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THE '^
EXCYCLOPiEDlA BRITANNICA
DICTIONARY
OF
Arts, Sciences, and General Literature
THE R. 8. PEALE REPRINT
WITH NEW MAPS AND ORIGINAL AMERICAN ARTICLES BY EMINENT WRITERS
WITH AMERICAN REVISIONS AND ADDITIONS
By W. H. DkPUY, D.D.. LL.D., ..
Bringing Each Volume Up to Date
VOLUME XXIU
CHICAGO
R. S. PEALE COMPANY
AE-
708G86
I
Encyclopaedia Britannica.
Vol. xxm. — (t-ups).
TouJ number of Articles, 625.
PRINCIPAL CONTENTa
TABARI. M. J. Di OoEJZ, Professor of Arabic, Uni-
versity of Leydea.
TABLES. 'mathematical J W. L. Glaishee,
F. R. S. , President, Royal Astronomical Society-
TAHITI. Baron AnaTOLE vos Hucei.
TALES AUDEEW Lang, M.A.
TALMUD. S. M.;ScHiLLEE.S2iNESST, MA., Pb.D
TAMILS. Keinhold Rost. Ph.D., LLD., CLE.
TAPE-WORMS. W. E. Hovlk, M.A.
TASSO. J. A. Stmonds, M.A
TASTE. Prot M'K.E>a)EicK, M.D., LL.D., F.R.S
TAXATION. J. Shieu) Nicholson, M.A, D.Sc
Professor of Political Ecoaomy. UniTersity of Edin.
burgh.
TAXIDERMY. MoKTAOtTE Bsowjje, Aathor of "Prac
tical Taxidenny."
TEA. James Patok.
TEAK. Sir Dietbich Beandis, K.CI.E.,Ph.D, F R.3.
TECHKICAL EDUCATION. Sir Philip Macnits.
TELEGRAPH. Thomas Gkat, B.Sc, F.E.S.E
TELEMETER Major Aethcb W. White, K.A
TELEPHONE. Thomas Geay.
TELESCOPE David GiLU LL.D., Astronomer Royal
Cape of Good Horn.
TELL Kev. W. A. B. Coolidge, M.A.
TEMPLARS T A. AECB£.(.
TEMPLE W. Ro»eeT8ok Smith, LLD.
TEMEKS H'NRi Htmas% 0-.c5erTatenr. Biblio
th^oe Boy'.ie, B ussels.
TEliTtlS. JcliaX tiABSBAXL, Aatbor of "Annals of
Tenni& "
TEXTILES. J R. Middletos. M A. Slade Professor
of Fine Alt, Universitv of Cambridge.
THACKERAY WalterH Pou<)ck
THALES. Pi-of. G J Allmaw. LLD.. FRS, and
Henet Jacuon, LittD.
THEATRE. Prof. J H. Middleton and JaMES
Williams. B.C.L.
THEBES. A. W. Vereall, M.A, Lecturer in Clasaica,
Trinity CcUege, Cambridge.
THEISM. Rev. Roeebt Flint, D.D., LLD , Profeasor
of Divinit". University of Edinburgh.
THEODORA. James Brvce, D C.L.. MP
THEODORIC Thomas Hodgkin, DC L, LLD
THEOLOGY Prof R Flint
THEOSOPHY. Andrew Setb, M.A, Professor of
Logic University of St Andrews.
THERSIODYNAMICS. P G Tait, M.A., Professor
of Natural Philosophy I'aiversity of Ediiiburgb
THERMOMETER H EL Mill. D.Sc.
THESSALONIANS, EFIST.'.ESTOTHE E Scbueer.
Professor of N*'w Testaa.. .'.t Theology, Giessen.
THIBAUT JoBK Macdonell. M.A., Author of "Th«
Land Qaestion. "
TH1EF.3. Geoeoe Saintsbcrt, M A
THOF.EAU. William Sharp. Author of "Life ot
Shelley. "
THROAT DISEASES. .1 0 Affleck, M.D.
THUCYDIDE3. Prof. F- C. Jebb, lLd.
THUGS. Reisbold Rost, LLD . CLE;
THULE. Sir Edwaed H. BusBiRy, Bart.
TIBET. General J. T. Walker. R t. C.B.. F R S .
and Prof. A. TERaiEN TE Lacoitperie.
TIDES. G. H. Darwin, M.A., F.R.S., Pluraian rrr>.
fes3or of Aitronomv and Esperiraental Pliilosophy.
University of Camtridge.
TIME. J. L. E. Deetee. Ph.D., Astronomer. Armagh
Obaemtoiy.
TIMUR Major. Gen Sir Fredeeick J Coiosuiu
K.C.SI..C.B.
TIN Prof W. DiTTMAE-
TITHES. W. Robertson Smith. LLD . and Jamls
Williams, B.C.L.
TITIAN. W M. RossETTi.
TITLES OF HONOUR FuEDtfciCK Dbpmmond
TOBACCO James Patch and Prof W. DittmaR-
TONNAGE. W. Moore, Principal Surveyor of Too.
nage, Board of Trade. London.
TORPEDO. Commander Eowi.y J. P. Cu-Lwet.
H.M.S. "Polyphemus."
TORT. Feedebick Polloci. LLD., Corpus Professor
of Jurisprudence, University of Oiford.
TORTOISE. Albert GOktheb, M.D., Ph.D.. F.R.S
TORTVRE James Williams.
TOTEMISM. J. G. Fkazee.
TOUCH Prof. J. G. M'Kendbick.
TOCRNEUB. A. C. Swinbibne.
TRACTION. J. A. Ewing. B.Sc., F R.S., Profeeaor of
Engineering. University College, Dundee,
TRADE UNIONS. FreuDrummond.
TRAMWAY. Thomas Courington, C.E.
TRANSIT CIRCLE J L E. DaEniB, Ph.D.
TREASON. James Williams.
TREATIES Thomas E H.jlland. D.C.L., CbichoU
Professor of International Law and Diplomacy. Uni-
versity of Oxford.
TREMATODA. W. E. Hovle.
TRENT, COUNCIL OF- Rev. Dr. Uttledale-
TRI CYCLE. C. V. BoTs.
TRIGONOMETRY E W Hobson, M.A. , Lecturer in
Mathematics, Christ's College Cambridge.
TRIPOLI. A. M. Bkoadley, Author of "Tunis, Past
and Present"
TROAD. Prof. R C. Jebb.
TRUMPET VicTOB Mauillok, Conservatoire Roytl
de Musique Brussels.
TRUST James Williams.
TUNICATa W a Herdmab, D.Sc., Professor of
Natural Histor}*, Univt^rsity College, Liverpool
TUNNELLING Benjamin Baker, C.E.
TURKEY-
HisTORT AND LiTERATTRE. E J. W. GiBB, Author
of ■Ottoman Poems,' and C. A. FvEFE, MA,,
Author of " History of Modem Europe '
Oeography and Statistics. Prof. A. H. Keane
TURKS Prof M. Tb HuUTSMA, University of Leyden
TURNER. George Reid. R S.A.
TYPHUS, TYPHUID, AND RELAPSING FEVERS
J 0 A,PPLECK M D
TYPOGRAPHY— History. J. H. Hesseu, M.A.-
Practical John Southward.
TYROL A. J El-tlek. M,A-
I'LFILAS, Rev, C. Anderson ScoTT, B,A,
UMBRIA. William Ridcewat, M.A., Professor o*
Greek. Queeo's College. Cork.
UNITARIANISM Rev. J. F. SMITH.
UNITED STATES-
1. History asd Colonization.
11. Physical (iKOGRAPHY and Statistics.
III. I'll .III' .11. liKOGRAPHY AND STATISTICS.
I'.r. Rbv. Samuel Fallows. D.D., lata Professor
-' Phv,=ic!:. Lawrence University.
UNIVERSITIES. J. Bass Mullinceb, M.A., Libranaa.
St .lohn's College, Cambridge.
ENCYCLOPEDIA BKITANNICA.
T
Tig the t^rentieth symbol in our alphabet. It has varied
but little in form since the earliest days when it ap-
peared in Greece and Italy, though some of the Italic
alphabets exhibit variants : e.g., in Umbrian and Etruscan
inscriptions we find the horizontal stroke sometimes on one
side only, and slanting ; sometimes the form is nearly that
of our ordinary small t without the ornamental turn at
the bottom. In value it has been in all lang;uages a surd
or voiceless dental, corresponding to d, which is voiced.
But the term " dental " includes some varieties of position,
of which the most definite are — (1) where the point of the
tongue touches the teeth (true "dental "), as in French ; (2)
where the tongue touches the gum behind the teeth, and
not the teeth at all, as in English ; (3) where the point of
the tongue is slightly bent back against the palate, prodHC-
ing the sound much heard in south India (often called
" cerebral "). T when followed by t or y is liable to pass
into the ssound ; this happened in the local dialects of
Italy before the Christian era ; at Rome the transition was
later. This changed sound passed on into the Romance lan-
guages, t.g., in French " nation," pronounced " nasion,"
whence in England it was sounded first as " nasiun " ^and
now as ''nashun." Similarly in English t followed by u
undergoes a change of sound ; this is due, however, to the
old sound of tZ,- viz., long French u, or Old English y. This
long yy developed into the iu sound heard in "use,"
" cure," (fee. ; then the new i affected the preceding t, and
the result is Uh, as in " nature " (natshure) -, similarly d in
" verdure '" is sounded as dzh (verdzhure).
English employs the digraph th to denote two sounds,
differing as voiceless and voiced sounds — the initial sounds
of " thin " and " then " respectively. It would be a great
convenience it dh could be used for the voiced sound, so
that "then " should be written "dhen." /"But it would be
oven better if the single symbols could be employed to
denote these single sounds, as was to some e.xtent the case
Sn the earlier days of our language : in Anglo-Saxon we have
the twp symbols 6 aud (>. The first is only a d crossed ; the
second was a rune and wascalled " thorn." These, however,
were not consistently employed one for the voiceless and
one for the voiced sound ; also Oi, is actually found in the
oldest texts, and later on it occurs together with 8 and j>.
It is probable that the voiceless sound was origioally the
only one in Teatonic. It was eventually differentiated into
two sounds ; but, as is usually the case, writing remained
more archaic than speech. In modern English and Ice-
landic, and probably in the parent Teutonic also, initial
th is voiceless, except in English in a small number of
pronouns and particles in common use, as " thou," " this,"
"that," "then," "than," "though," "thus", and it is regu-
larly voiceless when final The nature of the two sounds
is this : the tongue is pressed against the back of the teeth
(sometimes, especially when used by foreigner? against the
bottom of the upper teeth) and either the breath. for th or
the voice lotdh is forced through the interstices of the teeth.
This pair of sounds is found in modern Greek, where Map-
pears as 0 and dh as £. In Spanish and in Danish under
certain circumstances the sound denoted by d is dh,
TAB.VRI and Eaely Arab Historians. Arabian
historians differ from all others in the unique form of
their compositions. Each event is related in the words of
eye-witnesses or contemporaries transmitted to the final
narrator through a chain of intermediate reporters (rdwls),
each of whom passed on the original report to his successor.
Often^ the same account is given in two or more slightly
divergent forms, which have come down through different
chains of reporters. Often, too, one event or one important
detail is told in several ways on the basis of several con-
temporary statements transmitted to the final narrator
through distinct lines of tradition. ■ The writer therefore
exercises no independent criticism except as regards the
choice of authorities ; for he rejects accounts of which the
first author or one of the intermediate links seems to him
unworthy of credit, and sometimes he states which of
several accounts seems to him the best. Modern judgment
does not always confirm this choice ; some authorities
much esteemed by Moslems are by European scholars
deemed untrustworthy, and vice versa. Fortunately the
various historians did not always give preference to the
same account of a transaction, and so one supplies what
another omits.
A second type of Arabian historiography is that in which
an author combines the different traditions about one
occurrence into one continuous narrative, but prefixes a
statement as to the lines of authorities used and states
which uf them he mainly follows. In this case the writer
T A B A R I
recurs to the first method, already described, only when
the different traditions are greatly at variance with one
another. In yet a third type of history the old method is
entirely forsaken and we have a continuous narrative only
occasionally interrupted by citation of the authority for
some particular point. But the principle still is that what
has been well said once need not be told again in other
words. The writer therefore keeps as close as ho can to
the letter of his sources, so that quite a late writer often
reproduces the very words of the first narrator.
■■ From very early times the Arabs had great delight in
'verses and tales, and the development of their language was
certainly much influenced by this fact. In ancient times
storytellers and singers found their subjects in the doughty
.ieeds of the tribe on its forays, in the merits of horse or
camel, in hunting adventures and love complaints, and some-
times in contests with foreign powers and in the impression
produced by the wealth and might of the sovereigns of
Persia and Constantinople. The appearance of the Prophet
with the great changes that ensued, the conquests that
.iiade the Arabs — till then a despised race — lords of half
*.he civilized world, supplied a vast store of new matter for
relations which men were never weary of hearing and
cccouuting. They wished to know everything about the
a[)o:itlo of God, whose influence on his own time was so
e'.iormoi'.o, who had accomplished all that seemed impossible
and h?.d inspired tlie Arabs with a courage and confidence
that made them stronger than the legions of Byzantium
and Ctesiphon. Every one who had known or seen him
was questioned and was eager to answer. Moreover,
ihe word of God in the Koran left many practical points
undecided, and therefore it was of the highest importance
to know 'jxactly how the ProJ;het had spoken and acted
in various circumstances. Where could this be better
•earntd than at Medina, v,'here he had lived so long and
\vh'f e the majority of his companions continued to live 1
So f.t Medina a school was gradually formed, where the
fjhief pa-, t of the traditions about Mohammed and his first
succe3'jo:'s took a form more or less fi.xed. Soon divers
facu'jr'j of Islam began to assist memory by making notes,
and Iheir disciples sought to take written jottings of what
they had hsard from them, which they could carry with
tliem when they returned to their homes. Thus by the
close of the 1st century many dictata were already in circu-
lation. For example, Hasan of Basra (d. 1 10 a.h.; 728 a.d.)
had a great mass of such notes, and he was accused of some-'
times passing off as oral tradition things he had really drawn
f<om books ; for oral tradition was still the one recognized
Authority, and it is related of more than one old scholar,
and even of Hasan of Basra himself, that ho directed his
books to be burned at his death. The books were mere
heljjs, and what they knew these scholars had handed on
by word of mouth. Long after this date, when all scholars
drew mainly from books, the old forms were still kept up.
Tabari, for example, when he cites a book expresses himself
/,s if he had heard what bo quotes from the master with
■vhom he read the passage or from whose copy he tran-
scribed it. Ho even ox])ressos himself in this wise : " "Omai
b. Shabba has related to mo in his book on the history of
3a.sra."
Historians before Tabari. J
'.' Naturally, then, no independent book of the 1st century
'rom the Flight has come down to us. But in the 2d cen-
'ury real books began to be composed. The materials
were supplied in the first place by oral tradition, in the
second by the dktata of older scholars, and finally by
various kinds of documents, such as treaties, letters, collec-
tions of poetry, and genealogical li.sts. Genealogical studies
had become necessary through 'Omar's system of assigning
«tate pensions to certain classes of persons according to
their kinship with the Prophet, of their deserts during his'
lifetime. This subject received much attention even in
the 1st century, but books about it were first written in
the 2d, the most famous being those of Ibn 'al-Kalbl (d.
146 A.H.), of his son Hishim' (d.204), and of Al-SharkI ibni
al-Kotdml. Genealogy, which often called for elucidations,;
led on to history. BelAdhorl's excellent Ansdb al-Ashrdf^
(Genealogies of the Nobles) is a history of the Arabs on a
genealogical plan. - ' . < '
The oldest extant history is the biography of the Prophet
by Ibn Ish4k(d. 150). This work is generally trustworthy.
Mohammed's life before he appeared as a prophet and the
story of his ancestors are indeed mixed with many fables
illustrated by spurious verses. But in Ibn IshAlf 's day these
fables were generally accepted as history — for many of thbm
had been first related by contemporaries of Mohammed —
and no one certainly thought it blameworthy to put pious
verses in the month of the Prophet's forefathers, though,;
according to the Fihrist (p. 92), Ibn IshAlf was duped by!
others with regard to the poems he quotes. - (
■ The Life of the Prophet by Ibn 'Okba (d. 141), based;
on the statements of two very trustworthy men, "Orwa ibn'
az-Zobair (d. 94) and Az-Zohrl (d.l24), seems to be quite
lost, Sprenger having vainly made every effort to find a
copy. It was still much read in Syria in the 14th century.j
But we fortunately possess the Book jif the Campaigns
of the Prophet by Al-W41>idl (d. 207) and the important
Book of Classes of his disciple Ibn Sa'd.^ Wilkidf had much
more copious materials than Ibn Ishdk, but gives way
much more to a popular and sometimes romancing style of
treatment. Nevertheless he sometimes helps us to re-
cognize in Ibn Ishdlj 's narrative modifications of the genuine
tradition made for a purpose, and the additional details he
supplies set various events before us in a clearer light.|
Apart from this his chief merits lie in his studies on the
subject of the traditional authorities, the results of which
are given by Ibn Sa'd, and in his chronology, which is often
excellent. A special study of the traditions about the
conquest of Syria made by De Goeje in 1864 led to the
conclusion that WAkidl's chronology is sound as regards the
main events, and that later historians have gono astray by
forsaking his guidance. This result has been confirmed
by certain contemporary notices found by Nbldeke in 1874
in a Syriac MS. of the British Museum. And that Ibn
IshAk agrees with WAljidi in certain main dates is import-
ant evidence for the trustworthiness of the former also.
For the chronology before the year 10 of the Flight Wdljidl
did his best, but here, the material being defective, many of
his conclusions are precarious. Yet, though we have good
ground for doubts, wo are seldom able to construct a better
chronology. W4kidl h.ad already a great library at his
disposal.- He is said to have had 600 chests of books,'
chiefly dictata written by or for himself, but in part real
books by Abu Miklinaf (d. 130), Ibn IsliAk (whom he uses
but docs not name), 'Aw.^na (d. 147), and other authors.
Abu Mikhnaf left a great number of monographs on the
chief events from the death of the Prophet to the caliphate
of Walfd II. These were much used by later writers, and
we have many extracts from them, but none of the works
themselves, except a sort of romance based on his account
of the death of Hosain, of which Wiistenfeld has given a
' Of Hisham b. al-Kalbi'a book there are copies in the British
Museum and in the Escorial. '
2 Ibn Ishak's original work seems to be still eitant In the KoprOlH
library .it Constantinople; the edition of it by Ibn Hisham has been
cditcil by Wustenfeld (Gottingen, 1858-eO) and translated into Gennno
by WeiUStuttgart, 1864). ]
' WAkiili has been edited from an imperfect M3. by Kremer (C«l-j
entta, 1856). A condensed translation by Wellhausen appeared in;
1882. The great book of Ibn Sa'd is unpublished, but there are (oms^
useful papers on it by Loth.
T A B A R I
trmslatioft. 'Witli regard to the history of IrAlf in par-
ticular be was deemed to have the best lights, and for this
subject Ji« is Tabari's chief source, jiiat as Madiinl, a
jounger contemporary of Wikidi, is followed by preference
in all that relates to Khor4san. Madiini's Uiitory of tM
Calipht is the best if not the oldest published before Jabari ;
but this book has quite disappeared and is known only by
the excerpts given by later writers, particularly BeUdhori
and TabarL From these we judge that he had great
n.rrative power with much clear and exact learning, and
must be placed high els a critical historian. His plan was
to record the various traditions about an event, choosing
them with critical skill ; sometimes, however, he fused
the several traditions into a continuous narrative. A just
estimate of the relative value of the historians can only
be reached by careful comparison in detail. This has been
essayed by Brunnow in his study on the Khirijites (Ley-
den, 1884), in which the narrative of Mobarrad in the
Kimil- is compared with the excerpts of Madiinl given by
Belidhorl and those of Abii Mikhnaf given by TabarL
The conclusion reached is that AbA Mikhnaf and Madiinl
are both well informed and impartial
Among the contemporaries of Wikidf and Madiinl were
Ibn Khidish (d. 223), the historian of the family Mohallab,
whose work was one of Mobarrad's sources for the History
of the Khdrijita ; Haitham ibn 'Adi (d. 207), whose works,
though n9w lost, are often cited ; and Saif ibn "Omar at-
Tamlml, whose book on the revolt of the tribes under Abii-
bekr and on 4he Mohammedan conquests was much used
ly Tabarl. Saif, however, seems to have been little es-
teemed ; Belidhorl very seldom cites him, and nothing can
be found in Arabic literature about his life and those of
his authorities. He is barely mentioned in the FihrUt,
the writer plainly having nothing to tell of him, and
blundering in the one thing he does say by representing
hi disciple Sfe'&ib as hi» master. HAjji Khalifa knows
nothing but his name. Hia narratives are detailed and
often tinged with romance, and he is certainly much in-
ferior to Wilfidl in' accuracy. Besides these are to be
mentioned Ab\i "Obaida. (d. 209), who was celebrated as a
philologist and wrote several historical monographs that
are often cited, and Azraki, whose excellent History of
Mecca was published after his death by his grandson
(d 244). With these writers we rass into the 3d century
of Islam. But we have etill an important point to notice
in the 2d century ; for in it learned Persians began to
take part in the creation of Arabic historical literature.
Ibn Mokaffa' translated the great Book of Persian Kings,
and others followed his example. Tabarl and his contem-
poraries, senior and junior, such as Ibn Kotaiba, Ya'k'ibl,
Dlnawari, preserve ^o us a good part of the information
about Persian history made known through such transla-
tions.' But even more important than the knowledge
conveyed by these works was their influence on literary
style and compodtiou. Half a century later began versions
•from the Greek either direct or through the Syriac. The
pieces translated were niostly philosophical ; but the Arabs
also learned eomething, however superfidaliy, of ancient
history.
The 3d century was far more productive than the 2d.
Abii 'Obaida was presently succeeded by Ibn al-A'ribl
(d. 231), who in like manner was chiefly famous as a
philologist, and who wrote about ancient poems and battles.
Much that he wrote is quoted in Tabrlzfs commentary on
the ffamdsa, which is still richer in extracts from the
historical elucidations of early poems given by Ar-Riy4«hl
(d. 257). Of special fame as a genealogist was Ibn Hablb
'' For detaila Me the iDlrodaction to KCldeke's excellent trantlation
of TftbarTi HisCary qf the Persians and Arade in the AJaeanian Period,
Lejdaa, 1S79.
(d. 245), of whom we have a booklet on Arabian trilfil
names published by Wiistenfeld (1850). Azraki again wM
followed by Fikihl, who wrote a History of Mecca in 272,'
and 'Omar b. Shabba (d. 262), who composed <an excellent
history of Basra, known to us only by excerpts. Of the
works of Zobair b. Bakkir (d. 256), one of Tabari's teachers,
a learned historian and genealogist much consulted by later
writers, there is a fragment in the Kopriilii library at Con-
staintinople, and another in Gottingen, part of which has
been maide known by Wiistenfeld (Die Familie AlZobair,
Gottingen, 1878). Ya'kiibl or Ibn Widih wrote a short
general history of much value, published by Houtsma (Ley-
den, 1853). About India he knows more than his prede-
cessors and more than his successors down to Bininl. Ibn
Khordidbeh's historical works are lost Ibn 'Abdalhakam
(d. 257) WTotaof the conquest of Egypt and the West.
Extracts from this book are given by De Slane in h'uHistoire
des Berberes, and others by Karle and Jones, from which
we gather that it was a medley of true tradition and romance,
and must be reckoned, with the book of his slightly senior
contemporary, the Spaniard Ibn Hablb, to the class of
historical romances (see bdow, p. 5). A high place must
be assigned to the historian Ibn Kotaiba (d. 276), who,
as Eosen has well shown, wrote a series of books with a
view to raising the scholarship of the large class of kdtib$
or official scribes. To this series belong his very useful
Handbook of History (ed. Wiistenfeld, Gottingen, 1850)
and his 'Oyun al-Akhbdr, though the latter book according
to the arrangement falls rather under the class of litters
humaniores. Much more eminent is BeUdhori (d. 279),
whose book on the Arab conquest (ed. De Goeje, Leyden,
1865-66) merits the special praise given to it by Mas'iidt
Of his great Ansib al-Ashrdf a. large part exists at Paris
in the valuable collection of M. Schefer and another part
was published by Ahlwardt in 1884. A con,temporary, Ibn
abl Tihir Taifilr (d. 280), wrote on the "Abbisid caliphs
and was drawn on by Tabart The sixth.part of his work
is in the British Museum. Of the universal history of
Dlnawari (d. 282), entitled The Long Narratives, en edition
by Girgas is now (1887) in the press.
Taiari.
All thesS histqfies are more or less thrown into the shade
by the great work of Tabarl, whose fame has never faded
from his own day to ours, and who well deserves to have
this article on early Arabic histories placed under his name.
Abii Ja'far Mohammed b Jarlr at-Tabari (so his fuU name
runs) is described as a tall lean figure, with large eyea,
brown complexion, and hair which remained black till hia
death. His learning was astounding and few could speak so
well. Bom 224 a.h. (838-9 a.d.) at Amol in TabaristAn, he
came to Baghdad as a young man and heard there the most,
famous teachers of the age. He travelled through Syria
and Egypt (where he was ip 263), and finally settled
down in Baghdad, where he remained till his death in 310
(922 A-D.), always active and surrounded by p^ipils. Ha
is said to have written forty pages daily for forty years.
This no doubt is an exaggeration, but certainly he must
have been a man of most persistent industry. His two
chief works are a great Commentary on the Koran and his
Annals. There is an anecdote to the effect that each
originally filled 30,000 leaves, but that his pupils found
them too extensive to be written to his dictation, and that
he then resolved to condense them to a tenth of their
original size, exclaiming, " God help us ! Ambition is
extinct." One cannot say how far this story is true, but
it is probable enough that his materials, at least for the
Annals, were many times greater than the book itself.
>-Pabli<taed in ezcerptb; Wiutealeld iiloiig with Azraki, Leliele,
1857-69.
T A B A R I
WTiere the same topic comes up in the Annals and in the
Commeniary we often find different traditions quoted, or
tho same tradition denved through different channels, and
this shows the copious variety of his sources. Various
parts of the AnnaU give the impression of being condensed.
The C'lmmminry was published before the Anruils, and is
better composed. It is the head corner-stone of Koran
exegesis, as the Annuls are of historiography It came into
general use mainly through the abridgment of Baghawl in
the beginuiug of the tilh century of the Fhgbt, being itself
too large to be much read. The great book exists complete
in the viceregal library at Cairo, and ought to be pub-
lished at once '
Ihi A nnals are a general history from the creation to 302
A.H., and are in the course of publication at Leyden. They
will fill some 7000 to "500 pages, one and a half printed
pages corresponding roughly to one leaf of Tabarl's original
MS Taoarl added a supplement about his authorities, an
abridgment of which is to follow the Leyden edition. It
contains biographical notices of traditionalists, coutempo-
raries of Mohammed, and their successors to the second half
of the '2d century ^ Other works by Tabarl will bespoken
of in detail In the preface to the Leyden edition
The success of the Annals and Commeniary was due
above all to the author's personality The respect paid to
him by bis contemporaries appears in various anecdotes
preserved in his biography His pupils had an unbounded
admiration for his extraordinary knowledge, and wh.it ho
said seemed to them the best that could be said In tnitli,
both his great works were the best of their kind, especially
the Commeniary, which, in the judgment of all impartial
critics, has not been equalled, before or since, io complete-
nes.1, learning, and independent judgment. A conterapiv
rary says that " it would be worth a journey to China to
procure the book " So general was this view that the
opinion of Tabari was quoted as a legal authority
The inferiority of the Annals .as a literary com|)Osition
may be due partly to the author's years, partly to the in-
equality of his sources, sonietim>iS sujwrabiindant, some-
times defective, partly perhaps to the somewhat hasty
condensation of his original draft. Nevertheless the value
of the book is very great the author's selection of tradi
tions IS usually happy, and the episodes of most import-
ance are treated with most fulness of detail, so that it
deserves the high reputation it has enjoyed from the first.
This reputation rose steadily ; there were twenty copies
(one of them written by Tabarl's own hand) in the library
of the FAtimite caliph 'Aziz (latter half of the 4th cen-
tury), whereas, when Saladin became lord of Egypt, the
princely library contained r200 copies (Makrlzl, i. 408
tq ). Only princes and rich men could own a booU
which in the time of 'Aziz cost one hundred dinars. We
knsiw that it had a place in most great libraries in other
countries, for we find that it was used in all lands. Thus
the fact ^hat no complete copy can now be found any
where, and that the Leyden edition rests on odd volumes
lying in various places, gives a striking image of what the
East has suffered from barbarism
The Annals soon came to be dealt with in various ways.
They were published in shorter form with the omission of
the names of authorities and of most of the poems cited ,
6ome passages quoted by later writers are not found even
in the Leyden edition. On the other hand, some interpola-
tions took place, one in the author's lifetime and perhaps
by his own hand Then many supplements were written,
e._(7., by Fergh.'inl (not extant) and by HamadhAnl (|;artly
preserved in I'aris) 'Arib of Cordova made an abridg-
' Srif Ihr excclWnl .irtule by l.olh in Z MilU.. xxxv 588 si/
' Tilt Mb riiuuiiiiiig tlii.-i obridgiiictit ij. tlescnheii by Lotb in
y..b.M.<J-, Axxu. 081 itf. 11 13 LOW lu lilt: Unlisli Mustuui.
ment, adding the history of the 'West and continvjing the
story to about 365^ -Ibn Mashkawaih wrote a history
from the creation to 3fi9 a.h., with the purpose of draw-
ing the les.sons of the story, following Tabari closely, as
far as his book is known, and seldom recurring to other
sources belore the reign of Moktadir ; what follows is his
own composition, and shows him to be a writer of talent*
In 3.52 an abridgment of the Annals was translated into
Persian by Bal'aml, who, however, interwove many fables.''
Ibn al-AthIr (d G30) abridged the whole work, usually
with judgment, but sometimes too hastily Though be
sometimes glided lightly over difficulties, his work is of
service in fixing the text of Tabari. He also furnished a
continuation to the year C20. Later writers took Tabari
as their main authority, but fortunately sometimes con-
sulted other sources, and so add to otir knowledge, —
es|)eciaily Ibn al-Jauzl (d. 597), who adds many important
details. These later historians had valuable help from
the biographies of famous men and special histories of
countries and cities, dynasties and princes, on which much
labour was spent from the 4tb century onwards,
EislOTvina after Tabari.
Tho chief historians after Tabari may be briefly mentioned In
chronnldgical order. Kail (d. 326) wrote a Hwlory of Spam; Euty-
cluiis (il 328) wrote Annals (published by Pocock. Oxford, 1656),
which are very important because he giv&s tho Christian tradition \
Ibn 'AH Rabbihi (d. 328) has very valuable historical passages in
bis fam^-us roiscellaj^ called /tl-'Ikd at-Fartd (3 vols., Cairo, 1293
AH); bull (d 335) wrote od the 'Abb^sid caliphs, tboir viziers and
court |->ets. Ma5'udi(see MAs'tiov) comiwsed various historical and
peograiihical works (d 345). Of Taljari 8 coDlemporary Hamza Ls-
jxihani uehave the .<4n7uiZ* ( published Ijy Gottwaldt, St. Petersburg,
1844), Abu.l-Faraj aJ Isjialiini (d. 356j in Ms Booi o/Sonjs (fiWJ
nlAg>i<tTii, 20 vols., Cairo, 1285) gave the lives of poets whose songs
Mere >iing , Ibu al-Kutiya (d 367) wrote a History of Spain ; Ibn
Zulak (d 1)87) a JJislory of Egypt , 'Oibi wititiithe History of Mah-
mild of ifhazna (»L 421), ai whose court he lived (printed on the
margiu of the Egy]'tian editioo of Ibn al-Athir). "Thalabi (d. 427)
wroie a well knonn History of the Old Prophets . Ahu No'aim al-
Isfiab^ni (d. 430) wrote a History of Ispahan. chieHy of tho scholars
of that city; Tha alibi (il 429 or 430) wrote, inter alia, a well-
koown History of the Poets of his Time, now (1887) iii course of
publication at Oamascus. Bernui (d. 440) takes n high place
among historians by his Chronology of Ayicifiit Nations{eA Sachau,
Leipsic, 1878 , Eng trans , London, 18/9) and his contributious to
the history of India anil Khwanzm; Koda'i (d. 451) uTote a Dc-
st-ription of Egypt and also vanous historical pieces, of winch somo
are extant; Ibn Said of Cordova (d. 462) wrote a Vieio of the
Htst&ry of the l^arwus Nalums Baghdad anil its learned men
found an excellent lustonan in Al Kliatib al Baghdad i (cL 463),
and Spam in Ibn Hayan (d 469) and half a cenlury later in Ibn
Khakan (d 529) and Ibn Bassam (d 542). Samani (d. .562) wToto
an excellent iKwk on genealogies , IbnAsakir(d n\)a History of
Damascus and hrr Scholars, which is of great value, and exists in
whole or in part in several libraries. The Btoqraphicnl Dictionary
of the Sjianiard Ihn Piusrual (d 578) and that of Dabbi, a some-
what junior conteTTiporary, arc edited in Coilcra s Btbliotheca Arao.
Ilisp. (1883- 1SS5); Saladin found his historian in the famous
Iniad addin Id 597). Ibn al J.iuzi. who died in the same year,
has been already mi-iitiohed. Abdalwahiils History of the Almu-
hades, wTiIun in 621. was publisheil by Do^y I2d ed , 1881), The
geographer Vakiit (d 626) wrote also some historical works, now
In^t, Atidallatif (d 629) i.i kiiipwn by his wniings alwut Egypt
(trans. L>e S,ii y, 1>'10); Ibn ahAthir (d 630) w-iute. m addition tc
the Chronicle already mentioned a Bionmphenl Dictionary of C'oi-
lempnrnnei uf the Prophet. Kifti (d fJ-16) is es|«-cially knowni bl|
his History of Aiahie Ph,lot«n,sls Sil't ibn al-.lau2i id 654),graiKr
.son of the lim al-Jaun already nieniionod, wrote a gieot i^hrwncle,
of winch niurli the larger part still exists. Coileia has edited
iMa.lnd. l>(.'-6) Ibn al AbUirs (d 658) Unupaphu-at Lexicon, a]-
leady known by Dozys exierpts from u. Ibn al-'Adiin (d. 660) is
' Of this work the Gotha library has a jioilion containing 290-320
AH .of which the |>art about Ihr Wesi li.is b-wii pnnied by Dozy in the
Diiydn, and the rest is to be pulilislied al Leyih-u
■• A fragment (198-251 a B ) is i.nnted in De Oocje, Fraym. Hist.
Ac., vol il.. Leyden, 1871. Scht-ler possesses an excellent MS. uf
the years 219-315 ; Oxiord has another fragment, 345-360 a. a.; the
second part is in the Esconnl
» The first part was lendvred into French by Dnbeux in 18S6. W»
have now an i-xtelieut Krencb translation by Zotenberg, 1874.
T A B— T A B
fcmed for bis Siatory of Aleppo, and Abii Shims (d. 6€5) wrote a
^til-known ffisCory of Saiadin and Xureddin, taking a great deal
^m Imad addin. A. Muller has. recently published (1S8£) Ibn
ybi Osajbia's (d. 663) History of nysiciana. The Hiatory of Ibn
lI-'Amid (d. 675), better knovn as Elmaci.s (q.v.), was printed by
Erpenius in 1623. Ibn Sa'id al-Ua^bribi (d. 673 or 635) is famous
fw his histories, but still more for his geographical writings. The
loted theologian Nawawi (;.r. ; d. €76)- wrote a Biographical
Dictionary of tht Worthies of the First Ages of Islam. Pre-emiuent
t3 a biographer is Ibn Khallikan (d. 631), whose much-used work
»»s partly edited bv D« Slana and completely by Wustenfeld {1 S35-
iO\ and tnnsliWftf into English by the former scholar (1 vols.,
1843-71).
Abu '1-Faraj, better tnown as Bar-Hebneus (d. 6S5), wrote
besides his Sj-riac Chronicle an Arabic History of Dynasties (ed.
Tocock, Oxford, 1 663). Ibn "Adhari's History of Africa and Spain has
keen published bv Dozy (2 vols., Leyden, 1848-51), and the.Arart.is
«f Ihn abi Zar' \>y Tomberg (1843)- One of the best known of
Arab writers is Abulfeda (d. 732), whose AnnaUs Muslemics wcro
Tablished with a Latin version by Reiske (Copenhagen, 5 vols. 4to,
789-94). The History of the Time before Mohammed has been
Siblished by Fleischer (1S31). Not less famous is the great
nri/clopBdia of his contemporary Nowairi (d. 732), bat only some
extracts are as yet in TF^i- Ibn Sayyid an-Nds (d. 734) wrote a
foil biography of the Prophet ; Mizzi (d. 742) an extensive work
on the men from whom traditions have been derived. We still
pcasess, nearly complete, the great Chronicle of Dhahabi (d. 748),
A very learned biographer and historian. A complete edition of
the geographical and historical J/oso/ut al-Absdr of Ibn Fadlalldh
(d. 719) is much to be desired. It i» known at present by extracts
itren by Qnatremere and AmarL- Ibn al-Wanli (d. 719 or 750),
best known by bis Cosmography, wrote a ChronidcWVick has been
printed in Egypt. Safadt (d. 764) got a great name as a bio-
grapher. YaFi (d. 768) wrote a Chronicle of Islam and Lives of
SmAts. Sobki (d. 771) published Lives of the Theologians of Oie
Shiifi'iie School. -Of Ibn Kathir's Bislonj the greatest part is ex-
tant. For the history of Spain and the Maghrib the writings of
Ihn al-Khatib (d. 776) are of acknowledged value. Another history,
«f which we possess the greater part, is the large work of Ibn al-
Forat (d. 807). Far superior to all these, however, is the famous
Ibn Khaldiin (d- 808), who proves himself a great thinker in the
Prolegomena to his Universal History. Of the Prolegomena there
•rarln edition by QnatremJre (1858) and a French version by De
Slftne (1863). The latter scholar also published text and version
of the History of the Berbers, and there is a poor Egyptian edition
•of the whole work. Of the historical works of the famous lexico-
erar.her Finizabadi (d. 817) only a Life of the Prophet remains.
MaiPEIZI (d. 845) is spoken of in a separate article ; Ibn Hnjar
(d. 852) is best known by his Biographical Dictionary of Conlcm-
poniries of the Prophet, now in course of publication in the Billio-
theea Indica. Ibn 'Arabshdh {i, 854) is known by his History of
Timiir (Leeuwarden, 1767). "Ainf (d. 855) wrote a General History,
*till exUnt. Abu '1-JIahasin (d. 874) wrote at length on the history
(«f Egypt ; the first two parts have been published by JnjnboU.
rriiigel nas published Ibn Kotlobogha's Biographies of the HanafUe
[Jurists. Ibn Shihna (d- 890) wrou a History of Aleppo. ' Of Sa-
khawi we possess a bibliographical work on the historians. The
poU-math Soyuti (d. 911) contributed a History of the Caliphs and
many biographical pieces. Samhudf s History of Medina is known
through the excerpts of Wiistenfeld (1861). Ibn lyas (d. 930)
wrote a History of Egypt, and Diyarbefcri (d. 966) a Life of Mo-
liammed. To these names must be added Mafkaki (q.v.) and
Hajji Khalifa, the famous Turkish bibliographer (d, 1068), who,
•besides his Bibliographical Lexicon and his well-known geography,
the Jihdn-numa, wrote histories, mostly in Turkish. He made
tise of European sources, and with him Arabic historiography may
■be said to cease, though he had some unimportant successors.
A word must be said of the historical romances, the beginning
of which go back to the first centuries of Islam. The interest in
All that concerned Mohammed and in the allusions of the Koran
■to old prophets and races led many professional narrators to choose
these subjects in place of the doughty deeds of the Bedouins,
The increasing veneration pejd to the Prophet and love for the
marvellous soon rave rise to feblea abonf his childhood, his visit
to heaven, it, which have found their way even into sober his-
tories, iust as many Jewi'ih legends told by the converted Jew
jKa'b al-Ahbar and by Wahb ibn Monabbih,.and many lables
•bout the old princes of Yemen told by 'Abid, are taken as genuine
listory (see, however, Mas'ddi, iv. 88 sg.). A fresh field for
jomantic legend ivas found in the history of the victories of Islam,
^e exploits of the first heroes of the faitli, the fortunes of 'Ali and
iis honse. Even under the first Omavyads there were ia the
aio«<)ue8 of most great cities preachers who edified the people by
Atones about Islam and its victories, and there is ample evidence
Ihat these men did not stick to actual fact ShoT^a said of them
*|^hey get from us a handbreadth of tradition and make it an ell."
Jihen. too, history was often expressly forged for party endk
The people swallowed all this, and so a romantic tradition sprang
up side by sid»with the historical, and had a literature of its own,
the beginnings of which must be placed as early as the second
century of the Flight The oUest samples still extant are' tlio
fables about the conquest of Spain ascribed to Ibn Habib (d. 238)^:
and those about the conquest of Ecj-pt and tlie' West by Ibn
'Abdalhakam (d. 257). lu these trutn and falsehood arc mingled,'
as Dozy has shown in his Recherchcs.' But most of the extant
literature of this kirid is, in its present form, much more recent:
e.g.. the Story xf the Death of Hosain by the Pseudo-Abu Jlikhnar
(translated by Wustenfeld) ; the Conquest of Syria by Abii IsmA'i'.
al-Bai;ri (edited by Nassau Lees, CalcutU. 1854, and discussed bv
De Coeje, 1864); the Pseildo-Wakidi (sco Hamaker, De Erpng-
natione Memphidi^ et Alexandria, Leyden, 1835) ; the Pscudo-Ibii
Kotaiba (see DczjiUieckerches) ; the book a.scribed to A'^am Kufi,
tc Further inquiry into the origin of these works is called for, but
some of them were plainly directed to stir up fresh zeal against the
Christians. In the 6th century some of these books had gained sc
much authority that they were used as sources, and tlms many un-
truths crept into accepted history. (M. J. DE G.) ;
TABERNACLE, the portable 'sanctuary of Israel in the
wilderness wanderings. Critical analysis of the Penta-
teuch (g.v.) teaches U3 to draw a sharp line between the
old notices of the tabernacle contained in the pre-Deutero-
nomic history book (JE) and the account given by the
post-esilic priestly narrator. The latter throws back intc
the time of Moics the whole scheme of worship and ritual
of which the second temple was the centre, and, as this
scheme necessarily implies the existencfe of an elaborate
sanctuary on the pattern of the temple, he describes a
tabernacle of extraordinary splendour pitched in the middla
of the camp, with an outer and inner cliarfiber and a court-
yard, and all the apparatus of sacrificial and atoning ritual,
just as in the temple, only constructed '6.fnx)ards, posts,
and curtains so that it could be taken down and moved
from place to place. The whole description is ideal, as
appears not only from the details but from the fact that
the old history knows nothing of such a structure? The
Chronicler indeed, who had before him the Pentateuch ir.
its present shape, assumes that after the Israelites entered
Canaan the tabernacle continued to be the one legitimatt
place of sacrifice until it was superseded by Solomon'i
temple, and represents it as standing at Gibeon in the
days of David and his son (1 Chron. xxi. 29 sq. ; 2 Chron.
i. 3). But the book of Kings knows Gibeon "^nly as "th&
greatest high place" (1 Kings iii. 4).*
Again, the tabernacle of the Priestly Code is pre-emi-
nently the sanctuary of the ark, bearing the name miMan
haedatk, " the tabernacle of the testimony," i.e., the habit--
ation in which lay "the ark of the testimony" or chest
containing the stones on which the decalogue was inscribed.
But between Joshua's days and the building of the temple
the ark migrated from one tent or habitation to another
(2 Sam. vii. 6 ; 1 Chron. xvii. 5), and at Shiloh it was
housed not in a tent but in a temple (1 Sam. iii. 3, 15).
And, while in the Priestly Code the tabernacle is the only
legitimate sanctuary and its priests are the only legitimate
priests, the whole history shows that no such restriction
was even thought of till after the time of the prophet
Isaiah.
With all this it agrees that the oldest parts of the Penta?
teuch speak indeed of a tabernacle, but one of a quito
different kind. The tabernacle of the Elohist (for of tho
two narratives — Elohistic and Jahvistic — which are com.:
bined in the so-called Jehovistic history only the former
seems to mention it) is a tent which Moses pitched outside
the camp (Exod. xxxiii. 7 sq.), and where Jehovah was
wont to reveal Himself to him in the pillar of cloud, which
descended for the purpose and stood at the door (Num. xi.
25; rii. 5; xiv. 10); it is therefore called okel moid, "the
' Two passages in the old history, which comprises the books of
Judges, Samuel, and Kings, speak of the tabernacle {OhH mO'id) ; but
external and internal evidence show them to be interpolated (1 SaSk
JL 22; 1 Kings nil. 4). - ""
6
TAB
TAB
tent o! trj-st." No description of it is given, nor ia its
origin spoken of, but something of the old narrative has
obviously been lost before Exod. xxxiii. 7, and here what
is lacking was probably explained. It appears, however,
that it was very different from the tabernacle described by
the priestly narrator. It was not in the centre of the
camp but stood some distance outside it,' and it was not
the seat of an elaborate organization of priests and guarded
by a host of Levites, but had a single minister and custo-
dian, viz., Joshua, who was not a Levite at all but Mosea' i
attendant (Exod. xxxiii. 11).
The existence of such a simple tent sanctuary presents
none of the difficulties that beset the priestly narrative.
Portable shrines were familiar to Semitic antiquity, and
tents as sanctuaries were known to the Israelites in much
later times at the high places and. in connexion with irre-
gular worships (Ezek. xvL 16, "thou didst take of thy
garments and madest for thyself sewn high places," i.e.,
shrines of curtains sewn together ; 2 Kings xxiiL 7, where
for " hangings for the grove" read " tents for the Ashera";
comp. Ho3. ix. 6 and Syriac prakk, Assyrian para/cku, a
small chapel or shrine, from the same root as Hebrew
pdi-oketh, the vail of the Holy of Holies). Such idolatrous
tabernacles were probably relics of the usages of the
nomadic Semites, and it is only natural that Israel in its
wanderings should have had the like. And it is note-
worthy that the portable chapels of the heathen Semites
were mainly used for divination (comp. Joum. of PhiloL,
xiii. 283 57), just as the Mosaic tabernacle is described by
the Elolu-.t not a-> a place of sacrifice (such as the tabernacle
of the Priestly Code is) but as a place of oracle.
The heathen shrines of this sort contained portable idols
or baetylia (see Selden, De Diis Syriis, i. 6); but what the
Jlosaic tabernacle contained is not expressly told. The
ordinary and seemingly the easiest assumption is that the
ark stood in it, and Deut. x. 1 sq., which must be drawn
from the lost part of the older narrative already alluded
to, certainly places the construction of the ark, to contain
the tables of stone, just before the time when the taber-
nacle is first mentioned by the Elohist. But neither in
Deuteronomy nor before it are the ark and the tabernacle
ever mentioned together, and of the two old narrators it
is not clear that the Jahvist ever mentions the tabernacle
or the Eloliibt the ark. The relation between the two
calls for further investigation, especially as the ark retains
its importance after the occupation of Canaan, while the
" tent of tryst " is not mentioned after the time of Moses,
who, according to the Elohist (Exod. xii), enjoyed at it
a. privilege of direct access to the Deity not accorded to
later prophets.
; TABERNACLES, Feast of. The original character
of this Hebrew feast, celebrated at the close of the agri-
cultural year as a thSnksgiving for the produce of the
seasoiis, but especially for the vintage and olive harvest,
has been exfilained in Pentatedch, vol. xviii. p. '511.
As such it is described in the old law of Exod. xxiii. 16,
under the name of " the feast of ingathering, at the end
of the year " (which, in the old Hebrew calendar, ran from
autumn to autumn), " when thou hast gathered in thy
labours out of the field " (comp. Exod. xxxiv. 22). The
same feast is spoken of in Deut. xvi. 13 as "the feast of
booths" (E.V. "tabernacles," whence the current name
of the feast), when " thou hast gathered in thy corn and
wine" from the corn-floor and the wine-press. No ex-
planation is here given of the name "feast of booths";
but after the exile it was understood that during this
feast the people assembled at Jerusalem were to live in
* In old Israel the sanctuary, after the people had settled flown
In cities, usually stood outside the town, and this was the case even
«rith the temple at Jerusalem when it was first built, ^
booths constructed of branches of trees (Lev. xxiii. 39 sq. \
Neh. viii. 14 sq.). The passage in Nehemiah, describing
the celebration of the feast in 444 B.C., serves as a com-
mentary on the post-exilic law in Leviticus, and from it
we learn that the use of booths on that occasion had no
foundation in traditional usage, but was based directly on
the law, which then for the first time became generally
known.* According to the law in question, the boothi
were to be a memorial of the wilderness wandering (Lev.
xxiii. 43), but of this there is no hint in Deuteronomy ;
and, while it is quite in the style of the later law to attach
a new historical reference to an old name like " feast of
booths," it is certain from Exodus that the feast had
originally agricultural and not historical significance. As
such it is exactly parallel to the vintage feasts of other
ancient nations, e.g., to the Athenian Oschophoria^ And,
in particular, it is noteworthy that in Judges ix. 27 we
find a vintage feast at Shechem among the Canaanites,
from whom the Israelites first learned the ways of agri-
cultural life, and from whom so much of the popular
religion was copied. To acts of worship nominally ad-
dressed to Jehovah, but really to the Canatanite Baalim,
Hosea expressly reckons rites celebrated "on all corn-
floors" (ix. 1), expressing thanks for divine gifts of com,
wine, and oil (iL 8 sq), and in their context theSe allusiona
leave no doubt that the prophet refers, in part af least,
to autumn feasts, in which Jehovah worship was mingled
with Canaanite elements (comp. Wellhausen, Prol. zur
Gesch. Jsr., cap. 3, ii.; Eng. trans., p. 92 sq ). These feasta
were local in character, but in northern Israel there was 4
great autumn feast at the royal sanctuary at Bethel (1
Kings xii. 33), as even in the days of Solomon there was
such a feast at Jerusalem (1 Kings viii. 2). Li the nature
of things the local feasts were the older, and it was the
fame of great shrines that gradually tended to dra'w
worshippers from a distance to temples like those of
Jerusalem and Bethel. Finally, the Deuteronomic law of
the one sanctuary and the course of events which made
that law the practical rule of the remnant of Israel put
an end to all local religious feasts, but at the same time
obscured the old significance of the festal cycle, and made
room for the historical interpretation of the celebrations,
now concentrated at the temple, which prevailed among
the later Jews (comp. P.assover and Pentecost). Ia
their later form all the yearly feasts have exact times and
rules. In Deuteronomy the autunin feast is not yet tied
to a day — it could hardly be so while it was still essentially
a harvest thanksgiving — but in the priestly legislation it
is fixed to commence on the fifteenth day of the seventh
month (Lev. xxiii. 34). In Deuteronomy the feast lasta
seven days ; Lev. x.\iii. 36 adds an eighth, and this day
ultimately became the most important (John vii. 37).
If we accept the conclusion th.at the autumn festival was origin-
ally a vintage feast celobrated in local sanctuaries, tlie name
"feast of booths" admits of a natural explanation The Canaan-
ite feast at Shechem and the Hebrew feast at Shiloh (Judges \%\.'
21) were partly celebrated abroad in the vineyards, and Hosea also
knows such feasts on the open corn floors. That it was usual to
go forth and live in booths dunng the vintage may be concluded
from Isik i. 8 ; the same practice still prevails at Hebron {Robinson,
Bibl. Res, ii 81) If it was these booths erected among the vine-
yards that originally gave their name to the feast, we can under-
stand how the bottk of Nehemiah recognizes the erection of boolha
within the city of Jerusalem as an innovation. No doubt at all
feasts where there 'was a great concourse of visitors many would bo
compelled to live in tents , this seems to have been the case evea
in old Israel {Hos. xii. 91 But that is quite a different thing
from the later observance, in which booths or bowers had to bo
made and used even by those who had houses of their own.
^ The expression that the Israelites had not done so since the dayi
of Joshua means that there was no recollection oi their having evef
done so ; for of coarse it is assumed that Joshua cArhed out evei^
direction of the law.
TABLES
■?
TABLES, Mathehatical. In any table the results
tabulated are termed the " tabular results " or " respond-
ents," and the corresponding numbers by which the table is
entered are termed the "arguments." A table is said to be
of single or double entry according as thefe are one or two
arguments. For exr jple, a table of logarithms is a table
of single entry, the .umbers being the arguments and the
logariflims the tabular results ; an ordinary multiplication
table is a table of double entry, giving xy as tabular result
for X and y as arguments. The intrinsic value of a table
v«]iM of may be estimated by the actual amount of time saved by
toblM,^ consulting it ; for example, a table of square roots to ten
decimals is more valuable than a table of squares, as the
extraction of the root would occupy more time than the
multiplication of the number by itself. The value of a
(table does not depend upon the difficulty of calculating it;
for, once made, it is made for ever, and as far as the user
is concerned the amount of labour devoted to its original
construction is immaterial. In some tables the labour re-
quired in the construction is the same as if all the tabular
results had been calculated separately; but in the majority
of instances a table can be formed by expeditious methods
which are inapplicable to the calculation of an individual
result. This is the case with tables of a coTitinuous quan-
tity, which may frequently be constructed by differences.
The most striking instance perhaps is afforded by a factor
table or a table of primes ; for, if it is required to deter-
mine whether a given number is prime or not, the only
available method (in the absence of tables) is to divide it
by every prime less than its square root or until one is
found that divides it without remainder. But to form a
table of prime numbers the process is theoretically simple
and rapid, for we have only to range all tie numbers in a
line and strike out every second beginning from two, ever)'
third beginning from three, and so on, those that remain
being primes. Even when the tabular results are con-
structed separately, the method of differences or other
methods connecting together different tabular results may
afford valuable verifications. By having recourse to tables
not only does the computer save time and labour, but he
also obtains the certainty of accuracy ; in fact, even when
the tabular results are so easy to calculate that no time or
mental effort would be saved by the use of a table, the
certainty of accuracy might make it advantageous to
employ it.
The invention of logarithms in 1614, followed immedi-
ately by the calculation of logarithm!' tables, revolutionized
all the methods of calculation ; and the original work per-
formed by Briggs and Vlacq in calculating logarithms 260
years ago has in effect formed a portion of every arith-
metical operation that has since been carried out by means
of logarithms. And not only has an incredible amount of
labour been saved ' but a vast number of calculations and
researches have been rendered practicable which otherwise
would have tieen quite beyond human reach. The
mathematical process that undsrlies the tabular method of
obtaining a result may be indirect and complicated ; for
example, the logarithmic method would be quite unsuitable
for the multiplication of two numbers if the logarithms
had to be calculated specially for the purpose and were
not already tabulated for use. The arrangement of a
table on the page and all typographical details — such as
the shape of the figures, their spacing, the thickness and
placing of the ndes, the colour and quality of the paper,
<tc. — are of the highest importance, as the computer has
' R«ferrmg to factor tables, Lambert wrote {SuppUmenla Tatmlarum,
1798, p. xr.): "Universalis finis talium tabojarum est ut semel pro
8emp« compotetur quod saepius de novo compnteodum foret, et ut
pro Omni caau coraputetur quod in futnrum pro quovis caaa compu-
t&tum desiderabitur." This applies to all tables.
to spend hours with his eyes fixed upon the book ; and
the efforts of eye and brain required in finding the right
numbers amidst a mass of figures on a page and in taking
them out accurately, when the computer is tirecl as well as
when he is fresh, are far more trying than the mechanical
action of simple reading. Moreover, the trouble required
by the computer to learn the use of a table need scarcely
be considered ; the important matter is the time and
labour saved by it after he has learned its use. Tables
are, as a rule, intended for professional and not amateur
use ; and it is of little moment whether the user who is
unfamiliar with a table has to spend ten seconds or a
minute in obtaining an isolated result, provided it can be
used rapidly and without risk of error by a skilled computer.
In the following descriptions of tables an attempt is
made to give an account of all those that a computer of
the present day is likely to use in carrying out arithmet-
ical calculations. Tables of merely bibliographical or
historical interest are not regarded as coming within the
scope of this article, although for special reasons such
tables are briefly noticed in some cases. Tables relating
to ordinary arithmetical operations are first described, and
afterwards an account is given of the most useful and
least technical of the more strictly mathematical tables,
such as factorials, gamma functions, integrals, Bessel's
functions, kc. It is difficult to classify the tables de-
scribed in a perfectly satisfactory manner without prolixity,
as many collections contain valuable sets belonging to a
variety of classes. Nearly all modern tables are stereo-
typed, and in giving their titles the accompanying date is
either that of the original stereotyping or of the tirage
in question. In tables that have passed through many
editions the date given is that of the edition described. A
much fuller account of general tables published previously
to 1872, by the present writer, is contained in the British
Association Report for 1873, pp. 1-175; and to this the
reader is referred.
Tables of Divisors (Factor Tables) and Tables of Primes. — Tlie DivlBon
existing factor tables extend to 9,000,000. In ISU Chemac rub- and
lished at Deventc- his Cribrujn ArUhmctictivi, which gives all the primes
prime divisors of every rumber not divisible by 2. 3, or 5 up to
1,020,000. In 1814-17 Burckhardt published at Paris his Table)
des Vivisciirs, giving tne least divisor of every number nut divisible
by 2, 3, or 5 up to ',036,000. The second milhon was issued in
1814, the third in 1816, and t'lc first in 1817. The corresponding
tables for the seventh (in 1862), ciL'hth (1863), and ninth (1365) mil-
lions were calculated by Dase and issued at Hamburg. Dase «lied
suddenly during the progress of the work, and it was completed by
Rbsenberg. Case's cnlculation was performed at the instigation
of Gauss, and he began at 6,000,000 because the Berlin Academy
was in possession of a manuscript presented by Crelle extending
Burckhardt's tables from 3,000,000 to 6,000,000. This manuscript,
not having been published by 1877, was found on examination
to be so inaccurate that the publication was not desirable, and
accordingly the three intervening millions were calculated and
published by James Glaisher, the Factor Table for the Fourth
Million appearing at Loiidon in 1879, and those for the Bfth
and sixth millions in 1880 and 1883 respectively (all three mil-
lions stereotyped). The tenth million, though calculated by Dase
and Rosenberg, has not been published. It is in the possession of
the Berlin Academy, having been presented in 1878. The nine
qmrto vo]nmes (Tables des Diviscurs, Paris, 1814-17; Factor Tables,
London, 1879-83; Faetoren-Tafeln, Hamburg, 1862-65) thus form
one uniform table, giving the least divisor of every number not
divisible bv 2, 3, or 5, from unity to nine millions. The arrange-
ment of the results on the page, which is due to t^urckhanit,
is admirable for its clearness and condensation, the least factors
for 9000 numbers being given on each page. The tabular portion
of each million occupies 112 pages. The tirst three millions were
issued separately, and also bound in one volume, but the other
six millions are all separate. Burckhardt began with the second
million instead of the first, as Chernac's factor table for the first
million was already in existence. Burckhardt's first million does
not supersede Chernac's, as the latter gives all the prime divisors
of numbers not divisible by 2, 3, or 5 up to 1,020.000. It occupies
1020 pages, and Burckhardt found It very accurate ; he detected
only tnirty-eight errors, of which nine were due to the author, the
remaining twenty-nine having been caused by the slipping of type
e
TABLES
[itATHSMATiaU^
e«^i i„lo?h':xUnt and ace«5.cy any other.^the ^me^md
the largest of which only reaches 408,000. itus is lue '
stroyed. Vega (/o«"«. \'^" S" 102,000, foUowed by a
!of numbers not divisible by 2. f > ";» "P " ihe e^^ ier editions of
list of primes from 102,000 to 400 313 la the <^^^'=^;'" j^^bt
:?o='^%":wSo:Tmo^^
Ttbiifoi^^r&i^^^^^^
every number up 'o'l°>°°°.'"*°„r« {07 'This table is unique
spo/ding to «32 .ve liave given 2 -^J^^ Jil^'^T primes up' to
of 1840. • In Kecss qvc';P^'« (18 9).Jrti;'^i Jn decades. The
edition, 1864), wnicn P"'? i" ,, , -jjtinles of any one number
1000 X 1000, so arranged *a*ai'*M™r'J'i^on was published in
appear on t^e same page Th^ong^ledmoa^^^^ p^^ ^^^^^^
■1820 and ^°"'f ,t^ °[ '" "nvenient foUo volume of 450 pages
|.^^;mS^o?i:^^™4^g?£feKSS
,f^:^S«^"|fe. e^ th^ jrtruui Ve-i^n
/v.„„»» isqs-i wHch extends to 40,000. In Merpaut's woA th»
'^ ?.?=;, Voisin Tabl^ del hhdliplicalions, ou logantJma de$
as weU as the most extensive, is '^=■"°".^%'t"'~ VT", Jt ; , ■"
Society. I^ndon, from the stereotyped, ^t^o^l8«)^ ,
-,i„ the Di"ltipHca"d being five insteadof seven W 1 ^^^^y^^^
Tot/, "-/.^f '(f li^^t S'^v n ty a7oubIe arrange'ment The
number by a single Uigit is fe"'-" 7, . - Rretschncider s, as also
Icxtcnt of .the Ubie . he --;„„=^„*,^„f i^faiffcrenrLaund/^ table
■^ '■^' Jl^ont'lO pages anTCichneider's 99 pages. Among
.occupying ""'y /" r^^c ; a ^^^^^ £i„ma;«-,« to>i Ew^
■earlier works may bo noticca uru^o , products up to
Ms Hunderuauscnd Berlin, l<99^-ataDie^oj j„ ioo,000,
!ex 10,000. The -thorVf n r-%t^^^^^^^ ,„ ^,^3 'book
^b"L"L'."^c»dc"nLtlon'or d^ ble arnfngement, the pages are
/very large, each <:°"'^'"J.fSoTmay be performed by means of
&T . S^gfeTntTyt'lkKprydi^f^ by the formula ^
rThas..tKataWeofquarter.squaxeswe^^^^^^^^^
■two numbers by ^"""i^^.? ] '3\'i;^''''TlXgest table of quarter-
Ifrom tl'e q-;arter.squa,e of thorsum. 1^ g ^^^ ^^^^^^^^ ,^
iJoveSur'^ISVfl. f"r > netiM of thia book. ^
Societv London, from the stereoryiHju iiuic^ >..•-.-/. ■■"— °nn„
sqTarel^ cubes, sauare rooU, cube '?o^' ^J^ P'Z^' ^.Xr
Tho Urffest table of squares and cub»s is K.UI1K, .'«'«" «fr
Q^iaf^Li^ii*-^"''- (Uipsie,.1848), which gives bo'h as far
^100 000 Two early tables also give squares as far as 100.000,
numben Barlow, iMh^tical Toilc. (original editmn. I^nd°n.
?s?l? mVea the fii4t ten powei-s of the first hundred nutnbeis. The
1869^andYmi r^°«(.zl^ Logariamen (I844),give squares of,
^5i:^-i^9IS=pS^.
5;^.^lt^l A^M^srta^ni^^i^y^- Of ^ Cr.,
(1853),givespowereof2upto2 • x>e Natura rf PrscZaro Tri- -_
^ir;5ns"^e^nKnrbe^U7=rtolo.OOO.Jhetable^
""Z^r4^% r^'e.g™.cipro^^^^^^
(London, 1865). -l"^ ^"M ^;';°_g° logarithms, difference*
is arranged like a .*fbl« "^ '^^^° "nStg re?inrocal of a number
t\STulH°pl^'ofTJ;\^i^^^^^^^^^
are not common. , jr j„^, rrirj-tirms as Decimals.— TMea'^'oig''
TahWor the Exprcsstmof Vulgar FyMl-^a^JJCcx^ fractions
nators. The most extensive an4 ^abo^j^^^°'^i,*rC«.^^7y of
published are contained in H?ni-y-^<^^^^ ' ^ Tabular Scries of
\abUs of all Decimal QuotiefiT^^on^^l^^^^^
surpass 1000. The argurnents are not amnged atxorm^^
numerators or d«"<''";°=''°f^i\,.?^°\='3y ^frSse frTm -001 ( = r^|
that the tabuUr -^.^f t^^J^'^'Jv^ ''Sded the table to include all
to -09989909 =,Vt)- The ^"'■1'" ""^ffiT^?.' ,„ each less than
fractions whose ""■°="'»' ^"^jf^ri T^^VaW^irci^ (1823)
r.^^lfthe%STfK^?Sn^^^^^^^^^
,■„ .hich the fraction f3 can circulate. :, The Uble occupi. ^
pages, some of the periods being of cou^e veryj^.n(,^^^^^^^^^
S contains 1020 fibres JJ^"^^^^^
complete penods of the r«<='P'°""? " tv„y ^re near W unique of
Goodwin's tables are very scarce, but as t^ey^are ^ h^ ^^^ ,
their kind they deserve special notice A ^cond^ ^^ ^^^.^ ^^
Pird Centenary w^as issued »" l^, '."''I^Xk 60 and the denomk ■"
^Tabular Scries, the numerator jiotexceeaing ou _
llATSntATICAL.]
TABLES
9
- Mtor not exceeding 100. A poathumoiu t&blo of Otau'a, entitled
.•'Tafel zur Verwandlung gtjmeiner Bruche mit Nennern aus dem
cnteD Tauiend in Decinialoruche," occurs in voLiL pp. 412-434 of
hia OttamwulU iVerke (Gottmeen, 1863), and reaemblea Ooodwyn's
'Table of Cirda. Ou this subject aee a paper "On Circulating
Decimals, with special reference to Heni^ Ooodwyn's TabU qf
Circlet and Tatnttar Scries of Decimal Quotients," in Camb. Phil.
Proc, vol. ill. (1878), pp. 185-206, where is also given a table of the
periods of fractions correspomling to denominators prime to 10
from 1 to 1024 obtained by counting from Ooodwyn's table. See
> also the section on "CirvuLiting Decimals," p. 13 below.
Seiagesi- Sexagesimal ami Sexcentenary Tables. — Originolly all calculations
mal and were sexagesimal ; and the relics of the system still exist in the
Mxcen- division of the de^rree into 60 minutes and the minute into 60
tenary. seconds. To facilitate interpolation, therefore, in trigonometrical
^^ and other tables the following large sexagesimal tables were con-
structed. John Bernoulli, A SejxeTiUnary TabU (London, 1779),
gives at once the fourth term of any proportion of which the first
term is 600* and each of the other two is less than 600" ; the
table is of double entry, and may be more fully described as giving
the value of „-^ correct to tenths of a second, x and y each con-
taining a number of seconds less than 600. Michael Taylor, A Sexa-
gesimal Table (London, 1780), exhibits at sight the fourth term of
any proportion where the first term is 60 minutes, the second any
iiumoer of minutes less than 60, and the third any number of
'minuted and seconds under 60 minutes ; there is also another tablo
in which the third term is any absolute number under 1000. Not
much use seems to have been made of these tables, both of which
were published by the Commissioners of Longitude. Small tables
for the conversion of sexagesimals into centesimals and vice versa
.^are given in a few collections, such as Hiilase's edition of Vega.
Trlgono-'. TrigonoTneirical Tables {Xaiural}. — Peter Apian published inl533
;aK°.r1cal. a table of sines with the radius divided decimally. The first
■^j complete canon giving all the six ratios of the sides of a right-angled
triangle is due to Rhetic^is (1551), who also introduced the semi-
quadrantal arrangement. Kheticus's canon was calculated for
every ten minutes to 7 places, and Vieta extended it to every
minute (1579). In 1554 Reinhold published a table of tangents to
every minute. The first complete canon published in England was
by Blunedvilc (1594), although a table oi sines had appeared four
years earlier. Regiomontanus called his table of tangents (or rather
coi&ngeQls) tabula /(Ecunda on account of its great use; and till
(the introduction of the word "tangent" by Finck {GcumctritB
Rotundi Libri XIV., Basel, 1583) a table of tangents was called a
, tabula facuiida OT canon /(scundus. Besides " tangent," Finck also
introduced the word "secant," the table of secants having pre-
' viously been called tabula bencjica by Maurolycus (1558) and tabula
fcBCundissiTna by Vieta.
! By far the greatest computer of pure trigonometrical tables is
George Joachim Rheticus, whose worK Las never been superseded.
His celebrated ten-decimal canon, the Opus Palalinum, was pub-
;lished by Valentine Otho at Neustadt in 1596, and in 1613 hia
fifteen-decimal table of sines by Pitiscus »t Frankfort under tho
title Thesaurus Malhematicus. The Opus Palalinum contains a
complete ten-decimal trigonometrical canon for every ten seconds
'o( the quadrant, semiuu ad ran tally arranged, with differences for
all the tabular results ttroughout. Sines, cosines, and secants are
^iven on the left-hand pages in columns headed respectively
i.'.'PerpenJiculum," "Basis," "H)-potenusa," and on the right-hand
appear tangents, cosecants, and cotangents in columns headed
respectively " Perpendiculum," " Hypotenusa," "Basis." At his
dea:h Rheticus left the canon nearly complete, and the trigonometry
(was finished and the whole edited by Valentine Otho ; it was named
jin honour of the electorpalatine Frederick IV., who bore the ex-
fase of publication. The Thesaurus of 1613 gives natural sines
• every ten seconds throughout tho quadrant, to 15 places, semi-
adrantally arranged, with first, second, and third differences,
'natural sines are also given for every second from 0°to l°and from
89° to 90°, to 15 places, with first and second differences. The
rescue of the manuscript of this work by Pitiscus forms a striking
episode in the history of mathematical tables. The alterations and "
Wmtndations in the earlier part of the corrected edition of the Opus
Palalmum were made by Pitiscus, who had his suspicions that
Rheticus had himself calculated a ten-second table of sines to 15
decimal places ; but it could not be found. Eventually the lost
canon was discovered amongst the papers of Rheticus, which had
twssed Trom Otho to James Christmann on the death of the former.
Aratongst these Pitiscus found (1) the ten-second table of sines to
15 places, with first, second, and third differences (printed in the
ITtesaurus) ; (2) sines for every second of the first and last degrees of
,the quadrant, also to 15 places, with first and second differences ;
(3) the'comiaencement of^ a canon of tangents and seiants, to the
same numbei of decimal places, for every ten seconds, with first and
second diffcreoceg ; (4) a complete minute canon of sines, tangents,
and secants, also to 16 decimal places. These tables taken in
connexion with_the_OJ?i« £aUuinum give on idea of the enonnona
labours undertaken by Rheticus : his tables not only remain toi
this day tbe ultimate authorities but formed the data whereby Vlacq'
calculated his logarithmic canon. Pitiscus says that for twelvo'
years Rheticus constantly had computers at work. ^
A history of trigonometrical tables by lliitton was prefixed to
all the early editions of his Tables of Luganthins, and forms Tract'
xix. of his MalAejimtual Tracts, vol. i. iip. 278-300, 1812. A good
deal of bibliographical information abuut tho Opus Palalinum
and earlier tiigoiiouictrical tables is given in Lie Morgan's articlo
"Tables" in the English Vyclupxdta. The invention of lognruhmt
the year after the. publication of Kheticus's volume l>y Pitiscuy
changed all the methods of calculation ; and it is worthy of not^"
that Napier's original tablo of 1614 was a logarilhmic caiiun of sine*
and not a table of the logantlims of numbers. The Iug.iritli';iic;
canon at once superseded the natural canon; and sIiilc I'ltis.-us's
time DO really extensive table of pure trigonometrical fun^ tio'is hai
appeared. In recent years tho employment of the ariihrnometer
of Thomas de Colmar has revived the use of tables of natural
trigonometrical functions, it being found convenient for some
purposes to employ an arithmometer and a natural canon instead
of a logarithmic canon. Junge's Tiifcl der wirklichen Lanye der
Sinus und Cosinns (Leipsic, 1864) was published with tins obioct,!
It gives natural sines and cosines for every ten seconds of*^ the
quadrant to 6 places. F. M. Clouth, Tables pour le Calcul der
Coordonnics G(mioin4lriques (Mainz, n.d.), gives natural sines ano
cosines (to 6 places) and their first nine multiples (to 4 [ilaces) for,
every centesimal minute of tho quadrant. Talks of natural func-'
tions occur in many collections, the natural and logarithmic value*
being sometimes given ou opposite pages, sometimes side by sido
on the same page.
The following works contain tables of trigonometrical functioni
other than sines, cosines, and tangents. Pasquich, Tahulte Log-'.
arithmico-Trig(/nometricselXe\'^s,\<:, 1817), contains a table of sin'a:^i
cos-x, tan^s, cot-i from x= 1 to 45° at intervals of 1' to 5 places.',
Andrew, Astronomical and Kautical Tables (London, 1S05), con.'
tains a table of "squares of natuial semichords," i.e., of sin' Jj^
from 1 = 0° to 120° at intervals of 10" to 7 places. This table has'
recently been greatly extended by Major-Gcneral Hannyngton if-
his Haversincs, Natural and Logarithmic, used in computing Lunat
Distances for the Nautical Almanac (London, 1876). The nam,"
"haversine," now frequently used in works upon navigation, is a:
abbreviation of "half versed sine"; viz., the haversine of J is equ» '
to J(l-cosr), that is, to sin-Ja;. The table gives logaritlimi
haversincs lor every 15" from 0° to 180°, and natural haversincs fu
every 10" from 0° to 180°, to 7 places, except near the beginnin/
where tho logarithms arc given to only 5 or 6 pl.ices. The wor
itself oecupies 327 folio pages, and was suggested by Andrew's. ■
copy of which by chance fell into Hannyngton's hands. Hali. .
nyngton recomputed the whole of it by a partly mechanics'
metncKl, a combination of two arithmometere being emfiloycii
A table of haversincs is useful for the solution of siiheiical triangle
when two sides and the included angle ate given, and in manj
other problems in spherical trigonometry. Andrew's origins' '
tablo seems to have attracted veiy little notice. Hannyngton'' •
was printed, on the recommendation of the superintendent o -
the Nautical Almanac oflice, at the public cost. Before the car ' '
culation of Hannyngton's table Farley's Natural Versed Sin*
(London, 1856) was used in the Nautical Almanac office in coi;.
puting lunar distances. This fine table contains natural versir
sines from 0° to 125° at intervals of 10" to 7 places, with proportione-'
parts, and -kg versed sines from 0° to 135 at intervals of 15" to.- '
places. The arguments are also given in time. The manuscri:-
was used in the office for twenty-five years before it was printeo
Traverse tables, which occur in most collectioui of navigativ ■
tables, contain multiples of sines and cosines.
Common or Briggian Logarithms of Numbers and TngoriC' Oomtnon
metrical Ratios. — ?or an account of the invention and history of or Bng-
logarithms, see Logarithms (voL xiv. p. 773) and Napier. The gian log-
following are the fundamental works which contain the results of arithms,
tho original calculations of logarithms of numbers and trigono-
metrical ratios :—Briggs,yin'(Am«(icn Logarilhmica (London, 1624),
logarithms of numbers from 1 to 20,000 and from 90,000 to 100,000
to 14 places, with interscript differences ; Vlacq, Anthmclica Log-
arithmica (Gouda, 1628, also an English edition, London. 1631.
the tables being the same), ten figure logarithms of nu.ubers from
1 to 100.000, with differences, also log sines, tangents, and secants
(or every minute of the quadrant to 10 places, with interscript
differences; Vlacq, Trigonometna Artifcialis (Gouda. 1633). log
sines and tangents to every ten seconds of the qu.adront to 10
places, with differences, and ten-figure logarithms of numbers np
to 20,000, with differences ; Briggs, Triqonometria Britannica
/London, 1633), natural sines to 15 places, tangents and secants
to 10 places, log sines to 14 places, and tangents to 10 places,! /
at intervals of a hundredth of a degree from 0° to 45° with
interscript differences for all the functions. In 1794 Ve'tra re^i
printed at Leipsic Vlacq 's two works in a single folio voliimej
ThAsaurufLogariiiimorum Computus. ^ The arrangcuient of thfr
XXIII. — 2 ' •
10
TABLES
[ MATU EMATIC AL,
tableof loeanthmsof numbers is more rompendiou3 thau in Vlacq,
being Similar lo th.it of np or-iinary seven figure table, but it is not
60 convenient, as mistakes m taking out the diffprences are more
liable to occur The tnt;onnmtitrical un-ni gives log sines, cosines,
tangents, and ootangfuts. fiom 0" to 2' ai init-rvals of one second,
to 10 places. wTlhuut ditfereuces. and for the rest of the quadrant
at iuter\-als of u-ti s.-conds The tngonmn.'tncal canon is not
wholly rrprinted from rh..' Tri,jnnonirJr,,x ArttJ\r,ialis, as the log-
arithiiis lor cwry scrood of the first tw4» d.-gri-fs. which do not occur
in Vlacq. wtre calculated for the work by Lieutenant Dorfmond.
Vega df voted great attention to the deti-rnon of errors m Vlacq's
logarithms of numbers, and has j^ven sevt-ral iniiwrlant errata h.sts.
M Lclort (Amtoles dc i Ohscrnnioirr dc /'■tris. vol iv } has given a
full errata list m Vlac:q s;iiid Vegi* s lo;;;trilhmsofnumbeis, obtained
by compiirison wuh the gieat Krenrli manuscript Tahles da Cad-
astre (>f.v LouARil HMs, p 776 , romp ;ilso Monthly AWiWJ of Roy.
Ast. Soc for May l'*7-2. June 1S72. Marrh 1873. and 1874, suppl.
numberV Vega seems not to have bfst/>wed on the trigonometrical
canon anything like the i*.are that he devoted to the loganthms of
numbers, as O^iuss ' estimates the loul of laxt figure errors at from
*31,983 to 47.746. most of them only amounting to a unit, but
some to as much as 3 or 4 As these errors m the Triguruyinetna
Artijlciaiis still n-main uncorrected, it cannot be said that a
reliable ten place logarithmic tngonometnral canon exista The
calculator who has occasion to perform work requiring ten-figure
logarithms of numbers should use Vlacj) s ArUhTrw.ficn L'tgantUrn tea
of 1628, after r-arefully correcting the errors pointed out by Vega
and Lefort. After Vlacq. Vega 9 Thesaurus is the next b^st table .
and Pinetos Tnbht de Lofiarilhmr.s l^ufgairesd l>ix Df-cimaU^, am-
Struit^s d'npris iin jioui'e/ju modft (St Peter'^bur;'. 1871), though a
tract of only 80 pages, may be usefully employed when V'lacq and
Vega are unproi arable. Pinelos work eousLsts of three tables:
the fir!!t. or auxdiary table, rontauis a series of factors by which
the numbers whose logarithms are reiiuired are to be multiplied
to bring them within the range of t.tble 2 . it also gives the loga
nthmsof the reciprocals of these factors to 1"2 places Table 1 merely
gives logarithms to 1000 to 10 pl-v. es. Table 2 gives logarithms
from l.OOO.OOO to 1.01 1.000. with proporti">nal parts to hundredths.
The mode of using these tables is as follows. If the logarilluu
cannot be taken out directly from talile 2. a factor M i» found rn)m
the auxiliary table by which the number must be multiplied to bring
it WTthin the range of table 2, Then the loganthtn can be taken
out. and. to neutralize the effect of the multiplication, so far as the
result is concerned, log ( ^.\ roust be added , this quantity is there-
fore given in an adjoining column to M in the auxiliary table. A
similar procedure gives the number answering to any logarithm,
another factor (approximately the reciprocal nf J/) being given, so
that in both cases multiplication is used. The laborious part of
the work is the multiplication by M , but this is somewhat com-
pensated for by the ease with which, by means of the proportional
parts, the logarithm is taken out. The factors are 300 m number,
and are chosen so as to minimize the labour, only 25 of the 300
consisting of three figures all different and not involving 0 or 1.
The principle of multiplying by a factor which is subsequently
cancelled by subtracting its logarithm is used also in a tract, con-
taining only ten pages, published by M.M Naraur and Mansion at
Brussels in 1877 under the title Tables dc Logantkmcs A 12 dtcimales
jusqu'd. 4S4 milliards Here a Uble is given of logarithms of
numbers near to 434,294, and other numbers are brought wnthiu
the range of the table by multiplication by one or two factors
The logarithms of the numbers near to 434.294 are selected for
tabulation because tlieir ditferences commence with the figures 100
. . . and the presence of the zeros in the difference renders the inter-
polation easy
II seven figure logarithms do not give sufTicientlv accurate results,
it is- usual to havf recourse to ten figure tables , with one exception,
there exist rio tibles giving 8 01 9 hjjures. The exception is John
Newton's Tri^jonontrfnu BrUnmuva (London. 1658), which gives
logarithms of numliers to 100,000 to 8 places, and fllso log sines
and tangents toi evi-ry eentesiiiMl luiiiuted e.. the nme-thousandth
part ol a nght angle), and also log mnks. and tangents for the first
three degrees of the quadrant to 5 places, the interval being the
one-thousandth [)ari ot a ileL'ree. This table is also unique in
that It gives (111* logaiiThfiis o( (he <li[ferf nc-.'s insteail of the actual
dilU-reii'-es Tin- ;uran;.'<'nipnl of the pige now universal in seven-
figure tables— with the tilth h;;ures running honzontally along the
top line ol the pa^;!— is iluf to John Newton
As a tub' sevfti tiu'ure l(i;;ar it hiiis of nuntbers are nol published
scpaiatrlv, most tables nl to<:;ii iihnis con lain ing both the logarithms
of uimiiIk-is aihl a ti);!nriniiii>irie.il eamui Ijabbage ^ and Sang's
logaiithins are exceptiiuial and give logarithms of numbers only.
Balibu^'e. Tiit'le of (In- l.i"i'ir,ihms 0/ the An/urn/ XninOrrs from 1
to lOSjiOO (l.nnilnn. slt'in. typed in 1«27 ; there are several tirages
1 Si-f his ■■ Kiinjie Di'Mii rkuii)^eii <ii Vci-a > Ttir^iarns Lof/oritfivtoryin,' tu
j{*trn>.nmi'<t>, ^.nfirirhlrn for 1b:>I (repruilcil in Ins Wcrhe, vui ui. itp. 2.'t7-;j64j',
ftlso MoHlhly A'uliccj Hoy. Aat 60c. lor May lH7it
of later dates), is the best for ordinary use Oreat pains were takeo
to get the maximum of clearness The change of tij^ure in the
middle of the block of numlwrs is marked by a change of type m^
the fourth figure, which {with the sole exception of the asterisk^-
13 the t»est method that has been Uied Copies of the buok
were printed on paper uf different eoloury — yelluw, brown,
green. &.c —as it was consuler'-d that black on a while grounJ
was a fatigumg combinatioy (or the eye The lalHci were also
Lssued unth title-pages and inttoductiuus in 4ti|i<-r laiiiiuages. Tho
book IS not very e.a^y to procure uuw In 1^71 Mr Sany publtsheil',
A Aetv Tablf uf S'Vn-placc tw/ar-i/hmi. u/ all Aunilcrs from
20000 to 201(000 (L*)ndou). In au or.imary uble extruding from,
10.000 to 100. OoO the differences near the b»-ginniug are so ounicrousi
that the proportional parts are either veiy crowded or sonic of
them omitted ; by making the table extend honi 2U.0UO lo 200,000-
instead of from lO.O'iO 10 lUO 000 the dilleren>es are halved in
niagtiirude, while there are only one-fourth as many in a [>age.
There is also greater accuracy A further peculiarity of this lablo
13 that multiples of the ddferences, instead of jiroportional parts,
are given at the side of the page Typographically the table is
exceptiouaL, as there are no rules, the numbers being separated
from the loganthms by reversed commas. This wurk was lo a
great extent the result of an original calculation , see Edinburgh
Traiisactunis, vol xxvl {1871) Mr Sang proposed to publish a
nine figure table from 1 to 1,000,000, bu.i the requisite support
was not obliiined. Vanous p.apers of Mr Sang's relating to his
lifganthmic t:al<ulatiou3 vnW be found in the Edinburgh Proceedings
subsequfut to 1S72. In this ixmnexion reference should be made
to Abraham Sharp's tabic of logarithms of numbers from 1 lo lOO
and of primes from 100 to 1 100 to 61 places, also of numbers from
999,990 to 1.000.010 to 63 places These first appeared in Gcomctnf
hnprov'd by A S Philimuith (LoDdou, 17 17)- They have been
republished id Sherwin's, Callet's, and the earlier editions of
Hultons tables. Paikhurst, Jistronomical Tables (New York,
1871), gives loganthms of numbers from 1 to 109 lo 102 places.'
In many seven-tigure tables of logarithms of numbers tne value*
of .Sand fare given at the top of the page, with K, the variation of
each, for the purpose of deducing log sines and tangents. S &nd T
denote log ' and log respectively, the arguments belong
the number of seconds denoted by certain numbers (sometimea
only the first, sometimes every tenth) in the number column on
each page. Thus, in Callet s tables, on the page on which the first
«, « « . sin 6720' . „ , tan 6720" ,., ^,
Dumber is 67200, S = log ^^.^^ and T = log ^^.^^ . whJe th©
V^s are the variations of each for 10" To find, for example, log
r^52'12"7, or log sin 6732"7, we have 5=46854980 and log
6732-7-3 8281893, whence, by addition, we obtain 8-5136873 j
but y for 10" is - 229, whence the variation for L2"7 is - 3, and
the log sine required is 8-5136870. Tables of S and T are fre-
quently called, after their Inventor, "Delambres tables." Some
seven figure tables extend to 100,000, and others to 108,000, the
last 8000 logarithms, to 8 places, being given to ensure greater
accuracy, as near the beginning of the numbers the differences are
large ana the interpolations more laborious and less exact than in
the rest of the table The eight-figure logarithms, however, at the
end of a seven-figure table are liable lo occasion errcFT ; for the
computer who is accustomed to three leading figures, common to
the block of figures, may fail to notice that in this part of the
table there are four, and so a figure (the fourth) is sometimes
omitted in taking out the logarithm. In the ordinary method
of arranging a seven-figure table the change in the fourth figure,
when It occurs in the course of the line, is a source of frequent
error unless it is ven' 'it-arly indicated In the earlier tables the
change was not marked at all. and the computer had to decide
for himself, each time he took out a logarithm, whether the third
figure had to be increased. In some tables the line is brokea
wliere the change occurs , but the dislocation of the figures and
the corresponding irregularity in the lines are very awkward.
Babbage prinied the fourth figure in small type after a change.
The best method seems to be that of prefixing an asterisk to the
fourth figure of each loganthm after the- change, as is done in
Schron's and tnany other modern tables This is heautifully clear
and the asterisk at once catches the eye. Shortrede and Sang
replace 0 after a change by a jiokfa (resembling a diamond in a
pack of cards). This is verv clear m the case of the O's, but leaves
unmarked the cases in whidi the fourth figure is 1 or 2. Babbage
printed a subscript point under the last figure of each logarithm
that had been increased. Schron used a bar subscript, which,
2 Legendre (Tmif/ de.* FcTctwvi ElhpUqv/s. vol. ii-, ls2fi) gives a table of
n.ilurai sines to 15 piares, wml <>f In;; smcS to H places, fur evi-ry 15' of the
quadrant, iind also n l-ible ol I'-cantlutis nf uneven imnibers frnm 1)03 to 1501,
aiei of pntiifv from l.SQi in 10,000 to l.t places Thr l.Tticr. wt.icli wabextraciei
Iriim hie Tohlrs tJu I'tuiastTt. is ft cnnrumatinn of a Uil.le 111 Gar-liner'a
Tiiblfi' uf Lofftr.lhms (London. lT-1'2 . rHpnntod at Avignon, f'O), which pivev
l-'Rantliiiis (if all numbers lo lOOO. and ol uneven rum ben- from 1000 to 1)43;.
Le^cuUre s tables also appeared In his Exercices dt Calcul inugrol^ vol. iU. (l^l^X
aUTHEMATICAl.]
TABLES
11
bcin" moro obtrnsiTc, is not so satisfactory. In some tables tlie
inci-rase of th» last BRwro is only marked when the fif^ure is iji-
ereased to a 5, anvl then a Roman five (v) is used in place of the
Arabic Bgure. Hereditary errors in logarithmic tables are con-
sidered in two najiers " On the ProCTCss to Accuracy of Logarithmic
TVibles"anJ "On Logarithmic Tables" in Shnihly ti'otices of Roy.
AsL Sx. for 1873. Sec also the Monthly Kotkcs for 1874, p. 248 ;
tnd a paper by Cemcrth, ZUch. f. d. osferr. Gymn., Heft vi. p. 407.
■■ Passioc now to the logarithmic trigonometrical canon, the first
great advance after the publication of tlie Triganmnttria Artificials
in 1C33 was made by Michael Taylor, Tables cf Logarithms (linden,
1792), which gives log sines and tangents to every second of the
qoadrant to 7 places. This table contains about 450 pages with
'an average uumbcr of 7750 figxires to the pa^. so that ttiere are
:»ltogether nearly three millions and a half of hgures. The change
iin the leading figures, when it occurs ill a column, is not marked at
.»U ; and the table must be used with ver)' great caution. In fact it
'is advisable to go through the whole of it, and fill in with ink tho
ifirst 0 after the change, as well as make some mark that will catch
jthc eye at the head of every column containing a change. Tho table
".was calrulatetl by interpolation from the Trigano^rutria Arlificialis
;to 10 places and then reduced to 7, so that tho last figure should
'nlways be correct. Partly on account of the absence' of a mark to
denote the change of figure in the column and partly on account of
■the size of the table and a somewhat inconvenient arrangement, the
;Tvork seems never to have come into very general use. Computers
■have always preferred Bagay's Nouvtlles Tables Aslronomiqucs cl
■Hydrographiques (Paris, 1829), which also contains a complete
■ logarithmic canon to every second. The change in tho column Ls
'very. clearly marked by a large black. nucleus, surrounded by a
:circle, printed instead of zero. ' Bagay's work has now become
>ery rare. The only othjr canon to every second that has been
'published is contained in Shortredc's Logarithmic Tables (Edin.
.Durgh). This work was oftonally issued in 1344 in one volume,
but being dissatisfied with it Shortredc is.sued a new edition in
:1849 in two volumes. Tho first volume contains logarithms of
numbers, antilogarithms, &c., and tho second the trigonometrical
canon to every second. The volumes are sold separately, and may
be regarded as independent works ; they are not even described on
their title-TOges as voL i. and vol. ii. The trigonometrical canon is
'very oom[iicte in every respect, the arguments being given in time
as well as in arc, full proportional parts being ailded, &c The
'change of figure in the column is denoted by a nokta, printed instead
of 0 where the change occurs.
i Of tables in which the miadrant is divided centcsimally, the
principal are Hobert and Ideler, Nofuvclles Tables Trigonomitriqucs
,'< Berlin, 1799), and Borda and Dclambre, Tables Trigonometrigiccs
'■Decimnlcs (Paris, 1801). The former give, among other tables,
'natural and log sines, cosines, tangents, and cotangents, to 7 places,
the arguments proceeding to 3° at intervals of 10" and thence to 60°
at intcrv.ils of 1' (centesimal), and also natSral Rines and tangents
for the first hundred ten-thousandths of a right angle to 10 places.
The latter gives log sines, cosines^ tingents, cotangents, secants,
and cosecants from 0° to 3° at intervals of 10" (with full proportional
■parts for ever}' secoml), and thence to 50° at intervals of 1 (ccntesi-
'Dial) to 7 places. There is also a tabjfe of log sines, cosines, tangents,
and cotangents from 0* to 10' at intervals of 10"^nd from 0° to 50°
at intervals of IC (centesimal) to 11 places. Hobert and Ideler
S've a natural as well as a logarithmic canon ; but Borda and
elambre give only the latter. Borda and Dclambre give serert--
figure logarithms of numbers to 10,000, the line being broken when
'» change of figure takes place in it
) In Briggs's Trigonomctria Britannica of 1633 the degree is
divided centesimally, and but for the appearance in the same year
of Vlacq's Trigmwmetria Arlificialis, in which the-deeree is divided
aexagesimally, this reform might have been effected. It is clear
that the most suitable time for effecting such a change was when
the natural canon was replaced b'y the logarithmic canon, and
Briggs took advantage of this opportunity. He left the degree
unaltered, bat divided it centesimally instead of sexagesimally,
thus ensuring the advantages of decimal division (a saving of
work in interpolations, multiplications, &c ) with tho minimum of
change. The French mathematicians at the end of the 18th century
divided the right angle centesimally, completely changing the whole
system, with no appreciable advantages over Briggs's ^stem. In
fact the Centesimal degree is as arbitrary a unit as tne nonagesimal,
and it is only the non-centesimal subdivisioii of the degieo that
irh'es rise to inconvenience. Briggs's example was followea by Roe,
Onghtred, and other 17th-century writers ; but the centesimal divi-
iion of the degree seems to have entirely passed out of use, till it
was recently revived by Bremiker in his Logarithmisch-trigono-
metrisehe Tafeln mil fiinf-Dtdmahttllen (Berlin. 1872). This little
book of 158 pages givea-a five-figure canon to every hundredth of a
degree with proportional parts, besides logaritbmC of numbers,
addition- and subtraction logarithms, &c.
I Colttetiona of Tables. — For a computer who reqnires in one
^olmna logarithms of numbers and a ten-second loganthmic canon,
perhaps the two best liooks arc Schron, Snvn'Fig}tr(: Logarithm f: Co]\t$
(London, 1865, stereotyped, an English edition of the German work lions,
published at Bronswick), and Bruhn.s, A New Man'iiai of Logarithms
to Seven Places of Z)ccij?iais (Leip^'*ie, JS70). Both give logarithms
of numbers and a complete ten-second canon to 7 places ; Bruhns
also gives log sines, cosines, tangents, and cotangents to every
second up to 6° with proportional parts. Schron contains an inter-
polation table, of 75 pages, giving the first 100 multiples of all
numbers from 40 to 420. The logarithms of numbers extend to
108,000 in Schron and to 100,000 in Bruhns. Almost «|ually;
convenient is Brcmiker's edition of Vega's Logarithmic Tables'
(Berlin, stereotyped ; the English edition was translated from tho
fortieth edition of Dr Brcmiker's by W. L. F. Fischer). This book
gives a canon to every ten secoiuis, and for the fir-st five degree*
to every second, with logarithms of numbers to 100, 000^ All these"
works give the proportional parts for all tho diflurences in tho
logaritluns of numbers. In Babbagc's, Callct's, and many other
tables only every othec^able of proiwrtional p.irts is given near tho
beginning for want of apace. Schron, Bruhus, and most moderu
tables published in Germany have title-pages and introductions.
in different languages. Dunuis, Tables de Logarithmoc A sept
Decimates (stereotyfied, thiril tirage, 1868, Paris), is also very:
convenient, containing a tcn-Rccond canon, besides logarithms of
numbers to 100,000, hyperbolic logarithms of numbers to 1000, to 7
places, kc. In this work negative characteiislics oro printedj
throughout in the tiblcs of circiuar functions, the minus sign beings
placed aliove the Cgunj ; these are preferable to the ordinary char-
acteristics that are incrca-sed by 10. This is the only work we know-
in which negative characteristics are used. The edges of the pages
containing the circular functions are red, the rest being grey. Dupuuj
also edited Callet's logarithms in 1862, with which tins work must
not be confounded. Salomon, ioj^ari/AmwcAcrn/c/H (Vienna, 1827),
contains a ten-second canon (the intervals being one second for tho-
first two degrees), logarithms of numbers to 108,000, squares, cubes,
square roots, and cul"* roots to 1000, a factor table to 102,011,
ten-place Briggian and hyperbolic logarithms of numbers to 1000-
and of primes to 10,333, and many other useful tables. The work,
which is scarce, is a well-printed small quarto volume.
Of collections of general tables tho most n.seful and accessible ara
Hutton, Callet, Vega, and Kohler. Button's well-known Mathe-
matical Tables (London) was first issued in 1785, but considerablo
additions were made in the fifth edition (1811). "The tables contain
sevcn;figur6 logarithms to 108,000, and to 1200 to 20 places, some
antilogarithms to 20 places, hyperbolic logarithms from 1 to 10 at
intervals of "01 and to 1200 at intervals of unity to 7 places, logistic
logarithms, log sines and tangents to every second of the first two
degrees, and natural and log sines, tangents, secants, and versed'
sines for every minute of the quadrant to 7 places. The naturai.
functions occupy the left-hand pages and the logarithmic the right/
hand. .The finst six editions, published in Button's lifetime (d,'
1S23), contain Abraham Sharp's 61-figure logarithms of numbers.'
Olinthus Gregory, who brought out the 1830 and succeeding'
c<litions, omitted these tables and Button's introduction, whicS-
contains a history of logarithms,~\he methods of constructing them^-
&c. Callet's Tables Portatives de Logarithmes (stereotyped, Parisr
seems to have been first issued in 1783, and has since passeti*.
through a gr-eat many editions. In that of 1853 the contents are-
seven-figuro logarithms to 108,000. Briggian and hyperbolic loga--
rithms to 48 places of numbers to 100 and of primes to 1097, logs
sines and tangents Tor minutes (centesimal) throughout the quad-^
rant to 7 places, natural and log sines to 15 places for every ten'
minutes (centesimal) of the quadrant, log sines and tangents for
every second of the first five degrees (sexagesimal) and for eviry ten.
seconds of the quadrant (sexage^simal) to 7 places, besides logistic
logarithms, tho first hundred multiples of the moilulus to 24 places
and the first ten to 70 places, and other tables. This is one of the
most complete and practically useful collections of logarithnia thaV
have been published, and it is peculiar in giving a centesimally
divided canon. The size of the page in the editions published ir>-
the 19th century is larger than that of the earlier editions, the type
having been reset Vega's Tainilte Logariihmo-trigonoitutricfc v&^
first published in 1797 in two volumes. The first contains seven-i
figure logarithms to 101,000, log sines, ic. . for every tenth of a
^econd to 1', for every second to V 30', for every 10" to 6° 3', and
thence at intervals of a minute, also natural sines and tangents to
every minute, all to 7 pla'/es. The second volume gives simple
divjsws of all numbers up to 102,000, a li-sf of primes from 102,000
to •400,313, hyperbolic logarithms of numbers to 1000 and of primes
to 10,000, to 8 places, c' and log|„C to ■! = 10 at intervals of 01 toj
7 figures and 7 places respectively, the first nine powers of the-
numbers from 1 to 100, square* and cuWs to 1000, logistic loga-'
rithms, binomial theorem coclficients, ic. Vega also published
Manuale LogarithTiLico-trigoitonietnaiin (Leipsic, 1800), tne tables
in which are identical with a portion of those contained in the first
volume of the Tabula:. The Tabula: went through many cditions.j
a stereotyped issue being brought out by }. A. Hulsse (Sammlun^
mathematischer Tafdn, Leipsic) in one volume in 1840^^j^Tlifc
12
I - ^ .
cositBts &rc sekrl; the same aa those of the original work, the chief
dUfennce being that a large table of Oaossian logarithnis is added.
Vega differs from Hutton and Callet in giving so many useful non-
lo^rithmic tables, and his collection is in many respects comple-
mentary to theirs. Schulze, Neue wid erwcittrU Sammlung log-
arithmischcry IrigonomctTiacher, urid andercr Tafeln (Berlin, 1778,
2 vols.), is a valuable collection, and contains scven-fignre loga-
rithms to 101,000, log sines and tangents to 2° at intervals of a
second, and natural sines, tangents, and secants to 7 places, log
sines and tangents and Napierian log sines and tangents to 8
plaoes, all for every ten seconds to 4* and thence for every minute
to 45°, besides squares, cubes, square roots, and cube roots to 1000,
■binomial theorem coeflBcients, powers of e, and other small tables.
Wolfram's hyperbolic logarithms of numbers below 10,000 to 48
Jilaces first appeared in this work. Lambert, Supplcmenla Tabu-
arum LoganthmicaTum ct Trigoiiometricarum (Virion, 1798), con-
tains a number of useful and furious non -logarithmic tables ; it
bears a general resemblanco to the second volume of Vega, but
contains numerous other small tables of a more strictly mathe-
matical character. A very useful collection of non-logarithmic
tables is printed in Barlow's New MaViematical Tables (London,
1814). It gives squares, cubes, square roots, and cube roots (to 7
places), reciprocals to 9 or 10 places, and resolutions into their
prime factors of all numbers from 1 to 10,000, the first ten powers
of numbers to 100, fourth and fifth powers of numbers from 100
to 1000, prime numbers from 1 to 100,103, eight-place hynerbolio
logarithms to 10,000, tables for the solution of the iiTetlucible case
tn cubic equations, to;. In the stereotyped reprint of 1840 only
the squares, cubes, square roots, cube roots, ^id reciprocals aro
retained. The first volume of Shortrede's tables, in addition to the
trigonometrical canon to ev6ry second, contains antilogarithms and
Gaussian logarithms. Hassler, Tabula Logariehmics el Trigono-
metrical (New York, 1830, stereotyped), gives seven-figure logarithms
to 100,000, log sines and tangents for every second to 1°, and log
sines, cosines, tangents, and cotangents from 1° to 3° at intervals of
10" and thence to 45° at intervals of 30". Every effort has beeu
made to reduce the size of the tables- without loss of distinctness,
the page being only about 3 by 5 inches. Copies of the work were'
published with the introduction and title-page in different lan-_
piages. Stanley, Tables of Logarithms CSev/ Haven, U.S., 1860),
gives seven-figure logarithms to 100,000, and log sines, cosines,
tangents, cotangents, secants, and cosecants at intervals of ten
seconds to 15° and thence at intervals of a minute to 45° to 7 places,
besides natural sines and cosines, antilogarithms, and other tables.
This collection owed its origin to the fact that Hassler's tables were
found to be inconvenient owing to the smallness of the type. Luvini,
Tables of logarithms (London, 1866, stereotyped, printed at Turin),
gives seven -figure logarithms to 20,040, Bnggian and hyperbolic
logarithms of primes to 1200 to 20 places, log sines and tangents for
each second to 9', at intervals of 10" to 2°, of 30" to 9°, of 1' to 45°
to 7 places, besides square and cube roots up to 625. The book,
which is intended for schools, engineers, &c, has a peculiar arrange-
ment of the logarithms and proportional parts on the pages.
Chambers's Mathematical Tables (Edinburgh), containing loga-
rithms of numbers to 100,000, and a canon to every minute of log
sines, tangents, and secants and of natural sines to 7 places, besides
proportional logarithms and other small tables, is cheap and suitable
tor schools, though not to be compared as regards matter or typo-
graphy to the best tables described above. Of six-figure tables
Bremiker's LogaritAmorum VI. Dedmalium Nova Tabula Bero-
liiunsis (Berlin, 1852) is probably one of the best. It gives
logarithms of numbers to 100,000, with proportional parts, and
log sines and tangents for every second to 5°, and beyond this
pomt for every ten seconds, with proportional parts. Hantschl,
LogaTnthmisch-trigtmomctrischcs Sandbuch (Vienna, 1827), gives
five-figure logarithms to 10,000, log sines and tangents for every
ten seconds to 6 places, natural sines, tangents, secants, and
versed sines for every minute to 7 places, logarithms of primes
to 15,391, hyperbolic logarithms of numbers to 11,273 to 8 places,
least divisors of numbers to 18,277, binomial theorem coefficients,
&o. Farley's Six-Figure Logarithms (London, stereotyped, 1840)
gives six-figure logarithms to 10,000 and log sines and tangents for
every minute to 6 places. Of five-figure tables the most convenient
is Tables of Logarithms (Useful Knowledge Society, London, from
the stereotyped plates of 1839), which were prepared by De Morgan,
though they have no name on the title-page. They contain five-
figure loganthms to 10,000, log sines and tangents to every minute
to 5 places, besides a few smaller tables. Lalandc's Tables de
Logarithmes is a five-figure table with nearly the same contents as
De Morgan's, first published in 1805. It his since passed through
many editions, and, after being extended from 5 to 7 places, passed
through several more. Galbraith and Haughton, Manual of Mathe-
mniical Tables (London, 1860), give five-figure logarithms to 10,000
and log sines and tangents for every minute, also a small table of
Gaussian logarithms. Houel, Tablet de Logarithmes d Cinq Deei-
males (Paris, 1871), is a very convenient collection of five-figure
tables ; besides logarithms of numbers and circular functions, there
TABLES
[UATEUEMATICAi.'
are Gaussian logarithms, least divisors of numbers to 10,841, anti-
logarithms, &c. The work contains 118 pages of tables. ITie same
author's Recueil de Fonnules et de Tables Numeriques (Paris, 1868)
contains 19 tables, occupying 62 pages, most of them giving results
to 4 pLices i they relate to very varied subjects,— antilogarithms,
Gaussian logarithms, logarithms of -^, elliptic intrcgals. squares
for use in the method of least squares, i'c. Bremiker Tafetvier-
atelliger Logarithmen (Berlin, 1874). gives four-figure logaritbmsot
numbers to 2(i(*9. I'lg sinef, cosines, tangents, and cotangents to 8**
fori'very hundredth of a degree, and thence to 4.5° for every tenth
of rt degree, to 4 places. There are also Gaussian logari thms.sqnares
from U'UOO to 13..5IH). antilogarithms, &c. The book contnins 60
fiages. Willi^h, Popular Tables (London, 1853), is a useful hoolc,
or an amateur ; it gives Briggian and hyperbolic logarithms to
l'.i00 to 7 places, squares, &c., to 343, ic. ' =
Hi/pcrbolic or Napierian Logarithms. — The logarithms invented' Napierian
by Napier and explained by him in the Dcscriplio (1614) were not'o^
tlie same as those now called natural or hyperbolic (viz., to base,""*™'-
c), and very frequently also Napierian, logarithms. Napierian
logarithms, strictly so called, have entirely passed out of use and
are of purely hisKiric interest ; it is therefore sufficient to refer to
Logarithms and Nam er, where a full account is given. Apart
from the inventor's own publications, the only Najiierian tables o(
importance are containeci in Ursinus's . Trigonometria (Cologne,'
1624-25) and Schulze's Sammlung (Berlin, 1778), the former being
the largest that has been constructed. Logarithms to the base e^
where e denotes 2'71828, were first published by Speidell, A'n<
Logarithyjies {\&\^). .. --
The most copious table of hyperbolic logarithms is Dase, Tafcl Hype'?
der ■natiirlichcn Logarithmen (Vienna, 1850), which extends from 1 bolic
to lOOttat intervals of unity and from 1000 to 10,500 at intervals loga.
of "1 to 7 places, with differences and proixirtional parts, arranged ritbiTij^
as in an ordinary seven-figure table. By adding log 10 to the results
the range is from 10,000 to 105,000 at intervals of unity. The
table formed part of the Annals of the Vienna Observatory for
1851, but separate copies were printed. The most elaborate table
of hyperbolic logarithms is due to "Wolfram, who calculated to
43 places tho logarithms of all numbei-s up to 2200, and of alli
primes (also of a great many coniposite numbers) between this limit
and 10,009. Wolfram's results first appeared in Schulze's Samm-^
lung (1778). Six logarithms which Wolfram had been jjieveuted
from computing by a serious illness were supplied in the Berliner
Jnhr/iuch, 1783, p. 191, The complete table was reproduced in
Vega's Thesaurus (1794), when several errors were corrected.!
Tables of hyperbolic logarithms are contained in the following
collections :---Callet, all numbers t» 100 and primes to 1097 to 48
places ; Borda and Delambre (1801), all numoers up to 1200 to 11
places; Salomon (1827), all nunibei-s to 1000 and primes to 10,333
to 10 places ; Vega, Tabulx (including Hulsse's edition, 1840^ and
Kohler (1848), all numbers to 1000 and primes to 10,000 to 8 places;
Barlow (1814), all numbers to 10,000 ; Hutton and Willich (1853),
all numbers to 1200 to 7 jilaces ; Dupuis (1868), all numbers to
1000 to 7 places. Hutton also gives hyperbolic logarithms from 1
to 10 at intervals of '01 to 7 places. Rees's Cyclopmdia (1819), art,
"Hyperbolic Logarithms," contains a table of hyperbolic loga-i
rithms of all numbers up to 10,000 to 8 places. __
Tables to convert Briggian into Hyperbolic Logarithms^ and vice C6bver*>
versa. — Such tables merely consist of the first hundred (sometimes ^iion of
only the first ten) multiples of the moduhis '43429 44819... and Briggiau]
its reciprocal 230258 50929 ... to 5, 6, 8, 10, or more places. They and
are generally to be found in collections of logarithmic tables, but hyperr
rarely exceed a page in extent, and are very easy to construct, bolic
Schron and Bruhns both give the first hundred multiples of the loga-
modulus and its reciprocal to 10 places, and Bremiker (in liis edition rjthuift
of Vega and in his six. figure tables) and Dupuis to 7 places, c
Degen, Tabitlarum Enncas (Copenhagen, 1824), gives the first
hundred multiples of the modulus to 30 places. . - '-
Antilogarithms. — In the ordinary tables of loganthms the AntP
natural numbers are integers, while the logarithms are incommen- loga"
surable. In an antilogarithmic canon the logarithms are exact ritbJl^
quantities, such as '00001, -00002, &c., and the corresponding
numbers are incommensurable. The largest and earliest work of
this kind is Dodson's Antilogarithmic Canon (London, 1742), which
gives numbers to 11 places corresponding to logarithnis fiom 0 to
1 at intervals of -00001, arranged like a seven-figure logarithmic
table, with interscript differences and proportional parts at th*
bottom of the page. This woi k was the only antilogarithmic canon
for more than a century, till in 1844 Sliortrcde published the '.irst
edition of his tables ; in 1849 he published tha second edition, anj
in the same year Filipowski's tables appoared. Both these, work*
cont.ain seven-figure antilogarithms: Snortredo gives numbers to
logarithms from 0 to 1 at intervals of -00001, will) diffejcnces and
multiples at the top of tho page, and Filinowski, A Table of Anti-
logarithms (London, 1849), contains a table of tho same extent, tlw
proportional parts being given to hundredths. '
__ Addition and Subtraction, or Oaussian, Logarithmt,— The ohiM
TABLES
13
Cmssiu of snch tables b to gire log (a±S) by only one entry when log a
lop- . mJ log 4 are given (see Looabithmr, vol. iit. p. 777X Let
"'*■*-.,,,- A^Xogx,. £=log(l+^), C=log(l+i). ■^•^T'
letTuig out the specimen tsble in Leonclli's ThiorU da LogarMvus
AdditionntU el Diducti/a (Bordeaux, 1303), the principal tables are
the following. Gauss, in Zach's MonatHehe Corrcapondem (181 2),'
giving B ana C for argument A from 0 to 2 at intervals of 001,
thence to 3 40 at intervals of 01, aud to 5 at intervals of 1, all to
E places. This table is reprinted in Gauss's IVcrke, vol. iii. p. 244.
llattbiessen. Ta/el lur bapiemem Berechnung (Altona, 1818), giving
'fsnd C to 7 places for argument A from 0 to 2 at intervals of
•0001, thence to 3 at intervals of 001, to 4 at intervals of 01, and
to 5 at intervals of '1 ; the table is not conveniently arranged.
Peter Gray, Tabid and ^ormu^ (London, 1849, and "Addendum,"
1870), giving C for argument A from 0 to 2 at intervals of 0001
to 6 places, with proportional parts to hondredtlis, and lo^(l -i)
for argument A from 3 to 1 at intervals of "001 and from 1 to 1'9
at inlervals of ■flOOl, to 6 places, with proportional parta. Zech,
Tafeln der Additions, und Subtra/Uion^ ■ Lcgariihmen (Leipsic,
1849), giving B for argument A from 0 to 2 at intervals of '0001,
, thence to 4 at intervals of 001 and to 6 at inlervals of 01 ;
«lso C iat argument A from 0 to 0003 at intervals of- 0000001,
thence to 05 at intervals of 000001 and to 303 at intervals of
"00001, all to 7 places, with proportional parts. These tables are
reprinted from Hulsse's edition of Vega (1849) ; the 1840 edition
of Hulsse's Vega contained a reprint of Gauss's original table.
Wittstein, LogarUhma de Gauss A Sept D/cimalcs (Hanover, 1866),
giving B for argument A from 3 to 4 at intervals of 1, from 4
to 6 at intervals of 01, from 6 to 8 at intervals of •001, from 8 to
10 at intervals of 0001, also from 0 to 4 at the same intervals.
'In this handsome work the arrangement is similar to that in a
6even-6gure logarithmic table. Gauss's original 6ve. place table
was repnnted in Pasquich, Tabulm (Leipsic, 1817); Kohler, ycrom«
■de la irtJuiM To/efn (Leipsic, 1832), and Havdbuch (Leipsic, 1848) ;
nnd Galbraith and Haughlon, Mantial (London, 1860). Houel,
TabUs de iogari/AmM (1871), also gives a small five-place tible
of Gaussian logarithms, the addition and subtraction logarithms
being separated as in Zech. Modified Gaussian logaritlims are
given by J. H. T. JIuller, Vierstelhgc Loga-nthmen (floiha^ 1844),
viz., a four-place table of B and -log (l - -) from A = 0 to 03
'at intervals of 0001, thence to -23 at intervals of '001, to 2 at
'inten-als of '01, and to 4 at inlervals of 1 ; and by Shortrcde,
Logarxthmie Tables (vol. L, 1849), viz., a five-pl.ice table of B
■ and log (1 +x) from y< = 5 to 3 at intervals of 1, from A = 3 to 27
,»t intervals of 01, to 13 at intervals of ;O0I. to 3 at intervals
'of "01, and to 5 at inlervals of "1. Filipdwski's AjUilogarUhms
'■(1849) contains Gaussian logarithms arranged in a new way. The
principal table gives log (z+ 1) as tabular result for log x as
argument from 8 to 14 at inler^'als of "001 to 5 places. Weiden-
bach, Ta/cl um den Logariihmen (Copeuhagen, 1829), gives
log — ; for argument A from "382 to 2"002 at intervals of -001, to
z- 1 , '
3"6 at intervals of '01, and to 5'5 at intervals of '1, to 5 places.
Logistic Logistic and Proportional Lcgarilkins. — In most collections of
-and pro- tables of logarithms a five-place table of logistio logarithms for
portion- every second to 1" is given. Logistic tables give log 3600 - log x
al loga- at intervals of a second, x being expressed in degrees, minutes,
rithmsu and seconds, Schulze(1778)and Vcga{i797) have them tox = 3600"
And Collet and Hutton toI = 5280^ Proportional logarithms for
every second to 3" (i.e., log 10,800-Iogx) form part of nearly all
collections of tables n-lating to navigation, generally to 4 places,
Bometimcs to 5. Bagay, Tables (1829), gives a live-place table,
but such are not often to be found in collections of mathematical
tables. The same remark applies to tables of proportional loga-
rithms for every minute to 24", which give to 4 or 5 places the values
of log 1440-logz.. The object of a proportional or logistic table,
or a table of log a - log a:, is to facilitate the calculation 01 propor-
tiuDs in which the third teriQ is a.
iBterpo- JnUrpolalian Tables — All tabled of proportional parts may "be
lation regarded as interpolation tables. Bremiker, Tafel der Proportional-
tables.^ ll^le (Berlin, 1843), gives proportional parts to hundredths of all
Dcfmbera from 70"to699. Scnroo, LogariUi-ms, contains an inter-
polation table giving the first hundred multiples of all numbers
.from 40 to '410. Tables of the values of binomial theorem coef-
ficients, which are required when second and higher orders of differ-
ences are used, are describerl below. Woolhouse, OnJnterjtolaliont
:SuinT7ialion^ and the AdjuStjnent of Nwmerical Tables (London,
: 1865), contains nine pages of interpolation t-ibles. The book con-
sists of papers extracted from vols. xi. and xii. of the Assurance
Magazine.
Dual Dual Logarithms.— This term is used by Mr Oliver Byrne in his
logi- - Jhial Arithmetic, young Lhial Arithmetician, Tables of Dual
nthms. ioyoriMmj, &C. (London, 1863-67). A dual number of the ascend-
isj; btaoch is a continued product of powers of 11, 101, 1001, ic.
taken in order, the powers onlv being expressed; thus a 6,9,7,8
denotes (1 1)«(1'01)9(1'001)'(1 oobl)', the numbers following tha
■^ being called dual digits, A dual number which has all bilt tha
last digit zeros is called a dual logarithm ; the author uses dual
logarithms in which there are seven ciphers between the j, aud tha
logarithms. A dual number of the descending branch is a con-
tinued product of powers of '9, '99, &c. : for instance, ( 9)'( 99)" is
denoted by ■3'2T. The Tables, which occupy 112 pages, giva
dual numbers and logarithms, both of the ascending and descends
ing branches, and the corresponding natural numbers. The author
claimed that his tables were superior to those of common logarithms.
Constards. — In nearly all tables of logarithms there is a page de- Cori-
Toted to certain frequently used coDsUnts and their logarithms, staattk
such OS T, -, ifi, sjv. A specially good collection is printed in
Templeton's Millwright s and Engineer s Poel'ct Companion (cor«
reeled by S. Maynard, London. 1871), which gives 58 constants
involving r and their logarithms, generally to 30 places, and 13
others that may h« properly called mathematical. A good list of
constants involving ir is given in Salomon (1827). A paper by
Paucker in Grunert's Archiv (vol. i. p. 9) has a number of con-
stants involving r given to a great many places, and Gauss's memoil
on the lemniscate function ( Iferke, vol. iii.) has e'"^, e" , e"'"^,
&a, calculated to about 50 places. The quantity ir has been worked
out to 707 places (Shanks, Proc Hoy Soc, vol. xxi. p. 319) and
Euler's constant to 263 places (Adams, Proc. Hoy. Soc, vol. xxvii.
p. 88), The value of the modulus ^f, calculated by Prof Adams,
IS given in Logabithms, vol. xiv p 779. This value is correct'
to 263 places ; but the calculation nas since been carried to 272
places (see Adams, Proc Hoy Soc, vol. xliL p. 22, 1887). -'■
Tables for the Solution of the Irreducible Case in Cubic Eguations. — IrrediicI*
Lambert, Supplementa l\79S), gives ±(x-x') from a; =001 to 1155 ble cubic
at intervals of '001 to 7 places, and Bariow (1814) gives x'-x from equation*
x=l to 11549 at intervals of 0001 to 8 places.
Eimmial Theorem Coe£icuynts. — The values of ' . JBinoniiaf
-, , a(z-l) x[x- l)(j-2) z(j-l). .. (x-5) theorem',
• 1.2 ' 1.2.3 • ■ ■ ■ 1 . 2 ... 6 ' cp^ffi-
from x= "Ol to x= 1 at inlervals of '01 to 7 places, are serviceable for eieuts,
use in interpolation by second and higher orders- of differences.
The table quoted above occurs in ScliiiUo (1778), Barlow (1S14),
Vega (1797 and succeeding editions), Hantschl (1827), and Kohler
(1848). Rouse, Doctrine y/" CAanccs (London, no dale), gives on a
folding sheet (a + 6)" for ii=l, 2, . . . 20. Lambert, Supplementa
(179S), has the coefficients of the first 16 terms in (l-Hx)i and
(l-z)4, their accurate values being given as decimals. Vega (1797)
113 1
has a page of tables giving 5-—, ' . . . ;— -5, . , . and similar
quantities to 10 places, with their logarithms to 7 places, and a
page of this kind occurs in other collections. Kohler (1848) gives
the values of 40 such quantities. x(x + 1)
FiguraU Numbers. — Lambert, Supplememta, gives X, — ., , . . . Figuraia
a:(i-Kl)...(x + ll) , ■, » „» numbers
1.2...]2 'fr°mx=lto30.
Trigonometrical Quadratic Surds. — The surd values of the sines Trigona-
of every third degree of the quadrant are given in some tables of metrical"
logarithms; e.g., in Hutlon's (p. xx.\i.\., ed. 1855), we find quadiatio
sin 3°=i{V(5 + V5)■^ ^/V■"^V?-\/(15■^3^y5)-^/?-^/5^; and surds. • '
the numerical values of the surds \/{b + \/f>), V(V). ^'e., are given
to 10 places. These values were extended to 20 places by Peter
Gray, Mcssengcro/Math., vol. vL (1877), p. 105.
.Circulating Decimals. — Goodwyn's tables have been described Circulat*
above, p. 8. Several otliers have been published giving the num- ing deci«
bers of digits in the periods of the reciprocals of primes : Burck- niols,
hardt. Tables dcs Diviseurs du Premier Million (Paris, 1814-17), ,
gave one for all primes up to 2,543 and for 22 primes exceeding
that limit. Desmarest, Thiorie dcs Nombres {Paris, 1852), included
all primes up to 10,000. Reuschle, Mathcmatische Abhandlung,
cnthaltend neue zahlcnlheorelische Tabellen (1856), contains a siml*
lar table to 15,000. This Shanks extended to 60,000 ; the portion
from 1 to 30,000 is printed in the Proc Pay. Soc, vol. xxii. p. 200,
and the remainder is preserved in the archives of the society {Id.,
xxiii. p. 260 and xxiv. p. 392). The number of digits in tha
decimal period of - is the same as the exponent to which 10 be*
longs for modulus p. so that, whenever the period has p - 1 digits,
10 is a primitive root of p. Tables of primes having a given number,
Ji, of digits in their periods, i.e., tables of the resolutions of 10"- 1
into factors and, as far as known, into prime factors, have been
given by Loof (in Orunert's Archiv, vol. xvi. p. 54 ; reprinted in
Nouo. Annales, vol. xiv. p. 115) and by Shanks {Proc. Roy. Soc,
vol. xxii. p. 381). The former extends to n = 60 and the latter to
n = 100, but there are gaps in both. Reuschle's tract also contains
resolutions of 10"- 1. For further referencea on circulating deci'
mals, see Proc. Camb. Phil. Soc, vol. iii. p. 185 (1878).
Pythagorean rriansfes.— Right-angled triangles ia which til*
14
TABLES
Powers
of V.
Series '
Pj-tha- sides and hj-pothemise are all rational integers are frequently termed
.gorean Pjtliagorean triangles, as, for example, the triangles 3, i, 6 an4
triangles. 5, 12, 13. Sclmlze, Sammlung (1778), contains a table of such
triangles subject to the condition tan'jaoijV C" being one of the
acute angles). About 100 triangles , are given, but some occur
twice. Largo tables of right-angled rational triangles were given
bv Bretschneider, in GruiicH's Archiv, vol. L p. 96 (1841), and by
Sang, Edinburgh Transadiotis, vol. xxiil p. 727 (1864). In these
the triangles are arranged according to hypothenusea and extend
to 1201, 1200, 49, and 1105, 1073, 264 respectively. Whitworth,
in a paper read before the Lit. and Phil. Society of Liverpool in
1875, carried his list as far as 2465, 2337, 784. See also Rath,
" Die rationalen Dreiecke," in Gmnerl'a Archiv, voL IvL p. 188
(1874). Bang's paper also contains a table of triangles having an
angle equal to 120 and their sides integers.
Powers of TT. — Paucker, in Grunert's Archiv, voL L p. 10, gives
7r"* and wi to 140 places, andir"^, r'i, ir^, "^ to about 50 places ;
and in Ma3maid'slistofconstants(see"Constants,"abovB).ir^ is given
to 31 places. The first twelve powers of ir and ir"' to 22 or more
places were printed by Glaisher, J'roc. Land. Math. Soc., vol. viii. p.
140, and the first hundred multiples of ir and ir"* *» 12 placps by
Kulik, Tafel dcr Qtmdrat-und Kubik-Zahlen (Leipsic, 1848).
2'/M&n«l-" + 2-'' + 3-''+ i:c.^LetiS„,s„,<r„ denote respectively
the sums of the series 1"" + 2"" + 3"" + &c., l-"-2-"+3-''-&c.,
1"" + 3"" ^ 5"" + &c. Legendre {Traitd dcs Fondions EUiptiqucs,
vol. ii. p. 432) has computed S„ to 16 places from » = 1 to 35, end
Glaisher {Proc. Land. Math. Soc, vol. iv. p. 48) has deduced s„ and
ffn for the same arguments and to the same number of places. Tlio
latter has also given S„, s„, <t„ for n — 2, 4, 6, . . . 12 to 22 or more
places {Prcc Zand. Math. Soc, vol. viii. p. 140), and the values
of 2,, where 2o=2"'' + 3~" + 5~"+ &c. (prime numbers only in-
volved), for Jt=2, 4, 6, ... 36 to 15 places Ifiomptc Rcndu.de V Assoc.
FrMnr,aisc for 1878, p. 172).
Hyper- Tables of e' and e~', or Hyperbolic Aniilogarithms. — The largest
'bolic tables are the following. Gudermann, Thcori^ dcr potcnzial- oder
antilog- cyklischrhypcrboliscJicn Funciioiicn (Berlin, 1833), which consists of
■ aritluns, papers reprinted from vols. viii. and ix. of Crellc's Journal, and
gives log,, sinh x, log,„ cosh x, and logu tanh x from x = 2 to 5 at
intervals of '001 to 9 places and from x = 5 to 12 at intervals of '01
to 10 places. Since sinh x=\{e'-e~') and cosh r=4(c' + e-'), the
values of e» and e~' are deducible at once by addition and sub-
traction. Newman, in Camb. Phil. Trans., vol. xiii. pp. 145.241,
gives values of c~' from k = 0 to 15'349 at intervals of -001 to 12
places, from k = 15'350 to 17'298 at intervals of '002, and from
x= 17-300 to 27-635 at intervals of -005, to 14 places. Glaisher,
in Camb. Phil. Trans., vol. .xiii. pp. 243-272, gives four tabWs of e',
e~', logio C, log,,, C, their ranges bcitig from x=-001 to -1 at in-
terv.ils of 001, from -01 to 2 at intervals of -01, from "1 to 10 at
intervals of -1, from 1 to 500 at intervals of unity. Vega, Tabules
(1797 and later (^J.), has log^e* to 7 places and e* to 7 figures
from 3-= 01 to 10 at intervals of -01. Kbhler's Handbuch contains
a small table of c'. In Schulze's Sammlung (1778) (^ is given for
K = l, 2, 3, ...2". to 28 or 29 figjires and for x = 25, 30, and 60 to
32 or 33 figures ; this table is printed in Glaisher's paper (Joe. cil.).
In Salomon's Tafcln (1827) the values of e", e-, e«", <^-»'», . . . e-o»»»«»",
where n has the values 1, 2, ...9, ere given to 12 places. Bret-
schneider, in Grunert's Archiv, iii. p. 33, worked out C and e"* and
also sin x and cos z for x= 1 , 2, ... 10 to 20 places.
Facto- Factorials.— Thu values of log,, (nl), where n\ denotes 1.2.Z...n,
rials. from n = l to 1200 to 18 places, are given by Degen, Tabulanim
EnMos (Copenhagen, 1824), and.teprinted, to 6 places, at the end
of De Morgan's article "Probabilities" in the Encycl(g>xdia Mefro-
\!olita-na. Shovtrede, Tables (1849, vol. i. ), gives log (?i !) to »= 1000
to 6 places, and for the arguments ending in 0 to 8 places. Cegen
rilso gives the complements of the logarithms. The first 20 figures
of the valnea of .n x n! and the values of log,(
nxnl
are computed
Bcrnoul-
lian num-
bers.
fables of
log tan
(iT + iW-
by Glaisher as far as n=71 in the Phil. Trans, for 1870 (p. 370),
and the values of —r to 28 significant figures as far as n=50 in
Camb. Phil. Trans., vol xiii. p. 246.
Bcmoullian Numbers. — The first fifteen Bemoulliari numbers
were given by Euler, InsL Cak. Diff. , part ii. ch. v. Sixteen more
were calculated by Rothe, and the first thirty-one were published
by Ohm in Crellc's Journal, vol. xx. p. 11. Prof J. C. Adams
has calculated the next thirty-one, and a table of the first sixty-
two was published by him in the Brit. Assoc Pcport for 1877 and
in Crellc's Journal, vol. Ixxxv. p. 2G9. The first nine figures of
the values of the first 250 BernouUian numbers, and their Briggian
logarithms to 10 places, have been printed by Glaisher, Camb. Phil.
Trans., vol. xii. p. 384.
Tables of foj fcra (Jir-f J0). — Gudermann, Theorie dcr potenyial-
odcr cyklisch'hypcrbolischen Functitmcn (Berlin, 1833), gives (in 100
pages) log tan(ijr-f ^^) for every centesimal minute of the quadrant
to 7 places. Another table contains the values of this function,
also at intervals of a minute, from 88° to 100° (centesimal^ to 11
places. Legendre, TraiU dcs Fondions Ellijjliqucs (vol. n. p. 256),'
gives the same function, for every half degree (sexagesimal) of tha
quadrant to 12 places.
The GamvM Function. — Legendre's great table appeared in vol. Gamm«
ii. of his Exerrciccs de Calcul Integral (1816), p. 85, and in vol. ii. fnnctioaj
of his Traili dcs Fonctions EUiptiqms (1826), p. 489. Log,„ r(2)
, is given from x=l to 2 at intervals of -001 to 12 places, with differ,
ences to the third order. This table is reprinted in full in Schlii.
milch, Analytische Sl-udien (1848), p. 183 ; an abridgment in which
the arguments differ by '01 occurs in De Morgan, Diff, and Int.]
Calc, p. 587. The la.st figures of the vali.es omitted are also sup.'
plied, so that the full table can bo rt/loduced. A seven-place
abridgment (withonl differences) is published in Berti-and, Calmi
Integral (1870), p. 2; 5, and a sLx-figure abridgment in Williamson^
PUcgral Calculus (18, 4), p. 169. In vol. i. of bis Eierciecs (1311),',
Legendre had previoiv ly published a seven-place table of log,, V{x),
without differences.
Tables conneded w'th Elliptie Functions. — Legendre calculated Elliptic,
elaborate tables of the elliptic integrals in vol. ii. of TraiU (Zctfanction*
Fondions Ellip'.igucs (1826). Denoting the modular-angle by 0,
the an plitude by 0, and the incomplete integral of the second kind
by £, {<p) the t ibles are— (1 ) log,, E and log,. A' from fl = 0° to 90,"
at intervals of 0°-l to 12 or 14 places, with differences to the thitd
order ; (2) £■,( .) and P tp), the modular angle being 45° from ^=0*
to 90° at intervals of 0°-5 to 12 places, with differences to the fifth
order ; (3) £', (15°) and ^^"(45°) from 0 = 0" to 90° at intervals of 1°,
with dififerences to the sixth order, also E and K for the same argu-
ments, all to 12 places j (4) .£,(>?) and Fi<p) for every degree of
both the amplitude and the argument to 9 or 10 places. The first
three tables had been published previously in vol iii of the Excr*
decs de Calcul InUgral:{l^\&).
Tables involving j.^-Verhulst, Trait4 dcs Fonctions ElliptiqtusTMea
(Brussels, 1841), contains a table of log„log„ (-\ for argument *|^„°„'''
at intervals o!' 0°-l to 12 or 14 places. Jacobi, in Crclle's Journal,
voL xxvi. p. 93, gives log,, q from ff = 0° to 90° at inter^-als of 0°-Z
to 5 places. Meissel, Sammlung mathanatixher Tafeln, i. (Iscr-
lohn, 1860), consistsof a table of log,, y at intervals of 1' from 8 = 0'
to 90° to 8 places. Glaisher,^ in Month. Not. Roy. Ast. Soc, vol.
xxxvii. p. 372 (1877), gives log,, g to 10 places and j to 9 places for
every degree. In Bertrand, Calcul Ini^gral (1870), a table of log,, j
from 0=0° to 90° at intervals of 6' to 6 places is accompanied by
/2J? 1 '
tables 'of log,, / — and logi,log„ - and by .abridgments of
fSJ tr ^ q
Legendre's tables of the elliptic integrals. Schlomilch, Vorlesungcn
dcr hihcren Analysis (Brunswick, 1879), p. 448, gives a small table
of log,, q for every degree to 5 places.
Lcgendrian Cocfficimis. — The values of P'ix) for n = 1, 2, 3, ... 7 Lt,,.
from a = 0 to 1 at intervals of -01 are given by Glaisher, in Brit, diian c6^
Assoc. Rep. for 1879, pp. 54-57. The functions tabulated are P\x)=x, efficients."
P»(z) = JK3x=-l), P-'{x) = i{53?-Sx), P'{x) = H3&3e'-30x' + Z),'
/«(a:) = J(63r»-70x'-Ho.--), P«(a;) = ^(23l3;«- 315x« -1-1052--5),
P'{x) = -,^(429x'- 693x5 -H?I5x'-35x). fhe functions occur in
connexion with the tVeo-y of interpolation, the attraction of
spheroids, and other ply-sicil theories.
Ecsscl's Fundions. — Bessel's original table appeared at the endBessel's
of his memoir " Untcrsuchung des planetirischen Tlieils derfunc-
Storungen, welche aus der Bewegung der Sonne entstehen " (in tions
Abh. d.' Bc'^'u Akad., 1824; reprinted in vol. i. of his Abhand-
lungen,\'. 84). It gives 7,{x) and 7i{x)fi-om'x=0 to 3-2 at intervals
of -01. More extensive tables were calculated by Hansen in " Ermit-
telung der absoluten Stbrungen in EUipsen von beliebiger Excen-
tricitat und Neigung" (in Schri/tcn der Stcmwarte Secbcrg, part i,
Gotha, 1843). 'They include an extension of Be.isel's original table
to x=20, besides smaller tables of JJ.x) for certain values of n as
far asn=2S, all to 7 places.. Hansen's table was reproduced by
Schlomilch, in Zeilschr, fur Math., vol ii. p. 158, and by Lommel,
Studicn ilbcr die Bcsscl'schcn Functioncn (Leipsic, 1868), p. 127.
Hansen's notation is slightly different from Bessel's ; the change
amounts to halving each argument. Schlomilch gives the table
in Hansen's form ; Lommel expresses it in Bessel's
Sine, Cosine, Exponential, and Logarithm Integrals. — The func- Sine, itc,
, /"-'sinx , /*cosx . /"' e».
tions so named are the integrals
, , which are denoted by the functional signs Six, Cix, EizL
0 logx
Ii X respectively. Soldner, Thioric ct Tables d'une Nouvclle Fonciim
Transccjuiantc (Mmiich, 1809), gave the values of lix from x = 0 to
1 at intervals of -1 to 7 places, and thence at various intervals to
1220 to 5 or more places. This table is reprinted in De Morgan's
Diff. and Int. Calc, p. 662. Bretschneidar, in Grunert's Arcliiv,
vol. iii. p. 33, calculated Ei (±x). Six, Cix forx=l, 2, ...10 to 20
places, and subsequently (in Schlbmilch's ZeUschrift, vol. vi.) worked
out the values of the same functions from x = 0 to 1 at intervals of
•01 and from 1 to 7 '5 at intervals of '1 to 10 places. Two tracts
by L. Stenberg, Tahulm Logarithmi Integralis (Malmo, part i. J8Jl^
T A B — T A B
15
and part ii. 1867), giTe the values of li 10' from i= - 15 to 35 at
iutcivals of 01 to IS places. Glaislier, in FhU. Trans., 1S70, p. 367,
givis Ei(±J-), Sir, Cxj from z = 0 to 1 at intervals of -01 to 18
pUcca, from 2=1 to 5 at iiitorvals of *1 anil tlieace to 15 at intervals
of unity, and for r = 20 to 11 places, besides seven-place tables of
Six and Ctxaiid tablets of ttieir ntaxnnuin and minimum values.
See also B<:llavitis, "Tavole Nuinericlie Lof^ritmo-Intcgralc" (a
pa|>cr in Mcmoirsofthe Venetian Ituitttutc, 1S74). Uesscl calculated
the v.ilues of li 1000, li 10,000, li 100,000, li 200,000, . . . li 600,000,
and li l.OuO.OOO (see Abhaiidlmigen, vol. ii. p. 339). In Glaislier,
i'aclor T^itle for the- Sixth Milltim (18S3), § iii., tlio valuc-s of li x
are -ivon from x=0 Jo 9,000,000 at intervals of 60,000 to the
nearest integer.
Valuta of Values of C'c'^iU and c''/''e~''dx.—Thcso functions are eni-
fe-^dx ployed in Toscaiches connected with refraction'^, theory of errore,
,nj conduction of heat, ic 'LxxT'c'^'dx aiiir <!"'"(ic bo denoted
t^f'e"'dx. I'y Erfx and Erfox rcs|iectively, standing fur "error function" and
•'• "error function com[>lement," so that Erfx+Eifu x^^V"" {/*'**'.
Jfag., Dec lt71 ; it has since been found convenient to transpose
as above the delinitions of Erf and Erfc). The tables of the
functions, and of tlie functions multiplied by e'', are as follows.
Kianip, Analyse dcs infractions (Strasburg, 179S), has Erfcx fiom
x = 0 to 3 at intervals of "01 to S or more places, also logj^ (Erfcx)
and lo;;,,/<^'Erfc x) for the same values to 7 places. Ecssel, Funcla-
vtenttt Aslronomiae (Konigsberg, 1818), has logi.Xc^'Erfc x) fiom x = 0
to 1 at intervals of "01 to 7 idaces, likewise for argument 1%'ioX,
the arguments increasing from 0 to 1 at intervals of 01. Legend re,
Truiu da functions EUtpli<iucs (1S26), vol. ii. p. 520, contains
rii,«"'^), that is, 2 Erfcx from x=0 to -5 at intervals of 01 to 10
9
places. Eucke, Berliner Ast. Jahrbueh for 1834, prints — ^ Erf x
• 2 \/t
from x=0 to 2 at intervals of 01 to 7 places and — - Erf {pji) from
t = 0 to 3 4 at intervals of 01 and thence to 5 at intervals of -1 to
5 places, pbeing -4769360. Glaisher, in Phil. Mag., December 1S7I,
has calculated Eifc x from .r = 3 to 4'5 at intervals of 01 to 11, 13,
or H places. Encke's tables and two of Kramp's were reprinted
in the £ncyclopsdia iiitropoUtnna, art. " Probabilities."
Tables of Intcgrah, not Numerical. — Meyer Hirsch, Integral'
tcifeln(\i\0 . Eog. trans., 1823), and Minding, /ii^cjra/ta/dn (Berlin,
1849), give values of indefinite integrals and formulae of reduction ;
both are useful and valuable works. De Haan, Nouvelles Tables
Slntegrnlcs £it/!iii«(Leyden, 1867), is a quarto volume of 727 pages
containing evaluations of definite integrals, arranged in 485 tables.
The fir-st edition appeared in vol. iv. of the Transactions of the
Amsterdam Academy of Sciences. This, though not so full and
accurate as the second edition, gives references to the original
memoirs in wliich the different integrals are considered.
Tables relating to Iht Theory of Numbers. — These are of so tech-
nical a character and so numerous that a fu]l account cannot be
attempted here. The reader is referred to Cayley's paper in the
Brit. Assoc. Rep. for 1875, where a full description with references
is given. Three tables may, however, be biiefiy noticed on account
of their importance and because they form separate volumes: (1)
Degcn, Canon Pcllianus (Copenhagen, 1817), relates to the inde-
terminate equation y^-az^=l for values of a from 1 to 1000. It
in fact gives the expression for \Ja as a continued fraction ; (2)
Jacobi, Canon Arithmeticus (Berlin, 1839), is a quarto work contain-
ing 240 pages of tables, where we find for each prime up to 1000
the numbers corresponding to given indices and the indices corre-
sponding to given numbers, a certain primitive root (10 is taken
whenever it is a primitive root) of the prune being selected as base ;
(3) Reuschle, TafUn completer Primzahlcn, weleheaus IVurzeln der
Einheil gebildd eind (Berlin, 1875), includes an enormous mass of
results relating to the higher complex theories. A table of x(n),
where x.'^nf denotes the sum of the complex numbers which have n
for their norm for primes up ton = 13,000(cf Quart. Jounu,yo\. xx.
p. 152), his been published since the date of Cayley's report. Some
tables that belong to the theory of numbers have been described
above under "Factor Tables" (p. 7).
^iWioffrapfty.— Full biblingraphical and historical information relating to
lobfes 13 collected in Brxt. Assoc Hrp. for 1873, p. 6. The principal work? are :
— tleilbromier. Hintoria JlfQ(A«s«>s(Lelpsic, 1742), theanthnietical portion beujg
at the end ; Schejbel, Einle^lung nr TruithfmaiiRchen Pueherke-nntniis (Creslau,
1771. 84); Kastner, Gueht/^hle d^ Mattiematik (Gnttingen, 179fi-lS00) vol iii -
Murhard, Bibttolhaa A/aI*«7nuti™(X<ipsic, 1797-18041. vol. ii.; Rocp. Bilihotheca
.*f«t/*riiuiXK,f (Tubingen. 1S.X>). and continuation from 1830 to 18M by Sohnke
(L<i|«jc and L>Jndon, 18.'.4) ; Lalande. BiblioQTxiphif A^tronomifpu (Pans. 160S).
a :>e|ianit« index on p. 060. A peat deal of accurate information upon early
tablea 18 given t>y Delambre. HiMorrr de V Aiironamie Modem* (Pans, 16'Jl),
vol. I. ; and No^. xix. and xx. of Hutlon's Math^maiviaL Trocta (1812). For a
ciHiiplete list of Ingarithmic ubies of ail kinds frnni I6I4 to 18C2. see De Haan.
" letx over Ixgarjthmeiltafels," in t'ersUigen en Medfdeeiingeti drr Koning. Akadi
rnn U'ttrn^eJiajfjifn (Amsterdam, lsi52), pt. xtv, De Morgan's article "Tabies,"
wliieh appearwl linit in the Penny Cyct<rpsedi^. and afterwards with additions
In the Kitgli^h Cy>J^'«ed\j3. gives not only a good deal of bibliographical informa.
tion biit also an accoonl of tables relating to hie assurance and annuities
wtroiKimieal tables, commercial tables, &c. (J. W L. G ) *
T.\BOO (also written Tabit and Tapu) is tho rnino
given to a system of religious [irohibitioiis wliidi attaiiiutl
its fullest development in Polynesia (from Hawaii to New
Zealand ; see vol. xix. [i. 420), but of which under different
names traces m.iy be discovered in most parts of the world.
The word "taboo" is common to tho different dialects Mwwihig.
of Polynesia, and is perhaps derived from la, "to mark,"
and ;i«, an adverb of intensity. The compound word
"tabtro" (tapu) would thus originally .mean "marked
tlioroughly." Its ordinary sense is "sacred." It docs not,
however, imply any moral quality, but only "a connexion
with the gods or a separation from ordinary purposes and
exclusive appropriation to persons or things considered
sacred ; sometimes it means devoted as by a vow." Chiefs
who trace their lineage to the gods are called arii luhu,
" chiefs sacred," and a temple is called a luahi tabu, " place
sacred." The converse of taboo is naa (in Tonga e/nifwa),
wliich means "general" or "common.". Thus tho rulo
which forbade w-omen to eat with men, as well as, except
on special occasions, to eat any fruits or animals offered in
sacrifice to the gods, was called ui tabu, "eating sacred";
while the present relaxation of the rule is called ai noa,
eating generally, or having food in common. Although it
was employed for civil as well as religious purposes, the
taboo was essentially a religious observance. In Hawaii
it could be imposed only by priests ; but elsewhere in
Polynesia kings and chiefs, and even to a certain extent
ordinary individuals, exercised the same power. The
strictness with which the taboo was observed depended
largely on the influence of the person who imjio.^ed it;
if he was a great chief it would not be broken ; but a
powerful man often set at nought the taboo of an inferior. .
A taboo might be general or particular, permanent ofGeneroi
temporary. A general taboo aiiplied, e.'j., to a whole class ond pArf
of animals ; a particular taboo was confined to one or more''^"'"
individuals of the class. Idols, temiiles, the persons and
names of kings and of members of the royal family, the
persons of chiefs and priests, and the property (canoes,
houses, clothes, A-c.) of all these classes of persons were
always taboo or sacred. By a somewhat arbitrary exten-
sion of this principle a chief could render taboo to {i.e., in
favour of) himself anything which took his fancy by merely
calling it by the name of a part of his person. Thus, if he
said "Tliat axe is my backbone," or "is my head," the
axe was his ; if he roared out " That canoe ! my skull shall
be the baler to bale it out," thft, canoe was his likewise.
The names of chiefs and still jnoTe of kings were taboo,
and could not be uttered. If the name of a king of Tahiti
was a common word or even reseinbled.a common word,
that word dropped out of use and a new name was sub-
stituted for it. Thus in course of tune Most of the common
words in the language underwent oonsiderablemodifications
or were entirely change(L
Certain foods were permanefiiJy taboo to (t «'., in favour Dura.
of or for the use of) gods and inen, but were foibiddea fot'ou.
women. Thus in Hawaii the flesh of hog3, fowls, turtle,.'
and several kinds of fish, cocoa-nuts, and nearly e,rerythiiig
offered in sacrifice were reserved for gods and men, and
could not, except in special casis, be consumed by women.
In the Marquesas Islands human .riesh was tabooed from
women. Sometimes certain fruits animals, and fish we're
taboo for montlis together from botli men and women. In
the Marquesas houses were tabooed against water : nothing
was waidied in them ; no drop of water might be spilled
in thfem. If an island or a district was tabooed, no canoe
or pcrson'might approach it while the taboo lasted ; if a
path was tabooed, no one might walk on it. Seasons
generally kept taboo were the approach of a great religious
cereniony, the time of preparation for war, and the^ickness
of chiefs. _ The time during which they lasted varied from
16
TABOO
years to .months or days. In Hawaii there was a tradition
of one that lasted thirty years, during which men might, not
trifti their beards, &c. A common period was forty days.
A taboo was either common or strict. During a common
taboo the men were only required to abstain from their
ordinary occupations and to attend morning and evening
prayers. But during a strict taboo every fire and light on
the island or in the district was extinguished ; no canoe
was launched; no person bathed; no one, except those
I who had to attend at the temple, was allowed to be seen
out of doorsj no dog might bark, no pig grunt, do cock
crow. Hence at these seasons they tied up the mouths of
dogs and pigs, and put fowls tnder a calabash or bandaged
their eyes. The taboo was imposed either by proclamation
or by fixing certain marks (a pole with a bunch of bamboo
leaves, a white cloth, <fcc.)'on the places or things tabooed.
Penalty The penalty for the violation of a taboo was either religions or
for Tio- civil The religious penalty inflicted by the offended atuas or
Ution. spirits generally took tne form of a disease : the_ offender swelled
' np and died, the notion being that the atua or his emissary (often
an infant spirit) had entered into him and devoured his vitals.
, Cases are on record in which persons who had unwittingly broken
; a taboo actually died of terror on discovering their fatal error.
; Chiefs and priests, howfever, could in the case of involuntary trans-
gressions perform certain mystical ceremonies which prevented this
penalty from taking effect. The civil penalty for breaking a taboo
varied in severity. In Hawaii there were police officers appointed by
' the king to see that the taboo was observed, and every breach of it
1 was punished with death, unless the offender had powerful friends in
the persons of priests or, chiefs. Elsewhere the punishment was
milder; in Fiji (which, however, is Melanesian) death was rarely
inflicted, but the delinquent was robbed and his gardens despoiled.
In New Zealand this judicial robbery was reduced to a system. No
sooner was it 'known that a man had broken a taboo than all his
friends and acquaintances swarmed down on him and carried off
whatever'they could lay hands on. Under this system (known as
mum.) property cu-culated with great rapidity. If, e.g., a child
fell into the'fire. the latner was robbed oi nearly all he possessed.'
Things - IJesides the nermanent and the artificially created taboos there
natural]^ were others whicn arose spontaneously as a result of circumstances.
taboo. Thus all persons dangerouslv ill were taboo and were removed from
their houses to sheas mthe bush ; if they remained in the house
and died there the house was tabooed and deserted. Jlothers after
childbirth were taboo, and so were their new-born children. Women
before marriage' were noa, and could have as many lovers as they
chose ; but after marriage they were strictly tabooed to their
husbands and from every one else. One of the strictest taboos
'was incurred by all persons who handled the body or bones of a
dead person or assisted at his funeral. In Tonga a common person
Avho touched a dead chief was tabooed for ten lunar months ; a
chief who touched a dead chief was tabooed for from three to five
months according to the rank of the deceased. Burial grounds
were taboo ; and m New Zealand a canoe which had carried a corpse
was never afterwards used, but was drawn on shore and painted red.
' Ked was the taboo colour in New Zealand ; in Hawaii, Tahiti,
Tonga, and Samoa it was white. In the Marquesas a man who had
slain an enemy was taboo for ten days : he might havg no inter-
course with his wife and might not meddle with fire ; he had to get
some one else to cook for him. A woman engaged in the prepara-
tion of cocoa-nut oil was taboo for five days or more, during which
she might have no intercourse mth men. A tabooed person might
not eat his food with his hands, but «as fed by another person ; if he
could get no one to feed him, he had to go down on his knees and pick
up his food with his mouth, holding his hands behind him. A chief
wno was permanently taboo never ate in his own house but always
in the open air, beiug fed by one of his wives, or taking his food
with the help of a fern stalk so as not to touch his head with his
hands ; food left by him was kept for him in a sacred place ; any
other person eating of it was supposed to die immediately. A man
of any standing could not carry provisions on his back ; if he did
80 they became taboo and were useless to any one but himself. For
the taboo was communicated as it were by infection to whatever a
taboojd person or thing touohed. This rule applied in its fullest force
to the king and queen of Tahiti. The ground they trod on became
sacred ; if they entered a house, it became taboo to them and had
to be abandoned to them by its owner. Hence special houses were
) ' The origin of this custom may perhaps be discerned in a custom
of the Dicri tribe, South Australia. Among them,. If a child meets
,with an accident, all its relations immediately get th^hf heads broken
|with sticks or boomerangs till the blood flows dowft -their fteea,' this
irorgical operation being .supposed to ease the chiU't piip^JW*«
yribae/S. Av^Tolia.-^iW). ' ' -',•
set apart for them on their travels, and, except in their hereditary
districts, they were always carried on men's shoulders to prevent
them touching the groUnd. Elsewhere, as in New Zealand, thia
rule was not carried out so strictly. But even in New Zealand the
spots on which great chiefs rested during a journey became taboo
and were surrounded with a fence of basket-work. The head and
hair, especially of a chief, were particularly taboo or sacred ; to
touch a man's head was a gross insult. If a chief touched his own
head with his fingers he had immediately to apply them to his nose
and snuff up the sanctity which they had. abstracted from his head.
The cutting of a chiefs hair was a solemn ceremony ; the severed
locks were collected and buried in a sacred place or hung up on a
tree. If a drop of a chiefs blood fell upon anything, that thing
became taboo to him, i.e., was his property. If )ie breathed on a
fire, it became sacred and could not be used for cooking. In his
house no fire could under any circumstances be used for cooking ;
no woman could enter his house before a certain service had been
gone through. Whatever a new-born child touched became taboo ,
to {i.e., in favour of) the child. The law which separated tabooed
persons and things from contact with food was especially strict.
Hence a tabooed or sacred person ought not to leave his comb or
blanket or anything which had touched his head or back (for the
back was also particularly taboo) in a place where food had been
cooked ; and in drinking he was careful not to touch the vessel
with his hands or lips (oUierwise the vessel became taboo and could
not be used by any one else), but to have the liquid shot down his
throat from a distance by a second person. ^
There were various ceremonies by which a taboo could be removed. Rrra'Wio
In Tonga a person who had become taboo by touching a chief or ot [M^a.
anything belonging to him could not feed himself till he had got
rid of the taboo by touching the soles of a superior chiefs feet with
his hands and then rinsing his hands in water, or (if water was
scarce) rubbing them with the juice of the plantain or banana. But,
if a man found that he had already (unknowingly) eaten with
tabooed hands, fie sat down before a chief, took up the foot of the,
latter, and pressed it against his stomach to counteract the effect'
of the food insida In New Zealand a taboo could be taken off by 1
a child or grandchild. The tabooed person touched the child and'
took drink or food from its hands ; the man was then free, but the;
chUd was tabooed for the rest of the day. .A Maori chief who be-!
came taboo by touching the sacred head of his child was disinfected,'
so to speak, as follows. On the following day (the ceremony could,
not be performed sooner) he rubbed his hands over with potato or
fern root which had been cooked over a sacred fire ; this food was
then carried to the head of the family in the female line, who ate
it, whereupon the hands became TUxi. The taboo was removed
from a new-bom child in a somewhat similar manner. The father
took the child in his arms and touched its head, back, &c., with
some fern root which had been roasted over a sacred fire ; next
morning a similar ceremony was performed on the child by its
eldest Felative in the female line ; the child was then noa, i.e., free
from taboo. Another mode of removing the taboo was to pass a ^
consecrated piece of wood over the right shoulder, round the loins,
and back again over the left shoulder, after which the stick was
broken in two and either buried, or burned, or cast into the sea, '
Besides the taboos already described there were others which PrivatST
any one could impose. In New Zealand, if a man wished to pre- taboos^
serve his house, crop, garden, or anything else, he made it taboo ;
similarly he could appropriate a forest tree or a piece of drift timber,
&c., by tying a mark to it or giving it a chop with his aie. In
Samoa for a similar purpose a man would set up a representation
of, e.g., a sea pike or a shark, believing that any one who meddled
with property thus protected would bejdlled by a sea pike or shark
the next time he bathed. Somewhat similar to this was what may bo
called the village taboo. In^the autumn the k-U7nera (sweet potato)
fields belonging to the village were taboo till the crop was gathered,
so that no stranger could approach them; and all persons engaged
in getting in the crop were taboo, and could therefore for the time
engage in no other occupation. Similar taboos were laid on woods
during the hunting season and on rivers during the fishing season. \
On looking over the various taboos mentioned above Classn
we are tempted to divide them into two general classes, — flcation,
' taboos of privilege and taboos of disability. Thus the
taboo of chiefs, priests, and temples might be described as
a privilege, while the taboo imposed on tlie sick and on
persons who had come in -cdntact with the dead might be
regarded as a disability ; and we might say acccordingly^
that the former rendered persons and things sacred or holy,i
while the latter rendered them unclean or accursed. But,
■that no such distinction ought to be drawn is clear fromJ
the fact that the rules to be observed in the pnd case ancl.
in the other were identical. On the other hand, it is troff
.that the opposition of sacred and accur§e(J, clean '^u?^
TABOO
17
UtirleAn, which plays so iiniioitant a part in the later
history of religion, did in fact arise by diirorentiation from
lhesiiii:lc root idea of taboo, which includes and reconciles
them both and by rcTercncc to which alone their hjstory
»nd mutual relation are intelligible.
The original character of the taboo must be looked for
•ot in its civil bill III Its religious element. It was not the
Creation of a legislator but the gradual outgrowth of
animistic beliefs, to which the ambition and avarice of
chiefs and priests afterwards gave an artificial extension.
I But in si-rving lh>'<ause of avarice and ambition it subserved
(ilie pro^'ress of civMization, by fostering conceptions of the
|riglils of property and the sanctity of the marriage tie, —
toiiceptinns which in time grew strong enough to stand by
themselves and to fiing away the crutch of superstition
which in e<irlicr days had been their sole support. For we
shall scarcely err in believing that even in advanced societies
the moral sentiments, in so f:ir as they are merely sentiments
•nd are not based on an indiiciion from e.vpcrience, derive
mu<h of their force from an original system of taboo.
Thus on the talioo were grafted the golden fruits of law
and moralitv, while the parent stem dwindled slowly into
the sour cnilis and empty husks of pojmlar superstition on
which the swine of modern society arc still content to feed.
Ii remains to iiulicate briolly some facts which point to a
wide ditfusioii under various names of customs similar to
the taboo As might have been expected, the taboo is
found, though in a less marked form, among the Micro-
oesians, Malays, and Dyaks, all of whom are ethnologically
connected with the Polynesians. In Micronesia both the
name and the institution occur the inhabitants of certain
islands are forbidden to eat certain animals and the fruits
of certain trees, temples and groat chiefs are tabooed
from the people ; any one who fishes must previously for
twenty-four hours abstain frona women;' in conversing with
women men are not allowed 'to use certain words, <tc.
Again, the Malays have tlie custom, though apparently not
the name. In Timor and the neighbouring islands the
word for taboo is pamali (or poma/i) ; and during the
long festival which celebrates a successful headhunt the
naan who has secured the most heads is pamali ; he must
not sleep with hjs wife nor cat from his own hand, but is
fed by women. Pamali is a Javanese word, and had
originally in Java and Sumatra the same meaning that it
now bears in Timor. In Celebes a mother after child-
birth was pamnli Amongst the Dyaks of Borneo the
phmnli (called by the Land Dyaks ponkli) is regularly
practi.sed at the planting of nee, harvest home, when the
cry of the gazelle is heard behind, in times of sickness,
after a death. Ac. At the harvest homo it is observed by
the whole tribe, no one lieing allowed to enter or leave the
village. The house where a death has taken place is
pamali for twelve days, during which no one may enter
It and nothing may be taken out of it. A tabooed Dyak
may not bathe, meddle with fire, follow his ordinaxy occu-
pation, or leave his house. Certain families are forbidden
to eat the flesh of particular animals, as cattle, goats, and
snakes. The taboo is often indicated by a bundle of
spears or a rattan. The Motu of New Guinea also have
the taboo a man is tabooed after handling a corpse. He
then keeps apart from his wife , his food is cooked for
hiin by his sister, and he may not touch it with his hands.
After three days he bathes and is free.' But the Motu
appear to be Malayo- Polynesians, not Melauesians proper.
However, in Melanesia also we find the taboo. It tlour-
' For other cx^iinplus of tjboos feepiicuilly idjuiiciiod> to coutinence)
Amon^ various peoplas m rionocxioQ with fi.sliing, buDiiDg, au<l trudiog,
aee Turner, Sanwon, p. 34.9 ; Aymonier, A'olcs stir Its Laos, pp. 21 sq.,
25, 26, 113, HI, W. Powell, Want/Brings m a Wdd QuurHry. p.
207 , /iepoi-t nf hUtrnaiiontil Kx-paiiLuni, to I'mnii Barrow, Alaska, p.
39. Wa»liiucloii. laSS. ' Joiirn. 4.iU/irop. I'lisl., viii. p. 37a
S3— 2
ished 111 Fiji, It is observed in New Caledonia in cases
of death, to preserve a crop, etc. According to the Rev.
R. H. Codnngton, there is this distinction between the Mel-
anesian and the Polynesian taboo, that for the former there
IS no supernatural sanction : the man who breaks a taboo
simply pays compensation to the person on whose tabooed
properly he has transgressed. But Mr R. Parkinson slates
that in New Britain (now New Pomerania) a person who
violates a taboo-mark set on a plantation, tree, &c., is
supposed to be " attacked by sickness and misfortune."
To go through the similar customs observed by savages all
over the world would be endless ; we may, however, note
that a regular system of taboo is said to exist among some
of the wild tribes of the Naga HiUs in India,^ and that the
rules not to touch food with the hands or the head with
the hands are observed by tabooed women among one of
the Fraser Lake tribes in North America.' In fact some
of the most characteristic features of taboo — the prohibi-
tion to eat certain foods and the disabilities entailed by
childbirth and by contact with the dead, together with a
variety of ceremonies for removing these disabilities — ■
have been found more or less amongst all primitive races.
It is more interesting to mark the traces of Such customs
among civilized peoples, e.g., Jews, Greeks, and Romans.
Amongst the Jews — (1) the vow of the Nazarite (Num. Amongst
VI. 1-21) presents the closest resemblance to the Polynesian tf^ Jews,
taboo. The meaning of the word Nazarite is "one separated
or consecrated," and this, as we saw (p. 15), is precisely
the meaning of taboo. It is the head of the Nazarite that
IS especially consecrated (v. 7, " his separation unto God is
upon his head ", v. 9, "defile the head of liis separation" ,
v. 1 1, " shall hallow his head "), and so it was in the taboo.
Tho Nazarite might not partakeof certain meats and drinks,
nor shave his head, nor touch a dead body, — all rules of
taboo. If a person died suddenly beside him, this was
said to "defile the head of his separation," and the same
efl'ect, expressed in the same language, would apply to a
tabooed Polynesian in similar circumstances. Again, the
mode of terminating the vow of the Nazarite corresponds
with. the mode of breaking a taboo. He shaved his head
at the^door of the sanctuary and the priest placed food in
his hands, either of which acts would have been a flagrant
violation of a Polynesian taboo. (2) Some of the rules for
the observance of the Sabbath are identical with rules of
strict taboo ; such are the prohibitions to do any work, to
kindle a fire in the house, to cook food, and to go out of
doors (Exod. xxxv. 2, 3; xvi. 23, 29). The Essenes strictly
observed the rules to cook no food and light no fire on the
Sabbath (Josephus, Bell. JuH., li. 8, 9). (3) Any one who
touched a dead body was " unclean " for seven days , what
he touched became ifnclean, and could communicate its
uncleanness to any other person who touched it. A. the
end of seven days the unclean person washed his clothes,
bathed himself, and was clean (Num. xLx. 11, 14, 19, 22)..
In Polynesia, as we have seen, any one who touched a
dead body was taboo , what he touched became taboo, and
could communicate the infection to any one who touched
it ; and one of the ceremonies for getting rid of tlie taboo
was washing. (4) A Jewish mother after childbirth was
unclean (Lev. xii.) ; a Polynesian mother was taboo. (5)
A great many animals were unclean, and could infect with
their uncleanness whatever they touched, earthen vessels
touched by certain of them were broken Certain animab
were taboo in Polynesia, and utensils which had contracted
a taint of talKxi were in some cases broken.
Amongst the Greeks a survival, or at least a reminiscence, AmongBt
of a system of taboo is perhaps to be found in certain tli*
applications of the epithets "cacied" and "divine" jn "reek*. .
•* Joum. Anthrop. Inst., xi. p. 71 . Daltnn, Dcsaiptive SthTwlogy
-' Jitigai, p. 43. * Joiiru. Anlhrop. Irsl.. \\i. p. 2W
XXIII. — 3
18
T A B — T A :B
Homer. Thus a king or a chief is sacred (Upij U Ti)A&
tuL)(oio,Od.,'u. i09, z\iiu 405, &c , U/jbv fl.ivos'A.\K^v6ou>,
Od., viL 167. viii. 2, &c.) or divine (Sios 'OSxxrafv^, &c. ,
'O&vaxnjot 0 toio. It., ii 335, (fee , Oiiuiv /?a<r< \^u)i', Od , iv.
■€91); his chariot is sacred (It., xvii 464), and his house is
divine (Orf., iv 43). An army is sacred (Od., xxiv. 81),
.and "lo are sentinels on duty (//, X 56, xxiv 681). This
resembles the war.taboo of the Polynesians ; on a warlike
expedition all Maori warriors are taboo, and tke permanent
persona! taboo of the chiefs is increased twofold • they are
"tabooed an inch thick " The Jews also seem to have
had a war-taboo, for when out on the warpath they ab-
stained from women (1 Sam xxi 4, 5), — a rule strictly
observed by Maori warriors on a dangerous expedition.
The Dards, who with the kindred Siah Posh K&firs on the
southern slopes of the Hindu Kush^tribes which probably
of all Aryan peoples retain a social state most nearly ap-
proximating to that of the primitive Aryans — abstain from
sexual intercourse during the whole of the fighting season,
from May to September, and "victory to the chastest"
is said to be a maxim of all the fighting tribes from the
Hindu Kush to Albania ' The same rule of continence in
war is observed by some Indian tribes of North America '^
In Homer a fish is sacred (// , xvi 407), and Plato points
out that during a campaign the Homeric warriors never
ate fish (/irp , 404 B) Even in time of peace the men of
Homer's day only ate fish when reduced to the verge of
starvation (OJ , iv 363 «'/ , xii 309 sq ). The Slab
Posh Kafirs refuse to eat fish, although their rivers
abound in it ■* The Hindus of Vedic times appear not
to have eaten fish * It is probable, therefore, that
among the early Aryans, as among primitive peoples in
various parts of the world, the eating of fish was tubooe*!.
Again, the threshing-Hoor, the winnowing fan, and meal
are all sacred (// , v. 499 , H Merc, 'Jl, 63, //., xi. 631).
Similarly in New Zealand a taboo was commonly laid on
places where farming operations were going on ; and among
the Basutos, before the corn on the threshing-fioor can be
touched, a religious ceremony has to be performed, and
all "defiled" persons are carefully kept from seeing it.^
Although the Homeric folk ateswiiie, the epithet "divine^'
commonly applied to a swineherd in Homer may point to
a time when pigs were sacred or tabooed In Crete pigs
were certainly sacred and not eaten (Athenaeus, 376a),
and apparently at Pessinus also (I'ausanias, vu 17. 10).
Amongst the Jews and Syrians, of course, pigs were tabooed ;
and it was a moot question with the (Jreeks whether the
Jews abhorred or worship|)ed pigs (Plut., (Jiuxst. Conv , iv.
6). The pigs kept in the great temple at H lerapoUn^w^re
neither sacrificed nor eaten , some people thought that they
were sacred, others that they were unclean, tVayeav (Lucian,
/)« Dea Syria, 54) Here we have an exact taboo, the
ideas of sacredness and unoleauness being indistinguish-
able Similarly by the Ojibways the dog is regarded as
"unclean and yet as in some respei'ts holy "' The diver;
gence of the two conceptions is illustrated by the history
of the cow among ditTerent branches of the Aryan race .
the Hindus regard this ammal as sacred ; the Shin caste
among the Dards hold it in abhorrence' The general
word for taboo in Greek is ayoi, which occurs in the sense
both of "sacredness " and of "pollution"; and the .same
is true of the adjective ayios and of the rare adjective
' Reclus, A^oK7» iifog Unw vui p I-'t>
' Schoolcraft, huiuin TrtJjc3, iv p 6;j . A<jair, Utst of American
Indiana, p 163. Cp Morse. Report mt- Induin Affairs, p \Z0 sq,
and Bancroft, Native Kacea u/ On Paci/U: Stales, i p I 89
' Elphinstone, A'in^{/twn tz/Cdu/Hi/, ii 379, eil 1 839 . ^(ntm. ^(Atu;/
Sue, i p 192 * Zininicr, AUinUmJies Leben, p. 271
' Ca.sali!*. Tfu B&mUoa, p '251 sq.
• Koti], KUcfii-iJami, p 38. Eog. trans,
^ F Drew. Tfu yuinmoo and /laskmir Tcrrttvru:3. p. 42S: Biddulph,
Trihf.s of the HmdiKi KooitK p 51.
oKayijs, "tabooed" (Bekker'a AnecdoUt Greua, 212, 32,
Harpocration, s.v ai/ayfis) Usually, however, the Greeks
discrimmated the two senses, dyvos being devoted to the
sense of *' sacred " and eVayijs to that of " unclean ' or
"accursed" "To taboo" is a^i'feii' , "to observe a taboo"
is o.yv(.\ni\/ , and the state or season of taboo is dyi'tia
or dyurrei'u The ndea of the Greek dyveia correspond
closely to thpse of the Polynjsian taboo, consisting in
" purificatiofls, washings, and sprinklings, and in abstain-
ing from moujining for the dead, child-bed, and all pollu-
tions, and in refraining from certain foods," &c '
Amongst the Romans, who preserved more traces of Amongsi
primitive barbarism than the Greeks, the flamen dialis '''»
was hedged in by a perfect network of taboos He was "^
not allowed to tide or even touch a horse, nor to look at
an army under arms, nor to wear a ring which was not
broken, nor to have a knot on any part of his garments ,
no fire, except a sacred fire, could be taken out of jis house,
ho might not touch or even name a goat, a dog, raw meat,
beans, and ivy , he might not walk under a vine , the feet
of his bed had to be daubed with mud his hair could be
cut only by a freeman, and his hair and nails when cut
had to be buried under a lucky tree , he might not touch
a corpse, <fec His wife, the flaminica, was also subject
to taboos : at certain festivals she migu,. not comb her hair ,
if she heard thunder, she was taboo (ferxata) till she had
offered an expiatory sacrifice. The similarity of some of
these rules to the Polynesian taboo is obvious The Roman
fenae were periods of taboo , no work might be done during
them except works of necessity e j, an ox might be pulled
out of a pit or a tottering roof supported Any person
who mentioned Salus, Semonia, Seia, Segetia, or Tutilina
was tabooed {fenas observabat) '^ The Latin smct is exactly
" taboo"; for it means either "sacred ' or " accursed "
L(n.:ralwre — On the Polynesian taboo, sefCook. Vmages, vol t
p. 427 .v^., vol vii. u. 146 sq (eii 1809) , G K Angas, Savaqe Sana
in Australia and New Zealand, passim , W ^'ale, New Zealand, p
84 sq. , Kllis, Folynesmn ftesearches 2d ed vol iv p 385 sq ,
Lan^dorlf, lirise um die Well, i p \\\ sq Mariner Tonga
Islands, i p 141 note, ll pp 82, 220 s? . Turner, Nineteen Years in
Polynesia, p 294 sq , lu , Samoa, p 185 sq , Klernin, Cullur-
grxhichle, IV p Z7'2 sq. , Wailz-Gerland, Anthropologit der Nalur.
I'olkcr, VI. pp 343-363 , Shortland, Traditions and Supirstttiont
o/lJie NewZmlitndfrs,p 101s? . \A . Moon Keligwn and Mylhology
V 25 sq ; Vld New Zealand, by a t'akeha Mauii, cliapters vii -XM
i'olark, Ma.nnfrs and Customs of tkr New Zcalanders. l p 275 sq ,
\}ii;\h\\ho.ch. Travels m New Zealantt, n y 100 s? . R Taylor. A'cu;
Zealand, p. 163 sq On the uboo in Mii ronesia, see Waitz Gerland,
op cU., V pt ii p 147 sq. , among the Dyaks and Malavs, see Id ,
VI p 354 sq. , Low, Sarawak, pp 260 262 , Bock, Hmd Huntirs of
Borneo pp 214-230 , Spencer St John, Li/e in the Fotests of tfU
Far 'Bast, i. p. 184 sq. , A R Wallace, TIte Malay Archipelago, p
-M^ , 10 MeUlnesia, \Villiams, Fiji and tlu Fijians, I p 234 sq
(ed I860); J K ErskiDe,.7'Ac H'esiem Paalie. \> 254, Vim-endon-
Oumoulin and De.sgraz, fles Marquises, p "259*?. ; Journ. Anthrop
Inst.. X pp 279, 290. Ch. Leinire, Nouvelle CaUdi^nie, Paris
1884, p. 117 , H Paikiiison, Im Bismarck Archipel, Leipsic, 1887
p. 144 (J G FE.)
TABIvtZ, Tavris, or Tavhiz, a town of Persia, capital of
the province of .Adarbaijin (Azerbijan, ancient Alropatene),
is situated in 38° 4' N lat. and 46° 18'^ long , more than
400o feet above the sea, at the eastern end of a wido
valley, through which runs a river whose waters irrig-.ite
the gardens that encircle the town In 1812 the walls
had a circumference of 3 j miles Overlooking the valley
on the north-east and east are bold bare rocks, while to
the south rises the more regular pe.ik of Sahand The
town possesses few buildings of note, and of the extensive
ruins but few merit attention Moiinsey in 1SG6 men-
tioned the blue mosque , the ark or citadel, containing the
palace of the heir apparent, — a large frowning building near
the centre of the town; the Great Maidan, an open sijuare,
" Piogencs Laerliua, viii. 1, 33
» Macrobios, Sat , i 16. 8.
cp Plut, QuKst Conti., V. 10.
T A C — T A C
19
•»nd the bazaars The mosque, which he ascribes to Sh4h
Abbas, 13 that of the Turcoman Jahan Sh4h (1410-1468).
Abbas Mirza converted the citadel into an arsenal. Among
the ruins of old Tauris the sepulchre of the Mogul sultan,
Ghazan Khiin, is no longer to be distinguished, except as
part of a huge tumulus. It is situated about 2 milee
southwest from the modern town, but far within the
original boundaries. .Xhe "spacious arches of stone and
other vestiges of departed majesty " with which Porter
found it surrounded in 1818 were possibly remains of
the college {madrasa) and monastery (jrfwiya) where Ibn
Batuta found shelter duung his visit to the locality In
spite of the cholera visitation of 1822 and other occasional
ravages of sickness, and the severe cold of winter, the
climate of Tabriz is proverbially healthy. Its orchards
and fruit gardens have a high reputation, and its running
streams make amends for ill-paved and narrow streeta
and sorely defective municipal arrangements General
Schindler estimated the population in 1886 at about
170,000. — a number agreeing with the latest local census.
The same authority stales th.it the city conuiins K tombs
of imimzadehs, 318 mosques, 100 public baths, 166 cara-
vanserais, 3922 shops, 28 guard houses, and 5 Christian
(Armenian) churches , but this account must comprise in
some of Its items more buildings than are actually lu use
There are said to be nearly 3000 Armenians in the place
Tdlirlz Id a city of txt«n3ive commcrco, a great emporium for the
trade of Persia on the west, and tlie sf>eci:il mart hetween Turkey,
Russia, aod Persia ll possesses an intemattunal tele^::|>fi .-station,
and the line passes henre to TiHis and Europe on one side aii<i to
Teheran on the other Subsidiary lines have been construuted to
Dear Astara on the Caspian (136 miles lon^) and to Saujhulak on
the Kurdish frontier (125 miles long) East wick in I860 estimated
;the*value of the exports to Turkey at about i'60O,0fiO and to Russia
:at about £400.000. exclusive of smuggling The chief imports
were British, and some Swiss — coloured cotton goods, grev calicoes,
and broadcloth, — with miscellaneous goods fioin Germany In
1881 there was a marked improvement in the tiade of Tabriz,
mainly in increased imports from CoDsuntinople In 1885 the
imports amounted to £721.730 and the exports to £306,ti87 The
principal items of the former were cottons {from England), woollen
cloth (from Austria and Germany), sugar (from France), and lea
(from HoIlaQd)i of the latter dried fruits (lo Russia) and silk (to
France. Austria, and Switzerland). There are lea<i mines near
Tabriz, and cobalt and copper are obtainable from the Sahand
There is perhaps do city in Persia on which so murli has f>een
recorded by native and foreign writers as Tabriz Among the
former Ibn Batuta, the Arab, and Hamd Ullah, the Fersian. are
nota)»le Of the latter may be mentioned Chardin, Porter. Ouseiey,
Tancoigne, Moricr. Du Pre, Malcolm, Lady Shell, Eastwick. Moun
8*y, Scdiindler. and Madame Dieulafoy (in Tour du Monde, 1883)
The name Tabru has been a subject ol mui:h comment and con
jecture, but tliere is no doubt that it is taken from (lie ancient
name of Tauns The history of Tabnz is a long and painful record
of sieges and conflicts, of earthquakes and desirucliou by natural
causes Of late years it has recovered to some extent its former high
position, and is lu many respects a worthy rival to the capital
TACITUS The famous Roman hi.storian Tacitus, who
ranks beyond dispute in the highest place among men of
letters of all ages, lived in the latter half of the first and
in the early part of the 2d century of our era, through
the reigns of the emperors Nero, Oalba, Otho, Vitellius,
Vespasian, Titus, Domitian, Nerva, Trajan All we know
of his personal history is from allusions to himself in
his own works, and from eleven letters addressed to him
by his very intimate friend the younger Pliny The exact
year of his birth is a matter of inference, but it may
be approximately fixed near the close of the reign of
Claudius, from 52 to 54 a D Pliny indeed speaks of
Tacitus and himself as being " much of an age " ' (jmipe
modum evjiuxles), tW)ugb himself born in 61 or 62, but
be must have been some years junior to his friend, who
began, he tells us,''' bis official life with a qusestorship
under Vespasian in 78 or 79, at which time he must have
' PUny, Epp., n. 'JO,
Hiai , I, 1.
been twenty-five years of age at least. Of his family and
birthplace we know nothing certain , we can iufer nothing
from his name Cornelius, wl , h was then very widely
extended , but the fact of bis early promotion seems to
point to respectable antecedents, and it may be that his
father was one Cornelius Tacitus, who had been a pro-
curator in one of the divisions of Gaul, to whom allusion
is made by the elder Pliny in his Natural History (vii.
76). But It is all matter of pure conjecture, as it also is
whether his " prsenomen " was Publius or Cams. He bos
come down to us simply as Cornelius Tacitus. The most
interesting facts about him lo us are that he was an
eminent pleader at the Roman bar, that he was an eye-
witness of the "reign of terror" during the last three
years of Doniiiian, and that he was the sonin-law of the
great and good Julius Agricola, the humane and enlightened
governor of Britain This honourable connexion, which
testifies to his high moral character, may very possibly
have accelerated his promotion, which he says' was begun
by \'es(iasian, augmented by Titus, and still further ad-
vanced by Domitian, under whom we find him presiding
as praetor at the celebration of the secular games in 88,
and a member of one of the old priestly colleges, lo which
■good family was an almost indisjiensable passport. Next
year, it seems, he left Rome, and was absent till 93 on
some provincial business, and it is possible that in these
four years he may have made the acquaintance of Germany
and its peoples His fatherin law died the year of his
return to Rome In the concluding passage of his Life of
Aiinrola he tells us plainly that he witnessed ^he judicial
murders of many of Rome s bust citizens from 93 to 96,
and that being himself a senator he fell almost a guilty
complicTly in them "Our hands," he says, "dragged
llelvidius to prison , we were steeped in Senecio's innocent
blood "* With the emperor Nerva's acce.ssion his life be-
came bright and prosperous, and so it continued through
the reign of Nerva's successor, Trajan, he himself, in the
opening passage of his Agncola, describing this as a
" singularly blessed time " (bcatissimum s'eculum) ; but the
hideous reign of terror had stamped itself ineffaceably
on his soul, and when he sat down to write his History
he could see little but the darkest side of imperialism To
his friend the younger Pliny we are indebted for all we
know (and this is but trifling) about his later lif<» He
was advanced to the consulship in 97, in succession to a
highly distinguished man, 'Virginius Rufus, on whom lie
delivered in the senate a funeral eulogy "The good
fortune of Virginius, ' says Pliny,' " was crowned by
having the most eloquent of panegyrists " In 99 he was
associpted with Pliny in the prosecution of a great political
offender, Marius Priscus, under whom the provincials of
Africa had suffered grievous wrongs The prosecution was
successful, and we have I 'liny's testimony " that Tacitus
spoke with his characteristic dignity Both received a
special vote of thanks from the senate for their conduct of
the case. Of his remaining years we know nothing, and
we may presume that he devoted thera exclusively to
literary work. It would seem that he lived to the close of
Trajan's reign, as he seems' to hint at that emperor's ex-
tension of the empire by his successful Eastern campaigns
from 115 to 117 Whether he outlived Trajan is matter
of conjecture. It is worth noticing that the emperor
Tacitus in the 3d century claimed descent from him, and
directed that ten copies of his works should be made
every year and deposited in the public libraries He also
had a tomb built to his memory, which was destroyed by
order of Pope Pius V. in the latter part of the 16th cen-,
tury Tacitus, as we gather from one of Pliny's letters,'
' Hist,., i 1
« Epp., li. 11
Atj'ncola, 45
.\ nn. , ii.
eiiiv «
• Epp., u. 1
° Spp., Iz. 23.
20
TACITUS
had a great reputation during bis lifetime. On one
occasion a Koinan kniglit, wlio sat by his side in the circus
at the celebration of some games, aslted him, " Are you
from Italy or from the provinces?" His answer was,
■" You know mo from your reading." To which the knight
replied, " Are you then Tacitus or Pliny t "
Pliny, as we see clearly from several passages in his
letters, had the highest opinion of his friend's ability and
worth He consults him about a school which he thinks
of establishing at Comum (Como), his birthplace, and asks
biin to look out for suitable teachers and professors. And
he pays ' him the high compliment, " I know that your
Hutnrtes will be immortal, and this makes me the more
anxious that my name should appear in them."
The following is a list o( Tacitus's remaining works,
arranged in their probable chronological order, which may
be approximateh inlerred from internal evidence— (1)
the Di'il'j'ji" un Omtnrs. a.ho\i\ 7G or 77, (2) the Life
of Anrirolo, 97 or 98. (3l the Qermnny. 98. published
probably in 99 , (4) the HrM'<r,es {Ihstxrut). completed
probably by 115 or 116, the last years of Trajan s reigo
(he must have been at work on them for many years) ;
(5) the Annals, his latest work probably, written in part
perhaps along with the l/isi:n,s. and completed subse-
quently to Trajan's reign, which he may very well have
outlived.
The Dialoniu on Orators discusses, in Iho form of a conv<.r«tion
which Tantii3 professed to have l,,-a„l 'a? a vo.mg man. .ptv>-..n
some eminent men at the Roman ha- thp cauvrs of ihr .l«ay of
eloquem-e under the erapiK: Tl.rre are some lufresrinz remarks
in it on the change for the worse thai had taken place in the
education of Roman lails.
Tlic Life ofA<,r,cnla. sh..rt as it is. has always been consirtered
an admirable specimen of hmg.arl.v The great man with all his
grace an.l dignity is brought v,v„l,v before us. and il.e sketch we
haw of the hi'.tiry oi our island uu.ler the Romans gives a special
interest to this lutle work ,...,- „„ ti „
The Germany, the full title of which is Concerning the
geogranhv. the manners and customs, and the tnhesof f^'-nnany
Sesaibes'wilh many suggestive lunts the general rhar.ac,er of the
German peoples, and dwells parucularlv on thcr fierce and lude^
pendent spirit, which ibe author evidently fell o be a siaml . g
menace to the empire The geography is its weak point ; this was
no doubt gathered from vague hearsay , , , i„„„„i,,
The IlSlorus. as origmaUv composed in twelve books, brought
vlie history of the empire from Oalba m fi9 down to tie close of
Domitinn-s reign in 97 The first four books, and .a small fragment
of the fifth, giving us a very minute account of the even ful year
of revolutioiK 69. and the brief reigns of Calba. Otho, a,,. V iicllius |
are all that remain to us. In the fragment of tl«. fif.li h"ok we
have a curious and interesting account of the .lewish nation, of
their character, customs, and religion, from a cultivated Romans
point of view, which we see at once was a strongly prejudic-.l one
The Annals-^ title for which there is no ancient authority, and
which there is no reason for supposing Tacitus g^^, <i'^;'';:;''^,; ^
to the work-record tlie history of the emperors of the J"l>a" J'f
from Tiberius to Nero, comprising thus a period from '^ « /> J"
68 Of these, nine books have come dQwn to ns entire . ol books
V xi and xvi. we have but fragments, and the whole of he reign
of'Caius (Caligula), the first six years of Claudius, and the last three
years of Nero are wanting. Out of a period of fifty-tour years we
thus have the history of forty years. .. . ,k ^„„„;,
An attempt has been made recently to prove Iha, the ^W,
arc a forgery by Poggio Bracciolini. an Italian scholar of the l.'i h
ccntu y^u^t their 6°""iueness is confirmed by their agreement
i,° various minute details with coins and inscnptioDs discovered
since that period. Another important fact has ^"" J'^?'" 1°
light. Ruodolphus, a monk of a monastery at Fulda m Hesse
cLel, writing in the 9th century, says that C"^"^ '"Vyj''"/
speaks of the river known to moderns as the Wcser as t he \M urg s^
Id the An,mls as thev have come down to us wo find the Visurgis
mentioned five times in the first two books, whence we may coiv
elude that a manuscript of them was in existence in the 9th
century. Add to this the testimony of .leiome that Tacitus wrote
in thirty books the lives of the Ciesars. and the evidence of style.
and theie cannot be much doubt thai in the AnvnU we have a
genuine work of Tacitus. ____^
Epi>.. vii. 33. ,
» See Introduction to vol. i. of Furneaux's edition of the A7fa/s
OlTucitus. Clarendou Press Series. 188t
Much of the history of the period described by hini. especially
of the earlier Ca'sars. must have been obscure and locked up with
the emperor's private pap.rs and memoranda. As we should ex.
pert there w.as a vast amount of fioating gossip, which an historian
would have to sift and utilize as bust he might Tacitus, as a
man of "ood social position, no doubt had access to the best
informati°on. and must have talked matters over >Mth the most
eminent men of the day There were several writers and chron'
icleis whom he occasionally cites but not very oficn there were
memoirs of distinguished persons. -those, foi example of the
youiicer A<»rippina.ofThiasca. tnil Hclvi.lius. There were several
colleL"llons°of lell.-rs. like those of Ihe younger IMiny a number,
too, of funeral orations, and the --acta tcnatus" and the "acl»
populi " or " a.'ta diurna." the first a record oi proceedings in the
senate, the latter a kiud of gazelle or journal Thus there were
the materials lor history in considerable abundance, and lacilu»
was certainly a man who knew how to turn them to good account
Ik has given us a striking, and on Ihe whole doubtless a true,
picture of the eminrc in the 1st century. He wrote, it may be
admitted, with a political bias and a decided turn lor satire, but
he assuredly wrote with a high aim. and we may accept his own
account of ' it "I regard ^ it as history s highest function to
rescue merit from oblivion, and to hold up as a lerroi to base
words and actions the reprobation of posterity " Amid great evils
he recognized the existence of truly noble virtues e\an m his own
degenerate age Still for the most part he writes as a man who
felt deeply that the world was altogether "out of joint", the
empire was in itsdf .n his view a hufe blund-r. and answeratjlc
more or less diiectly lor all the diseases ol society, for all tli«
demoralization and .orruplitm of the creal world ol Rome, though
as to the iirovinces he admits that they were t^Uer olf in many
ways under the emperors than they bad b.-en in the last days of
the republic liul Ins political svmpathu^s were certainly with
the old ari.stocratic and scnalonan regime, wilh the Rome ol the
Scinios and the Fabii ; lor hini the greatness of his country lay m
the past. and. though he fell her to b. still great her glory "as.
he thon-lit. decidedly on the wane He «as. in fact, a political
idealist. "and cnul.l hardly help speaking disparagingly of his own
day In his Orrinnnn he dwells on the routiasi between barbarian
freedom and siinplicilv on the one hand and Ihe servilitv an.l
degenei-acv of Roman lite on the other Vet he had a strong and
siiiiere paiuotism. which invariably made him minimize a Koinan
defeat and the number of Roman slain There seems to have been
a strange tinge, loo. of supersution about liim. and he could not
divesl liimsell of some belief in asiiolngy and revelations of the
fulure throu-h omens and i.<.rienu. thoiii;h he held these were
often misunderstood niid misinieipreied by eharl.itans and im-
postors -On the whole he appears to have inclined to the philo-
sophical Iheoiyof ■•iiecessitarnnism," that every man » fulure is
fixed from his birth . but we must not fasten on him any particular
theory of the world or of the universe Sometimes he speaks as a be-
liever'in a divine nverruliii= I'rovidence. and we mav say confidently
that with the Epicurean dorinne he had no sort ol sympathy
His btvle whatever judgment mav be passed on it. is certainly
that of aman of genius and cannot l»il to make a deep impression
on the studious reader Tacitean brevity has become proverbial,
and with this are closelv allied an occasional obscurity and a rhetor-
ical alTertatiop which his warmest admirers must admit He has
been compared to Carlyle and there are certainly resemblances
between the two both ID stvle and tone of thought. Both affect
sin'-ularilv of expression both incline to an unhopeful and cynical
view ol the world Tacitus was probably ueve, a popular author;
to be understood and appreciated he must be read again and again,
or the point of some ol his aeuiesl remarks wdl be quite missed^
He ha,s been several time.s translated, but it has always been felt
that he presents very great, if not insuperable, difficulties to the
translator _ , ..
Miirnhv irnr..l.uen la puraptirwe we should «11 II) !• I'^''".''' ""'."' J^J
he. kS"w„ ,T w.. p„bn.l.p.l 'a-1. .n .he prewnl century "n Ihls wa. b^ed
the ,e called 0,..,rrt lr.n.ln.>..n, puMished bv B"l.n in .revised cdumn Th«
Llern .n.la.ine 1. ..at hv M-^.r, Chur, I, aed Ki-edril.b Theic .« en the whoU
L°L"d Vrrn h ..;n,la",ne h, Lmi.nd.- The e.llMoh, ol Tacl.u> are very num
Pto,,^ Amo.,11 moie ipcenl edluons.the best «nd moM iiselul are Orelh « (18.W1.
Rule, s *1SMK Nlppe. de, 'S (1879, . Ku,-neaai> s Mnna/,. 1 -vl.^ vol ' Claiende,
Press. 18.S4 ^
TACITUS, M Claudius, Roman emperor from Sep
lember 25. -270, to April 276. «'as a native of Interamna
(Terni) in Unibria, and was born about the year 200. In
the course of his long life he discharged the duties of
various civil offices, including that of consul in 2/3, with
univer.sal respect. Six months after the assassination of
Aurelian he was chosen by the senate to succeed him. and
the choice was cordially ratified by the army. During his
brief reign he set on foot some domestic .reforms, and
' Avn . ill. 65.
4nn., vi. 21, 22.
T A C - T A G
21"
«onght to revive the authority of the senate, bat, after
a victory over the Alani near the Palus Ma;otis, he
succumbed to the hardships and fatigues of his new
duties at Tj-ana in Cappadocia. Tacitus, besides being
a man of immense wealth (which he bequeathed to the
state), had considerable literary culture, and was proud to
claim descent from the historian, whose works he caused
to be transcribed at the public expense and placed in the
public libraries.
TACTICS. See War.
TADMOR. See PALimta.
TAFILELT, a large oasis in Morocco (see vol. xvi. p.
632). The principal place is Abuam.
TAGANROG, a seaport of southern Russia, on the
northern shore of the Sea of Azotf, in the government of
Ekaterinoslaff, and nearly 200 miles south-east of its chief
town It is built, principally of wood, on a low cape, and,
with its extensive store-houses, exchange, and wholesale
shops, has the aspect of an important commercial city._^ It
is well provided with educational Institutions for children,
«na uas a library and a theatre. The imperial palace, where
Alexander I. died in 182-5, and jhe Greek monastery
{under the patriarch of Jeru.salem) are worthy of notice.
The advantageous situation of Taganrog was well known as
•early as the 13th century, when Pisan merchants founded
there a colony, Portus Pisauus, which, however, was des-
tined soon to disappear during the great migrations of the
Mongols and Turks. An attempt to obtain posses.sion of
the promontory was made by Peter I , but it was not
definitely annexed by the Russians until seventy years
afterwards (1769). Its commercial importance dates from
the .second half of the present century , in 1870 its popu-
lation had risen to 38,000, and after it had been brought
into railway connexion with Kharkoff and Voronezh, and
thus with the fertile provinces of sorth and south-east
liHssia, the increase was still more rapid, the number
reaching 03,025 in 1882, —Greeks, Jews, Armenians, and
West- Europeans being important elements. Notwith-
standing the disadvantages of its open roadstead, the
foreign trade of Taganrog rapidly expanded, the annual
value of the exports having recently reached £2,-500,000
The chief article of export being com, the trade of the
«ity, depending on the crops in south Russia, is subject to
great fluctuations. Linseed afid other oil bearing grains
are also important articles of commerce, as well as tallow
•and butter The imports, which consist chiefly of fruits
(dried and fresh), wine, oil, and coffee, are much smaller
than the exports, and of the 989 ships (499,500 tons)
that entered the port in 1885 no fewer than 775 (446,500
tons) were in ballast. The coasting trade, chiefly with
Rostuff, was represented in the same year by 1321 vessels
{224,000 tons) entering and 1343 vessels clearing
The roadstead of Taganrog is very shallow, and exposed to winds
•winch cause great variations in the height of the water, it is. more
OVL-r. ni|.i.lly silting up. At the quay the depth of water is only B
to 9 li'Ct, nnci large ships have to lie 5 to 1.3 miles from the town
Taganrog, with the surrounding territory of 137,000 acres, having
a popiilitioii of nearly -30,000. living in a dozen villages, constitutes
a separate township, and, though reckoned to the Rostotf district
of Ekaterinoslatf. lias a separate governor and administration
TAGLIACOZZI, Gasparo (1546-1599), a surgeon of
wide repute, was born at Bologna in 1546, and studied at
that university under Cardan, taking his degree in philo
Sophy and medicine at the age of twenty-four He was
appointed professor of surgery and afterwards of anatomy,
and achieved notoriety at least, and the fame of a wonder
worker He died at Bologna on November 7, 1599.
His luincipal -work is entitled Dc Curlonm ChiruTgia per
IimilioncM L^hri Duo (Vmice, 1597, fol. ); it was reprinted in the
following year under the title of Chirurgia Nova de Narium,
Aurium, jMbiontmq^ie Dcfcctu per Insitiuncm Cutis ex Hmnero,
arte hactenm omnibtts ignota, sarcicndo (Frankfort, 1598, 8vo).
The latter title sufficiently indicates the art which he professed o(
repairing nose, eai's, and lips by a species of ingrafting of skin from
the arm, that member being kept in apposition with the part to b«
repaired until such time as the semi-detached graft had formed its
new vascular conuexions. His Latinized name of Tiiliacotius 13
well known to the readers of Butler (Budibras, i. 1), whose hum-
orous representation of the nature of the Taliacotian art is, how.
ever, in some important particulars inaccurate.
TAGLIONI, Marie (1809-1884), a ballet dancer, was
the daughter of Filippo Taglioni, an Italian master of the
ballet, and was born at Stockholm 23d April 1809 She
was trained by her father, who in his discipline is said to
have been pitilessly severe. It was to his care and her
own special talent for dancing that she owed her success,
for she possessed no remarkable personal attractions Her
first appearance was at Vienna, lOth June 1822, in a
ballet of which her father was the author. La Reception
d'une jeune nymphe a la cour de Terpsichore Her success
was immediate, and was repeated in the chief towns of
Germany. On 23d July 1827 she made her debut at the
Opera House, Paris, in the Ballet de Sicihen, and aroused
a furore of enthusiasm. Her style was entirely new, and
may be termed ideal as opposed to the realistic and vplup-
tuous ballet previously in vogue. Among her more remark-
able performances were the dancing of the Tyrolienne in
Guillaume Tell and of the pas de fascination \n Meyerbeer's
Robert le Diable. At this period the ballet was a much
more important feature in opera than it is now, and in
fact -ivith her retirement in 1845 the era of grand ballets
may be said to have closed. In 1832 she married Comte
Gilbert de Voisins, by whom she had two children Losing
her savings in speculation, she afterwards supported her
self in London as a teacher of deportment, especially in
connexion with the ceremony of presentation at court
During the last two years of her life she stayed wnth her
son at Marseilles, where she died la April 1884 Taglioni
IS frequently mentioned in the novels of Balzac , and
Thackeray, in The Newcomes, says that the young men of
that epoch " will never see anything so graceful as Taglioni
in La Sylphide."
TAGUS (Spfwi. Tojo, Portug. Tejo), the longest, river "of
the Iberian Peninsula. Its length is'566 miles, of which
192 are on or within the frontier of Portugal, and the area
of its basin, according to Strelbitsky, is 31,864 square
miles. The basin is comparatively narrow, and the Tagu.s,
like the other rivers of the fberian tableland, generally
flows in a rather confined valley, often at the bottc'in of
a rocky gorge at a considerable depth below the general
level of the adjacent country The source of the river
IS at the height of 5225 feet above sea-level, on the
western slope of the Muela de San Juan, in the south west
of the province of Teruel. Thence it flows at first north
westwards, but, after receiving the Rio Gallo on the right,
It Hows west, and then south west or westr-south- west,
which 18 its general direction for the rest of its course.
The rocky gorges which occur in its course (the principal
being where the river is overhung on the right bank by
the ancient city of Toledo, and again at the Puente del
Arzobispo, neai — the frontier of Estremadura) all belong
to the Spanish section of the river, and in this section
tb« stream is frequently encumbered by sandy shallows or
broken by rocky rapids, and is not navigable except for
short distances. The Portuguese section has a quieter
current, amd V^illavelha, the highest point to which boats
can ascend, lies within the Portuguese frontier Regular
river navigation begins only at Abrantes, a few miles below
which the Tagus is greatly widened by receiving on its right
bank the inrpetuous Zezere from the Serra da Estrelha,
Passing Santarem, the highest point to which the tide
ascends, and the limit of navigation for large sailing vessels
and steamers, the river divides below Salvaterrajnto two
22
T A H — T A H
aVms, called the Tejo Novo (the only one practicable for
ships) and the Mar de Pedro, and these arms enclose a
deltaic formation, a low tract of marshy alluvium known
as the Lezirias, traversed by several natural canals or minor
branches of the river. Both these arms enter 'the upper
end of the fine Bay of Lisbon (11| miles long by about 7
broad), and the Tagus leaves this bay in the form of a
channel 4J miles long by 2 wide (see vol. xiv. p. 692),
communicating with the ocean, but having unfortunately
a bar at its mouth. On the north side of this channel
stands the city of Lisbon. Only slight traces are still to
be found of the gold for which the sands of the Tagus
were anciently celebrated.
The narrower part of the Tagus basin lying to the
south, the tributaries on the left bank are almost all mere
brooks, most of which dry up in summer. The principal
exception is the Rio Zatas or Sorraya, whicli, rising in
the Serra d'Ossa, flows westwards across the plateau of
Alemtejo, and joins the Mar de Pedro. The principal
tributaries on the right bank, besides the Zezere, are the
Jarama, descending from the tableland of New Castile a
little below Aranjuez, the Alberche and the Tietar, which
collect their head waters from opposite sides of the Sierra
de Gredos, and the Alagon, from the rough and broken
country between the Sierras ds Gredos and Gata.
See vol. TAHITI ARCHIPELAGO The eastern Polynesian
^^- island-group generally known as the Society Islands (Isles
lit** '^" ''^ Societe, or Taili) lies between 16° and 18° S. lat.
and 148° and 155° W, long., and stretches for nearly 200
miles in a north-west and south-east direction ; the total
area does not e.xceed 650 square mile.s, of which 600 fall to
Tahiti alone. To the east and north-east a channel of only
140 miles in breadth, but over 2000 fathoms in depth,
separates this group from the great chain of the Low Islands,
beyond-which the ocean extends unbroken to America. To
the west as far as Fiji — the main islands of which group lie
between the same degrees of latitude as those of Tahiti —
there are 1 500 miles of open water. About 300 miles south-
west lies Cook's Archipelago, and at the sscme distance south
are the Austral Islands. To the north, excepting a few
coral banks, there is open sea to Hawaii, a distance of
2600 miles.
Tahiti occupies a central position in the Pacific. Sydney
lies about 3400 miles to the west and San Francisco about
as far to the northnorth-east. Honolulu, 'Noumea; and
Auckland are each somewhere about 2400 miles away ;
Panama is at a distance of 4600 miles.
The archipelago consists of eleven islands, which are
divided into two clusters — the Leeward and the Wind-
ward Islands — by a clear channel of 60 miles in breadth.
The Leeward I.slands, to which alone the name of Society
Islands was given by Cook, are Tubal or Motu-iti, a small
uninhabited lagoon island, the most northern of the whole
archipelago , Maupiti or Mau-rua — " Double Mountain,"
the most western ; Bora-bora (Bola-Bola of the older
navigators), or Fdarui ; Tahaa ; Raiatea or Ulietea (Boen-
sliea's Princessa), the largest island of this cluster, and
Huahine, which approach each other very closely, and are
encircled by one reef. To the Windward Island.s, the
Georgian Islands of the early missionaries, belong Maiaiti
or Tapamanu (Wallis's Sir Charles Saunders Island and
Coensiiea's ''^lada) ; Morea or Eimeo (Wallis's Duke of
York Is)' I. and Bocnshea's San Domingo); Taliiti — Cook's
OtalieitI v|)robably Quiros's Sagittaria ; Wallis's King
George's Island, Bougainville's Nouvelle Cythere, and
Boenshea'a Isla d'Aniat), the most southern and by far
the largest of all the islands ; Tetuara or Tetiaroa— " The
Distant Sea" (? Quiros's Fugitiva ; Bougainville's Umaitia
and Bocnshea's 'Tres Hernianos) ; and Matia or Maitea
(J Quiros's La Dezana. Wallia's Osnaburg Island, Boug?"n-
ville's Boudoir- and Pic de la Boudeuse, and Boeushea's
San Cristoval), which is by a degree the most eastern of the
archipelago. Bellinghausen, Scilly, and Lord Howe (Mopia)
are three insignificant clusters of coral islets to the north-
west and west, and, like Tubal and Tetilara, are atolls.
The length of the Tetuara reef ring is about six milfls ; it
bears ten palm-covered islets, of which several are in
habited, and has one narrow boat-passage leading into the
lagoon. With the exception just named, the islands, which
agree very closely in geological structure, are mountainous,
•and present perhaps the most wonderful example of
volcanic rocks- to be found on the globe. They are formed
of trachyte, dolerite, and basalt. There are raised cora'
beds high up the mountains, and leva occurs in a variety
of forms, even in solid tiows ; but all active volcanic
agency has so long ceased that the craters have been
almost entirely obliterated by denudation. Hot springs
are unknown, and earthquakes are slight and rare.
Nevertheless, under some of these flows remains of plants
and insects of species now living in the islands have been
found, — a proof that the formation as well as the denuda-
tion of the country is, geologically speaking, recent. la
profile the islands are rugged. A high mountain, usually
with very steep peaks, forms the centre, if not the whole
island ; on all sides steep ridges descend to the sea, or,
as is oftener the case, to a considerable belt of flat land.
These mountains, excepting some stony crags and cliflTs,
are clothed with dense forest, the soil being exceptionally
fertile. All voyagers agree that for varied beauty of form
and colour the Society Islands are unsurpassed in the
Pacific Innumerable rills, fed by the fleeting cloud*
which circle round the high lands, gather in-lovely streams,
and, after heavy rains, torrents precipitate themselves in
grand cascades from the- mountain cliffs — a feature 6»
striking as to have attracted the attention of all voyagers,
from Wallis downwards. Round most of the islands there
is a luxuriant coral growth ; but, as the reefs lie at no
great distance, and follow the line of the coast, the inter-
island channels are safer than those of the neighbouring
Tuamotus, which exhibit the atoll formation in -perhaps
its fullest development, and in consequence have been
jiistly called the ' Low " or " Dangerous Archipelago."
Maitea, which rises from the sea as an exceedingly abrupt
cone, and Tapamanu appear to be the only islands which
have not their fringing and more or less completely
encircl'mg barrier-reefs.'* The coasts are fairly indented,
and, protected by these reefs, which often support a chain
of green islets, afford many good harbours and safe
anchorages. In this respect the Society Islands hava
the advantage of most of the Polynesian groups.
The island of Tahiti, in shape not unlike the figure 8, has
a total length of 35 miles, a coast line of 120, and a super-
ficial area of 600 square miles. It is divided into two
distinct portions by a short isthmus (Isthmus de Taravao)
less than a mile iq width, and nowhere more than 50 feet-
above sea-level. The southern, the peninsula of Tairabu,
or Tahiti-iti (Little Tahiti), alone as large as Raiatea
(after Tahiti the most important island of the group),
measures 12 miles in length by 6 miles in breadth ; while
the northern, the circular main island of Porionuu, or
Tahiti-uni (Great Tahiti), has a length of 23 miles and a
width of 20. The whole island is mountainous. A little
to the north-west of the centre of Great Tahiti the Society
Islands attain their greatest altitude. There the double-
peaked Orohena rises to 7340 feet, and Aorai, its rival,
is only a few hundred feet lower. Little Tahiti cannot
boast of such mountains, but its tower-like peaks are very
striking. The flat land of the Tahitian coast, extending
to a width of several miles — with its chain of villages, it*
' DaiwiD, SCniclure o/Coral Ree/a, London, 1842.
TAHITI
23
lertile gardens, and its belt of palms, sometimes intersected
by stream-fed valleys which open on the sea-shore — tonns
a most pleasing foreground to the grand amphitheatre-like
mountain ranges. A good road surrounds the entire
island, which is divided into eighteen districts, each under
a chief and a municipal councii of which he is president
A railroad is in contemplation By the last census the
population of the entire island was 9194, one-eighth being
French and foreigners The majority of the natives pro
fess the Protestant religion '
The extreme north ot the island is formed by Point Venus, to
the east of which lies the Bay of Matavai, and some miles still
farther east Papeete, the European town and the scat of govern
ment The beautiful harbour, of fair si/o and depth, is entered by
iwo ^issages in the reef, Papeete to the north, 7 fathoms lu depth,
• nd Taunos to the east, the wider and more convenient, though
.Jiallower The town, in 1881, had a population of ,1224. half of
whom were French or French half-castes, but at least a dozen
different nations were represented by the 800 whites. The little
city IS decidedly French in ohar-acter " Papeete is the emporium
of trade for the products of the South Sea Islands east of 160° F»
long. Small schooners of from 20 to 50 tons burden bring the
Sroduc^ of the various groups to Tahiti, whence they are shipped
irect for Europe, either by Cape Horn or the Cape of Good Hope,
according to the sea.son of the yp.ar These schooners, of which
ab«nt twenty fly the Tahitian flag, take back portions of the
cargoes of vessels arriving from Europe for sale oi barter amongst
the islands. The chief exports are cocoa-outs, mother-of pearl,
cotton, and some sugar mainly to England and Germany, very
little to Fi-ance , and oranges, trepang (for China), and edihte
fungus to California."' Many whalers formerly visited Papeete
harbour, but foi some years there has been a steady dimuiution
in their number In 184.') forty eight called there, m 1860 five,
and none in 1874. Conmierce has also in olhei respects decreased
Three sugar-mills with distilleries attaithed, two cotton manu
factories, and a ■lanufactory ol cocoa-nut fibie were at »vork in
1886. Oranges and vanilla are profit.ably growiL The timber of
the country is hardly used, great quantities of Califoniian pine
being imported. Oxen and hogs are reared. The artifit'ial cultuie
of the pearl oyster is beginning to be discussed, but the peails of
the Society Islands are not to be compared in numberor quality
to those of the Tiiamotus. A good deal of rr.ading in fruit, fibre,
shell, ic. , is carried on with the natives, but still mainly by baitei
The competition of the Chinese immigi-ants, of whom in 1866 tlieie
were already 400 on Tahiti and Einieo, is beginning to he keenly
felt The importation of " laboni." chiefly fru the pluriLar ions, from
othei Polynesian islands was placed under Government control in
1862. The Tahitians themselves prelei handicrafts to agricultural
work, and many are employed as arlisans by Euiopean niastt-i-s
who find them as handy and industrious as then own eouriirynicu,
but for domestic service they show no aptitude Papeete is in
direct sailmg communication with San Francisco, and with Syilnty
by a Goverrunent steamei which calls every five months, also with
France by Bordeaux steamers which touch on their way ro
Noumea. "
ChmaJt —The seasons are not well defined. Damp is exce.ssive
there is little variation in the weather, which, though hot, is never
theless not depressing, an'i the climate foi the tropics must be
considered remarkably healthy The rainfall is largest between
December and April, but there is su niucb at othei times ol the
fwii also chat these moiiths hardly deserve the name of the rainy
•easori During this period north west winds are frequent, con
tiiitiing at limes foi weeks and there are thunderstorrus am!
hiir-ticanes. though they are not nearly .so destructive as m some
of the neighbouring islands liuring the eight driei and co<ilei
ninnths south-east wiud^ (corresponding with the trades) prevail,
hut i.liert- are southerly winds which bring ram. and even westerly
'•■-•^/.es are not iiufiequent The mean temperature foi the yeai
1 /'■ F . maximum 84° minimum 6a' The average rainfall
'■■.111 Dficembei to March (4 months) is 29 inches, from April to
Kov .rubei (8 months), 19 inches The abovn observations applv
<o the coast only
Fauna — Neithei the zoology noi the bou-iny of the archipelago
bas been thoroughly investigated Mammalians, as in othei Poly
oesian islands, are restricted to a few species of bats (mostly of
the genus Pteropus), rats, and- mice, none of them peculiar Of
domestic animals, the pig and the dog— the foimer a small breeii
which quickly disappeared before the stronget European strains-
were plentiful even in Wallis's days. The ornithology is very
pool as compared with that of the Westeni Pacific, and, in marked
' The best chart of Tahiti is that publiihed by the French Govenunpntln 1876
aod corrected down to 1881. Morea is givca on the eame sbeei
' Wallace, Auitralatia, Londoo, 18S4.. *
• For fuller itatlstlca, lee Notices Cotoniatta^ Pans, 1886, vol u
contrast to the Isolated Hawaiian archipelago, the Society Islands
possess no peculiar genera and but few peculiar species Tlicy
claim, however, a thrush, several small parrots of great beauty,
doves, pigeons, rails, and a sandpiper Of this sandpiiier, Tringa
Uucopfera. w-hich, with many of the birds here mentioned, was di.^
covered as far back as Cook's st.iy in the islands, only one specirocD
(now in the Lej'den museum) is known to exist, and of the rest,
their range being often limited to one portion of a small island,
several species are (through the increase in the number of cats,
&c. ) threatened with extermination A jungle. fowl (var of Galhit
bnnktva) is found in the mountains, but as domesticated fowls weio
abundant, even when Tahiti w-as first discovered by Europeans,
these wild birds are doubtless the oflTspnng of tame birds, probab'y
ini[iorted with the pigs and dogs by Malay vessels. There are
no peculiar reptiles, and fiatrachians are entirely wanting The
lagoons swarm with fish of many species. Insects are poor in
species, though some of thein are indigenous. Crustaceans and
nu)llusi;s, on the other hand, are well represented , worms, echino-
derms, and corals comparatively poorly A noteworthy feature of
Tahitian conchology is the number of peculiar sjjecies belonging to
the genus Parlula, almost every valley being the habitat of a dis-
tinct forut
f'/oAa. — This, though luxunant, is not very rich. Like the /oology,
It IS much poorei than that of the more western groups of the Pacific
MelroxaUros, MelasUmm, and Acacia arc the only links which this
typically Polynesian region bas retained to join it to Australia
Four genera are peculiar, of which three are cl.aimed by the t'tmi-
poHitiv. and Lobflwccx, orders characteristic oi Hawaii. It is rich
in trees, sliruhs, and hardwood planls, ]ioor in the smaller under-
growth Orchids, including some beautiful species, and ferns are
abundant , but, here as in Polynesia generally, Rttbiaceas is the
order best represented Remarkable are the banana thickets, which,
chiefly on Tahiti, grow at an altitude of from 3000 to 5000 feet.
Ahing the shore — m some places almost to the extinction of all
native growth — many exotics have established themselves , iind a
great variety ol fruit-bearing and other useful trees have been
successfully introduced into most of the islands.'
Inlwhilants. —The Tahitians are a typical Polynesian race, closely
connected physically with the Marqucsans and Rarotongans, but
widely divided from them in many of their customs The dialects,
also, of the three groups are difleient, the Tahitian being perhaps
the softest in all Oceania. The women rank with the most beauti
fill of the Pacific, though the accounts given of them by eai-ly
voyagers are much exaggerated , and for general symmetry of form
the people are unsurpassed by any race in the world. Even now
in Its decadence, after generations of drunkenness and Eurojieau
disease and vice, grafted on inborn indolence and licentiousness,
many tall and robust people (6 feet and even upwards in height)
are to be found The women, as a rule, are small in proportion to
the men. Men and women of good birth can generally be dis-
tinguished by their height and fairness, and often, even in early
age, by their enormous corpulence The skin varies from a very
light olive to a full dark brown. The wavy oi curly hair and the
expressive eyes art black, or nearly so , the mouth is large, but
well-shaped and set with beautiful teeth , the nosi; broad (formerly
flattened In infancy by artificial means) . and the chin well
developed So long as the native costume was retained, the tiputa,
an oblong piece of bark cloth with a hole in its centre for the
head, and the pai-u,, a plain piece of cloth rourtd the loins, weit
worn alike by men and women of the highci classes Men of all
ranl<s wore, with oi without these, the man, oi T bandage The
women concealed their breasts except in the company of thei»
.superiors, when etiquette demanded that inferiors of both sexes
should uncover the uppei part of the body The chiefs wore short
fealhei cloaks, not unlike those of the Hawaiians, and beautiful
sennciiculai breastplates, dexterously interwoven with the hlacli
plumage of the frigate bird, with crimson feathers, and with sharks
teeth . also most elaborate special presses as a sign ot niourning
The priests had strange cylindrical hats, made of wicker work and
ovei a yard in height Circumcision, and in both sexes tattooing,
were generally practised, and much significance wasattached to some
of the marks. The houses (tiare) were long, low, and open at ths
sides. Household utensils were few — plain round wooden dishes,
sometimes on legs, cocoa.nut shells, baskets, &c Low stools and
bead -rests were used Pottery being unknown, all food was baked
in the " n.ative oven " or roasted ovei the fire Theii chief musical
instruments were the nose-flute {vivo) — often used as the accompani-
merit of .song— and the drum [jxihu) Of the latter, tho.se kept m
the ntnrai were huge elaborately carved hollow cylinders of wood,
the uppei end of which was covered with sharks' skin Conch-
.shells (6«) were also used Tahitian stone adzes, which are greatly
inlerioi in finish to those of the Hervey Islands, arf, the adzes
of eastern Polynesia m general, distinguished from tbos^of western
Polynesia by then triangular section and adaptation to a socket
• FiDsch and HaiilBub. Fauna Centrat-Puiynetiem, Hallt, 1867
• ll« Castillo, lUuitrattonu Ftoroi Jmtilarmm Mant I'acxfici, Paris, 188ft
24
TAHITI
Slings were perhaps *e favourite -^^^^^^^ J^^j *^I 1
had also plam spears "X .f SfJe b^^n " '-^d i" '="'^'° «>-«™°"'^l
may possibly be^^^'^^'^t^d fmit the taro-rootf the yam, the
so ford as to s>icMe "'oi U favourite dish made of bananas
th.nr O"" 'l^f 'f^.a^S^vtich was prepared in the usual Poly
resia'n^ranne'r. ,^ardri"nk?but in mode?ateVant.ties and only by
which included only the -suzerain [mirai), who bo e a semi sacrea
I weU as rpoUtical character, and the reigning chiefs of districts
?01 the 6« 'oatira, proprietor and cultivators of inherited land,
land and with it certain privileges. Ilank '^ h"ediU y auQ oe
powefof to v=isals, the district chiefs [raatirasl -lio ruled
hit was alone responsible for any act. The bi-insular lorm o
Tahit pronioted the independence of tlie chiefs, and war was rare.y
declared or an army or fleet despatched witnout the raaliras being
fi?^ summoned to council. Without their favour nothing could be
nrsi sumii ojieu. people was absolute.
T^e^otofgovemm^nvartlm" strictly feudal L character, but
it araduallY fentralized into a monarchy, which in the person of
Pon are 1 1, the English missionaries greatly helped to regula e
Ld strengthen. The arirai sent his commands by a mes|^nge
Za) whose credentials were a tuft of cocoa-nut film. 1''"' "; '
l^'returned intact as a sign of assent or torn >».f ^en of refus.a
After the chief the wife ranked first, and then his biother. 1 he
^fa wa^ carried on the shouldeis of his subjects, and chiefs we e
rTot allowed to feed themselves. Women always ate apart. 1 heir
Xce orworship (™zr«)-national, local, or private-were square
I ce su? ounded^enclosuris. They each had a single entrance and
conUined several small courts, within ^''.ch were houses for the
images and attendant priests. A pyramidal stone st'uct"/^' "^
whifh weie the actual altars, stood at the further end of the squaje^
The mr.a\s were also used as places of sepulture of chiefs, whose
I^baTmed bodies, after being exposed for a ^'nie. were buned ,n a
crouchin" position. Their .skulls, however, were kept m tl c houses
"fthir nearest relations. In the great mara, ■'tAtahuratlie stone
structure was 270 feet long. 94 feet wide, and 50 feet high, ana lU
nini? of this centurv. Oro was the most venerated. Xlie images,
Srhfch are less remarkable than those of Hawaii, were rough repre_
rnUtionsof the human form carved in wood. Some were covered
.rom head to foot with small human figures cut in "-"''f ■ °'°"!
were mere sticks clothed with feathers The arcm s. >'^""'°"^
association of strolling players men and ^°'"^"'.^^J^J"^}'ZZ
among its ranks the highest chiefs, and practised mfanticide. was
a special feature of Tahitian society.
£ Tahitians are Ught-hearted, frivolous, courteous, and genei
.1 The masenia of the I«..aoa Missionary Sodel, *"" "<» Brlfl.h Ma»um con
■la tminrtaiit coUectloM nl TnhlUan lro»K6», dressM. Wl^»l»n^ 4c
oas: but -with these traits are blended deceit irntabJity and
craelty; which formerly reached an unexampled degree of savage
bVitS y Their notions of morality were never, according to our
ideTv Jn precise ; and their customs, such as the ta,jo, or exchange
of n^'me wifh the rights which it carried over the wife of the giver
0 thTname and all her female relations, seemed to th^ eariier
European observer strangely revolting. It r»."'d app^^/' b°;;^™;'
that with the introduction of the vices of cmTization such limita-
tions as theb primitive morality recognized have disappeared and
all seK.respecl has been lost Especially characteristic were the
e aborateTstume-dances {hcims) performed by women Beside
dancTn" the siiK'in- of £ongs {pehe), and the recitation of historical
and mfthkil b^ lads (ul.4 the natives had also a variety of sports
and ^mes During the periodica! seasons of rejoicing wTestling
:l^rboxing(>i/.), an'd sp^ar-throwing ivcro |«^-)^-f^^b^ ;
with foot and Sanoe.races. were held; also sham fights and naval
reviews Thev had several games in which a ball was used,-one
aZ not uBlikc our bandy,%hile another, ''/^^'^ (Pl^y-^*^ chieny
by women), was a kind of football-, but smf-svammin| (>c^)
was nerhaps the most favourite sport with both sexes. Kites were
kTown Sick fighting ^/aatitoraamoa) was much practised. .
Zcov^y^E^ploloiion.-TheTe is little doubt tha the mai.
islfnTand^ome other members of t^e group were visited by the
S ,amard Pedro Fernandez de Quiros in February lb07. They were
Spaniara reaiu ' '•'" Wnllis in the " Dolphin, who took
iliiiiSlii
his most inaccurate chart Almost all we know of *?« ^ar.y siaw
o the islands is. however, due to Captain Cook s visits in 1,69
f77t 1 74 and IVl. The name of Society 'slands -as given to the
Leeward group on his first voyage in honour of the K°yal Society
In 1774 Tahiti wis also visited by two Spanish vessels wh eh left
that ship after the famous mutiny. At this time .™« Jf ^'^'°6^n>"
:r^u\i::n^Wv:ly'-'Cati.^-!a^^
"'^^^S:: -^r^tempt o. the Spamards in im wa, follow^
bythese,t,eme,,,on.entyfivepe™^^^^^^^^^^^
Iwertm'lSO ) ti?ey had many diificulties, especially from the
i':n\Vnl\rs 'and /r '^l^b 'he^ fled with PomareU to E.^^^^
Cri^^S^^hSe^r S.l^^LdMsp.wer.n
Tahiti For a time the missionaries made good progress, a pnni
lahiii. 'O"^* ,,:,„, ,18,71 and cofl'ee cotton, and sugar were
T A I — T A L
25
Tahiti, indudiug Eimeo, was proc1ai::.c(? a French colony. It is
the residence of the ^overnoB-general' of the French dependencies
in the Pacific.
Itierai are,— The following list Includes thd books which aeem moat to de-
»ci^e mention: Hftwkesworth s Voi/agei. especially Wallis's Voyage, H.M.S.
"Dolphm." in vol. t,. London, 1773; Cock's Three Voyages, wlih Forster's account
Cf ihe second *ovage ; Freycinet, V'o'joge de la Coquille. and L«&son"8 account
of the 5.>me vova'ge, Paris. IS39 ; Bennett, ^fialtng Voyage, LondoD. 1840. For
inanners and customs of t(ie natives, see Cook. Duff. Ellis. For modern statistics,
•ee De>graz, La Tahiti. Pails. 1^6; AViicw Colontates. Paris 18S6, vol. 11. For
the early hislor>- of the islands, see Ellis, Polyriesian Researthex, London. 1829 ;
Vincendon Dumoulm and Dtrs^rat, lies Taut. Psiit, IS44. For mission history,
see Voyage of the Duff. London. 1799,. Ellis ; Williams, Musionary Enterprise in
the South Sea Islands, London. 1S39. For the French occupation, see Moerenhout,
Voyage aux /lesdu Grand Oceari, Paris. 1837 ; Vincendon- Dumouliu and Desgrat;
Pritchard, Polynesian Reminisctncfs, London, 1866. (A. v. H.)
TAIWAN. See Formosa.
TAJAK, Tajik, or Tausik, a term originally occurring in
the Pahlavi writings, and explained to mean, first, the Arabs
in general, then their descendants born in Persia and else-
where out of Arabia, and, lastly, the Persians in general and
their descendants born in Turkestdn and elsewhere out of
Persia. Tajak has thus come to be the collective name
of all communities of Iranian stock and Persian speech,
wherever found in Central Asia. These are co-extensive
with the former eastward and northward limits of the
Persian empire ; but, since the ascendency of the Tflrki
races, they have become the subject element in Turkest4n,
AfghdnistAn, Bokhara, Khiva, Kashgaria, while still politi-
cally dominant in Badakhshin, Wakhin, Darwiz, Kost,
and Karat^ghin. In most of these places the Tajaks, with
the kindred Galchas, seem to form the bulk of the popula-
tion, the distinction being that Tajak is applied rather to
the settled and more civilized lowlanders of modern Persian
speech, Galcha to the ruder highlanders of FerghAna,
KohistAD, WakhAn, itc, who speak either archaic forms of
Persian or dialects intermediate between the Iranian and
Sanskritic (Indian) branches of the Aryan linguistic family.
The Tajaks are thus a settled Iranian people,' agriculturists
in the country, traders and artisans in the towns, and are
essentially "ParsivAn," that is, men of Persian speech, — this
term, however, being more specially applied to those of
AfghAnistAn. But, although mainly of Iranian stock, with
light complexion and regular features, the Tajaks claim
Arab descent, regarding the district about BaghdAd as their
primeval home, and considering themselves the descendants
of the Arabs who overran Central Asia in the first century
of the Flight. At the same time, " it is evident that the
inhabitants of the greater part of this region (Central Asia)
must from an early period have come in contact with the
successive waves of Turkish (TOrki) and even Mongol
population which broke over them ; accordingly we find
that, although the tj'pe is essentially Iranian, it has under-
gone a certain modification, . . . face, though obviously
Persian, is more oblong than that of the Turk, more or less
heavy cheeks, thick nose, large mouth, wide forehead, . . .
middle height, powerful frame, and broad shoulders, . .*.
dark hair, but among the Galchas a few fair people are
found " (Capt. J. M. Trotter, Bokhara, p. 1 69). The term
Tajak must also be distinguished from Sarte, the latter
simply meaning "trader" or "shopkeeper," and being
applied indiscriminately to the settled as opposed to the
nomad element, and especially to the urban populations, of
whatever race, in Central Asia.' The Tajaks are knowti as
Tats on the west side of the Caspian (Baku, Lenkoran, &c.).
TAKA. See Nubia.
TALAVERA de ia Reina, a town of Spain, in the
* "Quand un Usbeg est devenu completement s^entairc , . . il
devient SarU ; le mot Sarte n'est done pas nne appellation ethnique"
(Charles de Ujfalvy in Bui. Soc. Ofogr., June 1878). But the Tajaks,
biiing always settled, were the fiist to be known as Sartes ; whence the
still preTalent erroneous impression that the word had a racial meaQ'
ing, implying an Iranian as opposed to a Tilrki element. Neverthe-
less there is a certain local etiquette observed in the use of the two
words Tajak and SarU^ embodied in the popular saying; "When a
stranger presents himself and eats your bread, call him a Tajak ; when
he ia gone you may call him a Sarle. "
I province of Toledo, is situated on the riglit bank of the
Tagvs, and on the railway from Madrid to Caceres, some
40 miles below Toledo and 64 miles south-east from Madrid.
It was formerly surrounded by a triple circumvallation,
portions of which still remain. It has no buildings of
special interest, and its commerce and manufactures are
inconsiderable. The population within the municipal
limits in 1877 was 10,029.
Talaverais the birthplace (1536) of Mariana the historian. Well-
ington overcame a superior French force here on July 27-28, 1809.
TALBOT, Family of. Apart from its achievements,
this is one of the few families in the English aristocracy
which traces alike its descent and its surname from the
Norman conquerors of England ; and it may really be said
that there has hardly been a time during the last eight
hundred years in which the Talbots have not been of con-
siderable account in public life. Yet in some periods they
appear rather as a potential influence, while at certain
marked epochs they stand out among the most prominent
actors in English history. The name of Richard Talbot
occurs in Domesday Book as the bolder of nine hides of
land in Bedfordshire under Walter Giffard, earl of Buck-
ingham. There is no evidence that he came over to Eng-
land with the Conqueror himself ; and, as he did not hold
of the king in capile, it is clear that he was not a leader.
His son Geoffrey Talbot took part with the empress Maud
against King Stephen. But apparently it was another son
Hugh who continued the line ; of whom it is recorded that
he held the castle of Plessi against Henry I. for Hugh de
Gournay, and afterwards became a monk at Beaubec in
Normandy. His son Richard obtained from Henry II. the
lordship of Linton in Herefordshire, and from Richard I.
the custody of Ludlow castle ; and his descendants for
some generations appear to have been wardens of various
castles on the borders of Wales. L'nder Edward II. a
Gilbert Talbot was head of the house, and invaded Scot-
land in the king's company, but afterwards took part with
Thomas of Lancaster against the king. He, however, was
pardoned, and obtained from Edward III. a confirmation
of tEe grant of the manor of Linton and other lands to
himself and his. heirs.
His son Richard, who had married a daughter of John
Comyn of Badenoch, laid claim to certain lands in Scot-
land in her right, and, when restrained from entering that
country by land (Edward II L having then made an alliance
with King David), he joined in a successful expedition
which invaded it by sea in the interests of Edward Baliol.
Three years later he was taken prisoner in Scotland, and
redeemed for 2000 marks, after which the king made him
governor of Berwick. He took part also in Edward's
wars against France, as did likewise his son Gilbert, who
succeeded him. At this time the family possessed lands
in the counties of Oxford, Gloucester, Hereford, and Kent,
and a little later in Berkshire, Wilts, Salop, and Essex.
Another Gilbert Talbot, grandson of the last, claimed to
carry the great spurs at the coronation of Henry V., and
had a commission to receive the submission of Owen
Glendower and his adherents. He also distinguished
himself in the invasion of Normandy. He was twice
married, his second wife being a Portuguese lady, but he
left no male issue, and was succeeded by his brother John,
the special hero of the family
Hitherto the head of the house had borne the name of
Lord Talbot ; but this John, after obtaining by marriage
the title of Lord Furnivall, was for his distinguished
actions created earl of Shrewsbury.. ' He made his name so
terrible in France that for several generations afterwards
French mothers used to threaten refractory children that
the Talbots would come if they were not quiet (Brown's
.i Venetian Calendar, ii. 75). He rescued Maine from the
XXIIl. — 4
26
TALBOT
French and took Pontoiso ; but his own capture by
the Maid of Orleans was what probably discouraged the
English most of all in their disasters beyond sea. He was
exchanged for an eminent French prisoner and a heavy
ransom besides. He served also several times as lieutenant
of Ireland, and in 144'> was created earl of VVe.xford and
of Waterford, in addition to the title of Shrewsbury, which
had been conferred upon him in 1442 He died in 1453,
in an unsuccessful expedition for the recovery of Guienne,
which had lately submitted to the French His son John,
Viscount Lisle, was slain along with him in the same fatal
battle.
But, besides Ins uiartial exploits which live in history,
this John claims some attention for his family alliances.
His first wife Maud, a granddaughter of Thomas, Lord
Furnivall, brought him the castle 'of Sheffield as part of
her inheritance, and he was accordingly summoned to
parliament in the days of Henry IV as John Talbot of
Hallamshire, otherwise Lord Furnivall, more than thirty
years before he was made earl of Shrewsbury- The
property remained in the hands of his descendants, and
became a favourite residence of the family during the
whole of the Tudor era , and, but for the death in 1616 of
Gilbert, seventh earl of Shrewsbury, without male issue, it
has been remarked by Hunter that Sheffield migh"; have
remained much longer a centre of feudal magnificence
rather than of commerce and manufactures The second
wife of John, earl of Shrewsbury, was Margaret, the eldest
of three daughters of Richard Beauchamp, earl of War-
wick, by his second wife, a daughter of Thomas, Lord
Berkeley. By her he obtained a third part of the Berkeley
property ; and, though she did not become the mother of
a hue of earls, her elilest son, John Talbot, was created
Viscount Lisle, and it was he who fell along with his
father at the disastrous battle of Chatillon in Gascony.
His son Thomas, who inherited the title of Viscount Lisle,
WHS also slain at the early age of twenty-two in a feudal
contest with Lord Berkeley, arising out of a dispute as to
the possession of Berkeley castle, at Nibley Green, near
Wotlun under-Edge, March 20, 1470, and the title was
allerwards conferred on Edward Grey, the husband ol one
ol his two sisters.
John, the second earl of Shrewsbury, was the first earl's
son by his first wife He had been knighted at Leicester
in I I'jb along with the infant king Henry VI, had served
in the wars of France, and been made chancellor of Ireland
dunijg his father s lifetime, when he was only Lord Talbot
Allerwards he was made lord high treasurer of England,
and III 1409 was rewarded for his services to the house of
Lancaster v\'ith a grant of 100 marks a year out of the
hnilsliip of Wakefield, forfeited by Richard, duke of York
But ne\t year he and his brother Christopher were slain
at the battle of Northampton, fighting in the cause of
Henry VI. His son John succeeded him, and then his
griind-wn George, who fought for Henry VII at Stoke,
and whom King Henry VIIL sent as his lieutenant
against the rebels in that most formidable insurrection,
the Pilgrimage of Grace. But perhaps the thing which
most redounds to his credit is the humanity with which
(as related by Cavendish) he received the fallen Cardinal
Wolsiy into his house at Sheffield when he was on his way
up ti' London as a state prisonei. and endeavoured to
remove those gloomy anticipations of his fate which in
fact lirought on his Last illness.
Francis, the fifth carl, took a leading part in the
inv.asions of Scotland under Henry VIII and Edward
VI., and w.as one of the two peers who alone opposed the
bill for abolishing the pope's jurisdiction under Elizabeth
His son George, who succeeded, was the earl to whom the
custo^' of ^'arv Stuart was committed, his delicate and
onerous task being rendered all the more difficult for him
by the intrigues of his bold, ambitious second wife, Bess of
Hardwick, the builder of Chatsworth, who had married
three husbands before her union with him. Two sons of
this last rarl succeedeil one another, and the title then
devolved, for want of male issue, on the lineal descendants
of Sir Gilbert Talbot of Grafton in Worcestershire, third
son of .lohn, the second earl This Sir Gilbert had fought
for Henry VII. at Bosworth, where he was severely
wounded, was knighted on the field, and was throughout
one of the first Tudor's most trusted councillors. He
fought also at Stoke against the insurgents with Lambert
Sininel. w.is made a knight banneret, governor of Calais,
and lord chamberlain.
The ninth earl, George, descended from this Gilbert, is
not distinguished by any prominent actions. He died
unmarried, and his brother, who followed next, was
succeeded by bis grandson Francis, chiefly memorable for
his unhappy fate. His second' wife, a daughtel' of the
earl of Cardigan, was seduced by the duke of Buckingham,
whom the outraged husband challenged to a duel The
countess, it is said, was present at the scene, and held
Buckingham's horse in the disguise of a page, saw her
husband killed, and then, clasped her lover in her arms,
receiving blood-stains upon her dress from the embrace.
Charles, the twelfth earl, son of this unfortunate nobleman,
was raised by William III, to the dignity of a duke for
his important diplomatic services. His "position in those
slippery times was altogether exceptional Abandoning
the religion of his ancestors he became a Protestant, was
one of the seven who signed the invitation to William of
Orange to come over, and was continually consulted by
him on state affairs after he became king. Vet, being
apparently of a very sensitive disposition, he seems to have
at times repented what he bad done, and even corresponded
with James at St Germain . yet again, in times of danger,
he was as ready as ever to stake his life and fortunes in
the service of his country to preserve the new .settlement.
It was apparently his extreme sensitiveness that caused
him to be spoknn of as "the king of hearts." In 1694
he was created marquis of Alton and duke of' Shrewsbury,
but as he left no son these titles died along with him, and
the earldom of Shrewsbury devolved on his cousin Gilbert,
a Roman Catholic priest.
From this time the direct line of Sir Gilbert Talbot of
Grafton began to fail A nephew three times succeeded
to an uncle, and then the title devolved upon a cousin,
who died uumarried in 1856 On the death of this cousin
the descent of the- title was for a short time in dispute, and
the lauds were claimed for the infant son of the duke of
Norfolk under the will of the last earl , but the courts
decided that, under a private Act obtained by the duke of
Shrewsbury in the sixth year of George I„ the title and
estates must go together, and the true successor to the
earldom was found in Earl Talbot, the bead ol another
line of the descendants of Sir Gilbert Talbot of Grafton,
sprung from a second marriage of Sir Gilbert's son, Sir
John Talbot of AlbrightOD The head of this family in
the beginning of the last century was a divine of some
mark, who died bishop of Durham in 1730 His son
Charles, who filled the office of lord chancellor, was
created Baron Talbot of Hensol in Glamorganshire in
1733 , and his son again was advanced to the dignity of
Earl Talbot in 17C1, to which was added that of Baron
Dynevor in 1 780 Then succeeded a nephew, who was
also created Vj.scount Ingestre, and assumed by royal
licence the surname of Chetwynd before Talbot, from his
mother
The Earl Talbot who successfully claimed the Shrews-
bury title fas the eighteenth earl) was the present earl's
T A L — T A L
27
grandfather, and all the titles just mentioned have been
ooited in his line ever since. (j ga.)
TALBOT, William Henry Fox (1800-1877), a dis-
coverer in photography, was the only child of William
Davenport Talbot^ of Laycock Abbey, Wilts, and of Lady
Elizabeth Fox Strangways, daughter of the second earl of
Lchester He was born in February 1800, and educated
at Harrow and at Trinity College, Cambridge, where he
gained the Porson prize in 1820, and graduated as twelfth
wrangler in 1821 From 1822 to 1S72 he frequently
communicated papers to the Eoyal Society, many of them
on Tiathematical subjects. At an early period he had
begun his optical researches, which were to have such
important results in connexion with photography To
the Edinburgh Journal of Science in 1826 he contributed
a paper on "Some Experiments on OoJoured Flame",
to the Quarterly Journal of Science in 1S27 a paper on
"Monochromatic Light", and to the Philosophical Maga-
zine, a number of papers on chemical subjects, including
one on " Chemical Changes of Colour ' Before Daguerre
exhibited in 1839 pictures taken by the sun, Talbot bad
obtained similar success, and as soon as Daguerre's dis-
coveries were whispered communicated the results of his
experiments to the Royal Society (see Photography, vol
xviii. p 824). In 1841 he made known his discovery
of the calotype process, but after the discovery of the
collodion process by Scott Archer, with whom he had a
lawsuit in reference to his patent rights, he relinquished
this field of inquiry. For his discoveries, the narrative
of which is detailed in his Pencil of Nature (1844), he
received in 1S42 the medal of the Royal Society While
engaged in his scientific researches he devoted a consider
able portion of his time to archaeology, and this field of
inquiry latterly occupied 'his chief attention. Besides
reading papers on these subjects before the Royal Society
of Literature and the Society of Biblical Archaeology, he
published Hermes, or Classical and A ntu^vartan Researches
(1838-39), and Illustrations of the Antiquity of the Book
of Genesis (1839). With Sir Henry Rawlinson and Dr
Hincks he shares the honour of having been one of the
first decipherers of the cuneiform inscriptions of Nineveh
He was al.so the author of English Etymologies (1846)
He died at Laycock Abbey, 17th September 1S77
TALC See Geology, vol x. p. 228. and Mixeralogy,
voL xvL p 414.
TALCA, a town of Chili, capital of the province of
Talca, is situated on the Claro, a tributary of the Maule,
nearly due south of Santiago, with which it is connected
by rail The town has a lyceum and some woollen manu-
factures (especially of " ponchos''). In 1875 the population
numbered 17.496, and in 1885 about 19.000
TALENT See Numismatics, vol. xvii. p. 631
TALES are, in the usual acceptance of the word, ficti-
tious narratives, long or short, ancient or modern In this
article "tale" is used in a stricter sense, as equivalent to the
Geiman "Volks-marchen" or the French "conte populaire."
Tims understood; popular tales mean the stories handed
d'lrtn by oral tradition from an unknown antiquity,
among savage and civilized peoples So understood,
popular tales are a subject in mythology, and indeed in
the general study of the development of man, of which the
full interest and importance is scarcely yet recognized
Popular talcs won their way into literature, it is true, at a
very distant period. The Homeric epics, especially the
Odysxry, contain adventures which are manifestly parts
of the general human stock of popular narrative Other
examples are found in the Rigveda, and in the myths which
were handled by the Greek dramatists. Collections of
popular tales, more or less subjected to conscious literary
tr^tment, are found in Sanskrit, as in the work of
Somadeva, whose Kathd Sartt Sdgara, or " Ocean of the
Streams of Story," has been translated by Mr Tawney
(Calcutta, 1880). The Thodsand and One Nights (q.v.)
are full of popular tales, and popular tales are the staple
of the mediaeval Gesta Romanorum, and of the collections
of Straparola and other Italian conteurs. In all tliese and
similar gatherings the story, long circulated from mouth
to mouth among the people, is bandied with conscious art,
and little but the general outline of plot and character of
incident can be regarded as original. In the Histoires ou
C antes du Temps Passe of Perrault (Elzevir, Amsterdam,
1697, the Parisian edition is 'of the same date) we have
one of the earliest gatherings of tales which were taken
down in their nursery shape as they were told by nurses
to children This at least seems probable, though M.
Alfred Maury thinks Perrault drew from literary sources.
Perrault attributed the composition to his son, P. Darmau-
cour, at that time a child, and this pretest enabled him to
give his stories in a simple and almost popular guise. In
the dedication signed by the boy, Perrault offers remarks
which really do throw a certain light on the origin and
characteristics of " inarchen ' He says, "lis renferment
tons une morale trte sens6o et donnent une image
de ce qui se passe dans les moindres families, oil la louable
impatience d'instruire les enfans fait imaginer des histoires
d^pourvdes de raison pour s'accomoder k ces memes enfants,
qui n'en ont pas encore." It seems that popular tales in
many cases probably owe their origin to the desire of
enfo,-cing a moral or practical lesson. It appears that
their irrational and "infantile" character — "d^pourvfteu
de raison " — is derived from their origin, if not actually
among children, at least among childlike peoples, who have
not arrived at "raison," that is, at the scientific and modern
conception of the world and of the nature of mart
The success of Perrault's popular tales brought the
genre into literary fashion, and the Comtesse d'Aulnoy in-
vented, or in some cases adapted, "contes," which still retain
a great popularity But the precise and scieirtific collec-
tion of tales from the lips of the people is not much earlier
than our century. The chief impulse to the study was
given by the brothers Grimm. The first edition of their
Kinder- und Haus-Marchen was published in 1S12. The
English reader will find a very considerable bibliography
of popular tales, as known to the Grimms, in Mrs Alfred
Hunt's translation, Grimm's Household Tales, with Notes
(London, 1884). " How unique was our collection when it
first appeared," they exclaim, and now merely to enumerate
the books of such traditions would occupy much space.
In addition to the miirchen of IndoEuropean peoples, the
Grimms became acquainted with some Malay stories,
some narratives of Bechuanas, Negroes, American Indians,
and Finnish, Esthonian, and Magyar stories. Thus tho
Grimins'knowledge of non-European marchen was extremely
slight. It enabled them, however, to observe the increase
of refinement "in proportion as gentler and more humane
manners develop themselves," the monstrosities of Finnish
and Red-Indian fancy gradually fading in the, narratives
of Germans and Italians The Grimms notice that the
evolution of popular narrative resembles the evolution of
the art of sculpture, from the South-Sea idol to the frieze
of the Parthenon, "from the strongly marked, thin, even
ugly, but highly expressive forms of its earliest stages to
those which possess external beauty of mould." Since tho
Grimms' time our knowledge of the popular tales of non-
European races has been greatly enriched. We possess
numbers of North-American. Brazilian, Zulu, Swahili,
Eskimo, Samoan, Maori, Kaffir, Malagasy, Bushman, and
even Australian marchen, and can study them in comps-r
ison with the stories of Hesse, of the Weet Highlands ot
Scotland, of Scandinavia
iJ3
TALES
While the popular romances of races of all colours must
be examined toizellier, anothur clfmcnt in this subject is
not less important. It had pruOably been often observed
before, but the fact was brought out most vividly by
Von Ilahn (Gnrc/tische uml alljanesrsche Mdn/nn, Lei[>sic,
1864), that the popular tales of European races turn
on the same incidents, and display the same succession
of situations, the same characters, and the same plots,
as are familiar in the ancient epic literature of Greece,
India, Germany, and Scandinavm The epics are either
fully-developed marchen evolved by the literary genius of
poets and saga-men, or the marchen are degenerate and
broken-down memories of the epics and sagas, or perhaps
there may be examples of both processes The second
view, — namely, that the popular tales are, so to speak, the
scattered grains of gold of which the epic is the original
"pocket" or "placer," — the belief that the marchen are
the detritus of the saga, — was for a long time prevalent.
But a variety of arguments enforce the opposite conclusion,
namely, that the marchen are essentially earlier in char-
acter than the epic, which is the final form to which they
have been wrought by the genius of Homer or of some other
remote yet cultivated poet. If this view be accepted, the
evolution of marchen and of certain myths has passed
through the following stages —
(1) The popular tale, as current among the unculti-
vated peoples, such as Iroquois, Zulus, Bushmen, Samoans,
Eskimo, and Samoyedes. This tale will rcllect the mental
condition of rude peoples, and will be full of monstrous
and miraculous events, with an absence of reason proper,
as Perrault says, "a ceux qui n'cn ont pas encore " At the
same time the tale will very probably enforce some moral
or practical lesson, and may even appear to have been
invented with this very purpose, for man is everywhere
impre.ssed with the importance of conduct.
(2) The same tale — or rather a series of incidents and
a plot essentially the same — as it is discovered surviving
in the oral traditions of the illiterate peasantry of European
races. Among them the monstrous element, the ferocity
of manners observed in the first stage, will be somewhat
modified, but will be found most notable among the
Slavonic tribes. Nowhere, even in German and Scottish
marchen, is it extinct, cannibalism and cruel torture being
favourite incidents.
(3) The same plot and incidents as they exist in the
heroic epics and poetry of the cultivated races, such as
the Homeric books, the Greek tragedies, the Cyclic poets,
the ICalewata of the Finn.s, certain hymns of the litr/feda,
certain legends of the Crahmanas, the story of the
Volsungs,— in these a local and almost historical character
is given by the introduction of names of known places, and
the adventures are attributed to national heroes, — Odys-
seus, CEdipus, Sigurd, Wainamoinen, Jason, Pururavas, and
others. The whole tone and manners are nobler and more
refined in proportion as the literary workmanship is more
elaborate.
This theory of the origin of popular tales in the fancy
of peoples in the savage condition (see Mythology), of
their survival as marchen among the peasantry of Indo-
European and other civilized races, and of their transfigu-
ration into epics, could only be worked out after the
diijcovery that savage and civilized popular tales are full of
close resemblances. These resemblances, when only known
to exist among Indo-European peoples, were explained as
part of a common Aryan inheritance, and as the result of
a malady of language. This system, when apjilied to
myths in general, has already been examined (see Mytho-
logy). According to another view, miirchen everywheri
resemble each other because they all arose in India, and
have thence been borrowed and transmitted. For t'lis
theory consult Benfey's Panrhntnmrfi and M. Cosqiun's
Contea de [.oruimc (Pans, 18SG). In opposition to tho
Aryan theory, and the theory of borrowing from India,
the system which is here advocated regards popular talcs
as kaleidoscopic arrangements of com[)aratively few situa-
tions and incidents, which again are naturally devued by
the early fancy. Among these incidents may be men-
tioned, first, kinship and intermarriage between man and
the lower animals and even inorganic phenomena. Thus
a girl IS wooed by a frog, pumpkin, goat, or bear, or
elephant, m Zulu, Scotch, Waiachian, Eskimo, Ojibway,
and German marchen. This incident is based on the lack
of a sense of difference between man and the things in the
world which is prevalent among savages (see Mytholoi;y)
Other incidents familiar in our nursery tales (such as
"Cinderella" and "Puss in Boots") turn on the early
belief in metamorphosis, in magic, in Iriendly or protecting
animals (totems or beast manitous). Others deiienJ on
the early prevalence of cannibalism (compare Crimm, 47,
"The Juniper Tree"). This recurs in the mad song of
Gretchen in Faust, concerning which a distinguished
student writes, "This ghost of a ballad or rhyme is my
earliest remembrance, as crooned by an old East-Lothian
nurse " (Compare Chambers's Pojudur RIojntes of Sot-
land, 1870, p. 49 ) The same legend occurs among the
Bechuanas, and is published by Casalis. Yet another
incident springs from the taboo on certain actions between
husband and wifg, producing the story of Cupid and Psycho
(see Lang's Custom and Myt/i, 1SS4, p. G4). Once more,
the custom which makes the youngest child the heir is illus-
trated in the marchen of the success, despite the jealousy
of the elders, of Cinderella, of the Zulu prince (Callaway's
Tales from the Anut:uhi, pp Gl, G5), and in countless
other marchen. In other cases, as id the world-wide
marchen corresponding to the Jason epic, we seem in
presence of an early romantic invention, — how difTused it
is ditRcult to imagine. Moral les-sons, again, are inculcated
by the numerous tales which turn on the duty of kind-
ness, or on the impossibility of evading fate as announced
in prophecy. In opposition to the philological explanation
of the story of CEdipus as a naturemyth, this theory of
a collection of incidents illustrative of nioral lessons i.s
admirably set forth in Prof. Cauparetti's Edipo e la
Milolor/ia Coniparata (Pisa, 1S67).
On a general view, then, the stuff of popular tales is a
certain nmnber of incidents and a certain set of combina-
tions of these incidents. Their strange and irrational
character is due to their remote origin in the fancy of men
in the savage condition , and their wide distribution is
caused, partly perhaps by oral transmission from people te
people, but more by the tendency of the early imagination
to run everywhere in the same grooves. The narratives,
in the ages of heroic poetry, are elevated into epic song,
and in the Middle Ages they wric even embodied in
legends of the saints. This view is iiiaiiUuincd at greater
length, and with numerous illustrations, m the introduclio--
to Mrs Hunt's translation of Grimm s Kindfv- und Unit)-
Marchen, and in Custom and Myth, already referred to.
A complete bibliography of the literature of popular tales uQuTd
fill many pa^^es The reader who is curious about savage popiilar
talos may turn to Theal's Kaffir Folk Lore (2cl cl., fxui'lnii,
18S6); Callaway's Nursery Talcs of the A mazulu {XMw\on, ISiJsi
Sclioolcraft'3 Alpc Hcsearchcs ; Gill's MtjUis ami Tnlc^ uf the S'uth
Pacific: Pctitot's Traditions hdicnncs (1886)! SliorllanJ's d/.....-.
Religion and Mythologtj (London, 1882) ; Tlie South Afnr-iO l';lk
Lore Record; the Folk Lore Record (London. 1879-85, Mal.a-.isy
stories) ; Rink's Talcs and Traditions of the Eskimo , iJletk's
Hottentot Talcs and Fables (London, 1864); Castrcn'a Samui/uliiehe
Marchen , and Leiand's yl/!70ii7i(iii Lcjcnds (London, 1884). For
European talcs, the bibliography in tlie iranslaliiui of Gnnitit
ahcady refciied to may be used, and the Maisonncuve colleclion
Les Littei atiaes- poj/ulaircs may be recoyimciidcd. The names
T A L — T A L
29
Liebrfcht, Kohler, Dasent. Ralston, Nigra, Pitre.Cosquin, Afanasier,
Gaidoz, Sihillot. may serve as clues through the enchanted forest of
the nursfry tales of Europe. {A. L. )
TALFOURD, Sir Thomas Noon (1795-1854), was at
once eminent as a la(rj'er, as a writer, and as a member of
a brilliant and polished society. He had the faculty of
winning friendships ; so sympathetic indeed was bis nature
that he unconsciously biassed many of the most acute
among his acquaintances towards an estimate of his genius
as an author — more especially as a dramatist — hardly
commensurate with what more impartial criticism has
decided to be his just meed of praise. But, though even
his most excellent work in literature has now ceased to
be generally cared for, his poetry must always be inter-
esting to the literary student.
The son of a brewer in good circumstances, Talfourd
was born on January 26, 1795, at Doxey, near Stafford
(some accounts mention Reading). He received his early
education, first at an institution near Hendon, and later
at the Reading grammar-school under Dr Valpy. Here,
it is said, he acquired his taste for dramatic poetry, pre-
sumably under the guidance of Dr Vaipy. At the age of
eighteen the lad was sent to London to study law under Mr
Chitty, the special pleader. Early in 1821 he joined the
Oxford circuit, having been called to the bar at the Middle
Temple in February of that year. When, fourteen years
later, he was created a serjeant-at-law, and when again he
in 1849 succeeded Mr Justice Coltman as judge of the
Court of Common Fleas, he attained these distinctions
more perhaps for the zeal and laborious care which he
invariably displayed in his conduct of the cases confided to
Dim than on account of any brilliance of forensic talent or
of any marked intellectual subtlety. A parliamentary life
had always had an attraction for him, and at the general
election in 1835 he was returned for Reading. This seat
he retained for close upon six years, and he was again
returned in 1847. In the House of Commons he was no
mere ornamental member. Those efforts of his which have
most interest for us of later date were made on behalf of
the rights of authors, for whose benefit he introduced the
International Copyright Bill ; his speech on this subject
was considered the most telling made in the House during
that session. The bill met with strong opposition, but
Talfourd had the satisfaction of seeing it ultimately pass
into law in 1842, albeit in a greatly modified form.
At the period of his elevation to the bench he was
created a knight, and thenceforward his life was, in the
intervals of his professional labours, devoted to scholarly
and literary pursuits. From his school days he had enter-
tained dreams of attaining eminence as a writer ; and to the
last he remained a diligent student of literature, ancient
and modern. During his early years in London Talfourd
found himself forced to depend — in great measure, at least
— upon his literary exertions. He was at this period on
the stafi of the London Magazine, and was an occasional
contributor to the Edinburgh and Quarterly reviews, the
New Monthly Magazine, and other periodicals ; while, on
joining the western circuit, he acted as law reporter to
The Times. His legal writings on matters germane to lit-
erature are excellent expositions, animated by a lucid and
sufficiently telling, if not highly polished, style. Among
the best of these are his article "On the Principle of
Advocacy in the Practice of the Bar" (in the Law Magazine,
January 1846) ; his Proposed New Law of Copyright of the
Highest Importance to Authors (1838) ; Three Speeches de-
livered in the House of Commons in Favour of an Extension
of Copyright (1840); and his famous Speech for the De-
fendant in the Prosecution, the Queen v. Moxon, for the
PuJblicatvm of Shelley's Poetical Works (1841).
But Talfourd cannot be said to have gained any position
among men of letters until the production of bis tragedy
Ion, which was privately printed in 1835, and produced
in the following year at Covent Garden theatre. The
tragedy was also well received in America, and it met with
the honour of reproduction at Sadler's Wells in December
1861. This dramatic poem, its author's masterpiece, turns
upon the voluntary sacrifice of Ion, king of Argos, in re-
sponse to the Delphic oracle, which had declared that only
with the extinction of the reigning family could the pre-
vailing pestilence incurred by the deeds of that family be
removed. As a poem Ion has many high qualities. The
blank verse, if lacking the highest excellence, is smooth
and musical, and the lines are frequently informed with the
spirit of genuine poetry ; the character of the bigh-souled
son of the Argive king is finely developed, and the reader
is affected throughout by that same sense of the relentless
working and potency of destiny which so markedly distin-
guishes the writings of the Greek dramatists.
Two years later, at the Haymarket theatre, The Athenian
Captive was acted with moderate success. In 1839 Glen-
coe, or the Fate of the Macdonald^, was privately printed,
and in 1840 it was produced at the Haymarket; but this
home drama is indubitably much inferior to his two classic
plays. The Castilian (1853) did not excite a tenth part of
the interest called forth by Ion. Before this he had pro-
duced various prose writings other than those already re-
ferred to, — among them his " History of Greek Litera-
ture," in the Encyclopsedia Metropolitana.
Besides the honour of knighthood and his various legal
distinctions, Talfourd held the honorary degree of D.C.L.
from the university of Oxford. He died in court during
the performance of his judicial duties, at Stafford, on
March 13, 1854.
In addition to the writings above-mentioned, Talfourd was the
author of The Letters of Charles Lamd, with a Sketch of his Life
(1837); RemlUctians of a First Visit Id the Alps (1841); Vacation
Rambles artA ThaughJs, comprising recollections of three Conti-
neotal tours in the vacations of 1841, 1842, and 1843 (2 vols., 1844);
and Final Memorials of Charlej Lamb (1849-50).
TALISMAN. See Amulet.
TALLAGE, or Talliage (from the French tailler, i.e.,
a part cut out of the whole), appears to have signified at
first a tax in general, but became afterwards confined in
England to a special form of tax, the assessment upon cities,
boroughs, and royal demesnes — in effect, a land tax. Like
Scot AGE (q.v.), tallage was superseded by the subsidy sys-
tem in the 1 4th century. The last occasion on which it was
levied appears to be the year 1332. The famous statute
of 25 Edw. I. (in some editions of the statutes 34 Edw. I.)
De Tallagio non Concedendo, though it is printed among
the statute^ of the realm, and was cited as a statute in
the preamble to the Petition of Right in 1627, and by the
judges in John Hampden's case in 1637, is probably an
imperfect and unauthoritative abstract of the Confirmatio
Cartarum. The first section enacts that no tallage or aid
shall be imposed or levied by the king and his heir." with-
out the will and assent of the archbishops, bishops, and
other prelates, the earls, barons, knights, burgesses, and
other freemen in the kingdom. Tallagium facere was the
technical term for rendering accounts in the exchequer, the
accounts being originally kept by means of tallies or
notched sticks. The tellers (a corruption of talliers) of the
exchequer were at one time important financial officers.
The system of keeping the national accounts by tallies was
abolished by 23 Ger IIL c. 82, the .office of teller by 57
Geo. III. c. 84.
TALLEYRAND DE PfiRIGORD, Charles Mauricb
(1754-1838), created by Napoleon a prince of the empira
under the title of the Prince de B^n^vent, was born at
Pans on 2d February 1754. His father, who was of s
younger branch of the princely family of Chalais, was as
30
TALLEYRAND
officer in the army of Louis XV., and his mother, also of
Dohle family, was a member of the royal household at Ver-
sailles. An accident in infancy rendered Talleyrand lame
for life, and changed his whole career His upbringing was,
in accordance with the fashionable heartlessness of the day,
entirely left to strangers ; and while a boy he was, in con-
sequence of his lameness, formally deprived by a conseil de
familU of his rights of primogeuiture, — his younger brother,
,the Comte d'Archambaud, taking his place, and he was
destined for the church. He keenly felt the blow, but was
powerl°.ss to avert it; and he used his enforced profession
only as a stepping-stone to his ambition, always despising
it, and coolly and defiantly forsaking it when he found it
an embarrassment.
When he was removed from the country he was sent to
the College d'Harcourt, where he speedily distinguished
himself; and in 1770, when sixteen years of age, he
became an inmate of the S^minaire de St Sulpice, his
education being completed by a course in the Sorbonne.
Much as Talleyrand despised the church as a career, he
never ceased highly to appreciate theology as a training,
and he publicly testified to its value to the statesman and
specially to the diplomatist. While achieving distinction
as a student, he carefully cultivated such society as might
promote his advancement ; and it was in the circle of
Madame du Barry that his cynicism and wit, reported by
her to the king, gained him the position of abb6. To his
arts of manner were added, net only his advantages of
birth and scholarship, but a penetrating judgment of men
and affairs, a subtle audacity, and a boundlessly selfish
ambition. As early as 1780 we find this ahhe malgre lui
to have reached the important position of " agent-general "
of the French clergy. His ability and his flagrant
immorality alike rendered him a marked man, and the
latter did not prevent his appointment, in accordance
with his father's dying request to the king, as bishop of
Autun in January 1789. The clergy of his own diocese
immediately elected -him a member of the states-general ;
and he delivered before his constituents one of the most
remarkable speeches which the crisis produced, containing
a sagacious and statesmanlike programme of the reforms
which the condition of France demanded. He thus entered
the assembly as one of its leaders.
The states-general had hardly met ere Talleyrand's influ-
ence was called into play. He successfully urged the
clergy to yield to the demand of the commons that the
three estates should meet together; and the nobles could
thereafter only follow the example thus set. On the
question of the extent of the assembly's authority be again
sided with the popular leaders. As a financier of great
foresight and power he soon became justly celebrated;
and his position in the assecably may be estimated by his
appointment as one of a committee of eight to frame the
project of a constitution. All his previous successes were,
however, eclipsed by the daring with which he attacked
the rights and privileges of his own order. He had
seconded the proposals that the clergy should give up their
tithes and plate for the benefit of the nation, and on 10th
October 1789 he himself proposed a scheme whereby the
landed property of the church should be confiscated by the
state. On 2d November, after violent debates, his project
was cirried, and the old clergy thereafter ranked him as
an enemy. But his general popularity so much increased
that he was charged by the national assembly to prepare a
written memoir in defence of its labours ; and the mani-
festo, read on February 10, 1790, was received "ith great
approval througho jt the country. On the 1 6th he was
elected president of the as.-^.^nibly for tiie usual brief term.
On various subjects he was now looked up to as an
aothoTity,-*on education, on electoral and ecclesiastical
reform, on banking, and on general finance. His career as
a diplomatist had not yet begun.
On July 14, 1790, fallcyiand, at the head of 300 clergy,
assisted at the fete in the Champ de Mars in commemora-
tion of the fall of the Bastille, and pubhcly blessed the
great standard of France. By this time, however, the
dispute as to the civil constitution of the clergy had broken
out, the decision cf the assembly being resisted by the
king, backed by the pppe. Whan in November the king
yielded, Talleyrand boldly took the required oath, only two
bishops following his example. New bishops were elected
by the assembly, and these he, in open defiance of the
church, consecrated. In the end of April 1791 he wa^
suspended from his functions and excommunicated by tl..
pope. Without a moment's hesitation Talleyrand aband
oned his profession, which he never afterwards resumed.
He had been false to its vows, and had scandalized it by
his shameless life. It was only in the preceding February
that he had, in declining nomination for the archbishopric
of Pans, felt, indiscreetly enough and contrary to his usual
practice, the necessity of writing to the MonUeur a hypo-
critical confession of his gambling propensities, stating
his gains at .30,000 francs. Although in 1801 the excom-
munication was recalled, it was nearly half a century after
his first act of defiance ere he became personally reconciled
to the church, and then only when he was at the point of
death.
On purely political lines, however, Talleyrand's career
became more and more celebrated. In the beginning of
the same month of April 1791, his friend Mirabeau having
just died, he was appointed to succeed him as a director
of the department of Paris, a position which still further
increased his influence in the circles of the metropolis.
On the flight of the king in June, Talleyrand leaned at
first and cautiously towards the duke of Orleans, but finally
declared for a constitutional monarchy with Louis XVI.
still on the throne. Ere the constitutional assembly
brought its existence to a close on 1 4th September, he
unfolded before it his magnificent scheme of national
education, which, in the wirds of Sir Henry Bulwer,
" having at one extremity the communal school and at
the other the Institute, exists with but slight alterations at
this very day." The assembly had voted that none of -its
members should be members of the new legislative body,
so that Talleyrand was free ; besides, events were hurrying
on with strange and critical rapidity ; and Talleyrand left
France for England, reaching London in the end of
January 1792. With this visit his diplomatic career may
be said to have begun.
He was not formally accredited, but had in his pocket
an introduction to Lord Grenville by Delessart the foreign
minister ; the king himself was aware of his mission, the
ostensible object of which was to conciliate England.
Talleyrand for his part shared the ulterior views of
Narbonne, the minister of war, that it would be for the
advantage of his country to divert its energies, which were
morbidly directed to its internal troubles, into another
channel, and to precipitate an Austj-ian war. Although
received well in London society, he found the want of
oflicial credentials a fatal obstacle to his diplomatic nego-
tiations, and he returned to Pans, whence he was almost
immediately again despatched to the English court under
much more favourable conditions. He was nominally only
attendant with De Chauvelin, the minister plenipotentiary,
but he was really the head of the embassy, and he carried
with him a letter of Louis XVI. to George III. At this
time, indeed. Talleyrand's relations with Louis were very
close, — far closer than he afterwards cared or dared to
avow. All, however, was of no avail. The startling
course of the Eevolution made the English look askance
TALLEYRAND
31
upon his mission, and he returned baffled to Paris, where
tie arrived shortly before the coup dtitai of the 10th of
August. But this place, where his wariest manoeuvres
were outdone by the rapidity of the popular movements,
and where at any turn of affairs he might lose his head,
was not to his liking , and by the middle of September
he IS for the third time in London. It is characteristic
of the man — of the dexterity as well as audacity of his
intrigue — that he who had but shortly before carried with
him a letter of favour from Louis XVL was, now that
royalty was abolished, the bearer of a speciSc passport —
"' going to London by our orders " — under the hand of
Oanton. Equally characteristic is the express falsehood
with which he opens his negotiations: he writes at once
to Lord Grenville, " I have at this time absolutely no kind
of mission in England " — he was selling his library and
seeking repose. His courtesies were not returned ; and,
although he succeeded in making friends in certain high
quarters, he was, in the end of January 1794, under the
provisions of the Alien Act, ordered to leave England.
Forti6cd with an introduction by Lord Lansdowne to
Washington, he sailed for the United States.
A decree of the convention had issued against Talley-
rand during his stay in England. He was an emigre.
But as the excesses of the period drew to a close the
proscription was recalled on the appeal of Ch^nier, who
founded on Talleyrand's relations with Danton and his
mission to England in the service of the Revolution ! On
July 25, 1795, he arrived at Hamburg, whence he passed
to Berlin, and, after a short stay there, to Paris. He was
received with enthusiasm in the circles of fashion and
intrigue. He would have been eagerly welcomed by any
of the political parlies as a strength ; but the Directory
was in power, and he Supported it. Within the Directory
he supported Barras, as against his compeers. He was
thus a moderate constitutionalist and in the way of
advancement.
During his absence from France he had been elected a
member of the Institute. He was now elected its secre-
tary. In this capacity he read before it two memoirs — one
on the "commercial relations of the United States with
England," and the other "on the ad^-antages of withdraw-
ing from new colonies in present circumstances." These
memoirs exhibit Talleyrand at the very maturity of his
powers, and are sufficient to establish his position as
one of the most far-seeing and thoughtful statesmen that
France ever possessed. The first paper shows how, in
spite of the War of Independence, the force of language,
race, and interest must in his view bind England and the
States together as natural allies , and it contains that
remarkable passage (which once read is never forgotten) in
which the civilization of America is described as exhibited
in space as well as in time, — as the traveller moves west-
ward from State to State he appears to go backward from
age to age. The papers, which were read in April and
July of 1797, made his claim to state recognition irre-
sistible, and towards the end of the latter month he was
appointed to the post-of foreign minister.
He had been carefully scanning the political situation,
and be accurately foresaw that the Directory, which
represented no one set of opinions, but only a vain com-
fiound of all, could not stand against unity of policy
backed by force, and in the meantime coulu be manipu-
lated. Thus with a brutal swiftness its personnel becomes
changed. Barras with his sluggish moderation remains ;
but, behind and through him, it is the dexterous purpose
of Talleyrand that is at work. This is the first character-
istic of his administration. Its second is the ability which
he displays in his communications with the diplomatic
service, in view of the rupture with England. Its third is
the shamelessly corrupt manner in which he approaches
the American ambassadors on the subject of the seizure of
certain ships, on the conclusion of a commercial treaty
between England and the Slate.s, putting himself in hib
public and powerful position at their service^ — if the bribe
were suitably large. And its fourth is that he is hardly in
the chair of office until he has shrewdly selected Bonaparte
as the object of his assiduous flatteries, writing to him in
semi-confidence, and laying the basis of their future
intimacy. But his first terra of office was short : the
American ambassadors spurned his olTer and let h>»
conduct be publicly known, with the result that for this
and other reasons he resigned his post. Public opinion
was outraged. His official corruption, however, was not
ended, for Talleyrand turned' everything into gold ; in his
later diplomacy also he could always be bought ; and this
public immorality was but too faithfully reflected in hia
pnvate life, in which gambling was his passion and a
source of his vast wealth.
Out of office, but still pulling the strings of the Directory,
he awaited the arrival of Napoleon in Paris, and it was
his hand which was most powerful in shaping tLe events
of the 18th and 19th Brumaire — 9th and 10th November
1799. He reconciled Sieyte to Bonaparte ; a majority of
the Directory — Siey^s, Ducos, and at last at his persuasion
even Barras — resigned ; the Directory collapsed, and the
consulate was established (see Napoleon and Siivis).
Napoleon was the first and Talleyrand the secpnd man in
France.
He was now an absolutist, the whole drift of his
influence being in the direction of consolidating, under
whatever title, the power of Bonaparte. For many years
henceforward Talleyrand's career is part of the general
history of France. He is soon again foreign minister ; and
he is acknowledged to have been the ablest diplomatist of
an age when diplomacy was a greater, power than it has
ever been before or since. To him falls a full share of
responsibility for the kidnapping and murder of the Duo
d'Enghien in March 1804 (see Savary). He had assisted
at the councils when the atrocity was planned, and he
wrote to the grand-duke justifying the seizure of the
prince while on Baden territory. His hand in the matter
was of course concealed. Cut, when one advised him to
tender his resignation, he demurely remarked, " If, as you
sa}', Bonaparte has been guilty of a crime, that is no reason
why I should be guilty of a folly." In other and more
agreeable directions he had prostrated himself before
Napoleon's purposes, approving among other things of the
policy of the Concordat (15th July 1801), and securing
thereby the recall of his excommunication. To the pope's
grateful brief, which gave him liberty " to administer all
civil affairs," he coolly gave a wide interpretation, and he
shortly thereafter married. He of course supported and
defended first the consulship for life and then the crown-
ing of the emperor.
By and by, however, a change comes over his political
attitude, and it is not long ere Napoleon detects it. This
change we date, with Sainte-Beuve, from the end of
January 1809. Before the peace of Tilsit, July S, 1807,
from Jena onwards, he had personally accompanied the
great conqueror ; after it they stood apart, for the states-
man saw in those brilliant but ceaseless conquests the
prelude to the ruin of his master and his country. He
was now prince of Beneven'o. and he withdrew from the
ministry, recei' ng at his own sire the title of vicegrand-
elector of the empire. Yet he had not disapproved of the
Spanish war ; Lhe young princes had even been entrusted
to his surveillance at his country house at Valen(;ay. But
anything might have happened to the emperor in Spain,
and Talleyrand had evidently been calculating the chances
32
T A L — T A L
of the future. So at the date stated the explosion occurs,
NapoleoD pouring upon Talleyrand all the fury of his
iQvective, reproaching him with the affair of the Due
d'Enghien, and clamouring to know vhcre his enormous
wealth had come from, — how much he had gained at
play or on the stock exchange, and what was the sum of
his bribes by foruign i^owers. Over and over again such
scenes are repeated, the burden of the fierce reproaches
being always the same ; .ut Talleyrand stands impassive
as a statue, remarking ont >, but not till he is out of the
room, and is limping awaj " What a pity that such a
great man has been so badly brought up !" or sending in,
at another time, a resignation, which of course is not ac-
cepted. The reproaches of the emperor were only too well
founded, his minister having reaped a vast harvest from
the smaller powers at the formation of the Rhenish Con-
federation; it is indeed recorded that Talleyrand once put
a figure upon his gains m this department of corruption —
the figure be ag no less than sixty million francs.
It is undoubtedly to his credit, however, that he steadily
resisted a warlike policy, and that he was particularly
opposed to the Russian invasion. He was occasionally
employed in diplomatic negotiations, and was even again
offered the post of foreign minister if he would give up
that of vice-grand -elector. This offer, which would have
placed him at the mercy of Napoleon, he declined, and
the breach between the two widened. Before the events
of 1814; his hotel had become the centre of anti Napoleonic
intrigue ; as the crisis approached he communicated with
the allies ; when it was at hand he favoured a regency,
and appeared anxious that Marie Louise should remain in
Paris ; and when this was abandoned he carefully arranged
a feigned departure himself, but that his carriage should
be turned back at the city gates , he did return ; and the
emperor Alexander was his guest at the Hotel Talleyrand !
The revolution was his work ; and his nominee Louis
XVIII. ascended the throne. For a third time, and again
under a new master, he was appointed foreign minister.
It would be difficult to overestimate the splendid services
which he now rendered to France. In Paris, on 23d April,
the treaty was concluded under which the soldiers of the
allies were to leave French soil , and Talleyrand success-
fully urged that the territory of France should be the
enlarged territory of 1792, and also that the great art
treasures of which so many European cities had been
despoiled should remain in Pans. A final treaty ot peace
between Europe and France was concluded on 30th May,
and in September the congress of Vienna assembled. It
was the scene of Talleyrand's greatest triumphs. He
succeeded single-handed in breaking up the confederation
of the allies, and in reintroducing the voice of France into
the deliberations of the European powers. Further, on
January 3, 1815, a secret treaty was concluded between
Austria, France, and England.
When Napoleon escaped from Elba and advanced
towards Paris, Louis XVIII. retired to Ghent. Although
the congress of Vienna was thus broken up, Talleyrand
made no haste to follow him thither. He was puzzled,
and remained so during the Hundred Days. He despised
Louis, and an early approach to Bonaparte was out of the
question. He therefore coolly betook himself to Carlsbad,
remarking, when an explanation was asked for, that the
first duty of a diplomatist after a congress was to attend
to his liver I Waterloo of course decided him. He ap-
peared at Ghent, and was but coldly received. The foreign
powers, however, intervened, conscious after Vienna of
Talleyrand's value ; and, among others, Wellington insisted
that the great diplomatist must be taken into the councils
of Louis, — with the result that he became pnme minister
at the second restoration. But bis position was one of
extreme difficulty. The king di.sliked him ; there were
scenes bordering on violence in the royal presence ; the
Russian emperor intimated his hostility to him ; he shared
the odium of having a man like Fouch^ for a colleague ;
Chateaubriand and his parly hated and beset him. For-
tunately £.n excuse of a broad and national kind soon pre-
sented itself. He objected to the conditions which the
allies were imposing upon France, refused to sign tha
treaty, and on 24th September resigned office.
He retired into private life, in which he remained for
fifteen years. He only spoke in the House of Peers
three times during this period, — twice (1821 and 1822)
in favour of the liberty of the press, and once (1823)
to protest against the Spanish war. But in 1830, when
Charles X.'s reign was evidently imperilled, he again is at
the centre of intrigue ; and it is actually at bis private but
urgent suggestion that Louis Philippe heads the revolution,
taking, to begin with, the title of lieutenant-general of tha
kingdom. Declining the post of foreign minister, he
proceeded to London as ambassador, conducting himself
and serving his country with his usual consummate skill.
He returned crowned with success after the formation of
the Quadruple Alliance. In November 1834 he resigned,,
and quitted public life for ever.
He emerged from his retirement ob March 3, 1838, to
pronounce before the Institute the tloge of Reinhard, and
in so doing to treat of diplomacy in general, and to.
suggest an indirect but adroit apology for his owu career.
He was received with unbounded enthusiasm by thfe 6lite
of French literature and society — Cousin even exclaiming
that the 6loge was worthy of Voltaire. His last illness,
which had by this time shown itself, soon prostrated him.
He was visited on his death-bed by crowds of celebrities,
including the king. He died on May 17, 1838, at tha
great age of eighty-four. He is buried at Valencjay.
According to his desire, his memoirs under his own hand
will not appear till 1890.
There is a considerable body of anonymous and untrustworthy
literature both in Flench and English on the subject of this sketch.
For the earlier pari of Talleyrand's career, see the general literature
of the Revolution; Ibrlhe Napoleonic, the general histories, includ-
iug especially the Meviotrs of the Due de Rovigo ; for the third and
last, also the general histories, and especially the CorTp^ondtnca
bflween Talleyrand and Louis XVIII , edited by Pullain (18&0-,
transl. into English. 1881). and the Mtmoira of Guizot. Refer-
ences abound to the private lile of Talleyrand, and on it see also
the Hisloire Politiqiu: el U'ie Intime, by 0. Touchard-Lafosse (1848),
and the Souvenira hdtvies sur M. de T(tlleyran4, by Amedee
Pichot (1870). The student roust be on his guard iu perusing
most of this last-mentioned literature. For many years the His
toire Polilique ct Privie, by 0 Michaud (1863), stood practically
uncorrected, although evidently a studied and bitter attack. The
view taken hy I.ouis Blanc in his Dir /t'w (translated into English
in 1846) is also quite distorted, and if one wishes to see a complete
misreading of Talleyrand's career it can bt rr)und in f^laiic's ti^nth
chapter of his fifth book. Sir Henry Lylioii Bulwer rendered great
service by his life of Talleyrand, publislied in liis Historical Cfuir-
aeters; and the worth and accuracy of Rulwcr's biography, which
was speedily translated into French, lias been amply acknowledged
by Sainte.Beuve in his valuable treatise (lectures) on Talleyrand,
published in 1870. Reference should also be mad« to Mignet,
Bastide, and the Mejnoires Politujues of Lamartine.
Caution will have to be exercised in reading Talleyrand's auto-
biography, which will not appear till 1890, The testimony of con-
temporaries will not be available to check it, and Talleyrand i.<i
proved to have presided at the destruction of much documentary
evidence implicating himself, eg, at the moment when the
Russian emperor was living at his house. (T. S. )
TALLIEN, Jean Lambekt (17C9-1820), the chief
leader of the party that overthrew Robespierre, was the
son of the viaitre d'/i6tel of the Marquis de Bercy, and
was born in Paris in 1769. The marquis, perceiving the
boy's ability, bad him well educated, and got him a
place as a lawyer's clerk. Being much excited by the first
events of the Revolution, he gave up his desk to enter i
printer's office, and by 1791 he was overseer of the printiDK
T A X-T A L
33
(iepartmer.t of the MonUeur. While thus employed ha
conceived the idea of the joumataJichf,'eiTid from January
to May 1791 he placarded a large prioted sheet on all
the walls of Paris twice a week under the title of the Ami
dts Citoyms. This enterprise of his, of which the expenses
were defrayed by the Jacobin C\\i\\ made him well known
to the revolutionary leaders ; and he made himself still
more- conspicuous in organizing the great " Fete de la
Libert^" on April 15, 1792, in honour of the released
soldiers of Chdteau-Vieux, with -Collot d'Herbois. On
July 8, 1 792, he was the spokesman of a deputation of
the section of the Place Royale which demanded from
the legislative assembly the reinstatement of Potion and
Manuel, and he was one of the most active popular leaders
in the attack upon the Tuileries on 10th August, on which
day he was appointed secretary or clerk to the revolution-
ary commune of Paris. In this capacity he exhibited an
almost feverish activity ; he perpetually appeared at the
bar of the assembly on behalf of the commune ; he
announced the massacres of September in the prisons in
terms of praise and apology ; and he sent off the famous
circular of 3d September to the provinces, recommending
them to do likewise. At the close of the month he
resigned his post on being elected, in spite of his youth,
a deputy to tbe Convention by the department of Seine-
et-Oiae, and he commenced his legislative career by defend-
ing the conduct of the communo during the massacres. He
took his seat upon the Mountain, and showed himself one
of the most vigorous Jacobins, particularly in his defence
of Marat ; he voted for the execution of the king, and was
elected a member of the Committee of General Security on
January 21, 1793. After a short mission in the western
provinces he returned to Paris, and took ai^ active part in
the coup3 'cTelat of 31st May and 2d June, which resulted
in the overthrow of the Girondins. For the next few
months he remained comparatively quiet, but on Septem-
ber 23, 1793, he was sent with Ysabeau on his famous
mission to Bordeaux. This was the very month in which
the Terror, was organized under the superintendence of the
Committees of Public Safety and General Security, and
Bordeatiz was one of the cities selected to feel its full
weight, Tallien showed himself one of the most vigorous
of the proconsuls sent over France to establish the Terror
in the provinces ; though with but few adherents, he soon
awed the great city into quiet, and kept the guillotine
constantly employed. It was at this moment that the
romance of Tallien's life commenced. Among his prisoners
was Theresa, Comtesse de Fontenay, the daughter of the
great Spanish banker Cabarms, the most beautiful and
fascinating wonran of her time, and Tallien not only spared
her life but fell deeply in love with her. She quickly
abated the fierceness of- his revolutionary ardour, and
from the lives she saved by her entreaties she received the
name of " Our Lady of Pity." This mildness, however,
displeased the members of .the committees; Tallien was
Te<»iled to Paris ; and Madame de Fontenay was imprisoned
ther^. Danton and his friends had but just fallen, and
the members of the committees were .half afraid to strike
again at the moderates, so Tallien was spared for the time,
and was even elected president of the Convention on March
24, 1794. ' But the Terror could not be maintained at the
same pitch : Robespierre began to see that he must strike
6t many of his own colleagues in the committees if he was
to cony out his theories, and Tallien was one of the men
condemned with them. -They determined to strike first,
and on the great day of Thermidor it was Tallien who,
Qrged on by the danger in which his beloved lay, opened
the attack upon Robespierre. The movement was suc-
cessful ; Robespierre and his friends were guillotined ;
bnd ths young Tallien, oa the leading Thermidorian, was
2:j— 3
elected to the Committee of Public Safety. Now came
tho great months of his career : he showed himselt a
vigorous Thermidorian ; he was instrumental in suppress-
ing the Revolutionary Tribunal and the Jacobin Club ; he
attacked Carrier and Lebon, the proconsuls of Nantes and
Arras ; and he fought bravely against the insurgents of
Pi-airial. In all these months he was supported by his
Theresa, whom he married on December 26, 1794, and
who became the leader of tho social life of Paris. His last
political achievement was in July 1795, when he was present
,'with Hocho at the destruction of the army of the 6migr6a
at Quiberon, and ordered the executions which followed.
After the close of the Convention Tallien's political import-
ance came to an end, fof, though he sat in the Council of
Five Hundred, the moderates attacked him as terrorist,
and the extreme party as a renegade. Madame Tallien
also got tired of him, and became the mistress of the rich
banker Ouvrard. Bonaparte, however, who is said to have
been introduced by him to Barras, took him to Egypt in
his great expedition of June 1798, and after the capture
of Cairo he edited the official journal there, tho Decadt
igyptimne. But Menou sent him away from Egypt, and
on" his passage he was captured by an English cruiser and
taken to London, where he had a good reception among
the Whigs and was well received by Fox. On returning
to France in 1802 he got a divorce from his unfaithful
spouse (who eventually married the Prince de Chimay), and
was left for some time without employment. At last,
through Fouch^ and Talleyrand, he got the appointment
of consul at Alicante, and remained there until he lost the
sight of oni eye from yellow fever; On returning to Paris
he lived on his half-pay until 1815, when he received the
especial favour of not being exiled like the other regicides.
His latter days were spent in the direst poverty ; he had
to sell his books to get bread. He died at Paris on Nov-
ember 16, 1820.
TALLIS (TAii-ys, Talys, or TALLisros), Thomas
(c. 1515-1585), justly styled "the father of English cathe-
dral music," was born, as nearly as can be ascertained,
about the year 1515. The history of his youth is involved
in some obscurity ; there seems, however, but little doubt
that, after singing as a chorister at old Saint Paul's under
Thomas Mulliner, he obtained a place among the children
of the chapel royal. His next appointment was that of
organist at Waltham abbey, where, on the dissolution of
the monastery in 1540, he received, in compensation for
the loss of his preferment, 20s. for wages and 20s. for
reward. An interesting relic of this period of his career
is preserved in the library of the British Museum, in the
form of a volume of MS. treatises on music, once belong-
ing to- the abbey, on the last page of which appears his
autograph, " Thomas Tallys," with the final letter pro-
longed into an elaborate flourish — the only specimen of
his handwriting now known to exist.
Not long after his dismissal from Waltham, Tallis was
appointed a gentleman of the chapel royal ; and thence-
forward he laboured so zealously for the advancemefit of
his art that his genius has left an indeUble impression upon
the Englfsl^ 'school, which owes more to him than to any
other composer of tho 16th century, and in the history of
which Kia name plays a very important part indeed.
One of the earliest compositions by Tallis to which an
approximate date can be assigned is the well-known Service
in the Dorian Mode, consisting of the Venite, Te Deum,
Benedictiu, Kyrie, Nicene Creed, Sancttia, Gloria in
Excelsis, Magnificat, and Nunc Dimittis, for four voices,
together with the Preces, Hesponses, Paternoster, axtA Litany,
for five, all published for the first time, in .the Rev.:
John Barnard's .First Book of Selected Church Munc, in
1.641, and reprinted, vrith the exception of the Venita
XXIII. — 5
34
T A L— T A L
ttud Patemof'-r, in Boyce's Cathedral Music in 1760.^
That ihia wotlc «as composed for the purpose of supply-
ing a pressing need, after the publication of the second
prayer-book of King Edward VI. in 1552 there can be
no reasonable doubt ; and its perfect adaptation to its
intended purpose is sufficiently proved by the fact that,
for more than three hundred years, its claim to occupy the
first and highest place among compositions of its class has
been undisputed. Written in the style known among
ftaliaa composers as lo stile famigliare, i.e., in simple
counterpoint of the first species, nota contra notam, with
no attempt at ingenious points of imitation, or learned
complications of any kind — it adapts itself with equal
dignity and clearness to the expression of the verbal text
it is intended to illustrate, bringing out the sense of the
words so plainly that the listener cannot fail to interpret
them aright, while its pure rich harmonies tend far more
surely to the excitement of devotional feeling than the
marvellous combinations by means of which too many of
Tallis's contemporaries sought to astonish their hearers,
while forgetting all the loftier attributes of their art. In
this noble quality of self-restraint the Litany and Responses
bear a close analogy to the Improperia and other similar
works of Palestrina, wherein, addressing himself to the
heart rather than to the ear, the princeps musical produces
the most thrilling effects by means which, to the super-
•icial critic, appear almost puerile in their simplicity, while
*.hose v.ho are able to look beneath the surface discern in
them depths of learning such as none but a very highly
cultivated musician can appreciate. Of this profound
learning Tallis possessed an inexhaustible store ; and the
rich resources it opened to his genius not only placed his
compositions on a level with those produced by the best
of hi? Italian and Flemish contemporaries, but enabled
him to raise the English school itself to a height which it
had never previously attained, and which, nevertheless, it
continued to maintain undiminished until the death of
Its last representative, Orlando Gibbons, in 1625. Though
this school is generally said to have been founded by Dr
Tye, there can be no doubt that Tallis was it« greatest
master, and that it was indebted to him alone for the
infusion of new life and vigour which prevented it from
degenerating, as some of the earlier Flemish schools had
done, into a mere vehicle for the display of fruitless
erudition. Tallis's ingenuity far surpassed that of his
most erudite contemporaries ; but he never paraded it at
the ex'iense either of intrinsic beauty or truthfulness of
exp.'-ess'.on. Like every other great musician of the period,
he produced occasionally works confessedly intended for
no more exalted purpose than the exhibition of his
stupendous skill, one of the most remarkable character-
istics of which was the apparnnt ease with which it
disposed of diflBculties that, to composers of ordinary
ability, would have proved insurmountable. In his canon.
Miserere nostri, the intricacy of the contrapuntal devices
seems little short of miraculous ; yet, so smooth and
flowing is the effect produced by their dizzy involutions,
that no one unacquainted with the secret of their con-
struction would suspect' the presence of any unusual
element in the composition. In his motet. Spent m
ahum non habtii, written for forty voices disposed in eight
five-part choirs, each singer is intrusted with a part,
agreeable and interesting in itself, yet never for a moment
interfering with any one of the thirty-nine equally interest-
ing parta with which it is associated. These tours de
force, however, though approachable only by the greatest
contrapuntists living in an age in which counterpoint
* Boyc€'« an»ccountabIe omissioo of the very beautiful VeniU is a
mUfortune which canoot be too deeply deplored, ctiice it has led to
i^ onoaignnMnt to aimofft bapelfu obLinon.
was cultivated with a success that has never since been
equalled, serve to illustrate, one phase only of Tallis's
many-sided genius, which shines with equal brightness in
the eight psalm-tunes (one in each of the first eight
modes) and unpretending little Veni Creator, printed in
1567 at the end of Archbishop Parker's First Quirujuagent
of Metrical Psalms, and many other compositions of like
simpUcity.
In 1575 Tallis and his pupil William Byrd — as great a
contrapuntist as himself, though by no means his equal
in depth of expression — obtained from Queen Elizabeth
royal letters patent granting them the exclusive right ot
printing music and ruling music-paper for twenty-one
years ; and, in virtue of this privilege, they issued, in the
same year, a joint work, entitled Cantiorus quse ab argu-
menio Sacrse vocarUur, quinque et sex partium, containing
sixteen motets by Tallis and eighteen by Byrd, all of thft
highest degree of excellenca Some of these motets,,
adapted to English words, are now sung as anthems in
the Anglican cathedral service. But no such translations
appear to have been made during Tallis's lifetime ; and
there is strong reason for believing that, though both he
and Byrd outwardly conformed to the new religion, and
composed music expressly for its ■ use, they remained
Catholics at heart to the end of their days.
Tallis's contributions to the CarUiones Sacra were the
last of his compositions published dnring his lifetime. He
did not, indeed, live to witness the expiration of the
patent, though Byrd survived it and published two more
books of Cantianes on his own account in 1589 and 1591,
besides numerous other works. Tallis died November 23,
1685, and was buried in the parish church at Greenwich,
whet's, a quaint rhymed epitaph, preserved by Strype, and
reprinted by Burney and Hawkins, recorded the fact that
he served in the chapel royal during the reigns of Henry
\^II., Edward VI., Mary, and Elizabeth. This was de-
stroyed with the old church about 1710; and it was not
untU about twenty years ago that a copy was plaied in
the present building. Portraits, professedly authentic, of
Tallis and Byrd were engraved by Vandergucht in 1730,
for Nicolas Haym's projected History of Music, but never
published. One copy only is known to exist
Not very many works besides those already mentioned wert
printed during Talhs's lifetime ; but a great number are still pre-
served in MS. Unhappily, it is to be (eared that many more were
destroyed, in the 17tn century, during the spoliation of the
cathedral libraries by the Puritans. (W S. R. )
TALLOW is the solid oil or tat of ruminant animais,
but commercially it is almost exclusively obtained from
oxen and sheep. The fat is distributed throughout the
entire animal structure ; but it accumulates in large
quantities as " suet " in the body cavity, and it is from
such suet that tallow is principally melted or rendered.
The various methods by which tallow and other animal
fats are separated and purified have been dealt with under
Oils (see vol. xvii. p. 743). In commerce ox tallow and
sheep tallow are generally distinguished from each other,
although much nondescript animal fat is also found in the
market. Ox tallow occurs at ordinary temperatures as a
solid hard fat having a yellowish white colour ; when fresh
and lew it has scarcely any taste or smell; but it soon
acquires a distinct odour and readily becomes rancid The
fat IS insoluble lo cold alcohol, but it dissolves in boiling
spirit of 0822 sp. gr in chloroform, ether, and the
essemial oils. The hardness of tallow and its melting
point are to some extent affected by the food, age, state
of health, <fec., of the animal yielding It, the firmest or
tallo« being obtained in certain provinces of Russia, whe-e
for a great part of the year the oxen are fed on hay Ne *
talow melts at from 42°-5 to 43° C. old tallow at 43' 5,
T A L — T A L
.35
and tbe melted fat remains liquid till its temperature falls
to 33° or 34° C Tallow coosists of a mixture of two-
thirds of tbe solid fats palmitiii and stearin, with one-third
of the Ikiuid fat olein A fluid oil known as tallow oil is
obtained from solid tallow .by the separation by pressure of
the greater part of the olein To facilitate the separation
of the olein, tallow is first melted and just before resolidi-
fying It is mixed with about 10 per cent, of benzene or
petroleum spirit. The mixture is then allowed to solidify
in flat cakes or slabs, which are placed in press bags and
piled between iron plates m a hydraulic press. On the
application of pressure the olein mixed with the solvent
hydrocarbon flows freely oat, leaving a hard dense cake of
stea.-iii and palmitin in the bags The volatile solvents
are subsequently driven off by blowing steam through the
oil, which remains a turbid fatty fluid from the proportion
of solid fata it carries over with it from the hydraulic
press. Tallow oil is a useful lubricant and a valuable
material for fine soap making, but it is not now abundantly
prepared. Mutton tallow differs in several respects from
that obtained from oxen. It is whiter in colour and
harder, and contains only about 30 per cent, of olein.
Newly rendered it has little taste or smell, but on exposure
it quickly acquires characteristic qualities and becomes
rancid. Sweet mutton tallow melts at 46° and solidifies
at 36° C. ; when old it does not melt under 49°, and be-
comes solid on reaching 44' or 45° C. It is sparingly
soluble in cold ether and in boiling spirit of 0822 sp. gr.
Id early times tallow was a most important candle-makiDg
substance, and candles made from this material are still consumed
in no inconsiderable quantity, but the greater proportion of the
•npply is now absorbed by the soap trade , the artificial butter
trade which has sprung up since 1872 also takes up large quantities
of sweet tallow. Tallow is further used extensively as a lubricant
and in leather dressing, &c. It is of course a product of all cattle
and sheep. rearing countries, and it forms an important article of
export from the United States, the Argentme Kepublic, and the
Australian colonies. Till within the last quarter of a centnrv
Russia supplied nearly all the tallow imported into the United
Kingdom ; but now the imports from that source are on the most
meagre scale, although Russian P. Y. C. (pale yellow candle) con-
tinues to represent the finest commercial brand
TAXLOWS, Vegetable. See Oils, vol. xvii. p. 746.
TALILV, Joseph Fbas^ois (1763-1826), French
tragedian, was born at Paris 15th January 1763. After
attending the Mazarin college, he accompanied his father,
who was a dentist, to London, where he studied in the
hospitals. While in London he took part in some amateur
theatricals, and, his talents at once attracting notice, a pro-
fessional engagement was offered him. To this, however,
his father would not consent, and shortly afterwards he
was sent to Paris, where for some years he was assistant to
a dentist. His predilection for the drama could not be
restrained, and on 21st November 1787 he made his d6bnt
at the Comedie Franijaise in Mahomet. His efforts from
the first won appreciation, but for a considerable time he
was restricted to secondary parts. It was in jeuTie premier
parts that he first came prominently into notice, and he
attained only gradtially to his unrivalled position as tbe
exponent of strong and concentrated passion. In 1791 he
and other dissentients founded the Theatre Francis de la
rue de Richelieu,— a name changed in 1 792 to Th^tre de la
lUpublique, where he won his most striking successes.
Talma was among the earliest advocates of realism in
3cenery and costume, being greatly aided in his reforms by
his friend the painter David. He possessed in perfection
the physical gifts fitting him to excel in the highest tragie
parts, an admirably proportioned figure, a striking counten-
ance, and a voice of great beauty and power, which, after
he had conquered a certain thickness of utterance, enabled
him to acquire a matchless elocution. At first somewhat
ttilted and monotonoos in his manner, he gradoallj
emancipated himself from all ^artificial " trammels, and
became by perfection of art a model of simplicity. Talma
enjoyed the intimacy of Napoleon, with whom he had
an acquaintance before Napoleon attained greatness ; and
ha was a friend of Chfinier, Danton, Camille Desmoulins,
and other revolutionists. He made his last appearance
Uth June 1826. and died at Paris 19tb October of that
year
Talina was the author of ifemmra dt Le Kam, prMtUs de
K^/texums mr cet Aclcur a surCArl Thiitral, contributed to the
Colkctiwi lUs Memoircs sitr I' Art Liranuutque. It was published
separately at Pans in 1866, under the title Ktflcxions dc Talina. sur
Lc Kaifi a I Art TlUiUral. .See il&moircs de J F Talma, ecriti par
luiitUmi, H Tcccuillis ct mis en ordrf <tur tes papurs de safamilU
by Alei Dumas (1856). _
TALMUD signifies — (1) "study of and instruction in
anything (whether by any one else or by oneself)" ,' (2)
"learning acquired",- (3) "style, system"^ as such it is
synonymous with Mi^hnah in its fifth signification, vol.
xvi. p. 503, (4) "theory," in contradistinction to "prac
tice,"* — synonymous with Midrask in its fourth significa-
tion, vol. xvi. p. 285 , (5) such interpretation of the .Mosaic
law as is apparent on the surface thereof and does not
necessitate any further disquisition;' (6) Buruitko, or tho
non-canonical Mishnak ;* (7) Gemara, tVe., the oldest com-
mentary on the canonical Atithnak ;' (8) the texts of Misk-
nah and Gemara combined, — the meaning which is the one
most commonly attached to the term Talmud. Although
the word Talmud is not to be found in the Bible, there can
be little doubt that it is a classical Hebrew terra, as may
be seen by the analogy of Tahdnun, "supplication," Tan-
hum, " consolation," ic.
Recensions of the Talmud. — The Talmud exists in two
recensions, — the Palestinian, commonly, but by mistake,
called Talmud Terushalmi (see below), and the Babylonian,
correctly called Talmud Bahli. The Talmud Yerushalmi
embocLes the discussions on the Mishnah (q.v.) oi
hundreds of doctors, living in Palestine, chitfly in Galilee
from the end of the 2d till about the middle of the 5th
century, whilst the Babylonian Talmud embodies chiefly the
discussions on the same Mishnah of hundreds of doctors
living in various places in Babylonia, such as Nebarde'a,'
' Compare Mishnah, Peak, i 1, 0^3 13^3 min IID^HI ("and
the studying of the Law balances them all") , Abolh, iv. 13, THt 'IH
11D?n3 (" be circumspect as regards in.'itruction").
' See Perek Rabbi ileir, 6, nioVna u"? D'30 kSi(" whose heart is
not arrogant on account of hn learning") , c/. T. B , Pisahtm, leaf 49o ;
lODD nonCD nioSni O' his learning becomes forgotten by him").
» See T. B., Syrihednn, leaf 24a, ^33 Ss? mio'jn ("the modeof
study prevalent in Babylonia"), comp. T B-, Pescthim. 346. '!<^33
i3t'noT KnnyDt:' pn'ioN K3it;'m NyiN3 '3n"i om-o "nk'SO
(" foolish Babylonians, who, because ye d^vell in a land of darkness,
say sayings that are obscure "), and T. B., Data Mcsi'a, leaf 85o;
Ftabbi Zera fasted a hundred fasts on going up to Palestine, so that he
might forget the style of Babylonico-Talmudic study (nK733 K1D3 or
nK733 KIIDPri), that it should not trouble him any further. Rashl
takes the quotation from 5(2^a Mesi'a to signify the concrete Babylonian
Talmud, which, however, is impossible.
• See T. B., KidduAin, leaf 406: "Is theory (llO^n) greater or
practice {HtTVO) greater! . . . They all an.swered. Theory (IID^)
is greater because it leads to practice." Talmud, as will have been'
seen, is here given as synonymous with Limmud.
» See T. B., Baba Kamma, leaf 1046, K^'OSp "Wthn V (" I say
this is a plain [Mosaic] teaching"). .
• See T. B., Baba Bathra, leaf 1306, catchword I'lOh I'K. and
Variw Lectiones in loco.
' See T. B., Baba MesCa, leaf 33J, and compare Rashi in loeo.
'The rector of this academy was Sbemuel, court physician of Shapnr
I., and astronomer. Whilst his friend and fellow-pupil R»B (q.v.;
they both attended the lectures of the principal editor of the Mii^
nah) excelled in the other parts of the Jewish law, Shemnel was pre-
eminent in the civil law. On account of this be is repeatedly called
in the Talmud both "Shapnr" (like his master) and " Aryokh" (Uan,
king, teacher). _ To him ii due the legal principle that " tbo law of
TALMUD
Kaphri,' MahiKa,^ Shelchanslb.s but notably at the two
great aciidemies'of ^ara anid Pumbaditha, from about 190
to nearly the end of tke 6th bentury. The doctors of both
recensions, although they' primarily discuss the cotrectness
of the text and meaning of the Mishnah, and what should.
be the right legal decision according to it, do not confine
themselves to this. They introduce, as occasion serves,
not merely the whole of the oral traditioa-handed down to
their time, and the necessary references to, and interpreta-
tions of, the various laws to be found in the Pentateuch
and the other sacred writings, but exhibit also, though only
in a fragmentary manner, an almost complete cycle of the
profane sciences as current orally and known to them
by books composed by Jews and Gentiles. The doctors
of both these recensions were and are called Amoraim
(Q'N";iOS)_ j.f,, mere "discussers, speakers,"'' because, unlike
the Mishnic doctors, who were and are called Tannaim
(Q*S|n), i.e., " learners, teachers," they abstained from raak
ing new laws unless absolutely compelled by circumstances
to do so.* These Amoraim stand, on the whole, in the
same relation to their Mishnic predecessors as counsel
giving a legal opinion, or judges deciding legal cases, stand
to the legislature which frames the laws. In these points
the doctors of both recensions agree. There are, however,
also points of considerable difference between the two Tal-
muds. These are not merely geographical, and so neces-
sarily linguistic,^ but also material. Whilst the discussions
in the Palestinian Talmud are simple, brief, and to the
point, those in the Babylonian Talmud are subtle, long-
winded, and, although always logical, sometimes even far-
fetched.^ But there is another difference The Palestinian
Talmud, besides containing legal and religious discussions,
is a storehouse of history, geography, and archaeology.
the civil government Is the law," i.e., that except id religious matters
the Jew must submit to the laws of his country (T B . Saba Sfithm.
546). Shemuel and Rab (like Rabbi Yohanan and Resh Lakish,
Abayye and Elaba, and others), though intimate friends, nevertbelesa
differ on nearly all i.Tiaginable points, so that when the Talmud wishes
to give firmness to a rerlain decision or opuiioo. it uses the phrase
" Rab and Shemuel, kc, both agree "
' The rector of this school was Rab Hlsda, the father-in-law of
Kaba {ij.v).
• The rector of this school was RaBa (<; v )
' The rector of this school was Tab Mahman b Yishak (T B , OMm,
316, Rashi, catchword K3N), husband of the learned and accomplished
■yaltha, the daughter of the resh galutha (T B . Hulhn. leaf 10961. kc
• Aiwra may also mean an interpreter The great teachers of the
first five centuries had generally a man (or sevcnil men) at their side,
who to the learning requisite to translate the master's teaching given
in Hebrew, and dilate on it in Aramaic, added a Stentor's voice, and
could by f.TScinating speech command the attention of the audience
The first Babylonian Amora, i e., explainer of the itishnah, who had
an Atru/ra, i e , a popular teacher, was Rabbi Shila. The first who is
known to have acted as Airwra, \ e , popular teacher, to an Amora,
i,c.. nn explainer of the Mishnah, wa» the famous RaB {q u. ) See
T. \ . BtTukholh IV 1, 2, 4c. . T B., Berukhoth. leaf 27* . and T B.,
Koiii.c, le.if 2(J') (against Ripoport, 'Lrekh Miihn, s v " Amora")
' Thi« ceruiiily was not uofrequently the case, but even then they
did so "fily in the spinl of the Tannann.
• The Palestinian A^noraim, leaching people who understood Creek,
had not to explain ilie Greek terms which frequently occur id the Sfish
nnli and oihei works kindred to it The Babylonian Amoraivi, how.
ever, who il common with their hearers weie ignorant of Greek, had a
somewhat irregular though certainly effective way (received by them
traditionally) of explaining the Greek terms in the Mishnah, &c , hy
Aramaic etymology We will give two instances only of this practice
— (1) 'P'niBS, which 13 evidently the Greek uToflij/tii, is explained
T B . Baba itesi'a, leaf 666, nO «'?« pVlQ iS KH" kS. "thou shalt
get no payment excepl from this, "—evidently - *KP NHH nsS* —
" mxiii this thou bhalt stand,' t.e , *' if 1 do not pay, this shall serve
a.s my security", compare Rashi on Baba Kamma, 116, catchword
'P'maK . (2) "p'n't is evidently the Greek 5ia»jj«Ti, and Is ex-
pl.iiiied as being a compound of (O'p) Dp'O? Nnn NT, " this shall
stiiid when I am no more," i.e., "this is my last will and testa
iiicnt " From T B., Baba Dalhra, leaf 1356 (evidently a B.ibyloiiian
flnroitho), we see that in T B . Baba MfSi a. leaf 19a, three words
'ri3 3irCE^73) have falleu out. ' Compoio p. 35, footnote 3
whilst the Babylonian Talmud, taking into consideration
that it is treble* the size of its fellow Talmud, contains less
of these. On the other hand, it bestows more care upon
the legal and religious points, and, being the later and the
more studied of the two, it is also the more trustworthy.
System of the Talmud. — Most people imagine not only
that the Talmuds are a pathless wilderness, without so much
as grammatical rules in their respective languages, but that
the laws laid down in them rest on mere tradition. In
reality their languages have strictly grammatical rules (see
below under Aids, ic), and their laws rest en a strictly
logical system. The laws in both Talmuds are discussed and
argued on philosophical rules, for which it is claimed that
they have existed from time immemorial, and can be traced
to the Pentateuch itself These are — (1) the Seven Rules
(nno y2tr), put forth by Hillel (Tosephto Synhedrin, vii,,
last § , Siphro, towards the end of the Introduction ; Aboth,
de-Rabbi Nathan, xxxvii.) but a great deal older than his
time , (2) the Thirteen Rules (nno mt^'V zhu), put forth
by R Yishma'el (Introduction to Sxphro), which can, how-
ever, be traced in nitce to the foregoing "Seven Rules":
both these are for the Halakliah ; and (3) there are also
the Thirty-two Rules (nna D'HK'l WU^'C), put forth by R.
Eli'ezer b R Yose Haggalili (vol i. of most editions of
the Babylonian Talmud), which are for the Agadah. In
addition, most of the pointb to which these rules apply are
secured by early tradition. It is quite true that by idiosyn-
crasy digressions are very frequent both in Talmud and
Midrash , but in the HaUthhah the digression, however
long, invariably ends m coming back to the original cause
of the logical combination, whilst in the Agadah the
digression either conies back to the place from which it
started, or else will be found, on examination, to have been
introduced for its own sake, and have served its own pur-
pose Ao the doctors of Talmud and .^ftdrash are mostly
introduced in dialogues, this is the only practical, if some-
wbal uncommon, method
Dimstun of ihr Talmud —The external division of both
Talmuds is identical with the division, subdivision, and
sub-subdivision of the Mishnah, although there is not
always Gnnarn in the one when there is Gemara in the
other ^ This, however, need not be further discussed herej
as all on this bead is minutely specified in MishnaH;
(7 V ) Concerning the internal division into Halakhah
and Agadah. it ought to be said that the former is more
largely represented m the Babylonian Talmud, whilst the
latter is more largely and more interestingly given in the
Palestinian Talmud Whole collections of Mvirashimnovi
in our hands have constituted (if we may judge from the
known to the unknown) part of the Palestinian Talmud,'*
and seem to have chiefly belonged to those portions of it
which have been gradually lost.
Purpose —The Talmud, unlike the Mishnah, contains not
only individual decisions, but everything that is necessary
for arriving at legal and religious decisions of whatever
description these may be, whilst, like the Mishnah, it is not
Itself a handbook of decisions Tbia is only in accordance
with the nature and spirit of an oral law which delegates
the decisions to theTalmudico-speculative cajiacities of the
teachers of every age Even several of the comparatively
few instances in which the words '3 Nns^ni ("and the
' Bibliographers generally fall into a mistake in describing the st28
o( the Babylonian as twelve tunes that ol the Palesliman Talmud.
They forget that two-thirds ol the nic ol the former is simply owing
to the commentaries bj which it is luvanably accompanied.
' The only thing that ought to be mentioned here is, that to the
Palestinian Talniud the SA€6o^nwWi/u(6 Kelunnoth Yenishalmiyyolh
(Frankfort, 1851, Svo) must be added, whdst O'emura Shrf:alim and
the Massekhlnth Kttannvth, which now form an integral part of the
Babylonian Talmud, are l^6o(A de-Rabbi HaUian excepted) uiijusti-_
tiably attached to lU '" See Rashi on Gen. xlvii. 2.
TALMUD
37
decision is according to so and so ") occur in the Babylonian
Talmud are alater addition. They belong to the Hatakhoth
Gedoloth,^ acd are consequently, at the earliest, of the 8th
century, bat are probably of even much later dat«.
^ Editors.— 1\\& editorship of the Palestinian Talmud is
generally, after Maimonides,' ascribed to Eabbi Yohanan
(b. Napha). But this, if literally taken, is a gross mistake,
as that teacher (ob. 279) died more than a hundred years
before the latest ^1 mora (c. 450) mentioned in that Talmud
A similar error is made with respect to the editor or
editors of the Babylonian Talmud, whose names are given
as Rab Asshi (see Rab) {ob. 427) and Rabina {ob. 550),
and who lived still much earlier than the^ last teachers
mentioned in that Talmud (8th century). ' But it ought
to be remembered that when the ancients speak of
editors of books of such a mixed character as the Mish-
nak, the Zohar, both Talmuds, &c., they mean the person
or persons who gave the first impulse to the collection or
redaction oi such books. In this sense, certainly, Rabbi
Yohanan waa the editor of the Palestinian and Rab Asshi
and Rabina were the editors of the Babylonian Talmuds.
For, whilst the first of the latter pair went more than
once through the discussion of the whole Mishnah by the
Amoraim from 190 to his time (a. 427), the latter supple-
mented the collection down to his own time (550). As
regards the Babylonian Talmud, the Amoraim were
succeeded by a new order of men called Saboraim (j33l
»K1UD), i.e., " opiners," who ventured only occasionally to
revise and authenticate the sayings of their predecessors.
The last of these Saboraim were Rab 'Ina (or Giza.) and
Rab Siraona (c. 550-590). In any case neither the one
Talmud nor the other was written down, slight private
notes excepted (onnD ni^JO), before the close of the 6th
century, if then. The apparently insurmountable diffi-
culty of keeping such vast masses of literature in the head
is removed when one takes into consideration that both
teacher and student had means of help to their memory
fully corresponding to the vastness of the literature. In
the first place, they had the numbers already occurring in
the Mishnah {e.g., five must not separate the heave-offering
on account of the benediction to be recited in connexion
with the act; Tervmoth L 1), <fea Secondly, they had
names. Since to thejsayings of the Talmud were generally
attached the names of those who uttered them, saying and'
name became in the memory of the student identical If
somebody who had heard a certain saying from somebody,
who in his turn had heard it from somebody else, was
mentioned in the Talmud, all other sayings, however
unlike these in nature, if they had only the same link of
tradition, were recited on the same occasion : e.g., in the
Palestinian Talmud, Megillah iv. 1, "says Rabbi Haggai,
says Rabbi Shemuel b. Rab Yishak," kc. ; T. B., Berakhoth,
leaf 36, <tc., " says Rabbi Zerika, says Rabbi Ammi, says
Rabbi Yehoshua' b. Levi," d-c. Thirdly, other oral tradi-
tions, which went by the order of the Pentateuch, received
in the written Pentateuch vast aids to memory. Fourthly,
the MishTiah (although itself not written down), by its
divisions, subdivisions, and sub-subdivisions, became, in its
turn, a mighty aid to memory. Fifthly, as regards the
Babylonian Talmud, there are additional means of aiding
memory in existence, for every now and then one meets-
with a Mnemosynon (Siman), which strings together the
order of subjects {e.g., T. B., BerakhoiA, 32a, last line).
Both in MSS. and printed editions these $imanim are
given in brackets. Rapoport and his followers would have
• E.g., T. B., Berakficlh, leaf 36a. See Eaahi and To$apholh,
catchword Nn27ni ; Bid., 366, and in other places.
' In his Introduction to the commentary on the Mitknah (commonly,
bat by mistake, called Introduction to the Seder Zeram) and in bis
Intro<luction to the Miahnch feroA.
US believe that th&Be mnemonic phrases are late inventions,
but they have aa yet failed to make good their assertions.
See T. B., Shabbalh 104a, and T. B., 'Erubin, 546, where
these S'.manim are positively mentioned early in the 4th
century ; cf. Rashi in loco.
Value. — The value of the Talmuds may be estimated by
the fact that they contain the Mishnah in various recen-
sions and a large portion of the contents of Midrashic col-
lections, and in addition comprise a vast amount of Sopheric
literature not to be found in the canonical Mishnah and
Agadic matter not to be found in the known Midrashim,
and have thousands of notices on secular knowledge of all
kinds. Here, however, the reader ought to be again re-
minded that, whilst the Babylonian Talmud, the one of
much larger extent, contains a great deal more Judaeo-
religious matter, the Palestinian Talmud — of much smaller
extent — is of much greater value for the historian, the
geographer, the numismatist, and other students.
Vicissitudes of the Talmud. — Whilst the Babylonian
Talmud commanded the attention of a hostile world, and
was proscribed, mutilated,* and condemned, and finally
delivered over to the flames* by popes and kings, the
Palestinian Talmud suffered still more from one single
enemy — neglect.^ Thousands of copies nf the former
recension were destroyed in the course of time, but, this
Talmud being studied in all parts of the world, the few
copies surviving became the means of an endless supply.
Not so as regards the Palestinian Talmud, which found
no students, or but few, after the closing (c. 450) of the
Jewish academies in Palestine ; and we have even to thank
the enemies of traditional Judaism, the Karaites, who used
it in controversy with their' Rabbanite opponents, for the
preservation of some copies of it. By degrees th o neglect of
the book became so great that whole chapters of treatises,
whole treatises of orders, and almost two whole orders
themselves, disappeared, and are lost to this day.'
Aids to the Study of the Ttlmuds. — (o) Lexicons. — The 6rst rank
is occupied by lexicons for both Talmuds and Midrashim, and of
these tnat by E. Nathan b. Yehiel of Rome, compiled in the llth
and 12th centuries, claims the first place. All other lexicons, from "
Ellas Levita, Philip Aquinas, Johannes Buxtorf, &c. , down to
LeTy and Jastrow, are more or less based upon this grand work
called 'Arukh.'' (b) Grammars. — A slight attempt at compiling a
* Raymundus Martin (Ramon Martinez), backed up by his teacher
Pablo Cristiani (see Ramban), was one of the first five (or rather six)
mutilators (called censors) of the Talmud and kindred books. Sea
Touroo, Histoire des H&mmes lilustres de VOrdre de Saint Dominiqite,
L (Paris, 1743, 4to) p. 492 ; Jour. Phi'.oL, xvi. 134.
* In the midsummer of 1244 twenty-four waggons full of Talmud
copies were burned in France (see Journal of Philology, xvi. 133).
A certain Donin (afterwards called Nicolaus), a converted Jew, by his
accusations against the Talmud, managed that Rabbi Yehiel of Paris
had to dispute with him publicly about its contents. The disputation
took place in the midsummer of 1240; and R. Yehiel came out of it
60 victoriously that only after four years* further machinations the
Talmud was actually burned. The disputation is printed under the
name of Disjruiatio cum Nicolao A. 1252 {\) habita cum Versions
Latina in Wagenseil's Tela Ignea Satanx (Altdorf, 1681, 4to) ; a less
incorrect Hebrew edition came out in 1873, Svo, at Thorn. This
event of burning the Talmud called forth three, elegies — (1) by R.
Binyamin b. Abraham De' Mansi, beginning D7W ri13t<, and the
refrain of which was niKSD nOSH 'K, NIDJl HJIVD <N (see MS;
Add. 374, Camb. Univ. Lib., leaves 307a-308a); (2) by R. Meir of
Rothenburg (sce.RosH), the beginning of which is !5'8<3 nCIIB' '7XB'
(in the Ashkeuaac ritual for the 9th of Ab) ; and (3) by R. Abraham
b. Yiahak (see Zunz, Zur Oesch. u. Lit, pp. 463—4). This Abraham
b. Yishak is the father of the famous En-bonet Abram Bederesi (not
Bedarshi'; see Schiller.Szinessy, Catal., L correction 5), the author of
t]\6 Behinaih 'Olam.
' See Schiller^Sanessy in the Academy, 1878, p. 171, and extract
from Excursus iii. (to the Catalogue) on the Palestinian Talmud in
Occasional Notices, kc, i., Cambridge, 1S78, 8vo.
* See the before-mentioned Occasional JVotices.
' Rabbenu Nathan b. Yehiel b. Abraham was, on his father's sidq
an 'Anav (131)) — and not an 'Akko (ISJT) as Rapoport, no doubt alter
Ibn Yahya, writea it in BikJcure Ba'ittim. x. 7 — i.e., of the family
'Anavim' (Dei Uanai, Dei Mansueti, Dei Fiatelli, Dei Pietosi, Dei
38
TALMUD
grammar, and this only for the Babylonian Talmud, was made by
the late learned S. D. Luzzatto. It exists in Italian (Padua, 1865),
German by Kniger (Breslau, 1873), English by Goldammer (New
York. 1876), and Hebrew by Lerner (St Petersburg, 1880). Of
more value, however, is Noldeke's Mandaitic Grammar, although
it stands in connexion with the Babylonian Talmud only in an
indirect way. (c) Cominintanes. — Commentaries on the greater por-
tion of the Babylonian Talmud are extant, by the famous Rabbenu
Hananeel of Kairwan, the teacher of RiPU (q.v), by Rasbi (q v.),
and by the descendants and disciples of this latter commentator,
who composed the Tosapholh. All these are included in the latest
Talmud edition of Vilna. It is asserted by Rabad II. [q.v.) that
the whole (B. ) Talmud had been commented on in Arabic. As
regards the commentaries on the Palestinian Talmud, it ought to
be said that the Pcne MosheK &c. , by R Mosheh Margaliyyoth,
and the Korban Hdedah, &c., by R. David Frankel (the teacher of
Mendelssohn), make more than one commentary on the whole, and
tliey are embodied m the Zliitomir edition (1860-67). (rf) Method-
ology. — Among the many Introductione to the Babylonian Talmud
that of R Shcmuel Hannagid must now be considered the first,
not only in time but also in value. There was indeed an earlier,
and perhaps a still more valuable one in existence (see Saadia),
but it is now unfortunately lost. As regards the Palestinian
Talmud, the only one in existence is that by the late Z. Frankel
(Breslau, 1870, 8vo). The author was a most learned man, but
somewhat confused in his diction, (e) TranMalicma. — Renderings
of isolated treatises of the Babylonian Talmud exist in Latin,
Ugolim, Thesaurus, xix., Zebahivi and ^leiiahoth, and xxv.,
Synhedrfn;^ in French, e.g., Scrakhoth, by Chiarini (Leipsic, 1831,
Umani, Dei Umili). and, on his mother's side, of the Tappuhim, i.e.,
De Pomis, to which the celebrated author of the Lexicon Semah David
belonged. Rabbenu Nathan's father and grandfather, lUie Rabbenu
Nathan himself .iml his brother's descendants, were, no doubt, papal
court Jews (and not hnendrapers, as the latest editor of the 'Arukh,
by misreading and misinterpreting the somewhat hard verses of his
author, contrives to show). This lucrative position furnished them with
ample means not oidy for their noble charities to congregational insti-
tutions (a synagogue, religious bath, &c.), but also with the leisure
necessary for the pursuit of Talmudic studies. Rabbenu Nathan was
Tcsh kailah (rector of the Jewish university), and unquestionably
the greatest Talraudist, even as he was the poorest Hebrew poet, in
Italy m the 11th and 12th centuries. As regards his teachers we
know four, three of whom he attended, whilst he studied and digested
the works of the fourth so well that, though personally unknown to
one another, they may be justly called master and disciple. His first
teacher was his own father; his second teacher, from whom Rabbenu
• Nathan no doubt obtained his thorough knowledgo of Babylonian
habits, was R. Masliah of Sicily, who bad been a hearer of the greatest
" gaon " of Pumhadilha ; his third teacher was R. Mosheh b. Ya'akob b.
Mosheh b. Abbun of Narborme (or Toulouse ; better known under the
name of R. Mosheh Haddarshan); and the fourth was Rabbenu Han-
aneel of Kairwan. He owed so much to this teacher that as soon as
tb'e ' Arukh had appeared most people took it for granted that Rabbenu
Hananeel had lived at Rome, and accordingly called him *'a man of
Rome— 'Ish Romi", see MS. Brit Mus. Add. 27,201, leaf 73J, and
Tosapholh, passim (That Rabbenu Gershom, Rabbenu Mosheh 'D1D3,
and others were his teachers, as Rapoport, foe. ci7.,. asserts, is a 5c-
tion. ) Rabbenu Nathan, in his 'Anikh, does not merely explain the
foreign (i,«., Aramaic, Persian, Greek, Latin, and Arabic) words occur-
ring in the Targums, Talmuds, and Midrashim, but the subject-matter
also, and thereby proves himself a doubly useful guide. In thus, al-
though he had been preceded by no less a personage than the Oaim
Semah b- Paitoi (fl. 870), who also composed such an '/4njjM. Rabbenu
Nathan was virtually the first, as the Oaon's work had been early
lost. The assertion that the fourth of the four men captured by the
Spanish admiral (see below, p. 39) was R. Nathan Habbabli, that he
lived in Narbonne, and that he also composed a similar '^ruiA, rests
on a misunderstanding, as the quotation in the Yohusin clearly shows.
The passages there given under R. Nathan Habbabii are taken verbatim
from the 'Arukh of our author (compare the article CJE^, &c.). That
Rome has been at times called in Jewish writings "Babel," and that
consequently Hahbahh may mean "the Roman," is clear from the
writings of the New Testament. We will only add here a few words
conccrmng the bibliography of the book. Of the 'Arukh exist so far
ten editions, the first of which came out undated, but before or about
1480. The seventh edition was enriched by the physician R. Binyarain
Musaphia's Musaph, i.e., Addilamenta (Musaphia was a Greek and
Latin scholar), and the latest edition by Dr Kohut is now m progress.
As regards the MSS. of this remarkable lexicon the best copies are to
be found partly in the University Library, Cambridge (Add. 376,
wliioh has all the verses of the author and addilamenta by R Shemuel
l"n VOJ. and Add. 471-72), and partly at the Court Library, Vienna
(I'od cvi. 1 and 2). The latter were earned off by Napoleon L to
P.iris in 1309, but in 1815 were returned to Vienna.
' Vanoas writers assert that there exist many books containing
Latin translations of various treatises of the Babyloman Talmud.
8vo); and in German, e.g., Berakluith, by Rabe (HaUi'. 1777, 4to),
regard being had also in both to the same treatise of the Palestiniao
recension, and again by Pinner (1842) . Baija Men a, by .Sammter
(1876), both at Berlin and in folio; 'Abodah Zamh.' k:y EwalJ
(Nuremberg. 1856, 8to) ; Ta'anith, by Straschun (Hal.t, 1883);
Mcgillah and Rosh Hasshmnah, by Rawicz (Frankfort-onthe-Main,
1884 and 1886). Tlie assertion that the whole of this Talmud has
been translated into Spanish has yet to be proved. As regards the
Palestinian Talmud, Ugolini's Thesaurus contains the following
treatises in Latin ; — Pesahim(vo\. xvii.); Shekahm, Yoma, Sukkah,
Rosh Basshanah, Ta'anUh. Megillah, Hagigah, Be^h, Mdcd Kalan
(vol. xviii. ) ; Ma'aseroth, Mdaser Sheni, Hallah, 'Orlah, Bikkurim
(vol. XX.); Synhcdrin, Makkoth (vol. xxv.); Kiddushin, Sotah,
Kelhuboth (vol. xxx. ). M. Schwab (of the Bibliothcque Nationale,
Paris) has undertaken a French translation of the entire Palestiniao
Talmud, which is now in progress . from this Berakhoth has been
translated into English (London, 1886, 4to).
Editions. — The editions of the Palestinian Talmud, in what was
then called its entirety, are only four: — (a) Venice, 1523, without
any commentary, (i) Cracow, 1609, with a short commentary, the
text apparently from a diiferent MS. from that used for the editio
princcps, (c) Krotoschin, 1866, with a short commentary differing
from that of Cracow: these three editions are each comprised in
one volume, {d) the fourth edition came out at Zhitomir, with
commentaries by different men (see Coinmeutancs above). All these
editions are in folio. Of the editions of isolated treatises, which are
not a. few, we will only mention those of Berakhoth (Vienna, 1874)
and Peah and Demai (Breslau, 1875, both in 4to), with a new com-
mentary by Z. Frankel. The editions of the Babylonian Talmad
are so numerous that they would require several entire sheets for
enumeration. There is iii existence an approximately good treatise
on them (see Varise. Lecticnies, vols. L and viii.). We will only
name three of the entire editions : — (1) the editio princeps, Venice,
1520-23,^ — which, though disfigurea by numerous misprints, waa
not mutilated by the censor; (2) the edition of Basel (1678-81),
which omits 'Abodah Zarah altogether, and has a cheering (?) notice
in Latin;' (3) the latest edition, now printing at Vilna, with old
commentaries hitherto unpublished- Of isolated treatises, which
may be counted by more than hundreds, we will only mention one
(the Portuguese of at least Berakhoth), tho existence of whieh waa
asserted in the last century {Pahad Yishak, s. v. Nn"inn03 ^<3]}),
then again called in question in our own times, but positively proved
by the present writer from an early work composed at the time
when but few editions of the Talmud existed. It is the Zenf
Abraham (Camb. MS. Ti. 6, 60 leaf 59;/). Materials for the critical
edition of the Babylonian Talmud from an ancient MS. formerly in
the monastery of Pfersee, but now in the Royal Library of Munich,
and other MSS. and early prints of isolated treatises in various
public and private libraries of Europe, Asia, and Africa, have been
collected and are being published by Rabbiuovicz. Of this import
ant work fifteen volumes, containing the following treatises, nave
already come out. — the vj\io\Q Seder Zera'Tm (1867), Besah, Bagigah^
Mdcd Kalan (1869); Sukkah, Tdamth (1870); Rosh Hasshanah,
yo;na'(1871); ' Erubin (1873); P^aAim (1874); Shabbalh (1875);
Megillah, Shekahm (1877); Syvhedrin (1878); Abodah Zarah,
Makkolh, Shebiioth, Borayoth, ' Eduyyoth (1879); Baba Bathra
(1881) , Baba Kamma (1882); Baba Mesi'a (1883); Zebahim (1884);
Menjiholh (1886).* AU these were printed in 8vo and at Munich,
except vol. ix., which came out at Mainz.
Influence of the Talmud. — It must be admitted by every
critical student of history that the Talmud has not merely
been the means of keeping alive the religious idea among
the Jews, but has formed their strongest bond of union.
When, after the fall of the city of Jerusalem and it« temple,
and the expatriation of the Jews from Palestiue, a goodly
portion of the Mosaic law lost its application, the Talmud
became the spirit which put fresh life into the letter which
Upon examination these books turn out to contain either a transla-
tion ouly of Mislmic treatises with oi without excerpta from, and
with or without schoba on, Oemara, or disputations which introduce
small pieces of Oemara. "The utmost they contain is a chapter or two
tran.slated from Oemara itself (as, for example, " Edzard, AbodaSara,'*
&c., Hamburg, 1705-10, 4to. which contains Oemara of the first tw9
Pera^:im).
' 'The paging of this has been followed in all subsequent editions.
' Nunc ab omnibus 'iis quae contra religionem Christianara facie*
bant recogoitum, et juxta mentem Sacri concilii Tridentini expurga-
turn et approbatum, ut non modo citra impietatem verum etiam cam
fnictu a nostris legi possit.
* The notes in the first fonrtecn volumes go under the name of
.D'TDID '"I3T , whilst those of -the fifteenth volume have the title of
DmDt<7 "113T, in memory of the late Abraham Merzbacher, who not
merely proved the Maecenas of this publication during- his lifetime,,
but left a considerable sum for its continuation and completion.
TAM-TAM
SiJ
hki become to a great extent dead. Moreover, by the Tal-
mud, the interpretation of which was chiefly in the hands
of the academies of Sura and Pumbaditha, the Jews of alJ
the world found, if not a new Jerusalem, at least a new
Yabneh (Jamnia), i.e., a place where the old learning was
not merely continued, but made to shine with a yet greater
splendour. This fact will be the more readily acknow-
ledged and appreciated when one casts a glance at the
miserable religious condition of the Karaites, the so-called
Scriptural Jews.
Transference of Talmvdu Leamtng from the East to the
West. — There naturally came a time when Talraudic learn-
ing, if it was to maintain its influence upon the Jews,
could not be conflned to one spot. We have seen under
Rashi (q.v.) that the great emperor of the West (Charle-
magne) had been the means, towards the close of the 8th
century, of bringing learned Talmudtsts not only to Pro-
vence but to the north of France and the south of Ger-
many.' But when nearly two hundred years later the
academies of Babylonia were threatened with extinction
(because of their lacking, from various causes, the means
of subsistence), so that they had to send out members of
their body to supplicate the support oF their richer brethren
in other countries, it providentially happened that the four
men whom they sent were taken by a Spanish corsair
admiral and sold in four diS'erent slave-markets. Rabbi
Shemaryah was sold at Alexandria, and was redeemed by
the Jews, and great was their astonishment when they recog-
nized in him a most able Talmudist. He became the head
of the Cairo community, and one of the most successful
Jewish Talmud teachers Egypt ever had. Rabbi Husshiel
■was taken to Kairwan, in Africa. There the Jews redeemed
him ; and when his great learning was found out he was
named the spiritual head of the Jews in that place. From
the school which he founded sprang not merely bis own son,
the famous Rabbenu Hananeel, but also the great Rabbenu
Nissim, both teachers of Rlph [q-v.). Another learned cap-
tive, R. Mosheh, was brought to the slave-market of Cor-
dova, the rabbi of which town, a noble and rare_ example
of unselfishness, modesty, and love of truth, placed the
ragged stranger who had only been ransomed for charity's
sake a day or so before at the head of the community
instead of himself The name of the fourth is unknown
(see Rabad II., and Yohasin, ed. Cracow, leaf 1 256). Some
assert that he Was R. Nathan Habbabli, and that he became
the teacher of the Jews in Narbonne^ but this is a mere
conjecture, the truth of which has yet to be proved .(see
page 37, footnote'). Be this, however, as it may, four
great Talmudists, who had come direct from the Babylonian
academies, became the means of bringing Babylonico-Tal-
mudic learning to places the Jews of which had been de-
pendent on the religious and literary crumbs that fell from
the richly laden tables of Sura and Pumbaditha. Some
years afterwards the former academy was closed, and a
short time afterwards the same fate befell that of Pumba-
ditha, the sunset of which, if not the noonlight, in the
persons of Rab Sherira Gaon and his son Rab Hal Gaon
was even more glorious than that of the sister academy,
the last " gaon " of which was Rab Shemuel b. Hophni,
father-in-law of Rabbenu Hal. Meanwhile, however, Tal-
mndic learning had not merely become naturalized, but
eventually indigenous in various parts of Africa, and pari
of Europe (Spain, Italy, Provence, the south of Germany,
and the north of France). Rabbenu Gershom b Yehudah
of Metz and his disciple Rabbenu Yishak of Troyes,
Rabbenu Ya'akob b. Yakar of Worms, Rabbenu Eli'ezer
Eaggadol and his disciple and successor Rabbenu Yishak
Segan Leviyyah, Rabbenu Yishak b. Yehudah of Mainz,
' Italy, Dotably Sicily, was apparently the country wliich obtained
ber teachers direct from Irak.
Rabbenu Elyakim of Spires, Rabbenu Nathan b. Yehiel
of Rome, and last but not least Rashi himself, and hi*
sons-in-law and other disciples, represented Talmudic learn-
ing in such perfection as had not been found before at
regards the Babylonian Talmud, even in the land of itt
birth and growth. It was the disciples' disciples of these
men who studied and taught in various towns of England
within a hundred years (1150) after the Conquest. When,
towards the end of the 13th century and the commence-
ment of the 14th, the Jews were driven out of England
(1290) and France (1306), and flocked chiefly to Italy,
Greece, Germany, and Poland, the last-named country
appropriated the lion's share of Talmudic learning, so
that till within our own century the rabbis of the chief
communities in Hungary, Moravia, Bohemia, and other
Austrian states, and in Germany, Holland, England, (tc,
had to be fetched from Poland. Talmudic learmng,'since
Mendelssohn and his school arose, threatened to die out
not merely among the Jews in Germany, but also among
those of the other countries where the Jews spoke the
German tongue in some form or other. Within the last
twenty-five years, however, fresh impulse has been given
to these studies, not merely among Jews but also among
Christians. (s. M. s.-s.)
TAM, commonly called Rabbenu Tam, more correctly
Rabbenu Tham (n"n=Dn »3i). By this title are
known two eminent Rabbinic scholars, both named
Ya'akob, to whom this epithet was given in allusion to
Genesis xxv. 27: "And Jacob was a peifect man" {Ish
Tam, Cn Bi'K). They belonged to the north of France,
lived in the 12th century, and .were master and pupU.
1. Rabbe^ju Ya'akob b. Meir b. Shemuel was, on his
mother's side, a grandson of Rashi (q.v.). He was his
parents' third son, younger brother of Ribam and Rashbam
\q.v.\ older brother of Rabbenu Shelomoh of Rameru,^ and
brother-in-law of Rabbenu Shemuel b. Simhah of Vitry the
younger' (the reputed author of the Mahzor Yitr^,* now
apparently lost '). Rabbenu Tham had, like his grand-
father Rashi, six teachers;— (1) his own father, (2) his
brother Ribam, (3) his brother Rashbam, (4) Rabbenu
Ya'akob b. Shimshon,* (5) his grandfather Rashi,' and (6)
Rabbenu Yoseph Tob- Elem the younger ^ Rabbenu Tham
had at least five children.* The names of three of his sons
were Yoseph,^" Yishak,^' and Shelomoh.'^ Rabbenu Tham
was unquestionably among Jews the foremost man of his
age. For not only was he the greatest Talmudist after
his maternal grandfather's death, but he also added reading
vride and varied to a stupendous memory and a marvellous
' See MS. Add. 27,200 in the Br. Mua., leaf 168ft.
* See Rashi's Siddur, L leaf lb.
* See Schiller-Stineuy, Catalogue, ii. p, 88.
' See art. RASm (toL zx p. 284, note 10).
* This rabbi was a diaciple of R. Shemuel Hallevl (see Schilitt*
Szinessy, Catal. , ii. p. 65, note 1 ) and of Rashi, and was not only a
great Talmudist, as were oil the disciples of the last-named eminent
teacher, but also a great mathematician and astronomer, though a
terribly bad poet Uis commentary on Aboth la in part printed, and
is to be found, more or less perfect, in vanous libranes in Europe,
although not recogni2ed as his. It is ascnbed variously to Rashi, to
Rashbam, and others. There are copies of it in Cambridge (Add.
1213; Add. 1623), Oxford (0pp. 317), the British Museum (Add.
27201), the Beth Hammidrash of the Ashkenazim In London, &c.
(The master of St John's, Cambridge, is preparing an edition of it.)
A work on intercalation by Rabbenu Ya'akob b. Shimshon exists in
MS. at the Bodleian (0pp. 317) under the name of Sepher Hadkoshi.
From him, no doubt, Rabbenu Tham imbibed his love for science.
On the fact that Rabbenu Ya'akob b. Shimshon was Rabbenu Tham'3
teacher (against Zunz), see SchiJIer-Szinessy, Catal., ii. p. 66, note,
' Rabbenu Thara, dying an old man, must have been from fourteeo
to sixteen years of age when Raslii died.
* See Sepher Ha'tyashar, § 620 (leaf 74o, col. 2).
» See Camb. MS. Add. 667, 1, leaf 646, col. 1
'» See Brit Mus. MS. Add. 27200, leaf 158i.
"See Sepher Uayyashar, § 604.
. " See Shibbole UaUeket (ed. Buber), p. 10.
40
T A" M — T A M
power of combination, such as appeared only'agMn in the
last century in the persons of R. Yehonathan Eybenschiitz
{ob. 1764) and R. Yehezkel Landau (ob. 1793). Let us
add that he was a lexicographer, grammarian, and Biblical
commentator of no mean order ; that he was a poet in
Hebrew and Aramaic ' inferior only to Ibn Gebirol
(AvicEBRON, q.i\), Mosheh Ibn "Ezra, and Yehndah Hallevi
(and by far greater in this art than the commentator
Abraham Ibn "Ezra); that he was held in high esteem hy
prince and nobles ;^ and that he was a man of greai wealth, |
with which he generously supported, not merely his own I
poorer hearers, but other itinerant scholars also.*
His works are the following;—
(1) C6mnientary on Job, and, nodoobt, on other parts of Iho
Bible Jsee Camb. Univ. Lib. MS. i/i 8. PS, leaves lb, ia, 11a,
126). All tliese arc apparently no* loa.t (2) Hakhrdoth, i.e.,
lexical and grammatical <Iecisiona between Menahem Ibn Seruk
and Dunash b Labrat (see Stphcr Teshubolh Dunash b, Labrat,
Edinburgh, 18S5, 8vo). That these "decisions" are really by
Rabbinu Tham 13 proved by the before-named MS., leaves 10<i and
16a, where the book is quoted by in anthor of the 13th century.
3) Sephcr Btitiyitskar (Vienna, 1810, folio). Although this work,
n its pro?rnt form, is the compilation of one of Rabbenu Tham's
lisciples. R. Yislialc b. Durbal by name (also called Isaac of Russia;
-ee Schilier-Szincssy, Catalogue, i. p. 164, and ii. p. 66), not only
s the foundation Sabbenn Tham's (see Preface), but the contents
also are virtually his. Compare the Cambridge MS. Add. 667. 1,
posrixi. (4) The gr?ater part of the Tosaphoih in the Babylonian
Talmud are indirectly also by Rabbenu Tham ; and he is Wrtu-
■illy the first Tosaphist It is true that -his father, his brother
Sashi^am {q.v.), and his uncle Rabbenu Yehudah b. Nathan had
■vritten Tosaphoih before him, and that this kind of literary acti-
vity lasted to within the first quarter of the 14th century. Still,
most and the best of the Tosaphoih now in our hands rest on
ilibbenu Tham and his school. (5) ifahior, i.e., a prayer-book,
Ac. for the whole year, with Rabbinic' ordinances, &c. See
Tc'Sinkolh on T. B., Berakhclh, leaf Z'a, catchword DDIDH, and
BiTckhoth Moharam of R. Meir b. Barukh of Rothenburg (Riva di
Trento, 1553. 8vo), leaf 4a. (6) Poems These are partly didactic
and partly liturgical. Of the former kind a specimen will be found
i"On the Accents," communicated by Halberstam) in Kobak's
Y'-^hurun, \. p. 125 sq. The liturgical poems, again, are of two
kinds : (a) such as have no metre and rhyme only by means of
plurals, possessive pronouns, and such like (rhymed prose), and
which perfectly resemble most of.^the productions of the Franco-
Ashkenazic school (see, for exampla, the facsimile in Muller's Cata-
lyjut, Amsterdam, 1S68, 8vo); Q>\ such as have metre and rhyme,
and resemble the productions of the Sepharadic school, e.g., the
one beginning 'rPO ^^ '" (and not 13 ; see MS. Add. 667, leaf
(02a). (7) Various ordinances, kc, are to be found in later writers
I'-ee MS Add. 667, in Ombridge, passim, and Teshubolh Maharam,
Prague. 1608, fouo. § 1023, &c.). Rabbenu Tham died in 1171 ;
see Rashi's SidduT, il (formerly Luzzatto's, then Halberstam's, and
now the property of the master of St John's College, Cambridge),
leaf 43a.
2. Rabbenct Ya'akob of Orleans, rabbi of London (J).
He is often quoted in the Tosaphoih (both on the Penta-
teuch and on -the Babylonian Talmud). No independent
works of his, however, are extant. He was killed at
London in the tumult on the coronation day of Richard
Coeur-de-Lion (September 3, 1 189 ; Schiller-Szinessy, Calal.,
I p. 117). (s, M. s.-s.)
TAMAQUA, a borough of Schuylkill county, Pennsyl-
vania, United States,, in a broken, hilly country, upon the
' See hi3 Yesih PUhgam (in the Ashkenazic ritual; it is intro-
ductory to the prophetic lesson for the second day of Pentecost).
If we have the correct reading of that poem there, flabbenu Thara
rouel have been a Levite ; aud if so, the Shemuel Halle\i mentioned
by R Yaakob b Shimshoa as his teacher, in the Cambridge MS.
Add. 1213, leaf 276, is very possibly ^Rabbenu Tbam's paternal
grandfather
' See SijiheT JTayyashar. § 595 (leaf 6.7a, col. 1), and § 6:0 (1st)
in jine. To this high ^wsition it is no doubt to be ascribed that his
life waa saved by a knight during the second rrusiade, ir. which the
whole cocp-egation of Rameru was reduced to beggary, after many of
fts riembers had been ruthlessly slain.
* For example, the poverty. stricken" Abraham Ibn 'Ezra, to whom
he not only gave r.ioncy but kind words also, in good verses i,Kerem
Be- ^d, vil. p. 35)
For other metrical poems by Rabbenu Tham. see Zunz, Literature.
AtS..-i. f'ai::t .Etriin. 1865. 8vo), p. 266.
Little'SchnylkillTiTer,' 9? miles Dearly north of 'Phil-
adelphia. Jilt is in the midst of the anthracite coal region,
and coal mining is one of its principal interests. It is
an important railroad centre, npon the Philadelphia and
Reading system, being the point of intersection of three
main lines and the terminus of several minor branches-
The borough had a pcpnlation of 5960 in 1870 and of 5730
ia 18S0.
TA3IARIWD. This name U popularly applied to the
pods of a Leguminous tree, wh.oh are hard externally, but
within filled with an acid juicy pulp containing sugar and
various acids, such as citric and tartaric, in combination
with potash.' The acid pulp is uied as a laxative and a
refrigerant, the pods being largely imported both from the
East and the West Indies. The tree is now widely distri-,
buted in tropical countries, but it is generally considered
that its native country is in eastern tropical Africa, from|
Abyssinia southward to the Zambesi, ijir Ferdinand vori>
Mueller notes that it is truly wild in tropical Australia.;
The name (meaning in Arabic "Indian date') shows that
it entered mediseval commerce from India, where it is used,"
not only for its pulp, but for its seeds, which arp astringent,*
its leaves, which furnish a yellow or a red dye, and its
timber. The tree {Tamanndus indica, L.) attains a height
of 70 to 80 feet, and bears elegant pinnate foliage and
purplish or orange veined flowers arranged in lerrainal
clusters. The flower-tube bears at its summit four Fepals,'i
but only three petals and three perfect stamen's, with
indications of six others. The .stamens, with the cialked
ovary, are curved away from the petals at their ba.e. \ii;t
are directed towards them at their apices. The &nlheri»
and the .stigmas are thus brought into such a position as to
obstruct the passage of an insect attracted by the brilliantly-
coloured petal, the inference of course being that insects
are necessary for the fertilization of the flower.
TAM.\RISK. The genus Tamarur gives its name to
a small group of shrubs or low trees constituting the
tamarisk family. The species of tamarisk and of the very
closely allied genus Myrjcaria grow in salt deserts, by the
sea-shore, or in other more or less sterile localities in south
temperate, subtropical, and tropical regions of the eastern
hemisphere. Their long slender branches bear very num-
erous small appressed leaves, m which the evaporating
surface is reduced to a minimum. The flowers are minute
and numerous, in long clusters at the ends of the branches
or from the vi-unk. f'ach has 4-6 free sepals, and as
many petals springing with the 4-12 stamens from a fleshy
disk. In Tamanjc the stamens are free, while in Myri.-ry'-ia
they are united into one parcel. The free ovary is one-'
celled, with basal placfintas, and surmounted by 3-5 styles.
The fruit is capsular, and contains numerous seeds, each
usually with a long tuft of hairs at one end. The great
value of these shrubs or trees lies in their ability to with-
stand the effects of drought and a salme soil, in consequence
of which they grow where little else c<tn flourish. It is
on this account that the common' tamarisk, T. galHca, is
planted on our sea-coasts, and affords shelter where none
other could be provided. The light feathery appearance of
the branches, and the pretty rose-.coloured flowers, render
it also an elegant and attractive shrub, very different in
character from most others.
Some species produce galls, valued for their tannin, while
the astringent bark of others has been valued for medicinal
purposes. The ashes of the plant, when grown near the
sea, are said to contain soda ; but, when cultivated "nland
or on sweet soil, they are, it is alleged, free from soda.
For tamarisk manna, see JIanna, vol. xv p 493
TAMBOFF, one of the largest and most fertile govern'
ments of central Russia, extends from nortll to soufb
^r--(^nn thn 'u«,fiiQs of tb« Oka aiul the Don, And h&ei
i
T A M— T A M
41.
Vladimir and Nijni-Novgorod on the N., Penza and Sara-
toff on die E., the Don Cossacks and Voronezh on the S.,
Tula and Ryazan on the W. It consists of aa undulating
plain intersected by deep ravines and broad valleys, rang-
ing between 450 and 800 feet above sea-leveL Chalk
and Jurassic deposits, thickly covered by bonlder-clay and
loess, are widely spread over its surface, concealing the
underlying Devonian and Carboniferous deposits. These
last appear only in the deeper ravines, and seaois of coal
have been noticed at several places. Iron ore (in the
north-west), limestone, cl|iy, and gypsum are obtained for
building and manufacturing purposes ; traces of naphtha
h<>ve been discovered at Tamboff. The mineral waters of
L:petok, siaiiiar to those of FranzeLsbad in tL r.r alkaline
elements, aoi chalybeate like those of PirD2ri.,i and Spa,
sre well known in Russia. Tamboff is watered by the
tr.butaries of the Oka and the Don. T'-e Oki itself only
touches the northwest corner of the govemm:nt, but its
tributaries, the Moksha and the Tsna, ar? important
channels of tratSc. The Don also only touch j3 Tamboff,
and of its affluents only the Voronezh and the Khoper and
its tributary the Vorona are at all navigable. .-Vs a whole.
It is only in the north that Tanaboff is well watered ; in its
southern part, which is exposed to the in8uenco of the dry
south eastern winds, the want of moisture is much felt,
especially in the district of Borisoglyebsk, which belongs
to the dry steppes of the lower Volga.
Tte climate U contineDtal, and, aItbo.igh the avernge tempera-
tore at TacboffU 42' F., the winter is comparstivrly cold (Janu-
ary, 13°; July, 68°). The rivers remain frozen for four months
and a half. Forests occupy less than one-sixth of rhs total area,
and occur chiefly in the west ; in the sooth-east wood is scarce,
and straw is resorted to for fuel. The soil is fertile throughout ; in
the north, indeed, it is clayey and sometimes Eaodv, hut the rest
of the government is covered with a sheet, 2 to 3 fecr in thickness,
of the most fertile UheTTioztm^ of such richness, indeed, that in
Borisoglyebsk com-fields which have not been ascuied for eighty
years still yield good crops.
Tamboff is one of the densely peopled provinces of Russia. Its
population in 18S3 reached 2,519,660, and in se-fral districts
(Kozloff, Lebedyajl, Li^-etsk) there are from UO to 1*0 inhabitants
per square mile. It is Great Russian in the centril portion, but
has a notable admixture of Mokdvi.sians (j.c) a:: I Mescheriaks
in the west and north-west, as also of Tartars; the Mordvinians
(who are rapidly becoming Russified) constitute 4 per cent of the
aggregate population of Tamboff; the Tartars number about 20,000,
and the Mescheriaks about 4000. Konconformity is widely spread,
although the official fimres disclose only 14,300 Raskolniks. Not-
withstanding a high birth-rate (45 in the thousand), the annual
increase of population is but slow (0'5 per cent, annv.ally).
The prevailing occupation is agriculture, and in 1883 only
168,200 persons bad their residence in towns, which are mostly
themselves nothing but large villagesof agriculturists living together,
with a few merchants. More than two-thirds of th; area is arable,
and of this proportion 53 per cent, belongs to peasant communities,
36 per cent, to private individuals, and 11 per ceDt. to the crown.
The crops of the years 1883 to 1885 )-ielded on the average 8,885,000
quarters of grain (half being rye, and one-third cats). Com is
exported to a considerable extent from the sooth, although it is
<leficient in the north. Hemp and linseed are also cultivated for
exportation. The cultivation of tobacco is yearly increasing:
5220 acres were nnder this crop in 1885, and yielded nearly 50,000
cwts. la the same year 15,950 acres were undt.: beetroot, and
yielded 1,660,000 cwts. CattlS-breeding, though less extensively
carried on than formerly, is still important (656,300 horses, 399.600
homed cattle, and 1,325,600 sheep in 1883). Excellent breeds
of horses are met with, not only on the larger estates, but also in
the hands of the wealthier peasants, those of tl.e Bityug river
being most esteemed. ^ Manufactures are repi-eset ted chiefly by
'il-tilieries, tallow-melting works, sugar-vrorks, s'd a few woollen-
t.lc>th mills. The petty trades are not very extensively carried on in
the villages. Commerce is very brisk, owin^ to the large amounts
of core exported, — Kozloff, Morshansk. Tamboff, and Borisoglyebsk
^i^T the chief centres for this traffic, and LebedyaiS for the trade
m hcrsea and cattle. Tamboff is rather backward educationally ;
in 1883 there were only 629 schools, attended by 34,739 boys and
6680 ^Irli The government is divided into twelve districts, the
chief tov-cs of which, with their populations in 1534, are Tamboff
(34.000 inhabitants), Borisoglyebsk (13,C00), Elatma (7560), Kii^
»anoff{7770), Katlcff i27,90O). Lebe^iJi (f^Jf), Lipetsk (15,860),
Morshansk (21,200), Shatsk (7280),. Spa^ (5010\ Temnikofr
(13,700), and Usnmfi(8110 in 185"',. A distinctive feature of Tam-
boff is its very large villages of crown-peasants, a dozen of vliirh
have from 5000 to 7000 inhabitants each. Several of them— like
Raskazovo (a great centre of NoL^unfoiuiity), Atabukhi, Saso»o,-
Izberdei, and Arkhangelskoye — are important commercial cenirea
The region now included in the north of the governmcit va*
settled by Russians during the earliest centuries of the princip<i!:'y
of Moscow, but until the end of the l?th century the fertile tracts
to the south remained too insecure for settlers. In the followii;»
century a few immigrants began to :ome in fron: the steppe, aca
landowners who had received large gnnts of land .is giits of tho
czars began to bring their serfs from central Russia. The ^puia-
tion has very rapidly increased within the present century.
TAMBOFF, capital of the a'-'-ve goTernmeDt, 300 miles
distant from Moscow, is situalc 1 on the Tsna river, an'i
on the railway from Kozloff to Sara'cS. It is almosi
entirely built of wood, with broad unpavel streets, line J
with low hotises surrounded by gardens. It has a sma!
public library, a theatre, and the few educational institu-
tions which are usual in the chief towns of Russian pro-
vinces. Its manufactures are insignificant ; and its trade,
in local grain and in cattle purchased in the south and sent
to Moscow, is far less important than that of Morshansk
or Kozloff. The population in 1884 was 34,000.
TAMERLANE. See Timur.
TAMILS. The word Tamil (properly Tamil) has been
identified with Dravida, the Sanskrit generic appellatioQ
for the South Indian peoples and their languages ; and
the various stages through which the word has passed —
Dramida, Dramila, Damila — have been finally discussed
by Bishop Caldwell in his Comp/i rative Grammar of Oie
Dravidian Languages {2d ed., 1875, p. 10 sq.), end tia
derivation has recently been endorsed by Col. Yule and Dj
Burnell in their Gtossari/ (p. 2516). The identificatita
was first suggested by Dr Graul {Reiie nock Osiindien,
voL iii., 1854, p. 349), and then adverted to by Dr G.
U. Pope {Tamil Handbook, 1859, Introduction) and Dr
Gundert {Malaydlma Dictionary, 1872, t.v.). It should,
however, be mentioned that the former prefers now to take
the word Tamil to be a corruption of tenmoli, southern
speech, in contradistinction to mdugu, the northern, \.t.,
Telugu language. As in the case of the Kafir, Turkish,
Tagala, and other typical languages, the term Tamulic or
Tamnlian has occasionally been employed as the designation
of the whole class of Dravidian peoples and languages, of
which it is only the most prominent member. The present
article deals with Tamil in its restricted sense only.
The Tamils, taken as the type and representatives of th-j
Dravidian race, do not now, owing to early intermixture
with the Aryan immigrants, materially differ in physical
character from the other curly-haired indigenous popula-
tion of India. They were at one time, on the ground of
the general structure of their language, classed with the
Mongoloid (Turanian, Scythian) and even the Australian
races, but that classification b rejected by all the leading
ethnologists. They form, in fact, with the other mem-
bers of the group, a separate and distinct family, which
is of the dolichocephalic class, and comes near the Indo-
European or Aryan type , while there are scattered
remnants of a still earlier population ofe India (Mundaa,
Kolarians), whose race characteristics, however, do not so
essentially differ from those of the Dravidians as to con
stitute them a class by themselves. The Tamib proper
are smaller and weaker-built than the Europeans, thoUfih
more graceful in shape. Their physical appearance \s
described as follows: — a pointed and frequently hooked
pyramidal nose, with conspicuous nares, niore long than
round ; a marked sinking in of the orbital line, produci:ig
a strongly defined orbital ridge ; hair and eyes black , the
latter, varying from small to middle-sized, have a peculixn
sparkle and a look of calculation , moufh large, lips thick
XXII I. — 6
.42
TAMILS
and frequently turgid; lower jaw not heavy, its lateral
expansion greater than in the Aryan and less than in the
Turanian type, giving to the middle part of the face a
marked development and breadth, and to the general
contour an obtuse oval shape, somewhat bulging at the
sides ; forehead well-formed, but receding, inclining to
flattish, and seldom high ; occiput somewhat projecting ;
beard considerable, and often strong ; colour of skin very
dark, frequently approaching to black (Manual of the
Administration of the Madras Presidency, Madras, 1885,
voL i., Introd., p. 36 ; see also Caldwell, Comparative
Grammar of the Dravidian Languages, 1875, pp. 558-79).
The Tamils have many estimable qualities, — frugality,
patience, endurance, politeness, — and they are credited
with astounding memories ; their worst vices are said to be
lying and lasciviousness. Of all the South-Indian tribes
they are the least sedentary and the most enterprising.
Wherever money is to be earned, there will Tamils be
found, either as merchants or in the lower capacity of
domestic servants and labourers. The tea and coffee
districts of Ceylon are peopled by about 800,000 ; Tamils
aerve as coolies in the Slauritius and the West Indies. In
Burmah, the Straits, and Siam the so-called Klings are all
Tamils (Graul, Rcise. nach Oslindien, Leipsic, 1855, vol.
iv. pp. 113-212).
Language. — The area oic? which Tamil is spoken
extends from a few miles north of the city of Madras to
the extreme south of the eastern side of the peninsula,
throughout the country below the Ghits, from Pulicat to
Cape Comorin, and from the Gh,lts to the Bay of Bengal,
including also the southern portion of Travancore on the
western side of the GhAts and the northern part of
Ceylon. According to the census of 1881, the number
of Tamil-speaking people throughout the province was
12,413,517, inclusive of 21,992 Yerkalas, 3843 Kurumbas,
and 287 Irulas, three tribes speaking rude dialects of the
language. To these should be added about 160,000 in
the French 'possessions. But, as of all the Dravidian
languages the Tamil shows the greatest tendency to
spread, its area becomes ever larger, encroaching on that
of the contiguous languages. Tamil is a sister of Malay-
alma, Telugu, Canarese, Tulu, Kudagu, Toda, Kota, Gond,
khond (Ku), Uraon, Rajmahal, Keikadi, and Brahui, the
nine last-named being uncultivated tongues ; and, as it
is the oldest, richest, and most highly organized of the
Dravidian languages,-it may be looked upon as typical of
the family to which it belongs. The one nearest akin to
it is Malayalma, which originally appears to have been
simply a dialect of Tamil, but differs from it now both in
pronunciation and in idiom, in the retention of Old-Tamil
forms obsolete in the modern language, and in having
discarded all personal terminations in the verb, the person
being always indicated by the pronoun (F. W. Ellis,
Dissertation on the Malaydlma Language, p. 2 ; Gundert,
MaltyAlma Dictionary, Introd. ; Caldwell, Comparative
Gr., Introd., p. 23 ; Burnell, Specimens of South Indian
Dialects, No. 2, p. 13). Also, the proportion of Sanskrit
words in Malayalma is greater, while in Tamil it is less,
than in any other Dravidian tongue. This divergence
between the two languages cannot be traced farther back
than about the 10th century ; for, as it appears from the
Cochin and Travancore inscriptions, previous to that period
both languages were still substantially identical ; whereas
in the Rdmacharitam, the oldest poem in Malayajraa,
composed probably in tho 13th century, at any rate long
before the arrival of the Portuguese send the introduction
of the modern character, we see that language already
formed. The modern Tamil characttrt originated " in a
Brahraanical adaptation of the old Grantha letters corre-
sponding to the so-called Vatteluttu." or round-hand, an
alphabet once in vogue throughout the whole of the'
Pandyan kingdom, as well as in the South Malabar and
Coimbatore districts, and still sparsely used for drawing
up conveyances and other legal instruments (F. W. Ellis,
Dissertation, p. 3). It is also used by the Mappilas in
Tellicherry. The origin of the Vatteluttu itself is still a
controverted question. The late Dr Burnell, the greatest
authority on the subject, has stated his reasons for tracing
that character through the Pehlevi to a Semitic source
{Elements of South Indian Paleography, 2d ed., 1878,
pp. 47-52, and plates xvii. and xxxii.). In the 8th
century the Vatteluttu existed side by side and together
with the Grantha, an ancient alphabet still used through-
out the Tamil country in writing Sanskrit. During the
four or five centuries after the conquest of Madura by the
Cholas in the 11th it was gradually superseded in the
Tamil country by the modern Tamil, while in Malabar it
continued in general use down to the end of the 17tb
century. But the earliest works of Tamil literature, such
as the Tolkdppiyam and the Rural, were still written in
it. The modern Tamil characters, which have but little
changed for the last 500 years, differ from all the other
modern Dravidian alphabets both in shape and in their
phonetic value. Their angular form is said to be due to
the widespread practice of writing with the style resting
on the end of the left thumb-nail, while the other alpha-
bets are written with the style resting on the left side of
the thumb.
The Tamil alphabet is sntBciently well adapted for the expression
of the twelve vowels of the language (a, d, t, f, u, <2, e, (, o, 6, ei, au),
— the occasional sounds of o and ii, both short and long, being
covered by the signs for c, i, i, t; but It is utterly inadequate
for the propeh expression of the consonants, inasmuch as the one
character k has to do duty also for kh, g, gh, and similarly each
of the other surd consonants ch, (, t, p represents also the .re-
maining three letters of its respective class. The letter k has,
besides, occasionally the sound of h, and ch, that of s. Each o(
the five consonants k, ch, t, t, p has its own nasal. In addition
to the four semivowels, the Tamil possesses a cerebral r and 1,
and has, iu common with the Malayalma, retained a liquid t,
once peculiar to all the Dravidian languages, tho sound of which
is so difficult to fix graphically, and varies so much in different
districts, that it has been rendered in a dozen difTercnl ways
[Manual of the Administration of the Madras Presidency, vol. ii.
p. 20 sq.). Fr. JIuller is probably correct in approxim.iting it to
that of tlie Bohemian r. There is, lastly, a peculiar n, dilfering in
function but not in pronunciation from tho dent.al n. The three
sibilants and h of Sanskrit have no place in the Tamil aljihahet ,
but ch often does duty as a sibilant in writing foreign words, and
the four corresponding letters as well as^' and ksh of the Grantha
alphabet are now frequently called to aid. It is obvious thai
many of tho Sanskrit words imported into Tamil at various periods
{Caldwell, foe. dt., Introd., pp. 86 sq.) have, iu consequence of the
incongruity of the Sanskrit and Tamil notation of their respective
phonetic systems, assumed disguises under which the original is
scarcely recognizable : examples are ulagu (lolia), uruvam (riipa),
arukken (arka), arputam (adbhutam). natcktUtiram (nakshatrara),
irudi (rishi), lirkiim (dirgha), arasni (rajan). Uesides the Sanskrit
ingredients, which appear but sparsely in tlie old poetry, Tamil
has borrowed from Hindustani, Arabic, and Persian a largo number
of revenue, political, and judicial terms, and more recently a good
many English words have crept in, such as tiratti, treaty, potior,
butler. Mi, act, kuUb, club, kavarjiar, governor, pinnolkdJu. penal
code, stkku, sick, mejastirattu, magistrate. But, as compared with
its literary sister languages, it has preserved its Dravidian character
singularly free from foreign influence. Of Tamil words which have
found a permanent home in English may be .mentioned curry
(kari), mulligatawny {mitagu, pepper, and tanntr. cool water),
cheroot (suruUa), pariah (pareiyan). ....
The laws of euphony (avoiding of hiatus, softening of initial
consonants, contact of final with initial consonants) are far more
complicated in Tamil than in Sanskrit. But, while they were
rigidly adhered to iu the old poetical language (Sen-Tamil), there
is a growing tendency to neglect them in the language of the
present day (Kodun-Tamil) It is trne the Tamil rules totally
Siller from tho prevailing Sanskrit ; still the probability 'is in favour
of a Sanskrit influence, inasmuch as they appear to follow Sansknt
models. Thus, iru( nikkiJidn. becomes iruntkkindn ; pon piUiram,
porpdUiram; vtl((il karuUn, viiffiT kandin; vdlsininm, vdMrumn;
palan tanddn, palanranddn. Noun* wo divided into high-c»8te
TAMILS
45
or personal an J lovv.»;astc or iin|'ci>-«t>ril. --tlio lornicr comprising
wor4s for rational b.'iii'^, the lattir alt the rest Only id high-
caste DOitns a distinction between in;uiciiliiie and feDiinine is
observed in the singular, both have a common plural, which is
indicated by change of a final n (feminine /) into r , but the neuter
plural termioatioti hil (gat) may be sujHTadded in every case
Certain nouns change their b;\se termination before receiving the
case affixes, the latter being the same both for singular and plural
They are for the ace. ci. ioilr dl, social 6du (orfu, udan), dat. k'u,
loc U {idatiit, in), abl, t/iru?u^j{ [ininru), gen udeiya (adn).
There is, besides, a general oblique affix in, wnich is not only fre-
quently used for the genitive, but may be inserted before any of
the above affixe-'i, to some of which the emphatic particle i may
also be su|ieraddeu In the old poetry there is a still greater
variety of affixes, while there is an option of disj.cnsing wiih all
Adjectives, when attributive, precede the uoun and ure unchange-
able, when predicative they follow it and receive verbal affixes.
The pronouns of the Isl pcrstAi are sing ndn {y&n). inffcxiooal
base en, plural ndm {ydm). infl nam, including, ndngfil ,'\n\\ oignl,
excluding the person addressed, of the 2d person nf. infl un
(m'n. ninO, pliiial nir {niyir, ntvtr), ningal, infl urn, ungal {num)
To each of those forms, inclusive also of the reflexive pronouns
tAn, tdnt, td'igat. a place is a.*5signed in the scale of houoiihc pro-
nouns- As in the demonstrative pronouns the forms beginning
with 1 indicate nearness, those with a distance, and (in the old
poetry) those with u what is between the two, so the same forms
oegiiining with e (or yd, as in ydr, dr, who?) expiess the interro-
gative The verb consists of three elements — the root (gener.illy
rclucible to one syllable), the tense characteristic, and the personal
alhx There are three original moods, the indicative, imperative,
and infinitive (the 2d singular imperative is generally identicnl with
tlio root), as well as three original tenses, the present, past, and
future. The personal affi.xes are — sing (1) -fn, (2) dy, honorific
• ir , (3) masc. -dn, feni -dl, honor dr, neuter -adit, plural {\)
-Old (.dm. -^m). (2) -Ir^-a/ , (3)masc. fem 'ar/ra/, iieut -nna. These
affixes serve for all verbs and for each of the three tenses. exceT>t
that, in the future, -adii and aun are replaced by iirn. [kkum) It
;5 only in the formation of the tenses that verbs differ, intransitive
verbs generally indicating the present by -kir- {-kmr-), the past by
-d-, -Tui-. or in-, and the future by -v- (-6-). and transitive verbs.
by the corresponding infixes. -kkiT [-kkinT-}, -U {rul-), and ■]yp- ;
but there are numerous exceptions and seemingly anomalous forma-
tions Other tenses and moods are expressed with the aid of special
affixes or auxiliar)^ verbs Causal verbs are formed by various
infixes {-ppi-, -vi , -ttu-). and the passive by the auxiliary paitu,
to fall, or by uri. to eat, with a noun. The following four pecul-
iarities are characteristic of Taniil : — first, the tenselcss negative
form of the verb, expressed by the infix a, which is elided befot©-
dissimilar vowels, second, the predicative employment of two
negative particles ittei and atla, the one denying the existence or
presence, the other denying the quality or essence; third, the
use of two sets of particjfjes,— one. called adjective or relative
participle, which supplies the place of a relative clause, the language
possessing no relative pronouns, and an ordinary adveroial particirde
or geruuii , and. fourth, the practif^e of giving adjectives a vernal
form by means of personal affixes, which form may again be treated
as a DOUD by attacning to it the declensional terminations, thus .
periya, great , periyO>», we are great ; periydmukku, to us who are
great The old poetry abounds in verbal forms now obsolete.
Adjectives, adverbs, and abstract nouns are derived from verbs by
certain affixes All post-positions were originally either nouns or
verbal forms Oralio indirecta is unknown in Tamil, as it is in all
the other Indian languages, the gerund enru being used, like M
in Sanskrit, to indicate quotation The structure of sentences is
an exact counterpart of tne structure of words, inasmuch as that
which qualifies always precedes that which is qualified Thus the
attributive precedes the substantive, the substantive precedes the
preposition, the adverb precedes the verb, thfi secondary clause the
rrimary one, and the verb closes the sentence. The sentence.
, Having called the woman who had killed the child, he asked why
•he had committed such infauticide," runs in Tamil as follows : —
Kulandclyel kkonrnpottavalel Rlrlppltta
r TSe clillj her who had killed having caused >o be called.
ppat(a slBU.T-«tlt Bey^l&y gnru kSttan
^D*de cbUd. murder didst?" having said he asl<ed
Much as the similarity of the structure of the Tamil and its
•later languages to that of the Ugro Tartar class may have proved
suggestive of the assumption of a family affinity between the two
classes, such an affinity, if it exist, roust be held to be at least
very distant, inasniDch as the assumption receives but the faintest
•hade of support from an intercomparison of the radical and least
variable portion of the respective languages.
Literature. — The early existence, in southern India, of
peoples, localities, aoimals, and products the names of
which, as mentioned in the Old Testament and in Greek
and Uoioan vriters. have been identified with correspond-
nl (n IppadI
"Hiou why thua
ing Dravidian terms goes far to [irove the high aiitiijuity,
if not of the Tamil language, at least of some form of
Dravidian speech (Caldwell, loc. cit., Introd,, pp. 81-
106, Madras District Manual, 1., Introd., p. 134 s^/.).
But practically the earliest extant records of the Tamil
language do not ascend higher than the middle of the 8th
century of the Christian era, the grant in possession of the
Israelites at Cochin being assigned by the late Dr Burnell
to about T.'iO a D , a period when Malaydlma did not exist
yet as a separate language. There is every probability
that about the same time a number of Tamil works sprung
up, which are mentioned by a writer in the 1 1th century
as representing the old literature (Burnell, l<jc. at., p. 127,
note). The earlier of these may have been Saiva books;
the more prominent of the others were decidedly Jaina.
Though traces of a north Indian influence are palpable in all
of them that have come down to us (see, e.r/., F \V. Ellis's
notes to the Kural), we can at the same time perceive, as
we must certainly appreciate, the desire of the authors to
oppose the influence of lirahmanical writings, and create a
literature that should rival Sanskrit books and appeal to
the sentiments of the people at large. But the refinement
of the poetical languau'C, as adapted to the genius of
Tamil, has been carried to greater excess than in Sanskrit;
and this artificial character of llie so-called High-Tamil is
evident from a compari.son with the old inscriptions, which
are a reflex of the language of the people, and clearly show
that Tamil has not undergone any essential change -these
800 years (Burnell, /oc. dl., p 142) The rules of High-
Tamil appear to have been fixed at a very early date. The
ToU(lj>jiii/am. the oldest extant Tamil grammar, is assigned
by Dr Burnell (On Ihe Amelia School of Sansl.rtt Gram-
marians, pp. 8, 55) to the 8th century (best edition by C.
Y. Timodaram Pillei, Madras, 18S5) The Vh-asul lyam ,
another grammar, is of the 1 1th century. Both have been
superseded by the Nannul, of the 15th century, which has
exfitcised the skill of numerous commentators, and con-
tinues to be the leading native authority (English editions
in Pope's Third Tamil Giammar, and an abridgment by
Lazarus, 1884). The period of the prevalence of the
Jainas in the Pandya kingdom, from the 9th or lOtb to
the 13th century, is justly termed the Augustan age of
Tamil literature. To its earlier days is assigned the
Ndladtyar, an ethical poem on the three objects of exist-
ence, which is supposed to have preceded the A'uml of
Tiruvaljuvan, the finest poetical production in the whole
range of Tamil composition Tradition, in keeping with
the spirit of antagonism to Brahmanical influence, says
that its author was a pariah priest It consists of 1330
stanzas on virtue, wealth, and pleasure. It has often been
edited, translated, and commented upon , see the introduc
tion to the excellent edition, just published, by the Rev. Dr
Pope, in which also a comprehensive account of the pecul
iarities of High-Tamil will be found To the Av\ei, oi
Matron, a reputed sister of Tiruvaljuvan, but probably of
a later date, two shorter moral jinems, called Attisurh and
Konreiveyndan, are ascribed, which are still read in all
Tamil schools. Chinldmam, an epic of upwards ot 3000
stanzas, which celebrates the exploits of a King Jivakan,
also belongs to that early Jain period, and so does the
Divdkaram, the oldest dictionary of classical Tamil The
former is one of the finest poems in the language ; but no
more than the firstand part of the third of its thirteen books
liave teen edited and translated. Kamban's Rdmdyanam
(about 1100 A.D.) is the only other Tamil epic which comes
up to the Chintdmani in poetical beauty. The most bril-
liant of the poetical productions which appeared in tlie
period of the Saiva revival (13th and 14th centuries) arc
two collections of hymns addressed to Siva, the one called
I'iruviUakam, by M&nikka-VSsakan, and a later and larger
44
TAM-TAM
one called Tivdram, by Sambandhon and two other
d'vot«e8, SuadaraD and &ppaQ. Both these oollectioDg
ha-i been pnDted. the former m one, the latter in five
vnlijoiea They ar« nvalled both in religious fervour and
lu poetical merit by u cuotempotaneous collection of
^ roshjjava hTmna, the NiUdyira-prabandham (also printed
at Madras) The third sectioD of it, called Ttruvdymoli, or
" Words of the8a<red Mooth," has lately been published in
Telugunharacters, ontb ample commeutanea, m ten quartos
(Madras, l$75-76) After a period of literary torpor,
which lasted oearly two centories, King Vallabha Deva,
better Icnown by his assomed name Ativirarima Paijdiyan
(second half ■>< the 16th c«ntnry), endeavoured to renve
the love of poetry by compositions of hie own, the most
celebrated of which are the Nndadam, a somewhat extrar
vogant imitation ut Sri Barsha's Sanskrit Naithadham,
and Iba Fernverkei. a collection of sententioaB mtirimB
Though he had oumeroufl followers, who made this revival
the most prolific in the whole history of Tamil literature,
Qooe of the compostttons of every kind, mainly translations
and bombastic tmitationa of Sanskrit models, have attained
to any fame An exceptional place, however, is occupied
by certain Tamil sectanans called Mtar (t.e.. nddkaa or
sages), whose mystical poeois, especially those contained m
the Sixavdkyam, are said to be of singular beauty Two
poems of high merit, composed at the end of the 1 7th
century, also deserve favourable notice — the Ifttxntn-
vUakkam. an ethical treatise by KomAragtinipara Desikan,
and the PrabhidtTigatUet, a Cranalation from the CJanarese
ot a famous text book of the Vtra-Saiva sect. See the
analysis in W Taylor's Catalogue, vol ii p. 837 -47
The modam penod, which may be said to date from the be^^Inniug
of the last ceLtary. is oahered m by two great poets, one native and
the other foreign. TSynmanavan. a pbuoaopber of the pantbeutic
tebool. compoeed 1453 stanzas Ijsddal) which have a high reputa
tion for guDlimity both of sentiment^ and style, and the Italian
Jesuit J<»epb Boscbi (d. 1742), tuider the name Vtnm&mani,
elaborated, on the model of the Chiiudmani. a religioos epic
Timbdvani, which, though marred by blemUbes of taste, ia classed
by native critics among the best productions of their litermtnre.
Irtrete of the hiatorv of Si loseph. and has been pnnted at
Pondicherry in three volumes, witu a ftill analyaia. English
inflnence has bene, .as m Bengal and elsewhere iii India, greatly
tended to create a healthier tone m literature both as to style and
■entiment. ks one of the best Tamil translations of English books
in respect of diction and idiom may be mentioned the BilavyipA-
riial, or "Little Merchants,' published by the Vernacular Text
Society, Madras, P Percival s collection of Tamil Proverks fSd ed .
1876) should also be mentioned The copper-plate grants, commmily
called idsanains, and stone mscnptions in Tamil, many of which
have been copied and translated {ArchsecUygioal Survey of Smitlifm
India,, vol. iv , R. Sewell, Lists of tht Antiquarian Remains in the
Presidency of ifadrat, vols. i,. ii ), are the only authentic historical
records. (See also Sir Walter Elliot's contnbution to the fntcr
national Numismata Onentalia, vol lit pt 2.) As early as the
time of the Chinese traveller Hwen Tsang, books were ^vntten
in southern India on talipot leaves, and Albiruni mentions this
custom as quite prevalent in his time (1031). It has not died oat
even at the present day, though paper imported from Portugal has,
dunng the last three centuries, occasionally been used. Madras
is now the largest depository of Tamil palm-leaf MSS. , which ha»e
been descnbed in Wilson's Catalogue of the Mackenzie ColUclwn
(Calcatta, 1828. 2 vols.), W Taylor's Catalogue (Madras, 1857, 3
vols 1. aod Condaswamy Iyer 9 Catalogue (vol. i. . Madras, 1861).
The an of printing, however. *vhich was introduced in southern
India at an early date, while it has tended to the preservation of
tnany valuable productions ol the ancient literatnre, has also been
the mrans of perpetuating and circulating a deal of Uterary rubbish
and lasci^otiPDess which »vould much oetter have remained in
the oomparatT'ely safe obscurity of mannschpt Dr Burnell has
a note in his Elfmerus of South Indian Paleography (2d ed. p
44), from which it appears that in 1578 Tamil types were cut
by Father Joao de Fana. aod that a hundred years later a Tamil
and r'ortus^ese dictionary wap ptibiished at Ambalakkadu. At
presenr th-^- noinber of Tamil nooks (inclu..*ive of oewspafKTS)
print^'d dUDuallv far exceeds that of the other Dravidiau PeraaciUars
put tccether The carlipst Tamil version of the New Tesraninnt
was commenced by tlio Datch m Ceylon in 1688; Fabncius'e cmns-
tatioa agpearodj at Traiit^m^bar In 1716 Since then auui.v Qt^w
translations of the whole Bible have been pnntea, and some ol
them have pasaed through several editions. The Gerumo nu^^sionary
B. Ziegenbalg w«a the first to make the study of Tamil possible in
Europe by the publication of his Orammatua Damulica, which
appeared at Halle in 1716 Some time later the Jesuit father
Besctu devoted much time and labour to the composition of
gmmmara both of the vulgar and the poetical dialect. The former
ts'tre&ted m his OraTnTnaiica Latino-Tofnuliia, which was written
10 1728, but was not pnnted till eleven years later (Tranquebar,
1739) It was twice reprinted, and two English tnnslatious have
been published ( .831, 1848). Hta Sen-Tamil Orammar, accessible
ainoe 1822 in an English translation by Dr Babicgton, was pnnted
from bia own MS. (CUima humanioruTn lUterarum ^ublimioria
Tamulici tdumuHw) at Tranquebar in 1878. This work is espe-
cially valuable, as the greater portion of it consists of & learned and
exhaustive treatise on Tamil prosody and rhetoric. (See, on hi*
other works, Graol's Reise, vol iv p. 327.) There are also gram-
mars by Anderson, Rhenins, Graul (in vol it of his Bibliolhsca
Tamulica, Leipaic, 1856), Lazarus (Madras, 1878), Pope (4th
edition in three parts, London, 1883-5), and Orammaire Pranipiae-
Tamoule, by the Abb4 Dapuis, Pondichem, 1863 The last two
ar« by far the tiost. The India Office library possesses a MS.
dictionary and grunmar "par le R4v Pere Dominii^ue" ^Pondi-
chem, 1843), and a copy of a MS. TamJ-Latin dictionary by the
celebrated missionary Sdiwarz, in which 9000 words are explained
About the like number of words are given m the dictionary of
Fabncius and Breithaapt (Madras, 1779 and 1809). , Rottler'e
dictionary, the publication of which was commenced in 1834, is a
far more ambitious work. But neither it nor Wiaslow'e (1862)
come up to the standard of Tamil scholarship, the DiaiomiaiTe
Xamoui- Franfau, which appeared at Pondicherri in 2 vola. (1865-
62), IS enpenor to both, ]ust as the Dictionanum Latino ■Qallico-
Tamulicum iUnd. , 1846) eicels the various Bnglish-Tamil diction-
anes which have been published at Madras.
Compart (be foUowind work* of relereoec —A T Mondl^re and J Vinson
m Dtctionnam fU* Sntneex anlhnpoioffufvet. i o ' DrsrldlenB"; S. C Chltcy.
7^ Tamit PlutarcA. JafFDa. I8fl9 . J MurdociL C'iOMVUd Cataloffn* of Tamil
Fnnttti Babti^ Madras. 1866 C £ Govei. t'olk-Sofifft V Soulhem /ndia,
Madraa. 1871 .' Bishop CaJdw,fll « Comparanpc Orammaf o/ l/tt Dravuiuin
Langttafft*. 2d ed.. Looaoa, isld , liraul s Hetit .uj^/i Ontnatei^ vola It aad v .
the qaanerly JAtti oj Boots regut«red id iDe Madrua (irealOeDCy (Dr Macleao a]
Afanual of M« Admtnutraiton ofUu Ha<J''a* Pr^uUncy vola I and 11 Madras
1886. foUo and P UUUar Oruutrl$$ <ier SpracAauieiuCmft Vieuu^ 1804. ill I
162-}4e (R H.)
TaMWORTH, a municipal borough and market-iowo
ot England, on the borders of Staffordshire and Warwick
shire, chiefly in the former la situated at the juoctiuu ut
the Tame with the Ank«r, and on brajuchea ot the LunduD
and North Western and Midland Railway lines, 7 aiilee
soQth-eastof Lichtield. 20 oorlh-west of Coventry, and 1 10
nCtrih-wbst of Loi^don The castle, situated on a boigbi
nbove the Anker near its junction with the Tame, la no«
chiefly of the Jacobean penod, but is enclosed by uiaasive
ancient walla It was long the residence ot the SaxoL
kinga, and, after being bestowed on the Marmiuuij by
William the Conqueror, remained tor many years an im
portant fortress Through the female lino of the Mar
mionf It has descended to the Marquis Townsbena
Formerly the town was surrounded by a ditch called the
King's Dyke, of which some trace still remains Tht
church of St Editha, originally louuded in the 8th century,
was rebuilt, after being burned by the Danes, by Edgar,
wbo made it collegiate, but the present building in the
Decorated style was erected utter a fire m the 14tb century
Since 1 870 it has been undergoing restoration at a cost of
£10.000 'fbe free grammar school, retounded by Edward
VL, waa rebuilt in 1677. and again lo l867-t)8 at a cost
of £3000 The other public buildiiigs are the swimming
batb and boys lostituie (1886) the town hall (1701),
and the arcade, forrnerly used as a covered market, bu»
recently obtained by the Salvation Army "The chi-.nties
mclude Quy's almshouses, endowed lu 1678 by Thomas
Ooy. founder of Gay's Hospital, Loudon, and the cottage
hospital with twenty-one beds W aterworks have recently
been erected at a cost of ovei £'^5.000 On the " moors
burgesses have ngbta for cattle Coal, titeclay, and blue
and red brick clay are dug in the nBighbour!,uod , and
there are also market gurdena The town ^lossnst'e? a
clothiuu factory, paper mills, and manufavt.orios Ot » 11
~%r«a. rfcu population of the uiuntuiiu' Ovjiou^'h (cioa
T A N— T A N
45
200 acres) in 18"i was 4589, and in 1881 it was 4891, —
that of the parliamentary borough (area 11,602 acres) in
the same years being 11,493 and 14,101. Tamworth
ceased to be a parliamentary borough in 1885.
Tamworth iesitaated near the old Roman Watling Street, and
occupies the site of a fort which, from the beginning of the 8th
century, waj the chief royal residence in Mcrcia. The town, after
being burnt by the Danes* was rebuilt and fortified by Ethelfleda,
dangbter of Alfred the Great. From the reign of Edward the
Mirtyr to that of 'WilUani Rufus it was a royal mint, and some of
the coins struck at Tamworth are still in esistence. The town was
incorporated in the 3d year of Elizabeth, from whom it obtained
the grant of a fair and the confirmation of various privileges
bestowed bv Edward III. The Elizabethan charter was superseded
by one conferred by Charles 11., which continued to be the govem-
.og charter of the town till the passing of the Municipal Act. The
lown, with occasional intermissions, returned members to parlia-
ment from the reign of Henry I. till 1885. Among its more dis-
tingnished representativee have been Thomas Guy and Sir Robert
Fed.
TANAGER, a word adapted from the quasi-Latin Tan-
igra of Linnaeus, which again is an adaptation, perhaps
with a classical allusion, of Tan^ara, used by Brisson and
Buffon, and said by Marcgrave (Hist. Her. Nat. JBrasilise,
p. 214) to be the Brazilian name of certain birds found in
ihftt country. From them it has since been extended to
a great many^ others mostly belonging to the southern
portion of the New World, now recognized by ornitholo-
gists as forming a distinct Family of Oecines, and usually
considered to be allied to the Frinffillidae (cf. FiNcn,
voL ix. p. 191); but, as may be inferred from Prof.
Parker's remarks in the Zoological Transactions (x. pp.
252, 253, and 267), the Tanagndx are a " feebler " form,
and thereby bear out the opinion based on the examination
of many types both of Birds and Mammals as to the lower
morphological rank of the Neotropical Fauna as a whole
{cf. BmDs, vol iii. p. t43)-
The Tanagera are a group in which Mr Sclater has for many years
interested himself, and his latest treatment of them is contained
in the British Museum Catalogue {xi. pp. 49-307). Therein he
admits the existence of 375 species, which ne arranges in 59 genera,
forming six Subfamilies, ProcnuUirue, Euphcmiinse, Tanagrime,
Lamvroiinm, P)umicophiliiue, and Pitylinte. These are of very
une<jual extent, for, while the first of them consists of but a single
species, Proenias Ursa, — the position of which may be for several
reasons still open to doubt, — the third includes more than 200.
Kearly all are birds of small size, ti\S largest barely exceeding a
Song-Thrush. Most of them are remarkable for their gaudy
colouring, and this is especially the case in those forming tho
genus called by Mr Sclater, as by most other iuthors, Callislc, a
term inadmissible through preoccupation, to which the name of
Tanagra of right seems to belong, while that which he names
Tanagra should probably be known as Thraupis. The whole
Family is almost confined to the Neotropical Eeg-on, and there
are several forms peculiar to the Antilles ; but not a tenth of the
species reach even southern Mexico, and not a dozen appear in the
northern part of that country. Of the genus Pyrariga, which h.is
the most northern range of all, three if not four species are common
Bummer immigrants to some part or other of the United States,
and two of them, P. rubra and P. astira, — there known respectively
as toe Scarlet Tanager and the Summer Redbird,— reach even the
Dominion of Canada, visiting as well, though accidentally,
Bermuda. P. ssstiva has a western representative, P. cooperi, which
by some authors is not recognized as a distinct species. The males
of all these are clad in glowing red, P. rubra having, however, the
wings and tail black. The remaining species, P. liuioviciana, the
males of which are mostly yellow and black, with tho head only
red, does not appear eastward of tho Missouri plains, and has not
80 northerly a range. .Another species, P. Jiepalica, has' just shewu
itself within the limits of the United States. In all these the
females are plainly attired; but generally among the Tanagers,
however bright rosy be their coloration, both sexes are nearly alike
in plumage. Little has been recorded of the habits of the species
of Central or South America, but those of the north have been as
closely observed as the rather retiring nature of the birds renders
possible, and it is known that insects, espeeiaily in the larval
condition, and berries afford the greater part of their food. They
liave a pleasing song, iind build a shallow nest, in which the eggs,
generally 3 in number and of a greenish-hloe marked with brown
and purple, are laid.
On a whole the Tana^ridse may perhaps be considerfid
to hold the same relation to the FrinffUlida as thc Icteridat
do to the Slumidx and the Mniotiltvdx to the Sylviidet or
Turdidst, in each case the purely New- World Family being
the " feebler " type. (a. N.)-
TANCRED (d. 1112), son of the marquis Odo the Good
and Emma the sister of Robert Gaiscard, one of the most
famous heroes of the £rst crusade. See Crusades, vol'
vi. p. 624 sq.
TANCRED, the last Norman king of "Sicily, reigned
1189-1194. See Sicilt, vol. xxii. p. 26.
TANGANYIKA, a lake in East Central Africa, called
Maaga (" tempestuous ") by the Wakawendi and Kimana
by the Warungu. The meaning of the name Tanganyika
is,, according to Cameron, nothing more than "the miring
place." It is the longest freshwater lake in the world,
being about 75 miles longer than Lake Michigan.
Although the Arabs had long known of the existence of
the lake, the first Europeans who discovered it were Speke
and Burton in 1858. It has since been visited by Living-
stone, Cameron, Stanley, Thomson, and Hore, who have
all added to our knowledge of it. Tanganyika, which is
situated some 600 miles as the crow flies from the east
coast of Africa, extends from 3° 16' S. lat. to 8° 48' S. lat.,
and lies between 29° 10' E. long, and 32° 30', E. long. Its
length is 420 mUes, and its breadth varies from 10 to 50
miles. Its area is 12,650 "square miles, and its altitude
may be taken as 2700 feet above sea-level (Cameron, 2710;
Stanley, 2770; Hore, 2750; Popelin, 2665). It has a
coast-line of 900 miles in extent. Its greatest depth has
not yet been determined, but Hore states that a 168-fathom
rope often failed to reach the bottom. Tanganyika may
be described as an enormous crevasse. It is bordered on
all sides by hills and mountains, some of which rise to
from 5000 to 10,000 feet above its waters. The scenery
is marked by exceptional grandeur, and is 'well calculated
to impress the traveller. Burton says: —
"It filled us with admiration, with wonder, and delight. Beyond
the short foreground of rugged and precipitous hSl-fold, down
which tho footpath painfully zigzags, a narrow plot of emerald
green shelves gently towards a ribbon of glistening yellow sand,
here bordered by sedgy rushes, there clear and cleanly cut by the
breaking wavelets. Farther in front stretches an- expanse of the
lightest, softest blue, from 30 to 35 miles in breadth, and sprinkled
by the cast wind with crescents of snowy foam. It is bounded on
the other side by tall and broken Walls of purple hill, flecked and
capped with pearly mist, or standing sharply pencilled against the
azure sky. To the south lie high bluff headlands and capes; and
as the eye dilates it falls on little outlying islets, speckling a sea
horizon. 'Villages, cultivated lands, the frequent canoes of the
fishermen, give a something of life, of variety, of movement to the
scenery."
Tanganyika is fed by numerous rivers and streamlets
which flow from the surrounding hills, the yearly rainfall
being about 27 inches, but the rainy seasons vary extremely
in different years, altering the surface area of the lake
accordingly. Hore found that between March 1879 and
August 1880 the waters had fallap 10 feet 4J inches,
as marked by a water-gauge he had erected at Ujiji, and
he also saw evident signs of the receding of the waters all
round the shores of the lake — belts of dead timber and
bleached rock. Some 120 rivers knd streams flow into the
lake ; the most important river is the Malagatasi, near
Ujiji. Just below; the rapids its width is 500 feet, and
the average depth 5 feet For many years Tanganyika
was a riddle to African explorers, — Livingstone, Baker, and
others believing that it belonged to the Nile system, and
that it was connected with the Albert Nyanza. That this
theory is incorrect was proved when Livingstone and
Stanley explored.the north end of the lake in November
1871, finding no outlet. It was Cameron, in March 1874,
■who first solved the riddle, and found that the outlet of
Tanganyika was the river Lukuga, at about the centre of
the western shore of the lakp, 5° 52' 45" S. laL In 1876
46
T A N — T A N
this outlet, was visited by Stanley, wbo found that ttiere
was no apparent outflow, and doubt was thrown upon
Cameron's obsorvatmn^, which, however, have been proved
to be correct by Hoie, who in ISSO found a strong current
setting uneiiuuocally out of the lalte Not only so, but he
obtained good views of the rivt-r, which gradually widens
soon aftcr'the rapids near the lake are passed He followed
the river to 5' 50' S. lat., and. from an altitude of 1100
feet above the river, he saw it flowing far away to the
westward. The question is therefore settled that Lake
Tanganyika belongs to the Congo -system, but it is only an
occasional tributary to that nngliiy rivt-r, its contribution
depending upon the rainfall The lake is subject to fre-
quent storms, especially fruru the S .S E and S W , lasting
Eomelimes for two or three days, and leaving a heavy swell,
which proves a great hindrance to navigation. Hore says
— " I have never witnessed such wondrous cloud--sceiiery
and majestic effects of thuudtir and lightning as on Tau
ganyika."
Theshoresanawatn- of the lake abound m auimal lilo.— crocodiles,
the hippo[iotamus..otUT*, anJ many kinds of fi!.li Uiiij; fuund lu Us
■waters. Flocks of w.itcrfowl il."Ui]J in tlit- tiv-r inuuili- gulls,
diteis, herons. kinf-'fi-,liers. i.nf;l>-s. hsli h.iwks, und bla. k ibis an-
very numerous. Thr shore., .ire V'.r\ f.riilv. — n.,.. manior. kdlfn-
corn, two kinds of giound nuts, ujaii'r. u1.-)m, punipkins, sweet
potatoes, sugar-cane, ca~tui <iil tri-o. laiuann'l. euiton. tomato,
Find cucumber growing lu\unaiill> Tlie I'll |p,ilm grows at l'|iii
Uiuudi. and at the south i nd ■•> the laki . th.- bun^»us neat the
Mal.agauii river, the suew pilni in I'guba, ml th. raphia in
several localities Thi i/<\^ fl) i- f'>und\.n th. ..li'.nsol thr lake
from Ujiji round the southern eml is fat a» I'b.vdri on the n.st
coast. Amongst the useful tiinb.:i ti.es may b. iiotned the gigantic
mbule, the mininga, lignum vite, untl . bony Thi |jen|,l,. mh.ihit
ing the countiies on the b..rdir» of the lak.- t..rm t. ti di-.lin. t tiib.s,
with sepaiate national peculiariiies ind customs Th.-y live in
wcll-organizeil villages, in whnli cun^ideralil.- »oeul oid'r is main
tained. They have also learnt, to som. exlnii at any rate, to
utilize the products ol then eounrry th. y w.irk then own irou
and copper , salt is prepared foi hart, i palm oil is voile, te'l . ami
in some places there are huge [.ott-ry works Th. ii tishing industry
is t-ttcnsive, and dried fish i»txporie.l boatbuilding is •■arried .in
to a small cictent , cotton i loth is manuU tunJ at vvrral places,
ind at others the famous grass oi palm libn ih.th . whilst the
dairy farms of L'hha export pa. kag..s ol butt. I Th..r>- are sev.
eral London Missionary Soeiety stations on Laki Tinganyika. also
one belonging to the Roman Catholics, and a stati.m ..f the African
International Association is situated at Karenia. L'jiji, an Arab
town of some importance, stands on the easteru slion of the lake.
T.\NOIERS, or Ta.nciek (Tmij.<), a seaport of Morocco
and capital of a pashalik, on the Strait of Gibraltar,
about 14 miles to the east of Cape iSpartel, .stands on two
eminences at the north west extremity of a spacious bay.
The town has a tine appiearance from the .sea, rising
gradually in the form of an amphitheatre, and defended
by walls and a castle. The streets, which are unpaved,
are very narrow and croo'ked, and the houses, except those
occupied by foreign ambiussadors or consuls and a few
others, are mean. The main thoroughfare is that which
leads from the Bab-alMarsa (Gate ol the Port) to the
Bab-al-Sok (Gate of the .Market Tlace) , the sok presents
a lively spectacle, esiiecially on Sundays and Thursdays.
The manufactures of Tangiers are of little importance,
consisting chiefly of coarse woollen cloth, mats, and
pottery; tanning is also carried on, but the leather,
though much esteemed in Europe, is inferior to that made
in other parts of Morocco. The harbour is a mere road-
stead, but It is the best Morocco possesses, and affords
good anchorage and bheller to the largest vessels, except
during the prevalence of strong winds from the north-west
or east. Tangiers has a large trade with Gibraltar. The
climate is teiirperate and healthy, but the inhabitants often
suffer much in summer [rom deliciency of water-supply.
Tangiers, which is the residence of all the foreign ministers
ftiid consuls to the court of Morocco, has a population esti-
mated at about 20.000 of whom some 400 are_ Europeans^
The Koman Tingis, which stood in the immediate vicinity of
the site of Tangiers, boasted of great antiquity; under Augustui
It became a free city, and Claudius made it a Roman colony and
capital of Tiugitaiia It was held successively by Vandals, Byzan-'
tines, and Arabs, and fell luto the hands of the Portuguese towards
tho end ol the 16th century In 1&62 it was made part of the.
dowry ol Catherine of Biagauza on -her marriage with Charles II.
oi Eiigland . the English defended It in 16S0, but, on account of it*
expenso, dismantled it in lt)84 and abandoned it to the Moors, who
fortided It anew It was bombarded by a Spanish fleet in 1790
and by the French lu 1844
T.^NU.\USER, or Tannhauser, the subject of one of
the most famous of old German legends, is represented
as a knight who alter many wanderings comes to the
Venusberg He enters the cave where the Lady Venus
holds her court, and abandons himself to a life of sensual
pleasure By and by he is overcome by remorse, and,
invoking the aid of the Virgin Mary, he obtains per-
mission to return for a while to the outer world. He
then goes aa a pilgrim to Rome, and entreats Pope Urban
to secure for him the forgiveness of his sins. The pope,
who happens to have a rod in his hand, says it is as im-^
possible for him to be pardoned as for the rod to blossom.;
Tanhauser therefore departs in despair, and returns to the'
Lady Venus. In three days the rod begins to put forth
green leave.s, and the pope ^nds messengers in all direc-
tions in search of the penitent, but he is never seen again.
Thi.s legend was at one time known in every part of
Germany, and as late as 1830 it survived in a popular,
song at Entlibuch, a version of which was given by'
L'hland in his A/te hock- und nuderdtutsche Volksheder.
It can be traced back to the 1 4th •century, but in its
original form seems to have belonged to the period of
Teutonic paganism According to some legends, the Venus-'
berg IS the Hoselberg or Hurselberg, a hill near Eisenach
associated with the Teutonic goddess of the nether world,
who was known by various names, such as Hulda, Hilda,
and Hel To this goddess the name of Venus appears to
have been transferred Among the attendants of Hulda
was the faithful Eckhart, and in the preface to the
Uddi-idruch he is said to sit before the Venusberg, and
to warn passers-by «f the dangers to which they may be
exposed if they linger in the neighbourhood The legend
has been reproduced by several modern German poets,
and forms the subject of one of 'Wagner's operas.
In the 13th century, contemporary with Pope Urban
IV , there was a German knight called Tanhauser, who was
well known as' a minnesinger at the court of Frederick
U., duke of Austria After Duke Frederick's death
Tanhauser was received at the court of Otlio II , duke of
liavaria , but, being of a restless disposition, and having
wasted his fortune, he spent much time in wandering
about Germany. He also went as a crusader to the Holy
Land. His poems (printed in the second part of the
Miniirxin'/rr, edited b^ Von der Hagen) are fresh, lively,
and graceful, but lack the ideal tone which marks the
writings ol the earlier minnesinger He was much
esteemed by the incistersinger, and it is po.ssible that the'
story of his adventurous lile may have been connected
with the old legend about the Venusberg.
See K.irnui.uni, .U./iu- yencm (lfil4). and Grasse, Die Sage vom
RiWr T'tnluiustT, and Der Tiifihau^cruiid h'uiyc Jutit, aiaoZaaia,
DiC Tilnhiiiiser Sayc uiiUJ<r M ailusailijcr TanhauscK
TANJORE, a district of British India, in the Madras
presidency, lying between y' 60' and 11° 25' N. lat. and
between 78° 55' and 79° 56' E. long , with an area of
3G54 square miles. It forms a portion of the Southern
Carnatic, and is bounded on the N by the river Coleroon,
which separates it from 'lYichinopoly and South Arcot
districts, on the E. and S.E by the Bay of Bengal, on
the S.W. by Madura district, and on the W. by
Madura and Trichinopoly and Pudukotta state. Tanjore
T A N — T A N
47
ia known as the g&rdan of Sontberu India. It is well
watered by an elaborate system of d&ms, cuts, and canals
in connexion with the rivers Cauvery and Coleroon, and the
soil is exceedingly productive. The delta of the Cauvery
occupies the flat northern part, which is iigUy cultirated
with rice, dotted over with groves of cocoa-nat trees, and
densely populated. Tanjore is a land of temples, many
of them being of very early date. The great temple of
Tai^ore city is said to be the finest in India ; it is of the
11th century, and remains in excellent preservation to the
present day. The district has a coast-line of 140 miles,
but communication with shipping is unsafe, owing to a
heavy surf which breaks incessantly on the shore. The
ninfalT,' as elsewhere on the Coromandel coast, varies
considerably from year to year ; the mean annual fall, as
observed at ten stations for four years, was 4714 inches.
Tanjore is amply provided with means of communication.
It is traversed by two branches of the South Indian Railway.
The census of 1881 retamed the population of the district at
■2,130,333 (males 1.026,528, females 1,103,855), of whom 1,939,421
were Hindus, 112,058 Mohammedans, and 78,258 Christians.
Taiyore is the first district in which Protestant missions began,
and now it is second only to Tinnevelly in the number of fts
Christian mission^. These establishments were taken over in 1826
by the Society for the Propagation ql the Gospel, which subse-
quently founded missions in several parts of the district The,
total number of native Protestants belonging to the various societies
in 1881 was 8255. Romau Catholic missions in Tanjore date from
the first half of the 17th century, and the number of native Roman
Catholics in 1881 was 67,745. Five towns have populations ex-
ceeding 10,000, viz., Tanjore (see below), Negapatam 53,855, Com-
baconnm 50,098, Mayavaram 23,044, and Munnargudi 19,409.
Of th» total area of the district, reckoned at 2,392,117 acres,
1,468,500 were returned in 1884-85 as cultivated, and 149,228 as
available for cultivation, while forests covered 21,422 acres. Rice
is the staple crop, and is raised almost entirely by artificial irriga-
tion : green crops are common ; plantain and betel-vine gardens
abound in the delta, where sugar-cane and tobacco are also cQlti-
vated. The chief manuf.ictures are metal wares, sUk cloths, carpets,
and pith-work. Imports consist chiefly of cotton piece goods,
twist and yarn, metals, timber, and betel nuts. Rice is by far the
most important article of export alike by sea and land. The gross
revenue in 1884-85 was £549,982, the land yielding £389,755.
The modern history of Tanjore commences with its occupation
by the Mahrattas in 1678 under Venkaji, the brother of Sivaji the
Great. The British first came into contact with Tanjore by their
expedition in 1749 with a view to the restoration of a deposed rdja.
In this they failed, and a subsequent expedition was bought off.
The Mahrattas practically heli Tanjore until 1799. In October of
that year it was ceded to the East India Company in absolute
sovereignty by Raja Sharabhoji, pupil of the missionary Schwartz,
the company engaging to pay the raja of Tanjore one-fifth of the
net revenue of the territory which was transferred to them, with a
further sum o( £35,000. Raja Sharabhoji retained only the capital
and a small tract of country around. He died in 1833, and was
succeeded by his son Sivaji, on whose death' in 1855 without an
heir the house became extinct, the rights and privileges appertain-
^ing to it ceased, and Tanjore became British territory.
; TAXJORE, capital and administrative headquarters of
.the above district, is situated in 10' 47' N. lat. and 79°
■10' 24" E. long. As the last capital of the ancient Hindu
dynasty of the Cholas, and in all ages one of the chief
political, literary, and retigioua centres of the south, the
city is full of interesting associations. Its monuments of
Indian art and early civilization are of the first importance.
■Besides its great temple, the city is famed for its ^rtistic
manufactures, including silk carpets, jewellery, repousse
work, copper wares, <tc. It contained a population in
1881 of 54,745 (26,272 males and 28,473 females). The
South Indian Railway connects Tanjore with Negapatam,
its. seaport on the east, and Trichinopoly on the west.
TAXNAHILL, Robert (1774-1810), one of the most
popular of the successors of Burns in song-writing, was a
weaver in Paisley, where he was born in 1774. He was
apprenticed to his father's trade at the age of twelve, in
the year of the first publication of the poems of Bums,
which quickened the poetic ambition of so many Scottish
yontha in humble life. The yoting apprentice studied and
composed poetry as he drove the shuttle to and fro, with
shelf and ink-bottle rigged iip on his loom-post. Apart
from his poetry, he had little variety in his life. He was
shy and reserved, of small and delicate physique, and took
little part in the \'igorous social life of the town, beyond
sitting and smoking at a club of local worthies, and occa-
sionally writing humorous verses for their amusement.
He haid apparently bat one love affair, the heroine of
which was the original of " Jessie, the Flower of Dunblane."
He bade her farewell in indignant rhymes after three years'
courtship. The steady^ routine of his trade was broken
only by occasional excursions to Glasgow and the land of
Burns, and a year's trial of work at Bolton. He began in
1805 to contribute verses to Glasgow and Paisley period-
icals, and published an edition of his poems by subscription
in 1807. Three years later the life of the quiet, gentle,
diffident, and despondent poet was brought by his own act to
a tragic end. Tannahill's claims to remembrance.rest upon
half a dozen songs, full of an exquisite feeling for nature,
and so happily wedded to music that their wide popularity
in Scotland is likely to be enduring. " Loudon's Bonnie
Woods and Braes," " Jessie, the Flower of Dunblane," and
" Gloomy Winter's Noo Awa " are the best of them.
Tannahill's centenary was celebrated with great honour at Paisley
in 1874 ; and, in an edition by Mr David Semple, published in 1876,
there is an exhaustive and minutely learned account of all that has
been preserved concerning the poet, his ancestry, and the occasions
of his various poems.
TANNIN, a generic name for a class of vegetable
substances which, as the name indicates, are all available
for tanning, meaning the conversion of animal hide into
leather. 'Tannin is widely diffused throughout the vege-
table kingdom. An enumeration of the principal materials
which form the commercial sources of the substance will
be found under Leatbee, vol xiv. p. 381, and in various
special articles referred to from that heading.
Our chemical knowledge on the subject is very limited ;
and, as long as we know no better, each of the various
tanning materials must he viewed as containing a "tannin''
of its own kind.' Only a few have as yet been obtained
in a state approximating chemical purity. The following
characters are common to them all : —
(1) All are colourless or little-coloured non-volatile solids, sol-
uble in water and in alcohol ; the solution has an astringent taste.
(2) They colour blue litmus paper feebly red, yet all unite with
the alkalies into soluble salts ; the solutions of these eagerly absorb
oxygen from the air, with formation of dark-coloured products.
(3) They form insoluble salts with the oxides of lead, zinc,
copper, producible by addition of solution of the tannin to one of
the respective acetate.
(4) They form very dark-coloured (green or blue) compounds
with ferric oxide, conveniently producible by addition of the tannin
to ferric or ferroso-ferric acetate. Ordinary old. fashioned black
(gall-nut) ink may be quoted as an illustration.
(5) Tannin solutionsprecipitate gelatine as an insoluble compound,
generallyassumed to be chemicallysimilartothe substance of leather.
(6) If a piece of raw hide be placed in a solution of any Unnin,
it imbibes the latter with formation of Leather (q v.).
(7) Aqueous tannin-solutions, if mixed with dilute sulphuric acid,
are readily oxidized by solution of permanganate of potash, which,
being reduced to manganous salt, loses its intense violet colour.
Upon the last two propositions Lowenthal has based a convenient
method for the assaying of tannin materials. A known weight of
the substance to be analysed (say sumach) is extracted with water,
and the extract diluted to a known volume. An aliquot part of
the extract is then mixed with a certain proportion of a standard
solution of indigo-c'lrmin and of sulphuric acid, and, after large
dilution with water, standard permanganate is dropped in from a
burette (graduated glass tube) until the colour of the indigo is
completely discharged. After deducting the volume of reagent
which would have been taken up by the indigo alone, the rest ia
put down as corresponding to the "permanganate reducers gene-
rally." Another measured volume of the extract is then poured
over a sufficient weight of dry shavings of raw hide, after naving
been suitably diluted, and the whole is allowed to stand until the
tannin has idl passed into the hide. The liquid is then filtered,
^ Coffee beans and t«a leaves contais peculiar taimlsf.
48
T A N — T A O
and ft measured volume, corresponding to exactly the quantity of
extract used for the assay, tested ^vith permanganate. The volume
of reagent used this tinif is deducted from that used in the assay
•3 a correction- From the net permanganate the weight of pure
gallotannic acid which it would oxidiie is calculated on the basis
pf standard expenuients, and from this weight the '* percentage of
tannin" is deduced. The method is purely empirical, and the
reeults are of no value unless obtained according to a rigorously
prescribed mode of procedure. Of individual taunins that of the
gall-nuts, known aa galloUinnu: acid, is best known. For its pre-
paration (according to P^louzp.) powdered gall-nuts are placed in
an apparatus for extraction "by displacement," and in it soaked
in a mixture of 9 parts of ether and 1 part of water for twenty -four
hours, ^he liquid is then allowed to draiu off, and the residue
washed with aqueous ether. The liquid on standing separates
into two layers, — a lower heavy layer, which contains the taonin,
and an upper more purely ethereal layer, which contains gallic acid
and other impurities. The lower layer is drawn off, washed once
or twice with ether, and then evaporated to dryness at a ^entlo
heat ; the tannin remains as a porous friable mass of a slightly
greyiah. yellow colour This is the tanniu of the pharmaceutist.
Such tannin is not by any means an absolutely unitary substance.
Its solution, if allowed to stand in the presence of a ferment which
is naturally present in gall-nut extract, or more readily if boiled
with fiulphuric acid, yields a large proportion of gallic acid, which
is easily obtained in pure crystals. According to Strecker, glucose
is formed at the same time, whence he viewed tannin as a glucoaide
(see SOGAR). But this is now recognized as a mistake, since Hugo
Schiff showed that ^re tannin is only digallic acid, C,,H,(,0,—
2C7HJO5 (gallic acid) minus IH5O. Pure tannin, according to
Schiff, can be obtained by dehydrating pure gallic acid by means
of chloride of acetyl. The tannin of the Chinese gall-nuts seems
to be identical with gallotannic acid.
Querettannic Acid. —The tannin of oak bark is certainly different
from gallotannic acid, because it yields no gallic acid when boiled
with dilute vitriol. Etti {Jahresb. iiber die forCschr. der Chcmie
for 1880, p. 898) prepares it by extracting the powdered bark with
dilate alcohol at a gentle heat, adding ordinary ether to the alcoholic
extract, and shaking out the tannin with acetic ether. The acetic
ether extract is distilled to recover the solvent, the residue filtered,
and the filtrate evaporated to dryness to obtain the pure (?) tannin
as a reddish-white powder of the composition CtyHijOg. At 130-
140' C. it loses water and forms phhbaphen, Cg^HjoOj,, a brown
solid insoluble in water but soluble in solution of the tannin.
Quercitannic acid forms quite a series of such anhydrides;
C«H,„Oi, : C„H„0„ ; C„H„0„; C5,H„0„. Some, if not all, of
these are contained in aqueous oak-bark extract, and they play an
important part in its application for tanning. According to Etti,
quercitannic acid is a tri-methyl substitution-product oi digallic
ecid, Ci,H,.Oj minns 3H plus 3CH3-C„H„0,.
Besides these two tannins, those of coffee and cachou are the
only ones which have been obtained in a relatively definite form.
TANNING. See Leather.
TANTALUM. A rare element closely allied to
NiOBltrM. See vol. xvii p. 513.
TANTALUS, a hero of ancient Greek myth and
legend. He wa8 a son of Zeus and Pluto ("Wealth"),
and became the father of Pelops, Proteus, and Niobe. He
dwelt in splendour on Mount Sipylus near Smyrna, and
was admitted to the table of the gods themselves. But
he abased the divine favour by revealing to mankind the
secrete he had learned in heaven, or by killing his son
Pelops and serving him up to the gods at table. Another
story was that he stole nectar and ambrosia from heaven
and gave them to men. According to others, Pandareus
stole a golden dog which guarded the temple of Zeus in
Crete, and gave it to Tantalus to take care of. But, when
Pandareus demanded the dog back, Tantalus denied that
he had received it. Therefore Zeus turned Pandareus into
a stone, and flung down Tantalus with Mount Sipylus on
the top of him. The punishment of Tantalus in the lower
world was famous. He stood up to his neck in water,
which fled from him when he tried to drink of it ; and
over his head hung fruits which the wind wafted away
whenever he tried to grasp them. From this myth is
derived the English word "tantalize." Another story is
that a rock bung over his head ready to fall and crush
him. The tomb of Tantalus on Mount Sipylus was pointed
out in antiquity, and has been in modem times identified
by Texier with the great cairn beueath Old Magnesia;
but Prof. W. M. Ramsay inclines to identify it with a
remarkable rock-cut tomb beside Magnesia. The story of
Tantalus contains a reminiscence of a semi-Greek kingdom
which had its seat at Sipylus, the oldest and holiest city
of Lydia, and one of the chief birthplaces of early Greek
civilization. Of this ancient city the remains are still
visible on the northern slope of Mount Sipylus, and about
4 miles east of Magnesia. They consist of sepulchral
mounds, rock-cut tombs, and a small acropolis perched on
an almost inaccessible crag which juts out from the nearly
perpendicular limestone wall of Mount Sipylus, There
was a tradition in antiquity that the city of Tantalus had
been swallowed up in a lake on the mountain ; but the
legend may, as Prof. W. M. Ramsay thinks, have been
suggested by the vast ravine which yawns beneath the
acropolis.' This acropolis is too small ever to have been
the seat of a great empire ; rather, like Pessinus and other
great religious centres of Asia Minor, it may have been
" the seat of a priestly suzerainty maintained over the
hiero-douloi [sacred slaves] of the surrounding district."
Connected as the city was on the one hand with the sea,
and on the other with the capital of the ancient kingdom
of Phrygia by means of the " royal road," it was a natural
meeting-place for Greek and Oriental culture. A com-
parison of the art of Phrygia with the early art of Mycense
and Olympia has fully confirmed the legend which con-
nects the family of Tantalus with the Peloponnesus.
See Pelops, Phryoia, and a paper by Prof. W. M. Ramwy In
Journal of Hdlenic Studies, iii. p. 33 »J.
TAOIS^L See Lao-tszb.
TAORMENA {Tauromenium), now an unimportant vil-
lage of about 3000 inhabitants, is magnificently situated
at the edge of a precipitous cliff 900 feet high on the east
coast of Sicily, about 32 miles from Messina and the same
from Catania. The original city was founded by a tribe
of Siculi after the destruction of the neighbouring city of
Naxos in 403 B.C. by Dionysius of Syracuse. It was built
on the hill of Taurus, whence came the name Tavpo/jo-ioi'
(Diod., xiv. 58). In 358 B.C. the city was increased by
the settlement of the exiled survivors from Naxos, which
was only 3 miles distant ; and hence Pliny (H. N., iii. 8)
speaks of Naxos as having been the original name of
Tauromenium. Owing to its commanding site, the city
has frequently been the scene of important struggles.
When with the rest of Sicily it passed into the possession
of the Romans, it shared with two other Sicilian cities the
privileges of a "ci vitas foederata." During the Servile
War (134-132 B.c.) Tauromenium was occupied by a
body of rebel slaves, but was finally taken by the consul
Rupilius, and the whole garrison slaughtered. In 36 B.C.
it was one of Sextus Pompey's chief strongholds in his war
with Augustus, who after his victory established a Roman
colony there. Under the empire it was a flourishing city,
famed for iu wine (Pliny, H. Jf., xiv. 6) and red mullets
(Juv., v. 93). In 902 a.d. it was taken from the Byzan-
tine emperor by the Saracens, who called the place Moezzia.
In 1078 it was captured by the Normans. A large
number of ancient remains bear witness to its former
importance. Fine autonomous silver coins of c. 300 B.C.
exist, with otm. a laureated head of Apollo, and reti. a
tripod, with the legend TAYPOMENITAN, and a magis-
trate's initials AI. The theatre is, next to that it Aspendus
(Pamphylia), the best preserved in existence. It is Greek
in plan, but the existing structure belongs mostly to the
Roman period, and is specially remarkable for the preserva-
tion of its lofty Bcena wall, and two large chambers which
form entranee-porchee to the cavea. It is excavated in an
' Ugends of aubmaiged dUes and castles are common In different
parte of Enropa. It hat bean anggssted that they are conftuad recol-
lections of the anoiant TlUagat bnUt on piles in lakea (Wood-Martin,
Laht Dvtllingt qf IrtlOHd, p. 88).
I
A
T A P — T, A r
49
elevated peak of rock, aud commands one of tbe oiost
magnificent views io the "n-orld, with Mount Etna in the
distance. Remains of five piscinie and a large bath,
popularly called a uaumachia, still exist, together with
remains of the ancient city wall and that of the arx.
See Serrtdifaloo, AnluhM di Sicilia, Palermo, 1834-42, vol. v. ;
Uittorff uid Zanth, ArchiUclun AtUiqiu de la Sidle, Paris. 1870.
TAPACULO, the name* given in Chili to a bird of
singular appearance, — the Pteroptochtis albicollis of ornitho-
logy,— and. throughout this series of articles (Birds,
vol. iii. p. 743 ; Ornithology, vol. xviii. p. 40, et alM),
apphed in an extended sense to its allied forms, which are
now found to constitute a small Family, PteroptocJiidx,
Tapaculo.
belonging to the Tracheophonous division of Passeres, and
therefore peculiar to South America. About 20 species,
which are disposed by Mr Sclater (Ihis, 1874, pp. 189-
206) in S genera, are believed to belong to this group.
The species of the Family first made known is Snjiatopns
nwgellaiucus, originally descnbed in 1783 by Latham (Si/uopsts.
iv. p 464) as a Warbler. Even in 1836 Gould not unnaturally
took it for a Wren, when establishing the genus to which it is
now referred : but some ten years after Johannes Mnller found
that ScyUilopiis, together with the true Tapaculo, which w.is first
described by Kittlitz in 1830, possessed anatomical characters that
removed them far from any position previously assi^ed to them,
and determined their true place as above given. In the meanwhile
a kindred form, Hylacles, also first described in 1830, had been
shewn by Eyton to have some very exceptional osteologn-al features.
and these were found to be also common to PlcTuptochus and
ScytaUmus. In 1860 Prof Cabanis recognized the Pleroplochida:
as a distinct Family, but made it also include Menvra [cf. Lyre-
bird, vol. XV. p 115), and in 1874 Mr Sclater («/ stipra) thought
that AlTiehia (cf. ScRUBBiRD. vol. xxi. p. 5f>i) might belong here
It was Garrod in 1876 and 1877 who finally divested the Family of
these aliens, hut. until examples of some of the other genera have
been anatomically examined, it may not be safe to say that they
all belong to the PtcropUxhidte.
The true Tapaculo (P. albicollis) has a general resem-
blance in plumage to the females of some of the smaller
Shrikes (Lanius), and to a cursory observer its skin might
• Of Spanish origin, it is intendexl as a reproof to the bird for the
•bameless way in which, by erecting its tail, it exooses its hinder parts.
It has been sometimes misspelt "Tapacolo." as by Mr Darwm. who
gave (/ourruU of JieseaTCh^^, chap. xiL ) a brief but entertaining account
of the habits of this bird, and its relative, HylacUs jTugapod^ut, called
by tbe Chilenos "El Turco."
23—4
pass for that of one ; but its shortened wings and powerfuJ
feet wculd on closer inspection at once reveal the differesce.
In life, however, its appearance must be wholly unlike, for
it rarely flies, hops actively on the ground or among
bushes, with its tail erect or turned towards its head, and
continually -utters various and strange notes, — some, says
Mr Darwin, are " like the cooing of doves, others like tbe
bubbling of water, and many defy all similes." The "Turco,"
Hylacles megapodius, is larger, with greatly developed feet
arjd claws, but is very similar in colour and habits. Two
more species of HylacUs are known, and one other of
Pteroptochtis, all of which are peculiar to Chili or Patagonia. '
The species of Scytalopus are as small as Wrens, mostly of
a dark colour, and inhabit parts of Brazil and Colombia, one
of them occurring so far northward as Bogota. (a. n.)
TAPESTRY. See Textiles.
TAPE-WORMS, or Cestoda, are a group of worms^
forming one ' of the three mam divisions of the Plnty-
helminthes, the other two being the Twbellana (sec
Pla.n.\kians and Nemertines) and Trematoda (.sec
Trematoda). They have been defined as follows : — " Flat
worms without mouth or alimentary canal, which typically
develop by alternation of generations, by budding from a
generally pear-shaped nurse, with which they remain united
for a lengthened period as a ribbon-like colony or ' strobila.'
The individual joints of the colony, i.e., the sexual animals
or ' proglottides,' increase in size and maturity as they are
removed farther from their origin by the intercalation of
new buds, but are not distinguished in any special way.
The nurse, however, known by the name of the ' head'
(scolex) IS provided with four or two suckers, and usually
with curved claw-like hooks. The dorsal and ventral
surfaces. of the head are perfectly identical, so that the
arrangement of the hooks presents a strikingly radiate
appearance. By means of this apparatus the worms fasten
themselves on the intestinal membrane of their hosts,
which (except in. the case of the otherwise peculiar
Archigetes) all belong to the Vertelrata. The nurses
develop from little round six-hooked embryos m a more
or less complicated fashion as so-called ' bladder- worms.'
The latter inhabit very diverse, but usually parenchym-
atous, organs of the higher and lower animals, and are
thence passively transferred to the intestine of their
subsequent host" (Leuckart, 1,' p. 270).
Histonml Sketch. — Certain forms of Cestodes have
been known from time immemorial. The hydatid cyst is
alluded to by early medical writers, and Aristotle speaks
of examining the tongue of pigs to ascertain the presence
of bladder-worms. By this author and Hippocrates tbe
Cestodes and other flat worms are spoken of as IKnivDc;
irkaTiiai, 111 Opposition to the o-rpoyyiJAQi or "round
worms"; the word Tama (Gr. Taii-ia) does not occur m
Greek authors, but is first used by the Romans (Pliny,
H. N., XI. 33). In the treatises of the Middle Ages the
tape-ivorm figured as Lumlmcus latus, only one species
being recognized. Felix Plater (23) separated Bothne-
cephal-us from the other human tape-worms, and Andry
(24) gave it the name Tmta it epme, mistaking tLe
nodular generative organs for vertebrie. The apjiellation
liothriocephatus latus dates from Breniser, 1819 (25). Like
other Entozoa. tbe tapeworms and bladder-worms were
supposed to arise by spontaneous generation ; it was found,
however, that animal forms strikingly like the £ni(,:oii
sometimes lived freely. Pallas (19), seeing that the eggs of
intestinal worms are expelled from the animals iii whicL
they live, and may remain for some time unaltered in
water, suggested the hypothesis that the Eutozoa agree
with other animals in originating from eggs which can lie
' These figures refer to the bibliographv. pp. 55, 56
XXIIL — 7
50
TAP E:vW 0 R M S
carried from one animal to another. ^He aLso * supposed
that they reached the liver and other internal organs by
means of the blood-streanx Other authorities endeavoured
to explain the presence of Entozoa by supposing that they
were transmitted from parents to children. Von Siebold
(26) in 1S38 discovered the si.x-hooked embryos of Taenia^
and came to the conclusion that they could only pass into
the- fuUy-formed animal by a kind of metamorphosis. The
subject was fully discussed by Eschricht (27), who endea-
voured to prove that this phenomenon was of common
occurrence among the Entozoa. Shortly afterwards ap-
peared Steenstrup's famous work upon the alternatioD of
generations (28), which furnished a ready explanation of
the isolated facts till then observed regarding the Cestodea.
The most important advances in modern times have been
due to the- introduction of helmiothological experiment by
Kiichfinmeister, by means of which the demonstration has
been furnished that certain bladder-worms are the larval
stages of particular tape-worms. The first of these ex-
periments took place in 1851, when Kiichenmeister fed a
dog with bladder-worms from the rabbit, and a cat with
■Specimens from the mouse, and succeeded in rearing tape-
worms in their intestines (29). Similar investigations on
'different species have been made by Van Beneden, Leuckart,
and others. Of systematic treatises the most important
are those of Rudolphi (35). Diesing (20), and Van Beneden
(13), while Von Linatow, in addition to numerous scat-
tered papers (30. 36), has given us an invaluable list of
hosts with their respective para-sites (21).
Anatomy.
Id considering the anatomical [leculi.irities of the Cfstoda it will
be convenient to describe one jiarticuKir specie? and afterwards to
iodicate the chief differences presented by other members of the
group. For this purpose Taenia saghutta. Goze(7'. mcdiocandlata,
' Kuchenmeister), may be seletud as a tyj'e, as it has been peiha|>s
more studied than any other, nnd is one of the species most
■oommonly found in man . for further details, see Soninicr (31)
■ Dim'fTisions — .^n Tvi^rage specimen of this tape-worm (fig. 1, A)
•will measure in a state of moderate contraction about 500 cm , an<l
' consist of nearly 1 lOu S'-gmcnts : of those uhit.!i immediately follow
"the head more th.m 250 will be fonnd within a length of 5 cm. ;
they gradually wiJen poslcrioily, untd the widtst, which are
situated about half way down the chain, h^ve a brcadtli of \i mm
and a length of 6 mm . whilst the terminal segments measuie 5
mm in breadth by 19 mm. in length
, The head (Hg 1. R; is spheroidal. 1 5 mm in diameter, and bears
on Its lateral surface four equidistant suckers, which serve for the
attachment of the whole worm. After death these are genei-ally
retracted, but during life thfy can be protruded and moved in all
directions. They are a spefial develo|ttnent of the musculature of
the body wall, the radial fibres being the most conspicuous. The
tapeworm now being described is abnnimal. inasmuch as the front
of U3 head is not provided with a circlet of hooks; these are well
8ecn, howuver, in the other common human tape-worm {Txnia
Solium), which bears a double ring of them, situated around a
button shaped muscular pad {roslclliiui) which forms the apex of
the head (fig. \, C). By the varying contraction of the sejiaratc
parts of this organ the hooks may be moved in different direc-
tions, aftd when tlie worm is attaching itself they are 'first
extended directly forwards, and then brought bark so as to force
the robtellum into the tissues of the host. Each hook has a broad
bifid base, to which tlie muscles are attached, supporting a long
curved point In Txnia saguuita, to the consideration of which
we no* return, the rostellum is quite rudimentary, and lias
been described by^ earlier authors as a fifth sucker or even as a
mouth , it IS interftting to note that during its incipient stages it
bears a number of minute spines homologous with the hooks of
othef species. The head contains furthermore the anterior portions
ftf the nervous and excretory systems. The latter of these consists
of an annular vessel fTlaccd immediately below the rostellum,
froip wliich four canals, corresponding to the four suckers, pass
backwards: tuo of th?se gradually disappear, leaving two which
pursue their course down the proglottides, in connexion with
which they will be again alluded to, and open at the hinder
extrcmitv of the worm by a common pore The nervous system
of tlie Cestodea was long, sought in vain: although eome early
ihvestigaters described a ganglion, they were unable to give any
Ratikfactorx. proof of its existence, this having been first furnished
^ SchaeiJer. It •e«ina generHlly to consist of & ceatrai ganglioD
lying within the head, fnjffi -ti'iiich tw<j cords [rrocwd backwards,
these were regarded by Sommer and Landois as part of the ali-
mentary system. Niemiec (5) has recently given a detailed account
of its structure in several different species, and'its relations have
been discussed by Lang (7).
The proglottides arise by a species of budding in the narrow
neck which immediately succeeds the head; they are separated
from each other by groove^ which are- at first so shallow and
Flc. I. — Anatomy of Txnia (frnm Leuckan). A, Portions ol Titnia iaymnia'
X i. B. head o( the sainu . x 8. C. lieaJ of T. toliutn showmt; uie ciown ol
hooks, X 22. D. * scRmint of T fagniata. showing ti^c gcntt.itivc oipans
n., nervous syst'-ni ; ei., IfingituJinai excn-tury tuliti ; tr , ii.insvci''e vessel
g.p . ccniial papilla; cl .cloaca: t.p.. ^lrl^^I•ouch; vd .\as dcfticns. ( f.. lesica
v.. vagina: oo or . ovuriis. sh,g . 5ln.ll cluncj, y 7,. yolk gland, r * .rcccptaculum
semiois. «r. uterus; x 7 E. liiccnnnejiionsof IhegtntTativeoiKnns.leilctlng
as ^bove o t/.. 0 d . ovirtucts , /, feitilizmi; c.niil; x 3i K. drrnclitd scgmtnl
ol r.jJs^inflfo. showing rli'cuterua; X / G.iix-hooktdembryu. highly maginfled.
indistinct that it is impossible to say with certamty where the
segmentation really begins. The proglottides whiLh have attained
sexual maturity are situated some 30-40 cm. from the head, and
measure 15 mm. in length by 5 mm. in breadth. Jhe segments,
like the head, consist of a solid mass of tissue in which the varioui
organs are inibedded. Like the Trematodes, the Cestodes were lonj:
thought to have no body-cavity or cctloni, and hence were called
*' parenchymatous" worms. Recently, however, a series of inter-
cellular spaces has been described by Fraipont (8) as leading into"
the terminal excretory organs, and these sr>aces have been inter-
preted both by himself and others as the nomologue of a body*
cavity, although this ojHnion has not been allowtd to" pass
unchallenged {sec Pintirer, 9). The surface of the body is covered
by a thin clear homogeneous cuticle, which, according to some
authoriiu-s, is perforated by fine closely-set pores. The hooks
which have been described above, as well as the small spines and
bristlee found in certain species, are developments of this cuticle.'
This external covering cannot, according to Leuckart (1, p. 289),'
be regarded as homologous with the cuticle of other invertebrates,
inasmuch as it is Jiot a secretion from a»special layer of subjacent
cells, but is "the structureless limiting membrane of the connective
tissue substance,, and fa comparable with the so-called basement-
membrane found ifi the other flat-wormB . . . between the muscular
layer and the dermal epithelium.'* It la to b« observed, however;
that this view has by no means found univerul acceptance (set
TAP E-W O R M S
51
Steadener. 10), and it is o priori improbable, ^ince the Cestodes
(and Trematodcs) would tlna form an cTctption to the general rule
by which all animals arc clad with an epithelium derived fjom the
embryonic ectoderm. Tlie subcuticular layer is described as con-
-sisving of long fusiform cells (probably modified rcnnectivctis'sue
tt!l5) disjiosed perpendicularly to the cuticle. It seems possible
•tt«; they are in direct connexion with the transverse muscles of
the body. The matrix of the Cestode body consists of connective
tSffiue, the cells composing which are seldom providcil with ,a dis-
tinct membrane, and sometimes can only be separately distinguished
by their nuclei. The layer of muscles (see lielow) separates this
matnx into a central and a cortical portion. Distributed in it, and
«spe.-ially in its cortical portion. areUnmerous calcareous corpuscles,
which are generally spheroidal in form, varying up to 0019 mm.
in diameter aitd concentrically laminated ; tirey contain a large
imount (often 20 per cent.) of lime salts, ditfuscd through an
organic basis, from which the salts can be removed with effervescence
by the action of acids. These corpuscles have been variously inter-
preted by the older authors as eggs, or as lymph or blood corpuscles,
tut the only thecnes wliich have been seriously maintained in
modern times «re-(l) that they are skeletal (Von Siebold); (2)
that they are excretory (Claparede, Grie.sbach); or (3) that they form
a reserve store of calcareous material to be used either in counter-
acting the Odd digestive juices of the host or for the production of
egg-shells (l,enckart, 1, p. 283).
The muscular system consists of three sets of fibres— longitudinal
transverse, an.l s.igittal. The first are the best developed, and
run down the inner part of the cortical layer in the form of strong
bands : the second set lie immediatefy below them and pass across
the Ivxiy m the form of two flat muscular plates, which converge
towards each other as they approach the margins of the proglottis:
the sagittal muscles run nrimitively straight from one flat surface
of the Iwdv to the other, but their direction is much modified after
the growth of the genital oigans, between the various parts of which
they lie as isolated bundles; they are the weakest of all the sets
the muscular fibres are non-striated, and when they are fully de-
veloped no nucleus can be ilotected in them. They taper towards
the extremities, sometimes branching dichotomously, and, as above
mentioned, a connexion has been asserted to be visible between
them and the subcuticular cells.
The excretory system in the proglottides consists of two or four
rongitudinal canals which lie along their two narrow margins (fig.
1. U.a:.). The ongin of these in the head has been already noted.
and they pass continuously down the whole worm until they open
into a vesicle at the posterior extremity of the terminal segment.
In the hinder part of each proglottis they are connected by a trans-
verso ves.'iel (fig 1, D, ir.). immediately above which a valve is
fcrnjed by a duplicature of the wall, so that it is impossible to inject
the excretory system.from behind whilst fluid can be readily forced
alOMg It from before backwards. Fraipont has drawn a distinction
between ascending and descendingcanals. Excretory openings have
been described by various observers in the anterior portion of the
worm, near the suckers (Wagener, 11; Fraipont, 8; Riehm, 12)
ani, although their presence is denied by Pintncr (9), there seems
sufficient evidence to show that they are more generally present than
was formerly supposed. A ramifying network of smaller vessels
connected with the main trunks just described is found in the more
stiperficial parenchyma, and this in its turn gives off still finer
rapiUanes which terminate in ciliated funnels. According to
fraipont these open into the intercellular lacuns which are the
representatives of the calom (sec above), whilst Pintner maintains
that the terminal funnels are completely-closed, and are to be
regarded as unicellular glands. The subject, however, is one of
♦xtreme difficulty and demands further investigation. It is worthy
of notice that each of the three systems of canals above described
mainuins Its proper diameter throughout, and that ro intermediate
sizes can bo found. The "plasmatic vascular avstem" described
by bommer and Landois, and regarded by them' as part of the
alimentary .ystem, consists partly of some of theso delicate canals
and partly of the two cords of the nervous system. The main
canals open posteriorly into a pulsatile vesicle, at the end of the
last proglottis; when, however, some of these haro been cast off
the opening may be either by a shortened transverse vesicle as
Unckart (1) maintains to be the case in the present species, or by
separate openings, one for each canal.
The reproductive organs are serially repeated in the proglottides
each of which contains a complete set of male and female organs
\ag. 1, U). Ihe male organs may be discussed first The testes
uiem inwnrus trom the cloaca. The vagina (« ) opens imme.Iiat
posterior to the vas deferens, and like it is lined by a continual
ol the external cuticle. After p.issing about half way across
segment it bends backwards and terminates in a .•.mall cvst i
tion of the vas has a thickened muscular wall, and this part of it i>
capable of extrusion and retraction, thus lorming the male intro
mittent organ or "cirrus " (c.;,. ), The cuticle wliich lines alHlie
distal portion of the vas deferens is here thin and delicate and
armed with a series of minute spines, which are diiecte<l backward'
{Echennbollirnim). The cirrus in tlio present species is verv
sliort. but in other forms its length is sometimes considerable',
ihe protrusion is effected by circulaj- muscles placed around the end
of the vas dofcicns, while the retraction is brought about by special
lonptudina fibres, lying along the walls of the cvaginable portion
Ihe female organs may be most conveniently studied by Iracino
them inwards from the cloaca. The vagiii.aj« ) opens imi^ediatelj
uatioi;
the
receptaculiim scminis (fig. 1, E, r.s.);thiV7ecelves"aiui'sYores'up
the male fertilizing elcmenU. retaining them until the ova are ripe
from Its posterior extremity there passes a thin-walled canal, widct
than the vagina (/.), which serves to convey the spermatozoa to
the ova and hence is termed the " fertilizing canal "(Befiiiclitun<^.
canal of German authors). It unites with the common oviduct! a
tube formed by the union of the two oviducts (o.rf.), and the two
together nass b.ickwards into a spherical glandular structure called
from Its discoverer " Mehlis's body" or the shell glan.l (fi^ 1 D
and E shg.). Within this apparatus it receives the diict^of tli(
yolkgland (yg.), and then passes directly forwards to open int(
the uterus. The ovaries (ou.) are two in number, situated one on
each side of the middle line of the body; they arc fan-shaped
and consist of a system of blind tubules situated on a biancheii
efferent duct. The cells of the ovary (primitive cg^s) hive a shaif
contour and a large nucleus; the yolk-gland (j/.y ) is very simila.
to the ovaries, behind and between which it is situated but i-
(t. O are very numerous and scattered throughout the greater part
of the proglottis; they are round vesicles (0 15 mm. in diameter)
containing spermatozoa, and attached like berries to the termina
reniificatlon3oftlievasdeferens(v.rf.); these gradually unite form-
ing larger and larger branches until they reach the main canal
which runs in a aeries of coils transversely half way across the
Joint a little behind its middle, and ends in a common cloaca
' ;iJ' -'i T^'^'* '*°"' ""^ "»'■' """1 f''"ial« organs, and if coc-
atettH mM\ the nater world by the porus genitciia. The ooter por.
distinguished by vorious histological details (it is called "ovary
by Moniez). The shellgland, formerly regarded as the ovarv
consists of closely compressed nucleated cells, and is provide.!
with small thin ducts opening into the narrow internal cavin
of the organ. The uterus («(.). in its early stage of development'
is a long straight tube, lying almost in the longitudin.al axii
01 the proglottis, and receiving posteriorly the oviduct after ii
emerges from the shell-gland (fig. 1, E, ««.). From what has beer
said It will^ appear that the ova on their way down the comnioi
ovidHct are impregnated as they pass the end of the fertilizin" canal
and then receive in succession, first their supply of food-yolk and
their shell, during their sojourn in Jlehlis's body, after which the}
go forwards into the uterus, where tliey undergo the first star-cs ol
their development The uterus assumes a very different sha°pe a-
It becomes distended with eggs, which are far too numerous to bt
contained in a simple straight tube; small protuberances arise from
its walls, growing rapidly and bifurcating here and there, so as
to produce the complicated branched appearance seen in fi.^ 1 F
As the nterus grows, the male, and later the female, genitalia
degenerate and disappear, and in the proglottides which are icady
to be liberated the only organ visible is the distended uterus. One
of the most characteristic peculiarities in the sexual system just de
scribed is that there is no passage by which the ripe eggs can make
their exit from the proglottis; the.se are theiefoie extruded only
on its rupture ; a very different state of things obtains in the geniis
Bothriocephalus (see below). Self impregnation certainly occur-
and IS probably the rule; it is obvious that the contrary case caii
only happen where two individuals lie side by side within the
same host. Furthermore, the cirrus has been seen protruded into
the vagina of the same joint, and the tmisMon of sperm has been
witnessed (Leuckart, 1; Van Pencdcn, 13, p. 601).
The eggs are ovoid or spherical, and consist of the germ cell
(nncleus and protoplasm) with an albuminous envelopingsnbstance
which IS again surrounded by a thin transparent skin The shell
frequently presents one or more appendages, probably the secretion
ol the shell-gland drawn out into threads. The structure of the
egg has been best studied in Titnia serrata (Van Bencden 14)
where it consists of a delicate shell containing a gemi-cell with a
quantity of secondary yolk; the former divides into * "granular'
cell, which segments no further, and an "embryonic- globe, which
again divides into a number of cells, of which three are larger and
constitute the "albuminogenous layer," whilst the remainder are
smaller and form the "embryonic mass," and .secrete a delicate
superficial cnticio, the cell-limits being indistinct In the embry-
onic mass from three to five flattened ceUs form a chitinogenoiis
layer and give origin tp a superficial homogeneous coat, a shell
of radially disposed chitinoid cylinders, and an internal faintly
striated lining, whilst the remaining cells become the six-hooked
embryo or proscolgx, a superficial layer to wliich the hooks belong
and a central mass of clearer cells. When the proscolex is mature
the original egg-shell and the albuminogenous layer disappear, and
only the chitinoid coats remaii^
The proglottides are cast off by muscular action ; the Hbres are not
continuous between the successive segments, so that these are con
nwted mcrfljy bysoft eomuwUTe tiaaoe, which readily gives way the
TAPE-WORMS
T4.clewh,ch forms the termmat.on of the excretory system.
Life-History and Development.
Tl,n .nx hooked embryo (fig. 1, G) may be conveyed to the inter-
mavtrk'e place either by n.eans of free eggs o. by whole ,- oglot^
may take place eu J , f, tissues are fi rat digested by the
shorSr t ra^free .n the stoofach or intestine. prooeJs to per orate
Jhewall Tf thS^e or-ans by means of active buirowing motions.
Although th^ibTyo of a r^HU. has only once been captured in
annougu lu ^ / alimentary canal (Raum. 10,
which It has been found by more than one observer Ihis xouui
«i ^a,n the frciueocy with which the next sU"e .a found in the
fil'll ThereTeenis however, reason to believe tTiat many embryos
nect.ve tissue, with a cellular ining, and ^"'""".^ ''^^^^,;,^'°,"e
cavity within, this --""?■ 'r;;t;;, ''r°Vtemb'o now
C^oTs'tu'sizTTntr^ri/tco^'ig somewhat elongated, ind the
irk:7roro^r^^rometn,.,they;.nhe^f
X-'rd'ir^nTe^r:! .'e;^P ^ormingt ^uan^^^
-IdTaVn'g fn length fron. . . 8 - ^^^^^^ ^llfeSe^r
uture ne*u , rudimentary head thus formed is about 0 i
%r"^;eTo;mtr.r'X'"adrupe worm Ukes place only
r.^r e neck of the «>orn, are dissolved by the gastric ju.cc The
next the neck oi li e ,„,estine its snckei-»
heajd »•'y;-,,y'•^,'^„'':er lively motions, which serve to bniig
:^ut u^ a 1 1 n 0 thV intestmal wall. It .radnally increases
about IS B''»y " = formation of segments speedily commences.
under favourable circumstances (that I., within 'h° >""»'-'''^'«^;
tinue to CTow after being detached from the parent chain; it c*nn«
be Lid! Cever, that tlie evidence upon which this resu is qintt
fncfntrovertible. Regarded from this point of view the life-history
no ..-Deveu>p.ent C -r^u (--- .^-l^'"^^ ^,,?rl-uT°:ZZl\'rf^
L-p^feflo'lSL;. V'rl-e^C .n«o.ll,ep^^c^^^^^
luhoulh maintained ^^ -^-rdir.:c"uo"rhas iee"n 'd^- ^'
^rnTierrTi^iLp t,:. budding seen ^^^^^
- ra''S^:;^"^A" ~ C new ..nn. to the .-
— ::;t::.fo^^:^f3"E"=rn,'-^
=^'€;i;r^^otj^^en".^.-
where there is a proliferation <>' heads " ' , ^asjustbeeo
The Cestode larva, "rresponding to the stage wh j^ ^^^^
described present '^»"V'^"»,^''L'^"' 'X eronp have been based.
^-rTrc^^ritadVerarl'f^o^lheVoscolexhys.^^
„„!, sTmctura. -•'''■S-J;- -ryU''Ld"s";Ll«orarso
parts A larger or smaller quantuy oi n t CyUuercy,
surrounded, not only bJ '^e body o^ tn „„„ jh,
^b;ihrbXot^.rw\r:ndrtuy£fdd^ c.u..(.ror.,
'/.^6n.), 'Stapky^cyst.. f'"-"^''"' fjCCoup, and regarding
Of these the most important are the brst g o p =6
some of them a few words must be ^dde^ J^J aod such bladder-
of species only one Upe-worm ''^,^j';.P^''„",7he older hclmintho
worms constituted the genus Cys'-;^"" »' '^^ ^ „„,.„ „hvck
logists in certain ^^-i ^^"w"", noU>Wy inj^ ^^^ ^^^^_^ _^
produces the staggers of ^"".f ' °" ,„„„j ,he genus Comurus,
fhe wall of each bladder , such '''^^^ J°™Xre are nostructun.1
»rtrs.t;ye^p5?i=j^^
develop "ithoul un intetuiedlMe host
T A P E - W O R M S
53
wcrm (EchirXKoccus) is charattoriwtl l>y tlic fact tlwt the tai«:-woiiii
kcads irc not Oirectly devcloncJ in the wsll of the blaihlcr itself,
but from " brootl capsules" which lie in iiunibei's oo the inner wall
•f the bladder.
Development of Oic Echmoaxciis. — The smallest bladiler jfc seen
was reared by Lcuckart in the pig, and consisted of a minute proto-
plasmic mass surrounded by a structureless cuticle. This cuticle
thickens by <lenosition of new layers as growth proceeds, and the
lamination of tne cuticle is one of the characteristic peculiarities of
the t'ckinococciis, another being the absenec of an excretory system.
At certain points in the parencltynia lining the cyst small warts
are noticed {fig. 2, D,a), wliich enlarge and become hollow ; tlien the
cavity enlarges in a direction opposite to the point of origin, mid at
the extremity of this hollow suckers and hooks are formed as in the
ease of Cysticerats described above {!/, c). No sooner has the devel-
opment of tlie first of these rcacheil a certain degree of completencss-
thaa othei-s arc formed in simihir fashion. The lirst part of tlie
invagination takes plaec, by which the future head comes to lie
within the brood-capsule and the pedicle is no longer hollow but
solid le) ; the suckers and books are. liowever, still invagiiiated,
and remain .so for a considerable iwriod. Seeing that the interior
of the brood-cai>snle is lined with cuticle, it corresponds to the
outside of tlie parent cyst, and hence is probably the representative
of a previous invagin.ition. If this be so tlien the develojmient of
£chiiiococciix would be quite comparable with that of Cysliccrais,
the only difference being that, instead of the liead being an inva-
gination of the wall of the tyst itself, it is S secondary invagina-
tion, the prini.iry being the brooil-capsulc. This does not, however,
exhaust the ivceuliarities of the Echuiococcus ; the form just de-
'icrtbed, witii a simple cyst and brood-capsules, is common in
cattle, and hence goes by the name of Eckuiococcii3 vcterinoi~tim ;
but cases are frequent, i>nd are the most common in tlic human
'subject, in which the cyst contains daughter-vesicles, difl'eriiig
from those just described in being stcrile^giving rise to no heads.
These daughter-bladders may originate in three different w.-iys :
(1) from little granular heaps, which arc seen between the different
layers of the cuticle, and which are jn-obably derived primarily from
the parenchymal layer, — since new layers of cuticle are continually
formed internally, these bladders gradu-iHyniake their way out-
wards, until they come to lie externally to the mother-vesicle
{Echinococcits exogena, Kuhn ; K. scoleciparie-i\s, Kuchenmeister) ;
(2) from brood-capsules ; (3) from EckiiwcocctLS-ht^&'Xs ; these last
two modes of development give rise to vesicles, which are within the
mother-vesicle, and produce a forni which has been variously called
EchinocoiCKts ejidogejia, Kuhn, £. altriciparicns, Kuchenmeister,
and £. hydatidosus, A very remarkable form is Echinococcus
muUUocularis, which consists of a number of very small "Vesicles
embedded in a common soft stroma; it is found exclusively in
man, and for long was regarded as a form of alveolar cancer.
The mode of its development is unknown (for further iaformation,
•ee Virchow, 17J. Compound bladders occur in man anil the ox,
V'hilst other ruminants, swine, and monkeys usually harbour the
simple or exogenous forms. The organs most often affected are
liver and lungs. The adult tape-worm {T. echinococcus) is found
in the intestine of the dog, jackal, and wolf, occurring in consider-
able numbers between the villi. Its length (fig. 3, A) is at most
6 mm. and it consists of only three or four segments; the head has
6)ur suckers and a double circlet of hooks.
Pathological Effects.
The pathological effects of Cestodes fall naturally into
two categories — (1) those due to the adult worm, and
(2) those due to the larvae or bladder worms.
(1) Those «f the first group are in general slight, being
confined to the abstraction of a certain amount of nutri-
ment, and to a more or less acute feeling of irritation,
sometimes amounting even to colic like pains, in the
intestine. There have indeed been many authorities who
have maintained that they were beneficial ; Jordens went
80 far as to describe them as the good angels and unfailing
helpers of children, and Schimper records that the Abys-
sinians consider .that they prevent constipation, and only
regard them as disadvantageous when they grow too long.
Notwithstanding all this, however, there are not a few
cases on record in which anajmia and neurotic, or even
mental, diseases have been caused by the malnutrition
and irritation which they occasion.'
^ Tlie method of treatment for the removal of these tiiit'-wnniis
froni the human lio*ly eoiiHi.sts in tlie ailminiHtration, first of pnr^pitivefl,
*uii thereafter of one <>r other of the following antbeliuintic«: — tur-
{K&tiUf, male leni iLit.^.trt-tt Fitix-tntia^ |*(<iiiegrana(i^, or l;oiiiiau, — of
(2) The effects of Cestode larva; may again be divided
into two subdivisions. (a) iThat due to the invasion
and wandering of a large brood of si.x-hooked . embryos
has been most successfully- studied in cases in which
animals have been fed for experimental purposes with
fragments of ripe tape-worms ; in such instaocift a train of
symptoms has been observed to which the name "acute
cestodic tuberculosis" has been given. It is characterized
by loss of appetite, fatigue, ruffling of the hair, and fever ;
on post-mortem examination it has been found that the
lymphatic system is in a state of inflammation, while the
muscles present the appearance which has already been
described. (4) The effects of formed bladder-worms may
be summed up as dependent upon the pressure of the
growing cyst and the consequent absorption of the sur-
rounding tissues of the host, so that the importance of the
results depends almost entirely upon the organ wliich is
affected- Bladder-worms in the brain are, of course, the
most frequently fatal, especially when, as is not unfre-
quently the case, they exert pressure upon the ganglia
at its base. Kiichenmeister has collected a considerable
number of occurrences of cystic worms in the brain ;
among these sixteen were not accompanted by pathological
symptoms during life; in six others these were slight;
twenty-four were cases of epilepsy, six of cramp, forty-
two of paralysis, and twenty-three of mental disturbances
of varying intensity. Ci/sticerci in the brain vary greatly
in size and form according to the jirecise situation which
they occupy ; in its ventricles they have been found as
large as a pigeon's egg. In the meshes of the arachuoid
the bladder sometimes grows into a remarkably branched
structure, which has been called C^sticercus racemostis by
Zenker (3). Another peculiar form from tlie same organ
ha;3-been described by Koberlo (4) ; it is characterized by
the great length of its head-process (2 cm ), which is coiled
up into a regular spiral of sometimes three turns ; it has
received the name Ci/sticerctis tu>bi7MtuSj though its specific
distinctness is doubtful. The ocoui'rence of Cysticeni in
Jhe eye is of special interest, because of the opportunity it
affords of observing, by means of the ophthalnmscopc, the
development of the worm in its natural environment. It
seems generally to lie at first below the retina, and is
visible as a bluish-white sharply defined body; subse-
quently the retina is destroyed by the pressure, and the
worm falls forward into the vitreous body; sometimes the
head jnay_be_seen protruding first^Kmgh the_ opening;
in the chambers of the eye the Cyslicercus is almost
always free, that is, without a capsule, and swimming in
the fluid, so that its form and motions may be readily
and accurately observed. A large number of cases of litis
affection have been recorded, jirincipally by Von Graofo in
Berlin (5), and in some the bladder has been successfully
removed by operation.
The special symjitoms of the Echinococcus Viiiy^likc
those of other bladder-worms, with its situation and size :
when it grows within cavities with more or less firm limits
compression of adjoining vesseJs and glandular passages
often results, producing cedema, varicose veins, co^ngestion
of various organs, or even dyspna?a, if the iiarasite occur
in the thorax. The IKer is its most fre(|uent seat, ami
next the lung , but there is scarcely any organ of tin.
body in which it has not been found, even the bone; being
sometimes affected. Since the expanding cyst grjws in
the direction of least resistance, it has a tendency to pa!w
whiLh the firs't two are the most reliable. Tuipeiitiiie may be <:iveii
ill h.-ilf.oiince doses nloiig with castor oil, or made up into an emulsion
with yolk of egg ; while the male fern is usually administered iii the
form of li«|uid extract (h.iii a dMchiii to one tlraehiii). Careful seiin li
bUuuUI lie made in the evaeuations for the head or scolex, without the
uipuliiioii nf which then- ix no certaiu evidence that the itarasttejias
betm rvuiovtiil (rum lli« boily.
54
TAPE-WORMS
towards the surface of organs, and sometimes a cure is
affected spontaneously by its rupturing into the alimentary
canal or into some other jwissage leading to the exterior.
Ca^es in which the cyst opens into the blood-vessels are
Fig. 3.— Vdrious Forms 0/ Tape-Worms A, Tfita crhtnocorrus; x 12 (from
Leuckart). R. A'rhigeles tiebotdt; x tiO(from Lcuckait)- C,Echinobolhrium
tvput; X 10 {from Van Beneden). H, Caryophyl/xus mulabilis; x about 5
(irom Curua),
almost always suddenly fatal. When the Echinococciis
occurs n^ar the surface of the body, it may be evacuated
by puncture' and a cure effected with but little risk.
Systematic Arrangement of the Ccstoda.
Tlie following classification of the Cestodes. based mainly Oil tliat
of Van Ueiieden, exhibits the present state of our knowledge of
the group ; —
Class Ccstoda.
Faitiily I- Amphilinid<B. — Body oval, flattened, with a surker
at the anterior extremity ; testes vesieular, vas deferens
opening posteriorly; ovary (gerniarium) single, yolk glands
double, vagina opening near tJievas deferens, uterus opening
mitcriorly; embryo ciliated in front and with ten hooks.
Examples; .^ni/)Ai7i7ur, Wageuer (see below), Amphiptychcs,
Wagener.
F»inily 11. CaryopkyUxidsE. — Rody unsegmented, flat, extended ;
head expanded, bilobcd, and witliout hooks ; a single set of
sexual organs in the liindcr portion ; development probably
n simplihed motamorphoiis. Example : Caryop/njU/rus
tnutabilis, from the intestine of Cyprinohl fishes {fig, 3, D).
Family III. Pscudophy^hd.T.—Wen.d provided with two sucking
grooves; proglottides not always well defined; a uterine
ajM-rture always present in addition to the openings of tlic
vas deferens and vagina; embryo always (?) with a ciliated
coat, and egg-shell with an operculum. Examples : Bcthrio-
tcphaUis (see below), Tnwnophorus { = Tricuspidarin), i>o/cno-
phorus, Sckistocephalus, Lujula, Archigdcs, and perhaps
Dufhicrsiu (see below).
Faniily IV. DiphyHidfS. — Neck and two suckers armed with
liooks. Example : Eehinnbotkrium, two species known from
Sflachians, ofic inunature from a mollusc (fig. 3, C).
Vamily V. Tctrarhijnchidx. — Head provided with four suckers
and four protractile proboscidea armed with hooks; sexual
openings marginal. Example : Tclrarhynckus (see below),
about forty species known, many only described from im-
mature forms.
/arpily VI. Teirapkyllidm.—Uc^id with four very mobile and
distinct suckers, which are often armed with hooks or
chitinoua rods ; body segmented, proglottides cast otT when
mature; sexual openings marginal.
Subfamily i. Phyllobotkrinx. — Suckers withouthooks or spines.
Examples : EchencibotkTium^ rhyllobothTixim , AnUwboth-
rium, a few species of each, all from Elasmobranch fishes.
Subfamily ii. PhyllacaTUhmte. — Suckers each with two to fyur
hooks. Examples : Calhohdtkriwm, OTichobothrium, Acan-
(hobotkriui^ two or Three speciee of each genua known from
^eUchiaDS.
Family Vll. Tsniadee. — Head furnished with four euck
often with a single or double circlet of hooks ; proglotlidM-
well-defined and cast off when mature ; no uterine apmrture.
Example : Ticnia (see below).
It seems advisable to odd a few details regarding some of thn
lorms alluded to in the above synopsis.
Ampkilina foliacea, described as a TremAtodc by Rudolphi, is
found in the body-cavity of the sturgeon. A number of unicellular
glands open into tlie sucker, and are surrounded by the muscles
of tliat organ; the nervous system consists of two ganglia, with
a commissure, and two lateral nerves ; the male organs resemble
those of Boihrioccphalns, the female those of the Tiematodes ; the
family is generally regarded as furnishing a connecting link be-
tween the Ccstoda and Tranatoda ; see Salensky (18) and Lang (7),
er v.e. c cp. ex.
jtAjf
Flc. 4 — B'-t\noffphaJid.€. A, A sccmcnt of Dothrweephafus tattix, sliowing the
gtncraiive oicons Iio.n the reniral surface ; fT.. excretory vessels; r, cuius;
f.p.. cirrus pouch ; i-.i/ . vus defeiens ; r.o., vaclnal openiftg ; v , vaginu ; fh^.,
shell-gland ; 01/ . oviduct ; oe.. ovary ; y,y , yolkylaod , ^<i . its duct; uf.. utci us;
U.O.. ulerlne opening, tlie testes are not vislhle (10m this ..-idc ; x 2J (fiom
Somnier and Lucdnl^l. I(. C. niarciiial and lateral views of the anterior pan of
B tnrdalu*. slinwinp the cephalic grooves: x h (from Leuckan). D, Ciliated
embryo ol tl- lalui ; x (Ju (fiom Leuckan)
Bolhrioctihului latus (32) is tlio most conspicuous c.vamiile of the
family Pscitydophylhdw, and is, moreover, notcwoithy as being the
largest lQ|ie-\vorni round in man ; its length often teaches 8 to 9
metres, and its extreme breadth ]0 to 12 mm. The head bears
two grooves, whioh correspond in position with the Hat sides of
the body. There are two (mure correctly three) genital openings,
which arc-situated, not on the margin but on the flat side of the
body, on that sniface which is nsnaily called the vcntial. The
most anterior of these is the male apertuie (fig. 4, A, c . ), and im-
mediately behind it is that of the vagina (f.o. ), so close that 011
superficial examination the two often seem to coincide. This vaginal
opening, like that of the Tmniadn-, serves for the intromission of
the penis and for the ferlliizatioii of the ova. but not for the exit
of the ripe eggs; this being |.irnidcd for by a special aperture at
the other entT of tTic uterus fiom fh.it at wni* h the eggs enter it.
This uterine opening (mo.) is situated at a s'lort distance behind
the other two. The result of this arrangement is that the eggs con
be evacuated without any injury to the proglottis, and consequently
their discharge commences before its separation from the jtarent
worm and may continue for a long period. The uterus {ut.) itself,
owing to its disposition in folded coils, when full of eggs, iMcsentS'
an irregular, rouml, lobular apj-rarance, which has been compared
to a flower or heraldic lily. The yolk-gland (i/.j.) is widely dis-
seminated in the lateral areas of the segments, and its duct-s (y.rf.)-
form a series of branching tubules, first described by Eschricht
(27) under the name "yellow ducts. " The excretory organs (cr.)
differ from those of the Tmniads!. in that the canals exhibit a reticu-
late arrangement. The embryo (lig. 4, D) as it leaves the egg \»
covered with 1 cili-ated mantle, whicli corresponds to the firm egg-
shell and associated membrane of the cystic tape-worms, and per-
haps also to the ciliated cnvelo]io of certain Trematode larva.- (see
Tkematoda). This ciliated organism swims fitely about in the
water, but after a time the six hooked pioscolex escapes from it.
The next stage in its life-history is not yet known, but it has been
recently shown by [iraun of Dorpat (33) that at a subsequent stage
it iiJbabits the pike and burbot, and develops into the sexual adiilt
when transferred to the intestine of the human subject. The
geographical distribution of Bothrwccphalia is limited; it has been
recorded with certainty in but few places outside Europe; wlifle
within that continent the coasts of the Baltic and Switzerlend m
TAPE- WORMS
oo
the principal localities, it is widely distributed in Russia, aniA has
been recorded from Poland, Denmark, Germany, as well as from
Frapce and Untain, though it is possible that the ca^es occurring
in these latter countries Jiave becrtdue toAiportatiorf:
Tlie genus Ligula has tlie segmentation obscure orindistinguish-
atie!" About six species are known. One is found encapsuled in a
monkey, one hr the common seal, others in reptiles and telcosteans.
Arxhigctes siiboldi (fi% 3. B) occurs in the body-cavity of an
Oligochstous worm {tuhifcxyiv^lorum)\ it is about 3 mm. long,
and consists of au oval body (scoleX)-, to which is attached a cylin-
drical tail (proscolex), bearing at the posterior extremity three
pairs of hooks; both these parts arc capable of motion. Thescolex
has eight longitudinal excretory canals, and a terminal vesicle;
the ventrally sitnated genital aperture is the common exit of the
vas deferens, the vagina, and a uterus separate from the latter;
the development is direct, and it attains sexual maturity without
a change of host. Duihiersia, Perner (34), contains two species,
both from the intestines of varanian lizards. The genus is
characterized by the presence of two large compressed frilled
enckers, separated by a septum and perforated at their bases.
The proglottides have three genital apertures resembling those of
Bothrioccphalus.
Fig b —Teirarhynehu$. A, GeneiMl vie**" of the worm ; x 4. B. head showing
the Suckers. prubusciJes, and excretory canals; x 25. C, portion of a pro-
bu6Ci3 showing the tu'o forma of hooks ; higiily magnified. (Alt frum Pintner.)
The genus Tctfrarhynehus was, a few years ago, made the subject
of an elaborate memoir by Pintuer (9), who investigated T. longi-
colli'i, V. Ben. The head, in whii;h its most striking anatomical
peculiarities are situated, really includes both the head and neck
of previous authors (fig- 5, A); it is some 9 "94 mm. long, but only
075 mm. in diameter, and bears at its anterior end two oblifinely
placed oval di.'iks (fig. 5, B), each of which is perforated towftrds the
apex by two round holes through wldeh the four proboscides pro-
trude. Each of these disks, moreover, shows traces of a division
into two, a fact which indicates that it is formed 'by the fusion of
two suckers corresponding to those commonly found in tape-worms.
The Hatteiiing in this genus seems to be in a direction at right
angles to that in which it usually takes place. The proboscides.
winch nre the most characteristic organs of the genus, are four in
number, and protrude from or can be retracted into the anterior
surfaceof the head. Each consists of three parts: — (1) the tootlied
portion IS the most anterior; it is shaped like a long narrow glove-
ftng'ir, liku which it is invaginable; on its external .surface it
bears rows of hooks, closely set in diagonal lines (fig. 5. C); there
art two forms of these: those which are directed outwards are
large triangular hooks, with apices pointing backwards, whilst
those situated on that surface "of the proboscis which is turned
towards the other proboscides are fine, delicate, and curved ;
between the hooks are fine uhitinous hairs; (2) the membranous
sheath is firmly attached where the general surface»of the body
passes over into the toothed portion around the orifice of the
invagination ; it consists of a thick homogeneous transparent
skin, apparently an excretion of cells lining the cavity of the pro-
boscis ; (3).the muscular portion is the most posterior of all, and is
composed of srx layers, remarkable as Containing striped muscular
fibres . throughout all these three portions'Qf the proboscis ^there
eKtends a retractor muscle. Tire action of these various structures
is not thoroughly understood, but it is probable that the proboscis is
protruded by the action of the last-nampd muscular sheath, whilst
it is retracted, after the relax.ation of this, partly by the retractor
muscle and partly by the pressure of the surrounding medium.
The family T&'/iiadw is usually" described as containing only th<»
onb genus Txnia, but, owiug to tha number and variety of its
species, of which more than 350 have been described, it has been
subdivided ^tito gi-_Qups, regurJed by different authors as geneia or
subgenera. "The subjoined arrangenifntis mainly tliat of Leuckart
It labours under the disadvantage that its chief divisions are based
upon the bladder-worm or larval stage, which is only known iil
the case of comparatively few species.
I. Cystici (cystic tape-worms). — Head rarely unarmed; usually
{provided with a rostelluin and with one or more rows of
looks; proglottides longish oval when mature; uteiug
with meaian stem and lateral branches ; the larva has a
caudal bladder containing fluid.
1. Cystotmiia, Leuckait. — The head arises in the wall of the
embryonic bladder.
a. Tasnia sagiaata, Gbze. — Without hooks (= T. wedw-
eanellata^ Kivchenmeister, =genus Tseniarhynchiis^
AVeinland).
h. Txnia solium, Rudolphi. — Head with a double
circlet of hooks.
c. Taenia acantftotrias, Weinland. — Head with a triple
circlet of Looks (•= genus Acanthotrias, Weinland).
2. Eckinococci/cr, Weinland.— The heads arise in speciaf
brood-capsules. T&nia echinococcii^, V. Siebold.
II. Cystoidci (ordinary tSpe-worms). — The larva'has no distended
caudal bladder containing fluid,
1. /fi/)nc3io/c;jt6, Weinland. — Proboscis with a single row of
small hooks. Tmnia na-iia^ V. Siebold, T. Jlavopunctala,
Weinland.
2. Dipylidium^ Leuckart. — HeaU with several rows of hooks.
vgach with a discoidal base ; a right and left -set of
•genital organs in each joint, the uterus, however, being
single and common to the twa Tsenia citcumerina,
Rudolphi (= T. dUyiicx, Batsch).
Hamann (2) has recently proposed a new genus, Ptychopkysa,
for Txnid liJieala, Gbze, - which is defined by the following
characters: — (1) the porus genitalis is on the surface and not on tlie
margin of the joints ; (2) the vagir.al opening is anterior to that of
the cirrus; (3) at a certain period the uterus is convoluted; (4)
there is a peculiar shell-gland. la many of these characters the
species shows a resemblance to i\\t^ Bothriocephalidm.
Occurrence in Man. — The Cestodes whiLh in the adnlt state
infest man, with their CQrresponding larvae and temporary hosts,
are as follows : —
Teenia saginata. Cysticercus bovis. Ox.
T. solium. C. cellulosx. Pig, man.
r. naTia. (?) (?)
T.fiatojninetata. (?) (?)
T. viadagascariensis. (?) (?)
T. cxuntmerina. C. T cvcuvurinm. Trichodectes canis,
Bothriocephahis IcUus. Pike, burbot.i
B. cristatus, (?)
B. c&rdalits. Fish(?)
Other species, however, inhabit the human body in their laVvat
condition ; a list of them, v/ith the corresponding adult forms.-Xnd
permanent hosts, is subjoined : —
Cysticercus cellulose. T^nia solium. Man.
C acanthotrias, T. acanthotrias (incog.J (?)
C. tenuicollis. T. marginata. I^^g, wolf.
Echinococciis. T. cchinococcus. Deg.
Phylogcny. — There can be no doubt that the Cestodes and Tre-
matodes are intimately rt-lated and have sprung from a comn'ion
ancestor ; there are so many structural peculiarities i:i which they
agree (compare Trematodes), and they are connected by so n:any
intermediate forms, that their aflfinity can admit of no doubt.
According to Leuckart, the original ancestor of both was probably
allied to the Planarians, while Huxley (22, pp. 213i 676) points^
out that it is at ail events possible that they have no^ conncxioii
with free forms but have always been anenterous, land' in fa^t are
nothing but " giganti ; morulie, so to speak, which have neyer passed
through the gastrula stage."
Bi'jliographi/ — (1) Leuckart, Die Payasiten des Menicken. Lcipsic, lP63-7f: ; 2d
cd.. 1879-86; Eng transl, T/ie /'araiiYe; u/A'un.Svo. Edinburgh. IhSG, (2) HumiUin,
ZfAlschr.f. tciss. Zoo/,, jlii., 1885. (3) Zvoker, in Ziemsttn's Cyclop, of Pr-ac. Med.\
lit (4) Kijberld. Da CyUicn-quei ties Timiai dit t/Ivmme. Pans. ISCl. (5) Grnefe,
A'-chivf O/'/U/ialmolome, xU^ 1S74. (6) Niemiec, fire 2oo!. Suiae, it., It-SS. (T/
Lang. Millh. Zoot. Stat. J^tapel.ii., 1881. (8) Fraijiont. Archives de Biol., I,. JS80»
li..lP31. (9) VSnincT, Art. Zool. I7isi..\\\.. X'icnna, 18bl. (10) Steudener, AbhandL
nalurj. Oe^ethch., xiii., Htlle, 1S77. (11) Wugener, \ota Acta Cxi. Lrop Carol,
Acad-, xxiv., Suppl., 18*4. (12) lUchjn,-C-rrej!f<bl. d ttaturw. Vet- f. Sat/iten u,
Tfuiringen, lti82. {13)P. J. Van bcr.edt.-n. " Vei8 CesfoUlos." Me>n. A>ad.B-.iitl!es.
XXV,, 1851. and " Verslntestlnaux," Coinpirs Reiidus. Paris. Suppl.. ii.. lbi;i. (H)
E(i Van Heneden. virfrtipe dc-fifo/.. U, ISM. {\&)na\im, Bttlr. tw Entmrielvn^y.
ffesch. der C'/f-tieercen, Doipul. ltfS3 (16) ViHol. At. Sci. Nat. Monipcl'te- . Sept.
1&S2. I8S3, (17) Virchow, Verh-tndl. Wurzb. phys-med Gaelltch., vi., is.=.rt. (18)
Salcnsky, Zeitschr.f. iris:. Zoot.. \\\v , 1X74. (19) Pullu^. A'eufnni-rfisrV fi'i.'rage,
i., il., 17S1. (20) Diesin^; Sijstema //p/mi/*(-'*u.H, &vo. Viennti. 1650. (21) l.iaatow,
Comp, drr Jlelminthologie, 8vo, Haiiuv.-i, IS78. (22) Huxley. AmU. invvrtci/r.
Anim., 8vo. London, 1877. (23) Pia^er. Opui Pt-axfos Afedicx. 1601. (24) Andry.
'Aa Account of the Breeding of "SVormt in Hvman Bedics, 8vo, Londu!!, 1701
(tranBl.). (25) UremsT, Utinr Itbcnde Wurmer im Itbenden Mcnuhtn, 4to^
56
T A P — T A P
Vienna. !B19 (26) Burdacirs rn^sMotjtt. It., Leiptilc, 1838 (87) EBCiirJcht, tfova
Attn f*i Leop -Carot. Acad., Ilx.. Suppl.. 1841. (SB)SteeDStrup. On the Atttrna-
Itun of Gmtratio'it, Ray Society. 8va London. 1845. (29) KUchenmeister,
Animal Partimtt Sydenham Society, Bro, London. 1857; newf German ed.,
I.elpslc. 1H80-SI- (30) Linylow, Arehis /. jfafut gftffi , 187i tq. (31) Sommer,
Ztiticht / i^tiJ Zoot., ixtv . 1874. (32) Sommei and Landols, op. CU-. xxll.,
167J. (831 Braun. Zur Entwicktlunt;iges<h. del bmtm BandwurmfS. Wiirz-
burit. 1883 (84) rcrnei. Ar^h. dl Zoot Eipe>- . 11.. I8i3 (351 Rudolphl.
Enloioorum Hut Nat. 8vo, Amsteidara, 1803. (38) Llnstow, Areh. /. A'atur-
gtich., 18B6. p 113 For a concise account of the comparative anatomy and
tftpiooa bibliography, sec Jnckaoa. in Kolleston'a Forrm of Ammat L\!f. 2d ed.,
Oxford. 1887 (W. E. HO.)
TAPIOCA is a farinaceous food substance prepared
■from cassava starch, the product of the largo tuberous
r(X)t3 of the cassava or manioc plant, Manihot vtilissima
{Jatropha manihot), native of Brazil (see Cassava, vol. v.
p-. 182, and comp. Arrowroot, vol. ii. p. 631, fig. 6).
Cassava starch, being separated from the fibrous and nitro-
genous constituents of the roots, is in a moist condition
spread upon jron plates, and with constant stirring exposed
to such heab- as causes a partial rupture of the starch
granules, which agglomerate into irregular pellets, becoming
hard and translucent when cooled. In this partly torrefied
condition the starch forms the tapioca of commerce, a
light, pleasant, and digestible food, much used in puddings
and as a thickener for soups. The French prepare an
artificial tapioca from potato starch, mixed with various
vegetable substances, for use in soups, &c., which is
found in the market under such names as tapioca Crecy,
tapioca Julienne, Ac, according to the dried vegetables
with which the preparations are made.
TAPIR.' The general characters of the aiiinjals of the
perissodactyle or odd-toed section of the hoofed mammals
are described under Mammalia, vol. xv. p. 427. This
once numerous group is at present representeij by only
three rather isolated families, the Horses, Rhinoceroses,
and-Tapirss The last of these have retained much more
of the original characters of the primitive Ungulates of the
Eocene period than the others, and have indeed remained
practically almost unchanged since the Miocene period,
while almost all Other mammalian forms which existed
then have either become extinct or undergone extensive
modification. The tapirs constitute the single genus,
Tapirus, of the family Tapindce.
The dentition is i 5, c {, p J, m | ; total 42. Of the upper
incisors, the first and second are nearly equal, with slioit, broad
crowns, the third is large and conical, considerably larger tlian
the true canine, which is separated from it by an interval. Lower
incisors diininishing in size from the first to the third; the canine,
which is in contact with the third incisor, large and conical, working
against (and behind) the canine-like third upper incisor. In both
jaws there is a long interspace between the canines and the coni-
inencenientof the teeth **f the molar series, which are all in contact.
First upper premolar with a triangular crow^n, narrow in front
owing to tlie absence of the anterior inner cusp.- The other upper
premolars and molars all formed on the same jOan and of nearly
the same size, with four roots and quadrate crowns, rather wider
transversely thanfrom before backwards, each having four cusps,
connected by a pair of transverse ridges, anterior and posterior.
TIi^ first lower premolar compressed in front; the others composed
of a sim|Mo pair of ti-ansverse crests, with a small anterior and
posterior cingiilar ridge.
Skull elevated and compressed. Orbit ond temporal fossa widely
•continuous, there being no true post-oibital process from the frontal
boue. Anterior narial apertures very large, and extending high
on the face between the orbits; nasal bones short, elevateTl,
triangular, and pointed in front- Vertebra: i^C 7, D 18, L 5, S 6,
C abiJlit 12. Liinbs short and stout, fpre feet with four toes,
linving diitiiict hoofs: the first is absent, the third the longest,,
the secon.l and fourth nearly equal, the fifth the shortest "and
scarcely reaching tlie ground in the ordinary standing position.
Hind fei t With the typical perissodactyle arrangement of three
toes,— the middle one being the largest, the two others nearly etiual.
Nose and upiier lip elongated into a flexible, mobile snout or short
probo.sci9, near the end uf which tlie nostrils are situated. Eyes
rather small. Ears of moderate size, ovate, erfv't. Tail very short.
Skin thick ami but scantily covered with hair.
The existing apecies of tapir may be grouped into two
.sections, the distinctive characters of which are only
recognizable in the skeleton. (A) With a great anterior
prolongation of the ossification t>f the nasat Beptnm
(mesethmoid), extending in the adillt far beyond the naeal
bones, and supported and embraced at the base by ascend-
ing plates from the maxilliE (genua Elasmognnthus, Gill).
Two species, both from Central America, Tapirus bairdi
and T. dowi. The former is ^ound in Mexico, Honduras,
Nicaragua, Costa Rica, and Panama ; the latter in
American Tapir, from a living specimen in the London Zoological
Gardens.
Guatemala, Nicaragua, and Costa Rica. (B) With ossificaJ,
tion of the septum not extending farther forward than the
nasal bones {Tapirus proper). Three species, T. indicun,
the largest of the genus, from the Malay Peninsula (as far
north £is Tavoy and Mergui), Sumatra, and Borneo, dis-
tinguished by its peculiar coloration, the head, neck, fore
and hind limbs being glossy black, and the intermediate
part of the body white; T. americanus {T. terrestrie^
Linn.), the common tapir of the forests and lowlands of
Rrazil and Paraguay; and T. roulini, the Pinchaque tapir
of the high regions of the Andes. All the American
species are of a nearly uniform dark brown or blackish
colour when adult ; but it is a curious circumstance that
when young (and in this the Malay species conforms with
the others) they are conspicuously marked with spots and
longitudinal stripes of white or fawn colour on a darker
ground.
The habits of all the kinds of tapirs appear to be very
similar. They are solitary, nocturnal, shy, and inoffensive,
chiefly frequenting the depths of shady forests and the
peighbourhood of water, to which they frequently resort
for the purpose of bathing, and in wliicli they often take
refuge when pursued. They feed on various vegetable
substances, as shoots of trees and bushes, buds, and leaves.
They are hunted b"y the natives of the lands in which they
live for the sake of their hides and flesh.
The singular fact of the existence of so closely allied
animals as the Malayan and the American tapirs in such
distant regions of the earth and in no intervening places
is accounted for by wliat is known of the geological history
of the race, for, if we may judge from thesomewhat scanty
remains which have been preserved to our times, consisting
chiefly of teeth, the tapirs must once have had a very wide
distribution. There is no p^roof of their having lived in
the Eocene epoch, but in deposits of Miocene and Pliocene
date remains undistinguishable generically and perhaps
specifically from the modern tapirs (though named T.
priscus, T. arvemensis, kc.) have been found io France,
Germany, and in the red crag of Suffolk. Tapirs appear,
T A R — T A R
67
however, to have become extinct in Europe before the
Pleistocene period, as none of their bones or teeth have
been found in any of the caves or alluvial dej^'Osits in which
those of clt|ihants, rhinoceroses, and hip|io>intaniUbes occur
in abundance , but In other regions thtir distribution at
this age was far wider than at pri sent, as they arc kiiu«n
to have evtendcd eastward to China (T .«<«<#i.-i«. Owm)
ind westwards over the ■.'nater part o' the souilurn
United States of America, from South C.iroliiia to Oili
forma. Lund also distinguished two species or varieties
from the caves of Brazil. Thus we have no dilliculty in
tracing the common origin ir the .Miocene tapirs of Europe
of the now widely .separated American and Asiatic species
It IS, moreover, interesting to observe how very sliglil an
amount of variation has taken place in forms isolated
during such an enormous periuc' of tunc 'w h f
TAK is a product of the destructive distillation of
organic substances, ft is a highly complex material, vary-
ing in its composition according to the nature of the
body from tvhich it is distilled,— ditierent jiuducts, more-
over, being obtained according to the temperature at which
the process of distillation is carried on. As commercial
products tlieie are two principal clas.se.s of tar in use— (1)
wood tar, the product of the special dislill.itiotr ^f several
varieties of wood, and {.) coal tar, which is primarily a
iiyc product of the distilLUKm of coal for tlie manufacture
of illuminating gas Tliese tars are intimately related to
'the bitumen, asphalt, mineral pitch, and petroleum ob-
tained in verv many localities throughout the world.
W','k( Tor. — Wood tar, known also as Stockholm and
Ss Archangel tar, is principally prepared in the great [>ine
forests ol central and northern iiussia, Finland, and Sweden.
Tlie material rliiiHy employed is the resinous stools and
roots of the Scotch fir {J'iitns si/hystn'x) and the Siberian
larcH fLnnx silin'ca), with other less common fir tree
roots. A large amount ot tar is also prepared frpm the
roots of the sw-amp pine (P. austmtis) in North and
South Carolina, Georgia, and Alabama, in ihe United
States. In the distillation of wood a series of products,
including gas, tar, pyroligneous acid and wood spirit, and
charcoal ni.iy be obtained, and any of these may be the
primary object of the operation. When tar is the sub-
stance sought, tlie ancient and crude method of working is
yet largely adopteQ in ihe north of Europe. The wood to
be treated is closely piled up into a huge conical stack or
pile on an elevated platform, the sole of which is covered
with clay and tiles. The sole slopes inwards from every
side to the centre, where an opening communicate? with a
vaulted cavity under the elevated platform. The pile of
wood is closely covered over with layers of turf and earth
or sand to a depth of several inches, but leaving at first
near the bottom numerous apertures for the admission of
air to promote ignition. The pile is ignited from below,
and as the fire spreads through the heap the various
apertures are closed up and a slow smouldering combus-
tion goes on for some days till, by the sinking of the pile,
the top of the stack falls in, and a bright flame springs
up at that point. About ten days after ignition tar first
begins to llow, and it is at once collected into barrels.
According to the size of the pile, the distillation may
continue several weeks, the tar secured amounting to
about 17 5 per cent, of the wood operated on In this
method several valuable products — the gas, the Ci..dc j'yro-
ligneous acid, and much charcoal— are lost or wasted, and
a more economical process of treating the wood in closed
stills or retorts is now largely used in Russia, the gas evolved
serving as fuel under the retorts The heavier tar prO'
ducts of the distillation collect at the bottom of the retort,
whence they are carried off by a pipe to a receiver , the
jolatUe portion passes off at the upper part of the retort,
and is separately condensed, tbe lightest portion passing
through a worm condenser. From treatment in close
retorts resinous roots yield from 16 to 20 per cent, of tar,
with some oil of turpentine and pyroligneous acid.
Wood tar is a .semi-fluid substance, of a dark brown Ot
bl.ick coloui, with a strong pungent odour and a sbar[7
taste Owing to the presence of acetic (pyroligneous)
aiid, wliieli is a coU.iteraJ product, it has an acid reaction j
It is soluble in that acid, as well as in alcohol and the fi.xeq
and es.stntiul oil.s, Ac Tar consists essentially of a mixtur^
of homologous hydrocarbons, and by redistillation it can be
fractionated into a series of bodies having fi.xed boiling
points Some varieties of tar have a granular appear)
anec, from the presence of mimitc crystals of pyiocaiechinj
which dissolve and disappear on heating the substance!
Fyrocatechin dissolves freely in water, and to it the taV
water (lii/uor /ncis) of phannary probably owes its value>
Crude tar from retorts, when submitted to redistillation^
gives off wood spirit (inetliyl-alcohol). and then acetic
(pyroligneous) acid, and finally, on forcing the heat, [litch
oil is driven off The lesidmnu left in the still hardens
into a solid vitreous mass, which forms the black pitch of
commerce. Tar and pitch are most largely used as pro-,
tective coatings for woodwork and other materials much
exposed to water and the weather. Thus tar is of great
value in connexion with shipbuilding and shipping gencr
rally A considerable quantity is used in manufacturing
tarred ropes, and in the "smearing" of highland sheep to
afford a protection against the weathei Pitch also is the
basis of the Berlin black or Brunswick l^lack Used for coat-
ing cast-iron goods and for "japanning" preparations
Cu<d Tar. — The art of distilling coal for the production
of tar was discovered and patented by tbe earl of I)un-
donald in 1787, and till the general introduction of coal
gas some amount of coal was yearly distilled in Scotland
for the production of coal tar. The demand for the sub
stance was limited, it being principally used for coating
iron castings and smith work, for making an inferioi
lamp black, and as a«source of a .solvent oil. With the
extensive use of coal gas the necessity for this separate
distillation ceased, and soon tar was produced in the manu;
facture of gas in quantities that couM not be disposed of.
It was burned up for heating gas-retorts; it was mi.xed
with coal dust, .sawdust. Sec, for making patent fuel !
and it was distilled for producing a series of hydrocarbon
oils, heavy tar, and pitch ; but it was only aftet'the dis-
covery and introduction of "tar-colours" that the sub-
stance came for some time to be really valoable. Since
that time its price has fluctuated greatly ; and in the
United Kingdom alone there are now distilled annually
about 10,000,000 tons of coal for gas-making, producing
120,000,000 gallons of crude tar — a quantity greativ in
excess of the ordinary demand
If wood btr distilled elowly nt low temperatures, the gases cwisist
cliiefly of carbonic oxidt- and carbonic acid, mixed with only very
little of carburettt'd Iiydrogens, and consequently little luminous
OD combustioD , the watery j-art of the t;ir includes relatively mucb
of methyl. alcohol, acetone, and acetic acid ; the oily part of the
tar (tar proper) has a Cfrtain proximate composition chariicteristic
of this mode of distillation. Our present knowledge in regard tc
this last-named point is very incomplLle , of definite species tho
following have been discovered : —
il) Phenol, C^Hi OH (>>-nonvm caibolic acid).
2) Crcsol. (CjH, Cn.lOR
S) Phlorol. (C^H, OHlCjHj
(4) Pyrocntcchine, (CaH,)(OH);. ont- ol three iaomeridea
(5) Ouaiacol. C,;!!, \ q''„ . methyl-ester of No.'4.
((!) Homo-pyroeatcchlne, {CsBjtCH,)}(On)j.
(7) Creosol. I CRjlCnjl I g^jj , mclhylester ot No. 6?^
Genuine creosote consists of (1), (2), (5), and (7). In addition..
there aro numberless bodies which still await scientihc definition. ,
. if the distillation of wood is carried out at a very high tempera
ture, — if, 'or instance, the wood is placed in a relatively large r«tor^
~ XXIU. — 8
58
TAR
previously brought up to a bright red heat and "kept at such
temperature, or if the vapours produced at a relatively low tempera-
ture are passed through luteiiscly heated pipes before reachiug tlie
condenser (Pettenkoter's method for producing illuminating gas
from wood), — the gas produced contains a considerable admixture
of lurainiferous hydrocarbons, the proportions of methyl-alcohol,
acetone, and acetic acid gt-t less, and the tar proper assumes more
of the character of coal gas tar (sec below). Similar observations
we make in the case of coiil. About 1862 Wigan cannel coal used
to be distilled iudustriolly at low temperatures to produce "light
oils." Schorlcmnier examined these and found them to consist
chiefly of "paralVms" (see Paraffin) from CjHia upwards. A.
similar result is obtained with ordinary coal, although iu its" case
the " benzols " are more largely represented. If we distil any kind
of coal at high temperatures— ».?. , in the w;iy customary tor illumin-
ating-gas making— the distilhble part of the tar proper consista
chiefly of benzene, C^Hfi, and benzene-derivatives, i.e., benzols,
CgHe + nCH^; j)hcnols, CJi,p. and homologues, (CeH5.nCH2)OH ;
amido-bodies, CgH^NH.. (auiline), and homologues'; condensed
benzols, such as naphthalene, CiyHg = 2Ct;H^- CjH^; anthracene,
CuHio = SC.He - CjHg ; chryseno. C,sH,; = 4C6H8 - C^H^^ &c. The
paraffins then beeonte an altogether subordinate feature.
J A great and meritorious research of Berthclot's has thrown con-
siderable light on the chemical mechanism of dry distillation. As
found by him, evou the most complex of the substances named are
producible by the interaction upou one another of a few bodies of
very simple constitution, or even one or other of these by the mere
action of a high temperature. To give a few examples. Marsh-
gas, CH^, when pa-ssed through red-hot tubes, yields defines, C,Hj,
CgH^, CjH^, &c. , with elimination of hydrogen, H^. The same
CHj, if subjected to a spark-current (i.«., local application of intense
heat), yields acetylene and hydrogen, 2CH4 = CaH,-t-3Ha, and the
acetylene produced passes partly into benzene^ C6Hn = 3C2H2.
Ethylene, CjH^, when passed through a porcelain tube kept at a
uioderato red heat, yields benzene, C^.Hg, etyrolene = phenyl-
ethylene, C2H3.C6H5, naphthalene, CjoHe, and perhaps also its
hydride, CioHjo. Acetylene, f/fwz potential benzene, and ethylene
yield st>Tolcne and hydro;^cn, CeH^ + Con^ = Cf,H5.C2H3 4-H2; and
stjTolenc plus ethylene yields hydrogen and naphthalene, CioHe-
Benzol at a high temperature loses hydrogen, and, so to say,
doubles up into di-phenyl, Cj^Hjo; and this latter, when heated with
ethylene, yields anthracene, CnHio, and hydrogen, Cj^Hjo + C^Hj^
^14^10 + 2H3. Conversely, hydrogen may, so to say, turn out its
equivalent of a hydrocarbon ; ^thus, for instance, chrysene, Ci^Hi-j -t-
2H2. yields di-phenyl, CiM^q, + benzene, CJl^.
Pyrogenic reaction.'* generally are revtrsiblo; thus, any of the
following three equations is correct, whether we read it from the
left to the right or from the right to the left : — ^
(1) C,B, (ethane), at a red heat become* CsH^-t-n,.
-(S) C„H,o-l-2Ho=2CaBe-|-C2H5.
Hence no single pyrogenic re.'Ktion goes to the end ; if it doea not,
so to say, check its ov^ii progress, other secondary reactions set in
and do so, the general result being that ultimately, but in general
slowly, a state of dynamic equilibrium is attained in which a set
of synthetic leactions on the one hand and a set of analytic
Tdactions on the other compensate ijtae another.
Industrial Working of Coal Tar.^ — Coal tar, as it comes from
the gas-works, is used for a varioty of purposes, sx^ch as— -(1) for
fuel, the tar being made into a spray by means of a steam -injector
and the spray kindled ; (2) for the preservation of building
materials, porous stones, and bricts. &c. ; (3) for talking roofing-
felt (iu 1S68, five-sixths of the 9000 tons of tar produced at the
Berlin gas-works was tlius utilized ; the case, however, is" diflcrent
now) ; (4) for making a low quality of lampblack. At present,
ho^vevcr, raoat of the tar produced, in centres of industry at least,
19 worked up h^ distillation. The tar as it comes from the gas-
>vorks is allowed to rest in a "pond" until the tar-water (solution
chiefly of ammonia and certain ammonia salts) has gone to the top.
The tar proper is then pumped into a large wrought-iron still (of
upright-cylinder form preferably) and therein subjected to distilla-
tion over a naked fire. A necessary preliminary, however, is the
removal of the unavoidable remnant of water, which is best cfTccted
by cautiously heating the tar in the still so as to render it more
lliid and enable the water to risa to the top and then letting the
upper stratum run out by an overflow tap at the side. The dis-
tillation is then started. It involves the formation of two setd of
vftlatde products, yaraely— (1 ) combustible gases (includitig sulphur-
«r,ted hydrogen and bisulphide of carbon vapour), which must bo
ltd away to avoid uuLsance and danger of fire, and (2) a very
complex liquid or semi-liquid distillate. This latter is collected
iti successive fractions, generally in this manner: — (I) as ** first
runnings." what comes over at temperatures below 105* to 110* C. ;
(2) as " light oils," at temperatures between 110' and 210^ C; (3)
13 "^rbolic oil," at temperatures between 210* to 240* C. ; (4) as
' For wood i«r, Bce Wood 8praiT aod VnrBOAR.
"creosote" oil," at temperatures between 240* to 270* C; (5) u
anthracene oil. at tempeniture.s above 270°.
in the earlier part of the "first runnings" and light-oil period
the condenser r.uist be kept cold ; towards the end it must be kept
warm to prevent choking by solidified naphthalene. In practice,
the operator does not go entirely by the boiling point, put to a
great extent by the specific gravity of the distillate, which, in
general, increases as the boiling point rises. As soon as a drop of
the last runnings floats in water (exhibits the specific gravity 1),
the "light oil " is supposed to be over. That the fractionation ia
not always and everywhere effected in the same way needs hardly
be said. If the manufacture of carbolic acid is aimed at, it is beet
(according to Lunge) to select the fraction 170' to 230' C. for this
purpose. Naphthalene boils as high as 217°, yet a deal goes into
this carbolic-acid fraction. As soon as naphthalene begins to
crystallize out largely (on cooling down a sample of distillate), the
carbolic acid may be presumed to be over. What follows next is
put aside as creosote oil, until, after the disappearance of the
naphthalene, a now solid product, namely, authracciie, begins to
'show itself. With any tar that contains a remunerative proportion
of anthracene, the anthracene oil is the most valuable of the pro-
ducts, as the raw material for the making of artificial alizarins.
Supposing the anthracene to have been extracted as completely
as practicable, the residue in the still consists of "hard pitch, '
a viscid black fluid which on cooling freezes into a fragile solid.
In former times more commonly than now "soft pitch" used to
be produced by leaving more or less of the anthracene oil and even
creosote oil in the still. At the end of the anthracene stage of the
distillation it is as well, if not necessary, to help the very high
boiling vapour out of the still by means of superheated steam, and
to keep the worm at 100* C. to prevent choking. At a Germa.n
establishment a vacuum is used with great advantage.
We come now to explain briefly how the several fractions are
worked up.
The pitch (which wo assume to be " hard pitch ") must be run
otf hot through a tap at the bottom of the still and h-d into a low-
roofed and well closed-in "house," because it would take fire in
the open air. After it has cooled down sutficiently in the '* house,"
the pitch is run into pitch-holos in front of the house and allowed
to freeze there. The depth of pitch in a hole is about 12 inches.
The solid pitch is hacked out with pickaxes and sent into com-
merce. A superior apparatus for the recovery of the pitch, which
precludes all uanger of conflagration and many inconveniences of
the ordinary system, has been devised for the Paris gas-works by
RegnauU.- Lunge found, fiom-many distillations, that tar from
the midland couutjes yields about 55 per cent, of hard pitch.
Hard pitch is used chiefly for making the following. (1)
Asphalt. — The pitch is fused up — perhaps in the still whicn pro-
duced it — with the requisite proportion of creosote and anthracene
oil, previously freed from their valuable components. Such asphalt
is used for street-paving, i.e., filling up tne spaces between the
paving-stones, and, in admixture with sand and generally more or
less of natural asphaU; for the making of footpaths and floorings
generally. In Germany it serves for the making of pipes for con-'
veying acid liquids in works and chemical liboratories, kc. End-
less herap-paper is soaked in liquefied asphalt and wound spirally
around an iron core, preWously smeared over with soft soap, in
about 100 layers. The whole ia then exposed to strong pressure
Vhile still hot, and is separated from the core after being allowed
to cooL Such pipes stand almost any kind of acid, but they must
not be -used for hot liquids. (2) Varnishes. — The pitch is dissolved
in suitable tar oils,— creosote oil for a lower and light oil for a
higher quality. (3) Coke. — In former times more frequently than
now pitch was made into coke by transferring it to a special flat
still and distilling as long as any volatile products came off.
The coke which remains is a very pure and consequently valuable
fuel. (4) Lamp Slack (as a last resource, if no other mode of
utilization is practicable). — The p-itch is subjected to partial com-
bustion on hot iron plates and the smoke conveyed into chambers
to deposit its carbon. The yield is about 40 per cent.
Anthracene Oil. —The oil is allowed to stand cold for a week
or so until the anthracene has crystallized out as completely as
possible. The mother-liquor is then eliminated, the bulk by
means of a filter-press, the rest, at a higher than the ordinary
temperature, by hydraiilic pres:sure. The crude product includes
far more than half its weight of impurities — phenanthrcne, paraffin,
naphthalene, &c. To remove these as far as possible, the crude
anthracene is giOAind up and treated with petroleum spirit (boiling
at 70* to 100' C.) or coal tar naphtha {120 to 190°), in which real
anthiacene is relatively insoluble. The insoluble part is separated
by filtering arrangements and presses {so construded as to avoid
dange*- of Ore), and at last sublimed, more with the view of bring-
ing il into a customary convenient form than with the object of
effecting further purification. Such final anthracene may contain
50 to 65 per cent, of pure substance. The only reliable method for
2 It ia descrtbod In Liini^e's Treatise on the DutitlatioH 0/ Coal Tar, London,
1883, to witicb tbis aixtcle Ih largely indebrM
qaS™r?f H 0 hf h T '" -J^T.* * '?°^? ^''Sht into anthra-
2f rhm^.h' ■^" " -^ '""'"'« '*.'"''' * ?'*='*' a«ti(iMid solution
call«cung «nd «^i|hing the product Qne part of qumoue corre
sponds to 0-8558 of anthracene. "i 4iuaoue corre-
Of pitch. &C. or else redistilled to extract from it what there is of
r^t^^J"' "' ^■"l,<^f''ohc acid oU. which are worked up with the
respective principal quantities. ^
CarMic 0,7 -Assuming this oil to have been collected (as it should
•^30= Sifnti"' f' "''^'°S "' carbolic acid) between 70' Jnd
^Li .f"^'^ of extraction is. briefly, as follows. The oiJ is
™..ed with a suitable proportion of caustic-soda ley (ascertained
. uS^Tv^irrL"^" '"^'^ ^\ '''}' '"y- Charles^L^ve r^com
..'. nds ley of 1 34 sp. gr.. diluted with water to five times its
l^d hL. Af^r ^ttlin.. the aqueous layer is withTw Tto^
Cn^ri^n^Lr^'r" "■' '°'^^ supersaturated by sulphuric ac°d
Crude carboUc acid nses to the top as an oil, and is withdrawn t^
bo sold as such or purified. See Carbolic Acid '"''"''*^" »"
Aapkihakn, abounds in the oil left after extraction of the
S c,^:« „rFrrl' "' ■" '"^""^ volatile factions of
^J^ "i'" "'^'' " separates out (not completely)
on standing, in crystals^ These are collected, best in a filter- preL
lht^,l '"^'"''^ to hydraulic pressure to force out the rcsHl
the mother-liquor The cmde naphthalene thus obtained ontains
an impunty which causes >t to become red on standing in 'the a^r
To remove it, the crude product ,s mixed with 5 to oVcr cent of
VuZJ o, Tn' 'ni^" ^'- " ' ■"""^"'^ '^^" (additVn Z 1 tt e
^11 A ^ "^nsanese is an improvement, LnngeJ- it is then
washed first w,th water, then with dUute alkali, and lastly a^an
ri.r -k'" "^"."""^tely distilled or sublimk In t!^ fct "
^u!^ •' .ttres^'"s^''^.td hif -t ^?^r^^^^ ^
WthT-Serk'> i*°'l„t.''? "eautiful scarlet* and crimsons made
c%%'unL"'d:"v'ed??om^trap^t^hT.^"^-fS\i^iif'^^o:r/--
or more nuxtureaof " benzols " are obtained ' "'"' °°'
^e cann^ot po^ibirconstert T/ln '°T""'- ^"' "•'=^«
the way in which the Mver.r\ "^%""" rather g,ve an idea of
40.) are heing isolated u> a t . "r"^' '?'""' (i"^'^zene, toluene,
the demand^^oHhe ter^oloor L^°^'PP"'^■^"" P""«5' '° ""^<^t
named component by meals of ^7'^' ^■n'*'' '" "''" '"^ °"«
mediate condenser at a ,^if,M . "■"■ """^ ''^"P "'" '"t"-
the less volatne part „f?v,'"'"^'" temperature, so that all
to thestill An exceirent ,n?PT '^'^1°.'"^^""^ ^"d sent back
and worked successfullv bvTr^" "^ u" ^'"'^ ^^ constructed
three parts Z J!\)Lhu% TI\ "'' ''Pl'^ratus consists of
= ^'Sii'^i5^~r'^=ii;^i"i/'^:
siiX^^^o^nrrHsEr^^^^— -^^^^^
xaponr m passing from a compartment to the next higher
T A R— T A B
59
^aporlan ovl'rfl^""?'' "l' "''"'j' ""■''^"^=<J ">"« from preceding
ImSltlonTf 1h„ iP'^A'^PP'^'^ '"='''"' ^V coudensate, Ldcrinf
W m „ . '"''"'* '" °"y compartment beyond a certaiS
Sor stp^e :? a-uTr^'tnfwr ;5;:^Toin'th^^ .^ru!r-5
rap;rVert7tLTr,-, -d°'.srnird^£ - "-™--^
1 o prepare benzene the still-head is kept at 60° to 70° C At first
1^0^71° lowboiling bodies and benzene goes over whi^h is
reiected, but soon pure benzol follows and continues un'tnarnn!?
hUtrG^-s'/c^ distiUedover. The^benXb'i^L'ed bo
UO' and .n.m^thvl-b:iVenTc fs rioit^' "o nt^l?^'°"tV 1^0^
ZhllnZT.Z'Tr'' • ""' '''^ P—b-ome trouble om;
c5^^C:?r^^-,-Str-t^L|ofi?;
Pure benzene, toluene, and xylene are used largely for the mam.
S 'iZZ%:\: ES '"'""' '""'""oiat e|-c.
(3) -Toluol- ■ ■ ■• 83
(4) Cnibureuing naphtlia " ■' !??
(5) Solvent iiaphtlia ... " " !,X
(6) Burning napJiiho [_ "" ' " {'^
powe°r ^NoTr^/ '="''ch>ngcoal.gas and adding to its lummiferoua
fZ7,\ fh varmshes, ,^o. 6 for feeding primitive laiuDS
used in the open a,,-, where smoke is no objection. "^
,r„-k / ""^/."'"""^Sc table for the tar from the Berlin eas.
works (given in C7«,„»c/«, /«rf„^/„« for 1879) gives an Sea of th.
quantitative composition of this most complex material -
Benzol (includinc tolnol. tcj n sfi
Higher benzols " ""
Crysuljized carbolic neld... „.?„
Ciescfl for disinfecting purposes: ■ 030
— C'60
S400
0-20
U'OO
15-20
TARAI, a British district in the Kumdun dfyrsron^of
the lieutenant-governorship of the North-West Provinces
and Oudh India, lying between 28° 5r and 29° 30' N
lat. and 78 46' and 79° 47' E. long, ft contains an area
Creosote 0(1
Anthi-acene (pure)
Pitch
Water and loss
01 <i.J8 square miles, and is bounded on the N by the
Khumaun Bhabar, on the E by Nepil and Pilibhit sub-
rZ'h" . \T'"^ t'''/"'' °° '^' S. by the districts of
Bareiliy and MoradibAd and the native state of R.^mpur
and on the W^ by Bijnaur. The headquarter, of the dis!
trict are at Nam, Tal. Tarai (■■ moist land ") consists of
a long narrow strip of country running for about 90 miles
east and west along the foot of the Himalayas, with an
average breadth of about I 2 miles. At its northern edge.
where the waterless forest tract of the Bh4bar ends a
series of springs burst from the surface, and these 'in-
creas.ng and uniting in their progress, form the numerous
streams that intersect the Taiai. The Deoha is the great
nver of the Tarai proper, and is navigable at Pilibhit
Elephants, tigers bears, leopards, hy.Bnas, and other wild
animals are found ,n the district. The climate is normaUy
bad but improvement is gradually following the spread of
sanitary measures. ^
,,,^'"'*"S tn the census of 1881 the ,>onulation was 206 993
iud''.'o,.rin:d^:; ^'^ '-'t:' ."r''^ "t*^"" '"'•«''
tendency of the populatton is to agricultural and not to urUn lifi
60
T A B — T A R
rho total ai-oa under crop in 1834-85 was 254,288 acres, of which
rico occupied 92.136 acres, wheat 54,627, and other food grains
80,304 acres. There are no maniffactures worthy of note, and
tho cliief trade is the export of grain. The gross revenue io
1884-85 amounted to £42,048, the land yielding £35.507. The
Farai came umier British rule at the time (1802) when Rohilkhand
ivas ceded to the East India Company. The Government is said to
bavo looked with indilfercnce on this uninviting tract, but since
1831, when the revenue settlements were revised, this reproach
aa.*i been less deserved. ,, With an improved system of embankments
uid irrigation in 1851, the formation of the Tuiai into a separate
listrict in 1801, and its complete Kubjection to Kumaun in 1870,
;he moral and material history of this tract lias ;rcatlY irauroved.
^TARANTO. See Tarentdm. \
iTAUANTULA. „ The taTa.nln\a. {L^ua' tarantula)' he-
longs to the mining section of the faniily Lt/cosidx or
Wolf Spiders." Its cephalothorax is dorsally of a brownish
jrey colour, whilst the abdomen is more distinctly brown,
ind marked with either two or three pairs of triangular
black spots above the apeif of the triangles pointing back-
tvards. , One of the most striking specific characteristics of
this spider is a large circular black spot which covers the
interior ventral half of the abdomen, the remainder of this
surface presenting an ochreous hue.' The largest species
does not exceed -J inch in length. . The eight eyes are
irranged in three transverse rows, the anterior containing
four small eyes, while behind this two pairs of larger eyes
ire arranged in two rows, the eyes of the hindermost row
having between them a wider interval than the .first pair. .
^.The tarantula is widely distributed in southern Europe,
round the shores of the Mediterranean. ' • It occurs through-
out Spain and is found in southern Franco, and extends
into Asia. ~ In Italy it is said to be especially common in
/Apulia, round the town of Ta ran to, from which place the
aame of this spider is usually derived. A species has also
been described from northern Africa. . It is usually to be
found in dry pieces of waste land exposed to the sun.: It
lives in an underground passage, which it digs for itself
ind lines with its web. These passages are' round in
lection, .and sometimes an' inch in_ diameter, and may
2xtend to a depth of a foot or'more below the surface.
The^ tube_first .descends, vertically foF'some inches, then
benda fttan obtus^angle, becoming__vertical again near its
j^osed"en3r^'yie_.tLViuititl£Takes_up its position -at the_
ilrst Eend,Avhore it can c6mn^nd,thel;iitrance,'on_lhe''look-
5ut foFprey.^In some cases_tlie tube is prolonged fabove
jhe surface of the earth by the formation of a small funnel,
built up of. fragments' of wood and earth, and lined like
ihe walls of the tunnel by the web. - The females show
considerable maternal care for their offspring, and some-
times sit upon their egg sacs;' and the species', ' although
jomewhat fierce and combative ' amongst themselves, are
capable of being tamed.',
Tahantis.m. The tarantula has~givcn its-name to one of those
dancing manias which. ovcrspre.-id Euro.pe during tho Middle Ages.
The bite of tlio spider tlirew the sulTerer into a depressed state of
melanclioly, accompanied by various nervous disorders. The con-
dition was accompanied by an increased sensibility to, the power
?f music. The excitement of tjie nervous system amounted in
some cjses almost to insanity. The symptoms of the patient seem
to have varied a good deal with the character of tlie individual
Jttaeked: tlio nio.st common were a lividity of tlio body, icy cold-
ocss, great depression, n.-iusea, sexual excitement, and loss of sight
ind hearing. The only me.ans of arousing the suHcrer from the
letliargy into which he sank was music. Under the influence of
this he awoke as it were, and commenced moving ihythmic.ally,
then began to dance, and continued increasing the r.ipidity of the
motion until he fell exliausted to the ground. 13y this 'means it
ivas considered that the poison of the tarantula was distributed
through the system .ind worked out tl-.rougli tlie skin. If the
music ceased whilst the patient was dancing, he at once sank bacli
into the state of lethargy from wliich he liad been aroused, but
when tlioroughly exhausted he generally awoke lelieved and cured
at least for a time. This dancing mania became contagious: one
person cnuglit it from another qnite independently of the bite
of the tarantula, and in this way whole districts became alTccted.
One of the most Dtculiar characteristics was the attraction that
bright pieces' of metal.^ or brilliant pieces of colour, exercised
J5ver the imagination of the dancers. This was particularly marked
in the later history of the disease. Each sufferer apparently admired
one p.irticular hue, the -sight of which seemed to cause him tie
greatest rapture. Red was a very general favourite, though this
colour threw St Vitus's dancers into a frenzy of rage; green,
yellow, and other colours also had numerous admirers. Other
colours, on -the contrary, they detested, and attempted to destroy
articles of the obnoxious shade.
In marked contrast to the" cfTect'produced by hydrophobia,'
tarantism appeared to cvoko in its victims an intense longing for
the sea, into which at times they would precipitate themselves;
at all times they seemed to prefer the vicinity of water, sometimes
'* carrying globes of this fluid whilst dancing.
In its origin tarantism ai>pears to have bcen'contcmporaneous
with the St Vitus's d.ince of Germany, It first appeared towards
the end of the 14th ccntnry in Apulia ; thence it spread gradually
lliroughout Italy, and reached its heiglit during the 17tli century,
by which time the dancing manias of the North had already died
out. It affected not only inliabitunts of the country but foicigir.i-s-
visiting it; age appears to have had no saving influence: children
and old people alike conmicnced dancing at the sound of the
taiantulla, but as a rule women were more susceptible than menj
From tlic 17tli century onwards it has gradually declined, and is
.now practically unknown, tlie only relic of it being the graceful
dance of soutiiern Italy called the tarantella. The bite of tho
taraiitula'is painful but not dangerous, and the real cause of. th«'
phenomena described above niu.st be sought in the temporary
epidemic prevalence of an hysterical condition.
^Thc Lucofa tarantula is figured in Ann. Sc. Nat., 2d scr., ii[. Zoologie, 1835.
TAR ARE, on tho Turdine.^a manufacturing town oi
France, and the second most populous in the department
of Khunc, is 2.5. miles north-west of Lyons. Within a
circle drawn. 25 or 30 miles from the town more than
C0,000 workmen are Employed, and the value of the
textile fabrics produced exceeds £G00,000 per annum.
Tarlatans are made in Tarare on more than 3000 Jacqnard
looms. ■; The manufacture of Swiss cotton yarns and crochet
embroideries was introduced at the end of last century ;
in the beginning of the 19th figured stuffs, openworks,
and zephyrs were first produced. The manufacture ol
silk plush for hats and machine-made velvets, which was
set up a few years ago, now employs 2900 workmen and
000 girls, the latter being engaged in silk throwing and
winding.'^ There are, besides, four or five dyeing and
printing establishments, and silk .looms working for the
Lyons trade!' 'An ini[)Ortant' commerce is carried on io
corn, cattle, linen, hemp, thread, and leather. "^ In .1686
the population was 11,848 (commune 12,980).
Till 1756, when Simonnct introduced the manufacture of muslins
from S\\itl!eiland, Tarare lay unknown among the mountains. Od'
„the old c.istle to which the town owes its grigin may be seen tht'
arms of tlie family of Albon.-
'TAT{ASCON,irtown"of France, in. tbe department ol
Bouclies-du-Rhune, is. situated on the left bank of "li.e
Rhone, opposite Beaucaire, with which it is connected by
a suspension and a railway bridge. It is on the Lyonf
and Marseilles Railway, 156 miles south of the formei
town. The church of St Martha, built in 1187-97 on
the ruins of a Roman temple, rebuilt in 1379-1449, ha^
a Gothic spire, and many interesting pictures in the
interior, which is of fairly pure Pointed architecture. Of
the original building there remain a porch, and a sid{
portal with capitols like those of St Trophimus at Aries?
The former leads to the crypt, where are the tombs ol
St'Maitha and Louis IL; king of Provence. The castle;'
jiicturcsciucly situated on a rock, was begun by Count
Louis II. in the 14th century and finished by King Rent
<4 Anjou in the 15th. It contains a turret stair and a
chapel entrance, which 'are charming examples of 15th;
century architecture, and fine wooden ceilings. It is iio\V
used as a pri.son. The civil court of. the arrondissemeut of
Aries is situated at Tarascon, which also possesses a com'
mercial court, a hotel de ville, and fine cavalry barracks,
Hats, and the so-called Aries sausages, are made ler^
The population in 1886 was 6647 (commune 9314). ~
T A R — T A R
61
The town wmk« op for the fair of B«ttDcaire aoil the fSte of Ls
iTsrajque, the latter in celebration of 3t Martha's deUverance of
the town from a legendary monster of that name. KjDg Ren^
presided in 1469, and grand exhibitioas of costume and strange
cei'aznoniea take pVue during the two daja of the f estivaL Tarascon
V5:j or:ginally a settlement of the Uaasaljots, built on an island of
t^^ Rhone. The meJisv&l castle, where Pope Urban II. lived in
\\ 7G, was built on the ruins of a Roman castrum. The inhabitanta
of T:rucon preserved the municipal tnstitutiona granted them by
the li^mans, and of the absolute pow«r claimed by the counts of
Proisnce they only recognized the nglitB of eovereignty Tarascon
played a bloody part in the White Terror of 1816
TABAXACUM is the name usually applied in medical
practice to the common dandelion ( Taraxacum officinale,
Wiggers). The Dajtdklion (q.v.) is a plant of the northern
bemisphere, extending to the Arctic regions, and is culti-
vated in India. The preparations chiefly employed are the
fluid extract, the preserved juice of the root, or succus, and
the solid extract The dried and roasted root, mixed with
ground coffee, is often sold under the name of dandelion
eo^ee for use as a beverage. The root is most bitter from
March to July, but the milky juice it contains is less
abundant ic the summer thdli in the autumn. For this
reason, the extract and succus are usually prepared daring
the months of September and October. After a frost a
change takes place in the root, which loses its bitterness to
« large extent. In the dried state the root will not keep
%eU, being quickly attacked by insects. Externally it is
brown and wrinkled, internally white, with a yellow centre
and concentric paler rings. It is 2 inches to a foot long,
and about ^ to ^ ioeh in diameter. The juice when first
exuded is bitter and neatral, but on exposure to the air
saon acquires an acid reaction and a brown tint, coagulat-
ing aud depositing a complex substance, to which the
oame of " leontcdonium " has been given. From this
deposit a bitter principle, "taraxacin," and an acrid
crjrstalline substance, " taraxaceriu," soluble in alcobol,
have been obtained, but to which of these the medicinal
properties are due is not known. In autumn the root con-
tains about 24 per cent, of inulin, but in summer barely
2 per cent. When the juice has fermented, mannite is
found in it Taraxacum is chiefly employed as a stimulant
tonic in hepatic disorders. In some cases it acts as a
cholagogue and mild aperient, and in others as a diuretic.
, The roots of other Composite plants are sometimes gathered
ty careless collectors for dandelion, especially that of Leontodon
jMpidus (L). The root of this plant is tough when fresh, and
rarely exudes any milky juice. The flowers, moreover havo
feathery pappus, while in the dandelion it is simple.
TARBES, a town of France, chef lieu of the depart-
ment of Hautes-Pyrin^es, is situated in one of the most
beautiful plains of France, on the left bank of the Adour,
streams from which are conducted through all parts of the
town. The lines of railway from Paris to Pierrefitte and
from Toulouse to Bayonne cross here. Among the many
.gardens and open spaces for which Tarbes is distinguished
is the Massey garden (35 acres), given to his native town
by a Versailles official of that name, in which his statue
faces the town museum, founded by the collector Achille
Jubinal. The varied collections iuclude Roman remains,
and specimens of the fauna and flora of the Pyrenees.
The architecture of the cathedral is heavy and unpleasing,
but the cupola of the transept (14th century), the modern
glass in the 12th-century apse, and a rose window of the
13th' century, in the north transept, are worthy of notice.
T^e' Carmelite church has an interesting steeple, and there
arfe the ruins of a chapel and cloister, and Roman remains
in the garden of the former episcopal palace, now occupied
by the prefecture. The municipal buildings, with the
pablic library (22,000 volumes), the lyceum, the court of
justice, and the barracks (which are large and fine) may
also be mentioned among the public buildings. The
jarrison and artillery establishments, the latter associated
with an arsenal and large workshops, have conaiderable im-
portance. Other industrial establishments are a ftJundry
machine manufactory, felt and woollen factories, and wool
and flax spinmng mills. Paper, lace, knitted goods, car-
nages, and leather are also made here, and marble from
the Pyrenees is prepared for the market. There are
important fairs and markets, particularly for horses, as
Tarbes is a well-known centre for a special breed of light
horses, its stud being the most important in the south of
France. The population of the town was 24,882 in 1886.
Tarbes, a mere vicus in the tune of Gregory of Tours, rose into
importance after the destruction of the ancient Aquitanian town ol
Turba. The seat of the bishopric was transferred to it about the
9th century, when a castle was also built. Raymond I., towards
the middle of the 10th century, rebuilt the town, fortified it, and
made it the capital of the county of Bigorre. The English held
the town from 1360 to 1408. In 1569 Tarbes was burpt by Mont-
gomery, and the inhabitants were driven out. This happened a
second time, bat in August 1570 the peate of St Germain allowed
the inhabitants to return to the grass-grown streets. Subsequently
Tarbes was four times taken and r«-takcn, and a number of Uio
inhabitants of Bigorre were forced to take refuge in Spain, but in
1594 the members of the League were finally expelled. The Eng
lish, under Wellington, rained a victory over the French near
Tarbes in 1814. Thdophile Gautier was bom here in 1811.
TARENTUM, or Taea8, now Taranto, a famous Greek
city of southern Italy, situated on the north coast of the
bay of the same name, at the entrance of the only seeure
port on the gulf. This port, cow called the Mare Piccolo,
is a bay 16 miles in circuit, landlocked by a low rooky
peninsula. The entrance is so narrow that it is crossed by
a bridge of seven arches ; it was already bridged in Strabo'e
time. The modern tovrn, in the province of Lecee, which
is the see of an archbishop and had in 1881 a population
of 26,611, stands on the peninsula, which is now rather an
island, the isthmus ooonecting it with the mainland having
been cut through for defence by Ferdinand I. The ancient
citadel occupied the same site, but the city in its beat days
was much larger, traces of the walls being visible about 2
miles from the gates of the modern town. The remains
of antiquity are inconsiderable.
Tarentum was a Spartan colony founded about tlie close of the
8th century B.C. (Jerome gives the date 708) to relieve the parent
state of a part of its population which did not possess, but ckimed
to enjoy, full civic rights. Legend represents-thcse Parthmim (so
they are called) aa Spartans with a stain on their birth, but the
accounts are neither clear nor consistent, and the. facts that under-
lie them have not been cleared up. The Greeks were not tlie fii-st
settlers on the peninsula : recent excavations have brought to light
signs of a pre-Hellenic trading-place, and the name of Taras may bt
older than the colony. To the Greeks Taras was a mythical hero,
eon of Neptune, and he is sometimes confounded with the oecist of
tlic colony, Phalanthus. Situated in a fertile district, especially
famous for olives and sheep, with an admirable harbour, great
fisheries, and prosperous manufactures of wool, purple, and pottery,
Tarentum grew in power and wealth and extended its doniair.
inland. Even a great defeat by the natives in 473 B.C., when more
Greeks fell than in any battle known to Herodotus, did not break
its prosperity, though it led to a change of government from aris
tucracy to democracy. A feud with the Tburians for the district
of the Siris was s&ttted in 432 by the joint foun Jation,of Heraclea.
which, however, was regarded as a Tarentine colony. In the
4th century Tarentum was the first city of Great Greece, and it-
wealth and artistic culture at this time are amply attested by it
rich and splendid coins; the gold pieces in particular (mainly late:
than 360) are perhaps the most beautiful ever struck by Greekc
(see NnMiSMATics, vol. xvii. p. 637). In the second half of the
century Tarentum was in constant war with the Lucanians, and
did not hold its ground without the aid of Spartan and Epirote
condottieri. Then followed war with Rome (281), the expeditiot
of Pyrrhus, and at length, in 272, the surrender of the city by it
Epirote garrison (see the details in vol. xx. p. 743 sq.). Tarentnn
retained nominal liberty as an ally of Rome. In the Second Puni-
War it suffered severely, when it was taken by Hannibal (212), al
but the citadel, and retaken and plundered by Fabius (209). After
this it fell into great decay, but revived again after receiving t
colony in 123 B.C. It remained a considerable seaport, and it.-
purple, second only to that of Tyre, was still valued, but in Strabo'E
time it had shrunk nearly to the limits of the present town. After
the fall of the Western empire it was held from time to time by
62
T A R — T A R
Goths, Lombards, and Saracens, but was not finally wrested from
Byzantium till Robert Guiscard took it in 1063.
For speclil literature about Tarenium, see Busolt^ QriecJi. Oa(h.,\. 206 sq.
TARES, or Vetches. See Agriculture, vol. i. p. 376.
TARGQM (D'Sil?) in its concrete sense signifies the
paraphrastic translation of the Hebrew Scriptures, or parts
thereof, into the Aramaic tongue. It has, however, three
other meanings: — (1) a translation from any language into
another;' (2) an interpretation in any language;' and (3)
the /Vramaic portions of certain books of the Bible (notably
Daniel and Ezra).'
The word is not itself found in the Bible , but the
participle methurgam (D^inP) occurs in Ezr. iv 7 The
noun Targum, a form similar to Talmud {q.v.), occurs tor
the first time in the Misknah, both canonical ♦ and non-
canonical,^— the latter being apparently the older source.
Origin. — Although none of the Targums uow in our
hands are as old* as the Septuagint (q.v.), the public use
of Targums on Sabbaths, festivals, 4:c., is very ancient,
and indeed their language was for several hundreds of
years the sole one understood by the majority of the Jews
in Palestine and Babylonia. How the Hebrew people of
Judaea came so entirely to unlearn their own Hebrew
tongue as to stand in need of an Aramaic translation of
their Scriptures need not be dwelt on here (see vol. si.
p. 597 and vol. xxi. p. 648). But an important contrast
between the Aramaic and Greek versions deserves particular
notice. The use of the Septuagint by the Greek-speaking
Jews of 'Alexandria, Asia Minor, and elsewhere caused
those who adopted it to forget entirely their own Hebrew
tongue The Aramaic version (Targum), however, spring-
ing from a religious necessity, was the cause of revival of
the knowledge of Hebrew, which had been nigh forgotten.
It is tberefore easy tr, understand why the Jews in general
have shown comparatively little attachment to the Septua-
gint, whilst they ever ardently revered the Aramaic version,
even after the institution of publicly reciting it had ceased."
To this day pious Jews privately prepare themselves every
Friday for the lessons of the coming Sabbath by reading
the weekly portion twice in the sacred tsst and once in
the Targum (DUin inxi XlpD D'Jty).
F(rrmer Use of the Targum in Public. — The following
rules had to be observed in the reading o£ the Scriptures
at the synagogal service : —
!. As regards the Law (Pentateuch). (1) The private person
called to the Law (yhich chiefly contains balakhic ' matter) read
one verse of it, which the official methurgeman or tnrgeman (trans-
lator) immediately paraphrased ; (2) whilst the reader of the Law
was not allowed to take his eye off the written scroll, the methurge-
man was forbidden, not merely to read out of a written Targum,
but even to look into the sacred text ;' (3) each of these had to
wait till the other had quite finished the reading and translation
respectively; (4) one was not allowed to raise his voice in a louder
key than the other; (5) a certain number of passages, although
allowed to be read, were not allowed to be translated; these were —
« ■ IU.-I
> Hence 'TIDE'S DIJIH (German translation), &c.
' When the vord is nsed in either of these two senses the" language
Into which the translation is made, or in which an inteijirctation is
given, must be speci6ed, or otherwise indicated,, f. p., OV DUin
(Greek translation), CrynCH DlJ-in (Septuegint), D7'pj) DJID (Aquila
translated), except when it is Aramaic, in -which case the language
may be named (as in Ezra Iv. 7) or not (Tosephto, Shaihalh, xiii.
[ir'.]2).
» Compare Mishnoh, Vadayim, iv. 5. • See last aote.
• Sipkere (see vol ivi. p. 507) on D'eutEiononiy (Pericope
BKophetim), Pisko 161.
« "Let not the Aramaic be lightly esteeintd'by thee," says- the
Jerusalem Talmud, " seeing that the Holy One (blessed be'-Jle !) has
given honour to it in the Pentateuch (Gen. xxri, il), in the Prophets
jJer. ji. 11). and in the Hagiograph.. (Dan, iL 4)," (Sb<aA,,vii. 2).,
Instead of " Arimmi" (Aramaic) the Miurash Jtaibah on Gfiiusis
teads " Parsi " (Persian) ; the reading here is "Sursi " (SyriaiJ-
' See MiSHKAH, vol. ivi. p. 503.
' This was done to prevent its hcing thougnt that fhff T-iT. uiTK
(the exponent of tho oral Law) was to be found ia_i»J51iji6 la Iho
renlateuch (the exponeot of the written Law^
(a) such as might reflect unfavourably on a father of a tribe, or oQ
anaminent tcacher(T. B., MegilL, ibb, Tom/jA., catchword nOTO) ;
(i) such as might encourage the ignorant to think that there was
sonie truth in idolatry ; (c) such as might otfend decency ( J/'sAnaA,
Megillah, iv. 10; Tosephto. ibid, 35, 37, T. Yer, ibid., iv.
10; and T. B. , ibid., leaf 256); (,rf) such as were lised by the Lord
Himself to be lead in Hebrew only (as the sacerdotal benediction,
Num. vi. '24-26);® (6) the translator wa^ neither allowed to give
a literal translation nor to add anything that had no foundation
in the Divine word ; he had to give the spirit of the letter.'*
II. As regards the Prophets. (1) The person called to read the
Prophets (which chiefly contain agadic matter") oiiglit read three
verses, of which the translator, wlio might be the reader himself,'*
sought to render the meaning to the best of his ability , \2) the
translator was allowed botti to read out of a Targum volume and
to look also into the book containing the prophetic text , ,3) if
reader and translator were two different persons they observed the
third rule giv^ above tor the case o^ reading the Law ; (4) here
also certain passages wore not allowed to be translatetl : — (n) such
as reflected on great men of the Israelite nation; (i) such as offend
decency , (5) any one sufficiently intelligent might read, and of
course paraphrase, the portion from the Prophets.
in. As regards the Hagiographa. The widest range of liberty
must have been granted both to reciters and translators, is very
scanty mention of any particular provision concerning it is to be
found in the Talmuds. The Psalms and the book of Esther are
classed together in so far as they may be read and paraphrased even
by ten persons (T. B. , ilcg., 216). For Job and Lamentations,
see below.
Duration of this Practice. — The practice of publicly
reciting the Targum continued somewhat later than the
last of the geonim. Within the list 400 years of that
period, however, the power of this ancient institulun
began to fluctuate, gradually declined, and finally almost
— but not entirely '^ — died out. The causes of this were
twofold. One was, that after the Mohammedan-conquests
Arabic supplanted Aramaic as the vernacular, and the
Targums thus became unintelligible to the mass (see
Seder Rab 'Amram, i., Warsaw, 1863, leaf 29a), even as
was already the case in the Western world. A second
and more important cause, however, was the .spread of
Karafsm, whose criticism of the Rabbinic contents of the
targums provoked the Rabbanites to pay more attention
to the etymology and grammar of the Hebrew text of the
' The Baliylonian TalDui.l \.\Iigdlah, 256) says that tho pricslly
benediction was not to be rented in Aramaic on account of the pLr.ise
"the Lord shall lift up llis countenance upon thee," which wouf.l
appear as if the Lord liad been a respecter of persons, 'n Talmudic
times they bad apparently, in Babylonia, .ost the real reason of the
Mishnic prohibition, wlurli 's that this bcneiUctiou is doubly, yea,
trebly Dmue, bemg I'ramt.t lu its every word by God Himself, and
can thus only be recited in: those very words ^3, thus , Num. vi.
23). See Mishnah. Sniab. vii 2 . T Verushalrai, tbid., and MeyilLih^
iv. 11, and, finally, IScmrMnr Habbah, cap. XL m medio.-
"> See Tosephto, Mrrjitlah, iv. iii/w.
^ See MiDiiiSH, vol. xu. \<. 2S5.
" Thus Jesus (Luke iv. Iti 27) no doubt read the Uaphtarah (pr*.
phetic portion) himself, and jiaraphiased it himself From this cnston»
of reading and paraphrasing by one and the same person the sermon
(^B'^^) sprang The p.a.'is.age in questiou (Isa. hi. 1, ic.) was read
on the Sabbath before the New Year (day of memorial).
'' Long after the institution of publicly reciting the Targum ou the
Law had generally declined, it was yet retained in Germany and Italy
on certain days of the three high festivals, viz., (a) the seventh .lay of
Passover, (6) the fir.-t day of Pentecost, ami (r) tlie last J.iy ati.iched
to the festival of Tabernacles (i.i!., mm nUnV). The passages so
recited were— (a) parts of the lesson for the il.iy— the song of Moses
and the children, of Isr.-iel, with the iiitvf.luction ; \b) the Dec.ilogin
irt f"xodu5; (c) the labt portion of Deuteronomy. In the hrslcase tba
-pn.aphiase was from the thiee Targums mixed, m the second from
the Taroum Yonalhan,with deviatious, iii the last from the Targum
Oiikelos" (Thesepieces-arc inteisi.ei.M-il «ith siiMiUy bits of poetiy.
seeCamlr. MS. Add. 374,- leaves llifl.i-iri'.. 10'Jii-203a, 4236-4276 )
Towards the end of the 1 4th tcmmy , a< ivc.n.l- I'.i-sover and Pentecost,
the custom fell into desiielude. but ilown lo oiii o«ii days some A
the congregations of Italy cpiilmm' Hie us,ii:c ol icntiug the Targan.
Onkelosiu connexion with ihe n.iir.iiioii of the ileath of Moses. Thi»
custom, hovrever, is-now rapidly dym- rait. As regards the recitatioo
of liie Targum ou thej-roiihets. a <-mM r. iniiai.t ol the cougiegatiora
following the rilc 01 Rome (i.e.. the so.called Jtnliam) continue il
to llrs d;iv on the fcstivil of Passover. For the use of the Taigui*
su Pelitecosi, see /irs**"'*!. by Iv Me.r »( Rothenburg (Roaa, y.«
Cooioote 31. No« SSk..
T A R G U M
65
Bible. Thus the Targums, both in their periods of vigour
and decay, exercised, directly and indirectly, a salutary
iofluence. In each case the knowledge of Hebrew was
promoted ; and it advanced so much, that by 1000 a.d.
the Jews of Irak,. like those of the rest of the world then,
and as in our own days, certainly knew the pure Hebrew
better than the Aramaic idiom. The same was the case in
other Arabic-speaking parts, as Spain, Africa, ic, — Yemen
then and still forming a solitary exception.*
Authorship and Age of the Variotts Targums. — The
Targums on the various books of the Bible are not merely
by various authors, but also of various ages. They have
only one thing in common, — all of them rest on oral tradi-
tions, which are hundreds of years older than the earliest
form of the wTitten Targums now ii, our hands. We
enumerate them according to Biblical order, although that
is not necessarily the chronological order in which they
were either composed or committed to writing.
I. The Pct!t'jUuc}i.—{a) There is a complete Targum known as
Onkelos (DlSp:iX. D^pjlX. Dl^pJS, DlS"P21N). The person and
even the name of Onkelos have been for the last three hundred
years a crux criticorum.
According to the Babylonian Talmud, iiegil., Z<t, " Onkelos (son
of Calonicus, GitC, 564, or of Calonymus, 'Ah. Zor., lln), the pro-
selyte, composed the Targum on the Pentateuch (ilDX) out of the
mouth of R. Eli'ezer and K. Yehoshua',' who tauglit in the 1st and
2d centuries. Ic the Jerusalem Talmud, Meg., i.9, tlie same thing
is related on the same authorities, and almost in the same words,
of the proseljte Aquila (Akylas) of Pontus, whose Creek version
of the Bible was much used by Greek-speaking Jews down to tlie
tilde of Justinian [Xov., cxlvi. cap. 1).' There are other jiarallcls
between what Toscphlo and the Babylonian Talmud tell of Onkelos
and what the Jerusalem Talmud aud the MiJiash tell of Aquila.
Both throw their idolatrous inheritance into the Dead Sea (Tos.,
Demai, vi. 12 ; T. Y.,Demai, vi. 10). and,both have connexions with
Roman emperors, Onkelos being sister's son of Titus {GiUin, 56b),
and Aquila of Hadrian {Midr. Tnuh., Mishpadm; see, also, for
Onkelos, 'Ab. Z., 11a, and for Aquila's connexion with Hadrian, T.
Y., n<i^.,\\. 1; Shcm. Rah , xx\.; V.-;<\x\\a.m.Ms, Dc Mens, ci Pond. ,
xiv. sq.). From these facts some (see N. Adlcr, Xctlivmh laggcr,
in the VUnaPent., 1874, Introd.) still argue that Onkelos is but
another name for Aquila, and that the Greek translator also wrote
onr Targum. This view was long ago refuted by R. 'Azaiyah de'
Rossi,' and is quite untenable. It is incredible that Aquila or any
other Greek could have had the mastery of Aramaic and of tradi-
tronal lore as well as of Hebrew which the Targum displays; and
the phrase of T.Y.i'it/cyiX, i. 9, "an untutored jierson picked out for
them Aramaic from the Greek," is quite inapplicable to Onkelos,
and ought to be taken as referring to the Pcshito Syriac, which is
admittedly dependent on the L.\X. In a Jewish wTiting "for
them" — set absolutely— means "for the Christians." The view
now accepted by tnost critics is that the word Onkelos is a
Babylonian corruption of Akylas, but that the name' "Targum
Onkelos " originally meant no more than " Targum in the style of
Aquila," i.e., bearing to the freer Palestinian Targums a similar
relation to that of Aquila's version to the Septuagint.'' On this
view there never was a real person called Onkelos. But how Akylas
(D^'P?; in Ber. Sah.,i. middle, DlS'** or I'VpX, i.e., )'!?'pX)
eonld be corrupted into Onkelos has not been satisfactorily ex-
plained ; and, besides the traditions about Onkelos which resemble
what is kuown about Aquila, there are others, and these older than
• In Yemen the Targum is publicly recited to this day, and, strange
to say, by boys of nine years of age or so in turn. See .1. S.iphir,
Ebm Sappir, i. (Lyck, 1866, Svo) leaves 536, 61o. Saphir once told
the present writer that a youth, eighteen years of age {lU supra, 616),
who- carried his travelling-bag and served as bis guide over the
moontaios. Said, >'.«., 'Se'adyah, by name and a shoemaker by trade,
could tranaUte to him in Aramaic from memory any passage Saphir
recited in Hebrew.
' For the connexion of Aquila with R. Eli'ezer and R. Yehoshua', sea
also Bcresk. Rat., lii. ; Bemidb. Rob., viii. end ; Kohel Rah., vii. 8.
' I.e., "min Haadummim." The AUunimim are supposed to b«
one of the four noble families carried to Rome by Titus.
♦ The Jerusalem Talmud repeatedly cites Aquila's renderings and
never names Onkelos. But it does show acqimintance with renderings
found in Onkelos (e.g.', Megil., iv. 11 ; cf. Onk. on Exod. xiiiL 35)
In the Midrash Rabbah, besides many citations from Aquila, we find
one of Onkelos by name (in Bern. R„ ir. -in fine ; Onk. on Deut. xxxii.
24)_aiid various allusions (without name) to renderings found in him.
He'ia alao cit«d byname in the Palestinian Piiekede-R Eli'ezer, ixxviii.
either Gcmara, which have no such resemblance, and assign to him'
an earlier date, associating him with R. Ganiliel the elder, tlie
teacher of St Paul (Toscphlo, Shab., vii, [viii.] 18; Hnij., iii. 2, 3;
Ktl. Bab. Balh., ii. 4; Mhv., vi. 3; Talmud h.,'Ab. Zar., 11a;
Mas. Semah., viii. init.). The Zohnr (iii. leaf 73a of the small ed.)
ascrilies his being ciicunicised to HiUel (R.Camliel's grandfather)
and Shanimai. These notices, it is true, do not speak of Onkelos as'
a targumist; and, indeed, the Targum being a representative picc«'
of the oral law was certiinly not written down, private notes {i)iegil-\
lolk sdharim) excepted, belore the Mishnah, Toscphlo, kt:., i.e., till
about the end of the 6th or the beginning of the 7th ceuluiy. But
in the opinion of the present writer this need not prevent us from
recognizing Onkelos as a corrector and compiler of oral 'I'argiun in
the 1st century! As regards the name, it may be"suggciitt.d that
Onkelos -is a deliberate perversion of Evangehis, a Gruck* proper
name which exactly translates the Jewish (aud especially Uabylou-
ian-Jewish) name Mcbasser. As the Christian wiitings arc called
Aval (iniquity, idolatry), and as the pre-Mishuic tcaclier R. Meir
calls the gospel {cvangelion) ongillayon (iniquity of the roll ; T. 13.,
Shab., leaf 116, Amst. ed. of 1645), or, by inveision, gibjon-avcn
(roll of iniquity), the name Evangclus, which suggested associations
with the gospel, might be perverted into Onkelos quasi Ou-keles
(iniquity of disgrace/.- And, w-hile a Babylonian Jew comi,iig to,
Palestine might lind it convenient to translate his Hebrew name into
Evangelus, this good Greek name was enough to suggest in after
times that he was of heathen origin and so to facilitate the con-
fusion with Aquila. The idioni of the Targum Onkelos, whii h is
held to bo Palestinian with some Babylonian features, points to-
Babylonia as the country of its final redactor, if to Palestine as
its source. It must bo remembered that Hillel and other great
fountains of Palestinian learning were of Babylonian origin.* . -*i,.'1
(3) Certain Targumic fragments on the Pentateuch go under the
name of Targum Yerushalmi, or, rather, Palestinian Targum.
These are the remains of a much larger Jcrusalan, Targum, once
current in' P^alcstine. But, the Palestinian rabbis not having
ajiproved of It, perhaps because it accorded in various of its
interpretations and phrases with interpretations and phrases to
- 1
' BiUiographtj of the Targum D17PJ1X.— (A) There are very fine:
MSS. of this Targum at Parma, Oxford, Cambridge (Dd. 11, 26,
Add. 446, 1053), the British Museum, Kissingen (Rabbin Bamberger),
ic. (B) .\ Massoreth on our Targum by an anonymous author,
who must have lived in or before the 12th century, has been pub-,
lished— (1) by Luzzatto (Osar Xchmad, iv.); (2) by Adler (Vdua-
edition of the PenUteuch of 1874) ; and (3) by Berliner (with a
German translation, &c., Leipsic, 1877, Svo). (C) Leading editions:
— (1) Bologna, \i&'i,editio princeps, without vowel-points; (2) the
Complutensian polyglott ; (3) the Bomberg Rabbinic Bible of 1517;
(4) Sabbioneta, 1557, 16mo (reprinted, not without mistakes, at
Berlin, 18S4, imp. Svo) ; and (5) Vilna edition of the Pent,ateuch of
1S74, the Targum being pointed according to a Bodleian MS. (Canon.'
Orient, 91). (D) Translations :—((i) into Latin — (1) by Alphonsus
Zamorensis (Polygl., 1517, ic); (2) by P. Fagius (Strasburg, 1546,'
folio); (6) into English by Etheridge (Targums, London, 1S62-65''
Svo). (E) Commentaries, all in Hebrew:— (1) Pathshegen, by an'
anonymous Proven9al rabbi of the 12th century (see MiHzoBi, in
the V'ilna Pentateuch of 1874; (2) by R. Mordekhai b. Jv'aphtali
(Amsterdam, 1671-77, fob) ; (3) Lchem Vesimlah (double con)mentai-)')
by R. Bensiyyon Berkowitz (Vilna, 1846-66); (4) by Dr Nathan
M. Adler (Vilna Pentateuch of 1874, ut supra). (F) Other litera-
ture (also for the other Targums): — (a) in Hebrew — Meor 'Enayim,
by R. 'Azaryah m. Haadummim (cheapest and best edition, Vilna,
1863; Mine Targuiw, by R. Y. Berlin or Pick (Breslau, 1851, 4to);
Oheb Oer, by S. D. Luzzatto (Vienna, 1830) ; 'Oteh Or, by the before-
named B. Berkowitz ('V'ilna, 1843) ; Iggereth Biihoreth, by R Z. H.
Hayyuth (Chajes), ed. Briill, Pi-esburg (1S53, Svo); Rapoport, '£rekh
Millin, (Prague, 1852, 4to) ; Lijwy, Bikkoreth JIaltalviud, i. (Vienna,'
1863, 8vo); (6) in L,itin — Morinus, Sxerdtatioiies, ii. viii. 6 (Paris '
1650) ; Winer, De Onkeloso (Leipsic, 1820, 4to) ; R. Anger, De Oithelo
(Leipsic, 1845-46) ; (c) iu German— Zunz, Gollesd. Vorlrage (Berlin,
1832) ; Geiger, Vrschri'l (Breslau, 1857) ; Hamburger, Real-Ency-
kloptidie; Targum Onkelos, by Dr A. Berliner (Berlin, 1S84, imp.'
Svo). -On this work, see Nbldeke, in Zarncke's Centralbl., IS&t,
No. 39, and Lagarde in Gbtt. Gel. An:dg., November 1886 (No. 22);
(d) in English : E. Deutsch, in his Literary Remai-ns—io be used'
with caution. (G) Lexicons to this and other Targums :— -(I) as for
the Talmuds and Midrashim, so also for the Targum, R, Nathan
b. Yehiel's 'Arukh (see Talmud, p, 37, note 7) stands fii-st ; (8) nex^
to it is Elias Lcvita's Methurgcman (Uay, 1541, fob); (3) Buxtorf'a
Lexicon Chaldaicttm, Tabmulicum, el Rabbinicum (cheap and new^
though by no means best, edition, Leipsic, 1869-75); (4) J^vy's
Chald. WorUrb. (1S66-68) ; (5) Jastrow's Dictionary, i. (New York,
1886), (H)Grammars:—{l)JndaJeitteles's.V«Jo,ffa«ojfto« (Prague,'
1813, 4to); (2) Blucher's ilarpe Lcshon Aramvii (Vieimai 1838);
(3) Ftirst's Lehrgeb. d. Aram. Idiome (Leipsic, 1865); (4) Lemer'e.
Dii-'dvk Lashon Arammith CWarsaw, 1876) ; all in 8vo.
64
T A R G U ^I
be lodnd in tlie Gospels, *..it graduully lost its outhority ^md the
greater portion of its origiual matter, and is now in our hands
what It is. It certainly never was part of the T. Onkclos, nor was
the T. Onkelos^nri of it, though the two are closely related. As
regards its age, several of the pieces formerly found in it (now in
T. YoTiathan) were in the 2d and 3d centuries distinctly quoted ^
with disapprobation. But like Onkdos it cannot have been written
down before the Mishttak and other parts of the oral Law.
(7) The Tarijum Yoixalhan, or T. of Jonathan, on the PcntQ-lcuch
is also Palestinian. This Targum was no doubt undertakeit, as Dr
Bacher has shown {_Z.D.M. 0., xxviii. p. 69), ta combine the finest
parts of what early T. Onkdos and T. Yc-rushalmi contained. This
attempt could ^ot have been made without both these Targums
lying in writing before the compiler of the third Targum. The
Targwn Yonathan on the Pentateuch is a product, at the earliest,
of the 7th century, to which conclusion internal evidence also
points.* The author is, of course; not the Yonathan b. 'Uzzicl,
principal of the eighty disciples of Hillel {T. B., Sukkah, 28a),
whoj according to T. Bab., McgilL, 3a, composed a Targum on the
Prophets from the traditions of Haggai, Zechaiiah, and Malaclii.*
II. TarguiJi Yonathan 0)1 the Prophets. — It has been known from
early quotations, as from Rashi {q.v.) and others*, but notably from
KiMHi ig.v.), that, in addition to the complete extant Targum on
tlie Proplicts, there existed other Targums or fragments of them.
These are now known from the marginal additions to the Reuch-
linian Codex of the Targum on the Pro};hets published by Lagarde
(Leipsic, 1872), and have been discussed by Baoher (ut sup.). As
regards tlie complete Targum on the Prophets, no mistake can be
greater than to believe that Rab Yoscph, a teacher of the 3d
and 4th centuries, and head of the academy of Pumbaditlia (see
Rabbah), was the author of this Targum in whole or in part. This
mistake has its origin in the repeated plirase of the Babyloni lu Tal-
mud, C^DV 31 DJ"in01D ("as Rab Yoseph targumizes") ; butthena
similar phraseexistswithregardtoRabShesheth,nt;*C' 31 DJ")nDlD
(" a3 Rab Shesheth ^ targumizes "). And in like manner the expres-
sion p^OJinOID ("aswetargumizo") is of frequent occurrence. In
this last instance the words mean "as we are in the habit of
translating certain passages in Holy Writ according to a Targum
we have received," As applied to Rab Yoseph and Rab Shesheth
the phrase may certainly mean more aud yet not imply that these
teacners were in any way authors of the Targum on the Law, the
Prophets, or Hagiographa. Pjib Yoseph and Rab Shesheth were
both blind, and as such were not allowed to quote in exienso the
written word of the Law, which it was forbidden to recite orally.
They therefore committed to memory the oral Targum, and so were,
of courbc, appealed to as Targumic authorities, &c.' That Rab
Yoseph was not the author of tlie Targum on the Prophets will be
clearly seen from the following Talnmdic passage {B., Mcgillah, 3a;
Mded Katan, 286) : — "Were it not for the Targum of that verse
(Zpchar. iii. 11] I should not know the meaning of the prophet."
This verse is from the last but one of all the Prophets i^ and we
see that R^b Yoseph must have had the Targum on the Prophets
before him. In the ojiinion of the present writer this Targum was
composed by Yonathan ; and, not being ou books of the Law, ther^
xvas no reason why it should not have been there and then written
t_ __ .
' See T. Yer. , Berakhoth, v. 3, and compare with it Luke vi. 36.
Compare Berliner, ut supra, pp. 85, 86.
* Compare last note.
' Bibliography of the Targum, Yerushatmi <m the Pentateutk. — (A)
There is a MS. of this Targum preserved in the Vatican library (ccccxl.).
(B) The first eOilioo of thisTargura is in the so-called Christian Rabbinic
Bible of 1517. It is to be found also in most poly^lott and Rabbinic
Bibles, iDcludtngthe Polish editions (Warsaw, ic. ). (CjTraaslations ;
—(a) Latin— (1) by Taylerus {London, ]fi49, 4to); (2) by Chevalier
{ia the Pol i/glott, London, 1653-57). (b) in English by Ethcridge( Tar-
guTtis, Loniion, 1862-65, 8vo). (D) There are two commentaries on
this Targum in Hebrew !—(!)' by R. David b. Ya'akob (Prague, 1609,
4to); (2) by R. Mordekbai b. Naphtali (Amsterdam, 1G71-77, fol ^.
* See our Targum on Gen. xxi. 21, where Mohammed's first Wife
(Kbadi'lja) and their youngest daughter (Fatima) are mentioned by
uamo.
* Bibliography. — (A) There certainly exists," somewhere in Italy, a
MS of this Targum, although tho o\viier is at present luikuowc. (B)
This Targum ippoared for the first time in the Pentateuch edition of
Venice (1590-91, 8vo). (C) Translations ;— (a) Latin by Chevalu-i
(London. 1653-57); (i) in English by Etheridge [op. cxt.). \ (D) Com-
menUriea:— (1) by R. David h. Ya'akob (Prague, 1609, 4to). (2) by
R Mordekbai b. NaphtaU (Amst., 1671-77, fol.); (3) by an nnouy-
mous B'jthor in the Warsaw edition.
* Id the editiooa before us (T. B., Sotak, 4d&) Yoseph stands on the
margin instead of Shesheth ; hut iu thtf edition before R 'Azaryab ni.
Haadummim the reading was absolutely Shesheth ; see Meor " Enaytm^
cap. xlv,
' 6ee Tosaphoih on B. Kam., leaf 3a, catchword D3"lnD^D.
' 'llii^ 13 by no moans an isolated phrase ; m T. B., Synhednn, 9ib,
ft similar one* ncci^rs. referri.ig t') Isa. viii. 6.
dowii.^ Although tho traditions itemhodies came originally from
Babylonia and returned to Babylonia, its language has yet u more
marked colouring of. the Palestinian idiom than that of Onkclos,
because it was not studied so much and therefore not so much
modified and interpolated. Some of the Agadoth occurring in
this Targum are ascribed in the Talmud and filidrash to^ later
men, but this is no conclusive argument against an early date. It
can be shown that many laws and sayings supposed to he of the
2d, Sd.'and 4th centuries of the Christian era are actually of pre-
Christiaii times, and, indeed, certain explanations, figures of
speech, &c., had been, so to say, floating in tlie air for centuries.
Certain passages in the Septuagint contain Agadoth which le-
appear, seemingly for the first time, in the Talinudic literature.
The Prophets themselves kn^w Agadoth which only reappear in
what are believed to be late Midiashim (comp., c.g.j Isaiah xxi.x.
22 with T. B., SijiCk., 196; Isa. xxx., 26 with Targum on Judges
V. 31, Per. Rab.t xii.; Ezek. xxii. 24, &c., with Per. Pah,, xxxiii.).'«
III. Targumon the Hagiographa. — Noauthor's name isattached
to this Targum in whole or in part. The Psalms must have had
one'^ or two^- Targums ; the book of Proverbs at least two ; '^ the
book of Job at least three.'* Tiiere must have been two Targums on
Canticles,'^ Ruth,*'' Ecclesiastes," and Estiier,'^and probably thecc
on Lamentations,'^ the earliest of which was," no doubt, simultane-
ously coming into existence with the 'Earliest on the book of Job.
For 'Ezra-Nehemiah no Targum exists. Daniel only in part wanted
a Targum, and it is supposed to have had one ;-" and The books
(or rather the book) of Chronicles have a by no means late one.-'
although it is not by Rab Yoseph, of the 4th century.-^
* See, however, vol. xxi. p. 648.
^^ Bibliography. — (A) There are MSS. of the Targum on the Propheu
in the Bodleian (0pp. Add., 4to, 75 and 76, Uii 4 and Keuuicott
5), (B) The earliest edition is in the Rabbinic Bible of 1517. (C)
Translations : — {a) m Latin — (1) by Alphousus Zaniorensis (revised by
Arias Moutauus and afterwards by Cloricus) ; (2) Jeremiah, by
Ghislerus, 1623; (3) Minor Prophets, by Mercenis, 1559, Tremelhus,
1567, aud Figueiro, 1615; (4) Hosea, Joel, and Amos, by Quinquar-
boreu.s, 1556; (5) Obadiah, by Bedwell, 1601, and Leusden, 1656;
(6) in English— Isaiah, by PauU (London. 1871. Svo). (D) Besidei
the general literature mentioned uuder " Onkelos" (nifne), we must
mention Frankel, Zum Targum der Propheten (Breslau, 1872, 4to),
which must be used with caution.
" See T. B., Megillah, 21a, and also Rashi on T. B., Ta'amlh, leal
18a. 2unz is greatly mistaken when he says {Gott. Vorlr., p. 64) that
the Targums on Psalms, Job, and Proverbs have one aud the eAXne
linguistic character. The Tai-guni on Proverbs is almost pure S>Tiac.
'■- See the Targum itself on Psalm Ixxvt 11. ^
'^ There, no doubt, existed another Targum ou this book, older than
that now in our hands; see Ber. Pab., xciii.
'* See the extant Targum on Job xxiv. 19, and.comp. note 19 in/nu
" SeeR. Nathan b. Yehicl's '^ruW, s.v. NWD. _ A J^Yerushalml
Targum " presupposes at least one other.
J8 'fhe Targum on the Five MegiUotb has all one character, and is
therefore wholly YerushalmL
^' The Targum itself repeatedly quotes another Targura.
" See Rashi on T. B., Megillah, leaf 136, catchword HO?: We
have still two Targums on Esther. It ought to be mentioned hera
that in the post-Talmudic Maasfkheth Sop/ierxm, xiiL 6, an ArauSaic
translation of Esther iii. I is given wth the introductory words :
D3"U1 c^Dl* 3"> (**Rab Yoseph targumized "). This somewhat lengthy
translation is found (the quotation from the Targum on Proverbs
excepted) almost verbatim in the Targum. Sheni in he '
^^ The book of Liimentations, and consequently a Targum thereon,'
was no doubt used along with the book of Job and the Targum
thereon, by mournere. See Scbiller-Szinessy, Catalogue, i. p. 27.
-" See Munk, " Notice sur Saadia " (Cahen, La Bible: 'Isaic, Paris,
1S38), p. 159. His ingenious remarks are scarcely home out by fact.
2' From a late name occun'ing in a book no conclusions must b«
drawn, as isolated words may be a mere interpolation. The internal
character of a work must decide the age in which it was composed.
^ Biblwqraphy.— {A) There are MSS. of the Tarium— (l)on the
Psalms, in Parma (De-Rossi, 31. 32, 732) and Pans (110); (2) on
Proverb.-!, in Parma (31, 32) and Paris (as before); (3) on Job, in
Parma (31, 32) and Paris {as before); (4) on the Five Megilloth.
ID the Coujt Library of Vienna (xxix.), Parma {31, 32), the Bod-
leian (Un 1, 44), Cambridge (Add., 436); and (5) on Chronicles in
the Vatic^a (Urb. 1.), the Erfurt ministerial library, Cwnhridge (E
5. 9), ond the Bodleian (Uri 35, 30). (B) The carhest editions of the
Targum on the Hagiographa (exci^jjt on Daniel, Ezra-Nehemiab, and
Chronicles) are the Rabbinic Sible^ luid on Chronicles those of 1680-83
by Beck and 1714 by Wjlkins. (C) Translations: — (a) in Hebrew —
the Targum Sheni—(l) leshon Zahab (Const., 1732X and (2) Path
shegen hakkethab (Amst., 1770, ropr. at Czemowitz, 1888).— all Svo,
(ft) iu Latin— (1) on the Psalms, by Aug. Justinianua, and again bj
Anas Moutanus ; (2) on Proverbs, by AJpbomjus Zamorenflis; (3) on
Job, by the same; (4) on Canticles, by the aame, /and tigain^ by
Schreckeiitucbs (Bxsel. 1553. Svo); (5) on Ruth, by Arias Montanos.
T A R— T A R
65
Sale of Text. — The Targum text is, taken as a whole, in a very
corn ijt state. The cansos of this corniption are many, but chiefly
the following : — (1) mistakes ordinarily made by scribes through
carelessness, or ignorance, or both ; (2) the Targunis had passed
from century to century and from country to country without
having been written down ; (3) when written down they were prob-
ably not provided with vowel points at once ; (4) when provided
with vowel-points most of them were first provided with Babylonian
(or Assyrian), which afterwards were changed into Palestinian ones ;
this change was a fertile source of fresh mistakes ; (5) the loss of
the general knowledge of the Targumic idiom contingent on the
decline and final fall of the institution of publicly reciting the
Targum was an additional source from which mistakes arose ; (6)
conjectural emendations contributed their quota to the corruption
of the text ; (7) Buxtorfs emeudatioos founded on the diction of
the Biblical Targum (as suggested in the ^fcthtn■galtan) are a gross
mistake, inasmuch as they lack the criticism of history ; (8)
printers* mistakes, increasing in every nevv edition, have all but
ruined the text. The remedies for this corruption are : — (1) good
Targum MSS. in private hands and public libraries, notably in
Italy, Germany, and England ; (2) Targum MSS , according to the
Babylouieo Assyrian system of punctuation, chiefly preserved in
South Arabia, Russia, and England ; (3) some early and com-
paratively gooil printed editions ; (4) the Mtissorclh. of the Targum.
Value of the Tarjims. — The idea so long entertained, even by
the learned, that these old versions were valuable chiefly as guides
to the original readings of the sacred text must be given up. All
of them contain more or less, whether visible at first sight or not,
certain paraphrastic elements, which give no absolute security for
the exact reading of the pristine Hebrew text But besides tlieir
imporUince as linguistic monuments they have the highest value
as historical records — (1) of the exegesis which obtained at the
time of their composition, and (2) of the then current manners,
thoughts, and aspirations both of the Jews and of the surrounding
nations.' . _^ (S. M. S.-S.) '
i. TARIFfA, a seaport of Spain,' in'the provicce of Cadiz,
at the extreme south point of the Peninsula, 59 miles south-
east from Cadiz and (by land) 21 miles west-south- west
from Gibraltar. The town is nearly quadrangular, with
narrow crooked streets, and is still surrounded by its old
Moorish walls. On its east side, just within these, stands
the alcazar. The rocky island in front of the town, con-
nected with the mainland by a causeway, is strongly forti-
fied, and in some sense commands the Strait of Gibraltar
It has a lighthouse, 135 feet high, which has a range of
30 miles.'v The population within the municipal limits was
12,234 in l§77.s Anchovy and tunny fishing is carried
on, and there is some coasting trade. The manufactures
{leather and earthenware) are unimportant.^ ^Tbe oranges
of Tarifa are famed for their sweetness.
Tarifa is the Julia Joza of Strabo, between' Gades and Belong
which, according to that ^vrite^, was colonized by Romans and the
removed inhabitants of Zelis in Mauretania Tingitana, The
Jiclii Transduda or Traducta of coins and of Ptolemy appears to
be the s.ime place. Its present name (Arabic Jaziral Tarlf) is
derived froin Tarif, the forerunner of Tarik'(seo vol. xvi.'p. 573).
After a long siege it was taken from the Jloors in 1292 by Sancho
IV. of Castile, who entrusted it to the keeping of Alonzo Perez
Quiiiquarhoreus (Paris, 1556, 4to), Mercerus (Paris, 1564-65; revised
1657); (6) on Lamentations, by Alph. Z.ini., by Quinquarboreus
(Pans, 1549, 4to), by Ghislerus (Leyd., 1623, fol.), and again by
Taylerus (Lond. 1651, 4to) ; on Ecclesiastes, by Ar. Mont., by
Schrecketifuchs (Basel, 1555, 8vo), and ag.iin by Costus (Leyden,
1554, 4to); (7) on Esther, by Ar. Mont. (1572, folio); (8) Chronicles
by Beck from' the Erfurt MS. (imperfect, Augsb., 1680-83), and by
Wilkins from the Cambridge MS. (Amst. 1715); (c) in German —
(1) on the Five Megilloth, by R. Ya'akob b. Shemuel (Breisgau, 1584,.
4to); (2) on' the Targum Sheni, by David Ottensosser (Sulzb.ach,"
1820, 8vo).' (D) Commentaries: — (a) in Hebrew— (1) on the Targum
of the Five. Megilloth, by R Elyakim Rothenburg (Prague, 1618);
(2) on Esther alone, by R. Shemuel Makshan (Prague, .1601, 4to);
(3) on the same Targun;,' by R. David b. Yehudah Melammed (Cracow,
1644, 4to) ; or. t:i6 Targun Sheni, by R. David b. Ya'akob (Prague,
1609, 4to) ; (6) in Spanish— on Canticles.by R. Mosheh Laniado
(Venice, 1619. 4to).
' R. . YehuJah Ibn Koreish fully understood the v.alue of the
Targuras. See his interesting epistle, addressed to the Jewish com-
munity of Fez, published at Paris (1857, 8vo), under the name of
Epislota de Htudii Targum Vtiltlate. : A translation of the intro-
ductory part (by Wetzstein) is given ia the Z- B. 0., iii. col. 22
(reprinted by Dr Berliner, T. 0., p. 168 sj). ! Ibn Koreish belonged
to the 9th century, and not, as Berliner says, to the 10th or 11th;
nor was he a Karaite as Graetz (v. p 293) half believes '
23—5
de Guzman ; the heroic defence by the latter," commemorated iii
the Romancero, earned for him the name gf Guzman "cl Bueno.'*
It was in the defence of Tarifa tjiat Alfonso XI. gained the battle
of Sal.ado, a short distance to the westward, in 1340. 'The placs
was successfully, defended ag.ainst the French by Cough in 1812.
TARN, a dfipartment of southern France, formed in"
1790 of the three dioceses of Albi, Casties, and Lav.'iur,'
all belonging to tho province of Languedoc, lies between
42° .23' and 4-t° 12' N. lat. and 1° 32' and 2° 50' E-
long.' It is bounded N. and E. by Aveyron, S.E. by
Herault, S. by Aude, S.W. and "W. by Haute-Garonne,
N.W. by Tarn-et-Garonne/ The slope of the department
is from east to west, and its general character is moun-
tainous or hilly; its three principal ranges,'the Mountains
of Lacaune (peak of Moirtalet, 4154 feet), the Sidqbre, aud
the Montague Noire, belonging to the Cevennes, lie on the
south-east. ^ The stony and wind-blown slopes of the first-
named are used for pasturage. The highest point of the
range and of the department is the Pic de Montalet (4154
feet) I several other summits are not much short of this.'
The granite-strewn plateaus of the Sidobre, from 1600 to
2000 feet high, separate the valley of the AgoiJt from
that of the Thor6. ^ The Montague Noire derives its nama
from the forests on its northern slope, and some of its
peaks are from 3000 to 3500 feet high. The limestone
and sandstone foot-hills are clothed with vines and fruit
trees, and are broken by deep alluvial valleys of extra--
ordinary fertility.' 'With the exception of a small portion
of the Montague Noire, which drains into the Aude, the
whole department belongs to the basin of the Garonne,'
— indeed, if the rivulet Giron be excepted, to that of the
Tarn, which flow's in a westerly direction past Albi, Gaillac,'
Lisle, and Eabastens, receiving on the left the Agoflt at
St Sulpice. Northern Tarn is drained by the Aveyron
and its tributary the Viaur.', The eastern portion of the
department has the climate of Auvergne, the severest in
France, but that of the plain is Girondin. At Albi the
mean temperature -is 55°, and the rainfall 29'5 inches.'
The population of the department in 1886 was 358,757.
.Of the total area of 2217 square miles, or 1,418,969 acres, there
are 887,709 acres of arable land, 118,071 of meadows, 118,934 of
vineyards, 186,594 under wood, and 52,408 of moorland. By last
returns there were 11,360 horses, 3280 Timles, 5430 asses, 20,550
bulls and oxen, 53,900 cows and heifers, 13,240 calves, 455,500
sheep (wool-clip iu 1878 1209 tons), 87,700 pigs, 5350 goats, and
17,190 bee-hives. In 1878 37 tons 14 cwt. of silk cocoons were pro-
duced. Oxen and sheep are fattened; ewes' milk cheese like that
of Roquefort is made ; and geese and turkeys are reared. Tho
crops in 1881 were- wheat,.3,429,112 bushels; meslin, 53,113;
rye, 1,371,040; barley, 37,730; buckwheat, 8448; maizeand millet,
1,566,873; oats, 538,422; potatoes, 2,554,860; dry vegetables,
374,715; chestnuts, 268,125; beetroot, 196,625; 782 tons of hemp;
476 of flax; 9,676,476 gallons of wine (only half the quantity ol
the previous year, owing to the phylloxera)^ Koth common and
good table wines are produced.
The mineral products include marble, porphyry, granite, lime,
manganese, sulphate of baryta, alum, iion, lignite, and tourmaline.
In 1881 335,430 tons of coal were taken from seven pits, and other
mines are about to be opened. , There arc iron, alkaline, thermal,
and carbonate of lime springs. The chief centre for the mann-
facture of woollen stufl"3 (in 1875 287 mills, 6457 workmen, and
98,615 spindles) and for wool-spinning and weaving (4893 machine
and hand looms) is at Maza.met (j.r.), but all sorts of woollen and
cotton stuffs are produced in other localities. Other industrial
products are woollen hosiery, cotton, silk, and linen thread,
morocco, hats, earthenware, glass, soap ; and there are tanneries,
distilleries, flour-mills, breweries, dye-works, sawmills, printing-
works, and numerous limekilns. In 1881 929 tons of steel and
1947 tons of iron of various kinds were produced. The Tarn is
'navigable for 43 miles; there are 208 miles of national roads, 4274
of other roads, and 120 of railway. The department forms the
diocese of Albi, and belongs to the 16th corps d'armee (Montnellier),'
and the court of appeal is at Toulouse. The chef-lieu is Albi.
There are 4 arrondissements (Albi, J^astres, Gaillac, Lavanr), SS
cantons, and 318 communes. ^
TARN-ET-GARONNE, a department of south-western
France, was formed in 1808 of districts formerly belonging
to Guienne and Gascony (Ouercy, Lomagne, Armagnac
•XXIII. —9
66
T A R — T A R
Bouergue, Agenais), with the addition of a small piece of
i,anguedoc. From 1790 to 1808 it was divided between
Ui8 departments of Lot, Haute-Garonne, Tarn, Aveyron,
Gers, and Lot-et-Garonne. Lying between 43° 47' and
44' 25 N. lat. andO° 55' and 1° 58' E. long., it is bounded
on ttl6 N. by Lot, on the E. by Aveyron, on the S. by
I'asa .and Haute-Garonne, and on the W. by Ger& and
JLOt-et>Garonne. The Garonne and its tributary the Tarn
Uli'tea few miles below Moissac, and separate the ele^'ated
lanas to the north, which belong to the CevenneS and
the central plateau, from those to the south, which are a
continuation of the plateau of Lannemezan. The principal
tributary of the Tarn on the right is the Aveyron, the
affluents of which run through remarkably parallel valleys
from "Borth-east to south-west. The general slope of the
department is from east to west; the highest point (1634
faet) is oa the border of Aveyron, the lowest (164 feet)
w^cra the Garonne leaves it. The winter temperature
is 8T* F., that of spring and autumn 54° F., .and that
of summer 72° F. Kain falls seldom, but heavily, espe-
cially in spring, the annual rainfall being 28'9 inches.
Of i total area of about 1436 square miles, or 919,265 acres,
arable land occupies 552,708 acres, meadows and grass 45,073,
vineyards 102,849, woods 115,429, moorland and pasturage 41,S19.
The returns in 1883 showed 2,167,000 bushels of wheat, 35,062 of
maslin, 62,975 of rye, 77,000 of barley, 2,722,500 of oats, 759,000
ofraaize, 1,867,250 of potatoes, 35,468 tons of beetroot, 172 tons
8 o^tt. of colza seed, 399 tons of hemp, 394 tons of flax, 250,788
to.18 of foddor, 12 tons 15 cwt. of silk cocoons, 20,048,380 gallons
of wine. The live stock ic 1881 included 14,336 horses, 1680
mules, 2120 asses, 89,295 cattle of various descriptions, 116,349
sheep, 1353 goats, 32,375 pigs ; 6347 beehives gave 25 tons 13 cwt.
of honey and 8 tons 2 cwt. ot wax. There are 57 quarries, employ-
in.T 426 workmen, where phosphates of lime, lithographic stone,
freestone, potters* clay, gy^isura, and schist for slating are worked,
as are also iron and copper. The manufacturing industry is repre-
sented by flour-mills, various kinds of silk-mills (1317 workmen),
acd inanuf.tctories of linen, wool, and paper. Much fruit is grown,
and the principal exports are fresh fruit, wine, flour, phosphates,
lithographic stone. There are S3 miles of waterway, including 48 of
canal, 156 miles of national roads, 3515 of other roads, 127 of rail-
way lines, the centre of which is Montauban. Tarn-et-Garonne is one
of the least densely peopled departments of France: in 1886 there
were 214,046 inhabitants, aird their number is decreasing. Except
some 10,000 Calvinists, all are Roman Catholics. The department
forms the diocese of Montauban, and belongs to the jurisdiction of
the Toulouse court of appeal and to the district of the 17th corps
d'armec (Toulouse). It has 3 arrondisscments (Montauban, Moissac,
and Castel-Sarrasin), 24 cantons, and 194 communes.
TARNOPOL, a market- town in Galicia, Austria, on the
Sereth. It was formerly a fortress, and rendered valuable
services to Polish king's, who, in their turn, conferred upon
it important (iriviloges. The town enjoys a brisk trade in
grain and Avine, and has some sugar factories. Its yearly
horse fairs are famous throughout the country. ■ Thepopu-
lation in 1885 was 27,000, about half of them Jews.
TARPAULIN is a waterproof sheeting consisting of a
Btout canvas cloth impregnated and coated with tar. It is
employed for covering hatchways and other openings into
the holds of vessels, for making covers for railway and
other waggons and farm ricks, and generally for protecting
bulky goods and structures from weather and damp.
Many waterproof compositions other than tar are used for
similar purposes, the princii al ingredients being solutions
of india-rubber, gutta-perclia, and various resinous bodies
combined with pigments. See Waterproofing.
TARQUINIL See Etruria, vol. viii. p. 634.
TARQUINIUS PRISCUS, Lucius, fifth, legendary
king of Rome, is represented as the son of a Greek refugee
who removed from Tarquinii in Etruria to Rome, by the
advice of his wife, the prophetess Tanaquil. Appointed
guardian to the sons of Ancus Marcius, ho succeeded in
supplanting them on the throne on their father's death.
It was he who first established the Circus Maximus, built
the great cloacae, and founded the triple temple on the
Capitol, — the expense of these vast works being defrayed
by plunder seized' from the Latins and Sabijjes. Many
of the ensigns both of war and of civil office are assigned
to his reign, and he was the first to celebrate a Roman
triumph, after the Etruscan fashion, in a robe of purple
and. gold, and borne on a chariot drawn by four horses.
After a reign of thirty-eight years he was assassinated
by the contrivance of the sons of Ancus Marcius, but
Tanaquil had influence enough to «ecure the succession
to Servius TuUius, his son-in-law. See vol. xx. p. 733.
TARQUINIUS SUPERBUS, Lucius, son of the pre-
ceding, and son-in-law of Servius Tullius, immediately
succeeded the latter without any of the forms of election,
and proceeded at once to repeal the recent reforms in the
constitution, seeking to establish a pure despotism in their
place. Wars were waged with the Latins and Etruscans,
but the lower classes were deprived of their arms, and
employed in erecting monuments of regal magnificence,
while the sovereign recruited his armies from his own
retainers and from the forces of foreign allies. The com-
pletion of the fortress temple on the Capitoline confirmed
his authority over the city, and a fortunate marriage of
his son to the daughter of Octavius Manilius of Tusculum
secured him powerful assistance in the field. His reign
was characterized by bloodshed and violence ; the outrage
of his son Sextus upon Lucretia precipitated a revolt, which
led to the expulsion of the entire family, after Tarquin had
reigned twenty-five years. All efforts to force his way
back to the throne were vain, and he died a lonely and
childless old man at Cumaa. See vol. xx. p. 73'<
TARRAGONA, a maritime province in the north-east
of Spain, with an area of 2451 square miles and a popu-
lation in 1877 of 330,105, 'was formerly part of the
province of Catalonia. It is bounded on the S.E. by the
Mediterranean, on the N.E. by Barcelona, on the N. by
Lerida (the Sierra de Almcnar), on the W. by Saragossa
and Teruel, and on the S.W. by Castellon-de-la-Plana.
The Ebro flows through the southern portion of the pro-
vince, and the other chief streams are the Gaya and the
Francoli. The district, although mountainous, is the rich-
est in Catalonia. The hills are clothed with vineyards,
which produce excellent wines, and in the valleys are
cultivated all kinds of grain, vegetables, rice, hemp, flax,
and silk. Olive, orange, filbert, and almond trees reach
great perfection, and the mountains yield rich pastures and
timber trees of various kinds. Manufactures are well
advanced, and comprise all textile fabrics, soap, leather,
and spirits. There are also several potteries and cooj)-
erages, and flour, paper, and oil mills. Silver, copper,
lead, and barytes are plentiful, and quarries of marble and
jasper are worked in the hills.' The military government
of the province is dependent on the captaincy-general of
Catalonia. For administrative purposes the district is
divided into eight parlidos judiciales, containing 1S6
ayuntamientos, and returns three senators and eight
deputies to tie cortes. Besides the capital, the towns
in the province with more than 10,000 inhabitants are
Reus (27,691), Tortosa (23,808), and Valls (13,256).
TARRAGONA, the capital of the above province, is
a flourishing scjiport, the seat of an archbishopric, at
the mouth of the Francoli, 63 miles by rail west-south-
west of Barcelona, in 41° 10' N. lat. and 0° 20' R long.,
with a population of 23,046 in 1877. The picturesque
but badly built older portion of the town stands on the
steep slope of a hill 760 feet high, and is still surrounded
by walls of Roman (in parts Cyclopean) origin. Below the
walls a broad .street, the Rambla, divides the upper from 'he
lower town, which has been more regularly built in modern
times along the low promontory which stretches out into the
Mediterranean. The city is most beautifully situated, and
T A R — T A R
G'
gains consideraLily in etfect from its magnificent cathedral,
one of tlie noblest examples of early Spanish art. It is
300 feet in length and 100 feet in breadth, and consisted
originally of a nave, aisles, transepts with an octagonal
lantern at the crossing, and an apsidal chancel. Several
exterior chape's have been added in later times, and on
the south-east stands a 1-tth-century steeple raised on a
Iloraanesque tower. The east end was probably begun in
1 131 on'the ruins of an earlier church, but the main body
^f the building dates from the end of the r2th century
\nd the first half of the 13th, and is of transitional ch.ar-
icter, — the exuberant richness of the sculptured capitals
being admirably kept in subordination by the Romanesque
^mplicity of the masses. Considerable changes were in-
'roductjd at a later date ; and the present west end of the
.ave cannot have been completed till late in the 14th
century. On the north-east side is a cloister contemporary
with the church, with which it communicates by a very line
doorway. The cloister contains much remarkable work,
and the tracery of the windows bears interesting marks of
Moorish influence. Two other noteworthy churches in the
city are San Pablo and Santa Tecla la Vieja, both, of the
12th century. The mole, begun in U91, was cliiefl.y con-
structed out of the Roman amphitheatre, of which a few
rows of seats can still be s;;en on the seashore. The
remains of a Roman aqueduct form a picturesque feature
in the landscape. The Carcel do Tilatos is said to have
been the palace of Augustus Ca;sar; it was partly destroyed
by SuChet, and now serves as a prison. The museum con-
tains a collection of the Loman antiquities which are con-
tinually being discovered during excavations.
The trade is steaciiiy iucreasing. During ISSfi tlic vessels cleared
amounted to 377, 'JoO tons (45,795 tons Biitii.li, 47,1S1 French,
and 42,017 Swedish and N'oru-e^iaii). Tlic evjioits were valued
at £1.289,533 (wine £1.023,847),'' and the impoits at £1.237,012.
The expwts were mostly to France. Great Hritaiii, and the Itiver
Flate; the imports were chiefly fioin Ocrniaiiy. Russia, France,
and Swe^ien". There is communication ly rail with Barcelona,
Valencia, and Lerida, and by steamer with otliir ports of Spain.
Tarraco was one of the earliest strongholds of the Romans in
Spain, and became a colony (of Julius Caesar), tlie capital b( His-
pania Citerior, and the richest town on the coa:>t. To the Romans
the Visigoths under Euric succeeded in 467, but on their expulsion
by the Jloors in 710 the city was razed to the ground. It w.is long
before the ruins were again inhabited, but by 10S9, when the .Moors
\rere driven out by Raymond IV. of Barcelona, tiarc must have
been a certain revival of prosperity, for the primacy, wliirh had
been removed to Vich, was iu tbat year re.e^tored to Tarragona. In
1118 a grant of the fief was made to the Norniaii Robert Burdct,
who converted the town into a frontier fortress .against tlie Moors.
In 1705 the city was taken and burned by the English, and a cen-
tury K'iter, after being partly fortified by them, it was captured an<l
sacked by the French in ISIl under Suchet.
T.AJJSHISH. See Ph(enicia, vol. xviii. p. S06.
TARSUS, now Taesls, an ancient city in the fertile
plain of Cilicia, la}' on both sides cf the Cydnus, whose
cool and swift waters were the pride of the city (Dio
Chrys., vol. ii. p. 2, Reiske's ed. ; Vila Apollon., i. 7), and
bore traffic t&and from the port of Khegma. In the time
of Xenophon (Anab., i. 2. 23) Tarsus w.is already great
and flourishing, and was the residence- of the vassal king
of Cilicia. Its civilization at this time seems to have been
mainly Semitic, as was to be expected from the geograph-
ical relations of Cilicia, which have generally associated
its history with that of SyTia. We have coins of Tarsus
(nr>) of the Persian period, bearing Arainaio inscriptions;
and the deities of the town, knov.-n lii later times as
Heracles, Perseus, Apollo, Athena (Dio Chr., iL 22), seem
to have been akin to those of the PhcenicianS- and Syrians
(see below). The Semitic influence wds doubtless very
ancient ; indeed, the Assyrians invaded Cilicia iaihe 9th
CBDtury B.C., at which date Tarsus is perlia])« mentioned
on the monuments under the name of 'J'uisi (Schrader,
Keilttuthr. -jAd Gfseh., 1878, p. 240 ; the reading is not
certain). After Tarsus was Hellenized the citizens learned
to boast that they were Argives sprung from the com-
panions of Triptolemus (Strabo, siv. 5. 12; Dio Chr.,
ii. 20), and the town became the seat of a famous school
of philosophy which was frequented almost exclusively
by natives, but sent forth teachers as far as Rome
itself.' More than one of these philosophers, notably
Athenodorus the teacher of Augustus, and Nestor the
teacher of JIarcellus, held the chief magistracy of the city.
Athenodorus and his' predecessors were Stoics, but Nestor
was an Academic (Strabo, xiv. 5. 14),- so that the Platonic
pihilosopliy is that with which Paul would probably have
come in contact ■ if he gave hec^ to the Greek wisdom of
his native city. Presumably, however, he formed no
higher opinion of the culture of Tarsus than did his con-
temporary Apollonius of Tyana, whose testimony as to the
character of the citizens {Vil. Ap., i. 7) is confirmed by-
Dio Chrysostom. . Tarsus had made rapid material, pro-
gress since Cilicia' became Roman (66 B.C.). It w.is the
ca[)ital of a rich province, and had recei\cd freedom from
Antony, and from Augustus the dignity of a metropolis and
important immunities for its commerce (Dio Chr., ii. 30).
The inhabitants were vain, effeminate, and luxurious, more
like Phoenicians than Greeks. Theif sensuous Eastern
religion in these golden days of affluence had more attrac-
tion for them than the grave philosophy of the Porch ; and
the legend supposed to be graven on the statue of Sardana-
pal.us, at the neighbour city of Anchiale, " let us eat and
drink, for to morrow we die," which Paul quotes in 1 Cor.
XV. 32, might have been the motto of the mass of the
townsmen.-^ At Tarsus the emperor Tacitus died, and
Julian was buried. The city was deserted and lay waste
during the frontier war's of Greeks and Arabs in the first
century of Islam'; a. Moslem general, who saw the ruins,
estimated its former population at 100,000 (Beladhori, p.
169). It was rebuilt and settled as a military colony and
frontier post by H.iriin al-RashiJ in 787 a.m., and became
a starting point of forays against the Christians. On such
a campaign the caliph Jla'mun died, and was buried at
Tarsus (833), having caught a fever, like Alexander the
Great, by bathing in the cold Cilician waters. Tarsus
W.1S temporarily recovered to Christendom by Nicephorus
Pliocas, and again by the crusaders under Baldwin.
Finally it remained in the hands of the Turks.
The Heracles of Tarsus was the Cilician god Sandan. Dio
Chrysostom calls him the ap-jcnyis of the Tarsians (ii. 23), and
he may be identified wlili the B.ial of Tarsus named on the coins
already spoken of. He was woii>hi]'ped by the periodical erection
of "a very fair p\rc" {tOi'i.), a rite presumably analogous to that
described in the Dc Den Sijria, eh. 49 ; and the remarkable ruin of
Dbniik-tasli, a vast court with massive walls enclosing two lofty
platforms .of concrete, probably marks the site of his sanctuary
(SCO Perrot and Chipiez, Hist, de I'Arl, iv. 536 .s^. , and Langlois,
VoTiage dans la Ctticic, p. 2G5 sq.). A tradition making Sandan
the founder of Tai-sus is given by Ammianus (xiv, 8. 3); and, as
the Greeks appear to have taken elements of the myth of Sandan
(iHclading tlie pyiv) into tiieir legend of Sardanapalus, this
explains the current story that Sardanapalus founded Anchiale
and Tarsus iu one day (Ariian, ii. 5, 2 ; Athen., xii. p. 529 sq).
On Sandan, sec K. O. Midler, in PJieiH. Mus., 1829, and E. Meyer,
in 2. D. M. G., 1877, p. 736 sq. Another account in Ammianus
makes Perseus the founder of Tarsus, and it appears from Dio Chr.
that he was almost or quite as much* honoured. The footprint of
Pegasus was shown at Tarsus (Avienus, 1031 sq. ; comp. Dio, U. 24),
and his rapc-ifs (wing?) was said to have fallen there (AJex. Polyh."
ill Steph. Byz., s.v.). This worship reappears at Joppa. . Apollo
'* with the trident" had a sacred sword at Tai3Q9, which could be
cleansed only by the water of the Cydnus (Plut,Z'i!/'- Orac., 41), and
is probably ths Kume as inc harpt shown on-'coins of Hadrian's
time; if so, he is-; presumably a dilfcrentiated form of PerseuS;
.^ To Strabo's U.-it rtust be added Zeno, the successor of Cbrysippus.
' Luciari, Jt/a<;ro!i.,'21, makes him a Stoic, and teacher of Tib«rius.
^ Atheniens, V. p. 215^ tells of an Epicurean phdbsopher, Lysia^,
wh.i, liecoming,pnest;of Heracles, became tyrant oi, the city, taxing
the rich to provide largesses for the poor. The fact is probable, th*
date quite uoosrtain.
68
T A R -T A R
Tbe worship of Athena may be coimected with the statement of
Athenodonis (the famous pmlosopher of Tarsus) that the ancient
name of the city was Parthenia (J^. Hist. Gt , iii. 437); Abydenus
.in Ensb., Chrcnu, p. 36, ed. Schbne) ascribes the foundation of her
temple with its brazen columns and of the city itself to Sennacherib.
Thus with the Baal of Tyre there was worshipped an unmarried
goddess, as In so many shrines of Syria and Asia Minor Dio Chr.,
ii. -2, speaks also of Titans as lords of the city. The reference is to
Japetus (Japheti), grandfather of Cydnus (Athenodorus, ul svp.).
TARTAGLIA, NiccolO (c 15Q0-1557), a self-taught
mathematician, was born at Brescia about 1500 His
father, Michele Fontana, was a postal messenger between
Brescia and the neighbouring towns, who, dying m 1506,
left two sons and a daughter to the care of their penniless
mother Niccol6's childhood was accordingly passed under
the stress of dire poverty, and was marked by a cruel
misfortune. Dunng the sack of Brescia in 1512 he was,
•m the cathedral where he had vainly sought a refuge,
horribly mutilated ty some infuriated French soldiers.
His skull was laid open in three places, his palate cloven,
both jawbones fractured. Yet he recovered vnth no
further assistance than his mother's patient care He,
however, long continued to stammer in his speech, whence
the nickname, adopted by himself, of "Tartagha. His
education remains a mystery Save lor the barest rudi-
ments of reading and writing, he tells ub that he had no
master, yet we find him at Verona in 1521 an esteemed
teacher of mathematics. In 1534 he transferred his
residence to Venice, and was there met by A.ntonio del
Fiore with a challenge to one of the intellectual dnels
then customary Del Fiore relied on his possession of an
undivulgsd formula by Scipione del Ferro for the solution
of a particular case of cubic equations. But Tartaglia had
attained in 1530 a similar result, which he now, in Feb
■ ruary 1535, greatly extended. His consequent triumph
over his adversary gave him a high reputation, and bis
house became the resort of the learned of all grades and
nations. The mystery in which he chose to shroud his
method of dealing with cubic equations promised him a
highly effective weapon in future contests, as well as
leisure to perfect, before publishing, the coveted rules.
But in 1539 Cardan enticed him to Milan, and there, by
unremitting solicitations, procured from hiiu the rude
verses in which be had enshrined his discovery (see
Algebra, vol. i p 513). The Milanese physician's breach
of his oath of secrecy gave rise to a bitter and lifelong
quarrel, the most conspicuous incident in which was a
public disputation at Milan, August 10, 1548, at which
Cardan shrank from appearing In 1548 Tartaglia ac-
cepted a situation as professor of Euclid at Brescia, but
returned to Venice at the end of eighteen months. -He
died at Venice December 13, 1557 Acrid and emulous
in disposition, he incurred abundant enmities , yet his
honesty, uprightness, and the morality of his life remain
unimpeached. He was keen-witted, diligent, and ingenious,
and by his discoveries in the solution of equations helped
to initiate the rapid progress of modern mathematics
Tartaj^lia's first printed work, entitled Nova Saciuia (Venice,
1537), dealt witii the theory and practice of gunnery, to which his
attention had been drawn in 1531 by the question of a boral)ardier
at Verpiia as to the elevation giving the greatest range He easily
found it to be 45* {true only in vacuo), but failed to demonstrate
the correctness of his intuition ludeed, he oevei shook off the
erroneous ideas of his time regaidiiig the patiis ol projectiles,
further than to see that no |iart of them could he n straiglit line
He nevertheless inaugurated the scientific treatment of the subject,
and his propositions reappeared in most ballistical treiitises down
to Blondel's in 1683 The publication of the Nova Scwuliu was
determined by the menacing attitude of Soliman II Unless lu
the interests of Chnstendoin. Tartaglia regarded it as « crime to
promote aiLs of destruction Inquiries rendered lawful by necessity
were, however, resumed in his Qnrsil.i f,t Invrnzionl Diverse, n rol-
h'Ctloii of the author's replies to questions addressed to him hy
persons of the most varied conditions, published in l.^clO, with a
iledication to Henry V||I nf England Hroblems in nrtillery
occnpy two ont of nine books ; the sixth treats of fortification , tha
ninth gives several examples of the solution of equations of tha
third degree. His last years were full of activity. He published
in 1551 Regola OentraU per sollevare ogni affondata Nave, inlilolata
la Travagliata Inverimone (an allusion to his personal troubles at
Brescia), setting forth a method for raising sunken ships, and
describing the diving-bell, then little known m western Europo.
He pursued the subject m Ragioiiammti sopra la Travagliata
Invenzione (May 1551), adding a table of specific gravities. Of
his largest work, entitled Gsneral TraJialo di Numeri « Miswre,
Two parts appeared at Venice in 1556, the remainmg four post-
humously in 1560. This is a comprehensive mathematical treatise,
including arithmetic, geometry, mensuration, and algebra as far as
quadratic equations. He designed to embody the results of his
original investigations in a separate form ; but his Algebra Nova
remained unwritten. He published the first Italian translation of
Euclid (1543) and the earliest version from the Greek of some of
the principal works of Archimedes ( 1 543). These included the tract
De Insidentibus Aqux, of which his Latin now holds the place
of the lost Greek text. An Italian version of it la appended to
his liagionaimnti. Tartaglia was the first Italian writer on forti
fication, and claimed the invention of the gunner's quadrant.
TartAglla's own accouat of Ms early life Ift contained in his Quaici, lib. r1. p
74 See also Blttanti's DUcorto di Niccold Tartaolii, BrescU, 1871; Baoncom-
pagnl, Iniorno ad un Tfitamenlo tnedito di /f Tartaglia, MUac, 16SI ; Ubrl,
Hist, dts Sfiencfi Siatttematitjuti, t. III. p. 149; Montucla, Bill, de* Uath., voL I
p 667 ; Marie, Htst. dci Scimcai, t, 11. p. 242 ; Hankel, Zur QeKh. d. Math. . 1874,
p. 3fiO.- Rossi. £/0(7idi Brfsctani ///uKri, p. 386. Tartajflla'a wrlUncsongaunery
wei-e translated Into Enelish by Lacar In 1588. and into Fiencb by Rleftcl In I84&
Tbo.t. .Salnsbury published (Londnn; I5ti4) an English version of hJs Travagliata
/ncetuwiie, and a selection fioin Ms wrttlnfrs appeared at Venice In 1603 with tiit
title Opere del Pamosisiimo Niccolit Tartaglia, 1 voL 8vo.
Tartan is a worsted cloth woven with alternate
stripes or bands of coloured warp and weft, so as to form
a chequered pattern in which the colours alternate in
•'sets "of definite width and sequence. The weaving of
particoloured and striped cloth cannot be claimed as
peculiar to any special race or country, for indeed such
checks are the simplest ornamental form into which dyed
yarns can be combined in the loom But the term tartan
is specially applied to the variegated cloth used for the
principal portions of the distinctive costume of the High-
landers of Scotland. For this costume, and the tartan of
which It IS composed, great antiquity is claimed, and it i&
asserted that the numerous clans into which the Highland
population were divided had each from time to time a
speoial tartan by which it was distinguished. After the
rebellion of 1 745 various Acts of Parliament were passed
for disarming the Scottish Highlanders and for prohibiting
the use of the Highland dress in Scotland, under severe
penalties These Acts remained nominally in force tiU
1782, when they were formally repealed, and since that
time clan tartan has, with varying fluctuations of fashion,
been a highly popular article of dress, by no means con-
fined in Its use to Scotland alone , and many new and
imaginary " sets " have been invented by manufacturers,
with the result of introducing confusion in the heraldry
of tartans, and of throwing doubt on the reality of the
distinctive "sets" which at one time undoubtedly were
more or less recognized as the badge of various clans.
The manutacture has long been earned on at Banaockburn,
in the neighbourhood of Stirling, and it still continues to
he a feature ot the local industries there
Undoubtedly the term tartan was known, and the matenal was
woven, 'of one or two colours tor the poor and more varied for
the rich.' as early as the middle ot the 15th century. In the
accounts of John, bishop ot Glasgow, treasurer to King James III
in 1471, there occurs, with other mention ot the matenal, the
following — " Ane eine aud ane halve of blue Tartane to lyne his
gowne of cloth of Gold " It is here obvious that the term is not
restricted to particoloured chequered textnrcs. ' lu 1638 accounts
were incurred for a Highland dress for King James V on the
occasion of a hunting excui"sion in the Highlands, in which therv
are charges for "variant cullont velvet," tor "ane schort Helaud
coit," and for ' Helaud tartane to be hose to the kinge's graca"
Bishop Lesley, in his De Ongim:, Moribus, et Rebus Gestis Scotorum.
nnblished in 1578, says of the ancieut and still-used dress of the
Highlanders and islanders, "all, both noble and common Mople,
wore mantles of one sort (except that the nobles preferred those of
several colours)." George Buchanan, in his Rennn. ScoUcarum
' Neither so is it m tbe French ttreUtine or In tbe Spaiusl* txrilafUu
T A R — T A R
69
ffi^oria (15S2), as trarslftted by Slonypenny (1612), says of the
IlighUiulers, "they Jelight in inarlod clothes, specially that have
«ny ons stripes of sundry colours ; they love cniclly purple and
bino; Their prcdecessore uwd short mantles or plaids of divers
colours sundry ways divided ; and amongst sonio the same custom
19 observed to this day." A hint of clan tartan di^tinctions is
given by Martin in his H^cslcrn Jiks of Scotlnyiii (1703), which
work also contains a niinnto description of the dress of the High-
landei-^i and the manufacture of tartan. " Every isle," lie observes,
"dilTci-s from each other in their fancy of making plaids, as to the
stripes in hi-esdlh and coloui-s. This humour is as different throu,i;h
the mainlaml of tho Highlands, in so far that they who have seen
tiiosc places is able at the lirst view of a, man's plaid to guess tho
place of his resilience."
S\C \V. anil A. Snurh, T'li-lnrt* cf Ihe Clans of SfOtrnnif, 1S.'.0; J. Sohicskl
Stuart. Vfttij'-iuin SfotirHin, iM2 : R. It. M'liin, C^ith* e/ the Si-ottish Wylitiimh.
l$4o-|i: : J. Onint. Taitam oflhf Ctnits o/Su'ltnml, Lilinburcli, 1S85.
TARTARIC ACID, in its ordinary acceptation, refers
to one acid, (CjH,0^)H;, which occurs in most acid fruit
juices, in association generally with malic or citric, or both.
Grape-juice owes its sourness almost entirely to acid tartrate
of potash. Wliile the juice ferments into wine, the greater
part of the acid tartrate separates out, along with tartrate
of lime, colouring matter, and other impurities, as a hard
crust adhering to the sides of the cask. Such impure acid
tartrate of potash is known commercially as "argol." It
was known to the Greeks as rpii, to the Romans as fxx
vini: The alchemists from the 11th century called it
tnrtanis, which name has survived in familiar chemical
parlance to this day. The true constitution of larlarus
villi was discovered by Scheele in 1769. He was the first
to isolate the acid from its acid potash s.alt by a method
which is still used for its industrial extraction.
Manxifacture. — Crude tartar (10 to 14 cwts.) is placed
in a tank, and dissolved in sufficient water with the help
of steam. The surplus acid is then neutralized by addi-
tion of powdered chalk, and precipitated as lime salt: —
2(C.H A)KH = (C,H A)Ks + (C,H A)H» ;
nornml shU. acid
(C,H,0J"i + CaC03-(CjHj0^j)Ca+H~0 + C0,
The other half of the tartaric acid which remains dissolved
as normal potash salt is then precipitated in the same
form by addition of chloride of calcium : —
(C.HjO,)K., + CaCU=2KCI + (C,H,06)Ca.
The. tartrate of lime precipitate is collected, washed, and
decomposed by an excess of sulphuric acid at 75* C. : — ,
: (CjHjOs)Ca + Hj.S04=CaSOj + (C4H,Oe)H2.
The sulphate of lime is removed by decanting and filter-
ing, and the acid solution evaporated in leaden pans to a
sufficient degree to deposit crystals on standing in the
cold. The crystals are purified by redissolving them in
hot water, decolorizing the solution with animal charcoal,
and causing the acid to crystallize a' second time after
addition of sulphuric acid, which promotes the formation
of large crystals. The crystals contain a little sulphuric
acid and a trace of lead ; if intended for internal use, they
must be recrystallized from pure water.
Tartaric acid forms hard colourless transparent mono-
clinic prisms of l'76-l spec, grav., easily soluble in cold
and abundantly in hot water. It has a strong but agree-
able sour taste. At 15° C. 100 parts of water dissolve
138 parts of the acid, 100 of alcohol (absolute) 20 4, and
100 of ether 0'39. It fuses at 135° C. and passes into
an amorphous modification known as meta-tartaric acid ;
when heated more strongly it loses water, and passes into
the forms of anhydrides. At high temperatures it is
decomposed with formation of charcoal and volatile pro-
ducts, which smell pretty much like those formed from
sugar in the same circumstances. Mo.^t oxidizing agents
produce formic from the aqueous acid. Boiling with oxide
of silver and excess of caustic alkali produces oxalate.
Tartaric acid is used largely in calico printing as a
discharge. In pharmacy and households it serves, con-
jointly with bicarbonate of soda or potash, for the extem-
poraneous-preparation of efltervescing drinks. The so-
called German effervescing powders are a combination of
vveighed-out doses of tartaric acid and of bicarbonato of
soda. In the so-called " scltzogenes " (glass apparatus in
which carbonic acid is produced in one compartment, to be
forced by its own pressure into a mass of water, vino. ,^-c.,'
in the other) the gas is similarly produced.
Tnr(ra(c-s.— Tlionf«;io/n.rfiOT«, (CjHjOJHK, "cream of tartar, "_
is prcp.Trcd from crtidc tartar (argol) hy dissolving it in lint water,''
filtering olf \\'liat remains of tartrate of lime and other impurities,'
and allowing the filtrate to crystallize. Tlic crystals arc generally'
contaminated with a little of the lime-salt, lor the removal of
which the best melhoil is to treat the powdered crystals with
cold dilute liydrocliloiic aci'l and then wash them with coM water
by displ.acement. Tho lime passes into the filtrate. Cream of
tartar iorms small colourless hard crystals which dissolve in al>out
200 parts of cold and in 15 parts of boiling water. In alcohol the
salt is even Ic^s soluble than in water.'
The iiormnl (neutral) potash sail, (CjIIjO^iK, -^ JHoO, is prepared
by dissolving powdered creatn of tai t.ar in hot solution of cnibonntc
of potash until a neutral or slightly alkaline solution is produced.
Tho salt, being extremely solulilc in water, does not crystallize
very readily. In former times the carbonate of potash required
used to be made by igniting one half of the cream of tartar to be
0]>cratcd upon in a crucible. Hence the name of Utrtarus totaris-
aliis, whicli is still familiar in pharm.acy. The salt is used medi-'
cinally, and also for removing free acid from excessively sour wine
by formation of relatively insoluble bitartrate (Liebig's method).
Itochclk sntl, (C^H40|;)KNa-(- 4H;0, is prepared by not ([uite
neutralizing hot solution of carbonate of soda with powdered
cream of tartar. The (filtered) hot solution deposits on cooling
magnificent crystals, readily soluble in water, though less so than
the iiumixcd potash salt. Roehelle salt is used as a mild purgative.
The so-called Seidlitz powders arc clfervescing powders with a con-
siderable addition of Roehelle salt to the bicarbonate.
The normal tartrates of lime, baryta, &c., arc insoluble precipi-
tates producible by double dei:oinpositions.
Tartar emetic, (C,l-l,0,.)K(SbO) -fiHaO, is produced by boiling
4 parts of o.\ide of antimony, Sb.^Og, and 5 of jtowdered cream of
tartar with 50 of water for about an hour. The filtered solution,!
on cooling, deposits crystals of the above comjrosition soluble in
15 parts of cold and 2'8 of boiling hot water. The crystals gene-
rally exhibit the appearance of tctrahedra; yet they are rhombic
pri'iiiis combined with pyramids. The process going on in the
formation of the salt is easily understood if we remember that
SbjOs often acts on aqueous acids as if it were tho monoxide,
(SbO).O, of a radical (SbO) antimony!. (SbO),0 -t- H,0 is eqni-
valent to 2(SbO)OH, and
(CjH,Os)KH-HOH(SbO) = H20-H(CjH40j)K(SbO).
Tartar emetic has long had a standing in medicine. In doses of
1-3 grains it acts as a powerful emetic ; very small doses (,', to -j^
grain) induce perspiration. Large doses produce poisonous effects.
Analysis. — Tartaric acid is characterized chiefly by the relative
insolubility of its acid potash salt. To produce it from a solution
of a neutral tartrate, add acetic acid and acetate of potash, and
stir vigorously; the salt gradually separates out as a crystalline
precipitate. Neutral tartrate solutions, with chloride of calcium,
give a precipitate of tartrate of lime, which is at first amorphous,
and in this condition dissolves pretty readily in excess of reagent -
or tartrate, but in general re-separates in the crystalline form (the ■
undissolved tartrate likewise becomes crystalline) on standing.
Anhtjrlrides.~-TaTts.uc acid, when kept at 135°, fuses and becomes
meta-tartaric acid without change of weight, and on continued appli-
cation of 140-150° C, ditartrylic acid, CgH,jO„-2CjHj05 - H,0;
and at 180° tartrelic acid, C8HeOi|, = 2C4HsOj- iH^O, is pioduccd.
All these three acids form salts of^ their own, which, however, tend
to become tartrates in the presence of water. At ISO° real tartaric
anhydride (like tartrelic, CjHjOk, — 2CjHj05) is produced, in addi-
tion to tartrelic acid, as an infusible yellowish mass, insoluble in
water and in ether. By continued contact with water it is con-^
verted finally into tartaric acid solution.
Isomeric Modijicalioiis. — Among these raccmic acid has long been.,
known as an occasional bye-product in the manufacture of tartaric-
acid. It used to be believed that lacemic acid is present ready-
formed in certain grape-jnices, and thus comes to make it.s appear-;
ance occasionallytbut it is well known now that the bulk of it at",
any rate is protluced from what was originally tartaric acid, by thfcs
continued action of high temperatures and water. Raccmic acid is
almost identical with tartaric acid ; the only purely chemical point
of difference is that corresponding salts of tho two acids often
crystallize witTi different proportions of water. The two acids,
however, are easily distinguislicd by their action on polarized light
(see PoLAKixy, vol. xix. p. 314). A solution of tartaric acid turns
the plane of polarization to the right ; racemic acid is, in this sense.
70
^,^n,.a1W inactive These long known facts led Pasteur to the
d^»'"rVrtrt.ue Stions^f the t.'O acids If the double
uisco\cry oi i -vtjNH 1 is allowed to crystallize slowly, two
S ■ir^s"a\?ire rro'd'uced. both bearing Vemiedric faces, but
J fferingfrom each other in the situation of these, exactly as tie
ri"ht hand d.R-ers from the left. Pasteur separated the two kinds
of crystal, and found that one kind is identical with the ordinary
"dextro) tar-rate of soda and ammonia, while the other contains a
,new kind of taruric acid, which he called Uevo-tartano acid because
"uurus the plane of polarization to the left. Equ.al weights ol he
l^-o acids when dissolved separately in water and mixed, unite.
!rith percept ble evolution of heat, into optically neutral racem.c
""* "^^c'emic .cid. then, is tevo- ^nll dext^-UrUric um.cd
T A R — T A R
acid Kaceraic acui, men, 13 ife.u- ....v. -^ ■ . ,,
nooselv) into one molecule. There are a number ot optically
Kve tartaric acids, not susceptible of decomposition in he
sense in winch racemic acid IS. ■ 1
TART'VIvS (more correctly Tatars, but Tartars is the
form generally current), a name given to nearly tlirce
million inhabitants ot the Russian empire, chiefly Moslem
and of Turkish origin. Tlie majority-in European
Russia— are remnants of the Mongol invasion of the Uth
century (see Mongols), ^vhile those «-ho inhabit Siberia
are survivals of the once much more numerous Turki^U
iiopulation of the Ural-Altaic region, mi-xed to some
■extent uith Finnish and Samoyedic stems, as also ^vlth
Moncols. The name is derived from that of the ia-ta
Mongols, who in the 5lh century inhabited the north-
easteni Gobi, and, after subjugation in the 9th century by
the Tungus Kidaiis, migrated southward, there foimding
the Mongolian empire under Jexghiz Khan (y.f.). Under
the leadership of his grandson (Batu) they moved west-
wards, driving with them many stems of the Turkish Ural-
Altaians towards the plains of Russia. The ethnographical
features of the present Tartar inhabitants of European
Russia, as well as their language, show that they contain
no admixture (or very little) of Jlongolian blood, but
belon.' to the Turkish branch ot the Ural-Altaic stock,
neces.°itatinc the conclusion that only Batu, his warriors,
and a limited number of his followers were Mongolians,
while the great bulk of the 13th-century invaders were
Turks On the Volga they mingled with remnants of the
old Bulo-arian Turkish empire, and elsewhere with Finnish
stems as well as with remnants of the ancient Italian and
'Greek colonies in Crimea and Caucasians in Caucasus.
The name ot Tatars, or Tartars, given to the invaders was
afterwards extended so as to include diflcrent stems of the
same Turkish branth in Siberia, and even the bulk of the
then little known inhabitants of the high plateau of Asia
and its north-western slopes, which was described under
the general name of Tartary. This last name has almost
disappeared from geographical literature, but the name
Tartars, in the above limited sense, remains in full use.
' The present Tartar inhabitants of the Kussian empire form three
lai-f-e "roups, -those of Enropean Russia and Polan.l those ol
•CaScasus, and those of Siberia. The discrimination ol the separate
stems included under the name is still far lioni completion. The
following subdivisions, however, may be regarded as established.
(1) The Kazan Tartars, descendants of the Ki).tchaks settled on the
Volca in the 13th century, where they mingled with survivors of
the Bulgar Turks and partly with Fnn.ish stems. They number
about half a millionju the government ol Kazan, .about lUO 000 in
each of the gnvernments of Ufa, Samara, aud Simbii>k, Mi.d about
300 000 in Vvatka, Saratoll', Taml.olV, Penza, Nl,pll•^ovgoro(l,
Perm and Orciibuig; some 15,000 belonging to the same stem have
.miTa'tCil tc KVazafi, 01 have been settled as prisoners in the loth
* and 17th centuries in Lithuania (Vilna, Groduo and 1 odolia)-, and
there are some 200(1 j„ St IVl. isbn,g. n IVlnml ihey eonslUnte
I per rent, ot the population of ll.c district of Pt.H-k. 1 be Ka/aiS
Tartars spe.ak a pure Turkish dialect ; they arc ,nid>Vesi/.e.l broad-
shouldered, and itrong, and n.ostly have black eyes, a str.iight nose,
and salient cheek bones. They arc Mohammedans; poly,L,;ani.Y is
practised only by the wealthier classes and is a w;aning institution,
kscellent agriculturists and g.ardeners, very laborious, and hav'nt'.a
Rood repntatiou for honesty, they live 011 the best terms with their
Ku.«ian peasant neighbours. It may be added that, according to
M YuferolV i£t,idc iilm. sitr Ics DaMirs, 1S81), those Bashkirs who
live between the Kama, Ur.al, and Volga are not of Pinnish origin,
but in virtue of their history.' language, anthropological features.
and customs rtust be regardea as Tartars. (2) The Astrakhan M anan
(about 10 000) are, with the Mongol Kalmucks, all that now re-
mains of the once so powerful AstrakhaJi empire, They ah.o are
"r-r" ulturistsand gardeners; while some 12,000 Kundrovsk Tartar,
sun continue the nomadic life of their ancestors. (S) The Crimean
Tartars, who occupied the Crimea In the 13th century have pre-
served the name of their leader, Nogai. During the 15th, 16th,
and 17th centuries they constituted a rich empire, which prospered
until It fell under Turkish rule, when it had to suffer much from
the wars fought between Turkey and Russia f°/ ''jf P°f;f;°'if''
the peninsula The war of 1853 and the laws of 1860-63 and 1S74
causk an exodus of the Crimean Tartars; they abandoned their
admirably irrigated fields and gardens ^nd moved to l>jrkey, so
?lat i,ow^heir° number falls below 100,000. Th<)se of the souUi
coast mixed with Greeks and Italians, are well known for thei
skill n gardening, their honesty, and their laborious habits as well
as for their fine features, presenting the Tartar type at its best
The mountain Tartars closely resemble those of Caucasus, while
those of the steppes-thc Nogais-are decidedly of a mixed origin
from Turks and Mongolians. ,.,... . ., .
Tlie Tartars ol Caucasus, who inhabit the upjier Kuban, the steppes
of the lower Kuma and the Kur,i, and the Araxes, number about
1 350 000 Of these (4) the Nogais on the Kuma show traces ol
ail intimatfe mixture with Kalmucks. They are nomads, supporting
themselves by cattle-breeding and fishing; ew are ap-jcul "rists^
(5) The Karatchais (18,500) in the upper valleys about Ebuiz live
by agriculture. (6) Th^ mountain Tartars (about 850,000), divided
i.fto many tribes and of an origin ^f" ""''^■''•™""^''i."»k 'na'h
throu'-hoiit the provinces of H.aku, Envan, Tiflis, Kutais, Dagh-
an,°and partly also of Balum, They are certainly of a mixed
origin, and present a variety of ethnological types, a 1 he mce 0
as all who are neither Armenians nor Russians, "0^ ''«'°'lg/° ?,"y
d stinct Caucasian tribe, are often ea led Tartars. As a rule th y
are well built and little behind their Caucasian brethien. They
are celebrated for their excellence as gardeners, agriculturists cattle-
tenders and artisans. Although most fervent Shiites they areon
le ygo'od terms both with th?ir Smmite and with their Russian
Iieigirbours. Polygamy is rare with them, and their womeu^go to
" The P^bei'iau Tartars, mostly mixed with Fiimish sterns are the'
most difficult to classify. They occupy three d'^t"";' "S^^f '"^
strip running west to east fioni Tobolsk to Tomsk the Altai and
ft 'spirs. ami South Yeniseisk. They originated m he »gSlo-
me.'tions of Turkish stems which in the region north of the
Alt i succeeded the Ugro-Samoyedic civilization (see Siberia) and
fea::^ed a rehUively h,|h degic^of culture between the 4t,, ami he^
8th centuries, but were subdued and .^"^''■'yf, ^^ '^ "™»°5
In the meantime thejolhjwuijgsubdiv,^^^^^^^^
?i",';t:'o7''th ir ti^slB",^number about 50,000 iu the',
grmTeia of Tobolsk aiu/about 5000 in Tomsk After asti.nuous
Resistance to Russiim conquest, and much suffeiing at a later
pe, od fion, IU ghiz and Kalmuck .-aids they now live by agn.]
c,i ure e ther i°i seirarate villages or along with Russians (8^
TrTJhoynojTchilyni Tartars on the Tcholyin and both the
iV rsyus's^eak a Tuiiish language with --y "°|!f "-^ t'
Yakut words and are more like Mongols than lurUs. In lasij
mit y they l.aid a tribute for 2550 arbaletes, but they now are,
raiX becoming fused with Russians. (9) Tlie Abakan or Mi lU-
si sk Ctars oca 1 ied the steppes oil the Abakan and \ us in the,
1 ttcin my X\he withdr,'ial of the Kirghizes, and r^^^^^^^^
mixture with Koibals (whom Castieu cousidei-s as partly o Ostiak
/^r,,,arT, .11 d /,^'//^'0" ""« So,,, of the Sayan Mountains.
{Mu^socwM. T'eSo "fY ,^°^ „( north-west
aiel reduced now to a li w nuiuii^u f„carlv 20,000 in
-rf'K5l5«f=r?sssiSi
T A R — t A S
71
k«« deengtrcu ty mistake, and who havo nothing in common with
tha Kalmucks escept their dress and mode of life, while they
•peak a Turkish dialect, and {b) the Teleutes, or I'elenghites (5S00),
a remainder of a formerly numerous and warlike nation who hove
migrated from the mountains to the lowlands, where they now
live along with RussL-m peasants.
Finally, there are a number of Tartars in Turkestau and Central
Agifi Without including under this name the Sarts and the
Knramintses of Turkestan, still less the Kirghiz-Kazaks, it may
be reckoned that there are still nearly 30,000 survivors of the
Uigurs in the valley of the Ili, about Kuldja, and in the Khami oasis.
is is evident from the above, altUough the name Tartare
originated in an indiscriminate application of the word to the
Turkish and Mongolian stems which invaded Europe six centuries
ago, and its gradual extensioo to the Turkish stems mixed with
Mongolian or Finnish blood in Siberia, it still represents an aggre-
gate of characters which warrant at least a provisional use of this
fenetic name, if those to whom it is given are properly subdivided,
t embodies stems which, although widely distinct, stiU have some
common ethnoOTaphical and philological features, besides being to
some crtent of like ongin and history
Tbe uterature of tlie stibjeci Is Tery extensive, aad blbliojfraphlcal Indexes
mftj be found In the Gfo-p-apfttcat £Hctt^rtary of P Semenofi. appended to the
ankles devoted respectively lo tlie names given above, as also in tlie yearly
Indcxci by M. Uezltoff- Besides the well-known works of Castren, which are
a very rich source of tnlomiation on the subject, Schiefner (St Petersburg
academy of science), Donner. Ahlq\isl, and other explorers of the Ural-Allalans.
as also those of the Russian historians Solo*ieff, Koslomaroff. BestuzhcfT-Riumin,
SchapofT, and Iloraisbiy, the following containing valuable information may be
mentioned ;— the pubhcationsof the Russian Geogratihical Society and ita brarcties :
the Russian Etnographicf^ikiy Si^mik: the hrfitui of the Moscow society of
the amateurs of natural science: the works of the Rossian ethnographical con-
gresses . KostrofTs researches on the Sibenaii Tartars in the memoirs of the
Siberian branch of the peogr. soc., RadlotTs Hetsf durcft iten Altai, Aus Sittrien\
** Picturesque Russia ' (Jitfpisniiya Rotfipa) ; Semenoff's and Potanin's "Supple-
ments" to Ritter's Asi^n , Ha; Ravi's report 10 the congressat Kazan ; Hartakhai's
'*Hist of Crimean Tatars," in VyeUnit Evropy, 1866 and 1867 ■. "Katchinsk
Tartars." in JiraHa Russ. Otogr Soc., ix., ISM (P A. K.)
TARTARUS, in the lltad (viii. 13 sq., 481), is a dark
ondergTound prison with iron gates, as far below Hades as
earth is below heaven, whither Cronus and the Titans were
thrust down by Zeus (vol. xxi. p. 321), and to which the
sovereign of Olympus threatens to consign other gods who
may disobey his behests. Later writers make Tartarus
the place of punishment of the wicked after death .(Eneas,
in his visit to the abode of the shades, comes to a point
where the road divides, the branch to the right leading to
Elysium and that on the left to the prison-house of
Tartarus, girt about by a triple wall, with the fiery Phlege-
thon as a moat, and guarded by the fury Tisiphone (^n.,
vi. 540 iq.). Tartarus is personified as the son of iEther
and Ge, and father of the giants Typhoeus and Echidna.
TARTINI, Giuseppe (1692-1770), violinist, composer,
and musical theorist, was born at Pirano, April 12, 1692,
and in early life studied, with equal want of success, for
the church, the law courts, and the profession of arms.
His life as a young man was wild and irregular, and his
temper extremely violent and impulsive. His unfitness
for an ecclesiastical career was manifest , and, after failing
in jurisprudence, he crowned his improprieties by clan-
destinely marrying the niece of Cardinal Cornaro, arch-
bishop of Padua. Though the family of Tartini had been
legally ennobled, the cardinal resented the marriage as
a disgraceful mesalliance, and denounced it so violently
that the unhappy bridegroom, thinking his life m danger,
fled for safety to a monastery at Assisi, where, calmed by
the soothing infiuence of the religious life, his character
underwent a complete change. Docile and obedient, as
he had before been passionate and headstrong, he studied
"the theory of music under Padre Boemo, the organist of
the monastery, and, without any assistance whatever,
taught himself to play the violin in so masterly a style
that his performances in the church became the wonder of
the neighbourhood. For more than two years his identity
remained undiscovered, 6ut one day the wind blew aside
a curtain behind which he was playing, and one of his
hearers recognized him and betrayed his retreat to the
cardinal, who, hearing of his changed character, re-
admitted him to favour and restored him to his wife.
Tartini next removed to Venice, where the fine vitilin-
playing of Veracini excited his admiration and prompted
him to repair, by the aid of good instruction, the short-
comings of his own self-taught method. After this he
studied for some time at Ancoua , and here, about 1714, .
he made the curious acoustical discovery on which his fame
as a theorist chiefly rests. He observed that, when two
notes are sounded together on the violin with sufficient in-
tensity, a third sound, distinct from both, is simultaneously
produced. For the production of this ' third sound," as he
called it, Tartini failed to account on strict mathematical
principles. "WTien the two primary notes form an im-
pure consonance, the " third sound " of Tartini (now known
as a difference tone of the first order) is accompanied by
beats due to the presence of different tones of higher
orders, the existence of which, unknown of course to
Tartini, has been established by Helmholtz. Tartini made"
his observations the basis of a theoretical system which
he set forth in his Trattato di itusica, secondo la vera
scifTma dtlV Armoma (Padua, 1754) and Dei Pmiapy
dell' Ai^bnia Musicale (Padua, 1767). In 1721 he re-
turned to Padua, where he was appointed solo violinist at
the chufch of San Antonio From 1723 to 1726 he acted
as conductor of Count Kinsky's private band, but after-
wards returned to his old post at Padua, where he died
on February 16, 1770
Tartini's compositions are very numerous, and faithfully illustrate
his passionate and masterly style of execution, which surpassed
in brilliancy and refined taste that of all his contemporaries. He
frequently headed his pieces with an explanatory poetical motto,
such as " Orabra cara," or "' Volgete il riso in pianto o mie pupille."
Concerning that known as It TrUlo del Diavolo, or The DeviTi
Sonata, he told a curious story to Lalande, in 1766. He dreamed
that the devil had become his slave, and that he one day asked
him if he could play the viohn. The devil replied that he believed
he could pick out a tune, and thereupon he played a sonata bo
exquisite that Tartini thought he had never heard any music to
equal it. On awaking, he tried to note down the composition,
but succeeded very imperfectly, though the resulting Devil s Sonala
is one of his best and most celebrated productions.
Besides the theoretical works we have mentioned, Tartini wrote
a Trattato delle AppogicUure, postnumously printed, in French,
and an unpublished work, Delk Ragioni e delle Praporziatii, the
MS. of which has been lost.
TARUDANT. See Morocco, vol. xvi. p. 834.
TASHKEND, or Tashkent, one of the largest and
most important cities of Central Asia, now the capital of
Russian Turkestan, is situated in the valley of the Tchir
tchik, some 50 miles above its junction with the Syr-Dana,
in 41* 20' N. lat. and 69° 18' E. long. The city, formerly
enclosed by walls which are now ruinous, is surrounded
by rich gardens, and its houses are buned among the
fruit and other trees which grow all along the number-
less ramifications of the irrigation canais. The buildings,
which are of stone and sun-dried bricks, are mostly low,
on account of the earthquakes which frequently disturb
the region. Like all old cities of Asia, Tashkend is sub-
divided into sections [yurts), which are characterized by
the special trades carried on m each Asiatic Tashkend
in 1871 had 78,130 inhabitants, mostly Sarts (75,176),
with a few Uzbegs, Kirghizes, Jews, Russians, and Ger-
mans. A depression in the south-east is occupied by Rus-
sian Tashkend, dating from 1865, which has clean, broad
streets lined with poplars, the low nice-looking houses
being surrounded by gardens. In 1875 its population,
exclusive of the military, was 4860, mostly Russians. It
has a public library containing a rich collection ot works
on Central Asia, an observatory, a museum, two gymnasia,
a seminary, and the buildings occupied by the administra-
tion. A branch of the Russian Geographical Society has
been opened at Tashkend, and its publications, as also those
of the statistical committee and the Turkestan Gazette,
contain most valuable information about Turkestan. Ac-
cording to the most receut estimates, the population of
72
T A S — T A S
Tashkend, with its suburbs, is reckoned at 100,000. lu
consequence of the chequered history of the town (see
PoRKESTAu), few old buildings have been preserved, and
only the madrasah Ijeklar Bek, with its fifty students, and
the graves of Sheikh Zenedjin-baba and Zenghi-ata are
worthy of mention. The former is four centuries old, and
that of Zenghi-ata, a saint held in high veneration through-
out Central Asia, yearly attracts thousands of jjilgrims.
A variety of petty trades are carried on in numerous uniall work-
shops,— weaving and dyeing of cottons and the manufacture of small
brass and iron wares, of harness, and especially of boots, being the
chief. Most of the inhabitants are also engaged in raising corn,
rice, oij-plants, cotton, wine, and lucerne, and in gardening. The
trade of Tashkend has lost its former importance, but corn, cattle,
silk, cotton, and fruits are still exported, and all kinds of inanu-
factured wares arc iniiiorted from the countries to the .south.
TASMAN, Abel Janszen {c. 1G02-1659), a dis-
tinguished Dutch navigator, born at Hoorn, North Hol-
land, probably in IG02 or 1G03. He is known to have
made two important voyages of discovery in the Pacific
and Southern Oceans , only of the second of them have
we a full account. In June 1G39 Tasman, along with
Matthew Quast, was despatched by Van Diemen, governor-
general of the Dutch East Indies, on a voyage to the
Western Pacific, which was first directed to the Philippine
Islands; part of the coast of Luzon was explored. Sailing
east and north Tasman and Quast touched at several of
Ihe Bonin Islands, which they were probably the first to
discover Sailing still farther north, in quest of what
were then known as the " islands of gold and silver," they
reached the latitude of 38° 40' N., about 600 miles east
of Japan, and continued cast for other 300 miles on the
parallel without discovjring anything On October 15
the navigators decided to return, and, after toiuliiiig at
Japan, anchored at Taiwan-fu, Formosa, No\cnibur 21.
After this, Tasman was engaged in operations in the
Indian seas until 1G42, when he set cut on his first great
ex[>edition.' Several Dutch navigators had already dis-
covered various portions of the west coast of Ai^stralia,
and the Dutch East India Company wore anxious to
obtain a more accurate and extended survey of that land.
Sailing from Batavia on August 14, 1642, with two
vessels, the "Hcrmskirk" and "Zeehaan," Tasman on
November 24 sighted the land to which he gave the name
of Van Diemen, in honour of the governor-general, but
which is now named Tasmania. He doubled the land,
which he evidently did not know was an island, and, run-
ning up Storm Bay, anchored on December I iu the bay to
which lie gave the name of Frederick Henry. There he
set up a post on which he hoisted the Dutch flag. Quit-
ting Van Diemen's Land on December 5, Tasman steered
eastwards with a vague idea of reaching the Solomon
Islands, and on December 13 he discovered a "high
mountainous country," which he called " Staaterdand "
(New Zealand). Cruising along the west coast of the
South Island, he anchored on the 18th in 40° 50' S. lat.,
at the entrance of a " wide opening," which he took to be
a " fine bay," but which was no doubt" Cook's Strait. He
gave the name of Mcordenaars (Mas.^cre) Bay to the
bay, at which he attempted to land, and where several
of his men were killed by the natives. Leaving New
Zealand, and pursuing an irregularly north direction, but
never coining in sight of Australia, he discovered, on
January 21, 1643, two islands belonging to the Friendly
group, to which he gave the names of Middelburg (Eova)
and Amsterdam (Tongatabu). After discovering several
Other islands in the Friendly group and their neighbour-
hood, Tasman steered north and west, reaching the neigh-
bourhood of New Britain on March 22. On the 24th he
' See Siebold's paper in Le MoniUur da Jiidti-Orientala ct
OcctdtnlaUi, 1848-i8. i>t i. p. 390
passed Morghen Islands, and, sailing roui...
and along the north coast of New Guinea, ^e clea
the straits between New Guinea and Jilolo, arriving at
Batavia on June 15, after a ten months' voyige.^ The
materials for an account of Tasman's important second
voyage in 1644 are extremely scanty; they consist of
Tasman's own chart and some fragmentary notes by
Burgomaster VVitscn in his work (1705) on the migrations
of the human race (translated in Dalrymple's collection).
Further information as to authorities' will be found in Mr
R. H. Major's Hakluyt Society volume on Early Voyages
to Australia, where also will be found the "Instructions "
given to Tasman for his voyage to New Guinea. He is
instructed to obtain a thorough knowledge of Staten
and Van Diemen's Land, and '• whether New Guinea ia
a continent with the great Zuidland, or separated by
channels and islands," and also "whether the new Van
Diemen's Land is the same continent with these two great
countries or with one of them." In this voyage Tasman
had three vessels under his command. His discoveries were
confined to the north and north-west coasts of Australia,
and his chart gives the soundings for the whole of this
line of coast. He discovered the Gulf of Carpentaria, and
established the continuity of the north-west coast of the
land designated generally " the great known south con-
tinent," as far south as about the 22d degree. The
fullest details as to maps of the voyage and other
authorities will be found in Mr Major's Hakluyt Society
volume referred to above. Tasman rightly ranks as one
of the greatest navigators of the 17th century. He died
at Batavia in October 1659.
For personal details, see paper on Tasman by Ch. M. Dozy in
Utjdragcn tot dc Taat-, Land-, en Volkenkunde van ^ederlandsch-
Indie, 5th series, vol. ii. p. 308.
TASMANIA, formerly Van Diemen's Land, is a com- Pl»w t
pact island, forming a British colony, wdiich lies to the
south of Australia, in the Southern Ocean. It has an area
of 24,600 square miles (about three-fourths of the size
of Ireland), and some fifty islets belong to it. Most of
these lie between it ai>d the' southern shore of Victoria,
in Bass's Strait. It is a land of mountain and flood, with
picturesque scenery. The centre is a mass of hills, gene-
rally covered with forest, with large lakes nearly 4000 feet
above the sea ; and this high land is continued to the west
and north-west, while southward are other elevations. Ben
Lomond in the east rises to a height of 5020 feet ; in the
north-west are Dry's BluflF (4257 feet) and Quamby (4000) ;
while westward are Cradle (5069), Hugel (4700), French-
man's Cap (4760), and Bischoff (2500). Wellington, near
Hobart, is 4170 feet. Among the rivers flowing northward
to Bass's Strait are the Tamar, Inglis, Cam, Emu, Blyth,
Forth, Don, Mersey, Piper, and Ringarooraa. The Mac-
qnarie, receiving the Elizabeth and Lake, falls into the
South Esk, which unites with the North Esk to form the
Tamar at Launceston. Westward, falling into the .ocean,
are the Hellyer, Artljur, and Pieman. .The King and
Gordon gain Macquarfc Harbour ; the Davey and Spring,
Port Davey. The central and southern districts are drained
by the Derwent from Lake St Clair^ — its tributaries being
the Nive, Dee, Clyde, Ouse, and Jordan. The Huon falls
into D'Entrecasteaux Channel. The chief mountain lakes.
- The best English translation of Tasman's Journal is in Buiney'l
Collection, vol. iii. The Dutch original was published at AmsterdaW
in 1860, edited by Jacob Sw^rt, and contains the chart of the second
voyage.
• The subject 19 thoroughly discussed by P H. L«ape in th»
Bijdragen van ket kon. Inst, vovr Taat-, Land; en Volkenkunde v,
d. Ind. Archipcl, ser. i. pt. iv. up. 123-140 , in JSijd. mor Voder-
Inndsche Geschiedenis en Oudhtid Kunde, 'by H. Fruin, new series,
pt. vii. ]• 254 ; and in the same writer's work De Rctzen dcr yedfr*
landers naar A'lcuw Ouihm (The Hague, 1S75) ; also Col. A. Higa^
^Hederlaiidsch i\'ievvi Ouintn (The Hague, 18S4).
hub
the ~
hr
TASMANIA
73
arc the Great Lake (50 miles in circuit), Sorell, St Clair,
Ciescent, and Echo. The colony is divided into eighteen
counties. The princi^ial towns are llobart, the capital, on
the Derwent, with a population of 21,118 in ISSl (25,041
in 18S6), ai\d Launceston (12,752 in ISSl ; 19,379 in
1886), at the head of the Tamar. The rugged western
half of the island has only a few small settlements, while
the eastern country is increasing in population on account
of the mines.
Climate. — This small colony has a far greater range of
climate than can be experienced throughout the Australian
continent. The eastern side is dry ; the western is very
wet. Tin and gold minors are partially arrested in their
work during summer from want of water in the northeast.
Dense forests and impracticable scrubs result in the west
from deposition of a hundred or more inches of rain in the
year, while other -parts to the cast occasionally suffer from
drought. Tasmania docs not escape the summer visit of an
Australian hot wind. Hobart and Launceston, being near
the sea, have greater equability of temperature, with rare
frosts. The mean temperature of Hobart is 5-1°, of Waratah
in the north-west 44°. Hobart averages 22 inches of rain,
less than Jfelbourne, Sydney, and Brisbane. Inland, in
the settled part.*, cold is severe in winter, but only for a
sbort period. The wooded north-west shore has no cold
and no excessive heat, but plenty of showers. Up in the
lake country tlio climate rather resembles the Highlands
of Scotland. On the west and southern coasts the winds
are usually strong, and often tempestuous.
t Like New Zealand,Tasmania is very healtliy. No miasma
is retained in its forests. Rheumatism and colds may pre-
vail, but little fever or dysentery occurs. Perhaps no part
of the world can show relatively so many aged people.
Children generally display the robustness of English village
life. As a retreat for Australians, Tasmania in the summer
has strong claims. Cool and strengthening airs, magnifi-
cent forest solitudes, and secluded fern-tree vales may be
enjoyed along with all the comforts of modern civilization.
^ Geolo'jy. — The comparatively recent conne.xion of Tas-
mania with Victoria is evidenced not less by rocks than by
flora and fauna. The granitic islands of Bass's Strait are
as so many stepping-stones across, a depression having con-
verted the loftier districts into islands. The want of simi-
larity, however, between the tufted-haired Tasmanians and
their Australian neighbours would indicate that the dis-
ruption took place before the advent of the younger race
on the northern side. While doubts e.\ist as to the pres-
ence of rocks older than the Silurian, a Palaeozoic floor
exists north, east, south, and west, though often thrown up
into irregular ranges, sometimes over 5000 feet, by igneous
irruptions. Convulsions have distinguished the history of
the little island from one end to the other. Not only is
granite in all its varieties very prevalent, but' there is an
immense amount of mctamorphism in different directions.
Then, at another period, not merely porphyries, but basalts
and greenstones, were widespread in their ravages. They
consumed or deranged beds of coal, and overflowed enor-
mous tracts. Earthquakes were busy, and tremendous
deluges denuded great areas to depths of thousands of feet,
leaving mountains of Primary rock, with peaked or plateau
summits of basalt or greenstone. There are prismatic
walls several hundreds of feet in height, and 4000 feet
above the sea-level, as at Mount Wellington, looking down
upon " ploughed -fields "of greenstone blocks. Still, unlike
Victoria, there are not the extinct craters to tell the tale
of more modern lava flows. The lake district, up to over
4000 feet, is a tangled mass of granitic and metamorphic
rocks. Quartz is so common a feature that the western
stormbound cliffs reflect a white light to passing ships;
while luica, taicose, dolerite, and siliceous schists are
common over the island. Contorted slate and the tessel-
ated pavement of Tasman's Penin.sula are effects of that
transmuting period. Granite is strong at eastern and
northern points, at western localities, in the interior, and
in the straits. Greenstone is exhibited southward in enor-
mous field.*, as well as in the western and lake districts,
and alternates often with basalt. Silicified trees are seen
standing upright in the floor of igneous rock. The Prim-
ary rocks have more casts of former life than fossils in
ordinary condition. The Hobart clay-slate abounds in
Fciiesltl/ii or lace coral, and trilobites occur in limestone.
Slate is abundant on the north-we.st coast, tlie South Esk,
and westward. New Red Sandstone near llobart is marked
by the presence of salt-beds. The Carboniferous forma-
tions are not much exhibited on the western half of the
iiland, but are prominent along the Mersey and other
northern rivers. The southern fields are torn by igneous
invaders. Anthracitic forms are conspicuous on Tasman's
Peninsula. Inland, on the eastern side, the formations
spread from near Hobart northward for scores of miles,
and even to a thousand feet in thickness. The Fingal
and' Ben Lomond north-eastern districts are remarkably
favoured with Carboniferous sandstones and crinoidal
limestones, bearing excellent scams, and like strata are
noticed in islands off the cast coast. Carbonaceous non-
coal-bearing beds by the Mersey are 500 feet thick.
Tertiary rocks are not extensive, save in the breccia and
coarse sandstone south of Launceston, over Norfolk plains,
and along some river valleys. Alluvial gold deposits belong
mainly to the Pliocene formations, — the ancient Primaries
containing the auriferous quartz veins. Greenstone and
basalt belong to various^periods, the latter being specially
apparent in the Tertiary epoch. Travertine, near IJobart
and Richmond, is from freshwater action. The Pleistocene
development was characterized by overwhelming denuding
forces. Raised beaches are noticed along .some of the
larger rivers, and westerly moraines would imply a greater
elevation of the country formerly. Caves and recent beds
exhibit marsupial forms analogous to existing ones. Not
far from Deloraine are limestone caves, with passages two
miles in extent. The density and intricacy of the island
scrubs have interfered with the investigation of its geology.
jl/iiicra/s.— Tasmania has failed to take a very important position
as a gold producer. Still, when tie crushing of 1300 tons in one
mine produced £11,523, adventurers may well be hopeful. From
Benconsfield mine, west of the Tamar, gold was obtained to the
value 01" £615,330 from July 1878 to January 1, 1887. In 1886
there were fire districts under commissioners of mines. Westward,
Kold is found from Arthur river to Point Hibbs ; north-westward,
from Blyth river to Cape Grim. In the north-east are Scottsdale,
Ringar.joma, Mount Victoria, and Waterhousc fields; east, Fingal
and St George river. Arsenic and silver are found with gold in the
north-cast; and iron, arsenic, copper, and lead with it at Beacons-
field. ForlSSS the gold export was 37,498 oz., worth £1-11,319.
Silver occurs at Penguin, Jlount Ramsey, and TrVaratah (Jlount
Bischoff), combined with lead. Coppei- is met with at Mount
Maurice, kc, but not in paying rjuantities. Bismuth at Mount
liamsey is ricb, but the country is difficult to reach. Antimony,
zinc, manganese, copper, plumbago, and galena arc known west of
the Tamar, where also asbestos iu SL-rpeutine hills is plentiful Tin
is well distriliuled in Tasmanian granite. Mount Bischoff, in the
scrubby, rorky, damp west, lias tnc richest lodes; other mines aro
in the north-east and west. In ten years the product came to two
and a half million pounds sterling. Bischoff district in 1885 gave
2871 tons of ore, much being found in huge blocks. Want of
water in the northeast prevents much hydraulic working. An-
thracite coal is pretty abundant at I'orl Artluir. Near Hobait are
workings of poor quality. Around Ben Lomond are bituminous
seams, but difficult of access. Fingal district hxs coal e(pial to
that of Newcastle, with a seam of 14 feet, but carriage is difficult.
Mersey river coal mines yielded 60,000 tons in the course of over a
duzeu years. Iron was worked near the Tamar, but did nut pay,
excess of chromium making it brittle; its steel was very malleable.
All varieties of irou ores are known. Hobart freestone is larg.ly
exported to other colonies. Tasmanite or dysodile in the Mersity
district is an inflammable resinous substance. During 18S4 there
xxin. — 10
74
TASMANIA
•were raised 41,240 02. of gold, 5461 tons of tin, and 5u34 tons of
coal The total export of gold and tin during tlie live years 1S50
to 1S85 was of the value of £2,591,320,— being £642,230 more thai.
for the ten years. preceding. The export of tin averaged 79,CS2 cwt.
Agriculture.— The island has not a large area fit lor cultivation.
A great part is very mountainous ; and dense scrubs, with ^cavy
forests, are impediments to the farmer. The west siJo is too wet,
stormy, and sterile for settlement. Almost all the farms lie in the
line between Hobart and Launceston and between Laimccston and
Circular Head. ThS climate being cooler and nioistcr than in most
parts of Australia, the productions are of an English character,
hops, barley, and oats being freely raised. Cropping land for many
successive years «ith wheat has lessened the produce of what was
fertile country, as little manure had been used. In later times
there has been a great improvement in agriculture. .For some time
Tasmanian growers did well, supplying Australia and New Zealand
with flour, potatoes, and fruit ; but, as their customers became in
their turn producers, the old markets failed in all but apples and
stone fruit. Fresh and preserved fruit, with jams, together with
excellent hops, continue to afford the islanders a good trade. In
1885-86 there were 417,777 acres in cultivation ; in crop, 144,761 ;
in grasses, 181,203. AVheat occupied 30,266 acres, barley 6S33,
oats 29,247, pease 7147, potatoes 11,073, hay 41,693, turnips 36S0,
and gardens and orchards 81 98.'
So large a part of the island is covered mth thicket, rock, and
marsh that it appears le.ss pastoral than eastern Australia. The
total number of sheep in 1SS6 amounted to 1,648,627, the horses
to 28,610, and the cattle to 138,642. Of 16,778,000 acres only
4,403,888 have been sold or granted.
Flora.— This differs but little from that of south-eastern
Australia, with which it was formerly connected; • Over a thousand
species are represented. The eucalypts are gums, stringy bark,
box, peppermint, ironwood, &c. The celebrated blue gum {Euca-
lyptus Globulus), so eagerly sought for pestilential places in southern
Europe, Africa, and America, flourishes best in the southern dis-
tricts of the island. For shipbuilding purposes the timber, which
grows to a large size, is much prized. Acacias are abundant, and
manna trees are very productive. Sassafras (Ath£rosj)cnna t/jos-
chata) is a tall and handsome tree. . Pines are numerous. Tho
Huon pine {Dacrydiu.n atprcssinum), whose satin-like wood is so
sought after, flourishes in Huon and Gordon liver districts. The
celery pine is a Fhyllocladus, and the pencil cedar an Athrotaxis.
The pepper tree is TasTnania frmjrans. The Myrlaccse are noble
trees. The lakes cider tree is Eucalyptus rcsini/cra, whose_ treacle-
like sap was formerly made into a drink by bushmen. Xanthor-
roeas or grass trees throw up a flowering spike. The charming red
flowers of the Tasmanian tulip tree {Tclopca) arc seen from a great
distance on the sides of mountains. Tlie so-called rice plant, with
rice-like' grains on a stalk, is the grass IUcJica. Of Boronia, Epac-
ris, and Orchis there are numerous species. Tlie Bland/ordia, a
Liliaceous plant, has a head of brilliant crimson flowers. Tho
Casuarina, Eiocarpus, £anksia, and tree fern resemble those of
Australia. Tasmanian evergreen forests are very aromatic. At
one time the island had an extensive timber trade with Sydney,
Melbourne, and Adelaide, and it still exports £50,000 to £80,000
worth annually of planks, shingles, paling. Sic
Fauna. — Animal life in Tasmania is similar to that in Australia.
The dingo or dog of the latter is wanting ; and the Tasmanian devil
snd tiger,or wolf, are peculiar to the island. The Marsupials include
the Macropus or kangaroo, Didclphys or opossum, Petaurus or flying
phalanger, Perameles or bandicoot, Hyp^iprymnus or kangaroo rat,
Phascolomys or wombat ; w hile of MonotrcJimla there are the Echidna
or porcupine anteater and the duct-billed platypus. The marsupial
tiger or Tasmanian vioU (Thylacimis cyiiQccphalus), 5 feet long, is
yellowish brown, with several stripes across the back, having short
stirt' hair and very short legs (see vol. .xv. p. 380). Very few of
these nocturnal carnivores are now alive to trouble flocks. The
tiger cat of the colonists, with weasel legs, white spots, and uocttirnal
habits, is a large species of the untameable native cats. The devil
{Dasyurus or Sarcophilus ursinus) is black, with white bands on
neck and haunches. The covering of this savage but cowardly little
night-prowler is a sort of short hair, not fur. The tail is thick, and
the bulldog mouth is formidable. Among the birds of the island
are the eagle, hawk, petrel, owl, finch, peewit, diamond bird, fire-
tail, robin, emu-wren, crow, swallow, magpie, blackcap, goatsucker,
quail, ground dove, jay, parrot, lark, mountain thrush, cuckoo,
wottlebird, whistling duck, honeybird, Cape Barren goose, penguin
duck, waterhen, snipe, albatross, and laughing jackass.^ Snakes
are pretty plentiful m scrubs j the lizards are hannless. Insects,
though similar to Australian ones, are far less troublesome ; many
are to be admired for their great beauty.
Pishcries..^}a the early years of occupation the island was tlie
resort of whalers from the United Kingdom, the United States, and
France. Both sperntaud black oil, with whalebone, were important
articles of export till the retreat of tho whales to other seas. Seal-
ing was carried on successfully for many years in Bass's Strait,
Oiltil the seals were utterly destroyed. There has recently been a
revivalof whaling, the product of the island fishery for 1885 being:
£12,6C9). The bays contain some excellent fish, much esteemed in
the neighbouring colonies, particularly' the trumpeter, found on
the soutlici n side of the island. Of nearly 200 sorts of fishes a third
can be considered good for food. The outer fisheries extend to 16
miles from shoic, being from 20 to 80 fathoms deep. The species
include the trumpeter (Latris, found up to 60 lb weight), the
"salmon " of the old settlers [Arripi£), the flathead {Plcdyccphalus\
ti evilly {Xcptonci)ius), garfish (Ncvdrhamphus), barracouta and
kin^lish (both Tliynitcs). There are thirteen sorts of perch, and
live ol, jieani. The anchovy is migratory. Eng ish macKcrel have
been sien oil the east coast ; and some of the her ings are much liko
the English. Rock cod and bull-kelp cod are favourites. Jlud
oysters arc nearly worked out; artificial oys.er-beds are being
forme.l. English trout {Salmofario) are more Cirtainly found than
the true salmon {Salmo salar) \ the last are douDtful, though num-
bers have been raised in hatcheries on the Derwmt Among fresh-
water fish are a so-called freshwater herring (.Frototroctcs), various
kinds of what the old settlers called trout [Galaxias), blackfish
XOadopsis), and fine perch.
Commerce. — Soon after the colony was foiinded there was a great
trade ir whale oil, as well as in the oil and siiAs of seals. When
this declined, merchants d.d well in the expo-tation of breadstuffs,
fruits, and vegetables to the neighbouring and more recently estab-
lished colonies, not less than to New South Wales. Timber was
also freely sent to places less favoured with forests or too busy
with other employments. When the trade with England in oil
fell off, the export in wool and then of metals succeededl Tasmania-
has now an active commerce with Victoria, tut has a competitor
rather than a customer in New Zealand. The shipping during
1885 was 342,745 tons inward, 335,061 outward. The imports
for that year came to £1,757,486; the exports to £1,313,693. Of
the exports, £1,299,011 were of Tasmanian products and manu-
factures,—including wool, £260,480; tin, £357,687; gold, £141,319;
fruit, £105,363. The banks of the colony at the end of 1885
showed assets £3,754,226 and liabilities £3,814,631. The savings
banks early in 1886 declared £455,774 to the credit of depositors.
Attempts have been recently made to draw Tasmania into closer
commercial and fiscal relations with Victoria,
Manufactures. — Numerous industries are practised, though not
to the extent of exportation, excepting from the working of 28
tanneries, 62 sawmills, 13 breweries, 7 manufactories of jam, and
a rising wool factory.
Hoods and Jiiilways: — No colony, for its area, was ever so
favourjd with excellent roads as Tasmania has been. There, are
now about 5000 miles of good roads. The principal line of railway
is that from Hobart to LauncestoiL ^Altogether, 260 miles of rail-
way were open in 1887.
Post-Office. —In early years letters wefc carried by runners on foot
across the island. In 1SS5 there were 243 post offices, and the
telegraph had 1579 miles of wire. A submarine line connects
Tasm.inia with Victoria.
Ad.ninistration. — The governor is appointed by the British
crown. The legislative council has eighteen members, and the
asseo bly thirty-si.x. The revenue for 1885-86 was £571,396, the
expeiditure £585,766. The public debt, contracted for public
works, amounts to three and a third millijns. The customs pro-
vided £276,100. The oSicial machinery s as extensive as for a
colony with seven or eight times the population.
Education. — At first the state made grants in aid to schools
establishdfl by private persons and religuus denominations, but
ultimoteh, as in Victoria and New Zealand, education was made
secular ai d compulsory, religions teaching being out of school
hours, or dependent on Sunday schools, which are to be found all
over the-jsland. There are 204 public schools maintained out of
a fund 0 £32,793. In eight grammar and collegiate schools a
higher standard of instruction is reached. Thi degree of Associate
of Arts is conferred on deserving scholars in the state schools ; and
exhibitions (up to £200 a year for four years) enable pupils to
study at the higher schools qr colonial or European universities.
No state grant is now made for the support of any religious deno-
mination.
Population. — The whites have entirely displaced the blacks."
Outrages and cruelties led to conflicts; and now the last individual
of the tribes has passed away. There are, however, some half-
castes on islands in the Straits. The coloaists in Tasmania are
more concentrated than in other settlement:. In 1818 there were
2320 men, 432 women, and only 4S9 chililLen. At the census of
1881 the population numbered 115,705 61,162 males, 54,543
females); in 1886 it was estimated at 133,7.91. The births in 1886
averaged 34 6 per thousand, the -deaths 15'2.
ffw/ory,— Tho Dutch navigator Tasman (7. i'.) sighted the island
November 24, 1642, and named it Van Diepcn's Land, after the
Dutch governor of Java. He took possession at Frederick Henry
Bay in the naie of the stadtholdcr of Holland, and then passed
on to '.ho discovery of New Zealand. The French Captain Marion
in 17:2 came to Mows with the natives. Cajitaj'n Cook was at.
T A S — T A S
ys
Adrenmre Bay, to Uit Math, in 1777. His companion, CapUin '
ruroeini. hij entO-CTl the b»y four years previously, assuring t
Cook thit Van Ditmen's Land »-as joineil to New Holland.
Admiral Bruni d'Entrecasteaux, with the naturalist La Billardiire,
entered the Derwtnt, calling it North River, in 1792. Two years
after. Captain Hayes named it Derwent. Mr Bass and Lieutenant
Finders pased through Bass's Strait, and 6rst sailed round the
island, in 179S. The high terms in which they spoke of Sullivan's
cove, at the mouth of the Derwent, afterwards led to the settle-
ment of Hobart there. The French discovery ships, "Geographe"
and " Natnraliste," under Commodore Baudin, were off the coast in
1801-2. The island was settled from Sydney. A small party was
sent to the Derwent, under Lieutenant Bowen, in 1803, and another
to Port Dalryniple next year under Colonel Paterson, who was
removed to tauncestou in 1S06. Captain Collins, who had been
tent with a large number of convicts from England to form a penal
colony in Port Phillip, thought proper to remove thence after three
months, and establish himself at Hobart Town, February 1S04.
The early days were trying, from want of supplies and of good
government ; and conflicts arose with the natives, which led to the
celebrated Black War. In 1S30 nearly all the settlers, with 4000
soldiers and armed constables, attempted to drive the aborigines
into a peninsula, but caught only one lad. Mr George Robinson
afterwards succeeded in inducing the few hunted ones to surrender
and be taken to Flinders Islaai Beatbs rapidly followed. The
last man died in 1S62, the last female in 1872. Bushranging was
common for years in this scrubby land. The colony was subject
to New Sonth WaleS til] 1 S25, w heu independence was declared.
On free settlers being permitted to go to Van Diemen's Land, they
endeavoured to get freedom of the press, trial by jury, and a popular
form of role. After long struggles, the liberties they sought for
were gradually granted. A responsible government was the last
boon received. Oppressed by the number of convicts thrown into
the countr}-, the free iuhabitints petitioned again and again for the
cessation of ti^ansportation, which was eventually allowed. Among
the governors was Sir John Franklin^ of polar celebrity. The first
newspajior, 7'hi Dcnc€iU Siar^ came out in ISIO. Literature ad.
vanccd from that humble beginning. At tirit the Government
entirely supported schools and churches, .iml for many years state
aid was rttforiled to the Church of England, Presbyterian, Wesleyan,
»nd Roman Catholic churches, but this aid is now withdrawn. The
isl.ind proving too small for a large population, numbers swarmed
off to the neighbouring settlements, and Fort Phillip, now Victoria,
receiveii its first inhabitants from Tasmania. Though not so
prosperous Ad Victoria, the little island enjoys an amount of ease
and comfort which few, if any, settlements elsewhere have been
known to experience, (J. BO.)
TASSIE, James (1735-1799), gem-engraver and mod-
eller, was born of humble parentage at PoUokshaws, near
Glasgow, in 1735. During his earlier years he worked
as a stone-mason, but, having visited Glasgow on a fair-
holiday, and seen the collection of paintings brought
together in that city by Robert and Andrew Foulis, the
celebrated printers, he was seized with an irresistible
desire to become an artist He, removed to Glasgow,
attended the academy which had been established there
by \he brothers Foulis, and, applying himself to drawing
with indomitable perseverance, seconded by great natural
aptitude, he eventually became one of the most distin-
gui.shed pupils of the school. When his training was
completed he visited Dublin in search of commissions,
and there became. .acquainted with Dr Qnin, who had
been experimentiiig, as an amateur, in imitating antique
engraved gems in coioared pastes. He engaged Tassie as
an a<«istant, and together they perfected the discovery of
a vitreous paste composition, styled "enamel," a substance
admirably adapted, by its hardness and beauty of te.xture,
for the formation of gems and m.cda.l!:ons. Dr Quin
encouraged his assistant to try his fortune in London,
and thither lie repaired in 17G6. At fii-st he had a hard
struggle to make his way, for he was modest and diffident
in the extreme, and without influential introductions to
amateurs and collectors. But he worked on steadily with
the greatest care and accuracy, scrupulously destroying
all impressions of his gems which were in the slightest
degree inferior or" defective. Gradually the beauty and
artljtic character of his productions came to be known,
lie received a commission from the empress of Russia
for a collection of alx>nt 15,000 examples; .ill the richest
Cabinets in Europe were thrown open to him for purposes
of study and reproduction; and his copies were freq^uently
sold by "fraudulent dealers as the original gems. He
exhibited in", the Royal Academy from 1769 to 1791.
In 1775 he published the first catalogue of his works, a
thin pamphlet detailing 2S56 items. This was followed
in 1791 by a large catalogue, in two volumes quarto, with
illustrations etched by David Allan, and descripti-ve text
in English and French by Rudolph Eric Raspe, F.S.A.,
enumerating nearly 16,000 pieces. Materials exist in
MS., in the possession of a descendant of Tassie'a, for a-
list of more than 3000 further items.
In addition to his impressions from antique gems,
Tassie executed many large profile medillion portraits of
his contemporaries, and these form the most original and
definitely artistic class of his works. They were modelled
in wax from the life or from drawings done from the life,
and — when this was impossible — from other authentio
sources. T'liey were then cast in white enamel paste, the
whole medallion being sometimes executed in this material ;
while in other cases the head only appears in enamel,
relieved against a background of ground-glass tinted of a'
subdued colour by paper placed behind. His first large
enamel portrait was that of John Dolbon, son of Sir
William Dolbon, Bart., modelled in 1793 or 1794; and
the series possesses great historic interest, as well as
artistic value, including as it does portraits of Adam
Smith, Sir Henry Raeburn, Drs James Eeattie, Blair,
Black, and Cullcn, and many other celebrated men of the
latter half of the 18th century.
At the time of his death, in 1799, th? collectiotf-of
Tassie's works numbered about 20,000 pieces, i (j. m. g.)
TASSIE, "VViLLi.tM (1777-1860), gem-engraver and
modeller, nephew of the above, was born in London on
the 4th of December 1777. He succeeded to the business
of his uncle, to whose collection of casts and medalliotis
he added largely. His portrait of Pitt, in particular,-
was very popular, and circulated widely. When the
Shakespeare Gallery, formed by Alderman Boydell, was
disposed of by lottery in 1805, William Tassie was the
winner of the prize, and in the same year he sold the
pictures by auction for a sum of over ,£6000. He died at
Kensington on the 26th of October 1860, and bequeathed
to the Board of Manufactures, Edinburgh, an extensive
and valuable collection of casts and medallions by his
uncle and himself, along with portraits of James Tassie
and his wife by David Allan, and a series of wate^-colo^^
studies by George Sanders from pictures of the Dutch arii
Flemish schools. (J. m. g.)
TASSO, ToEQUATO" (1544-1595), who ranks witi
Dante, Petrarch, and Ariosto «mong the first four poets
of Italy, was the son ol Bernardo Tasso, a nobleman of
Bergamo, and his wife PorXia de' Rossi. He was born at
Sorrento in 1544.' His father had for many years been
secretary in the-service of the prince of Salerno, and his
mother was closely connected -with the most illustrious
Neapolitan families. The prince of Salerno came into
collision with the Spanish Government of Kaples, was
outlawed, and was deprived of his hereditary fiefs. Li
this disaster of his patron Tasso's father shared. He was
proclaimed a rebel to the state, together with his son
Torqnato, and his patrimony was sequestered. These
things happened during the boy's childhood. In 1552 he
was living with his mother and his only sister Cornelia at
Naples, pursuing his education under the Jesuits, who had
recently opened a school there. The precocity of intellect
and the religious fervour of the boy attracted general
admiration. At the age of eight he was already famous.
Soon after this date he joined his father, who then resided
in great indigence, an exile and without occupation, ' in
76
T A S S O
Borne. News reached them in 1556 that Porzia Tasso had
died suddenly and mysteriously at Naples. Her husband
was firmly, convinced that she had been poisoned by her
brother with the object of getting control over her pro-
perty. As it subsequently happened, Porzia's estate never
descended to her son ; and the daughter Cornelia married
below her birth, at the instigation of her maternal relatives.
Tasso's father was a poet by predilection and a professional
courtier of some distinction. In those days an Italian
gentleman of modest fortunes had no congenial sphere of
society or occupation outside the courts of petty ecclesi-
astical and secular princes. When, therefore, an opening
at the court of Urbino offered in 1557, Bernardo Tasso
gladly accepted it. The young Torquato, a handsome and
brilliant lad, became the companion in sports and studies
•of Francesco Maria della Eovere, heir to the dukedom of
Urbino. The fate which condemned him for life to be a
poet and a courtier like his father was sealed by this
early entrance into princely palaces. ' At Urbino a society
of cultivated men pursued the cesthetical and literary
studies which were then in vogue. Bernardo Tasso read
cantos of his Amadigi to the duchess and her ladies, or
discussed the merits of Homer and Virgil, Trissino and
Ariosto, with the duke's librarians and secretaries. Tor-
quato grew up in , an atmosphere of retined luxury and
somewhat pedantic criticism, both of which gave a per-
manent lone to his character. At Venice, whither his
father went to superintend the printing of the Amadiyi,
these influences continued. He found himself the pet and
prodigy of a distinguished literary circle. But Bernardo
had suffered in his own career so seriously from addiction
to the Muses and a prince that he now deterpiined on a
lucrative "profession for his son. Torquato w;,s sent to
study law at Padua. Instead of applying himself to law,
the young man bestowed all his attention upon philosophy
and poetry. Before the end of 1562 he had produced a
narrative poem called Einaldo, which was meant to com-
bine the regularity of the Virgilian with the attractions
of the romantic epic. In the attainment of this object,
and in all the minor qualities of style and handling,
Eincddo showed such marked originality that its author
was proclaimed the most promising poet of his time. The
flattered father allowed it to be printed ; and, after a short
period of study at Bologna, he consented to his son's
entering the service of Cardinal Luigi d'Este. In 1565,
then, Torquato for the first time set foot in that castle at
Ferrara which was destined for him to be the scene of so
many. glories and such cruel sufferings. After the publica-
tion of Rinaldo he had expressed his views upon the epic
in some Discourses on the Art of Poetry, which committed
him to a distinct theory and gained for him the additional
celebrity of a philosophical critic. The age was nothing if
not critical; but it may be esteemed a misfortune for the
future author of the Gerusalemme that he should have
started with pronounced opinions upon art. Essentially a
poet of impulse and instinct, he was hampered in produc-
tion by his own rules.
The five years between 1565 and 1570 seem to have
been the happiest of Tasso's life, although his father's
death in 1569 caused his affectionate nature profound pain.
Young, handsome, accomplished in all the exercises of a
well-bred gentleman, accustomed to the society of the
great and learned, illustrious by his published works in
verse and prose, he became the idol of the most brilliant
court in Italy. The princesses Lucrezia and Leonora
d'Este, both unmarried, both his seniors by about ten
years, took him under their pro' jction. He was admitted
to their familiarity, and there is some reason to think that
neither of them was indifferent to hirapersonally. Of the
celebrated story of his J"ve for Leonora this is not the
place to speak. It ia enongb at present to observe that"
he owed much to the ton^ant kindness of both sisters.
In 1570 he travelled to Paris with the cardinal. Frank-
ness of speech and a certain habitual want of tact caused
a disagreement wi^h his worldly patron. He left France
next year, and toot service under Duke Alfonso II. of
Ferrara. The most important .events in Tasso's biographyl
during the following four years are the publication of the'
Aminta in 1573 and the completion of the Gerusalemme
Liberata in 1574. The Aminta is a pastoral drama of
very simple plot, but of exquisite lyrical charm. It ap-
peared at the critical moment when modern music, under
Falestrina's impulse, was becoming the main art of Italy.
The honeyed melodies and sensuous melancholy of Aminta
exactly suited and interpreted the spirit of its age. We'
may regard it as the most decisively important of Tasso's
compositions, for its influence, in opera and cantata, was'
felt through two successive centuries. The Gerusfilemme
Liberata occupies a larger space in the history of Euro-
pean literature, and is a more considerable work. Yet
the commanding qualities of this epic poem, those which
revealed Tasso's individuality, and which made it imme-
diately pass into the rank of classics, beloved by the people
no less than by persons of culture, are akin to the lyrical
graces of Aminta. It was finished in Tasso's thirty-first
year ; and when the JfS. lay before him the best part of
his life was over, his best work had been already accom-
plished. Troubles immediately began to gather round
him. Instead of having the courage to obey his own
instinct, and to publish the Gerusalemme as he had con-
ceived it, he yielded to the critical scrupulosity which
formed a secondary feature of his character. The poem
was sent in manuscript to several literary men of eminence,
Tasso expressing his willingness to hear their strictures
and to adopt their suggestions unless he could convert
them to his own views. The result was that each of these
candid friends, while expressing in general high admiration
for the epic, took some exception to its plot, its title, its
moral tone, its episodes, or its diction, in detail. One
wished it to be more regularly classical ; another wanted
more romance. One hinted that the Inquisition would
not tolerate its supernatural machinery ; another demanded
the excision of its most charming passages — the loves of
Armida, Clorinda, and Erminia. Tasso had to defend
himself against all these ineptitudes and pedantries, and
to accommodate his practice to the theories he had rashly
expressed.- As in the Rinaldo, so also in the Jeru-
salem Delivered, -he aimed at ennobling the Italian epic
style by preserving strict unity of plot and heightening
poetio -diction. He chose Virgil for his model, took the
first crusade for subject, infused the fervour of religion
into his conception of the hero Godfrey. But his own
nafur; 1 bias was for romance. In spite of the poet's in-
genuit)\and industry the stately main theme evinced less
spontaneity of genius than the romantic episodes with
which, as also in Rinaldo, he adorned it. Godfrey, a
mixture of pious /Er.eas and Tridentine Catholicism, is not
the real hero of the Gerusalemme. Fiery and passionate
Rinaldo, Ruggiero, 'melancholy impulsive Tancredi, and
the chivalrous SaraoSns with whom they clash in love and
war, divide our interest and divert it from Goffredo. On
Armida, beautiful witch, sent forth by the infernal senate
to sow discord in the Christian camp, turns the action of
the epic. She is copverted to the true faith by her adora-
^tion for a crusading knight, and quits the ?cene with a
phrase of the Virgin Mary on her lips. Brave Clorinda,
donning armour like Marfisa, fighting in duel with her
devoted lover, and receiving baptism from bis hands in
her pathetic death; Erminia seeking refuge in the shep-
herd's hut,-^these lovely pagan women, so touching in
T A S S 0
77
their sorrows, so romantic in their adventures, so tender
in their emotions, rivet out^ttention, while we skip the
battles, religious ceremonies, conclaves, and stratagems
of the campaign. The truth is that Tasso's great inven-
tiin as an artist was the poetry of sentiment. Sentiment,
ni|t sentimentality, gives value to what is immortal in the
Gfrusalemme. It was a new thing in the 16th century,
something concordant with a growing feeling for woman
acd with the ascendant art of music. This sentiment,
rtfned, noble, natural, steeped in melancholy, exquisitely
graceful, pathetically touching, breathes throughout the
episodes of the Gerusalemme, finds metrical expression
in the languishing cadence of its mellifluous verse, and
sustains the ideal life of those seductive heroines whose
names were familiar as household words to all Europe in
.the 17th and 18th centuries.
Tasso's self-chosen critics were not men to admit what
the public has since accepted as incontrovertible. They
vaguely felt that a great and beautiful romantic poem was
embedded in a dull and not very correct epic. In their
uneasiness they suggested evety course but the right one,
which was to publish the Gerusalemme without further
dispute. Tasso, already overworked by his precocious
studies, '.by exciting court-life and exhausting literary
industry, now grew almost mad with worry. His health
began to fail him. He complained of headache, suffered
from malarious fevers, and wished to leave Ferrara. The
Gtrusalemme was laid in manuscript upon a shelf. He
opened nsgotiations with the court of Florence for an
escharge of service. This irritated the duke of Ferrara.
Alfonso hated nothing more than his courtiers leaving him
for a rival duchy. He thought, moreover, that, if Tasso
were aUi-wed to go, the Medici would get the" coveted
dedication of that already famous epic. Therefore he bore
with the poet's humours, and so contrived that the latter,
should have no excuse for quitting Ferrara. Meanwhile,
through the years 1575, 1576, 1577, Tasso's health grew
worse. Jealousy inspired the courtiers to calumniate and
insult him. His irritable and suspicious temper, vain and
sensitive to slights, rendered him only too easy a prey to
their malevolence. He became the subject of delusions, —
thought that his servants betrayed his confidence, fancied
he had been denounced to the Inquisition, expected daily
to Be poisoned. In the autumn of 1576 he quarrelled with
a Ferrarese gentleman, Maddalo, who had talked too freely
about some love affair; in the summer of 1577 he drew
his knife upon a servant in the presence of Lucrezia d'Este,
duchess of Urbino. For this excess he was arrested ; but
the duke released him, and took him for change of air to
his country seat of Belriguardo. What happened there is
not known. Some biographers have surmised that a com-
promising liaison with Leonora d'Este came to light, and'
that Tasso agreed to feign madness in order to cover her
honour. But of this there is no proof. It is only certain
that from Belriguardo he returned to a Franciscan convent
at Ferrara, for the e.xpress purpose of attending to his
health. There the dread of being murdered by the duke
took firm hold on his mind. He escaped at the end of
July, disguised himself as a peasant, and went on foot to
his sister at Sorrento.
The truth seems to be that Tasso, after the beginning of
1575, became the victim of a mental malady, which, with-
out amounting to actual insanity, rendered him fantastical
and insupportable, a misery to himself and a cause of
anxiety to his patrons. There is no evidence whatsoever
that this state of things was due to an overwhelming
passion for Leonora. The duke, instead of acting like a
tyrant, showed considerable forbearance.' He was a rigid
and not sympathetic man, as egotistical as a princeling of
that age was wont to be. But to Tasso he was never
cruel, — hard and unintelligent peraaps, but far from being
that monster of ferocity which his been' painted. The
subsequent history of his connexion with the poet, over
which we may pass rapidly, will corroborate this view.
While at Sorrento, Tasso hankered after Ferrara. The
court-made man could not breathe freely outside its
charmed circle. He wrote humbly requesting to be taken"
back. Alfonso consented, provided Tasso would agree to
undergo a medical course of treatment for his melancholy.
When he returned, which he did-with alacrity under those
conditions, he was well received by the ducal family. All
might have gone well if his old maladies had not revived.
Scene followed scene of irritability, moodiness, suspicion,
wounded vanity, and violent outbursts. In the summer
of 157S he ran away again ; travelled through Mantua,
Padua, Venice, Urbino, Lombardy. In September he
reached the gates of Turin on foot, and was courteously
entertained by the duke of Savoy. WTierever he went,'
'• wandering like the world's rejected guest," he met with
the honour due to his illustrious name. Great folk opened
their houses to him gladly, partly in compassion, partly in
admiration of his genius. But he soon wearied of their
society, and wore their kindness out by his querulous
peevishness. It seemed, moreover, that life was intoler-
able to him outside Ferrara. Accordingly he once more
opened negotiations with the duke ; and in February 1579
he again set foot in the castle. Alfonso was about to
contract his third marriage, this time with a princess of
the house of Mantua. He had no children ; and, unless
he got an heir, there was a probability that his state
would fall, as it did subsequently, to the Holy See. The
nuptial festivals, on the eve of which Tasso arrived, were
not therefore the occasion of great rejoicing to the elderly
bridegroom. As a forlorn hope he had to wed a third
wife ; but his heart was not engaged and his expectations
were far from sanguine. Tasso, preoccupied as always
with his own sorrows and his own sense of dignity, made
no allowance for the troubles of his master. Rooms
below his rank, he thought, had been assigned him.
The princesses did not want to see him. The duke was
engaged. Without exercising common patience, or giving
his old friends the benefit of a doubt, he broke into terms
of open abuse, behaved like a lunatic, and was sent off
without ceremony to the madhouse of St Anna. This
happened in March 1579; and there he remained until
July 15S6. Duke Alfonso's long-sufi'erance at last had
given way. He firmly believed that Tasso was insane,
and he felt that if he were so St Anna was the safest place
for him. - Tasso had put himself in the wrong by his
intemperate conduct, but far more by that incomprehen-
sible yearning after the Ferrarese court which made him
return to it again and yet again. It would be pleasant to
assume that an unconquerable love for Leonora led him
back. Unfortunately, there is no proof of this. His
relations to her sister Lucrezia were not less intimate and
affectionate than to Leonora. The lyrics he addressed to
numerous ladies are not less respectful and less passionate
than those which bear her name. Had he compromised
her honour, the duke would certainly have had him
murdered. Custom demanded this retaliation, and society
approved of it. If- therefore Tasso really cherished a
secret lifelong devotion to Leonora, it remains buried in
impenetrable mystery. He did certainly not behave like
a loyal lover, for both when he returned to Ferrara in
157S and in 1579 he showed no capacity for curbing his
peevish humours in the hoi)e of access to her society.
It was no doubt very irksome for a man of Tasso's
pleasure-loving, restless, and self-conscious spirit to be kept
for more than seven years in confinement. Yet we must
weigh the facts of the ca.=!C rather than the fancies which
J 8
T A S S O
have been indulged regarding them. After the first few
mouths of liis incarceration he obtained spacious apart-
ments, received the visits of friends, went abroad attended
by responsible persons of his acquaintance, and corre-
sponded freely with whomsoever he chose to address.
The letters written from St Anna to the princes and cities
of- Italy, to warm well-wishers, and to men ofHhe highest
reputation in the world of art and learning, form our
most valuable source of information, not only on his then
condition, but also on his temperament at large; It is
singular that he spoke always respectfully, even affection-
ately, of the duke. Some critics huve attempted to make
it appear that he was hypocritically kissing the hand which
had chastised him, with the view of being released from
prison. But no one who has impartially considered the
whole tone and tenor of his epistles will adopt this opinion.
What emerges clearly from them is that he laboutecJ under
a serious mental disease, and that he was conscious of it.
He complains that his disorder at times amounted to
frenzy, after which his memory was "weakened and his
intellectual faculties enfeebled. He saw visions and heard
phantom voices. Puck-like spirits made away with his
books and papers. The old dread of poison, the old terror
of the Inquisition, returned with greater violence. His
iiodily condition grew gradually worse ; and, though he
.does not seem to have suffered from acute attacks of
illness, the intellectual and physical constitution of the
man was out of gear. Meanwhile he occupied his uneasy
leisure with copious compositions. The mass of his prose
.dialogues on philosophical and ethical themes, which is
very considerable, we owe to the years of imprisonment in
St Anna.. Except for occasional odes or sonnets — some
written at request and only rhetorically interesting, a few
inspired by his keen sense of suffering and therefore
.poignant — he neglected poetry. But everything which
fell from his pen during this period was carefully preserved
by the Italians, who, while they regarded him as a lunatic,
somewhat illogically scrambled for the very offscourings
of his wit. Nor can it be said that society was wrong.
Tasso had proved himself an impracticable human being;
but he remained a man of genius, the most interesting
personality in Italy. Long ago his papers bad been
sequestered. Now, in the year 1580, he heard that part
of the Gerusalemme was being published without his per-
mission and without his corrections. Next year the whole
poem was given to the world, and in the following six
months seven editions issued from the press. The prisoner
.of St Anna had no control over his editors ; and from the
masterpiece which placed him on the level of Petrarch and
Ariosto he never derived one penny of pecuniary profit.
A rival poet at the court of Ferrara undertook to revise
.-and re-edit his lyrics in 1582, This was Battista Guarini ;
.and Tasso, in his cell, had to allow odes and sonnets,
poems of personal feeling, occasional pieces of coinpliment,
to be collected and emended, without lifting a voice in
the matter A few years later, in 1585, two Florentine
pedants of the Delia Crusca academy declared war against
the Gerusalemme They loaded it with insults, which seem
to those who read their pamphlets now mere parodies of
criticism. Yet Tasso fell bound to reply , and he did so
with a moderation and urbanity which prove him to have
.been riot only in full possession of his reasoning faculties,
but a gentleman of noble manners al.so. Certainly the
history of Tasso's incarceration at St Anna is one to
make us pause and wonder. The man, like Hamlet, was
distraught through ill-accommodation to his circum.stances
and his age; brainsick he was undoubtedly, and this is
the duke of Ferrara s justification for the treatment he'
.enjincd. In the pri.son he bore himself pathotically,
peevi.slily, but never ignobly. IJe showed a singular
indifference to the fate of his great poem, a^rare magna-
nimity in dealing with its detractors. His own personal
distress, that terrible malaise of imperfect insanity,
absorbed him. What remained over, untouched by the
malady, unoppressed by his consciousness thereof, dis-
played a sweet and gravely-toned humanity. The oddest
thing about his life in prison is that he was always trying
to place his two nephews, the sons of his sister Cornelia,
in court-service. One of them he attached to the duke
of Mantua, the other to the duke of Parma. After all his
father's and his own lessons of life, he had not learned
that the court was to be shunned like Cijrce by an honest
man. In estimating Duke Alfonso's share of blame, this
wUf ul idealization of the court by Tasso must be taken
into account That man is not a tyrant's victim who
tooves heaven and earth to place his sister's eons with
tyrants.
In 1586 Tasso left St Anna at the solicitation ' of
Vincen^o Gonzaga, prince of Mantua. He followed his
young deliverer to the city by the Mincio, basked awhile
in liberty and courtly pleosuies, enjoyed a splendid recep-
tion from his paternal town of Berganjo, and produced a
meritorious tragedy called Torrismondo. But only a few
months had passed when he grew discontented. Vincenzo
Gonzaga, succeeding to his father's dukedom of Mantua,
had scanty leisure to bestow upon the poet. Tasso felt
neglected. In the autumn of 1587 we find him journeying
through Bologna and Loreto to Rome, and taking up his
quarters there with an old friend, Scipione Gonzaga, now
patriarch of Jerusalem. Next year he wandered off to
Naples, where he wrote a dull poem on Mcmie Oliveto. In
1589 he returned to Rome, and took up his quarters again
with the patriarch of Jerusalem. The servants found him
insufferable, and turned him out of doors. He fell ill, and
went to a hospital The patriarch in 1590 again received
him. But "Tasso's restless spirit drove him ■ forth to
Florence. The Florentines said, "Actum est de eo."
Rome once more, then Mantua, then Florence, then Rome,
then Naples, then Rome, then Naples — such is the weary
record of the years 1590-94. We have to study a verit-
able Odyssey of malady, indigence, and misfortune. To
Tasso everything came amiss. He had the palaces of
princes, cardinals, patriarchs, nay popes, always open to
him. Yet he could rest in none. "To rest would have
been so easy, had he possessed the temperament of Berni
or of Horace. But he was out of joint with the world.
No sensuous comforts, no tranquillity of living, soothed
his vexed soul. Gradually, in spite of all veneration for
the sacer vales, he made himself the laughingstock and
bore of Italy.
His health grew ever feebler and his. genius dimmer.
In 1592 he gave to the public a revised version of the
Gerusalemme. It was called the Gervsalemme Conqnistata.
All that made the poem of his early manhood charming
he rigidly erased The versification was degraded , the
heavier elements of the plot underwent a dull rhetorical
development. During the same year a prosaic composition
in Italian blank verse, called Le Selte Gtornale, saw the
light. Nobody reads it now We only mention it as
oiie of Tasso's dotages — a dreary amplification of the first
chapter of Genesis.
It is singular that just in these years, when mental
disorder, physical weakness, and decay of inspiration
seemed dooming Tnsso to oblivion, his old age was cheered
with brighter rays of hope. Clement VIII. ascended
'the papal chair in 1592. He and his nephew. Cardinal
Aldo.brandini of St Giorgio, determined to befriend our
poet. In 1594 they invited him to Rome. There he was
to assume the crown of bays, as Petrarch had assumed it,
on the Capitol. Lean and worn out with sickness, ready to
T A S — T A S
70
totter into the tomb, where rest might ;n>s.^ibly be found,
Tasso reached Horuc in November The ceremony of his
■coronation was deferred because Cardinal Aldobrandini
had fallen ill. But the pope assigned him a pension ; and,
under the pressure of pontifical remonstrance, Prince Avel-
lino, who held Tasso's maternal estate, agreed to discharge
a portion of his claims by payment of a yearly rent-charge.
.\t no time since Tasso left St Anna had the heavens
apparently so smiled upon him. Capitolian honours and
money were now at his disposal. Yet this good fortune
came too late. It seemed as though fate had decided
that this man, in all his weakness of character and
pathetic grace of genius, should win the stern fame of
martyrdom. Both laurel wreath and wealth must be
withdrawn from him. Before the crown was worn or the
pensions paid he ascended to the convent of St Onofrio,
on a stormy 1st day of April in 159.^. Seeing a cardinal's
coach toil up the steep Trasteverine HiJI, those good monks
came to the door to greet it. From the carriage stepped
Tasso, the Odysseus of many wanderings and miseries, the
singer of sweetest strains still vocal, and told the prior he
was come to die with him.
In St Onofrio he died, on the 25th of April of that year
1595. He was just past fifty-one ; and the last twenty
years of his existence had been practically and artistically
ineffectual. At the age of thirty-one the Germnlemme, as
we have it, was 8iccomplbhed. The world too was already
ringing with the music of Aminta, More than this Tasso
had not to give to literature. But those succeeding years
-of derangement, exile, imprisonment, poverty, and hope
deferred endear the man to us. Elegiac and queridous as
be must always appear, we yet love Tasso better because
he suffered through nearly a quarter of a century of slow
dechne and unexplained misfortune.
Taken altogether, the best complete edition of Tasso's writings
is that of Rosini (Pisa), in 33 vols. The prose works (in 2 vols.,
Florence, Le Mourner, 1875) and the letters (in 5 vols., same pub-
lishers, 1853) have been admirably edited by Cesarc Guasti. fhis
edition of Tasso s Letters forms by far the most valuable source for
his biography. No student can, however, orait to use the romantic
memoir attributed to Tasso's friend Marchese Manso (printed in
Rosini's edition of Tasso's works above riled), and the important
P'iUi di T(rrqu/it<i Tasso by Serassi (Bergamo, 1790). To give any-
thing like a complete account of more recent critical and bio-
graphical Tasso Utcrat"' ,• is impossible within the limits of this
srticle (J A. S )
TASSON'I, AuESSANDRO, Italian poet, was a native of
Modena, where he was bom in 1565, and where he died
in 1635 From 1.^99 till 1608 he was secretary to
Cardinal Ascanio Colonna, and in this capacity saw some
diplomatic service , he was afterwards employed for some
time in similar occupations by Charles Emmanuel duke of
Savoy His best-known hterary work is a burle.«que epic
entitled La Searhia RrijnUj, or " The Rape of the Bucket '
(1622), the reference being to a raid of the Modenese upon
the people of Bologn.^ in 1325, when a bucket was carried
off as a trophy. As in Butler's ffudibras, many of the
personal and local allusions in this poem are now very
obscure, and are apt to seem somewhat pointless to the
general reader, but, in spite of Voltaire's contempt, it
cannot be neglected by ai.y systematic student of Italian
literatuij (compare vol. xii. p. 512). Other characteristic
works ol Tassoni are nis Peiisirri Direrst (1612), in which
he treats philosophical, literary historical, and scientific
question? with unusual freedom, and hia Cons<derazioni
sopra il Petrarcha (1609), a piece of criticism showing
great independence of traditional views.
TASTE is the sensation referred to the month when
certain soluble substances are brought into contact with
the mucous membrane of that cavity. The sense is located
almost entirely in the tongue. Three •distinct sensations
ore referable to the tongue— (1) taste, (2) touch, and (3)
temperature The posterior part of its surface, where
there is a A-sh,\pcd group of large papilla;, called cirrum-
vallate papill.e, supplied by the glosso-pharyngeal nerve,
and the tip and margins of the tongue, covered with
filiform (touch) papilla; and fungiform papilla;, are the
chief localities where taste is manifested, but it also exists
in the glosso-palatine arch and the lateral part of the soft
f)alate. The middle of the tongue and the surface of the
hard palate are devoid of taste. The terminal organs of
taste consist of peculiar bodies named taste-bulbs or taste-
goblets, discovered by Schwalbe and Lovtnin 1867. They
can be most easily demonstrated in the papilUe foUalse,
large oval prominences found on each side near the base
of the tongue in the rabbit. Each papilla consists of a
series of lamina; or folds, in the sides of which the taste-
bodies are readily displayed in a transverse section. Taste-
bodies are also found on the lateral aspects of the circum-
vallate papillae (see fig. 1), in the fungiform papilla;, in the
Flo. 1.— Transveme section of a clrcniEvallato paplUa : W, the papilla. 9, c, the
wall In section , R, R. the drcalar sUt or fossa ; K, K, the taste-bulbs lo posi-
tion , N. N, the nerves The figures are Irom Landois and Stirling s PhyiwJogy.
papilla? of the soft palate and uvula, the under surface oJ
the epiglottis, the upper part of the posterior surface of
the epiglottis, the inner
sides of the arytenoid car-
tilages, and even in the
vocal cords
The taste-bulbs are min-
ute oval bodies, somewhat
like an old fashioned Flo-
rence flask, about
inch
in length by ^-^ in breadth.
Elach consists of two sets of
cells, — an outer set, nucle-
ated, fusiform, bent like
the staves of a barrel, and
arranged side by side so as "Urou^uT.S!'"^'^'
to leave a small opening at "
D, sapponlng
K under end E fre^
Dd. open with the vrr^iec'ini: .ipices of
.1 ,., ^, [ ^, the taste-cells
the apex (tbe mOUttl ol tbe Fig .3 -</. isolated protective ten «, tajte-
barrel),callcd the gustatory ""
pore ; and an mner set, five to ten in number, lying in
the centre, pointed at the end next the gustatory pore,
and branched at the other extremity The branched ends
are continuous with non-medullated nerve fibres from the
gustatory nerve. These taste-bodies are found in immense
numbers: as many as 1760 have been counted on one
circumvallale papilla in the ox. They are ab.sent in rrp-
tilea and birds F. E. Schultze slates that they exi>t in
the month of the tadpole, whilst the tongue of the frog
18 covered with epithelium resembUng that of tbe gu-tatory
bodies- Leydig has described organs having a ,-imilar
structure in tbe skins of freshwater fishes and the tadpole
these may possibly be widely distributed taste organs Tbe
proofs that these are the terminal organs of taste rest on
careful observations which have shown (1) that taste is
only experienced when the sapid substance is allowed t-o
come into contact with the taste-body, and that the sensa
80
T A T — T A T
13 absent or much weakened in those areas of mucous
membrane where these are deficient ; (!') that they are
most abundant where the sense is most acute ; and (3)
that section of the glosso phiryngeal nerve which is known
to be distributed to the areas of mucous membrane where
taste is present is followed by degeneration of the taste-
bodies. At the same time it cannot be asserted that they
are absolutely essential to taste, as we can hardly suppose
that those animals which have no special taste-bodies are
devoid of the sense.
Taste is no doubt closely allied to smell ; lience in
invertebrates organs are found that may be referred to
either of the senses (see Smell). Tastes have been vari-
ously classified. One of the most useful classifications
is into sweet, bitter, acid, and saline tastes. To excite
the sensation, substances must be soluble in the, fluid of
the mouth. Insoluble substances, when brought into
contact with the tongue, give rise to feelings of. touch
or of temperature, but excite no taste. The specific mode
of action of sapid substances is quite unknown. The
extent of surface acted on increases the massiveness of ths
sensation, whilst the intensity is affected by the degree of
concentration of the solution of the sapid substance. If
solutions of various substances are gradually diluted with
water until no taste is experienced, Valentine found that
the sensations of taste disappeared in the following order —
syrup, sugar, common salt, aloes, quinine, sulphuric acid;
and Camerer found that the taste of quinine still con-
tinued although diluted with twenty times more water
than common salt. Von Viiitschgau found that the time
required to excite taste after the sapid substance was
placed on the tongue varied. Thus .saline matters are
tasted most rapidly ('l" second); then sweet, acid, and
bitter (-253 second). This is probably duo to the activity
of diffusion of the substance. No relation between the
chemical constitution of the substance and the nature of
the taste excited by it has yet been discovered, and there
are many curious examples of substances of very different
chemical constitutions having similar tastes. For example,
sugar, acetate of lead, and the vapour of chloroform have
all a sweetish taste. A temperature of ifrom 50° to 90°
F. is the most favourable to the sense, water above or
below this temperature either masking or temporarily
paralysing it. Taste is often associated with smell, giving
rise to a sensation of flavour, and we are frequently in
the habit of confounding the one sensation with the other.
Chloroform excites taste alone, whilst garlic, asafa'tida,
and vanilla excite only smell. This is illustrated by the
familiar experiment of blindfolding a person and touch-
ing the tongue successively with slices of an npple and of
an onion. In these circumstances the one cannot be dis-
tinguished from the other when the no<^e, is firmly closed.
No doubt also experience aid.s in detfctin^ ^light differ-
ences of taste by suggesting to the mind/ what may be
expected ; it is not easy, for instance, to distinguish the
tastes of red and white wine when the eyes are Mind-
folded. Taste may be educated to a rcmarkablo extent ;
and careful observation — along with tlie practice of avoid-
ing all substaiices liaving a very pronounced l.iste.or
liaving an irritating effect — enables tea tasters and wine-
tasters to detect slight differences of taste, more especially
when combined with odour so as to produce llnvonr. which
would be quite inapjireciablc to .in ordinary palate. As to
tlie action of electrical currents on taste, observer.s have
arrived at uncertain results. So long ago as IT."!- Sulzer
stated that a constant current caused, more especially at
the moments of opening and of closing the current, a ,sen-
Bation of acidity at the anode (-t- pole) and of alkalinity
at the katode (- pole). This is in all probability due to
electrolysis, the dL'comi>osition products exciting tlic taste-
bodies. Oriinhagen found that tapidly intatrhpted cilrrents
fail to excite the sense ; Von Vintschgau, who liaa directed
much attention to the sense of taste, says that when the
tip of his tongue is traversed by a current there is only a
tactile sensation. Again Honigschmied,' on the contrary,'
found that a current excited the metallic or acid taste at
the anode placed on the tip of tlie tongue, whilst the alka-
line taste of the katode was absent. The writer of this
article has found that this is the experience of most persons
examined by him.
Disease of the tongue causing unnatural dryness may
interfere with taste. Substances circulating in the blood
may give rise to subjective sensations of taste. Thus
santonine, morphia, and biliary products (as in jaundice)
usually cause a bitter sensation, whilst the sufferer from
diabetes is distressed by a persistent sweetish taste. The
insane frequently have subjective tastes, 'which are real
to the patient, and frequently cause njuch distress. In
such cases, the sensation is excited by changes in the
taste-centres of the brain. Increase in the sense of taste
is called hypergeusia, diminution of it /ii/pogcusia, and its
entire loss ageusia. Rare cases occur where there is a
subjective taste not associated with insanity nor with the
circulation of any known sweetish matters in the blood,
pos.sibly caused by irritation of the gustatory nerves or by
changes in the nerve centres.
As to tlie compnr.itive anntoiny^of the tongue, sec Owen's Com-
pnnUivc ylunt0}ntj (ind r/njsioforri/ of I'crtcbratcs (London, 18G8).
Tor i> full account of llic pliy-iology of t.iste, see Von Vintschgau'j
nrticle "Ccsehiuackssiiiii," in J/a-maHii's JIuiidbuch dcr Physiologic,
vol. iii. part ii. (J. G. M.)
TATAKS. See Tartars.
TATi;, Nahum (1C52-1715), poet-laureate, -was born
in 1C52 in Dublin, and was educated at Trinity College
there. Ho afterwards removed to London, and adopted
literature a.s a profession, succeeding Sliadwe!' as poet-
laurcate in 1G02. He died with.. i the precincts of the
Mint, Southwark (whither he had taken refuge from his
debtors), August 12, 1715.
His name is still roniembcred in iiunncsion with the A'cw Version
of Die PMims nf Pm-id, wliioli, in conjunction with Nicholas
liuAiiv (.;.!■.), lij jiubiish.'.! in 1690 (si-e HvM.vs, vol. xii. p. 590).
Tate was also tlic .author of some tni dramatic jiieccs (sec Biogr.'
])iamnlicn, i. 703) and a gre.it nnuibir of poems, including ona
entitled The liutoaid Ejiiewe, or The Arlof Jnijling (1697).
TATIAN, one of the earliest Christian apologists, whose
personality and work had an important influence on the
liistory of the church during the period of ihe Antonires.
He w.as by birth an Assyrian (according to Zahn of Sem-
itic descent), but received a Greek education, and, after
acquiring a very extensive knowledge of Greek literature,
began to travel about the Konian empire as a wandering
teacher or "soptiist.", But his inquiring disposition and
his earnest spirit remained unsatisfied alike with the
religions and the philosophies he encountered, while the
doirigs of men, their greed for amusement and pleasure,
their vanity .and treachery, disgusted him. In this tem-
per, about l.'iO .\.n., he readied Rome, where the Old Testa-
ment fell into his hands; aiid at the same time he came
into clo.ser relations with the Christians ; their firm faith,
cha>te morals, fearless courage, and close fellowship dee|ily
impressed him, and in the end the spectacle of their life
and their monotheistic doctrine founded upon proiihetic
revelation completely conquered him. Henceforward the
whole unchristian world, with all its philosophy and
culture, presented itself to him as mere darkness and the
decci.ti.ui of demons, but the " barbarian philosophy " (for
so he called Christianity) as the wisdom of God. He
became a convert, and soon afterwards (l.'i2-l.')3) w^rote
(most probably in Greece, where he stayed for some time)
his Oralio ml GrMos, which gained liini great repute
T A T I A N
81
&moag the Christians, and is still extant. This discourse
is distinguished from the other apologies oi that century
by the brusqueness with which its author repudiates the
culture of the Greeks ; his scorn, however, does not forget
to avail itself of the resources of Greek philosophy and
rhetoric. His polemic often reminds the reader of the
Cynics and of such scoffers as Lucian ; his view of things,
however, is very different from that of the las^named
writer, for with Tatian the " barbarian philosophy, " on
behalf of which he speaks, which teaches a monotheistic
cosmology and inculcates rigid asceticism and renunciation
of the world, is indisputably cert;.' In many details,
and even in the general outUne of his philosophy, Tatian
the Christian continued without knowing it to be a Plalon-
izing philosopher ; but that he had undergone a radical
change is shown by his views of history and civilization,
his faith in one living God, his conviction that truth is
contained nowhere else than in the Christian Scriptures,
his attitude of trust towards the Logos, made man in Jesus
Christ, and finally by his earnest and world-forsaking
expectation of judgment to come. The Oratw, which is
polemical rather than apologetic in its character, has a
special importance in the history of Christian dogma, inas-
much as it gives an elaborated exposition of the doctrine
of the Logos ; it was also read by subsequent writers, as,
for example, by Julius Afncanus, for its chronological
data. Tatian was the first apologist to undertake, on be-
half of Christianity, a work of the class which afterwards
'developed into the numerous "world-histories" written
from the Christian point of view. Tatian's diction is
often rough, harsh, and abrupt, his sentences involved
and inelegant. He has the art, indeed, of expressing him-
^If with uncommon freedom and independence, and can
put things also in a very graphic way, but at the same
time he is a careless stylist, or rather, as an apostate from
the Greek view of things, he has tried to accentuate his
breach with classical traditions by elaborate carelessness
and deliberate eccentricity.
Tatian soon returned from Greece to Rome, and came
into close relations with the famous apologist Justin,
whom he reverenced greatly. He himself established a
«chool, to which the afterwards celebrated ecclesiastical
writer Rhodon belonged for a time. So long as Justin
lived (i.f., till 166) Tatian's doctrines excited no feelings
of offence in the Christian community, although even in
his Oratio there are germs of questionable and unorthodox
views. These germs, however, he continued to develop
until about 172 , and, as about this very time the Roman
church became severely opposed to everything Gnostic
and heretical, a rupture was inevitable , the date of the
breach is given by Eusebius (doubtless following Julius
Afncanus) as having been 172. But the teaching of
Tatian had really become open to challenge. He drew a
distinction between the supreme God and the demiurge,
cooaidering the latter to be good in his natore indeed,
but quite a subordmate being ; he accepted the doctrine
of a variety of aeons ; he utterly rejected marnage and the
use of animal food ; he denied the blessedness of Adam ;
he began to abandon the allegorical interpretation of the
Scriptures and to see genuins difficulties and contradic
tions in them ; he sought to demonstrate from the epistles
of Paul the indispensableness of the most rigid asceticism ;
but indeed all his " heresies " (and he has also been charged
with docetism) have their explanation in this desire of his
to establish a theoretical basis for his doctrine of the
Christian duty of complete world-renunciation. He joined
the " Encratites," a sect which indeed had existed before
tilis time, but which received new life from his presence.
Of his numerous writings belonging to this period nothing
ias survived the hostility which sought their repression
2.i— 6
save a few titles {/Si^SA/oe TrpopKrjfjidTuiv, wtpl toO xara tov
o-tuT^pa KarapTurfiov, &c.) and one or two very interesting
fragments iu the works of Clemeut of Alexandria, Origen,
and Jerome. Clement of Alexandria seems personally to
have known Tatian, and even to have been his pupil for a
time. Soon Taiian began also to be assailed in writing by
the teachers of the church, and to be set aside as a very
prodigy among heretics, and as a man who united the errors
of Marcion with those of Valentine. Musanus, Rhodon,
Irenseus, the author of the Muratorian fragment (see
below), Tertullian, Hippolytus. Clemeut of Alexandria,
and Origen all took part in refuting him.
Towards the end of his 'life, or perhaps even between
152 and 172, Tatian went from Rome to Mesopotamia,
and there — probably in Edessa — wrought a great deal.
It is probable that he was in Rome about the year 172,
but whether he died there or in his native country is not
ascertained. It is very possib.j that in Syria, where
ecclesiastical matters had not been developed so far as in
the West, the doctrines of Tatian met with toleration
within the Christian communities, but neither of this
can we be certain.' But this we do know, that a work
of Tatian's not yet mentioned, the DiaUssaron, held its
ground in the Syrian churches and even in ecclesiastical
use for two whole centuries.
The Ihatessaron is a gospul very freely and boldly constructed by
Tatian out of the four Gospels kno^vn to us. It cannot have been
produced during bis latter years, for all traces of dualism ar©
absent. On the other hand, however, it exhibits certain peculiar-
ities of the theology of iti compiler. Probably one would not be
far wrong in assigning it to the first years of the reign of Marcus
Aurelius. It was written by Tatian in Greek, not in Synac as
Zahn has tried to make out. this is shown — (1) by the title, it
being known eveii among the Syrians as Dialessaron , (2) by a few
Greek fragments which still survive; (3) by the Latin redaction
which it received in the 6th century; (4) by its rejection in the
Muratorian fragment— for that the word " m-tia-i," carelessly cor-
rected by the transcriber, stood originally " tatiani " may be
regarded as certain. ^ In estimating the work scholars were formerly
entirely dependent on certain meagre notices in Eusebius, Theodoret,
Enhraem Syrus, Epiphanius, and the later Syrians,' but we have
recently become possessed of large portions of it, and are now in
a position to form for ourselves an idea of its character and plan.
In 1877 there was published* a l,atin translation, by Aucher the
Mechitarist, of Ephraem's gospel commentary, which had been pre-
served in Armenian, and it then became apparent that Ephraem
had taken the Dialessaron as his basis. This led to further research.'
Recognizing with other scholars that other Syrian writers also,
down to the middle of the 4th century, had used the Diatessaron
(Theodoret tells us that in his diocese alone he caused more than
300 copies to be withdrawn from use), Zahn undertook the labo-
rious task of restoring the work with the help of Ephraem's com-
mentary and other sources.' In details much of what Zahn has
given as belonging to the text of the Diatessaron remains problem-
atical,-—m particular he has not been sufficiently careful in his
examination of the work of Aphraates,— but in all the main points
his restoration has been successful. The rediscovery of such a
work is in a vanety of ways of the very highest importance for
the early history of Christianity. (1) It is of interest for the history
of the canon. It shows that in 'Tatii.n's time there was still no
recognized New Testament canon, and that the texts of the Gospels
were not regarded as inspired. He could not possibly have treated
them with such freedom had they been held to be otherwise. But
the ecclesiastical use made of his work in Syria shows that Tatian
intended it fur the church, and, as we are informed further by
Eusebius that Tatian also edited the Pauline epistles, we are entitled
to conclude that, like Marcion, he wished to frame a special New
Testament canon. (2) It is of importance for the Gospels as we
now have them. We learn from the Ihatessaron that about 160
A D our four Gospels had already taken a place of prominence in
the church and that no others had done so; that in particular the
Fourth Gospel haJ taken a fixed place alongside of the three
' The author of the Acta Archtlai treats him as a heretic.
' See Zeilschr /. d. luth. Theol., 1874 and 1875, ZeiUchr./ wist.
Theol., 1877; Zeilschr /. Rirchengtsch, , m. p. 400.
' See Credner, KM., i. 437 sq.\ Semisch, Taliani Diatessaron,
1856
* Evangdii ConcordarUis Exposiiio facta a S. Bphraemo, Ventee.
' See Harnaik, ZUchr. /. Kirchengesch., iv. p. 471 sq.
* Zahn, Tatian's DvUessoron, 1881.
XXIIL — u
82
T A T — T A U
synoptics. (3) As regards the text of the Gospels, we can conclude
from the Dkdcisami that the texts of our Gosiiels about the year
160 already ran essentially as we now read tliem, but that inten-
tional ghaufcs were not wanting about the middle of the 2d century.
Thus, for example, Tatian in his Gospel according to Matthew found
nothing about the ' ' church " and about the buildiKg of the church
upon Peter the rock. These sentences therefore are very probably
of later interpolation. (4) It is of importance for tlio light it throws
on Talian's Christianity. The Syriac translation of the Diatessaron
still falls within the 2d ce-ntury, but Zalin was mistaken in assum-
ing it to presuppose a prior Syriac translation of the separate
Gospels (the so-called Syrus Cun-toiiianus) ; Baetiigen has shown
the latter to be the later. It was only gradually that the
"evangeliura der Getrennteu" superseded the " evangehum Ocf
Geniischten."'
Tlie best editions ot tlie Oralio ad Orxcos are ttiose of Worth (Oitford, 1,00),
Marinus (Paris, 1742), and Otto <Jena, 1851). See Daniel, T.^''''l'J"wP'Z''-
1837; Zahn, TaJian'. ili<i(«s<.ron, .ErlaiiRcn, 1S31 (compare a^o his Eiang.-
Cmm. des TMopMus. Erlaneen, 1883, p. 286 ,,,.); Ha.nack, Telle u Vnter-
«nd Tatians Rede an die Oruchen UbersetU u e,«gele,el. Giessen, 1884 , Hllgen-
ield. Kettergeseh., Leipsic^ 1884; Mijller, art. -Tut.an m Herzog-PUtt s BnyU..
Tol IV -. and Donaldson. Uiit. oj Christ. Lit., lii. p. 3-62. (A. HA.)
TATIUS, Achilles. SeeRoMANi;E, vol. xk. p- 635 sq.
TAULER, JbHANN (c. 1300-1361), was born about the
year 1300 in Strasburg, where his father was a wealthy
burgher. It is probable that he entered the Dominican
convent in his native city about the year 1313, while
Meister Eckhan was still professor of theology (1312-
1320) in the monastery school. From Strasburg he went
to the Dominican college of Cologne, and some believe that
his superiors sent him a few years later to St James's
College, Paris. After his theological education was
finished he returned to Strasburg. In 1324 the pope
placed under an interdict these parts of Germany, including
Strasburg, which supported the excommunicated emperor
Louis of Bavaria. It was one of the privileges of the
Dominican and Franciscan orders to be allowed to perform
religious services when the secular and all other regular
clergy were silenced by an interdict. The Dominican order,
however, had taken the side of Frederick, and in most
places refused to say mass ; but in Strasburg they remained
in the deserted city, kept their churches open, and admin-
istered to the citizens the consolations of religion. It is
supposed that this conduct of the Strashurg Dominicans
was due to the influence of Tauler. In 1339 the heads of
the order interfered, and commanded the monks to close
their churches. The town council in return banished the
Dominicans from the city. Tauler, with some of his
brethren, found refuge in Basel, although that city, like
Strasburg, sided with the emperor. During theSe years
Basel was the headquarters of the " Friends of God "
{Gottesfreunde, see Mysticism, vol. xvii. p. 133), and
Tauler was brought into intimate relations with the
members of that pious mystical fellowship. He returned
to Strasburg probsibly in the year 1346. It is somewhat
difficult to trace his later life. The Black Death came to
Strasburg in 1348, and it is more than probable that, when
the city was deserted by all who could leave it, Tauler
remained at his post, encouraging by sermons and personal
visitations his terror-stricken fellow-citizens. His corre-
spondence with distinguished members of the Gottes-
freunde, especially with Margaretha Ebner, and the fame
of his preaching and other work in Strasburg, had made.
him known throughout a wide circle of pious people. He
seems to have made preaching journeys, in the later years
of his life, to Cologne and to other places in the Rhine-
land. He died in the year. 1361.
> EvangdieiifragmmU:: Der Oritchische Text des Curetontchen
Syrers, Leipsic, 1865.
« On the Diatessaron, ita later history and vanous editions, see
(besides Zahn, as cited above) the Coilex Fuklmsis, ed. Ranke, 186a ;
Schmeller, Anvionii Aim. gti/e ct Tatiani diritur Hanrwma hmng.,
18«! ^w-^ett, Tatian, Lat. andGer., Paderborn, 1872; Martin, Ue
Tatiani Diatessaron Arabioa Veraione," in Viii^aAnalecta. Sacra, vol.
iv. (1883), pp. 4G6, 487.
It is somewhat difficult to form an estimate of the- religious life
and opinions of Tauler. For many years the chief modern authci ily
upon the subject was the late Prof. C. Schmidt of Strasburg, ^^hose
views had been introduced into England in Miss Winkv ortli's
book upon Tauler. According to Schmidt, Tauler's religious life
divides into two parts, before and after what may be called his
second conversion. In the first period Eckliart rules his religious
life ; iu the second he is under the inlluence of the mysterious
"Friend of God in the Oberland," whom Schmidt asserts to be
Nicholas of Basel. Denifle doubts the historical character of lliis
episode and the genuineness of the book, ttliile Preger admits Iho
fact of the fconverbion, but refuses to identify tlie mysterious stranger
with Nicholas of Basel.
It is still fiiore difficult to determine the precise nature of the
theological opinions of Tauler. Denifie maintains tliat the only
genuine remiiins of Tauler are the eighty well-knowu Sermons in-
cluded in the earliest edition and tour others in two manuscripts,
all of which bear Tauler's name; Preger seems inclined to admit ill
addition the Sermons in the account of Tauler's conversion ; both
critics exclude the famous Book of Spiritual Poverty. Schmidt,
on the other hand, while admitting the authenticity of all thS
above-named sermons, calls the Book of Spiritual Poverty Tauler's
masterpiece. , - -
If we take the Sermons by themselves, then Tauler s teachers in
theology were the Pseudo-Dionysius, Augustine, Gregory, Bernard,
the two abbots of St Victor, Thomas Aquinas, and, above al ,
Theodoric of Freiburg and Meister Eckhjrt. His theology will
represent the purest and highest type of German mysticism (see
Mysticism), and, by insisting upon personal relationship to God,
freedom from the thraldom of authority, and the worthlessncss of
mere good works without the renewal of the inward life, will re-
present a tendency in theology which found full expression in the
reformation of the 16tli century. If, on the other hand, the Book
of Spiritual Poverty bo included among the genuine wiitings of
Tauler, then undoubtedly his views have more distinct conufxion
with, that doctrine of the appropriation of tlio benefits of Christ s
work of redemption by an imitalio Ohrislt findiog expression in a
life of evangelical poverty which is such a characteristic of the
religious life of the century to which he belonge-f The problem
is a very difficult one, and it may be questineu whether wc are
vet in a position to solve it. Denifle is undoubtedly correct in
his statement that we need critical texts of 14th-century mystical
wiiters, and that very great uncertainty exists with reference to
the authors of the individual mystical writings of that period. It
may be added that it is very probable, when the organization and
method of work among the "Friends of God" are taken into con-
sideration, that majiy mystical books of devotion were the work,
not of one, but of several authors, and that ;the conditions ot the
problem concerning the authenticity of Tauler's writings are not
unlike those which exist among the books and tracts asoribed to
Wickliffe. This at all events may be safely asserted, that Tauler 3
sermons are among the noblest in the German language. 1 hey
are not so emotional as Suso's, nor so speculative as tckharts, but
they are intensely practical, and touch on all sides the deeper pro-
blems of the moral and spiritual life.
Tauler's Sermms were printed first at Lcipsic In 1498, and reprinted wltb
addSns'frorETkhart an^d o.here at Basel (1621 1,.«) and at Cologne (1M3).
Thprp i, a recent edition by Julius Hambergcr, Frankfort, 1864. See uenine,
OafLrt v™ s°.'»™ r^rm.-(A.I877; Carl &ci,n,mMannTaukT vc„ ilras.-
i/a5 ouc'i t(» yi ■> TCtnkworth Tauler s Life and Sermons; R. A.
Jl5HS2£S^/?^'-^s,=wh:sf ^^^
Tauler, is In the press.
TAUNTON, a municipal borough and market-town of
Somerset, England, is situated in the beautiful and fertile
vale of Taunton Dene, on the river Tone, on the Taunton
and Bridgwater Canal, and on several branches of the
Great Western Railway, 45 miles south-south-west of
Bristol 31 north-east of Exeter, and 163 west-south-west
of London. The river is crossed by a stone bridge of
three arches. The town is well buUt, the three mam
streets being wide and regular, and meeting in a triangular
space in the centre called the Parade, where there is a
market cross. The castle, .now occupied by the museum of
the Somerset Archaeological and Nu'.ural History Society,
is reputed to have been founded by Ine, king of the West-
Saxons. The earliest portion of the present building was
erected by Walter Giflard, bishop of Winchester, "> the time
of Henry I , but the whole building was repaired in 149ti,
and an embattled gateway erected by Bishop Langton.
The church of St Mary Magdalene, a spacious building
with double aisles both north and south of the nave, is
chiefly Perpendicular, but haa remains of Norman work in.
T A U — T A y
83
the chancel arch, and ot Early English- in the north aisles
and transepts. It possesses one of the finest of the
chsuucteristic towers of Somerset, but only a facsimile
reproduction (erected 1857-62) of the old one. There
are still some remains of the Augustinian priory founded
by Bishop Oiffard, and there are also two modern convents.
Taunton is an important centre of education, the principal
institutions being the grammar school (founded in 1522 by
Richard Fox, bishop of Winchester), Huish's schools, the
Independent college (1841), and the VVesleyan collegiate
institution (1847). The other principal public buildings
are the old market-house, the assembly rooms, the new
market in the Ionic style, and the shire hall in the Eliza-
bethan style, opened in 1858 at a cost of £28,000. The
charitable institutions include the Taunton and Somerset
hospital (opened in 1809 and extended in 1870 and 1873),
the eye infirmary (1816), Gray's almshouses and chapel
(1635), St Saviour's home for boys (1870), and theservants'
training home (1882). The town possesses manufactories
of silk, collars and cuffs, and gloves, iron and brass found-
ries, coach-building works, and breweries. There is also
ft considerable agricultural trade. The population of the
municipal and parliamentary borough (area 1249 acres)
in 1881 was 16,614. The population of the same area in
1871 was 15,466.
Taunton has played a prominent part during tbe troubled
periods of English history. Various Roman remains prove it to
nave been occupied by the Romans; but it first obtained historical
notice when Ine, king of the West-Saxons, made it the border
fortress of his kiugdom. It takes the name 'Taunton, or Thoneton,
from its situation on the Tone or Thone. The castle was razed
by Ethelburg after expelling Edbricht, king of the South-Saxons.
About the time of William tlje Conqueror the town and castle
were granted to the bishop of Winchester, and for many years the
castle was the bishop's piincipal residence. In the reign of William
it possessed a mint. In 1497 the town and castle were seized by
the impostor Perkin Warbeck. Taunton rfas made the se.it of the
suffragan see of Taunton and Bridgwater in 1538, but, on the death
of William Finch, the first bishop, in 1559, the Act had no further
operation in reference to Taunton. Like tbe other towns of Somerset,
Taunton was strongly Puritan in its sympathies. Situated at a
point where the main roads of the county met, it was during the
Civil War almost constantly in a state of siege by one or other of
the rival parties. Having been garrisoned by the Parliamentary
forces, it was captured by the Royalists in the summer of 1643, but
on 8th July 1644 it was, after a long siege, taken by Blake, who
held it with heroic pertinacity till relieved by Fairfax on the 11th
May 1645, and again after it was invested by 10,000 troops under
Goring till the siege was finally raised on the Sd July. Still constant
to its Puritan traditions, Taunton welcomed Monmouth in 1685 with
acclamation, and he was proclaimed king there on the 20th June,
f?Ie maidens of the town presenting him with a standard. As a
consequence, Taunton was made the chief example of tlie fearful
verSgeanoe of Jeffreys, who, at the assizes iield in the castle, con-
demned no fewer than 134 inhabitants of the town and neighbour-
hood to death, and a much larger number to transportation. Taunton
obtained a municipal charter from Charles I. in 1627, which was
revoked in 1660. A second charter, granted by Charles II. in 1677,
was permitted to lapse in 1792 owing to the corporation allowing a
majority of their number to die without filling up the vacancies.
From this time until it again reeeived municipal government, 17th
April 1877, it was under the care of two bailiffs appointed at the
court leet of the lord of the manor. Formerly the town returned
two members to parliament, but in 1885 the number was reduced
to one.
See ToQlmln's History 0/ Taunton, edited by Savage, 1822; and several papers
In tbe Proceedings of the Somerset Archseologlcal Society for 1872.
TAUNTON, a city of the United States, the county
Beat of Bristol county, Massachusetts, lies some 31 miles
nearly south from Boston. The town proper, sometimes
called Taunton Green,, stands on the right bank of the
Taunton river, at the head of navigation, about 17 miles
above its mouth. The entire area enclosed within the cor-
porate limits is 37 square miles. Taunton is traversed
by the main line of the Old Colony Railway, which con-
nects it with Boston and Fall River, Mass., and Pro-
vidence, R.I. Owing to its situation and its connexions
by rail and sea, Taunton has become a supply point for the
greater part 01 south-eastern Massachusetts. The popula-
tion of the city was 18,629 in 1870, 21,213 in 1880, and
23,674 in 1885, showing an increase somewhat in excess of
that of tbe State at large. Fully one-fourth of the popu-
lation are of foreign birth, and the proportion is increasing.
The State lunatic asylum is in Taunton. The leading
industries are the manufacture of cotton goods, iron and
steel products (particularly locomotives, machinery, nails
and spikes), and silver-plated table ware. Taunton waa
incorporated as a town in 1639, and received a city charter
in 1864.
TAURIDA, a government of southern Russia, includes
the peninsula of Crimea (q.v.) and a tract of mainland
situated between the lower Dnieper and the coasts of the
Black Sea and the Sea of AzofiE, and is' bounded by these
two seas on the S., while it has on the N. the governmenta
of Kherson and Ekaterinoslaff. The area is 24,540 square
miles, of which 6990 square miles belong to the Crimea;
its continental part consists of a gently undulating steppe
of black earth, with only a few patches of salt clay on the
banks of the Sivash or Putrid Sea, and sands in the lower
course of the Dnieper. It is watered by the Dnieper,
which flows along the frontier for 180 miles, and by two
small rivers, the Molotchnaya and Berda. Many small
lakes and ponds occur in the north, especially among the
Dnieper sands, as well as on the Kinburn peninsula, at the
mouth of the Dnieper, where salt is made. There are no
forests except the artificial plantations in the colonies of
the Mennonites. The climate is continental, and resembles
that of central Crimea and Kherson. The population in
1883 was 940,530 (247,780 in Crimea). The continental
portion, although less mixed than that of the peninsula,
consists of Russians (Great, Little, and White Russians),
who constitute 83 per cent, of the population, Germans (11
per cent.), Bulgarians (5 per cent.), and Jews (1 per cent.).
Agriculture and cattle-breeding are the leading occupations,
, 'Wheat is the chief product, and by the Germans and Russian Non-
conformists on the Molotchnaya agriculture is carried to a high
degree of perfection. . In 1882 there were within the government
356,270 horses, 485,800 cattle, and 3,985,300 sheep (2,891,700
merinos). Salt is made both on the mainland and in the Crimea,
and the fisheries along the coast supply an export trade. Manu-
factures are insignificant, but there is a brisk export trade in
grain, salt, fish, wool, and tallow. The main centres of trade are
the Kakhovka port on the Dnieper, Berdyansk 00 the Sea of AzofT,
and the seaports of Eupatoria, Sebastopol, Sudac, and Theodosia.
The government is divided into eight districts the chief towns of
which (with populations in 1881) are Simferopol (29,030)', capital
of the government, Eupatoria (13,420), and Theodosia (10,800) in
Crimea, and Aleshki (8915), Berdyansk(18,180),Melitopol (13,310),
Perekop (4280), and Yalta (3000) on th£ continent. Several villages,
such as Bolshoy Tokmak (8000) and Andreevka (7360), have each
a population of more than 6000.
TAUROMENIUM. See Taoemina.
TAURUS. See Asia Minor, vol. ii. p. 704-5.
TAVERNIER, Jean Baptiste (1605-1689), the cele-
brated traveller and pioneer of' French trade with India,
was born (1605) at Paris, where his father Gabriel and
uncle Melchior, Protestants from )intwerp, pursued with
reputation and success the profession of geographers and
engravers. The conversations he heard in his father's house
inspired Jean Baptiste with an early desire to travel, an<J
in his sixteenth year he had already visited England, the
Low Countries, and Germany, and seen something of war
with the imperialist Colonel Hans Brenner, whom he met
at Nuremberg. Four and a half years in the household
of Brenner's uncle, the viceroy of Hungary (1.624-29), and
a briefer connexion in 1629 with the dnke of Rethel and
liis father the duke of Nevers, prince of Mantua, gave hitn
the habit of courts, which was invaluable to him in later
years, hnd at the defence of Mantua, in 1629; and in Gei'-
many in the following year vrith Colonel Walter Butler
(afterwards notorious through the death of Wallenstein).
84
T A V — T A V
he gained some military experience. When he left Butler
to view the diet of Ratisbon m 1630, he had seen Italy,
Switzerland. Germaoy, Poland, and Hungary, as well as
France, England, and the Low Countries, and spoke the
principal languages! of these regions. He was now eager
to visit the East, and at-.Ratisbon he found the oppor-
tunity to join two French-fathers, M. de Chapes and M. de
9t Lieban, who bad received a mission to the Levant. In
their company he reached Constantinople early in 1631,
and here he spent eleven months, and then proceeded by
Tokat, Erzerum, and Envan to Persia. His farthest point
m this first journey was Ispahan ; he returned by Baghdad,
Aleppo, Alexandretta, Malta, and Italy, and was again in
Paris in 1633. Of the next five years of his life nothing
la known with cerfainty, but it is probable that it was
during this penod tnat he became controller of the house-
hold of the duke of Orleans. In September 1638 he
began a second journey (1638-43) by Aleppo to Persia
and thence to India as far as Agra and Golconda. His
visit to the court of the Great Mogul and to the famous
diamond mines was, of course, connected with the plans
realized more fully in his later voyages, in which Tavernier
travelled as a merchant of the highest rank, trading in
costly jewels and other precious wares, and finding his
chief customers among the greatest princes of the East.
The second journey was followed up by four others. In
his third journey (1643-49) he went as far as Java and
returned by the Cape ; but his relations with the Dutch
proved not wholly satisfactory, and a long lawsuit on his
return yielded but imperfect redress. In his last three
Journeys (1651-55, 1657-62, 1664-68) he did not proceed
Oeyond India. The details of these voyages need not
detain us here, and indeed are often obscure ; but they
completed an extraordinary knowledge of the routes of
overland Eastern trace, and brought the now famous
merchant into close and friendljr communication with the
greatest Oriental potentates. They also secured for him
a large fortune and great reputation at home. He was
oresented to Louis XFV., " in whose service he had
travelled sixty thousand leagues by land," received letters
of nobility (16th February 1669), and in the following
■•ear purchased the barony of Aubonne, near Geneva.
In 1662 he had married Madeleine Goisse, daughter of a
Parisian jeweller.
Thus settled in ease and affluence, Tavernier occupied
himself, as it would seem at the desire of the king, in
publishing the account of his journeys. He had neither
the equipment nor the tastes of a scientific traveller, but
in all that referred to commerce his knowledge was vast
and could not fail to be of much public .service. He set
to work therefore with the aid of Samuel Chappuzeau, a
French Protestant litterateur, and produced a Nouvelle
Relation de VInteneur du Serail du Grand Seigneur (4to,
Pans, 1675), based on two visits to Constantinople in his
first and sixth journeys. This was followed by Le .S?-r
Voyages de J B Tavernier (2 »ols. 4to, Pans, 1676) and
by a supplementary Recueil de Plwnenrs Relations (4to,
Pans. 1679), in which he was assisted by a certain La
Chapelle. This last contains an account of Japan, gathered
from merchants and others, and one of Tong-king, derived
from the observations of his brother Daniel, who had
shared bis second vovage and settled at Batavia ; it con-
tained also a violent attack on the agent.s of the Dutch East
India Company, at whose hands Tavernier had suffered
more than one wrong. This attack was elaborately an-
jwcred in r)utch by H. van Quellen burgh ( Vmdicise Bala-
»»e», Amst.. 1C841, but made more noise becan.se Arnanld
drew from it tjOntt material unfavourable to Protestantism
for his Apologu p'lnr lea Caltiolvfuet (1681 ), and so brought
..OD the troveUer a ferocious onslaught in Jurieu's Esprit de
M. Arnanld (1684). Tavernier made no reply to Jorien ;
he was in fact engaged in weightier matters, for in 168*
he travelled to Berlin at the invitation of the Great Elector,
who commissioned him to organize an Eastern trading com-
pany,— a pro.ect never realized. The closing years of Ta-
vernier's life are obscure , the time was not favourable for
a Protestant, and it^as even been supposed that he passed
some time in the Bastille. What is certain is that he left
Pans for Switzerland ^n 1687, that in 1689 he f^sea
through Copenhagen on his way to Persia through Mus-
covy, and that in the same year he died at Moscow. It
appears that he had still business relations in the East, and
that the neglect of these by his nephew, to whom they were
intrusted, had determined the indefatigable old man to a
fresh journey.
Tavemier's travels, though often repnnted and translated, have
two defects : the author uses other men s material without dis-
tin^ishmg it from his own observations; and the narrative is much
confused by his plan of often deserting the chronological order and
giving instead notes from various joiimeys about certain routes.
The latter defect, it is true, while it embarrasses the biographer, is.
hardly a blemish in view of the object of the writer, who sought
mainly to furnish a guide to other merchants. A careful attempt
to disentangle the thread of a life still in many parts obscure has
been made by Charles Joret, Jean Baptiste Tavernier d'apres des
Documents Nouveanx^ 6vo. Pans, 1886, where the literature of the
subject is fully given.
TAVIRA, a seaport of Portugal, in the province of
Algarves, at the mouth of the Seca, 21 miles east north-east
of Faro. It is regularly built, and has an alcazar, used as
an ofEcial residence, besides other public buildings. It
has sardine and tunny fisheries, and carries on a consider-
able coasting trade. Excellent fruit is grown in the
neighbourhood The population in 1878 was 11,459.
TAVISTOCK, a town of Devonshire, England, is finely
situated m the valley of the Tavy, on the western border
of Dartmoor, and on the South Devon Railway, 15 miles
north of Plymouth, 14 south-east of Launceston, and 213
west-south-west of London. The town has been greatly
improved since 1845, chiefly at the expense of the duke
of Bedford, by the construction of a system of sewage and
the erection of many new dwellings suitable for the work-
ing classes. There are some remains (including a portion
in the square, now used as a public library established in
1799) of the magnificent abbey of Sts Mary and Rumon,
first founded in 961 by Orgar, earl of Devon. After de-
struction by the Danes in 997 it was restored, and among its
famous abbots were Lyfing, friend of Canute, and Aldred.
who crowned Harold II. and William, and died archbishop
of V'ork The abbey church was rebuilt in 1285, and the
greater part of the abbey in 14.'i7-58 The church of Si
Eustachius possesses a lofty tower supported on four open
arches Among the principal public buildings are the guild-
hall (1848), the corn market (1838), the market buddings
(1858), and the new hall for concerts and public entertain-
ments. Near the town is Kelly College, opened in 1877,
founded by Admiral Benedictus Marwood Kelly, with a
preference for the founder's kin Mines of copper, man
ganese, lead, silver, and tin are in the neighbourhood, and
the town possesses a considerable trade in cattle and corn,
as well as a brewery. The population of the township in
1881 was 6914. The parliamentary borough (area 11,450
acres), which had a population in 1871 of 7725 and in
1881 of 6879, was merged in the county m lb85.
The town owes its origin to the foundation of the abbey in 9f.l
From Henry I- the abbots obtained the entire jurisdiction of the
hundred of Tavistock, with a weekly market. A school f'>r .Saxou
literature was established by the monks, which Hounshed tiU the
Reformation The Koyalists were quartered at Tavistock after
the defeat of the Parliamentarians on hradock Down m 1643, and
Charles I visited it on his way to Cornwall It returned members,
to parliament from the time of Edward I till 1885, among its
representatives having been John Pym, thf great opiwiser of the
policy of Charles I., and William, Lord Russell, beheaded ib the
T A V — T A X
85
jtlgn of Ch.irles II. Among tlie-famous natives of Tavistock are
Sir Jo!in GUnville, judge under James I., William Brown, the
author of Brilatinia'i Pastorals, and Sir Francis Drake, of whom a
<oIo5sa1 stntii£ by Boehsi was prescutcd?Jo,_the_to»'nJ)y_the;duke
of Bedford ill 18SJ.
TAVOY, a, British distt-ict in the Tenasserim division
of Burmah, lying between 13° 15' and 15° 11' N. lat. and
between 97' 48' and 98° 4-t' E.' long. It has an area of
7"-0D square' miles, and is bounded on the- N. by Amherst
idistrlct, E. by the-Yoma Jlountains, ' S. by Mergui
'district, and W. by the Bay of Bengal. The district is
enclosed by mountains on three sides, viz.', the main chain
of the Yomas on the east, rising in places to 5000 feet,
'which, with its densely wooded spurs, forms an almost
impassable barrier between British and Siamese territory ;
the Xwahlabo in the centre, which takes ^ts name from its
loftiest peak, (5000 feet) ; and a third range, under the
Viame of Thinmaw, between the Nwahtabo aiid the sea-
'coast. The chief rivers are the Tenasserim and Tavoj', the
former being formed by the junction of two streams which
unite near Met-ta ; for the' greater part of its course it is
^dangerous to navigation. The Tavoy is navigable for vessels
of any burden. It is interspersed wilh many islands, and
^"B'itli it^ numerous smaller tributares affords easy and rapid
communication over the country. .The climate is on the
Jwhole pleasant'x'fhe- rainfall averages about 190 inches
a year.
, The census'of ISSl returned the population of Tavoy .it 84,983
<m:.lcs41,7S5, females 43,203), of whom 82,187 were nmldhists, 823
were Jloliammedans, and 1368 were Christians. The headquarters
»n'l capital is Tavoy town, which is situated on the left bank of
the river of the same name, and contained a population of 13,372
ill ISSl., Of the total area, only 83.7^0 acres are (1885-86) culti-
vated. Rice is the principal product ; the betel-nut is extensively
firown for homo consumption ; and tlie district is pirlicularly rich
in fruit trees. With its only port difficult of access, and with no
means of internal communication, the trade of Tavoy district has
always been small and almost entirely confined to' .Siam' and the
Straits Settlements. The principal imports arc piece goods aijil
other cotton manufactures, raw silk, tea, crockeiy, \rincs and
spirits, metals, and provisions. The chief ■manufactures are salt
and earthen pots. The gross revenue gf the district in 1885-S6 was
£20,235, ofwhich the land contributed £12,663. Tavoy was handed
over to the British at the end of the first Burmese war in 1824.
A revolt broke out in 1829, headed by Moung Da, tha former
governor, which was at once quelled, and since then the district
has remained in undisturbed possession of the British.-^
TAWING. See Leather.
TAXATION. With regard to taxes in general Adam
Smith lays down four maxims which have been briefly
described as the maxims of equality, certainty, convenience,
and economy. The treatment of the general principles of
taxation by subsequent writers consists in the main of the
development and criticism of these celebrated canons.
Equality. Equality of Taxation. — The subjoined passa^ge from
Adam Smith contains the germs of several distinct theories
of ■what constitutes just or equal taxation : —
"The subjects of every state ought to contribute towards the
Support of its government as nearly as possible in proportion to
their respective abilities, that is, in proportion to the revenue which
they respectively- enjoy under the protoction of the state. The
expense of government to the-individuals of a, great nation is like
the expense of management to- the joint tenants of a gieat-ekatc,
who are all obliged to contribute in. proportion to their respective
interests in the estate. -In the observation or neglect of this
maxim consists what is called the equality or inequality of tixation.v
Every tax, it must be observed once for all, which falls linally
ui>on one only of the three sorts of revenue above-mentioned (viz.,
Knt, wages, profits] is necessarily unequal in so far as it ihies not
affect the other two. In the following examination of different
taxes I shall seldom take much further notice of Ibis sort of-
inequality, but shall in most cases confine my observations to that
inequality which is occasioned by a particular tax fidlin;; unequally
npon that particular sort of private revenue which is affected by it."
The first sentence implies (a) that every Government has
the rijht to exact contributions for its support from all its
subjects. -_ According to this view, the right of taxation is
aerived directly from the conception ' of sovereignty, 'ji
was the determination to insist on this principle which
led to the retention of the 3d. per fi> duty on tea^ thai
" figment of a tax, that peppercorn rent," which lost 'the
British their American colonies. The Americans Qpfiosedto
this Absolute doctrine the masim that taxation oughitO'be
coincident with representation, — that only those who shared
in the powers should have the burdens of government. -If
the latter opinion is' strictly construed it would follow that
all taxes on articles of universal consumption are unjust
except in a country where all who have the natural have
also the legal capacity of voting. The doct'rine of sove-
reignty as the basis of taxation; pushed to its logical
extreme, results in -the maxim that a Government should
impose such taxes as are "most easily assess'ed and
collected, and are at the same time most conducive to
the public interests" (M'Culloch). Just as a general looks
to the eflicie'ncy of his army as a ■n'hole, and is prepared
to sacrifice any po'tion if necessary, so, it may be said,
the state should not regard the particular interests of
individuals, but should rather consider the nation as an
organism, or, to adopt older phraseology, a leviathan. ' So
far as the political existence of a state is concerned, this
view seems to meet with general acquiescence even, in
modern times, when patriotism is often classed amongst
the doubtful virtues, but no ideal of a perfect state has
yet met with such acceptance in any nation as to render
popular a complete neglect of private interests.
Accordingly, U second basis of taxation (6) is~ found in
the expansion of the term "abilities" used by, Adam
Smith which leads to the position that taxes ought to be
Icvief ."SO as to involve equality of sacrifice on the part of
the cbntributor.^. This is the ideal of taxation which was
advocated by .Nfill and Fawcett. - " Equality of taxation
as a maxim of politics," says the former, " means equality
of sacrifice. It means the apportioning the contribution
of each person towards the expenses of government, so
that he shall feel neither more cor less inconvenience from
his share of the payment than every other person expcri
e'nces from his." It is admitted that this standard cannot
be completely realized, but it is thought to furnish a
proper foundation of remission in some cases and of pro-
portional increase of taxation in others. . It is generally
on'thi.s ground that it is proposed to leave incomes belo«
a certain amount untaxed, — a plan which, so far as direct
taxes arc concerned, has been adopted' in the United
Kingdom. It is clear, however, that any taxes on com-
modities in general use must infringe this.-canon, ■whilst
the distinction between " necessaries " and "lu.xurics," as
Adam .Smith pointed out, is difficult to draw in com-
munities advancing infcivilization ; and certainly a con-
sideraWe portion of the taxes on stimulants is, as t-
matti'ir of fact, derived from persons whose incomes an
below what is generally considered a reasonable minimun
for the standard of comfort, and such persons would proh
ably consider enforced abstiaeuce a greater ^sacrifice than
the payment of a direct tax. It is also principally... en
the ground of equality of sacrifice that the proposal for
graduated or progressive taxation rests. - It is argued thai
a person with £10,000 a year can pay 10 per cent, (foi
example) as easily as a person with XIOOO can pay 5 pet
cent. It is to be observed, that the principle of equality
of sacrifice regards the payment of taxes as duty imposed
on the subjects of a state independently of the advantages
they may deri^ve individually from the expenditure of the
amount levied.
A third basis of taxation7 however,' is found in the
principle (c) that taxes ought to be considered as payment
for valuable services rendered by the state to individuals,
1 and this seems'to be the position Adam Smith had in view
86
T A X A T ION.
in introduciiig tlib cliude "ander tfie'protecfion of the
state," and ia comparing the individuals of a great nation
to the joint tenants of a great estate. , It is easy to show,
as Mil] does, that,'if protection is taken in its narrowest
signification, as -a matter of fact the poor need piore,
protection than the rich, but the, argument becomes mora
plausible,. and mor?' consonant with the general teaching
of Mill, if stress is' laid on the protection and assistance
afforded by the state in thfe process of acquisition of indi-
vidual fortunes — a -view of taxation sometimes called the
sociul dividend iJieory (cf. Walker, Helferich). It is really
on this ground that Mill proposes that the ■'unearned
increment " from land should be taken by the s^ate, and,
as has often been pointed out, "unearned increments"
are by no means confined to land. Without much exag-
geration the state may be regarded as. a partner in all
industrial undertakings, " and is therefore entitled to a
share in the proceeds. In a somewhat similar manner,
poor rates, education rates, 'ic, have been regarded as of
the nature of insurance paid by the rich against the care-
lessness of the poor. '.The principle under consideration
has been generally applied in cases in which the' service
rendered by the state and the benefit accruing to indi-
viduals are easily discovered aud estimated, especially in
connexion with local taxation.
The object of taxation is in general to provide the" stale
Jvith an adequate revenue, but in all cases the indirect
effects are important, and son^etimes ;jrovision of revenue
is considered of secondary importance. Accordingly it has
been maintained (d) that the state ouglit to use its powers
of taxation for the promotion of \a.nous social ends.~' Adam
Smith remarks that "it has for some timo'jiist been the
policy of Great Britain to discourage the consumption of
spirituous liquors, on account of their supposed tendency
to ruin the health and corrupt the morals of the' conunon
people," and in our own times the falling off in the revenue
fron;i alcoholic drinks often furnishes a subject for apparent
congratulation in "budget" speeches. German writers with
socialistic tendencies (e.y., Wagner) have emphasized this
social point of taxation ; and Mill, although disapproving
of graduated taxation of income, advocated the imposition
of extremely heavy succession duties, with the object of
promoting a better' distribution of national wealth and
compelling individuals to rely on themselves.' "Many
nations again have imposed duties on imports with the
view of protecting and encouraging home industries, n'nd
most of the import duties levied in England before the
great reforms of Peel were of this nature. Accordingly,
both theoretically and practically, the promotion of social
or moral ends may be considered as a fourth basis of ta.\a-
tion. It is worth, noticing that in early times the fines
received in the courts of justice were an important source
of revenue.
Vrhatever basis of Vexation be adopted, the elementary
principle of justice noticed in the conclusion of A. Smith's
first canon must be considered. If it is just to tax A, it
is-.just to tax B under precisely similar circumstances.
TJius .stated, the principle seems almost formal, but /or
piractical purposes small differences in circumstances niay
bij neglected, and it is clear that in any great nation the
taxpa'yers may be arranged in a limited number of groups,
Within each of which the constituent individuals niay be
regarded as similarly situated. ■ A tax on rent, or wages,
or profits would be obviously unequal if those in one place
or employment were taxed while- those in another were
left free. The practical difficulty is to discover what cases
may fairly be regarded as similar, especially if equality of
sacrifice be taken as theadeal.
As.a matter of fact, in evetjr civilized community a
tcmpUx Bjisi^nl'Of, taxfitiflnas adopted, the different parts
of whicli xest in diflereut; degrees tipun the various (prin-
ciples just noticed.,'' Some' taxes are justified on the
grounds of their convenience to the sovereign power, and
others are 'increased-. or diminished in certain cases in
accordance with the' 'principle of equality of "sacrifice;
some are regarded as payments for, services rendered by
the state, others partake of the nature of sufliptuary'
regulations or are approved on various social or moral
grounds; and sometimes the imposition of one productive
tax involves, on the ground of simple equality, the adop-
tion of similar taxes which are hardly worth collecting. ■ '
, The remaining canons of Adam Smith are partly, like the
first, ethical in character partly purely economic. ■ Of' the *'^^*^"
second — the canon of certainty — Adam Smith remarks : — -^
"The time of payment,"the manner* of, "payment,; '.he
quantity to be paid, otight all to be clear and plain to the
contributor and to every other person [on the ground of
the otherwise arbitrary powers which are given to the tax-
gatUerer] ..,.., -The certainty of what each individual
ought-to pay is in taxation a matter of so great impoi-tanca
that a very considerable degree of inequality, it appears,'
I believe, from the experience of all nations, is not neai;
so great an evil as a very small degree of uncertainty.'^
Perhaps the best example of the infringement of this caOor
is furnished by the taxes levied from ..the miserable pro<
vincials by their Roman governors.^
The third rujc — the canon of cox'ii'nience^^wh'ich enjoirrsXon...,
that "every tax ought to be levied at the time or in the vcniepce;
manner to which it is mo-st likely to be' convenient for
the contributor to pay it,''.may be justified, not merely,
on general grounds of good government, but^'also on thf
special •economic ground of the increase in the jiroductlve-
ness of taxes ■which satisfy the conditionJ^^lt- has been
found possible to rai.se a considerable revenue by tax6s oi
commodities, tlie, payments of which by the oon.sumers arc
made in insensible jjortions,' when- it would have been im-
possible to collect the same amount l>y direct taxation ai
comparatively long intervals.. Taxation is in this respect
like bleeding.
The fourth rule^he'canoh of^ecojiojiiy— states^as its EcoKortif;.
general principle that "every tax ought to be so contrived
as both to take out and to keep out of the pockets of the
people as little as possible over and above what it brings
into the public treasury of the state.'c,, Taxes may, accord-
ing to Adam Smith, break this rule by requiring a large
number' of officials for", their Collection, by restraint of
trade and production, by encouraging smuggling, and by
causing unnecessary vexation ; .."and, though vexation is
not, strictly speaking, expense,' it is certainly equivalent
to the expense at which every "man" would be willing tc
redeem himself from it." On smuggling Adam, Smith
elsewhere remarks that.!' to pretend to ha've any scrupl?
about buying smuggled goods would in, most countries be
regarded as one of those pedantic pieces of hypocrisy which
serve only to expose the penson Vho alTects to practise
them to the suspicion of being a' greater knave than his
neighbours." It may be observed that in practical politici
it is generally taken for granted that a tax which can be
evaded will be evaded, and indirect methods of taxation,
are to a great cxtent_devicesjjy_which possibilities, of
evasion are restricted.
_ To these general rules of tlTxation explicitly giveri'by other
Adam Smith, the following may be added, most of which ^,j.f|Jif*Jigj
are implied in different passages'of his treatment of taxa-
ti.on, but have been expounded end emphasized. by subse-
quent i^'riters. A convenient siimmary is given by Hcl-
fcrich ill Scliiinberg's I/andbuch der Puliiisclicn 0(l:onoini(
(vol! ii. p. 138). ' (a) A given amount of revenue is, as t
rule, both from the point cf view of the Government and
its bubietts.niOrecouvemently raised frOrn a small numljeL
TAXATION
87
3f •very proJuctivo taxes than from a larger nombsr with
iinaller returns per unit. This was one of toe principal
iuancial reforms advocated by Adam Smith with reference
;o the customs duties, and has been carried out in the
United Kingdom by Sir Robert Peel and his successors.
The inextricable confusion of the customs duties levied
before these reforms were effected can only be realized by
those who study the details of the history of taxation. A
similar process of simplification has been partially applied
to the direct taxes, but in many cases (especially in local
taxation) the rule is more honoured in the breach than in
the observance. (6) A good system of taxation ought to
provide for a self acting increase iii the revenue in propor-
tion as the population and the consequent demands for
governmental expenditure increase. It has been found by
experience that an. old tax causes less inconvenience than
i new tax of smaller amount, a fact which is so striking in
some cases as^to have given rise to the saying that an old
tax is no tax. (c) Those taxes are best which yield a.
steady and calculabia return, instead of a return fluctuat-
ing in'character and difficult to estimate, (d) Those taxes
are best which in case of need can be, most conveniently
increased in amount. - It is this characteristic .of the
jncom* tax ■which renders it so' popular ivith, chancellors
of the exchequer, and, it waa partly, on this ground that
Mr Gladstone substituted a tax on beer for the tax on
malt, (e) Regard must alwavs be paid to the real inci-
dence of taxation, and care take^i that the real burden of
the tax falls on those aimed at by the legislature. ■ No
part of the theory or practice of taxation has given rise to
80 much controversy as the incidence of particuiar taxes, a
1 subject indeed of so much difficulty and importance as to
■ occupy the greater- portion of the treatment by systematic
writers.
Direct Incibence OF TAXATION. — Taxes are generally divided
»!id into direct and indirect. A direct tax is defined by Mill
^~"' as one' "demanded from the very persons who it is in-
tended or desired should pay it." Others(e.<7., M'Cnlloch)
define it as a tax taken directly from income or capital
In the former definition non-transferable taxes on expendi-
ture would be included (e.ff., a tax on livery servants), but
not in the latter. Mill's definition has been generally
adopted (e.ff., by Wagner, in the German Handbuck,
voL ii. p. 152); but in any case the most important direct
taxes practically are those levied on income or capital
directly, and the most important indirect the customs and
excise duties. In examining the incidence of taxation the
order of arrangement adopted by Adam Smith seems best.
He discusses separately taxes on the three great 'species
of income, — rent, profits, and wages (appending to the
articles on the first two an examination of taxes upon the
capital value of land, houses, and stock), and taxes intended
to fall indifferently upon every species of revenue, viz.,
capitation taxes and taxes upon consumable commodities.
Tueaon Taxes ore Rent. — What is commonly known as rent
**""• consists in general of two parts, which may be termed
economic rent and profit rent. Economic rent arises from
the superiority of advantage of any source in the produc-
tion of a certain amount of utility over the least productive
source which the conditions of demand and supply (includ-
ing transmission to market) render it possible to employ.
Thus, in the production of food, some lands have an
advantage in fertility or situation ; again, in furnishing
amenities of accommodation or facilities for business, some
houses have f.'om their situation a similar advantage; and
again, different processes in the arts and manufactures are
superior to others (giving rise to patents). In all these
aases where the amount of the superior sources is limited
(naturally or artificially )p and recourse must be made to
inferior sources of supply, economic rent is paid for the
superior advantage. Any tax imposed on this species of
revenue falls on the owner. If levied in the first instance
from the lessee, he will pay so much less rent,and any new
taxes imposed during the currency of leases ought, if
intended to fall on the owner, to be taken directly from
him. It may be assumed that every owner of a superior
source has exacted the highest price obtainable for its use,
so that he cannot transfer the tax to the tenant, nor
through the, tenant to the consumer. If, for example, a
tax is imposed ou the economic rent of agricultural land,
the landlord cannot exact it from the tenant (for if the
tenant could, afford more rent, why -under competition was
he not forced to do so before?) nor from the consumer of
the produce, fur the price is obviously determined inde-
pendently of rent. Similarly a tax on the ground rent of
houses, if it be assumed that the land is useless for other
purposes, must fall on the owners ; although a certain
portion will be transferred to the occupier if the landlord
could use it otherwise and escape the tax (cf. Mill, bk. v.
ch. iii. §6). Taxes on economic rent of various kinds, stf,
heavy as to absorb the whole amount, have been advocated
by some theorists on grounds noticed under Adam Smith's
first canon. It is said they would impose no burden on
the state as a whole, that they would not affect production
or accumulation, and even that the substitution of the
state for private owners — who are simply luiti ccmsionen
fruges — would really increase the wealth and power of
the cation by compelling these unproductive consumers
to work, and by lightening the pressure of taxation on
industry. -It is, however, obvious that thac6nSscation of
rent would, seeing that land has for generations been in
the circle of exchangeable commodities, strike at the roots
of the institution of private property. Apart from this
general objection, there would in the case of agricultural
land be great difficulty in separating economic from profit
rent, and any exceptional tax on the latter would obviously,
teed to check agricultural improvements.
Taxes on Profits.- — Profits, as commonly used, is a term Taxes on
embracing three elements which, from an economic and V>^^^-
financial point of view, are quite distinct in character, viz.,
interest (pure and simple), insurance against risk, and
earnings of management. The interest on capital in any
industrial area, lent on the same security, tends to equality,'
If, then, a tax is imposed on interest in every form, the
incidence'. in the first place will be on the owners of cap-^
ita!. But two indirect consequences will follow. (1) As
Adam Smith remarks, " the proprietor of stock is properly
a citizen of the world, and is not necessarily attached
to any particular country. He would be apt to abandon
the country in which he was exposed to a vexatious
inquisition in order to be assessed to a burdensome tax,
and would remove his stock to some other country, where
he could either carry on his business or enjoy his fortune
more at his ease." In this case the ultimate result would
be that the country in which the tax was imposed would
possess less capital, and thus would yield ahigher rale of
interest sufficient to counterbalance the burden of the tax.
(2) The tax would tend to check the accumulation of
capital within the country, so far as the interest received
is a cause of -accumulation, with the same ultimate result
as in thQ former case. It must, however, be observed
that the rate ot interest is only one of the causes affecting
the accumulation of capital.
A tax on some particular form of interest (security still
being supposed perfect), for example on raoitgages on land,
would obviously fall on the borrowers. In the same way
a tax on that part of the profit rent of houses which is
interest on capital tends to fall on the occupier. In gene
ral, however, the security is more or less imperfect, and
the insurance against risk is allowed for in the rato oi
k
88
TAXATION
interest charged 00 borrowed capital. Thus a tax which I
took equal percentages .'rom all species of interest would
be in part a tax oo insurance against risk, and the
teudeucy must be for such a tax to fall on the borrowers
of capital. Suppose at any time a perfect security yields
3 per cent, and one with greater risk 6 per cent., then 3
per cent, represents the estimated value of the insurance
against risk. A tax which reduces the net yield on the
first to -2 per cent, would reduce the net yield on the
latter to 4 per cent In order, then, for the insurance
against risk to remain the same, the rate yielded by the
latter must rise from 6 to 7^ per cent. It follows, then,
that a tax levied on all forms of inter^t (no allowance
being made for risk) would tend to check investment in
proportion as risk was involved, and would thus check
industrial enterprise. This result would foJlpw even
although the rate of interest on perfect security, owing to
the causes mentioned above, were raised in proportion to
the tax
A tax on that part of profits known as earnings of
management would, if imposed generally, fall in the first
instance on the encepreneurs or employers of capital, and
with similar indirect consequences to those just noticed
in regard to interest. -Capital would tend to flow abroad,
and accumulation would be checked, since in general the
employers of capital are also to a large extent the owners.
So far as profits, in this sense, are of the nature of rent (a
view recently advocated as regards all profits by Prof.
Walker), a tax on profits would be analogous to a tax on
rent. If the differences in the net advantages of diflerent
methods of employing capital are supposed to remain
i-onstant (according to Prof. Marshall's view of earnings of
management), a proportional tax on profits must be in
part transferred to the consumers of the articles produced,
in the same way as a tax on interest with risk was shown
K) fall on the borrower. It will be seen from this general
survey that the incidence and efi'ects of a tax on profits
(taking bhe term n its common acceptation without
analysis) are extremely difficult to determine, and the
practical difficulty is still greater than the theoretical.
For, as M'Culloch and others have shown, profits are
ulways fluctuating and diSicult to estimate. So great,
for example, is this difliculty felt to be as regards farmers'
profits that m the income tax it is assumed that such
profits bear a certain proportion to the rent paid for land
on a purely empirical rule, which may happen to hit the
mark in a majority of cases, but is much more Likely to be
unequal and unjust m its operation.
A tax on some particular form of profits (a.s distinct
from a general tax on profits) will, it is generally said, fall
on the consumer of the article produced, on the ground of
the tendency of profits to equality. This view will be
noticed below under taxes on consumable commodities,
vw iin' Taxei un Capital. — In early English history taxes
SBpitiii upon capital of a very simple kind played an important
part. A. grant, for example, of certain fractional parts of
movables, commencing with me famous Saladin tithe (on
both rent and movables) in IISS, and gradually settling
down to a fifteenth for the counties and a tenth for the
towns, prevailed for more than three centui.es. In 1334
a fifteenth and tenth was fi.\ed at a certain sum for each
township, and after this date a grant of one or more
"fifteenths and tenths" meant simply a grant according
to the scale thee fixed (Dowell, vol. iii-. p. 75). But in
our own times taxes on capital are levied principally when
property changes hands, and may be divided, as they are
b> Adam Smith, according as they are levied when pro-
perty passes (a) from the dead to the living, (6) from the
living to the living.
It IS obvious, as regards iucidenue, that taxes of the
first class (a) are the most direct of all taxes, in the sense
that they cannot be transferred to other persons by the
benericiarie.s The principal difficulties connected with the
" death duties," as they are often called, arise in connexion
with the canon of equality of taxation. Opinion is still
divided on the proportions which ought to be paid by
personal and real estate respectively, as well ai on the
advisability of the taxes being made progressive according
to the value of the property, and there are atiU greater
difficulties in connexion with life interests in settl'.'d pro
perty. Mill was strongly in favour of making the death
duties very heavy and also graduated. " I conceive," he
says (Pol. £c(m., bk. v ch, 11. 5 3), " that inheritances and
legacies exceeding a certain amount are highly proper
subjects for taxation, and that the revenue from these
should be made as great as it can be made without giving
rise to evasions by donation during life, or concealment
of property, auch as it would he impossible adequately to
check. The principle of graduation, that is, of levying
a larger percentage on a largei suni. though its applica-
tion to general taxation would be 111 my opinion objec-
tionable, seems to me both just and 'xpedient as applied
to legacy and inheritance duties. ' The principal objec-
tions urged against such taxation are, that a stimulus
would be given to personal extravagance and a check
placed on accumulation, aud that in consequence indirect
production would be lessened, partly by want of capital
and partly by the check placed on production on a
large scale. As regards the want of capital, apart from
the check placed on saving, there would be a tend-
ency to send it abroad A heavy tax on large capitals
at home will place a premium on investments abroad,
m which evasion would be easy. Perhaps, with the
present rate of accumulation, the objection may be
made light of, as it is by Mill , but the second, if
less obvious, is more important. All our great staple
manufactures are necessarily conducted on a large scale,
and in many respects also large agricultural capitals are
most productive In nanufactures, as a rule, the larger
the scale of operations the more extended will be the
division of labour in production, and the greater the
facilities for ready sale in foreign markets. Of all the
causes which contribute to our commercial prosperity,
perhaps the most important is the large scale on which
our operations are cocducted. We are able to employ
machinery where the foreigner, working on a smaller
scale, 13 obliged to use manual labour. There can be
little doubt that graduated taxation, even on the modi-
fied form proposed by Mill, would tend to check produc-
tion on a large scale. Indirectly it might aruficially foster
joint-stock companies. (A) Taxes on the transference of
property from the living to the living cannot, as Adam
Smith points out, be very easily taken directly, as such
transactions for the most part actually are or might be
secret. This has led to the invention of stamp and regis-
tration duties. The penalty of invalidity attaching to
unstamped documents of various kinds has proved a very
effective deterrent to eva-MOn. A tax on sales will vary
in its incidence according to the nature of the commodity
and the degree of competition or monopoly (c/. H. Sidg-
wick s Pnjtci/ilea u/ Pot Ecun., bk 11. ch. x.). • The most
important case is that of taxes on the transfer of lai.d
Tlieoieticrilly it seems that, just as the fanner who takes
laod Oil rent offers more or less rent according to the
burdens imposed on the land by rates, ic, so the
ptirchuscr of land will consider any expenses connected
with it.'i acquisition a.-- part of the capital value, and thue
any taxes on transfer v\ ill really fall on the sellers. K,
however, the taxes are imposed in such a way as to fall
less heavily ou hiud when sold in larjjer than in small
T A X — T A X
89
■quantities, it is clear that the tendency will be for the
differential portion of thb tax at least to fall on the
purchaser of a small amount , and practically at present
this feature is characteristic of the Eiigljsh system! A
tax en the transfer of stocks and shares is generally held
to fall on the seller, as in case of repeal he would obtain
30 much more ; but in this case the same considerations
npply as in the case of interest noticed above. A curious
example of legal evasion is furnished by, time-bargains ; and
the imposition 6f the tax directly on the contracts of sale,
instead of as at present on the actual transfer, has_been
strongly urged.'^
TaMs on Tajres on Wagesr^Xt is clear^fhat the" treat ment'of
wages..
Capita-
tion
taxes.
Taxes
oa con-,
nunaMf
COIHTUO;
Jities.
taxes on wages will depend on tha general view taken of
the determination of the rate of wages. 'Adam Smith
appears to lay undue stress on the price of provisions, and
to think that in most cases taxes on wages must fall on
the employer of labour (bk. v. ch. ii. art. iii.). There seems,
however, to be no sufficient reason why a tax on labour
should be transferred to the employer, except in the case
where the wages are really at a minimum below which
the supply of efficient labour could not be kept up. Even
in this case, as Prof. Walker shows, there would probably
be a degradation of labour before the rise in wages was
effected. Certainly no practical statesman at the present
time would venture to propose a direct tax; on wages,
under the idea that it would be transferred to the em-
ployer. In Germany it was found necessary to abandon
the system, owing to the hardship inflicted on the poor.
At any rate, in all cases in which the rate of wages is
above the " necessary " minimum, a tax on wages must
fall on the labourer. A differential tax on some particular
species of employment would, unless it partook of the
'nature of a monopoly, tend to fall on the consumer of the
article produced or the person who enjoys the service
rendered. '; In every case, speaking generally, the incidence
of the tax will depend on the conditions of the demand
and supply of the labour in question, and no further
analysis can be given without entering intothe_ general
principles governing wages. See Wages. .,
: Capitation faxes are chiefly of interest historically, as
illustrated in England by the poll-taxes imposed at various
times. p The income tax as at present levied is in reality
not a single uniform tax, as might at first sight appear,
but a tax on the various species of rent, interest, profits,
and wages. ' The anomalies which arise from practically
taking income as uniform have often been pointed out and
acknowledged, but the authority of Mr Gladstone may be
quoted in support of the view that the practical difficulties
in the way of a readjustment more in accordance with theo-
retical principles are insuperable. The objections noted
above to a graduated property tax apply, mutatis mvtandis,
to a graduated income tax, which appears, however, to find
increasing favour on the Continent. A full discussion of
the anomalies of the income tax would involve a repetition
of the analysis of the taxes on the various species of income.
^ Taxes on Commodities. — The general principles appli-
cable ir. Ihis case are that, where production takes place-
under free competition, the tax will, owing to the tendency
of profits to equality, be transferred to the consumer, bu.t
that, when the article is practically monopolized, a tax must
fall on the monopolist, on the assumption that he has
already fixed such a price for the article as will, consider-
ing the law of demand and the expenses of production,
yield him a maximum revenue. The practical difficulties
connected with thft^ssumption of equality of profits have
been well exposed by Cliffe Leslie {Financial Reform:
Qobden Club Essays, 2d series, 1871-72).
Xhs incidence of export and import duties is peculiarly
diffi^t^t to ascertaip even theoretically. The prevailing
23—6*
opinion that an 'import, duty necessarily^ falls oii the
con.<umer of the import necessarily involves as its couiitcr-
part the position that an export duty must fall on the
consumer of the export. If the latter view is upheld it is
curious that export duties find such little favour witli
practical statesmen. It is clear, however, that the real inciA
dence of export anti import duties will depend partly on
the conditions of production in various countries, partly
on the variations in demand due to changes in price, partly
on the indirect 'influence on the general balance of trade,'
and partly on the possibility of using substitutes for the
article taxed (<■/. H. Sidgwick's Prmi-iples of Vol. .ffiofi.,'
bk. iii. ch. v. ; Cournot, Revue Sommaire dfs Doctrines
£conomiques, sects. 5 and 6). A fuller examination is
not possible in the limits assigned to this article. In con-
clusion, it may be pointed out that a thorough investigation
of the general principles of taxation must presuppose tbe
principles of political philosophy, whilst a full inquiry into
the incidence of particular species of taxes must pre-i
suppose the principles of politicabeconomy. (J. s. Nf.)
TAXIDERMY, the art of preserving the integumentj
together with the scales, feathers, or fur, of animals.'
Little is known of the beginnings of the practice of the
"Stuffing" or "setting up" of animals for ornament or for,
scientific purposes ; and it is highly probable, from .what
we gather from old works of travel or natural history, that
the art is not more than some three hundred years old. It
was practised in England towards the end of the 17th
century, as is proved by the Sloane collection, which in
1725 formed the nucleus of the collection of natural history
now lodged in the galleries at South Kensington..
It was not until the middle of last century that any
treatise devoted to the principles of the then little under-
stood art was published in France, Reaumur's treatise^
(1749) being probably the first. This was followed at
intervals by others in France and Germany, until the be-j
ginning of the present century, when the English began
to move in the matter, and several works were published,'
notably those by E. Donovan,^ W. Swainson,'' Capt. Thomas
Brown,^ and others. These works, however, are now in-j
adequate; and since the Great E.xhibition of 1851, when
the Germans and French taught British taxidermists the
rudiments of scientific treatment of natural objects, several
works have appeared upon the subject from the pens of
American and English authors, such as_J._H.J3atty,^ R.^
Ward,^ and Montagu Browne.^ ._
The first principle governing the'art is that, after the
specimen has been procured, in as fresh and clean a state
as may be, it should have the skin stripped from the body
in such a manner as not to disturb the scales if a fish or
a reptile, the feathers if a bird, or the fur or hair if a
mammal. To do this correctly requires a small stock of
tools, as well as a great amount of patience and perj
severance. The appliances comprise several sharp knives
(some pointed and some obtuse), a pair of scissors, a pair
of pliers, a. pair of nippers or "cutting-pliers," some tow,'
wadding, needles and thread, also a " stuffing-iron," some
crooked awls, a pair of fine long flat-nosed pliers, and a
camel-hair brush. The preservative compound is often the
original (Becoeur's) "arsenical soap," made by cutting up
■ and boiling 2 tt) of white soap, to which 12 oz. of salt of.
tartar and 4 oz. of powdered lime (or whiting) are added
^ Instruciions for Collecting and Preserving Varimis Subjects ofj
NatiLToX History, London, 1794.
^ 27i« Naturalist's Qui de for Collecctng and Preserving Subjects o/^
Natural History and Botany, London, 18?2.
^ Taxidermist's Manual, Glasgow, 1833.
* Practical Taxidermy and Home Decoration', .New YorR, 1S8U.
" Spcrrlsmav.' s Handbook of Practical Collecting and Preservingi^
London, 18801
• Pi-aciical Taxidermy, London, 1879 , 2d edition, 1834.
Otxm. — ^la
90
TAXIDEEMY
>Iieii dissolved ; to this mixture, when nearly cold, 2 lb
of powdered arsenic and 5 oz. of camphor (the latter pre-
\'«ously triturated in a mortar with spirits of wine) are
added. The mixture is put away in small jars or pots for
Use. Like all arsenical preparations, this is exceedingly
(dangerous in the hands of unskilled persons, often causing
jshortness of breath, sores, brittleness of the nails, and other
jsymptoms ; and, as arsenic is really no protection against
the attacks of insects, an efficient substitute has been in-
Vented by Browne, composed of 1 lb of white curd soap and
3 tt>-of whiting boiled together, to which is added, whilst hot,
li oz. of chloride of lime, and, when cold, 1 oz. of tincture
of musk. This mixture is perfectly safe to use when cold
(although when hot the fumes should not be inhaled,
pwing^to the chlorine given off), and is spoken of as doing
$ia work efficiently. Solatipna'. of. corrosive sublimate,
(bften recommended, are,'B.v6aif -efiScient, dangerous in the
(extreme. Povrders consisting of tannin, pepper, camphor,
fend burnt alum are sometimes used for." making skins,"
lut they "dry ■ them too rapidly for the purposes of
"' mounting." Mammals are best preserved by a mixture
■of 1 S) of burnt alum to -J 3b of saltpetre; this,. when
Jntimately mi^ed, should be well rubbed into the skin.
IFishes and reptiles, when not cast and modelled, are best
preserved in rectified spirits of vnne ; but this, when eco-
nomy is desired, can be replaced by " Moller's solution "
^bichromate of potash 2 oz., sulphate of soda 1 oz., dis-
tilled water 3 pints) or by a nearly saturated solution of
pblorider of zinc,^ The "cleaning of feathers and furs is
perforri^d, by rubbing them lightly with wadding soaked
in benzoljne, afterwards dusting on plaster of Paris, which
is beaten; out, when dry, with a bunch of feathers.
The pi'eparation and mounting of bird specimens, tie objects
taost usually selected by the amateur, are performed in the follow-
ing manner. • The specimen to be operated npon should have its
'Xostrils and throat closed by .plugs of cotton wool or tow; both
Kv'ing-bones should be broken close to the body, and the bird laid
.upon a table on its back ; and, as birds — especially white-breasted
ones — should seldom, if ever, be opened on the breast^ an incision
should be raado in the skin under the wing on the side most
damaged, from which the thigh protrudes when pushed up
slightly ; this is cut through at its junction with the body, when
the knife is gently.used to separate the skin from this, until the-
.wing-bone is seen on the open .side. .This is then cut through by
scissors, and by careful manipulation the skin is further freed from
'the back and breast until the neck can be cut off The other side
jiow remains to be dealt wth ; from this the wing is cut by
travelling downwards, the remaining leg is cut away, and verv
careful skinning over the stomach and upon the lower back brings
the operator to the taU, which is cnt off, leaving a small portion
of the bone (the coccyx) in the skin. The body now falls off, and
nothing remains in the skin but the neck and head. To skin these
out properly witTiout unduly stretching the integument, is a task
trj'ing to the patience, but it can bo accomplished by gradually
."working the skin away from the back of the head forward, taking
caro to avoid. tutting the eyes or the eyelids, but, by ca.utious
management, to cut the membranous skin over those parts, so that
the eyes are casUy extracted from the orbits without bursting.
The skin should bo freed down nearly to the beak, and then the
back of the he.-(d', with neck attached, should be cut off, the brains
extracted, all the flesh cleared from the skull and from the bones of
jthe wings, legs, and tail, the skin painted with the preservative, and
Ultimately turned into its proper position. When '.'skins" only
are to be made for the cabinet, it is suflicientto fill the head and
Jjeck with chopped tow, the body with a false one made of tow,
lightly packed or loose according to the genius of the preparer, to
flew up the skin of the stomach, and to place a band of paper
lightly pinned around the body over the breast and wings, and.
allow it to remain in a warm position, free from dust, for several
days or weeks, according to the size ^of the specimen. It should
Ithen be labelled mth. name, sex, locality, and date, and put away
^th insect powder around it.
f When, however, the specimen is to bo "mounted," the opera-
lions 8ho(i)d be carried up to the pointof returning the skin, and
l^ien.a false body of tightly wrapped tow is made upon a wire
jpointed at its upper end. This is inserted through the indsion.
under the wing, the pointe'd end going up the neck and thtough'
t,he skull to (hf! outsidot When" the imitation body rests witliin
llie-»kin, pointed wires arejthrust through tha soles of the feet, up
the skin of the back of the legs, and are finally clenclied in tka
body. Wires are also thrust into the butts of the wings, follow-
ing.the skiu of the under surface, and also clenched through into
the body. A stand or perch is provided, and the bird, being
fixed upon this, is, after the eyes have been inserted, arranged
in the- most natural attitude which the skill of the taxidermist can
give it.
Mammals are cut along the stomach from nearly the middle t^
tlie brc.ist, and are skinned by working out the 'hind legs first,'
cutting them off under the skin at the junction of the femur with
the tibi.a, and carefully stripping the skin off the lower back and
front until the tail is reached, the flesh and bones of which are
pulled out of the skin, leaving the operator free to follow on up the
back and chest until the fore legs are reached, which are cut off
iu like manner. The neck and head are skinned out do\vn to the
inner edges of the lips and nose, great care being exercised not to
cut the outer portions of the ears, the eyelids, the nose, or the lips.
The flesh being cleared off, and the brain" and eyes extracted, the
skull should adhere to the skin by the inner edges of the lips. All
the flesh should be trimmed from the bones of the legs. The head,
being shaped, where the flesh was. removed, by tow and clay, is
returned into the skin. A long wire of sutficient strength is
tightly bound with tow, making a long, narrow body, through
which wires are thrust by the skin of the soles of the feet The
le.g wires and bones being wrapped with tow and clay into shape,
the points of the wires are pushed through the tow body and
clencned. They and the body are then bent into the desired posi-.
tion, and modelled up by the addition of more tow and clay, until
the contours of the natural body are imitated, when the stomach
is sewn up. A board is provided upon which to fix the specimen,
artificial eyes are inserted, the lips, nose, and eyelids fixed by
means of pins or "needle-points." and the. specimen^ is then placed
in a warm situation to dry.
Reptiles, when small, have their skin removed by cutting away
the attachment of the skull to the cervical vertebrs, and by tum-
' ing the decapitated trunk out at the mouth by delicate manipula-
tion. "When large, they are cut along their median line, and
treated in the same manner as mammals.
Fishes, after being covered on their best side with paper oi
muslin to protect the scales, are cut along the other side from the
tail to the gills, and are skinned out by removing "cutlets," as
large as is possible without cracking the skin, which, indeed,i
should be kept damp during work. After being cured with a pre-
servative, they are filled with sawdnst or dry plaster of Paris, sewn
up, turned over on a board, the fins pinned out, and the mouth
adjusted, and, when perfectly dry, the plaster may be shaken out.
A new school of taxidermists, with new methods, whose
aim is to combine knowledge of anatomy and modelling
^^ith taxidermic technique, are now coining to the front,
and the next generation will discard all processes of
" stuffing " in favour of modelling. Within the limits of
an article like the present it is impossible to do more than
glance at the intricate processes involved in this. In the
case of mammals, after the skin has been completely
removed, even to the toes, a copy is made of the body,
posed as in life, and frcn this" an accurate representation
of form, including delineation of muscles, &c., is built up
in light materials; the m'odel is then covered with the
skin, which is damped, and pinned in to follow every
depression and prominence ; the study is then suffered to
dry ; and, models having been made, in the case of large
animals, of the mucous membrane of the jaws, palate,
tongue, and lips, these are truthfully reproduced in a
plastic material. The ordinary glass eyes are discarded,'
and hoUow globes, specially made, are hand-painted from
nature, and are fixed in the head so as to convey the exact'
expression which the pose of the body demands. Birds,
if of any size, can be modelled in like manner, and fishes
are treated by a nearly identical process, being finally
coloured as in a " still life " painting.
To give a life-like representation, attention is also paid
to artistic " mounting." By this is meant the surrounding
of specimens with appropriate accessories, and it is well
exemplified by the new work shown in the natural history
"museum at South Kensington, where, for example, birds
AreJirranged as in a state of nature, feeding or fljnng to
their' young, sitting on their eggs, swimming in miniature
pools, or preening their feathers whilst perched lovingly
side by side, and Kiirrounded by exquisitely modelled
T A X — T A Y
91
foliage and flowers. This, with correct modelling of the
specimens, which, except in rare instances, is not quite so
striking in the new groups, indicates the future of the art,
the hope of which lies in the better education of taxi-
dermists as designers, artists, and modellers. (m. b.)
T.A.XILA. See Rawal Pi.ndi.
TAY, The, the longest river in Scotland, has its source
on the northern side of Ben Lui, on the borders of Argyll-
shire and Perthshire, being known in its earlier course as
the Fillan, and, after forming Loch Dochart, as the Dochart,
until entering Loch Tay, 25 miles from its source, at an
•elevation above sea-level of 553 feet. Its course through
Perthshire is described in the article on that county. Its
total length to the town of Perth is about 05 miles, and
it drains a total area of about 2400 square miles, while its
estuary extends for about other 25 miles. The navigation
of the estuary is somewhat impeded by sandbanks. The
only important port is Dundee, but vessels of 100 tons
can pass up to Perth, the river being tidal to 2 miles above
it. The salmon fisheries on the river and its estuary are
among the most valuable in Scotland. A railway bridge
over the Tay at Dundee, designed by Sir Thomais Bouch
(see Bridges, vol. iv. p. 340), was opened for traffic 31st
May 1878, but was blown down during the crossing of a
passenger tram 2Sth December 1879. Some distance to
the west a new bridge, designed by W. H. Barlow, was
commenced in 1882, and was opened for general traffic
20th June 1887.
TAYLOR, Bayakd (1825-1878), one of the most pro-
lific among American authors, was born at Kennett Square
io Chester county, Pennsylvania, on January 25, 1825.
The son of a well-to-do farmer, he received bis early in-
struction "i an academy at West Chester, and, later, at
Unicnville. At the age of seventeen he was apprenticed
to a printer in West Chester. A little volume, published
in 1844 under the title Ximena, or the Battle of the Sierra
iforena, and other Poems, brought its author a little cash ;
and indirectly it did him better service as the means of
his introduction to The New York Tribuw. With thiJ^
money thus obtained, and with an advance made to him
on account of some journalistic work to be done in Europe,
" J. B. Taylor " (as he had up to this time signed himself,
though he bore no other Christian name than Bayard) set
sail for the East. The young poet spent a happy time
in roaming through certain districts of England, France,
Germany, and Italy ; that he was a born traveller is
evident from the fact that this pedestrian tour of almost
two years cost him only £100. The graphic accounts
which he sent from Europe to The New York Tribune,
The Saturday Evening Post, and The United States Gazette
were so highly appreciated that on Taylor's return to
America he was advised to throw his articles into book
form. In 1846, accordingly, appeared his Views Afoot, or
Europe seen with Knapsack and Staff. This pleasant book
had considerable popularity, and its author now found
himself a recognized man of letters ; moreover, Horace
Greeley, then editor of the Tribune, placed Taylor on
the staff of that journal, thus securing him a certaja if a
moderate income. His next journey, made when the gold-
fever was at its height, was to California, as correspondent
for the Tribune ; from this expedition he returned by way
of Mexico, and, seeing his opportunity, published (1850)
a highly successftil book of travels, entitled Eldorado, en-
Adventures in the Path of Empire. Ten thousand copies
were said to have been sold in America, and thirty thou-
sand in Great Britain, within a fortnight from the date of
issue. Bayard Taylor always considered himself native to
the East, and it was with great delight that in 1851 he
found himself on the banks of the Nile. He ascended as
far as 12° 30' N. lat., and stored his memory with count-
less sights and delights, to many of which he afterwards
gave e.\'pression in metrical form. From England, towards
the end of 1852, he sailed for Calcutta, proceeding thence
to China, where he joined the expedition of Commodore
Perry to Japan. The results of these journeys (besides
his poetical memorials, to which reference will be after-
wards made) were A Journey to Central Africa, or Life
and Landscapes from E'jypt to the Negro Kingdoms of the
Nile. (1854) ; The Land of the Saracens, or Pictures of
Palestine, Afin Mim/r, Sicily, and Spam (1854); and A
Visit to India, China, and Jopnn tn the Year 1863 (1S55).
On his return (1854) from these various journeyings he
entered, with marked success, upon the career of a public
lecturer, delivering addresses in every town of importance
from Maine to Wisconsin. After two years' experience oi
this lucrative profession, he again started on his travels, on
this occasion for northern Europe, his special object being
the study of Swedish life, language, and literature. The
most noteworthy result was the long narrative poem LarB,
but his " Swedish Letters " to the Tnbune were also re-
published, under the title Northern Travel (1857). In
October 1857 he married Maria Hansen, the daughter of
the well kcown German astronomer. The ensuing winter
was spent in Greece. In 1859 Taylor once more traversed
the whole extent of the western American gold region, the
primary cause of the journey lying in an invitation to
lecture at San Francisco. About three years later he
entered the diplomatic service as secretary of legation at St
Petersburg, and the following year (1863) became charge
d'affaires at the Russian capital. In 1864 he returned to
the United States and resumed his active literary labours,
and it was at this period that Hannah Thurston, the IJrst of
his four novels, was published. This book had a moderate
success, but neither in it nor in its successors did Bayard
Taylor betray any special talent as a novelist : some of his
characters are faithful studies from life, and he could
describe well the aspects of nature, — but a good deal more
than this is necessary for the creation of noteworthy
romances. In 1874 he went to Iceland, to take part in the
ctintenntal celebration which was held in that year. In June
1878 he -was accredited United States minister at Berlin.
Kotwithstanding the resistless passion for travel *-hich
had always possessed him. Bayard Taylor was (when not
actually en route) sedentary in his habits, especially in the
later years of his life , and at Berlin he aggravated a
constitutional liver affection by too sedulous devotion to
literary studies and pursuits, m the intervals of leisure from
his diplomatic duties. His death occurred on the 1 7th of
December, only a few months after his arrival in Berlin.
The mam drawback to the widespread acceptance of Bayard
Taylor's poetry as a whole is its perpetual difTiiseness. His most
ambitious productions — his Masque of the Gods (1872), Prince
Veukalwii (1877), The Pkltm of St John (1865), Lars (1873), and
The Prophet (1874) — are marred by a ceaseless elTort to overstrain
his power. Lars is the least likely of his longer poems to survive
any length of time: it lacks the gi-andiose eloquence and inipressiTB
'* adjuncts " of the Masque or Prince Deukalwn, vhile in theme and
treatment it is, at r^ost, only sedately agreeable. The Poems of
the Orient contains his most genuinely satisfactoi^ poetic m-itings.
But probably long after even the most faraihar of the poems just
mentioned have ceased to be popular, when even the Views Afoot
and Eldorado no longer hold the attention of the numerous public
interested in vividly narrated experiences of travel. Bayard 'Taylor
will b« remembered by his poetic aud e.tcellent translation oi
Faust. Taylor felt, in all trutli, '* the torment and the ecstasy of
verse"; but, as a critical friend has written of him, "his nature
was so ardent, so full-blooded, that slight and common sensations
'ntoxicated him, and he estimated their eUect, and his power to
transmit it to others, beyond the true value." He felt life as
perhaps only tho poetic temperament can expeiicncc ihe beauty nf
the world; single wordii thus became for mm so charged with
poetry that he overlooked the fact that to most people these were,
simply in themselves, mere abstract terms — sunshine, se.i, spring,
morning, night, and so forth. Thus a stanza having absolutely
nothing original or striking or even poetic in it nould, because
92
TAYLOR
born of him, seem to be poetry unadultcrate : to his mind, each
line each word, was charged with deliglitful si^ificance, thcrefom
—so he felt-would be so also to the sympathetic reader. He had,
from the earliest period at which he began to compose, a distinct
lyrical faculty : so keen indeed was his ear that he became too
insistently haunted by the music of others, pre-eminently of
Tennyson. Rut ho had often a truo and fine note of his own.
His best short pocins are "The Metempsychosis of the Pine" and
tlie well known Ccdoum love-sonp!, tho latter a stirring lyric that
ought assuredly to endure. In liis critic.il essays Bayard Taylor
had himself in no inconsiderablu decree what he wrote of as "that
pure imctin insight which is the vital spirit of criticism " The
most valuable of those prose dissertations aic the Studies m German
LitcralUTC.
TAYLOR, Brook (1685- 1731), a distinguished mathe
matician of Newton's school, was the son of John Taylor,
of Bifrons House, Kent, by Olivia, daughter of Sir Nicholas
Tempest, Bart., of Durliara, anj was born at Edmonton
in Middlese.x, August 18, 168.') He entered St John's
College, Cambridge, as a fellow-commoner in 1701, and
took degrees of LLB. and LL D. respectively in 1709 and
1714. Having studied mathematics with apidause under
Machiu and Keill, he obtained in 1708 a remarkable
solution of the problem of the "centre of oscillation,"
whiA, however, remaining unpublished until May 1714
{I'liil. TraiiS; vol. xxviii. p 11), his claim to priority was
unjustly disputed by John Bernoulli. Taylor's Methodus
Incrementorum. Directn et Inversa (London, 1715) added a
new branch to the higher mathematics, now designated the
"calculus of finite differences." Among other ingenious
applications, he used it to determine the form of movement
of a vibrating string, by him first successfully reduced to
mechanical principles. The same work contained (p. 23)
the celebrated formula known as "Taylor's theorem." It
is of extensive use in almost every analytical inquiry ; but
its full importance remained unrecognized until pointed
out in 1772 (Berlin Memoirs) by Lagrange, who later
termed it " le principal frndement du calcul diff^rentiel."
In his essay on Linear Perspective (London, 1715)
Taylor set forth the true principles of the art v\ith much
originality, and in a more general form than any of his
predecessors The little work suffered, however, from the
brevity and obscurity which affected most of his writings,
and needed the elucidation bestowed on it in the treatises
of Joshua Kirby (1754) and Daniel Fournier (1761).
Taylor was elected a fellow of the Royal Society early in
1712, sat in the same year on the committee for adjudi-
cating the claims of Newton and Leibnitz, and acted as
secretary to the society January 13, 1714, to October
21, 1718 During a visit to Paris in 1716 he made
acquaintance with Bossuet and the Comte de Caylus, and
knit a warm friendship with Bolingbroke, whom he visited
at La Source in 1720. From 1715 his studies took
a philosophical and religious bent He corresponded, in
that year, with the Comte de Montmort on the subject
of Malebranche's tenets ; and unfinished treatises, "On the
Jewish Sacrifices " and " On the Lawfulness of Eating
Blood," written on his return from Aix-la-Chapelle in
1719, were afterwards found among his papers. His
marriage in 1721 with Miss Brydges of Wallington,
Surrey, led to an estrangement from his father, a person
of somewhat moro temper, which terminated in 1723
after the death of the lady in giving birth to a son The
enswing two years were spent by him with his family at
Bifrons, and in 1725 he married, with the paternal appro-
bation, Sabetta, daughter of Mr Sawbridge of Olantigh,
Kent, who, by a strange fatality, died also in childbed in
1730; in this case, however, the infant, a daughter,
survived. Weighed down by repeated sorrows, Taylor's
fragile health gave way , he fell into a decline, died
December 29, 1731, at Somerset House, and was buried
at St Ann's, Soho By his father's death in 1729 he
had inherited the Bifrons estate. Socially as well as fiT<
tell&tually gifted, he possessed a handsome person and
engaging manners, and was accomplished to an uncommon
degree in music and painting. As a mathematician, he was
the only Englishman after Newton and Cotes capable of
holding his own with the Bernoullis ; but a great part of
the effect of his demonstrations was lost through bis failure
to express his ideas fully and clearly.
A posthumous work entitled Contemptatio Philosophica was
printed for private circulation in 1793 by his grandson. Sir William
Young, Bart, prefaced by a life of the author, and with an appendix
containing letters addressed to him by Boliogbioke, Bossuet, &c
Several short papers by him were published in PhU. Trans., vols,
xxvii. to xxxii , including accounts of some interesting experiments
lu magnetism and capillary attraction He issued in 1719 an
improved version of his work on perspective, with the title New
ProicipUs of Linear Perspective, revised by Colsoii in 1749, and
printed again, with portrait and life of the author, in 1811 A
French translation appeared lu 1753 at Lyons. Taylor gave {Me-
thodus Incrementorum, f. 108) the first satisfactory investigation of
astronomical refraction
See Watt, Bibliolheta Uruamiica ; Hutton, P/itl and Math Dtcltonanj , F6ti&,
Bto<j des Musician, Tli Tliomson, Hist of the R, Societt/, p 302, Granc Hist
Phys Astronomy, p. 377; Marie. Hist, da Sciences, vil p 231
TA'VLOR, Sir Henry (1800-1886), poet and colonial
statesman, was born October 18, 1800, at Bishop-Mid-
dleham, in the county of Durham His ancestors had
been small landowners for some generations, and both his
studious father, who late in life emerged for a time from a
recluse existence to make an efficient secretary to the Poor
Law Commission, and his original warm-hearted mother
were interesting persons. His mother died while he was-
yet an infant, and he was chiefly educated by his father,
who, finding him less quick and deeming him less intel-
ligent than his two elder brothers, allowed him to go to
sea as a midshipmaa Eight months summed up his
naval career , it had taken much less to disgust him
with it After obtaining his discharge he was appointed
to a clerkship in the storekeeper's oflice, and had scarcely
entered upon his duties ere he was attacked by typhus
fever, which carried off both his brothers, then living with
him in London. In three or four years more his office was
aboli.shed while he was on duty in the West Indies. On
his return he found his father happily married to a lady
whose interest and sympathy proved of priceless value to
him. Through her he became acquainted with her cousin
Isabella Fenwick, the neighbour and intimate friend of
Wordsworth, who introduced him to Wordsworth and
Southey Under these influences he lost his early admira-
tion for Byron, whose school, whatever its merits, he at
least was in no way calculated to adorn, and his intel-
lectual powers developed rapidly. In October 1822 are
article from his pen on Moore's Irish Melodies appeared
in the Quarterly Rem^w A year later he departed for
London to seek his fortune as a man of letters, and met
with such rapid success, though not precisely in thia
capacity, as has but rarely attended an unknown young
man He became editor of the lyOndon Magazine, to
which he had already contributed, and in January 1824
obtained, through the influence of Sir Henry Holland, an
appointment in the Colonial Office, insuring him, not only
an ample salary, but considerable influence in this depart
ment of public affairs The general standard of the offico
was probably at that time low ; at all events Taylor was
immediately entrusted with the preparation of confidential
state papers, and his opinion soon exercised an important
influence on the decisions of the secretary of state. He
visited Wordsworth and Southey, travelled on the Con-
tinent with the latter, and at the same time, mainly
through his friend and official colleague, the Hon. Hyde
Villiers, became intimate with a very different set, the
younger followers of Bentham, without, however, adopting
their opinions, — " young men," he afterwards renjinded
{
TAYLOR
93
Stuart Miil, "who every one said would be ruined by
their independence, but who ended by obtaining alJ their
hearts' desires, except one who fell by the way." The
reference is to Hyde Villiers, who died prematurely, and
for whose sister, afterwards Lady Theresa Lewis, Taylor
was an unsuccessful suitor. He actively promoted the
emancipation of the slaves in 1833, and became an in-
timate aUy of Sir James Stephen, then counsel to the
Colonial Office, afterwards uuder-secretary, by whom the
Act of Emancipation was principally framed. His first
drama, haac Comnenns, was published anonymously in
1827. Though highly praised by Southey, it made little
impression on the public. Philip van Arteveld^ lie sub-
ject of which had been recommended to him by Southey,
was begun in 1828, published in 1834, and, aided by a
laudatory criticism from Lockhart's pen, achieved extra-
ordinary success. Edwin the Fair (1842) was less warmly
received. In the interim he had married (1839) the
daughter of his former chief Lord Monteagle, and, ia con-
j'utnction with Stephen, had taken a leading part in the
tbolition of negro apprenticeship in the West Indies. The
Statesman, a volume of essays suggested by his official
position, had been published in 1836, and about the same
time he had Nvritten in the Quarterly the friendly adver-
tisements of Wordsworth and Southey, subsequently pub-
lished under the somewhat misleading title of Noi&sfrom
Pooh. In 1847 he was otfered the under-secretaryship of
state, which he declined. Notes from Life and The Eve of
the Conquest appeared in this year, and Notes from Books
in 1849. An experiment in romantic comedy. The Virgin
Widow, afterwards entitled A Sicilian Summer, was pub-
lished in 1850. "The pleasantest play I had WTitten,"
says the author ; " and I never could tell why people would
not be pleased with it." His last dramatic work was St
Clenu/ifs Eve, published in 1862. In 1869 he was made
K.C.M.G. He retired from the Colonial Office in 1872,
though continuing to be consulted by Government. His
last days were spent at Bournemouth in the enjoyment of
universal respect ; and the public, to whom he had hitherto
been an almost impersonal existence, became familiarized
with the extreme picturesqueness of his appearance in old
age, as represented in the photographs of his friend Mrs
Cameron. He died on March 27, 1886.
Sir Henry Taylor is pre-eminently the statesman among English
poets. When ho can speak poetically in this character he is
impressive, almost great ; when he deals with the more prosaic
aspects of policy he is dignified and weighty, without being alto-
gether a poet ; when his theme is entirely unrelated to the conduct
of public affairs or private life he is usually little mora than an
accomplished man of letters. An exception must be made for the
interesting character of Elena in Philip van Artevelde, and for
Arteveldc s early love experience, which reproduces and transfigures
the writer's own. The circumstance of Philip van Artevelde being
to a great extent the vehicle of his own ideas and feelings explains
its great superiority to his other works. It is subjective as well as
objective, and to a certain extent lyrical in feeling, though not in
form. Though more elalwrate than any of his other dramas, it
seems to smell less of the lamp. He has thoroughly identified
himself with his hero, and the only fault to be found with this
noble picture of a consummate leader and statesman is the absence
of the shadow required for a tragic portrait. The blame allotted
to Artevelde is felt to be merely conventional, and the delineation
of uniform excellence becomes monotonous. The hero of Edimn
the Fair, Dunstan, the ecclesiastical statesman, the man of two
worlds, is less sympathetic to the author and less attractive to
the reader. The cnaracter is nevertheless a fine psychological
study, and the play is full of historical if not of dramatic interest,
/sooc Comnen-us is more Elizabethan in tone than his other dramas.
Coinuenus is like a preliminary sketch for Van Artevelde; and the
picture of the Byzantine court and people is exceedingly lively.
The idea of the revival of romantic comedy in The Virgin Widmo
is excellent, but the play lacks the humour which might have
made it a success- The length of the speeches, even when not set
speeches, is a drawback to all these dramas. Taylor's lyrical work
is in general laboriously artificial. It is therefore extraordinary
that he should have produced two songs ("Quoth tongue of neither
maid nor wife" and "If I had the wings of a dove") which it
would hardly bo aa exaggeration to call worthy of Shakespeare.
His character as an essayist repeats his character as a drainatisL
The essays published under the title of The Statcsvian occupy a
peculiar place in literature. They have serious faults, especially
the too obvious imitation of Bacon, but they nevertheless aro
ori^nal in their point of view, and their wisdom is the result of a
dillerent kind of observation from that which qualifies tlie bulk of
essayists on human life. When writing as one of these Taylor is
less removed from the commonplace, though many of his remarks
are admirable. As a literary critic he seems unable to -get beyond
Wordsworth and the select circle of poets admired by tlie latter.
His essays on Wordsworth did much to dispel the conventional
prejudices of the day, but will not advance the study of the poet
where his greatness is already recognized. His strictures on ByroD
and Shelley are narrow and not a little presumptuous. • Presump-
tion, indeed, the last fault to have been expected in so grave and
measured a writer, is one of those of which he most freely accuses
himself in the autobiography published a year before his death.
It is not otherwise apparent in this highly interesting book, which,
sinning a little by the egotism pardonable in a poet and the
garrulity natural to a veteran, is in the main a pleasing and faithful
picture of an aspiring youth, an active matuiity, and a happy and
honoured old age. (R. G.)
TAYLOR, Isaac (1787-1865), a voluminous writer on
philosophical and theological subjects, was born at Laven-
ham, Suffolk, in 1787, and was trained by his father to
be an artist, but early adopted literature as a professiotL
From 1824, the year of his marriage, he lived a busy but
uneventful life at Ongar, in the parish of Stanford Rivers,
Essex, where he died on June 28, 1865.
He early became a contributor to the Ecleclio Review, when it
was conducted by Robert Hall and John Foster, and in 1822 h«
published a small volume entitled EUin^nts of Thought, This wai
ibllowed by a translation of Theophrastus with original etchings,
a History of the Transmission of Ancient Books to Modern Titnes,
Memoirs and Correspondence of Jane Taylor (his sister, who died
in 1824), and a translation of Herodotus. None of these works
attained very great popularity ; but in 1829 he published anony.
mously a work bearing upon the religious and political problems
of the day, entitled Th£ ^'atnral History of Enthusiasm, wnich wa»
eagerly read and speedily ran through eight or nine editions. The
success of this publication encouraged him to produce, also anony.
mously. The Natural History of Fanaticism, Spiritual Despotism.
Saturday Evening, and The Physical Theory of Another Life, all
of which commanded a large circulation. Among his subsequent
works may be mentioned Ancient Christianity, a series of disserta-
tions in reply to the "Tracts for tho Times," a volume entitled
The Restoration of Belief, and a course of lectures on The Spirit of
Hebrew Poetry.
TAYLOR, Jeremy (1613-1667), •was a Dative of Cam-
bridge, and was baptized on the 15th August 1613. His
father, Nathaniel, though a barber, was a man of some
education, respected by his townsmen, and lineally de
scended from Dr Rowland Taylor, Craamer's chaplain, who
suffered martyrdom under Mary. Jeremy, after passing
through the grammar school, was entered at Caius College
as a sizar in 1626, eighteen months after Milton had
entered Christ's, and while George Herbert was public
orator and Edmund Waller and Thomas Fuller were
undergraduates of the university. He was elected a fellow
of his college in 1633, but the best evidence of his
diligence as a student is the enormous learning of which
he showed so easy a command in after years. Accepting
the invitation of Risden, a fellow-student, to supply hia
place for a short time as lecturer in St Paul's, he at once
attracted attention by his remarkable eloquence as well as
by his handsome face and youthful appearanca Arch,
bishop Laud, ever on the outlook for men of capacity, sent
for Taylor to preach before him at Lambeth, and, discern-
ing that his genius was worth fostering, dismissed him
from the overpressure of the metropolis to the quiet of a
fellowship in All Souls, Oxford, and at the same time, by
making him one of his own chaplains, showed his desire
to keep him in permanent conne.xion with himself At
Oxford Chillingworth was then busy wth his great work,
the Religion of Protestants, and it is possible that by
intercourse with him Taylor's mind may have bew turned
94
TAYLOR
towards the liberal movement of his age. After two years
in Oxford, in March 1638 he was presented by Jtixon,
bishop of London, to the rectory of Uppingham, in Rut-
landshire. In the autumn of the same year he was
appointed to preach in St Marys on the anniversary of
the Gunpowder Plot, and apparently used the occasion
to clear himself of a suspicion, wliicb, however, haunted
him through life, of a secret leaning to the Romish com-
munion. This suspicion seems to have arisen chiefly from
his intimacy with Christopher Davenport, better known as
Francis a Sancta Clara, a learned Franciscan friar who
became chaplain to Queen Henrietta , but it may have
been strengthened by his known connexion with Laud, as
well as by his ascetic habits and ritualistic propensities.
More serious consequences followed his attachment to the
Royalist cause, when in 18<t2 the livings of the loyal clergy
were sequestered by decree of parliament. Tbe author of
Episcopacy Asserted against tlie Aerians and Acephali New
and Old, ineffective as that work seems in the light of
modern research, could scarcely hope to retain his parish.
Along with Puller, Chillingworth, and others, he found
temporary refuge with the king at Oxford. His two little
boys must have been cared for by friends, for his wife,
Phoebe Langsdale, whom he had married the year after
his settlement at Uppingham, had died with her third
child in that disastrous year 1642.
During the next fifteen years Taylor's movements are
not easily traced. Sometimes he appears with the king,
from whom at his last interview he received, in token of
his regard, his watch and some jewels which had orna-
mented the ebony case in which he kept his Bible. He
is supposed to bs the Dr Taylor who was taken prisoner
with other Royalists while besieging Cardigan castle. In
1646 he is found in partnership with two other deprived
clergymen, keeping a school at Newton Hall, in the parish
of Llanvihangel. It was while resident hero that he
attracted the friendship of one of his kindest patrons,
Richard Vaughan, earl of Carbery, whose hospitable
mansion. Golden Grove, is immortalized in the title of
Taylor's still popular manual of devotion, and whose
countess had the greater distinction of being the original
of the " Lady " in Milton's Comus. It was also while
resident in Wales that Taylor married his second wife,
Joanna Bridges, who was generally understood to be a
natural daughter of Charles I., and who owned a good
estate, though probably impoverished by Parliamentarian
exactions,, at Mandinam, in Carmarthenshire. From time
to time he appears in London in the company of his
friend Evelyn, at whose table he met such men as Boyle,
Berkeley, and Wilkins. Thrice he was imprisoned : in
1653-4 for a well-intended but injudicious preface to his
Golden Grove ; again in Chepstow castle, from May to
October 1655, on what charge does not appear, and a
third time in the Tower in 1657-8, on account of the
indiscretion of his publisher, Royston, who had adorned
his " Collection of Offices " with a print representing
Christ in the attitude of prayer. This un.settled life, with
its interruptions, harassraents, and privations, would seem
rather to have stimulated than to have stinted the pro-
ductiveness of his genius. In 1647 appeared his most
important work, Tlie Liberty of Prophesying, and in the
following year the complete edition of his Apology for
Authorized and Set Forms of Liturgy against the Pretence
of the Spirit, as well as his Life of Christ, or the Great
Exemplar, a book which at once won a popularity it still
in large measure retains. Then followed in rapid succes-
,8ion the Twenty-seven Sermons, "for the summer half-year,"
and the Tiventy-fivc " for the winter half-year," Holy Living,
Holy Dying, a controversial treatise on the Real Presence,
the Golden Grove, and the Unum N^ecessarivm, which by
its Pelagianism gave great offence. During these years he
was also busy with his Ductor Diibitantium (published in
1660), which he intended to be the standard manual of
casuistry and ethics for the Christian people.
In 1658 settlement was at length reached through the
kind offices of the earl of Carbery, who obtained for
Taylor a lectureship in Lisburn. At first he declined a
post in which the duty was to be shared with a Presby-
terian, or, as he expressed it, " where a Presbyterian and
myself shall be like Castor and Pollux, the one up and
the other down," and to which also a very meagre salary
was attached He was, however, induced to take it, and
found, near his patron's mansion on Lough Neagh, so
congenial a retirement that even after he was raised to
a bishopric he continued to make it his home. At the
Restoration, instead of being recalled to England, as he
probably expected and certainly desired, he was appointed
to the see of Down and Connor, to which was shortly
added the small and adjacent diocese of Dromore. He
was also made a member of the Irish privy council and
vice-chancellor of the university of Dublin. None of
these honours were sinecures. Of the university he writes,
"I found all things in a perfect disorder . a heap
of men and boys, but no body of a college, no one member,
either fellow or scholar, having any legal title to his place,
but thrust in by tyranny or chance." Accordingly lie set
himself vigorously to the task of framing and enforcing
regulations for the admission and conduct of members of
the university, and also of establishing lectureships. His
episcopal labours were still more arduous. There were,
at the date of the Restoration, about seventy Presbyterian
ministers in the north of Ireland, and most of these were
from the west of Scotland, and were imbued with the dis-
like of Episcopacy which distinguished the Covenanting
party. No wonder that Taylor, writing to the duke of
Ormonde shortly after his consecration, should have said,
" I perceive myself thrown into a place of torment." His
letters perhaps somewhat exaggerate the danger in which
he lived, but there is no doubt that his authority was
resisted and his overtures rejected. His writings also
were ransacked for matter of accusation against him, "a
committee of Scotch spiders being appointed to see if they
can gather or make poison out of them." Here, then, was
Taylor's opportunity for exemplifying the wise toleration
he had in other days inculcated. These Presbyterians had,
like himself, suffered under Cromwell for their loyalty,
and might have been expected to evoke his sympathy ;
but the new bishop had nothing to offer them but the bare
alternative — submission to episcopal ordination and juris-
diction or deprivation. Consequently, in his first visita-
tion, he declared thirty-six churches vacant ; and of these
forcible possession was taken by his orders. At the same
time many of the gentry were won by his undoubted
sincerity and devotedness as well as by his eloquence.
With the Romanist element of the population he was less
successful. Ignorant of the English language, and firmly
attached to their ancestral forms of worship, they were yet
compelled to attend a service they considered profane,
conducted in a language they could not understand. As
Heber says, " No part of the administration of Ireland by
the English crown has been more extraordinary and more
unfortunate than the system pursued for the introduction
of the Reformed religion." At the instance of the Irish
bishops Taylor undertook his last great work, the Dis-
suasive from Popery (in two parts, 1664 and 1667), but,
as he himself seemed partly conscious, he might have mora
effectually gamed his end by adopting the methods of
Ussher and Bedell, and inducing his clergy to acquire the
Irish tongue.
Nor were domestic sorrows awanting in these later years.
TAYLOR
95
la 1661 he buried, nt.Lisbarn, Edward, the only surviv-
ing son of bis second marriage. His oldest son, an officer
in the'army, was killed in a duel; and his second son,
Charles, intended for the church, left Trinity College and
became companion and secretary to the duke of Bucking-
ham, at whose house he died. The day after his son's
funeral Taylor sickened, and, after a ten days' illness, he
died at Lisburn on the 13th August 1667, in the fiftyjif^h
year of his life and the seventh of his episcopate. '. ^
Taylor's fame has been maintained by the popularity of his
BermoDS and devotional writings rather than by his infliieiice as a
theologian or his importance as an ecclesiastic. . His mind was
neither icientific nor speculative, and he was attracted rather to
questions of casuistry th.m to the deeper problems of pure theology.
His wide reading and capacious memory enabled hirt to carry in
his mind the materials ot"a sound historical theology, but these
materials were unsifted by criticism. His immense learning served
him rather as a storehouse of illustrations, or as an armoury out
of which ha could choose the fittest weapon for discomfiting an
opponent, than as a quarry furnishing him with material for build-
ing up a completely designed and enduring edifice of systematized
truth. Indeed, he had very limited faith in the huni.iu mind as
an instrument of truth. " Theology," he s.iys, " is rather a divine
life than a divine knowledge." His great plea for toleration is
based on the impossibility of erecting theology into a demonstrable
science. " It is impossible all should be of one mind."- And what
is impossible' to be done is not necessary it should be done."
Differences of opinion there must he ; but " heresy is not an error
of the understanding but an cnor of the mil.", His aim in life
was practical ; his interests were in men rather than in ideas, and
his sympathies were evoked rather by the experiences of individuals
than by great moveme«ts. Of a decidedly poetic temperament,
fervid and mobile in f*Ung, ^nd of a prolific fancy, he had also
the sense and wit that come of varied contact with men.* All his
gifte were made available for influencing other men by liis easy
command of a style rarely matched in dignity and colo)ir. With
oU the majesty and stately elaboration and musical 'rhythm of
Milton's finest prose, Taylor's style is relieved and, brightened by
an astonishing variety of felicitous illustrations, ranging from the
most homely and terse to the most dignified and elaborate. His
sermons especially abound in quotations and allusions, which have
the air of spontaneously suggesting themselves, but which must
sometimes have b.iffled his bearers. This seeming pedantry is,
however, atoned for by the clear practical aim of his sermons, the
noble ideal he keeps before his hearers, and the sVill with which
he bandies spiritual experience and urges incentives to virtue.
But, through all his gorgeous eloquence and genial interest in
human nature, there breaks from time to time some dead and
laboured irrelevancy, the growth of his training in ' scholastic
dialectics; for. " like some other writers of the 17th century he
seems almost to have two minds, — one tender, sweet, luxuriant to
excess, the other, hard, subtle,^ formal, prone to definitipn and
logomachy.'" _ _ _
The first collected edition oT'his works was published*by"Bishop
Heber (with a life) in 1822 'reissued^after careful_revision by
Charles Page Eden, 1852-61, ' -^" ' "-(M. "D.) "^
TAYLOR, John (1580-1654), commonly called V The'
Water Poet," was born al Gloucester in August 1580. Of
his parentage and early boyhood very little is known^and
that little is mainly to be gleaned from various scattered
personal allusions in the numerous short writings of this
prolific wit and rhymster. After fulfilling his apprentice-
ship to a waterman, he seems to have served (1596) in- the
fleet under the earl of Esses,' and to have been -present at
the naval attack upon Cadiz.' ■ On his return to England
he took up the trade of Thames waterman, and for a time
at any rate was a colle(;tor of the dues exacted by the
lieutenant of the Tower on all wines destined for London.
The title of " 'Water Poet," which he owes to his occupation
on the river, is a misnopier. Taylor vi^as no poet, though
he could string rhymes together with'-facility ; his wit,
which was vigorous and vulgar, found best expression in
rollicking 'pro'se. He shows a broad sense of rough fun,
occasionally of humour ; but for the most part his comi-
calities wovdd now meet with scanty appreciation. , He
had a very good opinion of himself, his writings, and his
importance; and it was he himself who set forth that he
was the " king's water poet " and the " queen's water-
fiiatLll^ His literary performances can most easily and most
satisfactorily be studied in the handsome quarto, contain-
ing all his productions, edited by Mr C. Hindley, and pub-
lished in 1872. His "works," sixty-threajn number, first
appeared in one large' volume — now a rarity sought after
by collectors — in 1630. / He delighted in eccentric freaks^
calculated in narration to astound both the sober country-
folk and the somewhat sceptical Londoners.'^^^ThuS, with
a companion as feather-brained as himself, he once started
on a voyage from London to Queensborough in a paper
boat, with two stockfish tied to two canes for oars; before
the journey's end was 'reached the frail boat collapsed,
as might have been expected, though a qualified success
finally met Taylor's' efforts." ' The spirit of the bargee-
was, in' him,'" and he delighted in rough give-and-take!; d
rude lanipoon^was one'of his favourite verbal weaponsj
•Thus' Thomas' Coryat, the author of Cnidities, having
excited the literary waterman's ridicule, was rewarded
with, a-ludicrous dedication 'in the production entitled
T.aylor's Travels in Gerwian/e ;' again, ; the "water poet'i
indulged in abusive' satire, to his heart's content' in ait
" effusion "^ which he tailed A Kichey-WirKey, or a Lerry,
Come-Twang — a' literary ''castigationj; which he inflicted
upon those subscribers to a certain .' -(y-ork " of his who>
omitted to' substantiate* theij promises.' This'productioif
was .entitled The_ Penniless Pilgrimage,''or' the Moaeylesi
Pei-amliitlation'ufJolin Taylor,&xi.6. consisted of an account
of" its author's pedestrian tour from London to Edinburgh;
and to' tIiis'w-crk._^sotne' sixteen hundred persons are said
to' have 'promised^, their' support." 'Another wagering ven-
ture ;.was a journey to Prague,' where he is said to have
been "received and entertained by the queen of Bohemia in
1 620. \1yio years later Taylor made "a very merry, Vvherry
ferry voyage, or Yorke for^ my money," and in the ensu-j
ing year another \vater-journey, which he subsequently
described in' proje and verse as A Neio^Discovery by Sea
with a Whef-rij from London to Salisbury."': At the out-
break of the Civil 'War Taylor forsook the river and retired
to Oxford, where he tempted fortune by keeping a'public-
house. His." sympathies.were, wholly with^the^Eoyalists^
— the Roysterists, as he called them once; andj'-n-hen the
town "surrendeired, the ^' water poet " returned to London
and kept a public-house under the sign of The Crown, fn
Phosnix Alley, Long Acre.'., , He incurred some odium from
his loyal^observance of the king's death in the placement
above his door of the sign of The Mourning Crown, and
he was forced to take the latter down. ^With characteristic
readiness he substituted for it his' own portrait, with some
doggerel lines underneath.,,^ It was here that in December
1 654 he died, and in the neighbouring churchyard of St
Martin's-in-the- Fields his remains were laid. '^_ J
At the. most, Taylor can only be called an amusing and vulgarly
clever pamphleteer; he wrote nothing worthy of remembrance save
by the historian of the period in which he lived, by the antiquarj',
and by the enthusiastic student of the many straggling little by-
ways of literature..
. TAYLOR,. Tom (1817-1880),'clramatist'and-art critic,'
was born at Sunderland in 1817." After attending school
there, and studying for two'sessions at Glasgow university,^
he in 1837 entered Trinity College, Cambridge, of ■which
he became a fellow.'. Subsequently he held for two years
the professorship of English literature at "University CoU
lege; London.' He was called to the bar (Middle Temple)!
in November 1845,"and W"ent on the northern. circuit until;
in 1850, he~ became,' assistant secretary" of the Boardj6|
Health. On 'the reconstruction of the board in 1854 Jbe
was made secretary, and on its abolition his services were
transferred to the Local Government Act Office, a depart^
ment of the Home Office created by the Sanitary' Act Tbfi
1866. , In his very early years Tom Taylor showed a prM
dUection for the drama, and was in the habit of performing
dramatic pieces along with a number of children in a loft
96
T A T? — T C H
over a brewer's stable. His first dramatic composition was
a rhjTucd fairy tale or extravaganza, written in conjunction
with Albert Smith and Charles Kenny, and performed in
1846. From this time he wrote for the stage continuously
till the close of his life, his dramatic compositions or
adaptations numbering in all over 100, amongst the best
known of which are Siill Water Buns Deep, Victims, the
Contested Election, the Overland Boute, the Ticket of Leave
Man, Anne Boleyn, and Jioan of Arc. He may perhaps be
regarded as the first dramatist of his time, so far as general
appreciation goes; and, if his chief concern was the con-
struction of a popular acting play, his dramas possess at
the same time considerable literary excellence, while the
characters are clearly and consistently drawn, and the
dialogue is natural, yet nervous and pointed. In his blank.
verse historical dramas, such as Ajine Boleyn, and Joan of
Arc, he was not so Successful. Taylor was also a very
frequent contributor to the light magazine literature of
the day. ' In 1872 he withdrew from public life, and, on
the death of. Shirley Brooks in 1873, he became editor of
Punch. ■ He occasionally appeared ■nith success in amateur
theatricals, more especially in the character of Adam in
'As Yoii Like It and. of Jasper in A S/teep in, Wolf's Clot/i-
ihg. He had some talent for painting, and for many years
Was art critic to the Times. . He died at Lavender Sweep,
Wandsworth, 12th July 18S0.
Apart from the drama, his chief contributions to literatnre are
kis biographies of painters, v\z., Autobiography of B. S. Sa/ydon
(1853); Aulobiogrnphy and Correspondence of C. R. LcslUyR-A.
(■1859); ani Life and Times of Sir Joshita ii^/noMs (1865)VVhich
had been left iu a very incomplete state by Mr LesUe. His Historical
J)ramas appeared in one volume in 1877. He also edited, with i/
tnera'orial preface, Fen Sketches froyn a Fanishcdff and, selected from
J'qpcrs of the late Mortimer Collins.
"-XA.YLOR, Zachaky (1784-1850), president of the
United States, was born in Orange county, Virginia,
November 24, 1784. He entered the army as lieutenant
in 1808, and rose to the rank of major in the war with
Great Britain which followed. At the outbrealc>of the
Mexican War he was in command of the American forces
in Louisiana and Texas, and was directed to make the
advance into the disputed territory which brought on the
war. Beating the Mexicans in two battles, he followed
them into Mexico, and there defeated Santa Anna in the
crowning battle of his campaign, Buena Vista (1847).
Dissatisfied with his treatment by the administration, he
re.signed and returned to the United States, where the
Whig party nominated him and elected him president
(1848). The struggle over the question of the admission
of slavery to the territory taken from Mexico occupied his
terra of office, and he died at Washington, July 9, 1850.
TCHAD, TsAD, or Chad, Lake. See Africa. voL L p.
255, and Soudan.
TCHEREMISSES, or Cheremisses.^ See FofLAlfD,
vol. ix. p. 219, and Russia, vol x.xi. pp. 79-80.
TCHERKASY (Polish Czerkasy), a district town of
Russia, in the government of Kieft, and 190 miles by
rail to the south-east of Kieff, on the right bank of the
Unieper. , It is poorly built, mostly of wood ; the popula-
tion has rapidly increased lately, and has doubled since
1846, reaching 15,740 in 1883. There are now two
gymnasiums for boys and girls, and several lower schools.
The inhabitants (Little Russian) are mostly employed in
agriculture and gardening. There is a brisk -export trade
in corn, refined sugar, tobacco, salt, and timber ; raw sugar
ami manufactured goods are imported, principaUy by Jewish
merchants.
Tcheikasy, fonncrly Tcberka.wk, \v.as an important town of the
Uliraine in the 15tl» century, and remained so, under Polish rule,
uptil the revolt of Hmelnitiiki, when it became free. AVlien "West
Ukraine was taken again by Poland, most of itsinliabit.ants migrat.(d
ici the left bank of tlie Dnieper. 1 1 was annexed by Russia iu 1/95.
TCHERNIGOFF, a government of Little Russia, on
the left bank of the Dnieper, bounded by Moghilefi and
Smolensk on the N., Orel and Kursk on the E., Poltava
on the S., and KieS and Minsk on the W., has an area of
20,233 square miles. Its surface is an undulating plain,
650 to 750 feet high in the north, and from 370 to 600
feet in the south, deeply grooved by ravines and the
valleys of the rivers. In the north, " beyond the Desna,"
about one-third of the area is under wood (which is rapidly
disappearing), and marshes occur along the courses of the
rivers ; while to the south of the Desna tl>e soil is dry,
sometimes sandy, and assumes the characters of a steppe-
land as one proceeds southward Chalk deposits prevail
in the north, and Eocene in the south. The government is
watered by the Dnieper (which forms its western boundary
for 178 miles) and its tributaries the Soj and the Desna.
The latter, which flows through Tchernigofi for nearly 350
miles, is navigable, and timber is brought down its tribu-
taries. Corn, linseed, timber, brandy, hemp, and sugar
are shipped on the Dnieper, Soj, and Desna, and salt im-
ported. The climate is much colder in the woody tracts
of the north than in the south ; the average yearly
temperature at the town of Tchernigofi is 44°'4 (January,
23°; July, "68°-5).
The population, which is rapidly increasmg, reached 1,996,250 in
1883. Itischiefly Little Russian (85-6 per cent); Great Russians
(6"1 pei- cent), mostly Raskolniks, and White Russians (5'6 per
cent) inhabit the northerti districts. Jews have spread rapi.ily
since last century, and now number more than 45,000. There are,
besides, some 20,000 Geftnans as wcU as Creeks at Nyczhin. Agri.
culture is the principal occupation; in tlie north, however, many
of the inhabitants are engaged in the timber trade and virions
domestic industries. Cattle-breeding is carried on in the central
districts, and there were in 1883 572,200 horses, 515,300 cattle,
and 9'!S,000 sheep. Beet is extensively cultivated, and in 1S84
2 million cwts. of beet-root were delivered to the thirteen sugar-
works within the government Tlie culture of tobacco is also in-
creasing, upwards of 500,000 cwts. being produced annually. Hemp
is widely cultivated in the north, and the milder climate of the
south encourages gardening. Bee-keeping is extensively carried
on by the KasKolniks. Tar, pitch, and a large variety of wooden
manufactures are largely produced in the forest districts, as also
are woven fabrics, felts, and leather wares. Limestone, grind-
stones, chiua-claj', and building stone are quarried. Jlanufactures
have begun to develop rapidly of late; by ISSl their yearly produc-
tion reached £1,340,000 (£860,000 from sugar-works and distil-
leries). Trade is active, especially since the opening of the railway
between Kieff and Kursk,'which runs, through Tchernigoff. The
government is divided into fifteen districts, the chief towns (with
populations in 1885) being Tchernigoff (19,000), Borzna (13,700),
Glukhoff (16,450), Gorodnya (3.550), Konotop (16,420), Kozclets
(4430), Krolevets (9190), Jlglin (10,880), Novgorod-Syevcrsk (8020),
Novozybkoff (11,920), Nyezhin (43,020), Oster (3550), Sosnitsa
(5650), Starodub (23,590 in ISSO), and Surazh (3770). . A number
of unimportant towns (14 posads and 49 myestccltJci') possess muni-
cipal institutions.
TCHERNIGOFF, capital of the abovQ ' government,
stands on the right bank of the Desna, nearly half a mile
from the river, 476 miles from Moscow. Far removed
from the great channels of trade, iU sole importance is
as an administrative centre. Its houses are poorly built,
and the streets are unpaved. The population (19,000 in
1885, one-third being Jews) is almost stationary. The
ruins of its fortress, and the old cathedrals of Preo-
brazhenie and Borisoglebsk, founded in the 11th and 12th
centuries, bear witness to the former importance of .the
town. Numerous graves scattered about, and now partly
explored-; speak of the battles which caused its. decay.
Tchernigoff is known to have e.tistcd before the iMIoduction of
Cliristianity info Russia. In 807 it is mentioned ill .V'le' treaty °^
Oli'ff as nest to Kielf, and in the Ilth century it b(tcanfe. the capital
of the priniipality of Syevcrsk aud an important cbmntercial city.
The Jlougolian inv.ision put an end to its growth. Lithuania
annexed it in the 1411i century, but it was soon seized by Poland,
wliich held it until the 17lli century. The great rising in 1048
rendered it iiidei-tndent until 1054, whni the Cossacks accepted
Vhc protcclor.ite of tho czars of JlcSscow. In 1CS6 it was definitely
annexed to Kus>9ia.
J
T C H— T E A
97
I
TCHERNOMORSK, a government of Caucasia, Russia,
consisting of a narrow strip of land between trie main
Caucasus chain and the Black Sea, formerly inhabited by
the Adyghe mountaineers of Caucasus. This strfp, pro-
tected by the mountains from the cold winds of the north,
is in respect of climate one of the most favoured parts of
the Black Sea littoral. Owing to extensive emigrations of
jtsinhabitants to Turkey since the Russian conquest of
1S64, it is very thinly peopled, the population numbering
but ':!5,9S0, mostly Russians, on an area of 2S24 square
miles'. The steep slopes of the Caucasus, whose summits
range from 2000 to 10,000 feet, are furrowed by narrow
gorges, and bear a lu.xuriant vegetation. The wild vine —
a reli: of former gardens — grows freely in the forests, which
are almost impassable on account of the underwood and
dec«j-ing trees. The moistness of the atmosphere contri-
butes to the spread of the Caucasian fever, which is char-
acteristic of the littoral. Notwithstanding the pro.xiniity
of the mountains to the sea, a road is now being con-
stTDCled along the coast, — for military reasons.
Agriculture is carried on, but only in the south, — gardening and
the culture of the vine and tobacco beint; the chief occupations
besides fishing and hunting. Some manufactures are rising up at
Kovorossiysk (3330 inhabitants) and Anapa (53o0), the two prinr
cipal towns, which alsc have some foreign trade. The region is
a -separate province under a military governor re.siding at Novo-
lossiysk, where a new harbour is being constructed.
TCHISTOPOL, a district town of Russia, in the govern-
ment of Kazan, 90 miles to the south-east of that ton-n, on
the left bank -of the Kama. Before 17S1 it waj a mere
village'.,(Tchistoye Pole), founded by runaway serfs ; at
present it is extending rapidly and becoming an industrial
town, with flour-mi!ls, distilleries, and a few cotton-mills.
The merchants cany on a brisk trade in corn brought in
from the fertile tracts of- Ufa, and shipped down the
Kama ; manufactuH;d wares are imported. The popula-
tion in 1S.83 was 18,200.
f TCHIT.\, capital of Transbaikalia, Eastern Siberia,
stands 5S5 miles east of Irkutsk, on the Tchita river, half
a mile above its junction with the Ingoda. It was founded
in 1851 ; and military considerations led to the selection
of this very small village to be the capital of Tran^^baikalia.
Steamers on the Amur and Shilka do not penet-ate so far
as the upper Ingoda ; they usually stay at Sryetensk, 320
miles distant. But the military supplies sent every year
from Transbaikalia to the Amur region usually start
from Tchita, — the forest-covered hills on the b'.nks of
the Ingoda supplying material for the construction of the
barges (from 100 to 200 in number) on which these sup-
plies are carried as soon as the melting of the snows in the
mountains temporarily raises the water in the river to a
sotBcient height. Tchita is built of wood, with unpaved
streets and wide open spaces. The dryness of the Buriat
steppe close by prevents snow from accumulating to any
depth, even when the cold is extreme ; the merchandise
accordingly ■ which "is forwarded from ^ Irkutsk to the
Nertchinsk district is brought to. Tchita on carts, and is
there loaded on sledges for the continuation of the journey
down the. frozen rivers. The population of Tchita in
18S3 was 12,600. The inhabitants support themselves
by agriculture, by tradein furs, cattle, hides, and tallow,.
•which are bought from' the Burials, and in all kind of
manufactured wares imported fr'Jm Russia and Western
Siberia.
TE.\. This important food auxiliary, now in daily use
as a beverage by pro!febly one-half of the -population of
the worfd, is prepared from the leaves of. one or more
plants belonging to the natural order femstriimiacex.
The order includes the well-known ornamental genus of
shrabs Camellia, to which indeed the tea-plants are so
ctoaelv allied that by many systematic writers they are
included in the same genus. The tea-plajats have been;
cultivated in China for at least a thousand years.
As is commonly the case with plants which have been JSotanjr
long under cultivation, there is much doubt as to specific"'
distinctions among the varieties of tea. Under the namq
of Thea sinensis, Linnreus originally, described tea as a
single species ; but with fuller knowledge of- the Chines?
plants he established .two species, Thea Bohea and Tlieci
viridis, and it was assumed that the former was the sourc^
of black teas, while Thea viridis was held to yield thQ
green varieties. In 1813, however, Mr Robert Fortunq
found that, although the two varieties of the plant e.xist
in different parts of China, black and green tea are made
indiffereutly from the leaves of. the same plant. The tea;
plant is cultivated in China as an evergreen shrub, which
grows to a height of from 3 to 5 feet. The stem is bushy,
with numerous and very leafy branches ; the leaves are
alternate, large elliptical, obtusely serrated, veined, and
placed on short channelled foot-stalks. The calyx is
small, smooth, and divided into five obtuse sepals. The
flowers are. white, axillary, and slightly fragrant, — Kjfteo
Fio. 1. — TfA-VlaiA {Thea sinensis).
two cr; three together on separate pedicels. The corolla
has from five to nine petals, cohering at the base. The
filaments are short, numerous, and inserted at the base of
the 'corolla ; the anthers are large and yellow, the style
trifid, and the capsules three-celled and three-seeded.
The viridis varieties are hardier, and possess larger and
brighter green leaves, than belong to the Bohea variety.
No strictly wild tea-plants have been discovered in China,
but an indigenous tea-tree {Thea assamica) is found in
Assam, which botanists now incline to regard as the
parent species of all cultivated varieties. It differs in
many respects from the Chinese plants. The indigenous
Assam tea-plant is a tree attaining a height of from 15 to
20 feet, growing in the midst of dcnse_ moist jungle and
in shady sheltered situations. Its leaves vary considerably
in size, form, and venation, being usually smooth, thick,
and feathery, lanceolate, ovate lanceolate, or oblong lanceo-
late. They are variously dotted with pellucid cells con-
taining essential oil, and the nuibber of such cells shown
by the leaf is held to be an indication of the quality of tea
it will yield. The leaf of the Chinese plant never exceejla
4 inches in length, while that of the Assam tree reach^
XX ITT. — 13
98
TEA
9 inches and upwards. The Chinese plant is hardy, and
capable of thriving under many difiFerent conditions of
climate and situation; while the indigenous plant is tender
and difficult of cultivation, requiring for its success a close,
hot, moist, and equable climate. The characteristic vena-
tion of the leaf of the Chinese tea-plant is delineated in
fig. 2. In minute structure the leaf presents highly
characteristic appearances. The
under side of the young leaf is
densely covered with fine one
celled thick-walled hairs, about 1
mm. in length and -015, mm. iri
thickness. These hairs entirely
!disappear with increasing age.
The structure of the epidefmis' of
!the under side of the leaf, with
'its contorted cells, is represented
( X 160) in fig. 3. A further char,
acteristic feature of the cellular
structure of the teu-leaf is the
abundance, especially in grown
leaves, of large, branching, thick-,
walled, smooth cells (idioblasts),,
which, although they occur in'
other leaves, are not found in such
as are likely to be confounded^.
with or substituted for tea.. The,
'minute structure of the leaf^.in
■' section is illustrated in fig. 4.- v
Ratige of The cultivated varieties of tea7
growth, being comparatively hardy, possess p^^ 2. — T«a-Leaf— full size,
an adaptability to climate excelled . ^ _
among food plants only by the wheat. . The limits of actual
tea cultivation extend from 39° N. lat. in Japan, through
the tropics, to Java, Australia, Natal, and Brazil in the
southern hemisphere. The tea-plant will even live in the
open air in the sonth of.England, and withstand. some
Fio 3.— EpidermisTr Tea-Lcaf (uncler side)..
amount of frost,'' when it receives. sufficient, summei; heat
-.0 harden its wood. But comparatively^ few^regions are
suited for practical tea-growing.
CUmate A rich and exuberant growth •ofjhe plantys a first
and loiU es.sential of successful tea cultivation. This iSytSnly cbtain-
^blei in warm, moist, and comparatively eqilable climates,
where rains are frequent and copious. ,> The climate indeed
which favours tropical profusioii of jungle growth— still
steaming heat— is that most favourable for the cultivation
of tea, and such climate, unfortunately, is most. prejudicial
to the hcaltli of Europeans. It was formerly supposed
that comparatively temperate latitudes and steep sloping
ground a9"rdcd Uie most favourable situations for iea-
planting, and iiukIi of the disaster which attended ".the
.early stages of the tea enterprise in India is traceable to
[this (jrroneou.s conception. Tea thrives best in light friable
soils of good depth, through which water percolates freelyr
the plant being specially impatient of marshy situations
and stagnant water. Undulating well-watered tracts, where
the rain escapes
freely, yet without
washing away the
soil, are the most
valuable for tea gar-
dgDS. As a matter
of fact, many of the
Indian plantations
sje established on
Sill-sides, after the
example of known -—— „ -. — — , _,^_ . ..r
,7,.'^, . r^\.■ Fio. 4.— Section through Tea-Leaf.
districts in China,
where hiU slopes and odd corners are coMmonly occupied,
with tea-planti _
According to Chinese .legend, the virtues of tea {cfi^mstary.
pronounced In the' Amoy dialect te, whence the English,
name) were discovered by Ihe mythical emperor Chin-
nung, 2737 B.C., to whom all agricultural and medicinal,
knowledge is traced. It is doubtfully referred to in the
book of ancient poems edited by Confucius, all of which
are previous in, date to 550 B.C. A tradition exists in
China that a-kndwtedge of tea travelled eastward to anci.
in China, having been introduced 543 a.d. by Bodhidharma,
an ascetic \tho came from India on a missionary expedition,'
but that legend ■ is als.o mixed with mythical and super-;
natural details. But it is quite certain, from the historicalj
narrative of Lo Yu, who lived in the Tang dynasty (618-1
906 A.D.). that tea was already used as a beverage in the
6th century, and that during the 8th century its use had
become so common that a tax was levied on its consump-
tion in the 14th year of Tih Tsung (793). The use of teaj
in China in the middle of the 9th century is known fromi
Arab sources (Reinaud, Rdation des Voyages, 1845, p. 40).
From China s, knowledge of tea was carried into Japan,',
and there the cultivation was established about the begin-
ning of the ISth century. Seed was brought from China
by the priest Miyoye, and planted first in the south island,'
Kiushiu whence- the cultivation spread northwards till it
reached the high limit of 39° K. To the south tea cultiva-
tion also spread into Tong-king and Cochin Chma, but the
product in these regions is of inferior quality. Till well
into the 19th century it may be said that Chma and Japan
were the only two tea-producing countries, and that the
product reached the Western markets only through the
narrowest channels and under most oppressive restrictiona.
In .the year 1S26 the Dutch succeeded in establishing
tea gardens in Java. At an early period the E^t India
Company of Great Britain, as the principal trade iiiterme-!
diary between China and Europe, became deeply interested^
in the question of tea cultivation in their Eastern posses-,
sions. In 1788 Sir Joseph Banks, at the request of the,
directors, drew up a memoir on the cultivation of economic,
plants in Bengal, in which he gave special prominence to^
tea, pointing out the regions most favourable for its,
cultivation. About the year 1820 Mr David Scott, one,
of the Company's servants, sent to Calcutta from thi,
district of Kuch Behar'and Raugpui— the very district
indicated by Sir Joseph Banks as favourable for tea-^
o-rowin"— certain leaves, with a statement that tliey wero^
said to° belong to tlie u-ild lea-plant. Tiic loaves were
submitted to Dr Wallich, Govcromcnt liotani.t at Calcutta
wlio pronounced them to belong to a speCKS of '.„„i,lh(.
and no result followed on .Mr Scutfs communirntion.
These very leaves ullimntcly can-.e into the licrbaiuuu c
ihc Linnoau Society of London, and have authontatucly
been pronounced to belong to the indigenous Assam tc»
plant Dr Wnllich's attribution of tliis and other spccunom.
TEA
99
subsequently sent in to the genus Camellia, although
sciontidcally defensible, unfortunately diverted attention
from the significance of the discovery It was not till
1834 that, overcome by the insistence of Captain Francis
Jenkins, who maintained and proved that, called by the
name Camellia or not, the leaves belonged to a tea plant,
Dr Wallich admitted " the fact of the genuine tea-plant
being a native of our territories in Upper Assam as
incontrovertibly proved"" In the meantime a committee
had been formed by Lord William Bentinck, the governor
general, for the introduction of tea culture inlu india,
and an official bad already been sent to the tea districts
of Chiua to procure seed and skilled Chinese workmen
to conduct operations in the Himalayan regions The
discovery and reports of Captain Jenkins led to the
investigation of the capacities of Assam as a tea growing
country by Lord William Bentinck's committee Evidence
of the abundant existence of the indigenous tea-tree was
obtained ; and the directors of the East India Company
resolved to institute an experimental establishment in
Assam for cultivating and manufacturing tea, leaving the
industry to be developed by private enterprise should its
(iracticability be demonstrated. In 1 836 there was sent to
London 1 DE) of tea made from indigenous leaves , in 1837
5 ft> of Assam tea was sent ; in 1838 the quantity sent was
twelve small boxes, and ninety-five boxes reached London
in 1839. In January 1840 the Assam Company was
formed, and thenceforward the cultivation of tea in India
was carried on as a private commercial undertaking. The
tea districts of India include, in the order of their priority,
Assam, Dehra Dun, Kumaun, Darjiling, Cachar, Kangra,
Hazaribagb, Chittagong, Tarai, and the Nilgiris (Madras).
Attempts were repeatedly made to introduce tea culture
in Ceylon, under both Dutch and British authority No
permanent success was attained till about 1876, when the
disastrous effects of the coffee-leaf disease induced planters
to give serious attention to tea. Since that period the tea
industry has developed in Ceylon with marvellous rapidity,
and it has every prospect of taking the first rank among
Singalese productions. Tea-planting has also been suc-
cessfully established in NataL But beyond the regions
above enumerated the industry has never taken root. It
has been tried in the West Indies, the Southern States of
America, Brazil, Australia, and the south of Europe , but
cheap labour is a sine qua non of success. Tea can be
picked in China and the British East Indies for two or
three pence a day of wages, and it is on such exceedingly
moderate outlay that the margin of profit depends.
Tea Tea is more or less cultivated for local consumptioD in all pro-
industry vinces of China except the extreme north, but the regions from
in China, which it is exported are embraced within the provinces in the
south-east — Kwangtung, Fuh-keen, Keang-se, Che-keang, Keang-
6U, aud Gan-hwuy. Black-tea manufacture belongs to the more
sontherly portion of these regions, the green tea country lying to
the north. The methods employed in cultivating the plants and
in making tea in China differ widely in various districts, and the
teas retained for native use — especially the high-class fancy teas
which are never seen abroad, and would probably not bear ex-
portation— nndergo special manipidation. The teas exported are
of three principal classes— black tea, green tea, and brick tea.
Cnltiva- In cultivation, the young plants are not ready for picking till
tioa. they are three years old, by which time they should be well
established, throwing out young shoots or " fiushes'" with vigour
and profusion. It is these tender shoots, with leaf-buds aud exp.iud
ing leaves, which alone are gathered for tea manufacture, and the
younger the leaf-bud the better is the quality of the tea. Accord
ing to Chinese statements there are four gatherings of leaves in the
year. The first is made early in April, when the young leaf-buds
»rc jnst unfolding, and these, covered below with their 6ne silky
hairs, are taken for making pekoe or young hyson The second
gathering bikes place about the beginning of May, another in Jnly,
and the fourth in August aud September On each succeeding
occasion the in'ijduct is less fragrant and valuable, and the final
gathering is said to consist of large leaves of little value. These
Vtateraeuts do not, however, accord with Indian experienca
The following brief outline of the Chinese tea-niaking processes
is given by Mr Ball (Cultivation and ilanufaclurc of Tea) —
"The leaves of hiack tea are exposed to llie sun nnd aii on circular trays end Black
tr\;ated as hay, duiing which an incipient saccharine fermentation is supposed to [g^
take place in conjiincnon with ft volatile oil Various modificaiions of flavour
are thus produced by the management of this fernieniatioil , a loss of tannin
takes place hy the conveision of part of the tannic acid Into suj^r Dui ing this
change the leaves become flaccid, and slightly tinged or spotted with red or brown
colouring matter, and give out a peculiar (idour. appioximating to, or as some
think, identical with, the odour of ten A certain cliangc in this odour is carefully
watched by the workmen, this being an indication that the loasting must not be
delayed. It is not necessary ro wait till the leaves are spotted with red ' They
are then roa.sted in an iron vessel, and afterwards rolled with the hands, to
express their juices. The roasting and rolling are repeated so long as any juices
can be expressed from the leaves in the act of rolling. Finally, they are dried
in sieves placed over a charcoal tire in drying tubes, during which the leaves aie
occasionally taken fi'om the file, and turned until completely dried, it is in this
last stage of the prrrcess that the leaves tum black, though this change of colour
Is -mainly due to the process of manipulation previously to roasting and not to
the action of heat ^
"The leaves of green tea are ro.-i.sted also m an iron vessel, but as soor. as GreaB
gathered, without any previous manipulation, all heating or fermentation of the tea
leaves being studiously avoided; they are then rolled as black tea. and finally
dried in the same vessel in which they have been roasted, by constantly stirring
and moving them about They are also fanned to hasten evaporation, and the
drying and formation of the peculiar characteristic colour of this tea, which it
gradually acquii^s id this process, and which resemblea the bloom qd some
fruits "
The colour of genuine green tea Is entirely due to the rapid drying
of the fresh leaves, which prevents the chlorophyll from under,
going any alteration The green tea sent out of Chiua is almost
invariably faced or glaied with artificial colouring matter, princi-
pally with a powdered mixture of gypsum and Pnissian blue
The names distinguishing commercial qualities of tea are almost Coin-
entirely of Chinese origin In general they indicate a gradation mercial
of qualities from the fine and delicate product of the young leaf- varieties
bud up to the hard and woody expanded and partly-grown leaf. '
The following list represents the ordinary series of qualities, begin-
ning with the finest: —
Black Tea. — Flowery pekoe, orange pekoe, pekoe, pekoe souchong,
souchong, congou, bohea
Green 7"ca. —Gunpowder, iinperial. hyson, young hyson, hyson.
skin, caper
Of these names, pekoe is derived from pakho (white hairs), tho
pekoes showing the fine downy tips of the young buds ; souchong
is from siacm-chung, little plant or sort , congou {kung-fu), labour ,
bohea (MTu-i), the mountains in Fuh-keen, the centre of the black- tea
country , auii hyson iyu t^ien), before the rains, or tn-chun, flour-
ishing spring. Many other names occur in the trade denoting teas
of special qualities or districts, such as oolong (black dragon) and
twankay,-from the district of that name in the pro\'ince of Keang-
siL Scented teas also form a special class of Chinese produce. In
scenting the finished tea, either black or green is intimately inter-
mixed with odoriferous flowers and left in a heap till the tea is fully
impregnated with the odour, when the two substances are separated
by sifting, and the tea so scented is immediately packed aud ex-
cluded from the air
Brick tea is the special form in which tea is prepared for use Bricfc
throughout the vast tracts of Central Asia. It is made principally tea.
from broken leaves, stalks, and fragments of large leaves, com-
pressed into blocks of various sizes. The bricks are of various
degrees of compression, some being lightly squeezed into a loose
mass and sewed up in cowhide bags, while others form compact
resonant cakes, in which all trace of the oiiginal leaf structure is
lost, with gdt characters impressed in their surface Brick tea is
much in demand over an area greater than the whole of Europe,
and by many tribes it is stewed with milk, salt, and butter or other
fat and eaten as a vegetable. The Russian factors established in
Hoo-pih prepare two sizes of brick tea, which they send off in great
quantities through the Kalgan Gate of the Great Wall.
Under European supervision the cultivation and especially the Tea to-
manufacture of tea have in India undergone remarkable improve- dnstry
ments Indeed, the traditional and empirical teachingand processes in India,
of China proved a most serious stumbiingblock to the pro^:p-ess of
the tea industry under Western auspices The tea-plants now
cultivated in India are of three principal classes— the indigenous
Assam the Chinese, and a hybrid between the two By much
crossing and intermixture the gradations from one extreme to the
other are almost imperceptible The best qualities of black teas
are made from indigenous and high-class hybrid plants, but these
are compai-atively tender and require a close humid climate The
hardiness of the Chinese plants is their most important character,
for, favourably situated, the Assam plant gives a larger yield of
delicate young leaf during the season than any other
In favourable circumstances the tea plant "flushes or sends Picking
forth a fresh crop of tender young shoots from twenty to twenty-
five times in the course of its growing and picking season of about
nine months The average annual yield per plant is very variable,
but may be stated at about one-fifth of a lb of finished tea; and, as
each acre of a garden holds LIOO to 1600 mature plants, the yield
per acre may be from 300 to 350 lb per annum. The diagram
(fi^ 5) from Col Money's valuable practical treatise on tho CuUp-
100
TEA
mtjm und Manufadurr. of Tm illtistrates the method in which a
eush or aboot us pinked, and the portions winch go to make special
classes of tea The lines in the diagram show the poinLi at which
the shoot oia; be picked, and it is important that the lowest leaf
taken shoolJ h« no nipped off »» to leave the bud in it£ ainl
nninjnred on th« branch as rrom it the uejtt flash will then develop.
The thre. leave, at the growing point \n. b. c) yield pekoe and
th« whole shoot down to »nd including / gives pekoe sonchong.
In the order of their age. the individual leaves manufacttue into
a flowery pekoe » orange pekoe, c pekoe, d pekoe soachong, «
souchong, and / aingou. Were the flush farther developed another
Fio. 5 —Mode of Picking Tea.
uaf might be Wkeu. which would be classed as hohca. but that Is
not a quality recognized by Indmn growers. It is not, however,
the practice to pick or treat leaves separately, the whole flush being
manipulated together, and the tea is only separated into qualities by
Biftino after the uianofacturing processes have been completed
Manu- The manufacture of black tea is found to be an essentially simple
factore. matter Many of the processes employed by the Chinese are quita
Black superfluous, and several of the manual operations which bnik
tea largely in the Chinese manufacture. It is found, can with advantage
be supplanted by mechanical agency. The whole object of the
black-tea manufacturer is to ferment, roll, and dry the leaf, and
for that purpose the leaves undergo— (1) withering, (2) rolling, (3)
fermenting, and (4) finog or dholing. Between the fermenting
and the firing operations it is desirable to expose the leaves to the
" direct sunlight for an hour or thereby. This caiinot always be
done, as it is impossible to keep the fermented leaves after they
have' attained their proper state , nevertheless the best result is
always attained m bright weather, when it is possible to expose
the fermented leaves to the sun.
The fresh leaves from the garden, as they are brought in to the
factory, are withered by being spread evenly over square wi-cker-
work trays— leaf challanies— thickly or thinly as the weather is
bot or cool Thus they are left exposed to the air till they become
auite soft and flaccid, folding together when pressed in the hand
into a clammy mass without crackling or rebound. In cloudy or
rainy weather it becomes necessary to wither by machine, acting
on the leaves with artificially dried and heated air. Withering is
a preliminary to rolling, in which the flaccid and velvety leaves are
kneaded, twisted, and rolled back and forward over a table till the
whole comes into a mashy condition by the exudation of juice.
While ID Chinesetea-makingthat juice IS squeezed ont of the leaves,
in India it is most carefully lapp«i up and absorbed in the spongy
mass In hand-rolling as much as can be worked between two
hands Is operated on, and passed from man to man along the table
till fully worked, when it is made up into a compressed ball and
«o put aside for fermenting. This process is the distinguishing
feature of black-tea making, and on its sufficient accomplishment
depends much of the character and quality of the tea made. The
progress of the fennentation must be carefully w<itclied, and at the
point when by the colour it is known to be sufficiently advanced
the tea is in favourable weather sunned by exposure, thinly spread
out to the sunlight for about an hour It is immediately thero-
efter hred, either by the fumes of burning charcoal or by a current
of dried and heated air from one of the numerous machines now
kn use With this single firing the process is completed, and the
tea su finished is sifted by machinery into commercial qualities
iccoriiiiig to the size of the leaf
I''or the "-utile range of manuf.-M;tuiing operations numerous foniis
•f machinery and mechanical devices have been ad.ipted «nd intro-
duced in Indian gardens, so that, apart from picking the leaves,
ttj-making hns become practically a factory industry.
Green The manufacture of green t«a is cniiipaiatively little prosecuted
tea. in lu^ia In Europe the demand h.is greatly fallen .aw.iy, and,
though the consumption is considerable in the Uniteil States, the
Mipply is principally drawn from Jajnu, where its preparation is
extensively practised. The manufacture as carried on iii the North-
western Provinces resolves itself into a rapid rolling and dryinpof
the leaf. Without permitting the leaves to wither after gatheniig,
they are, if free from moisture, at once by exposure to a brislt"faeat
sweated and softened for rolling. They are tnen without delaj
rolled as in black-tea tfiannfacture, next spread out m the sun till
they take a blackish tinge, then agam rolled, and this rolling and
exposure may be repeated yet a third time- When the rolling is
completed the tea is placed in a highly heated pan, in which it Si
stirred about briskly till the whole mass hecomes too hot to be
worked by hand. Then it is tightly packed in a strong canvas
bag, in which it is beaten by a heavy Hat stick to consolidate it,
and in this condition left for a night Next day it is fired off ia »
pan. beginning with a high heat, which is gradually reduced daring
the nine hours or thereby of the operation, an incessant stirring
and tossing being kept up the whole time. During this firing off
the green colour of the tea is developed; and Indian green tea
never owes any of its colour to " facing " with foreign substances.
The qualities of a sample of tea and its commercial value can Qualities
only with accuracy be determined by actual infusion and trial by of tea
a skilled tea-taster- Certain general and external appearances
which indicate the class of a tea are obvious enough ; but, aUhough
a pekoe may be readily distinguished from a souchong, the
souchong of certain planters or districts may be more valuable than
other pekoes. While it is impossible to define the conditions
which deterrnine the commercial value of an ordinary black tea.
Col. Money lays down the following rules the darker the liquor
the stronger the tea, and the nearer the approach of the infused
leaf to a uniform salmony brown the purer the flavour. Black tea
of good quality should in infusion yield a clear bright brown liquor
emitting a subdued fragrance, and in taste it should be nmd,
bland, and sweetish, with an agreeable astnngency. Green tea
yields a light^coloured liquor of high fragrance, but thin, sharp,
and somewhat rasping in taste as compared with black tea.
The chemical components of tea leaves are essential oil, theine, Chemls.
tannin, boheic acid, qnercetin, quercitannic acid, gallic acid, oxalic try.
acid, gum, chlorophyll, resin, wax, albuminoids, colouring matters,
cellulose, and mineral ash. Of these the first three— essential ofl,
theme, and tannin — are of importance in the infused beverage.
The essential oil. on which the flavour of tea depends, is present to
the extent of from 06 to 1 per cent Theiire (CgHijN.Oj) is ail
alkaloid identical with the caffeine obtained from cofl'ee, and it,i8
remarkable that the same substance is yielded by the mat* oi
Paraguayan tea and the guarana of South America, and by the
kola nut of Central Africa. The theobromine of cocoa is also
closely allied to theine, and the characteristic components of tliB
extract of meat similarly show certain points of contact with these
stimulant bodies. To the tannin of tea infusions is due what is
known as the strength of the tea. Prof. Dittmar has recently
examined a number of China and Indian teas in regard to the pro-
portions of theine and tannin in their infusions and to the depend-
ence of these proportions on the time of infusion. The general
result was that Chinese tea yields more theine and less tannin than
Indian tea, and that ill both cases 10 minutss' infusion, extracts
practically all the theine. Longer infusion adds only to the tannin
that passes into the solutiou, and, as excess of tannin impede»4iges-
tion,- prolonged infusion is hurtful and ought to be avpid^i.
TUe quantitative composition of —
tea IS of course subject to great
variation. The analyses by Mul-
der given 10 the accompanying
table furnish a general idea of the
proportion of constituents.
A series of investigations into
a large number of teas has been
earned out by Mr G. W Wigner
(Pharm. Jour.. 3d series, vL 261,
281, 402). lu tea as imported
ho found large proportions of
moisture which could be expelled
on exposure to a temperature of
212° F In a range of thirty-five samples the average moisture was
equal to 7 07 percent, the lowest— in a Chinese young hyson-
being 4 84. while in several congous it exceeded 10 jper cent The
ash in si.Mty-seveu specimens of ordinary and special (undried) teas
he found to .average 578 per cent, the maximum being 7'02 and
the niininiuni 517 ; and of that ash 54 50 per cent was soluble in
water The proportion of extractive subsunces in twenty-four
teas varied from 26 15 in a congou to 44 85 in Moyune young
hyson. The total average nitrogen tioin sixty green teas, slightly
faced, was 376, from sixty black teas 326, from six Assam teas .J
3 -64, and from exhausted leaves 3 80 jier cent
So long ,as the Western world remained almost exclusively Adulteni»
• Uoo.
» Tbc theme is cci tftinly ondsrstaUid ; more rectnt obsci veis obtalD flora 1 8 to
3 per rent., luij occ.ismnally more.
2 The niinei nl sulta (ash) partly Included In Ihcse uHula oinoi-nltd lo 6 M liul
5-2-1 icspt;ctivcjy-
\
Hyson.
Green.
Congou-
Black.
VolatllooiU
0-79
2-22
0-28
2-22
8M
1780
0-43
22-80
23-60
3-00
17-08
0-60
1-84
O-OO
8-64
7-28
12^
0-46
21.36
1912
2-80
28-32
waiT. .....:;::::."'.
Gam.
Theine'
Extractive maitci .
Colouring matter. -
Woody fibre.
98-78'
98-30'
TEA
lOJLJ
dcMndenf on- China for ic3 tea supply, adiJteration was rampant
»7ii multiform in the trade. Especially among green and fancy
teas there was scarcely such a thing as an unsophisticated sample
to b« obtained. The Chinese were also expert in fabricating an
•rtificial gunpowder — appropriately kno\vn as "lie tea," — which
poDsisted of the sweepings of tea warehouses artfully made up with
a paste of rice water. Paddy husks and many kinds of leaves faced
with China clay, soapstone, catechu, and black lead also found
thcif way abundantly iuto tea. On the European side, exliaustod
loaves were again dried, impregnated with catcclui and gum, and
need up to do duty as fresh tea, and the leaves of numerousjilanta
—sloe-thorn, hawthorn, willow, beech, plane, Epilobium aiujusti-
folium, ic. — were freely worked up as tea. Adulterated tea is now,
liowever, comparatively rare, largely owing to the watchfulness o£
the customs authorities, lloreover, as it is nearly as cheap to make
tea from the leaves of the tea-plant as from those of any other herb,
there is not much incentive to substitute the false for the real.
At a ver)' early period in the European history of tea the prob-
iible effects of its-nse on the health and morals of the population
attracted jealous attention, and a gi'cat deal was written, mostly
in a hostile sense, on the subject In 167S we find Mr Henry
Savile writing to his. uncle, Mr Secretary Coventry, in sharp
reproof of certain friends of his "who call for tea, instead of pipes
and bottles after dinner, — a base unworthy Indian practice, which
I must ever admire your most Christian family for nof admitting."
And he adds, with an audible sigh, "the truth is, all nation's are
growing so mcked as to have some of these filthy customs I "
Some of the writers, however, although i-esolute for its banishment
from the caddy, \Y«r9' willing to give it a place in the medicine
chest "Among many other novelties," says a medicaL writer in
1 722, " there is one which seems to be particularly, the cause of tlja
hypochondriac disorders,- and is generally known by the name of
thca, or tea. It is a drug which of late years has very much
iBsinuated itself, as well into our diet as regales and entertain-
ments, though its occupation is not less destructive to the animal
economy than opium, or some other drugs'which we have at
present learned to avoid."' Dr Lettsom was- the first medical
writer who gave the public'a reasonable and scientific account of
the plant ; but even he let the fear of its abuse run away with^us
judgment, asserting that "the first rise of this pernicious custom
[that of drinking spirits to excess] is often owin^ to the weakness
I and debility of the system brought on by the dailyliabit of drinking
'tea ; the trembling hand seeks a temporary relief in some cordial,
in order to refresh and excite again the enfeebled system, whereby
such persons almost necessarily fall into a habit of intemperance." *
Jonas Hanway {Essai; cm Tea, 1756) was among its most vigorous
assailants. "Men," he says, "seem to have lost their stature and
comeliness, and women their beauty What Shakespeare
ascribes to the concealment of love is in this age more frequently
occasioned by the use of tea." To these complaints echoes were
not wanting, but after a while the tea-drinkers had it all their
own. way. In the meantime, however, tea was not without its
apologists.' To say nothing of our own familiar poets and essay-
ists, its praises have been sung by Herricheu and by Francius m
Greek verses, by Pechlin-in Latin epigrams, by Pierre Petit iq a
Latin poem of five hundred lines, and by a German versifier, who
celebrates; in a ■fashion of his own, its " burial and happy resurrec-
tion. " ' Hnet, bishop of Avranches, has also paid liis graceful
tribute" to a stimulant tp which, probably, no scholar was ever
more indebted, and which he continued to enjoy at the ago of
ninety. Dr Johnson draws his own portrait as " a hardened and
blameless tea-drinker, who for twenty years diluted his meals
with only the infusion of this fascinating plant ; whoso kettlehad
scarcely time to cool ; who with tea amused the evening, with tea
solaced the midnight, and with tea welcomefl the morning." '>
• Authorities ara not yet by any means agreed as to the exact
physiological inBoence and -value of tea. The very striking fact
that theme is precisely the characteristic constituent of cofi'ee,
mat^, gnarana, and the kola nnt, all substances eagerly sought after
in different quarters of the globe, serves to show that tho alkaloid
satisfies some craving of "the human system, although what its effect
is has not yet been certainly determined. The quantity of theine
consumed even by the most hardened tea-driaker is oxcefedingly
minute, and there are not wanting aUthdritieS who assert that it
U practically inert, an assertion surely- contradicted by thd general
instinct of the race. What is indisputable about tea drinking is
that it forms an agreeable means of-. imbibing, the proportion of
water necessary, in human nutrition, which, being taken hot, com-
^ An Essay on tU Nature, Use, and Abiae 0/ Tea, H, 15»-
* Lettaom, Hataral History of the tea-Tree, 78.
• Der Thee 'Bigratmiss und gtucJtticfie Wkderaii/erstehun^ [16^07},
4-10 the verses be^niog —
* I paer, I, Tlieam ccDrestini In pocnla misce ;
Urgct non aolitus lumina noati-a Bopi,r; ^
Mens srupet ; obtuse lun^oicnt in corpore vires ;
LangUMrcm aolvet vivida Tliea novum." —
Uiiettl Commenlarius de rebus ad eum pertinentibus, 304. ■
Ulerarii Uaaatine, toL IL No. 13 (1767).
municates to the system a diffused warm glow! Further, as used!
by Western communities, it is a medium of taking, iu tho form'
of sugar and cream, no inconsiderable. amount of real niltrinunti
The other effects of tea are more a matter of general impression than'
of ascertained scientific reality.' Its virtues have nowhere beeu)
better summarized than by tlio earliest Chinese writer on the sub-
ject, tho above-mentioned Lo Yu, who says, " It tempers the spirits'
and harmonizes 'the mind, dispels lassitude and relieves fatigue,;
awakens thought and prevents drowsiness, lightens or refreshes the
body, and clears the perceptive faculties." The gentle exhilaration'
■which accompanies the moderate use of tea is not followed by the:
depression which succeeds tho use of alcoholic stimuli. Experienca'
has proved that it sustains tho frame under severe muscular or
mental exercise without causing su bsequent exhausdon and collapse.^
Tea is frequently found to' be bereficial to sufferers from nervous
headache, -and it counteracts to some extent the effects of alcohol
and of opiates. Taken in excess it produces cerebral excitement,'
sleeplessness, and general nervous irritability. 'The tannin con»,
tained in its infusions also interferes with the flow of the saliva,\
diminishes the digestive activity of the stomach, and impedes tha
action of the bowels. In this view the large quantity o£ strong
tea used by tho poor—and especially by the sedentary poor,— iwhlle
serving to blunt the keen tooth of hunger, Jnust work incalculable
havoc With the digestive and nervous systems of the consumers.
It 13 a reinarkable fact that no mention of tea is made by Marco Com-
Polo, and that no knowledge of ithe substance appears- to have merco
reached Europe till after the establishment of intercourse between and eta-
Portuijal and China in 1517. ■ The Portuguese, hoy?ever, did little tistics.
towards the introduction of the hert into Europe, and it was not
till the Dutch established themselves at Bantam early in the 17th
century that these adventurers learned from the Chinese the habit
of tea drinking and brought it to Europe.
The earliest mention of tea by au Englishman is probably that"
contained in a letter from Mr Wickham, an agent of the East India
Company, written from Firando in Japan,.on the 27th June 1615,
to Mr Eaton, another officer of the company, resident at Macao,'
and asking for "a pot of the best sort of chaw." How the com-
mission was executed does not appear, but in Mr Eaton's subse-
quent accoullts of expenditure occurs this item— ."three silvei;
porringers to drink chaw in.''
It was not till the middle of the century that the English began
to use tea, and they also received their supplies from Java till .in
1686 they were driven out of the island by the DutcL—zAt first
the price of tea in England ranged from £6 to £10 per Ib.^^rn the
Mcrcuruts Politicxts, No. 435, 6f September 1658, the following
advertisement occurs; — "That excellent and by'all Physitians
approved China Drink called by the Chineans Tcha, by otiier
■ nations Tay, alias Tee, is soldat the Sultaness Head, a cophee.liousel
in Sweetings Rents, by the iloyal Exchange, Loudon. Thomas
Garway, tho first English tea dealer, and founder of the well-known
coffee-house, " Garra way's," in a curious .broadsheet- An Exact Be-
seriptimi o/the Orowth, Quality, and Virtues of the Leaf Tea, issued
iu 1659 or 1660, writes, " in respect of its scarceness and deariiess, ,
it hath been only used as a regalia in .high treatments and enter-
tainments-;'and presents made thereof to princes and grandees." In
that year he purchased a quantity of the rare and mncli.prized com-
modity, and, offered it to the public, in the leaf, at fixed prices vary-
ihg from 153. to 6O3. tbo &, according to quality, ^nd also in tho
infusion, "made according'^to the directions of the most knowing-
merchants and travellers into those eastern countries," In 1660'
an Act of the first parliament of the Restoration imposed a tax on'
" every gallon of chocolate, sherbet^ and tea, made and sold, to b«
paid hy the maker thereof, eightpence" (12 Car.. U. c. 28). . .;
Popys's often-quoted mention of tho fact that on the 25th
September 1660, I did send for a cup of tee, a China drink, of
which. 1. never had drunk before," proves the novelty of tea in
England., at that date. In 1664 we find that the East India
Company presented the king with 2 ft and 2 02. of "thea," which
cost 403. per lb, and two years afterwards with another parcel con-
taining 223 tti, for which the directors paid 6O3. per lb. Both parcels-
appear to have been purchased on the Continent. Not until 1677
is the Company recorded toiave taken any steps for the importa-
tion of tea. The order then given to their agents was for " teas of
the best kind to the amount of 100 dollars. Bat their instruc-
tions were considerably exceeded, for the quantity imported ill
1678 -was 4713 lb, a quantity -which seems to have glutted the!
market for several years. The annals of tti'e Company record that,'
in February 1684, the directors wrote thus toMaaras: — "In regard'
thea is grown to be. a commodity- here, and we have occasion t6?
make presents therein to our grtat friends at court, we would have]
yoa.to send us yearly five or six canisters of the very best and'
freshest thea." Until the 'Revolution no duty was laid on tea
other than that levied on the infusion as. sold in the coffee-houses.
By 1 William and Mary c. 6, a duty of 5s. per lb and 5 per cent
on the value was imposed. For several years the quantities im-
jiorted were very small, and consisted escluaively of tho finer sorts.
The first direct purchase in Chica was made at Amoy, tiie teas
102
TEA
previonsly obtained by tfee Compauy's factors having been purchased
in Madras and Surat, whither it was brought by Chinese junka
after the expulsion of the British from Java. During the closiug
years of the century the amount brought over seems to have been,
on the average, about 20,000 ^ a year. The instructions of 1700
directed the supercargoes to send home 300 tubs of the finer green
teas and 80 tubs Of boheo. In 1703 orders were given for
*'75,000 tb. Single (green), 10,000 tb in^perial,' and 20,000 lb
bohea" The average price of tea at this penod was 16s. per tb.
During the 100 years from 1710 to 1810 the aggregate' sale of
tea by the East India Company amounted to 750,219,016 lb, worth
£129,804,595, of which 116,470,675 lb wasre-exp6rted. The duties
during that century (excepting a period of eleven years, 1784-^5,
when they were only 12^ per, cent.) were excessive, amounting to
about 200 per cent, pn the value of common teas. The results of so
enormous a tax were the creation of a gigantic smuggling ^trade,
extensive adultei-ation of imported teas, and much fabrication of
counterfeit tea within the country. Rrobably the duty-'paid tea
did not represent mote than half what was consumed under thb
name of tea. The following table exhibits the principal facts con-
nected with the trade daring tlie period of the Company's monopoly,
which terminated on the 22d of April 1834, when the trade was
thrown open to all, the prices quoted being those of good qualities
in the Company's wareliouse or in bond :■ —
Average Price per tb
Rules of Dnty
Home Con
sumprioii
lb
1728
I7C0
1782
1783
1784
1786
1786
1795
1801
1821
1833
[32/6 (duty Included)].
5/coniiOu: 9Ao(iy8bo
4A0 congon : 8/3 hyson. .
4/3 congou; 6/9 byson....
4^6 congou : 7/1 by&on....
3/9 congou; 6/4 hyson....
3/5congou; 5/6 hyson....
3/ congou; 5/4 l^son.. ..
2/6 J congou; 4/2 hyson.
4/ per It), and £13. 18/7J Z ...
1/ perm. andi:;3. 18/74 %.. ..
lyl J per lb, and £56. lS/10 X
£12. 1(1/ per cent.
£20 per cent
£50 pel cent., £20 under 2/6..
£100 and £96 percent.
l,493,(i26'
3,860,976
6.202,257
4,741,622
10.160,700
14,800,982
15,861,747
21,342,846
23,780,100
26,754,637
31,829,620
The progressive increase in the consumption of tea in tlie United
Kingdom durlng,.50 yeirs from 1836 till 1886 is instructively shown
in the accompanying diagram constracted by Messrs J C. Sillar and
Co., of London. The dotted iine represents the average monthly
consumption in each year ; the fluctuations in price of good sound
congou are traced by the blacW line; and the years in which reduced
customs duty como into operation are indicated along the base.
From 1860 omvards the amount of Indian tea entered for home
consumption is shown in monthly average by a black column.
This column "brings out the remarkable fact that the Indian teft
consumed in the United Kingdom in a year now exceeds the total
N>o*»fl»t*ffl a o -ftiO-j >e> tffffl'fto- t* k t mo MILL
S S -ON '
,T/- , , .
u
X
-^ x ■ ^
^ — 15
■^4
^ -r ••■ '" 1 4
_ ™ - ■• ■■- "" 13
-ZJ^ t X
,2
-^ f ^
fl
r
10
'/s \ \ ■
.... ^ -.. 9
a 4 4%
■^•- ^8
"^ ^ • A h 3j
..-- _T _ ^ 7
,/- ■ \ /, 1 /l,. '■■ vf^l 1 hi /VM,I. 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 il 1 1 1 1 1 I.I »l
-^ ^-, r^^i^-- i i
^gz^^ I'v 55r _Tr .jy^ 5
■ * • . ^-v-...i^fc\2 ^^
*=^ us 5:ja + I. 4
1^ „-•-- ^-J T
^'Y' ^ T- I
■ ----J.J.. 2
_n_4.4-4 I + '
i ■ j^- P ±111111 II Tt .
p"r:B. '/''- u '/3 '/=
•/- 6°
consumption of all kinds in 1860, and is more than double the
whole quantity used fifty years ago.
The following table shows the growth of the British tea trade
for five years ending 1885 :—
India.
Ceylon.
China.
Hong
Kong.
Total
Imports.
Home Con-
sumption.
1881
1S.S2
1 833
1884
1885
45,434,130
63,576,690
69,252,435
63,208,309
63,794,025
171,676
607,081
2,005,510
2,210,983
4,242,244
151,749,592-
142,706,457
145.249,136
134.297-.091
131,234,354
10,445,758
10,820,916
10,863,695
9,411,477
8,353,829
209,801,622
210,663,133
222,262,431
213,877,759
212,143,820
160,226,911
106,069,339
170,828,431
175,090,875
162,443,215
The consumption of tea in the United Kingdom per head was in
1840 1-22 tb, which irlcreased in 1850 to 1 86 tb ; in 1860 it
reached 2 67 lb, in 1870 3 81 16, in 1880 4 06 ft, and now (1887) it
is about 5 tb.'
Next to the United Kingdom, the greatest tea-importing nation
la the United States. Not-
withstanding that tea has
from 1873 been duty free
(duty25centsper lb in 1870,
17-72 in 1871, and 15 in
1872). the habit of tea
drinking does not grow in
America as it is found to
do in the British Isles, as is
shown by the accompanying
table Of the 72,104,956 tb
of tea imported into the
United States in the year
«nded June 1885,35,895,836
tb was Chinese, 32,156,032
came from . Japan, ami
8,540,148 lb came from England
«xpo,rted, principally to Canada.
Year ending
tb entered for
Per Head
30th June.
Consumption. .
1870
40,812,189
1 06
1871
46,972,788
1 19
1872
84,224,494
0 84
1873
106,423,570
2 55
1875
64,708,079
1 47
1880
7-^, 159,266
1 44
1881
81,949,796
159
1882
79,030,854
1 50
1883
70,771,225
1 31
1884
65,774,234
1 18
1686
69,820,172
1-22
Nearly 6,0D0,1D00 lb was re-
Next to the English, the Dutch are the greatest consumers of tea
outside of China ; and the only other considerable tea-using nation
is Russia. The following table gives the amount of tea imported
in the year 1884 by the principal tea-drinking countries:—
Russia
35,600,000 ft = iS tb
per head
Holland
3,900,000 „ = -91
Denmark
820,000 ., = -04
New South ■Wales.
8,437,981 ,, = 9 15
Victoria.
11,524,205 „ = 11 99
South Australia
2,229,993 ,, - 7 00
Queensland.
2,757,277 ,, = 8 75
Cape of Good Hope
1,295,042 ,. = 5 00
By this table the Australian colonists come out as the most
inveterate tea-drinkers in the world The quantity received by
Holland in 1884 was 2,250,000 !b less than the imports of 1883.
but the average of recent times has been 4 5UO.00O tb
The quantity consumed in China has been fstitiinted as nigh as
2000 millions of pounds annually, being at the late of a little more
than B lb per head of tlie population , and. (.onsideiing the tea-
drinking habits of the people, the estimate is by no means extruva
gnnt. In this light it may be safe to affiini that the amount of
tea used yekrly throughout the world reaches the gigantic tutil
of 2500 millions of pounds.
Bibtioffrapfiif.— The litcrnture of tea is very copious but maoh scaiteicd Tho
following works may be named: — Bontekoe. Traetat van bet exe^llenstf Rruyd
Thee, Tlie ll^guc, 1079 ; Sylvestre Du/uut , T^aiia ti!ouvt:aux et Cut itui rfu Caf^
du The, et du Chocofat, 2d ed,. Lyons. \Ci>t> (uoiislalion of Ist cdi'lon by John
Cham-beriayne, London, 1085; translations nlso In Spunlsh and LiitinJ ; J O
Houssaye, MonoQraphie du The, P«iis, IM3. Robert Fortune. Thtee tcait
if'andernufs in C/iiiia, London, 1S17 , Id . i4 Journey to the Tea CoutUrtfs oj
China, London. '\'^W1 ; S. BhII. Tea Cullimtiomn China, London. 184»,-J J. L I.
JacobsoD, Uandboek voor de Kultuur tn Fabitkaite vau Ttu-t, 3 vols , 1843 , S A
Sch\varzkoj)f. Die narkotischen Ge\ntss7ntltet—i. Der Thee. Hallu. 1881. Lleui Col
E. Money. Cullivadon and Alanu/aciure o/ Tea, 3d ed , London, 1878. F T It
Deaa, Youtig Tea Planter's Companion, Lonfloii, 188G See also p8iliiinienldr>
papers and ofRcial publications of Indian Oovernmen' . Jour hoy ' Aiiatic Soc _
Jour. Agri. and Ilorti. Soc, qf India, Soc oj Arts Jvum .Ac (J PA >
TEAK
103
TEAK' may justly "je called the most valuable of all
Known timbers. For use in tropical countries it has no
equal, and for certain purposes it is preferable to other
jvoods intemperate climates also. Its price is higher than
that of any other timber, except mahogany.- Great efforts
have been made to find substitutes, but no timber has been
brought to market in sufficient quantities combining the
many valusble qualities which teak possesses.
The first good figure and description of the tree w'as
jliven by Rlicede.* The younger Linna;us called it Tedona
yiaiulis. It is a large deciduous tree, of the natural order
Wrbcitwex, with a tall straight stem, a spreading crown,
the branclilets four-sided, with largo quadrangular pith.
It is a native of. the .t^'O Indian peninsulas, and^is.also
I
'T«ak {Tedona grnndis).
found in the Philippine Islands, Java, and other islands
of the Malay Archipelago. In India proper its northern
limit is 24° 40' on the west side of the Aravalli Hills, and
in tlie centre near.Jhansi, in 25° 30' N. lat. In liurmah
it extends to the Mogoung district, in lat. 2.5° 10'. In
Bengal or Assam it is not indigenous, but plantations have
been formed in Assam as far as the 27th parallel. In the
Punjab it is grown in gardens to the 32d.
^^Teak requires a tropical climate, and the most important
forests are found in the moister districts of India, where
during the summer months heavy rains are brought -by
the south-west monsoon, the winter months being rainless.
In the interior of the Indian peninsula, where the mean
iirtnual rainfall is less than 30 inches, no teak is found,
And 'it thrives best with a mean annual fall of more than 50
! • — :■
^ The Sanskrit name of teak is sahz, aud it is certain that in India
te.nk li.is been known and used largely for considerably ninre than 2000
ye.irs. In Persia teak was used nearly 2000 years ago, and the tov/n
ofSiraf on the Persian Gulf was entirely built of it. ■ Saj is the name
in Arabic and Persian ; and in Hindi, Mahratti, and the other modern
languages derived front Sani^krit the tree is called sat^, sagican. In the
Dravidia'n languages the name Hickay and the Portuguese, adopting
this, called it icke^ teca, whence the English name.
* The rate in the London market since 18G0 has Huctuated between
iClO and £15 per loail of 50 cubic feet.
"^^t/wlits MoIaharir.us, vol. iv. tab. 27, 1683.
inches. The mean annual temperature which suits it best
lies between 75° and 81° Fahr. . Near the coast the tree
is absent, and the most valuable forests are on low hills
up to 3000 feet. It grows on a great variety of soils, but
there is one indispensable condition — perfect drainage or
a dry subsoil. On level ground, with deep alluvial soil,
teak does not often form regularly shaped .stems, probably
because the subsoil drainage is imperfect.
During the dry season the tree is Ieatie!?.3;'"in "not
localities the leaves fall in January, but in moist places
the tree remains green till March. ■ At' the end of the dry
season, when the first monsoon rains fall, the fresh foliage
comes out.' The leaves, which stand opposite, are from 1
to 2 feet in length and from 6 to 12 inches in breadth.
On coppice shoots the leaves are' much larger, and not
rarely from 2 to 3 feet long. In shape they somewhat
resemble those of the tobacco plant, but their substance is
hard and the surface rough. ^ ^The small white flowers are
very numerous, on large erect cross-branched panicles,
which terminat"e the branches.' They appear during the
rains, generally in July and August, and the seed ripens in
January and February.' On the east side of the Indian
peninsula,'-the teak flowers during the rains in October and
November.' In Java the forests are leafless in September,'
while during March and April, after the rains have com-
menced, they are clothed with foliage and the flowers open.
During the rainy season the tree is readily recognized at. a
considerable distance by the whitish flower 'panicles, which
overtopthe green foliage, and during the dry season the
feathery seed-bearing panicles distinguish it from all other
trees. The small oily seeds are enclosed in a hard bony
1-4 celled nut, which is surrounded by a thick covering,'
consisting of a (ionse.felt of matted hairs. The fruit. is
enclosed by the enlarged membranous calyx, in appearance
like an irregularly plaited or crumpled bladder. The tree
seeds freely every year, but its spread by means of selfJ
sown seed is impeded by the forest fires of the dry season',
which in India generally occur in March and April, after
the seeds have ripened and have partly, fallen. Of the'
seeds which escape, numbers are washed^ down the hills
by the first heavy rains of, the monsoon. These collect
in .the valleys, and it is here that groups of seedlings and
young trees are frequently found. A portion of the seed
remains on the tree; this falls gradually after the rains
have commenced, and thus escapes the fires of the hot
season. The germination of the seed is slow and uncer-
tain ; a large amount of moisture is needed to saturate the
spongy covering ; many seeds do not germinate until the
second or third y^ar, and many do not come up at all.
The bark of the stem is about half an inch thick, grey or
brownish grey, the sapwood white; the heartwood of the
green tree has a pleasant and strong aromatic fragrance and
a beautiful golden-yellow colour, which on seasoning zoan
darkens into, brown, mottled with darker streaks. The
timber retains its aromatic fragrance to a great age. 'On
a transverse section the wood is marked by large pores,
which are more numerous and larger in the spring wood,'
or the inner belt of each annual ring, while they are less
numerous and smaller in the autumn wood or outer belt.
In this manner the growth of each successive year is
marked in the wood, and the age of a tree may be_
determined by counting the annual rings.
The principal value of teak timber for use in\vavm countries is
its extraordinary durability. In India and in Burmah beams of
the wood in good preservation are often found in buildings several
centuries old, and instances are known of teak beams having lasted
more than a thousand years.' Being one of the few Indian timbers
' In one of the oldest buildings among the ruins of the old city of
Vijayanagar, on the banks of the Tungabhadra iu southern Indi.i, the
superstructure is supported by jibinks of teakwood 1^ inches thick.
These plauks were exajnined in 1881 ; they were in a good state of
104
TEAK
which ^ire leally dural.le, teak has always been used for buildings
particularly for temples, and in India it has been the chief timber
employed for shipbuilding. When iron commenced to bo exten-
sively used for the last-named purpose, it was supposed that the
demand foi teak would decrease. This, however, has not been the
case for the »ood is still very largely used for the backing of iron-
clad's and for decks oi large vessels. It is also used for furniture,
for door and window frames, for the construction of railway car
riag-3. and for many other purposes White ants eat the sapwood,
but rarely attack the heaitwood of teak It is not, however, proof
against the borings of the teiedo, from whose attacks the teak piles
of the wharves in the Rangoon river have to be protected by a
sheathing ol metal
Once seasoned, teak timlwr does not split, crack, shrink, or
nlur Its shape In these qualities it is superior to most timbers
In couUct with lion, iieitlier the iron nor the teak sutfer.", and
in this respect it u far superior to oak. It is not very hard,
is easily worked, and takes a beautiful polish it has great elas-
ticity and strength, and is not very heavy. The average weight
of perfectly seasoned *ood fluctuates between 38 and 46 tb per
cubic foot.' Its weight, therefore, is a little less than that of
English oak Green teak timber, however, is heavier than water,
and unless thoroughly seasoned it cannot be floated In Burmah,
therefore, where the rivers are used to float the timber to the sea
purts. a peculiar, mode of seasouing teak by girdling has been
practised fioui time immemorial Girdling consists in making a
deep circular cut through bark and sap into the heartwood, so as
completely to sever communication between bark and sapwood
above and below the cut In teak, as in oak and other trees with
'well marked heartwood, the circulation of the sap only takes place
in the sapwood, and the girdled tree therefore dies after a few days
if the operation has been efl'ectually performed But if even the
smallest band of sapwood is left connecting the outer layers of
wood above and below the girdle, the tree is not killed, and often
recovers -completely The girdled tree is allowed to stand one or
two- years, and longer if a very large-sized tree. Being exposed to
the wind and to the action of the sun, the timber of a girdled tree
seasons more rapidly and. more completely than that of a tree
felled green , The teak produced in the presidencies of Madras
and Bombay and in the Central Provinces is as a rule felled green,
and even when dry it generally is a little heavier than the timber
from Buiniab.^ For a long time to come, the rivers of Burmah
and Siam will continueto alford the most convenient and most
«conomir..il routes for the transport of timber Indeed the forests
drained by the Salwfn and its feeders are not likely ever to be
worked otherwise than on the present jilan, under which the logs
are floated singly over the rapids and are caught and rafted lower
down, at the kyodan or rope station, 70 miles above Maulmain.
As already mentioned, teak wood contains an aromatic oil, winch
(rives it a peculiarly pleasant smell and an oily surface when fresh
cut. To this oil may probably with iusticc be ascribed its great
durability In Burmah oil is extracted from the limber on a small
scale, for" medicinal purposes, by filling an earthen pot, which is
placed inverted upon another, with chips of wood, and putting fire
round it. upon which the oil runs down into the lower vessel.
Accordipg to the colour and texture of the wood, several vanetics.
of teak are distinguished in India, Burmah, and Java; in the
timber trade, however, these distinctions are of no importance.
Teak as well as other trees, when standing isolated, forms side
branches far down the stem, and the wood of such trees is more
knotty and wavy, and generally heavier and darker-coloured than
the timber of trees which have grown close together in a dense forest
Apart from the manner in which the tree had grown up in the
forest, soil, elevation, and climate have a great influence upon the
grain and' the mechanical qualities of teak as of other timbers.
Most of the larger logs brought to market have an irregular crack
or hollow in the centre, which commences at the butt and often
runs up a long way. There is little doubt that this is generally
due to the action of the fires, which scorch and often destroy the
bark of young trees. Such external injuries are apt to induce
decay in the wood Moreover, most teak seedlings which come up
naturally are cut down to the ground by the fires of the hot season ;
preservat.on and showed the peculiar structure of le.ak timber in a
very niarked manner They had beeu in the building for 600 years
{lr)dian FoTtsier. vol vii p 260). In the wjll of a palace of the
Persian kings near Baghdad, which was pillaged in the 7th century,
two Americans found in 1811 pieces of Indian leak which were
perfectly sound (Ouseley. TravtU in Varioits CouiUnes of the East,
vol II p 280, note 67). In the old cave temples ol Salsettc and
elsewhere in western India pieces of teak have been found in good
pres»rr»ti.jn which must have been more than 2000 years old.
' Ai 14 8 lb per cubic foot a load of 50 cubic feet weighs a ton
(2240 lb). lieDce in the Bunnali ports a ton of teak timber is taken as
equivalent to a load of 50 c-ibic feet
• It has been erroneously 5Ul'!<i that the tree In Burmah is lapped
for lU oil before felllug
some are killed, but many sprout again during the rains, and rtii»
is generally repeated ypar after year, until a sapling is produced
strong enough to outlive the fire. Such saplings have a very larga
pith, "which dries up, causing a hollow in the heart. Or a piece of
the old shoot killed by the fire is enclosed by the new wood, and
this also is apt to give rise to a hollow.
The leaves of the teak tree contain a red dye, which in Malabar
was formerly used to dye silk and cotton. Natives of Burmah use
the leaves as plates, to wrap up parcels, and for thatching.
In its youth tb^ tree grows with extreme rapidity. Two. year-
old seedlings on good soil are 5 to 10 feet high, and insUncts of
more rapid growth are not uncommon. In the plantations which
have been made since 1856 in Burmah, the Uak has on good soil
attained an average height of 60 feet in 15 years, with a girth,
breast high, of 19 inches. This is between 16" and 18° N. lat., with
a mean annual temperature of 78° F. and a rainfall of 100 inches.
In the Burmah plantations it is estimated that the tree will,
under favourable circumstances, attain a diameter of 24 inches
(girth 72 inches) at the age of 80. Timber of that size is market-
able, but the timber of the natural forests which is at present
brought to market in Burmah has grown much more slowly, tho
chief reason being the annual forest fires, which harden and im.
poverish the soil. lo the natural forests of Burmah and India
teak timber with adiamcter of 24 indies is never less than 100 anil
often more than 200 years old In future, the timber grown ia
plantations and in forests under regular management may be ex-
pected to grow much faster , and there is no grouud for anticipating
th.it rapidly grown timber will be less valuable than that of slow
growth, which is at present brought to market.
Like the other trees of the dry deciduous forest, teak does not
attain any extraordinary size. The trees are not generally more
than 100 to 150 feet high, even under the most favourablo
circumstances, and stems more than 100 feet to the first branch
are not often found Exceptionally ull trees were measured in
1861 in the Gwaythay forest in Pegu, east of the Silang river, OD
gneiss The stems had IflS to 114 feet to the first branch, with a
girth, at 6 feel off the ground, from 7 to 16 feeU Larger girths,
up to 25 feet, are not uncommon
The tcik tree does not usually form pure forests. It is asso-
ciated with bamboos and a great variety of other trees, which have
little market value, and, as a rule, thrives best in such company.
Hence in the plantations established in Burmah, the object has
been to raise forests of teak mixed with bamboos and other trees.
Most of the teak timber produced is consumed in India.
The produce of the magnificent forests of Travancore, Cochin,
the Madras presidency, Coorg, Mysore, Bombay, Bcrar, and the
Central Provincas is all so cousiinied. Formerly there was a
considerable export from the ports of the western coast, — Malabar,
Kanara, Sural, and Broach,— but the countiy at present requires
all the teak which its forests can produce ; indeed tho demand is
in excess of the supply, and large quantities are imported from.
Burmah to Calcutta, Madras, "Bombay, and other Indian ports.
Small quantities are still exported from the ports of the westcru
coast to Aiabia and the coast of Africa. The chief exjiorl is
from Burmah, principally from Rangoon aud Maulmam. Of the
other teak producing countries, Java exports a little ; there have
also been exports from Saigou ; and since 1S82 Bankok has sent
considerable quantities to Europe. But the Burmah coast is the
chief source of supply at present Rangoon has for a very long
time been an important place for shipbuilding, teak being the chief
timber used: between 1786 and 1825 111 European vessels were
built at Rangoon, aggregating 35,000 Ions At the same time
timber was exported, and, when the place was taken by the Bntish
in 1852, teak was the chief article of exfmi t. Maulmain became
British territory at the close of the first Burmese war m 1826. At
that time the place was a large fishing village, and it was mainly
through the export of teak timber and the shipbuildmg trade
that it attained its present importance. From 1829 to 1841
upwards of 50,000 loads of teak timber were exported, and, lo
addition, 68 vessels were built during that period, aggregating
15 680 tons, and estimated to have lequned for their construction
24 000 loads of teak timber. The forests from whic.i Mauliuam
first derived its supplies are situaled on the Altaian river, a feeder
of the Salwin. In 1836, however, timber began to come dowa
from more distant forest', and in 1841 onefourth only of the
supply was brought from the Altaraii forests.
The increase in the export of timber from the Burmah ports was
slow at first, but has gone on rapidly since Rangoon became a.
British port Since that time the timber brought to the Burmab
ports has come from the following sources;-(l) from the forests
n the British coast provinces, Pegu and Tenasserim ; (2) frona the
forests in the former kingdom of Burmah, floated to Rangoon down
the SiWng and Irrawaddy rivers ; (3) from the foresU in the Shan
states formerly tributary lo Burmah, from the harenn. country,
and from Siam, which is all floated to Maulmam ly the Sa win
river. Since 1356 the increase of the supply denved from these
three sources has been large, as will be apparent from the following
T E A — T E G
105
«vcrag«s for tho eight years 1S56-57 to 1863-64 and for the two
vcars 1SS3-S1 and 1S84-85 :—
FYom rhe British coast provinces, Pegu and Tenftsseritn.
From Burmah by Stuini; and Irrawaddy nvers
From Sban states, Karenni and SJam, by Satwin liver...
Total supplies...
Exports by sea
Locai consumption in Rangoon and Maulmain.
1S56-7 to
1863-4.
Loads.
22,675
6,S90
55,491
85,056
76,763
8.233
1SS3-4.
18S4-5.
Loads.
44,228
66,663
163,751
274,643
153,192
121,450
Of the quantities exported, between 3S,000 and 65,000 loads ' have
gone beyond India during this period, the balance liaving been
sent to Calcutta, Bombay, and other Indian ports. The qunntitiea
here stated do not incliide the timber consumed in Upper Burmah,
nor that brought from the forests drained by the Menam and
Mekliong rivers on the cast side of the Indo-Chinese Peninsula, nor
the teak produced in Java and the other islands of tho Malay
Archipelago, and in the extensive forests of the western peninsula-
of India. No data ace yet available for a precise estimate ; but
the total amount yielded by.these forest^ and consumed locally or
exported, appears to be not less than 500,000 loads or tous a year.
iu British India a large portion of. the teak-producing tracts
have since >856 been placed under conservancy management, and
sfinilar meastires will doubtless be extended to . tho forests in
Upper Burmah, now anrie.tcd to the British empire, as well as to
the forests of the feudatory native states. In British India, the
area of state forests demarcated m order, to be permanently con-
served' was in 1885 (in round fibres) 33,000 square miles, and
the teak-producing tracts included in this area may be estimated^
to cover about 12,000 square' miles, or 7,680,000 acres. Large
additions will be made to this area, especially in Upper Burmah,
Of teak plantations, 12,000 acres have been formed in Burmah,
563 acres in Coorg, 3436 at Nilambui' in M.ilabar, and about 2000
acres in other districts. There are good'grounds for estimating
the future yield of plantations at the rate of 50 cubic feet (one
ton) per acre annually. The natural forests will, in their present
impoverished condition, not furnish more than one cubic foot per
acre annually, but, as protection against fire is gradually extend-
ing, the proportion of teak is everywhere being increased by cultural
operations in the forests, and the effect of' these measures will
eventually manifest itself by a considerable increase in the yield.
In their present condition, the natural forests demarcated in India
up to 1887 may be expected to yield 150,000 tons a year, while
the produce of the plantations will eventually add 18.000 tons
more. The teak forests in J.ava were surveyed in 1871, and their
area was found to be 2280 square miles, while the plantations in
that island in 1880 amounted to 24,710 acres. These figures will
serve to show that, if the system commenced in India aud Java
is maintained, there is no reason to apprehend a diminution of
the teak supply. (D. BR.)
TEAL (Old English Tele), a word of uncertain origin,
but doubtless cognate with the Dutch Taling (formerly
Talingh and Telingh), and this apparently with the Scandi-
Tiayiao- AUeling-And (Briinnich, Omitkol. Borealis, p. 18)
and Atling, which it seems impossible not to connect with
the Scottish Atteile or Atteal, to be fdund in many old
records, though this last word (however it be spelt) is
generally used in conjunction with Teal, as if to mean a
different kind of bird ; and commentators have shewn a
marvellous ineptitude in surmising -what that bird was.
The Teal is the Aiias erecca of Linnrens, and the smallest of the
European Anatidm, as well as one of the most abundant and highly
•esteemed for the table. It breeds in many parts of the British
Islands, making its nest in places^ very like those chosen by the
Wild Duck, A. boscas ; but there is no doubt that by far the greater
number of those that are taken in decoys, or are shot, during the
autumn and winter are of foreign origin. While the female pre-
nents the usual incoaspicnous mottled plumage of the same sex in
most species of Analirue, the male is one of the handsomest of hi^
kind. Hia deep chestnut head and throat are diversified on either
aide by a line of buff, which, springing from the gape, runs upward
to the eye, in front of which it forms a fork, one prong passing
l)ackward above and the other below, enclosing a dark glossy. green
patch, and both losing themselves in the elongated feathers of the
* Of the teak exported to foreign countriea from India in 1883-84,
■27,358 tons went to Great, Britain, 8594 tons to Egypt, 2066 tons to
Ceylen, 1984 tc«9 to Japan, and 1823 tons to the Cape of Good Hope.
The total- quantity exported was 46,471 tons.
* Not including 16,000 aqoare miles of second class reserrea in the
Central ProvincSB
I
hind-head and nape. The back and sides of the body appear to b»
grey, an effect produced by delicate transverse pencillings ol black on'
a diill white ground. The outer lanceolate scapulars have one-half
of their webs pure white, forming a conspicuous stripe along the
side of tho back. The breast is of a pale salmon or peach-blossom'
colour, each feather in front bearing a roundish dark spot, but
these spots lessen in number and size lower down, and the warm
tint passes into white on the belly. The tail-coverts above and
below are velvety black, but those at the side are pale oiange.
, The Teal inhabits almost the whole of Europe aud Asia,— from
Iceland to Japan,— in winter visiting Northern Africa and India.
It occasionally occurs on the western shores of the -Atlantic; but
its place in North Anieiica is taken by its leprescntativc, A.
earolincnsis, the male of which is easily to be recognized by the
absence of the upper buff line on the side of the head and of the
white scapular- stripe, while ho presents a whitish crescentic bar
on the sides of the lower neck just in front of the wings.
Species more or less allied to these two are found in
most other parts of the world, and among such species are
some (for instance, the A. gihberifrons of the Australian
Region and the A. eatoni.ol Kerguelen Island) in which
the mule wears almost the same inconspicuous pluraag* as
•the female. But the determination of the birds which
should be technically considered " Teal.'i, " and belong
to the subgenus jS\ltium (generally misspelt Nettion), as
distinguished from other groups of Anatina:, is a task not
yet successfully attempted, and much confusion has been
caused by associating with them such species as the
Gaeganey (vol. X p. 80) and its allies of the group Quer-
quedula. Others again have not yet been discriminated
from the. Wigeons (q.v.), the Pintail-Ducks, Dafita, or
even from the typical form of Anas' {cf. Duck, vol. vii. p,
505), into each of, which subgenera the Teals, Nettium,'
seem to pass without any great break, . In ordinary talk
"Teal " seem's to stand for any Duck-like bird of small
size, and in that sense the word is often applied to the
members of the genus Neilopns, though systematists will
have it that they are properly Geese. In the same loose
sense the word is often applied to the two most beautiful
of the Family Anatidse, belonging to the genus jEx
(commonly misspelt Aix) — the Carolina Duck of North
America, ^. sponsa (not to be confounded with the above-
named Anas carolinensis or NeUium carolinense), and the
Mandarin-Duck of China, jE. galericulata. Hardly less
showy than these are the two species of the subgenus
£unetta,—th^ Falcated Duck, £. falcata, and the Baikal
Teal, E./ormosa, — both from eastern Asia, but occasionally
appearing in Europe. Some British authors have referred
to the latter of these well-marked species certain Ducks that
from time to time occur, but they are doubtless hybrids,
though the secret of their parentage may be unknown ; and
in this way a so-called Bimaculated Duck, Anas bimaculata,
was for many years erroneously admitted as a good species
to the British list, but of late this has been properly
discarded, (a. n.)
TECHNICAL EDUCATION. The special education,
the object of which is to train persons in the arts and
■sciences that underlie the practice of some trade or pro-
fession,- is technical education. Schools in which this
training is provided are known as technical schools. In
its wiSest sense, technical education embraces all kinds of
instruction that have direct reference to the career a person
ia following or preparing to follow; but it is usual and
convenient to restrict the term to the special training
which helps to qualify a person to engage in some branch
of productive industry. This education may consist of
the explanation of the processes concerned in production,
or of instruction in art or science in its relation to in-
dustry, but it may also include the acquisition of the
manual skill which production necessitates. The term
technical, as applied to education, arose from the neceasif.y
of finding a word to indicate the special training which
was needed in consequence of the altered conditions of
XXIII. — 14
106
TECHNICAL EDUCATION
production during ths present century. Wtilst the changed
conditions of production, consequent mainly on the appli-
cation, of st.>am power to machinery, demanded a special
trainfhg for those who were to be engaged in produc-
tive industry, the- prevalent system of education was not
adapted to the requirements of these persons, and schools
were wanted in which the necessary instruction could
be obtained. Other circumstances resulting mainly from
the application of steam power to machinery have rendered
technical education necessary. Production on a large
scale led to a great extension of the principle of the
division of labour, in consequence of which it was found
economical to keep a man constantly engaged at the same
kind of work, since the more he practised it the quicker
and more skilful he becarne. Thus employed, the workman
learned little or nothinjg of the process of tire manufacture
at which he assisted, or of other departments of the work
than tlie particular one in which he was engaged, and his
only opportunity of acquiring such knowledge was out-
side the workshop or factory in a technical school. The
economy effected by the division of labour led to the
extension of the principle to other industries than those in
which machinery is largely employed. There are many
trades in whjch manual skill is as necessary now as ever, but
even in these the methods of instruction prevailing under
the system of apprenticeship are now almost obsolete.
In many industries, including trades in which machinery
is not as yet extensively employed, production on a large
scale has increased the demand for unskilled labour,
numbers of hands being required to prepare the work
to be finished by a few artisans. Rapidity of execution
is attained by keeping a workman at the same work,
which after a time he succeeds in mechanically perform-
ing, and continues to do until some machine is invented
to take his place. In most trades, as formerly practised,
the master employed a few apprentices who assisted him
in his work, and who learnt from him to understand the
details of their craft, so that, when the term of their appren-
ticeship was over, they were competent to practise as
journeymen. But now the master has neither time nor
opportunity to instruct young lads, and the old relation
of master and apprentice is changed into that of capitalist
and workman. In consequence of these altered relations
between employer and employed, there is an acknowledged
tvant of properly trained workmen in a number of trades
in which skilful hand work is stiir needed ; and in these
trades a demand has arisen for technical schools, or some
other substitute for apprenticeship, as a means of suit-
ably training workmen and foremen. The ever-increas-
ing competition in production has led to the employment,
in many trades, of children to do work of a mechanical
kind requiring little skill ; but, whilst thus employed,
these young people have little opportunity of learning those
parts of their trade in which .skill and special knowledge
are needed ; and when they are grown up, and seek higher
wages, they are dismissed to make room for other children.
Numbers of young men are thus thrown upon the labour
market, competent to do nothing more than children's
work, and to earn children's wages; and knowing no trade
to which they can apply their hands. To remedy this,
by creating some substitute for the old apprenticeship, is
one of the objects of a system of |technical education.
A complete system of technical education should provide
necessary instruction for the different classes of persons
engaged in productive industry. It is usual to divide
these persons into three classes : — (1) workmen or journey-
men ; (2) foremen or overseers ; (3) managers or masters.
The industries in which they are employed may be
grouped under four beads :— (1) those involving the use of
Bxl'jnsivo machinery, such as iron and steel manufacture,
machine making, the textile industries, and some of the
chemical trades ; (2) those which mainly require the use
of hand tools, as cabinet-making, brick-work, plumbing,
and tailoring ; (3) those depending on artistic skill, as wood
and stone carving, metal-chasing, decorative work, and
industrial designing generally ; (4) agriculture in all its
branches. These industries will be referred to as manu-
factures, handicrafts, art industries, and. agriculture. The
foregoing classification comprises groups which necessarily,'
to some extent, overlap one another. Every factory con-
tains a carpenter's and smith's shop, and handicraftsmen
of group (2) are required in every manufacturing concern.'
Whilst the industries in which hand labour is exclusively
employed are becoming fewer aud fewer, there are many
trades which, owing to the frequent invention of labour
saving appliances, are passing gradually from the class oi
handicrafts to that of manufactures. In these trades, of
which watch and clock making and boot and shoe making
may be taken as examples, there is still a demand for goods
largely if not entirely produced by hand work. In such
trades, owing to the absence of facilities for instruction in
the ordinary shops, there is a want of skilled hand labour
which there is an increasing difficulty in satisfying, and to
supply this want technical schools of different kinds have
been established. Then, again, there are many branches
of manufacturing industry which greatly depend for their
success upon the designer's art, and it is necessary that the
industrial designer should possess a knowledge of the pro-
cesses of the manufacture in which his designs will be
utilized, as well as of the properties and capabilities of the
material to which they will be applied. Indeed, it is the
possession of this knowledge which mainly distinguishes
the industrial designer from the ordinary artist. To
determine the best training for such designers is one of
the problems of technical education. There are' many
trades, too, in which the handicraftsman and the designer
should be united. This is the case in such industries
as wood-engraving, metal-chasing, and silversmith's work.
In these and other trades the true artisan is the artist
and handicraftsman combined.
- In order to reconcile some of, the different views which
are held as to the objects of technical education, it is
necessary to keep in mind the broad distinction, above
referred to, between the conditions of production on a
large scale, as in those industries in which goods are manu-
factured by the use of extensive labour-saving machinery,
and in those trades in which hand "work is chiefly em-
ployed. Much of the diversity of opinion regarding the
objects of technical education is due to the difference
of standpoint from which the problem is regarded. The
volume of the trade and commerce of Britain "depends
mainly on the progress of its manufacturing industriesj
It is these which chiefly affect the exports and imports.
The aim of manufacturers is to produce cheaper and better
goods than can be produced by other manufacturers at
home or abroad ; and technical .education is valuably to
them, in so far as it enables ,them" to do so. But the
artisan engaged in hand induaries looks to technical
education for the means by which, he may acquire a know-
ledge of the principles of his l'iifde» which the absence of
the systerii 6f apprenticeship prevents bim from acquiring
in the shop. Hence the artisan and, the manufactiirer
approach the consideration of the qnestion. from different
sides. To the spinner or weaver who almost exclusively
employs women to tend his machinery, or to the manu-
facturing chemist •■vhose workpeople are little more than
labourers employed in carrying to and fro materials,
knowing little or nothing of the scientific principles under-
lying the complicated processes in which they are engaged,
the technical education of the workpeople may seem to
TECHNICAL EDUCATION
107
be a matter of little mooient What such manufacturers
require are the services of a few skilled engineers, artistic
designers, or scientitic chemists From the manufacturer's
|)oint of view, therefore, technical instruction is not so
much needed for the hands he employs in his work as for
the heads that direct it. But in trades in which machi-
nery plays a subsidiary part, technical teaching supplies
the place of that instruction which, in former times, the
master gave to his apprentice, and the workman looks
to it to supply him with the knowledge of the principles
and practice of his trade, on the acquisition of which his
individual success greatly depends In the former class
of industries, technical education is needed mainly for
the training of managers , in the latter, for the training
of workmen. Hence has arisen a double cry, — for the
teaching of art and of the higher branches of science,
with a view to their application to manufacturing industry,
and for the teaching of trades, and of the scientific facts
which help to explain the processes and methods con-
nected with the practice of these trades. This double cry
has led to the establishment of technical universities and
of trade schools.
Owing to the conditions under which manufacturing
industry is now carried on, it is difficult to select com-
petent foremen from the rank and file of the workmen.
The ordinary hands gain a very limited and circumscribed
acquaintance with the details of the manufacture in which
they are engaged,' and have little opportunity of acquiring
that general knowledge of various departments of work,
and of the structure of the machinery in use, which is
essential to the foreman or overseer. It is in evening
technical classes that this supplementary instruction,
which it is the workman's interest to acquire and the
master's to encourage, can be obtained. The history of
invention shows how frequently important improvements
in machinery are made by the workman or minder in
charge of it, and adds weight to the arguments already
adduced for giving technical instruction to persons of all
grades employed in manufacturing industry. To these
advantages of technical education, as affecting the work-
men themselves as well as the progress of the industry in
■.vhich they are engaged, must be added the general im-
provement in the character of the work produced, resulting
from the superior and better-trained intelligence of those
who have had the benefit of such instruction.
In order that the different classes of persons who are to
be engaged in productive industry may receive a fitting
preparatory training, the programme of elementary and
secondary as well as of the higher education must be
organized with reference to their special requirements. If
the demand for technical instruction is to "be fully satisfied,
a great part of our existing system of education must be
reconstructed, and the training provided in our several
schools must be made a more fitting preparation for indus-
trial work than it is at present.
Schools in which the course of instruction is not special-
ized with a view to any particular indu: -.ry, but is so
arranged as to form a general preparation for manufac-
turing or other trade pursuits, are often spoken of as
professional, technical, or trade schools ; but such schools
must be distinguished from apprenticeship schools, the
object of which is to teach trades. Of the former class
of schools there are excellent examples in the different
countries of Europe as well as in the United States, and
some few have recently been established in the United
Kingdom. Of the latter class the best examples are
found in France and Austria. The study of these schools,
and of the means of providing fitting education for the
different classes of producers, may be simfrtified by a state-
ment of the following propositions -■ —
1. The ordinary education of all persons who are likely
to be engaged in productive industry should be determined
by the general requirements of their future work. This
proposition affeetia the curriculum of all schools^in which
different classes of producers are to be trained, i.e., of
primary, secondary, and higher schools, and involves the
consideration of the extent to which, in such schools,
modern languages, science, drawing, and manual instruc-
tion should take the place of literary and classical studies.
2. Special schools or classes should be established (a)
for instruction in art, and in those sciences which serve
to explain the processes of productive industry, including
agriculture, manufactures, and engineering, as well as in
the application of art and science to these departments of
industry; (6) for the teaching of, and in certain cases for
practice in, various handicrafts or trades.
3. The special schools should be adapted to the require-
ments of the different grades of workers, and to the
different kinds of work in which they are or are likely to
be engaged.
A survey of the technical schools in different countries
shows how these different requirements are met. Owing
to th6 complexity of the problem, a complete or an ideal
system of technical education is nowhere to be found.
Schools have been established to meet local and present
wants, and the greatest variety exists in the attempts that
have been made to establish schools in accordance with the
foregoing propositions.
1. Worhmen. — Many attempts have been made to provide a
substitute for apprenticeship, but hitherto with do great 'success.
Two classes of workpeople have to be considered — {]) those engaged
in inauafacturijig iodustriea, and (2) those engaged in handicraft
industries. The education of all classes of workpeople begins in
the public elementary schools ; and, in view of the futiire occupa-
tion of the children, it may be taken for granted that primary
instruction should be practical, aud should include drawijig and
elementary .science, with some amount of manual training for boys,
and with needlework, cookery, and domestic econoruy for girls.
In nearly every country of Europe, and in the United States,
primary instruction includes drawing, in addition to reading,
writing, aud reckoning. In England this is not yet the case,
drawing being taught in very few schools outside of the jurisdiction
of the London school board. In "France, Belgium, Holland, and
Sweden handicraft instruction is generally included in the cur-
riculum of elementary schools. Rudimentary science is also taught
in nearly all the primary schools of Europe. Modelling is taught
both to boys and girls in many Continental schools ; and in
Sweden '*slojd," or elementary woodwork, in which simple and
useful articles are constructed with the fewest possible tools, is
taught with considerable success to chililren of both sexes.
In Germany and Switzerland there exists an excellent system
of evening coutinuation schools, known as Foribildutigs- or Ergdnz*-
UTigs-Schulen, in which the instruction of the children who leave
school before fourteen, and of those who leave at that age, is con""
tinned. In most of these schools drawing is taught with special
reference to local industries. In England an attempt is Iwing
made to attract children to evening schools by means of recreative
classes. These classes are intended to continue the child's general
education, and to supplement it by some amount of practical
teaching between the time that he leaves the elementary school
and is prepared to tike advantage of evening technical instruction.
The training of most workpeople, and of nearly all those who ar&
engaged in manufacturing industry, consists of — (1) primary teach-
ing in elementary schools ; (2) practice in the factory or shop ; (3)
evenin" technical instruction.
In all the principal towns throughout Europe evening classes
have been established for teaching drawing, painting, and design-
ing, and the elements of science in their application to special
industries. On the Continent these classes arc mainly supported
by the municipalities, by tlie chambers of commerce, by industiial
or trade societies, by county hoards, and in some cases by the fees
of the pupils. They receive little or no support from the state.
They are well attended by workpeojilo of all grades, who aie en-
couraged by their employers to profit by these opportunities of
instruction. In Eugbud evening technical instruction is more
systematically organized than in any other country. It is under
the direction of the committee of the council of education known,
as the Science and Art Department, and of the City and Guilds of
London Institute for the advancement of technical education, an
institute founded aud supported by the corpoiatiou aud by a large
108
TECHNICAL EDUCATION
oumber of the livery companies of London. The department
fincourages instruction in pure science and in art , the institute
in the application of science, and to some extent of art also, to
different trades.
Botli the department and the institute make grants on behalf of
properly registered teachers on the results of the examination of
their pupils. The directory of the department contains a detailed
syllabus of the twenty-five different subjects on the teaching of
which grants are paid, and in the programme of the institute are
found syllabuses of instruction in the technology of fifty different
trade subjects. In the evening classes organi^^ed by the depart-
ment, as well as in those in connexion with the institute, the
■workman or foreman engaged in any manufacturing industry has
the opportunity, by payment of a very small fee, of studying
art in all its branches, science theoretically and practically, and
the technology of any particular industry. Provided his early
education enables him to take advantage of this instruction, no
better system has been suggested of enabling workmen, whilst
earning wages at an early age, to acquire manual skill by continuous
practice, and at the same time to gain a knowledge of the principles
of science connected witTi their work and explanatory of the pro-
cesses of the manufacture in which they are engaged.
For those engaged in handicraft trades this eveuing Instruction
is equally valuable, and in many parts of Europe there exist
evening tiude schools in which the workman is able to supplement
the " sectional" practice he acquires in the shop by more general
practice in other branches of his trade. In Vienna, for example,
and in other parts of Austria, there are foUnd practical evening
classes for carpenters, turners, joiners, metal-workers, and others;
and similar classes, some of which are subsidized by the City
and Guilds Institute, have recently been established in England.
Throughout Europe schools for weaving, with practical work at
the loom and pattern designing, have existed for many years.
To provide a training more like the old system of apprenticeship,
schools have been established xn many parts of Europe which are
known as professional, trade, or apprenticeship schools {ecoles pro-
/essionctlcs, icoles des apprentis, Fachschulen). The object is to
train workmen ; and the pupils, after completing their course of
instruction in such a school, are supposed to have learnt a trade.
The school is the substitute for the shop. In such a school the
pupils have the advantage of being taught their trade systemati-
cally and leisurely, and production is made subsidiary to instruc
tion. Under such an artificial system of production, the pupil is
less likely to acquire excellence of workmanship and smartness of
habit than in the mercantile shop, under the strain of severe com-
petition. Moreover, the cost of maintenance of these schools
renders it impossible to look to them as a general substitute for
apprenticeship. By sending into the labour market, however, a
few highly -trained workmen, who are absorbed in various works
and exert a beneficial influence on other workmen, these schools
serve a useful purpose. Schools of this kind have been tried with
more or less success in different countries. In Paris there is the
well-known ficole Diderot for the training of mechanics, fitters,
smiths, &c. , and similar schools have been established in other
parts of France. A furniture-trade school of the same category
has recently been opened in Paris, and for many years a society of
Christian Brethren have directed a large school in which several
tlifferent trades have been taught. In this establishment, situated
in the Rue Vaugirard, all the secular and general instruction is
^ven gratuitously by the brothers, and in the several shops
attached to the school skilled workmen are employed, who in
«truct the pupil apprentices, and utilize their labour This
system combines many of the advantages of shop work and school
>T^ork, but it dcpccds financially for its success upon the religious
spirit which actuates its promoters and supporters. The Artane
school, near Dublin, is conducted on somewhat similar ^iriuciples,
but is intended for a lower class of children In Aus*''»a, particu-
larly in the rural districts, there are numerous schools for the
training of carpenters, joiners, turners, cabinetmakers, workers in
stone and marble, in silver and other metals, &c. Schools of the
same class are found in Germany, Italy, and elsewhere. It is oaly
in certain cases, however, that apprenticeship schools can be said
to satisfactorily answer the purpose for which they have been
established. "Where a new industry, especially in rural districts,
has to be created . where decaying industries need to be revived ,
Avhcre machinery is superseding hand work, and, owing to the
demands for ordinary hands, there is a dearth of skilled workmen .
•where through the effects of competition itnd other causes the trade
is carried on under conditions in which competent workmen cannot
"be properly trained in the ordinary shop. — in these cases, and in
■various art industries, an apppenticcship school may prove to be
the best means of training workmen, and of advancing particular
trades. Generally, an apprenticeship school should be looked upon
as a temporary expedient, as a form of relief applied at the birth
cr during any temi>orary depression of a particular industry The
|)ropcr training school for workmen is the factory or shop.
2. Foremen. — The foreman must be familiar with the various
branches of work he is to overlook, and the training which th^
workman receives in the factory or shop affords him but scanty
opportunities of obtaining this general knowledge. The foreman
needs also a generally superior education. How then are foremen
to be trained ' The problem is somewhat easier than that of train-
ing workmen, because the number required is fewer The variety
of schools in Europe devoted to this purpose is very great There
are three distinct ways in which foremen are being trained.
(a) The evening technical classes in Britain and on the Contmenl
offer to ambitious workmen an opportunity of acquiring a know-
ledge of other departments of the trade than those in which they
are engaged, as well as of the scientific principles underlying their
work. These classes serve the double purpose of improving the
workpeople and of affording a means of discovermg those who art
best fitted to occupy higher posts.
(6) Special schools have been established for the training of fore-
men There are many trade schools of this kind in which selected
boys are received after leaving the elementary scbool The best
known are those at Chalons, Aix, Nevers, Angers, and Lillo in
France. These schools are intended for the training of fortmeji in
engineering trades. They are state institutions, in which practical
mechanical work In the shops is supplemented by theoretical
instruction The first of these schools was founded in 1803. The
course lasts three years, and the number of students in each school
must not exceed three hundred The students spend fiom six to
seven hours a day in the workshop, and are trained as fitters,
founders, smiths, and pattern-makers. As in all such schools,
saleable goods are produced, but, as production is subordinated to
instruction, the school does not bind itself to deliver work at a
given date, and therefore does not compete with any manufacturing
establishment. The students on leaving these schools are com*
petent at once to undertake the duties of foremen, managers, or
draughtsmen. At Komotau, Steyr, Klagenfurt, Ferlach, and many
other places schools have been established on somewhat similar
principles. In Germany there are special schools for the training
of foremen in the building trade, which are chiefly frequented in
the winter, and numerous schools are found in all parts of th«
Continent for the training of weavers. At Winterthur in Switzer-
land a school has been established the thain purpose of which is
the training of foremen. In Italy there are numerous technical
institutes, the object of which is to traiu young men for inter-
mediate posts in industrial works. In the United States the
manual training schools, the number of which is rapidly increasing,
have somewhat similar objects. In London, the Finsbury technical
college of the City and Guilds of London Institute has a day de-
partment, the main purpose of which is the training of youths as
foremen, works managers, &c. , but in this school, as well as in
those last mentioned, the character of the instrucripn deviates
considerably from that given in French schools, and aims rather at
preparing youths to learn, than at teaching them, their trade.
(c) A third method adopted for the training of forenicn is by en
couraging selected childreu of the ordinary elementary schools to
continue their education in schools of a higher grade of a technical
character. It is thought that, by developing to a higher degree
the intelligence and skill of those children who show aptitude for
scientific and practical work, they will be able, when they enter
the shop, to learn their trade more quickly and more thoroughly,
and to acquire that general knowledge of their work, and to exnibit
those special aptitudes, which may qualify them for the position
of foreman or manager. The education given in these schools,
although having direct reference to the future career of the pupil,
is disciplinary in character, and consists of the subjects of primary
instruction further pursued, — of drawing, modelling science,
mathematics, and manual exercises The curriculum is varied to
some extent according to local requirements, the technology of the
staple industries forming in many cases part cf the instruction
Such schools, under varied forms, have been established in most
Continental countrie.s, some of the best examples of them being
found in Paris, Lyous, Kheims, Rouen, and in other towns of
France. The want of similar schools in Britain has been frequently
pointed out. One of the oldest of these schools is the Ecole
Martiniereat Lyons. The school was founded in 1820 b^ a bequest
from Major-Gcneral Martin, who had fought against the English
under Tippoo Sahib. In' this school, in which the education is
gratuitous, as in nearly all the higher elementary schools of Fiance.,
instruction is given in drawing, modelling, chemistry, mechanics,
and physics, in the working of wood and iron, and in Geiman"and
English in aJdirion to the subjects of an ordinary school education.
Surveying is also taught to some of the pupils, and the instructioij
generally is of a very practical character The students visit fac-
tories under the guidance of the masters, and on their return they
write out full descriptions of their visits The school hours are from
seven till eleven in the morning and fi-om one till seven in the
aftcinoon. The boys from this school rapidly obtain places in the
commercial and industrial houses of Lyvms, and many of them,
after a time, succeed in obtaining high position.^. A very similsi
school, OD more modern lines, has been established at KheimS| and
T E E — T E G
is accommodated in a bnilding especially adaptad..fo the purpose.
la this school instruction is directed towards the staple indnstries
of the district, naniply, weaving, dyeing, and engineering. There
are many other similar schools in France, the object of wbich is to
give the children of artisans and small shopkeepers a higher practi-
cal education in order to fit them to occupy the posts of foremen,
overseers, and superior clerks in manufacturing and commercial
firms. A largo number of poor children sliowing talent are
selected from the primary schools and receive scholarships ; and
the objection sometimes urged agninst the establishment of higher
elementary schools,— that the better classes only are able to
benefit by them— is thus obviated. In Germany the real-schools
in which Latin is not taught, known as Ohndalein KealschtUm,
have very neariy the same objects ns the higher elenjentarv schools
of France. The instruction in these German schools is notr yet so
practical as in the schools of France. Drawing is always well
taught, and the scbools generallv contain good chemical labora-
tones, as well as collections of physical apparatus and mnseums.
From the children of these schools the ranks of foremen are largely
recruited. They receive no special trade instruction, but the
general training is so arranged as to qualify them for higher posts
m industrial works. The cost of this higher education seldom
exceeds £3 per annum. In Bavaria it is two shillings a month.
In most of these schools, as well as in the chief intermediate com-
mercial schools, the exit certificate exempts a lad from two of the
three years' compulsory military service, and this regulation, to
■which nothing corresponds in England, is an incentive to parents
to allow their children to receive higher instruction, which operates
very forcibly m largely increasing the njmber of well-educated
youths in Germany. In these opportunities for higher cdncation
Englaud u still very deficient, and the complaint is generally heard
of the difficulties of obtaining competeut foremen.
3. ifaslcrs.—The best special schools fcr the tr.-iining of future
masters, managers, engineers, manufacturers, and industrial chem-
ists are in Germany, and are known as technical high schools or
polytechnic schools. Schools of a similar character are found in
other countries, and in England the facilities for higher technical
education have within the last few years greatly improved.
:_ In Germany the polytechnic or iechnixhe HixJischule is an
institution of university type in which the education has special
reference to industrial purposes. In many respects the teaching
coincides with that given in the universities. The chief distinction
consists in the arrangement of courses of instruction in the several
departments, in the admission of students having a non-classical
preliminary training, and in the absence of certain faculties found
m the university and the addition of others. It is not correct
to say that the polytechnic is a professional school as distin-
guished from the university ; for the faculties of law, medicine
and theology give to the university as distinctly a profcssionai
character as the faculty of engineering gives to the polytechnic.
^o^ can it be said that the scientific studies at the universities are
less practical than at the polytechnic. For, whilst workshopa for
instruction m the nse of tools aro found in very few of the
polytechnic schools, the laboratories, for the practicar study of
cnemistry and physics, are perhaps better fitted and under more
eminent professoiB at some of the Gern.an universities than at the
polytechnic schools.-. At the same time, engineers of every deicrip-
tion, arehitecfe, and bnilders, besides a great number of raanufac-
turing chemists, find in the polytechnic the scientific and technical
framing which tha lawjer or physician, . and in many cases the
industnal chetnist, seeks in the university.
_ In some of the large cities— in Berlin, Vienna, and Munich for
insunce-the university and polytechnic coexist ; and in certain
cases, in which a very special training is required to fit a youth
for his career the German student, after spending three or four
years at a Polytechnic school, passes on to another institution
such as a dy<:ing school, in which his studies are further special
ized with a view to his future work. '
Taking the technical high school of Munich as a type of other
simaar institutions, we find the cost of the building and of the
TanouscoUeotions it contains to have amounted to nearly £200 000
and the annual cost of maintenance to be about £20 MO 'The
institution consists of six schools :-(l) the general: (2) the civil
engineering; (3) the building; (4) the mechanical engineering; (5)
the industrial chemical ; and (6) the agricultural. A departrnent
for electncal technolo^ is now being built. In other institutions
there are architectural, pharmaceutical, and mining schools The
programme of the Munich school gives a list of about 180 different
cOTrses of instruction distributed over the several departments . A
"^^ tK^^^°'' *' engaged to lecture on that particular subject
with which he is specially conversant, and the number of such rio.
lessors attached to a polytechnic school is very large. In the
enguieenng department there are six or seven distinct courses of
iectnres under the direction of thirteen professors. The largest and
^K!i,rTB ^v°°^'^'l^ °^ *•" "'«"' institutions is the polytechnic
S\^nr?n r ?■' '''"^^'^ completed in 1884 at a cost of about
*4SQ.000. In Iranc* tie inafctutions in which the highest teohtii.
109
cal instruction is given are concentrated in the capital. There artf
a large number of provincial colleges where the education is some-
wh.it more practical, but where the mathematical and scientific
teaching is not cirried to so high a point (the icole Centrale at'
Lyons, the Ecole des Mineurs at St Etienne, and the Institot duj
Nord at Lille, &c.). The &ole Centralo of Paris,' in whichthol
n ajority of French engineers who are not employed in the Govera-j
rient service are trained, is a rare instance of an institution for
ligher technical instruction which is selS-supporting and inde-J
pendent of Government aid.
In Switteriand the federal polytechnic of Zurich is similar tol
the polytechnic schools of Germany and Austria. Italy has three'
superior technical institutes,— one at Milan, one at Turin, and one
at ivaples, in which technical education is given on the same lines
as in German polytechnic schools. Holland has an e.Nccllent
institution at Delft, which was opened in 1864 ; and in Russia th&
imperial technical school at Moscow is a high-class engineering
school, in whi:h the theoietical studies are supplemented, to a
greater ;xtent than in the German s. liools, by workshop practice.
In some of the German schoois the fees charged vary according
to the number of lectures and to the number of hours of practical
work which the student takes per week. Thus at Jliini.h the
entrance fee for each student is 10s., and the lecture fee is 2s. Ud.
for each hour's lecture per week, including the use of materials. At
Zurich She cost of a student in. a chemical department, including
laboratorj' practice, does not exceed £12 per annum, and in otlier
departments it does not exceed £4 per annum. At Delft the
student pays about £16 per annum for a complete course.
In England there is a growing tendency to associate technical
With university education. This is mainly owing to the fact that
the colleges which have recently been csUblished to give univer-
sity eduation are poorly endowed, and have found it necessary to
attract students by meeting the increasing demand for technical
instruction. Mostof the provincial colleges may indeed be regarded
as technical schools with a literary side. In order that they may
provide university education in addition to sound technical in-
stniction. It is necessary that they should be placed on a sound
and satufactory footing by means of state endowment. Of tha
more recently erected English colleges, the Owens College at Man-
chester 13 the most important, combining the faculties of a Germaii
university vnth those of a polytechnic school ' The Yorkshire
College, Leeds, possesses a special school for the- teaching of weav-
ing and dyeing. Other somewhat similar institutions are found
in Birmingham, Newcastle, Sheffield, Nottingham, Dundee, Caidifff
and elsewhere. The university of Edinburgh has a good school of
chemistry, physics, and engineering, and the university of Glasgow
has been long distinguished for the excellence of its physical
laboratories. In University College and King's College, London
tho metropolis possesses two institutions each of which may be
likened to a university and a polytechnic combined. In the uni-
Tereity of Cambndge there are mechanical workshops in connexion
Witt the chair of en^ncering. The Royal School of Mines and the
normal schools of science and art in South Kensington aro the only
technical institutions in Eneland supported by state aid. The
central institution in London has more in common with the German
pol/technic school than any other institution in Britain. This
school 13 designed for the technical teaching of engineers, architects,
r,\n n/S' J ' ^^^ industrial chemists. It wa.^ built at a cost of
£100/100, and is matntamed by an annual grant from the City
and Guilds of London Institute of '£10,000, in addition to the
students fees.
Such is a -brief ovttline of the means provided for the technical
education of masters in different parts of^ Europe. It will be seen
from the_ foregoing statement that efforts are now being made to
bring Britain more nearly on a level with other countries in the
proviswn of those kinds of instruction which are best aci.-ii ted to
the diflerent classes of producers. But as yet only a beginning has
been made, and m England technical students can be counted by
hundreds, whilst those of Germany are numbered by thousands
Eor further information the reader is referred to the itcport of
the royal commissioners on tschnical instruction, published in
1884. (p jj, J
TEETH. See Mammalia,' vol." xv. p. 349; Digestive
Organs, vol. vii. p. 232; Ivory; and Dentistry.
TEGEA, one of the chief cities of Arcadia,- of which its
territory occupied the sonth-eastem corner, being bounded '
on the S. by Laconia, on the E. by Cynnria and Argolis,
on the N. by the territory of Mantinea, and on the VV. by
Msenalia Its. legendary founder wa3 Tegeates, soir of
Lycaon. Like many other cities of ancient Greece, Teges
■was' formed by the union of a population wbich had
previously lived ■ dispersed in villages. The people wer«
divided into four tribes,— the Clareotis, Hippothceti-s'
Apolloniatis, wid Athaneatis. Tcea offered a stubborn
110
T E G — T E G
resistance to the encroachments of Lacedasmon, and on
more than one occasion defeited its ambitious neighbour.
About 560 B.C., however, the Lacedfemonians found the
bones of Orestes in Tegea and conveyed them to Sparta ;
and henceforward Spartan valour, backed by this powerful
fetich, proved too much for the merely carnal weapons of
.Tegea. At Platsea (479 b.c.) 3000 Tegeans fought the
good fight of freedom, and were the first to enter the
breach which the Athenians had made in the Persian
redoubt Between the Persian and Peloponnesian Wars
hostilities again broke out between Tegea and Sparta, in
the course of which Tegea was twice defeated. However,
in the Peloponnesian War (431-404), and afterwards in
the Corinthiaa War (395-387), Tegea sided with Sparta.
But after the battle of Leuctra (371), when the star of
Sparta began to decline, Tegea concluded an alliance with
the victorious Thebans, and fought on their side against
Sparta at the great battle of Afantinea (362). - In the
■Macedonian period Tegea joined the jEtolian League, but
Cleomenes, king of Sparta, having won it over to his side,
the city was besieged and taken by Antigonus Doson, king
of Macedonia, the ally of the Achsan League (222). In
218 the city was retaken, except the acropolis, by the
Lacedaemonians under Lycurgus. After the defeat of
Machanidas, tyrant of Sparta, by Philopoemen in 207, Tegea
passed into the hands of the Achaean League. In the time
of Strabo it was the only town of any importance in Arcadia.
In the 2d century it was visited by Pausanias, who has left
a fairly full description of it (viii. 45-53).
XDf its buildings much the most famous was the great temple of
Athene Alea, which had often afforded sanctuary to fugitives from
Sparta. The old temple was burned down in 394 B.C., ond
Pausanius speaks of the newer temple as by far the finest and
largest in tn6 Peloponnesus {that of Zeus at Olympia, however,
occupied nearly double the area). Thq architect was Scopas ; and,
as the recent German- excavations have proved, the temple was a
Doric peripteros, with six columns at each end and fourteen at
each side. Of the columns which Pausanias mentions in addition
to the Doric, the Corinthian may have stood in the pronaos and
posticum, the Ionic in "the interior of the temple" (for ^kt6^ we
should prob.%b]y read 4vt6s in Pausanius, viii. 45, 5). The ancient
image of Athene Alea was carried off by Augustus, and placed at
the entrance to his new forum at Rome. The statues of iEscu-
lapius and Health, which in Pausanias's time stood on the two
eidcs of the image of the goddess at Tegea, were by Scopas. On
the front pediment of the temple was sculptured the hunt of the
Calydonian boar, on the back pediment the combat between
Telephus and Achilles. Some fragments of these pedimental
sculptures (comprising the head of the boar and two human heads,
onB helmeted) have been discovered ; and, as they are the only
ejdsting sculptures which can be referred with some certainty to
the hand of Scopas himself, they are of the highest importance for
the history of art. The site of the temple, at the modern village
of Piali, was partially excavated under the auspices of the German
archaeological institute in 1879 and 1882. It appears that the
foundations of the temple measured 49-90 metres (uearly 164 feet)
by 21-30 (70 feet). As Tegea-stood on a plain surrounded by
mountains and liable to inundations, its site has been covered by
an alluvial soil which has been favourable to the preservation of the
ruins, and a thorough excavation might yield important results.
On the excavations, see Atittheilungm des dcittschen archdolotfischen Ifixtiltites
in Alhrn, 1879, p. 131 jj., 168 sj.: ibid., 1880. p. 52 sf.; ibid., 1883, p. 274 s?.
On tlie artiBtic value of the sculptures, see t-6id.,1881, p. 393 59.: Jour Nell. Stud..
188C, p. 110 sq.
TEGNfiR, ESAiAS (1782-1846), the most celebrated
of Swedish writers, was born November 13, 1782, at
Kyrkerud in Wermland. His father was a pastor, and his
grandparents on both sides were peasants. His father,
whose name had been Esaias Luoasson, took the surname
of Tegnerus — altered by his fifth son, the poet, to Tegn^r
— from the hamlet of Tegnaby in Smilland, where he was
born. In 1799 Tegnir, hitherto educated in the country,
entered the university of Lund, where he graduated in
philosophy in 1802, and continued as tutor until 1810,
when he was elected Greek lecturer. In 1812 he was
named professor, and continued to work as a lecturer in
liUod until 1824, when he was made bishop of Wexio. At
Weiio he remained Until his defltb, twenty-two years kter. "
Tegn^r's early poems have little merit. He was com-
paratively slow in development. His first great success
was a dithyrambic war-song for the army of 1B08, which
stirred every Swe.dish heart. In 1811 his patriotic poem
Svea won the great prize pf the Swedish Academy, and
made him famous. In ,the same year was founded in
Stockholm the Gothic League (Gotiska forbundet), a sort
of club of young and patriotic men of letters, of whom
Tegn^r quickly became the chief. The club published a
magazine, entitled Iduna, in which it printed a great deal
of excellent poetry, and ventilated its views, particularly
as regards the study of old Icelandic literature and history.
Tegn^r, Geijer, AfzeliuS, «nd . Nicander became the most
famous members of the Gothic League. Of the very
numerous poems written by Tegn^r in the little room at
Lund which is now shown to visitors as the Tegn^r
museum, the majority are short, and even occasional lyrics.
His celebrated Song to the Sun dates from 1817. He
completed three poems of a more ambitious character, on
which his fame chiefly rests. Of these, two, the romance
of Axel and the delicately-chiselled idyl of Nattvards-
bamen ("The First Communion," 1820), translated by
Longfellow, take a secondary place in -comparison with
Tegner's masterpiece, of world-wide fame. In 1820 he
published in Iduna certain fragments of an epic or cycle
of epical pieces, on which he was then working, Frithiofs-
saga or the Story of Frithiof. In 1822 he published
five more cantos, and in 1825 the entire poem. Before
it was completed it was famous throughout Europe ; the
aged Goethe took up his pen to commend to his country-
men this "alte, kraftige, gigantisch-barbarische DichtarV'
and desired Amalie von Imhoft to translate it into
German. This romantic paraphrase of an ancient saga
was composed in twenty-four cantos, all differing in verse
form, modelled somewhat, it is only fair to say, on an
earlier Danish masterpiece, the Helge of Oehlenschlager.
Frilkiofssaga is the best known of all Swedish produc-
tions ; it is said to have been translated nineteen times
into English, eighteen times into German, and once at
least into every European language. It is far from satisfy-
ing the demands of more recent antiquarian researcl], but
it still is allowed to give the freshest existing, impression,
in imaginative form, of life in early Scandinavia. In later
years TegnSr began, but left unfinished, two important
epical poems, Gtrda and Kronhruden. The period of the
publication of Frithiofssaga (1825) was the critical epoch
of his career. It made him one of the most famous poets
of Europe ; it transferred him from his study in Lund to
the bishop's palace in Wexio ; it marked the first break-
down of his health, which had hitherto been excellent ;
and it witnessed a singular moral crisis in the inner
history of the poet, about which much has been written,
but of -which little is known. Tegn^r was at this time
passionately in love witli a certain beautiful Euphrosyne
Palm, the wife of a town councillor in Lund, and this
unfortunate passion, while it inspired much of his finest
poetry, turned the poet's blood to gall. From,, this time
forward the heartlessness of woman is one of Tegm^r's
principal themes. It is a remarkable sign of the condi-
tion of Sweden at that time that a man not in holy orders,
and so little in possession of the religious temperament as
Tegner, should be offered and should accept a bishop's
crozier. He did not hesitate in accepting it . it was a great
honour ; he was poor ; and ho was anxious to get away
from Lund. No sooner, however, had he begun to study
for his new duties than he began to regret the step he
had taken It was-nevertheless too late to go back, and
Tegner made a respectable bishop as long as his health i
lasted. But he became moody and melancholy ; as early''
T E H — T E H
lU
6s 183o lio complained of fiery heats iri his brain, dtid in
IStO, d'uitig a visit to Stockholm; he suddenly became
in; ano. Hj was sent to an asylum in Schleswig, and early
,in VAl he was cured, and able to return toAVexiij. ^ It
[was during his convalescence in Schleswig that he \vrote
Kronbniden.' He wrote no more of importance; in 1843
•ie had a stroke of apoplexy, and on the 2d di November
'1S46 he died in Wexiii. From 1819 he had been a mem-
ber oi the Swedish Acadeiny, wliere he was succeeded by'
hh biographer and best imitator Bottiger.' In prose Tegner
ivrote letters, which have been collected, and which are
considered the best of their kind in the Swedish language..
As a poet he will scarcely be preferred to Bellman or to
Runeberg by Swedish verse amateurs, but he still'..exceeds'
these and all other writers in popularity.'
See Bottiger, Teckning af TegrUrs Lcfnadi .Geofg'Brandes,
Esaias Te^rUr; Thomander, Tankar oeh Lojm. (E. 'W. G.) .,
_ TEHERAN, or, more properly, Tehkan (lat. 35° 40' N.,
long. 51° 25' E.), for about a century the recognized
'capital of Persia, has little to distinguish it, in general out-
'ward appearance, from other large cities of the country,
though in quite recent years Parisian streets or boulevards,
and even "Western architecture for single houses, in the
iridstof mudbrick palaces or plain mud hovels, have been
in'-ongruously introduced. ■ Formerly a kind of 'polygon
Boce 4 miles in circumferehce^^with its mean "shahr
Wnah " or wall, its clumsy and uneven ditch, and, its six
gates, two facing north, two south, one east, and one west,
— Teheran has now been extended to an outer ditch and
wall, thrown out on each side beyond the ancient limit.
The bazaars are good, though hardly of th^ first class ; the
euravanserais deserve honourable mention ; and the tele-
graph and arsenal are respectable' institutions. The streets
are for the most part narrow and wretchedly paved. The
" Ark," or citadel, contains the royal and better description
of public buildings, and connecting its encircling wall with
the city gates are four principal thoroughfares, of which.the
parallel avenues from the NiSsiriya and Daulat' entrances
are the more notable. Between/these two gates, in a
parallelogram extending from one to the other and in-
cluding both, is the gas-lighted Top Maidan, or "Place
des Canons," in the centre of which is a large reservoir.
European professors are to be found in the king's college,
where some 250 students, more or less,' are taught mathe-
matics, engineering, military tactics," music, telegraphy,
painting^ together with the Arabic, English, French, and
Russian , languages, --Among the not very remarkable
mosques — to some of v^VKh madrasahs, ox colleges, are
attached — 'may be specially mentioned the Masjid-i-Shah,
or king's mosque, with its handsome enamelled front, and
the Masjid-i-ilidar-i-Shah, or mosque of the king's mother.
■Water is freely supplied to the town by means of the
nnderground canals, or Aa«4<si from the near mountain
ranges. Public baths abound, • but the' Europeans use
those of the Armenian and not of the Mohammedan
community. The British legation stands in a handsome
garden of great size, in which are placed the houses of the
secretaries, which resemble English villas. ■ In the summer
season the representatives of "Western powerd and other
Europeans move out to the slope of the mountain range
north of Teheran, — the British residents to Gulhab, a
village about 7 miles from the city. A prominent feature
in the landscape at Gulhak and the nei^ghbouring summer
quarters, as at Teheran itself, is Demavend, the noblest
and most graceful of Persian mountains.',
f- The present population of Teheran may be taken at
160,000 at most. According to a late authority (Bassett,
1887) the European inhabitants are reckoned at about
100 only ; the Jews number Bome 2500 ; and there are
150 Gabrs or Parsis, a sorry remnant of. the old fire-
worshippers, Ih 1872 there were"" said to be 1000 Arme-
nians, mainly traders and artisans. In 1872 there wers
but four, legations in Teheran — those of England, France,'
Russia, and Turkey!-' Since that year representatives have
been added 'from Holland, Austria, ■ Germany;" and the
United States, ' The' French have summer quarters at
Tejrlsh and the Russians at Zargandahj at no great dis;
tance from the English Gulhak.-.
'Jtorier supposes Teheran to be tho Tahors of the Theodosian
^-ables, and recognizes it also in the account of the journey. of the
Castiliau ambassadors to Timur. Porter, too, relates that in 1637
the secretary of the Holstein ambassadoi-s mentions Teheran as
"onf of the towns which enjoy the privilege of maintaining no
soldiers." Again, in the 17th century, it was visited by Pietro della
Vails and by Sir 'Thomas Herbert, — the latter spelling it "T3'ioan."
Most writers aflirm that Teheran, though not of recent origin, can
barely be lield of repute till Agha Muhammad made it his residence
in about 1788, taking to himself the title of shah, as first of the
Kajar kings, in 1-796. ■'Yet there is evidence that in the previous
century it was a royal resort, it nothing more, in Herbert s state-
ment that " the Touuo is most beautified by a vast gaiden of tho
kings, succinct with a great towered mud-wall larger than the circuit
.of the city." Du Pre (who visited it in 1808) states that it had been
pillaged and nearly destroyed by the Afghans, — evidently at their
.asion of Persia in 1728. Since Agha Muhammad's time Teheran
has been the usual seat of the Knjar dynasty, a circumstance to be
attributed to tli!> political advantages of its geographical position.-.J
See, besides 'the authorities cilcd, Tekgvaphand Tt-avel (1S74) ; Dr Wills's land
o/the lion aud Svrt (I8S3) ; nod Mr Bassctt's Innd 0/ the Imdmi (1867).
, TEHUANTEPEC, an isthmus in' Mexico, comprising
the western extremities of the states of Vera Cruz and
Oajaca, and limited eastwards by the states of Tabasco and
Chiapas, thus lying between 16° and .18° N; lat. and 94°
and 95° W. long. Betw'ceu the Bay of Campeche on the
north or Atlantic side and that of Tehuantepec on the
south or Pacific side the distance in a bee line is only 125i
miles. Here also tho Sierra Madre falls rapidly from over
6000 feet in Chiapas to about 730 feet in the ridge skirting
the Pacific coast; and leaving the rest of this district some-
what level, with a ris'e from the Atlantic of not more than
60 feet in the mile except at the Chivela Pass, where for
8 miles the gradients are about 116 feet per mile^
- This favourable condition of the relief, combined with a relatively
healthy climate subject only to dangerous insect pests in summer,
has. naturally attracted attention to the Tehuantepec isthmus, as
ofi'ering peculiar advantages for interoceanic communication either
by a navigable canal, a railway, or a ship railway. A first conces-
sion was made in 1841 by tho Mexican Government to Don Jos4
d* Garay, who had the land surveyed with a view to a canal, but
who, after the war with the United States, surrendered his rights
to Mr P. A. Harsous of New 'York. ' The company then organized
to give effect to the Garay grant caused a fresh survey for a railway
to be made in 1851, under the direction of the late General J. G.
Barnard. But nothing came of this or of another railway jjroject
in 1857, when a third survey was executed, under the direction of
Col. 'W. H. Sidell., Then the "Tehuantepec Railway Company,",
formed in 1870 in New ITork, and reorganized in 1879, obtained
a concession frorti the Mexic.in Government to construct the
"Tehuantepec Railway"; but, after ft few miles were made, the
work was suspended, and in 1882 the Government contracted with
private individuals for the completion of the line, which was to be
190 miles long, and to run from the mouth of the Goatzacoalcos
(Coatzacoalcos) river on llie Atlantic to tho port of Salina Cruz on
the Pacific. 'The work, was carried to'Minatitlan, a distance of 25
miles, in 1884, and was to have been completed in 1885; but sines
then operations ai)pear to have been suspended for want of means.
A Tehuantepec ship railway is also projected, as it is expected that
most of the trade between the Atlantic and Pacific coasts of the
United States will be attracted to this route, which shortens the
distance between New York and Saa Francisco by 1477 miles, and
between New Orleans and the same place by 2334 miles, as com-
pared with that by the Panama railway and future canal.
Tehuantepec, the town which gives its name to the isthmus, bay,
and neig"hbouring lagoon, stands on the river Tehuantepec, 15 miles
above its mouth on the Pacific; where it develops a shallow and
somewhat exposed harbour. Of the population, estimated at
14,000, a large number are civilized and industrious Indians en-
gaged in cotton-weaving and on the salt-works. Indigo is grown
m the district, and there are productive pearl-fisheries in the bay.
Amongst the exports are cochineal and a purple dye extracted from
a ahelUsh abounding on the coast '
112
T E I — T E L.
TEIGNMOUTH, a seaport and market town of Eng-
land, in Devonshire, consisting of the parishes of East and
West Teignmouth, and situated on the English Channel,
at the mouth of the Teign and on the Great Western
Railway, 14 miles south of Exeter and 209 west^south-
west of London. It is somewhat irregularly built, partly
on a projecting peninsula and partly on the acclivities
rising behind the river. The Teign is crossed by a bridge
1671 feet in length, built of wood and iron in 182-1. St
Michael's church, in East Teignmouth, erected in 1822-23
in the E)ecnrated style, was enlarged in 1875. The other
buildings include St Scholastica's abbey (erected for Bene-
dictine nuns in 1862), the East Devon and Teignmouth
club-house, the mechanics' institute (1840), the temperance
hall ( 1 879), the sailors' home (1881 ), the baths (1883), and
the pubUc market (1883). There are two commodious
quays and a pier 600 feet in length. Fine pipe and potters'
clay (from Kingsteignton) is shipped to Staflordshire
Coal and culm are imported, and there is also a trad
with Newfoundland Fishing is extensively carried on.
The town, which is not incorporated, was formerly governed
by portreeves. It now forms an urban sanitary district
which was extended on 29th September 1881. The popu
lation of the former^area'(L238 acres) in 1871 was 6751,
and in 1881 it was 7120 ; that of the extended area (234T
acres) in 1881 was 8496. '
Tei"nraouth is of very- ancient origin. It received a grant of
a market from Henry III East Teignmouth was forineily cilkJ
Teignmouth Regis, and. West Teignmouth, Teignmouth Episcopi,—
the manor having belonged to the see of Exeter until alienated by
Bishop Vesey. -fcignmoutli was burned by French piiatcs io 1340,
and was again devastated by the Fieueh OQ 26th June 1690.
TEINDS. See Tithes.
T E L E 0 R A PH
TELEGRAPH (from t'iKi and ypi4>w) signifies an
instrument to wTile at a disUnce. The term is
speciBcaJly applied to apparatus for communicating in-
telligence to a distance in unwritten signs addressed to
the eye or ear, and has only recently had application to
those wonderful coujbinations of inanimate matter which
literally write at a distance the intelligence coraipitted to
them The chief object of the present article is to ex
plain the principles and practice of the electric telegraph,
and we shall allude to other telegraphic systems only to
illustrate the general principles of signalling.
Signalling a word expressing an idea may, according to a pre-
generaLy. ^j^anged plan of signalling, be communicated by voice, by
trumpet, calls, by gun 6re, by gesture or dumb signs, by
lamp signals, by flags, by semaphore, or by electric tele-
graph. The simplest system of word -signalling hitherto
practised is that of the nauticjal flag telegraph, in which
each hoist represents a word by a combination of four
flags- in four distinct positions (see Signals, Naval). If
n denote the number of flags, supposed all diflerent, out
of which the four to be sent up may be selected, the num^
ber of difl'erent ideas which can be expressed by a single
hoist k'n(n- !)(«- 2)(n - 3), since there are n varieties
out of which, the flag for each of the four positions may
be independently chosen. To commit to memory so ^eat
a ilumber'of combinations, which amount to 358,800 if
n = 26, would be a vain etfort , the operators on each side
must therefore havn cou; tant recourse to a dictionary, or
code, as i' i.'* called. For the sake of convenient reference
each Hag is called by the name of a letter of the alphabet,
and all that the operato-- has to bear in mind is the letter
by which, each Hag is designated. Sometimes the words
to be expressed are spelled oni by means of the flags as
in ordinary language; but, as in ruost words there are
more than four letters, as scarcely any two consecutive
words are spelled >vith four or less than tour letters, and
as more than four Hags at a time cannot be conveniortly
used, the system of alphabetic signalling frequently re-
quires the use of two hoists for a word, and scarcely ever
has the advantage of expressing two words by one hoist.
It IS therefore much more tedious than code signalling in
the nautical telegraph
In point of simplicity spoken words may be considered
as almost on a par with the nautical telegraph, since each
word is in reality spoken and heard almost as a single
utterance. Next in order comes the system of spelling
onl words letter by letter, in which— instead of, as in the
nautical telegraph, 358,800 single symbols to express the
same number of ideas — 26 distinct symbols are n.sed to
express by their combinations any nnnibej- whatever of
distinct ideas Next again to this may be ranked the-
system by which several distinct successive signals are-
used to express a letter, and letters thus communicated
by compound signals are combined into words according
to the ordinary method s>( language It is to this last
class that nearly all practical systems of electro-telegraphic
signalling belong But some of the earliest and latest pro-
posals for electric telegraphs are founded on the idea of
making a single signal represent a single letter of the
alphabet , as insUnces we may name those early forms in
which separate conductors were used for the different
letters , a method suggested by Professor W. Thomson '
in 1858 in which difl'erent strengths of current were to be
employed to indicate the letters ; and the various forms
of printing telegraph now in use
I Historical Sketch of Early Telegraphs.
Although the history of practical electric telegraphy Early
does not i'nclude a period of more than half a century, the forms-
idea of using electricity for telegraphic purposes is much
older It was suggested again and again as each new dis-
aovery in electricity and magnetism seemed to render it
more feasible. Thus the discovery of Stephen Gray apd
of Wheeler that the electrical influence of a charged Lcyden
jar may be conveyed to a distance by means of an insulated
wire gave rise to various proposals, of which peihaps the
earliest was that in an anonymous letter ^ to the ScoU
MayaniK (vol XV. p 73, 1753), in which the use of aa
many insulated conducU.rsas there are letters in the alpha-
bet was suggested Each wire was to be used for the trans-
mission of one letter only, and the message was to be senii
by charging the proper wires in succession and received by
observing the movements of small pieces of paper luarked
with the'^letters of the alphabet and placed under the ends
of the wires A very interesting modification was also
proposed in the same letter, viz., to attach to the end of
each wire a small light ball which when charged would be
attracted U.wards an adjacent bell and strike it Soma
twf^nty years later Le Sage proposed a similar method in
which each conductor was to be attached to a pith ballj
electroscone An important advance on this was proposed
in 1797 b'v Lomond,^ who used only one line of wire and
an alphabet of motions. Besides these we have in the same
period the spark telegraph of Reiser, of Don SiKa. and oF
Cavallo the pith bail telegraph of Ronalds, and_sevei;a>
• See bis i!jlhrmatu.<d and rhysuul /'ape's, vol ii p 105
' From correspondence found among Sir David Brewster- papers
after his deulh it s«,ns highly probable that the wnter of this lelUr,^
which was si;; 1 ''C M.", "as Charle^ Morrison, a surgooD and k
native of Uiero.nk. but at that lirne re»ideut in Beljfrew
' See Arlluir Vooiig. TravcU, in France, p 3
TELEGRAPH
others. Next came the discovery of Galrani and of Volta,
and as a consequence a fresh set of proposals, in which
voltaic electricity w-as to be used. The discovery by
Nicholson and Carlisle of the decomposition of water and
the subsequent researches of Davy on the decomposition of
the solutions of salts by the voltaic current were turned to
•tcount in the water voltameter telegraph of Somciering
and the modihcation of it proposed by Schweigger, and in
a similar method proposed by Cose, in which a solution of
salts was substituted for water Then came the discovery
by Romagn^i and by Oersted of the action of the galvanic
current on a magnet, Th« application of this to tele-
graphic purposes was suggested by Laplace and taken up
by Ampere, and afterwards by Triboaillet and by Schilling,
whose work forms the foundation of much of modern tele-
graphy. Faraday's discovery of the induced current pro-
duced by passing a magnet through a helix of wire forming
part of a closed circuit was laid hold of in the telegraph of
Gauss aod Weber, and this application was at the request
of Gauss taken up by Steinheil, who brought it to consider-
able perfection. Steinheil communicated to the Gbttingen
Academy of Sciences in September 1833 an account of his
telegraph, which had been constructed about the middle
«f the preceding year. The currents were produced by a
magneto-electric machine resembling that of Clarke. The
receiving apparatus consisted of a multiplier, in the centre
of which were pivoted one or two magnetic needles, which
either indicated the message by the movement of an index
or by striking two bells of different tone or (recorded it by
making ink dots on a ribbon of paper. Among other
workers about this time we may mention Masson, BrSguet,
Davy, Deval, Billon, Soudalot, and Vorsselman who pro-
posed to use the physiological effects of electricity in work-
ing an electric telegraph.*
Steinheil appears to have been anticipated in the matter
of a recording telegraph by Morse of America, who in 1835
constructed a rude working model of an instrument ; this
within a few years was so perfected that with some modi-
fication in detail it has been largely used ever since (see
below). In 1836 Cooke, to whom the idea appears to have
been suggested by Schilling's method, invented a telegraph
in which an alphabet was worked out by the single and
combined movement of three needles. Subsequently, in
conjunction with Wheatstone, he introduced another form,
in which five vertical index needles, each worked by a separ-
ate multiplier, were made to point out the letters on a dial.
Two needles were acted upon at the same time, and the
letter at the point of intersection of the direction of the
indexes was read This telegraph required six wires, and
was shortly afterwards displaced by the single-needle system,
•till to a large extent used on railway and other less im-
portant circuits. The single-needle instrument is a vertical
needle galvanostope worked by a battery and reversing key,
the motions to right and left of one end of the index corre-
sponding to the dashes and dots of the Morse alphabet.
To increase the speed of wc.king, two single-neMle instru-
ments were sometimes used (double-needle telegraph). This
system required two lines of wire, and, along with all
multiple-wire systems, soon passed out of use. Similar
instruments to the single and double needle ones of Cooke
and ^Vheatstone were about the same time invented bv the
Rev. H. Ilighton and his breather Edward Highton," and
were used for a considerable time on some of the railway
lines in England. Another series of instruments, intro-
duced by Cooke and WheatstoAe in 1840, and generally
known as " Wheatstone's step-by-step letter-showing " or
* Tbe reader interested in the early history of the el^tric telegraph
may consult Edward Highton, Tht Eltdric Td^aph, London, 1852;
Moigno, TraUi de TeUgraphxt tUetrique, Paris, 1849; and Sabine,
Bittory of the EUeLnc Td^aph, London, 1869."
23—7
113)
"ABC instruments," were worked out with great Ingenuity
of detail by Wheatstone in Great Britain and by Br^guet
and others in France. They are still largely used for pri-
vate wires, but are being rapidly displaced by the telephone.'
Wheatstone also described and to some extent worked out
ap interesting modification of his step-by-step instrument,
the object of which was to produce a letter-printing tele-
graph. But it never came into use ; some years later,
however, an instrument embodying the same principle,'
although differing greatly in mechanical detail, was brought
into use by Royal E. House of Vermont, U.S.. and was
very successfully worked on some of the American telegraph
lines till 1860, after which it was gradually displaced by
the Phelps combination telegraph. The House instrument
is not now in use, but various modifications of it are still
employed for private lines and for stock telegraph?, such
as Calahan's and the universal stock telegraphs, Phelps'*
stock printer, Gray's automatic printer for private lints,
Siemens's and Phelps's automatic type printers, ic. (se«
infra, pp. 120-121)
n. General Description of Electeic Telegbaphs
FOR Lasd and Sea.
The first requisite for electro-telegraphic communica- Essenijai
tion between two localities is an insulated conductor ex- appara
tending from one to the other. This, with proper apparatus ""•
for originating electric currents at one end and for dis-;
covering the effects produced by them at the other end, '
constitutes an electric telegraph. Faraday's term " elec-
trode," bterally a way for electricity to travel along, might
be well appUed to designate the insulated conductor along
which the electric messenger is despatched. It is, how-;
ever, more commonly and familiarly called "the wire" or
"the line." J
The apparatus for generating the electric action at one
end is commonly called the transmitting apparatus or in-
strumertt, or the sending apparatus or instrument, or some-
times simply the transmitter or sender. The apparatus
used at the other end of the line to render the effects of
this action perceptible to any of the senses — eye, ear, or
taste, aU of which have been used in actual telegraphic
signalling — is called the receiving apparatus or instrument.
In the aerial or overground system of land telegraphs Over-
the main line consists generaUy of a "galvanized" iron g«»"iJ
wire from one-sixth to a quarter of an inch in diameter, ^^
stretched through the air from pole to pole, at a sufficient
height above the ground for security. The supports or in-
sulators, as they are called, by which it is attached to the
poles are of very different form and arrangement in different
telegraphs, but consist essentially of a stem of glass, por-
celain, coarse earthenware, or other non-conducting sub
stance, protected by an overhanging screen or roof. On«
end of the stem is firmly attached to the pole, and th»
i0ther bears the wire. The best idea of a single telegraphi*
insulator may be got from a common umbrella, with it»
stem of insulatmg substance attached upright to the top
of a pole and bearing the wire supported in a notch on the
top outside. The umbrella may be either of the same
substance as the stem — all glass or all glazed earthenware,
for instance — or of a stronger material, such as iron, with
an insulating stem fitted to it to support it below. Very
good insulators may be made of continuous glass; but
well glazed porcelain is more generally used," or rather
earthenware, which is cheaper, less brittle, and lees hygro-
scopic, and insulates weU as lopg as the glazing is sufficient
to prevent the poroUs substance withm" from absorbing
moisture. '
One of tne.best forms— Varley'a double cup insulator
I For the different forms, see Prescotfs EkctTidCy and tht Siectne
Telegraph, pp. 562-602.
xxni - IS
•114
TELEGRAPH
Uniler-
ground
lines
Sut>»
morhte
csbW
— is showTi in fig. 1. It consists ol two distinct cups (c,
C), which are moulded and fired separately, and afterwards
cemented together. The double cup gives
great security against loss of insulation
due to cracks extending through the in-
sulator, and also gives a high surface in-
sulation. An iron bolt (4) cemented into
the centre of the inner cup is used for
fi.xing the insulator to the polo or bracket.
In the underground systeiii the main
line generally consists of a copper wiia,
or a thin strand of copper wires, covered
with a continuous coating df gutta jjercha,
india-rubber, or some equivalent insulat-
ing substance, served with tarred tapo
and enclosed in earthenware, iron, or lead
pipes laid below the surface of the ground.
This system is largely used for street and
tunnel work, and to a considerable extent,
especially in Germany, for ordinary lines, rio. i. — variey'a
Each tube generally contains a number of t^^l onc-fpuitS^fuii
wires, which are either laid up into a cable ^^■
and covered with a serving of tarred tape or hemp before
J)eing drawn into the tube, or — as is more commonly the
case in the United Kingdom — simply laid together in a
parallel group and tied at intervals with binders, which
are removed as the vrijres are drawn into the tube. On
some long underground line's in Germany the insulated
wires are laid up into a cable, served with jute or hemp;
and sheathed with a continuous (Joveriug of iron wires,
precisely similar to the, stibmarin'e cables described below.
The cable is laid in a deep trench ahd coated with bitumen.
This 'form of cable is easily 'laid, land if properly manu-
factured is likely to be very durable.
Submwrine Cables.'— A submarine cable (figs. 2-4), as
usually manu-
factured at
present, con-
sists of a core
a in the centre
of which is a
strand of cop-
per wires vary-
ing in weight
for different
cables between
70 and 400 lb
to the mile.
The -stranded
form 'was sug-
gested by Prof.
W. Thomson
at a meeting
of the Philo-
sophical So-
ciety of Glas-
gow in 1854,
because ■ its
greater flexi-
bility renders
it less likely
to damage the
insulating en- . .^ , ^ ,,
1 J ■ Fios. 2-4.— Sections of Ihrco tyjios of subraanno cables,
vclope durmg f„n size.- I'lg. 2.— Type or sliore end. Kig. 3.— Inter-
the manipula- medjat^pe. Fig. 4.-Dccp sea type.
tion of the cable. T* central conductor is covered vrith
several continuous coatings of gutta percha, the total
weight of which also varies betwepn 70 and 400 ft) to
the mile. With 'a light core the weight of the gutta
i)crcha generally exceeds that of the copper, while in some
Fi^. 8.
heavy cores the copper is heavier. The different coatmgs
of gutta percha and of the conductor are usually separated
by a thin coating of Chatterton's compound (a mixture of
gutta percha, resin, and Stockholm tar), in order to make
them adhere firmly together. This practice has recently
been departed from by Messrs Siemens' Brothers, who have
succeeded by an improved process of manufacture in getting
perfect adhesion \rithout the use of the compound. The
core is served vs-ith a thick coating of wet jute, yarn, -or
hemp (h), forming a soft.bedjor theisheath, which consists
of soft iron, or of homogeneous iron, \vire3 of the best
quality. The sheathing wires are usually covered with
one or two servings of tarred canv^a tape lt),.or of tarred
hemp, laid on alternately with coatings of a mixture of
asphaltum and tar. The wei^t of tie irop ^heath varies
greatly according to the depth of the water, the nature of
the sea bottom, the prevalence of currents, atid so pn.
Fig. 2 shows! the intermediate type ^gain' sheathed With
a heavy armour to resist, wear in the- shallow water near
shore. In many caseis a still heavier type is used for the
first mile ortwo from' shore, and several intermediate types
are often introduced, tapering gradually to the thin deep-
water type. Captain S. Trot and Mr F. A. Hamilton have
proposed! to abandon the iron sheath and substitute a
strong double serving of hefaip, laid on in such a way as to
prevent twisting when the cable is under "tension. This
suggestion, which is a reyival with some modifications of
an old idea, is, however, still in the experimental stage.
We will now describe very briefly a few of the most
important processes in the manufacture and submergence
of submarine cables.
In manufacturing a cable (fig. 5) the copper strand is passed Their
through a vessel A containlug-melted Chatterton's compound, then manu-
througli the cylinder C, in which a quantity of gutta percha, pun- factorti
fied by repeated wash- l. ing in hot water, by mastica-
tion, and by filtering \] through wire-gauzo filters, is kept
1- ^ k_
warm by a steam-
through, a coating of
jacket. As the wire is pulled
"^5 gutta percha, the thickness oi
^^^^ii^:(,.,^tmmmi!!m^
Fij.S.
which is regulated by thf die D, is pressed out of the cyliader by
appljang the requisite pressure to the piston P. The newly coated
wire is passed through a long trough T, containing cold iwater, "
until it i& sufficiently cold to allow it to be^ safely wound on a bob-'
bin B'. This operation completed, the »ixe is wound from the
bobbin B' on to another, and at the same time carefully examined
for air-holes or other flaws, all of which are eliminated. The
coated wire ii treated in the same way as tho copper strand, —
the die D, or another of the same size, being placed at the back
of the cylinder and a larger one substituted at the front. A second
costing is then laid on, and after it passes through a similar pro-
cess of examination a third coating is applied, and^so on until
thel requisite number is completed. The finislicd dore, cliaiiges
rapidly in its electric qualities at first, and is generally kept for a
stated inteiTal of time before being subjected to the specified tests.
It is then placed in n tank of water and kept at a certain fixed
temperature, usually 75° Fahr., ivntil it assumes approximately a
constant electrical state. Its conductor and dielectric resistance
and its electrostatic capacity are then measured. These tests are
generally repeated at another temperature, say 50° Fahr.> for tlw
purpose of obtaining at the same time greater certainty of the
soundness of the coie and the rate of variation of the conductor
and dielectric resistances with temperature. Should these tests
prove satisfactory tho core is served with jute y.irn, coiled in uHter-
tight tanks, and surrounded witli salt water. The insulation is
again tested, and if no fault is discovered the served core is passed
through the sheathing machine, and the iron sheath and the outer
covering are laid on. As the cable is sheathed it is stored in large
water-tigiit tanks and kept at a nearly uniform temperature by .
means of water.
Tho cable is no* transferred to a cable ship, provided with w.itor- Submcrt |
tight tanks similar to those used in the factoiy for storing it. The niou.
tanks arc nearly, cyUndric.il in form and have a tnmcatcd cone
'Jourii. Soc. Tdtijr. Eng., voL xii. p. 495.
TELEGHAPH
*JH,ouU.daoftl>.UnkandcoUedtowaniBthecentre. The Xont [ CA'*^?"u iTimpi'r^:!? t^ o^iZT.TZl^lttZ:'
obyiated by the increasing slai k
_ paid out, except in so far as ths
'' tui^putuy amount of sliding which the-
strength of the cable is able to
^ . , \L/ \U \.\J \^ "-CT^ r^ U produce at the poinU of contact
Fio. e—Diagnun of cablo tank and parinc ont aonaistn, nr .I-.1. — Z T"^ "^ , ground may be therebj
"'"P'^SoMapparatiia or sibmartne cable. increaaed. The speed of the shit
must therefore be so regulated
coUs are prevented from adhering by a coat-
ing of whitewash, and the end of each
nautical mile is carefully marked for future
reference. After the cable has been again
found tn K» i„ „ f ™t'Jef.'«a to the proper electrical teats and
Zv .V V "" P"/"' "°<iit«>n. the atip^^ taken to the olaca
where the shore end is to be Unded. A sufficient "ength of Sbll
on a rait or lafts, or on the deck of a steam-launch in orH^r fn
^^. ^ the cable- house and the coudoctor connected with thf
S "hSrnn?'"^,f ""^^ '^^ ^^^'^^ '^^ continue aatt
li^Tonf tti'^ . f °° V''^ P^P^ "^""^ ^'i ««^°>^ s'o'^'y ahead,
^ying out the cable oyer her stem. The cable must not be orer^
^r ^"^ to^irr °' ^bmeraion. and must be paid out atX
proper rate to give the requisite alack. This involves the intro-
aactioo of machinery for measuring and contro^C the g~S ^
vrhich it leaves the shin and for measuring the p2 on thlTblt
m essential ^ of tfis anparalua are aho^ in 6^6 m kwer
end J of the cable in the Uni T is taken to the tesUSg room so that
continuous tests for electrical condition can l«Wle. 'nle upwr
quad^iSSl'zT ' ^"^f '^-^-^^ to » set of wheeU or ffi
quaurants 1, 2, 3,^. then to the paying, out drum P from it t^
'X^mr r-L^- the^i^feirFi ¥ '^''- -" -H^
2. 4. 6 . c^ be „i3e4 or 7owetV»''af •;;-^eTh:rbfeti''oJ
with bi^ket "•^^.'"r^^" *•"='"• "'^o '• 3^. • a^^fl^rh^l'
vJn the same
that t>ifl on«]a «f - • - ™'^*^ therefore be so regulated
a^eUtrpf ^aL^eH^r^Suderor^"'" '''^ inclination W.
ofilmers^i^t^^Twee'i^^^^^^^^
, . -- —— - 1"" ~ ^"<= uaoiB lo maKe it gnp the
,?,» ■' P^^^aevei^I times to prevent s^mg
shaft with P ,3 fixed a brafce-wLel fumislied ii.h a pow'erfol
nHth o ««-. -f 1 ,. snait 01 V can be readily put in pear
^^.^^ft^.-::.:^\^i7^^_ "Kn^^'^dttS
h^?„ ^ t C^^ engines; it is more accurately obtained
ofsla^ Theamol^.ffl u ""^ °^ ^t^^ °°* K*'™ t''^ ^■"onnt
anH fJt; ^ ^"oint of slack vanes in different cases between three
cable at the surlc'e' rand^Al^Btn^V^"; t'uv^'^ ^"^ °" *"«
^=*{'"-s-iri/("-''«>so} (aj
and w cos i= B/(» sin i ) .
};?u^T^-^"'>'' ?F^eVs"h:u"ldTe^^et?triow'^ "ThH'T-
'ur"fS'^f^^e^^A^ tttTm^-T'^?.^^^^^^^^
of electnc potentials," is maintained between ita two La ^"^^^ ^°*^"'-
^ most naturally, and is in po.nt\f frcTgetX e—^J
^T^^^:^il7l^T^t::-^^ -• endstp-dU^
^o\o^:^lfSlX:^;:^''\^^- ^y is the resistance Insula.
oi passing through the line and producing effect at the other enrt
W?th^ ""^"^ "" f""^ " ""-l '^forthe Sode of wo kfng adoD^
™rt of l^^'^K'^r"^"""" "'^""^ in a submarine line, rof nd ev^
mmsmm
nail of It 13 found to havs pqfnT^o/^ eC .u ,. mucn a:
familiar " cou^poLi ^^LT''S^We^,Tt at^^a^'ttm^
£ourhp^q^b^T,sCre;;£-t:T^^
rri^te;;^:::^^:^?^^^?^:^^^^^
to light many remarkable phenomena and pointing out thf
•inductive" embarrassment to be ejected in .Jorking^long sub-
marine telegraphs In letters » to Professor Stokes in November
and December of the same year, Prof. W. Thomson gave the mSh"
mabcal theory of these phenomena, with formula; and dis^ms of
Pv.T; '^""^"■"'g '>>« '^'^■n^ts of synthetical investiga^on for
every nossible case of practical operations. Some of the re^uks of
this theory are given at the end of the present article. The con
ductor of a submanne cable has a very largo electrostatic capac?^
he inaC?o°n TV^^r °^/ land telegrap^h wire in conseque^nce S
the mauctmn, a.s of a Leyden phial, which takes place Across ita
gutta percha coat, between it and its moist outer WfacT^Uch
may be regarded as perfectly connected with the earth.-tharu t„
say, at the same potential as the earth. The mathemalicalerprei^
smns for the absolute electrostatic capacity C, per unit?/ !^^-
in the two cases are as follows. j . i^ >^ ui lengio,.
cir™L?c"roiTerHn„°^'^'f°°"T!''"='"' "^IV"'^ ^ ''^that of a gubm»>.
cumscribed^boutr;,^ / T^^ mappreciaWy less than one cir- ine li«.
cumscribed about the strand which constitutes a modem submarine
• Pubhaljal in froc Hay. Soc. lor 1355.
TELEGRAPH
116
«ntoctor--D'= outer diameter of the insulating c<at; 1= specific
nS^pacitT of tl»e guttj percha or other substance consU-
tating the insulating coat. Then
^= 2 log, VjU
its capacity sensibly— _ 1
^-21og,4A/D' ,
Example 1. In a submarme cable in which D'= 1 centunrtre ;
D = 0-4 centimeti-e ; and 1 = 3-2—
I 3-2 X -4343
C =
^ = 175.
21og.D7i3'" 2 X -3979
Example 2. In a land line in which D = 0-6 centimetre and
A=600 centimHres— i -4343 1
^ = 21og.4A/D~7-204"'l6-6'
The canacitv therefore, is in this case less than one-twenty-ninth of
SS oTthelibmarine iable of example 1 for the same length
Telegraph Testing.
6^„d- ^to«A.r<f5o/J/««™««^^-AbriefconsiderationofthesU^^^^
^.'^fo, acceding to which the electr.^lquaht,e^^^^^^^^ 1-t
'^-r- sfctrn Z S!" iutde? rrtrnls'of those quaUti^ and
"""*' ouantities more definite. A complete and universally coniparable
?;sC of sundards for physical f^rr^''^? wth mass aa5
adootine arbitrarily as fundamental units those of length, mass, ana
toe and Expressing in terms of these in a properly defined manne
thTunTtsoPall the^ther quantities. The units now adopted a,
over the world for electriqal measurements take the cent m«re as
?he un it of lenrth, the gramme as the unit of mass, and the mean
Slar slnd as^he uni\of time^ There are two Bystems in use
the electrostatic and the electroruagnetic In the f»rmer the
mutual forces exerted by two bodi*, .«\<=\ '^^f [f fv^ ^ttef t^e
«lectricitv are taken as the starting-pomt, and in the 'atier ine
mutu" o;ces exerted between a current of ^l^.^tnci ty and a mapet
The units accordlnff to these two systems are definitely related , but
S^weTaHntiie present article Vith the electroma^etic system
we eivo the following brief account of it only. ^„„_,„
'Kldyne or unit force is that force wiich, acting on a CTamme
„ . .f mattef free to move, imparts to it a velocity of 1 centimetre per
"'"'"■ ZST UnU quaniity of,>mgnetism or unit magnetic poU^st^^t
Quantity of ma^tism which, when placed at a distance of 1 c^^t'^
K from a^ equal and similar quantity of magnetism or a
Sa^et c pole, repels it with unit force. UnU nmgnau field x^j.
fidfwT^icfi wOien a unit quantity of magnetism or a unit magnetic
o^le Ts Saoed in it, is acted on by unit force. UnU carrentjs a
STent which, when made to flow round a circ e of unit radius
STces a ma^etic field of 2» units' intensity at the centre of the
S or acts on a unit quantity of magnetism placed at the centre
ofthe circle with 2. units of force. bnU quantity of dccinatyjB
tRfl nuantitv conveved by the unit current m one second. U'lU
merZfZoZSliB tl diirerence of potential between the ends
ofa conductor of unit length when it is placed with its length at
right angles to the direction of force in a unit magnetic field and
fcfpt moving with a velocity of 1 centimetre P" b<=<:°"^ .f^f «
direction at right angles to its own length and *» the direction of
the magnetic force. VnU elcclronwtive force is produced in a closed
fkcu^tlx any unit of its length is held in the man i^r and moved
to the direction and with the velocity, described m he last section
Unit resistanee is the resistance which, when acted on hy unit
electromotive force, transmits unit current Uml «'P«f; f_ i,the
capacity of a body which requires ">"t quantity of electricity to
raise its potential by unity, the units above specified are f"^'^[\y
referred to as the absolute C.G.S. electromagnetic units of tTie ditfer-
ent quantities. In practice their rnagnitudes were fo""'> ">""•
venient. and certain multiples and submultiples of them have
been adopted as the practical units of measurement : thus tho
^,H is equal to 10» C.G.S, units of resisunce ; the wit is enual
. to 10' C G.S. units of electromotive force ; the ampere is equal to
10-' C G.S. units of current ; the coulomb is equal to 10" O.O.s.
units of quantity ; the farad is the capacity which is charged to a
volt by a coulomb, and is equal to lO"' C.G.S. muts of capacity ;
fte microfarad is the milUonth part of the farad, and is equal to
10-" C.G.S. units of capacity. , , , .•„„
■We are hero chiefly concerned with the muts of electromotive
Ibrco, resistance, wd capacity. No universally recognized standard
of electromotive force lias yet been estabhslicd, but the want has
been to a gi-eat extent supplied by the potentia galvanometers,
S-cstatif voltmeters, standard cells, and other i^strumenU
devised by Sir W Thomson and others. The work of Lord R.ayle.gh,
Dr. Fleming, and other experimenters on the Clark and Darnell
ttandard ceUk baa shown conclusively that an elettromotive force
:^^;^t:^si^s:r^FtS>r-9^££
B^^^^^ (*i?-tv:^.^=^»
canbereUed on.^if properly taken care of, to "^^ ''^^J^^^y
^^cnrate from vear to year. Similar specimens of the standard unit
rf capacityTr mi rofa^rad which remain very "early, constant hav«
been successfully produced. For a fuller treatment of this subject
and of the rnethoSs of determining the difi-erent units, see Elec-
'''S:v^ Ibe'te^stbglonsists mostly of comparisons of the re-
sistancTof the conductor and the insulator with sets of standard
rSnces, and of comparisons of the inductive capacity rf tho
Unror cab e with standard condensers of known capacity. When
^ is somettoes the case, the strength of the cmrent fiowing through
?^eUnror through a particuUr instrument is to be determmed it
is measured by an electrodynamometer, or by a current gava.
nometer properly constructed for indicating currents in absolute
me^ure '^In the absence of such an instrument it may be obUmed
^c^urate'lv by he use of a standard galvanometer in a known or
dSermined magnetic field, or, taking advantage of. Faraday s d^-
coveryof theele^ro.chemikl equivalents, by measurmg the amount
S^k^gh-^et^rfin^n:^«^
to do more than simply refer to these ^^^ods ^e fi^?^^^^^^^
''';^i'^z':tT^T^^^'"f^f^^^^^^^^
Let zTfig 1) be the line with its distant end connected with the meot^.t
earth,aand 6 known resistances, yr I gistan. i
X a resistance which can be varied, VYO r-Hbv
GagaWanometenKasiuglekver^__K.^ S^^ [iJ wheal
stone's
bridge
key, K, a reversing key, and B a
battery. Put the zinc pole of the
battery to the line and adjust
the resistance x until the gal-
vanometer G shows no deflexion
when K, is depressed. We then
have, assuming no electroinotive
■ Ffg. 8.
foVceilTthl linl l=ax,jb. Next put the copper pole to the hne and
epi theterindsupVseinthircaseZ=ax^i; ifthese
oU nearlv agree the true value may be taken as 2ax,aWi(x, + 3^). 1 he
effectTf anflectromotive force in'the line itaelf is nearly elimmatcd
^")Tefthettten'(fig. 9) be connected through the keys K, By dir...
and K^nd the iSmLf cUh the Une i, whiehhas its^^^^^^
end to the earth as before; shunt the galvanometer by a shunt »
untU a convenient deflexioi is obtained, ind then take as qm^k y
as possible a series of readings with zinc and copper alternately to
the line Next substitute for I a set of resistance coils and vary
the resistance untU the same series of readings is obtamed. Tho
esistlncrhitroduced for the reproduction of each reading indicate*
the appSent resistance of the ^Une when that reading was taken.
The reldin-s wiU generally difl-er because of the existence of a yari-
in i'0!7?i^<^f^^»»<^f' ^A'jJ'pl^'iBieofSaDlral Effect tothe
m art. TELEOEArn i" »» "'' 'j'.,.f' ''^f Sofu^ „^^m"nt lo telegraph
tion of tlie whole line were Krfe='>,"'° f '"^°Sf" " r and amlranotnctor
jero ;.b..t, »l,en looked for ".th a battery of 8ait«Wer«'"cra^^^ .^ .^ ^
ofsuit.ible sensibility, indications of a cumnt are aljajs^oun ■ j, .^^
very short length of very pcrteetly ">' '^^.'J^, '1°^ ''J?' 'g^blS fte measu.0 of the
measure of the strength of this cun;ent divided by tl.eab^^^^^^^ i„sidatioD
electromotive force of the battery gives ^'J, "°„^'J'"™ "Ini^^ccepted in any de-
of the cable. No telegraphic testing °"E" J" /"'" i° ^ dSer altl,un..;b
paitinent of telegraphic l>"="/'^?,^„X„?<rnt ins^meTit ° or worWog li'i absoUU«
^.i^^^^lIrSKK^g^^fSsbyPro.'V..^
8 For this theory, see ^LicraiciTV, vel. vm. j. i-.
i
TELEGRAPH
117
craistances, when rinc and copper wore respectively to the line, will
gire nearly the true resistance. Since the deflexions arc reproduced
by substituting resistances
for the line, the gih-ano-
metor zero may be cS tho
scale to one side, and
hence the total deflexion^
.and therefore the sensi-
bility, may be made very
considerable. In this case
the reversing key K is re- ,
ouired for keeping the de- (~e| ■ p^. g
flexion in the same direc- 1 I *' '
tion. AVith a perfectly insulated battery this can be accomplished
by putting the galvanometer between the battery and the key K ;
but the arrangement shown is safer. The most suitable galvano-
meter for these tests is a dead-beat mirror galvanometer with a long
enough suspension to prevent error from tie viscosity of the fibre.
(Such an instrument is much to be preferred to the astatic form,
, es;>ecialiy when vaiiable earth-currents are present.
By differ- (3} A highly sensitive modihcation of method (2) is obtained by
eatial ^ the use of a differential galvanometer, one coil of which is joined in
^viDO- circuit *ith the standard resistances and the other coQ with the
B.cter. ^line. The resistances are then adjusted to balance, or to give no
'ptrmanent deflexion when the battery circuit is closed. Several
balances with positive and negative currents must b© taken and
.< the results combined as indicated above.
B.v eiec-' (J) When an electrometer is employed for 'testing insulation, as
trometer. descrjbcd below, it may be used for the wire resistance also either
by substituting it for tUe galvanometer in Wheatstone's bridge
method (fig. 8, G) or by that shown in fig. 10. One pole of the
battery B is joined to the
line through the reversing
key K and the resistance K,
the other pole being to the
■eaith. The electrometer £1
is then applied to the two
•ends of R and to the end of
I and the earth alternately [71
and the relative deflexion ^~^
K,
Fig. 10.
noted. The deflexions should be as nearly as possible equal ; that
is, R should be as nearly as possible equa'l to I. The form of re-
versing key shown at K, is convenient for this test, as it allows
the comparisons to be made quickly ; and, as the readings can be
always taken to the same side of zero, the whole length of the scale
is available for each deflexion. The key consists of two ordinary
front and back stop single lever keys fi.\cd together by an insulat-
ing piece i at such a di.'stanco apart that the contact stops a, b and
c, d are at the corners of a square. Suppose one pole of the battery
put to the line and the resistance R adjusted until no change of
deflexion is obtained by depressing K, ; then R is equal to I if there
is no earth disturbance. Then put the other pole of the battery
to the line ; turn the levers of K through 90° round the pivot ;) ;
and repeat the adjiistraent of R for a second determination of t.
Repeat these measurements several times and combine the results
ill the manner described in method (2). If R is not made equal to
I, the resistances are in the i-atio of the corresponding deflexions.
Measnre-' MiMSuremcnl of Insitlaim Mesistanoe. — (1) In the direct deflexion
tiient . method the connexions are the same as those shown in fig. 9, except
vrinsola- that the,distant end of the line is insulated. Very great care must
nr re- he taken that the galvanometer and all the connexions between it
distance ; and the end of the line are so well insulated that no sensible part
•Jirect of the observed deflexion is due to leakage through thcrn. In
deflexion rnaking the test, first earth the line for five minutes ; then, with
Biethod. the galvanometer short-circuited, apply the zinc pole of the battery
to the line ; at the end of from thirty seconds to a minute, depend-
ing on the length and capacity of the line, remove the. short-circuit
plug ; and record the deflexion at the end of every ten or fifteen
seconds during the vihole time (usually from ten to twenty minutes)
the test is continued. Again earth the line for an interval equal
to that during which the- battery was applied ; then apply the
copper pole of the battery and repeat the readings as before. U=ing
the deflexions as ordinates and the corresponding times a.^ absciss.-B,
construct a smooth cur\-e for both the zinc and the copper test
The galvanometer constant divided by the mean ordinate of these
curves at any time gives the insulatiou at that time. To deter-
mine the galvanometer constant, substitute a high resistance R, say
<- ne megohm, for the line, and shunt the galvanometer with a shunt
i. If the deflexion under these circumstances is d and G is the
galvanometer resistance, the constant is
C=Rrf2±i.
s
K1«:WS»- (2) The electrometer method is only applicable to lines of con-
'"*'*'■ siderable inductive capacity, but is particularlv well suited for
method, cable testing Tlie battery B (fi?. l\) is connected through a re-
Teraing key K, to the cud» of tne rciistauce slide a4, one end of
which is put to earth. Tho slide generally consists eithef of 10 or
100 equal resistances, amounting in the aggregate to from 10,000
to 100,000 ohms. The cable
can be connected by means
of the reversing key K to
either pair of quadrants of
the electrometer El, the
slider s being at the same
time put to the other pair.
To determine the constant
of the electrometer, con-
nect the earth wire lo with
the cable terminal and the
slider mth contact 1, and
observo the deflexion ; this
should be the same for both
directions of the current _
through the slide ; its value multiplied by 10, when the slide i*
made up of ten coils, gives tho value in scale divisions of the
full difference of potential between the ends of the slide. This
number added to the zero reading of the electrometer is called tho
inferred zero. To find the insulation of the cable, remove the wira
w, put in the short circuit plug/;, move the slider to contact 10,
and, the distant end of the cable being insulated, apply by means
of K, the zinc pole of the battery to the cable and tlie copper pole
to the earth. Allow sufficient time for the cable to charge— say
one minute for a cable of 2000 knots— then remove the short-cir-
cuit plug and take readings every fifteen or thirty seconds. Tho
difference of these readings from zero gives the fall of potential of
the cable duo to discharge through the insulating coat.. Next
earth the cable at both ends for a time equal to the duration of tlia
last test, and after reversing K put the copper pole of the battery
to the cable and the zinc pole to the earth and take another series
of readings. Subtract these readings from the inferred zero, and,
using the differences as ordinates and the corresponding times as
abscissa?, draw two curves. To find the insulation of the cable at
any interv.al I after the battery was applied, draw a tangent to tho
curve at the point corresponding to that time and produce it to cut
tho axis of the ordinates. Let D, be the ordinate to the point of
intersection, and D the ordinate at tho time t ; -then, if C be tha
capacity of the gable in microfarads and I its insulation in megohms^
1= 'D .
C(D,-D)
If the difference between the reading and the inferred zero at tW
times £ and <, be D and D^, the insulation is given by the equation
._-4343(<i-0
^-ClogD/Di'
when <! - < is reckoned in seconds. This latter is t^e formula coiji
monly used ; it gives the insulation at some time in tho interval
between the two observations ; the exact time depends on the rata
of "absorption " of the ca^le.
The advantages of th»-electromcter method of testing cables are
the comparative steadiness of the needle during earth-current dis-
turbances, its high sensibility for the detection of small intermittent
faults, and the fact that simultaneous tests can be taken from both
ends of the cable. Ia-<)rder to test from both ends simultaneously
one or other of the foHoiving methods inay be adopted. Call tha
ends of the cable A and B, and suppose the operator at A is to be-
gin the test. The operator at B joins the copper pole to the earth
and the zinc pole to the line, and leaves the slider of his slide re-
sistance at the earth end of the slide. Then, at a time previously
arranged, he watches until he sees tho electrometer begin to indi-
cate a charge in the cable, ai^d moves the slider along th.e slide so
as to keep tho electrometer near zeia As soon as the electrometer
ceases to indicate increase of charge he ceases to move the slider
and begins to record the deflexions at regular inteiyals, tho first
reading being taken as zero. The other method is to leave tha
slider permanently to earth and keep the electrorfleter so insensitive
that the deflexion is always within the limits of the scale. Ob.
serve the time at which the electrometer begins to^be deflected, and
from that time onward take readings every tliirty seconds during
the time of the test. The mean of the readings taken at both ends,
reduced to the same sensibility, should be used for calcul.%ting tho
insulation. This method not only eliminates the effects of earth-
current disturbance but also throws light on the natats and di* '
tribution of such disturbances.
When an electrometer is not available and tho line is too much FaU of
disturbed for good tests to be obtained by the galvanometer method, potential
the following procedure may be adopted. Join the battery and the method
galvanometer in series with the cable as for tho direct deflexion by gal-
test. Short-circuit the galvanometer and charge the cable for one vano-
miuute. Insulate the cable for fifteen seconds ; then break the cneun
short circuit of the galvanometer; again apply the batter}', and
take the deflexion produced by the charge. Keep the battery on
the cable for fifteen seconds, and during that time take if possibla
the direct di.Il<.;viou reading two ur three times. A^jaiu insulate JfoT
118
TELEGRAPH
fifteen seconds and repeat the above readings ; and continue the
earns cycle of operations for the whole time of the test. After
earthing the cable for the proper interval repeat the above test
with the other pole of the battery to the cable. To reduce the
charge readings to absolute measure, find the deflexion of the gal-
vanometer needle due to the charge of a condenser of n microfarads
capacity by the testing battery ; let d be this deflexion. Then the
deflexion that would be obtained by charging the whole cable w^uld
be Cdfn, and, if D be any one of the deflexions dunng the test,
VnfCd is the fraction of the whole charge which has been lost in
the fifteen seconds immediately preceding this charge ; thus
4343x15
The method just described takes advantages in a somewhat imper*
feet manner of both the direct deflexion and the electrometer
t«at ; but the galvanometer shonid have such a long period that
the whole of the charge can take place before the needle is sensibly
moved from its zero position, and that the vibration of the needle
must not be damped to any great extent, — a condition which renders
tbe instrument unsuitable for direct deflexion testine.
The pomta with regard to the cable which should be particularly
attended to when testing for insulation are — the continuity of the
insulation all through the test, that is, there should be no sign of
a breakdown for ever so short a time ; the rate of polarization with
positive and negative current is always the same in a perfect cable,
t)ut IB seldom so when a fault exists ; the absolute insulation with
both currents should also be the same if the cable is perfect, but is
never so for any length of time when a fault exists. If the insula-
tions show any sign of being defective great care must be taken
not to apply a powerful battery to the cable, unless the objeot is
to increase or " break down " the fault. The resistance of a fault
IS generally diminished by applying the zinc pole of the battery to
the cable and increased by applying the copper pole ( but if the
fault 13 small it sometimes happens that both currents increase
the resistance. Even a very powerful battery may in such a case
fail to increase the fault.
Tbom- Capaaly Tests.— The arrangement of the connexions for Thom-
son s son's capacity test are shown in fig. 12^ A well-insulated battery
capacity B 13 connected through a reversing key K, to the slide resistance ab.
t<4t
rOQ
ant", by means of a key
K a can be put to a
standard condenser C
and b to the cable.
or the condenser and
the cable can be con-
nected together and
then both put to
earth through the
galvanometer G by
closing the key K,.
Any point m the re-
sistance ab can be put
to earth by means of
the slider s. Suppose
the middle point put to the earth, then C and L will be charged to
equal potentials but of opposite sign. If the connexions to the
slide are broken and C is joined to L, the resulting charge will be
zero when the capacity C is equal to the capacity L, and when Rj
IS closed no current will flow through G. SimiUrlv, if as is to sb
as L IS to C the resulting charge is zero. Hence when, after join*
■ing C to L, no deflexion is shown on G when Kj is closed —
L=C
sb
Gott 8 tA roodificatioD of this test has bten suggested by Mr 7obn Gott.
lest. The condenser C is joined in seiies with the cable and one end of
the slide is put to earth. The galvanometer G is joined from
■the end of the cable to the slider 5 and the position of the latter,
' which gives no deflexion, is found by successive trials, the cable
being discharged and recharged between the trials. A small con-
ienser in the galvanometer circuit is an advantage, as it allows
leveral adjustments to be made without discharging the cable.
rhe most suitable instrument, however, is an electrometer, as it
allows the adjustment to be made at once.
Df- The capacities of condensers may be compared by charging or
Snutyp discharging the.n through a galvanometer and comparing the
lefexions, or, as in De Sauty's method, by substituting them for
wo sides of a Wheatstone's bridge and finding the ratio of- the
esistances in the other two sides; then, with the galvanometer
ircuit closed, the battery circuit can be closed without producmg
■■ ny deflexion. The galvanometer circuit must join the condensers
1. the same points as the bridge resistances. These methods are
^uite unsuited for telegraph-line testing because of the resistance
and the inductive retardation of the line.
Tests of a SubTturged Cable. — During the submergence of a cable
u IS necessary to 1 rovide the ricans of knowing at every instant
whether it continues in perfect electrical condition, so that should Teste aJ
any fault develop it can beat once detected and further paying out sub-
stopped until it IS removed. It is also of great importance that mergec3
the -ship and shore should be in telegraphic communication with cable,
each other. The arrangements made for tnese purposes by diflferent
electricians vary considerably ; but the general principle will be
gathered from fig. 13. which includes all that is absolutely necessary,
for the purpose. The
principal testing sta
tion IS always on board
the ship, and from it all
the testing operations
both on board and on
shore are regulated.
Referring first to the
arrangements on board,
B 13 the testing battery, ;
K the testing key, and -
G the testing galvano ^ r
meter ; Bj is the sig- "^
nailing or '* speaking " » ^ '^'S- *^ *
battery, K, the key, and G, the galvanometer ; R is a resistance box
and E the earth pb re — the ships side in this case. The battery B
IS connected through the key K, the resistance R, and the galvano-
meter G to the cable, as for direct deflexion testing. The shore end"
of the cable is at the same time connected to one set of plates of a.
highly insulated condenser Cj and {although this may be omitted)
to one pair of quadrants of an electrometer El. The other pair of
plates uf the condenser are put to earth through the signalling
key K,, It is convenient also to have a second condenser Q| on
shore, the capacity of which can be readily varied, so arranged that
Its capacity can be added to that of Cj by depressing the key K, and
again discharged through a galvanometer G by releasing the key.
The operations are then conducted as follows. The insulation is-
measured on board ship, alternately with positive and negative
currents of from ten to fifteen minute-'*' duration, by observing the
deflexion on the galvanometer G ; and the reading at the end of
each minute, or oftener, is recorded in a diary. The continuity of
the conductor is tested at short intervals — say every five minutes —
by the observer on shore depressing the key K and thus adding the-
capacity of C to the cable. This gives a sudden deflexion on the
galvanometer G on board, and at the same time shows that the
conductor is continuous and that the observer on shore is attending:
to his duties. When the shore key K is released, the discharge
through G is indicated by a throw deflexion, the amount of which
is recorded in the diary and shows the potential to which the shore
end of the cable is kept charged. "V.'hen the electrometer £1 is-
used, a continuous test of the potential at the shore end is obtained,,
and the development of a fault in the cable is at once indicated-
It is convenient for this purpose to dispense with the charge in the-
electrometer jar and needle and connect the needle to the pair ol'
quadrants which are joined to the cable. The deflexion is tht^n.
proportional to the square of the potential and is always to one sidf
of zero, so that the whole range of the scale is available for the de-
flexion. The tests for wire- resistance and capacity aie practically-
the same as those already described. They are in ordinary circum-
stances of much less importance than the insulation tests. The
wire-resistance test is of great value, however, for giving a close-
estimate of the temperature of the submerged cable, and hence lor
giving the means of comparing the tests of the submerged cable
with those of the cable previous to submersion. In laying short
lengths of cable the shore station may be dispensed with and capacity
tests relied on for continuity. Communication between ship ant^
shore is caiTied on by means of the keys Kj, Kj, the galvanometer
Gj. and the batteries B„ B,. The signalling key on board the slnp.
adds or subtracts the electromotive force of tbe battery Bj from the-
testing battery, and hence varies the potential of the cable. This is-
shown on shore by the partial charge or discharge of C^ passing
through the galvanometer G, and is interpreted in accordance with
the single needle alphabet in the ordinary way. In a simil'ii
manner the signalling key on shoie varies the charge of Cj, ar.d
so causes slight variations of the testing-current on board the ahi\>,
which are read on the galvanometer Gj and interpreted in the eaiue
way. The testing is usually suspended dunng the signalling ; b jv
if the message is long an insulation reading is taken every lew
minutes according to pre-arrangement
The galvanometers used at sea require to be constructed so that Manis.^
the rolling of the ship does not deflect the needle, either on account galvac-
of its inertia and the action of gravity, or of the relative changes m omcte?
the position of the ship's magnetism The best form of marine
galvanometer consists of two short bobbms of fine silk -covered win-
placed end to end, about an eighth of an ujch apart, and havin«
their axes in the sime line, with a very light mirror, carrying ce
mented to its back one or more small magnets suspended betwt-eu
the two bobbins in such a way that the centre of the mirror u ic.
their common axis. The mirror and magnet system weighs t'rnfu
one-half to one grain tt is suspended as shown lu tig 14 b\ "^
TELEGRAPH
Com-
plet«
rupture
with con
(1 actor
ilL-iU-
'ttcd
p;et«
fnctnre
with end
pxrCially
euthed.
PirtLil
Mrth
irithout
Picture.
single silk fibre/, which passes t^ro«gh the centre of iucrtij of tlie
mirror and needle system m and is Iked at one end directly to tlio
frame F and at the other end to a light
•spring 5. The frame F is made thin
enougli to slide into the opening between
the two bobbins, so that the mirror can
be easily uken out for adjustment when
necessary. So long as the suspending fibre
passes through the centre of inertia of vi
it is clear that no motion of translation
of F can produce rotation of the mirror.
When the instrument requires to be highly
sensitive, as for testing purposes, it is
shielded from the action of the ship's snd
the earth's magnetism by enclosing it in
a massive iron case. For signalling pur
poses the controlling magnet is arranged
to produce at the needle a field so strong Fio. 14.-Manneg.lT.no.
that the effect of variations of external mag- meter.
oetism is inappreciable.
Tesliny /or f.iiiUs. — Numerous methods have been proposed for
the localii-Ttion ef faults in telegraph lines, some of a complex char-
acter and adapted to the cases of faults of a kind which fortunately
seldom, if ever, occur. We give here a brief outline of tie tests
for the cases of most common occurrence.
For the deteomnation of the position of a complete rupture with
the conductor insulated both the insulation and the capacity tests
are theoretically applicable. The insulation of a line of uniform
• t)-pe and material is inversely as its Icag'h ; hence if a piece is
broken off the insulation is increased. If I be the total insulation
before rupture. I, the insulation of one section after rupture, and I
the total length of the bne, the length of the section b I/'I,. Un-
fortunately it is dilficult to obtain the necessary accuracy in insula-
tion testing on account of the great influence of earth -currents
on the result ; but apart from this there is always some uncertainty,
especially in cables, as to the insulation at the" break. For cables
a fairly reliable test can be obtained from the capacity even when
the insulation at tlie fault is somewhat imperfect, if it be sufficient
to hold the greater part of the charge for a few seconds, since the
amount of loss in any shoi;t interval can be estimated by a separate
test. The capacity of a uniform cable is inversely as its lencth •
hence, if C be the total capacity of the perfect cable and cfthe
capacity of one section, the length of that section is /C,/C. When—
as 13 almost always the case— the cable is not quite uniform in
electrical quality and iii temperature, a table or a curve showing
the wire resistance, the insulation, and the capacity up to any point
from either end shoald be kept for reference.
It is nit at all uncommon in cables for one side of a fracture to
be partially insulated through the conductor not breaking exactly
.nt the same point as the insulator. In this case, however, the
other end will be in most cases almost perfectly earthed and the
position of the fault can be very nearly determined by the wire-
resutance test. When both ends are partially insulated it is very
difficult to obtain a near approach to the position of the fault because
of the uncertainty as to which side of the break offers the greatest
resistance. A first approximation is obtained by Cudin" the wire
rraistance from both ends and subtracting the total wire resistance
of the cable from the sum of these. This gives the sum of the
resistances at the fracture, and half of this, if it is not too great,
subtracted from the resistance of either section gives an approxima-
tion to the resistance of that section np to the break. If, however,
the resistance at the fracture is comparable to the total wire re^
sistance of the cable, this method is useless. An approach to the
solution of the difficulty can be obtained from capacity tests, the
cable being discharged through different resistances at the testin"
end. But the procedure is very uncertain and difficult, and a full
discussion of it would take more space th,in can be afforded here
The resistance at a fault can sometimes be greatly diminished by
repeated application alternately of the positive and negative poles
of a. powerful battery to the cable, but this should never be resorted
to if It can possibly be avoided. The direct deflexion method of
taking wire resistance is most'suitable for these tests The resi^t-
•aace seems to diminish gradually after the -battery is applied until
It reaches ;i mmimum value, after which if again incrrases This
niaximum .lede.xion should be taken as indicating most nearly the
true wire resistance up to the fracture.
.„]!''? /,"'^ ''m" ■' * P*"^'^' ^"'^ '^'"•°"t fracture, and both
l^^ f u '^"'i "", ^"i'^We-as in factory testing? or whe^ a
^?Si''";r',"'^**^ '"^'■'*' "" ^^ used-tL most satisfactory
method IS the Iood test In this the two sections of the S
f.«n two sides of tSe Wheatstone's bridge ; one pole of the baUery
» put to. tho junction of the other twoSides S the other ™>^e
^.^^''i^^Y?' PT'''^^''^ "> '^' f^""- The ratio of the res^
ances m tie bridge when balance is obtained gives the ratio o? he
res stances of the two sections of the cabks or the ratio of the
Si ^Sn,"*^ oie^ection to the resistance of the other section p us
the resisbince of the secoad cable. The tofl resistance nf the
11?
c.iMe be ::ig knowu, it is easy to determine the position of the fault
'.Vhen the fault has a high resistance it is necessary to make a cor.
rection for the went of Dcrfect insulation in the sound part of the
cable. When both eii3s of the cable are not avai'-ible, measure
the potential at the testing end and the resistance between that end
and the earth, and simultaneously measure, by means of a slide re-
sisUnce and zero galvanometer or by means of a quadrant electro-
meter, the potential at the distant end. Then, if V be the potential
at the testing end, v the potential at the distant cud, and K the re-
sistance measured, the true resistance of the fault is R(l -r/V)
Another simple, although less perfect method, may bo mentioned.
Measure the resistance between both ends and the e.-i'rth and subtract
from the sum the true-ivire resistance of the cable ; the different
13 twice the resistance of the fault. The imperfection of this method,
and indeed of any which involves two observations noi made simul-
taneously, lies in the variable character of the resistance of a fault.
m. MoDER.v Telegraphs.
The code of signals introduced by Morse is still employed in the Morae
nited btates and Canada, and the intematinml end., in vnm.o ;, .,...._
O'sreia
TT -i J £j ».f,"--o iuL.,^utcu uj, ..luiso i» Mm euipioyea in mc
United btates and Canada, and the international code » vogue ir.
Europe differs only slightly from it Currents in one direction on! r
are used, and different combinations of from one to four long and
short contacts form the letters, while the numerals are represented
by groups of five signals, and punctuation and other special signs
by groups of six and sometimes more. The instrumen.ts used for
land telegraphs on this system are of two types,-" sounders," which
indicate by sound, and "recorders," which record the signals.
(1) Recorders vary in details of construction, but alFhave the Mors.,
same object, namely, to record the intervals during which the curieii t recorders;
IS applied to the line. In the earlier forms of instrument the record
was made by embossing lines on a ribbon of paper by means of a
sharp stile fixed to one end of a lever, which canied at the other
end the armature of an electromagnet This method of recording
IS still largely emjiloyed in America, and certainly has the advan-
tage of simplicity. The form of instrument almost universally
used m Europe makes the record in ink, and hence is sometimes
called the "ink-writer." This method has the advanta-re of dis-
tinctness, and so is less trying to the eyes of the operators. The
action of the instrument wUl be understood from the annexed
sketch (fig.
15). Sup-
pose s to
be a strip
of paper
which is
being'pull.
edtowapis
the left by
means of -two rollers r, and r;
moved by a train of mechanism.
Underneath the roller r, a small
wheel i is kept turning by tlie
same mechanism, and has its
lower edge in contact with the
surface of ink in the ink-welj w.
When a current is sent through
the magnet n, the armature a is ^''o- 15
attracted and the lever I lifts the
ink-wheel i into contact with the. paper, against the surface of
which It rolls untU the current is broken, thus making a maik tho
length of which depends on the speed of the mechanism ar.d the
time the current flows. As tho speed of the mechanism is nearly
constant, the relative lengths of the marks depend only on the
duration of the current In this way the letters of the alphabet
or any other understood signs, are indicated by groups of Ion" pnd
short marks, commonly called "dashes" and "dots." °
(2) Ojwrators who use the record-
learn to read the message by the click
against its stop, and as this is a less
reading, and leaves tho hands and
eyes free to write, the sound is usu-
ally preferred. Thus, when it is not
necessary to keep a copy, a much
simpler instrument may be employed
and the message read by sound. Tlie
earliesl^successful form was Bright's
bell sounder, which consisted of two
bells of distinct tone or pitch,
one of which was sounded when
the current was sent in one
direction and the other wheii
it was revei-sed. This instri-
ment ^va3 capable of giviiit;
very considerable speed, but it*
was more complicated than
that how in use, which consists
3IorbC tnl; writer, one-roerlh.'
fu'l size.
Ing instrument soon Jforse
of the armature sounder^
fatiguing method of
. 16.— Morse >.
lull .-..:<:.
irth
ouiy of au cVcfroiiingnet, with its armature lever ari-auged to stof
TELEGRAPH
Chemical
tele-
graphs.
Auto-
matic
tde-
graplis
^Vheat•
RUtO-
rFatic.
^^L^nnH The form of sounder commonly used in EDgland
■""".'^"^rfi^lfi- it UOM of the simplest possible instruments,
S t^ djuftil'to'the^c^i^nt by tig^teniTg or slackening tie
-iddifHo^r^^'ctslfS^ptr":^
t^s urn and a Ught contact spring made to press continu- ^^
^de'^ed'ty mea^ine^Xn hJe^ been introduced by S.cmens
.^^Halske Garnier Humaston, Siemens, and Little.
rods M M„ the one as much in front of the other as there is smce
Utlelk WO successive holes in the perforated ribbon. To the o her
e^drof A, B rods H, H, are loosely hinged, their ends passing
oosely though holes' in 'the ends of the bar P, f-h 'S "i^^^"
the divided disk D. By meal's of two collars K, h , anrt the w iiwi
W thltek D is made to -oscillate in unison v:.tl. the beam R
The cranks Cand C, are connected with tbo poles of the seudms
levers. Tlie punches are arran
levers are adjusted^ so
that the left-ha^d one
moves a, i, c and'^unches
a row of holes across the
paper (group 1 in the
figure), the middle one
inoves 6 only and punches
Fig. 17
™:n1rKr2?nr ^gure,, whiJe the right^^^^^^^^
Fi::r;erfoidfei°sJ^^'tnVSfrutW^^^
In Th I wkv several thicknesses of paper can be perforated at the
F^^J 18 An ebonite beam E is rocked up and down rapidly by
k^Sin^f mX;\mand movesJhecr^^Aand^B^^^^^^^
XrThrl^th^e ?prinV »% -^ ?bey carry two li«h. vertical
battery B. The operation is as follows. The paper ribbon R is
moved forward by its centre row of holes at tbe proper speed above
The upper ends of the rods M, M, ; should there be no hole m the
^b^STt pushes the crank A or B °" °f »°^^' j;'* ''Kve^' ^
and prevents a current passing to the line Sh"""' ''"^l^,^"' »
row of holes, like group 1 above, be perforated, the rod M, will tirst
be allowed to pass°through thf paper and copper will be put to tho
Une at the nSthalf stroke cf the beam. M."'" /^ '«',?^,^
as the disk D reverses the battery zinc will be put to the ime.
Thus for a dot first a positive and then a negative currem are sent
to the line, the effect oY the positive current Continuing during the
me requ?;;d for the paper U. travel the space YrLt"mrtt 'l
^e^is°'irc;p^;r?:t\ri4\t'r^^^^^^^
m'^'u noT'n^'^hrough, as there is "<> l."]- i°. ^"^ P^\P^\i„ ^^
at the third half stroke it passes through and zinc s put to tiie
Une ThS for a dash the interval between the positive and U.a
negative current is equal to the time, the paper t-kes to trav over
twice the space between two successive holes. Hence lor sei.aing
^ h a doS a dash reverse currents of short duration are sent
through uTline, but the interval between the reversal is three
times a^ great for the dash as for the dot I" *e receiving instru-
Tnl Uif electromagnet is so constructed that the armature if
nXd into any position by either current, remains in that position
IS her the c/rr^nt contin'ues to flow »;,''°t. ""^j^/.^^XTs d"
;= made to act on the magnet. For the dot the armature is ae
flecTedbrthe first current^he ink-wheel being b^uglit into con-
tect wit 1 the paper and after a 6hort inter^-a pulled back by tho
^verl^ current^ ^In the case of the dash the ink-wheel is brought
[^lo contoct with the paper by the first current as before and a
nulled b^kb7 the reverse current after three limes t'le interval
?h" effect of eectrosutic induction is reduced to lJ"""^^^r
Through the instrumentality of this ^f;"! f "^"^ ^,f ^",i;°e1„'
per minute have lately been transmitted by Mr Preece between
4rfi^fco^r^ISS^etm'prme"n?rnTi%^^^^
¥h\trnt^\^s::tt^htHfeLtbrl^^^^^^^^^
on the printing instrument or to close a loc. circuit bj means °'^
of the soft iron cor.^ and is pulled by a strong spring, the ten«»»
i
Hughes's
tyiie-
printing
tele-
graph
L E G R A P H
121
of which u ftdjQstt?a ou aa to b«: litttrlv t^ca] to the XLfifTietic attrac-
tion. Tl'.e current is seLt ia the propor directioii lo ainiinisli the
pow-er of the magnet and allow the spring to prepomierat*. A very
powerful action is thus obtained by means of a very small current,
the actual work being done by motive-power in the instrument
itself. After the letter is printed the mechanism short-circuits the
magnet and replaces the armatura automatically. The printing
action is as follows. The type-wheel W is carried round continu-
" American combination printing talegntph," because i
part of Hughes's and part of House's instruments.
z'h full sire.
— HliL-Ues'styp*;:. ;-.:.:':. -.Pi-
ously by the clockwork, to which it is attached through a friction
sleeve .which allows it to be stopped, and pushed backward or for-
ward without stopping the mecTianism. Another shaft carrying
three pams is arranged so as to be locked into gear with the wheel-
work when the armature leaves the poles of the magnet. The cams
then come into action in rotation ; the first moves the adjustment
lever, shown to the left of W in the 6gure, which pushes a wedge-
shaped piece into the teeth of the type-wheel and adjusts it exactly
to the proper position for printing ; the second cam presses the paper
against the type ; the third moves forward the paper ; a fourth cam
replaces the armature of the magnet and relieves the cam shaft,
leaving the instrument ready to receive another letter. The whole
of this operation occupies only a small fraction of a second. By
means of the adjustmeiit lever or " corrector " I every error in syn-
chronism decidedly less than half the space from letter to letter is
perfectly corrected each time an inipresiion is made. Thus, during
the time the receiving instrument at one station is in use, its type-
wheel is kept in perfect agreement with the sending wheel at the
other station ; and, if the electric action keeps time, a wrong letter
cannot be printed unless the rate of the clockwork is at fault by
some such amount as one or two per cent. If the two wheels are
allowed to nin a long time without the electric m.iintenance of
agreement, they will be found more or less at variance, as the
pieces of clockwork, however good, cannot be perfect. All that is
neoessaiy to bring them into agreement again is to strike several
times the key corresponding to a prearranged adjustment signal —
that corresponding to the dot type, for instance. The receiver knows
(according to the regulated system of working) that it is adjustment,
not message, that is being sent ; and he turns his type-wheel by
hand till it prints dots. He then signals back "O.K." ("All
correct ! ") and is ready to receive the message. If by any accident
his type-wheel gets on a wrong letter in the course of a message,
he disturbs the sender (who all the time sees the effect of his sending
printed before his own eyes) by sending back a few currents on
him ; he receives dots by way of acknowledgment, and resets his
type-wheel to print correctly. This system of telegraphic printing
has a great advantage over the step-by-step system in using con-
tinuous instead of intermittent currents, and so avoiding the neces-
sity for the rapidly acting electric escapement, which, however skil-
fully planned and executed, is always liable to failure when worked
too rapidly. In Hughes's instrument almost perfect accuracy and
certainty nave been attained ; and in actual practice it has proved
to be decidedly superior to all previous type-printing telegraphs,
'lot only in speed and accuracy, but in less liability to mechanical
derangement from wear and tear and from accident It involves
many novel features : the receiving electromagnet is of peculiar
construction and remarkable elEciency ; the transmitting apparatus
has a contrivance to prevent unintentional repetitions of a letter
through the operator holdmg his finger too long on a key ; the
type-wheel has a lock for each station, to be opened by its own key,
one of the letter keys of any of the instruments in the circuit. This
instrument was for ?ome years extensively used in the United States, i For these and other type-prinUng instruments, see Prescotf s Blectricu^
Bi-til superseded by G. M. Pfcei|,s's modification of it, known as the I "'■'I (*« BUclric TcUgrafh.
it eniTxjdied
part of Hughes's and part of Hou3e~s instruments. With this
modified form somei*hat greater speed was obtained, but it was
found difficult to drive, requiring the use of steamer some such
motive-power. In a subsequent modification introduced in 1875
an electromotor is applied to drive the printing mechauism. This
allows a shorter train and stronger wheelwork to be used, secures
more certain action,, and involves less risk of derangement.
Hughes's form was taken up by the
French Government in 1860, and is still
very largely in use in France.
Stock and private line telegraph^ Stoct
constitute an important class of iustiu tele
ments, of which Laws's "gold indi fraphs^
cator, " introduced in 1866, maybe taken
as the forerunner. A brief description
of Calahan's stock telegraph, introduced
in 1867, will give a geueral idea of the
action of this class of instruments. The
printing mechanism consists of two type-
wheels, on the edge of one of which are
the letters of the alphabet and on the
edge of the other the numerals from 1
to 9 and fractions by eighths up to unity-
The type-wheels are placed side by side,
but can be turned independently of each
other. Beneath them a platen is carried
on one end of a lever, whose other end
13 attached to the armature of an electro-
magnet. Between the platen and the
wheels a ribbon of paper broad enough
to cover the edges of- both wheels is
passed. The instrument is worked by
three lines of wire, one for driving eac«
type-wheel and one for printing and feeding the paper forward.
The movement of the type-wheel is accomplished by an escapement
acted on by closing and opening the circuit of an electromagnet.
For the convenience of the sender the transmitting instrument is
made in the form of two dials, each resembling the dial of an
ABC instrument, round the edge of one of which lettere are
printed, and round the other the numerals and fractions. Mechanism
is provided for opening and closing the circuit, so that by tmninp
a handle (fixed to an axis passing through the centre of the dial)
until an index attached to it points to the letter which is to \ii
printed, the type-wheel of the receiving instrument is in the proper
position to print that letter, and this is accomplished by depressing
a key and closing the third circuit. The printing magnet then
raises the platen and presses the paper against the type. Suppose
direct United States telegraph stock is to be reported and the price
is 9|. The operator turns the index on the letter dial to D and
presses the printing key ; he next turr^s the index to period and
again presses the printing key ; he then turns in succession to U,
to period, to S. lo period, and prints these ; then he turns tht
index on the figure dial to 9 and prints it, lastly to | and to period,
and prints them. The quotation then reads on the naper ribbou
D. U. S. 9i.
Various modifications of this instrument have since been intro-
duced. In one form, the "universal stock printer." two lines or
wire are required, and both type-wheels are driven by one \nre,
the printing magnet being made to change the action from on*
wheel to the otlier when th3 wheels are' brought into a particular
position. In another, "Phjlps's stock prmter," only one liue of
wire is required, a polarized armature being used for moving the
type-wheels' and an ordinary neutral armature for the printing.
'The rapid reversals which work the polarized armature- do not last
long enough to move the printing lever, but when a pause is madt
the printing mechanism is relieved and a letter printed. This
instrument is similar in principle to the House apparatus and is
capable of working at a considerable speed.*
Co\vper's writing telegraph is designed to record the message in Cowptr'*
written characters ; its ariangcment is as follows ; — Two lines of writing
wire are connected, one with each of two small resistance slides, iele-
which are placed in such a way that the sliders -move in the sami graph,
plane but in directions at right angles to each other. A pen placec
at the point of intersection of the lines of motion of the two sliders
is connected with them in such a w-ay that, when it is moved, as in
the act of writing, each slider takes up that component of the
motion which is in the direction in which it is free to mo^e. The
sliders thus vary the resistance in the line circuits by an amount
proportional to the motion of the pen, and when a battery is kept
joined in the circuit the current varies in the same way. The
current is passed through the coils of two electromagnets at the
receiving end, each capable of giving motion to a pencil in one line,
at right angles to the direction of motion of the other. When the
pen at the sending end is moved as in the act of writing a message
26— %•
xxm.
i6
122
T E L E G Tl il »P H
Open
circuit,
siagle-
current
system.
Positive
audnega
tive
eiirrent.
'tho pencil at the receiving end moves in a corresponding manner
on account of the variations of the current, and in this way it
writes the message on a slip gf paper moving beneath its point.
McUiods of Working Telegraph Circuits. — (1) The arrangement
on the open circuit system for single-current working is shown in fig.
20, in which L, represents the line, G a simple form of galvanoscope,
used simply to show
that the currents are
going to line when
'he message is being
transmitted, K tho „1
transmitting key, B
the battery, I the re-
ceiving instrument,
and E the carth-
jiiate. The complete
circui' is from the
piate £ througli the instrument I, the key K, and the galvano-
scope G to the line L,, then through the corresponding instru-
ments to the earth-plate E at the other end, and back through
the earth to the plate E. The earth is always, except for some
tpecial reason, used as a return, because it oiTers little resist-
ance and saves the expense and the risk of failure of the return
wire. The eartli-jilate E ought to- be buried in moist earth or in
water. In towns the water and gas pipe systems form excellent
oarth-plates. It will be observed that the circuit is not in this
case' actually open; the meaning of the expression "open circuit"
is "no battery to line." Under normal circumstances the instru-
ments at both ends are ready to receive, both ends of the line being
to earth through the receiving instruments. A signal is sent by
<lepressing the key K, and so changing the contact from a to b,
and thus putting the battery to line. On circuits where the traffic
is Small it is usual to make one wire serve several stations. The
connexions at an intermediate or'wayside station are shown at W.
S is a switch, consisting of three blocks of brass fixed to an insulat-
ing base. W may be made the terminal station of L, by inserting
plug 3, and of L., by inserting plug 2, or the instruments may be
cut out of circuit by inserting plug 1. In ordinary circumstances
the messages from all stations ard sent through the whole line, and
thus the operator at any station may transmit, if the line is free,
by manipulating his key. The greatest inconvenience of this system
arises from the varying strength and resistance of the batteries
used at the different stations. As, however, delicate recording
instruments are seldom required on such circuits little difficulty is
experienced.
(2) The connexions for positive and negative current or single-
- needle working on open circuit are shown in fig. 21, in which all the
letters
the
Double
current.
is a reversing
key. The
levers 1 and 2 H^ ' ' " ' rt") * ' rt-\
jiress against L— ' Fig- 21. I — I I I
the stops a wlien the line is free ; hence the line is to earth at both
ends. But, if lever 1 is depressed, one pole of the battery is put
,0 line ; if 2 is depressed, the other pole is put to tho'Iine. In
this way the needles of tlie receiving instrument may bo made to
turn to either left or riglit ; and, if we call a motion to the left a
dot and a motion to the ri»ht a dash, the Morse alphabet may be
read from these motions, The connexions for wayside stations are
illustrated at W, and will be readily understood from the descrip-
tion given under single-current working above.
(3) When the line consists in whole or in part of underground
or submarine cable tlie capacity causes a very considerable dlnunu-
tion in tlie speed of working. This is to some extent got over by
putting the ^ L <■ r\
earth con- | ~l rW \^
nexion in ^"^
the middle
of tile bat-
tery and us-
ing double
the number
of cells, as
shown in
fig. 22 The
stop a of the
key K is
connected
Fig. 22.
_T
a
through » switch S with one polo of the battery B, and the stop b
ill the usual way with the other pole. Suppose the arm c of the
tiivitch S to be in contact with 2; then wnen the key Ib mani-
pulated it sends alternately positive and negative currents into tho
line. If the positive is called tho signalling current, the line will
be charged positively each time a signal is sent ; but as soon as the
signal is completed a negative charge is communicated to the line,
thus hastening the discharge and the return of the relay lever to its
insulated stop. This method of working has been already referred
to in connexion with Wheatstone's automatic system.
The connexions for single-current working on this system are Closed
illustrated in fig. 23. It difl'ers from the open circuit in only rcquir- circuit
system.
H Fig. 23. H
'^
r
is: b
-n
l_
ing one battery (although, as
in the figure, half of it is often
placed at each end), in having
the receivisg instrument be-
tween the line and tho key,
-and in having the battery con-
tinuously to the line. The
battery is kept to the line by
the bar c, which short-circuits
the keys. When signals are to
be sent from either station the
operator turns the bar c out of
contact with the stop b, and then operates precisely as in open cir-
cuit sending. This system is more expensive than the open circnit
system, as the battery is always at work ; but it offers some ad-
vantages on circuits where there are a number of intermediate
stations, as the circuit is under a constant electromotive force and
has the same resistance no matter which station is sending or
receiving. The arrangement at a wayside station is shown at W.
When the circuit is long and contains a^arge number of stations,
the sendiilg battery is sometimes divided among them in order to
give greater uniformity of current along the line. When only one
battery is used the current at the distant end may be considerably
affected by the leakage to earth along the line.
In working long circuits with ordinary instruments inconven- Relay
iently high battery power is required in order to send sufficient working.
current to produce the signals. In such cases it is usual to employ
a local battery to produce the signals and to close the local battery
circuit by means of a delicate circuit-closing apparatus called a
relay, which is a very delicate electromagnetic key having its lever
attached to the armature of the magnet. The arrangement at a
station worked by relay is shown in fig. 24, where L is the line of
wire, joined throngh ^i
the key K to one end
of the coil of the relay
magnet R, the other end
of which is put to earfh.
When a current passes
through R the armature
A is attracted and the
local circuit is closed
through the armature
at b. The local battery
Bi then sends a current
through the instrument p-^
I and records the signal. Fig. 24, j ^ |
In the form of relay indicated in the figure the armature is held
against the stop a by a spring S. In some cases — as, for example,
in Siemens's polarized relay, shown in fig. 25 — the armattire a is
put in contact through the pivot h
with one pole N of a permanent magnet
7n, the other pole 5 of which is fixed to
the yolk y of a horse-shoe electromag-
net Si. The armature is placed between
the poles of the electromagnet, a little
nearer one pole than tho other, so that
the magnetic attraction holds the con- /
tact lever against the insulated stop
without the aid of a spring. This form
of relay only answers to currents in one
direction, but it is capable of giving
great sensibility, and for some pur-
poses— for instance, in some methods
of quadruplex working — its directioniil
character is an advantage.
? Translation. — In a precisely similar manner a relay may be made IVansIi-
to re-transmit automatically the message over another line, or, what tion.
is the same thing, over a continuation of the same line when the
whole length is too great for direct working. It is not usual in
practice to employ the delicate receiving relay for re-transmitting
the message, but it is made to work a coarser instrument, which
takes tho place of the sounder, or, it may be, the sounder itself,
in the local circuit. It is clear that one receiving relay may bft
used to work a number of re-transmitting keys in the same local
circuit, and hence to distribute a message sinuiltaneously over a
number of branch lines from a central station.
Duplex, Quadruplex, and Multiple TeUgrnphij — Duplex tele- Duplex*
graphy consists in the simultaneous transmission of two messages, '*
t
Fio. 25.— Siemens's
polarized relay.
TELEGRAPH
hod
oj)» in each direction, over I Be sim,! wuv The solution of this
problem was attempted by Clntl of Vienna in 1853 and in the
foUowing year by Fnscheu and by Siemens and Halske. WitEin a
fe* years several methods had been proposed by differant inventors
but none were at first very successful, not from any (aaJt in the
pnnaple. but because the effect of electrostatic capacity of the line
was left out ol account in the early arrangements. The first to
totroduoe a really good practical system of duplex telegraphy, in
which ttusdiAculty was sufficiently overcome for land liD?purposes,
was J B btcams of Boston (Mass.). In order that the line between
two stations S, and S, may be worked on the duplex system it is
essential that the receiving instrument at S, shall not be acted on
6y the currents sent into the line at S,, and simiUrly that the
currents sent into the hne at S, shaU not act on the receivimj
Jistrament at S.^, while at the same time these currents most act
m the instruments at S, and 8, respectively The two method*
most commonly employed are the foUowing.
(I) In fig^2e B is the sending battery B, a resistance equal to
that of the battery, B a set of resistance coik, and C a condenser
ouppose the key at /^=n ^=~^
sUtion S, to be da- {^jl^- ^(fo)
pressed . then a cor- ■
cent Bows mto the
line through cir-
cuit I, and to earth
IhroQgli circuit 2.
Now if both these
currents pass, as in
lirated in the fig
are round the elec
irouiagnet of the
receiving instru LLI Pig 2o . ,
nent, but in opposite directions, and if theu strengths are pro
wrly adjusted, no effect wiU be produced on that ins&umeut At
station S.S however, the current flows to earth, partly through cir
123
affectea tj the mampulation of R if the resistance o is to that of ft
as^the fesistMce of L is to that of K , hence that is the afran»-
•ment-ased The same rcmaiks with regard to retardanon ^
Pig 27--
. 1 — J — 1 ■ >-"><="i uu>v3 lu eann, partly inrougn cir
luit 1 and partly through circuit 2. but in the same direction round
he coils of the receiving mstrument flence, if the current Is
^troug enough the receiving instrument at 8, will be set In actioa
similarly the depression of the key at 8, can be made to produce a
iignal at fa, and yet have no effec-t on the instrument at S~ The
accessary and sufficient condition is that the currents in circuits
a and 2 at the sending station shaU at aU times bear a certam
axed ratio to each other, depending on the coils of the receivma
nstrumenl at that station. If fur simplicity we suppose the resist
iuce of the Ime to be constant and not to be affected by the trans-
mtting apparatus, and to be of zero electrostatic capacity, the
ixed ratio may be obtained by adjusting R in the auxiliary circuit
2 In actual practice the line has capacity, and this is com-
pensated for by supplying to R from tie condenser 0 capacity
rquivalent to that of the line 0 should be of such a form that
the capacity in the circuit can be varied, and it must have the
lame mdactive retardation as the line ; that is to say, the capa-
:ity must be distributed along the resistance E in a manner enui.
talent to that m which the capacity of the line is distnbuted
ilong Its resistance A rough approximation to this adjustment
wiu answer the putiwse for ordinary land line working, but for
lubmanne cable work a very accurate adjustment U neceiary. In
jrder that the manipulation of the key may not affect the resist-
ance or the Ime, the resistance between the point D and E should
be as nearly as possible the same for all positions of the key
1 his implies that the keys shaU not at any time break circuit, nor
make contact on both the front and the back stops for more than
»n msunt. for an instantaneous break of the circuit would affect
the signals bein§ received from the other station. The principle
or the continuity preserving key," nsed for duplex workLg, will
be understood from the fignra So long as the key Is not dep%ssed
the hue IS kept to earth thiftngh the resistance B, , when fiie key
15 pushed down it suddenly changes to the battery B. being at the
nins, ,on in contact with boiTfe and B, This produces very
little .iBturbaoce because the key is moving quickly at that part
:>f >U stroke, and the resistance of the Ime and reviving instru-
aient ,, generJJy much higher than that of B, This is caUed
ihe differential method." The principle was first enimdated by
trucheo , but its present condition is the result of the labours of
a large nuniber of experimenters, among whom may be mentioned
|ien,...ns and Halske, ^Urk, E-Uund. GintE Nystrdm. heece.JJeddei^
Fam,-i, Maron, Wmter, Steams, and Muirhead
.hi'' I H< "'™°."1 "i"^^."^ '° "'"'''' '™ °^y '>'"■'' ■•«'''=' is lai<"™ as
f „ .>7 '? ?^ ""^ r"^ Jj?™ *•"* similarity of the arrangement (see
r„°™ '^\' "^ '^^ Wheatstone bnd™ Instead of Snding tT^
currents in the two branches of the cfivided circuit DP an/ DO
through the two coils of a differentially wound relay or receivine
m^runjent as m Fnscheu-, method, t^o resistances a and 6 arf
inwrted and the instrument.s are joined between P and Q. It is
Clear that if the difference of potential between P and Q is nnaffected
J. .1 r,'"!^ '*"'^°^ '"'y "^ "" •'^'"'^° "f ™^^'" '"'■ t^ke place
« the mslniment circo... Th. relative uotenrul ot P and Q is not
capacity tnat were made when describing ine diHerenna] meihovi
apply here also. One very great advantage in this method is that
the instrument used bet^veen P and Q may be of any ordinary form
Most importajit cables, such as those of the Eastern Telegiaph
Company and the various Atlantic cables, are worked duplix on
Muirhead'e plan. What may be cailed a mechanical method o)
duplexing a cable was described by Sir W Thomson in a patent
taken out by him in 1868. In this, as in the ordinarV meth^ a
dilferentiaUy wound receiving instrument was used, one coU beine
connected with the cable and the other with the earth ; but it
differed from other methods in requiring no 'artificial ■ or model
cable. 1 he compensation was to be obtained by working the sUdes
of a resistajice slide included in tke circuit of the compensatine
COU, either by the sending key ot by clockwork relieved by the key
so as to vary the resistance in that circuit according to any law
"i"fri^^ I™ "^"^"^ to prevent the receiving instrument beine
affected by the outgoing current Four years later Varley patenteS
his model cable, which vras the first near approach- to a successful
solution of the duplex problem on the prmaple now adopted It
was not, however, a sufficiently prfect representation of a laid
cable to serve for duplexing cables of more than a few hundred
miles in length. *
By an interesting modification of the bridge method, which has
been apphed with excellent results by Dr MuiAead to snbmanne
work, condensers are substituted for a and 6, one being also placed
In the circuit between P and Q. In this case no current flows from
the battery throogh the line or instruments, the whole action bema
inductive. As we have already stated, the distribution of the
capacity along the resistance R must in submarine cable work be
made to correspond very accurately with the distribution of the
capacity along the resistance.of the cable This is accomplished
by Dr Muirhead m the foUovring manner One side of a slieet of
paraffined paper is covered with a sheet of conducting substance
say tinloil. and over the other side narrow strips of the same sub-
stance are arranged gridironwise to form a continuous cirouit alone
the strip The Tjreadth and thickness of the strip and the thick
oess ot the paraffined paper are adjusted so that the relative resist
ance and capacity of this arrangement are the same as those of tha
cable with which it is intended to be used A large number of
such sheets are prepared and placed together, one over the other,
the end of the strip of the first sheet being connected with the
beginning of the strip of the second, and so on to the last sheet,
the whole representing the conductor of the cable In the same
way aU the conducting sheets oo the other side of the paper anj
connected together and form the earth-plate of this artificial cable,
thus representing the sea. The leakage through the insulator oJ
the cable is compensated for by connectmg high resistances be-
tween different points of the strip conductor and the earth coating
faults or any other irregularity in the cable may be reprosentod bv
putting resistances of the proper kind into the artificiaJ bne This
system of duplexing cables has proved remarkably successful
Quadruplex telegraphy consists in the simultaneous transmission Qoann)
oftwo messages from each end of the Una The only new problem plat '
introduced is the simultaneous transmission of two messages in the
same direction i this is sometimes called "diplex transmission"
The solution of this problem was attempted by Dr J B Stark of
Vienna in 1856, and during the next ten years it was worked at by
Bosscha, Kramer. Maron, Schaak, Schroder, Wartmann, and otheri
The first to attain success was Edison, and his method with some
modifications is still nsed One of the latest arrangements is shown
Ui fi^. 28, a bjief description of which will indicate the general
principle involved K, and Kj are two transmitting keys the
nature of which wiU be understood from the illnstration , R, and
Rj are two differentially wound polarized relays, both of which are
supposed to respond to positive currents and to be held against
their back-stops by ne^tive currents. When neither key is de-
pressed a current, which for convenience we call - 4. flows to the
line i this is sufficient to overoome the pvdl of the sprmg T m the
relay R. (the rooeiviug instruments are supposed to be at the other
end of the Ime), and hence the levers of both relays are held against
their back-stops. When K, is depressed a current - 1 is sent fo tb«
line, and, this being too weak to overcome the spring T, the lever
' Sm Ue Sauty, Jonn. Soc. TeL Eng., voL U.. 1871 """"
124
TELEGRAPH
of R) mov/?s into contact with tte auxiliaiy lever I and closes the
cucuitof the sounder Sj. When K„ only is depressed a curreDt + 4
is sent to the line. This acts on both relays, but is powerful enough
to overcome the ^^^
pull of the
spring Ti, and
» to more the
lever I and
break the cir-
cuit of the
sounder S, be-
fcre it has time
to act. Thus
Xj acts on the
sonnderS, but ^ ,
not on the ' — ' '^
soonder Sj. When both keys are dep.-^saed a current -f 1 is sent
into the line. This is sufficient to move the lever of R, into con-
tact with I but not to overcome the pull of Ti, and hence the circuit
of sonader S, is closed ; it is also sufficient to move the lever of
R, and close the circuit of Sj. When therefore both keys are down
the sounders Sj and Sj at the other end of the line are both set in
action ; the first responds to K, and the second to K,. Thus all
the conditions for the simultaneous transmission of two messages
are provided for. It is not necessary to enter again into the ques-
tion of continuity at the differ«nt positions of the keys. The figure
illustrates how this diple.t system may be duplexed, and hence how
quadruplex working can be obtained. It is only necessary to wind
3ie coils of the relay magnets differentially, when, by means of a
precisely similar arrangement to that used for simple duplex, the
instrnmenis at the sending station are left unaffected by the out-
going currents, biit are affected by the incoming currents. The
method, here indicated is on the differential principle ; but it is
scarcely necessary to say that the bridge method is eq^aally appli-
cable, A combination of the bridge and the differential methods
has been used by Prescott and Smith, and possesses some advan-
tages in certain cases. It is impossible in this article to go into
the great variety of detail in arrangement and method with which
it is possible to obtain good results.
MUtiple. The several methods that have been proposed for.-lhe transmission
of a number of messages in one direction on the same wire are
tedncrble to two classes. In one the time which a revolving con-
tact slider takes ^» make one revolution is divided into as many
intervals as there are sets of sending and receiving instruments on
the line, -and by means of it the current is closed through the
different sets of apparatus in succession. This implies the syn-
chronous movement of the revolving slidei-s at the two ends of the
line. In a sense this may be said to be simultaneous transmission :
all the messages are being sent at the same time, but the progress
of any one message is slower than it would be if it alone was occupy-
ing the whole line in the ordinary way. The method possesses some
advantages when the line is capable of being worked at a higher
speed than a single operator can attain, or when one of the stations
can advantageously be used as a distributing station, for in that
case one set of apparatus may be used as an automatic distributor.
Multiple telegraphy on this plan was proposed by Thomson in
1858.* A very complete set of apparatus for the purpose was
shown by Meyer at the Vienna exhibition of 1873." Delaunay's
multiple telegraph is the most recent development of the system,
and has been lately adopted on some circuits in Great Britain.*
In the other class there are joined to the two ends of the line of
^6 a number of branch circuits, in each of which a set of trans-
mitting and receiving apparatus is included. In the circuit, between
the line and each of the sending keys, an electromagnetic vibrator
is placed so as to open and close the circuit a great number of times
during each signal! The vibrators in the key circuits at one end
of the line have all different and, if possible, relatively inconimen-
Burable periods. The receivers at the other end of the line consist
of a corresponding set of electromagnetic vibrators,, mounted on
resonators and having exactly the same vibrational periods as those
in the key circuits at the sending end. When any one of the keys
is manipulated the currents sent into the line have such a pulsatory
character that they only affect the receiver, which is capable of
vibrating freely in unison with these pulsatiotifl. When a number
©f keys are manipulated at the same time the receivers analyse the
resultant wave, each picking out its own component, thus separ-
ating the different messages. The "harmonic telegraph" of Mr
Elish.'i Cray of Americans a good example of this class.
Cor.. tVoTkin/j of Sui»nariiie Cables. — The arrangement of the apparatus
oexioDB. for workiog some of the mostrecent cables is shown in fi^. 29. The
cable is supposed to be worked duplex ; but, if S, Cj, Cj, and AC
are removed and the key connected directly with Cg, the arrange,
ment for simplex working is obtained. The apparatus consists of a
sending battery B, a reversing transmitting key K, a slide of small
CoUe
resistance y, three condensers C,, Cj, C3, an artificial cable AC, the
receiving instruments I and G, and one or more resistances R for
adjusting- the leakage current. The peculiar construction of AC
has been already refen-ed to. The conductor of the cable is practi-
cally insulated, as the condensers in the bridge have a very high
resistance ; hence no appreciable current ever flows into or out of.
the line. Two
receiving in-
struments, a
siphon re-
corder and a
mirror galva-
nometer, are
shown ; one
only is abso--
lutely neces- -^
sary, but it ~
is convenient
to have the
I
Fig. 29
1 TA. Joum.y September 1686.
a For a description, sec Fre.scott'3 Electric TeUgraph, p. flfiS.
» Preece, Jmirn, Soc. Tel En)., vol •-. p. Ml.
galvanometer ready, so that in case of accident to the recorder it
may be at once switched into circuit by the switch s. When one
of the levers of K is depressed, the condenser C, and the cable,
and the condenser Cn and the artificial cable, are simultaneously
charged in series , but, if the capacity of C, bears the same pro-
portion to the capacity of the cable as the capacity of Oj hears to-
the capacity of the artificial cable, and if the other adjustments,
are properly made, no charge will be communicated to C3.- After
a very short interval of time, the length of which depends on the
inductive retardation of the cable, the condensers corresponding to
C, and C3 at the other end begin to be charged from the cable, and
since the charge of C3 passes through the receiving instrument I or
G the signal is recorded. The charging of C, at the receiving end
will take place, no matter what is the absolute potential of the
condensers, consequently the incoming signals are not affected by
those which are being transmitted from that end. In actual prac-
tice the receiving instrument is so sensitive that the difference of
potential between the two coatings of the condenser C, produced
by the incoming signal is only a very small traction of the potential
of the battery B. When the key is relieved the condensers ond
cables at once begin to return to zero potential, and if the key is.
depressed and relieved several times in rapid succession the cable
is divided into sections of varjdng potential, which travel rapidly
towards the receiving end, and indicate their arrival there by pro-
ducing corresponding fluctuations in the charge of the condenser C3.
All cables of any great length are worked by reverse cm-rents, the
single needle alphabet being used ; that is to say, currents in one
direction indicate dots and in the other direction dashes.
The following descriptions of the mirror galvanometer and the
siphon recorder are, with some slight alteration, taken from a k'S^urc
delivered by Sir W. Thomson before the Institution of Engineers
and Shipbuilders in Scotland.*
(1) The instrument first used for receiving signals through a long M..ror
submarine cable (the short-lived 1858 Atlantic cable) was the mirror gah:-ro
galvanometer,' which consisted of a small mirror with four light meter.
magnets attached to its back (weighing in all less than half a grain),
suspended by means of a single silk fibre within the hollow of a in
bobbin of fine wire, — a suitable controlling magnet being placed T^l
adjacent to the apparatus. The action of the instrument is as
follows. On the passage of a current of electricity through the fine
wire coil the suspended magnets with the mirror attached tend to
take up a position at right angles to the plane of the coil, and are
deflected to one side or the other according as the current is in one
direction or the other. Deflexions to one side are interpreted as
dots and to the other side as dashes, and the messages are trans-
mitted in accordance with the international Morse code of signals.
(2) The spark recorder in some respects foreshadowed the mor* Spark
perfect instrament— the siphon recorder— which was introduced recorder
some years later. Its action was as follows. To. an indicator,
suitably supported, a to-and-fro motion was given by the electro-
magnetic actions due to the electric currents constituting the
signals. The indicator was connected with a Ruhmkorff coil or
oUier equivalent apparatus, designed to cause a continual succession
of sparks to pass between the indicator and a metal plate situated
beneath it and having a plane surface parallel to its line of motion.
Over the surface of the plate and between it and the indicator
there was passed, at a regularly uniform speed, in a direction per-
pendicular to the line of motion of the ;ndicator, a material capable
of being acted on phj-sically by the sparl either through tlieir
chemical action, their heat, or their perforai.og forc«. The record
of the signals given by this instrament was an undulating line of
fine perforations or spots, and the character and succession of tbi
undulations were used to interpret the signahi de.sired to be sent.
(3) The latest form of receiving instrument for long submarine Siphon
cables is the siphon recorder, for which Sir W. Thomson obtained recerdei.
* See bi9 Mathematical and Physical Pa]>e)-s, voL ii. p. 168. |
1 For a description of tlic mirrov galraacmeler. see art GiLViiiOMETEB, voir
X. p. SO sq.
TELEGRAPH
125
his firyt"|v)init iii ISiJ?. Vulnn iho three succeeding yeai-s greal
inipioveiiienU were clCticd on it, nml tlic instmnieut lias since
tlwt 'tato been exclusively emitloyctl lit working most of tlio nioro
important siibiiiarnie cables of the world, — indeed all except those
on which the mil ror galvanometer iiiclhoj is in use. ' In the siphon
iKorder (see hg 30) the indicator consists of a light rectangiUar
signal coil of fine'
Hire, suspended be-'
tween the |x>les of
two powerful elec-J
tromagnets M, M so
-IS to be free to move
about its ■ longer
axis, which is verti-
cal, ami so joined
that the Electric
signal tT* currents
through the cable
pass through it.
A fine glass siphon
tube is suspended
with ^ freedom ' to
move in only one
degree, and is con-
nected with the sig-'
tial-coil and moves
with it. The short
leg of the siphon
tube dips into an in-
sulated ink-bottle,'
so that the ink
it contains becomes _ _
electrified, while the ■ /lo. 30.-Thomson3 siphon recorder,
long le" has its open" end at a very small distance from a brass
table, placed' with its surface parallel to the piane in which the
mouth of the leg moves, and over which a sUp of paper may be
passed at a uniform rate, as in the spark recorder. The ink is
electrified by a small induction electrical machine E placed on the
top of the instrument ; this causes it to fall in very minute drops
from the open end of the siphon tube upon the brass table or the
paper s^p passing over it. When therefore the signal-coil moves
in obedience to the electric signal currents passed through it, the
motion communicated to the siphon is recorded on the moving slip
of paper by a wavy line of ink-marks very close ■together. The
interpretation of the signals is according to the Morse code, — the
dot and dash being represented by dene.xioiis of the line of dots
to one side or other of the centre line of the paper. A very much
simpleT form of siphon
recorder has been de-
vised and brought into
use within the last few
yeara. Instead of the
electromagnets, -^'-.two
bundles of long bar-
magnets of square sec-
tion and made up of
square bars of glass-
hard steel are used.'
They are supported
Tertically on a cast-'
iron socket, and on the
upper end of each is
fitted a soft iron shoe,
1 shaped to concentrate
the lines of force and
thus produce a strong
magnetic field in the
spaoe within which the
sign»l-coi] is juspended
Instruments if
kind have been
made to work
both with and
without electrifi-
cation of the ink.
iVithont electrifi- ^'<>- 81--8ipl'on recorder.,
cation the instrument (see fig. 31) is very simple and compact, and
capable of doing good work on cables 600 or 600 miles long. When
constructed for electrification of the ink they are available for much
greater lengths, but for cables such as the Atlantic the original form
IS still used. The strongest magnetic field hitherto obtained by
permanent magnets (of glass-hard steel) is about 3000 C.G.S. Witn
the electromagnets used in the original form of siphon recorder a
magnetic field of about or over 5000 C.G.S. is easily obtained. Fig.
32 shows a facsimile of part of' a message received and recorded by
a siphon recorder, such as that of fig. 30, from oneo^the Eastern'
Telegraph Comnany's cables aboot 830 miles long,'
(4) The automatic cnil* .scndov was ilcsigncJ by Sji \V. Thomson Anup
for the purposo of iliinini.sliiiig tlic cMcct of iiidui;tivc enibarrass- maUe
ment ill long cables.* ,In ordin.iry hanJsciuliiig the end of llie curb
cable is put to one or the other pole of the battery and to earth sender,
alternately, tlio relative time duj'iiig which it is to b.ittcry ajul to
earth depending to a great'extcnt ontho opci-atoi.^ IJy tlio auto^
«, o e c u p I e 3 a
ix S n t 'f'\r m e d La t e )p
^ ' iFio. 32.— Facsimile of siphon Tceordcr message-
matic curb sender the cable is put to one or the other pole of the
battery and then to the reverse pole, for definite proportionate
times during each signal. The cable is tluis charged first positively
and then negatively, or vice versa, for each signal. This method
not only facilitates the discharge of the cable, and so accelerates
the return of the index of the receiving instrument to zero, but
provides the means of sending positive and negative currents into
the cable at the proper times and for the proper intervals. The
action of the instrument is regulated, like that of 'Wheatstone's
automatic transmitter, by a perforated slip of paper. The arrange-
ment of the perforations and the method of using the paper slip
are, however, quite diflerent. The paper is fed forward by a centrw
row of holes, which are therefore contmuous. The dots and dashes
of the message are represented by the side rows of holes ; but the
two currents required for a dot are produced wholly by one hole on
one side and those for a dash by one hole on the other side. The
perforated slip is exactly similar to the message written by the siphon
recorder, the side holes occupj-ing the same relative positions as the
loops to one side or other of the central line in the record. As the
side holes reach a certain point in their passage through the instru-
ment they allow the end of one or the other of two levers to fall ;
the other end of the lever lifts a light contact spring, forming one
lever of a reversing key, and makes electrical connexioir between
the battery and another set of springs, which also form the levers
of a reversing key. The spring is held up, by a flange on the edge
of a revolving wheel passing under it, during the time required bj
the paper to advance through the distance between two ceiftral
holes. During this interval the current is reversed at the proper
time by a pair of adjustable cams fixed to the same spindle as thj
flanged wheeL This method of transmission has been found quite
successful, though it Ixas not been brought into use, as hand-,
sending has hitherto proved sufficient for the work required.
Speed of SignaUing. — The mathematical theory of the speed of Speed ot
telegraphic sigualling was given in a paper on " The Theory of the signal
Electric Telegiaph" communicated by Sir W. Thomson' to thelini?.
Royal Society in 1855. He shows that, if k be the wire resistance.
e tne capacity per unit length, and I the total length of the line,
the current at the receiving end at any time t after the application
of the battery at the sending end is given by the equation
" _~ .C, = C|l-2(£-e» + €9-£'«-1-&c.)!,
where C is the maximum current which the battery Is caoable ol
t
maintaining through the line, and e is equal to (J)a when a is equal
to kcp loge (J)/ir^ The number $ is quite arbitrary ; it is chosen
because it makeTa nearly equal to the time required for the current
to become sensible at one end of the line after the battery has been
applied to the other end. The number 10", which is more con-
venient for calculation and which does not differ greatly from 3,
was subsequently adopted by Sir W. Thomson, and also bv Professor
Jenkin.' The equation may be written
- . C, = C(1 -2 (.-''"^■"'-«-'''"''^' + c--''"'^';&c. ) \-
which shows plainly how the current is affected by thejength.the
resistance, and the capacity of the line.
It is evident from this eauation that a hnite time ia repaired
after the battery has been ap^ied at the sending end for the current
to become sensible at tbe receiving end, the interval being practi*
cally equal to a, and also that for similar actions the intervals be-
tween operations for one line must be to the corresponding intervals
for anotner line directly as the values of a- or ofkcP for the two lines.
We see, therefore, that for lines of the same type, worked in tlio
same manner, the speed of working will be inversely as the square
of the len^h of the line, or, if the type varies, inversely as the
product KQ, where K is the total resistance and Q the total capacity
1 See his MatheTf&,tical and Physical Papers, vnl. U. p. 61.
" Bee Jeakln, Elictricity and Ma^nftism, p. 831.
I
126
T E L — T E L
of the line. The interval a must not be confounded with the time
required for each signal ; it is a measure of the slowness of trans-
mission ; but the number of signals which can be received in a
given time, on any one line, depends on the mf'thod of working and
on the sensibility of the instruments employed. The ratios of the
number of signals which can be sent over dilferent lines in a stated
time are the same as the ratios of the values of a for these lines.
The value of a for the different Atlantic cables varies betiveen a
fifth and a quarter of a second, and, as the time required for the
current to reach 90 per cent, of its maximum value is ten times a,
on instrument which requires as much as 90 per cent, of the fuU
current to produce a signal and a fall to 50 per cent, between the
sipTials could only receive about one signal every two seconds or
benveen one and two words per minute. The instruments actually
a^sed attain to a speed of about twenty times this ; but they are
capable of showing distinctly a current of a ten-thousandth, or
even less, of the maximum current. The value of a for ordinary
land lines is very small, probably not exceeding the five-thousandth
part of a second for a circuit 500 miles in lengtli. The current,
therefore, rises almost to its full value for each signal when the
time of contact is as small as the five-hundredth part of a second,
or, on the Wheatstoue instrument, when the speed is about 500
words per minute. There is, however, a very sensible increase in
the efiective resistance of the oircuit, especially when iron wire is
used, when signals are sent as rapidly as 100 per second, so that
higher battery power is required for fast than for slow rates of
speed. The difficulty in working land lines at rates up to 300, or
even more, words per minute is not to any serious extent electrical,
but is in great measure due to material and magnetic inertia in the
receiving instruments. Although land lines can be worked at a
very high speed when the whole of the wire is insulated on poles,
the rate is greatly diminished if a length of underground or of sub-
marine cable is included in the circuit In practice also the speed
depends greatly on the position of the cable in the circuit ; for ex-
ample, the actual speed from Onblin to London, according to Mr
Preece, is about twice as great as that from London to Dublin.
Mr Cuiley states that the greatest effect is produced when the cable
is in the middle of the circuit. (T. GB. )
TELEMETER, or Rangefindee. This is an instru-
ment used in modem warfare to determine the distance
or range to an enemy's position, in order that correct
elevations may be given to guns or rifles directed against
it. Telemeters have been made on three distinct princi-
ples, and classified as acoustic, optical, and trigonometrical
respectively.
Acmisiic telemeters record the time which elapses between
seeing the flash or smoke and hearing the report of a gun,
rifle, or shell, the range being given in yards as " the time
in seconds x 364'6." The Bouleng6 telemeter is the best
known of this class. It consists of a graduated glass
tube filled with liquid and containing a small metal tra^
veller. At the flash the instriunent is brought to a vertical
position, and the traveller starts from zero ; at the detona-
tion it is turned to a horizontal position and the traveller
stops. The objections to the acoustic telemeter are that
the rate of transmission of sound in air is affected by wind
and other local conditions and that the instrument cannot
be used until firing has commenced.
Optical or perspective telemeters determine the distance
to any point by observing the siz6 of some object of known
dimensions, as seen in a graduated telescope. Porro's
telemeter, Elliott's telescope, and Nordeufelt's macro-
meter illustrate the principle. The chief defect of the
system is that the objects most conveniently observed —
men and horses — vary considerably in size, so that the
assumption of a constant dimension may be productive
of error.
Trigonometrical telemeters shorten the ordinary methods
of surveying by adapting them to military purposes. They
are of two kinds, — field rangefinders and rangefinders for
coast batteries.
(1) Field rangefinders exist in great variety, and differ
from one another both in the trigonometricah methods pur-
sued and in the mechinical peculiarities exhibited. The
following are the cotnmon solutions of what is technically
called "the range-finding triangle,"^ — i.e., a triangle in
which O (fig. 1) is the object th^ distance to
■which is reqtiir^, AOB an acute angle, and AB
the base, — O being visible both from A anil B.
(i.) Where the base is a fixed length and the •
angles are variable. — A fixed base is rarely
adopted except *hen the base forms part of
the instrument, the angles being observed by a
powerful telescopes. The range is usually read Fig- 1-
in yards by the assistance of verniers, extreme perfection
of mechanism being necessary. Many ingenious instru-
ments of the kind have been devised, but none have as
yet proved satisfactory. With a fixed base the accuracy
diminishes as the range increases, (ii.) Where the base
end the angles are variable. — The base angles are generally
"! "Served by instruments of the theodolite type, and the
base is actually measured or found by means of a sub-base.
The range is obtained by table or calculating scale. The
Nolan rangefinder, which was the first telemeter used by
the British artillery, w.as of this kind, (iii.) .Where one
base angle is a right angle, the other angles and base being
variable." — The instrument used is generally double-reflect-
ing of the sextant type, — the base being found as in j[ji.).
The most perfect example is the Watkin rangefinder, used
Flo. 2. — Watkin field rangefinder.
by the British horse and field ar-
tillery. It (fig. 2) consists of an ''^^^'
horizon glass capable of assuming '
two positions, and an index glass
set in a steel arm, which is worked by a movable collar
on a graduated bar, and this again is moved by the turning^
of a graduated cylinder. O (fig. 3) being the o
object, the observer sets up a picket at A, and
with the instrument at zero (the horizon glass
being inclined 45' to the index glass) finds the
right angle at the point C. A sub-base AB of
6 yards is then set ofi", and (with glasses set
parallel and the sliding collar at 6) the ob-
server reflects B upon A by turning the cy-
linder, which is thus made to record the base
AC in yards. This reading being set on the
graduated bar by moving the sliding collar,
the observer proceeds to A, and from there'
reflects C upon O, which causes the range to
be given in yards on the cylinder. In this,
operation the position ef the sliding collar regulates th&-
movement of the steel bar so that the number of turns of
the cylinder is always a true measure of the range OC,
whatever the length of the base AC. (iv.) Where the
angles are fixed and the base is a measure of the range. —
The base points are determined by the use of prisms or of
mirrors reflecting the particular angles adopted. The base
is measured or found by a subsidiary triangle, and multi-
plied by a constant to giv<i the range. The Weldon range-
finder, recently issued to the British infantry, is on this
principle. It consists of three prisms, and is generally
used as follows. 0 (fig. 4) being the object and D a con-
venient distant point, the observer makes with the first
prism the right angle OAD. He then retires in the direc-
tion DA till the. second prism records the angle OBD =
Fig. 3.
T E L — T E L
127
88° 5 r 1 5", when the range = 60 x AB. If it is inconvenient
to measure AB, the observer can retire from B in the line
OB until the third prism records the
angle OCA = 74° 53' 15", when the
range = 20O x BC. The prisms must
be held in the plane of the objects
and looked into at the same point.
This rangefinder is very simple and
portable, but is frequently inappli-
cable on hilly or broken ground, and
does not possess great accuracy
The merits of different field range-
finders depend mainly upon the
balance of advantages they offer
with respect to accuracy, suitability to variety of ground,
simplicity, portability, and durability, these conditions
being of a more or less conflicting character. The fol-
lowing are recognized principlea: — (1) the naked eye
cannot with certainty appreciate less than one minute dif-
ference of angle, thefefore telescopic power is necessary
in proportion as the base is short compared with the
range ; (2) telescopes of high power cannot bo steadied
by hand alone ; (3) the longer the base the more incon-
venient are any restrictions as to its length or direction ;
(4) it is a disadvantage to be compelled to traverse the
line joining base points ; (5) the longest base which
it is convenient to measure by hand is that length of
-Weldon range-
finder.
measuring line which can be stretched tight in a high
wind.
(3) Rangefinders for Coast Batteries. — Rangefinding is '
less adapted to the requirements of coast defence than
" position finding," — a method which furnishes every gun
with its proper training and elevation so that it can be
fired without sighting the target. Rangefinders are, how-
ever, sometimes employed. The most worthy of notice is
the W'atkin depression rangefinder used by the British
artillery in coast batteries. The instrument resembles in
princii'le the Watkin field rangefinder, the height above
the sea-level being a vertical base. The range is found by
observing the angle of depression to the object. This is
done by a powerful cross- wire telescope, which forms part of
the instrument. The fastest steamer can be continuously
followed, and even the successive grazes of shot and shell
can be observed. The instrument is levelled upon a tripod
stand. When necessary, it finds its exact height in feet
above the vfater-level in any state of tide by reference to
a datura distance, and it records the range in yards auto-
matically on a graduated cylinder. An interesting con-
trivance combining telemeter and gun-sight, applicable to
guns in permanent emplacements over non-tidal waters,
has been tried in Italy. By means of a cam the hind-sight
of the gun is always maintained in the position necessary to
give the proper elevation in firing, so that it only remains
to make the sights cover the target. ' 'a. w. w.*)
TELEPHONE
TELEPHONY is the art of reproducing sounds at a
distance from their source. The term was first used
by Philip Reis of Friedrichsdorf, in a lecture delivered
before the Physical Society of Frankfort in 1861.' But,
although this lecture and Jleis's subsequent work received
considerable notice, little progress was made until ^he sub-
ject was taken up between 1874 and 1876 by Alexander
Graham Bell, a native of Edinburgh, then resident in
Boston, Mass. Bell, like Reis, employed electricity for the
reproduction of sounds ; but he attacked the problem in a
totally different manner. This will be better understood
if we consider shortly on what the chief characteristics of
sound depend (compare Acoustics).
Chat»c- The sensation of sound is produced by rapid fluctuations
t«ristua in the pressure of the atmosphere on the tympanum of the
of sound, g^^ ^ jj^g fluctuations are irregular and non- periodic,
the sound is called a noise ; if they are cyclic and follow
a regular and sufficiently rapid periodic law, the sound is
musical. In connexion with the present subject it is im-
portant to notice the three characteristics of a musical
sound, namely, pitch, loudness, and qitalitr/. The pitch of
a musical sound depends on the number of cycles passed
through by the fluctuations of the pressure per unit of
time ; the loudness depends on the amount or the ampli-
tude of the fluctuation in each cycle ; the quality depends
on the form or the nature of the fluctuation in each cycle.
The necessary condition for a successful system of tele-
phony is the ability to reproduce these characteristics.
I. History.
In 1831 Wheatstone by his "magic lyre " experiment
showed 2 that, when the sounding-boards of two musical
instruments are connected together by a rod of pine wood,
a tune played on one will be faithfully reproduced by the
other. This only answers, however, for telephoning mu-
sical sounds to short distances. Another and somewhat
' " Ueber Telephonie durch den galvanisctier oiT nj, "lii ■jCn'itishrt
i. physikalischen Vereins zu Frankjurt am itaii^ 18C0-61, p. 57
' See his ScinUific Pageri, p. 47. I
similar example is furnished by what has been variously '^'■'i >n
designated as the "string," "toy," "lov!rs,"and"mecham ^od*.''
ical " telephone. Two disks of thin metal, or two stretched
membranes, each furnished with a mouthpiece, are con-
nected together by a thin string or wire attached at each
end to the centres of the membranes. A good example
may be made with two cylindrical tin cups ; the bottoms
form the membranes and the cups the mouthpieces. When
the connecting string is held taut and sounds, such aa
those of ordinary speech, are produced in front of one of the
membranes, pulses corresponding to the fluctuations of the
atmospheric pressure are transmitted along the string and
communicated to the other membrane, which in its turn
communicates them to the air, thus reproducing? the sound.
In both these examples all the three character! itics — pitch,
relative intensity, and quality — of sound are reproduced.
Let us now return to the development of the application Page's
of electricity to telephony. In July 1837 Dr C. G. Page ^^-
of Salem, Mass., drew attention to the sound given out by "''^^S-
an electromagnet at the instant when the electric circuit ia
closed or broken, and in October of the same year he dis-
cussed, in a short article ^ entitled "Galvanic Music," tha
musical note produced by rapidly revolving the armature of
an elect. omagnat in front of the poles. Experiments bearing
on this subject were subsequently made by a great number
of investigators.' Page's discovery is of considerable im-
portance in connexion with the theory of action of various
forms of telephone, and was a very important feature in the
early attempts by Reis to transmit music and speech. On
' See Silliman's Journ., xsxii. p. 396 and xxiiii. p. 118.
; MaiTian, Phil. Mag., 3d ser., xrv. p. 382; Beatson, i4rcA. de
i'Elccl., V. p. 197 ; De la Rive, Treatise on Electricity, vol. i. p. 306,
also Phil. Mag., 3d ser., vol. xxrv. p. 422, and C<mp. Raid., xi. p.
1287, xxii. p. 432 ; Matteucci, Arch, de VAleet., v. 389 ; Guillemin,
Comp. Rend., xxii. p. 264 ; Wertheim, Comp. Raul., xxii. pp. 336,
544, xxvi. p. 505, also Ann. de Chim. ei de Phys., xxiii. p. 302, and
Phil. Mag., 3d ser., xxviii, p. 644 ; Jannair, Comp. Rend., xxiii. p.
319 ; Joule. Phi! Aiiag., 3d ser., xxv. pp. 76, 225 ; Labordc, Comp.
Rfiu^, f. •\Sy2; Poggendorff, Pogg. Ann., Ixxxvii. p. 139, xcviii.
p. JPi7S; Du Moncel, Exp. de I'Jtlect., vol. ii. p. 125, iii. p. 83; and
I Delesenne, Bibl. Univ., 1841, xvl. p. 406.
128
TELEPHONE
Boot- 26th August 1854 there appeared ia V Illustration (Pans)
"■^ ' an interestmg article by Charles Bourseul on the electric
^^^ transmission of speech.' The writer recommended the use
of a flexible plate at the source of sound, which would
vibrate in response to the varying pressure of the air, and
thu3 open and close an electric circuit, and of a similar
plate at the receiving station, which would be acted on
electromagnetically and thus give out as many pulsations
as there are breaks m the current. These suggestions
were to some extent an anticipation of the work of Reis ;
lat the conditions to Be fulfilled before the sounds given
oit at the receiving station dkn be similar in pitch,
q:;ality, and relative intensity to those produced at the
transmitting station are not stated, and do not seem to
have been appreciated.
Keis's lu Reis's lecture an apparatus was described which has
4-lephone.given rise to much discussion as to priority in the invention
of the telephone. The instrument was described in over
fifty publications ^ in various countries, and was well known
to physicists previous to Bell's introduction of the electric
telephone as a competitor with the electric telegraph.
Reis caused a -membrane to open and close an electric
circuit at 'each vibration, thus transmitting as many
tlectric pulses through the circuit as there were vibrations
in the sound. These electric pulses were made to act on
an electromagnet at the receiving station, which, in accord-
ance with Page's discovery, gave out a sound of a pitch
corresponding to the number of times it was magnetized
or demagnetized per ■' second. Reis's object was to re-
produce at a distance not only music but also human
speech ; but that he did not wholly succeed is clear from
the follo'wing extract from his lecture : " Hitherto it has
not been possible to reproduce human speech with sufficient
distinctness. The consonants are for the most part repro-
^ duced pretty d^istinctly, but not the vowels as yet in an
equal degree." Considering the time at which he wrote,
Reis seems to have understood very well the nature of the
vibrations he had to reproduce, but he failed to compre-
hend how they could be reproduced by electricity: His
fundamental i4ea — the interruption of the curren't^was
a fatal mistake, which was not at the time properly under-
stood. The suggestion of Bourseul and the experiments
of Reis are founded on the idea that a succession of currents,
corresponding in number to the successive undulations of
the pressure On the membrane of the transmitting in-
strument, could reproduce at the receiving station sounds
of the same character as , those produced at the sending
station. Neither of them seemed to respgnize anything
as important except pitch and amplitude, and Reis thought
the amplitude was to some extent obtained by the varying
length of contact in the transmitting instrument. This
might possibly be to a small extent true ; but, considering
the small capacity of the circuits He used and the nature
of bis receiving instrument, it is hardly probable that dura-
tion of contact, sensibly influenced the result. , The quality
of the sounds was to some extent also reproduced ; but,
judging from the results of recent telephone investigation,
it is highly probable that this was due, not to the varying
duration, but to the varyingfirmness of the contact. Since
the effect of the degree of contact has, through the re-
searches of Bell,, Berliner, Edison, Hughes, Elisha Gray,
and others, become generally understood, it has become
easy to make instruments very similar to those of Reis;
' See also iDii/ttsfaiiia.' Blatter f\irGfiot,Geniilh,u'Pubhcila.t, Frank-
fort, No. 232, 28th September 18^4 , Du Moncel, Expose dcs Appli-
caiions de I' £tcctncUe, Paris, vol. ii. p. 25, ed. 1854, vol. iii^p. 110,
cJ. 1856, iind Comp. /lend., 26th November 1877. _ ~
2 The English leader may consult — Jonrn. Soc. Tel. £n/^7 March
1883; British^ Assoc Jicp., 1863 ; Civ. Eng. and Arch. Joum., vol.
axvi p: 307 ; R. M.'Ferguson, Electricity, London, 1866, p. 257 ; S.
F. ThompiOOijyiilij) Bets, tht Inventor of the TeUptume, London, 1883.
and even his instruments, with alight modlficationj caa o«
made to speak fairly well. The accidental transmission
of words by Reis, the occasional recoij^iiition of the voice
of a singer, and other instances of the transmission of
quality were no doubt due to this clement, the e.'dstecce
of or the necessity for which was never, so far as the
present writer knows, hinted at by Reis.
The next worker at the telephone, and the one to whom E^^ll'. m
the present great commercial importance of the instrument ae-^rche*
is due, was BelL His aim was the production, by means
of the undulations of pressure on a membrane caused by
sound, of an electric current the strength of which should
at every instant vary directly as the pressure varied.^ His
first idea seems to have been to employ the vibrations of
the current in an electric circuit, produced by moving the
armature of an electromagnet included in the circuit nearer
to or farther from the poles of the magnet He proposed
to ma"ke the armature partake of the vibrations of the
atmosphere either by converting it into a suitable vibrator
or by controlling its vibrations by a stretched membrane
of parchment. In the. early trials the armature had the
form of a hinged lever of iron carrying a stud at one end,
which pressed against the centre of a stretched membrane.
The experiments with this form were not successful, and,
with the view of making the moving parts as light aa
possible, he substituted for the comparatively heavy lever
armature a small piece of clock spring, about the size of
a sixpence, glued to the centre of the diaphragm. The
magnet was mounted with its epd carrying the coil op-
posite, and verj' close to, the centre of the piece of clock
spring. , This answered stifficiently well to prove the
feasibility of the plan, and subsequent experiments were
directed to the discovery of the best form and arrange-
ment of the parts. An increase in the size of the iron
disk attached to the membrane augmented both the loud-
ness and the distinctness of the sounds, and this finally
led to the adoption of the thin iron disk now in use, which
is supported round its edge, and acts as both membrajie
and armature. Again, the form of the opening or mouth-
piece in front. of the membrane exercised considerable
influence on the efficiency of the instrument, and it was
ultimately ascertained that a- small central opening, with
a thin air space extending across the face of the membrant,
was best. It was also found that comparatively small
magnets were sufficient, and that there was no particular
virtue in the closed circuit and electromagnet, but that
a small permanent magnet having one pole in contact v?ith
the end of the core of a short electromagnet, the coil of
which was in circuit with the line, but which had no per-
manent current flowing through it, answered the purpose
quite as well.'' In fact the effect of keeping a permanent
current flowing through thei line and the coils of the
electrCmagnet was to keep tibe core of the electro-magnet
magnetized. This' seems 'lo have been almost simul-
taneously pointed out by fiell and others who were work-
ing in conjunction with "him and by Professor Dolbear.
Many experiments wer^ ufade for ascertaining the best
length of wire to use in the coil of the tratismitting and
the receiving- instrument ; but this is clearly a question
dependent to a large extent on the nature of the line and
the system of working adopted. .
After Bell's success a large number of experimenten
entered the field, and an almost endless variety of modi-
fications have been described. But few possess any real
merit, and almost none have any essentially new principle.'
' See A. G. Bell, "Telephone Researches," iajoum. Soc. Tel. £ng.,
31st October 1877.
- * The extreme smallness of the magnets which might be successfullj
employed was first demonstrated by Professor Peirce of Brown Uni-
versity, ProvidencQ, R I.
- * For a detailed description, in a collected form, of a large aumt>ei
TELEPHONE
129
Dolbear'
COQ-
*!eiiser
tele-
A telephone txaDsmitter and a receiver on a novel plan
were patented in July 1877 by Eklison, shortly after the
introduction of Bell's instruments. The receiver was
based oil the change of friction produced by the passage of
an electric current through the point of contact of certain
substances in relative motion. In ■ one form a drum,
mounted on an axis and covered by a band of paper
soaked' in a solution of caustic potash, is turned under a
spring the end of which is in contact through a platinum
point with the paper. The spring is attached to the centre
of a diaphragm in such a way that, when the drum is
turned, the friction between the point of the spring and
the paper deflects the diaphragm. The current from the
line is made to pass through the spring and paper to the
cylinder. Now it had been previously shown by Edison
that, when a current is made to pass through an arrange-
ment like that just described, the friction between the
paper and the spring is greatly diminished. Hence, when
the undulating telephonic currents are made to pass
through the apparatus, the constant variation of the friction
of the spring causes the deflexions of the diaphragm to
vary in unison with the variation of the electric currents,
and sounds are given out coitesponding in pitch, and also
to some extent in quality, with the sounds produced at
the transmitting station. A cylinder of chalk was used in
some of Edison's later experiments with this receiver.
The transmitter is illustrated (see fig. 10) and described
(p. 132) below.
Experiments very similar to these of Edison were made
by Elisha Gray of Boston, Mass., and described by him in
papers communicated to the American Electrical Society
in 1875 and 1S78. In these experiments the electric
current passed through the fingers of the operator's hand,
which thus took the place of the spring in Edison's ap-
paratus. The diaphragm was itself used 'as the rubbing
surface, and it was either mounted and rotated or the
fingers were m ived over it When the current passed,
the friction was felt to increase, and the eflTect of sending
a rapidly undulating current through the arrangement
was to produce a sound. The application of this apparatus
to the transnoission of music is described by Gray.^
3 In another form of telephone, brought prominently
forward by Professor Dolbear,^ the effects are produced by
electrostatic instead of electromagnetic forces, as in the
Bell telephone. Sir W. Thomson observed in 1863' that
when a condenser is charged or discharged a sharp click
is heard, and a similar observation was made by Cromwell
F. Varley, who proposed to make use of it in a telegraphic
receiving instrument.* In Dolbear's instrument one plate
of a condenser is a flexi'ole diaphragm, connected with the
telephone line in such a way that the varying electric
potential produced by the action of the transmitting tele-
phone causes an increased or diminished charge in the
condenser. This alteration of charge causes a correspond-
ing change in the mutual attraction of the plates of the
condenser ; hence the flexible plat« is made to copy the
vibrations of the diaphragm of the transmitter. It is
obvioua that this apparatus may be used either as a
ri-ansmitter or as a receiver, but that tiie effects must under
ordinary circumstances be in either case extremely feeble.
In the Reis instniments the transmitter and receiver
ITS separate parts, which are not interchangeable The
Bell telephone can be used either as a transmitter or as a
of these modifications, see Du Moncel, " Le Telephone," is BMiothique
da MareOles, Paris, 1882.
' See George B. Preacott, The Speaking Telephone, London, 1879.
pp. 151-205. .f •» .f -.
' ScieTttific Amerivm, ISth June 1S81
• Electrostatics and Magnetism, p. 236.
« See Td. Joum., 1st August 1S77, p 178 ; also Adams, Joum.
-Soe. Td. Eng., 1877, p. 476.
receiver. The Edison receiver and. the Dolbear condenser
were only intended to be used as receiving instruments. ,
It was very early recognized — and, indeed, is mentioned Liquid
in the first patents of Bell, and in a caveat filed by Elisha trans-
Gray in the United States patent office only some two '^'^!Jf
hours after Bell's application for a patent — that sounds and E.
and spoken words might be transmitted to a distance by Oray.
causing the vibrations of a diaphragm to vary the re-
sistance in the circuit. Both Bell and Gray proposed to
do this by introducing a column of liquid into the circuit,
the length or the resistance of which could be varied by
causing the vibrations of the diaphragm to vary the depth
of immersion of a light rod fixed to it and dipping into
the liquid (see figs. 8, 9 below). This idea has been per-
haps the most fruitful of any modification of telephonic
apparatus introduced.
On 4th April 1877 Mr Emile Berliner filed a caveat in B«t-
the United States patent office, in whi-h he stated that, ''"er's
on the principle of the variation with pressure of the resist- '".'"'^
ance at the contact of two conductors, he had made an traas
instrument which could be used as a telephone transmitter, mitter
and that, in consequence of the mutual forces between the
two parts of the current on the two sides of the point of
contact, the instrument was capable of acting as a receiver.
The caveat was illustrated by a sketch showing a diaphragm
with a metal patch in the centre, against which a metal
knob was lightly pressed by an adjusting screw. This seems
to have been the first transmitter in which it was proposed
to use the resistan<:e at the contact of two conductors.
Almost simultaneously with Berliner, Edison conceived Edison't
the idea of using a variable resistance transmitter.* He micro-
proposed to introduce into the circuit a cell containing P_
carbon powder, the pressure on which could be varied by mitter.
the vibrations of a diaphragm. He sometimes held the
carbon powder agamst the diaphragm in a small shallow
cell (from a quarter to half an inch in diameter and about
an eighth of an inch deep), and sometimes he used what
he describes as ^ fluff, that is, a little brush of-silk fibre
with plumbago rubbed into it. In another form the plum-
bago powder was worked into a button cemented together
with syrup and other substances. In the specification of
the patent applied for on 2 1st July 1877 he showed a
sketch of an instrument which consisted of a diaphragm,
with a small platinum patch in the centre for an electrode,
against which a hard point, made of plumbago powder
cemented together with india-rubber and vulcanized, was
pressed by a long spring, the pressure of the carbon against
the platinum disk being adjusted by a straining screw near
the base of the spring. Subsequently he filed an application
for a patent in which various forms of springs and weights
assisted in maintaining the contacts and otherwise improved
the iiutruinent.
In the early part of 1878 Professor Hughes, while en- Hughes**
gaged in experiments upon a Bell telephone in an electric micro-
circuit, discovered that a peculiar noise was produced when- P '""^
ever two hard electrodes, such as two wires, were drawn
across each other, or were made to touch each other with
a variable degree of .firmness. Acting upon this discovery,
he constructed an instrument which he called a microphone,*
and which consisted essentially (see fig. 11) of two hard
carbon electrodes placed in contact, with a current passing*
through the point of contact and a telephone included in
the same circuit. One of the electrodes was attached to
a sotmding board capable of being vibrated by sound-
waves, and the other was held either by springs or weights
' See Jmimal of the Telegraph, New York, April 1877 ; PhOaddphid
Ti-mes, 9th July 1877 ; and Scientijk American, August 1377.
^ This term was used by Wheatstone ia 1827 for an acoustic ap-
paratus intended to convert very feeble into audible sounds ; see hi*
Scientific Papers, p. 32.
XXIIL — 17
130
TELEPHONE
—C (■£
Edi 1.
traLS-
mitter.
R .Jio-
(ilione.
in delicate contact with il When the sounding board was
spoken to or subjected to souhd-waves, the mechanical re-
sistance of the loose electi*ode, duo to its weight, or the
spring, or both, served to vary the pressure at the contact,
and tiiis gave to the current a form corresponding to the
sound-waves, ana it was therefore capable of being used as
a speaking-telephone transmitter.^ The best transmitters
now in use are modifications of Hughes's apparatus. A
microphonic apparatus very similar to it is described in the
specification of a German patent taken out by Robert
Lntdge on 12th January 1878. In this patent the action
of the microphone is also described.^
, The next transmitter of note, introduced by Mr Francis
Blake, U.S. (see fig. 13 below), although it does not, like
the first microphones, embody anything intrinsically new,
is one of the most perfect and convenient forms of micro-
phone.*' It is at present almost universally used in the
United States.
It appears to be pretty well established that carbon in
one form or another is the best material for one or both
'of_,the contacts of a microphone transmitter. When both
the contacts are of carbon and the surfaces have consider-
able area, say from a quarter to half an inch in diameter,
the sounds are loud, but have a tendency to harshness.
When, as in the Blake transmitter, one of the contacts is
a piece of polished gas carbon and the other a small sphere
of platinum about the twentieth of an inch in diameter,-
the articulation is clear, but less loud. For most purposes,
however, the increased clearness more than compensates
for the diminished loudness. Many transmitters in actual
use — as, for instance, the " Gower," largely employed in
the United Kingdom — have a number of contacts. Some
of these when properly adjusted are both loud and clear
in their action. Although the Blake instrument is most
in vogue in America, in the United Kingdom and on the
Continent multiple contact microphones have found more
favour. Carbon powder instruments have been to some
extent used, and in one or two cases — as, for example, the
Runnings transmitter — with considerable success. The
fault in most of them is thfi tendency of the powder to
" pack," which causes the instrument to rapidly lose sensi-
bility. Tn the Hunnings transmitter this difficulty is to a
large extent overcome by the use of a coarse granular powder
in a somewhat large cell (about an inch in diameter and
from one-eighth to one-fourth of an inch deep). ' The front
face of the cell is a piece of platinum foil, which serves
both as an electrode and as a diaphragm. The cell is placed
either on edge or in an inclined position' when in use, the
action being precisely similar to that in other transmitters.
In addition to its freedom from packing, the carbon, in
consequence of the inclined position of the cell, is also less
liable to fall away from the electrode and break the circuit.
Some parking of the powder, however, ' does occur, and
several modifications Have been proposed by Blake and
others for making the sound vibrations stir the powder and
keep it loose G^od results appear to have been got by
placing the cell mouth down\firds, the carbon powder lying
on the platinum foil, and by forming the upjier electrode
either of wire gauze or o' a perforated plate completely
immersed in the powder The .sound vibrations are con-
veyed to the bottom of the cell by a bent tube communi-
cating with a mouthpiece. Instruments of this class are
jery loud-speaking,"and.therefore_vcry serviceable Jor_ long
or disturbed circuits.
. The radiophone is an'instrument pro^posed by A. G. Bell
and Sumner Tainter m 1880 for utilizing radiant energy
such as light or radiant heat, for the transmission of sound
The apparatus forms a telephone transmitter of a particu.
lariy interesting kind. In the earlier papers describing ''
and the experiments which led to its invention it is caUeCi
photophone, because at that time the effects were supposetr
to be wholly due to light. Afterwards, in order to avoifc''
ambiguity, Bell changed the name to radiophone and su^'
gested that, to distinguish between instruments depending;
on the different kinds of radiation, the names photophone
thermophone, &c., should be employed. He. also proposed
the name spectrophone for an application of this instrument'
to spectrum investigation.' The apparatus is founded opi
the discovery, made by Mr May while carrying out experi:-
ments on selenium for Mr Willoughby Smith, that when'-
selenium is exposed to light its electrical resistance is very
different from what it is in the dark. This discovery ledi)
to a great many interesting experiments by other investi-
gators.* In thinking over this discoveryin 1878 Bell con-^
ceived the idea that, if a beam of light proceeding from
one station could be made to fall on a selenium plate at
another station, and if Its intensity could be varied by th&
voice of a speaker, then by connecting a telephone and e.
battery in circuit -with the selenium plate the wards spoken.
at the distant station would be heard in the telephone. This-
was found to be the case. At first, to vary the intensity of
the beam, it was passed through a small opening, the width,
of which could be varied by the vibrations of a diaphragm
against which the speech was directed. But better results
were afterwards obtained when the diaphragm forjned a.
mirror from w-hich the beam of light was reflected The
spreading of the beam, duo to the vibrations of the mirror
diaphragm, served to vary its intensity (see fig. 18 below).
Edison's phonograph (.see fig. 19 below) is an instrument Eaison*
whose action somewhat resembles that of a telephone trans- p''0"<>
mitter and which has been much talked of in regard to it? ^"^ ^
possible applications in telephony. It was invented shortly
after the introduction of the telephone for the purpose of,
recording sounds, and was included in some of Edison's
telephone patents as a means of working a telephone trans^
mitter, and thus telephoning sounds which had been pre?
viously recorded on the phonograph sheets.^
11. Telephonic Instruments,
One of the best-known forms of the Reis telephone is shown iifl ■
fig. 1. The transmitter consists of a bos A, provided with a mouthf
piece M. In the
top of the box a
round hole is cut
and across it a
membrane S . of
hog's bladder is
stretched. A thin
strip of platinum
;y fj.-icd to the bo.\
at one side of the
hole and Extend-
ing to the centre
of the meinbrane, supports at that point one foot of a light meta?
tripod cgf.' One of the feet, c or/, rests in a cup containing,
mercury, which is in metallic connexion with the terminal b, whili
J^_Sec rwr'. Roy. Sic, vol. xxvii. p. 362 ;' Ptoc. I'liys. Soc, vol. ii. p,
25D ; J'litl. ./(/ny, 5th ser., vol. vi. p._44 jPreece, yuimi^oc^ri'/. Eiij.]
»ol. vii. p. 270. _
■^. Altliough this patent is' d.iled prior to""niighesTpuhlicatious, it
.does' notJoUow that the ilt;st.TiiaionoveVe_IiIed_before,these.^
\
Fio. 1.— Rcis's telephone.
^ On tills subject sec A. G. Bell, Pliil. Mag., 6th ser., vol. ji. p.
510, and Journ. Soc. Td. K'ig., vol. ix. p. 401 ; Mercadier, Fhil. Mag.^
5tli ser., vol. xi. p. 78 ; Tyudall, Proc. Roy. Soc, vol. xxxi. p. S07 ;
Routgen, Plul. Mag., 5tli ser., vol. xi. p. SOS ; Preece, Ptoc. Roy. Soc.'^
vol. xxxi. p. 50G ; R.iyleigh; Knttire, vol. xxiii. p. 274, and Prae. Ro^
Soi-., 1877; Riihicll./'/iiV. jVny., 5th ser., vol. xi. p. 302; S. P.TUomp;
son, I'liil. Mng., 5lh ser, vol. vi. p. 276.,'
* See W. Si'iiilli, Journ. Soc. Td. Eng., vol, v. p. 183, apd vol. vi. p"
423 ; U. L. Sale. Proc. Roy. Soc, vol. xxi. p. 283, and P/iil. Mng., 4tt
xor., vol. xlvii. p. 216 ; Draper .ind Moss, Proc^ Roy. Irish Acad., vol.
i. p. 529 ; Rcisse, Phil. Mng., 4lii ser, vol. xlvii. p. 161 ; W. G, Adams,
Pruc. Roy. Soc, vol. xxiii. p. 535 .and vol. xxiv. p. 163 ; W. G. Adarai-
and B. E. D.-iy, i'6n/ , vol. x^v. p. J13; Werner Siemens, Mcmatsber. kon.
J'reiiss. .\/.ail. d,r Wisscnsch. :u llirlin. 1875, p. 280, and Phil. Mag.\.
J^th. ser.*' vol. i, p._41G ; Sabine. J*/iil. Mag., 5tli ser ,vol. v. d._401.'
TELEPHONE
firs* tele
phone.
nat to wtiicti the transmitter, was subjected.
ig. 2 shows the first tekphoae made b\ BeU for transmUtinff
•oh. It consisted of a wooden frame F, to one side of which a
Bill's
MCDad
tele-
phone.
the end of the strips is similarly in eonnerion with the terminal a
rhe receiver consisW of an e!ectrom.->gaet made up of a magnetiz-
ing coiJ H, with a stout knitting needle for a core. WTien in use
^eso two instruments are joined in circuit with a battery B so
that under onimary circumstaoces a continuous current is flowinj;
tftrough the line Suppose a sound is then produced in front of
the mouthpiece M, th.j successive variations in the pressure of the
air are communicated to the inside of the bos, and cause the mem-
brano to vibrate in unison with the sound. Reis's theory of the
action of the instrument was that at each outR-ard impulse of the
membrane the point g would be thrown out of contact with the plate
uaderneala it and would thus break the circuit. There would con-
sequent!- result as many breaks in the circuit as there were vibra-
tions in the sound, and, in conformity with Page's discovers- the
electrom urnetic receiver would give out a rapid succession of Wts
which would together form a continuous sound df the same pitch
as that to which the transmitter, was subjected
• spee
tube T was fijed ; over the end
of the ttibe a membrane M was
stretched taut by a stretching ing
R. To the opposite side of the
fmrae end with its axis in lino
with that of the tube T -.vas fixed
an electromagnet H, and between
the membrane M and the end of
the electromagnet a hinged arma.
turc A was arranged in such a way
that its motions would be con-
trolled by the membrane. The
iiutrument was joined in circuit
with a battery and another simi-
tar instrument placed at a dis-
tance. A continuous current was
made to flow through the circuit,
which kept the electromagnet
magnetized Bell reasoned thus : when words are spoken in front
of the tube T the membrane will be set in vibration and with it tho
armature A and the vibration of the armature in front of the electro-
magnet will induce variations in the line current ; their maKnitudo
wiU be proportional to the amplitude, and their frequency to the
frequency, of tae vmrations of the armature ; in fact, the difference
betweea the actual and the average current in the circuit will be
at each instant proportional to the rate of motion of the armature.
It foUows .rom this that the armature and membrane-of the distant
instrument should have induced in them a motion precisely similar
to that of the membrane of the transmitter. This telephone was
made m June 1875 but was put aside after trial as unsatisfactory
on account of the feebleness of the sounds it produced : since then
however, a successful telephone has been made on precisely the
came plan as that here indicated. '
_ The next fonn tried is shown in fig. 3. It is very similar except
m constructive details to the first ; the hinged armature, however,
u omitted, its place being " '• -
taken by a small iron disk A m
fixed to the centre of the Sit
Uaphragm D. The electro- ' '■ "
131
be^
J^-.T^.l^T'f'."* mteresting, not only bccansc they may
considered the first really sucoe^ful speaking telcnhonel but bc
STIrfbvsTw Th """' '■^"H ^ "''^^ ^^^^^' 'o Grc?t Brut
S.Hnn ,/r^ ■ ^.'^°r°°' ■""* «*tibited before the British Asso-
ciation at G-lasgow m that year.
Fig 6 shows one of the earUest forms brought into commercial
"^^- 0° ^«ch pole of a somewhat large horse-sh^ pe^anenTmXl
Fio 2..
-Bell'a first telephone: ono-
Ofth full size.
magnet H is, as before, placed
so as to have the centre of
the soft iron core
C opposite to the
centre of the disk, y~~~~~i
and the theory ac- mniirvi-i^
cording to which it Fio. 3 -Bells second telephone : one-fifth fuU size
was expected to act is the same. The results obtained with this
instrument were much more satisfactory; indeed it was with one
K^^^'l^^^ that shown in the figure that the remarkable results
of the Philadelphia exhibition in 1876 were obtained. A perspec-
-.1*.? .*v"''"°''^' ^''^^ "f '^^ receiving instrument us^-d along
with that shown m fig. »■ °
3 are illustrated in figs.
4 and 6. It consisted
of an iron cylindrical
box B, through the axis
of which a rod of soft
iron C was passed to
form the core of an
electromagnet, havin»
tlie magnetizing helix
H woutid on tlie upper
half <sf its length.- Fig. 4. Fig 6
Across the top of the Pios. 4, S.-Bell's iron box receiver (1876)
box a thin disk D of ''i- *• perspective view ; fig. 5, sectional view.
soft iron was fi.N;ed, the core C being just clear of the disk when
the strongest current is flowing through the helix. In the per-
fective view the disk is removed, showing the end of the core
Fio. 6. -Bell » multiple pole telephone (1877) ; one-lifth nul size.
ITa short coil E with a soft iron core was fixed. This is one of th?
early forms ot permanent magnet telephones, of which there were
tha sh ,«n Inli"' '"^^ .ncludiDg a hand telephone very similar to.
that sh^nn m fig 7. In another form, introduced about the en*
^, .„ ■ A r^ magpetizing coils and soft iron cores were fixed"
ontne side and opposite the poles of th« horse-shoe magnet, and
Fh ,/"'' diaphragm in these telephones was of thin sheet iron
and a little over 4 inches in diameter
The form of telephone now almost universally in use is shown in
fig. 7. It was introduced in December 1877 and consists of a com
--• • iMj-j •-uusi^Ls ui a com-
magnet M, fitted into ,^Jie centre of a
pound permanent
tiibe of vulcanite
or " hard rubber "
and carrying at one
end a short electro-
magnet, the coil of
which through its
terminals t, t is in- ^j_
eluded in the cir- ^^ ^'°- 7.— Bell's hand telephone, present form.
I'l-il'^^r^i"'" instrument is in use. In front of the electromagnet,
with Its plane normal to the axis of the magnet, is fixed a thin soft
iron disk about IJ inches in diameter, whic?^has its cover cu? to a
convenient shape to form a mouthpiece. This telephone acts well
k?,'Lw "" f/^^'tter or as a recefver ; but for the former „e
tl ° A^^T V^''^ ?" «'?,''""' of tl^^ gr<=at advances which fiave
been made in microphone " transmitters.
It has been stated that BeU and Elisha Gray almost simultane-
Bell-..
hand
tele-
phone,.
Bell's
liquid
trans-
mitter.
of instrument proposed by
the former and said to
have been exhibited at the
Philadelphia exhibition is
shown in fig. 8. It con-
sists of a speaking tube
or mouthpiece M, across
the lower end of which a
membrane D is stretched.
To the centre of the mem-
brane a light rod R, made
of metal or of carbon, is
fixed with its length at
right angles to the plane
of the membrane. Under
the lower end of R a small
metallic vessel C is sup-
ported on a threaded rod,
working in a nut fixed to
the sole F, so that its heigh t
may be readily adjusted. F.g~8. Fie 9
Suppose C to be filled with F.o 8 -Bell s liquid tnnsmitter '
water or any other con- Fio 9 -Ehsha Gray s ... nd transmit ter
ducting liquid, and the rod R to be of metal. C is raised until tho
liquid just touches the point of the rod, when advantage is tnken
ot the change of contact resistance with the greater or less immer-
sion of R during the vibration of D. Good results were obtaineJ
with mercury as the liquid and with a rod of carbon
The an-angement proposed by Elisha Gray is almost identical in E G^l^■.
fJ^.Tt ^'^h ,^^ir^^ ^'l"^'""' ="™^ "> be that Gray 1^ iTqu.d '
R „rf t^' f°'J K (''^- V" "'".''' "'" '° "•= b°"°'" "f the vessel trnns
B or to the end of another rod, a prolongation of b, projecfuie un mitte-
from the bottom. The variation of the current was^prSced by
the van.^tion of the distance between the ends of the rod caused
by the vibrations of the diaphragm. This plan was not tried untQ
after the success of Bell s exiieriments was known, and when it was
132
TELEPHONE
Edison's
fciicro-
j)bone
trans-
-liuer.
tried the resnlts did not prove enconraging Indeed the vanauoDS
of the resisUnce which can be produce,! m thi3 v,ay must boexcess-
ively small, unless the liquid has a very high- specific resistance
the distance between the\nds is very small, an5 the sides of the
rods are prevented by an insulating covenng from interfering with
the results. Neither of these trausinitters has any great ment as
Bueh but they show that both Bell and Gray clearly >-ecogTiued
the principle on which successful transmission of the differeut forms
of sound, including speech, could be accomplished.
* The firat successful microphone transmitter w^ Edison s. An
early form of it (fig. 10) somewhat resem^s BeUs hand tele
primary circuit of the induction coil I to the battery B, and thence
to S again. This forms a local circuit at the transmitting stationi
The line of circuit passes through the secondiry of the mductioB
ternal form. A
•J material has at
headcdplatinura
top of G is a
powder C, on the
platinum disk
J that, forming the
a disk of ivory B, held in
ring E. Resting on the
disk is a small piece of
which is lightly pressed by
A, and this, as in the
position by themonthpiece
on A, when a sound is pro.
spending variations in the
powder, and this produces
trioal resistance. Thus,
\ eluded in an electric cir.
[ ] rent is flowing, undula-
- J diaphragm produce corre-
'^ the current
.G iu -Eli f'Jrms of the microphone
sons ■ micro. Prof. Hughes. One of
phone trans, in fig. 11. It consists of
;;; ;;rtrnguTar pieces of ■^'"^- wood, B and D, fixed to.
gethcr with their planes at right angles to each other. D forrns
tlie base, and to B two smaU blocks of carbon C, C are attached.
phone in ex
cell of insulating
its bottom a flat-
screw G ; on the
layer of carbon
top of that a thin
D, and above
cover of the cell,
position by a
centre' of this
rubber tubing,
the diaphragm
hand telephone, is held in
M, The varying pressure
duced near it, causes corre-
pressure on the carboo
Bimilar variations in its elcc-
when the instrument is in-
cuit through which a cur-
tions ill the pressure on the &,.
spending undulations in (^
Hughes's Perhaps the best known p.c
aiicro- are those introduced by
.^jhone. the commonest is showri
A of the Same
small cups formed
two electrodes e, e
poso of inserting
circuit The ma.
most suitable for
was wood- charcoal
Between these a light rod
material is supported on
in C, C. To the blocks
are connected for the pur- ^^r-,
the instrument in an electric 't "
tnrial which Hughes found *
the carbon blocks and rod
metallized by heating it to
redness and plunging it
while hot into mercury. If
this microphone is joined
in circuit with a telephone
and a small battery, say
one or tw« small Daniel!
cells, the vibration pro- _Hughcs's nncrophone.
duced by a fly walking on no. ii t f
the ba.se D can be distinctly heard la the telephone. The saine
apparatus will also act as a microphone transmitter, but the sonnds
arc apt to be harsh. A better form for this purpose is shown in
fi./ 12 In this a light pencil of carbon M A 's pivoted at h and
his one end resting on two blocks of C? carbon c. c. the
lower one being
fi.ted to the base. jj_j g#f -hliH:1J ! *i'
The pressure of M ^^ "
on the carbon block
is regulated by a l_
springs. This,_ar. Fiq. 12.— Microphone transmitter,
raneenient is en- , . , ,, 3 ■ 3- * j
closed in a box oT thin wood, against which the sound is directed.
It is capable of acting well as a transmitter, and especially in a
modified form used by Hughes as a microphone receiver The
lower block c is then attached to the centre of a vertical diaphragm
aud against it the sounds are directed.
Olake The Blake transmitter, which is perhaps most widely used 01
trans- sll, isasimple modification of the Hughes instrument last described.
..Bitter It consists (fig IS) of a frame F, to which is attached a diaphragm
D of thin sheet iron ; in front ot this is a cover M, M provided with
a suitable cavity for directing the sound-waves against the dia-
phragm- The microphonic arrangement consists of a spnng fa.
about the hundredth of an inch thick and the eighth of an inch
broad, fixed at one end to a lever L, and carrying at its. free ex-
tremity a brass block W. In one side of W a small disk C of gas
carbon is inserted, resting on the hemispherical end of a small
platinum pm K, ioout the twenrieth of an inch m diameter, held
in position by a thin spring A. The pressure of the carbon on the
platinum point can be adjusted by the screw N, which turns the
lever about the flexible joint G. The electrical connexions of the
instrument as arranged "for actual use are also illustrated in the
fgure. The current circuit goes through S, W, C, K. A, and tho
Fig- 13-— Blake's transmitter.
coil I to the lino, from that to the telephone T at the receiving
Station, and then either to earth or back to the induction coil by
a return line of wire.
Telephonic Ciraiits.
The lines used for telephone purposes are, generally speaking, Tele-
so far as erection, mode of insulation, and so on are concerned, much phoa«
the same as those used for ordinary telegraphs. In towns where wires.
a very large number of wires radiate from one centre or exchange,
as it is called, where thick wires are unsightly, and where it is
often necessary to provide for long spans, a comparatively thin wire
of strong material is employed. Tor this. reason various bronzes,
such as silicon, aluminium, &c., have come to be extensively usei'
for making wires' for telephone Unes. They are made from about
the twentieth to the thirtieth of an inch in diameter, and are found
to wear well in the somewhat mixed atmosphere of a town ; and
owing to their lightness and considerable tensile strength it is com-
naratively easy to erect them and keep them in order. The mam
objection to them is the high electrical resistance they oppose to
the cnrrent The lines on a town exchange system are not, how-
ever as a rule, so long as to make this objection of great import-
ance'. But long lines, such as those extending between towns some
miles apart, should be made of pure copper wire hard drawn. It hM
lately been found possible to draw copper so hard as to be almost
equal to bronze in strength, aud yet to retain about three times the
electric conductivity of that substance. Copper and bronze wires
possess great advantages for telephonic purposes over the iron wires
employed in telegraph Unes, in that they oB'er a much lower efi^ective
resistance to the rapidly undulating and intermittent currents pro-
duced by telephonic transmitters. The electric resistance opposed
by a wire to the passage of such 3 current is always greater than
that opposed to a steady current, and this diflferenceis much more
marked when the whe is of magnetic matenal like iron. This in-
creased resistance rises in proportion to the rapidity of the undula-
tions of the current ; consequentlv high notes are more resisted
than low notes. Besides this variable resistance, telephony has to
contend -R-ith " self.inducrion " (see Electkicitt, vol vm. p. 76
so.) of the current on itself, and this is by no means unimportant,
especially on long circuits.' The marked difl'erenco between iron
and copper for long circuits is plainly shown by the fact that
Rysselberg and others have spoken cleariy to a dist-inco of over
1000 miles through a copper wire insulated on poles, whereas Preece
could not work a similar line of iron wire between London and
Manchester. *,-« ,.
The electrostatic capacity of the" line (see TeieoRAPH, p. 115 Capacity,
above) is also diminished by the use of thin wires of highly con-
ducting materiaL They should all if possible be erected on poles
at a considerable height above the earth. It is not practicable to
work an ordinary underground line through more than 20 miles,
and cable teleiihony through distances of over 100 miles may in
the present state of science be put down as an impossibility.
Another element of great importance in connexion with telephone
1 Sec papers by Prof. Hughes, Proc Soc Ttl F.nfi.. vol. iv- p. 6, and Proo.
Jim Soc, vol, xl. p. 468. with remarks on them by Prof- H. F. Weber, Trf.
Joum.. vol- xviii- p. 821 and vol- lir. p. 80 ; by Oliver Beavlside, Phil. Hog.,
vol xxli p. 113 ; by Rayleigh, Phil. Mag., vol. irt- p- 3S1 and voL xxiL p- 409.
See also Prof. ChrjsUil on tho "Differential Telephone, ' In Tronj. Boy. iM.
Edln>., VOL n»l, pp.- 609-636.
1
TELEPHONE
13?
Xmlac- linw, which ia mo«t cases does not reqmre to be attended to ic
tioo. ordinary telegraph circuits, ia the indaction from one line to an-
other (see Electkicitt, voL viii. p, 76*7.). Wlien two liiwe baring,
AS in ordinary telegraphy, an eartti connexion at. each -cad run for
any great distance, say a mile or more, parallel to each other on
the same supports, a conversation which is being carried on through
one of them can be overheard by means of -the telephones on tho
other. This ia dne to the fact that, when a current is su^lderily
set OM in one closed circuit, it induces an instantaneous current in
any Q.ther closed circuit which is near \o it. Tliis induced current
not only destroys the privacy of the circuit in qnestion but also
lowers its efficiency. The miscbief is even greater when telegraph
and telephone lines run along the same route supported on toe
same poles, because the strong intermittent currents sent through
telegraph wires, and the irregular manner ia which the intermit-
tences follow each other, induce a series of such powerful secondary
currents in, the telephone lines that the noise heajni in the tele-
phone is often sufficient, when the line is a mile or two long, to
Hetbods drown all speech. In the case of parallel telephone lines the best,
tiT orer- if not the only, cure is to use return wires, and arrange them so that
coming the currents induced in the outgoing wire shall be neutralized by the
mdoc- -corresponding current inducea in the incoming winS For mixed
Hoa. telegraph and telephone circuits Tarious methods have been pro-
posal'. but the most. generally approved plan ia to have return
Tvires- ■ Por circuits wTjrked wholly on the return principle the main
thing-to be attended to is the symmetrical arrangement of the wires,
so that the-ontgoing and incoming wires may be subjected to the
samft. influence. This is nearly provided for by running them in
such a way that they may be all supposed to lie on the surface of a
cylinder in lines parallel to its axis, the two wires at the opposite
■ ends 'of a diameter being always used for the same circuit. When
xaore than four wires form the group complete compensation is not
obtained in this way, because tbe current is always stronger near
the transmitting end of the line than near the receiving end, on
aceountof the-very sensible effect of the capacity and the leakage of
tbe line. It is therefore best to arrange the wires in groups of four
f— that is, in 'pairs of circuits — and run them so as to form spiral
lines round an o^ial line equidistant from each of tbe four wires.
Anypair of wires forming a circuit wMch runs parallel to other
wires- can be arranged so as to be very nearly free from induction
by-iipt€Tchanging their position relatively to the other wires at &hort
distainces along the line. Care must, however; betaken, when more
than one group of four or when more than one pair are run, that
the compensation produced by the twisted arrangement of one set,
or of the interchanges of the wires in the different pairs, ia not
spoiled by the twisting or interchanging of another set or pair.
Telephone lines running parallel to telegraph lines should be formed
into one or more gronps, each being run on the twist plan 60 as to
eliminate as completely as possible the effect of the telegraph signals ;
the small residual effect of the telephone signals is of comparatively
little importance in snch a case. A ti.viste<l cable of telepnone wire
may, when each circuit is formed by diametrically opposite wires, be
placed in tbe same tube T\-ith similar cables employed for telegraph
purposes. The central wire-of the cable may be used either as a
telegraph line or as a telephono line having an *arth return..
Another' method ia to use powerful telephone traJismitters and
insensitive receivers ; that is to say, make the telephone currents
so powerful that the telegraphic induced currents will be small in.
comparison, and.nse receivers so insensitive as to suit such currents-
One of the main obstacles in the'way of this method.at7>rescnt ia
tbedifficulty of getting strong telephonic currents, for even^hebest"
tmtismitters are not yet sofficiently powerful, and there is, besides,
a decided tendency towards a loss of qu.iUty in the sound when the.
tranamitter ia made powerful A third method is to render the
tele«jraphic current comparatively harmless by taking away the
enddenncsa of the intermittences. Tliia is quite possiole because
the number of.currents sent per second, even on fast working circuits,
ian^tsuchastoprodncealjgh musical note. If, then, the currents
be made in some way to rise slowly to their full strength and fall
again slowly to zero the diaphragm of the receiving instrument, •
instead of showing the sudden rise and sndden fall as at present,
would move so slowly backwards and forwards that the car would
not be disturbed by the sound. Perhaps the simplest way to accom-
plish this is to place an electromagnet in the cii-cuit of the tele-
graph line at tne sending station, for the self-induction of the
magnet coil prevents tbe current assuming its strength suddenly.
But on telegmph circuits where speed is of great importance this
method cannot be followed owing to the retardation of the telegraph
■ignals and the consequent loss of speed thereby occasioned.
Ryssei An ingenious application of the method of compensation just
berg's indicated has been made by Rysselherg, who has used not only ^vires
•ystem. carried on the same poles as the telegraph but even the telegraph
lines themeelves for telephone purposes. The arrangement of his
system is shown in fig. 14, where L and L, represent two telegraph
lines. Between these, at each end, are inserted two condensers.
•), C, and a telephone T, together with transmitters, &,c, so that,-
fiOppoaing the tekgraph instruments rr-moved. the two wires would
V^
pressed tbe current ij
magnet E and tbe ron-
be cbarged, gi^ng in
_ static capacity at the
I The current ia still
electromagnet E' ;
ho an ordiiwxy telephone circoit work*'d through condensers. The
telegraph apparatus consists of an ordinary receiver R, sending
battery B, and key K,
together vrith a con-
denser C, inserted be-
tween tbe earth and tbe
lino terminal of tbe key,
and two electromag-
netic indactors E, E'.
When tbe key is de-
retarded by tbe electro-
denser C, which has to
fact additional electro- ^^_^
sending end of tbe line. [~^i«/o
farther retarded bytbe • Fig. 14. _ _
hence tbe condenser C, becomes cbarged eo gradualTy that very
little disturbance is noticeable in the telephone T. The condensers
C„ G, prevent leakage from one line to tbe other, but have snffi-
cient capacity to allow the telephoneto^act^^as^Jf^it^were in a
metallic circtiit.
The Working of Telephone Circuita\
Tbe method first employed fop working a telephon9"lin6 was Early
extremely simple. A single line oiwire, like an ordinary telegraph methods.,
line, liad a Bell telephone inciuuenin it at each end and tbe ends
were put to earth. Words spoken tS tbe telephone at one end could
be heard by holding the telephone to the ear at tbe other. To
obviate tbe inconvenience of placiyg the telephone to tbe month
and tbe ear alternately, two telephones were commonly used at each
end, joined either parallel to each other or in series. The con-
trivance most generally adopted for calling attention is the call bcU,
rung either by * small magneto-electric machine or by a battery.
The telephone w;as switched out of circuit when not in use and the
bell'put in its place, an ordinary key being tisod for putting the
battery in circuit to make the signal This arrangement is stiU
employed, a hook being attached to tbe switch lever so that the
mere hanging up of the telephone puts tbe beU in circuit In some
cases, when the bell is rung by i magneto machine^ the coil of the
machine is automatically cut out of circuit when it is not in action,"
but tbe turning of tbe Landle moves a centrifngal arrangement by'
"which it isthrown iiL-
M lirst it was usual to employthe same instnmient both as trans- "WorkiBg:
mitter and as receiver, and to join it in the direct circuit. But it with
was soon found that the microphone transmitter could only be used micro-
to advantage in this way when the total resistance of the circuit, phone-
exclusive of the microphone, was small compared -ivith the resistance
of the microphone, — tbaf is, on very short lines worked with low
resistance telephones. The transmitter on long and high resistance^
lines worked better by joining indirectly in a local circuit,- in the-
manner shown in fig. 13, the microphone, a battery, and tbe primary*
of an induction coil, and putting the line in circuit with the second-
ary of -the induction. <:oiJ, which acted as tbe transmitter. The
.resistance -of "the microphone can. thus be made a large fraction of
- tbe-totalTe3istance--of the- circuit in. wbichit.is placed ; hence, by
nsing-considerable^currentSr Small variations, in its resistance^ can
be made to- induct somewhat powerful currents, in the- line wiie.
The requisite energyisderived-from the battery^- 1£ there are-other
Tesistances in the circuit it 'is,. In some cases, betterio join it as-a-
"shtmt ta the- primary -circuit x>t the induction coil. It may-even,
prove-advantageous "to insert resistances in the circuit, increase the.
battery power, and join the- microphone as here indicated^ because-
in this way powerftU. currents can be obtained in tbe line-without
"the harshness "which is apt.lo^ be produced by the- variations of a
strong cnrrentr^jassing through the microphone,
TranslatioH Xrom^one line, to -another,, or from_one section to
another of the sam»liae^ia effected by patting the primary of an
induction coil in the place of the receiving telephone^ tbe secondary
being in circuit "with tbe second line or section. This plan, is use-
ful where the same message is tothe sent to diiferent places at onre
(distributed), and is sometimes used for translating:iroiir a- double,
wire to a single wire sj-stem. Probably a better- plan is. "to work a
microphone by the membrane of the-receivingtelephoner and re.
transmit the message, taking new energy from a- second battery.^
When tbe induction coil arrangement is nscd for translating Iron
a double to a single wire circuit or rice rersa,.it is neces.'viTy to
make tbe induction coil suitthO-circuits, so that either coil may
be used as primary, according to the-end Xrpm which tbe message is
sent Everything else-being similar, the Abistanccs -of "the coila
should be in. neatly the same ratio as the" resistances of tl)e linea
in which they are placed.
' In a large town it is neitherpracticahle n6r. desirable to connect E<-
each subscriber directly with- all the other subscribers, bcncc a change^,,
.system of " exchanges " h.as been adopted. An exchange is a central
station to which wirfs are broapht from the different Subscribers,
any two of whom can be put in telephonic communication with eack
wher when the proper pairs of wires are joined together in the cX'
1 See XbomsOQ aod Houston. Tel
. iMh AuKUit lars.
134
TELEPHONE
?6
Fio. 15 —Telephone e:icbSDge.
:hange. The arrangement is illustrated in fig. 15, where C represents
a:i exchange from vhich wires radiate tu the points a, b, c, d, . . .
Suppose a wishes to speak to d ; he communicates hts wish to an
attendant at C, who first ^ ^ ^ Q fj^
calls i, and theu con-
necU 6 to 1, making
the circuit continuous
from a to d. The ar-
rangeoients at the ex- * ^
change for faciliutmg
connexions vary con-
'Siderably, but are simi-
lar in principle to the
switch boards used in
telegraphy. Each of the
wires is 6rst brought to an indicator and then to a set of terminals
arranged in an orderly manner on a board, the number of the
termiual for any one wire being the same as the number under the
shutter of the indicator in that wire circuit In many cases the
terminals take the form of spring clips, which connect the line to
earth, and under which a thin piece of metal, covered with iusulal-
ing material ou one side and called a "jack," can be read.ly inserted
for connecting that circuit with any other. A piece of flexible wire
cord, carrying a jack at each end, forms a ready ana common medium
of connexion ; but in many cases the switch board is arranged with
cross strips of metal jO that by inserting a jaok into the terminals
of the two wires they can be both connected to the same strip of
metal and therefore together. In large exchanges one switch board
of moderate size is not sufficient, and so a number are fitted, being
connected together by several conductors, in order that no interrup-
tion may ensoe in consequence of these being all occupied. A line
on one boarci is connected with one on another board by joining the
Terminal of the first to one of the conductors connecting the two
boards by a jack-cord, and theu by another jack-cord connecting
that conductor to the terminal of the other line. Thus different
switch boards may be looked upon as separate exchanges, connected
together by a number of trunk wires after the manner described
below.
In a large system it is much more convenient and economical to
have exchanges in the various districts, and connect these with a
central exchange by a sufficient number of trunk lines. A sub-
scriber in one district -mshing to speak to a subscriber in another
calls the exchange in his own district and is put in communication
by the attendant stationed there with the central exchange. The
attendant at the central exchange puts the subscriber in communi-
cation wTth the district he requires, and the attendant there calls
the other subscriber and joins the two subscribers' lines together.
In some cases neighbouring district exchanges have, besides a com-
mon means of cotnmuiucation through the central exchange, an
independent coimeiion. These arrangements are diagram ma tically
Fio. 17 —Indicator or
aoDunciator.
Fig. 16.— Telephone district exchangea.
Illustrated in fig. 16, where 1, 2, 3. 4. 5, 6 represent district ex-
changes and C the central exchange ; districts 3 and 4 and 4 and
5 are supposed to have independent connexions
■^lucUir'B An arrangement was proposed about two years ago oy Mr D.
jutoniatic Sinclair of the Glasgow telej)hone exchange for allowing small dis-
c^xciiantfe. trict exchanges to be worked by the attendants at the central ex-
change.* The two exchanges are connected by a trunk line and
from the district exchange wires are led to the difterent subscribers.
These wires are in the normal state of matters connected vnlh con-
tact plates, over which an arm joined to the trunk «ire can be
made to travel. Suppose the central exchange wishes to speak to
any one of the sub-wribers, the arm i» made to travel round, by
currents sent from the exchange through an electromagnetic step
by step arrangement, until it comes in contact \rith the proper
plate, aft€r which the subscriber is CAlled in the ordinary way.
When one subscriber belonging to the district exchange wi«;hes to
speak to another in the same district, he rings the bell in the ordi-
oary way, and this operation disconnects all other subscribers and
puts him in connexion through the trunk line with the central ex-
* See Proc. Phil. Soc. o/Glaigow, voL xvii. p. ;
change The attendant there ascertains to whom it is that be
wishes to speak, and by moving round the contact arm puis tho
two subscribers' lines in contact
The indicator, or anuunciator as it is sometimes called, is shown Indicator
in fig 17. It consists of an electromagnet M, which on a current orannuD
being sent through *it pulls down the
armature a, relieves the catch c, and
allows the shutter d to fall down,
exposing a plate p. on the front of
which the number of the subscriber
is pnnted. When the exchange is
called, the shutter d is dropped, the
attendant connects the line leading
to the exchange table with the ter-
minal corresponding to the indicator, and finds who is wanted:
then he calls that subscriber, makes the through connexion, ana
puts up the shutter. When the subscribers have finished, both
call the exchange or, as it is commonly put, "ring off", this
drops both shutters and serves as the signal that they have finished
speaking.
The principle of transmitting sound by the radiophone will be fladio
understood from fig. IS. M represents a mirror, from which a phone,
beam of light is reflected through the lens / to a second mirror m,
and m forms a diaphragm against the
back of which tho sound vibrations sent
through the tube ( are made to impinge.
The beam of light, after being renecled
from "I, passes tnrough the lower lens I,
and thence as a nearly parallel beam to -/^yC^'^^ r ^i-*
the parabolic reflector R. A
photophonic receiver P, sup-
posed m this case to '^e a
spiral of selenium wire wound __
on the surface of a cylinder, ^'o- 18 —BeU'e radiophooe.
is placed at the focus of the reflector eo that the beam of light from
•m is concentrated on it. In circuit with the receiver P a battery B
and a telephone T are included and through the circuit a feeble
electric current flows continuously. The photophonic receix-er should
be placed so as to receive aa little light as possible from any other
source than the mirror m. Words spoken tnrough the tube'/ make
the mirror m vibrate, so that the beam of light reflected from it
becomes more or less spr^'ad. The lens ? is then unable to bnng
the beam into parallelism, and the intensity of the reflexions from
R to P 13 varied, therefore also the current* through the coil of the
telephone, which in consequence gives out a sound. The amount
of spreading of the beam being proportional to the intensity of th*
vibrations of m, and this again proportional to the intensity of the
sounds, the sounds heard in the telephone are similar to those pro-
duced at the end of (. Theoretically the receiver may be at any
distance from the transmitter, but considerable diflBcult)* arises if
the distance is great.
One of the simplest forms of the phonograph is shown m fig. 19. Phono-
It consists of a rigid spindle S screwed for about one-third of its graph,
length, and fitted to
work smoothly but
tightly in the frame
/, /, which is se-
curely attached to a
sole plate P. On the
spmdle a drum D is
fixed, the axis of
uhich coincides ac-
curately with that
of the spindle. On
the surface of the
drum a screw isi
cut of precisely the *"'<^- li'-Ed'soD s phonograph,
same pitch as that on the spindle. A fly-wheel W is fijced to
one end of the spindle, and is provided with a handle H, by
which the spindle and drum can be conveniently turned. One
of the bearings has either a'screw thread cut along it, or is fitted
wilh one or more stnds which work easily, but without shake. In
the screw thread. When the spindle is turned, it receives a trans-
verse motion, and a point fixea relatively to the sole plate P and
touching the drum traces out a spiral on its surface, exactly coin-
ciding with the screw thread cut on iL A mouthpiece M. like that
of a telephone transmitter, provided with a diaphragm of parch-
ment or similar substance, is mounted on a lever, which is pivoted
at h. and provided with a set screw h. A blunt needle point i«
iitber fixed to the centre ol the diaphragm or carried by a light
spring in such a way as to press on the centre of the diaphragm
with the needle point projecting outwards. To use the instrument,
the drum D is covered with a sheet of somewhat stiff tinioil, and
the mouthpiece is adjusted as shown in the fieure, with the needle
point over the hollow part of the tinfoil, and fixed by the set screw
to make a slight indentation in it The drum is then turned and
worda spoken in a somewhat loud and clear tone in front of tb*
'
T E L — T E L
135
lii«athpiec«. The ribrations of the diaphra^ cause the needle
point to make indentations more or less deep, according to the
utensitj of the sound, in the snrface of the tinfoiL If the mouth-
piece is then raised, the dram turned back to its original position, the
mouthpiece lowered so that the point resta off the groore which it
previously roads, aod the drum again tamed, the diaphragm, acted
on by the needle point passing over the indentation, will give oat
the same words which were s^ken to it (Ti GB. )
TELESCOPE
■Roger
34COIL
l>31i
Pacta.
THE telescope is an optical instrument employed to
view or discover distant objects.' The fundamental
optical principles involved in its construction have already
been dealt with in the articles Light and Optics, and
these should be first perused by the reader.
HiSTOET.
The credit of the discovery of the telescope has been a
imitful subject of discussion. Thus, because Democritus
announced that the milky way is composed of vast mul-
titudes of stars, it has been maintained that he could only
have been led to form such an opinion from actual
examination of the heavens with a telescope. Other
passages from the Greek and Latin authors have similarly
been cited to prove that the telescope was known to the
ancients. But, as has been remarked by Dr Robert Grant
{History of Physical Astronomy, p. 515), we are no more
warranted in drawing so important a conclusion from
casual remarks, however sagacious, than we should be
justified in stating that Seneca was in possession of the
liiscoveries of Newton because he predicted that comets
would one day be found to revolve in periodic orbits.
Molynenx, in his Dioptrica Nova, p. 256, declares his
opinion that Koger Bacon (who died c. 1294) "did per-
fectly well understand all kinds of optic glasses, and knew
likewise the method of combining them so as to compose
some such instrument as our telescope." He cites a
passage from Bacon's Opue Majus, p. 377 of Jebb's edition,
1733, translated as follows : —
*' Greater things than these may be performed by refracted vision.
For it is easy to understand by the canons above mentioned that
the greatest objects may appear exceedingly small, and the contrary,
also that the most remote objects may appear Jast at hand, and the
converse ; for we can give such figures to transparent bodies, and
'dispose them in such order with respect to the eye and the objects,
that the rays shall be refracted and bent towards any place we
please, so that we sh^U see the object near at hand or at any dis-
tance tmder any angle we please. And thus from an incredible
■distance we may read the smallest letters, and may number the
smallest particles of dost and sand, by reason of the greatness of
the angle nnder which we see them. . . . Thus also the sun,
moon, and stars may be made to descend hither in appearance,
and to be visible over the heads of our enemies, and many things
•of the like sort, which persons onacqoainted with such things
would refuse to believe."
Molyneux also cites from. Bacon's Epistda ad Parysiensem,
"' Of the Secrets of Art and Nature," chap. 5 : —
*• Glasses or diaphanous bodies may be so formed that the most
remote objects may appear just at hand, and the contrary, so that
we may read the smallest letters at an incredible distance, and
may number things, tnough never so small, and may make the
stars also appear as near as we please. "
These passages certainly prove that Bacon had very
nearly, if not perfectly, arrived at theoretical proof of the
possibility of constructing a telescope and a microscope ;
but his writmgs give no account of the trial of an actual
"telescope, nor any detailed results of the application of a
telescope to an examination of the heavens. It has been
pointed out by Dr Smith, in bis CompleU System of Optics,
that Bacon imagines some eflFects of telescopes which
•cannot be performed by them, and his conclusion is that
Bacon never actually looked through a telescope.
Giambattista della Porta, in his Magia Naturalis, printed
in 1 558, makes the following remarkable statement : —
* In recent years the term "photographic telescope" has been
allied to instraments employed to record the aj)pearance of celestial
»Viecte by j)hotograpb>.
** If you do but know how to join the two (viz., the concave and
the convex glasses) rightly together, you will see both remote and
near objects larger than they otherwise appear, and withal very
distinct"
Wolfius infers from this passage that its author was the
first actual constructor of a telescope, and it appears not
improbable that by happy accident Porta really did make
some primitive form of telescope which excited the wonder
of his friends. Here, however, his interest in the matter
appears to have ceased, and he was unable either to ap-
preciate the importance of his discovery or to describe the
means by which the object was attained. Kepler, who exa-
mined Porta's account of his concave and convex lenses by
desire of his patron the emperor Eudolph, declared that
it was perfectly unintelligible. Poggendorff (Gesch. der
Physii, p. 134) throws considerable doubt on the origin-
ality of Porta's statement.
Thomas Digges, in his Stratioticus, p. 359, published in Leonard.
1579, states that his father, Leonard Digges, Digges.
"among other curious practices bad a method of discovering by
perspective glasses set at due angles all objects pretty far distant
that the sun shone upon, which lay in the Country round about,"
and that this was by the help of a manuscript book of
Roger Bacon of Oxford, who he conceived was the on'y
man besides his father who knew it. There is also the
following passage in the Pantometna (bk. i. chap. 21) of
Leonard Digges ^ (originally published by his son Thomas
in 1571, and again in 1591): —
"Marvellous are the conclusions that may be performed by
glasses concave and convex, of circular and parabolic forms, using
for multiplication of beams sometime the aid of glasses transparent,
which, by fraction, should unite or dissipate the images^or figures
presented by the reflection of other."
He then describes the effects of magnification from a com-
bination of lenses or mirrors, adding :—
" But of these conclusions I minde not here to intreate, having
at large in a volume ' by itselfe opened the miraculous effects of
perspective glasses."
It is impossible to discredit the significance of these
quotations, for the works in which they occtir were pub-
lished more than twenty years before the original date
claimed for the discovery of the telescope in Holland.
That Roger Bacon had tolerably clear ideas as to the
practical possibility of constructing telescopes, and that
Leonard Digges had access to some unpublished MSS.
of Bacon, and by their aid constructed some form of tele-
scope, seem to be obvious inferences from the preceding
evidence. But it is quite certain that previous to 1600
the telescope was unknown, except possibly to individuals
who failed to see its practical importance, and who confined
its use to " curious ' practices " or to demonstrations of
" natural magic." Tie practical discovery of the instru- The
ment was certainly made in Holland about 1608, but the Djtcb
credit of the original invention has been claimed on behalf ^j ^^g"'
of three individuals, Hans - Lippershey and Zachaijas
Jansen, spectacle-makers in Middelburg, and James Metiiis
of Alkmaar (brother of Adrian Metius the mathematician).
Descartes, in his treatise on Dioptrics (1637), attributes the dis-
covery to Metius "about thirty years ago," whilst Schyrselns de
Rheita, a Capuchin friar, in his Oculus Enoch et Elite (Antwerj>,
1645), gives the credit to Lippershey about 1609. Peter Borel,
physician to the king of France, published at The HaOTe, in 1655,
a work De Vero TeUsaipii JnTenlare. He was assisted in its pre-
paration by William Borel. Dutch envoy at the court of France,
and the latter declares, as the result of patient investigation, that
' He died about 1570. His son alludes to his untimely death la
the preface to the Paniometria.
* There is no further trace of this volume.
136
TELESCOPE
«n, Jansen and his father were the rea! inventors of the telescope ia
I'JIO, zni that Lipporshey only made i telescope after hints acci-
dentally communicated to him of the details of Jansen 's invention.
But the" most trustworthy information on the subject is to be got
Vrom the researches of Van Swinden.' Briedy summarized, this
evidence is as follows. In the library of the university of Leyden,
amongst the MSS. of Huygons there is an original copy of a
document (dated 17th October 1608) addressed to the states-general
by Jacob Andrianzoon (the same individual who is called James
Mrfius Melius by Descartes), petitioning for the exclusive right of selling
an instrument of his invention by which distant objects appear
larger and more distinct. He states that he had discovered the
instrument by accident when engaged in making experiments, and
had so far perfected it that distant objects were made as visible
and distinct by his instrument as could be done with the one which
had been lately ctfered to the states by a citizen and spectacle-
maker of Middelburg. Among the Acts of the states-general pre-
served in the Government archives at The Hague, Van Swinden
found that on 2d October 1608 tho asseinbiy of the states took into
l-M'- consideration the petition of Han!> Lippershey, spectacle-maker, a
p.rshey. native of Wesel and an inhabitant of MidJelbu.'-g, inventor of an
instrument for seeing at a distance. On 4th October a committee
was appointed to test the instruroent, and on the 6th of the same
month the assembly agreed to p^vti Lippershey 900 florins for his
instrument. Further, on the 15 th December of the same year they
examined an instrument invented by Lippershey at their request
to see with both eyes, and gavi him orders to execute two similar
instruments at 900 florins each ; bat, as many other persons had
knosvledge of this new inven'ion to see at a distance, they did not
deem it expedient to grant him an exclusive privilege to sell such
instruments. The dates of these documents dispose effectually of
Eorcl's statement that Lippershey borrowed the ideas of Jansen in
1610. They also prove tlvat, whilst Metius was in possession of a
telescope, with which he may have experimented, aoout the time
when Lippershey preseE*«d his application for. patent rights, yet
he makes no pretensio?. that Lippershey borrowed the invention
from him. The conclusion is that Lippershey was the first person
who independently invented the telescope, and at the same time
made the instrument known to the world. The common story is
that Lippershey, hap'^ning one day, whilst holding a spectacle-lens
in cither hand, to di-ect them towards the steeple of a neighbouring
churcii, was astoiii?hed, on looking through the nearer lens, to tind
that the wcather.'ock appeared nearer and more distinct. He
fitted the lenses in a tube, in order to adjust and preserve their
relative distancoi, and thus constructed his first telescope. But
loiibt may be thrown on this traditional account owing to the
further statempnt that the image of the weathercock so viewed was
seen turned ijpside down. All the original Dutch telescopes were
composed of i convex and a concave lens, and telescopes so con-
itructed do r-ot invert. The inverting telescope, composed of two
onvex lensrs, was a later invention ; stilJ it is not impossible that
ibe original, experiment was made with two convex lenses.
Tele.scopes seem to have been made in Holland in con-
siderable numbers soon after the date of their invention,
and raj'idly found their way, over Europe. Sirturus, in
kis De Telescopio (1618), states that "a Frenchman pro-
ceede<) to Milan in the month of May 1609 and ofTered
a telescope for sale to Count di Fuentes"; and Lorenzi
Pigo'na writes," under date 31st August 1609, that "Galileo
\iad been appointed lecturer at Padua for life on account
of a perspective like the one. which was sent from Flan-
ders to Cardinal Borghese." Simon Marius, the German
asUonomer, appears to have made astronomical,. observa^
tions in 1609 with a telescope which^ he procured from
Holland, and Professor Rigaud'of 0.\ford found from the
MSS. of Harriot, the mathematician, that ho had been
making astronomical observations with a Dutch telescope
Baliljo, as early as July 1609. Galileo, iu 'his A'viiciiisYSidei-eus,
states that, happening to be in. Venice about the month of
May 1609, he heard- that a Belgian lind invented a per-
spective instrument by means of M-liicli distant objects
appeared nearer and larger, and that lie_discove!'ed its
construction by considering the effects of refraction, in
his Sti'j'/i.-ttore Galileo states that he .solved the jiroblem
of the construction, of a telescojie the fir.-it niglit after his
fcturn to Padua from Venice, and made his first telescope
ncvt day by fitting a convex lens in' one e.xtreiiilty oT 'a
I'aden tube and a concavelens in the other one. A few
' S»r, Dr Moll of Utrecht, in Journ. Ro'i. Inst., Vol. i., 1831.
' Letlre d' Uomini llliistri, \i, 112, Venice. 1744.
days afterwards, .having succeeded in making a better
telescope than the first, he took it to Venice, where h©
communicated the details of his invention to the public,
and presented the instrument itself to the doge Leonardo-
Donate, sitting in full council. The senate, in return,
settled him for life in his lectureship at Padua and doubleii
his salary, which was previously 500 florins, and which
then became treble that which any of his predecessors had
enjoyed. Galileo may thus claim to have invented the
telescope independently, but not till he had heard that
others had done so. In fact tue time was rip% ; and, as
often happens in similar circumstances, only a hint was
necessary to complete the latent chain of thought. Galileo '
devoted all his time to improving and perfecting the
telescope. Knowing the theory of his mstrument, and
possessed of much practical skill, coupled with unwearied
patience, he conquered the ciificulties of grinding and
polishing the lenses, and soon succeeded in producing
telescopes of greatly increased power. His first telescope
magnified three diameters ; but he soon made instruments
which magnified eight diameters, and finally one that
magnified thirty-three diameters.^ With this last in-
strument he discovered in 1610 the satellites of Jupiter,
and soon afterwards the spots on the sun, the phases of
Venus, and the hills and valleys on the moon. He demon-
strated the rotation of the satellites of Jupiter round the
planet, and gave rough predictions of their configurations,
proved the rotation of the sun on its axis, established the
general truth of the Copernican system as compared with
that of Ptolemy, and fairly routed the fanciful dogmas of
the philosophers. These brilhant achievements, together
with the immense improvement of the instrument under
the hands of Galileo, overshadowed in a great degree the
credit due to the original discoverer, and led to the uni
versal adoption of the name of the Galilean telescope fo.
the form of tho instrument invented by Lippershey.
Kepler first explained the theory and some of the prac-Sii'.er.
tical advantages of a telescope constructed of two convex
lenses in his Catoptrics (1611). The first person who
actually constructed a telescope of this form was Father
Scheiner, who gives a description of it in his Rosa Urs-iiia
(1630). William Gascoigne was the first who practically Gas.
appreciated the chief advantages of the form of telescope coigfoe
suggested by KepJer, viz., the visibility of the image of a
distant object simultaneously with that of a small material
object placed in the common focus of the two lenses. This
led to his invention of the micrometer and his application
of telescopic sights to astronomical instruments of pre-
cision (sec^ Micrometer, vol. xvi. p. 242). But it was not
till about the middle oi' the 17tb century that Kepler's
telescope came into general use, and then, not so much
because of the advantages pointed out by Gascoigne, but
because its jield of view was much larger than in tho
Galilean telescope. The first powerful telescopes of this
construction w^re made by Huygens, after much labour, p.iy
in which he was assisted by his brother. With one of these, '
of 1 2-feet focal length, hediscovered the brightest of Saturn's
satellites (Titan) in 1665, and in 1659 he published his
Si/stevia Satuniiiim, in which was given for the first time
a true explanation of Saturn's ring, founded on observations
made with the same instrument. The sharpness of ipiage in
Kepler's telescope is very inferior to that of the Galilej^n in-
strument, so that when a high magnifying power is required
it becomes essential to increase; th'e focal length. Cassini Cassini.
discovered Saturn's fifth satellite (Rhea) in 167,2 with a
telescope of 35.fect, and. the third and fourth satellites in
'16SI With telesfcopes 'made by Campani of-.lOO and 13G
feet focal length. ■ Huygens states that hfe and his brother
^ Tliij: U>t jiowor could not be exceeded u-ith advantage iu this fornt
of tcicscopc till aflvr the iuvcntiou of the achromatic object-glass. '
TELESCOPE
137
I
made object glasses of 170 and 210 feet focal length, and
he presented one of 123 feet to the Royal Society of Lon
don. Auzout and others are said to have made telescopes
of from 300 to 600 feet focus, but it does not appear that
they were ever able to use them in practical obsei vations.
Bradley, on 27th December 1722, actually measured the
diameter of Venus with a telescope whose object-glass
had a focal length of 212^ feet In these very long tele-
scopes no tube was employed, and they were consequently
Affiai termed aerial Cekscopfs. Huygens contrived some ingenious
Ida- arrangements for directing such telescopes towards any
•™P** object visible in the heavens, — the focal adjustment and
centring of the eye-piece being preserved by a braced rod
connecting the object-glass and eyepiece. Other con-
trivances for the same purpose are described by La Hire
(Mem del'Acad , 1715) and by Hartsoeker (Miscel Berol ,
tol. i p. 261). TeJescopes of such great length were natur-
ally difficult to use, and must have taxed to the utmost the
skill and patience of the observers. One cannot but pay
a passing tribute of admiration to the mea who, with such
troublesome tools, achieved such results.
Reflect- Until Newton's discovery of the different refrangibi'.ity
leg tel* of light of different colours, it was generally supposed that
scopes, object-glasses of telescopes were subject to no other errors
than those which arose from the spherical figure of their
surfaces, -and the efforts of opticians were chiefly directed
to the ponstructioQ of lenses of other forms of curvature
Gregory James Gregory, in his Optica Promota (1663), discusses
the forms of images ot objects produced by lenses and
.mirrors, and shows that nhen the surfaces of the lenses
or mirrors are portions of sj)heres the images are curves
concave towards the objective, but if the curves of the
surfaces are conic sections the spherical aberration is cor-
rected. He was well aware of the failures of all attempts
to perfect telescopes by employing lenses of various forms
of curvature, and accordingly proposed the form of reflect
iag telescope which bears his name. - But Gregory, accord-
ing tc his own confession, had no practical skill ; he could
find no optician capable of realizing his ideas, and after
some fruitless attempts was obliged to abandon all hope of
^'ewton. bringing his telescope into practical use. Newton was the
first to construct a reflecting telescope. When in 1666 he
made his discovery of the different refrangibility of light
of different colours, he soon perceived that the faults of
the refracting telescope were duo much more to this cause
than to the spherical figure of the lenses. He over hastily
concluded from some rough experiments (Optics, bk. i pt
ii prop 3) " that all refracting substances diverged the pris-
matic colours in a constant proportion to their mean refrac-
tion "; and he drew the natural conclusion " that refraction
could not be produced without colour," and therefore " that
no improvement could be expected from the refracting tele-
scope " (Treatise on Optics, p. 1 1 2). But, having ascertained
by experiment that for all colours of light the angle of
incidence is equal to .the angle of reflexion, he turned his
attention to the construction of reflecting telescopes. After
much experiment he selected an alloy of tin and copper as
the inost suitable material for his specula, and he devised
means for grinding and polishing them He did not
attempt the formation of a parabolic figure on account of
the probable mechanical difficulties, and he had besides
satisfied himself that the chromatic and not the spherical
aberration formed the chief faults of previous telescopes.
Newton's first telescope so far realized his expectations
that be could see with its aid the satellites of Jupiter and
the horns of Venus Encouraged by this success, he made
e second telescope of 6J-inehes focal length, with a magni-
fying power of 38 diameters, which he presented to the
Oa's^ I'oyal Society of London in Decembei 1671 A third form
..Tiin of refiectinK telescope was devised i i 1672 by Cassegrain
(Journal </« S<;avan,<, 1672). No further practical advance
appears to have been made iti the design or construction of
the instrument till the year 1723, when John Hadley (best htMtj.
known as the inventor of the sextant) presented to the
Royal Society a reflecting telescope of the Newtonian con-
struction, with a metallic speculmn of 6 inches aperture
and 62| inches focal length, having eye pieces magnifying
up to 230 diameters. The instrument was examined by
Pound and Bradley, the former of whom reported upon it
in Phi. Trans , 1723, No 378, p 382. After remarking
that Newton's telescope "had lain neglected these fifty
years," they stated that Hadley had sufficiently shown " that
this noble invention does not consist in bare theory." They
compared its performance with that of the object-glass of
123 -feet focal length presented to the Royal Society by
Huygens, and found that Hadley 's reflector
"will be»r snch a charge as «o make it in.ignify the object as
many times as thelattfr uilh its due charge, and that it repiesctiis
objects as distinct, though not altogether so clear and bright. . .
Nolttithstanding this difTerence in the brightness of the objects,
ue were able ftilli this reflecting telescope to see whatever wo have
hitherto discovered with the Hugenian, particularly the transits
of Jupitci's satellites and their shadows over his disk, the black
list in Saturn's ring, and the edge of his shadow cast on his ring.
\Vc have also seen «ilh it several times the five satellites of Saturn,
in viewing of nhich thislelescopo had the advantage of the Hugenian
at the time when we compared them , ("or, being in summer, and the
Hugenian telescope being managed wiihout a tube, the Iwiligtit pre-
vented us from seeing in this some of these small objects vvhicn at the
same time we could discern witii the reflecting telescope."
Bradley and Molyneux, having been instructed by Hadley
in his methods of polishing specula, succeeded in producing
some telescopes of considerable power, one of which had a,
focal length of 8 feet, and, Molyneux having communicated
these methods to Scarlet and Hearn, two London opticians,
the manufacture of telescopes as a matter of business was
commenced by them (Smith's Optics, bk. iii. ch. 1). But
it was reserved for James Short of Edinburgh to givejaraw
practical effect to Gregorys original idea. Born at Edin-Shoit
burgh in 1710 and originally educated for the church,
Short attracted the attention of Maclaurin, professor of
mathematics at the university, who permitted him about
1732 to make use Of his rooms in the college buildings for
experiments in the construction of telescopes. In Short's
first telescopes the specula were of glass, as suggested by
Gregory, but he afterwards used metallic specula only,
and succeeded in giving to them true parabolic and elliptic
figures Short then adopted telescope-making as his pro-
fession, which he practised first in Edinburgh and after-
wards in LondoiL All Short's telescopes were of the
Gregorian form, and some of them retain even to the
present day their original high polish and sharp definition
Short died in London in 1768, having realized a consider-
able fortune by the exercise of Is profession.
The historical sequence of events now brings us to the Aehro
discovery of the achromatic telescope The first person """'"^
who succeeded in making achromatic refracting telescopes ''''^""'
seems to have been Chester Moor Hall, a. gentleman ofCh'-sier
Essex He argued that the different humours of the*^ *^*"
human eye so refract rays of light as to produce an image
on the retina which is free from colour, and he reason-
ably argued that it might be possible to produce a like
result by combining lenses composed of different refracting
media ' After devoting some time to the inquiry he
found that by combining lenses formed of different kinds
of glass the effect of the unequal refrangibility of light
was corrected; and in 1733 he succeeded in constructing
telescopes which exhibited objects free from colour. One
of these instruments of only 20-inches focal length had an
aperture of 2| inches. Hall was a man of independent
* The same arguraent was employed by Gregory more thao fifty
years previously, but bad been followed by no practical res ilt Th*
lens of the human eye is not achromatic (see Light, vol. liv p. 801).
XXIII. - IS
138
TEl. ESCOPE
means, and seems to have been careless of fame : at least |
tie took no trouble to communicate his invention to the
world At a trial in Westminster Hall about the patent
rights granted to DoLlond (Watkin v- DoUond),' Hall was
admitteid-to be the first inventor of the achromatic tele-
scope , but it was ruled by Lord Mansfield that " it was
not the person who locked his invention in his scrutoire
that ought to projt for such invention, but he who brought
Enter- .t forth for the benefit of mankind." ' In 1747 Euler com-
municated to the Berlin Academy of Sciences a memoir in
which he endeavoured to prove the possibility of correct
ing both the chromatic and the spherical aberration of 'an '
object-glass. Like Gregory and HaU, he argued that, since
the various humours of the human eye were so combined
as to produce a perfect image, it should be possible by
suitable combinations of lenses of different refracting media
to construct a perfect object-glass. Adopting a hypo-
thetical law of the dispersion of differently coloured rays of
light, he proved analytically the possibility of constructing
3n achromatic object-glass composed of lenses of gla^ and
water. But all his efforts to produce an actual object-
glass of this construction were fruitless, — a failure which
he attributed solely to the difficulty of procuring lenses
worked precisely to the requisite curves (Mem. Acad. Berlin,
1753). DoUond admitted the accuracy of Euler's analysis,
but disputed his hypothesis on the grounds that it was
purely a theoretical assumption, that the theory was
opposed to the results of Newton's expenments on the
refrangibility of light, and that it was impossible to de-
termine a physical law from analytical reasoning alone
(Phil. Trans., 1753, p. 289). In 1754 Euler communicated
to the Berlin Academy a further memoir, m which, starting
from the hypothesis that light consists of vibrations excited
in an elastic fluid by luminous bodies, and that the differ-
ence of colour of light is due to the greater or less fre-
quency of these vibrations in a given time, he deduced his
previous results. He did not doubt the accuracy of New-
ton's experiments quoted by Dollond, because he asserted
that the difference between the law deduced by Newton
and that which he assumed would not be rendered sensible
by such an experiment.'' Dollond did not reply to this
memoir, but soon afterwards he received an abstract of a
Eioseo- memoir by Klingenstierna, the Swedish mathematician and
itjerDa. astronomer, which led him to doubt the accuracy of the
results deduced by Newton on the dispersion of refracted
light. Klingenstierna showed from purely geometrical
considerations, fully appreciated '"ly Dollond, that the re-
sults of Newton's experiments could not be brought into
harmony with other universally accepted facts of refraction.
^ At a meeting of the Royal Astronomical Society held on 9th
May 1886 a legal document, signed by Chester Moor Hall, was
presented by Mr R. B. Prosser of the Patent Office to the society.
On the same occasiun Mr Ranyard made the following interesting
statement respecting HaU ■ —
"Some yeArsago very little was Ittinwn about Moor Hall. It wa.s known that,
about seven years after the patent for making achromatic object-Klasses was
(^nt£d to DolUind, his claim to the invention was disputed by other nistru-
<nent-makers, amongst them by a Mr Champness, an instrument-maker of
l^rnhill, who began to infrtn:;e the patent, allegmR that John Dollond was
cot the real inventor, and that such telescopes had been made twenty-hve
years before the granting of hii. patent by Mr Moor Halt John Dollond. to
whom the Copley medal of the Royal Society had been given for his inven.
Iron, was then <lead, and his son brousht an action for infringing the patent
Bgaiuat Champness. There is no report of the case, but the facts are referred
tn ID the reports of subsequent cases. It appears that workmen who had been
employed by Mr Moor ITall were examined, aiid proved that they had rnade
achromatic obirct^glasses as early as 17S3. Dnllond's patent was not set aside,
though the evidence with regard to the prior manufacture was accepted by
(jOTd Mansheld, who tried the case, as having been satisfactorily proved.
Mr Hall was a iiencher of tiie Inner Temple, and wns alive at ihe time of the
■iCtion. ne was a man of snme property, and is spoken of on his tnnib^t.ine
.•18 an excellent lawyer and matl emattcian. He was not a fellow of the Royal
Society, but must certainly have kno\vn of the gtft of the Cnpiey medal to
JloUond. ' It IB very curious the'conflicting evidence -i^e have to reconcile, but
•I think the balance of evidence is in favour of there having oeen a prior in-
dention of achromatic obiect-glasses before th« date of DoUond'a patent"
^ittron. TicgUUr, May 1886 ; see also the Obscrvat'^ for same date).
" OenUeman's Maguzim, 1790, part ii. p. 890.
* For a good account of this controversy, see Dr. H. Servua, Q&
r> 'e '•; P -^oh" " "7^.661110,1886.
Like a practical man, Dollond at once put his donbts to the DcJJniMt. '
test of experiment, confirmed the conclusions of Klingen-
stierna, discovered "a difference far beyond his hopes in the
refractive qualities of different kinds of glass with respeck
to their divergency of colours," and was thus rapidly led
to the construction of object-glasses in which first the
chromatic and afterwards the spherical aberration were-
corrected (Phil. Tram., 1758, p. 733).
We have thus followed somewhat minutely the history
of the gradual process by which DoUond arrived indepen-
dently at his invention of the refracting telescope, becausf
it has been asserted that he borrowed the idea from othera.
Montucla, in his Histoire cUs Matkematiques (pp. 448-449),.
gives the following footnote, communicated to him by
Lalande : —
" Ce fut Chestermonhall " (an obvious misprint for Chester Mow
Hall) "qui, vers 1750, eut I'idee des lunettes achromatiques. B
s'adressoit a Ayscough,* qui faisoit travaillir Bass. Dollond ayanlJ
eu besoin de Bass ponr un verre que demandoit le due d'Yorck,
Bass lui fit voir du crown-glass et du flint-glass. HaU donna uni
lunette i Ayscough, qui la montra i plusieura personnes ; il er
doima la construction \ Bird, qui n'en tint pas compte. Dollond
en profita. Dans le procesqu'il y eut entre Dollond et Watkin, ac
banc du roi, cela fut prouve ; mats Dollond gagna, parce qu'il etoit
le premier qui eut fait connoitre tes lunettes achromatiques. "
It is clearly established that Hall was the first inventor
of the achromatic telescope ; but Dollond did ^ot borrow
the invention from Hall without acknowledgment in the
manner suggested by Lalande. His discovery was beyond:
question an independent one. The whole history of hi?'
researches proves how fully he was aware of the condition*
necessary for the attainment of achromatism in refracting;
telescopes, and he may be well excused if be so long placed^
implicit reliance on the accuracy of experiments made by-
so illustrious a philosopher as Newton. His WTitings suffi-
ciently show that but for this confidence he would have-
arrived sooner at a discovery for which his mind was'
fully prepared. It is, besides, impossible to read Dollond'g<
memoir (PhU. Trans., 1758, p. 733) without being im-
pressed with the fact that it is a truthful account, not-
only of the successive steps by which he independently
arrived at his discovery, but also of the logical processes-
by which these steps were successively suggested to hi&
mind.
The triple object-glass, consisting of a combination of
two convex lenses of crown glass with a concave flint lens-
between them, was introduced in 1765 by Peter, son of
John Dollond, and many excellent telescopes of this kind
were made by him.
The limits of this article do not permit a further detailed
historical statement of the various steps by which the-
powers of the telescope were developed. Indeed, in its-
practical form the principle of the instrument has re-
mained unchanged from the time of the Dollonds to the
present day , and the history of its development may be
summed up as consisting not in new optical discoveries but
in utilizing new appliances for figuring and polishing, im-
proved material for specula and lenses, more refined means
of testing, and more perfect and convenient methods uf
mounting. About the year 1774 William Herschel, then w B)m-l
a teacher of music in Bath, began to occupy his leisure ""='>«'■
hours with the construction of specula, and finally devoted
himself entirely to their construction and use. In 1778
he bad selected the chef cTosuvre of some 400 specula which
he made for the celebrated instrument of 7 -feet focal
length with which his early brilliant astronomical dis-
coveries were made. In 1783 be completed his reflector of
18-[%- inches aperture and 20 -feet focus, and in 1788 his
great reflector of 4-feet aperture and 40-feet focal length.
The fame of these mstrumci.'s .vaj rapidly spread' by the.
brilliant, discoveries which their maker's genius and pers&-
* Ayacough was an optician in Ludgate Hill, LondotL
TELESCOPE
i3jr
Terance accomplished by their aid.- The reflecting telescope
lecame the only available tool of. the astronomer when
' great light grasp was requisite, as the difficulty of procuring
-iisks of glass (especially of flint glass) of suitable purity
and homogeneity limited the dimensions of the achro-
aaatic telescope. It was in vain that the French Academy
of Sciences offered prizes for perfect disks of optical flint
glass. Some of the best themists and most enterprising
glass-manufacturers exerted their utmost efforts without
succeeding in producing perfect disks of more than 3J
inches in diameter. If All the larger disks were crossed by
striae, or were otherwise deficient in the necessary homo-
geneity and purity.'
GcjnwKl. Pierre Louis Guinand,^ a' humble watchmaker* living
near Chaux de Fond in Neuchatel, Switzerland, was the
first who succeeded in making marked progress in the
manufacture of optical flint glass. ■'After making pre-
liminary experiments extending over seven years (1784-
90), and nothing daunted by their comparative want of
succfess, he erected a furnace near Les Brenets, and devoted
most of his slender earnings (then derived from making
the bells, or rather gongs, of repeating watches) to the
fulfilment of his ambition. His persistency, courage, and
self-denial recall forcibly the story of Palissy.' In 1805 he
joined -the optical establishment of Fraunhofer and Utz-
i!chneider and remained with them about nine years.
During this period extensive experiments were instituted
•Tith remarkable success. It is said that the disks for the
Dorpat refractor (9 6 inches aperture, with which the
observations of Wilhelm Struve were made) were manufac-
tured during this period, though the complete instrument
fn.. .- was not delivered till 1823. Fraunhofer had, however,
i>ohi profited so fully by the suggestions of Guinand, and had
probably also so far improved on the original methods, that
ho afterwards succeeded in producing still larger object-
glasses. After Fraunhofer's death in 1826 his successors
Merz and Mahler carried out successfully the methods
handed down to them by Guinand and Fraunhofer, and
produced some large and excellent telescopes, which are
hereafter mentioned. Meanwhile Guinand, haviBg re-
tul'ned to his native country in 1814, resumed there the
manufacture of disks of optical glass, discovered a method
of removing striae by breaking and reuniting, the portions
by heat, when the glass was in a plastic slate, and event-
ually produced perfect disks up to 18 inches in diameter.
Most of these he disposed of to Lerebours and Secretan,
opticians in Paris, by both of whom some fine object-glasses
were made.^ Guinand communicated his secrets to his
sons before his death in 1823. About 1829 Bontemps
entered into partnership with one of the sons, and another
son carried on his father's manufacture in partnership with
his mo'ther. The latter firm was succeeded by Dauget
of Soleure, whose exhibits of optical glass excited so much
attention at the London exhibition of 1851. About 1848
\'>ontemp3 joined the firm of Chance Brothers of Birming-
Lam, and thus carried the secret of Guinand's methods to'
Kngland. It is not a little remarkable that the only firms
in the world by whom large disks of optical glass have
be^n produced trace their success to information derived
more or less directly from Guinand. MM. Feil of Paris,
who are direct descendants of Guinand, and Messrs Chance
Brothers of Birmingham are at the present time the only
makers of 'Optical glass_ in disks of larger diameter than
20, inches
Instruments, ic
We now proceed to give an account of the methods and
Twiiiciples of consitruction of the various kinds of telescopes,
* f-'ee Wolf, BwtTnpKien, vol. u. p.
li/rfi'-^my, pp 14ti-7t7
301, anil Clerke, JJistory cf
and to describe in detail special typios; instruments, wnich,
owing to the work accomplished by their aid or the ptacti-
cal advances exemplified in their construe' .oa, appear rx'iX.
wotthy of record or study.
Rcfracling Tdescopt
In its simplest form the telescope consiscs oi u convex objpct- Earlv
lens capable of forming an image of a distant object anj of an eye. iorms-
lens, concave or convex, by
vhich the image so form«<i
is magnified, ■ \VTjen the
axis of Iho eye-lens coin
cides with that of titc ob-
ject-glass," and the f-cal
point of the eje.lens is oo- y j i
incident with the principal 'v _
focus of the object-lens, parallel rays incident upon the ohject-glass
will emerge from the eye-piece as parallel rays These, tailing in
turn on tlie lens of the human ' A 1
eye, are converged by it and foi m
an image on the retina.'' Fig. 1
shows the course of the rays ^
when the eye-lens is convex (or
positive), 6g. 2 when the cye-
Icns is concave (or negative) ^
The former represents Kepler's, '^' ~
the latter Lippcrshey's or the Galilean telescope. The magnifj-ing
power obviously depends on the proportion of the focal len^V* of
the object-lens to that of the eye-lens, that is,
I " ' magnifying power=F/f,
where I 13 tne focal length of the object-lens and c that of the
eye-lens.>.! Also the diameter of the pencil of parallel rays emergiug MagnUy>-
from the eye-lens is to the diameter of the object-lens inversely as ing
the magnifying power of the, telescope.*! Hence one of the best powetr.
methods of determining tho magnifying power of a telescope is to
measure the diameter of the emergent pencil of rays, after the tele-
scope has been adjusted to focus upon a star, and to divide the
diameter of the object-glass by the diameter of the emergent pencil.
If we desire to utilize all- the parallel rays which fall upon an object-
glass it is necessary that, the full pencil of emerginj^ rays should
enter the observer's eye. Assuming with Sir William Herschel
that the normal pupil of the eye distends to one-fifth of an inch
in diameter when viewing faint objects, we obtain the rule that
the minimum magnifying power which can be efiBciently employed
is five times the diameter of the object-glass expressed in inches.
The defects of the Galilean and Kepler telescopies are due to the
chromatic and spherical aberration of the simple lenses of wliicb
they are composed (see Optics, vol. xvii. p. 802 sq ). The
substitution of a positive or negative eye-piece for the simple. convex
or concave eye-lens, and of an achromatic object-glas? for the simple
object-lens, transforms these early forms into the modern achro-
matic telescope. The^alilean telescope with a concave eyc-].-U3
instead of an eye-piece still survives as the modern opera-glass, on
account ofjts shorter length, but the object-glass and eye-lers ar"-
achromatic combinations.
The principles of an achromatic combination of prisms or lensca Achro-
have been explained in Light (vol. xiv. pp. 592, 595) and further matic
developed in Optics (vol. xvii. p. 804 sq.). '' As a lens may be re- object-
garded as built up of a series of thin slices of pi-isms, divided from glass.'
each other by planes parallel to the axis of the lens, it will be seen
that, if a prism perfectly achromatic for rays of two definite wave
lengths, and approximately achromatic for all rays, can be con
structed by combining two prisms of different kinds of glass, ahf
that is required to produce an object-glass with similar small
chromatic errors is to combine a convex lens of crown glass and a
concave one of flint glass as in fig. 3, their surfaces being of such
curvatures as to form a series of imaginary prisms (such as we havo
supposed an object-glass to consist of) through any one of which .all'
kinds of light falling on the object-glass parallel to its axis will !«
refracted very neaily to a common focus F.' Accordingly any pro-j
2 lu the case of short-sighted persons the image for very distant ob-
jects (that is, for parallel rays) is fnrmed in front of the retina ; thire-
fore, to enable such persons to see distiuctly, the rays emerging from
the eye-piece mu?t be slightly divergent ; lliat is, they must enter the
eye as if they proceeded from a comp.-irativtly near object. For normal
eyes the natural a^lapt^tioD is not to focus for quite parallel rays, but
on objects at a niCMterate distance, and practically, thcrefare, most
persons do adjust the focus of a -tetescoire, for most distinct and easy
vision, so that the rays tnierge from the eye-piece very sliglilly diver-
geot. , Abnormally shofl-sighted persons require to push in thcfye-l-ns
nearer to the '^■bject-glass. and long-sighted persons to withdraw ii fromt
the adjustment emplfiyed by those of oomial piglit. It is usual. liow-|
ever, in compulatious of the magnifying pnwer of telescopes, tor th»
rays emerging from the eye-piece whe" .I'luste " r^r distinct - *'" — ■ '"^
be parallel.
140
TELESCOPE
posed objecl-glasscan bo tested as regards its optical conditions by
*' tracing a ray," i.e., calculating the point at which, after refrac-
tion through the two lenses, the ray so traced will cut their
common ajis. Forthe analytical eolutioo of this problem it
ia necessary to assunoe that tbe adjacent surfaces of the sup-
posed infinitely numerous. prisms form together some continuous
curved surface,- which practically is nearly spherical. " But the
actual differences between the curves which may be required in
certain conditions for producing a perfect lens differ so slightly
from true spherical surfaces that it is impossible by any previously
■designed mechanical process to predict whether the resulting figure
will b^'that of a sphere or some other curve very nearly that of a
sphere. The mathematician, therefore, who discusses the subject
is compelled to adopt spherical curves as the basis of his calcula-
tion. On this assumption we may then trace a ray rigidly through
any supposed object-glass as follows. Let A, B, A', B' be respectively
the points where the refracted ray produced would intersect the
optical asis after rei'raction at the fiist, second, third, and fourth
refracting surfaces respectively ; also let a be the first angle of in-
•cidence, /i and m' the refractive indexes for the crown and 6int lens
respectively for a ray of the wave-length whose course is to be
traced, r and s the first and second radii for the crown lens, r*
and s' the first and second radii for the flint. lens, a, ^, a', ^, a',
and b' auxiliary angles, d the thickness of the crown lens, of the
thickness of the ftint lens, A the distance between the Second and
third surfaces. Then for the intersect after refraction at the ticst
tiurface "^
T .
siu a = - sin a :
'M,
(A) = a-a; A=' """
"sin (A)"'"';
Jor the intersect after refractioii at the second surfaca
sin b =
A + s-d
sin (AX;
sin/)='/j.siDi ;
(B)=(A)*fl-»; B =
5 sin /3
siuCB)T
'i
for the intersect aft^r refraction at the tMrdjnrf^'
,n J «i8in (B)
8ina= -(B - r-A) — V— ;
. , 1 . ,
suia' = -^ am a ;
(A') = (B).fa'-a'rA'=!:r-r'.-^
sm (A )
for the intersect aft«T refraction at the fourth surface
sin 6' = - (A' •»-»■- if) sin'-^ ;
8in^' = A' einS';
(B') = (A')-f6'-^; B'=f-»-t'.
sinjy
■Bin(B')
'The computation is very much simplified when we consider the
angle of incidence to be very small — i.e,, the point of incidence
Tery neat tho optical axis, viz.,
r _<i -1 . » _ ^
A M ' B~A -d
y _ r' »• - 1
A'~;x'(B-A)'^ /
B'
7+M'-i:.
A'-d'
By means of these fonuulse we can compute B' (the point where
a ray, entering the first surface of the object-glass, will intersect
the optical axis) for any angle of incidence = a, when for a ray of
that wave-length the indexes of refraction are known for tlie glass'
of which the lenses are composed, if the radii of curvature of tho
lenses are also known. The most perfect object-glass would be one
in which the value of B' is the same for two rays of the two
selected wave-length«, through whatever portion of the object-glass
they may pa-ss. This, however, is a condition which cannot be-
raathematically satisfied with spherical surfaces. It is of course
possible to find values of the four unknown quantities r, s, r', and s'
such that four conditions shall be satisfied. The ordinary approxi-
mate method is to find such values of the radii that B' is the same
for rays of two different wave-lengths when the incident rays are
near the axis, and for mean rays which enter near the margin of
the lens; but of course this solution is indeterminate, and only
becoraca rigid when two radii are assumed. Thus, for any crown
lens of any radii of curvature it is possible to^find & flint lens to
aatiafy these conditions. The rigid solution becomes one of suc-
cessive approximation to such four conditions as the computer may
consider most desirable. •' Herschel advocates
satisfying the terms depending on the second
power of the aberration, Klugel that the refrac-
tions of the rays should be as Bmall as possible ;
or we may make it a condition that the second '
and third surfaces shall have the same radius, so that the'surfacea
may be cemented together. The fourth condition is of course the
desired - focal length. But for all practical purposes it is sufficient
to have placed the reader in a positioi! to test the optical condi-
tions of any combinations that may be proposed, and to refer
him to the works mentioned in the subjoined note* ; for, in fact Practical"
the construction of object-glasses on paper is of far higher interest methods
as a matliematicftl exercise than as a practical matter. By a slight of corn-
departure from the, spherical figure — a departure so minute that putation.
there are no mechanical means sufficiently delicate to measure it
with certainty — the optician may fail to realize true spherical
surfaces, and thus on the one baud miss, the fine definition which
his calculation led him to expect, or on the other hand convert
an object-glass which with spherical curves would have largo
spherical aberratioa! into one perfectly corrected in this respect.
Having, therefore, for particular kinds of glass ascertained a
good general form of object-glass, it becomes only necessary for
the optician to perform-an approximate calculation of the curva-"
litres requisite to produce correction of the chromatic aberration,'
and to trust to the process of final figuring for correction of the
final spherical and chropatic aberration. It fortunately happens
that in the rigid equations the terms which express the thick-
ness and distance apart of the lenses involve only the focal
distances of central rays, and have but a small influence on the
ratios of the aberrations of the lenses ; and, further, they aflTect
chiefly the focal length of the lens, and have a very small influence
on the chromatic aoerration. Thus in the preliminary computa-
tion the optician may neglect the thickness of the lenses and employ
the simple approximate formulse given under Optics, vol. xvii.'
p. 804 —
■ ■ ■• 1=..
llL
V
1 5/
/■"m'-I
1
F
1 1
=7V
where *~f"i ^^^ ~Z \ ^^^ ^^^ dispersive powers of the two kinds of
glass for the two rays which he desires to unite, /and/" th#-edP
responding focal lengths of the two lenses, and F the focal length '
of the combination. The focal lengths of the two lenses which
secure the conditions of achromatism having been thus computed,
the radii of curvature may be computed for either lens by the
usual formula (see Light, vol. xiv. p. 593) — ' ""
)=(.. 1,(1-1). -
In- the last expression, wtiere r and s correspond to the ranii of
curvature, the optician has an infinite range of choice. He will of
course select such a proportion of r to 5 as experi-^nce or more
elaborate calculation has s.hown to be favourable. In the form of
object-glass recommended by Sir John Hersthel, as fulfilling the
most favourable conditions for correction of a spherical abenntion
for parallel as well as nearly parallel rays, the required cuivatuies
for the exterior surfaces of the crown and the flint lens were foini'l
to vary v^ry slightly for a considerable range of the ratio of the
dispersive powers of the crown and the flint glass. 9; Assuming
fi (the mean index of refraction) to be I 542 foi ciown glass and
1 585 for flint glass, Herschel proved that, if the radii in que'%tioii
are taken to be .672 for the crown lens and \i 20 for the flint lens
(supposing tho focal length of tht dtsired combination to be 10),
wc have only to compute the radii of the secoiid and thiid sutfaces
' Enlcr. Dtoptrica. St Petcrst"irg. I7«i7-71 . Clanaul. Hem- de I'A'Oit Scttn.,
1707 ; D'Atembert, 0pU5c.. vol. iii.; lApiange, Jl/iw,c(. 7'rt«rin., in 2. p 162,«n"l
Mem. yfaid. Ikrl, 1778; SchniKit. Lehrbitch der onali/tiichen Oj'tik; Snntini,
Trorifa tlfoli Strumenti Oltici; Kliigel, fn Gilbrrfs Ann. rf PhyUk, xxxii'.,
1810, pp. 265 ?75 and 276 291 ; Herschel. PAi/. Tra»s. Itoy ^nc., 1S21, i»p. 222 267:
Llttrow. Mem. R.AS. (London), vol. lii pp 23.» 255 ; Robinenn, Mrchanical
Philosophy, art. "Telescope." vol, hi. pp. 403-514. Gans», " U^-ber di* ^cbtO-
mntiHClien Doppel Objective." in Lindcnau's Zettsrhr , (v., 1817. j-p. 345 351; anil
Gilbert's Ann. d. Phystk. lix. pp 188 1^5 . Gaiis.-i, In U-uviUes Joumnt. 1850.
i. pp. 9 43; Steml.eil Aslron tJach., xUiii., 1851. col. 225 228, liii . I8G0. C6l
305 306, and 1861, oil. 269 270; A. SKinheil. Utbtr liertchnui!) opfmhtr Can-
striLCtionen; Carl Steinlieil. Reptrtorium, in., 1867, pp. 430-4)0, and Munchen
Akad. Siti., 1W)7, ii. pp. 284-297; Steinheil /Carl A- and U. A.), GotUngKht
NachrichUn. I8fl5. pp. l3J-\4'i. 211-214.
TELESCOPE
141
hy means of the above simple formulae and the measured dispersive
and refractive power of tbo glass of the Icnsoa. (The inclhod-of
determining <«, ic, is given under Optics, voL xriL p. 800.) The
fbrin generally adopted (see 6g. 4) in the
best modem object-glasses is extremely
simple, viz., an equi-coavex crown lens
and a flint lens whose first surface has the
same radius of, curvature as the surfaices ^'^' *"
of the crown lens — this radius depending on the focal length
which it is desired to give to the object-glass. Siuce in order
to fulfil the conditions of achromatism the focal lengths of the
two len«es have to be proportional to their dispersive powers
(for the rays which it- is desii-ed to unite), and as in the two de-
I scriptions of glass in question the dispersion of flint glass for C
* to rays between F and O is very nearly twice that of crown glass,
the posterior surface of the flint lens becomes nearly a plane. The
final correction for achromatism is made, if necessary, by departing
slightly from a plane in the curvature of the last" surface of the
flint lens, and the final correction for spherical aberration in the
figuring of the surfaces. In a lecture delivered at the Koyal In-
stitution on 2d April 18S6 Sir Howard Grubb, optician, of Dublin,
said:
"A truly spherical- curve is Oie ciception, not the rule. When I tell you
that a sensible ditference in correction for spherical aberration can be made by
half an hour's polishing, correspooding probably to a didereuce in the tirst
place or decimals in radii of the curves, you will se« that it is practically not
Becessary to enter upon any calculation for spherical aberration. We know
about what form gives an approximale correction ; we adhere nearly to that,
and the rest is done by figuring of ihe surface. To illustrate what I mean.
I would be quite willing to undertake to alter the curves of the crown or flint
lens of any of my objectives by a very large quanlity, increasing one and
decreasing the other so as to still satisfy the cooditions of achromatism, but
intrcluciog theoretically a large amount of positive or negative spherical
aberration, and yet to niake out of the altered lens an object.glass perfectly
corrected for spherical aberration. ... I may remark that it is sometimes
possible to make a tietter objective by deviating from the curves which give a
true correction for sph.-rical aberration, and correcting that aberration by
Dgunng, rather than by stnclly adhering to the theoretical curves."
Colour yrhen an object-glass is designed for use as an ordinary telescope
correci it is usual to select for the rays of different colour to be united
tlon. those near C and those be-
tween F and G, since rays
of lower and higher re-
frangibility produce a com- '"
paratively faint impression
on the sense of sight. In '
such a telescope of any
eon^derable aperture the
Image of a bright star at „
focuj is surrounded by a
halo of bluish or violet- „,
coloured light, — a defect
which is nnavoidable in an e,,
object-glass composed of a
trown and flint lens on ac- ,„
connt of the irrationality
of theirspectra{LiGHT,voL ,^
zif. p. 592). There seems
to be DO doubt that difler- .,,
ent eyes are differently im-
pressed by ravs of different ..„
wave-length.' . Thns two
observers will often have -i.
different opinions -as to the
chromatic corrections of ^,
the same object-glass : the
observer whose eye is ab- •*>
normally sensitive to vio-,
let light will pronounce the »»
chromatic aberration over-
corrected in an obiect-glasa *"
which another will consider
perfect in this respect, and [
vice versa. Probably it is'
partly owing to this cause _
that the object-glasses of different makers show systematic differ-
ences in their colour correction. An exceedingly sensitive method
of testing this correction devised by Professor Stokes is given under
Optics, vol. ivii. p. 804. ■ Another method, due to Professor Hark-
lic aber- ness and -first carried out by Dr Vogel, is tUo following. Place
r»tion. behind the eye-picce a direct vision prism (c/ Optics, p. 801). The
image of a star in the field will then be converted into a narrow
•pectrum, which, if there were no chromatic aberration, would when
focused be represented by a famt coloured straight line, uniformly
Jbarp and narrow. But in an ordinary object-glass only two points
in the spectrnm can be perfectly focused simultaneously ; therefore
all its other parts'are spread out, forming a coloured band of variable
{jreadth. -If wefocus on the brightest part of the spectrum, both
"See Aboey and Fcstuii;. Bakerian Lecture, PhU. Travt., 1E8B; alsoPAolo-
irapltlc ^'c«, M,-iy ISje, p. 332.
its extreme ends become spread out into a more or less trumpet-
shaped form, enabling the observer to jiote the range of the spec-
trum over which precise defiuitton can be expected. The amount
of this extension will depend in some degree on the lorm of tha
object-glass, but mnch moia (if the achromatism is fairly well
corrected) on the irrationality of the spectra of the glass of which
the lenses are composed. If we then focus, for example, on tha
C line, we shall have the band of light contracted at C and at
auother point (probably between F and G), widening to a slightly
trumpet-shaped form below C, and markedly so above G. This
second point of greatest contraction gives the wavelength of the
ray which has the same focus as C. If the telescope has a focusing
scale, we can also measure directly in this way the ch,inge of focua
for rays of different colours. The chromatic aberration will he
best corrected for the rays of minimum focus, and this minimnm
focus should for an ordinary telescope corres[iond with the brightest
part of the spectrum, viz., with rays between D and E. A coni-
jiarison of the chromatic correction of object-glasses by different
makers is given by Dr Vogel (Monalsbctv. dcr Berliner Akad.,
April 1880), obtained in the manner just described. Thq tele-
scopes compared are —
Maker.
Otwervatory to
which liistru.
raent belongs.
Aperture of
Object.Glass,
Focal
Leugth.
No, of Aper-
tures iu Focal
Length.
Schroder
Potsdam
Berlin
m,
0-c<i3
0-207
0-243
m,
64
Srs
4 331
13-1
15-3
17-3
Fraunhofer
. Fig, 5, taken from the above-quoted paper, affords most interest-
ing information as to the colour-correction of these tliree typical
object-glasses. The curves of the diagram show the variation cf
the focal point for lay.s of different wave-lengths in the case of eacn
object-glass. It will be seen that Fraunhofer has united the rays
about C with those of wave-length 525 miUionths millimMres,
Grubb with those about wave-length 494, and Schroder about wave-
length 463. The object-glasses of Grubb and Schroder ore com-
Correc-
tioQ for
chroma-
, Fig- 5. {
posed of modem glass, -which is comparatively Colourless, whilst
Fraunhofer's glass is decidedly green in colour. The minimum focus
in Fraunhofer's telescope is placed near D (rather at wave-length
585), because the absorption of the blue and violet rays of the
spectmjn by the flint lens renders the brightest part of the spectrum
less bine than in an objective composed of modern glass by Ch.inco
or Fell, which is nearly colourless. This circumstance enabled
Fraunhofer to apply a very largo over-correction for ..colour, — that
is, to unite as perfectly as possible the red and central part of the
spectrum, and to leave the outstanding vioiet rays to be in gieat
part absorbed by the colour of the gla-ss. The colour-corrections
in the- object-glasses of Grubb and Schroder are very different in
chanctel-- In Grnbb's object-gl.-iss the minimum focus is for rays
of wave-length about 545, that of Schroder's is about wave-length
333, which appe&rs to prove that Grubb'a eye is more sensitive to
Photo-
graphic
■object-
classes.
142
Ted and Schroder's to blue light Also Grubb'3 "''rfrf^f^ ""^''■^
the red rays very closely with the brightest part °f '^^^f ^f^^;
and leaves the blue aud violet rays outstai.d.ug. S hroder on he
other hand, leaves the red rays ouUtandmg in order to luiite the
"vs between D and F more closely. The conclusion is that to
Gmbb's eve the red rays would be obtrusively prommentm
Schroder's telescope, and that he would pronounce the obje<:t-gl^^3
under corrected ; whilst Schroder's eye would find the outstanding
«°ole rays too pmminent in Grubb's telescope, and pronounce it
Tver corrected. '^Tlie absolute amount of light m tfie secondary
s^ect u.n in viewing the same object depends, "^<'7f »"/'«■ X°
the square of the aperture; therefore te escopes "f '^'f J"'" ^
have to be made of greater proportional focal length than those
of small apeTture, in%rder to dim.As'a the secondary spectrum
Fi-^Ta, ^.y. S in the diagram give the form of the spectrum of a
sta" in Schroder's telescope for various adjustments of the focus ,
6^ a" and y give the corresponding forms for Fraunhofer s tele-
Xe. Fig.";, ^presents the eyc-piece foc.used for the l"-;sh^st P"
of the speftrum ; fig. ^ when the red rays and those "^J H«/[^
simultaneously fociSed ; fig. 7 when the extreme red "ys are in
focus, the corresponding focus being a little below Uy ; fig. « when
'"'Thinl "iTscope is to be constructed for photographic purposes
the aim should be to unite, as perfectly £is possible, the Tays o^^
that portion of the spectrum which act most powerfully on the
photographic plate to V employed. This Utter point has been de-
terminedl-or the various photographic processes by Captain Abney.'
The results are sho^-n graphically in % 6 for the P™«f " P^^^^:
— ; 1 cally employed at present
TELESCOPE
Triple
object.
glasses.
in astronomical photo-
graphy.
Visual spectrum.
Agl, acid or alkaline de-
veloper.
Do., short eippsure.
AgPr, acid or ferroua citro-,
oxalate daveloper.
Do., short exposure
Orange, AgBr.
Do-, short exposure.
Green, AgBr.-
Do., short exposurer
Grey, 'AgCL
Do., abort exposure.
Agl+'AgBr + AgNOt;" -wet
plate.
^gl+AgBr, ferrous oxalate
developer.
To unite the rays near G or H the angle of the flint pnsm mnst
ie dTminished ; that is, the focal length of the f'" Uns must bo
lengthened as compared with that of an »''/.<;' •S^^^'°/i.''"ltJ
co,rstruction suited 'for eye observaHons; ^f ^.^^^ J^f °I f.t^^
photographic action can be united more petfectly than the visible
'■'^If an object-glass is composed of tliree lenses, of different Itinds
of glass it U tLoretically possible to unite three instead of t^^
points of the spectrum,. bLiSes improving th^correction for s pheri-
?al aberration."^ The most important practical ^PP 'f j °°^„f, ^"^'^
a system have been-(l) the triple °^Jf '"g'^^fj °f/„f ° °°iV™ '
(21" the application of a convex crown glass in front of an Ofdinarj
object.glaL in order to alter its chromatic correction from that
best suited for eye observations to that best suited for photograph c
observation. John Dollond's object.glass is generally described as
a „e flint lens between two crown lenses If the cro™ lenses
are of similar glass, there is no gain as to the correction of the
6econdai7 spect?um ; it becomes on y possible to correct the spher^
cat aberration more perfectly y^^f"' •t^'^'^^Pf^rSollond
object -glissos bave been made since the ^iays of John Dollond^
But the great and detrimental obtrusiveness of the second.iry
r^ctJSmTn the.large object-glasses of the P^ it^^fhs a^'e
dmiinished in no'other way.nnless very extreme focal l™?ths are
adopted, or some new kinds'of elass that -^a" ^e produced in la^ge
dis!^ ar« discovered, in which tlie irrationality of their spectra is
^^i in which also there is the necessary difference m the
1 Proc Jtoy. Soc, vol. lEuii. pp. 164-186.
relation between refractive index and disper^ve power. The cost
of « triple object -gl^as would of course be at least 60 per cent. ^
greater than that of a double object-glass ; but, on the other hand,
the extreme focal length necessary for Urge object-glasses might be
considerably reduced. Thus the cost saved by a less heavy mount-]
ing and a smaller observatory and dome might counterbalance te
some extent, if not entirely, the additional cost of .the tnple object,
class Dr Schroder has constructed for the present writer an
ixquisite triple object.glass (three different kinds of glass) 01^
3i-inches aperture and only 18-inches focal length. Its perform-
ance with its highest eye-piece of J-inch focus (power ,2) is most
admirable. It would probably be impossible to constnict larg»
telescopes approaching such short focal length, but there is no
doubt that a large triple object-glass of 10 or 12 apertures focus
would have an enormous advantage in colour correction, and prob-
ably in spherical aberration, over a double object-glass of the same
aperture and much greater focal length. One peculiarity of such
a triple ohiect-glass is that three points in the spectrum can have
tlTo Lme focus, and therefore the point of^minimum focus may lot
the be=t chromatic a'djustment not quite correspond with the focal
point for the brightest part of the spectrum ; but, obviously, the
rays of the whole visible spectrum may thus be brought to intersect
the axis much more nearly at the same point. There will probably
be a far wider adoption of the triple object-glass m the future,
especially as the greater intrinsij brilliancy of the image in short-
focus telescopes is a matter of higli importance in the spectroscopic
awl photographic processes of modem astronomy. On the subject
oFtnple object.glasses the reader U referred to an admirable paper
by Professor 0. S. Hastings (Ayncr. Journal ofScunce and ArU
for December 1879, p. 429), which exhibits the results to be got
from combinations of different existing kinds of glass.
The following table exhibits the excess of the focus for any ray
over the true focus, the unit being r^nftmi of tbe focal length, in
—I the actual results of Dr Vogers observations on three existing
object-glasses already quoted, but each reduced to comparison with
its true or minimum^ focus ;. lU- the theoretically best possible
results from a double object-glass consisting <>f ,f^ll,f' "°^„" ^.f!?
and Feil's flint 1237, as computed by Hastings ; III the theoretica
results of four different triple object-glasses, capable of practical
construction, of which details are given by Hastings.
Double Ohject-Glasses.
Fraun.
hofer.
+ 47
•t- S6
0
-I- V
+ 64
-1-171
Grubb.
-t- 61
■¥ 41
+ 8
-I- 20
+ 66
-f 226
Schro-
der.
-t-108
-H -3
-h 23
0
+ S3
+ 243
Hast-
ings.
-HS5
-H 66
-t- 41
0
+ 13
-1- 73
-H2a7
Triple Object-Glasses.
HI.
Hastings
1
HastingSiHastings
2 3
■^ 1
0
0
+ 25
0
0
Hastings
+ 2
- 53
+ 41
+ 2S
- 10
- 14
+ 2
- 22
+ 91
+ 41
- 67
-60
+ 21
- 3
- 35
+ S0
+ 2
- 10
- 4
- 3
Prof. Hastings's first condition in these computations is Ihat the
radius of curvature of none of the surfaces shall exceed one-fifteenth
of the focal length. He ^Iso neglects th.e thickness and disUnce
apart of the lenles, since these alTect chiefly the focal length, but
do not -very materially affect the difference of the foci for different
rays. The expression forthe focal length F is then
where *=i v', h", ^°' ara the .indexes of refraction for the three-
kinds of glass,ana r^, >,,-;:.- n the radii of curvaturefor the
six successive surfaces. ". Writing this in the form
^={/i'-1)A+(m"-1)B + (;i"'-1)C, _
we may call A, B, and C the curvature sums of the first, second, and
bird kntes respectively. The problem then is to fi»d. for existing
specimens of g ass, values of A,' B, and C no one of winch shall
eW 30 when ^=1, and which shall make <S> independent of the
wave-length of tte light transmitted. The resutoig values of A.;
B. and C for the first combination (marked "Hastings 1^) are/
S-47026 7-20827 - 8'35472iV -„^-,,
the curvatures are therefore very moderate and perfectly praM'cable.,
The constants for the glass of tie first and secondlenses have been^
determined by the author with great accuracy (s ^ •^"■«^- '^'''";-^<'''.
XV. p. 273). The third glass is Fraunhofer s i^int 13 (Hastings v
inisnrinted ► in his table, in Amtr. Jour., vol. xtul P- 131), tor.
wSJhe constants are given in Schumacher's Aslror. ^J^.n^.™j
filT ms If this glass can be reproduced in large disks, as no 1
doubt it could be, we have the means of making an object-glass
ve^ superior to any in existence and equally availabe for eye and
phTtogTphic observation. Such an object-glass '^^"W }.e made of
much shorter proportional focus than is usual or poi=sible in double
Ob ect-glasses, not only because of the ibsence of secondary spectrum
Walsffmmtho command s&rded over the spherical aberration ,
TELESCOPE
143
trf SIX surfaces. After satisfying the conditions of focal length,
the first power of the spherical aberration, and two conditions of
achromatism, we have still two a^-ailable arbitrary conditions, which
may be that rj=rj and '■« = »'5- If these lead to convenient forms,
as seems likely in the case in point, the whole may constitute a
cemented lens ; thus thu loss o." light at tlie interior surfaces may
be eliminated, and the 6nal perfecting of the spherical aberration
be left to the figuring of the surfaces.
Cliacge In some recent large double object-glasses, especially those of
of chro- Alvan Clark, it has been usual to leave a space between the crown
aiatic and the flint lens sufficient to atford access, through apertures in
-■onrec- the cell, for cleaning the inner crown and flint surfaces, without
Tion by risk of disturbing the lens-s and their centring.' If in fig. 3 we
•ieparat imagine the lenses to be considerably separated and through both
tag lenses trace a ray entering the crown lens parallel to and at some
'ease«. distance from the axis, we shall find that the effect of the separa-
tion is to diminish the power of the flint lens, and therefore to
change the character of the chromatic aberration. Thus an object-
glass over-corrected for colour can be improved in this respect by
increasing the distance between the lenses. It has been suggested
that a telescope can be made suitable for both eye observation and
photographic purposes if means are provided for increasing the
distance between the lenses without risk of derangin" the centring
when the telescope is to be employed for photography. But the
great change that would be necessary in such a case cannot be
brought about consistently with preservation of the perfection of
the corrections for spherical aberration.'
Vemjo Any ^bcount of the achromatic object-glass would be incomplete
Hat- without reference to the labours of the Kev, W Vernon Harcourt
c^ourt's and Prof Stokes. Experiments in the production of optical glass
phos. were instituted by the former in 183*4 ; and specimens, exhibited
phatic It the meeting of the British Association at Cambridge in 1862,
glaascs. were placed in the bands of Prof. Stokes, who determined the opti-
cal constants of the numerous specimens of glass which Harcourt
produced, and indicated from these results the direction in wliich
fresh experiments should be undertaken. It was discovered that
titanic acid extends the blue end of the spectrum more than corre-
sponds to the dispersive power of the glass, whilst boracic acid
kas the opposite effect (Report BriL Assoc, 1871, p. 38). At i
dieetmg of the British Association at Belfast in 1874 a telescope
was exhibited whose object-glass was constructed from Harcourt's
flass by Sir Howard Grubb of Dublin. The following is Prof,
tokes's complete and concise account of it.
"The original intention was to construct the objective of a phosphatic glass
containing a suitable percenta^'e of titanic acid, achromatized by a glass of
^rborate of lead. <Tbe percentage of titanic acid was so chosen that there
chonld be no irratioLality of dispersion between the titanic glass and the
•erborate.) As the curratore of the convex lens woald be rather severe if the
whole convex power were thrown into a single lens, it was intended to use
*'wo lenses of this glass, one in front and one behind, with the concave
terborate of lead plaMd between them. It was found that, provided net more
than about one-third of the convex power were thrown behind, the adjacent
turflces might be made to fit, consistently with the condition of destroj-ing
-Ihe spherical as well as the chromatic aberration. This would render it
possible to cement the glasses, and thereby protect the terborate, which was
rather liable to tarnish. At the time of Mr Harcourt's death two disks of the
^tanic glass had been prepared which it was hoped would be good enough for
employment, as also two di^ks of terborate. These were placed in Mr Grabb'a
-tiands. On polishing, one of the titanic disks was found to be too badly
-striated to be employed ; the other was pretty fair. As it would have required
^ lather sevare curvature of the tirat surface and an unusual convexity of the
\aat to throw the whole convex power into the first lens, using a mere shell of
§lad3 to protect the terborate. Professor Stokes thought it more prud*?nt to
throw abont one. sixth of the whole convex power into the third or crown
^lass lens, though at the sacriflca of an aiisoluu destruction of secondary dis-
^rsion, which by this change from the original design rai^ht be expected to be
just barely percep'.ible. Of the terborate disks, the less striated happened to
te slightly muddy, from some accident in the preparation ; bnt, as this signified
tess than the strise, Mr Grubb 3eemed it better to employ this disk. The tele-
«cope exhibited to the meeting was of about 2J-inche3 aperture and 23.inche3
focal length, and was provided with an object-glass of the ordinary kind, by
which the other could be replaced, for contrasting the performance. When the
telescope was turned on to a chimney seen against the sky or other suitable
object, and half the object-glass covered by a screen with its edge parallel to
the edges of the object, in the case of the ordinary objective vivid green and
parple were seen about the two edges, whereas with the Harcourt objective
there was barely any perceptible colour. It was not of course to be expected
that the performance of the telescope should be good, on account of the diffi.
culty of prep^n'ng glass free from strije, hut it was quite sufficient to show the
possibility of destroying the secondary colour."
An experiment to determine whether the substitution of titanic
acid for a portion of the silica in ordinary crown glass would have
an effect similar to that which had been observed in the phosphatic
series of glasses (viz., whilst soraewh^traising the dispersive power,
to produce a separation of the coloors at the blue as compared with
the red end of the spectrum, to an extent ordinarily belonging only
to glass of much higher disprsive power) was carried out by Mr
Hopkinson at the glass works of Messrs Chance of Birmingham ;
but it proved unfortunately in this combination that, whUst the
t This arrangemerttalao helps to equalize the temperatures of the lenses with
each other and with 'the outer air.
.? Qo'te recently Prot Stokes has anggested that to adapt a telescope to
other piotographic or felescoi<ic purposes at pleasure the crown lens should
»e reversible u well as cl;aiigeable as to distance with respect to th" "int.
In thu way doubtless the cbromji*^'' and spherical abeiw*^" -0-* "
^•ervad tat the two kinds of work
dispersive power was increased, as in the phosphatic glasses, the
blue «nd of the spectrum, as comp-red with the red end, was not
spread out more than in ordinary glass of like dispeisive power
{Meporl. Brit. Assoc, 1875, p. 26). 'it is to be hoped, however, that
makers of optical glass will not relax theii- efforts till astronomers
shall b« able to obtain refracting telescope;, in which the secondary
spectrum is nearly if not quite eliminated. Abbe's new optical '
glass ^ leads one to believe that this hope will soon be realized.
The addition of a convex crown lens in frout of the ordinary A third
object-glass, to diminish the colour - correction and change tlieorphoio>
minimum focus from that lor rays between D and E to that forpaphic'"
rays near G, was first made by Rutherford of New York. In this lens,
way he altered his telescope from one suited for eye observations
to one in the best chromatic adjustment for photographic work.
The chromatic effect is the same as increasing the convexity ol
the crown lens, and by proper proportioning of the two radii ol
curvature it becomes possible also to conserve, and even to furthet
perfect, the destruction of spherical aberration. The great object
glass of 36-inches aperture, now {1SS7) under construction for tho
Lick observatory by Messrs Clarke of Boston (Mass. ), is to be pro-
vided with an additional crown lens for this purpose.*
The problem of making a perfectly achromatic object-glass has Bisir's
been solved by Dr Blair (.EdtTi. Trans., vol. iiL p. 53) by employ, achro-
ing fluid media, and he actually constructed an object-glass con- matic
sisting of a plano-convex lens and a meniscus lens, both of crown fluid ob
glass with their convexities turned towards each other, the space ject-
between the lenses being filled with hydrochloric acid. L^nfortu- glasses
nately such combinations are practically useless, not only on account
of unavoidable leakage, but also because currents are set up in fluid
lenses by changes of temperature, which correspond in eH'ect with
want of homogeneity in the fiint lens in an ordinary object-glass.
Eye-Puces.
The first substitute for the single lens of the Galilean and Kepler Eye-
telescopes was the compound eye-piece invented by Rheita. Behind pieces,
the convex eye-lens of the Kepler telescope he applied a second
short telescope-, consisting of two convex lenses, their distance being
the sum of their focal lengths The principal effect was to erect
the mverted image, and thus to constitute the simplest form of ths
day eye-piece, or common terrestrial telescope. The next improve-
ment was the Huygenian eye-piece, which consists of two convex
lenses (see fig. 7),— the " field ■ lens, '' that next the object-glass,
having its focal length to that of the " eye-lens " as 3 to 1 , the
distance between them is twice the focal length of the latter, the
combination being so placed as to form the visible unage half-way
between the two. This eye-piece is acliromatic In the sense in
which an eye-piece is said to be so a colourless image seen through
it does not appear bordered with coloured fringes, as is the case with
a single lens or Rheita's eye-piece. This is not because, as in the
achromatic object-glass, all the central coloured rays are collected
in one focus, which in the case of an eye-piece is a matter of compara-
tively small consequence, but because it possesses the same magnify-
ing power for rays of all colours on an object of sensible angular
diameter, so as not to form overlapping coloured pictures of it oc
tho retina. Tliis condition it is which furnishes the " equation a
achromaticity " of an eye-piece. An expression for the magnifyinj
power of a telescope provided with a certain eye-piece is formed ij
general terms which involve the focal length of its lenses, their dis
tances from each other, and their refractive indexes ; and, this btin/
made to vary by the variation of the last-mentioned elements only
the variation is equated to zera The algebraic working, whicl
even fi r a two-glass eye-piece is a little complex, is given in H
Lloyd's Treatise on Light and Vision (London, 1831), and in ai
elaborate paper by Littrow in the fourth volume of the Trans, koy.
Astron. Soc. (p. 599). From the former we extract the following
proposidon : An eye-glass of two lenses of the same medium is
achromatic when the interval between the lenses is an arithmetical
mean between their focal len^h, — a condition which the Huygenian Huy-
construction evidently satishes. The rationale of this is obvious, genian
independently of algebraic analysis, by mspection of the course of eye.
the rays in fig. 7, where AC, BD are the lenses, PQ the image pieca.
which would be formed by the object-glass alone, pq that really
formed by the acrion of the field-glass. The object-glass being
supposed achromaric, a ray of white light, as OC, going to fo'n.
the image of a point Q, mil be refracted by the field-glass at 0
towards the corresponding point q of the new image, but not as o
s See Naturi, vol. sxxiv. p. 632, 26th October 1SS6.
• For recent literature on the secondary spectrum in double and triple object-
glasses, &c., see W. Schmidt, Die JrcOiung dts Lichta in Gtiixm, itaitstiKltn
d. achrovuit. vnd aplanat. Objedivlinse, Leipsic, 1874 ; W. Harkness, " On l^a
Colour Correction of Achromatic Telescopes," in Amer. Jour, o/ Scienu twiZ
Arts, September 1679, pp. 1S9-196 ; C. S. Hastings, "Triple Objectives with
Complete Colour Correction," ib., December 1879, pp. 425-135: Perty, Ctiter
die Greruxn d£r sichtbaren Schop/ung nach den jgtngen Lfisiungen der AJiJcrosiop*
vnd Femrdlire, Berlin, 1874 ; H. C. Vogel, Veber tine einjdc/ie MeOwde ntr Bestin-
mung der Brennpunkte und der Abtceichungskrei^ eines Fenrohr.OhJectiPS fiir
Strahlenvon verschiedtTier JSrerJibarkei: ; C. A. Young, "The Colour.Correctioa
of Certain Achromatic Object.GIasses,*" In Amer. Jour, Sci., June 1880, pp. 45*-
456 ; also a rei-iew of these papers by A. Salarik, yitrte(jahrschrifl der ostrOMi
1 Geselisri'-n. 1882, pp. 13-39.
144
TELESCOPE
sinplc white ray ;' it will "bo separated into coloored rays, following
diMcrcnt t-ouisc9» i^ The red ray Cr being less refracted will fall od
a pointy ol 1)lu eye-glass njorc reroolo from Us centre B than
FiQ. 7.— Haygeniaji eye-piece. ^
^5<Viol^t~ray" Cv,^ and (the prismaticity of the lens increasiDg
from the centre outwards) *riU in proportion by the second trans-.
mission be more bent aside tlian the violet, and thns a compensa-
tion is etfccted, and the two rays finally emerge parallel, their
exact paralltrhsm being secuTed by the pfoportion of their focal
lengths. The Hiiygenian eye-piece possesses also other important
advantages. The tota.1 deflexion of the light, to produce the mag-
nifying power, is equally divided between the two glasses, — the
most favourable condition for diminishing that distortion which is
alwzys perceived in looking obliquely through a lens ; and the field
of view 13 greatly enlarged in proportion to the size of the eye-lens,
being such as would require, to produce the same magnifying power,
a single lens of the much greater semi-diameter bd, found by draw-
ing Qf> parallel to gB and erecting bd. The inconvenience of this
eye-piece {whence it is improperly termed a negative eye-piece) is
that the image, being formed between its lenses, undergoes a cer-
tain amount of distortion by the field-glass, owing to which equal
linear portions of it do not correspond precisely to equal angular
mcasuresof the distant object. Equal parts of a micrometer applied
*t the place of the image, so as to be seen at the same time through
the eye-lens, will not correspond to precisely equal angular inter-
OnunOQ Vuls. The common astronomical or positive eye -piece, described
or po6i- by Ramsdcn {Phil. Trans., 1783), consists of two plano-convex
tive eye- lenses of equal lengths, having their convexities turned towards
niece. each other and separated by two-thirds of the focal length of either,
^y.
q^
:::^
V-_/
IT
p
•- A
/ \
6,^
Fio. 8.— Common or positive eye-piece-'*^
formed hy the~object»glass, at a distance AP equal to one-fourth
of the focal length of A. The first or field-glass, therefore, forms
an enlarged imn ge pg, at a distance one-third of that focal length
which places it in -the focus of the eye-glass. This eye-piece is
not properly achromatic, but its spherical aberration is much less
than in any of the other constructions', and it has the advantage of
ginng a flat field of view, requiring no change of focus to see the
turned towards each other." (3) For an erecting eye-niec^ of four
lenses the first and fourth (reckoned from the object-glass towards
the eye) should be crossed lenses of focal length 3, the radii of their
surfaces 1 : G, with their convex surfaces towards each other. The
second lens should be a meniscus of focal length 4, the radii of its-
surfaces 25:11, and its convexity towards the eye. The third lens
should be plano-convex, of focal length 4, its plane side towards
the eye. - The distance of the centre of the second lens from that
of the first = 4 ; that of the third from tlie second = 6 ; and t^jat of
the fourth from the third = 513. If a bright object appears yelloxv
or a dai k one blue at the edge farthest from the centre of the field,
the third aud fourth lenses must be together pushed inwards towards
the second lens.
* In many telescopes constructed specially for star observation only-
the object-glass is over-corrected for colour and under-corrected for
spherical aberration ; both these errors may sometimes be nearly
eliminated by a properly constructed Huygenian eye-piece {sec
filJCROSCOPE, vol. xvi. pp. 266-267). But, when a telescope is to-
be used over a considerable range of field for micrometric measure-
ments, it is obvious that the spherical aberration should be corrected
by the object-gUss alone. It is possible, however, to improve the
appearance of oojects somewhat in a telescope in which the chro-
matic aberration is over -corrected by employing an eye -piece
somewhat under-corrected for colour, and vux versa ; but the only
satisfactory plan is Jo have both object-glass and eye-piece as freo
as possible from both chromatic and spherical aberration. In ordei.*
to secure this, or a very large field of view, many forms of eye- piece
have been devised. Achromatic combLnarions have been substi-
tuted in some cases for the field-lens, in others for the eye-lens, in
others for both simple lenses of the Ramsden eye-piece. The best
of these combinations which the present writer has tested and
which practically fulfil all requirements of the astronomer are due
to Dt Hugo Schroder, to whom he is indebted for information ae
to their construction, ^i Fig. 10 represents Schroder's high, power
H.Schrsj-
der's
high
powef
eye-
piece^
Fio. 9.— Erecting or terrestrial eye-picce.y .
Er«cting*^ccntre and borders of the field with cqunl distinctness.^ The erect-
or terT<?s- ing or terrestrial eye-piece was invented by Dollond. Tlie principle
trial eye- of its construction will be understood from fig. 9.'» It is conveni-
pieoe. " ent for telescopes of ordinary use, because it presents a non-in-
verted image to^the eye,_allhough at some sacrifice of light and
^definition. *^ ^ -^ . ^^
Airy on '^ For nn account^of the theory of the cliromatic and spherical
eye- abrrration of eye-pieces by Sir Gcoi^e B, Airy, see Traiis. PhU.
pieces.* Soc. Camb., vol. ii. p. 243 and vol. iit p. =51. The author's con-
clusions are the following. (1) To securo'the greatest distinctness
>fithian eye-piece of the Huygenian typo, the field lens should bo
ri. meniscus of focil length 3. the radii of its surfaces 11:4, and
ifs convexity towards the object-glass ; the eye-lens should be a
double convex of focal length 1, tho radii of its surfaces 1 ; 6, and
its more convex eide towards the field-lens. Tho distance <^f the
lenses should be 2. There should be a perforated diaphragm at
disUnce 1 from the eye-lens. If a bright ohiect apj^ars yellow or
a dark one blue at the edge farthest from the centre of the field,
the lenses must he brought a little nearer together. (2) For an eye-
piece of Ramsden's t\'pe the two lenses should be plano-convex, of
focsil length 3, placed at distance 2, their cOTivei surfaces being
,'Fio. 10.— Schroder's higb power eye-p»ec«,^
fye-piece, which is admirably suited for micrometer worV, not only
because there arc only two reflecting surfaces in the triple lens of
which it is composed, but also because there is a comparatively
large distance between the lens and the micrometer web when the
latter is in focus. This condition is essential when it is desired to
pet the best bright illumination of the wires in a dark field (seo
Micrometer, vol. xyL p. 248). The triple lens is composed of a
dense fluid plano-convex lens between two lenses of soft crown glass..
The radii of curvature are — ' ^ '^
n =80026 convex ) ^ j^
'surfaces J r.j = 36-536 convex j" so« "own glass,
ceraented \ r3 = 3fi .S36 coocave 1. . - , j^ '
surfaces ^T^^ « plane f ^ '
cemented*} r^= « plane «• i ,„<■, „„,™ „ub„
, , _ t;=80-026 cod\-.I \ ^""^^ "O'^ El^
The corresponding foci for zones of different distance from the axis"
are— axis =100-00 ; zones 125 from axis, 90-81 ;
25 from axis. 99 32 ; 40 from axis. 93 "35 ; 45 from
axis, 10015; 50 from axis, 101-85. Thus tho
aperture of the lens may l>c half its focal length ■
without any sensible defect. Fig. 11 represents 0. ScKr^
Dr 0. Schroder's aplanntic eye-piece. The glass employed Is der's
Dauget*s cTCM*lC6i)and flint(F6,). The "refractive power of cro^^n aplanatid
is 15126 fo»0, that of flint V6-105 ; the dispersive pow«r of botti eye-
kinds of glass is 0'588. "^ ^ ' piece.
Fio. 11.— Schroder's ftplan^tic eye-piece.-
The radii of curvature for a lens of 1 inch (27-07 mm. ) focal len^^
re— y^ • f '
mm.
^ rs=I3-30
rt^ry= 7-OOcemeDted
i
nun. »
n=co-i2 - -
=73=10-34 cemeotcd
F,-= focal point of combination = -905 mm. from venex of^^;|
F2 = positi'^n of observer's fye= - 14 49 mm. from vertex of r^-
The thicknesses and distances apart of the surfaces are— " '
TELESCOPE
145
Gre-
klasccpe.
I l5t T*rt<x to 7d =0 TO mm. SiDt glass,
I Sd . .. 4lb= 3-60 ,, crowQ glass
Uh .. „ 5th = 1:1 M „ ur,
5th .. „ 6th= 0-61 „ ftintgUss,
^tb ., 8th= t*i „ cn>»nglu9
The distance between the plane surfaces is 22-S7 mm This fono
efeje-piece has been employed by Scbocfeld in his southern "I^urch
nustening," and Dr SchrcKler has madt one for the present wnter
which gives a perfect field 4i° in diameter on the telescope of 18
inches focal length and 3} inches aperture already referred to
ReJUettixg TtUxopt
The folloning are the various forms of reflecting telescopes The
Gregonao t<-le9coj>e is represented lo fig 12 A-4 and BB are
v
T\Q 12 —Gregorian telescow
concave mirrors having a common axis and their concanties facing
w each other The fcKus of A for parallel rays is at F that of B for
I parallel rays at/— between B and F Parallel ravp falling on AA
converge at F where an image is formed the rays are then re-
flected from B and conTergeal P. where ase<'ond and more enlarged
image w f'*niied Gregory himself showpd that, if the large mirror
were a segment of a paraboloid of revolntioo whose fo*'us i? F and
the small mirror an ellipsoid of revolution whose f(vi are F and P
respectively, the resulting luia^e will I»e plane ana undistorted
The image formed at P i? viewed through the eye-piece at E which
maybe of the Huygenian or Ramsd^^n typt The focal adjustment
13 accomplished by the scrpw S. whirb acti on a slide carrying an
arm to which the mirror B is aturhed The practical difBcuIty
of coostnicting Gregorian telescopes ol eood nefining quality is
very considerable, b^ase ii spherical mirmrs are (employed their
aberrations tend to increase each other, and u is extremely difficult
to give a true elliptic 6gure to the necessarily deep concavity of
the small speculum Short appears to have systematicaUy con-
quered this difficulty, and his Gregronan telescopes attained great
celebrity The use of the Gregorian form is» however, practically
abandoned in the present dav The magaifvins power of the
Y ■ f ' o ■ c r
telescope is = — ^, where F and / are respectively the local lengths
of the large and the small mirror, e the focal length of the eyepiece,
and X the distance between the principal foci of the two mirrors
{ — Yf'ui the diagram,' when the instrument i? in adjustment for
riewing distant objects The im^es are erect
Ckase The Cassegiuin telescope differs from the Gregorian only in the
?T3.ia substitution of a convei hyperbolic mirror for a concave elliptical
^seope. mirror as the small speculum This form has two distmct'ad van-
tages: (1) if spherical mirrors are employed their aberrations have
a tendency to correct each other ; (2) the instrument is shorter than
the Gregorian, exUris paribus^ by twice the focal length of the small
mirror Fewer telescopes have been made of this than perhaps of
any other form of reflector ; but in comparatively recent years the
^assegrain has acquired importance from the fact of its adoption
for the great Melbourne telescope. The magnif3ring power is com-
puted by the same formula as in the case of the Gregorian telescope
Sew The ]S'e\vtonian telescope is represented in fig 13 AA is a con-
tociau. cave mirror whose axis is aa. Parallel rays falling on A_A converge
on the plane
mirror BB,
and are
thence re
fleeted at
right angles*
to the axis.
TormiDg an
image in the
focus of the
eye- piece E
The Burface
of the large mirror should be a paraboloid of revolu- ; *'
tion. that of the small mirror a true optical plane
The magnifying power \s~Fle. This form is employed in the con-
struction of most modem reflectin^^ telescopes A glass prism of
total refieiion is sometimes eubstitL -d for the plane mirror
Her- The Herschelian or front view reflector is represented in fig. 14.
•chehaa AA is a concaTe parabolic mirror, whose axis ac is inclined to the
axis of the tube ab so that the image of an object in the focus of
the mirror may be viewed by an eye-piece at E. the angle ba^ bting
equal to the angle ccE Tlas form was adopted by the elder
I* — flprsrheliaii n-rleciot
Herschel to avoid the toss oi light trom reflexion tn ihe^mall mirror
ol the Newtonian telescope H has sevpral disa*! vantages 1 ' The
upper part of the observers heao mus! oecessaniv obstruct *nme of
the rays which would otherwise fall on the large mirror out when
a telescope ol verv large apertur** is "mploved the loss of light thus
occasioned is '"omparatively insignificant Moreovor. lisrurhance
of the air in front ot »he '^'lescope is created bv heat from the
observers head and bodv dnd 'his is fatal to tht Oest definition
To avoid ihe latter Trawl>a<k Sir lohn Herschel '£ncy Bm 3th
ed art 'Telescope voi uti p l*28j suggested the employment of
a small right-angled pnsm of total reflexion placed cIos«' to the eye-
lens of the eye-piece to permit the observer to view the image by
looking in a direction at nght angles to the eve piece, and th**rf fore
at right angles to the rube 2} In consequenre of the tilting o! the
mirror aberration is created and this increases rapidly with increased
tilting The construction is thus limited to telescopes in which
the proportion ol apertur** tc focal length i.*- not tijt. great In
HerscheVs 40-feet telescope the proportion was I to 10 and the
construction would hardlv be applicable* to modern telescopes, in
which the proportion often rise.« to 1 to 5 or 6 YeL when exceed
ingly faint objects have to be ooserved. this Inrno of tjPiPscope has
great advantages Herschel found that some objects which he dis-
covered with such an mstrument could not oven be seen when the
same telescope was used in the Newtonian form The from vipw
telescope- howpver has hardly been at all employed except bv the
Herschels But at the same time none but the Herschels have swept
the whole sky for the discovery of famt nebuia , and probably no
other astronomers hav«> worked for so many hours on end foi so
many nights as they dia and they emphasize the easy position of
the observer in using this lorm of instrument
Constntct/nn of Object-Glassa
The first point is the selection of glass disks of suitable quality Te^tng
The requisites are (1/ general transparency and freedom from object
mech&nical defects,such as specks, air- bubbles. &c-; {2ihom(^eneity, glass**
(3) freedom from internal strain The diik being roughly polished
on the sides, faults of the first class are easily detected by inspection
In order to secure the maximum of light grasp for aperture it is
desirable that the glass should bt zs colourless as possible, if the
roughly polished disk is laid upon white paper the amount of dis-
coloration can be readily estimated by comparing the colom of the
sheet as seen directly with that seen through the glass Fraan-
hofer's glass was far from colourless. Dollond's more coloured still ;
and we have shown that, for purposes when extreme light grasp is
not an object, the less transparency of such glass to the blue rays
of the spectrum affords advantages for a better correction of the
chromatic aberration of rays in tne brighter part of the spectrum.
The amount of light excluded by specks, air- bubbles, or even
scratches is quite iusignificant ; but these blemishes create diffrac-
tion phenomena and scattered light m the field, which are very
injunous to the performance of the instrument, especially when
faint objects are searched for in the neighbourhood of brighter ones.
It 13 essential for a telescope lens that the glass should be perfectly
homogeneous, that is. the refractive index must be identical for
every part of the disk This can be tested with extreme delicacy
by grinding the disk into the form of a lens and testing it bv
Toppler's method,* described under Optics (vol xva. p. 805) If
the disk IS mtended for a concave lens and is already so thin that
it becomes undesirable to make it thinner at the edges by convert-
ing it, m the first place, into a convex lens, it may be tested by
placing one of its surfaces in contact with and at right angles to
the axis of a crown lens of known perfection, and testing the com
bination by Toppler's method If a glass disk is not properly Acneal.
annealed— thai is. if it has been too quickly cooled, so that the mg
outer sheU has hardened before the inner portion — the finally
solidified mass must be in a state of tension, like that of "Rupert's
drops ' Unless cooled very gradually an optical disk would fly to
pieces, but a very much smaller defect in the annealing process would
be fatal foi refined optical purposes. Changes of temperature would
produce changes of curvature, and the lens would also change its
form when successive portions of the strained outer shell were
removed in the process of grinding and polishing. FortunateJy
Pogff, Anna!., cxxxj., 1S6T.
X5m. —
19
146
TELESCOPE
defects in anncaliDg are very easily dettcted by meaus of the polari-
scope. The polished disk is placed in light reflected from a polar-
izing surface, such as a sheet of glass blackened at the back, and
examined with a 'Nicol's prism as an analyser." If the bright rings
and black cross (see Light, vol. xiv. p. 613) are viaiyble the disk is
unht for use ; but, since few disks are so perfectly atiuealed as not
to show a trace of the black cross, such as show it in no marked
debtee may be safely em ployed. Perfect annealing has now become
the most difficult portion of the art of making optical glass, and
large disks (more particularly of crown glass) are rejected by the
optician more frequently for defects in annealing than for any other
cause.
The disks having been sel.-cted, their refractive and dispersive
powers determined, and the radii of curvature computed, it remains
to convtrt the disks into K-ii^cs with surfaces of the required curva-
ture, and to complete the object-glass. The work consists of five
distinct optTatioiis — (1) rough grinding by a revolving tool supplied
with sand and water ; (2) fine grinding with emery ; (3) polishing
with oxide of iron, rouge, or putty powder, the grinder being faced
with fine cloth, satin, paper, or — best of all — pitch ; (4) centring ;
(5) figuring and testing. These processes are essentially of a tech-
nical character, and can only be familiar to those who practise the
art. The deUils would be out of place here, but are well described
in a lecture delivered by Sir Howard Grubb at the Royal Institu-
tion, 6th April 1886, and printed in Nature, 27th May 1886.
Construction of Specula.
Con- The combosition of metallic, specula in the present day differs
6'nffUon very little from that used by Sir Isaac Newton. Many different
o* alloys have been suggested, some including silver, nickel, ziuc, or
specula, arsenic ; but that which has practically been found best is an alloy
of four equivalents of copper to one of tin, or the following pro-
portions by weight :— copper 252, tin 117 8. Such speculum metal
is exceedingly lurd and brittle, takes a fine white polish, and
wlien protected from damp has little liability to tarnish. The
process of casting and annealing, In the case of the specula of the
great ML-lbourne telescope, was admirably described by Dr Robin-
son in Ffnl. Trans., 1869, vol. qVitl. p. 135. Shaping, polishing,
and figuring of specula are accomplished by methods and tools pre-
cisely similar to those employed in the construction of lenses. The
reflecting surface is first ground to a spherical form, the parabolic
figure b'lir.g giv*-n in the final process by regulating thesize of the
pitch =iqu.ircs and the stroke of the polishing macnine. The pro-
cess of ti'sting is identical with that of an object-glass.
Soon after Liebig's discovery of a process for depositing a film
of pure metallic silver upon glass from a salt of silver in solution,
Stoinheil {Gaz. Univ. (VAngs'hurg^ 24tli March IS56), and later, in-
dependently, ^"oucault {Compics Rcndus, vol. xliv., February 1857), ■
proposed to employ glass for the specula of telescopes, the" reflect-
ing surface of the glass speculum to be covered with silver by
Liebig's process. These silver-on-glass specula are now the rivals
of the achromatic t<-lescopo, and it is not probable that ihany tele-
scopes with metal specula will be inaJe in the future. The best
speculum metal and ihu greatest care are no guarantee of freedom
from taniish. and. if such a mirror is much exposed, as it must
be in the hands of an active observer, frequent repolishing will he
necessary. This involves refiguring, which is the most delicate and
costly process of all. Every time, therefore, that a speculum is
repolished, the futnre quality of the instrument is at stake; its
focal Icr.gth wnll probably be altered, and thus the value of the
constants of the micromcLur also have to be redetermined. Partly
for these reasons the reflecting telescope with metallic mirror has
never bten a favourite with the professional astronomer, and has
found little employment out of England. In England, in the
hands of the Hcrsrhds, Rosse, Lassell, and De la Rue it has done
splendid service, bui in all these cases the astronomer and the
instrunicnt-makor were one. The silver-on-glass mirror has the
enormous a(Ivanl;igc that it can be resilvercd with little trouble,
at small expense, aiid without danger of changing the figure. Its
chief work has been done in the hands of Draper and Common,
who wore the engineers, if not tlie actual constructors, of their own
instrumeiiLs. Glass is lighter, slifl'or, less costly, and easier to work
than specullim metal. The silvered mirrors have also some ad-
vantage in light grasp over those of speculum metal, though, a[>cr-
ture for aperture, the former arc inferior to the modem object-glass.
Comparisons of light grasp derived from small, fresh, carefully
silvered surfaces are somctin)e<i given which lead to illusory results,
and from such cxjKrmients Foucault claimed superiority for tlie
silvered speculum over the objecl-gbss. Rut the present writer
hjs found from experience and careful comparison that a silvered
mirror of 12-inches aperture mounted as a Newtonian telescope
(with a silvered plane for the small mirror), when the surfaces
(arc in 'fair average condition, is equal in light grasp to a first-rate
^refractor of 10-inchcs aperture, or area for area as 2 : 3. This ratio
\nU become more equal for larger sizes on account of the additional
thickness of larger objectglx*:se9 and the consequent additional ab-
vflorjitioD of light in transmission.
'Mounting of Telescopes.
The proper mounting of a telescope is hardly of less importance Mouut-
than its optical perfection. Freedom from tremor, ease and deli- iug of
cacy of movement, facility of directing the instrument to any tele-
desired point in the heavens, are the primary qualifications. Ourscojie*.
limits forbid an historical account of the earlier endeavoors to fulfil
these ends by means of motions in altituJe and azimuth, nor-caa
we do more than refer to moimtings such as those employed by the
Herschels, or those designed by Lord Rosse to overcome the en-
gineering difloculties of mounting his huge telescope of 6 feet aper-
ture. Both are abundantly illustrated in most popular works on
'astronomy, and it seems sufficient to refer the reader to the original
descriptions.*
We pass, therefore, directly to the equatorial telescope, the instru- Equa£ar-«-'
ment />ar cxcelUiux of the modern extra-meridian astronomer, atul iaL
relegate to the article Transit Circle {q.v.) a description of those
mountings in which the telescope is simply a refined substitute for
the sights or pinnies of the old astronomers. The equatorial in
its simplest form consists of an a>Lis parallel to the earth's axis,^
called the "polar axis"; a second axis, at right angles to this,,
called the "declination axis" ; and a telescope fixed at right angles
to the latter. In fig. 15 AA is the polar axis ; the telescope iaj
attached to the end of the
declination axis ; the latter
rotates in bearings attached *-
to the polar axis, and con-
cealed by the telescope itself.
The telescope is counter-
poised by a weight
attached to the op-
posite end of the
declination axis.
The lower pivot of
the polar axis rests f
on a cup bearing at p,^_ u. -Equatorial telescope.
C, the upper pivot • ^ *^ .
upon a strong metal casting MM, attached to a stone pierS.': \
vertical plane passing through AA is therefore in the meridian, and ■
when the decbnatioa axis is horizontal, the telescope moves in the
plane of the meridian by rotation on the declination axis only.
Thus, if a graduated circle BB is attached to the declination axis, '
together -with the necessary microscopes or verniers V,V for reading,
it (see Transit CiRCLE), so arranged that when the telescope is
turned on the declination axis till it is parallel to AA the vernier
reads 0° or 90', and w hen at right angles to AA 90° or 0*, then wo
can employ the readings of this circle to measure the polar distance
or declination of any star seen in the telescope, and these readings
will also be true (apart from the effects of atmospheric refraction)
if we rotate the instrument through any angle on the axis AA.
Thus one important attribute of an equatorially mounted telescope
is that, if it is directed to any fixed star, it will follow the diurnal
motion of that star from rising to setting by rotation of the polar
axis only. If we further attach to the polar axis a graduated
circle DD, called the "hour circle," of which the microscope or
vernier R reads 0^ when' the declination axis is horizontal, we can
obviously read off the hour angle from the meridian of any star tc
which the telescope may bo directed at the instant of observarion.
If the local sidereal time of the observation is known, the right
ascension of the star becomes known by adding the observed hooi
angle to the sidereal time if the star is west of the meridian, oi
subtracting it if east of the meridian. Since the equatorial is un-
suitable for such observations wheii great accuracy is required (see
Transit Circle), the declination and hour circles of an 'equatorial
are employed not for determination of the right ascensions and
declinations of celestial objects, but for directing the telescope
with ease and certainty to any object situated in a known position,
and w'hich may or may not be visible to the unaided eye, or to
define approximately the position of an unknown object. Further,
by causing the hour circle, and with it the polar axis, to rotate by;
clockwork or some other mechanical contrivance at the same angu-i.
lar velocity as the earth on its axis, but in the opposite directioi^,
the telescope will automatically follow a star from rising to setting.
Equatorial mountings may be divided into five ty]x'S. (A) The Types 4t
pivots or bearings of the polar axis are placed at its extremities, equitw ■ .
The declination axis rests on bearings attached to opposite sides of iak.
the polar axis. The telescope is attached to one end of the declina-
tioa axis, and counterpoised by a weight at the other end, as in fig.
15. (B) The polar axis is supported as in type A ; the telescope
is placed between the Ijcarings of the declination axis and is
mounted symmetrically with respect to the polar axis ; no counter-
poise is therefore requisite. (C) The declination axis is mounted
on the prolongation of the upper pivot of the polar axis ; the tele-
scope is plated at one end of the (leclination axis and counter-
poised by a weight at the other end. (D) The declination axis
1 Hersc'iel, PkH. Trans., 1795, vol. Ixixv. p. 317 ; Rosse, Phil. Trans., ISW^
p. 503. aad 1801, p. Cdl. ^
TELESCOPE
147
\
is mounted on a forked piece or other similar contrivanca attached
lo-a [roloiigatioo of the upper pivot of the polar axis ; the tele^
scflpc is mounted between Ihtf pivots of the declinacioD aiis. (E)
The eyopiece of the telescope is pbced in the upper pivot of the
polir aiis ; a portibn "or the whole of the axis oftlie telescope
tube coincides »ith tjie poiar axis. Mountings of types A and B
» — that is, with a long polar axis supported at both enas— are often
called the " English mounting," ana types C and D, in which the
declisatioQ axis is placed on the extenaioQ of the upper pivot'of^
iBe polar axis, are called the "German monntine," from the 6rst
employment of type C by fraunhofer. A descnption of some of
the best examples of each type will illustrate their relative' advan-
tages or peculiarities.
T>pe A fig, 15 may be taken as a prachcal example of the cirlicr cqua-
torials as made by Trough ton in England and afterwards by Gambey
for various Continental obser\atories In the Phit. Trans, for 1824
(part 3, pp. 1.412) will be found a description by Sir John Her^hel
and Sir -James South of the equatorial telescope which ihey em-
ployed in their measurements of double stars. The polar axis was
cimilar in sh^pe to that of 6g. 15 and.was composed of sheets of
tiiined iron. In Smyth's celebrated Bedford telescope the polar
axis was of mahogany, probably the best example of this type of
mounting applied to a refractor is that made by the elder Cooke of
■York for.ilj Fletcher of Tarnhantv; the polar axis is of cast iron
end the mounting v^ satisfactory and convenient, but
unfortunately no detailed descnption has been pub-
lished. -In recent ytars no' noteworthy retractors
have been mounted on this pbn ; *but type A
Great has been chosen by Grubb (or the great Mel-
Mel- bourne reflector, with' marked ingeiiuity of
boanie adaptation to the peculiar requirements
telescope, of the case. Eig. 16 shows the whole
'instnunent on a;imairscare, and fig.^
1 7 represents part of it on a larger
scale, the upper part of the tub^,
and polar axis being omitted. The
figures show the telescope directed
to the pole, the hour circle being
set e"" from the meridian. > The -^ ^
polar axis consists of a hollow , , , . , . _ . , "^
^ ,^ tm^ r . - FtQ. 11- — -1- .- ----Or.
cone C (fig. 1 / ) of cast , iron
bolted to atollow cast-iron tube H, to the lower side of which
is attached a short steel axis carrying the driving sector EF and
the hour circle R, and terminating in the lower pivot of the polar
'axis. This pivot a is terminated by a piece of chilled
cast iron polished flat on its lower face, which face re-
volves in contact with a piece of bell metal, Sat on its
upper and partly spherical on its lower side, bearing in
a corresijondingly shaped annulus, formed to receive i;
in the cast-iron block which is attached to the
pier. This arrangement enables the bell -metal
cushion to take its own position when the direc-
tion of the polar axis is slightly changed in pro-
cess of adjustment. The ptessnie of the pivot on
its bearings, in the direction at right angles to the polar axis, ii
4V.S v^w,i,^a, lu i,,^ uiic<.iiuu A\. ri^ut angles lo me polar
relieved by the sector A, which is forced up by the screw d
through laininje of steel springs..' The end pressure of a u
icting
i|niD ir
ES:.-
flo. 17.
beaitogs is relieved by a wuigi.t. T r.f inctior. •■: iuc- up ; er pivot ls w.
lieved by a sector pressed op against it by the action of two weiglTB.;
In this way, although the moving part of the telescope weighs 18, 1 70
lb, it can be turned with a pressure of 1'2J lb, acting at a radius ol
20 feet. The driving sector EF is 5 feet in radius ; iu
^ circular rim is accurately toothed to fit a square threaded
endless screw E, which is turned by the dri ing clock^
A toothed wheel attached to H and acted on by a pinion
connected with a hand-wheel affords an easy means oi
setting the instrument in hour angle, or
moving the telescope quickly in right asccn'
eion. The telescope is clamped by iron bandj
to the strong cast-iron cradle, which is cast
iwith and forms, ony extremity of the declihs;
Type'B,
Green-
wicb
teriaL
■^^
C3iS>
rion axis. The connterpoise IT ia attacht^d lo
the other extremity. There is an elegant ar.
rangenient for diminishing the friction of tho
declination axis, which our limits do not per-
mit us to describe, and the means for clamping
and giving slow motion in declination do- not
require special notice. The reader is referred
for a fuller description to Fhil. Trans., 1869,
pp. 127161. The telescope is of the Cassegrain
form, the mirror having a 4-feet aperture antl
30i-feet focal length.
The best existing examples of tj-pe B ara
Aur'e eqtiatorial at Greenwich, the equatorial
at Liverpool (also designed by Airy), and the
photographic eqnatorial recently erected at the Paris i.beurvatory.
The polar axis of the Greenwich equatorial consists of bix iron tubes
arranged so as to form two triangular'braccd beams cminocted by
verv strong elliprical wheels of cast iron, which c.iiry the upper
ana lower pi't^ts cf the polar axis. These tubes aro .-^Iiown in sec-
tion at the points T, fig. 13, which represents a sewtinn through
the decUnation axis in tba plane of-tne equator when the tele-
scope ia directed to a star at the equator (for the general errange
inent of the mounting, see Cg. 18). The driving circle is 6 feet In
diameter, and turns freely on the lower pivot of the polar axis
under the action of the driving clock. The hour circle is gradtiatea
on the driving circle, and may be let to show aidoreal tim^ dnring
18- — Gi<xu?iu^h eqaatorla].
'the whole of a night's work ; thus the ob?t;r\T
in order to d:n-ct tho instrument on a parti-
cular object, has ouly to set an index connecteii
with the [»)lar axis lo the star's right ascension
upon the ho>ir •■in le, without the'trouble of computing
the honr-angle at the instant of observation. This
convenient arrangt-ment ^as £r5t introduced by .^Viry.*
The whole it. 'Quitting is v-ry massive, but very inccn-
veniKi.t to ii.-io'\vlien n Lrf''at many different objects
have to be examined on ibe same night ; but on ac-
count of its freedom from tremor and the excellenca
of its driving clock it should bo very saitable for pro-
longed study of a sinjrle object or for long photo-
graphic exposures.' Quite recently Sir Howard Grubb New
has.signed a contract to make a telescope of 28-inchea aperture and Greei-
28-feel focal length,' which is to be substituted for the present tele- ■*'ich
scope by M9r2 t Son of IJJ ioohes aoerture andlS-feet foous. Fig. telescope
19 IS engraved from a photograph of^tha model of the original polar
axis. The tnbdel was pt«p&red to iHustTate the manner in which the
new telescope is to hemdanted, and we are indebted for the picture
1 See the dataHjd aeoonnt tn (htenKv-K Oburvaticns, ises.
3 Thi* obJect.^lA*a wfn have tha »>ictrt£8t proportional focal length of any yet
conetructed of aperture exceeding 16 inches- The fcllow-;ng table givea tiie
focal lenyth tn tMrtnres of the Ulyut exutiog pefractora :—
Vler ,01 toi«»cop« fGnibb) ITlacbea aMrture, focal length 15-6 apertures
- (OUrk) M
Wislilngton
PuUgn
(Clnkl M
> 16-9 5, ,.
148
TELESCOPE
to tlie kindness of Mr Christie, astronomer royal. The object-glass
will be actually outside the dome when the telescope is pointed near
the senith or near the horizon. The dew-cap, not shown in the
model, will be always outside the dome, and it is not impossible
Pans
photo-
graphic
tele-
scope.
tliat this arrangement may be favourable to good definition, except
in case of high. wind. When the telescope is not in use the dew-
cap slides backwards on four rails parallel to the axis of the tele-
scope, and the whole is housed in the position shown in fig. 19.
The spectroscope is. used at right angles to the telescope tube, a
right-angled prism of total reflexion being interposed in the con-
verging cone of rays near the focus. This prism can be turned
180° and an eye-piece inserted on the opposite side from the spectro-
scope for observations near the zenith or horizon, otherwise the eye
end would be too near the floor or northern pier.'
A figure of the new photographic telescope erected at the Paris
obscrvatoiy may be seen in Nature, 13th May 1886. The object-
glass is by MM. Paul and Prosper Henry, the mounting by M.
Gautier. Here Airy's braced tubes are replaced by hollow metal
beams of triangular shape (as for the Liverpool equatorial). The
hour circle has two toothed circles cut upon it, one acted upon by
a screw attached to the pier and driven by the clock, the other by
a second screw attached to the polar axis, which can be turned very
slowly by a handle in th"- •■bserver's hand. Thus a very slow
movement can be aiven t" the telescope in right ascension, inde-
pendently of the clock. Slow motion in declination can be com-
municated hy a screw acting on a long arm, which can be clamped
at pleasure to the polar ajis by a convenient handle. An oblong
metallic box. fitted with pivots, whose bearings are attached to the
triangular beams, forms the tube for two parallel telescopes; these
are separated throughout their length by a metallic diaphragm.
The chromatic aberration of the object-glass of one of these tele-
scopes is corrected for photograpliic rays, and the image formed
by it is received on a highly sensitive photographic plate. The
other telescope is corrected for visual rays and its image is formed
on the plane of the spider lines of a filar micrometer. The peculiar
form of the tube is eminently suited for rigid preservation of the
relative parallelism of the axes of the two telescopes, so that, if a
certain selected star is rel.iined in bisection by two intersecting
wires in the micrometer, by means. of the driving clock, aided by
small corrections given by the observer in right ascension and de-
clination (required on account of irregularity in the clock move-
ment, error in astronomical adjustment of the polar axis, or changes
v.\ the star's apparent place produced by refraction), the image of
a star will continue on the same spot of the photographic pl*to
during the whole time of exposure. Exquisite photographs ol star
clusters, doublo stars, the moon, and planets have been obtained
by MM. Henry, and they are the inost eloquent testimony to the
optical perfection of the object-glass and the efliciency of tho
mounting. They show also that we aro entering upon' a new era
in practical a^^ronomy, in which photography is destjned to pl.ay a
•.leading part. The Henry photographic object-glass is of 13'4-inche3
'aperture and only 10 apertures in focal length. The "guitling
tclescojie " is of 9i-inches aperture and nearly 12-fcet focus. The
photographic object-glass, notwithstanding its small proportional'
focal length, covers a field of 2i° in diameter with perfect precision..
Type C, Many more telescopes have been made of type C than of an^
other, and it is now almost exclusively employed for the mounting
of modem refractors. Its essential features are (1) a comparatively
short polar axis and (2) a cross-head attached to the extension of
""> upper ^^ -(fivot of the polar axis, to carry the bearings
clination axis. Fig. 20 shows the Dorpat Dori>at
the chef (Tauvre of Fraunhofer, and the refractof
torial of any importance that was pro-
clockwork. AA is the polar axis, B the
graduated on the face and read by iTio
is the driving clock, which turns an
that gears in the toothed edge of the
the cross head supporting at its
bearings of the declination axis.
scope tube rests in a strong
brass, which is screwed to a
the declination axis ; the de-
■ which is attached to its op-
' clamp the instrumeut in
H is a weight acting on a
wheels k (one -only seen
upper pivot of the polar
friction of that pivot
the
of the de
refractor,
first equa-
vided with
hour circle
vernier V. Xi'
endless screw S,
circle B. D is
extremities the
The wooden tele-
cradle FF of cast
flange on one end of
clination circle EE,
posite end, serves to
declination to the armG.
lever which presses tho
in tho figure) against the
axis in order to relieve the
1 Tliese inconvenient conditions are impoaed by the dimeafiions of the exist-
IDS dome and may lead to accidents In piacticc.
FiG- 20. —Dorpat rerractor. ■
on its bearing. The counterpoise Vf balances the tube about the
polar axis. M, M are counterpoise weights which act on levers
TO,m, whose fulcra are universal joints at n attached to the cradle.
These weights serve to counterpoise the longer end of the tube and
to check its flexure. QQ is the finder, a small telescope whose
axis is parallel to tho great telescope ; having a low magnifying
power and a largo field of view, it serves to direct the largo
telescope to any object seen in the sky, which otherwise would bo
difllcult to find in the comparatively limited field of the large tele-
scope. The stand TTT is of oak. The instrument is described in
detail by Struve (Beschrcihung des auf dcr Sternwarte zu Dorpat
bcfiwdlichm grossen Refractors con, Fraunhofer, Dorpat, 1325, fol.).
The instrument was an enormous advance upon all previous tele,
scopes for micrometric research. In tho hands of Struve results
were obtained by it which in combined quality and quantity had
never before been reached in micrometric research. Its success was
such that the type of Fraunhofer's telescope became stereotyped for
many years not only by his successors but throughout Germany.
When twelve yearS afterwards Struve ordered the ISiiich refractor
,for|the new. obsetvatpry at Pulkowa, the only important change
made by Fraunhofer's successors was, at Stnive's suggestion, tho
substitution 6f a 'st'o^o pier for the wooden stand in the original
instrument.
Both the Dorfat and the Pulkowa refractor are defectivo in
rigidity, especially in right ascension, fho declination circle is
most inconvenient pf access, and slow motion in declination can
Only be efl'ected when the instrument is clamped by a long and
inconvenient handle, so that practically clamping iu declination
was not employed. The slow motion in right ascension is defective,
being accoipplished in the Dorpat refractor by changing the wl«
I
TELESCOPE
149^
Oxford
nMter.
lorial.
of the clock, and in the Pulkowa refractor by a li.injlc which when
useU affects very injuriously the rate of tiie clock tor tlie time being.
Struve's skill as an observer was such that he used to complete the.'
bisection on the lixed wire of the microineter hy a pressure of the,
finger on the side of the tube, — a method of proved efficiency in
such liands, but plainly indicative of the want of rigidity in the
instrument and of the deficiency of the slow motions (see MiCBO-
SETER, vol. xvi. p. 245). The driving circle is also much too
small, so th.-it a very slight mechanical Ireedom of the screw in the.'
teeth involves a large angular freedom of the telescope in right
ascension, whilst its position at the lower eud of a too weak polar
axis tends to create instability in right ascension from tortion of
that axis. Strange to say, the wooden tube has till very i-ecently
retained its place m German mountiugs.
About 1840 a great advance was made in the right direc'.ion by
the Repsolds of Hamburg in the equatorial mounting of the Oxford
heliometer. The driving circle was greatly increased in d;ameter,
and placed at the upper end of the polar a.\is, and both the polar
».xis and the declination axis were mado much stronger in propor-
tion to the mass of the instrument they were destined to
carry. (A 6guro of this instrument is given in tha
Cooke'i Oxford Oksenalions for 1850.) About 1850 Thomas
Cooke of York began his career as a maker of equa-
torial telescopes, and gave a new character to the
German mounting. Fig. 21 represents a typical
equatorial of his design. A strong cast-iron
pillar is substituted for Fraunhofcr's stand.
On the semi-cylindrical top of the pillar
rests the cast-iron box AA, which contains
at its upper and lower extremities the
bearings of the polar axis. Its mode
of connexion with the pillar permits
the inclination of the bo.x to be
changed for adjustment of the
inclination of the polar axis.
The strong cross-head C, sup-
porting the bearings of tho
aecliuation axis, is of ca:^t
iron, bolted to a flange ou
the upper pivot of the
polar axis. Fraun
oofer's cradle and
wooden tube are
abolished, and in
their place is a e^
cast-iron cylindri- ■*
cal tube D, flanged
at both ends and also at the point '
it is bolted to a corresponding flange on
the end of the declination axis, all three
flanges being cast in one piece with the
central tube ; the rest of the tube consists
of two slightly tapered brass cylinders
bolted bf strong flanges to the central tube
D. The handle F clamps the arm H to
the cross-head C at _-^~^^ -=-;
pleasure, and slow mo- jg=^
tion in declination ' ~
communicated by the -^^
handles at E and G.
Two circles at K and
M are attached to the _ n, „ , . . ■ ,
„ _+ f *i, 1 FlO. 21.— Cookes CQuatonal.
upper part of the polar
axis. To one of these motion is communicated by the tangent
acrew at 51 (turned by the clock N) acting on teeth cut at the
edge of tho circle. The other is a graduated hour circle read
by two opposite microscopes, one of which is seen at P. • The
endless cord hanging down and holding a sliding ring at Q is em-
ployed to give slow motion in right ascension, in some instrunients
by moving the frame of the driving screw in the direction of the
axis of the screw, in others by moving differential wheels which
accelerate or retard the velocity of rotation of the driving screw
without affecting the^ rate of the clock. The declination circle
RR is attached to the farther end of the declination axis and is
inconvenient of access. Cooke's stand is admirable for its symmetry
and simplicity of design, its just apportioning of strength, and a
general rigidity with suitability of means to ends.
It is not a little curious that the obvious improvement of trans-
ferring the declination circle as well as the declination clamp to the
telescope end of the declination axis was so long delayed ; we can
ascribe the delay only to a desire to retain the declination circle as
part of the counterpoise. We believe that the first important
equatorials in which the declination axis was read from the eye
end were the 15-inch by Grubb and the 6-inch by Cooke, made for
the observatory of Lord Crawford (then Lord Lindsay) at Dun Echt
(Aberdeenshire) about 1873. The plan is now almost nniversally
adopted. Telescopes of such dimensions can be conveniently
directed to any object by the circles without the observer being
uuder the necessity to climb a special ladder. But when much
larger instruments are required tho hour circle becomes inaccessible
from the floor, afid means nave to be devised for read-
ing both circles ^from the eye end. This was first
accomplished by Grubb in the great refractor
of 27-inches aperture which he constructed
for the Vienna observatoiy, represented in yd^y^y^ Great
section in fig. 22. The observer's eye is j^y&i/y Vienna
applied to the small telescopo E, which jCf/^r^^ **'*-
(by means of prisms numbered 1, 2, ^•//^^C/Y scope.
3, 4) views the vernier attached to
the cross-head simultaneously
with tho hour circle attached
to the upper end of the polar
axis. Light to illuminato
the vernier and circle is
thrown from the lamp
L upon prism 4 by
the prisms 6 and
5. Prism 1 is in
the axis of the
declination
circle and
always
Fia. 2C.— Crubb's 27-inch refractor (Vienna).
reflects rays along that axis, whatever the position of the telescope
may be, whilst the prisms 2, 3, 4, 5, and 6 are attached to the cross-
head and therefore preserve their relative positions to each other.
Through the eye-piece of the bent ' telescope E' another hour circle
attached to the lower end of the polar axis can be seen ; thus an
assistant is able to direct the telescope by a handle at H to any
desired hour angle. A slight rotatory motion of the telescopo E
on its axis enables the vernier of the declination circle to be read
through prism 1. The leading features of this fine instrument
represent those of all Grubb's large telescopes. The mode of re-
lieving the friction of the declina-
tion axis is similar to that em-
ployed in the Jlelboume teh-
scope and in the account of the
Vienna telescopo published
by Grubb. The end fric-
tion of the polar axis
is relieved by a ring
of conical rollers show a
in section beside the
principal figure.
From this point
Fio. 23.— Dr Engelmanij's 8 Inch refractor.
wo must condense further description into critical remarks on a few
typical modern instruments.
(1) Telescopes of Moderate Size for Mierometric Research only. —
I lo the bent telescope refracting prisms are employed at the comen to
cb&Dge tbe dtrectioQ of the rays.
150
TELESCOPJ^
Fif^. 23 shows the mounting of the 8-inch refractor, of 9-feet focal
length, at the private observatory of Dr Engclraami, Leipsic. Tlie
object-glass is by Messrs Clark of Cambridge, Mass., the mounticg
Repsolds' by the Repsolds of Hamburg. The declination circle "
small reads from the eye end, and four handles for clamp-
equa- ing and slow motion in right ascension and declina-
lorial ]!tion are situated near the observer's hands. The
iitube is of sheet steel, light, stiff, arid free from
tremor. The eye end carries the micrometer
ftnth an illuminating apparatus similar to that
previously described under Micrometer, ■
.vol. xvi. p. 246 sq., figs. 16, 17, 20, and 21.
\The larnp near the eye end illuminates
the 6eld or the wires at pleasure, as well
as the position circle of the micro-
meter and the declination circle ;
1 separate lamp illuminates the
hour circle. An excellent fea«'
ture (see fig. 24) is the short
'distance between the eye-piece
land the declination
axis, so that the
'observer has to fol-
low the -eye end
in a comparatively
small circle ; an-
other good point is
the flattening of the cast-iron
centre-piece of the tube so that
'the flange of the declination axis
lis attached as near to the axis of
[the telescope tube as is consistent
with free passage of the cone of ^
rays from the object-glass. For
purposes of micrometiic research
with the ordinary micrometer --
Hiis instrument is tlie mostele-(
gant, satisfactory, and useful tliat ^- --'
we know, as was shown by the ^ '_
exceedingly accurate obscrva-"~-
tions of the minor planets Vic
toria and Sappho for solar paral-
lax, by Galle's method (see
Parallax, vol. xviii. p. 249),
made by Dr Engelmann in 18S2.^
jThc substitution of small incan-\
ixlcscent electric lamps for the . l-io. 24. ■
joil lamps would be nn improvement.
GmbVs (2) Telescopes of Moderate Size/or General Purposes. —The modern -
small "*■. equatorial should for general purposes be capable of carrying spectro-
equa- scopes of considerable weight, so that the strength of the axis and
torial itlie rigidity of the instrument generally have to be considerably
increased. Grubb has realized our ideas of what such an instru-
[mcnt should be in an equatorial of 6-inehes aperture which he has
[recently made for the royal observatory at the Cape of Good Hope.
iThe principal features are its great strength and rigidity, with
special precautions to ensure preservation of the instrumental
'declination. Tlie observations of Victoria and Sappho in 1882
revealed the great- deficiency of most modern equatorials in this
respect. That is to say, if a star near the meridian is first made
to run along the measuring web of the micrometer, the clockwork
then set in action, and the star brought back to the centre of the
field by the slow-motion handle in right ascension, it -wilj be found
that the perfection of the bisection is no longer preserved. ^ Thus
at most observatories the measures of difi'erence of declination
jwhen the clockwork was employed were far inferior to those made
jwith the telescope at rest. The reason seems to be that in most
equatorials the lower pivot is -cylindrical, and enters an ordinary
cylindrical bearing which cannot be a perfect fit. Also the cross-
head, telescope, counterpoise, &c., generally together overbalance
the polar axis about the upper bearing, so that the lower pivot
presses upwards in its bearing, and its rotation, ujider tlie action
of the clock or slow motion coupled with the friction of the sur-
faces, gives rise to a small rolling freedom which creates the errors
in question. In this telescope the lower pivot is of steel, made
slightly conical, and carefully ground to fit a long conical bearing,
in which it would work very tightly, or even jam, but for spring
ipressure brought to bear on its lower hardened flat end, which
relieves the greater part of the thrust ; and the polar axis is accu-
rately balanced about its upper bearing by a weight at the lower
end of the polar axis, so that the thrust is exactly in the axis of
the cone. Thu upper pivot {4 inches in diameter) is also of steel,
fini.shcd with the same caro- as that of a transit circle, so that the
,telescope rotates W'ith the precision of a meridian instrument,.
Unusual rigidity has also been given to the declination clamping
arms, and tlie new slow motion in dev-lination is by fai- the best
yet contrived; it is^a recent invention of Grubb's, and 'is jie-
-Dr Engelmann's 8-inch
refractor.
scribed below in his own words. The eye end, suitable foe heavy
spectroscopes, &c., is fitted to the butt end of the telescope by
bayonet joints and tightening screws, so that it can be exchanged
for a micrometvic eye end with almost as little trouble as the cx-j
changing of an eye-piece. The illumination of the circles and the
micrometer is by electric incandescent lamps. The instrument
may be adjusted to any latitude and is probably the most practical
and serviceable equatorial made. The subjoined description of thei
new slow motion in declination is taken from Free. M. Dubl. Soc^S
1886, p. 107.
■"The slow motion arrangements usually used in equatorials are of either of
two forms, viz.^ (a) an endless screw working into a sector or portion of a
toothed circle of long radius, or {b) a screw applying or pushing directly,
against an arm, that arm being kept in contact with the scjew by a spiral or
some other form of spring liaving a conBidenible range of motion. The first (a)
possesses the disadvantage that, however carefully made, it is impossible it is
quite free from ' loss ' or ' back lash ' ;. and consequently the position of the
.telescope is not perfectly determinate in declinatfbn, Which fault is incon-
venient ^^'hen delicate measures are required. The second (Whas practically
no 'back lash,' as spring
keeps the arm in-perfect con-
tact with screw, T)ut it has '
the disadvantage that, what-
ever range of motion is re-
quired, the spring must be
capable of working through
thesame range; consequently
the spring will be much
stronger in action at one end
of the range than the other,
unless it be made very long
indeed, in which case its ac-
tion is uncertain and un-
pleasant. To remedy these
defects the author '[GrubbJ
has devised the following,
which possesses the advan-
tages of both :— ABCD (fig.
25) is a portion of the arms
attached to telescope, or
ciadle, on which is planted the block (ft), forming the bearing cf"the screw.
The nut (n) is in the fonn of a ball working in a socket on thq extremity of
the clamp-arm EFG. A short stilF spring (S) is attached to this clamp-arm,
bearing, not directly against any part of ottier arm^ but against end of a second
screw of same pitch as the main screw, the nut of which {oo) is toothed on edge,
and works into S'wheel of equal size (;ip) on main screw. The point of tliis
second screw, therefore, advances as much in one direction as the frame ABCD
is carried in other, according as the milled head is turned ; and consequently
the point of the screw does not sensibly vary in its position with respect to
the cl.imp-arm EFG. A short stiff spring can therefore be used; and the dis-
advantage above mentioned disappears."
This form of slow motion could be applied with advantage to the
right ascension also, and probably to tlie separation of the segments
of heliometers.
(3) Of large equatorials wo name first the great refractor at Large
Washington of 26-inche3 aperture and 32J-feet focal. length.^ The cqi^a-
mounting appears to be unworthy of the well-known excellence of toriais.
the object-glass. To illuminate the micrometer an assistant is Wash -
required to hold a lamp in his liand. ' No convenient means are inrton
provided for illuminating the declination axis; and in order to telesc'i;ie.
point the telescope in declination, the following elaborate process
lias to be performed : — *
"The instrumeht is brought into the meridian and set by the observer within
a degree by means of coarse divisions painted on the edge of the declination
circle. These divisions are rendered visible by lighting one or two of the pas
burners of tlie dome, and viewed by the astronomer with an npera-glass. Then
on assistant mounts by a ladder to a high platform and holds'a gas lamp near
the vernier, and the fine setting is accomplished by the observer seated in tlie
observing chair, the declination clamp and slow-motion screw being convenient
to his hand " l^Wa^hington Observations, 1S74, Appendix I.,*p. 33).
The polar and declination axes are of steel, only 7 inches in diameter
at the thickest point, and the driving arc, which is far toO small,
is placed at the lower end of this slender axis.' There must thus
be considerable liability to tremor' in right ascension. However
well the instrument may act in specially practised' hands with an
excellent Clark's micrometer {art. Micrometer, vol. xvi. p. 245),
the instrument must be considered wanting in the rigidity and
convenience which a raodern equatorial should possess. In his
official report on the instruments of European observatories New-
comb defends the want of solidity and convenience of this instru*
ment as compared with the Vienna telescope, because its smaller
axes (notwithstanding Grubb's anti-friction arrangements) permit
it to turn more easily and the mounting to be of far simpler design.
But at the time of Newcomb's visit the Vienna telescope had. not
been brought into work, and canno^-ha^e been in proper working
order if the motion in declination was so stiff as .he describes it, at
least when the present wTiter tested the instrument in Dublin that
motion was sur]:irisingly easy. . _
The great Pulkowa refractor (fig. 26) erected in" 1S85 is of 30- Pulkcwa
inches aperture and 45-feet focal length.- Tha object-glass is by refractor.
Clark, the mounting by the Repsolds. , The tube is cylindrical,
of riveted steel plate, Graduated in- thickness from the centre to its
extremities, and bolted by very powerful flanges to a strong short
cast-iron central tube, in which, as in Dr Engelmann's telescope
(fig. 23), the attachment to the flange of the declination axis i'"
placed as close as it can be to the axis of the tube Without intei-
I Described and figured in the Wa-KiH^^tcn OlsinaUons. 1CT4. App I.
i
TELESCOPE
151
Orutiba
for 36-
Inch re-
6»etor.
fisring with nys couvc;i;: :;; iijiu the objcotglnss to nny I'oiut in
the fielil of view. A new lealiue in this instiuincnl is tlic i>l.tnV>rni
at the lower end of the i>ol.ii a\s, wliere an a^islaut am vi, w il,..
.hour cii\.!e by one eye-pieee aiij tlie tiecliuation circle by
jSDOthcr (looking np the jicrforated polar a.\is), and
(where he can also set the telescope to any hour angl«
Inf one wheel, or to ;iny dccliDatiou by a second, with
toe greatest rise. The observer at the e\e end
can also lead otf the hour and ilccliuation circles
and coniniunicate qn;ck or slow motions to the
telescope bot.h in right ascension and dtclina-
tion by conveniently placed handles. The
eye end presents an appearance too com-
'(Hicated to be figured liere ; it has a mi-
cronteter and its illnininatiou for the
position circle, a micrometer head,
and a bright or dark field,' clamps
in right ascension and declination
and quick and slow motion in
the s.in:e, a tinder, ndcroscopes
for reading the hour and de- '
clination circles, an illuniin-
»ted dial showing sidereal
Hi
^ . . .Iv.
-Pnlkowa refractoi?,
pme and diiven by a galvanic current from the sideTeaTclockTand
toonter weights which can be removed when a spectroscope or other
heavy appliance is added. All these, although mating up an ap-
nuently complicated apparatus, arc conveniently arranged, and are
all necessary for the quick and easy working of so large " -v
an instniment. We have the authority of Otto Strave
for stating that in practice they are ail that can be,
desired. There is in this instrument a remarkably
fel^ant method of relieving the friction of the - '
polar axis. Let AA (fig. 27) be a section of
the polar axis ; it is then easy to adjust the
weight P of the circles, ic, attached to its ■'
lower end so that the centre of gravity '
,X of the whole mo\-ing parts of the
Instrument shall be in the vertical
fVV) of a line passing through ^
.fee apex of the hollowed fiange
pj at q, which flange forms
part of the polar a.xi3. If '
now a wheel W is forced
'np 'against q \vith a
pressure equal to '
the weight of the
moving part of
the instrument,
the whole weight
of the moving ^.^ ^
Mrt would rest upcn W in unstable eqnilibrium ; or if » prMsure
«, less than W, is employed, we have tne end friction on the lower
bearing removed tc an extent = R sin ^, and the fricHon on the
fteanngs of the upper pivot removed to the eirtent of F cos * —
where .> is the latitude of the place." The wheel W is therefore
mounted on -a guided rod, which U forced upwards by suitable
Jlevers and weights, and this relief of pressure 13 precisely propor-
jfaonal to the pressure on the respective bearings. The Repsolda
find It unnecessary to relieve the friction of the decKnaHon axis
Fig. 28 shows the equatorial mounting which Grabb designed
for thj great object-glass of 36-inche3 aperture that Messrs Clark
have completed for the Lick trustees, and which may be supposed
o express Grubb's latest ideas as to the mounting for a very laree
telescope • The Repsolds have a large driving circle at tho upiSr
end of the polar axis, thus avoiding torsion of the polar axis at
the expense of greatly increased length of the cross-head. Grubb
lliLJ?r*/r J'thl'Sn ° '''^"' '7?''?i!"e">t '<"■ printing on a ribbon of paper, bv
TOsare of the flnger, the readings of the number of revolutions and fvlctions
i^T^^Z i "" ''.?'' " "^^ ob«rvation, the ribbon being autcmaSy
B«TM fcrward for anotlier record cfttr each otservation. ""t^uj'
I by employing a driving arc gets the t-K\5fopc mu..h . : im r to 1
|iolar .i\is with an increased radius for driving, and lie makes 1
|>vLiravisa very large liullow steel or cast-iron cylimle
loision IS insensible. . Both Grubb and the
Rejisolds seem to think that for the tube 0
the telescope all necessary rigidity can "
be attained with cylindrical tubes of ■ .^'
riveted steel, the thickness of the /%.
successive sheets of which dimin- "
ish from the centre-piece out- '
wards without making
.the extremities, cone-
shaped.
¥* In these very'
large tele-
scopes
the
FlQ. 23.— Grubb'a mountiig for the Lick olj vt ^jla^i
arrangements for giving access to the eye end and foi followiiig~it3
diurnal motion have hitherto proved a source of dilhculty.DTTho
travelling stages of the new Polkowa telescope are tlio most man-
ageable and practical that have yet been contrived, but even tliey
leave much to be desired. For energetic work the standing pos.-'
tion is best, provided that the eye-piece is situated at the precise'
•height above the stage which is most conv(?nient for the observer,"
and that the altitude of the observed object is not greater than
60°.' For" altitudes above 60° a small chair with a back, the top
of which is stuffed for the head to rest upon, is th» best seat,
provided that the observer's e'ye can be kept at the height ol
the eye-piece. ' Accordingly Grubb has suggested the foUowina
plan for the observatory at Mount Hamilton, California, which
is to cover the Lick telescope. The whole floor, 70 feet in dia-
meter, is to be raised or lowered by water-power under control ol
the observer by means of electric keys, which act on a secondary
piece of mechanism, that in turn works the valves and reveraing
gear of the water-engines. Other water-engines, similarly con-
nected with keys at the observer's hands, rotate the dome and per-'
form the quick motions in right ascension and de<(ftnation.^ By
this arrangement a large instrument can bo worked with perfect
facility and comfort. There is only one other plan, that of suspend-
ing the observer's chair to the eye end, so that his eye is near tho
centre of motion of the chair. This is quite practicable for a 36-
inch telescope, and one observer, with the necessary guiding keys
at- hand, could easily work a telescope and dome of the largest
dimensions as quickly and with more ease than he could one o.- 10
or 12 inches aperture. Probabljf a nervous astronomer would prefer
a solid floor to work npon, as in Grubb's proposal ; in the latt=r
case the quickest working can only be accomplished by two person;!,
one seated on the platform at the foot of the polar axis and doin^;
the rough setting in right ascension and declination, the other
meanwhile adjusting the height of the floor and the azimuth of
the dome opening. . —
■j'° T^"^ ^"^^ equatorials there'must be in^ciistin'gniethods con-
siderable inconvenience from the extended width of the apparatu- ici.'ii
at the eye end. Were we called upon to design a great refractc- .or using
we should abolish all such apparatus and provide the observt arge
with a few conveniently placed small handles or keys for electrici" -eie-
connexions, and we should perform all motions of the telescop jcopeso
whatsoever by electromotors. Thero is no form of energy so con-
venient for the astronomer. It provides by incandescent lamps'
the most suitable light for his purpose, perfectly constant, giving
off little heat, and unaffected by wind ; and such a lit>ht can
be placed where required without the aid of reflectors°or any
complicated apparatus, and its .intensity can be regulated with^
ease and precision by changing the resistance of the condiictors.'
Moreover the electromotors can be as powerful or as delicate as we
please, and can be placed in the most convenient or snitable posi-
tions. The energy of a 5-horse-power steam-engine .working foi
ten hours can be stored in accumulators of no inconvenient dimen-
sions ready for use as required during a whole week or even 1 month,
and can be brought into action in force equivalent to several horse-
power to raise or lower the floor or tu-.-n the dome, or to perform
slow motions requiring no greater energy than that exercised by
the finger and thumb, or to Uluminate a lamp of i or j candle-
po.wer. There would be no limit to the rigidity which could be
given to such a teiescope.'as great ease of motion would not have
Prv';io.«;e(l
tif-3
T ^ Ajvoodcut showing these arrangements appeared iu the EMiru^n. »th
July 1861). -
152
to be considered, and we should abolish ^".'^''■"Pli^'*|'='l„^°'\;f 'H™
apparatus for the declination axis retaining it ""'y f° f « H^J
«i^ to save wear in the teeth of the dnnng arc FinaUy, mstead
of making the finder a short telescope attached to the eye end of
the instrument, we should give it a focal length equal to that of
the great object-glass, attaching the cell of its object-glass ripdly
fth^e cell of the^large object-gfaas and itl<=y»,^"i '"1^?^,''"" ^"h^,
of the main telescope, in order to secure the utmost ngidity in tne
relations of the axes of the two tele *
scopes. Such a finder would corre-
spond in eCBciency to that of the
Henry photographic . telescope,
and would be available as a guid-
ing telescope in photographic
work, or for keeping a star
exactly on the slit of a
spectroscope.
Typo D. The first important in
struments of typo D
Lassell's were Mr Lassell's re-
mount- flectors, the largest of
TELESCOPE
ing.
which, and the last
is represented in fig
29. The polar
axis is sum
ently rigid, but
the long and
comparative-
ly slende
Fio. 29.— LasscU's rcllector
forks which carry the pivots of the central cradle are elements of
instability, especially when the instrument is directed to an object
of considerable hour angle. There is practical confession of this
instability in the cross-bracing which connects the two forks, and
which must le removed if the telescope is pointed to an object
between the zenith and the elevated pole.
Com- The best example of tj-pe D is the reflecting telescope of 35-inches
IZs aperture ,designe5 by Mr. A. A. Common, with which his exquisite
mount, photographs of nebulce, &c., were made. The
in? principal preliminary conditions winch he laid
down as neceisary were the followingi t—
(1) no tube p-operly so called, to avoid
air-currents in the tube ; (2) no mass of
metal either lelow or at the side of
the line joining the large and small
mirrors, to avoid currents from
' "" ~~~ possible difference of tempera- ,
turo between the mass of ^
metal and the surrounding
air ; (3) an equatorial
mounting capable of
direction to any part
of the visible hea-
vens and of con-
tinued observation
past the meridian
without reversal ;
(4) ar efficient
means of supporting
the mirror without
flexure; (5) driving
clock; circles to find
oridcntifyan object,
and motions taken
to eye end ; (6) a so.-Com.nnn-., r.necthVs tcicscoro
moiiuling which i •« « , , , . »
will give Ibo greatest amount of steadiness with tho least amount
ofjrictiou. ,Fig. 30 is a section of the instrument m the piano
pf the meridian. DD, is a cast. iron hollow cylinder, accn-
ralely borrd out, attached to a strong losi> block. Dg is a cover
bolted 00 the bottom of this cylinder, ill the centre of which is a
lappniig steel pin D^, which enters a corresponding hole in tlio
tottoiu of the polar axis K.and serves .is the lower pivot ot
TjIoiiIWk Nolvft K >:>■. V'pt »«xix p. 3S<
the polar axis. The cyUndrical pa.t of the polar axis is accu-
rately turned to a diameter one-eighth of an inch less than the outeri
cvlinder, and the otherwise severe friction on the pin Dj is reUeved
bv filling in the space between D and E with mercury, so lar as
sufficient nearly to float the whole moving part of the telescope.
The upper elbow-shaped part of the polar axis Ei is flanged and
bolted to the lower part. In the section at right angles to that
exhibited in fig. 30 this elbow-shaped part is T-shaped, and the
cross of tho T is bored to receive the declination axis ; and, a3
the elbow puts the polar axis considerably out of balance, the
T-shaped head is carried forward of the axial line about U inches,
so that the whole weight of the telescope above just restores the
balance. Two heavy weights X, X counterpoise the eye end F
with the four braced tubes T, T which support it. B is the
declination circle. It is impossible to describe this fine instrument
adequately within our Umits ; we mention as specially worthy of
study the method of supporting the mirror and the eminently
inEcnious and practical ■ form of the observatory, and refer the
reader to Common's iUustrated account of the instrument in Hem.
■'^'Thfre is^also an almirable Counting of type D designed by Lord Ros..e-s
Rosse for his 3-foot reflector at Birr Castle, described by hun m 3-fooi
mi. Trans., vol. clxxi. p. 153. The instrument is planned on nioent.
fhe broad lines of Lassell's telescope (fig. 29), but the badly planned ing.
and weak fork of the latter is replaced by » thoroughly "g-j tent
fork made of boiler plate a quarter of an inch thick, firmly riveted
to angle iron of 2Jx2JxA inch scantling alon. each angle, the
whole, as we have proved by trial being exceedingly rigid It
would be an improvement to adopt Mr Common s plan of putt ng
the declination axis a little out of the line of prolongation of the
polar axis, and thus disiienso with tho counter-weight ; and we
Should prefer hollow steci tubes with push and pull bracing lather
than the angle iron rods and bracing which form the tube.
In the rroacdiu^s of the Royal Dublin Society (vol. ii. p. 862) Tjpe E.
Grubb describes a " siderostatio telescope ■•>vhich forms a good
elementury example of type E. In fig. 31 TT is the tube of a tele- Grubb s
— y l^^ ^.1^^^^^ aperture, which is mounted,to rotate s.dero-
about its axis, the tatter forming the polar axis. MM slatio
is a plane mirror reflecting rays from a star S to he tele.cop.
,bject-glass, so that its image can be viewed from the
eye-piece at E. The star is retained in the field by
the clock C. Stars of difl-ereut declination can bo
viewed by rotating the mirror on its axis G, and
in different hour angles by rotating the tube
upon its axis. The instrument m European
latitudes cannot command a view ot the
■ heavens between the elevated pole and the
■ zenith unless tho distance OG is made
exceedingly great ; even then on y a
' limited range beyond the zenith 13
' possible. The instrument is pri-
^ marily intended for solar spectro-
' scopy, and thus these draw-
^ backs do not apply. The
resulting ad-
,. s vantage is
•■ .•' that the ob-
.. ,' server may bo
.•'* in complete
\f daikuess aud
his observa-
tions are not
interrupted by
changeof posi-
tion.
In CovtfiCcs l.ofwy's
Jicutlvi for the equator-
year 1SS3, vol lulcoude
pp. 735-741, M. Loewy gives an account of an iiistiument
I
Fio. 31 — Orulib's siderosUitic telescope.
xcvi. pp. iJJUi, 1"- uutnjf (i.>io .■■■ ■»'■ — ,■•;-■, ■■"".;■. ,
which he calls an "equatorial coudc," designed (1) lo attain gieatcr
stability aud so to measure larger angles than is geDcr.illy possible
with the oidinary equatorial ; (2) to enable a single astronomer to
•point tho telescope and make observations in any part of the sky
vitho.it changing his position ; (3) to abolish the usual expensive
dome and to substitute a covered shed on wheels (which can be lun
back at pleasure), leaving the telescope in the open air, the observei
alone being sheltered. These conditions are fulfilled in the m.nn.
shown in fig. 32. El> is the polar axis, routing on bm.ngs at Lam
P. The object-glass is at O. the cye-p.ecc at E. 'Tbeie ,s a plane
mirror at M, which reflecU rays converging from ""= object. eIa^
to thecye-picco at E. A second iniiror N. placed at 45 to the
optical axis of the object-glass nllects rays . on, a sta. »' '"^ lo';!
but by rotating the box «h.ch contains this m.iror on "' J » ^ of
■its supporting tube T a sUr of any declination ..->i. ''>^ o>«-'\"-
and by combiliin- this motion with rotation of ''^ Po'- »^'^
astronomer seated at E is ablo to view any object win tev e in the
visible heavens, except those situated between 10" and 1-" hour
TELESCOPE
153
ingle. An hour circle attached to EP and a declination circle
atached to the box containing the mirror N, both of which can be
read or set from E, complete the essentials of the instrument. Its
mechanical details present no creat difficulty, and
are most conveniently arranged. But we entertain
N_ grave doubts as to the practical value cf the
"x^ instrument, not on mechanical, but on optical
, '\ grounds. There must be a certain loss of
\ ^. I'S'it from two additional refleiions ; but
\ \ that could be tolerated for the sake of
\ \ other advantages, provided that
\ \ the mirrors could be made soS-
\ ciently perfect optical planes,
*\ A few years ago it was very
diiScult to obtain an op
torn]
tically perfect plane
6 inches in diameter,
and having obtained
it thera remained the
further diiScuIty of
mounting it so that
in all positions it
should be free from
, T . ,. » . , flexure. By makinff
i-I«^scoudeeqaator,aL the mirrors^f sUveref
glass, one-fourth of their diameter in thickness, JUL Henry have
not only succeeded in mounting them with all necessary rigidity
free from flexure hut- hr-^ given them optically true plane sur-
feces, notwithstanding their large diameters, viz., 11 and 157
inchtrs. The present writer tested the equatorial coude on double
stars at the Paris observatory in 1SS4, and his last doubts as to
the practical value of the instrument were dispelled. He has never
seen more perfect opticsd deSnition in any of the many telescopes
he has employed, and certainly never measnr?d'a celestial object in
such favourable conditions of physical comfort The easy position
of the observer, the convenient position of the handles for quick
snd slow motion, and the absolute rigidity of the mounting leave
little to be desired. In futnre instruments the ol^ect-glass will be
placed outside the mirror N, so that both the silvered mirrors will
be protected from exposure to the outer air, aud prolxibly.will
retain the brilliancy of their surfaces for a long perioi
Adjushnnit of Oie 'EqvatoriaL
Adjust- Let us take the usual case, that of an equatorial of type U. (1)
raent of By means of an azimuth compass, or, better, by the shadow of a
«iaa- plumb line at apparent noon, lay down a meridian line on the upper
surface of the stone pier, or other foundation, previously built for the
instrument- (2) Employ this meridian line to set up the instrument
and with it the polar axis approximately in the azimuth of the
meridian, which can be tested by stretching a wire through the
Mntres of the bearings of the polar axis, aud dropping a plumb
line frem the extremities of the" wire upon the meridian line. If
this is carefully done when the azimuth adjustment is near the
middle of its range all desirable accuracy in this preliminary de-
sideratum will be secured. (3) Place the'polar axis approximately
at the altitude of the pole. This is very easily done for an instru-
ment in which the polar axis is cylindrical or is encased £n a box
with an upper side parallel to that axis (as in Grubb's or Cooke's
equatorials). Prepare a right-angled triangle of wood of which
the acute angles represent the latitude and co-latitude of the place.
Lay the hypothenuse of this triangle upon the line of the instru-
ment parallel to the polar axis (or the wire of operation 2) mth the
angle equal to the co-latitude nest to the elevated pole, and change
thfe inclination of the polar axis till a mason's level placed on the
side of the triangle opposite to the angle of the latitude shows the
side m question to be horizontal. (4) Adjust the movable micro-
meter web to coincidence with the axis of the position circle by bi-
secting the image of a distant object and reading the number of
revolutions or fractions of a revolution at two different readings of
the position circle lEO' apart The mean of these two readings is
the reading for coincidence with the axis of the position circle.
Set the micrometer to this mean. (5) Adjust the polar axis more
exactly to the required altitude as follows. Point the telescope to
a well-known star not far from the equator and near the meridian,
and turn the position circle so that the imago of the star by the
diurnal motion runs along the web. Read the declination circle
Now reverse the telescope to the other side cf the polar axis and
D^ct the same star again, and again read the declination circle.
The mean of the two readings is tue star's instrumental apparent
declination ; the difference of the two readings is twice the index
error. To eliminate this latter it is only necessary to shift the
vernier of the declination circle by the screws provided for the
purpose, without unclamping in declination, till the circle reads
the star's instrumental apparent declination This bein<» done,
select another star near the meridian and compute its apparent
Jechnatioi. (allowing for re.'raction). Set tl:e telescope to this com-
puted r.;adiliganJ'jlami>in dsclination ; then cause an assistant to
change the altitude of the polar axis (by tnc screw lor tne puipos^
till the star is bisected by the micrometer wire. (6) Select any
convenient known star about six hours from the meridian ; ccrnputo
its apparent declination (allowing for refraction) ; and set the tele-,
scope to this reading in declination. Cause the assistant to turn the
slow motion in azimuth till the image of the star is bisected by the
micrometer web. (7) Repeat operation 5 and make final corrections
if necessary. (8) Repeat operation 6 with sUrs both east and west
of the meridian, and readjust azimuth if necessary. (9) Turn the
position circle of the micrometer 90°; place the declination axis
nearly horizontal ; clamp the telescope in right ascensioa ; and ob-
serve the time of transit of a known star across the web of tha
micrometer. Compute the true hour angle of the star from tho
known error of the micrometer and the star's right ascension, and
scf the vernier so that the hour circle shall read the computed
hour angle.. By these means, with a previously prepared pro-
gramme, tho writer has frequently completely adjusted an equa-
torial in less than an hour, so far as operations 4 to 9 were concerned.
There still remain two instrumental errors of the stand. (Ij
The line joining the optical centre of the lens with the axis of
rotation of the position circle may net bo at right andcs to the
declination axis. (2) The declination axis may not be at right
angles to the polar axis. la modern equatorials it is usual to
leave these adjustments to the' maker, as to leave them to ths
astronomer would be incompatible with the greatest stabilih- of the
instrument In a good instrument these errors will certainly be
extremely small and have no influence on its efficiency for practical
purposes. The methods for determining their amount are given in
most works on practical astronomy.'
There remain txo important optical adjustments which must 1m
very carefully attended to, viz., tha centring of the lenses of tha
object-glass relative to each other and the centring of the axis of tho
object-glass relative to. that of the eye-piece. The former consists
in placing the lenses of the object-glass so that the centres of curva-
ture of their surfaces shall lie in one straight line, which line is
the axis of the object-glass. This operation is so delicate and
requires such special experience and skill that it should b« left to
the maker of the object-glass. An elegant method of testing this
adjustment was given by i
Wollaston in Phil. Trcns.,
1S22, p. 32. If the object-
glass itself is perfectly I
centred, the test of the I
centring of its axis with [
that of the eye-piece is very I
easy ; are the diffraction rincs
which siirronnd the image of F'S- 23 Fig. 34
a bright star shown as In fie. 33, or is there flare, that is, are tiie
rings extended on one side as in fig. 34 ? If the latter is the cise, '
that side of the object-glass towards which the flare is direct J is
too far from the eye-pieco, and should be brought
towards it by the appropriate screws or other
means provided by the maker. In a good object-
glass perfectly centred, on a night of steadv de.
tinition, a bright star in focus should appear as
in fig. 33.
A useful apparatus lor the adjustment of cen- ,
triug is a small telescope (fig. 35) whose axis is in
the centre of and at right angles to a flat piece of
brass in the shape of an equilateral triangle fitted
with screws at the three angles. To use this in-
strument, place the points of tie screws on the
object-glass as in fig. 36, so that two angles of the
triangle are in contact with the inner edge of the
cell of the object-glass, and adjust
the screw a so that the cross-wires
in the common focus of the object-
glass and eye-piecfl of the small
telescope coincide with the image
of the cross -wires of the micro- ;
meter of the ielescope which mark I
the axis of rotation of the position I
circle. Now, keeping the samel
angles of the brass triangle in con-
tact with the cell, move the small
centring telescope round the cir-
cumference of the object glass and
note where there is the greatest de-
parture from coincidence. Correct p... „ ,, .,„.^„^„ ,„ .„, -,
this departure half by the screw a Tn'S o?iift;7»gTa"Sl/°tja'S:
of the small centring telescope and
half by the centring scrc>vs' of the ebject-gl.iss. The adir.stment
is perfect when the centring telescope can he moved round the
whole periphery of the object-glass in the above manner whilst its
cross-wires continue to bisect the trosS-wires of the micrometer of
^
Rg. 35.
T
\Ch^a\a:ct.}'ri:c:^^n!'>':dSp'ttricalAilrmOKil,\e).i..:ii,.-j7«-2-i'^. D.-jucov.
Sphencat Aslramma, p. 145 ; anj Loomis, Prtclktil A^nnoms, pp. SS-3i
\XIII — 20
154
T E L — T E L
the relescope. If after this adjustment has been perfected the dif-
fraction rinffs are si ill not circular round the images ol stars, the
fault is in the cent r.ng of the l.-iises of the object glass with respect
'to each othT. and the obi-c< glass should be sent to the maker for
'rectification.
Unvm' The means employed to .-.lust an equatorial telesco™ ro r''.o>v
•lock." the diurnal motion of a star ubv,ou»ly must not reseraoio the
intermittent motion of au ordinary clock. Miunerous H„vicea
.ha\c been contiived fo;
fprod'icing uniforin rao-
^tion. But the limits of
this artii-le will only
illo» us to refei briefly
te a fevi of those most
'comni"nly iH use Fig
"j; r-pr.jsent3 Frauu
hofei s governor On
its a.tis C IS a pinion
driven by a train of
wheels. The axis carries
'an aim BB, at the ex
Itrcmities of winch, at-
'taclii'J by springs/ /'_,
are the "eights D, D'.
\\'\wn these weights ac-
quire n certain velocity
of rotation the centri- ., _ ^ ,
*: , .. ,«:...» Ho 37 —Fraunhofcr - governor
fugal lorco is sulhcient "" " " . , - ..
lo cau:,e tha weights to tly out and rub agains' the inside ot the
r yliudcr AA, and their velocity 13 checked. Ir 4ead of a cyliiiJer,
tiie balls may rub ag^iinat the inside of a liollov cone, and by raising
'orloweiiiig the aMs C the contact of the weights si ith the cone may
ile made to take i>la.-c when the balls have slightly greater or less
.velocify and thus the rate of the clock is regulated A nunh
better airangenient is a modification of Watfs gnveru.T, cniployed
by GruhU and Cuke The governoi ball.^ y. ,j (hg 3») r.pose on
the points// I, of thcrniKi; till they re.ach then normal velocity,
when they llyouuvaldsaud bring the po.nl .'^ (tippe.i vnth leather)
into contact with the friction plate p Th.se docks are simple
in construction and act very well Ncwconib in the Washington
equatorial has rn.|doyed a long suspen.led conical pendulum ; when
tins pendulum m the least exceeds its uutnul velocity (that is, its
normal departure from the verticall it establishes an electrical con=
tact which brings friction to bear, and thus reduces the power
applied to the pendulum. There is occasional tendency to elliptical
motion, and the clock is otherwise troublesome. In the Repsolds
driving clock of the 30 inch Pulkowa refractor the conical pendulum
is reversed, being a heavy weight at the top of a vertical steel rod,
kept in conical rotation by a pin at its upper end, which enters »
slot in a revolving arm. The rod is in fact a spring of such a form
as to cause the revolutions to bo nearly or perfectly isochronoua
whatever the angle of the .one of motion , the clock is therefore,
within limits, independent of the power anplied to it ot the forca
to be overcome
Many forms ot an fans nave neen suggested ; probably the best u
the modihcation ol Foucaulfs proposed by Hdger fsee IfontAJy,
Nultccs HAS. vol xlvi. p. 155),
wliich IS shown in fig 39 E is
the axis of rotation , C and D ara
fans that are pulled towards the
spindle E by chronometer springs
in the boses A and B. The fans
fly out symmetrically when tha
velocity ejceeds 25 oi 30 revolu
lions per second , the increased
resistance of the an thus pro-
duced clie. ks the velocity of ro-
tation By means of the small
wt:ights W. VV attached to arms
on the fans Hilger states that il
IS possible to adjust this governoi
so that It shall even lose by an
increase of the diiviiig weight.
For the most refined work none
of these governors can be said to
bo perfect , none would be even
tolerable as a clock for astrono-
mical time-keeping purposes. It
is possible that the elaburato
Cir. iiuichdnving clock may give
hitler ivMilts, but its construc-
tion IS too complicated to be fre-
quently repeated (see, for a de-
scription of it, the Greenwich
Ohcnntwns for 186S). The only
way in which nearly perfect uni-
forni motion can be realized is to
contnd it in some waj[ from a
swinging pendulum. This is done
in Bond's spring governor ' and by Grubb, the latter employnng tn«
arm of a remontoir train connected with a dead-beat escapement ta
brin" friction to bear on a revolving plato connected with the axi^
of his governor (sec fig 33). The best existing driving dock is
probably that at Lord Crawford's observatory at Dun Echt.j An
account of its performance is given by Di Copeland in VicrUl-
jahrsschr aslron Ocsellsch.. 16 Jahrg., p. 305 In this clock gain
of a hundredth of a second, or even less, mtioduccs increased fric-
tion on ihe revoUuig disk during the next second, or until tlio
paiu has been corrected A still more perfect clock could probably
be made on a snnilat plan by abolishing the clock weight and
making the origin of power an electromotoi, the curiont being cut
oil m a way similar to that in the Dun Echt clock if the clock ol
continuous motion gets in advance of the ordinal} clock.
For information on clockwork of equaioiials .and telcscopo mounts
ings generally, >ee KonkoU's FractUchc Anlciluwj ziir Jiifl'-Jhinii
aslron. r.'-"'iM'L-ujcu *!• ^^>l
Fio 39.— Hilger s ir.oiiification of.
Foucaulfs au'.fait.
•TELESPUORUS, bishop of Rome from about 128 till
;-,bout 137, succeeded Sixtus I and was followed by
Iljginus. Eu.sebitis in his ILitori/ gives the. date of tlic
martyrdom of TclesiiLorus as the first year ol Antoninus
l'iiis'(13S) and in hi.s C>"oriul>- o-i the eighteenth year of
llailri.in (13'i)
TELFORD, TiioMAS (17,=>7 lf!3l), tivil engineer, -ivas
the son of a shcijherd in Eskdale. Uunilricsshirc. and was
boru in the valU-y ol the Me.yget, 9th August 1707 Fmni
early childhood he was employed as a herd, cccasioually
alteudmg tho parish -school of WeslerUirk, where his
quickness and diligence helped to make up tor his lack
of oi.nurtunity On being apprenticed, at tho age of
fifteen", to a stone mason at Langhohii, ho found luistiro
not oii'y to gain an acquaintanco with Laliii, Fr.'.nch, and
Cerm.ii., but to gratitj IKu lucrary tastes by a wide variety
of rcadi'n". Tn his cnfh ni,nihi»d ho was nunh yiven tn
the writing of verse, a poem of some length on EskdaH
appeared in 17S-1 in tho Potlual Miisntin. published at
Hawick ; under the signature of " Eskdalc Tani" he cotM
tnbutcd verses to Ruddinian's WnUt/ .V.iyct./Hc , and h^
addressed an epistle in rhyme to F.urns, Mhich wAi
published in Currie's /.-/c of the poet liut.thesc' .poetn.il
effusions were of comparatively little value. In 1 ■ i?OI
Tellord ^ent to Edinburgli, where he was employed iii
the erection of houses in the "new" town, and occtipieil
nuieh ot his spare time in learning architectural drawing;
Two years later he proceeded to Loudon, finding cmi'loy.
inent in the erection of Somerset House. 1 lining in I7i?*
superintended the erection of a house for the commissioner,
at Fortsinouth dockyard, he ne.xt repaired the castle of
' Koiil.iily, f'rard^ihc AnUUtinj zur Anit.Uuiij il:,lrjn. i\iJil.*«t
unijcti. llriiiiswiek, 1SS3
■ Miiilhlfi Nfii:,' It. A .?;'Noveniler 1^1^
T E L — T E L
155
Sir W Pulteney, member for Shrewsbury, who conceived
sucii a high opinion of his talents that he got him made
surveyor of public works for the county of Salop His
earliest bridge was that across the Severn at Montford,
finished in I "92 In the following year he was appointed
engineer of the Ellesmere Canal, which led to his being
employed for the chief canals subsequently constructed m
Great Britain, including the Caledonian (1804). the Glou-
cester and Berkeley (1818), the Grand Trunk (1822), the
Macclesdeld (1824), and the Birmingham and Liverpool
Junction (1825). He was consulted in 1606 by the king
of Swedea regarding the construction of the Gotha Canal
between Lake Wener and the Baltic, and, his plans having
been adopted, he nsited the country in 1810 to superintend
some of the more important excavations In 1803 he
had been appointed engineer for the construction of 920
miles of roads in the Highlands of Scotland, a great part
through very difficult country Of the numerous bndges
bmit in this line of roads mention may be specially made
of that across the Tay at Dunkeld. Subsequently he
perfected the road communication between London and
Scotland and the northern towns of England. An under-
taking of equal magnitude and importance with that in
the Highlands of Scotland was a system of roads through
the more inaccessible parts of Wales, which involved the
erection of the magnificent suspension bndge across the
Menai Str&its, begun in 1820, and the Conway bndge, be-
gun in 1822. For the Austnan Government Telford built
the Polish road from Warsaw to Brest. While the fame of
Telford rests chiefly on his road and canal engineering,
and the erection of the numerous bridges and aqueducts
which this involved, he also did good work in harbour
construction. In 1790 he was employed by the British
Fishery Society to inspect the harbours on the north-east
coast of Scotland , and, besides constructmg the important
fishing harbour at Pulteneytowu, Wick, he greatly unproved
those at the other pnncipal fishing stations. Ilis import-
ant works of this kind were, however, his improvement of
the harbours at Aberdeen and Dundee, and the construc-
tion of the St Katherine's docks at London. In 1828-30
he drained the north level of the eastern Fen district, an
area of 48,000 acres. The erection of the Dean Bridge,
Edinburgh, and of the Broomielaw Bridge, Glasgow, and
the improvement (1833-34) of Dover harbour were the
principal achievements of his later years He died on 2d
September 1834. and was buried in Westminster Abbey
Telford was never marriwl For twenty-one years be lived at
the Salopian coiTee house, afterwards the Ship Hotel, Channg
Cross He was a fellow of the Royal Societies of London and of
Edinburgh, and was aanaaliy elected president of the Institi'tion
of Ci^ Eugineere from its commencement. He received the
Swedish order of knighthood " of Gnstavus Vasa.
See Telford'8 MemoiTs. written by himBelT and edited by JollD RickoaD
ns3d) : also Smlles's Livts o/the Enginan.
TELL. The story of William Tell's skill in shooting
i.% and striking the apple which had been placed on the
head of his little son by order of GessJer, the tyrannical
Austrian bailiff of Uri, is so closely bound up with the
legendary history of the origin of the Swiss Confederation
that they must be considered together Both appear first
in the 15th century, probably as results of the war for
the Tcggenburg inheritance (1436-50); for the intense
hatred of Austria, greatly increased by her support of the
claims of Zurich, favoured the circulation of stories which
assumed that Swiss freedom was of immemonal antiquity,
while, as the war was largely a struggle between the civic
and rural elements in the Confederation, the notion that
the (rural) Schwyzers were of Scandinavian descent at once
separated them from and raised them above the German
inhabitants of the towns.
The Tell story is first found in a ballad the first nine
stanzas of which (containing the story) were certainly
written before 1474. There is no mention made of the
names of the bailiff or of his master, or of the hat placed
on a pole. Tell is called "the first Confederate," and his
feat Ls treated as the real and only reason why the Con-
federation was formed and the tyrants driven out of the
land It IS probably to this ballad that Melchior Russ of
Lucerne (who began his Chronicle in 1482) refers when,
in his account (from Justinger) of the evil dee<Js of the
bailiffs m the Forest districts, he excuses himself from giv-
ing the story. He goes on to narrate how Tell, irritated
by his treatment, stirred up his fnends against the governor,
who seized and bound him and was conveying him by boat
to his castle on the Lake of Lucerne, when a storm arose,
and Tell, by reason of his great bodily strength, was, after
being unbound, given charge of the rudder on his promts*
to bring the boat safely to land. He steers it towards a
shelf of rock, called m Russ's time Tell's Platte, springs on
shore, shoots the bailiff dead with nis crossbow, and goes
back to Uri, where he stirs up the. great strife which
ended in the battle of Morgarten. In these two accounts,
which form the basis of the Un version of the origin of
the Confederation, it is Tell and Tell only who is the actor
and the leader. We first hear of the cruelties of Austrian
bailiffs in the Forest distncts in the Bemete Chronich of
Conrad Justinger (1420). No names or details are given,
and the dates are different m the two recensions of the
Chronicle as " olden days before Bern was founded " {i.e.,
before 1191) and 1260. Several details, but only one
name, are added in the De Nobditate et Rusticitate Dudogvi
(cap. 33) of Felix Hemmerlin, a canon of Zunc^ who
wrote it after 1451 and before 1454 ; in this last year he
was imprisoned by the Schwyzers, whom he had repeatedly
insulted and attacked m his books. According to him,
the men of Schwyz and of Dnterwalden were the first to
rise, those of Uri following suit much later. But neither
Justmger nor Hemmerlin makes any allusion to Tell or his
feat.
The Tell story and the " atrocities " story are first found
combined in a MS. known as the While Book of Samen.
They are contained in a short chromcle written between
1467 and 1476, probably about 1470, and based on oral
tradition Many details are given of the oppressions of
the bailiffs we hear of (Jessler, of the meeting of Stou-
pacher of Schwyz, Fiirst of Un, and a man of Nidwald at
the RiitU, — in fact, the usual version of the legend. To
give an instance of tyranny in Uri, the author tells us the
story of the refusal of " der ThaJl " to do reverence to the
hat placed on a pole, of his feat of skill, and of his shoot-
ing the bailiff, Gessler, from behind a bush in the "hollow
way " near Kiissnacht. Tell is represented as being one of
those who swore at the Riitli to drive out the oppressors ;
but the narrative of his domgs is merely one incident in
the general movement which began quite independently
of him. The chronology is very confused, but the events
are placed after Rudolph's election to the empire in 1273.
This is the only account in which Tell is called "der
Thall," which name he himself explains by sajing, "If I
were sharp (ufttojr) I should be called something else and
not der Tall," t.e.. the simpleton or slow-witted man.
The only other known instances of the Uri version of
the legend relating to the origin of the Confederation
are the Latin hexameters of Glareanus (1515), in which
Tell is compared to Brutus as "assertor patriffi, virdex
tiltorque tyrannum," and the Umerspiel (composed in
1511-12), a play acted in Uri, in which Russ's version is
followed, though the bailiff, who is unnamed, but announces
that he has been sent by Albert of Austria, is slain in the
"hollow way." Tell is the chief of the Riitli leaguers, and
it is his deed which is the immediate occasion of the rising
against the oppressors, which is dat«i in 1 296. Mutius
156
T S L — T E L
(1540) is the latest -writer who, in his description of the
origin of the Confederation, does not mention Tell and his
act The two stories are now firmly bound together ; the
version contained in the White Booh is the accepted one,
though small additions in names and dates are often made.
The task of filling np gaps, smoothing away incon-
dstencies, rounding off the tale, was accomplished by Giles
Tbchttdi (q.v.), whose recension was adopted, with a few
alterations, by Von Miillsr in his History of the Confederor
lion (1780). In the final recension of Tschudi's Chrbnicle
(1734-36), which, however, differs in many particulars
from the original draft still preserved at Zurich, we are
told how Albert of Austria, with the view of depriving the
Forest lands of their ancient freedom, sent bailiffs (among
them Gessler) to Uri and Sohwyz, who committed many
tyrannical acts, so that finaOy on 8th November 1307, at
Oie Rvitli, Werner von Stauffacher of Schwyz, Walter
FuTst of Uri, Arnold von Melchthal in Unterwalden, each
with ten companions, among whom was William Tell, re-
solved on a rising to expel the oppressojs, which was fixed
for New Year's day 1308. A few days later (November
18) the TeU incident takes place (described according to
the White Book version), and on the appointed date the
general rising. Tschudi thus finally settled the date,
which had before varied from 1260 to 1334. He utterly
distorts the real historical relations of the Three Lands,
though he brings in many real historical names, their owners
being made to perform historically impossible acts, and in-
troduces many small additions and corrections into the story
as he had received it In particular, while in his first draft
he speaks of the bailiff as Gryssler — the usual name up
to his time, except in the White Book and in Stumpffs
Chronicle of 1548 — in his final r€cension he calls him
Gessler, knowing that this was a real name. Later writers
added a few more particulars, — that Tell lived at Burglen
and fought at Morgarten (1598), that he was the son-in-
law of Fiirst and had two sons (early 18th century), kc.
Johannes von Miiller gave a vivid description of the oath
at the Riitli by the three (TeU not being counted in), and
threw Tschudi's version into a literary form, adding one
or two names and adopting that of Hermann for Gessler,
calling him of "Bruneck.'' Schiller's play gave the tale a
world-wide renown.
The story was, on the ground of want of evidence,
regarded as suspicious by GuiUiman in a private letter of
1607, and doubts were expressed by the brothers Iselin
(1727 and 1754) and by Voltaire <1754) ; but it was not
till 1760 that the legend was definitely attacked, on the
ground of its similarity to the stor- of To'iiko (see below),
in an anonjrmous pamphlet by Freudenberger, a Bernese
pastor. This caused great stir ; it was publicly burnt by
order of the Government of Uri, and many more or less
forged proofs and "documents were produced in favoiir of
TfclL The researches of J. E. Kopp i first cleared up the
real early history of the league, and overthrew the legends
of the White Book and Tschudi. Since then many writers
have worked in the same direction. Vischer (1867) has
carefully traced out the successive steps in the growth of
the legend, and Eochhoh: (1877) has worked out the real
history of Gessler as shown in authentic documents. The
general result has been to show that a mythological marks-
man and an impossible bailiff bearing the name of a real
family have been joined with confused and distorted re-
miniscences of the events of 1245-47, in which the names
of many real persons have been inserted and many un-
anlhenticatcd acts attributed to them.
The story of the skilfnl marksman who succeeds in striking some
email object placed on the head of a man or child is very widely
' Dommmls for the Bistory of IKt federal AUiamxs, 1835 and
USl and his History, part ii., 1847.
spread : we find it in Denmark (Tokko), Norway (two versions),
Icelaod, Holstein, on the Rhine, and in England (William of
Cloudesley). How it camo to be localized in Uri we do not I<now ;
possibly, tiirough the story of the Scandinavian colonization of
Schwyz, the tale was fitted to some real local hero.
The alleged proofe of the existence of a real William TeU in Uri
in the 14tn centnry-fcreak down hopelessly. (1) The entries in
the parish registers are forged. (2) As to the TeU chapels— (a)
that in the *'hoUow way" near Kiissnacht was not kiiown to
Melchior Ross and is first mentioned by Tschndi (1570). (6) That
on Tell's Platte is also first mentioned in Tschudi. The document
which alleges that the chapel was built by order of a -"lands*
gemeinde" held in 1388, at which 114 men were present who had
been personaUy acquainted with Tell, was never heard of tUl 1759.
The procession in boats to the place where the chapel stands may
be very old, but is not connected with TeU tiU about 1582. (c)
The chapel at Biirglen is known to have been founded in 1582.
Other documents and statements in support of the TeU story hava
even less claim to credit It has been pointed out above that with
two exceptions the baiUff is always called Gryssler or Grissler, and
it was Tschndi who popularized the name of Gessler, though
Grissler occurs as late at 1765. Kow Gessler is the name of a real
famUy, the history of which from 1250 to 1513 has been worked
out by Rochholz, who shows in detaU that no member ever played
the part attributed to the bailiff in the legend, or could have done
so, and that the Gesslers could not have owned or dwelt at the
castle of Kiissnacht ; nor could they have been called Von Bruneck.
In the Umerspiel the name of the baUifTs servant who guarded
the baton the pole is given as Heintz Vbgely, and we know that
Friedrich VogeU was the name of one of the chief military otficcra
of Peter von Hagenbseh, who from 1469 to 1474 administered for
Charles the Bold, duke of Burgundy, the lands (Alsace, 4c.) pledged
to him by Sigismund of Hapsburg. Now Hagenbach is known to
have committed many cruelties like those attributed to the bailiSs
in the legend, and it has been plausibly conjectured that his case
has reaUy given rise to these stories, especially when we find that
the Confederates had a hand in his capture and execution, that
in a document of 1358 Hagenbachs and Gesslers appear side by
side 83 witnesses, and that the Hagenbachs had frequent trans-
actions with the Hapsburgs and their vassals.
Ampn? the vast niuiiber of books and pamphlets on the Tell story, the two
most to De recommended are W. vischer, DU Sage vtm der Bifrtiung der WaXd*
statu, Leipsic, 1S67, and E. L. RochhoU, Tell «nd Gesatcr, with a volojne o(
documents 1250-1513. Heilbronn, 1877. Convenient summaries ot the ocm.
troversy will be found in any niodern book on Swiss history, and more partlca.
larly in Q. von Wvss. Ueberd. G«cA. d. drti Lander~Uri, SeJiVfyz, u Vnitrtcaiden
—in dtn Jahren ISIi ISJS, Zurich. 1868: Alf Hober. IHe WtilditdtU bii ruf
festen SfgHtndutui ihrer Bidoenosprnschafl. mil ein^Tn Anhange <itber die ge^hieht-
liche SttUwngd^s fVilh. re», "Innsbruck. 1861 ; Albert Rilliet, Les Originea de la
•CtmfideTatvm ^u^se^ Hwtmre et U^ende, Geneva, 1869. (W. A- B. C.)
TELLER, WiLHELM Abraham (1734-1804), was the
son of the Leipsic clergynrin, Eomanus Teller, who edited
the earUer volumes of the Englisches Bibelwerk (in 19 vols.,
1 749-70), an adaptation for German readers of the exe-
getical works of WUlet, Ainsworth, Patrick, Poole, Henry,
and others. TeUer was bom at Leipsic on 9th January
1734, and studied philosophy and theology in the uni-
versity there. Amongst the men whose influence mainly
determined his theological position and line of work was
J. A. Emesti. His writings present rationalism in its
course of development from Biblical snpematuralism to
the borders of deistical naturalism. His first learned pro-
duction was a Latin translation of Kennicott's Dissertation
cm the State of the Printed Hehreu) Text of the Old Testament
(1756), which was followed fJie next year by an essay
in which he expounded his • own critical principles. In
1761 he was appointed pastor and professor of theology
in the university of Helmstadt. Here he pursued his ex-
egetical, theological, and historical researches, the results
of which appeared in his Lehrbuch des chnstlichen Glavbens
(1764). This work threw the entire theological world
into comanotion, as much by the novelty of its method as
by the heterodoxy of its matter, and more by its omissions
than by its positive teaching, though everywhere the
author seeks to put theolo^cal doctrines in a decidedly
modern form. In consequence of the storm of indignation
the book provoked, Teller eagerly accepted an invitation
from the Prussian cultus minister to the post of prebendary
of Kiln on the Spree, witli a seat in the Berlin consistory
(1767) Here he found himself in the company of the
rationatistic theologians of Prussia — Sack, Spalding, and
T E L — T E M
157
others — and became one of the leaders of the rationalistic;,
partr, and one of the chief contributors to Kicolai's AUge-
meine DeuUoke Bihlioth(k. Teller vras not long in' making
use of bis freer position in Berlin 1111772 appeared the
most popular of his books, Worterbuch zum Neum, Testa-
ment (Cth ed., 1S05). The object of this work is to recast
the language and ideas of the New Testament and give
them the form of ISth-century illuminism. Thus Heb.
yiij S signifies the permanence of Christ's teaching, and, as
the New Testament has no word for Christianity, "Christ "
may mean sometimes His person and at others His doctrine
or the Christian religion ; Col. i. 15 signifies the priori tj' of
Christ to ail other Christians. By this lexicon Teller had
put himself amongst the most advanced rationalists, and
his opponents charged him with the design of overthrowing
positive Christianity altogether. The edict of Wollner
(17S8), and Teller's manly action as consistorialrath in de-
fiance of it, led the Prussian Government to pass upon him
the sentence of suspension for three months, with forfeiture
of his stipend. He was not, however, to be moved by
such means, and (1792) issued his work Die Rdigion der
\VoUi:r,m.meneren, an exposition of his theological position,
in which no advocated at length the idea, subsequently
often urged, of " the perfectibility of Christianity," — that
is, of the ultimate transformation of Christianity into a
scheme of simple morality, with a complete rejection of
all specifically Christian ideas and methods. " This book
represents the culminating point of German illuminism,
and is separated by a long process of development from
the author's Lehrhuck. Teller died on 9th December 1804.
In addition to the above works he wTote Ankilung zur
Religion iiberhaupt und mm AUgemeinen des Chrisienthums
insbesondere (1792); and, besides his contributions to the
Allgemeine Deutsche Bibliotliek, he edited a popular and
practically useful MagadnfUr Prediger (1792-1801).
See Gass, Gcschichle der protfsf-antischen Dogmatil\ W. pp. 206-
222 ; Tholuck, art "Teller," in Herzog-Plitfs kealeiicykl. ; Dbring,
Deutsche Kanzclredner des IStcn und X9ten JaJirh., p. 506 sq. ;
Pusey, Causes of the Late Rationalistic Character of German
TJuology (1S28), p. 150.
• TELLEZ, Gabriel (c. 1570-1648), Spanish 'dramatist,
better kno\vn as Tntso de Molina (his nom deplun/), was
born about the year 1570, and about 1613 entered the
order of the Brothers of Charity at Toledo. In 1645 he
became prior of the monastery of the order at Soria,
•where he died in 1648.
His dramatic -works are said to have ntimbered nearly 300, but of
these only a small proportion are now extant. A selection of the
best of them was edited by Hartzenbusch in 1839-42 (Madrid, 12
-vols,). See Drama. toL vii p. 421, and Spanish Literature, '
-vol. xxU. p. 359. .
TELLICHERKl, a seaport town oi India, in Malabar
■district of Madras, situated in 11° 44' 53" N. lat. and
75° 31' 38" E. long. It is a healthy and picturesque
town, built upon a group of wooded hills running down
to the sea, and is protected by a natural breakwater of
rock. The to-wn with its suburbs occupies about 5 square
miles, and was at one time defended by a strong mud wall.
The citadel or castle still siands to the north of the town.
The East India Company established a factory here in 1 683
lor the pepper and cardamom trade. For two years
(1780-82) the to-wn -withstood a siege by Hyder's general
SardSr J^Ao, and in the subsequent wars with Mysore
Tellicherri was the base of operations for the ascent of
the Ghits from the west coast. In 1881 the population
-was 26,410.
TELLURIUM. See Selenitjm and Tellubium..
TELPHERAGE. See Tkaction.
TEMESVAR, a royal fre ) city and capital of the county
«f Temes, is the chief town of south-eastern Hungary. It
lies on the navigable B^ga Canal and the river B^ga, in
45° 47' N- lat and 21° 14'. 2. long. The inner town is
fortified and separated from toe suourbs by a giacis,~now
partly converted into a park. , Temesvar is the seat of the
Roman Catholic bishop of Csanid and of a Greek bishop,
as also of several Government departments of great im-
portance,- and of one of the fifteen army corps of the
Austrian Hungarian army. The majority of the inhabit-
ants foUow industrial and commercial pursuits, and carry
on a brisk trade in grain, flour, spirits, fruits, flax, and
hemp -with the neighbouring districts and with Roumania
an|d Servia, by means of the Arad-TemesvAr and the
Austrian-Hungarian State Railways, as well as by the B6ga
Canal and by road. The town possesses many charitable
and educational establishments, and is a favourite place
of residence on account of its neatness and cleanliness. It
has been lighted by electricity since 1 883. Among the build-
ings specially worthy of notice are some fine old churches,
a new theatre, and ii synagogue in the Byzantine style.
Temesvdr played an important part in the Turkish wars and
in that of 1848-49. The population was 37,500 in 1S86.
TEMMINCK,.Ko}fE AD Jacob (1778-1857), keeper of
the Leyden museum of natural history, was especially
distinguished as an ornithologist, and ivas the author of
many magnificently illustrated systematic works.- See
Oexithology, vol. xviii. p. 11 sq.'
TEMPE. See Thessaly. "
TEMPERA, or Distemper,' is a method of "painting in
which solid pigments are employed, mixed with a water
medium 2 in which some kind of gum or gelatinous sub-
stance is dissolved to prevent the colours from scaling oft".
Tempera is called in Italy " fresco a secco," as distinguished
from "fresco buono," or true fresco, painted on freshly
laid patches of stucco. The peculiarities of true fresco
are described in vol. ix. p. 769 sq. The disadvantages
of tempera painting are that it will not bear exposure to
the weather ; the pigments merely lie on the surface and
do not sink into the stucco, as is the case with true fresco
pigments; moreover, the medium used, being soluble in
water, -will not stand the rain. Its advantages are that
the painter can work at leisure, and can also transfer or
sketch his -whole design on the dry finished surface ; while
in fresco work each portion of the design is hidden piece-
meal as each new patch of stucco is applied (see Raphael,'
vol. XX. p. 279). Another important point is that a far
greater variety of pigments can be used in tempera paint-
ing, as they are not subjected to the caustic action of wet
lime. Lastly, tempera painting can be applied to any
substance, such as dry plaster, wood, stone, terracotta,
vellum, and paper.^ Various media have been used for
tempera work, such as the glutinous sap of the fig and
other trees, various gums which are soluble in water, and
size made by boiling down fish-bones, parchment, and
animals' hoofs. In more recent times a mixture of egg
and -vinegar has been found to make a good medium,
especially when it is desirable to apply the colours in
considerable body or impasto. Painting in tempera is
probably the oldest method of all, and was used in ancient
Egyrpt very largely, as can be seen by an examination of
the many existing examples on papyrus or wood and stone
thinly coated -ndth a skin of fine plaster (gesso). Other
ancient examples have been found in Babylon and Nineveh,
and for internal work it appears to have been much em-
ployed by the Greeks. To some extent tempera was used
by the Romans, though in most cases a combination of
fresco and encaustic (hot wax) -was employed for thei'
mural decoration '(see vol. xvii. p. 42^
^ For some account of tempera palotiug in classical .lud niedixval
times, sec Mcral Decoration, vol. xvii. pp. 39-47.
' Hence it used to be called " watcr-^ork " ; see Shakespeare, Hat.
/v., part ii., act ii. sr. 1.
' Miniatures and illuminated letters in medieval MSS. were pamtsrf
with very finely ground colours mixed with a tempera medium.
158
T E M — T E M
In mediaeTal times, from the 6th century in the
Byzantium of Justinian down to the 14th century, most
painting, whether on walls or panels, was executed in
tempera, though in many cases it appears to have been the
custom to put in the coloured ground in true fresco, and,
when that was dry, paint on it the complete picture with a
tempera medium. This was the method used in the Byzan-
tine wall-paintings in the churches of Thessalonica, Mount
Athos, and elsewhere. A similar practice existed in Eng-
land and other northern countries,' as in the very complete
series of paintings on the walls and vault of the chancel
of Kempley church, Gloucestershire, dating from about
1100. Most commonly, however, in England as in France
and Germany the whole painting was done in tempera,
the finished surface of the plaster being first covered with
a wash of old slaked lime or whitening. As a rule every
inch of stone, whether carved, moulded, or plain, in the
cathedrals and other churches of mediaeval France, Eng-
land, and other countries was covered with this thin coating
of white, and then elaborately decorated with tempera
painting. In those rare cases where want of money pre-
vented the application of colour the stone-work of the in-
terior received the coat of white, so that at any future
time the colouring might be added, and also because the
feeling of the Middle Ages evidently was that bare stone
inside a building had an imfinished and uncomfortable
look,^ and was quite as unsuitable in a richly decorated
and furnished cathedral as it would now be considered in
'a lady's drawing-room. The additional splendour gained
by the use of minute patterns stamped in gesso, thinly
laid over the surface of the stone, is described in Moral
Decoration, vol. xvij. p. 47 ; see also fig. 1 7.
Tempera in Italy. — For panel and canvas paintings
tempera continued in use till nearly the end of the 1 5th
century, when the Flemish method of oil painting gradu-
ally took its place. In many cases with panel pictures of
the latter part of the 15th century it is now difficult, if
not impossible, to be sure whether they were painted in
tempera or in oil, either because both methods were com-
bined— the picture being begun in tempera and finished
with oil glazings — or because an oil varnish has been laid
over the tempera pictures, and so the pigments have ab-
sorbed oil out of the varnish and have thus practically
become associated with an oil medium. In some cases
slight peculiarities of brush-work bear witness to one
medium or the other ; but these appearances are often de-
ceptive, and any real certainty on the point is unattain-
able. The round panel of the Madonna and St Joseph by
Michelangelo may be mentioned as an example of these
doubtful cases.
In the main the earlier tempera easel pictures were
painted on wood, — pear, poplar, or walnut being commonly
used ; but a few painters preferred in some cases to use
canvas.^ The National Gallery of London possesses a very
beautiful example of this, — the Entombment, attributed
to Van der Weyden (see Schools op Painting, vol. xxi. p.
438, fig. 29), which is most delicately and yef powerfully
painted on linen without any priming. Usually both
panels and canvas were prepared for tempera by being
covered with a fine priming or coating of gesso (plaster).
Some later painters used marble dust ; others unfortu-
nately used white lead, which has since blackened through
the absorption of gases from the air.
. ' A Gno example of 14th-century tempera patntmg in Sweden is
Ulustraud m voV. xvii. plaU I.
* NothiBg could be more opposed to the spirit of the Middle Ages
than the modem rage for cutting off plaster aod scraping old atone-
«'ork, under a mistaken notion of aesthetic honesty.
' In order to enfiure an even surface some painters prepared their
panela by covering them with linen or veUum, over which the gesso
(•riming VQS laid.
In the case of wall paintings, both tempera and fresco *
were used together, — the proportion of fresco work being
gradually mcreased. In the 13th and most of the 14th
century little more than the groundwork of the picture
was painted in fresco, though this varied according to the
custom of each painter. In the 15th century increased
technical skill and rapidity of execution allowed much mor*
complete work to be done in fresco, till at last nothmg
but a few fini-shing touches were done in tempera. For
this, exceptional certainty of touch and speed of execution
were required, and some weaker painters never attained to
a very complete mastery over the fresco process. The
brilliant series of wall paintings by Pinturicchio in the
cathedral library at Siena contain a very large proportion
of tempera work, in spite of which they are still in a wonder-
ful state of preservation. Raphael's rapid advance in the
mastery of fresco-work is clearly shown in his paintings in
the Vatican stanze, each one of which is carried to a further
stage in true fresco than the preceding. Thus the earli-
est painting of the series (the Disputa) is very largely
executed in tempera, while some of the later ones are
nearly completed m fresco, and show the most perfect skill
in that difficult process. Michelangelo was specially re-
markable for his great power in fresco, and earned his
Si.stine paintings to a very advanced stage before touching
them with tempera. Sad to say, what tempera finishing
touches ho did apply Have mostly been scraped off during
the many cleanings and repairs that these works have
undergone ; and the same misfdrtune has happened to a
large number oi other impo-tant pictures. Tempera was
specially used for paintings on canvas which were m-
tended to be hung like tapestry, as, for example, the fine
15th-century series at Rheims and Mantegna's Triumph
of Julius Caisar at Hampton Court.' It was also much
used for large cartoons, such as Raphael's tapestry designs,
now in the South Kensington Museum. After the first
half of the 16th century the increasmg use of oil painting,
assisted by the artistic decadence of the age, caused the
gradual disuse of both fresco artl tempera.
A third process, often used during the earlier Middle
Ages, was a sort of compromise between tempera and
fresco. A finished stucco surface was prepared as for
ordinary tempera, but before each day's painting the plaster
was soaked with water, so that the pigments, laid on to
the wet plaster, to some extent sank below the surface,
though without penetrating as deeply as they would on
newly mixed stucco. (j. H. M.)
TEMPER.\i\CE SOCIETIES.^ The modern temper-
ance movement may be said to date from the publication
at Philadelphia, in 1785, of Dr Benjamin Rush's essay on
"The Effects of Ardent Spirits on the Human Body and
Mind," which was republished in the Gentleman's Magazine
of 1786, and had a wide circulation. The distinction which
he draws between distilled and fermented liquors has,
however, no foundation in fact, the difference being one
of degree and not of kind. In 1S08 Dr Lyman Beecher
and Dr B. J. Clark, both readers of Rush, took action, and
the result of the work of the latter was the formation of
what is believed to be the first modern temperance society.
It was formed in Greenfield, Saratoga county, New York,
as an anti-spirit^ association, and snll remains a teetotal
society. This example was soon followed elsewhere, the
early societies all restricting their scope to advocacy of
moderation in the use of distilled liquors, and. placing
no inhibition upon fermented drinks. One society had a
• " Fresco ■■ here means " fresco buono," or true fresco.
* See vol. ivii. p. 88.
' The manner and degree in vliicb the law has in rec«Dt years
regulated the sale of intoxicants is described under LiQDOR Laws (vol
xiv. p. 688).
TEMPERANCE SOCIETIES
159
Cyelaw nriiuiring iny member who became intoxicated to
treat all tljf oilier membtrs. The work made further
^rogrc.-s rthcn the American Temperance Society was
■oundcJ in 1S26. Three years later Prof. John Edgar of
Belfast called attention to the need for similar work in
Ireland , aud John Dunlop nearly at the same time
M-ganized a temperance society in Glasgow. In 1830
she first English temperance society was founded at Brad-
lord. The habitual use of fermented liquors in England
was a prolific source of drunkenness, and the evil was
greatly increased by the passing of the Beer Act in October
1830. Hence some of the reformers began to abstain from
all forms of alcohoL This new departure found its leader
in Joseph Livesey of Preston, a man of singular zeal and
benevolence, who with sLit others signed a pledge of total
abstinence on Ist September 1832. The reformers were
soon divided over the fitrce "battle of the pledges."
Some were willing to pledge themselves to abstain, but
not to refrain from providing alcoholic drink for their
visitors. After the formation of the distinctive total
abstinence organizations, the moderation societies died of
inanition. It should be mentioneii here that the Society
of Bible Christians, founded at Salford in 1809, adopted
tlie rule of abstinence from Besh meat and intoxicants,
and that a number of the "radical reformers" were ab-
stainers from a desire to diminish the public revenue,
which they regarded as devoted to wTong purposes by the
Government of the day. In Ireland Father Theobald
Mathew became president of the Total Abstinence Society
in Cork in 1833, and the "pledge" was taken from his
hands by crowds; before he died in 1856 between three
uid four million persons are said to have received it from
him in the course of his journeys. J. S. Buckingham
secured the appointment of a committee of the House of
Commons, which sat in June 1834, to inquire into drunken-
ness. The adjective " teetotal " was first used in Septem-
ber 1833 by Richard T\imer, a reformed drunkard, to
express the thoroughgoing principle of total abstinence,
but whether he coined the word, or whf-ther it was merely
a stuttering pronunciation of "total," or an old dialect
word has been disputed , Prof. Skeat {Etym. Did., t.v.
" Teetotal ") believes it is an emphasized form of " total,"
formed on the principle of reduplication. The early
teetotallers were earnest missionaries. In consequence of
their efforts societies and leagues multiplied, periodicals
were estalilished, and, notwithstanding many failures and
apparent retrogressions, the temperance movement pro-
gressed. One of the chief forms gX thrift amongst the
artisan class was that of the friendly society, the meetings
of which were usually held at the public-house, large
suras being spent (sometimes by rule) on liquor. In 1835
the Indefiendent Order of Rechabites was formed at Sal-
ford, and has since had a prosperous career as a working-
class insurance company on temperance principles. The
Sons of Temperance and the Total Abstinent Sons of the
Phoenix are similar organizations. The sickness and
death-rate among members of these bodies is much below
that of the ordinary friendly societies. The beneficial
effect of abstinence upon health and longevity is shown
by the experience of the United Kingdom Temperance
Provid>:nt Institution, the example of which has led
several large insurarxe companies to add a special section
for teetotallers. The statistics of these ofiices show that
the mortality of the ordinary insured is considerably
heavier than that of the abstainers. A vehement con-
troversy arose at an early period as to the use of sacra-
mental wine, and the nt'ure of the wines mentioned in
Scfjpture was discussed in innumerable pam;ihleta The
jaiUlt has been that in a number of cases the wine now
S»«d lilt frwratnent^ purposes is understood to be unfer-
mented. The cosmopolitan character of the movement
was shown by the meeting of the World's Temperance
Convention at London in 1846. The Scotch United
Presbyterian Abstinence Society, originated in 1845, was
one of the first of the church societies ; and there are now
few, if any, religious d'enominations either in England or
America in which such organizations are wholly wanting.
The Church x>i England Temperance Society has two
sections, one pledged to the temperate use of intoxicants
and the other to total abstinence. This method of organ-
izing has found imitators. The enactment of the Maine
Liquor Law in America in 1851 (see vol. xv. p. 299) led
to the formation, in 1853, of the United Kingdom Alliance,
which has for its object the suppression of the liquor traffic
by legislation, and with a view to this suggests that a power
of local veto should be placed in the hands of the rate-
payers. This proposal took parliamentary form in the
Permissive Bill of Sir Wilfrid Lawson, which was ulti-
mately withdrawn and replaced by a '.' local option " re-
solution, which has been thrice affirmed by the House of
Commons. Temperance hotels, temperance cafes, British
workmen public-houses, cocoa house.'i coffee palaces, tee-
total clu^s, have arisen in many places as social aids of
the temperance movement.
lu 1868 the Good Templar order was introduced into
England from the United States, where it had come into
existence several years earlier. In England it made rapid
progress, until it was seriously checked by a dispute arising
out of the Negro question ; but the two sections have
again reunited (1887). Good Templary is the free-
masonry of temperance, with ritual, passwords, grips, ic,
closely modelled on those of the old secret societies. It
has had a remarkable extension in Great Britain, the
United States, the British colonies, and in Scandinavia, its
aggregate membership now reaching over 623,000. One
of its results has been the foundation of a temperance
orphanage at Sunbury-on-Thames. Side by side with the
general movement there has been a special movement
against the use of alcohol as medicine, and the tendency
of medical teaching now favours at least restriction of its
use as a therapeutic agent. The London Temperance
Hospital for the non-alcoholic treatment of disease was
opened in October 1873. The importance of training the
young was early recognized by the leaders of temperance
reformation, and the labours of Dr R. B. Grindrod o<
Manchester and Mrs Garble of Dublin led to -the forma'
tion of bands of hope, which are now found in connexion
with many places of worship. The juvenile temples of
the Good Templar order also work in the same direction.
The Woman's Christian Temperance Union, founded in the
United States in 1874, is one of the latest forms of tem-
perance activity. A branch was organized in Great Britain
in 1876; and in 1883 the World's Women's Temperance
Union came into existence.
The temperaDce movement has now branched out into a multi-
tude of organizations in the United Kingdom, of which the Rail-'
way Temperance Union, the post-office temperance societies, and
associations connected with the army and navy are Xy\va. The
or^r-inizations of a more general character are the United Kingdom
Alliance, which is very active in the disseinination of tiitotal
doctrines generally, the National Tenipcrance League, the Scottish
Terof»erance League, the British Temperance League, thn Scottish
Permii^ive Bill Association, the Irish Temperance League, and the
Irish Association for t)ie Prevent'ou of Inieinperaoce. There are
also large district and county societies. Next to these come the
secret orders, of wriich the Rechabites, Sons of Temperance, Sons of
the Phcenix are large beneJjt societies. The Independent Order of
Good I'emplars is non-beneficiary, and seeks in its " lodges " to
provije social attractions, and at the sanie time to train the mem-
bers in temperance work ; it is probably the largest voluntary
association in the world. .There are societies in connexion with
the various religious bodies, of which the Churdi of F.ngland
Temperance Society, the Catholic League of the Cross, the Baptist
Total A^tiuence Society, are promincDt instances.
160
T E M — T E M
(j-'i:iT.
The oldest organization in America is the Sons of Temperance
(L842),~ now numbering aboat 80,000 members. The Independent
Order of Good Templars (1851) is the largest, its membership
approaching 100,000. ' Both these, as also the Koyal Templars of
Temperance (1877) and the Templars of Honour and Temperance
(JS45), are mutual benefit societies. The Woman's Christian
Temperance Union, the National Temperance Society and Pub-
lication House (New York), and the National Prohibition Party
are active ia educational work. The 'Womaa's Christian Temper-
ance Union is the outgrowth of "the Women's Crusade" (1872), a
remarkable uprising among the women of Ohio and Pennsylvania
against the liquor traffic. The organization was effiected in 1874,
and has since spread throughout the United States, its member-
ship no-.f (1887) numbering 207,000. Its influence has been
mdely felt in legislatures and in elections in which prohibitory
laws have been voted upon. With the exception of the Chnrcn
Temperance Society of the Protestant Episcopal Church, which
has the "double basis," all the temperance societies of the United
States are based on. the. doctrine of total abstinence ; and, with
the additional exception of the Father Mathew Total Abstinence
Societies of the Roman Catholic Church, they all advocate the
principle of prohibition. Amendments embodj-ing this idea have
been inserted in the State constitutions (by popular vote) of Maine,
Kansas, and Rhode Island. In Vermont and Iowa the legislature
haa enacted statutory prohibition, which is still iniorce. In other
States local prohibition prevails to a large extent, chiefly in
Oeorgia, Mississippi, Massachusetts, Tennessee, Kentucky, and
Arkansas.
, BMuygraphy. — Tne literature of the subject is very exteoaivs and may most
conveDiently be clas.ied under the foUowJDg heaiis. (1) Histobt : P. T.
Winakiil, History of the Temperance Fe/ormatwn ; One JJuTtdred Yeart of Tem-
perance (New York, 18^); Dorchester, Lujuor Problem in all Ages (New
York): WiUard, Woman and Temperance (Hartford); Shaw, Oreat Temperance
Reforms (ToTODtoX (2) TaEOlXKiv : Dawson Burns and F. R. Lees, Temperance
Eibi^ Commentary; J. Smith, The Church and tM Temperance Ecjormation;
Ssmabo, Diiine taw as to (rin/s (Philadelphia). (3) General: A. GustAfson,
TlKe Foundation of Death ; R. B. Grindrod, Our Nation's rioc ; D. Bums, Bases
of the Temperance Re/arnuUion ; Grindrod, Sacchus; B. Parsons, Anti-Bacchus;
roweU, Bacchus Dethroned ; Baker, The Curse of Britain ; J. Dunlop, Philosophy
of Drinking Usages 0S!9) ; The PotUical ProhibUionist (New York, 1887); Pit-
man, Akoh^ol and the Slate (New York). (4) Poutical Economt; F. R. Lees,
Argument for the Prohibition of th£ Liquor Tragic; W. Hoyle, Our Natio^uil
E^ources; Hargreaves, Our Wasted Resources (New York). (5) Science: J.
Livesey, The Malt Liquor Lecture; P. Bume, Teetotaller's Comp<inion; W. B.
Carpenter, Physiology of Temperance and Total Abstinence ; A. A. Reade, Study
and Stimulants; HiUer, Alcohol, its Place and Power; Id., Nephalism; B, W.
Richardson, Caritor Lectures on Alcohol ; Hargreaves, Alcc^hol and Science (New
Tork). (6) Fiction : novels and tales embodying teetotal principles have been
written by Mrs Henry Wood, Mrs H. B. Stowe, Mrs, C. L. Balfour, Mr John
Eabberton, Mr lywMd Jenkins, Mrs 8. O. Hall, Mrs Ellis, ond many others.
(7) PERIODICALS! the iEiT:i«;rance periodicala issued iQ Great Britain now
number about fifty.
TEMPLAHS, Knights. Pernaps the most renowned of
the three great military orders founded in the 12th centvry
for the defence of the Latin kingdom of Jerusalem is that
of the Knights Templars {pauperes commiliiones ChrUtiUin-
plique Sahmomci), though abolished long before its rivals.
It differed from the Hospitallers and the Teutonic Knights
in having been a military order from its very origin, inas-
much as its earliest members banded themselves together
for the express purpose of giving armed protection to the
numerous pilgrims who, after the first crusade, flocked to
Jerusalem and the other sacred sites in the Holy Land.
Walter Map has preserved the legendary story of their first
achievements, from which it would appear that their earliest
efforts were confined to the immediate neighbourhood of
Jerusalem ; and the memory of their original aim may
perhaps be traced from fiity to seventy years later, when
they conducted Henry of Saxony from their own quarters
on Mount Moriah to the banks of Jordan, or when on the
tall of the Holy City (1187) they protected the vanguard
of the Christians on its way from Jerus^em to Tripoli.
The three orders were distinguished from each other by
their garb. The Hospitallers wore .black mantl»3 with
white crosses, the Templars white mantles with a red cross,
the Teutonic Knights white mantles with a black cross.'
The Templars almost from their foundation had their
quarters in the palace of the Latin kings, which had' been
the mosque of Mount Moriah. This palace was also known
as Solomon's temple, and it was from this templum Solo-
monis that the Templars took their name.
About the year 1118 a Burgundian knight, Hugh de
t
' WiUiMi of Tyre, xii. c. 7, viiL 3, rriiL 3-6 ; James de Vitry,
JluL n,cros., 60-67.
Pag&nis, bo«ni himself aad eight comrades by a vow to the
patriarch of Jerusalem to guard the public roads, to live
as regular canons, and to fight for the King of Heaven in
chastity, obedience, and self-denial. Baldwin n. granted
them quarters on Motitit Moriah and recommended theii
cause to St Bernard. Under his patronage the papal legate,
Matthew, bishop of St Albano, presided at the council of
Troyes in January 1128 for the purpose of drawing up or
confirming the statutes of the new order. The seventy-two
statutes then drawn up me* with the approval of Pope
Honorius PL and the patriarch of Jerusalem, and became
the groundwork of the later and more elaborate " Regie Spread
du Temple." Long before St Bernard's death (1153) the of the
new order was established in almost every kingdom of °^"^
Latin Christendom.. Henry I. granted them lands in
Normandy. They seem to have been settled m Castile
by 1129, ia RocheUe by 1131, in Languedoc by 1136, at
Rome by 1138, in Brittany by 1141, and in Germany
at perhaps a still earlier date. Alphonso I. of Aragon
and Navarre, if we may trust the Spanish historians, be-
queathed them the third of his kingdom (Mariana, %. c. 9).
Raymond Berengar, cotmt of Barcelona, and Alphonso'a
successor in Aragon, whose father had been admitted to the
order, granted them the strong castle of Mongon (1143),
and established a new chivalry in imitation of theirs,
Louis VH. in the latter j'ears of his reign gave them a
piece of marsh land outside Paris, which in later times
became known as the Temple, and was the headquarters of
the order in Europe. Stephen of England grantied them
the manors of Crossing and Witham in Essex, and his wife
Matilda that of Cowjey, near Oxford. Eugenius III.,
Louis VIL, and 130 brethren were present at the Paris
chapter (1147) when Bernard de Balliol granted the order
15 Lbrates of land near Hitchin ; and the list of English
benefactors under Stephen and Henry IL includes the
noble names of Ferrers, Harcourt, Hastings, Lacy, Clare,
Vere, and Mowbray.
After the council of Troyes Hugh de Paganis came to
England and induced a number of English knights to follow
him to the Holy Land. Amongst these was Fulk, count
of Anjou, who wotdd thus seem to have been a Templar
before assuming the crown of Jerusalem in 1131. Hugh Early
de Paganis died about the year 1136 and was succeeded grand,
by Robert de Craon, who is said to have been Anselm's '"**'*"'
nephew. Everard de Barris, the third master, was con-
spicuous in the second crusade. In the disastrous march
from Laodicea to Attalia his troops alone kept up even
the show of discipline ; and their success prompted Louia
Vn. to regulate his whole army after the model of the
Templar knights. In the French king's distress for money
the "Templars lent him large sums, ranging from 2000 silver
marks to 30,000 solidL ■\\'hen Conrad UI. of Germany
reached Jerusalem he was entertained at their palace (Easter
1148); and in the summer of the same year they took
part in the unsuccessful siege of Damascus. The failure
of this expedition was ascribed by a contemporary writer
to their treachery, — a charge to which Conrad would not
assent. This is the first note of the afcusationa which
from this time were of constant recurrence.-
HencefoTNvard for 140 years the history of the Templars
is the history of the Crusades {q.v.\ In 1149 the
Templars were appointed to guard the fortress of Gaza,
the last Christian stronghold on the way towards Egypt.
Foiu: years later the new master, Bernard de Tremelai,
and forty of his followers, bursting into Ascalon, wer«
surrounded by the Saracens and cut off to a singl,^ man.'
William of Tyre has -preserved the scandal of the day
when he hints that they met a DMrited fate in tlieir eager-
ness to possess themselves of the city treasure. Next year
> BisL Pontijtc, ap. Pertz, xi. 536-53&
TEMPLARS
161
ti'">n>
Salad
the rumour went abroad that they had sold a noble half-
'"onverted Egyptian prime, who had fallen into their hands,
to chains and certain death for 60.000 aurei In 1166
Amalric. the Latin king of Jerusalem, hanged twelve
Templars on a rharge of betraying a fortress beyond the
Jordan to an emir of Nur alDin of Damascus The
military power ot Nur il-Din ( 1 1451 173) was a standing
menace to the Christian settlements in the East Edessa
^'" had fallen to the pmwess of his father ( 1 144-45) , Damas-
cus waii conquered by the son (1153). who four years
earlier had "arried his depredations almost to the walls of
■\ntioch. and in 1157 laid siege to the Christian town of
Taneas near rfae sources ot the Jordan In the disastrous
tight that followed for the salety of the fortress of the
Hospitallers. Bertrand de Blanquetori. the master of the
Templars, and Odo de St Amand. one of his successors,
Were taken prisoners Bertrand was released later when
.Vlanuel was preparing to march against Nur alDiu. The
Templars do not seem to have opposed Araalric's early
expeditions against Egypt It was Geoffrey Fulcher, the
Templar correspondent of Louis V'lL, who brought back
! II 67 ) to Jerusalem the glowing accounts of the splendour
5t the caliph's court at Cairo with which Gibbon has en-
livened hib great work Nor was the order less active
it the northern limits of the Latin kingdom Two English
Templars. Gilberi de Lacy and Robert Mansel, "qoi Galen-
jibus praeerat,' starting from Anticch, surprised Nuf al-
Din in the neighbourhood of Tripoli and put him bare-
looted to flight But jealousy or honour led the Templars
to oppose Amalric's Egyptian expedition of 116S, and the
wisdom of their advice became apparent when the renewed
di.scord on the Nile led to the conquest of Egypt by Asad
al-Din Shlrkiih, and thus indirectly to the accession of
Saladin. m 1169 In 1170 they beat Saladin back from
their frontier fortress of Gaza, and seven years later they
shared in Baldwin IV 's great victory at Ascalon
Meanwhile Saladin had possessed himself of Emesa and
Damascus (1174-75), and, as he was already lord of Egypt,
ais power hemmed in the Latin kingdom on every side.
In July 1173 Amalric was succeeded by his son Baldwin
IV . a boy of twelve Raj-mond I-II , count of Tripoli, a
nan suspected of being in league with the Saracens, was
ippointed regent, although in 1176 the masters of the
Templars and the Hospitallers united in offering this office
to the newly arrived Philip of Flanders The construction
of the Templar fortress at Jacob's ford on the upper
Jordan led to a tresh Saracen invasion and the disastrous
l)attlo of Paneas (1 179), from which the young king and
the Holy Cross escaped with difficulty, while Odo de St
Amand. the grandmaster, was carried away captive and
never returned
During Odo's mastership the Old Man of the Mountains
sent to .Amalric offering to accept the Christian faith if
released from the tribute he had paid to the Templars
since (according to the reckoning of M Defr^mery) some-
where about 1149 The Templars murdered the envoys
on their return (c 1172) Amalric demanded that the
offenders should be given up for justice Odo refused to
yield the chief culprit, though he was well known, and in-
voked the protection of the pope. Amalric had to vindicate
his right by force of arms at Sidon, and died while prepar-
ing to take stronger measures. The connexion between the
Templars and the Old Man was still vital eighty years
later when the two grand-masters rebuked the insolence of
the Assassin envoys in the presence of. Louis I.X Odode
St Amand was succeeded by Arnold de Torroge, who died
at Verona on his way to implore European succour for
the Holy Land._ The power of Saladin was now (1184)
increasing daily , Baldwin IV was a leper, and his realm
was a prey to rival factions. There were two claimants
for the guardianship of the state,— Raymond III of
Tripoli and Guy de Lusignan, who in 1180 had married
Sibylla, sister of the young king. Baldwin inclined to
the former, against the patriarch and Arnold de Torroge.
There is something Homeric in the story of the fall of Fall or
the Latin kingdom as related by the historians of the next La''"
century. A French knight, Gerard de Riderfort or Bide- '•'"B''""
ford, coming to the East in quest of fortune, attached
himself to the service of Raymond of Tripoli, looking for
the hand of some wealthy widow in reward. But on his
claiming the hand of tne lady of Botron he was met with
a refusal Angered at this, Gerard enrolled himself among
the Templars, biding his time for revenge, and was elected
grand-master on the death of Arnold. Baldwin R'. died
(1185), leaving the throne to his young nephew Baldwin
v., the son of Sibylla, under the guardianship of Raymond,
whose office was not of long duration, as the Little king
died in September 1186. This was Gerard s opportunity.
The Templars carried the body of their dead overeign to
Jerusalem for burial , and then, unknown to the barons
of the realm, Gerard and the patriarch crowned Sibylla
and her husband Guy. The coronation of Guy was the
triumph of Reginald of Chatiilon, once prince of Antioch,
and Saladin's deadliest foe It was at the same time the
overthrow of Raymonds ambition , and both Latin and
Arabic writers are agreed that the Christian count and
the Mohammedan sultan now entered into an alliance
To break this friendship and so save the kingdom, the
two grand-masters were sent north to make terms with
Raymond. But the rash valour of the Templars provoked
a hopeless contest with 7000 Saracens. The grand-master
of the Hospitallers was slam , but Gerard made his escape
wnth three knights to Nazareth (1st May 1187). In this
emergency Raymond became reconciled with Guy , and
Gerard placed the temple treasures of Henry II at his
king's disposal. Once more it was the Templars' rashness
that led to the disastrous battle of Eittin (4th July).
Gerard and the king fell into the hands of Saladin, but
were released about a year later , Raymond of Tripoli
made his escape through treachery or fortune , and 230
Templars fell in or after the battle, for the fight was
scarcely over before Saladin ordered all the Templars and
Hospitallers to be murdered in cold blood. One after
another the Christian fortresses of Palestine fell into the
hands of Saladin. Jerusalem surrendered on 2d-3d Octo- Fall of
ber 1187, and the treasures of the temple coffers were''""
used to purchase the redemption of the poorer Christians, **'""•
part of whom the Templar warriors guarded on their sad
march from the Holy City to Tripoli. Part of their
wealth was expended by Conrad of Montferrat in the
defence of Tyre , but, when this prince refused to admit
Guy to his city, both the Templars and the Hospitallers
from the neighbouring parts flocked to the banner of their
released king and accompanied him to the siege of Acre Siege of
(22d August 1189). In his company they bore their part in *"*•
the two years' siege and the terrible famine of 1 1 90-91 , and
their grand-master died in the great battle of 4th October
1189, refusing to survive the slaughter of his brethren
On the fall of Acre Philip Augustus established himself
in the palace of the Templars, who are, however, stated
to have sjTnpathized with Richard. This king sold them
the island of Cjprus for 100,000 besants ; but, unable to
pay the purchase money, they transferred the debt and
the principality to Guy of Lusignan. The EngUsh king
consulted them before deciding on any great military move-
ment; and in June 1192 they advocated the bold plan of
an advance on Egypt rather than on Jerusalem. In the
disputes for the Latin kingdom of the East the Templars
seem to have supported Guy, and, like Richard, were
credited with having had a band in the murder of Conrad
xxm. — ai
162
TEMPLARS
of Montferrat (April 1192). It was in the disguise of a
Templar and in a Templar galley that "Richard left the
Holy Land. • 'VMien Acre was recovered, the Templars, like^
the Hospitallers, received their own -quarters in the town,^
vrhich from this time became the centre of the order.
On the death of Henry of Champagne (1197) they vetoed
the election of Eaoul de Tabarie; after the death of his
successor Amalric they refused to renew the truce with
Saladin's brother, Saif al-Din, and led an expedition against
John de the Saracens before the arrival x>i the new king, John de
Brienoe, Brienne, at whose coronation in 1210 William de Chartres,
the grand-master, -was present. Seven years later, with
the aid of Walter de Avennis and of the Teutonic Knights,
they commenced the building of their fortress ofC^tle
■pilgrim, near Acre, on a rocky promontory washed by
the llediterranean on every side except the east,, .This
, -onderf ul structure, whose ruins are still to be Seen, "was
iortified with a strong wall, founded on the substructure of
a yet more extensive one running from sea to sea, and was
blanked by lofty towers of huge squared stones. Within
■was a spring of pure water, besides, fishponds, salt-mines,
t.Toods, pastures, orchards, and all things fitted to furnish
an abode in which the Templars might await the day of
their restoration to .Jerusalem.
Fifth It was from this castle that in May 1218 the fifth crusade
crusade, started for the expedition against Egypt. The Templars
were the heroes of the siege of Damietta, at which William
de Chartres was slain. "First to attack and last to
retreat," they saved the Christian army from annihilation
on 29th August 1219; and when the city surrendered
(5th November) the only one of its twenty-eight towers
that had begun to give way had been shaken by their
Jjngines. On the other hand, it was largely owing to their
Objections that John de Brienne refused tie sultan's offer .
jO restore Jerusalem and Palestine.
'" From the very first the Templars seem to have been
opposed to Frederick IL, and when he landed at Acre
(7th September 1228) they refused to march under the
banners of an excommunicated man, and would only ac-
company his host from Acre to Joppa in a separate body.
They were accused of notifying Frederick's intended pil-
grimage to the Jordan to the sultan, and they were
certainly opposed to Frederick's ten years' peace with
M-Kimil, the sultan of Egypt, and refused to be present
at his coronation in Jerusalem. Frederick was not slow
♦o avenge himself : he left Jerusalem abruptly, publicly
insulted .the grand-master, demanded the surrender of
their fortresses, and even laid siege to Castle Pilgrim. He
left Acre on 3d May 1229, and on landing in Apulia gave
orders to seize the estates of the order and chase aU its
members from the land.
Seventii Long before the expiration of Frederick's peace Europe
'™'*'^ was preparing for a fresh crusade against the now divided
realm of the Ayyubids, Theobald of Navarre and his
crusaders reached Palestine about August 1239. The
Templars shared in the great defeat near Jaffa, an engage-
ment which their temerity had done much to provoke
(13th November 1239). If the king ever accepted the
overtures of §4lili of Damascus, he was supporting the
policy of Hermann of Perigord, the grand-master, who
towards the smnmer of 1244 wrote a triumphant letter
to England, 'teUing how he had engaged this stiltaiL and
Nisir of Kerak to make an alliance against the sultan of
Egypt and restore the whole of Palestine from the Jordan
to the sea. Theobald, however, before leaving the Holy
Land (27th September 1240), sigped a ten years' truce
with Silih of Egypt The Hospitallers seem to have been
won over to his view, and. when Eichard of Cornwall
arrived (llth October) he had to decide between the two
rival orders and their opposing policies. After some hesi-
tation he concluded a treaty with the sultan of ■ Egypt,
much to the annoyance of the Templars, ^who openly
mocked his efforts. On his departure the three orders
came to open discord : the Templars laid siege to the
Hospitallers in Acre and drove out the Teutonic Knights
" in contumeliam .imperatoris." They were .successful on
all sides. . The negotiations with Damascus and Kerak
were reopened,- and in 1244 Hermann of Perigord wrote
to the princes of Europe that after a " silence of fifty-six
years the divine mysteries would once more be celebrated
in the Holy City."
It was in this moment of danger that" the sultan ofKti&risL
Babylon called in the barbarous KhArizmians, whom the nria^ tr
Mongol invasions had driven from their native lands. ^***^
.These savages, entering from the north, flowed like a tide
past the newly built and impregnable Templar fortress of
Safed, swept down on Jerusalem, and annihilated the
Christian army near Gaza on St Luke's day (18th October)
1244. From this blow the Latin kingdom of the East
never recovered ; 600 knights took part in the battle ; the
whole army of the Templars, 300 in number, was present,
but only 18 survived, and of 200 Hospitallers only 16.
The masters of both orders were slaia or taken prisoners.
Despite the admirable valour of the Templars, their policy
had proved the rain of the land. Jerusalem was lost to
Christendom for ever; and, though the KhArizmians melted
away in the course of the next three years, they left the
country so weak that aU thei acquisitions of Theobald and
Eichard fell an easy prey to the sultan of Babylon.
Eecognizing the fact that the true way to Jerusalem Lotdis
lay through ' Egypt, Loiiis IX led his host to the banks IX.'e^
of the Nile, being accompanied by the Templars. Their ""'"*'
master, William de Sonnac, attempted in vain to restrain
the rash advance of the count of Artois at the battle of
Mansiira' (8th February 1250), which only three Ternplars
survived. St Louis, when captured a few weeks later,
owed his speedy release to the generosity with which the
order advanced his ransom-money. Shortly after his de-
parture from Acre (April 1254) they consented to an elevea.
years' truce with the sultans of Egypt and Damascus.
A new enemy was now threatening Mohammedan and
Christian ahke. For a time the Mongol advance may
have been welcomed by the Christian citifes, as one after
another the* Mohammedan principalities of the north fell
before the new invaders. But tiis new danger stimulated
the energies of Egypt, which under the Mameluke Bey- Stic-
bars (see vol. viL p. 755) encroached year after year on the «*«■ «r
scanty remains of the Latin kingdom. The great Frankish Bejnasa.
lords, fearing that all was lost, made haste to sell their
lands to the Templars and Hospitallers before quitting
Palestine for ever. In 1260 the former purchased Sidon
and Beaufort ; next year the Hospitallers purchased Arsuf ,'
I.n 1267, by a skilful adaptation of- the banners of both,
orders, Beybars nearly surprised Antioch. The Templar
fortress of Safed stirrendered with its garrison of 600
knights, all of whom preferred death to apostasy (June
1266). Beaufort fell in April 1268,- Antioch six weeks
later; and, though the two orders still made occasional
brilliant dashes from- their Acre stronghold," such as that
to Ascalon in 1264 and that with Prince Edward of Eng-
land to destroy EJSJpin in 1271, they became so enfeebled
as to welcome the treaty which secured them the plain of
Acre and a free road to Nazareth as the result of the
English crusade of 1272.
But, though weak against external foes, the Teii)|[l^tc
were strong enough for internal warfare. In 1277iii6y
espoused the quarrel of the bishop of Tripoli, formerly a
member of the order, against his nephew Bohemond, prince
of Antioch and. Tripoli, and commenced a war which lasted
three years. In 1 276 their conduct drove Hugh in., king
TEMPLARS
163
of Cyprus and Jerusalem, from Acre to Tyre. In the
ensuing year, when Mary of Antioch bad sold her claim
to the crown to Charles of Anjou, they welcomed th:s
prmce's lieutenant to Acre and succeeded for the moment
in forcing the knights of that city to do homage to the
new king. Thirteen years later (26th April l'J90) Tri-
poli fell, and nest year Acre, after a siege of si\ weeka,
at the close of which (16th May) William de Beaujeu, the
.Anao grand-master, was slam. The lew sxirviving Templars
oooment elected a new master, and, forcing their way to iht sea-
'"*'" shore, sailed for Cyprus, which now became the head-
quarters of the order A f uule attempt against AJexandna
in 1300 and an unsuccessful effort to fdrm a new settlement
at Tortosa about the same time (1300-2) are the closing
acts of their long career in the western parts of Asia
F->wer For more than a hundred years the Templars had been
and to- one of the wealthiest and most influential factors in Euro-
ti'-ence ^^^^ politics. Lf we confine our attention to the East, we
,.>rder. realize but a small part of their enormous power Two
Templars were appointed guardians of the disputed castles
'on the betrothal of Prince Henry of England and the
French princess in 1161. Other Templars were almoners
of Henry III. of England and of Philip IV of France.
One grand-master was godfather to a daughter of Louis
IX. , another, despite the prohibition of the order, is said
to have been godfather to a child of Philip IV They are
reported to have reckoned a pope (Innocent III.) among
their members and to have refused admission to a kjng
and his nephew (PhiUp IV.). They were summoned to
the great councils of the church, such as the Lateran of
1215and the Lyons council of 1274. Frederick II. 's per-
secution of their order was one of the mam causes of his
excommunication in 1239 ; and his last will enjoined the
restoration of their estates. Their property was scattered
over every country of Christendom, from Denmark to
Spain, from Ireland to Cyprus. Before the middle of the
13ih century Matthew Pans reckons their manors at 9000,
Alberic of Trois-Fontaines at 7050, whereas the rival order
of St John had barely half the latter number. Some fifty
years earlier their income from Armenia alone was 20,000
besants. Both in Paris and in London their houses were
used as strongholds for the royal treasure. In the London
temple Hubert de Burgh and the Poitevin favourites of
Henry III. stored their wealth ; and the same building
was used as a bank into which the debtors of the foreign
uEureas paid their dues. From the English Templars Henry
III. orrowed the purchase money of Oleron in 1235;
from the French Templars Philip FV. exacted the dowry
nf hisrdaughter Isabella on her marriage with Edward II.
To Ltuis IX. they lent a great part of his ransom, and
to Edward I. of England no less than 25,000 livres Tour-
not^, of which they remitted four-fifths. James de Molai,
the laic grand-master, came to France in 1306 with 150,000
gold dorms and ten horse-loads of silver. In the Spanish
penimula they occupied a peculiar position, and more than
une ning of Aragon is said to have been brought up under
their discipline.
Such were the power and wealth of the Templars at the
time when Philip IV. of France accused them of heresy
and worsr offences, had them arrested (13th October 1307),
and forced them to confess by tortures of the most ex-
cruciating kinds. Five years later (26th May 1312) the
order was suppressed by decree of the council of Vienne
and its goods transferred to the hospital of St John.
Consi.n: The order consisted of (1) knights, (2) chaplains, and (3) men-ac-
tiOD arms (armigeriy ^ienUSt and servumUs). The knights were either
bound for life or for a 6xed period, and were the only members
entitled to wear the white mantle. Married brethren were ad-
mitted ; but no woman might enter the order. Each knight might
keep thred^orses and one man-at-arms, who, like his master, might
ba boand for Ufa or only for a time. Like Augustinian canons.
they werf» to attend daily services ; but the soldier outweancd wah
his nightly duti^'S msght on oertam conditions.at'sent himself fioro
matins with the masters consent. Two regular-' mtaU were allowed
for each day*, but to these might be added, at the master's discre-
lioD, a light collation towards sunset. M^at might be eaten thrice
a week ; and on other days there was to be a choice of vegetable
fare so as to suit the tenderest stomach. Brethren were to eat by
couples, each keeping an eye on his feUow to t>ee that he did not
practise an undue austerity. Wme was served at every meal, and
at those times silence was stnctty enjoined that the words of Uoly
Writ might be heard with the closest attention. Special care was
to be taken of aged and aiiiDg members. Every brother cwed the
most absolute obediente to the master of the order, and was to go
wherever his :>upenor bade bim withoL.t delay, "as if commanded
by GoU All undue display in arms ur harness was forbidden.
Parti -coloured garments wtre forbidden, blm k or dusky-brown
(bureilusi was to be worn by all except the kuighus. All garments
were lo be made of n-ool . but from Easier t'> All Sonls a liuen shirt
might be substituted for one of wool. The hair was to be worn
ib'^n. and a rouch beard becamt out of the disUD'^ishing marks
of tbe oMrr Hiuitingand ba\^king wfr«r onlawful . and the rcry
allusion to the folbes ot secular .tcbi^vements of earlier ins "was
forbidden A lion however being the type of tbt fvU one, was
legitimate prey Stntt Wdith was kept on the incomings and out-
goings of ever>' brother, except whec he went out by night to visit
the Sepujcbre ul our Lord No letter, even troro the oeajfest rela-
tive, might be opened except in the master's presence nor was any
member to feel aunoyance if he saw his relative s gift transferred
at the aiaster's bidding to some other brother The brethren were
to sleep in sejiaratc beds to shirts and breeches, with a Ught always
buming in the dormitory Those who lacked a mattress might
place a piece of carpet on the Boor , but all loxury was discouraged.
The order recognized two governing bodies, — the first, a meeting for
ordinary business, to whjcli only the wiser members were summoned ;
the second, one for extraordanary affairs, such as the granting of
lands or the reception of oew members, on which occasions the
master might snmmon the whole lommunity Even at these last
assemblies the master seems to have decided on the hnal action (c
59 J. A term of probation was assigned to each candidate before
admission , and a special clause discouraged the reception of boys
before they were of an age to bear arms Lastly, the brethren of
the Temple were exborted to shun the kiss of e^ery woman, whether
maid or vridow, mother, aunt, or sistei
The general spirit of the Templar statutes remamed unaltered Admints-
to the end. though the in-jreasino wealth of the order gave nse to tratioa.
a number of additional rules The grand-master was always head
of the society , his instructions were binding on every member, and
the very laws were at his discretion But he could not declare
war. alienate the society s estates, or even admit a member withou;
the consent of his chapter. He was elected by thirteen brothers,
chosen by a peculiar method of to-opution, and all, if possible,
belonging to different nations. Nezt to him in dignity came the
seneschal, on whom the duties of the absent master devolved. The
marshal had charge of the steeds and accoutrements ; he also com-
manded the knights and men-at-arms, the latter of whom seem in
time of war to have been at the disposal of the turcopolier. The
commander of the kingdom guarded the treasure-house, to which
even the grand-master might not have a key ; the commander of
the city of Jerusalem had charge of the True Cross in time of
war. There were twelve or perhaps more commanders or preceptors
of the different provinces and kingdoms of Europe and Asia, —
Jerusalem fkingaom and aty), Acre, Tripoli, Antioch, France.
England, Poitou, Aragon, Portugal, Apulia, and Hungary. No
European preceptor could cross the sea without the grand-masters
leave , but all ought to be present at the election to this office.
The privileges and duties of every member wtre strictly prescribed,
from the number of horses he might ride and the amount of food
be might eat to the colour of his clothes. The order seems to have
owned a 0eet, part of nluch, if not all, was under the authority of
the commander of the kingdom Besides the knights aod men-ai-
arms, the society reckoned chaplains in its rank^; , and it was the
habit of confession to these priests that seems to have stirred the
wrath of the Dominicans and the Franciscans, who played £ very
conspicuous part in the overthrow of the ordfr, especially in England
For gyievous offences, such as desertion to the Saracens, hereby, or
losing the gonfalon, a Templar might be e.^ pel led :j>erdre la vunsLm}-.
for minor offences, such as disobedience or lowering the banner id
battle, he suffered a temporary degradation {jtcnirf. son ahiU By
a mutual agreement the Templars and Hospital I f^rs. aespite their
long aud deadly feud, were bound not to receive ejected members
of the rival order , and the Templar cut off in battle and defeat
from all hope of rejoining his own ranks might rally to the cross
of St John. As Acre was the headqu.irters of the order in the
East, so Pans was its centre m the West iMatt. Pans, v 4/8).
Every member before admission must decb"* hiui.<y^If free of debt,
sound of body, and affiliated to no other religious socictv . he must
also »aJie a vow of obedience and chastity, at the sanje I. rue rt-
164 TEMPLARS
n" his private property and dedicating his future life to the
^■nJ. The order prided itself specially on the splendour of
nounci ^ , . . -
Holy Und The order prided .
its relirious services, the abundance of its alms, and its reckless
valour for the Christian faith. At the time of Us suppression it
iras calculated to number 15,000 members. Three MSb. of its
ancient statutes, written in Old French, are still eitant at Dijon,
at Paris, and at Rome. Of these the first was transcnbed about
1-200 the last tvvo from 1250 to 1300. They have been published
by M. Maillard de Chambure (Paris, 1840).
oapp«9P A scheme for the union of the three great military orders into
«ionof one had received the sanction of Gregory X. and Louis l.V, of
tb.- order Nicholas IV. and Boniface VIII. The recovery of the Holy Land
»-as the dream of the last pope's highest ambition ; and when he
died a prisoner in the hands of Philip IV. of France this king con-
tinued U) advocate the plan for his own purposes. His gold or
influence secured the election of Clement V. as pope (5th June 1305).
According to a slightly later tradition, before consenting to the
new pope's appointment he exacted from him an oath to assist in
carrying out six propositions, one of which he would not disclose
as yet This sixth condition, if it ever existed, must have been
the suppression 'of the Templars ; and, whether false or true,
Villanis story emphasizes a popular and almost contfempcrary
opinion. It is known that Philip was urging Clement in this
direction before the latter's' coronation at Lyons on 14th ^ovembe^
1305 and all through the two succeeding years. On 6th June
1306 the pope summoned the grand-master from Cyprus to France.
James de Molai obeyed the caU, and, hearing of the charges against
his order, demanded a prompt investigation. In this demand he
was supported by the leading Templars of the realm. Clement,
who disbelieved the accusations, fenced with the question. But,
though only.n very short time pre>-iously Philip had spoken of
hU special love for the order, and though it had sheltered him
from the fury of the Paris mob in 1306, he was now determined
on its destruction. Its wealth would fill the royal coffers, and the
rumours of the day afforded a ready engine for its overthrow.
For perhaps half a century there had been strange stones circulat-
g as to the secret ntes practised by the order at its midnight
Accusa-
CIODS.
meetings. It was said that on his initiation each member had to
disavow his behef in God and Christ, to spit upon the crucifix, to
submit to indecent ceremonies, and to sa-ear never to reveal the
secrets of the society or disobey the mandates of a grand-master.
who claimed full power ofabsolution. When the mass was celebrated
the consecrating words " Hoc est corpus" were omitted ; on Good
Friday the holy cross was trampled under foot , and the ChrisUan
duty of almsgiving had ceased to be observed. Even the vaunted
chastity of the order towards women had, it was said, been turned
into a sanction for more horrible offences. These evil practices
were part of the secret statute law of an order which in its nightly
assemblies worshipped hideous four-footed figures,— a cat or a calf
In England the very children at their play bade one another beware
of a. Templar's kisses. Stranger stories yet were rife in this country
ind gravely reported before bishops and priests,— of children slam
by their fathers because they chanced to witness the nightly orgies
f the society ; of one prior's being spirited awaj' at every meeting
)f the general chapter ; of the great preceptor a declaring that a
single hair of a Saracen's beard was worth more than the whole
body of a Christian man. In France they were said to roast ihcir
illegitimate children and smear their idols with the burning fat.
Suppres. For nearly two years Philip waited for Clement to fulfil his
sion of ' bargain A certain Templar from the prisons of.Toulouse now
order in' offered to put the king in possession of a secret that would be worth
France ,' a realm Acting on the evidence of this informer, Philip issued
orders (Hth September 1307) for the arrest of all the Templars m
France on the night of Frid.iy, 13th October. He seems to have
wiitten to the neighbouring princes urfnng them to act in the same
uay James de .Molai was seized with sixty of his brethren in Parii
On Saturday they were brought before the university of Pans to
hear the enumeration of their crimes ; and on Sunday the Paris mob
was fathered in the royal gardens, where preachers were inveighing
against the iniquities of the order. The inouisitors began their
»"ork at once ; and inhuman tortures forced the most horrible
avowals from the lips of many. In Paris alone thirty-six Templars
died under torture ' Of 140 Templars examined at Paris between
I'jth October and 24th November 1307, the experience of some of
whom extended over nearly half a century, there is hardly one who
4lid not admit the dishonouring of the crucifix at his reception.
Very many confessed to other charges, even of the worst description.
Clement V., although he suspended the inquisitors' powers on 27th
October (Loiselenr, 159), bef^ore the end of the next moBlh. wrote
to Edward II. to arrest all the English Templars, who were accord-
Ingljr seized on lOlh January 1308. About the same time they
■were arrested m Sicily (24.h January) and in Cyprus (27th May).
is Clement did not move fast enough, Philip went to Poitiers
with 700 armed men, and the pope was at his mercy It was agreed
■that the pnsoners, their lands, and their money should 1-. nominally
placed In the hands of Clement's commissioners. Tne power of
' "l^Skbeltt, JVoos, L 39: Qruelle, S5. ic
the inquisitors was restored (5th July) ; and the property forfeited
was to be devoted to the recovery of the Holy Land Clement
now gave orders for fresh diocesan inquiries into the guilt ol the
Templars. He had already heard the confessions of seventy two
at Poitiers (29th June to 1st July). The grand-niastec and the
three preceptors were re-examined at Chinon, and renewed their old
confessio.is (20th August). Lastly, the bull Kcgnans in Culo sum;
moned a great council at Vienne for 1st October 1310, when the
question of the guilt of the order might be considered The'
diocesan councils were only empowered to inquire into the conduct'
of individuals.
The trial began on llth April 1310. ' On 23d April Reginald Je Tbe
Pniino protested against the unfairness of the proceedings On trial
Tuesday, 12th May, fifty-four Templars were burnt by order of the
archbishop of Sens, and a few days later four more Next day the
terror spread (19th May). Forty-six Templars withdrew their de
fence and the commissioners decided (30th May) to adjourn till
November. The second examination lasted from 18th December
1310 to 5th June 1311 Meanwhile (c April 1311) Clement and
Philip had come to terms The pope condemned the Templars.
The council of Vienne met in October 1311. A discussion arose
as to whether the TempLirs should be heard in their own defence.
Clement, it is said, broke up the session to avoid compliance ; and
when seven Templars offered themselves as deputies for the defence
he had them cast into prison. Towards the beginmng of March
Philip came to Vienne, and he was seated at the pope's right hand
when that pontiff delivered his sermon a^inst the Templars (3d
AprU 1312), whose order had just been abolished, not at the general
council, but in private consistory (22d March) On 2d May 1312
he published the bull Ad Providam, transferring the goods of the
society, except for the kingdoms of Castile, Aragon. Portugal, and
Majorca, to the Knights of St John. The order was never formally
pronounced guilty of the crimes laid to its charge ; its abolition
was distinctly, in the Urms of Clement's bull CoTisidcranUs Dudum,
"non per modum definitive sententise, cum earn sujier hoc secun-
dum inquisitiones et processus super his habitns Don possemus
ferre de jure sed per viam provisionis et ordinationis apostohca^
(Cth May 1312). . , ,
. The individual members of the order seem to have been left to
the judgment of provincial councils. They were divided into three
classes,— (1) those who confessed at once , (2) those who persisted
in denial of the charges , (3) those who. havin" confessed at first,
withdrew their confessions later on the plea that they had been
extracted by torture. The penalties for the three classes were
respectively (1) penitence, (2) perfetual imprisonment, (3) death by
fire. The cases of the grand-master, the visitor of France, and the
masters of Aquiuino and Normandy were reserved for the pope's
decision. Earlyjn 1314 they were (oR-ed to make a public con
fession in Notre Dame, and had already been condemned to per-
petual imprisonment when the grand-master and the preceptor of
Normandy publicly proclaimed their entire innocence. The king,
without consulting the church, had them burnt " in the little island '
of the Seine "between the Augnstinians and the royal garden
The opinion that the monstrous charges brought against the Quesiiou
Templars were false and the confessions were only extracted by of then
torture is supported by the general results of the investigation (in gu.li oi
almost every countrv outside France), as we have them collected in muo-
Raynouard, Labbe, and Du Piiy In Castile, where the king fiuDg ceoc.
them into prison, they were acquitted at the council of Salamanca
In Aragon, where they held out for a time in their fortresses against
the royal power, the council of Tarragona proclaimed in their favoui
(4th November 1312). In Portugal the commissioners reported
that there -were no grounds for accusation. At M.iinz the council
monounced the order blameless At Treves, at Messina, and at
Bologna, in Romagna and in Cyprus, they were either acquitted or
no evidence was forthcoming .igainst them. At the. council ol
Ravenna the question as to whether toituie should be used was
answered in tlic negative except by t\to Dominicans . all the
Templars were absolved,— even those who had confessed through
fear of torture being pronounced innocent (18th June 1310) Six
Templars were examined at Florence, and their evidence is tor lU
length the most remarkatile of all that is still extant. Roughly
speaking, they confess with the most elaborate detai to every
charge,- even the most lo.ithsome ; and the [Kiusal of then
evidence induces a constant suspicion that their answers were
practically dictated to them in the process of the examinaUon oi
invented by the witnesses themselves^ In England, where perhaps
torture was not used, out of eighty Tcniplai-s examined only four
confessed to the charge of denying Christ, and of these four twe
were apostate knights. But some English Templars would only
arantee the purity of their own country. That in England as
I
elsewhere the charges were held to be not absolutely proved seems
evident from the form of confession to be used belore absolution,
in which the Templars acknowledge themselves to be defamed lo
the matter of certain articles that they cannot purge themselrM
In England nearly all the worst evidence comes at second or third
> See til e evidcQM m full »l'. Loiieleuj. ftp 172-212
T E M — T E M
165
I
htnd or through the depositions of FnnciscaDS and Dominicans.
Vet it can hardly be doubted that the "spuitio super crucem "
did form <a part of the initiation ceremony. Even the English
Templars admitted that the statutes of the order were one and the
tame all the world over ; and there is no setting aside the consist-
tnt endenoe of almost every French Templar as to his guilt in this
matter. Of the other charges the most revolting may have origin-
ited in the abuse and misinterpretation of a licence primarily
jitended for military emergencies. Such at least is the form it
leems to take in the evidence of John Senand (ap. Mich., ii. p. 137).
k debased mind might misinterpret this concession and translate
,t mto coarser words, till (this part of the initiation ceremony being
probably conducted in private, as, most certainly, was the spitting
>n the cross) there mi^t be two formolAnes current in the order,
>f which the second was plainly immoral, whereas the first was
perfectly harmless unless coupled with a lous-auendre. So too
ihth r^ard to the spuiiw. One Templar says plainly that he
uwk it for a joke, — pro tru/a , othere regarded it as an Imitation
}f St Peter's denial ; a modem writer has soggested that the custom
iras mtecded as a symbol of absolute obedience (ap. Mich., ii 260).
There is little doubt that most member? looked upon the ceremony
■nth disgust. Some salved their consciences by the excuse that
they were denj'ing Jesus and not Christ ; another when shown the
crucifix denied his belief in the painted figure. Nearly all declared
that they had spat near but not upon the cross, and denied Christ
" non corde sed ore." Men who could thus play with their own
consciences at their initiation might well, when their lives were in
peril, dothe a falsehood in the garb of truth by denying " spuitio
Bupcr crucem " instead of confessing to ' ' spuitio jux^ crucem. "
The other charges stand upon a somewhat similar footing. The
oower of lay absolution might easily be developed out of the harm-
less words vith which the master or preceptor dismissed his chapter.
The cordnla which Templars were accused of wearing in honour
of theu idol take a very different appearance as the "zones of
jhasnty " cr "belt of Nazareth" worn in accordance with St Ber-
narj's pretept With regard to the charge of idolatry the evidence
is very cooBicting. In France and at Florence a large proportion
of the members confessed to indecent kissing (oscula iiOujTt^sta) at
their initiation ; but hardly a single English Templar admitted the
charge, and one French witness suggested an almost ludicrous ex-
planation of the rumour. Here also a simple ceremony of respect
or humiliation seems to have been expanded into one of shame-
lessness ; but the evidence is too strong to admit of its being ex-
plained away, at least in France.
Oo^lnn- Not a few witnesses confessed that they had b^n called upon to
tl srrors. declare Chnst a false prophet, who suffered for His own sins and not
for the race, and to believe only in a superior God of the heavens
{Veum cali sitperiorem). One Florence witness admits that the
idol was worshipped as God and Savi.^ur. It was this bead, ac-
cording to one of the witnesses, that could make the order rich and
cause the earth to bud and the trees to blossom. A Carcassonne
Templar spoke of the idol (Raynouard, 241) as a/rieiwf of God, who
converses with God when he wishes. On such evidence M. Loiseleur
holds that the Templars were members of a secret religion, which
combined the hereticsd teachings of the Bogomilians and the Lnci-
ferians. The former, "the friends of God," believed in a Supreme
Deity, whose eldest son Satanael was the creator of oar world after
his revolt against his father, and whose younger son Jesus was
made man to counteract the evil deeds of nis brother. They did
not venerate the cross, regarding it as the instrument of Christ's
passion. The Luciferians, on the other hand, worshipped the eldest
son. who had power over all the riches of this world. M. Loiseleur
has shown some remarkable coincidences, verbal and otherwise, be-
tween the creed of these two sects and that of the Templars, who,
according to him, borrowed from the former their belief in the
Supreme Deity and from the latter their devotion to the God of
this earth. It seems, however, doubtful whether he is justified in
combining the several items of snch scattered evidence into a com-
plete doctrinal system. His argument might be turned against
himself ; for, if these heresies were so widely spread in medisval
Europe, are they not for that reason those most likely to be
ascribed to an unpopular order t
On the whole it may perhaps be admitted that the charges of
' ' spuitio " and ' ' osculatio inhonesta " were current, at least sporadi-
cally, for fifty years before the suppression of the order. ' They
may have become more general in the time of Thomas Beraud« the
grand-master (who died 1273), according to the evidence of the pre-
ceptor of Aqnitaine. On the death of William de Beaujeu (1291)
there were two rivals for the office of grand-master, — Hugh de
Peraud, the visitor of France, and James de Molai. The latter in
1291, at a general chapter, had declared his intention of extirpating
certain practices in the order of which he did not approve ' ; while,
if we may trust the French witnesses, the most vigorous initiator
according to the new method was Hugh de Peraud. This exactly
fits in with the account' that the errors were introduced after
' See Mich., il 6-11. = Mich., ii 139, 247. = Mich., ii. 132.
William de Beanjen's death. In other words, it is probable that
the party of Hugh de Peraud between 1290 and 1307 made a
desperate effort to enforce the new ceremonies and the new doc-
trines throughout France and England. The custom of "spuitio,"
at all events, was verj- ancient, and Hugh de Peraud devoted his
energies to the propagation of the "osculatio inhonesta." This
would explain the omission of all allusion to the latter ceremony
when the English Templars were absolved ; for they wonld not
confess to a practice of which they were innocent. This theory
likewise goes a long way tow.irds interpreting both the confession
and the denial of James de Molai and the general acquittal of the
Templars in nearly all the councils outside France. (T. A. A.)
TEMPLE. The temple is an institution common to Meaning.
religions of natural growth which have reached a certain
stage, and in most languages bears a name expressing that
it is the house or palace erected by men as a habitation
for their god* (Greek, laos; Hebrew, kekal, "palace," or
beth elohim, " house of God " ; Latin, ades sacrs). In
this connexion the term " house of God " has quite a
different sense from that which we connect with it when
we apply it to a Christian place of worship. A temple is
not a meeting-place for worshippers ; for many ancient
temples were open only to priests, and as a general rule
the altar, which was the true place of worship, stood not
within. the house but before the door. The temple is the
dwelling-house of the deity to which it is consecrated,
whose presence is marked by a statue or other sacred
symbol; and in it his sacred treasures, the gifts and tribute
of his worshippers, are kept, under the charge of his
attendants or priests. Again, a temple implies a sanctu-
ary ; but a sanctuary or holy spot does not necessarily
contain a temple. A piece of land may be reserved for
the deity without a dwelling-house being erected to
him upon it, and a sacred tree, stone, or altar, with
the holy precinct surrounding it, may be recognized as a
place where the worshipper can meet his god and present
his offerings, although no temple is attached. Indeed the
conception of a holy place, separated from profane use,
is older than the beginnings of architecture ; and natural
objects of worship, such as trees and stones, which need
no artificial protection or official keeper, are older than
images enshrmed under roofs and protected by walls and
doors. All antique religion is essentially altar- worship
(see Sacrifice), and for ritual purposes the altar
always continued to be the true centre of the sanctuary.
But the altar is only a modification of the sacred stone
(comp. Priest, voL xix. p. 726), and it has already
been observed that, even in later times, the chief altar of
a sanctuary stood outside the temple. In the oldest and
most primitive forms of religion the sacred stone is at
once the place where gifts are offered and the material
sign of the presence of the deity ; thus the temple with
its image belongs to a later development, in which the
significance of the sacred stone is divided between tha
altar outside the door and the idol, or its equivalent,
within. But in many very ancient sanctuaries the place
of a temple is taken by a natural Or artificial grotto (e.^,
the Phcenician Astarte grottoes, the grotto of Cynthus
in Delos), or else the temple is built over a subterranean
opening (as at Delphi) ; and, while this may be in- part
explaineu as connected with the cult of telluric deities, oi
the worship of the dead, it seems not unreasonable to
think that in their origin cave temples may date back to
the time when caves were commonly used as human habit-
ations, that the altar in frcat of the temple had its proto-
type in altars at the mouths of sacred caves, which were
approached with holy Tear and not entered by ordinary
worshippers, and that thcs some of the main features of
the ancient temple were fixed from the first by theanalogy
* Tcmplum properly denotes a spot inargurated for the observation
of auspices by the augurs. But at Rome most mies sacrs ■were aluo
tcmplCt and so the terms came to be used as synonymous.
166
TEMPLE
of more primitive sauctuaries. The inJluence of the cave
lemple seems at least to be undeniable in that widespread
type of sanctuary in which, besides the court for the
worshippers and an outer chamber, there was a dark and
mysterious inner room, an adytum or Holy of Holies.
This type is found m Egypt (see Abchitectuee, vol. ii.
V 388 and plate VII ), among the Semites, as in the
temple at Jerusalem and in that of Hierapolis {De Dea
Sy 1 § 31), and also among the Greeks and Ropians. ._ In
Greece the adytum was not a universal feature, though
large temples usually had an antechamber as well as the
cella or proper chamber of the god. But, where an oracle
was given, or mysteries were celebrated, an adytum was
always found, and one of its names was /teyapoc, which
seems to be a transcription of a Semitic word for a cave
(meghara). Certain adyta in Greece were actually sub-
terranean ; and the association o£ oracles with caves is
well known.
The architectural features and plan of temples in various
parts of the world have been illustrated at length in the
article AECHiTECTtTEE, and need not detain us here, but
some further notice of the successive temples at Jerusalem
isj called for by the unique interest of the subject, while
a glance at the topographical problems connected with
this holy site is necessary to supplement the article
Jercsalem.
Solo- 1 . The Temple of Solomon. — ^"lliere were temples among
mon s the Hebrews before the time of Solomon, whether private,
'*"" ' like that of Micah (Judges xvii. 5), or public, like that of
Sliiloh, where the ark was housed for a time (see Tabee-
nacle). In this, as in other matters, the Israelites must
h.xve learned from the Canaanites, who had large temples
in the time of the Judges. The "hold" (vault?) of the
ti.'mple of El-Derith at Shechem was the place of refuge
for a thousand men (Judges ix. 46 sq.), and at Gaza there
V as a vast temple with a roof supported on two middle
uillars (Judges xvi. 29). Solomon's enterprise was not
tUerefore absolutely novel, and in point of size his temple
can hardly have surpassed those just mentioned. But his
subjects were much behind the Canaanites and Philistines
in the constructive arts, and as Solomon had to call in tie
aid of Tyrian craftsmen it cannot be questioned that the
rlcsign was derived from Tyrian architecture. The general
plan, indeed, of the house or " palace " {kekaVj of Jehovah,
wiih an adytum (delAr, E.V. "oracle"), an outer chamber,
r.nd an altar before the door, is, as we have seen, common
to many countries, especially in temples which had an
oracle, as was the case with Solomon's temple, built to
contain the ark. But all the distinctive features are
riianiciaii, or at least characteristic of the northern
Ijcmitcs, of whose art the Phoonicians were then the lead-
ing exponents. For the general arrangements the temple
r.f Hicrajiolis (Mabbog), described by Lucian, offers a
complete parallel. Like that of Solomon, it faced the
oast, and had two cellce and,a pronaos. The interior was
enriched with gold work. Before the door stood a brazen
altar within a walled court. The walled court is a con-
stant feature in the Phoenician and Syrian temples, knomi
to us from their remains or from coins,' and the golden
decorations, the portico, and the brazen altar appear in the
ancient temple of Byblus and in other Phoenician shrines
(C.I S , Nos. 2, 143). The chief motives in the internal
d'.coration of Solomon's temple were the palm tree and
the cliciub. The former is one of the commonest
Pluvnirian synnbol.s, and the Phirnician associations of the
latter are clear fnmi F./ck. xxviii. The cherub, in fact, is
only a variety of the sphinx, ami the way in which the
palm and winged animal fignrcs were cniiibincd in,
Se€ T. i. I>on:iM>.on, Arehttectura JViimismatiLa (Lnihloii, l.'*59);
lU-nao, aV'Asion rf? l*liln\jctc ; ri.rrot atul Cltii-iez, Uist. tfi: l\li(, vol. iii.^
Phoenician decoration is shown in a fragment of alabaste?
preserved in the Louvre and here figured (fig. 1) after
Perrot (op. dt., iil. 131). Two cherubs \vith outstretched
wings stood in the ^^'•^'iT— «<7X~-^1
adytum to form a .^rty^^\^^^^^^^^it^^
baldachin over the ^.^J^^X'^s^X^^JyH
ark. Baldachins ^^^^£S£i^^
over the image or S^^jJjJjl^^^/^fiAfJijfjJ'J'A
symbol of the deity
existed in other
temples of the
northern Semites
(Donaldson, o^.ct*.,
pp. 73, 76 sq., 99),
and in many Phoe-
nician works of art
(e.g., on the stele of
Byblus) the figure
orsymbolof adeity
isovershadowed by
the winged disk
(an Assyrian sym-
bol of godhead) ar-
ranged as a sort of
canopy (M^nant, Glypliqut Oriental, ii. 2S1, 238).
The adytum of the temple was a cube of 20 cubits eacS
way; the outer chamber was of the same breadth, but 40
cubits long and 30 high.^ The portico was of the breadth
of the main building and 10 cubits deep. That the two
chambers were separated by a solid wall and not by a mere
wooden partition may be taken as certain if, with Stade,
we understand 1 Kings vi. 31 to say-that the doorway of
the adytum was pentagonal, i.e., that instead of a hori-
zontal lintel a rude arch of two blocks was introduced to
distribute the pressure of the superincumbent wall. In
this case it is not likely that the exterior w-alls of the
adytum were carried up to a height of 30 cubits., so as to
allow of a continuous roof. The reduction of the dimensions
to English feet is approximately determined by the Siloam
itEcription, which gives a round number of 1200 eubits
for a measured length of 1760 feet. The Hebrew cubit,
therefore, was the short cubit of antiquity, and for practi-
cal purposes may be taken as equal to the Greek cubit ol
18 inches, tised by Josephus for the measurements ot
Herod's temple. "Thus the roof-beams of the temple bad
a span of 30 feet, a length sufficient to make it probabde
that the wooden pillars spoken of in 1 Kings x. 1 2 (oomjj.
2 Kings xviii. 16) were employed to support them. The
roof of the temple at Gaza rested on piljars, as we have
seen, and wooden pillars seem to have.-been used within
the temple at Golgus (Cesnola, Cyprvs, p. 139), which
was smaller than that of Jerusalem. A peculiar feature
in Solomon's temple was that all its sides e.\cept the front
were surrounded by three stories (each 5 cubits high) of
small chambers, 5 cubits wide on the ground floor, 6 on
the first floor, and 7 on the second, the increasing breadth
being evidently got by reducing the thickness of the walk
by 1 cubit at each floor.' Thus, allowing for the walls,
the external me.t.surements of the house cannot have been
much less than 15 cubits by 90. The aspect of the facade
can only bo conjccturally determined. Several Phcenician
temijks, known from coins, show on their fa(;ade a high-
pitclicd g.able (P.yblus, Tripolis), and tliat of Tripolis ha*
also a flat-i'oofcd wing on each side of the g.ible and portico,
which would answer to the ends of the side chambers in
., - Tlic lies. i'i]>tiou of llie iciiii-l*^ ni I Knigs is otipu ol'Scnre .ni.l tliv
tuxl is itnt nlwnys sound. Cp. SuiiJc'.'s css.tv id Z. f. ATtuIn: Wiis.,
issrs. p. 1-23 s.,-
^ III siuli i^iiinll clirtoihcpt tie wiuiltug st.air (1 Kings v\. %\ C3ii
Ii.irilly hnvc liivii more lli^ni .1 verltc.il nost TiCb iTnntboldft luO^ to
it (Prof. J. ll.._MiH.IWoii)
TEMPLE
167
our temple. But perhaps the closest analogy to the
frontispiece of Solomons temple is the often-cited one of
the temple at Paphos, of which a
representation from a coin is an-
nexed (fig. 2). Here the portico be-
tween the side wings is flanked by
two slender towers, and in the end
of the nave above the door there
are square-topped windows. Splo-
(uon's temple had " windows of
beams " (or " with horizontal hn-
tels") "framed in," which, as Pro-
fessor J. H. Middleton observes, is
naturally explained on the analogy of the windows be-
tween the beams in the wooden gables of Coptic churches.
This 13 the obvious position of openings for light m
buildings the type of which was derived from wooden
constructions, and we know that the oldest Phoenician
templea were, at least in great part, of wood (Utica; Pliny,
H.N.. rvi. 79; comp. Jos., C Ap., i. 17, 18, and Solo-
mons house of the forest of Lebanon). That Solomon's
temple had towers cannot be proved, for the height of the
porch is cot given in Kings, and the 120 cubits of 2 Chiron.
iiL 4 is obviously an excessive figure, due to a mistake of
the wnter or of a copyist. . But the fact that in fcekiel's
ideal temple the door-posts of the porch are 5 cubits broad
makes the existence of slender turrets like those of Paphos
on each side of the portal probable. Another feature of
Solomon's temple is exactly reproduced at Paphos. On
each side of the door the coin shows a fantastic pillar
i*anding free. Solomon erected two such pillars of bronze,
li cubits high (1 Kings vii. 15 sq.), with capitals of " Lily
■work," «.?., adorned with lotus flowers, like the Phoenician
capital from Cjrprus figured by Perrot {op. nt., p. 116).
Such twin pillars or twin stelae in stone are of constant
occurrence m Phn?nician sacred art, and are still familiar
to us as the Pillars of Hercules. In Solomon's temple
both the oracle and the outer cella had folding doors. In
the second and third temples the inuer door was replaced
by a vail (pdrdkheih), and a vail also hung before the outer
door (Mai. i. 10 , 1 Mac. i. 22, iv. 51 ; B. J., v. 5, § 4 sq.).
The Chronicler (2 Chron. iii. 14) introduces a vail in the
first temple This feature also seems to be common to
the temple with other Semitic shrines (comp. C./.'S., No.
86, 0310, Assyr. parakku, Syriac prakke, "shnnes," and
the Kaaba at Mecca).'
The temple had an ijjner coun of its omi (1 Kings n 36), but
the outer or ^cat court (1 Kings vii. 12) was the court of the p»alace
A3 well as of the sauctuary. Details as to the position of the courts
iDd buildings must be reserv-'d till we speak of the site, but it
•nay be noticed that Jer. xxxvi. 10 speaks of the "higher court,"
»o which the " new gate " of the temple belonged This new gate
<o the higher court can hardly be different from the " higher gale "
built by jotham (2 Kings xv. 35j, or from the "higher gate' of
Beoiamin, which, in Jer. xi. 2, is not the city gate of that name.
»ut a gate "in" (not "by" as E.V.) "the house of the Lord "
from Its name this gate must have been on the north side or at the
■oorth-east angle of the temple area, so that the ground rose to the
north or north-east. The upper court may be merely the upper
part of the great court near the " higher gate " leading to the
palace ( 2 Chron. xxiii. 20), or may be the s-ime as the '* new court "
if 2 Chron. xx. 5. But one cannot be sure that the Chronicler is
QOt transferring to Jehoshaphat's time a new court of the second
temple. We know, however, that the kings of Judah made from
time to time considerable changes m and about the tem.ple
2. The Temple of Zeruhbabel. — After the captivity an
altar of stone took the place of the brazen altar, or rather
perhaps of the altar of Ahaz (2 Kings xvi 10 nq.) The
altar was erected immediately after the return (Ezra iii.
' Op. also the vail of Assyn.in tissue given by Antiochus to the
temple at Olympia (Pausan., v. 12, § 4), whidi Gauneja {'Quarterly
StalfmenI, April 1878) boldly ideutifies with the v.iil of the temple
tlijt Antiochus Epipbanes carried off from Jerusalem (1 Mac, i. 22 ;
Jo9 , Ant,. \u. 5, § 4).
2); but the rebuilding of the temple was long delayed, and
the work was not completed till 520 B.C. (see Haggai).
It was much inferior to the first temple in magnificence,
though not perhaps in size (Haggai ii. 3). The proposed
breadth of 60 cubits and height of 60 cubits spoken of in
Ezra VI. 3 would indeed imply that it was larger than the
first temple, but in view of the testimony of Haggai (loc.
ext.) It seems ualikely that these dimensions were realized
by Zerubbabel.
The first temple resembled other temples of antiquity
m being built to contain a visible symbol of the presence
of the deity, namely, the ark, which stood in the inner
chamber In the second temple the adytum was empty,
but the idea that the Godhead was locally present in it
still found expression in the continuance of the altar service,
in the table of showbread (a sort of contmual leciisterjiium)
that stood in the outer chamber, and above all in the
annual ritual of the day of atonement, when the high
priest entered the Holy of Holies to sprinkle the blood of
the expiatory sacrifice on behalf of the people. Not only
in this point but in all others the ritual of the second
temple was dominated by the idea of pnestly mediation,
and the stated sacntices of the. priests on behalf of the
people, which replaced the old stated oblations of the
kings, became the main feature of the altar service. The
first temple was primarily the royal chapel, and the kings
did as they pleased in it ; the second temple was tho
sanctuary of the priests, whose chief now became the
temporal as well as the spintual head of the people. In
the time of Ezekiel not only laymen but uncircumcised
foreigners entered the sanctuary and acted as servants in
the sacred offices (Ezek. xliv. 7) ; m the second temple
the laity were anxiously kept at a distance from the holy
thmgs, and even part of the court around the altar was
fenced off by a barrier, which only the priests were allowed
to cross (Joseph., Am., xiii. 13, § 5). Bemg no longer
hemmed in by the royal buildings, as the first temple had
been (Ezek. xlin. 8), its prccmcts could be expanded to
suit the necessities of the enormous host of ministers of
various ranks demanded by the growing complexity of
the ritual, which, in matters of music and the like, was
immensely developed as time went on (comp. Psalms).
Herod's temple, with the dependent buildings, was a little
city enclosed in its own fortifications. But long before
his time the temple was a sort of priestly citadel, the
fortress as well as the sanctuary of the hierocracy ; and
the sacred offenngs which flowed to Jerusalem from Jews
in all parts ot the world were lavishly expended on enlarg-
ing and strengthening it (Jos., B.J., v. 5, § 1 ). The name
of Simon II. (c. 200 B.C.) is associated m Ecclus. L 1 sq.
with important works of fortification on the circuit of the
temple. Twice ruined in the wars with the Seleucids,
these bulwarks were twice rebuilt, by Judas and Jonathan
Maccabaeus (1 Mac. vi 7 , Jos., Ant., xiii. 5, § 11). The
works were further strengthened by Simon (1 Mac. xiii.
52), and at the time of Pompey's siege (63 B.C.) constituted
an almost impregnable fastness, strengthened on its weakest
or northern side by great towers and a deep ditch (Ant., xiv.
4, § 2). Twenty-six years later the temple was again be-
sieged by Herod, who, attacking, like Pompey, from the
north, had to force three lines of defence, — the city wall
and the outer and inner temple (Ant., xiv. 16, § 2).
Of the temple as it was in the Greek or the H.ismor.ean period
we have two descriptions by Hellenistic Jews, Pscudo - .iristi^us
(comp. Septuaoint) and Pseudo-Hecat,-eus (Jos., C. Ap., i. 22). In
such a matter we may suspect even notorious literary forgers of care-
lessness and exaggeration rather than of ahsohue untruth. Pseudo-
Aristeus describes the temple as surrounded ty a triple circuit of
walls more than 70 cubits high, and as further protected by the
adjoining Acra, which overlooked the place of s.ncrilice. Comparing
the account of Kerod's siege, wc may perhaps take the third circuit
to be the vr,ill of the towu, which is ropiescute.l as lying below ths
168
TEMPLE
temple on the same hilL The upper city on the western hill is
ignored, which seems to show that the account was written before
the Hasmonean period (comp. Jfrcsalem, vol. liiL p 641), as has
been argued on other grounds in Septuagint. The Acra, which is
often mentioned in the history of the Maccabee wars, seems to have
been on the same site as the Baris or castle of the Hasmonean
priest-princes, where they put on their priestly robes before doing
sacrifice {ArU.,iv. 11, § 4). That the Baria was close to the temple
appears both from this circumstance and from the fact that Anti-
gonus was charged vrith setting fire to the porticoes of the temple
Suring the siege by Herod {Anl., xiv. 16, § 2), — an ao-usation which
would have nad no plausibility unless the destruction of the
porticoes had been useful to isolate the castle. Pseudo-Hecataeus
gives the temple precincts a length of 500 feet and a breadth of
100 cubits. The explanatioD of these numbers will appear in the
sequel,
fierod'a 3. Tlu Temple of Eerod. — In the eighteenth year of his
temple, reign (20-19 B.C.) Herod the Great began to rebuild the
temple and its precincts from the foundation, doubling
the old area {Ant, xv. 11 , Bell. Jud., i 21). The works
included the reconstruction, on the old site, of the Baris,
which now received the name of Antonia, and is generally
reckoned by Josephus as forming part of the temple
precincts. Apart from the Antonia, the temple area formed
a quadrangular plateau supported by retaining walls of
great height and strength, and surrounded by porticoes.
Three of the porticoes were double walks, 30 cubits broad,
with monolith pillars 25 cubits high, and cedar roofs;
the fourth or southern portico (the Stoa Basilica) had four
rows of Corinthian pillars and three walks, respectively
30, 45, and 30 cubits in breadth. The middle walk was
twice the height of the aisles, and the latter were 50
feet high. As regards the size of this enclosure, we are
told by Josephus that the Stoa Basilica was a stadium or
600 feet long {Ant., xv. 11, § 5); and in AnX., xx. 9, § 7,
the same length is assigned to the eastern colonnade, which
was known as Solomon's Porch (comp. John x. 23; Acts iiL
1 1 and V. 12), because it, and it alone, rested on an ancient
substructure held to be the work of Solomon. The whole
circuit of the porticoes was therefore 4 stadia,' or with
the Antonia 6 stadia {B J., v. 5, § 2). The Antonia lay
on the north side {Ant., xv. 11, § 4) and communicated by
stairs with the north and west porticoes at the north-west
angle of the enclosure. Fergusson and others suppose that
it touched the temple only at this angle, thence stretching
north and west. But in this case the Antonia, which, as
we shall see below, lay just north of Wilson's arch, would
have been built over the hollow of the Tyropoeon vaUey, a
supposition absurd in itself and inconsistent with B.J., v.
5, § S, which says that it stood on a cliff. Again, the
tower 70 cubits high that stood at the south-east angle of
the Antonia overlooked the whole temple, just as we know
from Pseudo-Aristasus that the old Acra overlooked the
altar But, if the south-east angle of the Antonia had
been, as Fergusson supposes, at the north-west angle of
the temple porticoes, the view from the tower would have
been intercepted by the lofty porch in front of the Holy
Place. The Antonia, therefore, had its south face along
part of the north face of the temple enclosure, and to gain
a circuit of 6 stadia for temple and Antonia together we
must assign to the latter the length of a stadium from north
to south. This is not too much, for Josephus describes it
as a little town in itself {B.J., v. 5, § 8).
. The Antonia, the porticoes, and the space immediately
within them (the outer court, or, as modern writers call it,
the court of the Gentiles) were not holy ground. But in
'This measurement {Ant., zv. \\, %Z) has often been taken to refer
to Solomon's temple. But this view is not demanded by the words of
Josephus, and is inconsistent with the other measurements be gives
and with li.J., v, 6, § 1, which states that the plateau was levelled up
by Solomon only on the east. This from the lie of the contour liuey
makes a plateau 600 feet square impossible. The Mishnah makes the
"mountain of the bouse" a square of 500 cubits, apparently borrowing
from Ezekiel.
the middle of the enclosure there was a platform raised
15 cubits above the court cf the Gentiles and fenced off
by a barrier, with inscriptions, one of which still exist*
{Pakitine E. F. Quarterly Statement, 1871, p. 132), forbid-
ding aliens to pass on pain o£ death. The platform was
approached by steps on all sides but the west {B.J., v.
1, § 5, and 5, § 2), and was surrounded by a wall, rising 25
cubits above the inner level, and pierced by four gatesion
the north side and as many on the south. On the 'jvest
there was no gate, but on the east — that is, in front of the
fane — there were two, one within the other; for the eastern
end of the platform was walled off to form a separate court
for the women, at a somewhat lower level One of the
northern and one of the southern gates belonged to the
court of the women, but it was also entered directly from
the east by a very splendid gate of Corinthian brass, much
more costly than the others, though they were overlaid
with silver and gold. An enormous gate, 40 cubits wide
and 50 high (gate Nicanor), connected the women's court
with the higher part of the platform, or court of the men
of Israel. The beautiful gate of Acts iii. 2 is variously
identified with the first or second of these eastern portals.
The walls of the platform were lined within with chambers,
in front of which ran a splendid colonnade ; and the gate-
ways were connected with the colonnade by small lofty
halls {ejcedrse), which from without had a tower-like aspect.
It is doubtful whether all the gates had exedrs ; but, on
the other hand, there was such a hall also at the west end
where no gate opened. In the court of the men — i.e., in
the upper and western part of the platform just described —
stood the fane or temple proper raised twelve steps aUbve
the court. For the ground plan of the Holy Place and
the Holy of Holies the ancient dimensions of Solomon's
temple w-ere preserved, and the external size demanded by
the scale of the surroundings was gained by increasing
their height, placing a lofty second story above them,
making their walls and those of the surrounding chambers
(corresponding to the chambers in the first temple) enor-
mously thick, and placing at the front or east end a porch
1 00 cubits wide and 1 00 cubits high. The open doorway
of this porch was overlaid with gold, as was sdso the door
of the fane and the wall round it. To the ornament of
the entrance belonged also a golden vine with clusters of
grapes as big as a man. In front of the fane beneath the
steps was the great altar of stone, 50 (or, according to
the Middoth, 32) cubits square and 15 high; it was as-
cended by a flight of steps from the south. The part of
the court round the fane and the altar was fenced off for
the use of the priests, and other Israelites were admitted
only when the sacrificial ritual required the presence of
the sacrificer.
Besides the descriptions in Josephus, we have for Herod's temple
a mass of details and measurements in the Slishnic treatise Middoth.
Josephus was himself a priest, while the Mishnah was not written
till a century after the destruction of the temple, though it uses
traditions that go back to Levites who had served in the temple.
The two sources differ in many measurements, and the Middoth
appears to be possessed of detailed traditions only for the inner
temple. The state of the evidence is not such as to allow a plan
of the temple to be formed with architectural precision. The abov,»
account rests almost entirely on Josephus, who, apart from certai;i
exaggerations in detail, gives a satisfactory general account, such as
could be written from memory without notes and drawings.
Herod's gigantic and costly structures were still m
building, forty-six years after their commencement, when
our Lord began His ministry (John ii. 20), and the works
were not completed tiU the procuratorship of Albinus (62-
64 A.D.). In 66 the great revolt against Rome broke
out, and in August 70 Jerusalem was taken bj Titus and
the temple perished in a great conflagration.^
' On 10 Ab ; b;;t Jewish triditioD ceiebraUs 9 Ab as the day
destruction of the temple.
TEMPLE
169
Topo- 4, Topo^raytAy. «li is not disputed that the site of the
^"f''^ temple lay within tSe great Hatam platform (see Jeku-
gALEM), now a Moslem Aoly place, and it is generally agreed
also that the south-west corner of that platform is the
south-west corner of Heiod s outer plateau, parts of the
south'- rn and western rttainmg walls being confidently
ascribed by experts to his age. But if Herodte temple
(eicluding the Antonia) was only 600 feet square it can
have occupied but a small part of the Haram area, which
measures about 1500 feet from north to south and 922
feet along the south wall. Moreover, the highest part of
the hill, where the Dome of tiie Rock now sfends, must have
been oatsido and north of tha temple enclosure. But this
affords no good reason to doubt the accuracy of Josephus's
measurements in a matter in which his memory could
hardly fail him, and where his tendency would be rather
to exsiggerate than to dimini;h. There is no evidence
that the eastern wall of the ^tfaram is as old as Herod,
much less as old as Solomon , for the supposed Phcenician
letters found on stones belonging to it are not letters at
all, and may be of any date. ' M oreover, there are various
evidences of later building about the east wall of the
Haram ; the so-called Golden Gale is certainly a later con-
struction, and Justinian's church rested on new substruc-
tures to the south and east (Procopjus, De ^d., v. 6), which
implies an extension eastward of the old platform. And
this is confirmed by the fact that ia the neighbourhood of
the south-east angle the platform does not rest on solid
aubstmctures such as Josephus speiks of, but on the vaults
known as Solomon's stables. Again, though the tempi© of
Solomon lay above the town, there is no evidence that it
was on the verytop of the hill ;. on the contrary, buildings
of the dimensions given in 1 Kings might have been placed
on the hill-top without the need for such great substructures
as are spoken of in 1 Kings vii. 10 ; and we have seen in
speaking of the courts of the first temple that the ground
appears to have risen to the north, the upper court being
on that side.*
If we accept the measurements of Josephias we have to break with
medisevaJ tradition, both Moslem and Christian, wLich associates
tte Saklira or rock under t"he dome on the top of the hill with t^e
sacred site of the Jews. So much weight has been laid on this,
circamstance by writers of eminence that it is necessary here to go
into some particulars and show that earlier tradition goes quite the
other way. It is a Talmndic legend that in the Holy of Holies
the place of the lost ark was taken by a stone called the " founda-
tion stone." Further this stone was identified with Jacob's stone at
Bethel (comp. Rashi on Gen. xxviii. and Breithaupfs notes). Both
Mohammedans and Christians transferred these legends to the
Sakhra, which the former accordingly venerated as "a gate of
heaven" (Ibn 'Abd Rabbih, 'Ikd, iii 369). Mohammedan sources
<nable ns to trace back t'nis identification to the Moslem Jew Wahb
ibn Monabbih, who enriched Islam with so many Jewish fables and
died a century after Jerusalem was taken by the Arabs (Tabari, i.
571 sg. ; Ibn al-Fakih, p. 97 sq.). Eutychius, on the other hand,
who is the first Christian writer to apply the Jewish legend to the
Moslem Sakhra, avers that the tradition was communicated to 'Omar
by the Christian patriarch Sophronius on the taking of Jerusalem,
And guided the caliph m the choice of a site for his mosque.
Eutychius wrote nearly three hundred years after this event ; and,
though it is known from earlier authorities ( Arculphus, Theophanes)
that the first Moslem mosque was built on what was pointed out as
the site of the temple, it is equally certain, and was known to
Eutychius himself, that that raosqce lay to the south of the Sakhra
(Eutychius, ii. 289), which was not embraced in the precincts of the
Moslem sanctuary til! the reign of 'Abd al-Malik, who built the dome,
as an inscription with the date 691 stiU testifies {Ihid., p. 365).
This is confirmed by the excellent Arabian historian Ibn Wadib{iL
311). 'Abd al- Malik's motive was political, as both historians
-attest ; Mecca being in the hands of a rival, he resolved to set up
^ They are represented ia the Recovery of Jerusalem (p. 143) and
in the Atlas of plates of Jerusalem published by the Palestine Explora-
tion Fund.
' That the temple was bnilt on the threshing-floor of Oman is
natoiaUy assumed by the Chronicler, who likes to minimize the number
-of old Hebrew sanctuaries ; but the old history knows nothing of a con-
secration of tiie site before the ark was placed there.
another place of pilgrimage to supplant the Kaab3,and recommended
it to the faithful as the point Irom which the Prophet made his
miraculous ascent from Jerusalem to heaven (Ibn Wadih. ^u supra).
There is nothing of the Jewish legend here ; that, as we have seen,
was supplied by Wahb in the next generation, and on his founda-
tion there grew up a mass of other fables for which it is enough to
refer to Ibn al-Fakih, p. 93 sq. From all this it may be taken as
certain that at the time of 'Omar it was towards the south-west
angle of the Haram, on the site of the origmal mosque, that tradi-
tion supposed the temple to have stood , indeed Eutychius is guilty
of self-contradiction when he first says that Sophronius indicated
the Sakhra to Omar as the site on which to build his mosque, and
then adds that it was not part of the Moslem sanctuary till a
generation later. Finally, the extension of the Haram to the north
so as to bring the Dome of the Rock into the centre of the sacred
area was the work of 'Abd al-Malik's son Walid (Eutychius, ii. 373).
Thus fa? w,e have met with nothing but confirmation
of Josephus's measurements and the site they imply; Hut
there are other topographical indications which supply
confirmation mpre decisive. And first let us compare
what is related of the outer gates of Herod's temple with
existing remains. On the north was the gate Tadi of the
Mishnah, which Josephtts mentions only incidentally. This,
like the gate Shushan on the east, which he does not
mention at all, must have been of minor importance , the
chief accesses were necessarily from the lower city to the
south and the upper city to the west beyond the Tyropoeon
valley. The south wall, says Josephus, had gates m the
middle (Ani., xv. 11, 5). The Mishnah names them the
two gates of Huldah, which may mean " tunnel (weasel-
hole) gates." There is a double gate in the substructure
of the south wall, 350 feet from the south-west angle, and
from it a double tunnel leads up to the platform. This
double gate exactly fits Josephus's description. There is
also a triple gate, 600 feet from the south-west angle,
which those who suppose the wall to have been more than
600 feet long regard as the second Huldah gate. But
this view does not give ns two gates in the middle of the
wall, especially as the old wall cannot have enclosed
Solomon's stables. In the west side the Mishnah places
one gate (KiponuS), while Josephus recognizes four. But
these accounts are at once reconciled -if we accept Josephus's
measurements. For of his foar'ga«,-s the most southerly
is necessarily the one'-which opened, on a flight of steps
descending and then reascending across the Tyropoeon to
the upper city opposite. Now at the south-west oornet
ol the plaflorm there are still remains of a great arch
(Robinson's arch), which must have belonged to a bridge
connecting the upper city with the south portico of the
temple. Thus one of the four gates is fixed. - The swond
gate led to Herod's palace (at the extreme north of th'e
upper city) by means of an embankment crossing the
Tyropceon (Ant., xv. 11, § 5). Comparmg S. J., iL 16, §3,
vi. 6, § 2, and v 4, § 2, we see that the -embankment ^o
carried the city wall (the so-called first wall). Of this
a"pproach there are remains at Wilson's arch, 600 feet
north of Robinson's arcb^, thus, if Josephus's 'meastire-
ments are correct, the two western "accesses were at tho
extreme ends of the western portico. Josephus's other
two gates led to the suburbs outside the first wall, and
therefore lay north of Wilson's arch, and were not gates
of the temple enclosure proper but of the Antonia, which
Josephus- habitually reckons as part of the outer temple.*
Of them the Mishnah would naturally take no accotmt,
and as naturally it would neglect the gate that led to the
palace as being not a public entrance. But further.
' The adjoining remains of ancient buildings unquestionably mark
the site of the council hall where the SanhedriiftTnet, and which was
close to the first wall and the temple but outside the latter (3. J.,
V- 4, § 2 ; VI. 6, S 3).
* One of the suburban gates may be Warren's gat^, in the sub-
structures of the Antonia wall, about 170 feet north of Wilson's arch.
The other is sometimes identified with Barclay's gate between Wilson's
arch and Robinson's arch. But this would not lead into the subixrb^
xxm. — 2=
170
TEMPLE
according to Joseph uss account of the whole circumference
of the temple with Antonia, the latter extended a stadium
north of the north-west angle of the temple portico, i.e.,
600 feet north of Wilson's arch ; and, if we measure off
this distance on plan of the rock contours and then draw
a line at righv angles to represent the north face of the
Antouia, we rird that this line runs across the narrowest
part of the saddle from which the temple hill is assailable.
The breadth of the Antonia from east to west cannot have
been more than about 300 feet if, as is to be presumed,
the gate Tadi was opposite the twin gates of Huldah ; but
with this breadth it would entirely cover the dangerous
saddle.
Every attempt to reconstruct the area and situation of
the temple as it was before Herod must be more or less
conjectural, and an analysis of the possibilities would take
np so much space that it seems better simply to offer a
plan which appears to satisfy the main conditions of the
problem.
A. Temple. B, B, B. Inner court C, C, C. Great court. D, E. Porches
of the king's house. F. Palace of Solomon. G. Great tower of prison
court. H. House of the forest of Lebanon. J. Water gate. K.
North court. L, L, L. New space taken in by Herod. MNPQ.
Herod's enclosure. NP. Solomon's portico. PQ. Stoa Basilica or
royal portico. P. Triple gate. Q. Robinson's arch. R. Double
gate (Huldah gates). M. Wilson's arch.
According to this plan the area of the temple enclosure
was doubled by Herod, his additions being in the parts
where the work of levelling up was heaviest, and where
neither the convenience of worshippers nor reasons of
defence called on earlier builders to extend the plateau.
It is certain that the substructures of the south-west angle,
, raised to a dizzy height above the Tyropoeon, are Herod's
' (A nt., XV. 1 1 , § 5), and Josephus also .speaks of an extension
to the north (B.J., v. 5, § 1). But, on the other hand, the
Baris already adjoined the temple, a condition which is
satisfied by giving the older north court K (correspond-
ing to the new court of Chronicles, and perhaps also to the
upper court of the first temple) a length from east to west
of 300 feet and a breadth from north to south of 1 50.
The old east face of the plateau is, as Josephus says, 600
feet long, but this length was gained after the time of
Nehemiah by taking in the site of the armoury or house
of the forest' of Lebanon (H) and the street in front of the
water gate (J). For the proof that the water pate stood
at a re-entrant angle between the retaining walls of the
armoury and the palace and faced east as shown in the
plan reference must be made to an article in the Journal
of Philology (vol. xvi.). The rocky boss between these
two T.'alls" was in Nehemiah 's time surrounded by an out-
work, which to the north joined the wall of Ophel, — that
is, of the swelling mass of hill which lies out to the north-
east of the palace. From the lower city (south of the
Haram area) a stair near the vcall led up to the plateau H
(Neh. iii. 19; xii. 37). The armoury was 150 feet long
and 75 broad ; the plan allows the same dimensions for
the open space within the water gate. The great court
C, C, C is arranged in accordance with 1 Kings vii. 12, in
such a way that it is at once the court of the palace and
that of the temple, enclosing the inner court B. The
dimensions of the inner court are not given in 1 Kings, but
as the temple was twice the size of the tabernacle the court
was probably also double the court of the tabernacle. This
gives a length of 300 feet and a breadth of 150, as in the
plan. The part of the court in front of the temple is 150
feet square, which agrees with the dimensions given in
Ezek. xl. 23, 27. The great court is a square of 300 feet.
This gives room en the east face for two porches D and K
leading to the palace and each 75 feet long. Both porches
are described in 1 Kings vii. 6, 8, and the dimensions of
one are given. It is also expressly stated that the porch
was before {i.e., on the east side of) the pillars that deco-
rated its front, and that it led into the inner court of the
palace, so that the arrangement in the plan is fully justified.
In the time of Jeremiah (xxxviii. 14) there were three
entries from the palace to the temple ; the third was pro'o-
ably into the north court, the palace having been extended
northwards. It is evident that before the time of Herod
the palace had disappeared. It was on a lower level than
the temple, and when it was cleared away the great sub-
structures on the line PE stood out as the boundary of
Solomon's building. North of E the substructures were
less considerable, the rock at the north end of this porch
being but 20 feet under the present level of the plateau.
In Herod's time, as can be seen at Robinson's arch, the
level of the plateau was the .^ame as at present (2420 feet),
but in older times there was a fall between the upper and
lower court, and K was probably 10 feet above C, C, C.
In that case D was on the natural level of the ground,
while (unless the great court was on two levels) E stood
on a retaining wall 10 feet high at the north end of the
porch and nearly twice as lofty at the south end. The
plan shows the temple thrown out on very lofty substruc-
tures, so as to be practically inaccessible on all sides and
overhang the Tyropoeon in the most striking way.' The
whole group of buildings formed a complete defence to the
city of David on its noi-thern or vulnerable side. It will
be observed that in Herod's temple the Huldah gates at
R led directly to the altar, the position of which seems
never to have been changed, and also that the plan explains
the statement of Hecataeus that the temple was 150 feet
broad. His length of 500 feet from east to west is 50 feet
too much unless he includes some remains of the old palace.
The Baris is shown as standing on the south-west corner
of the existing platform of the Dome of the Rock.
A word may be said in conclusion on the ancient line of
wall to the west of the temple, which, as has been shown
from Neh. iii. in the article Jekcs.ilem ran along the
eastern side of the Tyropoeon. A bridge connected the
temple with the upper city in the time of the later Has-
moneans, and, as the palace (on the site of Herod's palace)
* It ought, however, to be observed that the contour lines in anil
near B, B, B are almost purely conjectural.
TEMPLE
171
and (he Bans vurt the poinu which it w.is most iiii|iortant
:o cpiincct. it no doiiLpt currespomlcd to tlie iioithci ii liridj;u
ilrcady spoken of, at Wilson's arch M. Cut at llial date
It must h;»vf led, not directly ty the temple, but to a lower
point 111 I he slope south of the Baiis. In Nchcuiinh'-s tune
there w~»s no bridge, but the g^t\3 of Epliraini probably
r^orresiiondcd to the cast end of the bridge nrar the south-
«esl angle of the liiris. in that case the wall, as is natural,
ran, close under the western substructures of the temple
and probably served as a buttress to them in the part of
its coui'se south of the gate of Ephraim, which in Neh.
xii. 3S is called "the broad wall." The throne of the
Persian governor, beside the gate of Ephraim (see Jerusa-
lem,'vol. xiii. p. 640), stood so close to the Baris that we
may conclude' that there was already a castle on its site,
held, for the great king. The position assigned to the
gate of Ephraim, which, according to 2 Kings xiv. 13, was
600 feet from the corner gate, where the north wall of the
city joined the west wall, suits the fact that a line drawn
east and west 600 feet north of Wilson's arch coincides
'with the line of scarped rock marked on the plan. Here,
therefore, the old north wall ran, with the great fosse
filled up by Pompey. This wall figures also in Herod's
siege, but seems to have been destroyed by him.
LiUtature. — The literature of the subject is immense. There-
suits of moiiern surveys and diggings are given in tlie Palestine
Evplomuou Fund volume on Jerusalem (London, 1884) and in the
accompanying yillns. .Of other books it may suffice to name De
Vogue. Lt Temple de Jerusalem (fol, Paris, 1864); Fergusson,
Topography of Jertis^lem {8vo, London, 1847) ; Id , TJu Temples
of thf Jews (4to. London, 1878) ; Thnrpp, Antient Jerusalem {^vo,
C'^'^bojlgc, 1855), Lewin, Tlu Siege of JcrwsaUm by Titus {^vo,
Lonnon, IS63) ; and Perrot and Ciiipiez, I/istoire dc I'Arl. (Paris,
1S87) (W. R. S.) .(
TEMPLE.' Sir William (1628-1699), English states-'
man, diplomatist, and author, was born in London in
16"28. He came" of an old Englissh family,' but of the-
youDger branch of it, which had for some time been settled
in Ireland. -.He was the eldest son of Sir John Temple,
master of the rolls in that country. ■ His mother was Mary
HammoncL sister of a well-known Tory divine. Temple
feceived a liberal education, calculated to produce that
moderation of judgment for which he was afterwards re-
markable. ,' He w'as first a pupil of his uncle Dr Hammond,
after which he went to the grammar-school at Bishop Stort-
ford. and then to the Puritan college of Emmanuel at
Cambridge, wherp he came under the influence of Cud-
worth. At the commencement of the civil troubles his
father embraced the popular cause' and was deprived of
his office. Coming to England, he sat in the Long Parlia-
ment as member for Chichester, and was one of the recal-
citrant members turned out by Colonel Pride. Before
th-a event happened his son had left Cambridge, without
taking a degree, and in 1647 started to travel abroad. .' In
tje Isle of Wight, while on his way to France, he fell in
i*ith Dorothy Osborne, and won her affections. Her
^father. Sir Peter Osborne, was governor of Guernsey and
a Royalist. Her family were naturally opposed to the
rnatth, and threw difficulties in the way, which hindered
Its consummation for seven years. , During this period
Temple travelled in France, Spain, Holland, and other
countries, gaining knowledge of the world and keeping
up a constant correspondence with his betrothed. At
length, apparently in 1654, the difficulties were surmounted
Und the raarii.^ge took place. In 16.t5 Temple and hi.s
wife went to Ireland. 'The next five years were spent in
.the hou'.e of Sir John Temple, who had made his peace
(with Cromwell, .-ind had resumed his official position.' His
'son took no part iir politics, but lived the life of a student
'and a country gentleman.
The accession of Charles II. rescued Temple, like many
t>iber=!, from obscurity In 1660 he sat in the convention
parliament at Dublin as member for Carlow, and he rofire-
sented the same county along with his father in the
ivgiilar parliameut that followed. After a short visit to
England in 16G I, as commissioner from the Irish parlia
mciit, he finally removed thither in 1GG3. There he
attached himself to Arlington, secretary of state, and two
years later received his first enl[^loynlent abroad. It was
in March 166o that the disastrous w'ar with the United
Netherlands began. Charles II. was anxious to obtain
allies, especially a.=i Louis XIV. was taking up a hostile
attitude. At this juncture the bishop of Munster sent
an envoy to England, offering to attack the Dutch if the
English Government would supply the means. Temple
was sent over to negotiate a treaty, and in this business
gave evidence not only of the diplomatic skill :butf of the
peculiar candour and frankness for which he was after-
wards so distinguished. He was successful in making the
treaty, but it was rendered ineffectual by tae declaration
of war by France, the threats of Louis, and the double-
dealing of the prelate, who, after receiving a great part of
the subsidy, made a separate peace with the Netherlands.
As a reward for his services Temple was created a baronet,
and in October 1665 became the English representative
at the viceregal court at Brussels. While the war con-
tinued. Temple's duties' consisted -chiefly in cultivating
good relations witTi Spain, which was a neutral in the
quarrel between England and the Dutch, but was threat-
ened by the claims- of Louis XIV. on the Spanish Nether-
lands. Louis's designs became apparent in the spring ol
1667, when be marched an army into Flanders. This
event was'otie of those which led to the peace of Breda,
and to the subsequent negotiations, which are Temple's
chief title to fame. ^,The French conquests were made at
the expense of Spain, but were almost equally dangerous to
the United Netherlands, whose independence would'have
been forfeited had Louis succeeded in annexing Flanders.
While the French were taking town after town, Temple
made a journey into Holland and visited De Witt. The
friendship established and the community of views dis-
covered during this interview facilitated the subsequent
negotiations. Temjile had for some time pressed on his
Government the necessity of stopping the French advance,
and had pointed out the way to do so, but it was not till
December 1667 th^t he received instructions to act ?-«
he had suggested. He at once set out for The Hague,
and in January, 1 668 a treaty w.as made between England
and the United Netherlands, which, being joined shortly
afterwards by Sweden, became known as the Triple Alli-
ance. It was a defensive treaty, made against the en-
croachments of France. Whether we regard the skill and
celerity with which the negotiations were conducted or
the results of the treaty, the transaction reflects great
credit on Temple. ■: The French king was checked in mid-
career, and, without a blow being struck, was obliged to
surrender almost all his conquests.^ Pcpys records public
.opinion on the treaty by saying that it was "the only
good public thing that hath been_done_since_the king
came into England."
Unfortunately the policy thus indicatcd'was but short-
lived. In taking up a hostile attitude towards France
Charles's object had apparently been only to raise his price.
Louis took the hint, increased his offers, and two years
later the secret treaty of Dover reversed the policy of the
Triple Alliance. Meanwhile Temple had developed the
good unders'aniling with the Dutch^by contracting a com-
mercial treaty with them (February IGG.-':), and had acted
as English plenipotentiary'at Alx la-Chap'-lle, where peaca
between France and Spain was made in May 1668. Shortly
afterwards he was appointed ambassador at The Hague
Here he lived for two years on good terms both with D«.
172
T E N — T' E N
Witt and with the young prince of Orange, afterwards
William. III. The treaty of Dover led to Temple's recall ;
but the plot was not yet ripe, and Temple nommally held
his post for another year. He perceived, however, that
his day was over and retired to his house a* Sheen. In
June 167 1 he received his formal dismissal. The war with
the Netherlands broke out next year, and was almost as
discreditable to England as that of 1665. Want of success
and the growing strength of the opposition in parliament
forced Charles to make peace, and Temple was brought
out of his retirement to carry through the change of front.
After a negotiation of three days, carried on through the
medium of the Spanish ambassador, the treaty of West-
minster was made (February 1674). As a recognition of
his services Temple was now offered the embassy to Spam.
This he declined, as well as the offer of a far more import-
ant post, that of secretary of state, but accepted instead
a renewal of his embassy to The Hague, whither he went
in July 1674. In the March following he was nominated
ambassador to the congress at Nimeguen ; but, owmg to
the tortuousness of Charles's dealings, it was not till July
1676 that he entered that town. The negotiations dragged
on for two years longer, for Charles was still receivmg
money from France, and English mediation was no more
than a ruse. In the summer of 1677 Temple was sum-
moned to England and received a second offer of the
secretaryship of state, which he again declined. In the
autumn of the same year he had the satisfaction of re-
moving the last difficulties which hindered the marriage
of William and Mary, an event which seemed to complete
the work of 1668 and 1674. Louis still remaining obsti-
nate in his demands. Temple was commissioned in July
1678 to make an alliance with the states, with the object
of compelling France to come to terms. This treaty was
instrumental in bringing about the general pacification
which was concluded in January 1679.
This was Temples last appearance in the field of
diplomacy ; but his public life w.-'.s not yet over. A third
offer of the secretaryship was made to him , but, unwilling
as ever to mix himself up with faction and intrigue, he
again declined. He did not, however, withdraw from
politics ; on the contrary, he was for a short time more
prominent than ever. The state was passing through a
grave crisis. Political passion was embittered by religious
fanaticism. Parliament was agitated by the popish plot,
and was pressing on the Exclusion Bill. The root of all
the mischief lay in the irresponsibi.'-ty of the cabinet to
parliament and its complete subservience to the crown.
To remedy this. Temple brought forward his plan for a
reform of the privy council. This body was to consist of
thirty members, half of whom were to be the chief officers
of the crown, the other half being persons of importance,
lords and commoners, chosen without reference to party.
Special care was taken to select men of wealth, which
Temple considered as the chief source of political influence.
By the advice of this council the king promised to act.
The parliament, it was supposed, would trust such a body,
and would cease to dictate to the crown. The scheme was
accepted by the king, but was a failure fr«m the outset
Intended to combine the advantages of a parliament and
a council, it created a board which was neither the one
nor the other. The conduct of affairs fell at once into
the hands of a junta of four,, of whom Temple was at first
one, and the king violated his promise by dissolving parlia-
ment without asking the advice of the council. Temple
retired in disgust to his villa at Sheen, and appeared only
.occasionally at the council, where he soon ceased to exer-
cise any influence. In 1680 he was nominated ambassador
'to Spain, but stayed in England in order to take his seat
in parliament as member for the university of Cambridge.
He took no part in the debates on the gren.t question of
the day, and acting on the king's advice declined to sit in
the parliament of 1681. Early in that year his name was
struck off the list of the council, and henceforward he dis-
appeared from public life. He continued to live at Sheen
till 1 686,when he handed over his estate there to his son, the
only survivor of seven children, and retired to Moor Park |
in Surrey. When William III. came to the throne Temple ;
was pressed to take office, but refused. His son became ■
secretary at war, but committed suicide immediately after-
wards. Sir Wilbam, though occasionally consulted by the
king, took no further part in public affairs, but occupied
hini.self in literature, gardening, and other pursuits. It
should not be omitted that Switt lived with him as secre-
tary during the last ten years (with one short interval) of
his life. Temple died at Moor Park on 27th January 1699.
Temple's literary works are mostly political, and are of consider-
able importance. Among tbem may 'bo mentioned An Essay on
the Present iiUite and Selllemmt of Ireland (1668); Tht Empire,
Sweden, &c., a survey of the different Governments of Europe and
their relations to England (1671), Observations upon the Umted
Provinces (1672! ; Essay upon Iht Original and Nature of flovern-
menl (1672). Essay upon the Advancement of Trade m Ireland
(1673). Some of tlie.se were published in the first part of his Miscel-
lanea (1679). In the same year apparently his PoemsveTe privately
printed. In 1683 ho began to write his Memoiis The hrst part,
extending from 1665 to 1671, he destroyed unpublished, the
second, from 1672 to 1679. was published without his authority in
1691 , the third, from 1679 to 1681, was published by Swift in
1709. In 1692 he published the second part cf his iliscellaiica,
containing among other subjects the essay Upon the Ancient and
Modem Learning, which is remarkable only as having given rise to
the famous controversy on the " Letters ol Phalans." His Intro-
duction to the History of England, a short sketch of English history
to 1087, was published in 1695. Several collections ol his letters
were published by Swift and others after his death
His fame rests, however, far more on his diplomatic triumphs
than on his literary work. His connexion wiih domestic atfaira
was slight and unsuccessful. He was .lebaired both by his virtues
and his defects, — bv his impartiality, his honesty, and .us want ol
ambition,— from taking an active part in the disgracelul po.itics of
his time. But in the foreign relations of his countiy he was
intimately concerned for a period of ,ourteen years, and in all that
IS praiseworthy in them he had a pnncipal hand. He cannot
be called great, hut he will be remembered as one of the ablest
ne>rotiators that England has produced, and as a pub he servant
wh^o, m an unprincipled age ani in circumsunces peculiarly opeu
to corruption, preserved a blameless record.
See J.i/e -"rf Ifor^ t/'S"' "■•"i"™ '"""?''• 2 vol.-;. fol, 1720 : 2d eJ_, "ith Life
bv I^Jy GilfarU, 1731 . a more complete editmn. includinB the Lalers, was
pabh?he,i ... 4 VOLS. 8vo, 1S14 . Burnet, History o/ h.. o«™ T.m , Courtenay,
Kliirri/(".i..;?. i-c, ;/Sir WMiam TtmpU, 2 vols., 1836; Maeaalay, to,
on. Sir WMia-m. TcmpU- '"■ '
TENANT. See Landlord and Tenant.
TENASSERIM, a division of the province of British
Burmah, lying between 9° 30' and 19° 30' N. lat. and
95° 50' and 99° 30' E. long. It has an area of 46,730
square miles and comprises the seven districts of Moulmein
town, Amherst, Tavoy, Mergui, Shwagyin, Toungoo, and
Salwin, which formed the tract south of Pegu conquered
from Burmah in 1826, and were for many years generally
known as the Tenassenm provinces. The southern ex-
tremity of the division approaches the insular region of
Malaysia, and it is fringed along its entire western coast
by a number of islands, forming in the north the Moscos
and in the south the Mergui Archipelago. The eastern
frontier is formed by a mountain range 5000 feet high,
which acts as a water-parting between the Tenassenm and
the Siamese river systems.
The population of the division in 1881 was 825,741 (437,900
males and 387,841 females). By religion Hindus numbered 23,145,
Mohammedans 24,786, Christians 28,315, Buddhists 698,304. and
Nat worshippers 51,160. The cultived area in 1836-86 »a3 relurnea
at 729,251 acres. The gross revenue in the same year was £184,162,
of which the land-tax yielded £107,631. -u a
TENBY a municipal and parliamentary borough ana
watering-piace of Pembrokeshire, South Wales, is finely
situated on a long and narrow promontory of limestone
rock, washed on three sides by the sea, on the west side ot
T E N — T E N
173
Carmarthen Bay, and on a branch of the South Wales
Railway, 10 miles east of Pembroke and 274 west of
London (by rail). Its chief attractions as a watering-place
ire Its picturesque appearance, its antiquarian remains, its
equable and salubrious climate, and its wide stretch of firm
Ban'is. There are considerable remains of the old fortificar
tions of the town, dating originally from the Norman Con-
quest, and repaired by Elizabeth, whose initials with the
date 15S8 are inscribed on a stone near the fine south-west
gate, which with the south-west and north-west walls is in
very good preservation. The remains of the castle on a
lofty rock at the extremity of the promontory include the
Seep, a circular bastion overhanging the cliffs, and portions
of the outer wall. Within the ounds, which are laid out
m Walks, there is a local musaim ; and on thesumnait of
the hili ia the Welsh memorial to the Prince Consort, a
statue or t^icilian marJile (1SC5). Opposite the castle,
about 100 yards distant and accessible on foot at low
water, is St xT&therine's Island, on which is a strong fort
begun in 186S, forming one of the land defences of Pem-
broke d«ckyard. The parish church of St Mary is a large
and beautiful building, showing every ariety of style from
the Norman of the 12th to the Tudor of the late 16th
century ; it has a massive tower with a spire rising' to a
height of 152 feet. In the north aisle are some medisval
altar tombs and in the south aisle one of the early Tudor
period. The fisheries of Tenby, for which the place was
noted at a very early period, are still 6f importance. The
trade of the port is inconsiderable. Steamers, however,
ply to Bristol, Cardiff, Ilfracombe, and Weston-super-
Mare. In the neighbourhood there are extensive limestone
quarries. The population of the municipal and parlia-
mentary borough (area 640 acres) in 1871. was 3810, and
in 1881 it was 4750. In summer it is augmented, by
more than a half.
Tenby has the same derivation as Denbigh in North Wales.
Anciently it was called Dynbych-y-Pyscod, the "precipice of fishes."
The importance of the town dates from the settlement of the
Flemings in the reign of Henry I. In 1150 Cadell, eldest son of
Rhys ab Gryffith, was slain by the people of Tenby, in revenge for
which the castle was taken and the town devastated by his*two
brnthere Meredith and Rhys. Dunng the Wars of the Roses the
fortifications were restored and strengthened by Jaspar, earl of
Pembroke They were again greatly strengthened by Elizabeth in
apprehension of the landing of the Spaniards. At the beginning
of the Civil War the town and castle were garrisoned for the king,
bn-t in 1644 it surrendered to the Parliamentarians after a siege of
three days. Its privileges were extended by Humphrey, duke of
Gloucester, who made the mayor an independent justice, and by
Henry IV., Henry VI., Elizabeth, and Charles I. It is now
florerned by the Municipal Act, and the corporation are the sani-
tary authority. Since the 27th of Henry VIII. it has formed
part of the Pembroke district of boroughs for parliamentary repre-
sentation.,
TENCH, the Tinea titica of naturalists, is one of the
commonest and most widely spread freshwater fishes of
Europe. It is generally distributed in all suitable local-
ities throughout England, but is limited to a few lakes
and ponds in the south of Scotland and in Ireland. As the
tench is of comparatively uncommon occurrence in unen-
closed waters, its place among the indigenous fishes of
Great Britain has been denied, and it has been supposed
to have been introduced from the Continent. In central
Europe, however, where it is undoubtedly indigenous, it
thrives best in enclosed, preserved waters, with a clayey
or muddy bottom and with an abundant vegetation ; it
avoids clear waters with stony ground, and is altogether
absent from rapid streams. The tench belongs to the
family of carps (Cyprinidx), and is distinguished from the
other members of that family by its very small scales,
which are deeply embedded in a thick skin, whose surface
is as clippery as that of an eel. All the fins have a rounded
outline; the short dorsal fin is without a spine, but the
males possess a very thicic and flattened outer ray in the
ventral fins. The mouth is rather narrow and provided
at each corner with a very small barbel. Tench if kept
in suitable waters are extremely prolific, and as thej
grow within a few years to a weight of 3 or 4 &, and are
then fit for the table, they may be profitably introduced
Tench {Tinea ^iTica).
into ponds which are already stocked with other fishes,
such as carp and pike. They live on small animals or soft
vegetable substances, which they root up from the ground.
The albino variety especially, which is known as the "golden
tench," can be recommended for ornamental waters, as its
bright orange colours render it visible for some distance
helow the surface of the water. This variety, which seems
to have been originally bred in Silesia, is not less well-
flavoured than the normally coloured tench, "^nd grows to
the same size, viz., to 6 and even 8 ft).
TENDER. See Payment.
TENERIFFE. See Canary Islands, vol. iv. p. 798.
TENTERS, David (1610-1690), the younger, a Flemish
painter, almost ranking in celebrity with Rubens and
Van Dyck, was bojn in Antwerp on 15th December 1610.
His father, David Teniers the eld'-r (1582-1649), whose
style he followed with a vastly superior power of concep-
tion, had been a pupil of Elsheimer in Rome and of Rubens
in Antwerp. Besides these influences, we can also dis-
tinctly trace that of Adrian Brouwer at the outset of his
career. Although the young painter's general system pften
reminds us of Rubens, several of his works also betray a
vivid recollection of Brouwer in type as well as general
arrangement. There is no evidence, however, that either
Rubens or Brouwer interfered in any way with Teniers's
education, and Smith may be correct in supposing that
the admiration which Brouwer's pictures at one time ex-
cited alone tempted the younger artist to imitate them.
The only trace of personal relations having existed between
Teniers and Rubens is the fact that the ward of the latter,
Anne Breughel, the daughter of John (Velvet) Breughel,
married Teniers in 1637. Admitted as a " master " in the
guild of St Luke in 1632, Teniers had even before this
made the public acquainted with his works. The Berlin
museum possesses a group of ladies and gentlemen dated
1630. No special signature positively distinguishes these
first productions from those of his father, and we do not
think it correct to admit with some writers that he first
painted religious subjects. Dr Bode, in a most remarkable
study of Brouwer and his works, expresses the opinion that
Teniers's earliest pictures are those found under the signa-
ture "Tenier" (with the omission of the final «). Tenier
is in reality a Flemish version of a thoroughly Walloon
name, "Taisnier," which the painter's grandfather, a mercer,
brought with bim when he came from Ath in 1558, and
Bode's supposition is greatly strengthened by the circum-
stance that not only David the elder but his brother
Abraham and his four sons were all inscribed as " Tenier "
in the ledgers of the Antwerp guild of St Luke. Some
really first-rate works — the Prodigal Son and a group of
Topers in the Munich gallery, as well as a party of gentle-
men and ladies at dinner, termed the Five Senses, in tho
174
T E N I E R S
Brussels museum— with the above signature are remark-
able instances of the perfection attained by the artist when
he may be supposed to have been scarcely twenty Hia
touch is of the rarest delicacy, his colour at once gay and
harmonious. Both Waagen and Smith express the opinion
that the works painted from 1645 to 1650 speak most
highly of the master's abilities. We may venture to add
that a considerable number of earUer productions would
have been sufficient to immortalize his name He was
Uttle over thirty when the Antwerp guild of St George
enabled him to paint the marvellous p-cture which ulti
mately found its way to the Hermitage GaUery in St Peters-
burg —the JubUee Meeting of the Civic Guards, in honour
of their old commander, Godfrey Sneyders Correct to the
minutest detail, yet striking in effect, the scene, under the
rays of a glorious sunshine, displays an astonisbng amount
of acquired knowledge and natural good taste This paint-
ing one of forty among many of the master's ear ler and
later productions,' leads us to mention another work of the
same year (1643), now m the National Gallery, London
(No 952) an equally beautiful repetition of which, dated
1646 belongs to the duke of Bedford. A hundred and bfty
figures are resting after a pilgrimage to some holy shrine or
some miraculous well The hungry traveUers are waiting
for the meal which is being prepared for them in several
huge caldrons Truth in physiognomy, distribution of
groups, the beautiful effect of light and shade, command
our warmest admiration A work like this, says Waagen,
stamps its author as the greatest among painters of his
class That however, a subject of the kind should have
been accepted as a " feast " (see the National Gallery
Catalogue) may tend to prove how little, from the hrst,
Teniers thought of dramatizing. Frankness in expression
and freedom in attitude certainly guided his preference
in the choice of a model, and we may even suppose him to
have occasionally exaggerated both He seems anxious to
have it known' that, far from indulging in the coarse
amusements of the boors he is fond of painting, he himself
lives m good style, looks like a gentleman, and behaves as
such He never seems fred of showing the turrets of his
chateau of Perck, and m the midst ot rustic merrymakings
we often see his family and himself received cap in band by
the loyous peasants We may also observe that he has a
certain number of favourite models, the constant recur-
rence ol which IS a special feature of his works V\ e even
meet them in a series of life-size portrait like figures in the
Dona Pamphili Gallery in Rome,' as well as in a picture
belonging to Mr H R Hughes, and the man here repre-
sented as a fishmonger is unmistakably fee painters
brother, Abraham Teniers, judging from the portrait
Kdelinck has left us of this artist
Teniers was chosen bv the common council of Antwerp
to preside over the guild of pamters in 1644 The arch-
duke Leopold William, who had assumed the government
of the Spanish Netherlands, being a great lover of art
employed Teniers not only as a painter but as keep" of
the collection of pictures be wa-- then forming W ;th the
rank and title of " ayuda de camara," Teniers took up his
abode in Brussels shortly after 1647 Immense sums were
spent in the acquisition of paintings for the archduke A
number of valuable works of the Italian masters, now m
the Belvedere in Vienna, came from Leopold's gallery after
having belonged to.Charles L and the duke of Buckingham.
De Bie (1661 ) states that Teniers was some time in London,
collecting pictures for the duke of Fucnsaldana. then acting
as Leopold's lieutenant in the Netherlands Paintings in
' The Hermitage Catalogue ascribes to Abraham Teniers the portrait
of a bishop. This painting is, however, by David, and represents the
telebrated bishop of Ghent. Anthony Triist, with his brother Francis,
t Franciscan monk " Uader the name of Weeninx.
Madrid, Munich, Vienna, and Brussels have enabled art
critics to form an opinion of what the imperial re.s;den. e
was at the time of Leopold, who is represented as con
ducted by Teniers and admiring some recent acquisition
No picture in the gallery is omitted, every one being in
scribed with a number and the name of its author, so that
the eruembU of these paintings might serve as an illus-
trated inventory of the collection ' Sull more interesting
is a canvas, now io the Munich gallery, where we see
Teniers at work m a room of the palace, with ao old
peasant as a model and several gentlemen looking on.
When Leopold returned to Vienna, Teniers's Usk ceased ,
in fact the pictures also travelled to Austria, anc a Flemish
priest himself a first-rate flower painter, Von der Baren,
became keeper of the archducal gallery Teniers never-
thelcss remained io high favour with the new governor-
general Don Juan, a natural son of PhUip IV The prince
was his pupU, and De Bie teUs us he took the Ukeness of
the painter's son Honoured as one of the greatest painters
in Europe Teniers seems to have made bimseU extremely
miserable through his aristocratic leanings Shortly after
the death of his wife in |i^^'6 he married Isabella de Fren^
daughter of the secretary • f the council of Brabant, and
strove his utmost to prove hn right to armorial bearings.
In a petition to the king he reminded him that the honour
of knighthood had been bestowed upon Rubens and Van
Dyck The king at last declared his readiness to grant
the request, but on the express condition that Teniers
should give up selling his pictures. The condition was
not coTiplied with; but it may perhaps account for the
master's activity in favour of the foundation in Antwerp
of an academy of fine arts to which artists alone should
be admitted, whereas the venerable guild of St LuJse made
no difference between art and handicraft : carvers, gilders
bookbinders, stood on an even footing with painters and
sculptors, however great their talent." There were great
rejoicings in Antwerp when, on 26th January 1663, Teniers
came from Brussels with the royal charter of the acaoemy
the existence of which was due entirely to his personal
initiative . .. . .
Teniers died in Brussels on 25th Apnl 1690* A
pictioie in the Munich gallery (No. 906), dated 1680,
represents him as an alchemist, oppressed with a burden
of age beyond his years From this dat« we hear inore
of his doings as a picture-dealer than as a painter, wb-.cb
most probably gave birth to the legend of his having given
himself out as deceased in order to get higher prices for
his works David, his elde,-^t son. a painter of talent and
reputation, died in 1685 One ol this third Teniers a
pictures-St Dominic Kneeling before the Blessed \ irgin,
dated 1666— IS still to be found in the church at Perck.
A<. well a-, Ins lather, he contributed many patterns to tho
celebrated Brussels tapestry looms Cornelia, the painters
daughter, married John Erasmus Quellin, a «ell known
artist (1634-1715) , ,„„ „,
Smiths Catalogue Ra.smnt gives descnptions of over 700 Pamt
ings accepted as original productions of Tenicrs F^^/^f ',*"'
worked wuh greater ease, and some of l.is s-naller P» «."'"- ''"^
scapes with figures-have been termed •■aflernoons rot from
their subjects. \.ut from the time spent in r«"^ "5'"? ''"■"' ''!°
museums in Madrid. St Petersburg, Vienna M"""^t>. Rl^^'^;"'
Pans. London, and Brussels have more than 200 pictures by Teniers
In the United Kingdom 150 may be found in private >'^"d'. ".d
manv other e.anipres are to be met with .n P"" « .^"''"''"r'
thro'ughoiit Europe. Although Ih. spirit of many of these v.o.ks
' It <vas not until recently that the MS. inventory of this "llection
^as discovered among the papers of the prince ot S^J""'^K'.ber8 ,n
Vienna. It was published in 1883 by Adolf Berger. In 1«\8.T"'!"
published 243 etchings after the best lulian works of LeoP^.'^J^^''^™ '
Collection, which, with the portraits of the ajchduke a«d I, "^^ "^
brought together a, a vol-ime m 1C60, under the^tJe £ r««r<. at
rirturat. ' Tbe separation was only "^^"i^ « "'*•
i > The daU is often wrongly given as 1694 or 1696.
TEN-
is as a whole marvellotu, their coDScientiousness must be le^rded
as qneetioiiabie. Especially in the later productioE3 we often
detect a lack of eameitness and of the calm and concentrated study
of nature which alone prevent expression from degenerating into
grimace in situations like those generally depicted by Teniers, His
education, and still more his real and assumed position in society,
to a ereat degree account for this. Brouwer knew more of taverns ;
Ostsae was more thoroughly at home in cottages and humble dwell-
ings ; Teniers throughout triumphs in broad daylight, and, though
many of his interiors may be justly termed masterpieces, they seldom
Snai his open-air scenes, where he has, without constraint, given
U play to the bright resources of his luminous palette. In this
respect, as in many others, he almost invariably suggests compari-
sons with Watteau. Equally sparkling and equally joyous, both
seem to live in an almost ideal world, where toil, disease, and
poverty may exist, but to be ^oon forgotten, and where sunshine
seems everlasting. But his subjects taken from the Gospels or
sacred legend are absurd. An admirable picture in the Louvre
shows Peter Denying his Master, next to a table where soldiers
are smoking and having a game at cards. He likes going back to
subjects illustrated two centuries before by Jerome Bosch — the
Temptation of St Anthony, the Rich Man in Hell, incantations,
and witches — for the simple purpose of assembling the most comic
apparitions. His viUa^ra uriuK, play bowls, dance, and sing ;
they seldom quarrel or hght, and, if they do, s.-em to be shamming.
His powers certainly declined with advancing age ; the works of
1654 Degin to look hasty. But this much may be said of Teniers,
that no other painter shows a more enviable ability to render a
conception to his own and other people's satisfaction. His works
have a technical- freshness, a strai'htforwardness in means and
intent, which make the study of them most delightful ; as Sir
Joshua Reynolds says, they are worthv of the closest attention of
any painter who desires to excel in tlie mechanical knowledge of
his art.
As an etcher Teniers compires very unfavourably with Ostade,
Cornells, Bega, and Dusart More than 500 plates were made from
his pictures; and, if it be true that Louis XIV. judged his "baboons"
(iTiagots) unworthy of a place in the royal collections, they found
admirable engravers in France — Le Has and his scholars — and
passionate admirers. The duke of Bedford's admirable specimen
was sold for 18,030 livres (£1360) in 1763. The Prodigal Son, now
in the Louvre, fetched 30,000 livres (£3095) in 1776. Smith's
highest estimates have long since been greatly exceeded. The
Archers in St Petersburg he gives as worth <£2000. The Belgian
Government gave £5000 in 1867 for the Tillage Pastoral of 1652,
which is now in the Brussels museum ; and a picture of the Prodigal
Son, scarcely 16 by 28 inches, fetched £5280 in 1876.
Although Van Tilborgh, who was a scholar of Teniers in Brussels,
followed his style with some success, and later painters often excelled
in figure-painting on a small scale, Teniers cannot be said to have
formed a school Properly speaking, he is the last representative
of the great Flemish traditions of the 17th century.
See T. Smith, A Caialogue RaisoniU 0/ the Works of tht most E-ninrnt Dutch,
Fleaiuhy and FrmA Painters; John Vermoeleo, Notice historvjue sur David
Teniers et sa fa-niUe ; L. Galesloot, Qjuljuxs rensei^iiements sur la famiUc de
P. P. Rubeiu et le deds de David Teniers and Un 'proces de David Teniers ei
la oOTjnraiion des peintres d Br^LBelles : Alph. Waotera. Bistoire des environs
di BnadUs and Les tapisseries bntxeiloises ; P. T. Van der BraDdeni, Ge-
tckiedenis der Antwerpsche SchUderxhool ; Max Boos«3, Geschidite der Maler-
aAute Antie^rpens ; W. Bode, Adriaen 3rcmuwr, etn Biid seir^ Lebens und seines
Sdlaffens. (H. H )
TENIMBER. See Timor Lattt.
TEXISON, THOMiS (1636-1715), archbishop of Canter-
bury, was the son of Rev. John Tenison, rector of
Mtmdsley, Norfolk, by Mary, daughter of Thomas Dowson
of Cottenham, Cambridgeshire, where he was bom on 29th
September 1636. He was educated at the free school,
Norwich, whence he entered Corpus Christi College, Cam-
bridge, as a scholar on Archbishop Parker's foundation. He
graduated B.A. in 1657, M.A. in 1660, was chosen fellow
in 1662, and became B.D. in 1667. For a short time he
studied medicine^ but in 1659 was privately ordained. In
1667 he was presented to the living of Holywell-cum-
Needingworth, Huntingdonshire, by the earl of Manchester,
to whose son he had been tutor, and in 1670 to that of St
Peter's Manoroft, Norwich. In 1680 he received the
degree of D.D., and was presented by Charles IL to the
important cure of St Martin's-in-the-Fields. Tenison, ac-
cording to B'-.-net, "endowed schools, set up a public
library, and kept many curates to assist him in his inde-
fatigable labours." Being a strenuous opponent of the
Church of Rome, and " Whitehall lying within that parish,
ho stood as in the front of the battle all King James's reign,"
E N
175
In 1678, in a Discourse of Idolatry, he had endeavoured
to fasten the practices of heathenish idolatry on the Church
of Rome, and in a sermon which he published in 1681 on
DUcrelion in Giving Alms was attacked by Andrew Pulton,
head of the Jesuits in the Savoy. Tenison's reputation
as an enemy of Catholicism led the duke of Monmouth
to send for him before his execution in 1685, when Bishops
Ken and Turner refused to administer the Eucharist ; but,
although Tenison spoke to him in "a softer and less per- ,
emptory manner " than the two bishops, he was, like them,
not satisfied with the sufficiency of Monmouth's penitence.
Under William, Tenison was in 1689 named a member of
the ecclesiastical commission appointed to. prepare matters
towards a reconciliation of the Dissenters, the revision of
the liturgy being specially entrusted to him. A sermon
which he preached on the commission was published the
same year. He appears to have been better satisfied with
the religious Sentiments of Nell Gwjnn on the approach
of death than with those of the duke of Monmouth, for
in 1691 he preayhed her funeral sermon, in which he re-
presented her as truly penitent, — a charitable judgment
which did not meet with universal approval. The general
liberality of Tenison's religious views commended him to
the favour of William, and, after being made bishop of '
Lincoln in 1691, he was promoted to the primacy in
December 1694. He attended Mary during her last iU-
ness and preached her funeral sermon in Westminster
Abbey. VNTien William in 1695 went to take command
of the army in the Netherlands, Tenison was appointed
one of the seven lords justices to whom his author ty
was delegated. Along with Burnet he attended William
on his deathbed, and it was from their hands that he
received the Eucharist. He crowned Queen Anne, but
during her reign was not in much favour at court. He
was a commissioner for the Union in 1706. A strong
supporter of the Hanoverian succession, he was one of the
three officers of state to whom on the death of Anne was
entrusted the duty of appointing a regent till the arrival
of* George I., whom he crowned on 31st October 1714.
Tenison died at London on 14th December of the following
year. Besides the sermons and tracts above mentioned,
and various others on dilTerent points of the Popish con-
troversy, Tenlsou was the author of The Creed of Mr
Hobbea examined (1670) and Baconia, or Certain Gehuirie
Remains of Lord Bacon (1679).
The Manoirs of the Life and Times of the Most Rev. Palker in Ood,
Dt Thomas Tenison, late Ardibishop of Canterbury, appeared with-
out date not long after his death. See also Burnet's History qf
his own Time and Macaulay's History of England.
TENTfANT, William (1784-1848), author of Anster
Fair, was born In 1784 at Anstruthcr in Fifeshire, the
birthplsLce of two other contemporary Scottish worthies,
Thomas Chalmers and John Goodsir. He was lame from
childhood, Hke his more famous contemporaries Byron and
Scott, and this probably determined his father, who was a
small merchant and fanner, to educate him for a scholarly
career. But the paternal means failed before he had com-
pleted his curriculum at St Andrews, and he was obligee
to return home and act for some eight years of his early
manhood as clerk to one of his brothers, a corn-factor.
The corn-factor's clerk, however, under the impulse of a
genius for language and a strong delight In literature, be-
sides Greek and Latin and Hebrew, mastered, during his
leisure, Italian and German, and not only read, but set
himself to imitate, Arlosto and Wleland. And, strange to
say, this poor youth, in a remote country town, anticipated
the fashion of mock-heroic verse, which was set for England
by " the ingenious brothers Whistlecraft," and which gave
Byron the hint for his Don Juan. Ar.ster Fair, a fantastic
poem in ottava rima, amazingly fluent, brimming over with
176
T E N — T E N
high spirits, figh almost to excess in diction and fanciful
imagery, was written by Tennant in I CJ 1 1 , when his brother's
business had failed and he did not know where to look for
employnient. It« iiublication m 1812 brought the poet
into notice, nild employment was found (or him as school-
master of the parish of Dunino, near St Andrews. From
this be was promoted (ISIG) to the school of Lasswade,
near Edinburgh ; from that (1.S19) to a mastership in
. Dollar academy ; from that (1S31), by Ix)rd JeflTrey, who
had written an admiring review of AnsUr Fair, to the
professorship of Oriental languages in St Andrews. Ten-
nant never fulfilled the promise of his first poem, which
reads as if it liad been dashed off in a fit of careless and
happy inspiration, iiiid never flags in its humorous glee
from the first stanza to'the last The Thantof Fife (1822),
in which he essayed the same vein, evidently cost him
more pains, shows the' same high reach of humorous
imagination, and is indeed, as he claimed for it, "bold in
its style and rare, fantastic, and sublime." But the subject
was more remote from general interest; the mock- epic
machinery, with all his wealth of grotesque description,
was too far-fetched for the popular taste; andthe.poem
fell flat. ', A third poem, in the Scotch dialect. Papistry
tStormed (1827), though full of the most spirited descrip-
tion, was also in a vein of humour that found few sympa-
thizers. ' He wrote also two historical dramas. Cardinal
Beaton (1823) and Jo/in Baliol (1825). Hia last published
ivork was a series of Hebrew Drama) (1845), fouHded on
incidents in Bible history. He died near Dollar, on 15th
February 1848r
A Memoir of Tennant by M. F. Conolly was' published la 1861.
TEXN^NT.SiR James Emerson (1794-1869), English
politician and traveller, the thiid son of William Bnerson,
a merchant of Belfast, was born there on 7th April L794.
He was educated at Trinity College, Dublin, qf which he'
became LL.D. After travelling in Greece, -where he made
the acquaintance of Lord Byron, whos'e sentiments in re-
gard to the Greek cause he fuUy shared, he. studied for
the bar and was called at Lincoln's Inn in 1831. *He
pu1)lislied a Picture of Greece (1S26), Letttnfrom the ^gean
(1829), and a History of Modem Greece (1830), On his
marriage to the daughter and heiress of William Tennent,
a wealthy merchant at Belfast, he adopted by royal licence
the name of his wife in addition to his own. He entered
parliament in 1832 as member for Belfast. In. 1841 he
became secretary to the India Board, and in 1845 he wts
knighted and appointed colonial secretary of Ceylon, where
he remained till 1 850. The result of his residence there
appeared in Christianity in Ceylon (1850) and Ceylon,
Physical, Historical, and Topographical' (2 vols., 1859).
On his return he became member for Lisburn, and under
Lord Derby was secretary to the Poor Law Board from
February to November 1852. From then till 1867 he
was permanent secretary to the Board of Trade, and on
his retirement he received a baronetcy from Lord Palmer-
Bton. In his early years his political views had a Radical
tinge, and, although he subsequently joined the Tories, his
Conservatism was of a mild type. He withdrew from the
Whigs along with Lord Stanley and Sir James Graham,
and afterwards adhered to Peel. . He died in London on
6th August 1869'
V Besides tlic books ftbove mentioned, he wrote Belgium in I84O
(1841) aud limine. Hi Dtdits and Taxation. (1855), and was a con-
tributor to mazaziues and a frequent correspondent of Notes and
Qiuries-
Plate n, TENNESSEE, one ' of the United States of North
America, the third added (June 1796) to the original
thirteen, its predecessors having been Vermont (1791) and
BorniiJ- Kentucky (1792). Tennessee is bounded on the E. by the
»ne3. Unaka Mountains, which divide it from North Carolina,
on the S. by the line of lat. 35° N.. dividine it from Georgia,
Alabama, and Mississippi ; on the W. by tht MississipfS^
river, dividing it from Arkansas and Missouri , an J on tho
N. by a line which erroneous surveys have cau.ied to vary
greatly from the intended boundary, — the line of lat. 36*,
30' N. — the Tariations all being measured to the njrth of
that parallel,' The actual boundary commence.^ at the
north-east corner of the State 7 miles north of 33° SO', and
continues at that distance as far as the frontier of Virginia
and Kentucky, where it diminishes to 5 miles ; thence
to about its intersection with 86° 30' W. it increases to'
1 1 miles ; thence a deflexibn southwards to a point about
2 miles from the Cumberland reduces it to 10 miles ; there
it suddenly shoots north again to 12 miles, which distance
is increased to 12 J by thy time it strikes the Tenne."isoe;
on the other side of that river it becomes very nearly
coincident with the normal 36° 30' ; and to that line it
adheres with very sKgnt aberrations nntil it -Btrikes the
Mississippi. The eastern boundary has one deviation frcrt
the stipulated line : it runs along the culminating ridge of
the Unakas till within 26 miles of the Georgia frontier;
when it turns due south, giving to Tennessee a triangular
piece of territory which should belong to North Carolina
The area of the State was 41,750 square miles in 1680
Its extreme length is 432 miles and its width 109.
Confrgvration and Geology. — Commencing at the eastern iJfulogjr
frontier, the State of Tennessee is divided into several
distrirts, having distinct characteristics and separated by
well-marked natural boundaries, whose general direction
from north-east to south-west corresponds with the trend
of the main valleys (see the geological sketch map in-
serted on pi. n.).
1. T^je mountain region of East Tennessee is a long^a?
row belt of very irregular surface, comprised between the
Unaka Range and a disjointed chain of lower mountains,
the principal of which are called the Chilhowee Range,
and the whole of which may be considered as constituting
the secondary mountain system of the State. The inter-
vening ^pace is occupied by broken masses forming hills,
mounttins, and valleys, some parallel to the principal
rangesj some crossing the space at right angles to them.
This region varies in width from 28 miles to about 7.
All the rocks Of this region and the next to it belong to
what constitute in England the Silurian and Cambrian
systecrjs, the former being found in the western and tho
latter in the eastern part of the district. It has been
contended that some metamorphic rocks near the crest ,
of- the mountains belong to the Archaic (Huronian and
Laurentian) system ; but the preponderance of geological
opinion now assigns them to the same formations as tho
neighbouring rocks, the difference in structure being due
to metamorphic action.' ' The lowest of these, called in
Tennessee the Ocoee group, is believed to be coeval with
the Potsdam group of the American system, — the Lower
Silurian and perhaps the Upper Cambrian of the British
Isles. It consists chiefly of slates and conglomerates, with
the sandstones of the Chilhowee group above. ^bovc
these last are the Knox dolomite group, with its shalci
and limestone more separated from the other two groups
and perhaps not exactly corresponding to any other recog-
nized formations. The crystalline metamorphic rocks are
mainly syenitic and micaceous gneiss, with micaceous, horn?
blendic, and talcose schists. Occasional small dykes of
diorite, greenstone, and basalt traverse these rocks, some
times interstratified, but oftener breaking through them
2. The rocks of the first division are tilted at \ery higl
angles ; those of the second division, the eastern valley ot
the Tennessee, are fractured and distorted at nearly every
conceivable angle, and, in consequence, it is the edges ol
the liplifted strata which here form the surface. The strata
havs been eaten away to form valleys, or . left gtandinf; ei
TENNESSEE
177
"idgej, givinji lue wnol'' ir.ici a deeply cbannelkU cliaracter,
he ridges coiitistiiig of s-iiidstono and dolomite and tbe
»Hll<.ys ot fiuiblc scbists These all trend in the j-rtvaJcnl
jiii»:tion of the Api'nUchi^n upheaT&l, from north-east to
»uih-west. The rivci^ take the same directions, except
vheii thoy I'lCik tlirongh transvct;se fissures in the ridges,
)r work round llicu tcfininations where tliey give way to
;ho outcropping of other rivks ; in the^ cases the current
runs at right anuK-s to tbc;r prevalent direction. AH these
formations belong to llio Silurian period, the oldest cmpping
out to the eastward, the Inter members apjiearing to the
westward. In. some spots the Snbcarboniferous rocks
'.vliich once covered the entire valley have, escaped the
erosive action which swept the rest away. The whole
.iistricl is a valley of denudation which has been e.xcavatcd
by the Tciiiiesscc and its tributaries, — some breaking
through tlie-Unaka barrier,, and others dcscendinj; from-
Virginia along the longitudinal valleys above desciiLed. ,
3. Rising in a steep elevation at from SOO to 1200 feet
ibove the average level of the eastern valley of the Ten-
nessee IS the plateau popularly called the .■ Cumberland
Mountain. This mas.«, sii|ieriiicumbciit on the Silurian
sy-teni, consists of four very distinctly marked formations,
— (i ) the Ucvoni.aii black shale, (ii.) the Subcarboniferous
ailicious beds, (m.) the Monnlaiii Limestone, (iv.) the Coal-
measures. These can easily be distinguished one above
mother on the face of the eastern escarpment ; but on the
western side the first two extend in a wide plain far beyond
the base of the plateau, constituting the fourth district.
The Mountain Limestone is shaly at the bottom, and more
5olid at the top, where it abounds in silicious concretions.
The Coal-measures consist of thick slabs of sandstone and
;onglomerate with the seams of coal inlerstratified between
them. In its southern portion the plateau is divided longi-
tudinally by the narrow valley of the Sequatchie river,
which cuts deep into the subjacent Silurian beds. The
portion east of this valley, known as Walden's Ridge, has
its strata much disturbed and tilted, conformably with
che Silurian rocks below ; the western portion, on the con-
•rary, has all its strata nearly horizontal. This formation,
iveraging about 40 miles in width, is divided by a stratum
af conglomerate 80 feet thick into the upper and lower
Coal-measures, the former of which are much the more
productive, but cover a less area, large portions of it hav-
ing been carried away by denudation. These coal-seams
ire believed to average an aggregate thickness of 8 feet
md to cover an area of 5000 square miles. . _ "
4, 5, 6. The Subcarboniferous area, the central basin,
and the western valley of tho Tennessee can best be con-
S'dered' tcgether. They consist of the Subcarboniferous
licious beds, together with the Ixisins formed by their
erosion, i Qn the western face of the Carboniferous belt
the Mountain Limestone has been carried away with the
harder rocks of tbe Coal-measures above it, but the under-
lying silicious beds have resisted all erosive forces and are
iprvud out over an extended area on both sides of the
Mississippi.* In Tennessee they form a margin round the
cenlril basin and are styled by local geologists the "high-
land rini'^.They consist of two strata, a lower one dis-
tinguished by the absence of lime and iron, and an upper
one v\hicli contains both these materials in abundance.
Both memhors consist mainly of a peeuliar gravel, formed
of silicious concietions embiilded in a stiff retentive clay.
The upper -stratum has in addition considerable horizontal
beds of limestone ;' it contains abundant fossils of a large
coral, Lu/iostroiion canadeTise, by which it is easily recog-
nized, is very fertile, and possessss inexhaustible beds of
liroonitc. The lower stratum is destitute of both fossils
and minerals and is of but little account for agriculture.
L Excavated from this formation is the central valley of
33—9
Tennessee (No. 5),"'surrounded on^airsidcs t>y an" escarp
nient of about 200 feet in depth, by which descent is made
from the " rim " into the valley. All the members of the
Silurian pcrio<l, except the three lowest, are represented
in this valley, which has been formed by the erosive action
of the rircis within its borders : its higher strata were
.carried off northwards by the Cumberland and its tribu-
taries, westward by the Duck, and southward by 'the Elk,
the last two being tributaries of the Tennessee.' , A channel
of erosion along the lower jiortion of the Duck river con-
nects this valley with another (No. C) much "narrower — the
western valley of the Tennes.see — where agiiii the Silurian
beds have been reached by the removal of the Subcarbon-
iferous formations above them. Again, south of the main
basin, the portion drained by the Elk is nearly separated
from the rest by a number of detached hills of the Subcar-
boniferous formation, marking the watershed which divide."!
the headwaters of the Elk from tho.«e of the Duf
7, 8, 9, 10. A little west of the Tennessee river' the
Palajozoic rocks disappear under the Cretaceous formations
(No. 7),and these in their turn are covered successively'
by the Tertiary, Quaternary, and recent formations (Nos.)
8, 9, and 10). The tract of ground covered by these four
formations constitutes the Mississippi slope of western
Tennessee, all of whose rivers run westward and discharge
into the Mississippi. The dip of the strata is very slight;
and the surface inclines with a very gentle slope.
In general terms, the territory embraced in Tennessee
may be described as a great mountain chain on the east,'
from the foot of which extends a gently inclined plane,'
interrupted by an elevation, the Cumberland or Carboni-
ferous plateau, and a depression, the central valley.
HivtTs. — The Cumberland and the Teniics.si-i; arc the prinnipai r.irei%
channels of iiilaml navigation, while the Hississipin, washing the
whole western frontier of the Statc.'is its outlet to the Ciilf o(
Mexico. The headwaters aiij embouchure of the Cumbcrlan.l are
in Kentucky, but much the preater part of its iMvigahle stic:im is
in Tennessee. Frum its coolliience with the Olno, at Sinillilarnl,
Kentucky, to Nashville, a distance of 200 miles it is gcncially
Davigablc for eight months in the year, and during high water it
is soniotimes acccssiblo to light-draft steamboats more than 30<t
miles furtiier' The Tennessee rises in Virginia, crosses east Tenii«s.
see in a south-western direi tion. and enters Alabama a little above
Bridgeport ; in that State it assumes sncccssivcly a westerly ami a
northerly direction, and then re enters Tennessee and ciobses the
State northwards to iu conHuence with the Ohio at Padurah, Ken-
tucky. Its navigablo waters are divided by obstructions into llires
fKjrtions,— (1) from the mouth to Florence, Alabama, 300 miles,
where navigation is arrested by the Muscle shoals; (2) tlicneo
through Alabama, about 100 miles, when the river bre.nks through
the Cumberland Mountain : and (31 from ChatLanoogn to Kingston^
about 100 miles further. -
Agncidturc. — In 1880 tho number of farms was 16.i,650,"embrac-'Agrici|l
ing 8,496,556 acres of improved land, valued at $206,749,837. The fure,
principal productions are Indian com, wheat, oats, cotton, tobacco,
potatoe.s^ pea-nuts, and hay, particulars of which for dilTercut years
are shoftD in the foflowing table : — ^
rr'«Hict
IInlli^nco^l
Wh&it . . .
|Oats . .-.
Cottfin ..ri
iTobacto
Hay
ISM.
52,0Stl,9S6 bush.
ft,4.'9,2r"8 ..
2.207,814 ..
•J36.4|>1 hairt
43.44S.097 tl..
3.7Kr, f.77 liusli
I4J.409 tons.
IS70.
41,34.1.^4 bU^Ii.
f..l8S.016 .. •
4.5n,:il5 ,
181.842 laies.
21 ,480,452 Bi.
2.3i0.020 Imsh.
Il':.is2 toos-
G2.7fi4.42abU3li-
7.a31,3S3 „
4.722.190 „
330.621 bales.
29.Sf.i.052 m.
3.724,3S2 tush
1&6,G0S k)ll^
Issj.
O.7-.S.0C0
■.■.3-.0.000
7,fil!U.00O
31J,.S07
31,3?J.OOO
2.300.000
217.31C
1.U..1.
Ions.
i:
In 188-1 1.0.''.O.O00 biislicla of pea-nuts were produced, as a;?iinst
800,000 ill ISR.": Ill recent years considerable atteution ETas been
^ven to the ttillivatinn of fruit and vegetables. *■
The live stork blatiblics in different years arc shown in the labl(?
wliich follows nc3(t : — "^
fear
I|..rv:»
Callle
Sb«ep.
r.cs-
IMliO
1670
l&«0
ISSi
200.882
247.264
2IV1,I19
2S5.«M
71^4.712
WJ.i.M
78.1 (.74
801.K2J
773.317
826.783
672.780
r<k'..7?0
:..-.i7.32i
I.).iN...:«
2.1'0.4''.'.
2,12.\t.lO
IJ'..14^
•lOi.isrf
171 4'I3
1S7..-05
XXIII.
178
T E N N E S S E_E
ICnmls- Min.erals.-Tbe-chiti mtnfiiats foand in the State are coal, iron
^^^ M^r zinc iead. and manganese. Of coal the output was 494,491
3ta fSo ^1, lOO.OOO^onB in 1SS5 ; in the latter y^ there
Wre-also 268, 400 tons of coke. In 1S80 there were produced 89,933
^^^irou ore (326,040 tons in 1885) 153,880 lb of copper mgots
and r92 621 cubic feet of marble and limestone. Of zinc 17,415
t^^ we;^ produced in 1884. Besides tl« minerals already men-
tioned, Tennessee yields millstone gnt, hydiaolio rock, barytes,
fire-clar, gold, and petroleum. . ' . j _^ r n,
Macn. Jl&ni/^rML -Since 1875 the nmraiactnnng industries of the
S«. State hi^e grown immensely. From 1880 to 1885 the number of
^^ SliSmeS increased from 4326 to 4425, the capital mv^ted
lromS20 092,a45 to 840.763,650, and the value of the manufactured
§^uct, from §37,074,886 to ^5.216,211 ^^\^^\^ ,'>f^.^^
^uiactnred iu the State to the value of $934,014 (^ 1885 to
$2 719,768), carriages and waggons $1,253,721, floor 'and gnst-
iiil products $101^84,804, foundry and '?»clune- shop products
S119U531, iron and steel $2,274,203, leather S2,0pl,087 lumber
$4^015,310, and cotton-seed oil, cotton seed, and cake to the value
P,™i= ^^%mMion.—'The population of the State, which in 1860 was
IT^' 1 109 801 and in isfo 1,258,520, was in 1880 1,542,359 (males
*^ 769 -'77 females 773,082). Of this Last total 403.151 were Negroes.
In Tssi the total population was estimated to number abont
1 800 OOO, giving a density of 43 inhabitants to the square mile.
^ against 86-9 in 1880. The growth of the principal cities is
shown by the following Uble :—
Memphis
Nashville
Chattanooga
tO.226
85,865
33.592
«3.350
12.892
Knoxvllle,
Jackson
8,632
4,U9
9.G93
5,377
Edaca
ban.
The considerable declme in the population of Memphis^ ac-
counted for by two epidemics of yellow fever m 1878 and 1879 (see
Memphis). ChatUnooga is still increasing at a very rapid rate in
consequence of the vast development of the mineral resources of
east Tennessee. KnoxvUle is also growing from the same cause,
but not BO rapidly as Chattanooga. . , , . ,
rrf(,f«(i(W.-Provisiou for common school education was mde
before the Civil War, but was Umited to white children. A btate
bank was established for the purpose of regukting the currency,
and a portion of its capital was reserved as a schoof fund . its pro-
fits wel^ also to be used for school purposes. Tlie fund on which
interest .3 now paid is 8-2,512 500. A h^PJl<^. ^^^VJ^^°^±'
State le^Tslature to increase the permanent State fund to $5^,000.
Besides "this, the proceeds of a tax of 15 per cent- on property and a
poll taji of $1 per annum are appUed to the same purpose. Moreover
kch county has the power of fmposingaschool tait on its people, and
many incorporate cities and towns add still further to it by special
taxes within their limits. All ch£dren between sis and nventy-
one (eighteen until lSS5)are entitled to free education m the pubUo
school* In 1 875 the school population numbered 42t),61 2, of whom
there were 199,058 pupils enrolled. In 1886 the corresponding
fi^s were 609,028 aU 373,877. and in 1887 623,450 and 383,537.
Besides the common schools numerous private schools exist.
Higher education U provided for m several institutions, such as
yaiderbUt university (Methodist) at Nashville, the university ot
the South (Episcopalian) at Sewanee or Cumberland Mountain,
thesouth-westem Presbyterian university at Qarksville, andothera;
the nniversitT of Tennessee at Knorville is supported by btate
.rrants and is not under the direction of any one denomination.
Hany smaUer esUblishments entiUed universities exist in vanous
parts of the State. , i. *. f
Admhris- Admmistratwii, ^-c.-The legisUt^ve and executive functions of
mtion, government are carried on by a governor, a State senate, and a
house of repretenutives, whose respective duties and prerogatives
correspond abnost exactly to those of the president, fenfte, and
representatives of the United States. Both the senators (33) and the
representarivcs (99) are elected for two years. The president of the
senate, who is elected by the senators, succeeds as governor in c^
of the death of the elected governor during his term ot ottice. 1 ne
governor has the power of veto on the Acts of the legislature. In
tase of its exercise, the Act is returned to the legislature, when, if
it passes by a fonstitntional majonty in both houses, it becomes
law in spite of the veto. ... r f„,„
The judiciary admniistration is earned on by courts of four
designations, -the county criminal courts, the circuit courts, the
chfincery courts, and the supreme court of the State. The county
courts consist of the magistrates, who assemble at the county se^t
four times a year to trajisact county bnsuiess. They elect a chair-
man out of their own body, who by virt™ of such election becomes
the financial agent of the county. In counties large enough to
iustify it, a county judge is elected, who exercises cnminal juns
dicHdn. Tuere are fourteen circuit courts, each having jurisdiction
in several coonties ; in these all common-law cases are adjudicated,
«icept in those counties where there is a criminal judge. Lhere
are eleven chancery divisions, for each of which a chancellor is
elected, who tries all cases in equity in his division. All these
judges are elected for eight years. The-judges of the supreme court,
five in number, are elected by the people at large, but not more
than two can be taken from any one of three divisions of the State,
viz., the eastern, middle, and western. Their jurisdiction is purely
appellate : they revise the decisions of the other courts, and their
decisions are final, except where a question arises as to the inter-
pretation of the United States constitution.
ffistary.—At the time of its first settlement and occupation by Hiitory.
Eui-opeans Tennessee was part of the territory granted to the colony
of North Carolina by Charies II. It was then, however, a hypo-
thetical claim, the boundaries of which were chiefly determined by
36° 30" and 35* N lat. The eastern boundary of North Carolina
was the Atlantic Ocean ; on the other side the western territory
extended according to one theory to the Mississippi, according to
another theory to the Pacific Ocean. When the English settlers
began to cross the A-ppalachian chain, they found the French estab-
liSed on th,e Mississippi and its tributaries,— the Ohio, the Ten-
nessee, and the Cumberland. The Spanish claim of an indefinite
extension of their possessions in Florida was also a constant menace
to the advances of the earliest English colonists in the direction of
South CaroUna and Georgia. The most important effort of trans-
montane colonization by the British prior to 1760 was the Estab-
lishment of Fort Loudon on the Little Tennessee river in 1 ?56 or
1757 Bnt in 1760 this post was captured by the Cherokees aflft
its garrison massacred; and the same fate befell a number of
colonists who had settled between Fort Chissel (on New River,
Virginia) and Fort Loudon. Eariy in 1761 Colonel Grant ^com-
pletely routed the Cherokees and compelled their French and Span-
^ allies to withdraw to Louisiana and Georgia.
Eight years later the stream of emigration began to set westwards,
maiiJy by t«-o routes, of which one led through Cumberland Gap ji
to the valley of the Cumberland river, whilst the other followed ^
the course of tte Tennessee round the southern border of the
Cumberiand plateau into the western Tennessee valley. A body
of emigrants from Virginia settled on the banks of the river Hol-
ston, in what is now Hawkins county, and formed the nucleus of
a rapidly increasing colony, which was mainlv recruited from Vir-
ginia and North Carolina. The chief settlement* were on the
Watauga river, extending thence to the Nolichucky, both tnbu-
taries of the Tennessee. The colonists adopted a code ot laws for
themselves based upon those of Virginia, and entrusted their execu.
tion to a bench of five magistrates. Their first trouble related to
,, ...1 . .1 .._1 1_ ^Pl.^^ »..nn/...a.1 f I,aT¥,Co1.T0a f fl HP SPtt.llIKf
on LO a UeUVJli Ut UVD UiO^rotAC*^.-.^. ^..w.. .
le title to their lands. They supposed themselves to be settUng
in Virginia ; but they were really in North Carolina, and therefore
outside of the territory which had been ceded to the British crown
by the six nations of Indians. A further obstacle was a royal pro-
clamation dated nine years before forbidding pnvate persons to
purchase titles from the Indians. Though the Cherokees had no
longer fixed habitarion in the country, they still claimed the whole
ralley for hunting grounds. The dilemma was solved by a lease
negotiated for eight years. The next difficulty arose with the British
GOTcmment in aUiance with the hostUe Indians. But out of these
troubles the colonies on the Watauga, Holston, and NoUchucky
emerged as a populous and powerful community .,_.,,
When it was proposed to liquidate the debts incurred by both the
States and the Federal Government for war expenses by the ^le of
pubUc lands, an Act of Cession was passed in 1784 by the North
Carolina legislature ceding their lands west of the mountains, includ-
ing those of the Watauga settlers, to the Federal Government But
in the foUowing year the North Carolina legislature repealed the
Act of Cession, and the whole matter was thus mdefinitely Mst-
Doned. The Wateuga community now declared rtself independent
of North Carolina ; that State had relinquished its sovereignty over
them and the Federal Goveniment had not accepted it At this
time the traosmoutane territory consisted of Washuigton, SuUivan.
and Greene counties. It also embraced aU the settlements on the
Cumberland, comprismg the existing counties of Davidson, isumner,
Montgomery, Robertson, and Williamson. Davidson county had
been organLd by the influence of James Robertson (one of the
earUest Arrivals from North Carolina, in 1769), who had moved to
the site of the future city of Nashville. But I^avidson county took
no part in these proceedings. The State organized by the secedmg
counties in August 1784 was caUed the State of Fraxito . -to con-
stitirent countils returned to their aUegiance to North Carolina on
1st March 1788. A second Act of Cession was passed m "S^. by
which the defunct State of Franklin became part of the t«mt07
of the United SUtes south of the Ohio, including what now consti-
tutes Kentucky and Tennessee. The northern Port>on became a
State, under the name of Kentucky, in 1792, and the southern pr-
tion ^ok rank as the State of Tennessee i","96, being received
into the Union the same year. The settlement of middle Tennessee
was much retarded so long as the path of access to it f^om «^t
Tennessee was through Cumberland Gap and down the P'"»- "»
broader route round the south of the bumberland plateau by the
Tennessee river was too unsafe for general use on account ol the
T E N — T E N
179
powerfttl Inilian tribes— the Creeks ani. the
obstiole was fiailly removed b_v General Jacksc
be Cherokees. This
I Jackson's crushing defeat
of the Creeks m 1S14, and a large cession of their terntorr.
The position of Tennessee during the Civil War was the same
as that of the other middle and southern States. .While secession
was m agitation, it refused to secede ; but wlien actual hostilities
commenced it joined the Southern confederacy. Even then, how-
ever, "est and middle Tennessee sympathized with the South,
whilst eastern Tennessee sided with the North. Each division sent
very large contingents to the army which it favoured A large
portion of the State was, during the later years of the war, lu the
occupation of the Northern array, and many great battles were
fouglit on its soil, notably those of Fort Lionelson, Murfreesborough
(Stone River), Franklin, and Nashville. Tennessee suffered more
from the exhaustion attendant on the close of the war, and from
the rigorous government which accompanied the period of recon-
struction, than any other State except Virginia.
S« Gtology o/TtniuMa, Nashville. 1SC9 ; Elliott. "Tbe Age o( in, S.'uUiem
Apualachiana," in Aner. Jour of $c, Apnl 1SS3. Bradley, '*0d ttjc 8ilunan
Age of the Southern Appalachiaos," ib., Apnl 1875 . Haywood. The C\vtt and
PolUwal History of t^-f Statt 0/ Ttnnasu from tls earluss Settlemtnt up 10 the K«ar
i796. Kaoiville. lS'i3 : Ramsay. Mnno/j (/r<niwM« to yi< £iui c/ W< ZijiuwirA
Ctntury; Parton. L\Jt of Artdrt\c Jackviri. New York, 1860; Kirke, T^t Rear
Gvard of Ou Rnclu' pn. New York, I8S0 ; Rtporta ofTeODCsaee H13L Soc and
of Bureaa of Agriculture. Mines, asd ImmigratioD. <D. F W.)
TENNIS. This, the oldest, perhaps, of all existing
ball-games, wat once the most difficult to learn, on account
of the intricacy of its laws, and the most interesting when
learnt, because of the great variety of its combinations
and the difficulty of solving rapidly the problems which
are constantly presented to the player. It derives an
additional claim to attention from numberless historical
associations. Of the origin of tennis it is not possible to
speai: with certainty; but it may be confidently assumed
that It sprang from some very simple sport. It first
appeared in Europe in the Middle Ages, when we find
It pla.yed in open courts, in the parks or ditches of the
feudal castles of France and Italy. It was at first the
pastime of kings and nobles, but afterwards became po-
pular wiSi all classes. The French seem to have borrowed
It from the Italians, and to have contributed some of its
refinements ; and the English took
it from the French. Though men-
tioned in the Arthurian romances,
the game was certainly not known
in England in the time of Arthur.
The name tennis is supposed to
be derived from the exclamation
"Tenez!" employed by early French
players in serving the ball. In Italy «
the game is called "giuoco della
paila''; in France, "jeu de paume,"
which also means the tennis court ;
in Germany it is called by the
generic title of "Ballspiel"; in
Spain, "juego al ble" or "jugar al
ble.' It is clear from the French
which a sloping roof, called the penthouse, reaches to the
outer wall. The surrounding passage thus enclosed (not
shown in plan) is 7 feet wide. Opposite to the long
penthouse is the main wall, m which there is at one point
a projection called the tambour, E, which deflects the ball
across the court. In the inner wall, below the penthouse,
there are several openings, the one at the end, on the
service side, being called the dedans, D, the others the
galleries. At the further end of the court is the grille,
a square opening adjacent to the main wall. Across the
court, halfway between the two ends, is stretched a net n,
3 feet high in the middle and 5 feet at the sides. The
game may be played by two, or by three, or by four
players, one against one, one against two, or two against
two. At the commencement the players toss or "spin"
a racket, to decide wbich shall serve first, calling " rough "
yior the knotted side) or "smooth." Tbe party which
wins the " spin " has the choice of the service or the " first
stroke," the Ip'.ter term meaning the return of the service.
The server then begins at the " dedans " end of the court,
technically called the "service side," pitches the ball in
the air, and strikes it with his racket so that it shall drop
on the side penthouse or on the wall above it, and then
from the penthouse upon the floor on the other side of
the net (called the "hazard side"), within the "service
court" bounded by the "service line" x and the "pass
line " p. U he fail to do this, a " fault " is called, or a
"pass" if the ball has gone beyond the pass line. If he
serves a second fault, his adversary scores a point, called
a "stroke." A pass counts for nothing, but annuls a pre-
vious fault.' It now becomes the duty of the adversary,
called the "striker-out," to -eturn the ball by striking it
with his racket in such '. manner that it shall pass back
over the net to the service side. 1 he server must now strike
it again and return it to the hazard side , and the player
w
11
J.
S £ K y / C £
SIDE f
scAii or F£er.
^S
H A 2 A f> O SIDE
name that the ball was originally pian of tennis coort. a. D, walls on each side of dedans ; d. d, gallery walls ; A, grille wall ;
Struck with the palm of the hand. /, net post ; g, g, gallery post ; v, v, first galleries ; y, y, second galleries , i, i, la.st galleries ;
This was afterwards protected by a ^' ^' doors ; o, o, half-court hne ; t, r, openings under net for ventilation and warming ■ " ' ~
z, doors ; o, o, half-court hne ;
4, 5, 6, mark chases.
1, 2, 3,
glove, as is still the practice in the
Basque country. Upon the glove strings and cross-strings
were next stretched, to give a faster impulse ; and the
addition of a short handle made an easy transition to the
racket. In the time of Henry VII. the hand still some-
times met the racket, even in the royal court at Windsor.
One of the first improvements in the game consisted in
the building of closed courts, first with walls, then with
walls and roof. It is still played in the open air in some
places in France, and " pallone." a rude and violent variety
of the game, is yet seen in Italy. There are twenty-seven
courts in England and one in Dublin.
As now played, tennis in France is virtually the same
as in England, though there are a few differences of detail.
The court is rectangular (see the annexed plan). An inner
wall runs round three sides, to the height of 7 feet, from
who first returns tbe ball into the net or " out of court "
{i.e., to the roof, or above the play line on the walls) loses
the stroke, which is scored to his antagonist. But, if a
player fail or refuse to strike the ball in the air (a
" volley ") or on its first bound and before it touches the
floor a second time, then, except on the hazard side beyond
the service line, a "chase" is made or reckoned on the
floor, according to the lines on or between which the ball
has dropped the second time. This chase is a stroke in
'abeyance. When one has been made it is called by the
marker, but does not affect the score until one of the
players has scored 40, when they change sides, and the
player who has allowed the chase to be made must then
endeavour to win it, i.e., to place the second bound of the
* In the Manchester Club this law (8) has been wisvly .ibolisheiL
180
TENNIS
baU returned by him better, i.e., nearer to the end wall,
than the point at which the chase was marked. Aa often
as his adversary returns his stroke, he must again endea-
vour to do this, until he succeeds or fails. If he succeed,
be scores the stroke ; if not, it is scored to his adversary.
If two chases have been made at any stage of the score,
even at the beginning of a game, then the players must
change sides and play for the chases, as above described.
A. player who succeeds in sending the baU into the grille,
the dedans, or the last division of the gallery — called the
" winning gallery " — on the hazard-side, scores at all times
\ stroke. The nunutiae of the game and the mode of
scoring cannot be more succinctly described than in the
innexed laws.*
Laws.
BingU- Handed Oame.
'I. The balls shall be not less than 2 J in. &nd not more than
2} io. in diameter, and shall be not less than 2i oz. and not more
than 2] oz. in weight.
yote.—'niere (3 do restrictloo aa to the Ahape or size of ttie ra^eU.
|2. (a) The choice of sides at the begiAoingof the first set is
determined by a spin.
(6) In subsequent seta of a series, the players shall begin
each set on the side oa which they Snishea the set before it.
, 8. The ball served must be struck with the racket, and may
it delivered from any part of the service aide. .
4. The' b^l served must touch the service penthouse before
lonching any other part of the court, except the rest of the side
penthouse and the service wall ; and it must drop in the service
loart or on one of the lines which bound it
. 6. The service is good,
(a) if the ball served touch in its descent any part of the
service penthouse so as to rise again from it, or
(6) if the ball served strike the service wall and afterwards
■ touch in its descent any part of the service penthouse,
even though it do not rise again from it, or
. ^ (c) if the ball served drop in the winning gallery.
C' A fault may not be returned.
7. A pass may not bo returned ; but a ball served, which has
not gone across the pass line on the penthouse, may be volleyed,
although if untouched it might have dropped in the pass court.
If a pass touch the striker-out, or if a service before it has dropped
touch him when standing with both feet in the pass court, and not
having attempted to strike the ball, it is still counted a pass.
8. A pass annuls a previous fault.
8. If the Btriker-out declare himself not ready for a service, and
have made no attempt to retom it, that service is counted for
nothing, though it be a fault It annuls a previous fault. The
striker-out, having been asked if he is ready, and having declared
himself ready, may not similarly refuse a second service.
10. The server continues ^to serve until two-chases be made, or
one chase when the score of either player is at forty or advantage
(see law 25). The players then chanjge sides, the server becoming
striker -out and the striker-out becoming server.
11. The return is good if the ball in play be stmck with the
racket so that it pass the net without touching a gallery post or
anything fixed or lying in an opening on the side from which it is
•truck, and without going out of court
12. The return is not good,
(a) if not in accordance with the terms of law 11, or
(6) If the ball be struck more than once, or be not definitely
struck, or
(c) if the ball in play, having passed the net, come back and
" "' drop on the aide from which it was struck, unless it
should have touched a gallery post or anything fired
or lying in an opening on that side of the court which is
opposite to the striker
13."A ball which is no longer in play may not be returned.
l4.^Th6 server wins a stroke (except as provided in law 9),
(o) if a eood service enter the winning gallery or the grille, or
(6) if the striker-out fail to return a good service (except
when it makes a chase ; see laws 17-19], or
(c) if the striker-out fail to return the ball in play (except
when it makes a chase ; see laws 17-19), or
(<i).if he himself return (he ball in pUy so that it enter the
winning gallery or grille, or fall on or beyond, the service
line, or
(t) if lie serve or return the ball in play so that it drop or
fall upon a ball or other object which is on or beyond
the service line, or
' IV[irhited from Ihp present writer"i> Annals n/ Tennis, 1878, by
•he kinii loo^cDl of tlip publisher Mr IL Cox.
(/) if he win a ,chase (see law 20), or
(g) if the striker-out lose a stroke (see law 16).
15. The striker-out wins a stroke (except as provided in law 9),
(o) if the server serve two connc^utive faults (exocDt a
provided in law 31 (i)), or
(J) if the server fail to return the ball in flay (except when
it makes a chase ; see laws lZ-19), or
(c) if he himself return the ball in plsv so that it enter the
dedans, or
(rf) if he win a chase, or
(e) if the server lose a stroke (see law 181.
18.' Either player loses a stroke,
(a) if he lose a chase (see law 21),
lb) if the ball in play (except as provided in law 7) toncb
him or anything which he wears or carries, except his
racket in the act of returning the ball, or
(c) if he touch or strike the ball in play with his racket
more than once, or do not definitely strike it
. 17. When a ball in play on either side of the net, not being
that on which the striker is standing,
(a) falls on any part of the fioor, except on or beyond iIk
service line, or
(6) enters any gallery, except the winning gallery, or
(c) touches a gallery post,
it is marked a chase
(a) at that line on the Boor on which it fell, or
(fi) better or worse than that hue on the fioor winch it
nearest to the point at which it fell, or
(v) at that gallery the post of which it touched,
except as provided in laws 18 and 19.
KoU (aX— A ball in play nbicb touches tbc net post and drops oo the side
opposite to the striker Is marked a cbase at the line oq the side on which it drops.
t^oU (6). — A ball in play which enters a gsUery is marked a cLise at that
gallery which It enters, notwithstanding that it may have touched an adjacent
gallery post without toachuig the floor in the interim.
Sou (c).— The gallery Unes on the Qoor correspond aod are eauivaleot to
the galleries of which they bear thA names.
18. When a ball in play
(a) drops or falls in the net, on the aide opposite to the
striker, or
(4) drops on the floor, on the side opposite to the striker,
and, bounding over the net, falls on that side of it from
which it was ."struck, whether it touch the net in its
bound or not,
it is marked a chase at the line on the side opposite to the striker.
19. When a ball in "play drops or falls upon a ball or other
object which is on the floor (except when it is on or beyond the
service line ; see law 14 (c)), it is marked a chase at the point at
which that ball or other object was when the ball in play dropped
or fell upon it
20. Either player wins a chase,
(a) if he serve or return the ball so that it enter a winning
•opening, or
(fr) if he serve or return the ball so that it fall I etter than the
chase for which he played, or enter a gallery or touch
a gallery post better than the gallery or the gallery line
at which the chase was for which he played, or
(c) if he serve or return the ball so that it drop or fall upon
a ball or other object which is at a point on the floor
better than that at which, or at the gallery corresponding
to which, the chase was for which he played, or
(d) if his antagonist fail to return the ball in play, except
when it falls worse than the chase in qu^tion.
2lT^ Either player loses a chase,
(a) if he fail to return the ball in play, except when it falls
worse than the chase in question, or
(i) if he return the ball in play so that it fall worse than
\the chase, or enter a galleiy or tonch a gallery post
worse than the gajlery or the gallery line at which the
-- chaso was for which he played, or
(e) if he return the ball in play so that it drop or fall upon a
ball or other object which is at a point on the floor worse
than thafat which the chase was for which he played.
22 J When a ball in play
"" (o) falls at a poipt on the floor neither better nor worse
than that at which, or at the gallery corresponding to
which, the chase was for which the stiiker played, or
(i) enters that gallery or the gallery corresponding to that
gallery line, or touches the post of that gallery, or falls
on the gallery line corrfspon^ing to that g^lflry, at
which the chase was for which the strike played, or
(c) drops or falls upon a ball or other object which is at a
point on the floor neither belter nor worse than that at
which, or at the gallery corresponding to which, the
chase wns for which the sttikcr played,
it is tnarkcd chase-olT : it i» not scored as a stroke won by either
player . the chase is annulled, and the striker has not
to play for it again
TENNIS
ISl
. a. At soon as two chaaes are marked, or one chase when the
■cote of either pUyer is at forty or advantage (see law 25), the
plsTers change sides. The player who made the firet chase now
aafeods it, while the other plays to win it ; and so with the second
chase, except when only one has been marked.
24. If by an error three chases ha"e been marked, or two chases
when the score of either player is at forty or advantage (see law
25), the last chase in each case is aunuUed.
. 25. On either player winning his first stroke, the score is called
fifteen for that player ; on either player winning his second stroke,
the score is called thirty for that player ; on either player winning
his third stroke, the score is called forty for tiiat player ; and the
fourth stroke won bj either player is scored game for that player,
except as below.
If both players have won three strokes, the score is called deuce,
and the next stroke won by either player is scored advantage
for that player. If the same player win the following stroke,
he wins the game ; if he lose the following stroke, the scoro
is again called deuce ; and so on. until cither player win the
two strokes immediately following the score of deuce, when
the game is scored for that player.
^26. The player who first wins six games wins a set, except as
below.
^lE both players win five games, the score is called games all, and
"" the next game won by either pl.iyer is scored advantage game
for that player. If the same player win the following game,
he wins the set ; if he lose the foilowing game, the sc^ie is
again called games all ; and so on; until either placer win
the two games immediately following the score of ^iiaes all,
when he wins the set.
. ^ou. — Players often agree no*, to play advantage sets, but to decide tlie Bet
by one game after arriving at the ?corc of games all.
27 Every chase is marked, and every stroke scored, by the
marker, who is entitled to con'ult the dedans when he is in doubt
A player who is dissatisfied with the marker's decision is entitled
to appeal to the dedans. A majority of tho dedans confirms or
rcvei^^es the marker's decision. An appeal must be made bei^:>re a
recommencement of play.
jVcijc— Tho dedans should Dot give a decision miasked on a question of
in-iriiing a cbx^e or stroke, but may, and should, correct Inaccurate scoring
of chases, strolsea, games, or sets.
•Thru-Harukd and Four -Hand -4 Games, somc'.imcs called Doullc
. 23. The partners serve and strike-out in .altercate games, unless
it shall have been previously agreed to the contrary.
-•.VeJe. — It is usually, .but not .ii*.vays, agreed thai the strik6r.out may leave
to his partner such services as pass him.
The former laws apply to these as well as to single games,
the advantages and disadvantiges attaching to a single player
under the former laws here attaching to a pair of players,
Odda.
29. (a) A bisqce or a half-bisque m.iy not bo taken after the
service has been delivered.
(i) The server may not take a bisque after a fault ; but tho
stnker-out may do so.
. .Vc!tf.— A bisque is e stroke which may be claimed by the recipient of odds
at any time during a set, subject to the provisions o; laws 28 and 30.
30. A player who wishes to take a bisque or a half- bisque,
there being a chaSe or two chases marked, may take it either
before or after changing sides ; but he may not, after changing
sides, go back to take it.
^31. (a) When the odds of round services are' given, the ball
served by tho giver of the odds must touch the grille pent-
house after touching the service penthouse and before dropping
in the service court or on one of tlie lines which bound it.
(J) Neither faults nor failure in complying with the above
condition are .counted against the giver of the odds ; but the
re-cipicnt of the odds may decline to return such ser\'ice3 as do
not touch both t!ie penthouses ; if, however, he attempt and
fail to return any such service, it is counted against him.
33. Half-court : the players having agreed into which half-court
■m each side of the net the giver of the odds shall play, the latter
loses a stroke if the ball returned by him drop in either of the other
half-courts..
But a ball returned by the giver of the odda which
(a) drops on the h.alf-court line, or ■' i-r^ ' >
(6) drops in hij half-court and touches the dedans'post
' before falling, or ... ' ^
(c) drops in his half-court and falls in the dedan3,""eTcn
though on the other side of the dedans post, or/ ~
(d) touches the dedans post before dropping, '
ia counted for the giver .of the odds.
..And a return boasted against any wall by the giver of the odds
which '
(<) drops in his half-coort, or
(/) dii)ps on the half-court line, or '
i'j) touches the dedans post before dropping, or
(h) touches any penthouse, battery, or wall belore drop-
ping in bis half-court, dropping on the half-court line,
or touching the dedans post,
is also counted for the giver of the odds.
A'orc— It is, of course, cvulcnti tliat th^ giver of these odds may mako a
chase, or win a chase or a stroke, with a ball which drops in his half-court,
or on the half-court line, but falls in the other half-court.
33. WTien the odds of " touch no walls" or "touch no side walls"
are given, a ball returned by the giver of the odds which on fall-
ing makes a nick is counted for the striker.
DiT€ctions to the Marker.
{It is the duty of the marker
to call the faults, and the passes ;
to call thn strokes, when won. or when he is askod to
do so ;
to call the games and sets at tne ena ol cacn, or when
asked to do so ;
to mark the chases, when made ;
to call the chases when there are two in tho order in
which they were made, or tl-.o chase when there is
one with the score at forty or advantage ; and then
to direct the players to change sides ;
to call tho chase or chases again, in order as above,
when the players have changed sides, and each chase
as \ player has to play for it ;
not to call ptay or not play in doubtful cases before the
conclusion of the rest, unless asked to do so ;
to decide all doubtful and disputed strokes, subject to
an appeal to the dedans ;
to warn tho players of any baUs lying on the floor in
their way, or to their danger or disadvantage, and to
remove all such balls ;
to collect the balls into tho ball-basket ; and
to keep the ball-troughs constantly replenished in the
dedans and last gallery, and the latter especially in
three-handed and four-banded games. (J. MA*.)
TENNIS, Lawn. Laivn-tennis is a modern adaptation
of the first principle of tennis, in the simplest form, to a
ball-game played on grass with racltets. The balls are of
india-rubber, hollow, and covered with while cloth. The
rackets are lighter and broader than those used at tennis.
The court for the single-handed game, one player against
one, is shown in fig. 1,- that for the three or four-handed
game in fig. 2. Tho Ciimensiona of the comt.'s, the size
1
£ h\ f £ M
FiQ. 1. Fio. 2.
Lr.»-n-tenni3 courts.- Ftp 1, for single game; fig. 2, for double grmic.
and Weight of the balls, the mode of scoring, and otliti
details are given in the Istwa of the g: me (see below). ' Tin
only requisites for the game are the balls, rackets, net apj
posts, and a hard level surface of grass. - It may be, and
often is, played upon surfaces of ^ wood, asphalt, cement,
gravel, or other substance.' •. The grass requires constant
mowing, rolling, and in dry weather watering, to keep it
182
TENNIS
in order In the winter months it should be sedulously
weeded, sown where necessary, and swept and rolled when-
ever the weather permits.
The choice of sides depends upon a toss or spin of a
racket, as in' tennis. The winner chooses the service or
the preferable side, as he pleases. The server begins
the game by striking the bail with his racket so that it
passes (without touching) over the net, which is hung
across the court from the posts A, A The ball served
must drop m the space which is diagonally opposite to
him on the other side of the net, — a space bounded by
the net, the side line, the half-court line, and the service
line. His adversary, called the "striker-out," most return
the ball before it touches the ground a second time ; and
the server must similarly return it again , and so on, until
one or other player fails to return it over the net so that
it shall drop on the ground anywhere on the side of the
net furthest from him, and within or upon any of the lines
■which bound that space, technically called his adversary's
court. When one player thus fails, he loses a stroke,
which the other is deemed to win, and it is added to the
score of the latter. The score is kept as at tennis, but
there are no chases.
Activity and condition have great value in lawn-tennis,
though there is room for much skill m placing the bail in
the corners with hard, low strokes, and in intercepting and
returning the ball by the volley while m the air, before
it reaches the ground But m matches temper, endur-
ance, and quickness of movement count for very much.
Lawn-tennis, m one form or another, has been played for many
ceDturies out-of-doors. The present vanety of the ^me was first
introduced, in a form which was soon shown to be un practicable,
about the year 1874 It was then taken up by the All England
Club at "Wimbledon, who in 1S77 remodelled the sue and shape of
the court, and the laws, and altered the system of scoring to that
which obtains m the parent game. Thereupon, with the consent
of the M.C. C. at Lord's, who lent the authority of their name to
the movement, the code of laws which now prevails, and has been
occasionally amended only in a few details, was promulgated by
the All England Club The championship of the game, which is
open to gentlemen amateurs ocly, was instituted at Wimbledon by
the A.EC. in 1&77 A lady's championship and a championship
for pairs (gentlemen) have also been instituted, and are annually
competed Tor on the grounds of the A. EC. at Wimbledon. Lawn*
tenniB, in the short time which has elapsed since its introduction,
has achieved immense popularity Prize-meetings are held annu-
ally at Bath, Cheltenham, Dublin, Edinburgh, Manchester, Liver-
pool, and many other places in the United Kingdom ; the game is
alao played with as great enthusiasm in the United States. Canada,
Australia^ and India. In alt those countries prize- meetings are held
umI championships are instituted.
t^Awai
SingU' Handed G<ime.
l. For the 8iDgle-haDde<l game the court is 27 feet In width and 78 feet in
leoftb It is divided across the middle by a net. the ends of which are attached
to the tops of two posts A and A (see Sg. I), which stand 3 feet outside the court
on each side The height of the net is 3 feet 6 inches at the posts and 3 feet
at the centre At each end of the court, parallel to the net, and at a dis
tance of 39 feet from it. are dra«Ti the base hues CD and EP, the extremities of
which are connected by the side lines CE and DF Halfway between the eide
Udc3. and parallel to them, la drawn the half-court line OH, dividing the
apace on each side of the net into two equal parta, called the right and left
courts. On each side of the net, at a distance of 21 feet from it, and parallel
to it, in drawn the service lines XX and TT
2- The balls shall be not less than 2J inches nor more than 2^ iDChe* In
diameter, acd not leas than 1| oz- nor more than 2'oz. in weight.
8. In matches where umpires are appointed their decision shall be final ;
but where a referee is appointed an appeal shall be to him from the decision
of an ninpire on a question of law
4. The choice of sides and the nght of serving during the first game shall he
decided by toss, provided that, if the winner of the toss choose the nght to
•erve, the other player shall have the choice of sides, and itw verscL
5 The players shall stand on opposite sides of the net. The player who first
ielivers the ball shall be called the server, the other the atriker-out-
6 At The end of the first game the striker-out shall become server and the
«rver shall become striker-out ; and so on alternately in the suhaeqaent games
of the set
7 The server shall stand with one foot beyond (i.e., further bom the net
than) the tiaae hne*'&Dd with the other foot upon the base line, and shall de-
Bver the service from the nght and left courts alternately, l>eginniDg from the
fight-
8 The ball served must drop within the service line, half-court line, and
aide line of the court which u) diagonally opposite to that from which it waa
•erred, or upon any such line.
> Printed by permission of the All England I^wn-TennJa Clnb.
9 It IS a fault if the service be delivered from the wrong court, or if the » 4-1 «
do not stand as directed in law 7, or if the ball served drop in the net or beyi-o,
the ser%'ice line, or if it drop cut of court or ic the wrong court ; it is not »
fault if the ser\'er*s foot which is beyond the base line do not touch th«
ground at the moment at which the seirvice Is delivered.
10. A fault may not be taken.
11. After a fault, the server shall serve again from the same conrt from which
he served that fault, unless it was a fault because served from the wrong court-
12. A fault may not l>e claimed after the next service has been deiivered.
13. The service may not be volleyed, i.e., taken before it touches the gronnd.
14. The server shall not ser^e until the striker -out is ready. If the latter
attempt to return the service, he shall be deemed to be ready.
15. A ball is in play from tlie moment at which it is delivered in servlceiOD-
less a feult) until it has been volleyed by the striker-out in his first stroke, or
has dropped in the net or out of court, or has touched either of the playera or
anything that he wears or carries, except his racket in tho act of striking, or
has been struck by either of the players with his racket more than once con-
secutively, or has been volleyed before it has passed over the net, or has failed
to pass over the net before its first bound (except as provided in law 17), or
has touched the ground twice consecjtively on either side of the net. though
the second time may have been out of court-
16. It IS a let if the ball served touch the net. pro\'ided the service be other-
wise good, or if a service or fault be delivered when the striker-ont is not
ready, or if either player be prevented by an accident beyond his control from
serving or returning the ball m play. In case of a let, the service or stroke
counts for nothing, and the server shall serve again-
17 It is a good return although the ball touch the net, or, having passed
outside either post, drop on or within any of the lines which bound Uie court
into which It IS returned.
18 The server wins a stroke if the stnkerout volley the service, or fail to
return the service or the ball in play (eicept m the case of a let), or return the
service or ball in play so that it drop outside any of the lines which bound his
opponent s court, or otherwise lose a stroke, as provided by law 20
19, The striker-out wins a stroke if the server serve two consecutive faults,
or fail to return the ball in play (except in the case of a let), or return the hall
in play so that it drop outside any ot the lines which bound his opponent >
court, or otherwise lose a stroke, as provided by law 20.
I'O, Either player loses a stroke if the ball ki play touch htm or anything
that he wears or carries, except his racliet m the act of striking, or if he touch
or strike the ball m play with his racket more than once consecutively, or if
he touch the net or any of its supports while the hall is in play, or if be voUey
the ball before it has passed the net.
21 On either player winning his first stroke, the score is called IS for that
player , on either player winning his second stroke, the score is called 30 for
that player; on either player winning his third stroke, the score ts called 40
for that player ; and the fourth stroke woo by either player is scored game for
that player, except as below.
If both players have won three strokes, the score is called deuie ; and the
next stroke won by either playe.- is scored advantage for that player
If the same player win the next stroke, he wins the game ; if he lose ihe
next stroke, the score is again called deuce ; and so on until either player
win the two strokes immediately following the score of deuce, when tbe
game is scored for that player.
22- The player who first wins six games wins a set, except as below.
If both players win hve games, the score is called games all ; and the next
game won by either player is scored advantage game for that player. If
the same player win the next game, he wins the set ; if he lose the next
game, the score is again called games all ; and so on until either player
Min the twogames immediately following the score of games ail. when be
wins the set.
t^oU. — Players may agree not to play advantage sets, but to deci'le the set
by one game after arrivirigat the score of games all
23. The plsyers shall change sides at the end of every set: but the umpire,
on appeal from either party before the toss for choice, may direct the players
to change sides at the end of every game if in his opinion either side have a
distinct advantage, owing to the sun, wind, or any other accidental cause . but.
if the appeal he made aller a match has been begun, the umpire may only
direct the players to change sides at the end of every game of the odd and
concluding set.
24. Wh<.n a series of sets is played, the player who was server in the last
game of one set shall t>e striker-out in the first game of the next.
Odds.
25. A bisque is one stroke, which may be claimed by the receiver of the odds
at any time during a set, except as below.
A bisque may not be taken after the service has been delivered.
The server may not take a bisque after a fault, but the striker-out may
do so.
26. One or more bisques may be given m augmeutatioo or dimiDU'uon of
other odds.
27. Half-fifteen is one stroke given at the beginning of the second and every
subsequent alternate game of a set.
28 Fifteen is one stroke given at the beginning of every game ot a set
29. Half thirty is one stroke given at tiie beginning of the flrst game, two
strokes at the beginning of the second game ; and so 00. alternately, in ail the
subsequent games of a set
50. Thirty is two strokes given at the beginning of every game of a set
51. Half-forty is two strokes given at the beginning of the first game. thre«
strokes at the beginning of the second game ; and so 00, alternately, in all tht
subsequent games of a set
52. Forty Is three strokes given at the be-ginning of every game of a set.
33. Half-court : the players having agreed into which court the giver of th*
odds shall play, the latter loses a stroke if the ball, returned by hitn, drop cut-
side any of the lines which bound that court
Three- Banded and Four- Handed Games.
S4. The atwve laws shall apply to the three-handed and four-handed games,
except a« below
35 For the three-handed and four-handed games the court Is 36 feet in
width. Within the side lines, at a distance of 4^ feet from them, and parallel
to them, are urawn the service side lines IK and LM- The ser^ce lines are
not drawn beyond the points I. L. K, and M. towards the side lines In other
respects, the court is similar to that which is described in law 1.
36. In the three-handed game the single player shall serve m every alternate
game.
37. In the four-handed game, the pair who have the right to serva in tha
first game may decide which partneT shall do so, and the oppoaiug p*Jr may
decide similarly for the second game. The partner of the player wjio MrYea
in the first game shall serve in the third . and the partner of the player irt.o
jBerved in the second game shall .serve in the fourth ; and so on In the sam*
order in all the eubseqaent games of a set.
T E N — T E P
183
SS. The pUvers shall take the service alternately throughout each paine. N*o
player shall receive or return a service delivered to his partner. Tlie onier
of service and of striking^out once arranged shall not be altered, nor shall the
strikera-ont change courts to receive the service, before the end of the set.
39. The lall ser^-ed must drop within the service line, half-court line, and
service side line of the court which is diagonally opposite to that from which
it WZ3 served, or upon any such hue.
40. It is a fault if the ball served do not drop as provided in law 39, or if it
touch the server's partner or anything that he wears or carries.
41. If a player serve out of his turn, the umpire, as soon as the mistake is
discovered by himself or by one of the players, shall direct the player to serve
who ought to have served : but all strokes scored and any f.iult served before
Ruch discovery shall be reckoned, if a game shall have been completed before
Buch discovery, then the service in the next alternate game shall be delivered
by the partner of the player who served out of his turn ; and so on in regular
rotation. (J. MA".)
TENT. A tent is a portable habitation or place of
shelter consisting in its simplest form of a covering of some
textile substance stretched over a framework of cords and
poles, or of wooden rods, and fastened tightly to the ground
by pegs. Throughout the greater part of the interior of
Asia the pastoral tribes have of. necessity ever been dwellers
in tents, — the scantiness of water, the consequent frequent
failure of herbage, and the violent extremes of seasons
compelling a wandering life. Tents have also been used
in all ages by armies in campaign. In ancient Assyrian
sculptures discovered by Layard at Nineveh the forms of
tent and tent-furnishings are similar to those which still
prevail in the East, and it appears that then as now it was
a custom to pwtch tents within the walls of a city. The
ordinary family tent of the Arab nomads of modern times
is a comparatively spacious ridged structure, averaging
from 20 to 25 feet in length, but sometimes reaching as
much as 40 feet. Its covering consists of a thick felt of
black goat hair (cp. Cant. i. 5), or sometimes of alternate
stripes of black and white disposed horizontally. The ridge
or roof is supported by nine poles (aicamid) disposed in
sets of three, the central set being loftier than those at
each end, whereby a slope outward is formed which helps
to carry oflF rain. The average height inside at the centre
is 7 feet and at the sides 5 feet, and the cloths at the side
are so attached that they can easily be removed, the shel-
tered end being always kept open. Internally the tent is
separated by a partition into two sections, that reserved
for the women containing the cooking utensils and food.
The jourt or tent of the Kirghiz of Central Asia is a very
capacious and substantial structure, consisting of a wooden
frame for sides, radiating ribs for roof, and a wooden door.
The sides are made up of sections of laths, which expand
and contract in lozenges, on the principle of lazy tongs,
and to their upper extremities ribs are lashed at regular
intervals. Over this framework a heavy covering of felt
is thrown, which is either weighted down with stones or,
when necessary, stitched together.
In Western countries tents are used chiefly in military
encampments, by travellers and explorers, and for tem-
porary ceremonial occasions and public gatherings. The
material of which they are composed is commorly a light
linen canvas or navy duck ; but for tents of small size stout
cotton canvas is employed, being light, strong, elastic, and
svifficiently waterproof. These tents vary in size from a
low-pitched covering, under which a couple of men can
with difficulty creep, up to spacious marquees, in which
horticultural and agricultural shows are held, and which
can accommodate thousands of persons.
The mai-qnee ia distinguished from the tent by being a ridged
structure, devoted to show and social uses ; but the humblest tent
made — the CenU d'ahri or shelter tent of the French army —
is also ridged in form. The tentt d'abri affords sleeping accom-
modation for six men, aiid consists of a rope stretched over three
low poles and fixeJ into the ground. Four separate squares of
canvas buttoned togethep are thrown over the rope and pegged to
the ground on each side so as to form a low ridge. Two other
squares are used for covering the ends, being thrown over the
slanting rope ends by which the poles are pegged to the ground.
Each of the six men using the tent carries one of the squares
of canvas besides his quota of the poles, rope, and pegs. The
Gipsies and travelling tinkers of England Kave an equally unpre-
tentious tent, which consists of a framework of hazel rods bent so
as to form a series of low ridges, the ends being stuck into tho
ground, and over this frame blankets or other coverings are thrown
and pegged down. The simple.";!, but at tlie same time the least
convenient, of ordinary tents is the conical, consisting of a central
pole with ropes and canvas radiating from it in an unbroken slope
to the ground. This form, however, covers much ground in pro-
portion to the accommodr.tion it afibrds, as the space round the
circumference is of little value. A tent, therefore, which has sides
or a fall is a much more convenient structure. The counterpart
of the conical is the pyramidal tent, the four equal sides sloping
to the ground ; and this form with a fall or sides makes the square
tent, which is both convenient in shape and firm in structure.
Small tents are also made, modified from tlie Arab form, with a
central pole and two lower lateral poles. In the umbrella tent
the roof is supported by a set of ribs which radiate from the pole,
precisely as the ribs of an umbrella spread out from the stick. Iii
the balloon expansion tent, invented in 1S77 by Captain Newburgh
Stewart, R.N., the use of tent pole, pegs, and ropes is entirely
avoided, the canvas being supported by light ribs of elastic wocu
resting on the ground, and the structure is kept taut by hauling
ropes descending from the apex and secured by a holdfast driven
into the ground. When from the nature of the surface such fasten-
ing cannot be obtained, a lieaN-y weight of any kind hung to the
hauling rope is sufficient to moor the tent, and except in stormy
weather the weight may be hung high up, thus leaving the whole
interior of the tent clear. As further provision against stress of
weather there are four iron holdfasts at the sides, which may be
skewered into the ground by long iron pins. Captain Stewart
claims that his tent possesses much greater stability and capacity
than the ordinary army tent, that it is much more easUy and ex-
peditiously pitched and taken down, and that it is very much
lighter. In the latter important respect he calculates that by the
adoption of his pattern a regiment at present carrying eighty tents
of the Indian service pattern would save no less than twenty tons
of transport.
TEPLITZ, or Toplitz, one of the most frequented
watering-places in the north of Bohemia, is picturesquely
situated about 30 miles south of Dresden, in the plain
of the Biela, which separates the Erzgebirge from the
Bohemian Mittelgebirge. The main interest of the little
town centres in the bathing season, which reaches its
height in August ; and the arrangements for the con-
venience and amusement of visitors are very complete.
There is a large curhaus, and nunieious handsome bath-
houses are situated both in Teplitz and in the immediately
adjoining village of Schbnau. The environs are laid out
in pretty and shady gardens and promenades, the finest
being in the park which surrounds the chateau of Prince
Clary, the superior of the town. The other chief build-
ings are the Roman Catholic and Protestant churches, the
Jevrish synagogue with a conspicuous dome, and the
theatre. The saline-alkaline springs of Teplitz, ten to
twelve in number, ranging in temperature from 90° to
117° Fahr., are classed among what are called "indiflferent"
waters. Used until lately almost exclusively for bathing,
they are prescribed for gout, rheumatism, and some scro-
fulous, affections, and their reputed efficacy in alleviating
the eflects of gun-shot woimds had gained for Teplitz the
sobriquet of "the warriors' bath." Military baths are
maintained in the town by the Governments of Austria,
Prussia, and Saxony, and there are also bath-houses for
the poor. Teplitz is much visited for the after-cure, after
Carlsbad and similar spas. The number of patients in
1883 was 6000 and the passing visitors were almost as
numerous. The presence of a bed of lignite in the
neighbourhood has encouraged the industrial development
of Tephtz, which carries on manufactures of cotton and
woollen goods, india-rubber, chemicals, hardware, ic. In
1880 the united population of Teplitz and Schbnau was
16,750.
The thermal springs are fabled to have been discovered as early
as 762, but the first authentic mention of the baths occurs in the
16th century. The town is mentioned in the 12th century, the
name being derived from a Slavonic word meaning "warm bath."
Teplitz figures in the history of Wallenstein, and is also interest-
ing as the spot where the monarchs of Austria, Russia, and Prussia
first signed the triple alliance against Xapoleou in 1S13. It i? &
184
T E R — T E R
curious fact that on the day of tho earthquake at Lisbon (Ist
■November 1775) the main spring at Teplitz ceased to flow for some
minutes.
TEBAMO, a town of Italy, capital of the province of
Teramo (formerly Abruzzo Ulteriore I.) and an episcopal
see, stands on the left bank of the Tordino where it is joined
by the Vezzola, 12 miles from the coast and 876 feet above
sea-level. It is connected by a branch line with Giulianova
on the railway from Ancopa to Brindisi. The picturesque
valley of the Tordino is here dominated by the peaks of
the Gran Sasso d'ltalia (9522 feet). The town is traversed
by one straight wide street with large hoases, but for the
most part it consists of narrow dirty lanes ; the modern
suburbs are good. The cathedral (1317-55) has been
greatly modernized j the church of San Agostino is in the
later Gothic style. The antiquities inclide remains of a
gateway, a theatre, and baths, as well aa numerous in-
scriptions. There ai-e manufactures of wool and silk, and
of straw hats and pottery. The population of the town
in 1881 was 8634, with its suburbs 13,988 (commune,
20,309)-. ■'
Terams is the ancient InUramna Preetuiiana, capital of the
Prsetutii. In the Middle Ages it was known as Aprubum (whence
Abruzzo) : the intermediate form of the presen t name was Teramne.
TERAPHIM (D'ain), a Hebrew word found only in
the plural, which the Authorized Version sometimes simply
transcribes (Judges xvii. 5, xviiL 14 sq.; Hosea iii. 4), but
elsewhere translates by " images " (Gen. xxxL 19 and often
elsewhere), "image" (1 Sam. xix. 13), "idols" (Zech. x.
2), "idolatry" (1 Sam. xv. 23). The etymology of the
word is quite obscure (see Gesenius, Thesaurus, p. 1519
sq.), but it appears that the teraphim were a kiud of idols
(Gen. xxxi. 30), with something of a hvmian figure (1 Sam.
lix. 13); and, though their use was condemned by the
prophets (1 Sam. xv. 23; cp. 2 Kings xxiii. 24), they Were
long commonly used in popular worship, both domestic
(1 Sam. xlx. 13, in the house of David and Michal) and
public (Judges xviii.). They are associated with the ephod,
which in this connexion seems to mean a plated image;
and Hosea speaks of ephod and teraphim as essential
elements in the religious usages of northern Israel. Like,
the ephod, they were specially associated with divinatiod,
and in particular with the sacred lot (Zech. x. 2 ; Ezek. xii.
21 [26]). From the last passage it appears that teraphim
were used by the Babylonians as well aa by the Hebre'^sV
|Thesei statements and references cover all that is knowa
about the teraphim ; the fables of the rabbins are collected
in Buxtorf, Leii, Talmud., 2660 act.
TEEBURG, Oeeakd (1608-1681), subject painter, was
born in 1608, at Zwolle, in the province of Overyssel,
Holland.'': His father, also an artiste, sent him to study in
Rome, where he adopted a style distinguished by great
finish and accuracy. He practised for a time in Paris
with much success, visited England, it is said, and tben
returned to Hollands In 1648 he was at Miinster during
the meeting of the congress which ratified the treaty of
peace between the Spaniards and the Dutch, and executed
his celebrated little picture, painted upon copper, of the
assembled plenipotentiaries, — a work which, along with
the Guitar Lesson, now represents tho master in the-
national collection in London. , At this time Terburg was
invited to visit Madrid, where h© received employment
and the honour of knighthood from Philip IV It is said
that, in consequence of an intrigue, he was obliged to
return to Holland, i, He seems to have resided for a time
in Haatlem ; but he finally settled in Deventer, where he
became a member of the town council, as which he
appears in the portrait now in the gallery of The Hague.
He died at Deventer in 1681.' ~
Terburg is excellent as a portrait painter, but still greater as a
fainter of aenrs subjec.s. He depicts with adaimbls truth the
life of the wealthy and cultured classes of his time, and his work
is free from any touch of the grossness which finds so large a
place in Dutch art. His figures are well drawn and expressive in
attitude ; his colouring is clear and rich ; but his best skill lies in
his unequalled rendering of texture in draperies, which is seen to
advantage in such pictures as the Letter in the Dutch royal col-
lection, and in the Paternal Advice (known as the Satin Gown) —
engraved by Wille— which exists in various repetitions at Berlin
and Amsterdam, and in the Bridgewater Gallery. Terburg's work*
are rare ; only about eighty have been catalogued.
TERCEIRA. See AzoEES, vol. iii. p. 171.
TEREDO, a genus of LameUibranchiate MoUttscaf xl
the order Isomya, sub-order Sinupallia, family PKbliidacea
(see MoLLUSCA, vol xvi. p. 685). The animals included
in this genus are commonly known as " ship-worms,"
and are notorious for the destruction which they cause in
ships' timbers', the woodwork of harbour?, and piles oi
other wood immersed for a long period in the sea. They
inhabit long cylindric^il holes, which- they excavate in
the wood, and usually occur in great numbers, crowded
together so that often only a very thin film remains between
the adjacent burrows. Each burrow is lined with a layer
of calcareous substance secreted by the mollusc ; this
lining is not usually complete, but stops short a little
distance from the inner end of the burrow, where the boring
process continues to take place. In some burrows, how-
ever, the lining is complete, either because the animal has
reached its fuU size or because some cause prevents it
continuing its tunnel ; in such cases the calcareous tube
has a hemispherical termination. The burrow^ are usually
driven in the direction of the grain of the wood, but not
invariably so. When a knot or nail or the tube of a
neighbour is reached, the course of the burrow is altered
so as to bend round the obstruction. \ One burrow is never
found to break into another.
The adult Teredo, when removed from its burrow and
calcareous tube, is from a few inches to 3 feet in length,
according to the species to -which it belongs, and is
cylindrical and worm -like in appearance. The anterior
<SJid, which lies at the bottom of the burrow, is somewhat
enlarged and bears a pair of shells or valves, which are
not connected by the usual ligament, but are widely
separated dorsally. - The valves are triangular in shape
and very concave on 'the aide which is in contact -with the
animal. In front their edges are widely separated, and
the mantle tube, which is elsewhere closed, has here a
slight median aperture, through which the short sucker-like
foot can be protruded. The next portion of the body
behind the shell-bearing part is naked, except for the
shelly lining of the burrow, which is secreted by this
part. Anteriorly this portion contains part of the body
proper; posteriorly it forms a. tube divided internally by
a horizontal partition into two chambers. In the lower
chamber are the elongated gill plates, which have the
typical lamellibranchiate structure. In the upper chamber
anteriorly is the rectum. A thick muscular ring terminates
this region of the body, and bears two calcareous plates
shaped like spades or battledores. The expanded parts
of these plates are free and project backwards ; the handle
is fixed in a deep socket or pit lined by epidermis, t. These
calcareous plates are called pallets (Fr. pa/mules). Behind
the pallets the tubular body bifurcates, forming two siphons
similar to those of other Lamellibranchs ; the siphons can
be contracted or expanded within wide' limits of length.'
The principal organs of the body — stomach, heart, genera-
tive organs, and nephridia — are situated in the anterior part
of the body, forming a visceral mass, which extends some
distance behind the valves. The heart is above the in-
testine and not perforated by it. The two valves are
connected by aal anterior adductor muscle.
From its resemblanoe to Phelas, Teredo is placed by concbologisti
in tho family Pholadidm, among the Isomya ; but it is still unde*'
TEREDO
aiei wliich part of the body corresponds to the posterior adductor.
According to Quatrefagea, it is a muscnlar band passing transversely
between tie handles or the pallets. His discussion of this point is
connected with another, namely, the natore of the k>ag rabolar
portion of the body behind the vulvea, Deshayes limits uie extent
of the mantle to the part covered by the shell, and considers all
the rest of the animal as formed by the siphons ; the branchiae and
pert of the other viscera in this view are contained in the siphons,
jjoatre&ges argues that the siphons commence at the point where
their retractor mosdes are inserted, namely, at the muscular nng
corresponding to the pallets. This reasoning is plausible ; but it
IS difficult to acoept the new that the retractor muscles of the
siphons and the posterior adductot muscle are 90 closely connected
IS Quatrefages thinks , in other Isamya the retractors of the siphons
and the postenor adductor aro distinct and separate. Deshayes
believes that the single adductor between the valves results from
rhe fusion of the two muscles usually separate. Jefeeys believes
that the posterior adductor is really present between the posterior
pans of the valves , but the opimon of a conchologist on a qnestion
of morphology is not of very great weight. In other Is<nnya the
visceral (parieto-splanchnic) ganglia are attached to the ventral
surface of the posterior adductor. In Teredo theso ganglia are
situated at the posterior end of the body proper, some distance
behind the shells, and immediately behind the generative organ
It is here probably that the rudiment of tho posterior adductor, if
It exists, IS to be sought ; or, if it does not exist, it is here that it
onfiinaliy was placed.
It is evident that the anatomy of Teredo has not yet been in-
vestigated from the point of new of modem morphology ; but as
far as can be judged at present the body proper extends liick some
distance behind the shells, to the posterior Uuiit of the visceral
mass. The part between this and the pallets is a tubular prolonga-
tion of the mantle chamber containing the extended giU laminse,
and beyond the pallets are the separate siphons. Besides the
visceral ganglia a cerebral and a pedal pair are present , The
stomach is provided with a large crystalline style. The function
of the pallets is to form an operculum to the calcareous tube when
the siphons are withdrawn into it In some species the external
or narrower end of the calcareous tube is provided with transverse
laminae projecting into the lumen ; and in some the external aper-
ture is dirided by a horizontal partition into two, one for each
siphon.
The Teredo, according to Quatrefages, is dioecious, though Gwyn
Jeffreys believes it to be hermaphrodite. As in the case of the
oyster, the ova are retained in the branchial chamber during the
early stages of their development The segmentation of the ovum
\s unequal, and leads to the formation of a gastrula by epibole
By the growth of a preoral lobe provided with a ring of cilia, and
by the formation of a month and an anus, the trochosphere stage is
reached. A pair of thin shells then appear on the sides of the larva
connected by a hinge on the dorsal median line, and the foot grows
out between mouth and anus. By the time the larvse "swarm,"
or leave the branchial cavity of the parent to live for a time as free-
Bwimming pelagic larva, the valves of the sheU have grown so large
»3 to cover the whole of the body when the velum is retracted ■ the
root 13 also long, cylindrical and flexible, and can be protruded far
beyond the shell The valves of the sheU at this stage are hemi-
sphencal m shape, so that the whole larva when its organs are
retracted 13 contained in a globular case.
Concerning tho later changes of the larva and tho method by
which It bores into wood nothing or Uttle is known from direct
observation. Much has been written about the boring of this and
other marine animals, but even yet the matter cannot be said to be
satisfactorily elucidated. Osier, in a paper in PhU. Tram , 1826
argued that the Teredo bores by means of its shells, fixing itself bv
the surface of the foot, which it uses as a sucker, and thra rasping
the wood wub the rough front edges of the shell-valves. This view
was founded on the similarity of the arrangement of the shells and
muscles la Teredo to those occurring in Pholas. in which the method
nl,^,Ti^.K''%^'l 'S.f ^'='"''"y observed. W Thompson, in a
fhfft^ ^^ £rfm6. .V««, PhU. Jm^rr,.. 1835, snpporteTthe view
^aV^r., I ''° ?'^'' ,. ^'^°y ^^■^■^'^^. again Unn. and Maq
/fat. flw(., vol XV ), thmks that the excavating power of Teredo
13 doe to siUcioM particles embedded m the-antenor portion of the
aitegument, in front of the valves. But the actuare™stcnce of
jX.? i!r"' P^"-"*^'"," "<=*<! secretion has been denied by othe.^
buS^^ In'f.'''f tl'^^oot i3 the organ by which thj animd
d^Z. . K *''* '"<'"■ '"""^' °f Lamellibranchs the foot is
Hmi/T n ''°™""'g »'-g»n. and H is difficult to see low the
m^"^, nf'','^'" "r"' ^\'- "^^ '" "^''^ '' " »'t^<=''ed if not by
explain how fJ? f» '" ^'^^ c ^' "=^ ^""^ '*™« " ^^ "^iffi-^"" '»
explain how the soft muscular foot can penetrate into hard wood
tt^^J'^^,^ of course slow, and Jefl-reys supposes that particles
}Ztt^^vr'^^°'" ^""^ '^' moistened sSrface to wSich the
tSich .31 '1 ^5" T^ ""^ "^''"^ "'^ '^o^fe'l by an epidermis,
Wuch coold scarcely be there if they were useH in burrowing.
186
t.T^ ^"^ ^^ burrows at an extremely rapid rp'.e -. -pawnimi
Ctakes place in the spring and summer, and before tht eud of Iht
the animak are adult and their burrows of largf size. Quatre.
»..H '^^.V^.'K* " ^^P-^ooa (N Spain) a fen^-boat was sunk
Wentally in the spring, and was raused four months afterwaids.
^« IZL^^ f^l™^ ^\^ '" °°' accurately known, b\rt Qnatn,-
fages found that they nearly all perished m the winter. ThL can-
^ H.l^,!;?'?^ ^ "" '^^ ^ ""^ ^^ »f ""o '"bes v;iries so greatly.
In HoUand their greatest ravages are made iu July and lugust
Iron ships have nolhing to fear from theu- attacks, and the co^r
sheathmg now almost miiversally usc-d protects wooden hulls. A
gT<»t deal 01 loss IS, however, caused by Teredo in harbour works
ajid shipping stages, and the embankments in HoUand aro con-
tinually mjured by It The most efficient protection is afforded by
large-headed nails driven in lu close proximity Soakms wood in
fn"t^^.If ?"'/ certain safeguard , Jeffreys found at Anstianm
in 1863 that a large number of harbour pUes previously soaked^
creasote had been completely destroyed by 2^ navalis. Coal tar
and the silicate of lime, used for coaring stonework, have been sue-
gested as protective coverings, but they do not seem to have been
adequately tested.
Species of Teredo occur in all seas. The animal was known to
the ancients and 13 mentioned by Theophrastus. Pliny, and Ovid
i?d " ^ mentioned by Valisnieri. in 1720 by Deslandea, In
1733 great attention was drawn to it on account of the discovery
that the wooden dykes of HoUand were being rapidly destroyed
by ship-worms, and that the country was in danger of inundatioa.
Three treatises were published concerning th« animal, by P. Mas-
suet, J. Rousset and Go<ifrey Sellius. The work of the last-named
which was the best, described the anatomy of the creature and
showed that its affinities were with bivalve moUuscs. Tho truth
of Sellius's view was not grasped by Linmeus, who placed Teredo
together with Serpula in the genus Dentaiium ; but its proper
position was re-established by Cuvier and Lamarck. Adanson
unaware of the work of Sellius, iu 1767 beUeved himself to b« the
hrst to discover the moUnscan affinities of Teredo. It wUl not b«
necessary to give here a definition of the genns taken from Any
systematist ; it will bo sufficient to point ont that tho long cy-
hjUdrical body with its two small anterior polygonal valves, the
absence of a ligament and accessory valves, the muscular ring
into which are inserted the calcareous pallets, and the continuous
calcareous tube lining' the hole bored by the animal are the
diagnostic features.
Jeffreys, in his British Conchology, gives the following species as
British -.—Teredo norve^ica, Spengler; T. navalis, Linn.; T. pedi-
eella^, Quatrefeges; T. megotara, Hanley. T. rurnxgica occurs
chiefly on the west coast of Great Britain. It was taken by
Thompson at Portpatrick in Wigtownshire, and occmied iu Jef-
reys's time in abundance at MUford Haven. This species has been
described by Gmelin and a number of British authors as T. nivalis^
Linn. It is distinguished by having the base of the pallets simple,
not forked, and the tube semi-concamerated at its narrower pos-
terior end. The length does not usually exceed a foot It is the
T. navium of Selhus T. imvalis has been identified from the
figures of Sellius, to which Linnasus referred ; Sellius called it T.
marina. It occurs on all the western and southern coasts of
Europe, from Christiania to the Black Sea. and is the species which
causes so much damage to the Dutch embankments. The pallets
of this species are small and forked, and the stalk is cylindrical.
The tube is simple and not chambered at its narrow end. T.
pediceHeiia was originally discovered by Quatrefages in the Bay rf
Los Pasages on the north coast of Spain ; it has also been found in
the Channel Islands, at Toulon, in Provence, and in Algeria. In
T. megotara the tube is simple and the pallets like those of T.
nonxgica; it occurs at Shetland and Wick, and also on the westeni
shore of the Atlantic where its range extends from l^lassachnsetts
to South Carolma. T. vialleolus. Turton, and T bipinnata. Turton.
belong to the West Indies, but are often drifted in floating timber
to the coasts of Europe. Other occasional visitants to the British
shores are T. excavata, tnparlila, spatha, fustiailus, mcutlata, and
fimirriata. These were described by Gwyn Jeffrey-s in Ann. and
Mag. Nat Bist., 1860. T fimtmata is stated to be a hative of
Vancouver's Island. A kind of ship-worm, the NausiUyra dtinlopei
of Perceval Wright, has been discovered in India, 70 miles from
the sea, in a stream of perfectly fresh water, namely, the river
Kumar, one of the branches of tho Ganges. T. camiformis. Lam.
Sheppey and Brabant are pierced in the same way.
Twenty-four fossil species have been recognized in the Lias and
succeeding beds of Europe and the United States. The sub-genus
Teredina,Lim. , is a fossil of the Eocene of Great Britain and France.
tit*Ta(iire. — See, bcside.i the works already mentioned, Godfrey Sellins,
Sf ""f, ''.•""r^" Ttrrdinia sru XylopUgi itarini, 17S3 ; AdiDson. Hislotre
liatiirtUt du Stnigal. Paris, 1757 ; ^uatrttges, Anmila da Hd !>'ai.. 184S-iO ;
xxnL
24
186
T E R — T E R
Forbes and Hanley, /fn'. Molluxa, 1853 ; B. Hatschek, EitivHcklung v. Tertdo:
ArbeiOm oils dem Zool. Itutt. IVicn^ 1880 ; Dcshayea, MoU-usques iTAlgirU ; Sir E.
Qome, " Aiiatomy of Terrdo" in Phil. Tmrw., vol. icvi. ; Frey and Leuckart,
BeitTO^ ZV.T Kenntniss wirbelUtser Thiers 1347 ; Woodward, Manual of MoUiisca^
[rondon. 1S5L (J. T. C)
TEREK (Russ. Terskaya oblasl), a Russian government
of Caucasia, situated to the north of the main Caucasus
chain. It is bounded by Stavropol on the N., by the
Caspian Sea and Daghestan on the E., by Tiilis and Kutais
on the S., and by Tchernoniorsk and Kuban on the W.
It has an area of 23,548 square miles. From Mt Elburz
to Kazbek the southern boundary coincides with the main
enow -covered range of the Caucasus and thus includes its
highest peaks ; further east it follows a sinuous line so as
to embrace the secondary chains and their ramifications.
Nearly one-third of the area is occupied by hilly tracts,
the remainder being undulating and flat land belonging to
thfrdepression of the Terek , one-half of this last, on the
left bank of the river, is occupied by sandy deserts, salt
clay steppes, and arid stretches unsuiled for cultivation.
Granites, syenites, diontes, and Palaeozoic schists consti-
tute the nucleus of the Caucasus mountains ; Jurassic and
Cretaceous formations rise to great heights in the secondary
chains ; and a senes of Tertiary formations, covered by
Quaternary deposits, cover a wide area in the prauies and
eteppes. A group pf mineral springs occurs about Pyati-
gorsk (q.v.).
The climate is continental. The mean annual temperatures are
49°-6 Fahx. at Pyatigorsk (1850 feet above the sea ; January 39°,
July 70°) and 47°7 at Vladikavkaz (2230 ft ; January 23°, July
69°), but tiosts a few degrees below zero are not tmcommon. The
mountain slopes receive an abundance of rain (37 in.), but the
steppes suffer much from drought (rainfall between 10 and 20 in. ),
Nearly the whole of the government belongs to the drainage area
of the Terek, but the uorth-west corner is watered by the upper
tributaries of the Kuma. The Terek rises at tlie height of about
8000 feet in tlie glaciers of the Kazbek on the southern slope of tlie
main chain of the Caucasus, which it pierces by the Darial gorge to
the south of Vladikavkaz after having received several do7i3 or
streams (Res, Guzel, Flag, Ar). In 53 miles it descends nearly
6000 feet. A few mijes above Vladikavkaz it is 2068 feet above
sea-level, at Mozdok 441 feet, and it is 29 feet below the Black Sea
at Kizlyar. From Vladikavkaz it pursues a north-easterly direction
before taking its eastward course ; it seems most probable that at a
recent epoch (Post-Pliocene) it joined the Kuma and perhaps the
Manytch instead of flowing into the Caspian. In the lower part
of its course it flows at a higlier level than that of the neighbouiTng
plains, and is kept in its bed by dams. Inundations are frequent
and cause gi-eat destruction. The delta begins at Dubovka (50
miles from the Caspian), and at this part the river frequently
changes its bed. The Old Terek is no longer navigable, the chief
ctnrent being directed northwards into tlie New Terek. Several
canals made by the Cossacks supply water for the irrigation of the
neighbouring fields. Us chief tributaries are the Sunja on the
right, and tlie Tcherekii, the Baksan, and the Malka, in its upper
course, on the left. The population of the government in 1884
was 614fip0; of 606,500 inhabitants returned in 1883, 238,230
were Little and Great Russians, 1230 Georgians, 18,500 Armenians,
4300 Germans, 2570 Poles, 4780 Jews, 23,630 Ossets, 194,480
Tchetchens and Ingushis. 72,160 Kabardians, 9130 mountaineers of
the Avarian stem, 25,360 Kumyks, 1770 Tatars, 6270 Nogais^ 2470
Kalmucks, and 1620 Persians. Out of these 239,500 were reckoned
as belonging to the Greek Orthodox Church, 336,460 were Mussul-
mans. 17,730 Gregorian Aruieuians, and the remainder Protestants,
Catholics, and Jews. Owing to the great fertility of the soil in the
well-water^ districts, agriculture is the chief occupation. In 1882
the crops, although below the average, yielded 967,000 quarters of
coru, 268,000 bushels of potatoes, 6,750,000 gallons of wine, and
tobacco to the value of £18,000. Cattle breeding is extensively
carried on in the steppes, and there were in the same year 118,630
horses, 582.800 cattle, and 1,226,400 sheep , murrains, however, are
frequent, and cause great loss. Manufactures occupy only 3371 per-
fion.^, .Tnd their yearly production )iardly reaches £300,000 in value.
Pptty trades are rapidly spreading in the villages. Trade suffers
from want of good roads. The railway from Russia to the Caucasus
hasnot yet (1887) got beyond Vtadikavk.az. The military and other
rhiel roads have an .iggregate of only 1300 milet The exports are
limited to corn, wine, cattle, and some raw produce
TTie government is divided into six districts, the chief toivns of
wliirh. with their populations in 1883, were Vladikavkaz (32,340),
the C3pit.il, Georgievsk (4250), Groznyi (6280), Kizlyar (8780). Moz-
Hok (8380), and Pyaturorsk (11.120).
TERENCE. P. Terentius Afer (185?-150 B.C.) holds a
unique position among Roman writers. No writer in any
literature has gained so great a reputation who has con-
tented himself with SO limited a function. He lays no
claim to the position of an original artust painting from
life or commenting on the results of his own observation.
His art has no relation to his own time or to the country
in which he lived. The chief sotirce of mterest in the
fragmentary remains of Nsevius, Ennius, Pacuvius, Accina,
and Lucilius is their relation to the national and moral
spirit of the age in which they were written. Plautua,
though, like Terence, hd takes the first sketch of his plots,
scenes, and characters from the Attic stage, is yet a true
representative of his time, a genuine Italian, writing before
the genius of Italy had learned the restramts of Greek art.
The whole aim of Terence was to present a faithful copy
of the life, manners, modes of thought and expression
which had been drawn from reality a century before his
time by the writers of the New Comedy of Athens. The
nearest parallel to his literary position may be found ia
the aim which Virgil puts before himself in his Bucolics.
He does not seek in that poem to draw Italian peasants
from the life, but to bring back the shepherds of Theo-
critus on Italian scenes. Yet the result obtained by
Virgil is different. The charm of his pastorals is the
Italian sentiment which pervades them. His shepherds
are not the shepherds of Theocritus, nor are they in any
sense true to life. The extraordinary result obtained by
Terence is that, while he has left no trace in any of his
comedies of one sketching from the life by which he was
surrounded, there is perhaps no more truthful, natural,
and delicate delineator of human nature, in its ordinary
and more level moods, within the whole range of classical
literature. His permanent position in literature is due,
no doubt, to the art and genius of Menander, whose crea-
tions he has perpetuated, as a fine engraver may perpetuate
the spirit of a great painter whose works have perished.
But no mere copyist or verbal translator could have
attained that result. Though without claims to creative
originality, Terence must have had not only critical genius,
to enable him fully to appreciate and identify himself
with his originals, but artistic genius of a high and pure
type. The importance of his position in Roman litera-
ture consists in this, that he was the first writer whcf set
before himself a high ideal of artistic perfection, find was
the first to realize that perfection in style, form, and con-
sistency of conception and execution. Living in the in-
terval between Ennius and Lucilius, whose original force
and genius survive only in rude and inartistic fragments,
he produced six plays, which have not only reached our
time in the form in which they were given to the world,
but have been read in the most critical and exacting
literary epochs, and still may be read without any feeling
of the need of making allowance for the rudeness of f
new and undeveloped art.
WhUe his great gift to Roman literature is that he firsi
made it artistic, that be imparted to " rude Latium " the
sense of elegance, consistency, and moderation, his gift to
the world is that through him it possesses a living image
of the Greek society in the 3d century B.C., presented in
the purest Latin idiom. Vet Terence had no afllimty by
birth either with the Greek race or with the people of
Latium. He was more distinctly a foreigner than any of
the great classical writers of Rome. He lived at the
meeting-point of three distinct civilizations, — the mature,
or rather decaying, civilization of Greece, of which Athens
was still the centre ; that of Carthage, which was so soon tc
pass away and leave scarcely any vestige of itself ; and the
nascent civilization of Italy, in which all other modes were
soon to be absorbed. Terence was by birth a Pboeniciaay
TERENCE
187
and was tlius perhaps a fitter medium of connexion between
the genius of Greece and that of Italy than if he had been
a pure Greek or a pure Italiaji , just as in modern times
the Jewish type of genius is sometimes found more detached
from national peculiarities, and thus more capable of repro-
ducing a cosmopolitan type of character than the genius of
men belonging to the other races of Europe.
Our knowledge of the life of Terence is derived chiefly
from a fragment of the lost work of Suetonius, Df Virvs
lUxulnhus. preserved in the commentary of Donatus.
Oontirmation of some of the statements contained in the
Life 13 obtained from later writers and speakers, and also
from the prologues to the different plays, which at the
same time throw light on the literary and personal rela-
tions of the poet. These prologues were among the
original sources of Suetonius ; but he quotes or" refers to
the works of various grammarians and antiquarians —
Porcius Licinus, Volcatius Sedigitus, Santra, Nepos, Fene-
Stella, Q. Cosconius — as his authorities. The first two
lived within a generation or two of the death of Terence,
and the first of them shows a distinct animus against him
and his patrons. But, notwithstanding the abundance of
authorities, there is uncertainty as to both the date of his
birth and the place and manner of his death. The doubt
as to the former arises from the discrepancy of the MSS.
His last play, the Adtlpkt, was exhibited in 160 B.C.
Shortly after its production he went to Greece, bemg
then, according to the best MSS., m his twenty- fifth
("nondum quinlum atque vicesimuin egressus ' anuum "),
according to inferior MSS., in his thirty-tifth year. This
uncertainty is increased by a discrepancy between the
authorities quoted by Suetonius. Cornelius Nepos is
quoted for the statement that he was about the same
age as Scipio (born 185 B.C.) and Laslius, while Fenestella,
an antiquarian of the later Augustan period, represented
him as older. As the authority of the MSS. coincides
with that of the older record, the year 185 b.c. may be
taken as the most probable date of his b:rth. In the
case of an author drawing originally from life, it might
seem improbable that he should have written six comedies,
so true in their apprehension and delineation of various
phases of human nature, between the ages of nineteen and
twenty-five. But the case of an imitative artist, reproduc-
ing impressions derived from literature, is different ; aAd
the circumstances of Terence's origin and early life may
well have developed in him a precocity of talent. His
acknowledged intimacy with Scipio and Lslius and the
general belief that they assisted him in the composition of
his plays are more in accordance with the statement that
he was about their own age than that he was ten years
older. Terence, accordingly, more even than Catullus,
Tibullus, or Lucan, is to be ranked among those poets
who are the "inheritors of unfulfilled renown." He is
said to have been born at Carthage, brought to Rome as
a slave, and carefully educated in the house of _M- Teren-
tius Lucanus, by whom he was soon emancipated. A
difficulty wa-s felt in ancient times as to how he originally
became a slave, as there was no war between Rome and
Carthage between the Second and Third Punic Wars, and
no commercial relations between Africa and Italy till after
the destruction of Carthage. But there was no doubt as
to his Phoenician origin. He was admitted into the
intimacy of young men of the best families, such as Scipio,
Lselius, and Farms Philus, and he enjoyed the favour of
older men of literary distinction and otficial position, such
as C. Sulpicius Gallus, Q. Fabms Labeo, and M. Popillius.
He is said to have owed the favour of the great as much to
his personal gift? and graces as to his literary distinction ;
Kitsehl reads ingressus, which would makt hioj a year younger.
■ and in one of his prologues he declares it to be his ambi>
tion, while not offending the many, to please the " bom."
Terence's earliest play was the Andria, exhibited ia
166 B.C., when the poet could have been only about the
age of nineteen. A pretty, but probably apocrj'phal, story
is told of his having read the play, before its exhibition,
to Caecilius (who, after the death of Plautus, ranked as
the foremost comic poet), and of the generous admiration
of it manifested by Cfecilius. A similar instance of the
recognition of rising genius by -a poet whose own day was
past 13 found in the account given of the visit of Accius,
on his journey to Asia, to the veteran Pacuvius. The
next play exhibited by Terence was the Hecyra, first pro-
duced in 165, but withdrawn in consequence of the bad
reception which it met with, and afterwards reproduced in
160. The Heauton-limoroumenos appeared in 163, the
Eunuekus and Phormrn in 161, and the Adelphi m 160 at
the funeral games of L. .-Emilius Pauius.
After bringing out these plays Terence sailed for Greece,
either to escape from the suspicion of publishing the works
of others as his own, or from the desire to obtain a more
intimate knowledge of that Greek life which had hitherto
been known to him only in literature, and which it was
his professed aim to reproduce in his comedies. The
latter is the more probable motive, and we recognize'in.
this the first instance of that impulse to visit the scenes
familiar to them through literature which afterwards acted
on many of the great ^witers of Rome. From this voyage
to Greece Terence never returned. According to one account
he was lost at sea, according to another he died at Stym-
phalus in Arcadia, and according to a third at Leucadia,
from grief at the loss by shipwreck of his baggage, con-
taining a number of new plays which he had translated
from Menander. The old grammarian quoted by Suetonius
states that he was ruined in fortune through his intimacy
with his noble friends. Another account speaks of him
as having left behind him property consisting of gardens,
to the extent of twenty acres, close to the Appian Way.
It is further stated that his daughter was so well pro-
vided for that she married a Roman knight.
The tone of the prologues to Terence's plays is for the
most part apologetic, and indicates a great sensitiveness to
criticism. He constantly speaks of the malevolence and de-
traction of an older poet, whose name is said to have been
Luscius Lavinius or Lanuvinus. The chief charge which
his detractor brings against him is that of conlamvmtio,
the combining in one play of scenes out of different Greek
plays. Terence justifies Lis practice by that of the older
poets, Naivius, Plautus, Ennius, w-hose careless freedom
he follows m preference to the "obscura diligentH" of his
detractor. He recriminates upon his adversary as one
who, by his literal adherence to his original, had turned
good Greek plays into bad Latin ones. He justifies him-
self from the charge of plagiarizing from Plautus and
Naevius. In another prologue he contrasts his own treat-
ment of his subjects with the sensational extravagance of
others. He meets the charge of receiving assistance in
the composition of his plays by claimmg, as a great honour,
the favour which he enjoyed with those who were th«
favourites of the Roman people.
We learn from these prologues that the best Roman
literature was ceasing to be popular, and had come to rely
on the patronage of the great. A consequence of this
change of circumstances was that comedy was no longer
national in character and sentiment, but had become inu-
tative and artistic. The life which Terence represents is
that of a well-to-do-citizen class whose interests are com-
monplace, but whose modes of thought and speech are
refined, humane, and intelligent. His characters are finely
delineated and disci-'iuiuated rather than bo'dly conceived.
188
T E R — T E R
(La they aie in I'lautus Delicate irony and pointed epi- I
gram take the place of broad humoar. Love, in the form
of pathetic seatiment rather than of irregular passion, is
the chief motive of his pieces. His great characteristics
ire humanity and urbanity, and to this may be attributed
the attraction which he had for the two chief representa-
tives of these qualities in Roman literature, — Cicero and
Horace. It was through the comedies of Terence that the
finer influences of the Epicurean philosophy— the friendli-
aess, the tolerance, the coDsideration for the feelings of
Others, inferiors as well as ei.iuals, inculcated by that
philosophy — entered into Roman life and literature. The
iissolving influence of that school on the severer personal
morality of the older Roman republic also entered into
Joman life through the same, medium. But it was a
[real gain to the strong but rude Roman character to
earn, as it could from every line of Terence, lessons not
inly of courtesy and social amenity but of genuine Bym-
jathy and consideration.
^Terence's pre-eaiiueoce in art was recognized by the critics of the
lugustan a-^e :
" Vincero Cfficilius gravitate, Tercntlus arte.
the art of his comedies cousists in tbe clearness and simplicity with
ffhich tlie situation is presented and developed, and in the consiat-
incy and moderation with wiiich his various characters play their
part. But his great attraction to both ancient and modern writers
aas been the purity and charm of his style, whether employed in
narrative or dialogue. This charm he derived from hifl familiarity
jvith the purest Latin idiom, as "it was habitually used in the
:otimate intercourse of the best Roman families, and also with the
purest Attic idiom, as it had been written and spoken a century
before his own time. The fine Attic flavour is more perceptible in
his Latin than iu the Greek of his contemporaries. He makes no
claim to the creative exuberance of Plautus, but he is entirely free
from his extravagance and mannerisms. The superiority of his
»tyle over that of Lucilius, who wrote his satires a generation later,
is almost immeasurable. The best judges aud the greatest masters
if style in the best period of Komau literature were bis chief admirers
Id ancient times. Cicero frequently reproduces his expressions,
tpplies passages in his phys to his own circutustances, and refers
to uis personages as typical representations of character.^ Julius
Cdesar characterizes him as " puri sermonis amator." Horace, so
depreciatory iu general of the older literature, shows his apprecia-
tion of Terence by the frequent reproduction in his Satires aud in
his Odes of liis language and his philosophy of life. Quintiliau
ipplies t/i his writings the epithet "elegantissima," and in that
connexion refers to the belief that they were the work of Scipio
Africanus. His works were studied and learned by heart by the
great Latin writers of the Renaissance, such as Erasmus and Me-
lanchthon ; and Casaubon, in his anxiety that his son should write
I pure Latin style, inculcates on him the constant study of Terence.
Uoutaigue applies to him the phrase of Horace :
" Liquidus puroque similliraus amni.*
He speaks of "his fine expression, elegancy, and quaintness," and
kdds, " he does so possess the soul with his graces that we forget
those of his fable."' It is among the French, the great masters of
the prose of refined conversation, that his merits have been most
Appreciated in modern times. Sainte-Beuve.in his Nomxay.x Lundis,
devotes to him two papei-s of delicato and admiring criticism. He
quotes Fenelon and Addison, "deu\ esprits polls et doux, de la
meme famille litteraire," as expressing their admiration for the
inimitable beauty and naturalness of one of his scenes. Fenelon is
said to have preferred him even to Molifere. S.iiiitc*Beuve calls
Terence the bond of union between Rojian urbanity au'l the Atticism
of the Creeks, and adds that it was in the 17tli century, when
French literature was most t'uly Attic, that he was most apprcci-
lited. M. Joubert is quoted' as appljing tohim the words "Le miel
'tttique est sur ses levres ; on iroirait aisemeut qu'il naquit sur Ic
mont Hymette. "
The most famous edition of Terence Is tJiat of Ucntley. puMislied in 1T2G,
More recent editions are those of Parry, lo the Bibhotheca C'/nssioi, and of \V
JWaijner. The text lias heen edited by A. Fllclteisen in the Teubner Series of
tlnssics. A number of editions of the separate plays have l^en published
rcfflmtly ttoth in Enylaitd and iu Germany. <W. Y. S.)
TERESA, St. See Theuesa, St.
TERLIZZI, a town of Italy, iu the province of Bari,
itid 20'taile3 west from that town, stands in the midst of
•(.^fcrlile plain. It has a castle which at one time was
Ir 1 '
• See £p. ad Fam., i. 9, 19, and Phil., ii. 15.
',^asflyJ of MinUairf-ne (trans, by Ch. Cotton), ehap. livii,
< By I'. NftTtitp. iu Li's Jlixlrrir^ de la LHiiralirre lyiiinr
very fitrong and occasionally resorted to by the einpp.ro-
Frederick II. and afterwards by the Atagonese sovereigns.
The wsills and towers of the town still remain, but the
fosse has been turned into boulevards. Terlizzi has a
considerable trade, chiefly in the wine and fruii; of the
district. The population of the town in iS81 wa.s 20,442
(commune, 20,592).
TERM (from the Latin tennin'us) in English law is used
iu two senses, the idea common to both being that of n.
limited aud certain period of time.-
(1) It denotes (or rather did denote) a fixed time during
which the courts are open for legal proceedings. Terms
in this sense afTected only what tised to be called the
superior courts, — that is, the Queen's Benth, Common Pleas,
and Exchequer. They were originally the leisure seasons
of the year which were not occupied by great feasts or fasts
of the church or by agriculture. Their origin is no doubt
to be traced back to the legislation of the early Christian
emperors, the principle being adopted in England through
the influence of ecclesiastical judges, and still surviving in
the universities and Inns of Court. Terms were regulated
by many Acts of parliament, tbe effect of which was to
confine to a comparatively short period the time dtu-ing
which the courts could sit in banco, — that is, for the decision
of questions of law as distinguished from the decision of
questions of fact. There were four terms, Hilary, liaSter,
Trinity, and Michaelmas, the average duration of each
being about three weeks. All 'legislation on thu subject
previous to 1873 is now merely of historical interest, for
by the Judicature Act of that year the division of tlie year
into terms was abolished so far as related to the adminis-
tration of justice.
(2) It denotes the time during which an interest in ac
estate for life or for years is enjoyed, also the interest it-
self, because such an interest must determine at a definite
time. If the interest be for life, it is an estate of freehold ;
if for years; only a personal interest in real estate, and so
personalty, even though the length of the term — for in-
stance, 1000 years — may far exceed in duration any iiossible
life estate. A term of.years is of two kinds, — the first that
created by an ordinary lease reservmg a rent, as of a house
or a building lease ; the second that created by a settlement
or a will, mually without rent reserved, for the purpose of
securing payiiient of money, such as portions to younger
children, by the oivner of the land. Both kinds have been
considerably affected by recent legislation. For instance,
the Conveyancing Act, 1881, enables a mortgagor or mort-
gagee in possession to make certain leases. Before 1845
jjrovision was always made in conveyances for keeping on
foot a term to attend the inheritance, as it was called, — that
is, for assigning the remainder of a term Jo trustees for the
protection of the owner of the property a^iinst rent-charges
or other incumbrances created subsequently to the term;
although the term had been satisfied, — that is, the purpose
for which the term had been created had been fuUilledl
By 8 and 9 Vict. c. 1 1 2 the assignment of satisfied terms
was rendered unnecessary. The Convey.tncing Acts, 18S1
and 1882, give power to enlarge the unexpired residue of
a long term in certain cases into the fee simple.
In Scotland terms are the days at which rent or interest is par
able. They are cither legal or conventional : tlic legal are Whit-
Sunday and Martinmas ; the conventional are fixed by agreement
between the parties. A recent Act (-H and Ji Viet. c. ZV) makes
uniforin the law as to removal terms in bnighs. Terms as times ol
court sittings were defined by 6 Anne c. 53, n Inch fixed four terms —
Martinmas, Candlemas, Whitsuntide, and Lammas — for the now
obsolete Couit of Eicliequer. By 19 aud 20 Vict c. .Mi. s. 2C. the
winter and summer sittings of the Court of -Sessiou are lobe held to
correspond with the Exchequer terms.
TERMINI, or Termi.ni I.merese {Thermx J/imereiises]
a town on the north coast of Sicily, at the mouth of 8
river of th". snmi< "ome, in the provini'e of Palermo, and
T E R — T E R
189
23 miles east-south-east of that town. None of its modern
buildings are of any special interest ; in the Piano de San
Giovanni above the town the substructure of a Roman
rtl'a has been excavated, and there are also traces of an
amphitheatre. Termini is one of the busiest provincial
towns of Sicily , the surrounding district being exceed-
ingly fertile and the harbour good, there is a considerable
export trade in grain, fruit, tartar, and other products.
The macaroni of Termini is in high repute. The tunny
and sariline fisheries are extensive, and there is a school
of navigation. The warm saline springs (110* Fahr.),
sung by Pindar, are still largely resorted to, there being
a well-appointed bath establishment, founded by Ferdi-
nand I. The population of the town in 1881 was 23,370,
with iu suburbs 22,733 (commune, 23,148).
For the ancieDt hUtory of TcrmiDi see Himeba. The castle of
Tenumi, which Robert of Naples -besieged la vam in 1338, was
JestToved in 1860.
TERMITES. See Ant, vol. ii. p. 99
TERMONDE. See Dendebmo.vde.
TERN (Norsk Ta:r7u, Tmne, or Tende ; Swedish T&ma;
Dutch Stem^). the name now applied generally to a group
of sea-birds, the SUminee of modern ornithology, but,
according to Selby, properly belonging, at least in the Fame
Islands, to the species known by the book-name of Sand-
wich Tern, all the others being those called Sea-Swallows
— a 'name still most commonly given to the whole group
throughout Britain from their long wings, forked tail,
ind marine habit In Willughby's OmitAclogia (1676),
however, the word Tern is used for more than one species,
ind, though it does not appear in the older English dic-
donaries, it may well have been from early times as general
1 name as it is now.
Setting a5ide those which are t>nt occaaioDai vie'itors to the British
IsUods, six species of Terns may be regarded as indigeDous, though
>f them one has ceased from ordinarily breeding m the United
Ungdom, while a second has become so rare and regularly appears
J) so few places that meotioo of them must for prudence sake be
iToided, This last is the beautifuJ Eoseato Tern, SUma dougaili ;
ihe other is the Black Tern, Bydrochciidon ni^ra, belonging to a
renos in which the toes are only half-webbed, of small size and
aark leaden-grey plamage. It is without doubt the Sterna of Turner,
ind in former days was abundant ii many parts of the fen country,*
to say nothing of other districts. Though nearly all :ts ancient
tbodes have been drained, and for its purposes sterilized these many
^ears past, not a spring comes but it shows itself in small companies
in the eastern counties of England, evidently seeking a breeding-
place. All around the coast the diininution in the numbers of the
■eraaining species of Terns within the last 50 years is no less de-
plorable than demonstrable.
The Sandwich Tern, S. mndtncenais or 8. carUiaea — named from
the place of its discovery, though it has long since ceased to inhabit
that neighbourhood — is the largest of the British species, eqtLalling
in size the smaller Gulls and having a dark .coloured bill tipped
rith yellow, and dark legs. Through persecution it has been ex-
terminated in all its sonthero hannts, and is become much scarcer
in those to which it still resorts. It was, however, never bo abundant
ts its smaller congeners, the so-called Common and the Arctic Tern,
—two species that are so nearly alike as to be beyond discrimina-
tion on the wing by an ordinary observer, and even in the band
require a somewhat close examination ' The former of these has
* "Starn" was used in Norfolk in the 19th century as a name far
the bird commonly known as the Black Tem, thus confirming Turner,
who, in 1544, describes what seems to have been the same species
as "nostrati Imgua sterna appellate." In at least one instance the
word has been confounded with one of the old forms of the modem
fiTiLBLmo (vol xxii- p. 457). To Turner's name, repeated by Oesner
and other authors, we owe the introduction by Linnsus of Stenuz into
scientific nomenclature. ' * Ekstem " is another Dutch form of the word.
' It was known there as Carr-Swollow, Carr-Crow (ccnupted into
" Scarecrow "), and Blue Dar {ju. =Daw ?).
' Linnsua's diagnosis of his SUma hirundo points to his having had
w ' ' Arctic " Tem before him ; but it is certain that he did not sus-
pect that specific appellation (already used by other writers for the
"Common " Tem) to cover a second species. Some modem adlhoritiea
disregard his name as being insufficiently defii^ite, and much Is to be
4aid for this view of the case. Undoubtedly * ' kirurtdo " has now been
ased^ indiscriminately for one species or the other as to cause con-
fusion, which is perhaps best avoided by adopting the epithets of Nau-
the more southern range, and oi^en affects inland situations, while
the latter, though by no means limited to the Arctic circle, is
widely distributed over the north and mostly resorts to the sea-
coast Yet there are localities where, as on the Fame Islands, both
meet and breed, without occupying stations apart The minute
diagnosis of these two species cannot be briefly given. It must
sufnce here to state that the most certain difference, as it is the
most easily recognizable, is to be found in the tarsus, which in the
Arctic Tern is a quarter of an inch shorter than in its kmsman.
The remaining native species is the Lesser Tern, 5, mmuUi, one of
the smallest of the genus and readily to be distinguished by its per
manently white forehead. All the species already mentioned,
except tne Black Tem. have much the same general coloration —
the adults in summer plumage wearing a black cap and having
the upper parts of the body and wings of a more or less pale
grey, while they are mostly lighter beneath. They generally breed
in association, often in the closest proximity — their nests, contain-
ing 3 eggs at most, being made on the shingle or among herbage.
The young are hatched clothed in variegated down, and remain in
the nest for some time. At this season the parents are almost
regardless of human presence and expose themselves freely.
At least half-a-dozen other' species have been recorded as occurring
m British waters, and among them the Caspian Tem, S. caspia,
which is one of the largest of the genus and of wide distribution,
thoi^h not breeding nearer to the shores of England than on Sylt
and its neighbouring islands, which still afford lodging for a few
pairs. Another, the Gull-billed Tem, S. anglita, has also been
not unfrequently shot in England. All these species are now re-
cognized, though the contrary was once maintained, as inhabitanti
of North America, and many go much further.
An excellent synopsis of the Sub-family Slemina hai
been given by Mr Howard Saunders in the Zoological
Proceedings (1876, pp. 638-672). He recpgnizes 5 genera,
— Hydrochelidon (with 3 species). Sterna (with 38), Nsnia,
a very aberrant form consisting of but one species, the
Inca Tern, peculiar to the western coast of South America,
and Gygu, composed of 2 species of purely white birds and
restricted to the southern hemisphere ; his fifth genus is
An<nu, to which belong the various species of Noddy (vol.
xvii p. 531). Often confounded with these last are the
two species called in books Sooty Terns (S. /uliginosa
and S. anjestheta), but by sailors "Egg-birds" or "Wide-
awakes" from their cry These crowd at certain seasons
in innumerable multitude to certain islands witbin the
tropics, where they breed, and the wonderful assemblage
at present known as " Wide-awake fair " on the island oi
Ascension has been more or less fully described from verj
ancient times. Dampier in his voyage to New Holland
in 1699 particularly described and figured the Sooty Ten
( Voyages, iii p. 142), discriminating it from the Noddy, froa
which it had not before be^ distinguished, (a. n.)
TERNATE, a small island in the East Indian Archi-
pelago, oflF the west coast of Jilolo (q.v.), in 0° 48' N
lat. and 127° 19' E. long. It is nearly circular in form,
with an area of about 25 square miles, and congisti
almost entirely of a very remarkable volcano (5600 feet)
formed of three superimposed cones. Frequent and de-
structive eruptions have taken place. Cocoa-nuts, sago,
tobacco, cotton, sulphur, and saltpetre axe the chief pra
dnctions of the island. The clove, which had been ex-
tirpated by the early Dutch rulers- to enhance its value
by restricting its cultivation to the Banda Islands, Am-
boyna, &c., is beginning again to be grown, as also js the
nutmeg. The inhabitants are nearly all Mohammedan
Malays. The town of Temate, with a population of about
9000, is the seat of a native sultan and of a Dutch
resident ; the harbour is commanded by a fort. The
residency, which includes a part of the eastern coast of
Celebes (see Cei.£bes), the greater part of Jiloli and
numerous smaller islands, has an area of 26,900 jquan:
miles and a population estimated at about 290,000.
maun (/«u, 1819, pp. 1847, 1848), who, acting on and conflnmlng the
discovery of Nitzscb (who first detected the speciflo difference), ealie^
the southern species ,S. fiuviatilis and the northern S. wacntra,
Temminck's name 5L arctica appliea to the latter a year later has beea
most generally used.for it, notwithstanding.
190
T E R — T E R
TERNI, a town of Italy, in the province of Perugia is
eituated in the fertile valley of the Nera. between two
branches of that river, about 5 miles below the point
where it is joined by the Vehno It has a station, three-
quarters of a mile ol., on the railway line between Rome
and Ancona, 69 miles to the north of the former city and
19 south by west from Spoleto Term is an episcopal
see, and the seat of a sub-prefecture and a chamber of
commerce Its public buildings include the cathedral
(17th century) the church of S Francesco (partly dating
from the 13th century), a gymnasium, and a theatre.
Temi manufactures leather and cloth, and has some trade
ID wine and silk For the traveller its chief interest lies in
Its antiquities (remains of an amphitheatre of the time of
Tiberius, a teinple, a theatre, baths, and numerous inscrip-
tions) and in the proximity of the falls of Vehno (Cascatf
delle Marmore). Alike m volume and in beauty these
take a very high place among European waterfalls ; the
cataract has a total descent of about 650 feet, in three
leaps of 65, 330, and 190 feet respectively They owe their
origin to M'. Curius Dentatus, who in 272 B.C. first opened
an artificial channel by which the greater part of the
Lacus Velinus in the valley below Reate was drained.
The population of the town in 1881 was 9415, with its
suburbs 10,371 (commune, 15,853).
TefDi IS the ancient Intcrainna ("inter amnes"). originally
belonging to Umbna and founded, according to a loc*il tradition, in
the year 672 B.c It early became a flourishing municipium, and
It did not permanently suffer through being portioned out among
his soldiers by Sulla. Its inhabitants had frequent litigations ana
disputes with their neighbours at Reate in connexion with the
regulation of the Velinus, the waters of which are so strongly im-
pregnated with carbonate of lirae that by their deposits they tend
to block up their o\ra channel. The first interference with its
natural course was that of M' Cunus Dentatus already referred to.
In 54 B.c the people of Reate appealed to Cicero to plead their
cause in an arbitration which had been appointed by the Roman
senate to settle disputes about the river, and in connexion with
this he made a personal inspectior. of Lake Velinus and its outlets.
In the time of Tiberius there was a project for regulating the river
and its outlets from the lake, against which the citizens of Inter-
amna and Reate energetically and successfully protested (Tac. ,
Ann.. 1. 79) Similar questions arose as the nver formed fresh
deposits dunng the Middle Ages and dunng the 1.5th and 16th cen-
turies A branch of the Via Flaminia passed from Narnia to Forum
Flaminii, and is given instead of the direct line in the Antonine
and Jerusalem itineraries The emperor Tacitus and his brother
Florianus were probably natives of Interamna, which also has been
claimed as the birthplace of Tacitus the historian, but with less
reason Term was the scene ol the defeat of the Neapolitans by
the French on 27th November 1798
TERPANDER. a Lesbian poet and musician, settled
m Sparta about the end of the Second Messenian War
(668 B.C.) According to some accounts, he was invited
thither by command of the Delphian oracle to compose the
differences which had arisen between different classes m
the state His innovations m music werB considered to
have inaugurated a new era of musical art in Greece ; but
we are very imperfectly informed as to their nature On
the strength of a fragment (No 5 in Bergk), which may
or may not be geniline, — "rejecting the four-toned song, we
will sing to thee new hymns with the seven-voiced lyre," —
Strabo says that he increased the number of strings in the
lyre from four to seven , others take the fragment to mean
that he developed the citharoedic nomos (sung to the accom-
paniment of the cithara or lyre) by makmg the divisions of
the ode seven instead of four We possess six short frag-
ments of poetry in the Dorian dialect bearing the name of
Terpander They are from hymns to the gods Zeus, Apollo,
Apollo and the Muses, the Dioscuri, Ac, and are written
in a slow spondaic movement or in dactyls. They present
no remarkable features and are probably spurious
Bergk, Pocta Lyrm Grmi. lii. (4th ed.)pp 7-12. Leipsic. 1882.
TERRACINA a town of Italy, in tb«^rovince of Rome,
mnd about 60 miles to the south-east of that city, at the
south-east extremity of the Pontine marshes, where the
Monti Lepini (see Italy, vol. xiii. p. 438, and Latiom)
descend into the sea. The ancient town (Volscian Anj^ur,
Roman Tarracina) stood on the white hillside ("imposituiii
saxis late candentibus Anxur "), along the foot of winch,
by the seashore, ran the Via Appia. The modern town
stands mainly on the level ground. The most cons()icuou3
building IS the cathedral, which is believed to occujiy the
site of a temple of Jupiter Anxurus ; it is enriched both
externally and internally with beautiful old columns and
Roman mosaics. Above the town, on the summit of the
cliff, are the remains of a palace of Theodonc (c. 500),
afterwards a mediseval castle The ancient harbour, con-
structed by Antoninus Pius and once very important, is
npw silted up , a new mole affords shelter to coasting
vessels Fishing is carried on, and there is some trade
in the produce of the district. The population of the
town in 1881 was 6294 (commune, 8572).
Anxur finally became Roman in 400 B.C., and a colony wa.**
established there in 329 Its strategic position early gave it mili-
tary importance . and its niea.sant situation and its mineral waters
led many Romans to builu villas and seek seaside quarters there.
TERRA-COTTA ' Strictly speaking this name is Meao
applicable to all objects made of baked clay, from the '"t
rudest brick to the finest piece of pottery, but it usually
has a more limited meaning, to denote fictile objects
which do not come under the head of pottery, such as
statuettes and busts , and ;n its architectural use it
specially implies the finer sorts of decorative clay-work, to
the exclusion of common building bricks In ancient
times, especially among the Greeks and Romans, terra-
cotta was employed for an immense variety of purposes,
from the commonest objects of everyday use to the mo,«t
elaborate and ambitious works of art, such as colossal
statues and groups Though the natural colour and sur-
face of the burnt clay are generally very pleasing m tone
and texture, it seems to have been universally the custom
in classical times to cover the terra-cotta completely with
a thin white coating, which formed an absorbent ground
for the further application of colour For internal work,
except in rare instances, these colours were mixed with a
tempera medium, and applied after the clay had been
fired They were therefore not true ceramic colours , and
pigments of great variety and brilliance could be employed.
as they had not to undergo the severe ordeal of the kiln
For external work, such as that shown in fig 5. only
earth pigments such as ochres and lime were used, and
the colours were fired.
No branch of archaeology has during the last dozen Gren,
years or so developed so rapidly as that of Greek terra
cotta figures on this most fascinating subject an aston-
ishingly large mass of literature has been published in
Germany and France ^ The discovery of this new world
of Greek art began practically in 1873. with the first ex-
cavations m the tombs of Tanagra, a Bceotian town on the
high road from Athens to the north, which brought to
light a number of very beautiful terra-cotta statuettes '
.Subsequent excavations at Corinth. Smyrna, Cyme, Taren
turn, the C!yrenaica. and many other places also yielded a
vast number of terra-cotta figures of various dates and
styles By far the greater number belong to the second
half of the 4th century B.C. but examples of. an earlier
{
and '
■ liefs
■ Ad Italian word meaning literally "baked earth."
' See li.st al the end of the present article.
> See B«U Com. Ivst Arrh.. 1874. p 120 Many thousand tombs
have been opened al Tanagra. partly cut in the rock and partly huiU
of masonry The statuette.^ were either arranged round the body or
packed ID large vases The Lostume of the female hgures m the sa«e
as that described by classical writers at being peculiar to the neigb
bnurmg city of Thebes. The finest of the Tanagra figures are from
8 to 9 inches high.
TERRA-COTTA
191
tcfn
•Uta-
daU) art not wanting, not only ol figures ui the round,
but also of K'liefs, whicti nppuar to have bc«Q largely used
for the tlocoralion of the Uat surfaces of walls and fi lezes.
The ciiriiest of all date from a quite prebistoric poiiod,
and are mostly ^uiall ulol-like figures of the rudest possible
form. Laving an almost. shapeless trunk with stick like
projections for thelimbs, and the breasts and ejes roughly
indicated by rouud dots. They ar« usually decorated with
coarse stripes or cbcqucs in "ochre colours Examples
of these have been found at Hissarlik (Troad), in Cyprus
and other islands, and in the citadel of Tiryns in 1S84S5
by Dr Scbliemana'and Dr Dorpfeld. Later but still very
archaic figures, 2 or 3 inches high, have been exhumed in
many parts of the jEgean Islands ; some of these are stiff
seated figures of deities, — links between Oriental and
Hellenic art, like the statues of the Sacred Way at Bran-
chidse (south of, Miletus). Comparatively few specimens
exist of the best period of Greek art — the 5th century '
A relief in the Louvre (about 18 by 12 inches) with a
pierced background, dating from the first half of the 5th
century, tepresents two female mourners at a sepulchral
stele, — one standing and the other seated , under the foot
of the latter is inscribed AAEKTP. On the other side of
the stele are two youths (the Dioscuri) standing by a horse.
The whole design is simple, but very graceful, and the
modelling is skilfully treated in very low relief. The
colouring — blue, red, white, and dark brown — is well
preserved. This relief was pressed in a mould, and v^'as
intended to be attached to a wall, probably that of a
tomb, as a votive offering to the dead.^
In most cases the terra-cotta figures and reliefs occur
in or close by tombs, but it is only in comparatively rare
instances that the subjects cepresented have any reference
to death. Another large class have been found in the vicinity
of temples, and are probably votive offerings, such as the
small statuettes of horses from the acropolis of Athens, now
in the Louvre. In other cases, as at Halicarnassus, great
quantities of small figures were buried under a temple,
probably to purify the site, as was done in Egypt under
the later dynasties, when many hundred figures of bronze
were sometimes buried under one building. Owing to
the fact that the statuettes found scattered in and round
tombs have frequently their heads broken off, Potticr and
Reinach have suggested that they were brought as offer-
ings to the dead and their heads were broken off by the
mourners at the side of the tomb. Rayet believes that
this practice was a sort of siu-vival of the custom of
sacrificing female and boy slaves at. the tombs of the
dead. In many cases, however, the figures are intact,
and it is probable that many of the tombs were broken
open and rifled long ago, which would explain the muti.
lated and scattered condition of the figures. The tombs
of Tanagra have yielded by far the richest finds of these
figures, the specimens being very remarkable for their
beauty. These exquisite statuettes do not (in most cases)
represent deities or heroic personages, but the homely
everycUy life of the Greeks, treated with great simplicity
and evident realism . they are in plastic art what in
painting would becalfed genre,^ and in their strong human
, ' A good example of a terracotta relief of the first part of the 5th
century B c. is figured id vol ii. p. 352.
* Some very Vicnutifiil fragments of reliefs in terra cotu are pre-
served io the museums of the Louvre, of Copenhagen, and the Kir-
chehano in Rome. These represent on a small scale parts of Phidias's
Panathenaic frieze, wiiich have all the appearance of being works of
the 5th century B.C . but niay'possibly be forgeries or Roman copies ;
•ee Waldstein, An uj Pheidias, Cambridge, 1885.
* In some the most homely sort of genre is represented, — a girl
lAilking a cow, a cook or a barber at his work, &c Even i>ortrait
figures occur, as, for example, a wonderfully lifelike group of a man
»nd his wife in the collection of Mr loniden, recently lent to the
^ "'til Kensington Museum
interest and naturalistic pathos bring us in closer contact
with the life and personalities of the past than any more
ambitious style of art could possibly do. Moreover, they
prove more clearly even than tbo great plastic works in
bronze and marble how deeply a feeling for beauty and
a knowledge of art must have peaetratod the whole mass
of the people. Their immense number shows that they
must have been far from costly, ■svithin the reach of every
one, and certainly not the production of any famous
sculptors. Nevertheless, sketchy as tbey are in treatment
and often faulty in detail, they are in pose, in motive, and
in general effect works of -the highest- beauty, full of the
most inimitable grace, and evidently the production of
men in whom the best qualities of the sciilDt6r were innate
by a sort of natural
birthright. Several
small figures from
Myrina (Mysia) have
the artist's name in-
scribed on them ; but
signatures of this sort
are rare.*
It is impossible to
describe the many
subjectstreated Only
a few examples can
be mentioned. Among
single figures the
most frequent are
those of girls stand-
ing or seated in an
immense variety of
pose, and with plenti-
ful drapery arranged
in countless methods,
showing the great
taste with which a
Greek lady could f'"- ^
dispose the folds of
her ample pallium, whether it hung in graceful loops or
was wound closely round the figure or formed a hood like
veil over the head. In some tLo lady holds a leaf-sbaped_
Subject
and de-
sigM.
Staiuct'.e of ,agu-l and infant Ero5
from Tanagra. /(.St Petersburg )
FlO. 2. — Aphrodite and cupids The pendant hung round the neck"
of Aphrodite is gilt (South Kcnsinglon Museum )
fan, or is looking in a circular mirror, or holds a ball ready)
for the game. Many have a strange broad hat, probablji
o'f straw, which does not fit on the head, but must haW
. i
• See Gaz. des D Arts, x\uii . ISSC, p. 278
192
T E R R A - C 0 T
1 i\.
been fastened by a pin to the hair or veil. One very
beautiful niolive is that of a girl playing with an infant
Erus, who Hies to her for shelter, and is received with
wElcoDie hall tinged with dread. Fig 1 shows a very
lovely ^laiiielte ol this kind, now in the Hermitage Palace.
A favourite subject is taken froffi a game in which one
girl carries her playmate op her back, — a motive which,
though dithcult to treat in sculpture, la managed very
gracefully in terracotta. Other very lovely groups are
Aphro<lito suckling the baby Eros, or with more than one
;upid hovering round her. A very beautiful example (see
6g 2) occurs ui the South Keosingtcn Museum (from the
Ca^lellani sale) It represents a half-nude figure of Aph-
rodite reclining on a couch, with two cupids behind holding
up a veil, which was coloured blue to form a background
lo the creamy white of Aphrodite's body.
Tech- The Tanagra and other figures are all formed of thin
lii'"' pieces of soft clay pressed into a mould, usually formed
o.eibodn. ^j j^Q halves and then stuck together; and they are
made hollow so as not to warp and crack in the firing,
ind have a hole at the back for the escape of moisture
during that process. The head is solid and was formed
in a separate mould, as were also any accessories, such as
fana or mirrors, and arms if they extend away from the
body Repbcas of the same figure are often varied by
having different beads or accessories ; three or four ex-
anSJiles have been found from the same mould. After
the whole was put together it was usually touched up and
finished with modelling tools. The colour was applied
after baking . a coating of creamy white lime or chalk all
over' served as the flesh tint and also as a good ground
for the other colours. The hair of the females is always
of a rich auburn red, such as the Venetians were so fond,
of pamting in the 16th century, blue was touched on
the eyes and cnmson on the lips. Drapery, if not white,
was usually rose-colour or blue, often with a fringe or
bands of gold on the border. Necklaces, earrmgs, and
other ornaments were generally gilt, the gold leaf bglig
applied over a shghtly raised surface of slip, ae on £he
Greek vases. Similar examples have been found m tombs
at Thebes, at Thespife, and round Athens. Some of the
Attica figures are covered, not with the usual non-ceramic
colours, but with a real white ena^
mel, the vitrified surface of which
IS very often shghtly decomposed ,
further coloured decoration was in
some cases added over this enamel.
A.sia A number of places in the west
Minnr of Asia Minor have yielded large
oi'w$' quantities of terracotta figures,
very similar in size and technique
to those of Tanagra, but belong.
ing for the most part to quite a
different school of sculpture. Un-
Lke the Tanagra figures, which are
rather pictorial in style and deal
with (jenre subjects, those from
Smyrna, Cyme, Myrina, and other
^ilaces in Asia Minor are thoroughly
sculpturesque in design, and are fre-
quently miniature reproductions of
large statues or groups (see fig. 3).
Many of them stand on moulded
iiedestals, while the Tanagra figures ^ „ „ , . ^ ,
! V Ai_- 1 v f 1 - Fio. 3. — Copy of a statue of
have only a thm slab of clay as a Aphrodite from Megam.
base. The average size of both (Berlin Mosenm.)
classes is from 6 to 10 inches
Wgh. Very elaborate groups with three or four figures
often occur. Dionysiac and Bacchanal subjects are fre-
quently chosen, or scenes from sacred mythology, such as
the labours ol Heracles.' These also niostiy date from
the 4th century B.C., and the statuettes often appeal
to be copies from sculpture of the school of Praxiteles oi
Soopas. One instance is the fine nude figure of Eros ai
a youth leaning agamst a cippus, holding a bronze arrow
in his hand, in the collection of M. de Branteghem, now
in Rome.'^ The whole of it was gilt, which was frequently
the case with the Asia Mmor statuettes, but rarely so id
those of Tanagra.' A very beautiful figure of a winged
Victory in the same collection (from the Castellaai sale)
presents the same motive as the colossal Victory ol
Samothrace (in the LouvTe) , it supplies the missing right
hand, which in the terra-cotta contains a bunch of roses.
The drapery of this figure ia blue, mottled, or shot with
gold. Other figures, from their heights being arranged in
even gradations, seem to be copies from some large pedi-
mental sculpture. Unfortunately little is yet known of
the various fabriques of these Asia Minor figures, as in
most cases their provenance is very doubtful* The
Lecuyer collection possessed some groups with several
figures forming important compositions. One of these
shows two female mourners at a tomb, and a warrior clad
in full armour with his horse. The most remarkable
group (see fig. 4i i^ that of a soul led by Hermea Psycho-
Pia. 4. — A soul about to enter Charon's bark. (Pnnce Liecbtenatam'i
collection, Vienna ; formerly in the Lecuyer collection. )
pompus to the bark of Charon, who is represented as a
bent aged man. Hermes," a graceful nude figure, gently
urges the shrinking soul — a <iraped female figure — to the
boat, at the brink of the rush-^grown Styx. The whole
scene is imagined with much tender grace and real
pathos, though not highly finistied in its details. One of
the most important terra-cotta figures yet discovered has
recently been brought to England from Smyrna. It is a
very beautiful copy of the Diadumenos of Polycletus,
which in the details of its modelling reproduces some
characteristics of tjie later school of Praxiteles. The fore-
arms and the legs below the knete are lost ; but in breadth
' Fine eiamplea of all these existed in the collection of M. Lecuyer,
which is now dispersed (see Lsnormant, CoU. Lecuyer dc lerre-cuitts,
Paris, 1884, which ia well illustrated with photographs).
' In a few other examples objects of bronie are placed in the hands
of the figures.
• The lovely series, of little figures of dancing cnpids from Tanagra,
some of which are in/the Louvre and others in the South Kensington
Museum, were wlioUy gilt, but the larger statuettes of Tanagra appear
lo have bad gold applied only for special ornaments.
* For many reasons both finders and dealers usually wish to keep
secret where valuable finds are made. In most museums the label*
simply repeat the dealer's account (for want of better information),
so Ibat the statement of VtMpnmiumu moat usually be accepted with
TERR A-C O T T A
193
CyT«Diic
statu
«ttc«
Twco-
UD4
ootu
jewel-
lery
Dm Ul
Greek
•rehiUc
of moJcUiag and graodeor of style this littla figvire,
which was oaly about 14 inches high when perfect, has
ihe effect of a much larger statue, and it is a real master-
piece of Gre«k plastic art.' In the neigjibourhood of
Smyrna and Bphesus a large number of caricature figures
have been esLhumed, some of which are modelled with a
wonderful feeling for humour.' These strange figures
have atteuuated Umbs, large heads, flapping ears, and
goggle eyes- Some play on musical instruments ; others
represent actors , and one in the De Branteghem collec-
tion is a caricature of a discobolus in almost the attitude
of Myron's celebrated statue.
A very different class of statuettes has recently come
to light in the Cyrenajca, on the northern coast of Africa.
Miny of these are nnde female dancers wearing an
elaborate stephanos-like head-dress. They are realistic in
modeUmg and very ungraceful in pose, — a striking con-
trast to the exquisite taste of the Tanagra and most of
the Asia iLuor figures. Recent excavations in the tombs
of Corinth have produced a large number of fine terra-
cottas, ranging in date over a very long period. Another
and artistically very perfect class of figures is being
dug up from among tie tombs of Tarentum. Some of
th^ belong to the finest penod of Greek art, probably
about 400 B.C., and others ore even earlier. Many
are not statuettes, but merely small busts of heroic
style, and of the highest sculpturesque beauty. They
are certainly not portraits, and do not appear to repre-
sent deities. It has been suggested that they are ideal-
ized representations of an(jestor8, whose commemoration,
in some places, formed an important cult ; but their real
meaning must for the present remain uncertain. Many
thousand votive figures and reliefs in clay have been
found within xhe temeni of the temples of the Chthonian
deities at Tarentum and elsewhere. It seems to have
been customary for the priests periodically to clear out
of the temples the broken or too numerous offerings
which were then buried within the enclosure ; whole series
arranged chronologically in groups have been discovered
buried in separate holes.
In addition to statuettes and reliefs, terra-cotta was
used by the Greeks for various minor ornamental pur-
poses. Delicately moulded necklaces and pendants for
ears were stamped out in clay and then thickly covered
with gold leaf ;' this produced a very nch effect at a small
cost ; many fine examples are preserved m the Louvre.
Children's toys, such as miniature horses and chariots, and
dolls with movable limbs of terra-cotta fastened with
wooden pegs, occur in many tombs.
On a larger scale terra-cotta was adapted by the Greeks
to important architectural ornamentation. Many fine
examples have been found at Olympia and among the
ruined temples of Selinus. In some cases the main
cornices of the building were simply blocked out square
in stone, and then covered with moulded plaques of terra-
cotta, carefully fonned to fit on and round the angles of
the block. The large cymatium which forms the upper
member of the cormce is curved upwards, so as to prevent
the rain water from drippmg all along the edge ; and at
intervals it is pierced by ornamental clay pipes, which
project like a medieval gargoyle. In some examples
from Sehnns the cymatium is pierced with a beautiful
open pattern of lotus leaf (see fig. 5). The greatest
care was taken in fitting these applied mouldings where
each plaque joined the next^ and especially in making
them fit closely on to the stone blocks, in which rebates
were cut to receive each plaque. The whole surface of
' See Jcmm. of HeUenie Studies, vol. vL, 18S6, p. 243.
' The British' Museum possesses some fine caricatures of actors
from Can'mo, very skQfuJly modelled and of a peculiar fabrique.
the terra-cotta is covered with elaborate painted orna-
ments of great beauty, in ochre colours applied on a white
ground, as La the case of the statuettes. These beautiful
temple decorations are well illustrated by Dorpfeld and
Fia 6. — Cornice ennchments of painted terra-cotta from Selinus. Tliia
section shows the careful way in which the terra-cotta is fitted on to
the stone ; the colours are red and brown ochre and cream, white.
others in DU Veneendun^ van Ten'o-coiten, Berlin, 1881.
Though no complete examples of terra-cotta stattiary now
exist, it is certain that the Greeks produced it on a large
scale and of the highest class of workmanship. Pliny
{HJT., xxxv. 36) mentions that certain statuea of Hercujea
Mtisagetes and the Nine Muses were "opera figlina,"
executed by the painter Zeuxis. These were brought
from Athens by M. Fulvius NobQior, and placed in the
temple of Hercules Mnst^tes, which adjoined the Porti-
ctis Octaviae in Ae Campus Martins of Rome, Other
and earlier examples of clay stataesi are mentioned by
Pausanias.
Among the Etruscans the use of clay for important sculp- Etruscan,
ture was very frequent, — painted terra-cotta or bronze
almost excluding marble and stone. An important ex-
ample was the clay quadriga on the pediment of the temple
of Capitoline Jupiter, which, according to one legend, was
brought from Veii by Tarquinius Superbus. This existed
till the destruction of the temple by fire in 83 B.C., and
was considered one of the seven precious relics on which
the safety of the Roman state depended. The great
statue of Jupiter in the central cella of this triple temple
was also of terra-cotta, and was said to be the work of an
Etruscan sculptor from Fregense. Vitruvins mentions
"signa fictilia" as being specially Etruscan. Many other
statues in the early temples of Rome were made of the
same material Among the existing specimens of Etruscan
terra-cotta the chief are large sarcophagi, with recumbent
portrait effigies of the deceased on the top, the whole being
of clay, decorated with painting. Fine examples exist in
the Louvre and the British Museum ; a good specimen
from the latter collection is figured in vol viii., plate Vlli.
The Museo Gregoriano in the Vatican possesses some very
beautiful friezes of a later date — about the 4th century
RO, — when native Etruscan art had been replaced by that
of Greece. These friezes are very rich and elaborate, with
heads and scroll foliage in very salient relief. Some of
them have at intervals cleverly moulded heads of satyrs,
painted a brilliant cnmson.'
Another very elaborate application of terra-cotta is shown Magiw
in the numerous large asci, covered with statuettes, which Crwciao;
are found in the tombs of Canosa (Canusium), Gales, and
' The use of this strongly glowing red is almost peculiar to Hellenic
Italy ; the other colours used there were much the same as those of
Greece itself. The same magnificent crimson often occurs on ceriocbose,
moulded into the form of satyrs' heads, which are found in the tomb»
of Magna Grsecia.
194
TERRA-COTTA
many parts of Magna Grsecia. The statuettes are some-
what similar in style and colouring to the Tanagra figures,
and date from about the same period (4th century B.C.),
but are not equal to them as works of art , they are also
usually crowded together in a somewhat awkward manner.'
The British Museum is specially rich in these elaborate
terra-cottas ; few of the colours used appear to be true
ceramic pigments.
Eoaia.i. As in other branches of art. the Romans closely copied
the Greeks in their wide application of terra-cotta for
statues, reliefs, and architectural ornaments. A large num-
ber of beautiful Graeco-Roman reliefs exist, many having
designs evidently copied from earlier Greek sculpture.
Berlin, the Louvre, the British Museum, and many places
in Italy possess fine collections. Friezes with beautiful
reliefs 12 to 18 inches deep often occur, little inferior in
execution to the earlier Greek work. Many subjects of
great interest are represented ■ a very fine plaque in the
Louvre has the scene of Orestes taking refuge at the sacred
omphalos at Delphi, which is represented as a conical stone
about 3 feet high, hung round with ornamental festoons
made of gold.^ . These terra-cottas belong to the early
period of the empire; in the 2d century a.d. they became
much coarser and less Greek in style, like all the sculpture
of that time. A plaque in the Louvre, which represents a
chanot-race in the circus, bears its maker's stamp, L.S.ER.
At the end of the first and in the early part of the 2d cen-
tury A.D. the use of terra-cotta for arcliitectaral adornment
was carried to a high point of perfection in Rome. Many
buildings of this period have
the most elaborate decora-
tion moulded in clay and
fitted together with wonder-
ful neatness. Not only en-
riched cornices and friezes
were made of terra-cotta, but
even Corinthian columns with
their elaborate acanthus capi-
tals. In all cases the whole
surface appears to have been
covered with a thiu coating
of " opus albanum " and then
decorated with colours and
even gold. The best existing
examples in Rome are the
Aniphitheatrum Castrense,
many tombs on the Via La-
tina, and the barracks of the
Vllth cohort of the guards
(myites) in the Trastevere
But few examples exist of
the large Roman terra-cotta
sculpture , the best are some
seated female figures from
tombs, small liie-size, in the
Capitoline museum, — works
of great beauty and very skil-
fully fired without cracks or
warping. The British Mu-
seum alsocontains fine speci- F'o b — IVn^i-cotui suiue of the
mens of terracotta sculpture ""^'^ .^""'^ '" """"^ "-^
, , ■ M (Bntish Mtisenm. I
on a large scale, especially
the torso of a nude male figure (Hercules), some ter-
minal figures of Bacchus, and a beautiful statue of Urania
(see fig. 6).
' A very large a3cu8 from Caunsa id the British Museum la deco-
rated with no less tlKin five statuettes of Homen and Victories, two
large raaiks of Medusa, and six projectiDg fijp.iros of horses.
^ Compare a simdar repr,;sentotion of tlie umpLalos on ft Greek »ast;
Ulostrated by Jahn, Vasciibiidcr, Hamburg, lsu9.
In the 14th and more especially in the 15th century Medi-
terra-cotta was adapted in various parts of Europe to the ^ifai-
most magnificent and elaborate architectural purposes. In
Germany the mark of Brandenburg is specially rich m
terra-cotta work ' The church of St Catherine in the town
of Brandenburg is decorated m the most lavish way with
delicate tracery and elaborate strmg-eourses and cornices,
enriched with tohage, all modelled in clay ; the town-hall
IS another instance of the same use of terra-cotta. At
Tangermiinde, the church of St Stephen and other build-
ings of the beginning of the 1 5th century are wonderful ex-
amples of this method of decoration ; the north door of St
Stephen's especially is a masterpiece of rich and eflTective
moulding. In northern Italy this use of terra-cotta was
earned to an equally high pomt of perfection.' The If»ly.
western fa<jade of the cathedral of Monza is a work of the
most wonderful richness and nunute elaboration, wholly
executed in clay, m the latter part of the I4th century.
The cathedral of Crema, the communal buildings of
Piacenza, and S. Mana delle Grazie m Milan are striking
examples of the extreme splendour of effect that can be
obtamed by terra-cotta work. The Certosa near Pavia
has a most gorgeous specimen of the early part of the
1 6th century , the two cloisters are especially magnificent.
Pa via itself is very rich in terra-cotta decoration, especially
the ducal palace and the churches of S. Francesco and S.
Maria del Carmine. Some delicate work exists among the.
mediaeval buildings of Rome, dating from the 14th and
16th century, as, for example, the rich cornices on the
south aisle of S. Maria m Ara Cteli, c. 1300 ; the front of
S. Cosimato m Trastevere, built c 1490 ; and a once very
magnificent house, near the Via d; Tordinone, which dates
from the 14th century. The most important application of
terra-cotta in mediaeval Italy was to statuary — reliefs, busts,
and even groups of many life-.sized figures — during the
15th and I6tb
centuries. Much
of the Florentine
terra-cotta sculp-
ture of the 15th
century is among
the most beauti-
ful plastic work
the world has
ever seen, espe-
cially that by
Jacopo della
Querela, Dona-
tello, and the
sculptors of the
nextgeneration '•
For life, spirit,
and realistic
truth, combined
with sculptur-
esque breadth,
these pieces are
masterpieces of
invention and manipulation The portrait busts are
perfect models of iconic sculpture (see fig. 7). In some
respects the use of burnt clay for sculpture has great
advantages over that of marble kue soft clay is easily
and rapidly moulded into form while the sculptor t
thought IS fresh in his mind, and thus terra-cottas
often possess a spirit and vigour which can hardly be
reproduced in the laboriously finished marble. These
* See Adler, MitielallerhcM Backstnn-BamDtrlx, Berlin, 1862.
* See GruDor. Terra-cotta Ardaiecinrt of N. Italy, London, 1867.
* The Soaih Keusmgton Museum possesses a very fine collection oC
Florenttne tcrra-cottaa of the best j>enod.
Flo 7 — Portrait bust m terra-cotta : Floieetinf
work of the middle of the 15th century. (South
Kensington Museum. )
T E R — T E R
195
qualities are specially remarkable in the best works of the
Delia Kobbia family (see Robbia). In the 16th century a
more realistic style was introduced, and this was heightened
by the custom of painting the figures in oil colours. Many
very clever groups of this class were produced by Ambrogio
Foppa (Caradosso) for S. Satiro at Milan and by Guido
Mazzoni and Begarelli (1479-1565) for churches in Modena.
These terracotta sculptures are unpleasing in colour and
far too pictorLil in style ; but those of Begarelli were
enthusiastically admiied by Michelangelo.' Much fine
Fraaef. terra-cotta work was produced in Franco during the 16th
century, partly under Italian influence, — many sculptors
(toia northern and central Italy having settled in France,
especially under the patronage of Francis I. In the
same century a similar Italian influence prevailed largely
throughout Spain, and very clever works were produced
there, remarkable for their vivid realism and deceptive
EnsUnd. pictorial style. In England the elaborate use of terra-cotta
did not come into vogue till the early part of the 16th
century, and then only in cercain counties. Essex pos-
sesses the finest examples, such a.s those of the manor bouse
of Layer Marney, built in the reign of Henry VIII The
richly moulded windows and battlements of this house
are very un-English in style, and it seems probable that
all the terra-cotta decorations were made in Holland or
Flanders. A richly decorated terra-cotta tomb with re-
cumbent effigy exists in the church of Layer Marney ; and
in the collegiate church of Wymondham in Norfolk there
are very large and elaborate sedilia with lofty canopied
niches, all of clay, which appear to be of the same date
and fabrique as the Esses examples. Most of the terra-
:otta sculpture in England, such as that by Torrigiano, of
whTch fragments exist in Westr....:ster Abbey, the colossal
' heads of the Cssars at Hampton Court, and the recumbent
efiBgy in the Chapel of the Rolls,^ were the work of Italian
sculptors, mostly from Floience, who were invited to Eng-
land in the reigns of Henry VII. and Henry VIII.
Modern.' Of late years terra-cotta for architectural purposes has
been employed for some very important buildings in
London, such as the natural history museum at South
Kensington, the Albert Hall, and the front of the other
museum in the Exhibition Road. The durability of well-
fired clay, its dense texture, pleasant colour, and smooth
surface make it specially suitable to an atmosphere laden
with acids and soot as is that of London. The surface
resists decomposition, and affords little hold to the minute
particles of carbon. The great improvements which have
been made in the manufacture of terra-cotta will probably
lead to its more extensive use. The great difficulty is to
retain the sharpness of impression given by the mould, and
above all to avoid the uneven shrinkage and warping which
is so liable to take place when it is fired in large pieces.
Any want of truth in the lines of a long cornice becomes
painfully apparent, and each moulded bh ck of a door or
window-jamb must fit accurately on to the next one, or else
the line of moulding becomes broken and irregular. Terra-
cotta is now made of many different colours, a rich red
and a warm ochre or cream colour being the most pleasant
to the eye. In order to avoid defects it is necessary that
the clay should contain a large proportion of powdered
silica, and that the whole mass should be thoroughly homo-
geneous. The method by which these ends are secured is
much the same as that employed in the making of pottery
(see vol. xix. p. 642 sq.).
Collec- The most important public collections are in the Louvre, the
luMw. British Museum, the museums of Berlin and Athens, and a few fine
itpecimens exist in the South Kensington Museum. The splendid
Sabouroff collection is now in the Hermitage Palace at St Peters-
' See Vasari, ed. Le Monnier, xii. 281.
' This interesting building is now threatened with destructloa.
burg. Many museums in Italy— such as those at Florence, Perugia,
Capua, Rome, and other places — contain many examples from
Etrnria and Magna Grxcia. A large number of tho finest of iho
Tanagra figures and the liko arc in private hands; some are illus-
trated in the works mentioned in the following list ; that of Prince
Liechtenstein at Vienna is one of the finest.'
Literaturt.—L^on Heuzcy, "Rechcrches sur les rlgurlncade fcmmcs voilftes,
in Mon. assoc. des itudcs grccijucs, Paris, 1874 ; Id., •■ Rech. sur un groupe d«
Praxilele, ... en terrc cuite," io Gas. d« B-Arts, Sept«mbcr 1875 ; Id , " Rech.
sor les terres cuitcs grecqucs," in Mon. assoc. tU3 ftuil. grtc , 1376; Id., Us
origincs des Urns cuttcs, Pans. 1882; Id., Catalogue rfc5 figurints antiqtits
du Louvre, Paris, 1SS2-S3; Id., "Papposil^ne et le dieu Bcs," in Bull. Cor.
Hell., 1SS4, pp. 161-167; Frohner. Us terres cuitesdAsie-Mnieure, Pans, 1879.81
Id., Cat. dela Coll. Ucuyer, Paris, 1883, and Cat. de la Colt. Darre, Paris, 1878 ;
KclvUle, Gnechu-ht Thonfi(y.ren aus Tanagra, Berlin, lfc78; Id,, Griechiscke
Terracotten mm Berliner Musfum, Berlin, 187S: Id., Die anliken Terracolten won
Pompeii, Stuttgart, ISSO; Rayet, Monum.ents de I'art antique, Paris, 18S4, vol.
ii. pp. 74.90; Id., "Sur une plaque estampie," in Dull. Cor. Hell., 1879 pp.
329.333; Id., Car de (a Coll. Rayet, 18S0; Id,, "Les ngurines de Tanagra
(Lou\Te)," in Gaz. des B.-Arts 1875; Id., " I.'art grec au Trocad^ro," in Gaz. des
B.-Arls, 1878 ; Furtwaengler. la Coll. SabouroJ. Paris, 1882.85, splendidly illns.
trat<?d in colours; Martha, Car. des Jigurines du musee d'Athines, 18S0; Id.,
"Figurines corinthlennes en terre cuite." in Bull. Cor. Hell., 1879, pp 29-42;
Id., "Figurines de Tanagra." ibid., ISSO, pp, 71.75; Pettier, "Terres cuitea
Chypriotes," ibid , 1879, pp. 86.94 ; Pettier and Reinach, " Fouilltsde Mynna,"
itiid., various articles io vols, for 1SS2 S3, Paul Girard, " Nccrt poles de laGrii;e
du ^ord." ibid., 1879, pp. 211-221 ; Max, CoUignon. "Plaque estauipee do
Santorin," ibid., 1881, pp, 436 43S ; Ccsnola, Cyprus, London. 1877. Sclilie.
mann, Troy, Myccnie, and Tiryns ; E, Curtius. Giebelgruppen aus Tanoffra,
Berlin, 1878; Delauney, "Terres cuites de Tanagra," in Hevue ae France, May
and June 1S7S. An account of the first discovery of the Tanagra figures is
given by Otto Lilders in Bull Inst. Cor. Arch., 1874, p. 120 . see also various
articles in Gaz. Archeol , Archdol Zeilung, and A/on. Inst. Arch Rom. (especially
vol, %-!.). For the earlier knnwD terra-cottas, see Panoflta, Terracotten des k.
Muscuriiszu Berlin, 1842; Combe, Terra-cottar in the BritiA Museum, London,
1310 ; and Gerhard, Monumenti figulini di Siciha, Berlin, 1835 Otber works
have been already referred to. Clever but not quite satisfactory copies of
the finest Tanagra and other figures are now made in Berlin and Vienna , they
cost from twenty to tlurtyshiUings each. (J H M)
TERRANOVA, or Terrandova, a seaport town of
Sicily, on a hill at the mouth of the Terranova, in the pro-
vince of Caltanisetta, and 41| miles east-south-east from
Girgcnti. It contains a castle and several large churches,
but has little to interest the traveller. Though the har-
bour is poor, there is a considerable trade in corn, wine,
fruit, sulphur, and soda. Cloth is manufactured to a
small extent. The population of the town in 1881 was
16,440, that of the commune 17,173. In and near Ter-
ranova arc the remains of the ancient Gela (q.v.). The
modern town owes its origin to the emperor Frederick II.
TERRAPIN. See Tortoise.
TERRE HAUTE, a city of the United States, m Harri
son township, Vigo county (of wiich it is the county seat),
in the western part of Indiana It is situated in 39° 27'
N. lat. and 87° 54' W, long,, at a height of 492 feet above
the sea, upon the east bank of the Wabash river, 186 miles
nearly south of Chicago and 73 miles west-south-west of
Indianapolis. The city stands upon level ground, about
60 feet above the ordinary stirface of the river It is
regularly laid out, with wide streets, lined with shade
trees ; its principal buildings are the State normal school
and the Polytechnic Institute Six great railroad lines
pass through Terre Haute, connecting it directly with the
cities of the Mississippi valley. This fact, together with
its proximity to the coal-mines of Clay county, has greatly
promoted its growth as a manufacturing centre. It had
in 1880 a population of 26,042, as against 16,103 in 1870.
TERSTEEGEN, Gerhard (16971769), German reli-
gious writer, was born at Mors in Rhenish Prussia on
25th November 1697. After being educated at the
gymnasium of his native town, he pursued for some years
the calling of a ribbon-maker. In 1728 he withdrew
from all secular pursuits and gave himself entirely to
religious work. His writings include a collection of hymns
(Blumengdrllein, 1729; last edition, Stuttgart, 1868), a
volume of Gebete, and another of Brie/e. He died at
Miihlheim in Rhenish Prussia on 3d April 1769. See
Hymns, vol. xii. p. 588.
TERTIARIES. See Franciscans, vol. ix. p. 700.
^ Very clever forgeries of terra-cotta are being manufactured, and
in many cases real specimens have genuine heads which do not belong
to them. The colouring has frequently been touched up and falsified
while in the dealers' bands. Even the celebrated Camp&ua collection
contained many clever forgeries of terra-cotta reliefs.
196
TERTULLIAN
TERTULLLXN, -nhose full name was Quintds Septim-
Jus Florens Tertulliands, is the earliest and after
Augustine the greatest of the ancient church writers of
the West. Before him the whole Christian literature in
the Latin language consisted of a translation of the Bible,
the Oclofius of Minucius Felix — an apologetic treatise
written in the Ciceronian style for the higlier circles of
society, and with no evident effect for the church as a
wiioie — and a list of the books recognized as canonical
(the so-called Muratorian fragment). Whether Victor the
Roman bishop and Apollonius the Roman senator ever
really made an appearance as Latin authors is quite un-
certain. Tertullian in fact created Christian Latin litera-
ture ; one might almost say that that literature sprang
from him full-grown, alike in form and substance, as
Athene from the head of Zeus.. Cyprian polished the
language that Tertullian had made, sifted the thoughts
he had given out, rounded them off, and turned them into
current coin, but he never ceased to be aware of his depend-
ence on Tertullian, whom ho designated as kut tfo^'ji' his
master (Jer., De Vir. III., 53). Augustine, again, stood on
the shoulders of Tertullian and Cyprian ; and these three
North AfricanB are the fathers of the Western churches.
Tertullian's place in universal history is determined by
(1) his intellectual and spiritual endowments, (2) his moral
force and evangelicaj fervour, (3) the course of his personal
development, (4) the circumstances of the time in the midst
of which he worked.
(1) Tertullian was a man of great originality and genius,
characterized by the deepest pathos, the liveliest fancy,
aTid the most penetrating keenness, and w .as endowed with
ability to appropriate and make use of all the methods of
observation and speculation, and with the readiest wit^
His writings in tone and character are always alike " rich
in thought and destitute of form, passionate and hair-
sjilitting, eloquent and pithy in expression, energetic and
condensed to the point of obscurity." His style has been
characterized with justice as dark and resplendent like
ebony. His eloquence was of the vehement order; but it
wins hearers and readers by the strength of its passion,
the energy of its truth, the pregnancy and elegance of its
ex^jression, just as much as it repels them by its heat mth-
out light,Jts sophistical argumentations, and its elaborate
hair-splittings. Though he is wanting in moderation and
in luminous warmth, his tones are by no means always
harsh ; and aa^n author he ever aspired with longing after
humility and love and patience, though his whole life was
lived in the atmosphere of conflict. Tertullian both as a
man and as a writer had much in common with the apostle
Paul.
(2) In spite of all the contradictions in which he in-
volved himself as a thinker and as a teacher, Tertullian
was a compact ethical personality. What he was he was
with his whole being. Once a Christian, he was deter-
mined to be so with all his soul, and to shake himself
free of all half measures and compromises with the world.
It is not difficult to lay one's finger upon very many
obliquities, self-deceptions, and sophisms in Tertullian in
matters of detail, for he struggled for years to reconcile
things that were in themselves irrecohcilable; yet in each
case the perversities and sophisms were rather the outcome
of peculiarly difficult circumstances in which he stood. It
is easy to convict him of having failed to control the
glowing passion that w;as in him. He is often outrageously
unjust in the substance of what he says, and in manner
hansh to cynicism, scornful to gruesomeness ; biit in no
battle that he fought was he ever actuated by selfish
interests. What he did was really done for the Gospel, :
OS he understood it, with all ^e faculties of his soul. Biit
he understood the Gospel as being primarily an asaur'ed
hope and a holy law, as fear of the Judge who can cast
into hell and as an inflexible rule of faith and of discipline.
Of the glorious liberty of the children of God he had
nothing but a mere presentiment ; he looked for it only in
the world beyond the grave, and under the powei- of the
Gospel he counted ae loss all the world could give. He
W'ell understood the meaning of Christ's saying that He
came not into the world to bring peace, 'but a sword : in
a period when a lax spirit of conformity to the world had
seized the churches he maintained the "vigor evangelicus"
not merely against the Gnostics but against opportunists
and a' worldly-wise clergy. Among all the fathers of the
first three centuries Tertullian has given the most powerful
expression to the terrible earnestness of the Gospel.
(3) The course of Tertullian's personal development
fitted him in an altogether remarkable degree to be a
teacher of the church. Bom at Carthage of good family
— his father was a "centurio consularis" — he received a
first-rate education both in Latin and in Greek. He wa.s
able to speak and write Greek, and gives evidence of
familiarity alike with its prose and with its poetry ; and
his- excellent memory— rthough he himself complains about
it— ^-enabled him always to bring in at the right place aii
appropriate, often brilliant, quotation or some historical
allusion. The old historians, from Herodotus to Tacitus,
were familiar to him, and the accuracy of his historiqal
knowledge is astonishing. He studied with earnest ze^
iter Greek philosophers ; Plato in particular, and the
writings of the Stoics, he had fully at command, and his
treatise Ve Anima shows that he himself was able to in-
vestigate and discuss philosophical problems. From the
philosophers he had been led to thejnedical writers, whose
treatises plainly had a place in his working library. But
no portion of this rich store of miscellaneous knowledge
has left its characteristic impress pn his writings ; this
influence was reserved for his legal training. His father,
whose military spirit reveals itself in the whole bearing
of Tertullian, to whom Christianity w^ above everything
a " militia," had intended him for the law. He studied
in Carthage, probably also in Rome, wheroj according to
Eusebius, he enjoyed the reputation of being one of the
most eminent jurists. This statement derives confirmation
from the Digest, where, references are made to two works,
De Castrensi Peculio and Qiisestionum Libri VIII., of a
Roman jurist named Tertullian, who must have flouriaicd
about 180 A.D. In point of fact the quondam advocate
never disappeared in the Christian presbyter. This was at
once his strength and his weakness : his strength, for as a
professional pleader he had learned how to deal with an ad-
versary according to the rules of the art — to pull to pieces
his theses, to reduce him ad absurdum, and to show the
defects and contradictions of his st'atements, — and was
specially qualified to expose the irregularities in the pro-
ceedings taken by the state against the Christians ; but
it was also his weakness, for it was responsible for his
litigiousness, his often doubtful shifts and artifices, his
sophisms and argumentationes ad hominem, his fallacies and
surprises. At Rome in mature manhood Tertullian became
a Christian, under what circumstances we do not know,
and forthwith he bent himself with all his energy to the
study of Scripture and of Christian literature. Not only
was he master of the contents of the Bible: he also read
carefully the works of Hermas, Justin, Tatian, Miltiades,
Melito, Irenaeus, Proculus, Clement,- as well as .many
Gnostic treatises, the writings of. Martion in particular,
In apologetics his principal master was Justin,' and.^.iD
theology proper and in the controversy with the Gnostics,
Irena:us. As a thinker he v.'as not original, -and even as
a theologian he has produced but few new schemes of
doctrine, except his doctrine of sin. ..His special gift lay
T E R T U L L I A N
197
m the po^er to make what had been traditionally received
iiiipressiv<% to give to it its proper form, and to gain for it
new currency. From Rome Tertullian visited Greece and
lierhaps also Asia Minor ; at any rate we know that he
bod temporary relations with the churches there. He xVas
consequently placed in a position in which he could check
the doctrine and practice of the Roman Church. Thus
equipped with knowledge and e.xperience, he returned to
Cartilage and there laid the foundation of Latin Christian
literature. At first, after his conversion, he wrote Greek,
but by and by Latin almost exclusively. The elements
of this Christian Latin language may be enumerated as
follows : — (i.) it had its origin, not in the literary language
of Rome as developed by Cicero, but in the language of
the people as we find it in Plautus and Terence ; (ii.) it
has an African complexion; (di.) it is strongly influenced
by Greek, particularly through the Latin translation of
the Septuagint and of the New Testament, besides being
sprinkled with a large number of Greek words derived
from the Scriptures or from the Greek liturgies ; (iv.) it
bears the stamp of the Gnostic style and contains abo
some miUtary expressions ; (v.) it owes something to the
original creative power of Tertullian. As for his theology,
its leading factors were — (i.) the teachings of the apolo-
gists; (ii.) the philosophy of the Stoics; (iiL) the rule
of faith, interpreted in an anti-Gnostic sense, as he bad
received it from the Church of Rome ; (iv.) the Soterio-
logical theology of Melito and Irenaus; (v.) the substance
of the utterances of the Montanist prophets (in the closing
decades of his life). This analysis does not disclose, nor
indeed is it possible to discover, what was the determining
element for Tertullian; in fact he was under the dominion
of more than one ruling principle, and he felt himself
bound by several mutually opposing authorities. It was
his desire to unite the enthusiasm of primitive Christ-
ianity with intelligent thought, the original demands of
the Gospel with' every letter of the Scriptures and with
the practice of the Roman Church, the sayings of the
Paraclete with the authority of the bishops, the law of the
churches with the freedom of the inspired, the rigid dia-
cipline of the Montanist with all the utterances of the
New Testament and with the arrangements of a church
seeking to set itself up within the world. At this task
he toiled for years, involved in contradictions which it
took all the finished skill of the jurist to conceal from him
for a time. At last he felt compelled to break off from
the church for which he had lived and fought ; but the
breach could not clear him from the contradictions in
which he found himself entangled. Not only did the great
chasm between the old Christianity, to which his soul
clung, and the Christianity of the Scriptures aa juristically
and philosophically interpreted remain unbridged ; he also
dang fast, in spite of his separation from the Catholic
church, to his position that the church possesses the true
doctrine, that the bishops per suaessionem are the reposi-
tories of the grace of the teaching office, and so forth.
The growing violence of his latest works is to be accounted
for, not only by his burning indignation against the ever-
advancing secularization of the Catholic church, but also
by the incompatibility between the authorities which he
recognized and yet was not able to reconcile. After having
ione battle with heathens, Jews, Marcionites, Gnostics,
Monarchians, and the Catholics, he died an old man,
carrying with him to the grave the last remsuna of primi-
tive Christianity in the West, but at the same time in
conflict with himself.
(4) What has just been said brings out very clearly how
important in their bearing on Tertullian's development
were tte circnmstances of the age in which he laboured.
His activity as a Christian falls between 190 and 220,
a period of very great moment in the history of the CafhoJ
lie church ; for within it the struggle with Gnosticism was
brought to a, victorious close, the New Testament estab-!
liahed it. firm fooling within the churches, the *' apostolic "i
rules which thenceforward regulated all the affairs of the
church were called into existence, and the ecclesiastical
priesthood came to be developed. Within this period also
falls thai evangelical and legal reaction against the political
and secular tendencies of the church which is known as
Moutanisiu. The same Tertullian who had fortified the
Catholic church t^inst Gnosticism was none the less
anxious to protect il from becoming a political organiza-
tion. Being unable lo reconcile incompatibles, he broke
with the chiurch and became the most powerful representar
live of Montanism in the West.
Although TertuUiaii's extant works ^ro both numerous and
copious, our kaowledgo of his life is VC17 va^iie. He cannot hive
been born much later than about 150. His activity .la a jurist is
Rome must fall within the iieriod of Coiumodus ; for there is iu>
indication in his writings that he was in Rome iu the time of
Marcus Aurelius, and many passages seem to preclude the s'jpposi-
tion. The date of his conversion to Christianity is quite nncertain;
there is much in favoui' of the yeajs between 190 and 19i. How
long Jie remained in Rome after bstoming a Christian, whether he
had attained any ofiBce in the church before leaving Rome, what
was the date of his visit to Greece, — on these points also we remain
in ignoranco. It ia certain that he was settled in Carthage in the
socoikI half of 197, the dat« of his writing his Jpologeticus and
(shortly afterwards) his two books Ad Aatimics ; we also know
that he became a presbyter in Carthage and was married. His
recognition of the Montanistic prophecy in Phrygia as a w-ork of
God took place in 202-203, at the time when a newipcrsecution
broke out ■ For the next five years it was his constant endeavour
to seaur&the victory for Montanism within the church ; but in this
he became involved more and more deeply in controversy with the
majority of the church in Carthage and especially with its clergy,
which had the support of the clergy of Rome. As Jerome writes
(De Vir. HI., 63): "Usque ad mcdiam statem presbyter fuit
eccleaise Africans, invidia postea et contumeliis clericorum Komiaja
ecclesite ad Montani dogma delapsus." On his breach with the
Catholic church, probably in 207-208, he became the head of a
small Montanist community in Carthage. In this position he con-
tinued to labour, to write, and to assail the lax Cathohes and their
clergy until at least the time of Bishop Calixtus in the reign of
Elagabalus. The year of his death is uncertain. Jerome («( sup. )
says: " Fertur vixisse usque au decrepitara tetatem." That he
returned at last to the bosom of the Catholic church is a mere
legend, the motive of which is obvicis ; his adherents afier his
death continued to maintain themselves as a small community in
Carthage. Although he had left the church, his earlier writings
continued to be extensively read ; and in the ^th century his
works, along with those of Cyprian, were the principal reading of
Western Christians, until they were euperaeded by those of Jerome,'
Ambraee, Augustine, and Gregory. Jerome has included him in his
catal4^e of Christian "viri iUustrea," but only as a Catholic to
whom reference should be made with caution.'
The works of Tertullian, on the chronology of which a great deal
has been written, and which for the most part do not admit of
being dated with perfect certainty, fall into three classes, — the
apologetic, the polemical theological, and the ascetic. And iu point
of time also three periods can be readily distinguished, the years
202-203 and 207-208 constituting the divisions. Some of the things
he wrote have unfortunately disappeared, — in particular the 3e
SpectaculiSj De Saptismo^ and T^e Virginibus Velandis in Greek ;
his works in Latin on the same Subjects have survived.
I. fVwka dating frrnn bifmre S02£0S.—To this class belong
the Apologeticus (197) and the tv,'o books Ad Xationcs, De Specia-
culit, De Idololalria, De Cultu Ftminarum Libri n., Dc Tcsli-
monio AnimsB (written soon after the Apologeticus\ Ad Hat-iyrtA
(perhaps the earliest of all), De Bap'lis^no BttTtticorum (now lost),
De Baptismo, Dt PemiUrUia, De Oralione (the last three written for
catechumens), De PatitTiiia, Ad Clxorem Libri II. , De Prs^criptitme
Bserelieomm, and Ada. Mardorum (in its first form). The Apolo-
geticus, which in the 3d century was translated into Greek, is the
weightiest work in defence of Christianity of the first two centuries.
Respecting its relation to the Oetavivj of Minucius Felix much has
been written ; to the present writer it seems unquestionable that
Tertullian's work was the later. Of great moment also is the De
Praeseriplitync Haereticorum, in which the jurist is more clearly
heard thaa ^s^hristian. The De Spectaculis and De Idololairia
show that Tertullian was already in a certain sense a Montanist
' Compare also the judgment of Hilary and of Vincent of Lerins^
Comm^mit., Ii.
198
T E R — T E S
hefore lie formally went over to that creed . on the '^tber hand. |
bis De Pctn-itenlia proves that his earlier views on chur^jh discipline
were much more tolerant than his later To learn something of
his Christian temper we must read the De Oratwm and the De
Palientia The De Baptxsmo is of special Interest from the archaeo-
logical pomt of view.
U. IVorks wnlUfn between S02-20S and 207-208. ~^De Vxrgrmhus
Velandis, De Corona Militis, De Fuga in Per.teculioru, De ExkoTia-
lione Castitalis, Sc&rptace^adv. Qnoslicos (?), Jdversus Hermogenem,
Ik Censu Antmm adv, BerTnog'mem (lost). Adx Valentinianos, Adv.
A}i€lUiacos (lost), Ik Paradiso (lost). De FcUo (lost), De Anima, De
Carne Chnstx, De Resurrectione Camis, and De Spe Fidehum (lost),
were all written after Tertullian had recognized the prophetic claims
of the Montanists, but before be had left the church
III IVorks laUr than 201-208 —To this penod belong the 6ve
*»ook8 Adv. Afaraonem^ his main anti-Gnostic work (in the third
form— the first of the 6ve was written in 207-208), Ad Scapulam (a
memorial to the governor, written soon after 211). D^ Pallio
(possibly this ought to be classed among the earliest writings), Adv.
Praxean (his principal work against the Monarchians), and Adv.
Judxos The latest extant works of Tertullian (all after 217) are
his controversial writings against the laxity of the Catholics, full of
the bitterest attacks, especially upon Cahxtus. the bishop of Rome ;
these are Dc Monogaima. De Jejunio^ De Pudtcitia, and De Ecstasi
Lzbn VII (lost). The arguments agains* the genuineness of some
of the above vnitiugs do not seem to the present writer to have
weight It 13 uncertain whether Tertullian was the author of the
Acta Perpetuss et Felialalis.
LMeraiurf,~& thoroughly adequate *'dition of the works of Tertullian and a
full account of his fortunes as 3 vn-it«r ire still desiderata ; the best edition at
present is that ot Oehler (3 vols., Leipsic. 1853). The fdilio princes is by
Beatus Rhenauus (Basel. 1521), otb'^rs have appeared bv Gelenflis (1550).
r3mcljus(1579). D* ia Barre(15S0). Rigaltius (1634). SeniJer(1770-71). Oberthur
<I790). Leopold (I8:i9 sg.). and Mtgne (1814). The VieDoa Academy is about to
publish an edition by Reiflerscheid There are German translations by Besnard
(1837) and Kellner (1882). and an EnG:li3h translation appears in Clark's Ante-
Nicene Theological Library Sepanite treatises of Tertullian have often been
edited.— the Apologelicvs by Havercarap(1718), Oehler (1849). and Kayser(I865) :
ttie Ad Natwntsby Godofredus (16il,'0 ; the DeSpectacuiis by Klussmann (1877);
the De Tfsumnnio Amms by Liodnf r (1862) ; the Df Pallio by Salmasius (1856);
other minor wntings by Hurter. Ac The testimonies of the church fathers
(the most importa.nt being those of Cyprian, Euaebiua, Jerome, and Vincent of
L<?rins)are fiartly brought together in the editions.
The older .studies on Tertullian by Le Nourry, Tillcmont, Dupin, Allix, CJave,
C<'illici, Mosheim. Centner, Semler. Noesselt, are to some extent reproduced
10 vol III. of Oehler s edition Among the more modem contributions to the
subject may be mentioned th( se of Neander {Antignosticus • Gcisl dcs Tertvl-
tiniis, Berlin, 1825). Bohnnger (Dif Kirche Cknsti in Biograpkien, vol. in., 2d
€d.. 1875). Mobler iPalTologie, vol. i., 1840. pp. 701-789), Kaye {EccUs. Hist, of the
td and 9d Cftiurus. illusJrnted from tht uyritings of lertullian, 3d ed., 1846),
Cocoen (Comment, de Tf'uU.. Utrecht, 1825), Hesselberg {Terfultian's Lehre,
pt t,. Dorpat, 1848). Ebcrt iOe&cfi d. Chnsti. Lit., 1874). Freppel (TerluUien,
Pans. 1804). Qaock (Tmuilwns Leben u. ScJirifien. 1877). Alzog (Patrologie. 3d
■ed., 1876). See also the manuals of church history, history of dogma [e.g.,
Hamack s Lehrtj. d DogTmnncAch.: also Schwane's. Domer's, and others), of
Roman literature (Teufftl), of Chnstian philosophy (Ritt«r, Stock!, Erdniann,
l!eberweg)- Compare also DeuUnger, Geist d. CfiristL IhheTlitferung, vol i.
On the chronology and genuineness of the works attributed to Tertullian. sec
Mosheim, Semler. Noes5elt-(£»c Vera jEUiU et Doctrina Scriptorvm Tertulham.
1768; in Oehler's ed.. vorriii.), Uhlhom (Fundamenla Chronologic TcrtulL,
Cottingen. I8.'i2). Bonwetscri (/>i> Schnfien Terlulhan's n d. Zeil ihrer Ahftisx..
Bonn. 1S7<)). Ketlncr C'Zur Chron. Tert-'s." in Theol. QuartalschT., 1870-71),
Orot^meyer {Vrhfr Tertulhanf Uben ti, Schriften, Keinpen, 1863-65), Harnack
<"ZurChronol d Schr. Tert."B." in Zlschr, f Kirchengesch , IS7S). Noldechen
<"TerU'sGebiirtsj3hr,'' in Ztschr.f. u^iss- Theol., 1886). On Tertullian as a man.
a citizen, and anauttior. see Et>ert (as above), Eneelhardt (" T<-rt-'s schnflstell
C3iaracter,*" in ZUchr. /. d higt. Theol., 1852). Ritter (in Bravin and Achterfelds
Bonner Zeitsrhrifi,iifU 8) iT-ildebrand (in Jahn's Jakrb. z. Alterikumswissensch ,
1*43), Vienug^i iDoctrinonurltilliant df Rep etdeOffic- eljtir. Civium Christtan-
orum. Bonn. 1850). Noldecnen ("Tcrt. als Meosch u als Burger." in Htsl.
Zlschr , 1885). Schmidt {IH Latinitaie Ten., Erlangen. 1870-72). Klussmann
iCtLrarum TrrtvU., pts i,, ii . Dalle. 1881). Hauschild (Die GrundsiUze u Mittel
tier R^ortbildung be^ Tert . Leipsic, 18S1). and Langen (De Usv Tert. Prseposi-
iwnum, Muiiet^r. 1869) On Tt-rtullian as a jurist, see Blumcnbach {De presb}/
Uroet Icto TerluUuirw. Leipsic. 1735), Wicsenhavem (£)« Icto Teriullinrw. Hildcs-
heim. 1743). Pagensipcher (De Jurispr. Tert., Harderwjjk. i't'S). RudorfT (ffom
Bfchtsgesch . \. p 196 s; ) On TertulLan as an apologete. see Hefele ("Ten
als Apologet." in Ifeitr zur Kirche ngeschichu. vol. i.). Jeep ("Tert als Apolo-
eel." 10 Jahrhb f deutiChf Ttifol., 1864). Pelet (Essai rvr iafolog de Ten.,
Slrasburg, I868),.CondamiO {De TertuUiano VejoUe Beliguyriif Patrono, Bar-le-
Due, 1877). Werner (CficA d.apolog u. potemisch. Lit., vols, i-, u.. 1861-62) On
bis relations to the Greek apologist*, see Bamack (Tate n. Vnlers r. altchriu.
Lii.-Cesch.. vol 1). on those to Mlnucius Felix, Ebert (Tert 's Verbaltmss zu
M Felix, Lcipsic- 1S68). and a uuraberof other discussions by Hart«l. Kuhn.
&c His relations t<> Clement of AJexandna have been investigated by
Munscher (in Henkes Afo^/orin. vol vi., 1796). Noldechen (Jahrbb f prol
Theol-, I88G. Theol Sttid u Krit.. 1886), on bis relations t^ IrtoGfus. Htppo-
lytus, Mehto. and the Gnostics, see n.irnack (Zvr Qvelleiikriiik der Oesch. d
Gtostinsmui. Leipsic. 1873), Lipsius(/>i/ VucIUti dcr alte.'^Jfn Keiiergesch , 1875).
Harnack (De ApellitGnosi Monarrhtca. L^ipsic, 1S74. and Te.ife u Vnlerntch .
vol, I >. Hilgenfeld (Keliergesch., 1S84). and Hagemann (Die rom Kirche. 1864)
Bis ret-itions to the Grc«k element in general are treated of by Caspan in vol
111 of his Qu/Uen zvr Gesch d Taii/iijmbols (1875). and thosp to the New Testa
mentand primitive Christianity by Ronsch (Das N T Ten.'s. 1871), Volkmar
{mCredners Gesch d STIichen Kanon. 1860). Westcott (Hisi of thf Canon of
the ff. T.. 5th ed., 1881). Char'fns (Cnnomcuy, 1880). Overbcck (Du Aiiffasisitnn
rf. Stretts riTLSfft/n Pelr^is u pauluf. be\ den Kxrckenvatrrn Basel, 1877), Barth
<"Tcrfs Au(Tas!.ung des- Ap. Paulus." Ac in JaArbh / prof 7"A«a/.. vol vni.).
and Noldechen (" EiDgefldgelles Wort bei Tert.,' in Zudtr.f wiss Theol.. ISR.^)
On Tertullian &s a MonUnisl. see Gottwald (De Monlam.tmo Ten.. Breslau.
1363) and the accounts of Montanism by Schwegler. Baur, Ritschl. Bonwetsch!
De Soyres. Salmon. Vamack. and others, also Noldechen ("Die Krisis in
iirtliag. Schleierstreii." in Ziichr. f. kirchl. WisstTisch. n. ktn-h Lebcn, 188G)-
Od hia rrlition to the creed and mle of faith consult Harnack (Patr. App. 0pp.,
t , :!ded . II Appendix, and /-e'irft d Dogmengesch.. vo\ i> His doctrine of the
Eucharist has been disciissei by Dieringar (in Der Kaihohk (■>r 186^). Leim-
bacli (Beitr z Abtndiiiahlslehre Tert s. Gotha, 1874). and in the standard works
on the history of the doctrine generally For his doctriue of the resurrection.
sfe<>ehninger(7'crf u sfine A u/ersukungstehrt, Augsburg, 1878); for his psycho-
logy, see Der Knlholik for May. August, and September 1865. Murion (£ssni sur
lonaine de i<i-nu dnpret Tert , Strasburg, 1866), Burckhardt (Du Seelenlehrt
des Ten., Bautzen. 1S57), Stockl (De Tert. Doclnna Psychol , Munsier, 1863),
and Hauschild (Ten i Psychologu, Fran kfort-on- Main, 1880) On his doc-
trine of the ongmal state uf man. see Wendt (Dk Lekre von d. menschl VolL
komnenhcil. 1882) and Noldechen (Ztsckr. f. wiss. Theol., 1883); and on his
doctnne of redemption, see Bordes(£iposecri(. des opni (U Ttrt. snr la redemp-
tion. Strasburg, 1860) The treatise Adv. Prajuan and his anti-Monarchian
polemic are discussed by L}pi,\us (Jahrhb f deulsck. Theol, 1868) and Hage-
mann {as above), and in the church liistones . his conception of the sacra-
inenis by Lcimbach (Theol Slud. u. Krit., 1871). His ethical ideas are analysed
by Muuscber (Henkes Magfunn, vol. -n., 1796) and Nielsen (Ten-'s F.ihtk.
Coppnhagen, 1879). the De Pallio by Kellner (Theol. QUi^rfa/sc/jr., 1870), the
De Patientta by Noldechen (Ztschr. /. kircht. H'issensch- u. kirch. Lefceu, 1885),
the Adv- Judneos by Semler. Bonwetsch (as above), and Volkmar (in Credner s
Gesch. d NTlichen Kqioh). the spurious addition to the De Prssciiplwne by
the autborittes already cited for his relations to Gnosticism and by Lipstus
(Zur Quellenkritik df.s Epiphaxios, 1865). On the poem AdiK Marc, falsely
ascribed to Tertullian. see Hfickstadt's monograph (Leipaic. 1875). also the
Ztschr f u'us. Theol., 18"fi ; on the poem De Sodoma et df Jona, sec Mailer
(Rhein Mus., ntii). The passatjes of archsological importance in Tertullian
are discussed by Leimbach in Ztschr. f. die hist. Theol.. 1871, and by Noldechen
in Ztschr f kirchL H'issensch ii kirchl I^ben. 1886 ; see also Morcellus (Africa
Christiann, 3 vols., Brescia, 1816), Miinter(Primordui Ecclesi/e Africans. Copen-
hagen, I829J, and Gorres {" Das Chnstenthum u. der Staat z. Zeit des Raiser
Septinuus Scverus." in Jahrbb f prol Theol., 16T8). Some editions of indi-
vidual works of Tertullian, as well as philological investigations not mentioned
in the foregoing l:st, will be foiiod particularized in Mayors Bibliographical
Clue to Latin LiUraturt, 1875 {A. HA.)
TERUDANT, or Tarudant. See Morocco, vol. xvi.
p. 834.
TERUEL. a province of Spain, formiDg part of the
ancient kingdona of Aragon, is bounded on the N. b>
Zaragoza, on the E. by Tarragona, on the S. by Castellon
de la Plana and Valencia, on the S.W. by Cuenca, an i
on the W. by Guadalajara, and has an area of 2363 square
miles. It 13 intersected from east to west by the mountain
chains of Albarracin and Gudar, from which several offsets
diverge on either side The loftiest summit is the Muela
de San Juan (5280 feet), which is covered with snow for a
great part of the year. These sierras give rise to several
large rivers, the principal being the Tagns, the Guadalaviar»
the Jiloca, and the Guadalope. Notwithstanding the fertile
character of the plains and an abundance of mineral wealth,
the trade of the province is unimportant, and civilization
in a backward state, owing to the lack of means of trans-
port, the want of enterprise, and imperfect communication
with the outer world. The chief products are corn, wine,
oil, cheese, fruits, timber, flax, hemp, silk, wool, and saffron,
together with cattle, shee.p, and swine ; while in the busier
centres some slight manufacture of coarse cloth, paper,
leather, soap, pottery, and esparto goods is carried on. The
population of the province m 1877 was 249,000.
TERUEL, the capital and most important town of the
above province, is situated on the left bank of the Guada-
laviar, 142 miles east of Madrid, and ^ m the high road
from Calatayud to Valencia. It is an a\/cient walled city,
fast failing into decay, with narrow gloomy streets and
crumbling mediaeval houses. Some of the numerous
churches are worth seeing, with their paintings by the
rarely known 17th-century artist Antonio V^squert, as ia
also the great aqueduct of 140 arches, raised 1555-60 by
Pierre Bedel, a French architect. In the cloisters of San
Pedro lie the remains of the celebrated " lovers of Teruel."
Juan de Marcilla and Isabella de Segura, whose pathetic
story has formed the subject of numerous dramas and
poems by Perez de Montalbai>, Yaque de Salas, Hartzen-
busch, and others. The cathedral is Churngueresque
Teruel was raised to the dignity of a see in 1577, the
bishop being suffragan of Zaragoza. The population of
the city in 1877 was 9482.
TESCHEN (Polish Cjes:pi\ the chief town of a duchy
in Austrian Silesia, is situated on the Olsa, a tributary of
the Oder, 34 miles south-east of Troppau. It combines
both Polish and German peculiarities in the style of its
buildings, and contains five churches, the most interestirg
of which are the parish church, which formerly belonged
T E S— T E T
199
to a Dominican moriastery, and the Gnadenkirche, one of
the Protestant churches built in terms of the treaty of
AJtranstadt in 1706. The only relic of the ancient castle
is a square tower, dating from the 12th century. ',- The
manufacturing industry of the town is slight, and, since
the construction of the railway t-ia Oderberg, Teschen has
lost much of the trade formerly commanded by its position
near the borders of SUesia, Hungary, Moravia, and Galicia.
A dai dressing and spinning factory, a large brewery, and
several furniture factories are the chief industrial establish-
ments in the town. The population in 1880 was 13,004.
It wa3 at Teschen that Maria Theresa and Joseph II. signed the
peace which put an end to-the war of Bavarian succession in 1779.
The duchy of Teschen was formerly a more or less direct apanage
of the Bohemian crowa. For some time it bore the name of Saie-.
Teschen (Sachsen-Teschen), owing to the fact that Prince Albert of
Saxony, who married an arehduchess of Anstria, received it as part
of his wife's dowry. Prince Albert bequeathed it in 1822 to the
amperor of Austria, who bestowed it on the archduke Albert.
TESSIN. SeeTicEJo.
TEST ACTS, ilie principle that none but persons pror
f esaing the established religion were eligible for public em-
ployment was adopted by Uie legislatures of both England
and Scotland soon after the Beformation. In England
the Acts of Supremacy and Uniformity and the severe
penalties denounced against recusants, whether Roman.
Catholic or Nonconformist, were affirmations of this prin-
ciple. The Act of 7 Jac. L c; 2 provided that all such as
were naturalized or restored in blood should receive the
sacrament of the Lord's Supper. It was not, however,
until the reign of Charles EL that actual receiving of the
communion of the Church of England was made a cod-
dition precedent to the holding of public offices. The
earliest imposition of this test was by the Corporation
Act of 1661 (13 Car. II. st. 2, c. 1), enacting that, besides
taking the oath of allegiance and supremacy and sub-
scribing a declaration against the Solemn League and
Covenant, all members of corporations were within one
year after election to receive the sacrament of the Lord's
Snpper according to the rites of the Church of England.
This Act was followed by the Test Act of 1672 (25 Car.
n. c. 2). The immediate cause of the Test Act (the fuU
title of which is "An Act for preventing dangers which may
happen from popish recusants ") was the king's declaration
of indulgence, dispensing with laws inflicting disabilities
on Ndnconformiste. Thos Act enforced upon all persons
filling any office, civil or military, the obligation of taking
the oaths of supremacy and allegiance and subscribing a
declaration against transubstantiation, and also of receiving
the sacrament within three months after admittance to
office. The Act did not extend to peers; but in 1678
30 CarT n. st. 2 enacted that. all peers smd members of
ithe House of Commoiis should make a declaration against
transubstan^tion, invocation of saints, and the sacrifice
of the mass, — a special exception being made in favour of
the dtike of York. The provisions of the Test Act were
rviqlated by both Charles II. and James 11. on the ground
of the dispensing power claimed by the Stuart kings. In
a well-known case of Godden v. Hales (11 State Trials,,
|1166), an action for penalties under the Test Act brought
against an officer in the army, the judges decided in favour
of the dispensing power, — a power finally abolished by the
Bill of Rights. ; Aft€r a considerable number of amend-
ments and partial repeals by the legislature of the Acts of
1661, 1672, and 1678, and of Acts of indemnity to pro-
tect_ persons under certain circumstances from, penalties
incurred under the Test Act, the necessity of receiving the
sacrament as a qualification for office was abolished by 9
Geo. IV. c 17, and all Acts requiring the taking of oaths
and declarations against transubstantiation, die., were re-
owlad bv the Roraaa Catholic Relief Act of 1829 (10 Geo.
rV. c. 7)1 This general repeal has been followed by the
special repeal of the Corporation Act by' the Promissory
Oaths Act, 1871 (34 and 35 Ylct. c. 48),'of the Test Act
by the Statute Law Revision Act, 1863, and of the Act
of 1678 by 29 and 30 Vict. c. 19.' Religious jtests re-
mained in the English universities until 1871. )To be a
member of the Church of England^ was a necessary ^con-
dition precedent for holding most university or collegb
offices by the Act of Uniformity of 1662, and such offices
were not aflfected by the Toleration Act of 1688 and the
Roman CathoUc Relief Act of 1829. In 1871 the Uni-'
versity Tests Act abolished subscriptions to the articles of
the Church of England, all declarations and oaths respect-
ing religious belief, and all compulsory attendance at
■public worship in the universities of Oxford, Cambridge,
and Durham. There is an exception confining to persons in
holy orders of- the Church ofc England degrees in divinity
and positions restricted to persons in holy orders,>nch as
the divinity and Hebrew professorships.
Scotland. — A religious teat was imposed immediately after^th*
EeformatioD. By 1M7, c 9, no one was to be appointed to a public
office or to be a notary who did not profess the Reformed religion-i
The Scotch Test Act was 1681, c 6, rescinded by 1690, c 7. "Re-*
nunciAtion of popery was to be made by persons employed in^edur
cation (1700, c 3). A motion to add, after the 18th article of union,'
an exemption of Scotsmen from the sacramental test in the United
Kingdom was negatived by the Scottish parliament. ^^A similar fato
awaited a projKfflal that while a sacramental test was in force in
England aU persons in public otEce in Scotland should subscribe
tbeiT adhesion to the Presbyterian Church government. By 1707,'
c 6, all professors, principals, regents, masters, or others bearing
office in any university, collece, or school in Scotland were to pro-
fess and subscribe to the Confession of Faith. ~ All persons were to
be free of any oath or test contrary to or _ inconsistent with the
Protestant religion and Presbyterian Church government The
reception of the communion was never a part of the test in Scotland
as in England and Ireland. The necessity for subscription to the
Confession of Faith by persons holding a university office (other
than that of principal or professor of theology) was removed by
1 6 and 1 7 Vict. c. 89. The Act provides that in place of subscription
every person appointed to a university office is to subscribe a declar-
ation according to the form in the Act, promising not to teach any
opinions opposed to the divine authority of Scripture or to tha
Confession of Faith, and to do nothing^to the prejudice of the Church
of Scotland or its doctrines and privileges.
_ Ireland. — An oath of allegiance was required bythe Irish Act of
Supremacy (2 Eliz. c. 1). The English Act of 3 Will, and M. c. 2
snbstitnted other oaths and enforced in addition from peers, mem-
bers of the House of Commons, bishops, barristers, attorneys, and
others a declaration against transubstantiation, invocation of the
Virgin Mary and the saiuts, and the sacrifice of the mass. By the
Irish Act of 2 Anne c. 6 every person admitted to any office, civil
or military, was to take and subscribe the oaths of allegiance,
supremacy, and abjuration, to subscribe the declaration against
transubstantiation, ic, and to receive the Lord's Supper according
to the usage of the Church of Ireland. . English legislation on the
subject of oaths and declarations was adopted in Ireland bv Yelver-
ton's Act, 21 and 22 Geo. III. c 48, § 3 (Ir.). These pvovisionfi
were all repealed by the Promissory Oaths Act, 1871.^ The Roman
Catholic Relief Act of 1793 (33 Geo. III. c. 21, Jr.) excented Trinity
College, Dablin, from its Drovisions, and tests existed In Dublin
university until 1873.' T'hey were abolished as far as regarded
certain scientific professorships in 1S67 by 30 Vict. c. 9, and were
finally abolished for the whole university by the University of Dublin
Tests Act, 1873, except as to professors of and lecturers in divinity.
United States.— By art. 6 of the constitution, " no religious test
shall ever be required as a qualification to any office or public truat
under the United States." i A similar pro\'ision is generally included
■ in the State constitutions.^
TESTAMENT. See Will:
TESTIMONY.' See Evidknce.\ ^
TETANUS (from Gr.'TtiVu, I stretch), a disorder of 'the
nervous system, consisting in an increased reflex excita-
bility of the spinal cord and manifesting itself by painful
tonic spasm of the voluntary muscles throughout the body.
The disease shows itself under various conditions. It
occasionally occurs, particularly in tropical countries, with-
out apparent cause, and has thus been known to aflfect
numbers of persons simultaneously (idiopaMc ieianju)^
200
T E T — T E T
It is sometimes observed in new -bom children (trismus
neonatorum) and in parturient women (puerperal tetanus).
But by far the greater number of cases occur in connexion
with a wound or other injury, more especially in the ex-
tremities, probably implicating some of the peripheral
nerves. Certam forms of injury, as punctured, lacerated,
and gunshot wounds, are more liable to be followed by
tetanus than others. In many cases the liability bears no
proportion to the extent of the wound. Exposure to cold
after injury is an important exciting cause. The symptoms
of tetanus in its most usual forms generally appear during
the healing process of a wound, but occasionally they arise
after cicatrization is completed. Sometimes they are pre-
ceded by appearances of irritation in the wound or its
neighbourhood, but this is exceptional. The earliest indi-
cations of the disease usually show themselves, no matter
where the wound is situated, by stiffness about the muscles
of the jaw, causing difficulty in opening the mouth, which
soon increases to lockjaw or trismus. This is accompanied
by spasm in neighbouring muscles, and the drawn features
and exposed teeth give to the countenance the peculiar
expression known as risus sardonicus. The rigidity ex-
tends to the muscles of the neck, back, chest, abdomen,
and extremities, and the body frequently assumes a bent
attitude, either backward (opisthotonos), forward (empros-
tkotonos), or laterally (pleurost/iotonos). This general
muscular rigidity, which at iirst is not constant but occa-
sioually undergoes relaxation, is accompanied by frequently
recurring convulsive seizures, which are readily excited by
the slightest irritation, such as from a draught of cool air,
a bright light, the closing of a door, &c. In such attacks
there is great suffering and the expression of the face is
indicative of agony ; and the function of respiration may
be seriously involved and asphyxia threaten or actually
take place The temperature of the body sometimes rises
to a high degree. The attack is usually acute and after
a few days either passes oflf or, as is more frequent, ter-
minates fatally, either by asphyxia from tonic spasm of
the respiratory muscles or from exhaustion consequent on
the violence of the symptoms together with the absence of
sleep. Throughout, the whole course of the disease the
mind is clear. In idiopathic tetanus the symptoms are
less severe, the course more chronic, and recoveries more
common than in those which <lepend upon a wound or
injury The puerperal form, with symptoms which differ
in no way from those described, is rare and occurs either
after parturition or after abortion. Tetanus in new-bom
children, a' o a rare form, usually shows itself a day or two
after birth by obvious difficulty in the acts of sucking and
swallowing , by the supervention of trismus, together with
tonic contraction of the muscles of the limbs and -body,
sometimes accompanied by convulsive seizures; and by a
peculiar low whining cry, seldom absent and very charac-
teristic. Various opinions have been held as to the cause
of this form of tetanus, some referring it to the wound
produced by severance of the umbilical cord, others to
pressure upon the bones of the head iii parturition, ifec.
It has not yet been satisfactorily explained. Although
sometimes recovered from, it is usually fatal.
The symptoms of poisoning by strychnine bear a strong
resemblance to those of tetanus. They are, however, more
acute and develop in connexion with something which has
been taken ; further, the absence of a wound and the fact
that the spasm affects the muscles of the extremities first,
and not those of the jaws, as in tetanus, serve to establish
the diagnosis. In Hydrophobia (q.v.), which in certain
of its symptoms resembles tetanus, the absence of trismus,
the dread of water, and the violent spasms on attempting
to drink, together with the history of the case, readily
enable a distinction to be made. Various other forms of
I nervous disease accompanied by tetanic symptoms, such as
cerebro-spinal meningitis, hysteria in some forms, itc, may
be still more clearly distinguished from true tetanus.
The pathology of tetanus is referred to in the article
Pathology (vol. xviii. p. 391). No constant changes are-
observed in the body after death from tetanus. The most
common are great dilatation of the blood-vessels of the
spinal cord and sometimes evidence of inflammatory action,
but these are probably the effects of the symptoms rather
than their cause.
For the treatment of tetanus many remedies have been
employed. Where a source of irritation in or about a.
wound can be made out, it ought to be dealt with Ijy the
surgeon. Of medicinal agents those which diminish the
reflex excitability of the spinal cord and relax the spasm
are to be recommended. But it is not safe to employ all
substances which produce these effects. Thus tobacco and
its active principle nicotine act powerfully in this way, but
they are attended with danger from their poisonous proper-
ties, and the same may be said of curari, conium, calabar
bean, «fec., all of which have been used in tetanus. Opium
carerully administered sometimes produces a markedly
beneficial effect, as does also Indian hemp. Chloroform
or ether inhalation greatly mitigates the severity of the
spasm. Chloral hydrate and bromide of potassium or
ammonium are among the most useful agents which can
be employed, and they may be givei^ separately or, stiU
better, in combination. As adjuvants, the warm bath, the
absence of all noise and excitement, and the maintenance
of the strength by appropriate nutriment should not b©
neglected.
TETRARCH (nrpdpxrii), the ruler of a tetrarchy
(T(Tpap\!.a.), that is, in the original sense of the word, of
one quarter of a region. The title of tetrarch is familiar
from the New Testament as borne by certain princes of
the petty dynasties which the Romans allowed to exercise
a dependent sovereignty within the province of Syria. In
this application it has lost its original precise sense, and
means only the ruler of part of a divided kingdom, or of
a region too narrow to support a higher title. After the
death of Herod the Great (4 B.C.) his realm was shared
among his three sons : the chief part, including Judaea,
Samaria, and Idumea, fell to Archelaus (Matt. ii. 22), with
the title of ethnarch ; Philip received the north-east of the
realm, and was called tetrarch ; and Galilee was given to
Herod Antipas, who bore the same title (Luke iii. 1).
These three sovereignties were reunited uiider Herod
Agrippa from 41 to 44 a.d. Another tetrarchy is men-
tioned in Luke iii. 1, viz., that of Lysanias in the little
district of Abilene, near Damascus, in the valley of the
Barada. An inscription of this Lysanias is given in C.
/. Gr., 4521.
See Renan, M(m de VAcad., xxvi. 2 (1870), p. 49 sq.
TETUAN (Tetldwin), a town of Morocco, about 2S
miles south-south-west from Ceuta and 44 south-east
from Tangiers, is picturesquely situated about 9 miJe»
inland on the steep slope of a hill, behind which rise the
bold Rif Mountains. It is surrounded by walls flanked
with towers, and has on the summit of the hill a castle
which is the residence of the governor. ■ The streets are
narrow, unpaved, and dirty, and with few exceptions the
houses are poor. Some of the numerous mosques, however,
are handsome. The principal manufactures are gun-barrels,
coarse woollen cloths, and woollen and silk sashes. The
harbour of Tetuan, at the mouth of the Martil, allows only
small vessels to cross the bar, and the roadstead is much
exposed to the east. There is some export trade in cattle,
grain, fruit, leather, and wool, principally to Gibraltar.
The population of Tetuan is estimated at about 20,000
(5000 Jews).
T E U — T E W
201
I
Tctuao'is sani lo liavVbfcn TouDded 'ill 1492 by refugees from
Crinida H «>s tikcn by slotm on 4th February 1860 by tin-
Spaniartis under O'Donnell, but restored to Morocco when i>eace
vas concluded-
TEUTONES.'oV TEtrroNi, a powerful German'tribe,
irst appearing in history along with the Cjmbri- (7.V ).
They are again mentioDed at a later period by Pliny (HJV.,
txxvii 11) and others as inhabiting a district in the north-
vest of Germany to the north of the Elbe. The name of
feutones was never employed either by the Germans them-
selves or by the Romans as a general name for the whole
German nation.
rEUTOXIC LANGUAGES. See GERiLi.w (vol. x. p.
314 sij.) , also English Lancoace, Goths (voL x. p. 852
<y.), ScaNDI.VaVIaN LA.tGDAGES, FRiSlAKS, and HOLLAND
'vol. xii.'p. 84 SI).).
' TEUTONIC ORDER, The, or Teutonic Kmghts of
5t Mary's Hospital at Jerusale.m (Deutsc/ier Orden,
Deutsche' Bitter, Orden der Ritter des Hospilales St Marten
at Jerusalem), is one of the three great military and re-
ligious orders to which the crusades gave birth. Its
aame is derived from a German hospital founded at
Jerusalem in 1128, ■n-hich disappeared on the capture of
she Holy City by the Saracens in 1187. The pity excited
,n the minds of some German merchants by the sufferings
jf the Christian soldiers at the sioge of Acre in 1190
jiduced them to revive the work of this Society under a
lomewhat different form ; and eight or nine years later the
society, as thus resuscitated, was converted into a military
order. Like the two other military ordprs, the Teutonic
3rder adopted the Augustine rule of life ; and, in addition
to the ordinary monastic vowa, the members laid upon
themselves the special obligations of tending sick and
wounded pilgrims and of fighting the pagans. Frederick,
duke of Swabia, took the young order under his protection,
•ind it soon received charters from the pope and emperor,
sntitUng it to the same privileges as the Templars and
Knights of St John. Whatever was the case at first, the
meoibers of the order were ultimately Tequired to be
Germans of honourable birth. Priest brothers were intro-
du' ed about li"20, and afterwards half-brothers, like the
frrres servant dames of the othef orders, who did not
reiuire to be of noble birth, and might, to some extent,
continue their ordinary secular occupations. The distin-
griishing garb of the order consisted of a white mantle
with a black cross.
, Almost at once a rich stream of benefactions of all kinds
began to flow into the coffers of the order, which gradu-
ally acquired extensive territories in Palestine and also in
Germany and other parts of Europe. Its first seat was at
Acre, and the first grand -master was a Rhenish knight
named Herman -Walpot of Bassenheim. The order rose
to great power and influence under Herman von Salza
[q.v.), who held the oflice of grandmaster from about 1210
to 1239, and enjoyed the fullest confidence of both em-
peror and pope. He was also keen enough to see the
aopelsssness of the attempt to expel the Mohammedans from
the Holy Land, and eagerly hailed the opportunity of trans-
ferring the activity of the order to another sphere which
was afforded by the invitation to undertake -a crusade
igainst the heathen Prussians. The successful progress of
this crusade, the- aggrandizement thereby accruing to the
order, and its subsequent decline have already been nar-
.-ated in the article Prussia (vol. xx. pp. 5-6). Soon
ift€r the beginning of the struggle, in 1237, the Teutonic
order absorbed the order of the Brothers of. the Sword, a
union which brought Courland, Seragallen, and Livonia to
swell its territories. In 1291, when Acre, the last strong-
hold of the Franks in Palestine, fell the order removed its
hcadana^rters to Veuice ; .but, when its centre of gravity
became so obviously shifted to the extensive terriloriejj
won from the Prussians; the seat of government was irana.
ferred (1309) to Marlenbdro (9.1'.) on ths Vistula, whore
a splendid castle was erected for the grand-masters. Tha'
grand -mastership of Weinrich von Kuiprode (1351-82) ia
the most prosperous period in the history of the order.'
Its territorial possessions far exceeded those attained by
either of Uie rival orders, stretching from the Oder on the
west to the Gulf ol Finland on the east, and containing a
population of two to three million souls. Its government
at first was excellent, and for a time it may be said to
have played the leading role in the political history of
northern Europe.'- Wherever the order spread, Christianity'
and German national life were introduced. Its revenue-s
were very large, and its ranks were kept full by hosts of
aspirants to a share in its pious and lucrative crusades.
^ long as the order uiaiulained its own high standard
all went well with it. But its internal decay was syn-
chronous with external events tliat would alone have been
extremely perilous. The union of Poland and Lithuania
in 1 386 raised up a jealous neighbour, whoso, power it waa
wellnigh impossible in the long run to resist, while the
nominal conversion of the latter to Christianity struck at
the root of the order's prosperity by depriving it of its
mission. WTien there were no more heathens within reach
to convert and despoil, the chief attraction to outsiders to
join its ranks disappeared. After the conversion of Pru&sia
into a secular duchy the Teutonic order still continued fei
exist as an ecclesiastical organization, possessing eleveD
bailiwicks in different parts of Europe, ■with a total area of
'850 square miles and 88,000 inhabitants. The head-
quarters were fixed at Mergentheiin in Swabia. Its poli-
tical importance was. of course now a thing of the past,
and the scattered position of the bailiwicks only emphasized
its ■v^eakness. In 1801 the bailiwicks to tho west of the
Bhine wei'e absorbed by France, and in 1809 the ordei
was entirely suppressed by Napoleon, its lands going to
tflfi secular principahlies witlin which they lay. In 1840
the order was resuscitated in Austria, where- it now exists
as a semi -religious knighthood, presided over^by a royal
archduke. Of late it has beip doin^ something towards
justifying its existence and connecting itself with its past
history by engaging in the an.bulance service in time of
war. The bailiwick of Utrecht, which survived the decree
of Napoleon, also still exists, but t^e Dutch rf presentatives
of the order have become Protesta.'its. The jewel of the
order consists of a black and ■white cross, sui mounted )>y
a helmet with three feathers.
H ■ • ^
The complete organization -of the Tcutcnic -oruer inclttiJe^ s
grand-master (kochmeistsr), provincial masters "(/anrfwMu'ffr) for the
greater provinces, and commanders {komturcn) for the siialler dis-
tricts .aod castles. The power of these ofEcers .vas not, l^owever,
absolute. The grand-master co-operated with a c>i»pter cc-n^isting
.of the provincial masters and five other important functi.'nariea.
while the provincial masters in turn had to cons.'ilt wiih. the
conncil formed by the kniglit commanders. The privilt^en' «njoyed
by the order in its palmy days were of the most extensive liatu'e,
and its relations to boti church and state were often ot s mctS
exceptional nature.
See Volgt, Ctsch. d. DtnUJun Rilltronlcnt (1857-59) ; Lohmeyer, CmK v'.O.*
V. Vrst-Prnisen (vol.-!., Gotlia, 16S1); and E. Etrebllce, TahuUs OnKliil 3 V»-
lonM (Berlin. I86S>.
TEWKESBITIY, an ancient borough and market-town
of Gloucestershire, England, is situated in a fine pastoral
valley at the junction of the Severn and the Upper Avon,
and on the Midland and Great Western Railways, 15
miles south of Worcester and 126 north-west of London.
It has three principal streets, which are regularly built and
well paved. The Severn is crossed by an iron bridge with
a flattened arch of 170 feet span, erected by Telford in
1824. Of the great Benedictine abbey, one of the richest
foundations in England, refounded and enlarged by Sit
X.XIIL — :6
202
T E X — T E X
Robert I'ltz-Hamon in the 12tli century on the site of tbe
ancient hermitage and Saxon monastery, there only remain
the gate and part of the cloisters. The abbey church,
consecrated in 1125, is a magnificent specimen of Early
Norman. This elaborate cruciform building consists of
nave and side aisles, with transepts united by a grand
cehtral tower richly arcaded. The choir terminates in an
apse and is surrounded by an ambulatory. One of the
most remarkable features of the building is the unique
western front, the central part of which ia occupied by one
vast arcb extending from the ground to the roof. Origin-
ally it was filled in with Norman windows, but these were
removed in the 14th century, when the whole building
underwent restoration in the Middle Decorated style, of
which it is one of the finest existing examples. The nave
was refilled by tracery windows, and stone groining was
substituted for the carved wooden ceiling, a like transfor-
mation taking place in the transepts. The old Norman
columns- in the choir still exist; but above them rises a
grand superstructure of D.ecorated work. "^ The elegant
clerestory windows are of the 14th century, with stained
glass of the same date. The ambulatory was rebuilt some
distance farther out, and from it projected a beautiful series
of chapels. The elaborate tombs include those of Sir
Robert Fitz-Hamon, the De Spensers, Alan prior of
Canterbury, Sir Guy do Brien, and. the vault of George
duke of Clarence (murdered in the Towe_r) and ilia wife
Isabella. Edward, prince of Wales, slain after the battle
of Tewkesbury (1471) by the Yorkists, is also buried in
the church, which has undergone an extensive process of
restoration .luhder the direction of Sir Gilbert Scott. In
the High Street there are several ancient timbered and
gabled . houses. .Remains of an ancient wall have been
discovered adjoining the town. The principal modem
buildings are the town-hall, the philharmonic hall, and the
corn exchange. -There is a free grammar-school and a
number of charities, including the dispensary, the rural
Irospital, aiid Queen Mary's, Barnes's, Richardson's, and
Russell's almshouses. Formerly Tewkesbury had a, woollen
trade and an importaBTraustard manufacture, but it is now
chiefly dependent on its agricultural trade. The popula-
tion of 'the municipal borough- (area, 2619 acres) in 1871
yas 5409, and in 1881 5100.
" 'The town is supposed to derive it3 name from Theoc, a Saxon
monk, who founJcJ a licrmiUge here In the end of the 7th century,
[which was cliaiigcd into a monastery by the duke of Mercia in 716,
and rebuilt by Sii Robert FitzHaraon in 1102. On the death of
FitE-Hamon in 1 1 47 tlie minor passed to the De Clares, who became
merped in the De Spenscre, they in turn in the Beauchamps, and
the Bcaudianips in tlie NeHlles. At Tewkesbury took place, 4th
May 1471, the battle between (he Yorkists and Lancastrians which
placed the crown on the head of'Edward IV. During tho Civil
War the town was occnpied by the Parliamentarians, who were
driven out by the Royalists ; .but it was surprised and captured by
the former in 1644, after which it remained in their possession.
Tewkesbury was first incorporated by Elizabeth in 1574, and when
James I. sold the manor to tho corporation in 1609 he granted it
a new charter with extended privileges! ■ This being lost during
the Civil War, a new charter was granted by Cliarles II. _ Betwe'fen
1692 and 1698 tho town was without a corporation, but a new.
charter was granted by William III., which remained the govern-
ing charter until the passing of tho Municipal A'^U * Until 1867
Tewkesbury returned two members to the House of Commons ;
from 1867 to 1885 it returned one ; and in 1885 it became merged
in the north or Tewkesbury division of Gloucestershire. -' •'
*■ The Annates dc Thfokesbena (ipcit-1263) are publidhed In Anvales Monastxci,
.edited by U, K. Luanl, 1504. .^ . _ j
Flatellt TEXAS, the largest in area and the eleventh"in popula-
Bound tion of the United States of America, is bounded by the
'"** Gulf of Mexico on the S.E.j Tjy Louisiana and Arkansas
on the E., by Arkansas and th^lndian Territory on the
N.; the latter extending north pf its northern prolonga-
tion (the. Panhandle), by Ne* Mexicp on the W. and N. of
its western prolongation (the tran*?*enos region), and by
Me.xicooD the S.W, Its area in ISSO wa,i 262,230 square
tniles, or one-eleventh (nearly 9 per cent.) of the entire
area of the United States. The extreme ' length is 740
miles, the breadth 825, and the coast line 400 miles. The
boundaries, as recognized by the United States Govern-
ment,' are^the Gulf of Mexico from the Rio Grande to the
Sabine river, the Sabine river to 32° N. lat., thence the
meridian of 94° 10' to the Red river of Louisiana, thence
following that river west to its intersection with the 100th
meridian, thence north to lat. 36° 30', thence west to 103^
W. long., thence south to lat. 32°, thence west to its inter-
section with the Rio Grande, which river constitutes the
south-western border of the State to the Gulf of Mexico. .,
The surface features are exceedingly varied, the prevailing ele-Ehysicat
ments being steppes or treeless plains in the north-west, mountains features
west of the Fecos river, forests m the east, marshes adjacent to the and divi
coast, low prairies in the south-east, and a combination of prairies siona ''
and broken hills, interspersed with forest growth and thickets of
tall shrubs (chaparral), in tho centre. These regions are classified as
follows (seo map below). (1) The coast plain is the direct geo-
graphical and geological continuation of the other States which'
border on the Gulf of Mexico. It includes all the country east of|
a line concentric with the coast, drawn from Texarkana in the
north-east corner of tho State to near Laredo on tho Rio Grande.!
The general direction of its slope, in common with that of the rest
of the State, is from north-west to south-east. Its altitude ranges
up to 500 feet. The immediate coast strip is newjy made marsh*
land ; west of this and north of the Colorado river are forests ; and
to the south of it the country ia mostly a plain. (21 1'lip black
prairie region suc-
ceeds the coast plain
on the west. Its west- <
em border is sharply
defined from the
Red river to the Rio
Grande, beginning
at Denison, passing
through or near tho
eities of Sherman,
Dallas, Waco, Austin,
end San Antonio, ami
then deflected west-
ward to Eagle pass. --
It is a gently undu
fating prairie,covereo
with a rich black soil,
and varies in altitude
from 300 to 700 feet - '
(3) The central region
extends from the black prairie region on the east to the castenk
escarpmentof the great plains on tho north-west and the trans-Pecos
mountains on the south-west. This is the only region of Tcias which
is not the direct continuation of the physical features of some ad-^
joining political divisioiL A great variety of conditions is embraced
within its bounds. In its north-eastern part are two long belts oC
stunted forest (tho Cross Timbers), extending from the Red river
to the Brazos, and separated by a prairie 50 miles in width. This
is the most fertile portion of the entire region. West of this
sub-region and north of the Colorado is a broken, arid country
(the Coal-measures), having a sandy, pebbly soil, covered with a
scattered growth of vegetation," West of this, between the lOOthJ
meridian and the escarpment of tho plains, is the gypsum coimtrj-.j
consisting of the so-called "red beds " of the westei-n United States,]
accompanied by massive deposits of gypsum and other salts. This-
country is mucn sculptured by erosion, and in places resembles the
"bad lands " of the upper Missouri country. There are also exten.|
sive intervals of prairie here. Near the centre, in the counties of San,
Saba, Mason, and Llano, is a rough, semi-mountainous area of older;
formations. The southern half of the central region is a broken^
country of white limestone formation, semi-tropical in cliniate;,
and covered with scraggy vegetation, its physical features gradual-,
ing into those of northern Mexico. The south-western part is a
tolling plain, entirely destitute of streams. Throughout ' the
region, at intervals of many miles, low, truncated hills {butUs)
occur, representing the remains of UinestJone formations now being
rapidly eroded. . The region, as a whole, is pooriy watered. « It is
best adapted for cattle and sheep raising, and is the chief locality
of those industries in Texas. The altitude varies from 700 to
•2500 feet (4) The plains region is tho portion of the State west
of the 101st meridian and north of the thirty -second parallel,'
' The Slate does not recognize the South Fori
as the northern boundary, but insists upon the K
claims tho lOOlh meridian as laid dcivn upon Melli
e-is! oflh; true meridian) as tha eastern border ot
&lap showiDg geographical diviBioiu).
'4
of tbe Ued rivzi
}rth Fork ; it also
>h'3ii]ap(lU0milQ4
' he Panhandle.
T E X A
Ri'ew.
Jeology
ommonlv snowr as thr Sukcd Plair (LUno Estaoadot It
IS the dii«'i southern TOntmuatiou and termination of the gr^at
plains of the North Araencan continent which oxtend alon^' the
eastern slope of the Rocky Mountains from British America 1*0 the
Rio Pecos The eastern ejgc 13 well marked liy a steep escarpment,
which, in consequence of destructive erosion, is constantly reccdin<'
to the nestward The surface is smooth, and utterly devoid 0I'
forest growth or streams of water But there are many small
pondj or lakes, and in the southern part these are saline The
toil IS light, rich, and fKjrous, and is covered with a good gr.rwth of
crass Ijntil a few years a^o this region was totally unpeopled
but many portions of it are now (1S8< ) used for grazing purposes'
Titer lieing secured by means of wells or ai.ificially constructed
"vservoirs The altitude ranges i"rom 2500 to 4000 feet '5) The
;rans-r»cos or mounUinous region west of the Pecos nver is com-
posed of numerous mountain peaks and ranges with mtervenmc
valleys of many miles m width It is poorly watered, and the
popiriatioii outside the immediate Rio Grande valley is very sparse
The jteiicral level of the country is from 3000 to 5000 feet
The rivei^ are separable into several subsystems TUe Rio
, J"^*""'' ^^^ Arkansas, constituting the noitli and south limits
of the Texas drainage system, with their respective tributaries, the
Pecos and the Canadian, originate in a limited district of northern
New Mexico and Colorado, and ultimately reach the sea at points
a thousand miles apart The Canadian and 'ho Pecos have cut
deep caftons through the Llano Estacado The former continues
eastward through Indian Territory, and the latter southward join-
ing the Rio Grande between 101" and 102° W long, on the southern
boi-der of -he .State The Rio Grande and the Pecos receive no
Wibntaries of importance m Te.xas. but are constant in their flow.
The next and most important group comprises the Red, the Brazos!
and the Colorado, all of vhich originate along the eastern border
of 'he Llano They traverse similar regions, and have a general
resemblance in cliaracter of sediment, irregularity of flow, velocity
ind topogranhy of drainage basins Their brackish water is pnncV-
pally denved from the sudden precipitation of rainfall alone the
gjpsiferous escarpment of the Llano Its volume is ordinarily
small >he flow often ceasing entirely west of the black prairie
fegior, There are periodic freshets, however, which suddenly
'well tfte volume to enormous proportions These freshets, ladeu
''ith the nch red loam of the plains, usually reach the lower in-
habited sections of the State in periods of drought, and are termed
red nses Much of this sediment is deposited upon the flood
plane of the lower valleys, and by this process the most valuable
sugar and cotton lands of the coast plain have been built up
Another important gronp consists of the Sabine, the Trinity the
^n Marcos the Onadalupe, and the Nueces, most of which have
tlieir ongin near the western border of the black prairie region
I hese streams have a greater volume nnd are more constant in flow
that. «nv others and are usually without deep canons or wide
bottom* Many of them, especially those south of Austin have
their origin from large springs situated along the foot of the escarp.
inent line extending from Austin southwestward Another sub-
sidiary system of streams originates m the narrow Quaternary
region along the coasl.mithin the district of the greatest rainfall.
1 hese streams are tidal, and sometimes navigable towards their
.mouths Most of them are locally known as bayou.H In general
Ne,th.77 ",[ f r ""1 ^^P'-"^ f°'' "-"g^t'on or navigation:
Neither do they afford much available water power north of Austin
1 he entire geologic senes. with a few exceptions, is represented in
lexas The eariier Pateozoic rocks, including the pre-Cambnan
d,r'!^*''''*?.t*c,"i *«°'"Pa"y'ng geological map), the Pots-
dam ,oc,. and the Ordovician (oc), up to the Trentonl underiie the
>tate. but »-e only exposed in t«o limited districts. The first of
.he.se u in the .counties of Mason. Llano, Burnet, and San Saba
l^r!^' "''?'.'?' ''P°°' '*"■ other is in the disturbed mountainous
portion of the trans-Pecos region The Cambrian was deposited
horuontally upon the upturned Keweenawian. and the Ordovician
appear, to rest conformably upon the Cambrian (PotsdSm) - but
mere -va.. a .Mntinentjl elevation of the whole region, nrobablv
^Zr.r^l^' ""■ "^"^ °' "■' Trenton epoch, wSich continued
?H r, n^''"'"^ "^ "■* Co>l-measure epoch, for the Upper
iilunan. Devonian and sub -Carboniferous are absent, and the
^n/Zl''t a^"'"'^'^ J^'^ ^'■'*" P^I'^^O'c sediments
prraent no marked stratigraphical or palsontological differences
Tow ih Tf f?™*'"'"^ aroughont the continent, and thus
«rj, T. !u^' "^'^'"huted uniformity of conditions which then
!„ .K . commencement of the Carboniferous period, how-
n^'k f f'""''"' difference of faunal, lithological, and strati-
Ci^lf^'",'? ^/"'" "^'"^ distinguishes the synchronous
BfThi It . 1 ^'*'" fo'-'n^'ion^ of the western and eastern portions
~ a^^h'^'^'^n !>>» Texas region has been the transition
SrClr t"" ^" "'^ geologic deposits, beginning with the
^rboni/ero,,,, have two faces, dependent upon their geographical
S^ntleitr' °/-"'"' "' '""^ ^^ '""K- and^epresentinglhesedi.
'tuZ!^} ■"' "]''"'"■ ''°"tine"<al basins or of the waters of the
-uaone aunng alternating periods of submergence and emergence.
•203
The Cirboniferous rocks, and most of .!«. succeeding rormatmnv
are exposed m two widely separated portions of .hi Slate, wuh
e.itiiely different lithoIogical and faunal aspects. The mutual re
itions of these series have never been traced The hrst n.rur, n.
the central region between 97° and lOO" W ,0,10.. north of .he
Colorado nvei. and consists of clays, sandstones conglomerates,
limestones, and coal seams of workable thickness It is the south!
western prolongation and termination of the Coal-measures of the
Tfl"! 1J; r — r-— •' g . ,-
Geological map ol Ttr\as
eastern United States Theserocks, although m general similar ic
thein, differ in some respects from those of the same formation
lurther east, and also exhibit a few resemblances to the strictly
marine Carboniferous of the Rocky Mountain region (k") To the-
other series belongs the traus-Pecos Carboniferous (k'). Although
this IS of the same geologic age as the eastern Coal-measures it ,»
a purely marine deposit of limestones and sandstones, and is barren
ot vegeuble remains. It is exposed along the Ouadalupe and other
mountains of the trans-Pecos region, forming the most eastern
outcrops of the non-coal-bearing Carboniferous of the west The
.study of the areal distribution and relation of the strata intervening
between the Carboniferous and the fully-identihed Cretaceous m
iexas has not been begun The Permian. Triassic, and Jurassic
11 they exist, have not been clearly diagnosed. althou»h ihes^
names have been applied to the scnes of rocks west of thi central
Carboniferous region The thickness of the sediments belongiiic
to these undcte.mined strata is very groat They arc mostly un
lossiliferous, and the presence of stratihed gj'psum and other salts
indicates that they were laid down in an interior basin cut off from
oceanic waters and were too highly concentrated for the existence
ot molluscan life. Certain of these deposits, known as " red beds '
or 'Jura-Trias-CJTI. extend beneath the Llano Estacado. across
Mew Mexico, and into Anzona The Cretaceous is by far the most
conspicumis and extensive ol the geologic formations of the Stale
It once covered the entire territory, bnt has been eroded away m
many places west of the black prairie region, exposing the oWr
formations, and is covered to the e^t of that region by more rft^,.,i
deposits. From the fact thai the lowesi member of the sen™ i<.
found resting directly upon the ure-Camnnan in LJano county, the
Carbonilerous in Lampasas and the counties northward, the Silurian
in the trans-Pecoi region and the .lura Trias beds in lb« plains-
region it is evident that its beginning marked a penod nt conti-
nental submergence and thai this submergence, from the great
thickness of pelagic sediments in it, was long continued The
lowest member of the series the oldest known of the American
Cretaceous, is unfcnowr. elsewhere in the United States .nd its
peculiar features give mdividiialiLv 10 the central rcioi. Thi«
member ICN), which may be called the Texas group, is The equiva-
lent of the Neocomian of hurope, and many of its fossils are common
to fcurope and America It is not exposed east of the central region
except (probably) in the salines of Louisiana. There was a creai
elevation of this deep-sea formation at ita close, as is attested by the
shallow water sediments of later groups denosite.i unconfom^abU
upon It The Middle (cc. cs') and the Upper Cretaceous (cs>
and cs') are also well exposed The black praine region is under
lain by the middle and nppcr groups of the manna CreUceooj
charactenstic of the other Gulf States and known as the Rotter
Litnestone {cs') and Ripley (cs') groups. The Cretaceous groups
of the Rocky Mountain region extend into Texjs, and are expos5
in the jrans-Pecos region and along the lower Rio Granda Tht
204
TEXAS
Moun-
tains.
Minerals
Tertiary tannatjona, so far as n^ugnizecl^\%re pureiy marine, anci,
TSjtt the marine Upper Cretaceous of the black prairie repion, arc
the direct geographical continuation of the formations of 0^ oJner
Gulf Stares. They occupy the coast phic, ir. "banas approximately
«oncentrio «ith the shore of the Gulf of Mexico, and represent
the sediments of its receding waters. The alleged occurrence of
the fretJi-water Miocene, the Loup river group (m), upon the Llano
J-lstacado Jlas not been demonstrated. Quaternary (q) and otiicr
recent alluvial deposits occur along the coast and the upper terraces
of the three older river systems as far west as the eastern border
of the central region. -. This is attested by the character of the dc-
|>asits, accompanied by well-authenticated remains of the elephant
and mastodon. These Quaternary soils are mostly the rtdcposited
detritus of the strata of the eastern escarpment of the Llano
IZstacado, which is carriad down by the "red rises." Tlie surface
features of the central region are the result of sub-aerial denudation.
The black prairie is protected from this destructive erosive process
by the tenacious character of its soil ; and the coast plain is cov cred
by a luxuriant forest growth, and is constantly extending eastward
by the recession of the shore line. The final emergence of the State
began in Aliddle Cretaceous time, and was connected with the same
movements that brought up the Rocky Mountain system. The
strata of Texas, except the Palaeozoic groups, are soft, and yield
readily to disintegration. A few eruptive sheets are found in the
trans- Pecos region and along the lower Rio Grande, being remnants
of the eastern edge of the great eruptive area of the Rocky Moun-
tain region. Granitic ma.sses occur, as extrusions from the pre-
Cambrian, in the central and trans-Pecos Palaeozoic deposits.
The eastern ranges of the Rocky Mountain system are deflected
towards the Gulf of Mexico after passing south of 33° N. lat., and
lake a south-easterly course througli Texas into Mexico, the trend
of their, axes being generally parallel to the direction of the Rio
r.r.inde and its principal tributaries. The only true mountains iji
Texas are situated west of the Pecos, with the exception of a few
foot-hills (.lomitas) which re-enter the State from Mexico near
lOagle Pass and follow the river to an undetermined point below
Laredo. The principal ranges are the Gu.ndalupe, Linipia, Chinali,
Los Chisos, Organ, and Franklin Mountains. They arc composed ■
■>{ older rocks, in most places ; the later formations have been
washed away, except where protected by eruptive flows. The most
eastern and northern of these mountains are usually the highest,
iluadalupe Peak is 9000 feet; Limpia Peak and 'the crest of the
Chinalis, from 3500 to 8000 feet ; Eagle Mountains, 7000 ; and
the interveifing valleys from 3.100 to 5000 feet: , Tlie low buttes of
the central region are miscalled mountains upon -most maps.
There are several well-defined escarpments extending for long
distances, approximately north and south The step of the first of
these, fr«n.Austin to Eagle Pass, is from 200 to 500 feet high, and
is the result of an elevation at the close of the early Cretaceous
period. Near the 100th meridian another escarpment occurs, and
along the eastern and southern borders of the Staked Plain still
another ^ The western part of the coast plain has a few low hills.
-The rest of the State has no notable prominences.
■ The mineral resources of Texas have not been mapped of studied,
and hence the State ranks last in mineral products. The trans-
I'ecos region is rich m silver and lead ores ; but the State owns tlto
miner.-'l rights of nearly all the land, and has hitherto declined to
open them to development Only one mine is worked here. Silver
and gold have also been discovered and mined \h Llano and Mason
counties, but without successful results. Gold occurs throughout
the marine limestones of the lowest (Texas) groufj of the Cretaceous,
but not in sufficient quanlily for profitable extraction. Rich but
not abundant copper ores occur in the drift of the gypsum country'.
Iron ore is found in the Tei tiary of eastern Texas, and is profitably
reduced in a few charcoal furnaces by the aid of convict labour.
At present these are remote fioni coal and suitable means of trans-
portation. Magnclic,irou ore ocruis^in the pic-Cambnan rocks of
Mason county, and recent .-m.-ilysrs show it to be equal in qualityto
the best Swedish ores. _It is in great abumlaiice, but remote from
means nf transportation and fuel. Ores of^ iron (spharo-siderite)
occur in the central Caiboiiiferous foruialioTC. but their con-merrial
value is unknown. The tion-mcthls orcui in great abundance in
different portions of the State, including salt, gypsum, magnesium
Milphate, natural cements, kaoUn, aad other clays. The unutilized
beds of maesive gypsum are, willi the excei'ttpn of those of the
Sahara and the Amies, tlia purest aiul most c\tf-iisive in the Wj'Id.
Salt is .gathered from l.icustral deposits or iniued at El Pftso,,
OloraJo City, and along the lower Gulf const for-local usee , IThe
coals' of the central Carboniferous area have been worked tosome
extent, but are generally of inferior quality, having from 50 to 70
per cent, of ash. Very recent discoveries of better quality have
boon reported. TelTiAry fibrous lignite, of light specific gravity, is
found in great abundahoiall along the junction of the coast plain
.iihI black prairie regions. ; It la Horked to a small extent, but
li.is no commercial value. The most Traportant coal aiea is the
toini- bituminous lignite belt of the trans-Pecos and lower Rio
<ir«ido regions, which is the direct geographical continiiaiioii ol
the late crctaceouj coals of Kew Mexico and Coioraoa It L
worked at Eagle Pass and Santa Toma, near Laredo. The beauti-
ful marbles and other ornamental stones of tlie State are UDtouched, ■
with the exception of the Llano county granite '
The amount and regularity of the rainfall decreases inland, the' :;iimat«
mean ann>:al varying from 62-3 inrljcs at Galveston to 13 at El'
Paso in the extreme west and 23 at Mobeetie in the extreme north.
The subjoined table gives the mean temperature and rainfall if
certain representative localities : —
Suiiou-'
Mean Preci
litation tii Inchcg. :
3 ~
Is
=5^
1
a
3
<
&
1'
Coast Plain.
,"!
Gilmer r.-.--.- .
133i>
8-03
11 -17
1003
ti-<^
Galveston ,.
70 02
i.' 0
Indianola «
7001
31 i
rslesline
tjj
4 to
Black frairie Jttffion.
Denison t-.-.-.- »\
600
C4 03
40 50
Austin ..-.■■ ,,
c:.o
C7S4
8f.l
7 ■,14
10-7)
1.23
■'.i-i1
San Antonio .. -...-.,.: .j-
000
CJ tfj
577
an
9-30
6 J2
31-30
Central Reijion.
Fort Belknap -..--.,
icoo
C-41
014
8 34
S-66
!6-i0i
,, Chatlbume ..... .
■:o:o
.'.77
6-53
7 06
3 '52
l!SS
,, -Griffin
4 ;o
6-2',
6 14
417
11 51
„ Clark .... ..... .
1000
4 11
7-57
6-55
4 '35
22 01
,, Duncan
3 >0
600
6-54
2-63
21-33
,, In^e
64 'j
i-3S
507
6-88
3-13
25 46'.
,, Mason
1200
c:if.
10 44
6-22
3!'0
28 -OS'
„ Mftkavet .
2060
5 40
6 71
7-la
4 22
23 51,
Plains Pegion.
Fort Elliott -
MC
23 M
„ Concho
63 6
30 ;'0
TroTis-Pecos Region.
1
El Paso
3630
632
13-00
Fort Stockton ^
4050
62-8
20 00
.. Davis , .
4700
59 8
20 38
The const plain and the black prairie regiona have abundant rain-
fall for agricultural purposes. It decreaaea, however, to the west,
and varies greatly in different years, sometimes being ample j but in'
18S5-86 it did not average 10 inches. The precipitation is also
very sudden, seldom lasting more than <i few minutes at a time.'
Only 52 pei cent of the 20 inches of rainfall in the central region
and west ol it falls in the agricultural season, one-lialf being in
sunimer an4 the remainder in autumn, so that it is equivalent to
only 15 inc^ea in regions where the rainfall occurs m' more pro-
pitious seasons. This condition is, however, especially favourable
for grazing. There are few statistics of the plains region ; but tlie
rainfall along its eastern escarpment is sli^tly greater and more
regular than that of tlic central region. The temperature vanes
greatly thronghout the State, both in extremes and means. Fort
Ringgold 01! the lower Rio Grande is the hottest point in the United
States, except Key West, Fla. Its mean temperature is 73 ^^ Fahr. ;
that of El Paso is 63°, and of Mobeetie 54 S". The .prevalent wihds
are southerly and. south-easterly, and blow constantly across the
State, without which its summers would be unendurable. The Rio
Grande valley is not subject to frosts. Snow seldom falls south of
GalvePton and Austin. In the Panhandle the winters are severe.*
The arboreal flora of Louisiana and Arkansas extends into north'-
eastern Texas, conformable with the coast plain, where, immediately
south of the Colorado river tho great pine belt of the Atlantic
and Gulf coasts tenninates. The flora of the great plains region,
principally consisting of nutritioos grasses, enters the north-westen;
portion of the State and extenils south to the 32d parallel and east
to the lOlbt meridian. TheY^fuliiT plants of the Rocky Moun-
tain plateaus penetrate into tlie tr.tns- Pecos region, while, the
north Mexican flora is found along^jTi^c "Rio Grande.- The cenlial
region is a transition ground where tiTcse flora.i find rypiesentation
generally in deteriorated and dwarfed species lu the co.ist pbni
occur the Tong and short leaf pine, wftji many species of oak and
hickory.' The black prairie region is destitute of trees, except
scattered individuals of live oak and the mesquite bush {Proscpis
gl^^lduhs^). The broad river valleys of this region, however, are
well-timbered with pecan, cypress, cottonwood, and several species
of oak, ami have a vigorous giowth of smuller shrubs. West "of the
black prairie region the dwarfed, stunted trees are of little'vali^c
except fur fuel. The river valleys have the saoje cliar-Totvi of tr*cs
as fiiithVr CHst, but the rocky liighlands ate i*Dvered xvitli^sci.TcjrV
bushes (I'liipaiial) of oak, juniper, and cedar The sunniiits^oj
the Ciiailalni'c and Limpra ranges, in the trans-Pecos le^rion.^i^
clothed with forests of the yeUow [Pt^nts jxnaUrosa), f\e\\h\c:[P'
fcxifls). and nut pine 'P cdulU), all of uhlcli attain gicat^si/e
Many smaller lircs gro^t oi; these niouiitains.^ The vnlleyssatu-
several of tlic ranges in The ia&t-naoicd icj:i<'H. lioupvci, air ilesti
tnte of trees The ciitlU Rio Gifiiidc \:\\\fy. from El Pmso tr
llrowusviI!c, grows many spencs of c.n ttut and othei pnckly. eori
aceoiis .shinhs. The uri^ssesof tlir St.itr .ire especially n.nnioi-ous if
species and .Tto rouiiti most luMiiuutly on ihe prairies of tho lower
Flora.
£ t -« /» 0 I f ^y () CAD
nttuiliatrtlicOCHMHl HOCKLEY
T "-^l cut?
J
lUBBOOK
- laaco I
! CBOSBvli) 0lVy<EN9 I ( t H
STp'NEW V
^^ I^Kbpi'sttflJieh ' c^v
TEXAS
205
Vtuiu^
Popolft-
liOD.
ei»at, t.i*r iieniral, ana tne (nains ivpions. '1 no lumber supply of
the State coraes entirely from the east Texas pine forests. The
cedar, juniper, and mc5»]uite are only utilized for fuel and fencing.
The black bear {Ursiis atnencatius), panther (Fetis coucolor),
and lyni (Felis m/a) are conimoD to all parts of the State. The
bison, wild horse, prongbuck (Aniitocapra atnfrtcana), coyote
(Canis laimns), grey wolf (C htpiis), eastern prairie dog {Cynomys
ludovicianus), and the lesser Mammalia of the great Rocky Moun-
tain plains constitute the fauna of the north-western part of the
State, reaching into the western part of the central region. Their
southern limit is approximately the 31st parallel. The highest
ranges of the trans- Pecos region possess the unique avian and
mammalian fauna of the Rocky Mountains, including the black-
tailed or mule deer {Cariacus macrotis) and Rocky Mountain sheep,
with ft few Mexican species. The lower valleys have a mingling
of the Mexican, Rocky Mountain, and great plain faunas. Along
the valley of the Rio Grande, and extending northward in places,
the subtropical fauna is Mexican, including the peccary {Dicoti/lcs
lorquatus), armadillo (Daryjma peba), jaguar {Felts onca), and
ocelot (Ftlis pardalia). Among the birds are the «cis3or-tail
(Uilvidtis for/icattu), Mexican eagle (Polybvnii cheriway),' cha-
parral cock lOaxxKcyx vialiais), and numerous other unique forms.
The fauna of the humid wooded coast plain istho southwestern
continuation and termination of that of the South Atlantic and
Oulf States, with slight variations, and includes the Virginia deer
{Cariaeui Uucuns), raccoon {Pioq/on lotor), opossum (Didclphys
virginiana), alligator, kc The black prairie region limits the last
named fauna on the west, except in its wooded river bottoms. The
central region possesses representatives of the great plains. Rocky
Mountain, Mexican, and Louisiana faunas, but none of them cross
it into other regions. It is a true transitional ground of most of the
faunas of all temperate North America, east of the Pacific slope.
The tot.il population in 1880 was 1,591,749 (837,840 males and
753,909 females), and in 1887 it was estimated to have risen to
2,415,000, giving 9'2 inhabitants to the square mile. Of the
population in 1880 1,477,133 were natives of the United States and
114,616 foreign bom. There were 393,384 Negroes, 136 Chinese,
992 Indians, and 43,00.0 civilized aborigines (Mexicans). Of the
entire population 522,133 persons were engaged in occupations as
follows : — in agricultura (including stock-raising), 359,317 (6S"8 per
cent) ; in law, medicine, and other professions, 97,651 (187 per
cent); in trade and transportation, 34,909 (67 per cent); in
manufacturing and mining, 30,346 (5'8 per cent). At the same
date there were 3153 prisoners, 2276 idiots, 1564 insane, 633 paupers,
1375 blind, and 771 deaf. 13*9 per cent, of the native whites, 247
of the foreigners, and 754 of the Negroes— or 29 7 per cent, of the
entire population — were unable to read or write. The population
of Texas has increased more rapidly than that of any State in the
Union except Kansas. The following table shows the increase for
the past few decades : —
Agricttl-
tur.i.
AhkIo-
Ameri-
can.
Ncjro
Desceot
Mexican
Ahorigal
Descent.
In-
dians.
Euro-
peans.
AEi-
atic
Total
Fopula-
tiOD.
Per
centiD-
crease.
1S.',0
1.3iO
1670
1830
Its?
4M,891
564.700
1,197,237
182,921
253.475
193,484
4S.'p00
403
' 379
992
C2;4ii
114.116
200,000
25
130
300
212,592
604.215
818.579
1.591,749
2,415,000
isV-s
35-4
94-4
94 4
The pipulation of the principal cities, according to the U.S^enstis
of 1S80 aad trustworthy estibiates in 1886, was as follows : —
1
1
ISSO.
I8S6.
Austin .-.,^....
Fort Worth ,^^ ,,,. .
Waco
Denison .V. ...s.
ISSO.
1SS6.
jOalveat^n
1 San Ant'^njo .^_„
iDallris ,av
iBoubton .«.
22,218
20,550
10.35S
16,113
30,000
35,000
32.000
23.000
11,013
6,663
7,295
8,975
23,000
23,000
20.000
12.000
94 per cent, of tlie tolal ])opulation of the. State is found east of the
central region — the black prairie region (northern halO being the
most densely populated, and the coast plain next.- Between 1880
and 18&7 there was a large flow of population into the trans-Pecos
and plains regions, and during the last two years mentioned a
dtcrcaae in the central legion. The population consists princi-
ptlly of white natives of the southern United States, except in the
counties of Brazos, Fort Bend, Harrison, Marion, Moore, and
Washington, where it is of Negro race ; in the counties of Fayette,
Colorado,^ Guadalupe, Comal, and Gillespie, where it is German;
and along the Rio Grande, where it is Mexican.
Of the- United States Texas now ranks first in the production of
cotton and cattle, second in sugar, sheep, mules, and horses, eighth
in rice and pigs. Tlio eastern third of the Sut«, containing 80
per cent, of the entire population, is agricultural ; the remainder
IS pastoral. The chief crops are cotton and Indian com ; wheat is
grown in the northern part of the black prairie and eastern part
of the central regions, sugar in the lower bottom lands of the Brazos
and the Colorado, rice on the coast The chief vegetable products for
IRfiO were— cotton. 805^34 ^al^a ; Indian com. 29.065,172 bushels :
wheat, 2.567,7a/ ; oaw, •j,aii.j,.*Dy . »ivit.t poiaiocs, l,4tiO,O70 ; Irifili
potatoes, 228,832 ; bariey, 72,786 ; rye. 2&,399 ; sugar, 49r.l Iiogs-
iieads; molasses, 810,605 gallon*:; bay, 69,699 tons; tobacco, 221,233
pounds; rice, 62.152 pounds; orchard products,, to the value of
SS76,8-H. The total value of these products was 863.076,311.'
Since 18S2 the quantity of cotton produced annually has exceeded
2,000.000 bales, of 500 pounds each. In 1S80 there were 17-1,184
farms in the State, with an aggregate of 12,GS0.3]4 acres of im-
proved land. The faiTns are usually of large size, and garden,
orchard, and" dairy products are entireJy secondary to plantation
crops. The southern i>art of the coast plain and the rest of the
State west of the blacK prairie region are peculiarly adapted tc
pastoral pursuits, which are entirely separated from agricultural,
the cattle and sheep being allowed to roam at large, or enclosed
in enormous pastures, whero they subsist without other food or
shelter than nature affords. In 1860 there were in the State—
4,084,605 cattle, 2,411,633 sheep, 1,950,371 pigs, 805,606 horses,
and 132,447 mules and asses. The sheep walks are more particu-
larly confined to the southern half of the centra! region, includmg
the lower Rio Grande valley.
The exports are cotton, wool, and liulcs, most of which ore Com
shipped from Galveston or sent overland by rail. The chief iin- mere*
ports are manufactured articles used in the State, nlso coal and
railway material. Apart from a small retail trade along the bonUr.
there are no exports to the adjoining States. The principal seaport
and commercial city is Galveston. The mileage in railways has
increased from 1048 in 1872 to 5974 in 1882, and tD 7034 in 18S6.
The founders of the State made liberal provision, by grants of Educi
land and revenue, for public education, but their Intentions have tioiw
net been carried out by subsequent legislation. Texas occupies the
aroraalous position of having the best school fund r.nd the pooresi
school system in the United States. The public free school system
proper consists of two normal schools for the preparation ol
teachers and numerous district schools, open for four months in
the year. In most of the cities the State iiind is supplemented by
local taxation, and excellent schools are maintained. In 1886
there were 489,795 children witliin school age. and the cost of the
maintenance of the whole system was $2,362,226. There are no
schools for secondary education, except the high schools of a few
cities The State university is at Austin ; it is abundantly endowed
with lands, but does not receive the full benefit of its revenues.
There is also a State ngricultural and mechanical college, but
technical training is made secondary
The State government dilfers somewhat from those of the fest of Adminl
the Union, owing to the fact that it has had to adapt itself to the.trrtioo
administration of the great pubKc domain, by which most of the
public institutions are supported and works of internal improvement
accomplished, and because much of the attention of the Govern-
ment lias been necessarily diverted to the protection of its exten-
sive frontier. The executive government consists of a governor,
comptroller, treasurer, commissioner of the general land office, and
superintendent of education, elected biennially, with an attorney-
general and a secretary of state, appointed by the governor. The
judiciary consist? of two courts of final appeal, one for criminal,'
the other for civil business ; forty itinerant higher courts for the
trial of penal offences and civil suits; courts for misdemeanour?
and minor civil cases in each county; and innumerable justices'
courts for first hearings. The legislature consists of 32 senators
elected for four years, and 1 1 5 members of the house of representa-
tives elected for two years. It is restricted by the constitution to
biennial sessions of ninety days each. The Sta.te is divided into
thirteen congressional and forty judicial election districts. It is
also divided into 232 counties, 75 of which have no population, or
insufficient population to be organized. Each county is divided
into four commissioners' precincts and a varying number of school,
election, and justices' precincts. The State nas always maintained
a corps of troops, formerly for protection against Indians, but now
for preserving order in the unorganized counties. It has institu-
tions for the blind, deaf and dumb, and insane. The prison
system is far superior to that of the other southern States, but
still very imperfect The bonded debt of the State on 1st Januarv"
1887 was $4,237,730, and its Uxable wealth $600,000,000. The
aggregate debt of all the counties and cities was $7,000,000. The
homestead and exemption laws are unusually liberal to the debtor.
The upper Rio Grande valley was visited in 1580-83 by the Uistor^
Spaniards, who established missions among the settled Indians
near EI Paso and Santa Fe. The first white settlement was made
by La Salle at Lavaca, on the' coast, in 16&5. The countr>' was in-
habited by Indians of various tribes, both savage and agricultural,
most of whom are now extinct, except the so-called " Mexican "
population of the Rio Grande. From 1583 to 1794 n:any missions
were established by Roman Catholic missionaries among the Indians,
whe were completely alienated from their original language, reli-
gion, domeatio babita, and tribal relations. After thu purchase of
Louisiana from the French in 1803 Anglo-American adventuren
began to cross into Texas from the United States. In 1821, vheo
Mexior* *>»rew off the Spanish yoke, Texas end CoaKnifa mnsdtnted
206
T E X — T E X
a state of the republic. It was shortly after this that the first
American colonists were permitted to enter the territory ander
Government patronage. Within ten years over 20,000 had settled
between the Sabine and the Colorado. In T830 the Medcan
Government placed them under military rule, from which, with
accompanying impositions, originated the war of Texan Independ*
ence. The Anglo-Americans were assisted by volunteers from the
Ur.ted States, and. the war was terminated by the defeat of the
tuexicans under General Santa Anna at San Jacinto, 21st April 1836.
S'rcm 183/' to 1845 Texas was an independent republic. It was
admitted to the United States on 29th December 1845, in spite of
♦be proix:sts of Mexico, and a war with that country immediately
jtsue:;. The new .State sold to the United States Government for
iSlO, 000.000 all the territory west and north of the present bound-
aries between the headwaters of the Rio Grande and the Arkansas.
But it reserved the control and disposal of the public lands within
its borders, which have proved a magnificent source of revenue, and
also the right to divide into five states, should future growth and
■development justify it. By a small majority the State seceded
from the Union in 1861. In 1868 a new constitution was adopted,
and the State readmitted into the Union. In 1874 tho Kiowa and
Comanche Indians, who had prevented the settlement of the central
and plains regions from the earliest times, were subjugated.
See HiII, Geoloj. Knowledge of Teiiis (18S7)— Bull. 44, V. A'. (Jeolog, Survey;
Geotogical Map oj the Uniifd States, by C. H. Hitchcock ; Report on cottoo
prtMluction, Tenth U. 3. Census, by Dr. E. H. Loughridge; forestry RcporU,
Tenth U. S- Census; Meiican Boundary Survey, vol. i.; Proceedings of Bmiiidary
Commission, Austin, 1886 ; Trans, of Apa/Umy of Sciences, St Louis, vols. i. and
ii. (Dr Shtitnard) ; Thrall, History of Tejas ; Kendall, Santa Fi Expedition ;
Spaight, Resources, &c., of Teias, Austin, 1882 ; Roeraer, Kreidebildungen von
Tex'iS, 1852; Walcott, Cambrian Faunas of N. Am^riCa—BviiV 30, V. 5. Geolog.
Survey ; Hill, " Topogr. and Geol. of Cross Timbers of Texas," in Amer. Jtnim.
Sci., April 1887; Cahe, Zoolog. Position of Texas; Marcy, Exploraiion qf Red
River; Report of the U. S. Mexican Boundary Sur^'ey; Havard, Report on the
flora of west and south Texas ; and U. S. explorations for a route for a Pacific
Railway. , (R. T. H.)
TEXTILES.' This word is applied to all fabrics which
are woven in a loom, of whatever material they may be
made, and whether tlie woven stuff be plain or figured.
The simplest and earliest process of weaving was managed
Method thus. The ground of the future stuff was formed by a
of weav. number of parallel strings called the warp, having their
"°^' - - upper ends attached to a horizontal beam and drawn taut
by weights hung from their lower ends. In -the early
Greek 'loom each warp thread had a separate weight (see
fig. 1). On the number of the warp strings the fineness
and width of the stuff depended. The strings of the weft
were interlaced at right angles to those of the warp, and
the combination of the two formed the woven stuff or web.
The vx/t was so called from its being " wafted " in and out
■of the warp ; it is al.^o often called the woof, though more
■correctly the woof is the same as the web or finished stuff.
The threads of the weft were wound round a sort of bobbin
on a pivot which was made to revolve inside a hollow
boat-shaped piece of wood pointed at both ends so as to
pass easily between the threads of the warp. This is
<»lled the shuttle. The thread passed out through a hole
in the side of the shuttle, the inner pivot revolving as the
thread was delivered between the strings of the warp. In
order to make the weft interlace in the warp some of the
npright strings were pulled forward out of the general
plane in which the warp hung ; this was done in the
simplest way by a reed, which divided the threads into
two sets called leaves and thus formed an opening called
the shred, through which the shuttle could pass, as shown
in fig. 1. Another way, applicable to more complicated
ornamental weaving, was to have a series of threads attached
to the warp at right angles, so that the weaver could pull
any of the warp threads away from the rest, thus allowing
the shuttle to pass in front of or behind any special warp
?t"ings. By a very simple mechanical contrivance these
(tireads were worked by a foot treadle, thus leaving the
weaver's hands free to manage the shuttle. ^^ In the
' This article deals mainly with the history of the textile art j for
practical information as to modem processes, see Weaving ; see also
Embroidert, vol. viii. p. 160 sq.
2 These dividing sticks are called in French "batons k deux"; in
the simplest kind of weaving only one is required. The use of
treadles and "spring staves" is more applicable to the low loom, in
which the warp is strained la a horizon^l nosition.
simplest sort of weaving first one and then the other haJf
of the warp threads were pulled forward, and so a plain
regularly interlaced stuff was woven. The next stage was
to make a cloth with coloured stripes, by using success-
ively two shuttles containing different-coloured threads.
In a chequered cloth the warp was made of two-coloured
threads stretched in successive bands, and the cross stripes
of the weft were woven in by the two shuttles. To form
a more complicated pattern the weft must not cross the
warp alternately: the design is formed by either the warp
or the weft predominating on the surface in certain places.
In all cases each thread of the weft must ixi driven home
to its place after each stroke of the shuttle. In the-
earliest times this was done by beating the weft with a
wooden sword-shaped implement' introduced between the
strings of the warp ; but later a heavy comVshaped tool
was used,^ the teeth of which passed between the warp
and drove home at one blow a longer length of the weft.
An upright loom such aa has been described is shown
clearly in some of the wall paintings from Thebes, dating
about 1600 B.C. and in other earlier ones from' Beni-Hasan.
A very similar loom is represented on a Greek va.se of
the 5th century B.C., with a picture of Penelope and tho
never-fini.shed piece of stuff (see fig. 1). In this interesting
Fio. 1. — Penelope's loom, from a Greek vase of the 5th century B.C.
The standing figure is that of Telemachus.'
painting the upper band has simple geometrical ornaments. Looms,
such as occur on archaic Greek vases; the neit has figures
of winged men and gryphons. This sort of loom is still
used in Scandinavian countries for tapestry.* Another
form has the warp threads stretched, not upright, but
horizontally, — an arrangement which is more convenient
for working treadles. These two forms are called in
French "la haute lisse"and "la basse lisse," — the high
and the low loom. The general principle is the same in
both. Fig. 2 shows a simple form of the "basse lisse,"
such as was used throughout the Middle Ages, except in
Iceland and in Scandinavia.' The clay whorls, or pierced
cones, decorated with simple painting, which have been
found in countless numbers on the sites of Troy, Mycenae,
and other prehistoric cities, were probably used to stain
the thread as it was being spun on the distaff.' OtTier
' Lat. spatha. * Lat. pecten ; modem English baitm or lay.
' See Mon. Inst. Arch. Rom., vol. ii. pi. 42.
' See the modem Faroese loom figured by Worsaae, A/bildninger
fra det k. Museum for Nordiskt Oldsager, Copenhagen, 1854, p. 123.
' A fresco by Pinturiechio — 911 in the National Gallery, London —
has a careful representation of the medixval low loom ; the subjKt
is the return of Ulysses to Penelope.
' Dt Schliemann found 22.000 in the plains of Troy alon*.
TEXTILES
207
♦leavier ones wire <.ni|>lo)cd to stretch the sirinj^j ot the
warj« ; this mcihtid must have been very inconvenient,
i$ the wliole warp couM suing to and fro. A very
obTJous inii"rovcinent, intro<Iuced in some countries at
an 'early date, 'was to have a second beam, round
which the lowcr-en.ls of tli'? wi-i. r,v ',! !, vn id.
In' Scandinavian
countries the, Use
of i weights icon
tinued till nio-lcrn
times. Ill the f.ite
loom of the sag.^s
these weights are
heroe6'3kulls,wlule
the shuttle is^a
sword.
1'..- Some simple
Jiistoria form of~«eaving
seems to have been
practised by pre
historic man at a
very early stage of
<<evelopment. Fig
3 shows an ex
nnple of coarse
flaxen stuff from
the lake-dwelliags
jf SwitEerland Fio. 2 — Msd.sevai low-warp loom, from a cut
ialinc from the •'>' •'"st Ammao: middle of tbe 16th century
Stone Age. Wool appears to have been the first sub-
stance used, as no skill is required to prepare it for spin-
ning. Weaving was speci
ally the duty of women,
and even in the Middle
.Ages in Europe it was, in
some countries, considered
a specially feroioine em
ploytnenl ' An early Chris-
tian sarcophagus in the
Lateran has a symbolica
relief representing God
condemning the future
world to labour, — tillag-e
for the man and weaving
for the woman — He gives
ears of corn to Adam and
a sheep to Eve ^'*^ ■* — t'r=;l'ii*.o.'.v^5Loi.c A.:v)riaxen
The Eg)T3tians were l'"1 ''"": » lake.d»«lling in
E?yi'"" famed for the beauty of ^-i^"'^''
their woven stuffs, and almost incredible stories are related
of the fineness of their linen, such as a pallium sent by
King Amasis to the Spartans, w'hich, Herodotus (ui. 47)
says, was mxde of yarn containing no less than SCO threads,
the figure"! woven on this were partly of cotton and partly of
gold thread Herodotus also mentions a wonderful pallium
sent by the same king to the shrine of Athene at Lindus
Few examples of the fine and richly ornamented sorts of
Egyptian stuffs now exist, though we have immense quan-
tities of tbf coarse linen in which mummies were w rapped
This, though coarse, is closely woven, and usually has in
every inch many more threads to the warp than to the
«<-fl ' A few fragments of Egyptian cloth of the XVHIth
E'ynaNty have been found with a border of coloured bands,
the blue of which is indigo and the red extract of Kermes
Aacieot
Im the Itme of St Louis (!3lh century) in France some sorts of
■^'aving. such a.s "tapissene S^racennis. were done only by men
' Some existing specicoena have in ea< h incli 152 threads in the
*irp and 70 in Ibe weft . ui modem stuff-* the proportion ls the other
•»»/ A coir-».|y woven piece of Egyptian stuff in the British M..cA,|fti
(•/ I! ) In Egypt linen w.-^^.spccially employed lor religious
purposes, such as priestly ind royal vestments, because it
harbours dirt le.ss than wool or cotton, which were also
worn by the Egyptians, and it was used to bandage
mummies, because it w'as thought not to engender worms.
Though priests were allowed to wear outer garments of
wool, they were obliged to put them off before entering
a sacred place.
The Phoenicians werecelebratcd for their weaving, as Phmny
for their skill in otlier arts. Their purple linen, dyed >^'^''.
with the mure.x, was specially valued , Tyre and Sidon
were the chief places where tliis was made Babylon,
Carthage, Saidis, Miletus, and Alexandria were all famous
s,eats of textile manufacture in the time of Herodotus
Though no specimens of Assyrian textiles remain, some Assyrim
notion of their richness of ornament and the styles of
their patterns may be gained from the minute rcpiescnla
lions of rich dresses worn by kings and other iniportan
personages in the^sculplurcd wall-reliefs from Nincvel
which are now in the Biitish Museum ' The stuff's .wor-
by Asur-banipal are most elaborate in design, being covcrei
with delicate geometrical patterns and diapers, with hoi
ders of lotus and other flowers treated wTth great dico'e
tive skill. A large marble slab from the same palace i
covered with an elaborate textile pattern in low relii f
and is evidently a faithful copy of an Assyrian carp-i
Still more magnificent stuffs are represented as be n,
worn by Assyrian captives on the enamelled wall-tiles f-on
Rameses II. 's palace (I4th centiTry d c ) at Telal V.aIiu Jiyt s
(see Pottery, vol xix p 603), the woven palternf. an
most minutely reproduced in their different coloin.-,, anc
the design, special to As'.yria, of the sacred tree betweei
two jjuardian beasts, is clearly represented, though on th', ;
most minute scale.
Our knowledge of Greek textiles, in the almost com-'Creetu
plete absence of any existing specimens,' is chiefl* de-
rived from the descriptions .of various classical authors
One indication of the patterns commonly used at an eariy'
period is given by the designs on much of the archaic
Greek pottery, which clearly has ornament derived fro'n
textile sources. Vol xix. p. 607, fig 16, shows examples
of these ; simple bands, chequers, and zigzags would natu-
rally be the first steps towards more elaborate patterns
Again, recent excavations at Orchomenus and Tirjns have
brought to light examples of ceiling and wall decoration
the motives of which are obviously derived from textile
patterns." A stone ceiling at Orchomenus has in relief o
carpet-hke paftern, and the painted wall-stucco of the
Tirj-ns palace has many varieties of coarse but effective
textile ornament. The poems of Homer are full of descrip-
tions of woven stuffs of the most magnificent materials
and design, used both for dresses' and for tapestry hang,
ings.^ In later times the most important examples of
rich woven work of which we have any record were certain
peploi made to cover or shade the statues ol the deiiie?
' A very magtuGcent royal dress, with woven pattenis of deities,
kings, animals, and the sacred tree, much resembling those on the
roetal bowls of Ass>Tia, is hgnred by Layarti, JJonum^nrs o/ As^t/na,
series 1. , pi IX
* One remarkable erample of Upcstry from a tonib Id the Crutiea
IS iupiKxsed by Stephaoi to dale fron ■ the 4th century B c . se*
O""/. /;.:».</ CV.ni Artl, , I.S70 (!>. p 40. il » ■ '
' /? . iM 125. VIII 288. l» 200. > If.ti. «iv 17S. iiii 440. Orf)
II 9.T. « 220. xiv 61. and m^ny pxssnges to books xviii to xt\
Homer describes (Orf . xix 22.'j 23.'.) a rlortli of puq.l" wool with t
bunting .scene In gold thread, wovvd by Penelope for l'I>s.ses
« // , ivi 224. xiiv 2.10. 645 . 0.1 . le 124, 298. m 33'. Many
Greek vases, especially those with blatk fig\)re> ar.d inri.sed li.ie.«. have
rt;[.re.senlatinns of rich woven dre.'vses. — r g . a,, an)).hora in the ValicoD
with Achilles and Aj.n playing at a gan.e liLr draughts, c 4G0 RC
A rather later va.sp in the Bnti-^h ^1ll^4■tlm ha.-i n rne hgure of Dcmet«r
' l.od in a palhuai covered Willi hgurcj} of cha'i-.ils and x'loged mtD
208
TEXTILES
at Athwis, 01yaip)%" Ddphi, and other famorisSsHriiies.i
Euripides (Ian, Iiil-1162) gives a glowing description
5f a, peplos which , belonged to the temple of Apollo at
Delphi, on which was depicted the. firmament of heaven,
with Apollo Helios in his chariot, surrounded by the chief
stars and constellations. At Athens a new peploa, orna-
mented with the battle of the gods and the giants, wais.
woven for the gold and ivory statue of Athene in the
Parthenon every fifth year, and was solemnly carried in
procession at the greater Panathensea, Similarly at Olym
pia a new peplos was woven by sizteen women, and dis-
played every fifth year at the Olympian games in honour
of Hera, It appears probable that these magnificent
peploi were not used as garments, which would have partly
concealed the splendour of Phidias's gold and ivory statues,
but were suspended over them like a mediaeval baldacahino.
Very possibly, however, most of the elaborate work on them
was embroidery done by the needle, and not loom or tex-
tile work.
Ruarn The Komans under the late republic and the empire
possessed immense stores of the most magnificent textiles
of every descfiption, such as the splendid collection of
tapestry which Rome inherited along with the other art
treasures of Attalus 11. of Pergamum (2d cent. B.C.). A very
costly cloth of gold was called by the Romans "attAlica,"
after Attalus. The C. Cestius who died about the middle
of the Ist century B.C., and who is buried in the existing
pyramid in Rome^ left orders in his will that his body
was to be wrapped in certain attalica; but, as this was
forbidden by a sumptuary law, his heirs sold the gold stuff
ind with the proceeds had two colossal bronze statues
made, wWc^ were set outside the tomb The feet of
db& of these have been found with an inscribed pedestal
recording the above-mentionqd facts. The size of the
statue shows that the attalica must Jiave been worth a
very great sum. Examples of large prices given by Romans
for woven stufis are recorded by Pliny {H.N^ viii. 48) :
Metelltts Scipio bought' some hangings from Babylon for
600,000 sesterces, and other similar stuffs were bought by
Nero for four millions of sesterces -(about £3360). Costly
tapestry from Babylon is mentioned by Plautus (Stick., XL,
ii. 54), Silius Italicus (xiv. 658), and Martial (xiv> 150).
Virgil (Gear., iii. 25) mentions woven tapestries with figures
of Britons being used at theatrical shows : I Purpurea
'itexti toUant aulaea Britanni." Otter tapeetries with
scenes from the story of Theseus and Ariadne are mentioned
by Catullus (Argon., xlvi. 267).^ On a very remarkable
'example of late Roman stuff found at Sitten (Sion) .jn
Swtzcrland is woven a gracfeful figure of a nymph seated
on a sea-monster, among scroll-work of foliated ornament,
purely classical in design.' A large quantity of very remark-
able woven stuffs has recently been found in tombs at
Ekhmin (Panopolis) in Middle Egypt. More than 300 pieces
have been bought for the South Kensington Museum. They
are of various dates, apparently ranging from the 4th to
the (Hh or 7th century a.d. The earliest are of purely
classical style : some have badly designed but very de-
corative figures of pagan deities, with their names in Greek
— e.g. Hermes and Apollo ; others have figures driving
chariots drawn by two centaurs, or marine gods, or long
bands of animals — bears, lions, stags, ducks, and many
others. These are used to decorate linen tunics or pieces
of stuff about 2 feet square. The later examples appear
to be Coptic vestments of various shapes, and are decor-
' See De Ronchaud, -U Piplm d'AthhU, Paris, 1872, and La
Tapisserie, Paris, 1885. The treasuries of most Qr«ek temples appear
to have contained laj*ge stores of rich woven stuffs. ,
' See also Hor.^&(., ii. 9i 102-6 ; Ovid, Mei<vn7, vt; and l/ucr.,
V. 1026..
:' Thu'fragmenl'lB illustrated br MUuO, iM TamsseTit,t,Pfiii,
im, p. 63.
ated with rude figures of St George »ud other Oriental
saints, each with a nimbus. These ornaments are done by
tnje itapestry weaving, the weft pattern being in brilliantly
coloured wools on a flaxen warp. In eom^ cases the
colours, especially the magnificent reds and blues, are as
bright as if they were new. Though in all cases the figure
drawing is rude, the decorative value is very great.
From the 6th tij the 13th century Byzantium became Byraiu
the capital of all the industrial arts^and in none is its ""*•
Influence more obvious than in thai of weaving. "^ There
the a^ts of ancient Oreece and of old Rome met and were
fused with the artistic notions of ancient Egypt, Assyria,'
Persia, and, Asia Minor, and tihis combination produced a
fresh and very active art Bpirit, which for many centuries
dominated the whole civilised world. As regards weaving,
this new development was strengthened by the introduc-
tion of silk int^ Europe in the reign of Justinian, and
many specimens flf early silk fabrics kava lasted down to
the present time, partly, through their beJflg safe against
mothf. The silken stuffs found in the tombs of Charle-
magne and other kings, though perhaps not themselves as
early as the 6th century, show one class of design used in
Byzantium in the time of Justinian. Some of these com-
bine the igure-subjects of ancient Rome with the stronger
decorative beauty of the East. Chariot races in the circus,
consuls and emperors enthi'oned in state, gladiatorial fights
with lions, and other classical subjects occur, arranged in
medallions or wreaths, set in close rows, so as to fill up
'the ground. Again, mixed with these classical scenes ara
designs of purely Assyrian origin, such as the sacred tree,
between two guardian beasts, closely resembling the designs'
of 2000 B.C. The manufacture of these rich fabrics waa
carried on, not only in Byzantium, but also in many
towns of Greece proper, such as Athens, Thebes, and
Corinth, all of j
which were .< spe- r
cially famed for '
their silk textiles.
During the same fJSBSf^iiF^ri^jW^SfiSBLS^lS^n'-iy^fjf^if^^ Peralam.
time, the ^|h to '
the 12th century,
Baghdad, Damas- 1
cus, Ispahan, and ]
many other towns (
in Persia and Syria ]
were producing
woven stuffs of the j
,rioh6St materials <
and designs; names :
of reigning caliphs '
arc sometimes (
mingled with Ar-
abic sentences from '
the Koran and '
other sacred books,
which are intro- '
duced freelyamong
the intricate pat-
terns with the most
richly decorative effect. By this means some existing speci-
mens of the 8th to th6 10th century can be dated.; Fig. 4
shows a 16th-century example of the finest Persian damask
in silk and gold, — a masterpiece of textile design
According to the usual story, Roger of Sicily, who in Sicilian:
1 1 47 'fijado a successful raid on the shores of Attica'ahd
took Athens, Thebes, and Corinth, carried off as prisouers
a numl)er' of Greek weavers, whom he settled, at Palermo
and made the founders of the royal factory for silk weav-i
ing.' This story is doubtful, for the Saracenic inhabitants
of Sicily had apparently been producing fine silken stuffs
Flo. 4. — Persi.in damask lu silk and gold.
(South Kensington Museum.)
TEXTILES
209
long before tho 12tk century. In part, however, the
siorj- rany be true ; certaiiily an impetus was given to the
weaving industry of Palermo in tlie I2tli century, and for
about two centuries Sicily became the chief seat in Europe
for the production of the finest woven stuffy A largo
number of examples of these beautiful fabric^ still exist,
showing an immense variety of designs, all of which are
imagined with the highest decorative skill, — perfect mateter-
pieces of textile art, combining freedom of in%'ention and
grace of drawing with that slight amount of mechanical
stiffness Wiich is specially suited to the retiuirements of
tho loomij One of the earliest existing s|)ecimens, which
shows the existence of the fabritiue before the lime of
Koger I., is a piece of silk stuff in which the botly of St
Culhbert^'ic Purham was wrapped when his relics were
translated in 1104 ; this was found at the opening of his
grave in 1S27, arid is now preserved in Durham cathedral
library. The figures woven on it show an interesting com-
bination of Western and Oriental art. ' Birds and conven-
tional ornaments of purely Eastern style are mingled with
designs- taken from late Roman mosaics, — the whole
being blended with great skill into a highly decorative
pattern' The Sicilian silks of tho 12th to the Htli ccn
tury were aiostly used for ecclesiastical vestments, altar
f rentals, and the like; and tlie fact th.-xt examples have
survived in almost all countries of Europe shows how im-
|)ortant and far-reaching a trade in them must once have
been carried on. The favourite designs were the sun
breaking through a cloud from whence rays of light arc
issuing, or conventionally treated ships, fountains, island.s,
castles, and an immense variety of birds and beasts, such
as swan?, mallards, eagles, lions, cheetahs, hounds, giraffes,
sntelopesi and others. Some specimens have siren like
female forms, with Uoaling hair, casting nets, leaning down
from palm trees, or issuing from shells. Others, rather
bter in stjie, have
winged angel like
figures. In many
cases the Assyrian
sacred tree and its
guardian beasts oc-
cur, and very fre
qaently borders
with sham Arabic
letters are intro-
duced,— a survival
of the time when
real sentences were
woven into the fab-
rics of Persia and
Egypt, probably in
tended as a visible
sign that the stuff
was the genuine
product of Sara
cenie looms. All
these are perfect
masterpiecesof tex- ^'*^- ^- — ^'-i--^^ sil^ strLffjrfths 13tb century,
.■1 _r ' J , in St Mary a.chuicti, Dalilzic.
tile art, and have '
never since been rivalled either in'beantyof design or in
skilful iLse of gold and colours. ■ Fig. 5 shows a character-
istic example ; another copied from a painting is given
under Moral Decoration^, vol. xviL p. 46, fig. 15.
In the 14th century the chief centre of fine silk weaving
was transferred from Palermo to Lucca, Florence, Milan,
Venice, and other towns in northern Italy, and a different
class of design, less rich in fancy, but scarcely less beautiful
in effect, oame into vogue. The designs of these 14th and
' See Rainc, SaitU Cuthifrt, Durham, 1S28, p!ate i» ; in his tert
Qie ftnthor ia wholly wrong as to iht prfroenanu of these siufT^
23—10
15th cencury textiles were chiefly, conventional adaptations
of natural foJiage and flowers, arranged with great beauty of
line and wealth of de- !
corative effect , among ;
the most beautiful is '..
scroll - work of vines ^
with graceful curving)
lines of leaf and ten-
dril. An extremely
rich design, largely '
employed throughout :
the loth centurj', was \
made from the arti-
choke plant,^ and wa^ 1
especially used for the \
rich " cut " velvets of 1 (^
Genoa, Florence, and j.f_
Venice, in which the i
|alti:rii is foiincd in 't
relief by pile raised '
above pilc,niixcdwilh ;
Solil ' (-■iCC fig G and ,l|
vol xvii p 4G, fig
14). At this time i^
Venice contained a js
large number of Ori
ciital !.raftsiiien in all pm. « _ c.no, si- or hlnni.tniL- vti^et of
the indubtrial arts, silk ami col.l , l5Ui cennry
and very beautiful stuffs were woven there with designs
of mingled Oriental and Italian style, — probably the work
of Mohammedan weavers (see fig. 7).
&.€£L» «
Fic 7 — Silk stuff of Oriental design» woven at Venice in the lolb
century. (South KensinglOD Museum.)
In all these Oriental, Sicilian, and early Italian stuffs GoW ,
gold thread is used in a very lavish and effective way. It tb»^'>
was made very skilfully, the richest effect being produced
with little metal by thickly gilding fine vellum skins with
gold leaf ; the vellum was then cut into very thin strips
' This is usually called tbe pine-apple pattern ; but it was invented
long before the discovery of America had introduced the piae-auple
into Europe.
' Italian and Flemish pictures of the Klh to the 16th century often
give most valuable representations of rich textiles ; see Vacher,
Fifteenth CerUury Halian Ornament, London, 1 SS6, s series of coloured
I'lates of textiles la^eu from Italian pictures.
xxm. — 27
210
TEXTILES
and wound round a thread of silk or hemp so closely as to
look like a solid gold wire. In and since the loth cen-
tury gold thread has been made by twisting a thin ribbon
of gilt silver round a silken core. In this way much less
gold is required, as the silver ribbon is gilded before being
drawn out to its final thinness, and it is thus liable to
t.trnish, owing to the iwrtial exposure of the silver surface.
In classical times attalica and other gold stufTs were ratBde
of eolid gold wire beaten out with the hammer.' Masses of
this fine gi)ld wire- have been found in the tombs of Egypt,
(ireece, aiid Etruria, the metal having lasted long after
all the rest of the .ituff had crumbled into dust. In 1544
the grave of the wife of Honorius was opened and 36 lb
of gold thread taken out of it and melt«d.
OcU Throughout the Middle Ages cloth of gold was largely
doth. employed for eccle.'iiastical and royal pur|)0se8. In some
cases the whole of the visible surface was formed of
gold thread, producing the utmost splendour of effect.
Westminster Abbey still possesses a magnificent gold
cope of the 15th century, in almost perfect brilliance of
preservation. In the 13tliand Utii centuries Cyjirus and
Lucca were specially famed for tlitir gold stuffs, and the
royal inventories of France and England slio* that the
kings i>osse.sscd stures of this to an immense value.~,The
enormous sum of £11 a yard ^ is recorded to have been
given for a "cloth of estate" in the private accounts ot
Henry VII. This was a clotli to liang over the royal
throne, and must have been unusually wide, as.otlier cloth
.if gold at the .s-inic time was bouylit for 3Ss. the yard.
Various names were at different times given to textiles
)A(hich were wholly or m part woven in gold, such' as
cicliitoun (a word of obscure origin), liaujrkiii (^loui Ral-
dak or J'aghdail), vulr, and /ixfiir.* .S>nniJr.OT iri'luiile (t^
(iiVoi) was so calleil because the weft tlirciils were only
caught and looped at every sixth thrcail of the warp, lytng
loosely over the intermediate part. Mediaeval samite wse
sometimes maile of gold; if of silk it was a variety of
satin, called s^ilin of six. Modci'n satin usually has its
weft looped in less closely — s^iiin ••/ rii/lu or tm.
EBglL5h Although throughout the Middle Ages the finer stuffs
used in England were to a great extent the product of
foreign looms, there was no lack of native textiles, many
of which were of great beauty. In the use of the needle
the woinen'^of Engl.and were especially skilful, ahd rich
English embroideries were much exported, even into Italy,
from the 12th to the 14th century,^ and were esteemed
more highly than the' productions of any other country.
Two fine examples of early English silk and gold needle-
work— a stole and maniple with th« inscription Aetflxd
fieri pirrfjut ■ p\o rpu^o/X) Frtihstnnn — are prcserve<l in
the Uinham library Kndcslan liccame bishop of Win-
chester in 005. Other examples of native textiles have
been found in the cofiins of many ecclesiastics in England.
Some interesting fragments are preserved in the chapter-
house of Worcester cathedral ; the ground is of silk, and
the pattern, of conventional scroll foluige, is a character-
istic example of l3iliH.tnlury ftcsign. Pictures in English
MSS. sliow that the low loom was mainly used. — thi.t
being the most convenient for ordinary weaving." England
* Tlie process of m.tking wire by «]rnwiitg it through conic.il apcr*
tnre.*! in .t vteel pbtc i^ Nniil to hnve tx»n UrsX invented at Nuremberg
in the 14th century.
* The Musco Crvyori.ino(V.ilicnn) imnL-tin^ exumple?* from Etniscan
t/'Hibs. ' K.|ir.il to riuilc £.')0 of nif-lcni money.
* Hence thin paper laiil between the foM^ of these ncli sliifTR to
pTOlect Ihein wan ciTle*! tt.tsn/f paper.
' The reh bnnci co|ie in Picnza cathedral, which once helongc<l to
Piu» II- (Piccoloniini), is a.m.ignificent example of EnglisU needle-
work of the 15th century.
* Anions ChiiiceV'!! pil^rtms are included *' A webbe, a dyer, nnri a
tapiK^er." the liiTl a low. loom weaver, the Ix'^l a weaver of tapesiry
OD the high loom.
was specially celebrated' for its wool and woollen stuiTn
and even at the present day English wool is used for the
Gobelin tapestries ; in the 15th :'.nd 16th centuries it waa
largely imported into Flanders. In 'the 14th centur}' Bath
produced the finest woollen cloth, and that of Worcester
was equally celebrated ; in the 1 5th century the produc-
tion of woollen stuff was a great source of wealth to
Noiwich and other towns in the eastern counties. A
special sort of woohen yarn took its name from Worstead
in Norfolk, where it -was made ; it had a closer and harder
twist than most woollen thread, and thus could be made
up into cloth of special fineness, which was used frtr
chasubles and other vestments, as is recorded in the in-
ventories of York, Exeter, and other cathedrals.
Old English A'ameJi for Talilcs. — A large number of names' for 01.1
different sorta of textiles occur in old English writings, many of Ei.^lial»
th£ni derived from the name of the place where the etufl" was made Ui'irtes.
or exported. Buckram was a woven cloth of much richness, highly
prized, probably quite unlike what we now mean by the woiJ.
Damask or damas got its name from Damascus. Fustiaii, from
Fostat (OldQairo), waa a cheaper stutf made of linen and cotton
mixed. Muslin, from Mosul, was a fine cotton stuff, CloOi of^
Tars (Tarsus) is often mentioned, usually meaning a purple cloth.
Camoca or camak (Arab katnkhn, from Chinese kimkha, '* brocade ")
was aiiolbcr richly decorated Oriental stuff. Cnidal or sandal and
srrndotnis were line silk stuffs. Tajfda was made of silk or linen
of very thin substance. Satin (from Low Lai. seta) was a glossy
silk stuff nndc- like samite. Velr-cl (from IL vclluto. "sliai.'gy '')
had a silk weft woven so as to form a raised pile, the ends of \niich
were ciit or shaved off to one even level ; hence il- is also called
in Italy raso. Diaper, "jasper-like" (Ital.* rfia.7>ro), was not only
used to denote a regular geometrical p-^ttern; but in some cases
means also a special sort of linen or sUk. Phrases such as ''silk
ol*brydjies" (Urujjfs), "silk dornex," from Domeck in Flanders,
and **Nhccu> of ^tiyiics" (Kheinis) often occur. A large nninbci of
other similar nantca arc to be met with in medireval wniings.'
Space will not allow a^lescription of the textile work inOth^j
eadi separate- country-. That of Italy and the East was"^?^''*'
by far the most iinporuint throughout the Middle Ages, modem
Even Chiiie.se textiles of gold and silk were imported intob'P';^
the west of Europe, and were sometimes used for ccch'sias- .
tical purposes. Media;val vestments of Chinese stuff still
exist, the shape and added borders of which show that
they date from as early as the 14th century. These
fabrics exactly resemble in design and workmanship some
which are woven in China at the present day. A very
interesting survival of flie media.Taistyle of weaving exists
in Sweden and other Scandinavian cotmtncs. Articles of
dress, counterpanes, table-covers, and the like are woven
by the peasantry in a simple, highly decorative way, witk
Kio. ^. — Indian hill loom, as still used.
patterns which have altered little during the Jast tlireo
or four centuries. • Though coarse in texture, many of these
are of great artistic beauty; nothing but an occisuni.tl use
' The most extraordinary sp-^lUng often oeniri. in lists of textile* in
niedia-v^l docninents, e»iieci.'\Ily in ihc else of foreign n.nnicjs. Thin*
"e find in the Bnry Wills (prinlcd by the Cani.lcn Society) " tuschan
*i> Appulei)," meaning Naples fustLin, ami many simitir Itlunderv.
TEXTIi^ES
211
of barsh colours shows any sign of decadence of style.
Strong marks of Oriental influence are visible in these
fine patterns, but the method of weaving is purely native,
— probably very like what the edicts of Louis IX. call
"tapisserie nostrcz." Very beautiful fabrics are still pro-
duced in India, old designs being followed, and woven in
the simplest form of loom. Fig. 8 shows an example of
a modern Indian loom used by the hill weavers. In such
looms the richest materials, such as gold and silk, and
the most elaborate patterns are woven, often by travelling
weavers who can set up their whole apparatus in a very
short tmie.
Caepets.
Oirpeta- Carpet weaving was essentially an Oriental art, and
was the natural product of a dry mudless country, where
little furniture was used and the shoes were removed on
entenng a building. Till the 16th century carpets were
almost unknown in France and England, except for royal
personages and for the sanctuaries of cathedrals and im-
portant churches. In the latter case they were usiully
laid in front of the high altar, and thus carried on to the
floor the richness of colour which ornamented the walls
and vault. Oriental carpets frequently occur in cathedral
inventories among the other rich treasures of foreign or
native make which adorned the building. They were first
employed in England for domestic purposes by Queen
Eleanor of Castile and her suite, in the latter part of the
13th century. In the palaces of Spain they were intro-
duced much earlier, owing to the preseuce of the Moors in
southern Spain. In many cases they were used for wall
hangings, and the- smaller ones to cover tables and other
furniture, as is represented in many 15th-century Italian
pictures. Though few examples of Oriental carpets exist
earlier in date than the 1 5th century, yet the manufacture
was carried on in the highest state of perfection centuries
before. An example oi the l4th century is preserved in
a private collection at Vitnna ; it was originally made as
a. hanging for the Kaaba at Meeca.^ These beautiful
Oriental pile carpets are among the most perfect produc-
tions of the weaver's art, and till the 16th century were
masterpieces r.( design and splendour of colour. Usually
they were woven of wool or of camels' or goats' hair, with
a separate wai p and weft of flax ; but many magnificent
carpets were also made of silk mixed with gold thread.
This extravagance of luxury produced an effect, at least
as regards the use of silk, but little superior to that of
fine wool or camel's hair, as the special beauty of the
silken gloss is seen on the sides, not on the ends of the
silk thread. Pile carpets are woven in a very different
way from ordinary textiles : short tufts of wool or silk
are knotted on the warp so that the ends of the threads
which form the pattern project, and these are cut down
by shears to a uniform surface, thus forming a sort of
textile mosaic. Each row is firmly fixed by a shoot of
linen weft-thread thrown across the web, and th'eS carefully
beaten down with the batten.
Various classes of ornament occur in these magnificent
Oriental carpets ; one variety has stiff geometrical patterns,
the motives of which appear to be taken from mosaics or
tiles. Another and still more beautiful sort, manufactured
especially at Ispahan (See fig. 9), has elaborate flowing
designs of flower forms, sometimes mixed with figures of
cheetahs, lions, antelopes, and birds, in a few cases com-
bined with human figures. Mr W. Morris, in his valuable
lecture on textile fabrics (London, 1884), traces three stages
of design, — first, a pure flowing style, closely resembling the
early stucco mural reliefs of Cairo ; secondly, a similar-
style blended with animal forms; and thirdly, a purely
' See Karabacek, Die pirsische Naddnuilerd Susandschird £:■!
Ouir. Monatsch. f. d. Orkn!, 1881, p. 49, with cut.
floral style, flowing in its lines and very fantastic and
ingenious in its patterns ; this last he thinks belongs to
Fig. 9. — Persian pile carpet of the 15tb century, woven of goata'
hair and silk. (South Kensington Museum.)
about the time of Shah Abbas, and lasted from about 1550
to 1650, — the culminating period of Oriental art.^ Sinco
then there has been a distinct degradation of style, though
in many cases older patterns have been worked from and
very perfect work produced. At the present day the influ-
ence of European ta?te is rapidly destroying this survival
of the best class of design, and especially is introducing
the most harsh and discordant colouring in place of the
glorious rich hues of the earlier Oriental weavers.
Though no existing specimens can be pointed out, it
appears probable that the " tapisserie Saracenois '' of Louis
IX.'s edicts (1226-1270) refers to pite earpets made by
French weavers after the Oiiental fashion.^ The same
edicts for the regulation of the textile industry mention
two other classes of manufacture, " tapisserie <i la hauto
lisse," I.e., what we call tapestry, and " tapisserie nostrez,"
" native stuff," probably resembling the coarse but effective
patterned fabrics for aprons and dresses which are still
woven by the peasantry near Rome, in the Abruza moun-
tains, and elsewhere in Italy, and in Scandinavia.
Tapestry.
The making of tapestrj- (Gk. raTnj?), like the weaving Tapestr
of pile carpets, differs froiv ordinary fabric in that no
visible weft is thi .wn completely acro-ss the loom, but ' the
^ A valuable help tow.irds est.iblishing the dates of carpet patterns
given by many medieval Italiau pioture-s, in which Oriental carpets
Pre often represented with wonderful minuteness an.l appreciation,
' Tapisserie in French means ell sorts of patt'^med stuffs.
212
TEXTILES
design is formed by short stitches knotted acrosa the warp
with a wooden needle called a broach. It is a sort of link
between textile work and embroidery, from which it differs
in having its stitches applied, not to a finished web, but
to tlie stretched strings of a warp.' It is made on a high
loom, and the whole process, though requiring much skill,
is meelianieally of the simplest kind. It is very probable
that many of the woven hangings used in ancient Egypt,
Greece, and other countries were true tapestry ; but little
is known on this point. Till after the 12th century, in
northern Europe, embroidery seems to Lave served the
place of tapestry, as, for example, in the wrongly named
Bayeux tapestry (see vol. viii. p. 162) ; while in the south
of Europe and in Oriental countries its place was supplied
by the rich silken textiles and pile carpets mentioned above.
rJcmUh. In the l4th century tapestry began to be largely made,
especially in Flanders, where the craft of weaving became
very important at an early time. The designs on the very
few existing samples of 1 4th-century tapestry closely resem-
ble those of contemporary wall painting. A characteristic
early specimen in the Louvre has rows of medallions, each
containing a scene from the life of St Martin, with two or
three figures treated in a very simply decorative way. The
spaces between the circles are filled up with a stifif geo-
metrical ornament. To the end of the 14th century be-
Ipngs the magnificent tapestry in Angers cathedral, on
which are represented scenes from the Apocalypse ; these
were made at Arras, the chief seat of the tapestry manu-
facture, both for quantity and quality. Hence the name
arras (Italian arazzi) came to mean any sort of tapestry,
wherever it was made. Another magnificent scries of
arras work is preserved in Rheims cathedral, with designs
from the history of Clovis ; these date from the middle of
the 15th century. In the 14 th century Flanders produced
enormous quantities of woven stuffs. At that time twenty-
seven streets were occupied by the weavers of Ghent; in
1 382 there were 50,000 weavers in Louvain ; and at Ypres
there is said to have been a still larger number. From
about 1450 to 1500 was the golden age for tapestry,
especially in Bruges and Arras, where large quantities of
the most magnificent historical pieces were woven from
designs supplied by painters of the Van Eyck school. The
Flemish tapestries of that time are perfect models of textile
art, rich in colour, strong in decorative effect, graceful in
drawing and composition, and arranged with consummate
skill to suit the exigencies of the loom and the aesthetic
requirements of wall decoration. A very beautiful example
of this class exists at Hampton Court, hung in the dark
under the gallery in the great hall, — a striking contrast to
the clever but artistically degraded tapestries of half a
century later, which hang round the main walls of the
hall. Other fine examples exist in the Cluny, Bern, and
other museums, and especially in Madrid^- — in the royal
collection and in that of the duke of Alva — and elsewhere
in Spain. Though very rich and varied in effect, the
tapestry of the best period usually is woven with not more
than twenty different tints of wool, — half tints and grada-
tions being got by hatching one colour into another. In
the ICth century about sixty colours were principally em-
ployed in the still fine but rapidly deteriorating tapestry
• In tapestry tho weft stitches are put in loosely ami carefully
pressed home, so that the warp strings are completely hidden.
■ ' See Riario, Taiicstrij of the Palace, ill Madrid, London, 1S75 ; of
nll^countries Spain is the richest in tapestry of tho IStli and IGth
ccuturie.s. Tim royal collection contains 2000 largo pieces. Rich
stores also belong to the principal cathedrals, snch as Toledo, which
on the feast of Corpns Christi is completely Iiung round with tapestry
uutside as well as inside. In the 17th century tapestry looms were
worked in Spain under royal patronage. One of Velazquez's linest
pictures iu llie Madrid Cailery (Las Hilanderas) represents tho visit
of some court hulie:. to a tapestry f.tbi ifjue, iu which women are work-
ing the looms.
of that period ; and ia the laborious but artistically worth-
less productions of the Gobelin factory more than 14,000
differently tinted wools are now used.
In the 16th century the art began to decline ; very slight
symptoms of decadence are visible in the beautiful tapestries
with Petrarch's yj-iMm/j/is in the South Kensington Museum,
— most gorgeous pieces of textile art, of the richest decora-
tive effect. . These were worked very soon after 1500 (see
fig. 10). The influence of Piaphael and his school succeeded
i n^mujmwww
Fio. 10. — Figure of Lucretia from the Triumpli of Chastity, woveu
at Brussels about 1507. Her dress is an Italian velvet, similar
in stylo to that shown in fig. 6.
that of the 15th-century Flemish painters, and was utterly
destructive of true art value in tapestry. Raphael's car-
toons, fine as they are in composition, are designed without
the least reference to textile requirements, and are merely
large pictures, which the weavers had to copy as best they
might. This new style, which reduced the art to a feeble
copy ism of painting, gave the death-blow to the produc-
tion of really fine tapestry. Brussels became the chief
])lace for the manufacture after the taking of Arras by
Louis XI. in 1477, and its weavers with wonderful skill
imitated any sort of painting that was put before them.
Cartoons were drawn by several of Raphael's pupils, such
as Giulio Romano and Giovanni da Udine, and by Mabuse,
Michicl Coxcie, Bernard van Orley, and other Italianized
Flemish ])ainters.
In 1539 Francis I. founded a factory for tapestry at Frt:;cli.
Fontainebleau, and soon after other higTi looms were set up
in Paris, examples from which still exist and show a rapid
degradation of style. In 1603 a new factory was started
in Paris under royal patronage, in the workshop of a family
of dyers named Gobelin, after whom the new factory was
named (see Gobelin). The Gobelin looms were first
worked by weavers from Flanders, who soon taught the
T E Z — T E Z
213
mysteries of the craft to a number of French workmen.
Cartoons wers supplied by Simon Vouet and other distin-
guished French painters. In the reign of Louis XIV. a
Teat impulse was given to the factory, and from 1667 the
whole establishment became the property of the crown.
IXHiis XrV.'s minister, Colbert, did much to encourage
this and other industries. Charles Le Briin the painter
was made director of the works, and a number of artists
prepared the cartoons under his supervision. In the 18th
century Coypel, Jouvenet, Boucher, Watteau, and many
other popular painters made designs, often of great size
and elaboration, for the Gobelin looms, but all in the very
worst possible taste ; these include large series of sacred,
mythological, -and historical subjects, landscapes, sea-pieces,
and even portraits, — the last being perhaps the most rid'cu-
lous misuse of the textile art that could possibly be in-
vented. Other tapestry looms were worked in the 18th
century at Aubusson, Felletin, and other places in France.
Eaglisb. High-warp looms appear to have been worked in England
in the 15th century, though by far the greater part of the
rich stores of tapestry in this country came from Flanders.
One very beautiful example of English work of this time
exists in St Mary's Hall at Coventry ; it represents the
marriage of Henry VL Part of another series with the~
marriage of Henry VII. is preserved in a house in Cornwall.
In the latter part of the 15th and the first half of the 16th
century enormous sums were spent by the rich in England
on Flemish tapestry. Cardinal Wolsey's private accounts
and inventories, which still exist,' give an astonishing
picture of the wealth which he lavished on the adornment
of his palace at Hampton Court. In 1522 he bought 132
large pieces of Brussels tapestry, woven with Scriptural
subjects, and mostly made to order, so as to fit exactly the ^
various wall spaces. He also bought large quantities of
costly Oriental carpets. In the inventories are enumerated
"foot carpets," " table- carpets," and "window carpets,"
"hanging peces," "borders with arms," and "window
peces," the last being strips of tapestry woven in narrow
lengths to fit the sills and jambs of windows. Among the
"wall peces," in addition to the numerous sacred subjects,
are mentioned mythological scenes, romances, historical
pieces, and " hangings of verdures," the last being decor-
ative work in which trees and foliage formed the main
design, with accessory figures of hunting, hawking, and
the like. The catalogue of Wolsey's linen napery is no
less sumptuous and abundant ; he possessed an immense
quantity of finest linen for sheets and "b(!iard- cloths"
(table-cloths), mostly patterned with "damaske diaper" or
"paned losinge-wise." This example of the wealth of
textile work possessed by one rich prelate will give some
notion of what England and other countries possessed in
the 16th century.
In the reign of James I. tapestry looms were set up' at
Mortlake, and the industry was carried on during the fol-
lowing reign under the direction of the painter Francis
Crane. Charles L introduced skilled weavers from Oudeu-
arde in Belgium, and the whole existing series of cartoons
by Raphael were copied on the Mortlake looms.' Most
of the Mortlake tapestry has distinct marks, such as the
shield of St George with F. C. (F. Crane). Some pieces
are inscribed " Car. Re. Reg. Mortl." (Carolus rex regnans).
Though closed during the Commonwealth, the Mortlake
fabrique was again worked after the Restoration until the
death of Crane in 1703. In the 18th century tapestry
■was woven on a small scale in Soho ana at Fulham, and
w'thin recent years a new royal fabrique has been estab-
Tished at Windsor, where very costly and skilful weaving
11 the pictorial Gobelin style is carried 0£. The only
'" ' See Law, Hampton Court Palace, London, 1885.
' See R.^UAEL, vol. xx. p. 280.
modern tapestry which has any of the merits of the best
old productions is that made on a small scale by Mr William
Morris at Merton Abbey (Surrey)-, where work of the high-
est beauty hao been produced. Unfortunately, however,
the modern taste for feeble imitations of oil paintings has
as yet shown little appreciation of this revival of the true
textile art.
As in England, by far the greater part of the tapestry ItahsiN
used in Italy was a Flemish import. But in the 16tU
century, under the patronage of the dukes of Ferrara,
tapestry looms were set up in Ferrara ; these were, how-
ever, worked by Flemish weavers, and closely resemble
contemporary tapestry woven at Brussels. Other fabriques
were established in Florence by the Medici princes, and
continued to be worked till the end of the 17th century.
Factories for tapestry existed also at Venice, Turin, and
other northern cities, but the industry was purely an exotic,
and never attained to any great importance. Since the
pontificate of Clement XI., in 1702,' a papal factory for
tapestry has existed in Rome, and is still carried on In the
Vatican. The papal looms have produced a large number
of most costly and elaborate copies of celebrated paintings,
executed with wonderful skill, but utterly worthless as
works of art.
The South Kensington Museum possesses the best and most Collet
illustrative collection of woven fabrics of various dates. Tlic church tions.
of St Mary at Dantzic has a magnificent collection of early textiles,
mostly used for vestments ; these are well illustrated by Hinz, Die
Schatzkammer dcr Mancn-Kirche zu Dantzifj, 1S70. Fine examples
of early tapestry exist in the cathedrals of Rheims, Bruges, Tournay,
Angers, Bcauvais, Aix, Sens, and in the church of St Heniy at
Rheiras. Other fine collections are preserved in the Louvre, the
Cluny Museum, at Chartres, Amiens, Dijon, Orleans, AuxeiTC,
Nancy, Bern, Brussels, Munich, Berlin, Dresden, Vienna, and
Nuremberg.* In Italy the richest collections (mostly of later
""Cipestry) are those of the Vatican, the Pitti, the Bargcllo, Palazzo
del Te at Mantua, Turin (royal palace), Milun (royal palace), Coiiio
(cathedral), and the museum of Na})los. The Spanish collections
have been already mentioned. In England, besides the South
Kensington Museum, fine tapestries exist in the palaces of Windsor
and Hampton Court- Those formerly in the House of Lords were
destruved in the fire of 1834. St Mary's Hall at Coventry contains
the finest examples of the IStli century.
Li(*rnriirr.— By far the best work for its well-chosen c»>lour«d illustrattona w
thatof FischlQCh. Textile Fabrics, Englished-. 1S83 ; seealsoDupont-Auberville.
Lorticvienl dts tissus, Paris, 1875-77; Michel. Rechtrctus sur la /abricatton det
etofes, Pan^. IS5'2(a very valuable work); Jiibinal. Ancienncs tapisserus. Pans.
1858-59 ; Dc Ronchaud, Upeptos d' Athene. Pans. 1872 ; Id., Let tapissene. Pans
1885; Munrz, La tapissene driTis I'unttrjuitr, Pans, lt)7S ; Lessing, Modeler lie
tapis Onentaus, Pans, 1879; Id.. Ancient Oriental Carpels, Londnji. 1879. Vin
rent Robinson. OnenUit Carpets. London. ISS'i (tlie illustrations are better llian
the t«xt); Lady Alfonl, Seedtework as Art, Ijondon. 1886 (deals p.nrtly will,
textiles). Though few works treat of the genera! history of textiles, a very
large number exist about tapestry weaving. The chief are — Dcpping, Re^te-
nents sur tes arts . . . au XllI"* Si'Cle, Pans. 1837 ; De Montault. Japissent
dc la calfi. cT Angers, Pans. IfUS ; De Farcy on the same subject, 1875 ; Darraud,
Tap. de la cath. dc Beauvais, Beauvais, 1853: nock. Testde Fabrics, S.A'.A/.,
London, 1870; Bock, Cat. des ttssus, &c.. an ^Jt^see German., Nuremberg, 1869;
Kinkel, Rof/ier van der Wevden . et tes tnpissenes de Berne, Zurich, 1867,
Givelet, Toiles brodecs de Reims, Rheiins, 1883 ; Louis Pans. Tap. de la nlle de
Reims, Rheims, 1843; Lonqiiet, Tap. de Notre Dame de Reims, Rheims. 1876;
Pinchart. Tap. dans les Fnu^-Das. and o'her works. Brussels. 1859-64 ; Dehaisnes,
Tap. d' Arras aixint le XV'^ sifcle, Pnns, 1879 ; Proyart, Rertierches snr Us tap,
d' Arras, Arras, 1863 ; Voisin, Tap. dt la atlh. de Tournay, Toumay, 1863 ; Van
Dnval. Tap. d' Arras, Arras. 1864 ; Corse. Tap. du eh/Ueau de Pan, Pans. 1881 :
De la Fons-Melicoq, Hanthssenrs den Xli'mt an XVI^n^ sieeles.PaTiH, i^lO: Sai*.
terre. Tap. de lieauvaU, Clermont. 1842 ; Deville, Slatnts, 4c, reUiti/s a la Corp.
des tap. de 1253 a 1-275. Pans. 1875; Darccl. Cae. rf. i>.-<irfs. riv. pp. 185. -273. and
414 ; Van de Graft. De Tapijt- Fabrteken de Xl'l. en Xi'll. Eeuic, Middelburg,
1869. On Italian tapestry, see De Montault. Tap. de liaute hsse a Rome, Arras.
1879 ; Conti. L'artc dcgli arazn in Firenze, Florence. 1875 ; Campori. Larazzma
Estcnse, Modena. 1876 . Braghirolli. Arazzi in Mantovn, Mantua. 1S79 ; FaraUi-
lini. Vane deijli arnzzi, Rome, 1884; Gcntili, /.'art des tapis, Rome, 1378; and
Miintz. Tap. Italiennes. Pans, 1880. On French and other lft.e tapestry, see
Darcel and Guichard. Les tap. deeoratives. Pans. ISSl : Laroplaire. /fi-«f de tap-
i^vrie. Pans. 1355;GuiIlaumot.L'Jri'7tne . . . desCohelm'. Pans. ISiiO; Perathon.
Tap. d' Anhn.<:son. dc Felletin, et de Bcllegarde, Pans, 1857 : Rnv.Pierrefitte, Ic*
tap. de Felletin, Limoges. 1855 ; Duneux, 7np. de Cambrai, Caiiibrai, 1879 ; About
and Bauer. Tap. apres les cartons de Raphael. Pans. 1S75 ; Hoiidoy. Tap. de la
/iiljrieation l.iltoise, Lille, 1871 ; Vcrgnaud-Romagnesi. Tap. an iMn.<re d'Ortrans.
Orleans. 1859 : De St Genois, Tap. d'Oiidenarde. Pans. IS64 ; Talcol. Fabric-
des tisstis, Paris. 1852; Guiffrey, Hist, de la tapissene. Tours, 1886; Pine.
Tapestry of the House of Lords. London, 1739 ; and De Chainpcaux. Tapestry,
S.K.M. handbook, London, iS^o; Ashenhurst, Treatise on t^'eavma, London,
1886. (J. H. M.)
TEZA, or TazA. See Morocco, vol. xvi. p. 834.
^
-*. An earlier fabrique was started in 1630 by Urban VHI., but it
soon ceased to be worked.
* The largo collectioa in the Gobeliu Museum was burnt in 1871.
214
THACKERA Y
THACKERAY, William Makepeace (1811-1863), one
of the greatest of English authors and novelists, son of Rioh-
mon J Thackeray (Mrs Richmond Thackeray was born Miss
Becher), and grandson of W. R. Thackeray of Hadley, Mid-
dlesex, was born at Calcutta on July 18, 1811 Both his
lather and giandfather had been Indian civil servants His
mother, who was only nineteen at the date of his birth, was
lefta widow in 1816, and afterwards married Major Henry
Carmichael Smyth Thackeray himself was sent home to
England from India as a child, and went to Charterhouse,
sinoe. his time removed to Godalming from its ancient
site near Smithfield. Anthony TroUope, in his book on
Thackeray in the English Men of Letters series, quotes a
letter written to him about Thackeray's school-days by
Mr G. S. Venables. " He came to school young," Mr
Venables wrote, "a pretty, gentle, and rather timid boy."
This accords with the fact that all through Thackeray's
writings the student may find traces of the sensitiveness
which often belongs to the creative mind, and which, in
the boy who does not understand its meaning and its
possible power is apt to assume the guise of a shy dispo-
sition. To this very matter Mr Venables tersely refers in
a later passage of the letter quoted by TroUope : " When
I knew him better, in later years, I thought I could
recognize the sensitive nature which he had as a boy."
Another iUustraticn is found in the statement, which will
be recognized as exact by all readers of Thackeray, that
" his change of retrospective feeling about his school-days
was very characteristic. In his earlier books he always
spoke of the Charterhouse as Slaughter House and Smith-
field. As he became famous and prosperous his memory
softened, and Slaughter House was changed into Grey
Friars, where Colonel Newcome ended- his life." Even in
the earlier references the bitterness which has often been
so falsely read into Thackeray is not to be found In " Mr
and Mrs Frank Berry " (Men's Wives) there is a description
of a Slaughter-House fight, following on an incident almost
identical with that used in Vanity Fair for the fight between
Dobbin and Cuff In both cases the brutality of school
life, as it then was, is very fully recognized and described,
but not to the exclusion of the chivalry which goes along-
side with it. In the first chapter of " Mr and Mrs Frank
Berry, " Berry himself and Old Hawkins both have a touch
of the heroic. In the story which forms part of Men's Wives
the bully whom Berry gallantly challenges is beaten, and one
hears no more of him. In Vanity Fair Cuff the swaggerer
is beaten in a similar way, but regains his popularity by one
well-timed stroke c: magnanimity, and afterwards shows
the truest kindness to his conqueror.
In February 1829 Thackeray went to Trinity College,
Cambridge, and in that year contributed some engaging
lines on Timbnctoo, the subject for the prize poem, to a
little university paper called The Snob, the title of which he
afterwards utilized in the famous Snob Papers The first
stanza has become tolerably well known, but is worth quot-
ing as an early instance of the direct comic force afterwards
employed by the author in verse and prose burlesques : —
In Africa — a quarter of the world —
Men's skins are black ; their hair is crisp and curled ;
And somewhere there, unknown to public view,
A mighty city lies; called Timbuctoo.
One other passage at least in T/i€ S7iob, in the form of
a skit on a paragraph of fashionable intelligence, seems to
bear traces of Thackeray's handiwork. At Cambridge
James Spedding, Monckton Milnes (Lord Houghton^,
Edward Fitzgerald, W. H. Thompson (afterwards master
of Trinity), and other distinguished persons were among
his friends. . In 1830 he left Cambridge without taking
a degree, and went to Weimar and to Paris. His visit
to Weimar bore fruit in the sketches of life at a small
German court which appear in Fiiz-Boodle'n Confessions ana
in Vanity Fair. In 1832 he came of age. and inherited
a sum which TroUope's book describes as amounting «o
about five hundred a year. The money was soon lost, —
some in an Indian bank, some in two newspapers which in
Lovel the Widower are referred to under one name as The
Museum, m connexion with which our friends Honeyman
and Sherrick of The Newcomes are briefly brought m His
first regular literary employment after the loss of his
patrimony was on Frater's Magazine, in which in 1837-38
appeared The History of Mr Samuel Titmarsh and the Great
Hoggarty Diamond, a work filled with instances of the
wit, humour, satire, pathos, which found a more ordered
if not a fresher expression in his later and longer works.
For freshness, indeed, and for a fine perception which
enables the author to perform among other feats that of
keeping up throughout the story the curious simplicity
of its supposed narrator's character, the Great Hoggarty
Diamond can scarce be surpassed. The characters, from
Lady Drum, Lady Fanny, Lady Jane, and Edmund
Preston down to Biough, his daughter, Mrs Roundhand,
Gus Hoskins, and, by no means least, Samuel Titmarsh's
pious aunt with her store of " Rosolio, " are living ; the
book IS crammed with honest fun ; and, for pure pathos,
the death of the child, and the meeting of the husband
and wife over the empty cradle (a scene illustrated by the
author himself with that suggestion of truth which no
-shortcoming in drawing could spoil), stands, if not alone
in its own line, at least in the company of very few such
scenes in English fiction. The Great Hoggarty Diamond,
oddly enough, met with the fate that afterwards befell
one of Lever's best stories which appeared in a periodical
week by week, — it had to be cut short at the bidding
of the editor In the same year in which it appear'''!
Thackeray married Isabella, daughter of Colonel Matthew
Shawe. Of the daughters born of the marriage, one, Mrs
Richmond Ritchie, has earned distinction as a novelist.
Mrs Thackeray, to quote TroUope, "became ill and her
mind failed her," and Thackeray thereupon "became as it
were a widower till the end of his days." In 1840 came
out The Pans Sketch Book. Much of it had been written
and published at an earlier date, and in the earlier
writings there are some very curious divagations in
criticism. The book contains also a striking story of
card-sharping, afterwards worked up and put into Alta-
mout's mouth in Pendennis, and a very powerful sketch of
a gambler's death and obsequies Three years before, in
1837, Thackeray had begun, in Fraser, the Yettowpltish
Papers, with their strange touches of humour, satire,
tragedy (in one scene, the closing one of the history of Mr
Deuceace), and their sublimation of fantastic had spelling
(M'Arony for macaroni is one of the typical touches of
Uiis) ; and this was followed by Catherine, a strong story,
and too disagreeable perhaps for its -purpose, founded
closely on the actua-l career of a criminal named Catherine
Hayes, and intended to counteract the then growing prac-
tice of making ruflaans and harlots prominent characters
in fiction. There soon followed Filz-Boodle's CotifessiOTU
and Professions, including the series Men's Wives, already
referred to , and, slightly before these. The Shdbby Genteel
Story, a work interrupted by Thackeray's domestic afiliction
and afterwards republished as an introduction to The Ad-
ventures of Philip, which took up the course of the original
story many years after the supposed date of its catastrophe.
In 1843, and for some ten years onwards according to
Trollope, Thackeray was writing for Punch, and the list of
his contributions included among many others the cele-
brated Snob Pxtpers and the Ballads of Policeman X. In
1843 also came out the Irish Sketch Book, and in 1844
the account of the journey From Comhill to Grand Cairo^
THACKERAY
21;
in which was published the excellent poem of The White
Squall. In IS44 there began in Fraser the Memoirs of
Barry Lyndon, called in the magazine The Liiek of Barry
Lyndon, a Romance of the Last Century Barry Lyndon
has, with a »ery great difference in treatment, some
resemblance to Smollett's Covnt Fathom , — the hero, that
is to say, is or becomes a most intolerable scoundrel, who
Li magnificently onconscious of his own iniquity. The age
and pressure of the time depicted are caught with amazing
verisimilitude, and in the boyish career of Barry Lyndon
•here are fine touches of a wild chivalry, simplicity, and
generosity, which mingle naturally with the worse qualities
that, under the influence of abominable training, afterwards
corrupt his whole mind and career. The man is so in-
fatuated with and so blind to his own roguery, he has so
mach dash and daring, and is on occasions so infamously
treated, that it is not easy to look upon him as an entirely
detestable villain until, towards the end of his course, he
becomes wholly lost in brutish debauchery and cruelty.
His latter career i.s founded on that of Andrew Robinson
Stoney Bowes, who married the widow of John, ninth
earl of Strathmore. There is also no doubt a touch of
Casanova in Barry Lyndon's character Besides the con-
tributions to Funeh specially referred to, there should be
noticed Punch's Pri^e Xovelists, containing some brilliant
parodies of Edward Lytton Bolwer, Lever, Mr D'lsraeli
(in Codlingsby, perhaps the most perfect of the series),
and others. Among minor but admirable works of the
same period are found A Legend of the Rhine (a burlesque
of the great Dumas's Olhon F Archer), brought out in a
periodical of (Jcorge Cruikshank's, Cox's Diary (on which
has been founded a well-known Dutch comedy, Janus
Tulp), and the Fatal Boots This is the most fitting moment
for mentioning also Rebecca awl Rowena, which towers, not
only over Thackeray's other burlesques, excellent as they
are, but over every other burlesque of the kind ever written.
Its taste, its wit, its pathos, its humour, are unmatchable;
and it contains some of th« best songs of a particular kind
ever written — songs worthy indeed to rank with Peacock's
best In 1846 was published, by Messrs Bradbury and
Evans, the first of twenty-four numbers of Vanity Fair, the
work which first placed Thackeray in his proper position
before the public as a novelist and writer of the first rank.
It wascomplet?d in 1848, when Thackeray was thirty-seven
years old ; and in the same year Abraham Hayward paid
a tribute to the author's powers in the Edinburgh Review.
It is probable that on Vanity Fair has been largely based
the foolish cry, now heard le^ and less frequently, about
Thackeray's cynicism, a cry which he himself, with his keen
knowledge of men, foresaw and provided against, amply
enough as one might have thought, at the end of the eighth
chapter, in a passage which is perhaps the best commentary
ever written on the author's method. He has explained
bow he wishes to descri'oe men and women as they actually
..re, good, bad, and indifferent, and to claim a privilege —
"Occasion^-.Uy to step down from the platfonn( and talk about
them : if they are good and kindly, to lovo ajid shake them by the
haoJ; if they are silly, to laagh at then oonfidentiairy in the
reader's sleeve ; if they are wicked and heartless, to abuse them in
the stron;^ terms politeness admits of. Otherwise you might
fancy it was 1 who was sneering at the practice of devoticn. which
■ Miss Sharp finds so ridiculous; that it was I who laughed good-
humouredly at the railing old Silenos of a baronet — whereas the
laoghter comes from one who has nopevcreDce except for prosperity,
and no eye for anything bryond sneoess. Such people there are
living and flourishing in tlje world — faithless. Hopeless, Charity-
less; let us have at them, dear friends, with might and main.
Some there are, and very 'successful too, mere quacks and fools :
and it was to combat and expose sn<-h as those, no doubt, that
laughter was made."
As to another accusation which was brought against the
book when it first came out, that the colours were laid on
too thick, in the sense that the villains were too villainous,
the good people too goody-gooily, the best and completest
answer to that can be found by any one who chooses to
read the work with care. Osborne is, and is meant to be,
a poor enough creature, but he is an eminently human
beins, and one whose poorness of character is develO()ed as
he allows bad influences to tell upon his vanity and folly.
The good in him is fully recognized, and comes out in thfe
beautiful passage describing his farewell to .Amelia on the
eve of Waterloo, in which passage may be also found a
sufficient enough answer to the statement that .\melia is
absolutely insipid and uninteresting. So with the com-
panion picture of Rawdon Crawley's farewell to Becky :
who that reads it can resist sympathy, in spite of Rawdon's
vices and shady shifts for a living, with his simple bra%'er}-
and devotion to his wife t As for Becky, a character that
has since been imitated a host of times, there is certainly
not much to be said in her defence. We know of her, to
be sure, that she thought she would have found it easy to
be good if she had been rich, and we know also what
happened when Rawdon, released without her knowledge
from a spunging-house, surprised her alone with and
singing to Lord Steyne in the house in May Fair. After
a gross instilt from Steyne, " Rawdon Crawley, springing
out, seized him by the neckcloth, until Steyne, almost
strangled, writhed and bent under his arm. 'You lie,
you dog,' said Rawdon ; ' you lie, you coward and villain ! '
And he struck the peer twice over the face with his open
hand, and flung him bleeding to the ground. It was all
done before Rebecca could interpose. She stood there
trembling before him. She admired her husband, strong,
brave, and victorious." This admiration is, as Thackeray
himself thought it, the capital touch in a scene which is
as powerful as any Thackeray, ever wrote — as powerful,
indeed,' as any in English fiction. Its full merit, it may be
noted in passing, has been curiously accented by an imita-
tion of it in M. Daudet's Fromont Jenne et Risler A inc. As
to the extent of the miserable Becky's guilt in the Steyne
matter, on that Thackeray leaves it practically "open to the
reader to form what conclusion he will. There is, it should
be added, a distinct touch of good in Becky's conduct to
Amelia at Osfend in the last chapter of the book, and
those who think that too little punishment is meted out to
the brilliant adventuress in the end may remember this to
her credit. It is supreme art in the treatment of her char-
acter that makes the reader understand and feel her attrac-
tiveness, though he knows her extraordinarily evil qualities;
and in this no writer subsequent to Thackeray who has
tried to depict one of the genus Becky Sharp has even
faintly succeeded. Among the minor characters there is not
one — and this is not always the case even with Thackeray's
chief figures — who is incompletely or inconsistently de-
picted ; and no one who wishes to fully understand and
appreciate the book ran afford to miss a word of it.
Vanity Fair was followed by Pendennis, Esmond, and
The Neteiomies, which appeared respectively in 1850, 1852,
and 1854. It might be more easy to pick holes critically
in Pendennis than in Vanity Fair. Pendennis himself,
after his boyish passion and university escapades, has dis-
agreeable touches of flabbiness and worldliness; and the
important episode of his relations with Fanny Bolton,
which Thackeray could never have treated otherwise than
delicately, is eo lightly and tersely handled that it is- A
little vague even to those who read between the lines ;
the final announcement that those relations have been
innocent can scarcely be said to be led up to, and one can
hardly see why it should have been so long delayed. This
does not of coarse affect the value of the book as a picture
of middle and upper class life of the time, the time when
Vauxhall stilt existed, and the haant for suppers and songs
216
THACKERAr
Which Thackeray in this book called the Back Kitchsn,
and it is a picture filled with, sinking figures. In some
of these, notably in that of Foker, Thackeray went, it is
supposed, very close to actual life for his material, and in
that particular case with a most agreeable result. As for
the two umbrx of the marquis of Steyne, it is difficult to
believe that they were intended as caricatures from^two
well-known persons. If they were, for once Thackeray's
hand forgot its cunning. Here, as in Vanity Fair, the
heroism has been found a little insipid; and there may
be good ground for finding Laura Pendennis dull, though
she has a spirit of her own. In later books she becomes,
what Thackeray's people very seldom are, a tiresome as
well as an uninviting person. Costigan is unique, and so
is Major Pendennis, a type which, allowing for differences
of period and manners, will exist as long as society does,
and which has been seized and depicted by Thackeray as by
no other novelist. His two encounters, from both of which
he comes out. victorious, one with Costigan in the first,
the other with Morgan in. the second volume, are admirable
touches of genius. In opposition to, the worldliness of the
major, with which Pendennis does not escape being tainted,
we have Warrington, whose nobility of nature has come
unscathed through a severe trial, and ■who, a thorough
gentleman if a rough one, is really th3 guardian of Pen-
donnis's career. There is, it should be noted, a character-
istic and acknowledged confusion in the plot of Pendennis,
which will not spoil any intelligent reader's pleasure.
Probably most readers of T/ie Navcomes (1854) fo whom
the book is mentioned think first of the grand, chivalrous,
and simple figure of Colonel Newcome, who stands out in
the relief of almost ideal beauty of character against the
crowd of mors or less imperfect and more or less base
personages who move through the noveL At the same
time, to say, as has been said, that this book " is full of
satire from the "first to the last page " is to convey an
impression which is by no means just. There is plenty of
kindliness in the treatment of the young men who, like
Clive Newcome himself and Lord Kew, possess no very
shining virtue beyond that of being honourable gentlemen ;
in the character of J. J. Ridley there is much tenderness,
and pathos ; and no one can help liking the Bohemian F.
B., and looking tolerantly on his failings. It maybe that
both the fiendish temper of Mrs Mackenzie and the suffer-
ings she inflicts on the Colonel are too closely insisted on ;
but it must be remembered that this heightens the singular
pathos of the closing scenes of the' Colonel's life. It has
Siemed convenient to take The Newcomes after Pendennis,
because Pendennis and his wife reappear in this book, as
in the Adventures of Philip; but Esmond (1852) was
written and published beforrf The Newcomes. To some
students Esmond seems and-AvHl seem Thackeray's capital
work. It has not been rivalled, and only a fe\v- times
approached by Mr Besant, as a romance reproducing
with unfailing interest and accuracy the figures, manners,
md phrases of a past 'time, and it js full of beautiful
touches of character. But Beatrix, upon whom so much
hinges, is an unpleasing character, although one understands
fully why men were captivated by her insolent beauty and
brilliancy ; and there is some truth in Thackeray's own
saying, that " Esmond was a prig." Apart from this, the
story is, like the illusion of a past time in the narrative,
80 complete in all its details, so harmoniously worked out,
that there is little room for criticism. As to Esmond's
marriage with the lady whom he has served and Joved as
a boy, that is a matter for individual judgment, Beatri.x,
it has been indicated above, is wonderfully drawn; and
not the least wonderful thing about her is her reappearance
as the jaded, battered, worldly, not altogether unkindly,
Baroness in The Virginians. It was just wtat Beatrix
must have come to, and the degradation is handled with
the lightest and finest touch.
In 1851 Thackeray had written The English Humouristt
of the Eighteenth Century, delivered as a series of lectures
at Willis's Rooms in the same year, and re-delivered in the
United States in 1852 and 1853, as was afterwards the
series called The Four Georges.- Both sets were written for
the purposes of lecturing. In 1857 Thackeray stood unsuc-
cessfully as a [larliameDtary candidate for Oxford against
Mr Cardwell, and in the same year appeared the first num-
ber of The Virginians, a sequel to Esmond. This is a most
unequal work, — inferior, as sequels are apt to be, to Esmond
as an historical romance, .less compact and coherent,
prone to divagation and desultoriness, yet cliarming enough
in its lifelikeness, in the wit and wisdom of its reflesion.'s
and, as has been said, in its portrait of Beatrix grown olo".
The last number of The Virginians came out in 1859, and
in the same year Thackeray undertook the editorship of the
Comhill Magazine. This was a task which, as readers of
his Roundabout paper " Thorns in the Cushion " will re
member, the kindliness and sensitiveness of his disposition
made irkiome to. him, and he resigned the editorship in
April 18G2, though he continued to write for the magazine
until he died. In the Cwnhill appeared from his pen Lovel
the Widoiver, previously written, with different names for
some of the personages, in dramatic form; The Adventures
of Philip; the Roundabout Papers; and the story, unhappily
never finished, called Denis Duval. Lovel the Widower',
changed from the dramatic to the narrative form, remains
a piece of high comedy in which the characters are in(Jicated
rather than fully worked out, with a bold and practised
touch. It contains some references to Thackeray's early
and unfortunate newspaper speculations, and it was pro-
vided by the author with illu.strations which as in others
of his books have a value which is entirely their own in
furnishing, as it were, a far completer commentary on the
letterpress than could have been given by any draughts-
man, however perspicacious and finished, who approached
the pictorial representation of the characters from the
outside. To the general statement thus indicated an
e.xception should be made in the case of Doyle's illustra-
tions to I'he Neiveomes and to Rebe'-ea and Roivena. On
the other hand, not even Doyle could have matched the
fun and spirit of Thackeray's own illustrations to another
burlesque story, one of his best. The Rose and the Ring.
The Roundabout Papers, a small storehouse of some of
Thackeray's best-qualities as an essayist, came out in the
Comhill Magazine simultaneously with Lovel the Widoiver
and with The Adventures of Philip. Among them is one
differing in form from the rest, called The A'otch on the
Axe — a Story d la Mode. It is an almost perfect specimen
of the author's genius for burlesque story-telling ; but it
contains an odd instance, which a careful reader will not
fail to discover, of the odd habit of inaccuracy of which
Thackeray himself was conscious. The Adventures of
Philip is, as has been before said, in the nature of a
se.quel to or a completion of A Shabby Genteel Story. As
with the other direct oequel, it is, a work of great in-
equality It contains scenes of humour, pathos, satire,
which rank with Thackeray's best work ; some old friends
from others of the novels make brief but pleasant reappear-
ances in its pages; there are fine sketches of journalistic,
artistic, and diplomatic life, and the scene from the last-
named in Paris is inimitable. The Little Sister is altogether
delightful ; the Twysden family are terribly true and
.vastly diverting ; the minor characters, among whom old
Ridley, J. J,'s father, should bo mentioned, are wonder-
fully hit off ; nor did Thackeray ever write a better scene
than that of the quarrel between Bunch, Baynes, and
M'Whirter in the Paris pension. Philip himself is impos-
r H A — T H A
217
Rible one cannot say tbat thf character is ill-<lrawn — it is '
not drawn at all It is no entirelv diSerent personage in ■
diSerent chapters and it has here and there a verv un
pleasant touch which must have come of rapid writing. I
Vet 90 admirable are many parts of the book that it can- I
not be left out of the list of Thackeray s mosi considerable '
works Dmis Duval, which reached only 'Dree numbers,
promised t/i be a tirst-rate work, more or less in the Exmond
manner The author died while it was in progress, on the
day before Christmas day 1^63 He was buried in Kcnsal
Oreen, and a bust by Marochetti was put up to his memory
■0 Westminster Abbev
Little has yet been said of Thackeray's pertormances in
L'oetry They formed a small hut not the least significant
,iart of his life's work The grace and the apparent spon-
taneity of hi? versihcation are beyond question Some of
the more serious efforts, such as Thf Chrnnurlf of Ju Dmm
M841). are lull ot power, and instinct with true poetic
feeling Both the half-humorous half pathetic ballads and
the wholly extravagant ones must be classed with the best
work ir that kind and 'he translations from Beranger are
u; good it verse translations can be Be had the true
poetic instinct, and proved it by writing poetry which
equalled his prose in grace and feeling
It is not necessary to discuss the precise place which
Thackeray will in future hold, in respect to his immediate
Tonteraporanes Wliat seems absolutely certain is that the
force and vanety of his genius and art will always hold for
him a place as one of the greatest of English novelists and
essayists, and. it should be added, as by no means the least
of English critic* 'w h p. i
THALBERG, Sigismond (1812-IR71). a celebrated
pianist and composer for his instrument, was born at
Geneva in 1812 (May .') or .lanuary 7) In 1822 he was
taken to Vienna, where, under the watchful care of Count
Dietrichstem. his education was completed There is some
doubt a? to the masters under whom he studied but it
IS certain that he received instruction from Hummel, and
perhaps also from Czemy, and that he took lessons in com-
position from Sechter He made hiS' first appearance as a
pianist at Pnnce Metternichs in 1826. and published his
first composition — a. JFantaifia on Airs from " Euryantlif"
—in 1828. but it was nof until 1830 that he was first fairly
introduced to the public, with such brilliant success that
from that time forward hisonJy rival was Liszt In 1834 he
was appointed "kammervirtuos" t^ the emperor of Austria.
He first appeared id Pari.s in 1837 and in 1838 he came
to England, astonishing his hearers with the novel effects
produced in his Pnriatvms on God Save tJie Qrieen. while
he charmed them with his delicate touch and the punty of
his expression Thenceforward his career was a succe.ssion
of triumphs In order to disprove the popular idea that
he could execute no music but his own. he played Beet-
hoven's Concerto tn C rninor (op 37' at the London
Wednesday Concerts, held in 1846-4" at Exeter Hall,
with a keen intelligence which proved his power ol inter-
preting the works of the great master? to be at least oii a
level with his wonderful UchnvpLt Besides his pianotorte
compositions, which are almost lununierable. Thalberg pro-
duced two Qperas. — Cristina. which proved a complete
failure and Flonnda which lared but littl" better at Her
Majesty's Theatre in 1851 He played in London lor the
last time in 1863. and afterwards retired to his estate near
Naples He died at Naples, April 27 187 1
THALES ot .\!iiETOs (640-54b b.l'.;. sol of
Examyus and Cleobulme. is universally recognizeo as the
founder of Greek geometry, astronom) and philosophy
He It said by Herodotus and others to have been of
Phoenician extraction, but the more common account (see
Diogene.' Laertius* i? that he was a native Milesian of
23—10'
noble birth Zeller thinks that his ancestors belonged to
tht (^admean tribe in Boeotia. who were intermingled with
the ionians ol Asia Minor, and thus reconciles the con-
Hicline statements The nationality of Thales is certainly
Greek and not Phoenician The high estimation in which
he was held by hi? contemporaries is shown by the place
he occupied as chief of the seven " wise men " of Greece .
and in later times amongst the ancients his fame was quite
remarkable It is well known that this name (tjotbtK) was
given on account ot practical ability . and in accordance
with this wp find that Thales had been occupied with civil
affairs, and indeed several instances of his political sagacity
have been handed down Of these the most remarkabit
is the advice, prai.sed by Herodotus, which he gave ic
his fellow-countrymen "before Ionia was ruined," — "that
the lonians should constitute one general council m
Teos as the most central ol the twelve cities, and that
the remaining cities should nevertheless be governed as
independent states" 'Herod., i. 170/ It is probable,
however, that n the ca.se of Thales the appellation ' wise
man.' which was given to him and to the other six id the
archonship of Damasius (586 B.C.),' was conferred on him
not only on account of his political sagacity, but also lor
his scientific eminence (Plui.. Sn/on, c 3; " To about the
same time must be referred his celebrate^ prediction ot the
eclipse of the .sun. which took place on May 28, ^Sfy B.r.
This event, which was of the highest importance, has givet
rise to much discussion The account of it as given by
Herodotus (I "41 contains two statements; — (1) the faci
that the eclipse ilid actually take place during a battle
between the Medes and the Lydians, that it was a iota)
eclipse ( Herodotus calls it a " night battle "), that it caused
a cessation of hostilities and led to a lasting peace betwees
the contending nations (2) that Thales had foretold the .
eclipse to the lonians, and fixed the year m which it
actually di take place Various dates — ranging from 62S
B.c to ^S3 B.C. — have been assigned by different chrono-
logists to this eclipse but. since the investigations ol
Airy,'-' Hind,^ and Zech.' the date determined by thea
(Mav 28. .'iS.'i B.C.) has been generally accepted This
date agrees nearly with that given by Pliny {H A' . ii
12) The second part of the statement of Herodotus — the
reality of the prediction by Thales — has been frequently
called in question, chiefly on the ground that, in order to
predict a solar eclipse with any chance ot success, one
should have the command ol certain astronomical facts
which were not known until the 3d century B.C. and then
merely approximately, and only employed with that object
in the following century by Hipparchus The question,
however, IS not whether Thales could predict the eclipse of
the sun with any chance ol success — much less whether he
j could state beforehand at what places the eclipse would
I be visible, as some have erroneously supposed, and which
I of course would have been quite impossible for him to do,
I but simply whether he foretold that there would be a solar
I eclipse iL that year, as stated by Herodotus Now as to
I this there is quite a remarkable unanimity m the testi
I mony of the ancients, and the evidence is of the strongesl
I kind ascending to Herodotus, and, according to the
I account of Diogenes Laertius. even to Xenophanes. who
was an Ionian, and not much later than Thales Further.
Bretscnneider (Dtt Oeom. ror Evklides, p. 40), witliout stating
I his authonty, giv» " hetween t^b and 583 B c ai! the iiate ol the
an-hnnsliip jf Dania.'dub In Ihis lie is followed hy some othei
' recent writers, who iiiler Ihence that the name '* wise" was conterred
I CD Thales on account of the success of ht« predictiOD. The ilate 686
' B. L. , given atxivt which is taken from Clmton, is aclopted by Zellei
' " Un the Bclipse> ol Agathocles, Thales. and Xerxes." Phil
Trana. «oi. cxiiii. p. I7li sq.. 1853 ' Alhenmivi. p. 919, 1S5-'
^stTonomische L'ntersuchungen der imchiit/eren Finstcmisse. &c
I p. 57 135a
XXIIL — 28
218
T H A L E S
we know that in the 8th century B.C. there were obser-
vatories in most of the large cities in the valley of the
Euphrates, and that professional astronomers regularly
took observations of the heavens, copies of which were
sent to the king of Assyria; and from a cuneiform inscrip-
tion found in the palace of Sennacherib at Nineveh, the
text of which is given by George Smith,' we learn that at
that time the epochs of eclipses of both sun and moon were
predicted as possible — probably by means of the cycle of
223 lunations or Chaldaean Saros — and that observations
were made accordingly.
The wonderful fame of Thales amongst the ancients
must have been ia great part due to this achievement,
which seems, moreover, to have been one of the chief
causes that excited amongst the Hellenes the love of
science which ever afterwards characterized them. Thales
seems not to have left any writings behind him, though
as to this there appears to be some doubt (see Diog.
Laer., i. 23). Many anecdotes, amusing rather than
instructive, are related of him, which have been handed
down by Diogenes Laertius and other writers. From some
of them it would appear that he was engaged in trade,
which is indeed expressly stated by Plutarch (Solon, c. 2).
It is probable .that in the pursuit of commerce he was led
to visit Egypt. Of the fact that Thales visited Egypt,
and there became acquainted with geometry, there is abun-
dant evidence. Hieronymus of Rhodes (ap. Diog. Laer.,
i. 27) says, " he never had any teacher except during the
time when he went to Egypt and associated with the
priests." "
But the characteristic feature of the work of Thales was
that to the knowledge thus acquired he added the capital
creation .of the geomett-y of lines, which was essentially
abstract in its character. The only geometry known tc'the
Egyptian priests was that of surfaces, together with a
sketch of that of solids, a geometry consisting of some
simple quadratures and elementary cubatures, which they
had obtained empirically. Thales, on the other hand, intro-
duced abstract geometry, the object of which is to establish
precise relations between the different parts of a figure, so
that some of them could be found by means of others in
a manner strictly rigorous. This was a phenomenon -quite
new in the world, and due, in fact, to the abstract snirit
of the Greeks.
The foUowinf! discoveries in geometry are attributed to Thalea : —
(1) the circle is bisected by its diameter (Procl., op. cit., p. 157) ; (2)
the angles at the base of an isosceles triangle are equal (-Id. , p. 250) ;
(3) when two straight lines cut each other tho vertically opposite
angles are equal (Id., p. 299); (4) the angle in a semicircle is a
right angle ;* (5) the theorem Euclid i. 26 is referred to Thales
by Eudemus(ProcI., op.. ri(., p. 352). Two applications of geometry
to the solution of practical problems are also attributed to him :—
(1) the determination of the distance of a ship at sea, for which ho
made use of the last theorem ; (2) the determination of the height
of a pyramid by means of the length of its shadow : according to
Hieronymue of Rhodes (Diog. Laert., i.' 27) and Pliny (JV. S.,
xxxvi. 12), the shadow was measured at the hour of the day whft
a man's shadow is the same length as himself. Plutarch, however
states the method in a form requiring the knowledge of Euclid
vi. 4, but without the restriction as to the hour of the day {Sept,
Sap. Conviv., 2). Further, we learn from Diogenes Laertius (i. 25)
that he perfected the things relating to the scalene triangle and
the theory of lines. Proclus, too, in his summary of the history of
geometry before Euclid, which he probably derived from Eudemus
of Rhodes, says that Thales, having visited Egypt, first brought
tho knowledge of geometry into Greece, that he discovered many
' Assyrian Ditcoveries, p. 409.
^ Cf. Pamphila and the spurious letter from Thales to Pherecydes,
ap. Diog. Laer. ; Proclus, Inprimum £uclidis Elementomm Libra-m.
CommentaTii, ed. Friedlein, p. 65 ; Pliny, //. N., %%%-n. 12 ; 1am-
blichus, In Vit. Pijlhag., 12; Plutarch, Sept. Sap. Conviv., 2, Se
Jside, 10, and Plac., I 8, 1.
' This is unquestionably tbff meaning of the statement of Pamphila
(temp. Nero), ap. Diog. Laert. , i. 24, that be was the first person to
describe a right-angled triangle in a circle.
things himself, and communicated the beginnings of many to his
successors, some of which he attempted in a more abstract manner
{KadoAiKtirfpov) and some in a more intuitional or seu&ible manner
(alir$7irtKti>T(poi') {op. cit, p. 65).
From these indications it is no doubt difficult to determine what
Thales brought from Egypt and what was due to his own inven-
tion. This difficulty has, however, been lesseued'since the transla-
tion and publication of the papyrus Rhind by Eisenlohr ;* and it is
now generally admitted that, in the distinction made in the last
passage quoted above from Proclus, reference is made to the two
forms of his work, — alaeriTiKwrepoy pointing to what he derived from
Egypt or arrived at in an Egyptian manner, while KadoXiKtiiTfpov
indicates .the discoveries which he made in accordance with the
Greek spirit. To the former belong the theorems (1), (2), and (3),
and to the latter especially the theorem (4), and also, probably, his
solution of the two practical problems. We infer, then, [1] that
Thales must have known the theorem that the sum of the three
angles of a triangle are equal to two right angles. This inference
is made from (4) taken along with (2). No doubt we are informed
by Proclus, on the authority of Eudemus, that the theorem
Euclid i. 32 was first proved in a general way by the Pytha-
foreans (see Pythagoras, vol. xx. p. 140) ; but, on the other
and, we Icam fiom Geminus that the ancient geometers observed
the equality to two right angles in each kind of triangle — in the
eqiiilateral first, then in the isosceles, and lastly in the scalene
(Apoll, Conica.ed. Halleius, p. 9), and it is plaifa that the geometers
older than the Pythagoreans can be no other than Thales and his
school. The theorem, then, seems to have been arrived at by induc-
tion, and may have been suggested by the contemplation of floors
or walls covered with tiles of the form of equilateral triangles, or
squares, or hexagons. [2] We see also in tho theorem (4) the first
trace of the important conception of geometrical loci, which we,
thereTore, attribute to Thales. It is worth noticing that it was in
tliis manner that this remarkable property of the circle, with which,
in fact, abstract geometry was inaugurated, presented itself to the
im.-^ination of Dante : —
' O se del mezzo cerchio far si paote
Triangol si, ch'uD retto non avesse." — Par., c. xlli. 101.
[3] Thales discovered the theorem that the sides of equiangular
triangles are proportional. The knowledge of this theorem ia dis-
Lfactly attributed to Thales by Plutarch, and it was probably made
use of also in his determination of the distance of a ship at sea.
Let us now consider the .importance of the work of Thales.
I. In a scientific point of view : (a) we see, in the first place, that
by his two theorems ho founded the geometry of lines, which has
ever since remained the principal part of geometry'; (6) he may,
in the second place, be fairly considered to have laid the founda-
tion of algebra, for his first theorem establishes an equation in the
true sense of the word, while the second institutes a proportion.'
II. In a philosophic point of view : we see that in these two
theorems of Thales the first type of a natural law, i.e., the ex-
pression of a fixed dependence between different quantities, or, in
another form, the disentanglement of constancy in the midst of
variety — has decisively arisen.* III. Lastly, in a practical point
of view : Thales furnished the first example of an application of
theoretical geometry to pracrice,^ and laid tho foundation of an
importan.t branch of the same — the measurement of heights and
distances. For the farther progress of geometry see Pythagoras.
As to the astronomical knowledge of Thales yfv have the follow-
ing notices : — (1) besides the prediction of the solar eclipse, Eu-
demus attributes to him tho discovery that the circuit of the sun
between the solstices is not always uniform;^ (2) he called the last
day of the month the thirtieth (Diog. Laert, i. 24); (3) he divided
the year into 365 days (Id., i. 27); (4) he determined the dia-
meter of the sun to be the 720th part of the zodiac ;' (5) he appears
to have pointed out the constellation of the Lesser Bear to his
countrymen, and instructed them to steer by it [as nearer i he pole]
instead of the Great Bear (Callimacbus ap. Diog. Laert, i. 23 ; cf.
Aratus, Phxmmima, v. 36 sq. ). Other discoveries in astronomy
are attributed to Thales, but on authorities which are not trust>
worthy. He did not know, for example, that " the earth is spher-
ical," as is erroneously stated by Plutarch (Placita, iiL 10); on th»
contrary, he conceived it to be a flat disk, and in this supposition
he was -followed by most of his successors in the Ionian schools^
including 'Anaxagoiss. The doctrine of the sphericity of the earth,
* Ein maihematisch£s Bandbuch der alten .4fp3/??ter, "Leipsic, 1877.
^ Auguste Comte, Syst^me de Politique Positive, iii. pp. 297, 300,
« P. Laflitte, Les Grands Types de I'llumanitS, voh ii. p. 292.
' Ibid., p. 294.
' Theonis Smymaei Platonic! Liber de Astrowmia, ed. Th. H. Mar-
tin, p. 324, Paris, 1849. Cf. Diog. Laert, i. 24. '
' This is the received interpretation of the passage in Diogonea
Laertius, i. 24 (see Wolf, Oesch. der Astron., p. 1.69), where <r«\77rofou
ia probably a scribe's error for ^tfySuutov. Cf. Apuleiua, Florida, iv. 18,
who attributes to Thales, then old, the discovery ; " qnotiens sol mag-
nitudine sua circulum quern pernieat metiatur."
T H A — T H A
219
for vrhich the researches of Anaiiniander had prepared the my,'
was ID fact one of the great discovenes of Pythagoras, was tauglit
by Parirenides, who was eonnccted with the Pythagoreans, aud
remaioed for a long time the exclusive property of the lulian
schools.'
Whilst io virtue of his political sagacity and intellectual eminence
Thales held a place in the traditional list of the wise men, on the
strength of the disinterested love of knowledge which appeared in
his physical sueculations he was accounted a " philosopher " (if>i\6-
ffo^oi). His " philosophy " is usually summed up in the dogma
"water is the principle, or the element, of things"; but, as the
technical terms " principle " (apx'h) and " element " (o-todc'O'') had
not yet come into use, it may be conjectured that the phrase " all
things are water" {■wdm-n CJup ^cttI) more exactly represents his
teaching. Writings which bore his name were extant in antiquity ;
bat, as Aristotle, when he speaks of Thales's doctrine, always depends
upon tradition, there can be little doubt that they were forgeries.
From Aristotle we learn. (1) that Thales found in water the
origin of things ; (2) that he conceived the earth to float upon a
sea of the elemental fluid , (3) that lie supposed all things to be
full of gods; (4) that in virtue of the attraction exercised by the
magnet he attributed to it a souL Here our information ends.
Aristotle's suggestion that Thales was led to his fundamental
dogma by observation of the part which moisture plays in the pro-
ductiou and the maintenance of life, and Simplicius's, that the
impressibility and the binding power of water were perhaps also in
his thoughts, are by admission purely conjectural. Simplicius's
further suggestion that Thales conceived the element to be modi-
fied by thinning and thickening is plainly inconsistent with the
statement of Thcophrastus that the hypothesis in question was
peculiar to Anaiimcnes. The assertion preserved by Stobaeus that
Thales recognized, together with the material element " water,"
" mind," which penetrates it and sets it in motion, is refuted by the
precise testimony of Aristotle, wj^o declares that the early physicists
did not distinguish the moving cause from the material cause, and
that before Hermotimus and Anaxagoras no one postulated a
creative intelligence.
It would seem, then, that Thales sought amid the variety of
things a single material cause ; that he found such a cause in one
of the forms of matter most familiar to hiin, namely, water, and
accordingly regarded earth and all that it contains as water vari-
ously meumorphosed ; and that, asking himself no questions about
the manner of its transformatioii he was content to see in the
forces of nature present deities" (Zeller).
The doctrine of Thales was interpreted and developed in the
course of t'hree succeeding generations. First, Anaximander chose
for what he called his " principle " (ipx'i). not^ water, but a cor-
poreal element intermediate between 6re and air on the one hand
and water and earth on the other. Next, Anaximenes, prefer-
ring air, resolved its transformations into processes of thinning
and thickening. Lastlv, Heraclitus asserted the cliims of fire,
which he conceived to modify itself, not occasionally, but per-
l>etually. Thus Thales recognized change, bnt was not careful to
explain it ; Anaximander attributed to change two directions ;
Anaximenes conceived the two sorts of change as rarefaction and
condensation ; Heraclitus, perceiving that, if, as his predecessors
had tacitly assumed, change was occasional, the interference of a
moving cause was necessary, made change perpetual. But all four
agreed in tracing the variety of things to a single material cause,
corporeal, endowed with qualities, and capable of self-transforma-
tion. A new departure was taken by the Eleatic Parmenides (see
vol. xviii. p. 315), who, expressly noting that, when Thales and
his successors attributed to the supposed element chauging
qualities, they were untrue to the principle of monism, required
that the superficial plurality of nature should be strictly distin-
guished from its fundamental unity. Hence, wherea^ Thales and
his successors had confounded the One, the element, and the Many,
its modifications, the One and tlie Not-One or filany became with
Parmenides matters for separate investigation. In this way two
lines of inquiry originated. On the one hand Empedocles and
Anaxagoras, abandoning the pursuit of the One, gave themselves
to the scientific study of the Many; on the other Zcno, abandoning
the ]iursuit of the Many, gave himself to the dialectical study of
the One. Both successions were doomed to failure; and the result
.was a scepticism from which the thought of Greece did not emerge
until Plato, returning to Parmenides, declared the study of the
One and the Many, jointly regarded, to be the true office of philo-
sophy. Thus, meagre and futile as the doctrine of Thales was, all
the Greek schools, with the solitary exception of that of Pythagoras,
took their origin from it. Not in name only, but also in fact,
Thales, the first of the Ionian physicists, was the founder of the
philosophy of Greece.
•- ' In likening the earth to a cylinder Anaximander recognized its
circular figure iii one dire:tion.
' Se*^ G. V. Schiaparelli. / PrectiTson di Copemico nelV ArUichitd,
p. 1, MUan, 1873.
5i6.'io?rapAy.— <A) G^:OSIBTRICAL AST) AsTROSOMlCAl,.— C. A. Bretachnelder.
Da Ceoi'trtrtt ti ate G^xjtnfUr vor Eukltdcs. Lt^ipsic, 1870; H. Hankcl. Zur
Cuchtc/tle der Mathtmatik, Lcipsic. 1S74 ; G, J. Allnion, " Greek G6onictry from
ThRles to Euclid." Hermathena, No. v.. Dublin, lb77 ; M. Cflnlor. Vorrf^un^en
ubfi- Geschtcliie der M^uhftnalik, Leipsic. 1880; P. Tflnneiy, "Thal&9 de Mitel cc
qu'll a emprunt^ i, I'KHyple," Revue Pfiitoiophique. Murrh 1880 ; - La Tiadltlon
t..uchant-p>tliai:ore. CEnopide. ct Thalfes,"' Bull, da Sc. Hath., May 1886 ; R.
Wnlf. Geithicliie der Ailronomu, .Munich. 1877 (B) Philosophical.— E. Zeller.
Ihe Phtlosoplite d. Griechtn.i. lt>S-lS3. Leipsic. 187(1 {Preiocralic Philv^ophy, I.
211-227. Loud.. 1881); F. Ueberweg, Grundrissd.Oesch.d. Philosophit. 512. Berlin,
187U//ul.o//'/iiiosop/i!/. Lond., 1880); T. Decker. De TliaUle Slilttio Halle. ISCS;
A. B. Krische. Forsc/itingen, pp. 34-42, Giittingcn. 1840. (G. J A — H. JA.)
THALLIUM, one of the rarer elements of chemistry.
Its discovery is one of the outcomes of Bunsen and
Kirchhof's method of spectrum analysis. When Crookes,
in 1861, applied this method to the flue-dust produced in
the roasting of a certain kind of pyrites he observed in its
spectrum a green line foreign to all then known spectra,
and concluded that his substance must contain a new
element, to which he gave the name of thallium, from
6aAAd?, a green twig. Crookes presumed that his thal-
lium was something of the order of sulphur, selenium, or
tellurium ; but Lamy, who anticipated him in isolating
the new elemeut, found it to be a metal. Our present
knowledge of the chemistry of thallium is based chiefly
upon the labours of Crookes.
The chemical character of thallium presents striking
pecaliaritie.s. Dumas once called it the " ormihorhtpichus
paradoxus of metals." As an elementary substance, it is
very similar in its mechanical and phy.sical properties to
lead ; like lead it forms an almost insoluble chloride and
an insoluble iodide. But the hydroxide of thallium, in
most of its properties, comes very close to those of the
alkali metals ; it is strongly basilous, forms an insoluble
chloroplatinate, and an alum strikiagly similar to the
corresponding potassium .compounds. Yet, unlike potas-
sium or lead, it forms a feebly basic sesquioxidc simila? to
manganic oxide, Mn203.
Traces of thallium exist in many kinds of pyrites, as
used for vitriol-making. The only known mineral of "which
it forms an essential component is the " crookesite " of
Skrikerum, SmSland, Sweden, which, according to Norden-
skibld, contains 33'3 of selenium, 45'8 of copper, 3'7 of
silver, and 17 "2 of thallium in 100 parts. Crookesite,
however, is scarce. The best raw materials for the pre-
paration of thallium are the flue-dusts produced indus-
trially in the roasting of thalliferous pyrites and the
"chamber muds" accumulating in vitriol-chambers wrought
■with such pyrites ; in both it is frequently associated with
Selenium (g.v.). The flue-dust from the pyrites of Thetii,
near Spa (Belgium), according to Bottcher, contains 0'5
to 0'75 per cent, of thallium ; that of the pyrites of Meggen,
according to Carstanjen, as much as 3o per cent.; while
that of the pyrites of Ruhrort yielded 1 per cent, of the
pure chloride to Gunning.
For the extraction of the metal from chamber mud. the latter is
boiled with water, which extracts the thallium as T1;S04. From
the filtered solution the thallium is precipitated by addition of
hydrochloric acid, as TlCl, along, in general, with more or less of
chloride of le.ad. The mixed chlorides are boiled down to dryness
with oil of vitriol to convert thenv into sulphates, wliich are then
separated bv boiling water, which dissolves only the thallium salt
From the Hltered solution the thallium is recovered, as such, by
means of pure metallic zinc, or by electrolysis. The (approximately
pure) metallic sp'onge obtained is washed, made compact by com-
pression, fused in a ])orcelain crucible in an atmosphere of hydro-
gen, and cast into sticks. Methods for the final purification of the
metal will easily be deduced from what follows.
The metal is bluish white ; it is extremely soft but almost devoid
of tenacity and t'.asticity. Its specific gravity is 11 'SB. It fuses
at 290° C. ; at a white heat it boils and can be (iistilled in hydrogen
gas. When heated in air it is readily oxidized, with fonjiation of
a reddish or violet vapour. When exposed to the air it readily
draws a film of oxidS ; the tarnished metal when plunged into
water reassumes its metallic lustre, the oxide film being quickly
dissolved. When kept in contact with water Snd air it is gradually
converted into hydroxide, TkOH.O or TIOH.
This hydrate, TTIOH. most conveniently prepared by decomposing.
I the solution of the sulphate iwth baryta water, crvstaUizes from its
220
T H A - T H A
solutioTi in long yellow needles, TIOTT or TIOH + HjO, wli ich dissol vo
readily in water, forniuig an intenst-ly alkaline solution, wliicli acts
isacaustic. liko, forinstance, putasli-loy, ami likeitgrccdilyabsorbs
carbonic acid from the atmosphere. But, uuliko the alkalies, it
readily loses its water at 100' C and even at the ordinary tempera-
ture, to |)iiss into the state of anhydrous TIjO, which is blacK or
black-violet.
The ijiloride, TICI, is readily obtained from the solution of any
thallous salt (c g., the sulphate), by addition of hydrochloric acid,
KB a white precipitate similar in appearance to chloride of silver,
like which rt turns violet in the light and fuses below redness into
a (yellow) liq\)id which freezes into a horn-like flexible mass. The
specific gravity of this "horn" thallium, as one might call it, is
7-02 One part of the precipitated chloride dissolves at 0° C. in
500 parts of water, and in 70 paits at 100° C. It is less soluble
in dilute hydrochloric acid Carbonate of soda solution dissolves
it pretty freely
Xho lodiiif. Til, is a yellow precipitate, which requires 16,000
parts of cold water and still more of solution of iodide of potassium
fp- its solution.
The chloToplalinalc, PtCljTIj, readily obtainable from thallous-
s.ilt solutions by addition of chloride of platinum {PtClsH^), is a
yellow precipitate soluble in no lo^ than 1 5,600 parts of cold water.
ThecorJoniKf, TI3CO3, comes closer to the lithium compound than
to any othe"- ordinary carbonate. It forms resplendent monoclinic
prisms, soluble at 18' C in 191 and at 100° in 4-46 parts of water.
A stable bicarbonate, TlHCOj, does exist.
The sulphate, TljSO,, forms rhombic prisms isomorplioue with
KoSOj- It dissolves at 18° C. in 208 and at 101° in 5-2 parts of
water. It unites with vitriol into on acid salt, TlHSOj-fSH.O,
and with sulphate of alumina into an "alum," AMS0,)3TljS0,-l-
24HjO.
TfuiUie satis are related to thallous pretty much as manganic
are to i.,jnganous. The chloride, TICI3, is obtained as a solution
by passing -chlorine into a suspension of thallous chlorido in w-ater.
The solution, when evaporated in vacuo, deposits colourless crystals,
TICI34 H.O. For the oxide, if chlorine be passed iiito a solution
of thallous chloride in carbonate of soda a brown precipitate is
produced, which, after drying, has the composition T1.J03-^HJ0-
When ieated with strong hydrochloric acid it evolves chlorine and
yieMs TICI ; when heated with oil of vitriol it yields oxygen gas
and thallous sulphate. Thallic. sulphate, however, does exist, — in
crystals, TlstSOiJ^-fTHoO, soluble in dilute sulphuric acid, but
decomposed by water, with precipitation of liydrated TIjOj.
Anahjns.-^A\l thallium compounds volatile or liable to dissocia-
tion at the temperatiu-e of tho flame of a Bunsen lamp impart to
such flame an intense green colour. The spectrum consists of only
one line, which, of course, has a definite position in the spectrum,
and consequently is easily identified,— a most delicate test
From solutions containing it as thallous salt tho metal is easily
precipitated as chloride, iodide, or chloroplatinato by the corre-
sponding reagents (see supra). Sulphuretted hydrogen, in the
presence of free mineral acid, gives no precipitate; sulphide of
ammonium, from neutral solution!!, precipitates TIjS as a dark
brown or black prcci-^itate, insoluble in excess of reagent. Thallic
salts are easily reduced to thallous by means of solution of sulphur-
ous acid, and thus rendered amenable to the above reactions.
The atomic weight of thallium was determined very carefully by
Crookes. Ho found it TU 204-2,-0 being 16. (W. D.)
THAMES, the most important river in Great Britain,
has its source in several streams on the Gloucestershire
border, the main one having its rise in the parish of Coates,
3 miles south-west of Cirencester. The upper part of the
river, until the junction with the Thame near Dorchester,
is generally called the Isia, a usage to which Camden per-
haps gave currency, who derives the word Tamesis or
Thames from the junction of the names of the two rivers,
the Thame and Isis. The total length of the river from
Thames Head to London Bridge is 170 miles, and ^o Sheer-
ness 228 miles. It drains an area of 6100 miles. It be-
comes navigable 24 miles from its source, near Lechlade,
its waters having been greatly augmented by the junction
of the Colne, Leach, and Churn ; here also ^s the junction
with the Thames and Severn Canal. The height of its
source above sea-level is 370 feet, and that of the stream
it Lechlade 2.50 feet, the average fall between Lechlade
and London Bridge (146 miles) being 21 inches per mile.
The course is remarkably equable throughout. Above
Teddingtnn, 19 miles from London Bridge, the tidal wave
may \m said to cease, and thence uji to Lechlade naviga-
tion is carried on by the aid of locks. A small steamer
plies as high as Oxford. While at Lechlade the daily flow
of the ordinary summer level is about 100 million gallons,
the How at Tcddington is about 380 million gallons. There
are seVen hours of ebb tide and five hours of flow tide.
From the Nore to London Bridge, a distance of 40 milesj
the tidal wave travels in two hours, and in oll)er two hours
it reaches Teddington. Tlie width of the river at Ted-
dington is 2.')0 feet, and at London Bridge the width at
high tide is 800 feet, the depth being 30 feet, while at low
tide the width is 650 feet and the depth 12 feet. Large
barges can ascend the river 1 50 miles above London Bridge,'
vessels of 200 tons as high as the bridge, and of 400 tons'
to the Pool, below which, at Irongate and St Katherine's
wharf, deep-sea steamer navigation commences, while vessels
of any tonnage can come as high as Deptford.
The Thames leaves the Gloucestershire and Wiltshire border near
Buscot, after which it separates successively Berks and Oxford,
Berks and Bucks, Middlesex and Surrey, and, finally, at its estuary,
Essex and Kent. Below Lechlade it has a winding course, passing
near Farringdon and Bampton After receiving the Windrush. it
f masses near the grounds of Blenheim, whence it receives from the
eft the Evenlode, and at Oxford it recci'Jea from the left the Cher.
well. It then flows inia southerly direction to Abingdon, where it
receives on the right the Ock from the valley of the white Horse,
and has a junction with the Wilts and Berks Canal. Turning 111
an easterly direction it is Joined, about a mile after passing Dor.
Chester, by its principal affluent tho Thame. Thence, through an
opening of the Chiltcrn Hills, it passes Bensington, and turns
southwards by Wallingford and Reading, where it receives the
Kennet from the right It then bends northward to Henley, east-
ward to Great Marlow, and southward to Maidenhead, where it
receives from the .right the Loddon. Winding in a south-easterly
direction it passes Eton, Windsor. Datchet, Staines, and Chertsey,
receiving at Staines the Colne from the left Flowing through the
grounds of Hampton Court it reaches Kingston and Teddington,
where its bulk is increased by the tidal wave. From Richmond,
where it receives the Mole, it begins to pass tho villas and .".uburbs
of Loudon. At Gravcsend, 27 miles below London, it has a wi.itl'
of half a mile, and at the Nore lighthouse, 50 miles below London
Bridge, the estuary widens to nearly 10 miles. In tbc tidal ri-aclirs
the principal affluents of the Thames are the Mole at Richmond,
the Brent at Brentford, the Wandle at Wandsworth, the Lea 01
Blackwall, the lioding at Barking Creek, the Ingrebouine at Ram-
ham, and the Medwayat Sheemess. The land adjoinin); the nvi-i
is greatly subject to floods, and from above London there wi-rc lu
ancient times wide stretches of marsh land covered by shalloXv
lagoons. The embankments below London Bridge d.itc possibly
from the time of tho Romans, but their origin is the subject ol
much dispute (see London, vol. xiv. p 840). Between London
Bridge and Chelsea the bed of the nver has been altered .artificially,
and flooding is pn?vented by a marine wall (see London, vol Kiv ;
p. 823). The Thames occupies tho bed of a much larger nrehis-
toric river, the gravels of which adjoin its banks at a consioerable
distance.
The scenery, though scarcoly to bo called picturesque, ^nd in n
certain sense monotonous, has a peculiar chaim (rom the richness
of Its sylvan beauty and its )>leasaot alternation of hill and dale.
The number of islands 'hat occur in the coiusc of the nver add t»
its interest, and afl"ord convenient .seclusion foi the erection of boat-
houses and tents The Thames vies with the Tyne as the principal
river for boat-racing in England, and of course greatly surpasses llic
latter river as regards ^niatcur boat-raciii". the principal fi^tuics
in which arc tho Oxford ami Cambridge bu.-it race and the Hcnlry
regatta. The nver alfords about one hall of the watei fupplv ^il
London, and is the principal outlet for its sewage. It is nii.lri the
government of conservatoi-s, originally constituted in 1857. but
their duties have been extended by several siiliscqiient Acts
Soo TAP fdvfr Thames from Orfftrd In the ,^(i, Is.'.l, Cusseirs Rfynt linct
(richly llluslr.iLi-d). 1885; llu.\lcy'» /*Aj/jtrt5r(i;)Ay, 1877; tiiij Dickens's Dtelwnati
of the Thathfi
THANA, or Taknaii, a di.'*rict in Bombay presidency,
India, with an area of 4243 square miles, lying between
18° 42' and 20° 20' N. lat and 72° 45' and 73' 48' E long.
It extends along the coast for 105 miles, with a bre.iilih of
50 miles, and is confined between the Sahy.'idri Oli.'ils on
the E. and the sea on the 'W., while on the N. it. is bounded
by the Portuguese .territory of Daman and Hiy .Si1r.1t
district, and on the S. by Kol.''iba and Poona districts.
The district 'is well watered nnd wooded, and, except in
the north-east, is a low-lying rice tract brokcn''by' hills.
The spurs of tho GhAts form health resorts ; tho two most
T H A-T H A
221
conspicuous hills are MAlhordn and TungAr. Most of the
bills were ODce fortitiod, but the forts built on them are
now dilaiiidated and useless. The only rivers of any
importance are the Vaitarna and the Ulhds, the former
being navigable to a distance of about 20 miles from its
mouth , the latter is also navigable in parts for small craft.
There are no lakes , but the VehAr and the Tulsi, formed
artificially, supply Bombay city with water. The forests,
lying chiefly in the northern half of the district, occupy
1064 square miles, or about 40 per cent, of the total area.
The average annual rainfall exceeds 90 inches.
lu 1S81 the population of Thana was returned at 908.548 (males
46.S,-23t>, females 440,312), Hindus numbered 806,805. Moham-
med.in9 42, 391. and Christians 39,545 The district has seven
tonnrt with populations exceeding; 10,000, namely, Bandra{14,987),
Tbana (see below), Bhiwandi (13,837), Kalvan (12,910), Basscin
(10.357). Panvel(l0.351), Uran(10.l49). Theareaundercultivaliou
in 1 885-86 waa 1,002, 448 acres, and 768,057 remained uncultivated.
The total area of crojis was 522.810 acres, including 5s35 tx-ice
rroppe*l Rice is by far the most im[)Ortant product, and occupieil
324.680 acre^. it isalso tli« chiel' urticle of export. Sugar cane and
plantama are cultivated largely, as well as mangoes and cocoa-nuts.
In 1S.S5-86 the grosa revenue of the district was £245.182, the
land yielding £130.409. The territory comprised in the district
of Tliana formed i«art of the ilominions of the pt:sbwa, and was
aaoex-^ by the British in 1818 on the overthrow of Baji rao
Since ihen the 0|K'rations to [ml dowu the Koli robbers, w-hich
extended Over several years, have been the only cause of serious
trouble, and lately, in 1874 and l.'*77, there were a number of gang
robberies which were suppressed, but not without difficulty
THANA, chief town of the above district and a station
on the Great Indian Peninsula Railway, lies "JO miles north
east of Bombay city, in 19° IT 30" N lat. and 73° I' 30'
E. long., and in 1881 had a population of 14,456 (males
7S.i6, females 6600). It is a municipal town and a port,
and contains a civil hospital and postoflBce.
THANE, or Thegw. See England, vol. viii. p. 274 ,
and NoBiLiTV, vol xvii. p. 529
THAPSACUS. See Mesopotamia, vol. xvi. p. 49
THAR AND PARKAK, or Tbor and Parker, a dis-
trict in the east of Sind, Bombay presidency, India, with
an area of 12,729 square miles. It lies between 24° 13'
and 26° 15' N lat. and between 68" 51' and 71° 8 E. long,
and IS bounded on the N by Khaipur state, on the E. by
the states of Jaisalmir, Malani, and Jodhpur, on the W by
Hyderabad district, and on the S by the Runn of Cutch.
The district is divided into two portions. The western
part, called the " Pat," is watered by the Eastern Naraaud
the Mithrau canals, which constitute the sole water-system
of the district, and the presence of water has created a
quantity of jungle and marsh , the other part, called the
"Thar," is a desert tract of rolling sandhills, running
northeast and south-west, composed of a fine but slightly
coherent sand. To the southeast of Thar is Pdrkar, where
there are ranges of rocky hills, rising to 'SriO feet above
the surrounding levef, and open plains of stifi clay The
P.lrkar portion of the district contains the ruins of several
old temples , one of these is a Jain temple, which con
tamed an idol of great sanctity and repute, known under
the name of Gorcha The climate is subject to consider-
able extremes in temperature, being excessively hot in the
summer and very cold in winter, the cold increasing as
the sand hills are approached
The census of 1651 returned the population at 203,344 (males
112,400. females 90,944). Hindus numbereil 43,755, Moham-
medans 1119,924. and Christians only 14 Umarkot, the birth-
place of Akbar. is the chief town, with a population of 2828 The
cllief products of the di.4lrict are rice, joar, bajri, cotton, and oil
seeds It IS estimated that only 45 per cent, of the arable area
is under cultivation The exports are chiefly rice, wheat, oilseeds,
caiile. goats, and sheep, tlie imports consist of cotton, metals,
drir.l fruits, piece goods, sugar, and tobacco. The manufactures
ore 1 liii-fly blankets, camel saddles, and coarse cotton cloth. The
hufhtmI revenue in 1885-86 amounted to £44,313, of which the
land supplied £32,927.
Very little is known of the early history of tho district. The
Soda Rajputs, said to be descendants of Parmar Soda, are supposed
to have come into this part of Sind about 1226, when they quickly
displaced the rulers of the country, though, according to othei
authorities, they did not conquer the country from the Suiuras,
the dominant race, before the beginning of the 16th century The
local dynasty of the Sodas su -cumbed to the Kalhoras about 1750,
since which period the district haa been subject more or less to
Sind. The Talpur mirs succeeded the Kalhoras, and built a
number of forts to overawe the people, who were lawless and
addicted to robbery On the British conquest of Sind in 1843 the
greater part of the district was made over to Cutch ; and in 1856
It was wholly incorporated in the province of Sind. In 1859 a
rebellion broke out, which \*'as quickly suppressed.
THARRAWADDY. a district in the Pegu dmsion of
Burmah, with an area of 2014 square miles. It lies
between 17° 30 and 18° 40' N lat and between 95 JU'
and 9S! 10 E long , and is bounded on the N by Pronie,
on the E. by the Pegu Yoma range, on tbe S by Hantlia-
waddy, and on the W by tlenzada. The Pegu Yoma
range separates Tharrawaddy from Toungii district, und
forms the water parting between the rivers Irrawaddy and
Sittang , there are also many small elevations. Tbe
Irrawaddy, which traverses the district for 40 miles, is
the principal navigable river Another important river is
the Hlaing, which runs through the district from north to
south, receiving from the east, through numerous channels,
the drainage of the Pegu Yoma Mountains, which fertilizes
the plain on its eastern bank There are twenty-three
teak forests and four fuel reserves in the district, covering
an area of 817 square miles. Among the wild animals
generally found in the mountains are the elephant,
rhinoceros, bisim, and various kinds of feathered game.
In is.sl lift population was returned at 278.155 (males 143.413,
females 134.742), of whom 19.'<5 were Hindus, 1110 were Jluhani-
medaiis, 270^552 were liud«Ihi,«ts, whilst Christians and aborigines
numbered 2363 and 2135 ropectively The area under cultivatioi
in 1885-K6 cninprised 323.542 acres, and that available for cultiva
tion 186. U02 acres, forests occupied 364,524 acres. The chief pro.
ducts of (he district are nee, sesaiuuni, tobacco, sugar-cane, cotton,
and fruius. The gross revenue of Tharrawaddy in 1885-86 was
£85,254. of whi.h the land yielded £51.523. The history o( the
district is identical with that of Hi-\zaua iq v.). Tharrawaddy
was formed in 1878 out of that portion of HenZada lying east of
the Irrawaddy Its headquarters are at Thoon tshay, on the
stream of the same name
THASOS, an island in the north of the yEgean Sea, off
the coast of Thrace, 3^ miles distant from the plain of the
river Nestus (now the Kara-Su). The island was colonized
at an early date by Pha-nicians, attracted probably by its
gold mines , they founded a temple of Hercules, which
still existed in the time of Herodotus. Thasus, eon of
Phcenix, is said to have been the leader of the Pha'nicians,
and to have given hi^ name to the island. In 720 or 708
B.C. Thasos received a Greek colony from Paros In a
war which the Parian colonists waged with the Sai^ins, a
Thracian tribe, the poet Arcbilochus threw away his shield
The Greeks extended their power to the mainland, where
they owned gold mines which were even more valuable
than those on the island From these sources the Thasians
drew great wealth, their annual revenues amounting to
200 or even 300 talents. Herodotus, who visited Thasos,'
says that the best mines on the island were those which
had been opened by the Phoenicians on the east side of the
island, facing Samothracc. After the capture of Miletus
(494 B.C.) HistiiEus laid siege to Thasos. The attack
failed, but, W'arned by the danger, the Thasians employed
their revenues to build war ships and strengthen theii
fortifications. This excited the suspicions of the Persians,
and Darius compelled them to surrender their ships and
pull down their walls After the defeat of Xerxes the
Thasians joined the Greek confederacy , but afterwards
(in 467, 465, or 464, according to different calculations),
on account of a difference about the minus and mart,-, or
the mainland, they revolted The Athenians defeated
222
T H A — T H E
tthem by sea, and, after a siege that ksted more than two
years, took the capital, Thasos, and compelled the Thasians
to destroy their .walls, surrender their ships, pay an
indemnity and an annual contribution, and resign their
possessions on the mainland. In 411 B.C., at the time of
the oligarchical revolution at Athens, Thasos again revolted
from Athens and received a Lacedaemonian governor ; but
in 407 the partisans of Lacedsemon were expelled, and the
'Athenians under Thrasybulus were admitted. After the
battle of iEgos'potami (405 B.C.), Thasos again fell into
the hands of the Lacedemonians'; but the Athenians must
have recovered it, for it formed one of the -subjects of
dispute between them and Philip of Macedonia. In the
embroilment between Philip III. of Macedonia and the
Romans, _ Thasos submitted to Philip, but received its
freedom at the hands of the Romans after the battle of •
Cynoscephate (197 B.C.), and it was still a " free " state in
the time of Pliny. Thasos, the capital, stood on the north
side of the island, and had two harbours, one of -which
was closed. Archilochus described Thasos as "an ass's
backbone crowned ^\-ith wild wood," and the description
still suits the mountainous island with its forests of fir.
The highest mountain, Ipsario, is 3428 feet high. Besides
its gold mines, the wine, nuts.^and marble of Thasos were
well known in antiquity.. The mines and marble quarries
are do longer worke,<i ; and the chief exports are now fir
timber for shipbuildingj/olive gil, houey, and wax. The
imports consist of liianufactured goods, beasts of burden,
and corn, for the \. island is too..moimtainous to grow
enough com for the 'inhabitants."
In 1858 the population, distributed in" ten villams, was estimated
jt 10,000. The people are Greek Christians, and do not differ in
ippearasce from the inhabitants of the other Greek islands. The
villages are mostly situated at some distance from.the sea ; for the
island suffered from pirates up to a time within living memory.
In the early part of this century sentineb stood on duty night and
day, and at a signal of alarm the whole population, including the
llurkish aga himself, used to hide in the woods. For a description
of the island and its remains of antiquity, see A. Conzo, Jieise auf
den Insdn tUs Ihrakischen Mares, Hanover, I860.'
THAYETMYO, a district in the Irrawaddy divSion of
Burmah, having an area of 2397 square miles, and' lying
between 18° 50'and 19° 30'. N. lat. and between 9*5^ 30'
and 95° 50' E. long. It is bounded on the N. by' the
newly acquired territory of Burmah, on the E. by Toungii
district, on the S. by Prome, and on the W. by Sandoway.
On the west is the Arakan Yoma range, and on the east
the Pegu Yoma ; and the face of the country, where it
does not rise into mountains, is everywhere broken by low
ranges of hills, many of which are barren and destitute of
all vegetation. '. The greater part of the district is wooded,
and th^ Yomas east and west are covered with forests now
mostly preserved. -. The chief river is the Irrawaddy, which
traverses Thayetmyo from north to south. The country
is well drained ; the drainage finds its way to the Irra-
waddy by three main streams (the Pwon, Ma-htiin, and
Ma-de) on the west, and by two (the Kye-nee and Bhwot-
lay) on the east. . Several salt and hot springs occur in
many localities of the district ; petroleum is also found,
and extensive lime quarries exist a few miles south of
Thayetmyo. 'The principal wild animals are leopards,
"frild cats, barking deer, elephants, rhinoceroses, tigers, black
bears, and wild hogs. Silver pheasants and partridges are
found in large numbers, especially in the mountains.
fe> 1881 the. number of inhabitants in the district was 169,560
^males^ 87,308, females 82,252); Hindus numbered 2620, Moham-
medans 1861, Christians 2349, and Buddhists 148,629. The
chief town is Thayetmyo, with a population (1881) of 16,097 ; it is
situated in 19° 18' 43" N. lat. and 95° 15' 40" E. long., on the right
bank of the Irrawaddy. Of the total area of 1,534,080 acres, only
108,167 were under -cultivation ia 1885-86; 547,531 were- avail-
able for cultivation ; and forests occupied 256,256 acres. The chief
products are rice, cotton, oil seeds, aod tobacco ; catch is also very
abundant, and the manufacture of the dye-stuff is carried on exten
sively. Coal has recently been found in the district, and earth oil-
wells exist, but neither coal nor oil has yet been extracted in any
quantity. The revenue of the district in 1885-86 was returned at
£36,702, of which the land contributed £10,482. On the annexa-
tion of Pegu by the British in 1852-53, Thayetmyo was formed into
a subdivision of Prome district;, and in 1870 it was erected into a
separate jurisdiction and placed under a depntj'-commissioner.
' THEATRE {Oiarpoi; " a place for seeing," from 6cao/xat).
The invention of a building specially devised for dramatic
representations was due to the Athenians (see Drama).
At first representations at the Dionysiac festivals were held
on temporary wooden platforms ; an accident, however,
which occurred in 500 B.C. induced the Athenians to begin
the construction of a permanent buQding. This first theatre
was not completed till 340 B.C., and during the interval a
large number of theatres, designed on the same model, had
been erected in many towns of Greece and Asia Minor,
though in' some cases, as at Sparta, they were vised for
asfemblies of the people and dances rather than, for
dramatic performances. : The'great Dionysiac theatre at
Athens was placed in the Lenaeum, an enclostire sacred to
Dionysus, and its auditorium is scooped out of the rock at
the base of the Acropolis on its south-east side. A similar
position on the slope of a hill was always chosen by the
Greeks, and it -was not till the 1st century B.C. that
theatres were built by the Romans on a level site.'
\» ^
190
Fio. 1.— Plan of the Theatre at Myra.
Fig.' 1 shows the plan of the existing theatre at Myra,
in the south-east of Lyoia, which, though late in date, is
built after the old Greek model.^ The seats for the
audience are arranged in concentric tiers, rising like st :p8
one above the other (see fig. 2) ; these mainly rest on a
cavity excavated
in the hillside,
and the whole
space occupied by
the spectators was
called'^"'the koiXov
(Latcafea). About
half-way up the
slope is an encirc-
ling passage (8ia-
^ui/io, prasdnclio).
Fio. 2.— Section BhowiDg the Seats A^ — WitkB.
place for spectators' ^eet.
Flights of steps' divide the seata .into
wedge-shaped blocks (Kf/wi'SfS, ««t«). At the hig?j08t
level behind the top row of seats ran a colonnade, form-
ing a covered passage with a gallery at the top. Rowg
of niches were formed, in the back wall of this, and
also sometimes in the low wall encircling the ZiiZ,i>yita ; in
these niches a series of large bronze jars (ijx"'') "^"^ -®* '
they were intended to catch and repeat the reverbaraUon
of the voices from the stage. 'Vitnivina <iiL 5) givg&
• See Teller and Pullin. Asia Minor, Ixindon, 1865.
THEATRE
22S
elaborate directions for the eotistruction of these vases,
which were to be tuned in a chromatic scale ;' ho niantions
their use by the Greeks, but says he knows of no Rouiau
theatre which possessed these vases, the real utility ol
wbii'h IS very problematical.^ The segtnental floor space
la a Greek theatre was called the 6pxn<rTpa {orchestra), and
was occupied by the chorus , in the centre of this was the
9vfi.e\i;, a platform slightly raised on steps, in the middle
of which was an altar to Dionysus The stage (Trpoo-Kijuoi',
proscenium) was a narrow platform, raised 3 to 5 feei
above the orchestra, with which it commumcated by stairs,
so that the chorus could move from one place to the other ;
the central part of the stage, where the principal actors
tisually stood, was the \cyeiov (pulpttum.) The stage was
tiso connected with a chamber under it {vrouicrfvLov) by a
flight ol stairs called \apwvi.oi xAiMaxtt, by which ghosts
ascended. At the back of the stage was a lofty wall,
which usually reached to the level of the colonnade behind
the highest row of seats , this was the o-ktjvt; (scena), in |
which were three doors leading into the stage from the
actors' dressing rooms behind it' This wall was usually
decorated with three orders of columns and entablatures,
forming an architectural facade, which represented a palace
or temple, before which the action of the play was
supposed to take place. Other movable wooden scenery
was in some cases added in front of the permanent scena ,
«r curtains with woven or embroidered figures were hung
against It to form a background to the actors (irapa.-
irrracr/ia or avAma^ atitsa or sipanttm). More elaborate
painted scenes were also used, but, according to Aristotle
{Poet., IV. 16), not before the time of Sophocles Various
kinds of machinery were used, such as the ix.rjxavri, to suspend
in the air an actor who was playing the part of a god
descending from heaven,* and the fipovreiov. an apparatus
to imitate thunder by stones rolled in metal jars, probably
in the ghoswhamber under the stage Women were not
excluded from the Greek tragic drama, but appear to have
sat by themselves in the upper rows of seats (Athenseus, xii.
534).* At least in late times the chief priestesses of Athens
occupied marble thrones in the irpoeSpia or front row
The remains of the Dionysiac theatre at Athens, the
prototype of all later theatres, were excavated in 1862,
when the proscenium, orchestra, and lower rows of seats
were found in a fair state of preservation It must have
held 30.000 people ; the cavea reaches from the foot of
the Acropolis hill to close under the upper cirtniit wall.
The rock-cut cavern, which was faced with the choragic
monument to Thrasyllus (320 b.c ), seems to have opened
behind the highest row of seats , the face of the rock is
here scarped to a curve concentric with the lines of seats.
The most interesting discovery was that of a row of 67
marble thrones in the front row, each inscribed with the
name of one of the chief Athenian priests or with that of
a secular official.^ The cavea was divided into 1 3 cunei ;
' The well-preserved theatre at Tauromemum, m Sicily, siill has
these niches, which are contnved in the dwarf wall on which the
coIqiuds of the upper gallery stood.
^ Earthenware vases, which are sometimes found under the floors of
medieval church stalls, were probably placed there through a mistaken
notion that this was carrying out Vitruvius's recommendation.
• The central door, used by the chief actor, was ** the royal door **
* Hence the Roman proverbial phrase, " dens ex machina "
• This is shown by Jacobs, Verm. Schnflen, iv. p. -272. dud
Passow in Zimmermann's Zeitschr. /. d. AUerth., 1837, No. 29
* These thrones are of various dates, ranging from the reign of
Augustus or even earlier to that of Hadrian , see Papers of the
Avurican School of Classical Studies at Aihensy vol. L p. 123.
Similar Greek theatre seats of earher date still exist in the- choirs of
acme churches in Rome, where they were once used for the episcopal
or celebrant's, throne. These were probably brought to Rome during
tbo imperial period for use in the Roman theatres or amphitheatres.
The finest example of pure Hellenic work is In S. Pietro in Vincoli;
it is decorated with delicate honeysuckle scroll-work in relief.
a low wall seiiarafed the auditorium from the orchestra.
The front or •riser" of the stage is decorated with fine reliefs
of deities on large marble slabs -These existing fsatures
are mostly restorations of the time of Hadrian, but the
reliefs themselves are of much earlier date. The Boor of
the orchestra is' very late, formed of roughly kiid slabs of
stone, with a large central lozenge in marble, which may
mark the limits of the thymele, and is apparently part of
an earlier pavement.
The position of the Dionysiac theatre, with many of
the chief temples of Athens in sight, and with its glorious
view of Mount Hyraettus, the blue waters of the /Egeau
Sea, and the islands of Salamis and /Egina, should not be
forgotten in reading the dramas of the great tragedians,
witi their impassioned appeals to the glories of nature and
their allusions to the protective presence of the divine
patrons of Attica.
Outside Athens the largest Greek theatres were those at
Megalopolis (Paus., viii. 32), Cnidus, Syracuse, Argos, and
Epidaurus. By the end of the 4th century B.C. every
important Hellenic city possessed its theatre, and new
ones were built or old ones restored throughout the whole
period of Roman domination. The most perfect existing
example is that at Aspendus in Pamphylia,' a building of
the 2d century of our era, in which the early Greek model
has been closely followed, rtspeodus is the only place
where the whole scena with its three orders of columns is
still standing, and every row of seats exists in almost perfect
condition. In this theatre the whole interior appears to
have been covered by an awmng,* supported along the top
of the scena by wooden poles set in rows of perforated
corbels like those on the Colosseum in Rome. The earlier
Greek theatres were probably unsheltered from the sun.
Next to Aspendus, the theatre of Tauromenium, in Sicily
(see Taormina), is the best preserved, at least as far as
regards the scena and the upper gallery round the cavea.
That at Myra, in Lycia (fig. 1), is also in good preservation.
The Roman Theatre. — In the main the theatres of the
Romans were copied closely from those of the Greeks, but
in the Greek theatre
the orchestra occu-
pied more than a
semicircle, while the
Romans made it ex-
actly half a circle.
The accompanying
diagrams (see fig. 3)
show the principle
on which the plan
of each was set out.'
The Romans also
introduced another
important change, in
many cases con
structing theatres on
a level site, not
scooped out of a hiU
side as in the case
of Hellenic theatres.
This necessitated an
elaborate arrange-
ment of substruc-
tures, with raking vaults to carry the seats of the cavea,
and also an additional visible facade with tiers of arcbe.=:
foUovnng the semicircle of the auditorium. The desisn
universally adopted for this appears to have been tiers,
usually three in number, of open arches, with intermediate
z
r ^
\
X ^.
V J
7\..
^^ - •v.X^^.-^— .
/
A
CHEEK
N
\
\.
f '\
^
V
V J
k) ,
I I
\
ys^
/'
^
Fio. 0 — DiagTam to show ine Principle on which*
ihe Plans ufihe Greek and Roman Tbeatre wwc
set out
^ See Texier and Pu]lan, A'sia Minor ^ London, 1865.
® There was also a wooden pent-roof corbelled out pver the ?;tage^
^ See Vitruvius, iii. 8 (Greek theatre) and iii. 2 tO 7 (Roman).
224
T H E A T E E
eosi^p'i columas, each tier being of a differentr order, as is
yiU to be seen in tbe remains of the theatre of Marcellns
in Rome ' The developuient of the use of the stoae-ardi,
and still more the use of concrete for forming vatdts,
enililed ibc- Romans to erect their theatres on any site.
Th') e in Rome virere placed in the level plain of the
pai r^us Martius.
I'uring the Republican period the erection of permanent
theitr^s «ath seats for the spectators was thought to
jsavou.- of Greek liixury and to be unworthy of the stern
simplicity of the Roman citizens, Thas in 154 B.C. Scipio
Nasica induced the senate to demolish the first stone
theatre which had been begun by C. Cassius Longinus
" tanquam iiintile et nociturum publicis moribus," Liv.,
Sjcnt., 48). Even in 55 B.C., when Pompey began the
theatre of which remains still enst in Rome, bethought it
wise to place a shrme to Venus Victruc at the top of the
cavea, as a sort of e.xcuse for having stone seats below it —
the seats theoretically serving as steps to reach the temple.
This theatre, which was completed in 52 B.C., is spoken of
by Vitruvius as "the stone theatre "^ar excellence: it is
said in the Regionary catalogues to have held 40,000
peopla It was also nsed as an amphitheatre for the
bloody shows in whiclj the Romans took greater pleasure
than in, the pnrer intellectual enjoyment of the drama.
At its inaaguration 500 lions and 20 elephants were killed
by gladiators. Near it two other theatres wera erected,
one begun by Julius Caesar and finished^ by Angnstns in
13 B.a, under the name of his nephew Marceilos,^ and
another built about the same date by Cornelius Balbus
(SutiU, -Aug., 29; Pliny, H. N., xxxvL 16). Scanty re-
mains exist of this last theatre, but the ruins of the
theatre of Marcellus are among the most imposing of the
buildings of ancient Rome,
A long account is given by Pliny {H. N., xxxvi 2 and
24) o,f a most magnificent temporary theatre built by the
sedile JL .(Emilius Scaurus in 58 B.a It is said to have
held the incredible number of 80, 000" people, and was a
■work of the most costly splendour. Still less credible is
the account which Pliny gives {H. iV_, xxxvL 24) of two
wooden theatres built by C. Curio in 50^ BX.,"Tvhich were
made to revolve on pivots, so that the two together could
form an amphitheatre in the afternoon, after having been
used as two separate theatres in the morning.
In some cases the Romans buQt two theatres close
together, one for the Greek and the^ other ~for the Latin
drama, as is the case at Hadrian's magnificent "villa near
TivolL The two theatres at Pompeii are still well pre
served, and all Roman provincial towns of any importance
seena to have possessed at least one theatre, designed with
the semicircular orchestra after the Roman fashion (see
fig. 3), The theatres buUt under the Roman rule in
Hellenic cities seem, on the other hand, to have been
usually constructed on the old Greek model, probably
because they were designed by Greek architects^ This is
the case .it Tauromenium, Aspendus, and Myia see (fig
1)^ An important exception to this rule is the still well
preserved theatre of Herodes Atticos, at the south-west
angle of the Athenian Acropolis, which has a semicircular
9rchestra. It "was built in the reign of Hadnan by
Herodes Atticns,* a very wealthy Greek, who spent
eu0rm.)us sums in beautifying the city of Athens ; he
called it the Regillum, after his wife RegiUa. Its cavea.
^ Thia Uesign was also adopted lor their aiophitbeatres, yuch. aa tli©
colossea of Home and Capoa, Uio plan of wliicb resembles tb^ cavea
of two IheatPea stt together so aa to enclose an oval space.
• According lo Livy (xl 51), the -theatre of MaR'ellus iraa boirt on
the site of an earlier one erected by .^niilius Lepidus.
* This theatre was not begun when Pausanias wrote his book Attica^
&nd wa:i complete when he wrote the j4cA^uca.(se&Paii3., vii^^O). It
id illustrated in Man. Jnst., \L, plate 16^
which is excavated in the rock, held about 6000 people ;
it was connected with the great Dionysiac theatre by a.
long and lofty porticiis or stoa, of which considerable
remains stiU exist, probably a late restoration of the stoa
built by Eumenes XL of Pergamum. In the Roman theatre
the "orchestra^" was occupied, not by the chorus, but
by senators and other" persons c^ rank (Vitr., iii 6).*
The Romans used scenery and stage effects of more
elaboration than was the custom in Greece. Vitruvius
(iii. 7) mentions three sorts of movable scenery: — (1)
for the tragic drama, fa9ade3 with columns represent-
ing public buddings ; (2) for comic plays, private houses
with practicable windows ajid balconies;* and (3) for the
satyric drama, rustic scenes, with mountains, caverns, and
trees.
Tke Modern Theatre. — During the Middle Ages miracle
plays with sacred scenes were the favourite kind of
drama ; no special buildings were erected for these, as
they were represented either in churches or in temporary
booths. In the 16th century the revival of the sectdar
drama, which, in the reign of Elizabeth, formed so im-
portant a part of the literature of Englapd, was carried on
in tents, wooden sheds, or courtyards of inns, mostly by
strolling actors of a very low class. It was not till towards
the close of the century that a permanent building was
constructed and licensed for dramatic representations,,
under the management of Shakespeare and Burbage.^ In
* The pit and stalls in a modem theatre occupy an analogoos-
position.
' These are shown on OnEco-Roman vases of the latest type, "with,
paintings of borlesqne parodies of mythological storle-s.
* The first bnilding specially ert:cted in' London for dramatia
purposes was built in 1576-77 by the actor James Eurbage, who was
ohginaUy a carpenter by trade. It was constructed of timber, and
stood in Holywell Lane, Shoreditch, till 1598, when it was pulled
dowTi ; it was known as "Tbe Theatre " par excellences Of almost
equally early date was the "Curtam" theatre, also in Sboreditch. ;
many explanations of its name have been given, but the real one
appears to be that it was so called from tbe plot of groond, known aa
*' The Garten," on which it stood- It prot>ably contmued in use till
the general closing of theatres by order of tbe parliament in 1642.
Tbe "Globe" theatre, famous for its association with Shakespeare,
was buUt by James Buibage, who used the matenab of "The Theatre,'*
in the year 1598. Its site was in Southwark, in a district called
" The Bankside," near the old " Bear Gardens. " It was an octagonal
structure of wood, with, lath and plaster between the main framework.
It was burnt in 1613, rebuilt, and finally pulled down and its eilft
ttiilt over in 1644. Its name was derived from its sign of Atlas sup-
porting the globe. Near tt were two less important theatres, "Th«
Rose," opened in 1592 by Henslowc, and "The Swan," opened in
1598 and probably owned also by Henslowe ; like the Globe, it wa3
an octagonal wood-and-plaster buildicg.
The " Blackfnais" theatre, another of the Burbages' ventures, was
built in 1596 (not 1576, as stated by Collier, Hist, o/ Dramatu: Poetry
aiui Annals of the Stage, new ed., 1879, voL L p. 287), near the oli
Dominican friary. Tlie "Fortune" theatre was built by Edward
AUeyn, tbe great rtval of the Burbages, in 1599-1600, at a total cOft,
including the site, of £1320 It stood between Wbitecross Street
and Golding Lane. It ensted aslata as 1819, when a-diawing ol it
was given by Wnionson (Londina Ulustrata, 1819). The "Red
Bull " theatre was probably originally the galleried court of an inn,
which was adapted for dramatic purposes towards the close of
Elizabeths reign. Other early theatres were tbe " Hope " or " Pails
Garden " theatre, the ' ' Whitefnars " and " Salisbury Court " theatres,
and tbe " Newington " theatre. A-Corious panoramic view of London,
engraved by Visscher in, 1616, shows the Globe, the Hope, and Iha
Swan Iheatrea.
The plan j>f-the"flrst English theatres appears to have had no- con-
nexion with those of -classical times, as was the case m Italy it was
evidently produced in an almost accidental way by the early custom of
jrecuns a lemponny platlonn or sUige in the middle of the open court-
yard of an -inn, in which tbe galleries all round the court formed boxes
for the chief spectators, while tbe poorer part of tbe audience stood
in tbe court on aU Rides of the central stage. Something similar to
this arrangement, unsuitable though it now seems, was reproduced
even in buildings, such as tbe Globe, the Fortune, and the Swan,
wbith were specially designed lor the drama In these and other
early theatres there was a central platform for the stage, Siirrourded
by seats except on tfoe side, where there was a "green-room" or,
THEATRE
225
the ICtU and 17th centuries a'favourite kind of theatrical
representation was in tho form of " masques," with pro-
cessions of grotesquely attired actors and temporary scenic
effects of great splendour and mechanical ingenuity. In
the reigns of James I. and Charles I. Ben Jonson and the
architect loigo Jones worked together in the production of
these " masques," Jonson writing the words and Ijiigo
Jones devising the scenic effects, the latter being very
costly and complicated, with gorgeous buildings, land-
scapes, and clouds or mountains, which opened to display
mimic deities, thrown into relief by coloured lights. These
masques were a form of opera, in which Ben Jonson's
words were set to music. Ben Jonson received no more
for his libretto than Inigo Jones did for his scenic devices,
and was not unnaturally annoyed at the secondary place
which he was made to occupy : he therefore revenged
himself by writing severe satires on Inigo Jones and the
system which placed the literary and mechanical parts of
the opera on the same footing. In an autograph MS.
which still eiists tlte satirical line occurs — " Painting
and carpentry are the soul of meisque" (see Cunningham,
Lift of Inigo Jones, London, 1848).
In Italy, during the 16th century, the drama occupied
a more important position, and several theatres were
erected, professedly on the model of the classic theatre of
Vitruvius. One of these, the Teatro Olimpico at Vicenza,
still exists ; it was designed by Palladio, but was not
completed till I5S4, four years after his death. It has an
architectural scena, with various orders of columns, jows
of statues in niches, aid the three doors of the classic
theatre, but the whole is painted with strong perspective
effects which are very unclassical in spirit Scamozzi,
Palladio's pupil, who completed the Teatro Olimpico, built
another pseudo-classical theatre in 1088 at Sabbionetta for
the duke Vespasiano Gonzaga, but this does not now e.xist.
In France the miracle play developed into the secular
drama rather earlier than in England. In the reign of
Louis XI., about 1467, the "Brothers of the Passion"
had a theatre which was partly religious and |>artly
satiftcal. In the 16th century Catherine do' Medici is
said to have spent incredible sums on the dresses and
scenery for the representation of the Italian ballet ; and
in the middle of the 17th century the regular opera was
introduced at Paris.
At the end of the 18th century the theatres of Sau
Carlo at Naples, La Scala at Milan, and La Fenico at
Venice were the finest in Europe ; all these have been
rebuilt in the present century, but have beea eclipsed by
the theatres of Paris, St Petersburg, and other capitals,
both in size and architectural splendour.
"tireynge-Iiowse." Tlie upper galleiies or boxes completely sur-
roixnjetl the st.ige, even the space over the green-room being occupied
by boxes. This being the .arrangement, it is easy to see why the
octagonal plan wa,<i selecttd in most cases, though not in all, — the
Fortune theatre, for example, was square. An intereating speciGca-
tion and contract for the building of the Fortune theatre is printed by
Halliwell-Pliillip[is {ojj. cit. mfra, p. 164). In all its details the
Fortune is specified to be like the CJlobe, except that it is to he squanj
in plan, and with timbers of heavier scantling. The walls are to be
of wood and pla.<;ter, tho roof tiled, with leail gutters, the stage of
oak, with a "shadow "or cover over it, .iml tho " tireynge-howse " to
have glazed windows. Two sorts of boxes are mentioned, viz.,
"gentlemen's roomes" and "twoo-pennicroomes." A woodcut show-
ing this arrangement of the interior is given in a collection of plays
edited by Kirkraan in 1672.
Much valuable information about the early theatres of London is
given by Wilkinson, Lmditia JUustrata (1819), in which are engrav-
ings of some of them. See also Collier, Ifisl. of Dramatic Poetry,
1879 ; Halliwell-Phillipps, Life of SItakcspearc, 1883 ; Malone,
Hutary of the Stage, 1790, republished by Boswell in 1821 ; the
publications of the New Shakspere Society ; the Ninth Report of
the Historical MSS. Commission ; and a series of articles on early
London theatres, by T. F. Ordish, in The Anliquary. rola. xL, lii ,
>nd xiv., 186S-86.
In tlie niojeni tliestre theanditorium ha-s changed comparatively
little, except that the stalls have gradually encroached upon and
almost absorbed the pit, Tho 'arrangement of the boxes, sUlls,
balcony, and gallery are too well known to need description. Few
people, have, however, any notion of tho immens« size and exti tnie
complication of the space and machinery beiiiiid the, proscenium,
of which the visible stage occupies but a very small pioportioii Tho
stage-floor slopes upwards away from the audience, so that it mjy
appear deeper than it really is by diminishing the foreshorten ing.*
Its extent behind the most distant plane of scenery is usually
quite as great as that which the audience sees. In addition to this
extension of the visible stage there are three other enormous spaces
filled with the machinery to work the scenery.
(1) Of these the first consists of the "winus" {Fr. coulisses), a scries
of chambere or platforms on each side of the stage, arranged many
stories high, and reaching to more than double the height of the
proscenium.
(2) The "dock "or underspace (Fr. rfcisoiis), extending under
the whole area of the stage floor, and about equal in height
to tho proscenium, is divided into three or four stories by suc-
cessive lloors, and contains long rows of immense windlasses
(Fr. (rril) for raising and lowering scenery, and also an elaborate
arrangement of hfts by which actors can suddenly appear or vanish
through the stage floor. A very ingenious device called the "star
trap," invented by an English mechanician (Fr. trapjn Anglaise),
allows an actor to vanish through tho floor vithout any opening
in it being visible. This is done by making the trap door of thin
boards (something like a Venetian blind) fixed on to flexible bands
of steel ; the weight of tho actor makes these optn in the middle
and let him through, while the steel springs close the opening as
soon as they are released. The whole movement is so rapid that
the actor seems to sink through the solid floor ' In all mechanical
appliances for theatrical purposes England is far ahead of other
countries, many of which nave adopted English methods.
(3) Tlio third space, and the largest of all, is that above ths
proscenium — the " flies "(Fr. dessus or cintre). extending over tho
whole of tho stage, and reaching sometimes to nearly double
the height of the proscenium. This also is divided into many
flours,- and contains rows of great windlasses, by which scenery can
be hoisted up out of sight, without folding or bending it. AU
these tlireo parts of tho building arc filled with a complicated but
most orderly scries of ropes, lifts, and machinery of every sort, of
which it is impossible here to give a detailed description.
The oh' method of fi.\iiig scenery was to slide it in two halves
from the wings ing'ooves formed in the stage floor ; these are no
longer used, as mnc^ more realistic effects can be gained by sup-
porting sccnciy from the top, or by building it up with supports of
Us own, so that, instead of a series of painted planes set parallel
to tho stage front, castles, cathedrals, or even whole streets are
actually built upon the stage,
and give striking effects of
real perspective.
A rapidly growing tendency
now exists to increase the
mechanical perfection of the
theatre. The extended use of
iron instcail of wood for the
ttago floor and the various
nini liincs has been a great gain
in space and rapidity of work-
ing. It is now considered a
great object to drop the curtain
as Seldom as possible, and
even the Grand Opera House
of Paris is now left far behind
in the modern competition for
mechanical perfection,' though
from an architectural point of
view it is the most magnificent
and costly of all existing build-
ings of its kind. See fig. 4.
The latest improvement to ^^ ^
prevent delay ))etween the f,6. 4.-PIM1 ot the Gr^d Oper. Homo ti
scenes has been introduced in Paris : 200 feet to the inch,
the Madison Square theatre A, Auditory. B, stage. C, Grand Stairciin. .
in New York city, which has u. Great Salooa. E, Koyil Entranct.
two stages, one above the Greea-room.
other. During the performance of a scene the second stage floor :'i
f|F*-»-*-»-*-JF--<H
* This device Vas practised by the mediaeval architects in most
European countri ss, who .frequently made the floor of cathedrals and
other large churches to slope upwards from west to east, sometimes
as much as from two to three feet.
* Other varieties of this, such as the "vampire trap,'* allow an
actor to vanish through an apparently solid wall.
' In 1883 M. Reyer'a Sigurd was refused at the Paris Opera House
mainly on account of the absence of the necessary mechanical appliancest
xxin. — 29
226
THEATRE
beiD^ l^reparcJ in the under-space, with all its scenery nxed, and
when the curtain falls the first stage rises into the upper regions
and the second floor goes up to take its plac6. Thcsu floors are
accurately balanced by heavy couuterpoi'* weights, so that tho
.Whole of tliese enormous masses are moved with comparatively
little force.
On the whole, for magnificence of effect and mechanical ingenuity
the gicat London pantomimes are unrivalled. Their transforma-
tion-scenes are marvels of the mechanist's, skill, and are often
devised with very high artistic talent. Unhappily much danger
and sutTcring have often to be undergone by tlie women who act the
part of fairies and the like, susjwnded high in the. air by almost
invisible supports, and by the young children who have to squeeze
themselves into pasteboard shells representing insects or reptiles.
., In addition to the above-mentioned parts of the theatre, which
are reserved for the mechanical working of the performance,
much, space is occupied by the "green-room" for the actors,
and rows of dressing-rooms. , An immense deal of storage room
is also required, and some of the Parisian tlieatres have large
magazines (or this purpose in tlie suburbs. In many cases also the
btelier for the scene painters is far removed from the theatre, and
thus far better space id lighting
for the work can be piovid'id. Fig.
5 sliows the plan of the Drury Lane
theatre, in many respects the best
arranged in London.
, Tlie painting of theatrical scenery
has frequently been the ivork of
artists of very high talent, such as
IJaphael in Rome, Wattean, Boucher,
and Scrvandoui in Franco, and Stan-
field in England. Paintings of very ^„
high artistic meut and wonderfully n [f
decorative elTecl are now produced '
for theatrical purposes, especially in
France, Ccrniany, and England.*
In England especially great histor-
ical and autiquariau knowledge are
brouglit to the aid of tins branch of
art. The landscapes in particular
are sometimes woiks of great heauty,
find very beautiful cfl'ects of lake
scenery wilh trees and mountains jj ^j^^.j-Q'
reflected in tlic water are got by set- '-^— "''^*-^^
ting great sheets of plate glass overp,fi.j;__p]-inof Drury LaneThcatre:
the stage floor, slightly Inclined, so luo feet to the inch,
that a real reflexion is thrown bj'the A. Stase. B. Saloon between tho
landscape painted on the scene be- Ch.cfStaircscs. C. Entrance Halt,
hind. Another ingenious device, useil by Wagner at Baircuth and
also in England for mapjical scenes, was to form a thin and semi-
transparent cur'tain-Of vapour, which was seut^up by a perforated
steam-pipe conci-alcd in a groove in the stage.
The various methods of lighting used are an important item in
the i>roduction of striking cflccts. Tho old system of a row of
/'foot-ligliLs," witli their unpleasant upward shadow, is nowalmost
obsolete. Dip candles were Uiied till 1720, when moulded caudles
were introduced into French theatres. The next improvement
was tlic lamp of M. Argand, with its circular wick. "" In 1,822 gas
was first um.<1 in a Parisian tlieairo, next came the oxyhydrogen
lime li^ht, uhcd for special efl'ccts, and now electric lighting is
rajiidiy superseding all other kinds.
/rhfold way of producing lightning was to blow lycopodium or
powdered res.iii wiih bellows tlirougli a flame, and this is still used
in realistic elleelb of conflagrations. More elfcctivo lightning is
now made by ll.ashing the electric light behind a scene painted
wilh i-Iouds, in which a zigzag aperture has been cut out and filled
with a transpan-nt substance. Tjjunder is made by shaking large
sheets of iron, by rolling cannon balls above the ceiling of the
audiloriuni, juid by clapping together a series of planks strung
together on two ropes. Wind is imitated by a machine with a
eoggeit cylinder, which revolves against coarse cloth, tightly
strelehwl Thu sound of^rainjs produced by shaking^parched
\}i:iis in y mot.-il cylinder.
The fii-eVjirstni is iiuw usually~arrsnged either below or above the
prpsefiiHim. •!/ that the musicians aro not visible. The prompter
i» pl.ucd at ono side, in the wings, so as to avoid the disfigure-
ment of the hood-like box which formerly nsed to cut the front
lineul the sUigc iuto^two halves. j(,.Thisis. however, le^ convenient
for the actors, i
, Till the niid<l)o oPthe' present century little trouble or expense
was laid out on dresses and accessories. Certain conventional
costumes, made of clieapstufl', wero used for each part, with but
little regard to liiBtorical eorrectnesa. Armour and weapons were
» .Secnc pjiintmcs iiic usually cxeciilcd jn distemper, frcqucnllv In nn at-.licr
Jomied In the loof 0( the theatre ; the artist partly woika wlih hla canvas
laid upon the lloor, or. where epace allows, ihe palnhtnc h IninR aealnst a wnll
and tiieariist works from a scoOoM, with ticia of bOartlmi; ariunRed so that
Ne con r/y>ch »oany part of tho QOnt fnTifna.
made of pasteboard coverea with metal toil, "and stage jewellery
was made of small cup-like pieces of tin formed with many facets.
Now, however, no trouble or expense is spared to get tho costumes
and vai'ious properties archawlogically Correct : real jewels and the
richest stuffs are often used for tlie dresses, as well as real furni-
ture of the most costly sort for the furnishing of the scenic rooms.
'As much as £20,000 is sometimes' spent; before tho play can
be presented. All this sj^lcndour and realism is vi^ry hostile tc
the true interests of the drama ; magnificent scenery and costly
accessories are exjiectcd by the audience, mther than good acting.
In some scenes, such as the ball in the first act of Romeo and
Juliet, as recently represented at the Lyceum, the words and actiiie
of the chief performci-s were .'almost lost in the general bustle and
splendour of the scene. Frequently, too, the noise of setting up
some elaborate scene behind almost drowns the^oices of the actors
in front of the drop scene. - —
Another seiious cause of tiie present low "state'of '"acting in
England is the fact that a ]>opiilar play sometimes runs for several
liundred nights without a lueak, thus reducing the perfor-mers tc
tlio condition of machines. Tlic modern system pf expending
large sums on dresses and decoration naturally prevents, that
frenuent change of subject which is so desirable, and which in
France is jirovulcd for by the rules of the Theatre Fraiicais, where
acting of a very liigh order of merit still survives. ■
The luesent system, aided by tho enormous size to which London
has unhaiipily grown, has completely changed the character of the
andience. Instead of an audience largely comi'Oscd of hahituis^
who by their constant attendance at the theatre had gained some
knowledge of what acting ought to be, and were jirepared to
show their disgust at clap-trap or ranting, we liavc now practically
a fresh and ignorant audience every night, who, by their applause
of what is woi-st and their coldness to real refinerticnt of acting, do
much to lower the dramatic standard and demoralize the actors.
For fuilher informalion the reader Ls referred to l>Ci\\r\cX., Thf at res de Paris^
I8il ; Saloninnb. Co7istruetion des Theatres^ Pari.s, 1S71 ; Garnk-r, Le Nouvtl
Opera dc Purts, 1870-81 ; Coutant, Pnnripaux TheiUres Modcmes, Paris, 1870;
Muynct, L£T)>:e>sdu Thedtre, Paris. 1S7-1 ; Pougin, Dictionnaire du Th^&irt^
Paria, 1883. ' ' - - (J. H. M.)
Law Relating to ^HEATRza
- ' The regulation of the theatrb by legislation can be traced back
to the time of the lower empire, in which it depended almost
wholly upon constitutions of Theodosius and Valentinian, incor-
ftorated in the Theodosian Code (tit. xv. 5, 6, 7), and a century
ater to a large extent ado|)ted by Justinian. In the whole of this
law there is an evident attempt at a compromise l>etween the doc-
trines of Christianity and the old Roman love of public spectacles
of all kind.s. It deals less with theatrical representations propter
tlian with gladiatorial contests and chariot races.- The Theodosian
Code provided that the sacraments were not to be administered tc
actoi^s save where death was imminent, and only on condition tLat
the calling should be renounced in case of recovery. Daughters of
actors were not to be forced to go on the stage, provided.that they
lived an honest life. An actress was to bo allowed to quit *he
stage in order to become a nun. There were, also numerc is
sumptuary regulations as to the dress of actors. None of the law
which has been mentioned so far was adopted by Justinian, but
what follows was incorporated in Cod. xi. 40 (" De Spectaculis et
Scenicis"), which consists entirely of extracts from the Theodosian
Code of a very miscellaneous nature. Provision was made for the
exhibition of public games and theatrical spectacles by magis-
trates, practically confining them to exhibiting in their own cities.'
Statues of actors were not to be placed in the public streets, but
only in the proscenium of a theatre. A governor of a province
was entitled to take the money raised for public games for the
purpose of repairing the city walls, provided that he gave security
for afterwards celebrating the games as usual In Cod. iii. 12, 11
(" Dc Feriis") is a constitution of Leo and Anthemius lorbidding
dramatic representations on Sunday. The Dincst (iii. 2) classed
all who acted for hireC'omrtes proj^ter pecuniam in sccnam pro-
deiintes") as infamous persons, and as such debarred them from
filling public offices. A mere contract to perform, not fulfilled, did
not, however, carry infamy with it. By the 51st of the NovcUx
actresses could retire from the stage without incurring a penalty,
even if they bad given sureties or taken an oath.
■ In England, as in other countries of western Europe, theatrical
legislation was of comparatively recent introduction. Such legisla-
tion was unnecessary as long as tho theatre was under the control
of the church and actors under its protection (see Drama). The
earliest regulations were therefore, as might be expected, made by
the church rather than by the state. The ecclesiastical ordinances
wero directed chiefly against the desecration of churches, though
they sometimes cxten'^'id to forbidding attendance of the faithful
as spectators at plays of a harmless kind. ^ Sacraments and Chri.stian
' The word ludi aeema Bometimea to Inctadi-., sometiracs to exclude, dramatic
performances. Its meaning iu a partlcnlar lu&tance depends on tho coulext.
8 A large irambcr of eocb ordinances will be (onnd cited in Prj'nne, Uisti ith
matCix; hosauet, JUtLrimai eC Rejfcztoru xur la Comedie\ Mariana, De SpectacytfUy
Smitti. Dirtiftnaf-y of Chritlian Antiquities, art%. " Arturs." ar.d "Theatre,"
T H E A T K E
227
banal were denied^by the canon law to actors, whose gains, said
St Thomas, were acquired ex turpi causa.^ The same law forbade
plan's to be acted by the clergy, even under the plea of cnstom, 83
in Christmas week, and followed the Code of Justinian in enjoin-
ing the clergy not to consort with actors or be present at plays
(see the Dtcrctals of Gregory, iii. 1, 12, and 15, "De Vita et
Hooestate Clericorum "). As lately as 1603 canon l.txxviii. of the
canons Of the Church of England enacted that churchwardens were
not to siSffer plays in churches, chapels, or clmrchyards.
The Reformation marks the period of transition from the ecclesi- .
astical to the non-ecclesiastical authority over the drama. Precau-
tions began to be taken by the crown and the legislature against
. the acting of unauthorized plays, by unauthorized persons, and in
1 unauthorized places, and the acting of plays objectionable to the ■
• Government gn political or other grounds. The protection of tho
church being withdrawn, persons not enrolled in a fixed company
or in possession of a licence from the crown or justices were liable
to severe penalties as vagrants. The history of the legislation on
this subject is very curious. An Act of the year 1572 (14 Eliz. c
5) enacted that "all fencers, bearwards, common players of inter-
lades, and minstrels (not belonging to any baron of this realm, or
to any, other honourable person of greater degree)," wandering
abroad Tvithout the licence of two justices at the least, were subject
"to be grievously whipped and burned through the gristle ef the
right ear with a hot iron of the compass of an inch about " This
statute, was superseded by 39 Eliz. c. 4, under which the punish-
ment of the strolling player is less severe, and there is no mention
of justices. Tho jurisdiction of justices over the theatre disappears
from legislation from that time until 17SS. In 39 Eliz. c i there
is a remarkable exception in favour of persons licensed by Dutton
of Dutton in Cheshire, in accordance with his claim to liberty and
jurisdiction in Cheshire and.Chester, established in favour of his
ancestor by proceedings in qno vxtrranlo in 1499. The stricter
worS(ng«f this Act as to the licence seems to show that the licence
had been abused, perhaps that in some cases privileges had been
assumed without authority. In 14 Eliz. c. 5 the privileges of a
playeuattached by service of a noble or licence from justices, in
the later Act only by service oi a noble, and this was to be attested
under his hand and arms. The spirit of the Acts of Elizabeth
frequently appears in later legislation, and the unauthorized player
was 4 vagabond as lately as the Vagrant Act of 1744, which was
law till 1S24. He is not named in the Vagrant Act of 1824. The
Theatre Act of 1 73 7 narrowed the definition of a player of interludes,
for the purposes of punishment as a vagabond, to mean a person act-
ing interludes, tc, in a place where he had no legal settlement.
Before the Restoration there were privileged places as well as
privileged persons, e.g., the court, the universities, and the inns
of court With the Restoration privilege became practically con-
fined to the theatres in the possession of those companies (or their
representatives) established by the letters patent of Charles II. in
1662 (see Drama). In spite of the patehts other and unprivileged
theatres gradually arose. In 1735 Sir John Barnard introduced a
bill " to restrain the number of playhouses for playing of interludes,
»nd for the better regulation of compion players." On Walpoje's
wishing to add a clause giving parliamentary sanction to the juris-
diction of the lord chamberlain, the mover withdrew the bill. In
1737 Walpole introduced a bill of his own for the same purpose,
there being then six theatres in London. The immediate cause of
the bill is said to have been the production of a political extrava-
ganza of Fielding's, The Golden Rump. The bill passed, and the
Act of 10 Geo. II. c. 2S regulated the theatre for more than a
century. Its effect was to make it impossible to establish any
theatre except in the city of Westminster, and in places where the
king should in person reside, and during such residence only. The
Act did not confine the prerogative within the city of Westminster,
but an a matter of policy it was not exercised in favour of the non-
privileged theatres, except those where the " legitimate drama "
was not performed. The legitimate drama was thus confined to
Covent Garden, Drury Lane, and the Haymarket from 1737 to
1843. In the provinces patent theatres were established at Bath
by 8 Geo. III. c. 10, at Liverpool by 11 Ceo. III. c. 16, and at Bristol
by 18 (Seo. III. c. 8, the Act of 1737 being in each case repealed
pro tanto. The acting of plays at the universities was forbidden by
lOGeo.II. c. 19. It is not a little remarkable that the universities,
once possessing unusual dramatic privileges, should not only have
lost those privileges, but have in addition become subject to special
disabilities. The restrictions upon the drama were found very
inconvenient in the large towns, especially in those which did not
possess: patent theatres. In one direction the difficulty was met
by the lord chamberlain granting annual licences for performances
of operas, pantomimes, and other spectacles not regarded as legiti-
Jnale drama. In another direction relief was given by the Act of
1783 (28 Geo. III. c. 30), under which licences for occasional per-
> For this rcav)n it appears to have been tiie custom In France for actors to
w mat lied onder ttie Dame of musicians. See Ifi-'t Parttmentaire de ta Revolu-
inn frartfaise. vol. Ti. p. S'il . Tlie dlfflcDtties attendine tlie funeral of Mouias
^.v ) are well l(no«ni.
formances might be granted in general or quarter sessions for s-
period of not more than sixty days. The rigtits of patent theatres
were preserved by the prohibition to grant such a licence to any
theatre within 8 miles of a patent theatre. During this period
(1737-1.843) there were several decisions of the courts which con-
firmed the operation of the Act of 1737 as creating a monopoly.
The exclusive rights of tlie p.-itjnt theatres were also recognized in
the ilusic Hall Act of 1752, and in private Acts dealing with
Covent Garden and Drury Lane, and regulating the rights of
parties, the application of charitable funds, ic. (see 16 Geo. III.
cc. 13, 31; 60 Geo. III. c ccxiv; 52 Geo. III. c xix; 1 Geo. IV.
c. Ix.). The results of theatrical monopoly were beneficial neither
to the public nor to the monopolists themselves. In 1S32 a select
committee of the House of Commons recommenced the legal
recognition of "stage-right" and the abolition of theatrical
monopoly. Ttie recommendations of the report as to stage-right
were carried out immediately by Bulwer Lytton's Act, 3 and 4
Will. IV.c. 15 (see Copyright). But it was not till 1843 that
the present Theatre Act, 6 and 7 Vict c. 68, was passed, a previous
bill on the same lines having been rejected by the House of Lords.
The Act of 1843 inaugurated a more liberal policy, and there, is
now complete " free trade " in theatres, subject to the conditions
imposed by the Act. The growth of theatres since that time has
been enormous. In 1885 there were forty-six licensed under the
Act in London, Liverpool coming next with ten. Nor does the
extension seem to have been attended with the social dangers antici-
pated by some of the witnesses before the committee of 1882.
The suppression of objectionable plays was the ground of many
early statutes and proclamations. While the religious drama wai
dying out, the theatre was used as a vehicle for enforcing religious
and political views not always as orthodox as those of a miracle
play. Thus the Act of 34 and 35 Hen- VllL c. 1 madeit oritcinal
to play in an interlude contrary to the orthodox fiith declared, or
to be declared, by that monarch. Profanity in theatres seems. to
have been a crying evil of the time. The first business trf thj
Government of Edward VI. was to pass an Act reciting that t^t
most holy and blessed sacrament was named in plays by such vilt
and unseemly words as Christian ears did abhor to hear rehearsed,
and inflicting fine and imprisonment upon any person advisedly
contemning, despising, or reviling the said most blessed sacrament
fl Edw. VI. c. 1). A proclamation of the same king in 1549 forb.ide
the acting of interludes in English on account of their dealing with
sacred subjects. In 1556 the council called attention to certain
lewd persons in the livery of Sir F. ieke representing plays and
interludes reflecting upon the queen and her consort and the
formalities of the mass. The same queen forbade the recurrence
of such a representation as the mask given by Sir Thomas Pope in
honour of the princess Elizabeth at Hatfield, for she "misliked
these follies." By tho Act of Uniformity, 1 Eliz. c. 2, it was made
an offence punishable by a fine of a hundred marks to speak any-
thing in the 'Jorogation, depraving,'or despising of the Book of
Common Prayer in any interludes or plays. In 1605 "An Act to
restrain the Abui.s of Players "" made it an oflence punishable by
a fine of £10 to jestinply or profanely speak or use certain sacred
names in any stage pLvy, interlude, show, may-game, or pageant
(3 Jac. I. c. 21). In consequence of the appearance of players in
the characters of the king of Spain and Gondomar, an ordinance
of James 1. forbade the representation on the stage of any living
Christian king. The star chamber in 1614 fined Sir John Vorke
for representing a Catholic drama in his hoi/se. The first Act of
the reign of Charles I. forbade acting on Sunday (see SuNDAV)
Puritan opposition to the blieatre culminated in the ordinance ot
the Long Parliament (sec vol. vii. p. 434). After the Restora-
tion there are few royal proclamations or ordinances, the necessary
jurisdicrion being exercised almost entirely by parliament and tire
lord chamberlain. One of the. few post-Restoration royal procla-
mations is that of February 25, 1665, restraining any but the com-
pany of the Duke of York 8 theatre from entering at the attiring
nouso of the theatre.
Preventive censorship of the drama by an officer of state dates
from the reign of Elizabeth, and is perhaps the only example ol
censorship of the press still existing in the United Kin^'dom
(see Press Laws). Such a censorship is not unknovvn in other
countries, and it seems to have existed even in republican Romc,^
if one may judge from Horace's line, —
"Quae neque In eede sonent cenantia Jodlce Tarpa."
The master of the revels appears to have been the dramatic censor
from 1545 to 1624, when he was superseded by the lord chamber
lain. In some cases the supervision was put into commissioiu
Thus with TUney, the master of the revels in 1581, were associated
by order of the privy council a divine and a statesman. In other
cases it was delegated, as to Daniel the poet by warrant in 1603.
The proposal to give statutory authority to the jurisdiction of the
lord chamberlain led, as has been already stated, to the withdrawal
of Sir John Barnard's bill in 1735, and to considerable deb.ato before
tho bill of 1737 became law Lord Chesterfield's objection to th&
bill in tho House of Lords was not unreasonable. "If the players, ""
228
THEATRE
said he, "are to be punished, let it be by the laws of their country,
add not by the will of an irresponsible despot." The discretion
reposed by the Acts of 1737 and 1843 in the lord chamberlain has
been, according to the report of a select committee of the House of
Commons m 1866, on the whole wisely exercised. On the other
hand, there have been instances whero perhaps both he and his
subordinate officer, the examiner of stage plays, have been some-
what nice in their objections. Thus, during the illness of George
III., King Lear was inhibited. George Colman, when examiner,
showed an extraordinary antipathy to such words as " heaven " or
"angel." The lord chamberlain's powers are still occasionally ex-
erted in the interests of public decency, less frequently for political
reasons. Before 1866 the lord chamberlain appears to have taken
into consideration the wants of the neighbourhood before granting
3 licence, but since that year such a course has been abandoned.
The existing law of theatres is mainly statutory. It will be
convenient to treat it as it regards the building, the performance,
and the licensing of the building and of the performance. A
theatre may be defined with sufficient accuracy for the present
purpose as a building in which a stage play is performed for hire.
It will be seen from the following sketch of the law that there arc
a considerable number of different persons, corporate and unincor-
porate, with jurisdiction over theatres. A consolidation of the
law seems urgently required, and the placing of jurisdiction in
the hands of a central authority for the United Kingdom. The
committee of 1866 recommended the transfer to the lord chamber
lain of the regulation of all places of amusement, and an appeal
from him to the home secretary in certain cases, as also the exten-
sion of his authority to preventive censorship in all public enter-
tainments; but no legislation resulted. Several bills for the
amendment of the law have been recently introduced, but hitherto
without success in the face of more burning political quesfions-
Building. — A theatre (at any rate to make it such a building as
can be licensed) must be a permanent building, not a mere tent or
booth, unless when licensed by justices at a lawful fair by § 23 of
the Act -^f 1843. It must, if in the metropolis, conform to the
regulations as to stnicture contained in the Metropolitan Building
Acts and the Metropolis Management Acts, especially the Act of
1878 (41 and 42 Vict. c. 32). This Act makes a certificate of
structural fitness from the Board of Works necessary as a condition
precedent f jr licence in the case of all theatres of a superficial area
of not less than 500 square feet licensed after the passing of the
Act, gives power to the board in certain cases to call upon pro-
prietors of existing theatres to remedy structni-al defects, and
enables it to make regulations for protection from fire Such
regulations were issued by the board on May 2, 1879 As to
theatres in provincial towns, the Towns Improvement Act, 1847,
and the Public Health Act, 1875. confer certain limited powers
over the building on raunicipal corporations and urban sanitary
authorities- In many towns, Bowever, the structural qualifications
of buildings used as theatres depend upon local Acts and the by-
laws made under the powers of such Acts. To a more limited
extent the rules made by justices may en brce certain structural
requirements.
Performarice. — To constitute a building where a performance
takes place a theatre, the performance mu.<;t be (a) of a stage play,
and (M for hire, (a) By § 23 of the Act of 1843 the word " stage-
play" includes tragedy, comedy, farce, opera, burletta, interlude,
melodrama, pantomigie, or other entertainment of the stage, or
any part thereof The two tests of a stage play appear to be the
excitement of emotion and the representation of action The ques-
tion whether a performance is a stage play or not seems to be one
■of degree, and one rather of fact than of law A hnlUt d'actian
would usually be a stage play, but it would be otherwise with a
balUt dixKrtissement. § 14 empowers the lord chamberlain to for-
bid the acting of any stage play in Great Britain whenever he may
be of opinion that it is fitting for the preservation of good manners,
decorum, or the public peace to do so § 15 imposes a penalty of
JE50 on any one acting or presenting a play or part of a play after
such inhibition, and avoids the licence of the theatre where it
appears. Regulations of police respecting the performance are
contained in 2 and 3 Vict c. 47. and in many local Acts A per-
formance may also be proceeded against as a nuisance at common
law, if, for instance, it be contra bonos -mores or draw together a
great concourse of vehicles, or if so much noise be heard in the
neighbourhood as to interfere with the ordinary occupations of life
Very curious instances of proceedings at common law are recorded
In 1700 the grand jury of Middlesex presented the two playhouses
and also the bear-garden on Bankside (the "Pans garden" of
Henry VIII., act v. ec. 3) as riotous and disorderly nuisances In
1819 certain players were prosecuted and convicted before the court
of great sessions of Wales for acting indecent open-air interludes
at Bemew in Montgomeryshire. Performances on Sunday. Good
Friday, and Christmas day are illegal (see Sunday) Regulations
as to the sale of intoxicating liquors dunng the performance are
made by the Licensing Acta and other public general Acts, as well
.as by local Actt and rules made by justices. It is frequently a con-
dition of the licence granted to provincial theatres that no excise-
ablo liquors shall be sold or consumed on the premises. The
Children's Dangerous Performances Act, 1879 (42 and 43 Vict c.
34), forbids under a penalty of £10 any public exhibition or per-
formance whereby the life or limbs of a child under the age of
fourteen shall be endangered. It also makes the employer of any
such child indictable for assault where an accident causing actual
bodily harm has happened to the child, and enables the court on
conviction of the employer to order him to pay the child coinpensa*
tion not exceeding £20 (6) The performance must be for hire.
§ 16 of the Act of 1843 makes a building one in which acting for
hire takes place, not only where money is taken directly <>r in-
directly, but also where the purchase of any article is a condition
of admission, and where a play is performed in a place in which
exciseable liquor is sold In a recent case of Shelley v. Beihcll
{Law Reports, 12 Queen's Bench Division. 11) it was held that the
propnetor of a private theatre was liable to penalties under the
Act, though he lent the theatre gratuitously, because tickets of
admission wore sold in aid of a charity.
Licensing of Building. ~hy § 2 of the Act of 1843 nil theatres
(other than patent theatres)-most be licensed. By § 7 no licence
is to be granted except to the actual and responsible manager, who is
to be hound by himself and two sureties for due observance of rules-
and for securing payment of any penalties incurred The metro
politan theatres other than the patent theatres (as far at least as
they are included in the boroughs named in the Act of 1843) are
licensed- by the lord chamberlain. By § 4 his fee on grant of a
license is not to exceed lOs. for each month for which the theatre
is licensed. The lord chamberlain appears to have no power to
make suitable rules for enforcing order and decency. He can,
however, by § 3. suspend a licence or close a patent theatre whete
any not or misbehaviour has taken place
Provincial theatres fall under three ditferenl licensing authorities.
The lord chamberlain licenses theatres in Windsor and Brighton,
and theatres situated tn the places where the queen oocasion-ill^
resides, but only during the time of such occasional residence (§ 3).
Theatres at Oxford and Cambridge, or within M miles thereof, are
licensed by the justices having jurisdiction therein, but before any
such licence can come into force the consent of the chancellor or
vice-chancellor must be given. The rules made by the justices for
the management of the theatre are subject to the approval of the
chancellor or vice chancellor, who may also impose such conditions
upon the licence as he thinks tit, In case of any breach of the
rules or conditions, he may annul the licence (§ 10) All other
provincial theatres are licensed by four or more justices at a special
session held within twenty-one days alter application for a licence
shall have been made to them (§ 5). The fee is not to exceed 5s.
for each month for which the theatre is licensed (§ 6) The justices,
like the lord chamberlain, appear to have no discretion as to jjrant-
ing a licence. Their act is purely ministerial and confined to
ascertaining that the applicant is the actual and responsible
manager, and that he and his sureties are of sufficient substance to
provide the requisite Iioods. § 9 gives the justices authority to
make at the special session suitable rules for enforcing order and
lecency at the theatres licensed by them, and of rescinding or
altering such rules at a subsequent special session. It also gives a
secretary of state power to rescind or alter such rules, and |o make
other rules. In case of riot or breach of the rules, the justices may
order the theatre to be closed, and it thereupon becomes an
unlicensed house Penalties are imposed by the Act for keeping
or acting in an unlicensed theatre, and for producing or acting in
an unlicensed play.
Licensing Performance. — A stage play must be duly licensed
before performance. § 12 of the Act of 1843 prescribes that a copy
of every new play and of every addition to an old play, and of every
new prologue or epilogue or addition thereto (such copy to be
signed by the master or manager), shall be sent to the lord cham-
berlain, a, id. if the lord chamberlain does not forbid it within seven
days, n may be represented § 13 empowers the lord chamberlain
to fix a scale of fees for examination . the fee is now two guineas
for a play of three or more acts, one guinea for a play of less than
three acts AM plays represented previously to the Act are held
to be licensed A plav once licensed is licensed once for all. unless
the licence be revoked under § 14 The examination is the duty
of a special officei of the lord chamberlain 8 department, the
examiner of stage plays.
Music Halls — Music was at no lime the object of restrictions as
severe as those imposed upon the drama. The present Music Hall
Act (25 Ceo II. c. 36) was passed in 1752, probably in consequence
of the publication in 1750 of Fielding's Inquiry into ike Causes of (lie
late Increase of Robbers. It is remarkable that two works of the same
writer should from opnoiite causes have led to both theatre and
music hail legislation of lasting importance The Act wasonginally
fassed for a terra of three years, but was made perpetual by 28 Geo
I. c. 19 It applies only to music halls withn 20 miles of London
and Westminster Every such music hall mu?t be licen<ied at the
Michaelmas quarter sessions, the licence to be signified under the
T H E — T H E
229
hands »nd seals of four or more justices. The licence may be
granted for music or dancing or both. Public notice of the licence
IS to be given by affixing over the door the inscription " Licensed
pursuant to Act of Parliament of the t«enty-6fth of King George
the Second." The penalty for keeping an unlicensed music hall is
£100. Music halls beyond the radius of 20 miles from London and
We.stminster arc usually governed by local legislation, which in
most cases follows, inutalis mutandis, the lines of the Act of 1752.
The music hall, like the theatre, must generally fulfil certain struc-
tural requirements. In one important respect the law is more
lenient to the music hall than to the theatre. A licence is neces-
sary for a single performance of a stage piay, but it is only habitual
music or dancing that requires a music hall licence.
Scotland. — In Scotland the theatre has always exercised a smaller
amount of influence than in England, and there has been little
exclusively Scotch legislation on the subject. An Act of 1555, c.
40, discountenanced certain amusements of a semi-theatrical kind
by enacting that no one was to be chosen Robert Hude {sic). Little
John, abbot of Unreason, or queen of May. A proclamation of
James VI. in 1574, and an Act of 1579, c. 12, followed the lines of
English legislation by making persons using unlawful plays, such
aa jugglery or fast and loose, punishable as vagabonds. In 1574
the General Assembly claimed to license plays, and forbade represen-
tations on Sunday. As in England, the licensing power seems
then to have passed from the church to the crown, for in 1599
James VI. licensed a theatre at Edinburgh. The Act 1672, c. 21,
exempted comedians while upon the st.ige.from the sumptuary
provisions of the Act respecting apparel. The chamberlain of
Scotland, while such an office existed, appears to have exercised a
certain police jurisdiction over theatres. The Theatre Act of 1843
extends to Scotland, as did also the previous Act of 1737.
Ireland. — Theatrical legislation, as far as it went, was based
npon English models. Thus ridicule of the liturgy was forbidden
by 2 liliz. c. 2 (Ir.); common players of interludes and wandering
minstrels were deemed vagabonds, 10 and 11 Car. I. c. 4 (Ir.).
In 1786 an Act was passed to enable the crown to grant letters
ratent for one or more theatres in Dublin city and county, 2C Geo.
II. c. 57 (Ir.). The preamble alleges that the establishing of a
well-regulated theatre at the seat of government will be productive
of public advantage and tend to improve the morals of the people.
Exceptions from the restrictions of the Act were made in favour of
entertainments for the benefit of the Dublin lying-in hospiial and
exhibitions of horsemanship or puppet-shows.
Unilcd States. — Public entertainments, dramatic or otherwise,
arc usually under the control of the municipal authoritie.1. In
some States, such as New York and Massachusetts, there is State
legislation, requiring places of public entertainment to be licensed
by the proper authority. In many States it is a condition of the
licence that intoxicating liquors shall not be sold in such places.
Other conditions, more or less usual, are that there shall be no
Sunday or dangerous performances, that acrobats shall be properly
protected, and that female waiters shall not be employed. Sinic-
tural qualifications are in some cases made necessary. Thus in
1885 the New York legislature passed an Act containing many
minute provisions for ensuring the safety of theatres against fire.
A characteristic piece of legislation is the New York Act of 1S73,
c. 186, enacting that no citizen is to be excluded from a theatre by
reason of race, colour, or previous condition of servitude. This
Act of course merely carries out the important principle affirmed
in art. xiv. of the amendments to the constitution of the United
States. Seo Privilege.
The mf^st recent if not the only work on the law relating to theatres Is Gearv'3
Law of Theatres and Music Halts, 18S3. (J. Wt.j
THEBES. See Egypt, vol. vii. p. 776 sq.
THEBES (anciently 0^/?ai, Thehx, or in poetry some-
tiines 0r;/3o., in modern Greek Phiva, or, according to the
corrected pronunciation, Thivx), one of the most interest-
ing towns in Greece, is situated on low hilly ground of
gentle slope a little north of the range of Citha^ron, which
divides Boeotia from Attica, and on the edge of the
Boeotian plain, about 44 miles from Athens, whence it is
now reached by two carriage-roads. It has about 3500
inhabitants, and is the seat of a bishop. The present town
occupies the site of the ancient citadel, the Cadmea ; two
ixagments of ancient wall are visible on the north, and
another, belonging either to the citadel or the outer wall,
on the south. Two streams, rising a little i^outh of the
town, and separated by an average distance of about half
a mile, flow on the two sides, and are lost in the plain.
These are the ancient Ismenus on the east and Diice
'Ai'pio/) on the west, which gave to the town its name
'iToTa^?. The Dirce, row Platzi6tissa. has several
springs. Frotn the west side of the Cadmea another
copious fountain (Paraporti) falls to the Dirce. In a
suburb to the east is another (Fountain of St Theodore),
and north-west are two more. The Cadmea itself is
supplied with water brought from an unknown source to
the south by works supposed of prehistoric antiquity. It
now enters the town by an aqueduct of twenty arches of
Prankish construction. The " waters " of Thebes are
celebrated both by Pindar and by the Athenian poets, and
the site is still, as described by Dicsarchus (3d century
B.C.), "all springs," KdSvSpcit jraira. One, from which a
pasha of Negroponte (Eubcea) is said to Lave supplied his
table, is still called "the spring of the cadi." Some of
the marble basins, seats, &c., remain, and, with the frag-
ments of wall above mentioned, are the only relics of the
classic time. The most curious of later buildings is the
church of St Luke, south-east of th2 Cadmea, believed to
contain the tomb of the evangelist. From the abundance
of water the place is favourable to gari^ens, and the neigh-
bouring plain IS extremely fertile. But the population is
scanty, and the town at present of no importance.
In prehistoric times the Cadmea, with the enlarged city
of Thebes into which it developed, was a power of the first
rank, as is shown by its unrivalled legends. More parti-
cularly the mythical wars with Argos (see below) point to
a time when the " Hellenes " of North Greene were still
contending unequally against the " Achseans " of the
Peloponnesus. In the legend as given by /E.schylus these:
names are accurately preserved. At the beginning of
continuous history (6th century B.C.) Thebes had long
been possessed by immigrants from Thessaly. who knew
the previous inhabitants as Cadmeans (KaS/j-cioi).
The history of the town to the end of the 4th century is
part of the general history of the nation (see Greece). It
had an aristocratic constitution, and claimed a contested
sovereignty over the other towns of Boeotia. Down to 371
B.C. this status was not es.sentially changed. The battle
of Coronea (394) showed the increasing military strength
of the Thebans, and in 371 the genius of Epaminondas
raised them by the victory of Leuctra for a brief period to
the leading position in Hellas. Philip of Macedon spent
part of his youth as a hostage at Thebes, and probably
learnt there important lessons in war. By him and his
successor the state was destroyed. In 338 the Thebans
shared with the Athenians the defeat of Cha;ronea, and
received a Macedonian garrison ; the lion-monument
erected by them on the field of battle, and still e.xistmg
there, though in fragments, is a more impressive memorial
of their greatness than anything now visible at the town
itself. In 33.5, after the death of Philip, they revolted,
and were punished by Alexander with a fearful ven-
geance. It is said that 6000 Thebans were slain at the
capture and 30,000 taken prisoners. The population was
dispersed, and the town entirely razed (except, according
to tradition, the house of the poet Pindar) , and, though it
was soon restored by the Macedonian Cassander (315), it
never again played a leading part in history. In o6 B.C.,
havir>g sided against the Romans in the Mithradatic war,
it was plundered by Sulla, and fell into such decay that
Strabo describes it as little better than a village. In
the 2d century the traveller Pausanias, who gives a full
account of it (ix. 5 sq.), found only the citadel inhabited.
In 395 A.D., however, it bad some strength, for Alaric, on
his way to the capture of Athens, did not tliirk fit to
attack It. In the later times of the Eastern empire (10th
to 12th century) it again became wealthy and important,
being specially celebrated for the manufacture of silk and
cloth. In 1143 it w.as plundered by the Normans of
Sicily (who transferred thither the chief artisans of the
silk trade), and. after the capture of Constantinople by
230
T HE B E S
the crusaders (1204), became with Athens a fief of the
feudal empire. In 1311 it was again plundered by the
Catalan Grand Company, a body of Spanish mercenaries,
and appears to have had no return of prosperity.
Of more lasting effect than the politics of Thebes have been ;ts
legends. Bceotia, or rather the Cadnieis (Thucyd., i. 12), was a
laud of poetry from extremely ancient times, and the stones of
'^hebes are in Greek literature as important as those of Troy. The
legends of the five chief groups will be found under the names
indicated in the following division —(1) the foundation of the
Cadmea by Cadmus; (2) the foundation by Amphion.— to this
belong originally the "seven-gated " wall, the name of i-rrrdirv\oi
&h0V, and the legends of Zethus, Antiope, and Dirce ; (3) war of
the "Seven" (under Adrastus of Argos) ; war of the Epigoni. or
" descendants" of the Seven ; the story of CEdipus ; (4) legends of
Bacchus, — it Thebes as elsewhere this religion was comparatively
Ifif^, but became characteristic of the town ; (5) legends of Heracles
(oomraonly found with those of Bacchus , Thebes was reputed the
birthplace of both). From the epic poems, of which little but
titles remain, these tales descended to the Attic tragedians ; upon
them are founded the Seven against Thebes of ^schylus, the CEdipus
Turannus, (Edipus ^oloneus, and Antigone ol Soj)hocles, the
Phcenissse, Suppliccs, and Baeckse of Euripides, &c., with inuumer-
ahle plays not extant. Apart from direct imitation of these works,
the stones themselves, through Statins, Boccaccio, and others,
have exercised a great influence on modern literature. In historical
times the Thebans were not conspicuous for intellectual accom-
plishments, but their reputation is sutBciently sustained by
Pindar, perhaps the most distinctively Hellenic of all the national
poets.
The most famous moDument of ancient Tliebes was the outer
wall with its seven gates, which even as late as the 6th century
B.C. was probably the largest of artihcial Greek fortresses. The
names of the gates vary, but four are constant, — th« Prcetides,
Eiectrff, Neist-TC or Neitre, and Homoloides ; Pausanias gives the
others aa.Ogygis. Hypsist.'e, Crenaeae. There is evidence that the
g.ite Electrse wa? on the south, and near it was the tomb of the
Thebans who fell at the capture by Alexander. The gatc^ shown
to I -usanias as Neistae and Prcetides led respectively north-west
and north-east. Two of the spnnps have been identified with
some probability, — that of St Theodore with the (Edipndea, in
which CEdipus is said to have purged him.sclf from the pollution
of homicide, and the Paraporti with the dragon-guarded fountain
■of Ares (see Cadmus). Dicaarchus, referring to the town of
Cassander, gives two measurements for the circuit, equal to about
9 miles and 5^ miles, but even the smaller is impossible for the
v/;tll, and they probably refer to the territory proper of the town,
or -/n ©Tjflaf*. Beyond this the topography is wholly uncertain.
From the interest of the site in history and sull more in literature,
as the scene of so many dramas, the temptation to fix details lias
been specially strong. Conjectural plans or descriptions, differing
widely, are given by Leake, Forchhaminer, Ulrichs, Bursian, and
others (references below). All are based on the assumption that
tlie description of Pausanias and the allusions of the Attic trage-
dians may be read together and combined, and that the result
will give the plan as it existed in the 5th and 4th centuries B.C.
But to this two objections must be taken. (1) The account of
■Pausanias, even when clear in itself, is very uncertain eviilence for
anything earlier than the destruction by Alexander. It is said
indeed that thf lestored town occupied the same area, but this is
-consistent with great disturbance of tradition . and we havt further
to allow for in^iccurate tiansnnssion through 450 years of decad-
ence, and finally for the quality of Pausanias's information, given
apparently by casual guides to a traveller extremely uncritical.
(2) It may be doubted whether the tragedians had accurate know-
ledge of Theban topography, and they had certainlv no reason for
introducing it in their plays. Their plots are laid m a remote past .
and it is difficult to suppose them on the one hand so careful as to
tit their scenes to the actual Theues, and on the other hand so
careless as to presume that it had suffered no great change between
the times of CadniLs oi of CEdipus and their own days. Indeed
they did not n*ike this mistake, The plays which contain most
references to topography are the Scivu aijaitist Thei>es and the
Phaimssee. In the Seven the name of " Thebes " docs not occur at
ill (the title IS a misnonrer, probably not given by the author),
the town is called by its ancient njme "The Cadmea" {Ka^nrla
it6\isi, and the whole play assumes that the "city of Cadmus"
was much smaller than 'he Thebes contemporary witli vEschylus
can have been In the /'htrntssie the circuit of the walls is said to
be so small that a person within must necessarily know all that
had taken place in a general attack (v 1356) None of the con-
je':lur;il plans would appio.vLimately satisfy this, nor can it have
tuen tru"* for 'ho time of Eunjudcs. After this, it is not surpiisiiig
to find thai the attempt to use the plays as evidence is involved in
unanswered difficu'ties. a few of wluch are given below
In itself, however, and as relati*^ to the ruins of the restored
town merely, the description of Pausanias is curious and interesting.
The principal buildings were at that timu ^2d century) the temple
of Apollo Unienius, which must have stood somewhere about the
present church ot St Luke, the theatre, near the gate Pra-tides,
the Heracleum, with a gymnasium and race-course, and the
temples of Artemis Euclt-ia, of Aminon, and of Fortune (Tvxv)-
Besides these Pausanias was shown all tlie g'atcs, all the legendary
situs, tho house of Pindar (north-west beyond the Dirce), statuea,
kc, dedicated by lum, several statues of immense antifjuity, others
attributed to the greatest artists, and in fact much more than it is
easy to believe.
1. Apollo Is?ncnius and Apollo Spodius. — Sophocles {(E. T., 21)
mentions, ^s one of the Theban s.mctuanes, " the oracular ashes of
Ismenus," 'latirjvoC fiaurfia air65oi. Pausanias, who calls the river
not Ismenus but Ismenius. descnbes (1) a temple of Ismenius ot
Apollo Ismenius (ix. It), 2), and ("2) an altar of Apollo Spodius,
made of ashes and used in a peculiar manner as an oracle (ix. 11, 7).
We should suppose from Sophocles that both observations related
to the same sanctuary; and Sophocles clearly identified the two.
But in Pausanias they are in dillerent places and have no connexion
at all. Either therefore the topography and ritual of the one period
differed from those of the other, or, which is equally probable, the
poet used Theban names without regard to accuracy.
*2. The FouiUain'of Ares. — Euripides, in the Supplices (v. 650
sq.}, describes an army advancing on Thebes from tne south as
having its right at the Ismenian hill, its left at the fountain of
Ares, and "the chariots below the monument of Amphion."
Pausanias also places the Ismenun hill on the right of the southero
gate. But the fountain of Arej he places on the same side, a de-
scription quite inconsistent with this aud other allusions. Ulrichs,
while insisting on the agieemcnt about the hill, merely observes
oa»tiiis that Pausanias is unintelli'^ible. Of a still greater ditEculty
be says nothing. The tomb of Amphion is placed by iEschylus
north of the town, and there .■^'- in that direcnon was shown
to Pausanias. The topographer^ accordingly suppose that the
"chariots " of Euripides uere •■■ *he plain to the north. But there
is no suggestion in the passage that any part of the advancing army
was separated from the rest, and the observer expressly says that
he was at the place when', tlie chariot : /ouyht and had a particularly
good mew of this part of the battle (v. 684). Now he stood on the
gate Electr;e. i.e., as far as possible from the tomb of Amphion, aa
placed by ^schylus and Pausanias. It ig impo.ssihle to make a
consistent aceount of this^ and u seems jtlain that Euripides took
up the name " tomb of Amphion " at D.:zard, and ignored or forgot
that the real tomb could not be brought into his picture.
3. The Altar of {Athena) Onca. — Tins was sho^n to Pausaniaa
{ix. 12, 1), who was told that it marked the place where the lying
down of a cow indicated t. Cadmus the site destined for his city
(fSct ivravda oiKiiaat)- "It is said." he continues, '' that in the
acropolis there was formerly the house of Cadmus (KaS^ioo otVi'a). "
No other indication is given as to the place of the altar, and the
natural inference is that it was shown in the Cadmea. But
/Eschylus (5c/3/cm, 501) places it outside the walls. Accordingly
It IS suggested that the oracular s.gn only indicated the neighbour-
hood of the destined site. {._y that the altar shown to Pausanns
was near that of Apollo Spodius. which is mentioned last before it,
and may have been outside Mie wall. But thisjuxtaposilion proves
nothing about the place of Onca, for Pausanias himself shows that
mention of Onca here is suggested by a reference to "oxen" io
connexion with the altar of Spodius. which brought to his mind
the "cow " *^f the other legend.
4- The Tomb of Amphion and Zethus. — Apart fiom the con-
fusion of Euripides already noticed, there is a difficulty about the
mentiouof this monument in P«iisaiiiasaiid .^schylus Pnusaniaa,
after describing several buildings near the gate Pra-tides, conclud-
ing with some in the market place, mentions next (without further
indication of place) the tonib of Amphion and Zethus, aud con'
tinues thus — "the way from Thebes to Chalcis (north-east) is by
tins gale Prcetides, Lc." iEschylus places the tomb of Amphion
outside the wall opposite the north gale (Septcm, 527), and the
Prcetides elsewhere. UIn,hs couciudes that Pausanias "evi-
dently" Weill out by the north gate to view the monument and
then returned to the Prcetides. Of course this is possible, but it is
useless to draw e.\act luferences from documents which require
such an liypothesis. It is equally probable that Pausanias identified
the tomb with a monument called the Ampheion, which seems
{Ulnchs. p. 17) to have been somewhere near the market-place.
Indeed, there is no proof that they w<.rc not identical, for theonly
evidence that the tomb was outside the walUand therefore different
from the Ampheion) is that of ^schylus and Euripides, whose
imaginary cities were not much larger than the Cadraean hill, and
must have excluded the Ampheion itscli
On ihe liisioiy, nee rclerenrcs iimlcr Grkrcf; on the lopography and legends,
Uliichs, lifturn und f'ortctnmijen in Gnechenland, ii. 1 sfl.. Leake, Traf€U in
t^oillifrn Orrece. II xiv.; [tuiainn. Oeographif von Grifr/ien/and, 1. 226117.; <"*'*
the •■.Sfi^fi ugaintt '^^ftw." ed. l)y A W. Verrall, " Introfluctlon." (A. W. V.)
T H E — T H E
231
THECLA, St. virgin, is commemorated by the Latin
Church on September 23. The Bremary relates that
she was boro of illustrious parentage at [conium, and
came under the personal teaching of the apostle Paul.
In her eighteenth year, having broken her engagement
with Thamyris, ta whom she had been betroth&d, she
was accused by her relations of being a Christian, and
sentenced to be bnrned. Armed with the sign of the
cross, she threw herself upon the pyre, but, the flames
having been extinguished by a sudden, rain, she came to
Antioch. where she was exposed to the wild beasts, then
fastened to bulls that she might be torn asunder, then
thrown into a pit full of serpents, but from all these perils
the was delivered by the grace of Christ. Her ardent
faith and her holy life were the means of converting
many Returning once more to her native place, she
withdrew into a mountain solitude, and became distin-
guished by many virtues- and miracles, dying at the age
of ninety. She was buried at Seleucia,
The substance of the foregoing narratire, with many other
curious iDcideDts, occurs in the very aucient apocryphal book
entitled the wtfMoi of Paul and Thecia (Acta Pauli a Thedte).
Tertullian tells as that this work was written by a presbyter in
Asia, *'out of love to Paul,'* but that his conduct was not ap-
proved, and led to his deposition. What caused special offence
was its recognition of the right of women to preach and baptize.
There is no doubt that the present diifers very considerably from
the original form of the AcUi^ but even now its Gnostic origin is
betrayed in several features which it still retains— for example,
the rejection of marriage For the text, see the Ada Apost. Apocr.
of Tischendorf, who in the Prolegomena gives a large body of
evidence for its great antiquity A translation is given in the
AnU-Xicene Christian Library.
THEFT is, m modern legal systems, universally treated
as a crime, but the conception of theft as a crime is not
one belonging to the earliest stage of law To its latest
period Roman law regarded theft (furtum) as a delict
prima facie pursued by a civil remedy, — the actw furti
for a penalty, the mndicatio or condictio for the stolen
property itself or its value. In later times, no doubt, a
criminal remedy to meet the graver crimes gradually grew
up by the side of the civil, and in the time of Justinian the
criminal remedy, where it existed, took precedence of the
civil (Cod., iii. 8, 4). But to the last criminal proceedings
could only be taken in serious cases, e.g., against stealers
of cattle (afngei) or the clothes of bathers (balnearii). The
punishment was death, banishment, or labour in the mines
or on public works. In the main the Roman law of theft
coincides with the English law. The definition as given
in the Institutes (iv. 1, 1) is "fnrtum est contrectatio rei
fraudulosa, vel ipsius rei, vel etiam ejusnsuspossessionisve,"
to which the Digest (ilvii 2, I, 3) adds " lucri faciendi
gratia." The earliest English definition, that of Bracton
(1506), runs thus' "furtum est secundum leges contrec-
tatio rei alienae fraudulenta com animo fnrandi invito illo
domino cujus res ilia fuerit." Bracton omits the " lucri
faciendi gratia " of the Roman definition, because in English
law the motive is immaterial,* and the "usus ejus posses-
sionisve," because the definition includes an intent to de-
prive the owner of his property permanently. The " ammo
furandi " and "invito domino" of Bracton's definition
are expansions for the sake of greater clearness. They
seem to have been implied in Roman law. Furtum is on
the whole a more comprehensive tern than theft.- This
difference no doubt arises from the tendency to extend the
bounds of delict and to limit the bounds of a Crime.
Thus it was furtum (but it would not be theft at English
common law) to use a deposit of pledge contrary to the
■wishes of the owner, to retain goods found, or to steal a
human being, such as a slave or filius familias (a special
' Thus destruction of a letter by a servant, with a view of enppress-
ing inquiries mio her character, makes the servant guilty of larceny m
Eogli^ law
form oi furtum called plagium). The latter would be in
English law an abduction under certain circumstances, but
not a theft. On the other hand, one of two married
persons could not commit furtum as against the other,
but theft may be so committed in England since recent
legislation. As & furtum was merely a delict, the obligatio
ex delicto could be extinguished by agreement between
the parties ; i' will be seen that this cannot be done in
England. In another direction English law is more con-
siderate of the rights of third parties than was Romaa
As will appear hereafter, the thief can give a good title to
stolen goods ; in Roman law he could not do so, except in
the single case of a Aereditas acquired by usucapio The
development of the law of furtum at Rome is historically
interesting, for even in its latest period is found a relic of
one of the most primitive theories of law adopted by
courts of justice " They took as their guide the measure
of vengeance likely to be exacted by an aggrieved person
under the circumstances of the case" (Maine, Arictenc
Law, ch. X.). This explains the reason of the division of
furtum into mamfestum and nee mantfestum. The mani-
fest thief was one taken red-handed, — "taken with the
manner," in the language of old English law The Twelve
Tables denounced the punishment of death against the
manifest thief, for that would be the penalty demanded
by the indignant owner in whose place the judge stood.
The severity of this penalty was afterwards mitigated by
the prstor, who substituted for it the payment of quad-
ruple the value of the thing stolen. The same penalty
was also given by tb'e praetor in case of theft from a fire
or a wreck, or of prevention of search. No doubt the
object of this large penalty was to induce injured persons
to refrain from taking the law into their own hands. The
Twelve Tables mulcted the non-manifest thief in double
the value of the thing stolen. The actions for penalties
were in addition to the action for the stolen goods them-
selves or their value. The quadruple and double penalties
still remain in the legislation of Justinian. The search
for stolen goods, as it existed in the time of Gaius, was a
survival of a period when the injured person was, as in the
case of summons (in jus vocatio), his own executive officer
Such a search, by the Twelve Tables, might be conducted
in the house of the supposed thief by the owner in person,
naked except for a cincture, and carrying a platter in his
hand, safeguards apparently against a violation of decency
and against any possibility of his making a false charge by
depositing some of his own property on his neighbour's
premises This mode of search became obsolete before the
time of Justinian. Robbery (borta m rapta) was violence
added to furtum By the actio tn bonorum raptorum
quadruple the value could be recovered if the action were
brought within a year, only the value if brought after
the expiration of a year The quadruple value, it is to b©
noted, included the stolen thing itself, so that the penalty
was in effect only a triple one. It was inclusive, and not
cumulative, as in furtum.
In England theft appears to have been very early
regarded by legislators as a matter calling for special
attention. Tht- pre-Conquest compilations of laws are
full of provisions on the subject. It is noticeable that the
earlier ones appear to regard theft as a delict which may be
compounded for by payment. Considerable distinctions
of person are made, both in regard to the owner and the
thief. Thus, by the laws of Ethelbert, if a freeman stole
from the king he was to restore ninefold, if from a freeman
or from a dwelling threefold. If a theow stole, he had
only to make a twofold reparation. Irt the laws of Alfred
ordinary theft was still only civil, but he who stole in a
church was punished by the loss of h'<» hand. The laws
of Ina namod as 'he penalty death or redemption accord-
2S2
THEFT
inc to the wergild of the thief. By the same laws the
thief might be tlaia if he fltd or resisted. Gradually the
severity of the punishment increased. By the laws of
Athelstan death in a verj' cruel form was inflicted. At a
later'date the Leges Henrici Pnmi placed a thief in the
king's mercy, and his lands were forfeited. Putting out
the eyes and other kinds of mutilation were sometimes the
punishment. The principle of severity continued dowTi to
the present century, and until 18L'7 theft of certain kinds
remained capital. Both before and after the Conquest
local jurisdiction over thieves was a common franchise of
lords of manors, attended with some of the advantages
of modern summary jurisdiction. It might be e.xercised
either over thieves who committed a theft or were appre-
hended within the lordship (infanr/thef), or over those
inhabitants of the lordship who were apprehended else-
where {oulfanr/lhcf). Either or both franchises might be
enjoyecl by grant or prescription. As lately as 1 Pli.
and M. c. 15 infangthef and outfangthef were confirmed
to the lords marchers of Wales. An analogous franchise
was ikeam, or the light of caUingupon the holder of stolen
goods to vouch to warranty, i.e., to name from whom he
received th;m. In the old law of theft there were to be
found two interesting survivals of the primitive legal
notions which were found in Roman law. Up to a com-
paratively recent date a distinction analogous to that
between furtuni manifestum and 7itc manifeslum was of
importance in English criminal practice. The thief
"taken with the manner" was by the Statute of West-
minster the First not to be admitted to bail (see Letters of
Junius, Ixviii.). In modern procedure the probable guilt
or innocence of the accused is not so much to be considered
in a question of bail as the probability of his appearance
at the trial. The other matter worthy of notice is the
old pursuit (^secta) by hue and cry. In the pre-Conquest
codes the owner was generally allowed to take the law into
his own hand, as in early Roman law, and get back his
goods by force if he could, no doubt with the assistance
of his neighbours where possible. From this arose the
later development of the hue and cry, as the recognized
means of pursuing a thief. The Statutes of Westminster
the First and of De officio coronaloris enacted that all men
.should be ready to jiursue and arrest felons, and ton years
later the Statute of Winchester (128.5) enforced upon all
the duty of keeping arms for the purpose of following the
hue and cry.. It al=o made the liundred liable for thefts
with vinlcncfi committed in it, b.& adoption no doubt in
feudal law of the old pre-Conquest liability of the frith-
liorg. As justice became more settled, the hue and cry
was regulated more and more by law, and lost much of its
old natural simplicity. This led to its gradually becom-
ing obsolete, though the Statutes of Westminster the First
and Dc offici'i toroniitoris are still nominally law as far as
they relate to the hue and cry. The Statute of Winchester
as to the liability of the hundred was repealed in 1827.
The term theft in modern English law is sometimes
used as a synonym of larceny, sometimes in a more com-
prehensive sense. In the Utter sense it is used by Mr
Justice Stephen, who defines it as " the act of dealing from
any motive whatever, unlawfully and without claim of
right, with anything capable of being stolen, in any of the
ways in which theft can be committed" (for which see
§ 21)0-300), " with the intention of permanently converting
that thing to the use of any person other than the general
or special owner thereof" {Digest of the Criminal Law,
§ 290). In thi» broader sense the term applies to all cases
of depriving another of his property, whether by removing
or withholdiug it. It thus includes larceny, robbery,
cheating, embezzlement, and breach of trust. Embezzle-
cneui is a statutory crime created as a separate form of
offence in the last century (see vol. viii. p. 159). The
difference between larceny and embezzlement turns mainly
on the fact of the 'naster's being in actual or constructive
possession of the stolen property (see Possession). Fraud-
ulent breach of trust was not made a specific offence until
1 85 7 (see Trust).
Larceny (a corniption of latracinium), or theft proper, was felony
at commou law. Tlie common law ol larceny has Ijeen affected by
numerous statutes, the main object of legislation beiiig to bring
wiiliin tlic law of larceny offences which were not larcenies at
common law, either because they were thefts of things of which
there couM be no larceny at commeo law, e.g.. beasts /era naturd,
title UeeJs, or choses in action, or because the common law regarded
ihem merely as delicts for whith the remedy was by civil action,
c tj., fraudulent breaches of trust. The caiiicst Act in the statutes
of the re.nlm dealing with larceny appeals to be the Carta Forests
of 1225, by whieh hnc or imprisonment was inflicted for stealing
the king's deer. The next Act ap|ieare to Ijc tlie Statute of West-
minster the First (1270), dealing again with stealing deer. Frorix
this It seems as though the beginning of legislation on the subject
was for the purpose of protecting the chases and i)arks of the king
and the nobility. An immense mass of the old Acts will be found
nanieil in the repealing Act of 1827, 7 and 8 Geo. IV. c. 27. An
Act of the same date, 7 and 8 Geo. IV. c. 29, removed the old dis-
tinction between grand and petit larceny.^ The former was theft
of goods above the value of twelve pence, in the house of the
owner, not from the pereon, or by night, and was a capital crime.
It was petit larceny where the value was twelve pence or under,
the punishment being imprisonment or whipping. The gradual
depreciation in the value of money afforded good ground for
Sir Henry Spelman's sarcasm that, while everything else became
dearer, the life of man became continually cheaper. The distinc-
tion between grand and petit larceny first appears in statute law in
the Statute of Westminster the First, c 15, but it was not created
for the first time by that statute. It is found in some of the pre-
Conquest codes, as that of Athelstan, and it is recogniied in the
Leges Henrici Primi. A distinction between simple and compound
larceny is still found in the books. The latter is larceny accom-
panied by circumstances of aggravation, as that it is in a dwelling-
house 'or from the person. The law of larceny is now contained
chiefly in the Larceny Act, 1861, 24 and 25 Vict. c. 96 (which
extends to England and Ireland), a comprehensive enactment
including larceny, embezzlement, fraud by bailees, agents, bankers,
factors, and trustees, sacrilege, burglary, housebreaking, robbery,
obtaining money by threats or by false pretences, and receiving
stolen goods, and prescribing procedure, both civil and criminal.
There are still, however, some earlier ^cts in force dealing with
special cases of larceny, such as 33 Hen. VIII. c. 12, as to stealing
the goods of the king, and the Game, Post-Office, and Merchant
Shipping Acts. Later Acts provide for laiceily by a psutntr of
partnership property (31 and 32 Vict c, 116), and by a'husbanJ
or wife of the property of the other (45 and 46 Vict, c 75). Pro-
ceedings against persons subject to naval or military law depend
upon 3ie Naval Discipline Act, 1866, and the Arniy Act, 1881.
There are several Acts, both before and after 1861, directing
how the property is to be laid in indictments for stealing the goods
of counties, friendly societies, trades unions, ic The principal con-
ditions which must exist in order to constitute larceny are these; —
(1) there must be an actu.ol tiking into the possession of the thief,
though the smallest removed is sulhcient; (2) there must be aii
intent to deprive the owner of his iirojierty for an indefinite period,
and to assume the entire dominion over it, an intent often descrfbed
in Bracton's words as animus fiirayidi ; (3) this intent must exist
at the time of tiking; (4) the thing taken must be one capable of
larceny cither at commou law or hy statute. One f r two cases
falling under the law of larceny arc of special interest It was
iield more than once that a ser\ant taking com for the purpose of
feeding his master's horses, but without any iniention of applying
it for his own iKinefit, was guilty of larceny. To remedy this hard-
sliip, 26 and 27 Vict. c. 103 was passed to declare such an act aot
to be felony. The case of ajipropriation of goods which have been
found has led to some difficulty. It now seems to be the law that
in order to constitute a larceny of lost goods fliere must be a
felonious intent at the time of finding,Jhat is, an fntent to deprive
the owner of them, coupled with reasonable means at tbs same
time of knowingthe owner. The mere retention of the goods when
the owner lias become known to the finder does not make the
retention criminal. Larceny of money may be committed when
the money is paid by mistake, rf the prisoner took it animo/uratidi
In two recent cases the question was argued before a very full Court
for Clown Cases Kescrved, and in each case there was a striking
difference of opinion. In Reg. v. Middleton, Lau- Mcp., 2 Crown
' This provision was most unnecessarily repeated in the Larc«i:>
Act of 1861
THEFT
l-ases Reserrea 38 tho pnsantr, a depositor m a post-office savings
bank, reoeiv-ej by tho mistake of the clerk a larger sum than l?e
«-a3 enmled to. The jurj- found that he had th«?a»im«/um,!rfi
at the time of taking the money, and that he-k-new it to be tho
money of the postmaster-general. The majority of the court held
It to be h'rceny In a case in 1885 (Reg. v. Ashwell, Law ncp., 16
Queen s Bench Division, 190), "here the prosecutor gave the prisoner
,1„'H»r?h?rh^ f i"". ''r '" ''^* ',*>*'"''- ""^ t*"' prisoner look it
iinder that belief, but afterwards discovered its value an.l retained
It, the court was equally divided as to whether the prisoner was
guilty of larceny at common law, but held that he was not cuiltv
j.f larceny as a bailee. The procedure in prosecutions for larceny
has been considerably affected by recent legislation. The iucon-
vMuences of the common-law rules of interpretation of indictments
^d to certain amendments of tho law, now contained in the Larceny-
Act, for the purpose of avoiding the frecjnent failures of justice
owing to the stnetncss with which indictments were construed
n,,vl„i;'"i^"'i° '"'?P•"'y^"'P'^™° person within six months
uZT,, ''"""S^'' '" ""<= 'ndictment .On an indictment for
larceny the prisoner may be found guilty of embezzlement, and
ffJV, ' tl><! prisoner be indicted for obtaining goods by
false pretences, and the offence turn out to bo larceny! ho is not
entitled to he acmiitted of the misdemeanour. 'A count for reco^v.
ing may be joined with tho count for stealing. In many cases it i«
unnecessar)- to allege or prove ownership of thO property thCsub^
lect of the md.ctinent TheActalso contains numerous provisions
?fi tft™'^ ^"'^ "'.' apprehension of olTondcrs. In another diiec
>,^^ . P^™5".0f fOWl-'S of StJM.MART JURISDICTIO.V (7.,;.) have
teen extended m tho case of charges of larceny, embezzlement,
and receiving stolen goods, against children and young persons and
asjunst adults pleading guilty or waiving their%igirt to tii.al bj
jury The ma.x;imum punishment for larceny is fourteen years'
jcnal servitude, but this can^nly be inflicted in certain exceptional
cafes, such as horse or cattle stealing and larceny by a servant or
a person in the ser^•ice of the crown or the police.' The ex ren"
punishment for simple larceny after a previous conviction for felony
;p2?iT ^"f '""*"'*' Whipping may be part of the sen-
teace on boys under sixteen. -
H'h "fw-' JV" ■™^' ^"0"P3°i,ed by violence or threatened yiolenccJ
ttJiether obtaining money by threats to accuse of crime was robbery
au common law was open to some doiibt. It is now a specific
oftnce under the Larceny Act. punishable 'uy penal servitude for
by 26 and'2T vl-rT « "''''' ^^ '^"' of_the sentence for robber,'
■ini^^^""? f' ^'1"'" * <:o"'"<""l'i"' orTsicMitory'otfence. An
indictment for cheating at common law is now of coint>arativclv
rrLln'S?'-'".^ -V Tl'fi.stahitorj- crime of obtaining mone'y by feb^
pretenets IS he for™ in wTiich the offence generally presents itself
Like embezzlement, this- offence dates as a statu?oy crime from
the last century. It now depends upon the Larceny/ c" 1 false
pretences defined by Mr Justice Stephen as "a falsereprfsenu?
tionmade either by words, by writing, or by conduct thit some
fact or acts existed- {Digest of 0^ CrimiJl La,T%33o] 'rZ
principal poinu to notice are that the false pretence must be of an
L"?nv°f ^"" ''/•' '' J^ ^'^'^ "»' to be a fafse pretence to promise
kctHv^lf,"-'''/',' ^lY^Vh ^""^ "'^' P'°P^«y ■""" have "en
actually obtained by the false pretence. The broad distincticn
i-nuirto narf:;|?h h""^ larceny"^^, that in the fo^er the owne"
22 a d 23 vfnr T ,7 ' Property. in the latter he does not. By
22 and 23 Vict, e. 17, no indictment for obtaining money by false
ZZf'r W^' r''"'"^ »■• f"""'' by the grand jury unles
the defendant has been committed for trial or the indictment i
Jiuthorized in one of the ways mentioned in the Act The maximum
punishment for the common-law offence is fine or mprisonmen"
at distretion, for the statutory five years" penal servitiuir
Stolen Goods —The owner of the goods stolen has an action
a.>a.nst the thief for the goods or their value. How "ar he°"
n?Il ,"' S"'"'* '"^ ""' ""'" to 'he exclusion of crimen. ]
If.t^r,'".'^r.' "°' '"'? very clear upon the authorities. C
•of the latest statemejUs of the law wxs that of Mr Justice "iVatk^n
a\ isTharth rern",r^''' "'^' "'^ true principle of the common
»aw is that there is neither a merger of the civil right, nor is it a
strict condition precclenfcto^uch'right that there sha have been
a prosecution of the felon, but thatlhere is a duty m posed uZ
tho injured person not to resort to the prosecution of his pr"vate
suit to the neglect and-exclusion of the vindication of the ™bl c
law .in myapinion this view is tho correct one" (Midland nsur-
DeaHnrrth-*^- ?"""'• '^T^'"'- « <^"^™'^ f''"* Division 568 .
»fWf ,h 1 . r Spods by persons other than the thief may
affect the nghu of ^such persons either criminally or civilly. Tvvo
Varieties of crime irise from such ilcalings. (1) Receiv n" stolln
fa'l^ls hnh"?! '''™ '" \'7 ^r, ''°'^"' -^ •■■-le-oanouTat c°ommo;
tew 13 by the Larceny Act a felony punishable by penal servitude
niiXu " r^" "'Y'" "!' '^'" ="'™"'^ «" felony: a misdem'anou
punishable by ,,enal servitude for seven years where the theft is a
mBdemeauour. as in obtaining goods by false pretences Recent
po^ession of stolen, orooertv^ay, according^o circnmsfances!
233
a rTcivor PI-'^'="H"'^''."'at the prisoner h a thief or that he id
cinn'jrin th?i P''v"'"'r° of.Crime Act. 1871, m.nde important
changes in the law of evidence in charges of receiving It allows
t^AXTLf'^^f^!! "'^T" '° '^° g'™» i" thf course of h^
accused Lnd ff f n ""''" =*"''=".P'-o|"'>ty in the possession of the
accused, and of a previous convictiou for any offence involvina
rtakin^tkTof^- '',' Compounding theftf or tKeftbote li.l
^- . lot nrlccntin ° 1^^°°'^1 "'■ ''""'"'° ^°"'P<^ns"ion on condition
01 not prosecuting, is a misdemeanour at common law It need not
necessarily be committed by the owner of the goods. Under ?he
Laceuy Act ,t is a elony punishable by seven^cars-penal sen,i°
tude to corruptly take money or reward for helpi"- to recover
triaf°°BVthrs"am"/7/l' "'^f ''''""''' '» br^ng-the^oZd
to tnal. By the same Act, to advert se or print or nublidi inv
advertisement offering a reward for the retuni'^f stol n^goods I7d
Z"rJ'irZ'^Trif"" "^^t "" 'P'ostionswiU bea^sked:ic
bv^l ^.d i5^" ''." ^'f}"^" " ^T 'y "' -^^O- TMs penalty nus
„7-.^;. f i , "• "■ ^^' ^^ f".'='^ f"'' "i'l'i" six moiths. and the
ttl] y «''.';.f.«°r"cy-gencral is necess,ary. Various Acts provido
for the liabilities of pawnbrokers, publicans, murine-storo dealers
and others into whoso possession stolen goods come. Search fol
stolen goods can only bo undertaken by a police officer under the
protection of a search warrant. The law .^s to stolen goods, as fat
as It affects the civil rights and liabilities of the owner and th rd
parties, is shortly as lollows. As a general rule a purehaser takes
goods subject to any infirmities of title. The property in money
b»"k-notes, and negotiable instruments passes by delivery, and a
sou taking any of these bona Jiclc and for value is entitled to
it;L^^ 1"%^"'" » f"™^'' »»■"" from whom it may have been
stolen. In the case 01 other goods, a bo,ia fide purchaser of stolen
goods in market overt (see Sale) obtains a good title (except a"
agunst the crown) provided that the thief hal not been conv ted
H,« .T^Tr'"" °'^^"'f ^\}'^ "^" P™P"'y ^^™^t» in the owner, and
he court before which the thief was convicted may order restitu-
tion except m the cases specially mentioned in the Larceny Act
I.e., the to«rt/f?c discharge or transfer of a security for value with,
wi <-"°ind '"^"^° f>audulent dealing by a trustee, banker, &c
V t"- goods .and documents of title to goods entrusted to him
M :r conviction of the thief the goods mSst be recomed f om the
son Ml whoso hands they are at the time of -the conviction, for
any sales .and resa cs if the first sale was in market overt, are good
until conviction of the thief. If the goods were obtained by fal.e
pretences and not by areeny, the qSestion then is whether tt-
popertym the goods has passed or not, and^he answer to t
question depends upon tlie nature of the false pretences emp?ov d
•en or t!;\ '' f«»'"fPOf session of goods with the intentionVtl,;
•e,,I ;„ , °',''°"' the property and the possession, the property
^.1 ™ \ , '""'^?- """'the vendor has done some act to'^tlis^
all rm the transaction. But if there was never any such "nten-
on,- f, for instance, the vendor delivers tlie goods to A B under
transferee tf,^' '' ^^ ^■'~'^'' P^P^'^ ^°'', "»' vest in th
^0 purchase" 1 °™"" ™"^ '"'°^" ^he goods even from a bo,uz
Scollcind.-Thera is a vast nuantity of Acts of the Scottish parlia-
makl ti;^f','^= T'l'' ""^'- ^\ S"""' P°"^y °f the Acts was to
rnake, thefts what were not thefts at common law, c.ff., stealing
riv L ,1= • ^r"'^- "',''"-'■• "?'' to ^-^t^d the remedies, e.g., bf
gu ing the justiciar authority throughout the kingdom, by maki„»
he master m the case of theft by the servant liable to rive h?
\lL'vJ^rV"''''%°' ^r =';',°"''"S the nso of firearms^g. ins?
thieves. The general result of legislation in England and Scotland
n^. wLi° ^^^'.-J-'^te the law of theft in botlT kingdoms. As a
rule, what would be theft in one would be theft in the other"
There can be theft of children in Scots as in Roman law under
the name olplagUM. The crime of stouthrief is robbery accom'
paniod by exceptionar violence. The English leceivin" stoW
BTth?r.'' f'^'^'" "S .noney under false pretences are rep'reind
by the reset and fraud of Scou law. Theftbote or ndcmptiofuTti
apivears in legislation as early as the assizes of King Willfam, c 2'
on the oa,b' o? h*"°' '^^^'"''^ '" '^' "'^''^ «' »»ter if convicted
^.tw.l '•'■"' *""csses,-to h-> immediately hanged if the
able by 1436, c. 1, 1515, e. 2, and appears still to be a crime
B ackmailing, under that name, was forbidden by 156?! T^7
There is no consolidation Act for Scotland like the Larceny Act
for England and Ireland, but various Acts are in force dealing with
pec he offences or with procedure. Thus 7 Anne c. a! § 7 Ss
G 0 'iw 1'2'V"' TSf trea.son, as it had prel misly beer
4 Ceo II. c 32 deals with theft of lead, &c., fixed to houses: 2
Geo I . c 34 with the admissibility of k„ a«ompli e « w tnl
n a charge of cattle stealing, 51 Geo. III. C..4I v^th theftll
nr32 Viet^c°95"'r,rr*l°\''^' "'^''"S «<> ProTlre is 3°
x.xirr. — 30
234
T H E — T H E
[Tevious conviction for robbery rs aj?gravation of theft. Stolen
poods are always token subject to tho inherent vitiwii reale of their
acquisition, and the true owner may recover them from any one in
whose possession they are. The protection given by market overt
is unknoivn in Scotlnnd. Sco Macdonald, Criminal Law, p. 18.
Uniled SUUes.-rT^^ law defends almost entirely upon State
legislation, and is In general accordance with that. of Ecgland,
The only Acta of Congress bearing on the subject deal with theft
in the army and navy, and with theft and receiving on the high
seas or in any place under the exclusive jurisdiction of tho United
States. The doctrine of market overt is not acknowledged by »ny
State. fl. W+.)
THEISM
Meanings rPHE term' theism has three Bignifications.
In its
of the J_ widest acceptation its object is the Divine, whether
"""^ regarded as personal or impersonal, as one being or as
(u a number of. beings. In this sense theism is coexten-
geneiio sive with religion and worship, includes all forms of
•ense. polytheism and of pantheism, as well as all varieties of
monotheism, and so may be said to denote the genus of
which polytheism, pantheism, and monotheism are species.
The conception of the Divine, in its- utmost abstractnesa
and gen3rality, is, however, so vague that it may reason-
ably be doubted if the forms of theism, thus understood,
:;aa be distributed into strictly logical and natural species,
with definitions at once perfectly distinct in themselves
and exactly accordant with phenomena. It may seem
as if polytheism and monotheism must, by arithmetical
necessity, be exclusive of each other and exhaustive of
theism ; but this is not so. ■ Pantheism may clearly
partake of the nature of both, and has been sometimes
extravagantly polytheistic, sometimes only doubtfully dis-
tinguishable from fully developed monotheism. Probably
few, if any, polytheistic religions are purely polytheistic,
or, in other words, do not imply in some mode and
measure the unity as well as the plurality of the Divine.
Christian monotheism - answers to a formal definition of
monotheism only inasmuch as it holds to the unity of the
Godhead, but contravenes it inasmuch as it holds that in
the one Godhead there are three Divine persons, each
God.
7'., The complete negation of theism In its generie sense is
iiee» J vea.^ atheism — the denial of the existence or of the knowability
of the Divine. It is only in modern times that the word
atheism has acquired this meaning, only in recent times
that it has come to be exclusively employed with this
meaning. The Greeks meant by it simply disbelief in
the Greek gods.' The early Christians were called atheists
because they refused to acknowledge the pagan deities.
Protestants have been charged by Roman Catholics and
Roman Catholics by Protestants with atheism. Through-
out even the 18th century the word was used in an
extremdy loose manner, and often affixed to systems by
which the existence and agency of God were unequivocally
recognized. Atheism, in the sense now generally admitted
to be alone appropriate, may be of three species, — namely,
deni:il of the existence of the Divine, denial that the
Divine has been shown to exist, and denial that it can be
known that the Divine exists. The first species has been
called dogmatic atheism, the second critical atheism ; and
the third has been designated, and may conveniently be de-
signated, religious agnosticism. Agnosticism per se should
not be identified with atheism or with any of its forms.
The term antitheism has been used by some theologians,
e.g., Chahners and Foster, as equivalent to dogmatic
atheism ; but it may with much more practical advantage
be employed to denote all systems of belief opposed to
theism, cither in the generic sense already indicated, or
in the specific sense of monotheism. Understood in this
latter mode, it is much ipore comprehensive than the term
atheism. Polytheism and paDthei^fiin are alike antitheietic
theories, although on different groonds ; while only those
theories which deny that there is evidence for belief even
in tho existence of any god, any divine being, are atheistic
It ia somewhat remarkable that the term theism hy itself Thete
never occurs in its etymological and generic sense, never °"^''""'
means as a separate word what it means in the compounds yjj'^j ^
atheism, polytheism, pantheism, and monotheism, Ordin- mon„
arily it is identified with monotheism, and consequently thei«B»._
opposed to polytheism and to pantheism, as well as to
atheism. Whereas polytheism acknowledges a plurality
of finite gods, theism as monotheism acknowledges only
one absolute infinite God. Whereas pantheism regards
all finite things as merely aspects, modifications, or parts
of one eternal self -existent being — all material objects and
all particular minds as necessarily derived' from a single
infinite substance, — aad thus combines, in its conception
of the Divine, monism and determinism, theism as mono-
theism, while accepting monism, rejects determinism, and
attributes to the Divine all that is essentially implied in
free personal existence and agency. Pantheism is, how-
ever, wonder/uUy protean, and rarely conforms to its
ideal ; hence the systems called pantheistic are seldom
purely pantheistic, and are often more monotheistic than
pantheistic.
Sometimes the term theism is employed in a still mureThdMi
special sense, namely, to denote one of two kinds of -J"''
monotheism, the other kind being deism. Although deus ^"^
and iheos are equivalent, deism has come to be dis-
tinguished from theism. The former word first appeared
in the 16th' century, when it was used to designate
antitrinitarian opinions. In the 17th century it came to
be applied to tho view that the light of nature is the only
light in which man can know God, ho special revelation
having been given to the liuman race. Dr Samuel Clarke,
in the Eoylo Lectures preached in 1705, distributed
deists into four classes.. The first class " pretend to believc
the existence of an eternal, infinite, independent, intelli-
gent being, and, to avoid the name of Epicurean atheists,
teach also that this supremo being made the world ; though
at the same time they agree with the Epicureans in this,
that they fancy God does not at all concern Himself in
the government of tho world, nor has any regard to, or
care of, what is dono therein." Tho second class acknow-
ledge not only that God made all things, but that He
sustains and governs them, yet deny that He has any
regard in His government to moral distinctions, these
being merely tho products of human will and law. The
third class believe in the being, natural attributes, pro-
vidence, and to some extent in the moral attributes and
government of God, but deny the immortality of the
soul and a future state of rewards and punishments.. The
fourth class acknowledge the being, natural and. moral
perfections, and providence of God, as also the immor-
talit.) of the soul and a future state of rewards and
punishments, yet profess to believe only what is' discov^-
able by the light of nature, without believing any divine
revelation (Clarke, On the Attributes, pp. 110-153, ed.'
1823). This- division is not an exact classification, nor
does it rest on any precise definition of deism, but it, with
substantial accuracy, discriminates and grades the varieties
of English deism. Clarke did not contrast deism with
theism, or even employ the latter word. His contem
porary, Lord Shaftesbury, on tho other hand, generall)
t;.3ed tho term theism, yet only as synonymous with deism.
THEISM
235
¥
ixnd with a protest against either being opposed to rcrcla-
tion (CAaracteri'iks, vol. ii. p. 209, eO. 1727). Kant, in
liis Kritii der reinen Vemun/l, explicitly dibtinguished
and opposed deism and theism, but in a very peculiar
manner. "The person who believes 'h a transcendental
theology alone is termed a dtist; ho who acknowledges
the possibility of a natural theology aho, a Ckeisl. The
former admits tliat wo can cognize by pure reason alone
the existence of a supreme being, but at the same liino
maintains that our conception of this being is purely
transcendental, and that all that we can say of it is that
it possesses all reality, without being able tode6ne it more
closely. The second asserts that reason is capable of
presenting us, from the analogy of nature, with a more
definite conception o' this being, and that it« operations,
as the cause of all things, are the results of intelligence
and free will The former regards the supreme being as
the cause of the world — whether by the necessity of his
nature, or as a free agent, is left undetermined , the latter
considers this being as the author of the world" ( JVerke,
ii 491, edited by Rosenkranz, Meiklejohn's tr., 387-8).
The account here given of deism seems neither self-con-
sistent nor intelligible, and applies, equally well or equally
ill, to every system — atheistic, agnostic, pantheistic, ideal-
istic, or materialistic — which admits the existence but
not the intelligence or personality of an Urwesen, eternal
being, or first cause , and the account of theism excludes
all reference to revelation, and applies to every form of
what has been regarded as deism. In recent theology
deism has generally come to be regarded as, in common
with theism, holding m opposition to atheism that there is
a God, and in opposition to pantheism that God is distinct
from the world, but as differing from theism in maintain-
ing that God is separate from the world, having endowed
it with self-sustaining and self-acting powers, and then
abandoned it to itself. This distinction is real, and
perhaps the best attainable. At the same time many
called deists must be admitted not to have taught deism
thus understood , for example, most of the " English
deists " did not deny that God was present and active i.i
the laws of nature, but merely denied that He worked
otherwise than through natural laws. If by deism be
aieant belief in a personal God who acts only through
natural laws, and by theism belief in a personal God who
acts both through natural laws and by special interven-
tions, this junction also is real, and may be useful. The
chief objection to it is that deism when so contrasted with
theism does not denote, or even include, what theologians
have generally agreed to call by the namu.
The present article will treat specially of theism in the
sense of monotheism, but not to the exclusion of the
relations between theism thus understood and theism in
other acceptations.
Nature of Monotheism has been very generally assumed to have
I'v""*' been the primitive religion. Lord Herbert, Cudworth,
'""" and others have elaborately defended this opinion in the
past, and it still finds learned advocates. On the other
hand, the vast majority of recent anthropologists hold that
religion originated in some rude phase of polytheism, and
that monotheism has been everywhere preceded by poly-
theism. Schelling, Max Miiller, and Hartmann have main-
tained that the starting-point of religion was henotheism, an
imperfect kind of monotheism, in which God was thought
of as one, only because others had not yet presented them-
selves to the mind, — a monotheism of which polytheism
was not the contradiction, but the natural development.
Pantheism has also been frequently represented to bo the
earliest phase of religion. All these representations, how-
ever, will be found on examination to be very conjectural.
The present state of our knowledge does not warrant our
raiiioD.
holding any view regarding the nature of primeval religion
as established. The data which cany us farthest in our
search for the historical origin of religion are undoubtedly
the names expressive of the Divine which hive been pro-
served in the most ancient languages. They show us how
men conceived of the Divinity long before the erection of
the oldest monuments or the inscription of the oldest
records. Language is much older than any of the state-
ments in language. But language by no means carries us Evidence
back to primitive man, or even to the historical origin of °f '^".
the idea of deity. The Egyptian word nutar and the ^^^ "f"
names of the Egyptian gods found in the oldest Egyptian
inscriptions prove that at a date long before the Egjptiana
wrote history, or are known to have worshipped animals
or ancestors, they conceived of Divinity as power, and
their deities as great cosmic forces ; but, as that word and
these names cannot be shown to have belonged to man's
primitive speech, they cannot show what was man's
primitive religious belief, and do not disprove that the
forel'alhers of the people who first used them may have
had some lower and ruder conception of the Divine than
that which they convey. There are, according to Dr
Legge, no words in the Chinese language known to be
older than ti, t'ien, shang It. and these words are good
historical evidence that the Chinese conceived of the
Divine, thousands of years before the Christian era, as a
universal ruling power, comprehending the visible heavens,
and an invisible, infinite, omnipresent force, manifested in
the azure of the firmament, possessed so far of intellectual
and moral qualities, and working towards ethical ends.
There is no evidence that when the Chinese first used
these words they worshipped fetiches, but neither is there
evidence to the contrary, and even if there were it would
not disprove that the ancestors of the Chinese had passed-
through an era of feticbism. All members of the Semitic
family of languages have the word El, or some modifica-
tion of it, to denote deity, and hence we may conclude
that the Semites had the word in this sense before they
separated and became distinct peoples, but not that the
idea of God originated when the word was first tkus-
employed. All members of the Teutonic group of
languages have the word God, or some slightly modified
form thereof, and all members of the Slavic group of
languages have the word Bo^, or some modification
thereof, to express the same conception : it does not follow
that either Teutons or Slavs had no idea of deity until the
former so applied the word God, and the latter so applied
the word Bog. Both Teutons and Slavs are Aryans, and'
there is an older Aryan term for deity than either God or
Bog. The Sanscrit deva, the Latin deiis, and the northern
Ii, tivar, are forms of a word which must have beon used
by the Aryans to express their idea of the Divine when,
in a prehistoric age, they lived together in their original
home ; but we are not entitled to infer that even that
prehistoric Aryan term is the oldest word for deity. It
may not bo older than the primitive Semitic word or the
primitive Turanian word, or the nutar of the Egyptians,
or the t'ien of the Chinese, or the earliest designations for
the Divine in the earliest African and American languages.
And there may have been Divine names older than any of
these. The science of language has been able to recon-
struct in part a prehistoric Aryan language, and may
similarly be able to reconstruct a prehistoric Semitic
language, a prehistoric Turanian, and perhaps a prehistoric
Hamitic language. Should it proceed thus far it will
probably perceive that all these prehistoric languages arose
out of a still earlier prehistoric language in which also
were words expressing ideas of the Divine. There may
be many strata of language buried too deep for human
excavation in the abysi;es of unrscorded time. By po poa-
-236
THEISM
Evidence
of book of
Genesis.
'Evidence
jf his-
tory.
E:irly reli-
gions not
niono-
'hcistic.
sibility, therefore, can the analysis of existing languages
disclose to us the oldest name for deity or the historical
origin of the idea of deity-. -Geology shows the vast
antiquity of man, and notliing proves that ho, may not
have been awed or comforted by thoughts of the Divine
ages before the invention of the oldest Aryan or Semitic
words. It is merest conjecture to assign the formation of
the conception of deity to the dawn of historic time.
Between primitive speech, primitive" religion, the primitive
condition of man, and- the little streak of light called
human history there stretches an immeasurable expanse of
darkness.
The belief in primitive monotheism is generally rested
on the authority of the opening chapters of Genesis.. It
is, however, doubtful if the appeal to them be legitimate,
because doubtful if their strict historicity can be proved
to those. who insist on judging them merely by critical
and historical criteria, or even if it can be fairly inferred
from the viow that they form part of a revelation. Then,
although theje chapters plainly teach monotheism, and
represent the God whose words and acts are recorded in
the Bible as no i.nere national God but the only true God,
they do not teach, what is alone in question, that there
was a primitive monotheism, — a monotheism revealed and
known from the beginning. They give no warrant to the
common assumptioa that God revealed monotheism to
Adam, Noah, and others before the flood, and tliat the
traces of monotheistic beliefs and tendencies in heathen-
dom are derivable from the tradition of this primitive and
aniediluvian monotheism. Tlie one true God is repre-
sented in Genesis as making himself known by particular
words and in particular ways to Adam, but is nowhere
said to have taught him that He only was God. Adam
kaew, of course, only one God, as there was only one God
to know ; but that he knew therfe was only one God we
are not told, nor are any grounds given us even for con-
jecturing that he knew it. We are told that God created
the heavens and earth, but not that Adam was told it,
and wejinow too little about Adam to be able to conceive
how he could have understood the statement. We are
informed th^t he knew God — the God who manifested
himself to him in particular acts, but not what general
idea he formed of God — whether henotheistic, pantheistic,
or monotheistic, whether definitely exclusive of poly-
tKeism or not, or in what measure anthropomorphic. It
is »\ot otherwise as regards what is reported of Noah.
In fi'.ct, primitive monotheism is read into the records in
Genesis only because they are read in an inaccurate and
nncpitical manner. If read aright, it would be seen that,
while tliey speak much of how God acted towards man,
they speak so extremely little as' to- what early man knew
of God that the appeal to them on behalf of the hypo-
thesis of primitive monotheism must be (utile, even on the
traditional view of their authorship and hi.storicity.'
It is impossible to prove historically that monotheism
was the primitive religion. Were, then, the oldest known
historical forms of religion monotheistic? Many maintain
they were, but adoqualo evidence has never been adduced
for the 0[jinion. The oldest known religion is probably
tho Egyptian, and for at least three thousand years its
I,
> * Among work.s in wliich tlic hypotlicsis of i>i imitlvc inonolliviMn 13
«upporte4. llio foUowinK ni.iy Iic mcntinnuft : — Steuco, He Vcnnni
I'lillosojjhia, \M0; Ikilirri, /)c Hiininmr. finlilmm, 1045; (!Me,
C'MHof the OcntiJi-^. lGlifl-7R; Cu.lw..itli, Tnu: l,ddltxtunl Si/xU-m,
1678; P,ry.-»iit, Ancienl Mylluilmjy, 1774-76, Creireer, SipnbUJi jj.
jl/i/Z/w^c/iV;, 1SI9-21 ; Do U'inal.l. /.iv/iiJndo). /Vmiiivc, 1819; Lllkc-ir,
Trailitimicti df^ Mciischcvifescldechtf!^ 130C; Gl.-nlstonc, Utmifr and
iliA Uo^iurric A'jc. 1800; El)r..ril, Apiloiicld:. pt. n., 18J5; Zucklcr,
Ldmvom IhstanU dcs Hm.-:chcn, ISSO; Cotili, Ori.jtns of Itdiijioti
and J,an>iiui'jc, 1884 ; Uawlinson, Jiarltj /'rcvutcncc of Monolhcistic
Melius (No. 11 pf Prcsunt D-iy Tr--vcts).
history can bo traced by the aid of authentic records con- Egyptian
temporary with tho facts te which they relate. Its reH8»»-
origin, however, is not disclosed by Egyptian history, and
was unknowif to the Egyptians themselves. When it first
appears in the light of history it has already a definite
form, a character not rude and simple, but of considerable
elevation and subtility, and is complex in contents, having
certain great gods, but not so many as in later times,
ancestor-worship, but not se^ developed as in later times,
and animal worship, but very little of it as compared with
later times. Foi he opinion that its lower elements were
older than the higher there is not a particle of properly
historical evidence, — not a trace in the inscriptions of mere
propitiation oF ancestors, or- of belief in the absolute
divinity of kings or animals ; on the contrary, ancestors
are always found propitiated through prayer to some of
the great gods', kings worshipped as emanations ?nd
images of the sun-god, and tho divine animals adored
as divine symbols and incarnations. The greater gods
mentioned on the oldest tombs and in the oldest writings
are comparatively few, and their mere names — Osiris^
Horus, Thoth, Seb, Nut, Anubis, Apheru, Ra, Isis, Neith,
Apis — conclusively prove that they were not ancient kings
or deceased ancestors, but chiefly powers of nature, and
especially, although not exclusively, of the heavens ; yet
from the earliest historical time they were regarded as
not merely elemental, but as also ethical powers, working
indeed visibly and physically in the aspects and agents of
nature, yet in conformity to law and with intelligence and
moral purpose. Wherever the powers of nature are thus
worshipped as gods, the feeling that the separate powers
aVe not all power, that the particular deities are not the
whole of divinity, must be entertained and will find
expression. The Egyptians had undoubtedly, such a sense
of the unity of the Divine from the dawn of their history,
and they expressed it so strongly in various ways from a
very early period that they have been pronounced mono-
theists not merely by theologians attached to a traditional
dogma but by most eminent Egyptologists — Do Rougi,
Mariette, Brugsch, and Renouf. As these scholars, how-
ever, truthfully present the facts, they satisfactorily refute
themselves. A religion with about a dozen great gods —
distinct as regards their names, characteristics, histori,e3,
relationships,' symbols, and worship — is not monotheism in
the ordinary or proper sense of the term.' A religion in
which the Divine is viewed as merely immanent in nature,
and the deities deemed physical as well as nioi-al, elemental
as well as ethical powers, is rather pantheistic than mono-
theistic. Further, all assertions to the effect that tho
anity of the Divine is most emphatically expressed in the
earliest historical stages of the religion are conti-ai-y to
tlio evidence adduced even by those w-|io make them.
To quote Patali-Hotcp as a proof of the monotheism of
the Egyptian religion in its oldest historical phase is as
uncritical as it would be to draw Homeric thcologj from
the dialogues of Plato. The Egyptian religion nas a
polytheism which implied monism'; it was not mono-
theism., which is exclusive of polythci.sm; ILencc, not-
wilh.stnnding frequent approximations to monotheism, .the
general result of the develoi)mcnt of its monistic principles
'Was pantheism, not monotheism. As to the anoiert Chint-^e
Cliincse religion, Dr Leggc easily shows' that Prof. Tfcle'.i '«l'o'<>a
dusr-ription of it as "a purified and organized worship./)!
.Npuits, wiUi a pi-i-doininant fclirlii^t Iciidency," Iras no
historical warrant, but he fails completely to substantiate
his own view, namely, that it was a strict and proper
monotheism. Tho names T'ien and Ti alTbrd no evidence
that tho early Chinese fathers regarded deity as truly and
projierly spiritual and fx-rsonal. It is not in tho most
ancient Cliinese WTitincs that sDiritualit-y and personality
II L ] S M
237
are ascribed to Tieo, and such aseriptioDS are exceptional
in CUinese writings of any date. The great development
of ancestor worship in China has been largely due to the
imjjersonal character of Tien. The "arguments which
have been adducetl in support of the hj'pothesis of a
primitive Semitic monotheism are also insiitficicnt. M.
Renan's belief in a monotheistic instinct peculiar to the
Semitic race has been so often and so convincingly shown
to, be contradicted both by history and psychology that
another refutation of it might well be regarded as a mere
slaying of the slain. Divine names like El, Baal, Adon,
^nd Mclech, being the oldest terms in the Semitic languages
xnressive of the Divinity, and having been retained
iii-ough all the changes and perversions of Semitic reli-
gion, have often been maintained to imply that primitive
Semitic belief was monotheistic. But in reahty Baal,
Melech, and Adon were not names originally, or indeed
at any time, given to the one Supreme God, or exclusively
to any particular god ; on tbe contrary, they were titles
applicable to many different gods. The oldest historical
form of Aryan religion — the form in Which the Vcdas
present it — is designated by Max Miiller henotheism, in
opposition to the organized anthropomorphic polytheism
to which he restricts the term polytheism, but henotheism
tlios understood includes polytheism in its wider and more
ordinary acceptation, while it excludes monotheism pro-
perfy so called. The oldest known form of Aryan religion
Fas indubitably polytheistic in the sense of being the
worship of various nature-deities ; and everything approxi-
mating to monotheism in India, Persia, Greece, and other
Aryan-peopled lands was the product of later and more
advanced thought. The assertion that history everywhere
or ^en anywhere shows religious belief to have com-
menced with monotheism is not only unsupported by
evidence, but contrary to evidence.^
^Vhile the oldest known religions of the world were thus
not forms of monotheism, neither were they mere poly-
theisins, wholly devoid of monistic and monotheistic germs
and tendencies. . The Chinese religion, indeed, can hardly
be said to have bSen at any period a polytheism, the
Chinese people no more regarding spirits and deceased
ancestors as gods than Roman Catholics' so regard angels
and saints. They have throughout their whole known
histbry explicitly" and clearly acknowledged the unity of
the Divine — the uniqueness of T'ien (Ti, Shang-Ti). Had
Ihey in like manner acknowledged the spirituality, per-
sonality, transcendence of the Divine, their monotheism
would have been indubitable. Then, even in those ancient
religions, where a plurality of deities is apparent, a sense
of the unity cf the Divine is notwithstanding implied, and
a the course of their development comes to expression in
raiions ways. It could not be otherwise, for in these
religions the divine powers, (deities) are also powers of
ttatnre, and hence sprung from and participant in a
mysterious common nature, an ultimate and universal
agency which is at once the source of physical and divine
existences and forces. NeithBr nature-deities nor powers
of nature are ever conceived of, or iadsed can be conceived
of, as entirely distinct and independent. The lowest forms
>f polytheism, such as fetichism and animism, have no
more marked charactsristic than the indeliniteness of their
* The \new 'opposed in tbe above 'paragraph is that raaiDtained in
".he following v?orks {as well as those meDtiODed in the pTevious note),
-De Rouge, £ludes sur le RUuel Funirairc, I860; Renouf, Hibbcrt
Lectures, 1879 ; Brugsch, Jieliffion «. MyUwlogie d. alien Aegypler,
1884 ; Legge, Rdigim ofUie Chinese, 1880 ; Kenan, .ffis/. dcs Lamjucs
S^mitiques, also CoTisideratums sur 2e Caraei^re Gen. des Peuples
Semitujues, and N(mveUesC(msideraticms ; Pescb, Z)er GoUesUgriff in
den Keidnischai Rdigianen des AUerihums, 1886. Among the many
replies to Renan, Max Miiller's ("Semitic Monotheism," in Chips, vol.
i.)snd Steinthal'a (in Z. V.S. ir., i.) specially merit to be mentioned.
idea of the Divine and the iniporfcct individualization of
their deities. In the higliest foi ms of nature-worship, cy.,
the Vcdic, Eg}'ptian, and Babylonian-Assyrian, the same
trait is perceptible. This implicit monism of nature-
worship may, through the action of various causes, come
to explicit utterance in diverse modes, and has in fact done
so, with the result that even in the oldest known poly-
theisms are to be found remarkable approximations to
monotheism. One form of approximation was henotheism.
When worship is ardent and earnest the particular god
worshipped is apt to have ascribed to hip the attributes,
as it were, of all the gods— an almost absolute and
exclusive godhead. Max Miiller has sbown how prominent
a phenomenon henotheism is in the Vedas.*-- Page Renoul
has shown that it is very conspicuous also in the ancient
inscriptions and hymns of Egypt. Horns, Ra, Osiris,'
Amun, Knum, were severally spoken of as if each were
absolute God, invested not only with distinctive divine
attributes but with all divine attributes.' In the religious
records of Babylon and Assyria monotheistic approxima-
tions of the same kind are likewise common. Now, in
themselves such monotheistic modes of expression may
truly be held to be the products, of passing moods of mind,
not reflexions of permanent conviction. But every mood
of mind tends ,to perpetuate itself, and the enthusiasm
of piety- ■which utters itself- in henothei-stic praises and
prayers may take abiding possession of the soul of a
powerful ruler or even of the hearts of a whole class of
society or of a whole people, and may seem to them to
find the strongest possible confirmation in experience.
We may illustrate from Assyrian religious history.
Tiglath-Pileser showed a marked preference for the
worship of Asshur, to him "king of all the gods," "he
who rules supreme over the gods." Nebuchadnezzar,
again, showed a great partiality for the god Jlerodach,
and applied exclusively to him such magnificent titles as.
" the lord of all beings," " the lord of the house of the
gods," " the lord of lords," " the lord of the gods," " the
king of heaven and earth." Nabonidus, on the other
hand, specially revered Sin, the moon-god, and represented
him as "tl:e great divinity," "the king of gods upon
gods," "the cliief and king of the gods of heaven and
earth." A preference of this kind might arise from some
merely accidental cr jiersonal cause, and be confirmed by
exi>eriences mainly_ individual, and yet have a vast
historical influence." The devotional choice of a people
must tend, however, still more than that of any monarch
to the elevation of one god towards absolute godhead.. It
was accordingly what raised Asshur, the special national
god of the Assyrians, to the head of the Babylonian-
Assyrian pantheon during the Assyrian period. In a
struggle of deities for supremacy the national god has an
immense advantage in that he has both the [jiety and the
patriotism of the people on his side. His rule is'identified
with providence ; he is credited with all tbe victories and
successes of the nation ; and his power and godhead seem
certified by fact and experience. Tbe logic of events in
every advancing nation combines with the essential tend-
encies of piety and with the growth of conscience and
reason to promote belief in the unity and ]>erfection of
the Divine. The general course of providence i.^ no more
polytheistic than it is atheistic. The best exemplification
of.the operation of the piety of an influential class in tran-
scending polytheism is Brahmanism. But lor the impulse
given by Brahmanical piety Brahnianical speculation would
never have reduced the Vedic gods to" n»nifestations of
Brahma. Henotheistic forms of approximation to mono-
theism are not, however, the only ones. Particular gods
— all of them — may be dropped out of view, and tho
generic thought of God alone retained. The mh'.d and
238
THEISM
heart of tbc devout may be directed exclusively ti> the
power of the powers, the God in the go<i.s, (Jad simply,
. the Divinity. The formation of names expresMug Divinity
10 the abstract is au evidence of the existence of such a
ipr(M:e.ss. and names of the kind are to be found even auinng
very rude peoples. But there are more obvious and con-
clusive indications In one of the most ancient of books,
loi example, and probably the oldest manu.scnpt in the
world, the maxims of Patab-Hotep, a wise Ei^yplian prince
ol the fifth dynasty, God simply («Wij/-).is otlen spoken
of without a name or any mythological characlerisUc. and
in a way which is in itself quite monotheistic " If any
one bearetb himself proudly he will fie humbled by God,
who niakelh his strength. ' If thou art a wise man,
bring up thy .son in t.he love of God ' ' God loveth the
obedient, and hateth the disobedient " Sentences like
these standing alone would be pronounced by every one
monotheistic , and even wDen standing alongside of refer
encea to " gods ' and " powers ' they show that said gods
and powers were not deemed by the Egyptian sage incon-
sistent with oneness of power and godhead or exhaustive
of their fulness In Babyloniao-Assyrian religious history
there are also distinct traces of the rise of the spirits
ol worshippers above particular deities, simply to deity.
Sometimes they apfiear with special clearness in con-
nexions which tell of awakened and afflicted conscience,
of the pressure of a sense of sin and guilt forcing on the
•heart, as it were, a conviction of One with whom it has to
deal, ol Its need of the forgiveoe.ss and favour, not of this
god or of that, but of God. The following passage may
be cited as an instance 'O my Lord, my sins are many,
my trespasses are great, and the wrath of the gods has
.plagued me with disease, and with sickness and sorrow.
1 fainted, but no one stretched forth his hand ! I groaned,
but no one heard ' O Lord, do not abandon Thy servant ,
in the waters of the great stream do Thou take his hand .
the sins which he has committed do Thou turn to righteous-
ne.ss ■ Many parallel passages might bo drawn from
Hindu. Greek, and other sources Clearness of moral
perception is decidedly favourable to monotheistic bebef.
The practical reason contributes as well as the speculative
reason, and preci.sely in the measure of its heaJthiness and
vigour, to the formation of a true idea o' the Divine. It
was due more to their moral earnestness and insight than
to their intellectual superiority that the Persians came
nearer to monotheism than any other people of heathen
Antiquity. Ahnman w£is entirely evil, and therefore only
to be hated and combated ; while Ahuramazd was abso-
lutely divine, perfectly good, and therefore to be supremely
worshipped and obeyed. This moral dualism approached
more closely to true monotheism than the later speculative
monism, which placed above both Ahuramazd and Ahnman
Zervanakarene, boundless time, indeterminate being, an
ethically ladiflerent destiny. Finally, reason in striving to
understand and explain the world tends towards mouo-
theism Th» mind cannot be expected to recognize the
unity of God until it recognizes the unity of nature . when
it sees nature to be a whole, a universe or cosmos, it
cannot but form a conception of it which will be panthe-.
istic. if the unity of substance, law, and evolution be alone
acknowledged, and monotheistic if a unity of causabty,
rational plan, and ethical purpose be also apprehended.
In the measure in which reason advan^-es either on the
path of scientific investigation or of philosophical specu-
lation, polytheism must retreat and disappear , in the
measure in which it discerns unity, order, sy.stem, moral
govemmeht, indications of spiritual character and design
in the world, monotheisqi_ must rise and spread. Now, in
the ehief progressive heathen nations reason, it can be
iproved, has gradually gamed oo imagination. Hence the
polytheisms which they built up in their youth have been
undermined and broken down by them in their maturity.-
A monotheistic movement can be clearly traced in
ancient Greece. The popular religion of Greece, as it
appeared in the Homeric poems, was as distinctly poly-
theistic and as little monotheistic af any known religion.
Its gods were all finite, begotten, and thoroughly indi-
vidualized beings. The need of unity was responded to
only by the supremacy of Zeus, and Zeus was subject to
destiny, surrounded by an aristocracy far from orderly
or obedient, and participant in weakness, foUy^ and vice.
To Its eternal honour the Greek spirit, however, was not
content with so inadequate a conception of the Divine, but
laboured to amend, enlarge, and elevate it. The poets
and dramatists of Greece purified and ennobled the popular
myths, and, in particular, so idealized the character and
agency of Zeus as to render them accordant with a true
conception of the Godhead. The Zeus of vEschylus and of
Sophocles was not only not the Zeus of Homer, but was a
god belief in whom was inconsistent with belief in any
of the Homeric gods. The dramatists of Greece did not
a^^ail the popular conception of Divinity, but they sub-
stituted for It one which implied that it was without
warrant or excuse. They developed the germs of mono-
theism in the Greek rebgion, while leaving untouched its
polytheistic assumptions and affirmations. These, how-
ever, were not only persistently undermined, but often
directly attacked by the philosophers, some of whom
eventually reached a reasoned knowledge of the one
absolute Mind. Xenophanes, Empedocles, and Anaxagoraa
were among the pre-Socralic philosophers who, on grounds
of reason, rejected the polytheism and anthropomorphism
of the current mythology, and advocated belief in one all-
perfect divine nature. Socrates, although avoiding all
attacks on the popular religion calculated to weaken the
popular reverence for divine things, had real faith only in
the one supreme Reason, the source and end of all things ,
and the best representatives of later Greek philosophy
were in this respect hi.'! followers. Plato attained by his
dialectic a conception of God which will always deeply
interest thoughtful men. God he deemed the highest
object of knowledge and love, the source of all being,
cognoscibility, truth, excellence, and beauty, — the One, the
Good. The controversy as to whether his conception may
be more correctly designated tbeistic or pantheistic will,
perhaps, never be brought to a decisive conclusion, but
in Its general truth and grandeur it must be admitted
far to transcend either the monotheism of the vulgar
or any popular form of pantheism. Aristotle's character-
istic cautiousness of judgment showed itself m the very
meagreness of his theology. The representation which he
gives of God hardly meets at all the demands of affection
and of practical life, yet so far as it goes will be generally
regarded as thoroughly reasonable. It is more unequivo-
cally theistic than that of Plato. It sets forth God as
without plurality and without parts , free from matter,
contingency, change, and development , the eternal un-
moved mover, whose essence is pure energy , absolute
' The bMt literature relating to the subject of the preceding
parap-aph is indlcaled id the lists of books given m conneiioD with
Iho relovant sections m Tiele's OiUhnes of Ute Bislory of Rf.l\.g\on,
and particularly in the Fiench traoslatioD by M. Vemes. Hegel's
Pkiltisuphi, of /ie,ligion. Biuisen's Ood m History, Prennian Clarke's
Teti Orrat keligums, the .Si (iiles LpctuTe3 im. th^ Faiths of the Worlds
still morn ihft series of Sacrai BfHiks of iht East, and of ancient texts
publisled undei the uUe ol Ra-jtrds of the Past, and the volumes of
Ibb Rev de V ilist. deji Reitqums, will bo found useful to those wish-
ing lo make a survey nl hcatliftn thought regarding God so far as it
approximated lo lliy theislic ide.x For the rooceplions of the Divine
entertauied by uon-civihzed peoples, sec especially Waltz's Anlhro'
poltigie, and RSville'a RdigwTia des Non-Civilisii, who both give
extensive hsts of literature
Mor.o-
thMtia
cicWju«
in G*6i!<)
THEISM
239
spirit, self-thinking reason, the voijax? vo>)<rc<i)s ; the one
perfect being, whose life is completely blessed, and whose
likeness is the goal towards which the whole universe
tends. Stoicism was onginaUy and predominantly a
materialistic or hylozoic form of pantheism , but some of
its greatest representatives conceived of God in a decid-
edly theistic manner as the supreme moral reason. The
beautiful hymn of Clean thes to Zeus is full of the purest
devotional feeling, springing from a clear sense of personal
relationship to the one all ruling personal Spirit. Greek
philosophy proceeded throughout its whole course in entire
independence of the popular polytheism, and was a con-
tinuous demonstration of its futility , and it largely con-
tributed to that reasoned natural knowledge of God wliich
must underlie all rational belief in revelation. It discerned
in some measure all the chief arguments which have since
been employed as theistic proofs. It failed, however, to
conceive of God as truly creative, or of the universe as in
its very substance the result of divine action , it failed also
to make evident, even to cultured minds, the superiority
of monotheism to pantheism ard scepticism ; and it failed
especially to convert the common people to faith in one
sole Deity.'
Mm*. Israel presents us with the first example of a mono-
'*«"» in theistic nation. The controversies as to how Israel ac-
Iwtri. quired this pre-eminence can only be decided by critical
and historical investigations into which we cannot here
enter (see Iskael).
OW Testa- The science of Old Testament theology, giving due heed
■">«"' to the results of critical, historical, and exegetical research
thetlogy. regarding the documents with which it deals, has to trace
by what means and through what stages Hebrew mono-
theism was developed and established ; and to the treatises
on this science our readers must be referred. The mono-
theistic movement m Israel was one of continuous progress
through incessant conflict until a result was reached of
incalculable value to humanity That result was a faith
in God singularly comprehensive, sublime, and practical, —
a faith which rested, not on speculation and reasoning, but
on a conviction of God having directly revealed Himself
to the spirits .'f men, and which, while ignoring meta-
physical theorizing, ascribed lO God all metaphysical as
well as moral perfections , a faitb which, in spite of its
simplicity, so apprehended the relationship of God to nature
as neither to confound them like pantheism nor to separate
them like deism, but to assert both the immanence and the
transcendence of the divine a faith in a living and per-
sonal God, the almighty and sole creator, preserver, and
ruler of the world . a faith, especially, in a God holy in all
His ways and righteous in all His works, who was directing
and guiding human affairs to a destination worthy of
His own character . and. therefore, an essentially ethical,
elevating, and hopeful faith. The existence of utterances
in the Hebrew Scriptures which show that Hebrew faith
was not always thus enlishteoed. and sometime-s conceived
of God as partial and cruel is no reason tor not acknow-
ledging the general lustice and grandeur of its representa-
tion of the Supreme •'
Ne« The God of the Old Testament is also the God of the
Testi- New Christ and the apostles accepted what i'oses and
^■^ the prophets had taught concerning God , they assigned to
' See Zeller, Die £?nivncfceluTi{j (Uf Monolheismu» bet den Onechcn
'{in VoTtrdge, vol i. ) ; and Cocker, Christianity and Oreek Philosophy^
1875; also, Meiners, BistoHa Dof:lTj.nw de V'ero Deo, 1780.
• See the 0. T. Theotcgies of Oehler. Schultz. Kayser. Piepenbrin^
&C.; Ewald, Lehre der Bibel v(m Oott \ Baudissen, Stud. z. Scmit.
Rdigi&nsgeschichU ; Knenen, Bibbert Lecture ; Duhm, Theoloifie a.
Brophiien ; W. Robertson Smith, Prophtts of IsraeL, &c. As to the
name " Jahveh," an instructive summary and examination of views is
given by Prof. Driver in his article " Recent Theories on the Origin
and Xatnreof the Tetragraramatoti." In Stvdia Bibliea, Oxford, 1885.
Him no other attributes than had abeady been assigned to
Him. Like Moses and the prophets- also they made no
attempt formally to prove the existence or logically to
define the nature of God, but spoke of Him either as from
vision or inspiration. And yet their doctrine of God has
original and peculiar features. Thus, first, the fatherhood
of God was taught with incomparable distinctness and
fulness by Jesus Christ, — a fatherhood not merely of
natural creation or national election, but of spiritual
relationship of love, sympathy, mercy, and grace foi
individual souls. Such fatherhood, if acknowledge, at
all, was only very rarely and vaguely acknowledged ^n
heathendom, and, although not wi.olly absent from the
Old Testament, is far from clearly and prominently there,
and, indeed, is present chiefly by implication in pa.ssages
which refer directly only to God's connexion with the
people of Israel, as an elect and covenant people it is
conspicuous and central, however, in the conception of
God introduced by Christianity Secondly, Divine tather
hood had jts correlate in Divine sonship God is repre-
sented in the New Testament as revealing His lathetljood
through His Son, Jesus Christ. In Old Testament repre-
sentations of Israel, the Messiah, and Wisdom, and in the
Logos doctrine of Judaeo-Alexandrian philosophy, some
approximations to this conception of the Divine may be
traced, but they fell far short of it. According to the
New Testament, God is not merely infinitely exalted
above the world and definitely distinguished therelrom, nor
merely immanent and everywhere operative in nature, but
also incarnate in Christ ; and Christ is not merely " the
Son of man," essentially sharing in humanity and truly
representing it before God, but also " the Son ot God,"
essentially sharing in Divinity, and giving the fullest
disclosure of it to man. The foundation of the Christian
faith as laid down in the New Testament is that Christ
through His unique relation as Son to the Father perfectly
declared and expressed the nature and will of God id
relation to buman salvation Thirdly, God is exhibited
in the New Testament as the Spirit, the Holy Ghost, who
dwells 10 the spirits of men. to work in them the will of
the Father, and to conform them to the image of the Son.
Only when thus exhibited can the revelation of the Divine
name be regarded from the New Testament point of view
as other than manifestly incomplete Even the manifestar
tion of God in Christ, being obiective and single, must be
supplemented by a manifestation which is subiective and
multiple, before the one God. the one Christ, can find a
place in the manifoldness ot souls, the multitude of sep-
arate hearts and lives. The manifestation of the Spirit
IS such a manifestation, and completes in principle the
revelation of the Christian idea of God. the revelation of
His threefold nature and name This revelation completed
God can be thought of as absolute spirit, absolute love,
absolute good, and was, to some extent explicitly, and
throughout implicitly, so represented in the New Testa-
ment. It IS precisely in virtue ot the threefold represen-
tation of God characteristic of the New Testament that
Christianity is still held by so many of the world's pro-
foundest thmkers as the absolute and perfect religion, the
crown and consummation ot religion, — speculatively con-
sidered, an absolute revelation of God, and practically
considered, a perfect salvation, — within which there may
be infinite evolution and progress, but beyond which there
can be no true light or real growth.'
The threefold representation of God in the New Testa- Doctnte
ment was an entirely religious and practical representa- of ""
tion, inseparably connected with the historical tacts of """'''■
" The New Testament representation of God is treated of in the Xev
Testament Theologies of Schniid, Reusa, Oosterzee, and Weiss ; also in
Wittichen, Die Idee OoUee, 1865.
240
THEISM
Christ's life and the spiritual experiences of the early
Christians. It was not an ontological or even theological
doctrine, and will be identified by no competent exegete
with the dogma of the Divine Trinity set forth in the
oecumenical creeds. The propositions constitutive of the
dogma of the Trinity — the propositions in the symbols of
Nice, Constantinople, and Toledo relative to the immanent
distinctions and relations in the Godhead — were not drawn
directly from the New Testament, and could not be ex-
pressed in New Testament- terms. They were the pro-
ducts of reason speculating on a revelation to faith — the
New Testament representation of God as a father, a
redeemer, and a sanctifier — with a view to conserve and
vindicate, explain and comprehend it. They were only
formed through centuries of effort, only elaborated by the
lid of the conceptions and formulated in the terms of
Greek and Roman metaphysics. The evolution of the
doctrine of the Trinity was far the most important fact
in the doctrinal history of the church during the first five
;enturies of its post-apostolic existence. To trace and
lescribe it fully would be almost to exhibit the history of
Christian thought during these centuries. It had neces-
larily an immense influence on the development of theism.
The acceptance of the catholic doctrine of the Trinity
implied the rejection of pantheism, of abstract monotheism,
sf all forms of monarchianism or unitarianism. It decided
that theistic development was not to be on these lines or
in these directions. At the same time the dogma itself
was a seed for new growths of theistic thought, and
demanded a development consistent with its own nature.
It is a doctrine, not as to the manifestations and revela-
tions of Godhead, but as to their ground and explanation,
the constitution of Godhead, a doctrine as to a trinity of
essence, which accounts for the Trinity of the gospel dis-
pensation. It affirms the unity of God, but requires us
to conceive of His unity, not as an abstract or indeter-
minate self-identity, not as " sterile, monotonous simpli-
city," but as a unity rich in distinctions and perfections, —
the unity of an infinite fulness of life and love, the unity
, of a Godhead in which there are Father, Son, and Holy
Spirit, a trinity of persons, a diversity of properties, a
variety of offices, a •multiplicity of operations, yet sameness
of nature, equality of power and glory, oneness in purpose
and affection, harrpony of will and work. It finds its
dogmatic expression as to what is ultimate in it in the
formula — One substance in three persons, of which the first
eternally generates the second, and the third eternally
proceeds from the first and second. Now, manifestly,
however much such a doctrine as this may have satisfied
thought on a revelation as to the Godhead, it cannot have
exhausted or completed it. If it answered certain ques-
tions it raised others, and these more speculative and pro-
found than those which had been answered. What is
meant hy affirming God to be " substance " or " in three
persons " 1 What is meant by divine " generation " or
"procession"? How are the substance and persons
related 1 How are the persons distinguished and inter-
related 1 These and many kindred and connected ques-
tions reason became bound to discuss by its adoptipn of
the doctrine of the Trinity. This obligation could only be
temporarily and partially evaded or concealed by represent-
ing the doctrine as " a mystery " to be accepted simply on
authority or with blind faith. Data of the doctrine may
have been given to faith, but the doctrine itself was the
work of reason, and on no ground not plainly absurd could
that work bo held to have terminated in 589 a.d. As
Boon as an inspired record is left at all, as soon as any
Bpeculation is allowed on its contents, as soon as the pro-
cess of forming doctrine is permitted to begin, all conceiv-
able right tor stop the movement anywhere is lost. By the
blending, however, of trinitarianism with theism the whole
character of the latter was, of necessity, profoundly
changed. A trinitarian theism must be vastly different
from a unitarian as regards practice. It must be equally
so as regards theory. It must be far more speculative.
By its very nature it is bound to undertake speculative
labours in which a simply unitarian theism will feel no
call to engage.'
It was the general conviction of the early Christian Theism in.
writers that formal proofs of the Divine existence were natristio
neither necessary nor useful. In their view the idea of ""'■''"-•
God was native to the soul, the knowledge of God intuitive,
the mind of man a mirror in which, if not rusted by sin,
God could not fail to be reflected. The design argument,
however, came early into use and was frequently employed.
More speculative modes of reasoning were resorted to by
Dionysius of Tarsus, Augustine, and Boetius. The unity
of God had to be incessantly affirmed against polytheists,
Gnostics, and Manichaeans. The incomprehensibility of
God and His cognoscibility were both maintained, although
each was sometimes so emphasized as to seem to obscure
the other. That the knowledge of God may be reached
by the three ways of causality, negation, and emineiice was
implied by the pseudo-Dionysius, although only explicitly
announced by Scotus. Neither any systematic treatment
of the Divine attributes nor any elaborate discussion of
single attributes was attempted. The hypothesis of
eternal creation found a vigorous defender in Origen, bul
met with the same fate as the dualist hypothesis of un-
created matter and the pantheistic hypothesis of emana-
tion. Of all the patristic theologians Augustine was
undoubtedly the most philosophical apologist and ex-
ponent of theism. He alone attempted to refute agnos-
ticism, and to find a basis for the knowledge of God in a
doctrine of cognition in general. On the large, difficult,
and as yet far from adequately investigated subject, the
influence of Platonic and Aristotelian, Stoic and Academic,
Neopythagorean and Neoplatonic speculation on the for-
mation of the Christian doctrina de Deo, it is, pi course,
impossible here to enter.^
Mohammed (570-632) founded a monotheistic religion Mohins-
which spread with amazing rapidity through Arabia, Syria, '"*'*"
Persia, North Africa, and Spain, and gave, almost wherever *'"™'-
it spread, a mighty impulse to the minds and wills of
men, It was received as the gift of special inspiration
and revelation, although its creed contained little of
moment on which reason would seem to be incompetent
to decide. It had obvious merits, and must be adtnitted
to-have rendered real and important services to culture,
religion, and humanity, but had also conspicuous, faults,
which have done much injury to individual, domestic, and
national life. If the latest were always the best, it would
be the most perfect of the three great theistic religions of
the world ; but it is, in fact, the least developed and most
defective. Instead of evolving and extending, it marred
and mutilated the theistic idea which it borrowed. In-
stead of representing God as possessed of all spiritual
fulness and perfections, it exhibited Him as devoid of
the divinest spiritual attributes. It recognized His
transcendent exaltation above His creatures, but not His
sympathetic presence with His creatures ; apprehended
vividly His almighty power. His eternity. His omnipres-
ence and omniscience, but only vaguely and dimly His
moral glory. His \ov0 and goodness. His righteousness
' Banr, Ch. Wire v. d. Dreieinigkdt, &c., 1841-43; Meier, Lchrc
V. cT. Triniltil in hist. Entwickl., 1844.
» Koesler, Phitosophia Vetms Ecd. de Deo, 1782; and tho historios
of Christian doctrine by Hagenbach, 'Neaiider, Shtdd, Bonifa^, Sheldon,
Hamack, &c. ; Gangau.l', Dea h. Avguslinua speculative Lehre von
Gott, 1884.
THEISM
241'
and holioess. ■*■ Tho'Allah of Mohammed was' essentially
despotic »vill, and so fell far below the Jahveh of Moses,
essentially righteousness, and the Heavenly Father of
Christ, essentially holy love Mohammedanism is almost
as contrary to Christianity as one form of theism can be
to another. It is as unitarian as Christianity is trini-
tarian. Its cardinal tenet is as distinctly anti trinitarian
'as antipolyiheislic. It has often been represented as hav-
ing had the providential task assigned it of preparing the
way for Christianity by destroying polytheism ; in reality,
it has hitherto offered a far more stubborn resistance to
Christianity' than any polytheistic religion has done.'
Medieval The ipecferal world was so complex, so full of contrasts
ibaolog)-. and contradictions, that it cannot be "summed up ia a
foimul.x." Moat general statements current regarding it
will be found on examination only partially true. It
is often described as the age in which external religious
authority ruled, and all religious thought ran in narrow,
.Strictly prescribed paths, whereas, in fact, the medieval
theologians were far freer to speculate on almost all points
jof religious doctrine than Protestant divines have been.
Because traditionalism abounded, it is forgotten that ration-
sli.sni also abounded ; because scholasticism flourished,
that mysticism was prevalent ; because theism was com-
mon, that pantheism, speculative and practical, was not
uncommon. The Middle Age was, however, par ticdUnce,
the age of theology. Theology never before or since so
interested and dominated the human intellect. Nearly
every eminent mediaeval thinker was a theologian. The
chief streams of theistic belief and speculation which tra-
versed the Middle Age were three, — the Christian, Jewish,
■and Mohammedan. The first was much the broadest and
dullest. Few points of theistic doctrine were left un-
jliandled by the Christian d. vines of the Middle Age. The
iconclusions came to on the chief points were various and
divergent. As to the manner in which God is known, for
(instance, some laid stress en faith or authoritative revela-
tion ; others on immediate consciousness, the direct vision
,of the pure in heart, the illumination of the Spirit of God
in the minds and hearts of the true children of God ;
others on reason and proof ; and some attempted media-
[tion and synthesis. Anselm gave logical form to an a
'jiriori argument for the Divine e.xistence based on the idea
!of God as a being than whom a greater cannot be con-
ceived. His most ingenious attempt to demonstrate the
.absurdity of supposing' the perfect, the infinite, to be a
.mere subjective fiction prepared the way for the multitude
'of attempts, identical or similar in aim, which have since
'been made. Thomas Aquinas was the best representative
.of those who held that the invisible God was only to be
known through His visible works. He argued from motion
'to a mover, from effect to cause, from the contingent to
the' necessa.ry, from lower kinds of good to a supreme
good, and trom order and purpose in the world to a
governing intelligence. Raymond of Sebonde added to the
'ontol.igical and physico-teleological arguments a mo.'-al
argument. Willjam' of Occam criticized keenly and un-
ifavourably both the a prion and a postenori proofs, and
held that the existence of God was not a known truth but
merely an article of faith. There was not less diversity of
view as to how far God may be known. Erigena held
that even God Himself could not comprehend His own
nature, and EckLart that the nature of God is neces-
sarily unknowable, as being a nature without nature,
without predicates, without opposites, pure cneness. That
man cannot know God's real nature, cannot know Him }jcr
taentiam, cannot have a 'juUlditimi coyuitio Dei, and that
' See Moiiammed^^nism, nnd uulhontied there menlioiietl ; also
Kueoeu, //iWxrri Z,eciur«, lecLil.^witti autiiors oaJ^works there
Indicated. ' ^ '"
23—11
the so-called "attribi2tes''of Cod arc only descriptive of the
effects of His operations as they appear to the human
mind, or even are merely symbols or metaphors, was
maintained by many of the scholastic doctors. Aquinas,
for example, with all his cpnfidence as a dogmatic system-,
builder, so denied the cognoscibility of Cod. That the
human mind may have a true, although it cannot have a
perfect knowledge of God, — an apprehensive but not a
comprehensive knowledge of Him, — was, however, in the
Middle Age, as it has been ever since, the position most
commonly taken up. The scholastic divines discussed a
multitude of foolish questions regarding God, but that
was not duo to extravagant faith in the power of tho
human niiad to know or comprehend God. Prof Sheldon
very justly says, "on the whole, the scholastic theology,'
notwithstanding some strong negative statements, assumes
i.. reality a minimum of acquaintanceship with the essen-
tial nature of God." The negative statements are, for
the most part, those of the mystics with respect to the
beatific vision. ~ Media;val discussions as to the nature
of God turned chiefly on two points, — the relation of
the Divine essence to the Divine attributes and of the
one Divine substance to the three Divine persons. The
conclusion come to by the vast majority of scholastic theo-
logians on the first point was that the attributes were not
really or objectively in God, but merely human repre-]
sentations reflected, ad it were, on the idea of God, because
the mental constitution of man is what it is, and because'
God wished to be thought of in certain divers manners.'
To hold them objectively real in God, and therefore intrin-]
sically distinct either from the essence of God or from one,
another, was considered to be incompatible both with the
incomprehensibility and with the absolute simplicity of
the Divine nature. Duns Scotus, in maintaining that the'
attributes were formahtates recUiter disiinctse, took up an
exceptional position. On the other point the conclusion
as generally reached was one seemingly quite inconsistent
with the foregoing, namely, that the persons were objec-
tively and eternally real and distinct. The discrepancy ii
especially apparent in those theologians (<■.</., Anselm,
Abelard, Hugo and Richard of St Victor, Alexander of
Hales, and Aquinas) who represented the persons of the
Trinity as corresponding to distinctions among the very'
attributes which they in another reference denied to be
distinct. The mediseval schoolmen, with very few and
doubtful exceptions, conjoined with their theism the
doctrine of the Trinity as defined by the ancient church.'
Roscelin of Compiegne and Gilbert de la Porrte laid
themselves open to the charge of tritheism ; and obviously
nominalism, by allowing nothing but a nominal existence
to the essence or general nature of which the individual
is a specimen, tended towards tritheism, — towards resolv-
ing the Trinity into a triad of Divine individuals or self-
subsistent beings, connected only by a coniinon specific
character. While the schoolmen accepted the doctrine of
the Trinity on authority, they did not conceive them-
selves precluded from endeavouring to illustrate it and
to make it appear as consonant to reason as possible.
They sought to show its consistency with the unity of God,
and its general reasonableness by various speculative con-
siderations, but especially by the aid of analogies drawn
from the constitution of the mind and even from particular
physical phenomena. They did not suppose that they were
thereby demonstrating the iloctrine of the Trinity : they
fully recognized that doctrine to be the indication of a
mystery, " dark with excess of light," and the truth of
which could only be directly aiipiehcnded in the beatific
vision conferred by the highest and most special grace ;
but they proceeded on the belief that, inasmuch as it «aa
a. central truth of revelation, the whole creation, aud,.
' ' XXIIL — 31
242
T H E I S IM
niedan
above all, the nature and essence of man's spirit, must
bear witness' to it. At least one good result followed.
Those who exercised their minds on the doctrine of the
Trinity were necessarily led in some measure to form
another idea of God than that of either an indeterminate
unity or a confused synthesis of attributes, — to think of
Kim, with some clearness and steadiness, in an organic
and harmonious manner, as absolute being, absolute life,
absolute spirit, absolute intelligence, absolute love. Such
thought as this distinctly appeared in Anselm, the St
Victors, Aquinas, Bonaventura, Dante, &c. The omni-
presence, omnipotence, and omniscience of God, and,
generally, what are called His metaphysical and intellectual
attributes, were discussed with exces.sive elaborateness and
subtlety, while His moral attributes were left in the back-
ground, or considered without sufficient earnestness or
insight. The problems regarding the relationship of the
DIvme attributes to human agency, and, in particular, as
to the compatibility of Divme prescience and predestina-
tion with human freedom and responsibility, were even too
laboriously and minutely debated between the medieval
AugListinians and their opponents. What the disputants
on both sides lacked M'as intellectual humility. They
strode along " dim and perilous ways " as if they were in
plain and safe patli-s or as if their own faculties were
superhuman. As to the general relation of God to the
;univcrse, few, if any, of the schoolmen can be charged
with deism. While assigning to God a being and life
> transcending the universe, they also allirmed that He was
everywhere in the universe, everywhere wholly present,
everywhere essentially and actively present. Pantheism
was prevalent all through the Middle Ages, but only two
of its representatives, perhaps — Erigena and Eckhart, —
showed much speculative capa'uty.'
Mohammedan theism drew chiefly from faith and fana-
ticism the force which earned it onwards with such rapid-
■ ity in its early caxeer of conquest. At the same time it
* powerfully stimulated reason, as soon appeared in remark-
able intellectual achievements. Of course, reason could
not fail to reflect on the contents of the faith by which
it had been awakened. The result was the formation of
many schools of religious opinion. So far as our subject
is concerned, however, all mediieval Mohammedan thinkers
may be ranked as philo-sophers, theologians, or mystics.
The philosophers derived little of their doctrine from
Mohammed. Even in what they taught regarding God
they followed mainly Aristotle, and in some mea.sure the
Neoplatooists. They maintained the unity of God, but
conceived of it in a way unknown to Mohammed, namely,
as a unity allowing of the reality of no distinctions, quali-
ties, or attributes in God. Then, although they affirmed
the unity of God in the strictest abstract manner, they
were not monists but dualists, inasmuch as they denied
creation ex nikilo, and asserted the eternity of matter. The
mode in which they supposed the multiplicity of finite
' Pop the history of mediaeval theism may he consulted the histories
of philosujthy by Tenuemauii, Uiltcr, Erdniann, kc. ; the special
histories of niediaiv.il philosophy by Slockl and Haureaii. and of later
schol.ijiticism by K. Werner; the histories of the Trinity and of
Christian doctrine already nieutioned , and a multitude of monogr.iphs,
i.fj., those of Chnstiicb, Huber, and Stockl on Erigena; of Hasse,
Reinusat, Bouchitle on Anselm or his ontolo^ical argument ; Dehtzsch's
Kritische DaTstellung (lev Gntteslehre dfj Thomas Aquinas, Ritschl's
*'Gesch. Sludien z. ch. Lehre von Gott," in Jahresb. /. deutschi
Theul., X., referring chiefly to Aquinas and Scotus, &c. Medijeval
mysticism ha.s found in Schmidt, Lasson, Preger, Jundt, admirable
historians. On Eckhart there are good works by Marteiisen, Lasson,
anil othern ; seo also a paper by Prof. Pearson in MtnU, No. xli.
Ou mediaeval pi-edestuiariamsm consult chapter Id Mozley's Treatiae
on the Augushnxan Itoctrtne of PTCdir.linai\on. The keenest hostile
criticism of mediaeval theism is that of Past]ualo D'Ercole, 11 Ttxsmo
. fiioaojico ChruUano, lSfk|.
things to have been produced from God was by a series of
emanations originating in Divine intelligence, not in Divin©.
will. Their proofs of the Divine existence were, for the
most part, founded on the principle of causality. The
philosophers did not openly oppose the theism of the
Koran, but they ignored it or set it aside, and represented
it as only a useful popular faith, not a response to the
demands of cultured reason. The " theologians," on the
other hand, took their stand upon the Koran, sought to
defend and develop into doctrine its representations of
God,, and to show the inconclusiveness and inconsistencies
of the teaching of the philo.sophcrs regarding God. Even
those of them, however, who exalted faith and revelatioQ
most — the orthodo.x Motakallemin or Asharites — by no
means dispensed with philosophy and reason. It was
chiefly on the metaphysical hypothesis of the atomic consti-
tution of matter that they rested their proofs of the Divine
e.xistence. It was by subtle reasonings that they sought
to establish the non-eternity of matter and the unity and
immatemality of God. It was on speculative grounds that
they contended God had eternally possessed all the attri-
butes ascribed to Him in the Koran. Their predestina-
tionism was as logically elaborated as that of the Augus-
tiiiian scholastics. There flourished for a short period a
school of liberal Mohammedan theologians, the Motazil-
itcs, who, while accepting the two fundamental doctrines
of Islam — the unity of God and the divine mission of
Mohammed, — refused to regard tht Koran as an absolute
religious authority, and sought to transform Mohammed'
anisra into a reasonable and ethical monotheism. They
insisted on the rightful conformity of faith to reason, on
human freedom, and on the righteousness as well aa. the
unity of God. They endeavoured, in fact, to substitute
for a God whose essence was absolute or arbitrary will a
God whose essence was justice. This meant, however, not
to develop or even reform, but to subvert and displace the
Mohammedan idea of God, and the wonder is, not that
they failed in so arduous a task, but that they had the
courage to undertake it. Mohammedan mysticism (Sufism)
was a reaction, chiefly of the Persian mind, against the
narrowness and harshnessof the monotheism of the Arabian
prophet. Unlike philosophy, it was not a mere exotic,
but an indigenous growth within the Mohammedan area,,
and hence orthodoxy has never been able to eradicate it.
It has been the chief support of spiritual feeling and tha
chief source of poetry in Mohammedan lands. It still
flourishes, has branches innumerable, and through its poets
has shed seed widely even over Christendom. The mystics
refuse to think of God as an rj'bitrary unlimited Will,
separate and apart from everything ; as one who reveals
Himself clearly only through the words of a prophet ; as
a being before whom man is mere dust and ashes, and who
demands no higher service than fear, unquestioning faith,
and outward obedience. In their view God is immanent
in all things, expresses Himself through all things, and is
the essence of every human soul. There is not only no
God but God, but no being, life, or spirit except the being,
life, and spirit of God; and every man may be God's
prophet, and more even than His prophet. For a man to
know God is to .see that God is immanent in himself, and
that he is one with God, the universal life which breathes
through all things. Such knowledge or vision must glorify
all nature, and must dilate and rejoice the heart of him
who possesses it. Joy and ecstacy must characterize the
worship of the Sufi. A religious scepticism based on
philosophical scepticism — disbelief in the existence of God
grounded on disbelief in any truth not guaranteed by
sense or mathematical demonstration— was not unknown
among the Saracens, although no work in defence of it has
come down to us, and perhaps none may have been written.
THEISM
•24?
In AlgMel^ philosophical scepticism was ' combined "with
religious dogmatism and mysticism. He subjected the
doctrines of the philosophers to a keen and hostile criticism,
;;nd maintained that reason was incompetent to reach the
knowledge of God, yet cherished an ardent and exalted
faith in God, based partly on the Koran and partly on
•■Fiystic contemplation and devout experience.'
■; Jewish and Mohammedan religious thought were inti-
mately connected in the Middle Age, and ran a nearly
parallel course. The Rabbanites and the Karaites of Juda-
ism corresponded to the orthodox and the Motazilites of
.Mohammedanism. In their theism there was no new
feature or peculiar significance. Jewish theosophic mysti-
cism found 'expression in the Kabbalah. The idea of God
there presented was at once excessively abstract and
excessively fanciful. It must be studied, however, in the
original source or in special Vorks. The Jewish philoso-
phers differed little from the Arabian philosophers in their
teaching regarding the evidences of the Divine existence,
the nature and consequences of the Divine unity, and the
meaning of the Divine attributes. At the same time, they,
with a few exceptions, affirmed the non-eternity of matter,
and did not, like the Arabian Aristotelians, represent pro-
vidence as merely general. They maintained strongly the
transcendence of God and the impossibility of the human
mind forming any positive conception of His essential being.
They held that He was known as necessarily existent, but
also as in Himself necessarily unknowable. Their view of
the unity of God led them to an idea of God which may
not unjustly be designated agnostic, and which prevented
their regardmg either nature or Scripture as a revelation
of what God really is. Almost alone among eminent Jew-
ish writers of the Middle Age, Jehuda Halevi contended
that the representation of God given in, the revelation to
Israel was self-evidencing, independent of the support of
philosophy, and unattainable in any speculative way. The
function of reason was, in his view, not to sit in judgment
on what had been delivered regarding God to the Jews,
:iut to repel the objections which philosophy hadibrought
igainst it, and to show the inadequacy of the^rcsults
reached by unaided human intelligence. Maimonidca
undertook to establish that reason and faith, science and
revelation, were at one in what they affirmed regarding
God, but in order to make out his thesis he sacrificed the
literal sense of Scripture whenever it did not accord with
the" tenets of his philoaophy, and substituted for the
representation of God given through Moses and the
prophets one very different in character. His idea of
God is highly abstract and metaphysical, — the idea of a
being so unlike every other being that no name or predicate
whatever when applied to Him can bear its ordinary,
or indeed any intelligible meaning. Existence, eternity,
unity, power, wisdom, justice, and other attributes, are
not in Him what they are in any other being or even
analogous in Him to what they are in any other being.-
' Sch-lhra-stiiui's GtschicJtU da- t*:! I'jiosen w. phihsophischcn Sccten
bei den Ara/jcin, Genu. Irani, by H.i:irhrucker, IS^iO-'il ; WuAeufM,
Lit Aktidem'c d<rr Ariih.:r u. i/i/t Lehrcr, 1837; Schinoldcrs Essai
tiiT Us £ci>liS Philnii:jili uiues chez Ics Araljes, 18j2; Miink, Mvlangns
<!■■ I'kilusophu: Jititx a y\rabt, lS5y; Sterner, V'c MultizUiCai wler
FrCidfaker in islam, 18G5, Kemitt, Avcrrnes et L' A vcrrutsmi\ l&fi'J,
5:c. Oil Eo-steni luy.sticism, see Tholnrk, Sii/siiius s. Thcosophuc
f^ersaruni Pit-jUhetsUcn, 1821, :in«l J)ful/tmsanim{iing aiis der 7norijcjj-
'.andiscken Miiilik, 1825. Cowell. "Persian Literature," in Ojc/nnl
&*»i/s lor 1855 ; Palmer, Oru-nOU Mysltctsm, 1867; Reilhoiiie, The
Mi!,furvi uf Jel'dti'd Dm, 1881 57. ; Vauglian, in Honrs vAtk the
Mi/stii:s, truati ol the UrienUl as well as Christian mystics. For
Persian mysticism in its latest Ibrms, sec De Culimeau, Jiiiiffiffns el
I'litlosofjhie dans I'Asie Cmtrttie, 1866. On Aljj.azel, see Gosche,
" I'ehei- Ghazzalis Li-hin u. Werke," in Abhand. (philul. -u. hist.)d. k.
Aht.'. d iV.s:,. :. /inhn, 1S5S
'■* Mtink, Effpna-if //tstonf/tfcde la Phdosopkic ckez fes Juifs, 1849;
Eibler, Voiiesujuj:!^ ub^r dit jutttschin PhUosnp/ien d'-^ Mittelaltfra^
Jiu Christian Europe the human mind tooK a fresh start n'cnats-"
at the epoch of the Renaissance. It revolted against the '°"|^'
authorities to which it had long been submissive, and P^'^""'
exercised private jtidgment with a confidence uncorrected
and unmoderated by experience. It turned with ardour
to the free discussion of the greatest theme of thought,
and probably at no period of history has there been more
individual diversity of opinion on that theme. sGod and
His relation to the universe were treated of from a multi-
tude of points of view. Scepticispi, naturalism, and pan-
theism appeared in various forms • all ancient systems of
thought as to the Supreme Being found advocates; all
modern theories as to the nature of the Divine were in
some measure anticipated. Did our limits permit it ■ivould
not be uninteresting to expound the speculations- (ionfce'rn-
ing Deity of several of the writers of the Renaissance, —
and especially, perhaiis, of these three — Nicolaus of Casa,'
Giordano Bruno, and Thomas Campanclla. The theo-
sophic mysticism of tlie period was a preparation for the
Reformation.-' '
The fusion of theology and philosophy was the distinc-
tive feature of niedi.-cval Cliristendom ; their separation
has been a marked characteristic of nioilern Christendom.
Even when both have been occupied with religious
inquiries and thoughts of God tlioy have kept apart ; tliey
have often co-operated, but seldom cdinniinglod. Theology
has been on the whole cleric, and comparatively conserva-
tive ; philo.sophy has been on the whole laic, and compara-
tively progressive. But for theology holding fast to wlial
liad been handed down as truth regarding God there must
have been littlccontinuity or consistency in the development
of religious convictions; but for philosnpliy rcUlcssly seek-
ing ever more light there would have been little growth or
increa.se of knowledge of the Divine.
The Reformer-; held that there was a knowlcdgoof God The
naturally planted in the human mind, and also derivable Refoi.ji*.
from observation of the constitution and government of i'""-
the world, but that 'this knowledge was so marred and
corrupted by ignorance and sin as to require to be con^
firmed and supplemented by the far clearer and fuller light;
of the special revelation in the Scriptures. They were'
deeply sensible of the evils which had arisen from the'
over-speculation of the schola.stic divines on the nature ol,
God, and were under the impression that it would have,
been well if men had been content to accejit the statements
of Scripture on the subject with simple and unhesitating
faith. Luther wished theology to begin at once with Jesus'
Christ. Melanchthon said, " There is no reason why we
should devote our.selves much to these most lofty subjects,
the doctrine of God, of the unity of God, of the Trinity ol
God"; and in the early editions of his Lwi Communis he
entered into no discu.ssion of these themes. Xwingli in his^
De Vera ct Falsa Jxili^ione and even Ciilvin in his /iislitiilio
Religionis Chriitinmv delineated the ihiitrutu <./•: DiV onlyi
in outline and general features. In the coides.sions of the
churches of the Reformation nothing which the ancient
church had oecumonically deturiiiined as res,'ards that,
doctrine was rejected, and nothing new was added thereto.
It soon became apparent, however, that the mind would
by no means confine its thoughts of Gud \iiihin the limits
which the Reformers believed to be alone Icuitimate and
safe. The idea of God is so central in religion that it
must affect and be affected by every change ol thought on
^ ^ ^^ 1
1870, 1870; Joel, D^drnrje :. Csili. d. Plutosopbu, 1S7G. On the
Kabbalah, see Fiaiick ami Giiislmr;; Kautniaiiti, iitsclncl'l> da Atlri^
biUmlchre m dcr jtidischai Jidigionsphiloso/'/iu' der MilUtidtCTS
1S77; FriccUaniler, Omdc of the Perplexed of Mtiimontdes, 3 vols.^
JSS5.
^ M. Carr\i.'re's, P/nlosophiscfic Weltunschuuuntj dcr Rcf(trmutiims2eit,
1887 ; Punjer'b neligumsphilosophie, i. 61-59, C9-75 ,76-80:^Bobha'«
Conoacenza di IJio, iii. 1-90.
244
^T H E I S M
'any religious theme. , Tlie~tnany and violent controversies
^within Protestantisfa all reacted on the doctrine relative
to Deity, causing it to be studied with intense energy, but
in a manner and spirit very unfavourable, on the whole, to
'truth and piety. Every new dispute elicited more abstruse
'conclusions and more subtle definitions. In the disputa-
tions of orthodox divines of the 17th and 18th centuries as
to the nature, the attributes, the decrees, and the operations
of God, we see scholasticism with all its peculiarities re-
introduced and often exaggerated. Yet Protestant theism
was in various respects an advance on that of the doctors
of mediaeval scholasticism. The protest of the Reformers
against the faults of the scholastic treatment regarding
God did not lose its pertinency or value because their own
followers fell into these very faults. If the subsequent
Kstory plainly showed tliat the doctrine could not have
been so fixedly and exhaustively determined by the ancient
church as the Reformers supposed, it also showed that
the scholastic treatment of the doctrine had been justly
condemned by them, and that speculation regarding God
when not rooted in spiritual experience must necessarily
be unfruitful. The scholasticism of Protestantism was in
esspntial contradiction to the genius and aim of Protestan-
tism. Then, in the ' Protestant doctrine of God more
prominence was given than had previously been done to
iHis manifestation in redemption, to the relation of His
'character towards sin, and, in particular, to the attribute
(of justice. The strong emphasis laid on the rishteousncss
jOf God marked a distinct ethical advance. At the same
.'time the idea of God in the older' Protestant theology was
far from ethically complete. His fatherhood was strangely
'ignored or most defectively apprehended. Absolute sove-
reignty had assigned to it the place which- should have
been' given to holy love, and was often conceived of in an
unethical manner. Further, whereas among mediaeval
theologians it was the rule and not the exception, among
Protestant divines it was the rare exception and not the
rule, to alfirm God to be unknowable. They asserted
merely His incomprehensibility and man's limited know-
ledge of His perfections. They did not in general, how-
evcB, abandon, at least explicitly, the premiss from which
mediaival theologians inferredthe Divine incognoscibility,
namely, that the absolute simplicity of the Divine essence
;was incompatiblewith the existence of distinctions there-
'in.i _ ^ _ _ _
Aoti- . Difference of opinion as to the relation of reason to
trmitari-^ .Scripture was in the Protestant world one of the chief
•mam, causes of diffefence of belief as to God. Assaults on
trinitarianisra' were contemporary with the Reformation,
and they proceeded more on the conviction that the
doctrine of the Trinity was unreasonable thati that it was
junscriptural. The founder of Socinianism, indeed, not
only fully accepted the authority of Scripture, 'but went
so far as to represent it as the source -of all religious truth,
leven of the primary truths of natural religion ; yet, while
(lie thus apparently and in theory attributed the knowledge
f)f God more to Scripture and less to reason than did
Luther or Calvin, really and in ]>ractice he did just the
Ireverse, because he conceived quite otherwise of the con-
'nexion between Scripture and reason. 'While he held
[Scripture to be the source of religious truth, he also held
rea.son to be so the organ of religious truth that nothing
contrary to reason could be accepted on the authority of
Scripture, and that only those declarations of .§cripture
'could be deemed to be interpreted aright which were inter-
preted in accordance with the axioms of reason.. Luther,
on the other hand, proclaimed 'aloud. Strangle reason like
' Civ, (iaclt ft. jfTot. f)o^m.^\.\ Heppe, Doym. d. deutich. Protcs-
tnnlismusim WUnJnltrh.^ i. ; Frank, Cesch.^. prot. Tkeol., L ; Domer,
llifl.nl Vral yA.. II. , and MuUer, In tfoisfeer «in CaiOT;n,1883.
a dangerous beast if it dare to question Scripture; jin'd.
Calvin, although he did not speak, so harshly, demandet*
the unqualified submission of reason to the authority cl
Scripture. Antitrinitarianism has maintained its ground
throughout the Protestant area, has assumed a variety of
forms, and has exerted a powerful influence. It has been
unable, it is often said, to do more than .revive the %
doctrines which distracted the ancient church and were
condemned by it as heresies. And this must be so far!
admitted. The doctrine of the Trinity comprehends only,
a few propositions, and every departure from it mustj
involve a rejection of one or more of these, and must,]
consequently, belong to some one of a very few possible
types or classes of belief. But essentially the statement is
superficial and unjust. For the ways in which, and the
grounds on which, both the affirmations of which the
doctrine consist-s and the negaiionsof these have been main-
tained have not been the same. Alike the defences and the
attacks have in the later era implied a deeper consciousness
of the nature of the problems in dispute.thart those of earlier
times. As'of history in general, so of the history of. the
doctrine of God, it holds good that no present has been the
mere reproduction of any past. The rationalistic process Dcifiri.
was carried farther in English deism and its Continental
developments. Deism sought to found religion on reason
alone. It represents "nature" as the sole and sufficient
revelation of God. There is no warrant for the view that
the deists held nature to be independent of God, self-
conservative and self-operative, — or, in other words, God
to be withdrawn from nature, merely looking on and
"seeing it go." They believed that God acted through
natural laws, and that it was doubtful if H« ever acted
otherwise than through these. ' Whatever was taught
about. God in Christianity and other' positive religion.s
beyond' what reason could infer from 'nature ought, ir.
their opinion, to be rejected as fiction and superstition.'
All ; their zeal was negative, — against " superstition^'
What was positive in their own doctrine had but a feeble
hold on them. God was little more to them than a
logical inference from the general constitution of the
world. They lacked perception of tha presence of God,
not only in the Bible, but in all human We and history.^
Modem philosophy, from its rise to the close of the 18th Modero
century, showed a double -development, the one ideal and pl"'o-;'
the other empirical, the Cartesian and the Baconian. The ^°P ?'
former was the more essentially religious. Descartes en-
deavoured to found philosophy en an indubitable refuta-
tion of absolute scepticism. Such a refutation he believed
himself to have effected when he had argued that thought,
even in the form of doubt, necessarily implies the exist-
ence of him who thinks ; that the implication yields a
universal criterion of certainty ; and that the presence of
the idea of God in a man's mind, the consciousness of the
mind's imperfection, and especially the character of the
mind's concept of God as that of the most real being con-
taining every perfection, demonstratively establish that
God is and is what He is thought to be. God is and is
true ; therefore man has not been made to err, and what-,
ever he clearly and distinctly sees as true must be true.
In the opinion of Descartes, the idea of God is inherent
in reason, ig the seal of all certainty, and the corner-stone
of all true philosophy. To the whole Cartesian school
theology was the foundation of all science. To Spiwoza,
' Besides the works of Gass, Frank, and Donier alrelidy mentioned,
see the histories of deism by Ltlaod, Lechler, and S.iyo»s ; of
rfttionalism by Staudlin, Tlioluck. Hagenb,ich, and Hurst; Noack'a
Frnitriker^ 3 vols., 1868-65; Farrar's Cril. Hist, of Free Tlimghl,
1S63; Hunt's Rel. ThtnigU m Engtard, 3 vols., 1870-73; Leslie
Stephen's Engl. Thought tn £A* Ei'ihlfmth Cent., 2 vols., 1883,
Calniss Unbdit/ in the r.'gUeenOi Cent . 1881; Beard's Hib. Lect.-
1883; and the 2d vol, of Oilletl's Oodtn Human Tlunight, 1874./
THEISM
245
who most fully developed some of the distinctive principles
of Descartes, it was identical with all science, for to him
God was the only substance," and all things else were
only His attributes or modes. Besides the pantheism of
Spinoza, the occasionalism of Guelinx, Malebrancha's vision
of things in God, Leibnitz's pre^tablished harmony and
optimism, and Wolf's rationalism were natural, if not
necessarj', outgrowths from the same root, — Cartesian
theism. Perhaps, of all the many serWces to the cause
of theism with which Cartesianism must -be credited the
greatest was that it constantly gave prominence to the
absolute perfection of God.' Baconian or empirical philo-
sophy was content if, by the ways of causality and design.
It could rise to an apprehension of a First Cause and Su-
preme Intelligence. It tended of itself to a phenomenal-
ism, senaationism, associationism, unfavourable to theism.
It was, however, counteracted, restrained, and modified by
Cartesianism and Platonism, and it naturally allied itself
with positive science. The massive defence of theism
erected by the Cambridge school of philosophy against
atheism, fatalism, and the denial of moral distinctions was
avowedly built on a Platonic foundation. The popularity
during the 18th centiry of the design argument, and what
was called physico-theology, was largely due to the impres-
sion made on the general mind by the brilliant discoveries
of the founders of modern astronomy, chemistry, and other
physical sciences. Bishop Berkeley showed how an em-
pirical philosophy might be logically evolved into a theistic
immaterialism, Hume how it might be logically dissolved
into an agnostic nihilism.
Mpti- In the 16th, 17th, and 1 8th centuries mystici:;m had
cisn. many representatives, several of whom, as, e.g., .S'/eigel,
Ottingen, Swedenborg, and especially Jacob Boehcie, are
entitled to a considerable place in any detailed history of
theism. To the eyes of Boehme God revealed Himself
from without and within in theonost real and intimate
manner. In the powers, antagonisms, and conjunctions
of creation he saw the energies, struggles, and victories of
the creative Spirit itself ; in the constitution and opera-
tions of physical and human nature, the essential constitu-
tion and necessary processes of the Divine nature. His
thoughts of God were in striking contrast to those of the
deists and natural theologians of the 17th and 18th cen-
turies, and strikingly anticipated those of ^ Schelling;
Hegel, and Baader in the 1 9th century. Could Sweden-
berg's doctrine of correspondences be verified, our means
of insight into the character of God would be largely
extended.
Nine. The 19th century is sufficiently far a'dvanced to allow
teenth ug {g ggg that a new epoch even in the history of theism
teatary. fjegan near its commencement. The revolution in philo-
sophy initiated by Kant ha* profoundly affected theistic
thought. It has introduced that tj^ie of agnosticism
which is what is most original and distinctive in the
antitheism of the present age, and ait the same time stimu-
lated reason to undertake bolder inquiries as to the Divine
than those which Kant prohibited. The enlarged and
deepened -views of the universe attained through the dis-
coveries of recent physical science have rendered incredible
the idea Of a God remote from the world, irresistible the
' Siisset, in the fiist part of his Modem Pantheism has some-
what elaborate studies on (]) the theism of Descartes, (2) God in
the system of Malebraoche, (3) the pantheism of Spinoz-i, and (4) the
theism of Liiibnitz. Huber (1854) and Elvenich (1.865) have wriren
special treatises on the Cartesian proofs of the Divine existence.
Among the most tborongji studies of Spinoza are those of Cametar,
Pollock, and Martineau. Herder, Voigtlander, and others have
maintained that he was a thcist, not a pantlieist. On the Thiod.cie
of Leibnitz there are three excellent papers by Prof. Torrey in ■ he
Andmtr Fn. for October, November, and December 1885. The best
general history of philosophy is Kuno Fischer's ; the best histor} of
Cartesianism F. Bouillier's.
conviction that the eternal source of things must be
immanent in their constitution, changes, and laws. Tlie
rapid growth oi" biology and the spread of the doctrine of
evolution have not'only tended in the same direction, but
given a new aid nobler concej tion of the teleology of the
universe, and, consequently, of God as the supreme in-
telligence. History — which the natural theologians of the
18th century' so strangely ignored, which the solitary
Italian thinker 'Vico alone recognized with clearness and
comprehensiveness of vision to be necessarily the chief
scene of the self-revelation of God — began with Lessing
and Herder to ^ generally seen in its true religious light.
The comparative or historical method of study has created
two disciplines ot sciences, comparative theology and
Biblical theology fi-which are both largely occupied with
tracing the develojiment of the idea of God. \The ethical
spirit of the age has so told on its religious teaching that to
no generation save that to which the gospel was originally
given has the Divine fatherhood been so distinctly set
forth as to the present. Dogmatic theology, especially in
Germany, has been earnestly active ; and its chief rep e-
sentatives have laboured so to amend and advance tie
doctrine concerning God that it may satisfy the new
requirements which have arisen.
It is now necessary briefly to indicate the present stAteof thoaght Present
on the chief points and problems of theism, state of
As to the origin, then, of our actual idea of God, that, it is seen, tliought.
can only be the whole religious history of man which precedes it, Origin c1
and the whole religious nature of man which underlies that history, idea of
It is absurd to refer exclusively to any faculty, intuition, or feeling, God
any revelation or instruction, any person or event, what can bo
traced in growth and formation through thousands of years, and
can be shoft-n by facts and documents to have been influenced by
all the chief causes which have made history what it is. The
history of the idea of God is the centre of all history, both explained
by and explaining it; and our nineteenth-century idea of God is
the result of the entire ^historico-psychologicaj process which has
produced the culture and religion of the 19th century. The idea
of God is what it now is because God's whole guidance of man and
man's whole search for God, the whole economy and evolution of
things and the whole constitution and development of thought and
feeling, have been what they have been from the beginning of
history to the present time. Anthropology, comparative psycho-^
logy, the science of language, comparative theology, _Biblic.il theo-
logy, the history of philosophy*, and the history of Ciiris'tian'
doctrine, have all been engaged in attempting to discover the,
fetors and stages of the vast iind complex process which haij
resulted in the" accepted idea of God ; and, by their separate and
conjunct endeavours, they have siicceeded in casting great light on
all parts of the process.
As to the absolute histoncal oripn of theism — as to where, when,"
and how the theistic conception of the Divine first obtained recog-
nition among men — a definitive answer has not yet been reached.!
Btrt the labour'expended on the problem has not been wasted. It
has made clearer the nature of the inquiry, rendered apparent the,
unsatisfactoriness of previous solutions, opened up glimpses of divers
ways by which men have been led to belief in the unity of God,
and accumulated means and materials for future and probably mora
successful work.
The question as to the psychological oripn of theism cannot be
'wholly separated from that as to its 1 Istorical origin. Unless
theism can be shown to be the prinitive fjrm of rebgion, it cannot
be held to have had an entirely pe uliar and distinct psychological
' origin, but must be viewed as simply a phase or development of
religion. It cannot be said that hero is as yet agreement as to
the psychological origin, or as to 'the psychological constitution
even, of religion. The hypothesis of a simple impartation of the
knowledge of God and spiritual tfiings through primitive revelation,
or through instruction and tradition which go back to the first
appearance of man on earth, still retains ahold on certain conser|
vative minds, but has received no confirmation from modern science
and discovery, and is plainly of its very nature inadequate. A
revelation relative to God iri words or signs could have no meaning
to a mind devoid of thoughts of God , spiritual instruction is only
possible where there are spiritual powers to understand and profit
by it ; tradition will carry nothing far to which intelligence is in-
difl"erent. There have been many attempts made during the present
century to refer the origin of belief in God to some emotional
source, some element or state of sensitivity. Thus Strauss has re-
affirmed the hypothesis of Epicurus, Lucretius, and Hume, that
fear mads the godi; Feuerbach has resolved religioi into desire.
24fi
THEISM
God bcin(? "conceived to be wliat'iiian would wish himself to be;
Sclilcicimnclicr has ai-f^ucd that a fr .-ling of absolute dependence,
of pure uiiJ coiiiplito passiv»;iiess, is our evidence for tlio presence
of an inrinite euuipy, aa inGnite being; Mansel has represented
the fcoling rf dcpeudcjico and the conviction of moral obligation as
thosoiucesof the reli^jious consciousness; Pfleiderer represents reli-
gion a"; a response to the sense of conflict and contradiction between
man's feelings of dependence and of freedom ; RauwenholT traces
its origin to respect {Achtung), the root also of moral conduct and
of family life; others have referred it to specific ethical feelings;
and many have represented it to be essentially love. The nuinber
of tliesc attempts and the diversity of these results are explained
by the complexity of religious feeling. In religion all the feelings
which raise man above the merely animal condition are involved.
,Man is not religious by any one feeling or by a few feelings, but
by the whole constitution of his emotional nature. His heart,
with nil its wealth of feelings, has been made for God.. Hence all
the theories referred to have easily been shown to be one-sided,
nnd to have exaggerated the significance and influence in religion
of particular emotional elements, but hence also they all contain
ra.ove or less important portions of the truth, and have all contri-
buted towards a knowledge of the full truth. Man is not only,
however, disposed by all his-ohief sentiments for religion, but all
these sentiments, when normally and healthfully developed, tend
towards theism." It is only in a theistic form of religion that they
can find truo rest and satisfaction. " One God can alone be the
object of the highest devotional fear, can alone be regarded as
idcnlly peifcct, or as a being on whom the worsliipper is absolutely
dependent, can alone be loved with the whole heart and esteemed
wiib iindiviiled reverence, can alone he recognized as the sole author
of the moral law, the alone good. The theories which trace the
oii'^m of religion to feeling bave the merit of recognizing that
religion is not an affair of mere intellect; that the Divine could
not even be known by men if they had not feeling<i and affections
aa well as intellectnal powers; that, if God be love, for example,
He caa only bo knoivn by love ; that, if He have moral attributes,
we must have moral feelings in order to be able to recognize them.
On the other hand, in so far as those theories represent religion as
reducilile to mere feeling or as independent of intellect, they have
tlic fault of overlooking that all the feelings included in religion
presuppose apprehensions and judgments, nnd are valid only in so
iar as they have the warrant of intelligence. It is as much an
ciror, however, to account for religion by any one intellectual
principle as by any one emotional element. Religion has no one
s^KJci il beat, such as " tlie central point of unity behind conscious-
ness," imagined by Scblciermacher; no ^'special organ,'* such as
/'conscirnco ■' was supposed to be by Schenkel ; and no one special
principle of cognition, such aa the law of causality has been rcpre-
scntetl to bo by several philosophers and theologians. All the
nUimate principles of cognition are involved in religion, and all
jead, if consistently followed far enough, to theism. The whole
head as well as the w-holc heart has been made for religion, and for
the perfect form of religion. Max MiiUer, in his Hibbert Lectures,
traces the idea of God to a special faculty of religion — "a subjective
faculty for the apprehension of the infinite," ''a mental faculty,
which, independent of, nay, in spite of, sense and reason, enables
man to api>rchcnd the infinite under dilfcrcnt nami^s lod under
.varying disguises." This view will not hear, perhaps, a close
scrutiny. Tlie infinite, as an implicit condition of thought, is not
Wore involved 'in religious than in other thought. We cannot
,think anything as finite without implying the infinite. Space
cannot bo thought of except as extensively, nor time except as ji7ro-
tcnsivchj, infinite.^ As a condition of thought, the infinite is in-
volved in religious knowledge only so far as it is involved in all
I knowledge. On the other hand, as an explicit object of thought,
•it is not present in the lower forms of religion at all, which exist
only because the thought of infinity is not associated in the religious
consciousness with that of Deity, except where reflexion is some-
what highly developed; and, even in the highest stages of religion,
it is only apprehended as one aspect of Deity. Infinity is not God,
but merely an attribute of the attributes of God, and not even an
exclusively Divine attiibute. - The hypothesis that the idea of God
is gained by intuition or vision is proved to he erroneous by the
f.ait that the idea of God, and the process by which it is reached,
are capable of being analysed, and therefore not simple, and like-
wise by the variety and 'lisrovdance of the ideas of God which have
hern .actually formed. The apjirehensibn of God seems to bo only
pussihlu through a process which involves all that is essential in
the human coMstitution— uill. affection, intelligence, conscience,
reason, — and the ideas which lhr>y supply — cause, design, goodness,
infinity, i;a These are so conmcted that they may all be enibiaet-d
in a single .act and eonlcsee in one grantl issue. During the last
thirty years there has been more ))sychological investigation as to
the origin and nature of religion than during all previous history,
and tlie wliole tendency of it has been to .sot aside all solutions
which represent man as religious only in virtuu of ^larticular senti-
ments or principles, and to ninke manifest tliRt'th« psychology of
religion is that of the entire human nature in a special relationship.
The best of the later investigations are much more thorough and
comprehensive thau any of earlier date.'
The agnosticism originated by Kant has been one of the distinc- Kantiut
tivc and prominent phenomena in the history of religion and theism agnosti,
during the L9th century. It sprang out of an earlier agnosticism, cisro
Hume and his predecessors admitted that the conditions of thought
— otherwise, the categories of experience or ideas of reason — were
in appearance necessary and objectively valid, but in reality only
arbitrary and subjective, their seeming necessity and objectivity
being illusory, and consequent on mere repetitions and accidental
associations of sensations and feelings. Kant showed that they
were not only seemingly but really necessary to thought, and
irresolvable into the particular in experience. . He denied, liowever,
that we are entitled to consider them as of more than subjecti\'e
appficability, — that what wo necessarily think must necessarily be,
or be as we think it. Ho aflfirined all knowledge to be conlincti .
to experience, the phenomenal, the conditioned. It was quite in
accordance with this view of the limits of knowledge that he should
have denied that we can know God, even while he affirmed that
we cannot but think of God. It was by no means in obvious
harmony with it that he should ha^e afBr-mcd that we must, on
moral grounds, retain a certain belief in God. Sir \V. Hamilton
and Dean Mansel followed Kant in holding that we can have no
knowledge of God in Himself, as knowledge is only of the relative
and phcnomenaL They strove to show that the notions of the
unconditioned, the infinite, the absolute, are mere negations of
thought, which destroy themselves by their mutual contradictions
and by the absurdities which they involve. ^ Yet both of these
philosophers held that there is a revelation of God in Scri[)tQre
and conscience, and that we are bound to believe jt, not indeed as
teaching us what God really is, but what He wishes us to believe
concerning Him. HerbSrt Spencer, adopting Kant's theory of
the limits of knowledge, and regarding as decisive Hamilton and
Mansel's polemic against the philosophies of the Absolute, has
concluded that the only truth underlying professed revcbtioTTS,
positive religions, and so-called theological sciences is the existence
of an unknowable and unthinkable cause of all things. In the
view of the Positivist the unknowable itself is a metaphysical
fiction, "^he Kantian doctrine has bad a still more extensive
influence in Germany than in Britain, and Germnn philosophers
and theologians have displnyed great ingenuity in their endeavours
to combine with it some sort of recognition of God and of religion.
Fries, De Welte, and others have relegated religion to the sphere
of faith, Schleiermachcr and his followers to that of feeling, Ritschl
and his school to that of ethical wants, F- A. Lange to that of
imagination, &c. Their common aim lias been to find for piety
towards God a special place which they can fence ofl" from the rest
of human nature, so as to be able to claim for religion independence
of reason, speculation, and science, a right to existence even
although necessarily ignorant of the object of its faith, feeliug,
moral sense, or phantasy.^
The movement indicated has led to no direct conclusion which
has obtained, or is likely to obtain, general assent. ^ It has had.
however, a very important indirect result. It has shown how
, interested in, and dependent on, a true criticism or science of
cognition are theism and theology. It has made increasingly
manifest the immense significance to religion of the problem as to
the powers and limits of thought which Kant stated and discussed
with so much vigour and originality. Hence research into what
the Germans call "die erkenntnisstheoretischen Gruudsati;e" — the
philosophical bases-=-uf theism has been greatly stimulated and
advanced by the movement. This is an enormous gain, which
more than compensates for sundry incidental losses. Kant's solu-
tion of the problem which he placed in the foreground of philosophy
has not been found to be one in which the mind con rest. Fiom'
his agnosticism down to the very empiricism tvhich it was his aim!
to refute descent is logically inevitable. The agnosticism of piety'
has in no form been able to discover a halting idace,— a spot on
1 Amonff recent disquisitions u to the psycholopicfll oi1i;m of the reliRious
consciousness and the conception ol God may bo specified— I'flcidcn-r's m Inst
ed. o( liis lielt-jwttxpfnlosnphif, Biodennann » In lust ed of his Dnymarii; W
Herninnn"s in Ins Dm lifligion im VerhdUntsi zum Welterkni'mi vndztir Sittti-h'
kHC, 1S79; Kaflun's in his Dni Wrsm der chr. Religion, I^Sl . Ltpsius's in his
Philosophic vnJ Religion, 18S5i and Kauwcnhoff's in his "Ontstaun van den
GodsUii-nst," Theoi. Tijd^rhr., May It-fiS.
• AmonR wniks in \*liich it is denied that the rcnl nature of God c.in be
known .ire— Kanis/iV d.r. K : Ficlitc's A'r aller Of.nbmuno . Schlclcfmacher'a
Rcdf-n, Dialekltk, and (7/rtM6f«.<'fArf ; Trendolciiburfi's Le"7 Vutcr^vrhungni. Il
§5 xx,-.^xiv.; Hamilton's f.ect. on Met., and DtHUistom ; M.-insil's DmufUii Lixt.^
an\X Philosophy of ihv Coudilioned, II Spencer's /"I'S' ArHrj/./. .. .md iIr- wiiring^
of Lance. Itil^rh). .nml other N\o-Ktmrist«. Amonc works iii "hlvli T^c real cob-
noscil'ihty of Oofl jt iiftirnicd nr*-— C-ildfrwood's I'h of the /tifinttr: C. Hodpe't
^^(/>. Tl,.,i.: MC(>xli>;/-f. '-fthe Mf"d, J'hil Scnr^. Ac; H H- Smitli's /'Ur. to
r'l Th and t'oilh ,vt /•hihso].i,u- M. mi ire's M'l-it is Rfvclnlifi t ; Youuc's
J'roviiirf o/ RfiJson. and H.'\iTiy« J'lul Umrr. of r'»i,«w. Scp tiUo L. Robert,
Dc la Cn-tnud^ .tp.lSSO; 011c-Lapruiie.Z/«/i C(;(n(«.f.'.l/.<''nV,lSSO: 0 Drrcpns
L/^s T'uoru-n <fc VJnrowmiiinblc. i^^3 ; G Matheson, in Cm the Old I'auh l.ict
\nth the S'lr t 15S5 ; H. T. Stnllh, AInn'i huovl^dge .-/ Mnn and of Gvd. 163C \
Schi-amm. Dif Ertennttarkeit GoUet, 1676 ; nnd Bertling. Di* Frkfttnbarkeit Qottff^i
1»?V
THEISM
247
-vhkb t»raise zheiim or any solid religious oosstmction. In no
form hu it been able t^^profe its legitimacy, to maintain its eelf-
cjnsistency, or to defend itself successfully against the agnosticism
oftiabeUef. It is, therefore, not surprising that it should have
bean very, generally regarded as .dangerous to theism in reality,
even whet friendly to it in intention. Yet there is much in the
theory of cognition on which it proceeds which the th^st can
utilize. Indeed, no theory of cognition can kiford a satisfactory
basis to theism which does not largely adopt and assimilate that of
Kant. He has conclusively shown that all our knowledge is a
synthesis of contingent impressions and necessary conditions ; that
without the latter there can be neither sense, understanding, nor
reason ; that they constitute intelligence, and arc the light of
mind ;. that they also pervade the whole world of experience and
illuminate it ; that there is neither thing nor thought in the nni-
▼eree which does nor- exhibit them in some of their aspects ; that
■part from them there can be no reality, no truth, no science.
The agnostic corollaries appended to this theory by Kant and
others, instead of being necessary consequences, from it, are incon-
sistent with it. Kant and the agnostics say that we know only
the conditioned; but what they prove is that we know also the
conditions of thought; and that these conditions' are' themselves
onconditioned, otherwise they would not be necessary. They affirm
that we can know only the phenome'nai and relative., but wiiat they
establish is that it is as impossible to know only the relative and
phenomenal as to know only the absolute and noumenal, and that
in so far as we know at all we know through ideas which are
absolute and noumenal in the only intelligible, and in a very real
and important, sense. They maintain, what is very true, if not a
tmism, that the categories are only valid for experience, and they
imply that this is because experience limits and defines the cate-
gories, whereas, according to their own theory, it is the categories
which condition experience and enter as constituents into all
experience, so that to say that the categories are only valid for
experience means very little, experience merely existing so far as
the categories enable us to have it, and hsing valid so far as the
categories are legitimately applied, althon^h not farther, which
leaves no more presomftion against religious eiperienj;e than
against sensible experience. They have denied the objective' validity
of the categories or necessary conditions of thought. This denial
is the distinctive feature of all modem agnosticism ; and the theist
who would vindicate the reality of his knowledge of God, the legi-
timacy of his belief in God. the worth of his religious experience,
must refiite the reasonings by which it hsa been supported; show
that fionsciousness testifies against it, the subjectivity of any ti-ue
category being unthinkable and inconceivable; and indicate how
its adnussion must subvert not only the foundation of theolegy but
of all other sciences, and resolve them all into castlcs in the air,
or into such stuff as dreams are ^adeof In the accomplishment
of this task as much guidance and aid may bo found, perhaps, in
the theories of cognition of Ferrier and Rosmini as £rom those of
»ny of the Germans ; but Hegel and his followers, not a few of the
Herbartists, Ulrici, Harms, and many other German thinkers,
have contributed to show the falsity of the critical theory at this
point. Amended here, it is a theory admirably fitted to be the
comer-stone of a philosophical theism.
Philo- Uore may be attempted to be done in the re^on of the necessary
s ?[iby of and unconditioned. The conditions of thought, the categories of
th3 Ab- experience, the ideas of reason are all linked together, so that each
colute. tas its' own place and is part of a whola And of what whole f
The idea of God. All the metaphysical categories are included
therein, for God is the Absolute Being ; all the physical categories,
for He is Absolute Force and Life ; all the mental categories, for
Ha is Absolute Spirit ; all the moral categories, for He is the
Absolutely Good. The idea of God is the richest, the most
inclusive, the most comprehensive, of all ideas. It is the idea of
ideas, for it takes up all other ideas into. itself and gives them
unity, so that they constitute a system. The whole system issues
into, and is rendered organic by, the idea of God, which, indeed,
contains within itself aU the ideas which are the conditions of
homan reason and the grounds of known existence. All sciences,
and even all phases and varieties of human experience, are only
developments of some of the ideas included in this supreme and
•Il-compreh*nsIve idea, and the developments have in no instance
exhausted the ideas. Hence in the idea of God must be the whole
truth of the universe as well as of the mind. These sentences are
an attempt to express in the briefest intelligible form what it was
the aim of the so-called philosophy bf the Absolute to prove to be
not only true, bnt tfu trutK'^ He^el ^nd Schelling, Krause and
Baader, and their associates, all felt themselves to have the one
Iniasion in life of making manifest that God was thus the truth,
the light of all knowledge, self-revealing in all science, the sole
object -of all philosophy. The Absolute with which they occupied
themselves so earnestly was no abstraction, no fiction, such as
Hamilton and Mahsel supposed it to be, — not the wholly indeter-
minate; not that which is out of all relation to everything or to
•northing, not the Vakaov^ble, — bat the ground of all relationship.
the foundation ali?"e of exijit^nce and of thought, that which it ia
not only not impossible to k&ow;^ bnt which it is impossible not to
know, the knowledge of it being implied in all knowledge. Hegel
expressed not only his own conviction, but the central and vital
thought of the whole anti-agnostic movement which culminated ia
him when he wrote, "Th« object of reUgir i is, like that of philo-
sophy, the etemal truth Itself.in its objective existence : it is Go<?,
and nothing but God, and the explanarion o[ God. Philosophy U
not a f isdom of the world, but a knowledge of the unworldly ; not
a knowledge of outward matter, of empirical being and life, bus
knowledge of that which is eternal, of thai which is God and which
flows from His nature, as that must manifest and develop itself.
Hence philosophy in explaining religion explains itself, and in
explaining itself -explains religion. Philosophy and religion thuj
coincide in that they have one and the same object." The
adherents of the philosophy ci the Absolute must be admitted to
have fallen, in their revulsion from sgnostici.*?m, into many extra-
vagances of gnosticism ; but a theist who does not syropathiza
with their main aim, and even accepts most of the results as to
which they are agreed, cannot be credited with having much
philosophical insight into what a thorough and consistent theism
implies. A God who is not the Absolute as they understood the
term, not the Cnconditioned revealed in all that is conditioned,
and the essential content of all knowledge at its highest, cannot
be the God either of a profound philosophy or a fully-developed
religion. The philosophy of the Absolute waa, on the whole, a
great advance towards a philosophical theism.'
And yet it was largely pantheistic, and tended strongly towsrda
pantheism. This was not surprising. Any philosophy which is
in thorough earnest to show that God is the ground of all eiistenca
and the condition of all knowledge must find it difficult to letaia
a firm grasp of the personali'ty and transcendence of the Divine
and to set them forth with due prominence. Certainly some of
the most influential representatives of the philosophy of the
Absolute ignored or misrepresented them. The consequence was,
however, that a band of thinkers soon appeared who were animated
with the mo.st zealous desire to do justice to these aspects of the
Absolute, and to make evident the one-sided^ss and inadequacy
of every pantheistic conception of-the Divine. This was the
common aim of those who gathered around the younger Fichte,
and whose literary organ was the Zeilschrift fir FhilosophU.
Chalybaus, K. Ph. Fischer, Sengler, Weisse, Wirth, and Ulrici
may be named as among the ablest and most active. The Komaa
Catholic Gunther and his followers worked in much the sama
spirit. Lotze has effectively co-operated by his ingenious defence
of the thesis that " perfect personality is to be found only in God,
while in all finite spirits there exists only a weak imitation of
personality ; the finiteness of the finite is not a productive condi-
tion of personality, but rather a limiting barrier to its perfect
development." This movement also, then, has tended to develop
and contributed to enrich the theory of theism. Its special mis-
sion has been to prove that theism is wider than pantheism, and
can include all the trath in pantheism, while pantheism mUst
necessarily exclude truth in theism essential to the vitality end
vigour both of religion and of morality.'
The philosophy of the Absolute, judged of from a distinctly
theistic point of view, was defective on another side. It regarded
too exclusively the necessary and formal in thought, trusted almost
entirely to its insight into the significance of the categories end its
powers of rational deduction. Hence the idea of the Divine which
it attained, if vast and comprehensive, was also vagie and abstract,
shadowy and unimpressive. Correction was needed on this side
also, and it came through Schleiermacher and that large comp-iay
of theologians, among whom Lipeins and Ritschl are at present
the most prominent, who have dwelt on the importani^e of proceed-
tng from immediate personal experience, from the direct testimony
of pious feeling, from the practical needs of the moral life, ke.
From these theologians may be learned that God is to be known,
not through mere intellectual cognition, but through spiritual
experience, and that no dicta as to the Divine not verifiahl? ia
experience, not enicacious to sustain piety and to promote virtue,
to elevate and purify the heart, to invigorate the will, to ennoble
' On the doctrine of Cod propoanded by tbe philosophers of the Absolcta raey
be consaited tiie histories of philoaophy by Chfli>t)a:ia, Micfcelcf, Erdniana,
Debenreg, K, Fischer, Harms. ZcDer, Ac. felio F-injer. 11. bks 3 end 6 ; t.-.9
chapters in Pfieiderer on SchcULnp. He^l, Neo-Scheliingiantsm, and Keo-
Begelianism ; Dorr.et's ai«. o//'to(. Vt.. ii- 2^37,39-5; LicblemtxJgef s ^lU. in
tdees Rtti^tusa at AUema^m, iicpaisim; Ehrenliaas's Ee^» Qtia'jiytgrijr*
.tc : Franz on Schelhntr'a foiuire Philctophii ; Opzoomer's Leer ran Gixt, bif
Kranse-, K. Ph. Fischer's CJxaraaeTis:U: dsr Thnsophit Saadfri ; Ac
* See art. "Theisnms," by L'lrlcl, in Heraog's lUal-Encyklopadis, XT. At
representlnz this phase of theism the following works may l>e named ;— C. H.
Weisses like ier Gotthint, 1844, and PhUoiophiKhe Dogmaiit, 1S55 ; W!r;h'«
Sf«Tj(<uir£ Ilia Goaa, 184J ; Sengler's Ida OMits. 1*45-47 ; J. H. Fld.te'«
SpMulaiiee TheologU, 1846-47 ; Hnnne's Idee difr aiw}lu:ai Perioniu.\ifit, IHT J
ruicis &SI «. dU Xatur. 1875 ; and Lotze's ificronimM, U. li. 4-5 (Engr. Ii ).
The school la trell represented in America by Prof. Bowne. See his Sivd^^ -A
Thiiijn, especially ch. 7-S. See also alt. of Prof. 1. S. Candlish on " .^
PeraiinalltT cf God," in Prinictcr. Rfr., Sept. 18&4, and of Galdinel oa "Lous'!
Theiatic p'hUMC^hy," In Pretlt. Bet., Oct. tSSS.
'248
T B E I S M
TheUtic
"proofs.'
the'cbaiacteirto sanctify both"indivi<luals"and communities, are
likely to be true. Experience of the Divine can be the richest aiiU
surest expe.ii-nce only if it not merely implies all that is absolute
and necessary iu consciousness aiui existence, but is also conhnnea
and .'nar.mtcca bv all that is relative and contingent therein.
What are known as " tlie pioo.'s" for the Divine existence have
fro.n the time of Kant to the present been often represented as
sophistical or useless. This view is, however, loss prevalent th.iii
it was Duuug the last twenty years the proofs have been ni mucli
'creator repute, and have had far more labour expended on them,
than during the previous pa.t of the century. They h.avc, of
course, been considerably modified, in conformity with the general
crowth of thought and knowledge. For instance, they arc no longer
r.rcscutcd elaborately analysed into series or groups of syllogisms.
it is recogni«d that the fetters which would assuredly J""'' Iho
pro-. OSS of physical and mental science cannot be favourable to that
of theology it is iccognized that the yalulity of the proofs must bo
entirely .rependcnt on the truthfulness with which they indicate the
modes m wluoh God reveals Himself, the facts through which man
,ippiehends the presence and attributes of God and that, thereloro,
the more simply they are stated the better. Man knows God some-
what as he knows the minds ol his fellow.nieu-namely, inferen-
tially -yet througli an experience at once so simple and so maiiilold
that all attempts at a syllogistic representation ol tlie process must
necessarily do it injustice. The closeness and character of the con-
nexion of the proofs have also come to be more clearly seen. 1 hey
are perceived to constitute an organic whole of argument, each u(
which e^lnhliO.cs Its separate element, and thus contributes to the
ceneial .esult-conlirinatory evidence that God is, and complemcu-
tarv cvideuoe as to uihat God is. The explanation of this doubtless
' is that llio ainireheusion of God is itself an organic whole, a complex
and harmonious proces.s, involving all that is essential lu the Imnian
mind yet all the constituents of winch are so connected that they
may be embraced in a single act and coalesce into one grand issue.
Ti, ,„,„ The cosmological argument concludes from the existence ol the
,1 o lo ' cal Wld as temporal and contingent, conditioned and phenumeuo,
argumcnt.10 the existence of God as its one eternal, unconditioned, self-
existent cause. It is an argument which has bceu in no respect
discredited by recent research and discussion, which is in substance
accepted not only by theists but by panlhoists, and which forms
the basis even of the philosophy of Herbert Spencer. 1 he principle
on which It proceeds-the principle of causality-has only come to
be more clearly seen to be ultunalc, universal, nnd necessary Iho
hypothesis of an inhnite series of causes and ellects has not had its_
burden of irrationality in the lea.st diminished. The progiess of
science has not tended to show that the world itself may be reason-
ably regarded as eternal and sillo.Msteiit ; in the view of theists it
has only tended to render more probable the
physical things must have their origin i
cause. The necessity of dcterminiug an;, ., - ,.
■ • .'estcd by science as to the ultimate
doctrine that all
single non-physical
ght the bearings of the
new views reached or suggested by sen
constitution of matter, the conservation of energy, cosmic evolution,
the a<'e and duration of the present iihysical system &c.. has been
the chief factor in the latest developments of the argument a
'emtingrntxa nunult. Tho teleological argument, which concludes
from the regularities and adjustments, preeonforinities and har.
'monies, in nature that its hist cause must be an intelligence, has
been both corrected and extended owing to recent advances of
science and especially of biological science. The theory of evolu-
tion has not shaken the principle or lessened the force ol the
ergament, while it has widened its scope and opened up vistas of
Wander design, but it has so changed Us mode of presentation that
already the Bndgewatcr Treatises and similar works are to some
extent antiquated. Perhaps tho most promising of the later
applications of the argument is that which rests on the results
obtained by a philosoiihieal study of history, and which seeks to
show that tho goal of the evolution of life, so far as it has yet pro-
ceeded is thc-perfectingof human nature, and the eternal source
of thin'-s a power which makes fur truth and righteousness. The
ethical "argument— the proof from conscience and the moral order—
held a very subordiu.ilc place in the estimation ol writers on natural
theologyuutd Kanl rested on it almost the whole weight of theism.
It has ever sinco been pioinincnt, nnd has been the argument most
relied on to produce practical conviction. Much importance is now
rarely attached to those forms of the metaphysical argunienl which
are deductions from a particular conception, as, e.g., of a perfect
being. Ignoiauce alone, however, can account for the assertion
often met with that the argument is generally abandoned. It has
only been tiansfoiincd. It has passed from a stage in which it was
presented in i.articular ontological forms into one in which it is set
forth in a general epistemological form. As at jircscnt maintained
'\l is to the effect that God is tho idaft of ideas, the ultimate in
human thought, without whom all thought is confusion and self-
contradiction. In this form, by what theologians and religions
philosophers possessed of much specniativo inyght is it not held?
"TSTe ii^n creseut vriur'a JVwixn, mi the Inaic.Uvni'df tho Uterom™ giVen
inlbsaol>'E
' The changes adopted in the methods of theistio proof have all
tended in one direction, namely, to remove or correct extreme and
exaggerated conceptions of the Divine transcendence and to produce
a title appreciation of the Divine immanence,— to set aside deism
and to enrich theism with what is good m pantheism. The general
movement of religious speculation within the theistic area has been
towards mediation between the extremes of pantheism and of dcism,(
towards harmonious combination of the personal self-equality and
the universal agency of the Divine, ■ Positive science has power-'
fully co-operated with speculation ■itt.iglving support and impulse
to this movement. While the modern scientific view of the world
does not lesult in pantheism, it affords it a partial and relative
justification, and requires a theism which, while maintaining th«
personality of God, recognizes God to bo in all things nnd all
thin-'S to be of Cod, through God, and to God. It m.iy be said
that^theism li.as always thus recognized the Divine inimancnceJ
Tho vague recognition of it. however, which precedes scientific,
insight and the conquest and absoriitiou of pantheism is not to
be identified with the realizing comprehension ot_it which is tliciri
As to the further treatment of the idea of Cod in'reccnt or'con- The uie«
temporary theology, the following may bo mentioned as, perhaps, of Gci
the chief distinctive features :— first, tho general endeavour to in con.
present the idea as a harmonious reflex of the Divine nature and tempo-
life, instead of as a mere aggregate of attributes ; secondly, am rary
consequently, the greater care shown in the classihcation and theologj(
correlation of tho attributes, so .as to refer them to their appropriate
places in tho one great organic thought; and, thirdly, the more
truly ethical and spiritual representation given of the Divine
chjracter. To realize the nature and import ol the first of tliesa
features it is only neccs.sary to compare the expositions given of the
idea of God in the works of such theologians as Nitzsch, Thomasius,
Doiner, Plulippi. Kahnis. and even more in those of the represenj
tatives of German spicuhitivc theism, with such as are to be found
in the treati.scs of Hill, Watson, Wardlaw, and Hodge, which,
although published in the present century, express only the views
ol au e'arher ago. As to the second point, there has of late been a
vast amount of thought expended in endeavouring so to classify
and co-ordinate the iittrihutcs, and so to refer them to the various
moments of the Divine exi.stence and life, as that God may be able
to be apprehended both m His unity and c wililelencss, selflden
lity and spiritual richness, as ono whole harmonious and jwrfcct
ii.i'^oii.ility Of the woik attempted in this direction our limits
will not allow us to treat. In regard to the third feature, an>
one who will peruse an essay like Weber's Fom Zornc GMcs, oi
Kit.sehrs De Im Da, and compares tho way in which the liiblieal
conception of tho wrath of God is there presented with the mode ol
exliibitiu.' it prevalent for so many ages, is likely to be convmcei
that con^iderablo progress has been made even in recent times in
the study of the moral .aspects of God's character. Tliat the Divino
flory must centre iu moral perfection, in holy love, is a thought
which is undoubtedly being lealized by all theists with evcr-incrtas
ing clearness and fulness.' , , , - -..
It follows from tho above that theistic thought has been moving Adv«jic«
in a direction which could not fail to suggest to those influenced by of trint.^
it that a rigidly nnitarian conception of God must be inadequate tarian,
and that the trinitarian concei.tion might be the only one in which theism,
reason can rest as seif-consistent. So long as the simplicity o.
the Divine nature was conceived of as an abstract self.identity,
intelligence could not venture to attempt to pass from the unity
to the trinity of the Godhead, or hope for any glimpse of the pos-
sibility of harmoniously combining them. But, this view of tho
simplicity of tho Divine nature having been abandoned, and au idea
of God ;.ttained which assigns to Him .all the distinctions corn-
has caused It to strike deeper root and grow with fresh vigour.'^
Never since the Nicone age has theological speculation been so
actively occupied with the con.stitution of the Godhead, and with
the trinitarian representation thereof, as from tho commencement
of the present century. It is, of course, impossible hero to describe
any of the attempts which, during this period, have been made to
show that the absolute Divine self-consciousness implies a trinitarian
fnini of existence, and that intelligently to think the essential
Tiinity IS to think those moments in the Divine existence without
which personality and sclf-consciousness arc unthinkable ; or that
a worthy conception of Divine lovo demands a liinitanan niodo of
life ■ or that a world distinct from God presupposes that God as,
triune is in and for Himself a perfect and infinite world, so that
1 .SCO llie e.lremcly intcrcullni: paper, by Peabody. MontRomery. Ilowison!
.nd 11 aiT in ll,e ./.»/»»/ .•/ *,..r./a»e. /'/,.,o.,.;.'^ lor Oct. 1S8S oa ll.e que^
non •■ Is Pi.iulici.m the UpllmiUc Oulcnmc uf Mi«lcrn .Science ? Alsn y t.
Au;,.f. *i, "»/.V Tncum. llMi . and J. Fl.ke's Mm »/ Ooi a> affccUd (,y J/o*,v,
^'i'T/r'u'ch' Sv ron dm OMI. i'li/oufHO/t™. WU UfU, DeJuUa AUrilnilmvn.
Dei DiKrimint, IR-W. Uoih •re. lio»iuvir. oln;«d» lu«<lcQU«lc
THEISM
24D
"tiii iftribntej .inl activities already fully realized in the trinitarian ■
lif« f«n proceed outwarJs, not of uecesaity but of absolnte freedom ;
or that the whole iinivertie is a manifestation of His triune nature;
and all finite spirituil life a reflexion of the archetypal life, self-
■nstaiued nnd self- fulfil led therein.- All the more thoughtful
trinitarian divines of tho present endeavour to make it apparent
that the doctrine of tlie Trinity is not one which has been merely
imposed upon faith by external authority, but one which satisfies
reason, gives expression to the self-evidencing substance of reve-
lation, and explains and supports religious experience. If it be
thought that their success has not been great, it has to b© remcm-
berei that they have been labouring near the commencement of a
mo>-ement, and so at a stage when all individual efforts can have
only a very limited worth. To one general conclusion they all seem
to have come, namely, that the idea of God as substanre is not the
only idea with which we can connect, or in which we may find
implied, tri-personality. The category of substance is, in sonle
respects, one very inapplicable to God, as the philosophy of Spinoza
has indirectly shown. If the theologians referred to be correct, the
doctrine of the Trinity is not specially dependent upon it. In their
view God cannot bo thought of consistently as, e.g., Absolute Life,
Absolute Intelligence, or Absolute Love, unless He be thought of
in a trinitarian manner.
Poaitian While trinitarian theism has thus dnring the present century
of uni- shown abundant vitality and vigour, it cannot be .'=aid to have
tariaa .gained auy decided victory over unitarian theism. Tho latter has
theism, also within the same period spread more widely and shown more
practical activity, more spiritual life, than in any former age. Tho
unitarianism represented by a Martineau is a manifest advance on
that which was represented by a Priestley. Theism in its unitarian
form is the creed of very many of the most cultured and most
religious minds of our time, alike in Europe and America. In
this form it has also signally shown its power in contemporary
India. Brahmoism is, perhaps, tho most remarkable example of a
unitarian theism which exhibits all the characteristics of a positive
faith and a churchly organization. The unitarian theism of the
present age is distinguished by the great variety of its kinds or
tvpea. * None of these, it must be added, are very definite or stable,
flence unitarian theism is often seen to approximate to, or become
absorbed into, agnosticism or pantheism, cosmism or hiimanitari-
anism. This may bo due, however, less to its own character than
to the character of the age.'
.Mjn s The mind of man has clearly not yet ceased to ta intensely
interest interested in thoughts of God. There are ao grounds apparent for
ID tite supposing that it will ever ceaso to seek after Him or to strive to
idea of enlarge its knowledge of His ways. And, if the idea of God be
God. what has been suggested in the foregoing pages, the search for God
cannot fail to meet with an ever-growing reaponpe. If the idea of
God be the most comprehensive of ideas, inclusive of all tho cate-
gories of thought and implicative of their harmonious synthesis
and perfect realization, all thought and experience must of its very
natci* tend to lead onwards to a fuller knowledge of God. For
the knowledge of God, on this Tifiw, consists in no mere inference
reached through a process of theological argumentation, but in an
evei -growing apprehension of an ever-advancing self -revelation of
God ; and all pnilosophy, science, experience, and history must
necessarily work together to promote it.
Growth All speeulatiTe thought, whether professedly metaphysical or
of the professedly theological, is conversant with ideas included in the
idea in idea of God. It deals with what is necessary in and to thought ;
•pecola- and within that sphere, notwithstanding many aberrations, it has
tive made slow bnt sure progress. The history of philosophical specu-
tbought lation is not only, like the whole history of man, essentially rational,
but it is, in substance, the history of reason itself in its purest.
form, — not the record of an accidental succession of opinions, but
of the progressive apprehension by reason of God's revelation of
Himself in its own constitntion. " There is much in the history
of speculative thought, just as in the outward life of man, that
belongs to the accidental and irrational — errors, vr^garies, paradoxes,
whimsicalities, assuming in all ages the name and th" guise of
philosophy. But, just as the student of the constituticnal history
of England can trace, amidst all the complexity and contingency
of outward and passing events, through successive times and
dynasties, underneath the waywardness of individual prission and
the struggle for ascendency of classes and ordei-s, the silent, steady
development of that system of ordered freedom which we namo
th* constitution "of England, so, looking back on the course which
haman thought has travelled, we shall be at no loss to discern
beneath the surface change of opinions, unalTected by the abnormal
displays of individual folly and unreason, the traces of a continuous
onward movement of mind."* And this continuous onward move-
ment is towards the clearer and wider apprehension of the whole
system of ultimate truths which is comprehended in the idea of
the Absolnte Truth: The thoughts of men as to God are necessarily
1 Goblet d'Alrlella, Caniemporan/ Ecalulitm of Jieliyiovs Thought <n England,
America, and India, JS85,
* rrmcipai (Ulrd. P'OffixsMsfstu a/ ifia Scimret, pp. Ti-UH, Gta«gow. 1676,
83—11*
enlarged by increase of insight into the .ocnditicns, of Iheir own
thinking. The disquisitions of merely ordfessional theologians
on thonature and attributes of God have done far less to elucid.ate
the idea of God than tho philosophical views of great' speculativo
thinkers, and would have done less than they have .actually accom-
plished were it not for the guidance and suggestion' found in thess
views.
The sciences co-Operate with speculative philosophy and with Co^:•J^01»
one another in aiding thought to. grow in tho knowledge of God. lious of
Tho greatness, the power, the wisdom, the goodness, of the God of scieOLf
creation and providence 'must be increasingly apprehended in the
measure that nature and its course, humanity and its hibtory, are
apprehended ; and that measure is given us in the sta^e of develop-
ment attained by the sciences. '* God's glory in the lieavens," for
example, is in some degree visible to the naked eye and uuinstructed
intellect, but it becomes more perceptible and more impressive
with every discovery of astronomy. Not otherwise is it as regards
all ths sciences. Each of them has its distinctive and appropriata
contribution to bring towards tho'completion of the revelation cf
Qod, and cannot withhold it.
But the idea of God is not one which can be rightly appreheudel of mora'
merely through intellect speculatively exercisol or operating on expert-''
the findings of science. It requires to be also apprehcnaed through ence ;
moral experience and the discipline of life. Neither individuals
nor communities can know more of God as a moral being than their
moral condition and character permit them to know. The appre-
hension of God and the sense of moral distinctions and moral obli-
gations condition each other and correspond to each other. History
shows us that sincere and pious men may receive as a supernatural! j
revealed truth the declaration that God is love, and yet hold that
His love is very limited, being real only to a favoured class, and
that He has foreordained, for His mere good pleastrS) millions of
the human race to eternal misery. How was such inconsistc-ocy
possible) Largely because these men, notwithstatlding their
sincerity and piety, were lacking in that love to maii through
experience of which alone God's love can be truly apprehended.
In like manner, it is not only the science of law which cannot
advance more rapidly than the sense of jtistice, but also theology
so far as it treats of the righteousness of God. Thus the knowledge
of God is conditioned and infiuenced by the ciuis^.of man's moral
exporience.
The same may be said of the distinctively religions experience. In of re-
it alsb there has been a continuous discovery and a conticnoas dis- ligioue
closure of God. It is not long since the ethnic religions were very expert-'
generally regarded as merely stages of hnman foUv, so many monu. en^
ments of aversion to God and of departure from the truth as to
God. It WIS supposed that they were adequately described when
they were called "idolatries" and "superstitions." This view
rested on a strangely unworthy conception both of human nature
and of Divire providence, and is fast passing away. In its place
has come the conviction that the history of religion has been essen-
tially a process of search for God on the part of man, and a process
of Self-revelation on the part of God to man, resulting in a continu-
ous widening and deepening of human apprehension of the iJivine.
All, indeed, has not been progress in the history of religion either
in the ethnic or Christian period ; much has been th& reverse ; but
all stages of religion testify that man has been seeking and fi.uding
God, and .God making Himself known unto man.
But, while, knowledge of God may reasonably he expected un- OomiT!?
ceasingly to grow, in all the ways which have been indicated, from struggle*
more to more, it is not to be supposed that doubt or denial of GcJ's with nz-
existence must, therefore, speedily disappear. Religious agnos- nostidsir.
ticism cannot fail to remain long prevalent. The very we.ilth of
contents in the idea of God inevitably exposes the idea to the
B3saul(^> of agnosticism. All kinds of agnosticism merge into
agnosticism as to God, from the ver}* fact that all knowledge
implies and may contribute to the knowledge of God. The moro
comprehensive an idea is from the more points can it bo assailed,
and the idea of God, being comprehensive of all' ultimate ideas,
may be assailed through them all, as, for example, through the
idea of being, or of infinity, or of causality, or of personality, or of
rectitude. 'Then, in another way, the unique fulness of tho idea
of God explains the prevalence of agnosticism in regard to it. The
ideas arc not precisely in God what they arc in man or natiiiv.
God is being as man or nature is not; for Ho is independent and
necessary being, and in that sense the one true Being. God is not
limited by time and space as creatures are; for, whereas duration
and extension merely are predicates of creatures, the corresponding
attributes of God are eternity and immensity. God as first cause
is a cause in a higher and mofe real 'sense than any second cause.
So as to personality, intelligence, holiness, love. Just because the
idea of God is thus elevated in all respects, there are many minds
which fail or refuse to rise up to it, and which because of its very
truth reject it as not true at all. They will not hear of th.it
Absolute Truth which is simply the idea of God ; but that they
reject it is their misfortune, not any argument against the truth,
itself. (R. F.)
XXITI — t.'! '
■250
T H E — T H E
TIIEMIS. the Greek mythological pcr^bnifiSfetlpri .of
custom. In Homer the word occurs both ia the^singular
and in tlio plural (thcmistcs), with the sensox)f " cus.tom,"
"unwritten law." But even in Homer Thcinis is also
spoken of as a goddess who, at the command of.2eus, calls
the gods to an assembly and summons. or disperses the
assemblies of men. But after all she is a thin abstraction,
a faint shadow, by the side of the full-blooded gods 'of
Olympus. Hesiod furnished her with a pedigree (making
her the daughter of Sky and Earth), and married her to
Zeus, by whom she became the mother of a brood of well-
bred abstractions, — Legality, Justice, Peace, the Hours,
and the Fates. Pindar, no doubt with a full sense of her
abstract nature, speaks of her as the assessor of Zeus. In
one passage {Prom., 209) ^schylus seems to regard her as
identical with Earth, and "Earth-Themis" had a worship
and priestess at Athens, where. Athene also appears with
the surname Themis. There' v-as a tradition that the
oracle at Delphi had first been'in the hands of Earth, who
transferred it afterwards to Themis, who in turn gave it
up to Apollo. Themis had temples at Athens";, Thebes,
Tanagra, and Epidaurus. At Olympia she had an altar,
and at Troezen there was an altar of the Themides (plural
of Themis). In modern w-riters Themis sometimes stands
as a personification of law and justice, — an idea much more
abstract and advanced than the original sense of "tradi-
tional custom."
THEMISTIUS, named ri^aS^?, or " the Welllan-
guaged," was a rhetorician and philosopher of the latter
half of the 4th century. Of Paphlagonian descent, he
settled and taught at Constantinople. Thence he was
called to Rome, but, after a short stay in the West, returned
to the Eastern capital, where he resided-during the rest of
his life. Though a pagan, he was admitted to the senate
by Constantius in 355. He was prefect of Constantinople
in 38-1 on the nomination of Theodosius. Themistius's
paraphrases of Aristotle's Posterior Analytics, Physics, and
De Anima are- deservedly esteemed ; but weariness and
disgust are the sectimcnts stirred by the servile orations
in whith he panegyrizes successive emperors, comparing
first one and then another to Plato's " true philosopher,"
and, when all other compliments have been exhausted, to
the " idea " itself. (See Reiske, quoted with approval by
Dindorf in the preface to his;,gdition : " Fuit aulicus adu-
lator et versipellis, vanUs jactator-.philosophiK suae, specie
magis quam re cultae, ineptus et ridiculus vexator et appli-
cator Homeri et veteVis historia;, tautologus et sophista ;
in omnibus orationibus pa:ne eadem, et ubique argutias
longe pctitoe.") Themistius's paraphrases of the De Ccelo
and of book A of the A/eCaphysics have, reached us only
through Hebrew versions.
j Tho first edition of Themistius's works (Venice, 1534) included
the raraphrase.s and eight of the orations. Nineteen orations were
known to Petavius. wliosc editions appeared in 1613 and 1618.
Hardiiin (Paris, 1C84) gives thirty-tlircc. Another oration was
iliscovcred by Angelo Mai, and published at Milan in 1816. The
most recent editions arc W. Dindorfs of the orations (Leipsic,
1832)and L. Spengel'sorthc pan pli rases (Leipsic, 1SC6). Tho Latin
tr.inslations of tlie Hebrew versions of tlie paraphrases of the Dc
Cotlo and book A of tlie Metaphysics were puiiiishcd at Venice
in 1074 and 1058 respectively. Sec Fabrioius, Bibliotheca Ontca,
vl 790 sq.
THEMISTOCLES was borti in tho latter part'of the 6th
century b.c, .some time during the rule of the Pisistratidae
at Athens, the son of an Athenian father, Neocles, by a
foreign woman from Thrace Or Caria A wayward, am-
bitious, aspiring boy, out of sympathy alike with ordinary
boyish amusements and with the learning and culture of
the age, he was told, it is said, by his schoolmaster " that
he would certainly be something great, whether good or
had." 'The victory of Marathon in 490 stirred tho young
man's eoul, and he seeras tu have forR.<:p.i>D that it was but
the "b^annihg of a yet_^greater conflict: He resolved from
that fijiKi to make his country great, tliat hfe might l.c great
ant^ famous himself. As he was rising to political distinc-
tion; be had for his rival the Greek " Cato," the incorrupt-'
iblo Aristides, a purer patriot, a better citizen, "but a loss
sagacious and far-seeing statesman. The two men were in
sharp antagonism as to what their country's policy should
be, and it;ended in a vote of ostracism which'-scnt Ari.ttiiicg
into temporary banishment in 483. The main qiie«ti^a
between them probably was whether Athens should seek
greatness by sea or by land (see vol. xi. p. 99), and the
victory of the policy of Themistocles led on to the most
brilliant era in Greek history, the maritime supremacy oi
Athens. Persia, he felt sure, was meditating a great
revenge, and Athens must make herself a naval power to
avert the blow. Already a small war with the i^Cginctan
islanders, close to her own shores, had roused her energies,
and at the prompting of Themistocles she had built 200
ships and trained a number of seamen; .In 480 the storir
which Themistocles had clearly foi-eseen burst ; the greal
king, as ho was called, was covering the land with his troops
and the sea with his ships. Greece was divided and panic-
stricken ; Thessaly and all to the north of Boeotia had
joined the enemy, and the despair of the remainder of the
Greek world was echoed by the oracle of Delphi. There
was, however, a word of hope in the memorable phrase of
the "wooden wall,"' which, it was generally felt, must point
to the fleet, more, however, with a view to flight than to
resistance. Salamis, too, was named in the oracle, coupled
with the epithet "divine," which Themistocles cleverly
argued portended disaster to the enemies of the Greeks
rather than to the Greeks themselves. It was -a great
achievement when he finally prevailed on his fellow-
citizens to quit their city and their homes — it seemed for
ever — and to trust themselves to their ships. There had
been some sea-fights off the northern shores of Euba-a ;
the Spartans had fallen at Thermopyla;, and Xerxes and
his host were now laying waste Attica, not, however, before
its inhabitants had conveyed their families to the adjacent
island of Salamis, where also the Greek fleet had taken up
its station, the Persian armada of 1200 vessels being in
harbour at Phalerum. The Athenians from their ships
saw the flames in which their city, its acropolis and its
temples, were perishing, but their spirits rose with
calamity, and with one heart, at the bidding of Themis-
tocles, they called back all of their brethren who were in
temporary banishment, Aristides among them. Nearly two-
thirds of the entire fleet was theirs, but for the sake of
unity among the allies, who would follow only the lead of
Sparta, they acquiesced in its being under the command
of a Spartan admiral. It was clear, however, that the fate
of Greece now depended on the action of the Athenians
and on the prudence and ability of Themistocles, by whom
they were guided. The Greeks of the I'cloponncse, more
particularly the Corinthians, were for moving the fleet
from Salamis to the isthmus, as the enemy's land forces
were already in possession of the neighbouring shores of
Attica. Seeing the danger of yet further disunion, with
the probable result of the breaking up and dispersion of
the fleet, and having in vain protested against quitting their
present station, Themistocles went straight to tho Spartan
admiral, Eurybiades, and induced him to call ani>tlier
council. There was much angry debating, till at last the
Spartan felt he must yield to the threat of Themistocles
that the Athenians would cither fight at Salamis or sail
away as they were to Italy. Cut the Peloponnesian
Greeks were still dissatisfied, and insisted that tl cy ought'
to be at the isthmus for the defence of what yet remau^
* " The wooden wall shall alone remaiji uuconquere*! to deknd you
and your children:'*'
T H E — T H E
251
I
of Greece ; a third co«ncU was held, and Themistocles felt
that its decision would be against him, when, by a sudden
happy thought, he contrived to have a secret message
conveyed to the commanders of the-P8rsian fleet through
bis slave, an Ionian Greek from Asia, a man of intelligence
and education, and well acquainted with the Persian
language. The comraunicatiou came in the name of
Themistoiles, who professed that he wished well to the
king, and that now was a good opportunity for attacking
and crushing the Greeks, as they were divided among
themselves and were bent on flight. The strjitagem was
successful, and the enemy's great armada advanced along
the coast of Attica that same night, and took up a posi-
tion which effectually confined the Greek fleet within the
narrow' strait between Salamis and the southern shore of
Attica- The Greek captains, not knowing the state of the
case, were still wrangling through the night, when just
before daybreak the banished Aristides came from /Egina
with the news that the Persian fleet was close at hand and
that retreat was impossible "Let us still be rivals," he
said to Themistocles, " but let our strife bo which can best
save our country."
The great victory of Salamis (see vol. iL p. 100) left
Greece mistress of the sea, and was followed by the retreat
of Xerxes. Themistocles, it is said, frightened the king
beck to Asia by another secret message, to the effect that
the victorious Greeks were bent on following him up to
the Hellespont and burning his bridge of boats, but that
he was doing his best to check their ardour, though iir,
reality he had himself advised immediate pursuit of the
enemy We cannot but admire the man's sagacity and far-
sightedness in thus laying the king under an obligation
..hich he might some day turn to his own profit, though
we cannot but feel that he had some of the worst as well
as some of the most splendid characteristics of the Greek
After the victory Themistocles sailed with the Athenian
squadron through the^gean, and from some of the islanders
who had sided with the enemy he exacted heavy fines, out
of which, it appears, he filled his own purse. When the
Greeks met at the isthmus to decide according to custom
the prizes of merit for the glorious day of Salamis, he re-
ceived only the second prize, the first being awarded to the
Spartan admiral, but by way of compensation he wa.^ soon
afterwards heartily welcomed at Sparta, and loaded with
honours so extraordinary as to imply that even the Spartans
themselves recognized him as the first man in Greece. It
was not long, however, before he gave them deadly offence.
After the victories of Plataa and Mycale in 479 the Athen-
ians went back to their desolate city and began to rebuild
and fortify it Jealous fears of the'growing power of Athens
were awakened, and the Spartans, as representatives of the
Greeks generally, formally protested against the fortifica-
tion of a Greek city outside the Peloponncse, on the ground
that some future Persian invader might make it a base of
operations Themistocles saw the dangers of Spartan oppo-
sition, and got the Athenians to commission him to arrange
matters along with two other envoys, who, however, were
piuposely not allowed to arrive at Spart^ at the same time
as himself He told the Spartan magistrates that before
he could transact business with them he must wait for his
colleagues ; meanwhile Athens was being fortified, eveiy
man, woman, and child putting a hand to the work, and as
soon as Themistocles Understood that it was sufficiently ad
Tanced he declared openly that Athens would biook no sort
of interference. The Spartans felt they had been tricked,
but they could do nothing. And now Themistocles pro-
ceeded to fortify Pirseus, and to enlarge the harbour, tbos
providing Athens with an excellent naval dockyard, and
holding out an inducement to foreigners to settle in the
^ Not more th&n a qoAi'tor of a mile wide in its narrawesc part.
city for the purposes of trade. Twenty war ships, too, were
at his suggestion to be built every year, and nothing left
undone to make Athens prosperous and powerful
A few years afterwards (in 471 probably) we find his
political career terminated by a vote of ostracism, due
perhaps in part to Spartan influence at Athens, and also
to an offensive boastfulness and ostentation which dis-
gusted the sensitive Athenian democracy. He was even
charged with corrupt practices and with receiving bribes
from Persia. From Argos, whither he had retired as an
exile, he was forced to flee by a threat of the Spartans,
who alleged that they had proofs of his treasonable com-
plicity in the schemes of their countryman Pausanias, and
to take refuge in the island of Corcyra; but here again
he was pursued by Spartan and Athenian commissioners,
and driven to seek the protection of Admetus, king of the
Molossians, the chief people of Epirus. In the court of
this half-Gxeek half -barbarian prince he found a hospitable
reception, and he was furnished with the means of crossing
the .^gean to Ephesus. Shortly after his arrival in Asia,
the SOD of Xerxes, Artaxerxes, succeeded to the throne of
Persia, and to him Themistocles contrivad to make himself
known as a fugitive from ungrateful Greece, which he had
saved, and uow ready and willing to advise and assist the
king in avenging his father's defeat. He was treated, it
is said, with marked respeat, and was liberally pensioned
with the revenues of three wealthy towns — Magnesia,
Myus, and Lampsacus. It was at the first of these, which
was near the coast, and whence he might be supposed to
ha\ o opportunities for watching the affairs of Greece, that
he passed the last year of his life, dying a natural death
at the age of 65. The year of his death is not accurately
ascertainable ; opinions vary between 460 and 447.
Heiodotus, TUi* dides, and Plutarch are our chief original
sources for tlie life of Themistocles. The subject is folly treated in
the histories of Grote and ThiilwaU. (W. J. B.)
THENARD, Lotns J.^cqces (1777-1857), was born on
the 4th of May 1777, at Loupti'ire, near Nogent-sur-Seine,
in Champagne. His father, though a poor man, sent him
to the academy of Sens, where he received a liberal edu-
cation. At the age of sixteen he went to Paris to study
pharmacy He attended the lectures of Fonrcroy and
Vauquelin, and saw that the only way to learn chemistry
was to work at it. Vauquelin, himself a poor man, ad-
mitted a few students to his laboratory on payment of a
fee of 20 francs a month. But this fee was prohibitory
to the peasant's son , the utmost that his father could send
him just kept him alive in Paris. Thenard went to Vau-
quelin and asked to be allowed to do any menial work for
him, if only he would let him assist in his laboratory. One
of Vauquelin 's sisters bad slipped into the room and heard
part of the conversation : she said to her bVofher, "He is
a good lad ; you should keep him ; he will help you in the
laboratory, and look after our pc. at /ea ; your dandy
assistants always let it boil " Thenard was engaged on
these terms. Long afterwards he said that be looked upon
the chemistry of the pot au feu and the process of sim-
mering as of very great importance : they had been the
turning-point of his life. Thenard assisted Vauquelin in
the laboratory and at his lectures, and, when by starving
for a day or two he accufflulated sous enough to pay for a
seat in the gallery, used to go to the theatre to improve his
pronunciation and rub off his rustic accent. ,
By and by Vauqodin gave him an opportunity of
testing hk powers as a lecturer. Having to go for some
days to the country, he asked Thenard to take his placa
For the first t.wo or three lectures his attention was fixed
on his work, and his eyes did not wander from the lecture
table On the fifth day he ventured to look round the
room, when to his consternation be san Fourciojf asd
252
T H E — T H E
Vauquelm among tbe audience. They were so satisfied
with what they had heard that they obtained for Thenard
io 1797 an appointment as teacljer of chemistry in a
school, and in 1798 the post of rep6titeur at the Ecole
Polytechnique.
In 1804 Vauquelin resigned the professorship of
chemistry at the College de France, and successfully used
his influence to have Thenard appointed. In 1810 he
succeeded Fourcroy both as professor of chemistry at the
ficole Polytechnique and as member of the Academy. He
was also appointed professor of chemistry in the faculty
of the sciences. He was made a chevalier of the Legion of
Honour in 1814, commander in 1837, and grand officer in
1842 la 182.5 Charles X. gave him the title of baron;
from 1 827 to 18-30 he represented the department of Yonne
in the chamber of deputies. In 1832 Louis Philippe made
him a peer of France. As vice-president of the conseil
sup^rieure de I'instruction publique, he exejcised a great
influence on scientific education in France. He died 21st
June 1857, and was buried at La Ferte, near Chalon-sur-
Saone. In 1861 a statue was erected to him at Sens, and
in 1865 the name of his native village was changed to La
Louptiire-Th^nard. Thenard was tall and strongly built,
his hair was thick and black, his eyes bright, and his
manner active and prompt. He married, in 1810, Mile.
Humblot, granddaughter of ContS. His wife and several of
his children predeceased him. He was survived by his son
Paul, who had assisted bim in some of his later researches.
I Thenard wa§ above all things a teacher ; as he himself
said, the professor, the assistants, the laboratory, every-
thing, must be sacrificed to the students. The history of
bis discovery of the peroxide of hydrogen well illustrates
the predominance of the teacher in his character. He was
lecturing on the formation of salts, and had told his
students that a metal must be oxidized to a certain extent
in order that it may combine with an acid to form a salt ;
if the metal be -combined with more than the proper
quantity of oxygen, the excess of oxygen will be given off
when the oxide is treated with an acid, and, as an illus-
tration, he mentioned the action of acids on peroxide of
barium. As he spoke his conscience smote him, for the
experiment had not been made. Immediately after lecture
he mixed peroxide of barium and nitric acid, keeping the
temperature low by means of ice. He was surprised to
see the peroxide dissolve without any evolution of gas.
Ho left the mixture standing, and next day, before
lecture, noticed small bubbles of gas rising from it. Pour-
ing some of the liquid into a test-tube and warming it, he
saw a large amount of gas escape, whidh he easily recog-
nized as pure oxygen. At first he thought the acid had
been oxidized, but he soon saw the true explanation of
.ithe phenomena, and discovered the peroxide of hydrogen.
His lecture experiments were few, woU-chosen, and accur-
ately performed. If any failure occurred he would roundly
scold his assistant, often apologizing for his vehemence
when the short fit of auger was over His lecture room,
seated for 1000, was almost always crowded by eager and
. attentive students and visitors.
Like most great teachers, Tlicnard pubUshed a text-book, and
perhaps we may say that bv his Train dc Chi-mie J^Urmntairc,
Thioriquc cl Praliqiic (4 vol's . Paris, 1813-16; 6th eA, 5 v«ls.,
1833-30) he did even more to further the progress of the science
than by his numerous and important original discoveiies. His
first original paper (1799) was on the compounds of arsenic and
antimony with o.xygcn and sulphur Careful analyses led hira to
cooflusiona as to the composition of the metallic oxides contra,
dictory of some of Bertbollcl's theoretical views; he also showed
(1802) that BerthoHet's "zoonic acid" was impure acetic acid.
BerthoUet, far from resenting these corrections from a younger
man, took this opportunity of introducing himself, and invited
Thenard to become a member of tho "Socicti d'ArcueU," to the
proceedings of which Thenard contributed important papers. Soon
after lufl appointment as repetiteur at the Ecole Polytechniqtie
Thenard made the acquaintance of Gay-Luaaac, and formed witl^
him a lifelong friendship. Their joint work, and its relation to
the discoveries of Davy, have been fully recorded in the article Cay-
Lu.sSAC Of his separate- investigations perhaps the most important
IS that on the compound ethers, begun in 1S07. He showed that
each acid gives its own ether, and th^t the acid and alcohol can bo
recovered by decomposiag the ether by means of caustic alkali.
His discovery of pcro.xide of hydrogen (181S) has already been
described. His researches on sebacic acid (1802) and on bile (1807)
also deserve special notice- The blue substance known as Thenard's-
blue (essentially aluminate of cobalt) was prepared by bim in
response to a demand by Chaptal for a cheap blue, as bright as
ultramarine, and capable of standing the temperature of the porce-
lain furnace
Th(!nftrd'8 rc-iearcbes were chleHy puoiisncd IQ the Annalta de Chimie ef de
Physitjue, in llie Afemotrcs dt la Soct^te J'Jtcuex/.Rnd iD Uie Comptu Rendus Hnd
tbe A/^mctres of the Academy of Sciences. (A, C. B )
THEOBALD, Lewis (1688-1744), will suivive as the
prime butt of the original Dunciad when as a playwright,
a litterateur, a translator, and even as a Shakespearean
commentator, he will be entirely forgotten. The son of an
attorney, Theobald was born at Sittingbourne, in Kent, in
1688, and, after a moderate education at Isleworth, studied
for the profession of law, — a profession, however, which h&
never practised. He was a man with literary impulses,
but without genius, even of a superficial kind ; as a,
student, as a commentator, he might have led a happy and
enviable life, had not the vanity of the literary idea led
him into a false position. His Persian Princess (1711)
and his Elcclra (1714) gained no distinction. Li 1726'
The Double Falsehood had a certain vogue, partly from
Theobald's pretence that the greater part of the play was
by Shakespeare. In 1717 he commenced a series of papers-
(uot to " The Censor," as has sometimes been stated, but
under that title) which appeared in Mist's Weekly Jojirmxl j
these do not seem to have been highly thought of by his-
contemporaries, but they were successful in gaining for
Theobald not a few enemies, among whom Dennis may
be named. Seven or eight years later Theobald's cen-
sorious tendencies had intensified rather than moderated,,
and in 1726 he ventured to attack the most eminent
literary man of the day in his Shakespear Restored, or .i
Specimen of ike many Errors as vjell committed as unamended
by Mr Pope in his edition of this Poet. Two years later tho
censor was himself castigated severely, and, as the dedicatee
of The Dunciad, he had long an unenviable notoriety ; as-
readers of the famous satire will remember, be occupied-
the place of chief victim until replaced by Colley Cibber
in 1743. In the matter of Shakespeare editing, however,
he had tho advantage of his powerful rival. When in
1733 Theobald published his edition of Shakespeare in
seven volumes, that of Pope had to go to the wall. Lewis
Theobald wrote other dramas besides those already men-
tioned, and translated plays from Sophocles and Aristo-
phanes, besides a rendering of Plato's Ph-xdo and a part
translation of the Odyssey ; but for none of these things-
is he now remembered. The student of English history
might find it worth while to glance through Theobald'a-
Life of Raleigh (1719). He died in 1744.
For plays, &c , see the Biographia Dramoika, voL L
THEOCRITUS, of Syracuse, the foremost Greek pas-
toral poet, lived a life of which nothing is known except
from allusions in his own works. Tho epigram appended
to his poems makes him say, " I am a Syracusan, a man
of the people^ a son of Praxagoras and Philinna." He
must have been born early in the 3d century,' Smong a
Doriau people, whose Dorian speech survives in his'
rural idyls. These " little pictures " chiefly represent the;
life of shepherds, neat-herds, and fishermen in the woods-
and on the shores of Sicily. They are doubtless inspired i
by the popular poetry of his time, and have much in
common with the Romaic chants of tho modern Greek
shepherds. The first idyl Ls a song on Daphnis, the ideal
T H E — T H E
253
tierdsin&n, sung by the shepherd Thyrsis to a goatherd.
The second is the magical chant which Simastha pours
forth to the magic moon, in the hope of recovering her
lover. In ihe third a goatherd sings to his love,
Amaryllis. The fourth is an interchange of rude banter
between two country fellows ; and the fifth is of the same
kind. The scenes are in southern Italy. The sixth is a
Sicilian singing match between two ideal herdsmen, — not
contemporary rustics, but poets of nobler themes. The
scene of the seventh is in Cos, where the poet introduces
himself at a singing match. He may have been attached
to the Asclepian medical school in Cos ; his friend Nicias
was a physician. Sicily and rival minstrels occupy the
ninth idyl. The tenth contains probably some real
popular ditties, chanted by the reapers. The eleventh,
addressed to Nicias, is a piece of artificial mythological
genre, " The Cyclops in Love." The twelfth is a lyric,
almost of passionate affection. The thirteenth. is another
idyl on a mythical topic, the adventures of Hercules and
Hylas. The fouirteenth and fifteenth are sketches of
military and urban life, the mercenary soldier in love, and
the gathering at the, Adonis feast in Alexandria. Theo-
critus had wandered to the court of Ptolemy, and joined
the literary society of his court.- The sixteenth is a
patriotic piece: the poet urges Hiero to assail the
Carthaginians in Sicily. The seventeenth is a copven-
tional hymn to Ptolemy Philadelphus on his marriage
with his sister. The eighteenth is an epithalamium ; the
nineteenth a tiny picture of Eros stung by a bee ; the
twentieth is the complaint of a herdsman rejected by a
girl of the town ; the twenty-first an idyl of fisher life :
two poor old fishermen recount their dreams. The
twenty-second idyl is a piece of heroic myth, the adven-
tures of Castor and Polydeuces ; and the twenty-fourth is
a tiny epic on the infancy of Hercules. The twenty-third
is an amorous complaint. The twenty-fifth describes the
slaughter by Hercules of the Nemean lion. The twenty-
siith justifies, in the interests of the ritual of Dionysus,
the murder of the curious Pentheus. The twenty-seventh
is the " Wooing of Daphnis," or "Oaristys," an amorous
discourse between a girl and a swain. The twenty-eighth
is a graceful piece of vers de societe, sent to a lady with the
gift of an ivory distaff. The twenty-ninth is amorous ;
and there remain an imperfect and a spurious piece, and
a set of twenty-three epigrams. *
On a general view, Theocritus's surviving poems turn out
to be — (1) rural idyls, the patterns of Virgil's eclogues,
-and of all later pastoral poetry -,.(2) minute epics, or cabinet
pictures from mythology ; (3) sketches of contemporary
life in verse ; (4) courtly compositions ; and (5) expressions
of personal kindliness and attachment. The first category
and the third are those on which the fame of Theocritus
depends. His verse has a wonderful Doric melody ; his
-shepherds are natural Southern people : it is not his fault
that what he wrote truly of them has become a false
commonplace in the pastoral poetry of the North.
Of Theocritus's own life we only know what has been
recorded, that he lived in Syracuse, Cos, and Alexandria,
and that he was acquainted with Nicias, with Aratus, the
astronomical writer, and with Philinus, head of a school
or sect of physicians. The rest is silence or conjecture.
Suidas says that, in addition to the surviving poems, the
Proettdse, the Hopes, Hymns, the h'eroines, Dirges, Elegies,
and Iambics were attributed to him.
The charm of Theocritus can ooly be tasted in his original
Doric, but the best English version is by Mr C. S. Calverley.
M. Count's book on the Alexandrine school of poetry may be re-
commended. J. Hauler, De Theoc. Vita el Carmivibus (Freiburg,
1855), HempeU QuifsL Theoc. (Kiel, 1881), and Rannow, Studia
TAsocritea ( Borlin, 1886), may also be found useful. The best Eng.
lish ei ition of the poems is that of Bishop Wordsworth. CA. L.)
THEODOLITE. .See Surveying. _
THEODORA, the wife of the emperor JnsTiNijiN(7.v.);
was born probably in Constantinople, though according to
some in Cyprus, in the early years of the Cth century, and
died in 547. We shall first give the usually received ac-
count of her life and character, and then proceed to inquire
how far this account deserves to bo accepted. According
to Procopius, our chief, but by no means a trustworthy
authority for her life, she was the daughter of Acacius, a
bear-feeder of the amphitheatre at Constantinople to the
Green Faction, and while still a child was sent on to the
stage to earn her living in the performances called mimes.
She had no gift for either music or dancing, but made her-
self notorious by the spirit and impudence of her acting in
the rough farces, as one may call them, which delighted the
crowd of the capital. Becoming a noted courtesan, she
accompanied a certain Hecebolys to Pontapolis (in North
Africa), of which he had been appointed governor, and,
having quarrelled with him, betook herself first to Alex-
andria, and then back to Constantinople through the cities
of Asia Minor. In Constantinople (where, according to a
late but apparently not quite groundless story, she now
endeavoured to support herself by spinning, and may there-
fore have been trying to reform her life) she attracted the
notice of Justinian, then jiatrician, and, as the all-powerful
nephew of the emperor Justin, practically ruler of the em-
pire. He desired to marry her, but could not overcome
the oppositior of his aunt, the em[iress Euphcmia. After
her death (usually assigned to the year 523) the emperor,
yielded, and, as a law, dating from the time of Constantine,'
forbade the marriage of women who had followed the stage
with senators, this law was repealed. Thereupon Justinian
married Theodora, whom he had already caused to be raised
to the patriciate. They were some time after (527) admitted
by Justin to a share in the sovereignty; and, on his death
four months later, J ustinian and Theodora became sole rulers
of the Roman world. He was then about forty-four years of
age, and she some twenty years younger. Procopius relates
in his unpublished history ('ArcKSora) many repulsive tales
regarding Theodora's earlier life, but his evident hatred of
her, though she had been more than ten years dead when
the Aneedota were written, and llie extravagances which
the book contains, oblige us to regard him as a very doubt-
ful witness. Some confirmation of the reported opposition
of the imperial family to the marriage has been found in
the story regarding the conduct of Justinian's own mother
Vigilantia, which Nicholas Alemanni, the first editor of
the Aneedota, in his notes to that book, quotes fiora a
certain " Life of Justinian " by Theophilus, to which he
frequently refers, without saying where lie found it.
Since the article Justinia.n {q.v.) was published, the pre-
sent writer has discovered in Rome what is believed to be
the only MS. of this so-called life of Justinian ; and his
examination of its contents, which he has lately published,
makes him think it worthless as an authority. See article
Theophilos.
Theodora speedily acquired unbounded influence over
her husband. He consulted her in everything, and allowed
her .to interfere directly, as and when she pleased, in the
government of the empire. She had a right to interfere,
for she was not merely his consort, but empress regnant,
and as such entitled equally with himself to the exercise
of all prerogatives. In the most terrible crisis of Justin-
ian's reign, the great Nika insurrection of 532, her courage
and firmness in refusing to fly when the rebels were attack-
ing the palace saved her husband's crown, and no doubt
strengthened her command over his mind. Officials took
an oath of allegiance to her as well as to the emperor {Nov.,
viii.). She even corrc-^jonded with foreign ambassadors,
and instructed Belisarius how to deal with the popes. PrcH
254
T H E — T H E
copius describes her as acting with harshness, seizing on
trivial pretexts persons who had offended her, stripping
some of their property, throwing others into dungeons,
where they were cruelly tortured or kept for years without
the knowledge of their friends. The city was full of her
spies, who reported to her everything said against herself
or the administration. She surrounded herself with cere-
monious pomp, and required all who approached to abase
themselves in a manner new even to that half-Orieatal
court. She was an incessant and tyrannical matchmaker,
forcing men to accept wives and women to accept husbands
at her caprice. She constituted herself the protectress of
jfaithless wives against, outraged husbands, yet professed
great zeal for the moral reformation of the city, enforcing
severely the laws against vice, and immuring in a " house
of repentance " on the Asiatic side of the Bosphoms five
hundred courtesans whom she had swept out of the streets
of the capital. How much of all this, is true we have no
means of determining, for it rests on the sole word of
Procopius. But there are slight indications in other
^writers that she had a reputation for severity.
/ In the religious strife which distracted the empire
iTheodora took 'part with the Monophysites,. and. her
coterie usually contained several leading prelates and.
monks of that party. As Justinian was a warm upholder
of the decrees of Chalcedon, this difference of the royal
pair excited much remark and indeed much suspicion.
Many saw in it a design to penetrate the secrets of both
ecclesiastical factions, and so to rule more securely. In
other matters also the wife spoke and acted very differently
from the husband ; but their differences do not seem to
have disturbed either his affection or his confidence. The
maxim in Constantinople was that the empress was a
stronger and a safer friend than the emperor ; for, while
he abandoned his favourites to her wrath, she stood by
her protcigis, and never failed to punish any one whose
heedless tongue had assailed her character.
.1 Theodora bore to Justinian no son, but one daughter, —
at least it would seem that her grandson, who is twice men-
tioned, was the offspring of a legitimate daughter, whose
name, however, is not given. According to Procopius,
she had before her marriage become the mother of a son,
who when grown up returned from Arabia, revealed himself
to her, and forthwith disappeared for ever ; but this is a
story to be received with distrust. That her behaviour as
a wife was irreproachable may be gathered, from the fact
that Prqcopius mentions only one scandal affecting it, the
case of Areobindus. Even he does not seem to believe this
case, for, while referring to it as a mere rumour, the only
proof he gives is that, suspecting Areobindus of some offence,
she had torture applied to this supposed paramour. Her
health was delicate, and, though she took all possible care
of it, frec)uently quilting the capital for the seclusion of her
villas on the Asiatic shore, she died comparatively young.
Theodora was small in stature and rather pale, but with a
graceful figure, beautiful features, and a piercing glance.
There remains in the apse of the famous church of St
iVitale at Puavcnna a contemporaneous mosaic portrait of
her, to which the artist, notwithstanding the stiffness
of the material, has succeeded in giving some character.
r The above account is in substance that wliich liistoriansof the last
two centuries and a half have acct-plcJ and repealed re^rdinft this
fart\i3us cm press. IJulitmust be admitted to be open to serious doubts.
Evcrylbuif: relating to the early career of Theodora, the faults of
ber girlhood, the charges of cruelty and insolence in her government
of the empire, rest on the sole autlionty of the Anccdota of Proco-
pius,— a book whose credit is shaken by its bitterness and extra-
vagaoco. If wo reject it, little is left against her, except of course
that action in ecclesiastical aHairs wliich excited tlic wrath of Baro-
nius, who had denounced her before the Anecdola were published.
Id favour of the picture which Procopitis gives of the empress it
may be argued (1) that she certainly did interfere constantly an4
arbitrarily in the administration of public affairs, and showed her-
self therein the kind of person who would be cruel and unscrupul-
ous in her choice of means, and (2) that we gather from other
writer^ an impression that she was harsh and tyrannical, as, for
instance, from the references to her in the lives of the popes in the
Liber Ponlificalis (which used to pass under the name of^Anastasius,
the papal hbtarian). Her threat to the person whom she com-
manded to bring' Vigilins to her was *'nisi hoc feceris, per Viventem
in saecula excoriari te faciam.'* Mnch of what we find in these
lives is legendary, but they are some evidence of Theodora's reputa-
tion. Again (3) the statute [Cod., v. 4, 28) which repeals the older
law so far as relates to scenicsB mulUrea is now generally attributed
to Justin, and agrees with the statement of Procopius that an
alteration of the law was made to legalize her marriage. There is
therefore reason for holding that she was an actress, and, consider-
ing what the Byzantine sta^ was (as appears even by the statute
in question), her Ufe cannot have been irreproachable.
Against the evidence of Procopius, with such confjnnations as
have been indicated, there is to be set the silence of other writers,
contemporaries Uke Agathias and Evagrius, as well as such later
historians as Theojihanes, none of whom repeat the charges as to
Theodora's life before her marriage. To this consideration no
great weight need be attached It is difficult to establish any
view of the controversy without a long and minute examination of
the authoriries, and in particular of the ^lucdola. But the most
probable conclusions seem to be — (1) that the odious details which
JProcopius gives, and which Gibbon did not blush to copy, deserve
no more weight than would bo given nowadays to the maUgnent
scandal of dtSappointed conrtiers under a despotic government,
where scatidal is all the blacker because it is propagated in secret
(see PKOCOPrcs); (2) that apparently she was an actress and a.
courtesan, and not improbably conspicuous in both tbose-charac-
ters ; and (3) that it is impossible to determine how far the specific
charges of cruelty and oppression brought against her by Procopius
deserve credence. We are not bound to accept them, for they are
nncoiToborated ; yet the accounts of Justinian's government gireii
Lq the Anadcta agree in too many respects with what we know
aliunde to enable us to reject them altogether ; and it must b«
admitted that there is a certain internal consistency in the whole
picture which the AnecUcta present of the empres.s. About the
beauty, the intellectual gifts, and the imperions will of Theodora
there can be no doubt, for as to these all our anthorities agree. She
was evidently an extraordinary person, bora to shine in any station
oflifo-
Her fortunes have employed many pens— Among the latest
serious works dealing with them may be menrioned M. Antonin
Debidour's L'lmy^ratricc Thtodora; £tude Critique, Paris, 1885,
which endeavours to vindicate her from the aspersions of Procopius ;
and among more imaginative writings are Sir Henry Pottinger'B
interesting romance illue and Gretii (Ixindon, Hmst and Blackett,
1S79), M. Rhangabe's tragedy ©toSoipa (Leipsic, 1884), and M.
Sardou's play Theodora, produced in Paris in 1884. See also Dr
F. Dahn's Prokopios von Casarca, 1865. CJ' BE.)
THEODORE oj Mopsotstia, the most feminent repre-
sentative of the so-called school of Antioch, ffce beginnings,
of which date from about the middle of the 34 centuryl
(see LUCU.N and Paul of Samosata). He was \>om at
Antioch about the middle of the 4th century, and 'was a
friend of Chrysostcm ; in rhetoric the celebrated Libaniljsl
was -his teacher. Soon, however, he attached himself to
the school of the great esegete and asce' ■, Diodorus, a;
presbyter in Antioch, and, w ith only a transitory period of [
vacillation, he ever afterwards remained faithful to the^
theology and ascetic discipline of this master. Underj
Diodorus he became a skilful exegete, and ultimately tha,
pupil outstripped the master in Biblical learning. About|
383 Theodore became a presbyter in Ajitioch, and begaa
to write against Eunomius the Arian. and against the
christology of ApolUnaris. Soon after 392 he be<Same
bishop of Mopsuestia in CUicia (the modem Missis neai;
Adana). * As such he was held in great respect, and took
part in several synods, with a reputation for orthodoxy that
was never questioned. It was greatly to his advantage that
in the Eastern Chiirch the period between the years 390
and 428 was one of comparative repose. He was on friendly
terms even with CyrU of Alexandria. He died in 428 or 429;
towards the beginning of the Nestorian controversy.
Theodore was a very prolific writer, but, before all, an exegete.
He wrote commentaries on almost every book of the Old and New
Testaments, of which, however, only a small proportion is now
T H E — T H E
265
extant, aa at a later period he lost credit in the church. We still
possess in Greek hi3 commentary on the Minor Prophets, and in
lAtiu translations commentaries on the minor Pauline epistles,
besides very many fragments, especially of that on the epistle to
the Romans. Theodore's importance as an exegete lies in two char-
acteristics:—<I) in opposition to the allegorical-method he insists
QD getting at the literal meaning, and adheres to it when found;
(2) m his interpretation of the Scriptures he takes into account the
historical circumstances in which tney were produced, and substi-
totes the historical- typological for the pneumatico-chnstological
interpretation of prophecy; in other words, he interprets all Old
Testament pai*sages historically in the first instance, and sees the
fulfilment ot Old Testament prophecy in the history of Christ and
Hifl church only m so far as tne entire Old Testament is a " shadow
of thmgs to como. " Following his master Diodorus, who had
already written a treatise Tip 5io0opd $fopplas Kcd iiW-nyoptosx
Theodore also was the author of a special dissertation against the
ftUegonsts. i.e., against Ongen and his followers, which, however,
has unfortunately perished. The comparative freedom of Theodore's
view of inspiration is also noteworthy. He discriminates between
historical, prophetical, and didactic writings, and in accordance with
this distinction assumes varying degrees of inspiration. Finally,
he entertained very bold opinions about the canon and several of
the books included in it. He esteemed very lightly the Solomonic
writings and the book of Job ; Canticles he explained as a nuptial
poem of Solomon's; the book of Job appeared to him in many
places hardly worthy of its subject, and he censu/es the wnter
sharply; Chronicles, Ezra, and Nehemiahhe entirely rejected, he
denied the accuracy of the titles of the Psalms, and relerred the
so-called Messianic element almost invariably to the kings of Israel ;
he even criticized the catholic epistles and rejected the .epistle of
James. His commentaries contain a great deal of learned matter,
and ha grammatico-histoncal observations are still to some extent
Useful. But, on the other hanrl, his learmng must not be over-
estimated. It falls behind that of Ongen. Eusebius, and Jerome,
notwithstanding the supenority of his method. It is specially
noticeable thai Theodore troubled hunself little about textual
criticism. He simply accepts the text of the LXX. as that of
revelation, and never manifest^ the slightest effort to control it by
the onginal or by the Synac.
But in addition to his commentanes Theodore also wrote extensive
dogma tico- polemical works, which wero destined to operate long
after his death disastrously for his fame. As a disciple of Diodorus,
Theodore accepted the hicene teaching on ihe doctnne of the
Trinity, but at the same time in chnstology took up a position
very closely approaching that of Paul of Sauiosata- The violence
of his opposition to his fellow countryman, ApoUinans of Laodjcea,
perhaps the most acute and far-seeing theologian of the century,
made it necessary for Theodore to formulate his chnstology with
precision (in tifteen books on the Incarnation — all lost except a few
fragments — and in special treatises against Apollinans). He held
the Logos to have assumed a complete manhood, which had to pass
through the stages of ethical development just as in the case of any
Other human being, (n this the Logos only supported the man
Chnst Jesus, but was not essentially connected with him; the Logos
dwelt in him (4}/otKctv). but any such thing as t i/wo-ii 0v(TiK-f) did not
and could not exist, because the finite is not " capax inhniti," and
because any tvoxns would have destroyed the reality of the human
nature. The same sober and thoughtful way of looking at things,
and the same tendency to give prominence to the moral element,
which characterize the commentan^'s oi Theodore appear also in his
dogmatic. When, accordingly, wtie Nestonan controversy broke
out, his works also were dragged into the discussion At Ephe-sus,
indeed, the memory of Theodore does not appear to have been
attacked,^ but soon afterwards the assault began. Manus Mercator,
Rabnlas of Edessa, Cyril, and other monophysites brought the
charge of heresy against his writings, and sought to counteract
their influence. But it was not until more than a century after-
wards that his fanatical adversanes succeeded — id apite of the
strong opposition of the best theologians of the West — in obtaining
from Justinian the condemnation of his works m the controversy
of the Tria Capitula, as it is called ; this act of the emperor was con-
firmed by the fifth CEcnmenical council, and Theodore's name was
accordingly deleted from the list of orthodox writers. From that
day Theodore's works ceased to be read within the Byzantine Church,
and hence have been lost. The Synans. on the other hand, have
always held in high esteem the memory of the great teacher, and
have even earned back their liturgy to his name. The Nestonans
possess, or possessed, a very large number of writings by him m
Synac translations.^
Theodore took part also in the Pelagian controversy at the time
when It raged in Palestine. In the treatise, only partially pre-
JSTved,' llpbs ToiPf Af70*'Toi <PviT(t Kai ov yvai^i^ irraiftv rov%
<^ -• - ■ ■ - ' ■ ■-..■■ I
I A confession, however, drawn op by blm was spoken of; lee Haho, Biblioth.
Itr Sifmhole, 2d ed.. p. 229 iq.
■ * Sec the camlotrae In Aesemanl, Biht. Or.. 11*. 1, p. 8 i?. ^
i • See Pbouiu, Biblioth., c. 177 ; Mr<-ator, p. 3d0 19., ed. Baloa: ,
iLv9pwirovs, 1 e sharply controverts the doctrine of original sin
and Jerome it^ advocate. In his view the theory of Augustine is
" a ne'w "heresy, " " a malady " ; he regarded it as a doctrine which
necessarily led to dualism and Manich;eism. The attitude thus taken
by Theodore is not surprising; be more nearly takes up the ground
of the old church doctrine aa set forth in the apologists and in the
great Greek fathers of the 3d and 4th centuries. The Pelagiana
driven from the East were received by him in Cilina.
A brother of Theodore, Polychronius by name, bishop of Apazxiea,
also achieved fame as an exegete, and expounded the theology of
the school of-^Antioch.*
lAterature.—iii^e.. FatroL.ser. Gr.. Ixvl. The Greek fraffmenta of Theodore's
New TestameoL commeniariea have been collected by Fritzsche (Theod. Mops, in
/f T. Comm,, Tuno, 1847). The cotnnicntaries on the I'aullny epistles (PltrSil
Spte. So/esm , 1. 49 sg.) hfive been recoRnized by Jacob! {Zticltr. /. ehrUtl.
Wis»ensc/i . 1H54) and Hurt (Jout~n. Gaa and Sacr. Phtlul., iv., 185:), p. 3tJ2 J?.),
and edited by JacobI (Halle Univprsiiy Proipamm, 1855-60). They liave alM) been
edited very admirably by Swete (Tfteod. A/ops. in Epp. B. Fault Comm., I., 11.,
Cambrtdee, l«t^0-«<2). alone with the GreeS fragments and the fragments of the
dogmatical writlnES 00 tiiis edition, eeo Schiirer, Theot. Lit. Ztg.. I8S0-62. The
comnieniary 00 the Minor Prophtta will be found In Mal'BiV'oB. Pntr, Biblioth.,
rlL lS54(WeCT)em, Berlin. 18:14; Mai, Script. Vet Nor. Coll., vl.,lH.t2). See aUo
Sachau. Theod. Mops. Fragm. Syrtaea, Letpalc. lSti9. and Bathgen. " Der Pealtnen-
commentar dea Theod v Mopa lo Syr. Bearbeltung," in Zttchr. f. ATdche
Wissenteh., v 53 tq. Exiracis from the writings of Theodoic occur tn the Calenx
at Maiiua Mercator, in the Acta 0/ the third and flith cecumenlcal coancUs, lo
FacnnJus. Liberatus. and Theodnre « chief adversary, Leonttua Byzantinua
The principal nionoffraph on Theodore, ap»n from the excellent prolcgoroeoa
of Sweie. Is ihat of Kihn (TA v Mops, b Junihua A/ric. ais Exegeten, Freiburg.
1S80). On his Imporiance for the history of dogma, see the great worfaa of Baur
and Domer, Upon the Antloch schoni in eeneral, compare Miinscher, Cornmera.
de Schola Aniioch . Copennapen. I^ih Herpenrother, IHe antxoch. Schule. 18G6;
and Kihn. Zh*; Bedeuiung der anltoeh Schule, Elchsiadt, 1866. Literary and
biographlcfll details will be found in Dopm, Tillemont, Cave, Fabriciaa, N'orie,
Gamier, Schrijckh. Alznu. see also Fntzsche. De Theod. Mops. Vita et ScriptU,
18;j»>; Sleffen. Tfteod. Mov V^i Text Sobrie Interpr. Vind,, Ratlsbon, 1827;
Klener, Symbol, lit ad. Theod M perlm., Gbttingen. 18.36; Specht, Theod. o.
Mop.i u. Tfieodoret, Munich. 1871 ; Kihn in the Tub Quartaltchr.. 1879; Nestle
in Theol. Stud am Wurufr.b . Ii 210 >tq. . and Batiffol, " Sur one Traduction Latlne
de Th. de Mops.." In Ann. de Fhilos. Chret., 1885. (A. HA.)
THEODORE, the name of two popes. Theodore I.,
pope from November 642 till May 649, succeeded Joha
IV He was the son of a bishop, and was born in Jera-
saiem. A zealous opponent of monothelitism, in the course
of the protracted controversy he m a Roman synod ex-
communicated Pyrrhus, patriarch of Constantinople, and
signed the document with ink mingled with consecrated
wine. Theodore IE. had a pontificate of only twenty days
(Nov.-Dec. 897).
THEODORET, bishop of Cyrus, and an important
writer in the domains of exegesis, dogmatic theology,
church history, and ascetic theology, was bom in Antioch,
Syria, about 390. At an early age he entered the cloister ;
and in 423 he became bishop of Cyrus, or Cyrrhus, a small
city between Antioch and the Euphrates, where, except for
a short period of exile, he spent all the rest of his life.
The date of his death is uncertain, but it must have been
at least six or seven years later than the council of Chal-
cedon (451). Although thoroughly devoted to the ideals
of monasticism, he discharged his episcopal duties vrith
remarkable zeal and fidelity. He was diligent in the cure
of souls, labouring bard and successfully for the conversion
of the numerous Gnostic communities and other heretical
sects which still maintained a footing within the diocese.
He himself claims to have brought more than a thousand
Marcionites within the pale of the church, and to have
destroyed many copies of th^- Diatessaron of Tatian, which
were still in ecclesiastical use; and he £^Iso exerted himself
to improve the diocese, which was at once large and poor,
by building bridges and aqueducts, beautifying the town,
and similar works.
A3 an exejTete Theodoret belongs to the Antiochene school, of
which Diodorus of Tarsus and Theodore of Mopsuestia were the
heads He was not actually the personal disciple of either, but
he adopted their methods, though without the consistency and
boldness of the first-named. His extant coramentaries (those on
Canticles, on the Prophets, on the book of Psalms, and on the
Pauline epistles — the last the most valuable) are among the best
performances of tho fathers of the church. They are brief, yet not
wanting in that element of practical edification on which Chrysostom
lays special weight as characteristic of the Antiochenes. In addition
to these complete commentaries, we have fragments of some others
(of that on Isaiah, for example), principally met with in catenser
There are also special elucidations of some difficult Scripture text&
4 See BaitleDbeoer, PoincJiromua, Fielhnrg, 1879.
256
T H E — T H E
Tlieodoret'8 chief importance ia as a dogmatic theologian, it
Jiaving fallen to his lot to take part in the grea» monophysite:
iiestorian controversy and to be the most considerable opponent
-of the views of Cyril and Dioscurus of Alexandria. For more than
twenty years he maintained the struggle against the Alexandrian
•dogmatic and its formulae {6for6Kos, 'ivtixns Ka.6' inroffraeiv, jxia
vv6ffraffis, fvuats (puffiK^, and the like), and taught that in the
j>erson of Christ we must strictly distingui?ih two natures {hypo-
^tasc3)i which are united incited in one person [prosopon), but arc
not amalgamated in essence. For these years his history coincides
with that of the Eastern Church from 430 to 451, and for this very
reason it is impossible to sketch it even briefly here (see Hefele, Cotic.-
^esch.^ Tol. ii.). The issue was not unfavourable to Theodoret's
cause, but melancholy enough for Thcodoret himself: the council
of Chalcedon condemned nionophysitism indeed, but he unhappily
yielded to pressure so far as also to take part in pronouncing
anathema upon Nestorius, and upon all who call not the Holy
Virgin Mother of God, and who divide the one Son into two." As
Theodoret had previously been a constant defender of Nestorius, it
was impossible for him to concur in this sentence upon his unfortu-
nate friend with a clear conscience, and in point of fact he did not
change his own dogmatic position. It is distressing, therefore, to
find him in his subsequent Epitome classing Nestorius as a heretic,
and speaking of him with the utmost hostility. Some of Theo-
doret's dogmatic works are no longer extant: of his five books
Tlfpl ivaifdpurriifffus, lor example, directed against Cyril after the
council of Ephesus, we now possess fragments merely. A good deal
of what passes under his name has been wrongly attributed to hira.
Certainly genuine are the refutation ('Ai-aTpoir^) of Cyril's twelve
iLvadf^aTiff/ioi of Nestorius, and the 'EpaviVTTjs, or Tlo\viJ.op<pos
(written about 446), consisting of three dialogues, entitled respect-
iTCly 'ATpeiTTor, 'Acrvyx^jros, and 'AvcOris, in which the monophys-
itism of C}Til is opposed, and its Apollinarian character insisted on.
Among the apologe tic o -dogmatic works of Theodoret must be
reckoned his ten discourses riepl irpovotas.
Theodoret gives a valuable exposition of his own dogmatic in
the fifth book of his Alpeniajs KaKOfivdlas ^-jriTO/iTf, already referred
to.^ This, the latest of his works in the domain of church his-
tor}'^ (it was written after 451), is a source of great though not of
primary importance for the history of the old heresies. In spite
of the investigations of Volkmar and Hilgenfeld, we are still some-
what in the dark as to the authorities he used. The chief un-
certainty is as to whether he knew Justin's Syntagma, and also as
to whether he had access to the PhilosophumcTia of Hippolytus in
their complete form. Besides this work Theodoret has also left us
a church histcj-y in fivo books, from 324 to 429, which was pub-
lished shortly before the council of Chalcedon. The style is better
than that of Socrates and Sozomen, as Photius has remarked, but
as a contribution to history the work is inferior in importance.
It is probable that its author was acquainted with the labours of
Socrates; he appears also to have used those of Philostorgius the
Arian, but not those of Sozomen. Something indeed still remains
to bo cleared up as to the sources he employed; apart, however,
from some documents he has preserved, relating to the Arian con-
troversy, ho does not contribute much that is not to bo met with in
Socrates. He made a thorough study of the writings of Athanasius
for the work. As regards chronology he is not very trustworthy;
on the other hand, his moderation towards opponents, not ejjcept-
ing Cyril, deserves recognition. The 'Z}\.\-nviKu:v Gfpavevnirj
■traOTjtidrcoy (De Curandis Orfecorum Affcdi&iiibiis)— written before
438 — is of an historical and apologetic character, very largely
indebted to Clement of Alexandria and Eusebius ; it aims at showing
the advantages of Christianity as compared with Hellenism, and
deals with the assaults of pagan adversaries. The superiority of
the Christian faith both philosophically and ethically is set forth,
the chief stress being laid on monachism, with which heathen
philosophy has nothing to compare. Much prominence is also
given to tho cult of saints and martyrs.
On this side of his character, however, Theodoret can best bo
studied in tho thirty ascetic biographies of his ^t\60fos icropra.
This coUeotion, which has been widely read, is a pendant to the
Uistoria Latisiaca of PaJladius and the monkish talcs of Sozomen.
For tho East it has had the same importance as the similar writings
of Jerome, Sulpicius.ScvGros, and Cassiaaus for tho West. Itshojvs
that tho "sobriety'" of the Aotiochene scholars can be predicated
only of their exegesis ; their stylo of piety was as exaggerated in its
<levotion to the ideals of monasticism as was that of their mono-
physitc opponents. Indeed, one of the oldest loaders of the school,
Diodorus of Tarsus, was himself among the strictest ascetics.
Noariy 200 letters of Theodoret hai'e come down to us, partly in
A separate collection, partly in tho Acta of the councils, and partly
in the Latin of-Marius Mcrcator; they are of great value not only
* Roman Catholic ■writers vary greatly in their estimate of Theodoret's
cliriEtology aod of his Reneral orthodoxy. On the latent essay on this
eubject, by Bertram (Theodordi, EpUcopi Cyrensis, Loclmia Chnsto-
K^ipca, Hildejheim, 1883), see TheoL lAt.-Ztung., 1883, 563 52.
for the biography of the writer but also for the history of his
diocese and of the church in geueial.
The edition of SIrmond (Paris, ltJ42) was afterwards completed by Gamier
(16S-i), who has also wrltteD dlwertations on tlie nutlior'a woiL^ Schulz^; and
*«"GsseU publiahcd a new edition (0 vols., H:ine, 1769-74) b&scd on t>iat cf their
predecessors; a glossary was afterwards cdded I'v Bauer. TiiC repnn' v 111 be
found In vols, lixi.-lxxiiv. of Mipne. and cotisiJersbie portions o^cur in KjjisI
Ecsides the earlier labours of TiUcmoDt. CeiHier. Oudin. Dn Pin, and Fabncitis
and Harless, see SchrocKh, Kircfungesch.. toU xvUi.; Hefele, Conc.-yeseh.. vol. il.;
ICichter, De Theodoreto Epp. Paul. Interpretc. Leipsic, 1822; Binder, £tudcs sur
Theodoret, Geneva, 1644; Stiudlin, Oesch.u. Lit.der A' iVfAenjcicA,, Hanover. 1827;
Kihn, Die Btdeutung der antioch. SchuU, 1^66; Dlestcl, Das A, T. in dev christt.
Kircfie. Jena, 1869; Specht, Theodor v. Alopsv^slia u. Theodcrei v. Cynu. Municli,
1871 ; Ko09, De Thtodorelo CiemenUs et Eusebii Compilatore. HuUe. 1883 ; Jt-ep,
Quellenuntersiich. 2. d. griech. Ktrchenhistonkem, Leipsic, 1884; and Mcillcr, an.
"Thcodoret," In Herzog-PIitt's RetUencykl., vol- .xv. (A. HA.)
THEODORIC, king of the Ostrogoths (c. 454-526>
Referring to the article Goxns for a general statement of
the position of this, the greatest ruler that the Gothic
nation produced, we add here some details of a more
pers )nal kind. Theodoric was born about the year 454,
and was the son of Theudemir, one of three brothers
who reigned over the East Goths, at that time settled
in Pannonia. The day of his birth coincided with the
arrival of the news of a victory of his uncle Walamir over
the sons of Attila. The name of Theodoric's mother was
Erelieva, and she is called the concubine of Theudemir.
Tho Byzantine historians generally call him son of
Walamir, apparently because the latter was the best
known member of the royal fraternity. At the age of
seven he was sent as a hostage to the court of Constan-
tinople, and there spent ten years of his life, which doubt-
less exercised a most important influence on his after
career. Shortly after his return to his father (about 471)
he secretly, with a contitatus of 10,000 men, attacked tbet
king of the Sarmatians, and wrested from him the import-
ant city of Singidunum (Belgrade). In 473 Theudemir,
now chief king of the Ostrogoths, invaded Mcesia and
Macedonia, and obtained a permanent settlement for his
people near Thessalonica. Theodoric took the chief part
in this expedition, the result of which was to remove the
Ostrogoths from the now barbarous Pannonia, and* to settle
them as "fcederati" in the heart of the emj)ire. About
474 Theudemir died, and for the fourteen following years
Theodoric was chiefly engaged in a series of profitless
wars, or rather plundtring expeditions, pattly against the
emperor Zeno, but partly against a rival Gothic chieftain,
another Theodoric, son of Triarius.- In 488 he set out
at the bead of his people to win Italy from Odoacer.
There is no doubt that he had for this enterprise the
sanction of the emperor, only too anxious to be rid cf so
troublesome a guest. But the precise nature of the rela-
tion which was to unite the two powers in the event of
Theodoric's success was, perhaps purposely, left va^e.
Theodoric's complete practical independence, combined
with a great show of deference for the empire, reminds us
somewhat of the relation of the old East India Company
to the Mogul dynasty at Delhi, but the Ostrogoth was
sometimes actually at war with his imperial friend. The
invasion and conquest of Italy occupied more than four
years (488-493). Theodoric, who marched round the
head of the Venetian Gulf, had to fight a fierce battle with
the Gepidffi, probably in the valley of the Save. At the
Sontius (Isonzo) he found his passage barred by Odoacer^
over whom he gained a complete victory (28th August
489). A yet more decisive victory followed on the 30th
September at Verona. Odoacer (led to Kavenna, and it
seemed as if the conquest of Italy was complete. It was
delayed, however, for three years by tho treachery of
Tufa, an officer who had deserted from the service of
Odoacer, and of Frederic the Rugian, one of the com-
panions of Theodoric, as well as by the intervention of the
Burgundians on behalf of Odoacer. A sally was made
^ In one of the intervals of friendship with tVie eu:peror in 483
Theodoric was made master of the hou£chold troops and in 484 coumiL ^
T H E — T H E
257
from Ravenna by tbe besieged king, who was defeated
in a bloody battle In tho Pine Wood At length (26tli
February 493) the long and severe blockade of Ravenna
\sas ended by a cajjitulation, the terms of ubicli Theodoric
diicraccfully violated by slaying Odoacer with his own
hand (I'xh March 493). See Odoacer .
The thirty three years' reign of Theodoric was a time of
unexampled bap|iinoss for Italy Unbroken peace reigned
within her borders (with the exception of a trifling raid
made by Byzantine corsairs on the coast of Apulia in
508). The venality of the Koman officials and the turbul
ence of the Gothic nobles were sternly repressed. Marshes
were drained, harbours formed, tho burden of the taves
lightened, and the slate of agriculture so much improved
that Italy, from a corn imporling, became acorn exporting
country. Moreover Theodoric, though adhering to tho
Arian creed of liis forefathers, was during the greater part
of his reign so conspicuously impartial in religious matters
that a legend which aftcr«.-\rds became current represented
him as actually putting to death a catholic deacon who
had turned Arian in order to win his favour. /\.t the
time of the contested papal election between Symmacbus
and Laurentius (496-502), Theodoric's mediation was
welcomed by both contending parties. Unfortunately, at
the very close of his reign (524), the emperor Justin's
persecution of the Arians led him into a policy of repri-
sals. He forced Pope John to undertake a mission to
Constantinople to plead for toleration, and on his return
threw him into prison, where he died. Above all, he
sullied his fame by the execution of Boetius and Sym-
machus (see Boetius). It should be observed, however,
that the motive for these acts of violence was probably
political rather than religious, jealousy of intrigues with
the imperial court rather than zeal on behalf of the Arian
confession Theodoric's death, which is said to have been
hastened by remorse for the execution of Symmacbus,
occurred on 30lh August 526. He was buried in the
mausoleum which is still one of the marvels of Kavenna
(q v), and his grandson Atbalaric, a boy of ten years, suc-
ceeded him, under the regency of his mother Amalasuntha.
Genealogy of Thcofloric.
Theddemir= Erclieva.
d 474 I
A flr^l wife = TBSopnRic = Audoflean,
or a I 4M-5.'fi pister of Clovis,
concubine | king ol ttic Frnnki.
I
Ostrofrolho
(or Arev.igni),
married
Alarif 11 ,
klnl* C'l Ihe
West Cotba
I
Am«l.inc,
hinc of the
Wesr Gothsi.
d £31
I
Thcuilcpotho.
married
kinp of ihe
Bur^uuilians.
I
murdirrcd
by his
lather's
orders. 52?
Amalasittpa ^ Fuiharif.
d 634 I a drscMidant
of the Amuls.
I
I
ATHAtAitic Witigi3=MAT*aUEjiTKA=GrrmHnu8.
d W4 j nf-iilic* of
Juglinmn
Grnnanus Po^tumiis.
("tt.IudcfttU l.y
Amalafnda. a full sister of Theodoric. mnrfHed''Rlff-«iimui>^. king til the
Vandals, and was tnothcr. l>y an earlier marriaee. of Tlifodal.ad ..d. &3e).
AuihrriJics —The authorities for the life of Th<nil(,ric are very
lin[Krfctl Jerilanes. rrun.|iius. and llie curious frainiciit knrmii
as Ali'inymin Viili.»ii (|irinli>.tat theemiof AinrTiianu?Marrilliniis)
arc Ihe chief ilirer t sourtcs nf narrative, but far the most imjiort.int
iudirect .«nurcp is the y^inx (slate (lapers) of Cassiojorus, iliiel
nitnibter of Tln-oilonc Makhus furnislies some iiitercitiup [,;ir
lirulir; .-ui to his >-arly life, and it is |lo^5ll.lo to exlract a lilllu
infoini.it ion from the fur^id I'.ineoyric of Enriodiiis. Among
German sihnl.iis P.-ihri [Ktmnjr iter O- r^'umm, it, ni , and iv ).
Mansn {O'Mhnhu fff^ (tsfqi-llnsrhrtt Hfich$ in IfJi/iru), and S.iiloriiiii
( yrniich uli-r iJu Rripcrxi-ng tl.r (l~lti,,lhcn, kc ) have done most to
iUuntrate TlieodnrKS |iniKi|.h-sof povernment The F.rioh>,h readei
mavoonsull IJihlion's Z)cr;i7if aWKiW, I haf xtxix ..iiid llod^^klli's
Italyond hfr liiiwtrrs,yo\ in ,inti LftUr^"/ Cns^H/ihnni (T II )
THEODOSIA, or Kaffa. a sc«|iorl and district town
r-f K0H.SU1, situated on the east coast of Crime^i, C'J miles
ij the caal northeast of Simplicrnpul. Its roadstead,
which has a width of 18 mues and is never frozen, is well
protected from east and west winds, and partly also from
the south, but its depth is small, ranging from 11 to 14
feet and reaching 35 feet only in the middle. The want
of railway communication with the interior prevents it
from gaining the commercial importance it might otherwise
have possessed, so that its population was only 10,800 in
ISt^l, — a low figure when compared with the 20,000 it
bad in 1672 and still more with tlie figure returned in last
century. Many remains of its former importance exist
in thQ city and neighbourhood, the chief being a beauti-'
ful mosque — formerly a Genoese cathedral — synagogues
several centuries old, old towers with injcri|ptions, baths,
and a palace of Shall Uhirei in the suburbs Gardening is
one of the leading industries , fishing, a few manufactures,
agriculture, and trade are also carried on The foreign
trade, which in 1830-40 reached an average of X90,000
for exports and X6G,500 for imports, afterwards fell off,
but it has experienced a revival in the course of the last
15 years, the exports of corn, linseed, and wool having
reached X167,853 in 1884. The imports arc insignificant
Theodosia, a Milesian colony, was in Siuho's djy a flourishing
seat of trade te-specially in grain) wiih a haihour c.t|uble of accooi
modatiug a hundred ships; hut before Airi.in's lime (c 125 A D )
it appears to have been destroyed. More lh,in a thousand years
later (1263 to 12G7) the Genoese cstnbli-hcd heic Ihi-ir colony Kafa
or Kefa, which grew rapidly up iiotuitlistnn.Iiiip iho iivalry of the
Venetians. It was fortified, anti bec.-inie the see of a bishop, as
Well as the chief centre for the tieiioese colonies on Ihe Black Sea
coasts. It remained nearly iridi pendent until 1475. when it v\-as
taken by the Turks, but it coitliiiued" to prosper under their rule,
under the name of Kutcliuk Slainbiil, or Kiyon Siambul (Stanibui
of Crimea). The Russians took it in 1771. and annexed it in
1774. From that date it began to decay, and had only 3200
inhabitants in 1829, the emigration of the Crimean Tartars
and the competition of Odessa being obstacles to its further
growth
THEODO^IUS I., emperor of Rome, surnamed the
Great, was the son of Theodosius, Valcnlinian's great
general, who in 368-69 drove back the Picts and Scots
from the Roman territories in Britain, and, after olhei
successes on the Continent, was at last despatched to sup-
press the revolt of Firmus in Mauretania (372) Shortly
after (376), the elder Theodosius, despite bis great services,
was put to deatti by order .-■f Valens, probably through
fear lest he should be the Theodosius or Theodore whom
the prophetic tripod indicated as the future em|peror
The younger Theodosius was born about the year 346
He was a native of Spain, but the exact place of his birth
is uncertain (Cauca in Oaliuia according to Idatius and
Zosimus, Italica according to Marctllinus). Pacatus and
Claudian seein to claim for him at least a relationship
to Trajan, of which, however, there is no satisfactory
proof. He accompanied his father into Britain (368),
and a little later distinguished himself by defeating the
Sarniatians who had invaded Ma-sia (374) On his
father's death he retired to h's native place, where he
lived quietly till after the great battle of Adriaiiople
(August 9, 378), when Oratian summoned hini to share
the empire. Theodosius was made Augu.--tus at Sirniiuni,
January 1 9, 379, and was assigned all the Eastern proviucis,
including lllyiKiim It «as a lirie of great [leril for itie
Roman stale The Huns had just made their appearamo
on the wastern shores of the Black Sea, and, alter over-
throwing the great nation of the Ostrogoths, bad driven the
more southern Visigoths to take shelter within the einpiie.
Valens had consented to receive them (i<76) on condition
that they should deliver uji their arms and surrender their
children as hostages to lie distributed throughout' the
cities of the East. The latter half of the compact was
enforced, but not the former ; and the barbarians, left with
out any sustenance, began to plunder the open country.
After thjir great victory at Adrianople they reached the wall*
XXIII. - 33
258
THEODOSIUS
of Coastantinople, whence they were driven back by the
valour of a band of Saracens. Meanwhile the Ostrogoths,
the Taifali, the Huns, and the Alans had all crossed the
JJanube to share the spoils of the empire , and it was
against this motley host that Theodosius had to contend.
He appears to have gained some successes even before his
elevation to the empire (Theodoret, v 5, 6), and shortly
after this retired to Thessalonica to organise his forces.
He breathed courage into what remained of the Roman
army, and summoned the very miners to his standard.
But his chief reliance was placed in certain bodies of the
Ooths whom he had enrolled in his service. These, under
their royal leader Modares, gained at least one decisive
victory, probably in the course of 379. From the unchron-
©logical account of a later writer, Zosiuius, to whom we
owe almost all the details of 'I'beodosius's early campaigns,
we may infer that in the course of this year or the next
Kritigern and his Visigoths were gradually driven across
the Danube, where they seem to hav&njet with the Ostro
goths who had shared their fate. For a time tbe united
nations turned their energy against the Western empire, till
they forced Ciratian to grant them leave to settle in Pan
noma and Moesia. Before setting out on their new journey
they perhaps combined their forces to attack Alhanaric,
who had retreated with his section of the Visigoths into
the wilds beyond the Danube at the time of the Uunnish
invasion. Unable to withstand their onset, Athaoaric
ofiered his services to Theodosius, and was received into
Constantinople with every mark of favour, 11th January
381 Fifteen days later he died, and was honoured by
the emperor vilh a splendid funeral, while his followers
faithfully discharged the duty of guarding the Danube.
In the two preceding years Thessaly and Macedonia
had been swept by the barbarians. On one occasion the
emperor himself barely escaped from their hands in a
midnight attack which they had been induced to make by
the sight of his blazing watchfires , on another the united
forces of the Ostrogoths and Visigoths crossed the Danube
with the design of pillaging Greece. In his efforts against
the invaders Theodosius was ably seconded by his colleague
Oratian, who despatched his Frankish officers Baudo and
Arbogastes to drive the enemy out of Macedonia and
Thessaly (380), and, while Theodosius lay sick at Thes
salonica, made such terms with them as the latter emperor
was glad to accept on his recovery. A little later, presum-
ably towards the middle of 381, Proniotus, Theodosius's
lieutenant, inflicted a terrible defeat on a niotley host that
was attemptiug to cross the Danube. This was perhaps
the decisive battle in the war ; and we read that on October
3, 382, all the remaining Goths in the empire submitted
to Theodosius. Many of them appear to have entered the
Roman army as " fuederati "; and indeed, from the very
commencement of his reign, Theodosius seems to have pur
sued a consistent policy of enrolling the Gothic warriors.
At times they accepted bis gifts while meditating treachery
in their hearts , and Eunapius has preserved tbe story of
bow Fravitta, the leader of the faithful party, slew with
his own hands his dishonest colleague Eriulf at a banquet
in the emperor's own tent. Zosimus has charged Theo-
dosius with burdening the provinces with excessive duties
for tbe purpose of maintaining a host of useless barbarian
officers, while the comiuon soldiere were left unpaid. These
barbarian troops, according to the same writer, often
treated the Roman citizens with the utmost indignity, and
on more than one occasion provoked a retaliation for which
the emperor refused to see any excuse. They were not,
however, all quartered in one place, but received into the
legions , while others were sent to Egypt. On the whole,
it may be said that his policy of attaching the invaders
to hiaiself was tbe salvation of tne empire ; it was they
who bore the brunt of the battle of the Frigidus ; and
the knowledge of tbe emperor's good faith towards the
Teutonic au.^iliaries in his service must have contributed
largely to the defection of Eugenius'i army on the same
occasion.
In 383 Theodosius created his eldest sou Arcadiua
Augustus.- The same year saw the' revolt of Maximus
in Britain and the murder of Gratian (August 25, 383).
For five years Theodosius consented to accept the usur-
per as his colleague , but, when Maximas, flushed with
success, atlempt'=d a few years later to make himself
master of Italy, which, since the sudden death of Valen-
tinian I (17th November 375), had been governed ander
the name of his young sou Valentiuiun II., Theodosius
advanced against ti,e invader and overthrew him near
Aquileia ("JSth July 388) T'.is victory was followed by
the murder of Maximus and his sou Victor, after whoso
death Theodosius conferred upon Valentiniau II. all that
part of the empire which hu father had held. Theodosius
is .said to have been induced to take this campaign by his
love for Valentioian's sister Galla, whom be now married.
Meaowhile there had been fresh dangers from the Goths.
In 3s0 another band of the Grotthingi or Ostrogoths,
attempting to cr^ss the Danube, was cut off by Promotus.
The .same general, in the course of the next two years,
punished the barbarians who had desarted Theodosius at
the beginning of the campaign against Maximus. Such
signal services as these, though coupled with the fact that
he had saved the emperor's life, did not prevent Promotus
from falling a victim fo the intrigues of the favourite
Rufinus, who is charged by Zosimus with compassing the
death of other noble men. If we may trust the evidence
of the last mentioned historian, from the end of the year
388 Theodosius resigned himself to gluttony and volup-
tuous living, from which he was only roused by the news
that, in the Western einpiie, Aibogastes the Frank had
slain the young emperor Valentinian and set up the
grammarian Kugenlus in his stead (15th May 392)
Into the curious history of the short lived pagan revival
in the Western empire there is no need to enter here.
Zosimus assures us that the tears of Galla threw the
whole court into confusion , but tbere can be little doubt
that to a religious, if not superstitious, mind like that of
Theodosius it might well have seamed that be was fighting
the battles of Cod, as he led his army of the cross against
an enemy on whose standard shone the image of Heicules
(Theodoret, v 24). His host consisted partly of Romans
and partly of barbarians. Timasius was leader of the
former, but under him was ranged the more renowned
Stilicho , the latter were led by Gainas the Coth and Saul
the Alan. The engagement uas fought near the rivet
Frigidus, some thiity six miles distant from Aquileia On
the first day Theodosius's baibarians, ei 'aging with those
of the hostile army, were almost destroyeO, and the victory
seemed to be with Eugenius. Aftei a night of prayer,
towards cock-crow the emperor was cheered by a vision of
St Philip and St John, who, mounted oo white steeds,
promised him success. With the morning he received
and accepted the offer of service on behalf of the enemy's
ambush, and once more advanced to the conflict. But
even so, the issue of the day was doubtful till, if we may
trust the concurrent testimouy of all the great contem
porary church historians, a sudden gust of v-ind blew back
the enemy's arrows on tLemselves. This was the turning-
point of the battle . Eugenius was slain by the soldiers ,
and two days late: Arbogastes committed suicide (Sep-
tember 5-9, 394). From the novth-eastern parts of Italy
Theodosius passed to Rome, where he had his son Honorius
proclaimed emperor under the guardianship of Stilicho.
Thence he retired to Milan, where he died of dropsy (17tb
THEODOSIUS
259
January 395), leaving the empire'to be divided between
his two sons Honorius and Arcadius, — Honorius becoming
emperor of Rome and the West, Arcadius of Constan-
tinople and the East.
Important, howerer, ^ the reign of Theodosius was from the
)x>litical point of view, it is perhaps still more important from
the theological According to Sozoraen, his parents were both
orthodox Christians, accoraing to the creed sanctioned by the
coancil of Nicxea. It was not, however, till his illness at Thes-
salonica that the emperor received baptism at the hands of
BishoD Ascholius, whcn*uiion, says the same historian, he issued* a
decree" (February SSO) in favour of the faith of St Peter and Pope
I^unasos of Rome. This was to be the t! ue catholic faith ; the
tdherents of other creeds were to be reckoned as heretics and
punished. The great council of Constantinople, consisting of 150
orthodox and 36 Macedonian bishops, met in the following year,
confirmed the Nicene faith, ordered the affairs of the various sees,
and declared the bishop of Constantinople to rank next to the
bishop of Rome. The emperor cannot be acquitted of the intoler-
ance which marks edicts such as that depriving apostatizing
Christians of the right of bequest It was not till 3S9 or 390 that
he issued orders for the destruction of the great idol of Serapis at
Alexandria. Other edicts of an earlier or later date forbaae the
onorthodox to hold assemblies in the towus, enjoined the surrender
of all churches to the catholic bishops, and overthrew the heathen
temples " throughout the whole world. " During the reign of Theo-
dosios Gregory of Nazianzus was made bishop of Constantinople —
an appointment which be did not long retain. In 3S3 Theodosius
called a new council for the discossion of the true faith. The
orthodox, the Arians, the Etmomians, and the Macedonians all sent
champions to maintain their special tenets before the emperor, who
finally decided in favour of the orthodox party. He seems to have
rafiei^d the Novatians to hold assemblies in the city. Perhaps
the most remarkable incident Ia the life of Theodosius from a
personal point of view is the incident of his submission to the
reprimands of Ambrose, who dared to rebnke him and refuse to
admit him to the Lord's Supper till he had done public penance for
suffering his Gothic auxiliaries to murder the townsmen of Thessa-
looica (390). Equally praiseworthy is the generous pardon that the
emperor, after much intercession, granted to the seditious people of
Antioch, who, out of anger at the growing imposts, had beaten down
the imperial statues of their city (3S7). When the Christians in
the eastern part of the empire destroyed a Jewish synagogue and a
church belonging to the Valentinians, Theodosius gave orders for
the offenders to make reparation. Such impartial conduct drewforth
& remonstrance from Ambrose, who, where^e interests of his creed
Kas concerned, could forget the common principles of justice. In
a sermon preached before Theodosius he introduced the Deity Him-
self holding an argument against Theodosius on the subject of
bis remissness, and the imperial penitent yielded to the eloquent
bishop. So pliant a disposition rendered him very dear to the
saint, who availed himself of his in&uence to counteract the efforts
of Symmachns and the Roman senate for the restoration of tho
pagan rites at the altar of victory. "I loved the man," savs St
Ambrose, " who, putting off his kingly robes, mourned publitiy in
the church a sin to which the gnile of others had exposed him, — an
emperor who thought it no shame to dc an act of public penance
tl.at even private people would have blushed to perform." The
inspired ^-ision of the saint saw the deceased emperor received into
heaven by his old colleague Gratian; while Maiimus and Eugenius
down ia hell were already experiencing how grievous a sin it is to
take up arms against lawful princes (Ambrose, De Obitu, ThcocL).
Theodosius was tviice married — (1) to .Clia Flacilla, the mother
of Arcadius (377-408) and Honorius (3S4-J23); (2) to GaUa (d.
394). the daughter of Vaientinian I. _ ~
I . The chi^ aothorltjes for t^e age of Theod^«ias are Ammianns Marcelllnos,
Zo9lnias. Eanapius. and Ihe ecelesjastiral hb^-^rians (S'^rrates. Soz'^rnen. Theo.
doret) Much inforraation may also b,; eleaoe-I from tlie wiitinj^a o( Si Ambrose,
Sc Creeory of Nazianiuj, Istdore of SevtUe. and the oratora lacAtu^ Llbaniu^^
ThcnjisMQs. Of modern aatbonUea 'nilemont supplies an anrivaUed collectioa
of facta dniy rollect^ from all coDtempofar>- or nearly contemporary ^arce^;
he ta tpecaJiy osefuJ for his synopses of the Th^^Moaian taws. Clinton's Paili
are the best fmtde for the cnronoloicy of tiie p^rlud It Is hardly nece?sary to
mention the briliiant account given by Gibbon, or. In later years, fiom the stand-
potot of Italian history by Mr Uodgkln. (T. A. A.)
THEODOSIUS II. (401-450) succeeded his father Ar-
Eadius as emperor of the East in 40S. During his minority
the empire was ruled by the prtetorian prefect Anthemius
and Pulcheria, who became her brother's guardian in
414. Under his sister's caro the young emperor was
brought up rather as a virtuoso than a prince. Tho chief
events of Theodosius's reign are the wars with Persia in
421 and 441, the council of Ephesus (134), and the inva-
sion of the Huns under Attila (441-44S). In 450 Theo-
dosioe wsa^thrown frqmjiis^horse^while hunting, and je^
ceived injuries from which he died. "He married Alhenais,
who on ^Ing baptized took the name of Eudocia. It
was ;during his reign that the Codex Theodasianus, or
collection of the constitutions of the Roman emperors,'
was formed. ,The idea took birth as early as 425, but
was only put into execution between 435 and^3S ,"^ii^
the latter year the Code was published.
THEODOSIUS III. was tho last of three-emperors
whose short reigns filled the interval between the death of
Justinian II. and the accession of Leo the Isaurian. The
emperor Anastasius- had sent a fleet to frustrate the in-
tended expedition of the Saracens from Alexandria against
Constantinople. On reaching Rhodes the troops rose
against their leader, John the Deacon, slew him, and, start-
ing for Constantinople, landed at Adramyttium, where
they made a collector of the taxes emperor by the title
o! "Theodosius III. The new emperor besieged Constan-'
tinople for six months before he took it ; Anastasius
resigned, and retired to a monastery, leaving his place to
be filled by Theodosius UL, who likewise resigned next
year (717) in favour of Leo EH. The closing year8_of
Theodosius's life were spent in a monastery.
THEODOSIUS, of Tripolis, a Greek geometer'^and
astronomer, three of whose works were contained in the
collection of lesser writings named 'O fiucpos dorpovo-
liov/uvK (sc. tovck), or "O /uxpo^ dcrrpovo/ios. ' Pappus of
Alexandria, at tbe commencement of the sixth book of his
Suvoytiryi}, speaks of this collection, the study of which is
indispensable to any one who would master the science of
astronomy (rov turrpovoftoi.'^evoi' toitov). These writings,
which were highly esteemed in the school of Alexandria,
were intermediate between the Elements of Euclid and
the Almagest of Ptolemy, for the understanding of which,
indeed, they formed an indispensable introduction. Of
the life of Theodosius nothing is known. As to the
time when he lived different opinions have been held, he
being placed by some in the first centurj' before and by
others in the second century after the Christian era. The
latter opinion is founded on an error of Suidas (s.w.), who
on the one hand identifies the author of the three works
referred to above with a sceptical philosopher of the same
name who lived at the time of Trajan or later, and on the
other hand distinguishes him from a native of Tripolis
who wrote a poem on spring. It is now generally
admitted that the subject of this article is the same as
Theodosius the mathematician, who is mentioned by
Strabo amongst the natives of Bithj-nia distinguished foi
their learning, and whose sons were also mathematicians,'
the same, too, as the inventor of a universal sunJial
{horologium irpo^ jrav nkifio) of that name who is
praised by Vitruvius (De Architectura, ix. 9). His date,
therefore, could not have been later than the 1st century
B.C.; he may, however, have lived in the preceding cen-
tury, inasmuch as the names mentioned by Strabo in the
passage referred to above are, as far as we know, arranged
chronologically, and Theodosius immediately follows Hip-;
parchus, who made astronomical observations between 161:
and 12G B.C., and precedes Asclepiades the physician, whQ
lived at Rome at the beginning of the 1st centurj- b.c.'^
The statement that he was "of Tripolis" is made, nol
on the authority of Suidas, as has been erroneously said,'
but because he is so described in the title of his principal
work. It is probable, therefore, that he was a native of
* This collection contained the following books : — '' Theodosii Tri-
politae SpkimKirum libn iii. ; Endidis Data, Optica, Catoptrica, ac
Pijenorr^ena ; Theodosii Tripolitc Dt UabUationiims et ^octiinu ac
Didnta libri iL ; Aatolyci Pitanaii De Sphara Mola, et Ubri ii. De
Ortu aitfue Occaau StiUarum Inerranlium ; Aristarchi Samii De
Ma^iiudinibus ac Distantiis Solii ac Lunm ; Hypeiclij Alexandrinl
'Aya^opiichs rive De Ascensumibus ; Menelai *SpA«ricoruffi„libri_Jii."4
;^Fabrtcias..£v4to)tA<co fjrsca. ed. Harles, l»._p._10.j
mo
T H E — T H E
r>ithynia, and resided at Tn'polis, where he wrote his work
Tnpolis is generally taken to be the city of that name on
the I^lianiician coast, but it may have been a town of the
same name in Lydia, on the Meander.
Histhief work— S^aipiKo, in three books — treats of tlie properties
of the sphere and its sections, with tlie object of cstablishuig the
geoin'tiical principles of spliencal astionuiiiy. Tliis work, which
is cl^iiical, 13 distinguishuJ for the onltT and tlcarness of tlic
exposition as well as tur the rigour of its prpofs, and has ever since
formed tho basis on which the subject of spherical geometry lias
been treated. It does not contain any trace of spherical trigono-
metry,"which, on iho other hand, was the special subject of tho
work having the same title, and included in the .same cuilection, of
Mcnelausoi" Alexandria, wiio lived at the end of the 1st century
MoDtucla suspected that a great part of the three buuks of
Theodosius must have been known before liis time, and that he
merely did witli icsiwct to this branch of geometry what Euclid
had done with the elements, namely, he collected and incorporated
in his work tho ditfercnt propositions found before his time by
asS-onomcrs and geometers. This conjecture of Moutucla has been
confirmed by A. Nokk (L/ebcr die Sphank dcs Theodosius, Karls-
ruhe, 1S47), by Heiberg {LiUcrargeschiciitlichc Sivdicn uher Euklxd,
pp. 43 5<7. , Leipsic, 1882), and by Hultsch, from whose researches, and
especially owing to the publication by tho last of the cdilio pnnceps
of Antolycus, it is n«w quite certain that as early as tlie middle of
tho 4th century d.c. thero existed a Greek text-book on Spherics
wliich, in its essential contents, scarcely deviated from the three
books of Theodosius. Ho must therefore be regarded as merely
tho editor, or at most the olaborator and expounder, of a doctrine
which existed some centuries before him.
The Spherics of Tlieodoslus wns tronslatcd Into Arabic ftt the bcglnnlnR of tho
lOtii century, and fiom thu Aiatiic into LhIIii in rhe 12th century by IMato of
VivoU (Tiburlinus), This tiflnslalion was published In 1518 at Venice, but wua
fnund 81) faulty by J Vocgi-llnus thai be published a new Latin version, together
with addlttuns frum the Aiabian coranjfniaEora, Vienna. 1529, 4to; other Lntln
translations wcic published by K Mauiolycus, Mossiiin, 1.^58,fol.; by C. Clavlus,
Itoine. 1580,410. and by Hnrro*/ under thu title. ihtfOdoBil Spftivrica, S/e(hodo
A'oi'O I'lusrrata et Succtnelf DemonHrala, Ix-ndon, 167:.. 4to 1 he Greek text was
firat published, and utili It n Lutin iianslailon, by J. I'c'in, Puns. 155S. 4to ; ii
lias Jjcen edited since by Joseph Hunt. Oxford. U07, and by E Ni7,eq. rieilin,
iS55, but Iheie t»o edilloni me founiled un that of Prno. There Is also a Gonnnti
IransUlion by NiZ7-e, Stnilsund. 182G Ills two editions are aeroinpanled with
vbIduIiIc notes and an appendix conialning additions (lom Voeijellnus and otheis,
The two oihci uuiks u( Thcoilo^ius which hnve come do>vn to ua liave not aa
yet been published in ihe oHcnal The piopo>*Uioni>. wUhuul demonstrations, in
the work Tr«p. i\ti^t(nuv •tat ci/wrwv {On Onyi and yights). In two books, were Riven
iiy DasypOfliiis, in Gici'k and Lulin, in his Sji/ia:iifx Docfiuia f'ropottlxonet,
Stiasburi:, 1^72, Rvo A Ltilin vt-rsion of the cotnpleto work, with ancient trfiolta
uiid tlt;uieH. was plvt-n by Joseph Auna. Homo. 1591. 4to I'appus has Riven
ft pietiy full commentary on tho first book of this woih of Theodosius. His work
Rtpc o'iAritr*tuv {Un //nhitottims^ also was published by Aona, Kome. 1588. U
^:ivl3 An account o( how, fm every inhabUunt of the enrih from Iho cquatoi to the
pole, the siaify Himumciil presenis iisi If In the course of a year. The propoal-
cions In it wen- also ijivcn by D.'S) podtus in Ins work monUoned above.
THEOGNIS OF Megara was one of the early Greek
elegiac poets , he probalily flourished about the middle of
the Cih century B c. We derive our knowledge of his life
from the poems that bear his name. After the fall of
riieagencs, who bad madu hinust^lf tjTant of Megara about
020. the usual struggles betwt;v.'n oligarchy and democracy
ensued Theognis was a vjolt;nt partisan of the oligarch-
loa! faction, in his native town, and wrote elegies in
which he gave ex[iression to the emotions roused in hiin
by the varying phases (d tho struggle. He appears on one
occasion to have lost hi>. properly (verse 345) and been
vlriven into exile ptrhaps it was then that be visited
Sicily, Eubcca, and Sparta (733 57) In the end — if we
may trust 1 123 57 — he returned to Megara, and lived, at
least for a time, in .something like pro&pcrity The dtite
of his death ia unkaowo. The vers*:^ handed down to us
under the name of Theognis amount in all to 13^0 Not
a few of them arc ascribed on the evidence of the ancients
to Tyrtxus, Mimnernua, and Solon , modern ciiticism haa
made it probable that two of the longei eli;gie:) are from
the hand of Evenus (4G7-49G and OG7-GtiO), other
fragments are demonstrably later tban Theognis It is
now generally admitted that the TkfO'jnidva were put
together long after Theognis— possibly even as late as the
4th century b C — by some comjuler who wished to provide
a good collection of moral maxims for educational pur-
poses. To separate the genuine fragments of Theognis
from those which were ascribed to him by the reverence of
a later age is a hopeless task
The collection is divided into two books. The first, which is
addressed to a youth called Cyrnus, or Polypa;dcs, opuns with ft
spirited invocation of Apollo and Artemis, along with the Muses
and the Graces (vv. 1-1«), then fuUuws a passage which has been
much discussed in conuexion with the early history ol willing,
recommending Cyrnus to set a se.nl upon the .luthyia Vi.ibes, to
prevent forgers from passing oil si>Ufious lines under liis iianic (see
jcvous, IJist. of Greek Lit., p. 46). \Viih verse 27 begins a sciics
of counsels to Cyrnus. On the whole they are lumarkable neither
for loftiness of lone nor for poetic elevation Cyrnus is couuM'llcd
to avoid " tho bad " and fre-iuent the society of " tlie good " nien —
the terms "good" and "bad" being used to dcnolo aristocrats
and democrats, just as koa6i Kaya86i meant an oli-^arch lu the later
days of the Pelopounesian Wqt 8">nietinies the viukiice of party
feeling leads Theognis beyond all bounds, as when he prays that
he may "drink the black blood *' of his op|>onenis (3-iy , */. 3;37-
339 and 361). One striking feature tn these elegies is the continual
refrain about the evils of povirty. "To avoid puverty one should
even throw oneself into tho vasty deep, 01 froni the beciliiig rocks "
(175-176, cf. 266 5?., 351 $q , and 649 $q ) hisewlure the poet
reproaches Zeus with allowing evil men to prosper, and alllicting
tlie good (373 sq.)\ he also complains that the puinshnicnt duo
to wicked men often falls upon their sous (731 5-/.). A pleasing
feature is the high value which is placed upon friendship, one is
not to part with a friend lightly, or upon dome slight oicasiun of
displeasure (323 sq.). At the same time no one knows better than
Theognis how quickly friends fail one in adversity (299-300). Life
has on the wholo few charms lor our poet "the best thing for
man is not to be born or look U|)on the rays of the suift sun , once
born it is best for him to pass aa soon as|>ossiblf the gates oi death,
and lie with a great barrow of earth above hiiu" (425-429). The
prevailingly sad tone of the elegies is occasionally broken by a
convivial note. "It is shameful," says the poet, "to be drunk
when others are sober, or sober when othord are drunk" {626-
627); "among the uproarious I am very uproarious, but among
the proper 1 nni the piopcrest of men " (313-314). Tho only elegy
which possesses any considcnible poetic merit in the tirst book is
that in which Theognis [iredicts immortality for his young friend
through llic fame aw.iiung his own poema The second book
(1231-1389) consists of a number of amatory elegies addressed to
some young friend of the author's. In vigour and harmony of
versification they are on the whole superior to the first twuk ; but
most if not all of thvni are probably spurious.
Ucrgk. Poelj; Lyrtei Orart. ii IU-23C. Ltjpslc. 1SS2 ,
THEOLOGY
fhf wnvri
iheology
.'n Ihe
rPHb; wora theology comes from u heatben source —
i from tlie Oruek classics. In the Republic of Plato
;irnl ibe Meid/i/it/nrg of Aristotle it occurs, and in its
etymological me,ining of "discourse or doctrine con-
cerning Deity and Divine things" — Xoyo? TrtfA tou 6<oZ
Koi jrcpi Tiiv Otiuiv Men who wrote about the gods and
their doings, or who speculated about the Divine in tlie
origination and operations of nature — men like Ilortier,
llesiod, I'huiecydes, and Thales, — were called OfuKoym
Hut there could, of course, be no theological science based
(in the popular religion of Greece. Theology was only to
be found among the Greeks in the form of philosophical
.speculation Through St Augustine we know that Varro,
" the most learned of the Romans," distinguished tbret
kinds of theology, — the first mythical or fabulous, the
second physical or natural, and the third tivil or popular
The inylbical theology he censured as containing many
tilings contrary to the dignity and nature of immnrtal
beings, the natural theology bo described as that which is
true but beyond tho capacity of the vulgar , the civil
theology ho considered to be that which it was good for
the citizens to believe — the received religion of Rome.
The general attitude of the Greek and Roman mind to
religion was unfavourable to the cultivation of theology.
lieligioQ being dissociated id thought from truth could
not give rise to w><enc«.
THEOLOGY
261
in tbo
r«then ;
1- '.ho
Middle
1 ':cr t!- ■)
I- iioi-
Natural
theo-
Tto words theology and theologian do not occur in
Scripture, but it was inevitable that they should be trans-
planted into Christian soil. 0«o'Xoyo! is found, as" a V.R
in the inscription of the Apocalypse — the Revelation of
John "the Divine," "the theologian," — and almost certainly
refers to his maintaining the Divinity of the Logos — r^v
ToO Adyou OfoTTfTo, — that the Aoyo? is 6(6^. In the 3d and
4th centuries a theologian usually meant one who distin-
guished himself in defending the personality and Divinity
of the Logos. It was on this ground that Athanasius and
Gregory Nazianzen were honoured with the distinctive
appellation of " theologians." The term theology has not
yet lost its early signification uf "doctrine concerning
God," although a much wider meaning is more common.
Theology in its ordinary general acceptation includes, as
one of its divisions, theology understood as the treatment
of the problems which directly refer to the being, attributes,
and works of God. The Inirodtictio ad Theologiam, and a
later form of it, the Theologia Christiana, composed by
Abelard in the 12th century, first gave currency to an
sicceptation of the word inclusive of all religious truth or
belief. Among later scholastics the common designation
for .a general compendium of religious doctrine was Summa
Theologis. Of such Summse among the most celebrated
and characteristic are those of Alexander Hales, Albertus
Magnus, and Thomas Aquinas. The mediaeval mystics
deemed the essence of theology to be the immediate
intuition of God, who, being once in contact with the soul,
reveals to it the truth of all the principles of faith, and
gives it at the same time spiritual peace and happiness.
This view led to a use of the word which was prevalent
among the Reformers and their immediate successors, — a
subjective application which identified it with what was
characteristic of the mind of a true cheologian, an enlight-
ened and experienced homo rencUus. In this sense it was
a living practical acquaintance with the revelation of grace
and truth made by God to man, a " habitus practicus," a
" sapientia eminens practice," as it was called. With it,
however, these earlier Protestant divines generally con-
joined that objective application of the term which was
current in later scholasticism, and this at length wholly
displaced the subjective acceptation ; in other words,
theology came to signify, not knowledge of a certain kind
as inherent in the mind and operative in the life of the
individual, but knowledge in itself, a body of systematized
•truth, a science. Theology, thus understood, may be
viewed, discussed, and applied in a variety of ways, so as
to give rise to certain kinds or species of theology. In
the 17th century the neceasfty for specialization of this
sort began, from the operation of several causes, to be
widely and strongly felt, and it became usual for divines
to indicate by the titles -of their theological systems the
point of view and mode of treatment adopted. An adjec-
tive added to the term " theologia " served their purpose.
Of adjectives thus employed in the 1 7th and early part of
the 18th century,.the foUosving may be mentioned as either
frequently used or of some intrinsic interest: — theoretica,
practica, didactica, elenctica, polemica, irenica, pacifica,
positiva, comparativa, dogmatica, theoretico-practica, didac-
tico-elenctica, <fcc.
The extension given to the signification of the term
theology was for a very lengthened period almost univer-
sally restricted to the knowledge derivable from the Scrip-
tures, the systematic exhibition of revealed truth, the"
science of Christian faith and life. It is still thus, per-
haps, that the word is most commonly understood. Two
things, howevjer, have naturally suggested the employment
of it in a wider manner. First, there was the rise and
development of a theology not based on revelarion, — the
rise^ and development of what is called natural theology.
The Greeks and Romans could not distinguish between
nature and revelation, reason and faith, because ignorant
of revelation and faith in their distinctive Christian sense.
In the patristic and scholastic ages of the church, and for
some time after the Reformation, men were not in general
prepared to admit that there was a knowledge of God and
of His attributes and of His relations to the world which
might bo the object of a science distinct from and inde-
pendent of revelation. Yet the most learned and thought-
ful even of the scholastic divines recognized in some
measure that such was the case, and could hardly, indeed, <
do otherwise after they had become acquainted with the
contributions which Greek, Jewish, and Arabian philo-
sophers had made to the defence and elaboration of the
doctrine concerning God. The separation of natural and
revealed theology was virtually the work of the scholastics.
The Theologia A'aturalis sive Liber Creaiuramni of the
Spanish physician, Raymond de Sebonde, .who taught
theology in the university of Toulouse during the earlier
part of the 15th century, was, perhaps, the first work
which, proceeding on the principle that God has given us
two books, the book of nature and the book of Scripture,
confined itself to the interpretation of the former, merely
indicating the mutual relations of natural and revealed
religion. A conviction of the truth of the distinction
which he so clearly apprehended gradually spread ; more
and more importance came to be attached to it. The
deists proceeded on it, and tried to exalt natural theology
at the expense of all theology professedly based on revela-
tion, by representing the former as the truth of which the
latter was the perversion. The wisest of their opponents,
and thoughtful Christian writers in general — the adhe-
rents of the moderate and rational theology of the 17th
and 18th centuries — strove, on the other hand, to show
that natural theology was presupposed by revelation and
should carry the mind onwards to the acceptance of reve-
lation. Thus natural theology came into reputation, not-
withstanding the opposition of those who have denied its
existence and contended that the reason of itself can teaeb
us absolutely nothing about God or our duties towards
Him. The recognition of natural theology contributed to Compa-
awaken an interest in the various religions of the world, rativo
and thus led to the second circumstance referred to, '''^°"'°8J
nara'ely, the rise of what may be called comparative theo-
logy, although it has hitherto been more generally
designated the science of religions. It can be shown to
have originated in the attempts made to prove that the
principles of natural theology were to te found in all
religions. In Bishop Steuco of Kisami's De Perenni
Philosophio, published in 1540, and in Lord Herbert of
Cherbury's De Religione Gentilium, published in 1663, we
have two of the earliest and most characteristic attempts
of the kind. From that time to the present the study of
religions has proceeded at varying rates of progress, but
without interruption. Important results have been ob-
tained, and especially this result, the ascertainment, to the
satisfaction of all competent judges, of a right method of
investigation, — the establishment, as the true mode of
study, of the oomparative method. As we have a right to
speak of comparative anatomy and comparative philology,
so have we a right to speak of comparative theology.
The inference from the preceding remarks is obvious. If
there be a natural theology and a comparative theology,
it is a mistake to identify theology per se with Christian
theolog)'. The word Christian is, in this case, a real and
great restriction of the signification of the word theology,
and Christian theology is not the only kind of theology.
The proper procedure is to give to theology a general and
comprehensive meaning, which can be limited and specialized,
when requisite, by adjectives like "natural" or "Christian."
262
THEOLOGY
Is thco-
his^j the
science
■of reli-
gion or
the doc-
trine of
■God?
Objec-
tions to
the for-
mer deti
citiin
met.
What, then, is the general signification which we should
give to the term 1 There is room for difference of opinion,
and especially as to" whether God or religion should be
regarded as the object of the science. Is theology the
science which treats of God? or is it the science which
treats of religion 1 The latter view is now, perhaps, the
more current. In addition to intrinsic reasons, the critical
and sceptical spirit of the time is in its favour. Many
speak of theology as a science of religion because they
disbelieve that there is any knowledge of God to be at-
tained. Dr Martineau, in his lecture on Ideal Substitutes
for God, protests against this tendency, and contends that
the older view of theology, as the doctrine or rational
apprehension of God, ought not to be abandoned, seeing
that the new " science of. religions," i.e., " the systematic
knowledge of what me/i have believed and felt on things
sacred to them," can be no proper substitute for the old
" theology." We may admit, however, that the protest
is essentially true, — that a knowledge of man's religious
opinions, emotions, and actions can never supply the place
of a knowledge of God, that, when from religion its objec-
tive basis, the reality and apprehensibility of God, is taken
away, the study of it can have merely the psychological
interest which belongs to mental disease and illusions, —
and yet prefer the definition of theology as " the science of
religion " to its definition as " the doctrine of God." The
latter seems much too narrow. Even Christian dogmatics
is about as much occupied with man as with God. The
doctrines of sin and of the church, for example, are
not doctrines regarding God. Then, although the new
" science of religions " is not a substitute for the old
" theology," it is still a science, or at least a very interest-
itig and important branch of knowledge, which yet cannot
be brought under the definition of theology approved by
Dr Martineau, — the definition immediately yielded by the
etymology of the term. The science of religion is a very
different thing from the "science of religions." It is far
mora comprehensive. Thi " science of religions " is but
one of the latest offshoots of the science of religion ; the
old theology is its main trunk or stem. Theology, when
viewed as the science of religion, has not to do merely
with the religious consciousness ^nd its states. It must
aim at the complete comprehension of religion, and, unless
religion ,be a deliision and disease, this can never be
attained by treating religion merely as a subjective or
psychological process to •Khich there are no corresponding
objective realities manifested either through nature or
revelation. We have no right to assume that it is thus
without a real and rational foundation in fact ; on the
contrary, we are bound to inquire whether it has external
grounds and real objects or not, and, if it have them, what
they are. We must endeavour to ascertain and expound
its objective grounds as well as its subjective contents.
Thus the definition of theology as the science of religion
in no way excludes what is implied in the definition of it
as the science conversant about God and Divine things.
It includes more than the latter definition, but does not
exclude anything contained therein.
The definition of theology as the science of religion has
been objected to by Dr Charles Hodge on two grounds :' —
first, that the word religion is ambiguous, having both an
objective sense and a subjective sense, and that its ety-
mology is doubtfij ; and, second, that to define theology
as the science of religion " makes theology entirely inde-
pendent of the Bible. For, as moral philosophy is the
analysis of our moral nature and the conclusions to which
that analysis leads, so theology becomes the analysis of
our religious consciousness together with the truths which
that analysis evolves." As to the first objection, the word
Systematic Theology, vol. L pp. 20-21,
religion has, it is true, more significations than one, and
consequently may be ambiguously used, but in point of
fact it is not so used in the definition in question, in which
religion is understood in its generic meaning, and as
inclusive both of /subjective and of objective religion.
Theology has to treat of both, and if it treat of them
aright it will not confound them. " The etymology of
the word religion is doubtful." Very true. But is no
word to be employed in a definition if its etymology be
doubtful ? That would be an extremely hard law. In
definition we have only to do with the actual meaning of
terms; we have nothing to do with their origin or history.
As to the second objection, it has to be remarked that the
definition does not make theology entirely independent of
the Bible. It does not make Biblical theology in any
degree independent of the Bible. It does not imply that
the Bible is not the sole perfect standard by which truth
and error, health and disease, are to be separated in the
religious consciousness of individuals and the religious
history of the race. It only implies that all religious
phenomena whatever are to be studied by the theologian,
just as moral philosophy cannot leave any moral pheno-
mena unstudied. Moral philosophy, in treating of vice
as well as of virtue, does not thereby equalize vice and
virtue ; and no more does comparative theology, when it
treats both of Christianity and heathendom, assume that
the former has no superiority over the latter. It is merely
a part of the task of moral philosophy to analyse the moral
consciousness ; it is an equally essential part thereof to
inquire into the foundation of rectitude, and to determine
objective moral distinctions and relations. In like manner
theology has much more to do than merely to analyse the
religious consciousness ; it has also to treat of the grounds
and obj'Xts of religion. If some reduce it to a mere
analysis of the religious consciousness, and overlook or
deny that there is an objective religious revelation in
nature and Scripture as well as a religious susceptibility
in the mind of man, this is no logical consequence of the
statement that theology is the science of religion. There
needs, perhaps, no other proof that the definition to which
Dr Hodge objects is of some use than to consider for a
moment his own definition. " Theology is the science
concerned with the facts and the principles of the Bible."
Is theology, then, not concerned with the facts and prin-
ciples of the physical world, the human mind, and history,
so far as these are disclosures of God's nature and wayst
How can theology start from the Bible when it needs to be
proved that there is a revelation from God in the Bible 1
And how can this be proved unless it is known from other
sources than the Bible that there is a God 1 If there be
such sources, theology must have to do with them ; it can
have no right to neglect anything by which God may be
known or by which light may be thrown on the relations
between God and man. It is a service to theology so to
define it as to leave no room for asserting that it is only
conversant with the Bible.
Theology, then, is the science of religion. What does Kelatioi,
this definition imply as to the relation of theology to of theo-
religion 9 It implies, first, that the'ology presupposes and J,^^
is preceded by religion. This is but an instance of the
general truth that experience must precede science, and
that science must be founded on experience. The im.
plicit use of principles is always prior to their explicit
development. Speech is a great deal older than gram-
mar ; men reasoned long before Aristotle taught them how
they reasoned ; and just as there must be speech before
grammar, and reasoning before logic, so must there be
religion before theology. Secondly, that theology is the
science of religion implies that theology must not only
succeed religion, but must evolve out of it a system of
THEOLOGY
263
truths entitled to bo called a science. Science is know-
ledge in it3 cunipletest, higlicst, and purest form. Theo-
logy, therefore, by claiming to be the science of religion,
professes to be the exhibition of religious facts and prin-
ciples in their most general and precise shape, in their
internal relationship to one another, in their organic unity
and systematic independence. The principles of causality
and of unity in the human mind impel it to seek law and
order, e.\planation and conne.\ion, as regards the phen^>-
mcna of religion no less than any other species of pheno-
mena ; they impel it, in other words, to perfect its know-
ledge of tlic.sc phenomena, and can allow it no rest until it
h.as attained to the system and science of them. Theology
'is the scientific system of them, and as such is a necessity
'to the thoughtful religious mind. It is no accident that
in every ago and nation thoughtful men have reflected on
jtlicir religious convictions, and souglit to trace them to
their grounds, and to harmonize and systematize them,
or that the Christian church has anxiously studied and
debated for centuries problems concerning God, Christ,
sin, salvation, »tc., — no accident, but the necessary conse-
quence of those fixed laws of humail nature by which man
ever seeks, once that his intellect has been truly awakfened,
to define and complete his knowledge. Conscious that his
religious experience, however vivid, involves much which
Iroipiircs to be cleared up ; perceiving that the religious
.history of his race presents many apparently contradictory
facts, many perplexing problems ; aware that the Bible is
no more a system of theology than nature is a system of
mechanics or chemistry, — man cannot, as a rational being,
do otherwise than endeavour by the investigation of the
.whole phenomena of the case to verify, analyse, combine,
and co-ordinate his notions as to spiritual things, so as to
work them up into a comprehensive, consistent, firmly
established, adequately certified, naturally organized whole,
a scientific system.
But how may man hope to succeed in his efforts to
arrive at a scientific understanding of his religious beliefs,
feelings, and practices 1 How may he educe and elaborate
from the phenomena of religion a system of theology
entitled to be called science ? Only, it is obvious, by
following a truly scientific method. What then is a truly
scientific method in theology t And what is implied in
following it? To these questions a comprehensive, al-
though necessarily brief, answer must now be given.
Scientific A right method in theology, as in all other sciences, is
method ■ g^dj ^ use of reason on appropriate facts as will best attain
truth. It implies, therefore, as an essential condition, a
right relation of reason to religious truth or fact, and to
the evidence for it. What the right relation is may,
perhaps, be defined with substantial accuracy in the
Religious following propositions. (I) Religious truth, like all other
truth truth, is " above reason " in the sense of being not created
abova ^7 ^^^ manifested to reason, but is not " above reason "
reason, in any special sense which withdraws it from the cogniz-
ance of reason. The truths of all science are the dis-
coveries but not the creations of science, and they have
been discovered because they existed, because they are the
equivalents of a reality which is independent of science.
In regard alike to mathematical, physical, mental, and
religious truth, reason has only power to seek it, and to
find or to miss it ; it has no power to make it or rig'it
over it, but must accept it as something presented orgivi,n
to it, and to which it is bound to do homage and yield
submission. In this sense all truth is above reason and
revealed to reason In this sense reason stands to re-
ligious truth in the same relation as to physical truth, and
to Christian truth in the same relation as to the truth
in natural religion. Reason ig simply the Instrument or
faculty of apprehending the truth manifested or revealed
in theo
logy
to it, and it can in tt6 case apprehend truth without the
aid of the appropriate manifestation or revelation. Unless
Christ had lived and taught, reason could never have
known His character and doctrine ; hut no more could it
have known Dante and his Divina Commcdia, Shakespeare
and his creations, "Napoleon and his achievements, unless
these men had appeared in the world and accomplished in
it their work. Without Christ the truth in Christ could
not be known, but, Christ being given, that truth comes
under the cognizance of reason, ceases to be in any special
sense above reason, and affords to reason material for
science. By truths above reason are sometimes meant
truths which cannot be fully apprehended by reason.
Such truths are, however, in no way peculiar to religion.'
In all regions and directions reason finds that its range of
visiou :3 limited, and that its knowledge and science are
bounded by nescience and mystery. Truths of special
revelation are sometimes represented as above reason in
the sense that reason can have no other evidence for them
than that of testimony and external authority. But what
truths of Scripture have thus been revealed to reveal no-
thing, and are thus devoid of intrinsic light, of natural
affinity to reason, of self-evidencing power 1 If there be
any such, it must be admitted that they cannot in them-
selves fall within the province of science, although the
testimony and assent to them may. ■ Where reason stops
science must end. (2) Reason in its investigation of Iteiton
religion must be completely free, i.e., subject to no other mus;.t»
laws than those which are inherent in its own constitution. '^
In regard to most sciences there is no need to insist that
the method of science is one in which reason is free,
because all who occupy themselves with these sciences
acknowledge it. But in regard to theology it is other-
wise. All who call themselves theologians are by no
means disposed to admit that reason, in its search for
religious truth and in its efforts to construct theological
science, must be absolutely free ; on the contrary, many of
them hold that the church or the Bible, tradition or the
. common sense of humanity, must be allowed to have a
co-ordinate or even superior jurisdiction. The proposition
laid down implies that, if any view of this kind be true,
theology is essentially different from science, and it is vain
to speak of scientific method in theology. It implies tl.at
all claims to religious authority must be based on and con-
formed to reason, and that all the deliverances of every
professedly religious authority must be submitted without
reserve or restriction to the reason of the theologian beforel
he can make a scientific use of them. This leads us to
another proposition. (3) The only ascertainable limils of R«»»on'
reason in the investigation of religious truth, as of other ''">''<".
truth, are those which are inherent in its own constitution ; ^^
and in the search of religious truth, as of all other truth, uws
reason ought to go as far as it can go without violation of
the laws of its own constitution. Reason has its limits in
its own laws. It is the business of psychology and logic
to discover what these laws are. When they are known
the powers of reason are known, because reason can never
claim to be irrational It is useless, however, to attempt
to mark off the external or objective boundaries of rational
research. Human inquiry has, no doubt, external bound-
aries beyond which it will never pass, but all apparent
boundaries of this kind recede as they are approached.
There is even absurdity, self-contradiction, in the very
attempt to draw any line separating the knowable from
the unknowable. To know it one must have already
done what we affirm to be impossible, — known the un-
knowable. We cannot draw a boundary unless we see
over it. Reason cannot investigate too deeply any matter
whatever, cannot possibly go too far, so long as it
remains , reason . Its ^ownvJaws, , the, laws _^of_ evidence
264
THEOLOGY
lieala
•■ith
So'ircc*
of reli
giooa
truth.
aod of inference, are the only discoverable expression of
its lawgiver's " thus far." When it violates any of these
laws it has gone too farj but only then, and then simply
because it has ceased to be rational. As long as it con-
forms to them the farther it goes the better. All this
holds good not less in regard to religion than to any other
object of investigation, and is an essential condition of
the possibility of religious science. (4) In the study of
religion, as in every other department of study, reason
should admit nothing as true without sufficient evidence,
while rejecting nothing sufficiently proved by evidence of
any kind although it cannot be proved by evidence of
another kind, or although it may be imperfectly under-
stood or have unsolved difficulties connected with it.
Theology is sometimes said to be a doctrine or science of
belief or faith (a " Glaubenslehre "). Not a few, however,
of those who say so regard belief or faith as essentially
inclusive of reason, in the form of an immediate apprehen-
eion of primary truth or self-evident fact ; in which case
theology is only a Glaubenslehre in common with other
sciences, and belief or faith is in no special mode or
measure its foundation. But, whenever by belief or faith
is meant mere belief or faith, a belief or faith independ-
ent of and unconformed to reason, the apprehension and
appreciation of truth, — to affirm that theology is based
on such belief or faith is to represent it as so unhke every
other science that it clearly cannot be a science at alL
For all belief or faith we are bound to have real evidence,
and enough of it. But we have no right to reject any real
evidence because there is not more or because there is not
evidence of some other kind, — no right to neglect to follow
any Jight there is because it may be dim, and much around
it may be dark, — no more right to refuse to accept any
well-established conclusion as to God and religion because
there is great uncertainty as to the essence of religion, and
because God in His absoluteness and infinity immeasurably
transcends our highest thoughts, than we have to ignore or
contest the conclusions of physical science because we
cannot tell what matter is, and because we find that every
hypothesis as to its nature brings with it many doubts and
difficulties.
The foregoing conditions are perhaps the most general
and fundamental of those to which reason must conform
if it would originate and follow a scientific method in
theology. The next question which demands an answer
is, Whence are the data to be derived on which reason
must operate in religious apprehension and theological
investigation 1 What are the sources of religious truth 1
Reason has not the truth in itself, but in order to possess
it must find it. As the eye has not physical light within
itself, but merely so corresponds to it as to apprehend it,
not otherwise is it with reason and intellectual light.- By
sources of religious truth can only be meant the media
through which God manifests Himself, — the ways by which
He makes himself known ; and the physical world, ■finite
minds, human history, Scripture, and the testimonium
Spiritus Sancii may all be maintained to be such sources.
The atheist and the agnostic will not allow that there are
any sources of religious truth ; the deist and the ration-
alist will only admit the claims of general revelation, the
exclusive Biblicist only of Scripture ; and the mystic will
trust chiefly to special spiritual illumination ; while the
theologian of broader view will hold that all the ways
•ndicated are sources, seeing that in and through them all
knowledge and ex[ierience as to God and religion may be
acquired, and must contend that in the study of theology
none of them is to be ignored or excluded, underestimated
or overestimated, but all are to be duly considered, and
the information supplied by each to be taken in connexion
wilb that supplied by the rest. The sources are distinct.
but not isolated. The light from each combines and
harmonizes with the light from all the.others. The revela-
tion of God in nature is presupposed by that in Scripture,
and Scripture contributes to unveil the spiritual signifi-
cance of nature. Without the light which the human
mind supplies there can be no illumination from any
other source, and yet all the light of the human mind is
gained in connexion with the light from external sources.
History gradually evolves the significance of nature, mind,
and Scripture, yet cannot be uuderstood if dissevered from
the creation in which it is placed, from the mind of man'
in the principles and faculties of which it is rooted, or
from Scripture as the record of the development of a plan
of redemption which gives unity and meaning to the whole
historical movement. However deep and full a source of
religious truth the Bible may be, it is neither independent
of other sources nor a substitute for them ; on the con-]
trary, while castiug light on them all it likewise receives
light from them all. The living apprehension of spiritual
realities presupposes a discernment which the Divine Spirit
alone can give ; yet that Spirit, according, to the testimony
of Scripture, speaks not of Himself, but only in conformity
with what has already been uttered by the Father and
the Son. It would obviously neither be consistent with,
the scope nor possible within the limits of an article like
the present to determine the distinctive features, natural
spheres, and various relationships of the media of revela-
tion or sources of religious truth, but a sufficiently thorough
investigation having this aim may safely be pronounced to
be one of the chief desiderata of theological science.
The process of theological method itself has next to be
considered. Its first step is the ascertainment of the
relevant facts. But these are all the facts of nature and
history, all the truths of Scripture, and all the phases of
religion. The various departments of theology are based
on and inclusive of various orders of these facts, and
each order of facts must be ascertained and dealt with
in appropriate special ways. Thus the relevant data of
catural theology are all the works of God in nature and
providence, all the phenomena and laws of matter, mind,
and history, — and these can only be thoroughly ascertained
by the special sciences. The surest and most adequate
knowledge of them is knowledge in the form called scien-
tific, and therefore in this form the theologian must seek to
know them. The sciences which deal with nature, mind,
and history hold the same position towards natural theo-
logy which the disciplines that treat of the composition,
genuineness, authenticity, text, development, ic, of the
Scriptures do towards Biblical theology. They inform us,
as it were, what is the true text and literal interpretation
of the book of creation. Their conclusions are the pre-
misses, or at least the data, of the scientific natural theo-
logian. All reasonings of his which disregard these data
are ipso facto condemned. A conflict between the results
of these sciences and the findings of natural theology is
inconceivable. It would be a conflict between the data
and conclusions of natural theology, and eo equivalent for
natural theology to self-contradiction. Then, the data of
Biblical theology are all the words contained in the Bible,
viewed in their appropriate positions and historical con-
nexions, and what these are and signify can only be
ascertainsd by the processes of historical criticism and of
hermeneutics. Biblical theology is the delineation of a
section of the history of religious ideas, — that section of
which the traces and records remain in the Bible. But
the Bible comprehends many strata of writing, deposited
at difierent times, and collocated and connectedjn various
ways, and the history of its composition, the age and sue
cession of its parts, must be ascertained before wo can
exhibit th.^ history of its contents, the course of the evolu-
Process
of theo-
logical
method
The facta
of notu.
nd theo-.
logy:
of BibU
ral thc^
\ogy:f'
THEOLOGY
265
of com-
parative
tbeelogy.
Appro-
phatd
methods
of deal-
ing with
tlfese
dau.
tioQ of its ideas. If the theories of recent critics as to the
formation and relationship of the component portions of
the Old Testament be true, the view taken of the develop-
ment of Old Testament theology must be very different
from that formed on the supposition that the traditional
theory is correct. And which theory is correct is a ques-
tion of fact which can only be decided hy dispassionate
and thorough critico-histoncal investigation. So false
readings must be distinguished from true, erroneous trans-
lations from correct, and appropriate from inappropriate
interpretations, which presupposes an adequate measure
of linguistic, grammatical, and exegetical knowledge and
skill. The religion of th6 Bible, however, is but one of a
multitude of religions which have left traces of them-
selves in documents, monuments, rites, creeds, custom.s,
institutions, individual lives, social changes, <tc., and there
is a theological discipline — comparative theology — which
undertakes to disclose the spirit, delineate the character,
trace the development, and exhibit the relations of all re-
ligions with the utmost attainable exactitude. Obviously
the mass of data which this science has to collect, sift, and
interpret is enormous. They can only be brought to light
and set in their natural relationships by the labours of hosts
of specialists of all kinds. That hypotheses in this domain
will for long arise and vanish with disappointing rapidity
is only what is to be expected from its vast extent, the
amount of its buried wealth, the gradual and fragmentary
way in which its contents must be disinterred, the losses
and changes which have occurred in the course of time,
and the constant suggestion of fresh interpretations of
ancient texts and new solutions of old problems which
must come from unceasing discovery. Some theological
disciplines, it must also be observed, presuppose others,
and have consequently among their data the conclusions
of those other disciplines. All doctrine, for example,
founded on special revelation presupposes doctrine founded
on general revelation ; all Christian theology must imply
and incorporate natural theology. Christian dogmatics
has to make use of the results of natural theology. Biblical
theology, and comparative theology, and to raise them to
a higher stage by a comprehensive synthesis which con-
nects them with the person and work of Christ, as of Him in
whom all spiritual truth is comprehended and al. spiritual
wants-supplied. The conception of it prevalent until lately,
as a system formed of generalizations and inferences from
texts of Scripture, answers properly to no theological science,
but much more nearly to Biblical theology than to Christian
dogmatics.
When religious data have been ascertained, the materials
of theological science have been obtained, but the scientific
edifice itself has still to be constructed. The general
truths involved in particular disclosures have to be evolved ;
the laws of the development of phenomena have to be
discovered ; elements have to be reached by analysis and
comprehensive views by synthesis ; laws and facts, funda-
mental and derivative principles, have to be exhibited in
'their natural organic connexion. This can only be done
aright by right methods, and only by a variety, of methods.
No one-sided process can be appropriate or sufficient.
The method must conform to the nature of the matter
dealt with and to the end that has to be attained. Theo-
logy includes a variety of sciences or disciplines, and these
differ so greatly in character that they plainly cannot be
sti iied aright if studied precisely in the same way. Some
of i;hem are more allied to criticism, others to history, and
others again to philosophy. In some deduction can mani-
festly have little place, while in others there is no obvious
reason why it should not be largely used. There is no
kind of science which, with its special processes, n -y not
be called on to contribute to some department of theology.
There must be, therefore, in theology need and scope for a
great variety of applications of method.
It IS easy, however, to exaggerate the importance of
acquaintance with the formal rules of method laid down
by logicians. The theory of method must be preceded by
practice — true theory by successful practice, and the ablest
practitioners Ste always only to a small extent guided in
their practice by conscious reference to the rules of method
prescribed by logicians. In theology, as in all other depart-
ments of science, a man can only become an investigator
by investigating. And whether he will become, through
the practice of iLvestigation, a successful investigator oi
not will depend far more on his general intellectual char-
acter, his ingenuity, originality, tact, and sensibility, his
familiarity with the relevant facts and with the researches
which are really bringing new truths in his department
to light, his perseverance and diligence, than on his know-
ledge of what the theorists on method have taught as to
its nature and requirements. Yet, of course, such instruc-
tion as logical theory can give is not to be despised, but
to be received and acted on with all due appreciation.
^^^len the data of the theologian are before him as
particular facts, it is obvious that he must so enumerate
and classify, so analyse and generalize, so correlate and
combine them, as to elicit from them the principles which
they imply, before either his procedure or results can be
properly characterized as scientific. In other words, a
method which starts from particulars must, in order lo
be scientific, be largely inductive. But m theology, as in
all other departments of knowledge, the only induction
which IS of any value is more than any mere summation
or combination of facts. This is not the place for a
discussion of the nature of a true induction ; but on any
view it must hold good that to understand aright what
induction in theology is we must know what is implied in
all that is comprehended in it, — the ascertainment and
collocation of facts, the discrimination of their charac-
teristics, the classification of them, the analysis of what
is complex, the synthesis of what is partial, the tracing of
uniform relations, the inferential act, ic. Much which
would not be without interest or use, or even some degree
of novelty, might be said on all these points. Numerous
as have been treatises on theology, there has not as yet
appeared a single earnest attempt to expound the nature
of method in theology ; even the many works, professedly
dealing not only with the encyclopaedia but with the
methodology have, in reality, quite ignored theological
method proper. The present writer can only here note
the desideratum ; to supply it would require a special and
lengthened discussion. The so-called methods of induction —
the methods of agreement, of difference, and of concomitant
variations — are as applicable in theology as in physical or
mental science. They are not, properly speaking, processes
of induction ; they are merely rules for testing inductions.
Their value, of course, is not thereby lessened.
The theologian, not less than the physicist, must be on
his guard against fancying that the validity or certainty of
his inductions is to be estimated by the number of his
instances. Many who have undertaken to prove the Divine
existence by the cosmological and teleological arguments
have made the fatal pistake of supposing that all that was
needed was an accumulation of what they deemed ex-
amples or illustrations of Divine wisdom. They have
overlooked that what is, above all, necessary is to show
the truth of the principles of causality and finality, and
the legitimacy of those applications of them, which are
involved in the cosmological and teleological arguments.
They have spent their strength on what is easy, superficial
and indecisive, and had none left to deal with what is
difficult, deep, and of vital moment. They have failed to
XXIIL • u
Practical
mvesU-
gritiqu
esscLtiiUf
Method
must be
largely
iiidae-
tivQ.
Number
of data
requireiJ
vanea
with
nature
of the
question*
consid-
erul.
266
THEOLOGY
apprehend that the essential question at issue is not. What
or how many appearances of order and of adaptation may
be traced in the various provinces of nature '' but. Do such
appearances «n any case warrant an inference to a super-
natural intelligence and purpose '' In like manner many
dogmatic theologians have seemed to think that in order
to establish a doctrine it was enough to cite a number of
texts in Its favour Often their doctrines would be more
easily believed if their texts were fewer Often in the
Westminster Confession, for example, where the doctrine
causes no difEcnlty. the texts cited in connexion therewith
are quite inadmissible as proofs Induction requires the
strictest regard to relevancy Whether the data for the
proof of general truths m theology must be many or may
be few will largely depend, as in physical and mental
science, on the nature of the truths When Newton had
made out that the law of gravitation explained a single
fact, applied to the mopn, no pereon who fully compre-
hended his demonstration could seriously doubt either of
the certainty or of the universality of the law It was
a case of a vast intellectual conquest achieved by one
decisive victory. What remained was merely to take
possession of what had been won, and to explain certain
apparent anomalies On the other hand, when Mr Darwin
published his Ongm of Speaes. he had already accumu-
lated, with amazing industry and ingenuity, and through
the uninterrupted investigations of many years, a multi-
tude of observations and considerations in support of the
general propositions therein enunciated as laws of bio-
logical evolution Of similar observations and considera-
tions there has since been an -enormous increase Yet the
so-called Darwinian laws are still under discussion Why
has their proof or disproof been so different a process
from that of the establishment of the law of gravitation 1
Largely because they are in themselves so different in
nature. Laws of evolution can only be reached through
the minute investigation of a far greater number of changes
and appearances than laws of persistence The discovery
of truths of becoming may not be a more difficult but it
is certainly a more delicate and complex process than the
discovery of truths of being. Now this distinction not
only emerges m theology but pervades it In some de-
partments of theology the laws to be discovered are laws
of evolution, while in others they are laws of existence.
Hence the method to be followed m the former must be
predominantly chronological and genetic, in the latter
predominantly analytic and synthetic For example, m
Biblical theolo^ and comparative theology the inductiv.->.
process must be of the kind appropriate in historical inves-
tigation, whereas in natural theology and Christian dog-
matics it must b( of the kind appropriate in systematic
investigations into which considerations of time, place, and
circumstance do tot enter The faculties of mind and
processes of m.'.tbod imphed in the complete comprehension
of religion as fi concrete manifestation of spirit are those
which are of primi moment in the historical disciplines of
theology , the faculties of mind and processes of method
involved in the clear apprehension of the truths and laws
of religion in Its abstract or essential nature are those
chiefly requisite in the theoretical disciplines of theology ;
and, speaking generally, complete comprehension of the
concrete pr suppose? a more minute and exhaustive ac-
quaintance Mfith particulars than does a'xlear apprehension
' of the abstract To determine with scientific precision
and thoroughness, for example, what were the stages of
the development of doctrine in the Bible, or even to trace
with such accuracy and completeness as the data supplied
by the Bible and auxiliary sources permit the growth of
single important ideas, as, e.g.. election, holiness, atone-
ment, and kingdom of God, demands laborious critical
I investigation and comprenensive and minuie historical
knowledge Given, on the other hand, the Chrisuan ideas
of God and ot man, and the lundamental relation between
God and man cannot be otherwise conceived by enlightened
leason and conscience than as one of salvation through
filth and not by works True, as all physical natun
obeys the law of gravitation, so all Scripture and spirituc.'
experience testify to the power of '.he principle of faith ,
but then, also, as the decisive proot of the former lies ic
the thorough elucidation of any phenomenon which ex
emplifies it, not in the collection of numerous illustrativ,-
phenomena, so the decisive proot of the latter lies in at
adequate analysis of any portion or form of the life of
genuine faith, not in the accumulation of examples of faith
drawn from the Scriptures or other records.
The two methods ol induction to which reference has Histo-
just been made— the historical and the thetical — are to '■"^*' '""^
be carefully distinguished but not absolutely separated, ">""=*'
and stdl less exhibited as antagonistic. Both have specific t,uos
and appropriate functions , neither is exclusively legiti-
mate or can alone accomplish the work of science The
historical method by itself can only yield history It haa
done all that can m any circumstances be reasonably
expected from it, when it has enabled us accurately to
realize the course of the history studied, or, in other words,
when It has given us a correct reflexion of the history.
If, not content therewith, we would further ascertain the
nature and laws of the factors which formed the history
we must supplement the historical with the thetical
method The historical method leads only to history, and
in no form or province is history science. Science even
of history, or of any department of history, cannot be
reached simply by the historical method, but further
requires recourse to the processes ot positive science.
Comparative theology. Biblical theology, and the history
of Christiaj doctrines are most valuable theological dio-
ciplmes. but, inasmuch as their methods are purely histor-
ical, their results are also purely historical, and they are
not, rigidly speaking, sciences, but only sections of the
history of religion The tendency to substitute history
for science, and the historical method for the scientific
method, is prevalent in the present day in theology, as
well as in ethics and jurisprudence, social philosophy and
political economy Obviously, however, it rests on ex-
aggeration and illusion, and confounds things which ought
to be distinguished Neither history of the objects of a
science, nor history of the ideas or doctrines ot a science,
is science, and the historical method of itself car only
give us in connexion with science either or both ot these-
torms of history It is. theretore. inherently absurd to
suppose that the historical method can be sufficient in such
theological disciplines as natural theology and Christian
dogmatics In reality, it is not directly or immediateiv
available in the study of these disciplines at all. and that
just because it does not directly or immediately yield theory,
doctrine, science. Only he who knows both the history of
the objects and the history ol the ideas ot a science, and
especially of a psychological, social, or religious science,
can be expected to advance the science. In the sphere ot
religion, as in every other sphere, to confound history with
science is to eliminate and destroy science . but in no
sphere is knowledge of history more a condition ot the
attainment of science, and historical research, properly
conducted, more serviceable to scientific investigation, than
in that of religion. To the historical method we owe
not only the historical disciplines of theology, but also in f
considerable measure the recent progress of its positive oi
theoretical disciplines It can never, however, be, as soibi
fanatical disciples of the historical School would have us to
suppose, the method of these last
THEOLOGY
267
Complex
problems
demand
compre-
h^-DSive
UODS.
Thede-
dnctive
elemeot
indis-
peosable.
The inductionB of theology, even in its systematic or
non-historical departments, often require to be very careful
and comprehensive in order to be conclusive. Theories or
doctrines like the Christian dogmas of the T.inity, incar-
nation, and atonement were only arrived at through the
labours and controversies of many generations of theolo-
gians, [t could not be otherwise. These dogmas, simple
as they may seem to a superficial glance and untrained eye,
are in reality very complex organisms of thoughf> only
capable of being formed by a long process of evolution.
They are theories inclusive of many theorems. They com-
prehend a number of directly constitutive propositions and
a still greater number of propositions subordinate and
subsidiary to these. Every proposition which they involve
should be the expression of real and relevant facts As
wholes they ought to combine a multitude of particulars
of different kinds, and even of kinds the harmony ol which
IS far from obvious and needs confirmation. Whoever
intelligently accepts any one of these dogmas must, by
necessary implication, reject a host of hypotheses regarding
its subject, as either inadequate or positively erroneous.
Inasmuch as they are not consistent with or are contrary.
to the dogma, he is logically bound to repudiate them, and
yet he is only logically entitled to do so if his proof of the
dogma have been so comprehensive and complete as to
include their separate and collective refutation. The
establishment of the whole truth is only possible through
the disproof of all the opposing errors How the inductive
method is ajiplied m theology, however, will be better
understood by the examination of a particular exemplifica-
tion of It than by a general description , and, perhaps, as
regards at least form, a more careful or elaborate exempli-
fication could hardly be pointed out than that exhibited in
Dr Crawford's treatise on the atonement. An examination
of it will show how very complex in reality may be a
doctrine which is very simple in appearance, and how com-
prehensive, therefore, must be the inductive procedure
necessary to establish it and to warrant the rejection of the
hypotheses which must seem to one who accepts it to err
by excess or defect or to be absolutely false.
The inductions of theology, like those of other sciences,
are seldom or never mere or pure inductions. They would
be useless if they were. The examples of pure induction
given in treatises on logic may serve their purpose, the
illustration of the nature of ratiocination, but they are not
reasonings of a kind which can increase positive know-
ledge. The abstraction of induction from deduction may
be needed to exhibit its distinctive formal character, but it
is fatal to its practical efficiency. In all reasoning meant
to increase our knowledge of objects, induction must
receive from deduction some measure of assistance and
guidanca This certainly holds true in -theology. In
regard to the doctrine of the Trinity, for example, the
most difficult questions mvolved turn largely on the signi-
fication and application of the terms employed in its ex-
pression. These terms must be somehow defined, and
definitions once introduced cannot fail to be used to some
extent as principles of deduction. They are often largely
80 used by those who are quite unconscious of making any
use of them, and who have no suspicion that the cour.se
and character of their reasonings are modified by them.
Definitions often secretly introduce a great amount of
hypothesis and deduction into reasonings imagined to be
exclusively inductive. Further, principles of deduction
are directly a,nd explicitly introduced. The truth of the
catholic doctrine, or indeed of any doctrine, of the atone-
ment, for example, cannot be proved purely by induction.
It is neeessary to start with some assumption as to the
authority of the Scriptures, or at least as to the authority
ol those whose teaching is contained in the Scriptures.
That assumption itself should, it is true, be proved by a
process of apologetisal and critical reasoning which is in
the main inductive. It cannot, however, any raore than
the doctrine of atonement, be proved by a purely or ex-
clusively inductive process, i.e., without some co-operation
or participation of deduction ; and, once proved, it becomes
a principle of which a deductive use is made. Every parii-
cular statement of Scripture is read and interpreted in the
light of it. So far as this is the case, deduction underlies
all the inductions of doctrine based on the statements of
Scripture. Of course, the dogmatic theologian, in so far
as he founds on Scripture, is bound not to presuppose
more than he is prepared to prove as a Christian apologist
or Biblical critic and interpreter. The assumptions made
in systematic theology ought to be the firmly ascertained
results of its subsidiary sciences. And the less assumed
the better, as the relevancy of the reasoning employed will
be so much the more widely acknowledged. Every addi-
tional assumption diminishes the number of persons who
will grant the principles on which the argumentation pro-
ceeds. When, for instance, a doctrine like plenary inspira-
tion is assumed as the basis of an argument for the atone-
ment, the number of persons who can be benefited by the
argument must be few. Those who will grant plenary
inspiration are not likely to require to bfe convinced of the
truth of the ordinary doctrine of the atonement ; they are
almost certain to be already convinced. On the other
hand, a man may have loose or vague views of inspiration,
and yet it may be possible to satisfy him that the doctrine
of the atonement is well founded. The proof of the
doctrine of the atonement may receive support and con-
firmation from the proof of the doctrine of plenary inspira-
tion, but ought not to be made dependent on it.
Scientific method has not only to ascertain the facts and Sys'.em4»
data of science, and to discover its laws, but also to dis- t^^tioD.
tribute and co-ordinate its contents. And this last is like-
wise an important function. Science is system. To
exclude system from science is to suppress and destroy
science. The spirit of system is in itself nothing ni(ire
than the spirit of order and unity. Without unity and
order — that is, without system — there is no science ; instead
of it there can be only confused ideas, isolated opinions.
It is absurd to condemn either system or the spirit of
system in theology or any other science. To systematize
is an intellectual necessity ; to systematize aright is a
happy achievement and an immense boon ; it is merely
systematizing erroneously which is evil. Theology, by
professing to be a science, pledges itself to systematize in
a scientific manner. By claiming to be the science of
religion it undertakes to exhibit the truths of religion in
their proper relationship to one another, in their organic
unity and essential interdependence. Thus to proceed is
necessary to it, not only as a conseo-ence, but also as a
means of the development of its constituent dogmas, for
no doctrine can be truly and fully evolved in isolation, but
only in connexion with kindred doctrines and through the
general growth of the science or system to which it belongs.
Increase of insight into any one truth brings with it clearer
-views of all contiguous and related truths, and the collec-
tive light thus gained illumines each' particular to which
it extends. To apprehend more distinctly the relations
between either facts or theories is to understand better the
facts or theories themselves. To comprehend any single
doctrine aright we must study, not merely its special data,
but those of allied doctrines, trace its connexions with
those doctrines, and view both it and them as parts of an
organic and harmonious whole. Hence the endeavour to
systematize the contents of science should not merely
follow the formation of its separate doctrines, but likewise
accompany and participate in the process of their formar
268
THEOLOGY
*:ttuS of
A tntc
thco-
system
tion Wisely conducted systematization is entitled to be
deemed an aid to discovery It rot'^aU where exploration
IS needed, and indicates the ■irections in which research
will be successful It is the hlyLlc^t form and effort of
*5'ntlietic thought, and synthesis is a not less necessary and
fruitful operatiou in scientific method than analysis
iVbiiSe trf Unfortunately it cannot be denied that there has been
system a vast amount ol erroneous systematizing in theology, and
that It has done a vast amount of harm Doubtless much
of the aversion felt and expressed to system in tLeology is
to b". traced to the imperfect, artificial, false character ot
many theological systems. Instead of exhibiting religious
truths in their real significance and interdependence, theo-
logical systems have often disguised and disfigured, cramped
and contorted these truths, or even ignored and rejected
them How, then, is a true and appropriate system to be
distinguished from one which is false and imperfect! In
various respects, which can here be merely mentioned
Thus, first, a true system is natural and not artificial. In
e(pii\alent terms, it is directly derived from the character
of the matter of which it treats, and not arbitrarily im-
posed on that matter from without Etery system of
thought, wiiether true or false, must, of course, be the
product of intellect, but no true system is a mere inven-
tion of intellect, a mere subjective creation interposed
between the mind and things , it us, on the contrary, a
representation of the real nati^-e-s and relations of things
The human intellect can only construct a true sy.stem by
finding in and among facts the conne.xions and harmonies
which are actually there But to do this may require more
labour than is agreeable, or may contravene some cherished
prejudice, or may not be recognized to be the sole legiti-
mate procedure, and. so it may devise, instead, a formula
or scheme of thought suggested by some idea drawn from
an extraneous source, force that scheme or formula upon
things to which it is inappropriate, and so construct a sys-
tem which is artificial and erroneous. Most sciences have
suffered frota artificial systematization of this kind, but
prubablv«none nearlj' so much as theology Jletaphysical
[ihilosophy has always sought to shape and modify religious
and even distinctively Scriptural truths according to its
own ideas, methods, and dogmas. Paul and John have
oftrn been merely the masks through which Plato and
Alistotle have taught. Hegelian divines have passed ail
religious beliefs, all Scriptural doctrines, through the dia-
lectic devised by their master, and, whatever those beliefs
and doctrines may have been before subjection to the
operation of that wonder-working machine, they have
always come out ground into Hegelian notions. Juris-
prudence exerted a similar infiuence, owing to its having
been the only science which was studied with zeal and
success in the Latin world when theology began to be
independently cultivated by the Latin Church. The Latin
mind was so possessed by juristic or foren.sic ideas that the
Latin fathers could not avoid looking at the gospel through
them This way of viewing it is still familiar. The so-
called federal school of theology, long and widely influen-
tial, exhibited the whole system of religious truth accord-
ing to the analogy of a covenant, — a succession of cove-
nants between God and man, — in other words, according
to a conception which is essentially juristic and political,
not intrinsically and properly religious The making of a
metaphor in this manner the basis of an entire system of
theology is far from uncommon. Thus, because sin may
bo likened to disease or to darkness or to death, and holi-
ness to health or light or life, not a few would conceive of
all religious truth according to these similitudes, and do
violence to the reality when it does not easily adapt
itself toihe moulds which they have chosen for it. Dr
Chalmers, for instance, distributed all systematic theology
into a study of the disease and a study of the remedy, and
treated the doctrine of the Trinity merely as an appendix.
At present, owi.ig to the dominancy ol physical science,
there is a strong temptation to work upon spiritual facts
with physical categories, and even to identify, i.e., to con-
found, the spiritual with the physical. Hence we hear of
natural law, m the sense of mechanical or biologic:-; law,
in the spiritual world
Secondly, in a true system of theology the material and
formal constituents of knowledge will he duly combined,
)ut not in a false system No true system of theology can
oe constructed simply by logical deduction from abstract
conceptions, from a prion assumptions, from self evident
axioms Mere reasoning from data so insullicient as these
•nay be made plausible and imposing by being thrown
into syllogistic, dialectic, or mathematical shapes, but it
cannot be made truly profitable and productive. When
the Wolfians had presented theology in the semblance of
geometry, they had merely succeeded in dressing it in
ma.-iquerade and binding it vvith fetters. Reason can only
work effectively in theology when it is in possession of a
large and close acquaintance with Divine things and acts
harmoniously with the whole spiritual nature. On the
other hand, without the application of logical refle.t'.on to
the truth implicitly contained in the sources of religious
knowledge, without the help of definition, induction,
deduction, and all the processes involved in analysis,
generalization, judgment, and reasoning, we never could
reach a scientific .system at all Such a system is not
simply an aggregation or accumulation of the data and con-
stituents of religion, but the product of all the activities
and forms of thought which give to the contents of re-
ligious experience the order and organization which theo,
logy, as science, demands.
Thirdly, a true system is one in which unity is the
result of the conciliation of all relevant principles, even
although they may be apparently antagonistic, while a
false system is one which bases itself on some particular
principle or idea to the exclusion of others, also legitimata
In a true system unity is produced by harmonizing differ-
ences , in a false system it is produced by ignoring diff'er-
ences. A true system of theology is one which grows out
of the struggle of opposing elements and recognizes the
validity and significance of all religious truth. It is not,
for example, so based on Divine sovereignty that injustice
is done to human liberty, or so based on free will that
God's agency is largely ignored, but it assigns to both
Divine efficiency and human action their proper place, and
does so, not merely by maintaining the truth of both, but
also by exhibiting their relationship anii harmony.
Fourthly, in a true system all the members are not
merely included, connected, and classified, — they are also
unified through reference to a centre. A true system
must be a unity of members pervaded by a common life.
In Its remotest members must be traceable the pulsations
of its heart. Only of late have theologians begun clearly
to recognize that this characteristic of a true organic
system must be taken into account in the formation of
their science. Long after they were fully alive to the
importance of treating of each head of doctrine or irticle
of faith, each separate theological locus, they felt hardly
any interest as to how the various doctrines, articles, or
loci were to be connected. They were often coutent to
take the order of arrangement from some external source,
some creed, confession, or catechism. It was a step iu
advance when, although still arranging the dogmas merely
in a series, they endeavoured to give each dogma its place,
on the ground of its natural and intrinsic relationship-tO
other dogmas. Theologians have, indeed, differed much
as to what is the proper sei-iatim order. One, for e:;a[nplei
THEOLOGY
269
•has "begun with the nature and state'of man, a second with
the being and character of God, a third with the Divine
authority of the Scriptures, and a fourth has followed the
order of the Divine dispensations. Yet there need be no
doubt that there is such an order, one in which every
dogma is exactly where it ought to be. This order, it
may also be safely affirmed, can only be one of advance
from the simpler to the more complex. An order in which
each dogma has before it only its natural antecedents, and
after it only its natural consequents, must be one of con-
tinuously increasing complexity. The spirit of order and
of system cannot rest, however, in the series. It must
classify as well as connect the doctrines. This also may
be accomplished in various waj-s, and even when there is
general agreement as to what are the natural groups, there
may be considerable difference of opinion as to their delim-
itation. But the most perfect distribution by classifica-
tion, if unsupplemented, must be unsatisfactory. A still
higher kind of unity bos to be attained. It is that of the
only unity which is truly organic It is that of co-ordina-
tion and correlation through a single central principle. An
intellectual system, a system of science or doctrine, can
only have this unity, and be in consequence a true system,
when all its particular truths and various departments or
divisions of truth are connected with one another and
combined into a whole by reference to a common and
central truth. The necessity of conforming to this condi-
tion of systematizing has now begun to be felt among
theologians, and hence in several modem systems of
Christian dogmatics the doctrines are not merely distri-
buted into groups, but an attempt is also made to find a
centre for the whole system in a single pervasive idea.
Such a centre Kothe, for e.xaraple, finds in the religious
consciousness, a consciousness of sin and of grace ; Kahnis
imhe doctrine of the Trinity; and Thomasius and H. B.
Smith in Christ Himself, His person and work. So far as-
Ghristian -theology is concerned, tTie last of these views
IS doubtless correct. Christian thcolog)', like Christianity
itself, must be Christoccntric All its doctrines either
directly and immediately relate to Christ's manifestation
of God and redemption of man, or are the antecedents
and consequents of those which do. To Christ the entire
system owes its distinctive character. For general theo-
logy, on the other hand, the central and vital idea can be
no other than that of religion itself. It must obviously
be one derived from the domain of the science itself, and
indeed from the essential nature of the object of the
science. As it would be an error to seek the principles
of biology elsewhere than in " life," or of psychology else-
where than in " mind," so must it be to seek the principles
of theology elsewhere than in " religion." Theology is the
science of religion, and in the true idea of religion should
be found the central and constitutive principle of the
general system of theology. That it can be found therein
will appear as we proceed.
Must the work of method in theology end, however,
even with the formation of a system which answers to the
requirements just indicated? Is there no still higher
procedure or application of theological method legitimate 1
This is to ask if there be any place for a speculative
method in theology, and if speculative th«)logy rest on
any solid basis.
Spccc- The history of theology might, perhaps, suffice of itself
i6-»e to show, on the one hand, that speculation has a large and
to U eo- '^g'ti'Ti'its place in the sphere of theology, and, on the
jo^j-. other hand, that its place is one the limits of which are
diffii ult to fix or keep within. Christian theology was
initinted by Gnostic speculation, grandly reasonable in
aiming at the exhibition of Christianity as the absolute
truth and absolute religion, but otherwise wildly extra-
vagant. An Origen and an Augustine owed largely to
speculativeness both their successes and their failures. The
defects of scholasticism were due more to misdirection of
the reflective understanding than of the speculative reason,
and it was especially the speculative and the mystic
divines of the Middle Age who opened up the way to
modern thought and modern theology. Men like Nicholas
of Cusa, Bruno, Telesio, and Camianella, looking from the
heights of speculation, saw some aspects of religious truth
winch the Reformers, standing on lower if safer and less
cloudy ground, overlooked. A Descartes and a S|iinoza,
into whatever errors they may have fallen, certainly did
much, and in a directly speculative manner, to enlarge and
advance the philosophy of religion. Kant supposed that,
by his critical researches into the nature and limits of
knowledge, he had made an end of speculative theology
and done what would effectually deter reason from specu-
lative adventures. It soon became apparent that his
expectations had been doomed to disappointment, that in
reality he had excited speculative reason to extraordinary
activity and even audacity, and inaugurated an era of
theology far more speculative than any which had preceded
it The great speculative movement in philosophy headed
by Fichte, Schelling, Hegel, Baader, Krause, and others
passed on immediately into the sphere of theology, its
leaders themselves proceeding to apply their principles and
methods to the explanation of the doctrines and phases of
religion. Theologians by profession soon followed in their
footsteps. Daub and Marheinocke constructed systems
of Protestant dogmatics by means of Hegel's dialectic.
Strauss, Baur, and their followers reached by the same
method negative and antichristian results, bringing out
the contradictions between the doctrines of the church and
the speculative troths to which it was held that they
should give place. Many theological systems of an almost
exclusively .speculative character have since appeared in
Germany. Weisse's Philosophische Dogmatik and Rothe's
TheologUche Ethik are good typical instances. And, while
not so predominant, the speculative use of reason is
yet conspicuous in the treatises on Christian dogmatics
of Dorner, Martensen, Schoberlein, Hofmann, Liebner,
Biedermann, and others. In the department of philo-
sophy of religion a speculative procedure is not le.ss fre-
quently followed, eitner as alone appropriate or as a
necessary supplement to the genetic and historic method.
Rosmini, Gioberti, and Mamiani inaugurated in Italy a
speculative theology second only to that of Germany.
Contemporary French theological literature can boast of
at least one work displajdng real speculative power, — the
Phihsophie de la Liberie of M. Secretan. In America
Hickok, Bushnell, and Mulford may be named as having
shown confidence in the competency of speculative reason
in the spiritual sphere. In Britain Principal Caird has
argued in favour of a speculative procedure in theology
with rare skill in his Introduction to the Philosophy of
Religion. On the whole, however, both in America and
Britain, the speculative method has received little recogni-
tion from theologians. But this, of course, may be held
to be partly cau.=;e and partly effect of the want of life and
originality, of thoroughness and truthfulness, of ordinary
American and British systematic theology.
Is there, then, room and need in theology for the
speculative method? The answer .^lust depend on what
is meant by speculative method. There are kinds of so-
called speculation which are plainly illegitimate and in-
applicable. Thus, some have represented speculative theo-
logy as part of a philosophy of which the whole system is
deduced in a purely and strictly logical manner from an a
priori principle, idea, or datum. On this view the specu-
lative thinker somehow apprehends an absolute first of
270
THEOLOGY
Tlie
Thecf
lovxal
Eihicsoi
Kothe.
thoiigbt or being, or both, and theu from this primary and
necessary datum evolves syUogistically or dialectically a
whole' philosophy, which includes a whole theology. 'Such
speculation may be safely pronounced futile and delusive.
It c.'ifi never reasonably vindicate its choice of a starting-
point, for the absolute first of _e.vistence and thought can
only be that to which the worlds of fact and experience,
of matter and of mind, refer us as their ultimate explana-
tion. It asxribes an extravagant power to mere formal
ttinking. It is only consistent with exclu-sive idealism
and exclusive rationalism, both justly discredited species
of philosophy. It makes theology wholly dependent on a
philosophy which must be false, since pure reason cannot,
as it assumes, spin out of its own essence or out of any
single datum the whole system of truth.
There is, however, a theology which claims to be at once
speculative and independent of philosophy. Such was the
theology which Rothe sought to elaborate in his Theolor/ical
Elides. In the " Introduction " to that work he has fully
explained his method. It is, as there represented, the very
same method with that of speculative philosophy, but ij.
starts from adifTerent point, — not from pure self-conscious-
cess, but from the religious self-consciousness or God-con-
sciousness. Its primary datum is, according to Rothe, as
immediately certain as that of speculative philosophy, the
|.iou3 man being just as directly sure of God as the natural
man is of his own self. Out of this datum it must evolve
all its conclusion^ by an inward logical necessity, and
construct an entire theological system of such a nature
that every single thought implicitly supposes the whole.
Speculative theology thus conceived of needs but a single
fact, the datum from which it starts, and that fact must
be a self-evident one, given immediately in and by con-
sciousness ; all the rest is a succession of inferences de-
ductively obtained. The facts of religion presented in
nature, history, and Scripture not only need not but
ought not to be taken into account by it, although at the
close of its labours, its success must be tested by the con-
formity or nonconformity of its results with those facts.
"This system of n priori thought," says Rothe, "to be success-
ful as a speculation, must be an absolutely correspondiug and
:onstant imaf;e of the reality ; but the speculative process itself
takes no thought whether there be such a reality existing, or how
the ideas which it construes are related to it ; but, without looldng
either to the right hand or to the left, it follows only the course of
logical necessity, UDtil it has accomplished the whole circle of its
ideas, and constructs a complete system. Then hrst the specu-
lative thinker looks out of himself, in order to compare the system
of thought which he has independently constructed with the
objective reality, and to assure himself of his correctness by such a
comparison; but in so doing he is slipping out of the region of
speculative into that of reflective thinking. The necessity of-such
a veri.lcation, indeed, he acknowledges unconditionally, but he di*
t:''2'iishcs clearly between the speculation itself and that reflective
Ci'tical process by which alone such a verification can be realized.
V,Mh reference to theempiiical reality around him, he acknowledges
that his speculation is incorrect if his system of thought is not
if-re reproduced, but he still persists that he has to complete his
•;".:cii!ative labour without any direct reference to it. He concludes
ri.-'-er, from a clear want of correspondency, that he has speculated
liiforrectly, and can look for his error in nothing else than in his
departure from a strict adherence to the laws of logic. Forthwith,
tl/en, he destroys his laboriously constructed system; but if he
a^iin proceed to construct anotlier, he must proceed in the very
iaiue manner as before, i.e., by'-iking solely into his own thoughts,
as iliough there were no world ^rpund him."
Rothe, it will be observed, cannot be charged with hav-
ii:g made theology dependent on philosophy. He repre-
sented theoloL'ii;al .speculation and philosophical speculation
as starting from different data, as running parallel to each
other, and so as throughout distinct. But this was to
avoid one extreme by falling into another. It was virtu-
ally to deny the unity of thought, and to assume an in-
credible dualism in the universe of speculation. A theo-
logy absalutely separated from philosophy must be even
more unsatisfactory than one wholly dependent on it
Then, the method itself' proceeds on assumptions unsup-
ported by evidence, yet far from self-evident. Jtassumes,
for instance, that a system of ideas generated a priori will
be a counterpart of reality, although it is neither incon^
ceivable lior improbable that the characteristics of real
existence may be incapable of being determined by the
mere logic of necessary thought. Reason should not thus
be credited with the extraordinary power of compreheud-
ing reality without requiring to apprehend and study it.
Another assumption is, that a complete and self-consistent
system can only be reached by an exclusively a prim-i
procedure, whereas it is far more likely that such a system
will only be attained by. a combination of different pro-
cesses. Again, the primary datum of theological specula-
tion as understood by Rothe^the idea of. God — is assumed
to be immediately given and immediately certain. But
the idea of God is not immediately given or immediately
certain. The piety which chooses to affirm so is a piety
capricious in its affirmations ; the speculation^which starts
from such a foundation starts from an assumption ea,s:Iy
shown by psychology and history to be erroneous. Rothe
went even farther astray. He represented not only the
bare consciousness of God but the Christian, yea, the
evangelical God-consciousness, as a simple and primary
datum of consciousness. This was utterly arbitrary. It
was to treat as an original apprehension what is indubit-
ably an acquired experience. No a priori system — no
properly deductive system — can be reasonably imagined to
have such a starting-point. For these and other reasons,
theological speculation of the kind advocated by Rothe
may be rejected.
Still another species of theological speculation, however, The_
has been attempted and commended, — one which seems ScKrifi-
more modest, and claims to be more distinctively Christian. *"'*'■ ""
It is the method advocated and exemplified in the Schrift-
beweis of Von Hofmann. He, instead of starting like
Rothe with the religious consciousne.ss, chose to start from
a real concrete fact, what he caHs the Christianity of the
Christian, — a Christianity which he supposes to have
acquired in the Christian a separate standing of its own,
in virtue of which, and independently even of Scripture, it
is self-evident certain truth sustained and authenticated by
the Spirit of God. From this fact or experience, e.xpressed
in its simplest and most general form, as a personal re-
lationship or fellowship between God and man through
Jesus Christ, Hofmann would deduce the whole theological
system by a process of " thinking within " the central fact,
so as logically to evolve from it its manifold wealth of
contents, and woidd refrain on principle from looking out-
wards, and taking into account the religious facts presented
by history, experience, or Scripture. Now, in this system
also, speculation is in excess. Such a speculative deduc-
tion of facts from facts as is contended for is impossible.
Facts are not so involved in one another that they can be
evolved from one another by mere thinking, and still less
so that from one fact a whole system of facts can be thus
evolved. ■ From a single. bopo, indeed, of an animal which
he has never seen or heard of a naturalist may in thought
correctly, construct the whole skeleton, but not by think-
ing within oi» from the one fact before him, but by
making use of all the knowledge he has acquired of the
structure of animals, of the relations of bones to bones.
Dr Hofmann himself was quite unable to carry out the
method he contended for. His so-called speculative argu-
ments are mere semblances of what they profess to be.
Instead of the contents of his system being really " de-
rived " from the simplest expression of the fact of Chris-
tianity, new propositions are constantly borrowed from the
known contents of Christianity, acd sdded from without
UO&D..
THEOLOG Y,
27i:
Spec a .
l-.tiOR
•*Arv tc.
irue ■'ys
atioa ;
to the simplest expression, in ordcFto belp out tlic unfold-
ing of tbe system. Fuitlier, in Hofmann's system of
speculation, as in that of Rolhc, we arc asked to start
from an assuiniJtion which is not, and cannot be, justi-
fied— the assumption that Christianity in the Christian is'
indcpcmlent of its objective grounds. Surely every es-
"pericncc may reasonably be called upon to produce evi-
dence of its legitimacy and validity, and, if so called upon,
Low can it avoid referring to its grounds 1 It is only by
an examination of the grounds of an experience that we
can know whether it is an experience of reality or a form
or etfcct of illusion: The fact from which we are told by
Hofmann that we must deduce all other facts is only itself
intelligible in tbe light of many of these facts, and even
of the Christian system as a wholo ; it is a fact which has
many conditions, and the right understanding of it rctiuiros
Us bciug viewed under its various conditions, not as ab-
^stracied from and independent of them.
In the forms indicated, then, speculation has failed to
make good its claim to participate in the formation and
development of theology. Docs it follow that its claim is
.wholly unfiiunded? By no means. Speculation in the
forms described pretends to an independence of reality and
^a creative power for which there is no warrant in reason or
confirmation in fact. Hence the futility of such specula-
tion is no disproof of the utility of a siieculation which
will fully recognize reality and directly endeavour to
elucidate it. Speculation of this latter kind seems to be a
necessary condition of true systematization and a neces-
-sary >iip[ilcinent to induction and to all the special methods
«>r particular sciences. In a true philosophy, for instance,
science and speculation must necessarily be combiucd. So
far from claiming independence of the sciences, a true
philosophy will base itself upon them, and seek to rise
above tlicm by means of thi^m. It is only thus that it can
-hnpe to reach the ultimate universal and real principle of
knowledge and being, without which there can be no rest
for reason or unity in the universe. But, having ascended
by an analytic and inductive course to the unity of an
allcoinpichensive ultimate principle, philosophy niust en-
deavour to descend from it in a synthetic and deductive
mann'-r, ao as to exhibit the whole org.mism of existence,
or to determine how the many laws of science and the
iinany facts of experience are connected with the absolute
■in being and' causation, and through it with one another.
[It is conceivable that the descent should be accomplished
in various ways, and Plato and Plotinus, Du.scaitcs and
Spinoza, Fichte, Schelling, Hegel, Krause, Gioberti, and
others have attempted it each in a way of his own; but
two things are obvious, namely, that philosophy cannot
conoistently decline the task, and that any method it may
adopt in trying to iicrforin it must be one essentially
speculative. An inductive and analytic method is clearly
inapplicable, for the highest and last results of induction
and analysis are just what are to be elucidated through
being viewed in relation to the one supreme truth or fact.
And among the data with which philosophy must thus
synthetically or speculatively deal are those of religion.
It icfiuires to show how what theology teaches as to God's
nature and operations comports with what itself affirms as
to the ab.-iolnte source and ground of existence, and this
necessarily •commits it to have recourse to a theologico-
spcculative u.sc of reason. And to a very large use of it
if, for example, theism be true; since, in this case, the
."ili^nlute principle of philo.inphy can be no other than God
Himself, aud its highest task no other than to show Him to
be the essence of all existence, the light of all knowledge.
In this case philosophy must inevitably become in the
highest stage of its dcvclopmrnl a s]icculative theology.
Nor can positive ihi'ology disi.n-.ise with .specnUiion. It
cannot, indeed, begin with it or confine itself to il<^ — cannot '»nd ana
start with some single immediately certain xeligious fact, ^""'j^
and then by mere force of logic evolve ihtit'elfora a whole indue
theological system. _It8 data arc all real facts of religion, 'ion-
and these it must deal with, m the first place, mainly by
observation and induction. But observation and induction
will not always alone lead to a satisfactory result. Obser-
vation is confined to experience, which gives only the par-
ticular. Induction, in so far as it effects a transition from
the particular to the general, already involves the activity
of speculative reason ; it makes discoveries only when
guided by theory ; it can never of itself reach ultimate
truth ; and it is manifestly not its function to raise
coherent comprehensive systems on their proper construc-
tive principles. Thcni the theologian who renounces
speculation must deal most inefficiently with the chief
ideas and doctrines of his science. Consider the greatest
idea of all — the idea of God. Mere observation and in-
duction do not yield the idea. Exclusively a[4jlicd, they
cannot take us beyond the contingent and conditioned,
cannot take us beyond atheism and secularism. Waive,
however, this objection, and grant that the idea of God
may be given, say, through revelation. What sort of idea
must it be in the mind of the theologian who refuses to
speculate'! Merely that of a complex of the attributes
predicated of God in the Bible. Surely that is unworthy
to be accounted an idea of God at all. The theologian
who is in earnest with the idea of Cod, who would find
order and light in the idea, who would think of Him as He
is. Absolute Being, Harmonious Life, Infinite Personality,
Perfect Spirit, Ultimate and only Complete Explanation of
the Universe, must assuredly speculate, and speculate freely
and largely, although he ought also to do so humbly and
reverently. Even if he would maintain that we cannot
have a knowledge of God as He is — that we must renounce
the hope of a speculative knowledge of Him, and be con-
tent with a merely regulative knowledge, — he will find
that he needs, as Kant, Hamilton, Mansel, and Spencer
have practically so fully acknowledged, speculation, and
n»uch speculation, to support his thesis. The mind is not
necessarily relieved from the duty of exercising specula-
tive thought on the nature of God by receiving a special
revelation regarding God. Christianity is a proof that
such revelation maj;-bnly increase obligation in this re-
spect. It brought with it a wondrous idea of God, one
of marvellous practical efficacy, but one also which forced
Christian reason into paths of speculation, which could
only be formulated after lengthened and severe speculative
labour, and which no intellectually or si)iritually quickened
soul can accept otherwise than with speculative exertion.
And this may show that speculation is as legitimate and
applicable within the sphere of Christianity as within that
of general theology. The comprehension of Christianity
requires that we penetrate to its di.stinctive and central
principle, and view all its contents in the light of that
principle. It is only so that we can hope to accomplish
either a true systematization or a true elucidation of its
contents. The procedure by which this is effected cannot
be one of mere formal logic, of pure deduction, or strict
demonstration ; it must be one which implies a constant
reference to facts and inductive results ; but still it must
be one which is essentially synthetic and speculative.
Theology is a unity, a whole, but n very complcs unity, a whole Reliiinn
of many dissimilar pitrts It may bo spoken of in a broad aud of ili«
general way as a science, but not less correctly as a department of tliw.-
sciences. It includes many studies or disciplines which may be logic il
cultivated in a scientific spirit and according; to scientific inethods, 8cnir.i.i»
aud llieso studies or disciplines, while closely connected, are a>so
clearly distinct. They are by no menus mere divisions of a epcci;-!
science. Natural theology and Christian dogmatics arc as distiui't
from Aach other a* pViy.virs is from chemistry or a:;-.lcny fiom
physiology. ComparLitivo theolu^Ty and biblical tJ. '■'.'*■';/ arc an
272
THEOLOGY
distinct from each oLher as tho stufly of the general history of
mankind is from the study cf the history of England.
Hence arise a number of problems. How are the theological
scieocfs related to the non-theological sciences and to one another?
ilow are they located in the vast organism of science as a whole?
and how are they connected with one anotlior so as to form a
smaller organic whole in themselves' What principles have they
in common, and what taski are proper to each' Wherein do they
a^ee and wherein do they dttfc." in their methods of research?
These are very important questions. There cannot be an earnest
and scientific study of theology where they are overlooked. It is
Encycio- the special task of the theological discipline called "encyclopedia
pxdia of of theology" to discuss and answer them, — or, in other words, to
theology, determine the boundaries of theology, to exhibit and explain its
i.iner organization, to indicate its nomponent parts, and to trace
their relations both to one another and to the theological system
' as a whole This discipline is, therefore, the appropriate scientific
approach and introduction to theology and to the various theological
sciences.
It is of comparatively little importance whether or not it be
itself called a theological scienre. Strictly spe. hing, perhaps, it
is rather a section or prolongation of that division of general
philosophy which treats of the relations of the sciences One of
the tasks of philosophy is to define and distribute, classify and
co-ordinate, the sciences, so as to exhibit them as parts of an har
monious cosmos oi members of a well-propurtioncd corpus But
philosophy, when in the pursuit of its merely general ends, cannot
be expected to gn in^o details and to concern itself with all the
aubdivisioiis and ramifications of science. It will be content to
trace main lines, to appreciate leading principles, processes, and
results, and, in a word, to exhibit the organic unity and variety of
science as a whole. It will leave the exact and exhaustive dis-
tribution and survey of any particular kind or group of sciences to
those who are extensively and minutely acquainted with that kind
or group of sciences. The comprehensive philosophic survey of
any order or department of studies is the en1:yclop?edia thereof.
Hence there is encyclopaedia of mathematics, of physics, of philo-
logy,' and of jurisprudence, as well as of theology EncyclopLcdia
of philosophy, however, comprehends all the departmental encycio-
piedias of science And this for the simple reason that philosophy
is inclusive and unitivp of all science As scientia scicntiarnm
philosophy 18, as Hegel has aptly said, " wesentlich Encyclopadie."
Hence theological encyclopaedia — the encyclopaedia of the sciences
conversant with religion — may reasonably be held to be essentially
a prolongation, a direct continuation, of philosophy
Theological encyclopcedia has had its course determined by the
general movement of theology The various theological disciplines
required to be evolved before they could be co-ordinated The
designation "theological encyclopa;dia" first occurs in its curr^t
teclmical sense \n'^\nx%\nxiSL^Vriv\xLinem Encyclopxdiw. Theologicm
(1764) It was only with the publication of Schleiermaclier's
Kurzt Darstcllung des thcologischni .Studiians in 18U that the full
scientific importance of the discipline w;is made evident It has
since been dihgently cultivated in Germany, and is at length find-
ing recognition in other countries
There are, however, serious defects even in the latest and best
expositions of it Two of these may be noted as being jpo serious
that, owing to their jirevalence, theological encyclopredia can hardly
be said to have even yet entered a truly scientific stage One is the
virtual or express identification of theology with Christian theology.
All the chief theological encyclopredists of Germany— Hagenbach.
Lange, Rabiger, Rothe, Von Hofmann — follow Sclileiermacher
in this amazingly absurd procedure. Logically the Brahmanist,
Buddhist, and Mohammedan might with equal justice identify all
theology with their own. The superiority of Christianity to other
religious, the uniqueness of Christianity among religions, does not
altor the nature or lessen the magnitude of the error Every ency
clopsedia of theology which confounds the general with the special
so completely as to identify theology with Christian tlieology for-
feits its title to recognition as scieniihc ; and almost all, even of the
latest end best theological encycloiircdias, do ao The other fault
rt-ferred to is that, even in the latest and best of theological ency-
clupaidias. the constitueut sciences of theology are not so co-
ordinated with reference to a centre as to render apparent their
crganiJ connexions The German encyclopaedists since Schleier
machcr claim, indeed, that they so distribute the various discijilines
of theology as to exhibit its natural organization But the claim is
not well founded In reality, their schemes of distribution have
no rcl unity They are simply arrangements of the various theo
logical disciplines in a fourfold, threefold, or twofold mafiDcr. i.e..
for example, as excgetical, historical, systematic, and practical,
Ds hiilorical, systematic, and practical, or as didactic and practical.
But this 13 merely cxlCTnal classification. It may be faultless of
its kind, but it cannot of itself yield more than a superficial and
mechanical arrangement of the theological sciences. Theology, to
be scientifically surveyed and distributed, must be viewed as a
unity, aad all its parts must be shown to bo included in it, and
to have a definite place in it from its very nature and definition,
as the science or philosophy of religion. Their relationship to one
another must be determined by their relationship to the whole of
which they are parts, to that science or rather philosophy which
treats of religion as a whole. They can only be unified and co-
ordinated in a truly organic manner by their due reference to
religion, and consequently proper inclusion and location iu tha
]ihilosoj)hy of religion. This necessity has as yet been only verbally
acknowledgcil by theological encyclopaedists. *
There is an all-comprehensive science of religion, — one which Philo-
treats of religion id its unity and entirety It alone completely sophy o
answers to thu idea and defimtiun of theology It is the one religion-
general theological science, comprehends and dominates the special
theological sciences, so as to be the science of these sciences, and
hence, in accordance with the true distinction between philosophy
and science, is properly called philosophy rather than science— the
philosophy of religion All philosophy is science, but all scienca
is not philosophy Philosophy, as distinguished from science, is
general or universal as distinguished from particular or special
science This distinction is, of course, not an absolute one, but of
degree — of more or less every other distinction between them,
however, is positively erroneous The one general theological
science is appropriately, therefore, termed philosophy It is the
philosophy of religion as there is a philosophy of nature and a
pliilosophy of mind, each inclusive of various sciences It is of the
very nature of philosophy to be buth before and after the sciences
to which it relates. —to be at once their root und result, and at the
same time their bond of union and source of lif** And the general
theology which may justly be identified with philosophy of reli
gion has undoubtedly held this relation t- the special theological
sciences It preceded them, being the germ from which they
evolved, the root from which they have sprung . it, has grown up
along with them, permeating them as their common life and it
also succeeds and transcends them, basing itself on them and per
fecting itself by means of them It is the one generic science of
the object with ^vhieh it deals, and vast enough to comprehend a
whole group of sciences, because its obiect — religion — is so rich,
complex, and varied
The primary task of a philosophy of religion is to ascertain and
exhibit the nature of religion Now, a general theory of religion
is the natural introduction to alt special religious studies and ti.eo
logical sciences, and yet can itself only be brought to peilcction
through the advancement of these studies and sciences For
example, we can only adequately understand the nature o( religion
through study of the history of religion, and yet we cannot trace
the history of religion at all unless we know generally what religion
is Again, in such works on Christian dogmatics as those of
Schenkel. Kahnis, Biedermann and Lipsius we find a consider-
able place assigned to an investigation into the general nature of
religion The investigation is manifestly not the'-o strictly appro-
priate , its true position can only be in another and wider science.
At the same time, it is undoubtedly a necessary antecedent to the
investigations of Christian dogmatics, from the very fact that
Christianity is a religion On the other hand. Christianity is not
only a religion, but a religion which claims to be the perfect or
absolute religion . and. clearly, if the elfiim be well founded, the
complete nature of religion can only be understood through that
full knowledge of Christiacity which Christian science may be
expected to give
From the very nature of religion the science or pliilosophy. which
treats of it as a whole must obviously be most comi)rehensive.
Religion is a relation between a worshipping subject and a wor-
shipped object It implies both distinction and unity Were
there no distinction between tlie subject and the object there would
be no religion whether the sell-identical unity were named God or
man Were there only di^Unclion between them — were God and
man absolutely separate from and indillerent to each other,—
religion must b*" lo this cas« also impossible Religion thus
supposes two factors which are ditft-reat yet related, so far distinct
and so far akin . and our views of religion must depend on our
views of these two factors It involves still more God does not
• The bcti aocnuni of the hl^lory ol thenlomc-il cncyrloprpdio Is il.flt Riven by
ItiiblyL-i in his Theo/x^ik win fiiuy.lofiflte xier ThruimVtc ( IWtiUj, ol wl.icli thcrc
iH Jin l.n^lish iijutslaiion wuh iioleB "Inch cotisiderubly Increase llic vjiluc of
the work by thv Kv J ftUc^jlicrson {'i vi.N lsH4) The accijunl In Zocklet's
Hamttufh 'Itr thfol IVuicnsiAa/Mi. i 67-111 (IB95). is abo fr'no-l The fullest
accouiil III ihc history n( nlipmpts lo clnsstf y ihe sciTicei. Is that ol ihu pitseut
writer In H>-€tbif Hev l.ir July IHK.'i aii<1 July 1S.SG The IoUowihk nuiy be
iIieL-ifii--laMinoi.i?ihk-ino5t U!.ef>il«(llit"l<»,'miU-Mcyclni.a;illns — Schlen-nimclicr'a
hu'ic Ifir^telhtui; t/r» thfol Stadiums, I-.t e»l IBIO.2.1 ed , IH^IO. Sttnnleim.aier's
t:nryclnpu<lie iter thtol Wxi^ietnchnfleii . .tc . IH,l4. Hdiifubueli'tt t'ncvclopdUie u^
Mctttodnluote dT thfid Witieuschaftm. lUlh cil , l«au. Crnoks ami Hurst'*
EncycU'ptedia and AtrOi'tdnlotfy, an thr Ituut of llaqv»bueh^ New ^ork, 18»4;
Doitk- i tncurlvpedtc der CVntsMylv TAco/wyir 2d cd , IHHJ. Unuc's O'utidii'i
dt-r ihrol t'lctfclo/iadtr, W7 , Von nofmanns /■:i,cs/fl0l'adtf der Tfifoto^n', l>^19;
Itotlies r/iiv/cviscAc ICttcj/ctvpadte. 1880; Dr.inimoild'a /ntrodncttun to t/ie Studlf
of Thfvltxjy. and Cave's hunnjuction to Ttuohgy. 1886 See also ihe article t4
WilUbald Orimm. •' Zur thcol Encycloijadie." In Ztichr f vi\%taisch T/ieot., 1882^
t ; aud GreUllat** Ezpote de Theologie SytUmattgue, voL i-, " I'repfiJeuIiquo,
1886.
THEOLOGY
273
act en man by the direct manifestation of His absolute essence, nor
does man know God by immediate vision. Take away the physical
and moral worlds and the written word and the Incarnate Word of
God — suppose, that is to say, both general and special revelation
removed — and an impassable chasm will separate man from God and
«ii religion be destroyed. The revelation in nature and the reve-
lation through particular inspiration and intervention, however,
bridge over "this chasm, and consequently religion is everywhere
fonnd existing in some form. But even revelation would be
nseless if man had not faculties to apprehend it and to avail him-
self of it The coramun'on of man vriih God supposes powers of
communion in man as well as in God. It can only be realized
through religious faculties and processes which can be analysed and
which have laws of exercise and • volution that can be traced.
F .rther, religion has a history which shows how man has interpreted
or misinterpreted the revelations made to him, what forms religion
h* assumed in various lands and ages, and how these forms— the
religions of the world— have arisen and spread, developed and
d xayed, influenced <7ne another and aSected morality, civilization,
aad general history Thus religion, from its very nature or idea,
rsQoires us to treat — (1) of the object of religion (God). (2) of the
uabject in religion (man), and (3) of the media and process of religion,
— or. in other words, (a) of the modes of Divine manifestation, (6) of
Jje powers of human apprehension of the Divine, and (c) of religion
'tself asa kind of psychical life. All the special theological sciences
deal with some of these themes, or some portion or portions of some
of these themes, m certain aspects, but the philosophy or general
science of religion deals with them all in their entirety and organic
connectedness, the form appropriate to philosophy— to science
which comprehends and thereby transcends special sciences.
For the philosophy of religion, as the highest discipline of theo*
togy, the most natural order to be followed in the treatment of its
themes is probably that which has been indicated. It is the order
which has been most commonly adoptctl in treatises thai aimed at sys-
tematic completeness. God, man. God's manifestation of Himself
to man. man s experience of God, and the development of religions,
— these are the topics, and such is, in the main, the order of their
discussion, usually found in philosophies of religion properly so
called. This is, however, because the philosophy of religion as a
distinct discipline presupposes the results of the several special
theological sciences. Theology ends as it begins, in unity ; but
the unity in which it ends is very different from that in which it
begins. It begins with the confused unity of common knowledge,
the complex and undifferentiated germ of the theological sciences ;
it ends with the unity of the clearest and deepest insight, in which
ftll distinctions are at once recognized and reconciled. This last is
the unity of that ultimate stage of theological knowledge which can
ftlone claim to be philosophical as distinguished rroin scientific ; and
it can only be reached by those who have attained to an adequate
mastery of all the sciences conversant with religion. The philo-
sophical student of the whole must have studied scientifically^ its
rirts, know what is to be known about them, and make use of his
nowledge in his own proper labours. The student of the parts
needs to know only in a general way what religion is, and must
follow in his studies an order of procedure determined by his lack
or limitation of knowledge. The course by which the mind traverses
the partial and special sciences of religion and rises to a philosophy
of religion cannot be the same as that through which it unfolds a
philosophy of religion itself, exhibits and confirms a religious theory
of the universe, and harmonizes and elucidates all results of theo-
logical researeh and all varieties of religious phenomena.
Tlie philosophy of religion is itself, of course, special in relation
to philosophy, of which it is only a department And there may
even be a special kind or form of the philosophy of religion, if that
kind or form be general enough to inclnde a natural group of theo-
logical sciences and to have regard to their collective effects. ,A
special religion may be so significant, so important, and the subject
or so many theological disciplines as to render indispensable the
division alike of the philosophy and of the sciences of religion into
general and special Christianity,' as the most perfect form of
religion, the fullest revelation of spiritual truth, the source and
theme of a large group of sciences, is such a religion. Hence there
may be, and should be, not only a philosophy of religion bat a
philosophy of Christianity, — not only a generically religious but a
specifically Christian theory of the universe. If the claims of
Christianity be warranted, if in it religion and revelation were
consommated, the philosophy of religion can only reach a satis-
factory conclusion when it has passed into a philosophy of Christi-
anity, or, in other words, attained such a comprehension of existence
and life in relation to the person and work of Christ as is possible
to the human spirit The jthilosophy of Christianity must obviously
be connected with all Christian disciplines in the same manner as
the philosophy of religion is with all other theological disciplines.
History The history of the philosophy of religion -has, of course, oeen
•f philo- closely conjoined with the histories both of theology and of
topby of philosophy, uid influenced by all the causes which have affected
. ligioiL them. In the wide sense of religious reflexion it is as old as
23—12
either philosophy or theology. As a distinct department of
philosophy, and the highest and most comprehensive theolugieal
science, it is of comparatively recent origin, and, indeed, youugei
than many a living individual ; but even in this latter sense tha
whole histories both of philosophy and of theology Imve been
needed as the preparation and foundation for it It could only
appear in its alone adequate form when both philosophy and
theology were highly developed, when both had freed themselves
from the yoke of all authority save that of truth and reason, when
both had discovered their appropriate methods, when they could so
combine as to do no violence to the proper nature of either — a kind
of combination most difficuU to accomplish. But this, as might
easily be shown, was not bef_re philosophy and theology became at
once critical and speculative, or, in other words, before that great
revolution of thought with which the names of Kant, Hegel, and
Schleiemiachcr are so gloriously associated. Only in the present
century have philosophy and theology reached the stage in which
they can unite and produce a philosophy of religion. And within
the century many philosophies of religion have made their appear-
ance, especially in Germany. Indeed, all the more eminent philo-
sophers of Germany have fully recognized that a philosophy of
religion is a most essential department of philosophy. That not
a few of the so-called philosophies of religion produced have beeu
Very defective and erroneous is only what was to be expected. The
worth of a man's philosophy of religion cannot be greater than the
worth of his philosophy and theology in geuenil It is impossible
that the philosophy of religion of an Hegelian and a Neokautist can
accord, very possible that both may be far remote from the truth.
If empiricism, positivism, or materialism be true philosophy, or if
authority be the foundation of religion and the standard ot theo-
logy, a philosophy of religion must be illegitimate and superfluous.
When religion is assumed to consist merely of beliefs, emotions,
and actions which have no objective grounds, no real and rational
basis, its development can only be an object of history and of
psychological analysis, and there can be no philosophy of religion,
but simply a science of religions, which, seeing that it deals,
entirely with certain forms of mental disease and delusion, must
be deemed merely a department of mental pathology. A philo-
sophy essentially religious must combme with a theology essentially
rational in order to yield what deserves to be called a philosophy
of religion. If religion be the living apprehension and enjoyment
of the truth which philosophy has for its mission to seek to com-
prehend, then, but only then, must a philosophy of religion bo
necessary alike to philosophy and religion *
We now pass to special theological disciplines which can at the Special
utmast merely become sciences as distinguished from philosophy, theo-
They all deal with religion, each of them treating of some particular logical-
portion or a<»peLt of it ; and the order and mode in which they do sciences: —
so determines their relations to one another and the order of their
succession If we would rise, for example, through study of the
parts or phases of religion in a sure and natural manner to a
knowledge of it as a whole, we must necessarily begin with what
of it is nearest and most accessible to us. But what is so is its
history In its historical manifestation it is a phenomenon which Historical;
no one can refuse to acknowledge. The history itself, however, is
nut only a most extensive but a very complex phenomenon It is
external and internal, corporeal and spiritual, a histor}' of outward
events and actions, institutions and rites, and aho of ideas, con-
victions, and atTections- \Vhat is external is nearer and more
accessible to us than what is internal, and it is through the former
that we must penetrate into the latter. They cannot be quite
separated, for the external is only intelligible through the inter-
nal, and the internal only attainable and vi ifiable tiirough the
external ; but they can be so far differentiated, and there is a
history mainly of what is external in religion and another mainly
of what is internal The ordinary history of religion is mainly
concerned with tracing the growth of religion in its most apparent
form and institutioual character It may be divided into three
great sections — the ethnic. Biblical, and ecclesiastical, — the history
of the heathen religions, the historj* of the Jewish religion and ol
the rise of Christianity, and the history of the Christian church
> There is a laborious and Impartial history of the philosophy of religion by
Bemhartl Piinjer. Ceschichte der chr%sllicfi£n ReligionsphUoiophU, 2 \ol'»., ISSO-
83 Of this valuable work an Enjtllsh traaslation is soon lo appear Som«
chapters of the history have been ably written by O. Pfleidei-er ia his Religions-
p/iilosophie auf geschichUicher Grundlage, 18S4. a first volnme of a tranalatjon of
which has been published For a list of worliS on the philosophy of religion the
last edition of Hagenbach may be consulted Here the following only can tw
mentioned : — Heg€l, Philoiophie dtr Religion, 'i vols. , lJ=32 ; Krause, Die absolute
ReligicTLSphi/osopfiie,11\o\$^ 1S35; Oh\en. Religionspftilosophie itt ihrer Cebcrein-
stimmtuig mii Vernunft, Geschichte, u«d O/nifca'i'n;?. 1S35; Billroth, Vorltsungai
iitrer Reltgiomphilosophie, 1S3": Steffens, Chnstiiche ReligiOTUphilosophie,2voU,.
1839 ; Taute, RAxgionsphilosophie, vom Sinndpwikie der PhUoiophie f/etbarls,
2 parts, 1840-52 ; Rothe. T^eologtsche ii'fAii-. 3 vols.. 1845 ; Weisse. Philosophisrht
DogmtUit oder PhVoiophie des Cfiristeiithumy 3 vols., l&55-6"2; Apelt, Religious-
pAt7owpAt€, i860; Sttickl Z^ArftwcA dfr Rehgionsphilosophie^2&ei., 1878; Lotze
OrMndtvge der Religicnspfiitotop/tie, l^Si ; Von Hartmann, Religion des Geist-i
J883 ; TeichmliUer. Religionsphiiosophie, 1886; Morell. Fhilotophy of Reltgwi.
1849; Caii-d. Jniroduciion to H** FkHMophy 0/ ReligioJt. I8'6; Morris, PhUosopk-
and au-ittianily, U&a
XXm. — 35
274
THEOLOGY
Whether history in this form, eveo when studied io the most
accnrate and thorough mauDer, should be called science may be
doubted, as it is simply occupied with the discovery and description
of the [mrlicular and concrete. It is not usual so to deaignate it
in any of ita sections. The history of religious beliefs and ideas
may be as purely and properly history as that of external inititu-
tions. aud transaction* It deals, however, not only with what
ia internal aod spiritual but also with what ia abstract and generaj,
and henc*i it is at least more akin to science than is common
history, and its sections are often called sciencea. These sections
are three in number, and rorrespond to the sections of the ordi-
nary history They are known as comparative theology. Biblical
theology, and the "history of Christian doctrine. To the last of
these, symbolics may fairly claim to be a necessary supplement.
They are quite distinct from a conceivably attainable knowledge of
the laws of religious history, such as might be with strict propriety
deatgaat«d science of religiou.^ history, a department of science of
history Of historical science iu this last sense there is as yet
«xtremely little.
Psyciio- Reh^on is a spirrtual process, and its history continuously
logical ; implies the affections «nd uperations of mind The historical
treatraeot of religion, therefore, necessarily Leads to its psycholog
ical treatment The history alike of reli^ous events and actions
and of religious ideas and beiiefs can only be explained through
a knowledge of the religious powers and processes, i.?.. of the
psychological fa^'tors and states which condition and determine
Its development The psychological study of religion, although it
has been greatly neglect*;d. should reach over a very large dej-arl-
ment of theology The department ruay be distributed into tbiee
disciplines —the general, comj^rative, and special psychology of
religion The 6r3t should treat of the general religioud nature of
man , the second should discover and compare the psychical peculi
•rities to be found in the various' religions, and the third should
•xhibit elaborately the psychology of a particular religion. &s, e g ,
Biblical and Christian psychology
Apolo The historical and psychological sciences of religion deal with
geUc; religion merely as an historical and psychological phenomenon
They do not imply its truth, and can be cultivated by those who
regard it as a delusion equally with those who ai;knowIedge it to
l>e a certainty It is the office of apologetics to determine whether
or not it IS true and how far it is true. If it end not in a negative
Jesuit, in agnosticism or atheist, it must prove that God reveals
fcimself to man, and that man apprehends God In other words,
apologetics treaty of the media of revelation — alik« the objective
and so^ijective. Divine and human media —and so is the science,
on the cue hand, of revelation, and, on the other baud, of rt^ligious
certitude It is divisible into general and special, or, in equivalent
terms, into theological and Christian apologetics, -the former being
the scientific exhibition of the grounds of natural religion, and the
latter of the grounds of the Christian religion They are aome
times combined, inasmuch as both are needed m order to establish
the truth 9f Christianity In Germany it has W-'ome not uncom
mon to fuse them into one under the name of fundamental theology,
described as the scien'*e which treats of thy foundation of Chris-
tianity And, undoubtedly, it is not only expedient but even
necessary to treat of both as introductory and nr**parHtory to the
construction of Christian science But the JistiD'^tion between
them must not, therefore, be forgotten or ignoied Theological
apologetics minht be irresustihle although Christian apologetics
were futile Theological apologetics derives its validity from its
relation to natural theology, which has an absolute value of its
own, wholly independent of any other science, of Christianity, or
of anything else The alliance of theolotjicai and of Christian
apologetics 'x» perfectly legitimate, the attempt to combine theiu
into a single science, into a single horoogeoeous discipline, is
decidedly the reverse.
Syatera* The highest stage of theological science is the methodical educa
atic- lion and exhibition of the truth involved in reliyiou, either as con
tent? of faith or elements of life When conversant with the faith
It is dogmatics, when with the life ethics; but, of course, here
again distinction is not to be confounded with separation True
faith IS living faith, and true life is the life of faith. Dogmatics
• and ethics are so intimately related that it is not surprising that
they should have been long left undilTerentiated, or that a few
eminent theologians should still deny that they can be properly
treated ajtari. Theology at thb stage is commonly designated
systematic, although the term is not a good one. and others, little
if any better perhaps, as didactic, theoretical, positive, thetic, &c ,
have been suggtsted as substitutes. Systamatic theology, like
histonccl, mychologi':al, and apologetic theology, is dirisiole tnto
general and special, the former including nntural theology aud
theological ethics, and the latter Christian dogmatics and Christian
ethics- The identification, so common in Britain, of systematic
tbeologv with Christian dogmatics is, of coarse, solely due to the
survival among Uiof prescientific thought and language in theology.
The historical and psychological sciences of religion may be con
joined under the desi^oatioa of empirical, or phenomenoloihcal. or
historical (in the widest aense), the apologetic and systematic
sciences under that of didactic, thetic, speculative, or systematic
(in a loose sense). This twofold division of them is the one gene
rally adopted And as it rests on an obvious and important dia
tinctiun it ia fully etititled to acceptance, provided it be so received
as not to hide or extrude the fourfold division lounded on the real
moments or stages of the process of theological Investigation
There are a considerable uumber of disciplines not included in
the divisions indicated, yet for which the theological encyclopaedist
is bound to find appropriate pieces The best classificatioQ of these Rxegeti
is into exegetical and practical. So railed exegetical theology, cal »nd
however, is in all its departments simply instrumental and intro- practical
ductory to historical theology ; and practical theology is in all its theology
departments concerned with the use and application of reUgiouj
knowledge, not with its acquisition and advancem*>nt. The former
13 not directly occupied with religion but with the records and
documents from which its history must be ascertained , the latter
is art and not science
Consii^nng theology, then, only as science directly engaged oo
religion, the following are the sciences which belong to generaJ
theology — ( I ) the history of r>:ligions, I'J) comparative theology,
(3) psychology of religion. (4) theological apologetics, (5) naturaj
theology , aud (6) theological ethics. Those of Christiaa theology
are (1) Biblical history, (2) ecclesiastical history. (3; Biblical
theology, (4) history of Christian doctrine, (5) symbolics. t6)
Biblical and Chnstiau psychology. (7) CBristian •p<ilwgetic8 . (8)
Christian dogmatics; and (9) Christian ethics The remainder of
this article will be devoted to a brief indication of the nature of
such of the above studies as have not already been treated of id
separate articles.
The history of religions and comparative theology differ from Hislory o*
each other as saovd history and Biblical theokigy Or ecclesiaitical religions
history and the history of Chribtian doctrines differ That they and com
should rarely be distinguished proves only that the ethnic sa-red paraMve
books have not yet been so closely studied as the Bib'e. and that ibefjlogy
the histories of the great ethnic religious are not yet so well known
as the history of Christianity As rfjiards both the history of
religions and comparative theology, see Kp.liuioNs.
The general psychology of religion should analyse the religious Psycho
nature of man and trace the laws of its development It has to log? o'
ascertain the prijiciples which guide reason in the sear'-h after God , religio*
to determine what subjective religion is. what elements it involves,
and through what stages it may pass, and to show how the under-
standing aud imagination, the emotions and atl»>ctions. the qualities
and energies <)f will, operate in religion and influence iti rhara''ter.
While general psychology of religion thus treats man as fmmed
and 6lted for religion, the compnralive psychology ol religion
treats of the psychological coiuposiliou and peculiarities of the
various concrete and collective manifestations of religion It is
related to the general psychology of religion as coniparative
psychology to general psychology It must concern itself with ths
religions of the rudest peoples It has to explain what b (isycDO-
logically distinctive of fetich ism. animal worshi[t, nfftui-alistic
religions like the Vcdic, anthro[>omorphic polythcisnia like those
of Greece and Rome, and pantheisms like Brahmauism and Bud-
dhism For example, in each of these fonm* of religion imagination
works differently, and the comparative psychology of religion
should give ft complete view of the operations of imagination in the
formation of the religions of humanity So as regards all the chief
intellectual pnnciples and all the chief sentiments
The psychological study of religion was not, as is often said, be
gun by Kant. Hume -in virtue of his Natural Hisivry nf H^hgion,
with its clear recognition of the dislinctron between the '■uiists and
the reasons of religion — is much more entitled to be considered
Initiator in this department, but even his claim may be rontested
The department is one of which there is as yet no general furvey.
and of which many j^-ort'ons have been entirely oveilouked What
the ordinary psychologists e g . Bain. Sully, Thompson. Kabier,
Fortlage, Strumpell. Volkmaon. Wundt say regarding it i» very
vague and meagre. The oiily two points which nave been closely
investigated are those as to the nature of religious cognition and
the essence of religion, and as to both sj»eculation hn.n been fre-
quently allowed to disturb and pervert psychological an&l>8ia
For some of the later literature on these pviDts, see notes on -iiticle
Tbeism Ntither the general nor the comparative psychol'i^-y of
religion as yet exists in a pppsrate and appropriate form What
religious psychology there is will t»e found chiefly in tlie aTitings
of anthropologists HVe Bastian and Tylor, of comparative philo-
logists like Max MuUer and Steinthal, of philosophers like Spencei
and-Eenouvier. of theologians of the school of ScLleiermacLer. awi.
above all, in the histories of religioos and the pLUosophieti oi
religioh.'
Theological apologetics is not to be confounded with natural
I AUtott'i Piychclo^ and Th^>lo^. Ke-rman Smyth't RtligiovM FetltnQ,
BriDton'l fi«lif;tcvi Sentiment. Hsppel a Anlaffe da Mtfuchan no- RetiffUm.
Ulricli Oou and Mensch. and Leibaiellle* - Baaen PsycholoirlQurt de 1« Rait
giOD" (iwo anldes tn R€*. FhU.. vol lal, 1806) utijr be tiwcisUy metaiiuo«4.
THEOLOGY
275
ThMofl:!- theoloc)'. from wliit^ it is as distinct as Christian apologetics is
cai apoU^ from CnrUtian dogmatics. Jt lays a foundation for natural tneology,
?tfacsL inasmuch as it vindica.tes religion by shomng that it rests on
objecrire spiritual truth. It presupposes a knowledge of religion
aa an historical and psychological phenomenon, but none of natural
theology, which it, of course, leaves as a science to establish ils owti
doctrines. It has the following tasks to perform. (1) To show
that man is capable of apprehending the divine. This requires the
refutation of agnosticism and the vindication of the principles
implied in religious knowledge and certitude * (2) To prove the
reality of a revelation of the Divine in physical nature, mind, and
history The results of, the vanous sciences will thereby be shown
to be data of theology. It requires the refutation of atheism, mate-
rialism, positivism, and secularism, and of all principles which
logically involve these systems. (3) To exhibit the reasons for the
true conception of the Divine, and to expose the arguments em-
ployed in favour of false conceptions. The defence of theism, fnr
exansple, must be accompanied by proof of the erroneousness and
insumciency of the polytheistic, dualistic, deistic. and pantheistic
hypotheses. (4) To adduce whatever evidence may be contained
in general revelation for the immortality of the soul and a future
state of rewards and punishments.
N&toral Natural theology is the systematic exposition of the truths in
theology natural or general revelation. Its data are the farts and laws of
nature, as ascertained by physical, mental, and historical science.
Its inductions and inferences relate to God, men. and their rela-
tionship. Its appearance as a distinct science niay be dated from
the publication of Raymond de Sebonde .<? Theolo^m Naiuralis in
1436, although portions of it had been admirably presented by
ancient philosophers, e.g., Socrates. Plato. Ansioiie. and Cicero.
It flourished with extraordinary vigour in the latter half of the
17th and throughout the 18th century. It should endeavour
to perform the following tasks (I) To descnbe the nature,
character, and attributes of VtcA. so far as they are disclosed
by the material world, mmd. and history. f2» To treat of God
in relation to the world and man. and of the world and man m
relation to God. under which head ail questions as to creation, pro-
vidence, theodic^e, optimism and pessimism, education nf the
human race, &c., \~ill fall to be d'scuss^d from the standpoint of
general revelation. ^3) To determine, so far as can be done from
general revelation, what man may reasonably hoiM* for as to deliver*
ance from am and its consequences, and what he mav reasonably
bplieve as to the conditions of existen.'e in a future "^orld As to
this third jKiint the view is prevalent that the light of nature dis-
closes nothing regarding man's salvation nr future destiny. But
does this View not ansa from overlooking that the kingdom of God
IS within, and from falsely supposinf; that salvation is entrance into
an external, non-sfuritual heat'en on contlitions which, being in
themselves non-natural cannot he naturallv kn(^>wn ' The ht'aihen
■ations have certninly not supposed nature to be wholly silent and
dark on the subject In evt*ry develoj»ed eihnir religion there is
« sotenolof;v and e.ichatolot;v a.** well as a theology .^Ian is no-
where necessarily without hope any more than without God in the
world.'
Theo Theological ethics differs from natural theology in that it seeks
ogical in nature, viewed as a Divine revelation, laws ot spinrual life, not
«thica. merelv religious doctrines, lis place is between moral philosophy
and Chnstmn ethics. It is unmistakably distinct from both, and
may be more plausibly included in natural theology than in either
It should endeavour f 1 > to determine how relipon and morality are
distinct and how connected ; (2l to ascertain how moralitv has been
affected and modified by the various positive ethnic religions and
the various religious but non-Chnstian philiwophiea . (Z) toexhibit
how the character of God. as delineated by natural theology, stands
related to the moral law, the moral life, and the chief ethical end
or supreme good of man . (4) to de.scnbe the duties which the light
of nature shows that man owes directly to God . and fSj to ti^re how
piety to God must inflnence f>ersonal and social virtue Unlike
moral philosophy and Christian ethics, it can hardly be satd to
have been yel treated as a separaip discipline and presented as
t whole Daub and Marhemeke have indeed, written works
nominally on Thfxtlo^vuil MiyraJs and Hothe and V'on Hofmann on
TheoloTif'al Uthics. but in ail these works it is really Christian
ethics which is exhibited to us under certain speculative lights.
There is. however, a verj- extensive literature relating to particular
1 For the hteraiore on airno.«ici!iTn. »ec flh^**. p 24G note 2.
* For thtf llieraiurp o( apalol:etIl-^ (iheolo,..caJ and Chnnttan). »ee Redford'a
Chrtstum Pieaagaxnu Moderrt CnUixTf, pp 497-S.13 For m lisi of the b^sx works
on theolo,jicala,<olog'euciian'l oaturnl theoiocy Bee Cave s Introduaumto Th&nloqy.
pp. l4ft 161 lodicauoos a.« to ttip history anil literature ii( manv panuular
questj'.n* an'* portions of both di^iplmt-fi ar*" given m the n('te> to Mini's l^mm
Asd Antiiii^xsiu Thfor^n One of the N-st sketches o( the history of natural
th'4>l&jr» t« Ihat ID Zockler'i Theciogta Aaiuro'tt Here 'i may be ourfloen: lo
n.cnti.-r the followini: wo'ks — bu er s Ataio^ir Paiey » ,Vatwai ThevU-ci/ .
Chm\tncrt^ Natural Thtolo^i/-. iht Bful^eitatf T^'o/ts^i Thompson c Theum ,
Tnlloch't T'trum . M'Cosh # MetfiO-i n' tfte /itnnf Cotrr^mrrU L'IriCi's OoU urid
^h4 yatur , Jales Simon's Aa/ura. ftrlipionitue tr i Jutiet s Final Cautet (Eng,
IT.); C*ro'9 //U' tu Dtm 6ib ed . Grairrs ConnoiMOTK* d« Dieu. 1th ed . and
.MArg&n« t, ThtQiluie. Id ed
problems and portions of theological ethics. ThuB what has been
just indicated as problem first — that as to the relation of religion
and morality — has been long much discussed.' The second problem
demands wide and close historical research ; it has been touched at
a multitude of points, -but only touched. - With the third problem,
or rather group of problems, almost all systems of Christian ethica
have to some extent dealt ; and with the fourth and fifth problems
&lm6st all systems of muraJ philosophy.
We now pass to Christian theology. Its historical section in- Biblical
eludes, besides the histories of Israel and the church (as to which and
-see IsBAFX and CnuRCH History), Biblical theology, the history church
of Christian doctrine, and Christian symbolics. hlstory.
All hermeneutical studu-s are auxiliary to exegesis, and all Biblical
Biblical exegesis leads up to that comprehensive and connected theology.
View of the development of LMblical ideas which it is the aim of
Biblical theology to set forth. Biblical theology is not to be under*
stood as meaning a theology lounded on the Bible — Christian
dogmatics under another name. It does not assume that th«
Bible 13 either a source or standard ,'»f truth. It does nor set forth
the ideas which it exhibits as true in themselves, but onJv as truly
in the Bible. It seeks no other truth than truth of exposition. It
aims at doing no more than giviug u trv»e account of what are the
religimis ideas in the Bible, of how they are related as 8Pt forth
in tlte Bible, and of what their history hi:s been throughout the
Biblical penod. Its sole busines.s is criiicaUy to ascerTain and
truthfully to exhibit what Scripture teachets what each writer,
even, of Scripture teaches, m a purely objective, organic, histonral
manner. It cannot possibly be confounded wii:h Christian -lo^-
matics by any one who has the slightest notiot* of what it la.
although the latter must m great part rest on it and deriv*; most of
its materials from it It is the ultimate direct result .-^nd the most
comprehensive and perfect product of Biblical exegesis, ind related
to the history of religious ideas as a part to the whole m whieh
it IS included, comparative theology preceding and the L..-torv of
Christian doctrine following iL It divides into theology O the
Old Testament and theoloj^ of the New Testament, huo lU
method is one appropriate to an historical discipline, ^nd. there-
fore, chronological, genetic, analytic, and synthpiic It is a rom-
panilively recently constituted departntent of theoloptal s* leo.-e,
both Catholic ami Protestant divioes having made for af:e^ the
enormous mistake of studying Scnpture — so far as th-^ir iuieret«t
therein was theoretical and not practical — pnmanly id order to h«d
proof of the doctrines contained m their creeds >iiid oonfesai.iue
They failed to apprehend and appr*^ciate the sPemmiriy vf>rv simple
thought that Scripture should be studied in the hrsi insuince with
a sini.de eye to find out what was really in it, and that to this end
the study of it should be stnctly and purely exepericai and his-
torical J Ph Gabler. in his thesis De Justo [hsmnnne Thtolo^im
BibliOE et Dogmat2c^, published in 1787. was the hrsf cJearly to
show the true character of Biblical theology as sn es-st-ntially
historical study Since then it has been cultivated with great zeal
by a host of able labourers *
The history of Chnst^an doctrine only began to be treated as History of
a separate theoloojcal discipline m the latter part of the I8th ChriMttar
century P.eviously it was dealt with as an appendix to dog- doctnne
niatics or as a part of church hi.story it is not an appendix to
dogmatics, but it includes its hi.^tory and contributes to lay &
foundation for it No doornne cm be either correctly undemtood
or riffhtlv developed where there is isnorance of it5> history The
history of Chn.stian doctrine is a pan of the history of Chnstianity,
namely, the history of Christian beliefs, as disiintruished, on the
one hand, from ih** history of Chnstian life and prarnce. and, on
the other hard, from the outward history of the church It is t
part also of the history of religious thought, and of the historv of
thought m general. an<l therefore closely connected with ihp history
of philosophy \t? development must be admitted to be ruied by
the general laws of the intellectual history of man It may bi
taken, hc^'evcr, *:: * *rid'=^'' or narrover s.';::s«. — in tlie forme?
being the history of Chnsrian thought ami helipf »s such, and
in the latter the history only of dogmas stm-tlv si- -aMed. i. ^. . of
doctrines formulated and promulgated by e'cl«^->iastical authority,
and accepted either by the whole church or by large divisiuns ol
the church. TTiere ought perhaps to be a history of doctrines in
both senses. One m the former sense has only been undertaken
recently by Harnack. The. method of the history of Christian
doctr.ne must be strictly historical, and at the same time both
analytic and synthetic, seeing that both the history of the separate
doctrines and the general and connected evolution of the doctrines
require to be traced. Its periods will coincide witii those of church
history, but they ought to be determined from direct examination
* The followm? references may be pi pen — the last chapter of Jan-'i * L<i
Morale; the first three chapters m Cam » Uoralo &>f lo/e . tT.uny artici^^-. and
revit^ws in Renouvier s Cridgve Phitoncy/ttqua . Martt-nsen'* ('Ai-iuiai £(Aia.
55 5-14. Pfleirterer's Moral vn4 Reti^tm . bi-ad)ey • £ifiirat Sttdut. pp. ^^19-
30S; and Coird s Jnirod m Phil of Ret-, ch Lx
• For the history ol Biblical thet>>oB) see Bncgs^ Bf^Hal S'vdw , for th«
lltertture Cave, Rafrenbach, liabicer. or Zttckler: iot % reltre&ce lo aoma o( U4
best works, tee Tbubm. ««^a, p V39 Dotf4 9 ud I.
276
T H E-T H E
of the development of the doctrines. It is incorrect, therefore, to
represent the discipline as having its general distribution into
periods given it by church history.'
Bym- Symbolics is the historico -com para live study of the dogmatic
b«Uc|L systems of the various Christian communions, as expressed and
involved in their symbolical document*. It treats of the origin,
history, and contents, and relations of ditVereuce and agreement,
of the various creeds and confessions of Christendom. It was pre
ceded by "polemics" and "controversial tlieology" — pre scientiHc
and anti-scientific kinds of theology. The older so-called system-
atic theologies and systems of divinity consisted largrly of sym
botical matter treated in an unscientific and ungenerous spirit
Christian dogmatics will never be properly purified until Christian
symbolics receives intelligent and due recognition, and has relegated
to it the subjects which properly belong to it Christian symbolics
may be said to have made its appearance as a separate scienti6c
discipline with Marheineke's Symbolik, published in 1810 Ttie
chief reason why it appeared thus late was the difficulty of exercis-
ing in this sphere the impartiality of the true historical spirit
The arrangement of its material is determined partly by the order
of succession in which the churches appeared in history and partly
by the historical importance of the dilTerent churches. " In some
treatises on symbolics the symbolical system of doctrine of each
chnrch is treated separately, while in others the several doctrines
of the various churches are compared together. Earh of these
mefhods has its advantages and disadvantages. Their combina-
tion is requisite. "2
BfhUeal The psychology of Christianity may he held to include Biblical
psycho*, psychology and the psychology of the Christian life It must be
log;'. admitted, however, that the right of the former to a place among
■• psychological sciences is doubtTul. It is universally gdmitted that
It ought to present what is taught in the Bible as to the origin,
nature, faculties, states, processes, and future devplopnient of the
human spirit, and also elicit the conceptions implied and pre-
supposed in the Biblical statements on these points. But if it do
this in a merely historical manner, and do nothing beyond this, it
must manifestly be regarded as simply a section of Biblical theology.
To be entitled to be considered a separate psychologiLO-theological
discipline it must at least also discuss the fjuestions as to the truth
of the ideas relative to the human spirit expressed and implied in
Scripture, as to their accordance with the facts of mind, and their
relationship to the conclusions of ordinary scientific psychology ;
and even then it may be held to be rather the result of a peculiar
combination of history, apologetics, and psychology than a pro-
perly psychological discipline. However this may be, the study is
an exceedingly intercstirg one. It has h:id a. lengthened history,
for in almost every generation since the 2d century treatises on
some of its subjects hav© appeared. It was inaugurated by Melito
and Tertullian, obtained in the 17th and 18ih centuries distinct re-
cognition under the designation of " p^iyohologia sacra" or " psycho-
logia e sacris Uteris coUecta," and acquired Iresh life and scientific
form from the pablicatioj of Beck's Umriss der biblischen SeelenUkre
in 1843.3
The psychology of the Christian life is a much more comprehensive
discipline than Biblical psychology, and cne as to the precise place
and scope of which no dubiety need be felt Its work is to elocidat^ nmsct**
all the distinctively Christian phenumtna both of tne individual psycb<»
and of the collective life As to the former it should evolve a logy
theory of personal Christian experience, normal and abiiorinal, in
its purity and in its perver:>ions As to the latter, it should explain
the spiritual experience of Christian soi:iety— the developmenl of
Christian piety— in ditferent ages, coiintrie"*, and chun he? For
the accomplishment of the (ormt-r task it will finW lit-lp and 'hHtern4|
in religious poetry, religious bi-tgruphy mui :iutobiooia|.Iiy, and all
other expressions and records ol persimal Christian e?i[»eriepce , and
for the accomplishment of the lati»-r in ull the sources and t'ontfiiis
of church history, although these luusl be used in acconUi.ce «ilh
the psycliologiea! p<jr(n)5e in view Christ iflO [wyrhttlouy thus
understood i? a departrn*-iii ©f theulosy still to lorni Anii the
<iifficulties 10 the "ay of Us foimaliun tiiust be «IIu«»ed .o b« v^ry
great. They "ill only bt: overeouie by men in whom piunmnd
psychological science ami i»>i^ht arocouibined with a rare suscepli
bility and richri>*ss of spmlual lif«
For Cliiistiyu iifKtlugeties. set Apoiooetic^ For Christian dog-
matics, see D'MiMAiic
ClirisliHn dognialK-s- and Christian ethics are the two disciplines Chrtstiao
included in Christian systematic theology They ought to he ethic?
separated and cnUivated apart, and yet must be recogui?''d to be
closely connected, and t-acb the necessary comptcnient ol ihe other
The former sees in Christ the truth and the way thereto . the
latter sees in Him the lile and the way thereto Cbri>ti(*n ethics
is much the more recent di^ipline of the two, and it hus not yet
attained the same detJnitene->s and bomogeneousnesa A'lke as to
method and distribution there is greater indecision and confusion
Among its eailier (ultivHtors were Danaeus. Calixtus. Perkins.
Ames, Cuhille. Mn>heini, CiHsiiis. Slaudlin, and ^ on An.nion
Schleierniat.hor may justly be regarded as the founder of modt-in
Christian ethics. His Mij-criority to his predecessors was due chielly
to his profounder App^ehe^^lon of the nature of the pioMems of
philosophical ethics, and to his comprehensive and (ipintual concep-
tion of the kingdom of Cvd as the highest good, peivasive and
regulative of every sphere of humao life, industry and art, science
and philosophy, family, '-hurch and state The following may be
givL-n as a scheme of Chrifitian etlncs 1 Determination of the
nature, limits, and nietliod of the science, »nd of it* relations to
oth^ir disciplines; and e.'ipecially "to those which are ethical and
theological II Presuppositions of the scifuce these are— iD the
ethical idea of God as revealed in nature and in Christ . (21 man as
a moral being and in his relation to the law and revelation of (Jod ,
(3) creation and providence as ethical systems, and (4) the king-
dom of God in itself, in relation to creation and pr..vidence. and
as the goal of moral life III. The fundHinenial concptions of
the science these are — (1) the Chris^tian ethical law ; (2) the
Christian conscience, (3) the Christian ethical ideal, anil (4)
Christian virtue. IV The reign of sin in the individual and
society viewed i.» the light of Christi.inity V The oiigin and
progress of the kingdom of God in the iiidividual soul, and it«
manifestation iu the viitues and graces of the Christian character.
VI The reali7ation of the kingdom of God in the vaiious spheres of
society— the family, the church, the nation • (R. F.)
THEOPHTLXJS. Nicholas Alemanni, in his notes lo
the first edition of the Anecdota of Procopius (see Pro
COPios), published in 1623, repeatedly quotes a Life of
Juslioian, which he attributes to "Tbeophilus Abbas,
praeceptor Justiniani," but without telling us where he
found this Life or who Theopbilus was. Subsequent
writers have continued to quote Theopbilus from Ale-
manni's notes for the facts ascribed to him in those notes,
and, among others, for the name Upravda, said to have
been the original name of Justinian, and other proper names
of members of the family of that emperor. Mr Bryce has,
eince the article Justinian was published, discovered in
the Barberini library at Rome what appears to be the MS
of the so-called Life of Justinian used by Alemanni, It
is in Latin, and purports to be an extract made by Ivan
* Among the l)eit general btstorlca of Wirlstlan doctrine are ihnaeof Meander.
Gi«5el*!r, Mai;rnbftcli, Baur, Ntizscli, Thomasius, namack, Htuic, Shwid. Bnd
SkeldoiL Tlierc is a rmiltitudlnoua literature relating to doctrine in particular
periods and to psnlculiir tJoctiinci.
» See Lumby'* lOitory of (he Creeds, 1873 ; Schaff's Creeds o/ Christendom,
3 ▼ot»..4lh ed., \^4 ; Winer's ConffUions o/ Chrislc*tdom ; and the SvmboUcs ol
Mohlpr, Kiilloer. Gucrickc. Ochlcr. Hofmann. Ac.
'■* The foUowiriE are among the most useful books for ttie student of Biblical
paycboIofTT : — Hfck'a Oullintt of Bibticil P»ythology (Kng Ir.) ; Detitzsch's
.>*fem of Biblical Pt^fChoiogy; Heard's Tripartite Nature c/ Man; Laidlaw'a
*.«* Boctrint ^ Mtn; and Dickson'a Baird Lecture for 18S3.
Tomco Marnavich, a Croatian ecclesiastic (1573-1639),
from a Life of Justinian by a certain Bogor^nl (Oraece
Thenphihis)^ who is alleged to have been the instructor of
Justinian, and abbot of St Alexander at Prisrend (in
Macedonia), and afterwards bishop of Sardica (now Sofia,
in Bulgaria), the original of which Lii'e, in Slavonic, is
stated in the Barberini MS to exist in the Slavonic
monastery of Basilian monks on Mount Athos No such
Slavonic MS. (so far as is known) has ever been discovered
in Athos or elsewhere ; no Slavonic MS. of tlie age of
Justinian could possibly exist , and the contents of the
Latin extract preserved at Borne are of so legendary a
character as to throw the greatest doubt on the facts cited
from Tbeophilus by Alemanni, inrluding the nanie Upravda
above referred to, and the Slavonic origin of Justinian
It seems doubtful whether this Tbeophilus Abbas, whom
' The history n( Chnslhin ethic* has been written jj- Wuttkc, Christian Ethiri.
vol t., but much bHier by Cass, Oe$e/i dfrehristl. Etht*. 2 vols . and by Zleglef.
Oesefi.'d. cftrist. Eth.. 2 \ols. Bestmann has written two volumes of a Gesfh d
chriiiK Sit'e Among wi-ll known treatises on Clniatlan ethics are llmsc *■! I>e
Wctle, Scliteiermarlui. Hlrscher. Harless. Uothe. Wattke. Saitoi luy MartenseD,
Oottintren. Lange. Rofmnnn. Frank, and Doiner Those of Wiuikc. Surtorlua
{Doctrine of Holy Love). Mailcsa. and Maitcnscn have been Irnn^lated inio
English. German'literaturc l9c^'rcmcl> nch.wliile FYench and English Ilieraturet
are miserably poor. In this department. Wardiaw'a Christian Ethifi may Im
neotioned, but merely because ii Is EngUah.
T H E — T H E
277
the Roman MS. identifiM with a certain Domnio, bishop
of Sardica in 517 (see Marcellinus Comes, Chronicon, ad
ann. 517), ever existed at all. Mr Brjce has printed this
Roman MS., with his observations thereon, in the Archivio
Storico of the R Societi Romana di Storia Patria, 1887.
THEOPHRASTUS, the successor of Aristotle in the
Peripatetic school, was a native of Eresus, in Lesbos.
The date of his birth is a matter of inference, and has
been fixed between 373 and 3G8 B.C. It is said that his
original name was Tyrtamus, and that the name Theo-
phrastus was given him by Aristotle on account of his
eloquence, but this story is quite as likely to be an after-
thought suggested by the name at a later date. After
receiving his first introduction to philosophy in Lesbos
from one Leucippus or Alcippus, he proceeded to Athens,
&nd became a member of the Platonic circle. After
Plato's deatfa he attached himself to Aristotle, and in all
probability accomjianied him to Stagira. The intimate
friendship ef Theophrastus with Callisthenes, the fellow
pupil of Alexander the Great, the l ;nticn made in his
will of an estate belonging to him iX Stagira, and the
repeated notices of the town and its museum in the
ffistory of Plants are facts which point to this conclusion.
Aristotle's affectionate confidence in his pupil and friend
is proved by his making Theophrastus guardian of his
children in his will, and designating him as his philosophic
successor at the Lyceum on his own removal to Chalcis.
Endemus of Rhodes was not without claims to this posi-
tion, but the master, according to the well-known story,
delicately indicated his preferetce by the remark that the
wines of Lesbos and Rjodes were both excellent, but the
Lesbian was the sweeter Aristotle also bequeathed to
Theophrastus his library and the originals of his own
works. Theophrastus presided over the Peripatetic school
for thirty-five years, and died in 288 B.C. Under his
guidance the school flourished greatly in point of numbers,
and at his death he bequeathed to it his garden with house
and colonnades as a permanent seat of instruction. His
popularity was also shown in the regard paid to him by
Cassander and Ptolemy and by the complete failure of a
charge of impiety brought against him He was honoured
with a public funeral in which the whole people took part
Theophrastus'a philosophical relation to Aristotle and his place
ID the developmeot of Peripatetic doctrine have been sketched
■under the head Peripatetics It remains to say a few words
.About hi* works From the lists of the ancients it appears that
the activity of Theophrastus extended over the whole lield of con-
temporary knowledge Logical, physical, biological, psychological,
ethical, political, rhetorical, and metaphysical treatises are men-
tioned, most of which probably differed little from the Aristotelian
treatment of the same themes, thoagh supplementary in details.
On the whole, Theophrastus seems to have developed by preference
the observational and scientific side of liis master, and of this
character are the books and fragments that have come down to us.
The most important of these are two large botanical treatises. On
the History of Plants ixtpi 0utuv itrroptas), in nine books (originally
ten), and On the Causes of Plants (vcpl 0trr«K alnuy)^ in six books
{originally eight) These constitute the most important contribn-
tion to botanical science till we come to modem times, and furnish
proof of the author's extensive and careful observation combined
with a considerable critical sagacity. We also possess fragments
of a History 0/ Physics, a fragmentary treatise On Stones', a work
On Sensation (»«pl cuV^trevs) in the same condition, certain meta-
physical dTopfoj. which probably once formed part of a systematic
treatise, and the well-known Ethical Characters (^eiitol xo^xwriifxi).
containing a delineation of moral types, probably an extract or
compilation by a later hand from a larger ethical work of Theo-
phrastus. Various smaller scientific fragments have been collected
in the editions of J. G Schneider (181S-21)and F. 'Wimmer (1886)
and in Csener's Analeeta Theophrastea-
THEOPffi'LACT, a well-known Biblical commentator,
was born most probably at Euripns, in EubtEa, about the
middle of the 11th century. He became a deacon at Con-
stantinople, and attained a high reputation as a scholar,
■as is shown by the fact that he became the tutor of
Constantino Porphyrogenitns, son of Michael 'VTL, for
whom he wrote his ncuSci'a fiatriXucrj. About 1078 he
went into Bulgaria as archbishop of Achris. In his letter
he complains much of the rude manners of the Bulgarians,
and he sought to be relieved of his oSice, but apparently
without success. His death took place after 1107
His commentaries on the Gospels, Acts, the Pauline epistles,
and the Minor Prophets are founded on those of Chrysostom, but
deserve the considerable place they hold in exegerical literature
for their appositeaess, sobriety, accuracy, and judiciousness. His
other extant works iiiclude sevent}*-five letters and various homilies
and orations and other minor pieces. A splendid edition of the
whole in Greek and Latin, with a preliminary dissertarion, waa
published in 1754-63 by J F B M. de Rossi (4 vols. foL, Venice).
THEOPH'i'LACT of Simocatta. See vol iv. p 613.
THEOPOMPUS of Chios, a celebrated historian and
rhetorician, was born about 378 B c. In early youth be
seems to have spent some time at Athens, along with his
father, who had been exiled on account of his Laconian
sympathies. Here he became a pupil of Isocrates, and
rapidly made great progress in rhetoric : we are told that
Isocrat«s used to say that Ephorus required the spur but
Theopompus the bit (Cic, Brutus, § 204). At first he
appears to have composed epideictic speeches, in which he
attained to such proficiency that in 352-351 he gained
the prize of oratory given by Artemisia in honour of her
husband, although Isocrates was himself among the com-
petitors. It is said to have been the advice of his teacher
that finally determined his career as an historian, — a career
for which his abundant patrimony and wide knowledge of
men and places (Fr. 26) had singularly fitted him. Through
the influence of Alexander, he was restored to Chios about
333, and figured for some time as one of the boldest and
most uncompromising leaders of the aristocratical party
in his native town. After Alexander's death he was again
expelled, and took refuge with Ptolemy in Egypt, where
he appears to have met with a somewhat cold reception.
The date of his death is unknown.
The works of Theopompus were chiefly historical,- and later
writers frequently cite them as authorities. They included an
Epitome of Herodotus s History, the Hellenics fEAATiniccf, 'ZXXnrucai
laropiai), the History of Philip (*iA»xxi«(i), and several panegyrics
and hortatory addresses, the chief of which was the Letter to
Alexander. The genuineness of the epitome of Herodotus has
been called in qneiition ; we possess only five quotations from it,
preserved by grammarians or lexicographers, afid consisting only
of single words. The Hellenics was a somewhat ..ambitious work in
12 books, extending from 411 (where Thucydides breaks off) to 394
— the date of the l»ttle of Cnidus. A few insignificant fragments
remain, but do not snffice to give us any idea of the general
character of the work. By far the most ambitious history written
by Theopompus was the ^i\i-mK6~ In this he narrated the history
of Philip's reign (360-336) in 53 books, with frequent digressions
on the names and customs of the various races and countries of
which he had occasion to speak. So numerous were these digrea-
sions that Philip III. of Macedon reduced the bnlk of the history
from 53 to 16 books by cutting out those parts which had no
connexion with the achievements of the king. It was from this
history that Diodorus and Trogns Pompeius derived much of their
materials. Several fragments, chiefly anecdotes and strictures of
various kinds upon the character of nations and individuals, ars
preserved by Athenans. Plutarch, and others. Of the Letter t»
Alexander we possess one or two fragments cited by Athensus,
auiraadvertiDg severely upon the immorality and dissipations of
Harpalus The Attack upon Plato, and the treatise On Piety,
which are sometimes referred to as separate works, were perhaps
only two of the many digressions in the histoi^y of Philip; some
writers have doubted their authenticity.
The nature of the extant fragments fuUy bears out the criticisms
of antiquity upon Theopompus. Their style is clear and pure, full
of choice and pointed expressions, but lacking in the weight and
dignity which only profound thought can supply. As we might
expect in a pupil of Isocrates, he is especially careful to avoid
hiatus. The artistic onity of his work suffered severely from the
frequent episodes with which it was interspersed ; his account of
Sicily, for example, extended over several books. Another fault
was his excessive fondjiess for romantic and incredible Storie*.
(Fr. 33, 66, 76, &c); a collection of some of these was after^arif
made and published tinder bis name, with the title of eavyt'ta
278
T H E — T H E
(Dio!*. Lacrt.. i. 115). Ho was also severely blamed in antiquity
lor his ccnsoriousness, and throughout his fragments no feature is
more strikm;; than this (Fr. 54, 65, ic). On the whole, however,
he appears to have been fairly impartial. Philip himself he censures
severely lor drunkenness ami immorality (Fr. 136, 178, 262, 208),
wliile Demosthenes receives his warm praise (Fr. 239, 263). There
can be no doubt that in the Phihjypica the world has lost a great
variety of pleasant talcs and historians much valuable information
U}ton niany dilhcult points of Greek history and life.
Sro Mutliir. Fr<i<m>mta IhntO'-Korum G'xcarum, i. 278-333, Paris. ISS-V
THEORBO. See Lcte, vol. xv. p. 71.
THIiOSOPHY, as its derivation implies, is a term used
to denote those forms of philosojihic and religious lliought
whicb claim a special insigbl into the Divine nature and
its constitutive moments or processes. Sometimes this
insiglit is claimed as the result of the operation of some
higher faculty or some supernatural revelation to the indi-
vidual , in other instances the theosophical theory is not
based u|>on any special illumination, but is simply put
forward as the deepest speculative wisdom of its author.
But in any case it is characteristic of thcosopliy that it
starts with an explication of the Divine essence, and
endeavours to deduce the phenomenal universe from the
play of forces within the Divine nature itself. It is thus
differentiated at once from all philosophic systems which
attempt to rise from an analysis of phenomena to a know-
ledge, more or less adequate, of the existence and nature
of God. In all such systems, God is the terminus ad
quern, a direct knowledge of whom is not claimed, but who
is, as it were, the hypotliesis adopted, with varying degrees
of certainty in different thinkers, for the explanation of
the facts before them. The tbeosopliist, on the other
hand, is most at his ease when moving within the circle of
the Divine essence, into which he seems to claim ahsolute
insight. This, however, would be insufficient to distin-
guish theosophy from those systems of philosophy which
are sometimes called " speculative " and " absolute," and
which also in many cases proceed deductively from the
idea of God. In a wide sense, the system of Hegel or the
system of Spinoza may be cited as examples of what is
meant. Both thinkers claim to exhibit the universe as the
evolution of the Divine nature. They must believe, there-
fore, that they have grasped the inmost principles of that
nature : so much is involved, indeed, in the construction
of an absolute system. But it is to be noted that, though
there is much talk of God in such systems, the known
universe — the world that now is — is nowhere transcended ;
God is really no more than the principle of unity immanent
in the whole. Hence, while the accusation of pantheism
is (reiiuently brought against these thinkers, the term
Iheo.sopliical is never used in their regard. A theosoph-
ical .system may also be pantheistic, in tendency if not in
intention; but the transcendent character of its Godhead
definitely distinguishes it from the speculative pliilo.sophies
which might otherwise seem to fall under the same defini-
tion. An historical survey shows, indeed, that theosophy
generally arises in connexion with religious needs, and is
the expression of religious convictions or aspirations.
Now the specifically religious consciousness is^not panthe-
istic in any naturalistic sense ; God is rather regarded as
the transcendent source of being and purity, from which
the individual in his natural state is alienated and afar off.
Theosophy accepts the testimony of religion that the
present world lies in wickedness and imperfection, and
faces the problem of speculatively accounting for this state
of things from ibe nature of the Godhead itself. Theo-
sophy IS thus in some sort a. mystical philosophy of the
existence of evil ; or at least it assumes this form in some
of its most typical representatives.
The name with which it is oftcncst coupled is mysticism
(see Mysticis.m). The latter term has properly a practical
rather than a speculative reference ; but it is currently
applied so as to include the systems of thoiight on which
practical mysticism was based. Thus, to take only one
prominent example, the profound speculations of Meister
EcKHART (7.!;.) are always treated under the head of
Mysticism, but they might with equal right appear under
the rubric Theosophy. In other words, while an emotional
and practical mysticism may exist without attempting
philosophically to explain itself, speculative mysticism is
almost another name for theosophy. There is still a
certain ditTercnce observable, however, in so far as the
speculative mystic remains primarily concerned with the
theory of the soul's relation to God, while the theosopbist
gives bis thoughts a wider scope, and frequently devotes
himself to the elaboratio.i of a fantastic philosophy ol
nature.
In the above acceptation of the term, the Neoplatonic
doctrine of emanations from the supra-essential One, the
fanciful emanation-doctrine of some of the Gnostics (the
ajons of the Valentinian system might be mentioned), and
the elaborate esoteric system of the Kabbalah, to whicb
the two former in all probability largely contributed, are
generally included under the head of theosophy. In th»
two latter instances there may be noted the allegorical
interpretation of traditional doctrines and s.acrcd writings
which is a common characteristic of theosophical writers
Still more typical. examples of theo.sophy are furnished bj
the mystical system of Meister Eckliart and the doctrine
of Jacob BoEHME ('/.«.), who is known as "the theo-
sopbist "par excellence. Eckhart's doctrine asserts behind
God a prcdicatelcss Godhead, which, though unknowable
not only to man but also to itself, is, as it were, the
essence or potentiality of all thing.s. From it pro.^eed,
and in it, as their nature, exist, the three persons of the
Trinit)', conceived as stadia of an eternal self-revealing
process. The eternal generation of the Son is equivalent
to the eternal creation of the world. But the sensuous
and phenomenal, as such, so far as they seem to imply
independence of God, are mere privation and nothingness ,
things exist only through the presence of God in them,
and the goal of creation, like its outset, is the repose of
the Godhead. The soul of man, which as a microcosmos
resumes the nature of things, strives by self-abnegation or
self-annihilation to attain this unspeakable reunion (what
Eckhart calls being buried in God). Regarding evil
simply as privation, Eckhart does not make it the pivot
of his thought, as was afterwards done by Boehme, but
his notion of the Godhead as a dark and formless essencft
is a favourite thesis of theosophy. The followers ol
Eckhart are either practical mystics, or reproduce at most
what may be called their master's speculative theology, till
we come to Boehme.
Besides mystical theology, Boehme was indebted to thf
writings of Paracelsus. This circumstance is not acci-
dental, but points to an affinity in thought. The nature-
philosophers of the Renaissance, such as Nicholas of Cusa,
Paracelsus, Cardan, and others, curiously blend scientific
ideas with speculative notions derived from scholastic
theology, from Neoplatonism, and even from the Kab-
balah. Hence it is customary to speak of their theorie*
as a mixture of theosophy and physics, or theosophy and
chemistry, as the case may be. Boehme ofl'crs us a
natural philosophy of the same sort As Boehme is th*
typical theosopbist, and as modern theosophy has nourished
itself almost in every case upon the study of his works,
his dominating conceptions supply us with the best illus-
tration of the general trend of this mode of thought. His
speculation turns, as has been said, upon the necessity oj
reconciling the existence and the might of evil with the
existence of an all embracing and all-powerful God, with-
out falling into Manicha;anism on the one hand, or, on the
T H E — T H E
•:79
other, into a naturalistic pantheism that denies the reality
»f the distinction between good and evil. He faces the
difficulty boldly, and the eternal conflict between the two
may be said to furnish him with the principle of his
philosophy. It is in this connexion that he insists on
the necessity of the Nay to the Yea, of the negative to the
positive. Eckhart's Godhead appears in Boehme as the
abyss, the eternal nothing, the essenceless quiet (" Un-
grund " and " Stille ohne Wescn " are two of Boehme's
phrases). But, if this were all, the Divine Being would
remain an abyss dark even to itself. lu God, however,
as the condition of His manifestation, lies, according to
Boehme, the " eternal nature " or the myslerium magnum,
which is as anger to love, as darkness to light, and, in
general, as the negative to the positive. This principle
(which Boehme often calls the evil in God) illuminates
both sides of the antithesis, and thus contains the possi-
bility of their real existence. By the " Qual " or torture,
as it were, of this diremption, the universe has qualitative
existence, and is knowable Even the three persons of
the Trinity, though existing idealiter beforehand, attain
reality otdy through this principle of nature in God,
which is hence spoken of as their mnlric. It forms also
the matter," as it were, out of which the world is created ;
without the dark and fiery principle, we are told, there
would be no creature. Hence God is sometimes spoken
of as the father, and the eternal nature as the mother, of
things. Creation (which is conceived as au eternal pro-
cess) begins with the creation of the angels. The subse-
quent fall of Lucifer is e.xplained as his surrender of
himself to the principle of nature, instead of dwelling in
tha heart of God. He sought to make anger predominate
over love ; and he had his >vil], becoming prince of hell,
the kingdom of God's anger, which still remains, however,
an integral part of the Divine universe. It is useless to
follow Boehme further, for his cosmogony is disfigured by
a wild Paracelsian symbolism, and his constructive efforts
in general are full of tlie uncouth straining of an untrained
writer. In spite of these defects, his speculations have
exercised a remarkable influence within the present
century, notably upon the later phases of Schelling's
philosophy, upon Fran^z von Baader, Molitor, and others.
Schelling's Philosophical Inquiries into the Nature of
Human Freedom (1S09) is almost entirely a reproduction
of Boehitie's ideas, and forms, along with Baader's writ-
ings, the best modern example of thcosophical speculation.
In his philosophy of identity Sciielling {q.v.) had already
defined the Absolute as pure indifference, or the identity
of subject and object (of the ideal and the real), but
without advancing further into theogony. He now pro-
ceeded fo distinguish three moments in God, the first of
whii.h is the pure indifference which, in a sense, precedes
all. existence — the primal basis or abyss, as he calls it, in
agreement with Boehme. But, as there is nothing before
or besides God, God niu>t have the ground or cause of His
existence in Himself This is the second moment, called
nature in God, distinguishable from God, but inseparable
from Him. It is that in God which is not God Himself ;
it is the yearning of the eternal One to give birth to
itaelf. This yearning is a dumb unintelligent longing,
which moves like a heaving sea in obedience to some dark
and indefinite law, and is powerless to fashion anything in
permanence. But in correspondence to the first stirring
of the Divine existence there awakes in God Himself an
inner reflexive perception, by means of which — since no
object is possible for it but God — God beholds Himself in
His own image. In this, God is for tha first time as it
were realized, although as yet only within Himself This
petceptioQ combines as understanding vrfth the primal
varDing, which becomes thereby free creative will, and
works formatively in the originally lawless nature or ground)
In this wise is created the world as wo know it In every
natural existence there arc, therefore, two princii'les to b«(
distinguished — first, the dark principle, through which this
is separated from God, and exists, as it were, in the mere
ground ; and, secondly, the Divine principle of understand-
ing. The first is the particular Avill of the creature, the
second is the universal will. In irrational creatures tha
particular will or greed of the individual is controlled by
external forces, and thus used as an instrument of- the
universal. But in man the two principles are consciously
present together, not, however, in inseparable union, as
they are in God, but with the possibility of separation.
This possibility of separation is the possibility of good and
evil. In Boehme's spirit, Schelling defended his idea of
God as the only way of vindicating for God the conscious,
ness which naturalism denies, and which ordinary theism
emptily asserts. This thcosophical transformatu n of
Schelling's doctrine was largely due to tbo intluence of his
contemporary Baadke (y.t'.). Baader distinguishes, in a
manner which may be paralleled from Boehme, between
an immanent or esoteric process of .self-production in God,
through which He issues from His unrovcaled state, and the
cmanent, exoteric, or real process, in which God overcomes
and takes up into Himself the eternal "nature" or the
principle of selfhood, and appears as a Trinity of persons.
The creation of the world is still further to be distinguished
from these two processes as an act of freedom or will ; it
cannot, therefore, be speculatively constructed, but must
be historically accepted. Baader, who combined his theo-
sophy with the doctrines of Roman Catholicism, has bad
many followers. Among thinkers on the same lines, but
more or less independent, Molitor is perhaps the most
important. Swedeneorg {q.v.) is usually reckoned among
the theosophists, and some paija of his theory justify this
inclusion ; but his syafem as a whole has little in common
with those speculative constructions of the Divine nature
which form the essence of. iheosophy, as strictly under-
stood, (a. se.)
TIIERA, or, as it is now called, Santorin. is a volcanic
island in the /Egean Sea, the southernmost of the group
of islands, called Sporadee, which intervene between the
Cyclades and Crete. From the last-named island it is
separated by a space of 60 miles of sea, but the lofty
Cretan ranges
of Dicte and
Ida are clearly
visible from it
in fine weather.
In shape San-
torin forms a
crescent, and
encloses a bay
on the north,
east, and south,
while on the
western side
lies the smaller
island of Ther-
asia. The en-
circling wall
thus formed,
which is ellip-
tical in shape
and 18 miles
round in its
inner rim, is
broken in two places.
Thcra and neighbouring Islands.
-towards the north-west by a strait
a mile in breadth, where the water is not less than 1100
feet deep, and towards the south-west by an aperture about
280
T H E — T H £
3 miles wiifc, wbenj the vrater is shallow, and an island
called AsproijjM or \Miite tland. lying lu tUe middle, serves
IS u stepping-stone between the iw^' promoijtories. Tbe
clids "-isi: perpendicularly from the waters of the bay. in
soiuf |.laces to the height of 10^0 feet , but towards the
oiieii Eca, both in Santorin a^d Therasia, the ground slopes
pra-JuaJly away, and ha-i been conrerteH into broad level
terraces, everywhere covered with tufaceous agglomerate,
which, though ertraordinanly bare and ashen to the eye,
is tbe soil which produces the famous Santorii: wine.
TVjwards the soiUh east rises the limestone peak of Mount
Elias, the highest point of the island (1587 feet), and the
unly part that ••<isted before the volcano was formed In
the middle of tUi. basin lie three sniaii islands, winch are the
centre of volcanic aLlHity, and are called Pakca. Mikra,
and ^"i". Kaun.eno or the Old, tbt- Little, aiid the New
Burnt Lsi.nd , the highest of these. Nea Kan-jitne. is 351
feet above the .•■en level Owing to the d»j'th of the water
there is no i ichcrage, amd vessels have to be moored to
the shi/re, except at one point in the neighbourhood of
the modern town, where there i£ a slight rim of shallow
bottom. The cliffs both of Sautonn and Therasia present
an extraordinary appearance, being marked ir". horizontal
bands by black lava, white porous tufa, and other volcanic
strata, some parts of which are coloured dark red The
modern town of Thera (or Fhera, as it is more commonly
pronounced) is built at the edge of these, overlooking the
middle of the bay at a height of 900 feet above the water,
and the houses of which it is composed are themselves
peculiar, for their foundations, and in some cases their
sides also, are excavated in the tufa, so that occasionally
they are hardly traceable except by their chimneys , -and,
owing to the absence of timber.— for. with the exception
of the fig, the cactus, and the palm, there are hardly any
trees in the istaod,^ — they are roofed with barrel vaults of
stone and cement Both wood and water have occasion-
ally to be imported from the neighbouring islands, for
there are no wells, and the raiu water, which is coUeeted
in numerous cisterns, does not always suffice The largest
of the other towns or villages i3 that of Apanomeria, near
the northern entrance, which is crowded together in a
white mass, while the rocks below it are the reddest that
are seen in the island.
SantoriD has from the earliest times been a centre of volcanic
agency, and is closely connected with the earthquake movements
to u-hicb the countries in the neighbourhood of the Mgeao are
eubjcct, and which have been the chief cause of the deslruction of
tbe pubMc buildings of ancient Greece It is bardiy accurate to
speak of the basin which forms the harbour as a crater, for most
geologists, including Lyell. supjiort tbe view- that the whole of tbia
space was once covered by a single volcanic coue the incline of
which IS repre-oenled by the outward plnj^e of Saptx)nri and Therasia,
whiie the position of tbe enter was that now occupied by the
Kanmene Islands , and that, at some remote period, o«nng tr the
•inking of the strata beneath, the central portion of this extend-
ing over an area which a Kren'-h writer compares with that included
within the fortifications of Pans at the time of the siege, fell in,
by \rhicb convulsion the basin was formed The principal erup-
tions that have taken place within historic limes are that of 196
B c when, as we learn from Sli-abo (i. 3. § 16, p 5"), flames rose
froni the water halfway beiweeu Thera ?nd Therasia fo: four days,
tnd the island of Paiiea Kaumcne was ejected, that of 726 A. p.,
during the reign of the cniperor Leo the Isaurian, when an addition
was made to that island, and tbe puroice-stone that was cast forth
was carried by the waves to the shores of Asia Minor and Macedonia ,
that of 157-3. when Mikra Kaumi-'ne appeared; that of 16.S0. a
fearful eruption, which destroyed many lives by its noxious exhala-
tions, and ended in the upheaval of an island in the sea to the
north-east of Santorin, which afterwards subsided and became a
permanent rcf below the sea-level, that of 170", when Nea
Kaumcne arose; tn-J, within the recollection of tbe present genera-
tion, that of 1866
Santorin and Therasia have been recently the scene of a remajk-
able archajological discover) In the southern parts of both those
islands prehistoric dwellings bnvp been found at some height above
tbe sea. and there is uu reasouabW cause to doubt that these f*ate
from a period antecedent to tbe falling in of the crater and the
formation of the bay This is proved by their positioD undemcatii
the layer of tufa which covers the inlands, and, moreover, by these
layers of tula Iwing brckco off piocipitously, in the same way as the
lava-rocks, a fact which can only be explained by the eunposition
that they all fell in together. The foundations of the dwellings
rested, not on the tufa, but on the lava below it , and here and
there between (he atones branches of wild olive were found, accorxl
ing to a mode of building that still prevails in the island, in ordci
to resist the shocks of earthquakes. Part of tbe skeleton of a man
was discovered, ij-t Urj^e vases, soiue containing gram, others
stone instruments very carefully worked Some of these vases
were of 6ne yellowish earth, ornamented witli brown bands, some,
of smaller size, were more elaborately decorated, sometimes wiih
lines representing foliage, and in a few instances with figures of
animals; some were of red earth, without ornament, while others,
of pale red earth, were of very large dimensions No inipteRicots
of metal were found Naturally it baa been the suhjt-ci uf much
discu.-^sion what was the origin of this very pnmrtive art The lato
M Dumont, who was the leading authority on the subject (Let
Ceram ujites dr la Grice Pra^rt, pp 74, 7.1. 2iiy). though speaking
w-iih great caution on account of the iDsuthciency of the evidence,
iii'-lined to the belief that it was partly denvcd from Pli*£nit-iaD
influence, but at ilie same time that there were evidciii traces o(
native originality Comparing it in respect 6f date with the other
prehistoric developments of ait m ibe neighbourhood of ihe ^gcan,
be would place it later than that of HissarTik, but earlier than
those of laly:>us in Rhodes, and of Mycec*
In Greek legend the island of There was connected with the
story of the Argonauts, for itnvas represented as spuing from 0
clod of earth which was presented to those heroes by Triton
(Apollon., Arganaiil , iv lf.il sj , 1731 .«) ) According le
Herotlotus (iv 147), a Phrpiiiciau colony was established thcie '■)
Oadmus— a story which pioves nt least the belief that there was
an early settlement of thai race in the island It has even been
conjectured (see vol xvii p 8i/6) that the alphabet wa." introduced
into Greece, not, as w.-'s cuiiinionly believed, through Thebes, but
by w-^y of fhera Siil'*''q.iei:t y. ve are told, a colony fiom Sparta,
including some of tli'' .MiifjT, was led thither by Tbeias, who gave
the island his own name, in phice of that of Calliste which it had
borne before But the one e'eut which gave impottance to Thera
in ancient history xvas the pl,-uling of its famous colony of Cyrene
on the north coast of Alrica by Baltus in 631 BC, in accordance
with a command of the Delphic oi-arle The au(ienl capital, which
bore the same name as the isl.-.nd. has been identified by an inscrip-
tion as occupying a site on the eastern coast called Mesa.Voono,
between Mount Elias and the sea The other remains of the
classical period consist of walls and toinb.^, together v-'th several
keroo or small shrines, one of which, now dedicated to St Nicholas
Marmorites. who is so called in honour of his marble structure, is
an almost unii)ue specimen of a perject Greek temple, for even the
roof remains int.-icL After the fourth crusade, when tha-Byzantine
empu'e was partitioned among the Latins, this island formed a
portion of the duchy of the Archipelago , and it was at this period
that it received the name of Santorin, i«, St Irene, after the
patron saint of the place, to whom Touiiiefort mentions that in
his time nine or ten chapels were dedicated At the present day
Santorin is in a prosperous condition, for. in addition to the wine
trade, which is highly remunerative, there is a largo export of
poiM/ana, which has been much used for the works at Fort Said io
connexion with the Suez Canal, since, when mixed with lime, it
forms a very hard cement which resists the action of the sea.
General (nformation with regard uj the Tliera grroup wi:: be fo-jnd Io Rosi't
Imelrmm. and In Lieut. Le.vcester"s paper In vol nx of the Journal of thf R.
OioOT Sof ; A very complele account ol the sclrntiflc phenomena le given is
Fouqu^s Sanlcrtn el tes £>upttont On the prehistoric enllqullica. LoDOrmant,
Revui Archeifioijtifvf. new sei . vol. xlv , and Fouqn^, Arcfiivc* des J/ufiont, 3d
set , vol IV . and - Une Pomp**! Anl^hisUjrique." in Ihe /inu^ da Dnts i/ondei^
vol 'ux.Tiii .'should be cons-ilieo Of the lite of tlie modern lohabitajits a graphic
account i." piven in Mr llenfa Qjcladei (H. F T)
THER.'^MENES, an Athenian who played a prominent
part in the history of Athens towards the close ol tbe
Peloponnesian War and in the revolution whioh followed it
He was one of tbe conspirators who, in 411 B.C., abolished
the democracy at Athens, and substituted the oligarchy of
the Four Hundred Tbe adhesion of the army in Samos
to the democracy, however, created dissensions among the
oligarchs at Athens Theramenes supported the more
moderate section, and was the chief means of destroying
a fortress which the extreme .section had been building
at the mouth of the harbour, ostensibly as a protection
against any violent movement on the part of the democrats
at Samos, but really, according to Theramenes, to admit
the enemy He further accused Antiphon and Archeptole
mus. members -if the pxtreniB oliL'archical part), who
T H E — T H E
281
according to Lysias, hpd-besn his own intimate friends,
end secured their capital "unislimftnt. In 410 Theramenes
commanded one of the three squadrons of the Athenian
fleet in the victory over the Spartanfrat Cyzicus. In 409
he took part in the siege of Cbalcedon and the capture of
Byzantium. At the battle of Arginuss in 406 he was
one of the officers deputed by the generals in command to
pick up the crews of the disabled ships , but the re,-cue
was not effected, on account, it seems, of the storm
Nevertheless, on his return to Athens, Theramenes took
a leading part in accusingand procuring the condemnation
to death of the gec'^rals for neglecting to rescue the men.
When Athens was besieged by the Peloponnesians, Thera-
menes conducted the negotiations for surrendering the city,
traitorously prolonging them till starvation compelled the
Athenians to accept the rigorous terms imposed by Sparta.
After the sur-ender he formed one of the notorious Thirty
who, backed by a Spartan garrison, misgoverned Athens.
But by opposing their excesses he incurred their suspicions,
ajid, beiog denounced by Critias, the most violent of the
Thirty, he was, in defiance of the forms of law, put to
death (404). He submitted to his fate with a fortitude
which won the admiration of his contemporaries and of
posterity, and which might well have graced the close of a
better life. His ability and eloquence are recognized by
Thucydides, and Aristotle is said by Plutarch (A'u., 2) to
have reckoned him one of the three best patriots of Athens.
This latter judgment is not borne out by the facts as wt
know them. Rather Theramenes appears as a selfish and
faithless trimmer, who deserved his nickname Cothurnus
(a boot which fitted either foot).
The chief aathorities for his life are Thucydides, Tiii. ; Xenopbon,
ffelUnica, i. .iL; Lysias, Contra Erai.\ Diodorus, liii., xiv
THERAPEUT^. See Monachism, vol. svi. p 69S.
THERESA, St (1515-1582). Teresa de Cepeda,
perhaps the favourite saint of modern Spain, was born at
Avila, in Old Castile, on the 2Sth of March 1515,— at the
very time, adds her biographer, " when Luther was secret-
ing the poison which he vomited out two years later."
She was one of a large family — eight sons and three
daughters Her father was a Spanish gentleman of good
family, whose time was chiefly occupied with devotional
reading and works of charity. Teresa's mother, his second
wife, was a beautiful woman, confined generally to a sofa
by delicate health. From her her daughter appears to
have inherited both delicacy of health and a remarkably
susceptible imagination She delighted in the books of
knight-errantry which abounded in the library, and her
children sat up at night in their nursery over the same
romances But Teresa's imagination was judiciously
diverted by her father to another form of heroism. She
was soon as deep in the histories of the martyrs as she
had been in the tales of chivalry. She learned from these
histories that martyrs passed straight to heaven without
any detention in purgatory ; and, being eminently practical
as well as imaginative, she resolved to secure that blessing
for herself \V'Tien she was seven years old, she started
off with her little brother to go and seek martyrdom in the
country of the Moors. They had reached the bridge on
the stream which runs through the town, when an uncle
met them and brought them back. Balked thus of their
desire, they played at hermits, making themselves cells
in the garden, and giving away their pocket-money to
beggars. Teresa lost her mother early, and as she grew
up the vanities and flirtations of a pretty girl took the
place of these pious imaginations Her father deemed it
best to send her to be educated in an Augustinian convent
in the town, but without any thoughts of her adopting a
religious life. She would probably have married like her
sisters, bad it Dot been for an attack of illness. She was
a:5— ia»
sent away for changa of air on a visit to one of her sisters,
and on her way home s|ient some days with a saintly
uncle, who was on the eve of entering a monastery, and
who strongly urged her to withdraw from the world. Her
father was greatly opposed to the step, out Teresa was
not to be turned from what she conceived to be her duty.
She was only eighteen when she left home one morning,
and applied for admission at the Carmelite convent of the
Incarnation. She was disappointed at first at the slack-
ness of discipline The sisters mixed freely in the society
of Avila, receiving visits and returning them, and often
absenting themselves from the cloister for months at a
time. For the first three years she was constantly subject
to attacks of sickness, fainting fits, and paroxysms of pain,
but she prayed to St Joseiih, after which she became
comparatively better, though her nervous system was
completely shaken But she appears afterwards to have
accommodated herself with tolerable success to the world-
liness of her environment, though not without intervals of
religious misgiving. " For twenty years," she says, " I
was tossed about on a stormy sea in a wretched condition,
for, if I had small content in thi world, in God I had no
pleasure At prayer time 1 watched for the clock to strike
the end of the hour. To go to the oratory was a vexation
to me, and prayer itself a constant effort " At one time
she abandoned prayer altogether, as she found it impos-
sible to fix her thoughts, and she abbo.'red the hypocrisy
of mechanically repeating a form of words. It was in the
year 1554 (her noviciate dated from 1534), when she was
thus nearly forty, that the event known as her conversion
took place, and the second part of her life began The
death of her father roused her to serious reflexion, and
one day, as she entered the oratory, she was struck by
the image of the wounded Christ, placed there for an
approaching festival. The blood was depicted as stream-
ing over the face from the thorns and running from the
side and the hands and feet The spectacle of suti'ering
pierced Teresa's breast ; she fell in tears at the feet of
the figure, and felt every worldly emotion die within her
The shock threw her into a trance, and these trances,
accompanied by visions, recurred frequently in the subse
quent part of her life. They have since been adduced as
Divine attestations of her saintship, but the sisterhood in
the convent set them down to possession by a devil , her
new departure was due in their eyes to no worthier motive
than the desire to be peculiar and to be reputed better
than other people. Teresa herself was very humble, and
thought their explanation might be tiue ; she took her
fcase to her confessor and to the provincial general of the
Jesuits. The latter put her under a course of discipline ;
she was to flog herself with a whip of notlcs, to wear a
haircloth plaited with broken wires that would tear the
skin, and to meditate daily on the details of Christ's
passion One day, while thus occupied, her trance cama
upon her, and she heard a voice say, "Thou shalt have no
more converse with men, but with angels " After this
the trance or fit always rt turned when she was at prayers,
and she felt that Christ was close to her. Presently she
was able to see him, " exactly as he was painted rising from
the sepulchre " Her confessor directed her to exorcise the
figure, and she obeyed with pain, but, it is needle.-'S to say,
in vain The visions grew more and more vivid The
cross of her rosary was snatched from her hand one d.iy,
and when returned it was made of jewels more biilliant
than diamonds, visible, however, to her alone. Sli. had
often an acute pain in her side, and fancied tlint an angel
came to her with a lance tipped with fire, which he struck
into her heart The 27th of August is kept sacred in
Spain to this mystery, which has also formed a f; >ourite
subject of Spanish painters . it forms the frontispiece of
XXIIL - 30
282
T H E — T H E
the biography which is put into the hands of Catholics.
She bad also visions of another description ■ she was
shovTO hell with its horrors, and the devil would sit upon
her breviary, belabour her with blows, and fill her cell
with imps. For several years these ezperieoces continued,
and the verdict as to their source still remained far from
unanimous. Meanwhile, on the broad stage of the world,
the Reformation continued to spread and establish itself ;
and this great falling away became the subject oi much
searching of hearts to pious Catholics. Teresa reflected
like the rest, and her experience led her to find the real
cause of the catastrophe id the relaxation of discipline
within the religious orders If the ancient rules could
be restored, it appeared td her that the evil might be
stemmed ; and she formed the project of founding a house
in which all the original rules of the Carmelite order
before its rela^tion would be observed. She met, not
unnaturally, with great opposition from the authorities of
the order, and in particular from the prioress and sisters of
the Incarnation, who looked upon the step as a reflexion
upon themselves. Nevertheless, she persevered with her
scheme, being encouraged to appeal to the pope by cer-
tain priests who saw .the benefit which would accrue to
the church from her zeal A private house in Avila was
secretly got ready to serve as a small convent, and, when
the bull arrived from Rome, Teresa went out on leave from
the IncarL..tion and installed four poor women in the new
house dedicated to her patron St Joseph. It was on the
24th of August 1562 that mass was said in the little
chapel and the new order constituted. It was to be an
order of Descalzos or Barefoots, in opposition to the
relaxed parent body, the Calzados. The sisters were not
to be literally shoeleiss, but to wear sandals of rope , they
were to sleep on ."itraw, to eat no meat, to be strictly con-
fined to the cloister, and to live on alms without regular
endowment After lodging her four sisters, Teresa re-
turned to the Incarnation, as in duty bound , but, when
the secret was discovered, Carmelites and townspeople
were alike furious. Violence, however, was prevented,
and the matter was referred to the council of state at
Madrid PbiUp II referred it again to the pope, and
after six months a fresh bull arrived from Pius V The
provincial of her order now gave her leave to remove and
take charge ot her sisterhood The number of thirteen, to
which on grounds of discipline she had limited the founda.
tion, wa.s soon filled up, and Teresa spent here the five
happiest years of her life Hec visions continued, and. by
command of her ecclesiastical su()eriors. she wrote her
autobiography containing a full account of these experi
ences She herself, however, profoundly as sbe believed
m their reality, saw the danger which attaches to such
expenences. and was far from basing any claim to holiness
upon them One of her visions about this time is
interesting as illustrating what is called her mysticism
She fancied tbat sbe was a mirror without frame and
without dimensions, with Christ shining in the centre of
it, and the mirror itself, she knew not how, was in Christ
Teresa was now encouraged to carry her work still further,
for the church was girding itself to the work of the
Counter-Reformation. The general of the oMer visited
her at Avila, and gave her powers to found other hou.ses
of Descalzos, for men as well as women The last fifteen
years of her life were spent mainly in journeys with this
end and in the continually growing labour of organization
She travelled in a rude cart in all weathers, and the story
of her hardships and misadventures impresses us with the
nrength of will that animated her old and shaken frc^me.
Convents were founded at Medina, Mnlaga. Valladolid,
Toledo, Segovia, and Salamanca, and tvo at Alva under
Uie patronage of the famous duke Then she bad three
years of rest, as prioress of her old convent of the Incar-
nation She next went to Seville to found a bouse, thus
overstepping for the first lime the boundaries of '.he
Castiles. to which her authorization limited her The
latent hostility of the old order was aroused the general
ordered the immediate suppression of the house at Seville,
and procured a bull from Gregory XIII. prohibiting the
further extension of the reformed houses (1675) But the
movement against her came from ItAly, and was resented
by Philip and the Spanish authorities as undue interfer-
ence . and, after a fierce struggle, during which Teresa waa
two years under arrest at Toledo, the Carmelites were
divided into two bodies in 1580, and the Descalzos
obtained the right to elect their own provinciaT-generala
(see Carmelites) The few remaining years of Teresa's
life were spent in the old way, organizing the order she
had founded, and travelling about to open new convents
Sixteen convents and fourteen monasteries were founded
by her efforts , she wrote a history of her foundations,
which forms a supplement to her autobiography At
Burgos, during the whole of a wet autumn and winter,
she endured terrible privations. Her own nuns, loo, were
not always as single-minded and obedient as the ideal
sisterhood of her hopes had been Those at St Joseph id
Avila mutinied for a meat diet , the prioress at Medina
answered her impertinently Her last journey of inspec
tion was cut short at Alva, where she died on the 29lh of
September 1582, and was laid in her first, but not her
last, resting place, A violet odour and a fragrant oil were
said to distil from her tomb , and when it was opeotd
nine months afterwards the flesh was founti uncorrupted.
A hand cut off by a fervent brother was tuund to work
miracles, and the order became convinced that their
founder had been a saint. It was resolved in 15S;> to
remove her remains to Avila, where she was tx>rn. the
sisters at Alva being consoled by permission to retain the
mutilated arm But the family of the duke of Alva pro-
cured an order from the pope enpining that the boi-^
should be restored to Alva, and she was accordingly la d
there once more m a splendid tomb. But even then she
was not allowed to rest she was again disentombed, to be
laid m a more magnificent coffin, and the greed of reveren-
tial relic-seekers made unseemly havoc of her bones
Teresa waa canonized by Gregory XV. id 1622. The bonoDr
was doubtless largely due to her ascetic.sm and mystic visions
She called herself Teresa "le Jesus, to si^ify the closeness of her
relation tn the hearenly Bridegroom, who directed all her actions
Though she deprecated excess of ascetic seventy m others, sh«
scourged herself habitually, and wore a peculiarly paiiilul haircloth
But her life shows her to have been, besides, a woman of strong
practicality and good sense, full of satnial ehresdcess. and with
unusual powers of organization "You deceived rae in saying sb6
was a woman," wnles one of her confeseors, "she la a bearded
man " She was brave in the face of difficulties an'l d;ingcrs, oura
in her motives, and her utterances, some of which liavo ueeD
quoted, have the triir eihtcal ring about them. Her MSS war*
collected by Philip 11 and placed in a rich case in the Esconal,
the key of which the king carried about with liim Besides her
autobiography and the history of her foundations, her works (al!
written m Spanisbi contain a great number of leltei-s arid vanout
trsjrtrsP" of inystical religion, the chief of whicli are Tlif Way of
Perfectim and T>it CosUe of Ihe Sovl Both describe the progresa
of the soul towiinis perfect snion with God
Her wnrks, cult*u ()y two Dominicans, were firsl piiMishril In I5R7. nnd hat*
fllnre appeared in vailmis etllhona They were 8uon Rtierwaitls trunslnteO Into
Italian, French, nnil Laiin . an EncH^li translation of Uin7,r/e nn.l works (ciccpt
llie leltcrit by A WoodhcaO appearcfl In ICfiU More ityently various tniiisl*.
tlons of trie /.ifit rin»u apiieured, — by John Ualtnn (IS.M), who nlNO imiislntcil th*
Wityt}f Perftrttnn. nn-l ov Daviil Lewis (1870). (oUowctl In IflTl hy the Foumlm-
lion* frriin tho «;imo ll.inil lll.tirrtipniet sppenreil aoon lifter her llcatli by th«
Jesuit ltilH;ri,. win. iiuil been (ler tonlessoi (IC02), iinil by Dieco ilo Vepcz, ciin.
fe.s.s.,r t*. riiilip II (l.'.'j'Ji I Iff ml. are nl.oclvon tn nil>n<tciicyi^'" Flo* Ravftin-ttm
anil In Ali.j,n Knllur's Liertnf {*r Snirui A si-panifc btoffraphy, wllti prvlan
by AreObshnp Manninit, ap|iear,.,l in ISSr., and an iiilen-stinR and syiPiMitlictk
aceuiint ot licr lllu i.s mvcn id the Quarlerlir fUotew toi October 1S33, (A. Sft.)
THERESIOPEL, or Tiikresienstadt. Sec Szabadra.
THERMAL SI'RINOS, See Gbolooy, vol x. pp. 223„
370. and Mwixal Watkrs.
THERMODYNAMICS
283
THERMODYNAMICS. In a strict interpretation, this
tranch of science, sometimes called the Dynamical Theory
of Heat, deals with tb« relations between heat and work,
though it is often extended so as to include all trans-
formations of energy. Either term is an infelicitous one,
for there is no direct reference to force in the majority of
qu^tions dealt with in the subject. Even the title of
Carijot'* work, presently to be described, is much better
ohosen than is the more modern designation. On the
other hand, such .a Oerman phrase as die beicegtnde Kraft
■ler Wdrme is in all respects intolerable.
It has been shown in a previous article (Enkbgy) ,that
Newton's enunciation of the conservation of energy as a
general principle of nature was defective in respect of the
connexion between work and heat, and that, about the
beginning of the present century, this lacuna was com-
ple'ely filled up by. the researches of Rumford and Davy
(see also Heat). In the same article Joule's experimental
demonstration of the principle, and his determinatioa of
the work-equivalent of heat by various totally independent
procssses, have been discussed.
But the conservation of energy, alone, gives ns an
altogether inadequate basis for reasoning on the work of
a heat-engine. It enables us to calculate how much work
is equivalent to an assigned amount of heat,' and vice versa,
provided the transformation can be effected ; but it tells
us nothing with respect to the percentage of either which
can, under given circumstances, be converted into the
other. For this purpose we require a special case of the
law of transformation of energy. This was first given in
Garnet's extraordinary work entitled Refiexions svr la
Puiisani-e Motrice du Fen, Paris, 1824.^
' The author, N-L-SaJi Carnot (1796-1832), was Iho second sou
of Napoleon's celebraleJ minister of war, himself a mathematician of
real note even among the wonderful galaxy of which France could then
boast. The delicate constitution of Sadi was attributed to the agitated
circumstances of the time of his birth, which led to the prosciiption
and tempoi^ry eiile of his parents. Ue was admitted in 1812 to the
ficole PoI}t''chnique, where be was a fellow-student of the famous
Chasles. Late in 1814 be left the school with a commission in the
Engineers, and with prospects of rapid advancement in his profession.
But Waterloo and the Restoration led to a second and final proscrip-
tion of his father ; and, though Sadi was not himself cashiered, he w.is
purposely told off for the mere-^t drudgeries of bis service; il fut
"envoye successivement dans plusieurs places fortes pour y faire son
rattier d'ingeiiicur, compter des briques, reparer des pans de murailles,
«t lever des plans destines a s'eufouir dans les cartons," as vve learn
from a biograpliical notice written by his younger brother. Disgusted
with au employment which afforded him neither leisure for original
work nor opportunities for acquiring scientific instruction, he presented
himself in 1819 at the examination for admission to the staff-corps
(6tat-m.ajor), and obtained a lieutenancy. He now devoted himself
with astonishing ardour to mathematics, chemistry, natural history,
technology, and even political economy. He was an enthusiast in
music and other fine arts ; and he habitually practised as an annise-
ment, while deeply studying ia theory, all sorts of athletic sports,
including swimming and fencing. He became captain in the engineers
in 1827, but left the service altogether in the following year. His
naturally feeble constitution, farther weakened by excessive devotion
to study, broke down finally in 1832. A relapse of scarlatina led to
brain fever, from which he had but partially recovered when lie fell a
victim to cholera. Thus dieil, at the early ,ige of thirty-six, one of
the most prolound and original thinkers who have ever devoted them-
selves to science. The work named above was the only one he
publislii-d. Though of itself sufficient to put him in the very fore-
most rank, it contains only a fragment of Sadi Carnot's discoveries,
fortunately his manuscripts have been preserved, and extracts from
them h.ive liceu appended by bis brother to a i-c)uint (1878) of the
Puissance Motrice These show th'.t lic had not only realized for
bim^c-tl till- true nature of heat, but had noted down lor trial many
if the beat itio'lerri niethodb of finding its mechanical equivalent, such
is th-jse ol Joule with the perforated piston and with the internal
.'riction of water and nierciiry. W. Thomson's experiment with a
curr'Tiit of gas forced through a porous plug is also given. One sentence
of extract, however, must mlhce. and it is astonishing to think th.at
it was written over sixty years ago. " On pent ilonc poser er. these
gener.ale que la puissance niotiice est en quantite invariable ilans la
nalutc, qu'elle n'cst jain.iis, a iiroprenient parler. ni produite, ni
d^truitc. A la vcrite. eile change de forme, C'est-a-dire qu'elle
The chief novelties of Carnot's work are the introduction
of the idea of a cycle of operations, and the invaluable
discovery of the special property of a reversible cycle.
It is' not too much to say that, without these wonderful
novelties, thermodynamics as a theoretical science could
not have been developed.
Carnot's work seems to have excited no attention at
the tfme of its publication. Ten years later (1834)
Clapeyron gave some of its main features in an ana-
lytical form, and he also employed Watt's diagram for the
exhibition of others. Even this, however, failed to call
attention properly to the extremely novel processes of
Carnot, and it was reserved for Sir W. Thomson (in 1848,
and more at length in 1849) to point ou^ to scientific men
their full value. His papers on Carnot's treatise, follow-
ing closely after the splendid experimental researches of
Colding and Joule, secured for the dynamical theory of
heat its position as a recognized'branch of science. Jamea
Thomson, by Carnot's methods, predicted in 1849 the low-
ering of th^ freezing point of water by pressure, which was
verified experimentally in the same year by his brother.
Von Helmholtz had published, two years before, a strikingly
original and comprehensive pamphlet on the conservation
of energy. The start once given, Rankine,' Clausius, and
W. Thomson rapidly developed, though from very different
standpoints, the theory of thermodynamics. The methods
adopted by Thomson differed in one special characteristic
■from those of his concurrents, — they were based entirely
on the experimental facts and on necessary principles;
and, when hypothesis waa absolutely required, attention
was carefully directed to its nature and to the reaaona
which appeared to justify it.
Three specially important additions to pure science
followed almost directly from' Carnot's methods : — (1) the
absolute definition of temperature ; (2) the thermodynamic
function or entropy ; (3) the dissipation of energy. The
first (in 1848) and the third (in 1852) were given b^
W. Thomson. The second, though introduced by Kankine,
was also specially treated by Clausiuf
In giving a brief sketch of the science, we will not
adhere strictly to any of the separate paths pursued by
its founders, but will employ for each step what appears
to be most easily intelligible to the general reader. And
we will arrange the steps in such an order that the neces-
sity for each may be distinctly visible before we take it.
1. General Notions. — The conversion of mechanical
work into heat can always be effected completely. In
fact, friction, without which even statical results would
be all but unrealizable in practical life, interferes to a
marked extent in almost every problem of kinetics, — and
work done against friction is (as a rule) converted into
heat. But the conversion of heat into work can be effected
only in part, usually in very small part. Thus heat is
regarded as the lower or less useful of these forms of
energy, and when part of it is elevated in rank by con-
version into work the remainder sinks still lower iu the
scale of usefulness than .before.
There are but two processes fcnown to us lor the con-
version of heat into work, viz., that ado|)tc(l in heat-
engines, where the changes of volume of the "working
substance " are employed, and that of clectroningnetic
engines driven by tliernioelcctric currents (.scu Elkcthicity,
vol. viii. p.. 9G). To the latter we will not uguin ri:fer.
And for simplicity we will suppose the working .suljslanco
to bo fluid, so as to have the same pressure tlirougliout,
or, if it be solid, to be isotropic, and to be subject only to
hydrostatic pressure, or to tension uniform in all direction*
and the same from point to point.
produit tantot uii [;enro do mouvement, tantot liu autr« ; piais ell*
n'est jamais aneantic".
284
THERMODYNAMICS
Fig. 1.
The state of unit mass of such a substance is known by
experiment to be fully determined when its volume and
pressure are given, even if (as in the case of ice in preseuce
of water, or of water in presence of steam) part of it is in
one molecular state and part in another. But, the state
being determinate, so must bo the temperature, and also
the amount of energy which the substance contains. This
consideration is insisted on by Carnot as the foundation of
his investigations. In other words, before we are entitled
to reason upon the relation between the heat supplied to
and the work done by the worTcing substance, Carnot
eaya we must bring tliat substance, by means of a cyck
of operations, back to precisely its primitive state as
regards volume, temperature, and molecular condition.
2. Wall's Diagram. — Watt's indicator-diagram (see
feiEAM-ENGiNE) enables us to represent our operations
graphically. For if OM (fig. 1)
represent the volume, at any ^
instant, of the unit mass of
working substance, MP its pres-
sure, the point P is determinate
»nd corresponds to a definite
temperature, definite energy,
&c. If the points of any curve,
08 PP', in the diagram repre-
sent the successive states through which the working sub-
Btance is made to pass, the work done is (/oc. di..) repre-
sented by the area MPP'M'. Hence, a cycle of operations,
whose essential nature is to bring the working substance
back to its primitive state, is necessarily represented by a
dosed boundary, such as PP'Q'Q, in the diagram. The
area enclosed is the excess of the work done by the work-
ing sn'bstance over that spent on it during the cycle.
[This is positive if the closed path be described clockwise,
is indicated by the arrow-heads.]
3. Camo(s Cycle. — For a reason which will immediately
appear, Carnot limited the operations in his cycle to two
kind.'), employed alternately during the expansion and
d'jring the compression of the working substance. The
6rst of these involves change of volume at constant
temperature ; the second, change of volume without direct
loss or gain of heat. [In his hypothetical engine the
substance was supposed to be in contact with a body kept
at constant temperature, or to be entirely surrounded by
non-conducting materials.] The corresponding curves in
the diagram are called isothermals, or lines of equal
temperature, and adiabatic lines respectively. We may
consider these as having been found, for any particular
working substance, by the direct use of Watt's indicator.
rt is easy to see that one, and only one, of each of these
kinds of lines can be found for an assigned initial state of
the working substance ; also that, because in expansion at
constant temperature heat must be constantly' supplied,
the pressure will fall off less rapidly than it does in
adiabatic expansion. Thus in the diagram the adiabatic
lines PQ, P'Q' cut the lines of equal temperature PP',
QQ' downwards and to the right. Thus the boundary of
the area PFQ'Q does not cross itself. To determine the
behaviour of the engine we have therefore only to find
liow much heat is taken in along PP' and how much is
(^ven out in Q'Q. Their difference is. e(j[uivalefU. to the
\ioxk. expressed by the area PP'Q'Q.
4. Camot's Principle of Reversibility. — It will be
ubserved that each operation of this cycle is strictly
i-eversible ; for instance, to take the working substance
rtlong the path P'P we should have to spend on it step by
litep as much work as it gave out in passing along PP',
and we should thus restore to the source of heat exactly
the amount of heat which the working, substaiice took
ifom it during the' expansion. Jn the case of the hdlabatics
the work spent during compression' is the same as that
done during the corresponding expansion, and tb°'B is no
question of loss or gain of heat directly.
If, however, a transfer of heat between tlie working
substance and its surroundings have taken place on account
of a finite difference of temperature, it is clear that' such
an operation is not reversible. Strictly speaking, isother-
mal expansion or contraction is unattainable in practice,'
but it is (without limit) more flosely approximated to a»
the operation is more slowly performed. The adiabatic
condition, on the other hand, is more closely approximated
to in praictice the more swiftly the oi)eration is performed.
We have an excellent instance of this in the compression
and dilatation of air caused by the propagation of a sound-
wave.
And now we have Carnot's invaluable proposition, a
reversible heat-engine is a perfect engine, — perfect, that is,
in the sense thit no other heat-engine can be superior to
it. Before giving the proof, let us see the immense con-
sequences of this proposition. Reversibility is the sole
test of perfection ; so that all heat-engines, whatever be
the working mbstance, provided only they be reversible,
convert into work (under given circumstances) the same
fraction of the heat supplied to them. cTheonly circum-
stances involved are the temperatures of the source and
condenser. Thus we are furnished with a general principle
on which to reason about transformation of heat, altogether
independently of the properties of any particular substance.'
The proof, as Carnot gave it on the hypothesis of the
materiaiity of heat, is ex absurdo. It is as follows.
Suppose a heat-engine A to be capable of giving more
work from a giveii amount of heat than is a reversible
engine B, the temperatures of source and condenser being
the same for each. Use the two as a compound engine,
A working direct and B reversed. By hypothesis B
requires to be furnished vrith part only of the work given
by A to be able to restore to the source the heat abstracted
by A, and thus at every complete stroke of the compound
engine the source has its heat restored to it, while a
certain amount of external work has been done. Thia
would be the Perpetual Motion (?.».).
5. ■ The Basis of the Second Law of Thermodynami;s.^^
Camot's reasoning, just given, is based on the hypothesis
that heat (or caloric) is indestructible, and that (under
certain conditions) it does work in being let down from a
higher to a lower temperature, just as does water when
falling to a lower level. It is clear from several expressions
in his work that Carnot was not at all satisfieid with this
view, even in 1824, and we have seen that he soon after-
wards reached the true theory. But it is also clear that
such an assumption somewhat simplifies the reasoning, for
in his hypothetical heat-engine all the heat which leaves
the boiler goes to the condensei, and itice versa in the
reversed working. The precise po.nt of Camot's investiga-
tion where the supposed indestructibility of heat introduces
error is when, after virtually saying compress from Q' to
a state Q determined by the condition that the heat given
out shall bo exactly equal to that taken in during the
expansion from P to P', he assumes that, on farther com,
pressing adiabatically to the original volume, the point R
will be reached and the cycle completed. J. Thomson;
in 1849,' rectified this by putting it in the true form :—
6om press from Q' to a state Q, such that subsequent
adiabatic compression will ultimately lead to the state P. -,
We have now to consider that, if an engine (whether
simple or compound) does work at all b;^ means of heat,
less heat necessarily reaches the condenser than left the
boiler. Hence, if there be two engines A and 6 as before,
and the ji>iat ejrr^em be worked in such a way that B
oonstacllj teataraB to thti s:>urce the beat taken from it bj.
THERMODYNAMICS
285
A, we can account for the excess of work done by A over
that spent on B solely by supposing that B takes more
heat from the condenser than A gives to U. Such a com-
pound engine would transform into work heat taken solely
from the condenser. And the work so obtained might be
employed on B, so as to make it convey heat to the source
while farther cooling the condenser.
Clausius, in 1850, sought to complete the proof by the
simple statement that " this contradicts the usual behaviour
of heat, which always tends to pass from wanner bodies
to colder." Some years later he employed the axiogi, "it
is impossible for a self-acting machine, unaided by. any
external agency, to convey heat from one body to another
at a higher temperature." W. Thomson, in 1851, employed
the axiom, "it is impossible, by means of inanimate
material agency, to derive mechanical effect fjom any
portion of matter by cooling it below the temperature
of the coldest of the surrounding objects." But he was
careful to supplement this by further statements of an
extremely guarded character. And rightly so, for Clerk-
Maxwell has pointed out that such axioms are, as it were,
only accidentally correct, and that the true ba<» of the
second law of thermodynamics lies in the extreme small-
ness and enormous number of the particles of matter, and
in consequence the steadiness of their average behaviour.
Had we the means of dealing with the particles individu-
*lly, we could develop on the large scale what taljes place
wotinually on a very minute scale in every mass of gas,
— the occasional, but ephemeral, aggregation of warmer
particles in one small region and of colder in another.
6. TTte Laws of T/imnm/ynamus. — I When equal quan-
tities of mechanical eOect are produced by any means
whatever from purely thermal sources, or lost in purely
thermal effects, equal quantities of heat are put out of
existence, or are generated (To this we may add, after
Joule, that in the latitude of Manchester 772 foot-pounds
of work are capable of raising the temperature of a pound
of water from 50° F to 51° K This corres(ionds to 1390
foot-pounds per centigrade degree, and in metrical units
to 425 kilogramme-metres [ler calone (see Heat) ]
II. If an engine be such that, when it is worked back-
wards, the physical and mechanical agencies in every part
of its motions are all reversed, it produces as much
mechanical effect as can be produced by any thermo-
dynamic engine, with the same temperatures of sourc^ and
refrigerator, from a given quantity of heat.
7. Al.mlute Temperature. — We have seen that the frac-
tion of the heat supplied to it which a reversible engine
can convert into work depends on/i/ on the temperatures
of the boiler and of the condenser On this result of
Carnofs Sir W. Thomson based his absolute definition of
temperature. It is clear that a certain freedom of choice
is left, and Thomson endeavoured to preserve as close an
agreement as possible between the new scale and that of the
air thermometer. Thus the definition ultimately fixed on,
after exhaustive experiments, runs- — "The temperatures
of two bodies' are proportional to the quantities of heat
respectively taken in and given out lu localities at one
temperature and st the other respectively, by a material
system subjected to a complete cycle of perfectly reversible
thermodynamic operations, and not allowed to part with
or take in heat at any other temperature ; or. the absolute
values of two temperatures are to one another in the pro-
portion of the heat taken in to the heat rejected in a per-
fect thermodynamic engine, working with a source and
refrigerator at the higher and lower of the temperatures
respectively."' If we now refer again to fig. 1, we see
that, ( and f being the absolute temperatures correspond-
ing to PP and QQ', and H, H' the amonnte of beat taken
' Trant. Ji.S.£., May 1864.
Also, if heat be
in during the operation PP' and given out during the
operation Q Q respectively, we have
H/(-H7<'.
whatever be the values of '. and I
measured in terms of work, we have
H-H'-areaPP'Q'Q
Thus with a reversible engine working between tempera-
tures t and t' the fraction of the heat supplied which is
converted into work is (t - t')/t.
It 13 now evident that we can construct Watt's diagram
in such a way that the lines of equal temperature and
the adiabatics may together intercept a series of equal
areas. Thus let PP'
(fig. 2) be the iso-
thermal t, and on it
so take points P',
F', P", (tc, that,
as the working sub-
stance passes from
P to P. p- to P", \ ^r--;.^-A«-
4c., t units of heat
(the unit being of
any assigned value)
shall in each case be
taken in. Let QQ', Fi«- 3-
KK', (tc, be other isothermals, so drawn that the suc-
cessive areas PQ', QR', (tc., between any two selected
adiabatics, may be equal. Then, as it is clear that all
the successive areas between each one pair of isothermals
are equal (each representing tlie area t-t), it follows that
all the quadrilateral areas in the figure are e(iual.
It 13 now clear that the area included between PF and
the two adiabatics PQR, FQR' is essentially /i«i(f, being
numerically equal to t. Thus the temperature for each
isothermal is represented by the corresponding area. This
18 indicated in the cut by the introduction of an arbitrary
line SS', supposed to he the isothermal of absolute zero.
The lower parts of the adiabatics also are unknown, so
that we may draw them as we please, subject to the con-
dition that the entire areas PS', FS", P"S"', (tc, shall all be
equal. To find, on the absolute scale, the numerical valus
of two definite temperatures, such as the usually employed
freezing and boiling points of water, we must therefore
find their ratio (that of the heat taken and the heat rejected
by a reversible engine working between these temperatures),
and assign the number of degrees in the interval.
Thomson and Joule experimentally showed that this
ratio is about 1 3(35. Hence, if we assume (as in the
centigrade scale) 100 degrees as the range, the tcm|iera-
tures in question are 274 and 374 nearly. A full discus-
sion of this most important matter will be found under
Heat.
8 Entropy. — Just as the lines PF. QQ', (tc, are
characterized by constant temperature along each, so we
figure to ourselves a quantity which is characteristic of
each adiabatic line, — being constant along it. The equation
of last section at once points out such a quantity. If we
write ti, for its value along PQ, 0' for PQ', we may define
'bus
0 -0-H/(.
From the statements as to the equality of the areas in
fig. 2 the reader will see at once that the area bounded by
t, (', <t>, *' IS (t - t'}{<j}' - tt>). We are concerned only with
thecAa/i<7fsof (^, not with its actual magnitude, so that any
one adiabatic may be chosen as that for which (^ = 0.
9. The DiJisipation of Energy. — In the before-cited article
Energy (vol viii. p. 210) this part of the subject has
already been treated. Since that article was written bir
William Thumson Las introduced the term themodyiiamtc
motivUy to signify " the possession the waste of which is
286
THERMODYNAMICS
called dissipation " We speak of a distribution of heat in
a body or system of bodies as having motivity, and we
may regard it from without or from within the system
In the Hrsrcase it expresses the amount of work which
can be obtained by means of perfect engines employed to
reduce the whole system to some definite temperature,
that, say, ot th». surrounding medium In the second
case the system is regarded as self-contained, its hotter
parts acting as sources, and its colder parts as condensers
for the perfect engine
\s an instance of internal motivity we may take the
case of a system consisting of two equal portions of the
same substance at different temperatures, say a pound of
boiling water and a pound of ice-cold water [f we
neglect the (small) change of specific beat with tempera-
ture. It IS found that, when the internal motivity of the
system is exhausted, the temperature is about 46' C ,
being the centigrade temperature corresponding to the geo-
metrical mean of the original absolute temperatures of the
[•arts Hao the parts been simply mixed so as to dissipate
the internal motivity, the resulting temperature would have
been 50° C Thus the work gained (it , the original inter-
nal motivity) 19 the equivalent of the beat which would
raise two pounds of water from 46° C. to 50' C
As an instance of motivity regarded from without we
may lake the simple case of the working substance in § 2,
on the hypothesis that there is an assigaed lower tempera-
ture limit As there is no supply of heat, it is clear that
the maximum of work will be obtained by allowing the
substance to expand adiabatically till its temperature sinks
to Ihe assigned limit
Thus if P (fig 3) be its given position on Watt's diagram,
PQ the adiabatic through P. and PQ the isothermal of
the lower temperature limit, Q p
IS determinate, and the motivity
is the area PQNM If, again,
We wish to find the motivity
wheu the initial and final stales
P and P are given, with the
Cimdiliuo that the temperature
is nut to fall belnw that of the
state P', the problem is reduced
to finding the course PP for which the area PPM'M is
greatest As no heat is su[iplied, the course cannot rise
above the adiabalic PQ, and by hy|iothesis it cannot fall
below tlie isotheriiial PQ, — hence it must be the broken
line PQP TLua. under the circumstances stated, the
nioliviiy IS represented by the are,. MPQPM II any
other lawful course, such as PP be taken, there is an un
oecessary waste of motivity ripresented by the area PQP
ly EUmeruary Th^rrruxiyruiniti fUtiilinnA — Front whal prerfiles
It Ifl clear Ihnt wlieu tlir slate ul uitil rnii^s of the ^lur klli^ sult^taliie
ia (^veo by a poinl in tlir >iid^iiiiii «ti istftlierii,al aitd an aJlal>utl<
can Ih* 'Ira^n througl' thai point aoit tlms 9 aud ' are delti niitiatr
foi <;acli iiarii'-ular sobauin a wlieii p aitj ,, are f^iveu Tbu> any
two ol llir iuiir •)uaalilie> ;«. v t. <t> may ■>« te^atded as luoilioub
of the otiiei two, '"liustn as ludeficrideul vauable* Tbe cbaoge of
enrr^y from one alato to aiiolliel can. o( ''ouiat). be uxpres.sed Vi ID
I 9. abovo I'hua, puitiii^ £ for ilio euci^y tva have al once
■lk.-td<p ■ futr III
if 0 and i> br> choseb «> iinlependent variables, and if heat be
oieasured. as atmve Hi oniis of work This equation enpresses. iu
aynilnjU. Iho two laws of IhernjoJyuaiTiicsi For it statca that the
gam of energy la the exresa of llie heat supplied over the work
done, kkhkh if* an ex|ires»iori of tlie first taw And il expresses
the heal snppln-d as the produci of Ihe aLisolute leoiperature by
the gain of etiiropy. whicb is a slalcnieut of Ihe second law to
terms of Tbuuifton a ujoite of nieasuring abaolule teOii>erutur&
lltii wo uow bave iwo ei(uations lu partuU aitferential co-
• ftlcleuU ■— ,
Frooi tbiiw wo bave iwu eiprsaaiaoa fur lbs value ol { .—r^ ).
E<iuatiDg them, we are led to the tbenno<lyoamic reliUai
\Tv)~ '[d^J
the difTerenttal coefficients being again nartiaL
This expresses a property of all " working sabstances, * defined aa
in § 1 To state it in words, let us multiply end divide the right
hand side by I. and it then reads —
Thi rale at which Uu temperature falU of per unit increase cf
volume tn adiahatic expaiisixni is equal to the rate at which thi pres-
sure increases per dt/iiamieal unit of heat supplied at etmstant volume,
muUiplied by the absolute temperature
Toobuin a similar result with vend fas lodepeudent variables, we
have only to subtract from both sides of 1 1) tbe complete ilifferential
d{t<fi), 80 that
d{S.-l4>i- - 0dt-fKiii
ProoeediDg exactly as before we Gnd
[o ivords thu resolt roos (wheD both eides are multiplied by 0 :~
7^ rau of increase of pressure unlh Uinperature at canstaiU
ootume, muUiplud by ihe aMolule UmpcroXurt, is equal to the raU
at which heat must be supplied per unit increoM of vulume to keep
the Uinperature constant
Very slight variatioDs of the processjust giveo obuiA ch« follow-
iDg varietiea of expressioD —
(S)-(|)-(l)--(g)
which are to be interpreted aa above
11. Increase of Total Energy under variou* Condiiiont. — The
expressioD (1) of § 10 may be put in various forma, each cooveoieDi
for aome special purpose We give one example, aa sufficiently
showing the processes employed Thus, suppose we wish to hod
how the energy of the workiog substance varies with its volume
when the temperatore is kept constant, we must express dlL t&
terms of do ana dt Thus
But we have, by g 10, usder preaent cooditioo*
a result assumed in a pravious article (Radiation, vol xx |r. 217).
If the working substance huve the property (that of the so-^'ailod
" ideal " perfect gas)
pi-— hi
we see that, for it.
ThB energy of funlt mass oO such a substance thus depends upon
Its temperature ulooe
12 SpenJU Heat of a Fluid —Specific heat in its most general
acceptutioD IS the heat required, under some given condition, to
raise the tempecature uf uuit mass by one degree. Thus it is tbo
heat lakeD in while the working suUsiaoce passes, by some assigned
patli, froni one isothermal t to aootlier f-t-I, aud this may, of
course, have aa many values as there are possible paths Usually,
hunever, but two of these paths are spoken of, au>l these are taken
[tarallel respectively to the coordinate axes lu Watt's diagram,
&u thai we speak of the specific heat at constant volume or at con-
stant pressure In what follows these will be denoted by c and k
resiHictively
Take v aud p for the independent variables, as in tbe diagram,
and let k t>e the specific heat corrt:S|>ondiug to the coAdiUob
/("» P)~ const
Then
while
and
,dt~td^-t{^^dvJ^^dp)^
di> dp '^
di^ -T dv^ -rdp
dv dp '^
Thus
d<p dj dtp df
dv dp dp dv
dv dp dp dv
This expression vanishes if/ and <p vary together, i.e., in adiabatic
expansion, and becomes infinite if/ and ( vary together, i.e., in
isothermal expansion , as mi<;ht easily have been foreseen Other
wise it has a finite value. It is usual, however, to choose v and I
as indtpendent variables, while we deal analytically (a^ distin-
guisnad from Jiagrammaticallyi with the subject From this poiiil
of view we Lavv
T H E R M O D Y N A M I C S'
287
tent »1ic !ist tiTiiroii tbc right is, by definition/oft ; so that.
with «l'a condition
thi
cU
dt do
" dv dtldv
•Tficn is « porloctly general expression. As tho'most important
case, let/ represent the i)rcsiurc, thcv wn sec, by § 10, that
d(p lip
.da'"M ■
tod the formala becomes^
13.' Ihnperttes 0/ an Ideal Substana tokich JolUnri thi Lava of
Boyle and Charles. — Closely approximate ideas of the thermal
behaviour of a j^s such as air, at ordinary temperatuies and prea-
nues, may be obtained .by assuming the rclatioa
pvVJ.
which expresses the laws of Boyle and Charlcsi Thus, by tho
formnla of last section, we havo at onoe
*-c = <
V \ V
• relation given originally by Carnot
Hence, in such a substance.
.^ dl „ .dv
d<p=e- +{k-cy—,
t V
or ^-#i, = i:log« + (i-<r)log»
In terms of volume and pressure, this is
.^-^o-clogp/R + Hogti;
jr. pv»'' = R('*-*«l"-
the equation of the adiabatics on W.itt's diagram.
This is (for ^ constant) the relation between p and V in'the pro-
fiSgation of sound.. It follows from the theory of wavo-motion
,Utdeomecha>'iC3) that the speed of sound is
■J-.
where I is the temperature of the undistorbed air. This expres-
sion gives,- by comparison witli the observed spccil of sound, a
very accurate determination of the ratio i/c in terms of R. Tho
value of R is easily obtained by experiment, and we have just seen
that it is equal to k-'e , so that k and c can be found for air with
great accuracy by this process, — a most remarkal^'- iostance of tbo
indirect measurement of a quantity (c) whose direct determination
presents very formidable difficulties.
14. Effat of Pressure on tht Mdliiuj or Boiling Point of a Sub-
ttanee. — 3y tho second of the thermodynamic relations in § 10,
above, we have
sothat'
I
Bnt, irthe fraction « of the wording substance be in one molecular
state (say liquid) in which V^ is the volume of unit mass, while
the remainder 1 -e is in a state (solid) whero_Vi is the volumo of
anit mass, we have obviously
i = cV„ + (l-<.)V,.
Let L be the latent heat of the liquid, then
('>±\^ tl<'_ ^__X
yu- j t[\\-\\),iA ((V,-V,) _ _
^ . Also, as in a mixture of the same suhst^incc in two diflerent states,
4he pressure remains tho same while the volume changes at con*
jitant temperature, we have ilp/ih-O, so that hnally
Vhich show3 how tho tomporaturc is altered by ft small chanj^c'cf
pressure.
In the case of ice and water. V, i-» greater than V^, bo iho
temperature of the trvtMu^poinl iy lowered by increase of pressure.
Whrn tho proper numcrinal values of V^, V(, and L are introduced.
It is fo'ind that tho freezing; point ia lowered by about 0° 0074 C.
for t-ach Additional atmosphrrc.
Whun water and stram ure in pquilibrium," we have V^ murh
preater tlirin V,, ^o thrxt t>:o >)OiIin;;-iKiiiit (as is wtM known) is
raisr^ by procure. The sai.ic hap[*n3. and for the .same reason.
with tho molting point, in tbo case of bo<lies which expotid in the
act of nicltiu<j, such as beeswax, pamffm, cast-iron, and lava.
Such bodies may therefore bo kept solid by sufficient pressure,
even at temperatures far nbc i their ordinary melting points.
This is, in a slightly altered form, the leasoniug of Jamc*
Thomson, alluded to above as one of the first striking applications
of Carnot's methods made after his work was recalled to notice.
15. EjT^'ct of Pressure <»i Maximum Dcnsittj Point of IViUer. — _
One of the moat sin^lar properties of water at atmospheric pres-
sure is that it has its maximum density at 4** C. Another, first
pointed out by Canton in 1764, is that its compressibility {per
atmosphere) is greater at low than atonlinary temperatui-es, — oeing.
according to his measurements, 0'000,049 at 34* F., and only
0 000,044 at 64° F. It is ea:«y to sec (though it appears to have
been first pointed out by Puschl in 1875) that the second of these
properties involves the Imoering of tlio maximum density point by
increase of pressure. To calculate the numerical amount of this
ofifcct, note that tho expansibility, like all other thermal properties,
may be exprease4as a function of any two of the quantities /'t V| ^
0 ; say in the piTsont case p and t Then we have for the expan^
ability
Also tho compressibility may be expressed as '^
The relation between small simultaneous increments of pressnr*
and temperature, which are such as to leave the expansibility
unchanged, is thus
(l)'-(|>-°
Now the expansibility is zero at the maximum deilsity point, for
which Uierefore this equation holds.' , But the equauona above
give
so that
(S)-(^)'-o.
The volume of water at low temperatures under atmospheric J)re«;
eure varies approximately as
144. con*
Thus we have ( -r; j—.n nftn °'*'''y i *"'J f"'" Canton's exoeri-
mental result above stated we gather that (roughly at least)
m-
0-000,005^- -0 000.000,3 ;
from which the formnla gives -0°'0'2 C. nearly for the change of
the maximum density point due to one .idditional atmosphere:
Recent investigations, carried out by direct as well as by indirect
methods, seem to agi"ee in showing that the true value is somewhat
less than this, viz., about -0°018 C. ; so that water has its
maiimnm density at 0° C. when subjected to about 223 atmo.
spheres. Thus, taking account of the result of § 14 above, we find
that the maximum density point coincides with the freezing point
at - 2' 8 C. under an additional pressure of about 377 atmospheres,
or (say) 2 5 tons weight per square inch.
16. Motivity and Entropy, IHssipalion of Energy. — The motivity
of the quantity H of heat, in a body at temperature t, is ;
.Hi.t-Q/t,
whero tt, is tho lowest available temperature.
The entropy is expressed simply as
HA,
b<ing independent of any limit of temjieraturo ■-,
If the heut pass, by coiidiirtion, to :i body of temperature f (leis
than (, but greater than tj, the change of motivity (i.f., the dis-
sipation of energy) is
H'.(44).
which is, of course /osszwhilo the corresponding change of ontropy
is the fjain " ~
"(r-r)
The numerical valne«rof these quantities dilfcr by tho factor t^,
so that, if wo could hive a condcM'^ir :it absolulo zero, there could
be nn 4lis^ip:ili»;n nf rntr^y. Hut w: <ce that Clau.'sius's statement
thit the emropy of tin: niiivet>c tcnd-i to a maximum is practicully
nitrdy .in<nh*T w.iy os' rxi-re-isui;; Thomson's earlier thcorv '^f the
disMp:iti(iii ')f ciitii^y
Wlur tical is ex( h:iii;^> d aTnu'iga number of hadics, part of.i^
'^6Q
T H E — T H E
being transformed by hcntengines into work, thB work oitainable
(i t ■ til' Biotivity) is
S(H)-<„S(H/0
Tlie work obtained, however, is simply
S(H)
Thua the waste, or amount needles^sly dissipated, is'
This muiit bed£sentia)lya positive quantity except in the case when
perfect engines have been employed in all the operations. In that
caso (unless indeed the unatuinabl<' condition ^j— 0 were folliilcd)
SiH/O-O.
which is the general expression of reversibility
17 Works on the Subject. — Carnot's work has, as we have seen,
been reprinted. The scattered papers of Rankiiie, Thomson, and
Clauaius have also been iasned in collected forms. So havo the
experimental papers of Joule. ■iThe special treatises on Thcntio-
dynamiM are Tery namerouSi but that of Clerk-Maxwell {Theory of
Heat), though in, some respects rather formidable to a beginner,
ia as yet far superior to any of its rivals. (P. G. T.)
THERMOELECTRICITV. See Electeioitv, vol. viii;
pp. 9i>g.
THERMOMETER, w instrument for detecting and
measuring differences in temperature. The name is usu-
ally restricted. to instruments adapted for use at moderate
temperatures; those for measuring high temperatures
are termed pyrometers (see I^ykometkr). Thermometry
has been treated theoretically under Heat (see voL xi.
p. 558 sq,). It here remains to trace the history of ther-
mometers, and to describe the principal forms in use.
IIi3tory.~^T\K honour of inventing the thermometer
has been given to several natural philosophers-of the 16th
oenjflrjj the clarms of Robert Fludd are more,
tangible fban those of Drebbel and Santorio,
but the instrument invented by Galileo before
1597 seems best entitled to bo considered the
precursor of accurate thermometers. All the
early instruments were air thermoscopes, and,
until the variations of atmospheric pressure
were discovered, their use was only deceptive.
Galileo's thermometer (fig. 1) consisted of a
glass bulb containing air, terminating below in
a long glass tube which dipped into a vessel
containing a coloured fluid. The variations of
volume of the enclosed air caused th j fluid to
fall or rise in the tube, to which an arbitrary
scale »U8 attached. The great step in advance
of inventing the alcohol thermometer is also
^
due to Galileo, but the date (probably 1011 (^^
or 1612) is not precisely known. Rinieri "• fig i
pertainly had alcohol thermometers made before 1647,
and they are referred to as familiarly known in the
oldest memoirs of the Accademia del Cimento
(1667). Ip form they resembled those now in
uee ; they had large spherical (or, occasionally,
cylindrical or helical) bulbs, and the degrees in-
tended to represent thousandths of the volume
of the reservoir were marked with beads of enamel
fused on to the stem (fig 2) All the Florentine'
instruments were graduated in the same way, but
the scale was arbitrary, aiid the recorded readings
were accordingly supposed fft a long time to be
useless In 1829 tliB fortunate discovery by
Aiitinori of a number at those early FlorenttBe
th'^rmofnetcrs enabled tlioir scale to be a.scer-
tained and tran.'<lnted into known degrees The
tempeiaiure of melting ire wa.i marked by them
as 13 5, while 50 corresponded with 65° C. No
means of comparing ob.spivalions made by ther
nnometers o( different manufacturo existed until
certain fixed pointa of universal accessibility were
discovered The thermal conditions of freezing
water were studied with great care, but natural congelation
rao generally supposed to take placo at variable tompera-
tiires, until Fahrenheit proved tirat, however much water
could be cooled down without freezing, the- temperature
when ice began to form was always the same. Hooke, it>
1G65 (Mtcroyrap/ua, p. 38), describes the manufacture and
graduation of comparable spirit thermometers with th6
freezing \io\nt of water as the zero of their scales, and h«
evidently recognized it as fixed. Halley in J693 stated
that the temperature ot boiling water is constant, and
this -was again jiroved by Anioiitons in 1702. In 1694
Renaldcui of Padua proposed to graduate thermometer.^
by taking as standards of temperature mi.\tures cf definite
volumes of ice-cold and boiling water. This method,
although theoretically admirable (see Heat, vol. xi. p.
559), 13 defective in practice. Seven years later Newton
proposed anonymously {P/iil. Trans:, 1701, vol. .xxii. p.
824) a thermometer scale on which the temperature of
freezing water was 0", and that of the blood of a healthy '
man \2°. Continuing the graduation of a linseed-oil
thermometer above this point, be found that water boiled
at 3-4° Fahrenheit in- 1714 took as fixed points the
temperature of the human body and that of a mixture ot
ice and sal ammoniac gr common salt. In 1721 he made
a mercury thermometer according to Halley s sugf^estion
of 1693, and by <ncan3 of it he proved the dependence of
the boiling point on pressure. It was not until after
Fahrenheit's death that the freezing and boiling points of
water we.re universally accepted as fijced points on the
thermometric scale. The thermometer has remained un-
changed in its main features since the middle of the 18th
century. Mercury has been found the most convenient
fluid for ordinary use, in spite of the advantages (Heat,
vol xi. p. 561 sq ) presented by lighter and more volatile
liquids. Graduation of .thermometers; by marking oS
volumes of the stem equal to.^ jrivea fractiort'-cf the
capacity of the bulb, although reintroduced by Reaumui
in 1730, has now' been entirely discontinued.
Tbe idea of a self-registering thermometer ■ early pre
sented itself. Many forms were dcvi^jd by natural philo-
sophers and instrument-makers. That of Sixe, in 1782,
a precursor of which, dating from the 17th century, is
preserved amongst the instruments of the Florentine
Academy, was the mo.st successful.
Scales. — The absolute zero of temperature is the logical
beginning of a thermometric scale, but some point easy of
reference is desirable, and this is found in the tempera-
ture at which ice melts and water freezes. The second
accepted fixed point is that at which distilled water boils
under the pressure of 760 millimetres (2992 in ) of mer»
cury. For the division of the spade between the two
fixed points into degrees of convmuent length oitJy three
of th« innumerable methods proposed have survived, and
one of these, the centigrade, is rapidly becoming universal.
The oldest system, that of Fahrenheit, dates from 1724.
It is used for meteorological purposes, and popuKiily, in
Great Britain, the British colonies, and the I'nitt^d States.
The freezing point is marked ^y and tiie Ixiilmg point of
water 212°. At first Fahrenheit employed a scale of 180
degrees , the zero was placed at " lenipeiatu ' (9" (^ ), 90'
at " blood heat." the point to which the alcohol rose when
the thcrmonieter was placed under the arm of a healthy
man , and - 90° at the tmiperature of a mixture of ue and
salt, then believed to be the gioate.st j>ossible cold In
1714 Fahrenheit changed his scale at the suggestion of
the Danish astronomer Roemer. place.! 0' at hts absolute
zero," and divided the space between that and the warmth
of the human body into 24 degrees TUe.tfreezing point
of water thus became 8° For convenience, these long
degrees were divided into quarters, uhirh were.i^ftecwards
termed degrees; thus the Ireezing ixSinV became 32' and
blood hpat 96* A mercury thennometer; gifoduated in
A
THERMOMETER
289
ITiis way,' TTidi'divTsions 'of "equal length continued above
blood lieat,' leLjisteiod 21-° in boiling water. Thus the
Fahrenheit scnic came from a duodecimal reckoning.
Dc Lisle, in I7'24, introduced a scale in which the
boiling point of ^ater was marked 0° and the temperature
of the cellars of the Paris Observatory 100" He after-
wards adopted the freezing point of water as his upper
fixed point, and called it 150°. This scale was used for
many years in Russia, but is now obsolete.
In 1730 Reaumur made alcohol thermometers with their
■^ero at the freezing point of water, and degrees of ono-
thousandth of the volume of the bulb. On some of these
the boiling point of water was S0° ; but the instruments
were defective in principle and very unequal in their
indications. Deluc introduced mercury thermometers
"graduated from 0° in melting ice to 80° in boiling water,
and these, with Reaumur's name attached, are in use for
popular purposes in Germany, Holland, and other parts of
the Continent.
Celsius adopted a centesimal scale in 1742. The boiling
■point was marked 0° and the freezing point of water
100°. Linnsus introduced the mode of reckoning from
0° in melting ice to 100° in boiling water, which is now
known as the centigrade, and is used tiniversally in
laboratories, and in all except English-speaking countries
for every scientific purpose.
Fahrenheit's scale is convenient lor meteorological work
on account of its short degrees, adnlitting^ of great accuracy
in reading and compactness in recording, and on account
of its low zero, which makes it posabl'e in temperate
climates to dispense with negative quantities. On the
other hand, the centigrade scale is on the whole so con-
venient, its use is so nearly universal, and the advantage
of a uniform system is so great that it must ultimately be
adopted for all purposes.*
AiK Thermometer. — Under constant pressure gases expand
equally for equal increments of heat. Hence, when an air thenno-
metAT is graduated between two fixed points the graduation may
be continued above and below these points in degrees of the same
length ; and any number of air thermometers so made will agree
amongst themselves at every temperature. The principle of air
thermometers is treated of in Heat [tU sup.)^ and examples of
special forms are described in that article and in Pyrometer,
The sir thermometer is the ultimate standard of reference to which
ill other thermometers are referred.
Alcohol "Thermometer. — Alcohol, the first liquid used for
thermometric' purposes, possesses numerous advantages, and on
account of its low freezing point it is always used for observations
in polar regions. Alcohol thermometers are graduated by fixing
the freezing point in melting ice and by comparison with a mer-
cury or air thermometer at several higher and lower temperatures.
Recently low-temperature thermometers have been verified at Kew
in melting mercury at the temperature of - 40. The law of expan-
sion of alcohol in glass at low temperatures is not known with such
precision as to make the minimum indications of Arctic expedi-
tions entirely trustworthy. The graduation of ordinary minimum
alcohol thermometers used for meteorological purposes is effected
by comparison with mercury standards, and their indications, so
far as this source of nncertainty is concerned, may consequently
be relied on.
Mercury ik Glass Thermometer. —The simplest form is the
Weight Thermometer, a large glass bulb terminating in a capillary
tube, and filled with a known weight of mercury at 0° C. The
weight of mercury that escapes when the apparatus is heated to
^ The process of converting readings of any one of the three existing
wales into those of any other is a simple matter of proportion. They
«Und in the ratio of 80 : 100 : 180 (32 being subtracted from Fahren-
heit temperatures before the calculation is made, and added to the
result when converting from Reaumur or centigrade into Fahrenheit).
An easy rule for changing centigrade readings into Fahrenheit meotally
Isr-multiply the centigrade temperature by 2,8ubtTact one- tenth of
the product, and odd 32 -.e.g., 10° C. -=20-2 + 32-50° F. These
rules are only to be applied to thermometers made with all modem
precautions. When the boiling point was determined by immersing
the bulb of the thermometer in boiling water or in Rtearo at any
pressure other than 760 mm. appropriate corrections have to be
ipplied. For a detailed historical account, see Renoo, " Uiitoire da
rhermonUtni " ^luiiiatrt &k. UU. it France. 1878-
100° is determined, ana the temperature of any'enclosnro is then
ascertained by placing in it the thermometer filled at zero, and
weighing the liquid that runs out. Thermometers on this principle
were used by Regnanlt in his celebrated researches on steam.
Standard Therm&mciers. — The tubo is sometimes made witi^
elliptical bore to ensure visibility of the mercury column, but it ia
usually circular in section. The internal diameter must be as
nearly as possible uniform. This is tested by a proliminary
calibration in which a short thread of mercury is measured in
different parts of the tube. The length of stem and the range of
the thermometer having been decided upon, the size of the bulb is
calculated from the known e.\pansibility of mercury and the section
of the bore. The bulb is made as nearly as possible the required
size, either by blowing it from a tubo or prelerably by forming it
of a glass cylinder, and attached to the stem. The bulb is usually
cylindrical in form and it must be uniform in thickness. The
utmost care requires to be exercised to keep the bulb and stem dry!
and clean and to fill them with pure mercury recently distilled.'
The mercury is boiled in the thermometer for some time to drive
out all traces of air and moisture, and the point of tho stom it
sealed off. It the thermometer is not intended to measure tem-
peratures up to the boiling point of mercury, an expansion should
■fie made at the top of the tube to prevent bursting from accidental
overheating. Under Heat (vol. xi. p. 561) the changes of volume
which thermometer bulbs undergo in cooling and for a long time
afterwards are discussed. The process of annealing by heating to
a temperature exceeding 400° C. for some hours as originally pro-
posed by Person,^ or in vapour of mercury for several days as
recently practised at Kew, renders the thermometer much less
liable to suffer change of zero by the lapse of time or by heating to
any lower temperature. All instruments of precision shoula be
treated in this way, or kept for several years after they have been
fiDed and sealed before they are graduated.
The first fixed point on the scale is marked at the place where
the mercury stands when the thermometer is buried in melting ice
from which the water is allowed to drain away, the second at the
place where the mercury stands when the thermometer is immersed
in steam of water boiling freely under the pressure of 760 mm.
(29-92 inches) of mercury corrected to 0° C. The space between
these may be graduated either in arbitrary equidistant divisions,
as it is best to do in delicate instruments, or in degrees of any
scale. Each degree centigrade is y^ of the volume of the tube
between the freezing and boiling points ; if the tube is quite
uniform in bore the degrees will he of equal length and may be
marked off correctly by a dividing en^ne. If the preliminary
calibration showed the tube to vary in diameter, the degree marks
are often adjusted to correspond to intervals of equal volume. It
is better in all cases, whether degrees or arbitrary divisions are
adopted, to have them of equal length and correct the rflading<! by
the calibration curve. The scale may be continued above ana
beneath the fixed points in degrees or divisions of the same length.
Calibration consists in measuring the iDtemal volume of the
thermometer tube by means of a thread of mercury detached from
the main column. There are several ways of doing this, for parti-
culars of which reference may be made to the British Assoaation
RqMrt on the subject (1882, pp. 145-204), where_ references to
original memoirs. are given. The best and simplest is Gay Lns&ic's
" step by step '' method.
The most reijfent and approved processes of manufacturing, testing,
and using stahdard thermometers of great delicacy and nigh pre-
cision are described by Gnillaume in his "Etudes Thermom^triqnes'*
( Travaxix el MemmTcs du Bureau International da Poida el Mefaresi
v., 1886) ;' for additional information the work of Pickering cited
below may also be consulted.
Comparison of Thermometers. — As the apparent ezpansioii ol
mercury in glass from -39° to 100° C.* is very nearly proportional
to the amount of heat imparted to it, a thermometer made and
divided as indicated above is a natural standard. But the apparent
expansion with different kinds of glass differs (see Heat, vol, xi.
pp. 563-4),' and, except at the fixed points or near them, mercury
thermometers of different constmction will only fortuitously agree
absolutely among themselves or with the air thermometer,
Bosscha^ states that at 60° C. the mercury thermometer shows
an error of 0°'5, other experimenters place it as high as 1°, but
Mascart found it to amount only to 0°-06.' For purposes of ordi-
nary experiment thermometers are compared at several tempera-
tures with some standard instrument of known value — that of the
Kew observatory for Great Britain, — and all results are stated in
terms of the standard. The methods of comparison at Kew are
' Comptes Rendut, lii., 1844, p. 1314..
• Abstract by Guillaume iu the Slanccs de la Soc. Franfaitl dd
Physique, 1886, p. 219.
• Ayrton and Perry, Phil. ilag. {5], xrii. 1886, p. 325.
• See also Kraffls, Comptes Jiaidus, xcv. 836.
• Comptes Rendiis, Iili. 875. See Note by Regnault, Hiid.. 87*
' Barthelot, Mtcanioue Chimique. U 158. _
XXIIL — i7
290
THERMOMETER
describ-xi by Welsh {Proe. R S., vi 181) and Whipple {PhU
Afag., [5], xxi.. 1886, p. 27).
The reading of thermometers is greatly facilitated by the process
of enamelling the back, and still more by that of entirely surround
ing the instrument wiih enamel except over a narrow strip thitiugh
which the mercury is seen * The enamel must not be allowed to
encroach on the bulb, for that would endanger the homogeneity
and strength of the glass
Thermometers Employed por Special Vvrposzs. ^Physical
and Chmical W(/rt. — For all purposes of minutt: accuracy where
thermometers are applioj^ble stJinaard instruments must be em
ployed. They must be used in one position only The stem is
usually engraved with an arbitrary scjile of equal divisions, the
total range not exceeding 15° C, and reailings are made by a
cathecometer at some distance. The use of an intermediate bulb,
first recommended by Person, enables the fixed points to be
observed on instruments of very short range Results of great
5CCuracy^ certninly to 0° 005 C, may be obtained in this way for
comparative purposes if sufficient care be taken ; but the greater
the sensitiveness of a thermometer the more difficult ia it to obtain
ft scries of oncordant readings (Heat, vol xi p. 562). Pickering*
uses thertnometers of extreme sensitiveness, in which, by conveying
tiie excess of mercury ioto an expansion at the top of the stem, he
seeores that the same part of the short arbitrary scale is used for
every temperature that has to be measured. In physical researches
thermoelectric junctions are more often used tiian thermometers
for measuring very small differences of temperature.
For ordinary work in a chemical or physical laboratory thermo*
meters are used which can be read easily to one-tenth of a degree
ccntiCTade, and have a range from 0° to 100*. or in some cases to
850* 0. They are always either engraved on the stem or graduated
OS 831 Lncladed scale (see Hrat, figs. 4. 5), and are not mounted on
frames of any kind. It is not necessary to calibrate such thermo-
meters ; bnt they should be compared with a standard at several
temperatures and frequently verified in melting ico and steam of
boiling water.
Zincke'a chemical thermometer for high temperature has a scale
commencing at 100" C. In Geissler's nitrogen thermometer the
range is extended by raising the boiling point of the included mer
cury, the upper part of the tube being filled with rarefied nitrogen
Meteorological. — The thermometer u-as early ap])licd to the study
of ditferences of climate, and this is still one of Us most im|>ortant
uses. The wet and dry bulb thermometers placed in the shade
give the temperature and humidity (see H\or.OMKTRY) of the
•arrounding air, but "shade" and "surrounding air" require to
be defined. Shade is intended to exclude rain and prevent all
radiation ; and the surrounding air is that of the atmuspnere in the
neighbourhood of the thermometer outside any shelter that may be
used. The simplest way of observing is to hang up a thermometer
in the shadow of some rather distant object and leave it until it
acquires a steady temperature ; but this method has been found
impracticable and does not give very exact results.
In different countries diflerent patterns of thermometer "sheUer
we employed and exposure takes place at a different height above
the ground. Results so obtained cannot be critically compared,
and the relative mean temperatures of the atmosphere in different
countries are only known to within one or two degrees. The
Stevenson double-louvred screen (see vol. xvi. p. 115), a box open
below, provided with a solid roof, is used at all meteorological
stations in Great Britain. It is placed 4 feet from the ground,
and painted white outside and inside. The results derived from
its use are comparable, because the conditions in which it is em-
ployed are the same, but the general introduction of a double roof
would greatly add to its efficiency. Exposure outside windows or
in wall boxes is the rule in Austria. In France the Heuou screen
ia largely used i it is a flat roof one square xth-xtq in extent, and
double; tlie thermometers are hung under it two metres from the
ground. A similar roof, but of much larijer size, is employed in
Australia, in combination with a metal tliermometcr-box A
metallic box, constructed of double louvres with an air-space
between, finds favour in Spain. In Russia and Switzerland Wild's
shelter is extensively employed. The thermometers are enclosed
in a case composed of two or three concentric zinc cylinders per-
forated to admit air, and placed U feet above the ground. They
ere protected by a large shelter of wood, the south wall and roof of
which aro double and made of solid boards, between which air
circulates ; the east and wtst sides are louvred, and the north side
entirely open. A similar shelter is u.sed in Canada, to cover a box
of single shcct-iroa louvres in which the tliermometers are placed
4i feet from the ground. Various systems of exposure were
authorized in the United States until 1885 It was thru decided,
a3 the result of exi>criraents* carried on for nearly two ve.irs, that
a uniform pattern of shelter be adopted by the Signal S<'r\ice It
* Wlilpplo.BriY. Atioc. Rrporti, 1885. p 937.
* Phit. *a(7..(J'>l. xxl. isafi. p. 3.11; xxlli.. 18«7, vp. -101. 400.
•Ha !liiz«n, "Tlitrmuiuatr HxuteUic,^' /'re/. y'uj>c/j b/ ^iu/toi <Servuc. Nu
»»U1., 1685. *-->/» .
is a single-louvrcd wonden box, 3 feet 6 inches long, 3 feet wide
and high, with a movable bottom and a double roof. The louvres
are provided with an upright flango on their inner side, tlcsigncd
to koep rain from the thermometers. The bottom of the shelter is
to be fixed eithir 9 feet above a roof or 16 feet above grass.
All these screens are confessedly imperfect, although most of
them are well adjptcd for the climates In which they ure used.
Numerous com|iarisons of different screens with each other have
been made,* but in some cases sufficient precautions in the way of
using instruments precisely similar and only dissimilarly situated
have not been observed, and the results are uncertain. A critical
comparisun of the leading forms of thermometer shelter in use 13
still a desideratum
The sling lucrniometer* {tfunnomilre frondc), a small thermo-
meter whirled in the air ut the cud of a string, is often used as
a standard, and giv^s n-orc correct readings than inoil closed
screens. All open screens are untrustworthy. Aitken* has
devised a series of thermometer boxes on a new principle, radiation
being taken advantage of to produce a constant di-nnght over the
thermometer bulbs by the use of
a long blackened chimney. These
give admirable results. Very small
and bright objects are little atfected
by radiation : hence thermometers
with bulbs of small diameter and
coated with a bright deposit of
gold or silver have been used with-
out screens. The air temperature
h:is also been calculated by means
of a formula froui the n*adings of
two similar thcrmometers.the bulbs
of which are unequally affected by
radiation. Some form of sling tber-
niometer should always be used for
oliservations at sea; the Board of
Trade screen generally employed is
thoroughly objectionable, and can
only give moderately gooii results
by the exercise of great precautions
on the part of the observer^
As a rule, thermometers for
meteorological purposes are made
wnth spherical bulbs, although
cylindrical reservoirs present cer-
tain advantages. To ensure per-
fect uniformity in registration, the
bulbs should all be as nearly as
possible of one size, constructed of
one kind of gla.ss, and the mount-
ing perfectly uniform. Better-class
instruments have the bulb clear of
the frame, and the stem attached '
to a slab of nietal, of porcelain, Fio 3.— Aitken'aThennomcteTScreeD
or of glass backed by wood; but for Mailmum Thennometer.
sometimes they are simply fixed to a boxwood scale. In all oases
they shoOld be graduated on the stem, and compared with a
standard, but in view of the nncertainty of the methods of ther-
mometer exposure great delicacy is undesirable.
The influence of height on thermometers for ascertaining the
temperature of the air lias been investigated with somewhat con-
flicting re.sults,^ tho disparity is at least partly due to the use of
dissimilar instruments.
Ju'yisicrmg Tliermometers. — Rutherford's maximum, invented
before 1790,* was au ordinary mercury thermometer placed horizon-
tally ; the column pushed before it a small steel index, which was
left at the highest |M)int rcaehed. It is little used now. The
maximum thermometers in common use for nietcorological pur-
poses are Negretti & Zambra's and Pliillips's. The former is a
modified ouillow thermometer It is made with a constriction in
tho tube near tho bulb, past which the niercnry easily cxi^nnd--^,
but cannot return when tho temperature falls, as tiic column
breaks at the narrowed point when the fluid in the bulb begins
to- contract riie thermometer acts horizontally, but EvcTctt
devised a modification which is hung bulb up|»crmost, and the
mercury, as it passes the constriction, falls down and stands as a
column iu the inverted tube The thermometer is set by swinging
* Oastcr. Quart Wenthfr ii^ port /or /S79{1882). Appendli 11.; Wild, Mitlheit.
tier Tiatftr/or.trfi Ctftllifh in tern, 18C0, 103; Marriott, Quart. J. Hov. Atrt.
.Soc., IK71I, V. I'l; . Slow. if.. l.^s:». vltl. '.>2S. Gill, ib., 138^ viil. 238; Mawltry, t&.,
l*i.s-1. X. 1 ; Ailken. JToe. li S £.. 1884. xll. CSI ; Dickson, it., 18S5. xMi. la;';
ITaicn. lof. fit.
^ lilt' first use nr th\% instrument Is osufilly staced to hnve been by Anji^o
(tBiivns iB-'iS, vili. p. iW). h'li Suussurc emjiloyeil it fur wet-bulb utifturvaUuiis,
ojiri flt.Qi)tli-&s Invented It (sic Voi/o'/rs dans les Alj-es. 17;ifi, iv. p. 267).
*/'r.^./i.S A. 1K.M. xllfCO; ISSO. xili. lay; 18S6, llil. ti32.
' Caltomc, Quart. J Rny Mfl &K., I88I. vU 10.
" II-uco. toe. cU.; Wild and Cunloni In Report o( Vienna Mctcoroloplral CoB'
fticiipc, ll>74; Symons. Frvc. li. S., 1W»3, xxxv. 310; Omon.t /'roc R. 3, &,
la&f^-^n. y Trant ti. S, £., Ul.. 17SH, p. 2^7.
•1
A PhlTlips's nmimnm, claimed »Iso by Walferdin. has a nor-
Sfhhl"^ 'i^f'J^^^V "^"".'"^ se,vir.ted from the rest by a minute
bobble of air. It is pbccd hori^onully, and, as timpcrature
^creases, the deUched porlion of mercury is pushed forward and
IS not withdrawn vaen the main column retreau toward the bulb
«D coohng. It IS set for a new ohservaUon by briDmn" it into a
l^'llfi}X'rTJ°,i '^I'P'-g i' sligl-lly By reducinslhe length
m.^.^M f^ "'«>'* of the stem this therniomeur may be
made suitable for nse in any position without altenng its register.
^t.^'?JJr^°7 maximum thermometer is a mSdificaiion of
that of Lord Charles Cavendish ■ and the tvpe of a number of
Bmilar lustniinents. t is set by filling the stem entirely
jnth mercury from a Uteral chamber at the top i6s 4)
The instrument is placed vertically, and as tetipcraturi
rises mercury overflows into the reservoir To be n^d
the thermometer is brooght back to its original tempera:
.T'f .r ^ L"T^' °l "^^Sree spaces left vacant at the
top of the tube shows the excess of maximum tempera-
ture above that at the time of setting
.l.Jt'"f"i''f''°D'"u'^r"^°°'^'*' '" "«' freouent cso is
that of John Kutherfor.l, invented in 1790. I' is a spirit
thermometer, preferably 611«1 with arnyl alcohol to reduce
nsk of distillation, in the column of which a small porce-
jam index v. included. The in.-trument is hung^on- n
E^k K^'.v" 'i* '^"Peratare falls, the index is dmwn ^
tock by the surface tension of the fluid When temperd- ^S- *
uILr^ ' ''"''i ''■°l^ P^' ""« '■"<>« "^i'v- "'•"■ng it at the
aZS\T:^^°,'^ ■ "^ 'i^'" '"'^"'^ ^ tnodification «1W the
fcSTT^. .t^^^" "' i**2 ■ " ^'^'^ vertically, the index being
^«ni,n, P I""; f "■ u'"' thermometer, and set by a lonf
S^r^fairii; ,1^ '° A^' "*?". -bich. when the instrument if
«S.^ L J ■"«f9"^"' minimum of Casella is an instrument of
S?il fh^ fy ^"'y- "''«'"='? duficult to make, and requir
ing careful handling in its • ■• is^un
oae. A side tube of wide
bore ac (fig. 5) is joined
to the stem of an ordi-
nary mercnrial thermo-
meter near the bulb. This
tube terminates in a small
chamber a*, cut olf bv a
THERMOMETER
n^ i
perpendicular glass diaphragm which is perforated by a hole of
greater diameter than the thermometer siem When set the
mercury in the stem indicates the actual temperature, and the
chamber is empty On the principle of Balfour Stewart s fluctua-
bon thermometer,' when the instrument is heated the mercury
remains stationnry in tlie stem but eiiands into the chamber J
When cooled, the mere urj' passes out of the chamber; when this is
mpty, the temperature has returned to that at which the inslru-
SfflnTfi"' ■■ l'>«^'-f^«, "traction of glass and mercury prevents
tte fluid leaving the duphragm 4. and all subsequent cbnttaction
I^.t/'f* f""" the stem The position ofTh^ memiry column
to the stem marks the minimum temperature since last setting
^^r/n^^T" f'"" ^^ '^"'"- '^' ''""' '""J ""J """-"fg all the
mercury to flow from the chamber ®
^S^?"""*!! "''*,''' "^""^ "■" ^'^'"^ temperature at any
required time, by a change of position produced by a clock were
employed by Blacknddcr' in 1S26 Ilis^rocess was complicated
«d uncertain ^egrctli i Zambra have' a simpler arTTuCTme^
^ , ?L^^ r"^.^"""^' °' ^''"' ■^""^'"g thermometeS (s^e
npnght by catches wl„ch are withdrawn in turn at definite internals
Zll w^ "•?' "^"S^""^"' regulated by a clock. Each inst™!
srenTu^rta'ijTSfi^j^r"" '"^ """^ "' '^-p^-^'- " ^^^
No thoroughly satisfactory self-registering maximum or minimum
thermometer has yet been produced. In all existing forms a^
ndica ions are liable to be dUturbcd by shaking wTiereT^Lhol
^ the fluid used. It ,s apt to volatilize aid arcumtilate at t"eTp o
Af tube so registering a much lower temperature than actuil°y
h^T:- ",'^«'^™<^ly difficult also to freJ alcohol themiometen
~nl^ ,1 '"^ ^'^"">' "^^ f™"" «""'i°" 1° 'h' fluid and
renders the instrument untrustworthy or even useless.
jMdmtim TliCTmor7Mcrs.—The intensity of solar radiation is
EI^Tk"^ "il "" Py"'''i''"•''«^ "hlch usuilly consists oaZiy
heated by the sun's rays and a thermometer to measure the nsTof
mX" ■''•. '" ■"^'^P™'"^ '*'''^'*°" i* measured by the™"
fl^J^fi'"'''^"'^'^ "■'"• blackened bulbs. Results ofThe
SSrsof'd!?;^"" ^.7" l-y <i'"'^^°' methods. As there is no
me^ns of determining the true measure of radi-ition, all that can
«™ L"^ '° '■^"^ ',''" instruments whose indications are tol^
compared constructed and exposed in the same way The usual
» VV«: «. B.. vul IM. , j.^ ^ 5 ^ ,jjj X. 3JT. «t,.
291
:rard::m'et':'r' orb "' ir'"'^'"? * ?"^" -rcir',:i miriomett
wh.Vh ,H^f t, ' ''/ ^Idering m platinum electrodes through
Tk,, ,K discharge can bo made in the interior, it 1^01 ^entFal
that the \*acuum be vprv i.*.rf^nt . *.«^„ l. is uot essentia]
a £lobo filled with H^^iirc' ""^ observers prefer to employ
.d'?-ri'%'"^ ^r„l^^S':„Thl?tTetlS I^TuH
^tV\ T}"^ "^ perfectly spherical enclosures, whTh m^t
ah* be of equal diameter The stem should be as s^l a, „„Sm„
in proportion to the bulb, and before bein» nsS frr ,^0!^'^ *
purposes all ^dia.ion theVmometershou I te1orpar°rv?i^h an'
arbitrary standard by daily exposure for severaTw?eks7„ sun h^n\
from ?,""""' -^d'ation thermometers, intended to measure ^ a ion
from the earth at night, are usually filled w,th alcohol a^murh
ngennity has been expended on increasing the r delLev jt
bulteare made very large relatively to the^bore, and c^^imct^
so as to expose a great surface, the reservoir be ng ofte^hdh^L
^ntrt:^^"- ^P»<"';^l'^P«=d, forked, or even lilce a ^3iron
.hp^ll^^'™™;^--^"^"™ introduced the use oFsSh
thermometers packed in non-conducting material for takinTth»
temperature of the soil at different depths. Symon's earlh thfr^^
1? bw.? l"r '^""."P'^ " " ^lo'-action^nstrum'e^t cied^n flt^™, d
'^"i^^riirer^^h'-e'i^^^rnrj;:^^^
round, fitted in deep bor?ngs if th^T^ik! are uSd" aTthTob«^r
tones of Greenwich and Edinburgh for investiratw .,r^k .
gerature. Those at present esublfshed at th?RfyarObTrvatorT
Edinburgh,' are the successors of a set fixed in the rock i7 183 7'
^^tiinfr^T^vrii- ""^i^^ pieced witTt\:rr i
that of the thermometer, nearly filled with th. =,1. « -/^u
hermetically sealed at the lower^end, is fixed teidi the tiie'r^"'
meter s..m The fluctuations it shows are duTso ely to 4^
art-ec ing the stem and not the bulb of the thermometer ^nd tW
are eliminated from the rea.lings of the latter ' ^
by taking account only of the difl-erence of
level of the fluid in the two tubes.
Beep-Sea Thermometers.— Ih^ earliest ob-
servations of warmth beneath the surface
were made by raising samples of water in a
valved box and noting the temperature when
It w.as brought on board. Saiissure, in addi-
tion to this used sluggish thermometers,
which he left immersed for several hours
before reading. His latest thermometer for
sea.work was filled with alcohol, and had a
biUb more than an inch in diameter, which
was imbedded in a mass of wax and encloseds
in « stout wooden ca'^ It attained the tem-
perature of Its surroundings very slowly pre-
served It for a long time, and gave, in his
hands, thoroughly trustworthy results On
the introduction of registering thermometers
these were used, but the unsuspected magni-
tude of the efl-ect of pressure at great depths
made the earlier records entirely misleading
A modification of Sixe's thermometer, pFo-
tected from pressure by the addition of an
out«r bulb partially filh-d wiih a liquid is
nowusu.nllyemployedondeep-seaexpeditions. — — -
1 hose used on the " Challenger." under the ^'o « -Miner-Cuella
name of Miller-Casella thermometere, were Thcmometer.
of the form shown in fig. 6 The tube is (Jshapcd, the bend
and part of each limb filled with mercury, the rest of th; Sbe the
bulb, and pin of the expansion on the other side with afcobol' A
steel index, held in its place by the pressure of a hair, is?mmersed
J Quart. J K. Uet. Sot , 1673. T. Hi ; lgS4 i a
• Signal Srrrire Pro/. Paptrt. No. Jiii.. lf*l. p 34
«7c«;."iV,T7°.' ""^ °'"'"^' "" *""' " "" i««»l'»e,«e BH,. ^«c
'Trani.R.'s. £.. 18S0, uli ,. 637.
292
THERMOMETER
in the S|tiiil MI each Iim^ abuve.the mercury, which, pushes one
or oliior bcfoic it as the temperature ia rising or falling, and
leaves thciii at points denoting* the htgheat and lowest tempera-
tures [lasstil tlii'ough Tae iuilex^ Sew set by a magnet. The
*'ChaIU-uger " thciniometcps. \vliicb were not graduated ou the
ttcnis. wore secured side by side with porcelain temperature scales
to vulcanite franius and placed in copper cases perforated to allow
a circulation of water Tait investigated the whole subject of pres-
sure cOMccltons after tlie return of the expL-dition, and found that
the high result obtained by a previous experimeriter was due
m.tinly to heat developed by compression of the vulcanite, which
affected the ihernionieter m the press, but would not do so at sea.
The correction whieii had to be applied was rather less than | of a
degree Fahr. [ter mile of depth.' These thermometers require to
be immcrseJ from twenty minutes to half an hour before they
acquire the teniperature of the water, they can only be read to
quaitei degrees Fahr , and they simply indicate the extreme teiu
peratures ilirough which they have passed. Bachanaa has greatly
improved the instrument by reducing the bore of the tube on tlm
minimum side, which is that most frequently med, thus giving
long degrees An arbitrary scale is engraved on the stem.* His
picrcury piezometer is affected by temperature and by pressure, and
enables the actual temperature at any known depth to bo found.
Aime in 1545^ invented a very'ingenious.airaugement of outflow
thermometers, which were inverted by a weight slipping down the
line, and registered as they were being drawn up. His instru-
ments were accurate, but very delicate and troublesome
to manage. Within the last few years Negretti and
Zambra have patented several forms of motlihed out-
flow thermometers. Tbe first instrument of the kind
was complicated and unmanageable, but that now
before the public is both simple and convcuicut. It
consists of a mercury thermometer ui*h a cylindrical
bulb and a stem AC (fig. 7)of\Wdcbore terminating
in a small pyriforra aneurism. The stem is coutra^ted
and contorted just above the bulb, and when the in*
slrunient is turned upside down the inercury coK.mn
breaks at this point and Hows down into the tube,
which is giaJuated in the inverted position. To pro-
tect it from pressure the thermometer is hermeti-
cally sealed in a strong glass tube, the portion of
which surrounding the bulb contains a quantity of
mercury secured by a ring of india-rubber cement.
When the thermometer is made to turn over at any
depth in water of any temperature, the record remains
nearly unaltered, and, until set for a new observa-
tion, enables the actual temperature at the instant
of reversal to be ascertained at any subsequent tiiuo
and in any other place. The detached column stand-
ing in the tube changes its length slightly by change
of temperature. A series of experiments with twelve
instruments has shown that for 60* F. change of tem-
perature there is a difference of one degree in the
reading of the inverted thermometer. Hence a cor-
rection must be a[iplied in all cases where the tem-
perature at which the thermometer is read differs more
than a few degrees from that at which it was inverted,
contrary to the opinion of the German observers.*
If a thermometer is inverted in water and read while
wet, ihe temperature by which it should be corrected
is obviously that given by the wet-bulb in air. Jn v,^'".! ~" ,
view of the greut range of temperature experienced in zambras
deep-sea work in the tropics, the size of the little Deep-Sea
overflow cell B, which prevents mercury from the bulb Thtrmo meter
from entering the tube must be considerably increased ^'°^^' *^"*'
before the thermometer can be used with safety for auch purposes.-
The Negretti and Zambra thermometer acquires the temperature
of its surroundings very rapidly (two or three minutes are usually
sufficient), it can be read easily to tenths of a degree Fahr.; and,
above all, it ascertains temperature at exact points of depth, and
has thus revealed layers uf remarkably varying tenij^wrature* which
could not have been detected by the other instruments in use.
The loaded wooden frame originally employed for reversing the
thermometer is unsati.^faetory, and Magnaghi's reversing gear
actuated by the revolution of a small propeller set in motion
by the water when tht* thermometer is drawn up briskly, is not to
be trusted in shallow water or vi{Jierc there are rapid currents.
Wlicn the pin is withdrawn the thermometer case turns over :ind
is clamped by a side-spring on the frame. Rung* adopted a
simpler and better though somewhat clumsy frame, in which the
thermometer wa^madc to turn by slipping a weight down the line.
' •■Challcv^n" y.irratiee. i) . App. I.. 1882.
* for a utii^iiU rtccout.t of decji acft thcrmotneteTB, see Buchanan, Proe. R. 3.
B . X \S7H. :7i „nil ■• Chal ' Reports, NarraUve, vol. i., 18tH, p. 84.
» ^nri CAim /*/ij/j . [.11, 1846. iv, 1,
• £r'/ebnitie tier Untcrsuchun^ens/nhrt der Drache. BerllQ, 1886, p. J.
» Mill Joar S<:ol Mel Soc. (."JI. IWC, No. UL p. 289,
« Ztoi Teknuke fortnmat Ttdskri/t. IBW
I
'■/ ■;
The United States Fish Commissioiv employ the thermometer itt
a fiamc adapted for use on a wire sounding line, and also actuated
by a messenger, but the thern.omcter is not damped on turning
over The Scottish marine station produced^ a modiiJcatioQ of
Magnaghi's frame, Iho propellei being replaced Ijy a forked lever
held down by a spnal spring and raised when the tlicrmoinetcr is
to be reversed by the impact of a Rung's messenger (hg 8) A
messenger placed on t' c line below, and hung by a loop to the
uppei gioove of |he thi rmometer, is let go when tho theimometer
turns and reverses another instmment lower douii. Instead of
being laslicd to the sounding line, the frame is retaiued by a ram*9
hoinspiial below and clamped by a small vice
at the upper end. Buchanan litis modified and
simphtied the frame, eombmiDg its mode of
attaehmeut to the line with tho Americaa
method of reversing •
Neumayer^ has attempted louse a photo-
graphic iherniogiaph for deep-sea work, the
light being supphed by aCeis^ler tube excited
by a small battel y Sicniens's electrical ther-'
mometei has also bcfn experimented with,''
but has hardly been broujiht to a practicable
state, and the saniu may be said for the use
of thermoelectric juuctiuns.
Hypsmnelcr — The boiiiug-point thermome
ter or hypsometer may be used to obtain an
independent measure of the pressure of the
atmosphere, and so to determine an altitude
or verify an ;ineroid barometer. It consists
of a very delicate mercury thermometer gradu-
ated only for 20 or 25 degrees Fahr. in the
neighbourhood of the boiling point of water
and divided on the stem into tenths. A
large aneurism on ihu tube a little above the
bulb should allow the freezing puint to be
verified frorn time to time on the [Kjrtion of
stem beneath it. The thermometer is hung
m a cylindrical tin vessel m which water is
boiled by a spirit lamp placed underneath.
The bulb must be raised considerably above
the level of the water, and the whole stem to
the top of the mercury column imiTicrsed in
the steam. After steam has been escaping
freely for some time the temperature is road,
and by reference to a table the barometric
pressure, and consequently the altitude, is
obtained.
Climcal Thermometers. — The first use to
which thermometers woro applied was the
study of the temperature of the blood in
fevers ; and the constancy of the temperature
of the healthy human body was for a century
considered sufficient to entitle it to the posi-
tion of a fixed point in graduating thermome*
ters. The increased importance now attached
to temperature in disease has led to the pro-
duction of many forms of clinical thermo-
meter. The large instruments intended to be
read in situ are now entirely superseded by
small maximum self-registering thermometers.
Graduation is carried to one-hfth of a degree,
and the usual range is about 25 degrees Fahr.,
—from SS^or 90°toll0*or 115". Olive-shaped
bulbs have been used, but a cylindrical form ia most common.'
There should be an arrangement like that suggested for hypso-
meters to enable the freezing point to be verified. Casella's thermo-
meter on Phillips's system has a small expansion on the stem,
followed by a contraction, to prevent the index fullowuig the rest
of the mercury into the bulb when the instrument is not iu use.
The " half-minute thermometer" is quick in action ; it has a bulb
of very small diameter and an extremely tine bore, the mercury
thread being rendered visible by Hicks's arrangement of a lens-
fronted stem. Iinmisch's avitreous thermometer is recommended
for clinical use on account of its small size, convenient shape, and
non liability to get out of order.
Theriaviofters for Technical Purposes. — These are made in an'
infinite variety of forms, adapted to the various processes of manu- 1
facture and industry. The scale is often dispensed with in these i
instruments, a movable pointer being fixed at the ^loint at which
the mercury is to be kept. Air or steam thermometers (see Pvno-
METtit) are inpidly superseding mercury instruments for all tern-
peraturcs above the boiling point of water. Thu cheap OormaD
paper-scalo thermometers arc largely used, fitted in woodeu casus,
f Jieport. 1882
8 Mill. /'rcH R S. £., X\U 1884.^28.
» ?:aiurr, VIII 195.
» *■ Cl-^ta^ger" Jitportt^ Narrative. 1884. I. p. 9k
Fig. 8.— Scot.
tl8b Frame for
Det-p-SciiThor^
moraeter Mo
Bengerdcacond-
liiK to ruvei-se
tlio lastrumenb
T H E — T H E
293
u dairy thermometers, and a larger size for brewing purposes.
Alarm thermomstors are often employed, in wliich electric contact
is made and a bell rung wheu'the tcniiierature CNceeds or falls
short of a certain limit Thermostats of various forms are made
use of, ia which a thermometer, by the' position of the mercury in
the stem, regulates the gas-supply of a burner and thus the heat
of an enclosure.
Metallic ThermonuU-rs. — Thermometers depending on change in
kngth or form of composite metal bars, such as Crighton's zinc-iron
bar and Breguct's silvcrgold-platmum spiral (see l'VROMETElt),aio
converted into registering iustrumeuts by the addition of two
light poiuters pushed forwaiil by the index needle as it travels
round the graduated arc to either side and left at then extreme
points Jiirpensen in 1841 constructed a chronometer, the balance
wheel of which was arranged so as to exaggerate the efiecls of
change of temperature and thus to alTect the rale It furnished a
very close approximation to the mean temperature between the
intervals of rating, and was approvcil by Arago for use in o"bsorva-
tions. Hermann and Pfister's nietallic thermometer ' is probably
the best adapted for meteorological purposes, and has given
catisfactory results at the Zurich observatory. It is a flat spiral of
btass and steel, which unrolls and coils up according to changes of
lemperaturg, moving an index on a divided hori/ontal circle niid
narking the maximum and minimum by light pointers. In order
to secure regular results, the instrument must be aonealed by
heating for some time in boiling linseed oil.
Several instruments known popularly as metallic thermometers
depend on a diSereiit principle, that of the change oC form in a
thin metallic enclosure containing liquid.
Immisch's avitreous thermom,eter (fig. 9) is
an exaniple A minute Boui'don's tube is
fixed at one end, and the other bears on the
short arm of a lever, the long arm of which
act3 by a rack on the pinion forming the
axis of the |>ointer. It is only one inch in
diameter and extremely accurate.
Thermo'jraphs. — The first form of thermo-
graph, due to Wheatstone, was an electrical
apparatus. It has recently been improved
by Van Rysselberghe, in whose hands it has
assumed the following form The thermome-
ter is of rather wide bore and open above. At
intervals of quarter of an hour a wire is moved
gradually down the tube by a clock until
It touches the mercury; an electric circuit AviirMusTiiermometer
it thus completed, and causes an indentation by a diamond point
which moves in the same way as the wire down a rotating cylinder
covered with thin sheet coppei or zinc. Tlie metal sheet is renewed
at each revolution of the cylinder, and it is sufficient to join the
indented points with a graver to have a plate from which any
number of copies of the record may be printed. Cripp's thermo-
graph records hourly on a revohing cylinder. It consists essen-
tially of a mercury thermometer coiled into a flat spiral and sus-
pended on a horizontal axis. Any change of temperature displaces
the centre of gravity of the system, and the instrument rotates
through an arc, moving a pencil as it does So. A ^perfectly con-
tinuous record is produced by the photographic thermograph. Wet
and dry bulb thermometers are so arranged that a beam of light
passes through an air-speck, which separ.^tes part of the mercury
thread, or through the vacant part of the tube, and falls on a
rotating cylinder covered with photographic paper on \,hich it
traces the curve of temperature fluctuation This apparatus is
probably the most perfect of its kind In Bowketts thermograph
the change of form of a curved tube containing oil moves a pencil
radially over a card turned horizontally by a clock . The resulting
earre is referable to polar instead of rectangular coordinates ; the
radius measures temperature, the angle time. Richard's thermo.
graph is also actuated by means of a sealed metallic capsule cott-
tainiog fluid. It draws a continuous curve in ink on a revolving
drum on which one sheet lasts for seven days. This instrument
is largely employed in observatories to check eye observations, and
is peculiarly adapted for use in positions to wliich access can only
be had occasionally. It is m.adc in many forms, one of which is
apccially adapted for marine work, the sealed capsule being rolled
into tiie form of a cyLnder and exposed to the water on both
•nrfaces. (H. R M.)
THfiROIGNE DE MfiRICOURT, Anne Joseph
(1762-1817/, was born at Marcourt (from a corruption
of which name she took her tjsual designation), a small
town in Luxembourg, on the banks of theOurtbe, on 13tb
August 1762. She was the daughter of a well -to do
farmer, Peter Th^roigne. She appears to have been well
educated,, having been brought up in the convent of
Flo. 9. — Immisch's
' Repert. JUr MeUorologie, L pt i. p. 7.
Robermont ; she was quick witted, strikingly handsome
in appearance, and intensely [lassionate in temper ; and
she had a strong and almost volcanic power of eloquence,
which she used with great effect U|jon the mobs of Paris
during that short space of her life (1780-93) which alone
is of historical interest. The story of her having beeo
betrayed by a young seigneur, and having in consequence
devoted her life to avenge her wrongs upon aristocrats, a
story which is told by Lamartine and others, is unfounded,
the truth being that she loft her home on account of a
quarrel with her stepmother She went to Paris, "and, on
the outbreak of the Revolution, she was surrounded by. a
coterie of well-known men, chief of whom were Petion and
Desmoulins. She belonged to their party to the last, —
became in fact the " Fury of the Gironde." On 14th July
1789 she came prominently into notice at the fall of
the Bastille, and for about four years thereafter she was
seen in many of the stormiest scenes of the Revolution,
being known as " la belle Liiigoise," and singularly attired
in a riding habit, a plume in her hat, pistols in her belt,
and a sword dangling by her side Early in October she
took a leading part in the march to Versailles, and the
return journey with the king and queen to the capital.
No horror appalled her, and the violence of her language
and her power with the mob were no less remarkable thao
the influence which she was able, by combining cajolery,
threats, and money, successfully to e.\ert on the royalist
soldiers, so winning them over to the Revolution Being
justly accused of dangerous conduct, her arrest was ordered
in the following year (1790), and she left Pans for Mar-
court, whence after a short stay she proceeded to Liege, io
which town she was seized by warrant of the Austrian
Government, and conveyed first to Tyrol and thereafter
to Vienna, accused of havmg been engaged in a plot
against the life of the queen of France. After an inter-
view, however, with Leopold II., she was released , and she
returned to Paris, crowned of course with fresh laurels
because of her captivity, and resumed her influence. In
the clubs of Paris her voice was often heard, and even in
the National Assembly she would violently interrupt the
expression of any moderatist views. She commanded in
person the 3d corps of the so-called army of the fau-
bourgs on 20th June 1792, and again won the gratitude
of the people. She shares a heavy responsibility for her
connexion with the riots of the 10th of August. A cer-
tain contributor to Desmoulins's journal, the Acts of the
Apostles, Suleau by name, earned her savage hatred by
associating her name, lor the sake of the play upon the
word, with a deputy named Populus, whom she had never
seen On the 10th of August, just after she had watched
approvingly the massacre of certain of the national guard
in the Place Vendome, Suleau was pointed out to her.
She sprang at.-him, dragged him among the infuriated
mob, and he was stabbed to death in an instant But the
time came when her parly was in peril at the hands of one
more extreme, and she now wildly urged the mob to inorc
moderate courses Then the furies of the " Mountain "
seized the fury of the Gironde, and they stripped her
naked, and flogged her in the public garden of the
Tuileries. The infamous affront drove her mad. She
was removed to a private house, thence in 1800 to Ls
Salpetriere for a month, and thence to a place of confina
ment called the Petites Maisons, where she remained — C
raving maniac — 11111807 She was then again removed
to La Salpetriere, wliere she died, never having recovered
her reason, on 9th June 1817
THESEUS, the great hero of Attic legend,' son ot
- Ail the passages in the Iliad and Oitysseij in which his nanie oi
allusions ta his legend occur are regarded with more or lefts probft
bility as spurious.
294
THESEUS
JJgeus, king of Atltcns, and jTIthra, daughter of Pittheus,
king of Trffizen. Thus through his father he was descended
from Erechtheus and the autochthones of Attica; through
his mother he came of the Asjatic house of Pelops; ^geus,
being childless, went to Delphi to consult the god, who
gave him an ambiguous answer He went to Troezen,
and told the oracle to Pittheus, who, seeing its bearing,
contrived that ^geus should have intercourse with bis
dangbter yEthra. ^geus then departed to Athens, and
ill due time yEthra, who remained at Troezen, brought
forth Theseus. It was given out that the child's father
was Poseidon, the great god of Tioezen, and in after ages
the TroEzenians pointed to the Holy Isle as the place where
Poseidon and /Ethra met, and where jEthra raised a
temple to Athene Apaturia, at which Troezenian maids
dedicated their girdles before marriage. For his tutor
and guardian young Theseus had one Cannidas, to whom,
down to Plutarch's time, the Athenians were wont to
eacrifice a black ram on the eve of the festival of Theseus.
On passing out of boyhood, Theseus, in accordance with
custom, went to Delphi, and there cut off his front hair.
iEgeus had deposited his sword and boots under a heavy
rock, telling jEthra that, if she gave birth to a son who,
on attaining manhood, should be able to lift the rock and
remove the sword and boots, she was to send him with
all secrecy to his father at Athens. Theseus now lifted
the rock, removed the sword and boots, and set out for
Athens. He encountered many adventures on the way.
First he met Periphetes, surnamed Corynetes (Clubman).
Him Theseus slew, and carried off his club. At the
isthmus of Corinth dwelt Sims, called the Pine-Bender,
because he killed his victims by fastening them to the
top of a pine-tree (or two pine-trees), which he had
bent down and then suffered to fly up 'Theseus hoisted
the Pine-Bender on his own pine tree Now, the deceased
Pine-Bender had a pretty daughter, who ran and hid
herself in a thicket where asparagus grew plentifully ;
and, when Theseus came to look for her, she prayed to
the asparagus, and promised that if it would hide her she
would never injure asparagus any more Theseus wiled
her from the thicket, and from their union sprang the
family of the loxids, who worshipped asparagus Next
Theseus despatched the Crommyonian sow (or boar), a
dreadful monster. Then he flung over the cliff the wicked
Sciron, who, while his guests were perforce washing his
feet, used to kick them over into the sea In Eleusis
Theseus wrestled with and killed Cercyon. A little
farther on he slew Procrustes, who had only one bed for
all comers if his guest was too short for the bed, he
stretched him out ; if he was too long, he cut him down
to the requisite length At the Cephissus Theseus was met
by the Phytalid family, who purified him from the taint
of bloodshed As he passed through the streets of Athens,
his curls and long garment reaching to his ankles drew on
him the derision of some masons, who were putting on the
roof of the new temple of Apollo Delphinms "Wty,"
they asked, " was such a pretty girl out alone ( " In reply
Theseus took the bullocks out of their cart and flung them
higher than the roof of the temple He found his father
married to Medea, who had Hcd from Corinth Being a witch,
she knew Theseus before his father did, and tried to persuade
yEgeus to poison his son , but yEgeus at last recognized him
by his sword, and took him to his arms. Theseus was
now declared heir to the throne, and the Pallantids, who
had hoped to succeed to the childless king, conspired against
Theseus, but he crushed the conspiracy He then attacked
the flame-spitting bull of Marathon and brought it alive
to Athens, where he sacrificed it to Apollo Delphinius.
Now comes the adventure of the Cretan Minotaur (see
Minos), whom Theseus slew by the aid of Akiadne {q.v. ).
Wh'ih Theseus was in Crete, Minos, wishing to see whether
Theseus was really the son of Poseidon, flung his ring
into the sea. Theseus dived and brought it up, together
with a golden crown, the gift of Amphitrite. On the
return voyage the ship touched at Naxos, and there
Theseus abandoned Ariadne. He landed also at Delos,
and there he and the youths danced the crane dance, the
complicated movements of which were meant to imitate
the windings of the Labyrinth.' In historical times this
dance was still danced by the Delians round the horned
altar — an altar entirely composed of left-sided horns.
Theseus had promised JEgeus that, if he returned success-
ful, the black sail with which the fatal ship always put to
sea - should be exchanged for a white one. But he forgot
his promise ; and, when from the Acropolis at Athens
jEgeus descried the black sail out at sea, he flung himself
from the rock, and died. Hence at the festival which
commemorated the return of Theseus there was always
weeping and lamentation. Theseus now carried out a
political revolution in Atticaby abolishing the semi-inde-
pendent powers of the separate townships and concen-
trating those powers at Athens, and he instituted the
festival of the Panathenasa,^ as a symbol of the unity of
the Attic race. Further, according to a democratic tradi-
tion, he abolished the monarchy, and substituted in its
place a popular government ; but, to obviate the evils of
a pure democracy, he instituted the three classes or castes
of the eupatrids (nobles), geomori (husbandmen), and
demiurgi (artisans). He also minted coins bearing the
figure of an ox He extended the territory of Attica as
far as the isthmus of Cormth.
Ho was the first to celebrate in their full pomp the
Isthmian games m hon< ur of Poseidon ; for the games
previously instituted by Hercules in honour of Melicertes
had been celebrated by night, and had partaken of the
nature of mysteries rather than of a festival. Of Theseus's
adventures with the Amazons there were different accounts.
According to some, he sailed with Hercules to the Euxine,
and there won the Amazon Antiope as the meed of
valour ; others said that he sailed on his own account, and
captured Antiope by stratagem. Thereafter the Amazojis
attacked Athens. Antiope fell fighting on the side of
Theseus, and her tomb was pointed out on the south side
of the acropolis. By Antiope Theseus had a son, Hippo-
lytus. On the death of Antiope, Theseus married Phajdra.
She fell in love with her stepson Hippolytus, who, resist-
ing her advances, was accused by her to Theseus of having
attempted her virtue. Theseus in a rage imprecated on
his son the wrath of Poseidon. His prayer was answered :
as Hippolytus was driving beside the sea, a bull issuing
from the waves terrified his horses, and he was thrown
and killed This tragi'c story is the subject of one of
the extant plays of Eurip des.
The famous friendship between Theseus and Pirithous,
■king of the Lapiths, originated thus. Hearing of the
' The Ostiaks of Siberia liuve au elaborate crane dance, in which
the dancers are dressed up wilh skins and the heads ol cranea
( I'allas, Jieise durch verschuidene Provinzen des russisclien Reichs, iiL
CI)
= So, too, the ship that sailed annually from Thcssaly to Troy
Willi otTerings to tlie shade of Achilles put to sea with saljle sails
(Philostiatus, Ilerinca. )tx 20) The ship Hull was to bling Iscult
to the mortally wounded Tiistvam was to hoist a white sail if she was
on board, a bhack sail if she was not. The black sails recur in the
modern Greek version ol the tale of Theseu.s. Compare Asialide
Kescarclus, ix 97
" Besides the PaDathenia. Theseus is said fo have Instituted the
festival ot the Synoikta or Metotkia Warhsniuth ingeniously sup-
poses that the latter festival coinmenioralcd the local union m a single
city of the separate settlements on tne Acropolis and its immediate
neighbourhood, while the Paiialbena-'a commemorated the political
union of the whole of Attica (C. Warbbniiitb, 1>U Sladt Athai m
AiU'Mium, p. iiiisq.).
T H E — T H E
295
Stiength and courage of Theseus. Pirithous desired to put
them to the test Accordingly he drove away from Marathon
Bome cows which belonped to Theseus The latter pursued,
but, when he came up with the robber, the two heroes were
so GUed with admiration of each other that they swore
brotherhood. At the marriageof Pirithous to Hippodamia
(or Deidamia) a 6ght broke out between the Lapiths and
Centaurs, in which the Lapiths, assisted by Theseus, were
victorious, and drove the Centaurs out of the country.
Theseus and Pirithous now carried off Helen from Sparta,
and when they drew lots for her she fell to the lot of
Theseus, who took her to Aphidnse, and left her in
charge of his mother jEthra and his friend Aphidnus.
He now descended to the lower world with Pirithous, to
help his friend to carry off Proserpine. But the two were
caught, and conBned in Hades till Hercules came and
released Theseus. Meantime Castor and Pollux had
captured Aphidnoe, and carried off their sister Helen and
.^thra When Theseus returned to Athens, he found that
a sedition had been stirred up by Menestheus, a descendant
of Erechtheus, one of the old kings of Athens. Failing to
quell the outbreak, Theseus in despair sent his children to
Eubcea. and, after solemnly cursing the Athenians, sailed
away to the island of Scyrus, where he had ancestral
estates. But Lycomedes, king of Scyrus, took him up to
a high place, and cast him into the sea, that be died.
Others said that he fell of himself over the cliff as he was
taking his evening walk Menestheus reigned at Athens,
but, when he died before Troy, the sons of Theseus recovered
the kingdom Long afterwards, at the battle of Marathon
(490 B.C.), many of the Athenians thought they saw the
phantom of Theseus, in full armour, charging at their head
against the Persians When the Persian war was over,
the Delphic oracle bade the Athenians fetch the bones of
Theseus from Scyrus, and lay them in Attic earth. It fell
to Cimon's lot in 469 B.C. to discover the hero's grave at
Scyrus, and bring back hb bones to Athens They were
deposited in the heart of Athens, and henceforth escaped
slaves and all persons in peril sought and found sanctuary-
at the grave of him who in his life had been a champion
of the oppressed. His chief festival was on the 8th of
the month Pyanepsion (October 21st), but the 8th day
of every month was also sacred to him.
Whatever we may think of the historical reality of Theseus, his
legend seems to contain recollections of historical events, e.g., the
avvoiietands, whether by this we understand the political central-
ization of Attica at Athens or a local union of previously separate
settlements on the site of Athens The birth of Theseus at
Trffizen points to the immigration of an Ionian family or tribe
from the south With this agrees the legend of tjie contest
between Athene and Poseidon for supremacy on the acropolis of
Athens, for Theseus is intimately connected uitli Poseidon, the
great Ionian god ^Egeus, the father of Theseus, has been iden-
tified by some modern scholars with Poi-eidon.
The Athenian festival in Octobei, popularly supposed to com-
memorate the return of Theseus from Crete, is interesting, as
some of its features are identical with those of harvest-festivals
still observed in the north of Europe Thus the eircsioizt, a
branch of olive wreathed with wool ana decked with fruits, bread,
tc, which was carried in procession and hung over the door of the
house, where it was kept for a year, is the E-nUinnai (Hw'vest may)
of Germany '
The well-preserved Doric temple to the north of the acrojiolis at
Athens, commonly known as the Theseum, was long su|>po5eil to
be the sanctuary in which the bones of Thescus reposed. But
archxologists are now much dividcil on this question It is agreed,
however, that the temple isofthe 5th century i;.c., and that thedatc
of its construction cannot differ widely froni'that of the Parthenon.'
There were several (according to Philochorus, four) temples or
shrines of Theseus at Alliens Milchhofer thinks he has found
one of them in the neighbourhood of Pira-us '
• Sec W Jlannhanlt, Antike Wold- xind F'MKtdU, p. 212 sq.
• For the literature on the subject, see .Niilcldrnfcr, in Ilaunicister's
Denhndlir lUs classischen AtUrUiums, i. p 170 j
' See ETlanUemder Text to the Karlm vm A Utka (BerliD, 18S1 ), i.
1>. 37 str
Our chief authority for the legend of TheMu la th« tifo by FlotMrcti, vhlch
is a compiKilion from earlier writers G Gilbert, who has inrcstiKatefl tlie
sources fioin which Pliiiarrh tlrew for his life of Theseus, b«-ltcTC3 thiit his chief
aiilhnnty was the AttMt of Ister, anj that Isur maioly followed f tulucljoni*.
bee /'Ai.Vo^s, xxxiii., 1874, p. 46 tq.
Thete Is a modern Greek fol!(-tale whIc.^ presenres some features i.f the kftefid
of Theseus and U>e Minotaur, but for the Minotaur has t.een subslituieil a seveis-
he.id'.'d snaXe See Bernard Schmidt, OruchiicJa Mdfvcfun, Sageti, unj VoUm-
luder, p. lis 15 (J G. fR.)
THESMOPHORIA, an ancient Greek festival, cele-
brated by women only in honour of Demeter ©ec/toi^dpos-
At Athens, AMera, and perhaps Sparta, it lasted three
days At Athens the festival took place on the Hth,
12th, and 13th of the month Pyanepsion (24th, 25th,
and 26th October), the first day being called Anodos
(ascent), or, according to others, Kathodos (descent), the
stcond Nesteia (fast), and the third Kailigeneia (fair-
born) * If to these days we add the Thesniophoria, which
were celebrated on the 1 0th at Halimus, a township "on
the coast near Athens, the festival lasted four days ' If
further we add the festival of the Stenia, which took place
on the 9th, the whole festival lasted five days '^ The
Stenia are said by Photius to have celebrated the return
of Demeter from the lower world (Anodos), and the women
railed at each other by night.' The Thcsmophoria at
Halimus seem to have included dances on the beach.*
The great feature of the ne.'it day (the Anodos) is gene-
rally assumed to have been a procession from Halimus to
Athens, but this assumption seems to rest enluely on an
interpretation of the name Anodos, and it loses all pro-
bability when we observe that the day was by others called
Kathodos.' Probably both names referred to the descent
of Demeter or Proserpine to the nether world, and ber
ascent from it '" The next day, Nesteia, was a day of
sorrow, the women sitting on the ground and fasting."
As to what took place on the Kailigeneia we have no
information Nor can we define the time or nature of the
secret ceremony called the " pursuit," or the " Chalcidian
pursuit," and the sacrifice called the " penalty."'-
During the Thesmophoria (and for nine days previously,
if Ovid, Met., x 434, is right, and refers to the Thesmo-
phoria) the women abstained from intercourse with their
* Schoi on Aristoph., Thesmojihoriatuss, SO and 565 ; Diog. Laer.,
ii. 43; Hesychius, 3.V. Tpiiififpoi (the reading here is uncert.'ii&)
and icoSot ; Alciphron, lii 39; Athenaius, 307/. Pltitaich ( 'Vf.
Veiiiosth., 30) states that the Nesttia took place on tlie 16tli of
Pyanepsion, but io this he stands alone
* Schol on Anstoph-, Thesjn., 80, Photius, /rx., s.v. Btafio^opt^r
Tiufpa.1 5' (where Nat>er should not have altered the US. readiug 5' into
i5')i Hesychius, s v. rpirrt Qfffuotf'oplttit^.
« Schol. on Ari=toph., Jhesm., 834
' Photius. Ltj:., s.v. ffriiyta; cf. Ajioltodonis, 1. 5, 1
* Plut., Solon, 8: for this pass.ige prohably refers to the Tliesmo-
phnria. tbeC.npeColiasmentionetl being near lialinius(see ErUii'Unitter
Text to the Karien von AUika. ii. 1 57.) The Thesmopboniini at
Hatimtts IS mentioned by Pausantas (i 31, 1).
^ Hesychius (s.v &i/<;Sos) and tlie Schol. on Arist.. Thcsm.. 585,
suppnse that the day was so called t>ecause the women ascended to
the Tliesmo]>liorium, which (acconliiig to the scholi.ist) sto<Kj on a
height But no ancient writer mentions a procession from fl.iliruus.
For the name Kathodos, .«ee Schol., toe. at.; Photins, Lex., sv.
Qtfffiotpop'iwif Tififpat 5' For the statcnieiit tlutt at one pan of the
festival (commonly assumed, by the writers who ac-ept the statement,
to be the Anoilos) the women camctl 011 tlieir lic.-ids tin " books of
the law," we have only the authurity of the scholinsi rtii The«cntus,
iv. 25. who displays his iKiiorance by describing the wiiincii .-j rirgitii
(see below), and saying that lliey went in procession lr> £leii»ls TI,o
statement may therefore be dismisse^l as an etyiiiol<<-.^ical hction.
Aristophanes, Ecctes., 222, is no evidence lor the book-ciirying
"> The B<e<>tian festival of Demi-lcr, whirh »vas helil at aWiut the
same time as the Athenian Theininplmria, and at which the f7ir(7«ra{.sc«
below) were o|»ened, is ilisttnctly ^l,1U■,l liy I'lnUtrcli {iJc h a Osir.,
69} to have been a mouniing for the ilcsccnt (Kathodos) of Pioseri-tiic-
" PliiL, Dcm., 30; I.I.. /« /J. el Os,r., O'J.
" Hesychius, s.v. 9tw>M^ ; .Simla-*, s.v. )faAri5urir Utaytia Hesy-
chius. a. V ^Tjui'a. For iliirlit and pursuit .i.s jiorts of retr.-ious '-ore-
monies, cf- Plutarch, tjita:xt. <'txc., 38; Id., (ji'xsi. Ifimt.. 53;
Id., lie he/. One., 15, .lEliaii. Xnl. An., xii 31: l'aii»niii.is. 1. 24, 4;
Id., viii. S3, 3; Diodonis, i. 91 ; Loherk, /ly/uojKAatiitu, p. 676: Kaf
qoardt. SiatUsvervaUuny, 2d eil,, iii. 323.
296
T H E S. M 0 P^.H O. R I A
husbands, and to fortify themselves' strewed thcirTbeds
with A^nits casfus and otlicr "plants.f The women of
Miletus strewed their beds with pine branchOs, and put
fir-cones in tiie sanctuaries of Dcmcter.' Wlicther un-
married women were admitted to the festival seems doubt-
ful ; in Lucian's timo it woultl appear that they wcre.-
The women of each dome (township) elected two married
women of tlieir number to preside over them at the
festival ; and every married man in the township who
posspssed property to the value of three talents had to
provide a feast for the women on behalf of Ids wife.^
During tlie festival the women seem to have been lodged
by twos in tents or huts, proltably erected within the sacred
precincts of tlie Thcsniophorium.'* They were not allowed
to cat the seeds of the pomegranate or to wear garlands
of flowers.^ Prisoners wore released at the festival,'^ and
during tlic Ncstcia the law-courts were closed and the
ieenatc <lid not meet." Aristophanes's play on the festival
sheds little light on the mode of its celebration.
At Thebes Thcsmophoria were celebrated in summer
on the acropolis (Cadmcia) ; at Eretria during the Tbes-
mophoria the women cooked their meat, not at fires, but
by the heat of the sun, nnd they did not invoke Kalli-
gcneia (which seems to mean that they did not celebrate
the last day of tho festival) ; at Syracuse, during the
festival, cakes called mylhi^ made of sesame and honey
in the shape of pudenda pndiebria^ were handed round.^
Agrigentum, Ephesus, and Drymo, in Phocis, had also
their Thesmophorix^
Tho ahovo was nearly nil tlnt'TvaVknown^ahout tho Thcsmo-
phoria down to 1S70. In tlirit year E. Kolulo published in the
Rhcinischcs Museum (N. F. 25, p. 548 sq.) a soholion on Lurian
(Dial.- Mcntr., ii. 1), whuli hv discovcrctl in the Vatican MS.
Palatiuns 73, and wliich furni.shc9 some curious details about the
Thcsmophoi ia. It also cxplaius two obscure and corrupt passaf^es
of Clemens Alexandriniis and P.iusanias, tho true meaning of which
had been divined by Lobeek {yhjlmph^mns, p. 823 $q.). The suh-
Btanro of the sclinhon is tins. When Prosi-rpinc was carried off
by PhUo, a swineht-rt^ calli^d Eubuluus was lienhnj,' )ns swine at
,thc spot, and his herd was cn-iulfi-d in the chasm down which
jPluto !»ad vanishetl with rrosiTpine. Accordin<;ly at the Tliesmo-
tphoria it was customary, in memory of Eubulcus, to fliuK pi'^s into
tho "fiiasms of Dcniotcr and Proserpine.' (Tiicse "chasms"
may liavu been natural caverns or perhaps vaults. The scholiast
sixjaks of thfin also as adijtn and vicgaTa.^*^) In these chasms or
adyta lliere were .<:npposed to he serpents, wliieh guarded the adyta
and consumed most cf tho Hesli of x\\q pigs lliat were thrown
* yEUan, i^'■{(^ /!«., ix. 2''»; Scho!. on T/wocr., iv. 25; Ilesychius,
s.v. KVfwpov, Pliny, N. II. , 24. 59; Dioscorides, i. 135 (134, ed.
Sprengel); Schol. on Nicandcr, Thcr., 70 so.; Galen, xi. 80S, cd.
iKuhu ; Stcpli. Uy?.., s.v. Mi'Atjtoj.
,* Lucian, I)i<tl. Mcrctr. , ii. 1. On the othcF hand, wo read in Strabo
(i. 3, 20) of virpins at Alponus ascending a toiver as spectators (Kara
bfSLv) of tho Thcsmophoria, which would snora to imply that they did
not participate in it.
2 Is;cus, I)c Cironis Jlered.^ 19; fd., Dc Pyrrhl Jlcrcd.^ 80.
* Arisloph.. Thesm., 624, C58, willi the Schol. ad il. As to tho
^custom of campinj; out at festivals, Plutarch {Qua:st. Cimviv., iv. 6, 2)
compares tho Jewisli Feast of Tabernacles with the Greek Dionysia;
'roin which we mny pprliaps infer that the worshippurc camped out at
the Dionysia. Cp. Giunilla, Ilisloirc dc I'Orowquc, i. p. 256 s^.
'^. Clem. Alex., Prohrp., 19.; Schnl. on Sophocles, (Ed. Cot., 681.
* * Man.elhnus on Herniogenes, in Rhefarnt Or&ci. cd. Walz, iv. 4G2 ;
^JOpate^, ibid., viii. C7.
>' Ahstoph., Thcsm..^ 80.' The word rpirri seems to mean the
Mesteia, as the Schol. ad I. takes il. That tho"'niddlft day" was
ihe Nestcia wo know from Athena;us, 307/.
8 Xonophon, Iltllrn.^ v. 2. 29: Piutarcb. Oi«w^'(7r,;31 CAtben-.
ani9, C47((.
* Pnlyx'nus, V. ], 1; Herod otus.'^vi. 16; Pansnnias.'x. 33, 12.v
*** MrC. T. Newton discovered in the sauctuary of Demeter and the
Infernal Deities at Cnidus a chamlier which may have been one of the
\negara reffrred to by the scholiast. It contained bones of pigs and
marble fij^nres of piRS. The cliatnber was not, however, origiDally
Kubterranean. See Newton's Discoveries at Ilahcarjiassus, <fec., it.
"p. 383 .t-;. : Id., Travels and Discnivncs in the Levant, ii. p. 180 sq,
^According to Porphyry (De Andro Nympharum, 6) the Infernal
■ Deities had T7M'(7(/ra, aa the Olympian had templea^ aud the sacrificial
■Jrtti of: the former corrupoDded to the altars of the latter. /
'inTjTlio decaycd^rcmains of tlic flesh were afterwards fetclied
by women calli-d "drawers" {anllctrini), who, after obscrviug
rules of ceremonial purity for three d.iys, desccitdi_'d into the
caverns, and, fiii^iitcnin;; awny llie serpents by clappinjj their
hands, broii;;lit up the ivmairisatul i>laci'il them on ilm altars."
Wlioevcr got a portion of this decayed llnsli and sowed it with the
seed in the groimd w.as supposeil thereby to secure a good crop.**
The rest of tlie bcholion is obscuri', aud pirhaps corrupt, but tho
following seems to be tho sense. Tho ceremony above dcseribed
was called the arretophoria, and was supposed to rxcrcisc the samo
quickening and fertilizing influence on uu-n as on Melds. ■ Kurlhcr,'
alung with the pigs, sacred cake** made of diuigli, in tlic shnjie of
scrjiLiils and of plialU, were cast uilo the caviins, to symbolize
the productivity of tho cai tli and of inan. Brandies r»i' pines
wern thrown in '^ for a similnr reason.
The custom deserdied in this important scholion is clearly th?
same as that referred to by Clemens Alexandriniis {Prolrcp , § 17)
nnd Paiisaiiias (ix. 8, 1). From the latter we learn that the pigs
were sucking pigs, and from the former (if wo adopt Lobcik's
emendation ft^ydpoi^ {i^i/ras lor tifyapi^ovm) that they were thrown
in alive. From I'ausanias we may further perhaps infer (though
tho passage is corrupt) that the remains of the pigs thrown down
in ono year were not fetched up till the samo time ne.xt year (cpJ
Pans., X. 32, 14). Tiie (piestion remains, At what point of tho
Tliesmoplinria ditl the ceremony described by tho sclioliast on
Lueian take place? Ilohdo thinks that it formed part of tho ccre-i
monies at II. dim us, his chief ground bting that Clemens (T^rofrfT?.,'
34) and Arnnbius (v. 28) mention piialli in connexion with tho
" mysteries at llalimus"; I)ut it is not certain that these mysteries
wero tho 'i'hesmophoria. 'l"lio legend of Euhnleus seems to show
tliat the ceremony commcmoraled tho descent of Proserpine to
tho nether winld; and, if wc are riglit in our interpretation of tho
name Kathodos as ai>plied to the first day of tlte Thcsmophoria
proper, the ceremony described would nattirally fall oii that day.j
Further, if our interpretation of I'ausanias is correct, the samo'
day must have witnessed tlio descent of the living pigs and the
ascent of the rotten poik of the ])revious year. Hence tlic day
might bo indillereully styled Kathodos or_Anodos (I'desccntV or
"ascent"); anil so in fact it was.
It is usual to interpret Thesmophorus ''lawgiver" and Thcsmo-^
phoria "the feast of the lawgiver. " Hut tlic Greek for *' lawgiver'*
is not Thesmophorus but Thesmothetes (or Nomothetes, when
nomos displacerH/ws7;fn5 in the sensi; of "law"). If wc comparo
such names of festivals as Oseliophoiia, Lanipadephoria, Hydro
jthoria, Seirophoria ('* the carryings of grapes, of torehes, of water,
of uml)rellas'") with the corresponding U.sehophoriis, Lampade-
pborns, Hydrophorus, also Thallo[ihorus and Kanephorns, we can
scarcely help concluding that Thcsmoplioria must originally have
meant in the literal aud physical sense the carrying of the tkcstiioi)
and Thesmophorus tlic person who so carried them; and, in vicwj
(if tho ceremony disclosed by the scholiast on Lucian (compared
witlifclhc analogous ceremony observe<t by the Arre]dioroi at
Athen';), weare strongly temjilcd to su|>posc that the women whom^
he calls Antlelriai may have beeit also known, at one time or other,]
as Thesmophorni, and that the thcsnioi were the sacra which they,
carried and deposited on the idtnr. ' The word would then be used
in its literal sense, "that wliieh is sot tlown." }Iow the namo
Thcsmoiiliorus should have been transferred to the goddess from'
her ministers is of course a didiculty, which is hardly disposed of
by pointing to the epithets Amallopborus ("shcaf-beariDg") and,
Melophofus ("apple-bearing"), which wero applied to men n^ well
.as to the goddess.
As to tiic origin of the Thcsmophoria,' Herodotus tii. 171) asserts'
that they were introduced into Greece from Egypt by thedaughtera
of Danaus; wliile, aecording to Plutarch (Frar/mcnts, p. 55, ed;
Dubncr), the feast was introduced into Athens by Orpheus tho
Odrysian. From these statements wc can only infer the similarity
of the Thcsmophoria to the Orphic rites and to tho Egyptian repre-
sentation of tlie sullerings of Osiris, in connexion with wliieh
Plutarch mentions them. The Thosmophoria would thus form onq
of that class of rites, widely spread in Western Asia and in Europe,
in which the main feature appears to be a lamentation for the annual
dec^y of vegetation or a rejoicing at its revival. This seems to
have be?n tlic root, e.g., of tho lamentations for Adonis and AttiSj
Sec W. Mannhardt, AntiLx U'ald- nnd Fdd-KuUc, p. 264 sq.
'.. '> Comp.iro the functions of the two Arrephoroi at Athens (Paus.,
i, 27, 3). ^ For serpents in connexion with Demeter, compare StraboJ
ix. 1,9. ' , _
^2 This, as Mr Andrew Lang h.as pointed out, resembles the Khond
custom of burying the flesh of the human victim in the fields to
fertilize them. The human victim was v;ith the Kbonds, like the pig
with the Greeks, a sacrifice to the Earth goddess. See W. Macphet;
son, MemoTials of Service in India, p. 129.
'^ Reading tn$d\\ov{Tt, with Rokde, for XafiQivOvmi' Compare th»
custom of Miletus mpra. The pine-tree played .in important part Id
the worship of Cybele. ^^Cp. Marquardt, SCaatsvenoaUunff, iii. 371.
i
T H E — T H E
297
f
On t)w TnesmopDona. soe Meorslas, Ormeia Feriala, p. ISl tq. ; L. Prelier,
Omrter Mr,<i Pentp\ome. p. S35 sq . Id.. On<cA, Myth.. [3], L 639 $g.\ Frltache't
ed. of ihe rfta'»icp!ioriaztux, p. 577 tq.\ Auc- Mommsen. Beortciogit^ p. 237
to. : RJmtuKDei ituinn. xiT. (18T0). p. M8 ; OoifUe Arc/uoiogi^ve, 18S0, p. 17 ;
Mr Andrew LMg, In ttniuaiin CcMurf, April 18S7. (J. G. FB.)
THESPIyE, an ancient Greek city of Boeotia. It
stood on level ground commanded by the low range of
hills which runs eastward from the foot of Mount Helicon
to Thebes. In the Persian invasion the Thespian con-
tingent of 700 men voluntarily stayed with the Spartans
at ThermopyL-e, and shared their fata For ita resistance
to the Persians, the city was burned by Xerxes (480 B.C.).
Nevertheless, in the next year 1800 Thespians shared in
the great victory of Platsea. At the battle of Delium
(424) the flower of the Thespians fell fighting against
Athens on the side of Thebes, and in the following year
the jealous Thebans availed themselves of the weakness
of their gallant confederate to pull down the walls of
Thespiae. The walls were restored by the Spartans under
Agesilaus in 378, but were again destroyed by the The-
bans, apparently before the battle of Leuctra (371).'
After the battle the Thespians, who had taken no part
in it, withdrew to a strong place, Ceressus, from which,
however, they were expelled by the Thebans. In 343
the city was not yet restored ; but it must have been sub-
sequently, for it is mentioned in the Roman wars.
In the 2d century Pausanias meotions that Thespi.'e contained
a theatre, a niarket-placa {agora), and sanctuaries of Aphrodite,
the Musfs, and Hercules. Love (Eros) was the deity most vener-
ated by the Thespians ; they possessed a very ancient image of
him in the sh.ipe of an unheivn block of stone. Tlie marble statue
of Love by Praxiteles was the great sight at Thespise, and drew
crowds to tlie place. It was carried off to Rome by Caligula, re-
stored by Claudins, and again carried off by Nero. There was
also a bronze statue of Love by Lysippus. From an inscription
we learn that one of the deities worsliipped was Demeter Achea,
the *' Slater Dolorosa." The Thespians also wor>hippe J the SIuscs,
and celebrated a festival in their honour in the sacred grove on
Mount Hehcon. Remains of what was probably the micient
citadel are still to be seen, consisting of an oblong or oval line of
fortification, solidly and regularly built. The adjacent ground to
the east and soath is covered with foundations, bearing witness to
the extent of the ancient city. The neighbouring village Ereiiio-
kastro, on higher ground, was thought by Ulrichs to be probably
the site of the ancient Ceressus. In 1882 there were discovered,
about 1200 yards cast of Eremokastro, on the road to Arkopodi
(Leactra), the remains of a polyandrion, including a colossal stone
lion. The tomb dates from the 5th century B.C., and is probably
that of the Thespians who fell at Plat^ea. for those who fell at
Thermopylae were buried on the field.
See Lenke, Travell in Northern Greece, 11. 479 17. ; Dodwell, Tour through
Oreece, 1. 253;* Bnr^ian, Oeogr. ron Griuhen!nud, 1. 237 sq.; Ulrich*. Reitm'u.
Forichungoi in O riechenland, ii. 84 fj. ; Mittheit. d. devlseh. archaoj. /nit. in
Athen, laT9, pp. 190 17 273 iq.; UfiaxriKa T155 iv 'Adnyiui dpvfuoAoyiicfls
ira^Ut, 18S2, pp. 64-7*. • r\ 7 n
THESSALONIANS, Epistles to the. Thessalonica,
now Saioxica {q.v.), was in the time of the Romans the
most important town of Macedonia. In consequence of
its advantageous situation, on a good harbour and on
the Via Egnatia, the great trade road which connected the
Adriatic with the Hellespont, the town had surpassed the
eld capital Pella, and had indeed become one of the chief
commercial centres of the ancient world. Since the Roman
conquest the seat of the Roman provincial government
had been here. Here, as in Corinth, the conditions were
favourable for the reception of Christianity. The popula-
tion was not purely Greek, but cosmopolitan, a mixture of
divers nationalities. Such a population is always more
susceptible to religious novelties for good and for evil
than one of old, firmly established national growth. The
apostle Paul experienced this to his great joy and satis-
faction here al.^o, as he for thfe first time set foot on the
' Xeno^ihon {l/ellen.; *i. 3 1 and S) and Diodoriis (xv 46) speak of
Thespiae i=. if it had been destroyed and in inhabitants driven away
before the battle of Lejictra ; but, as the Tlie>piau troops were present
with the Tliehans immediately before the battle (Paus., ix. 13, 8), it
would -.eera tliat only the walls, not the city itself, had been previously
<er.i^'ed See Grot;, HUl. tij Cruca, ix. p .'(79.
shores of Europe with the messags of Jesus Christ. It
was about the year 52 or 53 that he, on his arrival
from Philippi, preached the gospel of Christ in the rich
merchant city. As in other places, he began with the
Jews. There was a Jewish congregation at Thessalonica,
as at all ^^^ great ports and trading centres of the Medi-
terranean, with, their own synagogue and regular servica
For three Sabbaths Paul stood up in the synagogue, prov.
ing by the Scriptures that Jesus was the promised and
expected Messiah (Acts xvii 1-3). He had not much
success with the Jews, but this was more than compen-
sated by the number of " devout Greeks " (i.e., Gentiles
who already had some connexion with Judaism) whom he
won to a belief in Christ. He found hearing especially
\rith the chief women (Acts xviii. 4). But Paul had also
converted a not smaller number of real heathens. Indeed,
they must have co'nstituted the majority of the Christian
church there formed, for in his first epistle he says quite
generally that his readers, in consequence of his preaching,
had turned from idols to the one true God (1 Thess. i. 9).
Paul's stay in Thessalonica was short. The plots of the
Jews soon obliged him to leave the town, and he betook
himself to Bercea (Acts xvii. 10), thence to Athens (Acts
xvii. 15), and finally to Corinth (.\cts xviii. 1). The two
epistles were written to the church of Thessalonica during
a stay of a year and a half in Corinth (Acts xviii. 11),
about 53-54, not before this in Athens, as is asserted io
the subscription of both epistles in the Codex .Mexandrinus
and other MSS. For when Paul wrote the first epistle
some time had elapsed since the formation of the church :
some members were already dead (1 Thess. iv. 13), and
Paul had workfd for some time, not only in Macedonia,
but also in Achaia (i. 7, 8). On the other hand, the church
appears to be comparatively young ; the conversions are
still spoken of everywhere in Macedonia and Achaia (i. 9).
All this points to the conclusion that the first epistle was
written in Corinth, and this is confirmed by the opening
salutation (L 1), in which Silvanus (Silas) and Timotheus
are named as joint authors, for they were in Corinth pith
Paul (Acts xviti. 5).
The first epjstle gives us a very clear picture of the
disposition and state of such a young church, composed
of former heathens. They had received with enthusiasm
the gospel of Jesus Christ, the Bringer of salvation, the
Saviour in the approaching day of judgment (i. 9, 10).
But the realization of this salvation is now awaited with
impatience, and a sense of disappointment is expcrien(«d
because some members of the church have died without
having seen the advent of the Lord (iv. 13). At the
same time many there are still living in gross heathen
sins and vices (iv. 1-8). Paul had sent back Timotlicus
from Athens to Thessalonica in order to advise the young
inexperienced church, and to obtain news concerning it
(iii. 1-5). He has just returned to Paul (iii. G), and the
information received through this source is the occasion
of the first epistle,^ designed to supply the place' of
Paul's personal presence and bring new exhortation and
instruction from the apostle to the young church, which
still much needed guidance.
We have no information concerning the effect of this
letter It is conceivable, hc^•eve^, that the cliurch re-
quired yet further advice and direction from the apostlp,
and so far it is not remarkable that Pajul.saw the need for
a second similar letter of teaching and''exhortatioM This
second epistle also, if it is genuine, w.»s written duiing
Paul's stay of a year and a half at Corinth, very soon after
* Acconling to Acts xvii 14-lIi uri.l xvm. 5, Silas an. I Tiinolheus
had' reiiiainuil lrt:tiind in Ueroia, and hrst met Paul ;igain in Corinth.
Butaccordiuy to 1 Thes.s. iii 1-D it hiust be iuulerstood that rimutbeus
was in Athens with Paul, and bad been sent thence tb Thesiilumc*.
XX J U. — ^8
298
THE — T H E
the first, f'or it also is written in the conjoined names of
Silvanus and Timothcus, who were still with I'aul, while
we must understand from Acts xviil. 18 that after Paul's
departure from Corinth they ceased to be his companions.
The occasion of this epistle seems especially to have arisen
from the circumstance that the church had been put into
fear and anxiety about the advent of Christ, perhaps by a
pretended letter from I'aul. Two passages point to the
existence of such a thing : iu ii. 2, Paul says that the
church shall not let itself be alarmed " by word or by letter
OS frorn us " (i.e., nominally coming from us), and in iii. 1 7
ttgain Paul lays emphasis on his signature by his own
hand a? the token (of genuineness) to be noticed in each
letter. In any case the chief aim of the epistle is to tran-
quillize the church concerning the advent of Christ,' which
b not yet immediately imminent. He particularly exhorts
them not to let themselves be shaken in mind, as that the
day of Christ is at hand (ii. 1, 2). For before this day
comes the " man of sin " must first appear, who seats
himself in the temple of God, and gives huncclf ont for
God (ii. 3-5). And he too is for the present kept back by
another power (ii. 6, 7). Only when the latter is taken
out of the way shall " that wicked " be revealed, and the
great falling away shall follow (ii. 8-12).
The genuineness of the two epistles has not remained
unquestioned by the newer criticism. Baur declared him-
self against the genuineness of both epistle.s,' and he is
followed by Van der Vies ' and several others.' But in
general the predominant opinion of impartial criticism at
present is that the genuineness of the first cpistla is
certain, while that of the second must be given up.
Tbi3 is tltc opinion of Hilscnfeld {Z. /. vtIss. Thtol, 1S62, p.
225-264; 18C6, p. 295-301; 1S69, p. 441 sq.; 1870, p. 244 sq\
Van M.Tticn {Ondcrzock nnar dcxcJdktid van Paulus tweatcn britj
lOTi dt TUssnlunicciscii, Utrecht, 1865), S. Davidson Unlrod. to
•he New Tasliiiiidii. 2J iJ., 1SS2, i. 4-16, 336-351), WcLzsackcr
[Das apostolische Zitnlter, 1S86. p. 249-261); and Holtzinann
also leans to the same view, without, however, definitely commit-
ting himself {Einl. %n d. N. T., 2dea., 1886. p. 433-241). The
genuineness of the first epistle is vindicated by LipsiuS {TJiaal. SC.
u. Kr., 1854, p. 905-934), Von Soden {ibid., 1885, p.' 263-310),
and Paul Schmidt (L'erersfc ThcssahnKherbrit;/ n^u erkidrt, Berlin,
1885), while, on the other hand. Kern {Tubing. ZeUschr. / Theot.,
1339, ii. 145-214) and Babiisen {JahT-b. far prot. Theol., 1880,
p. 681-706) attack that of the second. Grimm {Theol. Su u. Kr.,
1860, p. 753-816) and Westrik {Dc echlhetd van den tweedm brief
aan de Thessalonice-nsm, Utrecht, 1879) have entered tho lists for
the genuineness of both epistles.
The final decision of the newer criticism is justified by
the evidence. No real difficulties can be brought against
the genuinenes.s of the first epistle, but they certainly can
igainst that of the second. When Baur finds that the
epistles lack the characteristic Pauline ideas, he is only so
far right that the doctrine of justification by faith is not
dealt with, for which, however, no occasion arises. It has
been asserted that there are traces of imilation of the
epistles to the Corinthians, but the points pf resemblance
are' not such as to justify this conclusion. Tho connexion
of tho passage in 1 Thess. ii. 16 (the wrath of God is
already come upon the Jews) with the destruction of
■Jerusalem rests on an arbitrary, nay false, interpretation.
And it cannot be maintained on- impartial examination
that in 1 Thcafl. ii. 14, 15, thoTewish churches of Palestine
Rfe set forth in a way unlike Panl, as an example for the
heathen churches.
The objections to the second epistlo are much weightier,
though here also not all the argum^jits adduced by hostile
* Pa^Ju* der AposUl Jesni Cliristi, 1846, and Tlt^oh'tiulie Jnkr-
Wichrr, 185,1, p 141-168, reprinted in 2d ed. of Vnu/uj. ii. 341-369.
' De Oci'fc liTievm nnn de ThfSSftlontcenserl, t,oyden, 1865.
• Holsten aJuo (J<ihrl,. f. jirot. Theol., 1877; p. 731 ^7.) and Slcrk
UahTh. f. jjTot. Thiol., 1893. p. 509-624) diisputc llic pi-nuiDcneM
at tlie tint epiatle, presupposing the epurioiisuess oi tlio second.
critics are valid. "It has been often said that the auJhSi^
like tho author of the Apocalypse, regards Nero aa the
Antichrist, expecting him to reappear as tho arch.enemj
of Christ. But this intcr[irctation of the short stiiteniem
of our epistle cannot be proved. Tne assumption that!
buforo the dawn of salvation godlessness would reach its
height, through tho appearance of an arch-enemy of bod
and His church is, sotohpcak, a dogmatic postulate which
rusts oil the prophecies of Daniel and other prophets of the
Old Testament. /Vud, in so far as the picture of this arch;
enemy is endowed with historical features, they can quite
as well have been drawn from Caligula as from Kero.
For Caligula had already laid claim to the honours of a
god, and because of this appeared to tho Jews to be the
embodiment of godlcssricss. The assumption of such an
Antichrist would not be striking in Pauh Even if if
.s correct (as is generally and with reason taken for
granted) that by the hindrance which keeps back the
appearance of Antichrist (2 Thess. ii. 6, 7) the established
might of the Roman emperor and empire is to be unaer.
stood, this view would be quite in keeping with Paul'a
vicv! about the Roman dominion /Horn. xiii. 1-7). Yet
it must be conceded that the statements on this head
create real difiiculty, if wc compare them with those of tha
first epistle, in which all stress is laid on the fact that the
day of the Lord comes as a thief in the night, and that
man must be prepared for it at any momcut (1 Thess. v
1-11). In the second epistle it is pointed out with cquat
emphasis that the day of the Lord is not immediately
imminent, and that certain events must come first ■(?
Thess. ii. 1-10). It is certainly very striking that Paul
so soon after the admonitions of the first kind, should ^
have given the quieting assurances of the second. And
2 Thess. ii. 2 and iii. 7 can hardly be explained except by
tho supposition that the readers had been thrown into
alarm by a pretended epistle from Paul. Could this have
been dared in that early time, almost under tho eyes of
the apostle? Finally, it is not to be denied that the stylo
of the second epistle is different from that of tho first, and
that the contents often appear a mere imitation, except in
the eschatological passages on account of which it was
written. It must therefore be admitted that weighty if
not conclusive considerations have been produced against
its genuineness. (e. s*.)
THESSALONICA. See Balonica.
THESSALY is tho district of northern Greece which Se» to,
intervenes between M.acedonia and the more purcjy «i Pl»te»
Hellenic countries towards tho south, and between the ! "'"',
upland region of Epirus and the yEgean Sea. It forms an ,.„| ,,
irregular square, extending for about sixty miles in each Pi ill.
direction, and this area, which is for the most part level
is enclosed by well-marked boundaries — by the Cambuniar
Mountains on the north, and by Othrys on the south,
while on its western side runs the massive chain of Pindus.
which IS the backbone of this part of Greece, and towards
the east Ossa and Pclion stand in a continuous line ; at
the north-eastern angle Olympus rises, and is the keystone
of the whole mountain .<y.stcni. The elevation of some ot
the summits in these ranges is considerable, for three oi
tho peaks of Pindu?- aro over 5000 feet, and Olympus
Ossa, and Pelion reach respectively the height of 9754
6407, and 6310 feet. The country that is contained
within these limits is drained by a single river, the
Pencius, which, together with the water of its numerous
confluents, passes into the sea through the Vale of Tempo.
Tin's pl.ace, which the Greeks were ace u.^iomcd to associate
with rural delights, is a chasm, cloven in the locks. a;! the
fable tells us, by the trident of Poseidon, bcl«ei.ii OI>inpHS
and Ossa ; .but though it possesses every clcnicm ol the
jublimo, yetjts features are_8oft._and beautiful, horn \k<t
T H E — T H E
299
broad winding river, the lozariant vegetation, and the
l^lades that at iaterrals open ont at the foot of the cliffs.
It is about four miles And a half long, and towards the
oajddle of the pass, where tbo rocks are highest, the pre-
cipices in the direction of Olympus fall so steeply as to
bar the passage on that side ; but those which descend
from Ossa are the loftiest, for they rise in many places not
less than loOO feel from the valley. Owing to the length
and nirrowness of the ravine, it was a position easily
defended, but still it offered a practicable entrance to aa
invading force, in consoiiuenec of which a number of
castles Were built al ditfcrcnt times at the strongest
points. On thi? north side of Thcs-saly there was an im-
portant pa.ss from Tctra in Pieria by the western side of
Olympus, dctiouching on the plain northward of L;irissa ;
it was by this that .\rr\es entered, and we learn from
Herodotus (vii 17:1) lli:it, when the Grecki discovered the
existence of this pas.-<ige, they gtive up all thoughts of
defending Tciii|io. Ou the side of Epirus the main line
of communication pa.ssed over that part of Pindus which
was called Mount Lacmon, and descended the upix?r valley
of the Pencius to /■Egiiuum in the north-wtst angle of
Tbessaly, near which pLace now stand the extraordinary
monasteries of Meteora. Tins was tbo route by which
Julius Cc-ar arrived before the battle of Pharsalia.
Another pass through the Hindus chain was that of
Gompbi, farther south, by means of which there was com-
munication with the Ambracian Gulf. The great southern
pass was that of Ciela, which cros.-ies Mount Otbrys nearly
opposite Thorniopyl.-u. These ThessaUan passes were of
the utmost ini|)urtanee to southern Greece, as commanding
the approaches to ihat part of the country.
Though Thessaly is the most level district of Greece, it
does not present a uniform unbroken surface, but is com-
poeed of a nuinU-r of sections which open out into one
another, divided by ranges of hills. The principal of these
•»ere called Upper and Lower Thessaly, the former com-
jlrising the western and south-western part, which con-
tains the higher course of the Peneius and all those of its
tributaries that flow from the south — the Enipeus, the
Apidanus, the Onochonus, and the Pamisus; while the
Litter, which reaches ea.*tward to the foot of Ossa and
Pelion, is inundated in parts at certain seasons of the year
by the Peneius, the flood water from which forms the lake
Nessonis, and, when that is full, escapes again and fiours
itself into the Lake of di-be. The chief city of the latter
of these districts was Larissa , and the two were se[)aratcd
from one another by a long spur, which runs southwards
feom the Cambunian Mountains on the western side of
diat city. Again, when Thessaly is entered from the
aonth by the pass of Ccela, another plain, containing a
small lake, which was formerly called Xynias, intervenes,
and a line of low hills has to be crossed before the town of
Tbaumaci is reached, which from its commanding position
overlooks the whole of the upper plain. The view from
this point b^ been described by Livy in the following
remarkable passage — " When the traveller, in passing
throDgb the rugged districts of Thessaly, where the roads
are entangled in the windings of the valleys, arrives at this
city, on a sudden an immense level expanse, resembling
a vast sea, is outspread before him in such a manner
that the eye cannm ea.*ily reach the limit of the plains
extendeil honealh " (x.<xii 4) To the northeastwards of
this, where a pornon of the great plain begins to run up
into the mountains, thej'lain of Pharsalia is formed, which
is intersected "by the river Enipeus; and still farther in
the same direction Is the scene of another great battle,
CYooscephali. Thessaly was further suMivided into four
districts, of which Pelasgiotis embraced the lower plain of
the Peneios. and IIesti:;^otia and Thessaliotis respectively
the northern and the southern portions of the upper plain
while the fourth, Phthiotis, which lies towards the south-
east, was geographically distinct from the rest of the
country, being separated from it by a watershed. The
determining feature of this is the Pagasseus Sinus (Gulf
of V'olo), a landlocked basin, e.^tending from Pagasoe at
its head to Aphetie at its narrow outlet, where the chain
of PeUon, turning at right angles to its axis at the end of
Magnesia, throws out a projecting line of broken ridges,
while on the opposite side ri.-^e the heights of Othrys. Id
the heroic age this district was of great importance. It
was the birthplace of Greek navigation, for this seems to
be implied in the story of the Argonauts, who started from
this neighbourhood in quest of the golden fleece. From
it the great Achilles came, and, according to Thucydides
(i. 3), it was the early home of the Hellenic race. The site
of lolcu.s, the centre of so many poetic legend?, is at no
great distance from the modern Volo. Near that town
also, at a later period, the city of Demetrias was founded by
Demetrius Poliorcetes, who called it one of the three fetters
of Greece, Chalcis and Corinth being the other two.
The history of Thessaly is clostly Coiinectod with its geography'.
The fertility of the land ottered a temptation to invaders, and waa
tlius Uio primary cause of the early migrations. It was this
motive wliich iirst induccil llic Tlicssaluns to leave tJieir home in
Epirus and descend into tliis *Iistrict. and from this movement
arose the expulsion of the Ikeutians from Arne, and Ihcir settle-
ment in the country subsei^uenlly called Ba-utia ; while another
wave of the same tide drove the Dori.ins also southward, whose
mi!»r.itinns changetl the face of the Pelo|>onnesc. Again, tliis rich
soil was the natural home of a powerful aristocracy, such as the
families of llio Aieuad.-e of Lari;>sa and the Scopada: of Crannon ;
and tfie af^sence of elevatM positions was unfavourable lo the
foundation of numerous cities, which might ti.ive fostered the
spinlof freedom and democracy. Tlie plains, also, were ?iiiled to
the breeding of horses, and consequently the I'orec m whieii the
Thessalian nation was strong was cavalry, a kind of troops wtiicb
has usually lieen associated with oligarchy. The wealth :i:id the
semi-Hellenic character of the people— for in race, as in gi ograph-
ical position, the Thessalians held an intermediate place K-tween
the non-Hellenic Macedonians and the Greeks of pure LlooJ —
caused them to bo wanting in patriotism, so that .at the time
of the Persian wars we find the A]euad,e making common cause
with the enemies of Greece. VTien they were united they were
a formidable power, but, like other half-orgauized communities,
they seldom combined for long together, and conseijueutly they
influenced Iml little the fortunes of the Greeks.
For several centuries during the Middle Ages Koumanian immi-
grants formed so largo a part of the population of Thessaly that
that district was called by the Byz-antine writers Great Walachia
(MtytiAT RAaxfa) : the Jewish traveller, IVnjamin of Tudela. who
passed ihrouglj the country in the latter half of the I2th cenluryj
describes them as then occupying it At the present day only a'
fey- eolonies of that race remain, the printi|>al of which arc found
on tho western side of Olympus and in some ol the gorges of
Pindus. The Turkish inluabitants are settled in the largir towns,'
and here aud th>-re in the country districts, the raost important
colony being those called Koniarates, who were brought froin
Konieh in Asia Alinor shortly before the taking of Constantinople,
and plantetl'under the south-west angle of Olympus. The Greeks,
however, form the vast majority of the population, so much so
that, even while the country belongeil to llie Ottomans, Greek was
employed as the official language. In accordance with the pro-!
visions of the Berlin treaty, Thessaly vva-* ceded to thP Gr\-eks by
the Porte in ISSI.and since that poi*od it ha:> formed a portiot^
of the Hellenic kingdom. (H. F. T)
THETFORD, an ancient borough and market-town
partly in Norfolk and partly in Suffolk, is situated on the
Thet and Little Ouse, and on the Great Eastern Railw.iy
line between Cambridge and Norwich, 36 miles south west
of Norwich, 12 north of Bury .St Kdmunds, to which
there is a branch line, and fi"' north north oast oi L"'idi.n.
The Little Ouse, which divides the counties, is crossed
by a cast-iron bridge erected in ISli'J. In the time of
Edward IIL the town bad twenty churches and eight
monasteries. There are now three churcties — St Peter's,
St Cuthbert's, and St Mary's : of these St Mary's, en th«
Suffolk side, is tho largest. There arc various monastic
300
T H E— .T H I
remains in the town. The most important relic of anti-
quity is the castle hill7 a mound 1000 feet in circumference
and 100 feet in height, probably the largest of the Celtic
earthworks in England. The grammar school was founded'
in 1610. In King Street is the mansion-house occupied as
a hunting lodge by Queen Elizabeth and James L Brewing
and tarming are carried on ; and there are also manure
and chemical "works, brick and lime kilns, flour-milk, and
agricultural implement -works. The Little Ouse is navi-
gable from Lynn for barges. The population of the muni-
cipal borough (area 7296 acres) in 1871 was 4166 and in
J.881 it waa 4032.
Thetford is-snpposed to hare been the Sitomagtcs of the Romans.
Xn the time of the Sa.\oiis, by whom it was called Theodford, it
waa the capi*»l o£ Xast Anglia. During the heptarchy it was
frequently desolated by the Danes. It was burned, by them in
998 after a di-awn battle between Swend and Ulfcytel, and again
after ijlfcyters second battle at Ringmere, 10th Jlay 1004. From
the reign of Athelstan to that of King John it possessed a mint.
The see of Elmham was removed to it in 1070, but it was trans-
ferred to Norwich in 1094. At Domesday it had iive burgesses, but
by the time of Edward III. they had increased to 953. It was in-
corporated by Elizabeth in 1573. Itreturned two members to parlia-
ment from the time of Eaward VI., but was disfranchised in 186S.
THEYENOT, Jean de (1633-1667), an eminent Ori-
ental traveller, was a native of Paris, where he received
his education in the college of Navarre. The perusal of
works of travel ^ moved him to go abroad, and his circum-
stances permitted him to please himself. Leaving France
in 1652, he first visited England, Holland, Germany, and
Italy, and at Rome he-fell in with D'Herbelot, who invited
him to be- his companion in a projected voyage to the
Levant. X)'Herbelot -was detained by private affairs, but
Thevenot sailed, fromlvome in May 1655, and, after vainly
waiting five-jnonths -at Malta, took passage for Constan-
tinople alone. He remained in Constantinople till the end
of the following August, and then proceeded by Smj-rna
and the Greek islands tO- Egypt, landing at Ale-iandria on
New Year's Day 1657. He was a year in Egj-pt, then
visited Sinai, and, returning to Cairo, joined the Lent
pilgrim caravan to Jerusalem. He visited, the chief places
of pilgrimage in Palestine, and, after being twice taken by
corsairs, got back to Damietta by sea, and was again in.
Cairo in time to view the opening of the canal on the rise
of the Nile (August U, 1658). In January 1659 he
sailed from Alexandria in an English ship, taking Goletta
and Tunis on the way, and, after a sharp engagement with
Spanish corsairs, one of which fell a prize to the English
merchantman, reached Leghorn on April 12. He now
spent four years at home in studies useful to a traveller,
and in November 1663 again sailed for the East, calling
at Alexandria and landing at Sidon, whence he proceeded
by land to Damascus, Aleppo, and then through Mesopo-
tamia to Mosul, Baghdad, and Mendeli. Here he entered
Persia (August 27, 1664), proceeding by Kirmanshahan
and Hamadan to Ispahan, where he spent five months
(October 1664-February 1665), and then, joining company
with the merchant Taveester (q.v.), proceeded by Shiraz
and Lar to Bender- Abbas, in the ho!>e of firuiing a passage
to India. This was diffic^u, because of th? -opnosition of
the Dutch, and, though Ta vernier ~was able to proc<;cd,
Thevenot found it prudent to return to Shiraz, and, having
visited the ruins of Persepolis, made his way to Basra, and
sailed for India November 6, 1665, in the ship "Hope-
well," arrinng at the port of Surat January 10, 1666.
He was in India for thirteen months, and crossed the
country by Golconda to Masulipatam, returning overland
to Surat, from which he sailed to Bender-Abbas and went
up to Shiraz.2 He passed the summer of 1667 at Ispahan,
' His uncle Melchisedetli had similar tastes, and poblisbed a well-
inown collection of Voyages (fol., Paris, 1663, 5^.).
> tt wa..! ai this time that he met Cliazxliii near Persepolis. but thnt
disabled by an accidental pistol shot, and in October
started for Tebriz, but died on the way at Miyana
(November 28, 1667).
Thevenot was an accomplished linguist, skilled in Turkish,
Arabic, and Persian, and a curious and diligent observer. He
was also well skilled in the natural sciences, especially in botany,
for which he made large collections in India. His personal
character was admirable, and his writings are still esteemed, though
it has been justly observed that, unlike Chardin, he saw only the
outside of Eastern life. The account of his first journey waa
published at Paris in 1665 ; it forms the first part of his collected
Voijcujes. The licence is dated December 1663, and the preface
shows that Thevenot himself arranged it for publication before
leaving on his second voyage. The second and third parts were
posthumously published from his journals in 1374 and 1684 (all
4to). A collected edition appeared at Paris in 1689, and a second
in 12mo at Amsterdam in 1727 (5 vols.). There is an indifferent
English translation by A. Lovell (/ol., London, 1587).
THIAN-SHAN, or Celestial MonxTAiKS. See Asia'
(vol. ii. p. 686), Syb-Darla, and Turkestan.
THEBAUT, Amto.v Fkiedeioh Justus (1774-1840),
one of the greatest of German jurists, was born at Hameln,'
in Hanover, January 4, 1774; that is, ten years after his
contemporary and rival Hugo, about a year before Feuer-!
bach, and five years before Savigny. Thibaut's father was'
an ofiEcer in the Hanoverian army, a skilful mathematician,'
and, like his son, a man of much force of character. His
inother was the daughter of the oberbiirgermeister of the
town. The Thibauts were of French descent ; they came
from a family which had been driven out of France on the
revocation of the edict of Nantes. As a child and youth,'
Thibaut lived in Hameln, Harburg, and Hanover. He was
fond of rowing, skating, and swimming, and, above all, of
music, which remained his passion through life. As a lad
he set his heart, chiefly for romantic reasons, on being a
forester, and he actually spent two years as such. But he
soon became di-senchanted, and in 1792 went to Gottingen
to study. In 1793 he moved to Kbnigsberg, where Kant
still taught Thibaut was deeply affected by the critical
philosophy; his very latest writings bear traces of it, and
it is not unimportant in the history of jurisprudence in
Germany that Hugo was equally influenced by it. From
Konigsberg Thibaut moved in 1794 to Kiel, where he
formed a friendship with Niebuhr, at that time a student
there. They lived for a year in the same house, taking
their meals together, and holding much converse on litera-
ture and politics. Both already displayed the bent of
their minds —Niebuhr despondent and affrighted at the
progress of the French Revolution, Thibaut hopeful, un-
dismayed, and certain that eventually all would be vvelL'
In 1798 he. was appointed extraordinary professor of civil
law, and in the same year appeared his Versnche iiber
einzelne Theile der Theorie des MechU (Kiel, 1798), a col-
lection of essays, of which by far the most important waa
entitled "Ueber die Einfluss der Philosophie auf die
Auslegung der Positiven Gesetze." Taking as his text an
observation of Leibnitz, he sought tti show that history
without philosophy could opt interpret and explain law.'
The essay was partly by anticipation a corrective of the
teaching of the historical school of jurists. It enters into
speculations on the possibility of forming an ideal body of
law as a measure and mode of exposition of particular law,
— speculations which have never been continued, certainly
not by Thibaut. In 1799 he was made ordinary professor
of civil law. In that year was published his Theorie der
logiscken Ausler/ung des romiscfteii Hechts, one of his most
remarkable works, a favourite book of Austin's, and, as
his well-annotated copy in the Inner Temple library shows,
one which he had most carefully studied. In 1800 Thibaut
married the daughter of Professor Ehlers at Kiel. In 1802
somewhat envious scholar is wrong in saying that this was Thevenot*»
only\Tsit to the ruins (Chardin, Voyages, ed. Langlea, viii, 345^ - Se»
Tbevauot. pt. iL bk. 3, cbap. 6.
1
T H I B A U T
he published a sbort criticnm of Feuerbach's theory of
criminal law, ft is an excellent illustration of his good
•ense; it discriminates between what is good and what
is unsound and crude in the writings of criminal law
reformers; it recalls in many ways the speculations of
Bentham. The same year app»ared Thibauis essay Ctber
Bfsxu und rerjahrunff. In 1S03 Thibaut was called to
Jeca, where he spent three years, made happier than they
otherwise ».ould have been by intercourse with Goethe and
Schiller At the invitation ol the grand-duke of Baden he
went to Heidelberg to fill the chair of civil law and to
assist in organizing the university , and h". never quitted
that town, though he received in after years, as his fame
grew, invituions to GbttingeM, Munich, and Leipsic His
class was large, hrs mfluence great . and, except Hugo and
Savigny, no civilian of his time was so well known. In
the work of the university he took an active part , and he
cultivated with rare devotion his favourite art. In 1S14
appeared his Cinlutiscke Abhandluwjen, of which the prin-
cipal was his famous essay, the parent of so much litera-
ture, on the necessity of a national code for Germany,
He had no wish to enter into official or practical life,
"lam Professor Thibaut, and wish to be nobody else"
In 1819 he was appointed representative m the first
Chamber of the Baden parliament He was also made
member of the Scheidungsgericht In 1825 appeared
anonymously his work Veber die Reinheu der Tonkutist, in
which he eulogized the old music, and especially that of
his favourite master. Palestrina. It involved him in a
contest with Nageh and other admirers of the new school
Of music whose ments Thibaut was somewhat slow to
own This has been translated into English by W H
Gladstone. In 1836 Thibaut published his Erarlerunyni
den romiseAen Rechu One of his last works was a contri
bution m 1838 to the Arclitv fur du eimtistische Praxis,
of which he was one of the editors (see below) He died
peacefully, full of years and honour, on the 29th of March
1840.
Thibaut was of the middle height and broad-shouldered,
his eyes bright and piercing, his head noble and striking '
his whole appearance told of power, Bimplicitv, and reserve.'
All who knew him speak of his strong personality, his
manly consistent nature Young men loved him, and he
drew to the young. If he sometimes signed his letters
••Smper idem A F J. Thibaut," it was not a phrase.
Every incident told of him has a curious flavour He was
much more than ajurist he deserves to be remembered
10 the history of music Palestrina and the early com-
posers of church music were his delight ■ Jurisprudence
IS my business , my music room is my temple ' His
friend, Dr Baumstark, has left an interesting record of his
musical pursuits and of the work of his " Sangverein " at
Heidelberg. Among the masters of German prose Thibaut
holds no mean place. Nothing could be clearer, more
unpedantic and unpretentious, than his exposition his
prose IS scarcely inferior to Lessing-s Like his speech
bis written style was simple and manly, but it is simplicity
marked by care, and is rich in the happy accidents of
expression which come only to true artists. He liked the
old classical models, he read and reread the classics,
ancient and modern, his taste being cathobc enough to
include Plato and Clirysostom, Montaigne, Hume's Essays,
Adam Smith's works, Fergusons Essay on the History of
Ciiil Society (which he particularly admired), and the
later developments of German literature.
Most of Thibant'8 works have already been mentioned. Several
or them, however, deserve further uotice. And first as to his essav
on the necessity of a code for Germany ("Ueber die Nothwendi/.
ten emes allgememen biirgerlichen Rechts fur Deutschland ")
Nn more persuasive argument for codification was ever advancei
It Uaa all the vigour of Benthaiu's art-uments for the same cause.
301
rnVi «" °v h's pamphleteering reckle.<aDess of expression,
bnl.ke Hugo, whose education dated back to the time when French
i «?,n,.'rT^i'."PT-'"' "■ ^<^"^^°y ^"J «ho felt himself somewhat
a stranger to later Oerman culture, Thibaut was of his own time
the'ba«lenf1'^'" change which had come over GenuanyX;
,„ 1 »^ll ^ ^'P""' ""^'""^ of 'he insufficiency of Roman law
and eager to promote the greatness of his country. In his con-
the :.o-called historical and unhistoncal sehool," he tells the
h^tory of his memorable essay on the necessity of a code fo
u^i^x, "' *■ a^ ""'" "^"y '^«™^° ^"'J-'^f^ '■> 'SH about t
0,10? ^ ??• "'/r"i^'' ""^ <^han.e which this denoted , and
out of the lulness of his heart he wrote the essay m a fortnVht
The mode of tr^tment is more comprehensive than the theme-
and to-day. pcrha[« ,artly for thia reason, the essay .s as readable
as It ever was . junsts have not yet earned out all the sug-
gestions which it contains. For Germany, its soil freed and L
honour vindicated, a happy future had. he predicted, been opened
up Ihe division into small states was inevitable, and not to
be deplored The existence ol great states is alnays id a sense
unnatural . it implies « warm life only at one point,-, constant
repression of individuals lor a commou object, and no real unitv
between Uie rulers and the subjects In a land of .small states on
the other hand, the peculianty of each has lulPplay there is
development ol vanety and ih. unity of pnnces and'r«ople ia
i^^' K '""'* ""°S ^'^ •""> ""'^> practicable and niedful
in Ihibauts judgment was one of law and for such all the
German Governments should labour His review of the state of
junspr^dence m Germany is severe it recalls the contemporane-
ous criticisms passed by Bentham on English law Thibaut minted
out luminously the contrast between the lunrtamenui con.eptiona
of Koman and German society, and the madeouaey ol Roman law
to supply defects in German jiinsprudenue It w« not pleasina
to many junsts to be told that a few lei-iures on the laws of thi
Persians and Chinese would do nioru t<. a.vaken a true judicial
sense than minute disquisitions on the Koman law ot intestacv—
observations the full efleci ol which Thibuut himselt did not
perhaps conceive The essay was as much a condemnation ol tha
entire state of jurisprudence a^ an argument loi .-.^nhcation it
was a challenOT to civilians to jusiiiv iheir ver>- ejcisiei.ce Savi^y
took up the challenge thus il,i,.«n du»n , and a long controverev
as to points not very cleaily denned took place The glory o'f
the controversy belonged to Sav.gny; the real victory rested with
Thibaut. By r«;ent legislation Germany has earned out some of
the Ideas of Thibaut ; and others indicted but not developed in
his essay remain to be completed by a scientihc school of jurists.
One of his works best worth reading is his Theory o/ Co,^ikaittn
Though directly applicable to Roman law. it ,s ol general use.
The subject is divided into t>vo branches-" Inierpreiation nach
der Absicht des Geset2geber ■ and " Interpretation nach dcm
UruDde aes Gesetzes," or, as Austin expresses the distinction in a
marginal note on his copy. •• What the legislator would have con-
templated had he conceived his purpose completely and distmaiv
and what the legislator actually contemplated " It would be inter-
esting to compare the rules of interpretation stated by Tl.ibaut with
the rules of construction, familiar to English law7ers. laid do.™ by
Coke in Heydon s Case. 3, 76. Reports. Thibauts best-known work
13 on the Pandects I^Sysxem. des PandcAtenrecAls, 3 vols.. ]a03) a
part of which was tsanslated by Lord-Justice Lindley He was
one of the earliest to cnticize the divisions found in the Institutes,
and he earned on with Hugo a controversy as to these iwints.
1 hibant s own classihcauon earlier is unsatisfactory He divided
the subject into public law (that which treats of the relation,
between Government and subjects), pnvate law, and inteniational
law Public law he subdivided into consiitutional law (Slaais-
TuAt. the laws binding o., the sovereign) and administrative l.nw
{Hegierun^ccht, or cnminal law. and laws relatin- o finance and
police). The laws relating to civil process were dealt with partly
under administrative law and partly under pnvate law. Status
was placed partly in the lormei partly in the latter, and the law
as to guardianship and parental authority is treated as a part of
the law of police Thibaut, however, abandoned in practice tliis
unscientific division One of his most interesting works is his
posthnmous treatise on the "Code C^vil," IcJirbucA dcs fmnOs.
iscAen Uinlreclus rn suter fergteichung mxt devi ro>nuchcn CivU-
rteM W hile criticizing the code, which he designates as in the
highest degree unsystematic he recognizes in it menu which
German junsts of his time were reluctant to admit
In modern German legal literature Thibauts influence is not very
perceptible. Even at Heidelberg it was quickly su)wr»?.lcd by that
of his successor. Vangerow. and in Gennany his works are now little
used as text- books But those best able to jndge Thibaut have
most praised him Austin, who owed much to him, describes him
as one who foi penetrating acuteness, rectitude of judgmeut and
depth of learning, and eloqueuce ol exposition m.iy be placed, by
the side of Von Savigny, at the head of all living civilians,*
and elsewhere he praises Thibauts indefaugable perSverance and
t;02
T H I — T H I
"tegscity not san^&aaaW" '* High thouglt sach culomca aro, thoy
•te scarcely aucjUiUi. In Thibaut'a works aro promises which ho
did not fulfil, and they contain, fertile suggestions which future
jurists may utilize. It was not the least of his merits that he
introdaced scientific methods into legal practice and practical
sense into jurisprudence. (J. M+. )
THIELT, a town of Belgium, in the province of West
Flanders, 15 miles south-south-east of Bruges, on a brancli
line between Ingelmunster and Deynze. It manufactures
linen and woollen goods, gloves, vinegar and spirits, and
has tanneries and bleacheries. There is also some trade in
cattle and grain. The town was of considerable import-
ance in the Middle Ages, but was almost entirely destroyed
jby fire in 1383, a calamity from which it never wholly
recovered. The population in 1876 was 10,527.
THIERRY, the name of two excellent Fretich historians,
brothers (Augustin and Am6dte), both of whom, though
their literary and historical faculty was not quite equal,
displayed the same devotion to historical study.
L Jacques Nicolas At] GusTiN Th FERRY (1795-1856);
th« elder and most gifted, waa born at Blois on the 10th
May 1795. He had ncredvantages of birth or fortune,
but was greatly distinguished at the Blois grammar school,
and entered the ficole Normale, an establishment which,
designed on the best principles to supply France with
perfectly equipped teachers, has on the whole done more
service to'journalism and literature than to pedagogy.
He appears to have been very susceptible to personal
influences, and waa for a time docile to St Simon and
afterwards to Comto. But his real bent was towards more
solid studies, and, under the impulse of the strong current
setting at the time towards mediseval research, he began,
and in 1825pabliahed, his History of tlie Korman. Conr/uesl
of England, much altered and improved in the later edition
of 1840. Two years later he published important Lettres
tuf VHistoire de France, attacking the traditional method
of history-writing, and recommending recourse to the
original documents. About this time the heavy calamity
of blindness threatened him, and by 1630 he had totally
lost' his sight. His marriage, however, with Julie de
Qudrengal, a woman of ability, considerably lightened his
misfortune, and about the same time he was elected to
the AcadSmie des Inscriptions. He continued to pursue
his historical studies, now through other eyes, and in
1834 published Dix Ana dtlludus IlisUrriques, which was
followed by his capital work, the PedU MerovingieTis, in
1840. His later years were chiefly occupied in the study
of the history of the Tiers Etat, which bore fruit in more
than one publication. Ho died at Paris on May 22, 1856.
The duller school of picturesque Dryasdusts (o rather miraculous
combination) who havo profited by Thierry's labours and continued
his work have sometimes charped both hira and his brother with
lnrinR entered on history with their minds full of Walter Scott,
«nd witli having subordinated facts to graphic presentation. Tho
charge is entirely unjust, and is generally found in the mouths
«f those who are particularly ill qualified to make it, inasmuch as
they owo Thierry nearly everything in style. By others ho is de-
ncribed as tho founder of the picturesque school, and in this capa-
city, no doubt, he has much to answer for. His own work, how-
ffver, is of a very high and remarkable character. He had hardly
any forerunners, unlesa Gibbon may be coiuited as one, and his
freedom from the besetting sin of his own school — tho subordina-
tion of sober history to picturesque description and romantic
narrative — is best seen by comparing him with his contemporary
lliiranto, who, however, is him:self not to be named otherwise than
honoris caitsa.
II. AmiSd^e Simon DomiNiqce Thierry (1797-1873)
was the younger brother of Augustin, and was born on
the 2d August 1797. He began life as a journalist (after
an essay, like his brother, at schoolmastcrinp), was con-
nected with the famous romantic harbinger the Globe, and
obtained a small Government clerkship. His first book
was a brief history of Ouienne in 1825, and three years
(atcr appeared the Hutoire des Gauluis, which was received
with much favour, and obtained hici,' from the royalist
premier Martignac, a history professors-hip at Bosancjon.
He was, however, thought too liberal for the Government
of Charles X., and his lectures were stopped, with the
result of securing him, after the revolution, the important
post of prefect of the Haute-SaOno, which ho held eight
years. During this time ho published nothing. In 1838
he was transferred to the council of state as master of
requests, which post he held through the revolution of
1848 and the coup detat till 18C0, when he was made
senator — a paid oflice, it must be remembered, and, in
effect a lucrative sinecure. He also passed through all the
ranks of the Legion of Honour, became a member of the
Academic des Inscriptions in 1841, and in 18C2 received
the honorary degree of D.C.L. at Oxford. He bad, except
during the time of his prefecture, never intermitted his
literary work, being a constant contributor to the RevM
des Deux Mondes, his articles (usually worked up after-
wards into booko) almost all dealing with Roman Gaul
and its period. The chief were the Histoire d'Auila
(1856), frequently reprinted, the J/istnire de la Garde sout
I' Adminislralum li'imaine (1840-2), a Tableau de FEmpire
Romain, and, in imitation of his brother, certain Eecits of
Roman history, a book on St Jerome in 1867, and one
on Cliri/sostoni, and Eudoxia in 1873. He died March
27, 1873.
His literary and historical genins was perhaps inferior to hia
brothtr's, and he exhibits more of the detects of the auecdotia
method of writing history, but he shared Augustin's passion for
going to t>ie fountainhead and for^nimating the dry bones of mere
chrouiclea and mere academic discussions with accounts of the lif»
of peoples.
THIERS, a town of France, chef-lieu of an arrondisse-
ment in the department of Puy-de-Dome, off the railway
between Clermont and St Ltienne, "24 miles east-north-
east of the former town. It is most picturesquely situated
on the side of .1 hill, at the font of which the Uurolle
rapidly descends through a narrow valley into the Dore, in
its turn a tributary of the Allier. The streets, rising in
steep rows, contain many wooden and gabled houses, some
of which are as old as the 15th century, and a fine view
of the Plain of Limagne and the Dome Hills is obtainable
from tho terraces. All the processes of making cutlery
maybe seen at Thiers, giving employment to 12,000 work-
men in the town and the villages within a radius of 6 to 7
miles. Sheath-making, tanning, and paper-making (chiefly
stamps and playiilg cards) employ 8000 hands, aod thiJ
businessdone reaches £1,200,000 perannum. Thechurcb
of Le Moutier, so named. from a Benedictine monastery
of which it formed part, contains building of the 7th, 8th,
and 11th centuries; the tower is more modern. There
were 12,005 inhabitants in 1886 (commune 16,754)
Thiers was sacked in f 23 by the soidifrs of Thierry, the son of
Clovis ; and Gregory of Tours speaks of a wooden chapel which
then existed here {on the site of tlie jireseut cliurch of Le MoQUer),
The church of' St Genez was built in 573 by Avitus, bishop of
Clermont, on the site of the ancient Tigcrnnni Caslnivi, was rebuilt
in 1016 by Wido, lord of Tliiers, and again in the 12th century.
There is some cuiious mosaic work of the 12th century, and a 5uo
tomb of the 13th. The commercial importance of Thiers was
preiitly increased three centuries ago, when the manufacture of the
larger kinds of cutlery was introduced from ChatcldoQ, between
Vichy and Thiers.
THIERS, Louis Adolthe (1797-1877), "liberator oi
tho territory," as even the short-lived gratitude of Franca
continues to call him, was born at iSlarseilles on April 16,
1707. His family are somewhat grandiloquently spoken
of as "cloth merchants ruined by tho Revolution," iut it
seems that at the actual time of his birth his father was
a locksmith. His mother belonged to tho family of the
Cht^niers, and he was well educated, first at the Lycie of
Marseilles, and then in the faculty of law at Aii. Rora
he began his life-long friendship with Migoet, and wa»
THIERS
303
called to the bar at the age of 23. He had, however, little
taste for law and mach for literature ; and he obtained (it
is said by an ingeoious trick, and ib spite of unfair and
prejudic^ attempts to deprive him of it) an academic
prize at Ais — for a discourse on Vauvenargues. In the
early autumn of 1S31 Thiers went to Paris, and was
quickly introduced as a contributor to the ConstitiUionntl,
at first on literary and then on general and especially
political subjects, as well as art and the drama. In each
of the years immediately following his arrival in Paris be
collected and published a volume of his Constiiutionnel
articles, the first on the salon of 1822, the second on a
toor in the Pyrenees. He was put out of all need of
money by the singular benefaction of Cotta, the well-
known Stuttgart publisher, who was part-proprietor of the
CoTUtitutionnel, and made over to Thiers his dividends, or
part of them. Meanwhile he became very well known in
Liberal society, especially in the house of Laffitte, and he
had begtm and was rapidly compiling (at first with the
assistance of M. Felii Bodin and afterwards alone) the
celebrated Hutoire de la Revolution Fran^aiae, which
founded his literary and helped bis political fame. The
first two volumes appeared in 1823, the last two (of ten)
in 1827. The book brought him little profit at first, but
became immensely popular. The well-known sentence of
Carlyle, that it is "as far as possible from meriting its
high reputation," is in strictness justified, not merely in
regard to this, but in regard to all Thiers's historical work,
which is only too frequently marked by extreme inaccu-
racy, by prejudice which passes the limits of accidental
unfairness an-1 sometimes seems to approach those of
positive dishonesty, and by an almost complete indifference
to the merits as compared with the successes of his heroes.
Bat Carlyle himself admits that Thiers is " a brisk man
in his way, and will tell you much if you know nothing."
In other words, the Histoire de la Revolution (again like
its author's other work) possesses in a very high degree
the gifts of clearness, liveliness, and intelligible handling
which so often distinguish French writing. Coming as
it did just when the reaction against the Revolution was
about to turn into another reaction in its favour, it was
assured of success.
For a moment it seemed as if the author had definitely
chosen the lot of a literary man, even of a literary hack.
He planned an Histoire Generale, and was about to survey
mankind from China to Peru on the deck of a French
man-of-war as a preliminary proces.s. But the accession
to power of the Polignac ministry in August 1829 changed
his projects, and at the beginning of the next year Thiers,
with Armand Carrel, Mignet, and others, started the
National, a new opposition newspaper, which openly
attacked the older Bourbon line and was foremost in pro-
voking the famous and fatal Ordonnances of July. Thiers
himself was the soul (or at least one of the souls) of the
actual revolution. What share he had in the process
sometimes attributed to him of " overcoming the scruples
of Louis Philippe" is no doubt a debateable question, with
the problem in limine of the debate whether Louis
Philippe had any scruples to overcome. At any rate
Thiers had his reward. He ranked, if not at once, yet
very roon, as one of the radical though not republican
supporters of the new. dynasty, in opposition to the party
of which his rival Guizot was the chief literary man, and
Guizot's patron the duke of Broglie the main pillar among
the nobility, and which might be called by comparison
Conservative. At first Thici^ though elected deputy for
Aix, obtained only subordinate places in the ministry of
finance. After the overthrow of his patron LaflBtte, he
seemed to change his politics and became much less
radical, and, after the troubles of June 1832, this tend-
ency was strengthened or rewarded by his appointment to
the ministry of the interior He repeatedly changed his
portfolio, but remained in office for four years, became
president of the council and in effect prime minister, and
began the series of quarrels and jealousies with Guizot
which make one of the chief and not the most creditable
features of the politics of the reign. At the time of his
resignation in 1836 he was foreign minister, and, as
usual, wished for a spirited policy in Spain, which he could
not carry out. He travelled in Italy for some time, and it
was not till 1838 that he began a regular campaign of
parliamentary opposition, which in March 18-tO made him
president of the council and foreign minister for the second
time. But he held the position barely six months, and,
being unable to force on the king an anti-English and
anti-Turkish policy, resigned on October 29, after having,
as was generally thought, with the direct purpose of stir-
ring up Anglophobia, begged the body of Napoleon from
England. This was made the occasion of the ceremony
immortally ridiculed by Thackeray, and, it is said, con-
demned by Thiers himself as unworthy of the occasion.
He now had little to do with politics for some years, and
spent his time on the preparation, on a much larger scale
than his first work, of his Hi^trAre du Consulat ct de
I' Empire, the first volume of which appeared in 18-t5, and
which continued to occupy him for more than twenty
years of composition and nearly twenty of publication.
During the interval, though, he was still a member of the
chamber, he spoke rarely, but after the beginning of 1846
his appearances were more frequent, and he was evidently
bidding once more for power on the liberal and reforming
side. Immediately before the revolution of February he
went to all but the greatest lengths, and when it broke
out he and Odillon Barrot were summoned by the king,
but it was too late. Thiers was unable to govern the
forces he had helped to gather, and he resigned. ■
Under the republic be took up the position of conserva-
live republican, which he ever afterwards maintained (his
acceptance of the republic being not much more heartfelt
than his subsequent acceptance, after an interval, of the
empire), and he never took office. But the consistency of
his conduct, especially in voting for Prince Louis Napoleon
as president, was often and sharply criticized, one of the
criticisms leading to a duel with a fellow deputy, Bixio.
On the whole, his conduct during these years, and still
more during the last years of Louis Philippe, may be said
to have been not wholly creditable. He was arrested at
the coup d'etat (when some malicious and apparently
false stories were spread as to his cowardice), was sent
to Mazas, and then escorted out of France. But in the
following summer he was allowed to return. For the next
decade his history was almost a blank, his time being
occupied for the most part on The Consulate and the
Empire. It was not till 1863 that he re-entered political
life, being elected by a Parisian constituency in opposition
to the Government candidate. For the seven years follow-
ing he was the chief speaker among the small band of
anti Imperialists in the French chamber, and was regarded
generally as the most formidable enemy of the empire, —
all the more formidable because he never gave occasion
for taking any violent steps against him. It has been
pointed out that, while nominally protesting against the
foreign enterprises of the empire, he perpetually harped
on French loss of prestige, and so contributed more than
any one else to stir up the fatal spirit which brought
on the war of 1870, and that, while constantly criticizing
and weakening the Government of his country, he gave
it no help nor even offered any. Even when the Liberal-
Imperialist OUivier ministry was formed, he maintained
at first an anything but benevolent neutrality, and then
304
THIERS
an open opposition, and it would be pleasant to feel mora
certain than we can feel that his vigorous dennncia-
tion of the war with Prussia was the result of honest
conviction, and not merely of the fact that it was not /its
war. At any rate, it brought him great unpopularity for
the moment, with a corresponding reaction of gratitude
when the crash came. Again it is impossible to be sure
whether mere "canniness," or something better, kept him
from joining the Government of the National Defence, of
which he was m a manner the author.
Nevertheless the collapse of the empire was a great
opportunity (or Thiers, and it was worthily accepted. He
undertook in the latter part of September and the 6rst
three weeks of October a circular tour to the different
courts of Europe, in the hope (wh;ch he probably knew to
be a vain one, though the knowledge neither daunted his
spirit nor relaxed his efforts) of obtaining some inter-
vention, or at least some good offices. The mission was
unsiiccesslul . but the negotiator was on its conclusion
immediately charged with another — that of obtaining, if
possible, an armistice directly from Prince BismarcL For
a time this also (ailed, as the Provisional Government
would not accept the German conditions ; but at last
France was forced to yield. The armistice having been
arranged, and the opportunity having been thus obtained
of electing a National Assembly, Thiers was chosen deputy
by more than twenty constituencies (of which he preferred
Pans), and was at once elected by the Assembly itself
practically pro.'iident. nominally "chef du pouvoir ex6-
cuti( '■ He lost no time in choosing a coalition cabinet,
anil then per.sunally took up the negotiation of peace.
Piiibablv nil statesman has ever had a more disgusting
ta.sk iind the tact that he discharged it to the satisfaction
ol a vast niaiority, even in a nation popularly reputed the
vainest, tlie least ballasted with common sense, and the
mo.st uniraleful to pubJic servants who are unsuccessful, is
the sironi.'est testimony to Thiers's merits. After contest
iiii: tbe matter, on the one side with the determination of
Gerniany to have the pound of flesh, on the other with
tlie ri'luciance ot the Assembly to submit to the knife, he
surcfHded in convincing the deputies that the peace was
oecevsary, and it was (March 1, IS71 ) voted by more than
*ive 10 one
Tliicr.< held office for more than two years after this
evfnt — a lenuth ot tenure which, in the circumstances
and consideniii; the French temper, is very surprising, and
shows tbe strength ot the general conviction that he alone
could be trusted He had at first to meet and crush at
onw the mad enterpri.<;e of the Pans commune , and the
severity which was undoubtedly shown in doing this is
nviie I ban jii.<tified by two considerations, — first, that
failiiri- to suppress it would have meant anarchy through-
out France , and. -iecondly, that the Germans would
almost to a certainty have made it a pretext for further
demands Soon after this was accomplished, Thiers be-
came (Aufrust ^0) in name as well as in fact president of
the re|iublic, and he set himself with vigour and success
to the tasks of rearranging the army, the finances (includ-
iiig the paving off of the war indemnity), and the civil
service, and of procuring the withdrawal of the German
arniy of occupation.
The strong personal will and inflexible opinions of the
president had much to do with the resurrection of France ;
but the very same facts made it inevitable that he
should excite violent opposition. It seems to be gene-
rally acknowledged that to him personally were due the
establishment and retention of the republican rather than
♦.he monarchical form of government, to which latter the
Assembly as first elected was notoriously disposed. He
was a confirmed protectionist, and free-trade ideas bad
made great way in France under the empire ; he was au
advocate of long military service, and the devotees of la
revanche were all for the introduction of general and com-
pulsory but short service. Both his talents and his temper
made him utterly indisposed to maintain the distant,
Olympian, apparently inactive, attitude which is supposed
to be incumbent on a republican president ; and (for his
tongue was never a carefully governed one) he aometiraea
let drop expressions scarcely v ./nsistent with constitutional
theories of the relation of the chief of the state, whether
president or king, to parliament. In January 1872 he
formally tendered his resignation , but the country was
then in too manifestly disorganized a condition to allow
even his enemies to accept it. His position, however, was
clearly one not tenable for long in such a country as
France The Right (and not mesely the Extreme Right)
hated him tor his opposition to the restoration ot the
monarchy, and with some justice reminded him Of (ormer
declarations and opinions on the subject ; the Extreme Left
could not forgive the suppression of the commune, while
some radical leaders, who may have had little sympathy
with the commune itself, saw in his great reputation and
imperious personality a bar to their own accession to power.
His chief supporters — men like Remusat, Barth^lemy Saint-
Hilaire, and Jules Simon — were men rather of the past than
of the present , and he had few younger adherents.
The year 1873 was, as a parliamentary year in France,
occupied to a great extent with attacks on Thiers. In
the early spring regulations were proposed, and on April
13 were carried, which were intended to restrict the
executive and especially the parliamentary powers of the
presiden* On the 27th of the same month a contested
election in Paris, resulting in the return of the opposi-
tion candidate, M. Barodet, was regarded as a grave
disaster for the Thiers Government, and that Government
was not much strengthened by a dissolution and recon-
atitution of the cabinet on May 19 Immediately after-
wards the question was brought to a head by an interpel-
lation moved by the duke of Broglie. The president
declared that he should lake this as a vote of want of
confidence ; and in the debates which followed a vote of
this character (though on a different formal issue, and
proposed by M. Ernoul) was carried by 16 votes in a
house of 704. Thiers at once resigned (May 24).
He survived his fall four years, continuing to sit in the
Assembly, and, after the dissolution of 1876, in the Chamber
ot Deputies, and sometimes, though rarely, speaking. He
was also, on the occasion of this dissolution, elected senator
for Belfort, which his exertions had .<aved for France , but
he preferred the lower house, where he sal as of old for
Pans. On May 16, 1877, he was one o( the "363 " who
voted want of confidence in the Broglie ministry (thus
paying his debts), and he took considerable part in organ-
izing the subsequent electoral campaign. But he was
not destined to see its success, being fatally struck with
apoplexy at St Germainen-Laye on September 3. Thiers
had long been married, and his wife and sister-in-law.
Mile. Dosne, were his constant companions ; but he left no
children, and had had only one — a daughter, — who long
predeceased him. He had been a member of the Academy
since 1834. His personal appearance was remarkable,
and not imposing, for ne was very short, with plain
features, ungainly gestures and manners, very near-sighted,
and of disagreeable voice ; yet he became (after wisely
giving up an attempt at the ornate style of oratory) a very
effective speaker in a kind of conversational manner, and
in the epigram of debate he had no superior among the
statesmen of his time except Lord Beaconsfield.
Thiers Is by far the most giftjd and interesting of the group
of literary statesmen — not stiitesmen who have bad a jtenchatU for
T H I— T H 1
305
litaratnre, but men of letters whose Ifterary distinction has made
them politicians — which forms a unique feature in the French
political history of this century. Numerous as these are, there are
only tvfo who are at all comparable to him — Gtiizot and Lamartine ;
and as a statesman he stands far abore both. Nor is this eminence
mersly due to his great opportunity in 1870 ; for Guizot might
under Louis Philippe have almost made himself a French Walpole, at
least a French Palmerston, and Lamartine's opportunities after 1848
were, for a man of political genius, illimitable. But both failed,
Lamartine almost ludicrously, — while Thiers in hard conditions
made a striking if not a brilliant success. A devil's advocate may
indeed urge that his egotist and almost gasconading temperainent
stood him in stead in the trying circumstances of his negotiations
with the powers and with Prince Bismarck,— but this is not really
to his discredit. No less masterful methods than his would have
sufficed to bring France into order from the chaos succeeding the
fall of the empire and the invasion of the Germans. But Thiers only
showed well when he was practically supreme. Even as the minister
of a constitutional monarch his intolerance of interference or joint
authority, his temper at once imperious and intriguing, his invete-
rate inclination towards brigue, that is to say, underhand rivalry and
caballing for power and place, showed themselves unfavourably ; and
his constant tendency to inflame the aggressive and chauvinist spirit
of his country, though it may fairly claim to have been a kind of
patriotism, neglected fact, was not based on any just estimate of
the relative power and interests of France, and led his country more
than once to the verge — once, thoogh he affected to warn her off,
over the verge — of a great calamity. In opposition, both under
Louis Philippe and under the empire, and even to some extent in the
last four years of his life, his worse qualities were always manifested.
But with all these drawbacks he conquered and will retain a place
in what is perhaps the highest, as it is certainly the smallest, class
of statesmen — the class of those to whom their country has had
recourse in agreat'disaster, who have shown in bringing her through
that disaster the utmost constancy, courage, devotion, and skill,
and who have been rewarded by as much success as the occasion
permitted.
As a man of letters Thiers is very mnch smaller. He has nt)t
only the fault of diffiiseness, which is common to so many of the
best-known histories of this century, but others as serious or more
,so. The charge of dishonesty is one never to be lightly made
against men of such distinction as his, especially when their evi-
dent_,confidence in their own infallibility, their faculty of ingenious
casuistry, and the strength of will which makes them (unconsciously,
no donbti close and keep closed the eyes of their mind to all incon-
venient facts and inferences supply a more charitable explanation.
Rut it is certain that from Thiers's dealings with the men of the
first Bevolution to his dealings with the battle of Waterloo, constant,
angiy, and well-supported protests against his unfairness were not
lacking. Althongn his search among documents was undoubtedly
wide, its results are by no means always accurate, and his admirers
themselves admit great inequalities of style in him. These i
characteristics reappear (accompanied, however, by frequent touches
of the epigrammatic power above mentioned, which seems to have
come tc Thiers more readily as an orator or a journalist than as an
historian) in his speeches, which have, since his death, been
collected in many volumes by his widow. Sainte-Beuve, whose
notices of Thiers are generally kindly, says of him, " M. Thiers
salt tont, tranche tout, parle de tout," and this omniscience and
' ' cocksureness" ( to use the word of a prime minister of England con-
temporary with this prime minister of France) are perhaps th^ chief
pervading features both of the statesman and the man of lettei-s.
His histories, In many different editions, and his speeches, as abore, are easily
accessible; his minor works and newspaper articles have not, we believe, been
collected in any form. Works on him, by M. Laya. M, de Mazade, his colleaRue
and friend M. Jales Simon, and others, ore nattisrons- But a thoroagh biograph-
leal stndy of blm has not yet been made; and, thoogh monoments enongh tiave
been raised in his own country, it is even there often complained that the
Incessant and futile political stmggles of the last ten years have too much
obscured the repatation and weakened the memory of the last great statestrian of
'ranee. (G. SA.)
THIRLWALL, Connop (1797-1875), bishop of St
David's, was born at Steppey on 11th January 1797, and
was' the son of the Rev Thomas Thirlwall, at the time
lecturer at St Dunstan's, Stepney, and afterwards rector
of Bowers GiSord, in Essex. The family were of North-
umbrian extraction. Young ConBop showed the most
remarkable precocity, learning Latin at three, reading
Greek- at four, and writing sermons at seven." When he
was twelve his admiring father published his Primitis,
sermons and poems, the thoughts of an imitative boy in
the style of a grown man. No especial greatness could
have been safely predicted from these performances, which
Thirlwall assiduously strove to suppress in after years.
He shortly afterwards went to the Charterhouse, where
23—13
he wrote a number, of letters to a friend named John
Candler, some of which have been preserved. They dis-
play the same extraordinary prematurity, but are barren
of anything original except what he himself calls " sensi-
bility to the great and beautiful in morality " By a
curious coincidence his future rival in Greek history,
Grote, and Hare, his coadjutor in the translation of
Niebuhr, were among his schoolfellows. He, took up his
residence at Trinity College, Cambridge, liTOctober 1814,
and gained the Craven university scholarship, one of three
recorded instances of this honour being obtained by fresh-
men, and the chancellor's classical medal In October
1818 he was elected to a fellowship, and immediately
went for a year's travel on the Continent. At Rome he
gained the friendship of Bunsen, which bad a most import
ant influence on his life. On his return, "distrust of his
own resolutions and convictions" led him to abandon for
the time his intention of being a clergyman, and he settled
down to the study of the law, " with a firm determination
not to suffer it to engross my time so as to prevent me
from pursuing other branches of knowledge." This was
not the way to become lord chancellor, and, though he
afterwards says, " My aversion to the law ha« not in-
creased," he adds, " It scarcely could." How little his
heart was with it was shown by the labour he soon im-
posed upon himself of translating and prefacing Schleier-
macher's essay on the Gospel of St Luke', " very injudi-
ciously," says Maurice, who seems to think that it may
have cost Thirlwall the archbishopric of Canterbury. The
translation, nevertheless, marks an era in English theologj'.
He further, probably influenced by Hare, who had already
translated Tieck, rendered two of the Iktteirs niost recent
Novellen into English. In 1827 he at length made up his
mind to quit his uncongenial professions-find was ordained
deacon the same year. Beyond all question he might
have obtained the highest distinction both as jurist and
advocate, had law interested him mote, or other things
less. No one ever possessed a more judicial mind. Of
his oratory. Mill, whom he opposed at a debating society,
says, " Before he had uttered ten sentences I set him
down as the best speaker I had ever heard, and I have
never since heard any one whom I placed above him.
It is not often that a scholar twice makes an epoch by a
translation. Such was Thirlwall's destiny : he joined with
Hare in translating Niebuhr's History of Rome ; the first
volume appeared in 1828. The translation was attacked
in the Qnarterly as favourable to scepticism, and the
translators jointly replied. In 1831 the friends estab-
lished the Philological Museum, which lived through only
six numbers, though among Thirlwall's contributions was
his masterly paper on the irony of Sophocles, — "the most
exquisite criticism I ever read," says Sterling. On Hare's
departure from Cambridge in 1832, Thirlwall becamcr
assistant college tutor, which led him to take a memor-
able share in the great controversy upon the admission of
Dissenters which arose in 1834. Dr Turton, the regius
professor of divinity, had written a pamphlet objecting
to the admission, on the pretext of the apprehended un-
settlement of the religious opinions of young churchmen.
Thirlwall replied by pointing out that no provision for
theological instruction was in fact made by the colleges
except compulsory attendance at chapel, and that this was
mischievous. This attack upon a time-hallowed piece of
college discipline brought upon him a demand for the
resignation of his office as assistant tutor He complied
at once , his friends generally thought that he ought 'to
have tested the master's power The occurrence marked
him out for promotion from a Liberal Government, and in
the autumn he received the chancellor's living of Kirby -
under-Dale. in Yorkshire. Though devoted to bis par
306
T H I — T H I
ochial duties, he found tiniu to begin tbc book which has .
remained the principal woik of oim whobe performance,
however great, rarely rose to tlic level of his power.. r His
History of Greece, unfortunately for hiin and for us, was a
commissioa from Lardner's C'llnnet Cyclopedia, antl was
originally intended to hava been. condensed into two or
three duodecimo volumes. The scale was enlarged, but
Thirlwall always felt cramped. Ho seems a little below
his subject, and a little below himself. , Yet, suoh was his
ability that his history is usually allowed to fall only just
short of .Grote's, a work undertake!) with . far greater
enthusiasm, and e.tecuted with far greater advantages.
Sterling pronounces him "a.writer as great as Thucydides
and Tacitus, and with I'ar more knowledge than they."
The first volume was published in 1835, the last in 1847.
A, noble letter from Thirlwall to Grote, and Greta's
generous teply, are published in the life'of the latter.
In 184.0 ThlrlwaJl was raised to the .see of St David's.
The proniotion was entirely the act of Lord Melbourne, an
amateur In theology, who had read Thirlwallls introduction
to Schlejermacher, and satisfied himself of the propriety
of the appointment. " I don't intend to make a heterodox
bishop if I kno.w it," he said. Thirlwall so little expected
the honour that he was absent on a pedestrian tour, and
it was some days before he could be found. In- most
essential points he was a model bishop, and in acquainting
himself with Welsh, so as to preach and conduct service in
that language, "he performed a feat which, few bishops
could ; have imitated. It cannot bo said that he was
greatly beloved by his clergy, who felt their intellectual
distance too groat, and were alternately frozen by his taci-
turnity and appalled by his sarcasm. The great monu-
ment of his episcopate is the eleven famous charges in
which he from time to time reviewed the position of the
English Ohurch with reference to whatever might be the
most pressing question of tie. day, — addresses at once
judicial and statesmafllike, fiJI of charitable wisdom "and
massive sense. No similar productions, it may safely be
said, were pver so eagerly looked for, or carried with them
such weight of authority. His endeavours to allay ecclesi-
astical* jSanic, and to promote liberality of spirit, frequently
required no ordinary moral courage. He was one of the
four prelates who refused to inhibit Bishop Colonso from
preaching in their dioceses, and the only one who with-
held his signature from the addresses calling upon Colenso
to resign his see. Ho took the liberal side in the questions
of Mayttooth, of the ^mission of Jews to parliament, of
|the Gorham case, and of the conscience clause. ' He was
,the only bishop who voted for the disestablishment of th,e
Irish Church, though but as a painful necessity. Concur-
rent endowment would have been much more agreeable to
him. For many years he was the only statesman on the
bench ; it vrotild have been a great benefit to the Church
of England had it been possible to have raised him to the
primacy upon the death of Archbishop Howley. But such
|Was the complexion of ecclesiaetical politics that the eleva-
tion of the most impartial prelate of his day would have
been resented as a piece of party spirit.
Thirlwall's private life was happy and busy? He^never'
'married, but found sufficient oiitlet for his deep affection-
afeness of nature in his tenderness to the children of
others, and to all weak things except weak-minded clergy-
men. He was devoted to animals, and rivalled Southey ,
and Jeremy Bentham in his lov6 for cats. Perhaps the most;
durable monument to his memofy will be his incomparable'
volume .of letters to a friend, Miss Johnes of Dolaucothy,!
a young lady in every way worthy to; be the correspondent
of such a man. Even as letters' these rank with the best
in the language ; but as lettcW from age to youtn, syin
pathi^ing with all its feelings, entering into all itjj pleasures,
at once -inspiring and amusing, guiding without seeming
to direct, and entertaining wiiliout seeming to condescend,
they aire unique in llieir delightful brftncli of literature.
They are. ^Iso important as revealing Thirlwall's mind on
niimerous subjects which he has not elsewhere treated, and
most interesting from their |jicturo of simplicity of char-
acter associated with greatness of intellect, and of the
multiiilicity of his intellectual interests, from which novels
and lir\e art were by no means excluded. > During, his
latter years (le took great interest in the revision of the
authorized version of the Bible, and .was chairman of the |
revisers of the Old Testament. j^Hg resigned bis see 'in
May 1874, and retired. to Bath.where ho. died on July
27, 1875.
As scholar, critic, and ecclesiastical statesman Thirlwall
is almost above praise. He was not a great original
thinker; he lacked the creative faculty and the creative
impulse. The world owes such vestiges of his power as it
possesses to a series o^ fortunate accidents — an importunate
editor, vexatious church controversies, and 'an admirable
friend. Though not most fully exerted, the force of hif;
mind is .perhaps best appreciated in the volume of his
letters edited by Dean Perowne. His treatment of every
questionis consummate ; the largestand the smallest seeiEi
alike to him. His character, with its mixture of greataessi
and gentleness, was thus read by Carlyle ; — "a right
solid honest-hearted man, full of knowledge and sense,'
and, in spite of his positive temper, almost timid."
Thirlwall's History of Greece rem.iins a standard book, Hit
literary and tlicological remains have been edited by Dcin Perowna
in three voliiTncs, two of which are occupied by liis charges. Hij
letters, on literary and theological subjects, with a connecting
memoir, have licen jiublislifd by Dean Perowne and the Rev.(
Louis Stokes. His Ldters to a yrteiid were originally published
by Dean Stanley, and there is a revised and corrected edition. Fo»
a general view of Thirlwall's life -ind character, see the EdiiiMirgh
Review, vol. cxUii, , for a picture of him in his diocese, Tetn^il^
Bar, vol. Ixxvi. The review of his letters in Blackwood's M,a0i^
zvic. for 18G2 is by the late Rev. W. Lucas Collins. (R. 0.)
THIRSK, a market-town in the North Riding of Yorkj
shire, is situated oi» the North Eastern Railway, and on
the Codbeck, a branch of the Swale, 21 miles south of
Darlington, 11 north-east of Ripon, Jind 210 no'rth of
London. The Codbeck .is crossed by; two stone bridge*
connecting the old and the new towif . The church of St
Mary, in the Perpendicular style, with parvise, chatJJel,
nave, aisles, porch, and tower 80 feet in height, is thfl
noblest church in the Riding. The chancel was repaired
in 1844, and the whole building restored in 1877. The
moat of the ancient castle built by! the Mowbrays about
980 still remains. , The principal modern buildings are
the assembly rooms(lb49), the mechanics' institute (1852),
and the new court-house (1886). Standing in the fertile
district of the 'Vale of Mowbriy, the town has an extensive
home and foreign agricultural ipiplement trade. Iron-
founding, engineering,' tanning, and brickmaking are
carried on, and there are large flour mills. .The population
of the parliamentary borough, now disfranchised (area
11,828 acres), in 1371 was 5734, and in 1881 it was
6312. The population of the township in 1881 was 3337.
' Thirsk owes its origin to the casUo of the Mowbrays, und here
Roger de Mowbray erected his standard, in conjunction with the
king of Scotland, against Henry II. ' Upon the suppression of Uie
revolt the castle was destroyed. In the reign of Henry VII., Heurv
Percy, earl of Northumberland, is said lo have been put to death
beneath an elm. tree which formerly' grew on St James's Green. j
■Thirsk was a borough by prescrhition, but was never incor|iorated.J
]t first returned members to parliament in the reign of Sdward I,,'
but not again till the last parliament of Edward VI. In }M2 the
number of representatives was rtduced lo one,' and in I8&5 ii
ceased lo be separately represented.^
THISTLE. This term, as generaiiy~empioyccl,~i8 ol
vague application, being given to almost .'my herbacroua
pjant that i.H of a spiny character^ M.ore strictly, it is ap-
T H T~T H O
plied to the species of Cdrduiu. Tliese are Composite lierbs
witU very spiiiy leaves, and similar bracts surrounding a
head of (lurplisii-wliitc. tubular, 5-parted Rowers scatcd'on
a pitted and liaiiy receptacle. The anthers have apiicnd-
ages both at the apex and at the base. The style has a
ring of hairs at the point of bifurcation of the two stig-
mata. The fruit is surmounted by a tuft of silky white
hairs. .The species are numerous, and some are of great
beauty, though not unnaturally looked on with disfavour
by the farmer. The Cotton Thistle, remarkable for its
covering of white down, is Onopurdon Acant/iium , the
Blessed Thistle is Ccirduus benedxctus ; the Holy Thistle,
the leaves of wliicli are spotted with white, is C. Mari-
anus. The common C. lanceulalus seems to be the most
suitable prototype for the Scotch Thistle,' though that
honour is also conferred on Onopordon Acantkium, the
cotton thistle, a doubtful native, and on other species.
The great objection to thistles from an agricultural point
of view resides in the freedom with which they produce
seed, and in the vigour of their underground growth, which
makes their uprooting a matter of difficulty. Partial up-
rooting may indeed, in the case of the perennial species,
increase the mischief, for each fragment left behind may
grow into a distinct plant. Annual species might be kept
in check were they cut down before the flowers appear, but
unless all the cultivators in a particular district co-operate
the efforts of individuals are of little avail. The Globe
Artichoke and Cardoon are very near allies of the thistles.
The Safflower, Carthamus, another thistl^ yields a service-
able dye ; the Burdock, Arctium lappa, has an edible root ;
and numerous allied species have medicinal properties.
THISTLE, Order OF THE. See Knioiituood. vol xiv
p. 123. •
THISTLEWOOD CONSPIRACY, or Cato Street
Conspiracy, a plot formed in 1820 to murder Lord
Castlereagh and other ministers of the British crown, and
to seize the Bank and MansionHouse and proclaim a pro-
visional government. Its chief instigator was Arthur
Thistlewood, or properly Thistlewaite, boro in 1770, the
son of a civil engineer in Lincolnshire, who had held a
commission in themUitiaand afterwards in the line in the
West Indies. In America and in Franco he had imbibed
revolutionary views, and, having lost his wife's fortune in
speculation and on the turf, had planned the desiierate
scheme probably for his own benefit as well as the good of
the nation. The intention was to murder the ministers in
the house of the earl of Harrowby in Mans6eld Street on the
evening of the 23d February. For this purpose between
twenty and thirty men assembled in a stable in Cato Street
tdgeware Road, but. while they were arming themselves
they were pounced upon by the police, and a large number
captured though the majority, including Thistlewood
escaped. A reward of £1000 havmg been offered for
Ihistlewood, he was arrested next day at 10 White Street.
After a trial Thistlewood and four others were executed on
the 1st May, while five were transported. On being asked
on the scaffold if ho repented, Thistlewood replied, "No,
not at all ; I shall soon know the last granvl secret "'
lHOLUCK,FRi£DRicHADODsT(;oTrRE(; (1799-1877)
German theologian and preacher, was born at Breslau',
March 30, 1799, in humble circumstances. He received
his education at the grammar school and university of his
native town, and early distinguished himself by wonder-
ful versatility of mind, a phenomenal power of acquiring
languages, and an omnivorous appetito for books A
romantic love of the East and its literature led him to
exchange the university of Breslau for that of Berlin
.that hejnight study Oriental languages to greater advan-
30?
tage, and there he was'focelved into the house of .'th^
Orientalist Von Dietz. He was inircducod to Pietiifi*
circles in Berlin, and came specially under the influence o(
Baron Von Kottwitz. who became his "spiritual father.tanj
of the historian Neander. Before deciding on the careejf
of theological professor, he had in view iliat°of a missionary
in the East. Meanwhile he was feeling the influence tg
a certain degree of the romantic school, and of Schloier.
macher and Hegel too, though he never sounded the
depths of their systems. At length, in his twenty first year,
he finally decided to adopt the academical calling Frooj
December 1820 to April 1826 he was " privat-docent "
and " prof, extraordinarius "of theology in Berlin, though
he was at the same time most active in the work of horns
and foreign missions. He lectured on the Old and New
Testaments, ^theology, apologetics, and the history of the
church in the 18th century. The first fruit of his Oriental
studies and his introduction to his profession was his work
SsKjismus, sive Theosophia Persarum. PmUheislica ( 1 82 1 ) •
following the same line of study he published Blutm^
sainmhm^ aus der moryenlandisc/ien Myslik (1825) and
Spnulativf TrinildtsUhre des spaKren Orients (1826). Uis
well-known essay on the nature and moral influence of
heathenism (1822) was published by Neander, with high
commendation, in his Deiikumrdigkeiten ; and his Com-
mentart, on the EpisUe to the Romans (1824) secured him
a foremost place amongst the most suggestive, if not the
most accurate. Biblical interpreters of that time. An-
other work, which was soon translated into all the prin-
cipal European languages, Dix Lehre von der Siinde und
vom Versbhaer (1823), the outcome of his own religious
history, procured for him the position which he ever after
held of the modern Pietistic apologist of evangelical Chris-
tianity. In 1825. with the aid of the Prussian Govern-
ment, he visited the libraries of England and Holland, and
on his return was appointed professor of theology at Halle,
the centre of German rationalism. Here ho made it his
aim to combine in a higher unity the learning and to some
extent the rationalism of Semler, with the devout and
active pietism of Francke ; and, in spite of the opposition
of the theological faculty of the university, he succeeded
in changing the character of its theology. This he effected
partly by his lecture-i, particularly his exegetical courses,
but, above all, by his personal influence upon the students^
and, after 1833, by his preaching. His theological position
was that of a mild and . large-hearted orthodoxy, which
laid more stress upon Christian experience than upon rigid
dogmatic belief. On the two great questions of miracles
and inspiration he made great concessions to modern
criticism and philosophy The battle of his life was on
behalf of personal religious experience, in opposition to
the externality of rationalism, orthodoxy, or sacrament-
arianism. 'He fought this battle with weapons taken in
the first instance from his own personal history, but a'lo
from the wide world of human culture, ancient and modern,
Carl Schwarz happily remarks that, as the English apolo-'
gists of the _18th century were themsselves infected with
the poison of the deists whom they endeavoured to
refute, so Tholuck absorbed some of the heresies of the
rationalists whom he tried to overthrow. As a preacher
Tholuck ranked amongst the foremobt of his time. He
was also one of the prominent members of the Evangelical
Alliance, and few men were more wi<iely known or more
beloved throughout the Protestant churches of Europe and
America than he. He died at Halle, June 10, 1877.
After his commentanes (on Romans, the Gospi-1 of John, th«
Sermon on the Mount, and the Epistle to thu HeLrew.'!) and several
volumes of sermons, his best-known books are Stundcn chnstluAcr
Andacht (1839, 8th ed. 1870), intended to take the place of
ZschokkoB .standard rationalistic wi.rk with the same title, and his
reply to Strauss's Life of Jesus (Qlaubwunligkeil der^evangdixAei^
I30S,
T H O — T H O
OischicJUe, 1837)- He publishei! nt various times vajuable contribu-
tloDs towards .-i history of rationalism, — ^orgeschich/.c des Ration-
ahsvtv^ (1863-62), Gcschichte cUs RatumalisTmis. i (1865). and a
nuniber of essays conoccted with the history of theology and espe-
cially of apologetics His views of inspiration were indicated in
his work Df. Pruphctcn and ikre. i^ eissagnntjtni (I860), in his
essay on the " Alte Inspirationslehre," Deutsche Zcitsckn/t fiir
christliche IVisscnschaft (1850), and tti his Gesprache uber die
vomckmslcn Glaiiicns/ragen der Zcit (I846, 2d ed 1867)
Sec /)1J Z-f6<-n rAo/ufii, by L Witte, 2 vnls . 1884-1886 , A Ttiotuctcnn LebeM-
afcrigj by M Kfthlcr (1877). and the wtne author's art "Tboluck." In Herzog's
Utat Enc],ktopa<iif . "Zur Erinnerunc an Tholuck," by C Slefifned. /*ro.«s((2nf-
ijfie K^rcttteitung, i88&. No 45, and 1886 No 47; Cari Schwart. Zur Geicfiichtg
tftfi n^ucjfen Tfieol"<jie (4tb ed., 1869). Nippold'a Bandbncfi der neuttlen Kirchen-
ffet(htcf>lt
THOMAS, St, one of the twelve apostles The synop-
tical Gospels give only his name, associating him in their
lists with Matthew (Mat. x. 3, Mark in 18; Luke vi
15) ; in Acts i. 13 he is coupled with Philip. In the
Gospel of John (xi 16; xiv 5 ; xx 24 «</ ; xxi. 2} he
appears in a characteristic light, full of personal devotion
kki jready to die with his Master, but slow to gras.p the
trae significance of the redeeming death of Jesus, and
incredulous of the resurrection till direct evidence con-
vinces bim I of its truth and at the same time of the
Divinity of his risen Lord. John translates the Aramaic
name or surname Thomas (SDwn) by the Greek equiva-
lent Didymus (twin) Tradition has it 'hat he was the twin
brother of a sister Lysia (his parents being Diophanes and
Rhoa, and his birthplace Antioch; "XIL Apost. Patrias,"
in Chron. Pasch., ii. 142), or of a brother Elieser (Horn.
Clem., ii 1), or, according to the Acta Thomm (ed. Bonnet,
pp 11, 23), of Jesus Himself. The last form of the tradi-
tion seems to be derived from the name Judas Thomas,
which he bears in Edessene legend (cf. Eusebius, U. E.,
I. 13, 10), and implies the identification of Thomas with
Judas, the brother of the Lord. The. most ancient tradi-
tion makes Thomas the evangelist of Parthia (Eus., H. E ,
iii. 1,1); and at Edessa, which claimed to possess his bones,
it was related that their missionary Thaddaeus (^us.,
II. E , i. 13, 10), or Addai {Doctrine of Addai, ed Phillips,
1876, p. 5), was sent to them by him. Later tradition,
originating with the Gnostic Acta Thoma, and accepted
by catholic teachers from the middle of the 4th century,
makes him proceed to fndia and there suffef martyrdom.
The Indian Tiing Giindaphorus of the Acta is, however,
certainly identical with the historical Goadophares (see
Persia, vol. xviii. p 603), whose dynasty was Parthian,
though his realm included' regions loosely reckoned to
India. The Parthian and Indian missions of Thomas may
perhaps therefore be regarded as derived from a single
tradition Later authors, but not the Acta, give as the
scene of his martyrdom the city of Calamine, which the
modern Christians of St Thomas (see below) identify with
Mylapur, but which Gutschmid "would connect with the
Calama of Nearchus, on the coast of Gedrosia, which was
under the sceptre of Gondophares. Other names of his
torical persons and places can be traced with more or less
probability in the Ada, but these do not alter the utterly
apocryphal character of the legend, which indeed is in
many respects easier to understand if we accept the bold
hypothesis of Gutschmid, that it was borrowed by the
Gnostic author from a Buddhist story of the conversion of
Arachosia (A^ Rhexn Mus , xix ICl sq)
The Acta Tftnmm. very imperfectly published by Thilo (1823)
ind Tisihetidnrf (1851). have Deen edited in Greek, together with
(he Latin De Miracutxi and Passw S Thorns, hy Bonnet (Leipsic,
1883 1. and in Syriac, with an English translation, by W. Wripht
{AfKxryphat /Ids. 2 vola, London, 1871) Sea also Lipsius, Lhe
apixr'ji'ktn A/KisU/geschiciuen, vol 1 (Brunswick. 1883), for'lhese
• ij'l tttht-r vcPMons of the legend. The -4cta arc said by Photius
to be a piit f-f the ritpioStx ruf aToffT6\<iiv of the Gnostic Leucius
Charinus, but this unknown personage is to be thought of as a col
lector of Gnostic " Acts of Apostles," rather than as the first author
Ih spite" of extensive catholic revision, they form one of the most
'kDtcresting^^oouments of early OnosticiBm iDteroal evidence
assigns them with great probability to the school of Banjesaoet
and the very ancient allegorical hymn about the soul which is in
serted in the Syriac text (p 271 ,50 , Eng. tr , p. 238 sj ) is per
haps by Bardesanes himself (r/ Nofjeke in Z D. it G , 1871, p.
676) It ia one of the most remarkable pieces in Syriac literature.
Christians of St Thomas is a name often applied to,the
members of the ancient Christian churches of southern India,
which claim him as their first founder, and honour as their second
founder a certain Thomas of Jerusalem, who is said to have led
a Christian colony to Malabar in 345 A D.' According to their
tradition, St Thomas went frora Malabar to Mylapur, now a-
suburb of Madras, where the serine of bis martyrdom, rebuilt by'
the Portuguese 10 1547, still "stands on Mount St Thomas, and
wherea miraculous cross is shown with a Pahlavi inscription which
may be as old as the end of the 7th century We know from
Cosmaslndopleustes that there were Christian churches of Persian'
(East-Sy nan) origin, and doubtless of Ncstorian creed, in Ceylon, in
Malabar, and at Caliana (north of Pombay) before the middle of
the 6th century, and even then St Thomas, ths reputed aposlle of
Persia, may have been their special saint. ' The ancient churches
of southern India never died out or wholly lost their sense of con-|
nexion with their mother church, for we find them sending dt-pulies
in 1490 to the Nestorian patriarch Simeon, who furnished them
wrth bishops (Assomani, Bib Or , ui 1. 590 s? ) Hard pressed
by the Moslems, they welcomed the approich of the Portuguese,
but proved by no means tractable to efforts to bring them witliin
the Roman obedience. At length a formal uniou with Rome was
carried through in the synod of Diampoi (1599). Syriac was to
remain the ecclesiastical 'langu.^ge, but the service books were
corrected and purified (rom error, A century and a half of foreign
Jesuit rule followed, but the love of independence was noi lost
A great schism took place in 1653, and of 200,000 Christians of St
Thomas only 400 remained loyal to Rome, though many of their
churches were soon won ba<"k by the (Carmelites. Tho?e wb^
remained independent fSll under the influence of the Jacobite Mai
Gregorius, styled patriarch of Jerusalem, who reached Malabar in
1665 as an emissary from Ignatius, patriarch of -Antioch. From
his time the independent .Christians 'have been Jacobites, the
counter efforts of the Nestoriaus 'under. Mar.jGabrrel, bijhop ol
Adharbaijaii, having apparently come"lo nothing after his death m
1730 Siuce, the visit of Claudius Buchanan, whose CAnsIian Re
searches in Asia (1811) es*;^ited great interest, much has been done
for the Christians of South India by English luissionaiy efTort, and
Anglicans have cultivated friendly relations with the clergy of the
independent native church, while discouraging dependence on the
Jacobite patriarch of Antioch
A valuable though tedious and til arrajif^ed btsuiry of the Chrtstlans of Si
Thomas has been wiltten by W Geraiann, Oie Kirche der TftcmasfhmteTi,
GUlerBloh, 1877 See aiao La Cooze. HUtoire du Chnstiamime det tndes. Tho
Hague. 1724; Alexius de Meneiea. EiUorta t'ccleum MalabarxcK. Latin by if
KauIiD, Rome. 174& lespectally for the Eynod of Dlamper) ; Paullaus a S Bar
tbolomso, /ndta Ortentalu Cnrutxana, 4to, Rome, 1794.
THOMAS, St, of Aqoino. See AfjniNAS.
THOMAS BECKET, or A Becket- See A Becot.
* fHOMAS Of Celano^ the contemporary and supposed
biographer of Francis of" Assisi, was born probably towards
the end of the 12th century, and died about 1255. He
derives his surname from Celajjo (q.v.), in the Abruzzo
Ulteriore. His name does not occur among those of the
earliest disciples of Francis, but he is recorded by some
historians of the order, though not by all, to have held the
office of custos in various Franciscan houses (Cologne, Maioz,
Worms, .Spires) from 1221 onwards. An old biography
of Francis, which is incorporated in the Acta Sanctorum, is
attributed to Thomas with much probability, and nothing
cogent has been urged against bis authorship of the Diet
Ire (see Hymns, vol zii p 583), although, so far as is at
present known, his name is not associated with that re-
markable poem by any writer earlier than 1385, .
TH>jMAS OP Erceldoone, called also the-RHVMKR
(f. 1225-f 1300), occupiesa prominent pjace as ftpoet and
prophet in the mythical and. legendary literature of Scot-
land. The historical person of that name figures in two
charters of the 13th century, and from these it appears
that he owned lands in Erceldoune (now Earlston), in
Berwickshire, which were made over by his son and heir
to the cloister of the Holy Trinity at Soltra, or Soutra, on
' See the sketch in Syriftc ol the history of the church of Malabar
printed ami Irauslaled by Lund. Anecd Syr , i 24 sq. It was sent
loSchaaf at Leyden lu 1720 by Mar Gabnel, the last Nestonan bishop. ■
111 Malabar (see Germann, p. 542)
, T H 0 — T H 0
309
the borders of the same county. He figures in the works
of Barbour and Blind Harry as the sympathizing con-
temporary of their heroes, and Wyntoua tells how he
prophesied a battle. In the folk-lore of Scotland his name •
is associated with numerous fragments of rhymed or alli-
terative verse of a more or less prophetic and oracular
character ; bat the chief extant work with which his name
is associated is the poem of Sir TriMrem, edited from the
Auchinleck MS. by Sir Walter Scott in 1S04, and again in
1SS6 for the Scottish Text Society by Mr G. P. M'Neill.
In the latter edition the claim of Thomas to the authorship
«f this work (conceded by both editors) is fully discussed.
THOMAS A KEMPIS. See Kempis.
THOMASIUS, Cbristian (1655-1728), German jurist
and publicist, was born at Leipsic January 1, 1655, and
educated by his "father Jacob Thomasius, professor of
philosophy and eloquence, a learned man, and friend of
Spener. Through his father's lectures Christian came
under the influence of the political philosophy of Grotius
and Pufendorf, and cofltinued the study of law under
Stryck at Frankfurt on the Oder In 1681 he commenced
the career of professor of law at Leipsic, and soon attracted
attention by his abilities, but particularly by his daring
attack upon all ancient prejudices. His views on matters
of law were heretical ; he made the daring innovation of
lecturing in German instead of Latin ; he published a
monthly periodical in which he ridiculed with vast wit and
humour the pedantic weaknesses of the learned ; he took
valiantly the side of the Pietists in their controversy with
the orthodox, .and defended mixed marriages of Lutherans
and Calvinists. In consequence of these and other sins, be
was preached against from the pulpits, forbidden to lecture
or to write (May. 10, 1690), and his arrest was soon com-
manded. He escaped the latter by flight to Berlin, and
the elector Frederick III. oB"ered him a refuge in Halle,
with a salary of 500 thalers and the right to lecture there.
He took part in founding the university of Halle (1694),
where he became second and then first professor of law
and director of the university. He was one of the most
esteemed university teachers and influential writers of his
day He died, after a singularly successful and honourable
career, in his 74th year, September 23, 1728.
Titough not a profound and systematic philosophical thinker, but
rather a clever eclectic of the common-sense school, Thomasius
prepared the way for great reforms in philosophy, and, above all,
ID law, literature, ^cial life, and theology It was his mission to
bring all the high matters of divine and human sciences into close
aud living contact with the everyday world. He made learning,
law. philosophy, and theology look at everything from a rational
common-sense point of view, and speak of everything in vigorous
German. He thus created an epoch in German literature, philo-
sophy, and law, and Spittler opens with him the modern period of
e«clesiaslical-history. Tholuck pronounces him "the personified
spirit of ilfiwnioism-" He made it one of the aims of his life to free
politics and jurisprudence from the control of theology He fought
bravely and consistently for freedom of thought and speech on
religious matters. He is often spoken of in German works as the
luthor of the " territorial system," or Erastian theory of ecclesi-
*stical- gove'rnment. But he taught that the state may interfere
with legal or public duties only, and not with moral or private ones.
He introduced a new definition of heresy, and pronounced it a bug-
bear of the theologians. He would not have even atheists punished,
though they should be expelled the country. He came forwaid
as an earnest opponent of th« prosecution of witchps and of the use
of torture. In theology, he was not a naturalist or a deist, but a
•believer in the necessity of revealed religion for salvation. He felt
strongly the influence of the Pietists at times, particularly of
Spener, and there was a mystic vein in his thought; but other
«tement3 of his nature were too powerful to allow him to attach
hijnself finally to that party.
Thoinasius's most popular and influential German publications
were his periodical MonAtsgesprdchc , vornchmlick iiber nciic Buchcr
- X16SS); Kinkitujigzur Fcrnu!i/tlehrc(\69'\, 5th ed. 1719); VcrnUnfl-
'•ige Oedanken iiber alUrhand auserUscrnc, gcmischtc, philosophische,
■und jurijlische Hdndtl (1723-26); Oeschickte dcr IViisheit und
.XhoTheit (3 vok, 1693); Kurze LehrsiUze «m dem Laster dir
Zaubcrei mit dim BtZ€n}>Toc6ss (1704); J^'ciUre ErlduUrungen dcr
Ticturen tt^isscnscha/t jtndcrcr Galnnkcn kennm rw lerncn (1711).
Sec Hctnrich Luden's Cftritciiin Thnmanui nach stinfn Schieisalen ur-l
Scftrt/Un, 1305; Zellev'i Qfichichte der Pfiiloioj^ftie ih ncutichJand, 2d cd., 1ST ..
pp. 162-171; Gass, OtKhithtt der Pro^tilaiiutchtn Dvomalik. li. 484*17; tl ■-■
histories of Geiman literature, especially Ileiliiei's Ot:i<hUfttc der deatictien Ui
im ISten Jafirft.; Tholuck's artxle In Hcrzog's fUal LntyUop.
THOMPSON, Sir Benjaiuin, Codnt Romford (1753-
1814), an eminent man of science, enlightened pliilan
thropist, and sagacious public administrator, was bnrn at
Woburn, in Massachusetts, in 1753, and died at Autouil,
near Paris, in 1814. His family had been settled in New
England since the middle of the century preceding his
birth, and belonged to the class of moderately wealthy
farmers. His fatherdied while Thompson was very youn^,
and his mother speedily married a second time. But he
seems to have been well cared for, and his education was
.to far from n^lected that, according to his own statement,
he was at the age of fourteen sufficientty advanced " in
algebra, geometry, astronomy, and even the higher mathe-
matics," to calculate a solar eclipse within four seconds
of accuracy. In 17C6 he was apprenticed to a storekeeper
at Salem, in New England, and while in that employment
occupied himself in chemical and mechanical experiments,
as well as in engraving, in which he attais<!d to some pro-
ficiency. The outbreak of the American war put a stop
to the trade of his master, and he thereupon left Salem
and went to Boston, where he engaged himself as assistant
in another store. He afterwards applied himself to the
study, with a view to the practice, of medicine, and then
(although, as he affirms, for only six weeks and three d.iys)
he became a school teacher — it is believed at Bradford on
the Merrimack. Thompson was at that period between
eighteen and nineteen years old, and at nineteen, he says,
" I married, or rather I was married." His wife was
the widow of a Colonel Rolfe, and the daughter of a Mr
Walker, "a highly respectable minister, and one of the
first settlers at Rumford," now called Concord, in New
Hampshire. His wife was possessed of considerable pro-
perty, and was his senior by fourteen years. This marriage
was the foundation of Thompson's success. Within three
years of it, however, he left his wife in America to make
his way to wealth and distinction in Europe, and, although
his only child by her, a daughter, subsequently joined
him, he never saw and, so far as anything appears to the
contrary, never attempted or desired to see her again.
Soon after his marriage Thompson became acquainted
with Governor Wentworth of New Hampshire, who, struck
by his appearance and bearing, conferred on him the
majority of a local regiment of militia.. He speedily
became the object of distrust among the friends of the
American cause, and it was considered prudent that he
should seek an early opportunity of leaving the country.
On the evacuation of Boston by the royal troops, therefore,
in 1776, he was selected by Governor Wentworth to carry
despatches to England. On his arrival in London he
almost immediately attracted the attention of Lord George
Germaine, secretary of state, who ap[iointed him to a
clerkship in his office. Within a few months he was
advanced to the post of secretary of the province o(
Georgia, and in about four years he was made under-
secretary of state. His ofiicial duties, however, did not
materially interfere with the prosecution of scientific
pursuits, and in 1779 he was elected a fellow of the
Royal Society. Among the subjects to which he especially
directed his attention were the explosive force of gun-
powder, the construction of firearms, and the system of
signalling at sea. In connexion with the last, he made
a cruise in the Channel fleet, on board the "Victory,"
as a volunteer uudcr the command of Admiral Sir Charles
Hardy. On the resignation of Lord North's administra-
tion, of which Lord George Germaine wa.s one of the least
310
T H 0 — T H O
lucky and most unpopular members, Thompson left the
civil service, and was nominated to a cavalry command
in the revolted provinces of America. But the War of
Independence was practically at an end, and in 1783 he
finally quitted active service, yvjth the rank and half-pay
of a lieutenapt-colonel. He now formed the design of
joining the Austrian army, for the purpose of campaigning
against the Turks, and so crossed over from Dover to
1 CsJais with Gibbon, who, writing to his friend Lord
j Sheffield, calls his fellow-passenger " Mr Secretary-Colonel-
Admiral-Philosopher. Thompson." At Strasburg he was
introduced to Prince Maximilian, afterwards elector of
Bavaria, and was by him invited to enter the civil and
' military service of that state. Having obtained the leave
of the British Government {o accept the prince's offer,
he received the honour of knighthood from George IIL,
and during eleven years he remained at Munich as minister
df war, minister of police, and grand chamberlain to the
elector. His political and courtly employments, however,
did not absorb all his time, and he contributed during his
stay in Bavaria a number of papers to the Philosophical
Transactions. But that he was sufficiently alert as the
principal adviser of the elector the results of his labours
m that capacity amply prove. He reorganized the Bavarian
army ; he suppressed mendicity and iound employment
for the poor ; and he immensely improved the condition of
the industrial classes throughout the country by providing
them with work and instructing them in the practice
of domestic economy. Of the prompt and the business-
like manner in which he was wont to carry his plans
into execution a single example may serve as an illustra-
tion. The multitude of beggars in Bavaria had long
been a public nuisance and danger. In one day Thompson
caused no fewer than 2600 of these outcasts and depre-
dators in Munich and its suburbs alone to be arrested by
military patrols, and transferred by them to an indus-
' trial establishment which he had prepared for their recep-
tion. In this institution they were both housed and fed,
and they, not only supported themselves by their labours
but earned a surplus for the benefit of the electoral
revenues. The principle on which their treatment pro-
ceeded is stated by Thompson in the following memorable
words : — " To make vicious and abandoned people happy,"
he says, " it has generally been supposed necessary first
to make them virtuous. But why not reverse this order 1
Why not make them first happy, and then virtuous ? " In
1791 he was created a oount of the Holy Roman Empire,
and chose his title of Runiford from the name as it then
was of the American township to which his wife's family
belonged. In 1795 he visited England, one incident of
his journey being the loss of all his private papers, includ-
ing the materials for an autobiography, which were con-
tained ic a box stolen from off his postchaise in St Paul's
Churchyard. During his residence in London he applied
himself to the discovery of methods for curing smoky
chimneys and the contrivance of improvements in the
construction of fireplaces. But he was quickly recalled to
Bavaria, Munich being threatened at once by an Austrian
and a French army. The elector fled from his capital, and
it was entirely owing to Rumford's energy and tact that a
hostile occupation of the city was prevented. It was now
proposed that he should be accredited as Bavarian am-
bassador in London ; but the circumstance that he was a
British subject presented an insurmountable obstacle. He,
however, again came to England, and remained there in
a private station for several years. In 1799 he, in con-
junction with Sir Joseph Banks, projected the establishment
of the Royal Institution, which received its charter 6f
incorporation from George III. in 1800. Rumford him-
self selected Sir Humpliry Davy as the first scientific
lecturer there. Until 1804, when he definitively settled
in France, Rumford lived at the Royal Institution in
Albemarle Street, or at a house which he rented at Bromp-
ton, where he passed his time in the steady pursuit of
those researches relating to heat and light and the economy
of fuel on which his scientific fame is principally based.
He then established himself in Paris, and married (his first
wife having been dead for many years) as his second wife
the wealthy widow of Lavoisier, the celebrated chemist.
With this lady he led an extremely uncomfortable life, till
at last they agreed to separate. Rumford took up his
residence at Auteuil, where he died suddenly in 1814, in
the sixty-second year of his age.
H« was the founder and the first recipient of the Rumford medal
of the London Royal Society. He was also the founder of tlie
Rumford medal of the American Academy of Arts and Sciencea
and of the Rumford professorship in Harvard university. His
complete worlcs were published by the American Academy of Arts
and Sciences at Boston in 1872 ; and a full and extremely interest-
ing memoir of the author which was issued with them was repub-
lished in London by Messrs UacmiUan in 1S76. (F. DR.) I
THOMPSON, Thomas Phbonnet (1783-1869), mathe-
matician and political writer, was born af Hull in 1783.
He was educated at the Hull grammar school, and in
October J 798 entered Queens' College, Cambridge. He
entered the navy as midshipman in the "Isis"in 1803,
but in 1806 exchanged to the army. Through his ac-
quaintance with Wilberforce, he was appointed governor
of Sierra Leone in 1808, but was recalled on account of
his hostility to the slave trade. In 1812 he returned to
his military duties, and, after serving in the south of
France, was in 1815 attached as Arabic interpreter to an
expedition against the Wahhabees of the Persian Gulf, with
whom he negotiated a treaty (dated January 1820) in
which the slave trade was for the first time declared
piracy. He was promoted major in 1825, lieutenant-
colonel in 1829, and major-general in 1854. He entered
parliament as member for Hull in 1835, and afterwards
sat for Bradford. He took a prominent part in the corn-
law agitation, his Catechism .of the Corn Laws (1827)
being by far the most effective pamphlet published on
the subject. He was joint-editor of the Westminster Review,
to which he contributed a large number of articles, repub-
lished in 1824 in six volumes, under the title Exercises,
Political and Others. His mathematical publications were
.of a somewhat eccentric kind. He published a Theory of
Parallels (1844), and was also the author of Geometry
without Axioms, in which he endeavoured to "get rid"
of axioms and postulates. His new Theory of Just Intona-
tion (1850) is, however, a contribution of great value to
the science of musical acoustics, and has gone through
many editions. It may be said to form the basis of the
tonic sol-fa system of music. He died 6th October 1869. I
THOMSON, Sir Charles Wvville (1830-1882), was '
born at Bonsyde, Linlithgowshire, became professor of ,
natural history in Aberdeen, Cork, Belfast, and finally
Edinburgh, and will be specially remembered as a student |
of the biological conditions of the depths of the sea. I
Being interested in crinoids, and stimulated by the results
of the dredgings of Sars in the deep sea off the Norwegian |
coasts, which had conclusively disposed .of the error of
Edward Forbes, that animal life ceased at a depth of a.
few hundred fathoms, he succeedea, along with Dr \V. B.
Carpenter, in obtaining the loan of H.M.S. "Lightning"
and " Porcupine," for successive deep-sea dredging expedi-
tions in the summers of 1868 and 1869. It was thus
shown that animal life existed in abundance down to
depths of 650 fathoms, that all invertebrate groups were
represented (largely by Tertiary forms hitherto believed ^
to be extinctV and, moreover, that deep-sea temperatures
are by no neens "^o constant as was supposed, but vary ^
THOMSON
311
'considerably, and indicate an oceanic circulation. , Further
dredging expeditions at greater and greater depths fol-
'lowed. The remarkable results gained for hydrography
as well as zoology, in association with the practical needs
'of ocean telegraphy, soon led to the granting of H.M.S.
" Challenger " for a circumnavigating expedition, and
(Thomson sailed at the end of 1872 as director of the
iscientilic staff, the cruise lasting three years and a half.
On bis return ha received many academic honours, and
was knighted.' In 1877 he published two volumes of a
preliminary account of the results, of the voyage, mean-
while carrying on his administrative labours in connexion
with the disposition of the si^ecial collections and publi-
cation of the monographs of these. ^ His health, never
robust, was meanwhile giving way; from 1S79 he ceased
to perform the duties of his chair, and he died in 1882.
Sec obituary notice in Prcx R("j. Stx. 3lin., 18S3, also Thorn-
ton's yomge o/ I{ ^fS. Chnllcnger, Lojidon, 1877, and Thoni-
•on and Murray, Rtports of the Voyage of H. U.S. Challenger, Edin-
burgh, 18S5 ' " J
■^ THOMSON, James ^■(1700-1748),-'authorfof"v The
Seasons, was a" native of the Scottish Border country,
his father being successively minister of the parishes of
Ednam and Southdean, in Roxburghshire. ^ He was born at
Ednam on September 11, 1700, and was reared at a dis-
tance from the social influences and literary fashions that
helped to form and fix the manner of the " classical "
»chool, the monotony of which he was the first to break.
Amidst the ban; breezy hills and glens of a Border parish,
bis youth was safe against the a.scendency of the taste
established in the metropolis. Jedburgh school and
Edinburgh university gave him his book learning of the
ordinary type ; and he was fortunate enough to have
neighbours of extraordinary accomplishment,"who opened
his eyes to the poetic side of nature, and encouraged him
in verse-making. The teacher from wliom he learnt most
was a Mr Riccalton, or Riccaulton, a graduate of Edin-
burgh, who had taken to farming, but was afterwards
persuaded to enter the church, and made some contribu-
tions to theological literature. This scholarly enthusiast
taught Latin to the boys of Jedburgh in an aisle of the
church, and encouraged Thomson in his poetical turn by
example as well as precept. We have the poet's own
acknowledgment that the first hint of the Seasons came
from a striking dramatic poem by Riccaulton entitled A
Winter's Day. .- As a schoolboy Thomson wrote verses,
and at the university he continued the practice, but his
early efforts were not particularly promising. „ He was
intended for the ministry, and was for five years a student
of divinity ; but in 1725 he determined to follow his
friend and classfellow David Mallet to London, and seek
his fortune there. Through the influence of Lady Grizel.
Baillie, herself a song-writer, he obtained a tutorship in
the family of Lord Binning ; but the plain-looking and
plain-mannered poet had not the adroitness of his friend
Mallet, and he gave up the post after a few months. It
,was while he lingered in the neighbourhood of Barnet,
without employment, without money, with few friends,
saddened by the loss of his mother (his father had died
when he was eighteen), that Thomson conceived the idea of
the first of his poems on the Seasons, Winter. The lines —
^ Welcome, kindred glooms,
; Congenial horrors, hail ! ,
came from'tbe heart; they expressed his own* forlorn'
mood on the approach of the winter of 1725. ? Winter
appeared in the spring of 172G. A publisher, Millan, — not
Millar, who afterwards published for him, — gave him three
guineas for the poem. The tradition is that it attracted
no notice for a month, but that, at the end of that time, a
litefary clergyman, WTiatley, chanced to take it up from a
bookseller's counter, and at once rushed off to the coffe&-
I houses to proclaim the discovery of a new poet The'
town received the di.";covcry with acclamation ; in anotlier,
month a second edition was called for. No time could
have been better suited for the appreciation of Thomson's
striking qualities; they wer« bO entirely unlike what the
public had for many years been accu-.toined to. The fresh
treatment of a .simple theme, the warm poetical colouring
of commonplace incidents, the freedom and irregularity
of the plan, the boldness of the descriptions, the manly
and sincere sentiment, the rouyh vigour of the verse, took
t by surprise a generation accustomed to witty satire and
burlesque, refined diction, translations from the classics,
themes valued in proportion to their remoteness from
vulgar life. Thomson at once became iamous, and, his
naturally easy temper roused to full exertion, vigorously
followed up his success with Summer and an OJe to the
Memory of Sir Isaac Newton Spring was completed and
published in 1728. A longer interval elapsed before the
appearance of Autumn; it v^as published in 1730, and
followed presently by a handsome edition of the whole
four Seasom. Meantime, drawn into the ardent political
strife of the time, he had produced, in 1729, bis Britannia,
and early in 1730 had made his first attem[it as a dramatist
with Sophonisba. From this time there was a manifest
slackening either in his will or in his power to produce.
He was appointed ' travelling tutor to the son of Sir
Charles Talbot, travelled with his pupil on the Continent,
and in 1733 obtained a small sinecure in the Court of
Chancery. It may have been this removal of the spur of
necessity that made him take longer over his poerns.^, But
it is a fair theory that tK4 rigid taste of the time for
finish, which he had unconsciously defied with triumphant
results, began to make good an ascendency over him, and
that he wrote less because "be was cramped by fear of the
critics. None of the other Seasons have the same large
and careless freedom as ITinter ; Autumn especially, the
last of them, is much n^re laboured, and his revisions
and enlargements in successive editions show an anxious
ambition after the finish of the classical school. ~ How-'
ever this" may be, he hesitated long over his next^poem,'
Liberty ; the first part was published in 1734 and the
conclusion in 1736. He intended it to be his masterpiece,
but with all his care and pains it has fallen into deserved
oblivion. In 1737 he lost his sinecure by the death of his
patron, but was recompensed by a pension from the prince..
Poverty, rather than natural fitness or inclination, drove
him again to dramatic composition. _ Agamemnon was
produced in 1738, with indifferent success., , Next year a
play, written in the interest of the prince and the oppo-
sition, was interdicted by the lord chamberlain. The
masque of Alfred, written by Thomson in conjunction
with Mallet, and containing the song Jiule Britannia, was
produced in 1740, Tancred and Sigismunda in 1745./ A
year before this last event the " poetical posture " of the
poet's income was improved by his appointment to the
sinecure office of surveyor-general of the Leeward Islands.
The Castle of Indolence was his last work. It was not
published till the year of his death (1748), but he had
been long engaged" upon it. The poem is full of character
and humour, with here and there passages of^laborately
rich description ; it is fuller than any other of the person-!
ality of the poet, of the good-nature, generosity, and solid,
wisdom which gained him the affection of so many friends ;
but still it is in the Seasons, and especially in the first of
them, that Thomson is seen at his best and strongest
Till the advent of Scott and Byron, Thomson was the most)
widely popular poet in our language; and as late as the middia
of this century a sumptuous edition, illustrated by the Etching
Club wa.? printed three times within ten years (1842-52). The
popular verdict on Thomson has been unanimously JustS6ed by
critics. ^<W.'M.) '
312
THOMSON
THOMSON, Jambs (1834-1882), author of Tht City 0/
Dreadful Night, \ras born at Port Glasgow, in Renfrew-
shire, on November 23, 1834, the eldest child of a mate
in the merchant shipping service. Hia mother was a
deeply religious woman of the Irvingite sect, and it is not
ifoprobable that it was from' her the son inherited his
sombre and imaginative temperament On her death,
James, then in his seventh year, was procured admission
into the Caledonian Orphan Asylum, from which he went
oaf into the world as an assistant army schoolmaster.
At the garrison at Ballincollig, near Cork, he encountered
the one brief happiness of his life- he fell passionately in
love with, and was in turn as ardently loved by, the
daughter of the armourer-sergeant of a regiment in the
garrison, a girl of very exceptional beauty and cultivated
mind. Two years later, when Thomson was at the
training college at Chelsea, he suddenly received news
of her fatal illness and deatL The blow prostrated him
in mind and body ; and the former endured a hurt from
which it never really recovered. Henceforth his life was
one of gloom, disappointment, misery, and poverty, rarely
alleviated by episodes of somewhat brighter fortune. While
in Ireland he had made the acquaintance of Mr Charles
Bradlaugh, then a soldier stationed at Ballincollig, and it
was .under his auspices (as editor of the London Investi-
gator) that Thomson first appealed to the pnbUc as an
author, though actually his earliest publication was in
Tail's Edinburgh Magazine for July 1858, under the signa-
ture " Crepusculus." In 1860 was established the paper
with which Mr Bradlaugh has been so long identified,.
The National Jt^ormer, and it was here, among other
productions, by James Thomson, that appeared (1863) the
powerful and Eionorous verses " To our Ladies of Death,"
and (1874) hia chief work, the sombre and imaginative
City ofDrmdful Night. In October 1862 Thomson left
the army, and through Mr Bradlaugh (with whom for
some Subsequent years he lived) gained employment as
a solicitor's clerk. In 1869 he enjoyed what has been
described as his " only reputable appearance in respect-
able literary society," in the acceptance of his long poem,
"Sunday up the River," for Fraeer't Magazine, on the
advics, it is said, of Charles Kingsley. In 1872 Thomson
went to the Western States of America, as the agent of the
shareholders in what he ascertained to be a fraudulent
silver mine , and the following year he received a com
mission from The New York World to go to Spain as ita
special correspondent with the Carlists. During the two.
months of his stay in that distracted country he saw little
real fighting, and was himself prostrated by a sunstroke.
On his return to England he continued to write in The
Secularist and The National Reformer, under the at last
well-known initials " B. V " 1 In 1875 he severed his con-
nexion with The National Reformer, owing to a disagree-
ment with its editor , henceforth his chief source of income
(1875-1881) was from the monthly periodical known as
Cope's Tobacco Plant. Chiefly through the exertions of
hia friend and admirer, Mr Bertram Dobell, Thomson's
best known book, The City of Dreadful Night, and other
Poems, was published in April .1880, and at once attracted
wide attention ; it was succeeded in the autumn by Vane's
Story, and other Poems, and in the follomng year by
Essays and Phantanes. AH his best work was produced
between 1855 and 1875 ("The Doom of a City," 1857 ,
"Our Ladies of Death," 1861 , Weddah and Om-el-
£onain . " The Naked Goddess," 1866-7 ; The City of
Dreadful Night, 1870-74). In his latter years Thomson
too often sought refuge from his misery of mind and body
' Bysshe Vanolia ; *' Bysshe," as the commonly used Christian name
of Shelley, Thomson's favourite writer ; and " Vanolis," an anagram
of NoraliSf'the pseudonym of F von HABDEyBKBO (q.v.).
in the Lethe of opium and alcohoL His mortal illnesk
came upon him in the iouse of « poet friend ; and he' was
conveyed to University College hospital, in Gower Street,
where shortly after he died {June 3, 1882). He was
buried at Highgate cemetery, in the same grave, in uncon-
secrated ground, at his friend Austin Holyoake.
To the productions of James "Biomson already mAitioned may
be added the posthumoos volntne entitled A Vakc from the Nile,
and other Poems <1884), which has the advantage of Mr Bertram
Dobell's valnable prefatoi^? memoir and an etthcd portrait of the
poet This volume contains much that is interesting, hnt nothing
to increase Ihomson's reputaticte. If an attempt be made to point
to the most apparent literary relationship of the author oi The
City ef Dreadful Night, one might venture the suggestion that
James Thomson was a yotmger brother of De Qoinc^ If he haa
distinct a&aity to any writer it is to the author of Suspiria de
Profundia ; if we look further afield, we might perhaps discern
shadowy prototypes in Leopardi, Heine, and Bandelaire. But,
after all, 'Thomson holds so unique a place as a poet that the effort
at classification may well be dispensed with*. If he maintains his
own lonely little height, it will be as a distinct individuality.
His, it is absolutely certain, was no literary pessimism, no assumed
gloom. The poem "Ii^omnia" is ft -distinct chapter of bio-
graphy; and in "Mater Tcnebrarum '- and elsewhere among hia
writings self-revelative passages are frequent. The meriCs of
Thomson's poetry are its imaginative powei, its sombre intensity,
its sonorous music ; to these characteristics may be added, in his
lighter pieces, a Heine-like admixture of strange gaiety, pathos, and
caustic irony. Much the same may be said of his best prose. His
faults are a monotony of epithet, the not infrequent use of mere
rhetoric and verbiage, and perhaps a prevailing lack of the sense
of form ; to these may be added an occasional vulgar recklessness
of expression, aa in parts of Van^s Story and in some of his
prose writings. Time will reduce his noteworthy work within a
narrow compass, bat within that limit it will be found as remark-
able as it is unique.
THOMSON, John (1778-1840), amateur landscape
painter — Thomson of Dndding8ton,< as he is commoiily
styled, — was born on September 1, 1778, at Dailly, Ayr-
shire. His father, grandfather, and, as we are informed,
great-grandfather ako, were clergymen of the Church of
Scotland. The father determined that hie son should
follow the ancestral profession, aind, greatly against his
natural bent, — for all his thoughts turned instinctively
towards art, — he acceded to the parental wish. He studied
in the university of Edinburgh ; and, residing with his
elder brother, Thomas Thomson, afterwards celebrated as
an antiquarian and feudal lawyer, he made, the acquaint-
ance of Francis Jeffrey and other young members of the
Scottish bar afterwards notable. The pursuit of art, how-
ever, was not abandoned ; during the recess he sketched
in the country, and, while attending his final college
session, he studied for a month under Alexander Nasmytlii-
After his father's death he became, in 1 800, his successor
as minister of Dailly; and in 1805 he was translated
to the parish of Duddingston, close to Edinburgh. Tie
practice of art was now actively resumed, and it came to
be continued throughout life — apparently without any
very great detriment to pastoral duties. Thomson's popu-
larity as' a painter increased with his increasing artistic
skill ; and, having mastered his initial scruples against
receiving artistic fees, on being offered £15 for a land-
scape— reassured by " Grecian " Williams's stout assertion
that the work was " worth thrice the amount " — the
minister of Duddingston began to dispose of the produc-
tions of his brush in the usual manner. In 1830 he was
made an honorary member of the Royal Scottish Academy.
Besides that of art, Thomson had other singularly varied
tastes and aptitudes. He was an accomphshed performer
on violin and flhte, an exact and weB-read student of
physical science, and one of the writers pn optics in the
early numbers of the Edinburgh Review. His life passed
peacefully away in the kindly and charitable discharge of
his clerical duties, varied by the enthusiastic pursuit of bit
art, and the enjoyment of intercourse with a singularly
T H O — T H O
313
wide and eminent circle of friends, which, among artists,
included Turner and Wilkie, and among men of letters
Yillson and Scott, — the latter of -whom desired that
'Ehomson, instead of Turner, should have illustrated the
lollecteJ edition of his works. He died at Duddingston
< n the 27 th of October 1810 (not the 20th, as stated by
I ame authorities). Thomson was thrice married, and his
t'Mond wife, the widow of Mr Dalrymple of Cleland, was
herself also a skilful amateur artist.
Thomson holds an honourable position as the first powerful
landscapist that Scotland produced, and he is still among her
greatest. His styled was founded, in the first instance, upon
Se practice of the Dutch masters ; but ultimately he submitted
to the influence of the Poussins and the Italians, rightly believ-
ing that their method — in the richer solemnity of its colour and
the deeper gravity of its chiaroscuro — was more truly fitted for
the portrayal of the scenery of Scotland, more in harmony with
the gloom and the glory of its mountains and its glens and tho
passion of its wave-vexed diifs. But to the study of the art of the
past he joined a close and constant reference to nature which kept
his own work fresh and original, though, of course, he never even
approached such scientific accuracy in the rendering of natural
form and effect as is expected from even the tyro in our recent
■chools of landscape. His art is clearly distinguished by "style" ;
at their best, his works show skilful selection in the leading Unes
of their composition and admirable qualities of abstract colour and
'^e. Thomson is fairly represented in the Scottish National
Gallery ; and the Aberlady Bay of that collection, with the soft
infinitv of its clouded grey sky, and its sea which leaps and falls
again in waves of sparkling and of shadowed, silver, is fit to rank
among the triumphs of Scottish art.
THOR, See iEsiE, vol. L p. 210, and Mtthology,
Tol. xviL p. 156.
THOREAU, Henby David (1817-1862), one of the
most Etrongly-marked individualities of modem times,
spent the greater part of his life in the neighbourhood of
the place where he was bom — C!oncord, a village town of
Massachusetts, pleasantly situated some twenty miles north-
west of Boston, amidst a pastoral country of placid beauty.
To Horeau this Concord country contained all of beauty
and even grandeur that was necessary to the worshipper
of nature : he once journeyed to Canada ; he went west on
one occasion ; he sailed and explored a few rivers ; for the
rest, he haunted Concord and its neighbourhood as faith-
fully as the stork does its ancestral nest. John Thoreau, his
father, who married the daughter of a New England clergy-
man, was the son of a John Thoreau of the isle of Jersey,
who, in Boston) married a Scottish lady of the name of Bums.
This last-named John was the son of Philippe Thoreau and
his wife Marie le Gallais, persons of pure French blood,
•ettled at St Helier, in Jersey. From his New England
Puritan mother, from his Scottish grandmother, from' his
Jersey-American grandfather, and from his remoter French
ancestry Thoreau inherited distinctive traits : the Saxon
element perhaps predominated, but the " hauntings of
Celtism " were prevalent and potent. The stock of the
Thoreaus was a robust one ; and in Concord the family,
though never wealthy nor officially influential, was ever
held in peculiar respect. As a boy, Henry drove his
mother's cow to the pastures, and thus early became
enamoured of certain aspects of nature and of certain
delights of solitude. At school and at Harvard university
le m nowise distinguished himself, though he was an
intelligently receptive student ; he became, however, pro-
ficient enough in Greek, Latin, and the more general
acquirements to enable him to act for a time as a master.
But long before this he had become apprenticed to the
learning of nature in preference to that of man : when only
twelve years of age he had made collections for Agassiz,
who had then just arrived in America, and already the
meadows and the hedges and the stream-sides had become
cabinets of rare knowledge to him. On the desertion
of schoolmastering aa a profession Thoreau became a
lacturer and author, though it was the labour of his hands
23— la*
which mainly supported him through many years of Lis
life 5 professionally he was a surveyor. In the effort to
reduce the practice of economy to a fine art he arrived at
the conviction that the less labour a man did, over and
above the positive demands of necessity, the better for him
and for the community at large ; he would have had the
order of the week reversed, — six days of rest for one of
labour. It was in 1845 he made the now famous experi-
ment of Walden. Desirous of proving to himself and
others that man could be as independent of his kind as the
nest-building bird, Thoreau retired to a hut of his own
construction on the pine-slope over against the shores of
Walden Pond, — a hut which he built, furnished, and kep*
in order entirely by the labour of his own hands. During
the two years of his residence in Walden woods be lived
by the exercise of a little surveying, a little job-work, and
the tillage of a few acres of ground which produced him
his beans and potatoes. His absolute independency was
as little gained as if he had camped out in Hyde Park ;
relatively he lived the life of a recluse. He read consider-
ably, wrote abundantly, thought actively if not widely,
and came to know beasts, birds, and fishes with an intimacy
more extraordinary than was the case with St Francis of
AssisL Birds came at his call, and forgot their hereditary
fear of man ; beasts lipped and caressed him ; the very
fish in lake and stream would glide, nnfearful, between
his hands. This exquisite familiarity with bird and beast
would make us love the memory of Thoreau, if his egotism
were triply as arrogant, if his often meaningless paradoxes
were even more absurd, if his sympathies were even less
humanitarian than we know them to have been. His
Walden, the record of this fascinating two years' experi-
ence, must always remain a production of great interest
and considerable psychological value. Some years before
Thoreau took- to Walden woods he made the chief friend-
ship, of his life, that with Emerson. He became one of
the famous circle of the transcendentalists, always keenly
preserving his own individuality amongst such more or less
potent natures as Emerson, Hawthorne, and Margaret
Fuller. From Emerson he gained more than from any
man, alive or dead ; and, though the older philosopher
both enjoyed and learned from the association with the
younger, it cannot be said that the gain was equal. There
was nothing electrical in Thoreau's intercourse with his
fellow-men ; he gave off no spiritual sparks. He absorbed
intensely, but when called upon to illuminate in turn was
found wanting. It is with a sense of relief that we read
of his having really been stirred into active enthusiasm
anent the wrongs done the ill-fated John Brown. With
children he was affectionate and gentle, with old people
and strangers considerate. In a word, he loved his kind
as animals, but did not seem to find them as interesting as
those furred and feathered. In 1847 Thoreau left Walden
Lake abruptly, and for a time occupied himself with lead-
pencil making, the parental trade. He never married,
thus further fulfilling his policy of what one of his essayist-
biographers has termed " indulgence in fine renounce-
ments." At the comparatively early age of forty-five he
died, on 6th May 1862. His grave is in the beautiful
cemetery of Sleepy Hollow, beside those of Hawthorne
and Emerson.
Thoreau's fame will rest on Walden, the Exmrsions, and his
Letters, though he wrote nothing which is not deserving of notice.
Up till his thirtieth year he dabbled in verse, but he had little ear
for metrical music, and ho lacked the spiritual impulsiveness of the
true poet. He had occasional flashes of insight and -could record
beautifully, notwithstanding : his little poem "Haze" is surcharged
with concentrated loveliness. His weakness as a philosopher is his
tendency to base the laws of the universe on the eiperienoe-botn
thought-produced convictions of one man — himself. His weaknes'
as a writer is the too frequent striving after antithesis and paradox.
If he had had all his own originality withojit the itch of appea""'-'
314
T H O — T H O
original, he would have made his fascination irresistible. As it is,
Thoreau holds a unique place. He was a naturalist, but absolutely
devoid of the pedantry of science ; a keen observer, but no retailer
of disjointed facts. He thus holds sway over two domains : he
has the adherence of the lovers of fact and of the children of fancy.
He must always be read, whether Icwingly or interestedly, for he
has all the variable charm, the strange saturninity, the contradic-
tions, austerities, and delightful surprises, of Nature herself.
See W. E. Channiag, Thoreau the Poet Naturaliit, Boston, 1873; F. B San-
bom, Biography o/ 7"/,oreati (American Men of Letters Senes) ; 11. A. Page, Bto-
'ffraphyof Thoreau; Emerson, Introduction to Exaintoru \ J. Russell Lowell, My
Study \rindou>i: Will. H. Dlrcka, Introduction to Walden ; Professor Nicltol,
Awuncan Literature, pp. 312 sq. ; Mr Burrouphs ; Mr Henry James, &c. After
Thoreau's death were published (besides the Ezcursiont. 1863) The Maine
IFoods (1864) ; Capt Cod (1865): Letters anti Foeim [1&G5) ; A Yankee in Canada
0866). In the Attantu Monthly, In 1862, appeared " Walking." " Autumn Tints."
and " Wild Apples"; in 1863 "Night and Moouligbt." His best known work,
Waldm, constitutes the second volume o^ the series called Tlie Camelot Ctassici ;
otherwise Tboreau's productions are not widely known In Britain.
THORIUM, m chemistry, is the name of the as yet
UDisolated radicpl of thona, one of the now numerous
" rai'j earths." Thoria was (discovered by Berzelius in 1828
in the mineral now called thorite. It is present also in
pyrochlor, monazite, orangite, and euxenite. Being similar
to the oxides TiO, and Zr02 of titanium and zirconium,
thoria IS assumed to be a binoxide ThOj. The atomic
weight, according to Cleve, is Th = 233, 0 being 16
THORN (Polish Torun), an interesting old town in the
province of West Prussia, is situated on the right b.iiik of
the Vistula, near the point where the river enters Prussian
territory, 26 miles southeast of Bromberg and 92 miles
south of D.antzic. Its position near the frontier of
Russian Poland makes it a strategic point of importance ;
and, strongly fortified since 1818, in 1878 it was converted
into a fortress of the first class. ' The " old town," founded
in 1231, and the "new town," founded thirty-three years
later, were united in 1454, and both retain a number of
quaint buildings dating from the 15th and 16th centuries,
when Thorn was a flourishing member of the Hanseatic
League. The town-house, of the 14th and 16th centuries,
the churches of St John and the Virgin, with aisles as
lofty as the nave, the ruined castle of the Teutonic order,
and the gates, leaning tower, and fragments of the walls,
all of the 13th century, are among the most interesting
edifices. The ancient wooden bridge, now burned down,
at one time the only permanent bridge across the lower
Vistula, has been succeeded by a massive iron railway
viaduct, half a mile long. Thorn carries on an active
trade in grain, timber, wine, colonial wares, and iron, and
has manufactures of leather, bats, starch, candles, and
numerous other articles. It is famous for its " Pfefler-
kuchen," a kind of gingerbread. Part of the trade is
carried on by vessels en the Vistula. In 1885 the popu-
lation was 23,914 (in 1816 7909), about three-fifths
being Protestants and two-fifths (chiefly Poles) Roman
Catholics.
Tliorn, founded in 1231 by the Teutonic order as an outpost
against the Poles, was colonized mainly from Westphalia. The
fir.st peace of Thorn, between the order and the Poles, was con-
■cluded in 1411. In 1454 the townspeople revolted from the
knights of the order, destroyed their castle, and attached them-
selves to the king of Poland. This resulted in a war, which was
terminated in 1466 by the second peace of Thorn. In the 15th
and 16th centuries Thorn was a Hanse town of importance, and
received the titles of "queen of the Vistula" and "the beautiful."
It embraced the Reformation in 1557, and in 1645 it was the scene
of a "colloquium charitativum," or discussion betwixt the doctors of
the rival creeds, which, however, resulted in no aOTeement. In
1724 a riot between the Protestant and Roman Catholic inhabitants
■was seized upon by the Polish king as a pretext for beheading the
burgoma.ster and nine other leading Protestant citizens, an act of
0T)pres8ion which is known as the "bloodbath of Thorn." The
second partition of Pola. d conferred Thorn upon Prussia; by the
treaty of Tilsit it was assigned to the duchy of Warsaw ; but since
the congress of Vienna it has again been Prussian. Copernicus
was born at Thorn in 147"
THORNBACK is the name given to a species of ray
(Rcfja clavata) which is found all round the coasts of
Europe, and locally abundant ; it derives its name from
the peculiar armature of the skin of its body, the upper
and lower surfaces of the body of the female being armed
with scattered, more or less numerous, large round osseous
bucklers, each with a spine in the centre ; the tail also is
armed with rows of similar bucklers.. In the male fish these
bucklers are absent, or nearly so. The thornback does
not grow to the same large size as the skates, a specimen
three feet across being considered large. It is more valued
as food than the other rays, and consumed in large
quantities, fresh as well as salted.
THORNHILL, -Sir James (1670-1734), historical
painter, was born at Melcombe Regis, Dorset, in 1676,
coming of an ancient but impoverished county family.
His father died while he w:;3 young, but he was befriended
by his maternal uncle, the celebrated Dr Sydenham, and
apprenticed to Thomas Highmore, ■ sergeant-painter to
King William III., a connexion of the Thornhill family.
Little is known regarding his early career. About 1715
he visited Holland, Flanders, and France ; and, having
obtained the patronage of Queen Anne, he was in 1719-20
appointed her serjeant-painter in succession to Highmore,
and was ordered to decorate the interior of the dome of
St Paul's with a series of eight designs, in chiaroscuro
heightened with gold, illustrative of the life of that
apostle, — a commission for which Louis Laguerre had
previously been selected by the commissioners for the
repair of the cathedral. He also designed and decorated
the saloon and hall of Moor Park, Herts, and painted
the great hall at Blenheim, the princesses' apartments at
Hampton Court, the hall and staircase of the Southsea
Company, the chapel at Wimpole, the staircase at
Easton-Neston, Northamptonshire, and the hall at Green-
wich Hospital, usually considered his most important and
successful work, upon which he was engaged from 1708
to 1727 Among his easel pictures are the altar-pieces of
All Souls and Queen's College chapels, Oxford, and that
in Melcombe Regis church ; and he executed such portrait
subjects as that of Sir Isaac Newton, in Trinity College,
Cambridge, and the picture of the House of Commons in
1730, now in the possession of the earl of Hardwicke, in
which he was assisted by Hogarth, who married Jane, his
only daughter. He also produced a few etchings in a
slight and sketchy but effective manner, and executed
careful full-size copies of Raphael's cartoons, which now
belong to the Royal Academy. About 1724 he drew up
a proposal for the establishment of a royal academy of
the arts, and his scheme had the support of the lord
treasurer Halifax, but Government declined to furnish
the needful funds. Thornhill then opened a drawing-
school in his own house in James Street, Covent Garden,
where instruction continued to be given till the time of
his death. He acquired a considerable fortune by his art,
and was enabled to repurchase his family estate of Thorn-
hill, Dorsetshire. In 1715 he was knighted by George I.,
and m.l719 he represented Melcombe Regis in parlia-
ment, a borough for which Sir Christopher Wren had
previously been member. Having been removed from his
office by some court intrigue, and suffering from broken
health and repeated attacks of gout, he retired to his
country seat, where he died on the 4th of May 1734.
His son James was also an artist. He succeeded his
father as serjeant-painter to George II.. and was appointed
" painter to the navy."
The high contemporary estimate of Sir James Thornhill's works'
has not since been confirmed; in spite of Dr Young, "late times"
do liot
" Dnderstand
'How Rnphael's pencil lives In Thomhlirs hands.
He 13 weak in drawing, — indeed, when dealing with complicated
figures he was assisted by Thomas Gibson; and, ignorant of the
great monumental art of Italy, ho formed himself upon the lowai
T H O — T H 0
315
model of Le Bmn. It must, however, be admitted that, in the
departments of art which ha chose for" his own, he was the best
native painter of his time.
THORWALDSEN, Bertel (1770-1S44), a very able
Danish sculptor, was the son of an Icelander who had
settled ill Copenhagen, and there carried on the trade of
a wood-carver. While very young, Bertel Thorwaldsen
learnt to assist his father ; at the age of eleven he entered
the Copenhagen school of art, and soon began to show his
exceptional talents. In 1792 he won the highest prize,
the travelling studentship, and in 1796 he started for Italy
in a Danish man of-war. On the 8th of March 1797 he
arrived in Rome, where Canova was at the height of his
popularity. Thorwaldsen's first success was the model for
a statue of Jason, which was highly praised by Canova,
and he received the commission to execute it in marble
from Thomas Hope, a wealthy English art-patron. From
that time Thorwaldsen's success was assured, and he did
not leave Italy for twenty-three years. In 1810 he
returned to Denmark, where he was received with the
greatest enthusiasm. He was there commissioned to make
tha colossal series of statues of Christ and the twelve
apostles which are now in the Fruenkirche in Copenhagen.
These were executed after his return to Rome, and were
not completed till 1838, when Thorwaldsen again returned
to Denmark. He died suddenly in the Copenhagen theatre
in 1844, and bequeathed a great part of his fortune for
the building and endowment of a museum ic Copenhagen,
and also left to fill it all hi% collection of works of art, and
the models for all his sculpture, — a very large collection,
exhibited to the greatest possible advantage. Thor-
waldsen is buried in the courtyard of this museum, under
a bed of roses, by his own special wish.
On the whole Thorwaldsen was the most successful of all the
imitators of classical sculpture, .ind many of his statues of p.igan
deities are modelled with much of the antique feeling for breadlh
and purity of design. His attempts at Christian sculpture, such
as the tomb of Pius VII. in St Peter's\nd the Christ and Apostles
at Copenhagen, are less successful, and were not in accordance
with the sculptor's real sympathies, which were purely classic.
Thorwaldsen's private life was not admirable; he worked some,
tim^ with feverish eagerness ; at other times he was idle for many
months together. Agreatnumber of his best works exist in private
collections in England. His not very successful statue of Lord
Byron, after being refused a place in Westminster Abbey, was
finally deposited in the library of Trinity College, Cambridge.
The most widely popular among Thorwaldsen's works have been
some of his bas-reliefs, such as the Night and the Jloining,
which he is said to have modelled in one day. In the main his
•jiopularity is now n thing of the past, owing chiefly to the reac-
tion against the pseudo-classic style of sculjiture.
A wcll-illustralcJ occnunt of TIinrwaHsen and his works is given by Eugfenc
rion. T/ioncald^fn.sa I'lV. ±c.. P;!n^, ISfiO; see niso Andersen. B. Thoncntdsen,
Bciiin. Ifll.^; Killcrup. Tlioivnlihfu's ArbeiteJi, «kc., Copenhagen, 1852; and
"Thicle. Thorwaldsen' t Ltbeii, Lcipsic. lSoi-56.
THOU, Jacqctes Auguste de (1553-1617), sometimes
known by the Latinized form 'Thuanus, as his great
history is by the name Thuana, was born at Paris on
October 8, 1553. He belonged to a family of distinction
in the Orleanais, of which the elder branch had, he tells
us, been noblesse (Tepee, though, he gives no particulars
except of those who had for some generations been noblesse
de rohe. He and his w;ere closely connected by birth,
marriage, and friendship with several of those great legal
families — the Harlays, the Huraults, the Brularts, the
Lamoignons, . and others — which for many generations
furnished France with by far her most valuable class of
public men. The historian's father was Christophe de
Thou, first president of the parlement of Paris, a man
whose strong legal and religious prejudices against the
Huguenots have rather obscured, in the eyes of historians,
his undoubted ability and probity. Christophe's brothers,
Adrien and Nicolas, were both men of mark, the former
being also a lawyer, and the latter ultimately becoming
bishop of Chartres, in which capacity he " instructed "
Henry IV. at his conversion. De Thou's mother was
Jacqueline Tuleu, dame de Celi. Ho was a-»delicate
child, and seems by his own account to have been rather
neglected by his parents ; perhaps it was for this reason
that, though he grew stronger with age, he was destined
for the church. He took minor orders; and obtained
some benefices. It was, however, to the legal side of the
ecclesiastical profession that he was devoted, and, after
being at school at the College de Bourgogne, he studied
law at Orleans, Bourges, and Valence, being at the last
two [ilaces under the tuition of jurists no less celebrated
than Hotman and Cujas. It was not, however, till he
approached middle life that he definitely renounced the
clerical profession, married, and accepted lay offices. Meai»-
while he had travelled much and discharged important
duties. In 1573, that he might profit by seeing foreign
parts, he was attached to the suite of Paul de Foix, who
was sent on a circular mission of compliment to tha.
Italian princes, and with him De Thou visited Turin,.
Milan, ilantua, Venice, 'Rome, Florence, and many minor
places. On his return he studied for four years, tra-
velling to the Netherlands in the interval, and in 1579
to Germany. Two years later he was appointed to a
royal commission in Guienne, and made the acquaintance
of Henry of Navarre and of Montaigne. He had already
become the friend of most of the eminent men of letters
of the time, from Ronsard downwards, and was particularly
intimate with Pierre Pithou, the soul of the future-<S(i/ire
Menippce. De Thou, by all his sympathies, belonged to
that later and better phase of the politique party which
devoted itself to the maintenance of royalty as the one
hope of France; and, when Henry III.' was driven from
his capital by the violence of the Guises and the League,
De Thou followed him to Blois. After his renunciation of
orders, he had been made, first, master of requests, and
then president d, mortier, which was the highest dignity
he ever attained. After the death of Henry III. he
attached himself closely to his successor, and in 1593 was
appointed (he was a great bibliophile) yrand maitre of the
royal library, in succession to Amyot, the translator of
Plutarch and Longus. It was in this same year that he
began his history, the composition of which was inter-
rupted, not only by his regular official duties, but by
frequent diplomatic missions at home and abroad. Hiq
most important employment of all was on the commission
which, in face of the greatest difficulties on both sides,
successfully carried through the negotiations for the edict
of Nantes. Nor were his duties as a diplomatist inter-
mitted by the death of Henry IV., though the Govern-
ment of Marie de' Medici refused him the place oi premier
president which he desired, and hurt his feelings by
appointing him instead a member of the financial com-
mission which succeeded Sully. This appointnieut he
rather strangely chose to think a degradation. It is, how-
ever, absurd to say that the affair, which he survived six
years, had anything to do with his death. That, as far as
it was hastened by any mental afHiction, seems to have
been rather due to grief at the death of his second wife,,
Gasparde de La Chatre, of whom and of his sons and
daughters by her (his first marriage with Marie de Bar-
bani;on had been childless) he was extremely fond. His
eldest son, Franij-ois Auguste, was the friend of Cinq Mars,
and shared his downfall and fate. But this was a quarter
of a century after De Thou's own death, which happened
on May 7, 1617.
Although a distinguished ornament of France, De Thou has
nothing to do, properly speaking, with Fivncli literature. Besides
minor works in Latin (a uoem ou haivking, some paraidirase^ of
the Bible, &c. ), he wrote also in Latin the great history wliicli has
matle his name known Entitled lllstoriry Siii Tcmporis, it begins
shortly before the authors bath (iu lii6), and extends to \6ii7.
316
T H 0 — T H O
ten years before liis death. The firet part, in eighteen books, was
published in 1604: the second, third, and fourth appeared in IHOe
md the two following years The last part, whieh rankesa total
of 1-38 books, did not appear till 1620, under the eare of tlic author s
friends Rigault and Dupuy, whom he had named his literary
executors. The first named likewise put finoi touches to Dc Thou s
autobiography, which, also written in Latin, appears m French m
most collections of French memoirs. It contains minute details '
of the author's life down to 1607, mixed with rather miscellaneous I
descriptions of interesting places which he had visited (such as I
Mont St Michel, an eagle's eyrie in Dauphine, kc); and its com-
position is said to have been partly detcnnined by the obloquy east
by bigoted adherents of the papacy on the Iltslory. De Thou was |
indeedobnoxious to these on many grounds He had helped to nego- |
tiate the edict of Nantes, he had opposed the acknowledgment m ,
France of the decrees of Trent ; he had been a steady Anti-Leaguer ;
and he was accused of sfteaking in the Bistory itself of Prote.stnnts
and Protestantism, not merely with criminal mildness, but with
something like sympathy. It is needless to say that these hlot-s in
the History have seemed beauties to later and more dispa.ssionate
students. There is no doubt that the charges of partiality on
minor and mostly personal points are either dispiovable oi unim-
portant; and the whole seems to be as fair and as carefully aourate
as at such a time wa-s possible. On the other hand, the work is
undoubtedly planned and executed on much too large a scale, and
the inclusion of events in foreign countries, on winch the author
was often but ill-informed, has not improved it. Hut it is elearly
and on the whole excellently written, and will always he, as far
as any general contemporary history can be so called, the great
authority foi at least the French part of its subject and period. It
"Was first published as a whole wheu, as above mentioned, the last
partapjK'ared in 1620. and.it was .several times reprinted More than
a hundred ycais later, in 1733, an tnglishinau, Samuel Huckley.
working in part on the materials of Thomas Carte, prodinred at
London what is recognized as the standard edition of the original,
in 7 vols, folio. The standard French translation was made im-
mediately afterwards by a croup of literary men. the best known
of whom* were the Ablie Desfoutaincs and Prrvost, the author of
hinntm Lcscauc A choice copy of the first edition of the first part,
with the arms of Henry IV on the binding, is m the British
Museum library
- TnOUSAXD AND ONE NIGHTS. The Thnvsand
ami O'le Nx'jkts, commonly known in Engli.'ih as The
Ariilnnn Ntyhls Eulfrlainmmls, la a collection ol tales
•written in Arabic, which first became generally known m
Kijro|>e in the early part of last rentuiy through the
French translation by Antoine 0.m,lani) ('/.v.), and rapidly
attained such universal poimlarity that it is iinnece.ssary
to describe the contents of the book. But the origin of
the AiiMan Xi'jhts claims discussion in this place In
the Journal Asiutujue for 1827, p. 2.i.3, Von Hammer
drew attention to a passage in the Golden Meadows of
Mas'iJdl (ed. Barbier de Meynard, iv. 89 .s'/.), written in
94.3 A.D., in which certain stories current amon.u; the old
Arabs are compared with "the books which have reached
us in tianslations from Persian, Indian, and Creek, such
as the book of Ihzdr Afsdiw, a title which, translated from
Persian into Arabic, means 'the thousand tales' This
book is popularly called Tht Thousand and One AifjhLs.
and contains the story of the king and his vizier and of
his daughter Shlraz.'id and her slave girl Dln.'izad. Other
books of the .'-.ame kind are the book of Fer:a and Simdf,
containing stories of Indian kings and viziers, the book of
Sindibid, Ac." 'Von Hammer concluded that the Thousand
and One Nigfii-s were of Persian or Indian origin. Against
this conclusion De Sacy protested in a memoir (Mem. de
C Aead. des Inscr.. 1833, X. 30 sq.), demonstrating that the
character of the book we know is genuinely Arabian, and
that it must have been written in Egjpt at a compara-
tively recent date. Von Hammer in reply adduced, in
Joio: As., 1839, ii. p. I7D sq., a.pa-ssago in the Fihnst
(987 A.I).), which is to the following effect; —
"The ancient Persians were the first to invent tales, and make
books of them, and .some of their tales were put in the mouths of
•nimals The Ashghani.ans, or third dynasty of Persian kings,
and after them the Sasainans, had a sfwcial pari in the development
of this literature, which found Arabic translators, and was taken
op by accomplished Arabic literati, who edited it and mutated it.
The earliest book of the kind was the IJciir a/sdn or T)uinsand
Tales, which hail the following origin. A certain Persian king wa»
accustomed to kill his wives on the mnrniiig after the consummation
of the marriage. But once he married a clever princess called
Shahrazad. who spent the marriage night in telling a story which
in the morning reached a point so interesting that the king spared
her. and asked next night for the sequel. This went on for a
thousand nights, till Shahrazad had a son. and ventured to tell
the kingof her device. He admired her intelligence, loved her. and
spared her life In all this the princess was assisted by the king's
stewardess Pinaiad This book is said to have hern written for
the princess Homai (MSS. Hom,ini), daughter of Bahman. . . It
contains nearly two hundred stories, one story often occupying
several nights. 1 have repeatedly seen the complete book, bnt it
IS really a meagre and uninteresting proiluction " iFihrist, ed.
Flugd, p. 304).
Per.\ian tradition (in Firdausi) makes Princess Hom4i
the daughter and wife of Bahman Ardashlr, i.f., Artaxerxes
I. Longimanus. She is depicted as a great builder, a kind
of Persian Semiramis, and is a half-mythical personage
already mentioned in the A vesta, but her legend seems-
to be founded on the history of Atossa and of Parysatis.
Firdausi .says that she was also called Shabraz,id (Mohl,
V. II). This name and that of DinAz.id both occur in
what Mas'ildl tells of her. According to him, ShahrazAd
was Hom^i's mother (ii. 129), a Jewessfii \'2'^) Bahman
had married a Jewess (i. 118), who was in.struiuental in
delivering her nation from captivity. In ii. 122 this
Jewish maiden who did her people tjiij service is called
DinAz.'ld, but " the accounts," says our author, " vary "
Plainly .she is the Esther of Jewish story Tabarf (i 68S)
calls Esther the mother of Bahman, and, like Firdausf,
gives to Ho'iA' the name of Shahraz-ld. The story of
Esther and that of the original Kighls have in fact one
main feature in common. In the former the king is-
offended with his wife, and divorces her, in the Aruhian
Niijhti he linds her unfaithful, and kills her. But both
stories agree that thereafter a new wife was brought to-
him every night, and on the mornnv pas-sed into the second
house of the women (Esther), or was slain (Xx/hts). At
length Esther or Shahraz.-ld wins his heart and becomes-
qiieen. The issue in the Jewish story is that Esther saves
her people ; in the Nights the gainers are " the daughters
of tlie Moslems," but the old story had, of course, some
other word than " Moslems." Esther's foster-father be-
coims vizier, and Shaliraz.'ld's father is also vizier .Shah-
razad's plan is helped forward in the Nights by Dinaz.id,
who IS. according to Mas'iidl, her slave girl, or, according^
to other MSS., her nurse, and, according to the Fihnst,
the king's stewardess. The hust account comes nearest to
l-^stlitT II. \f^. where Esther gains the favour of the king's
cli;iinberlain, keeper of the women It is also to be noted
that Ahasuerus is read to at night when he canma sleep
(Esther vi 1) And it is just possible that it is worth
notice that, though the name of Ahasuerus corresponds to
Xerxes, Josephus identities him with Artaxerxes I.
Now It may be taken as admitted ttmt the loi.k of
Esther wa-s written in Persia, or by one who had lived in
Persia, and not earlier than the 3d rentuiy B.C. If non-
there IS real weight in the points of contact between lhi»
story and the Arahan N^ighls—a.nd the points of difference
cannot be held to outweigh the resemblances between two-
legends, each of whtch is necessarily so far removed from
the hypothetical common source — the inference is import-
ant lor both stories. On the one band, it appears that
(at least in part) the book of Esther draws on a Pcr.-.ian
source ; on the other hand, it becomes probable that the
Nights are older than the SisAnian period, to which Lane,
iii. G77, refers them.
It IS a piece of good fortune that Mas'rtdl and th(^
Fikrist give us the information cited above. For in
general the Moslems, though very fun. I of .stones, are
ashamed to recognize them a-s objects of literary curiosity.
In fact, the next iiienlion o( the Nighis is found only after
T H O — T HO
317
a lapse of three centuries. Ma^rfzl, describing the capital
of Egypt, quotes froma work of Ibn Sa'fd (c. 1250 A.D.),
who again, cites an older author (AI-Kortob(), who, in
speaking of a love affair at the court of the caliph Al-Amir
(1097-1130),- says "what is told about it resembles the
romance of Al-Battil, or the Thousm\d and One Nights "•
{Hita\ Tdlife ed.,1 485, ii. 181). '
That ihei Nights which we have are not the original trans-'
lation of the Hezdr Afsdne is certain, for the greater part
of the stories are of Arabian origin, and the whole is so
thoroughly Mohammedan that even the princes of remote
ages who are introduced speak and act as Moslems. It
might be conceived that this is due to a gradual process of
modernization by successive generations of story-tellers.
But against this notion, which has been entertained by
some scholars. Lane has remarked with justice that, much
as MSS. of the Nights differ from one another in points of
language and style, in tlio order of the tales, and the
division into nights, ' they are all so much at one ^in
essentials that they must bo regarded as derived from a
single original. There is no trace of a recension of the
text that can be looked on as standing nearer to the Hezdr
'Afsdne. And the whole local colour of the work, in point
of dialect and also as regards the manners and customs
described, clearly belongs to Egypt as it was from the
14th to. the 16th century. Some points, as De Sacy and
Lane have shown, forbid us to place the book earlier
than the second half of the 15th century. Galland's MS.
copy, again, was in existence in 1548. Lane accordingly
dates the work from the close of the 15th century or the'
beginning of the 16th, but this date appears to be too
late. For Abu'l-Mahasin, an Egyptian historian who died
in 1470, writing of Hamdi, a famous highwayman of
Baghdad in the 10th century, remarks that he is probably
the figure whp used to be popularly spoken of as Ahmed
al-Danaf (ed. Juynboll, ii. 305). Now in the "Nights
Ahmed al-Danaf really plays a part corresponding to that
of the historical Haradi, being now a robber (Lane, ii.
404) and again a captain of the guard (Lane, ii. 249).
It would seem that Abu'l-Mahdsin had read or heard tlie
stories in the Nights, and was thus led to compare the
historical with the fictitious character. And, if this be so,
the' Nights must have been composed very soon after
1450.1 -
No doubt the' iVi^Afe have borrowed ~much from the
Hezdr Afsdne, and it is not improbable that even in the
original Arabic translation of that work some of the Per-
sian stories were replaced by Arab ones. But that our
Nights differ very much from the Hezdr Afsdne is further
manifest from the circumstance that, even of those stories
in the Nights which are not Arabian in origin, some are
borrowed . from books mentioned by Mas'udi as distinct
from the Hezdr Afsdne. Thus the story of the lyng and
his son and the damsel and the seven viziers (Lane, chap.
xxi. note 51) is in fact a version of the Book of Sindbdd,-
while the story of JaU'dd and his son and the vizier
Shammis (M'Naghten, iv. 366 sq.; cf. Lane, iii. 530)"
corresponds to the book of Ferza and Simds?
" Not a few of the tales are unmistakably of Indian'^or
* The hypothesis of gradual and complete modernisation is also
opposed to the fact that the other romances used by Caireno story-
tellers (dbch as those of 'Antar and of Saif) retain their original
local colour through all variations of language and style.
t ' On this famous book, the Syriac Sindibdn, the Greek Syntipas]'
ind the Seven Sages of the European West, see Stbjao Litkbaturb
(vol. xxii. p. 850) and Spain (vol. xxii. p. 354).
'Da Sacy and Lane suppose that the original title of the'Arabic
translation of the BezAr A/sdne was The Thousand Nights. But most
MSS. of Ma'iMdi already have The Thcnisand and One Nights, which
l6 also the name given by Makrizi. Both ciphers perhaps mean only
i^a very great number," and Fieischer {De Olossis Ilahicktianis, p. 4)
tus shown that 1001 is certainly used in this teose.
! Persian "origin,'"and- in'these'^poeticarpassages are.rarely
inserted. In other stories '.'the ^^ scene ilies in Persia or
' India, andj the source is foreign, but^ the / treatment
thoroughly Arabian an,d Mohammedani' Sometimes, -in-
deed, traces of Indian origin are perceptible, even in stories
in wliich HAriin al-Rashid figures and the scene is Bagh-
dad or Basra.* ; put most of ^ the tales, in ^substance and
form alike, are'Arabian,''and'so'many of them!hav6*the
capital of the caliphs as the''scene of action that it 'may
be guessed that the author used as one of his sources I a
book of tales taken from the era of Baghdad's prosperity, j
The late date of the 'Nights appears from sundry ktia-
chronisms. f In the story'of the men transformed into fist'—
white, blue,'yellow,'or'rod according' as they were Moslems,'
Christians, Jews,'ior''Magians'(Lane,^i.^9y), — the :first
three colours are those' of theVturbans' which, in 1301,
Mohammed b. Keldiin of Egypt commanded his Moslem,
Christian, => and Jewish ^subjects '7 respectively . to^wear.^
Again, in the story of the humpback, whose scene is laid
in the 9th century, the talkative barber say.s, " this is the
year 653" (=1255 a.C; Lane,' i. 332, writes 263, but
see his' note), and mentions the'^caliph Mostansir '(died
-1242), who is incorrectly called son of Mostadl.^ jIn the
same story several places in Cairo are mentioned which
did not exist till long after the 9th, century (see Lane, i.
379).', The very rare edition'of the first 200 nights pub-
lished at Calcutta in 1814 speaks of cannon, which are
first mentioned in Egypt in 1383; and all editions some-
times speak of coffee, which was discovered towards the
end of the 14th century, but" not generally used till 200
years later.' In this and other points, e.g., in the mention
of a mosque founded in 1501 (Lane, iii. 608), we detect
fhe hand of later interpolators, but the extent of such
interpolations can hardly perhaps be determined even by
a collation of all copies. For the nature and causes of the
variations between different copies the reader may consult
Lane, iii. 678, who e.xplains how transpositions actually
arise by traiiscribers trying to make up a complete^set of
the tales from several imperfect copies. ,,^ "
Many of the tales in the Nig/its have an historical basis,
as Lane has shown in his notes. _Other cases in point
might be added : thus the chronicle of Ibn al-Jauzl (died
1200 A.D.) contains a narrative of Kamar, slave girl of
Shaghb, the mother of Al-Moktadir, which is the source
of the tale in Lane, i. 310 sg., and of another to be found
in M'Naghten, iv, 557 sq. ; the latter is the better story,
but departs so far from the original that the author
must have had no more than a gefleral recollectioni of the
narrative he drew on.^ There are other cases in the
Nights of two tales which are only variations of a single
theme, or even in certain parts agree, almost word fo^
word. Some tales are mere compounds of different stories
put together without any art, but .these perhaps are, as
Lane conjectures, later additions to the book ; yet the
collector himself was no great literary artist. _We must
picture him as a professional story-teller equipped with a
mass of miscellaneous reading, a fluent power of narration,
and a ready faculty for quoting, or at a push improvising,
verses., His stories became popular, and were 'written
down as he told them,— hardly written by himself, else we
should not have so many variations in the text, and such
insertions of "the'narrator says," "my noble sirs," and
the like. ' The frequent coarseness of tone is proper' to the
condition of Egyptian society under the Mameluke sultans,
and would not have been tolerated in Baghdad in .the age
' Gildemeister, De Rebus Indicts, p. 89 sq.
.^ Quatreraere, Sultaris Mamlotics, ii. 2, p. 177 sq. -^^ ^^^
^ Lane, i. 342, .-irbitrarily writes "Montasir" for JiMost^BHD
' See also Edinl. limew, July 1886, p. 191 sq.
' See J)o Goeje m Oids, 1876, ii. pp. 397-411.
318
T H R — T H R
to which so many of the tales refer. Yet with all their
taults the Ni^/Zits have beauties enough to deserve thsir
popularity, and to us their merit is enhanced by the
pleasure we feel in being transported into so entirely novel
J state of society.
The original of some of the most interesting tales in
Calland's version, as " Aladdinand the Wonderful Lamp,"
("AliBaba and the Forty Thieves," has just been dis-
(^o^'Cred by Dr Zotenberg in a MS recently acquired by
the National Liibrary at Paris. A careful examination
of this MS. and of the 'Wortley-Montagu MS. in the
boJleian may lead perhaps to a more certain conclusion
hs to the time of composition.
Tlio Thousand andJ)nc Kights bfx;amo known in Europe through
A. Calland's FieuclT version {12 vols., 12nio, Paris, 1704-12) ;
tlio public.ition was an event in literary history, the influence
of which can bo traced far and wide. This translation, however,
left nnich to be desired in point of accuracy, and especially failed
to reproduce tlie colour of the original with the exactness which
Itliosc wlio do not read merely for arausement nmst desire. It was
Svith a special view to the remedying of these defects that Lane
(produced in 1840 his admirably accurate, if somewhat stilted,
itranslntion, enriched with most valuable notes and a discussion of
the origin of the work (new edition, w*th some additional notes,
'3 vols., 8vo-, London, 1859). Lane's translation omits the tales
.V'hich lie deemed uninteresting or unlit for a European public.
•Hci full translation into English can be published, and, though two
'suchjiavc been privately printed, and one of thesj (by Sir R.
jjurton) is being reproduced in a'n expurgated form. Lane's version
;is still unsuperseded for all serious use. Of the Arabic text of the
)Ntghts\\\Q principal editions are — (1) M'Nagh ten's edition, 4 vols.,
p-o, C.-ilcutta, 1839-42 ; (2) the Breslau edition, 12 vols., 12mo,
;lS35-43, the first 8 vols, by Habicht, the rest by Fleischer (com-
pare as to the defects of Habicht's work, Fleischer, Dc Glossis
HnlilMianis, Lcipsic,1836) ; (3) the first Biilak edition, 4 vols.,
JS62-3 (M. J. dbG.)
THRACE is a name -which ■was applied at various
Jieriods to areas of different extent, but for the purposes
of this article it will be taken in its most restricted sense,
as signifying the Roman province which was so called
(Thracia, see Plate of the Roman empire in vol.' xx.)
after the district that intervened between the river Ister
(Danube) and the Hcemus Mountains (Balkan) had been
formed into the separate province of Mtesia, and the
region between the rivers Strymon and Nestus, which
included Philippi, had been added_ to Macedonia. The
boundaries of this were — towards the N". the Hsmus, on
the E. the Euxine Sea, on the S. the Propontis, the Helles-
pont, and the .lEgean, and towards the W. the Nestus.
The most distinguishing features of the country were the
chain of Rhodope (Despoto-dagh) and the river Hebrus
(Maritza). The former separates at its northernmost point
from the Hiemus, at right angles, and runs southward
at first, nearly parallel to the Nestus, until it approaches
the sea, when it takes an easterly direction : this bend
js referred to by Virgil in the line {Georg., iii. 351) —
Quaque rcdil medium Rhodope porrecta sub axem.
The summits of this chain are higher than those of
JHremus, and not a few of them range from 5000 to 8000
feet ; the highc.«t point, so far as is at present known (for
these mountains have been imperfectly explored), rises
towards the north-west, near the point where. now stands
the "famous Bulgarian monastery of Rilo. The Hebrus,
together with its tributaries \vhich flow into it from the
north, east, and west, drains nearly the whole of Thrace.
It starts from near the point' of junction of Ha;mu3 and
■Rhodope, and at first takes an easterly direction, the chief
jlown which lies ca its banks in the earlier part of its
(course being Pbilippopolis ; but, when it reaches the still
toiore important city of Hadrianopolis, it makes a sharp
Jbend towards the couth, and enters the sea nearly opposite
the i.sland of Samotliracc. The greater part of the country
is billy and irregular, though there are considerable plains ;
l)ut besides Rhodope two other tolerably_definite chains
intersect it, one of wikh descends from Hsemus to Adrians
ople, while the other follows the coast of the Euxine at
no great distance inland. One district in the extreme
north-west of Thrace lay beyond the watjcr.shed that
-separates the streams that flow into the .(Egcan from those
that reach the Danube : this'w-as the territory of Sardica;
the modern Sophia. In the later Roman period two maio
lines of road passed through the coujtry. One of these
skirted the southern coast, being a continuation of the
Via Egnatia, which ran from Dyrrhachium to Thessalonica,
thus connecting the Adriatic and the .(Egean ; it became
of the first importance after the foundation of Constan-
tinople, because it was the direct line of communication
between that city and Rome. The other followed a north-
westerly course through the interior, from Constantinople
by Hadrianopolis and Philippopolis to the Hxmus, and
thence by Naissus (Nisch) through Mcesia in the direction
of Pannonia, taking the same route by which the post-road
now runs from Constantinople to Belgrade. The climate of
Thrace was regarded by the Greeks as very severe, and
that country was spoken of as the home of the north wind,
Boreas. The coast in the direction of the Euxine also was
greatly feared by sailors, as the harbours were few and
the sea proverbially tempestuous ; but the southern shore
was more attractive to navigators, and here we find the
Greek colonies of Abdera and Mesambria on the ylCgean,-
Perinthus on the Propontis, and, the most famous of all,
Byzantium, at the meeting-point of that sea and the
Bosphorus. Another place which proved attractive to
colonists of that race was the curious narrow strip of
ground, called the Thracian Chersonese, that intervened
between the Hellespont and the Bay of Melas, which pene-
trates far into the land on its northern side. Among tho
cities that occupied it, Sestos and Callipolis (Gallipoli) are
the most worthy of mention. In order to prevent the
incursions of the Thracians, a wall was built across its
isthmus, which was less than five miles in breadth. The
north-eastern portion of the j^gean, owing to its proximity
to the coast of Thrace, was known as the Thracian Sef4
and in this were situated the islands of Thasos, Samo;
thrace, and Imbros.
There is no sufficient '^cvide'uce to determine the ethnological
affinities 'of the Thracian race. Their language has perished, and
the information respecting them which has come down to us hardly
furnishes more than material for conjecture, so that the most that
we can affirm on the subject is that they belonged to the Indo-
European family. The most striking arclireological monuments of
the prehistoric period are the sepulchral inouiuls, which have been
compared iu appearance to the tumulus on the jvlaiii of Marathon;
these arc found by thousands in various parts of the country, espe-
cially iu the ueighbouihood of the ancient towns. Aa Roman
implements and ornaments have been found in some of them, it ia
plain that this mode of burial continued to be piMctised until a
late period. The deity whose worship prevailed most extensively
in tho count. y was Dionysus. The most powerful Tliracian tiibo
was that of tlio Odiys.T, \.hoso king. Teres, in the middle of tho
5th century B 0. extended his dominion so as to include the gi'eatJT
part of Thrace. During the Pcloponncsian "War his son Sitalcco
was an ally of some importance to the Athenians, because he kept
in check the Macedonian monarch, who opposed the interests of
the Athenians in the Chalcidic pejiinsula. Ou the death of that
prince his kingdom was divided, and the power of the Thracians
was consequently diminished ; but in the time of Philip of Macedon
wo find Cersobleptcs, wlio ruled the south-eastern portion of tho
country, exercising an important influence on the policy of Athens.
During tho early period of tlio Roman empire the Thracian king*
were allowed to maintain an independent sovereignty, wliile
acknowledging tho su/erainty of Kome, and it was not until tho
reign of 'Vespasian that the coiiutiy W'as reduced to the form of a
Itrovince. From its ontlyin.g position in the northern part of tho
Balkan peninsula, it was nnuli e\}ioscd to the inroads of barl^arian
iiiv;idci"s, so tli;it it was oveiiuii by the Goths on several occasions,
and subsequently t-y the Huns; but its proximity to Constant iuople
caused Its I'oituiies to be closely connected with those of that city/
fioin tho time when it became the capital of the Eastorn empire*
In the course of time its inhabitants seem to have been thoroughly,
Romanized, and to ]ia.vo adopted the Latin language, and then it,
T H R — T H R
319
I
much probability in the view that they were the progenitors of the
Vlachi, or Roumanians south of the Danube, whoso language is of
Latin origin, and who at various periods formed aa important
factor in the countries to the northward of Greece. The first
evidence of the development of this nationality is found in a
curious story told by Theophane* at the end of the 6th centurj-.
At that time a khan of the Avars had overrun the Eastern empire
and appeared before the walls of Constantinople ; but two generals
of the imperial force;, who had concealed themselves in the Balkan,
Bueceeded in inusterm" a considerable body of troops, and were on
their way to surprise the rear of the Avars when tneir project was
brought to an end by the following occurrence. One of the beasts
of burden happened to fall down in tho line of march, on which
eomo one close by called out to its driver, in the language of tho
country. " Torna, toma, fratre." that is, " Turn him ronnd, brother."
The driver did not hear this, but the other soldiers did; and,
thinking the enemy were upon them, and that this was the sign
for retreat, they look up the cry **Toma, torna," and the whole
forco fled precipitately. It seems probable that the men who used
these words were Roumanian inhabitants of the Balkan In the
course of the .Middle Ages the norlhom parts of Thrace and some
other districts of that country were occupied by a Bulgarian popu-
lation , and in 1361 tho Ottomans, who had previously estoblishe<l
themselves in Europe, luadc themselves masters of Adnanople,
which for a time became the Turkish capital When Cunstaoti.
Dople fell in 1453, the whole country passed into the hanils ol the
Turks, and m their possession it remained until 18i3. when, in
accordance with the provisions of the treaty of Ccilin, the northern
portion of it was placed under a separate administration, with the
title of Eastern Koumelia; this province has now become, to all
intents and purposes, a part of the principality of Bulgaria The
population of Thrace at the present day is composed of Turks,
Greeks, and Bulgarians. (H. F T.)
THE ALE. See Piozzi.
THRASYBULUS, &n Athenian who played a distin-
guished part in the latter years of the Peloponneaian War
and in the restoration of the democracy at Athens. In
41 1 B.C., as an officer m the Athenian armament at Samos,
he energetically opposed the oligarchical conspiracy of the
Four Hundred, and was mainly instrumental in keeping
the fleet and army loyal to the democracy and in procur-
ing the recall of the banished AJcibiades. At the battle
of Cynnosema, in the same year, he commanded the right
wing of the Athenian fleet, and to his valour and conduct
the Athenian victory was largely due. He took an active
part in the naval operations of the following years, being
present at the victories of Cyzicus (410) and Arginusa;
(406). In 407 he commanded a squadron on theThracian
coast, where he reduced places which had gone over to the
Lacedcemonians. When the infamous Thirty Tyrants were
at the height of their power in Athens, Thrasybulus, who
cs a democrat had been banished, marched from Thebes
with about seventy men, with the connivance of Thebes,
and established himself at Phyle, a strong place in the
rear of Athens. There he repulsed an attack directed
against him by the Thirty ; his numbers increased, and,
after surprising and routing a body of foot and horse, he
seized Pirsus, the port of Athens, but, finding the circuit
of the walls too great to be defended by his small force,
he retired into the adjoining Munychia. Here he was
attacked by the troops of the Thirty, but in the street-
fighting the democrats had the best of it, and the Thirty
were in consequence deposed and retired to Eleusis.
Hostilities, however, continued until Pausanias, one of the
kings of Sparta, intervened, and by force and craft effected
a reconciliation. The democrats marched into Athens
with all the pomp of war, and sacrificed to Athene on the
Acropolis. This restoration of the democracy by Thrasy-
bulus ranked henceforward with the memorable deeds
of Athenian history. To his counsels seems due in part
the credit for the wise moderation with which the demo-
crats used their victory, and the inviolate good faith
with which they observed the political amnesty. The
grate.ful citizens rewarded their champion with an olive
crown'. In 395, when Thebes was threatened by Sparta,
the Athenians, stimulated by Thrasybulus, repaid the
friendly shelter which the Thebans had afforded them in
e.xile by resolving to stand by Thebes against Sparta, and
by actually sending a force under Thrasybulus to her aid.
In 390, while the war known as the Corinthian was still
dragging on, Thrasybulus was sent with a fleet to check the
growing power of Sparta in the yEgean. He substituted a
democracy for an oligarchy at Byzantium,' and won the
friendship of Chalcedon , then, landing in Lesbos, he
defeated a joint force of Lacedaemonians and Lesbians. In
the following spring he prepared to assist Rhodes, which
was threatened by the Lacedaemonians ; but to recruit his
forces he levied contributions from venous cities. At
Aspendus, in Pamphylia, an outrage committed by some
of his men roused the anger of the people, who fell on
him by night, and slew him in his tent. He was buned
at Athens, in the Ceramicus, near the graves of Pericles
and Phormio.
THREADWORMS. See Nematoidea.
THREE RIVERS, the third city of Quebec province,.
Canada, and capital of St Maurice county, is situated at
the confluence of the rivers St Maurice and St Lawrence.
The St Maurice flows in from the north, and, being divided
at Its mouth by two islands, the channels give the towa
,its name. It is on the line of the Canadian Pacific Puail-
way, 78 miles south-west of Quebec, and 92 north-east
of Montreal. Founded in 1634, Three Rivers is one of
the oldest towns in Quebec. It is the centre of a large
lumber trade, which is carried on by the St Maurice and
its tributaries. Three leagues from the city are the St
Maurice forges, where iron wares were formerly manu-
factured extensively. Other industnes are furniture and
cabinet making, boot and shoe making, and those carried
on in the spool factories, brass and lead foundries, sawmills,
and carriage factones. The city is the residence of the
Roman Catholic bishop whose diocese bears the same
name. The chief trade is in lumber, grain, cattle, &c.,
which find sale in South America, the West Indies, Great
Britain, and the United States. The city sends one
member to the Canadian House of Commons and one
to the Legislative Assembly. The population of the city
in 1881 was 8C70 (males 4173, females 4497). The
district of Three Rivers comprises the counties of St
Maurice, Nicolet, Champlain, and Maskinonge.
THROAT DISEASES. These form a large and import-
ant class, and include some of the most serious and fatal
of maladies (see Crodp and Diphtheria). The present
article will be devoted mainly to a general account of the
more common diseases afi'ecting the upper part of the re-
spiratory passages, but certain morbid conditions of the
back of the mouth and of the gullet wiU also be referred
to. The diagnosis of not a few of these diseases has been
greatly aided by the introduction into medical practice of
the laryngoscope ; but, while the use of this instrument is
a part of the education of every well-equipped medicaJ
practitioner, the minute investigation and the treatment
of the more occult and serious maladies affecting the
throat are by general consent, and with much advantage,
relegated to the specialist.
Laryngitis, or inflamraatioQ of the mucous membrane of tho
Larynx, may be either acute or chronic.
AciUc laryngitis is usually produced by exposure to cold directly,
or by a catarrh extending either from the nasal or from the bronchia)
mucous membrane into that of the larynx. 1 1 is an occa'sional accom-
p.%uiment of certain of the infectious diseases in which the throat
IS liable to suffer, such as smallpox, measles, scarlet fever, and
erysipelas. Excessive use of the voice, as in loud speaking or sin'^-
ing, sometimes gives rise to laryngitis. Further, the inhalation of
irritating particles, vapours, &c., and the local effects of swallowing^
very hot fluids, are wcll-iecognized causes. Tho chief changes in'
the larynx'are great redness, with swelling of the parts, which affect
the whole interior of tho cavity, but are specially marked where
the tissues are lax, such as the neighbourhood of the epiglottis and
320
THROAT DISEASES
«f thn vocal cords The effect is to produce narrowing of the
"Lntirlhroa^aocc of air and to th.s the ch.ef dangers are
due The symptoms vary with the intensity of the attack, oui.
a ong with morJoi- less fev'enshness and constitutional disturbance
ther?is usually a sense of heat, dryness, and pain in the ttroa
attemled with some dilliculty in the act of svyallowing Cough is
a c' mstanrsymptom, and is either loud, barking or clanging, or
else huskv and toneless. It is at first dry, but afterwards is ac
tlp^.1 with Ixpectoration. The voice, like the cough, -rough
or huskv The breathing shows evidence of laryngeal ^struction
bot'i nJpira ion and expfration being prolonged and dithcult with
^ ,nmawhat hissing sound, and with almost no interval between
?he two act^ l1 sfvere caies the face and surface generally become
Wd, and SfTocation threatens, particularly ^"""gthe paroxysm
of couffhing In favourable cases, which form the majority, the
attack tend^s to abate in a few days, but on the other hand death
may occur uddealy ,n a suffocative pa.oxysm, particularly in the
Tse of children. Many cases of acute laryngitis are so comt a-
uvely slight as to make themselves known only by hoarseness and
the chaiMter of the cough, nevertheless in every instance the
ttack dema'ndrserious atS^ntion. The treatment consist, in kee^-
in» the natient in bed in an atmosphere of 60 to 70 i., made
n^Ltbvs earn The use of warm gargles, and the frequent
Tn a-,t?on 0 the vlpour of hot watcr.^co'iitaining such sooth.ug
ubst^nci ^ benzoin'; conium hop &c and the ^-PP'"^r„rr^aUy
fomentations to the throat, will be found of ""ch value Intennally
diaiihorctics such as sma 1 doses of antimony or Dover s powaer,
. e aho o be recommended. Such remedies usually suffiee to re
hove the atuck but in very severe cases more active interference
nay be necessary When t'here is much swelling of the mucou
m^Lrane in the upper portion of the larynz, scarihcat.on of the
parts with the aid of the laryngoscope "^y afford reliet but
tracheotomy should not be neglected where death appears to no
mminent f'^om suffocation. Attacks of laryngitis may be larg ly
pTe"ented in those l.aule to them by a ^?,g'"cn calculated to in-
vigorate the system, such as the cold bath, regular open-air exer-
"'^Ckromc lannndis may occur as a result of repeated attacks of
the acutLforX or may arise independently from such causes as
abm.a e,p™ure (e^pJcially where' along with this there is over-
nUu ' ICO ^n alcoho ), the habitual overuse of the vocal organs
^ The changes taking place in the parts are more perman nt
than in the-a«l» form, consisting mamly in thickening ol the
nuco s n, nibra^e, vocal cords, &c. With it may b^ "'elation
Lnd aUo icin. tiM.es destruction, of the cartilaginous parts of the
aiynx The symptoms vary according to tho "tent and a ,
as well as the duration, of the inflammation. Thus there may
:^^„;ty be a certain huskiness or hoarseness on - U^P^f J.^^^^
of the voice tins condition being well exemplified m the so-calieu
clero^vn'ans'soe throat {d.jsphonm clcruorum) ; while, on the other
fin" there may be, not o,dy' complete loss of voice, hut severe pain
'n the act of swallowing aid great difficulty in brea hiug accon •
panied sometimes with expectoration of '"f 'V"^"'''^!",",,^,?"";^
In the cases where ulceration is present Under th's ^'^y ol i^o
disease may be included the ulceration due to syphilid and that
occurnnr.n the course of phthisis, both of which are attended
w'thThe^ymptonis now mentioned. The diagnosis and the treat-
ment of all Xh mses IS greatly aided by the use of the laryngo_
Tcop^ by hich a view of the affected parts can be obtained, and
the'l.'roper remedies more readily applied. In the t«at'ue'.t of
the chronic forms of laiyngit.3 rest to the parts is essential, any
Itlempu at continuing the" use of the voice only aggrayanr the
condition- while tonic remedies and regimen should be diligently
cmploTad to s lengthen the system generally. APpl.c.tions to the
aZted parts in the forms of solutions of ^'""^ ^l'""' f"'.'=bf,"° "i
&c., either by means of a sponge-probang '"troduced into the caMty
or by the simpler methoi of spraying, are often beneficial. Ihe
:, sufflation of %wders, such as iodoform, or starch m'^d^th a
minute quantity of morphia, is also of service, as arc likewise in
hakil on? of vapours of lo'dme, carbolic acid, turpentine, eucalyptus,
ilc 7n a^ravatcd forms of this disease tracheotomy is occasion-
allv neccssaiv to relievo threatened suffocation.
SvmDtoms similar to those already described arc produced by
tumors a^d otl r growths in the laii^nx. Such growths may bo
of s^mnle character, in the form of isolated fibrous lormatious
a U 3 by a peduncle to some portion of the laryngeal inucous
me"nb ane, or as warty excrescences occurring ijion or m the neigl -
Whood of the vocal cords. Th.y are detecle. by means of the
larynEOsoote and can often be dealt with effect jally by the surgeon,
rthfmo'rserious n.alignant.tumours (cp'the lomatous or ancer-
ous), which pither uke origin in the larynx, or ^Ptfd 'o to it Ironi
adjacent parts, interference by surgical measures can only afford
""^^I^:L.s of the larynx are of purely ne.^ous origin, and
occur independently of any local disease. One of the most miport
ant of theU is la^r>^nu^ stnduhcs. otherwise ca Id .A.M-cr.^
,„, or si>a^iwdic croup. This condition occurs chiefly during the
parlv vears of childhood, of'en in infants during dentition and
manifest Itself after premonitory symptoms of a common catarrh
U.?t^nTr day or ttvo" by the occurrence of a violent suffocative
a?tlck due to sudden spimodic approximation of the vocal cords
and consequent interru^ption to the breathing. The symptoms are
rnt connected with any local inflammatory condition, but are the
csult oTreflexTrntatio'n affecting the ""ves supplying he lajn-
eeal muscles. Such disturbance appears specially apt to occu^ ^
The sna^m of the glottis, and unless relief speedily comes dea.h
may r very rapil In most cases, however, the attack quickly
niLs off and The child s.ems Uttle the worse. A liabdity to this
SSoler is sometimes observed ,n families, and m such instancy
the attacks are apt to occur m theur more serious and fatal forms.
Treatmenlto be of any avaU must be promptly apphed. It.con-
siS mainly m the employment of means to allay the spasm. The
use o^the wa™ bath is very serviceable for this purpose, as is a^
"^ct cabl n al cases' ev'ery effort should be made to discover
anv causes likely to produce n/rvous irriUtion, such as teethmg.
TesTmal worms, tl. and to deal with these by appropnata
■■"symMoms not unlike those now described sometimes occur ill
chill lolloiveu uy icvci, p "^ pyrenenced iu the act ol
"^n P°n'.'f,l'^ hr'itse, The ifia^mLt^on -s usually at first
^c:u1t";tfonTtotirruTouexamiuiug,hethi.at
be considerable redness a-' --'^-^ ^ '\ .•^Tbae a copiotS
mucous "'""bvane, the u u .1 so t pame^ discomfort
¥,rrcfraeig.^'cot&.nglydiflic-m
this bui^ts or - c-cuf ; 'Xhll th Octsi'nali; ho.ev^, the
is soon restored to his usual ''«"'" , , •' d a s mdar
mfl.inmiation passes from Uie one ousil to the otue , a
experience has to be gone throng i again A° a'^ta^^Vas a rule
la.oly lasts beyond a -^^^ or ten da) s. ami is ^^^^^^^^^
attended with danger to h^' f '!"^^,^urst,n^ of a large toiisdlat
has occasionally occiirredow^..g to. h^^^^^^^^ ^^_^^^_^o^ .,„„ ^^^
abscess dining sleep, and 'h*^ "'»Y , the.ame.-is that for
trachea The t.e..tment for a n"' - » "^ ';' j^f,;^„„,,, ,,,, ,„p,„y.
1^- ^1 ^ ti,j;io»=^5:ridTirrt^:
warm garbles of milk and «"'^' °' "'^"",30 hot applicatioci
iu,,alat!o,i of vapour al on 1,11.1^ r^^^^^^^^^^^^^
'the'^xtemal fp^UcaUon of cold compresses, but on the whole
T H R— ^T H R
321
warmth appears to b« the more soothing remedy. When an abscess
has formed it may be punctured, but care re:juires to be observed in
doing this that no injury be iaflictedbn any important blood-vessel.
The tonsils are frequently the seat of permanent enlargement
{ehronic ionsiilUis), which may result from frequent attacks of
qoinsy or may exist independently." They are often seen in
delicate young people, and, in the case of some at least, denote a
Btrnmous tendency. They give trouble from the mechanical
irapodiment they present to swallowing and clear articulation, and
when very large they cause the breathing to be more or less noisy
at all times, but especially during sleep, while again they may give
rise to a measure of deafness. They are treated by remedies which
promote the general nutrition, such as cod-liver oil, iron, &c., by
the use of astringent gargles, and when necessary by excision.
The Pharijitx or upper portion of the gullet (seen to a large
Extent on looking at the back of the mouth) is frequently the
seat of a chronic inflammatory condition, usually associated with
derangements of the digestive organs, and sometimes the result of
excessive tobacco smoking. On inspection the mucous membrane
is seen to be unduly red and glazed looking, with the enlarged
follicles standing out prominently. It produces considerable
irritation, cough, and discomfort, which may hoof long continu-
ance unless subjected to appropriate treatment This consists ■
in removing any local source of irritation, in rectifying by diet
and other remedies {see Stomach Diseases) any gastric disturb-
bnce, and by the application to the parts of silver or qther mild
caustic solution.
^ The (Esophagus' or gullet may be the seat of catarrhal or
inflammatory condition's, but the more important ailments affect-
ing this tract are those which arise from local injuries, such as the
swallowing of scalding or corrosive substances. This may cause
nlceration followed with cicatrization which narrows the passage
and produces the symptoms of stricture of the oesophagus, — namely,
pain and difficulty in swallowing, with regurgitation of the food..
The severity of the case will necessarily depend upon the amount
of narrowing and consequent mechanical obstruction, but in some
instances this has occurred to such an extent as practically to
occlude the canal. ■ Cases of oesophageal stricture of tho kind now
referred to may sometimes bo relieved by the diligent use of the
bougie, ■ but not unfrequently, in order to prevent death by
starvation, surgical interference is requisite to form an opening
into the stomach by means of which food may be introduced.
■ . A still more serious and frequent cause of cesophageal stricture
is that due to cancerous growth in the canal, which may occur at
any part, but is most common at the lower end, in the vicinity
of the entrance into" the stomach. Tho symptoms of this condition
are increasing difficulty in the passage downwards of the food,
the steady decline in strength, and the development of the cancer-
ous cachexia, together with enlargements of the glands in the
neck ;,, while the diagnosis is rendered the more certain by the
absence'bf any cause, such as local injury, for tho formation of a
stricture, aniL.by the age (as "a rule at or beyond middle life).
Treatment here can only be palliative while life continues, which
in general is not long. Feeding by the bowel (encmata) may bo
advantageously resorted to;[as "supplementary to efforts to admin-
ister liquid nutriment in the usual way. It is to be observed in
all cases of organic stricture that the food does not necessarily
return at once, but seems as if it had passed into the stomach.
In reality, however, it has passed into the dilated or pouched
portion of the canal, which is almost always present immediately
above the seat of stricture, where it remains until, from its amount,
it 'regurgitates back into the mouth, when it can be seen, by the
absence' of any evidence of digestion, that it has never been within
the cavity of the stomach. While in this way a large quantity of
the food returns, Jt often happens that a small amount of the
liquid portion does trickle through the narrowed canal into the
stomach, and thus life may be prolonged for a considerable time.
Strictures of the cesophagns may also.be produced by the pres-
sure of tumours or aneurisms within the cavity of the chest but
external to the canaL Further, a variety of cesophageal stricture
is -not unfrequently met with which is due entirely to nervous
causes, and i« quite unconnected with organic disease, — namely,
that form occurring in hysterical females termed spasmodic etric-
ture.;'.' Here the attack of difficulty in swallowing comes on usually
when'the patient is at meals, and the food cannot pass down. The
absence, however, of all history of any organic source of disease,
and especially the perfect facility with which the cesophageal tube or
bougie is passed, together with other manifestations of hysteria com-
monly present, serve readily to establish the diagnosis. The remedies
most suitable are tonics and the frequent passage of the Stomach-
tube, which as a rule soon entirely removes the tendency to spasm.
Finally, difficulty in swallowing sometimes occurs in certain
serious nervous diseases from paralysis affecting the nerves supply-
ing the muscular coats of the oesophagus, which thus loses its
propulsive power. When such complications occur they usually
denote an advanced stage of the central dis^e with which they
ore connected, and ajpeedily f^tal termination. (J, O.-A-t-t
L
.^ ' THRONDHJEM.^r' Trondhjem (Drontheim),- the
third town of Norway, capital of the Throndhjem stift
and of the South Throndhjem amt, is pleasantly sitaated
on the southern shore of the Throndhjem fjord, at the
mouth of the Nid, 348 miles by rail to the north of
Christianja, in 63° 25' 52" N. lat. and 10° 33' 19" E. long.'
In front' of the town is the islet of Munkholm, formerly
a monastery and now a fortress; on. the high ground to
the east is the small stronghold of Christiansten.^ The
houses of Throndhjem, principally of wood, are substan-
tial, spacious, and well lighted ; and the streets are wide,'
regular, and scrupulously clean. The principal building is
the cathedral, partly dating from about 1090, but chiefly
belonging to the 12th and 13th centuries (c. 1161-1248).
Its extreme length was 325 feet and its e.^treme breadth
124 feet; but in the 14th, 15th, and 17th centuries it
suffered greatly from repeated fires ; after the last of these
the nave was completely abandoned, and soon became a
heap of ruins. The building, which still ranks as the
finest ecclesiastical edifice in Norway, and is the place of
coronation of the Norwegian sovereigns, is now undergoing
extensive blit judicious restoration. The workmanship of
its eastern windows and of the marble or steatite columns
of the choir is specially noteworthy. Throndhjem po.ssessea
three churches in all, and among its other public buildings
may be mentioned the residences of the stiftsamtmand and
the bishop, the grammar School, the real school, the head
office of the Bank of Norway, the deaf and dumb institute,
the hospital, and the theatre. It is the seat of the royal
Norwegian scientific society, in connexion with which
are an excellent library and a good zoological and anti-
quarian museum. Throndhjem, which has steamboat com-
munication with Christiania, Hamburg, and Hull, and
is connected with Sweden by the Meraker Railway (63
miles), carries on an extensive trade in copper (from the
Roros mines), timber, oil, and dried and salted fish ; the
industries include shipbuilding, sawmilling, distilling,
tanning, rope-making, and ribbon-making. , The popular
tion in 1875 was 22,152; in 1885 it_was estimated at
24,000. S " ~ , .-.,".. V 1
Throndhjem, originally Nidaros, was founded byOlafTryggvason,
who built a royal residence and a church here in 996. It was
made an archbishopric in 1152. The city attained its highest
development about'the latter half of the 13tli century, by which
time it had become an important pilgrimage centre and had as
many as fifteen churches. It has sustained frequent sieges, as
well as devastating conflagrations. _ Its importance declined about
tho time of the Reformation, when it ceased to be a resort" of pil-
grims. At the beginning of the present century its inhabitants
numbered only 8832.
THRUSH (A. S. }»-ys(;e,'lcel.'l)roi<r, Norw.'TrcwCO.
H. Germ. Drosce, whence the modern German Drossel, to
be compared with the analogous English form Throstle,'
now almost obsolete, both being apparently diminutives),
the name that in England seems to have been common to
two species of birds, \the first now generally distinguished
as the Song-Thrush, butknown in many districts as the
Mavis,^ the second called ,the Mistletoe-Thrush, but having
many other local designations, of which more presently.
The former of these is one'of sthe finest songsters in Europe, but
it is almost everywhere'. so common that its merits in this respect
are often disregarded,^and not unfrequently its melody, when
noticed, is asoribed to .the prince of feathered vocalists, the
Nightingale (vol. xvii.^p. 498). The Song-Thrush is too well
known to need description, for in the spring and summer there is
hardly a field,, a copse, or a garden that is not the resort of a pair
or more; and tho brown-backed bird with its spotted breast,
* For niany interesting facts connected with the words " Thrush ''
and " Throstle " whicli cannot be entered upon here, the . readei
should consult Prof. Skeat's EtymclogicaX Dictionary^
* Cognate with the French jt/aJai'5," though that is nowadays almost
restricted to the Redwing (voI_. xx. p. 313). - Its diminutive ii
JtfauvieUe, the modem table-name of the Skylark, and perhaps Mavu
was in English originally the table-nama of the Thrush, i
XXIIL — 4-1
322
T H U — T H U
hopping over the grass for a few yards, then pausing to detect the
movement of a worm, and vigorously seizing the same a moment
after, is one of the most famiUar sights. Hardly less well known
is the singular nest bailt by this bird — a deep cup, lined with a
thin but stiff coating of fragments of rotten wood ingeniously
spread, and plastered so as to present a smooth interior — in
which its sea-green eggs spotted with black are and. An early
breeder, it builds ncrt after nest during the season, and there
can be few birds more prolific. Its ravages on ripening fruits,
especially strawberries and gooseberries, excite the enmity of the
imprudent gardener who leaves his crops uuprotected by nets, but
he would do well to stay the hand of revenge, for no bird can or
does destroy so many snails, as is testified to the curious observer
on inspection of the stones that it selects against which to dash its
captures, — stones that are besmeared with the slime of the victims
and bestrewn with the fragments of their shattered shelK Nearly
all the young Thrushes reared in the British Islands— and this
expression includes the storm-swept isles of the Outer Hebrides,
though not those of Shetland — seem to emigrate as soon as they
are fit to journey, and at a later period they are followed by most
of their parents, so that many parts of the kingdom are absolutely
bereft of this species from October to the end of January. On
the continent of Europe the autumnal influx of the birds bred in
the North is regarded with much interest, as has been already
stated (Birds, vol. iii. p. 765), for they are easily ensnared and
justly esteemed for the «ible, while their numbers make their
appearance in certain districts a matter of great importance.
The second species to which the name applies is distinguished as
the Mistletoe-Thrush, or, by corrupt abbreviation, the Missel-
Thrush. ' It is known also in many districts as the " Storm-cock,"
from its habit of singing in squally weather that silences almost
all other birds, and "Holm- (i.e.. Holly-) Thrush," while the harsh
cries it utters when angry or alarmed have given it other local
names, as " Screech," " Shrite," and " Skrike," all traceable to the
Anglo-Saxon Scric.* This is a larger species than the last, of paler
tints, and conspicuous in flight by the white patches on its outer
tail-feathers. Of bold disposition, and fearless of the sleety storms
of spring, as of predatory birds, the cock will take his stand on
a tall tree, "like an enchanter calling up the gale " (as Knapp
happily wrote), and thence with loud voice proclaim in wild and
discontinuous notes the fervour of his love for his mate ; nor does
that love cease when the breeding-season is past,'since this species
is oae of those that appear to pair for life, and even when, later
in the year, it gathers in small flocks, husband and wife may be
seen in close company. In defence of nest and offspring, too,
few birds are more resolute, and the Daw, Pie, or Jay that
approaches with an ill intent speedily receives treatment that
causes a rapid retreat, while even the marauding cat finds the
precincts of the "master of the coppice" {Fen y lltayn), as the
Welsh name this Thrush, unsuitable for its stealthy operations.
The connexion of this bird with the mistletoe, which ip as old as
the days of Aristotle, is no figment, as some have tried to maintain.
Not onjy is it exceedingly fond of the luscious viscid berries, but
it seems to be almost the only bird that will touch them. Of other
.Srttish Thrushes, the Fieldfare (vol. ix. p. 142), Redwing (vol.
XX. p. 818), and the Blackbird and Ring-OosEL (vol. xviii. p. 76)
have been before noticed in these pages, as has been (under- the
first of those headings) the so-called ' ' Robin " of North America.
The Thrushes have been generally considered to form a
distinct Family, Turdidbe, which is placed by some taxo-
nomers the highest in rank among birds. An attempt has
already been made (Oenithology, vol. xviii. pp. 30, 48)
to point out the fallacy of this view, and space is here
wanting to dwell longer on the matter.. This is the more
to be regretted, for, though many modern systematists
will admit the close connexion of the Turdidse and some
of the so-called Family Sylviidx or Waeblees (q.v.), the
abolition or modification of the latter, by wholly or par-
tially merging it in the former, has not yet been satis-
factorily effected, and Mr Seebohm, in his portion of the
British Museum Catalogue of Birds (v. p. 1), being com-
* There is no doubt of the bird taking its name from the plant
, Mistletoe { Kwcu>;i a/&wm), about the spelling of which there can be
nr uncertainty — A.S. Misteltan, the final syllable origiaaUy signifying
*' t\vig," and surviving in the modem '* tine," as of a fork or of a
deer's antler.
' It seems quite possible that the word Shrike (vol. xii. p 845),
though now commonly accepted as the equivalent, in an ornithological
sense, of Lanius, may have been originally applied to the Mistletoe-
Tbrush. In several of the Anglo-Saxon Vocabularies dating from the
8th to the 11 th century, as printed by Thomas Wright, the word
ScTJc, v-bich can be hardly anything else than the early form of
" Shrike," is glossed Turdut.
pelled by the conditions previously laid down by Mr
Sharpe (op. cit., iv. pp. 6, 7) to unite them, protests
against doing so. His own assignment of the Subfamily
TurdiTis is into 11 genera, of which, however, 6 only
would be commonly called Thrushes, and it must be bornu
in mind that in establishing these he regards coloration as
the most valid character. They are Geocichla with 40
species, Turdus with 48, Merula with 52, Miirwdchla with
3, Calharus with 12, and MorUkola with 10. These last,
well known as Rock-Thrushes, make a very near approach
to the Nightingale (vol. xvii. p. 498), Redstam (vol.
XX. p. 317), and Wheateak (q.v.) (a. n.)
THUCYJJEDES. Thucydides was the greatest historian
of antiquity, and, if not the greatest that ever lived, as
some have deemed him, at least the historian whose
work is the most wonderful, when it is viewed relatively
to the age in which he did it. The most important facts
which we know about him are those which he has told
us himself. It matters very little, fortunately, that the
biographical materials are scanty. For posterity, his lila
is represented by his life's labour, the Htstori/ of the Pelo-
ponnesian War ; and the biographical facts are of interest
chiefly as aids to the appreciation of that history. Ha
was probably born in or about 471 B.C. The only definitaDsie or
testimony on the subject is contained in a passage of Aulus hutl^
Gellius, who says that in 431 Hellanicus "seems to have
been " sixty-five years of age, Herodotus fifty-three, and
Thucydides forty (Noct. All., 15, 23). The authority for
this statement was Pamphila, a compiler of biographical
and historical notices, who lived in the reign of Nero.
She must have had access to Greek sources of the 4th
century B.C.; and her precision — though qualified, in the
version of Gellius, by the word " seems " — would warrant
the supposition that she had • taken some pains to secure
accuracy. Further, the date which she assigns is in good
accord with an inference fairly deducible from the language
of Thucydides himself, viz., that in 431 he had already
reached the full maturity of his powers. Kriiger, indeed,
would place his birth earlier than 471, and Ullrich later,
but for reasons, ip each case, which can scarcely outweigh
the ancient authority.
The parentage of Thucydides was such as to place him Pareot.
in a singularly favourable position for the great work to *8®-
which he afterwards devoted his life. His father Olorus,
a citizen of Athens, belonged to a family which derived
wealth and influence from the possession of gold rainej
at Scaptesyle, on the Thracian coast opposite Thasos, and
was a relative of his elde; namesake, the Thracian prince
whose daughter Hegesipjle married the great Miltiades,
so that Cimon, son of Ik iltiades, was a cousin, perhaps
first cousin, once removed, of Thucydides. It was in
the vault of the Cimoniap family at Athens, and near the
remains of Cimon's sister Elpinice, that Plutarch saw the
grave of Thucydides. Thus the fortune of birth secured
three signal advantages to the future historian ; he was
rich ; he had two homes — one at Athens, the other in
Thrace, — no small aid to a comprehensive study of the
conditions under which the Peloponnesian War was waged ;
and his family connexions were likely to bring him
from his early years into personal intercourse with the
men who were shaping the history of his time.
The development of Athens during the forty years The years
from 471 to 431 was, in itself, the best education which <71-43I
such a mind as that of Thucydides could have received. °°'
In the first two decades of his life the expansion and con-
solidation of Athenian power was proceeding; between
his twentieth and fortieth year the inner resources of the
city were being applied to the embellishment and ennoble-
ment of Athenian life. As Cimon had been the principal'
agent in the former period, so Pericles was the central
THTJCYDIDES
323
figure of the latter. A consciousness of such periods may
be traced in the passage of the Funeral Oration where
Pericles refers, first, to the acquisition of empire by the
preceding generation, and^then to the improvement of that
inheritance by his Qwn contemporaries (ii. 36. 5). It is
a natural subject of regret, though it is not a just cause
of surprise or complaint, that the History tells us nothing
of the literature, the art, or the social life under whose in-
fluences its author had grown up. The Funeral Oration
contains, indeed, his general testimony to the value and
Inner the charm of those influences. There we have the very
Itfe of essence of the Athenian spirit condensed into a few preg-
Athene ^^^^ sentences, which show how thoroughly the writer was
imbued with that spirit, and how profoundly he appreci-
ated its various manifestations. But he leaves us to
supply all examples and details for ourselves. Beyond a
passing reference to public " festivals," and to " beauti-
ful surroundings in private life," he makes no attempt
to define those "recreations for the spirit^' which the
Athenian genius had provided in such abundance. Ko
writer of any age, perhaps, has rendered a-more impressive
tribute to the power of the best art than is implied in
the terse phrase of .Thucydides, when, speaking of the
works which the Athenian daily saw around him, he
declares that " the daily delight of them banishes gloom "
(iv Kad' riixipav r] ripifn.'i to Xtnrqpov tKirATjcrcrft)- But it is
not to Thucydides that we owe any knowledge of the
particular forms in which that art was embodied. He
alludes to the newly-built Parthenon only as containing
the treasury ; to the statue of Athene Parthenos which it
enshrined, only on account of the gold which, at extreme
need, could be dr'ached from the image ; to the Propytea
and other buildings with which Athens had been adorned
under Pericles, only as works which had reduced the
surplus of funds available for the war. Among the illus-
trious contemporaries whose very existence would be
unknown from his pages are the dramatists .iEschylus,
Sophocles, Euripides, Aristophanes ; the architect Ictinus ;
the sculptor Phidias ; the physician Hippocrates ; the
philosophers Anaxagoras and Socrates. If Thucydides
had mentioned Sophocles as a general in the Samian War,
it may be doubted whether he would have noticed the
circumstance that Sophocles also wrote dramas, unless it
had been for the purpose of distinguishing him from a
namesake. And, had he lived to carry his story down to
the debate in the Athenian ecclesia after the battle of
Arginusse, we may conjecture that Socrates, if named at
all, would have been barely mentioned as the one prytanis
out of fifty who resisted an unconstitutional act, — with
some expression, perhaps, of praise, but without any fuller
characterization. We think of the countless occasions
which Herodotus, if he had dealt with this period, would
»have found for invaluable digressions on men and manners,
on letters and art ; we feel the severity of the loss which
the reticence of Thucydides has caused to us ; and we
might almost be tempted to ask whether the more genial,
if laxer, method of Herodotus does not indeed correspond
better with a liberal conception of the historian's office.
No one can do full justice to Thucydides, or appreciate
the true completeness of his work, who has not faced this
question, and found the answer to it. It would be a
liasty judgment which inferred from the omissions of the
History that its author's interests were exclusively polit-
ical. Thucydides was not writing the history of a period.
Limit His subject was an event^the Peloponnesian War, — a war,
^ "■* as he believed, of unequalled importance, alike in its
of the direct results and in its political significance for all time.
History. To his task, thus defined, he brought an intense concentra-
tion of all his faculties. He worked \vith a constant desire
to make each successive incident of the war as clear as
possible. To take only two instances : there is notning ia
literature more graphic than his description of the plague
at Athens, or than the whole narrative of the Sicilian
expedition. But the same temper made him resolute in ;
excluding irrelevant topics. The social' life of the i-je, I
the literature and the art, (ind_ no place in his picture
simply because they did not belong, to his subject. His
work was intended :to be " ai possession for ever." He
could conceive a day when Sparta should be desolate,
and when only ruins of Athens should remain. But his
imagination never projected itself Into a time when the
whole fabric of Hellenic, civilization should have perished.
Could his forecast have extended to an age when men of
" barbarian " races and distant climes would be painfully
endeavouring to reconstruct a picture of that civilization,
— when his own narrative would need the help of side-
lights which seemed to him wholly unnecessary, — then,
assuredly, he would have added all that such readers
could reqiiire. But he would not have done this in the
manner of.Hcrodotu , by free indulgence in digression;
rather he would have gathered up the social and intel-
lectual phenomena of his day in a compact and systematic
introduction, specially designed for the non-Hellenic reader.
The biography which bears the name of Maicellinus
states that Thucydides was the disciple of Anaxagoras in I'hm-,-
philosophy and of Antiphon in rhetoric. Such statements diJos anrt
were often founded on nothing more than a desire to ^^"P""'"-
associate distinguished names, and to represent an eminent
man as having profited by the best instruction in each
kind which his contemporaries could afford. In this case
there is no evidence to confirm the tradition. But it may
be observed that Thucydides and Antiphon at least belong
to the same rhetorical school, and represent the same
early stage of Attic prose. Both writers use words of an
antique or decidedly poetical cast ; both point verbal con-
trasts by insisting on the precise difference between terms
of similar impurt ; and both use metaphors somewhat
bolder than were congenial to Greek prose in its riper
age. The differences, on the other hand, between the
style of Thucydides and that of Antiphon arise chiefly
from two general causes. First, Antiphon wrote for
hearers, Thucydides for readers ; the latter, consequently,
can use a degree of condensation, and a freedom in the
arrangement of words, which would have been hardly
possible for the former. Again, the thought of Thucy-
dides is often more complex than any which Antiphon
undertook to interpret ; and the greater intricacy of the
historian's style exhibits the endeavour to express each
thought.' Few things in the history of literary prose are Style of*
mor* interesting than to watch that vigorous mind in its T''.'"^^"
struggle to mould a language of magnificent but im- ^
mature capabilities. The obscuuty with which Thucy-
dides has sometimes been reproached often arises from the
very clearness with which a complex idea is present to
his mind, and his strenuous effort to present it in its
entirety, when the strong consciousness of logical cohe-
rence will make him heedless of grammatical regularity.
He never sacrifices the thought to the language, but he
will sometimes sacrifice the language to the thought
A student of Thucydides may always be consoled by the
reflexion that he is not engaged in unravelling a mere
rhetorical tangle. Every light on the sense will be a light
on the words ; and, when, as is not seldom the case, Thucy-
dides comes victoriously out of this struggle of thought
and language, having achieve*^ perfect expression of his
meaning in a sufficiently lucid form, then his style rises
into an intellectual brilliancy — thoroughly manly, and also
penetrated with intense* feeling — which nothing in Greek.
prose literature surpasses.
' Sc<i Jebb's AUic Orators, vol. i. p. 35.
324
THUCYDIDES
His
relation
to publ.
life.
130.
riie
plague.
424
Fill of
\mphiv
pnl.s
The History shows not onJy a thorough insight into the
political ideas of Pericles, but also a sympathy with him,
and an admiration for his character, which indicate per-
sonal friendship. If, before 431, Thucydides had wished to
take a prominent part in the public life of Athens, every-
thing was in his favour. Cut there is no trace of his
having done so , and it is possible that his opportunities
in this respect were modified by the necessity of frequent
visits to Thrace, where the management of such an
important property as the gold mines must ha»e claimed
the occasional presence of the proprietor The manner in
which he refers to his personal influence in that region is
such as to suggest that he had sometimes resided there
(iv 105.1). He was at Athens in the spring of 430, when
the plague broke out. If his account of the symptoms
has not enabled physicians to agree on a diagnosis of the
malady, it is at least singularly full and vivid He had
himself been attacked by the plague , and, as he briefly
adds, "he had seen others suffer" The tenor of his
narrative would warrant the inference that be had been
one of a few who were active in ministering to the suff'erers
— in that tearful time when religion and morality lost all
control over the despairing population of Athens — when
all the ordinary decencies of life were set at nought, and
when even the nearest relatives failed in the duties of
humanity towards the dying.
The turning-point in the life of Thucydides came in
the winter of the year 424 He was then forty-seven (if
his birth has been rightly placed in 471), and for the
first time he is found holding an ofiicial position. He was
one of two generals entrusted with the command of the
regions towards Thrace (ra im OpaKTj?), a phrase which
dcjnotes the whole Thracian seaboard from Macedonia east-
ward to the vicinity of the Thracian Chersonese, though
often used with more special reference to the Chalcidic
peninsula. One reason why Thucydides had been chosen
for the post was the local influence which he possessed
among the people of the Thracian seaboard, through his
family connexions and his ownership of the gold mines.
His colleague in the command was Eucles. About the
end of November 424 Eucles was in the city ot Amphi-
polls, on the river Strymon That city was not merely
more important to Athens than any other place in the
region, — it was the stronghold of Athenian power in the
north. To guard it with all possible vigilance was a
matter of peculiar urgency at that moment. The ablest
of Spartan leaders, Rrasidas, was then in Thrace with a
Peloponnesian army, — not, indeed, close to Aniphipolis,
but still within a distance which imposed special caution
on Athenian oflicers He was in the Chalcidic peninsula,
where he had already gained rajjid success , and part of
the population between that peninsula and Aniphipolis
was already known to be disaffected to Athens Under
circumstances so suggestive of possible danger, we might
have expected that Thucydides, who had seven ships of
war with him, would have been near his colleague Eucles,
and ready to co-operate with him at a moment's notice.
It appears, however, that, with his ships, he was at tue
island'of Thasos, several miles distant from the Thracian
coast. Brasidas, making a forced march from the Chal-
cidic peninsula, suddenly appeared before Aniphipolis.
Eucles sent in all haste for Thucydides, who arrived with
his ships from Thasos just in time to beat off the enemy
from Eion at the mouth of the Strymon, but not in time
to save Amphipolis. Only a few hours before, it had
capitulated to Brasidas, who had offered exceptionally
favourable terms. The profound vexation and dismay
felt at Athens found expression in the puni.shmeut of the
commandei who seemed primarily responsible for so grave
a disaster. For the next twenty years — i.e., till 404
— Thucydides was an exile from Athen.s. It is not in! - Eiik. of
probable that the charge brought against him was that of Tbucy-
treason (TrpoSoo-i'a), for which the penalty was death, and
that he avoided this penalty by remaining in banish-
ment. A special psepkism is said to have been required
before Thucydides could return in 404, which would have
been regular if a capital sentence had been on record
against him, but not so if he had been merely under
sentence of exile. Cleon i.s said to have been the prime
mover in his condemnation ; and this is likely enough.
Eucles was probably punished also. Grote was the first
modern writer to state the reasons for thinking that
Thucydides may have been really guilty of culpable
negligence on this occasion, and that his punishment —
which had usually been viewed as the vindictive act of
a reckless democracy — may have been well deserved.
Everything turns on the que.stioa why he was at Thasoa
just then, and not at Eion. No one disputes that, after
the summons from Eucles, he did all that was possible.
It IS true that the facts dl the situation, so fai as we
know them, strongly suggest that he ought to have been
at Eion, and do not disclose any reason for his being at
Thasos. But it is only fair to remember, in a case of this
kind, that there may have been other facts which we do
not know. There is some presumptive evidence of careless-
ness , but we can hardly say more than that. The absence
of Thucydides from the neighbourhood of Amphipolis at
that precise juncture may have had some better excuse
than now appears.
From 423 to 404 the home of Thucydides was on 4^1-4 "i
his property in Thracg, but much of his time appears to Tr-'" ^
have been spent in travel. He visited the countries of
the Peloponnesian allies, — recommended to them by his
quality as an exile from Athens ; and be thus enjoyed
the rare advantage of contemplating the great war from a
point of view opposite to that at which he had previously
been placed. He speaks of the increased leisure which his
ba,nishment secured to his study of events. He refers
partly, doubtless, to detachment from Athenian politics,
partly, also, we may suppose, to the opportunity of visit-
ing places signalized by recent events, and of examining
their topography in the light of such information as he
could collect on the spot. The local knowledge which is
often apparent in his Sicilian books may have been
acquired at this period. Th? banishment of Thucydides
was the most fortunate event that could have occurred for
him and for us, when it enabled him, m this way, to look
at his subject all round. If it is always hard for an
historian to be impartial, it is especially so for the historian
of a great war in which his own country has been one of
the combatants. The mind of Thucydides was naturally
judicial, and his impartiality — which seems almost super-
human by contrast with Xenophon's Helhmca — was in
some degree a result of temperament. But it cannot be
doubted that the evenness with which he holds the scale;
was greatly assisted \>y the experience which, during the' ■
years of exile, must have been familiar to him — that
hearing the views and amis of the Peloponnesians set foi
by themselves, and of estimating their merits ci^herwi-.
than would have been easy for an observer in a hostil.
camp.
His own words make it clear that he returned to Athens,
at least for a time, in 404. Classen supposes that his Pr • -
return took place in the autumn of that year, about six a"- '
months after Athens had surrendered to Lj'sander, and
while the Thirty were still in power. Finding that the
rule of the oligarchy was becoming more and more violent,
Thucydides again left Athens, and retired to his property
in Thrace, where he lived till his death, working at his
History. The preponderance of testimony certainly goes
Uva-.h
396
C»Q-
of the
to show that he diea in Thrace, and by violence It
would seem that, when he wrote chapter 116 of his third
book, he was ignorant of an erut.tion of Etna which tools
place in 390. There is some reasun then, for believintr
that !ie dul not survive his sevcnty-fifth year. According
•.o ancient trad.ta.n, he was killed by robbers. His relics
were brought to .Athens, and laid m the vault of Cimon's
lamily, *here I' utarch sa«- their resting-place. The abrupt-
^aess with which the History breaks off agrees with the
story of a sudden death. The historian's daughter is said
to Lave ^ved the unfinished work, and to have placed it
in the hands of an editor. This editor, according to one
account was .\cnophon, to whom Diogenes Laertiul assigns
the creditor havng " brought the work into reputation,
when he might have suppressed it." The tradition k
however, very doubtful. In its origin, it may have been
merely a ^ess, suggested by a feeling that no one then
living could more appropriately have discharged the office
of literary executor than the writer who. in his llellaiica
continued the narrative.
THUCYDIDES
325
ir.ltrtst
cf tl.e
war.
-I.c
The
pruse
chroni
cicrs
•J^D' ° ft' "^ "'f "'^'"^ ■> ""'ydidcs has .ndic.-iteJ his Kcneral
concr,.t.on of h.s work, an.l hasstat.d tl»-,.nnc,ples which goveWj
n^n.°of'7h "°" "'\>'"'r»sc had been forme/at the ve^ Win
ning of he war. „, the conviction that i. would Prove moreTm-
beUi^.T.nts. Athens and S|«.rta. were both .., the highest condition
rL\ ,7 ^'l'"l'">^nS T*-' '''"''« H^""'': «orld-,ndulin2
g^:i =x^-r;f[h^-l:^;l-^^
|,,,rv would Lrf:rr:;i^,ahr;U'°^;ir-wL',ie^j:-..fc'a;:
head. who^. charact^n', r.7'V'"' '^"' ^T'- "'"' """>" ^' their
nZ. Secon, • t, 're wt fh" .n.In '" ^ "'"•"^•^ '" '^^
calls" chroni, lere-iAj^ l. > tu ^'°^' """^^ "''°'" h»
hasdescriLl . "■,t-Z^,.^f h.r^c; ^"'^"'■■>-'" "f Halic^nassua
to illustrate Ihe dlirer^n <; ; ,w'. M rr!' ' "??", "'"^'' ^"^•^■
work and hi» own Th ^ ",""•" ' ''> Thuc>dide.s bttwtcn their
ledge of le^n-n.U reseTv F ''*'r' "" '° "^"^"^ •• ''"»*•
doubt that Thucydido/knew^h , lij" Tu V'"' "" ^ "^ " '
in some places he a hides to it The ?l^ Herodotus and that Ti acy-
of an immeasurably higher order. While they d^nlt in a boh?
ng of evidence, another, the mixture of » fabulous elemenTwith
iSl effect^ "of^h"";"- '■■"'"^'' "" o«t7on:l™™>>'ft
I lolr^ ■ • ,^,' '""^ '^*' '"" "><= ':''>«f instances would be
nSnif'n°?at^r^!;-ltr "■''■' "■•"^'' Her^otut som"^
mt^^^his History, and the manner in which they have been com-
Hi''^i'^r„''^'i'f'!t"°"""'^ ^'"■*^*" " f'"'rth and a 6fth part of the„.
Hi.tory. If they w-e-e eliniiaated, ^n admirable narrathe wo i.ld^* v
tL .b^t'^..^ ' '''?^ °f conteM,jx,rary feeling and opinion
^.Z:^tp ^rtii: J^s^:;'s^:?^r ^iixi'^!
wirHer^dT""" ,^"S?cstive„ess for theS"it of 'p^mii'
out the pointi ofa sTn,„.„.nl situa lo^ "' no ; .rit, r"„ ,' if '",'
have atuined tiie cbjeu by com:...... i^red'"; rubjl.'d "i'i ^p^^^
326
T H U- T H U
his account of the battle. The comparative indifference of Thucy-
dides to dramatic verisimilitu-ie in these military orations is cari-
ously shown by the fact that the speech of the general on the one
side is sometimes as distinctly a reply to the speech of the general
on the other as if they hi-d been delivered in debate We may
be sure, however, that, wherever Thncydides had any authentic
clue to the actual tenor of a speech, he preferred to follow that
"Voltain; 8 clue rather than to draw on his own invention Voltaire has,
criticism, described the introduction of set speeches as "a sort of oratorical
falsehood, which the historian used to allow himself in old times."
The strongest characteristic of Thucydides is his devotion to truth,
— his laborious persistence in separating fact from fiction ; and it
is natural to ask why he adopted the form of set speeches, with
the measure of fiction which it involved, instead of simply stating,
in his own person. t!ie arguments and opinions which he conceived
to have been prevalent The question must be viewed from the
The standpoint of a Greek m the 5tb century BC Epic poetry had
Greek then for mauy generations exercised a powerful influence over the
^ew. Greek mind Hom^T had accustomed Greeks to look for two ele-
ments in any complete expression of human energy, — first, an
account of a man's deeds, then an image of his mind in the report
of his words The Homeric heroes are exhibited both in action
and in speech Further, the contemporary readers of Thucydides
were men habituated to a civic life in wliicb public speech played
an all-important part Every adult citizen of a Greek democracy
wa3 a member of the assembly which debated and decided great
Issues, The law-courts, the festivals, the drama, the inarket-place
Itself, ministered to the Greek love of animated description To a
Greek of that age a written history of political events would have
seemed strangely insipid if speech " in the first person " had been
absent from it, especially if it did not offer some mirror of those
debates which were inseparably assoeiated with the central inter-
ests and the decisive moments of political life. In making
historical i^ersons say what they might have said, Thucydides
confined that oratorical licence to the purpose which is its best
justification • with him it is strictly dramatic, an aid to the com-
plete presentment of action, by the vivid expression of ideas and
arguments which were really current at the time Among later
historians who continued the practice, Polybius, Sallust, and
Tacitus most resemble Thucydides in this particular ; while in
the Byzantine historians, as in some moderns who followed
classical precedent, the speeches were usually mere occasions for
rhetorical display. Botta's Eistory of Italy from 17S0 to 1814
affords one of the latest examples of the practice, which was
peculiarly suited to the Italian genius.
The present division of the History into eight books is one
which might well have proceeded from the author himself,
as being a natural and convenient disposition of the contents.
The first book, after a general introduction, sets forth the causes
of the Peioponnesian war The first nine years of the war are
contained in the second, third, and fourth books, — three years in
each The fifth book contains the tenth year, followed by the
interval of the ''insecure peace." The Sicilian expedition fills
the sixth and seventh bdoks. The eighth book opens that last
chapter of the struggle which is known as the " Decelean " or
"Ionian " War, and breaks off a' ruptly — m the middle of a sen-
tence, indeed — in the year 411. The words m which Grote bids
farewell, at that point, to Thucydides well express what every
careful student must feel. "To pass from Thucydides to the
EelUmca of Xenophon is a descent truly mournful ; and yet,
when we look at Grecian history as a whole, w-e have great reason
to rejoice that even so inferior a work as the latter has reached us.
The historical purposes and conceptions of Thucydides, as set
forth by himself in his preface, are exalted and philosophical to a
degree altogether wondeiful, when we consider that he had no
pre-existing models before him from which to derive them. And
the eight books of his work (in spite of the unfinished condition
of the last) are not unworthy of these large promises, either in
spirit or in execution "
The principal reason ngainst believing that the division into
eicht books was made by Thucydides himself is the fact that a
dillerent division, into thirteen books, was also current in antiquity,
OS rjppears from Marcelhnus (§ 5S), It is very improbable — indeed
hartily conceivable — that this should have been the case if the
eipht-book division had come down from the hand of the author.
Wf may infer, then, that the division of the work into eight books
was introduced at Alexandria. — perhaps in the 3d or Cd century
B.C That division was already familiar to the grammarians of
the Augustan age. Dionysius of Halicarnassus, who recognizes it,
h.is also another mode of indicating portions of the work, viz . by
Siichnrrutna, or the number of lines which they contained. Thus,
in the MS. which he used, the first 874chapters of book i. con-
tained about 2000 lines (equivalent to about 1700 lines in Bekkcr's
stereotyped Bvo text).
Order Ullrich has maintained with much acutcncss that Thucydides
of com- composed the first three books and about lialf of book iv. in the
poaitioa. years 421-413, and the rest of the work after 404. His general
of that
dirisioji;
ground is the existence in i.-iv. of passages which seem to imply
ignorance of later events. Classen has fully examined the evidence^
and, as a result, has arrived at the following conclusion. It is
possible that a first rough draft of the History, down to 413, may
have been sketched by Tliucydides before 405. But the whole
History, from the first book onwards, was worked up into it»
presenr form only after 404. This v 'cw is contiirued by some
passages, found even in the earliei books, which imply tnat th&
writer already knew the latest incidents, or the final issue, cf the
war We have seen that, after 404, Thucydides may have enjoyed
some six or seven years of leisure Seveial peculiarities of expres-
sion or statement in book vui. suggest that Jt had not yet lercivcd
the author's final revision at the time when death broke off the
work The absence of speeches fioni tue eighth book has also becrv
remarked But it should be observed that much of the eighth
book IS occupied with negotiations, either clandestine or indecisive,
or both Its narrative hardly presents any moment which required
such dramatic emphasis as the speeches usually impart. The mere
misicpreseutations by which Aicibiades and Chalculcus pievailed
on the Cliians to revolt certainly did not claim such treatment.
The division of the war by summers and winters (kotq Q*pQs ttai Mode of
Xttti.it)va) — the end of tiie winter bein^coiisidered as the end of tlie reckoning
year — is perhaps the only one which Thnrydides himself used, for lime,
there is no indication that he made any division of the Htstoiy
into books His " summer *' includes spring and autumn, and
extends, gcner.illy speaking, from March or the beginning of April
to the end of Octooer. His winter" — November to February
inclusive — means practically the period dunng which military
operations, by land and sea, are wholly or [tartly suspended.
When he speaks of " summer " and " winter ' as answering respect-
ively to "half" the year {v. 20. 3), the phrase is not to be pressed:
it means merely that he divides his year into these two parts.
The mode of reckoning i!» essentially a rough one, and is not to be
viewed as if the comjnencement of summer or of winter could be
precisely fixed to constant dales For chronology, besxles the
festivals, he uses the Athenian list of archons. the Spartan list of
ephors, and the Argive list of priestesses of Hera.
There is no reference to the History of Thucydides in the extant
Greek writers of the 4th century B.C. ; but Lucian has preserved a
tradition of the enthusiasm with which it was studied by Demo-
sthenes The great orator is said to have copied it out eight times,
or even to have learnt it by heart It is at least beyond doubt
tbat the study of Thucydides contributed a very powerful influence
to the style of Demosthenes, thougli that influence rather passed
into the spirit of his oratory than showed itself in any marked
resemblances of form The Aipxandrian" cnlics acknowledged
Thucydides as a great master of Atlic Sallust, Cnmelius Nepos,
Cicero, and Quiutilian are among the Koman writers whose admira-
tion for him can be traced in their work, or has been expressly
recorded The moit elaborate ancient criticism on the diotion and
composition of Thucydides is contained in three essays by Dionysms
of Halicarnassus
Amone the best *ISS of Thucydides. the Codex Vaticanus 12C (llih fent.) re- MSS., &C
presents a recension made In Itie Alexandrian or RomAn age In the fint bix
boobs the number of passaccB in which the Vaticanns alone ha* preserved a tnie
reading 13 comparaiiveiy amall : in t)t)olt vii, it is somewhat lurpcr . in book tiiI-
it 13 so large th^it htre the Vatlcanus, as cimparcd with the -^'hir MSS , acfiuirta
the character of a revised text Oiherlmportani MSS. aie the I'slaimua 252(nttl
cent ). the Cas^elanus fI262 A.D). the Augusianus Monacensis ^30 (I3i'l a D ).
A collation, in bouLs 1 ti . of two Cambiidge MiS of the l5th century (Sn S- 18.
Kb 5 19» has been published by Shill^io Several rnnsian >ISS (H C A- F.).
ajid B Venetian MSS (V.) collated by Arnold, olse descive mention The Aldine
edition was published in 1Mj2. It was toi-merly supposed that there had been two
JuDiine editions, ShUleto, in the •' Nonce p^eh^ed m book 1 first pointed out
that the only Junline edition was that of l^.'G, and that iht- belief in an earlier
Juntine, of i506. arose merely from the accideniaj omission of ll« word victumo
ID the Latin version ol the impnni.
Of recent editions, the most cencrally useful Is Classen's, in the Weidmann
sene9(Berlm. IH62-78), each book can be obtained scpbratoJy. Ai nold s edltior*
(1848-51) contains mucb that is still vahiablo For books 1. and ii. Shilleto^
ediilon (1S72-7*;) furnishes a comirreniaiy Vhich, though not full, deals admirably
with manv difficult p"inis, Am.ing otnei important editions, it is enough to
name those of Duker, IleKktr, Coelier. Pot.po, and Kruger D(?iant s lexicon to
Thucydides (2 toIs , Geneva. liWlJUs well executed. Jowetl s translation (Oxlord.
1^93) IS supplemented by a »olunie of notes Dak s teision iUohn)al50 deserves
mention for its tidelilv. as Crawley s (tendon, I87fi) (or its »icr>ui. //eflanra
(Londnn, 1880) contains an easay on " The Speechea of Thucydides." pp 2C6-323
which has been translated into German, The btst clue to Thucydiikan biblio-
graphy is !□ Engeltnann s Scnptcfrn Grgcx. pp 748 iq.. 8th cd., 1880 (K.C. J.*
THUGS. That the Sanskrit root stkaq (Pali, thak-K
"to cover," "to conceal," was mainly applied to fraudu-
lent concealment, appears from the noun $thaga, *' a
cheat," which has retained this signification »n the modern
vernaculars, in all of which it has assumed the form tha^
(commonly written thug), with a specific meaning. The
Thugs were a well-organized confederacy of professional"
assassins, who in gangs of from 10 to 200 travelled in^
various guises through India, wormed themselves into the
confidence of wayfarers of the wealthier class, and, when a.
favourable opportunity occurred, strangled them by throw-
T H U — T H U
327
ing a handkerchief or" noose round their necks, and then
iilundered and buried them. All this was done according
«j certain ancient and rigidly prescribed forms and after
ttie performance of special religious rites, in which the
consecration of the pick-axe and the sacrifice of sugar
formed a prominent parL ?■ From their using the noose as
■an instrument of murder they were also frequently called
Phdnsijars,t or ." noose-operators." Though theyT them-
selves trace their origin to seven Mohammedan tribes,
Hindus appear to "have b^en associated with tfaem at an
■early period ; at any rate, their religious creed and prac-
tices as' staunch worshippers of Devi ( Kali, 'DurgS), the
Hindu goddess of destruction, had certainly no flavour of
Islam in them. Assassination for gain was with them a
religious duty,' and was considered a holy and honourable
profession. They had, in fact, no idea of doing wrong,
-and their moral feelings did not come into play. The will
of the goddess by whose command and in whose honour
they foUowed their calling was revealed to them through
a very complicated system of omens. In obedience to
these they often travelled hundreds of miles in company
with, or in the wake of, their intended victims before a
safe opportunity presented itself for executing their design ;
and, when the deed was done, rites were performed in
honour of that tutelary deity, and a goodly portion of the
spoil was set apart for het. The fraternity possessed also
a jargon of their own (Eamasi), as well as certain signs by
which its members recognized each other in the remotest
parts of India. Even those who from age or infirmities
could no longer take an active part in the operations con-
tinued to aid the cause as watchers, spies, or dressers of
food. It was owing to their thorough organization, the
secrecy and security with which they went to work, but
chiefly to the religious garb in which they shrouded their
murders, that they could, unmolested by Hindu or Moham-
medan rulers, recognized as a regular profession and pay-
ing taxes as such,' continue for centuries to practise their
craft. Both the fractions into which they were divided
by the Xerbudda river laid claim to antiquity : while the
northern, however, did not trace their origin farther back
than the period of the early Mohammedan kings of Delhi,
the southern fraction not only claimed an earlier and purer
descent, but adhered alsa with greater strictness to the
rules of their profession.
The earliest authenticated mention of the Thugs is
found in the following passage of Zi4u-d din Bami's
History of Firoz Shdh (written about 1356): "In the
reign of that sultan," that is, about 1290, "some Thugs
were taken in Delhi, and a man belonging to that frater-
nity was the means of about a thousand being captured.
But not one of these did the sultan have killed. Hegave
oriers for tham to -be put into boats and to be conveyed
iotj the lower country, to the neighbourhood of Lakhnautf,
where. they were to be set free. The Thugs would thus
have to dwell about Lakhnautl, and would not tipuble
thj neighbourhood of Delhi any more" (Sir H. M. Elliot's
Hitlory of India, vol. iii. p. 141). The first European
travellers who speak of them without mentioning their
name are Thevenot (1665) and Fryer (1673). Though
instances of Thuggee had been known to the English
rulers in India for many years, and sporadic efforts had
been made by them towards the extinction of the gangs, it
was not till Lord W. Bentinck (1823-35) took vigorous
steps in this matter that the sj'stem was 'gradually un-
masked, and finally all but stamped out.' His chief agent.
Captain (afterwards Sir William) Sleeman, with several
competent assistants, and. the co-operation of a number of
native states, succeeded in completely grappling with the
evil, so" that up to October 1835 no fewer than 1562
JThugs Lad been committed, of which number 332 were
hanged and 936 transported or imprisoned for life. "^It is
true that, according to the Thuggee and Dacoily Report
for 1879, the number of registered Punjabi and Hindus-
tani Thugs then still amounted to 344.M But all.of these
had already been registered as such before 1852. It may,
therefore, fairly be assumed that none are alive now, and
that the whole fraternity may be considered "as e.xiinct.r
Full particulars concerning the system of TImggcc arc given by
Dr Sherwood, "On the Murdorers called Phansignrs," and J. SliaV'**
spear, ■* Observations regarding Bradheks and Thegs"(l>oth treat-
ises ia vol. xiii., 1820, ot the Asialiclu^s^archis); [W. N. Sleeinaa,]
Jlamaseeana, or a Vocabulary of the Languaje nsal by the Thugs,
with an Irdroditctionand Appendix, Calcutta, 1836 ; the Edinburgh
licvieio for Jan. 1837 : (E. Thornton,! lUuslralions of tlie History
and Practices of the Thugs, London, 1837 ; Meadows Taylor.
Confessions of a Thug, London, 1839; Major Sleeman, yir/jori on
the Depredations coiH-natled by the Thug Gangs, Calcutta, 1840 ; J.
Hutton, Popular Account of thiThugs and Dacoits, London, 1857 ;
Yule and Burnell, Glossary qf^nglo- Indian^Collcquiat IVords
and Phrases, London, 1586, p. 696 sq.' _ (R.. R.)
THUGUT, Fr.\nz Maria vo.v''(173431818), foreign
minister of Austria, was born of humble parentage at Linz
in 1 734, placed in the Government school of Oriental studies
in 1752, and sent to Constantinople as an interpreter, in
1757. At Constantinople he rose from post to post in
the embassy, until in 1771 he became internuncius^or
ambassador. .In 1776, after the war between Russia' and
Turkey, he obtained from the latter power the cession of
the province of Bukowina to Austria. After thus crown-
ing his long service in the East and gaining the confidence
'of Maria Theresa, he was sent^by her withtiut the know-
ledge of her son, the emperor Joseph, to Berlin, to avert
hy a peaceful settlement with Frederick the Great the
threatened Bavarian war. In 1790 he was employed in
the negotiations of Sistova, and his next mission was to
Paris, where he entered into close relations with Mirabeau
as the friend of Marie Antoinette. On the invasion of
France' by the allied armies in 1792, Thugut was sent to
the scene of operations. It is well known that Kaunitz,
the veteran minister of Austria, condemned the terms of
the alliance 'with Prussia, as securing to Prussia the
annexation of a great part of Poland, while only holding
out to Austria an uncertain prospect of acquiring its
equivalent in Bavaria. Thugut, a politician of the same
school, viewed the new alliance with even greater hatred.
After the failure of the campaign of 1792 he formed the
deliberate opinion that persons around the duke of Bruns-
wick had been bribed by the French, and that the retreat
had been ordered in consequence. A few months later
the anticipations of Kaunitz were realized. ' Prussia seized
western Poland, while Austria remained as far as ever from
gaining Bavaria. The emperor Francis now dismii-.-.cd^
the ministers responsible for the Prussian "allinncc, ,and
called Thugut to power. From this critical moment .the
alliance was doomed, and the allied commanders thwarted
rather than assisted one another's operations on the eastero
"frontier of France. On the other hand, Thugut drcw|
nearer to Russia, and negotiated at St Petersburg for the;
seizure of Venice by Austria. With England he desired
to stand on a good footing ; but, while Pitt's object was the'
overthrow of the rsvolutionary Government, Thugut's was
simply the acquisition of territory for Austria. This dis-
crepancy of aim led to results exasperating to the English
ministry, such as the fall of Toulon, to- which Thugut
neglected to send the troops which he had promised. The
evacuation of Belgium in 1794, . usually attributed to
Thugut's treachery, was, however," due to the incapacity
cr intrigues of others. ^ In 1795, after the withdrawal of
Prussia from the coalition, Thugut obtained financial help
from England, gained from Russia a large share of Poland
in the last partition, and prepared to carry on the war
'against France with the utmost Energy. The campaigni
328
T H U — T H U
of the archduke Charles in 1796 drove the French from
the east of the Rhine, and Bonaparle, vi-ho had conquered
northern Italy up to Mantua, narrowly escaped destruc-
tion liefore this fortress. Hut for the genius of the
French commander and the wretclied character of the
Austrian generals and officers, the immense efforts made
hy Thugut at this time would have turned the tide of the
war. Defeat after defeat seemed to make no impression
upon his " world-desolating obstinacy ", and, even when
Bonaparte had advanced to within eighty miles of Vienna,
It is stated that the empress had to throw herself at her
husband's feet when in conference with his minister, in
order to overcome the resistance of the latter to an
armistice. The subsequent peace of Campo Formio was
hotly onndemned by Thugut, who tendered his resignation.
Then followed the congress of Ra.stadt and the murder
of the French envoys, long attributed, but without any
real ground, to Thugut himself. War was renewed ; the
French were driven out of Italy by Austrian armies as-
sisted by Suwaroff , and it was determined that the allies
should conquer Switzerland, and .so invade France where
the frontier is most open Thugut, now at the height of
kis power, and far more anxious to recover Belgium than
to overthrow the re()ublic, took the fatal step of withdraw-
ing a great part of the Austrian forces from Switzerland
at the very moment yhen the Russians were entering it.
The result was the destruction of the Jiussians by Mass^na
and the total failure of the campaign, followed by the se-
cession of Russia from the coalition. Still full of designs
for annexation in Italy, Thugut continued the war with
the help of England. On the very day when he renewed
his engagements with England the news arrived of the
bat'le of Marengo, which at one blow made an end of all
that Austria had won in Italy in the preceding year.
Nothing daunted, Thugut continued, during the armistice
which followed, his preparation for the struggle with
Moreau in the valley of the Danube; and, if he could
have inspired his master with his own resolute spirit, the
result of the war might have been different. But, while
Thugut was actually receiving the British subsidies, the
emperor, without the knowledge of his minister, surrend-
ered the fortresses of Ulm and Ingolstadt to Moreau,
in return for an extension of the armistice. Thugul's
(lassionale indignation on learning of this miserable act
IS impressively described in Lord Minto's despatches from
Vienna. He withdrew from office , but Lord Minto's pro-
tests compelled the eiii|)eror again to place in his hands
the direction of affiirs, which he held until the battle of
Hohenliiiden made all further resistance impos.sible. He
was then, in deference to French ii;flueuce, banished from
Vienna, and never resumed office. In his retirement he
was occasionally consulted, as after the battle of Wagram
in 180S), when he recommended the emperor to make
peace at any cost, stating that the existence of the
Austrian monarchy was at slaKe and that the dissolution
of Napoleon's empire was not far oft. After the overthrow
of Napoleon he returned to the capital, where he died
May 2'J, 1818. Thugut possessed many of the qualities
of a great man, — indomitable courage, calmness in danger,
vicvotion to public interests, enormous industry ; but all
this was spoilt by the persistent disregard of obligations
towards allies in the greedy pursuit of Austria's own
aggrandizement, and by the intriguing spirit inseparable
from this policy. The materials for forming a fair estimate
of Thugut's conduct of affairs from 1793 to 1801 have but
recently been given to the world. Of his private life next
to nothing IS known.
THI'LE was the name given by Greek and Roman
geographers to a land situated to the north of Britain,
which they believed to be the most northerly portion of
Europe, or indeed of the known world. The Erst writer
who mentioned the name was Pytheas of Massilis, Avhoae
statements concerning it liave been already given under
the heading 1'vtheas. Bui it is impossible for us to deter-
mine with certainty what those statements, which have
only been transmitted to us at second or third hand, really
were, and still more so what was tueir real signification.
It is almost certain that Pytheas did not himself profess
to have visited Thule, but had only vaguely heard of it»
existence, as a land of unknown extent, situated, accord-
ing to the information he had received, six days' voyage
to the north of Britain. This account was adopted by
Eratosthenes (though rejected by Polybius and Strabo),
and accordingly this unknown land became a cardinal
point in the systems of many ancient geographers, as the
northern limit of the known world. Nothing more was
learnt concerning it until the Romans under Agricola
(about 84 A.D.) accomplished the circumnavigation of the
northern point of Britain, and not only visited, but
according to Tacitus subdiied, the Orcades or Orkney
Islands. On this occasion, the historian tells us, they
caught sight also of Thule,' which in this instance could
only mean the group of the Shetland Islands. No further
account of this mysterious land is found in any ancient
author, except vague statements, derived from Pytheas,
but mostly in an inaccurate and distorted form, concern-
ing its position and the astronomical phenomena resulting
from this cause. It Is probable that what Pytheas really
reported was that at the summer solstice the days were
twenty-four hours in length, and conversely at the winter
solstice the nights were of equal duration, a statement
which would indicate the notion of its position in about
66° N. lat., or under what we now call the Arctic Circle.
The skill of Pytheas as an astronomer would have been
quite sufficient to lead him to the conclusion that this
would be the case at some point in proceeding northwards,
and the rapid changes in this respect that would be
reported to him by any navigators that had really followed
the shores of Britain to any considerable extent in that
direction would confirm him in the correctness of his views.
He had, too, a very exaggerated notion of the extent of
Britain (see Pytheas), and hence he would be led to place
an island which was six days' voyage to the north of it
much nearer to the Arctic Circle than its true position.
The statement of Pytheas on this point appears to have obtained
almost universal belief until the time of filarinus of Tyre and his
successor Ptolemy, who were led — apparently from their knowledge
tliat the proup of islands to which the name of Thule had been
applied by the Romans was really not very far distant from the
Orcades — to bring down its position considerably more to the
south, so that Ptolemy places the island of Thule, which he still
regards as the most northerly point of Euroiw, in only 63" N. lat.
Unfortunately this more reasonable view has been discarded by
many modern writeh, who have gone back to the statements of
Pytheas concerning the length of the day, and have in consequence
insisted upon jilacing Thule within the Arctic Circle, and have
thus been icil to identify it with Iceland. The improbability of
such an hypothesis, when we consider the state of ancient naviga-
tion. IS in itself a sufficient refutation, and there appears no re.oson-
able doubt that the Thule of Pytheas, like that of the Romans and
of Ptolemy, was merely an exaggerated and somewhat erroneous
conception of the large group of the Shetland Islands, of whitli the
l)nncipal, called Mainland, is in fact so predominant that the
whole may well have been considered as one large island rather
than a scattered group like the Orkneys. If we might trust to
the accuracy of Strabo's quotation (ii. 5, p. 114), that Pytheas
called Thule "the most northerly of the British Islands," this
would be decisive on the point , but unfortunately the verbal
accuracy of such references by ancient writers can seldom be relied
on, and Strabo had evidently never seen Pytheas's original work.
It appears, however, to be certain that Iceland was really visited
by some Irish monks long before its discovery by the Northmen,
and is described under the name of Thule by a writer named
Dicuil, himself an Irish monk, who wrote in the first half of th«
' " Dispecia est et Thult," Tac, Agrtc, c. 10.
T H U — T H U
329
9th '-^nti iry, m su**h a minner as tn leave no donbt that h\a state-
ment3 r<?ally r»f»r to th\t extensive but remoto island. See
Letroone, JiifJun-fus tur Diaiil, Picis. 1814.
THtJMMEL, MoRiTE Adoctst von (1738-1817), Ger
man writer m prose and v-erse, one of tbe imitators of
Wieland (see vol s. p. 541), was born M.iy 27, 1738, lo
the neighbourhood of Leipsic, was educated at Rosslcljen
and the universitj' of Leipsic, and from 1761 till 1783
held various otBces in the ducal court of SaxeCoburg
He died at Coburg on October 26, 1817 He wrote a
ccmic prose epic, Wdlielnnnf, lyler /ifr vermahlte Pedant
<'ir64); Du! iTvyulahon /ler Liflie (1771), a tale in verse,
/f^;.?f in lilt mitt'iglKhen Pr/ynn-ym vim Fronkreich (1791-
f?0-5), a romance in 10 vols. ; and Dfr heilige Kilian,
O'ii'r das Lithesjyiar (1818). An edition of his works was
published at Leipsic in 8 vols, in 18.54 -5f)
THUN1BERG, Carl Peter (1743-1828). an eminent
traveller, and one of the most distinguished botani.sts of
the school of Linnsus, was born in 1743. He became a
pupil of Linnaeus at the university of Upsala, where be
graduated in mecficine in 1770. Obtaining a travelling
scholarship, he visited Holland, whence he embarked on
a voyage of exploration to .Java, in quest of vegetable
treasures. He sailed as far as the Cape of Good Hope in
1771, and three years afterwards went to Japan, remain-
ing five years, engaged in making collections of plants,
and in observing the habits, manners, and language of the
people. On his return in 1779 he visited England, and
made the acquaintance of Sir Joseph Banks. In 1777
he was made demonstrator of botany at Upsala, and he
succeeded Linnsus as professor of botany in 1784
Thunberg published in 1784 his Flora Japontea , in
1783 he began to publish his travels. He completed his
Prodromus P/antarum in ISOO, in 180-5 his /cones Plant-
-arum, and in 1813 his Flora Capensis. Thunberg pub-
lished numerous memoirs in the Transactions of many
Swedish and foreign scientific societies, of sixty-six of
which he was an honorary member. He died in 1828.
THUNDERSTORM. All the more ordinary pheno-
mena of thunderstorms had, about 1750, been conclusively
traced to electrical charges and discharges (Electricity,
voL viii. p 6), so that they could easily be reproduced on
a small scale in the laboratory To the article cited we
therefore refer for their explanation. Some of the laws
of relative frequency of thunderstorms, in different places
at the same season or in the same place at different
seasons, will be found in Meteoeoloot (vol. xvi. p. 128).
A discussion of the cause of thunder, and of the circum-
stances which give rise to a crash, a roll, or a peal of
thunder is given under Acodstics (vol. i. p. 107). In
what follows, therefore, the rarer phenomena of thunder-
storms, and the possible sources of tbe atmospheric elec-
tricity, will be the chief points treated
There can be little doubt that atmospheric electricity,
at least in the great developments which characterize a
thunderstorm, is due in some way to water. Before a
great thunderstorm the lower air is usually at an abnor-
mally high temperature, and fully saturated with water
vapour, so that it is in a thoroughly unstable conditioa
Immense cloud masses, often miles in vertical thickness,
which produce almost midnight darkness by day in the
region of the storm, and which appear, when seen from a
distance, as if boiling upwards, are always a notable
feature of great thunderstorms. These are usually accom-
panied by torrents of rain, or by viole'nthail-showers. And
it is commonly observed that each flash of lightning is
followed, after a brief interval, by a sudden but temporary
increase in the rate of rainfall. At what stage of its
transformations the electrification is developed by water-
flabstance is, as yet, only guessed at, — though it seems
most reasonable to conclude that it is anterior to the
formation of cloud, ».e., to the condensation of vapour.
And, though the idea was at one time very generally held
and stdl has many upholders, it seems unlikely to be the
direct result of evaporation For, were it due directly
either to evaporation or to condensation, it rs almost im-
possible to doubt that proof would long since have been
furnished by careful experiment, even if made on a scale
so limited as that afforded by our laboratories. No trace
of electrical effect has been found to attend the precipita
tion of moisture , and the electrical effects, sometimes con-
siderable, which have been found associated with evapora
tion have always been accompanied by relatively violent
physical and mechanical actions which are not observed
in conjunction with atmospheric electricity It has been
suggested by some authorities that the electricity of a
thunderstorm is developed during the- formation of hail,
by others that it is due to tbe molecular actions which
accompany the diminution of total surface when two or
more drops of water coalesce into a single one. It has
been ascribed to the friction of moist against dry air,
and to the dust particles which appear to be necessary
for the condensation of vapour Again, it has been
suggested that it may be a mere phenomenon of contact
electricity, due to the impact of uncondensed vapour
particles on particles of air It is almost unnecessary
to observe that, whatever hypothesis we adopt, some
explanation must be given of two important points: — (1)
What becomes of the electricity equal and opposite to that
in each drop, which must be produced simultaneously with
it ? (2) By what means is the attraction between the drops
and the recipient of tbe opposite charge of electricity
overcome so that the drops may be enabled to part with
their charge ? It is to be presumed that gravity satisfies
the second of these questions. As to the first, it seems to'
necessitate the presence of something besides water, in
order that the electric separation may be commenced, and
thus appeare to be fatal to the capillary theory indicated
above. Whatever be the true source of the charge, it is
easy to see, by known properties of electricity, that even
an exceedingly small charge' on each vapour particle would
lead to a very high potential as soon as a visible drop is
formed, and that as a drop increases in size its potential is
proportional to its surface. That drops of rain are often
individually electrified to a very high potential is proved
by the frequent occurrence of "luminous rain," when the
ground is feebly lit up by the multitude of tiny sparks
given out by the drops as they come near it. The flakes
of falling snow, also, are often strongly electrified, so that
Smart sparks have been drawn from an umbrella on which
the snow was falling. But tbe law of electric repulsion
shows us at once that, as soon as the drops in a cloud are
sufficiently electrified, at least the greater part of their
charge must pass to the boundary of the cloud. When
this occurs, the nature of the further behaviour of the
charge presents no difficulty The reason for our singu-
larly complete ignorance of the source of atmospheric
electricity seems to lie in tbe fact that it can only bo
discovered by means of experiments made on a scale very
much larger than is attainable with the ordinary resources
of a laboratory The difficulties will probably be easily
overcome by the first nation which will go to the expense
of providing the necessary means.
Numberless other explanations of the origin of thunder-
storms have been suggested ; but the more reasonable of
these do little more than shift the difficulty, for they begin
by assuming (without any hint as to its source) an elec-
trification of the earth as a whole, or of the lower (some-
times tbe upper) layers of the atmosphere. Induction,
convection, lic, are then supposed to effect the rest.
330
T H U — T H U
Another and much less reasonable class of explanations
tlepends upon magneto-electricity. Some of these introduce
the so-called " unipolar " induction supposed to be due to
the rotation of the earth, which behaves like a gigantic
magnet. Of - this nature is the suggestion of Edlund,
which was t'ecently crowned' by the Academy of Sciences
of Parie,"^ That rapid variatious in the earth's magnetic
elements; such as often occur on a largo scale, as in a
"magnetic storm,", have at least a share in the productioii
of the aurora is a perfectly reasonable and even plausible
hypothesis, long ago brouglit forward by Balfour Stewart
But we have yet to seek the source of these variations. _, ^
The brightness of a flash of lightning is usually much
gti'derrated. It is true that it rarely gives'cvcn at night
an illumination greater than that due to moonlight."' i3ut
it must be remembered that Swan has' proved that the
impression of a flash on the eye depends upon the duration,
being nearly proportional to it, and steadily increasing for
about a tenth of a second. Now the duration of a light-
tiing-flash is (roughly speaking) only about one millionth of
b second. '. This is proved by the fact that the most rapidly
totaling .bodics_appear to bo absolutely steady when illu-
minated by it. Hence, if it could bo made to last for a
.tenth of a second, it would give near objects an illumina-
tion one hundred thousand times more brilliant than that
of moonlight. It must be remembered that the flash is
feet a more lino, but a column, of intensely heated air,
driven outwards from the track of the discharge at a rate
initially far greater than that of sound. (^
"What is called "summer lightning" or. " wild-fire !' is
ioinetimes a rather puzzling phenomenon. '" in the majority
of cases it is merely the effect of a distant thunderstorm.
It is also often due to a thunderstorm in the higher strata
of tho atmosphere overhead, — the reason why wo hear no
thunder being not so much the distance from the spectator
83 the fact that sounds generated in rarer air lose rapidly
in intensity as they are propagated into denser air. But,
besides these more common forms of the phenomenon,
there is certainly a form of sheet lightning which occurs,
without either sound or cloud, often close to. the spectator.
The cause of this is not at all obvious. ^ _ ^
But tho most mysterious phenomenon is whafgoes by
the name of "globe lightning" or ".fire-ball," a pheno-
menon lasting sometimes for several seconds, and therefore
of a totally different character from that of any other form
of lightning.; The fire-ball is almost incomparably less
brilliant than forked lightning, because, though it lasts
long enough to give the full impression of its brightness,
it is rarely brighter than iron in tho state which we call
," red-hot.",. , It is always spherical, often more than a foot
in diameter, and appears to fall from a thunder-cloud by
its own gravity, sometimes rebounding after striking the
ground. It usually bursts with a bright flash and a loud
explosion, occasionally discharging flashes of lightning.
No experimenter has yet succeeded in producing artificially
anything resembling these natural and intensely charged
Lcyden jars.
The term "thunderbolt," which is nowadays rarely used
except liy poets (and by tho penny-a-liners), preserves the
old notion that something solid and intensely hot passed
along tho track of a lightning flash and buried itself in the
ground. Two distinct classes of phenomena probably gave
ri.so to this notion. When lightning strikes the ground it
often bores a hole of considerable depth, which is found to
be lined in its interior with vitrifioil sand. This presents
uo dilllculty. But Aerolites (7.!'.) arc often found, in the
,lioIes winch they have made, still inten.seIy,.hot,-in conse-
quence of their rapid passage through theair'.' -A 'hasty
genemli^alion .sccnis to h;ive connected these two entirely
jindopcndinl phenomena, and thus given rise to the notion
of the thunderbolt,,, The ancient notion that a lightning
flash could occur in a clear sky is probably to be accounted,
for by the, occasional appearance of these^ltramundan*
visitors. ',
I The sulphurous smell of lightning,^which irvividly de?
scribed in the Odyssey, is now known to bo due to tho
formation of Ozone (q.v.).'
►.- For the precautions necessary to'prevent 'danger" from
thunderstorm, see Lightning Conductor. f^ "*'"
A whole volume of Arago's collected works is devoted to tliundct;
storms, and many important observations are to be found in the writ:
ingsofM. D'Abbadic and other scientific travellers. ;v (P. G. T.)
.' THUN-KHWA,' or' Thonegwa, a district in" thc'Pegu;
division of Burmah, lying between 17° 37' and 19° 28";
N. lat, and between 95° 53' and 96° 53' E. long., with
an area of 5413 square miles. It is bounded on the N.'
by Henzada, E. by Rangoon, S. by the Bay of Bengal,'
and W. by Bassein district The whole district is a large
deltaic plain, divided by the numerous' channels of the
Irrawaddy into saucer-shaped islands, with deep depressions
in the centre. The Irrawaddy traverses Th\in-khwa from
north to south, throwing off numerous branches until it
falls into tho Bay of Bengal. Geologically, ThCin-khwa
is comjrased of "older alluvial clay," differing from'thst
of the Gangetic basin in being less rich in lime.^^
The population of Thiin-kli'va in 1S81 was returned at 284.063
(males 150,131, females 133,032); Hindus numbcreil 723, Moham-
medans 16.')0, Christians C8'J4, and Buddhists 27,4, 237. - The largest
towns in the district aro Yandoon and Pantanaw, with populationj
(1S81) of 12,673 and CI?! respectively. The land is ninth less
fertile th,an that of the neighbouring districts. In ISSO-SO tho
area under cultivation w.as 349,259 acres, anil the cultivable arci
1,202,374 acrea The principal crops are rice, fruits, vegetables,
and sugar-cane. The total revenue realised iu the yi-ar 18S5-89
amounted to £194,737, of which the land contiibutcd £00.590.:
Thun-khwa was constituted a district in 1875, .Tnd its history previous
to that date is identical with that of Henzada, to which adminis-
trative division it originally belonged. During tho first liurmoso
war no resistance was od'ered to the Britisli in the district as it at
present exists except at the toivn of Donabyu. At the time of tho
second war Donabyu was undefended, but, after tie occupation of
Promo, Myat Htun, an cx-thugyi of a small circle, succeeded in
-collecting a body of men and delicd the Biitish. £arly in January
1853 the enemy were driven out of Donabyu, but on penctrnting
into the interior the British were forced to retire if In a subsequent
eng.agemcnt the British were driven back; bjit, the. enemy were
eventually dispcrecd and their works captured.
THURGAU, or Thdroovia, a canton of Switzerland
(ranking as seventeenth in the Confederation), takes its
name from the river Thur. : It is bounded on the N. by
the Rhine, on the E. by tho Lake of .Constance (the can-
tonal frontier being so drawn as to leave the town of Con-
stance to Baden), on tho S by a line running from Arbon
on the lake west and south-west to Hornii, and on the W.'
by a line drawn from Hornii passing cast of W'interthurand
west of Frauenfeld to tho Rhine, a little west of Diessen-:
hofcn and opposite SchalThauson. It is thus shaped like a
, triangle, of which the Hornii (3274 feet, tlie highest point
'in the canton) is tho apex, and comprises the middle basin
of the Thur. Its total area is 3Sr4 square miles, of which
322'G (or 84'G |ier cent.) is reckoned as "productive
land," GO'S being covered by forests, and G9 by vineyards.;
Of the "un]iroductivo " portion no less than 50'5 squara
miles consists of the cantonal share of. the Lake of Con-'
stance. According to the census of If 80, the population'
amounted to 99,502 (females being in a majority of 1000),i
an increase of C252 on tho census of 1S"0; of these, 99,026
are German-speaking. In' religion 'the- inhabitants aro
divided, there being 71,821 Protestants to 27,123 Roman
Catholics; the canton till 1815 was in the diocese of
Constance, and since 1S2S has been in tho reconstructed
dioce.se of Basel, though for some time after 1873 tho
Government would not recognize the authority of Bishop,
lachat, in consequence of his support of the dogma of
I
T H U — T H U
331
I
infalTThniry at the Vatican cotmci The capital is Fraaen
•£eld(5SIl inhabitants), and Romanshorn (population 3647)
is an important railway centre on the lake. The canton
ha? many small villages, and the population is chiefly
■employed in:agrlciilttirai pursnits, though cotton-gpinning
is rapidhfincreasing. The orchards are so splendid that
Ihurgau has been called " the garden of Helvetia." A
network of well made roads traverses it in every direc-
tion.
The Thurgan origmally-took in all the connbr, roughly speaking,
bcTn-e«u the Reass, the Lake of Lncems, the Rhine, and the Lake
of Constance ; b^t many smaller districta (Ziirichgau, Toggenburg,
Arpenzell, St Gall) -wEre gradually carved out of it, and the county
was reduced to-abotst the size of the present canton when in 1264
it passed bythe gift of the last count of Kybnrg to his nephew
Rudolph of BapsbuTg. eho»en emperor in 1273. In 1416 thecount,
Duke Frederick of Austria (a Hapsburg), was put under the ban of
the empire by the emperor Sigismund for having aided Pope John
XXni. to escape from Constance, and the couuty was overrun,
Sigismuud in 14 1 7 mortgaging to the city of Constance the appellate
jurisdiction in all civil and criminal mallei's (" landgericht " and
blulbaun") arising within the county, which he had declared to be
forfeited in consequence of Frederick's conduct. In 1490 some of
the-Coufederates, now becoming very eager for conquests, overran
and seized the county. Winterthur was saved, but in 1461
Fredericks son, Duke Sigismund, had perforce to cede the county
to the Confederates. Henceforth it was ruled as a "subject dis-
trict " by seven members of the League, — Bern, occupied in tlie west,
not bein^ admitted to a share in the government till 1712, after
one of the wars of religion. It was only in 1499 that the Con-
federation (then consisting of ten members) obtained from Constance
her supreme jurisdiction, through the mediation of the duke of
Milan, but there were still forty-two minor jurisdictions belonging
to various lords, spiritual and temporal, which went on till 1798
snd greatly limited the power of the Confederates. Thurgau had
hoped, but in vaiu, to be admitted in 1499 a full member of the
Confederatiou
At the time of the Reformation many of the inhabitants became
Protestants, and bitter quarrels ensued bet»,ien the Protestant
snd Catholic (the latter having a large majority) members of the
Confederation who had rights over Thurgau, with regard to the
toleration of the new doctrines in the "subject districtr" such as
Thurgau. By the first peace of Kappel (1529) the majority in each
"commune" was to settle the religion of that "commune," but
by the second (1531, after Zwingli's death) both religions were to
be allowed side by side in each "commune." Thurgau thus
became a "canton of parity," as it is to this day. Its rulers,
however, continued to watch each other very closely, and Kilian
Kesselring, one of the chief military commanders in Thurgau, was
in 1633, on suspicion of having connived at the advance of the
Swedes through Thurgau on Constance, seized by the Catholic
cantons and severely punished. In 1798 Thurgau became free, and
was one of the nineteen cantons of the Helvetic republic, being
formally received (like the other " subject lands ") as a full member
of the Swiss Confederation in 1803 by the Act of Mediation. It
was one of the very first cantons to revise, in 1830, after the July
revolution in Paris, its constitution in a very liberal sense, and in
1831 proposed a revision of the federal pact of 1815. This failed,
bnt the new federal constitutions of 1848 (of which one of the
two drafters was Kem of Thurgau) and 1874 were approved by
very large majorities. In 1849 the cantonal constitution was
revised and the veto introduced, by which the people might reject
a bill passed by the cantonal a.isembly. Finally, in 1869, the
'texisting constitution was drawn up, by which the "initiative"
(or right of 2500 electors to compel the cantonal assembly to take
any subject into coosiderarion) and the "obligatory referendum"
(by which all laws passed by the cantonal assembly, and all
financial resolutions involving a capital expenditure of 50,000
francs or an annual one of 10,000, must be submitted to a popular
vote) were introduced. The cantonal government consists of a
legislative assembly (now of ninety-seven members, one to cyery
250 electors) and an executive council of five members, both elected
directly by the people; 5000 electors can at any time call for a
popular vote on the question of the dismissal of either one or the
other Further, to show the very democratic character of the
constitution, it may be added that members of both houses of
the federal assembly are in Thurgau elected direct by the people.
The " conunuues " in Thurgau are of no less than eleven or twelve
varieties. The division of the lands, &c., of the old "burgher
communes " between them and the new communes, consisting of
all residents (with whom political power rests), was carried out
(1S72) in all of the 214 communes; but there are still thirty-eight
giiilds or corporations with special rights over certain forests, ic.
The best history of the canton b that hy J. A Puplkofer. of which a Becond
-Id r*nf mncL enlarged edition li now (1SS7) belne published
THURTI, or 'Ihoricm, a city of Magna Grsecia on the
Gulf of Tarentum, near the site of the older Sybaris (j.f.), '
but farther inland. It owed its origin to an attempt madej
in 452 B.C. by Sybarite exijes and their descendants to
repeople Aeir old home. The new settlement was crushed
by Crotona, but the Athenians lent aid to the fugitives, !
and in 446, or rather in 443, Pericles senL^out to Thurii
a mixed body of colonists from various parts of Greece,
among whom were Herodotus and the orator Lysias. The,
pretensions of the Sybarite colonists led to dissensions
and ultimately to their expulsion ; peace was made with
Crotona, and also, after a period of war, with Tarentum,
and Thurii rose rapidly in power and drew settlers from
all parts of Greece, especially from Peloponnesus, so that
the tie to Athens waa not always acknowledged. The
oracle of Delphi determined that the city had no founder
but ApoUo, and in the Athenian war in Sicily Thurii was
at first neutral, though it finally helped the Athenians.
Thurii had a democratic constitution and good laws, and,
though we hear little of its history till in 390 it received
a severe defeat from the rising power of the Lucanians,
many beautiful coins testify to the wealth and splendour
of its days of prosperity. In the 4 th century it continued
to decline, and at length called in the help of the Bomans
against the Lucanians, and then in 282 against Tarentum.
Thenceforward its position was dependent, and in the
Second Punic War, after several vicissitudes, it was de-
peopled and plundered by Hannibal (204). In 194 a
Roman colony was founded, with Latin rights, known for
a time as Copiae, but afterwards by the old name of Thurii
It continued to be a place of some importance, the situa-
tion being favourable and the region fertile, and does not
seem to have been wholly abandoned till the Middle Ages.
Its site, near Terranova di Sibari, is marked by consider-
able ruins of the Roman period (cf. Lenormant, in Acadany,
ivii. 73, and Barnabei, ibid., xvi. 65 tq.).
THURINOIA (Germ. ThUringen), a territorial term
without modern political significance, designates, strictly
speaking, only that district in Upper Saxony that is
bounded by the Werra, the Harz Mountains, the Saale,
and the Thuringian Forest ; but in common parlance it is
frequently used as equivalent to the Thuringian states, i.e.,
the group of small duchies and principalities lying between
Prussia, Hesse-Nassau, Bavaria, and the kingdom of Saxony *
The name is derived, with great probability, from that of
the Hermunduri, a branch of the great Suevic family , and
the ancient Thuringians, a heathen tribe first mentioned
in the 5th century by Vegetius Renatus, are believed to be
the descendants of that Teutonic people. The Thuringians
seem at one time to have occupied territories stretching
from the Elbe not far from Hamburg to the Danube at
Ratisbon ; but about 531 their empire was overthrown by
the united Franks and Saxons. The north part of their
lands fell to the Saxons, and was known for some time aa
the North Thuringian gau ; the districtr to the south of
the Thuringian Forest was called Franconia after its con-
querors ; and the name Thuringia was restricted almost to
the narrow limits to which it now properly applies. The
advance of the Sorbs to the east bank of the Saale about
the middle of the 7th century made the limitation still more
exact. Thuringia remained under Frankish dominion, and;
various Frankish counts ruled in the different "gaus",
into which it was divided. Christianity, if not introduced,
was confirmed in this district by the British Boniface , a
* The Thuringian states are Sale- Weimar-Eisenach, SaieCoburg-
Gotha, Saie-Meiningen, SajeAltenburg. Schwarrbuig-Rudolstadt,
Schwarzburg-SondershauseD, and the two principalities of Reuas, all
of which are separately described. Besides these, the term Thuringia
also, of course, includes the various "exclaves" of Prussia, Saxony,
Bavaria, and Bohemia which lie embedded among them.
332
T H U — T H U
bislio|.ric was founded at Errurt , and under Charlemagne
the Tliuriiiyiaa mark was the base of active operations
aaairi.-%t (lie heathen Sorbs. In 839 the title of duke of
TUuriiigia (dueatus Torimjubx) appears ; but that of land
grave an;ius to have superseded it , neither dignity implied
bOVLTcignly over the whole district. Otto the Illustrious,
duke of Saxuny (880), added Tharingia to his duchy, but
the union was not permanent About the beginning of
the r.'th ecntury Louis the Springer, builder of the Wart-
burg, rose to emini.'nce among the Thuringian nobles ,
and about 1130 his son, ako Louis, was appoint'ed land-
grave by the emperor Loiliair I Tburingia now began to
be a united land under one prince, and the landgravr*,
who acijuired the Saxon palatinate on the fall of Henry
the Lion of Sa'cony in 1180, rose to considerable power.
The last landgrave of this line was Henry Raspe
(1242-1217), brother and succe.>.>.or of Louis the Suint
His deatli was followed by a devastating war of succes-
sion between his niece Sophia, duclicss of Brabant, and
Henry the Illustrious, margraic of Meissen (1221-1288),
whose mother Jutta was a Tliurir.gian prince.ss. Peace
was finally established lu 1203. .Sopliia received Hesse,
and Henry took the rest of Thuringia. the general
history of which thenceforth merged in thnt <i Meissen,
and later of Saxony, although it uiaintained its separate
name. Thuringia was included in the admini.strative circle
of Upper Saxony (see vol xxi p 3J2, note 3) For i(>
subsequent fate, and the rise of ilie jircsent Thunngian
slates, see under SaXONY (vol. xxi pp 353 sq.).
The most striking naturBl feature nf TUurinxia'is tlio Thdribsian
Forest (Thuringrrt'-alJ), .■* r.iiij;f 'ir vf^^fn^ of hills. cxten>llli;: lii
an im-gular line fiom the n'-igl'biinrli..oJ of Eisenuch in the north
west to the Lobeqsteuier Kului on the Bav;\naD frontier on the
south-east, and forming the southim boundary uf Thuringia,
t.ep.-iraiin:' it from Franconia. On thw soutli cast it is ronVinueJ
»Ur.-ctly by the Frankeiiwalii Mountain? to tiie Ficbtelgebirge.
whieli IS in iinraeiliate connexion w^th 'ho Erzgebirge, while on
tlie north-east it approar-be-i the Harz Mountains, and thus takes
its jilaec in the great Sudetic chain of central Gennciny. The
lengih of the Thurin^'ian eiiaiu is 70 miles, and its breadth varies
from 8 to 2fi miles. It nowhtre nses into peaks, and only a few
of Its rounded summits rcaeh the height •)! srtOO feet . the successive
hills Qieli into eacli other in gentle umlulations. forming a con-
tinii'Mis nnd easily traced comb, and only the nottli west slopes are
prc' ipitoiis. and seamed witli winding gorges. This mountain-
riii;;*- em loses maii\ ch.irming and ronuinlic valleys and glens;
till ino.-»t prominent fv-atofi- of it<i picturesnue scenery i.^ foinied by
the hue fi'iests, ehirll) of pinCN .ind hrs, uhich cl-'the most of the
hilU Thi north x^esi pan of the system is the loftier and the more
delist ly wooded, is wt^l an the more beautiful, the h-ghest sum-
mits here are the Gtosnm Beerberg (S225 (eel), Sehneckojif (3179),
and the liiselb^rg (2!)57l. .ill in ihe duchy of Goth.-i Tlie south-
east part of the Thuringian Forest is the moie pf-[-ulous and in-
dustrial; the chief summits are the Kleferle (2851 feet) at .Stein-
lieid. the Blessberg (2834 feet) near Scbalkau. tlm Wurzelberg
(27-10 feet) near Oehe, and the Wetzstein (2719) near Lehesien
The crest of the Thuringian Forest, from the Werra to the Saale, i?
traversed by the Rennstei^ or Raiiistcig, a broad path of unknown
anli'iuity, though it is believed to be referred to in a letter of Tope
Oreijory III. -lated 738 The name means probably "frontier
path " ; and the [lath marlES in fact the boundary bi-tvveen Thiuingia
and Franconi.i. It may lie also regarded as p-irt of ibr- l-onndaiy
line l>ctween North and South Gennany. for dialect, customs, local
names and costume are difTerent on the two sides.
THUHTNGORUM LEX. See Salic La
THUHLICS, an ancient market-town of Ireland, in the
county of Tijiiierary, and the scat of the Catholic arch
diocese of Cashel, is pleasantly situated on the Suir. and
on the Great Southern and Western Railway, 4G miles
cast of Limerick, 29 wo«l from Kilkenny, and 87 south-
we.-.t of D'jblin. The cathedral of St Patrick is a beau-
tiful building, erected at a cost of X4.'),00D. The town
is the seal of other imprirtant Catholic establishments,
including an Ursuliiie conv.eiit, in winch is a large board
ing school for young ladies, a I'rcscntaiion convent; St
I'atrick'ti Catholic college (1S29) for ecclesiastical students,
where was held in 1850 the synod of Thurles, composed
of all the Catholic bishops of Ireland , and an establish-]
ment of Christian Brothers, who devote themselves to the
instruction of buys on the Lancastrian method. The town
has a considerable agricultural and retail trade. Th6
population was 5008 in 1871, and 4860 in 1881.
Originally the town teas called Durlas O'Fogarty In the lOth^
century it was the scene of the defeat of the Irihh by the Danes,
A pieceptory wa.s founded here by the Kmglits Tcinplai-s, who pos-^
sessed iheiiisilves of a castio erected e.aily in the l;Jth eeiiiiii> A
• astlo was siibM-iueiitly erected by Jame-. Hiitlei, hi^t lotd palatiuc-
of Tipperary, of whuh tdl recently a towel slill t- iii.iliied
THCRLOW, EnwARU TiiDULOw, Bm:on (1732-lSOC)^
was born at Bracon A»li, in the county of Norfolk, in
1732. His father was a cleigjinan, and beld successively
the livings of Little Aslilield in .SuiKdk and of Straiten St
Mary's in Norfolk. Hl:^ iiiothei Lli/.il.elli wa^ the daughter
of Robert Smith of A.^liliild. Thuih.w received lii> early
education at hornp. He was next jdaccd under the caro
of Mr Brett at Scarning, where he remained foi four years,
and was then sent to the gramiiiar school of Canterbury,
where he was considered a bold refractory clever boy. In
October 1748 Thurlow entered Caius College, Cambridge,
and speedily justified his school reputation. The dean of
the college, upon the extent and accuracy of whose classical
aciuircments grave sus[iicion rested, had directed him, as
,1 puiii.->hment for some act of in.subordiuation, to translate
a ihjpii r of the S/.ci'iti.r into Creek. Thurlow executed
his task with care, and then gave it for revioal, not to the
dean, but to the tutor o( the college. When reprimanded
for having thus infringed the college rules, Thurlow
retorted that he had carried his cxeici.sc to one who could
inform the dean whether or not he had obeyed his orders-
The insult was too g jve tor rustication, and yet too slight
to jiutify-expulsion Thurlow was therefore permitted to
withdraw his name from the college books, and he left Cam-
bridge without a degree (1751) He now took chambers,
and began regularly to keep terms in the Inner Temple,
which he had joined while still an undergraduate. He
was for some time a pupil along with the poet Cowper in
the office of Mr Chapman, an eminent. solicitor in Lincoln's
Inn. On 22d November 1754 Thurlow was called to the
bar, and subsequently went on the we.stern circuit — at
first with little success. But the tide turned. In the
case of Luke Robinson v. the Earl of VVinchelsea (1758)
Thurlow came into collision with .Sir Fletcher Norton,
then the terror of solicitors and the. tyrant of the bar, and
put down his arrogance with dignity and success. From
this time his practice increased rapidly In December
1761 he was made a king's counsel, through the intluenco
of the duchess of Qucensberry. In January 17G2 he was
elected a bencher ol the Inner Tem|ile. It now became
necessary for him to take his side in politics, and, after
repeated oscillations, and wjth some hesitancy, Thurlow;
threw himself into the ranks of the Tory parly. In May
1768 he became member for Tamworlh. In 17C9 the
Douglas Peerage case came on for hearing in the House of
Lords, and Thurlow, who had drawn the pleadings some
years before (NUcs ami Qwrifs, 3d ser., iii. 122), led for
the appellant in a speech of great ability and analytic'
power In March 1770, as a recognition of, his defence ia'
the previous January of the expulsion of Wilkes, Thurlow
was made solicitor-general on the resignation of Dunning,
and ill the following year (23d January 1771), after he
had enhanced his reputation "itii the Oo\crnnu-iil by
attacking the rights of juries in cases ot libel (Kex v.
Miller, 20 .Stale I'riuh, 87()-8!)ri) ;iik1 the liberty of the
press (16 f'arl(/. II i.-! , 1111). Wii> r.ii.-ed U) the altoniejy
general.->liip. Thui'iw's public lib- was , as faiiiuusas hia
youth had been daring Ills violent hatred of tlic Amer-
ican colonists, and his extreme and ijin>rudent_assQrtioa
I
T H U— T H.
V
333
that as attorney general he might set aside by scire facing
as, fdrfeiti'd every charter in America (debate^ on the
American Prohibitory Bill, IS P. H., 999) ; his speech in
aggravation of punishment in the case of HorneTooke (20
St. Tr., 777-/783), when he argued that the prisoner ought
to be pilloried, because imprisonment was no penalty to
a man of sedentary habits and a fine would be paid by
seditious subscription ; and his consistent opposition to all
interference with the slave trade, — are characteristic of the
man. In 1 77S Thurlow became lord chancellor and Baron
Thurlow ojf Ashfield (June), and took his seat in the
House of Lords, where he soon acquired an almost dicta-*
lonal powp. , He resolutely opposed, the economical and
constitutional reforms proposed by Burke and Dunning.
Under Rockingham he still clung to the chancellorship,
v.hile conducting himself like a leader of the opposition
To^lhe shortlived ministry of Shelburno he gave a con-
sistent support.' Under the coalition of Fox and North ^
(April, to December 1783) the great seal was placed in
commission, and Lord Loughborough was made first com-
missioner.' But -Thurlow, acting as the king's -adviser,,
and in accordance, with, his wishes, harassed the new
ministry, and ultimately secured the rejection of Fox's
India Bill (24 P.- If., 22G). \Tlie coalition was at) once
dissolved. ^ Pitt accepted office, and Thurlow again became
lord chancellor {December .23, 1783). At first he sup-
ported the. Government heartily, but soon his overbear-
ing temp'er asserted itself... Imprudently relying on the
friendship of the king, and actuated by scarcely disguised
enmity to Pitt,- Thurlow passed rapidly from occasional
acts of hostjlity to secret disaffection, and finally to open
revolL^He delivered himself strongly against a bill, intro-
duced without his privity, for the restoration to the heirs
of £4tainted owners of .estates forfeited in tbe Jacobite
rebellion of ,1745. Partly to please the king and queen,
partly from" dislike" to Burke, and partly perhaps from a
real belief,, in the' groundlessness of the accusation, he
supported iVVarren . Hastings on every occasion ..".with
indecorous^iolence." .His negotiations with ,the Whigs'
during the .discussion, of the Regency Bill (1788-19tl)
February 1789) went beyond the limits of mere perverse
coquetry,-.and : were designed to secure his seat on the
woolsack in the event of Fox being called to powea' The
climax was reached in 1792, when he virulently attacked
Pitt's bill " to establish a sinking fund for the redemption
of/\thc',national debt," not on account, of the economic
objections to which it w£& justly liable, but on the trivial
ground^that it was an unconstitutional attempt to bind
future parliaments. ' The bill was carried, but only" by a
narrow majority, and Pitt, feeling that co-operation with
such a colleague was impossible, insisted successfully on
his dismissal (June 15, 1792).:^ The ex-chancellor, who
had a few, days before (.June 12) been created Baron
Thurlow of Thurlow, with remainder to his brothers and
their male descendants, now retired into private life, and,
with the exception of a futile intrigue, under th^ auspices
of_the prince of Wales, for the formation of a ministry
from which Pitt and Fox should be excluded, and in which
the earl of Moira -should be "premier and Thurlow chancellor
(1797), fina^ abandoned the hopes of office and the
dictatorship which he tad so long exercised in the House
of.Lords. In 1795 he opposed tlic Treason and Sedition
Bills. without success. In 1801 he spoke on behalf of
HorneTooke — now his friend — when a bill was introduced
to, render a priest in orders ineligible for a seat in the
House of Commons. "His last recorded appearance in the
1 louse of Lords wasjon May 4, 1802. He now spent his time
between his villa at Dulwich and Brighton, Bognor, Scar-
borough, and Bath. Hi" died at Brig^iton on 12th Septem-
ber 1 806, and was buried in thfi Temple church. Thurlow
wag never married, but IsLt three natural daugVters, for
whom he made a handsome provision. Tbe title descended
to his neplTew, son of the bishop of DurhaYn.
Lord Thurlow w.is a niastiT of a coarse caustic wit, which habitu-
ally to hi.^ private and too froniiciitiy in his public lifo displayed
itself in profanity. He was a j^ood classical scholar ajid made
occasional translations in vci^e from Homer and Euripides. His
judjcifll and his ecclcsinstical jiatranage was wisely eicereised'; he
was the patron of Dr .lohnson and of Ciabbc, and was the first to
detect the gteat legal merits of Eldon. Tliurlow's ]iersonal ap-
pearance was striking.'*^ His^d.uk complexion, harsh but regular
features, severoand'digfiifiod demcanonr. piercing black eyes a\id
bnshy eyebrows, doubtless eontribnted to his professional and
political eminence and provoked tlie sarcasm of Fox that he lookxi
wiser than any man ever wns.' Yet he was far from being an
impostor. By intense though irregular application he had ac.
quired a wide. if not a profound knowledge of law. Clear. headed,'
self.conP.deDt, and fluent, able at once to reason temperately and
to assert strongly, capable of grasping, rapidly assimilating, and
forcibly reproducing minute and complicated details, Jic possessed
all the qualities which command success. His speeches in the
trial of the_duchess of Kingston for bigamy (20 S. T., 355-651)
are singularly vigorous and effective, while his famous opening in
the Douglas Peerage 'case and his argument for the crown in
Campbell u Hall (20 S. T., 312-316) show that he might have
rendered high service to the judicial literature of his country had
he relied more upon, his own industry ..and_ Iiks upon tie learning
ofHargraveand Kenyon
.Sco Lorii Ciimpbcirs Livu of the Chanceltrirs, vSI, 153-333; Foss's Judgel r/
Engtahit, viii. 3H-.nSj; Publtc Characters, I79B; l^oteB and Queries, 2d Kcr., 111.
2.^.1. 3il 'srr . iii. 12'?; Reports fit Iiis (Ipcislnns by Blown. Dickens, and V'esey
(^unioi). li\'o\isV,tim'^Statttmai<tflheTinieo/Oeorgetll.f (A. W. R.)
.THURSO, a seaport, police burgh, and burgh o£ barony
of Caithness, Scotland, is situated at the mouth of the
Thurso, on the" beautiful Thurso Bay; at the northern
terminus of the Highland Railway, 21 mfles northwest of
Wick, and 3C7 north of Edinburgh by rail. \ Tlie new
town, regularly built with broad streets and good houses,
is' steadily increasing in population. ";In , Macdonald
Square, now laid out with ornamental walks, there is a
statue of Sir John Sinclair (q.v.). Along "the sands
a promenade 300 yards in length was formed in 1882.
The town-hall (1870) embraces- a court-room and rooms
for the free public library and the museum, which contains
the geological and botanical specimens of Robert Dick,'
the ," Thurso baker," commemorated by Samuel Smiles,|
as well as a large collection of northern birds. In the
nerghbouihood are large quarries fpr Caithness flags, which
are cut and dressed in the town. They constitute the
principal export, but the trade of the port is hinder^ by
the inconvenience of the harbour. '^ There is, however,
communication with the south and west, and with Orkney,
by steamer from Scrabster piei*,"3 miles to the north. To
the east is Thurso Castle, the , residence of the Ulbster
branch of the Sinclairs. 'jThe^ population. in 1871..wa!j:
3622 and in 1881 it was 4026._"*'
Thurso was the centre of the Norso oower on the mainland whcii.
at Its height under ThorBnn (1014), itiul afterwards till the battle
of Largs- Count Mo<ldan. nephew of King Duncan, quartered his
army For a time at Thurso, which he" terms "the town of Caith-
ness," and was plentifully supplied by spoil till snrpiise.l and
slain by Thorkel in 1040. In the time of Malcolm U. tail ICilend
resiiled in the town. In 1G33 it was created a burgh of barony,;
and was the seat of the sherilT.courts.of^the county till they were
repioved to Wick in 1S28.
TH"i'ME. The" genus' TViymui (iiat, ord. Laliata) com;
prises a number. of fragrant faromalicTundcrslirubs, with
very small leaves^andj whorls lof smalljhlac llo.wcrs in the
axils of the leave* or. at tbc'ends of ^the^brancbcs.. The
common garden ;^thyme,'*a! native of (the Mediterranean
region, is Thj/mn,^ vulgaris: the wild thyme of our banks is
T. Strpyllum. Marjoram (Orifianum) is also closely allied.
All these, plants are remarkable for thcir'^Cssehtial oil, to
which their fragrance' is due.\ From this ojl' is produced
by distillation s, substance known as thymol, analogous to
camphor. U 'is hoinologous with ph'enol or carbolie acid,,
and may be used asa disinfectant and germicide.
334
T I B-'T I B
-TIBBUS, or Tubus, a nomad nice of North Africa,
occupying -the eastern section of the Sahara from about
12' where they are contenninons with the Tuareg Berbers,
bo about 24° E. long., and from Fezzan southwards nearly
io Lake Tchad, 25' to 1 5° N. lat. Their westernmost settle-
ments are the oases of Agram, Kawar, and Jebido, their
northernmost the distnct of Qatriin within the Fezzan
frontier, while south and south-east they merge gradually
in the Negroid populatioas of Kanem, Bomu (Tchad basin),
Wadai, and jiorth west Dar Fiir. But the heart of the
nation is con'-entrated in the central region of Tibestt or
Tu, whence they take- their collective name of Tib-bu or
Tu-bu, »«-, "people of Tibesti or Tu."' There are two
main divisions, — the northern Teda, more or less full-blood
Tibbus, and the southern Dasa, more or less mixed or
Negroid Tibbus. Somewhat more distantly connected with
the same family are the Baele of the eastern and south-
eastern oases and the ZoghAwa (Zaghwa) of Dar Kiir,
making a total population of about 190,000, distributed
as follows —
Teda (Tibesti, Qatrun, Kawar, Agram, &c.) . 29,000
Daaa (Borku, parts of Kanem, Wadai, Ennedi,
and Bornu) _ 51,000
Baele (Ejinedi, Wanyanga, Ouro, Win) 20,000
Zoghiwa (north Dar-Fiir) 90,000
190,000
The Tibbus, who are not expressly mentioned under this name by
any ancient or mediaeval writer, are usually identified with the
'Caramantes of Herodotus (iv. 183), whose capital was Garama
(Edrisi's Germa) in Phazania (Fezzan), and of whom Ptolemy al-
ready spoke doubtfully as Ethiopians (Negroes ?) : 'Oftoiv Si «ai
oi>ru;i' 1)5^ (ia\\oi>- /ildidruiv (i. 8). But Leo Africanus transfers
them to the Berber connexion, whose fifth great division he deals
■with under tha names of Gumeri (Garamantes?) and Bardsei. or
Bardoa. that is, the Teda of the Bardai oasis, Tibesti.' Lastly
Barth on linguistic grounds grouped them with the Eanuri of
Bornu, who are undoubtedly Negroes , and since his time (1852-53)
the Tibbus have been regarded oy most ethnologists as a Negro or
at least a Negroid people.'' Nachtigal, who has studied them
more carefully than any modern observer, sees good reason to
challenge this conclusion (op ciL, ch viL), and, although his
own inferences are somewhat vague, he supplies sulficieut evidence
for a solution of this difficult ethnological problem. There can be
no doubt that the Teda, or true Tibbu, probably identical with
the Tedamansii, a branch of the Garamantes, placed by Ptolemy
south of the Samamycii in Tripolitana,* are physically a Hamitic,
not a Negro people, closely resembling their western Tuareg
neighbours. They are a pure homogeneous race, who have for
ages undergone no perceptible change in their rocky homes, and
who are still distinguished by the regular features, long black
ringletty hair, haughty bearing, and fierce expression common to
ao taany of the Berber and other Hamitic peoples. Mostly of
middle size, they are finely proportioned in all their Umbs, except
the somewhat too small hands and feet, with lighter complexion
than that of the southern Dasa, and no trace of the flat nose, thick
tumid lips, or other marked characteristics of the true Negro
*' Their women are charming while still in the bloom of youth,
unrivalled amongst their sisters of North Africa for their physical
beauty, pliant and graceful figures" (Keane's Jiecliis, xi. p. 429).
But there has been a general displacement of the race southwards .
»nd, while only a few still linger in the northern Qatrun and Kufara
districts, large numbers have since mediaeval times penetrated into
the Kanem, Bornu, Wadai, and Dar-Fur regions of central Sudan.
Here they have everywhere merged with the natives, so that in the
Dasa, Kanembu. Kannri, Baele, and Zogbawa groups the Tibbu
' Cf, "Kanem-bu = people of Kanem, bu bemg the plural personal
postfix answering to the Bantu prefix ba, 7ca (Ba-Suto, Wa.Ganda,
&c. ), and to the 6^ of Ful-be = Ful people or Fulahs from Piil Id
Tedaga the root fii means "rock", hence Tu bu = " rock-dwellers,"
as described by Hnrodotus and as explained in their Arab designation
lUshiklfh, from reshad — mc'kt hllL
' See Vatcr. MUhndalea. iL p. 45 of Berlin ed. 1812, and Nachtigal.
Sdhara vnd Siuian, 1881. ii. p. 189.
• " tlrsprtinglich ein Negervolk." Lepsius, Nubische OrammalJc
{Mnkilyng), BerliD, 1880
* The orifrioal iobabitants of the Kufara (Kufra) oasis in south
Tripolitana were Teda, some of whom stiU survive in a small hamlet
south of Jebel Nari. Since the beginning of the 18th century they
have been replaced elsewhere in Kufara by the Zwiya Arabs from the
Leahkerreb oases
race presents all the shades i transition between the true Ne^t)
and the true Hamttn that aru also found to prevail between ihq
tilacks of weeteru Sudan and the Tuareg Berbers, and between th^
Nuboa and other eastern Sudan Negroes and tho Hamitia Oallafl,
Surndli, and Bejas.
The same traniitionaJ stages are observed in tha Tibbu fbrmis^f
sj»ce.ch, which consfjtuto a wide-spread linguistic family, whose most
archaic and purest branch Ls tho Tedaga of Tibesti (Nachtigal).
Through the southern Dasaga the Tedaga merges in the more
highly dcvclope-I and more recent Kaueui, Bnniu (Kauun), Ennedi
(Baele), and-jL>ar Fur (Zoghawa) dialects, wliicli, owing to thv ab-
si'n'W of grammatical gender ami some utlur structural features, are
usually classed as Negro- languages. But a Negro tongue could
not have ariseu among the Hamites of the TiK-jti uplands, and the
explanation of tliis lingnistic difficulty im obnously Uie same as
that of the physical puzzle. The Negro altiuitius of the southern
members -of the- group have arisen through assimilation with the
original and now partly displaced Negro idioms of centhil Sudan.
There remains the final difficulty that Tedaga itself has absolutely
nothing in Common with the Berber or any other Hamitic tongue.
If therefore it is neither Hamitic nor Negro, the only t^vo stock
languages recognized by fjcpsius in Afri<a (op. ciL, passim)^ how is
a to bo placed? First of all Lcpsiuss hasty generalization, wholly
inconsistent as it is with the conditions occurring in other pans of
the continent, must be unhesitatingly rejected Room having
thus been found for other linguistic families, the Tedaga of Tibesti
may be readily explained as an independent evolution from a
primeval Tibbu-Berber germ, analogous to other linguistic evolu
tions in other isolated or inaccessible highland regions, such as tb«
Caucasus, the Pyrenees, and the Anahiiac tableland The common
germ, essentially evanescent in its nature, has long since perished,
or can no longer be detected, and the Tibou and Berber languages
stand side by side as now fundamentally distinct, while the two
races still remain physically one. The Tibbus are therefore a
Hamitic people, who in their secluded rocky homes have had time
to evolve an independent form of speech, which southwards has
become largely assimilated to the Suaanese Negro dialects
Lying on the track of the great caravan route between
Fezzan and Lake Tchad, the Tibbus have always been a
predatory race, levying blackmail on the convoys passing
through their territory, maintaining intertribal feuds, and
carrying on constant warfare with the surrounding Berber
and Sudanese populations. This, combined with tho
severe struggle for existence m their inhospitable upland
valleys, has rendered them harsh, greedy, and suspicious,
— sentiments reflected in their hard features and stern
expression. Till comparatively recent times all were
pagans, whence the term Kufra (Kufara), "Land of the
Unbeliever," applied by the Arabs to the southern oases
of Tripolitana. But for two or three centuries they have
been zealous Mohammedans, and some have even ktely
been brought within the influence of the political Senusiya
sect (see Teipoli, below). They are a frugal race, living
mostly on goat's milk, dates, berries, dunha, and the fruit
of the diim palm , nevertheless they are of robust con-
stitution and remarkably agile. They are also intelligent,
crossing the wilderness by a sort of instinct quite unintel-
ligible to the stranger, and in all ordinary transactions
they display surprising tact and shrewdness. The tribal
organization embraces dnrdai or headmen, matnaor nobles,
and the common folk, while the unwritten law of custom
rules supreme over all classes. The women, who are orderlj
and industrious, are well treated, and the polygamy allowed
by the law is little practised But the vendetta is still b,
social institution (a b K.>
TIBER. See Italy, vol xjii pp 438 439 l
TIBERLAS, now TABARtv/v. a city of Palestine, on tBI>
western shore of the Sea of Galilee or Lake of Tiberia^ '
occupies a narrow strip of plain under a bill in a feverish
but fertile situation Recent estimates place the popula-
tion at from 2000 to 3000,— about half the inhabitants
being .Tews, and many of i he laltir immigrants from Poland.
The streets are indescribably 6lthy, and an Arab sayitig is
that "the king of the fleas holds his court at Tiberias"
The walls of the town and the castle on the north were
in great part ruined by ao earthquake m 1837, when half
the population perished The most uiterestmg building
T I B— T I B
335
is a very ancient synagogue by the lake, the lower story
of which is said to have been unaffected by the earthquake.
Outside the town are the plastered monuments (" whitod
sepulchres") of R. Akiba and Maimonides. Half an hour
to the south are the famous hot baths mentioned by Pliny
(UN.. V 15 [71]) Jose[ihus calls this place Emniaus,
which has suggested an identification with Hammoth dor
(Josh. XXI 32) or Hanimon (I C'hron vi 76 [CI]), names
which perhaps point to the existence of thermal springs.
Tiberias was founded by Herod Aiitipas apparently not iK-fot** 26
A.D.,' and so was quite a new place at the time of our Lord's min-
istry in Galilee. And, though it became the capital c." Galilee, it was
at first a purely Creek city, which accounts (or its not appearing
among the scenes of the Galilxan ministry It joined in the war
of liberty, but yielded without resistance to Vespasian, and was
restored by him to its master Agrippa, on whose death in 100
it fell directly under Roman rule The place came to t>e a great
artit of Jews and Jenish learning: it was the residence of R. Judah,
the editor of the Mishoah , and, though the schools of Palestine
were ultimately overshadowed by those of Babylonia, the school
of Tiberias was still famous in the time of Jerome. According to
Epiphauius, the first Christian church was built by Constantine,
and from this time we hear of bishops of Tilicrias The Arabs took
Tiberias in 637 . it «as restored to Christendom by Tancred, but
yielded to Saladin in 1187 after the battle of lliiiiii It was again
in Christian hands from 1240 to 1247 In the middle of the 18th
•entury it was one of the fortresses of the renowned Sheikh Zahir,
who for many years defied the Turkish power
TIBERIUS (42 B.C.-37 a.d), emperor of Rome, whose
full name was Tiberids Clactdids Nero, was born on the
Palatine UiU on 16lh November 42 B.c When he became
a member of the imperial family, the court genealogists
made him out to be one of the ancient patrician Claudii ;
but the pedigree js at some points difficult to trace His
father, who bore the same name, was an officer of Julius
Caesar, who afterwards proposed to confer honours on the
assassins, then joined Mark Antony's brother in his mad
attack on Octavian, took refuge with Mark Antony and
returned to Rome when the general amnesty was proclaimed
in 39 B c Livia, the mother of Tiberius, was also of the
Claudian family, out of which her father had passed by
adoption into that of the Livii Drusi Early in 38 Livia
was amicably ceded to Octavian (the future Augustus), and
three months after her new marriage Drusos, brother to
Tiberius, was born. Livia had no children by Augustus, and
therefore devoted all her remarkable gifts to the advance-
ment of her sons. They were treated with high considera-
tion by the emperor, yet Augustus held firmly to the hope
that his throne might be filled on his death by one in
whose veins ran the blood of the Octavii , and not till
Tiberius was past forty did there appear any probability
that he would ever rise to be emperor He passed through
tie list of state offices in the usual princely fashion,
beginning with the quaestorsbip at the. age of eighteen,
and attaining the consulate for the first time at twenty-
nine From the great capacity for civil business which he
displayed as emperor it may be inferred that he applied
himself with determination to learn the business of
government
But from 22 to 6 Be and again from 4 to 10 a.d. by
far the greater part of Tibenus's life was spent in the
camp Hia first service was as legionary tribune in one
of the desperate and arduous wars whicn led to peace in
the Spanish peninsula through the decimation, or rather the
extermination, of the rebellious tribes. In 20 B c. Augustus
tent Tiberius with an army to seat Tigranes of Armenia
on the throne as a Roman vassal. As Tiberius approached
the frontier of Armenia,' he found its throne vacant through
the assassination of the king, and Tigranes stepped into
his place without a blow being struck. Tiberius crowned
Tigranes king with his own hand Then the Parthian mon-
arch grew alarmed and surrendered " the spoils and the
' Sde the discussion in Schurer, Gexh. d. Jnd. Vdka
127 «v-
slandards of three Roman armies The senate ordered a
thanksgiving such as was usually celebrated in honour of
a great victory The following year was passed by Tiberius
as governor ot Transalpine GauL In the next year (15)
ho was despatched to aid his broiUer Drusus in subjugat-
ing the Ra;ti and VmdeUci, pcofdes dwelling in the
mountainous region whence the Rhine, Rhone, and Danube
take their rise' Drusus attacked from the eastern side,
while Tiberius operated from iho «pper raters of the
Rhine, and by stern measures the mountaineers were re-
duced to a state of quietude, ana could no longer cut
communicatioiu between northern Italy and Gaul, nor
prosecute their raids in tioth countrie* Id 1 2 b.c Agrippa,
the great general of Augustas, to wbom tie may be almost
said to have owed his throne, and who was its chief sup-
port, died at tbs age of fifty-one leaving Julia, the
emperor's only child, a widow Agnppina, daughter of
Agrippa by an earlier marriage, *a» wife of Tiberius,
and had borne hun a son, Drusus, afterwards father of
Germamcua Livia with great dilficuJty prevailed upon
Augustus to replace Agrippa by Tiberius, who was com-
pelled to exchange Agrijipina for Julia, lo hij bittei gnef
During the year of mourning (or Agrippa, which delayed
his new marriage, Tiberius was occupied with a fictorioiu
campaign against the Pannonians, followed by successful
expeditions in the three succeeding summers For hif
victories in the Danube regions, the euiperor conferred
on htm the distinctions which Sowed trom a militarj
triumph in republ'can times (now first separated from th«
actual triumph), and he enjoyed the "ovation" or lessei
form of triumphal entry into the capital On the death
of Drusus in the autumn of 9 B.c Tiberius, whose reputa-
tion had hitherto been echpsed by thai of his iSrother,
stepped into the position of first soldier of the empire
The army, if it did not warmly admire Tiberius, entertained
a loyal confidence in a leader.who, as Velleius tells us;
always made the safety of his soldiers his first care. In
the campaign of the year after Drusus's death Tiberiuj
traversed all Germany between the Rhine and the Elbe,
and met with slight opposition. But it would be too muci
to believe the statement of Velleius that "he reduced
Germany almost to the position of a tributary province.'
He was rewarded with the full triumph, the military title
of " imperator," and his second consulship, though the op-
position of the powerful Sugambri had been only broken
by an act ot treachery, the guilt of which should perhaps be
laid at the door ol Augustus In 7 b.c there was anothei
but insignificant campaign in Germany Next year
Augustus bestowed on his stepson the tnbunician authority
for five years. Tiberius was thus id the most formal
manner associated with the emperor in the conduct of the
government ou the civil side but Tacitus (Ann., lii. 56)
goes too lar when he says that this promotion marked hun
out as the heir to the throne
Tiberius now suddenly begged permission to retire to
Rhodes and devote himself to study He seem? to nave
declined absolutely at the time to state his reasons for
this course, but he otistinately adhered to it, in spite ot
the tears of Livia and the lamentations of Augustas to
the senate that his son had betrayed him If we may
believe Suetonius, Tiberius determined to commit suicide
i)y atistention from food, and Augustus only gave way
when this design was all but accomphshed The depart-
ure from Italy waS as secret as it could be made Years
afterwards, when Tiberius broke silence about hts motives,
he declared that he had retired in order to allow the young
princes. Gains and Lucius, sons of Julia, a tree course.
There was perhaps a portion oi the truth wrapped up in
this declaration. Like Agrippa, who retired to Mytilene
' Horace, Odes, iv. 14
336
TIBERIUS
to avoid the young Marcellus, Tiberius had clearly no
taste to become the servant of the two children whom
Augustus had adopted in their infancy and evidently
destined to be joint emperors after his death. But it may
well be believed that Tiberius, unlike Agrippa. had no
burning ambition to see himself in the place destined for
his stepsons , and it may have been in his eyes one of the
attractions of exile that it released him from the obligation
to aid in carrying out the far-reaching designs which
Livia cherished for his sake But the contemporaries of
Tiberius were no douht right in believing that the scandal
of Julia's life did more than all else to render his po.sition
at Rome intolerable His conduct to her Irom first to last
gives a strong impression of Ins dignity and selfresfiect.
When at last the emperor's eyes were oi)ened, and he in-
flicted severe puni^iment upon his daughter, her husband,
now divorced by the emperors act, made earnest interces-
sion for her, and did what he could to alleviate her suffer-
ing At Rhodes Tiberius lived simply, passing his time
mainly in the company of Greek profcs.-,ors, with whom
he associated on pretty equal terms He acquired a very
considerable proficiency in the siudie> of the day, among
which must be reckoned astrology But all his attempts
at composition, whether in prost or verse, were laboured
and obscure. After hve years absence from Rome, he
begged for leave to return but tlie IX)on was angrily re-
fused, and Livia with dilhculty liot her son made nomin-
ally a legate of Augustus, so as in some degree to ved his
disgrace. The next two years were spent in solitude aud
gloom. Then, on the intercession of Gams, Augustus
allowed Tiberius to come back to Rome, but on the ex-
press understanding that be was to hold aloof from all
l>ublic functions, — an understanding which he thoroughly
carried out.
He had scarcely returned before death removed (2 \.d.)
Lucius, the younger of the two princes, and a year and a
half later Gaius also died The emperoi was thus left
with only one remaining male descendant, Agrippa Pos-
tumus, youngest son of Julia, and still a boy. Four
months after Gaius's death Augustus adopted Agrippa
and at the same tinte Tiberius The emperor now indi-
cated clearly his expectation that Tiberius would be his
principal successor. The two essential ingredients in the
imperial authority — the proconsutare vmpenum and the
tribunicux potestaa — were conferred on Tibenus, and uot
on Agrippa, who was too young to receive thenL Tibenus's
career as a general now began anew In two or three
safe rather than brilliant campaigns he strengthened im-
mensely the Roman hold on Germany, and established the
winter camps of the legions in the mtenor, away from the
Rhine.
In 5 A.D. it became necessary to attack Maroboduus,
who by combining peoples formerly hostile to each other
had constructed a formidable power, with its centre in
Bohemia, menacing the Roman acquisitions in Germany,
Noricum, and Pannonia The operations were conducted
both from the Rhine and from the Danube, Tibenus being
in command of the southern army Just as the decisive
engagement was about to take place, Tibenus learned that
Pannonia and Dalmatia were aflame with insurrection in
his rear. He was therefore forced to conclude peace on
terms honourable to Maroboduus The terror inspired m
Italy by the Pannonian and Dalmatian rebellion under
the able chief Bato had had no parallel since the invasion
of the Cinibn and Teutones. The four serious campaigns
which the war cost displayed Tiberius at his best as a
general. As he was about to celebrate his well -won
triumphs, the tenible catastrophe to Varus and his legions
turned the rejoicing into lasting sorrow, and produced a
profound change in the Roman jiolicy towards Germany.
Although Tiberius with his nepnew and adopted son Get
mamcus made in 9 and 10 a.d. two more marches into the
interior of Germany, the Romans never agam attempted
to bound their domain by the Elbe, but clung to the
neighbourhood of the Rhine. Tiberius was thus robbed
in great part of the fruit of his campaigns ; but nothing
can deprive him of the credit of bemg a chief founder of
the imperial system in the lands of Europe. From the
begmning of 11, when he celebrated a magnificent triumph,
to the time of the emperor's death in 1 4 Tibenus remained
almflst entirely in Italy, and held rather the position of
joint emperor than that of expectant heir. Agnppa Pos-
tumus had proved his incapacity beyond hope, and had
been banished to a o'jsolate island. In all probability
Tibenus was not present when Augustus died, although
Livia spread rejiorts (eagerly amplified by Velleius) of an
affectionate interview and a lingering farewell.
Tibenus ascended the throne at the age of fifly-six. \Miat stnitk
his contemporaries most was his absolute impenetrability. As waa-
•iaid of a very different man, the poet Gray, " he never spokr out."
All his feelings, desires, passions, and ambitions were locked behind
an impassable barrier, and had to be mterpreted by the very un-
certain light of his external acts It is recorded of him that only
once did he as commander take counsel with his officers concerning
military operations, and that was when the desti-uction of Vanis's
legions had made it imperatively necessary not hghtly to risk the
loss of a single soldier. He was an unparalleled master of passive
and sdent dissimulation, and the inevitable penalty of his inscrata-
bility was widespread dislike and suspicion But behind his defences
there lay an intellect of high power, cold, clear, and penetrating all
disguises. Few have ever possessed such mental vision, and he waa
probably never deceived either about the weaknesses of others or
about his own. For the littleness and servility of public Ufe in
regions below the court he enteitained a strong contempt It is a
question whether he ever liked or was liked by a single being ; but
he did his duty by those with whom he was connected after a
thorough though stem and unlovable fashion. As a general he
commanded the full confidence of his soldiers, though he was a
severe disciplinarian ; yet the men of his o^ni legions greeted his
accession to the throne with a mnQsy. Tiberius proved himself
capable in every department of theNtate more by virtue of industry
and appUcation than by genius. His mmd moved so slowly and
he was accustomed to deliberate so long that men sometimes mada
the mistake of deeming him a weakling and a wavei«r. He was in
reality one of the most tenacious of men When be bad once
formed an aim he could wait patiently for years till the favourable
moment enabled htm to achieve it, and if compelled to yield ground
he never failed to re'»ver it m the end The key to much of his
character lies in the observation that he had in early life set before
himself a certam ideal of what a Roman m high position ought to
be, and to this ideal he ngidly and religiously adnered- He may
m one sense be said to have acted a part throughout life, but that
part had entered into and inlerpeneti-ated his .vhole nature. His
ideal of character was pretty much that of the two Catos. He
practised sternness, silence, simplicirj' of Ufe, and frugality as he
deemed that they had been practised by the Fabricii, the Cimi,
and the FabiL That Tiberins's character was stained by vice before
be became emperor no one who fairly weighs the records can believe.
The persuasion entertained by many at the end of his life that he
had been always a monster of wickedness, but had succeeded in
concealing the fact till he became emperor, has^'ightly, but enly
abghtly, discoloured the narratives we possess of his earlier years.
The change which came over him in the 'ast years of his hfe
seems to have been due to a kind of constitntional clouding of the
spirits, which made him what the elder Pbny calls him, "the
gloomiest of luaakmd," and disposed him to brood over mysteries
aud superstitious. As this gloom deepeued his will grew weaker,
his power tended to fall into the hands of unworthy instrnments,
terrors closed iu around his mind, and his naturally clear vision
was perturbed.
The change of masters had been anticipated by the
Roman world with apprehension, but it was smoothly
accomphshed. Tiberius was already invested with th»
necessary powers, and it may even be that the senate was
not permitted the satisfaction of giving a fonnal sanction
to his accession. Agrippa Postumns was put to death;
but Livia may be reasonably regarded as the instigator
of this crime. Livia indeed expected to share the im-
perial authority with her sou. At first Tiberius allowed
some recognition to the claim , but he soon shook himself
VOL. XX III
Page 337.
T I B — T I B.
337
free, ant! laltr bccime estranged from Uis motbcr and luld
ho coinnmnication with her for ycai"s before her death Tlic
history of Tibtrms's relations with other nicinhcrs of his
family is hanlly less miserable Perhaps with any other
commander than Oermanicus the dangerous mutiny of the
troops on the Rhine which broke out soon after Tiberius s
accession wouhi have ended in a march of the discontcuted
legions upon the capital. The perilous episode of Arminiuy
caused the recall of Germanicus and his despatch to the
East on an hououmble but comparatively inactive mission.
|The prnJe aiid passion of Agrippina. the granddaughter
of Augustus and wife of Germanicus, tended to open a
breAch between lier husband and the emperor In his
Eastern command Germanicus found himself perpetually
svatched and even violently opposed by Piso, the governor
of Syria, who was suspected to have received secret orders
from Tiberius. When Germanicus died at Antioch in 19
A.D., the populace of Rome combined with Agrippina in
demanding vengeance upon Piso ; and the emperor was
forced to disown him. The death of Germanicus was
followed four years later by that of Drusua. These two
princes had been firm friends, and Livilla, the wife of
Drusus, was sister to Germanicus. Years afterwards it
was found that Drusus had fallen a victim to the treachery
of his wife Livilla, who had joined her ambition to that of
the emperor's minister of state Sejanus. When Drusus
died, Tiberius nominated two of Aigrippina's sons as his
heirs. But Sejanus had grown strong by nursing the
emperor's suspicions and dislike for the household of
Oermanicus, and the mother and the princes were im-
prisoned on a charge of crime. In his memoirs of hia own
life Tiberius declared that he killed Sejanus because he
had discovered that he entertained a mad rage against the
sons of Germanicus. But the destruction of Sejanus did
not save Agrippina and her two children. The third son,
Gaius Caesar (Caligula), lived to become emperor when
Tiberius died in 37.
Throughout his reifru Tiberius strove earnestly to do his duty to
the empire at large ; his guiding principle was to maintain with an
almost superstitious reverence the constitutional forms which had
been constructed by Augustus. Only two changes of moment were
intro^luccd. The imperial guard, hitherto only seen in the city in
small detachments, was by the advice of Sejannn encamped per-
manently in fuLJ force close to the walls. By this measure the tur-
bulence of the populace was kept in check. The officer in command
of the guard became at once the most important of the emperor's
neutenants. The other change was the practicaUv complete aboli*
tioD of the old comitia. But the senate was treated with an almost
hypocritical' deference, and a pedantically precise compliance with
the old republican forms was observed towards the senatorial magis-
trates. Tlie care expended by Tiberius on the provinces was unre-
roittinff. His favourite maxiTi was that a good shepherd should
shear tne flock and not flay it When he died he left the subiect
peoples of the empire in a condition of piosperity a^ch as they nad
never knowD before and never knew again. Soldiers, governors,
and officials of all kinds were kept in wholesome dread of. vengeance
if they oppressed those beneath them or encouraged irregularity of
any kind Strict economy permitted light taxation and enabled
the emperor to show generosity in periods of exceptional distress.
Public security both in Italy and abroad was maintained by a strong
hand, and commerce was stimulated by the improvement of com-
munications Jurisdiction both within and without the capital
was on the whole exercised with ateadineas and equity, and the
laws of the empire were at many points improved. The social and
(BOi-al reforms of Augustus were upheld and carried further. Such
risings against the emperor's authority as occurred within the
Roman domain wer« put do|wn with no great difficulty. The
foreign or rather the frontier policy was a policy of peace, and it
was pursued with con.'iideralilc success.^ With few exceptions tlie
duties of llio«Roman forces on the borders were confined to watch-
iii^-^ (lie peoples on the other sido while they destroyed each othcrJ
Oil the Rhine, at least, niasteriy iuftctivity achieved tranquilUt>7
wliiL-h lasted for a long period
'I'll* disr^jnitc which attadics to the roign of Tiberius has com c-
maiitly fioin three or foiu soimcl-s, — from the lamentable story ot
the imperial honsohold, from the tales ol hideous debauchery prac*
tised in deep retirement at Caprca; diiriiii,' the last eluvcn years ot
the emperor's life, from the tyranny whuli Scjanus was permitted
to wield in his master's name, and from the political prosecutions
.nnd executions which Tiberius encouraged, more by silent compliance
than by open incitement. Tlic stones of immorality arc recorded^
chicdy by Suetonius, w)io has evidently used a poisoned source,!
jiossibly the memoirs of the younger Agrippina, the mother ofi
Nero. Tiberius loved to shroud himsell in mystery, and such
stories are probably the result of unfriendly attempts to uplift
-the darkness. If history ventures to doubt the blackness ol
Theodora, that of Tiberius grows continually lighter under the
investigations of criticism. Suetonius makes the emperor's con-
dition to have been one of mania, issuing frequently in the aban-
donment of all moral restraint. 'But in that case the authority
of Tiberius, \*hich was as firmly upheld during the years spent at
Caprece as it had been earlier, must have fallen to pieces and come
to an end. With respect to Sejanus it is impossible to acquit
Tiberius of blame. If he was deceived in his favourite he must
have been wilhng to be deceived. He conferred on Sejanus a
position as great as had been held by Agnppa during the reiglt
of Augustus, and the minister was actually, and all but formally »'
joiut emperor. Of the administrative ability of Sejanus there can
be no question ; but the charm and secret of bis power lay in the
use he made of those apprehensions of personal danger which seerot
never to have been absent from his master's mind. The growth oJ
•'delation,'* the darkest shadow that lies on the reign, was in part
a consequence of the supremacy and the arts of Sejanus. Historians
of Rome in ancient times remembered Tiberius chiefly as the sove-
reign under whose rule prosecutions for treason on slight pretexts
first became rife, and the hateful race of informers was first allowed
to fatten on the gains of judicial murder. Augustus had allowed
considerable licence of speech and writing against himself, and had
made no attempt to set up a doctrine of constructive treoFon. But
the history of the state trials of Tiberius's reign shows conclusively
that the straining of the law proceeded in the first instance from
the eager flattery of the senate, was in -the earlier days checked and
controlled to a great extent by the emperor, and was by him
acquiesced in after a time with a sort of contemptuous indiff"erence,'
till he developed* under the influence of his fears, a readiness to
shed blood.
The principal authorities for the reign of Tiberiua are Tacitua aud tjuctonius^
The Annntu of TacituB were not published till nearly eighty years after the
death of Tiberius, He rarely quotes an authority by name. In all probability
be drew most largely from other histonanB who had preceded him ; to some
extent be availed bimaelf of oral traditiOD ; aQd of archives aod original records
he made aome, but comparatively little, uee. In hid history of Tiberiua two
influeocea were at work, in almost equal strength : on the one hand he
Btrivea continually after fairness ; on the other the bias of a man steeped ia
senatorial traditions forbids him to attain it. 1'acitua is certaioly not among
the historians in whom our confidence grows by repeated reading. Suetoniue
was ft biographer rather than an historian, and the ancient biographer waa
even less given to exhPastivo Inquiry than the ancient historian ; -moreover
Huetoniue waa not gifted with exeat critical faculty, though he told the trutt*
so far aa he could see it, Hia Liva qf the Twdvt Cu-sars was \vntten nearly at
the lime when Tacitua waa composing the Annals, but was published a littla
later. Velleiua Patercalus la by fhr the oldest authority for any part of Tibe-
rius's life. He had Iwen an officer under Tiberma, and he eulogizes hia old
general eDthuaiaatically, —feeling it necessary, however, to do less than justice
to the achievementa of Oerminicna. To Velleius all defenders of Tiberius have
eagerly appealed. Id truth it Is hia silence alone which aOords any ex'ternal
aia In repelling the charges of Tacitua and Suetonius, and the fact that Velleiua
published his work in the lifetime of his master deprives that silence of its
vil-ie. The eulogy of S^anua which is linked wjth that of Tibonus must iieeda
shi ke faith In the acnipulousness of the author. It is still doubLful whether
Di' CaaaiUB (whose History ended with the year 229) in hia narrative of th&
reign of Tiberiua ia toany great extent independent of Tacitus. In recent times
a considerable mass of inscnplious has added to our knowledge of the adminis-
tration of thia emperor. The chief account of Tiberius in English is thatt
contained in Dean Menvale'a History 0/ the Romans uiuicr fhe Empire. Mr
Beesly has written an interesting defence of him in his Cadlme, Godhis, and
Tiben-iLS. The best recent history of this period is Hermann Schillers Ce*
schirJiU der romuchen Kaiserzett (Gotha, 1883). Numerous monographs relating
to the reign have appeared In recent times on the Continent. The pnaciples
of the imperial administration of the provinces oy Tiberius have been treated
by Mommsen in the fifth volume of hia History 0/ Home, translated into English
under the title of The Rovian Provinces from Augustus to Dioclctiah. (J. 3. R.J
TIBKSTL Seo Sahaka, vol. xxi. p. 149, and TiBBaa..
TIBET
Platerv.nniBET,! Thibet, or Tubet, an extennive and highly
A. elevated region in the heart of Asia, comprising
tablelands ranging from 10,000 to 17, GOO feet above eea-
' The Bacie Tibet iu^pt, fl£ naualiy alleged. Moknown ia the couatry
3—14 '
level. The Himalayan mountain ranges and the transvcr.se
ranges of upper Yun-nao constitute the sonthern scarp,
itself, though only foand there in an attenuated fona. The following
formo are also mot with in Chinese annals T'u-tat (6th cent.) ftnd
XXIII. — 43
338
T 1 BET
Igeoceapht
Bonnd- ii\B Yun-Iing MountamF of China the eastern scarp, and
•"** the Kuen-Lun ^Kjun-Luni ranges the northern scarp,
toxi^rds TnrkestaD ind Mongolia on the west, where it
aarrows considerably it merges into the Pamir tablelands.
Its extreme length from east to west exceeds 1 600 miles ,
its breadth from "north to aoutb ranges from 150 mile.= in
the west to an average of 500 in centra) Tibet and %
maximum of 700 in the east The area of Tibet exceeds
700.000 square miles
Much of Tibet is wholJv abandoned to wild animals, and
much is nncultivable and occupied o"'v by various wan-
deniig tribes ol nomads The centres of the settled and
Nama Tie-lm-u, J^u-tm-te (lltb cent., lu Mongolian, ruiei Tobot; in
Arabic Tvl^t: Rabbi Beniamin U1G5). Thibet; i de Piano Carpini
(1247), Thaiet; Rubruquis 11253). Marco Polo (1298), Tebet , Ibn
BatuU (1340), T?iahat Ibn Haukal (976|, Al Birum (1020), Odoric
of Pordenone (c 1328), Orazio deUa Penna (1730;, Tibet A Tibetan,
arriving at Darchiendo from Lhasa, states that he comes from Teu-peu,
vneaniDg High or Upper Tibet. — Stod-Bod in contradistinction to Smad-
Bod-TT Lower Tibet The t'ormer expression, were it supportel by
dny ancient authority, might be regarded as the etymological origin
of-^* Tibet " historical evidence, however, seems to indicate another
source. The state of which Lhasa Is the capital is often called '* Deba
joDg ' or ■ ' land of the Oebas " (sdepa Ijongs) The title of the tepa
lama is tamiliar Chinese records say that the king of the country is
called diba and Joh. Grueber informs us that the king is styled deiu
or tera. and is descended from an ancient race of Tangut Tatars. The
Chinese annalf of the T'ang dynasty record that Fanni Tubat, the
^listohcal founder of a state in the east of Tibet in 433, gave to his
-dominion his surname of Tubat. This was a famous family name
^iroper to several Tatar dynasties which ruled in the nortB and north-
west of China, and belonged to the Sien-pi race, id the language of
■which tvbal meant '*a coverlet" An appended legend stated that
^the fifth- ancestor of Liluku, the founder of the southern Liang dynasty
-and family and father of Fanni, derived the surname of Tubat, which
'became that of his family, from the fact that he was bom m a cov/arlet
while his mother Huykshe was sleeping However worthless the
legend, there'is complete similarity between the name of the Tubat or
'Tobat Tatars and that of Tibet, and we may with considerable safety
take the latter woni as derived from the former, the fact bemg that
at was and is stiU extensively used in the sense of *'great" "chief,"
among the Tatar tribes Tibet, however, is not the name by which
Hhe modem Tibetans designate themselves and their country Bod-pa,
"a man of Bod," Bod-ynl. "country of Bod.* are the expressions
rm current use but what " Bod *' means Li uncertain. Hodgson has
mialntamed that before the arrival of Indian teachers the people
3iad no name for themselves or their country, and the present Bod
•jximes trom the Sanskrit B'6t — an opmion which, though inconsistent
with tlk» evidence collected about Tdbat. is rather confirmed by a
legendary account According to that account, the country, which
■was occupied bv a race of men not yet emerged from primitive bar-
barism, was onginally called Bod-rgyal, i.e, " Bod's victory ' The
-secondary name then might be in its simple form Bod, g Buddhist
Appellative suggested by the Sanskrit homonyms of -hat or -b'at, part of
-the name brought in by the Tatar conquerors Anyhow there is no
■occasion for the other etymologies suggested, such as that from
Buddha, or that proposed by Schiefner (f'wi and pod, both meaning
*'able*' ** capable "\ An old name for Tibet in the native books is
■tjdong-mar-gyi-yul. "country of the red-faced men. so called ap-
■parently from the ancient national custom of painting the tace red, —
.a practice which was -forbidden by King Srong-btsan at the instance
-of his wife Wan ch'eng, a Chinese princess Among the Mongols
Tibet was simply called Barontala (the "nghtside"). in contradis-
■tinction to Dzontala (the " left side "), which was among them the
aiame of Mongolia In China, dunog the Yuan or Mongol dynasty, it
was called Wei-sze-Tsang, id which we recognize the names of the two
■central provinces of DbUs (Ul and Tsang R.hachi. Khache, Khaschi,
Kashi, are vanous forms of a term which is often met with in books
as applied to a part of the plateaus of Tibet, and v-hich cannot without
■difficulty be identified in positive geography We lake it to be simply
31 revival of the old name of the Tangut or Hia kingdom, the Khashi
■or Ehoshl of the Mongols (982-1227), on the north-east of Tibet, on
■the west of the Hoang-io. whence Ho-si in Chinese history, and per-
1[iape the origin of the name In the 11th century Milaraspa made
■ose of the term K'ach6 for Mussulman ; Hue and Gabet have reported
"the use of the same expression in the central provinces with a similar
^acceptation A popular etymology has confounded it with the words
K'a-chp for K'a-cben. literally-*' big mouth." which is now supposed
to be Its meaning when applied to Mohammedans Kashmir is also
-called K'a-cbe. from the fact that it is under Mohammedan rule, says
..Jaeschke ; but. as this has been the case only since 1605, there is
igreat probability that here the l«rm is simply used as an abridged
iform of Kashmir |T. de L. )
agricultural population Up to the south, in a region
named Bod-yul (meaning Bod-land) by the inhabitants,
who are called Bod-pas by the Hindus it is called Bhot,
and bv the Chinese Si-tsang The greater portion oJ this
region la governed uno-ir the supremacy of China, by
lamas ana gyalpos. ecclesiastical and lay Bodpaii. the
principal seal of government bemg at Lhasa, the chief
city of Bod-yul Portions are subject to Kashmir and
Nepal and to independent chieftains, and portion." are
directly subject to China r but the Bod-pa ethnological
element prevails more or less throughout
Tibet was long a terra iricogmta to Europeans It if
diflScuIt ol access on all sides, and everywhere difficult to
traverse Its great elevation causes the climate to be
rather arctic than tropical, so that tiierS is no gradual
blending of the climates and physical conditions of Indi»
and Tibet, such as would tend to promote intercourse
between the inhabitants of these neighbourmg regions
on the contrary, there are sharp hnes of demarcation, in a
mountain barrier which is scalable at only a few points
and in the social aspects and conditions of life On either
side No great armies have ever crossed Tibet to invade
India, even those of Jenghiz Khan took the circuitous
route ma Bokhara and Afghanistan, not the direct route
from Mongolia across Tibet Thus it was no easy matter Ehp.-
for the early European travellers to hnd their way mto P""
and explore Tibet Friar Odoric ot Pordenone is sup-^"^'
posed to have reached Lhisa circ 1328, travelling from
Cathay ttiree centuries afterwards the Jesuit Antonw
Andrada, travelling from India, entered Tibet on the weak
in the Manasarowar Lake- region, and made his waj
across to Tangut and north-western China in 1661
Fathers Grueber and D'Orville travelled from Peking vt*
Tangut to Lhasa, and thence through Nepal to India ,
and during the first half of the 18th century various Capu-
chin fnars appear to have passed freely between Delhi and
Lhasa, by way either of Nepal or Kashmir The first
Englishman to enter Tibet was George Bogle, id 1774. on
an embassy from Warren Hastings u> the tashi (teaha)
lama of Shigatze In 1811 Thomas Mannmg made hi*
way from India to Lhasa he is the only Englishmaa
who has succeeded in reaching the sacred city, and he
had soon to leave it During the 19th century European*
have been systematically prevented from entering the
country or speedily expelled if found in it In 1 844-44
the French missionaries Hue and Gabet made their way
to Lhasa from China, but were soon deported back again.
In 1866 the Abb6 Desgodins travelled through portions
ol eastern Tibet and reached Chiamdo (in Kh4m), but
was prevented trom approaching any closer to Lhasa.
Last ol all the Russian Colonel Prejevalsky succeeded m
exploring portions of northern Tibet, but was unable te
penetrate southwards into Bodland
Geographers have long been in possession ol maps of Tibet, com- Uap*
piled from surveys executed early in the 18th century by lamaa, -
under instructions from the -lesuit fathers who ma^ a survey di
China for the emperor Rang-he The lamas maps were the basib
of D'Anville's AlUu, published in 1733. and were employed by
Klaproth m constructing his map ot Asia in 1824 but tney ar«
generally very meagre, only reliable in the vicinity of the principal
roads, and occasionally very misleading Thev must have beea
compiled at best from rude estimates of distance and direction, and
in some parts from mere hearsay or con.iecture They are. how-
ever, supposed to have been based on astronomical determinations
ol position ■ but this is improbable, for the latitude." ol such im-
portant places as Lhasa and Batang are 30 to 60 miles in error.
Our knowledge of the geography of the country is complete only for
portions of western Tibet, which are subject to the maharajah of
Ka-shniir, and have been regularly surveyed This knowledge has
been largely supplemented during the last twenty years by th»
work of natives of India— the so-called trans-Jlimalayau explorcn
of the Indian Survey, noUbly Pandits Nain Singh and Krishn»
(A — K)— who have been trained to carry route surveys througi
regions whictf they may, but Europeans may not, ent«i
CBO08*rnY
)
TIBET
339
Gtogr^-, Tibet is commonly divided into two parts called Great
phic»] a:id Little Tibet, -the former lying between 102° and 79'
1 -wots £ ,gj,^,_ ,|,j, mjg^ between 79° and 74°. Great Tibet is
broadly divisible into a western region, in which there is
a considerable preponderance of tableland over hill and
mountain and of lake basins over river basins, and an
eastern region, in which the reverse holds good and the
surface of the ground is so greatly corrugated that the
natives call it rong-rtsub, " a rough country full of ravines."
In Little Tibet the Himalayas converge towards the Kuen-
Lun.and the breadth of the plateau meridionally diminishes
to less than a fourth of what it attains in Great Tibet.
The entire region may be broadly divided into three longi-
tudinal zones, increasing in elevation from south to north,
viz., a southern zone, which contains the centres of the
«ettled and agricultural population ; a middle zone, com-
prising the pasture lands of the Bod-pa nomads ; and a
northern zone, for the most part abandoned to wild animals,
but partly occupied by tribes of Turkic and Mongolian
nomads. The southern and middle zones comprise Bod-
land proper and are divided into four provinces, viz., —
NAri (NgAri, Ari) on the west, between 74° and 85° E. long. ;
Kh.'lm, otherwise Do-Kh4m, on the east, between 92° 30'
and 102° ; and in the centre, Tsing, adjoining NAri, and
U or Us (otherw ise Y or Wei), adjoining KhAm ; the two
central provinces are commonly caJIed U-tsAng, as one. A
considerable belt of the middle zone is known as the Hor
country. The middle and northern zones embrace the
greater portion of the region known to Bod-pas as the
ChAng-tAng (ByAn-tAng, jAn-tAng) or " Northern Plain,"
which, however, protrudes southwards and abuts upon the
Himalayas from 80° to 85° E. long., thus inteq)osing a
nomad population between the settled populations to the
east and the west. The northern zone merges on the west
into the Pamir tablelands.
"TaWe- The tableland of Tibet attains its maximum elevation,
liod. 17_GOO feet above sea-level, on the 79th meridian, in the
Lingzi-tAng plateau of the northern zone ; thence there
is a gradual fall east, west, and south, the plateau level
on the 97th meridian being about 13,500 feet in the
northern zone and 10,000 in the southern. Between the
82d and 90th meridians the northern zone is known only
from the maps of the lamas' survey, which indicate a sur-
face slightly corrugated with hills and containing numerous
lakes, some of great size, but no rivers of importance.
iSfen. The river basins in this zone apparently commence to
the east of the 90th meridian and from them issue the
Di-chu' (Chinese Kin-shakiang), whose headwaters unite
at Dichu Rab-dun, in 94° 30' E. long. ; the Chiamdo
river or Lan-tsan-kiang ; the Hoang-ho.'in about 9G°,
which flows through the Kiaring and Orin lakes (13,500
feel above the sea and'each exceeding 80 miles in circum-
ference) and passes northwards out of Tibet through the
KuenLun ; and the Jair.u or Yalung-kiang, also in about
90° E. long., which flows s'outhwards through eastern
Tibet. In the middle zone a system of lakes on the 90th
meridian gives birth to the Nag-chu, which becomes the
Sokchu and lower down the Giama-Nu-chu — known to
the Chinese as the Lutse-kiang — and, trending southwards,
winds round the eastern extremity of the Himalayas. In
the lower zone the Indus and the V'aro-tsanpo rise on
either side of the 82d meridian and flow in opposite direc-
tions parallel to the Himalayas, and then, passing through
openings in those mountains twenty degrees apart in longi-
tude, enter India on the extreme east and west. The Lohit
Brahmaputra rises behind the eastern Himalayas and flows
* Tibttans ciU rivers either tsan^jo = river or f/ju=: water, the
former being chiefly employed in southern Tibet, as for the great
Yaro-tsaopo {Upper river) and its principal tributaries. Lakes are
called cho or tso. A mountain pass is calkd Id,
south-westwards into India. The Giama-Nu-chu, Chiam-
do-chn, and Di-chu flow southwards into Burma.and Yun-
nan, through closely contiguous valleys between a system of
meridional ranges which project as spurs from the Tibetan
plateau. West of 82° a single water-parting between north
and south — that of the Mus-tagh and Karakoram, some-
times called the Turkic — separates Indo-Tibetan from
Turko-Tibetan waters; east of that meridian there are
longitudinal water -partings between 1 the ., basins of the
several rivers already mentioned.
The Himalayan Mountains, which constituteso consider- Himal«'
able a portion of the southern scarp of Tibet, consist of a V^" '^■
succession of longitudinal chains, running in general paral- S'""'
lei to each other along the glacis of the plateau. These
chains are much higher on their southern than on their,
northern faces, and are connected In some parts by trans-
verse ridges, but in other parts are broken and interrupted
by fissures and valleys. The principal chain is the one of
high peaks covered with perpetual snow which culminates
in Mon't Everest, 29,000 feet above the sea. This chain!
may be regarded as the geographical boundary between
Tibet and India. In some parts it is the water-parting;'
but at the several points where its continuity is broken
the water-parting recedes to an inner chain on the plateau,
and basins are formed between the two chains, the waters
of which descend in rivers to the plains of Ii^ia. The
plateau is a region of plains and wide open valleys of little
depth ; the scarp is a region of mountains and narrow
conflned valleys of great depth. The narrow valleys of
the scarp, being lower, are warmer and more favourably
adapted for cultivation than the broad valleys of the
plateau.
Higher than these last are the plains of the ChAng-tAng, Ching;
which are, for the most part, too high and cold for any '»"g
but pastoral uses. All such tracts the inhabitants call""''
ehdiuj-tdng, though the word strictly', signifies "the""*
Northern Plain " ; and all tracts which contain valleys
warm enough for cultivation they call rong (signifying a
ravine or narrow valley or cleft in a hill), but more par-
ticularly the lower and warmer valleys which produce
crops twice in the year ; the word is also commonly em-
ployed to indicate a warm country. The alluvial beds in
the valleys are composed of the debris of the surrounding
rocks, laid out in horizontal deposits, which in course of
time have become furrowed into gigantic ravines with a
succession of narrow terraces in steps on eacb.fiaafc. It is
on the existing lower alluvial beds and the reiiiriants of
higher beds that cultivation is carried on, in plots which
are usually well watered and very fertile. ~ The sharp
needle-peaks, which are highest of all and bare of soil, but
covered with perjictual snow, are met with most frequently
in tracts of rong, and the rounded hills coated with grass to
altitudes sometimes exceeding 16,000 feet in tracts of
chAng-tAng. The forest-clad mountain slopes which arc
occasionally met with occur chiefly in the rong. The
general direction of the hill and mountain chains is cast
and west, but north-west and south-east in western Tibet,
northeast and south-west in the province of U, an(l
north and south in eastern Tibet. The peaks rise in many
parts to between 20,000 and 25,000 feet— in the iMus-tagh
range to 28,250— above the sea-level, but rarely to more
than 10,000, and often to not more than a few hundred,
feet above the general level of the plaieaus from -nhich
they spring. The principal water partings in some dis-
tricts follow the crests of low ridges and gentle undulations
which are of barely appreciable elevation above the surface
of the ground.
NAri, the western province of Bcdland, is divided intoNiri"
the sub-provinces of Ladak and Balti on the west, between
75° and 79' E. long., now a part of Kasbmir ; ICliorsum
340
TIBET
["soGKAPHr:
between 79'. and 82°, conterminous with the Him Jayan
provinces of ' British India ; and Mang^yul or Dokthol,
between 82° and 87°, conterminous with western Nepal.
The last two are under the government of Lhisa. Western
Niri is bounded on the south by that portion of the
Himalayan chain of snow-peaks which stretches in almost
a direct line north-west from the Manasarowar Lake
region to the Nanga Parbat peak (26,620 feet), at first
facing the plains of the Punjab, thenfpassing north of
Kashmir. The provinces appertaining to Kashmir have
already been described in the article Ladak and Balti
(y.v.). The Karakoram chain, although its principal pass
is 18,500 feet above sea-level, nowhere rises very high
above the tableland. It constitutes a portion of the .
water-parting between India and Turkestan, separating the
Lingzi-tAng plateau, the highest in all^ Tibet, from the
.Jjroad and open valley of Chang -chenmo; it has been
traced eastwards to the meridian of 62°, but no farther.
Khor. Khorsum is mainly ching-tAng, but has %ome tipland
«um. ctiltivation round the capital, Rudok, and in the Gartang
valley, and lowland cultivation in the rong of the- great
plateau (120 miles long by 15 to 60 broad) of Guge or
Hundes, the upper basin of the Sutlej. In this province
lie, within the small area of a square degree, the sources
of four great rivers — the Indus, the Yaro-tsanpo, the
Sutlej, and the Kamali — the sacred lakes of Manasarowar
and Rakas Tal^., 15,300 feet above the sea and each
50 miles in c&wmference, and two famous mountains,
Nimo Namling (25,360 feet) to the south, believed by the
Tibetans to be their highest mountain, and to 'the north
the saciid Kailas Gangri (21,830 feet), the Kantysee of
the lamas' survey. From the Kailas Gangri a chain of
hills stretches to the north-west, separating the upper
basins of the Sutlej and the Indus ; to the north of that
another chain, running east and west, culminates in the
Aling Gangri peaks (24,000 feet) and separates the Indus
basin from the Pangong Lake (100 miles long, from 3 to
7 broad, and 14,000 feet in altitude), tear which Rudok
13 situated. Roads pass from Ladak to LhAsa through
the plains of Rawang and Sarthol, the gold-fields of Thok
Jalung and Thok Daurakpa, and the Hor country.
Mans- Mang-yul, or Dokthol, contains the upper basins of the
yiil or ,Yaro-tsanpo — here known as the Niri-chu — and its prin-
'^''"'°' cipal affluents, the Cha-chu and the Charta-tsanpo. The
province is whollv Ch.Ang-tAng and its population nomadic,^
the capital, Sarka Jong, being merely a good-sized village.
U-ts;.g.- The common border of the provinces of N4ri and TsAng
falls nearly on the 87th meridian. Here the Ching-tAng
recedes from the Himalayas, and its southern scarp, trend-
ing north-east, forms the upper fringe of tracts appertain-
ing to U-ts4ng that are capable of producing a single crop
annually. This region constitutes the most important
The portion of the basin of the Yaro-tsanpo, for it contains
■^■"'o- the chief tOMns and monasteries of the settled Bod-pas.
.isanpo. Cultivation commences on a slight scale where the river
enters TsAng on the west. The first town of any import-
mce is Junglache (13,600 feet), on the right bank, with a
large monastery. Thence goods may be taken down the
river for some distance by boats of leather over a wooden
framework, light enough to be carried back overland.
Eigbty-five miles lower do'wn, also on the right bank, are
the city of Shigatze or Digarchi (12,000 feet) and the
great monastery of Tashilunpo (TeshuLumbo), the resi-
dence of the " tashi lama," one of two spiritual incarnations
of equal rank; of which the other, the " dalai lama," resides
pt Lhisa ; the monastery contains 3500 lamas. Between
Jun;4lache and Shigatze the river receives the Raka-tsanpo
from the ching-tAng on its left,, and the SAkya-Jong<hu
from that on its right.' The latter descends from the
H>mal9>yan water-parting past ^e monastery of SAkja
(13,900 feet), which is surrounded by ctiltivation and
governed by a chief lama called the "sdkya-gAngma '
who is held in considerable reverence as an avatar. At
Shigatae the Yaro-tsanpo receives the Pena-Nyang-chu
from a valley to the south-east which contains the towns
of Pena-jong and Gyangtse-jong (13,000 feet), and numer-
ous monasteries , and villages, and through which passes
the main road from Bhutan to Shigatze travelled by Bogle
in 1774. A little lower down it receives from the left
the Shiang-chu, which rises in the Ninchen-thangla range
and flows past the town of Namling (12,200 feet, 200
houses), where sheep are employed as baggage aaimals,
the country being too cold for donkeys and the roads too
.stony for y^ks. Then at Shangpa (Jagsa) it receives from
the right the Rong-chu from the famous Yamdok-tso oi
Scorpion Lake to the south-east. This lake is 120 milet
in circumference, 13,800 feet above the sea, and isrsur-
rounded by villages and monasteries ; its scorpion claws
embrace a peninsula which rises above 16,000 feet, is grass-
grown to its summit, and embosoms the Damo-tso, a sacred
lake, 24 miles round and 500 feet above the main lake,'
which is expected some day to rise and destroy all animal
life by a flood. Here the roads from India via Bhutan
and from Shigatze to LhAsa converge, and after crossing
the-: Khamba-14 (15,000 feet) strike the Yaro-tsanpo ai
Chiak-jam-chori ( = " the iron bridge at the rocky bank ").
The river in its course from Shangpa down to this point
is unnavigable, passing over rapids between precipitous
hills ; there is no road on either bank. A little below the
bridge it receives from the left the Ki-chu, the river ol
LhAsa (?.f.), the chief city of Bodland. Below the jiinc
tion of the Ki-chu the Yaro-tsanpo continues its eastwarc
course through a broad and well -peopled valley. It is
crossed at Chetang by a ferry on the road from LhAsa to
Tawang in Bhutan via the Yarlung-chu vaUey (right bank),
which is said to be the pleasantest and most populous iii
Tibst ; fruits grow in profusion at its lower extremity and
the hills are forest-clad. At Chetang the river is 350
yards broad, 20 feet deep, and 11,000 feet above the seji;
and has a sluggish current. On crossing the meridian of
92° 30' E. it passes out of the province of U into that of
KhAm and enters its eastern basin. After traversing the EM«t-n
Kongbo (Khombo) district, it tre'nds north-east for 100^?«i^<*
miles — in general parallel ■with the contiguous Kongbo ]^^^.
ranges and the distant Ninchen-thangla — and on reaching ' '
94° ttims abruptly to the south. Its course has been ex-
plored 20 mUes below the bend, to Cfya-la-Sindong (800C
feet), but no farther. The basin is boimded on the north
and east by the continuous plateaus of Lharugo, Arig,
PemDa and Lhojong, Pashu, Dainsi, and Nagong, and on
the south by the inner Himalayan water-parting Numer-
ous tributaries join the river from both sides, but little ir
known of them. Those from Kongbo, Lharugo, and Arig
are said to unite and join it a little above Gya-la-Silidong,
and one from Nagong a little below. This last rises near
the Ata-Gang-IA, a pass over the Himalayas between the
Nagong plateau and the Zayul district, and is said to be
on the direct road from LhAsa to Zayul I'ia Gya-la-Sin-
dong ; it is probably joined by the Kenpu river of the
lamas' survey, which rises in the southern scarp of the
Pemba-Lhojong plateau and pro'bably flows through the
Potod and Pomed districts of KhAm. The independent
Lhoyul country lies to the south of the Nagong-chu (lit.
"black water"). The region is generally of a- compara-
tively low elevation, is'-^aid to have much more of rong
than of chAng-tAng, and probably contains much more
forest and"llixuriant vegetation than any other part ol
Tibet north of the Himalayas. Lower
The lower course of the 'Varo-tsanpo has long teen a matter of Varo-
controversy between Engliih and French geographers: the former l>aiifo.
.-.j-o-.R.\rnv.]
TIBET
341
hai» niamtained^iii accor-l.uice with infornntiou' from natives of
Tibet and Assam, that it enters the Assam valley and is the princi-
pal scun.il of the Bralimaputi-a river, of which tlie Lohit Brahma-
putra river is the cnjitcni source ; the latter have maintained, on
:lie sothority of Chines* j:«o^i-a pliers, that it flows into Uunna and
, IS tln>|jrincipal s»mri'e of the Imwadi river, but now its eastern
tusMi has Iveii expljretl, and the Lohit Unhmaputra has been
fi<nii.l to have its sources in a rsn,::e iKn-deriu;; the l!iania-Nu-chu ;
Ihe Yaro-tsiniH* ninst thwefore necess^irily pa^s into Ass;ini, and
nieasursJuents of the dis^liarces oi the principal rivers entering
Assam from the north conclusively identify it with the Dihong.
That river,- which rweives the Lohit BrahniapuUti a little below
Satliva (450 feet above the. sea), has lieen explored upwards into
the Hiniabyas to a point within 100 miles of Gyala-Sindong ; but
IS yet nothing is known of the connecting channel, except that it
jnnst have a U[\ of at>out 7000 f«t, or as much as the entir4fall of
the Yaro-tsmjio in its Tipjier coui-sc of 900 miles. ^" '
Si -uii; The Tibetan basins to tlie south of the Yarotsanpo' which
TibetK' flre ihchnled between the Himalayan chains of water-parting
"" and of high snow-peaks are the Bheri, the Kali Gandak,
and the Buria Gandak, subject to Nepal ; then the follow-
ing, which are subject to Li.'isa : — (1) the Tirsuli Gandak,
on the direct road from Kathmandu to Dokthol via Kirong
(0700 feet); (2) the Bhotia Kosi, through which the road
from Kathmandu to Shigatze passes via Nilam'Jong or
Knti (13,900 feet) into (3) the Arun-Barun basin, 120
miles by 30, which embraces the Dingri Maidan and Shikar
Jong plateaus and the great Chomto Dong Lake (li,700
feet) ; this same road, after passing Sikkim and western
Bhutan, .where the chain of high snow- peaks, including
Kanchinjinga (27,815 feet), :s the water-parting, traverses
^4) the Lhobra, (5) the Cha-j-ul," and (6) the Mon-yul
basins, which are also crossed by fhe road between Chetang
and Tawang. ■ East of the 93d meridian the height of the
jpeaks of the outer Himalayan chain falls to about 15,000
teet; the inner line of water-parting recedes northwards,'
and with it the boundary of Lhisa rxile. The included
basins are occupied by independent semi-savage tribes, — .
Miris, Abors, Mishmis, Ac. ; but about the 97ih ' meridian
Lhasa rule again asserts itself. ^ The mountains again rise
'a a great height in the Kechin-Gangra range, the eastern-
most Himalaya, which terminates about the 9Sth meridian
in spurs thrown off to the north and south, parting the
waters of the Lohit Brahmaputra and the Giama-Nu-chu.
The southern spur bends westwards in horse-shoe fashion
round the Zayul basin, and then merges into the range
which separates upper Assam and eastern Bengal froni
Burma. Lhasa rule extends over Zayul, and. for a short
iistance down the valley of the Giama-Xu-chu, embracing
5ome tracts which lie outside the geographical limits of
Tibet, as lower Zayul, where the elevation faUs below 4000
feet and the climate is so warm that- criminals are sent
there from Lhisa as a punishment.
Yue \ The Giama-N a-chu is called by the Chinese the La-kiang or Lu-
Giama-^ tse-kiang. Its course is known down to about 27° 30' N. laL, a few
>'i:-cha marches below Bonga^ on the left bank, where the Abbe Desgodins
cstablishctl a mission station temporarily ; but nothing certain is
known of its lower course. It is generally believed to be identical
with the Salwiu- river, which the Chinese also call the Lu-kiang ;
but the similarity of namo is not conclusive of identity, for the
Lq country covers a largo area, and its name may be given to a
second river rising among the Ly-.'iU and Lutse tribes to the south.
Nothing certain is known of the Sahrin above 25° N. lat. ; where it
is crossed on the road from Talifu to Bamo, it is almost certainly
jof too small a volume to have its sources farther off than, say, 250
miles in the southern Tihct«i scarp, and not far away in the heart
of Tibet There is a considcrab.j probability that the Giama-Nu-
chu is the source of the Irawadi, and thus that Chinese geographers
have been right in assigning a Tibetan origin to that river, though
wrong in identifying it with the Yaro-tsanpo.
Easum The Dayul plateau, with the lofty moiintains't)! Kokarpo
a>Utea«. .^ ^^^^ ^^^jjj ^^^^ p^^^ (11,450 feet) and Dokela to the
south near Bonga, lies between the' Giama Nu-chu and the
Chiamdo or Lan-tsan-kiang ; the latter river is believed
to become the Mekong of Cambodia. The Ou-kio river of
ihe Abte Desgodins rises in an important valley between
the Giama-Nu and Chiamdo rivers and^flowmg past Uayul,
joins the former above<JBonga. Next comes 'the^Makham
plateau, between the Chiamdoand the Di-chu,'of whicTi
the chief town (11,900 feet) is called Gartok by Tibetans
and Kiangka by Cliinese. East of the Di-chu or Kin-sha-
kiang lie the plateaus of Batang,. Litang, and Darchendo,'
which, though geographically and ethnologically Tibetan,
arc directly under, China. The last two are separated by
the Ja-chu, which is known as the Yalung.in its southerly
course to ioin the Kin-sha; the united streams flow east-
awards through China as the Yang-tse-kiang or Blue river.'
The western Hor country lies to the north, on the direct ■West«r^^
route between Ladak and Lhdsa ; it is a region of extensive ^^'
grassy plains and uumerous lakes, some of great size, and *<"'°'''yi
occasional hill ranges, which, thjugh often snow-covered.
are of no great elevation above the tableland. ^It is in-
habited by nomads — -XJhdng-pas of local origin and Khim-
pas from the east — and occasional communities of gold-
diggers and of traders in salt and borax, which are plenti-
fully found on the margins of the lakes. Thok Daurakpa
(15,300 feet), the centre of a large gold-field, is the chief
settlement.'L.,Within a remarkable basin, surrounded by
high hills and enclosing the great Dangra-Yum Lake and a'
cluster of small but well-built villages, Ombo, aro lands'
which produce a profusion of barley at an altitude of
15,200 feet, — a unique instance of cultivation at so great
a height, no other cultivation' occurring within 300 miles
on either side. . The Tengri-nnr or Nam-cho, 150 miles in
circumference and 15,350 feei above the sea,lies to the
north-west of Lhdsa ; and beyond it there is said to be a
still larger lake, the Chargut-cho, and numerous smaller
lakes, to one or more of which the' sources of the Giama-
Nt^-chu may perhaps be traced, though as a rule the lakes
in this region have no outlet. The Ninchen-thangla rang,o'
lies between the Tengri-nur and Lh.'isa ; it is considered by!
some wTiters to rival the Himalayas, but is' probably not
more than 300 miles long nor any^vhere higher than 24,000
feet above the sea.
The Ch.-lng-ting attaIns'its7greatest'width"'(over'500T:i9
miles) on the meridian of 85°; north of Lh.-lsa it contracts '"■'■'''*
to 400 miles, and is probably narrowest (140 miles) on the-'*'^
meridian of 97°.' It is covered to a very considerable ex-
tent, probably everTwhere below 16,000 feet, with a succu-
lent grass, which forms from May to August the softi;st of
green carpets and furnishes an abundance of green pai-tiirc.
Willow and tamarisk are occasfonally met with on the
margins 'of the lakes; but as a rule there is little wood
or scrub of any kind, and cultivation only in very excep-
tional localities, such as Ombo. Mj-riads of wild animals
— chiefly the yak and the antelope, but also the ass and
ihe camel — roam over the entire region, but mostly con-
gregate in the uninhabited northern portion ; their argols
furnish a plentiful supply of fuel, without which it would
be impossible for travellers to- cross the country, as there
are stretches of hundreds of miles in which no other fuel
is procurable. As the ChAng-tAng narrows to the east,
its surface becomes corrugated with chains of low hiUs;
Here too there is more marsh, land, than on the west:
the Odontala plateai> at the sources of the Hoang-ho river
is described by Prejevalsky as one vast bog in summer,
during the prevalence of the south-west monsoon frcim the
Indian Ocean. The openings between the meridion-'J hill
ranges to the south permit the rain clouds to pass up to
much higher latitudes before discharging their moisture
than on the west, where they are faced by the great longi-
tudinal ranges of the Himalayas.
The Kuen-Lun has been identified, geologi'Ally,' ty The
Stoliczka, as far west as the Victoria Like on the great Knen-
Pamir, in 74' E. long. ; it has been surveyed between 77'
and 82°, where it rises. to more than 22,000 fee{,iand
Lun
ranga,.
342
TIBET
JEGvJBAPHY.
towers above the plains of eastern Turkestan. To the east
it is known for some distance as the Toguz-Davan (Eleven
Passes) range ; Prejevalsky observed a prominent peak
(Jingri, 20,000 feet) on the 90th meridian, east of wliich
successive portions are known as the Angirtakshia, Shuga,
Namohon, ' urkhan Budha, and Dzun-mo-Lun ranges. The
rivers flowing north through openings in the Kuen-Lun are
generally small, with the exception of the Hoang-ho. East
of the 85th meridian the Kuen-Lun constitutes the chord
of an arc formed by the Altin Tagh, Nan-shan, and Koko-
Qur ranges, which project northwards and border the plains
of the Lob-nur region and the Chinese province of Kan-
suh ; several hill ranges and some great plateaus — notably
those of Chaidam or Tsaidam — are comprised between the
arc and the chord, and the regjon generally is closely allied
to Tibet in its physical aspects. Occasional peaks rise to
considerable altitudes and are covered with perpetual snow ;
the plateaus form a succession of steps ascending from the
filains of Gobi to the Tibetan plateau.
Cooiffler- Darchiendo, called Ta-chien-lu by the Chinese, on the extreme
cia) raaA eastern boundary of Tibet, is the principal emporium of the trade
from between that country and China. Thence two important roads
v.tstto lead to Lhasa, one called the Jung-lam or "official road" (935
east. miles long), the other the Chdng-Iam or "northern road" (890
miles). The former, which is the more direct, is the post road and
that by which officials travel between Lhasa and Peking ; but it
crosses much rugged and difficult country. The other is preferred
by traders, as being less difficult and less harassed by officials, and
mostly passing over plains with an abundance of pasture for their
baggage animals. The former has long been known from the pub-
iiSed travels of Hue and Gabet and the embassies from Nepal to
Chins, and its eastern section, from Batang to Darchiendo, has been
traversed by several Europeans of late years. The latter lies in
regions in eastern Tibet into which no European has yet penetrated,
but which were recently crossed by Pandit Krishna from north to
south ; they belong to the province of Eham, which appears to be
split op inttf » number of districts, each governed by its own gyalpo
or chieftain, who in some instances is subject to Lhasa, in others
to China, but not unfrequently is independent of both. Darchiendo
itself lies in the Minia (Miniak) district, from which the Chang-
lam passes through a succession of petty districts, Tan, DangOj Dau,
and Rongbacha or Horko, skirting Niarong (Gyarung?). ■ The
inhabitants of-this last are said to have conquered the neighbouring
districts and to have even braved the Chinese, but at last to have
been won over to Lhdsa by bribery .• Rongbacha lies in the valley
of the Ja-chu and contains the large fWn and monastery of Kanzego
(2500 houses, 2000 lamas ; 10,200 feet above the sea). Beyond it
lies, in the vaUey of the Di-chu, the district of Dar-ge (De-gue),
said to be one of the' richest and most populous in all Tibet, con-
taining towns in which theJ)est jewellery, saddlery, guns, and
sWOTds are manufactiu-ed. The Ching-ldm passes through Dar-ge
np to Kegndo (11,800 feet), where it meets roads over the Chang-
ting from Chaidam on the north and the Koko-nur district in the
north-east. Very little is known of the country between the Chang-
lim and the frontiers of China ; it is called Sifan or " the country
TOf the western barbarians" by the Chinese ; to the north are the
districts of Chiamogolok and Banakhasum, inhabited by marauding
tribes, ami bwer down are the Amdo and Thochu districts, on the
borders of tracts occupied by the Manchu tribes of Sze-chuen
(China). , From Kegiido the Chang-lam trends westwards over the
eastern Hor country, all ching-tang, for 300 miles. The route has
not yet been explored, but probably passes through the pasture-
lands of the Sok-pas ; on reaching Lake Chomora it turns south-
wards, then passes the monastery of Shiabdcn (14,930 feet), a
notable resting-place for caravans, crosses the lower scarp of the
Ching-ting by the Lani pass (15,750 feet), and finally descends
into the Lhisa plateau.
OfEcial The Jung lam or official road from Darchiendo passes through
road Litang (13,400 feet; 2500 houses) and Batang (8150 feet; 2000
from east houses) .to Gartok or Kiangka, crossing cti rout; the Yalung and
to west Kin-sha rivers ; thence it proceeds up the valley of the Chiamdo-
chu or Lan ■ tsan - kiang, and has been traversed by the Abbe
Desgodins via Dayag (his Tchraya) to Chiamdo (his Tchamouto).
He says, "To get an idea of the configuration of the ground let
any one take a sheet of parchment, crumple it in his hands into
many creases, and then spread it out on a table, and he will obtain
a map in relief, furrowed with depressions and steep slopes and
presenting very little flat surface." Chiamdo is the chief town of
the province of Kham, and, being considered a point of great
strategic importarice, is strongly garrisoned ; it has a large monas-
tery, containing 3000 lamas. It is situated at the junction of two
rivers, which are frozen in winter ; but in summer the valleys are
highly cultivated. Thence the Jnng-Iam proceeds south-west to
the bridge of Shang-ye-Jam ( Kia-yu-kiao) over the Giima-Nu-chu
— here called the Sok river — and then ascends to Lhojong (13,140
feet) — the Lourondson of the lamas' survey — where it is joined by
the road from Gartok via Zayul and Nagong. It then trends
westwards over the plateaus already mentioned as bordering the
eastern basin of the Yaro-tsanpo, passes occasional small villages,
monasteries, and lakes, crosses two lofty passes — the Nub-Gang-li
(17,940 feet) and the Tola-IA (17,350 feet) — descends to the little
town of Giamda (10,900 feet) in Kongbo, and, passing out of Kham
into U, enters the Lhasa plateau. From the capital it is continued
over a distance of about 900 miles to the western limits of Khorsmn,
crossing the Yaro-tsanpo at the Chiak-jam-chori bridge and recross-
ing at Junglache, midway passing through Shigatze ; it then tra-
verses a great breadth of chang-tang and crosses the meridional
water-parting at the Muriam-la (15,500 feet). There are twenty-
five staging places called tarjwms^ from 20 to 70 miles apart, be-
tween Lhasa and Rudok, with accommodation — sometimes houses^
but more generally tents — for about 200 men ; they are under th©
charge of a jalno, who is bound to provide yaks and other beasts,
of burden and horses for carrying the mails, impressing them from
the nomads encamped near the taijums. The road is generally well
defined ; loose stones are cleared away in the narrow defiles, and
piles of stones, surmounted by flags on sticks, are erected at placea
on the open stretches of tableland where the track is liable to bo
lost.
The climate of Tibet differs greatly in different parts and at dimaia.
different seasons of the year. In western Tibet the frost is perma-
nent from October to April, and the lakes and rivers down to 8000
feet are frozen every winter ; at 15,000 feet the thermometer falls
below the freezing-point every night ; and at 20,000 feet there ia
probably perpetual frost in the shade. The mean monthly tempera-
•tures and ranges of temperature, embracing from six to ten years'
observations at the meteorological observatory at Leh (in 34" 10*
N lat., height 11,540 feet), are as follows in degrees Fahrenheit: —
d
4
i
a
s
CO
a
i
a
S
&
a
d
S
a
3
S.
s
s
&
s
a
&
a
S
S.
Jan. .
-lR*-0
2R--.'>
April 1 12*-0
si*-o
July
eri
3r-2
Oct.
iV-}
sor-i
Feb. ..
21 •■0
30" -0
May
4S*-6
SO'I
Aug.
69'-6
SI* -3
Nov.
sr-2
26" -7
M»rch
32" -0
28--0
Jnno
!Ki--4
sru
Sept.
52" -8
Sf-4
Dec
«•»
ii-l
At Lhasa (in 29" 39' N. lat, height 11,800 feet) the mean tem-
peratures observed by the pandits were 36° in February and March
and 61* in June and July. Southern Tibet is described Ob being
delightful in summer, — the land covered with vegetation, streams
flowing in every valley, and all nature bright, sparkling, and fresh.
But in winter snow and frost reign supreme ; all vegetation is dried
up ; the lakes and rivers are frozen ; the roads and footpaths are
paved with ice ; and cold cutting winds sweep across the surface
of the land. In northern Tibet Prejevalsky found "a terrible
climate" in summer at 14,000 feet: in the second half of May
wiutry snowstorms were not unfrequent and the frost by night
reached -9* Fahr. ; and in June and July there were frosts (23°
Pahr.) every clear night In the winter the cold is intense ; Hue
and Gabet, crossing the Di-chu river in 1846, found a great herd
of yaks entombed in ice, the river having frozen whilst they were
swimming across. (J T W. )
Ikddstky, Trade, A^^) Government
The industrial arts are at a somewhat low ebb, though in metal- Industry
founding the natives display a ceitain amount of ability and taste.
Their stotues and small bells are, however, only copies of Indian
models. They use the iron from their mines, which is verv good,
for making excellent blades for sabres and other weapons. Thoy
are very fond of precious stones, but do not know how/to work
them. Their chief industries are connected with wool, the great
and inexhaustible staple of the country. Weaving is generally
the work' of women. The cloth usually employed for summer
garments is the luxi-vxt, which is dyed with madder or indigo, and
sold in pieces eight or t^n inches in width and about twelve yards
in length. Another sort of cloth largely sold is the cJiro or p'rug^
of a better quality of wool, finer and toicker, which is often manu-
factured in DbUs (U), whence it is sometimes called DbUs p'rug ;
it is generally dyed dark red. Tenrui is a superior kind of thin
woollen cloth, a flannel-like fabric, dyed dark red, of which there
are two sorts, — le-t'er, made of shawl wool, and balt'er, of common
wooL Sag-lad is for fine cloth made of fine shawl wool (Ic-na) ;
and S7iam-bu is a woollen cloth, very coarse and loosely woven, the
common sort of which is not dyed.
Every Tibetan is more or less a trader. Officers for the super- Trad*
intendence of trade, called garpons, are appoin^^d by the king, the
ministers, and the great lamaseraia. The import and export traffic
is carried on by caravans, which, according to the route and its
diUicultv, employ yaks or sheep. The two great markets are
CTHiJOLOeY. I
TIBET
Shigatze lor Uigarchi) and Lhasa, wbere the caravans arrive in
December and- January from China and Mongolia, Kham and
Sze-chnen, Bhutan, Sikkim, and Nepal, Kashmir and Ladat Of
the four principal trade routes the two which start from Darchiendo
have been mentioned above (p. 342). The third route, 915 miles
D length, starting from Si-ning in Kan-su (China), runs along
iie Koko-nur to Jun, thence to Di-chu'Rab-dun, crosses the homa
■I lower Dangla, and proceeds ma Giaro and Lake Chomora
1- Lhasa , this route, which is forbidden to the Chinese, is less
requented than the others because of the numerous bands of
■obbers infesting the country towards Si-ning. Mi^ch more im-
.«rtant is the route which comes from the west, with Leh as its
tarting point ; it runs via Gartok, Lake Slanasarowar, Muriam
*ss, Tadom, and Shigatze to Lhasa. Like the other caravans, the
'early one which follows this route stops several times on the way
■ir local fairs ; the districts passed through are compelled to fur-
.ish it with 300 yaks for carrying goods and to provide food for
ie travellers The centres for Tibetan trade on the borders are—
or Mongolia and north China, Si-ning ; for Sze-chuen, Darchiendo ;
Old in Assam, Davangiri and Udalguri, where there is a great fair
twice a year in connexion with the Tawang route. Darjiling is the
oentral mart for the Chumbi valley trade,' Patna for that pa.'ising
through Nepal, and Leh and Kashmir in the west. From China
come silks of all varieties (Buddhist prejudice not permitting the
Tibetans to rear silk-worms and kill them), carpets, and hardware ;
from Mongolia leather, saddlery, sheep, and horses , from Kham
perfume , from Sze-chuen brfck tea (some six millions of pounds
annually , tea in leaf is not in use in Tibet) ; from Tawang, Bhutan,
and Sikkim nee and tobacco ; from Nepal broadcloth, silk, indigo!
•■oral, pearls, sugar, spices, and Indian manufactures ; from Ladak
»nd Kashmir saffron and Indian commodities. Silver and gold
*re the most important articles of export ; then follow salt, wool
woollen mamifacturet, furs, drugs, and musk. By the Nepal and
ladak routes Tibet exports large quantities of yaks' Uils, bora-t
^Id, silvei. and ponies In 1883-83 the total exports to India
amounted to £58,322 (Punjab £17,710, North-West Provinces and
Oudh £40.612). The imports into Tibet reached £24,197 (£1530
Irom Punjab, £22,667 from North -West Provinces and Oudh)
The pnncipal exports were borax (£17,222), salt (£13,978), wool
Mid woollen goods (£4936). The imports included grain (£13,587)
»tton goods (£2875), and sugar (£2395). In 188384 the export
■I borax had moreased by 12.329 maunds {about 453 tons), that of
wool and woollen goods by 2244 maunds (S2 tons), while the ex.
forts of salt had decreased by 572 maunds (21 tons). The whole
f the increase in borax is in the trade with Kumaun, and in weight
It 13 almost double the increase in the export of rice from that
dJstnct, for which it is bartered in Tibef- the usual rale of exchange
being two of borax to one of rice Tie total excess of the value of
exports over imports amounted to nearly two lakhs of rupees. In
ir^'?^„i'"' ''*'"® °^ *-^^ "°°' *°<* woollen stuffs exported rose
from £4300 to £8800 These figures, however, convey no adequate
Idea of the Bnfish trade with Tibet, as a large quantity of good»
passes through Nepal RussUn wooUen cloths, coarse anj loose
ol s^rlet, green, bine, and violet colour, as weU as hearthrugs
.hickly woven and of a flowered pattern, come through Yarkand
and are conveyed all over the country
^m™' ^"""u''^? '"'*' ^^ "^^ * dependency of China, and as such is
iieni nnder the Chinese viceroy of Sze-chuen. Chinese authority is re-
pr«cnled by two imperial delegates, one of whom is the assistant
of the other They direct exclusively the foreign and military ad-
ministration of the country, leaving the civil and religious govern-
ment in the hands of the Tibetans. They are appointed for terms
of three years. Subordinate to these are two daluM or great
officers and two paymasters, residing, one of each grade, at Lhasa
and at Bzhikartse (Shigatze or Digarchi). Next in rank are three
^ZTl 1- "^'^1°^ ^' ,^''^ Digarchi, and Dingri near the
«o„^ nm i.^'"" ,^^^ "" ""^^^ tirigpum,, Don-commis-
noned officers, who complete the staff of mUitary Chinese officers
in the country. The usual number of Chinese troops, all Manchu-
latars. in Tibet does not exceed 4500 men (2000 at Lhasa, 1000
at Digarchi. 1000 at Giangchi, 500 at Drngri). In matteiTof civil
government the^ supreme authority belongs to the dalai lama, the
rgyat-ba nn-po-O, residing in the famous temple-palace of Potala
■see Lhasa, vol. xiv p. 500). But he is consulted only in cases
of emergency, when his decision is never questioned. His powers
are transmitted to a special officer for life, nominated iy the
Omiese Government, who is knoivn by several titles, such as d:.«-i
or ■%i.^°''^ "^"loi^'i, "king of the law"; he is the rgyal.pa
Z.o^^\ as weU as the pnme minister of the ialai lama, and the
regent when he latter is a minor. He is selected from ..u,on'
the four head- lamas of the ChomoUng, Konduliug, Tangialiu. u,"d
Chajohng divmons near Lh4sa. so-cSlled from fheir chief tSinas
3fi
cooSie^cfm^A^'^'"'^ ^''- tie- pas3 being closed by the Tibetans in
-i«>ild pSL tSo^h'NepTl "^" '^'^- '" ""'" "^' ""= wtole trade
teries or dgonpa {vulg. gomba). Each of the lour must be, likt
the dalai lama, an avatar, i.e., when removed by death he must
reappear in the flesh as a chUd. and be raised to that position. Of
equal rank with the nomokhan is the deba lama of dGa-ldan. the
great monastery near Lhasa ; he, however, is not an avatanau,
lama : his appointment has to be confirmed by the Chinese em-
peror. Next to him is the lama guru or chaplain of the dalai
lama, the director of his conscience ; he may be an avatar but his
nomination is also in the hands of the Chinese emperor and thL'
furnishes an interesting clue to the extent of the imperial power
over the church of Tibet The nomokhan rules with the help ol
five ministers : four of these— laymen— are lor the financial judicial
revenue, and home departments, and a fifth, a lama, for ecclesiasi
tical affairs. The four provinces of Mngari-Khorsum, DbUs, gTsano
(Tsang), and Khams (Kham) are ruled each by a bka-blm ot
governor, with a proper staff of minor officers, under the authority
of the nomokhan. Besides these there are several minor kings or
rg)-al-pos outside of the four provinces ; but within these provirces
there are four principalities which are under the direct government
" , ,1 S,-"""^ imperial delegates. These are (I ) Dayag or Chraya
and (2) KiamJo or Chiamdo, both on the east ; (3) bKra-sis-lhun-pa
or Tashilunpo, where resides the pan-ten rin-po-ie lama, who yields-
to none but the dalai lama in religious importance, and, though an
avatar, requires also the confirmation of the Chinese emperor to his
election ; (4) Sakya-Kongma, south-west of the preceding. There is
also a Chinese officer (y-tan) in residence at Lhasa who supenn-
tends several minor principalities scattered over the country Every
five years Lhasa, Chiamdo, and Tashilunpo send envoys' with
presents to the emperor. In the east of the countryis the princi-
pality of Darge or Degue, in the up^r course of the Yalung-kian"
rulea by a king who recognizes the suzerainty of China, and at the
same time since 1-863 has managed to keep on good terms with
the kmg of Lhasa, to whom he has promised submission. On the
lower course of the same river are the Chentui or Gyarung tribes
who from the conquest of Tibet were subject to China, but sinca
1864 have been transferred by the Chinese Government to the rule
of the king of Lhasa, who is now represented among them by a
Tibetan resident South of the Chentui is the principality of
Dar-rtse-mdo or Darchiendo, the Ta-chien-lu (Tatsienlu) of the
Cliinese, the rGyala of the Tibetans, where the government, under
the supervision of Chinese officersris entrusted to a native king
called Ming.chang.se by the Chinese and rGyak rgyal-bo or king
of rGyala by the Tibetans. ' oj &
Ethnology
The Tibetans, in a legend of the Tandjur, pretend to be the de- Inhabit,
scendants of an ape, sent to the sncwy kingdom {i.e. 'Hbet) by anla.
Chenresig (Spyan-ras.gzigs = Avalokiteshvara), and of a Tibetan
snnmo (a female demon or rakshasi). They had six children, whom,
as soon as they were weaned, they abandoned in a forest of fruit
trees. Coming back after a few years, the father found to his great
surprise that their number had increased to 500. But, as they were
starving, he had recourse to his patron Chenresig, who declared that
he would be the guardian of the race. So he went to Mount Tiso
(or Kaila the Su-Meru), and threw down a great quantity of the five
kinds of grain, with which the famished apes long fed themselves.
As the consequence of eating this grain the monkeys' tails and the
hair on their bodies grew shorter and shorter, until they finally dis-
appeared. The monkeys began to speak and became men, and
clothed themselves with leaves. The interest of this legend, when
stripped of its Buddhistic adornments, lies in the fact that belief in
a monkey ancestor seems to have been common to various branches
of the race. The Tang-chang and Peh-lang tribes boasted also ot
being descended from a monkey ; they were the two great divisions
of the Tang-hiang or Tangut, offsets of the same Sien-pi stock as
that of the conquerors of Tibet under Fanni Tubat (see note, p. 838
above). The inhabitants of Tibet belong to the Mongoloid races.
Besiies the Tibetans so called, occupying the greater part of the
country, especially in the south from west to east, there are Turkic
tribes called Hor in the north-west, Mongol tribes called Sog (Sok) ia
the north-east, and several ill-defined tribes on the borders of China,
who differ from the others. The Tibetan race is not thoroughly
homogeneous, as may be seen from the various accounts of travellers.
On the west they are described as being short, with an average
stature of 5 feet 2 inches, according to the measurements of General
Alexander Cunningham ; in central Tibet and the east they are of
middle stature, rather tall than short,— a difference resulting ap-
parently from their intermingling with the surrounding races. As
genera! characteristics, they are strong, slender in limb, with black
eyes slightly oblique, large mouth, brown hair, no beard, a clear
ruddy brownish complexion with an intelligent expression. They
are. a people of good natural gifts, mild in temper, true to their
word, kind and siu ,.le. fond of music, dancing, and singing, but
;horoughly imbued with superetition and lacking enterprise. Ex-
ception is made of the people of the eastern bordere. who ara
described as being cheats and cowards.. The most highly gifted
are the inhabitants of Amdo, the region beyond Kham, having
344
.TIBET
[ethnologyJ
Knko-nur OQthf? nortb an^China on the'cast. Tailor than the
Tibetans of the west, thoy ara famed for their quick intelligence
and open disposition ; a large proportion of the readers and chief
tamas of the great schools -and the higher officials belong to this
race. The nomad tribes of the north-east are known by the Chinese
common appellative of Sifan ("western aliens"). They include
Mongol, Tibetan, and other tribes. In the east, near the borders of
Ciiina, are the numerous tribes called Gyarung or Chentui ; their
(language has been studied by Hodgson, wlio has pointed out its
remarkable similarity of structure to that of the Tagals in the
Philippines. To the soutli of thcs^-are the Laka or Lolo (mainly
in Sze-chuen), Liso, and Moso j the last-named have advanced to
?o:;i'- e.xt''nt into Indo China. The Laka or Lolo arc remarkable
for their European white features, j. Their language, along with that
of tlic Liso and Moso, &c. , forms a group cognate to the Burmese.'
Not so far east are the Lutzo or Kunung, Mclani; Anu, Pagny or,
Djion, Telu/ and Remepu, all speaking a dialect of Tibetan, mixed
%vith. foreign words, for which the namo of iM el am is apftropriate.
Savages are found, says the pandit explorer A — K, in some of the
valleys of the range north of Saithang (i.e., the Altin-tagh north-
of the Syi'tcn plain). They have a thick and dark skin, arc well
liuilt and apparently well fed. They arc clad iri,6kins, and live in
caves and dens or under the shcltec of overhanging rocks. Being
ignorant of tho use of arms in the chase, thoy Ho in wait for,
their prey near springs of water or salt flats. " They are remarkable
for their fieetness of-loot ; even a horseman finds difliculty in pver-,
taking them. Whentver they seo a civilized man they run off in'
great alarm. They are .said to know how to kindle a Ore by means
of a flint; and they flay the animals they kill with sharp-edged
stones. This is not the only survival of the Stone Age, for in tho
case of some religious rites the lamas are shaved with a "lightning
stone," The country is thinly peopled and laigc tracts in the
tipper plateaus and Mngari-Khorsum are quite uninhabited. In
the province of Kham the population is very irregularly distributed,*
and tho nomad character of the tribes occupying a great part of thc^
■nipper country makes any estimate doubtful. The central provinces
of DbUs and gTsang arc the most densely peoplcil, and A — K puts
tBe population of Lhasa at 25,197 (7540 being lanins). '; The totals
lately given by Chinese authorities (4,000,000) and by the Uussiau
5taff-othcers (6,000,000) are probably nearer the truth tlian the'
11,000,000 and 33.000,000 of former autlloritics.^ Tlii/ Tibetans'
arc a very social people, and all possible circumstances, especially!
marriages and birtns, arc made occasions for feasting and enjoyment. '
The burial customs arc peculiar. . First the hair is plucked out from
the top of the head, iu order to faciliLatc transmigration. Tho
:orpse is not disposed of everywhere or always in the same way
[lack of fuel sometimes preventing cremat ion), and the lamas decide ■
whether it is to bo piit away by interment, by throwing into the
river, by burning, or by exposure to beasts and binls of prey. The
3ast-naraed mode (regarded as very honourable) has almost dis-
appeared in the west, but is still practised iii the central and eastern
<nrovinccs ; the body is cut iu pieces and the bones broken into frag-
ffncnts by professional corpse butclicrs, and, when all tho flesh has
been devoured at the selected spot, called dur krod, to which the
hody had been previously carried, it is not unusual to throw the
remaining fragments of the broken bones into tho river ; sometimes
the phalanges of the fingers are preserved to be used in bead-rolls.
The lamas are generally inhumed in a sitting posture, the knees
being brought up to tho chin and corded together as tightly as
{Kjssiblc. In the case of the gyalpos or kahlons the body is burned
in a metal vessel, tho ashes bi-iug afterwards carefully collected to
ho ^nade into an imago of the deceased. Polyandry hag been
practised from the earliest times, and has been canied by the spread
ftf tho race into more genial countries, such as Bhutan. The joint
husbands arc usually, but not always, brothers. Tho arrangement
seems to work smoothly, and women enjoy general consideration,
•ccording to all- travellers who l^ave spoken of the subject. The
redding ceremony takes place a't the house of the bride's parents,
4fter adequate presents have been oHcrcd by tho older brother,
husband or bridegroom, and without tho assistance of any priest.
It consists chiefly in the engagement of the intending spou^ and
the placing of a piece of butter by the bride's i)arent on tne head of
the bridegroom and by his parent on that of- the bride. Unless
otherwise stated by the mother in each case, the elder husband is
*hc putative father of the cliihlren, and the othV^hs are uncles.
4*olyandry has resulted in the assignment to the wife of a paramount
^sition, which in the north-east and east of the country has grown
im».ng certain tribes into a real sovereignty, of which we'hear from;
■the beginnings of Chinese history, and which has left certnin sur-'
■TiA-als among tlie Loin und Moso tribes of the present day as well
as in tho lalo Burmese court.
ReHeioni There arc two religions in Tibet — Buddhism, in the shape of
Lama ISM {q.v.), and an. earlier creed, generally called the Bon
religion, of which not much is known. The latter, a creed evolved
from Shara'Hniam.'does not seem, from what is FinkX in BuddhisU
books, to have received any regular form cither in doctrine or other-
wise until the introduction of Buddhism, which incited tho Bonpo
to seek in a better organization the means of holdm'g their^own;
They borrowed much from the BuddJiists, as the latter did from
them, — many deities supposed to be Buddliist because of their
Buddhist names being simply Bon gods. At the present day the
two religions exist peaceably side by side, and the Bon creed has
numerous adherents and rich convents in tho central" p'rovinces of
DbUs and gTsang, but few in the western and eastern provinces.
The Bonpo are sometimes called the "Sect of the Black," as distin- Bonpa.
guishedfrom the "Kcd" or Old and "Yellow" or Reformed Larnaists,
both appellations being derived from the colour of their. garments
though Bonpo have been seen in red .as well as in black. Tlity arc
also called Gruu-drun-pa(scc below). The establishment of the Bonpa
or Bon-fos, i.e., the lion religion, is attributed to Gien-tiibs, also
called Bstan-pa Gscn-rabs, i.e., Gsenrabs of tlio doctrine, the n.imo
under which he is worshipped in the temples of his sect, aj, for
instance, at Tsodani in cast Tibet, not far from Bonga ; his statue,
which occupies the central place, represents him as squatting, with
his right arm outside his red scarf, and holding in his left the vaso
of knowledge.^ In a Bon sutra he is said to 'hold in his right
hand tho iron hook of mercy, with which he fishes people out of the
ocean of transmigration, in his left hand tho seal of equality, and
to wear on his head the mitra jewel. His full namo is Bon gscn-
rabs-grun-drun.* J. Cscn-rabs-mi-po, or "(the) excellent human
god," another name of the same personage, has been identified by
some Tibetan authorities with Lao-tsze or Lao-kiun of China. This
identificatioii, however, rests only on the slender basi«of an apparent
affinity of sound between the sen ohgscn and a common Chinese
'appcUalivo for the Taoists. . The genuine resemblances botwcen
Bonpa and Taoism come from the fact that both religions have draxvii
from similar sources, from the native rude Shamanism which is much
the same in both countries, from the tantric and esoteric doctrines
of ludia. and from Buddhist ideas. The identity is suflicicnt toliave
deceived the uncritical mind of native scholars, and the matter ha?
not yet been carefully examined by Europeans. The eiglith book
of the Gruh-mthtth-sel'hji-me-ioh, in twelve books, by a Tibetan
lama, Chkoikyi Nyima (1674 -1740), which, with three others, has
been lately translated by Sarat Chandra Das (in Jour. As. Soe.
Bcng. for 1881-1882), gives some information on the rise of the
Bonpa in the region of Shang-shung, identified, not with the modern
region of the same name iu the north-west of_ Lhasa, but with
Gug(i or Ghughc and Knaor or Upper Besahr. ^, Three strides are .
pointed out in the development of the Bonpa'afler the time ol
its mythical founder, who reckoned among his sjliritual descendants
sages of Persia, Lcgtang-mnng (some names of Lao-kiun ') of China,
of TJiouio, of Miniak (east Tibet), of Sumpar, and of Shang-shung.
The first stage is that of the human and historical founder of the
religion, a sage of the name of Shong-hon» who livetl in the scnii-
historioal time of Thi-de-tsanpo, the sixth king of Tibet (the first U
said to have ruled about 415 ac). The second stage, dating fronj
the 3d century ac, is that at which Bon theories and doLtnnes
began to" exist, a beginning coincident with the arrival in tiic
country of three Bon priests from Kashmir, Dusha, and Shang-
shung. The recital down to this point gives evidence of the vagiie-
ncss of tho traditions preserved by the Tibetans with rcferenceto
their own beginnings, and shows th.at the author has striven hard
to put together shreds of ancient reminiscence within a-.ifaHulo\i8
and mythical account.' "With the third stage we come'^ftown
to historical times. It is divided into three periods,— tho first
dating from tho arrival of an Indian pandit hy way of Kashmir,
who wrote some of the Bou books ; the second being that of tho
introduction of Bu(Jdhism and the consequent persecution leading
the Bonpo to multiply their sacred books, vhich they concealed ;
and the last being that of tho reviv.il of the Bonpa and the bring-
ing forth of tho hidden books s\ibsequent to tiic oyertlirow and
temporary eflaccmcnt of Buil<lhism by gLang-dharnia (i)08-1013).
According to this source, which, however, is certainly tinged by
Buddhist prejudice, it was only at the last-mentioned date that ihe
Bonpa reached its complete organization.
Eighteeu principal gods and goildesses are enumerated, inHud*
ing'tho red wTathful razor spirit, the black wiathful razor s].int,
tho tiger god of glowing fire (the popular god universally wor-
shipped), the messenger demon Rgyal-po, otherwise Fe(d)kar
rgyal-po (much dreaded and worshipped in the central povinces r
he is said to be identical with the deity Kye-pang of Lhasa. fi:,'un'J
as a wooden stick or log decked with rags; see Jacschke. Dkl.^
p. 7), the god of sound, the great demon, and the senjont denioi-
Information is lacking as to tho 'specific characteristics of these
gods, and it is not clear to which of them belongs the title o(
kun-tu Izang-po, fireqiiently cited as tho chief Bon god ; he is re-
puted to have a wife Yom-ki-long-mo, the eternal female prinripk-,
and from their union have resulted all the minor cods and the
whole world.
1 Tho torm gyuh-drnh {svai^li), alsonri»bo.l In Ins followers, mean^ thL■c^.>^^
cr.imponni^e. the sxvstika, simil.ir to Ih.-itof llic nticMlusts, from which it tlllli'it
only in dirc.-iinn. tho Bonpo manner of circunumbulation rruml a shnnt
or deity bciug from right to Iclt, wtiilc the DudiiUist iiinancr n fiom lolt \c
right.
HISTORY J
TIBET
tiST" ?r^ !^ r^^'/^5 '^o^°o'= V ™'" translated by A. Schiefcer
t , c jj^"^"^ ^ ^''^ '"'■y "*"'* °»S^ ''>^ hundred thousand -) ;
but Buddhjst mfluenc* ij so manifest in it that no correct idea of
the pnmitiTe ^n reli^on can be derived from it In a native
J^^^ n^,', "^u '•' ^^'^ <*°'^ ^^ translated by Sarat
Oxandra Das, the following are enumerated-three works on nbilo-
^rJr.^, metaphysics four meditative works, nine ritual serials.
S^Jv ? .1 7-lf^. ^^ *"" "5'^"'= '■"l" °f a '»'« period, in all
°J J,^^ -^'.^ '^Iff *,■■*• t™^'^'«l sntra is not made'know^. It
1^^^ "J *'l' ,t^l^^on that these Bon scriptures originally
;^3f "i wholesale plagiarisms, subsequently Altered in ortho-
waphy and termmology from Buddhist canonical works. The
^^J^}"^A^'^ *° ^^^ sot the counterparts of the ^ah-gyur in
generaL As a coirelative of the sii -syllable prayer of the lamas
fci man. pad-me hum (vnlgarly "om-mani peme:on "), they have
we m eight sylUbles, which they pronouncTma-M-riu-^r/M-ia!
rTi.. o^??' *" °?'^ frequently confounded with the Red
lAniis or Bud^ist. of the Old school, who are distinguished ^m
the Yellow or Reformed sect by their garments.
345
HisroBT.
rf^?„^.f ^^ T?^ ^"^ *^« •^'^"'^ used to caU by the name
fa K^^ tnoes (about 150 in number) of nomads and shepherds
m Koko-nur and the north-east of present Tibet ; but their \now-
^nf^^^V""'* ^ ^ ,™°^^ ^ '^' >^^der trib^ until the s^xfh
century of our era. In the annals of the Tang dynasty it is <iid
i^Fal S'^a^d" "M*"^ '"r'^ originatedlroS^the'^^t.^n
of tl,. ^S ■ ' ^ t''l_"'formation collected in the first part
Tnt, A^'^ concenung Tu-bat, afterwards Tn-ban, the mXS
«t/^or^„ ?),P^.''' '""^"^ P~^'^ ^^ ^'*™^1 ="<i«^^' from a ti.^
^,^^ J ^^ ^"S dynasty (618 a.d.), some degree of reliance
^i^i^'^"^ "".r '"f^""'^'^ There we are tSld that Fannt
» scion of tie southern Liang dynasty of the Tu-bat family (which
t^"^ ^^ ^" \° "= at'Liang^hu in Kan-suirwhr h^
S^X^r^b- ° °°rt''«™ Liang dynasty, fled in 433 I'ith dl iS
people from his governorship of Lin-sung (in Kan-chu) westwards
Z2'-f:^4^"' '^J"' ?°if°°"'i«i befond Tsih-Su. (^Sy
stones ) a sfaite amidst the Eiang tribes, with a territory eS
enfbw't^ SSh" V- ^^ ^'^^ ^^ J-"' "^' heVJ^s'n
o?»ir,^ to establish his sway over an immense territory. His
SfSn^H ^ ^Pl^'-^itly situated along the upper Surse of
ir,tZf ^S l"i ^° ^"''" of "'^ Kin-sha-liang. ^e fore<^inK
S^^t^?■.^^'^"^""°'* P™'^"^ g^""^' tiswry, are preS
RnS^i^.,-^"''''^.''^ a mass of legends invented by the native
Buddhi^istoruns for the purpose of connecting the J monarch?
intl^t.1^d''w"rrS^ ^''^- ^"^""^ ^' K"'**^ E. von Schlag-
ld«« f.^- .? Chandra Das we possess five copies of lists of
n^^li, ° I'^'i?'^ ?°<"' "^ Tibet from the legendary bSin
S^vTm' *B„tl"^ century B.C. down to the^ oT^e
SxS^ri Z llll; «™ 'J'? ^"ons divergences which thev show
«it?enh> .^= <• ^^ ^""^ "■ 8e°«ral outlines) make their un-
m^.^ >, <=^"c*«'' Pl^ ^ the last published list is accom-
^fv t. )l* comm«Ui7, it is the easiest to foUow77nd rtS^
fro^th^ rK™PP''"'°''^ '^'^-^'^ therefrom the other iSu^
from the Chinese sources. The first king, Gnra-khri btsan^ is
^as tem ^It^^M*''' f 5 ^^ °' ^S pSsenidjit^ Wa^i'l
ll?as iSTTh. Si?°''^ ^^ l^^- H* fi<^<l °orth of tlie Him^
t^X. ? J %!^ country, where he was elected king by the
twelve chiefi of the tabes of southern and central Tibet H« took
YLlun..^htrj° '^'T^'^'^S country south of Lllai^ S^S
V,nJ^ ?;, w • ^^7'^ "s name from the Yalnng of the state of
Fanni Tu-ba^ ?.* '}''" '^'^ch flows into the Ya?o-tsanw The
first k^g and his six successors are known as the s^^eles^
tAn, tne next senes consists of six kings known as the^rtbT^
^ ; and they were foUowed by eight iSfesS^ This three^
Scient^W^S StPP^^r'^ an i;^ta«on .r a del^«l fo™ ^T.
«i2,^=^ -T o '^'"^"'^y' carttly, and human rulers which "wa^
^^"dTibirAf ?^ '""^ ^"'^ *^' latter ll-unt^^ilS
rtfT * Tibet,— the relative number of kings bein»- altered in
Sio^t of wh wS-T,!" "'^ '»-' convenience anStte^aU
their^enu^thr™^^w ' '^°™'^ by a combination of those of
^inhp,ae^^tT^^„SS^?lr^^^ :l^;-^.-~^^t
appears to be a translation of Tsih-shih, "heipy stones," th«
F°,1.n7^,T°, r".'*' '°5o°'=exion with the founitioi of a state by
a^^nmif ^ I ""^ during his reign that the first Buddhist object
fr«,nP fl5 X '^" "^^.^"^ ^'^'' probably from Nepal Little
IS said of his three immediate successors. The fourth vras o-Nam-ri
srong btsan, who died in 630. During his reign the fibetans
Ch^^th'^'^ fi^t knowledge of arithmetic anfmeSlciTC
SS fLt "?rf " V°u e^*°^ ^^"^ "^ '^« country were so
fh!^ It !,f .? """S ^^^ K f^^ '^"** cement moist«.ed with
he mJk of the cow and the yak. " To the same king is attributed
the discovery of the inexhaustible salt mine calleS Chf^g-S:
tZti^"'t^'?.^^.= ""Orthem salt "), which still suppu5 S»
S^n <=r'"°° °^ ^'^''• ^^' "'S" of "^ illustrious sin, Sro^
«.^>,^?"P?' "P*!"-^ "P a "C" era; fie introduced Buddhism
and he art of wnting from ftdia, and was the founder (in 639) of
e^-i" 1^' ^ft^™"-!^. Lha-sa. He was greatly helped ii his p4s-
eh-tism by h.s two wves, one a Nepal princess, daughter of Sina
?-"l^A l'^*^^ ^%^^ "T" """^ princesses from the Ru-yoni
i7tJ.„ 1?^* IK^\ *^?° <g^°''^' appeUative for the natioil
be^.nL K-""* thelndian plains) co^tries. As a conquero?
nn^w! r'^^.i'^'^i^ ^" "■" "*^ unsubdued Kiang tribes of the
th^„b V^ ? '?.' west and in the south he cai^ied his pow.r
!^n^^^ J^tE?' i" '■''^ ^°'^'="' ^'"^^ of tl'^ Himalayas. How far
foi V.T^I ^^""^ "Ir^"" "' ^-J' '^'^"'^^'l i^ not known ; but S
T?h„f^„^ • 1 the country of the Brahmans rebelled, and tha
TibetanTcmg, the third successor of Srong btsan sgam-oo was killed
whUe atlempttng to r^tore his power.^ It is Sr^li^^^s tit^
nothing IS said of this Tibetan rale in India, except in the Chined
annals where it is mentioned unril the endof the mona^^hy ^tht
J^LfS?"^' ^J^l'^i-^.S over Bengal to the sea,-the Bay of
W^ being called the Tibetan Sea. J. R, Logan has fomid ethn^
logica and linguistic evidence of this dominalion, which was left
unnohced in the Indian histories. Mang-srong i^g btsi? St
second son and succ«sor of Srong btsan^sgam.%, coStinui^g th»
conquests of his father, subdued the TukSun Ktars around th«
l^r:^^ ',\'''; ^J- u^'*"oked the Chinese .- afteTTomeTdveS*
t^Vt 'l"*' *o°J^ '^'"^ ^^"°S« an'i penetrated as far as LhaS!
where they burnt the royal palace (Yi^bu-lagang). Khri^
^g-brtan-m^ag-ts'oms, the grandson of Man^olg and second
S>tl?„^?^°°/™"° ^"?' Promoted the spread of Buddhism and
hi^^l ^" «'n, Jangts'a Lhapon, who was famous for the
lKn?dL tr'^^l'^'>?'^ of the accomplished princess Kyim!
S^f" nf^'-l"^'"^" ^T^y^". of the Chines^ emperor J^-
aSi^l„„5\ *. b'^^ f"''"' ^C*' *^ ''^tb of her betrrthed, and
after ong hesitation became the bride of the father She Vava
Xl^^^,T-°'?°"''"'/^ oountry, because of the strenuous
six years (743-789). His son and successor Muni btsai-po beino-
thlTh?^d*°>i"^,?" ^ '"'"Jio'^ to the same level, ena^dlhat
ZZt ?r ^ no distinction between poor and rich, humble and
CtL,^%TP,"''' the wealthy to sfire their richa with &l
indigent and helpl^, and to make them their equals in respect of
f.., ,K ""^^"^^ioonditions of life. He repeated this Speri-
ment three times ; but each time he found that they aUret^^
to their former condition, the rich becoming stiU richer ^dtS
^the'lr'T V"' ^^ \*t^'"^t^ this^curiou^ X^menoa
^i^r,£^ *!if^ ^*^ of their former Uves. NotW of im
&n wb^"^ during the foUowing reigns, nnttl thlfof Ral-
S^Hh\,*-7 -T!" g'°/7 by his care for the translations o.' the
S^l ,t ^^"iit^^^^l'.ch he caused to be completed, or rewritten
more accurately when required. In this reign a severe stmrele
^n ^nT ^f.^l'h^^^'"'^ concludS^in mZ^Si
ngan and ratified at Lhasa the foUowing year by the erection Sf
bdingual tablets, which stiU exist. fiipLhen ^wTaSlS^t^
nli^^ T*"^ °^ gLang-dharma and thTconntry feUir^dU-
order. gLang-dharma instituted a violent persecution of Buddhism •
but he was soon assassinated in his turn, and the kingdom divided
^^n rt ^'"^ ^ ^t^™ P"t ^y ^ two sons. The partition
did not, however, prevent mtemecihe wai^. The history 1^ some
rime now becomes rather intricate, and requires some attention
iior tsan, tne second western king, after a reign of thirteen
years died leaving two sons, Thi Tasi Tsegpa-pal Ind Thi Kyida.
^ylmagon. The latter went to Ngari (Ungari) and founded the
capital Pnrang; he left three sons, of whom the eldest declared
himself king of Mang-yul (the Monhuil of our maps), the second
seized Purang and the youngest, Detsud-gan, becaie king of the
province of Sbang-sbung (the modern Ghnghe). The revival of
Buddhism began with the two sons of the last-named, the dder of
whom became a monk. The younger, Khorre, inherited his father'*
throne, and was followed in his authority by twenty successora.
iasi Isegpa also had three sons,— Palde, Hodde, and Kyid- The
descendanta of the first made themselves mast.rs of Gun«-fan?
Lugyalwa, Chyipa, Lhatse, Langlung, and Tsakor, where th^
T::1±I^±'^ ff"y chiefs. The_ descendant, of Kj-ide spread
themselves over the ilu, Jang,
23—14*
Tanag, Yaralag, and Gyalts*
XSIII. _ 44
346
TIBET
[langdags.
districts, where they also ruled as petty princes. Hodde left four
sons,— Phabdcse, Thide, Thich'ung, and Gnagpa. The first and
fourth became masters of^^Tsangrong, the second took possession of
Amdo and Tsongkha, the third became king of DbUs, and removed
the capital to Yarlung, south of Lhasa. He was followed on his
tlirone from son to son by eleven successors. History is silent as
to the fate of the eastern king, the othet- son of gLang-dharma,
and his successors, but the geographical names of the chieftainships
"enumerated above make it clear that the western kingdom had
extended its power to the east. Chronology is deficient for all that
period. \Vhile the dynasty of Khorre in Shang-shung and that of
Tbicb'ung in BbUs were running, another authority, destined to
tucome the superior of both, had arisen in Tibet. Khorr^ left his
throne to his son Lhade, who was himself succeeded by his three
Bons, the youngest of whom invited the celebrated Indian Buddhist,
Atisha, to leave his monastery Vikrama Shila for Tibet, where
he settled in the great lamaserai of Thoding in Ngari. Besides
religious books and teachings, he introduced in 102G the method
of computing time by cycles of sixty years, "obtained from the
Indian province of Shambala.'* He was the first of the several
chief priests wh'ose authority became paramount in the country.
The kings of DbUs greatly patronized them, as for instance in the
case of the celebrated Sakya Pandita by the seventh of these kings.
Tandita, at the special request of Kuyuk, the successor of Ogdai,
paid a visit to his court in 1246-48. Five years afterwards Kublai
Khan conquered all the east of Tibet , and, after he had ascended
the throne of China, the Mongol emperor invited to his court
Phagspa Lodoi Gyaltshan, tht nephew of the same Pandita. He
remained twelve years with the emperor, and at his request framed
for the Mongol language an alphabet imitated from the Tibetan,
which, however, did not prove satisfactory, and disappeared after
eighty-five years without having been very largely used. In return
for his services, Kublai invested Phagspa with sovereign power over
(1) Tibet proper, comprising the thirteen districts of U and Tsang,
(2) Kham, and (3) Amdo. From this time the Sakya-pa lamas
iecame the universal rulers of Tibet, and remained so. at least
nominally, under twenty-one successive lamas during seventy years
(1270-1340). Their name was derived from the Sakya monastery,
which was their cradle and abode, and their authority for temporal
matters was exercised by specially appointed regents. Mlien the
power of the Sakya began to wane, that of the rival monasteries of
Digung, Phagdub, and Tshai increased largely, and their respective
influence and authority overbalanced that of the successors of
Phagspa. It was at this troubled epoch that Chyang Chub Gyalt-
shan, better known as Phagmodu from the name of his native town,
appeared on the scene. He subdued Tibet proper and Kham, for
the continued possession of which he was, however, compelled to
fight for several years ; but he succeeded in the long run, and with
the approval of the court of Peking established a dynasty which
furnished twelve rulers in succession. When the Mongol dynasty
of China passed away, the Mings confirmed and enlarged the
dominion of the Tibetan rulers, recognizing at the same time the
chief lamas of the eight principal monasteries of the country.
Peace and prosperity gradually weakened the benign rule of the
kings of this dynasty, and during the reign of the last but one
internecine war was rife between the chiefs and nobles of U and
Tsang. This state of things, occurring just as the last rulers of
the Ming dynasty of China were struggling against the encroach-
ineuts of the Manchus, their future successors, favoured the inter-
ference of a Khoskot Mongol prince, Tengir To, called in the
Tibetan sources king of KoTco-nur. The Mongols were interested
in the religion of the lamas, especially since 1576, when Altan,
khakan of the Tumeds, and his cousin summoned the chief lama of
the most important monastery to visit him. This lama was Sodnam
rOyamtao, the third successor of Gedundub. the founder of the
Tashilumbo monastery in 1447, who had been elected to the more
important abbotship of Galdan near Lhasa, and was thus the first
of the great, afterwards dalai, lamas. The immediate successor of
Gedundub, who ruled from 1475 to 1541, had appointed a special
officer styled depa to control the civil administration of the country.
To Sodnam rGyamtso the Mongol khans gave the title of Vadjra
Dalai Lama in 1576, and this is the first use of the widely known
•title of dalai lama. During the minority of the fifth {really the
third) dalai lama, when the Mongol king Tengir To, under the
pretext of supporting the religinn, intervened in the affairs of the
country, the Pan-ch'en Lo-sang Ch Vkyi Gyal-ts'ang lama obtained
the withdrawal of the invaders ty the payment of a heavy war
indemnity, and then applied for help to the first Manchu emperor
of China, who had just ascended the throne. This step enraged
the Mongols, and caused the advance of Gushri Khan, eon and
auccessor of Tengir To, who luraded Tibet, dethroned all the petty
princes, including the king of Tsdng, and, after having subjugated
the whole of the country, made the fifth dalai lama supremo
monarch of all Tibet, in 1645. Tlie Chinese Govemment in 1653
confirmed the dalai lama in his authority, and he paid a visit to
the emperor at Peking. The Mongol Khoskotes in 1706 and the
Sungara in 1717 interfered again in the succession of the dalai
lama, but the Chinese army finally conquered the country in 1720,
and the present system of government was established. The events
which have happened since that time have been recorded in the
articles Lhasa and Ladak.
Language* and Literature.
Bod-skad is the general name of the language of Tibet, which Lan-
IS also occasionally called Gangs-6an-gyi skad (i.e. "the glaciers guage,
language "). This name is specially applied to the forms in use in
DbUs-gTsang The vernacular is called p'dl'Skad or common
language in contradistinction to the to's-skad or book language
Besides the Bod-skad there are two chiof dialects^ in Great Tibet, —
that of Kharas, spoken in the three provinces of Mdo (Darrtse-
mdo), Kham, and Gong in the east, and that of Ngari-Khorsum
m the west. Jaeschke arranged these dialects under three heads, —
(1) western, including those of Balti and Purig, the most archaic,
and of Ladak and Lahul ; (2) central, including those of Spiti and
of DbUs and gTsang , (3) Khams. To the same Bhot group belong
the Changlo or Bhutam or Lhopa, the language of Bhutan, of which
we have a grammatical notice by Robinson (1849), and the Serpa
and the Takpa, of Tawang, both of which are only known through
the vocabularies collected by Hodgson. The later Takpa forms the
tiansition between the Bhot group and the Si-fan group, which in.
eludes the Miniak, Sungpan, Lifan, and Thochu dialects, spoken
near the eastern borders, as well as the Horpa, spoken on a larger
area west of the preceding, and much mi«ed with Turkic in-
l The Capuchin friars who were settled in Lhisa for a quarter of a century
from 1719 studied the language ; two of them, Francisco Orazio delta Penna,
well known from his accurate description of Tibet, and Cassian di Maccrat*
sent home materials which were utilized by the Augustine friar Aug. Aut Georgi
of Riraini (1711.97) in his Alphabelum Tibetanum (Rome, 1762, 4to), a ponderous
and confused compilation, whjch may be still referred to, but with great caution.
The Tibetan characters were drawn by Delia Penna, and engraved by Ant.
Fontarita in 1738- In 1820 Abel Remusat published his R^ercJus rur la
Langues Tarlarts, a chapter of which was devoted to Tibetan. The next work
of importance was a dictionary, intended for European students, which wms
published, with Tibetan types, at the expense of the East India Company, In
1826 at Serampur, and edited by John Marshman, from a MS. copy made by
Fr. Chr. G. Schroeter, a missionary in Bengal, who had substituted Bngli^
for the Italian of the original. It was the UDsiTtea result of the labours of
an unknown Italian missiouary, who bad been stationed either in eastern Tibet
or close to the frontier in Bhutan. It was properly a collection of all the
sentences he could get written by a native teacher, completed with extracts
from the Padma tangyxg, a popular senes of legends about Padma Sambhava.
Unfortunately the work was left untinished, and unrevised, as there was do
Tibetan scholar to correct the proofs. Though richer in words than later
dictionaries, the work cannot, for these reasons, be accepted aa an authority
on any doubtful point. The grammatical notice, consisting of forty pages from
Schroeter, prefixed to this Z>icfi(m«TT/o/ (fte Bhotanto, or Butan. /.an^mafle, hardly
deserves mention. At Calcutta In 1834 the Hlinganan Alexander Csoma de
Koros (1784-1842) brought out his Dictionary, Tibetan and English, and hia
Grammar of Ihe Tibetan Language xn English, prepared on the western frontier,
where he had resided for several years at the monasteries of Yangla ami
Pukdal in Zanskar, and finally at Ranum in Upper Besahr, enjoying the help
of native scholars. Bis works are admirable so far as concerns the literary
language (chiefly that of the Buddhist translations). At St Petersburg J. J.
Schmidt published his GTammatik der Tibetischen $prache In 1839 and hJs
Tibetisch-Deulsches Worterbuch in 1841. but neither of these works justified the
great pretensions of the author, whose access to Mongolian sources had enabled
bim to enrich tbe results of hts labours with a.certam amount of information
unknown to bis predecessors. In France, P E. Foucaui published in 1847 a
tmnslatiOD from the Rgya tcher rol pa. the Tibetan version of the laiita Vistara,
and in 1858 a Grammawe Thibetauu ; while Ant Schiefner had begun at 8t
Petersburg in 1849 his senes of translations and researches. His Tibetue)u
Studten(\SS\-tiS) IS a valuable collection of documents and observations, lo
18rtl Lepsius published hts puper Ueber Chinesiscbe vnd Tihttischt^ LauiverMUtnisse;
and since 1864 L^on Feer has brought out in Pans many translations of texts
from Tibetan Buddhist literature- In 1849 the Jtrumal of the Asiatic Society
of Bengal pubUshed comparative vocabulanes of spoken and written Tibetan
by Bryan H. Hodgson, and grammatical notices of Tibetan (according to Csonu'a
grammar) and of Changlo. a Tibetan dialect, by W- Robinson But it was at
Singapore in 1652 that the general relationship of the Tibetan and the Bunnan.
now admitted in comparative philology, was established for the first time, by
J. R. Logan, in the Journal of the Indian Archipelago Prof. Max Muller, in his
" Letter on the Classification of the Turanian Lancuages" of 1853, arrived rn-
dependontly at aetmila; conclusion. In 1857 the Moravian nussionanea estab-
lished a station at Eyelang, distnct of Garza, Bntish Lahul, m Ladak, a school,
and a lithographic pre.sa, and it la to the labours of H. A. Jaeschke of thia
mission that we are iniJcbted for the most valuable materials for the practical
study of Tibetan. From 1860 to 1867 that scholar made several important com-
munications, chiefly with reference to the phonetics and the dialectical pro-
nunciation, to the academies of Berlin and St Petersburg, and in the Journal of
the Asiatic Society of Bengal. In 1868 at Kyelang he published by lithography
A Short Practical Grammar of the Tibetan Language, w^th special re/erenu to OU
spoken dialects, and the following year a Rnmanited Tibetan and English Dia-
twnary. He also published m 187 1 -76 at Onadau in Prussia by the same proceM
a Tibetan and OermaD dictionary. Aft«rward3 he prepared for the English
Govemment A Tibetan-English Dictionary, with special rijermce lo Ihz prrtvaxlinQ
diaiects, in 1881. Pr B. Weozel, one of his pupils, brought out in 1883 from
Uia MS. a Simplified Tibetan Grammar. Major Th. H. Lewin with the help of
a lama compiled A Manual of Tibetan, or rather a senes of colloquial phrases,
which was brought out at Calcutta ui 1879. A portion of the New Testament
has been translatwi into Tibetan. As regards native philology, the most
ancient work extant is a grammar of the Tibetan tongue, by Tonmi Sambot.i,
the introducer of the Indian alphabet, preserved in the P.'Jtan-hgyiiT (mdo
cxiiv). This collection also contains other works of the s.iraq kind, diction-
aries by later writpra, translations of many Sanskrit works on grammar
vocabulary. &c.. and bilingual dictionaries, Sanskrit and Tibetan. A a separate
Publications Ih^reare several vocabularies of Chinese and Tibetan ; Mongol and
ibetan; Chinese, Manchu. Mongol, Oolot, Tibetan, and Turkish, Tibetan.
Sanskrit, Manchu, Mongol, and Chinese.
3 There are mthout doubt many minor skad-tuga or dialects which are ctUJ
unkiio^vTi. K.ir instancr-. m the Pan-yul valley north of Lhiisa the tDhabltanta
are BSid to speuk an indistinct dkad-lugh.
LANCrAGE.]
TIBET
347
gredients. \V'ith the exception of the Sokpa, a Mongol diiUect, and
of the Gyarung, a pre-Chinese dialect, the languages spoken in Tibet
belong to the large linguistic family commonly called Tibeto-
Burnian, a division nf the Kucu-lun group, which is a part of the
Turano-Scytliian stock.
'ram- Tiie language is more consonantal than vocalic, though much
'2ar. softened in the central dialect. The consonants, 30 in number,
which are deemed to possess an inherent -ound a, are the follow-
ing:— i'a, Ar'a, ga, nga, fca, ta, dja, mja, fa, t^a, da, na, pa, pa, M,
jmr, tsa, ts'a, aca, ««, sha, za, 'A, ya, ra, la, sha, 5a, ha^'a ; the so-
called Sanskrit cerebrals are represented by the letters ta, t'a, da,
rta, sha turned the other way. y'a, when combined as second con-
sonant with i-, p-t Ml-, is written under the hrst letter. Ba, when
combined as second letter with k-, ^, p-, is written under the first,
and when combined with anotlter consonant as first letter over the
second. The vowels are a, i, it, c, o, which are not distinguished
as long or short in writing, though they are so in the vernaculars
ID the case of words altered by phonetic detrition. Agglomerations
of consonants are not objectionable ; and they are often met with
as initials, giving the appearance of telescoped words — an appearance
which historical etymology often confirms. Many of these initial
consonants are silent in the softened dialects of the central provinces,
or have been resolved into a simpler one of another character. The
language is much ruled by laws of euphony, which have been strictly
formulated by grammarians. Among the initials, five, viz., g, d, b,
m, 'h, are regarded as prefixes, and are called so for all purposes,
though they belong sometimes to the stem. As a rule none of
these letters can be placed before any of the same organic class.
Post-positions, pa or ba and ma, are required by the noun (sub-
stantive or adjective) that is to be singled out ; po or bo (masc.)
and TOO (fern.) are used for distinction of gender or for emphasis.
The cases of nouns are indicated by suftixcs, which vary their
initials according to the final of the nouns. The plural is denoted
when required by adding one of several words of plurality. When
several words are connected in a sentence they seldom require more
than one case element, and that comes last. There are personal,
demonstrative, interrogative, and reflexive pronouns, as well as
an indefinite article, which is also the numeral for "one." The
personal pronouns are replaced by various terras of respect when
speaking to or before superiors, and there are many words besides
which are only employee! in ceremonial language. The verb, which
is properly a participle, has no element of person, and denotes the
eonditions of tense and mood by an external and internal inflexion,
or the addition of auxiliary verbs and suffixes when the stem is not
susceptible of inflexion. The conditions which approximate most
closely to our present, perfect, future, and imperative are marked
either by aspiration of the initial or by one of the five prefix con-
sonants according to the rules of euphony, and the whole looks like
a former system thrown into confusion and disorder by phonetic
decay. As to the internal vowel, a or e in the present tends to
become o in the imperative, the e clianging to a in the past and
future ; i and u are less liable to change. A final s is also occasion-
ally added. Only a limited number of verbs are capable of four
changes ; some cannot assume more than three, some two, and
many only one. This deficiency is made up by the addition of
auxiliaries or suffixes. There are no numeral auxiliaries or segrega-
lives used in counting, as in many languages of eastern Asia,
though words expressive of a collective or integral arc often used
after the tens, sometimes after a smaller number. In scientific
and astrological works, the numerals, as in Sanskrit, are expressed
by symbolical words. In the order of the sentence the substantive
precedes the adjective and the verb stands last ; the object and
the adverb precede the verb, and the genitive precedes the noun on
which it depends. An active or causal verb requires before it the
■istrumental instead of the nominative case, which goes only before
a neuter or intransitive verb. The chief differences between the
classical language of the Tibetan translators of the 9th century and
the vernacular, as well as the language of native words, existed in
vocabulary, phraseology, and grammatical strncturc and arose from
the influence of the translated texts.
Philo- The Tibetan language, in its written and spoken forms, has a
\o^. great interest for philologists, on account of its bearing on the
' history of the so-called monosyllabic languages of eastern Asia. Is
the Tibetan a monosyllabic language passing to agglutination ? or
the "reverse ? , The latter is the fact, as we shall see further on.
The whole question has turned upon the elucidation of the pheno-
menon of the silent letters, generally prefixed, which diflerentiate
the spelling of many words from their pronunciation, in the central
dialect or current speech of Lhasa. As long as the sounds of this
dialect only were known, the problem could not be fully grasped.
Remusat rather dubiously suggested, while Schmidt and Schiefner
maintained, that the silent letters were a device of grammarians to
distinguish in writing words which were not distinguished in speech.
But this convenient opinion wa.". not sufficient for a general explaua-
tion, being supported by only a few Ci^es. Among these are — (a)
the addition of silent letters to foreign Wt,'-ds in analogy with
older terms of the language {e.g., the Persian UMJik was tran-
scribed staggzig ot "tiger-leopard," because the foreign term left
untouched would have been meaningless for Tibetan readers) ; (6)
the addition for the sake of uniformity of prefixed letters to words
etymolof^ically deprived of them ; (c) the probable addition of letters
by the Buddhist teachers from India to Tibetan words in order to
make them more similar to Sanskrit ex.pressions (for instance, rje-
for "king," written in imitation oi raja, though the original word
W3S>tf or sfie, as is shown by cognate languages). On the other hand,
while phonetically the above explanation was not inconsistent
with such cases as xka, dAah, bA-ah, bs^-a, and nga, rnga, ngag, sngags,
higa, iigad, and bnsr., brdzjai, dhtjar, kc, where the italicized letters
are pronounced in full and the others are left aside, it failed to ex-
plain other cases, such as dgra, mgrcni, spyod, spyan, sbrang, sbndt
bhra, Ar'ri, krad, k'rims, k'nis, ic, pronounced da, d&n, cod or
hvod, ten, datig, deti, ta, t'i, tad or tek, Ciyn, tu, kc, and many
others, where the spoken forms are obviously the alteration by
wear and tear of sounds originally similar to the wTitten forms.
Csoraa de Koros, who was acquainted with the somewhat archaic
sounds of Ladak, was .able to point to only a few letters as silent
But Major Cunningham, in his book on the same country (1854),
held that the Tibetan writing, when first applied to the language,
was the faithful transcription of speech, and lie gave as a proof that
the name of the province of U, written DbUs, was the Debasm of
Ptolemy. Foucaux, in his Grammaire (ISOS), quoted a fragment
from a native work on grammar several centuries old, in which the
pronunciation of the supposed silent letters is carefully described.
Since then the problem has been disentangled ; and now minor
points only remain to be cleared up. Jatrschke devoted special at-
tention to the dialectical sounds, and showed in several papers and
by the comparative table prefixed to his dictionary that in the
western and eastern dialects these sounds correspond more or less
closely to the written forms. Thus tlie valuable testimony of these
dialects may be added to the evidence fuiniUied by foreign tran-
scriptions of Tibetan words, loan words m conterminous languages,
and words of common descent m kindred tongues. And the whole
shows plainly that the written forms of words which are not of
later remodelling are really the representatives of the pronunciation
of the language as it was spoken at the time of the transcription.
The concurrence of the evidence indicated above enables us to form
the following outline of the evolution of Tibetan. In the 7tk
century there was no difference between thes.poken and the writteu
language. Soon afterwards, when the language was extended t»
the western valleys, the prefixed and most of the important con-
sonants vanished from the spoken words. The ya-tag a^nd ra-tof
or y and r subscript, and the s after vowels and consonants, wera
still in force. The next change took place in the central pro-
vinces ; the ra-tags were altered into cerebral dentals, and the ya-
tags became?. Later on the superscribed letters and finals rf and
s disappeared, except in the east and west. It was at this stage
that the language spread in Lahul and Spill, where the superscribed
letters were silent, the d and g finals weie hardly heard, and as, oa,
us, were at, oi, «i. The words introduced from Tibet into the
border languages at that time differ greatly from those introduced
at an earlier period. The other changes are more recent and re-
stricted to the provinces of U and Tsang. The vowel sounds at,
oi, ui, have become e, o, u ; and a, o, u before the finals d and %
are now a, b, u. The mcdi& have become aspirate tenues with a
low intonation, which also marks the words having a simple initial
consonant ; while the former aspirates and the complex initials
simplified in speech are uttered with a high tone, or, as the Tibetans
say, "with a woman's voice," shrill and rapidly. An inhabitant
of Lhasa, for example, finds the distinction between sh and z}i, or be-
tween s ands, not in the consonant, but in the tone, pronouncing jA
and s with a high note and zh and z with a low one. The in-
troduction of the important compensation of tones to balance
phonetic losses had begun several centuries before, as appears from a
Tibetan MS. (No. 4626 St Petersburg) partly published by Jaeschke
{Monalsber. Akad. BcrL, 1667). A few insunces will serve to illus-
trate what has been said. In the bilingual inscriptions, Tibetan
and Chinese, set up at Lhasa in S22, and published by Bushell in
1880, we remark that the silent letters were pronounced: Tib.
^pudgya.\, now pugyal, is rendered suk-pot-yc in Chinese symbols ;
khri, now t'iy is kieh-li ; kbrong is puk-lung ; snyan is shch-njoh
and su-njoh ; srong is su'lun, sji-liiTig, and si-tung. These tran-
scriptions show by their variety that they were made from the
spoken and not from the written forms, and, considering the
limited capacities of Chinese orthoepy, were the nearest attempt
at rendering the Tibetan sounds. Spra or $p7-cu (a monkey), now
altered into dcu at Lhasa, tea in Lahul, Spiti, and Tsang, is still
more recognizable in the Gyarung shcpri, ind in the following
degenerated forms — shrcic in Ladak, slrcu-yo in Khams and in
cognate languages, soba in Limbu, saheu in Lcpclia, simai in
Tablung Naga, sibeh in Abor Miri, shibe in Sibsagar Aliri, sarrha in
Kol, sara in Kuri, &c Gro^r-ma (ant), now altered into the spoken
t'oma, is still kyoraii. in Bhutan, and, without the suffix, korok iu
Gyarung, k'oro- in Sokpa, k'orok, k^aUk in Kiranti, &c Grang-^
(cold), spoken t'ammo, is still giang-mo in Takpa, k'yam in Eur-
348
T I B— T I B
Ir-f
Diese, &c. "i respectful word for " head " is «, written dhi, which
finds its cognates in Murmi' M060, Kusnnda chipi, Sibsagar Miri
■tub, &c. Biju (bird), spokctt chija, is stUl }iiic in Gyarung. Brjod
(to speak), pronounced >o(f, is cognate to the Burmese pijauhtso, the
Garo brot, &.r.. The word for "cowries" is 'gro7i- in written, rum-
In spoken Tibetan, and i)ru<a in written Burmese j slop (to learn),
spoken lop, is slop in Melam. "Jloon" iszlava in WTitten and
dau;a in spoken language, in which -va is a stiffix ; the word itself
is zla; cognate to the Jlongol ssara, Sokpa sara, Gyarung l-silc,
jVayu cholo, &c. The common spoken word for "head" is go,
written 711(10, to wliich the Munipuri moko and the Mislimi vikura
are related. Sometimes the written forms correspond to double
words which have disappeared. For instance, gi/e (eight), which
Is written brgyad and still spoken vrgyad in Balti in the west and
Khams in the cast, is gyad in Ladak, Lahul. and U. The same
word docs not appear ekcwhero; but we find its two parts separately,
such .IS Guri'.ng ;;;•(;, Murm' pre, Taksya />/ire, and Takpa<7;/c', Serpa
gyc, Garo chct, kc. Rta (horse) is reduced to ia in speech, but we
find ri, rhyi, roh in Sokpa, Horpa, Thochu, Miniak, and td, lah,
tch, t'ny in Lhopa, Serpa, Murmi, Kami, Takpa, kc, both with the
^me meaning. Such arc the various pieces of evidence obtained
from nn endless number of instances. The cases referred to above
do not, owing to the difference of the causes, yield to any explana-
tion of tliis kind. ^ 'And it must be admitted that there are also
many cases, tome of them caused by irregularities of writing,
aiodification of spelling by decay, and by a probable use of prefixes
kill unascertained, w-liich also resist explanation, though the
iccount just given stands good whatever solutiou^the question of
'prefixes may receive in future.
I Little is known of the non-reli"ious literature of Tibet. ^ The
most popular and widely circulated book is called The Hundred
Thouso nd Songs of Ike Venerable Mdaraspa.. ,Their author Milar-
as™ (unless the work should bo attributed to his disciples), often
callcil Mila, was a Buddhist ascetic of the 11th century ; according
to J.acschkc, during the inter\'als of meditation he travelled through
the southern part of middle Tibet as a mendicant friar, instructing
the iwople by his "improvisations in poetry and song, proselytizing,
'refuting and converting heretics, and working manifold miracles.
'His legends are not without wit and poetical merit. A number
\>i poems written in an elevated and special style, dramatic works,
and collections of fniry tales and fables are said to be in existence.
A very extensive work, the Vjning yg (Sgiuiis yg), regarded as the
national epic inJOi.-iin, has been partly seen by Desgodins and
Babcr. It is in prose; but the dialogue, interspersed with songs,
is metrical, and is much more extensive than tlie prose framework.
Religious discussions and [ilulosopliical dissertations alternate nith
'comic cpisodo3.| ; It, includes three divisions,— the Djiung ling,
*-hicli describes iho invasion of part of Tibet by the Djiung or
Moso ; the //or 'W/ij, which recounts theconquest of the Hor(Turk
tribes) by. the Tibetans, and conveys much historical information
In a tale of magic and marvel ; and the Djia ling (Chinese division).
Which nai rates a_contcst of unknown date between the Tibetans
and the ChincsCv ^/fhis work has apparently never been published,
and even the manuscripts of the three divisions cannot, says Baber,
)x: obtained in a complete form. > But every Tibetan; or at least
every native of Kham, who possesses any education, is able to recite
H-to chant passages of great length. ^ Auother^Tibctan epic, the
Gyaldrung, praises Dagyolong, a famous warrior who subdued the
savage men of Kham. Besides these poems we find allusions to a
sgrunq, referring to the Yesser Khan. Dramatic works exist, as
well as translations of Galen, also of the Ramnyana in the first
vol. of the Bstodtsogs of the Bstan-hgyur, ^ For the religious
literature, which is considerable, see Lamaism.'
Writing was not introduced until the 7th century. ' Notched Writing;
sticks {shing-ehram) and knotted cords wore in current use, but
the latter contrivance is only faintly alluded to in the Tibetan
records, while of the other there are numerous exarotiles. No
mention is anywhere made of a hierogljTihical writing, but on the
eastern fronricr the medicine-men or lomba of the Moso have a
peculiar pictorial writing, which is known in Europe from two
published MSS. (in Joum. Roy. As. Soe., 1885, vol. xvii.) ; though
apparently now confined solely to purposes of witchcraft, it perhaps
contains survivals of a former extensive system superseded by the
alphabetic writing introduced from India ' Accoriling to tradition
— a tradition of wTiich the details are open' to criticism— the alpha-
bet w-as introduced from India by Tonmi Samb'ota, who was sent
to India in 632 by King Srong btsan to study the Sanskrit language
and Buddhist literature. Tonmi Samb'ota introduced, the so-
called "\mting in thirty characters" (six of which do not exist ia
Sanskrit) in two styles, — the "thick letters" or "letters with
heads," now commonly used in printed books, and the half-cursive
"cornered letters," so called from their less regular heads. The
former are traditionally said to liave been derived fiom the Landza
character. The Landza of Nepal, however, is certainly not the
origin of the Tibetan letter, but rather an ornamental development
of the parent letter. The close resemblance of the Tibetan char-;
acters " with heads " to the Gupta inscriptions of Allahabad shovrs
them to have been derived from the monumental writing of the
period ; and various arguments appear to show that the other,
Tibetan letter came from the same Indian character in the style in
which it was used in common life.^ The Tibetan half-cursive was
further developed into the more current " headless" characters oi
which there are several styles. From the monumental writing of
Tibet was derived, for the special use of the Mongols in the 13th
century, the short-lived wTiting known as Bagspa, from the name
of the lama who worked it out. ^ ,^
5i6?iogmpftj/.— The worka of Csoma de Kords, AJcx.^CuQningham, Sar.it
Chandra Das, Desgodins, L^on Feer. Ed. Foucaux, A. A. Georgi, Bryan II.'
Hodgson, n. A. Jaeschlie, Th. FI. Lewin, Max Miiller, A. Wmusat, W. Hobln-'
son, J J. Schmidt, F. C. G- Schroeter. and A. Schiefner Iiavc been already men-
tioned, and those of J. W. BusheU, A. Campbell, T W. Rhys Davids. Hue .ind
Gabet, Keeppen, C. Markhani, Pallas, Ssanang Ssetsen. Schott, Pundit N.iin
Singh, and others ye referred to under Lamaism, Ladak and Oalti, and
Lhasa (ij'^.r.). The following also may be nanie<l ; E. Colbonie Babcr,
"Travels and Researches in Western China," in Ron Gcmi^. Soc. Svppl. Pairrs,
I., 1882; C. n. Desgodins, Le Thibet d'nprcs la corrcsjwtdance tics Misswnatrts,
Paris, 1885; Th. Duka, Life and Works of AUicmder Cso^na de Koros, London,
188J : Konrad Ganzenmuller. Tibet, Stuttgart, 1878 ; Krick, Relation d' tin
Voyage au Thibet en 1S5S, Paris, 18&4 ; A. Krishna. Erplorntions in Great Tibet
and Mongolia, made in 1879-8?; Report prepared by J. B. N. Hennessey, Dehra
Dun, 1884, fol ; Terrien de Licouperie, " Beginnings of Writing in .^iid around
Tibet," in Joum. Roy. As. Soc , 1885, xvii. ; Id., The Languages of China heforf
the Chinese, London, 18S7 ; J. R. Logan, in Jonr^iat of the Indian Arenijxl.i'jo
Eastern Asia, vol. vi , Singapore, IS.W . W. Wooilvdle Rockill, "The Early
Histflry of Bod-j-ul," append Ut The Life of the Buddha, from Tibetan sources,
London, 1884 ; Em. von Schlagintweit, Die Koenigevon Tibet, Munich, li^liO. and
Buddhism in Tibet, London, 1 V»3 ; H. Strachey, Physical Gee,grophy of ll'e^tfrn
Tilxti Trailer, Joum. Roy. Grog. Soe., 1877, vol. slvu.; U.M^lc, The Book of So
Marco Polo, 2d cd., London, 1874. T. DE L ) ,*
TIBULLUSrALBius'(c.' 5-1-19 b.c), was the second in
the tetrad of the elegiac poets of Rome.' As we learn
from Ovid, he was the succr-sor of Cornelius Callus and
(bo immediate predecessor of Propcrtius. The informa-
tion which we possess about' him is extremely meagre.
Besides the poems themselves — that is to say, the first and
second books — we have only a few references in later
authors and a short Life of probable but not undoubted
genuineness.^ We do not know his pra;nomen ; ,and his
birthplace is uncertain. • It is, however, a plausible con-
jecture that he came from Cabii. i Tlie year of his birth
bas been variously assigned ; but 54 B.C. may be taken as
smproximatcly correct. This would make him about twenty-
five when lie accompanied Messala on his Aquitanian cam-
paign ill 29, and tliirty-five at his untimely death m 19.
His station .was that of a Roman knight; and he had
'inherited a very considerable estate. But, like Virgil,
Horace, and Properlius, he seems to have lost the greater
part of it in 4 I amongst tlie confiscations wliich Antony
and Octavian found expedient to satisfy the rapacity of
llieir victorious soldiery. Tibullus, like Propertius, seems
to have lost his father early. He once mentions his mother
and sister ;' and,~according to^Ovid's elegy apon him7tliej'
were alive at his death. '
V Tibullus's chief friend "and ^patron was j^l.j Valerius
Messala Corvinus, himself an orator and poet as well as a
statesman and commander. Messala, like Ma:)ccnas, wa£
the centre of a literary circle in Rome ; but the bond be-
tween its members was that of literature alone. 'They
stood in no relations to the court; and the name of
Augustus! is never once to be found in the writings of
TibuUus. It was doubtless this community of taste which
gained the young poet the friendly notice of Messala, who
offered him an honourable position on his private staH
when ho was despatched at the end of 30 by Augustus to
quell the Aquitanian revolt.. Tibullus distinguished him
self in the campaign and was decorated for his services
But this did not rouse in him any military ardour. LIis
tastes lay in quite other directions; and he always speaks
of war with horror and dislike. : At the end of the wai
in 29 Tibullus returned to Rome, and thenceforward his
life seems to have been divided between Rome and his
country estate, though his own preferences were altogethei
for the r.ouiitiy life. Soon after his return he made lh(
TIBULLUS
349
E^i|uainlance ot liir first love, Delia. This is what he
calls her in his |K>cins ; but we learn from Apuleius that
licr real name was Plania. Delia seems to have been a
woman of middle station. It is impossible to give an
exact account of the intimacy. The poems which refer to
iicr are arranged in no chronological order. She appears
now as single, now as married ; but we do not hear any-
thing either of Ucr marriage or of her husband's death.
It IS cfear, however, that it was the absence of her hus-
band on military service in Cilicia which gave Tibullus the
opportunity of making or renewing the acquaintance. It
■was not dropped when he returned, probably with Messala
in 27. It was not a difficult task to deceive the simple
soldier ; and Delia was an apt pupil in the school of de-
ception,— too apt, as Tibullu3''saw with dismay when he
found that he was not the only lover. His entreaties and
tppeals were of no avail ; and after the first book we hear
no more of Delia. It was during the earlier period of this
attachment and probably in the spring of 28 that, yielding
to his friend's earnest and repeated requests, Tibullus left
Delia to accompany Messala on a mission to Asia. He
fell ill, however, and could not get farther than Corcyra.
In the second book the place of Delia is taken by Nemesis,
which is also a fictitious "name. Nemesis (like the Cj'nthia
of Propertius) was a courtesan of the higher class ; and she
had other admirers besides Tibullus. He complains bitterly
of his bondage, and of her rapacity and hardheartedness.
In spite of all, however, she seems to have retained her
hold on him until his death. TibuUua died prematurely,
probably in 19, and almost immediately after Virgil, in
order, as their contemporary Domitius Marsus pathetically
puts it,
> " That none might sing of gentle love in elegy's sad lay,
Or K^llawt march of royal war on epic feet essay."
The chancter of Tibullus is reflected in his poems. Though not
jiH admirable it is certainly au amiable one. He was a man of
■generous impulses and a gentle unselfish dijspositioa. He was loyal
lo his friends to the verge of sclf-sacriBcc, as is shown by his leaving
Delia to accompany Messala to A5;ia, and constant to his mistresses
with a constancy but ill deserved. His tendemesa towards them is
enhanced by a refinement and delicacy of feeling which are very
rare amongst the ancients, Horace and the rest taunt the cruel
fair with the retribution that is coming with the years, when they
will exxilt over the decay of the once imperious beauty. If Tibullus
refers to such a fate, he does it by way of warning and not in any
petty spirit of triumph or revenge. Cruelly though he may have
Leen treated by his love, he does not invoke curses upon her head.
He goes to her little sister's grave, hung so often with his garlands
^nJ wet with his tears and bemoans his fate to the dumb ashes
there. Tibullus has no leanings to an active life : his ideal is a
^uiet retirement in the country with the loved one at his side. He
has no ambitioo and not even the poet's yearning for immortality.
His muse may go packing if it cannot propitiate the fair. As
^"ibullus loved the country life, its round of simple duties and
innocent recreations, so he dung to its faiths, and in an age of crude
materialism and the grossest superstition he was religious in the
old Roman way. A simple, gentle, affectionate nature such as his
could not fail tovrin esteem ; and his early death caused deep regret
io Rome. Tibullus was remarkable, his biographer tells ns, for his
go<xi looks and the care that he bestowed upon his person. As a
poet he reminds us in many respects of the English Collins. His
clear, finished, and yet unsiffected style made him a great favourite
with his conntrj'raen and placed him, in the judgment of Quin-
tilian, at tfie h^d of their elegiac writers. And certainly within
his own range he has no Roman rivaL For natural grace and
tenderness, for exqnisiteness of feeling -4nd expression, he stands
alone. He has far fewer faults than Propertius, and in particular
he never overloads his lines with Alexandrian learning. Bnt, for
all that, his range is limited ; and in power and compass of ima-
gination, in vigour and originality of conception, in richness and
variety of poetical treatment, he is much his inferior. The same
differences are perceptible in the way the two poets handle their
metre, Tibullus is smoother and more musical but liable to be-
come monotonous ; Propertius, with occasional harshnesses, is more
vigorous and varied. It need only be added that in many of
TibuUus's poems a symmetrical composition is obvious, althongh
the symmetry must never be reduced to a fixed and unelastic scheme.
It is prolxtble that we have lost some of the genuine poems' of
Tibnllua. On the other hand, much has come down to us under
his name which must certainly tw assigned to otners. Only the
first and second books of the usual order, or about 1240 verses, can
chiim his authorship. The fii^t book consistj of poems written at
various times between 30 and 26. It was probably published about
25 or 24. The second book seems to have been a posthumous publi-
cation. It is very short, containing only 428 verses, and is evi-
dently incomplete. In both books occur poems which give evidence
of internal disorder ; but scholars cannot agree upou the remedies
to be applied.
The third book, which contains 290 verses, is by a much inferior
hand. The writer calls himself Lygdamus and the fair that he
sings of Neaera. He was born in the same year as Ovid, in the
consulship of Hirtius and Pansa ; but there is nothing Ovidian
about his work. He has very little poetical power, and his stj'le
is meagre and jejune. He has a good many reminiscences and imi_-
tations of Tibullus and Propertius ; and they are not always happy.
The separation of the fourth book from the third has no ancient
authority. They form one in the best MSS.,and are quoted as one
in the anthologies of the Middle Ages. The division dates from
the revival of letters, and is due to the Italian scholars of the 15th
century. The fourth book consists of poems of very dilferent
quality. The first is a composition in 211 hexameters on the
achievements of Messala ; and very poor stuff it is. The author is
unknown ; but he was certainly not Tibullus. The poem itself was
written in 81, the year of Messala'* consulship. The next eleven
poems relate to the loves of SulpiciA and Cerinthus. Sulpicia was
& Roman lady of high station ana the daughter of Valeria, Messala's
sister. She had fallen violently in love with Cerinthus, about
whom we know nothing but what the poet tells us ; and he soon
reciprocated her feelings. Thu Sulpicia elegies divide into two
groups. The first comprises iv. 2-6, containing ninety-four lines,
in which the theme of the attachment is' worked up into four grace-
ful poems composed for Sulpicia and Cerinthus aitemately. The
second, fv. 8-12 (to which seven should be added), consists of
Snlprria's own letters. They are very short, only forty lines in all ;
but they.have<a quite unique interest as being the only love poems
by a Eoman woman that have escaped the ravages of time. Theii
frank and passionate outpourings remind us of Catullus. The
style and metrical handling betray the novice in poetical writing;
and the Latinity is "feminine." The thirteenth poem (twenty*
four lines) claims to be by Tibullus ; but it is a miserable forgery.
It is little more than a cento from TibuUua and Propertius. The
fourteenth is a little epigram of four lines. There is nothing to
determine its authorship. Last of all comes the epigram of Domixius
Marsus already referral to. To sura up : the third and fourth
books appesr in the oldest tradition as a single book ; if separated,
they would contain only 290 and 373 lines respectively, as' against
812 of the first book and 42S of the incomplete second ; and they
comprise pieces by different authors and in very different styles,
none of which can be assigned to Tibullus with any certainty. The
natural conclusion of this is that we have hero a collection of
scattered compositions relating to Messala and the members of bis
circle which has been added as an appendix to the genuine relics of
Tibullus. When this collection was made cannot be exactly de-
termined ; bnt it was certainly not till after the death of TibuUos,'
and probably not till after Messala's. Besides the foregoing, two
pieces in the collection called Friapea have been attributed to
Tibnllus ; but there is very little external and no internal evidence
of hia authorship. The text of Tibullus is, on the- whole, better
preserved than that of Catullus, and still more so than that of
Propertius. But it still contains many corruptions and several
lacunae, besides the disarrangements already referred to.
The value of the short Vila Tibulli, which is found at the end
of the Ambrosian and Vatican, also of inferior, MSS., has been
much discussed. E. Baehrens maintains that it is genuine, and
possibly an abstract from the book of Suetonius, De Poetis, — a con-
jecture supported by the fact that even in so short a piece of writing
more than one Suetonian phrase occurs (Baehr., Twullische BlatL,
p. 4 $q.)^ — while Schulze {Ztschr. f. d. Gymnasialioescn^ Berlin, zxxiL
658) regards it as a mere ri/aciTnento of Horace, Bp.t L 4, and
various passages in Tibullus. E. Hiller {Rhein. Mus.j rviii. S50)
thinks it genuine, but assigns it to the late classical period, — a
view qtiite consistent with an ultimate Suetonian origin. It is as
follows : — " Albius XibuUus, eques R. e Gabiis [Baehrens's ingeni*
ous conjecture for the MS. eques rtgalis, R. being the customary
abbreviation for Romanitsi], insignia forma cultuque corporis observa-
bilis, ante alios Corvinum Messalam ob ingenium [so Baehr., MSS.
originerTL, others oratoTeni] dileiit, cuius et contubernalia Aquitanico
bello militaribus donis donatus est. Hie multorum iudicio prindpem
inter elegiographos optinet locum. Epistulae quoque eins, quam-
qoam breves, omnino utiles sunt [so the MSS. ; Baehrens reads
subiiXes. The letters referred to are Sulpicia's]. Obiit adulesceas,
ut indicat epigramma superscriptum " (i.e., the one ascribed to
Domitius Marsus. These words seem to be a later addition to the
Life). — Another moot question of some importance is whether our
poet should be identified with th^ Albius of Horace (CW^, i. 33 ;
Epist., L 4), as is done by the commentator. Porphyrio (200-250^
350
TIBULLUS
■..D.) in his Scholia. In the rormer passage Horace tells Albius to
Qoderate his grief at the cruelty of Glycera, nor to descant in
piteous elegies on her broken faith and the victory of a yoanger
rival. It is clear that Glycera cannot be Nemesis ; for it is a
pseudonym, as the context shows, and Horace would, of course,
iave nsed the same pseudonym as Tibullus. If, on the other
hand. Nemesis were a real name, Horace had no occasion to use
a pseudonjTn. It is possible that Tibullus had another mistress,
Glycera, of whom we know nothing further, and that the misembiles
elegi have perished ; but this is a mere supposition. The Albius of
the- epistle has an estate at Pedum, where Horace conjectures he
may be musing or writing. He is handsome, rich, and knows how
to enjoy life. Ho is wise and has the gift of speech, popularity,
reputation, and good health abuncU, — an enviable list of attributes,
bat certainly one which does not agree very well with what we
know from elsewhere of Tibullus'. The theory, then, that these
passages refer to Albius Tibullus must be pronounced, with Baehrens,
unproven ; and the forma of Horace's Albius must not be used, as
Sdhulze uses it, to subvert the credit of the iTisitrnis forma of the
lAfe.—Ovii, Trist., iv. 10, 63 aq., "successor fuit hie [TibuUiis]
tioi, GaUe, Propertius illi, quartus ab his serie temporis ipse fui."
lo the preceding couplet he had said, " Vergilium vidi tantum nee
amara Tibullo tempus amicitiie fata dedere meae." Ovid, who was
born in 43, would be only twenty-four at Tibullus's death if it
occurred in 19. — The loss of Tibullus's landed property is attested
by himself (L 1, 19 sq.)^ " Vos quoque felicis quondam, nunc
pauperis agri custodes, fertis munera vestra. Lares. Tunc vitula
innumeros lustrabat csesa iuvencos ; nunc agna exigui est hostia
parva soli" (comp. 41, 42). Its cause is only an inference, though
a very probable one. That he was allowed to retain a portion of
his estate with the family mansion is clear from iL 4, 53, '*Quin
etiam sedes iubeat si vendere avitas, ite sub imperium sub titulum-
que, Lares." Compare the passages quoted above and i. 1, 77, 78. —
Uessala composed epigrams (Plin., Ep., v. 3) and bucolic poems
(comp. the pseudo-virgilian Cataltpton^ ii. ) ; but he was more con-
spicuous as a patron than as a poet. On his circle and that of
Maecenas, see Teuffel, Oesch. der rdmiechcn Literalur, 4th ed., p.
431 (vol. L p. 389 of the Eng. transl.). Other members of the circle
were Messala's brother, Pedius Publicola, ^milius Macer (probably
the Macer addressed in ii. 6), Valgius Rufus, Lygdamus, Sulpicia,
and others, and even Ovid to a certain extent (Ov., Pont., i 7, 28
tq. ; TrisL ,' iv. 4, 27 sj. ). Tibullus was Messala's conluiemalis in
the Aquitanian war {yUa Tib. and Tib., i. 7, 9 5?., a poem com-
posed for Messala's triumph) It should be stated that the date of
the Aquitanian 'campaign is still undetermined- It has been
assigned to 30, 29, and 28. He received militaria dona ( Fita) ;
Baehrens unkindly suggests it was for purely poetical services ( Tib.
BL, p. 15). Tibullus's^islike of war is always coming to the surface
{e.g., i. 3 ; i. 10), and so also his love of quiet and retirement (i. 1 ;
iL 1 , 3, 1 sq.). — Apuleius {.Apol., 10), "accusent Tibullnm . . . quod
6] sit Plania in animo, Delia in versn " ; this is the most probable
form of the name, Delia (S^Xos) being a translation of Plania. As
regards her station, it should be noticed that she was not entitled
to wear the stola, the dress of Roman matrons (i. 6, 68). Her husband
IS mentioned as absent (L 2, 67 sq.). She eludes the custodes placed
over her (i. 2, 15, and 6. 7). Tibullus's suit was favoured by Delia's
mother, of whom he speaks in very affectionate terms (L 6, 57 sq.).
For Tibullus's illness at Corcyra, see i. 3, 1 sq. , 55 sq. The fifth
elegy was written during estrangement {discidium) and the sixth
aher the return of the husband and during Delia's dquble infidelity.
On the ditSculty of "harmonizing" the Delia elegies, see F. I,eo
(in Kiessling and Wilaraowitz-Mollendorfs Pkilol. ITrUers.f ii pp.
19-23), who is, however, too scepticaL Any other attachments that
Tibullus formed (such as the supposed one for Glycera) must have
fallen between the end of the Delia and the beginning of the
Nemesis connexion. — Ovid, writing at the time of "ribullus's death
(Am., iii 9, 31), says — " Sic Nemesis longum, sic Delia, nomen habe-
bunt, altera cura recens, altera primus amor." Nemesis is the sub-
ject of book ii. 3, 4, 6.' The mention of a lerta (iL 6) settles her
position. The connexion had lasted a year when iL 5 was written
(see ver. 109). It is worth noticing that Martial selects Nemesis as
the source of Tibullus's repntation, *' fama est arguti Nemesis lasciva
TihuWi" (Epvqr., viiL 73, 7); compare xiv. 193, "ussit amatorem
Nemesis lasciva Tibullum, in tota iuvit quern nihil esse domo,"
where, however, the second line is taken from one of the Delia
elegies. Ovid, Amores, iii. 9, 58, "me tenuit moriens deficiente
manu." The point of this can only be seen by reference to Tib., LI,
60, where Delia is addressed, " te teneam moriens deficiente manu."
— The epigram of Domitius Marsus on his death is as follows : "Te
quoque, Vergilio comitem, non jequa, Tibulle, Mors iuvenem campos
misit ad Elysios, ne foret aut elegis moUes qui fleret amores ant
caneret forti regia bella pede." — Tibullus condemns the rough
handling which the inamorata often suffered from her Roman lover,
e.g.t L 10, 59-60 — "A! lapis est femimque, suam quicumque puellam
rerberat ; e caelo deripit illo deos." The tenderness of the passage
•Paraphrased above (ii. 6, 41) is perhaps unmatched in ancient poetry :
'desmo, ne dominse luctus renoventur acerbL Non ego sum tanti
ploret ut iila semel." — His love for a rustic life and rustic worship'
appears throughout whole poems, as in L 1 and ii. 1, 2. Of his
poetry he says (ii. 4, 19), "Ad dominam faciles aditus per carmina
qusero ; ite procul, Musse, si nihil ista valent." — Specimens of
Tibullus at his best may be found in L 1, 3, 89-94 ; 5, 19-36 ; 9,
45-63; ii. 6. Quintilian says l,Imt., x. 1, 93), "Elegia quoque
Grsecos provocamus, cuius mihi tersus atque elegans niaxime videtur
auctor 'Tibullus ; sunt qui Propertium malint ; Ovidius utroque las-
civior sicut durior GaUus." — Ovid {Am., I.e.) well calls him cullus.
Martial argutus, " fine-toned." A short but not inadequate account
of Tibullus's prosody is given by L. Mueller In his introduction
to Tibullus {Catullus, Tibullus, wnd Propertius, Leipsic, 1880).
Catullus and Tibullus lengthen a short vowel ■ before sp and fr ;
Propertius always keeps it short in similar conjunctions, even
where s is followed by two consonants, as in striges. Catullus,
and in three cases Tibullus, allow a trisyllabic verb to close th«
pentameter. Propertius never permits himself this liberty, al-
though in his earlier poems he has as many trisyllabic endings a»
Tibullus. — The chronology of the first book is discussed amongst
others by Baehrens {Tib. Bl., pp. 12-24). But the data do not
admit in all cases of his precise determinations. Baehrens and
Hiller {Bermes, xviiL 353) agree that the second book was post-
humous. If it had been known to Ovid when he wrote his elegy
on the poet's death, it seems certain that he would have quoted
from it. Hiller assigns 2 B.C. as an inferior limit, by which time
Ov., Ars Am., iii. 3, 535 sq., must have been written. Amongst
the "disarranged poems" are L 1, 4, 6 and iL 3, 5. Proposed re-
arrangements of them maybe found in Hiller's Tibullus (1885).
Charisius (pp. 65 and 105) quotes part of a hexameter which is not
found in the extant poems of Tibullus.
The Tibullian authorship of book iii. has long ago been sur-
rendered by scholars. Its latest defenders have been Fuss {De
Elegg. Libro quem Lygdami esse puta-rU, Miinster, 1867) and the
English translator, J. Cranstoun. It has Been suggested that
Lygdamus {\6yiot, white marble) is a Grecizing qf Albius, some
relation of Tibullus (compare Hiller, Mermes, xviiL 353, n. 2) ;
and this is possible. Gruppe's long-exploded theory that Ovid
was the author has been recently revived by J. Kleeman {Ve Libri
III. tiarminibus qiiss Tibulli Nomine circumferuntur, Strasburg,
1876). Considerable diiSculty is caused by iii. 5, 15-20, which
contains agreements with three passages of Ovid, Ars Am., iL 669
sq. ; Tr., iv. 10, 6: "cum cecidit fato consul uterque pari"
(Lygdamus and Ovid using word for word the same expression for
the year of their birth, the consulship of Hirtius and Pansa) ; and
Am., xL 14, 23 sq., which are mnch too close to be accidental, and
in which the theory that Ovid was the imitator is excluded by th»
fact that the Unes are much more appropriate to their surroundings
in Ovid than in Lygdamus. In consequence Baehrens ( Tib. Bl. ,
40) regards the poem as written after 13 a.d., the date of the
Trislia, while Huler [I.e., p. 359) regards the lines as a later addi-
tion by Lygdamus himself In either case it would be published
after 13. The line quoted above may have obtained proverbial
currency before either of the passages was written, as the death of
both consuls in one year would have impressed the Roman imagina
tion as powerfully as the coincident deaths of Adams and Jefferson
did the American. In that case no part of book iii need be later
than the Christian era For Lygdamus's imitations of Tibullus,
see Gmppe, Die rbmische Elegie, L 112 sq. There are resemblances
between the pseudo-Tibullus and the Catalepton {B^hr., op. cit., p.
52). —The view of Baehrens ( Tib. Bldtl., 49) and others that iiL
and iv. originally formed one book may now be considered estab-
lished, in spite of Birt's objections {Das antike Buchwesen, 426 sq. ) ;
and Hiller in his edition prints them as one. They were published
some time after book ii., probably after the death of Messala (Baeh-
rens, op. cit., 48, adds, "and of his eon Messalinus"). Further
determination of the data is impossible. We do not know when
they were added to the genuine poems of Tibullus ; but it was prob-
ably before the Life was written. — Most scholars since Lachmann
{Kl. SchT.,i\. 149) have condemned the "Panegyric on Messala."
It is an inflated and at the same time tasteless declamation, entirely
devoid of poetical merit. The language is often absurdly exagger-
ated, e.g., 190 sq. The author himself seems to be conscious of
his own deficiencies (1 sq., 177 sq.). All that we know about him
is that he, like so many of his contemporaries, had been reduced
to poverty by the loss of his estates (181 sq.). The date is fixed
by 121 sg.— Sulpicia was the daughter of Servius Sulpieius (iv. 10,
4), and she seems to have been under tie tutelage of Messala (cf.
14, 5-8), her uncle by marriage (Haupt, Bermes, iv. 33 sq.). Cerin-
thus is a real name. He was probably a Greek (Baehr., p. 41 and
note). He is not to be identihed with the Comutus addressed in
Tib., ii. 2, 3. Gruppe {op cit., 27) and Teuffel {Studien, 367) attri-
bute iv. 2-6 to Tibullus himself ; but the style is different, and it
is best to answer the question as Baehrens does (p. 46) with a mo«
liquet. For Sulpicia's style and its feminine Latinity, compare
Gruppe {op. cit., i. 49 sq.). — The direct ascription of iv. 13 (versa
13—" nunc licet e«aelo mittatur arnica Tibullo") to Tibullus prob-
ably led to its being included in the coUectioil. . Later on, it and
T I B— T I C
351
the epigram together caused the addition of the pseudo-TiboUiana
to the genuine works. Although not suspected till recently, it is
unquestionably spurious ; see the examination by Postgate {Joum.
of FhiL, ix. 2S0 sq.). — The authorship of the two Friapea (one an
epigram and the other a longer piece in iambics) is discussed by
HiBer {Henrus, xviil 3-13-9). His conclusions are that, as regards
the iambics, the theory that Tibullus was its author, though from
the nature of the case it does not admit of complete disproof, rests
upon the slightest of foundations, and, as regards the epigram, that
the hypothesis of a Tibullian authorship is quite inadmissible.
The text of Tibullus is in a much better condition than it was in Lachmann'B
time, thanks to the recent discovery of new MSS. by E. Baehrena. Of these
the Ambrosiacus (A), of date about 1374, and the Vaticaous (V). end of the 14th
or beginning of the 15th century, agree so closely that they can be referred to
*n original extant id the early part of the 12th or Uth century but long eince
lost. A third is the Gueiferbytanua (G), written In Lombard characters, but
on parchment of the beginning of the 15th century. Baehrens. who attaches
great importance to the original readings of this codex, considers it a faithful
copy of • 10th of Htb century MS. Besides these we have a number of extracts
from Tibullus in the FJoriUgium Paruinum, an anthology from various Latin
writers wbich probably dates back to the ilth century, and which we have
from two MSS. at Pans (7647 and 17903) ; see Meyncke, Rh^n. Afia , xiv. 369
tq. Baehrens considers that these excerpta Pansina and O are closely con-
Bect«d, and that their ongmal and that of A and V were both descended from
a more ancient MS., wbich he calls O, but which was still fuP of corruptions.
The so-called Eieerpta Frisingensui, preserved in an llth<entary MS. (oow at
Monicb), but unfortunately very few in number, are extracted from a much
tetter MS. than O. Still better was the fm^m^/Uum Cuuurianum, which we
know only from Scaligefs collation (in the library at Leyden), and which ie
to be carefully distinguished from the codex Cuiacianus, a late H3. contaming
CatoUus. Tibullus, and Propertius, and stiU extant. It only contained from
Ul. 4, 66 to the end. The codices which Lachmann used are later than all the
forgoing and fall of ioterpoLations. Baehrens's estimate of the MS. authorities
for TtbuUus has not been accepted in all lU details. Id particular his high
estimate of G has been disputed by Leo, op. cit., p. 3; Rothstein, De Tiindli
CodxcUfxis, p. 67 iq. (who also endeavours to raise Lachmann's MSS. to an inde-
pendent position again); and others. R. Leonhard, in a careful disserta-
Uon. Dt Codwnfrttj Tt-buUiania Capita Tno (Munich, 1SS2), agrees with Baehrena
to the main, though his pedigree of the MSS. (p. 53) is more elaborate.
fdutoTu.— The Brst two editions of Tibullus and the pseodo-Tibulliana are
that with Catullus, Propertius, and the Silvse of Statius by Vindelin de Spira
(Venice, 1472) and one of Tibullus separately by Florentius de Argentina, prob-
ably printed in the same year. Compare Buschke, Tibulluj, Praf., vi. tq.,
xxiii. sq. Amongst others we may mention those by Scaliger (with CJatullos
and Propertius, Pans. 1677, 1682, &c), Broukhuys (Amsterdam, 1708X Vulpioa
(Padua, 1749), Heyne (Leipsic, 1817, 4th ed. by Wunderlich ; with supplement
by Dissen, 1819), Buschke (Leipsic. 1819, 2 vols.), Lachmann (Bcrho, 1829,
the flr^t critical edition), Dissen (Gottingen. 1835). The moat important edition
with critical apparatus 13 that of E. Baehrens (Leipsic, 1878). TTie most recent
edition, with critical introduction and index, is E. Biller's (Leipsic, 1885).
Recent texts are those of L. Mueller (Leipsic, 1880; also with C^atullus and
Propertius)and Baupt-Vahlen (Leipsic, 1886). There is no good recent comment-
ary on Tibullus; we nave to fall back on Beyneand Dissen. That by B. Fabricius
(Berlin, 1881) does not even comprise all the poema Some contributions
are made to the subject In P. Leo's paper in Kiessling's and Wilamowitz-
Uoellendorfs PhUol, Onters., It p. 3 sq., and by J. Vahlen in the MoiiaUberichU
of the Berlin Academy, 1878. pp. 343-366. For fnller bibliographies, see Engel-
inann 8 Bibliclfuca Scnpt07-um LaiiTurrum (ed. Preuss, 1882) and J. E. B.
Mayors Bibluj^aphuxU Clue to Laiin Lit<raiure (1876X For the older editions,
eee the preface to Buschke's. There isan excellent account of Tibullus in W.
8. Teuffels Gesch. <L romxsch. literalur (4th ed., L. Schwabe, 1S82). Those
in the Eng. tr. and Paul/s ReaX-Encyidtypadit are antiquated. The following
translations into English verse are known,— by Dart (London, 1720). Grainger
(Ix}odon, 1739, 2 vols., with Latin text and notes, subsequently reprinted),
Cranstoun (Edinburgh and London, -1872). An Essay tovyards a Neto Edition of
tiu BUgiea of TibiUlua, vnth a Translation and Notes (London, 1792), merely con-
tains i. 1 and 7, 29-48. Sir C. A- Elton, Specimens of the Classic Po<is (London,
1814, vol. xii. 141171) contoina i. 1 ; li. 4 ; iii. 2-4 ; 6, 33 to end ; iv. 2, 3. To
these ahoold probably be added Tibullus, vrith other IranslatioTts from Ovid,
Horace, Ac, by Richard Whifan, London, 1829. Cranstoun's is the only com-
plete version of merit ; but it is fkr inferior to the tranalations by Elton, from
whom Cranstoun seems sometimes to have borrowed. (J. P. P.)
TIBUR. See Tivoli.
TIC DOULOUREUX. See Neitralgia.
TICINO, or Tessin, a canton of Switzerland, ranking
as eighteenth in the Confederation, consists of the upper
basia of the river from -which it takes its name, — the Val
Leventina, with the tributary valleys of Blegno and Maggia
— and farther south takes in the districts of Lugano and
Mendrisio between Lakes Maggiore and Como. Its total
area is 1088*2 square miles, which is exceeded by only four
other Swiss cantons, — Graubiinden ^Orisons), Bern, Valaia,
and Vaud. Of this 725^8 square miles are classed as pro-
ductive, including 215*5' square miles covered by forests
and Sc* 8 by vines; of x the unproductive portion 24*3
square miles are occupied by lakes (most of that of
Lugano belonging to the canton) and 13*1 by glaciers.
The highest points in the canton are the Basodine (10,749
feet) in the aorth-west and the Valrhein (11,148 feet) in
the north-east comers. In 1880 the population was
130,777 (the females exceeding the males by 10,000,
doubtless owing to the emigi'ation of the latter), being
an increase of 11,158 on that of 1870 ; the increase was
particularly marked- in the Val Leventina and is due to
the influence of the St Gotthard Railway, which traverses
the entire canton. Of this population 129,409 speat
Italian ; 342 of the remainder form the German-speaking
hamlet of Bosco or Gurin in the Val Caverna (in north-
west)^ a colony from the neighbouring valley of Forraazza.
or Pommat, which is politically Italian. In . religion
130,017 are Roman Catholics. Until 1859 Ticino was
partly (Val Leventina, Val Blegno, and the Riviera) in the
metropolitan diocese of Milan, chiefly in that of Como, and
is still practically (though not legally) administered by
these two bishops, — all attempts made hitherto to incor-
porate them with the see of Chur or to secure the erectiott
of a special see for them having failed. The chief towns
are Lugano (6129 inhabitants), Airolo (0674), Mendrisio
(2749), Locarno (2645), and Bellinzona (2436). Formerly
Lugano, Locarno, and Bellinzona were the capital by turns
of six years each ; but since 1881 the seat of government
has been permanently fixed at Bellinzona. Ticino stands
in a comparatively low position as regards moral, educa-
tional, agricultural, and commercial matters. It has pro-
duced a number of sculptors, painters, and architects.
Many of the men migrate during the summer in search of"
work as picture-dealers, waiters in caf^s, chinmey-sweeps,
and especially as masons, plasterers, labourers, and navvies,
A large quantity of fruit is grown ; the chief articles ex-
ported are cattle, hay, fish, chestnuts, and earthenware.
In manners, customs, and general character the inhabitants
strongly resemble their Italian neighbours.
The canton is made up of all the permanent conquests (with one
or two trifling exceptions) made by difl'erent members of the Swiss
League south of the main chain of the Alps. Froin an historical
point of view Italian Switzerland falls into three groups: — (1>
Val Leventina, conquered by Uri in 1440 (previously held from;
1403 to 1426); (2) Bellinzona, the Riviera, and Val Blegno (held
from 1419 to 1426), won in 1500 from the duke of Milan by mea.
from Uri, Schwyz, and Nidwald, and confirmed by Louis XIL of
France in 1503 ; (3) Locarno, Val Maggia, Lugano, and Mendrimo^
seized in 1512 by the Confederates when fighting for the Holy-
League against France, ruled by the twelve members then in the-
League, and confirmed by Francis I. in the treaty of 1516. These-
districts were governed by bailifl"3 holding office two years and
purchasing it from the members of the League ; each member oT
group 3 sent annually an envoy, who conjointly constituted the-
supreme appeal in all matters. This government was very harsh,
and is one of the darkest pages in Swiss history. Yet only one open
revolt is recorded — that of the Leventina against Uri in 17S6. In-
1798 the people were distracted by the Swiss and ''Cisalpine re-
public" parties, but sided with the Swiss. On being freed from
their bated masters, they were formed into Uvo cantons of the
Helvetic repubUc — Bellinzona ( = 1 and 2 above) and Lugano ( = 3)-
In 1803 all these districts were formed into one canton — Ticino —
which became a full member of the Swiss Confederation. Front
1810 to 1813 it was occupied by the troops of Napoleon. The-
roads over the Bernardino (1819-23) and the St Gotthard (1820-30>
were made under the constitution of 1814. But many of the old
troubles reappeared and were only done away with by the consti-
tution of 23a July 1830, which (with subsequent modifications)
prevails at the present time. A legislative assembly (112 members)
chosen by direct election and an executive (5 members) chosen by
the legislature are its principal features. The "optional referen-
dum" (permitting the submission of any law to a popular vote if
asked for by a certain number of citizens) was adopted in 1883. lib
1848, on religious grounds and owing to fears as to customs duties,
the canton voted in the minority against the Federal constitutioa
of that year ; but in 1874,' though the people voted against the re-
vised constitution, the legislature adopted it, and the canton was
counted as one of the" majority. Since 1830 the local history of the
canton has been very disturbed owing to the fact that, though
Roman Catholicism is the state religion, and all the population are
Roman Catholic (the few Protestants having been expelled from
Locarno in 1555}| they are divided between the Radical and Ultra-
montane parties. Since 1876 the intervention of Federal troops
(already known m 1870) has been quite common in consequence
of conflicts of the local authorities itiUr se, or against the Federal
assembly.
See DcT Kanton Tetsin, by Stefano Franscini (St G&U, 1835).
TICK. See Mite.
TICKELL, Thomas (1686-1 740), English man of letters^
the son of a clergyman, was born at Bridekirk, near Car-
lisle, in 1686. After a good preliminary education he
352
T I C— T I C
■Kcni 10 Queen's College, Oxford, where in 1 70S he took
Jirs deKree, and of which college he was two years later
-■;l';cte<J tellow He did not take orders, but by a dispensa-
ih)n from th« crown was allowed to retain his fellowship
cntU his ojarriage in 1726. Asa poet Tickell displaj-ed
very mediocre qualities. His success in literature, as in
life, was oiamly due to the friendship and patronage of
Addison, who procured for hrni (1717) the under-secretary-
ship of state, to the chagrin of Steele, who thenceforth bore
Tickell no good will. During the peace negotiations with
France TickeU published the Prospect of Peace, which was
well spoken of in \.\ie Spectator anA reached a sixth edition.
In 1717 he brought out a translation of the first book of
the Hiad contemporaneously with Pope's version. Ken-
wiglon Gardens, his longest poem, which appeared in 1722,
is inflated and pedantic, and was doomed to oblivion from
its birth. Dr Johnson's criticism of it gives it its due meed
■of praise and blame. The most popular of TickelTs poeti-
•eal writings was the ballad of "Colin and Lucy," which
will bear comparison with some of the ballad poems of
Wordsworth. Whether from fear of Pope's rivalry or from
■unbiassed choice, Tickell abandoned the translation of the
Iliad and set about rendering the Odyssey and Lucan into
English In 1723 he was appointed secretary to the lords
justices of Ireland, — a post which he retained until his
death, which took place at Bath on 23d April 1740.
Tickell rose once above the level of mediocrity, when he
-wrote his elegy addressed to the earl of Warwick on the
•death of Addison. Posterity has endorsed Dr Johnson's
affirmation that this elegy is equal in sublimity and ele-
gance to any funeral poem which had theretofore appeared,
— and this notwithstanding Steele's caustic disparagement,
that it was only "prose in rhyme." TickeU also contributed
*o the Spectator and the Guardian
See "T. Tickell," in Johnson's Lives of the Poets', the Spectator ;
-&nder3on's English Poets ; Ward's English Poets
TICKNOR, George (1791-1871), historian of Spanish
literature, was born at Boston (Mass.), on 1st August 1791.
He received his early education from his father, Elisha
Ticknor, who, though at that time in business, had been
principal of the local Franklin public school and was the
•originator both of the system of free primary schools in
Boston and of the first New England savings-bank. He
studied at Dartnlouth College from 1805 to 1807, and on
leaving it was placed for nearly three years under Dr
Gardiner, a pupil of Dr Parr. In the autumn of 1810
Ticknor entered the office of a leading Massachusetts
Sawyer, and, though his studie.s appear to have been liter-
ary rather than legal, he was admitted to the bar in 1813.
He at once commenced practice ; but a year's experiment
convinced him that scholarship and letters would be more
congenial to his abilities. In the spring of 1815 he set sail
for England. Attractive in appearance, cultured, vivacious,
and sympathetic, he had won many influential friends in
America, and his introductions gave him access to most of
the men then worth knowing in Europe. He spent nearly
two years at Gottingen ; but he also visited the chief
towns on the Continent, meeting Prescott for the first timp
at Paris, and spending some months in Spain and Portugal,
the life and literatures of which had already strong attrac-
tions for him. ' Returning to America in the summer of
181%^ he was inducted in the August following to the
Smith professorship of French and Spanishjiterature and
to the college professorship of belles-lettres at Harvard.
The history and criticispi of Spanbh literature was in
many respects a new subject at that time even in Europe,
— ^the Spaniards themselves having no adequate treatment
of their literature as a whole, and both Bouterwek and
Sismondi having worked with scanty or second-hand re-
sources. To supply this want, therefore, be gave his most
serious thon^t, developing in his lectures the scheme «f
his more permanent "wort. In Jtme 1821 his father died,
and in September he married Anna, daughter of Samttel
Eliot, a merchant and founder of the chair of Greek
literature at Harvard College. In the years following
1821 Ticknor made a vain effort to introduce measures erf
umversity reform. The death of his only son in 183-1 and
the subsequent failure of his wife's health led him to
resign his post at Cambridge to Longfellow ; and in the
spring of 1835 he again went to Europe, where he re-
mained until 1838. From that time till his death ha
lived chiefly at Boston. Till 1849 he published only
occasional reviews and papers, such as his essays on
Moore's Anacreon, on Milton's Paradise Lost, and on
Thatcher's ;^e)TOc;re.», in 1812 ; on Michael Stiefel, in 1816 ;
on Griscom's Tour in Europe and on General La Fayette,
in 1824 ; on amusements in Spain and on changes in Har-
vard College, in 1825; on Chateaubriand, in 1827; on
Daniel Webster, in 1831 , and on the best mode of teach-
ing living languages, in 1832. His History of Spanish
Literature, the first editions of which appeared in New
York and London in 1849, was welcomed" on all hands
as the standard work on the subject, and was rapidly
translated into Spanish and other Continental languages.
Whatever its defects, it at least reduced to system and
clearness a large mass of varied historical material hitherto
only vaguely known ; and its copious references to authori-
ties and editions and its loving exploration of the byeways
of the literature made it as valuable to scholars as iu
direct and unpretentious style made it popular with general
readers. In many respects it was the admirable literary
complement of the historical work of Prescott. Like his,
the bent of Ticknor 's mind was expository rather than
critical ; and in both cases the standards applied were of
a conventional rather than of an advanced nature. As
with Prescott the glow of vivid narration often hides rather
than reveals the underlying problems of social and philo-
sophic import, so with Ticknor a certain fund of graceful
and genial commonplace is apt to gloss over the really vital
critical issues of the subject-matter. At crucial momenta
jn place of the keener edge of criticism one is apt to find
only the paper-knife intelligence of the ordinary book-lover.
The defect, however, was common to the' critical schools of
the time. The merits of the work in its accurate survey
of comparatively untrodden ground were individual and of
an exceedingly high order. Ticknor subsequently took
an active part in the establishment of the Bostofl public
library, in the interests of which he paid in 1856 another
visit to Europe, and to which he left at his death his fine
collection of Spanish and Portuguese works. In 1859, on
the death of Prescott, he at once began to collect materials
for a life of his friend, which was published in 1864. His
death took place at Boston on 26th January 1871.
A Life of Ticknor, with his letters and joumids, was edited by
George's. Hillard, Boston, 1876.
TICONDEROGA, a village and township of the United
States, in E^ex county. New York, situated upon th«
stream- connecting Lakes George and Champlain, and ex-
tending back upon an abrupt promontory which separates
the two lakes. Two railroads enter the village, — the
Delaware and Hudson and a branch of the Central 'Ver-
mont. The population in 1880 was 3304.
Commanding the direct route from the St Lawrence to the
Hudson, Ticonderoga was early seized by the French and fortified
under the name of Fort Carillon. Id July 1758 it was unsuccess-
fully attacked by Abercrombie. In the same month of the suc-
ceeding year it was abandoned by the French upon the approach
of an English army under Amherst, who occnpied it and greatly
strengthened its works. At the beginning of the Revolution, in
1775, the fort was surprised and captured by Ethan Allen and ■
party of Vermont militia. In 1778 it was retaken by the English
under Burgoyne and was held by them until the close of the war.
353
TIDES
I. Ox THE Natttre of Twra.
DcSdi-
tiOD.
-A'.rvo-
t-.lujic
■waur
50™ p«-
Van-
ability of
interval
after
moou's
t7a]i5iL
§ 1. Den nit ion of Tide.
TTTHEN, as occasionally happens, a ship in the open sea
YV meets a short succession o£ wa%'es of very unusual
magnitude, is-e hear of tidal waves ; and the large wave
caused by an earthquoie is commonly so described. The
use of the term " tide " in this connexion is certainly incor-
rect, but it has perhaps beep fostered by the fact that such
waves impress their records on automatic tide-gauges, as,
for example, when the wave due to the volcanic outbreak
at Rrakatoa was thus distinctly traceable in South Africa,
and .perhaps even faintly at Brest, We can only adequately
define a tide by reference to the cause which produces it.
A tide then is a rise and fall of the water of the sea pro-
duced by the attraction of the sun and moon. A rise and
fall of the sea produced by a regular alternation of day
and night breezes, by regular rainfall and evaporation, or
by any influence which the moon may have on the weather
cannot strictly be called a tide. Such alternations may,
it is true, be inextricably involved ■n'ith the rise and fall of
the true astronomical tide, but we shall here distinguish
them as meteorological tides. These movements are the
result of the action of the sun, as a radiating body, on the
earth. Tides in the atmosphere would be shown by a
regular rise and fall in the barometer, but such tides are
undoubtedly very minute, and we shall not discuss them in
this article, merely referring the reader to the Mkanique
Celeste of Laplace, bks, L and xiiL There are, however,
very strongly marked diurnal and semi-diurnal inequalities
of the barometer due to atmospheric meteorological tides.
Sir William Thom*)n in an interesting speculation ' shows
that the interaction of these quasi-tides with the sun is
that of a thermodynamic engine, whereby there is caused
a minute secular acceleration of the earth's rotation. This
matter is, however, beyond the scope of the present article.
We shall here extend the term " tide ", to denote an elastic
or "viscous periodic deformation of a solid or viscous globe
under the action of tide-generating forces. In the techni-
cal part of the article by the term "a simple tide" we
shall denote a spherical harmonic deformation of the water
on the surface of the globe, or of the solid, globe itself,
multiplied by a simple harmonic function of the time.
§ 2. General Descnplion of Tidal Phenomma."
If we live by the sea or on an estuary, we see that,the
water rises and falls nearly twice a day ; speaking more
exactly, the average interval from high water to high
water is about 12° 25™, so that the average retardation
from day to day is about 50™. The times of high water
are then found to bear an intimate relation with the moon's
position. Thus at Ipswich high water occurs when the
moon is nearly south, at London Bridge when it is south-
west, and at Bristol when it is east-south-eaSt. For a very
rou^h determination of the time of lughTvater it is suffi-
cient to add the solar time of high water on the days of
new and full moon (called the "establishment of the port")
to the time of the moon's passage over the meridian, either
visibly above or invisibly below the horizon. The interval
between the moon's passage over the meridian and high
water varies sensibly «-ith the moon's age. From new
moon to first quarter, and from full moon to third quarter
(or rather from and to a day later than each of these
phases), the interval diminishes from its average to a mini-
' Sociitu -de PLj-sique, September ISSl, or Proc. Jio'j. Soc. of
Ediiibimjh, 1881-82, p. 396.
' FouuJcd on Airj-'s " Tides aud Waves, " in Eiuij. Slclrop.
mum, and then increases again to the average ; and in the
other two quarters it increases from the average to a maxi-
mum, and then diminishes again to the average.
The range of the rise and fall of water is also subject
to great variability. On the days after new and full moon
the range of tide is at its maximum, and on the day after
the first andxhird quarter at its minimum. . The maximum
is called "spring tide " and the minimum " neap tide," and
the range of spring tide is usually between two and three
times as great as that of neap tide. At many ports, how-
ever, especially non-European ones, two successive high
waters are of unequal heights, and the law of variability of
the differehce is somewhat complex ; a statement of that
law will be easier when we come to consider tidal theories.
In considering any tide we find, especially in estuaries,
that the interval from high to low water is longer than
that from low to high water, and the difference between
the intervals is greater at spring than at neap.
In a river the current continues to run up stream for
some considerable time after high water is attained and
to run down similarly after low water. JIuch confusion
'has been occasioned by the indiscriminate use of the term
" tide " to denote a tidal current and a rise of water, and
it has often been incorrectly inferred that high water must
have been attained at the moment of cessation of the
upward current. The distincrion between " rising and
falling" and "flowing and ebbing" mast be carefully
maintained in rivers, whilst it vanishes at the seaboard.
If we examine the progress of the ride-wave up a river,
we find that high water occurs at the sea earlier than
higher up. If, for instance, on., a certain day it is high
water at Margate at noon, it is high water at Gravesend
at a quarter past two, and at London Bridge a few minutes
before three. The intervalfrom low to high water diminishes
also as we go up the river ; and at some distance up certain
rivers — as, for example, the Severn — the rising water
spreads over the flat-sands in a roaring surf and travels up
the river almost likea wall of water. This kind of sudden
rise is called a "Txjre." ^ jn other cases where the differ-
ence between the- periods of rising and falling is consider-
able, there are, in each high water, two or three rises and
falls. A double high water exists at Southampton.
"When an estuary -contracts considerably, the range of
tide becomes largely magnified as it narrows ; for example,
at the entrance of the Bristol Channel the range of spring
tides is about 18 ieet, -and at Chepstow about 50 feet.
This augmentation of the height of the tide-wave is due
to the concentration. of the energy of motion of a large
mass of water into- a narrow space. At oceanic ports the
tidal phenomena are much less marked, the range of tide
being usually only 2 or 3 feet, and the inter\-al from high
to low water sensibly equal to that from low to high ■n-ater.
The changes -from-spring to neap tide and the relation of
the time of high water to the moon's transit remain, how-
ever, the same as in the case of the river tides.
In long and narrow seas, such as the English Channel,
the tide in mid-channel follows the same law as at a station
near the mouth of a river, rising and falling in equal times;
the current nms in the direction analogous to up stream
for three hours before and after high watey, and down
stream for the same period before and after low water.
But near the sides of channels and near the mouths df
baj-s the changes of the currents are very complex ; and
near the headlands separating two bays there is usually at
certain times a verj"" swift current, termed a "race."
' See a series of paiwrs bearing on this kind of wave by Sir W.
Thomson, in I'ltU. ilaij., 1SS6-S7.
XXm. — 4 5
Spring
and
neap.
River
tide.
Distinc*
lion of
ri.se and
fall from
tlood aud
ebb.
Aug-
menta-
tion of
height iu
e&tuaricK,
Land-
locked
seas.
354
TIDES
In inland seas, such as the Mediterranean, the tide's are
nearly insensible except at the ends of long bays. 'Thus
at Malta the tides are not noticed by the ordinary observer,
whilst at Venice they are conspicuous. _ .
t\A\ The effect of a strong •ftdnd OQ. the height of tide is
generally supposed to be very marked, especially in estu-
aries. In the case of an exceptional gale, when thfewind
veered round appropriately, Airy states' that the water has
been knowu to depart from its predicted height at London
by as much as 5 feet. The effect of wind will certainly
be different at each port! The discrepancy of opinion on
this subject appears to be great, — so much so that we
liear of some observers concluding that the 'effect,' of the
'Atmo^ wind is insensible.'"' "Variations in barometric pressure also
«pherio , cause departures from the predicted height of water, high
yrewurt. i,arometer corresponding to decrease of height of water.
Roughly speaking, an inch of the mercury column- will
correspond to something less than a foot of water, , but
the effect seems to vary much at different ports.^j !
§ 3. Genei-al Ejyplanation of (he Cause of Tides.
^•°*' . Tho moon attracts every particle of the earth and ocean,"
uig'lorcosand by the law of gravittition the force acting on any par-
ticle is directed towards the moon's centre, and is jointly
proportional to the masses of the particle and of the moon,
'and inversely proportional to the square .of the distance
;between the particle and the moon's centre. • If we imagine
the earth and ocean subdivided into a numljer of small
portions or particles of equal mass, then the average, both
as to direction and intensity, of the forces acting on these
particles. is equal to the^orce acting on that particle which
is at the earth's centre./s.J'or there is symmetry about the
line joining the centres of the two bodies, and, if we divide
the earth into two portions by an ideal spherical surface
passing-through the earth's centre and having its cen,tre
at the moon, the portion remote from the moon is a little
lirger than the portion towards the moon, but the nearer
portion is under the action of forces which are a little
stronger than those acting on the further portion, and the
resultant of the weaker forces on tl^e larger portion is
exactly equal to the resultant of the stronger forces on the
smaller. If every particle of the earth and ocean were
ieing urged by equal and parallel forces, there would be
no cause for relative 'motion between the ocean and the'
earth.' Hence it is the departure of the force acting on
any particle from the average which constitutes the tide-
generating force.. Now it is obvious that on the side of
the earth' towards the moon the departure from the average
is a small force directed towards the moon; and ou the
side of the earth away, from the, moon the departure is a
small force directed away from the moon. , Also these two
departures are very nearly equal to one another, that on
[he near side being so little greater .than that on the other
that we may neglect the excess. All round the sides of
the earth along a great circle perpendicular to the line
joining the moon and earth, the departure is a force directed
Inwards towards the earth's centre^, . Thus we see that the
tidal forces tend to pull the water, towards and away fron^
the moon, and to depress the water at i-ight angles to that
direction. If we could neglect the rotations of the bodies,
and could consider the' system as at rest, we should find
that the. water was- ii equilibrium when elongated into a
prolate ellipsoid with its long axis directed towards and
away from the moon."^
Theory But it must not be assumed that this would be the case
cjf eqn.i- -vvhen there is motion. For, suppose that the ocean con-
^'"' J 0 ^'^'^ ^^ ^ canal round the equator, and that an earthquake
iirth. or ?iny other cause were to generate a great wave in the
canal, this wave would travel along it with a velocity de-
y Airy, " Tiilc3 aud "Waves."
Airy, op. ci"(., §§ 572-573.,_
pendent on the depth."' 'If the canal were,about 13 miles
deep,- the velocity of the wave would be about 1000 miles
an hour, and with depth about equal to the depth of our
seas the velocity of the "wave would be about half as great.
We may conceive the moon's tide-generating force as
making a wave in the canal and continually outstripping
the wave "it generates, for the moon' travels' along the
equator at the rate of about 1000 miles an hour, and the
sea is less than 13 miles deep. ' The resultant oscillation
of the ocean must therefore be the summation of a serie?
of partial .^vaves generated at each instant by the mooii
and always falling behind her, and the* aggregate wave,
being the same at each instant, must travel 1000 miles an
hour so as to keep up with the moon.
Now it is a general law of frictionless^oscillation that,
if a. slowly varying periodic force acts on a system which
would oscillate .quickly if left to itself, the maximum ex-
cursion on one side of the equilibrium position occurs
simultaneously .with the maximum force in the direction
of the excursion ; but,' if a quickly varying periodic force
acts on a system which would oscillate slowly if left tc
itself, the maximum excursion on one side of the equili'
brium position" occurs simultaneously with the maximum
force in the direction opposite to that of the excursion.
An example of the first is a ball hanging by a short string,
wliich we push slowly' to and fro ; the ball will never quit
contact with the hand, and will agree "with its excursiona,'
If, however, the ball is- hanging by a long string we can
play at battledore and shuttlecock with it, and it always
meets our blows! 'The latter is the analogue of the tides,
for a free* "wave in our shallow canal goes' slowly, whilst
the moon's tide-generating action goes quickly. Hence, Tidetmi
'when the system is left to .settle into steady oscillation, it verted,
is low water under and opposite to the moon, whilst the
forces are such as to make it high water at those times.
' If we consider the moon as revolving round the earth,
the water assumes nearly the shape of an oblate spheroid
with. the minor axis pointed to the moon. The rotation
of the earth in the actual case introduces a complexity
which it is not easy to unravel by general reasoning. We
can see, however, that if water moves from a lo"wer to a
higher latitude it arrives at the higher ktitude with' more
velocity from west to east than is appropriate to its lati-
tude, and it will move accordingly on the earth's surface-
Following put this conception, we see that an oscillation
of the water to and fro between south and north must be
accompanied by an eddy. Laplace's solution of the diffi-
cult problem involved in working out thi^' idea "will bfr
given below.
The conclusftm at which we have arrived about the tide^
of an equatorial canal is probably more nearly true of the
tides of a globe partially covered with land than if wt
■were to suppose the ocean at each moment to fissume the
prolate figure of equilibrium.- ,; In fact, observation show^
that it is more nearly low water than high water when
the moon is on the nieridian. If -we consider ■ how the
oscillation of the watPr would appear to an observer ca,rried '
round "with the earth, we see that he will have low "water
twice in the lunar day, somewhere about the time ■\(i'hei^
the moon is on the meridian, either above or belo"vv . the
horizon, and high water half way between the lo"W water.^.'
If the suuibe now introduced, v:e have another similar Suii'aiu-
tide of about half the"' height, and this depends on solair- """'"'"■
time, giving low water somewhere about ' noon and mid-
night. The superposition of the two," modified by fric'tiow
and by the interference of land, gives the actually observed
aggregate tide, and_ it.is clear that about, new and full
moon we must have spring tides and at 'quarter moons
neap tides, and that (the sum of the lunar and solar tide-
generating forces being about three timps..thejr difference.
TIDES
355
Iha ran^a of fpimg tide will be about three timas that
I't neap tide.
Diunul So far we have supjiosed the luminaries to more on the
!idf» eqiutor ; now let us consider the case where the moon is
lint on the equator. It is clear iji this case that at any
|)hce the moon's zenith distance at the upper transit is
jlifierent from her nadir distance at the lower transit.
Cut the tide-generating force is greater the smaller the
jtenltli or nadir distance, and therefore the forces are
ditferent at successive transits. This was not the case
when the moon was deemed to move on the equator.
(Thus there is a tendency for two successive lunar tides to
W of unequal heights, and the , resulting inequality .of
height is called a "diurnal tide." ^ This tendency vanishes
when the moon is on the equator; and, as this occurs each
fortnight, the lunar diurnal tide is evanescent once a fort-
night. Similarly in summer and winter the successive
solar tides are generally of unequal height, whilst in spring
tnd autumn this difference ig inconspicuous.'.^ ___
t»«ji«<. ^ One of the most remarkable conclusions of Laplace's
**" '",>/ '''^°T of the tides, on a globe covered with ocean to a
■mlforni ""'fo''"! depth, is that tile diurnal tide is everywhere non-
.leoifc existent. But this hypothesis differs much from the reality,
.and in fact at some portH the diurnal tide is so large that
during two ))ortions of each lunation there is only one
creat high water and one great low water in each twenty-
four hours, whilst in other parts of the lunation the usual
iemi diurnal tide is observed.
%4. Iliifarical SketefiS.
In 1687 Newton laid the foundation for all that has
•ince been added to the theory of the tides when he
brought his grand generalization of universal gravitation
Ksplor to bear on the subject. Kepler had indeed at an earlier
date recognized the tendency of the water of > the ocean to
^move towards the centres of the suu and moon, but he.
j^-as unable to submit his theory to calculation. Galileo
expresses his regret that so acute a man as Kepler should
have produced a theory which appeared to him to rein-
troduce the occult qualities of the ancient philosophers.
His own explanation referred the phenomenon to the rota-
tion and orbital motion of the earth, and he considered that
it^alTorded a principal proof of the Copernican system.
f.euiwi. ,In the 19th corollary of the 66th proiio-sition of book i.
of the Principia, Newton introduces the conception of a
canal circling the earth, and he considers the inlluenc« of
a satellite on the water in the canal. He reiuarkB that
the movement of each molecule of fluid must be accelerated
in the conjunction and opposition of the .satellite with the
molecule, and retarded in the quadratures, so that the
fluid, must undergo a tidal oscillation. It i.s, however, in
propositions 26 and 27 of book iii. that he first deter-
mines the tidal force due to the sun and moon. The sea
is here supposed to cover the whole earth, and ■to assume
at each instant a figure of equilibrium, and the tide-gener-
ating bodies are sujiposed to move in the .equator. Con-
sidering only the action of" tlie sun, he assumes that the
figure is an ellipsoid of revolution with its major axis
directed towards the sun, and he determines the ellipticity
of such an ellipsoid. High solar tide then occurs at noon
and midnight, and low tide at sunrise and sunset. The
action of the moon produces a sin>ilar ellipsoid, but of
greater ellipticity. ' The superposition of these ellipsoids
gives the principal variations of tide. He then proceeds
to consider the .influence of latitude on the height of
tide, and to discuss other peculiarities of the phenomenon.
Observation shows, however, that spring tides occur a day
and a half after syzj-gies, and Newton falsely attributed
' FoanJed on Laplace, Micuniqw Celeste, bk. xiii. cli.ip. i._
this -to the fact that the oscillations would last for some
time if the attractions of the two bodies were to cease.
The Newtonian hypothesis, although it fails in the form''
which he gave to it, may still be made to ref)rcsent the " A.sir<-«
tides, if the lunar and. solar ellipsoids have their major fic'ifs-'"
axes always directed towards a fictitious moon'and sun.t
which are respectively at constant distances from the true
bodies; these distances are such that the syzygies of the
fictitious planets occur about a day or a day and a hall
later than the true sj'zygies. In fact^ the actual tides may
be supposed to be generated directly by the action of the
real sun and moon, and the wave may be imagined to take
a day and a half to arrive at the port of observation.^
This period has accordingly been 'called "the age of the Aoeot
tide." In what precedes the planets have been supposed to ti'l"-
move in the equator ; but the theory of the two ellipsoids
cannot be reconciled ■with the truth when they move in
orbits inclined to the equator. At equatorial ports the
theory of the ellipsoids would at spring tides give morn-
ing and evening high waters of nearly equal height, vliat-
'ever the declinations of the bodies. But at a port in any
other latitude these high waters would be of very difl'creiU
heights', and at Brest, for example, when the declinations
of the bodies are equal to the obliquity of the elliiitic, tho
evening tide would be eight times as great as the morning
tide. Now observation shows that at this \)o\t the two
tides are nearly equal to one another, and that their
greatest difference is not a thirtieth of their sum.
• Newton here also offered an erroneous explanation'of
the phenomenon. In fact, we shall see that by Laplace's
dynamical theory the diurnal tide is evanescent when tho
ocean is of uniform depth over the earth. At many non-;
European ports, however, the diurnal tide is very important;
and thus as an actual means of prediction the dynamical
theory, where the ocean is treated as of uniform depth,
may be hardly better than tho equilibrium theory.
In 1738 the Academy of Sciences of Paris offered, as a U Ccm-
subject for , a pri/.c, the theory of the tides. ''The authors <"'""""'
of lour essays received prizes, viz., Daniel Bernoulli, Eulcr, '"'"^''^
Maclaurin, and Cavalleri. Tiie first three adopted not only
the theory of gravitation but also Newton's method of tho
superposition of the two ellipsoids. ..Bernoulli's essay
contained an extended development of the conception oi
the two ellipsoids, and, under the name of the equilibrium
theory, it is commonly associated with his name. Laplace
gives an account 'and critique of the essays Of Bernoulli
and Euler in the Micnnvjue Celeste. The essay of Mac-
laurin presented little that -was new in tidal theory, but
is notable as containing thosT theorems concerning the
attraction of ellipsoids which we now know by his name.
In 1746 D'Alembert wrote a paper in which he treated
the tides of the atmosphere; but this work, like Maclaurin's,
is chiefly remarkable for the importance of collateral points.
The theory of the tidal movements of an ocean was LaplaceL.
therefore, as Laplace remarks, almost untouched when in
1774 he first undertook the subject. ' In the Jfecaniqut
Celeste he gives an interestirig account of the manner in
which he was led to attack the problem. We shall give
below the investigation of the tides of an ocean covering
the whole earth ; the theory is substantially Laplace's,
although presented in a somewhat different form. This
theory, although very wide, is far from representing the
tides of our ports. Observation shows, in fact, that the
irregular distribution of land and water and the variable
depth of the ocean produce an irregularity in the oscilla-
tions of the sea of such complexity that the rigo'rous solu-
tion of the problem is altogether beyond the power ot
analysis.N Laplace, however, rested his discussion of tidal
observation on this principle — The state of Oscillation of a
system of bodies in which the primitive conditions of move-
356
TIDES
^rincijile
of forced
ition^.
Lubbock,
AV'hewell,
arnl Airy.
T.iblio
^grnpliy
Ti,k
genei
.itin;
force*
tnent have disappeared Uirough frkiion is coperiodic with
the forces acting on the system. Hence, if the sea is solicited
by a periodic force expressed as a coefficient multiplied by
the cosine of an angle which increases proportionately with
the time, there results a partial tifle, also expressed by the
cosine of an angle which increases at the same rate ; but
the phase of the ^gle and the coefficient of the cosine in
the expression for -the height may be very different from
those occurring in the corresponding term of the equilibrium
theory The coefficients and the constants or epochs of the
ingles in the expressions for the tide are only derivable
fro'n, observation. The action of the sun and moon is ex-
piessible in a converging series. of similar cosines ; whence
there arise as many partial tides, which by the principle
of superposition may be added together to give the total
tide at any port. In order to unite the several" constants
of the partial tides Laplace considers each tide as being
produced by a fictitious satellite moving uniformly on the
equator. Sir W. Thomson and others have followed La-
place in this conception ; but in the present article we
shall not do so. The difference of treatment is in reality
only a matter of phraseology, and the proper motion of
each one of Lajilace's astres Jictifs is at once derivable from
the argument (or angle under the sign of cosine), which
we .shall liere associate with the partial tides.
Subsequently to Laplace the most important workers in
this field were Sir John Lubbock (senior), Whewell, and
Airy! The work of Lubbock and Whewell (see § 34 below)
is chiefly remarkable for the coordination and analysis of
enormous masses of data at various ports, and the con-
struction of trustworthy tide-tables and of cotidal maps.
Airy contributed an imjiortant re.view of the whole tidal
theory. He also studied profoundly the theory of waves
in canals, and explained the effects of frictional resistances
)n the progress of tidal and other waves. Of other authors
whose work is of great importance we shall sjjcak below.
Amongst all the grand work which has been bestowed
on this difficult subject, Newton, notwithstanding his errors,
stands out first, and next to him we must rank Laplace.
However original any future contribution to the science of
the tidts may f.e, it would seem as though it must perforce
be basud on the work of these two.
A complete list of works bearing on the theory of the
tides, from the time of Ne'.vton down to 1881, is contained
ill vol li of the /til-/ioi/rap/ue de I'Astronomie by Houzeau
and bincxsicr (Brussels, 1882). This list does not con-
i.iin pn|icrs on the tides of jiarticular ports, and we are
not aw.trc of the existence of any catalogue of works on
Vraclical ob-M-rvation, reduction of observations, prediction,
till tidal instrument!). References are, however, given
^Nilow lo iteveral work» on these points.
II TlDE'RENERATINR FORCES.
1 1 /..ir*. •(''''»" of Till' grirraiing PoterUiafand Forces.
\\f invr aln.i'ty jjivi-n a ^♦■n^rnl n^planation of the nature of
lid** pi-fii riiMix fon <* . wr ?iow I'liw (.»;d to a n>^rous invcsti^lion.
If .1 pUiii-t I* uMi imIuI Uy ti sin;;lf satellite, the motion of any
Vxvly rrlaiivi'ly !•• ihf ifluTn-t s sulfate la found by the process
dcsriilwil an r<ilu'ifig tne plaiirt's rentrc to rest The planet's
cciiii' Mill tk* itt ri-st if every ho.ly in the system has impressed
on it H v*>Infity Hi'ial and opfMistip to iliat of the planet's centre ;
■D(J tills i» %i-<oiii|>I)hIh^I hy iinnrasbin;; on rvery lioily an accelera-
lion .-'|>i;tl aoH opjMisite to that <if llic planel'tt centli*.
Let Af, m If. tite ma&M'.s of th«i planet and thi? satellite; r the
rKdius vfi-Utr iif the nateljite. iiteasui%d from the planet's centre ; p
thi ratloiK vector, measured from the same point, of the particle
whow tiMilion wr wislt t .determine , and : tin- an«Ie l>etwecn r and
p Tin Hatf-ljit* niiivis in an rlliptir oiiiiT aUnil the planet, and
the a< r^i'h T.ttirtn r< laliv.lv lo Ihc phtin-tH centre of the satellite is
(Af * ni\/r- low:MtU tlir ptmo'l alon;» Ihf rlulins vector T Now the
centri- oi •iieiiijol ff,i pbiiii :ii,d salcllite rentains fixed in sijftce,
ftnil tlif i-t nlntof Ih. pi. in. I .t.^^rilM-s an ofhit roui^that centre of
ineitiu Minil'ir lo that di-x mImmI hy the satellite round the planet,
but with lin«»i diiiteiiMiona reduixd in the j>ro]K>rtion of m to ^f+ in.
Hence the acceleration ui tlic planet's centre isr m/r- towards'l'hc*
centre of inertia of the tv.-o bodies. Thus, in order to reduce the
planet's centre to vest, wc a)iply to every rwrticle of the system ^
acceleration ?«/r^ parallel to r, and directed from satellite to planet'
Now take a set of rectangiil.ir axes fixed in the planet," and let
M,r, M^r, Mjj- be the coordinates of the satellite rejerred thereto 5
and let (p, -rip, fp be the coordinates of the particle P whose radius
is p. Then the component accelerations for reducing the planet's
centre to rest are -mMi/r*, -7nM«/r-, - TuMg/r'"; and since the»
are the diiferential coefficients with respect to pf, f), pf of the
function "iP/i« .. If 1L1 «
j/CMj^ + M.^i + Mji-),
and since cos : = M,{ -i- M ji) + Mjf, it follows that the potential oi:
the forces by wliich the planet's centre is to be reduced to rest is^
Now let .us consider the other forces acting on the particle. The
Slanet is spheroidal, and therefore does not attract equally in at
irections ; but in this investigation we may make abstmction qI
the ellipticity of the planet and of the ellipticity of the ocean due
to the planetary rotation. This, which wc set aside, is considered
in the theories of gravity and of the figures of pl.anets. Outsida|
of its body, then, the planet contributes forces of which thepoten^'
tial is M/p> Next the direct attraction of the satellite contributes
forces of which the potential is the mass of the satellite divide^
by the distance between the point P and the satellite ; this is —
V(''^ + P'-2'Y>cos:l
To determine the forces from this potential wo regard p and j k,
the variables for differentiation, and we may add to this potential
any constant we please. As we are seeking to find the forces whic'a
urge P relatively to Af, we add such a constant as will make the
whole potential at the planet's centre zero, and thus \ye take as the
potential of the forces due to the attraction of the satellite — »
V {r' + p' - 2'p cos :) r
It U obvious that r is very large compared with p, and Wo^maj
therefore expand this in powers of p/r. This expansion gives ua
in I
;^t+^?ii + 3A+&c.
^•}
Potfiu'.iaX
where Pi-cosz, 7*5=5 cos'r-J, Pj=|cos'2-^ cos i, fee- 'Tht
reader famili.ar with spherical harmonic analysis of course reco;;
nizes the Legendre's functions ; but the result for a few terms, whicl
is all that is necessary, is easily obtainable by simple algebra.
Now, collecting together the various contributions to the potential,
and noticing that —•-/', = --j cos i, and is therefore ciiual and oppo
site to tho potential by which the planet's centre was redaccd to
rest, we have as "the potential, of the forces acting, on a partie'a'
whose coordinates ore pi, pri, pf
- + -^(icos's-i)+-^(Scos»:-|cos;) + - (1).
The first term of (1) is the potential of gravity, and the terms o<
the series, of which two only are written, constitute the tide-gener-
ating potential. In all practical apnlications this scries convcr^ges
so rapidly that the first term is amjiiy suliicicnt, and thus we shal"-
generally, denote
F='p>Hco.^z-i) ..,. :■:■■
as the tide-generating potential.
In many mathematical works the tide-generating force is pre- Moon
sented as being due to an artificial statical system, wliirli produces and aou
nearly the same force as the dynamical .*;ystcm considciou aliove. moon
This statical system is as follows. Slopjiing all the rotations, n'«
divide the satellite into two equal jiarts, anil jilace thcin dianietri
cally opposite to one another in the orbit. 'I'licn it is clear thai
instead of the term
we have
%y {7^ + p- - 2rp cos r} tlL
hm
■^{r' + p'-2rpcosz\
And this reduces to
^■^ir' + p' + irpcas:) "r
The first term is tho same as before ; hence the itnlical systeW
produces approximately the same title generating force as the true
system. The "moon" and "anti-moon," however, pioihire rigor*'
ously the same force on each side of tho iilanct, vlicrcua lIic true
system only satisfies this condition approxim.ately.*
* The reader may refer to Thomson and Tait's Natural PhUosopkp
(1883), part li. §§ 798-821. for further considerations on this attit
analogous subjects, together with some nitcrestuig ei.^nu)les.j
TIDES
357
§ G. Form of EipiilibriuiA.
Let us consiilpr the shape assnined by a layer of fliiiil of density
», lying on a globe of mass if, when acted on by Uisturbing forces
vhosc i<otential is j,-_3"'.o/
r=|py(cos-'5-j).
..(3).
Suppose the layer to bo very thin, and that the mean itiJius of the
layer is a, and let the cq^uation to the boundary of the liuid be
p=a(l + e(co3';-J)] (4).
Wo assume this form, because the theory of harmonic analysis tells
HE tli.1t the departure from sphericity must be represented by a
fcinction of the form cos-:- \. -That theory also gives us as the
potential of a layer of matter of depth ca(co3- 5 - J), and density r,
al an external point the value
tTffo-^-yc(co3»5-S).
Mence the whole potential, outside of and up to the fluid layer, is
f +|^r(cos?=- }) + |r<ra'(2) t(co5'z- }) (5).
' \ ne nrst term of (5) is the potential of the globe, the second that
flf the disturbing force, and the third the potential duo to departure
from sphericity.
Now the fluid must stand in a level surface ; hence, if we equate
this potential to a constant, we must get back to the equation (4);
which was assumed to be tliat of the surface. In other words, if
we put />=rt[l + t(cos'''s- J)]'in (5), the result must be constant,
provided the departure from sphericity is small In effecting the
substitution for p, we may put p^a in the small terms, but in the
fiist term of (5) wo pnt
J=^[I-t(co3=:-S)].
The whole potenti.-vl (5) can only.be constant if, after this snbstitti-
tioD, the coefficient of cos- z - J vanishes. Thus we must have
Birt if i b« thamean density of the planet M=\TaH, ,and gitvity
g = a jo}. Then we easily find that
Zma I
Form ef
fqaul-
bnom.
'~2yH>l-i<r/«
Tbos tbe-eqaation to the surface is
..{6).
C 3w(i 1 , , ,^'\
■a).
If »• be small compared with 5, the coefficient is Zinaftgr* ; thus we
see that 1/(1 -fff/5) is the coefRcient by which the mutual attrac-
tion of the fluid augments the deformation of the fluid under the
action of the disturbing force. If the density of the fluid be the
same as that of the sphere, the augmenting factor becomes 4, and
we have t=^wlg^', which gives the forin of equilibrium of a fluid
sphere tmder the action of these forces. Since n~j= ( ^ " Ss )^'
it follows that, when the form of equilibrinm ia />= o[.I + Kcos'a - J)],
t^ potential of the forces is
. '^=!0-|^)"''('=-'-i) w.
More generally, if wc neglect the attraction of the fluid on itself,
£0 that <r/5 is treated as small, and if p=a(l + !J be the equation to
the surface of the fluid, where * is a functisn of latitude and longi-
tude, then the potential of the forces jjnder which thiaia an equi-
librium form is
F=?^, (0),
Tide- It thus appears that we may specify any tide-generating forces by
general- rneans of the figure of equilibrium w;hich the fluid would assume
ing force under them, and in the theory of tho tides it has been found prac-
specified tically convenient to specify the forces in this way.
by equi- By means of the principle of " forced vibrations" referred to in
libHom the historical sketch, we shall pass from tlie equilibrium form to
form. the actual oscillations of the sea.
§ 7. Development of. Tick-generating Poieniinl in Terms of
Hour-Angle and Declination.
Develop- - - We now proceed to develop the tide-generating potential, and
ment ol shall of course implicitly (§ 6) determine the equation to the equili-
lide-gen- brium "figure.
crating We have already seen that, if s be the moon's zenith distance at
". 'uStiaL the point P on the. earth's surface, whose coordinates referred to-
A, B, C, axes filtcd in the earth, are of, art, a^, then"
cos ^=|l^,■^1)M2■^f jij,
•here M,, ■ J[„, M3 are'lhe moon's direction- cosines referred ta the
-Bxii axes. Then with this value of cos i —
23 3
The axis of C is taken as the iwlar axis, and AB is the equatorial
plane, so that the functions off, 5;, fare functions of tlie latitude
and longitude of the point P, at which we wish to find the potential.
Tho functions of M^, Mo, Af, depend on the moon's position, and
we shall have occasion to develop tliem in two different ways, —
liret in terms of her hour-angle and declination, and secondly (§
23) in terms of her longitude and the elements of the orbit.
Now let A be on the equator in the meridi.in of P, and B 90°
Hast of A on the equator. Then, if M be the moon, the inclination of
ho plane JIC to the plane CA is the moon's eastei ly local hour-angle.
Let A = local hour-angle of moon and 5=moon'3 declination: wft
have
M,=cos5cosA, M2=co55sinA, M3=sin5,
wheno^
2M,M;=co3'Jsin 2h, Mi'-Mj^ =cos-Scos2h,
. ail.IJj - 2 sin J cos 6 sin A, 2 M'lM, = 2 sin 5 cos J cos A,
-J ^ 2. = i-siu=5.
Also, if X be the latitude of P,
J = cos X, i;=0, f=sin X,
and
fl=0.i^'=Jcos»X, |f=Jsin2X, f,=0,
* J(f'-l-i)=-2i-») = 4-sin'.X.
Henca (10) becomes
cos'-' s - i = i cos' X cos' S cos 2A -1- sin 2X sin 6 cos 8 cos h
-t-^(i-sin'«)(J-sin'A) (11).
The angle A, as defined at present, is the eastward local hour-angle^,
and therefore diminishes with the time. As, however, this function
does not change sign with A, it will be more convenient to regard
it as the westward, local hour-angle. Also, if h^ be the Greenwich
westward hour-angle at the moment under consideration, an(l I bo
the west longitude of tho place of observation P, we have
h = ha-l (i2).
Hence we have at the point P, whose radius vector is o,'
V= -^-^ {J cos' X c6s' J c«s 2(A|, - /) ■^ sin 2X sin J cos 6 cos (A, - 1)
•^'^ -fJCJ-sin^ajCJ-sin'X)} , (13). Poteo'.iaE
The tide-generating forces are found by the rates of valiation of ^devel-
for latitude and longitude, and also for radius a, if we care to find "1*° '"
the radial disturbing force. ''°"r .
^ angle anix.
decliua-
§ 8. Evalitaiion of Tide-generating Forces, and Lunar Deflexiwi tion.
of Gravity.
The westward component of the tide-genirating force at the earth's
surface, where p — a, 13 dV[a cos Xrf/, and the northward component
\zdVlad\\ the change of apparent level is the ratio of these to
gravity g. Therefore, differentiating (13), changing signs, and
writing jT-^- 1 for j— 3, we have component change of level south-
ward
eos^z- 4,=_2i5M,Mj-h 2^^ '^^''-
...aoi.
= tS^- Y {sin 2X cos* J cos 2{\ - /) - 2 cos 2X sin 2 J coa (A, - 0
*^^^' •l-sin2X(l-3sin=«)l;
"component change of level westward
Lunar
deflexioik
ofgravlty
Sm/oX
2M\r/ -fsinXsin25sin(Ao-Z)} (l^)** ■
TheWestward component is made up of two periodic terms, one going
through its vaiiations twice and the other once a day. The south-
ward component has -also two similar terms ; but it has a third
term, which <loe3 not oscillate about a zero value. . If A be a de-
clination such ; that the mean value of sin' 5 is equal to sin' A,
then, to determine the southward component so-that it shall be
a truly"periodic function, we mnst ., subtract from the abovo
■ sin 2X( 1 - 3 sin' A), and the last term then besomes
3sin2X(sin'A-sin'a).
In the case of the moon, A varies a little accordi"ng to the position
of the moon's node, but its mean value is about 16° 31'.
Jhe constant portion of the southward component of force has
its efl"ect in causing a constant heaping up of the water at tho
equator ; or, in other words, the moon's attraction'has the effect of
causing asmall permanent ellipticity of the earth's mean figure.
This augmentation of ellipticity is of course very small, but it is
necessary to mention it in order that the meaning'to be attributed
to Innar deflexion of gravity may be clearly defined.
If we consider the motion of a pendulum-bob during any one day.
we see that, in consequence of fhe semi-diurnal changes of level, it
twice describes an ellipse with major axis east and west, with ratio
of axes equal to the sine of the latitude, and with linear dimensions
proportional to cos' 5, and it once describes an ellipse whose north
and south axis is proportional to sin 25 cos 2X and whose ca't and
358
TIDES
ivest axis is proportional to sin 25 sin \. Obviously the latter is
;irculav in latitude 30°. When the moon is on t!ie equator, the
iiaximum deflexion occui's when the moon's local hour-angle is 45^
tnd is then equal Uj
At Cambridge in latitude fia" 43' this angle is 0"0216
An attempt, made by George and Horace Darwin," to measure
the lunar deflexion of a pendulum failed on account of incessant
vaiiability of level occurring in the supports of the pendulum
and arising from unknown terrestrial changes. The work done,
tliorefore, was of no avail for the purposes for which it was instituted,
tiut remained as a contribution to an interesting subject now be-
ginning to be studied, viz., the small changes which are always
taking place on the nppcr strata of the eartli.
§ 9 Correction to Eqxiilibrium Theory/or Continents.
In the equilibrium theory as worked out by Newton and Ber-
noulli it is assumed that the figure of the ocean is at each instant
one of equilibrium under the action of gravity and of the tide-
generating forces. Sir \V. Thomson has, however, reasserted ° a
point which was known to Bernoulli, but has since been overlooked,
namely, that tliis law of rise and fall of water cannot, when por-
tions of the globe are continents, be satisfied by a constant volume
of water in the ocean. The law would still hold if wnter were
appropriately supplied to and exhausted from the ocean , and. if in
any configuration of the tide-generating body we imagine water to
be instanuneously so supplied or exhausted, the level will every-
where rise or fall by the same height. Now the amount of that
rise or fall depends on the position of the tide-generating body
with reference to the continents, and is ditferent for each such
position. Convei'sely, when the volume of the ocean remains con-
stant, we have to correct Bernoulli's simple equilibrium theory by
an amount which is constant all over the globe at any instant, but
wliich changes in time Thomson's solution of this problem has
since been reduced to a form which is easier to grasp intelligently
tlian in the sliaf* in which he gave it, and the results have also
been reduced to numbere.' It appears that there arc four points
on the earth's suiiace at which in the corrected theory the semi-
diurnal tide is evanescent, and four others where it is doubled. A
similar statement holds for the diurnal tide. As to the tides of
long ]>criod, there are two parallels of latitude of evanescent and
two of doubled tide.
Now in Bernoulli's theory the scrai-diumal tide vanishes at the
IKiIcs, the diurnal tide at the poles and the equator, and the tides
of long period in latitudes 35° 16' north and south. The numerical
solution of the corrected theory shows that the points and lines of
doubling and evanescence in every case fall close to the points and
lin«s wliere m the uncori'ected theory there is evanescence. When
in passing iiom the uncorrected to the corrected theory we speak of
a doubled tide, the tide doubled may be itself ml, so that the result
may srill I»c nd. The condnj^ion, there'forc, is that Thomson's cor-
rection, i-ltliou"h theoretically interesting, is practically so small
that it may be loft out of consideration.
III. DvSA.MiOALTHr.ORT ofTide-s. ,
§ 10. HisloTical JSxplanation.
The problem of tidal oscillation is cs.spntially a dynamical one.
Even when the ocean is taken as covering the whole earth, it pre-
sents formidable ditficultiCi, and this js the' only case in which it
has been hitherto solved * Laplace gives the solution in bks. i-
and iv of the MicaniqM Celeste \ but his work is unnecessarily
complicated by the inappropriate introduction of spherical hai monic
analysis', and it is generally admitted that his investigation is
diflicult. Airy, in his "Tides and Waves" (in Enry Melrop )
presents the solution free from that complication, but be has made
a criticism of Laplace's method which we believe to be wrong.
Sir W Thomson has written some interesting [xipcrs (io Phil, filog ,
1875) in justihcalion of Laplace, and on these wo base the following
paragrafilis Tins portion of the article is given more fully than
others, because there exists no complete presentment of the theory
free from obja tions of some kind.
§ 1 1 EqueUions of Motion.
iEqua Let r, 0, tf> be the radius vector, co-latitude, and cast longitude of
'lions of a point vviih reference to an origin, a polar axis, and a Lero-mcridiun
emotion jotating with a uniform augular velocity u from west to east. Then,
if/.', J/, Z be the radial, co-latitudinal, and longitudinal accelerations
of the point, we have
I Hi-ports to Ihr. tlritUh Assoc., 18S1 rVork)aiic] 1R82 (Southampton).
» Tli'im-iim anJ Tait, NaJl. Phit., § «07.
3 IMrwin Kinl Tiirricl. Prnc. H<iy Soc., 1886.
< 6h W TlioHi-iOtrii pap«i "On the GruvitAtional Oscillations of Rotating
WnUT," in t'hit. Miuj., AuuuHt IHRO. b(*Hi:s (in tho same subject. It is the only
nilt-iii|,t whirh li;is hithorto been !ii;nlc Ut cooaiilcr the erTects of the earth's
lOitt'Ou on the oaCiUaTioiiii of lanri-locVeO sois.
_ d'r Jdd\- n„/d<t> \'=
1 d/ „dO\ „ ./rf* V-
= - J I r- -, I - r sin 9 cos 61 -ft")
rdt\ dtl \dl ^ J
1
rs.\nedt\_ \dl )S
iT,.
(IS).
= ^ , a very small qoaatity ,
'Ill
rf-j
(16).
Com-
poocnt
aci-elera-
lion.s.
Now suppose that the point never moves far from a zero positioi,
aud that its displacements {, Tjsin^ co latitudinally and longi-
tudinally are Very large compared with its radial dispiaceuient p,
aud that the velocities are so small that their squares and products
are negligible compared with wV' , then we have
dr _ds>
dl
d^
di.
d«
■"dl
Hence (15) is approximately
7;= -iiVsin'fl
S = , „ - 2« slnv vu^ •/ J-,
at" dt
at- al )
With regard to the fii^t equation of (16), we observe that the tifiia
has disappeared, and that ]t has exactly the same form as if th«
system were rendered statical by introducing a potential Jn-r%in'*
and aniinlling the rotation of the axes. Since inertia pkys D«
sensible part radially, it follows that, if we apply these txprcssiona
to the formation of equations of motion for the ocean, tne radial
motion need not be coiLsidercd. We are left, therefore, with only
the last two equations of (16).
We now have to consider the forces by which an element of th« Com-
occan IS urged in the dirccliou of co latitude and longitude. These ponent
forces arc those due to the external disturbing forces and to the force*
pressure of the surrounding lluid, the attraction of the fluid on
itself being supixiscd negligible. We have seen in (9) timt, if
fluid on a sphere of radius ii bo under the action of disturbing force*
whose potential is Ur', and if r =a -f tj be the cipiation to the sur-
face, then must yl)= Cti' Hence, if c be the equilibrium height of
tide, the potential of the disluibing force is gcr'/a^ But, if tbt
elevation dc (j, the potential under which it would be in equili-
brium is g\)r'/a,''. 'Therefoi-e, if I) be the elevation of the tid»
in our dynamical problem, «ho forces due to hydrostatic pressure
on an clement of the ocean are the same as would be caused by a
potential - jfjr'/o'. Hence it follows that the whole forces on tb«
element are those due to a potential - y(lj - t)r'la'' Therefore fro«
(16) we see that the c^iuations of motion are
^-2,.inW^.-Jj^(0-O
sin«|^.'2;,cos.^ =-„-l^i<^-'
It remains to tind thcequatjon of continuity. This may be deduced
geometrically from the consideration that the volume of an element
of the fluid remains constant ; but a shorter way is to derive it froi*
the equation of continuity as it occurs in ordinary hydrodynamical
investigations. If K be a velocity potential, the equation of coar
tinuity for incompressible fluid is
(Ul-
Equft- '
l;OQS of
motion.
Sr
(^r^'~sm0S95<t>\
+ l<p , [r- -.- - ■ .yjrie]
lt(p\ T 6111 9 dip
The element referred to in this equation is defined by r, tf, ^,
r-i{r, 6 + 66, <j,*lip. The oo-latitudiual and longitudinal veloci-
ties are -the same for all the elementary prism defined by ff, i
0 + S6, <l>^-S<tl, a'nd the sea Iwittom 'fheo -r. = -r,, — ^-^-n ■=
Td6 dl rsinedip
dri
and, since the radial pclocity isrflj/rff at the surface of tl*,
a -I- 7, and is zero at the sea bottom, where r=a,
— -". Hence, integrating with respect to r froti
y dl
T-a -I 7 to r = n, and again with respect to ( from the time t to the
ocean, where t
dV 1
we have t- —
dr
time when f), {, i\ all vanlih, and treating 7 and f) as small com-
pared with a, we have
t(jsin9-t|^(y{sine)-f j'_(7ij8ine) = 0 .■ (18).
This is the equation of continuili', and, together with (17), it forma
the system which must be integrated in the general problem of the
tides. The difliculliea in the way ofn solution are so great that
none has hitherto been found, except on the supposition that
7, the deiith of the ocean, is only a function of latitude. In tbU
ca-sc (18) becumes
Eqr.;i-
tion of
coDtina-
ity.
TIDES
359
1 d
1"
(19).
§ 12- AdapttUufn to Forced OsHlIalious
AdApU- Since we may suppose that the free oscillatioDS are annulled by
tlOB to frictioQ, the solution required is that correspoiHling to forced oscU-
rorced taCioQS. Now we have seen from (13) that r (which is proportional
o^oilla- to !'■) has terms of three kinds, the 6rst depending on twice the
tioo& moon's (or sun's) hour-an"le, the second on the hour-angle, and the
third independent thereof The coefficients of the first and second
terms vary slowly, and the whole of the third varies slowly. Hence
I ba« a seini'diurnal, a diurna), and a long period term. We shall
see later that these terms may be expanded in a senes of approxi-
DUtely aemi -diurnal, diumal, and slowly var^nng- terms, each of
which IS a stncWy harmonic function of the time. Thus we may
assume for t a form ecos(2n/V-t-Jl-0-^a', where/ and k are numbers,
and where e is only a function of co-latitude and of the elements of
the orbit of the disturbing body According to the usual method
of tr«acuig oscillating systems, we may therefore make the foUow-
lOgiSSSumptioD for the form of solution
I = e cos (2n/l i-kip + a)\
I) = h cos (2n// + k^-^ail
f = X cos (2n/< + i« -I- au
v = y sin (2n// + lc<p -*■ a;)
"here e, h. j, y are functions of co. latitude 0 only. Substituting
these values m (19), we have
(20),
— i ixi^x sin 0} ^ l~i\ •» bo
swede'
Then, if nr write ii for h - e
(20) in (17; leads at once to
and put '
(211-
irafg, substitiitiou from
x/' + y/sin *cos* =
jf sin # ■»■ x/ cos e = -
Solving (22) for x and y, we have
•* sin e (/' - cos' »)= — (
- 4"i V
Then BubstitAting from (23) in 1 21 1, '
Am de
4m sin $
^k COS*
4m\rf« 7 sin e
eqttatioD.
1 rfry{sin9
an e de\_ V
rfu *
de'/
,.(22).
(231-
siij ej''- cos'#i
f-cos^e
+ 4ma<Q-^e) = 0 (24).
This is Laplace's equation for tidal oscillations in an ocean whoso
depth IS only a function of latitude When u is founi^ from this
e<iaation, its value substituted in (23) will give x and y.
§ 13 Preparatum for Solution.
Prepars- The ocean which is considered in this case is not like that on the
tion for earth's surface, and therefore it doe.s not seem desirable to pursue
wtntrab. the integration of (24) except in certain typical cases.
In (13) we have the expansion of the disturbing potential and
implicitly of the disturbing forces in three terms, the first of
which is variable in half a day, the second in a day, and the third
in half the. period of revolution of the tide-raising body. Forestal-
ling the results of chapter iv.— each of these terms may be expressed
as the sum of a series of strictly harmonic functions of the time ;
the 6r^t set of these have all approximately semi-diurnal periods,
the second approximately diurnal periods, and the third vary
slowly in dependence on the periodic time of the tide-generating
body- The first set involve twice the terrestnal longitude, the
second the longitude, and the third set are independent of the
longitude of the place of observation. From these statements
compared with (13) we see that in the semi-diurual terms / is
approximately unity, k = 2, and r = E sin' e ; in the diumal terms
/ IS approximately 4, * = 1, and t = E sin « cos» ; in the terms of
long period /is a small fraction (for the fortnightly tide about ^),
i = 0, f = E(J-cos' ei The departure from exactness in the rela-
tion/=] for the semi-diurnal. and/=.J for the diurnal terms is
generally(except for certain critical depths of ocean) not such as to
greatly change the nature of the results from those obtained when
Laplace's/=1 and J rigorously. Hence the integration of (24) will be
three j.ursned on these three hypotheses, giving Laplace's three lands of
kinds of oscillation- The hypothesis which will be made with regard to y
osciUa- is that 7 = i(l -g cos' 8), and in the case of the semi-diurnal tides
tton. .we shall be compelled by mathematical difficulties td suppose q to
be either uniiy or zero. The tides of zonal seas may be worked out,
and more complex laws of depth may be assumed , but for the
discussion of such cases the reader Ls referred to Thomson's caoers
ia Phil. Mati.. 1875. ^ ^
There might be reason to conjecture that the form of u would be
Bucilir to that of e, and this is in fact the case for the diumal tides
for any value of q and for the semi-diumal tides when q is unity. PVeh
Before proceeding further it will be convenient to exhibit two niinary
purely analytical transformations of the first two terms of (•24) transfor
which hold tnie for certain values of k and / and when u has such mationj
a form as that suggested. If we put ;•= 1, /=*,-,.. A'l -? cos* 6),
then, if t> = ^ sin 9 cos e, it will be found on substitution that
1 A
sin #^ -(-211 cos »j
2 cot 0
,1_V
de sin' e
-8/yi> ..(25)
smede i-cos»« ' J-cos'»
Again, if weput/: = 2./=l, j = l, > = /< 1 - cos' 9) = f sin' #, and if
1 d
sin ede
y\^me~^2Tcos.e\ cot«^-''-i
.s'#
-8/t. (26)-
\_d
smOde
7 (sir
\~1 /cosftrfi,, ki„\
*) - i-,.V / W^s-m-J
Another general pio[*rty of (24) is denved from the supposition
that u IS expressed m a senes proceeding by powers of / , thus
u = f,*r|- + ,j^-,.^ (27).
Lot t„, Vj, f.j, &c , be so chosen that, when u is substituted in '24)
the coefficient of each jKiwer of / vanishes independently then
the term independent ol ; obviously gives 1,= -e. and the connex
ion t)etween successive v's is
^ dv^ k
sin 9-r.- -l--:i„cosi , , . ,
de I • I -ky-
/' - cos' e J 6in«C/'-cos'«)
-f4m/i._^, = 0 (28).
We shall suppose below that u is expansible in the form (27) and
shall use (28) in conjunction with (25) or (26) for finding' tha
successive valnea of the r s.
§ 14 Dxvrnal Tidt.
Let us 'irst consider the diumal tides. We have e = E sin 9cos » Diani.l
*=1, and/=J; then r„= - E sin » cosS Hence by (28) and (25) Hde
- 8/^1,-1- 47n;V| = 0 (29),
and therefore r, = ^i,. Applying the same theorem a second time,
r, = (29,/m )ii,, and so on ; therefore a = tJ1 -f 2lqjma * {llqima )' -^ - - .]
_ "0 _ e
\-2lql7jta~ ~ 1 -•Uqliiia '"""'
But u = h-e ; hence , 21-q/ma
^='l-2lq!ma' t^l).
It appears, therefore, that the tide is "inverted," giving low water
where the equilibnum tide mves high water ltq = 0, so that the
ocean is of uniform depth, the tide vanishes.
§ 15 Semi-Ihumal Tidt, uith Variahlt DepOi.
Next let us consider the semi-diurnal tide in the case where q = 1 Seat-
so that 7 = isin'9. Then e= E sin' ». A: = 2, /=1 ; alsor„= -e=:'dmnMi
-Eam'S. Hence by (28) and (26) -8(i.„-(-4).iiv, = 0, whence «;,= tid«.
2l'nv^ Applying the same theorem a second time, rj = (2/m)*r,
andsoon; therefore u = »„[l -i-2//ma -►(2f/);uz)'-f .. .) "
Hence
h = u-fe«i -
1 - 2;/iim 1 -
2//7.UT
2//7na"
-(32).
I-2//1110
If 2//mo = j, the height of tide is equal to the equilibrium height ;
but it is inverted, giving low water where the eqnilibnum theory
gives high water- In the case of the earth m = 1/289, and therefora
this relation is satisfied if / = a/1 156. Hence in a sea 3000 fathoms
deep at the equator, and shallowing to the poles, we have invert'ed
semi-diumal tides of the equilibrium height.
§ 16. Scmi-Diurnal Tide, u-ilh Uniform Depth.
The method of development used above, where we proceed by
powers of the depth of the ocean, is not applicable where the depth
is uniform, because it leads to a divergent series. We have there-
fore to resume equation (24). In the case of the semi-diurnal tides
we have for the depth y = l (a constant by hypothesis), /t = 2,/=l
approximately, anci e=Esin'e. Now for breiity let ^ = 47ita/l.
i' = sin e, so that c = Ev-'. Then we find that on development (24)
becomes
»'{1
,.(fu rfu
'''^du''''d,''
(8-2i-'-/3.^)u= -^&« - ...(33).
Let UB now assume as the solution of this equation
u = (/!'j-KW'-fA><-fA-e^«-F... -i- A-j,!-" -t- (34V
Substituting from (34) in (33), and enuatingto zero the coefficients
of the successive powers of >■, we find K. = E, K, apparently inde-
terminate, and
2t(2i-(-6)ir;..M-2!(2i-f3'/r».«-(-j5;rj,=o .,':.. (3.5).
Since /r|, = 0, this equation of condition may be held to apply for
all positive integral values of i, beginning with i = 0. It is obvious
that A'j is determinable in terms of A\ and A'„ A', in terms of A",
3G0
TIDES
nn.l A'„ tc, so that all tlic K's arc to be fouml in terms of A'.,,
nliiuli is Iniown, and of A',, which is apparently indeterniinate.
The conJition for the convcrgcncy of the scries (3-1) for u and for
the scries da/Un is that K^.+JK-a shall tend to a limit less than
unity. Tb'". equation (35) may be written
A'2^H_2i + 3 0 K^ ,3g,
A'2j+2 2i + 6 ■2i(2i + 6) Ar2.+2
Now AaW A'ji tend", to be cither infinitely small or not infinitely
small. If it be not infinitely small in the limit, the second term
on the right of (36) becomes evanescent when i is very great, and
we have in the limit when i is veiy large —
AXt4?!::!J_2i+_3 r 3_-i r _ 3-1
A'u,«i'='+=~2i + 6 L 2(i + 3)J L 2iJ
Hut the ratio of successive terms of \/{l-'-) tends to become
(1 _ ,5/,)i,2. Hence, if K-m+'^K-^ docs not tend to become infinitely
small, u = A + BVl - v-, where A and B are finite for all values of v.
Again, under the same circumstances- we have in the limit when i is
fcry large— ,
(2m^vVm|>^_2} + 4.2! + 3 ,_/,!_ Yj^_3_\2
(2i + 2)Arj,+u>'-*+'~2i + 2'27T6 V i + lA ■■ 2(i + 3)/
= (1-1/2jV. .." •
But the ratio of successive terms of (1 -y')"l tends to (l'-iA>'.
Hence, if A'ji+j/ATa does not tend to^,l)ecome infinitely small,
iu/d>'=C + D(l - 1--)-*, where C and D are finite for all values of ».
Now ^'i=^Vr:7r=cVi— '+D.
du dii
Therefore at the equator, where p = \, da/d9 = 'D, a finite quantity.
Hence the hypothesis tliat K,,^ilKu tends to be not infinitely small
leads to the conclusion that u and dwjdd are finite at the equator.
But on account of the symmetry of the system the co-hititudinal
displacement { must vanish at the equator, and. therefore x also.
By (23), whcn/=l, A = 2, ^ = bin 61,
»=x-=5— ( j^ + 2ucos9).
But we have just seen that this hypothesis makes u finite when
r = l or tf = 90°, and therefore at the equator
x = - — , ,:, a finite quantity.
AnidV .
Now symmetry necessitates a vanishing value of dwjdd at the
equator. Thus the hypothesis that K«,+nJk'^_, tends to be not in-
finitely sni.iU is negatived, and wo conclude that, on account of
the symmetry of the motion, it is infinitely small for infinitely great
values of i. This being established, let us write (36) in the form
K,,+o_ i^
A'a ~2i' + 3i-(.2i' + 6i)lC2i+,IKit+,
Method Hence by repeated application of (36a) we havo
.„,...,.(36a).
of coa-
Untied
2v' + 3i
(i' + 3i)ff
'lOlu-
, , [(i-H)»+3(i-l-l)]^
2(i + V''+3(i + l)--2(i+2)2 + 3(i + 21-&c (37).
And we know that this is a continuous approximation to Km^Kt,,
which must hold in order that tho latitudinal velocity may vaaisb
at the equator. Writing 1^^ = K'-n+^/JCii, all the A^a may be pom:
puted from the continued fraction (37). Then
A'2=E, KJE.=Nt. AVE=Af,Arj, KJE^N^U^^s, &c ^
We cannot compute A'j from A'„ Kg from Kf, and so on ; for, if we
do, then, short of infinite accuracy in the numerical values, we sh»U
be gradually led to successive values of the ATs which tend Xq
equality.*
This process was followed by Laplace without explaaatioa. 'It
was attacked by Airy in his " Tides and Waves " (in £ncy.,Ji!ctrop.)
and by Ferrel in his Tidal Researches (U.S. Coast Survey, 1873), but
was justified by Sir \V. Thomson in the PhiL Afaj^ (1875, p. 230).
The investigation given here is substantially Thomson's.
Laplace gives numerical solutions for three different depthi of
the sea. ^^, t,Vi. ttt-tt; of the earth's radius. Since m=xh,
these correspond respectively to the cases of 0=40. 10, 6, and the
solutions are
a=40, h = El''' + 201862i.« +10n64v« -13-1047i^-15-4488i'l''
-7 45811-'-- 219751''*- 0-450Ii'"'-O0687i''*
-0O082i/»- OOOOSi'-- O-OOOI.'"...!
'8=]0,'h = Efp»'n- 619601'* + 32474i'« + 07238i/«+' OOgigi-"
+ 0-0076>''^+ O-OOOJ*'*...}
p= 5, h = Eli''''+ 0-75041'* + 0-1566i'« + 0-0157i''+00009i'"' + ...}
1 Thomson cills tliis a disslpuion of accuracy. It may be illustrated thus.
Coiisi'liT the eriuntioii i2_ 3r+3'=0, which may be written eiUier i=il + ir2 or
1= a - 2li. i<o\t let i,,.^, = 3 + li>„ and suppose we st^rt with any value To. 'ess
than unity, and compute ii, xa, . • ■ !,• ThoD, starting with I„ In the equation
g = 3 - C/r„, if we work bacitwarda, we ought to coine to tho original value
lo-" In fact, however, wc shall only do so if there Isinflnir* accuracy in all
the inuncn.Jil v.ilnos. Kor. start with io= 4. then n,e 15, ijc 8M2, 13= -MBO.
r, = -9527 Tv - iiil'tj . and the values go oji appmifiniatiiig to 1 , which is a root of
the i-nuat'ioii. Ncvt start backwards with 15= VT, and we llnd £1= -938, r„= -SfiS.
t.j=-09a. l, = -127,/o=-12 75,i_,=3117,l_!=2;>57.a-_3 = 2-lS6,i_=i072;and
Jic valueu go on ajiproxiiuatiug *.o 2, the other root of tho equation*
Since h vanishes when i' = o, there is no rise iind fall of water at
the poles. AVhen »' = 1 at the equator, we find
0 = 40, h= -7-434E
0 = 10, h= ir267E
0= 5, h= 1-024E.
The negative sign in the first case shows that the tide is inverted,
at the eqnator, giving low water when the disturbing body is on
the meridian. Near the pole, however, tliat is, for small values of
V, the tides are direct. In latitude 18° (approximately) there is a
nodal line of evanescent semi-diurual tide. In the second and
third cases the tides are everywhere direct, increasing in magnitude
from pole to equator. As 0 diminishes the tides tend to assume
their equilibrium value, because all the terms, save the first, become
evanescent. When 0 = 1 (depth j^ of radius) the tide at the equator
still exceeds its equilibrium value by II per cent. As 0 diminishes
from 40 to 10 the nodal line of evanescent tide contracts round the
pole, and when it is infinitely small the tides are infinitely great.
The particular value of 0 for which this occurs is that where the free
oscillation of the ocean has the same period as thfi forced oscilla-,
tioiu The values chosen by Laplace were not well adapted for the
illustration of the results, because in the cases of 0=40 and 0 = 10
the depth of the ocean is not much different from that value whioh
would give infinite semi-diurnal tide. For values of ^greater than
40 we should find other nodal lines dividing the sphere into regions
of direct and inverted tides. We refer the reader 'to Sir W
Thomson's papery for further details on this interesting point,,'
§ J7. Tfdes 0/ Long Period ; iaplace's ArgumaU'
from Fridion.
In treating these oscillations Laplace.remarks that-a rery small LapUoo
amount of friction wUl be sufiSeient to canse the surface of the org—
ocean to asstune at each instant its form of equilibrium, and he ment
adduces in proof of his conclusion the considerations given below, from
The friction hero contemplated is such that the integral effect is friction
represented by a retarding force proportional to the velopty of the ccsoumlk
water relatively to tho twttom. Although proportionality to the
square of the velocity would probably be nearer to the truth, yet'
Laplace's hypothesis suffices for the present discussion.
In oscillations of this class the water moves for half a perioa nortli,
and then for half a period south. In oscillating systems, where tho
resistances are proportiona) to the velocities, it is usual to specify the
resistance by a mcdnlnjiof decay, namely, that period in which a
velocity is reduced to c*' of its initial Jalue by.friction. Now tho
friction contemplated by Laplace is such tliat the modulus of decoy
is short compared with the semi-period of oscillation. The quickest
of the important tides of long period is the fortnightly (see chapter
jy.) J hence, fbi the applicability of Laplace's conclusion, the modulus
of decay must be short compared with a week. Now it seems prac-
tically certain that the friction of the bed of tlie ocean would not
materially afff ct the velocity of a slow ocean current in a day or two.
Hence we cannqt wcept Laplace's discussion as satisfactory. How*
ever this may be, we now give what is substantially his argument.
Let us write 6 for the reciprocal of the modulus of decay. •S^en
the frictioual fcrc*8 introduced on the left-hand side of (17) are
-f- edildt in the first and sin SSdv/dl in the second. Laplace's
hypothesis with regard to the magnitude of the frietional foriea
enables us to neglect the terms d-(/dt- and sin 9 drri/d^ compared
with the frietional forces. Then, if we observe that in Dscillation»
of this class the motion is entirely latitudinal, equations (17) aijd,
(19) become Ji
«^-2nsinficos9t?=-2^(I,-C)
aau ^
sin «e§-l-2n cos 9^=0
dl dt
f)asin9-f^(7{sin9) = 0
■ (38)1
From the first two of these we easily obtain
(..f'cos».)f =-1^,(6-0 ^..mi
As a first approximation we treat d^jdl as zero, and obtain Ij^f*
or the height of water satisfies the equilibiiuiii theoiy. lu thess
tides (see chap, iv.) t = 3£ (J- cos-fl) cos !(, so th.nt fioiii the tliU'd
equationof (38) we can obtain a first approximation toj; lheii,sub>
stituting in (39), wo obtain on integration a second opproMiiialioii
to Ij. Laplace, however, consider as adequate the first apiMuximpi
tion, which is simply the conclusiou of the equilibrium theory.-
§ IS. ^Tides of Long Period in an Ocean of Uniform Depth
As it seenas certain that these tides do not s.itisfy even apprixi- Tideii«»'
mately the equilibrium law, we now proceed to find tlio solution lon^
where there is no friction. In the case of these tides A- = 0,/ a small [iaj-ioll
fraction, and e = E(J-cos-fl). The equation (24) then bcomca williou
<fU\ fnctioa
_i-« />W'^*2gU4mr<'n-fo) = 0,
TIDES
3iil
,.(40).
'V. writing fi for cos 9 and c = E(i -;*-),
Ve shall confine tlic invcb(i',Titioii to tlio casa nlicre y = l, a con-
st:int, aiul where tlic sea covci-s the whole surface of the glolw.
The symmetry of tlie motion in this case demands that u when ex-
(landcd in a series of powers of n shall only invulve even [lowers.
Let us .assume, therefore, that
-Ti-^^' = B,M+IV../»'+...+Ba+iM-'^'+ (")•
Then i;:4*>^i3^^ + (B^_ B ,^,+ ... +(1$.^^, . R^-,V+' + ...
dlAli' -f d/ij
-B>-+.
Again,
+ (2.-+l)(B3+,-B;.-,)M='+.
,...(42).
,.+(B3i-i-/»Ba+i)M«+'+ (43).
►
•u = C- J/=B,^' + 4(B,-/'B3V+ ••• i-2itBa-«-/'Ba.,)f'«+ (44),
where C is a constant. Then, wTiting ^ for imafl, as in the case of
the semi-diurnal tide, substituting from (42), (43), and (44) in (40),
and c<]uating to zero the successive coefficients of the powers of «,
y_cfind C=-4E+Bi/i3
B3-B,(l-s^/'^) + i^E=0
^ -•' ■' j-{45).
*^>-1'--0 -27(2?TT)-^-^ ) - 27(2^^-'=0
thus the constant C and TJ,, Bj, ic, are all expressible in terms of
Pi.and IJi is apjiarently indeterminate. AVc may remark that, if
-^i!-, = i^E,orB..= -2E.
the equation of condition (45) may bo held to apply for all values
of 1. from one to infinitj". . Let us write (45) in the lorni
Ba-,~ 2i(2i+l)-' ^'^ 2i(2» + l)Bj,-, ^"'
\Vhen t Is large Ba+i/B»,-i either tends to become infinitely smaU
or it docs not do so. Let us suppose that it docs not tend to become
infinitely small. Then it is obvious that the successive B's tend
to beconie equal to one another, and so also do the values of
(C;.-;-/^Ba.i) jli and the coefficients of duJdtL. Hence we have
i/u/rf^= i+j'f/{l-M'). for all values of m, where L and M are
finite, llcncc this hypothesis gives infinite velocity to the fluid at
llethtxl the pole, where fi — l. But with a water-covered globe this infinite
of con- velocity is impossible, and therefore the hypothesis is negatived,
imued and Bi^i/Ba-i must tend to Ixjcome infinitely small. This being
'fiaclioB established, let us write (46) in the form
l5-=^Mi±lL (17).
2>(2i-H)~B,.-,
Wy repeated applications of (47), we have in the fortn of a con-
-inucd fraction
/9
B,,., 2!(2.-!-l)
U.-.-J , /'? • (21-4- 2X2^-4- 3)
^'
- 2.(2i-H). , f'^ '
(2!-l-4)(2i-i-5)
C2i + 2X2i + 3)\
f'P
■ (2i + 4)(2i + 5) + '='^-(*8'-
And we know that this is a continuous approximation, which must
hold in order to satisfy the condition that the water covers the
whole globe. Let us denote thiscontinucd fraction by-JVj. Theh,
if we remember that B_,= - 2K, we have
D,^2Ei\',. B3/B,= -X^ B.JR^=-X„ B,/B,= -X,. kc,
30 that
■ -K3= -2E^V,.V^ Bi = 2EiV,,V,A'„ li,= -2EX,X.A'^y^, ic,
md C=-iE-H2E.V,/;J.
rhen h = u-^e
= C-^4E-(E-l-irB,)^=-^l(B,-/•B3)M'-l-i(nJ-/!B>'-^. . .
= E !2A-,/;3 - (1 +_r-X,)^- + .t.V,(l +/-X.)n'
- i-V.Xd -i-/2.\>«-H. . ."J (49).
Now nc find that, when /3 = 40, which makes the ilepth of the
sea 3000 fathoms or j^-, of the radius of the earth, and with
/=0365012, which is tiic value for the fortnightly tide (see
chap, iv.),
-V, = 30406!)2, X = l-20137, A^=-6C7J4, JV4 = -42S19, A'i = -29S19,
A'e = -21950, ^V,= 16814. A'^ = -132S7, A',j = -107, A'„ = -l.
Jlicse values give
I 2.V,/(3= 15203, l-r/--.V, = 100n, i.V,(l +/^.V.) = 1-5228.
iXiX,il+/"-X,) = l-2\87, iX^X,S\(il+/•■AV^) = ■600SS.
J.V,....A',(l-l-/'iV5) = -20SSS, |.V,..."jV,(l-l-./"i^'6)=05190.
iXi...X^ii+j'X,)=00976, iXt...X,a+f-X^ = -001i.
^A'l . . . .Ay 1 +/--\8) = 00017.
So that
li/e=tl520-1004]M= + l-5225»*-l-2]8rM»+-C099M'--2089(i" Solutions.
•f0519M'=--Oe9SM"-i--0014K"--0002K'"l-=-(i-M-) (50).
At the pole, where fi = l,h= - E x 1037 = 0 x -15561 ,,,.
and at the equator, where ^ = 0, h= -i-E x ■l.V.iO = c x -4561 / '■'"•.
Now let us take a second case, where /3= 10, which v. as also oii«
of those solved for the case of the s<'nii-diiiinal tide by Laplace,
and we find
h/E= •2363-l-0016>i=-f -jDIOm*- ■1027;i'"- 4- -0258*1'- -U026m'°
.-1- ■0002m''-.
At the pole, where ii-l, we find h= -Ex -3137 = 6 x -471, and at
the equator h=-»-Ex -2363 = 6 x -709. With a deeper ocean wo
should soon arrive at the equiiihrium value for the tide, for X^, X«,
ic, become very small, and 2^\',/^ becomes equal to J. In this
case, with such oceans as those with which we have to deal, tlic
tides of long period are considerably smaller than the eauilibrium
value.
§ 19. Slabilitij of the Ocean.
Imagine a globe of density S, surrounded by a spherical layer of Stabiht/
water of density a. Then, still maintaining the spherical fienre. and of the
with water still covering the nucleus, let the layer be displaced oetah.
sideways. The force on any part of the water distant / from the
centre of the water and r from the centre of the nucleus is Jrcrr'
towards the centre of the fluid sphere and 5ir(5 - a)r towards the
.centre of the nucleus. If J be greater than a- there is a force tend,
ing to carry the water from places where it is deeper to places where
it is shallower ; and therefore the equilibrium, thus arbitrarily dis-
turbed, is stable. If, however, 5 is less than cr (or the nucleus
lighter than w-ater) the force is such that it tends to carrj- the water
from where it is shallower to where it is deeper, and therefore the
equilibrium of a laj-er of fluid distributed over a nucleus lighter
than itself is unstable. As Sir AVilliam Thomson has remarked,',
if the nucleus is lighter tlian the ocean, it will float in the ocean Stabilttie*
with part of its surface dry. Suppose, again, that the fluid layer of lariom
be disturbed, so that its equation is r = n(l +s,), where s, is a sur- orders.
face harmonic of degree i ; then the i>otcntial due to this deformar
tion is -;r-j-j St, and the whole potential'
~3r'*"27+l fi+J*"
If, therefore, ir/(2i -Hi) is greater than 55, the potential of the forces
due to deformation is greater than that due to the nucleus. But
we have seen that a deformation tends to increase itself by nu\tual
attraction, and therefore the forces are such as to increase the
deformation. If, therefore, ff= J(2i-l-l)J, all the deformations up
to the ith are unstable, but the i-Hlth is stable.' If. however, <r
be less than 5, then all the deformations of any order are such that
there are positive forces of restitution. For our present purpose
it suffices that this equilibrium is stable when the fluid is lignter
than the nucleus.
§ 20. Precession and Xutaliony
Suppose w-e have a planet covered with a shallow- ocean, and that I'recej-"
the ocean is set into oscillation. Then, if there-are no external dis- sion tn^
turbing forces, so that the oscillations are "free," not "forced," iiii;ati«lt
the resultant moment of momentum of the planet and ocean remains
constant. And, since each particle of the ocean executes periodic
oscillations about a mean position, it follows that the oscillation at
the ocean imparts to the solid earth oscillations such that tlie re-
sultant moment of momentum of the whole system rouains constant.'
But the mass of the ocean being very sni.iU compared witli that of
the planet, the component angular velocities of the planet nece.'vsarf
to counterbalance the moment of momentum of the oscillations of
the sea are very small compared with the coniiioncnt aiignlat
velocities of the sen, and therefore the disturbance of planetirv
rotation due to oceanic reaction is negligible. If now an external
disturbing force, surli as that of tho moon, .-icts on the sj-stem, tha
resultant moment of momentum of sea and earth is unaflccted by
the interaction bctw-cen them, and the preccssional and nutational
coujiles arc the sinic as if sea and earth were rigidly connected
together. Therefore the additions to these couples on account ol
tiilal oscillation are the couples due to the attraction of the moon
on the excess or deficiency of water alMVe or below mean sea.leveL
Tlic tidal oscillations are very small in height compared with the
equatorial protuberance of the earth, and the density of water is
T*ithsof that of surface rock ; hence tho additional couples are very
small compared with the couples due to the moon's action on the
> Thomson and Tait, A'ol. Fhil., § S16. : "*
2 Compare an impertaat paper by Poincare. in .1cm Matli. (ISSi), 7 ; 3. 4'
XXIII. -^46
362
TIDES
■<!o«Tec- solid equatoml prot\ib«ra.nc«. Therefore precession and 'nutation
tiOD8.t4 take place sensibly as though the sea were congealed iu its mean
p-eces- position. If the ocean be regarded as fricfionlcss, the principles
•ion and of energy show us that tliese insensible additional couples must be
cutation periodic in time, and thus the corrections tanntatiou mast consist
iBsen* " of semi-diurnal, diurnal, and fortnightly ligations of absolutely
Bible. insensible magnitude. We shall have much to say below on the
results of the introduction of frictiou into the conception of tidal
oscillations as a branch of speculative astronomy. '
Tides m
§ 2L Some Phenomena 'of Tides in Rivers.
In § 2 we have given a description of some of the phenomena of
!"'"'• the tide-wave in rivers. As a considerable part of our practical
knowledge of tides is derived from observations in estuaries and
rivers, we give an investigation of two of the most important
features of tne tide-wave in'these cases. It must be premised that
when the profile of a wave does not present the simple harmonic
form it is convenient to analyse its shape into a series of partial
waves superposed on a fundamental wave ; and generally the prin-
ciple of harmonic analysis is adopted, in which the actual wave is
regarded as the sum of a number of simple harmonic waves.
The tide-wave in a river is a "long" wave in which the vertical
motion of the water is yjry small compared with the horizontal,
the river very shallow' cSinpared with the wave-length, and the
water which is at any moment in a vertical plane always remains
so throughout the oscillation.
Suppose that the water is contained in a straight and shallow
canal of uniform depth ; then take an origin of coordinates at the
bottom, with the x axis horizontal in the direction of the canal,
and the y axis vertical ; let A be the undisturbed depth of water ;
let A-t-i) be the ordinate of the surface corresponding to that fluid
whose undisturbed abscissa is x and disturbed abscissa z -i- $ ; and
let jbe gravity.. The equations of motion and continuity ' are
^-^=gh—
,.(52).
vd^jdxf
_-hdildx
''" \+dildx'
For brevity we shall write if=gh and u=vt-x,' Since for "long"
waves dildx is small, the equations (52) become approximately /
\d^_
ijsffsin nil
.(,:
This represents the oceanic tide, and.T! is.th.ii which we call below
(§ 23) the speed of the tide. Then obviously m=njv, so that at
any point a: np the river ~
' £)■ <^«^
(56) gives the first approxima'ion to the forced tide-wave, and
it is clear that any number of oscillations may be propagated inde-
pendently up the river with the velocity \/gh due to the depth of Over
the river. In passing to the second appnmmatioa wc must separate tidei.^
the investigation into two brandies.
(L) Orcr-Tidcs (see § 24).— We now suppose that the tide at th«
river mouth is simply (55). On substituting the approiimate
values (54)_in (53) our equations become
'-m .d--l
-j-j= r— ; -t-liAi'm' sin.2inu
h
dx^
■ ^-f JmW - ^m'a- cos 2m«
.(57).
h dx^\dx) ) '
For finding a first'approximation we neglect the second term on
the right of each of (53). The solution is obviously
{ = oc0S77i(rJ-z)=«C03mu\ 154')^
(54) gives the height of the water whose undisturbed abscissa is
X, and since ( is small this is approximately the height at the point
on the bank whose abscissa is x. But now suppose that at the
origin (the mouth of the river) the canal communicates with a
'basin in which there is a forced oscillation of water-level given by :
v=ffsm ni (55).
We have now to assume an appropriate form for the solution of (57),
such as { = a cos mii-t- Azcos 27nu-i-B sin 2mw (53).
We have here in effect assumed that the second and third terms of
(5S) are small compared with the first It "is clear, however, that
at a distance from the origin the term in A will become large.
This difficulty may be eluded by taking the canal of finite length,
and supposing that, where the canal debouches into a second basin,
a second appropriate forced oscillation is maintained- The length
of the canal remains arbitrary, save that the second term of (58)
shall still be small compared with the first. On substituting from.
(58) in (57) we have B indeterminate and A= - iahn? ; hence
7j/A = Jm'a'-masin7>n«-f3m'a^rsin2mu-f(2inB-Jm-a-)cos2m!t(59).
This gives the elevation of the water whose iindisturbed absciss*
is X, that is to say, at the point whose abscissa along the bank is
Jf=x-^f. ' If we put a=X- J in the largest term of (59), and trea'
i as small, and put x = X in the small terms, (59) becomes,
))/A= -masinm^vt- X) + lmVXsm2m{vl-X)
-f (3mB - Jm-o-) cos 2m(r( - X).
But at the origin (55) holds true, therefore B= j'l-jna', -mah=B,
and mv=n. Thus the solution is
/Ti/+.r71^='"2n0---|.)^66)|
From'(CO) we can see what the proper forced oscillation at the Solutioa
further end of the canal must be ; but this matter has no present giving
interest. The first term of (60) being called the fundamental, the first
second gives what is called the first over-tide ; and by further over-tida.
approximation w-e can get the second, third, kz The over-tide
travels up the river at the same rate as the fundamental, bnt it has
double frequency or "speed," and the ratio of its amplitude to that
of the fundamental is --r — =.T
1 As a nnmerical example, let the range of tide at the river mouth
be 20 feet and the depth of river 50 feet. The ''speed" of the
semi-diurnal tide is about 1/1 '9 radians per hour ; •Jgh = 27 miles
on- -, Y" 1 ,- - ,
per hour ; hence -tt — ^ = xr% S. Therefore 34 miles up the river
. in -^Jgh -^^
=Hs.m
"('-is)-
"312
the over-tide is •y'jth of the fundamental and has a range of 2 feet
If the river shallows very gradually, the formula will still hold,
and we see that the height of over-tide varies as (depth)"!.
Fig. 1 ' read from left to right exhibits the progressive change
of shape. The steepness of the advancing crest shows that it is a
shorter time from low to high water than vice versa. The law of
the ebb and flow of currents mentioned in § 2 may also be easily
determined from the above investigation. We leave the reader to
determine the efl'ect of friction, which is given by inserting a term
y- lidildt on the right-hand side of (57).
later- ("■) Compound Tides (see § 24). — We shall now consider the
ference mutual influence of two waves of different periods travelling up
of waves the river together. In the first approximation they are quite inde-
in abil- pendent, and we may assume
low 4 = a cos m(t't - r) -H 6 cos [n{t!/ - x) -(- 1] (61).
water. ♦ jq proceeding to the second approximation, we only take notice,
of those terms which result from the interaction of the two, and
omit all others, writing for the sake of brevity
jm- n\ ={n -n){vt-x) - (,
Jjn-mj =(m-l•r!)(tX-z)■^t..'
With the value of 4 assumed in (61), we find; on substituting in (53)
and only retaining terms depending on mutual influence, that the
equations for the second approximation are
1 See, for example. Lamb's //yctrcdt/namics, cbap. vii
' Froia Ajry, "Tides aod Waves"
cpi^' ipe \ ^
j-j=i^j4-f5«'a!w!n[(m-Kt)Ein jm-l-n} -(m-n)sin(m-n}] I,,, .
i)/A= -ahmn{cos{m-¥n) -cos{nt-n}]-(i|/(ir )^
Now let us assume as the solution ' '
{ = acosm(^'(-I) + AJ:cos^7)l-^7l( -hBsinjm-4-Ti} .'1 ffiSI ■
-4-6cos[n(i;i-x)-)-£]-HCicosJm-n) -HDsiu{m-n} J","'^ y
and let us elude the difficulty about the increasing magnitude of
the second term in the same way as before. Substituting in th^
equation of motion, we have for all time,
2(m-Hn)Asin{m-ni} ■h2(m-7i)Osin {m-n}
-t-5<iJmn[(m-ni)sia,jm-Hn| -(m-n) sin {m-nj] = 0.
This gives A= - \abmn and C= -t- Jaimn. B and D remain arbi-
trary as before, and will be dropped, because they arc to be deter,
mined by the condition that at the origin the terms of diidx ii^
cos jm-tnl, cos)m-n) are to vanish, whence
17/A = - am sin m(vt - ar) - im sin [n(rf - i) -k]
-f \abmn[{^m -i- n)x sin (m -ml - (m - n)z sin [m-nV)
-f terms in cos{m-(-?i} and cos {m- pj .*
Then we pass from x to JT as in the last section, and make the.
terms in cos {m-^ n} and cos{m - n) vanish by proper values of B and,
D, and we have
i) = amAsinm(»i- J) - i7insin[7i(i'J- 1) -Htl.
-f|aimnA'[(m-f7!)sin |m-fn( -(m-ii)sin{m- n}] (64).
Now at the river's mouth, where x = 0, suppose that the oceanic tidt»
is represented by i)=.ff,sinn,(-ffijSin(n._.(-K)
TIDES
Then '-am=UJh, - bn^MJk, habmn= ff^HJh,
3Q3
for com-
poozxl
udea.
it) tha» (61) becomes
1) 5- a; Fin n/< _ — = ) + iTj sin
v=\/gh, m±.n-
VjS
^^^]
(65).
'As a
.nnmencal example suppose at the mouth of a river 60 feet
deep that the solar semi-diurnal tide has a range 2ff, = i feet, and
theTuhar2^, = 12 feet; then n, +n,=f^radians|ertoir. 4-^=^
radians per hour, and as tefore V?A=27 miles per hour. With
ttesefigiires ^HJl^n^^^ 1 ^
Sl?^ mJ^'I"^ °P ""^ •"''" ""; q»»t"-<li''nial tide (iu § 24 below,
caUed MS) has a semi-range of an inch. But the Inni-soiar fort-
X^ 't <w^''' *l?^^ § '■" """''i ••"« a s;mi.™n^°of ,Vh
cf an inch. Where the two interacting tides are of nlarly equal
•peed the summation compound tide is very large compared with
TUtu,
("1 +
"j)((
(n, -»,)(/.
and
i|=C5iH-"J!r^in7!j
\lgfl)
\'gh'
e =
2...-(., + ^,— ;
f , ^
Hi
- — -J- ^sin 27i,<-
/-r' sill
yj.jh
"^lv.\
'"'+'^';JJ
Twe
nethoda
of treat-
ing <*.
terra-
lions.
Syn-
thetic
'method.
Tkree
classes
m tides.
i.^'^lS f™?' slope of the tide.wave is steeper atspring'than at
L^Jl^.*"*^ the compound tide shows itself in tSe fof m of an
augmentation .of the first over-tide; and the converse statement
^kli L""P *A^'- • ^^° """■'^^t*'- mark is lower and hi 'her
alternat^y up the nver at spring tide, and higher and lower aTter-
fcrlnfi ,' .°f P 't^ i^ i ='"^" »""»">' 'hi-^h depends on the dif.
Sternaln w;,lH Jl'' *\' "^"'l "^''^ ""^ were considering! the
.uTweTor:utgh':r." ""'^""' ""'"^^ *" actuality be'either
rv. The Habmootc Analtsis.
§ 22., Methods of applying Theory to Praetia,
pie comparison between tidal observations and tidal theories
t^ tl ° W "°" "^ ^"'^ r'^'^'^""e the tidal os^illatfons ofThe
^ aX .'^° ?"""* °"* '" '"« different ways, which mav be
caJled the "synthetic" and the "analytic " ■'^
The semi-diurnal rise and' fall of tide withthe weekly alternation
of spnng and neap would naturally suggest to the invStor
to make hu formula conform to the a^arent simpUc^ry ofthe
phenomenon.'. He would seek to represent the height ^fw^erbv
ejther one or two periodic functions with a varUble ampllSde^
Zb^/tP'1!"*^r";? ''1\' "'"" °f ">« =y°"«=«<= method^ T^at
T^^t p*^'" ^'? "Y;'^ ^y "" ""^ P-^^t investigators of the past
W^^p ^'™°""'> M^claurin, Laplace, Lubboc?^ WheweU Airy"
.Since at Eoropean ports the two tides which foUow one anothfr ou
any one aay are nearly equal, or, in other words, th^e is scarce^
l£Sr'.n **,'•""',' 'it'' '}^''' i"^^=tigators bestow'ed c^mpar^t v v
;httle attention to the diurnal tides. If these are neglected the
^nttheride^T^''™/'^' ^^ " ^"^'^ f""^""" suffiot to Lre-
>ent the tide. In nou-European ports-, however, the diurnal ti/e is
somet mes so large as to mask the semi-diurnal and to make onU
Jenr"^ ntTh'^H-"^ ''A'^f^^ ^'^^ "^'- '» twenty four Ws Tb
'to^^rodM ,.f r-"t' *"^' '" '^' '^^^'^'' method^ve are compelled
to introduce ^t least one more function. There should also be a
tbrd function representing the tides of long period ; tut until the
W t I'^u^^^'Vt' ^"""^ ''"''^y teen conside ed, and there!
m^fZ^^^^^"' '■" ' H^y »f them in explaining the s™thetic
method. The e.-tpress.on for the tide-generating forces due to either
son or moon consists of three terms, involving the declinations am!
it.Z^^}"" "' '^' P''"f • ^"' °f '^''' '"-"S f" each goes thro"Rh
Its penod approximately twicS a day, a second once a day andX
J?i,t ^/"'' ?'?"'^ '^ ^)- The «iathema£ical basis of the^k nthetic
method consists t,f a synthesis of the mathematical fomuliTl'
^ctZ *°™ '°'}^' '"°°'' ■= fl's'^'l ^"'h that for tl°eTun, and the
T^.Z fV, ^""^d o-ut for the diurnal and slowly varying ernTs
ama^reveLif Itanlr f. ' 1"^" -^ere thc^ diuSlidT s
"an, even il. as in all the older observations, it consists merely
fusk,n^i'f''tw^"''- ^T'y ^^^ ^"-^ '°^ ^^^t". 5°°" shows that the
toJerrese^trt!''"f.°5"='"' P"i°dic functions is insufficient
to represent the state of tide ; and the height and time of hiirh
TmotZ in rith^ ""^ ''"""''T ^°' 'he vafiations of deelinati?n.
But when c^r ^''^"^1°^- ^"d of the parallaxes of both bodies,
data thl^ thoTof 'Jr' b'^'-e^^Ses were set up far more extended
investfrtor °,!h L ' °^^" observations became accessible to the
investigator and more and more corrections were found to be ex
If uri W al?tl,i''d T"^'"" *° }^' f^^*^- ^ »a?ic me hod
^eve^Pf'^"^*""^"' '^^ theoretical determin'ation of correclfon ^
wl^^'"^' ""'Tf ''^"^ the explicit adoption of the anaWtio
method as a gi-eat advance. In this method we conceive the fdal
forces or potential due to each disturbing body to be developed into
a series ot ter.ns each consbting of a co°nstant (determined by ?he
elements of the planet's orbit and the obliquity of"he eclfptic)
S^.»?f 1^^ ' simple harmonic function of the time T lus hi'
?id^, wl ?' '"'"'• "i ?^ '^"thetic method for tho three classes ^1
Ides we have an indefinitely long series of terms for each of tho
hree classes The loss of simpUcTty in the expression for the forces
13 far niore than counterbalanced by the ga n of facilitv for thl
thf;Sa?/^"''•'"f'*•"°"^°f*hewa'ter. f his facility arles from
exrffinerl1rA""v\P""','P " "^J"'"'^ oscUlations, which we have
th?J „, \ .'°*he historical sketch. Applying this principle, we see
til ,-^ '^dividual term of the harmonic development of the tide,
generating forces corresponds to an oscUlation of the sea of the
?en.nJi'"°'^' ^'l^ ^^? ^mpHtude and phase of that oscillation must
4h'e .lur "^'™'-k of ""'s^ of almost inextricable complication.
IrL ? ^- n"''^' 'h^n. represents tho tide at any port by a
Jw.hJ''"'' ■ ^'?°°'\*'™' *hose period is determined from
frZ ik "°S"l«rations, but whose amplitude and phase are found
from observation. Fortunately the series representing the tidal
onlv » m°^^'T with sufficient rapidity to pe'rmit us to conside.
only a moderate number of harmonic terms in the series
in thT,,'' "f T^ likely that the corrections which have been applied
more.,,- fV'°'y!.'*'''"'= """'hod might have been clothed in a
W rfrtv^'"*°,'y,^''v «'"=<^"?<^t mathematical form had investigators
f-h! J? • M°- h^moi'c development. J In this article we shall
therefore invert history and come 6ack on the synthetic method
from the analytic, and shall show how the formula of co^ecti^
f„ i!.„,V h.a™'""'= language may be made comparable with them'
in synthetic language. One explanation is expedient before pro- Fusion-or
n the^il'i^''' ^^''"r' •i'^'lP'^^Pt. Ther^e are certain te?ms te™s
i^i r i'^^''"^'"'" '^°'"= °f *he moon,- depending on the longi- affected
vef^ Nol7t°r\"'"'"r' '^;* ^^'Pif'^ *^^^ '^^"hition in 18% by m!
LhoA r?u \ " ''•'° ^""J"*. Praotically convenient, in the appli- tiin-of
cation of the harmonic method, to follow the synthetic plan to the moon°s
extent of clarifying together terms whose speed differs only in node
consequence of the movement of the moon's nide, and at the ime
time to conceive that there is a small variability in tha intensity of
tne generating forces. ' - ''
§ 23. ^Developmmt of EquUibrium Theim/ ofTidain Terms.
__ of the Elements of the Orbits. '
Within the limits at our disposal we cannot do more than inr Eouii:.'
dirate the processes to be followed in this development. ShZ
Wnr^tt^^ilr.'" ''^ '"^^ "'^ '^''^"'^ ^- *'- -°o>'3 theory;
tide-generating potential is
V=|^=(cos'.-J),
and ia (10) that
■ cos' I - J = 2f,MiMa + 2^^ ■ Hi!
-m;
elementfr.
or orbits
intro.
duced:
^-h2,fMj5l3 + 2ffM,ir3
2 3
2? M,' + M„2-2M,»
.where M,,M2,M3 are the direction cosines of the moon referred ttf
axes fixed in the earth. We require to , «ieu to
find the functions Mjjfj, J(M,= -M„2),
&c., of the moon's direction cosines.'^
Let A, B, C (fig. 2) be the axes fixed
in the earth, C being the north pole
and AB tho equator; let X,Y Z be a
second set of axes, XY being the plane
of the moon's orbit ; M the projection "
of the moon in her orbit ; I=ZC, the ,"
obliquity of the lunar orbit to' tho
equator; x = AX = BCY; ; = MX, the p.. „ -
a kind of I annon.e analysis for reducing tidal observations- but as Airvdid
not emancipate himself from the use of hour.angles, dcclinatiins 4^ Ins work
can hardly be considered as an example of the analytic method 'sec his ''raS
and Wave.s, 'and Hatfs rUnooient da .War.-K, Paris ISSo
' !■ or further details of the analysis -of this section. 'see the Rnon "Ois
Harmonic Analysis, ic.,- for 13S3 to the British AssoSotion CSouthl^X
364
T I D E B'
..(67),
.Moon « 'Tnor-n's longitude in her orbit mcasureil from X, the intci-soction of
f'.ungitiiilo' tlip fquator » ilh the lunar oibit, hereafter called the "iiitcrsoclioii."
iiid obli- Tiicn
.qnity ot M,= cos ^eosx + sin /sin xcos
iliit 111- M,= - cos / sin X + sill < cos X cos
'.jdticed.' Mj= siii/sm/
.AVriting for brevity ;; = cos -i/, j = sin S!.
\vc fiad that
M,' - Jl.r =;'' cos 2(x - ') + 2//"?* c°s 2x + ?* cos 2(x + 0 "j
- 2.\l|M'j = tho same witlPMJi'-s in place of cosines I v '^
.M.;Mj= -;y7TOs(x-2/)+/«?(p^-'r)<:osx+;'!r'c.os(x+20 HC^).
MiiM3=i.tlie same \vith sines in place of cosines I
i-M3- = J(/- VV + ?') + 2r3-™s2J J
The.se arc the required functions of Mj, Mj, Jfj.
Now let c be tJio moons uieaii distance, e the eccentricity of jliO
moon's orbit, and let
r = }~ .- " (59)-
'.Then, putting
X = [?ll^JlI„ r=[^-i^]5M„Z:i['M"]H (70).
i« e hava ' ^,
V-=-^-j^/=2{,XY + 2«— 25L^-;-I% 2,fYZ ;2{?X?
-Moou's
fltstauce
aod ec- •
•centricity
iiilro- —
^■i
SjV+i-
-2{"X' + Y^-2Z°-.
3
..(71).
Tide,
.gener.v-
JSOg pn.
•^-ential
2 3
Corfesponjing to tho definition of a simple tido given in 1 1, Iho
t.\|ires3ion for each term of the tide-generating jjoteutial should
coiist.'.t of a soli*^ spherical harmonic, multiplied by a fiimple time-
harmonic In (71) p'ti, p-(?^-»!-), &c., are solid spherical har-
monics, and in order to complete the expression for V it is. necessary
to develop tlic five functions of X, Y,~Z in a sei;ies (ft simple time-
harniunics. But (71) may be simplified in such a way that the
tive functions arc reduced to three. The axes fixed in the earth
may be taken, as in § 7„to have their extremities as follows: — the
ixis C tlic north pole, the axis B 90° E. of A on tho equator, and
the axis A on tlio equator in the meridian of the place of observa-
tion. Thus, if \ bo' the latitude of that place, we have
4 = cos \, T= 0, {■= sin X.
Then, writing a for the earth's radius at the place of observation,
(71) becomes
V = -^^J cos'MX' - \'') -f s.n 2\XZ
+ 5(5-sin=X)4(X2-fY=-2Z«)']
..(n&).
The process of developing the three functions of X, Y, Z consists
in the introduction of the formula; of elliptic motion into (QQ)
md (70), the subsequent development of tho ^Y Z functions
,n a series of trigonometrical terms, and the rejection of terins
which appear nnmetically to be negligible. Tho terms depends
ing on the principal lunar inequalities — evoction and variation —
are also introduced. Finally, tne three X-Y-Z functions aro ob*
taiiied as a series of simple time-harmonics, with theargummts of
the sines and cosines linear functions of tho earth's roUilion, the
moon's mean motJon,'"and the longitude of the moon's perigee. The
next step is to pass, according to the principle of forced oscillations,
from the potential to the height of tide generated by the forces
corresponding to that potential. The X-Y-Z functions being simple
time -harmonics, tho principle of forced vibrations allows us to
conclude that the forces corresponding to V in (71a) will generate
oscillations in the ocean of the same periods and types as tlie terms
in V, but of unknown amplitudes and phases. 'Sow let 3P-^',
XZ, 4{JE- + 0^ - 22") be three functions having respectively similar
forms to thoso of
X=-Y=
XZ_ , T(X"-rY^-2Z^>
' (1-cT 3 {\-c^f '
.height
of tide
it any
port.
but differing from them in that the argument of each of the simple
time-harmonics has some angle subtracted from it, and that the
term is multiplied by a numerical factor. Then, if g be gravity
and h the height of tide at the place of observation, we mnst have
h = -^~'[ico3n(3?-g2j + 8in2Xl2+3C4-sm3X)i(r + g2,2^')] (V2).
The factoi; ra-Jg may be more conveniently written nwl*)'^
where J/ h the enrth's mass. It has been so chosen that, if the equili-
brium theory of tides were fulfilled, with water covering the whole
earth, the numerical factors iTi the XViZ functions would be each
Dtitini- unity and the alterations of phase would be icro. The terms in
tion of Jl(JE'--f-§^- 2Z^\ require special consideration* The flinction of the
Jdgh tide latitude being ^-sin'X, it follows that, wlicn in the northera
of tlde-af hemisphere it is high water north of a crrtaiu critical latitude, it
-long is low water on the opposite side of that parallel ; and the same is
,pi:riod. true, of the southern hemisphere. It is oest to adopt, a uniform
system for the whole earth, and to'rcgani jugh iiu« and nign water
as consentaneous in tho enuatorml belt, aud of opposite meanings
outside of the critical latitudti. We hero conceive the function
always to be written J - sin- X, so that outside of tho critical lati-
tudes high tide is low water. We may in continuing the develop-
ment write the jE-g-H functions in the form appropriate to the
e(|uilibiium theory, with water covering the whole earth ; for the
i*-tual case it is only then necessary to multiply by the reducing
r.ictor, and to subtract tho phase alteration k. As these are un-
known constants for each place, they would only occur in the
development as symbols of quantities to be deduced from observa-
tion. It will be understood, therefore, that in the following
schedules the "argument" is that part of the argument which is
derived from theory, the true complete argument being the'*' argu-
ment" '■ K, where k is derived from observation.'
XJp to this point wc )iave supposed the moon's longitude and tha
earth's position to be measured from the intersection ; but in ordei
to pass to tlie ordinary astronomical formal;^ we must measure the
longit-ude and the earth's position from the vernal equinox. Hence
we determine the longitude and right ascension of the intersection
in terms of tho longitude of the moon's no<le and the inclination of
the lunar orbit, and introduce them into our formula; for the 3E-J0-2
functions. , The expressions for the functions corresponding** to
solar tides may be written down by symmetry, and m tliis case the
int<!rsection is actually the vernal equinox.
The final result of tho process sketch»;d \3 to obtain a series of Explana-
termd ea-'h of which is a function of the elements of the moort's or tion of
sun's orbit, and a function of the terrestrial latitude of the place of schedules
observation, multiplied by the cosine of an angle which inci cases below.
uniformly with the time. We shall now write down thn result in
the form of a schedule ; but wc mu.st firtt state the notation em-
ployed : — e, c^— -eccentricities of lunar and solar orbits ; /, w = oh-
liquities of cquaior to lunar orbit and ecliptic; p,/>, = longitudes of
lunar and solar perigees ; ci,a, = hourly increments of;?, ;», ; s, A =
moon's and suns mean .longitudes ; tr, i;- hourly increnunts of «,
A; i = local mean solar time reduced to anglB ; 7 - t?= 15" pcrhour;
X=latitndc of placo of observation ; ^, i' = longitude in lu:iar orbit,
and ICA. of tne intersection ; A''=lon^tiidc of moori's node ; i=.
inclination of lunar orbit. Tho speed of any tide is ile^nicd as the Speed
rate of increase of its argument, and is expressible, thcnfore, as defined.
a linear ftinction 'of y, »;, a, cr ; for wc may neglect o, as being very
small.
The followyig schedules, then, give h tho height of tide. Th<
arrangement is as follows. First, there is a universal coefficient
^-jJ-) a, which multiplies every term of all the schedules. Secondly,
there arc general coefficients, on-t for each schedule, viz., cos- X for
the semi-diurnal terms, sin 2\ for the diurnal, and J- | sm^X fo*
the terms of long period. In each schedule the third column,
headed "coefTicieiit,' gives tho functions of /and c(and in twoc.tses
also of;?). In the fourth column is given the mean sciui-rangc of
the corresponding term in numbers, which is appiO,\imately tlie
v.alue of the coeflicient in the first column when / = w ; but we pasa
over the explanation of tlie mode of computing the valnes. Tlw
fifth (olumn contains arguments linear functions oC^/iiS,;',*-,?. In
[A, i.] 2t + 2{h-v) and in [A, ii J t + {h-v) are common to all the
arguments. The arguments are grouped i)» a manner <;onvcnient
for subsecjuent computation. Lastly, the sixth is a column of
speeds, being the hourly increase of the arguments in the preceding
column, estimated in degrees per hour. It has been found practi-
cally convenient to denote each of these partial tides by an initial
letter, nrbittaiily ohosen. In the first column we give a descriptive
name for "the tide, and in tho second the arbitrarily chosen initial.
In somo cases no initijd has been chosen, and here wo indicate
tho tide by the analytical expression for its speed, or hourly increase
of argument
The schedule for the solar tides is drawn up in precisely the same
manner, the only difference being that the coefficients are absolute
constants. The eccentricity of the solar orbit is so. small that the
elliptic tides may he omitted, except the larger elliptic semi-
diurnal tide. In order that the comparison of the importance of
the solar tides with the lunar may be complete, the same universal.
coeflicient ^irA ) « is retained, and the special coefficient for e^ch
term is made to involve tho factor -'. Here t, = 5--j, m, being tbi^
sun's mass. With
^(=81 5;^;== -46035 = ,-,^.^^.
To write down any term, take tho univei-sal coefficient, the Mode of
general coefficient for the class of jtides, the special coefficient^ and reading ■
multijjly by the cosine of the argument. The result, taken with schedulei
the positive sign, is a term in the equilibrium tide, with water cxidaioeij.
covering the whole earth. The transition to the actual caso by
the introduction of a factor and a delay of phase (to be derives ,
from observation) has been already explained. The sura of all tho ■
terms is the complete expression for tho height of tido h.
TIDES
365
Schedule of Liuiar Tides
[A, i.]— Universal Coefficients .^ \f\~)"-
Semi-diurnal Tides ; General Coelficient^cos-X.
Descrip-
tive Name.
f^DCipal
lQO:ir.
LuQi -solar
(lunar
portioo).
Lamr •
elliptic.
Bmiller
elliplic'
Elliptic.
second
order.
Urger
BvectionaI2
Bmaller
evectioDaL
Varia-
Uooal.*
Ks
}.J«os<l/»
(l-12tn»L»s(2p-2$)j i
■01173
■01 234 s
01706
■001763
00330
00730'
01094
Argument
21+2(ft->.)
-2(»-f)
SO' 0821372
-«(J-f)-(j-p)
-2(j-{)+(s-p)-B+»
where
UiiR = .
6sin2(p-{)
colsi;-6cos'2(p-{)
-2(.-f)-2(.-p)
-2<i-?>+(»-P)-f2A-2J
-2(s-f;-(s-p)-2A+2s+T
-2()-$) + 2ft-2>
Speed in
Degrees
per rn.s.
Hour.
29"-4556254
:7*-9662084
[A,
ii.]— Diurnal Tides ; General Coefficient = sin 2X.
Descrip-
tive Name.
Initial
Coefficient.
ill
Argumeut
l+ih-y).
Speed in
Degrees
per m 8.
Hour.
Lunar di-
urnal.
y■^M.
Luni-solar
(lunar poi
tion).
Larger
elliptic
Smaller
elliptic*
y+ff-o.
EllipUc,
second
order.
Evectional
0
00
K.
Q
Ml
J
7-4<;+2t»
7-3(T-o+27;
l-5«2Hsin7cos2j;
(l-te>)i sin/sin');
(l-l-Je-Hiiin/cos/
(e.istD/cos-|/
e.Jsln/cos'J/x
v')! + Jcos2(p-|)i
{^^sio/cos/
Ve'.isin;cos5j;
WnK.Jsio/cosS!/
■18S56
■0OS12
18115
03651
00522«
01649
■01485
00187
00512'
00708
-2(s-f)+iJr
■(-2(s-0-jir
-!"■
-2(5-f)-(5-p)
+ Jr
-(J-fHQ-iir
where UiiQ
= JUn(p-0
-KJ-i')-lT
-2(j-f)-2(5-p)
+!"■
-2(..-f)+(s-p)
+ 2/i-2«+i7r
^•■9430356
16'139I016
15'041O6S6
13* 398660°
14--4920521
15*5854433
12*-8542862
I3-471514.I
[A, iii.]— Long Period Tides ; General Coefficient J - §sin'\
Descrip-
tive Name.
Initial-
Coemcient
iii
Argument
Speed in De-
grees per m.s.
Hour
Change or
mean level.
Monthly.
Evectional
monthly.
Luni-solar
fort-
nightly."
Fort-
nightly
Ter-
mensual.
Mm
ff-3»7-t-0
MSf
Mf
3r-CT
(l-fjc2)l(l-;sin';)
3<.J(l-isinS;)
V^-Wl-Jni"^')
3mSJ(l-jsin2/)
\t.isia'l
■252248
04136
-005809
•00755
■004229
■00621
•07827
■01516
Of variable
partisN.the
long, of node
s-p
1 -C-P)
1 -f2j--2ft
2(I-M
2(»-fl
(«-r)-4-2(»-e)
19'^34 per annum
0"^5443747
0"-471521I
r0158958
r 0980330
f6424077
1 Fused with 2-y- (7 -f-o.
- wi is the ratio of tlie moon's mean motion to the sun's.
3 Irr these three entries the lower number gives Ihe value when the co-
efficients of the evection and variation have their full values asdenved from
lunar theory.
* Indicated by SMS as a compound tide (see below. § 24).
* A fusion of 7-<r±CT, of which the latter is the tide named.
• The upper Dumber is the meao value of the coeffi<?if nt of the tide 7 - ff - CT ;
the lower applies to the tide Mj, compounded from the tides y-a-js and
■y-ff + CJ.
? The lower number gives the value when the coefTicieDtsin the evection have
Uieir full value as derived from lunar theory.
8 The mean value of this coefficient is 4<]-(-;f2)(i _ 53in2i)(l -}3iDiiai)= -25,
and the variable part is approximately -(l-t-je^) sin i cost sinw c08WCO8JV=
-■0328 cos N.
• The lower of these two numbers gives the value when the coeflicienta
in the evection ana variation have their full values aa derived from lunar
theory.
10 Indicated by MSf as a compound tide.
[K]Schedule 0/ Solar Tides.
Solar Tides ; Universal Coefficient=rt — (-)<*•
2 m\cj
Descriptive
Name.
"3
a
Coefficient.
= 1
n
Argu-
ment
Speed in
Degrees
per in.-s.
Hour.
[i.]— Semi-diurnal Tides ; General Coefficient=:ros'' V |
Principal
Sa
f(l-S<.»)Jcos«iu
■21137
2(
30" 0000000
Luni-solar
(solar por-
tion).
K2
l(l + it?)isiui(i
■01823
21-1-24
30" 0821372
Larger el-
liptic.
T
^■J!e.C03-liu [01243
21 -d -p.)
■29'9589314
[ii.] — Diurnal Tides ; General Coefficients sin 2X. |
bolar diur-
nal
P
-'^'(1 -!«,')! sin ucosSJu
■08775
l-K+iw
14'95S93I4
Lunisolar
(solar por-
tion).
K,
^'(l-^^«.^isinulCOsal
■08407
t + h-iTT
15" 04 10686
[iii.]— Long Period Tides ; General Coefficient = 2 - 4 sin^ X.
i^nuLr^' l^^l f<l-i«.*)isin2u |03643| 2h | 0'0S21272
Scale oE
import-
ance of
tides.
From the fourth columns we see that the coefBcients in de-
scending order of magnitude are Mj, K, (both combined), S^,
0, Ki (lunar), N, P, K, (solar), Kj (both combined), Kj (lunar), Mf,
y, Mm, Kj (solar), Ssa, c, M„ J, L, T, 2N, m, 00, 3<r - a,
y - 3(7 - tj + 2-ij, y- 4J-^2^, ff- 2i;-l-!3, 2(it- i;), X.
The tides depending on the fourth power ol the moon's parallax
arise from the potential V = -j-/r'(5cos'2- i cosz). They give rise
to a small diurnal tide M,, and to a small ter-diurnal tide M, ; but
we shall not give the analytical development
§ 24. ildearological Tides, Over- Tides, and Compound Tides.
All tides whose period is an exact multiple or suhmultiple of a Meteoro.
mean solar day, or of a tropical year, are affected by meteorological logical
conditions. Thus sU the tides of the principal solar astronomical tides,
series S, with speeds y-ri, 2(y-7)), 3(7-11), ic, arc subject to
more or less meteorological perturbation. An annual inequality in
the diurnal meteorological tide S, will also give rise to a tide 7- 27;,
and this will be fused with and indistinguishable from the astro-
nomical P ; it will also give rise to a tide with speed y, which «ill
be indistinguishable from the astronomical part of K,. Similarly
the astronomical tide K^ may be perturbed by a semi-annual in-
equality in the semi-diurnal astronomical tide of speed 217-1)).
Although the diurnal elliptic tide S, 01 -y - 1) and the senii-anniial
and annual tides of speeds '27) and ijaie all probably quite insensible
as arising from astronomical causes, yet they have been found of
sufficient importance to be considered The annual and scmi
annual tides are of enormous importance in some rivers, representing
in fact the yearly flooding in the rainy season. In the reduction
of these tides the arguments of the S series are (, 2l, 3(, ic. and of
the annual, semi-annual, ter-annual tides h, 2A, 3A. As far as can
be foreseen, the magnitudes of these tides are constant from year
to year.
We have in § 21 considered the dynamical theory of over-tides. Over-
The only tides of this kind in which it has hitherto been thought tide»^
necessary to represent the change of form in shallow water belong
to the principal lunar and principal solar series. Thus, besides the
fundamental astronomical tides M, and S.„ the over-tides M,. Mj. Mg,
and S4. S5 have been deduced by harmonic analysis The height
of the fundamental tide M, varies from year to year, according to
the variation in the obliquity of the lunar orbit, and this variability
is represented by the coefficient cos* J/. It is probable that the
variability of M^ M,, Mg will be represented by the square, cube,
and fourth power of that coefficient, and theory (§ 21) indicates that
we should make the argument of the over-tide a multiple of the
argumeut of the fundamental, with a constant subtracted.
Compound tides have been also considered dynamically in § 21. Com- •
By combining the speeds of the iniportant tides, it wUI be found that pound
there is in many cases a compound tide which has itself a speed tides,
identical with that of an astronomical or meteorological tide. We
thus find that the tides 0, K,, Mm, P. Mj, Mf, Q, M„ L are liable
to perturbation in shallow waUr. If either or both the component
tides are of lunar origin, the height of the compound tide will
change from year to year, and will probably vary proportionally
to the product of the coefficients of the component tides. For the
purpose of properly reducing the numerical value of the compound
tides, we require not merely the speed, but also the argument
The following schedule gives the adopted initials, argumeut. and
speed of the principal compound tides. The coefficients »r« the
products of those of the two tides to be compounded.
■366
TIDES
[C. ]—Sdicdule of Compound Tidei
.
! Initials.
Arguments com-
bined
Speed.
Speed in Degrees
per in. 3. Huur
ME
M3
Msr
2M£
UN
23M
2HS
Mj+K,
Jlj-O
Ma+S,
S, -Mj
Mj+O
Mj-K,
Sj+K,
Ma+N
S,+0
8,-0
Si-Mj
M2+S4
M4-Sj
3-,.-2(T
*y-2ll-f!l
20- -2i)
3^-40
3^,-211
4Y-5(r+o
3y-2a-n
V+2ir-27)
2-y+2ir-4T)
&7 - 2(J - 4j7
27-4ir+27j
6y-i<r-'in
44--0251T28
68'-9S410J2
r-0158958
42'-9271398
45'-04100S6
sr ■4238338
43'-9430356
16*-0569644
3f-0158968
68'-9841042
27- -9682084
87'-96S2084
Final
form
tidal
con-
■Ktauts.
"§25 On the F<mn. of PrescTUation of lUsuUs of Tidal Observations.
Smm»- Supposing n to be the speed of any tide in-degreea per mean solar
diate re- hour, and t to be mean solar time elapsing since 0** of the 6rst day
suit of of (say) a year of continuous observation, then the immediate result
Jiirmouic of harmonic analysis is to obtain A and B, two heights (estimated
analysis, in feet and tenths) such that the height of this tidQ at the time t
13 given by A cos tU + B sin tU. If we put B=\/{A* + B') and
Ian f^B/A, then the tide is represented by
K cos {nt - t)-
In this form R is the semi-range of the tide in Britisb feet, and
f is an angle such that f/n is the time elapsing after 0*» of the first
day until it is high water of thi« particular tide. It is obvious
that f may have any value from 0 to 360% and that the results
of the analysis of successive years of observation will not be com-
parable with one another when presented in this form.
But let us suppose that the results of the analysis are presented
in a number of terms of the form
fHcos(J:+u-*r),
where f is a linear function of the moon'a and sun's mean longi-
tudes, the mean longitude of the moon's and sun's perigees, and
the local mean solar time at the place of observation, reduced to
angle at 15* per hour. K increases uniformly with the time, and
its rate of increase per mean solar hour is the n of the first method,
and is called the speed of the tide. It is supposed that u standa
for a certain function of the longitude of the node of the lunar
orbit at an epoch half a year later than O** of the first day. Strictly
-■speaking, u should be taken as the same function of the longitude
•of the moon's node, varying as the node moves ; but, as the varia-
tion is but small in the course of a year, u may be treated as a
-constant and put equal to an average value for the year, which
.nvcrage value is taken as the true value of u at exactly mid year
Together F + u constitute that function which has been tabulated
SiS the "argument" lu the schedules of § 23. Since F+u are to-
^ether the whole argument according to the equilibrium theory of
lides. with sea covering the whole earth, it follows that x/n is the
lagging of the tide which arises from kinetic action, friction of the
-water, imperfect elasticity of the earth, and the distribution of land.
It IS supposed that H is the mean value in British feet of the
senn-range of the particular tide in question ; f is a numerical
factor of augmcntatioD or diminution, due to the variability of
the obliquity of the lunar orbit- The value of f is the ratio of the
"coefficient" in the third column of the preceding schedules to the
mean value of the same term For example, for all the solar tides
f is unity, and for the pnncipa] lunar tide M, it is equal to
cos* J/H-cos*iw coS*^i, for the mean value of this term has a
coefficient cos* Jw cos* ji- It is obvious, then, that, if the tidal
observations are consistent from year to year, H and k should come
3Ut the same from each year's reductions. It is only when the
results are presented in such a form as this that it will be possible
to judge whether the harmonic analysis is yielding satisfactory
results. This mode of giving the tidal results is also essential
for the uSe of a tide-predicting machine (see § 38).
"We must now show how to determine H and k from R and f. It
'is clear that H = R/f, and the determination of f from the schedules
■depends on the evaluation of the mean value of each of the terms
in the schedules, into which we shall not enter. If Kobe the value
Df V at 0*» of the first day. then clearly
- i-=r Ko + « - IC.
«o tha; k = ^+Vq + v-
Thus the ruie for the determination oficis: Add to the value of
^ the valiu of the argument at 0^ of the first day.
Tida! The results of harmonic analysis are usually tabulated by giving
con- H, K under the initial letter of each tide ; the results are thus
tftaots. comparable from year to year' For the purpose of using the tide-
predicting machine the process of determining H and k from R and
1 See, for oxwnple, a collection of results by Baird and Darwin, Proc. Boy. ^—-,
f has simply to be reversed, with the difference that the instant of
time to which to refer the argument is 0** of the first day of the
new year, and we must take note of the different value of u and f
for the new year. Tables '•' have been computed for f and u for
all longitudes of the moon's node and for each 'kind of tide, and
the mean longitudes of moon, sun, and lunar perigee may be ex-
tracted from any ephemens. Thus when the mean semi-range H
and retardation k of any tide are known its height may be com-
puted for any instant. The sum of the heights for ail the principal
tides of course gives the actual height of water.
§ 26. Numerical Barmomc Analysis for Tides of Short Period.
The tide-gauge (described below, § 36) furnishes us with a con- Treat -
tinuous graphical record of the height of the water above some meat of
known datum mark for every instant of time. The first operation tide
performed on the tidal record is the measurement m feet and deci-torves
mals of the height of water above the datum at every mean solar
hour. The period chosen for analysis is about one year and the
first measurement corresponds to noon. ^
If T be the period of any one of the diurnal tides, or the doubk
period of any oue of the semi-diurnal tides, it approximates mon. *
or less nearly to 24 m.s. hours> and, if we divide it into twenty-
four equal parts, we may speak of each as a T-hour. We shall foe
brevity refer to mean solar time as S-time. Suppose, now, ihaH
we have two clocks, each marked with 360'' 24 hours, and that
the hand of the first, or ti-clock, goes round once in 24 S-houra,
and that of the second, orT-clock, goes round once in twenty-four
T-hours, and suppose that the two clocks are started at 0° or 0*
at noon of the initial day. For the sake of distinctness, let na
imagine that aT^hour is longer than an Srhonr, so that the T-clock
goes slower than the S-clock. The measurements of the tide curva
give us the height of water exactly at each S-hour ; and it is re-
quired from these data to determine the height of water at each
T-hour. For this end we are, m fact, instructed to count T-time,
but are only allowed to do so by reference to S-time, and, moreover.
the time is always to be specified as an integral number of hours.
Commencing with 0^ of the first day, we begin counting 0, 1, 2,
&c, as the T-hand comes up to its hour-marks. But, as the S-hana
gains on the T-hand, there will come a time when, the T-band
being exactly at the;? hour-mark, the S-hand is nearly as far as
p + ^. When, however, the T-hand has advanced to thep-t-l hour-
mark, the S-hand will be a little beyond p-f 1 + i, — that is to say,
a little less than half an hour before p + Z Counting, then, ia
T-time by reference to S-time, we jump from p to p + 2. The
counting will go on continuously for a number of hours nearly
equal to 2p, and then another number will be dropped, and so oa
throughout the whole year. If it had been the T-haud whic^
went faster than the S-hand, it is obvious that one number would
be repeated at two successive hours instead of one being droppei
We may describe each such process as a "change"
Now, if we have a sheet marked for entry of heights of water Method
according to T-hours from results measured at S-hours. we mustof euuly
enter thoS-measurements continuously up top, and we then com« w.
to a change ; dropping one of the S-senes, we go on again continu-
ously until another change, when another is dropped ; and so on.
Since a change occurs at the time when a T-hour falls almost
exactly halfway between two S-hours, it will be more accurate at
a change to insert the two S-entnes which fall on each side rf
the truth. If this be done the whole of the S-series of measure-
ments is entered en the T-sheet. Similarly, if it be the T-band
which goes faster than the S-hand, we may leave a gap in the
T-series instead of duplicating an entry. For the analysis of tbf
T-tide there is therefore prepared a sheet arranged in rows and
columns ; each row corresponds to one T-day, and the columns are
marked 0*", !*»,... 23'*; the 0"s may be called T-noons. A dot
is put in each space for entry, and where there is a change two
dots are put if there is to be a double entry, and a bar if there la
to be no entry. ^ The numbers entered in each column are summed ;
the results are then divided, each by the proper divisor for its column,
and thus the mean value for that column is obtained. In this way
-4 numbers are found which give the mean height of water at each
of the 24 special hours. It is obvious that if this process were con-
tinued over a very long time we should in the end extract the tide
under analysis from amongst all the others ; but. as the process
only extends over about a year, the elimination of the others is not
quite complete. The elimination of the effects of the other tides
may be improved by choosing the period for analysis not exactly
equal to one year.
Let us now return to our general notation, and consider the 2C
mean values, each pertaining to the 24 T-hours. We suppose that
all the tides except the T-tide arc adequately eliminated, and, in
fact, a computation of the necessary corrections for the absence
of complete elimination, which is given in the Tidal Report to the
British Association in 1872, shows that thi^ is the case. It is
* Krixrrt on Harmonic Analysis to Brit. Assoc, 1883, and moi-e extek.Jed taW^
in Baird'a Manual of Tidal Observation, London, 1887.
■ * A sample page is given in the Report to the Brit. Absoc., ^SS3.
TIDES
367
Ntcts- obTious tint any one of the 24 values docs not give the true height
siljr for of the T-tidc at (hit T-hour, but gives the average height of the
lugmtot- water, as due to tlie T-tide, estimated over half a T-liour before
!!>£ fac- and half a Thour after that hour. A consideration of this point
tnez. sliows that certain augmenting factors, dilfeiing sliglitly from
unity, must be applied. In the reduction of tlic i>-serics of tides,
the numbers treated are the actual heights of the water exactly at
the S hours, and therefore no augmenting factor is requisite.
We must now explain how the harmonic analysis, which the use
of these fectors presupposes, is carried out.
If I denotes T-time expressed ic T-hours, and n is 15', we express
the height h, as given by the averaging process above explained,
by the formula
h = A, + A,cosn< + B, sinni + A2Cos2s< + B,sin2Br + . . .,
where C is 0. 1, 2, . . 23. Theu, if S denotes summation of the
scries of 24 terms found by attributing to t its 24 values, it is
obvious that
Analysu A,= ,', Sh; A| = ,>,2hcosn« ; 6, = ^, Shsin a/ ;
A; = t'j 2:hcos2>ti ; B, = ,4 Zhsin2«« ; kc, ic.
5<ince n is 15° and 1 is an integer, it foUou-s that all the cosines
and sines involved in these series are equal to one of the following,
vi2.,0, ±sinl5°, ±sin30°, ±sin 45°, ±5in60°, ±sin75°, ±1. It is
found convenient to denote these sines by 0, ±S„±Sb±Sj, ±S,,
±S,.±1. The multiplication of the 24 h's by the various S's and
the subsequent additions may be arf^ng^ 'n a very neat tabular
form, like that given in a Report to the British Association in 1SS3.
The A's and B's having been thus deduced, we have R =
%/(A*+ B'). R must then oe multiplied by the augmenting factor.
We thus have the augmented R. Next the angle whose tangent
is B/A gives f. The addition to f of the appropriate y^^ + u gives
«, and the multiplication of R by the appropriate 1/f gives H. The
reduction is then complete. An actual numerical example of
harmonic analysis is given in the Aduiiraliy ScUntific Manual {iSS6)
In the article "Tides" ; but the process there employed is slightly
different from the above, because the series of observations is sup-
posed to be a short one.
§ 27. Harvumic Analysis /or Tida of Long Period.
Tkles of For the purpose of determining the tides of long period we have
3oBg to eliminate the oscillations of water-level arising from the tides of
2<«nud. short perio<l. As the quickest of these tides has a period of many
days, the height of mean water at one instant for each day gives
sufficient data. Thus there will in a year's observations be 365
heights to be submitted to harmonic analysis. To Bnd the daily
mean for any day we take the arithmetic mean of 24 consecutive
hourly values, btginning with the height at noon. This height
will then apply to the middle instant of the period from 0'' to 23'',
— that is to say, to 11 1" 30° at night. The formation of a daily
mean does not obliterate the tidal oscillations of short period, be-
cause none of the tides, except those of the principal solar scries,
have commensurable periods in mean solar time. A small correc-
tion, or " clearance of the daily mean," has therefore to be applied
for all the important tides of short period, except for the solar tides.
Passing by this clearance, we next take the 365 daily means, and
find their mean value. This gives the mean height of water for
the year. We next subtract the mean height from each of the 365
values, and find 365 quantities 6h, giving the daily height of water
above the mean height These quantities are to be the subject of
the harmonic analysis, and the tides chosen for evaluation are those
which have been denoted above as Mm, Mf, MSf, Sa, Ssa.
Uirmo- Let 4h = A cos (a - c)£-(- B sin (ir - o)< \
Vitally •fCcos2<r« +D sm'lat I
«alysed. -fCcos2(ff-.;y-HD'sin2((T-i7)< V (73X
-I- E cos i)< +f 5iai)l I
•♦■G cos2i)« -hH sin2i)< /
where ( is time measured from the first ll"" 30"". If we multiply
the 365 oh"s by 365 values of cos (a--n)l and effect the summation,
the coefficients of B,C.D, ic, are very small, and that of A is nearly
182J. Similarly, multiplying by sin (<r- Ej)i, C03 2ff(, ic., we obtain
10 equations for A,B,C, it, in each of which one coefficient is nearly
1824 and the rest small. These equations are easily solved by
successive approximation. In this. way A,B,C, ic, are found,
and afterwards the clearance to which we have alluded is applied.
Finally the cleared A,B,C, ic, are treated exactly as were the
components of the tides of short period. Special forms and tables
have been prepared for facilitating these operations.
V. SYSTanTic Method.
§ 28. On the Method and Notation.
SyBthetic The general nature of the synthetic method has been already
cLetbod. explained ; we now propose to develop the expressions for the tide
from the result as expressed in the harmonic notation. If it should
be desired to make a comparison of the results of tidal observation
as expressed in the synthetic method with those of the harmonic
method, or the converse, or to'compute a tide-table from the ha~-
monic constants by reference to the moon's transits and from t*"»
declinations and parallaxes of sun and moon, the analytical ex-
pressions of the following sections arc necessarv.
In chapter iv. the mean semi-range and angle of retardation or
lag of any one of the tides have been denoted by H and •. We
shall licie, however, require to introduce several of the Hs and «'3
into the same expression, and they must therelore be distinguished
from one another. This may in general be conveniently done by
writing as a subscript letter the initial of the corresponding tide ;
for example H„, k^ will be taken to denote the H and < of the
principal lunar tide M,. This natation does not suit the K, and
k, tides, and we shall therefore write H", «' for the semi-diurnal
Kj, and H', «' for the diurnal K, tide. These two tides proceed
according to sidereal time and arise from the sun and moon jointly,
and a synthesis of the two parts of cich is effected in the harmonic
method, although that synthesis 'S not explained in chapter iv.
The ratio of the solar to the lunar part of the total K, tide is 46407 ;
hence -633 H" is the lunar portion of the total K, There will be
no occasion to separate the two portions of K„ and we shall retain
the synthesis which is effected in the harmonic method.
§ 29. ScmiDiurnal Tides.
The process adopted is to replace the mean longitudes and ele-
ments of the orbit m each term of the harmonic development of the
schedules of § 23 by hour-angles, declinations, and parallaxes.
At the time t (mean solar time of port reduced to angle) let
o, 5, ^ be J's R.A., decimation, and hour-angle, and I h's longitude
measured from the "intersection." These and other symbols when
wTitten with subscript accent are to apply to the sun. Then r
being the R.A. of the intersection, we have from the right-angled
spherical triangle of which the sides are I, S, a-r the relations
tan(a-») = cos/ tan/, sin J = sin /sin i (74).
Now J - £ IS the I's mean longitude measured from the intersectioQ
and s-p is the mean anomaly ; hence approximately
l=3-( + 2esm{s-p) (75).
From (74) and (75) we have approximately
a = J -I- (f - {) -h 2< sin (s -;)) - Un' J/sin 2(j - ().
Now, h being the O's mean longittide, (-i-A is the sidereal hour-
angle, and ^ = C + h-a.
Hence
(■^-A-J-(»-f) = ^-^2<Sln{s-p)-tan»j/siIl2(J-|) (76).
Again, if we put
cos'ii = l-5sin'/ (77),
we have approximately from (74) and (75)
cos'5 - cos-A -v
r^rr =C0s2(S-{) I
sinacosSrfS „, „ f ('*>•
whence — tt- -y- = Sia2t.s-i) I
asm-A dt J
Obviously A is such a declination that sin- A is the mean value of
sin' 5 during a lunar month. Again, if P be the ratio of the I's
parallax to her mean parallax, the equation to the ellipse described
Mean
longi-
tude and
eleaKiita
replaced
by koBT-
angle.
decliaa-
tion, ami
paraUax.
J(P-l)=cos(j-p)|
' '"' , > I-
..(79X
gives
whence
Now it appears in schedule A of 5 23 that the arguments of all
the lunar semi. diurnal tides arc of the form :i;' + A - i')±2(3-{) or
±{s-p). It IS clear, therefore, that the cosines ol such angles may
by the relations (76), (78), (79) be expressed in terms of hour-angles,
declinations, and parallaxes. Also Dy means of (77) we may intro-
duce A in place of / lu the coefficients of each term. An approri-
mate formula for A is 16° 51 ■^3° 44 co» A'-0°19 cos 2.iV. In the
Report to the British Associatwn for 1885, the details of the processes
indicated are given.
Before giving tho fonnnla it must be remarked that the result
is expressed more succinctly by the introduction of the symbol J*
to denote the It's declination at a time earlier than that of observa-
tion by an interval which may be called the "age of the declina-
tiojial inequality," and is computed from the formula tan («"- «„)/2<r
or 52'' 2 tan (it"-!,,). Similarly, it is convenient to introduce F
to denote the value of /" at a time earlier than that of observation
by the "age of the parallactic inequality," to be computed from
tan (it„ -«„)/(»- o) or 105'''3 tan («■>-«„). These two "ages"
probably do not differ in general much from a third period, com-
puted from («, - <i,)/2((r - 1)), which is called the "age of the tide."
The similar series of ttansformatious when applied to the solar
tides leads to simpler results, because A, is a constant, being 16°*33,
and the "ages" may be treated as zero , besides the terms depend-
ing on dSjdl and dPJdl are negligible. If now we denote by h|
the height of water with reference to mean water-mark, in so far
as the height is affected by the harmonic tides M, S^ K^ N, L,
T, R,' the harmonic expression is trani^formed into
• R 13 the smaUer solar elliptic tide beariog the sarae relation to T that L
does to ^ amoD'-- 1 the lunar tides. It was omitted as uaiinportant lo scbeduJ'
Agerf
dediiia-
tioafil
aud p.«-
raUacti4
correc
368
Total
Etemi-
diurnal
tide.
One solar
and one
lunar
term.
TIDES
cos' A
" cos" A,
COSTS'
+
„cos(2f-0 + H,cos(2i(',
"™*''^-683H"cos(2v[.-0
".)
siir A,
- 5, - cos- A,
sill- A,
^•317H"cos(2vt, -O
a sin- A,
cos-
T-
cos- A,
cos (k" - K
cos Kn
■ H, cos K,
; I sin
■H„tan=A, sin'{2^-/c,
C0s(2i^-e)
+ {^,-l)
H, - H,
is«A
dP/dt r
4H„c-
cos(2^^,-*r,)
H„ H,
■jjsin(2il.-
/t,»)(80),
'«cos- A, (ir - D)L'"""' cos(v„-it„) COS/ti-H,
where e is aii auxiliary angle defined by
H^sinir -Hisiniri ,„
t3ne = ,-i " — 7j (81).
H„ COS /t„ - Hi cos Ki
The first two terms are the principal tides, and the physical origin
of the remaining small terms, is indicated by their involving S', d„
ihjdt, P, P„ dFjdt. The terms in dSjdt and dPjdt are generally
smaller than the others. • «^ .
The approximation may easily be carried further..: rBut the above
is in some respects a closer approximation than the erpreseion from
which it is derived, since the hour-angles, declinatiqns, and paral-
laxes necessarily involve all the lunar and solar ine'ijualities.
§30.
Coni-
nlenco-
nient of
j:\Tithesi3.
Syntliescs of Solar and of Lunar Porlions of (he
Semi-Diurtial Tide.
Let us write
cos- 5' -cos- A -r.oTT" / ff X
■••C83H cos («-«„)
M='^-°?.:-t-n,„
cos- A,
cos- A
cos- A,
cos- 6'
sin" A,
H„ cos (f„ - Hj cos Ki
ccose
•cos- A
(/'-D'-i?-
C03(e -»„);■
• 683 H"sin (<"-«„)
cos- A
cos* A,
sin 5 cos 5 rf5
{/v.i,H,,cos«,
5rf5 r
' d(. Lc
ccosc
683 H"
Hicosiri . ,
•sin(«-
M,=H,-H
A J , — T7'„---i-H„Un'A,"|
ffSin-A, di Lcos(/c -k,„) J
e cos" A, (T - ra L cos (/t,
cos's -cos" A,
H,
Hj
sin" A,
'•317H''+(/',-l)
fn)"
H,-
cos (it, - K„) .
--(SS).
Since observation and theory agi'ee in showing that k" is generally
very nearly equal to n,, we are justified in substituting if, for i^ in
the small solar dcclinatioual term of f80) involviug -317 H". Then,
using (82) in (80), . .
h,=Mcos2(\^-M)-l-M,cos2(f,-M,) (83).
tf the equilibrium theory of tides were true, each 11 would be pro-
portional to the corresponding term in the harmonically developed
potential. This proportionality holds nearly between tides of almost
the same speed ; hence, using the expressions in the column of co-
efficients in schedule [B, i. 1, § 23 (with the additional tide R there
omitted, but having a coefficient (t,/7-)J.<c, cos'Jw, found by sym-
metry with the lunar tide L), and introducing A, in place of u in
the solar tides, we may assume the truth of the proportion
sin- A,
H,-H,
= H..,
With this assumption, M, reduces to
,, cos" 5, ,_ -, „ ,,TT cos"5,„ ^
M. = rrTTxH, + 3(/'.-l)H. = -;^H,ll-fj(i',-i)J.
Hence M, = P,^
cos- A.
cos" 5,
cos'- A,
^11...
,...(84).
' cos" A.
This is the law which we should have derived directly from the
equilibrium tlieory, with the hypothesis that all solar semi-diurnal
tides SMiIer nearly equal retardation. Save for meteorological influ-
ences, this must certainly bo true.
A similar synthesis of M cannot be carried out, because the con-
siderable diversity of speed amongst the lunar tides makes a similar
appeal to the equilibrium theory incorrect. It may be seen, how-
ever, that it would be more correct to write cos" 5' instead of cos" A
in the coefficient of the parallactic terms in M and 2m.
The three terms of M in (82) give the height of lunar tide with its
declinational and parallactic corrections, and similarly the fonpula
for IJL. in (82) gives its value and corrections.
If now T deJiotcs the mean, solar time elapsing since the moon's
upper transit and 7 the angular Telocity of the eailh's rotation,
kt >s clear that tlje moon's hour-angle
^ = (7-rfa/rfO'-;
and, siBce Mcos2(^-/») is a maximum when ^=Mor differs froir
li by 180°, it follows that inKy-dajiit) is the "interval" from the
moon's upper or lower transit to high water of the lunar tide. Since
T is necessarily less than 12^, we may during the interval from transit
to high water take as an approximation da/dt = a, the moon's mean
motion.' Hence that interval is )il(y-<r), or ^ip hours nearly,
when II is expressed in degrees. Thus (82)"for fi. gives by its first
term the mean interval for the lunar tide, and by the Bubseqaent
terms the declinational and parallactic corrections.
We have said that the synthesis of M cannot be carried out as Approxi*
in the case of M,, but the partial synthesis below will give fairly mate
good results. The proposed formula is lonnuli.
cos"J'-cos-A ,.„ „„ ,, ,
■683H C03(lt -Km);
M=i-,3£2^H,
2m =
K„+-
cos" A, " sin" A.
cos" 5' - cos' A
sin" A,
.•683 H" sin («"-«„) ;
' cos^ A, '
2m, = k, (85).
These formula have been used in the example of the computation
of a tide-table given in the Admiralty Scientific Manual (1886).
§ 31. Synihesia of Lunar and Solar Semi-Diumal Tida,
Let A be the excess of I's orer O's R.A., so that
A = o - a,, \
Vf',=V'+A, - \ (8«).
and hj=M cos-2(\J' - m) -H M, cos 2(f + A - m,) )
The synthesis is then completedby writing
H cos 2(m -<P) = M + M, cos 2( a - m, -h /»)■
Hsin2(>x-<?)= M,sin2(A-Ai,-HM),
sothat' h,=Hco3 2((!'-#) (87).
Then H is the height of the total semi-diurnal tide and 0/(7 - dajdl
or <f>l{y - c) or ^ <p, when (p is given in degrees, is the "interval '
from the moon's transit to high water.
The formulae for H and ^ may be writt«n .
H = V I M' -1- K' + 2MM, cos 2(A - M, +.^^» 1
tan2(;.-^) = ,i|HMziVtf- [ m
^ ^' M + M,co3 2(A-Ai,+/i) }
Tliey may be reduced to a form adapted for logarithmic calculation.
Since A goes through its period in a lunation, it follows that H
and ^ have inequalities with a period of half a lunation. These
are called the "fortnightly or semi-menstrual inequalities" in the
height and interval.
Spring tide obviously occurs when A=m, -M- Since the mean
value of A is s - A (the difference of the mean longitudes), and since
the mean values of /xand m, sre i<m, iff, it follows that the mean
value of the period elapsing after full moon and change of moon up
to spring tide is (it, - it„)/2((T - tj). The association of spring tide
with full and change is obvious, and a fiction has been adopted by
which it is held that spring tide i§ generated in those configura-
tions of the moon and sun, but takes some time to reach the port
of observation. Accordingly (/f, - itm)/2(ff - rj) has been- called the
"age of the tide." The average age is about 36 hours as far as
observations have yet been made. The ago of the tide appears not
in general to differ very much froin the ages of the declmational
and parallactic inequalities.
Ill' computing a tide-table it is lound practically convenient not
to use A, which is the difference of R.A. s at the unknown time ol
high water, but to refer the tide to A,^ the difference of R. A.'3 at tho
time of the moon's transit. It is clear that A, is the apparent tim
of the moon's transit reduced to angle at 15° per hour. We havt
already remarked that ^l{y-da/dt)is the interval from transit to
high water, and hence at high water
^ daldt-dajdt ^ (89).
7 - aajat
As an approTJmation we may attribute to all the quantities in
the second term their mean values, and we then have^
Synthe-
sis to
obtaio
single
term.
Fort-
nightly
in equal-
ity.
Age of
tide.
Refer-
ence to
moon'e
transit.
and
A -ji,+,j.=A,- ^.+}^l^ = A<,-l', + i>" ■ —^^0^
This approximate formula (90) may bo used in computing from
(88) the fortnightly inequality in the "height" and "interval."
In this investigation we have supposed that the declinational and
parallactic corrections are applied to the lunar and solar tides be-
fore their synthesis , but it is obvious that tlie process might be
reversed, and that we may form a table of the fortnightly inequality
based on mean values H„ and H„ and afterwards apply corrections.
This is the process usually adopted, but it is less exact. The labour
of computing the fortnightly inequality, especially by graphical
methods, is not great, and the plan here suggested se;ms preferable.
1 The tide has be«Q reXerrcd by Lubbock and oltieis to iin earliei- transit
ond nnt to the on» kniuediately prtcfding Iho t.'mc und" consideration. l!
this case we cannot admit with great acpurBc.3 t^at *i; <( = 0 , wncc the intervs
may be 30 tr 40 hours.
TIDES
3G1)
§ 32: IHurrml Tides.
Dinmil Tbc!* t1d<-3 nave i.ot been usually trcaled with completeness in
tiJw not the 9yntbi>tic melhnd. lu the tule tables u( the British Admij^lty
sily
trrnted
■y&lbet-
(91),
(92).
, fo that we
Partiu
we 6n<l that the tides at some ports are "affected by diurnal in-
equality"; such a statenii-nt may b« interprtttd as meaning that
the tides arw not to be predicted by the inforniatioD given in the
8o-call«l lidotablo. The diurnal tides are indeed complex, and do
Bot lend theiuselves easily to a complete synthesis In the har-
muuic notation the three important tides are K,,0, P, aid the lunar
portion ol li, is nearly equal to O in height, whilst the solar portion
B BCiirly i^iual to 1'. A complete synthesis may be carried out on
the liues adopted in treating the semi-diurnal tides, but the ad-
tiniagc of the plan is lost in consequence of large oscillations of
{he aniplituile through tho value zero, so that thu tide is often
rvppesented by a negative (|uantity multiplied by a circular function.
it is licst, then, only to attempt a partial synthesis, and to admit
the existence of two diurnal tides.
We s.e from achedulis (A. ii] and [B, L], § 23, that tho princip.al
diurnal tides are those lettered (). P. K,. Of these K, occurs both
for the nax.n and the eun. The synthesis of the two parts of K, is
effected without diBJculty, and the result is a formula for the total
K, tide like tlial in [A, ii J, but with the ► which occurs in the ar^-
Bient replaced by a different angle denoted as »'. If, then, we write
V„=«-i-A-2»-»-f2f-hjT\
V"=«-fA-r' -Jt / "
Uie tbrce tides 0,K„P are written as follows :— .
0 =foH„co3(V„-»„),
Ki = f Hco3(V'-<'),
P =-H.cosIV'-«'-(2A-»') + «'-'j.)l
The last two tides have very nearly the same speed
may assume ii' = it^ and that tip has the same ratio to H' a» in the
equilibrium theory. Now, in schedules (A, iL], [B, ii. ], § 23, the
coefficient of Ki, viz., H' (the sum of the lunar and iolar parts), i»
•26522, and the coefficient of P, viz., H„ is -08775, bo that H'
= S'023 H^ or say = 3Hp. Hence we have
K, -I- P= H' [f - 5 cos (2A - 1-')! cos (V - k)
tynthesia -H'i3in(2A-»'')8ln(V'-«').
If, therefore, we put
R'cosf = H'[r-4co3(2A- »i\ ,0,^
R'sini^=Jirsin(2A-»') / *"'■
K, + P = K'cos(V •fv''-'')
It is clear that f and R' have a semi-annual inequality, and there-
fore for several weeks together R' and ^ may bo treated as constant.
Now suppose that we compute V^ and V at the epoch — that is, at
the initial noon of the period during which we wish to predict the
tides — and with these values put
fj = «j - Vj at ejioch, {- = /t' - V at epoch - V.
Then the speed of V^ is 7-2<r, or ]3''-94303 per hour, or
360°-%5°-8673 per day ; and the speed of V is 7, or 15°-0410686
per hour, or 360'-9856 per day. Hence, if t be the mean solar time
on the ^n-^ l)th day since the initial moment or epoch,
V(, - «„= 360°B + 1 3° 9-13 t - f„ - 25°-367re,
V -t f - «■' = S80°n + 15°041 t - f -1- 0°-986n.
TNnrnal Therefore the diurnal tides at time t of the (n + 1 )th day are giTen by
cotrec- 0=f„HoCos[13°-943t-f,-25''-367n] 1 ,„,.
tionato K, + P=K' cos[15°041 t - f" + 0°-986n] / ^''*'-
(J \y If we substitute for t the time of hi^h or low water aa computed
laJLfcW simply from the semi-diurnal tidc^ it is clear that tho sum of these
two expressions will give the diurnal correction foi* height of tide
at high or low water, provided thu diurnal tides are not rer7 large.
If we consider Ih" maximum of a function
i cos 2(t - a) -h B cos n(t - (5),
where B irf" small compared with A and n is nearly unity, we see
that the time of maximum is given approximately by t=a, with a
correction _5t determined from
2A sin (25t) - nB sin n(a - jS)= 0 ;
180° nB . , „,
ot ot= — r~ • TT Sin 71(0 - p)
4A
llinniaJ
correc-
bon to
In this way"we find that the corr«^tion3 to the time of high water
from 0 and K,-)- P are
bonto /(T\fTT \
tinieof Jt,= -Ot-gfiSfl ) «V'8inn3''-943t-f„-25°-367i7l J
H.W. _ ) TxR' (»5).
AiulUW Jt'S'-0''-98S(^l-f— -^jgsin[15°-0«t-r-l-0°-986i!] ^
H denoting the hei<;ht and t the time of high water as corapnted
from the semi-diurtial tide. If t next denotes the time of low water
tho samn corrections with opposite sign give the corrections for
low water.
If the diurnal tides are large a second approximation will be
necessary. These formula have been used in compnting a tide-table
iu the eiample given in the Admirally ScierUific Manual fl8861
23—15
§ 33. Bxplanaitim of Tidal Tci-ms in common use ; Datum lyCivls.
The mean height at spring tide between high and low w.iter is Tnlal
called the sprimj rise, anil is equal to 2(H„ + H,). Tho height terms ex-
between mean high-water mark of neap tide and iiicaB low-walcr j^lained
mark at spring tide is callini the Ti&rp nic, ap'l is equal to 211^-
The mean height at neap tide between high and low water is called
the rit^pravtje ; this is equal to 2(11^ - 11,}. Neap range is usually
about one third of spring range. The mean period between full 01
change of moon and spring tide is called the a/jc of the tide ; this
is equal to (f, - «^m)/2(<r - 1?}, or, if «, - /im be expressed in degrees,
0^*984 X (k,- K„,) ; K, - «TO is commonly al>out 36', and the age about
36*1. 'ph^. period elapsing from the moon's upper or lower transit
until it is high water is cilled the intertill or the lunitiiliU interval.
The interval at full moon or chaiigi^ of moon is called the estaUiah-
men/ of tJu port or tho vulgar cslAiUishnif^U. The interval at spring
tide is called the currrri^d or mean cMabtishmcnt.
The mean establishment may bo found from the vulgar establish
ment by means of the spring and neap rise and tho age of the tide,
as follows.
Let a be the age of the tide reiiuced to angle at the rate ol
l°-016tolhehour. Then the mean establishment in hours is equal to
the vulgar establishment in hours, diminished by a period exprcss-^d
in hours numerically equal to n^ of the angle whose tangent is
H,sin a/(Hm-f- H, cosa), expre.s.scd in tit-grees. Also Il,/ll.„ is equal
to the ratio of the excess of spring rise over neap rise to neap rise.
The French have called a quantity which appears U> be identical
with H„-^Hp or half tho spring ri.se, the unit of height, and then
define the Height of any oilier tide by a tidal cocllicieDt.'
The practice of the Britisli Admiralty is to refer their soundings Adoilr-
and tide- tables to *' mean low water roaik of ordinar)' springtides." ally
This datum is found by taking tho mean of the low-water iii.irks of datum
such observations at spring tide as are available, or, if the obser-
vations are very extensive, ny excluiliug from the mean such spring
tides as appear to be abnormal, owing to tho largeness of the moon's
parallax at the time or any other cause. The Admiralty datum is
not, then, susceptible of exact scientific definition ; but, wiien it
has once been fixed -with reference to a bench mark ashore, it is '
expedient to adhere to it, by whatever process it w;is first fixed.
It is now proposed to adopt for any new Indian tidal stations a Indian
low-water datum for the tide table to be railed " Indian low-water datum,
mark,"'and to be defined as R„+ H,-f H'-fH, below mean-water
level. Although such a datum is not chosen from any precise
scientific considerations, it is suscoptiblo of exact definiti>.n, is
low enough to exclude almost all negative entries from the table (3
sine qua non for a good datura), and will diifcr but little from the
Admiralty datum, nowever that may be determined A valuable
list of datum levels is given by Mr J. Sboolbred in a Report to the
British Association in 1879.
\H^ Onthe Beduclion of Ooserrations oj High and Lew IVater.*
A continuous register of tho tide or observation at fixed intervals Observa
of time, such as each hour, is certainly the best ; but fur the tions ol
adequate use of such a record some plan analogous to harmonic H.W,
analysis is necessary. Observations of high and low water only andL,^.
have, at ledst until recently, been more usual. Some care has U>
be taken with respect to these observations, for about high and low
water an irregtilarity in the rise and fall becomes very noticeable,
especially if the place of observation is badly chosen.* Observa-
tions should therefore be taken every five or ten minutes for hall
an hour or an hour, emiiracing tho time of high and low water.
The time and height of high and low water should then be found
by plotting down a curve of heights, and by taking as the true
tide-curve a line which presents a sweeping curvature and smoothes
away the minor irregularities. A similar but less elaborate process
would render hourly observations more perfect. In the reduction
the immediate object is to connect the times and heights of high
and low water with the moon's transits by means of the establish-
ment, age, and fortnightly inequality in tho interval and height.
The reference of the tide to the establishment is not, however,
scientifirally desirable, and it is lictter to determine the mean
establishment, which is the mean intnrx'al from the moon's transit
to high water at spring tide, and the ago of tho tide, which is the
mean period from full raoou and change of moon to spring tide.
For these purposes the observations may bo conveniently treated GraphiV
graphically.^ An equally divided horizontal scale is taken to cal treatt
represent the twelve hours of the clock of civil time, regulated tOmenU-
the time of the port, or — more accurately — arranged always to show
1 Bee nan, P}thiort\iiit da Slarif.i, p. l.",!, Paris. 1SS5
* See r*refaccs to Indian Offinal Ttftr.Tabln for 1SH7.
3 Founded on Whewcirs article "Ti.Ies". in Admindty Se. Manual {cd. 1841X
and nn Airy's "Tides Bnd Waves." in Enry. Mttrop.
* Waves with a period of fWini five to twenty minutes arc vet7 common, and
appear to be acalocQus to the "seiches" of Geneva and otber lakes. S««
Fnrel, Bvto«'i &X-, Vdvd. Sci. Sal , 1S73, IS75, 1877, and 1S79 ; Ann. Chtmitct
Fhysiqur, vol. ix., 1S76; Compta Kend^ts, 1S79 : AtA. Sci., PS., f{ Kat., Gtntwa^
ISsi : also Airy, " On the Tides of Malta," PhlL Trona., 1878, part i.
* For a ninnerical treatment, see Dirttiions for iUducin^ Tidal Obs^rrafiOfW.
"by Commander fiordwood. R.N.. tendon, 1876.
'XXIIL — 47
370
1 1 D E S
Grapbt' apparent timo by being fkst or alow by the equattoa of time ; this
cal deter- time-scalo represents the time-of-clock of the moon's transit, either
mm&tion upper or lower. Tho scale is perhaps most conveniently arranged
ofesub- in the order V, VI XII. I . . . IIII. Then each interval
iifihment, of time from transit to hiffh water is set off as an ordinate above
^tc. the corresponding time-ot'-clock of the moon's transit A sweeping
cur\'e ia drawn nearly through the -tops of the ordinates, so as to
cut off minor irregulanties. Next along the same ordinates are set
off lengths corri^ponding to the height of water at each hi^h water.
A second similar 6gure may bo made for the interval and height at
low water * In tho curve of bigh-watcr intervals the ordinate
corresponding to XII is the establishment, since it gives the time
of high water at full moon and change of moon. That ordinate of
high-water intervals which is coincident with the greatest ordinate
of high-water heights gives tho mean establishment. Since the
inoou's transit falls about fifty minutes later on each day, in setting
off a fortnight's observations there will be about five days for each
four times-of-clock of the upper transit. Hence in these figures wo
may rugard each division of the tiine-scale 1 to 11, II to III, &c. ,
as representing twenty-five hours instead of one hour. Tlicn the
distance from th,e greatest ordinate of Li^h-water heights to XII
is called the ago of tho tide. From these two figures the times and
hcighu of high and bw water may in general be predicted with
A M Uidni^
arirxTXVni'gir'grvwTiiii i xnn
fair approximation. We find the time-of-clock oftho moon's upper Graphu
or lower transit on the day, correct by the 'equation of time, read cil pre-
off the corresponding heights of high and low water from the Lgures, diction,
and the iutervab being also read off are added to the time of the
moon's transit and give the times of high and low water. At all
ports there is, however, an irregularity of heights and inlervals
between successive tides, and in consequence of this the cur'i'h pre-
sent more or less of a zigzag appearance. Where tho zigzag is
perceptible to tbe eye, the cur\'c3 must be smoothed by drawing
them so as to bisect the zigzags, because these dioroal nit(|uaLties
will not present fbemselves similarly in tlie future. Wh' u, aa in
some equatorial ports, tho diurnal tides are large, this method o(
tidal prediction fails.
This method of working out observations of high and low water Methods
was uot the earliest. In tho Mecaniquc CcUsU, bki i and v. , Liplnce ol Lu
treats a large mass of tidal observations by dividing thrni into yWxs,
classes depending ou thoconljguratiousof Uie tidu-goneratingbodus. l.ui'l>>rK,
Thus he separates the two syzygial tides at foil inuon and chjri>;e Wlicwull,
of moon and divides them into euuinoctial and solstitial tides.
Ho takes into consideration*tho tides ol several days enibrat-jug
these contigurations. Ho goes through the tides at quadratures
on tho same general plan. The effects of declination and parallax
and tho diurual inequalities arc similarly treated* LubbocK (i'Aii
i\Q. 3.— Tide-ourvo for Bombay from Iho bcftUining of tho civil year 1834, to the mldnt^ht ending Jan. 14, 1884, or Irom 12h I>ec 31, 1883,
to I'Jb Jan. 14, 18^, astroDomicaJ timu.
tuu^c
Obser* «-"
prr-^iit
llUlL
7r/i<i?,, 1S31 sq ) improved the mctlioti of Laplace by taking into
actount all the observed tides, and not merely those appertaining
to crlam configurations. He divided tho observations into a
numWr of classes. First, the tides are separated into parcels, one
for liich month ; then each parcel is sorted according to tho hour
of the moon's transit Another classification is made according to
dn lination ; another according to parallax; and a last for tlie
diurml incfpnlMK'S This plan was followed in treating the tides
of London. UieM, St Helena, Plymouth, Portsmouth, and Sheemess.
Vh.-wcll \Phil. Trint ^ 1831 47) did much to reduce Lubbock's
results to a mathematical form, and made a highly important
odrame by the introduction of graphical methods by means of
rurws The rai-'thod •■^plained above is due to him. Airy remarks
of Whewcll's papffs that they appear to be '* the best specimens of
reduction of new observations tbak w« have ever seen."
VI. Tidal Instruments and Tidal PixEDicrrox.
§ 35. General Rffmarks.
Practical tidal work ie divisible into the ihr-'c stages of observa-
valion, rrduriiou of "hsfrvatioiui,
The siniplrst obiiT-rvation is that
nd prediction.
of tlie h'lght of water on
I .iri ioiini(itc of thi« kind of curvo for the hij^h-wnlrr ticiclits for Bombay,
drTwn aiiti'Tiiaiically by a tu1ri:aui:e, woiilft l»e whown by j^oiuinij sH the lu;;li
WatiT* to^-'lu-r (S5 III flu. 0 by a rorriinuoua rurvp ; aqd a simitar rtjrvL>
may *jc wristructcl f-ir (tin low wiUrs. In this c-ise, hoWev.H, the hours
ol ttiiTlork drc r^JI.f^•lt»■l^ iwict* over, s<» (hat tiie morning ami cYonnig tubs
oci ur in .lilTi-rrtit lialvci <*l tin- ll;:ure. an*! tho hours uro nut hour*, of Uio
njfH.nit traiMit. but Itu- actuit timt-f or Jn^h walisf It l^ ubvicua that tbu*
8<'|araiii>ri ut the ui'jruiuji ao'i cvcuiDif tiUus iircvcDla Uiu M:«:uiTeDc4 of Ibo
Ei^Mi'* rvfenod to.
graduated staff tixed in the sea, with such allowance as is possible
made for wave-motion. It is far better, however, to sink u lube
into the sea, into which tho water penetrates through sinull hoks.
Tho wave-motion is thus annulled. In this calni water thiu- be*
a Hoat, to which is attached a cord pa^sin; over a pulley and
counterpoised at the end. The motiuu of the counterpoise :igain:?t
a scale is observed. In cither case the observations may be nude
every hour, which is preferable, or the times and heights ol lugh
and low water may bo noted. \Ve have fxplaui<>d in ^ ^4 t)io
nifthods of reducing the latter kind of obsir\'atiun Although
more appropriate for rough observations, thi^ method is suM.eptiIdo
of great accuracy when carefully usfd It has been largrly super-
seded bv the harmonic method, but is still adhered to by the linlu-b
Admiralty. In mere careful observations than those of wlm h \\e
are speaking the tidal record is autouiaTic and cuIlllllUuu^• . tb<<
reduction may be, and ftrobably at some future tinu* will 1»-,
mechanical , and the predirtion is so already. We shall theritun
devote some sparo to general desenptions of the three eIu.s.M:> »>l
instrument. The harmonic reductions are at present (1837) adu-
ally done numerically, and in chapter iv. wo have mdiealed tho
nature of tho arithmetical [irocc ses.
§ 36. Vu: 1 Ldr-Oauqc.
The site for the erection of a tide-gauijo Jepenos on local circum- tide
stances. It should be placed so as tu hreseut a fair representation gaugv
of the tidal oscillations of the surrounding areii A tank is gener
ally provided, comrauuicatirig Lv a iharmel with tho sea at about
10 feet (more or Ic.ia according to the pievalent surf) below iht
lowes^t low. water mark. In many cases on open coasts and fro
TIDES
371
quently in estuaries the tank may be dispensed with. At any rate
we suppose that water is provided rising and falling with the tide,
without much wave-motion. The nature of the installation de-
pends entirely on the circumstances of the case. A vertical pipe
is fixed in the water in such a way as to admit it only through
boles small enough to annul wave-motion and large enough to
make no sensible retardation of its rise and fall in the pipe. The
diameter of the pipe differs greatly in different instruments : some-
times that which we have described as the tank serves as the pipe,
and sometimes the pipe alone dips into the sea. A cylindrical
float, usually a hollow metallic box or a block of green-heart wood,
hangs and floats in the pipe, and is of such density as just to sink
without support. In Sir W. Thomson's gauge the float hangs by
a fine platinum wire, in Newman's (used in India) by a metallic
ribbon. In the latter a chain hangs at the bottom of the float of
such weight that, whether the water be high or low, there is the
same upward force on the float. It is necessary that the pull on
the float should be constant, otherwise a systematic error is intro-
duced between rising and falling water. The suspension wire is
wrapped round a wheel, and imparts to it rotation proportional to
the rise and fall of tide. By a simple gearing this wheel drives
another, by which the range is reduced to any convenient extent.
A fine wire wound on the final wheel of the train drags a pencil
or pen up and down or to and fro proportionately to the tidal
oscillations. The [pencil is lightly pressed against a drum, which
is driven by clockwork so as to make one revolution per day. The
pen leaves its trace or tide -curve on paper wrapped round the
drum. Generally, however, the paper is fixed to the drum, and
the record of a fortnight may be taken without change of paper.
An exam[ile of a tide-curve for Apollo Bunder, Bombay, from 1st
to 15th January 1SS4, is shown in fig. 3. Sometimes the paper
is in a long band, which the drum picks ofl" from one coil and
delivers on to another The contact of the pen must be such that
the work done in dragging it over the paper is small, otherwise a
varying tension is thrown on to the Moat wire. Hence, if the fric-
tion is considerable, the float must be large.
The conditions necessary for a good tide-gauge appear to be better
satisfied by Sir W. Thomson's than by any other ; but, as his in-
strument is recent, other forms ha*e been much more extensively
used, and have worked well. The peculiarity of Thomson's tide-
gauge is that, by giving the drum ad inclination to the vertical,
the pressure of the pen on the paper and on its guides is very deli-
cately regnialed to the raminium necessary for clfecting the purpose.
In other gauge's the drum has been either vertical or horizontal, and
the amount of faction kas necessarily been considerably greater.*
§ 37. The Bnrmoinc Atialyser.
Har- If a function ^ be expressed as a series of harmonic terms, and
tiionic if one pair of these terras be A cos >ti-t- B sin n(, then, if T be a
aoalyser. multiple of the complete oenod 27r/7t, we have
0 rT 9 /"r
A=y5 / Bcosnldl, B = ^ / ffsimUdt.
Thus a machine which will effect these integrations will give A and
B Such a machine has been invented by Prof. James Thomson
and perfected by Sir W. Thomson. " " " "
table, capable of rotation about the
inclined shaft s. Let S be a sphere
touching the table anywhere along
its horizontal diameter. LetC be a
cylinder, of somewhat smaller diam-
eter than the sphere, capable of rota-
tion about a horizontal axis parallel
to the table, and touching the sphere
so that CS IS parallel to TT'. Sup-
pose that the point of contact of the
sphere with the table is distant x
from the centre of the table, and
nearer to us than the shaft ; then, when the shaft 5 and the table
TT' turn in such a direction that T rises from the paper and T'
goes below it, the sphere will turn in the direction of its arrow. If
the radius of the sphere is a, and that of the cylinder 6, then, when
the table turns through a small angle 5^, the sphere turns through
a:S6la and the cylinder through xddjb. This angle vanishes if S
touches the table at the centre, and is reversed if the sphere be
moved across to the other side of the centre. Also whilst the
table 13 turning the sphere may be rolled backwards and forwards
without rubbing, and thus transmits motion from the table to
the cylinder with'out slipping. Now suppose the turning of the
table 19 so constrained that otf = ^cos ^(:^i/', whilst x is constrained
to be equal to the arbitrarily varying quantity H. Then the
total angle turned through by the cylinder, as the machine rnns,
is proportional to/H cos ^rfi/'. If we impart to the table a simple
' For further details concerning the establishment of tide-gauces, see Major
Braid's Mavual of Tidnl Observaiion, London, 1887, and Sir W. ThomsoD, " On
Tidal Instruraentfl," in Irist. Civ. Eng., vol. Ixv. p. 10.
In fig. "4 let TT' be a circular
t
Fio. 4.— Hannonlc analyser.
harmonic oscillatory motion, with a period proportional to the Innar
half-day, whilst the sphere moves, relatively to the centre of the
table, proportionately to the tide-heights on the same time-scale,
then, at the end of a sufficient number of lunar days, we shall find
that the total angle turned through by the cylinder is proportional
to either the A or B component of the lunar semi-diurnal tide. An
index, which points to a dial, may be fixed to the cylinder, so that
the required result may be read off".
In the harmonic analyser the tide-curve diagram is wrapped on a
drum, which is turned by one hand, whilst with the other a pointer
is guided to follow the tide-curve. As the drum turns proportion-
ately to mean solar time, appropriate gearing causes two tables to
execute harmonic oscillations in phases at right angles, with lunar
semi-diurnal period. At the same time a fork attached to the pointer
guides the two spheres so that their distances from the centres of
their tables are equal to the tide-height in the diagram. The in-
dexes attached to the two cylinders give the two components of the
lunar semi-diurnal tide, and the approximation improves the longer
the tide-curve which is passed through the machine. Corresponding
to each of the principal lunar and solar rides there are a pair of
tables, spheres with guiding forks, and cylinders similarly geared, and
there is another sphere and another table, which last always turns
the same way and at the same rate as the drum, from which the
mean height of water is determined. Sueh an instrument has been
constructed under the supervision of Sir W. Thomson, but has not
yet been put into practical use, so that we cannot say hdw*it will
compete with the arithmetical harmonic analysis. A similar, but
less complex machine for the analysis of meteorological observations
is in constant use in the Meteorological Office in London, and is
found to work well.^
§ 38. The Tide- Predicting hisirununt.
The first suggestion for instrumental prediction of tides was given Tide
we believe, by Sir W. Thomson in 1S7'2, and the instruments since ^r&h jt-
made have been founded on the prmciples which he then laid down, ing in '
Mr Edward Roberts btire a very important part in the first practical struXDeDL
realization of such a machine, and a tide-predicter was constructed
by Lege for the Indian Government nnder his direcrion. Thomson's
is the only instrument in Europe as yet in re^Tilar practical use for
navigatioual purposes. It requires much skiU and care in manipu-
lation, and it has been ably worked by Mr Roberts for the produc-
tion of the Indian tide-tables ever since its completion. We refer
the reader to Sir W. Thomson's paper on "Tidal Instruments," in
Iiist. C.E.^ vol. Ixv., and to the subsequent discussion, for a full
account of iiit several instruments, and for details of the share borne
by the various persons concerned in the realization of the idea.
Fig. 5 illustrates diagram matically the nature of the instrument.
A cord passes over and under a succession of pulleys, being fised at
one end and having at the other a pen which
touches a revolving drum. If all the pulleys but
one be fixed, and if that one executes a simple
harmonic motion up and down, the pen will exe-
cute the same motion with half amplitude. ^If a
second pulley be now given an harmonic motion,
the pen takes it up also with half
amplitude. The same is true if all
the pulleys are in harmonic motion.
Thus the pen sums them all up,
and leaves a trace on the revolving
drum. When the drum and pul-
leys are so geared that the angular
motion of the drum is proportional
to mean solar time, wnilst the har-
monic motions of the pulleys cor-
respond in range and phase to all
the important lunar and solar tides, the trace on the dmm is a
tide-curve, from which a tide-table may be constructed. The
harmonic motion of the pulley is given by an arrangement in-
dicated only in the case of the lower pulley in the figure. The
pulley frame has attached to its vertical portion a horizontal slot,
in which. slides a pin fixed to a wheel. Suppose that whilst the
drum turns through 15" the wheel turns through 2S°-9S4. Now a
lunar day is 24-842 mean solar hours ; hence as the drum turns
through 15°x24-842 the wheel turns through 24-842 x 28°-984 or
720°. Thus, if the drum turns with an angular velocity pro-
portional to solar time, the wheel turns with twice the angular
velocity proportional to lunar time,and the pulley geared to thewheel
executes lunar semi-diurnal harmonic oscillations. "When the throw
of the pin and its angular position on its wheel are adjusted so as to
correspond with the range and phase' of the observed lunar semi-
diurnal tide, the oscillation of the pulley remains rigorously ac*
curate for that tide for all future tiOie, if the gearing be rigorously
accurate, and with all needful accuracy for some ten years of tide
2 For fuither details, see Appendixes iii., iv., v., to Thomson and Taifs NoL
Phil., 1S79, vol. i., part i.; James Thomson, Proc. Roy. Soc., vol. xxlv., ISTtf^
p. 262, and (Sir W. Thomson) pp. 2C9, 271 ; Sir W, Thomson, Proc. Jnst. C.i,
vol. Uv.
FiQ. 5.— Tide-predicting inatrmnent
372
TIDES
Tirtesxin
Induin
mslru
%ith gearing as pracTically constnictod. The upper pulleys have
to be carefully counterpoised as iadicated. It has not been found
itliat any nppreciablo disturbance is caused ty-the inertia of the
moving parts, even wlion the speed of working is high. The pre-
dictor of the India Oflicc takes about four hours to run off a yoar*s
tides, but prcater spend scorns attainable by modification in the
gearing. The Indian instrument, in the store department at Lam-
beth, has pulleys for the following tides (sec chnp. iv.) :— Ma* ^^4»
Ma Ki, S,. S-i, 0. K. P. K.S 0. v. J. L. X. 2MS. 2SM, MS, Ssa. Sa.
§ 39. T^umerieal Harmonic A^intysis and Prediction
Iq chapter iv. wo have discussed the application of tho numerical
liarmonic method to a loti^ series of Hourly observations. An
actu.il numericiLl example of this analysis, with modifications to
icndt^r it applicable to a short series, smih as a fortniglit, is given
in the A'hairaltij Sncntijic Manual, ISSG, w'licro also an example
of tho numerical and graphical predirtion of the tides may bo
found. The fonnulce used arc those giv«'u in chapter v.
Vll. I'RoocEss OF TQE Tide-Wave oveu the Sea,
AND the Tides of the Bkitisu Seas.
§ 40. Meaning of Cotidal Lines.
Rnfftriont tidal data would of course give the state of the tide at
every part of the worhi at the same instant of time, antl if we were
to fo^o^^ the successive changes wc should bo able 'to picture
mentally the motion of tlic wave over the ocean and the successive
changes in its height, Tho data are, liowever, as yet very incom-
plete and ouly a rough sch'emo is possible. A map purporting to ColidoJ
give the progress of the tide-wave is called a maj) of roii-li! lint-s. Imes.
For a perfect representation three series of maps would U: r-jquin.-il,
one for the semi-diurnal tides, a second for the diuiiial lidrs, and
a third lor the tides of long period. Each class of map would then
show the progress of the wave for each conhguration of tin; tide*
g'Mierators. ISut as yet tho only cotidal maps made are those for
the mean scrai-diurnal tide, and only for the conhguration of new
and full moon. The knowledge of the tides is not v.;ry acrnrato
throughout the world, and tlierefore in the maps which we ;;ive it
is assumed that the same interval elapses at all places between new
and full moon and spring tide.
At spring tide, as we have scfn in (87) and {88),
h. = {M + M,)cos2(it-/i),
since A -a, becomes llVn equal 10-/4. As a rough approximation
spring tide occurs when the moon's transit is at one o'cloi k at night
or in the day. ^Ve only assume, however, that it occurs simultan-
cou>ly everywhere. Now let r be the Gix-cnwicli m<Mn ttrn<; of high
wat<T, and I tlie E. long, in hours of the place of observation, ih»-n,
the local time of high water being the time of the moon's transit
plus the interval, and loci) time being Grcenuu li time jdus E.
long., wo havo t = nl(y - <r) ~ I = ^^^ fi - /+ 1''
Fio. (j.— Cutidiil liDen of the worlil.
wnerd m is in degrees. Thoreloro, if wo draw over the ocean u
euccession of lines defined by equidistant integral values of the
Greenwich timo of high w:iter, and if w<; neg'ect the separation of
the nioon from the sun in longitude in twelve Iiours, thu* successive
lines will givtj the motiun of the semi-diurnal lide-wave in ouo Lour.
§41. Cotidal Lines of the IPorld
No recent revisal of cotidal lines has been made with tho aid of
the great mass' of tidiil data whieh is now being arcumulated, and
we therefore reproduce (fig. f>) the rhart of the world prepared by
Sir George Airy for his artiele on ** Tides and Waves." The jtarts
<)f the world foi whieh data are wanting arn omitted. Tlie K'iman
numerals upnn tho cotidal liufc.<! denote tho hour in Greenwich time
of high w.itiT <"i tho day of new or full moon. Airy remarks
(§§ ^75-5fi-t) that (he rotidal linrs of tbo North Atlantic ure ac-
turatfly drawn, l)iat those of the South Atlantic are doubtful, and
io tho F*aciHc east of New Zealand aro almost conjectural. The
embodiment of rerrnt observations in a eolida* ch:«.rt would ncces-
sitatH some modification of these statementK.
LiQei When a free wavu runs into shallow w;iler it travels with less
crowdod^velocity an<l its height is increa«ii;d. This is ob.servablc in the
Bear flexure and crowding of the cotidal lines near continents and oceanic
load. islands, as, for example, about the Azores, tho Bennudas, and the
coast of South Anierica. The veloeil^ of the tub'- wave gives good
information as to tho depth of tho sea. In the North Sea it aj)pcar.s
to travel at about 4R oulea an hour, wlvieh corresuonds to a depth
Kji 140 feet, and we know that the depth aloug tbo (1ce]icr channel
is greater and along the aides less than this. In tho Atlantic tho
wave passes over 90° of latitude, from the southern to the northern
one o'clock line, in twelve liours, that is at tho rato of 520 miles an
liour. If the Atlantic tide conhl be considered as a free wavo
generated by the I'aciGc tide, this velocity would correspond to a
de[itii of 18,000 feet. Airy considers, however, that tho Atlantic
forms too large a basiin to perniit the neglect of the direct tidal
action, and thinks that tlie tides of this ocean derive extremely
little of their character from the Pacifi'
"Tliero is another consideration," ho says, ''which must not ho Sir 0
Irft out of sight. It is tliat. supposing the cotidal lines to heaccu- Airj
r.itely what they profess to be— namely, the lines connecting all tho
points at whwh high water is simultaneous — tliey may, ncvcrtliclcss,
with a compound series of lide-wavcs, not at all represent the ridgo
of the tide wavo which actually runs over the ocean. Thus an eye
at a gre^Tt distance, rapniih- of observing the swells of tho tidc-wavefi,
might seo one hngo longitudinal lidgo extending from the mouth
of the Amazon to the sea bi-yond lecland, making high water at
ono time from Capo do Verde to tho North Cape, and at another
time from Florida to Greeidand, and another ridgo transversal to
the forrner, travelling from tho coast of Guiana to tho northern
sea ; and the cotidal lines which wo have traced may depend simnly
on tho combination of these waves. It does not appear likely tnat
we ran ever ascertain whether it i-s so or not ; but it is certainly
[K>3sibl6 that the original waves may havo these or similar forms ;^
4
TIDES
373
SirG
Airy.
ft d if eo it is vain for qb to attempt entirely to explain the tides
of the Atlantic."
He sums up the discnssion of the chart by saying : —
"Upon the whole, therefore, we are driven to the conclusion
that we cannot at all explain the cause of the form of the cotidal
lines in the ocean, so far as they have been traced with any prob-
ability. And, supposing us to know with tolerable certainty those
corresponding to the semi-diurnal tide, we cannot at all predict
those which should hold for the diurnal tide. '*
§ 42. Cotidal Lines of the British Seas,
Fig. 7 shows the cotidal lines in the seas surrounding the British
Islanda Here the lines refer to full moon and change of moon
and not to spnng tide. The small figures along different parts of
the coast deuote the extreme range of the tide in yards. This
6gure is from the same source as the preceding one, and we again
reproduce a portion of Air>''8 remarks.
"The tides iii the English Channel claim notice as having been
the subject of careful examination by many persons, English and
Fio. 7.— CotiUal Imes of British seas.
French. It appears that in the upper part of the Channel the
water flows up tne Channel nearly three hours after high water and
runs dowD nearly three hours after low water (this continuanre
of the current after high water, if it last three hours, is called by
sailors lide-and-half-lide ; if it last one hour and a half, it is called
tuU'and-quaTter.tide). On the English side of the Channel, especi-
ally opposite the entrance of bays, the directions of the currents
turn in twelve hours in the same direction as the hands of a watch ;
on the French side they turn in the opposite direction. This is
entirely in conformity with theory. The same laws are recognized
as holding, in the British [Bristol'] Channel, and in the German
or North Sea near the Scotch and English coasts.
*' With, regard to the Irish Channel we have only to remark that
there is a very great difference in the height of the tide on the
different sides, the tide on the east side being considerably the
preater They are also greater in the northern part (north of
Wicklow on one side, and of Bardsey Island on the other side)
than in the southern part Between Wexford and Wicklow they
are very small.
" The tides of the German Sea present a very remarkable peculiar-
ity. Along the eastern coast of England, as far as the mouth of the
Thames, the tide-wave, coming from the Atlantic round the Orkney
Islands, flows towards the south. Thus, on a certain day, it is
high water in the Murray [Moriy] Firth at eleven o'clock, at
Berwick at two o'clock, at Flambwrough Head at five o'clock, and
■so on to the entrance of the Thames. But en the Belman and
Dutch coasts immediately opposite, the tide-wave flows from the
south towards the north. Thus, on the day that we have sup-
jkosed, it will be high water off the Thames at eleven o'clock (the
tide having travelled in twelve hours from the Murray Firth) and
at Calais nearly at the same time ; hut at Ostend it will be at
twelve, off The Hague at two, off the Helder at six, and so on
"We believe that a complete eiphnation may be found in the
arrangement of the great shoals of the North Sea. It must bo
remarked that (except within a very small diiitance of Norway) the
North Sea is considerably deeper on the English side than on tlie
German side ; so much so that the tide-wave coming from the north
runs into a deep bay of deep water, bounded on the west side by
the Scotch and English coasts as far as Newcastle, and on the east
side by the great Dogger Bank. As far as the latitude of Hull,
the English side is still the deep one ; and, though a species of
channel through the shoal there allows an opening to the east, yet
immediately on the south of it is the Wells Bank, which' again
contracts the deep channel to the English side. After this (that
ia, in the latitude of Yarmouth) the deep channel expands equally
to both sides. It seems reasonable to conclude from this that the
gceat set of north tide is on the English side of the North Sea, both
between the Dogger Bank and England and between the Wells
Bank and England (a branch stream of tide having been given off
to the east between these two banks), and that any passage of tide- [
wave over these banks may be neglected. Now this view is sup-
ported in a remarkable degre** by the tidal observations on two
dangerous shoals called the Ower and Leman, lying between Cromer
and the Wella Bank, but nearer to the latter. It appears that on
these shoals the direction of the tide-current revolves in the same
manner as the hands of a watch, proving conclusively that the
Ower and Leman are on the left hand of the main stream of tide
(supposing the face turned in the direction in which the tide pro-
ceeds), or are on its eastern border, and therefore that the central
stream is still nearer to the coast of Norfolk. From a point not
far south of this we may suppose the tide to diverge in a fan-shaped
form over the unlTormly deep Belgian Sea. Along the English
coast the wave will tluw to the south ; but it will reach the whole .
of the Bel^^ian and Dutch coast at the same instant , and, if this
tide alone existed, we doubt col th^t the time of high water would
be sensibly the same along the whole of that coast.
" But there is another tide of great magnitude, namely, that which
comes from the English Channel through the Straits of Dover.
This also diverges, we conceive, in a fan form, affecting the whole
Belgian Sea : the western part turns into the estuary of the Thames ;
the eastern part runs along the Dutch coast, producing at successive
times high water (even as combined with the North Sea tide) along
successive points of that coast from Calais towards the Helder. And
this we believe to be the complete explanation of the apparently
opposite tide-currents. The branch tide of the North Sea running
between the Dogger Bank and the Wells Bank will assist in propa-
gatmg the tide along the German coast from the Helder towards
the mouth of the Elbe. We have gone into some detail in this
esplanaLion for the purpose of showing the importance of consider-
ing the form of the bottom in explanations of specific tides.
" A set of observations has been made by Captain Hewett (at the
point A, fig. 7) on the depth and motion of the water at a strictly
definite print a few miles south of the Wells Bank, near the middle
of the Bdgian Sea. The result was that the change of elevation •
of the surface was insensible, but that there was a considerable
stream of tide alternately north-east and south-west (magnetic).
The point in question cori-esponds pretty well to the intersection
of the cotidal Imes of nine o'clock of the Nt)rth Sea tide and three
o'clock of the English Channel tide (ordinary establishment), and
these tides would therefore wholly or partially destroy each othei
as regards elevation. As regards the compound tide-stre,^. j, the
greatest positive current from oue tide will be combined with the
greatest negative current of the other, and this will produce a stream
whose direction agrees well with observation. At 2>^ on the day ol
new moon, the North Sea tide would be running north (magnetic),
and the English Channel tide would be running east, and therefore
the compound current would he running north-east ; at 9*^ it would
be running south-west. Both currents, and consequently the com-
pound current, wpuid cease at about 0^, 6**, &c., on the day of new
moon , and, as the observations were made rather more than a day
before new monn, the slack water would occur an hour or mora
before noon. The whole of this agrees well \.tth the observations."
VIII, Tidal Deformation of the Solid Earth.
§ 43. Elastic Tides.
The tide-generating potential vanes as the square of the distance Elastia
from the earth's centre, and the corresponding forces act at every tides. -
point throughout i ts mass. No solid matter possesses the property
of absolute rigidity, and we must therefore admit the prooablo
existence of tidal elastic deformation of the solid earth. Tha
problem of hnding the state of strain of an elastic sphere under
given stresses was first solved by Lame ;* he made, however, butfew
physical deductions from his solution. An independent solution
was found by Sir W. Thomson,^ who drew some interesting conclu-
sions concerning the earth.
1 TfUorU Math, de VtlastidU. 1866. p. 213.
9 ThoDisoD aod T&it, Nak Phil., §£ 732-7S7 and 633-S43. or FKiL Tnuu., pt
a, 1&63, p. &83.
374
TIDES
His problem, in aa far as it is now matertal, is as follows. Let
a sphere, of radius a and density w, be made of clastic material
whose bulk and rigidity moduli are A- and n, and let it bo subjected
to forces due to a potential wr'-S.^ per unit volume, where S^ is a
surface sijherical luirnionicof I lie second order. Then it is required
to find the strain ol' the sjiherc. We refer the reader to the original
sources for the methods of solution applicable to s[tlieric^il sTiells
and to solid spiieres In order to write Thomson's solution wc put
'r, \, I for radius vector, latitude, and longitude, and p, fx, v for the
'corresDondinir disulanements. Then tlie solution is as follows; —
.P =
w
{(8a- - 3r)A- + larn]rS^
{^Q)\
For either tidal or rotational stresses
in the case of tides t = 3j/i/c^, m and c being the moon's mass and
distance, and in the case of rotation t= - ^w", w being the ungul.ir
velocity about the polar axis. The equation to the surlaco is founa
by putting r = a + p, where in the csjircssion for p wc put 7=-a,
Hence from (90) tlie form of surface is given by
I U'" L l+irV«AJ i
In most solids the bulk modulus is coiisidcraMy larger than the
rigidity modulus, an<l in this discussion it is sullicicnt to neglect n
compared with k, . "With this apjiroxiniation, tlio eilipticitv c of the
surface becomes ^vn-
OS).
dwith the power of gravitation,
(99),
(97).
\S>n
Now supposo the sphere to be cndi
and write 19^
where g is gravity at the surface of the globe Then, if there were
no elasticity, the ellipticity would bo given by c = t/(J, and without
gravitation byc^r/r. And it may be proved in several ways that,
gravity and elasticity co-operating,
c = -^ = --T-^- flOO).
t + 3 5 l+r/3
If n be the rigidity of steel, and if the globe have the size and mean
density of the earth, r/2 = '2, and with the rigidity of glass t/3= j.
Hence the ellipticity of aTi earth of steel under tide-generating force
would be ^ of tliat of a fluid earth, and the similar fraction for glass
would be ^. If an ocean bo superposed on the globe, then, if the
globe rises and falls with the tide as though it were Huid, there
will obviously be no tide visible to an observer carried np ai;d down
.with the solid ; and with any degree of rigidity the visible tide will
be the excess of the tluid tido above the solid tide. Hence' on an
J earth with rigidity of steel the oceanic tides would bo reduced to j,
and with rigidity of glass to f of the tides on a rigid earth.
§ 44. Kigidity of (he Earth.
Bigidityf Although the computation of oceanic tides is as yet impossible,
of^be it cannot be ndrnittca that perfect rigidity in the earth would aug-
earth. ment the tides iu the proportion of 5 to ,2, although tlicy might
perhaps be augmented in the proportion 4 to 3. Thus Thomson
concludes that tho earth's mass must have an effective rigidity at
least as great as that of steel If it were true, as was held until
recently, that the earth is a fluid ball coated with a crust, that
crust must be of fabulous rigidity to resist the tidal Burgings ol
subjacent fluid. Hence wo are led to the conclusion that far the
larger portion of the earth's mass, if not all of it, is a solid of great
rigidity. Up to the present time the argument by which the tides
of long period were proved to have approximately their equilibrium
height has generally been accepted without much doubt, but we
have (§ 17) shown good cause for rejecting Laplace's argument, at
Attempt least for a foi tnightly tide. It appeared formerly that, fiom numeri-
tocvalueeal data as to the heights of the tides of long period, we should
rigidityi be able to compute tho actual cITective rigidity of tlie earth's mass.
by tides Put from § 18 wc sec that, although these tides remain incal'.ulable,
of long Jet with such oceans as ours the tides of long period must conform
pcrioJ. much, more nearly to tho equilibrium laws than do the tides of
short period,-,. Thus a comparison of the observed heights of the
tides of long period with tho equilibrium law still remains of
interest, altliough the evaluation of the earth's rigidity ajipcars
with present data unattainable. Acting on the old belief, II r (i.
H. Darwin has compared the lunar fortnightly and monthly tides,
aa observed for thirty-three years at various Indian and European
fiorts, with tho equilibrium theory, and has found that the tide-
icights were about two-thirds of tho equilibrium height.' From
this the conclusion was drawn that tho effective rigidity of the
earth was as great aa that of st«cl. Whilst, then, this precise oora-
I Thornton ana Tilt. Nat. PKil., voL I. pt. 11., 1S83, § 847 tq.
parison with the rigidity of steel falls to the ground, the investiga-'
tion remaius as an important confirmation of Thomson's conclusion
as to tho great cITcctivc rigidity of the earth. When extensive and
accurate knowledge of the tides has been attained, the attempted
evaluation of the rigidity may conceivably be possible, because The 19-*
there is a minute tide with a period oT 18"6 years (§ 2.3, schedule yearly
[A, iii.]) of which Laplace's argument must hold good. Great accu- tide,
racy will, however, bo necessary, because the height of the tide at
the equator only amounts to one-third of an inch, and a preliminary
iuquiiy seems to show that tliere arc other relatively considerable
variations of sea-level arisii\g from unex[ilaincd causes.^
Sir \V. Thomson's solution of the strain of an elastic sphere has Weight'
been also used to determine what degree of strength tho materials of con-
of the earth must have in order that tho great continental plateaus liueota.
and mountains may not sink iu-^ In another investigation it hag
been :,!iown that local clastic yielding on the coastlines of conti-
nents may produce an augmentation of apparent tide in certain
places on account of the flexure of tho up|ior strata, when a great
weight of water is added and subtracted from the adjacent oceanic
area at high and low tido.* There is reason to believe th.at such
ile-xuie has actually been observed by a delicate form of level on
the coast of the Uay ol' Bisciy.*
§ 45. yijcoiis and £lastico- Viscot^ Tides
It might be supposed that the earth is composed of a Ti.scou3 Viscous
fluitl of great stillness, or that it possesses an elasticity, which and
breaks down under continued stress. Both these hypotheses have eLostico
been considered, and the results arc confii matory of tho conclusion viscous
that tlie earth is made of very stilf material.^ These problems tides,
appear to have been worthy of attack, although the existence of
mea-surable orcanic tides of long jieriod negatives the adoption of
the liypottiesis of true viscosity, at least under stresses comparable
with tide-generating forces.
If a sjilicre of radius-a, density v^, viscosity modulus-u, be
under the action of forces due to a potential per unit volum?
UT-S^cosiit, so tli.at n is the speed of the tide, the soli>*;-)j. oi the
problem shows that tho tide of the sphere ii expressed by
— - cnsecos(ii<- t) (101),
"hero tanc = -ii-, x = % — -, R=l --
g f.im-' " 'a
Thus the tides of tho viscous globe are" to the equilibrium tides ol
a fluid globe .as cos e to unity, and there is a retardation tjn of the
time of high tide after the pass,age of the tide-generator over the
nug-idian. purther, by arguments similar to that ajiplied in tho
case of elastic tides, it is found that oceanic tides are reduced by
the yielding in the projiortion of sin f to unity, and that there is
an apparent acceleration of tho time of high water by {W-t)}n,
It appears by numerical calculation that, in order that tlie oceanic
semi-diurnal tide may have a value equal to two-thirds of the full
amount on a rigid globe, tho stilTness of the globe must be about
twenty thousand times as great as that of pitch at freezing
temperature, when it is hard and brittle. We must here pass by
the results of the hypothesis of an elasticity degrading under the
influence of contiuned stress.
IX, TiDAj, Friction.
§ 46, General Eiplanalityr^
The investigation of tho tides of a viscous sphere has led us to the Genera]
consideration of a frietioually retarded tide. The effects of tidal eiplana
friction are of such general interest that we give a sketch of thetiou of
principal results without the aid of mathematical symbols. In fig- tidal frici
8 the paper is supposed to bo the plane of the orbit of a satellite M tion.
revolving in tho direction of the, arrow about the planet C, wliicl;
rotates in the direction of the arrow about an axis piJrpendicular to
the paper. The rotation of the planet is supposed to be moie rapid
than that of the satellite, so that the day is shorter than the month.
Let us suppose that the planet is either entirely fluid, or h.as an
ocean of such depth that it is high water under or nearly under tho
satellite. When there is no friction, with tho satellite at m, the
planet is elongated into the cUip.soid.il shape shown, cutting the
mean sphere, which is dotted. IJut, when there is friction in the
fluid motion, the tide is retarded, and high tido occurs after the
satellite has passed the meridian. Then, if we keep the same figure
to represent the tidal elongation, the satellite must be at 11, insti'ad
of at m. If we number tho four qua^lrants as shown, the satellite
must bo in quadrant 1. Theppotuhcrioice P is nearer to the satcllita
than I", and the deficiency (J is further away than the defieicucj
~ n.irwin. " On 10- yearly Title at ICamclii," in Brit. Assoc Ticport, 1S3C-
3 G. II. Uarivhi, ml. Trnns., pt i., 1SS2, p. 1S7, with corroclil»J,Proo- Jio'l.
Sot., 18S5-
« M-. Jtrlt. Assrv. Pqi, )RS2, Or Phil Mixn., 1.<;S2.
5 D'AbUadlc, Aiimihs Soc. Sc. dc linndles, ISSl. or .quotlttjin by- Darwin,
loc. cit.
6 G- H. D.irwln. Fhit. Trnhs., pt. 1., 1S70, p. 1 ; -SCO iilsn T-Tiiili., "On tlii
OscUUtioDS of a Viscous Spheruiil," Proe. Lo)u1. MatK. Soc., Nov. lt)Sl, ]>. 61.
TIDES
375
Q'. Hence the resultant action of the planet on the satellite mast
be in some such direction as HIT. The action of the satellite on
the planet is equal and
opposite, and the force in
KM, not being through
the planet's centre, raust
produce a retarding
coople on the planet's
rotation, the magnitude
of which depends on the '^
length of the arm CN.
This tidal frictional
eonple varies aa the
height of the tide, and
also depends on the sa-
FIanet'< tellite's distance ; its in-
rotation tensity in fact varies as
retarded, the square of the tide- ^. r- a
generating force, and ^^'
Qierefore as the inverse sixth-power of the satellite's distance Thus
tidal friction must retard the planetary rotation. Let us now con-
sider its effect on the satellite. If the force acting on M be resolved
along and perpendicular to the direction Gil, the perpendicular
component tends to accelerate the satellite's velocity. It alone
vould carry the satellite further from C than it would be dragged
back by the central force towards C. The satellite would describe
a spiral, the coils of w-hich would be very nearly circular and very
Dearly coincident If now we resolve the central component force
along CM tangentially and perpendicular to the spiral, the tangential
component tends to retard the velocity of the satellite, whereas the
disturbing force, already considered, tends to accelerate it. With
Satellite's the gravitational law of force between the two bodies the retajja-
velocity tion must prevail over the acceleration.' The moment of no
retarded, mentura of the whole system remains uriihanged, and that of the
planetary rotation diminishes, so that the orbital moment of
momentum must increase ; now orbital moment of momentum in-
creases with mcreasing distance and diminishing linear and angular
Telocity of the satellite. The action of tidal friction may apj>ear
somewhat paradoxical, but it is the exact converse of the accelera-
tion of the linear and angular velocity and the diminution of dis-
tance of a satellite moving through a resisting medium. The latter
result is generally more familiar than the actio" of tidal friction,
and it may help the reader to re«lize the result in the present case.
Tidal frictiea then ditni"'<:hes planetary rotation, increases the
satellite' distanc and tnmiDisbe« the orbital angular velocity.
The comparative rate ^f diminution of the two angular velocities
s generally very different. If the satellite he close to the planet
Ihcraie of increase of the satellite's periodic time or month is large
compared with the rate of increase of the period of planetary rota-
tion or day ; but if the satellite is far off the converse is true.
Hence, if the satellite starts very near the planet, with the month
a little longer than the day, as the satellite recedes the month soon
increases, so that it contains many d^s. The number of days in
the month attains a maximum and tnen diminishes. Finally the
two angular velocities subside to a second identity, the day and
month being identical and both very long.
We have supposed that the ocean is of snch depth that the tides
are direct ; if, however, they are inverted, with low water under or
nearly under the satellite, friction, instead of retarding, accelerates
the tide ; and it would be easy by drawing another figure to see
that the whole of the above conclusions hold equally true with
inverted tides.
§ 47. Exact Investigation ef the Seeular Effects of Tidal Friction.
Tidal The general conclusions of the last section are of such wide in-
friction. terest that we proceed to a rigorous discussion of the principal effects
of tidal friction in the elementary case of the circular orbit. In
order, however, to abndge the investipition we shall only consider
the case when the planetary rotation is more rapid than the satel-
lite's orbital motion.
Suppose an attractive particle or satellite of mass m to be moving
in a circular orbit, with an angular velocity 0, round a planet
of mass if, and suppose the planet to be rotating about an axis
perpendicular to the plane of the orbit, with an angular velocity
n ; suppose, also, the mass of the planet to be partially or wholly
imperfectly elastic or viscous, or that there are oceans on the sur-
face of the planet ; then the attraction of the satellite must produce
a relative motion in the parts of the planet, and that motion must
U- subject to friction, or, in other words, there must be frictional
Energy tides r,[ some sort or other The system n'ust accordingly be losing
^™^' energy by friction, and its configuration must change in such a way
ished by that ia whole energy diminishes. Such a system does not differ
fncticn. much from those of actual planets and satellites, and, therefore, the
r^ults deduced in this hypothetical case must agree pretty closely
with the actual course of evolution, provided that time e- mgh haa
> Thia vay of preaentuig th. action of tidal CrictioD la due to ProfesMr Stokes.
been and will be given for such changes. Let C be the moment of
inertia of the planet about its axis of roution, r the distance of the
satellite from the centre of the planet, A the resultant moment of
momentum of the whole system, e the whole energy, both kinetic
and potential, of the system. It is assumed that the figure of the
planet and the distribution of its internal density are such that the
attraction of the satellite causes no couple about any axis perpen-
dicular to that of rotation. A special system of units of mass,
length, and time will now be adopted such that the analytical re-
sults are reduced to their simplest forms. Let the unit of mass be
Mm!i.tf + m). Let the unit of length y be such a distance that the
moment of inertia of the planet about its axis of rotation may be
equal to the moment of inertia of the planet and satellite, treated
as particles, about their centre of inertia, when distant 7 apart from
one another. This condition gives
1 C(M+m) 1 i
\ Mm )
whence
Let the unit of time t be the time in which the satellite revolves
through 57°'3 about the planet, when the satellite's radius vector
IS equal to y. In this case 1/t 19 the satellite's orbital angular
velocity, and by the law of periodic times we have
T-^ = ^i/ + 7n),
where /x is the attraction between unit masses at unit distance.
Then by substitution for 7
^_fO(M+m)]i
\ ^-{Mmf )
This system of units will be found to make the three following Special
functions each equal to unity, viz., iiiMm (Af+m)'i, ti-Mm, and C. units. .
The units are in fact derived from the consideration that these
functions are each to be unity. In the case of the earth and moon,
if we take the moon's mass as ^i of the earths and the earth's
moment of inertia as JJ/a^ (as is very nearly the case), it may easily
bo shown that the unit of mass is ^V of the earth's mass, the unit
of length 5-25 earth's radii or 33,506 kilometres (20,807 miles),
and the unit of time 2 hrs. 41 minutes. In these units the present
angular velocity of the earth's diurnal rotation is expressed by
"7044, and the moon's present radius vector by n'454. The two Moment
bodies being supposed to revolve in circles about their common of mo-
centre of inertia ^vith an angular velocity fi, the moment of momen- mentum.
tum of orbital motion is
,/( -'^yn^3/r^yn= #^ r--fi.
\M+m/ \M+m/ it + m
Then, by the law of periodic times in a circular orbit,
whence fir^ =ni(J/-Km)M.
The moment of momentum of orbital motion
= M*ifm(J/■^m)-M,
and m the special units this is equal to r*. The moment of
momentum of the planet's rotation is Cn, and £7= 1 in the special
units. Therefore h = n + A (102).
Since the moon's present radius vector is 11-454, it follows that
the orbital momentum of the moon is 3384. Adding to this the
rotational momentum of the earth, which is 704, we obtain 4'083
for the total moment of momentum of the moon and earth. The
ratio of the orbital to the rotational momentum i3:4'80, so that
the total moment of momentum of the system would, bnt for the
obliquity of the ecliptic, be 5-SO times that of the earth's rotation.
Again, the kinetic energy of orbital motion Is
\M+mJ • \M+ml ^M+m ' r
The kinetic energy of the planet's rotation is ^Cn'. The potential
energy of the system is- tiMmlr. Adding the three energies to-
gether, and transforming into the special units, we have
2/=n=- l/r (103).
Now let a:=n, y=n, Y=2e.
It will be noticed that x, the moment of momentum of orbital
motion, is equal to the square root of the satellite's distance from
the planet Then equations (102) and (103) become
li = y + x (104).
r=/-l/i:= = (A-j:)' l/r" (105).
(104) is the equation of conservation of moment of momentum, or,
shortly, the equation of momentum ; (105) is the equation of energy.
Now consider a system started with given positive moment of .
momentum h ; and we have all sorts of ways in which it may be
started. If the two rotations be of opposite kinds, it is clear that Maxt-
we may start the system with any amount of energy however great, mum and
but the tnie maxima and minimi of energy compatible with the minimum
given moment- of mpmenti)m are supplied by dK/(ia: = 0, energy.
or «-A-i-l/r' = 0,
that is to say, a:* - Ajr* -H I = 0 1106).
We shall presently see that this quartic hat either two real roots
376
TIDES
Ho rela-
tive mo-
tion be-
tween
££C«Llit«
and
planet
w'aen
trtergy
inaxi-
inum>or
minimum,
"Equa-
tiona of
mo-
mentami
euergy.
end DO
Illative
motion.
Grapbical
illustra-
I ion
and two imaginary, or all imapnary roots. The quartic may be
derived from quite a different consideration, viz., by finding the con-
dition under which the satellite may move round the planet so that
tbe planet shall always show the same face to the satellite, — in fact,
90 that they move as parts of one rigid body. The conditicn is
Bimply that the satellite's orbital angular velocity fi = n, the planet's
angular velocity of rotation, or i/=l/2r*, since n = y and 7-i = n-i = x.
By substituting this value of y in the equation of momentum (104),
we get as before r* - Aj^ + 1 =0
At present we have only obtained one result, viz., that, if with
given moment of momentum it is possible to set the satellite and
planet moving as a rigid body, it is possible to do so in two ways,
and one of these ways requires a maximum amount of energy and
the other a minimum ; from this it is clear that one must be a rapid
roUlion with the satellite near the planet and the other a slow one
with the satellite remote from the planet In the three equations
A = y + a: (107),
K^(A-z)a-l/z2 . (108),
a?y=l .. -...(109),
(107) 13 the equation of momentum, (103) that of energy, and (109)
may be called the equation of rigidity, since it indicates that the
two bodies move as though parts of one rigid body To illustrate
these equations geometrically, we may take as abscissa i, which
is the moment of momentum of orbital motion so that the a,xis
of X raay be called the axis of orbital momentum. Also, for
equations (107) and fl09) we may take as ordinate y. which is tlie
moment of momentum of the planet's rotation, so that the axis
of y raay be called the axis of rotational momentum For (108)
we may take as ordinate i'. which is twice the energy of the
fiy<;teQii so that the axis of Y may be called the axis of energy.
Then, as it wil) be convenient to exhibit all three curves in the
s.injf fi^ire. with a parallel axis of x, we must have tlie axis of
energy identical with that of rotational momentum It will not
be mvessary to consider the case where the resultant moment of
momentum h is negative, because this would only be equivalent to
reversing all the rotations ; h is therefore to be taken as essentially
positive Then the line of momentum whose equation is (107) is a
straijrht line inclined at 45° to either axis, having positive intercepts
on both axes The curve of rigidity whose equation is (109) is
clearly of the same nature as a rectangular hyperbola, but it has a
much more rapid rate of approach to the axis of orbital momentum
than to that of rotational momentum. The intersections (if any)
of the curve of rigidity with the line of momentum have abscissa;
which are the two root.-; of the quartic r* - Aj^ + 1 =0 Tlie quartic
Las, therefore, two real roots or all imaginary roots Then, since
a:=\/r, the iuterspctinn uliich is more remote from the origin
indicates a configuration where tbo satellite is remote from the
planet; the other gives the ronliguration where the satellite is
closer to the planet We have already learnt that these two cor-
respond respectively to minimum ami inaximnra energy When r
is very large, the equation to the curve of encrg}' is Y = {h ~r'p,
which is the equation to a [vir.ibola ^nth a vertical axis parallel
to Kand distant h from the origin, so that the axis of the para-
bola passes through the lutcrsenlion of the line of momentum
with the axis of orbital niomcntum When x is very small, the
equation becomes K= - 1/jr Ucuce the axis of V \s asymptotic
on both sides to the curve of energy Then, if the line of mo-
mentum intcrsect<i the curve of rigidity, the curve of energy has a
maximum vertically underneath the point of intersection nearer
the origin and a minimum uudcrncalh the point more remote.
But, if there are no intersections, it has no maximum or minimum.
Fig. 9 shows these curves when drawn to scale for the case of the
earth and moon, that is to say, with k = A. Tlie points a and 6,
which are the maximum and minimum
of the curve of energy, are supposed to
be on the same ordinates as A and B.
the intersertionsof the curve of rigidity
^nth the line of momentum The in-
tersection of the line of momentum with
the axis of orbital momentum is denoted
D, but m a figure of this size it neces-
<sari1y remains indistinguishable from B. As the zero of energy is
quite arbitrary, the origin for the energy curve is displaced down-
wards, and this prevents the two curves from crossing one another
IZL a confusing manner. On account of the limitation imposed we
neglect the case where the quartic has no real roots. Every point
of the line of momentum gives by its abscissa and ordinate the square
root of the satellite's distance and the rotation of the planet, and
the ordinate of the energy curve gives the energy corresponding to
each distance of the satellite. Part of the figure has no physical
meaning, for it is impossible for the satellite to move round the
planet at a distance less than the sum of the radii of the planet
and satellite. For example, the moon's diameter being about 2200
mdes, and the earth's about 8000, the moon's distance cannot be
less than "51 00 miles. Accordingly a strip is marked off and shaded
on each side of the vertical axis within which the figure has ao
physical meaning. The point P indicates the present conligura-
tion of the earth and moon. The curve of rigidity 3^y=\ is the
same for all values of h, and by moving the line of momentum
parallel to itself nearer to or further from the origin, we may
represent aH possible moments of momentum of the whole system.
The smallest amount of moment of momentum with which it is Least mo
ffossible to set the system moving as a rigid body, with centrifugal mentum
orce enough to balance the mutual attraction, is when the line of for whu h
momentum touches the curve of rigidity. The condition for this no rela
IS clearly that the equation x* - ha^ -»- 1 = 0 should have equal roots, live mo-
If it has equal roots, each root must be ^A, and therefore tion po.s-
(fA)*-MiA)^ + l=0. ^'^^^
whence A* = 4V33 or A = 4/3^ = l-75 Tlie actual value of k for the
moon and earth is about 4 , hence, if the moon-earth system were
started with less than -^ of its actual moment of momentum, it
would not be possible for the two bodies to move so that the earth Maxi-
should always show the same face to the moon. Again, if we travel mum
along the line of momentum, there niust be some poiut for which oumlx-r
T/a** is a maximum, and since yr'^ = nlU there must be some point of days iq
for which the number of planetary rotations is greatest during one mouth
revolution of the satellite ; or, shortly, there must be some con-
figuration for which there is a maximum number of days in the
mouth. Now ys^ is equal to ar'(A-x-), and this is a maximum
when x=^h and the maximum number of days m the month is
i^hfih - ^h.) or Z^k*l4* ; if A is equal to 4. as is nearly the case for
the earth and moon, this becomes 27 Hence it follows that mp uow
have very nearly the maximum number of days m llic month. A
more accurate investigation in a paper on the " Precesbiou of a
Viscous Spheroid" in Phil. Trans., part i., 1879, showed that, taking
account of solar tidal friction and of the obliquity to tlie ecliptic,
the maximum number of days is about 29, and that we have already
passed through the phase of maximum We will now consider the Discns-
physical meaning of the figure It is assumed that the resultant sion of
moment of momentum of the whole system corresponds to a positive figure,
rotation Now imagine two points A\ith the same abscissa, one
on the momentum line and the other on the energy curve, and
suppose the one on the energy' curve to guide that on the momentum
line. Then, since we are supposing frictional tides to be raised on
the planet, the energy must degrade, and iiowever the two points
are set initially the point on the energy curve must always slide
down a slope, carrying with it the other point Looking at the
figure, we see that there are four slopes in the energy curve, two
running down to the planet and two down to the minimum There
are therefbre four ways in which the system may degrade, according
to the way it was stirted ; but we shall only consider one, that
corresponding to the portion AEha of the figure. For the part of
the line of momentum AB the month is longer than the day, and
this is the case with all known satellites except the nearer one ot Historyof
Mars, Now. if a satoUite be placed in the coudition A — that is to satellite
say, roo\*ing rapidly round a planet which always shows the same as euergr
face to the satellite — the condition is clearly djiiamically unstable, degrades,
for the least disturbance will determme whether the system shall
degrade down the slopes ac or ab — th-t is to say, whether it falls
into or recedes from the planet If the equilibrium breaks dowa
by the satellite receding, the recession will go on until the system
has reached the state corresponding to B. It is clear that, if tho
intersection of the edge of tue shaded stnp with the line of mo-
mentum be identical with the point A, which indicates that the
.•atcllite is just touching the planet, then the two bodies are in
effect p.irts of a single body in an unstable configuration. If.
therefore, the moon was originally part of the earth, we should
expect to find this identity Now in fig. 9. drawn to scale to re-
present the earth and moon, there is so close an approach between
the edge of the shaded band and the intersection of tho line ot
momentum and curve of rigidity that it would be scarcely nossible
to distinguish them Hence, there seems a probability that the
two hndies onc<» formed parts of a single one. which broke up in
consequence of some kind of instability. This view is confirmed
by the more detailed consideration of the case in the paper on the
'• Precession of a Viscous Spheroid," already referred to, and sub-
sequent papers, m the Philosophical Transaclums of tho Royal
Society.*
1 For further consideration of thi-j subject see a series of papers by Mr G. H.
Darwin, in Proceed, and Trans, of tne Koyal Society from 1878 to 1881. and
Appendix G (b) to part ii. vol. i. of Thomson aod Xait's A'al. PhiLt 1883>
TIDES
377
Acceleri'
tiou of
mooa's
motion
due to
tidal
frictioD.
VSTIOUS
esti-
mates of
tcDoant.
Vomeri-
cal result
as to
earth's
rotation.
§ 48. Amount of Tidal Retardation of Earth's Eolation.
With respect to the actual amount of retardation of the earth's
rotation, we quote the following from Thomson and Tait's Nat.
PhU. C1SS3), § S30.»
" In observational astronomy the earth's rotation serves as a time-
keeper, and thus a retardation of terrestrial rotation will appear
astronomically as an acceleration of the motion of the heavenly
bodies. It is only in the case of the moon's motion that such an
apparent acceleration can be possibly detected. Now, as Laplace
first pointed out, there must be a slow variation in the moon's
mean motion arising from the secular changes in the eccentricity
, of the earth's orbit around the sun. At the present time, and for
' several .thousand years in the future, the variation in the moon's
motion is and will be an acceleration. Laplace's theoretical
calculation of the amount of that acceleration appeared to agree
well with the results which were in his day accepted as represent-
ing the facts of observation. ' But in 1353 Adams showed that
Laplace's reasoning was at fault, and that the numerical results of
Damoiseau's and Plana's theories with reference to it consequently
require to be sensibly altered. Hansen's theory of the secular
acceleration b vitiated by an error of principle similar to that
which affects the theories of Damoiseau and Plana ; but, the mathe-
matical process which he followed being different from theirs, he
arriyed at somewhat different results. From the erroneous theory
Hansen found the value of 12"1S for the coefficient of the term in
the moon's mean longitude depending on the square of the time,
the unit of time being a century ; in a later computation given in
his DarU^ng he found the coefficient to be 12°'56.' „
" In 1859 Adams communicated to Delaunay his final result,
namely, that the coefficient of this term appears f. om a correctly con-
ducted investigation to be S"'?, so that at the end of a century the
moon is 5'1 before the position it would have 'cad at th' san-e time
if its mean angular velocity had remained the same as at the begin-
ning of the century. Dekunay verified this result, and added some
further small terms which increased the coefficient from 5"7 to S"'!.
"Now, according to Airy, Hansen's value of the 'advance'
represents very we'd the circumstances of the eclipses of Agathocles,
Larissa, and 'Thaies, but is if anything too small. Newcomb, on
the other hand, is inclined from an elaborate discussion of the
ancient eclipses to believe Hansen's value to be too large, and gives
two competing values, viz., 8"'4 and 10"'9.'
" In any case it follows that the value of the advance as theoreti-
cally deduced from all the causes, known up to the present time to
be operative, is smaller than that which agrees with observatioif.
In what follows 12" is taken as the observational value of the
advance, and 6" as the explained part of this phenomenon. About
the beginning of 1866 Delaunay- suggested that the true explana-
tion of the discrepancy might be a retardation of the earth's rota-
tion by tidal friction. Using this hypothesis, and allowing for the
consequent retardation of the moon's mean motion by tidal reaction,
Adams, in an estimate which he has communicated to us, founded
on the rough assumption that the parts of the earth's retardation
due to solar and lunar tides are as the squares of the respective
tide-generating forces, finds 22 sec as the error by which the earth,
regarded as a time-keeper, would in a century get behind a perfect
clock rated at the beginning of the century. 'Thus at the end of a
century a meridian of the earth is 330" behind the position in
which it would have been ' if the earth had continued to rotate
with the same angular velocity which it had at the beginning of
the century. . . .
" Whatever be the value of the retardation of the earth's rotation
it b necessarily the result of several causes, of which tidal friction is
almost certainly preponderant. If we accept Adams's estimate as
applicable to the outcome of the various concuning causes, then, if
the rate of retardation giving the integral effect were uniform, the
earth as a time-keeper- would be going slower by "22 of a second per
year in the middle, and by '44 of a second per year at the end, than at
the beginnmg of the century. The latter is =y;= — —^ of the present
angular velocity ; and, if the rate of retardation had been uniform
during ten million centaries past, the earth must have been rotat-
ing faster by about one-seventh than at' present, and the centri-
' See aljo G. H. Darwin's Address to Sat. A, Brit. Assoc, meeting, 1886.
2 *' ii appears not onosual for pLysical aatroDomere to use an abbreviated
phras?ologj, for specifjlDg accelerations, which needs explanation. Thas
When ttwy speak of the secular acceleration being, e.g., * 12"-56 In a century '
tlicj- mean by ' acceleration ' what is more properly ' the effect of the accelera-
pon on the moon's raean longitude." The correct unabbreviated statement is
the acceleration is 25"-12 per century per century.' Thus Hansen's result is
that in each century the mean motion of the moon is augmented by an angular
velixity of 25"-12 per century, so that at the end of a century the mean longi-
tude 13 greater by \ of 25"12 than it wonld have been had the moon's mean
motion remained the same as it was at the beginning of the century Con-
•idenng how absurd It would be to speak of a falling body as eiperienclng an
acc«leratioo of 16 feet in a second, or of 64 feet in two seconds, and how tolse
and Inconvenient it is to speak of a watch being 20 seconds tut when it is 20
seconds in advance of where it ought to be, we venture to anggest that to
attain clearness and correctness without sacrifice of brevity, 'advance' l)e sub-
stituted for 'acceleration' in the ordinaryastronomlcal phnseology "
* &Karc»« on (As ifolion <i/(ft< ifoon, WashlnjitOD, 1878.
Thom-
son's ar-
gument
as toagf
of con-
solida-
tion of
earth.
Great
uncer-
tainty
in pre-
ce(Ung
numbers.
fugal force mnst have been greater in the proportion of 817' to
7 17' or of 67 to 51. If the consolidation took place then or earlier,
the ellipticity of the upper layers must have been ^^ instead of
about 5^5, as it is at present. It must necessarily remain uncertain
whether the earth would from time to time adjust itself completely
to a figure of equilibrium adapted to the rotation. But it is clear
that a want of complete adjustment would leave traces in a pre-
ponderance of land in equatorial regions. The existence of large
continents and the great effective ligidity of the earth's mass
render it improbable that the adjustments, if any, to the appropri-
ate figure of equilibrium would be complete. The fact then that
the continents are arranged along meridians rather than in an
equatorial belt affords some degree of proof that the consolidation
of the earth took place at a time when the diurnal rotation differed
but little from its present value. It is probable, therefore, that
the date of consolidation is considerably more recent than a thou-
sand million years ago. It is proper, however, to add that Adams,
lays but little stress on the actual numerical values which have
been used in this computation, and is of opinion that the amount
of tidal retardation of the earth's rotation is quite uncertain."
§ 49. Effects of Tidal Friction on the Elements of the Itaeii't
Oi'bit and on the Earth's Rotation,
It wonld be impossible within the limits of the present article to Effects of
discuss completely the effects of tidal friction ; we therefore confine tidal
ourselves to certain general considerations which throw light on friction,
the nature of those effects. We have in the preceding sections
supposed that the planet's axis is perpendicular to the orbit of the
satellite, and that the latter is circolar ; we shall now suppose the
orbit to be oblique to the equator "and eccentric, and shall also
consider some of the effects o/ the solar perturbation of the moon-
earth system. , For the sake of brevity the planet will be called
the earth, and the satellite the moon. The complete investigation
was carried out on the hypothesis that the planet was a viscotis
spheroid, becatise this was the only theory of frictionalJy resisted
tides which had been worked out. Although the results would be
practically the same lor any system of frictionally resisted rides,
we shall speak below of the planet or earth as a viscous body.*
We shall show that if the tidal retardation be small the obliquity Obli-
of the ecliptic increases, the earth's rotation is retarded, and thequlty of
moon's distance Mid periodic time are increased. Fig. 10 represents the
the earth as seen from above the ^^^-— ^^..^ ecliptic
south pole, BO that S is the pole
and the outer circle the equator.
The earth's rotation is in the
direction of the curved arrow at
S. The half of the inner circle /^ ,
which is drawn with a full line is *' ""
a semi-small-circle of south lati-
tude, and the dotted semicircle is
a semi -small -circle in the same
north latitude. Generally dotted
lines indicate parts of the figure
which are below the plane of the ^ jq
paper. It will make the explana-
tion somewhat simpler if we suppose the tides to be raised by a
moon and anti-moon diametrically opposite to one another. Let
M and M' be the projections of the moon and anti-moon on to the
terrestrial sphere. If the fluid in which the tides are raised were
perfectly frictionless,' or if the earth were a perfect fluid or per-
fectly elastic, the apices of the tidal spheroid would be at M and
M'. If, however, there is internal friction, due to any sort of
viscosity, the tides will lag, and we may suppose the tidal apices
to be at T and T'. Now suppose the tidal protuberances to be
replaced by two equal heavy particles at T and T', which are in-
stantaneously rigidly connected with the earth. ITien the attrac-
tion of the moon on T is greater than on T', and that of the anti-
moon on T' is greater than on T. The resultant of these forces is
clearly a pair of forces acting on the earth in the direction TM,
T'M'. These forces clearly cause a couple about the axis in the
equator, which lies in the same meridian as the moon and anti-
moon. The direction of the couple ■. shown by the curved arrows-
at L,L'. If the effects of this couple be compounded with the
existing rotation of the earth according to the principle of the
gyroscope, the south pole S tends to approach M and the north
pole to approach M'. Hence, supposing the moon to move in the
ecliptic, the inclination of the earth's axis to the ecliptic dimin-
ishes, or the obliquity increases. Next the forces TM, 'i"M' clearly
produce, as in the simpler case considered above, a couple about th©
earth's polar axis, which tends to retard the diurnal rotation.
This general explanation remains a fair representation of the
state of the case so long as the different harmonic constituents of
the aggregate tide-wave do not suffer very different amounts of re-
* These explanations, together with other remarks, are to be found in the
abstracts of Mr O. H. Darwin's mepioirs in Proc. iZoy- Soc., l87§-to 1881.
B We here suppose the tides not to be inverted. Ijf they are inverted the
' ~'>cla3iOD is precisely the same.
378
TIDES
tardatioD ; and this is the case lo long as the viscosity is not great.
The rigorous result for a viscous planet shows that in general the
obliquity will increase, and it appears that, with small viscosity of
the planet, ;f the period of the satellite be longer than two periods
of rotation of the planet, the obliquity increases, and vice versa.
Hence zero obliquity is only dynamically stable when the period
of the satellite is less than two periods of the planet's rotation.
Inchna- Suppose the motions of the planet and of its solitary satellite,to,
liOD of be referred to the invariable plane of^ the system. The axis of
plane of resultant moment of momentum is normal to this pTan^, an.d the
orbit component rotations are that of the planet about its axis of figure
geuerally aud the orbital motion of the planet and satellite round their com-
Jorreasea. mon centre of inertia ; the axis of this latter'rotation is cleail/the
normal to the satellite's orbit Hence the normal to the orbit, the
axis of resultant moment of momentum, aud the planet's axis
of rotation must always lie in one plane. From tliis it follows
that the orbit and the planet's equator must necessarily have a
common node on the invariable plane. If either of the component
'rotations alters in amount or direction, a corresponding change
must take place in the other, such as will keep the resultant
'rooEaeot of momentum constant in direction and magnitude. It
has been shown that the effect of tidal friction is to increase the
' iistance of the satellite from the planet, and to transfer moment
of momentum from that of planetary rotation to that of orbital
iDotion. If, then, the direction of the planet's axis of rotation
does not change, it follows that the normal to the lunar orbit must
approach the axis of resultant moment of momentum. By dravv'ing
& series of parallelograms on the same diameter and keeping one
side constant 'm^ direction, this may be easily seen to be true. This
is equivalent to saying that the inclination of tho satellite's orbit
will decrease. But this decrease of inclination does not always
necessarily take place, for tho previous investigations show that
anothet effect of tidal friction may be to increase the obliquity of
the planet's equator to the invariable plane, or, in other words, to
increase the inclination of the planet's axis to the axis of resultant
moment of momentum. Now, if a parallelogram be drawn with
a constant diameter, it is seen that by increasing the inclination
of one of the sides to the diameter (and even decreasing its length)
the inclination of the other side to the diameter may also be in-
creased. The most favourable case for such a change is when the
Bide whose inclination is increased is nearly as long as the diameter.
From this it follows that the inclination of the satellite's orbit to the
invariable plane may increase, and that it is most likely to increase,
when the moment of momentum of planetary rotation is large com-
pared with that of the orbital motion. The analytical solution of
the problem agrees \vith these results, for it shows that if the vis-
cosity of the planet be small the inclination of the orbit always
diminishes, but if the viscosity be large, and if the satellite moves
with a short periodic time (as estimated in rotations of the planet),
the inclination of the orbit will increase. These results convey
some idea of the physical causes which may havo given rise to the
present inclination of the lunar orbit to the ecliptic For the
analytical investigation shows that the inclination of the lunar
erbit to a certain plane, which replaces the invariable plane when
tho solar attraction is introduced, was initially small, that it then
incri>ased to a maximum, and that it Anally diminished and is stUl
dimi»:ishing.
But the laws above referred to would, by themselves, afford a very
unsatis.''actory explanation^f the inclination of the lunar orbit, be-
cause tK^ sun's attraction is a matter of much importance. It has
been foui'd that, if the viscosity of the planet be small, the in-
clination of the orbit of the solitary satellite to the invariable plane
will always diminish ; but, when solar influence is introduced, the
corresponding; statement is not true with regard to the inclination
of the lunar crbit to the proper plane, for during one part of the
■ moon's history the inclination to the proper plane would, have
' tncreased even if the viscosity of the eartn had been small.
Eccen- Consider a satellite revolving about a planet in an elliptic orbit,
tricity of with a periodicVme which is long compared with the period of rota-
orbit tion of the planed ; and suppose that frictional tides are raised on
generally the planet. The major axis of the tidal spheroid always points in
increases, advance of the sat«^liite, and exercises on it a force which tends to
accelerate its linear velocity. When the satellite is in perigee the
tides are higher, and this disturbing force is greater than when the
satellite is in apogee. The disturbing force may therefore be repre-
sented as a constant force, always tending to accelerate the motion
of the satellite, and as a periodic force 'which accelerates in perigee
and retards in apogee. The constant force causes a secular increase
of the satellite's mean distance and a retardation of its mean motion.
, The accelerating force in perigee causes the satellite to swing out
further than it would otherwise have done, so that when it comes
round to apogee it is more remote from the planet The retarding
force y» apogee acts exactly inversely, and diminishes the perigean
distance. Thus, the apogean distance increases and the perigean
But il distance diminishes, or, in other words, the eccentricity of the orbit
may de- increases. Now consider another case, and suppose the satellite's
crease, periodic time to bo identical with that of the planet's rotation.
Then, when the satellite is in perigee, it fs moving faster than th«
planet rotates, and when iti apogee it is moving slower ; hence at
apogee the tides lag, and at perigee they are accelerated Now the
lagging apogean tides give rise to an accelerating force on the
satellite, and increase the perigean distance, whilst the arcelerated
perigean tides give rise to a retarding force, and decrease the
apogean distance. Hence in this case the eccentricity of the orbit
will diminish. It follows from these two results that there most
be some intcrrnediatC periodic time nf the satellite for which the
■eccentricity docs riot tend to vary.
But the preceding general explanation is in reality somewhat le$8'
.satisfactory than it seems,- because it does not make clear the
cxisten'ce of certain antagonistic infliie'nces, to which, however, we
shall not. refer. The rigorous result, for a viscous planet, shows
that in gencml the- eccentricity of the orbit will increase , but, if
the obliquity pf the planet's equator be nearly 90^ or if the viscosity
bo so great as to approach perfect rigidity, or if the periodic time
\of the satellite (measured in rotations of the planet) be short, the
eccentricity will slowly diminish; When the viscosity is small the
law of variation of eccentricity is very simple : if eleven periods
ofthe satellite occupy a longer time than eighteen rotations of tho
planet, the eccentricity increases, and vice versa.. Hence in the
case of small viscosity a circular orbit is only dynamically stable
if the eleven periods are shorter than the eighteen rotations.
X. CosMOGONic Speculations founded on Tidal FRiCTioy."
§ 50. Eiitonj of the Earth and Moon.
We shall not attempt to discuss the mathematical methods by
which the complete history of a- planet, attended by one or more
satellites, is to be traced. The laws indicated in the preceding
sections show that there is such a problem, and that it may be
solved, and we refer to Mr Darwin's papers for details (Phil. Trans.,
] 879-81). It may be interesting, however, to give the various
results of the investigation in the form of a sketch of the possible,
evolution of the earth and moon, followed by remarks ou the other ,
planetary systems and on the solar system as a whole.
We begin with a planet not very much more than 8000 miles in Oox^Jeo
diameter, and probably partly solid, partly fluid, and partly gaseous, tuial
It is rotating about an axis inclined at about 11" or 12° to the nor* genealso/
mal to the ecliptic, with a period of from two to four hours, and is moon
revolving about the sun with a period rot much shorter than our from
present year. The rapidity of the planet's rotation causes so gre^tterth.
a compression of its figure that it cannot continue to exist in an
ellipsoidal form with stability ; or else it is so nearly unstable that
complete instability is induced by the solar tides. The planet then
separates into two masses, the larger being the eartn and the
smaller tho moon. It is not attempted to define the mode of
separation, or to say whether the moon was initially a chain of
meteorites. At any rate it must be assumed that the smaller mass
became more or less conglomerated and finally fused into a spheroid, '
perhaps in consequence of impacts between its constituent mete-
orites, which were once part of the primeval planet. Up to this
point the history is largely speculative, for the conditions of insta-
bility of a rotating mass of fluid have not yet been fully investigated. .
We now have the earth and moon nearly in contact with one Earth
another, and rotating nearly as though they were parts of one rigid and
body.' This is the system which was the subject of dynamical rnocKi
investigation. As the two masses are not rigid, the attraction of subject
each distorts the other ; and, if they do not move rigorously with of inre^'
the same periodic time, e?ch raises a tide in the other. Also the ti^tloiw
snn raises tides in both. In consequence of the frictional resistance
to these tidal motional such a system is dynamically unstable. If
the moon had moved orbitally a little faster than the earth rotated,
she must have fallen back into the earth ; thus the existence of
the raoon compels us to bblieve that the equilibrium broke down
by the moon revolving orbitally a little slower than the earth
rotates. In consequence of the tidal friction the perioidic rimes both
of the moon (or the month) and of the earth's rotation (or the day)
increase ; but the month increases in length at a much greater
rate than the day. At some early stage in the history of the system
the moon was conglomerated into a spheroi'dal form, and acquired
a rotation about an axis nearly parallel to that of the earth.
The axial rotation of the moon is retarded by the attraction of The
the earth on the tides raised in the moon, and this retardation takes moon
place at a far greater rate than the similar retardation of the earth's
rotation. As soon a-i the moon rotates round her axis with twice
the angular velocity with which she revolves in her orbit, the
position of her axis of rotation (parallel with tho earth's axis)
becomes dynamically unstable. The obliquity of the lunar equator ^
to the plane of tho orbit increases, attains a maximum, and then
diminishes. Meanwhile the lunar axial rotation is being reduced
towards identity with the orbital motion. Finally, her equator is
nearly coincident with the plane of the orbit, and the attraction of
the earth on a tide, wluch degenerates into a permanent ellipticity
1 See criticisms by Mr Kolao, Geiiesit q/iloon, Melbourne, 1S85 ; also Hatytrtt
16th February 1SS6.
TIDES
379
of the lonar equator, causes her always to show the same face to
the eartK
Theearth All this must have taken place early in the history of the earth,
indltmarto which we now return. As the month increases in length .the
9rbiL lunar orbit becomes eccentric, and the eccentricity reaches a maxi-
mum when the month occupies about a rotation and a half of the
earth. The maximum of eccentricity is probably not large. After
this the eccentricity diminishes. The plane of the lunar orbit is
at first practically identical with the earth's equator, but as the
moon recedes from the earth the sun's attraction begins to make
itself felt. We must therefore introduce the conception of two
ideal planes (here called the proper planes), to which the motion
of the earth and moon must be referred. 'The lunar proper plane
is at first inclined at a very small angle to the earth's proper plane,
and the orbit and equator coincide with their respective proper
planes.- A3 soon as the earth rotates with tmce the angular velocity
with which the moon revolves in her orbit, a new instability sets
in. The month is then about twelve of our present hours, and
the day about six snch hours in length. The inclinations of the
lun^ o];bit and of the equator to their respective proper planes
increase. That of the lunar orbit to its proper plane increases to
a n;aximum of 6" or 7°, and ever after diminishes, that of the
equator to its proper plane increases to a maximum of about
2 45', and ever after <^minishes. The maximum inclination of
the lunar orbit to its proper plan© takes place when the day is a
little less than nine of our present hours, and the month a little
less thn-n six of our present days. The maximum inclination of
the' equator to its- proper plane takes place earlier than this.
"Whilst these changes have been going on the proper planes have
been themselves changing in their positions relatively to one
another and to the ecliptic. At first they were nearly coincident
with one another and with the earth's equator, but they then
open ouf, and the inclination of the lunar proper plane to the
ecliptic continually diminishes, whilst that of the terrestrial proper
plane continually increases. At some stage the earth became
more rigid, and oceans were formed, so that oceanic tidal friction
probably came to play a more important part than bodily tidal
mction. If this be the case, the eccentricity of the orbit, after
passing through a stationary phase, begins to increase again.
We have now traced the system to a state in which the day an^
month are increasing, but at unequal rates, the inclination of the
lunar proper plane to the ecliptic and of the orbit to the proper
plane are diminishing, the inclination of the terrestrial proper
, plane to the ecliptic is increasing and of the equator to its proper
plane is diminishing, and the eccentricity of the brbit is increasing.
No new phase now supervenes and at length we have the system
in its present configuration. The minimum time in which the
changes from first to last can have taken place is 54,000,000 years.
Distor- There are other collateral results which must arise from a sup-
tion of posed primitive viscosity or plasticity of the earth's mass. For
plastic during this course of evolution the earth's mass must have suffered
planet, a screwing motion, so that the polar regions have travelled a little
from west to east relatively to the equator. This affords a possible
explanation of the north and south trend of our great continents.
Also a large amount of heat has been generated by friction deep
down in the earth ; and some very small part of the observed in-
crease of temperature in underground borings may be attribut^le
to this cause. The preceding history might vary a little in detail
according to the degree of viscosity which we attribute to the
earth's mass, and according as oceanic tidal friction is or is not,
now and in the more recent past, a more powerful cause of change
than bodily tidal friction. The argument reposes on the imperfeet
rigidity of solids and on the internal friction of semi-solids and
The fluids ; these are veras causa!. Thus changes of the kind here dis-
theory cussed must be going on, and must have gone on in the past. And
postn- for this history of tne earth and moon to be true throughout, it is
lates suf- only necessary to postulate a sufficient lapse of time, and that there
ficient is not enough matter diffused through space to materially resist
lapse of the motions of the moon and earth in perhaps 200,000,000 years,
time. It seems hardly too much to say that, granting these two postu-
lates, and the existence of a primeval planet, such as that above
described, a system would necessarily be developed which would bear
a strong resemblance to our own. A theory, reposing on veras causae,
which brings into quantitative correlation the lengths of the present
day and month, the obliquity of the ecliptic, and the incbnation
and eccentricity of the lunar orbit should have claims to acceptance.
§ 5L The Other Planetary Subsystems.
Other If this has been the evolution of th^ earth and moon, a similar
pUnet- process must have been going on elsewhere. So far we have only
ary Bub- considered a single satellite and the sun, but the theory may of
systems, course be extended, with modifications, to planets attended by
several satellites. We will now, therefore, consider some of the
other members of the solar systam. A large planet has much more
energy of rotation to be destroyed, and moment of inomentnm to
be redistributed, than a small one, and therefore a large planet
ought to proceed in its evolution more elowlv than a small one.
Therefore we ought to find the larger planets less advanced than
the smaller ones. The masses of such of the planets as have satel-
lites are, in terms of the earth's -mass, as follows: — Mars=|;
Jupiter=340 ; Satum = 100; Uranus=17; Neptune=20.
Mars should therefore bo furthest advanced, in its evolution, and Vtxt,
it is here alone in the whole system that we find a satellite moving
orbitally faster -than the planet rotates. This will also be the
ultimate fate of our moon, because, after its orbital motion has
been reduced to identity with that of the earth's rotation, solar
tidal .friction will further reduce the earth's angular velocity;
the tidal reaction on the moon will then be reversed, and the
moon's orbital velocity will increase and her distance from the
earth diminish. But, since the moon's mass ia very large, she
must recede to an enormous distance from the earth before this
reversal takes place. Now the satellites of Mars are very small,
and therefore they need only recede a very short distance from the
planet before the reversal of tidal reaction. The periodic time of
the satellite Deimos is 30* 18™, and, as the period of rotation of
Mars is 24'' 37", Deimos must be still receding from Mars, but
very slowly. The periodic time of the satellite Phobos is 7'' 39"° j
therefore it must bo approaching Mars. It does not seem likely
that it has ever been remote from the planet.' The eccentricities
of the orbits of both satellites are small : that of Deimos is '0057
and that of Phobos '0065. If the -viscosity of the planet be small,
or if oceanic tidal friction be the principal cause of change, both
eccentricities are diminishing ; but, if the viscosity be large, both
are increasing. As we have no means of knowing whether the
eccentricities are increasing or diminishing, the larger eccentricity
of the orbit of Phobos cannot be a fact of much importance either
for or against the present -views. But it must be admitted that it
is a slightly unfavourable indication. The position of the proper
plane of a satellite is determined by the periodic time of the
satellite, the oblateness of the planet, and the sun's distance. The
inclination of the orbit of a satellite to the proper plane is not
determined by anything in the system. Hence it is only the
inclination of the orbit which can afford any argument for or
against the theory. The proper planes of both satellites are
necessarily nearly coincident with the equator of the planet ; but
it is in accordance with the theory that the inclinations of the
orbits to their respective proper planes should be small. Any
change in the obliquity of the equator of Mars to the plane of his
orbit must be entirely due to solar tides. The present obliquity is
about 30°, and this points also to an advanced stage of evolution,
at least if the axis of the planet was primitively at aU nearly per-
pendicular to the ecliptic
Wo now come to the system of Jupiter. This enormous planet Jupitec
is stUl rotating in about ten hours ; its axis is nearly perpendicular
to the ecliptic ; and three of its satellites revolve in seven days or
less, whilst the fourth has a period of IC* 16*^. This system is
obviously far less advanced than our own. The inclinations of
the proper planes to Jupiter's equator are necessarily small, but
the inclinations of the orbits to tho proper planes appear to be '
very interesting from .a theoretical point of view. They are in !
the ease of the first satellite 0" C 0", in the case of the second i
0° 27' 50", in that of the third 0° 12' 20", and in that of the fourth
0° 14' 58". We have shown above that the orbit of a satellite is
first coinci.-Jent with its proper plane, and that the inclination
afterwards rises to a maximum and filially declines. If then we
may assume, as seems reasonable, that the satellites are in stages
of evolutton corresponding to their distances from the planet, these
inclinations accord well with the theory. The eccentricities of the
orbits of the two inner satellites are insensible, those of the outer
two small. This does not tell strongly either for or against the
theory, because the history of the eccentricity depends considerably
on the nature of -the friction to which the tides are subject. Yet
it on the whole agrees with the theory that the eccentricity should
be greater in the more remote satellites. It appears that the satel-
lites of Jupiter always present the same face to the planet, just as
does our moon. This was to be expected.
The case of Saturn is not altogetner so favourable to the theory. Satun^
The extremely rapid rotation, the ring, and the short periodic time '^ '
of the inner satellites point to an early stage of development ; whilst
the longer periodic time of the three outer satellites and the high
obliquity of the equator indicate a later stage. Perhaps both views
may be more or less correct, for successive shedding of satellites
would impart a modem appearance to the system. It has probably
been previously remarked that the Saturnian system bears a strong
analogy to the solar system. Titan being analogous to Jupiter,
Hyperion and lapetus to Uranus and Neptune, and the inner satel.
lites to the inner planets. Thus anything which aids us in forming
a theory of the one system will throw light on <he other. The
details of the Saturnian system seem to be more or less favourable
to the theory. The proper planes of the orbits 'except that of
lapetus) are nearly in the plane of the ring, and the inclinations
of all" the orbits thereto appear not to be large. As the result of
1 Ur NolAD coDBiders the ttaeor; Inapplicable to the case of M&rs ; see Aoture,
S9th July 18S6.
380
TIDES
& careful series of obscrrationa made at Washington in 1873, Prof.
Ajaph Hall ' finds that the eccentricities of the orbits of Mimas
Enceladus, Tethys, Dione, and Rhea are insensible, that of Titan
ia -0284, of Hyperion -1000, and that of lapetus -0278. The satel-
lite lapctHS appears always to present the same face to the planet. '
Tlrajius Concerning Uranus and Neptune there is not much to bo said,
and as their systems are veiy little known ; but their masses are much
Neptune, larger than that of the earth, and their satellites revolve with a
short periodic time. The retrograde motion and high inclination
of the satellites of Uranus are very remarkable. The theory of the
inclination of the orbit has been based on an as,^med smallness of
'jKlination, and it is not very easy to see to what results investi-
gation might lead if the inclination were large. It must be ad-
mitted, however, that the Uranian system points to the probability
Df the existence of a primitive planet, whh retrograde rotation, oi
at least with a very large obliquity of equator.
It appears from this review that the other members of the solar
system present some phenomena which are strikingly favourable tc
the tidal theory of evolution, and none -which are absolutely con-
demnatory. We shall show in the following section that then,
are reasons why tlie tidalfriction arising in the planetary system?
cannot? have had so much effect as in the case of the earth and moon.
That the indications which we liave just noted were not inorf
jnarked, but 'yet seemed to exist, agrees well with Ihic conclusion.
" § 52.JnflMiiCe of Tidal Friction on the Evolvlion qftht
Solar System.
Sola. According to the nebular hypothesis, the planets and the satellites
.•system '*'" portions detached from contracting nebulous masses. _ In the
iis'a following discussion that hypothesis will be accepted in its main
whole. outline, and we shall examine what modifications are necessitated
.hy the inRuence of tidal friction. It may bo shown that the
reaction of the tides raised in the sun by the planets must have
had a very small influence in changing tho dimensions of the
planetary orbits round the sun. . From a consid<'ratlon of numerical
data with regard to the solar system and the planetary subsystems, .
it appears improbable that tho planetary orbits have ijceu sensibly
enlarged by tidal friction since the origin of the several planets.
But it is possible that some very small part of the eccentricities of
Piano- the planetary orbits is due to this cause. From arguments similar
tuj-y sub- to those advanced with regard to the solar system as a whole, it
eyetems. appears unlikely that the satellites of Jlars, Jupiter, and Saturn
originated very much nearer tho present surfaces of the planets
than we now observe them. But, the data being insuflficient, wo
cannot feel sure that the alteration in the dimensions of tho orbits
of these satellites has not been considerable. It remains, however,
nearly certain that they cannot have first originated almost in con-
tact with the present surfaces of the planets, in the same way as
in the preceding sketch (§ 50) has been shown to be probable
with regard to the raoon and earth. Numerical data concerning
the distribution of moment of momentum in the several planetary '
Bub-systems exhibit so striking a difference between the terres-
trial system and those of the other planets that we should from
this alone have grounds for believing that the modes of evolution
Jiave been considerably different. Tho difference appears to lio
In the genesis of tho moon close to the present surface of the
'planet, and we shall see below that solar tidal friction may be as-
'eigned as a reason to explain how it has happened that tho terres-
■trial planet had contracted to nearly its present dimensions before
jthe genesis of a satellite, but that this was not the case wdth the
(exterior plauets. The efficiency of solar tidal friction is very much
Icreater in its action on the nearer planets than on the further ones.
The time, however, during which solar tidal friction has been
bperatin» on the external planets is probably much longer than the
period of its efficiency for the interior ones, and a series of numbers
proportional to the total amount of rotation destroyed in the several
planets would present a far less rapid decrease as we recede from
the sun than numbers simply expressive of tho efficiency of tidal
friction at the several planets. Nevertheless it must be admitted -
that tho effect produced by solar tidal friction on Jupiter ^nd
Saturn has not been nearly so great as on the interior planets.
And, as already stated, it is Very improbable that so large an
amount of momentum should have been destroyed as to materially
laffect the orbits of the planets round the sun. ,
Diatriba- We will now examine how the differences of distance from the
Uon of sun would be likely to affect the histories of the several planetary
satellites masses. According to the nebular hypothesis, a planetaiy nebula
amongst contracts, and rotates quicker as it contracts. The rapidity of the
tho revolution causes it to become unstable, or perhaps an equatorial
rlansta.! belt gradually detaches itself; it is immaterial which of these two
really takes place. In either case the separation of that part of the
'mass which before tho change had the greatest angular momentum
.permits the central portion to resume a planetary shape. The
'contraction and the increase of rotation proceed continually until
^nother portion is detached, and so on. There thus recur at inter-
(Vals a aeries of epochs of instability or of abnormal change. Now
""^ > a<>e BtU. Aiax. Jitporl, 18S«. p. S43. ~
tidal friction must diminish" the rate of increase of rotation "due to'
contraction, and therefore if tidal friction and contraction aro at
work together the epochs of instability must recur more rarely!
than if contraction alone acted. If the tidal retardation is suffi-
ciently great, the increase of rotation due to contraction will be so'
far counteracted as never to permit an epoch of instability to occur-'
Since the rate of retardation duo to solar tidal friction decreases'
rapidly as we recede from the sun, these considerations accord with
what we observe in the solar system. For ilcrcury and Venus
have no satellites, and there is a progressive increase in the number
of satellites as we recede from the sun. Moreover, the number of
satellites is not directly connected with the mass of the planet, foi^
Venus has nearly the same mass as the earth and has no satcllitef'
and the earth has relatively by far the largest satellite of the wholql
system. M'hether this be the true cause of the observed distribu^
tion of satellites amongst the planets or not, it is remarkable that
the same cause also affords an explanation, as we shall now show,i
of that difference between the earth with the moon and the other'
planets with their satellites which -has caused tidal friction to bo',
the principal agent of change with the former but not with the Case of
latter. In the case of the contracting terrestrial mass w-c may earthu»>
suppose that there was for a long time nearly a balance betw-ecn niooa^
the retardation due to solar tidal friction and the acceleration differwiiJ
due to contraction, and that it was not lujtil the planetary mass from
had contracted to nearly its present dimensions that an epoch others,
of instability could occur. It may also be noted that if there be
two equal planetary masses which generate satellites, but, tinder
very different conditions as to the degree of condensatiorL of the
masses, the two satellites will be likely to differ in m^ss ; we
cannot of course tell which of the two planets would generate tho
larger satellite. 1'hus, if the genesis of the moon was 'deferred
until a late epoch in the history of the terrestrial mass, the
mass of tho moon relatively to the earth would be likely to differ
from the mass of other satellites relatively to their planets. If
the contraction of the planetary mass be almost completed before
the genesis of the satellite, tidal friction, due jointly to the satellite
and to the sun, will thereafter be the great cause of change in the
system ; and thus the hypothesis that it is the sole cause of change
wlU give an approximately accurate explanation of the motion of
the planet and satellite at any subsequent time. We have already
seen that the theory that tidal friction has been the ruling power
in the evolution of the earth and moon coordinates the present
motions of the two bodies and carries us back to an initial state
when the moon first had a separate existence as a satellite ; and the
initial configuration of the two bodies is such that we are led tol
believe that the moon is a portion of the primitive earth detached
by rapid rotation or other causes. There seems to be some reay i
to suppose that the earliest form in which the moon had a separarte
existence was as a ring or chain of meteorites ; but this conditiffti
precedes that to which the dynamical investigation leads back.
Let us now turn to the other planetary sub-systems. The satellites
of the larger planets revolve with short periodic times ; this admits
of a simple explanation, for tho smallness of their masses would
have- prevented tidal friction from being_ a very efficient cause ot
change in the dimensions of their orbits,'aBd tte largeness of the
planet's masses would have caused them to proceed slowly in their
evolution. If the planets be formed itoia chains of meteorites or
of nebulous matter, their rotation has arisen from the excess of
orbital momentum of the exterior over that of the interior matter, f
As we have no means of knowing how broad the chain may have
been in any case, nor how much it may have closed in on tiie sun
in course-Df concentration, we are unable to compute the primitive
angular momentum of a planet. , A rigorous metnod of comparison
of the primitive rotations of the several planets is thus wanting.
If, however, the planets were formed under similar conditiona,'then
we should expect to find the exterior planets now rotating more
, rapidly than the interior ones. On making allowance for the differ-,
ent degrees of concentration of the planets, this is the case.- That'
the inner satellite of Mars revolves with a period of less than a _
third of the planet's rotation is perhaps the most remarkable fact Satel-
in the solar system. The theory of tidal friction explains this litea of
perfectly ; and this will be the ultimate fate of all satellites, be- .Mam
cause the solar tidal friction retards the planetary rotation without
directly affecting the satellite's orbital motion, _ Nutnerical comv
parison shows'that tho efficiency of solar tidal friction in retarding
the terrestrial and martian rotations is of about the same degree
of importance, notwithstanding the much greater distance of the
planet Mars. In the above discussion it will have been apparent
that the earth and moon do actually differ from the other planets
to such an extent as to permit tidal friction to have been tho most
important factor in their history.
By an examination of the probable effects of solar tidal frictioiiBummary
on a contracting planetary mass, we have been led to assign a
cause for the observed distribution of satellites in the solar system
and this again has itself afforded an explanation of how it happened
that the moon so originated that tho tidal friction of the lunar
Ttides in the earth should have been able to exercise so large an
T 1 D — T I E
381
influence. We hare endeavoured not only to set forth the in-
flueuce which tidal friction may have, and probably has, had in
the history of the system, if sulEcient liiuc be granted, but also
to point out wliat effects it cannot have produced. These invfcsti-
gatioos afford no grounds for the rejection of the nebular hypo-
thesis ; but, wliilc they present evidence in favour of the main
outlines of tl »' theory, tliey introduce modifications of consider-
able importance. Titlil friction is a cause of change of which
Laplace's theory took no account; and, ahhough the activity of
tliat cause uuiy he rcganied as mainly belonging; to a later period
than the events described in the nebiilar hypothesis, yet it seems
chat its InHuence ha? been of grcaU and iu one instance of even
paramount importance in determining the present condition cff the
planets and their satellites. Throughout tite whole of this dis
cussion it has been supposed tliat suthcicnt time is at our dis-
posal ; Sir W'. ■Thomson and others have, however, adduced rcason-
irtg which goes to show that the history of the solar system must Limif^
bo comprised within a period considerably less than a hundred tioa of
million years.' It would perhaps be prcmat-ore to accept this as timft
the final and definite conclusion of science. If, however, it be con-
firmed, we shall only be permitted to accept the doctrine that tidal
friction has effected considerable modification in the configuration
of the moon and earth, and must reject the earlier portion of the
history sketched above. (G. H. D.)
Table of Contents.
'Ch*p. 1.— Oxtwe Natcre of Tides.
f I, Definition of tifle.
S 2. Ccucnl descnpiioD of tidal pheoo-
mena.
$ 3. Gciicnl expIuutioD of tUe cause
pf iidrt.
f 4. Historical sketch.
CBaP. II.— TlDE-GEKZaATlNO FOBCE*.
S S. lDvestigat:on of tide-geaeratuig
potenual and forces.
i fi. Form of equiUbriam.
i 7, I>cvcIopment of tide-generating
potential in terms pT bour-aDgle
ani! declination.
i S. Evslu.-\tioQoftide-geijeratin?:rorccs
and lunar deflexion of gravity.
% 9. Corrvct:i?n to equilibrium tlieoiy
for continents.
Chap. IIL— Dynamicai- Toeoey or
Tides.
i 10. Histoncal explanation,
f 11- Equalioijs of motion.
§ 12. AdapTatioQ lo forced oscHlBUoiis.
§ 15. PrefdratK'n for solution.
$ \i. DiurojJ tide.
5 15. Semi-diunud tide with variable
dcpUi.
S 16. Sciiii -diurnal tide with usifonu
depth.
1 17. Tides of Mng period ; Lapocalfi.
argument from friction. *■
S 18. Tides of I'^ng period in an ofican
of nntforni depth.
§ lO. Sl-iUIity of the ocean.
§ -JO. Precession and nutation.
§ 21. Seme pbeoomcoa of tides in
rivers,
Ceap. IV.— IUbmomc Analtbm. ^
§ 22. Methods of appl)'lDg theAy to
prsctice.
§ 23. Development of equilibrium
theoo' of tides in terras of the
elements of the orbits.
5 21. Meteorolopcal tides, over-tides,
and compound tides.
§ 25. On the form of presentation of re-
sults of tidal obser^-ation.
§ 26. Kumerical harracnic analysis for
tides of short period.
S 27. Harmonic analysis for tides of
long period.
Chap. V. — ST-WTHEnc Method.
$ 2S. On the method and notatiun.
§ 29. Scm.i-dmmal tides.
§ 30. Synthesis of solar and of lunar
portions of the semi-diiimal
tide
§31. Synthesis of lunar and solar semi-
diurnal tides.
§ 32. Diurnal tides.
§ 33. Explanation of tidal terms in
common use ; datum levels.
§ 34. On redaction of obGerrations of
high -and low water.
Chap. VI.— Tidal Ikstrctitents ksd
Tidal Prediction.
§ 35. General remarks.
§ 36. The tide gauge.
§ 37. The harmonic analyser.
5 3S. Tne tide-predicting instrument
§39. Numerical harmonic analysis and
prediction.
Chap. VII. — Progress of the Tide
Wave over toe Sea and the
Tides or the Bnirtsn Seaa.
§40. McaniDg^of coUdallines.
§ i\. Cotidal lines of the world.
§ 42. Cotidal lines of the British seas.'
CaAp. VIII.— Tidal DEFoniUTiosr
OP THE SOUO EARTa
§43. Elastic tides.
§44. Rigidity of the earth.
§ 45. Viscous and ela^t:co - viscou
tides.
Cdap. IX.— Tidal FRicnoii.
§ 46. General explanation.
§47. BxactinvestipattnnofthesecnlAr
effects of tidal friction.
§ 4S. Amount of tid.il retardation of
earth's rotation.
§49. Effects of tidal friction nn th«
elements of the moon's orbit
and on the earth's rotation.
Cbap. X.— Cosmocovtc Specilations
founded on Tidal Friction.
§50. History of the earth and mooa. \
§ 51. The other planct.-ir>-sub-system!i.
§ 52. Influence of tiUal friction on th«
cvolutioa of tUc solar system.
TIDOR, or TiDOKE, an island (0* 39' X. lat. and 127'
23' E. long.) of the East Indian Archipelago, off the west
coast of JiLOLO (?.r.) and south of Ternate, is nearly cir-
cular in form, and has an area of about 58 square miles,
A volcano (5900 feet), now quiescent, rises in the centre
and occupies nearly the whole of the island ; its sides are
densely covered with forests. The principal productions
are sago, rice, cocoa-nuts, and bananas. The capital, Tidor,
on the east coast, is a walled town and the seat of a sultan
tributary' to the Dutch. The population is estimated at
7500. Tidor, which is included in the residency of Ter-
nate, is administered by a "controleur."
TIECK, LcDw^G (1773-1853), the most conspicuous
figure of the German romantic school of literature, was
bom at Berlin on 31st May 1773. His father, a rope-
maker, was drj', sarcastic,- and matter-of-fact ; his mother,
gentle and pious, -with a leaning to mysticism. Tieck par-
took of both characteristics: half his work and half his
genius seem a sceptical commentary on the other half.
He emancipated himself from the prosaic influence of his
father's house by a passionate study of Shakespeare.
After a brilliant career at school he repaired in 1792 to
the university at Halle, and, returning to Berlin in 1794,
devoted himself to authorship, in which he had already
made experiments. As is so commonly the case with young
writers of genius, his first tales {Abdallah^ William LovtU)
partook too largely of the melodramatic, and have little
permanent value. But the romantic school of Germany,
a movement comparable to the Lake school of England,
was already in the air, and Tieck was deeply sensitive to
its influence. He was strongly fascinated by two of its
aspects in particular — the reaction in favour of German
mediaeval art and the revived interest in fairy tales and
folk-lore in general. Inspired by his friend Wackenroder,
a youth of pious ardour and most pious simplicity, he
wrote his unfortunately unfinished romance SUmbald's
Travels^ a very gospel for the artist, at once the comple-
ment and the antitype of Wilhelm Meister, His studies in
popular lifercture resulted in the entertaining adaptation
of Blue Beard entitled Peter Ltljrecld and several kindred
works. Fair Edcheri^ his masterpiece, and the master-
piece of all romantic fiction, came to him, he said, by
inspiration. He may well be believed : no artifice could
have created the pervading sensation of dreamy solitude
or the intense thrill of the catastrophe. The happy idea
of dramatizing popular legend led to the production of a
greatly improved Bliie Beard, and subsequently of Puss
in Boots, a satire on Kotzebue and ISand, such an alliance
of broad humour and dainty irony as we might expect to
find in the lost Middle Comedy of Athens.
'^ It might almost have been better if Tieck had con-
tinued to walk in his own way. His was a susceptible
nature, too sensitive for perfect independence. In 1798
"he made the acquaintance of the Schlegels, and was drawn
into their circle. Novalis, undoubtedly the greatest genius
of the romantic school, was for a time a compensation to
him for the death of "Wackenroder, whose essays on art he
edited ■n'ith additions of his ovm. But Xovalis himself
soon died, and the influence of the Schlegel circle, with it^
bickerings and its *' chopping and changing of ribs," was
not wholly salutary either in a moral or a literary point
of view. August Schlegol inspired Tieck with a passion
for the Spanish drama. He also spent much time on a
translation of ^Dqti Quixote^ certainly a masterpiece, and
rendered Ben Jonson's Silent WomaJiy having previously
adapted Yolpone. One important production of his o^ti
nevertheless belongs to this period, the romantic drama
of Genoveva^ enthusiastically admired by so clear-headed
and impartial a judge as Bishop Thirlwall. He also pro-
duced his delightful miniature drama of Little Pcd Pidiyi^
Hood, and was working with great spirit on The Emperor
Od-avian wh6n ' he ^-^laQ suddenly" attacked by rheumatic
gout, which tormented him more or less for the remainder
of his life. Between pain and unpleasant literary disputes
his activity was long greatly impeded. The narrowness
of his means also troubled him. He had married the
^ Thomson and Tail's Nat. Phil, App. E ;
1887 ; Wolf, Thames Cosmogoniques^ 1886.
ScUure» 27tb January
382
T I E C K
danghter of Pastor Alberti, and, altloagh he was an ami-
able man and nothing is alleged against his wife, his
household does not seem to have been entirely comfort-
able. He lived alternately in Jena, Berlin, and Dresden,
Where he became very intimate with Steffens, and wrote
his powerful but dismal tale, The Runenberg. The Emperor
Octavian was completed in 1801, with less success than
had been hoped. In the following year Tieck repaired to
Italy, nominally to visit the baths of Pisa ; but he made
this medical injunction the plea for a long stay in the
country. The effect of Italian scenery, plastic art, and
new impressions in general was to wean him from much
of the mysticism in which he had hitherto indulged, and
to direct him to the criticism of life. The transition to
his new manner is indicated by the additions to his former
tales and dramas, which, after several years spent in wan-
dering and in sickness, he published in 1812. The Elves,
The Philtre, and The Goblet are tales, distinguished, the
last two more especially, by brilliant colouring and elabo-
rate art. Fortunatiis, a drama in two parts, added in
1816, wants the spirit of its predecessors, but is pervaded
by a quiet sarcastic humour exceedingly enjoyable. Plays
and stories were set in a framework of sesthetio conversa-
tion, and the entire collection was entitled Phantasus. By
this publication Tieck settled accounts with the romantic
school, and could no more be regarded as its leader.
Tieck's power of original composition failed him for
some years. He devoted himself especially to antiquarian
and dramatic studies. In pursuance of the latter he visited
England, saw Kerable and Kean on the stage, and renewed
acquaintance -n-ith Coleridge, whom he had known in Italy.
The friendship of Solger was highly important lQ_ him, and
helped him to the clear definite principles of composition
and criticism in which he had previously been deficient.
The period of reflexion gradually worked itself into a-
period of productiveness, beginning with his charming
novelette of The Pictures, translated by Thirlwall. It was
followed by a series of sinillar works extending over nearly
twenty years, very unequal in value, but in their best
examples belonging to a very- high class of art. Their great
peculiarity is the blending of narrative with disquisition
and comment, so thoughtful and ingenious that, interest-
ing as the action commonly is, the interruption is not
resented. They have usually a strongly marked ironical
element, as though the vrriter were only half in earnest, a
self-criticism of which a great creative genius would have
been incapable, but which bestows unusual piquancy on
productions of the second order. The Pictures, already
mentioned, is a fine instance of the masterly conduct of a
Btorj', and contains a very original figure, the shrewd,
sottish, graceless old painter Eulenbock, who, ^\-ith talent
enough to have made a name and a fortune, gains a pre-
carious livelihood by forging old masters. The Betrothal,
also translated by Thirlwall, is a severe satire on hypo-
:ritical pietism. Among the best of the other novelettes
in this style may be mentioned The Travellers, one of
the most perfect specimens of the author's irony ; Luck
brings Brains, a fine study of the power of a weak charac-
ter to rise to its opportunities when elevated by a sense of
responsibility ; and The Superfluities of Life, an anecdote
delightfully told. The Old Book and The Scarecrow, two
of the most fantastically imaginative, resolve themselves
into literary satire. The motive of the latter was bor-
rowed by Hawthorne in his Mother Righy's Pipe. Of
fictions with an historical basis, the most popular are those
derived from the lives of poets — A Poet's Life, of which
Shakespeare is the hero, and A Poet's Drdlh, relating the
sad history of Camocns. The Revolt in the Cevennes is an
historical romance of considerable compass ; but Tieck's
masterpiece in this department is his Witches' Sabbath, a,
tale almost nnpaialleled in liter&toie for its delineation
of heart-breaking, hopeless misery. The Young Carpertter
(1836, Ijut commenced mach earlier) can hardly be as-
signed to any of these classes. It has a strong affinity
to Wilhdm Meister, and may be compared with Stembald,
both for its resemblance and its contrast. Finally, in
Vittoria Accorambona (1840) Tieck takes yet another new
departure, indicating affinities with the modem French
school of fiction. The novel has been translated into
English, but is probably best known to English readers by
Mrs Carlyle's half-earnest half-mocking admiration of the
hero Bracciano, a Blue Beard on the highest principles,
and her wish that she could have lived two hundred years
before, " to have been — his mistress, not his wife."
These novels were aU written at Dresden, where Tieck
had settled in 1819. He enjoyed especial favour at court,
took an active part in the direction of the royal theatre,
and gained a new description of celebrity by his semi-
public readings from dramatic poets in the court circle.
According to the almost unanimous testimony of his hearers,
he was the finest dramatic reader of his age. His daughter
Dorothea, who united her father's literary talent to her
grandmother's mystic piety, was of great assistance to hiili,
especially m the translation of Shakespeare which passes
under his ULme. Schlegel had translated seventeen plays.
Tieck had undertaken to translate the remainder, and it
has been generally supposed that he kept his word. In fact
the translation was almost entirely executed by Dorothea
Tieck and Count Wolf Baudissin, Tieck contributing
hardly anything but his advice and his name. The truth
slips out quite innocently in the pages of his biographer
Kopke, and is fuUy told by Gustav Freytag (/?» Neuea
Reich, January 1880). During his residence at Dresden
he collected his critical writings, produced his excellent
■+ranslation of the English dramatists anterior to Shakes-
peare, and edited the works of Novahs, Kleist, Lenz, and
other contemporaries. In 1842 he accepted the invitation
of Frederick William TV. to settle in Berlin, where he had
already been to conduct the representation of the Antigone
with Mendelssohn's music. He found himself but little
in his element in the city of his birth, and the dramatic
representations directed by him, including revivals of some
of his own plays, were rarely successful. In 1851 his
health failed entirely, and he withdrew altogether from
the worid. He died on 28th April 1853.
Though not a writer of the highest rank, Tieck is nevertheless a
most original genius, very unjustly neglected by his conntrymen.
The best of his compositions in the taste of the romantic school are
absolute masterpieces ; and his later productions, if imperfect,
occupy a unique position in literature. He may be compared to
AVieland, whom he decidedly surpasses, and to Ariosto, whom he
would have more than rivalled if he had been capable of a great
sustain'ed effort. His susceptibility and self-distrust. checked hi3
genius, but at the same time gave it that peculiar ironic flavour
which constitutes its special distinction. He is like an exquisite
side dish, not sufficiently substantial for a full meal. The attempts
to extract a moral significance from the stories in Phantasus seem
entirely thrown away ; the purpose of his later writings, when
there is any, is always definite. Perhaps the soundest criticism
upon him, at bottjjm, is Heine's in his Romantic School, though
written at a time when it was his cue to show the works of that
school as little quarter as possible. Carlyle's criticism is excellent,!
but only refers to the Phanlasiis.
The principal contribution to Tieck's biography is the delightful
book of Rudolf Kopke (Leipsic, 1855), chiefly drawn from his oral
communications and containing his opinions on a number of subjects,'
Particulars of his residence at Dresden, more especially of his con-
nexion with the theatre, are given in the memoirs of Friesen
(Weimar, 1871). Tales from Phantasus have been translated in'
Carlyle's Specimens of German Romance, and are reprinted in his
miscellanies. A greatly inferior version, in some places nnscmpu-'
lously altered from Carlyle, was published in 1 845 with au elaborate
preface signed by J. A. F. , who does not, however, appear to have
been the translator. Several of Tieck's other works have been
translated into English, but the only remarkable rendering ii^
Bishop Thirlwall's of The Pictures and Tl\e BdrotluU. ^X com-^
T 1 E — T I E
383
^ete cbroTJOlogical list of las wruiDgs 13 afpuaded to Kbpke's
work (R. G.)
TIEDEMANX, Friedrich (I7S1-1S61), German anato-
mist and physiologist, the son of a philosopJier and
psychologist of considerable repute, was born at Cassel on
2od August 17S1 He graduated in medicine at Marburg
in lt>04, but soon abandoned practice owing to disappointr
ment at his failure to check his father's last illness. Re-
pelled on the one liand by the brilliant but unsubstantial
discourses of Schelling on the "NaturphilosopLie," and
attracted on the other hand by the practical skill and in-
telligence of the surgical anatomist ScJnmiering, he returned
to the study tf natural science. He betook himself to
Paris, and became an ardent follower of Cuvier. On his
return to Germany he maintained the claims of patient
and sober anatomical research against the prevalent specur'
lations of the*chool ofOken (see Okilv and Morphology),
whose fdremost antagonist he was long reckoned. His
manifold labours in the field of Cuvicrian anatomy cannot
be recorded bene ; but his remarkable studies of the de-
velopment of the human brain, as correlated with his
father's studies on the development of intelligence, may
be mentioned. He spent most of his life (from 1S16) as
professor of anatomy and physiology at Heidelberg, and
died at Munich on 22d January 1S61.
T'lEN'TSrX is the largest commercial city in Chih-li,
the metropolitan province of China. It is situated in
39° 7'.N. lat. and 117° 11' E. long., at the junction of the
Peiho" ind the Wan-ho, which is connected by the Grand
Canal with the Yaiig-tsze-kiang. It is a prefectural city,
and the residence of the viceroy of the province during a
great portion of the year. The town is built on a vast
alluvial plain, which e.^ctenda from the mountains beyond
Peking to the sea, and through which the Peiho runs
a circuitous course, making the distance by water from
T'ientsin to the coast about 70 miles, as against 35 miles
by read. The soil of the svirrounding country being
strongly impregnated with soda and nitre is not fertile,
but produces sorghum and other coarse grains. The city
walls are well built, though not always kept in good order,
and measure about three quarters of a mile each way. As
in all C'ninese cities, the more wealthy inhabitants live in
the suburbs, but even their houses have a mean appear-
ance, being built mainly of mud or dried bricks. The
streets are for the most part unpaved, and in wet weather
are little better than quagmires. Some improvements
have, however, been made in this respect of late. The
city has always been a great commercial depot. In 1885
the foreign imports amounted to £3,226,972 and the ex-
ports to £980,852, and 375 foreign vessels of 279,829
tons visited the port, tea to the value of about £904,496
being landed for carriage overland, via Kalgan and Kiachta,
to Siberia, During the winter the river is frozen, so that
communication has to be carried on overland toChin-kiang
on the Yang-tsze-kiang, to which point also a line of tele-
graph (now extended to Peking) was opened in 1881. The
principal article.3 of import are shirtings, drills, T-cloths,
jeans and twnlls, opium, woollens, steel, lead, needles,
Japanese sea-weed, and sugar; and of export, skins, beans
and pease, straw braid, coal, dates, wool, tobacco, and
rhubarb. The coal exported is brought from the Kaiping
colliery to the ea.'st of T'ientsin; its output in 1885 was
181,039 tons, 54,976 tons more than in 1884. An ex-
perimental railway neatly two miles long has lately been
constructed at T'ientsin.
In 1853 Ticnt^n wa.'! be.«icgfd by an amiy of Taiping rebels,
wKich had b«rn detached from the main force at Nanking for the
capture of Peking. The defences of T'ientsin, however, saved tbo
capital, and the rebels were forced to retreat Five years later Lord
Elgin, accompanied by the representative of France, stearocd up the
CeUio. after naving forud the barriers at Taku, and took pe&r^abla
possession of tlic town. Here the treaty of 185'^ wf»s signad. Two
yeai-s later, in consequence of Ihft trcicherniis attack m.jde on the
Knglisli plenipotentiary the prerrding year at Taku. the city anil
sulnvrbs were occupicil by an nlliod- English and Frcucli force, and
were held for two years. The city \v,as constituted a'u open j>oit.
On the establishnicut of Roman' Catliolir orphanages sonic yeai3
later the pretensions ttf the pri<'5t,«i so irritated the people tliat on
the occurrence of an epidemic in tlie schools tliey attacked the
French and Russian cstablisliineuts and murdered twenty of the
foreign inmates, besides numbers of their native followers. The
Chinese Coverumcnt at once suppressed tl>e riot, and sent a repre-
scntativc to Europe to apologiTe for the outbreak.
TLERNEt, George (1761- 1830), an English Whig
politician, was boru at Gibrallnr on 20t!i March 1761
being the son of a wealthy inenhant resident in Spain,
He was sent to Peterhouse, Cambridge, where he took the
degree of LL.D. in 1784, and w.is cilled to the bar ; but,
having inherited an ample fortune, he ai)andoned law and
plunged into politics. He contested Colchester in 1788^
when Ijoth candidates received the same number of votes,
but Tiemey was declared elected. He was, however, de-
feated in 1790. He sat for Southwark from 179G to 1806,
and then represented in turn Athlone (1806-7), Baridon
(1807-12), Appleby (1812-18), and Knaresborough (I8I81
30). 'U'lien Fox seceded from the House of Commons,
Tierney became a prominent, if not the leading, opponent
of Pitt's _poIicy. It was perhaps for this reason that he
was disliked by Fox. In 1797 — such was the height of
political passion at thi" epoch — Wilberforce noted in his
diar5' that Tierney's conduct was "truly Jacobinical"; and
in May 1798 Pitt accused him of want of patriotism. As
the words were not withdrawn, a duel ensued at Putney
Heath on Sunday, 27th May 1793; but neither combatant
was injured. In 1803 Tierney, partly through gratitude
for the peace which had been ratified with France and
partly because Pitt was" out of office, joined the ministry
of Addington as treasurer of the navy, and was created, a
pri\7 councillor ; but this ill-advised step alienated many
of his supporters among the middle classes, and offended
most of the influential Whigs. On the death of Fox he
joined (1806) the Grenville ministry as president of the
board of control, with a seat in the cabinet, and thus
brought himself once more into line with the' 'Whigs.
After the death of Ponsonby in 1817 Tierney became the
recognized leader of the opposition in the House of Com-
mons. In the neutral ministry ^of Canning, the place of
master of the mint was held by hiui, and when Lord
Goderich succeeded to the lead Tierney was admitted tc
the cabinet ; but he was already sufl'ering from ill-health
and took little part in its deliberations. He died suddenly
at Savile Row, London, on 2oth January 1830.
Tierney was a shrewd man of the world, with a natural aptitude
for business. His powers of sarcasm were a cause of terror to his
adversaries, and liis piisencc in debate was much dreaded. His
arguments were felicitous, and, though he never aimed at the high-
est flights of eloquence, his choice of language was the theme of
constant admiration. Lord Lytton, in his poem of St Stcjilicn's,
alludes to *'Tierney'3 airy tread," and praises liis "light and yet
vigorous" attack, in which ho inflicted, "with a placid smile," a
fatal wound on his opponent.
TIERRA DEL FL'EGO, a large archipelago at the
southern extremity of South America, from which it is
separated by Magellan Strait, at the Narrows and other
points scarcely a mile wide. The group lies between
52° 40' and 55° 59' S. lat. and 63° 30' and 74° 35' W. long,
stretching nearly in a line with the Patagonian Andes for
over 400 miles north- west and south-east, between Capes
Pdlar and Horn, and for about 270 miles west and east
from Cape Pillar to Cape Espiritu Santo (Catherine Point)
in the north; southwards it tapers to 120 miles between
Capes Horn and St Diego, the latter being continued east-
wards to Staten Island, which is not usually included i^
the group. Although on ordinary maps this region pre-
sents to the eye a hopelessly confused aggregate of islahds.
384
,T I E R R A DEL F U E G O
cbanncls^andTjord likelnleta, as if it had beeu submerged
sufficiently to convert its deep valleys and gorges into
oecjiN,
^^^
^rf
.«?* >
TIERRA OEf FUECO
Fuegiui Archipelago /'
"^ Map of Tierra del Fuego.
iuarine passages, bays, and bights, it is nevertheless clearly
Uisposed in three main sections, wliich may be conveniently
iiamed East, West, and South Fuegia.
I East Fuegia consists of the single island of King
Charles's South Land (eastern Tierra del Fuego), which is
|Very much larger than all the rest of the group together,
being considerably over 200 miles long from north to
Isouth. . It obviously forms a southern extension of the
'Patagonian pampas, which it greatly resembles in its phy-
sical constitution, climate, flora, and fauna. The low-
lying, flat or slightly rolling plains are covered with a rich
growth of tall herbage, which is frcciuented by the rhea,
guanaco, and other animals common to the adjoining main-
land, and also peopled by a branch of the same Tehuelche
(Patagonian) family. In the south a long peninsuja pro-
jects westwards to the Pacific. This western limb as-
sumes a iiiountainous character. Mount Darwin (6800 feet)
being situateil about midway on its south side and Mount
Sarinientii (G'.)O(l, or perhaps 7000 feet), the culminating
point of the archipelago, much nearer the Pacific. Although
generally supposed to bo volcanic, this peak presents such
extremely |irucipitous, in fact, almost vertical flanks that
'John Ball considers it iiioro probably "a portion of the
original rock skeleton that formed the axis of the Andean
chain during the long ages that preceded the great vol-
canic outbursts that have covered the framework of the
iwestern side of South America."' This is altogether an
fllpine region with numerous snow-clad summits and gla-
ticrs dcsoending dnwu to the sea (Darwin).
5 Along the soiilli side of East Fuegia flows Beagle
fchannel, about .'55° S. lat., separating it from South
(Fuegia, which comprises the islands of Hoste, Navarin,
Gordon, Londondeiry, Stewart, Wollaston, and numerous
islets, disposed'in triangular form with the base on Beagle
Channel and tlie-apex- at the rocky headland of Cape Horn.
At ils wcstein end Beagle Cliannol takes the name of
Darwin Jsuund, wludi leads to the Pacific at Londonderry
and Stewal-t Islands. North of these lies Brecknock
J'emnsiila, tTjiHWesiurflDiost ij.xtension of East Fuegia, cut-
ling oti' South Fuegia from Clarence Island and Desola-
tion Land, w.hsh with Dawson Island and numerous rocks
and islets constitute West' Fuegia. Desolation Land, so
named by Cook, who- supposed it to form a continuous
mass stretching from the western entrance of Magellan
Strait to Coekburn- Channel, really consists of at least
three, and possibly mora islands, separated from each
other by very narrow channels flowing between the Pacific
and the western branch of Magellan Strait. The name
Desolation has been reserved for the northern member of
the group terminating at Cape Pillar ; the one next to it
* JVetes of a Naluralisi in South Arn^ica, Lcuidou, ISS^i p. 245,.,
has been called Santa Inez , the other or others are still
unnamed. When Ball passed through the strait, he was
shown one of the narrow sounds " which have lately been
ascertained to penetrate entirely through what used to be
considered a single island" {op. ciC, p. 241).
Lying almost in a line with the main Andean axis, both "West
and South Fuegia are essentially highland regions, cunformiDg in
their general charactfiristics to the intervening western extension
of East Fuegia. As compared with the great mass of the latter,
they ar^ everywhere extremely rugged and moiintaraous, having
a mean elevation of not less than 3000 feet, a much raoister climate,
and arboreal instead of grassy vegetation. The isothermals of
32°Fahr. for July (winter) and £0° Fahr. for January (summer), with
a mean annual temperature of 42" Fahr., show that tolerably mild
winters are followed by cool summers, both seasons being accom-
panied by overcast skies, constant and sudden changes from fair to
foul weather ; whilst fogs, mists, rains, snows, and high winds
(prevailing throughout the year) endanger the navigation of the
intricate inland channels, and render the archipelago one of the
dreariest regions on the globe.
A botanical parting lino seems to be constituted by the range of
hills running back of Punta Arenas along the east side of Brunswick
Peninsula (which, although attached by a narrow neck of land to
Patagonia, belongs physically to the insular domain), and termin-
ating at Cape Froward (53° 54' S. lat.), the southernmost point of
the American mainland. West and south of this line the pampas
are replaced by lofty mountains clothed with a dense forest vege-
tation from the water's edge to heights of 1000 and 1200 feet,
above which stretcher a zone of peaty soil with stunted alpine
plants 03 far as the snow line (3000 to 3500 feet). The forest
species are chiefly an evergreen beech {Fagus antardica, S.) and
the winter bark ( H'inleria aromaticn), also evergreen, with tall
smooth stem and glossy leaves like the laurel. Wild celerj-, cress,
cochlcaria, and other anti-scorbutic plants occur on both sides of
Magellan Strait, and the beech nourishes a large yellow musliroom,
which, with the berries of a dwarf shrub, is the only vegetable food
of the natives.
In West and South Fuegia the fauna is restricted mainly to two
species of fox, a bat, rats, mice, the sea otter, the penguin and other
aquatic birds, and various cetaceans in the surrounding waters.
To the three geographical divisions correspond three well-marked
ethnical groups, — the Onas of East, the "^aghans of South, and
the Alacalufs of West Fuegia. The first are estimated to number
2000, the others 3000 each, making a total population of some
8000 for the whole archipelago. The Onas are Patagonians who
have crossed the strait. The Alacalufs are also immigrants from
the mainland, hut probably they came at an earlier date, and from
the western uplands, being apparently a branch of the Auca (Arau-
canian) race of the Patagonian and Chilian Cordilleras. They
differ altogether in speech both from the Onas, with whom they
come scarcely anywhere in contact, and from the Yahgans, who are
the true aborigines of the archipelago. These last are in exclusive
possession of South Fuegia, and also occupy the north side of
Beagle Channel about Mount Darwin and further west. To them
alone missionary enterprise has hitherto been extended, and the
English station of Ushiwaya on Beagle Channel has for some years
been the only centre of civilizing influences in the archipelago.
As Lieutenant Bove of the Italian Antarctic expedition has made
a special study of this branch,' they are much better known than
either of the neighbouring races. If they represent an earlier
Araucanian immigration than that of the Alacalufs, their ex-
tremely low social state, on which all observers are unanimous,!
may be regarded as the result of degradation from a higher con-j
dition during their long sojourn in tlicir present inhospitable en-
vironment. But it seems more probable that they are the direct
descendants of the primitive race by which the archipelago ha3
been occupied from a vastly remote period, as is shown by the very
great number of kitchen-middens recently discovered on the coast.
Although taller than the Negritoes of the eastern hemisphere
(4 feet 10 inches to 5 feet 4 inches), the Vabgans present in some
respects a more debased type, characterized by low brows, prominent
zygomatic arches, large tumid lips, (lat nose, loose wrinkled skin
(" pelle grinzosa c cadente," says Bove), black restless eyes very wide
apart, coarse black unkempt hair, and head and chest dis|)ropor-,
tionately large compared with the extremely slender and outwardly
curved legs, conveying an impression of top-heaviness like that of
the Akkas of equatorial Africa. Their menU) qualities are on the,
same low level, as is indicated by the almost total absence of clothing
under such inclement skies, by the brutal treatment of their women,'
who when old and useless are often eaten, by the lack of human
affections or love of offspring, who in rough weather are thrown
overboard (Dr Fenton), either as a peace ofleiing to the spirits of
the storm or to lighten the canoe, and by many repulsive practices
connectfJ with their food and social habits. The tribal organiza-
^ „• See Guido Cora's, (?o»mos for May 1883.
T I F— T I G
385
tea has not jet been reached, each famUy circle living apart and
combining only in small groups against some common enemy, but
recognizing uo hereditary chief or even any temporary leader. Yet
the missionaries, who have reduced the language to writing {Gospel
of St Lake, London, 18S1), assert that it contains no less than 30,000
words, although the numerals stop at Jirt, already a compound
farm (ai-pash-pa\ and although the' same word expresses both hand
tndJiKger. But they have obviously failed to distinguish between
distinct terms and the endless grammatical intricacies in which
this, like so many other rude forms of speech, is still involved.
Since 1881 the eastern portion of Fuegia (with Staten Island)
has belonged to the Argentine Kepublic and the western to Chili.
The boundary line, which is purely conventional, runs from Cape
Espiritu Santo doe south to Beagle Channel. Neither power has
hitnerto occupied any part of Fuegia, except Punta Arenas (Sandy
Point) on the ratagonian side of ilagellan Strait, where the Chilians
have for some ye&rs maintained a convict and co:iling station.
Fnegi* was discovered by Magellan in 1520, wnen he sailed
through the strait named after him, and called this region the
" Land of Fire," either from now extinct volcanic fiames, or much
more probably from the fires kindled by the natives along parts
<rf hja course. In 1578 Drake first sighted the point whicn in
1616 was named Cape Hoora (Anglicized Horn) by the Dutch navi-
gators Lemaire and Schouten. In 1619 the brothers Nodal first
circnnmavigatfid the archipelago, which was afterwards visited at
intervals by Wood and Narborongh (1670), Gennes and Froger
(isaei, Byron (1764), 'Wallis and Carteret (1767), Cook (1768), and
Weddel! (1822). But no systematic exploration was attempted
until the British Admiralty undertook a thorough survey of the
whole group by King (1826-28) and Fitzroy (1831-36). The latter
expedition {Foyage of the " Beagle ") was accompanied by Charles
Darwin, then a young man. To these admirable surveys is duo
most of the present geographical terminology of the archipelago.
Since then the work of exploration has been continued and nearly
completed by Dumont d'TJrville (1837), Charles Wilkes (1839),
Parker Snow (1855), Bove (1883), and various English, American,
and Roman Catholic missionaries.
BiWvvrapHy. -De Brossea, ffijtoire d« yoriffOiiOTW omc TfTfw ^itftroZe*, Paris,
1756 ; J. Bumey, RvUrryof Voi/aga and Dixxrvfria in tS£ Stnith Sia^ London,
ISOS-IT ; J. Weddell, A Fojoje lowords Ou StmOi P6U and lo Turm dtX F^ugo,
^DdoD, JS25 ; Charles Darwin, JovtmoI cf Restar^lus, he., dvHng Cu Voyigt of
Itle "Btagtt" nund tiie rr&rld, LondoD, 1S45 ; W. Parker Scow, A Tvo Ytartt
Crvise off Titrra dd Fut/go, London, 1S57 ; 0. Margolo, " La Terro de Feu," in
B-M. di la See ic Giogr., No\-ember 1875; J. O. Kohl, Ctsch. d. Entdtckungs-
TfisTK, 4c, mr Ma^dian'a Strasst, Berlin, 1877; "La Terre de Feu et ses
fiabitants," ill JovttuU da MUticns tvangflupies, Angnst 1876 ; D. Lovjsato,
ApFitnti Etnografiei am Aootnni Geologici niZla TVrra dd Fuooo, Turin, 18^ ;
John Ball, iVotes of a yaturalisi in ScitlX Avurica, L-^cdon, 1887 ; R. W.
Coppinger, Cruix of t>u "Atert," London, 4th ed. 1SS5 ; G. Scryl, Anttvpotr!^
Fitim ddlaFtufi'^ Rome, 1887 ; Ramon Ltsta, '■ East Fx:egla,^ In Pji^ro/ir.Vf
MUiciiungrn^ May 1887 ; and thq worka already mentioned. (A. H. E.)
TIFFTN', a city of the United States, in Seneca county
(of ■which it i3 the conntv seat), Ohio, stands upon the
Sandusky river, in 41* 7' N. lat, 83° 1 1' W. long., 42 miles
south-east of Toledo. The city is situated ia the midst of
an agricultural region, for which it serves as a shipping
and supply point, and has three railroads — the Baltimore
and Ohio, the Indiana, Bloomington, and Western, and the
Korth-'Westem Ohio. It is the seat of Heidelberg College,
one of the minor educational institutions of the State.
Tiffin had in 1880 a population of 7879, an increase of
2231 over that in 1870.
TTFLIS, capital of the province of the same name arid
of Russian Caucasia, is picturesquely situated (44° 48' E.
long., 41° 42"N. lat.) at the, foot of high mountains, on
both banks of the river Kiir, some 500 feet above the level
of the Black Sea. . The h6at in summer is excessive, owing
to the confined .position ; but the eurrounding hills (1350
to 2400 fiet) shelter the town effectively from the cold
winds of a generally severe winter. A large square, the
cathedral, one or more handsome streets, gardens, bridges,
many fine or neat buildings — among them the gi^d-ducil
palace, the opera-house, and the mnseum^*-European shops,
the club or circle, hotels, and- public offices ar6 evidence
that Western civilization has not only penetrated but has
long prevailed in this geographically remote town. Of its
54 churches 26 are Armenian, 2 Lutheran, and 1 Catholic.
The (Sipn) cathedral traces back its origin to the 5th cen-
tury ; but in the interval it has suffered much and often.
Other churches date from the 14th aniJ 15th centuries,
the Armenian cathedral of Vank from 1480, and the
Cetholic ebtirch from the 14th century. Tiflis has two
gymnasia and pro-gymnasia for boys and two for girls, and
a number of other schools ; several scientific societies, ol
which the Caucasian branch of the geographical society is
well known ; an astronomical *nd a physical observatory ,
and a public library. The manufactures of the place are
limited to a few cotton and silk factories, tanneries, soap-
works, and brick-works. But the petty trades are largely
developed ; and the artisans of Tifljs (aBout 8000) are re-
nowned as silversmiths, gunsmiths, and sword-makers.
Since 1883 Tiflis has been in railway connexfon with Poti
and Batum on the Black Sea and T\-ith Baku on the Cas-
pian ; but the line from Russia to Vladikavkaz has not
yet crossed the main chain of the Caucasus. The trade
is of great importance, as Tiflis is the chief centre for the
import of raw silk and silken goods, raw cotton, carpets,
and dried fruits from Persia, as well as from trans-C^aucasia,
while a variety of manufactured wares are imported from
Russia, The foreign trade of trans-Caucasia with Asia,
mostly carried on from Tiflis, in 1884 reached the value of
£1,729,800 for exports, and j£857,070 for imports. In
1883 the population numbered 104,024, as against 71,051
in summer 1865 and 60,085 in winter, exclusive of a
garrison of 6800. Ethnologically, the numbers are — Ar-
menians 31,180, Georgians 14,787, and Russians 12,142,
with an admixture of about 1200 Germans, 7150 Persians
(in summer). 1500 Tatars, and some Jews and Greeks.
Many chroniclers and travellers have written about Tiflis. Per-
haps one of the fullest accounts is contained in Brosset's edition of
the Description Oiop-aphique de la Giorgie (St Petersburg, 1812), by
the illegitimate son of Wakhtang VI., king of Earthli, who became
a pensioner of Peter the Great. English travellers since 1849 de-
scribe Tiflis in its main features much in the same terms. Lady
Shell, writing in 1S49, calls it "most thriving, active, and bustling,"
Edward Eastwick (1860), estimating its population at 40,000 and
the height of the mountains overhanging .t at 3000 feet, represents
the plain in which the city is situated to be so barren that "even
the Kur . . . imparts to it but a limited fertility." Mounsey
(1866) speaks in warm terms of its social charms and the great
hospitality of its inhabitants, and notes it as the seat oi" government
for the " Caucasian provinces of Russia, headquarters of an army
of 150,000 men, and the residence of the governor-general." In
the old division of Tiflis three distinct towns were included, — Tifiis
Kal'a (the fort), and Isni ; subsequently Tiflis seems to have become
known as Saijidabad, KaTa as Tifiis, and Isni as Aulabar. Eal'a
and Isni possessed citadels ; that of the former contained the church
of St Nicholas and a royal palace, that of the latter the church
of tha Holy Virgin and the residence of the archimandrite. The
town is nop divided into quarters : — the Russian (the finest of all),
the German, the Armenian, and that in which are congregate
Jews, Mohammedans, and the mass of Orientals. Tiflis can lay
claim to a very considerable antiquity. In 455 the chieftain of
Georgia, Wakhtang, transferred his capital from .Mhtset to the
warm springs of Tpilisi, where he erected several churches and a
fort. In 570 the Persians took the place and made it the residence
of their rulers, but retained it'only for ten years. Tiflis underwent
successive plunderings and devastations at the hands of the Greeks
in 626, of one of the commanders of Omar in 731, of the Eha2ars
in 828, and of the Saracens in 851. The Georgians, however, always
managed to return to it and to keep it in their permanent posses-
sion. In the course of the succeeding centuries Tiflis fell repeatedly
into Persian hands ; and it was plundered by Timur about the end
of the 14th century. Afterwariis the Turks seized it several times,
and towards the end of the 1 7th century the Lesghians made attacks
npon it. In 1795, when the shah-of Persia plundered Tiflis, Russia
sent troops to its protection, and the Russian occupation became
permanent in 1799.
TIGER. Although this name is often applied by settlers
and sportsmen to several of the larger Feltdx, as the
leopard of Africa and the jaguar of America,^ it should
properly be restricted to the well-known striped species
of Asia, Felis ligrU of Linnseus, an animal which is only
rivalled by the lion in size, strength, and ferocify among
the cat-like^ beasts of prey. It is a trUe cat on a large
scale, and possesses all the essential characters of the genui
as defined in the article SlAMMALLi (vol xv. p. 434). It
belongs to the section in which the pupil of the eye con-
tracts under the sfemulus of light into a round spot and
not a vertical slit, and in which the hyoid bone is con.
XXrCL — 49
386
T I G — T I G
nectcd loosely with the skull by a long ligament, instead
of by a continuous chain of bones. In these points it
agrees with the lion and the leopard and differs from the
common cat. Almost everj-thing that is said in the artiele
Lio.v (vol. xiv. pp. 680-681) of the structure of the skele-
ton, teeth, and claws of that animal will apply equally
well to the tiger, the difference between the two lying
mainly in the skin*and its coverings. There are, however,
slight distinctions in the proportionate size of the lower
teeth, the general form of the cranium, and the relative
length of tLe nasal bones and ascending processes of the
maxillaries by which the skull of the lion and tiger can
be easJy discriminated by the practised observer.
Although examples of both species present considerable
variations in size, and reliance cannot always be placed
UDon alleged dimensions, especially when taken from skins
Tiger [Fdus tt^/ns, Linn.).
stripped from the body, it seems well ascertained that the
length of the largest-sized Bengal tiger may exceed that of
any lion. Larger specimens are certainly recorded, but 10
feet frcira the tip of the nose to the end of the tail is, ac-
cording to Jerdon, an unusual length for a large male tiger.
The female is somewhat smaller and has a lighter and nar-
rower heud. Tbe tiger has no mane, but in old males the
hair of the checks is rather long and spreading. The
ground colour of the upper and outer parts of the head,
body, Lmbs, and tail is a bri^lit rufous fawn, and iLese
parts are beautifully marked uiih transverse stripes of a
dark, almost black colour. The markings vary much iu
different Individuals, and even on the two sides of the
same individual. The under (arts of the body, the inside
of the linilis, the cheeks, and a large spot over eacb eye
are ne;irly white. The tigers which inhabit bolter regions,
as Bengal and the south Asiatic l.-.lauds, have shorter and
smoother hair, and are more rn lily euloiired and distinctly
striped than those of northern China and Siberia, in which
the fur is longer, softer, and lighter coloured.
The tiger is exclusively A.siatic, but has a very wide
range in that continent, having been Imind in almost all
suitable localities south of a line drawn from the river
Euphrates, passing along the southern shores of the Caspian
and S(^ of Aral by Lake Baikal to the Sea of Okhotsk
Its most northern range is the territory of the Amur,
its most southern the islands of Sumatra, Java, and Bali.
Westward it reaches to Turkish Georgia and eastward to
the island of Saghalin. It is absent, however, from the
great elevated plateau of Central Asia, nor does it inhabit
Ceylon, Borneo, or the other islands of the Indo-Malayan
Archipelago, except those named.
The principal food of the tiger in India is cattle, d«er,
wild hog, and pea- fowl, and occasionally human beings.
The regular " man-eater " is generally an old tiger whos&
vigour is passed, and whose teeth are worn and defective ;
it takes up its abode in the neighbourhood of a village,
the population of which it finds an easier prey than the
larger or wilder animals named abo^-e. Though chiefly
affecting grassy plains or swamps, it is abo found in forests,
and seems to be fond of haunting the neighbourhood of
old ruins. As a rule, tigers do not climb trees , but when
pressed by fear, as dunng an inundation, they have been
known to do so. They take to the water readily and are
good swimmers. The tigers of the Sundarbans (Ganges
delta) continually swim from one island to the other to
change their hunting-grounds for deer. The following
extract from Sir J. Fayrer's Royal Tiger of Bengal {\ 87 o)
may complete this notice of the tiger's habits.
"Tbe tigress gives birtli to from two to 6ve, even sU cubs , but
three is a frequent numl>»:r She is i most affectionate and attached
nioiber, and generally gu irds and 'rain3 her young with the most
watchful solicitude. They remain -nth ber until nearly ful|.gro\ni,
or atwat the second year, when they are able to kill for theraselve*
and bcgm life on their own account. \\'liiUt they remain with
her she is peculiarly vicious and aggressive, defending tliem with
the greatest courage and energy, and when robbed of tli-.m is terrible
in her rage ; but she ha3 been known to desert them when pressed,
and even to eat them when starved. As soon as they begin to
require other food than her milk, she kills for them, teaching them
to do so for themselves by practising on smaU animals, such as
deer and young calves or pigs. At these times she is wanton and
extravagant in her cruelly, killing apparently for the gratification
ot luT ferocious and bloodihirsty nature, and perhaps to excite and
instruct the young ones, and it is not untd they are thoroughly
disable ol' killing tJK-ir own food that she separates from them.
Tile yiiung tig-rs are far mote destructive than the old. They will
kill ihree or lour cows at a lime, whilst the older and more ez-
p*'rien..ed rarely kill more than one, and this at intervals of from
three or four days to a week. For this [lurposo the tiger will leav©
Its retreat lu (he dense jungle, proceed to the neighbourhood of a
village or gowrie, w livre tattle feed, aud during the night will steal
on and strike down a bullock, drag it into a secluded place, and
tlii'n remain near the " murrie." or "kill," for several days, until
It has eaten it, when it will proceed in search of a further supply,
and, having found good hunting ground in the vicinity of a village
or powrie, continue its ravages, destroying one or t\ro cows or
bululoes a week. It is very fond of the ordinary domestic cattle,
which iu tbe plains of India are generally weak, half-starved,
under-sized creatures. One of tiese is easily struck down and.
carried or dragged off. The smaller buffaloes are also easily dis-
posed of; but tue buffalo bulls, and especially the wild ones, ari
formidable antagonists, and have.. often been known-^ beat thf
tiger olf, aud even to wound him Striously." (W. H. F. )
TIGER CAT. SeeOcELO'Er
TIG RAN ES, or Dikban, a name borne by several kings
of ancient Armenia. .According to the legend of the Ar-
menians, the first of these kings was the Tigranes who in
Xeuophon's romance appears as the schoolfellow of Cyrus,
anil to him they a-scribe the foundation of Tigranocerta
(Dikran9.gerd) on the Tigris. But in reality, as cla-ssical
«iitej-f rtjate, this city was built by the first historical
Tigranes oC Armenia, variously known as Tigranes II.
ami TiCR.AJJEs J., for whose history see p^sn, vol. xviii.
]■. 595 SI). His son Tigranes is known by his rebellion
against his father (Pei!>i.x, vt supra). Tigranes III
(11 ), grandson of Tigranes II. (1), had ashort reign, which
he owed to a revolution at Lome and the favour of Augustus
He came to the throne in 2U B.C., having previously been
an exile at Rome. Tigranes IV (III ) was seated on the
throne by the rartkuns (Persu, p. COO). For Tigranes
V. (c CO A i> ), a great grandson on his mother's side of
Uerod the Great, .see I'Eioi %, vol xviii. p. 002.
TIGRIS,' the shorter id the two large rivers rising in
' Tlie Tigris IS the lli.l.lek.l ol llie Bible, llic Dikliilor l.liklat »l
the cuneiform tuouiinRiils. The ol-I PersLin form Tigni ("swift as au
arrow"), whence Ticiis, seems to be connected etyoiologically with.
4
T r L-— T I E
387,
the hignlands of Armenia and Kurdistan, and (when turned
southward) running each its own independent course to
the Persian Gul^. Like the Euphrates, the Tigris rises
from two principal sources, of which the western and more
distant — in 3S' 10' N. lat. and about 39° 20' E. long — is
a little south of Late Giuljek, in a peninsula formed by
the Euphrates, and some 2 or 3 miles only from the channel
of that river. The names and sources of the different
streams forming the Western Tigris — or that part of the
upper river which runs, roughly speaking, from Diarbekr
to the junction with the Eastern Tigris, about 50 miles
north-north-west from Jezlra Ibn Omar — are given by
Consul Taylor as the Arganeh M'adan and the Dibeneh Su,
nniting at Ammaneh castle ; the Ambar Su, rising at
Hevni ; the Batman Su, formed by the Kulp, the Kaushan,
and the Sarum, rising north and north-west of Nerjiki ;
and the Khuzu or Huzu and the Arzen-Redhwan or Yezid
Khaneh Su. Of the Eastern Tigris the chief tributaries
are the Bohtan Su and its feeder the Bitlis (which receives
the Keyzer or Shirwan), the Mox, the Shattak, the Cham-
karij'and the Sarhal Su. Of these the most northerly
points may be found on the Kulp' or Dibeneh Su about 38°
40' N. lat. and the most easterly on the Shattak in 42° 50'
E. long.
After the junction of the eastern and western branches
(see the accompanying map) the river pursues a winding
Map showing the tributaries of the Tigris.
course, generally south-east, for about 800 miles, via Mosul
and Baghdad, to the point of union with the Euphrates at
Kuma, whence it becomes known as the Shattu 'l-Arab.
and falls into the sea some 70 miles farther down. Between
Mosul and Baghdad the Tigris receives from its left the
Great and the Little Zab and other tributaries from the
Kurdish Mountains. Below the confluence of the latter
it is joined by the Diydla, also from the left, while on the
right canals and watercourses connect it more- or less
directly with the Euphrates, which in the vicinity of Bagh-
dad it approaches to within 30 or 35 miles. The Tigris
is navigable for light freight-bearing steamers up to Bagh-
dad, and for vessels of lighter draught to 20 miles below
Mosul, but thence to Diarbekr only for rafts. " But owing
to the rapidity of the current the traffic is all down stream,
carried on mainly by a primitive style of craft, which is
broken up at Baghdad and transported by camels back to
Mosul. The jotimey between these points occupies three
or four days during the floods and from' twelve to fourteen
at other times."
TILBURO, or Tilbobg, a town of Holland, tn the
Uieae name*. The sxxlera Arsblc name is D^jU (AmSlua'DeUsth,
province of North Brabant,' 13 miles to the east-south east
of Breda, contains numerous 'and ertensive woollen- fac-
tories, employing from 5000 to 6000 persons, and also
some calico-printing establishments. It has the usual
public buildings, including four Roman Catholic churches,'
a Reformed church, and a synagogue, but none of architec-
tural or historical interest. The population in 1879 was
28,390 and in 1887 32,016.
TILDEN, Samttel Joxes (1814-188G), .American states-
man, was bom at New Lebanon, New York, on the 9 th of
February 1814. He studied at Yale and at the university
of New York, but ill-health prevented him from finishing
his course. He studied law and rose rapidly to the first
rank at the New Y'ork bar. From boyhood he had had a
fondness for politics, but had sacrificed it to the practice
of law. After 1860 he drifted into New York State
politics, and became chairman of the Democratic State
Committee in 1866. The Tweed "ring" in New York
city dreaded him, and in 1869 attempted to remove him
from his chairmanship. Tilden then became the soul of
the legal attacks upon the "ring," and worked for the
removal of the corrupt judges who were their tools ; and
in the "ring trials" he accomplished the mathematical feat
of ascertaining and demonstrating from bank-books the
principle on which the spoils had been divided. In 1874
he was elected governor of the State by the Democrats.
For years another " ring " had been making money out of
the State canals. This, too, Tilden succeeded in breaking
up. In 1876 the National Demofi^atic Convention nomi-
nated him for the presidency, the Republicans nominating
Governor Hayes of Ohio. The result was the disputed
election of 1876-77, when each party secured about the
same number of electors outside of the three Southern
states of Florida, South Carolina, and Louisiana. The
Democrats had a majority in these States ; but the return-
ing boards, by rejecting votes which they believed had been
obtained by fraud or intimidation, gave their States to the
Republicans. Two sets of certificates were therefore sent
to Washington, and as no provision had been made in the
United States constitution for a dispute of this kind
there was no power authorized to decide between the two
parties. In this emergency Tilden consented to the ap-
pointment of an extra-constitutional body, an "electoral
commission," to decide disputed cases, the decisions of
which were to hold good unless reversed by concurrent vote
of the two houses. The commission decided all the cases
in favour of the Republican candidates, and Tilden was de-
feated. He continued in retirement until his death, which
took place at Greystone, New Y'ork, on 4th August 1886J
TILES (Saxon tiffel, connected with Lat. tegula) are used
for a great variety of architectural purposes, such as cover-1
ing roofs, floors, and walls, and are made of many different
materials.
1. Roofing TiUe.^ — In the most important temples of
ancient Greece the roof was covered with tiles of white
marble, fitted together in the most perfect way so as
to exclude the rain. In most cases, as in the Athenian
Parthenon and the existing temple at .(Egina, the tiles
were large slabs of marble, with a flange along each side,
over which joint-tiles (apfio!) were afccuratcly fitted (see A
in fig. 1). In the temple of Apollo at Bassa;, though the
main building was of limestone, the roof was covered with
very beautiful tiles of Parian marble, which are specially
mentioned by Pausanias as being one of the chief beauties
of the temple. Some of these were found by Jlr Cockerell
during his excavations at Bassse early in the 1 9th century.-
In design they resemble the other examples mentioned
' In Egypt and Assyria temples and palaces were mostly roofed with
stone, while inferior buildings had flat roofs covered with beaten clay.
* Bee Cockerell. TenjiUt qf JBfina and Bout, Londoo, 18$0.
388.
TILES
above^but'are peculiar in having the joint-piece worked
out of the same slab of marble as the adjacent tiles (see B
in fig. 1), at a great additional cost of both material and
labour, ^in order to secure a more perfect fit. Fig. 2
A B
Fio. 1. — Esamples of roofing tiJes from Greek temples. A, B, marble
tiles from .^gina and Bassa, showing two methods of working the
joint.tile.5. C, C, clay tiles from Olympia. D, sketch showing
method of jointing at the lower edge. E, longitudinal section of a
clay joiut-tile (dp/xii). F, joiat-tile with peg to fix it.
'shows the v/ay in which they were set on the roof. Groat
splendour of eflfect must have been gained by continuing
the gleaming white of the columns and walls on to the
roof. All along the eaves each end of a row of joint-tiles
was usually covered by an nntefixa, an oval -topped piece
Fio." 2. — Perspective sketch showing the arraugement of tiles" B in
fig. 1, at Bass,-E. B, B, Dowels to fix.the .ioint-tile3.^_C. tilting
piece, a, a, fiat surface of tjles.
of marble with honeysuckle or some ottier conventional
pattern carved in relief.' ; In most cases the Greeks used
terra-cotta roofing tiles, shaped like the marble ones of
fig. 1, A. Others were without a flange, being formed with
a concave upper surface to prevent the rain getting under
the joint-tiles. - The lower edge of the tile, whether of
marble or of clay, was usually half- lapped and fitted into
a corresponding rebate in the upper edge of the next tile
(see D in fig. 1). • The dp/ioi also were half-lapped at the
joints (see E in fig. 1). All these were usually fastened
with bronze nails to the rafters of the roof. In some
cases each joint-tile had a projecting peg to fix it to the
next ap/io'5, as shown at F. ' In the temples of imperial
Rome marUle roofing tiles were used like those shown at
fig. 1. These were copied from the Greeks along with
most other architectural features. ■• For domestic and
other' less important work clay tiles ' (teg'ulx) were em-
ployed, of the form shown in A, fig. 3. These are narrower
' Marble tiles are said to have been first made by Byzes of Naios
about §^ B.p.-; see Pausaiuas, -v. 10; 2.
at the lower edge, so as to fit in to the upper edge oi the
next tile, and the joints were covered with a semicirculai
joint-tile (imbrex). Rows of terra-cotta antefixae were set
along the eaves of the roof, and were often moulded with
very beautiful reliefs. In localities which supplied lami-
nated stone, such as Gloucestershire and Hampshire ui
Fig. 3. — A, section and elevation of the clay tiles commonly used in
ancient Rome. B, Roman stone tiles, each fixed with one iron
nail at the top angle. C, pan-ti'es I'sed in mediffival and modem
times.
Britain, the Romans olton rooted their buildings with
stone tiles, fastened ^\^th iron nails. Fig. 3, B, shows an
example from a Roman villa at Fifehead Neville in Dorset,
England. Each slab had a lap of about 2 inches over the
row of tiles below it ; many large iron nails were found
with these stone tiles. In a few cases, in the most magni-
ficent temples of ancient Rome, as in those of Capitoline
Jupiter and of Venus and Rome, and also the small circular
temple of Vesta,^ tiles of thickly gilded bronze were used,
which must have had the most magnificent effect. - Those
of the last-named building are specially mentioned by Pliny
(H.N., xxxiv. 7) as having been made of SjTacusan bronze,"
— an alloy in great repute among the Romans. The bronze
tiles from the temples of Jupiter Capitolinus and of Venus
and Rome were taken by Pope Honorius I. (625-638) to
cover the basilica of St Peter, whence they were stolen by
the Saracens during their invasion of the Leonine city in
846.-'
In mcdixval times lead or copper ^ in large sheets was
used for the chief churches and palaces of Europe; but in
more ordinary work clay tiles of very simple form were
employed. One variety, still very common in Italy, is
shown in C, fig. 3. In this form of so-called "pan-tile"
each tilo has a double curve, forming a tegula and imbrex
both in one. Stone tiles were also very common through-
out the Middle Ages. Another kind of roofing tile, largely
used in pre-Norman times and for some centuries later for
certain purposes, was made of thin pieces of split wood,
generally oak; these are called "shingles." They stand
the weather fairly well, and many old examples still exist,
especially on the wooden towers and spires of Ea.st Anglia.
At the present day, when slate is not used, tiles of burnt
clay are the ordinary roofing material, and many compli-
cated forms have been invented to exclude rain. Most ol
tliese are, however, costly and do not answer better than
a plain rectangular tile about 9 by 6 inches, fastened with
two copper or even stout zinc nails, and well bedded on
mortar mixed with hair. For additional security clay
tiles are usually made with two small projections at the
' ^ The dome of the Pantheon was covered with tiles or plates of
bronze thickly gilt, as were also the roofs of the forum of Trajan.
^ Bronze tiles for small buildings such as this were usually of a
pointed oval form, something like the feathers of a bird. " Thia kind
of tiling is called pavonaceiim by Pliny, I/./i., xxxvi. 22.
* Part of the bronze tiles had been stripped from the temple of
Jupiter by the Vaudals in 455 ; see Procopius, Bell. Van., i. 5. <■
^ The gilt domes of Moscow are example."* of this use of copper.
TILES
389
*up{^>er edge, which hook on to the battens- to which they
are nailed. Broseley (Shropshire) is on« of the chief
places in England for the manufacture of roofing tiles of
the better sort. The common kinds are made wherever
good clay exists In some places pan-tiles are still used
and have a very picturesque effect ; but they are liable to
let in the rain, as they cannot be securely nailed or well
bedded in mortar In Gloucestershire, Yorkshire, and
Other counties of England, stone tiles are still employed,
but are rapidly going out of use, as they require very strong
roof-timbers to support them, and the great extension of
railways has made the common purple slates cheap in
nearly every district.
Some of the mos<iue3 and palaces of Persia are roofed
with the most magnificent enamelled lustred tiles, decorated
with elaborate painting, so that they shine like gold in the,
eun They were specially nsed from the 13th to the loth
century In style and method of manufacture the finest
of them resemble the frieze shown in fig. 5.
2. Wilt Tiles. — These have been partly described under
Mcp.AL Decoration
(vol. xvii. p. 33)'
In most Oriental
countries -tiles were
used in the most mag
nificent w-aythrough
out the Middle Ages,
especially in Damas-
cus, Cairo, Moorish
Sfiain, and in the
chief towns of Persia
Fig. 4 shows a fine
example from a
mosque in Damas-
cus, From the 1 '2th
to the 16th century
a special kind of
lustred tile was
largely employed for
dadoes, friezes, and
other wall surfaces,
being frequently
made in large slabs
and modelled boldly ^ ''^- ■*•
in rehef, with sen-
tences from sacred books or the names and dates of reifrn-
ing caliphs. The whole was picked out in colour, usually
dark or turquoise blue, on a ground of cream-white enamel,
and in the last firing minute ornaments in copper lustre
were added over the whole design, giving the utmost
splendour of effect (see fig. 5). Great skill and taste are
eho^vn by the way in which the delicate painted enrich-
ments are made to contrast with the bold decoration in
relief. These lustred tiles sometimes line the prayer-niche
in houses and mosques ; in such cases the slabs u.sually have
a conventional representation of the kaaVia at Mecca, with
a lamp hanging in front of it and a border of sentences
from the Koran ^ The mosques of Persia are specially
rich in this method of decoration, magnificent iC.xamples
existing at Natenz, Seljuk, Tabriz, Ispahan, and other
places.' In the IGth and 17th centuries tiles of a coarse
kind of majolica were used for wall decoration in southern
Spain ; some rich examples still exist in Seville. These
appear to be the work of Ilaban potters who had settled
in Spain. The amlejoe (wall tiles) in the Alhambra and
* For Ibe eoamelled wail tilea of aacient Egj-pt, see Pottert, vol.
xii. p 603
The South KeDsiDgtoQ Museum, London, containe" ma&y fiae ex*
tmples, us well SLS of the later sorts, like those shown in lig. 4.
• See Coste, JJ<mume7Ut de la Perse, Pans, 1867.
-*V.-ili liles from Damascus, of the
16th century.
other buildings in Spain are among the most beautifiJ
productions of Hispano-Moonsh art.* In technique they
resemble majolica ; but the finest kinds, dating from the
Fig. 5. — Persian lustred tilea ol the l;ith centur>', forming
part of a fneze. (South Keuaington Museum.)
1-lth and loth centuries, have designs taken from mosaic
patterns, with complicated lines of geometrical mterlacmgs.*
3. floor Tiles. — From the 12th to the Itith century
floor tiles in most northeid countries of Europe were made
by filling up with clr.y of a diflferent colour patterns sunk
in slabs of -.clay (see ExcAUS-nc Tiles). In Italy, during
the latter part of the loth and the first half of the J6th
century, majolica tiles, rich both in pattern and in colour,
were used for pavements in many places. Comparatively
few examples now exist ; the majolica enamel was too soft
to stand the wear of feet. One of the small south chapels
in the church of S. Maria del Poi>olo in Rome has a, very
fine pavement of these tiles, executed, probably at Forli,
about 1480 for Cardinal della Rovere (Julius 11 ), whose
arms — an oak tree — are repeated frequently among the
rich decorations. A still more magnificent tile floor in
the uppermost of Raphael's Vatican loggie is mentioned
under Robbia (vol. xx. p. 591). The same article (p. 569)
describes the exquisite majolica tiles which Luca della
Fio. 6. — Majohca paving tiles Irom Siena, mude in 1501#
(South Kensingtou Museum.)
Robbia made as a border for the tomb of Bishop Federighi
at Florence. Fine examples of tile paving of 14B7 exist
in the basilica of S. Petromo at Bologna, and others of
* The method of manufacture employed by Moslem races for tjlea
is the same as that used for their iKjtleiy , see vol ziz. i>. 6'20, also
Mt:it4L DECORi-noN, vol. xvu pp. 36-36
^ For the decorative use of tileii, dee Juhen Foy, La C^romifiM dta
Corutructioiu, Faru, 1883.
390
T I L— T I L
rather earlier date ia S. Paolo at Parma. The chapel 'of
St Catherine at Siena and the church of S. Sebastiano at
Venice have majolica paving of about 1510. Fig. 6 shows
an example of about this date from the Petrucci Palace
in Siena, now in the South Kensington Museam.i In
the early' part of the 16th century majolica tiles from
Spain were occasionally imported into England. At the
south-east of the mayor's chapel at Bristol there exists,
though much worn, a fine pavement of Spanish tiles dating
from about 1520. Others have been found in London, at
Newington Butts, and in other places. At the present
time imitations of the unfortunately named " encaustic
tiles " are almost the only sort employed in England and
other northern countries. Very cOarse and poorly designed
majolica tiles are still made and used for paving in Italy
and Spain. (j. h. m.)
TILLEMONT, SiSASXiEN le N.un de (1637-1698),
ecclesiastical historian, was born at Paris on 30th Novem-
ber 1637, and received his education in the "petites ^coles"
of the Port Royalists, Nicole being his principal master.
At an early age he became an admiring student of Livy
and Baronius and began to accumulate those vast collec-
tions which form the basis of his monumental works. He
continued to carry on his studies in the seminary at Beau-
vais, where the bishop was a warm patron ; but it was
not until 1676, two or three years after his return to Paris,
that, under the iniiuencs of Isaac de Sacy, he entered the
priesthood. He took up his abode in a humble dwelling
at Port Royal des Cha,raps, where he remained till the dis-
persion of .the "solitaires" in 1679, after which event he
spent the remainder of his life (with -the exception of a
visit to Arnauld in Holland in 1685) at TiUemont, between
Montreuil and Vincennes. He died on 28th January 1698
and was buried at Port Royal ; in 1711 his remains were
removed to the church of St Andr6 des Arcs, Paris.
His great work, M&rrunrcs pour smrir d Vhistoire eeclesiastiqu^ des
six premiers sUclts to 513 A.D. (1693-1712, 16 vols., 4to), ia a model
of patient, exhaustive, and what Gibbon has called "sure-footed"
erudition (see vol. v. p. 765). Of his equally learned Histoire des
empereiirs et des mitres princes qui ont rigni dura-nt Us six premiers
eiiclcs de Teglise (1690-1738, 4to) no more than four volumes were
published. TiUemont also gavp valuable assistance to Hennant,
Du Fosse, and other Port Koyaliats in their historical work.
TILLOTSON, John (1630-1694), archbLshop of Can-
terbury, was the son of a Puritan clothier in Sowerby,
Yorkshire, where he waa born in October 1630. He en-
tered as a pensioner of Clare Hall, Cambridge, in. 1647,
graduated in 1650, and was made fellow of his college in
1651. ChiUingwortb's Religion of Protestantism biassed
his mind against Puritanism, and tho bias was further
confirmed by intercourse with Cudworth and others at
Cambridge. In 1656 he became tutor to the son of
Edward Prideaui, attorney general to CromwelL In what
year he took orders is unknown, but, according tc the Life
published in 1717, the person who ord^ed' him was Dr
T. Sydserf, a Scottish bishop. Tilloteon was present at
the Savoy Conference in 1661, and remained identified
with the Presbyterians till the passing of the Act of Uni-
formity in 1662. Shortly afterwards he became curate of
Cheshunt, Herts, and in June 1663 rector of.Keddington,
Suffolk. For several years after his ordination he -devoted
himself to an exact study of the Scriptures, ancient ethics,
and the vrritings of the early fathers, especially BasU and
Chrysostom. The result was seen in the general tone 6f
Jiis preaching, which was practical rather' than theologicaj,
^nd, though regarded by some ae latitudinarian, was char-
acterized by the earnestness of sincere conviction and the
balanced wisSom gained by thoughtful reflexion. He was,
mol-eover, a man of the world as well as a divine, and in
' See V«nzolini, Fabbricht di Maioticht, Peaaro, 1879, iL p. 229 sq. ;
ted Tnti, Pavimmto ntUa Btu. Peironiana, Bologna, 1853.
his sermons he exhibited a certain indefinable tact which
enabled him at once to win the ear of his audience. His
style is chiefly remarkable for its simplicity and clearness,
and in this respect it mirrored his own candour and sin-
cerity. The qualities' above mentioned won him in his
lifetime the reputation of " having brought preaching to
perfection "; and probably it was because he was neither
brilliant, original, nor profound that his preaching was so
universally admired. "His sermons," says Burnet, "were
so well heard and liked, and so much read, that all the
nation proposed him as a pattern and studied to copy
after him." In 1664 he became preacher at Lincoln's
Inn. The same year he married Miss French, 'daughter
of the canon of Christ Church, Oxford, and niece of Oliver
Cromwell ; and he also became Tuesday lecturer at St
Lawrence, Jewry. TiUotson employed his controversial
weapons with some skill against "atheism" and "Popery."
In 1663 he published a characteristic sermon on "The
Wisdom of being Religious," and in 1666 replied to
Sergeant's Sure Footing in Christianity by a pamphlet
on the Rule of Faith. The same year he received the de-
gree of D.D. In 1670 he became prebendary and in 1672
dean of Canterbury. Through his wife TiUotson becarne
connected with Dr Wilkins, the second husband of her
mother. In 1675 he edited Wilkins's Principles ofJS^atural
Religion, completing what was, left unfinished of it, and
in 1682 his Sermons, with a preface in which he vindicated
Wilkins from certain misrepresentations of Wood in his
History and ATiiiquiiies of the University of Qxford. In
1680 he brought out Barrow's Treatise of the Pope's Su-
premacy, and in 1683 his Sermons. On 5th November
1678 TiUotson preached a sermon against Popery before-
the House of Commons, in which he maintained that it
was their duty to make provision against the propagation
of a religion more mischievous than irreligion itself ; but
in a sermon on the Protestant religion in 1680 before the
king he propounded the proposition that Catholics could
enjoy their own faith, but not openly draw men off from
the profession of the established religion. Along with
Burnet, TWotson attended Lord Russell on the scaffold in
1683, and after the publication of Lord Russell's speech
was appointed to appear before the privy covmcU ; but his
explanations were regarded as satisfactory, the chief sus-
picions in connexion with the speech resting on 'Burnet,.
TiUotson afterwards enjoyed the friendship of Lady Rus-
sell, and it was partly through, her that he obtained so
much influence with Princess Anne, who foUowed his ad.
vice in regard to the settlement of the crown on WiUiam
of Orange. Ha possessed the special confidence of WiUiam
and Mary, and was made clerk of the closet to the king,
27th March 1689. It was chiefly through his advice that
the king appointed an ecclesiastical commissioin for the
reconciliatipn of the Dissenters, and he was regarded as
the representative in the commission of the views of the
king and queen. In August of this year he was appointed
by the chapter of his cathedral to exercise the atchiepis.
copal jurisdiction of the province of Canterbury during
the suspension of Sancroft. He was also about tho same
time named dean of St Paul's. Soon afterwards he was
elected to su(S:eed Sancroft ; but he accepted the promo-
tion with extreme reluctance, and it was deferred from
time to time at his request tiU AprU 1691. His attempt^
to reform certain abuses of the church, especiaUy that of
non- residence among the clergy, awakened against him
much Ul-will, and of this the Jacobites took every possible
advantage and pursued him, to the end of his life with
insult and reproach. " This," Bumet says, " could neither
provoke him, nor fright him from his duty; but it affected
his mind so much that this was thought to have shortened
his days." He died of palsy on 24th November 1694.
T I L — T I M
391
For hi3 maouscnpt sermons Tillotson's widow received 2500
^iceas, then an unexampWd sum, and for many years their popu-
larity remained unrivalled During his lifetime he published Ser-
tiums on Seierat OccasUns, 1671. repubhshed with a second volume
added in 1678 ; tyty Sermons and the Rule of FaUh, 1691 , Four
Sermam cancemxng the IhmnUy and [ncamalton of our Bles^d
SavwuT, 1693 , Six Sermons on Several Occasions, 1694 His Post-
•hunwus Sermons, edited by Dr Ralph Baker, appeared in 14 v.^ls .
1694. third ediiion, 1704 His IVorks were published in 1707
J710, and were frequently reprinted In 1752 an edition appeared
in 3 vols, with Life by Thomas Birrh. D D , compiled from Tillot-
son's original papers and letters. Of the many suDsequent editions
the best is that, with Life by Birch, of 1820. 10 vols. Various selec-
tions from bis sermons and works have been published separately
See la addition to Birch 3 £,;/«, Weifonl « ilemarials. Bumel's Own T\ma. aod
Macaulay 3 Hvtory o/ fnyfantt
TILLY, JoHiJJN TsERCLAES, CotTNT OP (1559-1632), a
famous general, was born ia February 1559 at the chateau
of Tilly in Brabant. It was originally intended that lie
should become a priest, and he vas strictly educated by
the Jesuits He preferred, however, the life of a soldier,
and began his military career in the Netherlands, under
Alessandro Farnese, in the Spanish service. Afterwards
he joined the imperial army, and as lieutenant -colonel
tinder Duke Philip Emmanuel of Lorraine greatly distin-
guished himself in Hungary in the war against the Turks
For his brilliant achievements he was raised to the rank
of field-marshal. In 1610 he was put by Maximilian I.
at the head of his Bavarian army ; and soon after the out-
break of the Thirty Years' War he was made commander-
in-chief of the troops of the Catholic League. In this
position he displayed qualities which placed him among
the foremost generals of the age. After the battle of
Prague (the White Hill) in 1620 he thoroughly subdued
Bohemia, and in 1622 conquered the Palatinate, — a ser-
•vice for which Ferdinand II gave him the title of count.
In 1623 he defeated Christian of Brunswick at Stadtlohn
in Westphalia, and in 1626 Christian IV of Denmark at
Lutter in Brunswick. The consequence of the latter
victory was that Tilly and Wallenstein were able to cross
the Elbe ; but, as Tilly was wounded before Pinneberg in
Schleswig-Holstein, the task of finally compelling the king
of Denmark to accept terms of peace had to be left to
Wallenstein alone. When WaUenstein was obliged in 1630
to withdraw for a while into private life, Tilly added to the
functions he already discharged those of commander of the
imperial forces. From this time the only important success
achieved by him was the storming of Magdeburg (May
1631), a success accompanied by frightful cruelties, for
which he was at least in part responsible. Gustavus Add-
phus had now come forward as the champion of Protest-
antism, and Tilly, waih all his genius and tenacity, was not
a match for the Swedish king. Four months after the
capttire of Magdeburg Tilly was defeated at Breitenfeld
in Saxony, and was himself so severely wounded that he
escaped from the field with difficulty. In March 1632 he
drove the Swedes from Bamberg and placed himself in an
entrenched camp at Rain to prevent them from passing
over the Lech. Gustavus Adolphus crossed the stream,
and in the fight which ensued Tilly was mortally wounded.
He died in April 1632 at Ingolstadt, and was buried at
AluOetting in Bavaria.
Tilly was of medium height, reserved in manner, and wholly
indifferent to eiternal marks of honour The Roman Church nevet
had a more devoted servant, and he gave evidence of the essential
simplicity of his character by declining the ofi'er of the emperor to
make him a prince and to grant to him the principality of Calen-
berg. As he was not married, bis title and estates descended to
bis nephew.
See SIopp, Tilly im drtusigJSKr^jen KrUgt, Stuttgart. 1861. -uid VillermoDt
TiUj), Toumiy. 185ft
TILSIT, a commercial town of East Prussii, ind the
capital of Prussian Lithuania, is situated on the i. ' bank
of the Memel or Niemen, 52 miles south-east of th. town
of Memel and 60 north-east of Konigsberg.- The town
IS spacious, and has a number of handsome modem build-
ings, including a town-house, post-office, law-courts, and a
large hospital It contains three Protestant churches, a
Roman Catholic church, and a Jewish synagogue The
manufactures include soap, leather, shoes, glass, and other
articles, and there are iron foundries and steam flour and
saw mills Tilsit carries on trade in timber, grain, hemp,
flax, herrings, and other northern produce , but its trade
with Russia, at one time considerable, has fallen off since
the construction of the railway from Konigsberg ma Inster-
burg and Gumbinnen to Kovno The river is navigable
beyond the town The market gardening of the neigh-
bourhood deserves mention, and the annual horse-fair and
markets are of considerable local importance In 1783
the population was 8060, m 1880 it had increased to
21,400, and in 1885 to 22,428
Tilsit, which received town rights in 1552, grew np around a
castle of the Teutonic order, kiiow-n as the "Schalauner Haus,"
founded in 1288. It owes most of its interest to the peace signed
here on 9th July 1807, the preliminaries of which were settled by
the emperors Alexander and Napoleon on a raft moored in the
Memel The peace of Tilsit, whirh constituted the kingdom of
Westphalia and the duchy ol Warsaw, registers the nadu of Prussia's
humiliation under Napoleon (see Prussia, vol. xx. p 11). Tb»
poet Max von Schenkendorf (1784 J 817) was born at Tilsit.
TIMBELR. See Building, Forests, and Strength of
Mateeiaxs ; also Fir, Oak, Pine, Teak, &c.
TIMBUKTU, or TiMBUCToo(Sonrhai, Timbvtu , Berber,
Tumbutku , Arab, Tin-buktu), a. city of the Sahara, on the
southern verge of the desert, in 18° 4' N. lat. and 1° 45'
W long., at the north-east extremity of the Fulah state
of Moassina (Massina), 9 miles north of its riverine port
Kabara, on the left bank of the Nvger, at the confluence
of the numerous branches of the Jobba (upper Niger)
where it trends eastwards, and at the converging point of
the main trade routes from the Gulf of GJ^iinea and from
the Mediterranean across the western Sahara. Timbuktu
lies on a terrace formed by the southern scarp of the
desert, about 800 feet above sea-level, and overlooking a
chain of dkayaa or marshy hollows, fringed here and there
with afew.mimosas and palm thickets, amid the surround-
ing sandy wastes. These dhayas, which are flooded every
three or four years, converting the lowland tracts between
th§ terrace and the main stream into, a labyrinth of
channels and backwaters, mark the bed of a navigable
creek which formerly branched from the Niger northwards
to the foot of the scarp, and which in 1640 inundated a
low lying quarter of the city. According to Pouyanne
and Sabatier, the main stream followed this course before
it took its present easterly curve to Burum, where it bends
southwards to the coast. Here also it was probably joined
at some remote period by the now dried up Wady Messaura
from the Tu4t oases south oi Algeria, although the rough
levels taken by Oscar Lenz and others make it uncertain
whether the flow through this depression was northwards
or southwards. In any case Timbuktu has been left, so
to say, high and dry by the general process of desiccation
going on throughout the Saharian region It was founded,
or more probably captured, by the Tuareg Berbers about
the 1 1th century, and under the Mandingo kings of Mali
(Mall^) was a noted mart for gold and salt in the 14th
century, mentioVi of "Timboutch " occnrring on a Catalan
map dated 1373 Under Askia, founder of the e.^itensive
but short-lived Sonrhai empire (1492), it rose to great
splendour and became with Gogo a chief centre of Moham-
medan culture for the peoples of western Sudan. But
since the overthrow (1591) of the Sonrhai dynasty by the
Morocco captain, the Andalusian Jodar with his Ruma
followers, Timbuktu has continued to be the prey of the
surrounding unruly populations— Tuaregs, Arabs or Arab-
ized Berbers, Fulahs (1800), and Toucouleurs (1865).
Being thus at the mercy of all, it has ceased to rebuild its
592
T I M — T I M
Idjsmantled walla, being content to pay tribute to each in
turn and sometimes to more than one simultaneously, for
which it indemnifies itself by peaceful intervals of trade
whenever the land routes are open and the upper and
jlower reaches of the Niger are clear of pirates. But at
,times even the short tract separating it from ELabara is so
beset with marauders that it bears the ominous name of
(" Ur-immandess," that is, " He (God) hears not." Recently,
however, it has ■enjoyed a considerable interval of peace,
and the population, estimated by Barth at 11,000 in 1853,
had risen to 20,000 in 1880 (Lenz). These form a motley
group of Sonrhais, Tuaregs, Mandingoes, Arabs from Mor-
occo, Berabish Arabs, Bambaras, Fulahs, and since 1850 a
few Jewish traders. Apart from some Christian captives,
the place was reached during the 19th century by only
four Europeans — Laing from Tripolitana (1826), who was
murdered on his return journey, Cailli6 from the north
(1828), Barth from central Sudan (1853), and Lenz from
Morocco (1880). Since 1884, however, regular relations
have been opened with the French on the upper Niger.
From the ruins covering extensive tracts on the north and west
sides, it is evident that Timbuktu was formerly a much larger
place than at present. Even the great mosquo, which must at one
time have stood in the centre, now lies near the outskirts, where
its high but unsightly earth tower forms a striking landmark.
The aggregate of mean hovels or mud houses of which the place
consists is only relieved by a few structures of a better class. As
in former times, a great staple of trade is salt from Taudeni and
other parts of the Sahara, here exchanged with gold dust for kola
nuts from the south, Manchester goods, and some other European
wares, which with tea are imported from Morocco or penetrate
from the British protected territories along the .lower Niger.
Coiyrio^, slowly yielding to European moneys, are the chief currency.
The local industries are 'mainly conQned to 'some fancy and other
leatherwork prepared by the Tuareg women. _The local adminis-
tration is in the hands of an hereditary kahur^ a kind of mayor,
descended from o^e of the Ruma families. The kahia is himself
more or less under the control of a neighbouring Tuareg chief and
of the powerful Bakhai family, who, as "sheriis" and marabouts,
are revered thronghout the westerii Sahara. Timbuktu, which
possesses some valuable Arabic manuscripts and is still a centre of
Moslem teaching, is a converging point of the chief west Sudanese
and Saharan races — Arabs or Arabized Berbers to the west;
Sonrhais in the immediate vicinity, and thence south-eastwards
along the Niger; Ireghenaten or "mixed" Tuaregs southwards
across the Niger as far as the Hombori Hills and in the fertile
Libbako plains beyond them ; Fulahs, Mandingoes, and Bambaras
in and about the city ; and Imohag or Imdsharh Tuaregs belonging
'to the Awellimiden confederation mainly to the north and east.
TIME, Measitrement of. Time is measured by suc-
cessive phenomena recurring , at regular intervals. The
only astronomical phenomenon which rigorously fulfils this
condition, and the most striking one, — the apparent daily
revolution of the celestial sphere caused by the rotation
of the earth, — has from the remotest antiquity been
employed as a measure of lime. The interval between
,two successive returns of a fixed point on the sphere to
the meridian is called the sidereal day; and sidereal time'
is reckoned from the moment when the " first point of
Aries " (the vefnal equinox) passes the meridian, the
hours being counted from 0 to 24. Clocks and chrono-
meters regulated to sidereal time are only used by astro-
nomers, to whom they aro indispensable, as the sidereal
time at any moment is equal to the right ascension of any
star just then passing the meridian. For ordinary pur-
poses solar time is used, In the article Astronomy (vol.
ii. p. 771) it is shown that the solar day, as defined by
the successive returns of the sun to the meridian, does
not furnish a uniform measure of time, owing to the
^slightly variable velocity of the sun's motion and the
inclination of its orbit to the equator, so that it becomes
necessary to introduce aa imaginary mean sun moving in
the equator with uniform velocity. The equation of time
iloc. cit., pp. 772-773) is the difference between apparent
or trae) solar time and mean solar time. The Utter is
that shown by clocks and watches used for ordinary pur-'
poses. Mean time is converted into apparent time by
applying the equation of time with its proper sign, as
given in the Nautical Almanac and other ephemerides fot
every day at noon. As the equation varies from day to
day, it is necessary to take this into account, if the appar-
ent time is required for any moment different from noon.
The ephemerides also give the sidereal time at mean
noon, from which it is easy to find the sidereal time at
any moment, as 24 hours of mean solar time are equal to
24'' 3° 56'-5554 of sidereal time.. About 2l6t March of
each year a sidereal clock agrees with a mean-time clock,'
but it gains on the latter 3" 56'-5 every day, so that in
the course of a year it has gained a whole day. For a
place not on the meridian of Greenwich the sidereal timel
at noon must be corrected by the addition or subtractionj
of 9' 8565 for each hour of longitude, according as tha
place is west or east of Greenwich. ^
While it has for obvious reasons become customary in
all civilized countries to commence the ordinary or civil
day at midnight, astronomers count the day from noon,
being the transit of the mean sun across the meridian,
in strict conformity with the rule as to the beginning of
the sidereal day. The hours of the astronomical day are
also counted from 0 to 24. An international conference
which met in the autumn of 1884 at Washington, to con-
sider the question of introducing a universal day (see
below), has recommended that the astronomical day should
commence at midnight, to make it coincide with the civil
day. The great majority of American and Continental
astronomers have, .however, expressed themselves very
strongly against this change; and, even if it should be
made in the British Nautical Almanac, it appears very
doubtfiil whether the other great ephemerides will adopt
it, the more so as astronomers have hitherto felt no in-
convenience from the difference between the astronomical
and the civil day. -
Determination of Time. — ^The problem of determining
the exact time at any moment is practically identical with
that of determining the apparent position of any known
point on the celestial' sphere with regard to one of the
fixed (imaginary) great circles appertaining to the observer's
station, the meridian or the horizon. The point selected
is either the sun or one of the standard stars, the places
of which are accurately determined and given for every
tenth day in the modern ephemerides. The time thus
determined furnishes the error of the clock, chronometer,
or watch employed, and a second determination of time
after an interval gives a new value of the error and thereby
the rate of the timekeeper.
The ancient astronomers, although they have left ns
very ample information about their dials, water or sand
clocks (clepsydra), and similar timekeepers, are very re-
ticent as to how these were controlled. Ptolemy, in hia
Almagest, states nothing whatever as to how the time was
found when the numerous astronomical phenomena which
he records took place ; but Hipparchus in the only book
we possess from his hand gives a list of forty-four stars
scattered over the sky at intervals of right ascension equal
to exactly one hour, bo that one or more of them would be
on the meridian at the commencement of every sidereal
hour. In a very valuable paper ' Schjellerup has shown
that the right ascensions assumed by Hipparchus agree
within about 1 6' or one minute of time with those calctilated
back to the year 140 b.c, from modern star-places and pro-
per motions. The accuracy which, it thus appears, could
be attaine*' Oy the ancients in their determinations of time
* **B" .erches sor rAatrouomie des Anciens ; I. Sar lechronomdtrtt
o^Bste Jippan]ne,"iaCppem>cu<.' An ItUemacimuit Journal a/ ^.
tnmm ,, L p. 2S. "
TIME
393
was far beyond what they seem to have considered neces-
sary, as they.ouly record astronomical phenomena (<•;/•,
cchpses, occultations) as havipg occurred " towards the
middle of the third hour," or "about 8^ hours of the night,"
witliout ever giving minutes.' Tlic Arabians had a clearer
perception of the importance of knowing the accurate
time of phenomena, and in the j-ear S29 we find it stated
that at the commencement of the solar eclipse on 30th
November the altitude of the sun was 7° and at the end
24°, as observed at Baghdad by Ahmed ibn Abdallah,
called Habash.- This seems to be the earliest determina-
tion of time by an altitude ; and this method then came
into general use among the Arabians, who on observing
lunar eclipses never failed to measure the altitude of some
bright star at the beginning and end of the eclipse. In
Europe this method was adopted by Purbach and Rcgio-
montanus, apparently for the first time in 1457. Bernhard
Walther, a pupil of the latter, seems to have been the
first to use for scientific purposes clocks driven by weights :
he states that on IGth January 1484 he observed the
rising of the planet Mercury and immediately attached
the weight to a clock having an hour-wheel with fifty-sis
teeth; at sunrise one hour and thirty-five teeth had passed,
so that the interval was an hour and thirty-seven minutes.
For nearly two hundred years, until the application of
the pendulum to clocks became general, astronomers could
place little or no reliance on their clocks, and consequently
it was always necessary to fi.\ the moment of an ob-
servation by a simultaneous time determination. For
this purpose Tycho Brahe employed altitudes observed
with quadrants ; but he remarks that they are not always
of value, for if the star is taken too near the meridian the
altitude varies too slowly, and if too near the horizon the
refraction (which at that time was very imperfectly known)
introduces an element of uncertainty. He therefore pre-
ferred azimuths, or with the large "armillary spheres"
■which played so important a part among his instruments
he measured hour-angles or distances from the meridian
along the equator.^ Transits of stars across the meridian
were also observed with the meridian quadrant, an instru-
ment which is alluded to by Ptolemy and was certainly in
use at the Marigha (Persia) observatory in the 13th cen-
tury, but of which Tycho was the first to make extensive
use. It appears, however, that he chiefly employed it for
determining star-places, having obtained the clock error
by the methods already described.
In addition to these methods, that of "equal altitudes"
was much in use during the 17th century. That equal
distances east and west of the meridian correspond to equal
altitudes had of course been known as long as sun-dials
had been used ; but, now that quadrants, cross-staves, and
parallactic rules ^ were commonly ensployed for measuring
altitudes more accurately, the idea naturaj'y suggested it>
self to determine the time of a star's or the ■sun's meridian
passage by noting the moments when it reached any par-
ticular altitude on both sides of the meridian. But Tycho's
plan of an instrument fixed in the meridian was not for-
gotten, and from the end of the 17th century, when Roemer
invented the transit instrument, the observation of transits
across the meridian became the principal means of deter-
mining time at fixed observatories, while the obseri'ation
of altitudes, first by portable quadrants, afterwards by re-
flecting sextants, and during the 19th century by port-
able alt-azimuths or theodoUtes, has been used on journeys.
^ For astroDoisiol purposes the ancients made use of mean. time
boors — wpoi Urri^uptrai, harm equinocliaUs — into which they translated
ft.l indicatioDS expressed in civil hoars of varying length — Clfoi KotpiKcU,
i-orm tempoTa2e3. Ptolemy coonU the mean day from noon-
' Caussin, Le Here dt la grande tahU HakemiU, Paris, 1804, p. 100.
' See his Epistclm astTonamictE^ p. 73.
* See NAVioATioa, voL xviL pp. 251 •ml 25&
During the last fifty years the small transit instrument,
w ith what is known as a " broken telescope," has also been
much employed on scientific expeditions; but great caution
is necessary in using it, as the difficulties of getting a per-
fectly rigid mounting for the prism or mirror ■n-hich reflects
the rays from the object-glass through the axis to the eye-^
piece appear to be very great, for strange discrepancies in
the results have often been noticed. The gradual develop-
ment of astrononucal instruments has been accompanied
by a corresponding development in timekeepers. From
being very untrustworthy, astronomical clocks are now
made to great perfection by the application of the pendu-
lum and by its compensation, while the invention oi
chronometers has placed a portable and equally trust-
worthy timekeeper in the hands of travellers.
We shall now give a sketch of the principal methods of
determining time.
lu the spherical trianRlc ZPS between the zenith, the pole, and
a star the side ZP^ 90° - <?> (<(> bcin^' tlio latitude), /'S=90°-!(J
l>cing the declination), and ZS or Z-'^O" minus tlic observed alti-
tude. Tlie angle ZPS = lh\.\\e star's hour-angle or, in time, the
interval between the moment of observation and the meridian passr
age of the star. We have then
. cos ^- sin* sin J
cos ( = ^—i
cos <p cos 0
which formula can be made more convenient for the use of logantJun^
by putting Z+^-i-S = 2S, which gives
^^^ s_in(5-^)sin(5-5)
COSA' cos(i'-if)
According as the star was observed west or «aso ol thfliiieridian,
t will be positive or negative, if a be the riglit ascension of the
star, the sidereal time =i t a, a as well as 5 being taken from an
ephemeris. If the sun had been observed, the hour-angle i would
be the apparent solar time. The altituile observed must be cor-
rected for refraction, and in the case of the sun also for parallax,
while the sun's semi-diameter must be added or subtracted, accord-
ing as the lower or upper limb was observed. The declination ol
the sun being variable, and being given in the ephemerides for '
noon of each ilay, allow-ance must be made for this by interpolating
with an approximate value of the time. As the altitude changes
very slowly near the meridian, this methotl is most advantageous
if the star be taken near the prime vertical, while it is also easy to
see that the greater the latitude the more uncertain the result.
If a number of altitudes of the same object are observed, it is not
necessary to deduce the clock enor separately from each observa-
tion, but a correction may be applied to the mean of the zenith
distances. Supposing n observations to be taken at the moraentA
T",, Tp T,, . . ., the mean of all being 7*0, and calling the z corre-
sponding to this Z, we have
dZ,„ „, 1
n)"
f(^-n>^
Z='-l-
and so on, < being the hour-angle answering to JV As *;( T - To)
= 0, these equations give
-3-1-.-- 1 (f^^(7'^-7^„)'^-(7^^-^^,)'■t-.■.:
I ~2 dl' n
__z^ + z,-^:,+ ... dT-Z Z2s\n' h{T-T„)
n ~ dp— n — • ■
But, if in the above-mentioned triangle we designate the angles »'
Z and 5 by 180° - A and p, we have
sin 2 sin .(4 = cos 3 .sin t ;
sin : cos ..4 = - cos <> sin J -(- sin 0 cos 5 cos I ;
and by differentiation
drZ _ cos ip cos 5 cos A co^p
dt- sin.?
in which A and p are determined by
- sin ^ . , . sin (
sin A = -. — ^ cos 6 and sin n = - — ^ cos q>. V
swZ -^ sinZ V_
■With this corrected mean of the observed zenith distances the hoar-
angle and time are determined, and by comparison with 7"^ the error
of the timekeeper.
The method of equal altitudes pves very simply the clock error
equal to the right ascension minus half the sura of the clock times
corresponding to the observed equa^. altitudes on both sides of the
meridian. When the sun is observed, a correction has to be applied
for the change of declination in the interval between the observs-
tioBii Calling this interval 2t, the correction to the sppaient nooo
XXUL — so
394
TIME
giu'jn tiy tho observitioD3 r, lli<-. cliango of divlination iu half tlic
intcrvil tli, anJ the ob3«;iT<J aJtituJo k, wc fiavo
1 sin * = sin "^ sin (5- 4o) + eos<^cos(S- &S)i:on{C t x)
ind j sin A = sin i sin (J 4-i5)+cos0cos(i + A5)coj((-:r),
whence, as c >s i may be put = 1 . sio jr = i, and tan A5 = A5,
\sia< tan</
which, diviloil hy 15, gifes the required correction in seconds of
time. Similarly an afternoon observation may be combined with
an observation raado the following i:Iorniiig to find the time of
apparent miduiglit
The observation of the time when a star has a certain azimuth
mny also be used for deterrainioe the clock error, as the hour-angle
can be found from the declination, the latitude, and the azimuth.
As the azimuth changes most rapidly at the meridian, the observa-
tion is most advantageous there, besides whicl^ it is neither neces-
sary to know the latitude nor the doclination accurately. In tho
article Gkodesy (vol x. p 1 66) it has bi;en shown how the Observed
time of transit over the meridian is corrected for tho deviations of
the instrument in azimuth, level, and collimation. Thia corrected
time of transit, expressed in sidereal time, should then be equal
to the right ascension of the object observed, and tho difference ia
the clock error. In observatories tlie determination of a clock's
error (a nei'cssary operation during a night's work with a transit
circle) is generally founded on observations of fonr or five "clock
stars," these being standard stars not near the pole, of which tho
absolute right ascensions havo been determined with groat care,
besides observation of acloso circumpolar star for finding the error
of azimuth and determination oflevel and collimation error,*
Observers in the field with portable instruments often find it
inconvenient to wait for the meridian transits of one of the few
close circumpolar stars given in the ephemeridea. In that case
they have recourse to what is known as the method of time deter*
minuti'in in the vortical of a pole star. The alt-azimuth is first
dirccte.l to one of the standartt stars near the pole, such as a or j
Ursa^ Minoris, using whichever is nearest to the meridian at the
time. Xhe instrument is set so that the star in a few minutea
will cross the middle vertical wite in the field. Tho spirit-level is
in the meantime put on the axis and the inclination of the latter
measured. The time of tho transit of the star is then observed, after
which the instrument, remaining clamped in azimuth, is turned to
a clock star and the transit of this over all the wires is observed.
The level is applied again, and the mean of the two results is used
in the reductions. In case the collimation error of the instrument
is not .accurately known, the instrument should be reversed and
anotlier observation of the same kind taken. The observations
made in each position of the instrument are separately reduced
with an assumed approximate value of the error of collimation,
and two equations are thus derived from which the clock error and
conection to the assumed collimation error are found. This use of
the tTdrisii or alt-azimuth out of the meridian throws considerably
more w.irk on the computer than the meridian observations do, and
it IS thtretore never resorted to except wlun an observer during
field opi rations is pressed for time. The formulai of reduction as
dcvclnp.-d by l-Linsen in the Astronomischc PCnckrichtrn{voV xlviii.
p 113 w; i arc given by Cluuvcnet iu his Sphrricnl antl Practwal
Aatronomij (vol 11 pp 210 s./ , 4th ed , Phihdolnlua, ISTb). The
eubjecl h;>» also been lieatcd at great length by Dollcn in two
memoirs, Du ^eiff'i^firnniuity vrrm't'chl rfc-^ tragharcn Durchjjanrjs-
insfri/metit in I'crlKalc dci PolarsUms (St Petersburg, 1863 and
187-1, 410)
Lonrjiiutic. — nithcrto wc have only spoken of the do-
Icrniinntion of local time. But in order to compare ob-
servations m.ade at different places on tho surface of the
earth a knowledge of their difference of longitude becomes
ncccs-s-iry, as the local time varies proportionally with the
longitude, one hour corresponding to 1.5°. Longitude can
be dttormiucd cither gcodetically or astronomically. The
first method supposes the earth to be a spheroid of known
dimensions." Starting from a point of departure of which
the latitude has becu determined, tho azimuth from the
meridian (as determined a.stronoraically) and the distance
of some other station are measured. This second station
then serves as a point of departure to a third, and by
repeating this process the longitude and latitude of places
at a considerable distance from the original starting-point
may be found. Referring for this method to the articles
Eaktr (F)otmE OF TqE),' Oeodesv, and StrnvETDJo, we
* The probable error of a clock correction found in this vyay £rx>m
Mie Btai with the Dunsink tcansit circle w.is ±0"'052.
shall here only deal with astronomical methods of detei^
mining longitude.
The earliest astronomer who determined longitude by
astronomical observations seems to have been Hipparchus,
who chose for a first meridian that of Rhodes, where he
observed ; but Ptolemy adopted a meridian laid through
the " Insula; Forlunata;" as being the farthest known plac^
towards the west.^ When tho voyages of discovery began
the peak of Teneriffe was frequently used as a first meri-
dian, until a scientific congress, assembted'by Richelieu, at
Paris in 1630, selected th,e island of Ferro for this purp6se.
Although various other meridian3,(c^., that of Uraniemjurg
and that of San Miguel, one of the Azores, 2'9'' 25' west of
Paris) continued to be iiscd for a lopg time, that of Ferro,
which received tho authorization bf I,oaL? XIU. on 25th
April 1634, gradually superseded the othere. In 1724 the
longitude of Paris from the west coast of .Ferro was found
by Louis Feuill^c, who had been sent there by the Paris
Academy, to be 20° 1' 45"; but on the proposal of Qoil-
laumc de Lisle (1675-1726) the meridiaa of Ferro was
assumed to be exactly 20° west of the Paris observatory.
Modern maps and charts generally give the longitude from
the observatory of either Paris or Greenwich according to
the nationality of the constructor; the Washington meri-
dian conference of 1884 has recommended the exclusive use
of tho meridian of Greenwich, On the same occasion it
was also recommended to introduce tho use of a " uni-
versal day," beginning for the whole earth at Greenwich
midnight, without, however, interfering with the use of
local time.'
The simplest method for determining difference of longi-
tude consists in observing at the two stations some celestial
phenomenon which occtirs at the same absolute moment
for tho whole earth. Hipparchus ppinled out how ob-
servations of lunar eclipses could be used in this way, and
for about fifteen hundred years this was the only method
available. When Regiomontaitos {qv.) began to publish
his ephemerides towards the end of the 15th century, they
furnished other means of determining the longitude. Thus
Amierigo Vespucci observed on 23d August 1499, some-
where on the coast of Venezuela, that the moon at 7' 30"
p M. was 1°, at midnight 5^° east of Mars ; from thls'h'8
concluded that they must have been in conjunction at
6° 30°, whereas the Nuremberg ephemeris announced this
to take place at midnight. This gave the longitude of his
station as roughly equal to 5J hours west of Nuremberg,
The instruments and the lunar tables at that time being
very imperfect, the longitudes determined were very er-
roneous; see Navigation (vol. xviL p. 251), to which
article we may also refer for a history of the long-discussed
problem of finding the longitude at sea. The invention of
the telescope early in the 17th century made it possible to
observe eclipses of Jupiter's satellites; but there is to a
great extent the same drawback attached to these as to
lunar eclipses, that it is impossible to observe with suffi-
cient accuracy the moments at which they occur.
Eclipses of the sun and occultationa of stars by the
moon were also much used for determining longitude bo-
fore the invention of chronometers and the electric tele-
graph offered better means fir fixing the longitude of
observatories. These methods are now hardly ever em-
ployed except by travellers, as they are very inferior aa
regards accuracy. For the necessary formula; see Chau-
• This waa probably first done in the first century by M:irinus of Tyia.
' Thia proposal was chiefly dictated by a wish to facilitate the inter-
national telegraph and railway traffic. In the United States, where the
large extent of the country in longitude makes it impossible to U3«
the time of one meridian, four standard meridians were adopted in
1883, viz., 75°, 90°, 105°, 120° west of Greenwich, so that clock» show-
ing "Eastern, Central, Mountain, or Pacific time" are exactly fi7e,su«
seven, or eight hours slower than a Greenwich mean -time clock.
TIME
395
jt'inet's Spherical and Practical Astrcnomi/~'vo\. i. pp. 518-
642 and 550-557.
^ We DOW proceed to consider"the four methods for find-
ing the longitudes of fixed observatories, viz., by (1) moon
culminatioiis, (2) rockets or other signals, (3) transport of
chronometers, and (4) transmission of time by the electric
telegraph.
1. iloon CidminatioTis.—0^\Ti" to the rapid orbital motion of the
tooon the sidereal time of its culmination is differenffoir different
meridians. If, therefore, the rate of the moon's change of right
ascension is known, it is easy from the observed tinje of culmina-
tion at two stations to deduce their difference of longitude. Let
the right ascension of the moon a and its differential coefficients
be computed for the Greenwich time T, and let the culmination be
observed at two places whose longitudes from Greenwich are X and
X', the time of observation being T+t and T-ht' Greenwich time,
or in local time 2'-hi + X = fland T-m-k-X^ff ; wehavo then
ff-e
-^'-^^%-'F
-^)^-
and, as the difference of longitude is V-X=(ff'-fi)-(i'-0. ^8
have only to determine t' - 1 from the first equation. This is simply
done by a suitable selection of T. Calling T+y^t-¥t')=T, we
have to put T-^ii-t) and r + >i{J.'-t) for T+i and T+S^ It
is then easy to see that
„da .1 ,<Po
^-''=(''-% + ^'''
■')W'
and, solving this equation by first neglecting the second tenn on
the right side and then substituting the value ott-t, thus found
e'-e 1 ry - g-) 3 tPa
' daldt' u\jla.ldlS dfi'
in that term.
i'-l =
In order to be as much as possible independent of instrumental
errors, some standard stars nearly on the parallel of the moon are'
obser\'ed at the two stations ; these " moon-culminating stars " are
given in the ephemerides in order to secure that both observers
take the same stars. As either the preceding or the following limb,
not the centre, of the moon is observed, allowance must be made for
the time the semi-diameter takes to riass the meridian and for the
change of right ascension during this time. This method was
proposed by Pigott towards the end of the 18th century, and has
teen much used ; but, though it may be very serviceable on journeys
and expeditions to distant places where the chronometric and tele-
graphic methods cannot be employed, it is not accurate enough for
fixed observatories. This is due, not only to the difficulties attend-
ing the observation (the difference of personal error in observing the
moon and stars, the different apparent enlargement of the moon
by irradiation in different telescopes and under different atmo.
spheric circumstances, &C.),. but chiefly to the large coefficient
with which d" -S has to be multiplied in the final equation for X' - X.
Errors of four to six secomls of time have therefore frequently
been noticed in longitudes obtained by this method from a limited
number of observations : the longituae of the Madras observatory
was for many years assumed to be S"" 21™ 3'77, but subsequently by
a telegraphic determination thui was found to be 4"37 too great.
2. Signals. — In 1671 Picard determined the difference of longi-
tude between Copenhagen and the site of Tycho Brahe's observa-
tory by watching from the latter the covering and uncovering of a
fire lighted on the top of the observatory tower at Copenhagen.
Powder or rocket signalsTiave been in use since the middle of the
18th century ; they are nowadays never used for this purpose,
although several of the principal observatories of Europe were con-
nected in this manner early in the 19th century.'
3. \Transport of Chronometers. — This means of determiiiing longi-
tude Was first tried in cases where the chronometers could be brought
the whole way by sea, but the improved means of communication
on land led to its adoption in 1828 between the observatories at
Greenwich and Cambndge, and in the follomng years between
many other observatories. A few of the more extensive expedi-
tions undertaken for this object deserve to be mentioned. In 1843
more than sixty chronometers were sent sixteen times backwards
and fonrards between Altona and Pulkowa, and in 1844 forty
chronometers were sent the same number cf times between Altona
and Greenwich.'' In 1844 the longitude of Valcntia on the south-
west coast of Ireland was determined by transporting thirty pocket
chronometers via Liverpool and Kingstown and having an inter-
mediate station at the latter place. The longitude of the United
States naval observatory has been frequently determined from
Greenwich. The following results will give an idea of the accuracy
of the method.'
. ' Foriistance, GrMDWich and Paris in 1825 (Phil Truns.. 182fi>. Thn result.
6=>21s-6, is ooty about 0*'6 too great.
* As a great many of the chronoraeters used in 1S44 were made by DsDtaod
were of superior excellence, a smaller number was considered sufficient.
a Gould. TmnKitlaiaU: Lo-naitxidt^ p. ^Wasbingtcn. 1869.
PrevTons to 1849, SIS chronoinclert ";; . .... . . .rrT.S'" 8» 12"-52
Expedition of 1S49, Bond's discussion ll*-20
„ ,„ Walker's ,, 12"-0«
„ ' ,, Bond's second result 12»*26±0«*20
„ 1855, 52 chronometers, 6 trips, Bond . . 13'-49±0'19 •
The value now accepted from the telegraphic determination it
5h gm 123-09. The probable ,errors of the results for Pulkowa.
Altona and Altona-Greenwich were supposed to'be ±0'039 an!
±0=042. It is of course only natural that the uncertainty of tho
results for the trans-Atlantic longitude should be much greater,'
considering the length of time which elapsed between the rating
of the chronometers at the observatories of Boston (Cambridge,
Massachusetts) and- Liverpool. The difficulty of the method con-
sists in determining the :* travelling rate." ■ Zach time a chrono-
meter leaves the station A and returns to it the error is determined,
and consequently the rate for the time occupied by the journeys
from A to B and from B \o A and by the sojourn at B. Similarly
a rate is found by each departure from arid return to .B, and the
time of rest at A and B is also utilized for determining the station,
ary rate. In this way a series of rates for overlapping intervals of
time are found, from which the travelling rates may be interpolated.
It is owing to the, uncertainty which necessarily attaches to the
rate of a chronometer during long journeys, especially by land,
where they are exposed to shaking and more or less violent motion,
that it is desirable to employ a great number. It is scarcely neces-
sary to mention that the temperature correction for each chrono-
meter must be carefully investigated, and the local time rigorously
determined at each station during the entire period of the operations.!
4. Tckgrajihic Determination o/ Lonfftlitdc. — This was first sug-
gested by the American astronomer S. C. Walker, and owed its de-
velopment to the United States Coast Survey, where it was employed
from about 1849. Nearly all the more important public observa-
tories on the continent of Europe have now been connected in this
way, chiefly at the instigation of the "Europaische Gradmessung,",
while the determinations in connexion with the transits of Venus
and those carried out in recent years by the American and French
Governments have completed the circuit of the greater part of
the globe. The telegrapnic method compares the local time at one
station with that at the other by sieans of electric signals. If a
signal is sent from tlie eastern station A at the local time T, and
received at the western station £ at the local time T^, tben, if the
time taken by the current to pass through the wire is called x,
the difference of longitude is
\ = T-Ti + x,
and similarly, if a signal is sent from B at the time T, and Teceived
at >4 at Tj, we have XsTj-Tj-x,
from which the unknown quantity x can he eliminated. ^
The operations of a telegraphic longitude detenr'-ation .can be
arranged in two ways. Either the local time is determined at both
stations and the clocks are compared by telegraph, or the time
determinations are marked simultaneously on the two chronographs
at the two stations, so that further signals for clock comparison
are unnecessaiy. The first method has to be used when the tele-
graph is only for a limited time each night at the disposal of the
observers, or when the climatic conditions at the two stations are
so different that 'clear weather cannot often be expected to occur at
both simultaneously, also when the difference of longitude is so
considerable that too much time would be lost at the eastern station
waiting for the arrival of the transit record of one star from the
western station before observing another star. The independent
time determination also offers the advantage that the observations
may be taken either by eye and ear or by the chronograph, and
that the signals may be either audible beats of a relay or chrono-
graphic signals, the rule bcin^ to have observations and signals
made by similar operations. 'The best way of using audible beats
of a relay is to let the circuit pass through an auxiliary clock,
which from second to second alternately makes and breaks the
current, the making of the current being rendered audible by the
tapping of the relays at both stations. If, now, the auxiliary and
the observing clocks are regulated to a different rate, the coinci-
dences of the beats of the relay with those of the observing clock
can be noted with great accuracy, fi cm which the difference between
the two observing clocks is found. It has been proved by exprience
that the degree of accuracy with which the clock comparison can
be made by one coincidence is exactly equal to that of one chrono-
fraph signal, the probable error being in both cases about ±0'015.'
t, should, however, be mentioned that the interval between two
consecutive coincidences cannot be made less than two minutes,
whereas the chronograph signals may be given every second, and,
as the observations made with the chronograph are also somewhat
more accurate than those made by^^^-e and ear, the chronograph
should be used wherever possible.'" • The other method, that of
simaltaneous registration at both 'stations of transits of the same
stars, has also its advantages. Each tra'nsit observed at both
stations furnishes a value of the difference of longitude, so that
the final result is less dependent on the clock rate than in the
fiirst method, which necessitatei,the combination of a series of oiock
396
T T M — T I M
«rror3 determined during the iiiglit to" fomi a value of the dock
error for the time when the exchange of signals took place. AVIien
using this method it is advisable to select the stars in euch a
manner that only one station at a time is at work, so that the
intensity of the current can be readjusted (by means of a rheostat)
between every despatch and receipt of signals. This attention to
the intensity of the current is necessary whatever method is em-
ployed, as the constancy of the transmission time {x in the above
equations) chieQy depends on the constancy of the current. The
probablfi error of a difl'eren''e of longitude deduced from one star
appears to be '
for eye and ear transits iC^'OS,
for chronograph transits ±0s-07 ;
Trhile the probable error of the final result of a carefully platmei
and well executed scries of tclegra]ihiclongitude operations is geilert
ally between ±0^015 and ±0^'025.
It is evident that the success of a determination of longitude de-
pends to a very great extent on the accurate determination of time
ot the two stations, and great caic must therefore be taken to de-
termine the instrumental errors repeatedly during a night's v-ork.
But. in addition to the uncertainty which enters into the results
from the ordinary errors of observation, there is another source of
error "hich becomes of special importance in longitude work, viz.,
the so-called personal ciior. Tlie discovery of the fact that all
observers differ more or less in their estimation of the time when
a star crosses one of tiic spider lines in the transit instrument was
made bj- Bessel in 1820- ; and, as he happened to differ fully a
second of time from several other observers, this remarkably largo
error naturally causeil the phenomenon to be carefully examined.
Bessel also suggested what appears to be the right explanation, viz.,
the co-operation of two senses in observing transits by eye and car,
the ear having to count the beats of tlio clock \vhile the eye com-
pares the distance of the star from the spider line at the last beat
before the transit with the distance at the first boat after it, thus
estimating the fraction of second at which the ti-ansit took place.
It can easily be conceived that one pcr'%on may first licar and then
see, while to another these sensations take place in the reverse order ;
and to this possible source of error may be addctl tlie sensible time
required by the transmission of sensations through the nerves to the
brain and for the latter to act upon them. As tlie chronographic
method of observing dispenses with one sense (that of hearing) and
merely requires the watching of the stir's motion and'the pressing
of an electric key at the moment when the star is bisecteu by the
thread, tlie personal errors should in this case be much smaller than
■when the eye and ear mctliod is employed. And it is a fact that
in the former method there have never occurred errors of between
half and a whole second such as have not luifrequeutly appeared
in the latter method. ^
In astronomical observations j*cnerally this personal error does
not cause any inconvenience, so long as only one observer is cm-
ployed at a time, and unless the amount of the error varies witii
the declination or the magnitude of tlie star ; but when absolute
time has to bo determined, as in longiturle work, the full amount
of the personal equation between tlie two observers must be care-
fully ascertamed and taken into account And an observer's error
has often been found to vary very considerably not only from year
to ytfar but even within much shorter intervals ; the use of a new
instrument, though perhaps not differing in construction from the
accustomed one, has also oeen known to affect the personal error.
For a number of years this latter circumstance was coupled with
another which seemed perfectly incomprclicnsiblc, the personal error
appearing to vary with the reversal of^thc instrument, that is, with
the position of the illuminating lamp cast or west. But in 1869-70
Hirsch noticed during the longitude operations in Switzerland that
this was caused by a sliifting of the reflector insid^e tlie telescope, by
means of which the field is illuminated, which produced an apparent
shifting of the image of the spider lines, unless the eye-piece was
very accurately focused for the observer's sight The simplest and
best way to find the equation between two observers is to let one
observe the transits of stars over half the wires in the telescope,
and the other observe the transits over the remainder, each taking
care to refocus the eye-piece for himself in order to avoid the above-
mentioned source of error. The single transits reduced to the middle
wire give immediately the equation ; and, in order to ehminate
errors in the assumed wire-intervals, each observer uses alternately
the first and the second half of the wires. Another method is in
vogue at Greenwich, where each observer with the transit circle
from a series of stars determines the clock error and reduces this
to a common epoch (0^ sid. time) by means of a clock rate found
indepeudontly of personal error. The differences between the clock
* Albrecht, Bestimmung von Ldngendiffcremen wit Iliilfe rf«s elee-
tfiacken Tdegraphen, p. 80, Leipsic, 1869, 4to.
' Maskelyne bnd in 1795 noticed that anfrof bis assistants observed
transits more than half a second' later than himself, but this was sup>
posed to arise from eoioe wrong method of observing adopted by the
#i8L3tant, and the matter was not further looked into.
errors thus found are equal to the pei-sonal equations. This method
cannot, however, be recommended, as the systematic errors in the
right ascensions of the stars and any slight variation of the clock
rate would affect the personal equation ; the fii-st method is there-
fore generally used in longitude work. It is 'advisable to let the
observers compare themselves at the beginning, middle, and end
of the operations and, if possible, at both the instruments emploj^ed.
A useful check on the results is afforded by simultaneous exi»eri»
mcnts with one of the instvuments contrived by C. Wolf, Kaiser,
and others (sometimes called "time collimators"), by wliich the
absolute personal error of an observer can be determined. Tliough
dilTeruig mu(;h in detiil, these instruments arc all consfenicted on
the same principle: an artificial star (a lamp shining through a
minute hole in a screen mounted on a small carnage moved by
clockwork) passes in succession across a number of lines drawn on
oiled paper, while an electric contact is made at the precise moment
wlicn tite star is bisected on each line by the carriage passing a
number of adjustable contact makers. The currents thus made
register the transits automatically on a chronograph, while the
observer, viewing the apparatus througKhis telescope, can observe
the transits in the usual manner either uy eye and ear or by chrono-
graph, thus immediately finding his personal errors On the Conti-
nent tliese contrivances have frequently been used to educate pupils
learning to observe, and experience has repeatedly shown that a
considerable personal error can bo generally somewhat diminished
through practice.
Z.i(er/i(!(r£;.— General treatise.*! on srlierical astmnoiny. eucIi as Briinnow'a
Ixhrbuchder sjihorischrn Astrovnviiei'Med.. BiTlm, 1871 , tcinslate<l into E^gli^ll
anil several nllici- languages) ami Cliauvencfs M<tn\iaL, trtal very fully of tlie
numerous nwthwls of 'Ifteninuinfilinie liy ooinliination nfaltitufles or azimuths
of several stars. The best handUtok of ttIeRi'ai)hic longitude wnrk is Albreclit'a
already nn-ntioncd ; but any one eng.i{ring In practical w hIc of tins kind should
consult the accounta of the numerous longitude determinations carried nut
during recent years, particularly the I^iblicatiomn des kon. prexissiicheu
fjrniluusrheri liisttluts ; Telegraphic Drtenuintilion of Differences 0/ Longiluclc f»/
Officers t>/ the Vniled Stntfs I^'uvy (Washington, ISSO) . Tdrgr. Delenn. 0/ LongU
li-tUs in Mejico, Centra} Aiwncn, ami ou tlif Wrst Lwisl t^f South America (Wash-
ington, ISSJ): the lte]if<rts of the United Sta**s Cuast and Geodetic Survey;
vol. IX. of the Acrount oj the Great Trigonovutrical Survey 0/ India ; and" vol. iii,
of Dun Echt observat^iry Publtintiniis. A discussion of all the investigations
on i<ci50ual ermi-s up to 1ST'> was pablislied by Ureyer in Proc. R. Irish. A'Cid.,
2d series, vol. ii., 187G, pp. -164-028. (J. L. E. D.)
TIMOLEON. The life of Timoleon, one of the noblest
and most interesting of the men of old Greece, is clo.sely
bound up with the "history of Sicily (^.v.), and more par-
ticularly of Syracuse (q.v.), in the latter half of the 4th
century B.C. It is as the champion of Greece against
Carthage, and of constitutional government against violence
and oppression, that be stands out as such a grand figure.
His ^early career in his native Corinth was shaped by a
tragic incident. Timoleon had saved the life of his brother,
Timophanes, on the field of battle j but, when that same
brother, at the head of a band of mercenary soldiers, took
possession of the acroix)lis and made himself practically a
military despot and master of the city, Timoleon, after an
ineffectual protest, let him be struck down by. his brother-
in-law and onft or two other friends who had joined in his
remonstrance. By the public opinion of Corinth generally
his conduct was approved as patriotic ; but the cui-ses of his
mother and the cold looks of some of his kinsfolk and
acquaintances drove him from' the city into the solitude
of the fields, and there, it would seem, for some years he
pined away, hating life and even ^)ent on ending it by
voluntary starvation. He must ha/ie reached middle life
when, in 344 B.C., envoys came froini Syracuse to Corinth
to appeal to the mother-city for relief from the intestine
feuds and foreign mercenaries tinder which the Syracusans,
and all the Greeks of Sicily, suffered. Carthage too,
their old and bitter foe, after soime years of quiet, was
again bestirring herself and intriguing with the local des-
pots. Corinth could not refuse her help, though her chief
citizens declined the responsibility of attempting to estab-
lish a settled government in the factious and turbulent
Syracuse. By a sort of Divine inspiration, says Plutarch
(Tim.y 3), Timoleon,' being named by an unknown voice in
the popular assembly, was chosen by a unanimous vote to
undertake the mission. He sailed for Sicily with a feW
of the leading citizens of Corinth and a small troop of Greek
mercenaries. On arriving at Rhegium he found that hia
movements were watched by a Carthaginian squadron, act-
ing under th«! advice of a Syracusan. Hicet^as, who had
T I M — T I M
397
made himself master of Leontini and aimea at supplanting
with Carthaginian aid the younger Dionysius, still nomin-
ally tyrant of Syracuse, but actually in possession only of
the island citadel Hicetas, whilst seeming to favour
Corinthian intervention, was really working with Carthage
on behalf of the tyrants. Timoleon, however, slipped away
from the Carthaginian watch and landed at'Tauromenium
(Taormina), where he had a very friendly reception. At
Adranumi, an inland town, to which he came by invitation
from a party among the citizens, he surprised Hicetas, and
drove bim back, with his troops utterly defeated; to Syra-
cuse. The Sicilian Greeks, now rallied round him, and the
ftllovring year (343) saw the surrender of Dionysius and
TimoleoQ master of the entire city. Hailed by the citizens
13 a heaven-sent deliverer, he at once began the work of
restoration, bringing in. a multitude of new settlers from,
the mother-city and from Greece generally, and establishing
a popular government on the basis of the laws of Diocles, ,
■which had been forgotten under the Dionyaian regime.
The impress of Timoleon's reforms Seems to have lasted to
the days of Augustus. The tyrants, too, in the other Sici-
lian cities were put down, and his old enemy Hicetas went
back to Leontini, where he lived as a private though power-
ful citizen. He made one more attempt to overthrow
Timoleon, and induced Carthage to send (3iO-339) a great
army, wluch landed at Lilybaenm (Marsala). The Syra-
cusans could hardly be brought to face the invader ; but
with a miscellaneous levy of about 12,000 men, ihost of
them mercenaries, Timoleon marched westwards across the
island into the neighbourhood of SeUnus and won a great
and decisive victory on the Crimisus. The Carthaginian
host is said to have outnumbered Timoleon's army in the
proportion of seven to one. The general himself led on his
infantry in person (Plut, Tim., 27), and their enemy's dis-
comfiture was completed by a blinding storm of rain and
hail driven straight in their faces (Diod., xvi. 79). This
victory gave the Greeks of Sicily many years of peace and
safety from Carthage. Carthage made, however, one more
effort and despatched some mercenaries to prolong the con-
flict between Timoleon and the tyrants. ' But it soon ended
(338 B.C.) in the defeat of Hicetaa, who was taken prisoner
and put to death, and in a treaty which confined the
dominion of Carthage in SicUy to the west of the Halycus
(Platani). Timoleon, having put down the despots and
given freedom to the Greek cities of SicOy, retired into
private life, though he remained practically supreme not
only at Syracuse but throughout Sicily. This island, not^
withstanding the many elements of discord which political
revolution, with the return of exiles and the influx of new
settlers, must have brought in, seems to have been during
Timoleon's Uf etime tranquil and contented. There are some
characteristic stories told of his last days. Although blind,
he used to come in his car into the assembly in the theatre
and give his opinion, which was commonly accepted by a
unanimous vote. An officious person once insisted on his
giving the ordinary bail in a lawsuit ; but he replied that
he had himself always been the consistent champion of law
and of legal rights for them alL Again, when his military
strategy was unfavourably criticized, he expressed his grati-
tude to heaven that he had won for the Syracusans the
privilege of liberty of speecL He died in 337, and was
buried at the cost of the citizens of Syracuse, who erected
a grand monument to his memory in their market-place.
Plntarch's Life of TimoUcn and portions of Diodoma Sicnlus are
OUT chief sources of original information. There ia an admirable
and most interesting account of his life and work in chap, Ixxxv.
of Grote's HiMory of Greece.
TIM ON of Athens, a- noted- misantlirope, lived during
the Peloponnesian War. He is more than once alluded to
by Aristophaneg,and other comedians of the Attic stage.
Pltttarch takes occasion to introduce a short account of his
life in the biography of Mark Anteny (ch. 70), and he
gives his name to one of Lucian's dialogues. • Shakespeare
probably derived his knowledge of Timon mainly from
Plutarch ; but the Tiinon of Shakespeare resembles the
Timon of Lucian in so many points that some critics think
Shakespeare (or whoever wrote the first sketch of the play)
must have had access to the dialogue in question.
TIMON of Phlius, the well-known siUograph and scep-
tic philosopher, flourished about 280 B.C. He studied
philosophy under Stilpo the Megarian and Pyrrho of Elis,
the famous sceptic. Thereafter he spent some time in
Chalcedon, where he made a fortune by teaching and lec-
turing. The rest of his life was passed chiefly at Athens,
where he died at an advanced age. - .
The writings of Timon, if we may trtist Diogenes Laertios (ix.
ch. 12), were exceedingly numerous both in' prose and in verse :
besides the SfXXot, he is asserted to have written epic poems,
tragedies, comedies, satyric dramas, and other varieties. But he
is best £nown as the author of the ZIXXm or sarcastic hexameter
verses written against the Greek philosophers. They were divided
into three books ; in the first the author spoke in his own person,
while in the second and third Xenophanes of Colophon replied to
inquiries addressed to him by Timon about early and late philo-
sophers. From the fragments that remain (about 140 lines or
parts of lines, -printed in Mullach, Frag. Phil.Grsec., L pp. 84-98)
we see that Timon possessed some of the qualities of a great
satirist together with a thorough command of the hexameter ; but
there is no trace of any loftier aim than to awaken derisive laughter,'
Philosophers are "excessively cunning murderers of many wise
saws " (ver. 96) ; the onlv two whom he spares are Xenophanes,
"the modest censor of llomer's lies" {v. 29), and Pyrrho, agains'
whom "no other mortal dare contend" (v. 126). Besides the
2iXX« we have some lines preserved from the .'IvSoX/m)/, a poem in
elegiac verse, which appears to have inculcated the tenets of scepti-
cism, and one or two lines or parts of lines-which' cannot be with,
certainty assigned to either poem. •'
TIMOR, an island of the East Indian Archipelago, the
easternmost and largest of the lesser Sundanese group,
stretching south-west and north-east for 300 miles between
8° 40' and 10° 40' S. lat. and 123° 30' and. 127° E. long.
It has a meanbreadth of 60 miles, an area of over 11,000
square miles, and a population, roughly estimated at
about 500,000. Timor lies in deep water a little to the
west of the hundred fathom line, which marks in this,
direction the proper limit of the shallow Arafura Sea,
flowing between . it and northern. Australia. It differs
considerably from the other members of the Sundanese
group both in the lie of its main axis (south-west and
north-east instead of west and east), and ia the great pre-
valence of old rocks, such as schists, slates, sandstones,
carboniferoHS limestones, and other more recent sediment-
ary formation^ and in its correspondingly slighter volcanic
character. Ifc comes, however, within the great volcanic
zone which sweeps in a vast curve from the northern
extremity of Sumatra, through Java and the other Sundan-
ese islands, round to Amboioa, Tidor, Temate, Jilolo, and
the Philippines.- There appear to be at least two quiescent
and other extinct cones, and the surface is everywhere ex-
tremely rugged and mountainous, with numerous irregular
ridges from 4000 to 8000 feet high, forming altogether a
very confused orographic system. Mount Kabalaki in the
eastern district of Manufahi rises above 10,000 feet (H. O.
Forbes) ; the culminating point appears to be Mount Alias
(11,500 feet) near the south coast. Owing to the preva-
lent dry easterly winds from the sirid plains of North
Australia, Timor, like Ombay, Flores, and other neigh-
bouring islands, has a much drier climate, with a .corre-
spondingly poorer vegetation, than Java, smd has few
perennial streams and no considerable rivers. Hence,
apart from almost untouched and unsurveyed stores of
mineral wealth, such as iron, copper, and gold, which occur
apparently in considerable quantities' at several points, the
island is poor in natural resources. The uplands, hpweijer.
398
T I M — T I M
yield good wheat and potatoes, -while the woodlaiKlt. whielr
nowhere form veritable -forests, contain murfh ejcceDent
sandalwood. This and a noted treed of hardy ponies
form the chief articles of export. Owing doubtless to the
zone of deep water flowing between Timor aijd the Arafura
Sea, the fauna of Timoi' presents, beyond a marsupial
cuscus, scarcely any Australian types. The few mammals,
such as a deer, a civet, a pig, a shrew, and monkeys, as
well as the birds and insects, resemble ordinary Malayan
forms aj met with in Java and more especially in Celebes
and thfl'-'iloluccas. In its natural history, as well as its
physical constitution and oceanic surroundings, Timor.is
thus entii:ely separated from Australia and should perhaf s
be grouped-with Celebes, Burn, Ceram, and Jilolo as the
surviving fragments of a Miocene continent intervening
between Asia and Australia, but at no time connected
with either.
The bulk of the population is certainly Papuan, but inter-
mingled in the most varied proportions with Malayan, Indonesian,
and othf^r elements ; hence it presents an extraordinary diversity
of physical types, as is clearly shown by tlie portraits figured in
H. 0. Forbes's NaturalisCs tf^andcrings in the Ecistcrn Archipelago.
The natives, still mainly independent of their nominal Dutch and
Portuguese rulers, are divided into a large number of more or less
hostile tribes, spealiing as many as forty distinct Papuan and
Malayan lanmrages or dialects. Some arc extremely rude and still
addicted to ncad-hunting, at least during war, and to other bar-
barous practices. In their xivia-luli^ or sacred (tabooed) enclosures,
rites are performed resembling those of tho Pacific islanders.
Politically Timor is divided between Holland and Portugal, the
Dutch claiming the western section of 4500 square miles and 200,000
inhabitants, the Portuguese the eastern of nearly 6500 square miles
and 300,000 inhabitants ; the respective capitals, centres of govern-
ment, and outports are Kupang at the western extremity and
Deli on the north-east coast. But there are a large number of
practically independent petty states, as many as forty-seven in the
Portuguese territory alone, where they take the name of " renos,"
or kingdoms, under absolute "leoreis" or kinglets. The I3utch
section forms with Sumba, Savu, Rotti, and the surrounding islets
a residency administered by a Dutch resident stationed at Kupang,
which has a population of 8000.
TIMOR LAUT ("Seaward Timor"), caUed also Ten-
IMBER, an insular group in the East Indian Archipelago,
forming the central and largest link in a double chain of
islands which stretches from Timor through Kci and Aru to
New Guinea. It lies nearly midway between Timor and
Aru, and forms, not one continuous mass, as used to be
supposed, but a group of three large islands, — Yamdena
in the centre, separated by Wallace Channel from Larat
in the north and by Egeron Strait from Selaru in the-
south, besides a cluster or chain of islets on the west and
north sides. From one of these the name Tenimber
appears to have been extended to the whole group, which
stretches for about 100 miles south-west and north-east,
nearly parallel with Timor, from which, however, it differs
altogether in its physical constitution. H. O. Forbes, who
surveyed Wallace Channel and the northern districts in
1882, describes it as a low coralline group seldom rising
above 100 feet, except at Egeron Strait, where the cliffs
are 400 feet high, and at Laibobar, apparently a volcanic
islet on the west side, which has an extinct crater 2000
feet high. There are no streams, and the poor soil,
covered with a typically coral island flora, yields little
beyond maize — the staple food — manioc, sweet potatoes,
tobacco, some sugar-cane, cotton, and a little rice. The
fauna includes buffaloes in a wild state, a marsupial cuscus,
some bats, the beautiful scarlet lory, new or rare varieties
of the ground-thrush, honey-eater, and oriole. The birds
seem to have come mainly from New Guinea, the insects
from Timor, and a few of both from Australia.
The aborigines are evidently Papuans, with a language like that
of the Kei Islanders ; but there is a largo intermingling of Malayan
and perhaps Indonesian elements. ^ They are a fine race, often
over d feet, and, like all Papuans, noted for their artistic sense,
which is shown especially in their wood and ivory carvings. In
other respects they are pagans in a low state of culture, mostly
diviiej iBto hostile 'costm\initie3 and addicted to piracy. The
groupbelonK* to the Dutch, 'isho have a " poat-holder " stationed
at Rit#bej on the' weat coast of L&fKt, a trading station of the
Bughia from Celebes.
TIMOTHEUS, a distinguished Athenian general, was
a son of Conon, who restored the walls of Athens. To the
military quaUties of *hi3 father he added a love of letters,
which found scope in his friendship with Isocrates. The
considerable fortune which he inherited from his father
seems to have been exhausted by him in the public service.
In 375 B.C. the Athenians, then at war with Sparta, sent
Timotheus with a fleet to the Ionian Sea, where he gained
over Cephalonia and secured the friendship of the Acar-
nanians and of Alcetas, king of the Molossians. He also
made himself master of Corcyra, but used his victory with
a moderation which won the goodwill of the conquered
At the same time he defeated a Spartan fleet at Alyzia on
the Acarnanian coast. In 373 he was appointed to the
command of a fleet destined for the relief of Corcyra, then
beleaguered by the Spartans. But his ships were not fuUy
manned, and to recruit their strength he first cruised in
the iEgean. The delay excited the indignation of the
Athenians, who brought him to trial ; but, thanks to the
exertions of his friends, Jason, tyrant of Pherae, and Al-
cetas, king of the Molossians, both of whom came to Athens
personally to plead his cause, he was acquitted, but removed
from the command, Iphicrates being appointed in his room.
Being reduced to great poverty — for he had pledged his
private property in order to put the fleet in an efficient
state — he left Athens and took service with the king of
Persia. We next hear of him in 367 or 366, when he
was sent by the Athenians with an armament to support
Ariobarzanes, satrap of Phrygia. But, finding that the
satrap was in open revolt against Persia, Timotheus ab-
stained from helping him and turned his arms against
Samos, which was occupied by a Persian garrison. He
took it after a ten montfe' siege (3'65 B.C.). Sailing
north, he then captured Sestus, Crithote, Torone, Potidaea,
Methone, Pydna, and many more cities. In 358 or 357,
when Euboea was in danger of falling into the hands of
Thebes, the Athenians, in response to a spirited appeal of
Timotheus, crossed over into the island and expelled the
Thebans in three days. In the course of the Social War,
which broke out shortly afterwards, Timotheus was de-
spatched with Iphicrates, Menestheus, son of Iphicrates,
and Chares to put down the revolt. The hostile fleets
sighted each other in the Hellespont ; but a gale was blow-
ing, and Iphicrates and Timotheus decided not to engage.
Chares, disregarding their opposition, lost many ships, and
in his despatches he incriminated his colleagues so bitterly
that the Atlftnians recalled them and put them on their
trial for having taken bribes from the enemy to betray the
fleet. The accusers were Chares and Aristophon. The
former was an officer of notoriously bad character ; the
latter had himself stood in the dock no less than seventy-
five times. Iphicrates was not above browbeating the
jury, who accordingly acquitted him and his son. Timo-
theus, who condescended to no such means of securing an
acquittal, was condemned to pay a very heavy fine. Being
unable to pay, he withdrew to Chalcis. The time and
place of his death are not mentioned by ancient writers.
The Athenians afterwards did what, they could to repair
the wrong they had done to Timotheus by remitting the
greater paft of the fine to his son Conon, by burying his
remains in the Ceramicus, and by raising statues to his
memory in the agora and the acPopolis.
Our msteriils for the Ufe of Timotheus arc very imperfect, and
the chronology is in some points uncertain. The chief authorities
are Isocrates, Or., xv. ; Xenophon, EcUenica, v. and vi. ; Diodorus,
XV. and xvi. ; Cornelius Nepos, Vit. Tinu ; and Polyeenus, Slrai.,
iii. 10. Other scraps are to be gleaned from the orators, Plutarch,
ic. The speech Againtt Timolhcu) which has come down to Ul
T I M — T I M
399
Dsder the name of Deinoethene» is probably Dot by the orator. It
is chiefly interesting as iUtistrating the straits to wliicli Timotheus
was reduced by his sacrihces in the pubbc cause.
TIMOTHEUS, a celebrated Greek musician and poet,
was a native of Miletus, and died, according to the Parian
marble, in 357 or 35C B.C., at the age of ninety. He
added one or more strings (the cumber is uncertain) to
the lyre, whereby he incurred the displeasure of the con-
servative Spartans. The few fragments of his poems are
collected by Bergk in his Poftx Lyrici Grxci.
TIMOTm', or XiMOTHEUS (Acts svi. 1, xvii. 14, ic), a
Lycaooian, the son of a Gentile father but of a Jewish
mother, Eunice (2 Tim. i. 5), became a disciple of Piul
at the time of his visit to Derbe and Lystra, and in deference
to Jewish feeling was circumcised. He accompanied the
apostle on many of his journeys, and was employed by him
on important missions (1 Thess. iii. 2 ; 1 Cor. iv. 17, svi.
10). His name is associated with that of Paul in the
opening salutations of both epistles to the Thessaloniaas,
the second epistle to the Corinthians, and those- to the
Ph&ippians and Colossians. He was therefore with Paul
at ilome. At a later date he is mentioned in Heb. iiii.
23 &3 having undergone imprisonment but been released.
For the epistles of Paul to Timothy, see Pastoral Epistles
(vol. xviiL p. 348). On the basis of them he is tradition-
ally represented as bishop of Ephesus, and tradition also
tell* that he suffered under Domitian. His martyrdom
is -celebrated on 24lh January.' The apocryphal Acta
Timothei (Greek and Latin) have been edited by Usener
(Bonn, 1877) ; compare Lipsiua, Apokr. AposUlgeschichieTL,
a. 2 (1884).
TIMUR. TiMtSE Bey or Timttk "Laug {Timur i Leng),
"the lane Timur " — vulgarized into Tamekl-ajte — the
r«iown&d Oriental conqueror, was bom in 133G at Kesh,
better known as Shahr-i-Sabz, " the green city," situated
some 50 miles south of Samarkand in Transoxiana. His
father Teragai was head of the tribe of Berlas. Great-
grandson of Karachar Nevian (minister of Jagatai, son of
Jenghiz Khan, and commander-in-chief of his forces), and
distinguished among his fellow<lansmen as the first con-
vert to Islamism, Teragai might have assumed the high
military rank which fell to him by right of inheritance ;
but Like his father Buxkul he preferred a life of retirement
and study. Under the paternal eye the education of
young Timiir was such that at the age of twenty he had
not only become an adept in manly outdoor exercises
but had earned the reputation of being an attentive
reader of the Koran. At this period, if we may credit
the Memoirs {Malfiiziit), he exhibited proofs of a tender
and sympathetic nature.
About 1358, however, he came before the world as a
leader of armies. His career for the next tea or eleven
years may be thus briefly summarized from the Memoirs.
Allying himself both in cause and by family coimexion
v.'ith Kurgan, the dethroner and destroyer of Kezao, chief
of the Jagatai, he was deputed to invade Khorasan at the
head of a thousand horse. This was the second warlike
expedition in which he was the chief actor, and tho accom-
plishment of its objects led to further operations, among
them the subjection of Khwarizm and Urganj. Alter the
murder of Kurgan the contentions which arose among the
many claimants to sovereign power wsre arrested by the
invasion of Tughlak Tiraiir of Kasbgar, a descendant
of Jenghiz. Timur was despatched on a mission to the
invader's camp, the result of which was his own appoint-
ment to the government of ilawari'lnahr (Transoxiana).
By the death of his father he was also left hereditary head
of tho Berlas. The exigencies Of his quasi -sovereign
position compelled him to have recourse to his formidable
patron, whose reappearance on the banks of the Sihon
created a constematSbn net c^y allay ea. MAwari'lnahr
was taken from Timiir and eutrusted to a son of Tughlat;
but he was defeated in battle by the bold warrior he had
replaced at the head of a oumerically far inferior force.
Tughlak's death facilitated the work of reconquest iind
a few years of perseverance, and energy sufEced for ita
accomplishment, as well a? for the addition of a vast
extent of territory. During tkis period Timiir and his
brother-iu-law, Hosain — at l:rst fellow-fugitives and wan-
derers in joint adventures full of interest and romance-^
became rivals and antagonists. At the close of 1369
Hosain wa.s assassinated and Timiir, having been formally
pr.xlaiiicd sovereign at Balkh, mounted the throne at
Samarkand, the capital of lus dominions.
The next thirty years or so were spent in various wars
and expeditions. He not only consolidated his rale at
home by the subjection of intestine foes, but sought
extension of territory by encroachmentj upon the lands of
contemporary potentates. His couque-sta to the west and
north-west led him among the Mongols of the Caspian,
and to the banks of the Ural and the Volga ; those to the
south and south-west comprehended, almost every pro-
vince in Persia, including Bajjhdad, Kerbela, and Ktirdistan
To this time belong the ves'iges of his presence that stiU
remain, such as the ruined monastery at Keghut near the
Aras (Araxes), the cleft stoi.e in the church at Dayira '1
"Omar (M'ar Jibr4il) near Iklanlin, and the ruinless sites
of such ancient cities as Zai inj in Sistan. In 1398, when
Timiir was more than sixty years of age, Farishta tells na
that, " informed' of the commotions and civil w&rs of
India," he " began his exjK:dition into that country," and
on 12th September "arriveil oa the banks of the Iidus."
His passage of the river and upward inarch along the
left bank, tho reinforcement ha provided for Ids grandson
Pir Mohammed (who was invested in Multin), the capture
of towns or villages accompanied, it might be, with de-
struction of the houses and th3 massacre of the inhabitants
the battle before Delhi and the easy victory, the trivjnphal
er.try into the doomed city, vrilh its outcome of horrors, —
all these circumstances belong to tho annals of India. In
April 1399, some three mouths after quitting the capital
of Mahmijd Tughla^ Timur was back in his own capital
beyond the Oxus. It need scarcely be added that an im-
mense quantity of spoil was conveyed away. According
to Clavijo, ninety cap^'ored tilephants were employed merely
to carry stones from certain (jiuarries to enable the conqueror
to erect a mosque at Samarkand. The war with the Turks
which succeeded the return from India was rendered notable
by the capture of Baghdail, Aleppo, and Damascus, and
especially by the defeat and imprisonment of Sultan
Bayazid. This was Timti/.i last campaign. Another wa»
projected against China, b-it the old warrior was attacked
by fever and ague when enoimped on the furtl er side of
the Sihon (Syr-Daria) and died at Atrir (Otrar) on the
17th February 1405. Markham, in his introduction to
the narrative of Clavijo's embassy, states that his body
"was embalmed with miL^k and rose water, wi-apped it)
linen, laid in an ebony coffia, and sent to Samarkand, wher«
it was buried." Timur had carried his victorious arms on
one sido from the Irtish and the Volga to tho y-jrsian Gulf
and on the other from tho Hellespont to the Ganges.
Timur's generally r?cognL:t-d blocrupxiers a/i'-**'A)j Yi^d*,
commonly called Shan.'u 'd-Diu, author of the y.^rs-an Zi/air-
ruima, tionslafcd by Pt.is de la Croix in 1722, and frc.m F.-«nrih
into English by J. Daioy io tho foil owingy tor ; asd ihmcd iSta
Jlohanuned ibn Abdallah, al Dimashki, al "Ajmi, commonly cali;;!
Ibn 'Arabshih, author of the Axabi: 'Ajaibi^'l Mo:^hlnJ:dl, h^as-
lated by the Dutch Orientalist Golkus in 1636.' In tho wcrk of
the former, as Sir "WilUam Jones remarks, "the Tartarian conqueror
is represented as a liberal, benevolent, and illustrious prince " ; in
that of the latter he is "deformed and impious,* of a low birth and
detestable principlef." But the faTOOiable accoost was written;
400
T I N-^T I N
azider the pefbonal supervision of Timiir's grandson, Ibrahim, whUe
the other was the production of his diiest enemy. Few indeed, ii,
any, original annals of this class are written otherwise than to
oifler, under patronage, or to serTe a purpose to which truth ia
secondary. Amoug'kss reputed biographies or materials for bio-
graphy may bo mentioned a secoud Za/amdma, by Maulani
Nizimu 'd-Din Shanab Ghazdni (Nizam Shami), stated to be " the
earliest known history of Timur, and the only one Arritten in hia
Kfctime" ; and voL i. of the Malta' u's-Sa'dain — a choice Persian
MS. work of 1495— introduced to Orientalists in Europe by Ham-
mer, Jahrbucher, Dorh, aud (notably) Quatremere. There are also
the Memoirs {Mal/uM) and IiislituU-i (Tuzukdt), of which an
important section is styled Designs and Enterprise ( TaJbinil wa
Kangdshalui). Upon the genuineness of these doubt has beep
thrown. The circumst^iace of their alleged discOTsry and presenta-
tion to Shah Jahan in 1637 was of itself open to suspicion.
Alhazen, (luoted by Purchns in his quaint notice of Timiir, and
referred to by Sir John Malcolm, can nardly be accepted as a seri-
ous authority. His assumed memoir was printed for English readers
in 1597 by William Ponsonby under the title of a Hislarie of the
Great Emperor Tamerlan, drawn from the ancierU. monutncnts by
Messire Jean du Bee, Abbot of Mortimer ; and another version ol
the same book is to be found in the Histc/ire dii Grand Tamerlan,
by De Sainctyon, published at Amsterdam in 1678. But, although
the existence of this Alhajen of Jean de Bee has been believed By
many, the more trustworthy critics consider the history aud histo-
rian to be equally fictitious.
Reference may be made to two more sources of inlormation.
(1) Supposed likenesses of Timur are to be found in books and in
the splendid collection of Oriental manuscripts and drawings in the
British Museum. One contained in the Shah Jahdn Ndma — a
gorgeous specimen of illuminated Persian m.innscript and exquisite
caligraphy — represents a most ordinary, middle-aged Oriental,
with narrow black whisker fringing the cheek and meeting the
tip of the chin in a scanty, pointed beard ; a thin moustache
sweeps in a semicircle from above the upper lip ; the eyebrow over
the almond-shaped eye is marked but not bushy. But it were
Tain to seek for an expression of genius in the countenance.
Another portrait is included in a set of sketches by native artists,
some of which, taken probably from life, show great care and
cleverness. Tiraiir is here displayed as a stoutish, long -bodied
man, below the middle-height, in age and feature not unlike the
first portrait, but with thicker and more sti-agglin^ hair, aud dis-
lincter, though not more agreeable character in the facial expres-
sion, yet not a sign of power, genius, or any elements of grandeur
or celebrity. The uncomfortable figure in the Bodleian Library
does not give much help. SirJohn Malcolm has been at some
pains to invest his portrait of Timiir with individuality. But an
analysis of his results leaves the reader in more perplexity than
satisfactioQ at the kind of information imparted, ana ha revert=
insensibly to the sources from which his instructor has bimsell
been instructed. (2) As regards plays, in Marlowe's Tamburlainc
Timiir is described as tall of stature, straightly fashioned, large ol
limb, h.iving joints strongly knit, long ana sinewy arms, a breadth
of shoulders to "boar old Atlas's burden," pale ol complexion, and
with "amber hair wrapp'd in curls." Tlie outline of this de-
jcription might be from Sharilu 'd-Din, while the colours are the
poet's own. A Latin memoir of Tameilane by Perondinus, printed
m 1600, entitled Magni Tamerlanis Scytharum Imjieratoris Vita,
describes Timiir as tall and bearded, broad-chested and broad
shouldered, well-built but lame, of a fierce countenance, and will
receding eyes, which express cruelty and strike terror into tin
lookers-on. But Jean du Bee's account of Timiir's appearance is
quite dilferent. Now rumiurZaiJic: was written in 1586. The first
English translation of Jean du Bee is dated in 1595, the Life by
Perondinus in 1600, and Petis de la Croix did not introduce
Sharifu 'd Din or 'All Yazdi to European readers till 17'2'2. The
dramatist must have heard of Timur in other quarters, equally
-eliable it may be with those available in the present sl.age of
Oriental research. At the beginning of the 18th century Timur
was represented in Rowc's Tamerlane as a model of valour and
»irtue. The plot, however, has little to do with history, and is
Improbable and void of interest. By Matthew Gregory Lewis
•gain "Tiraour" is depicted as tho conventional tyrant of a
gorgeous melodrama, slaying, burning, slaughtering, and commit-
ting every possible atrocity until checked bv violent death and a
Doctical climax.
Apart from moaeni European saixnM ana historians, ari tht
(nore strictly Oriental chroniclers who have WTitten in Persian,
Turkish, or Arabic, the folloiving authorities may be cited — Laoiiicus
Chalcondylas, Joannes Leunclavins, Joachimus Camcrarius, Petrus
Perondiuus, Lgzaro Soranzo, Simon Mairlus, Matthew Michiovius.
A score or so of other names are given by Samuel Purchas. See
also Clements Markham's Clavtjo, in the Hakluyt Society's pub-
lications ; White'a edition of Da'/y's.kratiaUtion of the Institutes
(1783); Stewart's translation of the Mofl/usM ; Malcolm's jUisIori/
qf Persia : and Trans. Boy. Soc.. 1886.. (F. J. G-)'
TIN (Lat. ttannum, whence the chemical symbol "Sn":
atomic ■weight = 117'6, 0 = 16), being a component of
bronze, was used as a metal thousands of years prior to
the dawn of history. But it does not follow thdt pre-
historic bronzes were made of metallic im. When the un-
alloj'ed metal was first introduced cannot be ascertains^
with certainty. AU we know is that about the 1st century
the Greek word Kao-o-ircpo? designated tin, and that tin was
imported from Cornwall into Italy after, if not before, the
invasion of Britain by Julius Csesar. From Pliny's writings
it apoears that the Romans in his time didnot reali70 the
distinction between tin and lead : the former wrjs called
plumbum albuin or candidum to distinguish it from plum/-
Lum nigrum (lead proper) The word stannum definitely
assumed its present meaniug in the 4th century (H. Kopp).
Grains of metallic tin occur as a subordinate admiiture
in the gold ores of Siberia, Guiana, and Bolivia, Of
tin mineral compounds (which are not numerous) tinstone,
SnOj, is the most imjiortant ; besides it only tin pyritea,
which, according to Rammelsberg, exists in two varieties,
FeCujSnS^ and ZnFeCu.,Sn.,S8, need be named here.
Tinslojie or Cassiterite. — This native oxide of tin, SnO»,
forms very hard quadratic crystals of specific gravity -6 ■ol
The pure mineral is colourless, and it b very scarce ; most
specimens are brown owing to the presence of ferric oi
manganic oxide The faces of the crystals exhibit diamond
lustre. There is also another native form, known as " wood
tin," occurring in roiindish masses with a fibrous radiating
iracture. Tho ore is found in veins or layers within the
older crystalline rocks and slates. Being much more highly
prool against the action of water and carbonic acid than
us matrix, the ore often presents itself in loose crystals as
part of the sand of rivers (stream tin). The oldest knowD
deposit of tinstone is that of Cornwall, where it occurs io
granite and in the " killas " (a kind of metaiiii./i phic clayisb
slate), associated with wolframite, ap;ajte, ti^paz, mica,
tourmaline, arsenide of iron, and other minerals Corniqh
tin ore is characteristically rich in a.'-'caic. Minor Euro*
pean deposits occur in the Erzgebirge, ia Brittany, and in
Galicia (Spain). A very considerable dcpi'-n of p'lre ore
(chiefly stream tin) exists in the island of Uanca : and in
Malacca tinstone is found. Other relatively abundant
deposits occur in Bolivia and Peru, and in Queensland
and New South Wales (lately discovered).
Metallurgy. — In the extraction ol tin from tinstone ore
the first step is to- pound the crude ore and wash away the
lighter gangue with water (see Metalhtrgy, vol. xvL p'.
59). The washed ore is " roasted " to burn away the
arsenic and sulphur and to convert the iron, originally
present in the iieavy and compact form of pyrites or
arsenide, into light friable oxide, whicn is removed by a
•second washing process. If much oxide of copper is con.
tained in the product, it is extracted with dilute sulphuric
acid, and from the solution is recovered by precipitation
with metallic iron (see Copper, vol. vi. p. 347). The piin^i
fied orf> known as "black tin." goes to the smelting fuma«ew'
During the roasting process the ore must be constant!^
agitated to prevent caking, and to bring the arseniierous,'
ic, parts to tho siu'face. To save manual labour, Oxland
and Hocking have constructed a mechanical roaster, It
consists of a slanting tube of boiler-iron, coated inside with
fire-brick. The lower end opens into the fire-place ; th0
upper commimicates with a set of chambers for the con4
densation of the white arsenic produced. The washed
ore, after being dried op tho top of the chamber, is run
thence by a funnel into the pipe, which is made to rotate
about its axis from three to eight times per minute Before
the ore has travelled far down the arsenic and sulphur
catch fire, and by tho time it reaches the bottom it is fully
roasted. It falls into a receptacle below the level of the
T I IN
401
fire. Ot the impuncies ol tiio ore tne woliramite (tungstate
of iron and manganese) is the most troublesome, because
on account of its high specific gravity it cannot be washed
away as gangue. To remove it, OsJand fuses the ore with
a certain proportion of carbonate of soda, which suffices to
convert the tungsten into soluble alkaline tungstate, with-
out producing noteworthy quantities of soluble stannate
from the oxide of tin ; the tungstate is easily removed by
treatment vrith water.
Smelting. — The purified ore is mixed with about one-
fifth of its weight of anthracite smalls, the mixture being
mobtened to prevent it from being blown off by the
draught, and is then fused on the sole of a reverberatory
. furnace for five or sis hours. The slag and metal pro-
duced are then run off and the latter is cast into bars ; these
are in general contaminated with iron, arsenic, copper, and
other imptuities. To refine them, the bars are heated
cautiously on an inclined hearth, when relatively pure
tin runs off, while a skeleton of impure metal remains.
The metal run off is further purified by poling, i.e., by
stirring it with the branch of a tree, — the apple tree being
preferred traditionally. This operation is no doubt in-
tended to remove the oxygen diffused throughout the metal
as oxide, part of it perhaps chemically by reduction of the
oxide to metal, the rest by conveying the finely diffused
oxide to the surface and causing it to unite there with the
oxide scum. After this the metal is allowed to rest for a
time in the pot at a temperature above its freezing point
and is then ladled out into ingot forms, care being taken
at each stage to ladle off the' top stratum. The 6riginal
top stratum is. the purest, and each succeeding lower
stratum has a greater proportioa of impurities ; the lowest
consists largely of a solid.^ or >emi-soM alloy «£ tin an4
iron.
To test the purity of the metal, the tin-smelter heats the
bars to a certain temperature just below'the fusing point,
and then strikea^hem with a hammer or lets them fall on
a stone floor from a given height. If the tin is pure it
BpUts into a mass of granular strings. Tin which has
been thus manipulated and proved incidentally to be very
pure is sold as grain tin. A i lower quality goes, by the.
name of block tin. Of the several commercial varieties',
Banca tin is the purest ; it is indeed almost, chemically
jHire. Next comes English grain tin. For the preparation
of chemically pure tin two methods are employed, (1)
Commercially pure tin is treated with nitric acid, which
converts the tin proper into an insoluble hydrate of SnOj,
while the copper, iron, <S:c,, become nitrates ; the oxide is
washed first with dilute nitric acid, then with water, and
is lastly dried and reduced by fusion with black flux or
cyanide of potassium. (2) A solution of pure stannous
chloride in very dilute hydrochloric acid is reduced with
a galvanic current. According to Stolba, beautiful crystals
of pure tin can be obtained as follows. , A platinum basin,
coated over with wax or paraffin outside, except a small
circle at the very lowest point, is placed oti a plate of amal-
gamated zinc, lying on the bottom of a beaker, and is filled
with a solution of pure stannous chloride. The besJker
also is cautiously filled with acidulated water up to a point
beyond the edge of the platinum basin. The whole ia then
left to itself, when crystals of tin gradually separate out on
the bottom of the basin.
Properties of Pure Tin. — An ingot of pnra tin is pure white (ex-
cept for a slight tinge of blue) ; it exhibits considerable lustre and
is Dot subject to tarnishing on exposure to normal air. The metal
is pretty soft and easily flattened oat under the hammer, but almost
devoid of tenacity. That it is elastic, within narrow limits, is proved
by its clear rin" when struck with a hard body under circumstances
permitting^ of Tree vibration. The specific gravity of ingot tin is
7"293 at 13° C. (Matthiessen). A tin ingot, though seemingly amor-
phoni, has a crystalline stmcture, consisting of an aggregate of
•^oadiatio octahedra ; hence the cluiracterialic cncklisg noise vhifih .
:il— i6
a bar of tin gives out when cein? bent. This structure can be
rendered visible by superficial etching \vith diiiite acid. As the
minuter crystals dissolve more quickly than tl:e larger onea, t.'ie
surface assumes a frosted appearance (moirie nUtallique), not uililvo
that of a frozen window-pane in winter time. Its crystalline struc-
ture must account for the striking fact that the ingot, when e.inosDd
for a sufficient time to very low temperatures (to -aa' C. for 14 iiours),
becomes so brittle that it falls into powder under a pe.^tle or
hammer ; it indeed sometimes crumbles into powder spontaneously.
At ordinary temperatures tin proves fairly ductule under the haranier
and its ductility seems to increase as the temperature rises up to
about 100° C. At some temperatuie near its fusing pomt it be-
comes brittle {vide supra), and stiU more brittle from -14° C.
don-nwards. This behaviour of the metal may probably be explained
by assuming that in' any tin crystal the coefficient of thermic ex-
pansion has one value in the diiection of the principal axis and
anotheriu that of either of the subsidiary axes. From 0° to 100' the
two coefficients are practically identical ; below -14' and from,
somewhere above 100 C. upwards they assume different values ;
and, as the several crystals are oriented in a lawless fashion, this
must tend to disintegrate the mass. Tin fuses at 232°-7 (Persoz) j
at a red heat it begins to volatilize slowly ; at 1600° to 1803° C.
(Carnellcy and Williams) it boils. The hot vapour produced com-'
bines with the oxygen of tha air into white oxide, SnOn.
Industrial Applications. — Commercially pure tin is used (princi-
J)ally in Germany) for the making of pharmaceutical apparatus,
such as evaporating basins for extracts, infusion pots, stills, &o.
It is also^employed for making two varieties of tin-foil, — one for the
silvering of mirrors (see JIirrob, vol. xvi. p. 500), the other for
wrapping up chocolate, toUet soap, tobacco, &c The mirror foil
must contain some copper to prevent it from being too readily
amalgamated by the mercury. For making tin-foil the metal is
rolled into thin sheets, pieces of which are beaten out with a wooden
mallet. As pure tin does not tarnish in the air and is proof against
acid liquids, such as vinegar, lime juice, &c., it is utilised for
culinary and domestic vessels. But it is expensive, and tin vessels
have to be made very heavy to give them sufficient stability of foiTO ;
hence it is generally employed merely as a protecting coating for
utensilsmiade essentially of copper or iron. The tinning of a copper
basin is an easy operation. The basin, made scrupulously clean, is
heated over a charcoal fire to beyond the fusing point of tin. Molten
tin is then poured in, a little powdered sal-ammoniac added, and
the tin spread over the inside with a bunch of tow. The sal-
ammoniac removes the last unavoidable film of oxide, leaving a
purely metallic surface, to which the tin adheres firmly. For
tinning small objects of copper or brass {i.e., pins, hooks, &c) a
wet-way process is followed. One part of cream of tartar, two of
alum, and two of common salt are dissolved in boiling water, and
the solution is boiled with granulated metallic tin (or, better, mLxed
with a little stannous chloride) to produce a tin solution ; and into
this the articles are put at a boiling heat. In the absence of
metallic tin there is no visible change ; but, as soon as the metal is
introduced, a galvanic action sets in and the articles get coated over
'with a firmly adhering film of tin. Tinning wrouglit iron is eflected
by immersion. The most important form of the operation is mak-
ing tinned from ordinary sheet iron (making what is called " sheet
tin "). The iron plates, having been carefully cleaned with sand
and muriatic or sulphuric acid, and lastly with water, are plunged
into heated tallow to drive away the water without oxidation of
the metal. They are next steeped in a bath, first of molten ferrugin-
ous, then of pure tiiL They are then taken out and kept suspended
in hot taDow to enable the surplus tin to run oS'. The tin of
the second bath dissolves iron gradually and becomes fii for the
first bath. To tin cast-iron articles they must be decarburetted
superficially by ignition within a bath of ferric oxide (powdered
haematite or similar material), then cleaned with acid, and tinned
by immersion, as explained above. By far the greater part of the
tin produced metallnrgically is used for making tin alloys, the
majority of which have been ti-eated of in preceding articles ; see
Lead, vol. xiv. p. 378 ; Pewter, vol xviii p. 7-5 ; Beoxze, vol
iv. p. 366 ; Phosphorus, vol. xviii. p. 817.
Tin Compounds. — The most important of these may be arranged
into two classes, namely, stannous compounds, SnX„, and stannic
compotmds, SaX^, where X stands for CI, Br, JO, &c. Stannous
compounds are, in general at least, characteristically prone V> pass
into the stannic form by taking up additional Xj in the i^<!tc^ of
oxygen, chlorine, &c.
Stamwus Chleride, SnCV — ^This can be obtained pure only by
heating purtt tin in a current of pure iiy hydrochloric acid gas.
It is a white solid, fusing at 250° C. and volatiliziuq at a red beat
in nitrogen, a vacuum, or oydrochloric acid, without decomposition.
The vapour density below 700° C. corresponds to Sn„Cl„ above 8C0°C.
to nearly SnCU (Von Meyer and Zublin). The chloride readily com-
bines with water into an easily soluble crystallizable hydrate ('*tia
crystals "). This is made without difficulty by dissolving tin ia
strong hydrochloric acid and allowing it to crystalline. For its
indostrial preparation Kollner passes sufficiently bydiated hydro-
xxm. — ii
(402
T 1 K— T I N
chloric acid gas ov^r'gnimiiated tin contained in stoneware bottles
and evaporates tho concentrated solution produced in tin basins
over granulated tin. The basin itself is not attacked. The crystals
contain one H3O according to Berzelius, while Marignac finds two ;
probably both arc righL The crystals are very soluble in cold
water, and if the salt is really pure a small j)roportion of water
forms a clear solution ; but on adding much water most of the salt
is decomposed, with the formation of a precipitate of oxy-chlnridfl—
2SnCl3 + 3H2O = 2HC1 + Sn20Clo.2H20.
According to Michel and Kraft, one litre of cold saturated solution
of tin crystals weighs 1827 grammes and contains 1333 grammes of
SnCU. The same oxy-chloride is produced when the moist crystals,
or their solution, are exposed to tjie air ; by the action of. tbeatmo*.
spheric oxygen
O + 3SnCl3= SnaCljO + SnCI^.
Jlence all tin crystals as kept in the laboratory ^ve'witlT'water
a turbid soIuCion, wliich contains stannic in addition to stannous
chloride. The complete conversion of stannous into stannic chloride
may be effected by a great many reagents, — for instance, by chlorine
(bromine, iodine) readily ; by mercuric chloride, HgClj, in the heat,
with precipitation of calomeL, HgCl, or metallic mercury ; by ferric
chloride in tho heat, with formation of ferrous salt, FeClj ; by ar-
Benious chloride in strongly hydrochloric solutions, with precipita-
hon of chocolate-brown metallic arsenic. All these reactions are
available as tests for stanuosum or tho respective agents. In opposi-
tion to stannous chloride, even sulphurous acid (solution) behaves
as an oxidizing agent. If the two reagents are mixed, a precipitate
of yellow stanuic sulphide is produced. By first intention/
S03H2 + 3Sn"Cl2 = 3Sn"Cl,0 + H2S. '
Tho stannic 'oxy-chloride readily exchanges its 0 for Cl^ at the"cx-
pense of the hydrochloric acid, which is always present, and tho
H2S decomposes one-half of a molecule of SnCl^ with formation of
SnSj. A strip of metallic zinc when placed in a solution of stan-
nous chloride precipitates the tin in crystals and takes its place in
the solution. Stannous chloride is largely used in the laboratory
as a reducing agent, in dyeing as a mordant-
*" StamiQus Oxide, — This as a hydrate is obtained from a solution of
stannous chloride by addition of carbonate of soda; it forms a white
precipitate, which can be washed with air-free water and dried at
80°C. without much change by oxidation. If the hydrate is heated
in carbonic acid, the black anhydride SnO remains (Otto). Precipi-
tated stannous hydrate dissolves readily in caustic ix)tash ley ; if
the solution is evaporated quickly, it suffers decomposition, with
/brmation of metal and stannate,
2SnO -¥ K.p = anO.EoO -t- Sn. ,
If it isevaporated slowly, anhydrous stannous oxide crystallizes
out at a certain stage (Otto). Dry stannous oxide, if touched with
a glowing body, catches fire and burns into binoxide, SnOj- Stan-
nous oxalate when heated by itself in a tube leaves stinnous oxide
(Liebig).
Stannic chloride, SnCl^, is obtained by passing dry chlorine over
granulated tin contained in a retort ; tho tetrachloride distils over
as a heavy ln^uid, from which the excess of chlorine is easily re-
moved by shaking with a small quantity of tin filings and rc-dis-
tilling. It is a colourless fuming liquid of specific gravity 2 269 at 0°
(Pierre) and 2'234 atlS^C. (Gerlach), is fluid at -29''C., and boils
at 115*'"4 C. under 7531 mm. pressure (Pierre). The chloridaunites
energetically with water into crystalKne hydrates (ex. SnCl^.SH^O),
easily soluble in water. It combines readily with alkaline and
other chlorides into double salts: thus SnCl4-l-2KCl = SnCIgK2,
analogous to the chloro-platinat* ; another example is the salt
SnClfl(NHj)5, known industrially as *' pink salt," because it is used
OS a mordant to produce a pink colour. The plain chloride solution
is similarly usei It ia usually prepared by difaolTiug the metal
in a<{ua regia.
Stannic Oxide, SnOj. — This, if the term is taken to include the
liydrates, exists in a variety of forms. (1) Tinstone (see above) is
proof against all acids. Its disintegration for analytical purposes
can be effected by fusion with caustic alkali in silver, with the
formation of soluble stannate, or by fusion with sulphur and car-
bonate of soda, with the. formation of a soluble thio-stsnnate,
SnSj + xN^agS. (2) A similar oxide is produced by burning tin in
air at high temperatures or exposing any of the hydrates to a strong
red hMt. Such tin-ash, as it is called, is used for the polishing of
opti(ial glasses. (S) Mela-stannic acid {H.jOSnOj, generally written
HioSnjOjj, to account for the complicated composition of meta-
stannates, e.g., the soda salt HsNajSn^Ois) is the white hy^ato
produced from the metal by means of nitric acid. It is insoliible
ID water and in nitric acid and apparently so in hydrochloric acid ;
but if heated with this last for some time it passes into a hydro*
chlorate, which, after the acid mother liquor has been decanted off, ,
dissolves in water. The solution when subjected to distillation
behaves pretty much like u physical solution of the oxide in hydro-
chloric acid, while a solution of ortho-stannic acid in hydrochloric
acid behaves like a aolutioa of SnCL in water, i.e., gives off no
bydrochlohcftcidjuid no precipitate or bydrat«d SnOt- (4) Ortho-
stannic acid is obtained 113 a white precipitate on^the addition^
carbonate of soda, or the exact quantity of precipitated carbonate
of lime to a solution of the chloride. This hydrate, SnOjHaO, ia
readily soluble in acids forming stannic salts, and in caustic potash
and soda, with the formation of orthots tan nates. Of these stannata
of sodium, Na2Sn02, is produced industrially by heating tin with
Chili saltpetre and caustic soda, or by fusing very finely powdered
tinstone with caustic soda in iron vessels. A Bofution of the purs'
salt yields fine prisms of the composition Na^SnOa-t-lOHjO, whichi
effloresce in the air. The salt is much used as a mordant in dyeing
and calico-printing. Alkaline and other stannates when treated
with aqueous hydrofiuoric acid are converted into fluo-stannatefl
{e.g., K^^nOa into K^nFg), which are clo.sely analogous to, and iao;
morphous with, ftuo-silicates.
Sulphides. — If tin is heated with"sulphur the two tinite Tery
readily into stannous sulphide, SnS, a lead-grey mass, which undet
the circumstances refuses to take up more sulphur. But, if a
mixture of tin (or, better, tin amalgam), Qulphur, and eal-ammoniac
in proper proportions be heated, stannic sulphide, SnSj, is produced
in the beautiful form of auram inusivum (mosaic gold^ — a soHd
consisting of golden yellow, metallic lustrous scales, it is used
chiefly as a yellow *' bronze" for plaeter-of- Paris statuettes, &c.
Analysis. — Tin compounds when heated on charcoal with car-
bonate of soda in the reducing blowpipe flame yield metal and a
scanty ring of white SnO,. The reduction, however, succeeds better
with cyanide of potassium as a flux. Stannous salt solutions yieht
a brown precipitate of SnS with sulphuretted hydrogen, which \i
insoluble in cold dilute acids and in real sulphide of ar^monium,
(N 114)33 ; but the yellow, or the colourless reagent on addition of
sulphur, dissolves the precipitate as SnSj salt TJie solution oij
acidification jnelds a yellow precipitate of this sulphide. Stannid
8alt,^nClj, solutions give a yellow precipitate of SnSawith sulphnrJ
etted hydrogen, which is insoluble in cold dilute acids but readily
soluble in sulphide of ammonium, and is re- precipitated therefrom
as SnSj on acidification. Only stannous salts (not stannic) give a
precipitate of calomel in mercuric chloride solution, A mixture oi
stannous "and stannic chloride when added to a sufficient quantitV
of solution of chloride of gold, gives an intensely purple precipitate
of gold purple (purple of Caasius), — a compound which, although
known for centuries, is to this day little understood cbemicallyj
It behaves on the whole like a compound of Sn^Oj with Au^Oj
The test is very delicate, although the colour is not in all cases a
pure purple. (W. D.) ' '
TZNAMOU, the name given in Guiana to a certain
bird as stated in 1741 by Barrero {Fraitce EquijioxiaU^ pj
138), from whom it was taken and used in a more general
sense by Buffon (Hist. Nat. Oiseavjr, iv, p. 502). In 1783
Latham (S^nopsis^ ii. p. 724) adopted it as English, and
in 1790 (hidex^ ii. p. 633) Latinized it Tinamiis, as the
name of a new and distinct genus. The "Tinamou"of
Barrere has been identified with the "Macucagua" described
and figured by Marcgrave in„1648, and is t\i& ^TiTiamta
major of modern authors.^
Buffon and his successors saw that the Tinamous, though
passing among the European colonists of South America
as " Partridges," could not bo associated with those birds,
and Latham's step, above mentioned, was generally ap-
proved. The genus he had founded was iieually placed
among the GaUin^, and by many writers was held to be
allied to the Bastards, which, it must be remembered, were
then thought to bo *' Slruthious." Indeed the likeness of
the Tinamou's bill to that of the BaJiA"(voL xx. p. 506)
was remarked in 1811 by llliger. On the other hand
L' Herminier in 1 827 saw features in the Tinamou's sternum
that in hia judgment linked the bird to the Rallid^. In
1830 Wagler (Nat. Syst, Amphibian, 6lc., p. 127) placed
the Tinamous in the same Order as the Ostrich and its
allies ; and, though ho did this on very insuflScient grounds^
his assignment has turned out to be not far from the mark,
as in 1862 the great affinity of these groups was shown by
Prof. Parker's researches, which were afterwards printed
in the Zoological Transa4:iio7vs(v. pp. 205-232, 236-238, pis.
xxxix.-xli.), and was further substantiated by him in tho
FhUosopkical Transactiom (1866, pp. 174-178, pL xv.).
Shortly after this Prof. Huxley in bis often -quoted
paper in the Zoological Proceedings (1867, pp. 425, 426)
* BriasoD and after him LioDeuii confonnded this bird, whicVthex
had never seea. vitb the TfinuPETEB (9. v.).
T T N — T T N'
40»
tras enabled to place Uie whole maiier m a clear ligbt,
•rging that the Tinamous formed a very distinct group of
tirds which, though not to be removed from the CarLn<xi&,
presented so much resemblance to the Ratttst as to indicate
ihem to be the bond of union between those two great
H»nsjons.' The group from the resemblance of its palatal
characters to those of the Emeu (vol. viii. p 171), Dnniac-u^
be called DroTn&ognatJiss^ and his decision, if not hi'- name,
tas since been v\ndely accepted.
The Tinamous rbus — by whau'vi^r uanit; we call thetu, Drom-^o
jnrtiAa. T^nt}m^,o^ Cryptun — wrll bescPD to be of gf at inip<)rtance
from a taxonomtr's point of view, though in regard ft nuaibi-rs they
fcre lomparalively Vnsignifi'-aot. In 1873 Messrs. Sciater an*! SaIvid
iL iheir A'l'nuntdiUor (pp 15-2, 153) recognized nine genen and
:hirty nine s|>ertes, sinc« whi<'b tinoe about half a dozen other
»pecies may hav»; been des« nbcd . but in 1880 Schl(^I( ;l/'ts Pays-
Ala, vui . Qlonogr 41, pp 1-51) would only admit five genera and
thirtTi'^ne sp»«'it^s — the brt^r be«*-aus*» u was the number possessed
by the L»-yden tuu;>«-um They art ppculiaj to the Nw>tropical
ReeiOD — four speries only finding their way into noathern Mexico
kDo none Wvotid. Some of them itihabit fornstsand others the njore
jpeo couutr> , but settingnside size (which in this group vanes (roni
tlut of a Qyjii.ll ro that ofu large uoninmn Fowl) there is tin untDi>-
ukable UD Jonuity of appearance among them as u u-holtj, so thai
almost anybody having 6»*n one species of the group would Jways
retognize another Yet in minor oharacters there la cotisidfrabie
difference among them ; and first of all the group may be dmded
into iwo sijb f'lmiliea, the first, Titm-mm^, baving four toes, and
ihe second Tf-narnotiding^ having nui tnrei- — the lattei cotitauiing.
ao far as is known, but Cwo geren^ Caloprzu-'' hhJ Tinamofia^ •-acn
rons)}>tinp nf a siuirle speci*»s. while tbi- former ftCcordiDg to Messrs.
Sclatt-r and Salvia xut supra)^ may he separated into nevvo genera,
iwo t>euig Tinatrius and NothocerciLS, chaActenzed by the roughi:ea3
of tbeiT posterior tarsal scales, the others, Orifpluru^. R}iynch'>f>ui,
S.thopTim'/a., NothuTo^ and Taoniscus, having smooth legs.
To the ordinary spectator Tinamous have uiucL the
lt»ok'of Parti idges, but the more attentive observer »tU
•"/^•^J^-^ .i^lC^Ti^^ ~^M^^
Rufous ttuamou {Rkynchitius ru/escem).
hotice that their elongated bill, their Email bead and
slender neck, clothed with very short feathers, give them a
different air. The plumage is generally inconspicuous
some tint of brown, ranging from rufous to slaty, and often
more or less closely barred with a darker shade or black.
is the usual style of ccloration , but some species are
characterized by a white throat or a bay breast The
wings are short and rounded, and in some forms the
feathers of the tail, which in all are hidden by thjir coverts,
are soft. In bearing and gait the birds show some resem-
blance to their distant relatives the Raiilst, and Mr
* M AWj also baj> from ao independeot iovestigatioD of the osteo-
Ofry ftnd myology of Nothura tmyor cooje to virtually the same con-
dlH!£0 (Joum. dt Zootofu, iti. pp !<!<' and 2P2,.pl«. vUi-n.).
I Banieii snows (PriK. HwA Suciety, 1868, p 115, pL ziL)
that this la e.spetuiUy seen in the newly hatched young.
He also notices the .still stronger Ftatitv character, that tha
male takes on himself the duty of incubation The eggs
are very remarkable objects, curiously unlike those of other
hjrd.-i . and, as before stated (BtRDS, voL iii p. 775), their
fhell ' looks as if it were of highly-bamiahed metal or
glazed porcelain, presenting also various colours, which
seem to be constant in the particular species, from pale
primrose to sage-green or light indigo, or from chocolate-
brown to pinkish orange All who have eaten it declare
the flesh of the Tinamou to have a most dehcate taste, as
It has a most inviting appearance, the pectoral muscles
being semi-opaque Of their habits not iCQch has been
told. Darwin (Jourm^J, chap iiL) has remarked upon the
silliness they show in allomng themselves to be taken, and
this is Wholly in accordance with what Prof. Parker ob-
serves of their brain capacity, and is an additional testi-
mony to their low morphological ranL At least one
sfwcies of Tinamou has bred not unfreqneutly in confine-
ment, and an interesting account of what would have been
a successful attempt by Mr John Bateman to naturalize
this species, Rhyiu-Jintiutrufescfns^ in England, at Brightling-
sea in Essex, appeared in Tlw Field (23d Feb 1884 and 12th
Sept 1885). The expenment unfortunately failed owing
to the destruction of the birds by foxes. (a. n )
TINDAL, Matthew ( 1 65r> 1 7.5.1), one of the ablest and
most popular of the English deists, the son ot a clergyman,
was bom at Beer Ferris, Devonshire, in 1 fi56 He studied
law at Lincoln College, Oxford, where he came under the
influence of the High Churchman George Hickes, dean <»f
Worcester , and in his twenty-second year he was elected
fellow of Ail Souls College, and held his fellowship till
his death. About 1685 he saw "that upon his High
Church notions a separation from the Church of' Rome
could not be justified," and accordingly he joined the latter
But, discerning the baselessness and absurdity of Rome's
claims, he returned to the Church ot England at Easter
1 688. In 1 694 he published an Esxot/ of Obedience to the
Stiprenu Powers, in which be justified the Revolution
against notions of passive obedience and j'lts divinum ; in
1697 an E&sny on the Power of (lie Magistrate and the
Rights of MaiLklnd m Matters of Ri/u/ion, an able vindica-
tion of liberty of conscience, though he allows no right of
toleration to " atheists ", and in 1 698 an essay on The
Litierty of the Press, a vigorous exposure of the proposal
to appoint Lcensers of the press and a powerful plea for
the free discussion of religion. The first of his two larger
works, The Rights of the Chnstvan Church associated against
the Romish and all other priests who claim an independent
pouter over it, parti., appeared anonymously in 1706 (2d
ed., 1706; 3d, 1707; 4th, 1709). The book was regarded
in its day as an extremely forcible defence of the Erastiat
theory of the supremacy of the state over the church, and
at once provoked a storm of counter-argument and abuse
on the part of those who maintained the independent right*
and authority of the church. The law also wa.< invoked
against it, and, after several attempts to prnscribe the work
had failed, one against the author, (iciblisher, and printei
succeeded on 12th December 1707. arul another against •
bookseller for selling a cojiy the next day The pro.<!C4-u
tion did not prevent the issue of a fourib edition uml gavt
the author the opportunity of issuni)^ A Drjerue <./ .'*»
Rights of the Chnstuin Church, in twn |pur^^ ('Jd od I "(19)
The book continued to be the subject <>) denumiatuin lor
years, and Tindal believed he was charged hy |)r (Iitwoa
bishop of London, in a Pastorai Leit^. wilL bnvm^ uudei
mined religion and promoted atheism and inbdrliiy. — •
' Herr voD Natbusiiu baA described it« micm»n>i>i( atruiiun '-'i»»»*"»
fur xiTistentch. Zootogic, 1871. pp. 3S0 354).
404
T I N— T I N
charge to which he replied in an anonymous tract, An
Address to the InhahitanU of London and Westminster, a
second and larger edition of which appeared in 1730 In
this tract ' he makes a valiant defence of the deists and of
the use of reason in religious matters, and anticipates here
end there his Christianity at Old as the Creation ; or the
1 Gospel a Republication of tKe Religion of Nature, London,
1730 (2d ed., 1731 ; 3d, 1732 ; 4th, 1733), which was re-
garded by friends and foes alike as the " Bible " of deism.
It was really only the first part of the whole work, and the
second, though written and entrusted in manuscript to a
friend, never saw *he light. It was said that Dr Gibson
prevented its f jblication. The first part made a great
noise, and the answers to it were numerous, the most able
being by Dr James Foster (1730), Dr John Ck)nybear6
(1732), Dr John Leland (1733), and Bishop Butler (1736).
It was translated into German by J Lorenz Schmidt
(1741), and f.om it dates the influence of English deism
on German theology. It is by this book that Tindal is
now chiefly remembered ; but he had probably adopted
substantially the principles it expounds before he wrote
his essay of 1697 He objected to be called a simple deist,
and claimed the name of " Christian deist," as he held that
true Christianity is identical with the eternal religion of
nature. He died at Oxford on 16th August 1733.
The religious system expounded io Tindal's Christianity as Old
as the Creation, unlike the earlier system of Lord Herbert of Cher-
bury, was based on the empirical principles of Locke's philosophy.
It assumed the traditional deistic antitheses of external and in-
ternal, positive and natural, revelations and religions, and perpetu-
ated at the same time the prevalent misconceptions as to the nature
of religion and revelation. The system was, moraover, worked out
by the purely a priori method, with all but a total disregard of the
facts of religious history. It starts from the tremendous assump-
tions that true religion most, both from the nature of God and the
nature of things, be eternal, universal, simple, and perfect ; it main,
tains that this religion can consist of nothing but the simple and
universal duties towards God and man, the orst consisting in the
fulfilment of the second, — in other words, the practice of morality.
The author's moral system is somewhat confused and inconsistent,
but is es-wntially utilitarian. From such principles it follows neces-
sarily that the true revealed religion can be nothing more nor less
than a republication of the religion of nature or reason, and that,
if Christianity is the perfect religion, it can only be that republica-
tion, and must be as old as the creation. The special mission of
Christianity, therefore, was simply to deliver men from the super-
stitioQ which had in course of time got mixed up with the religion
of nature. True Christianity consequently must be a perfectly
*'rea^Dable service"; arbitrary and positive precepts can form do
true pa- of it ; revelation ana reason can never disagree ; reason
must be supreme, and the Scriptures aA well aj* all religious doc-
trines must submit to its tests ; and only such writings can be re-
garded as Divine Scripture which lend to the honour of God and
the good of man Thus tested, much in the Old and the New
Testaments must be rejected as defective ib morality or erroneous
in fact and principle. The strength of Tindal's position was th^
underlying conviction of the essential harmony between man's re-
ligious and rational nature, and consequently of the rationality
of Christianity. Its weakness was that, like the whole religious
philosophy of the time, it was founded on a total misconception of
the nature of religion anil of revelation, and on as completo a disre-
card of the course of man's religious development. Weak points
ID it were ably exposed by Foster, Conybeare, Butler, and others ;
but its radical errors needed for their complete exposure the higher
conceptions of religion and religious history which were originated
by Leasing, Schleiermacher, and Hegel.
See Lelaod. yuw n/ tht Prinrxpal Dti^ical Wriltri (Loodoo, ITM) : Lecbler,
Ctschi^KU dfM englucAci DfumujtStutt^rt. 1*11). Tht^logiaH fUvUno, November
18A4 ; Hunt, B^hgunu Thought in England from r\« Reformation to ttu EnA of
last Centuri/ (London, 1870 73). Lei]it SlepiieD /lutory of En^tUft TAoiifl'ir in
tfu EigtUuTitA Ctntury (LondoD, 1876-80) ; A. 9. Farrar, BamptoQ Lecture (1862),
lect Iv
TINGHAE. See Cbdsan.
TINNfi, Alexaxdbink (1839-1869), African traveller,
born at The Hague on 17th October 1839, was the daughter
of an English merchant and his wife. Baroness van Steen-
gracht-Capellen. Her father died when she was five years
' A Second Address to the InkabitanU, &c., with replies to some of
the critics of that book, bears the same date^ 1730, though some of the
Works it refers to appeared in 1731.
old, leaving her the richest heiress in the Netheriandau
After travelling in Norway, Italy, and the East, and visit-
ing Egypt, when she ascended the Nile to near the equator.
Mademoiselle Tinni left Europe again in ISGl for a pro-
longed sojourn in the Nile regions. Accompanied by her
mother and her aunt, she set out from Cairo on 9th Janu-
ary 1862. After a short stay at Khartoum, the party
ascended the White Nile as far as Gondokoro and explored
a part of the Sobat, returning to Khartoum in November.
Baron von Heuglin and Dr Steudner having meantime
joined the ladies at Khartoum, the whole party set out in
February 1863 to explore the Bahr-el-Ghazal. The limit
of navigation at the Bahr-el Homr was reached on lOtb
March. From Lake Rek a journey was made overland,
across the Bahr Jur and south west by the Baht Kosango,
to Jebel Kosango, on the borders of the Niam-Niam
country. During the journey all the travellers suffered
severely. Steudner died in April and Madame TinnS in
June, and after many fatigues and dangers the remainder
of the party reached Khartoum in July 1864 Made-
moiselle Tinn6 returned to Cairo by Berber and Suakira.
The geographical and scientific results of the expedition,
largely into a new country, were highly important, as will
be seen in Heuglin's narrative in Petfrmann's Millheilungen
(Erg.-hft, Nov. 15, 1865), and in bis own Travels in the
Region of the White NUe (1869). At Cairo Mademoiselle
Tinn6 lived in somewhat Oriental style during the next
four years, visiting Algeria, Tunis, and other parts of the
Mediterranean. In January 1869 3he started from Tripolis
with a caravan, intending to proceed to Lake Tchad, and
thence by Wadai, Darfur, and Kordofan to the Upper
Nile. In July, however, on the route from Murzuk to
Rhat, she was murdered by her escort.
Besides the references already given, see .Tohn A Tinne's Geogra'
pkical Notes of an Expeduion in Central Africa bv three Dutdi
Ladies, Liverpool, 1864.
TINNEVELLI, or TrNAVELLV, a district of British
India, in the Madras presidency, lying between 8* 9' and
9° 56' N. lat. and 77° 16' and 78° 27' E. long. It has an
area of 5381 square miles, and a coast-line of nearly 100
miles. Madura district bounds it on the N and N E., on
the S. and S.E. the Gulf of Mannir, and on the VV the
southern Ghats. TinnevelLi is a large plain, with an aver-
age elevation of 200 feet, sloping to the east with slight
undulations. Along the western boundary ibe mountains
rise to 4000 feet ; but they send out no spurs into the
district, nor are there any isolated bills The district is
watered by numerous short streams, the principal being
the Tambrapaml (length 80 miles). In the north the
scenery is unattractive and the soil poor, in the south
red sandy soil prevails, in which little save the Palmyra
palm will grow. But along the banks of the rivers are
rice-fields and a variety of trees and crops Many shoals
occur near the shore, and in the north-east numerous rocks
and reefs. The hills which divide Tinnevelli from Travan-
core are chiefly granite and gneiss ; and along the coast
stretches the broad belt of alluvium common to the whole
east coast of India, and in it ure marv salt marshes, divided
by sand-dunes from the sea. Several veins of calc spar
cross the district from east to west, and the beds of all the
rivers are more or less encrusted with a deposit of lime, j
The district contains many ancient and magnificent build-
ings; but the most interesting antiquities are the large
sepulchral earthen urns of prelxistoric races which have
been found at several places, especially along the course of
the TAmbrapant, and which contain bones, pottery of all
sorts, beads and bronze ornaments, iron weapons, imple-
ments, (tc. As the seat of Dravidian civilization Tinnevelli
possesses more antiquarian interest than any other part
of Madras. The climate is very hot and dry except at
T I N— T I P
405
the season of the monsoons ; tne average annual rainfall
throughout the district is less than 25 inches. Tinnevelli
possesses several roads, but no canals The South Indian
Railway enters the district five miles north of Virudupatti
and runs to Tuticorin (77 miles) ; a branch line (18 miles)
■connects this last town with Tinnevelli.
In 1851 the population numliereJ 1.699,747 (males 825,887,
females 873,860). of whom 1,468,977 were Hindus, 89,767 Moham-
medans, and 140,946 Christians. Tinnevelli has twelve towns with
over 10,000 inhabitants each, viz . Tinnevelli (see below) ; Srivil-
liputur, 15,256; PaKnmcotla, 17,964; Tuticorin, 16.281; Kulase
Kliarapatnam, 14,972; Sivasiri, 13,632, Viravanalliir, 12.318;
Raiapalayam, 12.021, Tenkasi, 11,987, Kdyalpaln.iin, 11,806;
KalUdakuichi, 10,936; and Sivakasi, 10,833. Out of the total
area of 53S1 square miles 1403 arc uncultivahle waste In 1885-86
cereals, chiefly rice and spiked millet or kambu, the staple food of
the district, occupied 842,741 acres, pulses 192.341, oil seeds 78,127,
and cotton 206,717. The total area of forest is roughly estimated
at 1500 square miles. Tuticorin is the only port of any importance.
The chief exports are cotton, coflfee, jaggery, chillies, kc. ; sheep,
horses, cattle, and poultry are also sent to Ceylon. There is a con-
siderable inland trade with Travancore. The pearl fishery on the
<oast is now unimportant. Coastal navigation is dangerous. In
1835-86 the total revenue of the district was £365,744, of which
the land-tax yielded £305,850.
The early history qf Tinnevelli is mixed up with that of Madura
*nd Travancore. Dowu to 1781 it is a confused tale of anarchy
and bloodshed. In that year the nawab of Arcot assigned the
revenues to the East India Company, whose officers then undertook
the interna! administration of a^airs. Several risings subsequently
took place, and in 1801 the whole Camatic, including Tinnevelli,
was ceded to the British. Tinnevelli is now the most Christian
<iistrict of all India, both Roman Catholic and Protestant
TINNEVELLI, chief and largest town of the above dis-
trict, is situated 1 J miles from the left bank of the T4m-
brapaml in 8° 43' 47' N. lat. and 77° 43' 49" E. long.
The town was rebuilt about 1560 by VisvanAtha, the
founder of the Ndyakkan dynasty of Madura, who erected
many temples, ic., among them the great Siva temple.
Tinnevelli is an active centre of Protestant missions in
south India. In 1881 the population was 23,221 (10,963
males and 12,258 females).
TINTORETTO See Robusti.
TLPPERAH, a district of British India, in the Chitta-
gong division of the lieutenant-governorship of Bengal,
situated between 23° 0' and 24' 16' N. lat. and 90° 36' and
91° 39' E. long., with an area of 2491 square miles. It
is botuided on the N. by Maimansinh and Sylhet, on the
B. by NoAkhdll, on the W. by the river Meghna, separating
it from Maimansinh, Dacca, and BAkarganj, and on the E.
by the state of Hill Tipperah. The district presents a
continuous flat and open surface, with the exception of the
isolated LilmSi range (100 feet), and is for the most part
laid out in well-cultivated fields, intersected in all direc-
tions by rivers and kAah (creeks), which are partially
affected by the tides. In the lowlands the soil is uni-
formly light and sandy ; but in the higher parts a deep
alluvi%l soil alternates with bands of clay and sand. The
principal rivers are the Meghna, which is navigable through-
•ont the year for boats of 4 tons burden, and the Gumti,
DAkitii, and TitAs, which are ako navigable for craft of 4
tons for a considerable portion of their course. There are
many marshes or bhils. The principal road is the grand
trunk (63 miles), which traverses the district from east to
west. The wild animals include elephants, tigers, leopards,
I wild boars, jackals, and buflaJoes. The climate is mild,
■agreeable, and healthy.
I The population of the district m 1881 was 1, 51 9.338 (males 770,893,
ifemales 748.445) ; of theae Hindus numbered 511,02J, Mohammed-
-•DB 1,007,740, and Christians 199. There are only two towns
with more than 10,000 inhabitants each, viz., Comillah (13,372)
«nd BrihmAnbaria (17,438) Comillah ia the chief town of the
district and is situat^ on the south bank of the Gumri, in 23° 28'
N. lat and 91° 14' E. long. Rice is the staple crop of the district ;
wheat and ba/ley, Indian corn and millet, pease, gram, and several
«thei pulses are also cultivated, as well as betel-leaf and betel-nut,
«igar-cane, tobacco, ice. The chief exports are rice, jute, and betel-
nuts ; and the principal imports sugar, timber, cotton goods, cocoa*
nut oil, bamboos, spices, salt tobacco, &c. In 1885-86 the net
revenue of the district amounted to £181,481, the lan«-tax contri-
buiing £102,866. Tippkrah came under the East India Company
in 1765 ; but more than a fifth of its present area was under the
immediate rule of the raja of Hill Tipperah. who paid a tribute of
ivory and elephants. At that time Tipperah formed part of JalAl-
pur ; but in 1822 it was separated, and since then great changes
nave been mcde in its botmdaries. With the exception ofaseriou*
raid in 1860 by the Kukia or Lushdis, nothing has disturbed the
pea^je of the district
TIPFERARY, an inland county of Ireland, in the pro-
vince of Munster, is bounded N W. by Galway, N.E. by
King's county, E by Queen's County and Kilkenny, S by
Waterford, and W by Cork, Limerick, Clare, and Galway.
Its greatest length north to south, from the confluence of
the Little Brosna and the Shannon to the Knpckmealdown
Mountains, is 70 miles, and its greatest breadth west and
east 40. The area is 1,061,731 acres, or about 1659 square
miles.
The surface is extremely varied and picturesque. The
Knockmealdown Mountains on the southern border (2609
feet) are principally of clay slate formation. To the north
of this range are the picturesque Galtees, composed of
Silurian strata overlaid by Old Red Sandstone (Galtymore
3015 feet). To the east, bordering Kilkenny, are the
Slieveardagh Hills, composed of coalstone shales and sand-
stones, and near Templemore the Devil's Bit Mountains,
with a curious gap on the summit. In the north-west there
is a Silurian and sandstone group (Keeper Hill 2265 feet).
The greater part of the county is a gently undulating plain,
belonging to the central Carboniferous limestone plain of
Ireland. From the rich level country the rock of Cashel,
also composed of limestone, rises with great boldness and
abruptness. Tipperary has only one river, the Suir, which
has its source in the Devil's Bit Mountains, and flows south-
wards by Templemore, Thurles, Caher, and Clonmel. The
Nore, which also rises in the Devil's Bit Mountains, soon
passes into Queen's county, and the Shannon forms part
of the western border. A spur of the Leinster coal-field,
the most important in Ireland, runs into Tipperary, extend-
ing to Cashel, a distance of 20 miles with an average
breadth of 5 miles. All the measures are represented. The
productive portion of the field b at Killenaule. It con-
sists of a narrow trough ranging in a nortb-east direction,
the beds dipping towards the axis at a high angle. The
coal is anthracite and the seams are thin, the workable
portion being of limited extent. In the lower measures
are marine fossils, and plant impressions are numerous.
Copper is obtainable at Lackamore and at Hollyford near
Thurles, but only in small quantities. There is a vein of
lead at Shallee, and zinc has recently been dug in consider-
able quantities at Silvermines on the north side of the
Keeper Mountains. Manganese, malachite, galena, and
barytes are also obtainable. There are slate quarries at
Eallaloe. Between Caher and Clonmel are extensive de-
posits of fine pipe-clay. The Mitchelstown stalactite
caverns, discovered accidentally in 1833, attract a large
number of visitors.
AsricuUure. — Tipperary ranks among the best agricnltura) dis-
tricts of Ireland. The subsoil in the Tower grounds is limestoi.e,
which is overlaid by a rich calcareous loam, capable of yielding the
fineat crops. The centre of the county is occupied by the Golden
Vale, the most fertile district in Ireland, which stretches from
Cashel to the town of Limerick. On the higher districts-the soil ,
is light and thin, partaking much of the character of the clay sla'«
and sands on which it rests. Detached portions of the Bog of .Allei}
encroach on the north-eastern parts of the county. The total num-
ber of holdings in 1S85 was 23,763, of which 14,369 were under
80 acres in extent, — 4841 between 15 and 30 acres, 4444 between 5
and 16, 2861 between 1 and 5. and 2223 less than 1 acre. Of the
total area 24 '8 per cent was under crops, including meadow and ;
clover, 67*9 under grass, "1 fallow, 2'5 plantations, 49 bog and
marsh, 6*4 barren mountain land, and 3*4 water, roads, fences, itc
The area under corn crops decreased from 85.883 acres in 1876 ta
406
T I P — T I P
78,753 in 1885, the decrease 'havuig taken place sinee 1882, the
areas in the pr^rioiLs years having wen remarkably uniform The
area undpr wheat derroased from n.423 acrea in 1882 to 5474 in
1885, and th.it of oats from 57,3:i2 to 50,196 ' But the area under
barley, for which di^tiiiation tausps a steady demjind, lose from
13,551 acres in 1876 to 17,998 in 1885 The area un.ler gr^en
crops manifests also a tendency to decrease ; the tola! area in 18K5
Wis 5S,833 acres, 33,012 lieing under poutix-s, 19.196 tuniiivs. 2096
mangolds anf* IcptrO'tt, ati'i 4199 other gteen riojis The area
und' r ine;i'hiw and clover has le-^n stpaddy increasing. l»eing 1 14.149
in 1876 and 127,478 in 1885 The lotul ruinlK-r of horses in 1885
^,13 27,365, of whl'h 17.173 were useil for agriculture ; the number
of cattle 254,488. of whi* h 80,508 were nuh h cows, the manufac
ture of butter occupying consid>:rjbIe attpution ; of shepp 203.798,
pigs 80,475, goats 13 01 1, anl (.oultry 681,239 A'cording to the
Intest landowners' F'Otrrt (1876), the county was divide<l among
237^ propru'tors on-ning 1.012,457 acres of an annual value of
X676.683, the avenge valiie of the land being ijpaily Kls per acre.
The following possessed upwards of 10.000 ai les each . — viscount
Lisraora, 34,915; Lord Dunallev, 2l,«'l , <i K .S M Dawson,
19,093- Lady Murg.iret Chartcris, 16,617, maiquis of Oimonde,
15,7691 Vis-ount H,iwarden, 15,272, N Bui kley. 13,260; earl of
Clodmel, 11,098 ;• and A Moore, 10,200.
Afimufnctiirr^'i — A few persons aip employed iiiViining. but the
occupation of the inlial'll-ints is chndly agri'ullural There are a
coDsidcrahle numl>ei of meal and flour mills.
HoibDniji. — The county is rem:ukftl.ly well supplied vinlh rail-
^vays. A branch of the Great Southein and Western runs from
Roscrea to N'-n.tgh. wliere it joins a bran' li of the Limjerick and
W'aterford, which in its progri-ss south e.istwards fioro Limerick
crosses the southenj comer of the county by Liineiick Junction,
Tippprary, Caher, and Clonmel The oiain line of the Oreat
SoutliTin and WestPin to Cork and Killarney crosses the centre of
the coitnty l-y Tpmf'Icmore, Tburlcs, and Limerick Junction. A
lu.mch of the Limerick, and Wateiford connects Thurles with
CloumeL
A'l'ninuitrnlum onil PnpiCnUon — Tipperary is divided into a
north and .south ridiug. each consisting of six baronies. For parlia-
inpotary fKjipost-s it ls separated into four divisions — East, Mi-I,
North, and .South — each returtiing one member ]t contains 193
parishes and 3253 town laniis. It is in the Leinster circuit. Assizes
for the north riding are held in Nenagb and for the south riding
in Cloorael Quarter sessions are held at Cashel. Clonmel, Nenagh.
Roscroa, Thnrlcs, and Tipperary. There are twenty four petty
sessions districts ami parts of six others. The county is within the
Cork iiolitary dislriit Ec.-lesiastically it l>elong3 to the dioceses
of Ca-^hel, Einly. lijilaloe.and Lismore. Since 1841 the population
lias de(reasc-d more than one half Froru 435,553 in that year it
fell to 216,718 in 1871 and to 199,612 in 1881. The following
to>ers in 18M possessed over 4000 iiihabitantsfeach, viz — Clonmel
(partly in Watei fold). 9325; Tipi)erary,7274 ; Carrickon Suir (partly
in NVateiloid). 65S3 , Nenagh. 5422; and Thurles, 4850 Tlip
number of ('prions who could read and write was 115.185, who
could read ouly, 21,386; the icniaindcr— 60,041 — were unable to
reiid or \»n-ite. There were 2l8 persons who spoke Irish only and
23.5;.S able to spe.ik Irish as well as Englis'h.
H'^torij atid Antiqiniifis — Anciently Tipperary was included in
the territory of the Tiiatha De Danaun, and afterwar<ls probably
of the clan of Degrud Henry 11 , who landed at W.itprford in
Ocrolier 1 172. re- eivcd at Cashel the homage of Donald O'Brien, king
of TbomoncL It was niade a county by King John in 1210; in
1328 E'i^ard III made it a county palatine in favour of the e.irl
of Ormonde ; aud, lliough the king shortly afterwards resumed his
regal preroganve, the county was regranted in 1337. In 1372 Pie
cram was confiimcd to James, seconti earl of Ormonde, the lands
oelonging to the church retaining, however, a separate jurisdiction,
— a dicisiou which continued tUl the Restoration. In 1617 James
I took the county palatine into his own hands. It was, however,
restored in 1661 to James, twelfth earl and first duke, whose re-
galities were further made to include the portions of the county
foimerly under ecclesiastical jurisdiction. On the attainder of
James, second ddfee, in 1715 the jurisdiction reverted to the crown.
There are v»o Toiind towers within the county, — one at Roscrea
»nd the oileer on the Tock of Cashel. Of the old castles there are
few importHni examples. That built by the first eaci of Ormonde
fit Thurles has how disappeared. On the rock of Cashel there arc a
massive guard tower and some remains of the ancient wall. The
stronghold of Cipher, now occupied as a barrack, is still in good pre-
•ervation. At Roscroa one of the towers of the castle built by King
John still remains, and the stronghold of the Ormondes, erected in
the reign of Henry VIII., forms the depot attached to the barracks.
The ccclesia>tical ruins on the rock of Cashel are among the most
remarkable in Ireland, They consist of a cathedral in tne Pointed
•tyle of the 13th century, partly destroyed by fire in 1495 ; a curi-
ous 3axon chapel, ascribed to Cormac MacCuUinan, archbishop of
Cashel (b, 631); the bishop's palac« ; the "vicar's choral-bouse," —
•II on the summit of the rook ; and Hor« abbey at its foot, founded
for Benedictines in 1272. Tha abbey of Holy Cross was foundril
in 1182 for Cistercian monks, and is one of the finest monastic
niins in Ireland. The relic of the true cross, from which the abbey
takes its name, is in possession of the Catholic hierarchy of ths
district. The other [iriQcipal ecclesiastical ruins are the priory of
Aihassel, fiiunded for Augustinian monks about 1200, Fetbard
aiibey, foundpd in the Nth century, now used as a chapel , the
gable and p<jrph of the abbey of Roscrea. founded by St Cronan in
the 7th century , and a poitioti of the Franciscan friary founded
in the same town in 1490
TIPPER AR", a market town id the above couoly, ia
beautifully situated near the base of the Slieve-na muck
or Tipperary Hills, a branch of the Galtee range, on tha
Waterford and Limerick Railway, 3 miie.-i south-east of
Linfierick junction and 1 10 .southwest of Dublin, It con-
tains a handsome Protestant church, a Catholic chapel, aa
endowed grammar school, a town hall, and a new corn and
butter market Owing to its situation in the centre of a
fine agricultural district, it enjoys considerable prosperity,
■and its butter market ranks next to that of Cork The
town is of great antiquity, but first acquired importance
by the erection of a castle by King .Tohn, of which there
are now no remains. A monastery founded for Augustin.
ians by Henry III., which has also disappeared, gave a
second impulse to its growth. Formerly it was a corpora-
tion from agrant made in 1310 by Edward II , but is now
governed by commissioners under provision of the Towrr
Improvement Act of 18.54. The population in 1871 wa»
6638, and in 1881 it was 7274.
TIPPOO SAHIB (1749-1799), sultan of Mysore, was
the son of Hvber Ali (qv), and was born in 1749 He
received a careful Mohammedan education, and was in-
structed in military tactics by the French officers in the
employment of his father. In J767 in the invasion ot
the Carnatic he commanded a corps of cavalry, and he
subsequently distinguished himself in the Mahratta War
of 1775-79. On the outbreak of the ficst My.sore War in
1780 he was put at the head of a large body of troops,
with which he achieved several successes; in particular ha
entirely defeated 'Bratbwaite on the banks of the Coleruu
in February 1782. He succeeded his father in December
1782, and in 1784 concluded a treaty of peace with the
English. In the same year he assumed the title of sultan.
In 1787-88 he subjugated the Nairs of Malabar, and in
1 789 provoked EngUsh invasion by ravaging the territories
of the rajah of Travancore. When the English entered
Mysore' in 1790, he ' retaliated by a counter-invasion, but
he was ultimately compelled by Cornwallis's victory at
Ari]<era, near Seringapatam, to purchase peace by the
cession of the half of his dominions (16th March 1792).
The English having deemed it necessary to renew hostilities
in March 1799, be was in less than two months shut up
in Seringapatam and accidentally killed during the siege
(4th May 1799). See India, vol. xii. pp. 803-4.
TIPTON, a town of England, in Staffordshire, is situated
in the valley of the Stour, on the Loudon and North-
western Railway, 4i miles south-east of Wolverhampton
and 121 north-west of London. It is built in a somewhat
scattered and irregular manner, with coal-pits and iron,
and other •works interspersed. Branches of the Birming-
ham Canal supply it with water communication. It de-
pends chiefly on its iron manufactures, especially of a
heavy kind, and has numerous large furnaces and roUing-
mllls. Its principal goods are rails, engine-boilers, tubes,
fenders, and fire-irOns. It also possesses works for making
iron bridges and stations, cement-works, brick-works, and
maltings. There are no public buildings of importance.
Tipton has six churches. The parish church is of very
ancient cate, and its registers go back to the year 1513.
Formerly the town was sometimes called Tibbington.
It is tinder the government of a local board formed ia
1866. The population of the urban sanitarj di«*rict
T I R— T I R
407
^ 30,013.'
TlRABOSCHl, GiEOLiMO (1731-1794), the first his-
torian of Italito literature, was born at Bergamo on 18th
becember 1731.vHe studied at the Jesuit college at Monza,
jctcred the order, and was appointed in 1755 professor of
eloquence in the university of Milan. Here he produced
(1766-68) Vetera SumUiatorum ilonurtierUa (3 vols.), a his-
tory of the extinct order of the Umiliati, which gave him
it once a distinguished place in literature. Nominated
in 1 7 70 librarian to Francis III., duke of Modena, he turned
to rxcount the copious materials there accumulated for the
composition of hiS Storia delta Letteralura Jtaliana. This
vast work, ir. which the progress of Italian literature from
the time iii the Etruscans to the end of the 17th century
is traced in detail, occupied eleven assiduous years, 1771-
8°, and the thirteen quarto volumes embodying it appeared
successively at Modena during that period. A second en-
larged edition (16 vols.) was issued from 1787 to 1794,
and was succeeded by many others, besides abridgments
in German, French, and English. - Tiraboschi died at
Modena on 3d June 1794, leaving a high. reputation for
virtue, learning, and piety.
Tiraboschi wrote besides Bii/io««ea'i/«tm«<"(6 vols.,'1781-85)T
J^oiizii dtf* Putcriy ScuUori, Incisori^ ed ArchiUtXi Modenesi (1786)'
Hcmorit SCorictu Modeiusi (5 vols., 1793-94), and many minor
vorka. He edited the Xucvo Gitrmalt dei LeiUrati d' Italia (1773-
pO), and left materials for a work of great research entitled Dizion-
urio Top<igrafico-St43TW> dcgli St^i^£st£nsi (2 vols. 4to. Modena,
1824-25).
TIRESIAS,'a famous Theban seer of Greek legend, was
a son of Everes and Chariclo, and a descendant of Udaeus,
one of the men who had sprung up from the serpent's
teeth sown by Cadmus. He was blind, for which various
tauses were alleged. Some said that the gods had blinded
him because he had fevealed to men what they ought not
to know. Others said that Athene (or Artemis) blinded
him because he had seen her naked ; when his mother
prayed Athene to restore his sight, the goddess instead
purged his ears so that he could understand the speech of
birds and gave him a staff wherewith to guide his steps.
Another story was that on Moiint Cyllene (or on Cythaerum)
he saw two snakes coupling ; he killed the female and
became himself a woman. Seven years afterwards he saw
the same sight, and killing the male became himself a man
again. When Zeus and Hera disputed whether more
pleasure was enjoyed by the male or the female sex, they
re/erred the question to Tiresias, as he had experience of
both. He decided in favour of the female sex, and Hera
in her anger blinded hijn ; but Zeus gifted him with long
life and infallible divination. He lived for seven or,
according to others, nine ■generations.' In the war of the
Seven against Thebes he foretold to the Thebans that they
would be victorious if Menoeceus offered himself in sacrifice.
In the war of the Epigoni he advised the Thebans to flee.
They Sed, and he with them ; but coming to the Tilphusian
well he drank of it and died. According to others, Tiresias
was taken prisoner by the" victorious Argives and died
while they were taking him to Delphi. ■ The Argives took
his daughter Manto (or Daphne) prisoner and sent her to
'Apollo at Delphi, where, being as .^killed a seer as her
father, she gave oracles. A different version of the legend
of Tiresias was given by the elegiacLpoet Sostratus (reported
by Eustathioa on Od., x. 492). -Ac«)rding to him, Tiresias
Was originally a girl, but had been changed into a boy by
Apollo at the age of seven ; after undergoing several more
transformations from one sex to the other, she (for the
^al sex was feminine) was turned into a mouse and her
Jover Arachnus into a weasel Tiresias'a grave was at the
(Tilphusian -spring; bat there was a cenotaph of him at
Tliebes, where also in later times his ."observatory," or
place loi w-itching for omens, was pointed out He hacf
■an oracle at Omhomenus, but during a plague it became
silent and remained so in Plutarch's time. According to
Homer, Tiresias was the only person ia the world of the
dead whom Proserpine allowed to retain intelligence. He
figured in the great paintings by Polygnotus in the Lesche
at Delphi, The story of his transformation into a woman
is perhaps to be explained by the custom of medicine-men
dressing like women, which prevails in Borneo, Patagonia,'
Kadiak (off Alaska), and probably elsewhere.'
TIRHUT, or Tiehoot, a district of British India, was
formerly the largest and most populous in Bengal. On
1st January 1875 it was divided into the two districts of
Darbhangah and Muzaffarpur. For the latter, see Muzat-
PAHPcrs. The former, with an area of 3335 square miles,'
lies between 25° 30' and 26° 40' N. lat. and 85° 34' and
86° 46' R long., and is bounded on the N. by Nepal^ on
the E. by Bhigalpur, on the S. by Monghyr, and on the
W. by Muzaffarpur. The population of Darbhangah in
1881 was 2,633,447 (males 1,295,788, females 1,337,659);
of these Hindus numbered 2,323,979, Mohammedans
308,985, and Christians 325. Its chief toivns are Dar-
bhangah, the capital, with 65,955 inhabitants; Madhu-
bani, 11,911; and Eusera, 11,578. The total revenue of
Darbhangah district in 1885-86 araoiinted. to £157,037. of
which the land revejlue yielded w£80,44'3.
The alluTial tract of country formerly known as Tirhnt is varied
by undulations, with groves, orchards, and woods. The principal
rivers are the Ganges, Gandak, Baghmati. Tiljugi, and Karai, which
are rarely navigable, except during the rainy season, when they are
mostly rapid and dangerooa. Tirhut produces all sorts of crops,'
rice being the principal ; others are wbeat, barlej', maiz'e, oil-seeds,
&c. ; opium and tobacco are largely grown for export. The chief
industries include the manufacture of indigo, saltpetre, coarse doth,
pottery, and mats. The Tirhat State Railway runs from Mokameh
on the left bank of the Ganges through Darbhangah and Muzaf-
farpur districts north-west into Champaran district as far as Bettia.'
A ferry over the Ganges, at Mokameh tonneets it with the East
Indian JtaUway. There are two^ branches, one extending^ from
Muzafifarpur south-west to Hajipur (to be connected with the Bengal
and North-'Western Railway at Sonapur by a bridge over the Gan.
dak), the other (226 miies open for trafcc- in March 1886) from
Samaatipur via Darbhangah to Janjarpur, from which it will ex-
tend eastwards to Partabganj, a mart upon the Kosi river near the
Nepal frontier.
TERLEMOKT (Flem. Thimen), a. town of Belgium,~in
the province of Brabant, 29| miles by rail to the east of
Brusseb, on the Great Geete. 'The old walls, dismantled
since 1804, are nearly 6 miles in circuit, but enclose a
large extent of arable and garden ground. The streets
are regular, and there are some spacious squares ; the
market-place contains the town-hall, recently restored, and
the church of Notre Dame du Lac^ founded in 1298, en-
larged in the 15th century, but etill unfinished. The
church of St Germain dates partly from the 9th century^
The industries of the place inchide the making of steam-
engines, brewing, distilling, soap-making, tanning, and
various woollen and cotton manufactures.. The population
in 1876 was 13,296.
Tirlemont was once a much lai^r and more flonrishing tows
than it now is ; it has suffered much in war and was taken by the
French in 1635, by Marlborough in 1705, and again by the French
in 1793. John Holland, the famous editor nf the Acta Sav^torum^
was bom here in 1596.
TERYNS, the Ti'pri-s reix^ovTo-a of Homer (Ic, li. 659),
was a small Peloponnesian city, in the prehistoric period
of the Achaean race, long before the Dorian immigration.
It stood on a small rock in the marshy -plain of Argolis.
about 3 miles from_ the sea, and was •fabled to have
i On this custom see Journals of James Brooke of Sara-wok^ ii. p.
65 tq. ; H. Low, SaraMxik, p. 176 tq.\ Perelaer, Kthnogr. Betchrijving
dtr Dajaks, p. 32 k[. ; Carl Book, Head Hunters of Borneo, p- 222 n. ;
Fulkner, Lescriptum of Patagonioy p. 117;, TVani £iJinoli>g. Soe.'
L<md., new serits, vii. p. 323; Holmberg, J^EAnogr. Skizieo," ia
1 Acta fSoc Mont. JFenrMx, ir. p. 400 tq.
408
T I R Y N S
oeen founded by King Proetus, the brother of Acrisius,
■rfho was succeeded by the hero Perseus. It was the scene
of the early life of Heracles, who is hence called Tiryn-
iLius. The massive walls were said to have been the
work of Cyclopean masons. Its period of greatest splen-
dour was during the 11th and 10th centuries B.C.; but
the city continued to exist till about 468 B.C., when it was
destroyed through the jealousy Of the inhabitants of the
neighbouring Argos,' who had not assisted in the final de-
feat of the Persians at Plataea.'^
Excavations made in 1884-85 by Schliemann and
Dorpfeld over part of the rock on which Tiryns stood have
exposed a most interesting building, quite unique as an
example of a Greek palace of the lllh or 10th century
B.C., and of special interest from the way in which it closely
illustrates the Homeric palaces of Alcinous and Odysseus,
and throws a new light on scenes such as the slaughter of
the suitors {Od., xxi. and xxii.).
Fio. 1.— PlflD of the palace in the upper part of Tiryns. 1. Main gate in the
outer walJ. C. Inuer gate, approached between massive walla. 3 Main
propyljeari 6 Inner propylffiora, 6. Court(av\Tj)of the men, surrounded
by a colonoade on ttree aides ; the altar to Zeua Herceua la by the entrance.
6, AtSovca, portico of the men's megaroD. 7. np65o^io5, inner porch. 8.
Mens megarou. with roof supported on four columns, and the circular hearth
in the middle 9. Bath-room and small daXdfxoi, 10, 10. Chambers round
the great court. U, 11. Guard chambers by the main propylaeum. 12.
Passage {\avp7}) from the main propylaeum to the women's part. 13> 13.
Courts of the women. 14. Women's megaron. 15. Chambers (daXi/ioi)
in the women's part. 16. Passage from women's part to the rock-cut stnirs.
17. Small postern door In the semicircular bastion, approached by flight of
rock-cut steps 18,18. Massive outer wall of city. 19. Inner wall to guard
^le entrance passage. 20. Part of outer wall, with intermediate passage and
-t)we of chambers, as shown in flg. 2.
The rock on which Tir3Tis is built, ig of an irregular oval shape,
about 330 yards long uy 1]2 at the widest part, and 's surrounaed
* Homer {/I., ii. 559) speaks of the Tirynthians as subject to Argos.
* See Diod., iv. 10 ; Paus., ii. 25 ; and Herod., vi. 83, ix. 28. Schlie-
mauD {Tinjns, London, ISStJ) and Mahaffy (in Bermathena, Dublin),
however, deny the truth of this statement, believing that Tiryns ceased
to exist some centuries earlier, in spite of the strong evidence given by
the inscription on the bronze column {now in Constantinople), formed
by three twisted serpents, which once supported the golden tripod
dedicated to Apollo out of the spoils from Plataa. Tiryns occurs in
the list of allied states present at that battle ; moreover, recent dis-
coveries have brought to light remains of an important building of
about 600 B.C.
like ^
by a very massive wall, varj'ing from 30 to 40 feet in tWctilfli^,
and a\eraging when complete about 50 feet in height, measormg, ■
from its base outaids. Inside, the wall was probably not mora'
than 10 or 12 feet high above the ground, '•o the masonry acts as
u retaining wall to a considerable depth of earth which covers tho
rock (see fig. 2 below). The wall is built of very large hammer- .
dressed blocks, some as much as 10 feet long by 3 feet 3 inchta or>
3 feet 6 inches wide, with smaller ones to fill up the interstices.!
The whole was bedded, not in mortar, but in clay, which hua
mostly been washed out of the joints ; originally the surface wa»
probably protected with a cciting of stucco. The only important
gateway, which was on the east side, away from the sea, probably
resembled the "lion gate" at Mycense. The other entrances ar*
mere slits in the wall. One of these and the chief gate are shown
in fig. 1. Internally the area of the city was divided by cross walla
into three parts at successive levels. The lowest and middle divi- .
siona have not yet been excavated ; the upper part at the south,
^nd of the rock was completely exposed in 1884-85 by Schliemanik,
and Dorpfeld, and the almost complete plan of the various struc*
tures clearly made out. This division contains the palace of th*
ruler of Tiryna, a building which shows careful and skilful con*
Btruction, elaborate decoration, and a well-arranged plan, <«uitabl»
to the wants of a wealthy autocratic chief, who lived in i n^anner
which partly recalls the luxury of an Oriental king, and al&> re-
sembled the feudal state of a mediaeval baron, surrounded b)* a
crowd of vassals. From the main gate, which was defended by t.%
tower, a strong passage led between the outer wall and an inne-t
one to an inner gate, thence to a propylaeum or double porch, with
two wooden columns on each side,^ adjoining which were chambers
for guards. Then came another similar, but smaller propylaeum^
*and opposite to that was the entrance to the great court (auXiiX
nearly 53 by 70 feet, in which stands the altar to Zeus Hercens,
with a circular pit beneath it to catch the victims' blood. This
court was surrounded by wooden columns supporting a roof, ''*"> •-
medieval cloister ;
on the south side are
chambers for attend-
ants (^aXd/ioi). On
the north side is the
great hall {yjiyapov *),
with an outer portico
supported by two
columns {oldovoa)
and an inner vesti-
bule (ir^So^os) with
three doors.* The
hall is about 40 by
30 feet, with a cir-
cular hearth-stone in
the centre (iarta or
iax^po.). Four col-
umns supported the
roof, the central part
of which probably
-ose above the rest
like a mediaeval
'* lantern" ; and in
this there was prob-
ably a door leading
out c:> the flat roof
round it — possibly
the dpcodufrrj of
Homer (Oif., xxii.
126), through which
one of the suitors
escaped and so got
arras from the treasury or annonry, which was on an upper fioor
(see Od., xxii. 142 and xxi, 5). On the west side of the nail are a
number of small chambers (^aXd/wt) for the unmarried men, and
a bath-room about i2 by 10 ft t, with its floor formed of one great
slab of stone, sloped so as to drain out at one side through a pipe
which passes through the wall. The women's pai . of the house
is of equal importance to that of the men, and has its hall and
two open courts with pillars. It is approached in a very cir*
cuitous way,* either by a passage {\avp7}) leading from a sida
Fio. 2.— Section through the cuter wall df the city at,
20 in fig. 1. A. Outer base of wall R Inside level ;
of city. C. Intermediate platform for the garrisoiL
D. Chambers opening on to it, with roof formed of
projecting courses of stone in large blocks. E. Top
of main wall, paved with clay, level with the inside.
F. Wooden columns on existing stone bases, form-
ing a porticus or covered walk along the top of tha
wall. G. Outer wall of the colonnade built of brick,
now missing. H. Probable roof of the colonnada
of wood, covered with beaten clay.
' The arrows in fig. 1 show the way from the city gate to the pala*^
court and hail.
* The women's hall is also called the megaron ; see Od. , rvui. 198L (
* The Trp65ofioi is mentioned by Homer (77.,ix. 473, and Orf., iT.
302) ; but in the palace of Odysseus the aXdovffa seems to have been tha
only vestibult to the megaron. In several respects the palace ol Tiryns
is more magnificent than that of Odysseus, whose hall was paved with
clay, not concrete as at Tiryns ; see Od., xxi. 122, where Telemaciina
&^<pl 5i yaiav (va^t, after cutting a trench to fix the row of axes.
* The way to the harem in a modem Oriental house is filmJlad? .
made as circuitous as possible, for the sake of privacy.
T IS — T I S
409
ooor in the main propylseum or by another long passage' which
winds round the ''■sck of the' men's hall, and so leads by a long
flight of steps, cut inVUie rock, to the little postern door in the
semicircular bastion. vXhe ftiany small rooms in this part of the
palace were probably the bedroonks of the women and married
couples of the chiers family.. A staircase at 16 led to an .upper
floor, like the nXifmi u^tjXi) of Od. xxl 5. The circuit wall round
the palace is more strongly constructed than the rest On the
south side it is built in two offsets, forming a level platform for the
garrison halfway up. lu the uppr and thinner part of the wall
two narrow passages at different levels are formed m its thickness.
They are rooted, by projecting courses of slone in large blocks. The
waM on the east side has a similar intermediate platform, on to
which open a series of small chambers formed in the mass of the
upper wall (see fig 2). At the top level the wall was covered by a
colonnads of » oo3 pillars resting on circular stone blocks. This
supported a fiat roof and was open to the inside of the city. The
back of the colonnnde was built of brick, and is now missing, as
are all the brick parts of the city, owug to the bricks having been
only sun-dried.
The methods of construction employed in the Tirj-ns palace are
of the highest interest The foundations and about 3 feet of the
Tails above the ground are made of large blocks of stone bedded in
clay ; above this the wall was of brick, sun-dried-, and covered with
stuc<X). The upper story was probably of wood. Some of the
thresholds of the doors were massive blocks of stone (XdiVor ovS6t) ;
others were of wood {SpCii'm oM^). Wood was also used for all the
columns, doorposts, and ants (irapo^rrddes), and in some cases the
walls of the rooms were Lned with wood, carefully fixed by dowels,
the holes for which still exist* The doors bad pivots of bronze re-
volving in well fitted bronze cup-like sockets let into the thresholds.
In the megaron and other rooms the fioors are of good concrete,
decorated with a simple series of incised lines, coloured blue and
red. The stucco bf the internal wall is decorated with bold and
very effective patterns — birds aud scroll-work of semi -Oriental
style ; in many cases the motives are obviously taken from textile
ornaments, as in the most archaic style of vase painting. One
example of rich and costly decoration remains, — part of a frieze of
white alabaster, sculptured in relief with rosettes and interlacing
patterns, and studded with jewel-like pieces of blue glass or enameU
the dptyxdi Kvdvoio of Od. vii 87.^ Further excavations in the
lower parts of the city will, probably bring to light the dwellings
of the citizens who garrisoned the place. The great bulk of the
Tiryntbians must have lived in houses outside the citadel, but
under the shelter of its protection, just as in mediseval Italy villages
grew up round the castles of any powerful lord.^ (J. H. M. )
TISCHENDORF,* Lobegott Feiedrich KoNSTAiJTiN
(1815-1874), an eminent Biblical critic, the son of a
physician, was bom on 18th January 1815 at Lengenfeld,
near Plauen, in the Sason Voigtland. From the gym-
nasium at Plauen he passed in 1834 to the university of
Leipsic, where he was mainly influenced by Winer, and
began to take special interest in New Testament criticism.
In 1840 he qualified as university lecturer' in theology
with a dissertation on the recensions ' of the New Testa-
ment text, the main part of which reappeared in the follow-
ing year in the prolegomena to his first edition of the
New Testament. The importance of these early textual
studies was that they convinced him of the absolute neces-
sity of new and exacter collations of MSS., and to this
work he now gave himself. Above all he desired to go to
Rome; but lack of help and money compelled him to turn
first towards Paris, where he remained from October 1840
till January 1843, busy with the treasures of the great
library, eking' out his scanty means by making collations
for other scholars, and producing for Didot several editions
of the Greek New Testament, one of them exhibiting the
form of the text corresponding most closely to the Vulgate.
The great triumph of these laborious months was the de-
cipherment of the palimpsest Codex Ephraemi Hescripius,
of which the New Testament part was printed before he
left Paris and the Old Testament in 1845. His success
in dealing with a MS. much of which had been illegible
* TLe marks of the wooden wall linings are specially clear in the
little 'oath-room
* The genuineness of this line has been questioned, but apparently
without much reason.
* In modern Itali-an castello means a " village" as well as a" castle,"
* In 1869 he became Konslaiitin von Tischendorf, having been raised
to a place in the hereditary nobility of Russia.
23—16*
tojcarlier collators brought him into note and gained publio
and private support for more extended critical expeditions.
From Paris he had paid short visits to Holland (184 1) and
England (1842). In 1843 he visited Italy, and after a
stay of thirteen months went on to Egypt, Sinai, Palestine,
and the Levant, returning by Vienna and Munich,* From
Sinai he brought a great treasure, forty-three leaves of
what is now known as the Codex Sinaitiau (k). For the
time he kept the place of discovery a secret, hoping to
return and procure the rest of the book, and the ^gments
were published in 1846 as the Codex Friderico-Augustanus,
a name given in honour of the king of Saxony. • He now
became professor in Leipsic and married (1845). His
teaching was apparently not very remarkable ; but his
vacations were often occupied by fruitful critical journeys,
and in 1853 and 1859 be made a second and a third
voyage to the East. In the last of these, in which he had
the active aid of the Russian Government, he at length got
access to the remainder of the precious Sinaitic codex, and
persuaded the monks to present it to the czar, at -whose
cost it yas published in 1862. To gain for critical study
a manuscript in point of age second only to the famous
Vatican Bible was a splendid triumph, but Tischendorf's
Eastern journeys were rich enough in other less sensational
discoveries to deserve the highest praise.^ Side by side
■with his industry in collecting and collating MSS., Tischen-
dorf pursued a constant course of editorial labours, mainly
on the New Testament, until he was broken down by over-
work in 1873. He died on 7th December 1874 at Leipsic.
The great edition, of which the text and apparatus appeared in
1869 and 1872,' was called by himself edi(io nit. ; but this number
is raised to twenty or twenty-one if mere reprints from stereotype
plates and the minor editions of his great critical texts arc included ;
posthumous prints bring up the total to forty-one. Four main
recensions of 'rischendorfs text may be distinguished, dating respect-
ively from his edirions of 1841,1849, 1859(eii. »ti.),1869-72 (erf. viii.).
The edition of 1849 may be regarded as historically the most
important from the mass of new critical material it used ; that of
18u9 is distinguished fjom TischendorTs other editions by coming
nearer to the received text ; in the eighth edition the testimony of
the Sinaitic SIB. received great (probably too great) weight. The
readings of the Vatican US. were given ^vilh more eyactness and
certainty than had been possible in the earlier editions, and the
editor had also the advantage of using the published labours of
Tregelles. ^Vhatever judgment may be passed on Tischendorfs
critical tact and power, the apparatus of this final edition will not
soon be superseded, and sums up a vast series of most important
services to Biblical study.
Much less important was Tischendorfs work on the Greek Old
Testament His edition of the Romau text, with the variants of
the Alexandrian MS., the Codex Ephraemi, aud the Fridcrico-
Augustanus, was of service when it appeared in 1850, bat being
stereotyped was not greatly improved m subsequent issues. Its
imperfections, even within the limited field it covers, may be judged
of by~the aid of Nestle's appendix to the sixth issue (1880). Besides
this may be mentioned editions of the New Testament Apocrypha
{Acls of Apostles, 1851 ; Gospels, 1853, 2d ed. 1876 ; Apocalypses.
1866), and various minor writings, in part ofan apologetic character,
such as IFann wurdcn unsere Evangdien vcrfasst? ( 1865) and .ffaien
■wir den echien Sckri/Uexi der Evangelisten uiid Apostel f (1873).
TISIO, or Tisi, BEm-ENUTO (1481-1559), commonly
called II Gakofalo, a painter of the Ferrarese school
He was bom in 1481 at Garofolo, in the Ferrarese terri-
tory, and /lonstantly used the gillyflower {garofalo) as a
sjTnboI with which to sign his pictures. He took to draw-
ing in childhood, and was put to study under Domenico
Panetti (or Laneto), and afterwards at Cremona under his
maternal uncle, Niccol6 Soriani, a painter of credit, who
died in 1499; he also frequented the school of Boccaccio
^ See bis Reise in den Orient, Leipsic, 1845-46.
' The MSS. brought to Europe on the first two journeys are cat*-'
logued in \.\it Anecdota Sacra et^rof ana (Leipsic, 1 855. enlarged 1861).
See also the Monumenta Sacra Inedita (Leipsic, 1846), and A'mn
Colleclio of the same (1855-69). The thu-d volume of the .A'ova CUt,
gives the results of his last Eastern journey [
' The prolegomena remained unfinished at his death, and ar« being
jsunplied by C. R. Gregory.
XXUL — 52
410
T I T — T I T
Boccaccino. Removing to Rome, he stayed fifteen months
with Giovanni Baldini, acquiring a solid style of draughts-
manship, and finally to Mantua, where he remained two
years with Lorenzo Costa. He then entered the service of
the marquis Francesco Gonzaga. Afterwards he went to
Ferrara, and worked there four years, showing diligence
and delicacy without much severity or elevation of style.
Attracted by Raphael's fame, and invited by a Feri:arese
gentleman, Geronimo Sagrato, he again removed to Rome,
and found the great painter very amicable ; here he stayed
two years, rendering some assistance in the Vatican frescos.
From Rome family affairs recalled him to Ferrara , there
Ehike Alphonso I. commissioned him to execute paintings,
along with the Dossi, in the Villa di Belriguardo and in
other palaces. Thus the style of Tisio partakes of the
Lombard, the Roman, and the Venetian modes. He painted
extensively in Ferrara, both in oil and in fresco, two of his
principal works being the Massacre of the Innocents (1519),
in the church of S. Francesco, and the Betrayal of Christ
(1524), accounted his masterpiece. For the former he made
clay models for study and a lay figure, and executed every-
thing from nature. Both in the Ferrarese territory and in
Rome his fiictures of small dimensions are very numerous.
He continued constantly at work until in 1550 blindness
overtook him, — an affliction which he bore with patience,
being a man of pleasant friendly disposition and of devout
feeling. La the later years of his work he painted on all
feast-days in monasteries for the love of God. He had
married at the age of forty-eight and died at Ferrara on
6th (or 16th) September 1559, leaving two children.
Garofalo combined sacred inventions with some very^ familiar
details. A certain archaism of style, along with a strone glow of
colour, suffices to distinguish from the true method of Raphael even
those pictures in which he most closely resembles the great master,
and this is sometimes very closely. He was a friend of Giulio
Romano, Giorgione, Titian, and Ariosto ; in a picture of Paradise
he painted this poet between St Catherine and St Sebastian. In
youth he was fond of lute-playiag and also of fencing. Ha ranks
as the best of the Ferrarese painters ; his leading pupil was Giro-
lamo Carpi. The Adoration of the Magi, in the church of St
George near Ferrara, and a Peter Martyr, in the Dominican church,
Ferrara (sometimes assumed to have been done in rivalry of Titian),
are among his principal works not already mentioned. The Palazzo
Chigi and the Palazzo Borghese contain numerous examples, and
the London National Gallery four, one of them being a Madonna
and Christ enthroned, with St Francis and three other saints.
TITANIUM (atomic weight ' = 48 08, 0=16), desig-
nates in chemistry a relatively rare element, which ia cus-
tomarily classed with the metals, although it comes nearer
in its character to silicon than to any of the ordinary
metals. Its discovery as an element was due to William
Gregor, who found in the mineral menaccanite a new earth,
which was regarded as the oxide of a new metal, menachin.
Independently of him Klaproth in 1793 discovered a new
metal in rutile and called it titanium ; he subsequently
found that it was identical with Gregor's element. The
latter name was, however, retained. Titanium, although
pretty widely diffused throughout the mineral kingdom,
is not found in abundance. The commonest titanium
raineral is rutile (TiOj) ; anatase and brookite, though
mineralogically different from rutile and each other, are
forms of the same binoxide.
Metallic titanium is little known. In 1822 Wollaston examined
a specimen of those beautiful copper-like cryBtals which are occa-
flionally met with in iron -furnace slags, and declared them to be
metallic titanium. This view had currency until 1849, when
■Wohler showed that the crystals are a compound, Ti(NC), -I- 3Ti,N^
of a cyanide and a nitride of the metal. Real titanium was made
ty Wohler and Deville in 1857 by heating to redness fiuo-titanate
of potassium (see below) in vapour of sodium in an atmosphere of
dry hydrogoa, and eitracting the alkaline fluoride formed by water.
The metal thus produced had the appearance of iron as obtained
by the reduction of its oxide in hydrogen. When heated in air,
H bonis brilliantly, with the formation of binoxide. Its most curi-
' According to T. £. Thorpe's researches, published in IR*"
ous property is the readiness with which it onites with nitrogen gas
into a nitride. The exact composition of this nitride is not known ;
but when heated in hydrogen it loses part of its nitrogen as am-
monia, and becomes Ti^N^ a metallic-looking yellow solid, and this
when heated in nitrogen gas passes into higher nitrides, which are
again available for the production of ammonia. Tessie du Mothay
in 1872 proposed to utilize these reactions for the production of
ammonia from atmo^heric nitrogen. Of other titanium compounds
the most important are those formed on the type of TiXj, when
X = Cl,Br, or 40, ic.
The binoxide TiOi exists as rutile One method of preparing a
purer oxide from the mineral is to fose it, very -finely powdered,
with six times its weight of bisulphate of potash in platinum, then
extract the fuse with cold water, and boil the filtered solution for
a long time. Titanic oxide separates out as a white hydrate, which,
however, is generally contaminated with ferric hydrate and often
with oxide of tin, SnOj. A better method is Wbhler's. He fiises
the finely powdered mineral with twice its weight of carbonate of
potash in a platinum crucible, pounds the fuse, and treats it in a
platinum basin with aqueous hydrofluoric acid. The alkaline titan
ate first produced is converted into crystalline fluo-titanate, TiF^K^
which is with difficulty soluble, and is extracted with hot water
and filtered off. The filtrate, which may be collected in glass
vessels if an excess of hydrofluoric acid has been avoided, deposits
the greater part of the salt on cooling. The crystals are collected,
washed, pressed, and recrj'stallized, whereby the impurities are easily
removed. The pure salt ia dissolved in hot water and decomposed
with ammonia to produce a slightly ammoniacal hydrated oxide ;
this, when ignited in plarinum, leaves pure TiO, in the form of
brownish lumps, the specific gravity of which varies from 8*9 to
4 '25, according to the temperature at which it was kept in igmring.
The more intense the heat the denser the product The oxide u
fusible only in the oxy-hydrogen flame. It is insoluble in all acids,
except in hot concentrated sulphuric, when finely powdered. Sup-
posing the excess of vitriol to nave been boiled away, the residue,
after cooling, dissolves ia cold water The solution, if boiled, de-
posits its titanic oxide as a hydrate called meta-titanic acid, 'be-
cause it diflers in its properties from ortho-titanic acid, obtained
by decomposing a solution of the chloride in cold water with alka-
lies. The ortho-body dissolves in cold dilute acids ; themeta-body
does not If titanic oxide is fused with excess of alkaline carbonate
it expels CO, parts of carbonic acid for TiO, parte of itsel£ The
salt EjOTiO, is decomposed by water with the formation of a solu-
tion of alkali free of titanium, and a residue of an acid titanste,
which is insoluble in water but soluble in cold aqueous mineral
acids.
Tht ehloriie TiClf is obtained as a distillate by heating to dell
redness an intimate dry mixture of the binoxide and ignited lamp-
black in dry chlorine. The reaction may be carried out in a hard
glass tube. For methods of purification we refer to the handbooks
of chemistry. The pore chloride is a colourless liquid of 1 7604
8T>ecific gravity at 0°C., boiling at 136°'4 under 763 '3 mm. pressure
(T. E. Thorpe). It fumes strongly in moist air. When dropped
very cautiously into cold water it dissolves into e clear solution,
which, however, when boiled, deposits most of its oxide in the
meta- hydrate form. There are, at least, two lower chlorides of
titanium, — one of the composition TijCl, and another of the com-
position TiCl^ both solids- and both extremely prone lo pass into
titanic compounds. A soluricn of the tetrachloride in water, as
well as of the soluble hydroxide in dilute acid generally, when kept
in contact with metallic zinc, is reduced to one of the lower chlorides
with development of a violet colour. With regard to the detection
of titanium we need not add much to what we have already given
incidentallv. Acid solutions of TiO, are not precipitated by sul-
phuretted hydrogen ; but sulphide of ammonium acts on them as
if it were ammonia, the H,S oeiog liberated. Oxide of titanium
when fused with microcosmic salt (i.e., NaPO.) in the oxidizing
flame yields a bead which is yellowish in the neat but colourless
after cooling. In the reducing Same the bead becomes violet, more
readily on the addition of tin , in the presence of iron it becomes
blooc -red. Titanic oxides when fused on charcoal, even with cyan-
ide ot potassium, yield no metal.
TITANS, powerftj beings of Greek mythology, the
children of Sky and Earth. According to Hesiod, the mala
Titans were Oceanus, Coeus, Crius, Hyperion, lapetus, and
Cronus; the female were Thea, Rhea, Themis, Mnemosyne^
Phoebe, and Tethys, to whom Apollodonis adds Dione.
For the rebellion of the Titans against their father Sky
(Uranus), the success and reign of Cronus, and the final
consignment of the Titans to Tartarus by Zeus, see Mytho-
looy; vol rvii. p. 155, and Satttrn, vol xxL p. 320 tq.
TITHES. It has been explained in Sacbificb (vol
zxi. p. 133) that among ancient peoples sacrificial gifts
freijuently assume the character of a tribute in kind, paid!
T 1 T H E S'
411;
I
fo the deity id aoknowledginent of the fruits of the land,
or the increase of flocks attributed to his blessing. At
first this tribute is not measured or enforced by law . the
gift IS a voluntary one, the magnitude of wUich may be
fbfd by a vow, or influenced by public opinion as to what
is reasonable, but is not prescribed by any stated authority
having power to exact what is prescribed. In the oldest
Hebrew legislation sacrificial gifts to Jehovah (firstling
and firstfruiu) are demanded , but apart from the consecm-
tioQ of the firstluigs, which is imperative (Elxod. xxii 29
tq , xsxiv. 19 sq ), the amount is not fixed. In Deutero-
nomy (xiv 22 siji ), on the other hand, the tithe or tenth
of corn, wine, and oil is required in addition to the
firstlings of the flock and the herd. This precept, written
down in the 7th century bc, is plainly no innovation,
but rests on older usage (cp Gen xxviii. 22 , Amos iv..4),
the new point emphasized is not that tithes must be paid,
but that they must be consumed at the central, instead of
a local, sanctua y (Deut xij 6, 11, xiv. 23*9? ), apparently
at the great autumn feast or Feast of Taberhacles {q.v ) '
Such a tithe is still nothing more than the old ofl'ering of
first-fruits (biki-unm) made definite as regards quantity,
and it was only natural that as time went on there should
be some fijced standard of the due amount of the annual
sacred tribute.'^ The establishment of such a standard
does not necessarily imply that full payment was exacted ;
in Gen. xxviii. 22 Jacob vows of his own free will to pay
tithes, just as the Arabs ussd to vow the tithe of the m-
crease of the flock (schol. on HAnth, Moalt , I. 69, ed
Arnold). The Arab did not always fiilfil his vow, and
there was no foroe to make him do so. But, however in-
exactly it may often have been paid, the proportion of
one part in ten seems tc have been accepted in man-,
ancient natiodS~"ks the ojrmal measure of sacred tribute
paid from the gains of husbandry, trade, or even of wdr ''
The tithe, in fact, appears to have 1 een a common form
of tax upon the produce of land or other revem es, for
civil as weU as for sacred purposes We find it in Greece
(as at Athens), and in Sicily and Asia, under the Roman
empire; but its special home was in the East. It was
exacted on agricultural products and flocks by Hebrew
kings (1 Sam viii 15, 17), and on imports by the monarchs
of Babylon (Aristotle, fficon ,ed Berlin, p 1352b). Aristotle
gives the tithe on fruits of the soil the first place among
the revenues of satraps (Pnd , p 1345b), and it still tonus
an important element in the fiscal system of Mohammedan
states. It will be observed that the proportion of one in
ten has been applied in the East, and in antiquity generally,
to imports of very diflerenl kinds, and in Mohammedan
taxation we find the name retained in cases where much
less than a tinth is actually taken In like manner Aris-
totle (ul svpra) makes Stua-nj a mere synonym of <K<^pioi',
or tax on pioduce ; the proportion of one to ten, it would
seem, was so commonly taken in antiquity as the basis of
ad valorem taxes that any such tax or tribute might be
called a tithe. As regards the sacred tithe of the Hebrews,
h distinction is drawn in Deuteronomy between the ordi-
nary annual tithe, which may not have been a full tenth.
and the "whole" or "full tithe," paid once in three years
•
r ' Cp Deul xivi. wijh 1 Sam i. 21 (Sept ). and ,'erome oo Ezek I
^ ; and see WoUhauseD. Prolegommn, p P4 (Bng. tr , p. 92 sq ).
* Id DeuteroDoray. accordingly, the tir,t fruit* ^hnkkuriui) are not
toentioned ; the litbe Uil<es tbfir place The word translated " tirst
fmita" in Deut (rfish'iih) is o sm-iU eift to ibe onesta. a mere ba;sket-
ful {rnii, 4, xxvx 2 ^q.).
. * For in!:tances see Spencer, De L€(n^us Betrrseirrum^ lib. iii , cap
10, § 1. Among the Semites in pnrttcular cote the tithe paid by the
Carthaginians to the Tyrian Melk.irth (Diod.. ll 14), and the tithe of
frankincense paid in Arabia to the god Sabis (Pliny. B N , x\\ 32 ,
«nd coDip..W K Smith. Pmphrts o/ hrnd, p 382 sj ). A lithe of
attle appears m l.^duj^ic X>amasc., (i. 24). \
(Deut. xiv. 28, xxvi. 12), which the legislator directs tcl
be stored at home, and spent in feeding the poor.
From Amos iv. 4 it is sometimes inferred that in the 8th century
B.C the sacnficial tithe, presented at a sanctuary, was triennial.
But when the prophet, mocking the false zeal of tlie people, s.iy3„
"Bring your sacrifices every morning and your tithes every three
days" (not "years," as E V.), he hardly implies more than that
occasions of satrihce were three times as Ireijuent as tithe-day, and
so alludes to the fact that there were by old usage three annual
feasts and one annual tilhe. A triennial sacnbtml tithe is incun*
ceivable when it is remembered that the tube is only an exteusioa
of the first-fruits The triennial tithe in Deuteronomy seems to
be rather au innovation necessary in the interests of the poor, whea
sacrificial feasts weM transferred to the central sanctuary, and
ceased to benefit the neighbours of the offerer, who bad a prescrip-
tive claim to be considered on such occasions (conip. 1 Sam. xjsv. 3
sqq , Neh. vui. 10 ; Luke xiv, 13).
The priests of the sanctuaries had of old a bhare in the
sacrificial feasts', and among those who are to share in the
triennial tithe Deuteronomy includes the Levites, i e., the
priests of the local sanctuaries who had lost their old
perquisites by the centralization of worship. Alter the
return, and before the work of Ezra, when Denteronoiny
was still the law of the new Israel, but the Levites had
become subordinate ministers of the temple, and required
a more regular provision, the "whole tithe" was naturally
fixed on for this purpose ; but, instead of remaining in the
hands of the tilhc-payers to be doled out in charity, it was
stored in the temple Such, at least, was the plan pro-
posed, though from Mai. iii, 8 sqq it appears that it was
very imperfectly carried out. As Malachi speaks in
Deuteronomic phrase of the " whule tithe," the paj-ment
to the Levites was perhaps still only triennial ; and, if
even this was difficult to collect, we may be sure that the
minor sacrificial tithe had very nearly disappeared The
indifl'erence complained of in Mai. i. was in great part due
to the fundamental changes in the religion of IsVael, which
made private altar gifts and feasts almost meaningless.
On the other hand, the provision of regular support for
the priests and Levites, the ministers of the public ritual,
was now all important, and received special attention
from Ezra and Nehemiah (Neh x 27 »/q , xiii 10 577).
They eS'ected it by enforcing the new law ot the priestly
•ode (Num. xvm 21 sq'/ ), in which it is lormaJly laid
down that the tithe is a tribute paid to the Levites, who
in turn pay a lithe of it to the priests. The plain inten-
tion of the priestly cede is to allow the old tube of
Deuteronomy to drop, but the harnionislic interpretation
of the later scribes was to the eflect that two tithes were to
be paid every year, and a third tithe, for the poor, on every
third year (Tob 1 7 sq , Jos., Ant , iv 8, § 22) The last
change in the system was the appropriation of the Levitical
tithe by the priests, which appa/ently wase9"ected by John
Hyrcanus, though a tradition glaringly inconsistent v-ilh
Nehemiah ascribes it to Ezra {Mm/inafi, " Ma'aser Sh ," v,
1"^ , "Sota," IX. 10. and Wagenseils nole).« (w r. s.)
Tithes in Law.
Tithes were generally regarded up to the 17th -enrur}* as existing
jure dtvinv, and as having been payable to the suf-port of tha
church ever since the eailifst days of Chnsuamiy History, as
Selden showed in his learned arid exhaustive tieati^e (//<s'(" j/ 0/
rif/Kji. 1618), doe.' not bearoul this view ' Inlhewoidsol Hallam,
" the slow and gradual manner in which parothial chmi hes b»'Canie
imieftendeut aj'^iears to be of itself a sutb< lent fir.swei ti> iho-ve who
.ijcribe a pieat nr.thjuity to the universal [Mtmenl ol tubes' *
* A cattle tube IS demanded in Levit ixvii 3i. ai,d -pollen of- m
2 Cliron xxii 6 It is doubilul if tins was e^er aikr.oxledged in
practice See Kuenen. (*f«fsrf(f ">(. 11 269 57 aijd Wt-iJiMu^r-u o/» ri/ ,t.
1. § 2 [Eng, tr, p 156 s^ ). who argue that thr passa^'e in Leviiir u? is a
later addition. Tb« tendency of the Pharisees was to pav tiihe on
everything, and to make a self righteous boast of this iMatl. ixiu 23 ^
Luke xviii. 121. -^
' It Avas his denial of the divine nght of tithes that brought down
the wTatb of the Star Chamber upon the authoi He was lorced t<^.
retract an opinion too liberal for the ume. See Scu>£M,
412
TITHES
Long before the 8th century payment of t>th" ^^^ f?i° ,■ I
eccl^iastical wriurs and by councUs of the church ; but the earhest
fnthentic example of anything like a law of the sUte enforcing
payment appeal to occur in the Capitularies of Charlemagne at
the end of thTsth or beginning of the 9th century. T.th^ were
by that enactment to be applied to the maintenance of the bishop
and clergy, the poor,' and the fabric of the churchy In course ot
time the principle of payment of tithes was extended far beyond
its ori-inaM intention. Thus they became transfcrable to laymen
and saleable like ordinary property, in spite of the injunctions of
the third Lateran councU, and they became payable out of sources
of income which were not originally tithable The canon la* con-
Uins -nomerovs and minut« provisions on the subject of tithes
The Decretu.,n forbade their alienation to lay proprietors denounced
eicommuBication against those who refused to pay, and bascJ the
right of the church upon Scriptural precedents' The Decretals
contained provisions as to what was and what was not tithable
property, as to those privUeged from pa)'ment, as to sale or hypo-
theStion to laymen, as to priority over state taxes, ic Vanous
questions which arose later were settled by Boniface VIII. Ihe
council of Trent enjoined due payment of tithes, and cicommuni-
cated those who withheld them * . .
In England the earliest example of legal recognition of tithes is,
accordinl to Selden, a decree of a synod in 786." Other examples
before the Conquest occur in the Fadus ^1/redt ei Guthrumani
the laws of Athelstan, Edgar, and Canute ' The tripartite division
of tithes docs not appear to have been recognized in tngland Dy
any genuine legal enactment except as what Mr. Freeman caUs a
counsel of perfection " » The earliest mention of tithes m statute
law proper U in the Statute of Westminster the Second m 1285,
e 5 of which deals with the patron's vrrit cU advocation dectvw.rum.
From that dat€ until the present year (1887) there have been a arge
number of Acts dealing with tithes,-the earliest which is still law
being 2 Hen IV. c 4, making it an offence to purchase a buU from
the Sope for the discharge of land from rithes. The law has only
attained its present condition by slow degrees, and by the combined
effect of sututes and judicial decisions. The effect of the T, the
Commutation Act of 1836 has been to make most of the old law o
merely hUtorical interest, as in the course of the commutation all
the questions of law as to prescription, csemprions, &c would
have been duly considered by the commissioners before the rent-
charge was finally apportioned.
Tithes in English law are of three kinds,— predial, arising imme-
diately from the soil, as of corn ; mixed, arising from things nourished
by Ihe soil, as of milk or wool ; personal, as of the profits of manual
occupations or trades. The right to the last was considerably re-
stricted by 2 and 3 Edw. VI. c. 13. They are also divided frorn other
points of view into ordinary and extraordinary,— the latter being a
tithe at a heavier rate charged on bop and market gardens,— and
into great and small, as a rule those which go to the rector and
vicar respectively. In general great rithes are predial, small are
mixed and personal. It is not everything that is tithable ; ex-
emptions are claimable either from the nature of the property or
the privilege of the owner. Stone, lime, and such other substances
as are not of annual increase are exempt. So are creatures /cr«
luUuTiB. Exempt by privilege are the crown by its prerogative,
and spiritual corporations in accordance with the maxim recognized
equally by canon and common law, ecclcsia danmas nm solnl
adtsue. Thus a rector pays no rithes to his vicar, or a vicar to
his rector. On the same principle it is a ground of exemption that
lands were anciently the property of the pnvileged orders (at the
time of the dissolution of raona-steries. the Cistercians and Hos-
pitallers), or were lands of the greater monasteries discharged from
tithe by 31 Hen. VIII. c. 13. Exemption may abo be claimed by
redemption, by substitution of a rent-charge, by a real composition
(that is, an agreement between the incumbent and the landowner,
with the consent of the ordinary and patron, for the discharge from
payment of tithe by means of satisfaction by giving of land or some
other real recompense), by a modia (that is. a partial discharge
owine to some customary method of tithing or -modus dicima-ndi),
or by prescriprion under 2 and 3 Will. IV. c. 100. Tithes in extra-
parochial places belonged at common law to the crown, except by
custom. Tithes are incorporeal hereditamento (sec Real Estate),
and may he dealt with like any other real estate of that nature
Thus they arc, if in lay hands, t«nemenU which may be entailed
or leased, are subject to dower and curtesy, are assets for the pay-
ment of debts, and are (whether in lay hands or not) within the
Sutute of Limiutions. They do not, however, issue out of the land
like rents, but are collateral to it. Accordingly tithes are always
freehold, even though they are charged on copyhold bmds Tithes
> OeeDinU, Par. xiL 93. "dfcimcuqur sum pauperum Dei."
a Pt iL 16 7. 3 Bb. 111. 30. * Extrar. Cffmm., DK. nl 7.
■ • 8ess irv 12 * C. viii. 8. 2.
» The giani said to have been made by /Ethdwulf In 855, to which the
Sneral payment ot tlthca in England has been commonly traced, appears not
rest on nalisdctory evidence ; see nallam, iliddlt Agti "iupplementaJ
Botes, p. 180. , _ „ ...
• 8e« Rev. Morris Fuller in HalumoX Remm, November li
are presumed to go to the parson of the parish. This presumption
may be rebutted by proof that some or all the tithes go to th»
vicar where the rector is in holy orders, or to a lay in.piopri.itor.
It IS said that about a third part of the tithes lu England is in th»
ha ds of laymen At one time arbitrary consecration of tithes wa»
allowed —that is. payment to any priest at the will of the tithe-
Thiswas forbidden by a decretiil epistle of Innocent 111.,
paye
about 1200,
This epistle de'cretall." says'Coke, " bound not th»
subjects of this realm, but the same being just and reasonable they
allowed the same, and so became to Urric"'> A vestige of tho
arbitral^ consecration perhaps exists in the rarely ""curring rigbt
of the parson of one parish to a portion of the tithes of another.
Tithes are payable by all persons alike, whether members of tho
Church of England or not. Special enactmenU deal with their
recovery from Roman Catholics and Quakers. Up to 1836 lithe*
were paid in kind, unless where any other method of payment
applied in a particular case, such as a modus in the nature of a
pecuniary compensation, or a pecuniary payment under the terms
of a public or private Act, as in the city of London by 37 Hen.
VIII c 12, 22 and 23 Car. II. c 15, and other Acts Even before
1836, however, the bulk of the tithes had been commuted, but such
comtnuUtion was in ordinary cases good only during the t.nure of
a particular incumbency, and did not bind the incumbent's suc-
cessors. The Act of 1836 merely completed and gave legislative
sanction to a tendency which had been long on the increase. i
The effect of the Tithe Commutation Act. 1836 (6 and 7 Will.
IV c. 71, frequently amended since), was to substitute for the
tithe paid in kind or the fluctuating commuted tithe a rent-
charge— commonly called the rithe rent-charge— equivalent to the
market valu' from time to time on a septennial average of the
exact quantiries of wheat, bariey, and oats which made up tho
legal tithes by the estimate in 1836. Excepted from the operation
of the Act are (unless where there is a special provision approvecl
by the commissioners) tithes of fish or of fishing, or any pei60nal_
rithes other than those of mills, or any mineral tithes, or pay,
ments or rent -charges in lieu of rithes in London and other
places, resring on the authority of local Acts. The Act has not
beeu wholly successful in its working. By the transfer of estates,
and by changes in local agriculture, the old estimates are no
longer fairly applicable in all cases. The commuution has been,
on the whole, to the advantage of the landowners, for the tithe
remains fixed while the rental of land since 1836 has risen, accord-
in<» to Sir James Caird, from 33 millions to 52 millions per annum.
Colnrautation under the Act is either by a volnoUry agreement,
confirmed by the rithe commissioners." or by an award of tho
commissioners. The machinery for determining the tithe for any
given year is as follows -.-the Board of Trade is to cause the
average prices per imperial bushel of each sort of Bntish corn to
be computed from the summaries sent by the inspectors of corn
returns, obtained from the averages stated by the inspectors, and
published in the London GazctU weekly, quarteriy, and yearly,
and a septennial average is to be obtained from the sum of the
annual averages divided by seven (45 and 46 Vict, c 37, supersed-
ing sect. 56 of the Act of 1836). The rent-charge is computed on the
b^is of one-third for wheat, one-third for bariey, and one-third
for oats. The respective prices were originally fixed by 7 Will. IV.
and 1 Vict c 69, a. 7 (as altered by the London GazeUt of 9th
December 1837), at 73. IJd. for wheat, 3s. UJid. for bariey, and
23 Od for oats per bushel. The prices for 1887 were 4s. lid.,
3s lOd and 28. 7Jd. respecrively. Owing to this fall in prices,
tithe rent-charge which stood at £100 in 1836 was worth in 1887
only £87, 88 lOd. , „„, „ , ,
After the coming into force of the Act of 1836 all lands werp
discharged from tithe, and the tithe rent-charge was substituted,
payable by equal half-yeariy payments, each 1st of July and 1st of
January A tenant paying the rentcharge is to be allowed the
sam? in account with his landlord. The charge thus ultimately
falls upon the landlord, whether or not he pays it in the first in-
stance to the rithe. o^vner, Land may be given instead of a rent-
charge where the rithe-owner is an ecclesiasrical person Gardens
or small tenements may be exempt from tithe by 3 and 4 Vict. c.
15. LaUr Acts give a power of redemprion of rentcharge in tho
case of land required for public purposes, settled land, ic. (9 and
10 Vict c. 73 ; 23 and 24 Vict c 93 ; 41 and 42 Vict, c 42 ; 45
and 46 Vict c 38). Merger of the rent-charge is allowed by
tenants in fee or in tail under the Act of 1836, and by persons
having powers of appointment, tenanta for life, and owners of
glebes under 1 and 2 Vict c. 64 and 2 and 3 Vict. c. 62. The mode
tf recovery of arrears provided by the Act of 1836 was a new one.
Up to that time arrears could not be distrained for, unless in
exceptional cases. The remedy of the parson was. a suit for
subtraction of tithes, which, by 2 and 3 Edw. VI. c. 13 could
onlv be brought in a spiritual court. Tho remedy of thf lay-
bolder was a suit or action in any temporal court by 32 Hen. VIJI.
»2;n»t..641. , . ... ,v_|
10 By the Settled Land Act. 1582. the tithe commlesloncrB have, with ottti j
bodies, been merged in the land commissioners constituted by the Act
T I T — T I T
413
£"7."* It 13 provided by the Art of 1836 that, if tlie rcnt-charg? be
in iirear for tsrenty-one days, the person entitled to it may, after
ten days* notice in writing, distrain upon the lands liable to the
parment of it. If it be m arrear for forty days, and there be no
sumcient distress on the promises, a writ of habere facias posus-
tiOTtim may issue, directing the sheriff to summon a j ory to assess
arrears. Not more than two years' arrears can be recovered by
either means. It appears from these sections of the Act that the
charge binds the land alone, and that there is no personal liability
of either landlord or tenant Though the charge is on the land,
it is not on the inheritance, and it has been recently decided that
vrears are not recoverable by sale of the lands out of which the
T«Dt<^arge issnesL The assessment of the rent-charge on -nastes,
coounon or Lammas lands, coppice wood, turnips, cattle agisted, ic,
and the commutation of com rents created by local Acts, are the
lubject of special provisions. The Act of 1836 and later Acts pro-
rided for the division of the charge upon hop grounds, orchards,
fniit plantations, and market gardens inlo the ordinary and extra-
ordinary charge, the latter to bo a rate per acre in addition to the
ordinary charge. The estraordinary tithe applies only while the
Und is cultivated as a hop ground, ^c, and in cose of new cultiva-
tion comes inlo operation gradually, the full rate not being levied
at once. The incidence of thee.^traordinary tithe having becu found
an impediment to agriculture, especially in Kent, the Estraordinar)'
Tithe Commutation Act,M8S6 (49 and 50 Vict c. 54), was passed as
a remedy. It provides that no extraordinary tithe is to be charged
upon any land newly cultivated after the passing of the Act. With
regard to land subject at the passing of the Act to extraordinary
tithe, the Act enables the land commissioners to certify the capital
value of the extraordinary tifhe on each farm or parcel of land, the
land to be charged in lien of the tithe with the payment of an
annual rent-charge equal to 4 per cent on the capital value. Tlie
ouTicr or any other person interested in the land may redeem the
charge at its capital value. Tithe rent-charge is subject by the
Act of 1836 to all parliamentary, parochial, and county rates, and is
an hereditament within the Poor Rate Act of the same year (6 and 7
|Will IV. c. 96). The latter Act further enacts that in estimating
the net annual value of rateable hereditaments, the rent is to be
estimated free, inter alitz, of tithe commutation rent-charge, if any.*
ScotlaTid. — The temw "tithes "and ** teinds" are both in use, but
the latter is the more common. Teinds are either drawn in kind,
valued, or redeemed Originally they were aJl drawn in kind, as in
England, but their commutation or redemption was the subject of
'many Acts of the Scottish parliament, especially those passed in
,1633, the practical effect of which has been to maJ^e a fixed burden
on the land take the place of a fluctuating payment, and to sub.
stitute a payment of one-fifth of the rent for one-tenth of the pro-
duce. ;. In the first instance all teinds went to the church ; but,
when at the Refonnation the crown became proprietor of th^church
lauds, grants were made by it to the lords of erection or titulars
of the tithes, laymen holding of the crown. The Act 1587, c. 29,
annexed the church lands to the crown, with certain exceptions in
favour of lay holders and others. All bishops' teinds and those
formerly part of the revenue of the chapel royal are now crown
property. The Church Patronage Act of 1874 does not affect the
right to tvinds of a patron or titular. Teinds in lay hands are sub.
ject to the burden of^ providing a suitable provision for the minister,
the stipend bein^ fixed by the Court of TeLids. All lands are sub-
ject to teinds except those which before the Reformation were feued
mm rfect'mw inclusis et nuTupiam anUa separatis, so that the grantee
held lands and teinds toother. In order to prove such an excmp-
lion, the person claiming liuder a dccimx irtcluss title must show
that the lands and teinds belonged to a monastery, that the lands
were never teindable, that they were novalia, or reclaimed by the
monks themselves, that the title bears that the lands are held cum
deeimis inciusis, &c., and that it is previous to 1587. The judges
of the Court of Session sit as commissioners of teinds, — a jurisdic-
tion specially preserved by art lix. of the Act of Union, — and
exercise wider powers than any existing body in England, as they
possess at once the jurisdiction of a court ol jostioc and of the
English land commissioners. The constitution and procedure of
the Court of Teinds is regulated by 48 Geo. III. c. 138 and sub-
sequent Acts.-
Jreland. — iUjiy Acts of the Irish parliament deal with tithes,
both generally and locally, the earliest being 33 Hen. VIII. c. 12,
based upon the English Act, 28 Hen. VIII. c. 20. After the
■'tithe war 'iat the beginning of the 19th century, a tithe composi-
tion payable by the occupier was fixed by 4 Geo. I V. c 99. I n 1 SHS
an annual icnt<harge equal in amount to three-fourths of th" tithe
* See, in addition to the authorities already cited, Montesquieu,
Espnl cUs Lois, bk. llli. c 12 ; Prideani, On TMes ; Eagle, On
Tithes ; Shelford, On the Tiihe Commutation Acts ; Pbillimore, £c-
cUtiastietU Law, vol. ii., 1483 ; Stephen. Comm., voL ii. bk. iv. pt ii.
cb. iii.
' See Selden, Jlulon/ o/ TUhts,' c. vii. a. 9; G. J. Bell, Prin<:iples,
/J§837, 1147;_W._BeU, iauiXhW. and Digest, "Teinds."
composition was substituted for the latter by 1 and 2 Vict. c. 109.
The rent-charge is recoverable by distress where the person liable
is the occupier, in other cases by action in the High Court of Justice,
or by civil bill in claims under £20. The Irish Church Act, 1869
(32 and 33 Vict. c. 42), vests all tithe re.it.charge then belonging
to clergy of the Irish Church in the commissioners of church tem-
poralities in Ireland. By that Act and the amending Act, 35 and
36 Vict. c. 90, tho commissioners are enabled to purchase the,
surrender or assignment of any subsisting lease of tithe rent-charge
made by an ecclesiastical person or corporation, and to sell any-
rent-charge vested in them to the owner of the land charged
therewith for a sum equal to twenty- two and a half years' pur-;
chase. (J. Wt.)
TITHONUS, a character of Greek mythology, a son orj
according to others, a brother of Laomedon, king of Troy.l
He was beloved by Eos (the Morning), who carried him'
away and dwelt with him at the limit of tiie world, by the
Ocean stream. Eos begged of Zeus that her lover might
live for ever, and her re<fnest was granted ; but she forgot
to ask immortal youth for him, so he shrivelled up intoiv
hideous old man, whom Eos kept shut up in a ch.imbcr.;
At last Tithonns prayed to be rid of the burden of old age
and was turned into a grasshopper. Eos had two sons by
him — Meranon, king of j^thiopia, and Emathion. Jlemnon
was killed before Troy by Achilles; but the legend is lat*
than the Hiad, which does not mention it. As to Eos her-(
self, her name is etymologically identical with the Sanskrit
vsh and the Latin aurora, both meaning " morning." Ac-|
cording to Hesiod, Eos was a daughter of Hyperion and
Thea, and sister of the Sun and Moon. Homer represents
her arising every morning from the couch of Tithonus to
carry light to gods and men, drawn in a chariot up the
sky by her svi'ift steeds Lampus and Phaethon. Her com-
mon epithet in Homer is " rosy-fingered," the meaning of
which is disputed. Besides Tithonus she loved Orion, till
Artemis shot him with an arrow in Ortygia. ' She also
loved and carried off the youthful hunter Cephalus ; he
was already married to Procris, to whom, in spite of his
infidelity, he was afterwards reconciled. A peculiar form
of the Cephalus legend is given by Apollodorus (iii. 14, 3):
Cephalus, a son of Hermes and Herse, was carried off by
Eos, and from their union in SjTia sprang Phaethon. By
Astrseus, Eos became the mother of the Morning Star and
all the starry host.
With regard to representations in art, the comb.it between Achillea
and Memnon was bgured on the chest of Cj-pselus (Pau-sanias, v.'
19, 1), and it appears on early Greek vases of Melos, Corinth, ami
Chalcis. There was a group of Eos carr^'ing off Cephalus on tha
roof of the Stoa Basileios at Athens, and the same scene was repre-;
sentcd on the throne atAmycIa (Pans., i. 3, 1 ; iii. IS, 12). It'
also appears on vases, and formed an acrotcrion group on the temple,'
at Delos. Eos in" her chariot is represented on vases.
See Rcischer, Aus/uhrlttJies LeriKon tier grtech. a- rom. AJyikotogie, p. 1262 sq. \
TITIAN (1477-1576). Tiziano Vecellio, or Vecelli,:
one of the greatest painters of the world, and in espeoial
the ty])ical represeiitative of tho Venetian school, was com-|
monly called during his lifetime " Da Cadore," from the^
place of his birth, and has also been designated "II'
Di\ino." The country of Cadore, in the Friuli, barrea
and poor, is watered by the Piave torrent poured forth
from the Carnic Alps, and is at no great distance from
Tyrol. Titian, therefore, was not ia any sense a Venetian
of the lagoons and Adriatic, but was native to a co'intry,
and a range of association, perception, and observation, of
a directly different kind. Venice conquered Friuli at a
date not very remote from the birth of Titian; and Cadore,
having to choose between Venetian and imperial allegiance,'
declared for the former. Approaching the castle of Cadore
from the village Sotto Castello, one passes on the right a
cottage of hiunble pretensions, inscribed as Titian's birth-
place ; the precise locality is named Arsenale. The neai
mountain — all this range of hills being of dolomite for-'
mation — ia called Marmarolo. At the neighbouring village
of Valle was fought in Titian's lifetime the battle of,
114
TITIAN
Dadore, a Venetian victory which ae recorded in a paint-
ing. In the 12th century the count of Camino became
count also of Cadore. He was called Guecello ; and this
name descended in 1321 to the podesti (or mayor) of
Cadore, to the stock to which the painter belonged.
Titian, one of a family of four, and son of Gregorio
Vecelli, a distinguished councillor and soldier, and of his
wife Lucia, was bom in 1477
It used to be said that Titian, when a child, painted
upon the wall of the Casa Sampieri, with flower-juice, a
Madonna and Infant with a boy-angel; but modern
connoisseurs say that the picture is a common work, of a
date later than Titian's decease. He was still a child
when sent by his parents to Venice, to an uncle's house.
There he was placed under an art -teacher, who may per-
haps have been Sebastiano Zuccato, a mosaicist and
painter now forgotten. He next became a pupil of
Gentile Bellini, whom he left after a while, because the
master considered him too offhand in work. Here he had
the opportunity of studying many fine antiques. His
last instructor was Giovanni Bellini ; but Titian was not
altogether satisfied with his tutoring. The youth was a
contemporary of Giorgione and Palma (Vecchio) ; when
his period of pupilage expired, he is surmised to have
entered into a sort of partnership with Giorgione. A
fresco of Hercules on the Morosini Palace is said to have
been one of his eajliest works ; others were the Virgin
and Child, in the Vienna Belvedere, and the Visitation of
Mary and Elizabeth (from the convent of S. Andrea), now
in the Venetian academy. In 1 507-8 Giorgione was com-
mibsioned by the state to execute frescos on the re-erected
Fondaco de' Tedeschi. Titian and Morto da Feltre worked
along with him, and some fragments of Titian's paintings,
which are reputed to have surpassed Giorgione's, are still
discernible. According to one account, Giorgione was
nettled at this superiority, and denied Titian admittance
to his bouse thenceforth. Stories of jealousies between
painters are rife in all regions, and in none more than
in the Venetian, — various statements of this kind apply-
ing to Titian himself. One should neither accept nor re-
ject them uninquiringly ; counter-evidence of some weight
can be cited for Vecelli's vindication in relation to Moroni,
Correggio, Lotto, and Coello. Towards 1511, after the
cessation of the League of Cambrai — which had endea-
voured to shatter the power of the Venetian republic, and
had at any rate succeeded in clipping the wings of the
lion of St Mark — Vecelli went to Padua, and painted in
the Scuola di S. Antonio a series of frescos, which con-
tinue to be an object of high curiosity to the students
of his genius, although they cannot be matched against
his finest achievements in oil painting. Another fresco,
dated 1523. is St Christopher carrying the Infant Christ,
at the foot of the doge's steps in the ducal palace of
Venice. From Padua Titian in 1512 returned to Venice;
and in 1513 he obtained a broker's patent in the Fondaco
de' Tedeschi, termed " La Sanseria " or " Senseria " (a pri-
vilege much coveted by rising or risen artists), and became
superintendent of the Government works, being especially
charged to complete the paintings left unfinished by Gio-
vanni Bellini in the hall of the great council in the ducal
palace. He set up an atelier on the Grand Canal, at S.
Samuele, — the precise site being now unknovfn. It was
not until 1516, upon the death of Bellini, that he came
into actual enjoyment of his patent ; at the same date an
arrangement for painting was entered into with Titian
alone, to the exclusion of other artists who had heretofore
been associated with him. The patent yielded him a good
annuity — 120 crowns — and exempted him from certain
taxes, — he t-^ing bound in retiim to paint likenesses of
^Ue successive doges of his time at the fixed price of eight
crowns each. The actual number which he executed was
five. Titian, it may be well to note as a landmark in this
all but centenarian life of incessant artistic labour and
productiveness, was now in the fortieth year of his age.
The same year, 1516, witnessed his first journey to Fer-
rara. Two years later was produced, for the high altar of
the church of the Frari, one of his most world-renowned
masterpieces, the Assumption of the Madonna, now in the
Venetian academy. It excited a vast sensation, being
indeed the most extraordinary piece of colourist execution
on a great scale which Italy had yet seen. The signoria
took note of the facts, and did not fail to observe that
Titian was neglecting his work in the hall of the great
council.
Vecelli was now at the height of his fame ; and towards
1521, following the production of a figure of St Sebastian
for the papal legate in Brescia (a work of which there
are numerous replicas), purchasers became extremely urgent
for his productions. It may have been about 1523, after
some irregular living and a consequent fever, that ho
married a lady of whom only the Christian name, Cecilia,
has come down to us ; her first child, Pomponio, was born
in 1525, and two (or perhaps three) others followed.
Towards 1526 he became acquainted, and soon exceedingly
intimate, with Pietro Aretino, the literary bravo, of influ-
ence and audacity hitherto unexampled, who figures so
strangely in the chronicles of the time. Titian sent a
portrait of him to Gonzaga, duke of Mantua. A great
affliction befell him in August 1530, in the death of his
wife He then, with his three children^-one of them
being the infant Lavima, whose birth had been fatal to the
mother — removed to a new home, and got his sister Orsa
to come from Cadore and take charge of the household.
The mansion, difficult now to find, is in the Biri Graiide,
then a fashionable suburb, being in the extreme end of
Venice on the sea, with beautiful gardens and a look-out
towards Murano. In 1532 he painted in Bologna a portrait
of the emperor Charles V., and was created a count pala-
tine and knight of the Golden Spur, his children also
being made nobles of the empire, — for a painter, honours
of an unexampled kind.
The Venetian Government, dissatisfied at Titian's neg-
lect of the work for the ducal palace, ordered him in
1538 to refund the money which he had received for
time unemployed ; and Pordenone, his formidable rival of
recent years, was installed in his place. At the end of a
year, however, Pordenone died ; and Titian, who had
meanwhile applied himself diligently to painting in the
hall the battle of Cadore, was reinstated. This great
picture, which was burned with several others in 1577,
represented in life-size the moment at which the Venetian
captain, D'Alviano, fronted the enemy, with horses and
men crashing down into the stream. Fontana's engraving,
and a sketch by Titian himself in the gallery of the Ufiizi
in Florence, record the energetic composition. As a matter
of professional and worldly success, his position from about
this time may be regarded as higher than that of any other
painter known to history, except Raphael, Michelangelo,
and at a later date Rubens. In 1540 he received a pen-
sion from D'Avalos, Marquis del Vasto, and an annuity of
200 crowns (which was afterwards doubled) from Charles
V. on the treasury of Milan. Another source of profit —
for he was always suflSciently keen after money — was a
contract, obtained in 1542, for supplying grain to Cadore,
which he visited with regularity almost every year, and
where he was both generous and influential. This reminds
us of Shakespeare and his relations to his birthplace,
Stratford -on -A von ; and indeed the great Venetian and
the greater Englishman had something akin in the essen-
tially natural tone of their inspiration and performance^
TITIAN
.415
\nd in tbc personal tendency of each to look after practical
success and "tbe main chance "rather than to work out
aspirations and pursue ideals.' ; Titian had a favourite
villa on tbe neighlK)uring Manza Hill, from which (it may
be inferred) be made his chief oliservations of landscape
form and cflfect. 'The so-called Titian's mill, constantly
discernible in his studies, is at Collontola, near Belluno.
'a visit was paid to Rome in 154C, when he obtained the
freedom of the city, his immediate predecessor in that
honour having been Michelangelo in 1537. He could at
the sanre time have succeeded the painter Fra Sebastiano
in his lucrative office of the piombo, and he made no scruple
■)f becoming a friar for the purpose ; but this project
.apsed through his being summoned away from Venice in
1547 to paint Oharlfts V. and others in Augsburg. He
was there ago.iD in 1550, and executed the portrait of
Philip II., which was sent to England and proved a potent
auxiliary in the suit of the prince for the hand of Queen
Mary. In the preceding year Vecelli had affianced his
daughter Lavinia, the beautiful girl whom he loved deeply
and painted various times, to Cornel io Sarclnelli of Serra-
valle ; she had succeeded her aunt Orsa, now deceased, as
the manager of the household, which, with the lordly in-
come that Titian made by this time, was placed on a cor-
responding footing. The marriage took place in 1554.
She died in childbirth in 15G0. The years 1551 and
'1552 were among tho.'^e in which Titian worked least
assiduously, — a circumstance which need excite no surprise
in the case of a man aged about seventy-five. He was at
the council of Trent towards 1555. of which his admirable
picture or finished sketch in the Louvre bears record. He
waa never in Spain, notwith.°.landing the many statements
which have been made in the affirmative. Titian 'a friend
Aietinodied suddenly in 1556, and another close inti-
mate, the sculptor and architect Sansovino, in 1570. With
his European fame, and many sources of wealth, Vecelli
is the last man one would suppose to have been under the
necessity of writing querulous and dunning letters for pay-
ment, especially when the defaulter addressed was lord of
Spain and of the American Indies ; yet he had consu-intly
to complain that his pictures remained unpaid for and his
pensions in arrear, and in the very year of his death
(February) he recites the many pictures which he had
sent within the preceding twenty years without receiving
their piSce. In fact, there is ground for thinking that all
his pensions and privileges, large as they were nominally,
brought in but precarious returns. It has been pointed
out that in the summer of 1566 (when he was elected into
the Florentine academy) he made an official declaration of
his income, and put down the various items apparently
below their value, not naming at all his salary or pensions.
Possibly there was but too much reason for the omission.
,. In September 1 565 Titian went to Cadofe and designed
the decorations for the church at Pieve, partly executed
ty his pupib. One of these is a Transfiguration, another
an Annunciation (now in S. Salvatore, Venice), inscribed
" Titianns fecit fecit," by way of protest (it is said) against
the disparagement of some persons who cavilled at tbe
veteran's failing handicraft. He continued to accept com-
missions to the last. He had selected as the place for his
burial the chapel of tie Cmcifix in the church of the Frari ;
and, in return for a grave, he offered the Franciscans a
picture of the Pieti, representing himself and his son Orazio
before the Saviour, another figure in the composition being
a sibyl. This work he nearly finished ; but some differences
arose regarding it, and he then settled to bo interred in
his native Pieve. Titian was ninety-nine years of age
(more or less) when the plague,^ which was then raging in
' Out of a total population of 190,000 there periabed at this time
eo.ooo. r-
Venice, seized him, aad carried him'ofi on L'/th August
1 576. He was buried in the church of the Frari, as at first
intended, and his Picta was finished by Palnia Giovane.
He lies near his own famous painting, the Madonna di
Casa Pesaro. No memorial marked his grave, until by
Austrian command Canova executed the monument so well
known to sightseers. Immediately after Titian's own
death, his son and pictorial assistant Orazio died of the
same epidemic. His sumptuous mansion was plundered
during the plague _by thieves, who prowled about, scarce
controlled. '
Titian was a man of correct features and handsome person.witfi
an uncommon air of penetrating observation and self-possessed
composure, — a Venetian presence worthy to pair with any of those
"most potent, grave, and rcveicnd signers" whom his pencil has
transmitted to posterity. He was higlily distinguished, courteous,
and winning iu society, personally unassuming, and a fine spe.iker,
enjoying (as is said by Vasari, wlio saw him in the spring of 15C6)
health and prosperity unequalled. The numcrmis licads i-uiTcullf
named Titian's Mistress might dispose us to regard the painter
as a man of more than usually relaxed morals; the .Oict is, liowever,
that tliese titles are mere fancy-names, and no inference one way or
the other can be dravvn from them. He gave splendid entertain-'
ments at times ; and it is related that, when Henry III. of France
passed througli Venice on his way from Poland to take the French
throne, lie called on Titian with a train of nobles, and the painter
presented him' as a gift with all the pictures of which he inquired
the price. He was not a man of universal genius or varied faculty
and accomplishment, like Leonardo da Vinci and Miclielangelo i
his one great and supreme endowment was that of painting.
Ever since Titian rose into celebrity the general. verdict has been
that he is the greatest of painters, considered technically. In
the first place neither the method of fresco painting nor work o(
the colossal scale to wlijch fresco painting ministers is here in
question. Titian's province is that of oil painting, and of painting
on a scale which, though often large and grand, is not colossal either
in difcension or in inspiration. Titian may properly be regarded
ns tiie greatest manipulator of paint in relation to colour, tone;
luminosity, richness, texture, surface, and harmony, and with a
view to the production of a pictorial whole conveying to the eyfl
a true, dignified, and beautiful impression of its general subject-
matter and of the objects of sense which form its constituent partsj
In this sense Titian has never been deposed from his sovereignty
in painting, nor can one forecast the time in which he will be
deposed. For the complex of qualities which we sum up in the
words colour, handling, and general force and hamiony of cITect.'
he stands nnmatched, although in particular items of forcible or,
impressive execution — not to speak of creative invention — some
painters, one in one respect and another in another, may indisput-
ably be preferred to him. He carried to its acme that great colourist
conception of the Venetian school of which the first masterpieces
are due to the two Bellini, to Carpaccio, and, with more fully derc-l
loped suavity of manner, to Giorgione. Pre-eminent inventive;
power or sublimity of intellect he never evinced. Even in energy,
of action and more especially in majesty or affluence of composition!
the palm is not his ; it is (so far as concerns the Venetian scliool)
assignable to Tintoretto. Titian is a painter who by wondrous
magic of genius and of art satisfies the eye, and through the eye
the feelings, — sometimes the mind.
Titian's pictures abound with memories of his home-country and
of the region which led from the hill-summits of Cadore to the
queen -city of the Adriatic He van almost the first painter to
exhibit an appreciation of mouptains, mainly those of a turreted
type, exemplified in the Dolomites. Indeed he gave to landscape
generally a new and original vitality, expressing the quality of the
objects of nature and their control over the sentiments and ima-
pnation with a force that had never before been approached. The
earliest Italian picture expressly designated as "landscape" was
one which Vecelli sent in 1552 to Philip II. His productive faculty
was immense, even when we allow for the abnormal length of his
professional career. In Italy, England, and elsewhere more than a
thousand pictures figure as Titian's ; of these about 250 m.ay be
regarded as dubious or spurious. There are, for instance, 9 picture?
in the London National Gallery, 18 in the Louvre, 16 in the Pitti.i
18 in the Uflfizi, 7 in the Naples museum, 8 in the Venetian academy,
(besides the series in the private meeting- hall), and 41 in th?'
Madrid museum.
Naturally a good deal of attention has been given by artists^
connoisseurs, and experts to probing the secret of how Titian
managed to obtain such astonishing results in colour and .«urface.
The npshot of this research is but meagre ; the secret seems to be
not so much one of Workmanship as of faculty. His figures were
put in with the bmsh dipped in a brown solution, and then altered
and worked Dp as his intention developed. ~ The later pictures were
416
TITIAN
t
V J (T ^r,{AU ti-IUnff well from a distant view. He himself
it°±f that a?U ^bU vfaft to Ron,e in 1546 he had sreatly jm-
.verrel that alter m said-cerUinly with the
LX"; of ge-'..- P-ha';, au'o wUh sLe.of the tenacity of old age
th?t he was then begiDU.ng to understand what pain ing meant
Tu\t ^,IT. pictures^th. lamut of colour resU ■^^ly;/""^^'!^
ind Len, in the later ones upon deep yeUow and bl"=;_ T.^^
n?m.fnt3 which he used were nothing unusual ; indeed they were
L^few and common. Palma Giovane records that Vecelh wou d
eet Pi -ures aside for months, and afterwards, examining them with
refill couuLnance as if they were l'i^--f ' -J^rJ" iny
to work upon them like a man possessed , also that he ^«It ""^n^y
S ri^';i^lt:*^mul!t5^^:"v^2iotsjf;rLw:
S^S^I^a^^r-th^s^^ft^dit^siv^ ^
tho f If ""^^ °' ", jT -J .. That man would have bad no equal
Tar^t hrdCt mu'chtV binf'as nature." He waa thinking
Principally of severity and majesty of ,d""g^'^"'J°^S'P' '°',,'l^
Jdded "P.ty that- in Venice they don't learn how to draw we
As a draughtsman of the human figure Tit.an was not on y
Competent -but good and fine, and be is reported U> tave ^tu^ed
anatomv deeply ; but one can easily understand that he leU not a
mtle"hort o the standard of Michelangelo, and even of otl.er
idinrFlorent nes. Ke waa wont to paint in a nude figure with
V^neUan ^supplemented by a little lake in the contour aud
towiS the «treraitie3. He observed that a colounst ought to
^rnYnulat* white black and red, and that tho carnations cannot
ra t a ^t ^Hog, but 'by replicating vanoua tinU^nd
mineliuK the colouiC Ho distanced all predecessors in the study
S CO our a^ applied to draper.es.-working on the pnnc.ple (.a
"Jh etc orgion^e^may perhapVhave forestalled him that red comes
forward to the eye, yellow retains the rays of li»bt. and blue s^i
mlutes o shadow.^ In his subject- pictures ttie figures are not
«rv numerous, and the attitudes are mostly "^^'^f ■•,^,'"°"'
bacchanals or battles the athletic display has more of faohty than
of furor His architectural scenes were somet.mes executed by
oth« ?^rsons, especially the Rosas of Brescia. The glow of late
efUrnoCor the%assionate ardour of early sundown, ^^ ">" ^
Effected by Tit an in the lighting of hia pictures^ Generally it may
belfd that he took great pains in completing his work^. =■"! P^"
.Isr n concealing the traces of labour. He appears to have had
little hkine Tor teaching, partly from distaste of the trouble, and
MtlY (i we are to befcve biograpb"^) f"" J^l<»"y- "VhU
SutewUing, however, to turn to some account the work of his
3Lh^1,^ il 3 related that on going out-cfdoors ho would leave
kiSioocen so that the pupils had a clandestine opportunity
^f copstg ru'w^rks and if 'thLop.es proved of saleable quahty
ha woSd^uy them cheap, touch them up, and resell them.
Titian's family relations appear to have been happy, except aa
reArTs his eldest son Pomponio. This youth, at the age of s x
wS aund^ed upon the ecclesiastical career hut he P-^d -st-^fu
Md worthless, and Titian at last got so disgusted with b"" ihat
S^ obtSried the transfer to a nephew of a benefice destined for
Pot^p^n^ The fortune which *he left was, after h,s decease,
Muande ed by tho tonsured prodigal. The other son Cranio, born
towads 1528, who (as we have seen) assisted Titian professionaUy,
becime a portrait-painter of mark,-some of l.is ikenesses, a mo.t
comparable with Titian's own, being often ^^.f-^fed with h.
by owners and connoisseurs. He executed an ■■opo^'^'" P"t"^
ii the hall of the great council, destroyed by fire He ga« to
Schemy some of thf time which might have been bestowed upon
taintrng Several other artists of the Vecelh family followed m
[he wako of Titian. Francesco Vecelli. his elder brother was in-
rodu?ed to painHng by Titian (it is said at the age of twelve
but chronology will hardly admit of this), and painted in the
church of 3.¥itoin Cadori a picture of the titular saint armed
TM was a noteworthy porformancc, of which Titian (the "sual
etory) became jealous ; so Francesco was diverted from pa'ntmg o
soldiering, and afterwards to mercantile life. Marco Vecelh, called
Marco di Tiziano, Titian's nephew bom m 1545. ^T^^" "?"" 'y
with the master in his old age. and earned his n=e hods of work
He has left some able productions, -in the ducal palace the Meet-
"g of Charles V. and Clement VII. in 1529; "" §. G.acomo dl
Rillto, an Annunciation : in SS. Giovanni e Paolo, Christ Fulminant^
A son of Marco, named Tinano (or Tizianello). painted early in the
17th century. From a different branch of the family came Fahruio
Sso left some pictures, is well known by his book of ^ng^^d
wstumes. AbiUAMM « M<xUn,i. Tommaso Vecelh, also a
painur. died in 1620. There was another relative, Girolamo Dante,
Vrho being a scholar and assistant of Titian, was called Girolamo di
Tiziino Various pictures of his were touched up by the master,
and are difficult to distinguish from originals. Apart from mem-
bers of his family, the scholars of Titian were not numerous ;
Paris Bordone and Bonifazio were the two of superior eicellenco.
Domenico Teoscopoli (or Domenico Greco) was employed b^ the
master to engrave from his works. It is said that Titian himself
enpraved on copper and on wood, but this may well he questioned.
\Ve must now briefly advert to Titian's individual works, tatong
them in approximate order of time, and merely dividmg portraits
from other pictures, DelaUs already given indicate that he did not
exhibit any extreme precoci'v ; the earliest works which we proceed
to mention may date towarus 1505. In the chapel of S. Rocco.
Venice is his Christ Carrying the Cross, now greatly dilapidated,
which 'was an object of so much popular devotion as to produoe
offenngs which formed the first funds for building the Scuola di
S Roico • in the scuola itself is his Man of Sorrows The siuga-
briy beautiful picture (see Schools of Painting, voh xxl p^ 436,
fie 161 in the Borgbese Palace in Rome, commonly named Uivine
and Human Love (by some. Artless and Sated Love), bears some
obvious relation to the style of Palma Vecchio. The story goes that
Titian was enamoured of Palma 's daugbUr; but nothing distinct
on this point U forthcoming. The Tnbute Money (Chnst and the
Pharisee), now in the Dresden gaUery, dates towards 1508 ; Titian is
said to have painted this highly finished yet not "n^ling pictuje
^ order to prove to some Germans that the effect o^O^d could bo
produced without those extreme mmutix which mark the style ol
Albert Durer. The St Maik in the church of the Salute-the
evangelist enthroned, along with SS. Sebastian, Roch, Cosmo, and
Damlano-a picture much in the style of Giorgione, belongs to
151-' Towards 1518 was painted, also in the same class of stjle,
the Three Ages, now in Bndgewatcr House,-a woman guiding the
fingers of a shepherd on a reed-pipe, two sleeping chddxen. a cup d.
an^old man wit^ two skulls, and a second shepherd 'n.tbe distance.
_^ne of the most poetically impressive among »" Jitun s work,^
Another work of approximate Jate was the Worship of Venus m
fhc Madrid museum, showing :. sUtue of Venus, t^o ny^Pb^.
numerous cupids hunting a hare, and other figures. Jwo of the
Loudon National GaUery pictures-the Holy Family and St Cathe-
rine and the Noli Me Tangere-were going on at "J"^'' \''^ =^™!
time as the ereat Assumption of the Madonna. In 1521 veceiii
WsbS a pafnting which had long been due to Duke Alnhonso o
Fe^ara probably the Bacchanal, with Anadne dozing over het
tine-^up! which is now in Madrid. Tho f^"ous Bacchus and
Triadne in the National Gallery was produced for the same patroiM
in 15''3 The Flora of the Uffizi, the Venus of Darmstadt, and the
ovely Venus Anadyomene of the Bridgcwater Gallery may date a
elr or so eariier. Another work of 1523 is the stupendous En.
lonibmcnt of Christ in the Louvre, whose depth of colour and o
hadow stands as the pictorial eqmvJcnt of '^d-vidual faaJ
expression; the same composition, a les. admirable work appearJ
tn^h? Manfrini GaUery. '^ The Louvre picture comes from th^
Goiaga coUection and from the gallery of Charles I. ^ Wlut^
hall ^n 1530 Titian completed the S Peter M^r^-^ /"L. J^«
church of SS. Giovanni e Paolo; for this work he bo e off the
church of SS. Giovanni o raoio ; im u..^ j i JT ^fif Til
prize in competition with Palma Vecch.o and Pordenone Of aU
^s pictures this was the most daring in design of motion whd.
it sne ded to none in general power of workmanship and of feelmg.
t Showed the infiuence of M\chelangelo,_who was in Venice whJe
Vecelli was engaged upon it. A calamitous fire destroyed it m
1867 the copy of it which has Uken its place is tne handiwork ol
Cirdi'da C.golL To 1530 belongs also the Madonna del Con.gbo
Souvre), patnted for Gonzaga f to 1536 the Venus of Florence ;
to 1538 the portraits of the'' Twelve Cesars for Gonzaga -and
l^ 539 the Presentation of the Virgin in the Temple.-one of he
conspicuous examples in the Venetian academy yet not of the
first'in7crest or iiSportance. About 1540 were done the forcible
but rather uninspired paintings lor S. Spinlo, Venice, now m the
church of the Salute-dain Killing Abel, tne s^^f^-^of Abraham
d David and Goliath; in 1543 the Ecce Homo of the V, nna
calien- whSre Aretino figures as Pilate. The Venus and Cupid
? rZence. the Venus of°Madrid. and the S"PPe; of Emmaus m
the Louvre were stUl in hand, or J"st completed, when Titian
wi summoned to Augsburg in 1547. In 1554 he sent to Philip
M in England a seconfDalae and a Venus and Adorns^ About
he same time he sent to ChaHes V. a Trmity (or as Titian
li nsdRerrd it, Last Judgment), which represented the empe^r
with his famUy and others, all in shrouds, praying to theGoa-
hcad Moses and various other personages are also portrayed.
Tlfis was the object upon which Charies continued to keep his eyes
Id unti he fi m of'^eath closed on them. L»ter pictures from
h T^(i::u^)" DS^°^d z^-^^:^ '={
f,nrpii7a^:l^L:ndo;a^'d';S"en,,a. Phd
was equally ou/iii with nudities and with s.-incti los. The Jupiter
and Antiope, now much restored, is commonly called La \ enus del
Pardo haSng at first been in the Pardo Palace. The MfSdaleno
here snokln of (1561) seems to be the pictnie now in the Ulfia
of Flor«« : Titicn. in one of his letters, said that it was the m«d
1 I T— T I T
417
popnlar picture he had ever painted. El 1563 Vecelli offered to
Pbilip II. his Last Supper, which had been in hand for six years ;
it wias cut down in the Escorial to suit s particular space, and
offers now little noticeable beyond the fine grouping. The St
Jerome of the Brcra Gallen' in Milan, a work of wonderful energy,
•pint, and farce, especially for a more than octogenarian hand,
was pnjbably rslher earlier than this; there is a replica of it in
the Escorial- One of the master's latest pi'-tures (1574-75) is in
Madrid, and commemorates the Battle of Lepanto ; it is a work
of failing power — but still the power of a Titian. Two of the
mosaics m St Mark's church, \emce, — the Mark in pontificals,
■nd the sword-sheathing angel on the right of the high altar, — are
»fter Vecellfs designs ; out they are contrary to the true spirit of
mosaic work, and the Mark in especial is a decided eyesore.
"We now turn to the portraits, — works so great in style, so stately,
end in the best sense so simple in perception and feeling that, after
allowing everything which can be said on behalf of some other
masters of the crafl, such as Raphael, Velazquez, Rubens, and
Rembrandt, one b still compelled to say that Titian stands on the
whole supreme- -Amongthe Highest examples are — Alphonso, duke
of Ferrari (Madrid) ; tie same duke and his second wife Laura
Diaiiti (LoQvre), commonly called Titian and his Mistress; Francis
I. (Lou%Te), painted towards 1536, bnt not from direct sittings, for
,Titian never saw the French king; various likenesses of himself,
one of about 1542, and another of 1562 . Paal III., also the same
pope with his grandsons Cardinal Alessandro and Duke Ottavio
(Naples), — the former, done in. about four weeks, was presented to
the pontiff in May 1543, and cost two gold ducats ; Pietro Aretino
(Pitti) ; Titian's daughter Lavinia (with a fan in the Dresden
^Uery, with a jewelled casket in Lo^d Cowper's collection) ; the
Comaro Family (Alnwick Castle) ; L'Homme au Gant (Louvre),
ftn unknown personage, youthful and handsome, the nc plus ultra
of portraiture ; Sansovino, Eleonors duchess of L^rbino; Francesco
dnbe of Urbino, Catherine Cornaro queen of CSprus (these four are
in the Cffizi) ; Charles V. on horseback (Madrid) ; Cardinal Bembo
(Naples), discovered in an nncared-for condition in 1878, very
onlike the portrait in the Barberini Gallery. The female portraits
done by Titian are few, and are almost invariably of women of
exalted rank. Of Ariosto, with whom Titian was intim.ite in
Ferrsra, though there may probably have been nothing approach-
ing to a romantic friendship between them, the painter is said to
have done three portraits. Much uncertainty, however, besets this
matter. One of the three appears as a w-oodcut in an edition of the
Orlando Furioso. A seco'hd, now at Cobham Hall, corresponds
with the woodcut likeness, and is signed " Titianus F." The
third, a work of admirable beauty, and a most fitting likeness of a
poet, is in the National Caller)- of London. It is difficult, how-
ever, to reconcile the features hero with the other portraits, and
some connoisseuTB do not admit that the work is really a Titian.
A^iAorities. — For English readers, the Lifi and Tifnrs of Titvin hy Crowe
and CavalcaseUe 0S7T) has superseded all previous works, such as those of
Sir Abraham Hume flStS) End Northcote (16.30>. Mr Josiah GllLrfs lionk.
Ccdirrt, or Titmnt C^nintry (1S69), supplies many interesting side light* on the
rabjecL Mr R- F. Hestb's monograph <lSSj) is founded mainly on Crowe and
Cavalcaselle and on Gilbert, and forma a very convenient compendium. In
Italian, ae© the usual authorities — Ticozzi, RidoUl, L^ozi, tc. fW. M. R.)
TITLES OF HONOUR are words and phrases used
for marking and distinguishing the rank or station of
the persons to whom they are assigna^and appropriated.
Whatever may have been their actual or verbal origin, it
is certain that among nations which have made any con-
siderable progress in civilization their immediate derivation
has been in the great majority of cases,irom some kind of
public office or employment. As Mr Freeman has jtointed
out,' the principal exceptions to this rule are the merely
complimentary additions which it is usual to accord in
Europe and America to persons who have no ascertained
place or precedence in the social scale. Among ourselves
"mister" or " master" (mnijister) and its feminine equiva-
lents, and on the Continent signor, seiior, and sieur (senior)
and their feminine equivalents, are the leading examples.
They are employed sinijily to avoid the necessity of calling
those to whom they are applied by their proper names
only, and are not indicative of any special rank or
station. In France, .however, ma'Ure, which answers to
our mister or master, is the professional designation of an
avocat, and in England "sir," which answers to siynor,
tenor, and suur, is the appropriate prefix to the Christian
name and surname of a baronet or a knight. Of the
derivatives of dominxu — don, donna, and dame — the last
In French compounded like sieur with the possessive pro-
' In IxmgmaKt Mag., «iL ii. p. 477-»gi
noun in ordinary speech and appearing'inTnarfameaa
the feminine equivalent of monsieur, much the same
may be said as of the derivati\ es of magister and senior.
And, although our, word " lord " has a special reference to
the House of Lords, as the German Hen- has to the
Herrenhaus in certain of its uses, it largely partakes of
the character which belongs to them. Its derivation ia
analogous to theirs, and within somewhat narrower limits
it is almost a»- indiscriminately employed. More strictly
lord and lady are the equivalents of baron and baroness,
the fifth grade of the British peerage.^ But colloquially
it is applied to all grades of the peerage e.^cept the first ;
and, though duchesses are iiot called ladies in society,
dukes are unquestionably lords in their capacity as members
of the second chamber of the legislature. Certain of the
sons and daughters of peers are lords and ladies by courtesy,
while the wives of baronets are legally and the irives of
knights are conventionally called ladies, although the ivives
of knights are more accurately described as dames. But
besides this we have our, lord the king and our lady the
queen, lord bishops, lord lieutenants, lord justices, lord
advocates, lord mayors, lord provosts, lords of the council,
lords of the treasury, lords of the admiralty, lords of
manors, and a variety of other lords who have no neces-
sary connexion with the nobility. Lord and lady in fact
are among the titles of honour which have never been
historically associated «Tth any particular function. ■ Lord
was originally in Anglo-Saxon hldford, probably a corrup-
tion of htdficeard, "the warden of bread." Lady in
Anglo-Saxon - is hlstfdige, and has also some conn'ection
'with hldf. Neither name acquired by means of official
association any definite signification bevond the more or
less general ascription of superiority.- ^
It is exceedingly difficult to distribute titles~of honour,
into rigidly distinct categories. The following is as_near
an approximation as we are able to make.
I. Supreme Sovereign Titles. — Among titles implying sovereignty
the first place is occupied by "emperor" and "king." Under
existing international arrangements the crowned head* of Europe
take precedence according to the' date of theii' accession, and their
rank is precisely the same, whether their style is imperial or royal.'
Hut the proper meaning of emperor is the chief of a confederation
of states of which kings are members. The German emperor is an
emperor in this sense, and he of course has precedence of the kings
of Saxony, Bavaria, and Wuftemberg, whose dominions are in-
cluded in his empire. But neither he nor the emperors of Russia
and Austria have any precedence as such of the queen of the
United Kingdom or the kings of Italy and Spain. Originally the
title of king was superior to that of emperor, and it was to avoid
the assumption of the superior title of rex that the chief magi.
strates of Rome adopted the names of Csesar, imjteralor, and prin-
crps to signalize their authority. Aa impcrator was the distimtivo
title of the ruler of the Western empire, so ySaiTiXew was the dis-
tinctive titl» of the ruler of the Eastern empire, and the Greek
^acriXcK 13 the exact equivalent of the Latin rex. The emperor of
the East was called airroKpirwp as well as /SoaiXfit. But ^oaAeii
came to mean the same as imperaior in so special a wav that the
word, p-j^ was borrowed to express what had grown to be the in-
ferior dignity of king.* Under Charlemagne the imperial style of
Rome anil the royal style of Germany wire united ' It was,
" " The baroo alone among the ranks of peerage can hardly be called
official, except so far as peerage itself is an office. His title rather
marks a rank or class than an office ; it does not at once point out eveo
the memory of distinct functions like those of the d'ikft,.tho marquis,
or the earl " {Longman's ^fag., vol. ii. p. 483).
• .Muller, Led. Hci. Lang.. 2d ser., p. 255.
' Freeman, Ciniipa.Tat've Politics, pp. 161162.^^
* "The great triumph in the life of Charles the Great was^when'tha
ambassadora of the Eastern emperor Michael addressed him according
to the full, imjierial style (Eginhanl, Annals, 812), " Aquisgrafil, nbi nl
tm[,enilorem venerunt . . more suo, id est, Glts^ca lingua, laudes ei
Jixenint, Imperaiorctn euni cl Basilcinn appellanles'" (Freeoiaa, Covi'
parative Politics, p. 353). Mr Freeman notices also the great con-
troversy concerning the impenal titles, especially the word fiaffiXfis.
which .irose three generations later between the emperors Basil the
.Macedonian and Lewis the Second. See also John Lydus, Di
Magistratidus, 1, 3, on the distinction between rvpoprot, fiaat\eCt, vii
airoKpiTwD, discossed in Freeman, Comp. Pot., p 445. "
" XXIIL — .S3i
418
TIT—TIT
however, from Csesar, *flich waa couimoii to the Wesiem ana the
f'aaterD emperors alike, that the Teutonic word for emperor—
kaiser — was derived Until cecent times, m fact, no sovereign
thought of TCalling himself emperor uuless he claimed in some way
to represent the Roman Ciesars Uu^vd to the beginning of the
19th century a German eiuperor whu was not Roman empefor
would have been ao anooialy At remule periods more than one
of the West Saxon kings called bunself eniperur of Britain, and
more than one king of Castile called himself emperor of the Spains.
But these assumptions apjHiai t^* have been merely intended as
protest5i against the assertinn of superiority over them by the
Roman em|».'rors German or Gret-k Later oo the kings of Portu
gal called th»*mseK■^'3 »-niiH:nir of thd Indies. But that title.iike
the quei-ij of the United Kingdom s title of empress of India, was
•econdary only and did not alfeut their ufficial designation in the
hierarchy of European sovBrfigna
Tho title of king does not suggest any of the questions which
^ave been raised by that of trm|»eror "TherH is. as Mr Freeman
faj'S, "a common idea of kingship which is at once recognized,
however hard it may be to ddine it This is ehowu amoug other
things by the (act that no difficulty u» ever felt as ro translating the
word king and the words which aii^jwer to it ut other languages."'
Etymologically indeed th« Romance and T»-ufODic words for king
have qiiite distinct origins. The Latin res corresponds to the
Sanskrit rajah, and meant originally steersman. The Teutonic
king on the contrary corresponds to the Sanskrit gmuika^ and
psimply meai*it father, the father ot a family, the king of his own
Jtin, the father of a clan, the father of a pfople "' In English
ithere is no feminine form of king like konigm, the feminine form
'<>{ konig in German. As the feminine equivalent of king, queen is
iused, which Prof Max Muller says is "the old word for mother "
He also cites the translation of the Bible by Ulfilaa in the 4th
Jjentury to prove its meaning ut that early period as wife or woman.
"The queen was in fact in a special sense " the woman." or " the
fwife,' the highest of women and the highest of wives in the king-
dom.* i^ing should properly describe the head of a nation in
'distinction from the heaa of a tribe, as emperor should pronerly
Idescribe the head of a confederation in distinction from the head
'of a nation. The idea of territonal sovereignty, of kingship over
a laud instead of over a people, grew up unuei the feudal system.
In Britain it was unknown until long after the Norman Conquest
jWilliam the Conqueror, like Harold or Edward, was king of the
English, and it was only from the reign of Henry II that his
successors were transformed into kings of England. The Eastern
;titles of sultan and shah are accepted as equivalent to those of em-
peror and king in the West The sovereigns of China and Japan
;are called emperors both in common and m diplomatic parlance.
II. HoTiorary Religious Titles of Sovereigns- — The'German em-
perors were formerly styled "defenders of the church," while the
kings of France were called " very christian majesty " and *' eldest
sons of the church." The queen of England is "defender of the
(faith," the emperor of Austria as king of Hungary "apostolic
majesty," the emperor of Russia as king of Poland "orthodox
(majesty," the king of Spain "catholic majesty," and the king of
Portugal "very faithful majesty." All these titles were originally
conferred by the popes. But the queen of the United Kingdom
.* Freeman, Comp. Pol., p. 138.
^ Max MuUer, Lect. ;Scu Lang., 2d ser., p. 255. "All people,
feave those who fancy that the name king has something to do with a
'Tartar A/ian or with a "cannmg" or "cunning" man. are agreed that
the English cyning and the Sanskrit ganaka both come from the same
root, from that widely spread root whence comes our own cyn or kin
and the Greek yivot. The only questiOD is whether there is any con-
nexion between cyning and ganaka closer than that which is implied
VD their both coming from the same original root That is to say, are
we to suppose that cymng and ganaka are strictly the some word com-
mon to Sanskrit and Teutonic, or is it enough to think that cymng is
lu independent formation made after the Teutons had separated them-
selves from the common stock "• . The difference between the two
Jorivations is not very remote, as the cyn is the ruling idea m any
case ; but if we make the word immediately cognate with ganaka we
hring in a notion about ' the father of his people ' which has no place
if we simply deriv** cyning from cyit " {Freeman, Comp. Pot , pp.
450-451 , see also his Nonru Conq.^ vol. i. p. 583, and Orowlh of
^Jtc English Constitution, p. 171)
* '"^he king's w-ife was called regina in Latin from the beginning ;
but there is no English word answering to ngina : we have not and
n'-^'er had any worJ like the German konigin. The queen is simply
queer {r,oen), woman, wife, the highest of wives in her husband's
acninions So the earl ? wife was .simply the earl's wife ; the Nor-
fnan style of connTt-ji?; now caroe ip to £b up what was thought a
defect So with all Ktrictly English titles, knight, sheriff, portreeve,
•Iderman ■ they hav#. dp ff mmines , in most cases the wife does not
share her husband ^ dignity But the mayor, being a French title,
toas his mayoress, just as the duke has his duchess '* {Freeman on
"JTitles J-' in Longman' x Magazine^ x^^h ii. ft,,485)j
and the emti^ror oi ^^..^una atone umpM-y thfcui aa part of tH^
official description
III InferxoT Titles of Sovereignty — Grand-dokes rank next ta
kings.. Grand duke was the original title of the czars and wa^
introduced into western Europe by Pope Pius V., who created
Cosimo de Medici grand-duke of Tuscany m the last half of the
16th century There are now seven reigning grand -^nkes in
Germany Pnoce and duke are title.^ also borne oy the reignme.
chiefs of minor Germanic states. There ar« reigning princes oi
Monaco and Montenegro. The Eastern equivalents for these sub;;
ordinate titles are khedive, emir khan, and bey.
IV. Titles of Notnlity —The titles of the greater nobility are
pnoco, dake, marquis, earl or count vL><',ount, and baron, and most
of them exist in all European empires and kingdoms. In the
United Kingdom there are no princes outside the royal family.
In Russia thert- ure no dukes except the imperial grand -dukes
and neither marquises nor viscounts. In Germany there are no
viscounts. Among the titles of the losaer nobdity or gentry barone^
and esquire are peculiar u^ tb« United Kingdom Knight chevalier^
and ritter are recognized throughout Europe, and as far as Persia
and Japan. Of old time in Scotland baron, now represented by
laird, was not a title of the greater nobdity, and the same may D»
said of fre-Lke-rr in Germany The peculiar designations of th»
chit^fsof some of the Scottish clans and Irish septs, as The Chisholm,
The O DoDoghu^-. Cameron of Lochiel. Macgillicuddy of the Reeks^
and others must also be included among titles of honour. It-
would be improper to prefix "mister," or to affix "esquire," to-
then names in addxe^ng tLtm either orally or in writing, and
their wives are always called m-f iam. Pasha, bey, and effondi aro
the most familiar of the Eastern titles of nobility. The eccleai-«
astical titles of archbishop, bishop, dean, &c., and the militarj^
and naval titles of 6eld-marshal, admiral, general, colonel, majorat
captain, &c., aru common to all the countries of Europe, and
are expressed by words in their several languages which are the
precise equivalents of each other. But their incidentally digni&ed
character is so overshadowed by their essentially admiaistrativ^
character that they can be regarded as titles of honour only in th<(
same sense as the titles of officers of state or justice.
To the foregoing titles of honour may be added the large assort?
ment of complimentary epithets which are attendant on them, and!
which are used as alternatively descriptive of the persons by whomj
they are borne The Roman Caesars were by decree of the senate
called in Latin angustus, or sacred, which was rendered in Greek!
by o'e;3tt(rT6s, or adorable. They were also habitually styled divif
jnus a.nd felix, cl-emens, tranquillus, and sanctissimtls. Jkugxistalis
jnajestas and 07(0 0a<Ti\cia were among the styles of the Western'
and Eastern emperors respectively. Majesty, sacred majesty, oil
Caesarean majesty, was the peculiar title of the emperors, and it
was not assumed by any of the other sovereigns of Europe until
comparatively modern times. But it is* said to have been adopted
in France as early as the reign of Louis XI , in England the first
king who used it was Henry VI II. Before that the kings of Eng-j
land had been called grace and highness, and sometimes excellent
grace and kingly highness. All emperors are now imperial majes-
ties, and all kings majesties, while grand-dukes, roj'al highueases,
and all inferior reigning potentates are highnesses of one sort or
another Imperial or royal higiiness is the proper title of the son*
and daughters of emperors and kings, serene highness, or highneaa
merely, being that of the member) of princely families. The
German hohcit, althougti it is commonly employed as the equivalent
of highness or a/tesse. has a special signification of its own. It
holds an intermediate rank between altesse royal or royal highnes*
and altesse s^r^n tssime or serene highness, unless it is qualified by
the adjectives kaistrlichc or konigliche. For many years, however,
it has been appropriated to the less important reigning and the
mediatized princely houses, to distinguish them from the princely
houses of new creation and the mediatized countly houses, to whonk
the titles ot durcklaiicht r.nd cr.'ancM are severally a.ssigned. In
the United Kingdom grace is the title of dukes and duchesses, and
lordship and ladyship of all other grades of tho peerage and the
bearers of courtesy titles of superior rank to any one of them.
Dukes and duchesses are styled most noble, marquises and mart
chionesses most honourablo, and all other peers and peeresses, lorde'
and ladies by courtesy ; pri^ councillors and the lord mayor of
London are styled right honourable. Honourablo is the title of
the younger sons ol carls, the sons and daughters of viscounts and
liapons. and the judges of the High Court of .lustice. Archbishops
are most reverend, bishops right reverend, dean? very reverend/
archdeacons venerable, and all clcr,_;ymcn reverend The pope is
hi5t holine&s. and cardinals are eminences. Viceroys, ambassadors,'
and governors are excellencies. But we have not yet rivalled the
nice gradations in the descending scale of jllitsfrcs, sffcctabilcs, clar^
issimi, perfectissimt. and cgfegii which characterized the official 0^
administrative hierarchy of the later Roman empire. (F. DR.)
TITMOUSE (Anglo-Saxoii Mase and Ti/tmase, Germai.
Meise^ Swedish Mes^ Dutch J/ew^, prench jt^esan/yc), th^.
T I T — T T T
419
I
Tiame' long in nse. for several species of sraafl English
birds which are further distinguished frou one snother
by some characteristic appellation. These go to make up
the genus Parus of Liunxus, and with a very uncertain
number of other genera form the Family Paridx of
Wiodera ornithology. Its limits are, however, very ill-
'defined ; and here only*flie species best known to English
jeadcrs can be noticed.
The first tc be mentioncJ is that called from its comparatively
large sue the Great Titmouse, P. mnjor, but known alao in many
^rts as the Oxeye,' conspicuous by its black head, white checks,
and yellow breast, down which runs a black line, while in spring
the cock makes himself heard by a loud love-note that resembles
the noise made in sharpeninf: a saw. It is widely distributed
throughout the British Islands, and over nearly the whole of
Europe and northern Asia. The next is the Blue Titmouse, Blue-
cap, or Nun, P con'^ikns, smaller than the last and more common.
Its names are so characteristic aa to make any description needless.
'a third common species, but not so numerous as either of the
^foregoing, is the Coal-Titmouse, P atcr, distinguished by its black
«ap, white cheeks, and white nape. Some interest attaches to this
species because of the diflerence observable bt-twccn the race in-
habiting the scanty n^mnants of the ancient Scottish forests and
'that which occurs throughout the rest of Britain. The former is
more brightly tinted than the latter, having a clear bluish grey
tuantle and the lower part of the back greenish, hardly cither of
jwhicli colours are to be seen in the same parts of more southern
examples, which last have been describi-d as forming a distinct
species, P britanutcus Hut it is to be observed that the denizens
of the old Scotch firwoods arc neatly midway in coloration between
the diiig>' southern birds and those whii h prevail over the greater
part of the Continetit. It would lliertTore seem unreasonable to
speak of two species only ; there should be eilhcr three or one, and
the latter allei native is to bo preferred, provided the existence of
the local races be duly recognized Much the same thing is to be
noticed in the next species to be mentioned, the Marsh Titmouse,
,P. pafustris, which, sonibie as is its plumage, is subject to con-
siderable local variation in its very extensive ran^e, and has been
called P bvrcnhs in Scandinavia, P. afpcslris in the Alps, and P.
•lugxihris in sonlhcastcrn Europe, to say nothing of forms like
P. battraknsis, P. armchatkcn^s, and others, whose names denote
its local variations in northern Asia, w-hile no great violence is
exercised if to these be tacked on P airicnpilla with several
geographical races which inhabit North Ameiica A fifth British
species is the rare Crested '^itniouse, P. cristatzis, only fountl in
limited districts in Scotland, though common enough, especially
:in pine-w-oods. in many jiarts of Europe.
It is impossible to stale how many species of Pants exist, their
recognition at present Iwing wholly subiective to the view taken
by the investigator of the group. Its latest monographer is Dr
■Gadow {Cnl B Dr i/useutn, viii. pp. 3-53), who recognizes forty-
eight, bt-sides several subspecies North-American ornilhologisls
include some fifteen as inhabitants of Canada and the United States ;
but scarctly tw-o wiitcrs agree ou this point, ow-ing to the existence
of so many loc.il forms. Of the species inhabiting the Indian and
Ethiopian Regions there is no sp.are here to treat, and foi the same
reason ihc presumably allied forms of Australia and New Zealand
must be left unnoticed During the gieatcr part of the year the
various species of the genus Pnnu asson-itc in family parties in a
way that has been alieady dcscrilied (BrnDS, vol. iii., p 7CG), and
only break up into fairs at the bi-ginning of the breeding-season.
The nests are nearly always placed in a hollow stump, and consist
'of a mass of moss, feathers, and hair, t)ie last being worked almost
into a kind of felt. Thereon ihe eggs, often to the number of eight
or nine, are laid, and these have a translucent white shell, freckled
or spotted with riist colour. The first pluniage of the young
closely resembles that of the parents ; but, so far as is known, it has
always a yellower tinge, veiy apparent on the ]»arts, if there be
such, which in the adid; are white. Few birds are more restless
in disposition, and if " irritability" lie the test of high organiza-
tion, as a much bepraised systematiat asserts, the Paridx should
stand very near the top of the list. RIost of the European species
and some of the North-American become familiar, haunting the
neighbourhood of houses, especially in winter, and readily availing
* iTie prefijt "Tu," by heedless writers often used alone, though
equally proper to the Titlark (cf Pipit, vol xix. p. 112), is perhaps
cognate with the Greek riTi's, which ongioally meant a small chirping
bird {Amt. flat. I/ntori/, ser. 4, x. p. 227), and has a diminutive t^orm
in the Icelandic Tillinfjur—lhi: English or at least Scottish Titling.
It is by false aoalr^gy that the plural of Titmouse is made Titmice i it
■bould be Tit-mouses. A nickname is verj* often ad<h-d, as with many
other famHiar English birds, and in this case it is "Tom.''
' The signification of this name is obscure. It may perhaps" be
correlated with a Swedish name for the bird — Talgozc -
themselves of sucn scraps of food, about the nature oi wdiich tncj
are not particular, as they can get.^' By gardeners every Tit-
moaso is generally regarded as an enemy, for it is supposed to do
infinite damage to the buds of fruit trees and bushes ; but the
accusation is wholly false, for the buds ilestroycd are always found
to be those to which a grub — the bud's real object — has got access,
so that fl'ere can be little doubt that the Titmouse is a great
benefactor to tho horticulturist, and hanlly ever more so than
when the careless spectator of its deeds is supposing it to be bent
on mischief
Akin to the genus Pans, but in many respects differing from it)
is Acredula^ containing that curious-looking bud the Long-tailed or
Bottle-Titmouse, with its many local races or species, wliich must
be here passed over without a word. The bird itself, having its
tail longer than its l)ody, is unlike any other found in the northern
hemisphere, while its nest is a perfect marvel of construction,
being in shape nearly oval with a small hole in one side. The
exterior is studded with pieces of lichen, worked into a firm texture
of moss, wool, and spiders' nests, and the inside is profusely lined
with soft feathers — 2379 having been, says Macgillvi-ay. couuted
in one cxampln. Not inferior in beauty or ingenuity is tho nest
built by the Pendulina Titmouse, jSgithalus pendulmus, of the
south of Europe, which diifers, however, not merely in composition
but in being suspended to a bough, while the former is nearly
always placed betweeu two or more branches.
The so-called Bearded Titmouse, Panurus biarmicus,
has habits wholly unlike those .of any of the foregoing,
and certainly does not belong -to the Family Paridx,
though its real affinity has not yet been clearly shown.
It was formerly found in many parts of England, especially
in the eastern counties, where it bore the name of Recd-
Pheasanf ; but through the draining of meres, the destruc-
ticfti of rccd-beds, and (it must be aiidod) the rapacity of
collectors it now only exists as a native in a very few
localities. It is a beautiful little bird of a bright tawny
colour, variegated with .black and white, while the cock is
further distinguished by a bluish grey head and a black
tuft of feathers on each §ide of the chin. Its chief food
seems to be the smaller ..kinds of freshwater mollusks,
which it finds among the reed-beds it seldom quits."
The general affinities of the Panda: seem to lie rather
with the Sutidx {cf. NnTH.\TCH, vol. xvii. p. GG5) and
the Tree-Creepers; and those systematists who would
ally them to the Laniidx (Shrike, vol. xxi. p. 845), or
still more interpose the last between the former FamiJies,
have yet to find grounds for so doing. . (a. N.)
TITUS. By this, his Roman praenomen/ is usually
knowTi the eleventh of the Twelve Cossars, Titus Flavius
S/VBi.vDs Vespaslo'us, emperor from 79 to 81 a.d. With
his father Vespasiali, who rose to empire from the camp,'
began tho Flavian line of emperors, the last three CxsarsJ
Titus was born in 40, the year of the assassination of the
fourth Coesar, Caius Caligula, and was brought up in the
household of Claudius, with that emperor's son, Britanni-
cus. There was a story that he was dining at Nero's
table when Britannicus was poisoned, and that he himself
tasted the fatal cup, and had in consequence a serious
illness. Some time afterwards he erected two statues to
the young prince's memory. Educated in the imperial
court, he was thoroughly trained in all elegant accom-
plishments : he could speak Greek fluently,, and could
compose verses ; he was a proficient in muaic , lie could
write shorthand, and could imitate handwriting oo skil-
fully that he used to say that he might have been a most
^ Persons fond of watching the h.ibits of birds may with little
trouble provide a j'leasiiig spectacle by adopting the plan, practised
by the late Mr A. E. Knox, of hanging a lump of suet or tallow by a
short string to tho end of a flexible rod stuck aslant into the ground
close to the window of a sitting- room. It is seldom long before a
Titmouse of some kind finds the dainty, and once found visile are
made to it until every ninr^el is picked oil". The attitudes of the birdi
as they cling to the swinping lure are very diverting, and.noue but ft
Titmouse can sutceeil in keeping a foothold upon it.
* Tlie common nanies given to this bird are so very inapplicable
that it is a pity that *'Silerella" (from st/er, an osier) bestowed upon
it by Sir T. Bro^vne, its original discoverer, caiuiot be restored.
420
T T T— T 1 TJ
successful forger. '"He was very handsome, with a fine
•commanding expression, and a vigorous- frame, well
trained in all the exercises of a soldier. As a young man
he served wfth credit in Germany and in Britain, and he
practised at the bar. Soon he had the command of a
legion, and joined his father in Syria ; he took an active
part ia the Jewish war, capturing several important fort-
resses, among them Tarichaese and Gamala. In 68 he
went at his father's bidding on a visit of congratulation
to the newly proclaimed emperor, Galba ; but, hearing of
Galba's death and of the general confusion in the Roman
world, he returned to his father in Palestine, having in
the meantime consulted the oracle of the Paphian Venus
as to his prospects and received a favourable answer.
In the following year Vespasian, who, through his son's
pleasing manner and adroit management, had made a
friend of Mucianus, the governor of Syria, became em-
peror, and left Titus to finally settle the Jewish war by
the capture of Jerusalem. Titus conducted the siege of
the city, which for some months was defended amid in-
credible horrors, with signal ability, and took and destroyed
it in September 70. The army saluted their victorious
general by the title of "imperator"; in the East Titus
was now supreme, andjiractically emperor. On his return
to Italy by way of Alexandria he fell in with that strange
professor of mystical philosophy and magic, Apollonius of
Tyana, and listened, it is said, to his pedantic talk and
advice. ■ As soon as bo arrived at Rome there was the
usual triumph for a decisive victory, and both father and
son shared it. On the arch of Titus, as it is called,
erected some few years afterwards (see vol. xx. p. 830),
may still be seen sculptured representations of Jewish
captives and of the captured trophies. Titus was now
formally associated with his father in the government, with
the title of Caesar, and during the nine remaining years of
.Vespasian's reiga he controlled the administration, and
•was in fact emperor. ' He was anything but popular ; he
had the character of being luxurious, self-indulgent, pro-
fligate, and cruel. Summary execution of obnoxious per-
sons seems to have been not uncommon. There was a
bad scandal too about his connexion with the .shameless
Jewish beauty Berenice, the sister of the Agrippa of the
Acts of the Apostles ; both brother and sister followed
Titus to Rome, and were allowed to reside in the imperial
palace. • Public opinion at Rome was outraged, and Titus,
though he had promised Berenice marriage, felt obliged
to send her back to the East. Vespasian died in 79,
leaving his son a safe throne and a well-filled treasury.
The forebodings of the people were agreeably disappointed,
for Titus, who, it was feared, would be a second Nero,
■was known as the " love and delight of mankind." It is
possible that his popularity was in some degree due to
the fears which the depravity of his brother Doraitian,
who, it was known, was to succeed him, had begun to
excite; but he had the tact to make himself liked by all.
He seems to have been thoroughly kindly and good-
natured ; he delighted in giving splendid presents, and
his memorable saying, "I have lost a day," is said to have
been uttered one evening at the dinner table when he
suddenly remembered that he had not bestowed a gift on
any one that day.
Titus, like his father, spent money on great public works
and in adding to the magnificence of Rome. The Colosseum
was completed and d.dicated in his reign, with combats of
gladiators, shows of wild beasts, and sham sea-fights and
representations of some of the great Greek naval battles.
He gave the city what we should now call "a people's
palace" in his splendid baths, which surpassed those of
Agrippa and of Nero, and supplied the D\ob with every
luxurious appliance free of cost.
Durmg his reign, in 79, occurred the memorable erup."
tion of Vesuvius which destroyed Herculaneum and
Pompeii. The emperor visited the scenes of desolation
and contributed liberally to the relief of the distressed
inhabitants. During his absence a fire raged for three
days at Rome, in which the Capitol was burnt ; then
followed a pestilence, and again Titus not only helped
freely with his purse, but took pains to acquaint himself
with the sufferers and gave them his personal sympathy.
Italy and the Roman world generally were quiet and peace-
ful during this brief reign. The only fighting was in
Britain under Agricola, who in the year 80 carried the'
Roman arms into Scotland as far as the Tay. In the
following September Titus died, being in his fortieth
year, after a reign of two years and rather more than
two months. On his deathbed he said, so the story went,
that there was but one thing of which he repented : this
was commonly supposed to point to his having spared to
punish his brother Domitian, who had more than once
plotted against his life, and whose succession to empire he
must have felt would be a calamity for Rome. The verdict
of history is on the whole favourable to Titus, and perhaps
deservedly so ; but the general feehng throughout the
Roman world after his death was that he had been
fortunate in the briefness of his reign,
An admirable account of this emperor Will be found in Merivale's
History of the Romans KwUr the Empire, ch. 60. ' ' (W. J. B. ) ,
TITUS, one of the companions of ^t Paul, was of Greek
origin (Gal. iL 3), and appears to have been among the
apostle's earliest converts ; he is first mentioned (Gal. ii.
1) as having accompanied Paul, then in the course of his
second missionary journey, from Antioch to Jerusalem.
Here the Judaizing brethren desired that he ?lWald be
circumcised; but the liberty of the gospel was successfully
maintained. He was afterwards sent by Paul from
Ephesus to Corinth, with, it would seem, a letter, no
longer extant, more than once referred to in 2 Corinthians
(ii. 3, vii.'S; comp. vol vi. p. 401).; He rejoined the
apostle with favourable reports from Corinth in Mace-
donia, and was again sent (from Philippi) with another
epistle, probably what is now known as the second, to the
Corinthians, and charged with the further duty of promot-
ing the proposed collection for poor Christians in Judsea,
This is practically all that is kno\vn of him from the un-
disputed Pauline epistles. He is nowhere mentioned in
the Acts. In the pastoral epistle with which his name is
associated he is represented (Tit. i. 5) as having been
left by Paul in Crete to " set in order the things that are
wanting, and ordain elders in every city." He is expected
afterwards to join Paul at Nicopolis (iii. 1 2). In 2 Tim.
iv. 10 he is spoken of as having gone to Dalmatia. Tradi-
tion, obviously resting on the Epistle to Titus, has it that,
he died in Crete as bishop at an advanced age. ''^_ .^--^
TITUS, Epistle TO.; \See Pastoral Epistles, vof,
xviii. p. 348 sq. ^ _^^, .
TITUSVILLE, a city of the United States, in Craw-
ford county, Pennsylvania, in 41° 38' N. lat. and 79*
42' W. long., stands upon Oil Creek, in the midst of the
oil region of north-western Pennsylvania. Its predomin-
ant industries have reference to the production, refining,
and transportation of petroleum. It has two railroads—
the Dunkirk, Allegheny, and Pittsburg, and the Bufiklo,'
New York, and Philadelphia. The city had a population
of 8639 in 1870 and of 9046 in 1880.
Titusville, originally a small lumbering town, bc^n its oaroer
of prosperity in 1859, when oil was discovered in this region, and
during the'succecding years it was the scene of very great activity.
It was chartered in 1867, when at the zenith of its prosperity.
Since that time it has settled down to a less feverish and mora
healthy growth.
TIUMEN. \ See Tyumen..
T I V — T L A
421
TIVERTON', a borough of Devonshire, England, is
finely situated in the midst of beautiful scenery at the con-
fluence of the Lowman and the Exe, 14| miles north of
Exeter and 1S4 west-south-west of London. Al)ranch line
connects it with the Great Western, and the Exe Valley
Railway with Exeter and Dulverton. The greater part of
the town is on the left bank of the Exe ; the four principal
streets are wide and regular. Since 1262, when Amicia,
countess of Devon, caused a stream of water to be directed
from Norwood to Tiverton, a distance of 5 miles, every
street has had a constantly flowing supply. At points
now spanned by bridges there were formerly two fords, one
over the Exe and the other over the Lowman ; hence
Twofordton and Twj-fordton the former names of the town.
There still remain the principal gateway and an octagonal
turret of the ancient castle (now a private residence), built
in 1106 by Richard de Riparus'or Redvers, first earl of
Devon, and the chief residence of the Redvers till the execu-
tion of Henry Courtenay, marquis of Exeter, in 1539. The
most ancient part of the church of St Peter is the Norman
doorway; the embattled western tower is 120 feet in
height. For Blundell's free grammar-school (1604) new
buildings have recently been erected in the Tudor style.
Among other educational establishments are the school of
science and art, the blue <foat charity school (1714; re-
established as a middle boys' and middle girls' school in
1876), and the Chilcott free school (1611). The other
principal public buildings are the market-house (1830-31),
the infirmary (1852), the town-hall (1864), and several
almshouses. Tiverton was formerly famed for its woollen
manufacture, introduced in the 14th century; its annual
returns in 1612 ware estimated at £300,000, about 8000
persons being employed in the industry. It is now chiefly
noted for its lace manufacture, established by John Heath-
coat, the inventor of the bobbin net frame. The popula-
tion of the municipal borough (area, 17,491 acres) in 1871
was 10,024, and in 1881 it was 10,462.
The towu existed in Sa.>;on times. In the reign of Edward the
Confessor it was held by vassals or servants, and in Domesday it
is entered as terra regis. In 1200 it had a market and three annual
fairs. After the introduction of the woollen trade in 1353 it rapidly
increased, and Camden states that the trade had brought it " much
gain and glory." The town and castle were taken by Fairfax in
1645. Tiverton suffered from the plague in 1591 (when it had 5000
inhabitants), and from fire in 1598, 1612, and 1731. It was incor-
porated by James I. in 1615 ; but in 1732 its charter was forfeited,
and a second was not bestowed till 1 737. The borough was deprived
of parliamentary representation in 1885.
See Harding'3 HlsUrry of Tiverton, 2 vols., 1845.
TIVOLI (Lat. Tibur), a town of Italy,' situated 17
miles east -north -east of Rome on one of the spurs of
Monte Ripoli, 830 feet above the sea. Its position is
very striking and beautiful - it stands partly at the edge
of the lofty clifi' over which the river Anio falls in a most
• imposing mass of water. The present aspect of the fall
is very difi"erent from what it was in ancient times, as the
water has undermined and carried away great masses of
the rock. In 1881 the population of the town was
9730, and of the commune 10,297.
Ancient Tibur was founded, according to the legend adopted by
the Roman ppets, many centuries before Rome, by the Siculi.'
They were expelled by a Greek named Tiburtus, the sou of Catil-
lus, who became the eponymous hero of Tibur.- During the early
historic period Tibur, which stood on the borders of the Sabine
territory, was always a bitter enemy of Rome, and on many
occasions allied itself to various peoples, even the Gauls, in their
attacks on the city. With the rest of Latium, Tibur was finally
conquered by Rome in 335 B.C., and on account of its constant
enmity was treated with much severity, not being admitted to the
Roman franchise till towards the close of the republican period.
Almost no mention of Tibnr occurs during the time of the empire ;
but the t&\\Ti is recorded to have suffered severely during the Gothic
invasion in the 6th century.
' Dion., i. 16, and PUd., B. N., xvi. 87.
' » Hor, Od,. i. 18, 2 ; Ov., Fast., v. 74 ; Virg., ^n., viL 670.
Remains of its city wall still exist, built of s,|uarod blocks of
tufa ; but the whole circuit is not clearly determinable. Even
the site of the large and wealthy temple of Hercules is doubtful,
which stood in an extensive temenos, containing libraries and »
portions, where Augustus sometimes administered justice.' At the
ed£6 of the cliff still stands a small circular temple, of doubtful
dedication, which once had eighteen columns, and closely re-
sembled that in the Forum Boanum of Rome. Its cella walls are
of concrete faced with opus reticulatum, and its columns of tra-
vertine ; it dates from about the time of Christ. Its popular
name is the "temple of the Sibyl."* Close by is another small
prostyle -tetrastylo temple resembling that (so called) of Fortuna
Virilis in Rome. Remains of tho circuit wall of the forum also
exist, with a large apsidal projection, as, well as an extensive
crypto- porticus, faced with blank arcading and divided internally
by a row of twenty-eight columns. Tibur was a favourite summer
residence of many wealthy Romans under the empire, and
especially of Horace and Maecenas.' One of the chief aqueducts of
Rome, "Anio vetus," started from the Anio at Tibur. The
ancient "lapis Tiburtinus" (modern travertine) was so called
from its chief quarries at Tibur, where i,t has been during long
ages deposited by the water of the river Anio.
Hadrian's villa, which stands at the foot of tho Tibur spur of
hill about 2 miles distant, is one of the most important Roman
remains in the world. Between 1870 and 1882 the greater part of
its immense area was excavated ; the whole circuit wis once no
less than 8 miles. The scheme of this wonderful group of build-
ings was the fancy of the rich and highly educated emperor
Hadrian, who desired to>reproduce, within a short distance of
Rome, a number of tho chief Greek sites and buildings which he
had visited in different parts of the world. Besides his own palace
he built a large stoa poecile, copied from that at Athens, an odeum,
a lyceum, an academy (with its gardens, halls, and porticus),
libraries, Latin and Greek theatres, a stadium, palccstra, hippo-
diome, baths, and many temples. Large gardens, divided into an
artificial "Vale of Tempe," " Elysian Fields," and "Tartarus,"
were watered by a winding stream named the "Euripus." In
another place stood a "serapeum," copied from that at Alexandria,
and filled with pseudo-Egyptian statues and reliefs, many of which
have been recently unearthed. Barracks for the prstorian guard
and rows of dwellings for slaves completed this magnificent group
of buildings. In many parts the existing remains are well pre-
served and in some cases the uses of the dilferent buildings can be
determined.' The main walls aro of concrete faced with mixed
brick and opus reticulatum, once wholly covered with magnificent
Oriental marbles and crowded with fine Greek and GrKco-Roman
sculpture ; mosaic of marble and glass was lavishly used for floors,
walls, and vaults, together with the most elaborate painted decora-
tions. A large number of fine works of art have been discovered
here, such as the mosaic of " Pliny's doves" and the Faun in rosso
antico now in the Capitol. It is probable that the Venus de'
Medici came from this villa, together with many other statues
found in the 16th century vt'bose provenance is now forgotten.
TLAXCALA {Tlascala, i.e., " House of Bread "), an his-
torical city of Mexico, capital of the state of Tlaxcala, which
nearly coincides with tho old native republic of Tlaxcala,
occupying the easternmost of tho four sections into which
the Anahuac plateau is here divided by ranges of hills,
between 19° and 20° N. lat. The modern town, standing
on the site of the old Indian ca|iital, lies (in 19° 19' N.
lat., 98° 6' W. long.) on the little river Papagallo (Atoyac,
formerly Zahuatl), which flows between two hills at aD
altitude of considerably over 7000 feet, some 30 miles-
north of La Puebia and 170 by rail from Vera Cruz.
Tlaxcala was founded probably about the close of the
13th century, when the TIaxcaltecs, a branch of the
Nahuatl race closely akin to the Aztecs, withdrew from
the western side of the central lacustrine district and
established a powerful democratic state in a somewhat
secluded, hill-encircled, but highly productive tract, 90
miles in length by 70 in breadth, with a total area of
over 1550 square miles.. The TIaxcaltecs, hereditary foes
of the Aztecs, became, after a short resistance (September
1519), the firm allies of the Spaniards, their co-operation
contributing largely, if not mainly, to the overthrow of
' See App., Bell. Civ., v. 24 ; and Suet., /I "jr., 72.
* It has also been called the temple of Vesta, but the rpal site of
this last was on the other side of the river. , ''
' Hor., Ocl., I 7," 10, and ii. 6, 5.
' Many of the names given to different parts by the Roman antii
quaries are based on mere conjecture.
422
.T L E — T O A
the Mexican empire. "But the resuIC was the enslavement
of Tlaxcala itself, the general decay of the country, and
the dispersion of most of the inhabitants by Cortes.
'Although now reduced to a population of a little over
6000, or, including the commune, to 36,000, and with no
monuments beyond a fine church, an old episcopal palace,
and a town-hall, the city at the time of the conquest was
a very large place, containing nearly as many inhabitants
as the whole of the modern state (130,000). When
occupied by the Spaniards, its size and splendour excited
the admiration of Cortes, who describes it in somewhat
€.xaggerated language as " much larger and much stronger
iha.n Granada, with as fine buildings and much more people
than Granada had at the time it was captured, also much
better supplied with the things of the earth " (Cartas, 67).
It was disposed in four distinct quarters separated by high
stone walls, each with a palace for the ruling chief, besides
temples, and stone buildings for the nobles. But most of
the other houses were low mud or adobe structures. In
the daily market, which was said to be frequented by
30,000 people, were exposed for sale the products (j£ .the
surrounding country, — mai^e, maguey (extracted from' the
aloe), and chilli pepper ; to these are now added ^heat,'
barley, pease, lentils, and a great variety of fruits.
' A prominent feature of the landscape is the Sierra de Malintzi. or
Malinche, that is, " Lord of Marina," a name given to Corte3 aft«r
his alliance with the "heroine of the conquest." The Sierra
{originally Matlacuezatl), which rises grandly (more than 16,000
feet) above the plateau, takes a prominent place in Tlaxcaltecan
mythology, owing to the peculiar shape of its summit, representing
in rougli outline the body of a native woman lying at full length in
its grave and partly wrapped in its cerements. There are some
woollen manufactures, centred chiefly in the capital, and also a
few silver, copper, lead, and coal mines in the San Ambrosio and San
Mateo ranges ; but the state is essentially agricultural, yielding
large annual crops of maize and wheat, the total produce losing
valued at over £1,000,000.
f TLEMCEN, or TilimsIn, a town of Algeria, chef-lieu of
anarrondissement in the department of Oran, lies 86 miles
S.W. of Oran, 2625 feet above the sea, on a terrace on the
northern slope of a range of rocky hills (3430 feet). Its
•white minarets, towers, and battlements rise picturesquely
above the surrounding verdure, which is nourished by
numerous springs, and even in ancient days gave rise to the
Roman name Pomaria. The various quarters are grouped
around the principal mosque, — the Je\vish to the south-
west, the Moorish to the south-east, that of the merchants
to the north-east, while the new town with the civic build-
ings lies to the north-west. Of the sLxty-four mosques
■which existed at the period of the French conquest, several
have disappeared. The great mosque has a minaret
adorned with marble columns, and cased with mosaic of
the most varied designs ; a fountain of alabaster stands
in the alabaster- paved inner court; and seventy-two
columns support the pointed arches of the interior. The
mosque of Abid Hasan, now used as a French and Arab
school, has two series of arches, which rest on alabaster
pillars, and the courts are ornamented by sculptures of ^reat
beauty and richness ; the delicately carved cedar ceiling
bears traces of polychromatic painting. The mosque of
El-Halawi is specially interesting for the sculptured capitals
of its magnificent alalbaster columns. Tlemcen, besides
numerous other mosques, possesses a fine modern Roman
Catholic church in the Byzantine style and five syna-
f,ogues. The military authorities occupy the Mehuar or
•citadel, built in 1145, which separates the Jewish and
Moorish quarters, and was formerly the palace of the
nilers of Tlemcen. Only the mosque and the battlemented
wall, flanked by two towers, remain of its former magnifi-
cence. Among the antiquities preserved in the museum is
the epitaph of Boabdil, the last king of Granada, who
<lied at Tlemcen in 1494. The vast basin under the old
walls, now used as a reservoir (720 feet in length, 49t/
in width, and 10 in depth), was apparently made for naval
exhibitions bj- the sovereigns of Tlemcen. The barracks
of the Spahis occupy all that remains of Kissaria, a
settlement of European merchants from Pisa, Genoa,
Catalonia, and Provence. Leather, saddles, Turkish
slippers, arms, and woollen goods are manufactured in
Tlemcen ; the production of oil and flour and market-
gardening occupy Europeans and natives ; good tobacco
is also grown. There is an active trade in cattle, wool,
grain, and fruit. A railway (37 miles) is being built
(1887) to connect Tlemcen with Rahgun, its port. In
1886 the population (natives, Europeans, and Jews) was
19,745 (26,395 in the commune).
The town was ori^nally at Agadir (Pmnaria), to the east of th«
present site, where Roman inscriptions have been found. At the
time of the Arab invasion the district was Beld by the Beni Ifren
tribe of Zenata Berbers, who ultimately founded here the sove-
reignty of the Beni Ya'la (1002- 1080). In 1080 the Almoravid
king, after besieging and sacking the place, built a new town oa
the site of his camp. His successors reigned sixty-five yeari,
when, after holding Agadir four years against the enemy, .they
were overcome by the AlniohaJes, who massacred the inhabitants,
rebuilt, enlarged, and repeopled the ruined town, and surrounded
Tlemcen and Agadir with a common wall. Tlemcen nowflourished
greatly nnder the 'Abd al-Wad, also a Zenata dynasty, who ruled
nrst for the Almohades and after 1242 as nominal vassab of the
Hafsites of Tunis. In 1337 their power was temporarily extin.
gxiished by the Merinidj, who built the town of Mansujd, west
of Tlemcen. They left some fine monuments of the period 'of tbeLr
ascendency, which lasted twenty-two years. Once more, under the
'Abd al-Wad, from 1359 to 1553, Tlemcen enjoyed prosperity,
when it had a population of 125,000, an extensive trade, a brilliant
court, a powerful army, and its finest buildings were reared." The
Spanish occupation of Oran struck a fatal blow at the European
commerce of tne town, which gradually lost all its territory to the
Turks after they had seized Algiers. When the French entered
Algeria the sultans of Morocco were worsted by the Euluglis in
their attempt to bold the town. In 1834, and again in 1837,
Abd el-Kader sought to re-establish the ancient empire of Tlezncen,
but the French definitely took possession in January 1842.
TOAD. This animal belongs to the Anurous division
of the Amphibia, and toads and frogs are the only repre-
sentatives of the Anura or Batrachia indigenous to Britain.'
To an ordinary observer the toad is proved to be an am-
phibian by its moist soft skin, an anuran or tailless am-
phibian by the want of a separate taiL The toad difl'ers
from the frog in the following points : — It has no teeth
on either of its jaws- or on the roof of its mouth, while the
frog has a series of fine teeth on the upper Jaw and also
teeth on the palate ; the tongue in both animaJa is attached
in front and free behind, but that of the frog is forked at
its free extremity, that of the toad is not ; the skin of the
toad is rough vritl. large protuberant warts, while that of
the frog is smooth ; the body of the toad is more globular
and puffy than that of the frog ; the hind legs in the toad
are shorter, and the posterior digits not so completely
webbed, the animal being more terrestrial in its habits
than the frog. In the toad, as in the frog, there are four
digits anteriorly,, five posteriorly. The warts of the toad's
skin contain large cutaneous glands, which secrete a thick
yellowish fluid with acrid properties, capable of irritating
and producing slight inflammation on the human skin.
The use of this secretion is probably to protect the toad
from being devoured by camiForous animals. Like other
Amphibia, it has a large menlbranous bladder cpmmuni-,
eating with the terminal part of the intestine — the allantoic
bladder, — in which fluid accumulates, probably from the
kidneys, though the ureters do not open directly into the
bladder. The toad, when handled or alarmed in anyway,'
ejects the contents of its bladder. Owing to these peculi-
arities and its appearance, the animal is commonly rcgar^d
with loathing, and credited with far more poisonous- pro-
perties than it possesses. In its breeding habits the toad
resembles the frog : its eggs are fertilized ext«rnaUy at lli«
T 0 B— T 0 B
423
momcnt'of ertrusion, as in the frog, the parents resorting
to the water for the [lurposo of reproduction. The ova are
l.iiij in spring, and are arranged, not in shapcli-^ss masses,
but in a string containing a double series of eggs adher-
ing by their gelatinous envelopes , the string extends to a
length of three or four feet The tadpoles are similar to
those of the frog, lnjt blacker ; their nietainor|ihosis takes
place in the same manner, the three pairs of external gills
being first absorbed and replaced for a time by internal gills,
"which are in their turn lost, the branchial slits being i^loscd
by the coalescence of the opercular membrane with the
skiQ. The metamorphosis is complete m autumn. The
toad is carcuvoroui!, feeding on liies and other insects and
.worms. It hibernates in wnntor, passing its period of
torpidity ia holes or burrows in thf earth. The finding of
toads in a ..-tate of hibernation has given rise to stones
of their being found in the centre of trunks of trees or
imbedded in solid rock The myth of the jewel in the
bead (Shakespeare) is probably founded on the brightness
of the eyes, ia which the iris is (lame-coloured.
There are two kinds of tood in Dntain, — the Common
Toad, which is almost black in colour, and the Natterjack
Toad, which is Lghter, smaller, and has a bright yellow
line along iho middle of the b.ick. The length of the
•common toad is 3^ inches, of the natterjack 2J inches.
The male natterjack possesses a bladder or vocal sack
beneath the throat communicating with the mouth, which
acts as a resonator to its voice , its cry is " gluck gluck."
The vocal sack is absent in the common toad, and only in-
completely developed in the Green Toad of the Continent.
In zoological classification the (o.tI bi'lon;^ to the genus Biifn, first
constitiito'l by Lanronti in the S>i^<y}>v% H^pfihum, of uliich tlio fol-
lowuig diignosis is givrn in Ihc ^r;f Mt,s Cm Balr Sn! , ]f%2 —
Pupil horizontal. Tonf.nic elliptical or pynform, enlire and (roo
fcebiii'J. Vomerine and maxillary teeth none. Tjinpaiium ilis-
tinct or hidden, selOom absent Fingers fiee; toc3 more or less
Avebbed ; the tips >imple or ddated into small disks. Outer raet.a-
tarsals united, Otnostemum generally tnissmg . if present cartila
■gino'is; stemnm a cartilaj^nous plaii^. sometimes more or less
ossified along tbo median Une Diapopbyscs of sacral vertebne
'Dore or less dilated Terminal phalanges obtuso or triangular.
Distribution cosmopolitan, except Australia.
£u/ovulgaris, Laurenti. the Common Toad, is thns distinguished
^own without bony ridges. First finger as long a-s or longer than
the second. Parotids distinct Tympanum stiiallei than tbe eye
Toes half webbed ; no tarsal fold ; subarticular tuliercles of toes
(double. The species is widely dustnbuted, occurring throughout
jEurnpe. Asia, and north-west Afrir^a.
Biifo cnhmiia, Lauren'i, the Natter jack Toad, shows the follow-
ing differences from B. vulgaris —toes not half webbed , tj-mpanum
rather indistinct; a tarsal fold. It is distributed throughout
Europe.
According to Boulenger there are 77 species of Bu/o known, of
'which 35 arc confined to the Old World, the re^t to the American
continent. No species is common to tho two great continents.
iThe only other species occurring iu Europe twsides tho two which
are found in Uiitain is Bu/o wrirli.t, Laurenti, which ranges tlirough-
'out Europe, Asia, and North Africa
TOBACCO consists of the leaves of several species of
Nicotirmn (nat. ord. Solnn-aJ-.es), variously prepared for
Vise as a narcotic. ^VhUo it is principally manufactured
•or smoking, a large amovurt is also prepared for chewing,
and to a more limits! extent it is taken in the form of
snuff. Under one or other of these forms the use of
(tobacco is more widely spread than is that of any other
narcotic or stimulant,
.wry.. Although the fact has been controverted, there cannot
:be a doubt that the knowledge of tobacco and its u.ses
•came to the rest of the world from America. In Novem-
ber 1492 a party sent out by Columbus from tho vessels
of his first expedition to explore the island of Cuba
brought back information that they had seen people who
'carried a lighted firebrand to kindle fire, and perfumed
jthemselves with certain herbs which they carried along
.with them. The habit of snuft-taking wbs observed and
described by Ramon Pane, a Franciscan, nlio accompanied:
Columbus on his second voyage (1-194-'G), and the practice;
of tobacco-chewing was Erst seen by the Spaniards on the
coast of South America in 1-502 As the continent of
America was opened up and explored, it became evidtni,
that the consumption of tobacco, es[xcially by smoking.i
was a universal and immemorial usage, in many cases bound
up «Tth the nio^t significant and solemn tribal ceremonies.
The term tobacco apfiears nut to have been a commordy
used original name for the plant, and it has come to us
from a peculiar instrument used for inhaling its smoke by
the inhabitants of Ilispaniola (.San Donungo). The instru-
ment, desciibed by Oviedo ([liil'/na dt /us Inih(f.< Ofulctt-
tales, Salamanca, 1535), consisted of a small holl6w wooden
tube shaped Uke a Y- 'lie t^^o points of which being in-
serted in the nosfr-of the smoker, the other end was held
into the smoke of burning tobacco, and thus the fume?
were inhaled. This apparatus the natives called " tabaco ";
but it must be said that the smoking pipe of the con-
tinental tribes was entirely diDerenl from the imperfect
tabaco of the Canbees. Bcnzom, on the other hand, whose
Troi-fls in America (15-12-50) were published in 15G5,
says that the Mexican name of the herb was " tabacco."
The tobacco plant itself was first brought to Europe in
1558 by Francisco Fernandes, a physician who had been
sent by Philip II. of Spain to investigati the products oi
Mexico. By the French ambassador to Portugal, Jeac
Nicot, seeds were sent from the Peninsula to the queen,
Catherine de' Medici. Tho services rendered by Nicot in
spreading a knowledge of tho plant have been commemo-
rated in the scientific name of the genus Nicotima. At
first the plant was supposed to possess almost miracidous
healing powers, and was designated " herba panacea,"
" herba sanla," " sana sancta Indorum " ; " divine tobacco "
it is called by Spenser, and " our holy herb nicotian " by
William Lilly. While the plant came to Europe through
Spain, tho habit of smoking it was initiated and spread
through English example. Kalph Lane, the first governor
of Virginia, and Sir Francis Drake bi'ought wnth them io
1 586, from that first American possession of the English
croivn, the implements and materials of tobacco smoking,
which they banded over to Sir Walter Raleigh. Lane is
credited wnth having been the first English smoker, and
through the influence and example of the illustrious
Raleigh, who " tooke a pipe of tobacco a little before he
went to the scaflTolde," the habit became rooted among
Elizabethan courtiers. During the 17th century the
indulgence in tobacco spread with marvellous rapidity
throughout all nations, and that in tho face of the most
resolute opposition of statesmen and priests, the "counter-
blaste " of a great monarch, penal enactments of the most
severe description, the knout, exconimuuication, and capitaJ
punishment. ,
The speeie.s of Nicoiiana number about fifty, but those of which Botanjt
the leaves arc used as sources of tobacco are tew. "With the excep-
tion of two species, one native of New Caledonia, the other proper
to Au-sfralia. they are all of American origin. They form two
well-detined groups, the first of which is characterized by the
po.ssession of an elongated corolla tube, red in colour, tho plants
having a single unbranchcj stalk which attains a height of from
5 to 7 feet ; whUe to the second group belong such as have •
swollen corolla tube of a greenish-yellow colour, and a much-'
branched st/m reaching a height of only from 2 to 6 feet The'
tj-pe of the first group is the Virginian Tobacco, A'. Tabacuvi,\
while tho best known representative of the second is the GreeUi
Tob.acco, N. nistica. These two species, together with their)
numerous varieties, and with the Persian Tol)aeco, N. pcr^^a, — the*
sonrco of llio famous Tumbekj or Sliiraz tobacco, — aro the sole'
sources of commercial tobacco. N Tabacim is the species from ' '
which the tobaccos of Cub.a, the United States, and the Philippine
Islands, and the Latakia of Turkey, are derived, and it is thus
the source of not only the greater proportion of the tobacco of
commerce but also the most highly prized and valuable of tn
varieties. A'^nufico, originally a native of Brazil, is cultivated
4i4
TOBACCO
io a coiisiderable^fcent in SoutbCfirmaDy, Hang&ry» and thn East
The Virginian tob^ico* plant, A^ I'atacum^ is a coarse rank-
l^ning annual, with a simple unbranched cylindrical stem which
CttaiDs a height of 6 feet and upwards, terminating in a panicle
OiLDink.flowera. J t "has alternate simple oblong lanceolate leaves.
FigTI.— i'lowcrlng Tod of'J^. Tabacum.
those at the lower part of the stem being slightly atalkedrand of
large size, reaching to two feet in length, while the upper are semi-
amplcxicaul and of variable outline. "The seeds are brown in colour,
^rith a rough surface, of minute size, and exceedingly numerous, as
many as 40,000 having been counted on a single plant. The whole
of the green i>art3 of the plant are covered with long soft hairs
which exude a viscid juice, giving the surface a moist glutinous
feeling. The liairs are multicellular, and of two .kinds, one
branching and ending in a fine pointy while the other, unbranched,
terminates in a clump of small cells. Stomata occur on both
surfaces of the leaves, and, with the peculiar hair structure, render
the microscouic aunearauce of the plant highly characteristic.
Fig. 2.— Microscopic Structure of Tobacco Leaf.
Cultlva> Tobacco* will flourish over wide areas and in very'dissimilar
tion; 3Cliraates, but it is best suited for regions having a mean tempera-
lure of not less than 40° T. and where early autumn frosts do not
occur. It develops the most highly appreciated qualities in tropical
lands possessed of a comjiarativcdy dry climate. Tobacco is a most
fxhausting crop, and requires rich and abundant manuring, the
character of wliich exercises a distinct inlluence on the quality of
the product. A crop grown under such widely ditfcrent conditions
of climate and agriculture as is the case with tobacco must of
:iccessity be suhjoct to vaiicd treatment both in cultivation and in
ijuring, and here we can refer only to, the geueral features of the
jTOwiug and securing of the crop.
,'Iu European cultivation, tlie tobacco-seed issownin^a hotbed
about the end of Maioh. The seed-beds are kept covered with
damp straw or williLMcd leaves till the seedlings appear above the
grcuod, aftiM- which the covering is removed, aud, to protect the
young jilants from frobt, to. wliich they arc extremely scrsitive, the
bedsore covered at night with mata. so soon as the plants can be
bandied, they are picked out in rows in a garden bed, where they
remain protected from night frost till they have developed five or
sir leaves and have a height of 3 to 4 inches. They are then ready
for transplanting, by preference in moist weather, into prepared
drills 20 to 25 inches apart in the field. The transplanting is
do:ie about the end of May, or earlier in localities free from nigh'
frf sts, and in dry weather the field is )>lentifully soused with liquid
manure. The plants are carefully weeded anil attended to, and
the soil is frequently stirred witli narrow hoes until the period!'
when they show symptoms of flowering. Tliis may be when theT
are only 3 feet high, or not until tliey have reached their propeij
beight,of 6 or 8 feet ; but the tlowers must not be allowed to form/
except in the case of a few plants left purposely for seed. TO
obtain fine and strong leaves on the plant is the great object of the'
cultivator, and a fiue tobacco plant ought to have from eight to
twelve large succulent leaves. Cultivators commonly diminish th^
number of leaves by ' ' topping " or breaking off the top, under the
idea that the remaining ones will aftbrd the strongest tobaccoi
Suckers or shoots near the root are carefully reniovfd, and every-
thing'_is done to concentrate the strength of the plant in the leaves.^
Every leaf injured by insects is removed, aud the crop is watched
until the leaves have a yellowish tint aud begin to droop, wheni
they are fit to be gathered. This is usually iu September, so that
the plants, from the time of their insertion on the n:ouuds, have'
occupied the ground four months, during which time they have'
been subject to many vicissitudes, — from the attacks of insects,'
from a disease called "firing," caused by the long continuance oi
Very wet or very dry weather, and from the occurrence of autunm
frosts while the crop is yet in the field.'
In the harvesting of the tobacco crop several distinct methodi
are followed. In ordinary European cultivation the ripe leave*
are separated from the standing stalks in the field, ike three!
lower root-leaves are first stripped off and laid, face downwardj
around the root to wilt, after which they arc bundled and carried
to the barn. Afterwards toJie remainder of the leaves are separated,^
working from the top downwards, and, similarly, Uhey are spread
ou the ground till by wilting they lose their lyittleness. They are
then buudk'd and packed, tops upward, closely on the floor of the
barn for some time to sweat, by which the uniform ripening and,
subsequent favourable drying are promoted. The bundles are
carefully watched to prevent overheating, which would blacken
and injure the leaves. In the tubacco-gi-owing districts of thei
United States the entire i)lant is cut down in the field close to thej
ground, then the stalks arc spitted on long rods or laths, care
being taken to keep the leaves from touching each other, and oc!
these rods they, are carried aud hung in the barn or curing-hous^
for drying.' _ _ ^ — —. .
Tiie curing -^fLheleaves which follows" ha.': for~its objects the JCiUing
drying and preservation of the tobacco, and, by a process of slow,
fermentation, the modification of certain of the leal constituents,!
and the development of the charactcristv? a.ioma of the substance.j
Subject to various minor modifications, the process of curing i3
carried out either slowly by the air-cure process or rapidly by fire*,
curing. The European cultivators, who generally cute by the
slow process, either spit the leaves through the middle on a long
rod or string them on a cord, taking care to keep each leaf from
touching its neighbour. These rods or cords of leaves are suspended
in a barn or curing-shed in a way which allows the free circulation
of the air, and at the same time brings the whole contents of the
shed equally under the drying influence of the air currents. AVhen
the weather is clear and dry, free circulation of the air is in every
way promoted, but on humid days the moist air is excluded and
sometimes artificial heat is required to prevent mildew and rotting
of the leaves. Under favourable circumstances the tobacco will be
dry and i^eady for further treatment in from six to eight weeks, and
the leaves should then have a fine bright warm brownj colour.
In the United States the quick-drying process by artificial heat
is employed principally for the preparation of export tobacco,'
Formerly the neat was obUiined by mpans of an open charcoal fire
within the curing-barn, but now the structure is heated by a
system of flues which permits of the burning of any kind of fueL]
For dark shipping tobacco^ the entire plants, cut down close to the
ground, are immediately housed, and at once dried off. Red
shipping qualities are prepared by leaving the -cut stems either in
the field or hung on scaffolds in the barns for a few days to wilt
and wither in the air, after which they are dried by artificial heatj
In the treatment of both dark and red kinds the temperature
within the barn is gradually raised till it reaches 170° -F., and the'
drying is complete in from four to five dayii.
By whichever way treated, the tobacco-leaf at this stage is
brittle, and cannot be handled without cmrabling to powder. The'
contents of the barn are therefore left till moist weather occure,
and then by the admission of atmospheric^ir the leaf blades absorbj
moisture and become soft aud pliant. In this condition the leavca
are stripped from the stems, sorted into qualities, such as *' lug8,'1
or lower leaves, JI„hrsts,|^andJj seconds.? These are made up intg
TOBACCO
4251
•* hands," or small bundles of from six to twelve leaves. Each
bundle 13 tied round with a separate leaf, and in this condition
the tobacco is ready for bulking for fermentation
For fermentation the tobacco, whether in bundles, hands, or
separate leares, is piled up or bulked on the floor in a bard into a
solid stack to the height'of 5 or 6 feet Wuhm this stack a
processor fermentation is quickly set up, and the temperature of
,the mass rises steadily nil it reaches about 130^ F. Great care is
now taken to prevent overheating, and to secure the uniform
fermentation of all the tobacco. The pile is from time to time
taken down and rebuilt, the tobacco from the top going to the
bottom, and that exposed at the edges being turned in to the centre.
In from three to five weeks the fermentation should be sufficiently
carried out, and the leaves then have a nice uniform brown colour.
,The cured stack may in this condition be piled up in store without
'fear of further fermentative activity, till, with increasing summer
heat, it is subject to the May sweat, which renders further watch-
fulness necessary.
Cbemis- The components of tobacco, like those of all vegetable matters,
^try. arrange tht-raselves under the three heads of water, mineral acids
and bases (which pass into the ash on combustion), and organic
substances. According lo an investigation carried out by Beauchcf
in GayLussac's laboratory, the amuuot of ash from lOo parts of
toatter dried at 100' C ia m the roou 6 to 8, in the stems 10 to 13.
and in the ribs and leaves 18 to 22 per cenL The greater |>art of
the ash consists of insoluble salts, principally carbouate of lime
?he soluble part consists largely of potash salts (KCI, K^-COj,
KjSO^), which may amount to from 5 to 35 percciiL, and' it is
A remarkable that tobacco contains no soda. In addition to the
mineral sal t.<t proper, tobacco contains salts of ammonia and nitrates.
In the leaf the proportion of nitrates is greater in the rib than in
the laminx In the former it mav amount to as much as 10 per
jcent. (calculating the nitric acid as K NO^) According to Schloesiug
AAnn. Chim Ph'js . [3], xl. 479). the pruportion of (combined) nitric
Acid in tobacco has nothing to do with its conibustibility, that is,
ithc length of time a ligl:ied cigar will glow spontaneously. This
Quality is a function cliicfly of the potash present in combiDatiou
(with organic acids. An incombustible tobacco, i.e , a tobacco
(which docs not keep a glowing ash, contains its organic acids in the
iforin of lime and magnesia s,ilts. The e.xplanation is that, while
'organic potibh saUs, b<.ing fusible, yield when heated a porous
charcoal which glows readily, the corresponding infusiblt; lime
isalts yield a compact chircoal which is far less combustible. A
Combustible tobacco can be rendered incombustible by the incor-
poration of sulphate or chloride of calcium or magnesium By
•cultivation experiments in a potash-free soil, it has been ascertained
that chloride of potassium used as a manure does not add to the
organic potash salts in the It^ves, bnl the sulphate, carbonate, and
Initrate do give up their potash for t'u^; formation of organic salts.
Subjoined is an enumi.-ralion of the proximate organic com-
tponents of tobacco leaves, and their relative proportions in 100
parts, according to the numerous analyses made in the laboratories
isf the French state tobacco factories : —
Nicotine, Cij^H^Nj, a liquid volatile alkaloid, from 1 5 to 9 per
cent
Essential oil, — according to Schloesing, an important element
in the flavour of tot-icco, although its proportion is exceed-
ingly small.
Nicotianine, a solid camphor-like body to which, according to
other authorities, the odour of tobacco is principally due.
Malic and citric acids, together 10-14 per cent., calculated as
anhydrides.
Acetic acid, very little in fresh leaves, but increasing in their
fermentation. In snuff it may rise to 3 per cent
Oxalic acid, 1 to 2 per cent.
Pectic acid, about 5 per cent.
Resins, fats, and other bodies, ex tractable by other, 4 to 6 per
cent
Sugar, little in the leaves, more in the steins ; in the fer-
mentation it disappears.
•Cellulose, 7 to 8 per cent.
Albuminoids, calculatrd from the nitrogen not present as
nicotine, nitrates, or ammonia, about 25 percent.
Excepting the nicotine, the several organic compooenis of the
leaves develop, roughly speaking, pan passu until fructification,
when certain componcnta are attracted to the fruit, suffenng
chemical changes while so moving. The nicotine determines the
strength of a tobacco, but not its flavour or aroma. The manure
supplied to a tobacco field does not increase the proportion of
nicotine, but affects only the woight of the crop. The percentage
of nicotine in the leaves may to some extent be modified lu cultiva-
tion,— plants wide af»art developing few leaves, but these thick,
fleshy, and rich in nicotine, while closely packed plants throw out
numerous but thin and membranous leaves having little nicotine.
(The proportion of nicotine present increases with the age of the
t)lant Schloesing found in leaves at various stages of growth the
following percentage of nicotine; — May 25 (very young leaves).
0 79. July 18. 1-21 Aug. 6, 1?3, Aug 27, 2 27; Sept. 8. ? 36.)
Sept. 25, 4-32.
Regarding the changes which take pJaco in the manufacluredj
leaf, we take the case of snuff, because with it the chemical changes!
arc carried farthest, and yet, qualitatively speaking, they ere of the]
same nature as those which smoking tobacco undergoes. In ths,
fermentation begun in curing and continued in the sauced leaf. ti^O/
malic and citric acids and the nicotine undergo partial o.\idation.|
The oxalate of lime and the pectates icniain almost unchanged,^
and there are formed, of intermediate (not fully oxidized) bodies,,
ammonia, acetic acid, and blatk liumic acid, the last giving tn*
snuff its dark colour. A little methyl alcohol is aUo at the sam^
time formed At this stage the tobacco leaf is a».id in reaction ij
but after it is iK>wdercd, and again subnnited for a prolongea
period to a slow fermentation lu air tight boxes, it become*
decidedly alkaline by the ammonia, because, while aceti>. acid{
contioLes to be formed and the ammonia and ni«.oline remair wha*!
they are, the malic and citric acids are progressively destroyed.!
Unless snuff contains free ammonia it is "flat," and deslitcie o^
pungency.
As to the composition of tobacco smoke, numerous investiji»tion(«
have been made. Kissling {Ding Potyt. Jour., ccliv. 234 «:46),j
experimenting on cigars, found ih;^t a large proportion f-i th-^
nicotine passes unaltered into the smoke. Deahng with a t- oaccoi
containing 3 75 per cent of nicotine, he recovered from the smok^
52 02 |>er cent, of the t'^tal nicotino consumed, while in tlic uncon*
suiiied remains of th* tobacco the proportion of nicotine wafi
increased to 5 03 per cent With a second sample of tobacco,''
having likewise 3 75 ptr cent of uicotine, iho smoke yielded only
27 83 per cent, of the total nicotine consunied, and the pcrcentag**'
in the unconsumed remains was raised to 4 51. From a tobaccOf
containing only 0 30 of nicotine he recovered 84 "23 of nicotine ioj
the smoke The composition of tobacco smoke is highly complex,,
but beyond nicotine the only substances found in appieciable quan-
tities are the lower members of the picolme series.
The commercial varieties and the sources of supply of leaf- Commsff^
tobacco are exceedingly numerous. Special qualities ot tobacco, as cial vsrl^f
of wines, &c , belong to particular localities, outside of which tbcy tios..
cannot be cultivated. These tobaccos are therefore natural mono- "
iH^lies. Moreover, as is also the case wjth wines, the crops vary
in richness and delicacy of flavour with the seasons of their gro .'h,
so that in ceitain years thu produce is of much greater value tl.ba,
in others. Further, the properties of certain classes of tobacco
render them specially suitable for cigar making Others are best
litted for smoking in pipes; and there are numerousqualities whii,h
are valuable for snuffmaking National tastes and habits again
frequently determine the destination of tobacco. Thus heavy^
strong, and full flavoured cigars and tobaccos are in favour in the
United Kingdom, while on the Continent lighter and more brisk*
binning qualities are sought after, and the materials consumed in
the kalians of Persia and the Fast are nut suitable for use in ths
short pipes of the Western nationa
Of cigar tobaccos the most valuable qualities in the world are
cultivated in the north west portions of the island of Cuba. Ths
district of Vuelta Abajo is the source of the highest quality, after
which comes the produce of Paitidos and Vuelta Arriba. A largfr
portion of the tobacco is made into cigars in the inland, but con-,
siderablc quantities are also exported to Europe and the United
States for mixing with commonerqualilies to give Havana character
lo the home-made cigars. In recent years a large cxportof tobacco'
from Brazil, especially from the proviuce of Bahia, has sprung up,i
most of which goes to Germany and Austria for cigar making.l
The "seed-leaf" tobacco of Pennsylvania. Connecticut, and Ohio,'
grown from Havana seed, is devoted to cigar making in the United
States. In the East the most important cigar tobacco itgion is
the Philippine Islands, from which come the well-known Manila
cheroots and cigars and a large qunnlity of leaf tobacco of dis-1
tinctive aroma. Immense quantities of cigar tobacco are also ex-,
ported from Java and Sun^alra. most of which passes through the
markets of Amsterdam and Rotterdam. In the Madras [-residency
and in Burmah cigar tobacco is largely cultivated, the strong heavy
qualities of which are well known to the British public in the
Burmese, Lunka. and Dindigul cheroots.
Of ordinary smoking tobacco, among the most esteemed quali-|
ties are Varin^is or kanaster, grown in the districts of Varinas,!
Merida, Margarita, &c., in Venezuela. The name kanaster, which-
covers several varieties of tobacco from South America, is given
on account of the wicker baskets (Spau. kanaslra) in which the
material is packed for export. The tobacco regions of the United
States— Kentucky, Maryland, Virginia, and Ohio— send great -•sup-
plies of smoking leaf of various qualities into the European market,
especially into the United Kingdom, which is almost exclusively '
supplied from these sources. Smoking tobaccos of the highest
quality, rivalling indeed the cigar tobacco of Cuba in flavour and
value, are grown in Turkey, and specially in the province of.
Salonioa. The famous Latakia of the English smokers is pro-
duced in the province of Saida, in the northern part of Syria (se*
426
TOBACCO
Latakia), and thougliout Asiatic Turkey there is an extensive
cultivation and fexport of smoking tobacco.
^aaii- Iq the mauulactuje of tobacco foe smoking, we have to do with
lictuju the numerous forms of tobacco used forsraokingin pipes, embrac-
'ing cut smoking mixtures, cake or plug, and roU or spun tobacco.
Under this lieading come also the cigar and cigarette manufacture.
The raw •material in the warehouses is of various qualities : some
is strong, rough, and harsh, and so is unfit for ordinary smoking ;
other samples are mild and fine, witli aromatic and pleasant
flavour, but devoid of strength. By a proper mixing and blending
the manufactn'ier is enabled to prepare the smoking mixture which
is desirable for his purpose; but certain of the rough, hitter
qualities cannot hv manufactured without a preliminarj- treatment
by which llieir intense disagreeable taste is modified. The storing
of such tobacco for a lengtltened period matures and deprives it of
harsliness. and the same result may be artificially hastened by
macerating the leaves in water acidulated with hydrochloric acid,
and washing them out with pure water. The most efficient means,
however, of improving strong, iU-tasting tobacco is by renewed
fermentation artificially induced by moisture aud heat
Smoking- ^ The manufacturer having prepared his mixture of leaves, proceeds
mixtures, to damp them, pure water alone being used in the United Kingdom,
whereas on the Continent' and in America certain "sauces" are
CTOpIoved, which consist of mixtures ot'aromatic substances, sugar,
liquorice, common salt, and saltpetre, &c., dissolved in water. The
primary object is to render the leaves soft aud pliant ; the use of
the sauces is to improve the flavour and burning qualities of the
leaves used. "When uniformly damped, the leaves arc separately
opened out and smoothed, the midrib, if not a'ready removed, is
torn out, except when "bird's eye" cut is to be made, in which
Jnixture the midrib gives the peculiar "bird's eye" appearance.
The prepareji tobacco, while still moist and pliant, is pressed between
cylinders into "a light cake, and cut into fine uniform shreds by a
machine analogous to the chaff-cutter. The cut tobacco is now
roasted, partly with the view of driving off moisture and bringing
the material into a condition for keeping, but also partly to improve
its smoking quality. The roasting is most simply effected by
.spreading it on heated slabs, on which it is constantly turned ; but
such a method does not yield uniform results, aud it exposes the
workers to a most deleterious atmosphere and noxious fumes. A
.roasting machine is in use, which consists of a revolving drum in
which the tobacco is rotated, gradually passing from one end to
the_ other, and al I the time under the influeLce of a current of heated
air passing through it,
Roll For roll, twist, or pigtail tobacco the raw material is damped or
tobaccot sauced as. in the case of cut tobacco. The interior of the roll
"consists of small and broken leaf of various kinds, called " fillers" ;
and this is enclosed within an external covering of large whole l^af
of bright quality, such loaves being called "covers." The material
is supplied to the twisting machin'-ry by an attendant, and formed
into a cord of uniform iliickness. twisted, and wound on a drum by
mechanism analogous to that used in rope-spinning. From the
drum of the tvvisting machine the spun tobacco is rolled into
cylinders of various sizes. These are enclosed in canvas, and around
the surfice of each stout hempen cord is tightly and closely coiled.
In till'* form a large number, after being cooked or stoved in moist
heat for about twenty-four hours, are piled between plates in an
hydraulic press, and subjected to great pressure for a month or six
Weeks, during which time a slow fermentation takes place, and a
considerable exudation of juice results from the severe pressure.
^Thc juice is coIlT'cted for use .is a sheep-dip.
Cake Cake or plug tobacco is mado by enveloping the desired amount
Vjbacco.i of filbrs within covering leavps of a fine bright colour. A large
number of such p.ackage3 arc placed in moulds, aud submitted to
powerful pressure in an hydraulic press, by which they are moulded
into solid cakes. Both cake and roll tobacco are e-qually used for
smoking and chewing ; for the latter purpose the cake is frequently
eweeteiied with liquorice, and sold as honey-dew or sweet cavendish.
Clears. For cigar-making the finest and most delicately flavoured qualities
of loboL'CO are generally selected. A cigar consists of a core or
central mass of fillers enveloped in an inner and an outer cover or
robe The fillers or inner contents of the cigar must be of uniform
quality, anrl so packed and distributed in a longitudinal direction
that the tobacco may burn uniformly and the smoke can be freely
dmwn from end to end. For the inner cover whole leaf of the
same quality as the fillers is used, but for the outer cover only
aelected loaves of tho finest quality and colour, free from all injury,
3re employed. The covers are carefully cut to the proper size and
shap'-- with a sharp knife, and, being damped, a pile of them
smoothed out arc placed together. In making cigars by the hand,
thit ofH'ratur rolls together a sufficient quantity of material to form
thH filling of one cigar, and experience enables him or her to select
Tery uniform quantities. This quantity is wrapped in the inner
cover, an oblong piece of leaf the length of the cigar to be mado,
and of width suihcient to enclose the whole materiol. The cigar
is then rolled in the hand to consolidate the tobacco and bring it
into proper shape, after which it im wrapped in the outer covefi a
shaped piece made to enclose the whole in a spiral manner, begin-'
ning at the thick end of the cigar and working down to the pointed
end, where it is dexterously hnished by twisting to a fine point
between the fingers. The finished cigars are either spread oat in
the sunlight to be dried, or, where that is impracticable, they are
exposed to a gentle heat They are then sorted into qualitie9
according to their colour, packed and pressed in boxes, in which
thi-y are ttored for sale. Machinery is now employed for forming
and moulding the fillings of cigars.
Havana cigars are, as regards form, classification, method of
puttingup.and nomenclature, the models followed Ijymanufacturera
of all classes of the goods. Genuine (*' legitimas") Havana cigars
are such only as are made in the island ; and the cigars made in
Europe and elsewhere from genuine Cuban tobacco are clas-sed a3
"Havanas." Other brande of homo manufacture contain some
proportion of Cuban tobacco ; and very good cigars may be made
in which the name only of that highly-prized leaf is employed.)
When we come to the inferior classes of cigars, it can only be
said that they may be mado from any kind of leaf, the more
ambitious imitations being treated with various sauces designed t»,
give them a Havaua flavour. The highest class of Cuban-made
cigars, called " vegueras," are prepared from the very finest Vuelta
Abajo leaf, rolled when it is just half dry, and consequently never
damped with water at all. Nest come the "regalias," similarly
made of the best Vuelta Abajo tobacco; and it is only the lowef
qualities, "ordinary regalias," which are commonly found in conl^
mcrcc, the finer, along with the "vegueras,'' being exceedingly
high-priced. The cigars, when dry, are carefully sorted according
to strength, which is estimated by their colour, and classed in a
scale of increasing strength as cUiro, Colorado daro, maduro^ and
oscuTO. They are pressed into the cigar boxes for sale, and branded
with the name or trade mark of their makers. Cheroots differ from
ordinary cigars only in shape, being cither in the form of a trun-
cated cone, or of uniform thickness throughout, but always having
both ends open and sharply cut across. Cheroots come princi-
pally from Manila, but there are now large quantities imported
into the United Kingdom from the East Indies and Burmah.
Cigarettes consist of small rolls of fine cut tobacco wrapped m a Cigar*
covering of thin tough paper specially made for such use. Origin- ettea.',
ally cigarettes were entirely prejiared by the smoker himself ; but,
now that the consumption of cigarettes has attained gigantic pro-
portions, especially in France, they are very largely made with tho
aid of an elaborate system of automatic machinery. The machines
cut the paper, gum its edge, measure out the proper 'quantity of
tobacco, wTap it up, make the gummed edge adhere, cut tho ends, ^
and pack the cigarettes in boxes.
The manufacture of snuff is the most complex, tedious, and Snuft
diflicult undertaking of the tobacco manufacturer; but it is an art
now of relatively little and of decreasing importance. The tobacco
best suited for snufl'-making is thick fleshy leaf of a dsrk colour,'
the finest qualities of snutf being made with dark Virginia leaf
and the Amersfoort leaf of Holland; but manufacturers work-
up mauy kinds with fragments from tho making of smoking
tobacco, midribs, kc The varieties and qualities of snutf aro
many, the dilfcrences being dependent on the material employed,
the sauces with which it is treated, and the method of manufacture.
The saucesforsnulfconsistof solutions of common salt, with various,
aromatic substances .according to the llavour desired in the finished'
snuff, and with occasional additions of potash, sal ammoniac, and*
other palts. The following is an outline of the method adopted in'
making snu:T on the great soale in the state manufacture of France.
The toh;icco loaves are moistened with about one-fifth of theic
weight of salt and water (sp. gr. 1"089), made up into blocks, and
piled in large rectangular heaps, in quantities of 40 or 50 tons;
The temperature" gradually rises to 140" F., and sometimes reaches
170°; but the heat must be regulated, or parts of the mass would
become blank as if charred. The heaps are made up in spring and
autumn, and the fermentation is continued for five or ai.x. tnontbs,
when the temperature remains stationary or begins to 'decline.
The heap is then opened, and the tobacco is ground, by which means
a pale brown dryish powder {rdp^ sec) is obtained. This is mixed
with about four-tenths of its weight of a solution of common t.alt,
and is passed through a sieve, that the powder may be uniformly
moistencl. It is then packed in large open chests in quantities ol
from 25 to 5^ tons, where it remains for nine or ten months, and
undeigoes another fermentation, the temperature rising in the
centre of the mass to 120' or 130". During this process the snuff
acquires its dark colour and develops its aroma. But it is not
uniform in quality throughout, and is removed to a second chest;
in such a way as thoroughly to mix all the ditferent parts toge'.herJ
and. after the lapse of two months, it is again turned over ; a;id th«
process is sometimes repeated a third time. When the snuff is
ripe, the contents of the various chests are mixed together in al
large room capable of bold'-ag 350 toD« of siiuff, where it is left for
about six weeks, and the whole mass being uniform in quality is
I sifted into barrels for the mark>.t. The process of manufactura
i occupies in aU from eighteen to twenty months. DariBK these
T 0 B — T 0 B
repeated fennentations about two-thirds of the nicotine is destroyed,
the acidity of the snuff disappears, and the mass becomes distinctly
alkaJine, notwithstanding that acetic acid is continuously evolved.
The dnstruction of malic and citric acids continues,, and the bases
thereby set free saturate the acetic acid formed, lea-\in" free
•mmoDia in the snuff The properties of snuff are dependent on
.he presence of free nicotine, tree ammonia, and the peculiar
«romatic principle developed in the fermentation.
The reduction of tobacco-leaf to a snuff powder is a task of con-
eiderable difficuJty, owing to the gmnmy nature of the substance,
which tends to coat and clog grinding surfaces. In early times
the duly sauced and fermented leaves were made up into '' carottes "
—tightly tied op spindle-formed bundles, from the end of which
the suuffer, by means of a "snuff rasp," rasped off his own supply,
and hence the name "rdp^" which Ke have still as " rappee,'' to
indicate a particular class of snuff The practice of tying up the
leaves in the form of carottes is stiU followed by makers of 6ne
snulf as the very slow fermentation which goes on within the
bundles is favourable to the development of a rich aroma. For
pulvenzatioQ, the leaves are first cut to shreds with a revolvin.'
knife, and then powdered either by a kind of mortar and pestle mill!
or by falling stampers suppUed with knife cutting edges, or more
commonly they are treated in a conical mdi, in wt(ich both the re-
volving cone and the sides have sharp cutting edges, so that the
matenal undergoes a cutting rather than a grinding action. The
snuff from the mill is sifted, and that whioh remains on the sieve
IS returned to the miU, the remainder being passed on as rdpe sec
for farther treatment as described above.
riseal In nearly all civUized countries the cultivation of tobacco and
Mstno its manufacture are conducted under eUte supervision, and form an
•wM.; important source of public revenue. In France, Austria.Hungary,
Italy, and Spam the cultivation is a state monopoly, and in other
countries the crop is subject to heavy excise duties. Since the
time of Charles II. the growth of tobacco in England has been
.practically prohibited, the original legislative exactment to that
.effect having been passed with the view of encouraging trade with
,the young colony of Virginia. When that motive ceased to have
force the supposed difficulties of coUecting th« internal taxation
still inBuenced the legislature to continue their prohibition and
consequently a penalty or prohibitive tax equafto sixteen hundred
pounds per acre is exigible on tke cultivation of tobucco in the
United Kingdom. In Ireland the duty on the cultivation of tobacco
was abandoned between 1822 and 1830, and in that interval the
i,I^^°d ^^^ "" ''''°"' * thousaad acres were under the crop.;
In 1886 the Government permitted the experimental cultivation of
tobacco in England, under certain precautions and restrictions for
the security of the revenue. Several proprietors in Kent, Norfolk
^nd other coipties grew experimental patches with such success as
10 warrant the continuance of the experiment and to prove the
entire practicability of cultivating tobacco as an English agricultural
crop. The climate is, however,' so variable that, were all restric-
tions removed, and tobacco groivn subject only to excise supervision
for collecting an equitable tax, it is more than doubtful whether its
. growth would be a safe and profitable undertaking
lori~r -. f 'IjAuence 0' tobacco on health and morals has, ever since
iS^ n '" ™<'"^"°? '"to Europe, been a fruitful subject of controversy,
enecta. On all grounds, except as a medicine, it met the most nncom-
proinisiDg opposition when it first became known ; but it was
precisely the expecUtions entertained regarding its medicinal
virtues which were completely disappointed. Burton in the
Analomy of Melanduyly, gives strong expression to the two views ■
iobacco dmne, rare, superescellent tobacco, which goes far
beyond aU the panaceas, potable gold, and philosopher's stones is
a sovereign remedy in all diseases. A good vomit, I confess, a rir-
tuous herb if it be well qualified, opportnnely taken, and medi-
cinally used ; bi>t, as it is commonly abused by most men which
take It as tinkers do ale, 'tis a plague, a mischief, a violent pur-'e
of goods, lands, health, -hellis£, devilish, and damned tobacco
the rum and overthrow of body and souL" Burton's meanin.'-
that tobacco m moderation is a good thing, while its excessive use
causes many physical and other evils— has many sympathizers ■ bat
the difficulty is to define moderation and excess. Amono' modern
ftuthonties, Dr Jonathan Pereira says, " I am not acquainted with
any we 1-ascerUined ill effects resulting from the habitual practice
of smoking. Similarly Sir Robert Christison conclud(5 '■ In
many individuals who use it habitually, the smoke has an extra-
ordinary power in removing exhaustion, listlessriess, and restless-
ness, especially when brought on by bodily or mental fa'rigue and
this property IS the basis of its general use as an article of luxury "
UT t.. A. Parkes suma up his observations thus : " I confess mvself
quite uncertain. I can find nothing like good evidence in bo^ks •
too olten a foregone conclusion, without any evidence to back it is
given. I think we must decidedly admit injury f-xjm excess ; from
moderato use I can sec no harm, e.vccpt it may be in youth.' On
tte other hand, it is asserted by the opponents of tobacfl«s and by
the anti-tobacco socieUes, that tho habitual use of this narcotic
.iewli, enpeciaUy in the yoang, to d«ciea*9 of bodily aad mentrf
427
Total
Per —
Consumpiion.
Head, '
lb
02.
. is:i
I5.59S.I52
11-71
1S31
19,533.841
12-80
1*41
22,303.360
13-21
18.51
29.062.3T3
IS^if
1S7I
42.775.334"
21-49
ISSl
43,820,403
22-60
vigour, and specially produces s.rmptoras of anamia,' palpitation;
intermittent pulse, and other affections of the heart and circula-
tion It IS an admitted fact that a disease of the vision— tobacco
amblyopia-is contracted by smokers, and is not uncommoa
aniong those using strong heavy preparations, such as black t^vist.
Allowing that such incidental evils may arise from even compara-
tively moderate indulgence in tob.icco, they are after all as nothine
compared to the vast agCTegatc of gentle exhUaration. sootkin.', and
social comfort, extracted from the Virginian weed.
With the almost universal prevalence of the use of tobacco, it Com-
r',h« ll°n r?^ i "" ^?°L'"' "''™"'^J y<^"ly is veiy great, m.reft.
In the United Kingdom, which
is much less a tobacco-consumin"
country than the United States
or many European countries, the
consumption per head has steadily
increased, as is shown in the
accompanying table.
The customs duty derived from
imports of tobacco amounted in
1SS6 to £9,298,990, and there c«r- -,
tainly is a considerable quantity of manufactured tobacco smug.'ledl
into the kingdom which comes into no official lecoi-d. In the United
Sutes the production of tobacco was in 1840 219 163 319 lb in
1850 199,752,655 lb, in 1860 434,209,461 tt>, in 1870262 735 341 lb '
and in 1880 472,661,157 lb. During tho ten years ending 1881
the average annual production was 472,000,000 lb, cultivated on
i'Tr.^^'l;^^'" '2 ^°°'"°'' ^'i'^' ">= "^^"^ of "^« <:fops ranging from
$10,000,000 to $45,000,000. In the same ten years 2,540 SIS 001 lb
of leaf were exported, 1,897,606,249 lb were manufactured for home
consumption, and the quantity conijumed by growers was estimated
to be equal to 280,000,000 lb. "ui^icm
For 'Tobacco Pipe, see Pipe,
n,Z!!f„''i^'^'°";f'J°''"'"','' " "^'^ ""enstve." The Ute Mr William BriMe of
would h^v^,^^'^ '° ^f '"f "° '"""^ '''"'"' ""^'' » ""* o' authorities It
would be >s,n liete to make selections, but mention may be made of Fairbolfj
Mpltal gOM.pmE work. r<.6a«o. „., IliMry m^d A»o,iJcn,. (2d ed 1S«) A,
? JZ'"'" *-''°"" Reports of the United St-iies (1SS3X 'ol HI., theie areaseriS
o^ e^borale paper, on tHe ciUU.alio,., manu/act'ure, ind .utistlc^ 'f Amed^
"""°- (J. PA.-\V. D.)
TOBAGO, the most southerly of the Wintiward group
of British West ludian Islands (11° 9' N. lat 60° I''' WJ
I/,r,™ \ on _;i »-i- .. . f „, '. . T
bug.), 20 miles north-east from Trinidad, is 26 miles id
length and 7i at its greatest breadth, with, an area of 114
square miles (73,313 acres). Its formation is volcanic^'
and the physical aspect irregular and , picturesque, with
conical hills and ridges; the main -jidge is 1800 feet
high and 18 miles long. There are several exceUent har--
hours. The products are sugar, rum, molasses, and fruits'
of various kinds, only the low ground being cultivated-
production is not increasing. In 1885 the revenue wai
£10,826 and the expenditure £12,031, while the imports
were £30,758 and the exports £26,414. The«popula,doa
in 1885 was 19,363 (9368 males and 9995 females), princiJ
pally of African race, the whites being very few. Tobago
has a small legislative council and an administrator under
the Government of the Windward Islands. Its capital
IS Scarborough (1200 inhabitants), on the south-east
coast.
Tobago was discovered by Columbus in 1498, and the British
flag was first planted in 1580, the island being then occupied by
Caribs^ It has subsequently been held by the Dutch and the
irencb, but ultimately was ceded to the British cro»»-n in 1814.
TOBIT, The Book of, one of the Old Testament
apocrypha, relates with many marvellous circumstances'
the virtues, trials, and final deliverance of Tobit, a pious
Israelite who was carried to Nineveh in the captivity of
the ten tribes, and, after rising into favour and wealth asi
a trader at the royal court, was reduced to poverty becausal
he habitually buried those of his nation whom the tyrant
slew and ordered to be cast forth unburied. Besides this
he lost his eyesight through an accident Reduced almout
to despair, like Job, and taunted like Job by his wif^j
("where are thy alms and righteous deeds?"), he yet puts'
his faith in Gnd and prepares to die, but first resolves to
send his son Tobias to RhagK (Rai), in Media, to reclaim,
an old loan. Now his prayers are heard and his rightooosi
428
T O B — T 0 B
oess rewarded, for Raphael, one of the seven angels that
present the prayers of the saints before God, is sent in
human form to conduct Tobias on his journey. Thus
aided, Tobias not only recovers his father's money, but by
killing a fish which attacks him as he washes his feet in
the Tigris, becomes possessed of two invaluable drugs, its
liver with the heart and its galL By fumigation with
the former he drives away tho demon Asmodeus, who had
slain the seven bridegrooms of a virtuous Jewish maiden,
Sara of Ecbatana, his own kinswoman, aud so wins a good
wife, and with the gall ho heals his father's eyes. In spite
of the absurd machinery and other puerilities, the story is
ingenioasly constructed, and the picture of Tobit's piety
is natural and touching, so that the whole is a very good
exhibition of the veaknesa and tho strength of Judaism
as it was among the Israelites of the dispersion.
The date of tha book caniiot be precisely determined.
It was written before the destruction of the temple (xiv.
5), and is cited by early Christian writers. On the other
(hind, it is in the highest degree probable that the Greek
text is original,' in which case the book can hardly be
earlier than the 2d century B.C. A date about the middle
of this century, or a little earlier, at the time of bitter
conflict with the Greeks, seems to accord best with the
tone of the book. The sympathy shown for the victims of
tyranny, to whom burial was denied, acquires fresh mean-
ing when fcompared with such a passage as 2 Mac. v. 10,
and the prominence given to eschatological hopes in the
closing verses fits a time when interest in the prophecies
of Israel's future glory was revived by the struggle for
national independence in Judaia.
That Tobit was written by a Jew of the Eastern dis-
persion (so, eg., Ewald, Gesck., iv. 269) will hardly be
maintained by any one who accepts the Greek text as
original. The book remained almost unknown to the
Syriac church, a fact which tells strongly against the
hypothesis of an Eastern origin ; and at the period to
which the work caa be best referred Egypt is the only
probable place for a Jewish-Greek composition. The
writer knoivs nothing about the geography of the East
beyond a few names which every Jew must have heard, —
tha Tigris, which, by an error common among the Greek.i
but hardly possible to an Oriental Jew, he regards as
flowing between Nineveh and Media ; Rhagse, which was
a royal residence of the Parthians ; the famous city of
Ecbatana; and Elymais (iL 10), which was associated
with the disaster of Antiochus Epiphanes. And in both
forms of the Greek text (vi. 9 in the common text, and
■V. 6 in the longer) Rhagm is falsely represented as quite
near Ecbatana.^ Noldeke surmises, as others havo done
before him, that the " fish " which attacked Tobias was the
Egyptian crocodile, and this conjecture is raised almost to
certainty when we read in Kazwini i. 132 that the smell
of tho smoke of crocodile's Uver cures epilepsy and that its
dung and gall cure leucoma, which was the cause of Tobjt's
blindness.' Thus the cures of Sara and Tobit are natural
(<•/. the longer Greek text, vi. 4 s^.) ; the angel's help is
necessary only to secure the , medicaments and explain
their use. '
But tliough the story may have been written in Egypt
it contains Persian elements. There is no inconsistency in
' See th» arguments of Nblilek«, A/wxJfeJ. BerL Ak., 1879, p. iS sq.
This paper also containi tho best discussioa of tUe relatiOB of tho
various texts of the book.
* Noklekc sliows that tiie same error in a less gross form appeara
in both texts iu chap. ix. The further erroneous Etatemcnt of the
longer text that Kcbatana lies in a plain occurs also in Diod., ii. 13, 6,
In a passage dcpcnJeiit on Ctesias, from whom the addition n^oy have
been taken.
* Very similar statements as to the medic-al virtues of thfl crocodile
(aquatic or terrestcial) occur in Creek and Latin writeix.
this, for the authors of Jewish Haggada generally borrowetf
the themes which they embeUished, and that from very
various quarters. In fact, at the close of our book there
is a brief allusion to another story,* quite unknown to ub,
which the author evidently did not invent. The proof of 4
Persian element in the tale lies, not in the locahties, but ii>
the angelology and demonology Asmodeus is the Iranian
evil spirit Aeshm4 Daeva, and Raphael, as the guardian Of
Tobias, has a strong resemblance to the Iranian Craosha.'
Such precise adaptations of Zoroastrian ideas were hardly'
the common property of Judaism S,t so early a date ; they
lead us to conjecture that the writer borrowed from an
Iranian story.^ And only in this way can we explain the
appearance of the dog who goes out and returns with
Tobias and Raphael. This trait is so inconsistent with
Jewish feelings towards the unclean animal that it ia
omitted in the Hebrew and Chaldee versions. But to the
Iranians the dog was not only a sacred animal, the pro-
tector of herds and homes, but was the companion of the
protecting spirit Craosha (BuTuiahesh, chap, xiz.), to whom
Raphael in our tale corresponds.
The Greek text of Tobit is found in a shorter recension (the
usual text) and in a longer form preserved in the Codex Sinaiticna
(published by F. H. Reusch, 4to, Bonn, 1870). There arc frae-
raents of another form of the longer text iu sever.al cursives. All
tho forms are given in Fritzsche's Libri Apocryplii, Lcipsic, 1871.
The shorter text, in tho judgment of Fritzsche and Noldeke, is tha
earlier. The longer text is also represented by the Latin versions,
tho second part of the rare Syriac version (the first part is from
the hexaplar Greek), and two closely allied Jewish versions, th©
Aramaic (published by Neubaucr, from a unique Midrash iu the
Bodleian, Oxf, 1878) and the Hebrew, first printed in Constantin-
ople (1516), reprinted by Munster in 1542 (whence its common
name Hcbrxus j/it«steri) and included in Neubaucr's edition. The
Aramaic seems to bo a late form of the text known to Jorome,j
and of which he made use for the Vulgate Latin ; it is certaiul '|
a translation from tho Greek, There are recent commentaries on
Tobit by Fritzscho (Kurzgcf. Bandb. zu den AjMcr., ii., Leipsio,'
1853), Keusch (Freiburg, 1857), Scngclmann (Hamburg, 1857),
and Gutberlet CTheissing, 1877). Noldeke's paper already quoted
is indispensable. For other literature, see Schurer, NTlichd Ziit'
SfMcA., u. 609. " (W. R.S.)
TOBOLSK, a government of Western Siberia, having
the Arctic Ocean on the N., Archangel, Vologda, Perm,
and Orenburg on the W., Akmolinsk and Semipalatinsk
on the S., and Tomsk and Yeniseisk on the E., is one
of the largest provinces of tho Russian empire, occupy-
ing nearly 7 per cent. (531,980 square miles) of its total
area. It borders on the Arctic Ocean, from the rivtr
Kara to the Bay of the Ohida, the broad peninsula of
Yalmat projecting between the Kara Sea on the west afid
the Bay of the Ob; this last penetrates into the continent
for more than 550 miles, with a width of from 60 to 70
miles, and receives another long and wide outlet — the bfty
of the Taz (Tazovskaya). Another wide bay of the Kara
Sea — tho Baidaratsk, or Kara Bay — runs up into the
Yatmat peninsula from tho northwest. The islands be-
longing to the government are few ; Byeiyi, at the ex-
tremity of Yatmat, and a few small ones along the west
coast of the peninsula, as also in the Obi Bay, are for the
most part ice-bound. This extensive province occupies tho
greater part of the lowlands of northwestern Asia, which
extend eastward from the Urals, and ouly in tho far north
does it include the eastern slopes of these mountains. The
Paiho coast-ridge only touches Tobolsk with its south-!
eastern extremity. The Urals proper, which run south-'
west from the Kara Sea as far as to the Tell-poss group
(5540 feet), and thence take a southerly direction, form
the boundary between Tobolsk and Vologda as far as the
* The story of Nadab and Achlicharus. The names are uncertain,'
and one text substitutes Aman (Hsman) for Nadab. But the allusion
is not to the book of Esther.
• Compare what is eaid under THOUSiND and One Nicnrs (p. 312)
a4 to the probable influence of ao Iranian legend on tha book of £stber. ,
TOBOLSK
429^
•ources of the Petchora (61° 30' N. lat.), but farther
south their eastern slopes are included in the Russian
government of Perm, and only their lowest spurs, 200
miles from the main ridge, belong to Tobolsk. The aver-
age height of the northern Urals is about 3000 feet, and
several of their summits range from 3300 to 4000 and
even 4370 feet (Net-yu, in 68° N. lat.). The remainder
of the government is of lowland character, hardly at any
point rising above the sea by more than a few hundred
feet, but these lowlands vary greatly in their different
parts. They assume the character of grassy steppes or
prairies in the south, of immense marshes sparsely covered
with forest in the north, and of treeless tundras as the
shores of the Arctic Ocean are approached. The southern
steppes, in their turn, may be subdivided into two distinct
portions, — the Tobot and Ishim steppe in the west, and
the Baraba in the east. The former, nearly 43,000 square
miles in area, is one of the most fertile parts of the empire.
One-third is under forest, and the remainder has a soil
of very fertile black earth, which has the further advant-
age of being sufficiently watered. The climate, indeed,
is very severe, the mean annual temperature (30° to 34°
F.) being such as is found only in the north of Sweden
and in Archangel; but the warm sutiimer (65° to 68° in
July) and the amount of light received from a bright sky
combine to make vegetation develop with a rapidity quite
unknown to western Europe. This region now has a
population of more than 800,000, almost all Russians
(only 14,000 aborigines), so that it may be said to be
more thoroughly Russian than the Volga provinces. The
area under crops every year is 3i million acres, and the
region promises to become a regular granary for Siberia and
northeastern Russia. The second portion of the southern
olains, which might be called the Baraba region, being
mistly occupied by the Baraba steppe, covers about 55,000
8qui\re miles. Only its western borders belong to Tobolsk.
It also is perfectly flat, and covered with recent deposits ;
but, as there is no definite slope, the surface waters move
slowly, and accumulate into a very large number of lakes
and marshes. The climate is moister and the summer
still shorter and less hot than in the preceding region.
Forests, consisting chiefly of birch, are spread in clusters
over its surface. The soil of this region also is very pro-
ductive, but the fertile patches are separated by marshy
grounds, and the dense clouds of mosquitoes which float
over it in summer are a positive plague to both man and
beast. The population numbers only 250,000, also almost
all Russians (only 4000 aborigines), and the area annually
under crops is about 1,350,000 acres. To the north of the
regions just specified is that occupied by the administra-
tive districts of Tora, Tobolsk, and Tara, with an area of
about 11 0,000 square miles ; this may be described as the
taiga region. It is covered throughout with impenetrable
forests and quivering marshes — the dreadful urmans, which
are penetrated by man only for some 20 to 50 miles
around the widely separated settlements. Immense cedar-
trees, larches, firs, pines, birches, and maples grow very
densely, and the underwood is so thick that a passage can
bv forced only with the aid of the hatchet, the difficulties
being further increased by the layers of decayed wood and
by the marshes. To cross these, which are treacherously
concealed under a swaying layer of grassy vegetation, a
kind of snow-shoe must be used even in the summer, and
many can be crossed only in winter. Immense areas of
the urmaru, especially on the Vasyugan, have never been
visited by man ; but still, from time to time a Russian
settlement arises in the forests, mostly founded by Non-
conformists in hiding, who freely receive all sorts of
fugitives. The south-western parts of this region are
crossed by the Siberian highway, and to this circumstance
alone is it indebted for its population of nearly 450,000
(32,000 aborigines). Only 2 per cent, of this area is under
culture. Farther north extend the tundras, where the aver-
age temperature rapidly decreases from the 25° F. found
in the preceding region to 15°, 10°, and 7°. The frozea
soil during the hottest part of the summer thaws only for
a few inches beneath the surface. The frost sets in early,
and a thick envelope of snow lowers the spring tempera-
ture. Forests cover the southern parts, but the trees
become poorer, shorter, and thinner, and huddle into im-
penetrable thickets ; while, farther north, only the creep-
ing variety of birch and the dwarf varieties of willow hold
their ground. Within the Arctic Circle the last traces of
arboreal vegetation disappear, their northern limit being
pushed south by the double bay of the Ob and the Taz,
and by the proximity of the Kara Sea.
Apart from the Urals, there are no traces of hard rock anywhere
in Tobolsk. Down to its southern borders it is covered with
Post-Pliocene deposits, which are met with as far as the water-
parting between tne Irtish and the Aral-Caspian depression. This
range of flat hills rises a few hundred feet above the sea-Ievel, and
it seems to mark the limit of extension of the Pcst-Glacial gulf
of the Arctic Ocean which covered western Tobolsk during tho
Glacial period. Contrary to Humboldt's hypothesis, it remains,
however, doubtful whether it was connected in Post-Glacial times
with the Aral-Caspian Sea otherwise than by means of narrow
straits, which disappeared at any rate at an early stage in that
geological period.
The climate of Tobolsk is one of great extremes, the differences
between the averages for the hottest and coldest months reaching
as much as 70° F. Tho average temperatures at Bcrezoff, Narym,
Tobolsk, and Ishim respectively are 24°, 28°, 31°-8, and 32°
(January, - 8°-3, - 8°, - 2°, and - 4° ; July from 62° to 67"). Only
194 days at Ishim and 153 at Berezoff have a temperature above
32°; and the Ob at Obdorsk continues ice-bound for 219 days (the
Irtish 176 days at Tobolsk).
The government is watered by the Ob, which traverses it for more
than 1300 miles, and is navigabU throughout. It receives many
tributaries, some of which are 200 to 350 miles long, but flow
through quite uninhabited regions. The Irtish, a left-hand tribu-
tary of the Ob, covers all the southern part of Tobolsk with its
numerous tributaries. It waters Tobolslc for 760 miles, and is
navigable for the whole of its length ; it receives the great Tobot,
about 420 miles long, also navigable, the Ishim, and a number of
less important streams ; while the Tura, a tributary of the Tobot, is
also a channel for navigation. The navigation lasts for nearly six
months in tho south. The first steamer on the Ob system was
launched in 1845 and the second in 1860; since the latter date
steam navigation has steadily developed.
Lakes, some of them salt, occur in great numbers on the water-
parting between the Irtish and the^ral-Caspian, and everywhere
in South Tobolsk. Lake Tchany, the largest, covers 1265 square
miles. All are being rapidly-iiried up, and even within the last
hundred years they have undergone great changes. Thus, in th3
group of lakes of Tchany, in the Baraba steppe, whole villages have
arisen on ground that was under water in the earlier years of this
century.' Immense marshes cover Tolwlsk beyond 57°N. lat., — the.
Vasyugan marshes in the east,the Kondinsk and Berezovsk marshes
in the west, both joining farther north the tundras of the Arctic
shores.
The population reached 1,283,000 in 1882. Although recent
immigrants, the Russians already constitute 94 per cent, of the
aggregate population, and their numbers are steadily incrc.ising by
immigration, and partly also by the arrival of exiles. No fewer
than 43,750 immigrants from Russia settled at Tobolsk between
1846 and 1878, but of late this figure has greatly increased. In
1879 as many as 69,134 exiles were ui the registers, but of these
more than 20,000 had left their abodes and disappeared. As a rule
the exiles belong to the poorest class of population. According
to M. Yadrintseff,* Ihe native population of Tobolsk was repre-
sented in 1879 by 29,150 Tartars and 8730 other Turkish inhabit-
ants, chiefly in the SQUth, 22,350 Ostiaks, chiefly on the Ob. 6920
Samoyedes in the north, and 6100 Voguls in the north-west; the
total amounted to 74,220,— that is, 6'1 per cent of the aggregate
population (1,206,000 in 1879). The Ostiaks (j.t>.) are in a very
miserable condition, having come under heavy obligations to the
Russian merchantM, and being compelled to hand over to them
nearly all the produce of their hunting and fishing. The Tartar
settlements in the south are prosperous, but not in the Tobolsk
district, where their lands have been appropriated for the Russian
' See YadrintseSF in Iirxstia Rutt. Ceogr. Soc., 1886.
' Siberia at a Colony (Russian).
430
T O B — T 0 C
eettlere. Of tho Russians nearly 1)6,000 are Nouconformiats, accord-
iiig to official 6gures, but the number is greatly understated. Many
of the SamoyeJes, Ostiaks, and Voguls arc nominally Christians.
The Russians and the Tartars, who chiefly inhabit South Tobolsk,
mostly live by agriculture. Of the total acea of land regarded as
•uitable for cultivation (28,400,000 acres), 15,600,000 are owned
[by the peasant communities. Summer wheat, rye, oats, barley,
•nd some buckwheat are raised. Flax and hemp and tob-occo aie
cultivated in the south, where cattle-breeding also is extensively
carried on. The ravages of anthrax, however (see MunUAiN, vol.
xvii. p. 58), are very severe, especially in the marshy iiarta of the
province. Tho indigenous inhabitants of the north nad, in the
same year, more than 100,000 reindeer. Dogs are used in sledges
in the far north. In the forest region the chief means of existence
are found in the forests. The nursuit of bears, wolves, fo.xes,
squirrids, ermines, stagN, elks, as also of sables and beavers (rapidly
disappearing), is a regular occupation with tho Russian peas.Tnts
as well as with the indigenous inhabitants ; sledges and cars,
mats, bicves. wooden vessels, and pitch and tar are also manu-
factured to a considerable extent in the villages (valued at about
£150,000). Cedar-nuts (from 5000 to 8000 cwts. every year) are
gatheredi, partly for the sake of their oil. The fisheries of the Ob
and the southern lakes are important; no fewer than 1700 Ostiaks
are engaged in them on the Ob. No less than 200,000 cwts. of fish
are annually caught in the district of Tara alone, and Surgut
exports it to the value of £10,000, while in the' Narym region
10,000 cwis. of salt are used for preserving the fish.
The industries are iusignificant (chiefly tanning, distilling, and
tallow-melting); iron-works and woollen-cloth mills are still in
their infancy. The export of cattle, hides, tallow, com, flour, fish,
and fure to Russia, both from Tobolsk and from the Kirghiz steppe,
is of some importance. Spirits are sent farther east, to Tomsk;
while all kinds of manufactured wares are imported from Russia.
The fairs of Irbit and Ishim are the chief centres for trade.
The educational institutions are few. It is worthy of remark
that of "secondary schools" (gymnasia and pro-gymnasia) there
were in 1883 eight for girls, with 1065 scholars, and only four
for boys, with 711 scholars; of primary schools there were 250,
with 5844 boys and 1403 girls.
Tobolsk is divided into ten districts (ohrugs), tho chief towns
(with populations in 1883) being Tobolsk (20,130), Berezoff (1990),
Ishim (7100), Kurgan (8570), Sijrgut (1460), Tara (8640), Turinsk
(4650), Tyukatmsk (3900), Tyuroefl (14,300), and Yalutorovsk
(4500). Ofthe.se towns, only Tobolsk andTyfMES {g.v.)3Te really
entitled to the designation, the others bcin,<< mere villages, of less
importance than many others on the great Siberian highway which
crosses the government from Tyumen to Tomsk. (P. A. K.)
TOBOLSK, capital of the above government, is situated
on the right bank of the Irtish, near its junction with the
Tobot. It is 1535 miles from Moscow, and since the
alteration of the course of the great Siberian highroad
from Tyumeii to Tomsli it has become an out-of-the-way
place, and is no longer either capital of Western Siberia
or even an administrative centre for exiles, as it was for-
merly. Viewed from the Irtish, the town has a picturesque
aspect, with its kreml, or stone walls, built on a crag "200
feet high, its twenty-one churches, and several elegant
buildings. The kreml, built under Peter I. by Swedish
prisoners, in imitation of the kreml of Moscow, is 430 yards
long by 200 yards in breadth, and contains two cathedrals
erected towards the end of the 17th century. The bell
of Uglitch, which rang the alarm when tho czarevitch
Dmitri was assassinated by order of Boris Godunoff, and
therefore had its " ear torn away," and was exiled to
Siberia, stands close by. The palace of the governor, the
idministrative offices, the seminary where the historian of
liberia, Slovtsoff, received his education, the gymnasium
where MendeleeS the chemist was trained, and the Marie
ichool for girls, which now supplies Siberia with so many
teachers, are in the upper part of the town, where broad
grassy spaces separate the wide streets paved with thick
planks. A monument to Yermak, the rebel Cossack who
conquered Siberia, stands in a prominent place; and one
of the sides of the large square on the crag is occupied by
the immense prison, where more than 2000 exiles are
gathered during the period of navigation. The lower part
of the town stands on a sandy beach of the Irtish, and
often suffers from floods. Its sanitary condition is very
bed. The merchants of Tobolsk carry ou a fairly brisk
trade in com from the south, ealt from Kemipalatinsk,
timber and fish from the lower Ob. The population is
almost stationary (20,130 in 1883, as against 15,500 in
1839 and 15,200 in 1772). Some 12 miles to the south-
east are the ruins of the '' fort of Kutchum,'.' — the seat of
the capital of Siberia, Isker, before the Russian conquest
Tobolsk was founded in 1587 by 500 Cossacks who left Tyumeft
under Tchulkoff, and built a wooden fort at the mouth of the Old
Tobot. During the next ftficea years several other forts were
erected ou the territory now occupied by Tobolsk. The O.stiaks
and Sanioyedes soon submitted to Russian rule, but the Tartars
and Bashkirs made frequent raids, so that a Ifne of forts had to b«
built in the 17th century from Orenburg to Ishim. In 1752 a new
line of forts was erected some 150 miles farther south, and sinca
that time Russian settlers have been able quietly to colonize tho
most fertile parts to the soutn of Tobolsk.
TOCQUEVILLE, Alexis HEirei Cbarles Ch6kei^
CoMTE DE (1805-1859), was born at Verneuil on July
29, 1805. His family on the father's side were of good
descent, and distinguished both in the law and in arms,
while his mother was the granddaughter of Malesherbes.
Alexis de TocqueviLle was brought up for the bar, or, rather,
according to the division of that profession in France, for
the bench, and became an assistant magistrate in 1830.
A year later he obtained from the Government of July a
mission to examine prisons and penitentiaries in America,
and proceeded thither with his lifelong friend Gustave da
Beaumont. Hereturued in somewhat less than two years,
and published a re|iort on the subject of his mi.=;sion, but
the real result of his tour was the famous De la Democralie
en, Amerique, which appeared in 1S35, and very soon made
his reputation. It was at once caught up by infiuential
members of the Liberal party iu England, which country
Tocqueville soon after visited, and where he married
an Englishwoman. Returning to France, and beginning
life as a country gentleman at Tocqueville, he thought to
carry out the English ideal completely by standing for
the chamber of deputies. But. with a scruple which illus-
trated his character, he refused Government nomination
from MoW, and was defeated. Later he was successful,
and sat for several years both before and after the revolu-
tion of February, becoming in 1849 vice-president of the
assembly, and for a few months minister of foreign affairs.
He was a warm supporter of the Roman expedition, but
an equally warm opponent of Louis Xapoleon, and after
being one of the deputies who were arrested at the coup
d'etat he retired from public life. Twenty years after
his first, ho produced another book, De I'Ancien liegime,
which almost, if not quite, equalled its success. His
health was never very strong, and in 1858 he broke a
blood-vessel. He was ordered to the south, and, taking
up his residence at Cannes, died there on the 16th of
April 1859. He had published some minor pieces during
his lifetime, and his complete works, including mucli un-
published correspondence, were produced after his death
in uniform shape by De Beaumont.
During the last twenty years of his life, and for perhaps half
that time after his death, Tocqueville had an increasing European
fame, which for the last ten or fifteen years has been stationary if
not diininisliing. Both phenomena are susceptible of explanation.
Although he has been accused by some of his own countrymen
of having "le style triste," his manner, which is partly imitated
from Montesquieu, has consideitible charm; and he was the first
and has remained the chief writer to put the orthodox liberal
ideas which governed European politics during the first half or two-
thirds of the 19th century into an orderly aud attractive shape.
He was, moreover, as has been said, much taken up by influen-
tial persons in England, — Senior, John Stuart Mill, and others,—
and he had the great advantage of writing absolutely the first
book of reasoned politics on the ("acts of democratic government as
observed In America. Besides all this he was, if not an entirely
impnrti.ll writer, neither n f.-iuatical devotee of democracy nor a
fanatical op|>oncnt of it. All this gave him a very great advanta^
which he has not yet wholly lost. At the same time he had defects
which were certain to make themselves fell as time went oo, evea)
T 0 D — T 0 D
431
without the alteration of the centre of liberal opinion which has
taken place of' late yean<. The chief of these was a certain weakness
which can hardly be described in English by any word more dig-
oLGed than the familiar term " priggishness. ' His correspondence
with Mole abora alluded to is an instance of this, and it was also
reticctedon in various epigrams by countryraeo and contemporaries;
one of these accuses him of having nolucloly " begun to think before
be had begun to learn," while another, with more real than apparent
inconsistency, declares that he " avait I'air de i:.^•oir de toute
^temite ce qu'il venait d'apprtndre." His book on America, though
undoubtedly a very remarkable piece of political deduction, has the
drawback of proceeding on very insuthcieLt premisses and of trying
to be too systematic His book on the Aruruni lUgnm is also want-
ing in solid information, and commits the great error of assuming
rather than proviu" that the Revolution of 17S9 was a proceed-
ing of unmixed good, which delivered France from a state (not of
onmixed evil, for Tocqueville was too careful a student to imagine
that, but) of evil exclusively caused by the existence of monarchical
and aristocratic institutions. In fact, the fault of both books is
•hat their author is not a practical politician, a fault which is
constantly illustrated and exhibited in his correspondence. He
appears both in reading history and in conducting actual political
business (of which, as has been seen, he had some experience) to
have been constantly surprised and disgusted that men and nations
did not behave as he expected them to behave. This excess of the
deductive spirit explains at once both the merits and the defects of
his two great works, which will probably remain to some extent
poUtical classics, though they are less and less likely to be used as
practical guides.
\TOD^VS. See NfLcmi HillsTvoL xviTp. 509.
, TODLEBEN, or Totleben, Eduahd Ivanovich (1818-
1884), Russian general, was bom at Mittau, in Courland,
on May 20, 1818. His parents, who seem to have been of
German descent, were of the mercantile class, and he him-
self was intended for commerce, but a strong instinct led
him to seek the career of a military engineer. He entered
the school of engineers at St Petersburg in 1835, and passed
from that into the army in 1838. In 1847 and the two
following years he was employed, as captain of engineers, in
the campaigns against Schamyl in the Caucasus, where he
directed the siege operations/against the principal mountain
fortresses. On the outbreak of war between Russia and the
Porte in 1853, he was placed at the head of the staff of
General Schilder-Schuldner, by whom Silistria was besieged.
This general being wounded, Todleben acted in his place
until the siege was raised. He was then transferred to the
Crimea. Sebastopol, while strongly fortified toward the
sea, was almost unprotected on the land side. Todleben,
though still only of colonel's rank, became the animating
genius of the defence. By his adnce the fleet was sunk, in
order to blockade the mouth of the harbour, and the de-
ficiency of fortifications "on the knd side was made good
before the allies could take -advantage of it. The con-
struction of earthworks and redoubts was carried on with
extreme rapidity, and to these, was transferred, in great
part, the artillery that bad belonged to the fleet. In what-
ever direction the besiegers drew their lines, there Todleben
met them with -counterworks, until, with the arrival of
heavy Russian.reinforcements, the besiegers almost became
the besieged. It was in these improvised operations by
means of earthworks that Todleben's peculiar power and
originality showed itself ; he was not a great military
leader in the wider sense, nor was he the creator of a
great permanent system of defence like Vauban. But for
the special problems of Russian warfare, both in 1854
and at a later epoch, be was exactly the man wanted.
Until June 1855 he conducted the operations of defence
at Sebastopol in person ; he was then wounded in the foot,
and at the operations which immediately preceded the fall
of the fortress he was not present. When he recovered
from his wounds he was employed in strengthening the
fortifications at the mouth of the Dnieper, and also those
oi Cronsta<lt. In 1856 he visited England, where his
merits were well understood. In 1860 he was appointed
Assistant to the grand-duke Nicholas, and he . became
subsequently chief of the department of engineers. For
reasons which are not knoNvn he was given no command
when war with Turkey began in 1877. It was not until
the disasters before Plevna had heaped discredit upon the
incompetent leaders of the Russian army that the soldier
of Sebastopol was called to the front, Todleben saw that
Plevna could not be taken by assault, and that it would
bo necessary to reduce it by drawing works round Oaman
Pasha, and cutting him off from communication with the
other Turkish commanders. In duo time Plevna felL
Todleben then undertook the siege of the Bulgarian for-
tresses. After the conclusion of preliminaries of peace, he
was placed in command of the whole Russian army, and
became responsible for the government and administra-
tion of the occupied districts. In the discharge of these
duties be is said to have distinguished himself by his
combined firmness and good temper in dealing both with
Turkish authorities and with the native population. ,He
received the highest military honours and commands when
the war was over, and became governor of Odessa. But
his health was broken ; and after much suffering he died
at a German watering-place in June 1884. He was buried
with great solemnity at SebastopoL . . -
TODMORDEN, a market^town of England, partly la
Lancashire but chiefly in the West Riding of Yorkshire,
stands on the Calder, on the Rochdale Canal, and on the
Lanca.shire and Yorkshire Railway, 13 miles west of Halifax,
9 north of Rochdale, and 207| north-north-west of London.
It lies in three valleys amidst scenery originally romantic,
and still in part retaining that characteristic. The town-
hall (1875) bridges the counties boundary, the Calder,'
enabling the magistrates to exercise jurisdiction in both
counties. Of the other buildings, the Unitarian church,
the market-hall, the free endowed school, and the Unita-,
rian free school may be mentioned. A bronze statue has
been erected to John Fielden, to whoso energy in develop-
ing the cotton manufactiae the town owes much of its
prosperity. The staple industry is the spinning and weav-
itig of cotton, and there are also foundries and machine^
works. The population of the township of Todraordcn
and Walsden (area 7007 acres) in 1871 was 9333, and in
1881 it was 9237. In addition to this (situated wholly
in Yorkshire), the urban sanitary district includes parts
of Langfield and Stansfiald in Yorkshire, and of CliNnger
in Lancashire, the total area being 15,690 acres, with a
population in 1871 of 21,764, and in 1881 of 23,862-. '
As early as the reign of Edward III. Todmorden was in the
possession of the Radcliffes, a branch of the Radclures of RadclifTft
Tower, but it was sold by them about the close of the 17th century.
Todmorden Hall is an interesting old building of various dates.
TODY, Pennant's rendering (Cen. Birds, pp. 15, 61)!
through the French Todier of Brisson (Ornilkohgie, iv.;
p. 528) of the s&mewhat obscure Latin word Todus,^ not,
unhappily applied in 1756 by Patrick Browne (Civ. and
Nat. Hist. Jamaica, p. 476) to a little bird remarkable for
its slender legs and small feet, the " Green Sparrow " or
' In Forcellini's Lexicon (ed. De Vit, 1875) we find "Todus genua
parvissimm avis tibias habens perexiguas." Ducan£;e in his Gtossa>
rium quotes from Festus, an ancient grammari.nn, " Toda est avis qu:e
non habet ossa in tibiis; quare semper est in motu, luide Todius (.iL
TodiDus) dicitur ille qui velociter todet et movetur ad niotium lod.-e,'
et todere, moveri et tremere ad modum todie." The evidence that
such a substantive as Todus or Tixla existed seems to rvst on the
adjectival derivative found In a fragment of a lost play [Sijrus) by
Plautus, cited by this same Festus. It stands "cum extritis \ex[ortis\
talis, cum todillis [todinis] crusculis"; but the passage is lieM by
scholars to be corrupt. Among naturalists Gesner in 1555 gave
currency {Eist. Antmalium, iii. p. 719) to the word as a substantive,
and it is found in Levios's Manipnlus Vocairulorutii of 1570 (ed.
Wheatley, 1867, coL 225) as the equivalent of the Englis'n" Titmouse."
Ducange allows the existence of the adjective todinia. Stephaou?
suggests that todi comes from tut0oi, but bis view is not accepted.
The verb todire may perhaps be EugUshed to " toddle*^ ■" ^' '
432
T O G — T O K
"Green Humming-Bird" of Sloane (Voyage, ii. p. 306).
The name, having been taken up by Brisson {loc. cit.) in
1760, was adopted by Linnaeus, and has since been recog-
nized by ornithologists as that of a valid genus, though
many species have been referred to it which are now
k.iown to have no affinity to the type, the Todiis viridis of
Jan^aica, and accordingly have since been removed from it.
The genus Todiis was at one time placed among the Musci-
tapidx (cf. Flycatcher, vol. is. p. 351); but Dr Murie's
investigations (Proc. Zool. Society, 1872, pp. 664—680, pi.
Iv ) have conclusively proved that it is not Passerine, and
is nearly allied to the Momotidx (cf. Motmot, voL xviL
p 3) and Aicedinidse (cf. Kxngfishek, vol. xiv. p. 81),
tliough it should be regarded as forming a distinct Family
Todidsp, peculiar to the Greater Antilles, each of which
islands has its own species, all of small size, thelargest
not exceeding four inches and a half in length.
Of the species already earned, T. viridis, Mr Gosse (B. Jamaica,
pp. 72-80) gives an interesting account. "Always conspicuons
from its bright grass-green coat and crimson-velvet gorget, it is
Itill a very tame bird; yet this seems ratherthe lameness of
Tody (Todus vindis). (After Gosse.)
indifTerence than of confidence ; it will allow a person to approach
very near, and, if disturbed, alight on another twig a few yards
distant .... commonly it is seen sitting patiently on a twig, with
the head drawn in, the beak pointing upwards, the loose plumage
puffed out, when it appears much larger than it is. It certainly
nas an air of stupidity when thus seen. But this abstraction is
more apparent than real ; if we watch it, we shall see that the odd-
looking grey eyes are glancing hither and thither, and that ever
and anon the bird sallies out npon a short feeble flight, snaps at
something in the air, and returns to his twig to swallow it." Mr
Gosse goes on to describe the engaging habits of one that he for
a short time kept in captmty, which, when turned into a room,
immediately began catching all the insects it could, at the rate of
about one a minute. The birds of this Family also shew their
affinity to the Eiogfishcrs, Motmots, and Bee-eaters by burrowing
holes in the ground' in which to make their nest, and therein
laying eggs with a white translucent shell The seies differ little
in plumage.
All the four species of Todus, as now restricted, present
a general similarity, of appearance, and, it may be pre-
sumed, possess very similar habits. The genus has been
monographed by Mr Sharpe (/Iw, 1874, pp. 344-355);
but b': w.--. unfortun.itely misled by an exceptionally bright-
f * Thi9 habit and their green colour has given them the French name
of Pcrmpitt or Tudier de tent, by which they have been distinguished
from other species wrongly assigned to the genus by some Bystematists ;
kod, if we may believe certain French travellers, they must in former
days have inhabited some of the Lesser Antilles ; but that is hardly
nrobable.
coloured specimen to add a fifth and bad species to thoM
that exist — and even these, by some ornithologists, might
be regarded as geographical races. The Cuban form is
T. multicolor; that of Hispaniola is T. subulatus or domi-
iiicensis; and that of Porto Rico, originally named in error
T. mexicanus, has since been called hypockondriacus. ■ /.part
from their structural peculiarities, one of the chief pointi
of interest attaching to the Todidx is their limitatioii,'
not only to the AntiUean Sub-region, but, as is now,
believed, to its greater islands, (a. n.)
TOGA. See Costdme, vol. vi. p. 456!
TOGO-LAND, one of the portions of the African con-]
tinent under the protection of the German empire. It
forms part of the territory on the west coast formerly dis-
tinguished as the Slave Coast, tiod is_ bounded on the P.. by
Little Popo, on the S.W. by the British Gold Coast Colony,
and on the N.W. by the still independent territory of the
Anlo tribes. The coast-line is only-22 mUes in length,'
and with an area of about 500 square miles Togo-land is
estimated to hr.vo a population of 40,000 souls. The
great physical feature of the country is the Togo, Hakko,
or Avon lagoon, which is cut ofit from the ocean by the
narrow belt of sandy soil on which are situated Bagida,
Porto Seguro, and Bay. The town of Togo lies on the
east side of the Togo lagoon, where it extends eastward
to Little Popo Lake. The lagoon is fed by a stream from
the north, the Haho or Hakko, first discovered by John
Duncan in 1846.
See Hugo Zoller, Togoland; Peiennann'e ifiUheilungen (1886);
and Scott. Oeofr. Mag. (1886), all of which give maps.
TOKAT, a decayed provincial town of Turkey, in the
vilayet of Siv43, and capital of the upper basin of the Iris
(Yeschil Irmak), ia a poorly-built place of about 10,000
inhabitants, in a hot, narrow valley, dominated by the ruins
of a Byzantine castle, and surroanded by gardens watered
by the Iris. It was once an important commercial station,
and has still copper foundries. Six miles up the valley
are the ruins of the Pontic Comana (?.».).
TOKAY, or Tokaj, a small town in the county of
Zempl6n, in the north-east of Hungarj, at the inflnx of
the Bodrog into the Tisza, in 48° T N. lat, 21° 4' E.
long. The slopes of the adjacent mountains of Hegyallya,
which are of volcanic origin, produce excellent wine,
several kinds of which are of perhaps the best, sweetest^
and strongest quality in the world. Of these, -however,
none or hardly any come into the market, the wine usually
sold under the name of Tokay not being a natural wine,
and often not coming from the district at all. Tokay,
along with about twenty-fivo neighbouring villages, pro-
duces annually an average of 2,200,000 gallons. The
vine culture has been greatly improved of late years by a
company in Budapest. The timber trade, fishing, and
export of fruits are also considerable. The -population
was 4479 in 1880.,
TOKIO, formerly called Yedo, the present capital of
the empire of Japan, is situated in 35° 41' N. lat. and
139° 46' E. long., at the head of the bay of the same
name, on the south-east coast of Hondo (mainland), the
largest of the group of Japanese islands. It is connected
with the seaport of Yokohama %y a railway 18 miles in
length. The bay of Tokio is shallow, and therefore not
well suited for the navigation of large vessels. The wide
river Sumida, also called Oka wa (*' great river") near its
mouth, runs through the town. For administrative pur-|
poses "Tokio proper is divided into fifteen ku (districts), of
which thirteen lie to the west and two to the east of the
Suniida. Each ku is presided over by an official appointed
by the Government, called theiu-cAto (chief of the ku), and
an assembly (Ku-Kwai) for, local administrative purposes is
elected every four years by the inhabitants. These ku and
T 0 K I O
433
mx rvn (suburban districts) collectively form the Tokio-Fu,
aud are uliHer the general superintendence of \hefu-chiji
/^vernor). Matters affecting the interests of the whole fu
Ate discussed by an assembly (Fu-Kwai) composed of repre-
sentatives from all the ku and gun. Order is maintained by
a well-organized body of police (3648 men in 1885) under
the command of a keishisokan (chief commissioner), who,
like the fu-chiji, is responsible to the central Government.
Since the establishment of this system crime has very
materially decreased. There is also a fire brigade of 2000
men, which is connected *ith the police system, and
renders effective service in checking the spread of the
fires to which the tovrn is peculiarly liable. Buildings of
brick and stone have lately been erected in many parts of
the town. The fifteen ku which form Tokio proper cover
an area of 4'01 square n, and the sir gun 27-94 square
ri, the .whole fn thus extending ta about 32 square ri
{about l90 square miles). Tns greater part of the town
is flat, particularly near the Sumida, and is intersected by
numerous moats and canals, which, with the bridges cross-
ing them, form a distiBCtive feature. There are hills vary-
ing in height from 60 to 100 feet in the six districts of
£a\iroiis of Tokio.
Hongo, Koishikiwa, Ushigome, Totsuya, Akasaka, A^abn,^
and in part of Shiba. The numerous residences of the old
daimios were the chief characteristics of the town, especi-
ally in the Kojimachi-kn. Many of these have been de-
molished and Gfovemment offices erected on their sites;
some have given place to new streets and houses ; others'
having survived the downfall of the shogunate, still remain
surrounded by large gardens, which are celebrated for their
elaborate rock-work, artificial lakes, and magnificent trees.
Nearly in the centre of the Kojimachi-ku, on an eminence,
surrounded by moats, stood the residence of the shoguns,
which was burnt down in 1872. An imperial palace is
now in course of construction on this site. Outer moats
connected with those already mentioned enclose the whole
KOjimachi-ku and a greater portion of Kahda-ku ; one of
the moats. terminates at the Sumida. The Xihonbashi,
JCiobashi, and Kanda-ku, through which the 0-dori (main
ftreet) passes, are the business quarters of the town. The
Xihonbashi (Bridge of Japan), in the ku of the same name,
olso in the- 0-dori, is fhe-centre from which all distances
are calculated. Nearly all the principal buildings of the
city— such as the Gwaimusho (Foreign Office), the Nai-
mu^hS (HomeOa5ce), the Ok-urasho (iUnistry of Finance),
the Monbosha (Ministry of Education), and other Govern-
ment offices, <ta— are situated in those four ku. Among
the parks, those of Shiba and Uyeno rank first in size and
beauty, the lattejr containing a large sheet of water. In
2*— 1>
1 868, when the imperial,^rmy entered the city, a boei, .
men called the shogitai; loyal to the cause of Tokugawa,
here made a last itand, abdiduring the fighting the mag-
nificent temple of Toyesau, on the hills of Uyeno, was
burnt down. This park, as also" the Mukojima (the em-
bankment of the Sumida), and the Asukayama park, which
is at some distance north-west of Uyeno, are celebrated
for their sakura trees (species of cherry), which, when
in full bloom,- attract crowds of all classes. The famous
temple of Kwannon (goddess of ^ercy) is in the Asakusa
park, in which a continual fair is held, with the usual ac-
companiments of booths, shows, tea-houses, ic. The dis-
tricts of Fukagawa and Honjj li^on the east bank of the
river, and are connected with the rest of the town by five
wooden bridges of considerable length ; they are inter-
sected by numerous canals, and the streets there are regu-
Jarly laid out. The means of communication are imperfect ;
the streets of Tokio are in general irregular, and many are
so narrow that they are unsuitable for carriages. The
jinriiuha^ a kind of chaise drawn by one or in some cases
by two or more men, supplies their place to a great extent.
The introduction^ of tramways in some parts of the town
has had the good effect of diminishing the number of
second-rate carriages drawn by miserable horses. .^
There are no reliable data as to the population of Yedo
during the shogunate (see below). Owing to the influx
caused by the periodical visits of the daimios with their
numerous attendants, it probably exceeded one million
during the" early part of the present century. At the
abolition of the shogunate there was a marked decrease,
but the returns of recent years (1,121,560 in 1881;
1,173,603 in 1883; 1,300,073 in 1885) indicate a rapid
increase. Of the 1,519,781 who constituted the popula.^
tion in 1886, 1,211,357 are to be classed as belonging
to the town proper, and 308,424 to the six suburban
districts. The sanitary condition of the city leaves much.
to be desired, but extensive improvements are now being
carried out. The general health, iowever, is good, and
the enforcement of vaccination has virtually stamped out
the scourge of small-pox. The deaths from cholera are
occasionally very numerous, especially among the lower
classes.
A well-organized system of education exists,~under~the
supervision of the ministry of education. In 1885 there
were in the Tokio-Fu 658 public and private elementary
schools, with 1563 teachers, — the cost of maintaining
public schools being 145,152 yen (Japanese dollars). In
^the same year the boys and girls of school age numbered
172,653, of v^hom 77,001 attended schools recognized by
the Government. Kindergartens on the European system
have been introduced. There are also the ihihahgaklo
(normal schools), the ckugakko (middle schools), and
schools, both Government and private, for special branches.
In the district of Hongo is the imperial university, sub-
divided into the four branches of law, science, medicine,
and literature. Matiy of the students attain a high degree
of proficiency. .
Xo m.eDtion-ia made of Tokio in Japanesehistoiy bc'cre the end
of the 12th centnry.. It appears to have assumed no imnortaaco
till abont 1457, when Ota Dokwau, a general in the service. of
UyesQgi Sadamasa, governor of Kamakura, bnilt a castle there.
About thirty years later the town fell into the hands of H6j6 of
Odawara, and subseqnently, on his overthrow by Hidevoshi and
lyeyasu, the castle was granted to the latter, who was the founder
of the shognn house of Tokngawa. In 1590 lyeyasa made his
formal entr>- into the castle of Vedo, the e.-ttent of which he greatly
enlarged. From this date the real importance of Yedo commenced.
The family of the Tokugawas furnished the shoguas (or tycoons)
of Japan for ne.irly three hundred years, and these resided during
that period at Vedo. Under thtm the town was vastly •extende<i,
land was reclaimed from the Kiy, canals were eonstructed, and a
water supply introduced. The shoguns comptUed the daimios
(feudal Icrtis) to reside at Yedo with their numerous Jrtjnues dur-j
_X.\IIL - 55
434
T O L — T O L
ing a considerable portion of their lives, and thus the prosperity
of the town rapidly increased. At the restoration of the supreme
authority of the emperor in 1S68 the shogunate was abolished, and
the population of Yedo speedily decreased. A fresh vitality was
again lu-.parted by the transfer of the court from Kioto, and the
town then received its present name Tokio (eastern capital). It
has since been the seat of the imperial Government, and may. be
considered the centre of the political, commercial, and literary
activity of Japan. It is the channel through which the stream of
European civilization pours into the country, and all recent pro-
gress has there taken its rise. (K- S. L.)
TOLAND, John (1670-1722), or Janus Junius, as his
sponsors are said to have named him, usually described
as a chief leader of the English deists, was born
November 30, 1670 or 1671, in the north of Ireland,
near Londonderry. He was the son, perhaps illegiti-
mate, of Catholic parents, and was brought up in their
faith. But in his fifteenth year he became a zealous
Protestant, and in 1687 he passed from the school at
Redcastle to Glasgow university, recommended by the
magistrates of Redcastle " for his affection to the Protest-
ant religion." Thus early in life he became " accustomed
to examination and inquiry, and was taught not to cap-
tivate his understanding to any man or society." After
three years at Glasgow he entered the university of Edin-
burgh, taking his M-A. degree there June 30, 1690. He
then spent a short time in some Protestant families in
England, and with their assistance went to Leyden univer-
sity, to qualify him for entering the Dissenting ministry.
He spent about two years in Leyden, studying ecclesi-
astical history' especially under the famous scholar Fred-
erick Spanheim. At the e.'cpiration of that time he took
up his abode, January 7, 1694, at Oxford, having good
introductions to Creech, Mill, and others. Here he made
large use of the Bodleian Library, and soon acquired the
reputation of being " a man of fine parts, of great learn-
ing, and of little religion," though there is no evidence to
show that the last distinction was justly his due. His
letters show that .he then claimed to be a decided
Christian, and that he was too orthodox to be classed with
the Arians or the Socinians. At the same time the
characteristic freedom and originality of his mind were
displayed by his anticipation of subsequent doubts of
the integrity of the book of Job, and the separation of
the historical prologue and the speeches of Elihu from the
original poem. -While at Oxford he commenced the book
which called him into notoriety, and became one of the
standard "deistical writings" — his Ch-istianiiy not Mys-
terioiis} The book gave great offence, and several replies
to it were immediately published. The author was pro-
secuted by the grand jury of Middlesex the year of its
publication ; and, when he attempted to settle in Dublin
at the beginning of 1697, he was greeted with dangerous
denunciations from the pulpits and elsewhere. He was
soon prosecuted before the court of King's Bench, and on
September 9th his book was condemned by the Irish
parliament to be burned and its author to be arrested.
He escaped the latter part of the sentence by flight to
England. The title and the philosophical principles of
Toland's book were singularly akin to those of Locke's
famotxs work, The Reasonablenfsa of Christianity, pub-
lished the year before ; and Locke's opponents seized the
opportunity of fathering opon the philosopher the doc-
trines of his more heterodox and less guarded disciple.
Thus Toland's work became the occasion of the celebrated
controversy between SlLUingfleet and Locke, in which
Locke takes pains to show the difference between his posi-
tion and Toland's Toland's next work of importance was
* The first edition, Londo,n, 1696, was anonymous ; the second,
published the same year, bore on the title-page his name, and received
a preface and some alight alterations ; and ths third appeared in 1702
wiLh an appended Apology for Mr Toiand,
his Life of Miiton (1G98), in which, in connexion with his
exposure of the fictitious authorship of the Eikon Basilike,
he found occasion to make reflexions on " the numerous
supposititious pieces under the name of Christ and His
apostles and other great persons." This provoked the
charge that he had called in question the genuineness
of the New Testament writings, and he replied in his
Amyntor, or a Defence of Milton's Life (1699), to which he
added a remarkable hst of what are now called apocryphal
New Testament writings. In his remarks he really opened
up the great question of the history of the canon, towards
the examination of which Stephen Nye, Jeremiah Jones,
and Nathanael Lardner made in reply to him the first valu-
able contributions. The next year his Amyntor and Chris-
tianity not Mysterious were under discussion in both Houses
of Convocation, and the Upper House declined to proceed
against the author. In 1701 Toland spent a few weeks
at Hanover as secretary to the embassy of the earl of
Macclesfield, and was received with favour by the electress
Sophia in acknowledgment of his book Anglia Libera, a
defence of the Hanoverian succession. On his return frota
the Continent he published a defence of himself, and of
the bishops for not prosecuting him, Vindicius Liberiia
(1702), and several political pamphlets. The next year
he visited Hanover and Berlin, and was again graciously
received by the electress and her daughter Sophia Char-
lotte, queen of Prussia. On his return to England (1704)
he published Letters to Serena, and afterwards acknowledged
that the queen of Prussia was intended by the pseudonym.
In these letters he anticipated some of the speculations of
modern materialism. The next year appeared his AccouiU
of Prussia and Hanover, of which Carlyle has made use
in his Life of Frederick the Great. From 1707 to 1710
he is again on the Continent, — at Berlin, Hanover, Diissel-
dorf, Vienna, Prague, and The Hague, with very varying
fortunes, but generally of an adverse character. In 1709
he published Adeisidxmon and Origims Judai<?k (The
Hague), in which, amongst other things, he maintained
that the Jews were originally Egyptians, and that the true
Mosaic institutions perished with Moses. This work pro-
voked a number of replies from Continental theologians.
In 1710 he returned to England, living chiefly in London
and latterly at Putney, loving the country and his books,
and subsisting precariously upon the earnings of his pen
and the benevolence of his patrons. His literary projects
were numerous (see the incomplete list in Mosheim);
and the nobler traits of his warm Irish nature appear in
his projected history of the ancient Celtic religion and his
chivalrous advocacy of the naturalization of the Jews. The
last of his theological works were Nazarenns, or Jewish,
Gentile, and Mahometan Christianity (1718), and Tetra-
dymus (1720), a collection of essays on various subjects,
in the first of which, " Hodegus," he set the example
subsequently followed by Keimarus and the rationalistic
school in Germany, of interpreting the Old Testament
miracles by the naturalistic method, maintaining, for in-
stance, that the pillar of cloud and of fire of Exodus waa
a transported signal-fire. His last and most ofifensive
book was his Pantheislicon (Cosmopoli, 1720). He died
May 11, ,1722, as he had lived, in great poverty, in the
midst of his books, with his pen in his hand; and left
behind him a characteristic Latin epitaph, in which he
could justly claim to have been "veritatis propugnator,
libertatis asSertor."
Toland h generally classed with the deists, but at the thne
when he wrote his first book, Christianity not Mysterious, he Was
decidedly opposed to deism, nor docs Leland deal with that work
as an exposition of deistical views. The design of the work was to
show, by an appeal mainly to the tribunal of Scripture, that there
are no facts or doctrines of the "gospel," or "the Scriptures," or
"Christian revelation" which, when revealed, are not perfectly
T 0 L — T 0 L
435
'platn, jntellirible, antl reasonable, being neither contrary to reason
nor inconiprehensible to it. The work undoubtedly aimed a blow
at some of the dogmas of later Christian times, but it claimed to
be "a rindieation of God's revealed will against the most unjust
imnutations"' which occasioned "so many deists and atheists,"
Tciand'e line of argument is to show that the supposition of the
doctrines of the gospel being repugnant to clear and distinct ideas
and common notions leads into absurdities and inevitable scep-
ticism ; that the proof of the Divinity of Scripture is its self-
evidencing power; that, though men are dependent on Divine
levelation for the knowledge of the most imi»ortant truths, the
troths must themselves be plain and intelligible when revealed;
that all the doctrines, precepts, and miracles of the New Testament
»re perfectly intelligible and plain; that, though reason is dis-
orJered in tho case of many men. the disorder is not in the faculty
itself but in the use made of it; that in the New Testament
"mystery" never means anylhitig incoiiccivaMe in itself, but
things naturally intelligible enough, which are either so veiled by
figurativo words or rites, or so lodged in God's sole knowledge and
decree, that they could not b« disiemed without special revela-
tion; that no miracle of the gosjicl is contrary to reason, for they
were all produced according to the laws of nature, though above its
onlinary operations, which were therefore supcriiaturally assisted ;
that mysteries were first iutrotlnced into Christianity by the early
admission into the church of Lcvitical ceremonies and heathen
riles and mysteries, and especially by mixing up heathen philo-
aopby with the simple religion of Christ The work was intended
to be the first of three discourses, in the second of which he was
to attempt a jiarticular and rational explanation of the reputed
mysteries of the gospel, and in the third a demonstration of the
verity of Divine revelation against atheists and all enemies of re-
vealed religion. But, like so many other of his numerous projects,
this faileil of execution. After his Chrisimnity not MysUrious
aod his Amynlcr, Toland's Kazaremis was of chief importance, as
calling attention to the right of the Ebionites to a place in the
early church, though it altogether failed to establish his main
argument or to put the question in the true light. His Panl/ieis-
ticoa, fi« Formuin ceUbrandx Stxialitatis Socratics, of which he
printed a few copies for private circulation only, gave great offence
as a sort of liturgic service made up of passages from heathen
luthors, in imitation of the Chorch of England liturgy*. The title
also was in those days alarming, and still more so the mystery
which the author threw rouud the question how far such societies
of pantheists actually existed. Poor Toland had been outlawed
by the churches of his day, and took a most imprudent delight in
alarming and mystifying his persecutors. This and all his later
works must be read from the point of view first suggested by
Herder; " Whocan refuse to sec in Toland the man of wide readiug
and of clear intellect, and the earnest iiinuirer, although, as em-
bittered by persecutions, with every fresh book he dipped his pen
in a more biting acid?"
See Mo*helTn'« Vtndicim Aniitjvr Christianonm uUftplinx^ 1st ed, 1720, 2d
ed., 17^*2 (the life of Toland prefixed to the 3d edition of tills essay Rtres still the
best itid ir.c«l ipsmeJ account wc liave of his life sn.l writings); " Memoirs of
the Life snd Writlncs of Mr Jfhn Tolanil," by De» Msizcanx, prefixed to The
MiMtfftanrotu Worki of Ur John Toiamd. in 2yii1«.. T.ondon. 1747; Lcland'S Vieir
of Ike Prt-K^pat Dfiitual n'rilert; UCTdvT'i' Adraslra: Lechler's Ceichichte det
engtixiifn Dfiim^t ; Isaac Dlsraeti*8 CafantftVs cf Authors ; Thnlogicat Rerie^,
Noxrailirr l?*4; flunl's article la ConleirtpcrarfTifrifte, toI. Tiii . and his /Jc^i-
fiom noufkt <M Emfftaad\ Leslie Stephens Untorf of English Thovght in Etgh-
ttauh Coifary; Cairns's Caasiv^Aam Lerturft for ISiO. On Tolanifa relation to
the subsr^nent Tubingen tchool, as presented in his Xazarfnui, see Thniogical
Rfrint. Oct.. 1877; aod 00 Ids r^Lalioo to tratefiajism, F. A. Lange's Gesehichle
4a UatotatUmM. (J. F. S.)
TOLEDO, a province of Spain, in New Castile, is
bounded on the N. by Avila and Madrid, on the E. by
Cuenca, on the S. by Ciudad Real, and on the W. by
Ciceres, and has an area of 5G20 square miles. The
surface is throughout lofty, and in a great part of its
extent liiounlainous. Towards the centre, indeed, there
are extensive plains or tablelands, but the whole of the
south and east is occupied by the Monies de Toledo, which
separate the waters of the Tagus on the north from those
of the Guadiana on the south. These mountains are of no
great height ; and they were once densely covered with
forests, which have now been almost entirely cut down,
although there are still woods and groves of considerable
extent on their lower slopes. Branches of this chain
enclose the province on the east and west, and part of
the range that stretches north of the Tagus approaches
its northwestern frontier. Toledo is well watered by the
Tagus and its affluents,— the Tajuna, Jarama, Guadar-
rama, Alberche. and Tietar on the north, and the Algodor,
Torcon, Pusa, Sangrera, and Cedron on the south. The
Guadiana forms for a short distance the south-western
frontier, and its tributary the Gignela waters the eastern
part of the province. The country is rich in minei^ls, aa
yet almost entirely unworked, containing veins of gold,
silver, lead, iron, quicksilver, copper, and tin. 'Coal, alum,
cinnabar, &c., are also found. The soil produces com,
pulse, potatoes, oil, wine, fla-t, oranges, lemons, chestnuts,
and melons in fair abundance, but the trade in agricultural
products is almost confined to the province itself. The
number of sheep and goats is few, of horses and mnles
still less ; while the only oxen are those used in agri»
culture. Bees and silkworms are kept in considerable
number. Manufactures once flourished, but are now in a
very low state, — silk and woollen cloth, earthenware, soap,
oil, chocolates, wine, rough spirit (aguardiaitt), guitar
strings, and arms being almost the only articles made.
The province is traversed by three lines' of railway, —
that of Madrid Seville-Cadiz in the east, Madrid-Toledfv
Ciudad Real through the centre, and Madrid-Ciceres-
Lisbon in the north. There are 12 partidos judiciales
and 206 ayuntamientos ; and tbree senators with eight
deputies are returned to the cortes. The total population
in 1885 was 332,000; the only towns with a population
exceeding 10,000 are Toledo (20,251) and Talavera de la
Reina (11,986). Some of the most brilliant fighting of
the Peninsular War took place in Toledo and the neigh-
bouring province of Oiceres, the battle of Talavera de la
Reina being fought on the 27th and 28th of July 1809.
TOLEDO, the capital of the above province, and once
of the whole of Spain, stands upon a circle of seven hills,
2-iOO feet above the sea, and washed on three sides by the
Tagus. It is 37 miles west south-west of Madrid. The
river is spanned by two fine stone bridges, — the Alcantara,
a Moorish bridge of a single arch, giving entrance to the
city from the east, and the other, that of San Martin, from
the west, while between them the river makes a sweep
southwards. The place is enclosed on the land side by
two walls, still in fairly perfect condition, — the inner one
being built by King Wamba in the 7th century, the outer
by Alfonso VI. in 1109. The gates are numerous and
xvell preserved, the most noteworthy being the famous
Puerta del Sol, the Puerta Yisagra, and the Cambron.
Some Roman remains (a circus, ic.) lie without the walls,
on the plain to the north-west. The appearance of Toledo
from a distance is imposing in the extreme, from its noble
situation and the terraced lines of its buildings ; but upon
a nearer approach it reveals itself as dull and decayed
enough, with little or no traffic in the streets, and a
strange silence brooding over all its ways. The houses
are large, massive, and gloomy, generally Moorish iu style,
of the 12th, 13th, and 14th centuries, with a great central
paiio (courtyard), and yielding abundant traces of Arabic
decoration. The principal public square is the Zocodover.
It forms the favourite promenade, and from it the one fairly
wide street of the city leads to the cathedral The latter
is the glory of Toledo, and one of the finest monuments of
art in Spain. Built upon the site of an ancient mosque,
and commenced in 1227, it was completed in 1492 ; and,
though sacked over and over again, — finally by the French
under La Houssaye in 1808, — it is still, with the excep-
tion, perhaps, of the cathedral of Seville, the richest and
most magnificent foundation in the Peninsula. The ex-
terior is unfortunately bidden to a great extent by mean
surrounding buildings, but the fine western facade, with
its two towers, one rising 325 feet, is effeetive. The
interior is somewhat dwarfed in appearance by the immense
width. It is 404 feet long by 204 feet broad, and is
divided by 84 pillars into five naves, with central lantern
and choir, and a complete series of side chapels. Most
of these latter are late additions, of the 15th and IS'.h.
436
T O L^T O L
centuries, and are very magnificent in detail. The 16tb-
century stained-glass windows, chiefly of Flemish work,
are superb ; and the treasury, reliquaries, and library, not^
withstanding their repeated despoilings, are not unworthy
of the see which styles itself the " first of all the Spains."
lu the Muzarabic chapel the ritual known by that name
is still performed daily Within the precincts of the
cathedral are interred the archbishops and cardinals
Tenorio, Fonseca, Mendoza, Ximenez, the great constable
Alvaro de Luna, and a long array of kings and heroes.
The archbishop is primate of Spain, and has for suffragans
Coria, Cuenca, Siguenza, and Palencia Besides the
cathedral Toledo still possesses a great number of fine
churches and other religious buildings, together with
numerous Moorish and Jewish monuments The most
important church is the 15th-century florid Gothic San
Juan de los Reyes, built by Ferdinand and Isabella.
The best Moorish work is to be found in the old Jewish
synagogues of Santa Maria la Blanca and El Trinsito,
sn the mosques of Cristo de la Luz and Las Tornerias,
in some private houses, and in the later churches of San
Roman, Santo Tom^, Santiago, and Santa Leocadia. The
patio and staircase of the hospital of Santa Cruz pre-
sent some of the finest Renaissance work extant. Seen
from afar, the Alcazar, or royal palace, is one of the most
conspicuous features of the city. It stands upon a com-
manding position overlooking the Tagus, and was origin-
ally built by King Wamba, but has been repeatedly altered
and pulled about. It was almost entirely rebuilt by
Charles V and Philip II., under the architects Covarrubias
and Herrera, and has lately been converted into a huge
military academy. The city is provided with numerous
elementary schools, a public library, museum, town-hall,
and several large hospitals. The well-known manufactory
of swords is about a mile to the north-west, beyond the
Caratron gate. It is in excellent order, and produces
blades as perfect as ever, but is no longer of great im-
portance, emplojing only about 120 hands.
Toledo existed in the time of tlie Ronnns, who conquered it
in 193 B.C. They strengthened the fortifications, and built an
aqueduct to supply the place with water. By the Goths, who
captured tiie city in 467 ad., these works were kept up and
improped; .lud, under the iloorish domination, from 714 to 1085,
Toledo W.13 second only to Cordova in rank and importance, with
a population of 200,000 souls. Alfonso VI. of Castile and Leon
recovered the stronghold in 1085; and under him and his succes-
sors it continued to flourish until the permanent estahlishment of
the court at Madrid gave a deathblow to its prosperity. The
population now is no more than 20,000.
) TOLEDO, a city of the United States, the county seat
«f Lucas county, Ohio, is situated in 41° 40' N. lat. and
J3° 33' \V. long., chiefly upon a peninsula between the
Maumee on the south and the Ottawa upon the north,
ju3t above their points of discharge into Maumee Bay,
and 5 miles from Lake Erie A sn.»ll part of it, for-
merly knov/n as Maungee City, lies south of the Maumee.
Toledo includes an area of 2 15 square miles within its
corporate limits. The bay and river form an excellent
harbour and roadstead. The harbour is easily made and
is well sheltered, and the bottom affords good holding
ground. Besides being open to the navigation of the
Great Lakes, Toledo is the terminus of the Miami and
Erie Canal, connecting it with Cincinnati (184 miles
distant). Seventeen railroad lines enter it, making it one
of the jirlncipal railroad centres of the country The site
of Toledo and the surrounding country are very level, and
only slightly elevated above Lake Erie. The soil is very
productive, and is highly cultivated, being largely devoted
to market gardening. There are three public parks,
having a total area of 41 acres. The city is well sewered.
Water is obtained by pumping. The city, which is
divid'ed into eight wards, had in 1880 a population of
50,137. The number is probably now (1887) not far
from 65,000. In 1840, 1850, 1860, and 1870 respect-
ively the population was returned at 1224, 3829, 13,768,
and 31,584
Besides its large commercial interests, as one of the principal
pores upon the Great Lakes, and its importance as one of the leading
railroad centres of the country, Toledo holds high rank as a manu-
facturing city. The capital invested in this cla.ss of industries in
1880 exceeded $5,500,000, aad the products were valued at double
this sum. They employed nearly 7000 persons, and paid in wages
over two and a quarter millions of dollars. 'These industries are
very varied in character, but consist largely in lumher manufactures^
brewing, and iron and steel manufactures.
The first settlement within what are now the corporate limits of
Toledo was made, shortly after the war of 1812, upon the south
bank of the Maumee North of the river no settlements were
attempted until 1832, when the villages of Port Lawrence and
Vistula were commenced in what is now the heart of the city In
the following year they were united under the present name. The
city was incorporated in 1837. In 1852 it was made the county
seat, and in 1874 its corporate limits were considerably enlarged.
TOLL IS a sum of money paid for the use and enjoy-
ment of a privilege. In England it is now always or
almost always a sum of money; but formerly tolls in kind
were not unknown An instance is afforded by the Act
of 3b Geo IlL c. 85, substituting a money payment for
tolls of corn in kind taken by millers, with an exception
in favour of tolls taken by custom in soke mills. Such
customary tolls, if any such now exist, are apparently the
only examples remaining of tolls in kind. 'The Weights
and Measures Act, 1878, enacts that all tolls are to be
charged and collected according to imperial weights and
measures.
The word toll, in its earliest use, appears to have signified a
franchise enjoyed by lords of manors, and is defined by Glanvill
as the liberty of buying and selling in one's own land ; " tol,
quod nos vocamus theloneum, scilicet libertatem emendi et
vendendi in terra sua." The word then became used to denote
duties payable to the crown, especially on wool, generally with an
inseparable epithet indicative of unpopularity. It thus took the
form of "maletote" or "malum tolnetum,"' against which many
early statutes were directed, from the Magna Carta of John till the
final abandonment of the duty by Kdward 111 In modern English
law toll is either an incident of a Franchise iq.v.), as of a market
or fair, or is independent of franchise. In tho latter case it is
claimed by prescription, as toll traverse or toll thorough, or is
created by Act of Parliament, as in the case of turnpikes, railways,
harbours, navigable rivers, and canals. Toll traverse is paid for
passing over a private way, bridge, oi ferry. No consideration
need be proved. Toll thorough is paid for the use of a highway.
In this case, if charged by a private person, some consideration,
such as repair of the highway, must be shown, as such a toll ia
against common right In one case, that of the Cornish cnstom
of tin-bounding, the right to tin tolls may depend upon custom.
At common law a toll must be reasonable. The same principle
appears in various Acts of Parliament Tlie Statute of Westminster
the First, 3 Edw. I. c. 31, inflicts a penalty for taking excessive
toll. The Railway Clauses Consolidation Act, 1845, and most
special Acts of railway companies provide, by what are known aA
"the Shaftesbury clauses," for the equality of tolls, that is, that
all jtersons and classes of goods shall under like circumstances be
treated alike as to charges. A right of distress is incident to the
right to impose tolls, but the distress cannot be sold unless an Act
of Parliament expressly authorizes the sale. Tolls are rateable for
the relief of the poor where they are a]ipurtenant to land, but not
where they are extrinsic profits not arising from the possession of
land. Exemption froni tolls may be claimed by the prerogative, iy
by grant or prescription, or by Act of Parliament. The king pays
no toll, and may grant to another exeniption from toU. The
exemptions by Act of Parliament mainly affect persons in the
public service, clergy on their parochial duty, and persons going
to or returning from their usual phce of religious worship. Most
of the exceptions from turnpike tolls will be fouud in 3 Geo. IV.
c. 12S. Turnpike tolls, bridge money, and causeway mail were
aboHslied iu Scotland by the Roads and Bridges Act, 1878, as from
the Jst June 1883. In England there has been no such general
abolition, but the abolition of tolls has been facilitated by several
recent Turnpike Acts, and their entire disappearance is only a
question of lime.
In the United States tolls are a subject for State legislation.
' The SBiAe term was kiiowu in mediaval Italy. Dante, lu Inferno,
zi. 36, alludes to "toilette daunose."
T 0 L -T 0 M
437
except in a. few instances in which Acts of Congress Iiave dealt
with tolls in riveis and harbours (see Revised Statutes, tit. IxiiL).
The question .T)f tolls fras at one time an important one in
international law. Tolls were exacted on certain straits and tidal
rivera by virtue of the sovereignty of a particular state. Such
toUa have mostly ceased or been redeemed. Notable instances
wete the Scheldt tolls and the Sound dues levied by Denmark.
See Navigation Laws.
TOLUCA, or ToLOCCA>r, a city of Mexico, the capital of
the state of Mexico, od the Mexican National Railway, 45
miles south-^rest from the federal capital. It lies on the
west side of the Anahuac tableland, at the foot of Mount
San Miguel de Tutucuitlalpillo, at an elevation of 8653
feet above the sea, being the highest town in the republic
next to the mining station of Ameca-meca (which is 8800
feet). Toluca had in 1886 a population of about 12,000,
and is uanally described as a well-built flourishing town,
with fine buildings and clean well-drained streets. But
T. M. Brocklehnrst, who visited it in 1880, gives an un-
favourable impression of the place, which presented nothing
attractive beyond the Portales, a fine arcade running round
a large block of central buildings, with a number of good
shops under the aichesJMexico To-day, p. 222). There
i^ also a good theatre^ and in the Plaza de los Martires
a well-executed white marble monument to the patriot
'Miguel Hidalgo y Costilla. But the Carmen, Vera Cruz,
and one or two other churches are dirty and tawdry, with-
out presenting any striking architectural features. The
city is traversed by a foul stream flowing at the bottom
of a barranca or deep ravine, along whose banks are
herded numerous swine in a half-wild state, which supply
the hams and sausages for which the place is noted.
Here also soap and wax candles are manufactured and
supplied to the- surrounding districts. In the south-west
the Nevado de Toluca, an extinct snow-clad volcano with
a flooded crater, rises to a height of 15,156 feet above
sea-iflvel., -
. Ailhocgh Tolnca appears to have been one of the earliest Toltec
settlamenta in Anahuac, its foundation dating probably from the
6th century, it has preserved no remains of its ancient grandeur,
nor have any monuments been discovered in the district in any
way eomparable to those of Cholula, TuU, Teotihuacan, and other
ancient centres of Toltec culture. ^According to SI. Chamay, Toluca
formed one of the chief starting points of the great migrations
which, after the overthrow of the Toltec empire by the Chichimec
irmption in t^ie 11th century, moved in two parallel streams south-
wards, converging at Copan and spreading their arts and industries
over Chianas, Yucatan, and Guatemala (Ancient Cities of tfie New
Wvrld, 1887, p. 125).
TOMATO. See EoETicxTLTiraE, vol. xii. p. 288.
TGMPA, MihXly ( = Michael) (1817-1868), one of
the best and tenderest Hungarian lyric poets, was born in
1817 at Kima-Szombat, in the county of Gomor, of very
humble parentage, his father being village bootmaker.
He studied law and theology in Saros-Patak, and subse-
quently at Budapest ; but, feeling little inclination for the
first-mentioned career, after many vicissitudes he, at the
age of thirty, accepted the post of Protestant minister in
Beje, a small village in his native county, whence, in two
years, he removed to Kelem^r, and four years later to
Hanva, in the county of Borsod, where he remained till
his death in 1868". •
At the age of four-and-twenty Tompa published his first poems
in the Athenetum, which soon procured for him a high reputation.
His first volume, Nipregtk is Ntpmondak {"Folk-Legends and
Folk-Tales"), in 1846, met with great success, and the same may
be said of the first volume of his " Poems" in 1847. In 1848 he
took part in the war ot independence, acting as field chaplain to
the volunteers of his county and seeing several battles ; but the
unfortunate close of that heroic struggle silenced his poetic vein
for a considerable time, and, when in 1852 and 1853 he gave vent
to his patriotic gi'ief in some masterly allegories on the state of
oppressed Hungary, he was twice arrested by the Austrian authori-
Viea. Afterbeing released he published his VirAgregek (" Legends
of Flowers"), a collection of poems of the highest order, showing
great imagination and love of nature, and displaying the loftiest
humanity and great meditative power. Soon after this he became
oppressed with melancholy and abandoned this branch of poetry.i
Indefcd from this time he produced comparatively little. He put>-
lished three volumes of sermons, ''which," says his biographer,'
Charles Szasz, Protestant bishop of Budapest,- "are among the best
in Hungarian literature, and will favourably compare with those
of Robertson, Monod, or Parker." His collected poetical works,'
in six volumes, were published at Budapest in 1870, and again, i^
four volumes, in 1885.
TOMSK, a government of Western Siberia, extending
from the Chinese frontier to 60° N. lat., is bounded by-
Tobolsk on the N.W., by Yeniseisk on the N.E., by th&
Chinese province of Khobdo on the S.E., and by Semi-
palatinsk on the S.W. Its area, 329,040 square miles, is
fully one and a half times that of France. The surface is
most varied, including in the southeast the high alpine
tracts of the Altai Mountains, with an elevated steppe
which skirts these, and in the north-west and west the
lowlands of the Irtish and the marshy tracts of the Ob.
The Altai Mountains, which cover within the limits of
the Russian empire an area of 53,000 square miles, or
three times that of the whole of Switzerland, although
visited by many geologists, still remain very imperfectly
known, even as regards their orography. The country has
been mapped only along the rivers and the course of a few
footpaths, and great confusion still prevails with reference
to the directions of the different chains of the Altai and their
mutual relations (compare Sibekia). The best descrip-
tions, however (including the most recent by M. Potanin),'
indicate in that part of Asia the very same leading orograph-;'
ical features that are seen in the Tian-Shan Mountains
farther south, and in the West Sayan range farther north.
A plateau with an average altitude of more than 4000
feet, watered by the tributaries of the upper Yenisei, all
flowing in open valleys 3000 to 4000 feet above the sea,'
is known to rise in that part of north-western Mongolia
which is drained by the upper Yenisei and Selenga. The
surface of this plateau is diversified by ridges, and by
depressions like that of the TJbsa-nor — a relic of what was
formerly a much larger lake. A lofty mountain chain;
which has its south-east foot on the plateau and its
north-west foot in the valley of the Us, fringes the
plateau, and has all the characters of a border-ridge.
The present writer has proposed to call this Erghik-shan.'
It juns from north-east to south-west along the Eusso-
Chinese frontier, and is pierced by a deep gorge through
which flows the Yenisei. A belt, some 200 miles io
width, of alpine tracts, made up of three or four chains
parallel to the border ridge, fringes the outer border of the
plateau, and fills up the ilinusinsk region. The structure
of the hniy tracts (watered by the Kemtchik) between the
Yenisei and the Altai remains quite unknown, no sci^-'
tific man or topographer having ever visited it. But the'
very same orographical features as those already described
reappear in the Altai region. There is now no doubt that
the backbone of the Altai is a huge and lofty border-ridge,
the Sailughem, which includes the small alpine plateaus of
Ukek, the upper Tchuya, and Juvlu-kul, and runs from
south-west to north-east, being a continuation of the
border-ridge of the West' Sayan.' . Its flat dome-shaped
summits rise to about 10,OOQ feet, and the small alpine
plateaus just named range from 7800 to 8200 feet in
elevation. .It has a very steep slope towards the north-
west, i.e., towards the broad valleys of the upper Bukh-
tarma and Tchuya, and a very gentle slope towards the
south-east, and its south-eastern hillfoots are on the level
of the plateau of Khobdo (from 4500 to. 5000 feet). A
broad alpine region spreads to the north-west of the border-
ridge, but in the imperfect state of our knowledge it is
* Jivopistiayci Rossiya, vol. xi.; Skelches of X. W. MongoliOt.^Qis.i'
and ill. ; Addenda to Hitter's Asia.
438
TOMSK
difficult to discriininato the real directions of its chains.
Nevertheless, another lofty chain, containing the enow-clad
Alps of the Katun (Katunskiye Byetki) and those of the
Tchuya, and running also from south-west to north-east,
parallel to the Sailughem border-ridge, can be distin-
guished in the labyrinth of confusedly scattered mountains
seen on our present maps. It is one of the most pictur-
esque chains of the region, and contains the Byelukha
peak, estimated at 11,000 feet, and the Alas-tu, of nearly
the same height. It is pierced, however, by so many
rivers, which rise on the north west edge of the plateau,
and find their way to the lowlands by a series of gorges,
that its continuity could be easily overlool-ed. Farther to
the north-east itjiins, in the opinion of the present writer,
the high chain on the left bank of the Kemtchik, which is
continued by the picturesque Alps on the northern bank
of the Us. A third system of mountain chains, also
parallel to the above, can be distinguished in the succes-
sion of the Terektinsk Mountains, those which are pierced
by the Tchulyshman and those which follow the right
bank of the Abakan , while traces of a fourth plication of
the rocks may be discovered in the Tigeritsk Mountains,
those pierced by the Biya below Lake Teletskoye, and the
Kuznetskiy Atatau, on the left bank of the Abakan. A
number of smaller, much lower, and shorter chains faintly
appear as outer walls of this extensive alpine region.
As for the Great Altai, or Altain-Nauru, ouf knowledge of
which has been greatly increased by the recent explora-
tions of M Potanin,' it may be regarded as a south-western
border ridge of the Kbobdo plateau, with its steep slope
facing towards the wide Dzungarian depression, or rather
to the broad trench of the Ulungur. Its direction is
nearly at right angles to the above, running from north-
west to south-east, like the '''-.rbagatai Mountains (see
TuR&ESTAx), and it is continued farther to the south-east
by the Irdyn-ulaand Artsa bogdo Mountains, which separ-
ate the eastern Gobi from the Tarim depression. It is
most probable that upheavals, having the same north-
western direction (which, according to M. Mushketoff, are
in Central Asia more recent than the north-eaGtern ones),
have to a certain extent modified the old north-eastern
chains of the Altai, and complicated the chains of its
alpine region If so, the structure of the Altai would be
very similar to that of the Turkestan mountains. A chain
having a north-western direction — the Salair Mountains —
shoots off from the main ranges of the Altai, between the
Tom and the Tchumysh ; it is about 170 miles in length,
with a width of nearly 60 miles, and contains the best
silver mines of the region, as also several gold-washings,
jits upheaval belongs to a more recent epoch than that of
[the Sailughem ridge, and (like the mountains of Turkestan,
having a north west direction) it is due to dioritic rocks.
In the Kuznetsk depression it is covered with depo.sits of
the Lower and Upper Carboniferous, containing beds of
coal. The Kuznetskiy Afatau, in which Humboldt saw
one of his meridional upheavals, consists of a series of
ridges running south-west to northeast, with further con-
tinuations within South Yeniseisk.'
The alpine region of the Altni is most picturesque ; most of its
chains, rising over 8000 and 9000 feet, are snowclad, and a great
glacier descends from the hollows under the Byelukha |>eak ; several
other less known glaciers occur in the different *' byetkis" (snowclad
rhains). A thick forest vegetation clothes the mountain slopes,
while beautiful valleys, often of great length, such as that of tho
Bukhtarma (180 miles) or that of the Uimon and iCoksu, offer on
thei'r fertile and well-sheltered flnore most favourable conditions for
agriculture. Several lakes are met with, some, like the Juvlukul
and Kendykty-kul on the small alpine plateaus, at heights where
only the dwarf hirch grows and the polar marmot takes up its abode,
^ • Skttcha of K. Vf. Mongolia. St Petersburg. 1883 (Russian).
- • Kropotkine, " Orographical Sketch of the Districts of MiousinKk
mi Krasnoyarsk," in Mem. Rius. Oeogr. Soe., vol. v., 1875.
while two others. Lakes Kotyvanskoye and Teletskoye. respectivclj
1170 and ICOO feet above the sea, from their position amiast steep
and picturesque mountains, recall those of Geneva and Lucerne.
The Altai flora is very rich. Although the European flora (in-
cluding the beech) which clothed the Altai at a recent period has
disappeared, and the Siberian flora invades its hillfoots from the
north-west, while the steppe flora is advancing from the south,
still in a zone ranging from 1000 to 6000 feet above the sea the
botanist has to admire a flora rich in bright flowers, tall grasses,
and shrubs, several of which are now common ornamental plants
in European gardens; and the zoologist discovers in the Altai tho
meeting-place of the northern fauna (including the reindeer) with
that of the high Central-Asian plateau (including the tiger and
the two-bumped camel of bactriana).
A strip of elevated plains or grassy steppes, also about
200 miles in breadth, girdles the alpine region upon the
north west. Its outer border can be roughly indicated by
a line running north-east from Lake Gorkoye to Tomsk.
They have an average altitude of from 700 to 1000
feet above the sea, and are covered with a luxuriant
grass vpgetation ; the conditions for agriculture are excel-
lent, and Russian villages are rapidly springing up. The
south west portion is known as the Kumandinsk steppe.
An innumerable succession of small lakes — rivers in the
process of formation — cover this steppe, where we have a
system of parallel undulations, resulting in tributaries of the
Ob, all flowing north-eastward with remarkable regularity.
Beyond the high plains, that is, all over north-western
Tomsk, are the lowlands, which may be subdivided into
two portions, — the Baraba steppe in the south-west (see
Tobolsk), and the marshy region of the Ob (the Vasyugan
and Narym regions). The latter is one boundless marsh,
a few settlements of native hunters occurring only along
the rivers. The interior is for the most part inaccessible
alike to boats and tcv human feet. Low hills, or rather
swellings, intersect it, but even the highest points, barely
200 or 300 feet above the sea, are covered witl) marshy
forests. The forests themselves grow on marshy ground ;
but where the trees disappear one sees for hundreds of
miles nothing but green flowery carpets, which, when
trodden on, treacherously yield under the unwary traveller.
Similar in character must have been the marshes in which
the Siberian mammoths and rhinoceroses of the Quater-
nary epoch found their graves. Only the light and broad-
hoofed reindeer, but not the elk, can cross them. This
inhospitable region is inhabited only by Ostiaks, who have
been driven into it by stress of circumstances, and support
themselves partly by fishing and partly by hunting.
The Sailughem ridge, and the high Khobdo plateau as well, con-
sist of granites, syenites. pori»hyrics covered only with the oldest
metamorphic slates belonging to the Archiic formation (Huronian
and Laurentian). The structure of the outer chains of the Altai
is more complicated. Their backbone is also composed of granites,
.porphvries. and porphyrites covered with metamorphic slates which
are intersected by layers of crystalline limestones, breccias, and
veins of jade.' Diorites. diabases, augitic porphyries, and hyper-
sthcnites also appear, but they are of a more recent origin. Silurian
clay-slates arc widely spread in the southern Altni, Devonian
slates and limestones are also developed in the southern Altai, and
the metalliferous deposits of Zmeinogorsk, Petrovsk, Riddersk,
ic. , belong to that age. C.irbonifcrous dolomitic limestones and
slates are Widely spread both in the southern and northern AltaL
After the Carboniferous epoch the southern Altai w.is not again sub-
merged, while tho northern Altai was covered by the Jurassic sea,
and has thick Jurassic deposits containing a copious fossil flora and
rich beds of coal. Basaltic eruptions, dating from the Jurassic
period, have been found in the Salair Mountains. Thick diluvial
deposits cover the whole area, and in many valleys are traces of
immense former glaciers ; in fact, the whole of the Sailughem ridge
must at OTIC titne have been clotherl with an ice-cap.*
The .southriii Altai is rich in silver, copper, lead, and line; whila
in the AhLiu are concealed its chief auriferous alluvial (ordilavi.il)
deposits, iron-ores, and coal-scams. The mineral wealth of the Altai
is really immense, hut only a verv few of the mines alreadv known
arc worked. In 18S1 4030 lb of' gold, 14.820 lb of silver, 13.100
, " Prof. Mushketoff in Picturaqut Russia, vol. xi. «
•" • See Potaniu, Sketchts of X. W. Mongolia, vol. iii. pp. S, 9 «g.
-i
T 0 M — T O N
439
cwti of lead, 6720 cwts. of copper, 240,000 cwta. of coal, 330,000
cwts. of salt, and 30,000 cwts. of bitter saH' were obtained. In
the iame year onlv 3000 cwts. of iron were manafactured, and.that
meul is still imported from the Urals. The jade, beautiful
porphyries, and the like of the district, which are cbt into works
of art* at the crown works of Kotyvan, are well known through
the urns and vases shown at th§ St Petersburg Hermitage. The
mineral waters of the Altai are of'Tiigh quality.
Tomsk 13 watered mainly by the Ob and its tributaries, only its
south-east comer draining into the Abakan, a tributary of the
YeniseL The Ob, formed by the union of the Biya and EatuiS,
has within the government a course of more than 800 miles, and is
navigated as far as Barnaut and Biysk its tributaries, the Tom
(450 miles), the Vasyngan (530 miles), the Ket (230 miles), and
the Tym (200 miles), are all navigable. The Tchutyiu and the
Tchumysh are also great rivers. Of tributaries of the Irtish, the
Bukhtanna, the Om, the Uba, and the Tara are worthy of notice.
As many as 1500 lakes have been counted on the maps, but this
number is exceeded by the reality. Some of them are alpine ;
others dot the steppes or the marshy tracts. Lake Tchany, not-
withstanding its rapid desiccation, still covers 1265 square miles.
Many brackish lakes, Kutundinsk, Kutchuk, be, attain a great
size, and some small salt lakes yield about 100,000 cwts. of salL
The climate is very severe, and has, mureover, the dissdvantage
of being very wet in the uorth-west The average yearly tempera-
tores at Tomsk, Kainsk, and Bamant are 30'-2, 31', and 32°7
(January. 4°. -6°-2, and 3°-7; July^ 65°-5, 6S'-5. and 62°:).
The Altai steppes, enjoying a much drier climate than the low-
lands, are covered with a beiutifal vegetation, and in the sheltered
Talleys com is grown to heights of 3400 and 4250 feet.
The population, which is rapidly increasing, in 1882 reached
1,134,750. The Russians are in a large majority, the indigenous
inhabitants numbering in 1879 only 63,600, or 66 per cent, of
the aggregate population. They include 23,600 Altaian Tartars,
5730 Teleutes, 17,020 Mountain Kalmucks (see Tartars), 10,000
Tomsk Tartare, 2920 Samoyedes, and 4210 Ostiaks The prevail-
ing religion is Greek-Orthodox, but there are also some 50,000
Nonconformists, 7320 Catholics, 2600 Jews, 10,700 Mohammedans,
and about 28,000 pagans.
Agriculture is the prevailing occupation. It is most productive
on the elevated plains of Tomsk, Mariinsk, Barnaut, Kuznetsk,
and Biysk. Cattle-breeding is much developed, especially in the
Kutundinsk steppe; and bee-keeping is an important source of
wealth. Fishing and hunting are extensively carried on in the
forest region. Mining occupies several thousands of men in the
Altai. Manufactures are insignificant, the aggregate production
— chiefly from distilleries and tsnueries — hardly amounting to
jC250,000. Trade is actively carried on at Tomsk and Barnaut, which
are two great centres for the expojt and import trade of Siberia with "
Russia. The Biysk merchants carry on exchange trade with ilon-
golia and China. There are eight gymnasia (696 boys and 569
girls in 1883) and 225 primary schools (5680 boys, 1730 girls).
The government is divided into six districts, the chief towns of
which (with populations in 1884) are Tomsk (31,380), Barnaut
(17,180). Biysk (18,960), Kainsk (4050), Kuznetsk (7310), and
Hariinsk (13,090). Narj-m (1600) also has muuiciiial institutions ;
it is the centre for the administration of the wide Narym region.
Of the above towns only Tomsk and Barnaut have the aspect of
European towns. Barnaut, capital of the mining district of the
Altai, which belongs to the " Cibinetof the Emperor," is a wealthy
city, with a mining school and laboratory, a botanic garden, a
museum of mining and natural history, and a meteorological
observatory Kotyvan, with a stone-cuttiog manufactory, has
12,250 inhabitants. Several mining villages are more important
than the district towns: — Zyryanovsk (silver-mine ; 4500 inhabit-
ants), Eidderek, Zmeinogorsk (6160), Suzunsk (5400), and Salairsk
(3500). (P. A. K.)
TOMSK, capital of the above government, is situated
on the Tom at its confluence with the Ushaika, 27 miles
above its junction with the Ob, and 2377 miles from
Moscow It is one of the chief cities of Siberia, second
only to Irkutsk in population and trade importance The
great Siberian highway from Tyumen to Irkutsk passes
through Tomsk, and it is the terminus of the navigation
by steamer from the Urals to Siberia. It has, moreover,
commonication by steamer with Barnaut and Biysk in the
AltaL The position of Tomsk determines its character,
which is not that of an administrative centre, like so
many Russian cities, but that of an entrepot of wares,
with many storehouses and wholesale shops Before 1824
it was a mere village; but after the discovery of gold in
the district it grew rapidly ; and, although -the immense
' Yadr3tsofr*s Siberia
wealth that accumulated tuddenljr in the hands of a few
proprietors of gold diggings was as rapidly squandered,
it continued to maintain its importance, o-ving to the
navigation on the Irtish and the Ob, which meanwhile had
grown up. It is built on two terraces' on the high right
bank of the Tom, and is di»iu-".d into two parts by the
Ushaika. The streets are rather narrow and steep ; many
houses of the richer merchants are of stone, but father
heavy in appearance, and altogether the aspect of the
'Streets is not attractive. The best building is that of the
future university, which is a spacious and elegant struc-
ture, with ample accommodation for library, museums, and
clinical hospitals. The Government has not as yet given
permission to inaugurate the building. A large cathedral,
begun some five-and-twenty years ago by proprietors of
gold diggings, collapsed after considerable progress had
been made. The industries are almost entirely confined
to tatining and the manufacture of carriages. The trade
is of great importance, Tomsk being not only a centre
for traffic in local produce, in which sledges (50,000
every year) and cars are prominent items, but also for
the trade of Siberia with Russia. The population in 1884
was 31,380.
TONGA. See Friendly Islajtds.
TONG-KING, Tcng-Klsg, Tonqdin, or, as it is called See voL
by the Annamese, Dong king, consists of that portion of ^^xi PL
Annam between 18° N. lat. and the frontiers of the
Chinese provinces of Kwang-se and Yun-nan, with an area
of 60,000 square miles. (5n the W. it is bounded by the
Tran-ninh range, which forms the limit of the Lao states,
and on the R by the sea. In shape it resembles, roughlj
speaking, an isosceles triangle, having its apex at its jane-
ture with Annam and its base along the Chinese boundary.
The name Tong-king, " the eastern capital," was originallj
applied to Hanoi, but was eventually adopted as that of the
whole country. It is the same word as Tokio (q.v.).
Geographically Tong-king is divided into three well-
defined areas. First, there is the delta of the Song-koi
(" Red river") and its affluents, which, beginning at Sontay,
widens out into the low lands which constitute the most
fertile district in Tong-king, and within which are situated
the principal cities of the country. Here is grown the rice
which constitutes 39 per cent of the total exports trotD
Tong-king, and which is reckoned in the Eong-Kong
market to be equal in quality to the rice from Siam and
superior to that from Cochin-China. During the rainj
season this part of the country, with the exception of the
embankments, is under water, but notwithstanding this the
climate is fairly healthy, and the prevalence of fever and
dysentery is not so great as might be expected. From the
delta northward and westward rise plateau districts, while
westward of 103° E. long, there stretches a forest region
about which very little is known, but which is said by the
natives to be inhabited only by savages and wild beasts.
Politically the country is divided into sixteen provinces,
of which the following seven are in the delta mentioned :—
Bac-ninh, Sontay, Hanoi, Hai-Dzjong, Hung-yen, Nam-
Dinh, and Ninh-Binh. Five provinces constitute the
upland districts, viz., CaoBanh, Lang son, Thai-Nguyen,
Tuyen-Kwan, and Kwang-yen ; while the forests form the
province of Hung-hoa. The main geographical t&dture in
the country is the Song-koi, which, taking its rise near
Tali Fu, in Yun-nan, enters Tong-king at Lao-kai (" the
Lao boundarv "), and flows thence in a south-easterly
direction to the Gulf of Tong-king. It was this river which
mainly in the first instance attracted the Frencl . Tong-
king, as it was believed by the explorers that, forming the
shortest route by water to the rich province of Yun-nan, it
would prove abo to be the most convenient and expedi-
tious means of transporting the tin, copper, silver, and
440
TON G-K I N G
gold which are known to abound there. This belief has,
however, proved fallacious. The upper course of the
stream is constantly impeded by rapids, the lowest being
about 30 miles above Hung-hoa. Beyond this point navi-
gation i.s impracticable during the dry season, and at all
other times of the year goods have to be there transferred
into flat-bottomed boats built for the' purpose. Within
the limits of Yun-nan the navigation is still more difficult.
Near Sontay the Song-koi receives the waters of the Black
river, the Clear river, and other streams, and from that
.point divides into a network of waterways which empty
themselves by coufitless outlets into the sea.
Hanoi, the capital, is a fine city, and stands on the right
bank of the Song-koi, at a distance of SO miles from the
sea. The commercial town extends along the water face
for a distance of a mile and a half, while behind it stands
the citadel, which encloses within its walls tlie palace, the
treasury, the court of justice, the royal pagoda, the prison,
the barracks, public offices, and official residences. Era-
broidery and mother-of-pearl work are the principal in-
dustries of Hanoi, which never has been and probably never
will be a great commercial centre. But, notwithstanding
this, the population is said formerly to have numbered
150,000, a number .which has of late years probably been
reduced by at least one-third.
Next in importance to Hanoi is Nam-Dinh, on one of
the lower branches of the Song-koi. It is the centre of
an extremely rich silk and rice district, and was before the
war a great resort of Chinese merchants. But the chief
place of trade is Hai-phong, on the Song-tam-bac Canal, 14
miles from the sea. This is the port of Tong-king, and
its trade represents the foreign commerce of the country.
In 1880, the last year of anything like normal trade,
goods were imported to the value of 5,407,315 francs,
and the exports amounted to 7,507,528 francs. Of the
imports 34 per cent, consisted of English cotton goods and
yarn, 21 per cent, of opium, 11 per cent, of Chinese medi-
cines, 9 per cent, of Chinese water-pipe tobacco, 5 per cent.
of tea, and 20 per cent, of miscellaneous goods. From
97 to 98 per cent, of these goods came from Hong-Kong.
Saigon furnished about i per cent., and rather more than
2 per cent, represented the trade from Annam and else-
where. The exports were in the following proportions : —
rice, 39 per cent.; raw silk and eilk piece goods, 21 ; tin,
16; lacquer oil, 6; and^ miscellaneous goods, 18. Of
these 79 per cent, were shipped to Hong-Kong, 16 per
cent, went to Saigon, and the remaining 5 per cent, were
distributed among the coast ports.
The mineral wealth of the country is doubtless con-
siderable, though so little has been done in the direction
of working it that it is impossible to form any idea of its
richness. According to Major-General Mesny, there are
flourishing gold-fields in seventeen districts, while silver
and copper mining occupies a great deal of native and
Chinese labour. Only very small quantities of these min-
erals, however, are produced in evidence.
The population of Tong-king is estimated at about
12,000,000, and consists of Tong-kingese, Chinese, and an
admixture of Lao from beyond the western frontier. The
Tong-kingese belong to the Indo-Chinese stock. They are
taller and a finer people than the Annamese, and they are
more frivolous and excitable than their northern neigh-
bours, the Chinese. Their intelligence is, generally speak-
ing, of a very low order ; they are dirty in their habits ;
and their natural timidity serves to make them deceitfol.
As traders they show little enterprise, and are quite unable
to compete with the Chinese, into whose hands the com-
merce had, before the arrival of the French, entirely fallen.
Their spoken language is allied to the Cambodian, while
Chinese forms the medium of literary communication.
The Chinese records cnrry the history of Tong-king as far bhoir
as the 22d century B.C., but, as the data are neitlier well authenti-
cated nor particularly interesting, we need not dwell upon Ihem.
There is, however, one mention of Tong-king, or Yueb, as it was
then called, in the 12th century B.C., which acquires importance
from the fact that ambassadors from that country are said to have
arrived at the Chinese court, bringing with them "south-pointing
chariots." These are supposed by some to have been mariner's-
corapasses, but it is difficult to pronounce any opinion on a state-
ment so obscure. During the reign of Che Hwang-te (218 B.C.),
the emperor who made himself famous by building the Great Wall
of China and burning the books, a Chinese army invaded Tong-king
and captured the town of Luliang, possibly the modeiii Hanoi,
The occupation, however, was only temporary, and it was not until
the rise to power of the Han dynasty that any serious attempt was
made to subjugate tho country. At that time a Chinese general,
Chaou T'o, who had established a principality consisting of the
two modern provinces of Kwang-tung and Kwang-se, with his
capital at Canton, invaded Tong-king, but was defeated and driven
out of the country by the ruler, An-yang, whose victories were
achieved mainly by the help of a foreign "divine mechanic."
This man, whoever he may have been, seems to have been thrown
aside after serving his immediate purpose ; and, having thus
deprived himself of his xight hand, An-yang fell an easy victim
when attacked by a second army sent by Chaou T'o. On the
subjugation of the empire by the Han sovereign, Chaou T'o's
principality was absorbed with the rest, and in 116 B.C. Tong-king
became a dependency of China.
But this connexion brought no peace to the country, and for
centuries rebellion followed on rebellion. A particular uprising
in the 1st century is noticeable from two sisters, Cheng Tseh ana
Cheng Urh, leading the rebel forces against the Chinese garrisons,
with such success that the celebrated- Ma Yuen had to be sent
against the malcontents. After an arduous campaign Ma dis-
persed the rebels and captured and executed the two sisters, thus
putting an end to the rebellion. The next foiirteen centuries fur-
nish a perpetual record of wars and rumours of wars, the discon-
nected narrr.tive of which is generally uninteresting and sometimes
unintelligible. In 1427 Li Loi acquired the throne, as so many
of his predecessors had done, by violent means, but, unlike them,
he established some degree of peace and order in the land. In
the following century, however, the spirit of revolt broke out, and
one of his successors owed the maintenance of his throne to tho
skill of his general Nguyen Dzo, on whom the title of hereditary
viceroy was consequently conferred. This viceroy gradually assumed
the supreme authority in the district under his control and virtually
separated Tong-king from Annam, holding the first under his own
sway and leaving tho southern portion of the country to the r&i
faineants In this disunited condition the two countries remained
during the 17th century and part of the 18th, till a successor of
Nguyen invaded Annam, captured the imperial city of Hue, and
dethroned the king, Gia Long, who fied to Siani. The Si&mese
sovereign entertained the fugitive with hospitality, but declined to
help him to recover his throne. It happened, however, that st this
time (1787) the Jesuit establishment of Bangkok was presided over
by Bish()p Pigneaux de Eetaine, who thought he saw in the political
condition of Annam a means of establishing the power of France in
the east^n portion of Indo-China. With this object he proposed,
to Gia Long that he should accompany him to Paris to enlist the
aid of Louis XVI. for the recovery of his throne. This the king
declined to do, but as a compromise he sent his eldest son. The
young prince was cordially received by Louis, before whom the bishop
laid the following reasons for the interference of France on behalf
of Gia Long. " The balance of political power in India appears at
the present moment to be largely in favour of the Euglishi and
one may be justified in looking upon it as a matter of no little
difficulty to restore the equilibrium. In nfy opinion the establish-
ment of a French colony in Cochin-China will be the surest and
most efficaciona means to the end. . . . The most certain way of
damaging the English in India is to ruin, or at any rate to weaken,
her commerce in time of peace. Being situated nearer to China,
we should undoubtedly absorb mnch of her trade. . . . In time of
war it would be still more easy to stop all commerce between China
and any hostile nation. . . . From such a coign of vantage it
would be easy to interfere with the designs which the English evi-
dently have of extending their frontier more to the east "
The embassy resulted in a treaty with Gia Long, by which the
French king engaged to restore that monarch to his throne on con-
dition that he accepted the virtual protectorship of France over
Annam. But even before the initial steps towards the (fulfilment
of this contract could be carried out, the political uprising which
finally brought the French king to tho scaffold made all interference
in the East impossible. In these circumstances the bishop deter- '
mined to raise a sufficient force from the French and other adven-
turers who then frequented India and the neighbouring countries,
and, with an army so recruited, he landed in Annam. The Anna-
mese resistance was of the feebleat kind ; the usurper's power w«»
T O N G - K I N G
441
broken -al the first enceisifcr, and Gia Long once again Aseeiulod
liis tU^qoe. As a reward for the services thus rendered to him,
he extendTeda liberal protection to the Roman Catholic missionaries
and their converts, and engaged French otncers to fortify his towns
and to drill his troops. He soon found, hc»\"^er, that his new
allies had more ambitious designs than could be satisfied by doing
him sen-ice. He therefore withdrew hLs countanauce from them,
and emphasized his displeasure by leaving his throne away from his
eldest SOD, who h.ad pleaded his cause in Paris, and by giving it to
hij youngest son. This change of policy told, as was natural, with
greatest force on the missionaries and their converts in the interior
of the country. From 1833 to 1839 eleven missionaries were put
{o death, and thousands, it is said, of the native Christians suffered
• martyrdom. Keitherchangeofsovereign nor varying circumstances
brooght any relief to the persecuted Christians, until in 1859 the
French Government determined to intervene on their behalf. In
that year Admiral Rigault de Cenouilly took Saigon by assault,
and was attempting to open negotiations with the king of Annam,
when the outbreak of the China war compoUed him to satisfy him-
stlf with holding the captured town, bo soon, however, as the
Peking treaty was signed, the French resumed active operations in
the neighbourhood of Saigon and took possession of the provinces
of Mitto and Bienhoa in Cochin-China. These victories led to the
coDclosioa of a treaty with the king, Tu Due, which, however,
did not prevent the French from adding the provinces .of Kinh-
laong, Chandoc, and Ha-tien to their acquired territory.
I Having tlias firmly established themselves in Annam, they began
to turn their attention to Tong-king, attracted by the reported
richness of its mineral wealth. They found a ready pretext for
interfering in its atfairs in the disturbances arising from the in-
vasion of its northern provinces by the disbanded followers of the
Tai-ping rebels. Acting on the protectorship which they professed
to exercise over all the territories of Tu Due, they proposed to
him that a joint expedition composed of French and Annamese
troops should be sent to quell the disturbances. On Tu Due declin-
ing to accede, the French admiral was on the point of starting
" to protect" Tong king, when as before the outbreak of war put
an end to the enterprise. The events of 1870 forbade any advance
in the direction of Tong-king, but the return of peace In Europe
was once more the signal for the renewal of hostilities in the East.
The appearance of Garnier's work on his expedition nJthe Mekong
aroused again an interest in Tong-king, and the reported wealth of
the country added the powerful motive of self-interest to the yearn-
ings of patriotism. Already M. Dnpuis, a trader who in the pursuit
of hiscalliughad penetrated into Yun-nan, and had thus discovered
that the higher waters of the Song-koi were navigable, had visited
Hanoi with a small force of desperadoes, and was aMcmpting to
negotiate for the passage up the river of himself and a cargo of mili-
tary stores for the Chinese authorities ia Yun-nan. Meanwhile
Captain Senez appeared from Saigon, having received instructions
to open the route to French commerce. But to neither the trader
nor the naval officer would the Tong-kingese lend a favourable ear,
and in default of official permission Dupuis determined to force his
way up the river. This he succeeded in doing, but arrived too late,
for he found the rebellion crushed and the stores no longer wanted.
■ On his return to Hanoi, Dupnis found that the opposition of the
aathorities had gathered strength during his absence. His arrival
served to restore the position of the French, and, not wishing to
make an open attack upon them, the Tong-langese general wrote
to the king, begging him to induce the governor of Saigon to
remove the intruder. An order was thereupon issued calling upon
Dnpuis to leave the country- This he declined to do, and, after'
some negotiations, Garmer with a detachment was sent to Hanoi
to do the best ho could in the difficult circumstances. Gamier
threw hiniselX heart and soul into Dopuis's projects, and, when the
ToDg-kiugesu authorities refused to treat with him except on the
subject ol Dupuls's expulsion, hfr attacked the citadel on November
20, 1873, and carried it by assault. Having thus secured his posi-
tion, he sent to Saigon for reinforcements, and meanwhile sent
small detachments against the five other important fortresses in
the delta lUiiug-yen, Phu-ly, Hai Dzuong, Ninh-Binh, and Nara-
Dmh), and captured them all. The Tongkingcse now called in
the help of Liu Vnng-fa, thu leader of the *' I^ck Flags," who
at once marched wnth a large force to the scene of action. Within
a few days ho recaptured several villages near Hanoi, and so
tlireal^euing did his atntude appear that Garnier, who hari hurried
back after capturing Nam-Dinh, made a sortie from the citadel.
The rVi^vemeut pnjvcd a disastrous orje, and resulted in the death
of Cartilw and of lus second in command, Baluy d'Avricpurt.
Meantvhilt; the news of O.irnier's hostilities had alarmed the
governor of Saigon, who, having no desire to be plunged into a
war, scntPliilastre, an inspector of native affairs, to oiTer apologies
tc) the king of Annam. When, however, on arriving in Tong-
king Philastre heard of Garnier's death, he took command of the
French foa-es, and at once ordered the evacuation of Nam-Dinh,
Ninh-Binh, apd Hai-Dzoong, — a measure which, however advan-
tageous it may have been to the French at the moment, was most
disastrous to the natjve Christian population, the withdrawal of
the French txing the signs! for a general massacre of the converts.
In pursuance of the same policy Philastre made a convention with
the authorities (February 6, 1S7J), by which he bound his countrj-.
men to withdraw from the. occupation of the country, retaining
only the right to trade at Hanoi and Hai-phong, and agreed to put
an end to Dupuis's aggressive action. On the 15th of March
a treaty was signed at Saigon.
For a time affairs remained in statu quo, but in 1882 Le Myre
de ViUers, the governor of Saigon, sent Kivi^re with a stnall force
to open up the route to Yun-nan by the Song-koi. With a curious
similarity the events of Garnier's campaign were repeated. Find-
ing the authorities intractable. Riviere stormed and carried the
citadel of Hanoi, and then, with very slight loss, he captured
Nam-Dinh, Hai-Dzuong, and other towns in the delta. And once
again these victories brought Liu Yung-fu and his Black Flags
into the neighbourhood of Hanoi. As Garnier had done, so
Riviere hurried back from Nam-Dinh on news of the threatened
danger. Like Garnier also he headed a sortie against his enemies,
and like Gamier he fell a victim to his own impetuosity.
In the meantime the Annamese court had been seeking to enlist
the help of the Chinese in their contest with the French. The tie
which bound the tributary nation to tho sovereign state had been
for many generations slackened or drawn closer as circumstances
determined, but never had it been entirely dissevered, and from
the Annamese point of view this was one of the occasions when it
was of paramount importance that it should be acknowledged and
acted upon. With much more than usual regularity, therefore, the
king despatched presents and letters to tho court of Peking, and in
1880 he sent a special embassy, loaded with unusually costly offer-
ings, and with a letter in which his position of a tributary was
emphatically asserted. Far from ignoring the responsibility thrust
upon him, the emperor of China ordered the pubUcation of the
letter in the Peking Gazelle. The death of Riviere and the defeat
of his troops had meanwhile placed the French in a position
of extreme difficulty. The outlying garrisons, with the exception
of Nam-Dinh and Hai-phong, were at once withdrawn to Hanoi,'
and that citadel was made as secure as circumstances permitted. |
The Black Flags swarmed round its walls, and tho reinforcements'
brought by Admiral Courbet and General Bouet were insufficient
to do more than keep them at bay. So continued was the pressure
on the garrison that Bouet determined to make an advance upon
Sontay to relieve the blockade. After gaining some triHing suc-
cesses, ho attacked Vong, a fortified village, but he met with such
resistance that, after suffering considerable loss, he was obliged to
retreat to HanoL In the lower delta fortune sided mth the French,
and almost without a casualty Hai-Dzuong and Phu-Binh fell into
their hands. These successes led to an ultimatum being sent to
the king of Aimanl, in which were demanded the fulfilment of the
tre^ity of 1874 and the acceptance of the protectorate ofFranca
over the whole of Annam, including Tong-king. This document '
met with no favourable reception, and, as at this moment a rein-
forcement of 7000 men arrived from France, Courbet, determining
to supei-sede diplomacy by arms, appeared with his fleet before
Hue. He found that, though Tu Duo was dead, his policy of
resistance was maintained, and he therefore stormed tho city.
After a feeble defence it was taken, and the admiral concluded a
treaty with the king (August 25, 1883), in which the French pro-
tectorate was fttlly recognized, the king further binding himself
to recall the Annamese troops serving in Tong-king, and to con-
struct a road from Saigon to Hanoi.
Though this treaty was exacted from the king under pressure,'
the French lost no time in carrying out that part of it which gave
them the authority to protect the country, and on the 1st September
Bouet again advanced in the direction of Sontay. But again the
resistance he met with compelled him to retreat, after capturing
the fortified post of Palan. The serious nature of the opiK>sirion
experienced in these expeditions induced the French commanders
to await reinforcements before again taking the field. Meanwhile,
on the determination to attack Sontay becoming known in Paris,
the Chinese ambassador warned the ministry that, since Chinese
troops foraicd part of the garrison, he should consider it as tanta-
mount to a declaration of war. But his protest met with no con-
sideration. On the arrival of reinforcements an advance was agniu
made; and ou the 16th December, after some dcsper-ate fighting,
Sontay fell.
The immediate object of the French commanders was at this
time to make themselves secure in the delta, and to inflict such
chastisement on tlie Black Flags and their allies as would prevent
their disturbing the peace of the garrisons. This could not be
attained" so long as Bac-Ninh remained in tho hands of the enemy.
Generals Ncgrier, Briere de I'lsle, and Millet accordingly marched
against the town, and began to shell it But it was already
deserted, and Millet entered the gates without striking a blow.
Thus, while one part of the programme was fulfilleil to the letter,
the other part, which was to have sealed the fate of the garrison,
failed conspicuously. In these circumstances it was thought
xxin. — s6 ■
412
T ON—T 0 N
advSable to push on along the great -north-eastern road to China ;
and Negrici- iidvanoed about 30 miles towards Lang-son, captured
a village there, and then returned to Bac-Ninh.
I Meauvrhile Briere 'de I'lslc followed up that portion of the Bac-
ITiuh garrison which had escaped along the northern road in the
directiou of Thai-Nguyeu. He ■ captured the fort of ■ Yen-Te,
ond marched on to Thai-Nguyen, where, as on so many occjisions,
there was a great display of martial ardour so long as the French
were beyond firing distance, but the discharge of a few shells com-
pletely discomfited the defenders, who fled out of the north gate as
the French marched in .at the south. As Britre de I'lsle had posi-
tive orders not to holdihe town, he burnt some of the buildings,
and evacuated it. The Chinese troops- immediately returned, and
again were driven out a month later, only to retiu-n again on the
withdrawal of the French. Once more, however, a column was sent
against the city, which on this occasion was burnt to the ground.
' The whole of the lower delta was thus made secure in the hands
of the French. Hung-Hoa (a town aboiit 15 miles north-east of
Sontay) and Tuyeu-Kwan (a fortified place about 40 miles farther
north) both fell before the invaders, but from both the garrisons
escaped practically miscathed.
In the meantime M. Fournier, the Fren'ch -consul, at Tientsin,
had been negotiating for peace, so far as China was.cpnceraed, with
Li Hung-ohang, and on May 17, 1884, had signed -and sealed a
nemorandum by which the Chinese plenipotentiary agteed that
the Chinese troops should evacuate the nortliern provinces of Tong-
king " imnUdiaUment." This expression was undeniably vague,
jand the French general in Tong-king, impatient of delay, iu June
dispatched Colonel Dugenne at the head of a strong force to occupy
Laug-son. The e.vptdition was badly arrange^ the baggage train
was far too unwieldy ; and the pace at which the mea were made
to march was too quick for that scorcfiing time of the year. They
advanced, however, within 25 miles of Lang-son, when they
suddenly came upon a Chinese camp. An irregular engagement
leommenceJ, and, in the pitched battle which ensued, the Chinese
fbroke the Frsnch lines, and drove them away in headlong flight.
^This brought the military operations for the season to a close.
During the I'rainy season fevers of all kinds became alarmingly
prevalent, and the number of deaths and of men invalided was very
large. In the meantime, however, an expedition, led by Colonel
Donnier, against the Chinese garrison at Chu, about 10 miles south-
east from Lang-kep, was completely successful ; and in a battle
fought near Chu the Chinese were defeated, with a loss of 3000 killed,
the French loss being only '20 killed and 90 wounded. In the
skirmishes which followed the French were generally victorious, but
not to such a degree as to warrant any enlargement of the campaign.
The arrival in January 1885 of 10,000 men having brought up
the force under Briei-e de I'lsle to 40,000, he ordered an advance
towards Laug-son. The difflculties of transport greatly impeded
his movements, still the expedition was successful. On the 6th
February three forts at Dong-Song, with large supplies of stores
and ammuiiition, fell into the hands of the French. Three days'
heavy fighting made them masters of a defile on the -road, and on
the iSth Lang-son was taken, the garrison having evacuated the
town just before the entrance of tlie conquerors. With his usual
energy Nc'grier pressed on in pursuit to Ki-hea, and even captured
the frontier town of Cua-ai.- But Briere de I'lsle had now to
hurry back to the relief of Tiiyen-Kwan, which had been attacked
by a Chinese force, and Negi'ier was left in command at Lang-son.
Tlie withdrawal of Briere de I'Jsle's division gave the Chinese
greater confidence, and, though for a time Negricr was able to
nold his own, on the '2'2d and 'iSd of March he sustained a severe
check between Lang-son and Thatke, which was finally converted
into a complete rout, his troops being obliged to retreat precipi-
tately through Lang-son to Than-moi and Dong-Song. Briere de
I'lslg" reached Tuyen-Kwan on the 3d of March, and found the
Black Flags and Yunnan braves strongly posted on the side of an
almost inaccessible pass. After having su.-^.tained a succession of
attacks for eighteen days, and seven actual assaults, the delight
of the garrison ut seeing Briere de I'Isle's relieving force may be
imagined. It was while matters, were in this position that Sir
Robert Kart succeeded in negotiating -peace beCxveen the two coun-
tries. ■ By the terms agreed on (April 6, 1885), it was stipulated that
France was to take Tong-king under its protection and to evacuate
Formosa. Tho Chinese undertook at the same time to expend
80,000,000 francs on the construction of roads in South China.
The future fortunes of the colony must depend greatly on the
administrative ability of the governors selected to- rule over it.
The death of Paul Bert was in this respect a great loss to Tong-king.
. .See France and Tong-King, by J. Q. Scott,' 1885; TOTllHn, by C. B. Norman,
,*881 ;, Tungkijig, by W. Ik-siiey, 1884. (It. K. D.)
TONGUE. See Anatomy,, voL i. p. 895, and Taste. ''
..TONNAGE, .Register Tonnage,, or International
Keoister Tonnage, is^the unit on,ij^'ljjlcli,-tlie assessment of
duos and charges on shipping is based. The system at pre-
sent in force is known as the Mo'orsom system. • A register
ton is 100 cubic feet of internal -volume. Thus a-vessel of
100,000 cubic feet of internal space within' the points of
measurements prescribed by the law is 1000 tons 'tegister.
Vessels are sometimes bought and sold under this unit.
The tonnage rules, wtich are very full and elaborate,
are contaJined in part ii. of the Merchant Shipping Act,
1854, sections 20 to 29 inclusive, and in section 9 of the
Merchant Shipping Act, 1867, the latter .being a special
section in reference to a deduction from the gross- tonnage
in respect of crew space, which space must be fit for the
proper accommodation of the men who are to occupy it to
entitle to such deduction. .This enactment has led ta
great improvement in seamen's quarters. _ '
Section 60 of the Merchant Shipping Act, 1862, pro-~
vides on the point of international tonnage as follows : — •
" Ships belonging to foreign countries which have adopted
the British System of tonnage need not be remeasured in
this country." The British system has been adopted by
the following countries at the dates named : — United
States, 1865 ; Denmark, 1867 ; Austria-Hungary, 1871 ;
Germany, 1873 ; France, 1873; Italy, 1873 ; Spain, 1874 ;
Sweden, 1875; Netherlands, 1876; Norway, 1876; Greece,
1878; Russia, 1879; Finland, 1877; Hayti, 1882; Belgium,'
1884; Japan,l884. It is also under consideration by China.
There are slight differences in the rules for deduction
for engine room in some of the countries, but owners or
masters of foreign steamships, where this difference exists,'
piay have the engine-rooms remeasured in the Unitsd
Kingdom if they desire; in other words| their net'tonnage
may be reduced to exact English measure.
■ The British system was also mainly adopted by the
International Tonnage Commission assembled at Constan-
tinople in- 1873, the rules of such commission forming
the basis of dues levied on the ships of all countries
passing through the Suez Canal. • A special certificate is
issued in the respective countries for this purpose. ,: The
main point of difference from the British system is with^
respect to the deduction for engine room.
There are throe terms used in respect of the tonnage
of ships, — ^namely, tonnage under decks, gross tonnage,
and register tonnage.
In obtaining the gross measurement the space under
the tonnage deck is first measured — sections 20 and 21
(1), (2), and (3) ; then the space or spaces, if any, between
the tonnage deck (the tonnage deck is the second deck
from below in all ves.?els of more than two decks and the
upper deck in all other vessels) and the upper deck —
section 21 (5) of Act;/and finally the permanent closed-in
spaces above the upper deck available for cargo, stores,
passengers, or crew — section 21 (4) of Act. ^
The allowance for engine room is governed by the'
percentage the net engine room — that is, the space es-^
elusive of the coal bunkers — bears to the gross tonnage,
and varies in paddle- and screw-steamers as laid down Jn
section 23 of the Act.
In obtaining the tonnage under tonnage deck, ships are divided
in respect of their length into five classes as follows; —
■, Class 1. Lengtb CO feet ami under Into 4 equal paTIs.
„ 2. „ 00 „ and nol exceeding 1'20 fc-ct, 6 „
„ 3. „ VO „ ,, ,- 180 „ 8 „.
,, 4. >, ISO „ .. ' ,, S'i5 „ 10 ,:^,
\ „ 5. „ S'25 „ un J upwards. .7. 12 'tt\
\ The following is an epitome of the rule for tonnage under tHe
tonnage deck : —
Length is taken insjdo on tonnage deck, from inside of pianK at
steru to inside of midship stern timber or plank; the length so
taken, allowing for rake of bow and of stern in tho thickness o!
the deck, andjone-third of tlie round of beam, is to bo divided
into the prescribed number of equal parts (which determines the
stations of the are.as), according to tho length of vessel, as above. ,
Area 1 is at the extreme limit of the bow. Area 2 is at tho first
point of division of the length. ; Thu rest are numbered in succes-,
sion, the iaat being atthe extreme limit of tho stern. _,
Depths SIJB taken at eiJch point of division of the K-n.^jlh, or statioi^
T 0 N — T 0 N
443
of r-afh nrca, from the umlcrsiJe of tlic tonna;;c deck to ceiling at
loner edge of tiinhtT strakc, deducting theitfroin onc-tliird of the
round of the bc.un. The dciiths so taken are to be divided into four
c<iual parts, if niid^hip depth should not fxceed 16 feet; otherwise
into six equal parts.
Breadths are taken at each point of division of the depths and
also at the upper and lower points of the depths. The upper
breadth uf each area is to be set down in its respective column iu a
Hnc with No. 1 (left-hand numerals), and the rest in succession.
The number of columns for artas will vary according to the
length, as in the several classes, and will be enual to the number of
ports into which the lengtli is divided plus one.
Tlie space or spaces between decks above the tonnai^c defk ar©
dealt with by a similar formula. A mean horizontal area of th©
space, or each .spaceif more than one, is found and multiplied by
the mean hei^^ht.
The permanent closed-in spaces above the upper deck available
for cargo, stores, passengers, or crew are measured in the same
manner by finding a mean area and multiplying by a mean height.
The measurement of net engine room is governed by the arrange-
ment of the space, ami is measured as a whole or id parts as may
be required by its particular form.
The following is an example under class 2. depth under 16 feet,
of tonnage under tonnat^e deck: —
Length H2-7J Feet -^ 6= IS 791 Feet, the Common lotcrraJ between Areas.
Dcpilis -i- 4. the Miilille Depth beinff less than 16 Feet
Depths
Common )nter-l
val tHftween;
breadths )
No. of
BJths-
1
Muhi.
pliers
1
Aren I. 1 Arcn '.*
Fcer
JcomtEunlnter- 1
val between
breadths J
Being
sharp
at the
stem tio
mcos-
ivred
area.
Feet
Bdths
Pro-
Feet.
ducts.
19-35
19M
1SS3
75-4
16G.S
33 3
1185
4/ 4
I8S
1 85
1TT3
1 05
88«5
17730
Fecr
123.
FfCI
II 83
Bdllis.
Feu- 1.
■:o!
204
20 15
106
30
PlO-
Bdlhs.
Pro-
ducls.
Feet.
ducts.
202
20-4
20 4
81 6
205
82 0
4U.t
30 -25
403
;6-4
I0S5
75 4
3 0
6 35
635
2235
1 M
6T0.-,
-■2350
93
20.5785
205786
Feet
114
Ddihs.
Pro-
Feet.
ducts.
20 2
202
20 35
31-4
200
40 0
17 8
71 2
C35
635
2I9I5.
95
109.575
197235
Feet,
109
Bdtlis.
Feet.
19 1
IS t.)
14 95
8 7.5
10
Pro-
ducts.
191
74 6
23 9
35 0
1 0
I59t>
«1
1590
14364
Beini? '
sliarp
at the
stei-n no
(neas.
lucj
area.
Cubic Content ard negisler
Tonoijgc
Areas
No. ol
.Mnhl.
brcugtil
Areas.
pliers.
np.
Sq. Ft.
0
2
166 17
3
230-21
1
226-30
s
208-19
0
I
146-24
0
Pro-
dDcts.
0
744 68
46012
905-44
416-38
5S0-96
0
3107-68
6-26= J commoQ tnterr&l
between areaa.
I.«n4723
621576
18617-23
19155 32-^100=194-55 under deck.
This formula is also applicable for findiDg displacement tonnage
of ships, that is, the external displacement measured by taking
transverse areas to the height of the load water-line to find tho
cnbic content, which content divided by 35 gives the displacement
m tons weight, the difference between the light and load displace-
ment representing the carrying powers of a vessel in tons.
**The rule," says Sir Moorsom, " is founded on the purest mathe-
matical principles. It was first published in the Phdusophical
Transactions of the Royal Society of 179S by Attwood, in his
"Disquisition on the Stability of Ships,' who there descrilws it
as one of those formulae invented by Sterliog for measuring spaces
bounded by irregular curves, founded on Sir Isaac Newton's dis-
covery of atheorem — a discovery which the immortal authorhimself
considered amongst his happiest inventions — by which the areas of
all curvilinear spaces not geometrically quadrible nor discoverable
by auy known rules of direct investigation are so closely approxi-
mated as to amount to geometrical exactness."
Mr Allan Gilmoiir at the middle of the present century expressed
his opinion, after a careful consideration of the tonnage question,
which wastecciving much attention at that time owing to the law
8 and 9 Vict. cap. ?9, which had been adopted in place of the
old tonnage law 13 Geo. III. cap. 74, not giving satisfaction, (hat
the "system franted by Mr Moorsotn will as it w-ere compel every
ono to build strong, fast-sailing, and good seagoing ships, and
that, in fact, it w-ill stand as long as the world remains." It will
be admitted th.-it great progiess lias been made in every w.-iy in
British shipping of late years, and for this due praise must be
given to the influence of the picsent tonnage laws. (W. M*.)
TONNAGE AND POUNDAGE were customs duties
SDciently imposed upon exports and imports, the former
being a duty upon all wines imported in addition to
prisage and butlerage, the latter a duty imposed ad
val'jifiii at the rate of twelvepence in the pound on all
merchandise imported or exported. The duties were
levied at first by agreement with merchants (poundage
in 1302, tonnage in 1347), then granted by parliament in
1373, at first for a limited period only. They were con-
sidered to be imposed for the de.'ence of the realm. From
the reign of Henry VI. until that of James I. they were
usually granted for life. They were not granted to
Charles I., and in 1628 that king took the unconstitutional
course of levying them on his own authority, a course
denounced a few years later by 16 Car. I. c. 18, when the
Long Parliament granted them for two months. After the
Restoration they were gj-aated to Charles II. and his two
successors for life. By Acts of Anne and George I. the
duties were made perpetual, and mortgaged for the public
debt In 1787 they were finally abolished, and other modes
of obtaining revenue substituted, by 27 Geo. III. c. 13.
. Poundage also signifies a fee paid to an ofhccr of a court for his
services, e.g.^ to a sheriff's officer, who is entitled by 23 Eliz. c. 4
to a poundage of a shilling in the pound on an execution u{> to
£100, and sixpence in the jwund above that sum
TONQUA BEAN. The Tonqua, Tonka, or Tonquin
bean, also called the coumara nut, is the seed of Dipienx
odorata, a Leguminous tree growing to a height of 80 feet,
native of tropical South America. The drupe-like pod
contains a singly seed possessed of a fine sweet " new-
mown hay " odour, due to the presence of a crystallizable
principle called coumariu, to which also the dried stalks of
Melilotvs cjiaiialis and the vernal grass A nlhoxanlhun.
odoratum owe their odour. Tonqua beans are used princi-
pally for sccating snuflf and' as an ingredient in perfume
sachets and in perfumers' "bouquets."
TONQUJN. See To.va-Kixp.
TONSILLITIS. See Throat Diseases
TONSURE. The reception of the tonsure, in the
Roman Catholic Church, is the initial ceremony which
marks admission to orders and to the rights and privileges
of clerical standing. It is administered by the bishop with
an appropriate ritual. Candidates for the rite must have
been confirmed, be adequately instructed in the elements
of the Christian faith, and be able to read and write.
Those who have received it are bound (unless in excep-
tional circumstances) to renew the mark, consisting of a
bare circle on the crown of the head, at least once a month,
otherwise they forfeit the privileges it carries. A verj
early origin has sometimes been claimed for the tonsure,
but the earliest instance of an ecclesiastical precept on tha
subject occurs in can. 41 of the council of Toledo (633
A.D.): " omnes clerici, detonso superius capita toto, inferius
solam circuli coronam relinquant." Can. 33 of the Quini.
se-xt council (092) requires even singers and readers to b«
tonsured. Since the 8th century tliree tonsures have beeo
more or less iu use, known res[.)ectively as the Roman,
444
T 0 N — T O O
the Greek, and the Celtic. The first two aro sometimea
disliDguished as the tonsure of Peter and the tonsure of
Paul ; in the latter the whole head was shaven, but when
now practised in the Eastern church this tonsure is held
to be adequately shown when the hair is shorn close. In
the Celtic tonsure (tonsure of St John, or, in contempt,
tonsure of Simon Magus) all the hair in front of a line
drawn over the top of the head from ear to ear was shaven.
TONTINE. This system of life insurance owes its
name to Lorenzo Tonti, an Italian banker, born at Naples
early in the 17th century, who settled in France about
1650. In 1658 he proposed to Cardinal Mazarin a new
scheme he had devised for promoting a public loan. His
plan was to the following effect. A total of 1,025,000
livres was to be subscribed in ten portions of 102,500 livres
each by ten classes of subscribers, the first class consisting
of persons under 7, the second of persons above 7 and under
14, and so on to the tenth, which consisted of persons
between 63 and 70. The whole annual fund of each class
was to be regularly divided among the survivors of that
class, and on the death of the last individual the capital
was to fall to the state. This plan of operations was
authorized under the name of " tontine royale " by a royal
edict, but this the parlement refused to register, and the
idea remained in abeyance till 1689, when it was revived
by Louis XIV., who established a tontine of 1,400,000
livres divided into fourteen classes of 100,000 livres each,
the subscription being 300 livres. Although the classes
were not quite filled, this tontine was carried on till 1726,
when the last beneficiary died, — a widow who at the time
of her decease was deriving from this source an annual
income of 73,500 livres. Several other Government ton-
tines were afterwards set on foot ; but in 1763 restric-
tions were introduced, and in 1V70 all tontines at the
time in existence were wound up. Private tontines con-
tinued, however, to flourish in France for some yt s, the
"tontine Lafarge " having been opened as late as 1791.
Tho tontine principle has often been applied in Great Britain,
chiefly to the purchase of estates or the erection of buildings for
which tte necessary funds coiilJ not be procured by ordinary
methods. The speculative element in the system has proved an
attraction. The investor stakes his money on the chance of his
own life or the life of his nominee enduring for a longer period
than the other lives involved in the speculation, in which case he
expects to win a large prize. The only thing v;hich will serve to
distinguish this from an ordinary lottery is the assumption that
some may apply greater care or skill in the selection of lives than
others of the players. The tontine principle is nearly the converse
of ordinary lite assunince, where it is the man who dies early who
obtains an advantage for his heirs at the exjiense of the long liver.
But it has been occasionally introduced into life assurance in the
distribution of prohts oi- surplus, and so far it tends to redress the
inequalities of the original contract, the profits being assigned to
the longest livers to a larger extent than in the comnum life
assurance system. The tontine principle has been brougiit into
considerable prominence by some American life offices (see Insur-
ance, vol. xiii. p. 183). All that is wanted to make the system fair
is that every one should understand that in order to secure a dis-
proportionate share of profits in the event of his surviving and
Keeping up his policy he must make a corresponding sacrifice if
be dies early or discontinues his insurance.
' TOOKE, John Hoene (1736-1812), an ardent poli-
tician and an erudite philologer, was the third son of John
Home, a poulterer in Newport Market, whose business
the son, when a pupil at Eton with other boys of a more
aristocratic position, in early life happily veiled under the
title of a "Turkey merchant." He \vas born in Newport
Street, Long Acre, Westminster, on 25th June 1736.
Some portion of his school days was passed, when he
was about seven years old, in "an academy in Soho
Square," and when three years older he went to a school
in a Kentish village. For a time (1744-46) he was at
Westminster School, but the greater part of bis educa-
tion was got at Eton, and then under private tuition.
first at Sevenoaks in Kent (1753) and then at Raven-
stone in Northamptonshire. In 1755 he was entered at
St John's College, Cambridge, and took his degree of
B.A. in 1758, as last but one of the senior optimes,
Beadon, his life-long friend, afterwards bishop of Bath
and Wells, being among the wranglers in the same year.
Strange to say, the object of all this care and expense
found himself doomed to the drudgery of ushership at a
boarding school at Blackheath, and the pleasures of his
lot were not enhanced by his father's strongly expressed
desire that he should take orders in the Church of England.
A strange vacillation marked his career at this period, a
vacillation probably due to a constant struggle between
his own inclination and the wishes of his father. He
was admitted to the diaconate of the church, and almost
at the same time was entered at the Inner Temple. He
studied for the bar for some time, mostly in the company
of Dunning and Kenyon, and then was ordained as a
priest of the national church by the bishop of Salisbury.
After this event his father obtained for him the next
presentation to the small vicarage of New Brentford, to
which Home was duly admitted, and he retained its
scanty profits until 1773. During a pa't of this time he
was absent on a tour in France, acting as the bear-leader
of a son of the miser Elwes. To his credit be it said that
while he resided at Brentford he discharged with exem-
plary regularity all the duties of his profession, and that,
reviving a practice of the previous century, he studied
medicine for the benefit of his poorer parishionera Under
the excitement created by the actions of Wilkes and the
blunders of his ministerial opponents. Home plunged into
politics with consuming zeaL The newspapers abounded
with his productions, but his chief effort was a scathing
pamphlet on Lords Bute a,nd Mansfield, setting out the
"petition of an Englishman." In 1765 he again went
abroad as tutor, and on this occasion he escorted to Italy
the son of a Mr Taylor, who lived near his Middlesex
parish, a young man subject to fits of insanity. It was
while passing through Paris on this tour that he made
the personal acquaintance of Wilkes, and it was while at
Montpellier, in January 1766, that a letter addressed by
Home to Wilkes laid the seeds of that personal antipathy
which afterwards grew so rapidly. In the summer of
1767 tlie travelled parson landed again on English soil,
and, in spite of his latent distrust of the so-called " patriot,"
his exertions quickly obtained for Wilkes that seat for the
county of Middlesex which ensured his fortune. Home
was deeply concerned in all the proceedings of the corpo-
ration of London in support of the popular cause, and he
advised, if he did not actually draw up, the celebrated
speech which Alderman Beckford addressed to his sovereign.
As an incidental act in this struggle with the court aiid
the majority of the House of Commons, Hcrne involved
himself in a dispute with George Onslow, the member for
Surrey, which culminated in a civil action, ultimately
decided in Home's favour, and in the loss by his oppo-
nent of his seat in parliament. An influential association,
called "the Society for Supporting the Bill of Rights," was
founded, mainly through the exertions of Home, in 1769,
but the members were soon divided into two opposite
camps of the thick and thin partisans of Wilkes and of
those who refused to be labelled by the name of any
combatant, and in 1770 Home and Wilkes broke out into
open warfare. Into this controversy, carried on with that
unflagging zeal which always springs from personal hatred,
none will now care to enter ; it benefited the fortunes of
neither of the combatants, and it damaged the success of
the cause for which they had both laboured energetically,
lu 1771 Horns obtained at Cambridge, though not with-
out some opposition from meiubois of both the political
T 0 o E :e
445
parties^tis degree of Jl.A., and in the same year ho em-
barked on a more laborious and costly undertaking, that
of vindicating the right of printing an account of the
debates in parliament^ in -which, after a protracted struggle
between the ministenai majority and the civic authorities,
tha-right was-definiteiy established. The energies of the
indefatigable parson kJiewBo bounds. In the same year
(1771) he- cro^d swordawith. Junius, and ended, in dis-
arming^ Jiis masked antagonist. It is a curious corollary
to- this controversy that more than one speculator has-
identifiedhiniwith.Junius. ~ Home had now passed mors
than tii^lf the allotted span of life, and his only-fixed
income «»nsisted of those scanty emoluments attached, to
a position ivhich gaJIed him daily. He resigned his bene
fice, and betook, himself to the study of the law and to his
studies inphilology^ An accidental circumstance, however,
occurred at this moment which largely affected his future.
His friend -ilr William Tooke had purchased a consider-
able estate- south of the tovm of Croydon in Surrey, part
of which seems, to have consisted of Purley Lodge in
Coulsdon. The possession of this property brought about
frequent disputes with an adjoining landowner, and, after
many actions in the law courts, the friends of Mr Tooke's
opponent endeavoured to obtain, by a bill forced through
the Houses of Parliament, the privileges which the law
had not assigned to him. Home thereupon, by a bold, libel
on the Sjieaker, drew public attention to the case, and,
although he himself -was placed for a time in the custody
of the sergeant^at-arms, the clauses which "were injurious
to the interests of Mr Tooke were eliminated from the bill
through the publicity which his conduct had given to the
matter, Mr Tooke's gratitude knew no bounds ;. he
declared his intention of makihg his friend the' heir to his
fortune, and, if the design was never carried into effect,
Horne derived from the generous old man during his life-
time large gifts of money. No sooner had this, jaatter
been happily settled than Home found himself involved
ia a more serious trouble than any that had yet befallen
liim.": Vm his conduct in signing the advertisement soli-
citing subscriptions for the .relief of the relatives of the
Americans murdered by the king's troops at Lexington
and Concord, he was tried at the -Gtuldhall in July 1777
before Lord Mansfield,, found guOty, and.committed to
the King's Bench prison in St George's Fields, from which
he-only emerged after a year's durance, and after a ioss,
in -fine and costs, amounting to, £1200. Soon after his
deliverance, as he had thrown off', as he thought,, his
clerical gown, he applied to be called to the bar, but his
application was negatived -on the grotind that his orders in
the church were indelible. To- retum to the church was
now impossible ; and Home tried his fortune, but without
success, in fanning some land .in Huntingdonshire?^ Two
tracts which were penned by him, one before -^d the
other after this failure in. practical life, exercised -great -
influence in the country. One of them, criti^dzihg the
measures of Lord North's ministry, passed through nume-
rous editions; the other set out a scheme of reform which
he afterwards -withdrew in- favour of that advocated by
Pitt. On his retvim from, his voluntary banishment in
Huntingdonshire, he 'oecame once more a frequent guest
at Mr Tooke's house of Purley, and in 1782 assumed the
name of Home Tooke, which is now invariably assigned
to him. In 1786 Home Tooke conferred perpetual fame
bpon his benefactor's country house by adopting as a second
title ef his elaborate philological treatise of Etcu UTipoevra,
the more popular though misleading title of The Diveraums
of Purley. The treatise at once attracted attention in
England and the Continent, was universally read by the
vulgar as well as the learned, and, while its conclusions,
ii not always carrying conviction to the erudite, were
deemed by them worthy of consideration as proceeding
from a mind of extensive learning and singular acute-
cess, the fame given to Purley by the choice of the title
gratified its- owner. The first part was published in. 1786,
the second in 1805. The best edition is that whick"tt4fl
published in 1829, under the editorship of Richard Tay5p/».
-with the additions written in the author's interleaved -copy'i
Between 1782 and 1790 Tooke gave his supportr to Pitt,'
and in the election for Westminster, a constituency ia
which Fox was vitally interested, he threw all his energies
into the ministerial cause. With Fox he was nev^r on
terms of Iriendship, and Samuel Eogers,.iu \n&^ Table J!alk,
asserts that their antipathy was so pronounced that at -a
dinner party given by a prominent Whig not the slightest-
notice -was taken by Fox of the presence of Horne Tooke,'
It was after the election-of Westminster in 1788 that
Tooke depicted the two rival statesmen in his celebrated
pamphlet of Two . Pair of Portraits. At the genera^
election of 1790 he came forward as a candidate for that-
distinguished constituency, in opposition to Fox and Lord.
Hood, but was defeated ; and, though he again sought the
suffrages of its voters in 1796, and his speeches at the
htistings were never exceeded in ability, he -was again at
the bottom, of the poll Meantime the excesses of the
French republicans had. unhinged the minds of all sections
of society in England, and the actions of the Tory min-
istry^ iaithfuHy" represented the feelings of the country.
Home Tooke was arrested early on the morning of 16th
May 1794, and conveyed to the Tower. His trial for
high treason lasted for six days (October 17-23) and.
ended-in his acquittal, the jury only requiring the short
space of .eight minutes to settle their verdict. The evi-
dence "which the crown could adduce in support- of tha
charge proved to be of the slightest description, and tha
demeanour of the accused throughout the proceedings
furnished abundant proofs oL.the resolution of his mind
and the force of his abilities. His public life after this
event was only distinguished by one act of importance,'
Through - the. influence of Lord Camelford, the fighting
peer, he -was returned to parhament in 1801 for the
pocket borough of Old Samm. No sooner was he returned
to the House of Commons than Lord Temple endeavoured
to secure his exclusion on the. ground that he had tfikea
orders in the church,, and one of GiUray's caricatures
delineates the two pohticans. Temple aud Camelfordj
playing- ut battledore and shuttlecock, with Horne Tooke
as the shuttlecock. The ministry-of Addington would not
support this suggestion, but a bill was at once introduced
by -them and-carried into law, which rendered all persoim
in holy orders ineligible to sit in the- House of Commons.
The parliamentary hfe of ^he membei-for Old Sarum -was
preserved through one parliament, but at its expiration ha
was excluded for ever.
The last years of Tooke's life were -spent in retirement
in a house on the west side of Wimbledon Common, and
there he was visited by the leading members of the party of
progress. The traditions of his Sunday parties have lasted
unimpaired to this day, and the most pleasant pages penned
by his biographer describe the i)oliticians and the men of
letters who gathered round his hospitable board. His con-
versational powers rivalled those of Dr Johnson ; and, if
more of his sayings have not been chronicled for the benefit
of posterity, the defect is due to the absence of a Boswell.
Through the liberality of his friends, his last days -were
treed from the pressure of poverty, and he was enabled to
place his illegitimate son in a position which soon brought
him wealth, and to leave a competency to his two illegiti-
niflite daughtei-8. Illness seized him early in 1810, and for
the next two years his sufferings -were acute. He died in
his house at Wimbledon on.lStkMarch 1812, and his bod/
446
T 0 P — T 0 R
was buried with that of his mother at Ealing, the tomb
which he had prepared in the garden attached to his house
at Winioledon being found unsuitable for the interment.
An altar-tomb still stands to his memory in Ealing church-
yard. A catalogue of his library was printed in 1813.
The Life of Home Tookc, Ijy Alexander Stepliens, is written in an
nnattractive style, and was the work of an adn-.ia'r only adnnttcd
to his acquaintance at the close of his days. Its main fact^' arc
reproduced with more brightness in an essay uy Mr J. E. ThoiolJ
Rogers in the second series of his Bistiyrical Glcaninijs. Many of
Home Tooke's wittiest sayings are preserved in the Tabic Tulk of
.Samuel Rogers and S. T. Coleridge. (W P. C )
TOPAZ. It appears that the stone described by ancient
writers under the name of toto^io?, in allusion to its
occurrence on the island of Topazion in the Red Sea, was
the mineral which we now know as the chrysolite or
Peridote (9.T.). The topaz of modern mineralogists was
unknown to tue ancients. Topaz occurs either crystallized,
in association with granitic rocks, or in the form of rolled
pebbles in the beds of streams. The crystals are ortho-
rhombic prisms, with a perfect cleavage parallel to the
base, or transverse to the long a.tis of the prism. Tlis
cleavage is recognized by the lapidary fis the " grain " of
the stone. It is notable that crystals of topaz are com-
monly hemimorphic ; in other words, the prisms are ter-
minated by dissimilar faces. This hemimorpbism is as.so-
elated with the property of pyroelectricity (see Miner-
alogy, vol; xvi. p. 376). The chemical composition of the
topaz has given rise to much discussion, but the mineral is
now generally regarded as a silicate of aluminium associ-
ated with the fluorides of aluminium and silicon. When
strongly hcaied it suffers considerable loss of weight.
Brewster, examining the topaz microscopically, detected
numerous fluid cavities, whence ho concluded that it had
been formed in the wet way. • Two of the fluids obtained
from these cavities have received the names of brewstrr-
linite and cryptolinite. Some of the finest topazes are
almost colourless, and may be occasionally mistaken for
diamonds. The topaz, however, is inferior in hardness , it
lacks "fire", and it becomes electric when heated — a pro-
perty not possessed by the diamond Coloin'less topazes
are known to French jewellers as gonttcs dean, and in
Brazil as jnngas d'agoa — names which refer to the limpi-
dity of the stone — ivhile in England they pass in trade
under the curious name of minas novas. The beauty of
the stone is best developed when in the form of abrijliant.
The topaz is cut on a leaden wlieel by means of emery,
and is polished with tripoli. Coloured topazes are usually
either yellow or blue. The pleochroism of the stone is
very marked : thus the colour of the sherry-yellow crystals
from Brazil is resolved by the dicliroiscope into brownish
yellow and rose-pink. The colour is unstable, the yellow
topaz especially being liable to suffer bleaching by exposure
to sunlight. Hence the fine scries of crystals of Siberian
topaz from the Kochscharow pollection, now in the British
Museum, is carefully protected from light by means of
opaque pasteboard caps. In 1750 a Parisian jeweller
named Dumelle discovered that the yellow topaz of Brazil,
ivhen exposed to a moderate heat, assumed a rose-pink
colour, it is generally believed that all the pink topaz
occurring in jewellery owes its tint to artificial treatment.
Formerly it was the practice to heat the stone in a sand-
bath, but the change of colour is now generally effected
by wrapping the stone in German tinder, which is then
ignited. This " burnt topaz " is sometimes known to
jev.ellers as " Brazilian ruby." In like manner the blue
topaz occasionally passes under the name of " Brazilian
sapphire," and the palo green as "aquamarine " — a name
which is strictly applicable only to the sea-green beryl.
The largest known cut topaz is a fine brilliant, weighing
368 carats, and termed the " Maxwell Stuart topaz."
The topaz is Gcca.sioDally found in Britiin, but U3u?.lly in small
crystals unlit for jewellery. It occurs in granite at St Jlichael's
Mount in Cornwall, in Lunuy Island, and in Arran, but the finest
British specimens are obtained from the Highlands of Scotland.
Beii-a bourd, one of the Cairngorra group, yields good blue crystals.
Topa? occurs in colourless and blue crystals in the granite of the
Mourne Mountains in Ireland; and microscopic crystals are not'
uiiconimon in ceitain other granites. The famous lopa2.rock of
tlie Schneckenstein, in Saxony, yields pale yellow crystals of great
benuly as mineralogical specimens, but not snited for cutting.
The yellow Saxon topaz does not seem to change coloor on exposure
to heat. Sonic of the finest topaz cocoes from near Odon Tchelon,
m Siberia ; while the well-known deep-yellow crystals of Brazil
occur near Villa Rica (Ouro Preto). Fine topaz, palo blue and
colouilebs, is found, as rolled crystals, in Tasmania and on Flinders
Island in Bass's Strait. It also occurs in the tin-drifts of New
South Wales ; and beautifully-formed limpid crystals, of small size,
accompany slrean-.-tiii at Duringo, in Mexico. Fine topaz fit for
jewellery li.is recently been worked at the Platte Mountain, near
Pike's Peak, Colorado. One stone, weighing 125 carats, has been
described as being *'as fine a gem as America has produced of any
kiud"{Kunz, 1S85). Topaz also occurs in cavities in rhyolite at
Nathrop and Chalk Mountain, Colorado, and in trachyte near devier
Lake, Utah. It is likewise foimd in Arizona, m New Mexico, and
at Stoneham, Maine.
Oriental topaz is the name sometimes given to yellow corundum,
a mineral which is readily distinguished from ordinary topaz by
its superior hard-ess and density. The yellow and smoky varieties
of quartz, or cairngorm, are often known in trade as Scoteh topaz,
but these are inferior to true topaz in hardness and in density.
The chief differences between the three may be thus expressed; —
Scotcti Topaz.
True Topu.
OHeDtal Topu.
Hardness
Specific gravity
Crystallization.
7
2G
Hexagonal.
8
35
Orthorhombic.
9
i
Hexagonal.
TOPEKA, a city of the United States, the county seat
of Shawnee county and the capital of the State of Kansas,
is situated (39° 3' N. lat. and 95° 39' W. long.) for the
most part upon the south bank of the Kansas or Kaw
river, upon a level prairie bench considerably elevated
above the river. A small portion, known locally as North
To(ieka, lies upon the north side of the river. Besides the
State capitol, which is an imposing building in the midst
of an extensive park, the city contains the State insane
asylum and the reform school. The Atchison, Topeka,
and Santa Fe Railroad Company has its offices and work-
shops here, and the city is also intersected by a branch
of the Union Pacific line. In 18G0 Topeka had only 759
inhabitants ; in 1870 the number had risen to 5790. In
1880 the population was 15,452 (8140 males and 7312
females) ; and in 1886 the number is returned at 25,005,
making Topeka the .second largest city in the State. The
assessed valuation in 1886 was S6,547,079, and the debt
of the corporation only 8422,900.
TORCELLO, a small island 6 miles north-east ot
Venice, now almost deserted, but once a place of much
importance. Torcello was one of the parent islands from
which Venice was colonized, and possessed a cathedral
church long before St Mark's was founded. In the 11th
century Torcello had already begun rapidly to decline.
The existing cathedral of S. Maria is a building of the
highest ecclesiological importance, unique in Europe as a
perfect example of the arrangement of the choir in the 6th
or 7th century, when the original cathedral was built, and,
though most of the upper structure was rebuilt by Bishop
Orseolo' about lOOSj the plan ot the church and the
fittings of the choir still exist as they were originally
designed. • The church consists of a nave, with ten bays
of arches on marble monoliths, and three aisles each
terminated by an apse. Round the walls of the central
apse are six tiers of seats for the officiating clergy, and,
in the centre, raised above the others, a marble throne
for the bishop, approached by a flight of steps (see vol.
' .Son of the Venetian doge Pietro Orseolo L
TO E — T 0 E
-447
uL p. 418,* fig" 16).- The high altar stood iu front of the'
steps, and the celebrant stood with his back to the apse^
I'Xiking over the altar towards the congregation. An
exactly similar arrangement still exists in manj- of the
early Coptic churches of Old Cairo : the church of Abu
Sergeh is a specially perfect example.' A\'hen the church
vras reconstructed in lOOS, Bishop Orseolo did not interfere
with the older and then obsolete arrangements of the
choir, but added a later choir, formed bj: marble screens,
projecting three bays into the nave, with seats along three
sides of the enclosure, — an arrangement like that which
8till exists in the church of S. Clemeute in Rome (see
KoME, voL sx. p. S33). The present choir-stalls date from
the 15th century. A fine marble ambo was at the same
time placed outside the cancelli, and the position of the
celebrant at the high altar wa^ reversed. The vaults of
the three apses are covered with fine glass mosaics, added
probably in the I"2th century : in the centre is a large
figure of the Virgin, with the twelve apostles below ; other
mosaics cover the vaults of the aisle-apses and the whole
entrance walL_ The latter, much restored, has scenes of
the Crucifixion, the Doom, and Heaven and Hell. The
sculpture of the nave capitals and on h 5 marble cancelli
is very graceful work of Byzantine style, closely resembling
similar panels at Kavenna. One remarkable peculiarity
of this church is the marble shutter which closes each
window on the right wall; these have pivots which revolve
in projecting corbels — a very early method of closing
windows of which very few examples still exist. Even
when the shutters were closed some dim light passed
through the semitranslucent marble slabs.^ An octagonal
baptistery, also built by Bishop Orseolo, stood outside the
main entrance to the chiarch, but has been rebuilt on a
smaller scale. The crypt under the central apse of the
cathedral is probably part of the original church, unaltered"
by any later changes.* The small church of S. Fosca, which
is connected with the cathedral by a loggia, is also a
building of exceptional interest, dating from the 10th cen-
tury. It is purely Oriental in plan, and much resembles
that of St Mark's at A'enice and S. Vitale at Ravenna, on ,
a small sc-:'ie. It has a cruciform nave, with a large dome
supported on eight columns, and a projecting choir with
three apses. Externally it is surrounded by a loggia,
supported on marble columns with rich Byzantine capitals.
S. Fosca was partially rebuilt in the 12th century, and has
since been much modernized, but its original very interest-
ing plan still remains but little changed.
TORGAU, a fortified town in the Prussian^ province of
Saxony, is situated on the left bank of the. Elbe, SO miles
north-east of Leipsic and 26 miles south-east of Witten-
Iserg. ; Its most conspicuous building . is the Schloss
Hartenf els,' on an island in the Elbe, begun in 1481 and
completed in 1544 by the elector John Frederick the
Magnanimous. This castle is one of the largest Renais-
sance buildings in Germany, and contains a chapel con-
secrated by Luther in 1544. , The town-house is a quaint
building of the middle of the 16th century, and there are
several other large and' fine buildings, chiefly modem.
The parish church contains the tomb of Catherine von
Bora, Luther's wife. The once flourishing weaving and
brewing industries of Torgau have declined in modern
times ; but the town has manufactures of gloves and
' See .Middleton in Archxologia, ToL xlviiL p. 39S.
^ ' Similar marble slabs, not made to move, stiU eiist in the apse
^windows of S, Miniato, near Florence,, and once existed in the basilica
6f S. Loreniofaori le ilura, Rome.
' The cathedral of Parenz'o, in Istna, a -Kork of the 6th centniy,
innch resembles the cathedral of Torcello (see vol. iii. p. 418, fig. 17).
Similar.plans are -also to. be seen in many of the earlj chnrches of
Bjria (see Dc Vogfie,- S^-^CenirbXe, Pans, 1S65J aiAdl as in, the
CoBlic ciiorches cf Egypt;'
miscellaneous articles,'and carries on trade in grain, kc,
on the Elbe and by rail. The fortifications, begun in
1807 at Xapoleon's command, are largely surrounded with
water ; they include a tete-de-pont at the end of the bridge
across the Elbe. In 18S5 the population was 10,9fcS
(in 1V83 4000), a large proportion of them soldiers.
Torgau is said to have existed as the capital of a distinct princi-
pality in the time of the emperor Henry 1., but by 1305 it was in
the possession of the margrave of Meissen. It was a frequent resi-
dence of the electors of Sa.\ony. In Reformation tinits Torgau
appears as the spot where John of Saxony and Philip of Hesse
formed their league against the Roroaa Catholic imi>cri;J estates ;
and the Torgau Articles, drawn up here by Luther in 1530, were
the basis of the Augsburg Confession. The Thirty Years' War
inflicted great suffering on the town. In 1760 Frederick the Creat
defeated the Austrians in the neighbourhood of Torgau. The town
capitulated to Tauenuieu oa January 10, 1S14, after a siege of
three months.
TORONTO, the capital of the province of Ontario and
the second largest city in the Dominion of Canada, is
situated on a large and finely sheltered bay on the north
shore of Lake Ontario, between the rivers ,Don and
Humber. The magnetical and meteorological obVervatory,
in the university grounds, stands at a height of 108 feet
above the lake, and approximately 342 feet above the
level of the sea, inlat. 43° 39' 35" X., long. 79° 23' 39" W.'
Toronto is 39 miles north-east of Hamilton, at the head of
Lake Ontario, and 310 mUea west-south-west of Montreal
The bay is formed by a peninsula or island about 6 miles
long, enclosing a fine basin of 3-44 square miles, with a
narrow entrance at the west end. This forms a safe and
commodious harbour. The city stands on a thick deposit
of boulder clay, overlying shaly sandstones of the Cin-
cinnati or Hudson River group, practically equivalent in
S— ,-1 — I—' — ■' — \ — 1"^^=^ ,'' ' I
tr'''-^ " F il .1 jl
Plan of Toronto.
1. Front street.
2. King Street (West),
3! Kinfi Street.
4. King Street (EastX ;
5. Richmond Street. •
6. Queen Street (West).
7 Queen Sn^eet.
8. Qnein Street (East).
9. York Street.
Baild-
10. Bas Street.
11. Yonce Street
12. Pariiamens
lags.
13. Government Hotise
14. Upper Canada Col-
lege,
i5. Osgoode HolL
16. St Michael'sCathedTal.
17. Metropolitan Chtu-du
13. Fiee Ltbraiy.
19. St James's CatheCTi.
CO. River Don.
21. Knox CulleEB.
22. University College.
23. MacneiicObservatorj.
24. Queen's Park.
25. St JaiDes's Pirk.
position to the Caradoc horizon of British geology. These
thin-bedded sandstones crop out on the lake shore, and
have been quarried for flagging and building purposes at
the mouth of the Humber. In the northern part of the
city the boulder clay is overlaid by stratified clays of the
Post-Glacial age, largely used in the manufacture of bricks,
of which many of the houses are built. The site slopes
gradually from the margin of the bay for a distance of
3 miles to a terrace or ancient lake margin immediately
outside the northern limits of the city, which occupies
an area of 12'83 square miles, or of 17'99 square milea
including the harbour and island. The streets cross each
other at right angles. ^Yonge Street, the main thoronga-
4^i8
TORONTO
fare miming north and soutli, was ccnsfci-ucted as a great.]
military road in 179G, and extends under the same name,
for upwards of 30 miles, to Lake Simcoe. It constitutes
the dividing line of the city,.the streets being reckoned
east or west according to their relation to it.
The city is the seat of the provincial Government,
with the official residence of the lieutenant-governor, the
parliament buildings and Government offices, the courts
of law, and the educational departmental buildings for
Ontario. The provincial legislature occupies the old par-
liament buildings erected in 1849, when Toronto was the
cipital of Upper Canada ; but they have long been recog-
nized as inadequate for the purpose. Plans have accord-
ingly been prepared, and the new buildings are now in
process of erection. The site is in the centre of the Queen's
Park, a finely wooded park of upwards of 30 acres,
originally laid out for the provincial university, and on
■which^the old buildings of King's College stood. The
new university building occupies a fine site immediately
to the west It is an imposing structure, of great architec-
tural beauty, in the Norman style, with a massive central
tower. The buUdings of the provincial school of practical
science, and of the magnetical observatory, are also erected
in the university grounds. The observatory is one of the
meteorological stations established- by the British GoveVn-
ment, on the recommendation of the Royal Society, in
1840. It is nowniaintained by the Dominion Government
The tmiversity,- University CoUege, -and the school of
practical science embrace in their conjoint teaching a
comprehensive- system,^ of "training in arts and science;
and in them upwards of 500 students receive their training
in arts, in. the natural and applied sciences, and in
engineering. There is also a medical faculty, reorganized
under a recent Act, in conjunction with the department
of science in the university. The university and college
constitute iinitedly the state institution maintained by
public funds, and strictly secular. But it is surrounded
with the theological and training -colleges of different
denominations in affiliation with it, the students of which
pursue their undergraduate course in the university for
a degree in arts. The affiliated colleges, some of which
give degrees in divinity, include Knox College (Presby-
terian), Wycliffe CoUege (Church of England), St Michael's
College (Roman Catholic), Macmaster Hall (Baptist), and
Victoria College (Methodist). Besides the provincial uni-
versity and its affiliated colleges. Trinity College (Church
of England) gives instruction in divinity and arts, and.
confers -degrees in aU the faculties. Toronto and Trinity
medical schools occupy convenient buildings in the imme-
diate viciidty of the general hospital, the Burnside lying-in
hospital, and the Mercer eye and ear infirmary. The
students in medicine number nearly 500, including a small
number of lady students, for whom special instruction
is provided^ Upper Canada College, founded in 1829,
is a provincial institution analogous to one of the great
English public schools. It has about 300 students. The
Collegiate Instituteoccupies a fine building immediately
to the west of the horticultural gardens. It is the higher
school, forming an important feature in the provincial
system of education, and is maintained, along with the free
public schooLs, from local taxes. . Its students number
443, of whom 182 are females.
Osgoode Hall, the seat of the superior courts of law and
equity, is an ornate Italian building, extended at various
dates. The provincial asylum for the insane affords
accommodation for upwards of 700 patients ; it is sur-
rounded with recreation grounds extending to DO acres.
The city charities are numerous and well organized.
The churches include some large and handsome buildicga
Among the more important public buildings are those of
-the educational department, including n museum and
gallery of art, normal and model -Schools ; the custom-
house, a fine Renaissance building, with extensive ware-
houses attached ; and the post-office, also of tasteful
architectural design. The free city library occupies a com-
modious building in Church Street, in addition to branch
libraries in different parts of the city. It contains upwards
of 47,000 vols. There are 35 city public schools, occupying
large and commodious buildings, with 262 teachers and
20,213 children. The separate (Roman Catholic) schools
number 13, with 60 teachers and 3792 children.
Toronto is the seat of many flourishing industries, in-
cluding foundries, tanneries, furniture, stove, shoe, and
other manufactories, flour-mills, breweries, ha. The site
of the city is favourable.to commerce. It is the centre of
a rich agricultural district ; and its harbour is of easy
access to the largest vessels that navigate the lakes. It lies
directly opposite the mouth of the Niagara river, distant
40 miles ; and throughout the season of navigation wtU-
appointed steamers maintain communication with the prin--
cip>al routes of travel in the United States and Canada.
By means of the Grand Trunk, the Great Western, the
Northern, the Canada Pacific, and other railways, it forms
an important commercial centre for distribution ; and it is
the seat of the head offices of most of the banks and of
the chief wholesale trade of western Canada, The direct
route from the lower lakes to Lake Superior and the great
North-West is by the Northern Railroad to Georgian Bay,
where lines of steamers maintain constant communication
from Collingwood and Owen Sound to Prince Arthur's
Landing and the railways to Manitoba and the North-West
In 1861 the population numbered 44,821 ; in 1871 it
had increased to 56,092 ; in 1881 to 86,415 ; andin 1887
it is believed to amount to 140,000. The actual number
on the assessment rolls is 111,800. The estimated yaloe
of real estate in Toronto is $105,000,000. The assessed
value in 1886 was $83,556-,811. The annual revenue of
the city is estimated for 1887 at $1,812,941. The amount
of customs duties for the fiscal year ending 30th June 1887
was $4,273,038. The value of exports to the same date
was $3,192,157, and of imports $21,020,528. The city
returns three members to the Canadian House of Commons,
and three to the provincial legislature of Ontario.
In the despatches of Canadian officials of Louis XIV. in the 17th
century Toronto means the country of the Huj-ons, a region lying
between Lake Simcoe and Lake Huron, about 40 miles north. The
river Humber, which enters Lake Ontario immediately to the west
of the Bay of Toronto, though navigable only for a short distance
even by canoes, formed with its portages a line of communication
between Lake Ontano and the Huron country. Hence the station
near the mouth of the river became the common landing-place for
trading aud hunting parties bound for the region known of old as
Toronto, and so received its name. A French trading post, built
there in 1749, and originally named Fort Rouille, after the French
colonial minister Antoine Louis Rouille, comte de Jouy, was
familiarly known as Fort Toronto. The Northern Railway, the
fii-st one constructed in Upper Canada, followed the route of the
old Indian trail, and established a direct line of communication,
by means of steamers from Collingwood, with Lakes HorOD,
Michigan, and Superior. The railway passes through a fine agri-
cultural country, and is now exteuded into the Muskoka and
Nippitsing districts, bringing an extensive lumbering region into
direct communication with Toronto.
The site for the town, was surveyed inl 793 by Surveyor-General
Bouchette, under the instruction of the lieutenant-governor,
General Simcoe; and in his narrative of the original survey
■ Bouchotte describes the untamed aspect of the scene, with the
■group of wigwams of a little band of Mississnga Indians who coo-
stVtuted the sole occupants of the land ; while the waters of the
bay and the neighbouring marshes were the haunts of innumerable
coveys of wildfowl The first parliament of Ui)ptr Canada held
its second session in May 1793 at the town of Newark, at the
mouth of the Niagara river ; but in the following August the seat
of government was transferred to Toronto, to which General Simcoe
gavo the name of York, in honour of the duke of York, tbe'second
80Q of, George III. Under its new nain^ the embryo mettopoUa
T-O R — T O R
449
i
slowly progn;ssed as the siitronnding country was clerired and settled.
Tue entiuuco to the baiboor was guarded by two block houses ;
provision was made for barracks and garrison stores ; buildings were
erected for the legislature ; .ind there the members of ^>al■li£.raen^
summoned by royal proclamation to "meet us in our provincial
mrliament in our towuof York," assembled on the 1st of June 1797.
Sixteen years later the population numbered only 456. The town
was twice sacked in the war of 1312. General Dearborn captured it
at the head of a force of upwards of 2000 dntwn from the neighbour-
ing States. On their advance to the out^vorks of the garrison, the
magazine of the fort exploded, whether by accident or design, killing
many of the invaders. The halls of legislature and other buildings
were burnt, and the town pillaged. On the restoration of peace the
work of creating a capital for Upper Canada had well nigh to begin
anew. But the city advanced with the general progress of the
country. Trade centred in the little capital; the population in-
creased; and needful manufactures were established. Theorganiza-
tion of Upper Canada College in 1830, with a staff of teatheis nearly
all graduates of Cambridge, gave a great impetus to the city and pro.
vince. In 1S34 the population of York numbered fully 10,000 ; and
an Act of the provincial legislature conferied on it a charter of in-
corporation, giving it for the first time an etficient system of munici-
pal government, with a mayor, aldermen, and councilraen, entrusted
with the administration ol its affairs. Under this charter it was
constituted a citv, with the uarae of Toronto. " " (D. W. )
■ ... <■ - f ' •>
TORPEDO. Torpedoes' may be briefly described as
charges of some' e.vi)losive agent, enclosed in watertight'
cases, and moored or propelled under water at snch depths
that by their e.^plosion they may sink or seriously damage
a vessel in their vicinity. The u.sfc of torpedoes in naval
warfare was proposed and even attempted in the end of the
last and beginning of the present century, but no successful
application of them was made until the American Civil War
of 1861-64. The word "submarine mine" is generally
substituted for " torpedo " when speaking of defensive or
stationary mines, the latter term being reserved foe loco-
motive torpedoes, or others used in offensive oneration.s.
1. Submarine Mines. — Submarine mines are divided into
three classes: — (1) observation mines, fired by an electric
current when the enemy is observed to be within the de-
structive area of the mine; (2) electro-contact mines^which,
when struck, fire by automatically completing the electric
circuit from the battery ashore; (3) mechanical mines,
which, when struck, fire through the action of some con-
trivance within themselves, and are not connected with the
shore. Mines of the first class are used in places where a
channel has to be kept clear for screw steamers to pass,
the second class in those parts of the channel where there
is little traffic, and the third class in channels which^it is
intended to bar equally against friend or foe.
Electrical mines have the advantage over mechanical
that by the removal of the firing battery the passage of a
ship is rendered perfectly safe, and that the condition of
the mine can be ascertained by electrical tests, but the
electric cables are liable to damage, and add grestly to the
expense of the defence.
Gun-cotton and dynamite are' the explosives generally
used in mines, the charges varying from 30 Bb to 500
fc, according to the description of mine. In all mines
the charge is exploded by means of a detonatoi con-
taining fulminate of mercury. In mines loaded with
gun-cotton the detonator is inserted in a priming charge
of dry gun-cotton, this priming charge being in a metal
case, flosely surrounded by the wet gun-cotton comprising
the remainder of the charge. Where dynamite is employed
tfie priming charge is not necessary. Experiments made
to determine the horizontal distance at which an ironclad
will be vitally injured by different charges have yielded
the following general results : —
Choige.
Submergence.
rilstahce.
.../». :
10 to 35 ft
30 ft.
60 ft.
4 ft.
10 ft.
15 ft.
£50 lb ground mine ...
.- M
The explosion of 500 lb of gun-cotton_ at a horizontal
distance of 30 feet would seriously injure a vessel, and 30
tt) in contact with the bottom below the armour would
probably blow a hole through. the outer and inner skin.
The deiiths given above are approximately the best depths
to get the fullest effect out of the charges ''mentioned.
\\T)en the water is" so deep that if the mine were placed
on the bottom it could not exert its full destructive effect
oil the bottom of a ship, it is given enough buoyancy to
allow it to float above its moorings, — a mine on the bottom
being termed a " ground mine," and a mine floating above^
its moorings a " buoyant mine."
If mines are placed too close together the' explosion'of
one will damage those near jt, the interval which roust be
left between them being — for a 100 lb mine, 100 feet ; for
a 250 lb mine, 250 feet ; and for a 500-lb mine, 300 feet.
There is therefore always a possibility of- a ship passing
through a single line of mines without coming within the
destructive area of any. Mines are .therefore generally
arranged in two or more lines, the mines of one line
covering the spaces left between the mines of the next,
or several mines may be laid close' together, and .the
whole exploded simultaneously.
The electric circuit of all electrical mines is very similar.
A voltaic battery ashore has one pole put permanently to
earth and the other pole joined to the electric cable lead-
ing to the mine. This cable passes into the' mine case
through a water-tight joint, and is connected up to one
jtole of the electric detonator, the-other pole of the deton-
ator being connected to the mouth piece of the mine and
consequently to earth. To prevent the mine being fired
until the proper moment has arrived, this circuit must be
broken somewhere, and means provided for completing it
when the nyne is to be fired. In the case of observation
mines this is done by inserting A fiiring. key in the electric
cable near the bafterj', and in electro-contactlmines by a
circuit closer in the mine.
The right moment to fire an observation mine is determined by^Obser-
two observers ashore, who have each adjusted two sights in line vation
with the mine, as it was lowered into losition, — the stations for.minca.
these observers being chosen so that their lines of sight may be as
nearly as possible at right angles to each other. The electric cable
from the mine is led past both observers and connected to a firiug
battery, one pole of which is pnt i)ermanenlly to earth. A firing
key inserted in the circuit at the station of each observer renders
the simultaneous pressure ol both keys ncCL-ssary to explode the
mine, if each observer depresses his firing key as the centre of
the enemy crosses his own line of sight, both keys can only bo
pressed simultaneously if the enemy arrives at the intersection of
the two lines of sight, and consequeutly over the mine. When
many mines are placed in one channel, it is usual to moor them in
three hues, the prolongation of each line converging to an observing
station, where the direction of each line is marked by sights. The
electric cables from all the mint-s come to another observing station,
and are there connected to separate firing keys, each of which has
one pole joined up to a firing battery. The observer at thi.'? station
13 also provided with a sej»arate sight marking the direction of each
mine in all the lines. The former station is termed the " couverg-
ing" and the latter tlie "firing" station. The observer at the
converging station telegraphs to the firing station the instant at
which the centre of the enemy is on one of the lines of mines, the
observer at the firing station determining by means of his sights
which individual mine the enemy is over, and he can fire it by
pressing the eorres^>onding key.
Instead of scjiarate sights for each mine, observing arcs may bo
used. These instruments are furnished w-itli a telescoi»e, which
can be constantly directed on the enemy, a bar attachment auto-
ntatically closing the circuit when the direction of the enemy cor-
responds to a mine. The camera obscura has also been used foC
determining the position of an enemy in the mine field.
Electro-contact mines are buoyant mines moored about 10 feet Electro-
below the surface, and arc in connexion with an electric battery contacti
a.^hore. They are arranged to cvplode on being struck by a passing mine.*w
ship, by means of an apparatns contain.cd in the mine itself, called
a circuit closer. Many dilTerent kinds oi circuit closers arc in use,'
hut they all depend ujion there being a break in the electric circuit
vhile the circuit closer ie at rest, the circuit closer completing tho
circuit when the mine receives a blow. That most commonly useJ
xxni. — 57 ■ '
450
T O R P E D a
(%. j) consists of a steel s(nnJle a carrying a weiylit b oaitsTjpper
«oa. This steel spindle carries au insulate J brass ringc, to'wiucK
iho wire from the detonator d is attached, the other pole^of the
detonator being connected to the cable e leading to tne electric
battery. On the mine being struck the inertia of the weight causes
the steel rod to vibrate sufficiently to bring the insulated ring iu
contact mth bi-ass springs in connexion with the earth, thus com-
pleting the circuit of the electric battery through the detonatoo^
Another form of circuit closer is a tube of
mercury, which by splashing up when the
fnino is struck completes the electric circuit
between two previously insulated points.
A single main cable from the battery may
have several electro-contact mines attached
to it; the expense of leading a separate wire
from each mine to the battery is thercfoif
avoided. If one mine was fired the brokei.
fcud of its branch wire from the main cable
vrould be left in thq water, and on auotlier
mine being struck it would ouly receive a
portion of the current, as the battery would bo connected to earth
through the broken branch. Each branch wire must therefore
have ft disconnector in circuit, clear of the explosion. The discon-
nector consists of a ]>latinuiu mrc fuse contained in a strong iron
case, and the same current wliich fires the detonator in the mine
fuses the platinvim wire bridge of the disconnector, and the circuit
to the broken branch remains insulated.
Muchan-^ Mechanical miues, of which thoi'e are many different patterns,
leal contain the means of ignition within themselves, and are uncou-
mines. nected with any aj^paratus ashore. They ni.ay bo ignited by per-
cussion, friction, chemical action, and electricity.
A simple form of mechanical mine has a heavy top, which, on
being pushed off by a passing ship, eitlier pulls out a pin and I'e-
leascs a pluugcr, which is then forced by a powerful spring iuto a
detonator, or a friction tube is fii-ed when the weight falls on a line
attached to it. Another form, known as Abel's mcchaniail e.t-
ploder, consists of a glass tube containing sulphuric acid, and sur-
rounded by chlorate of potash and sugar. The whole is contained
in an india-rubber tube, which projects from the top of the mine,
the lower end being in communication with the charge. When
struck, the india-rubber tube bends, and, the glass tube breaking,
the sulphuric acid mixes with the chlorate of potash and sugar and
inBames the charge.
Electro- Electro-mechanical mines can bo made by placing a voltaic-
rcijchan' battery inside the mine iti-elf and joining it up to a fuse and circuit
ical closer, the circuit closer completing the
minea circuit when the mine is struck. Another
'form of electro-mechanical mine {fig. 2)
'has several projecting horns {a, a, a) of
lead tubing. Iniide each horn is a gIa•^b
tubo containiiiy bichromate of potash,
and immediat'.l ' under it a row of smal'
zinc and carton, plates, b, in a contain-
ing cell On any one of the lead horns
being beut, the glass tube is broken, and
tho bichromate o^ ]X)tash -tlrops into the
coll, convorting the arrangement into a
voltaic battery, which,, being already counecteJ to "the electric
fuse c, firos the mine.
All mecbaniciid and electro-mechanical mines aro provided ^vitK
Bome contnvanc* to guard against accidental explosion during tho
process of laying. In mechanical mines a safety pin can be with-
drawn aft«r the mine is in position, or, in the case of Abel's exploder,
the projecting tubo is surrounded by iron segments which fall olT
when tha mine is In jwsitiou. In electro-mechanical mines two
of the wires forming part of the circuit inside the mine may bo
brought through to the outside and kept apart till the mine is in
position, those wires being long enough to allow of the operator
retiring clear of the explosion before joining them up and rendering
the mine dangerous.
Mech»>^cal mines have the advantage over electrical that they
require ^6*cr trained men 5
for their mani|inlatiou, are :■ "
cheaper, andean be placed in 1
position very rapidly. But ,'
no really efficient method
has yet been devised that
will ensure a mechanical
mine, after it has been
placed in position, being
safely taken up again for'
examination or removal, nor can any tests bo applied to ascertain
\Sit remains in an efficient condition.
.Ccuiitei All mines, especially those with electric cables attached, must
ffilolDg. be protected by gun fire or guard boats, as, if the mine field is un-
protected, they can be easily destroyed by countcnnlning or creep-
ing. Countermining is carried out by exploding a succaaaion of
clmrges in. &n enemy's mine field. Mines containing heavy clnr~r'>
■would be used for the purpose, several of these mines being droppc d
in succession from a boat towed by a fast steamer, the whole line
being exploded together as soon as the last miue had been dropped.
Numerous experiiuents have proved that the explosion of a 500 K>
mine will effectually destroy any mine within a radius of 100 feet;
the countermines would therefore be di'opped at double this distance
ai^rt, and the channel so cleared marked by buoys. Electric cables
can also bo caught and raised to the surface by grapnels ; or the
grapnel may have a case of explosive between its arms, so that,
instead of raising the wire, it may bo cut by firing the chaigc.
2. Locomotive Tor}>edoes. — Locomotive torpedoes are a
numerous class, the principal being tho Whitehead, Lay,
Sims, Brennan, and Ericsson. The Whitehead is the only
one which can be considered a well-developed uava!
weapon.
This torpedo (fig. SJMs made in different sizes, varying white-
from 12 feet to 19 feet in length and from 12 to 15bea.t
inches in diameter ; the cross section is circular, tapering '"T^' '■''•
to a point at each end. It is capable of being so adjusted
that on being discharged it will travel at any depth be-
tween 5 and 15 feet below the surface, and it wll maintain
this depth for its entire run. The torpedo travels at a
uniform speed for the whole of its range, the speed and
range varying for different patterns ; the latest type has a
speed of 24 knots for 600 yarda. The toriiedo can be set
so that, in the event of its not striking the ship aimed at,
it will stop at the end of its range and siuL For exercise
it can be set to stop at any distance \vithia the limits of
its range, rise to the sui-face, and float. The torpedo is
divided into several compartments. The foremost A con-'
tains a charge of from 30 to 100 lb of gun-cotton, accord-
ing to the size of the torpedo. This charge is fired on the
torpedo striking a ship by a pistol which screws into the
uose of the tori)edo. On impact the point of tho pistol is
driven inwards and- forces tho pobit of a steel striker into
a detonator. By means of powerful air-pumps air is com-
pressed, into the iiir-chamber B to a pressure of 1000 lb on
the square inch, and actuates a thiee-cylinder engine, which
drives two propellers revolviug in opposite directions in the
taiL The mechanism in the balance-chatnber C works two
exterior rudders ou each side of the tail, which keep the
torpedo at a uniform depth during its run. This device
has never been patented, but is a secret; the details of it,
however, have been purchased by all prominent maritime
nations.
The tail F'is fitted with four broad fins, which tend to
keep the torpedo on a straight course and prevent it roll-
ing. The horizontal tail fins carry four rudders, two hori-
zontal and two vertical. The horizontal rudders worked
from the balance-chamber keep the torpedo at its set
depth ; the vertical rudders are permanently adjusted so
as to cause the torpedo to travel in a straight line.
The air-chamber of a torpedo is usually made of fluid
compressed steel, the remaining compartments of thin
steel plate, and the interior mechanism of phosphor-bronze.
In Germany torpedoes are now made entirely of phosphor-
bronze.
The torpedo can bo discharged from above or. below
Fio. 3.— Wlillehead Torppdn.
water. From above water it is shot out of an air gun (fig. H)
mounted on Iho deck of a ship and pointing through
the side. The air-gun consists of a metal tube a, a, a, of
the same length as the torpedo, the rear end being closed
by an air-tight door. The gnn carries a reservoir <•■ «i
T 0 R — T 0 R
451
loompresscd air, the content* of which, by means of a suit^
able firhig^ Valve d, can be instantaneously admitted into
the gun. ^V'hen the torpedo is to be discharged this firing
valve is oji^Eed, and the compressed air in the reservoir
foroa the t«rpedo out at a high velocitj', a tripper 6 pro-
jecting through the top of the gun throwing back the
starting lever of the torpedo on its way out. From below
water tlic torpedo is discharged through a tube, the muzzle
of which forma part of the stem of the ship, the tube being
fitted with an outside ■ vaKo, which prevents the water
from entering while the torpedo is placed in the tube.
Latterly powder has been used instead of ^compressed air
for the ejecting force.
(jy Tlio Lay torpedo is a boat of cylindrical form, the fore part being
torjusdo chargexl with an expletive. The motive power is carbonic .icid <;as
generated in the usual way. As only a very small jmrtion of the
boat is visible on the surface, two ^uide roJs, one on each end of
the vessel, maik its position at any part of its run. The boat can
be started, stopped, and steered by njeaus of an electric cable, con-
taining several insulated wires, which is paid out from the boat
as it travels.
Sims ^ The Sims toritedo is cig<ir-shaped, and is subi>ciulcd to a boat*'
torpeilo.^s1iaiicd flo.it. The torpedo is propelled by screws driven by an
*electr2. %iotclT situated in the body, tlie current for wliieh is
supplied from a dyuamo ashore. The electric cable is coiled on a
drum iu the torpedo, and pays 6nt as the torpedo advances. The
torpedo is also steered from the shore bv an eiectriti current. Its
•speed is about 12 knots.
Br«nii»n Tlie principle of the Brcnnan torpedo is as follows. The torpedo
corpcrfoi contains two dnims upon which a large amount of pianoforte wire
is wound. Ouo euii of the wiie from each drum is taken to l.uge
,drums ashore, which are revolved by a steam-engine. By winding
up on the large drums ashore a rotatory motion is imparted to the
tlfunis in the torpedo, which by means of gearing revolve two screw
pT0|)cller3, and these drive the torpedo through the water. The
-torpedo can bo steered from the shore in any direction, by winding
on one drum faster than the other, which alteration in mo'iou
moves a vertical rudder on the torjiedo.
Kricsaoi^ The Ericsson torpedo is a long fush-shapcd weapon, made of
torpedo,!. wood, and weighted so as to have little or no buoyancy. The
charge is contained in a metal case at the fore end. -It is pro-
jicUed by a charge of gunpowder, ont of a submarine grin fixed
'in the bows of a ship, lu range is about 300 feet, and it fires
on im[>acL * .
Out- . V Outrujgcr, Dri/ling. aiul Towing 7'oc;>crfo?s.— Before the introduc
T^^S"", , tion of .the Whitehead, vessels armed with torpedoes were priuci-
dnfting ■ jo.lly supplied with the outrigger torpedo. The explosive is con-
--»nil to». tained in a metal case secured to the end bf a steel or wooden pole,
infj tor- . which lies fore and aft in the vessel carrying it. The pole can be
I'mJooa.- rigged out until the 'torpedo is submerged a short distance ahead of
the vessel, and is iired on contact with the enemy's side, either by
an 0|ierator in the boat completing the electric circuit, or bv the
circuit being completed by a circuit closer in the torpedo". In
livers, or places with a current, drifting torpedoes can be used.
They should be suspended from floats, and arranged in groups or
pairs counected together by a rope, so that they may catch across
the bows of a vessel at aiichor. They can be fired after a given
l-ipse of time by clockwork and other ilevices, or can be .so arranged
that the firing arrangement is released on ft catch being withdrawn
by the action of a propeller wheel, which remains stationary .is
Jong as the torjiedo drifts with the current, but is revolved by the
force of the current when the torpedo is stopped. ' Towing torpedoes
aro constructed to diverge fro'n cither side of a ship when towed,
which is clfected by shaping the torpedo like an otter! The torpedo '
tows on the surface, and, on striking a ship's side, the head con-
taining the charge drops olT, and fires as its weight tautens a line
connecting it to the body.
Torpedo Torpedo Bonis. — Tnc great improvements made of late years in
*joats-- .tnavhine guns have rendered the outrigger and towing torpedo of
little value for torpedo boats, as it wouldbc almost iiivpassible to
approach a vessel near enough to use them before the boot would
^ destroyed by the storm of missiles which would be fired at her.
(AH toriK'ilo boats under construction, and most of those already
completed, are therefore armed with the Whitehead toi pedo. A
moileni torpedo boat is built entirely of steel, the pl.ites often not
.exceeding ,'; inch in thickness, as, in order to get the netc^saly
|high speed, the minimum of weight consistent with the, necessary
stivnglh is of the first imporiancc. There are three classes of boats,
known as first, second, and third. The first are ca|able of keeping
the sea on their own arconiit ; the second arc for harbour defeiicel
and the thinl can be carried on board a ship.
The following tabic gives the dimensions and other details of a
noat ?f each type: — '
Tvpc or
boat. _
Length.
Beam.
Dis-
plncc-
Full
Speed
In
Inillcalcil
Horse-
P.iwcr
m Full
Speed.
Boiler
PlVSSUlC,
Ih per
Squ.-irc
Inch.
Distance Bo.it
can steam with
Coul curl icd at
■j Knots.
Fnll
Speed.
Hair
Speed,
1st cituts..
■2.1 il.ss...
3.1 lUss ,
Ft.
li.5
K
04
Ft. in
11 0
II 0
7 f.
T..11V
ss
M
I.'.',
J1-
20
ll.iO'
4.-.D ■,
1.111
ijo ■'
124
130
Knots.
400
l.'.O
100
Knots.
VOOO
400
250
The boilers and machineiy ate protected by coal, and an armoured
tower protects the st.-ering gear and telegraphs for controlliitgthe
engines.
Torjmlo Nets.— The introduction of the modern toriiedo boat has Torncda
causitd great attention to be pai.l to any means which will [.roteet nets,
a ship from the torpedo. Most iialioiis are adopting steel-wire
netting, suspended from booms attached to the ship's tide, the booms
keeping the nets sufficiently far off to prevent afiy damage being
done to the bottom by the explosion of the largest charge carried
by a Whitehead. This netting, besides being cumbersome and
heavy, cannot be used unless the ship is stationary or nearly so, so
that in many cases it would be useless, but for ships at anchor it
is of great value. Increased cellular subdivision is also being given
to ships under construction, and special vessels, called "torpedo
catchers," are being built by most nations. "A torpedo catcher
is a vessel of superior size ami strength, but with the same high
speed as a torpeJo boat, the principal arm of the torpedo catcher!
beiug machine guns.- (E. P. G )
TORQUATUS. ' See M'anlids.
TORQUAY, a watering-place ol England," is finely
situated on the northern recess of Tor Bay, Devonshire,
and on the Dartmouth and Torbay branch of the Great
Western Railway, 12 mifes north of Dartmouth, 23 south'
of E.xeter, and 220 west-south west of London. Owing
to the beauty of its site and the equability of its climate,
it is the favourite watering-place of Devon, and, being
screened by lofty hills on the north, east, and west, and
open to the .sea breezes of the south, it has a high reputa-
tion asawintcrresi-
deiice. V The tem-
perature seldom
rises as " high as
70° in summer or
falls below freezing -
point in winter i
The lower ground
is s occupied by
shops, hotels, and
the plainer class of
houses, while man-
sions and villas
occupy the pictur-
esque acclivities of
the well-wooded
limestone . cliffs,
commanding ^ a
great variety ' of -
fine views. There tnvirons of Torquay.,
are still some remains' of the original Torre abbey,
founded for Prsmonstratensians by William, Lord Brewer,
in U9G. 'They stand to the north of the modern man-
sion, but, with the exception of a beautiful pointed-arch
portal, are of comparatively small importance. On the
south of the gateway is an' old 13th-century building,
kno»-n as the Spanish barn.' On Chapel Hill are -the
remains of a chapel of the 12th century, dedicated to St
Michael, supposed to have formerly belonged to the abbey.
St Saviour's parish church of Tor-Mohun, or Tormohain,
an ancient stone structure, was restored in I.''74. The
old church at St Mary Church, to the north of Torquay,
has been rebuilt in the Early Decorated style; and in
1871 a new tower was also erected as a memorial to Dr
Fhillpotts, bishop of Exeter, who with his wife is buried
in the churchyard. St John's church, by Street, is a very
fine example of modern Gothic Among , the princijial
452
T 0 R — T O R
secular buildings aro the towu-hall with square tower
(1852), the post-office (1865), the museum of the natural
history society (1874-), the theatre and opera-house (1880),
the couuty police court, the market, and the schools of art
aod science (ejctended in 1887). There are a number of
ieuevolent institutions, including the Torbay infirmary and
dispensary (1843), the homoeopathic dispensary (1848), the
Western hospital for consumption (1852), Crypt House
institution for invalid ladies (1854), and the Mildmay
home for incurable consumptives (1886) In 1886 the
local board purchased from the lord of the manor, at a
cost of ^685,000, the harbours, piers, baths, assembly rooms,
Ac, including 60 acres of pleasure grounds and open
spaces. The town is supplied with water from the Dart-
moor hills, 16 miles distant, at a cost of XI 20,000.
There is a couvenieut harbour, extended in 1870 at a
cost of £70,000, and having a depth of over 20 feet at
low water. The principal imports are coals, timber, and
slates, and the principal exports are stones of the Transi-
tion limestone or Devonshire marble, which is much valued
for building purposes. In the town are a number of
marble-polishing works. Terra-cotta ware of very fine
quality is also manufactured from a deposit of clay at
Watcombe and at Hele. The population of the urban
sanitary district (Tormoham with Torquay, area 1465
acres) in 1871 was 21,657, and in 1881 it was 24,767
Tliere wns a village at Torre even before the foundation of the
abbey, and in the neighbourhood of Torre are remains of Roman
ocoupaliou. The manor. was granted by William the Conqueror to
Richard de Bruvere or de Brewere, and was subsequently known
as Tor Brewer. After the defeat of the Spanish Armada, Don
Pedro's galley was brought into Torbay; and William, prince of
Orange, landed at Torbay 5th November 1688. The bay was a
rendezvous for the British fleet during the war with France, and
the first good houses at Torquay were built for the officers. Until
hair a century ago it was an insignificant" lishing village.
See Blewitt's Panorama 0/ Torifuay, 1832, ami White's Histori/ of Torquay, 1878.
TORQUEMADA, Juan de (1388-1468), or rather
Johannes de Turbecremata, cardinal, was born at
Valladolid in 1388, and at an early age joined the Do-
minican order, early distinguishing himself for learning
and devotion. In 1415 he accompanied the general of his
order to the council of Constance, whence he proceeded
to Paris for study, and took his doctor's degree in 1423.
After teaching for some time in Paris, he became prior of
the Dominican house first in Valladolid and then in
Toledo. In 1431 Pope Eugenius IV. called him to Rome
and made him " magister sancti palatii." At the council
of Basel he was one of the ablest and most prominent
supporters of the view of the Roman curia, and he was
rewarded with a cardinal's hat in 1439. He died in
1468.
His principal works are In Gratiani Decrctum Crnnmmlarii, i
vols., Venice, 1578; Expositio Brevis et Ulilis super Toto Psalterio,
Mdiii5 474; QuaEstwiics SpirilimUs super Evangclia Totiiis Anni^
Bn«en 1498; Smmna Ecclcsiaslica, Sa.\SimancA, IbfiO. The last-
ii.imed work has the following topics:— (1) De Universa Ecclesia;
(2) De Ecclesia Romana et Pontificis Primatu ; (3) De Universali-
bus Conciliis ; (4) De Schismaticia et Haereticjs.
TORQUEMADA, Tomas de, inquisitor-general for
Castile and Leon, was born early in the 15th century, and
died in 1498. When called to the work with which his
name is so unenviably associated he was prior of the
Dominican house in Segovia, See IwQnisiTioN.
TORRE ANNUNZIATA, a town of Italy, in the pro-
vince of Naples, 12J miles south-east from that city,
on the Bay of Naples, at the southern base of Vesuvius.
The inhabitants are mainly occupied in fishing and in
a brisk coasting trade ; there are also manufactures of
arms, paper, and macaronL The population in 1881 waa
20,060.
TORRE DEL GRECO, a town of Italy, in the province
of Naples, 7 J miles to the south-east of that city, lies
at the south-west foot of Vesuvius, on the shore of th»
Bay of Naples It is built chiefly Of lava, and stands on
the lava stream of 1631, which destroyed two-thirds of
the older town Great damage was done by the erup-
tions of 1737 and 1794, when immense streams of lava
flowed through the town into the sea , the earthquake
of 1857 and the eruption of December 8, 1861, were
even more destructive. After each disaster the people
have returned and repaired the ruin, the advantage de-
rived from the rich landion the flauks of the volcano
and the proximity to the sea and to Naples being more
than enough' to overcome apprehensions of danger Id
the outskii'ts are mauy beautiful villas and gardens. The
inhabitants are largely employed in fishing (tunny, oyster,
sardine, and especially coral), and the neighbourhood is
famed for its fruit and wine. The population in 1881
was 21,588.
TORRE Y, John ( 1796- 1 873), a distinguished American
botanist, was a member of an old New England family
which contributed several officers to the War of Independ-
ence. He was ixirn at New York, and spent his school
days there, save for the concluding year at Boston When
he was 15 or 16 years of age his father received a prison
appointment at Greenwich, and there he made the ac-
quaintance of Amos Eaton, one of the foremost pioneers
of natural history studies and popular science teaching in
America. He thus learned the elements of botany, as-
well as something of mineralogy and chemistry, so deter-
mining the studies of his life. In 1815 he commenced the
study of medicine, meanwhile finding time to prepare his
first catalogue of plants, and to establish a correspondence
with American and foreign botanists, andiu 1818 he com-
menced practice. Stimulated by Elliott's account of the
flora of South Carolina and Georgia, Torrey commenced a
systematic account of the botany of the Northern States,
of which the first and only volume appeared in 1824 In
the same year he obtained the chair of chemistry and
geology at West Point military academy, whence he was-
translated three years later to the chemical professorship
in the college of physicians, New York. He next de-
scribed the collections of the first exploration of the
Colorado Territory, so laying the foundation of all subse-
quent v/ork upon the flora of the Rocky Mountains. In
these years he also monographed the sedges, and did good
service in substituting the natural for the LiuuEean system
In 1836 he was appointed botanist to the State of New
York, producing his Flora of the State in 1843 while
from 1838-43 he carried on the publication of the earlier
portions of Flora of North' America, with the assistance of
his pupil Asa Gray. Becoming more and more immersed
in chemical labours, which from 1857 passed partly and
soon completely into those of U.S. assayer, he notwith-
standing continued to accumulate and work up masses of
material for this vast undertaking, which still awaits com-
pletion at the hands of his colleague and successor. Prof.
Gray. He evinced a continued interest in botanical teach-
ing, and made over his valuable herbarium and library to
Columbia College two or three years before.his death. He
will be remembered not only as the father of American
systematic botany, and an accurate and faithful, if some-
what excessively cautious, investigator, but also as an
eminent teacher, and for an excellence of personal char-
.acter and simplicity of beliefs much resembling Faraday's.
His memory is literally kept green by the beautiful Con-
iferous genus Torreya, and his labours commemorated and
continued in the valuable memoirs of the Torrey Botanical
Club.
See Gray, in Silliman's Journal, 1873.
TORRICELLI, Evangelista (1608-1647), physicist
and mathematician, was born at Faenza, October 15, 1608
T O R — T O R
453
l.eft fatherless at an early age, he ^ras carefully educated
under the care of his uncle, a CamaJdolese monk, who in
1627 sent him to Rome to profit by the scientific teachings
of Benedetto Castelli. The peruial of Galileo's Dialogki
~d(Ue Nvove Scieiue {\GZS) inspired his fertile mind with
many fresh developments of the new mechanical principles
there set forth, which he embodied in a treatise -De ilotu
(printed amongst his Opera Cr'ometrica, 1644). Its
-commnnication by Castelli to Galileo ic 1541 led to lb©
adoption as a disciple by the -Florentine vi<^ of one who
jseemed not unworthy to become his successor. Torricelli
accordingly, repairing to Florence, October 10, 1641,
resided with Galileo, and acted as his amanuensis during
the three remaining months of his life. ,0n its close his
contemplated return to Rome was anticijiated by his
•nomination as grandducal mathematician and professor of
mathematics in the Florentine academy. The discovery
which has peq)etuated his fame was made in 1643.
•Galileo had failed to perceive, why water refuses to rise
•above 33 feet in a closed tube. It occurred to Torricelli
to try the experiment in a more compendious form. The
anticipated resmt ensued that the suspended column of
mercury was shorter than that of water in the proportion
of its greater specifi ^ gravity. He immediately concluded
both to be sustained by atmospheric pressure, and- con-
structed the " siphon-barometer " expressly for the purpose
•of measuring its fluctuations. By this momentous dis-
•covery the obscure notion of a fuya vacai :was banished
from* physical science, -and its progress most notably
quickened. The mercurial barometer was long known as
the " Torricellian tube," and the vacunnrit-includes is still
designated the " Torricellian vacuum." ~
The publication amongst Torricelli 's Ojjeni Geometrica
(Florence, 1644) of a tract ca the properties of the cycloid
involved him in a controversy with Eobervaf, who accused
him of plagiarizing his earlier solution ofthe problem of
its quadrature. There seems, however, no room for -doubt-
that Torricelli's was arrived at independently; 1' Jle matter
was still in debate when he was seized witL fever and-
pleurisy, and died at Florence, after' twenty days' illntss,
October 2-5, 1647, at the age of 39. He was buried in
San Lorenzo, and a commemorative statue of him erected
at Faenza in 1864. He was of a singularly amiable dis-
position, and possessed qualities the most felicitous for the
investigation of nature. Among the new truths detected
by him was the valuable mechanical principle that if any
number of bodies be so connected that, by their motion,
their ceutre of gravity can neither ascend nor descend,
then those bodies are in equilibrium. He also discovered
the remarkable fact that" the parabolas . described (in a
vacutim) by indefinitely numerous projectiles discharged
from the same point ■with equal velocities, but in all
directions, are situated within a paraboloid which is a
tangent to all of them. His theorem that a fluid issues
■from a sma'J orifice with the same velocity (friction and
atmospheric resistance apart) which it wotild have acquired
in falling through the depth from its surface is of funda-
mental importance in hydraulics. He greatly improved
both the telescope and microscope, and invented the simple
microscope composed of a globule of melted glass. Several
large object lenses, engraven with his name, are preserved
at Florence. He used and developed Cavalieri's method
of indivisibles.
A selection from Torricelli's manuscripts was published by
Tommaao Bonaventura in 1715, with the title Ledmii Accadanichc
(Florence). They inclode an address of acknowledgment on his
admission to the Accadcmia delU Cnisca. His essay on the
inundations of the Val di Chiana was printed in Puvxolla iAulori
the tToUano del Moto dciC Acqite (vol iv. p. 115, Florence, 1768)
■and amongst Opixoli Idraulici (voL iiL p. 347, Bologna, 1822).
.For his life, see Fabroni, KiZb ItaloruTn, vol. I p. 345; GHinaasi,
Xtitere fin, qui ImdiU di £vaj\geluia Torricelli (Faenia, 1864)i
Tii-aboschi, Storia delta LctL II., vol. viii. p. 302 (fil. 1824);
Montuela, HisL des Matt'i.', voL ii.; Marie, Hist, dcs SAeucis, VoL
iv. p. 1S3.
TORRIGIANO, Pibtko (r. 1470-1522), a Florentine
sculptor, was, according to Vasari, one of the group of
talented youths who studied art under the patronage of
Lotenio the Magnificent in Florence. Ben. Cellini, report-
ing-a conversation with Torrigiano, relates that he and
Michelangelo, while both young, were copying the frescos
in the C^mine chapel, when some slighting remark made
by Michelangelo so enraged the violent temper of Torri-
giano that he struck him on the nose, and thus catised
that disfigurement which is so conspicuous in all the
portraits of Michelangelo. Soon, after this Torrigiano
visited Rome, and helped Pinturicchio in modelling the
elaborate stucco decorations in the Appartamenti Borgia
for Alexander VL After some time spent as a hired
soldier in the service of different states, Torrigiano was
in'vited to England to execute the magnificent tomb for
Henry VII. and his queen which still exists in the lady
chapel of Westminster Abbey. This apj^ears to have been
begun before the death of Henry VII. in 1509, but was
not finished till 1517. It consists of two colossal recum-
bent effigies in gilt bronze on an altar-tomb of black
marble, decorated with very graceful medallions of the
patron saints of Henry and his wife, and other enrichments
in bronze. TLe two effigies are well modelled, and have
life-like. but net too realistic portraits. After this Torri-
giano received the commission for the altar, retable, and
baldacchino which stood at the west, outside the screen of
Henry VIL's tomb. The altar had marble pilasters at the
angles, two of which still exist, and below the mensa was
a life-sized figure of the dead Christ in painted terra-cotta.
The retable consisted of a large relief of the Resurrectioa
The baldacchino was of marble, with enrichments of gilt
bron'ze ; part of its frieze still exists, as do also a large
number of fragments of the terra-cotta angels which sur-
mounted the baldacchino and parts of the large figure of
Christ, The whole of this work was destroyed by the
Puritans in the 17th century.^ Henry \'1IL also com-
missioned Torrigiano to make him a magnificent tomb,
somewhat similar to. that of Henry Vll., but one-fourth
larger, to be placed in a chapel at Windsor {q-v.); it was,
however^ never completed, and its rich bronze was melted
by the Commonwealth, together with that of Wolsey's tombi
The indentures for these various works still exist, and are
printed by Xeale, Westmimter Abbey, London, 1818, voL
i. p. 54-59. These interesting documents are written in
English, and in them the Florentine is called " Peter
Torrysany." For Henry VIL's tomb he contracted to
receive £1500, for the altar and its fittings £1000, and
£2000 for Henry VLH.'s tomb. Other works attributed
from internal evidence, to Torrigiano are the tomb of
Margaret oi Richmond, mother of Henry VH, in the
south aisle of his chapel, and a terra-cotta effigy in the
chapel of the Rolls._
Wliile these royal works were going on, Torrigiano vis-
ited Florence in order to get skilled assistants. He tried
to induce Ben. Cellini to come to England to help him,
but Cellini refused, partly from his dislike to the brutal
and swagg ring manners of Torrigiano, and also because
he did not wish to live among "such beasts as the Eng-
lish." The latter part of Torrigiano's life was spent in
Spain, especially at Seville, where some terra-cotta sculp-
ture by him still existsj His violent temper got him into
* An old drawing irtill exists shou-ing this elaborata worit : it is en-
graved in the Hierargia Amjlicana, London, 184S, p. 267. Many
hundreda of fragments of this terra-cotta Kculptoie were found a
few years ago bidden under the floor of the tnforinm in the abbey ;
they are ttsfortonately too muck broken and imperfect to be fictad
together..
,454
T O R — T O R
di65culties witli the authoritiBs, ^nd he eodefl his life in
1522 in the prisons of the Inquisf^ion.
' " TORSHOK, a district town of JRassia, in thtf jowrt-
ment of Tver, on the river Tvertsa, SS miles by rail to the
south-west of the Ostashkovo station of the &t Petersburg
and Moscow railway. It dates from the 11th cenfeii^,
and the very name (" market-place ') shows that this de-
pendency of Novgorod was a commercial centre. It was
strongly fortified with a stone wall, which, however, only
partially protected it from the attacks of Mongols, Lithu-
anians, and Poles. Torshok is now celebrated in Russia
for its embroidered leather-work and manufacture of travel-
ling bags, and for its trade in corn and flour. The popu-
lation in 1881 wasl2,900.
TORT, as a word of art in the law of England and the
United States, is the name of civil wrongs (not being
merely breaches of contract) for which there is a remedy
by action in courts of common law jurisdiction. It may
be said_ to correspond approximately to the terra "delict"
in Roman law and the systems derived from it. But this
is only a rough approximation. For in English usage
tort includes, not only those matters which in Roman law
are classed under obligations q^iasi ex delicto, but various
others which ■ Roman or modern Continental lawyers
would refer to the law of ownership or real rights, and
not to any such head as "delict." The truth is that
the actual development of tort as a legal genus has
been purely historical and to no small extent accidental.
Xothin_g can be learnt, of course, from the word itself.
It is merely the French word for " wrong," specialized
in'o a technical meaning by a process which was com-
pleted only in the latter years of the 17th century and the
earlier of the 18th. _.
The early common law had no theory of obligations in
the Roman sense, and hardly any theory of contract. Its
remedies were directed either to. the restitution of some-
thing which the defendant unjustly detained from the
plaintiff — were it land, goods, or money — or to the repres-
sion of violent wrongdoing. Only the former class of
remedies- was purely civil ; the latter included a penal
element of which lofmal traces remained long after the
substance had vanished. ' A man who trespassed on his
neighbour with force and arms offended the kitg as well
as his neighbour, and was liable not only to pay damages
to his neighbour but to make a fine to the king. Gradu-^
ally the category of " force and arms " was held to include'
all manner of direct injuries to person, land, or goods,
though the force might consist in nothing more than the
bare setting foot without lawful cause on the soil pos-
sessed by one's neighbour. But this was still a long way
from making room for the modern growth of the law of
torts. The decisive opening was given by the Statute of
Westminster, which enabled actions to be framed " on the
case" — in consimUi casu, — that is, allowed legal remedies
to be extended by analogy to the forms of action already
recognized. Now those forms and their incidents were
archaic and inelastic : the procedure was cumbrous, and
plaintiffs were liable in many ways to irrational and
irreparable discomfiture _jThe more modern action on.tbe
case .was free from these drawbacks. Hence it was the
aim of ingenious pleaders to extend the action on the case
as much as possible ; and so successful was this movement
that in the ICth century a special form of " trespass on
the case " . became, under ' the name of assumpsit, the
common and normal method of enforcing contracts not
made by deed, and .remained so till the middle of the
present century!^ It still holds its place in those Amer-
ican States where the old forms of action have not been
abolished. Note that "assumpsit" had become a sub-
stantive title of the law, and' was consciously referred to
its proper genus of contract, before the goiius or order of
torts was formed. Meanwhile other actions on the case,
framed mostly on the analogy of trespass, but partly oa
that of other generically similar remedies of the old law,'
were apjilied to the redress of miscellaneous injuries to
person or property which for one and another reason could
not bo touched, or could not be conveniently dealt with,!
by the old action of trespass itself. Some of these actions'-
on the case acquired fixed forms-of their own and becanje'
distinct species ; others did not ; there remained (and'
there still remains in theory) an undefined region of pos4
sible new actions applying the principles of legal right and
duty to new exigencies of fact.
The extension of forms of remedy grounded on trespass
caused those forms which were grounded on restitution to
fall into the background, with the curious result that ia
the modern common law nothing is left answering to the
mndicatio of the Roman law. We have an elaborate law
of property, but when it comes to the practical protection
of our rights we find that we can recover our property
only by complaining of a wrong done to our possession or
right to possjssion. The law puts the actual possessor m
the first line, and allows an owner definitely out of posses-
sion to sue only for " injury to the reversion," though an
owner who can resume possession at will is indeed more
favourably -treated. Its remedies are made efficient, but
at the cost of straining the theory at various pointa^
Hence many difficulties of detail and much obscurity of,
principle. The distinction between dominium and obli^
(jatio exists, of course, in English law, but it is peculiarly
hard for an English lawyer, with the usual unsystematic
training, . to grasp it^with certainty or trace it with
accuracy.
■ There is also a region of considerable obscurity about
the points of contact between contract and tort. Th&
questions thus raised are too technical for discussion here^
Since pleadings have ceased to be formal they are much
less likely to arise ; ' on the other hand, they are more
likely, in the exceptional cases where they may still arisa^
to be unexpected and baffling. '
For the practical purposes of modem law we m.iy divide torts into-
three groups, — wrongs of a pereonal character, wrongs alfectiiis
property, and wrongs affecting person and projierty, eitlier or both.
Under the first group come- the wrongs of pliy»ical violence and
restraint, namely, assault and false impri-sonmeut ; then the wrong
done to men's good name by libel and slander, in wliich kind then
are sundry curious and not wlioUy rational distinctions; and w»
must here rather than elsewhere count deceit, and a somewhat ill-;
defined class of wrongs of a like nature, of whicli the generic mark,
is the neces.Si\iy prese'nce of a fraudulent intention, or at least reck--
less disregard of good failli. In one case, that ofnalieions prose-,
cution, evil motive must be shown; in tact, tho 'much-tormented
word " malice " has very nearly its natural and ordinary mcaningj
So-called slander of title belongs to this class, being in tnith a
special form of deceit. Wilful interference with the exerdse of
public or private rights may be an actionable wrong, thon^i the
competitive exercise of like rights is none; and it is held. tioDgh
not without doubt, that procuring a person to break his contract
for one's on-n advantage (for example, a singer engaged by a rival
opera manager, or a Sfiecially skilled workman in a rival factory)
is on this principle a wrong to the other contracting party.
With regard to property the broad mle of the common law is-
that a man°meddle3 with whatever belongs to others at his peril.
This has been established and woiked out only through a senes of
intricate formal distinctions. But the result is that, special excep-
tions e.\ccpted, even the most iimocent assumption of dominion
without a real title makes one liable to the true omier-
Wiongs of the mixed kind allecting both person 'and property
arise from the use of one's own property, or the doing-of acts lawfur
in themselves, in a manner inconsistent with the '--afcty and con-
venience of others. The accustomed lieads of ruch MTongs are,
nuisance and negligence. Generally some failure in due diligcnoj-
is involved; but in some cases the law has, on grounds of gcpeial;
policy, imposed an absolute or all but absolute duty of avoiding
harmful results. One must do certain things at cue's peni, if »t
all, though the doing of them is not in itself unlawfiJ ; others aj»
done not at one's peril, and yet nnder a wider respoi. Jtbility thar-
T 0 Pt — T 0 R
455;
the common run of b«ful acts It is mil "lonf; to maKL' .iii
ariiticial ivservoir ot" watci on one's own bnj ; but the lauJowncr
\vho tlocs so must answer for :\U damage, tliougb uo failuic in ii\ic
diligence be show n, if the wutor escapes by any cause which reason-
able humaii care couIJ possibly have provideil against. Again,
the occupier of a place of business must keep it in safe repair, for
tiie benefit of customoi-s anil otliens lawfully coming there; anil, if
liarm is done through the want of rei«ir, it is no excuse for him
lo say that he hntl cugageJ on apparently competent person to
jkeep tilings in order. These an: modern principles in the law, and
'seem to have hardly yet reached their full development. The
floctrinc of negligence i'. also mus4ly modern. Questious of much
interest and difficulty are l•ni^ell by "eontriliutory negligence," i.e.,
when it is alleged by way of derencc that the party complaining
sufiered wholly or mainly by his own want of care. The true
principle appears to lie that, if nnder the circumstances the harm
Mitferid by the plaiutilf was the natiiial and probable conseriuencc
of the defendant's want of faie, the defendant is liable, — and this
whether the idaintilT, or some thud person, has or has not in any
degree contributed to the final result by want of rare on his own
jnrt, or even by a voluntary act, provided that the act be such as
might have been foiesecn and expected. I'.nt if the plaintiff has
done something which, though induced by the defendant's default,
was not a natiiial and probable conse'|ncnce of it, or if the harm
snrferod ii due to some act of a third person wliich could not have
been rea.son.-.bly foreseen or expected, then the defendant will not
be liable.
I A great number of special duties have been iinpised on different
classes of persons— public officers, undertakers of public occnpa.
tious. and .so forth — by modern Acts of ParUament, and are enfoic-
ftble by penalties. In some cases the breach of such a duty confers
A separate riglrt of action upon a person who thereby suffers
ilamage, in others not, aeconling to what appears to be the iiiten-
!ion of the enactment. No general rule can be laid down.
In practice, a large proportion of actionable injuries, especially
injuries by negligence, are due to the acts or defaults of servants
or workmen, from whom no substantial redress ^'ould be obtainetl
or expected. It is held in the common law, and appears to be
held in all modern systems, that a master is liable for the acts and
defaults of the servants employed by him, provided those acts or
defaults oc<ur in the course of the servant's employment, that is,
while the servant is about the master's bosiness, ard acting with
a view to the master's interest, and not for some different private
purpose of his own. But a man is not generally liable for the
conduct of an "independent contractor "^a person who under-
takes to do or get done certain work, but not to be, under the
employer's control as to the manner of doing it. One may be so
liable, however, in viitue of special duties attached to particular
situations by positive rules of law. When a servant is injured by
the act or default or another servant working 'under the same
employer, the general i-ule of liability has been largely modi6ed in
the employer's favour, on grounds which have neither been con-
sistently expounded nor generally received as satisfactory. The
Employers' Liability Act of 1S80 has remedied the most obvious
hardships coDseijuent on the decisions, but only by Avay of particu-
lar exceptions, so that the law as a whole, if more just than it was,
is mnch more intricate, and does not appear to rest on any intel-
ligible piineiple. The Scottish courts were in a way to develop a
more rational doctrine, but the House of Lords, instead of adopting
it, forced the law of Scotland into conformity with judgments
which were still of only recent authority in England. The subject,
however, has given trouble everywhere, and legislative experiments
have been tried in many Continental countries. See Parliamentary
Fapirs, Commcrcinl, No. 21, 188ti. ' ,
Liicrat'ire. —Thvrc aic seiciitl modci-n Enijlisti nnd American lexl-bonks on
Iho law ol toils ■ — C G. Atldison. ircoiii?' arid tlteir Kemfdif^, being a Trcnttae Qn
M* iawo<7'i>/-(5,ethe<t.. by Horace Smilli. Lon.l'.n, 16ft7. U. 8vo: M. .^I liicel-w
LeoJirtg Ca^rs on ll,e iaic of Torts, Boston, .^Iass.. 187,1, la. 8vo: Id . t'leinnils of
the Lfi\c of Torii, '^ cti.. Posion, Mass.. 18SG, sm. 8vo; C Collctt. Mmtunl of the
LaxD of To'is Olid of iUe Measure ot Daiimoet, 6th cd . Madias, 1S86. 8t-q, t M.
Coolcy. A Tiralisf on (Ac Low of toils. Chicat-o, ISSO. Svo ; S Hastings. A Tien-
tin on Tons, London. 1S.S5. In, Svo; F. HiUiard. 7*/"' L^m of Torts or Prunti:
Wrongs, 4tli ett. Boston. Mass., I8i-». Li 8vo. 2 i ols ; F. T PiCE'itt. Principles o/
the Law 0/ Torts. London, 1S&.5, 8\o . F. Pollock. The Late of Torts, London, 18.S7.
five; A. UndciluM. A^^onnnari/ of tl*g Lam of Torts, 3d cd . London. ISSl. Svo
Tlicrc are also Wittt-knon-n woiks ..f a widL-r scope which touch on many puiis of
the subject, such as that ol' .^ll^yne on tlamaces: nnd inonoi;pAf,hs on special
parts, sucli as Itiose on Neqhgencc by Campbell, Homce- Smiili, Sheaiman and
Kedfleld. aDd Wharton, and Ihos*: onLlfecI and Slii.->dgi Ijv staikic (recent, ed. by
Folkard) and Blake Odgei-s. 'CUe Covtmrncnt of India ha> f jkcn steps to odify
the law of chil wroOKS (Whitley StoRte^^y/ie Anglo-tiuliaii Codes), llie RCneral
Instil ntlonal books (BlacksUmcand K^: end -the la'.ci' adaptations of Blackstone
In Enclandlare of little use. na In slmosl ev-eiy tasncli the law has been largely
developed tJid inodUled by ttie decL-ions of the last fifty ycais. (F PO )
TORTOISE. • Of the tbree Dames generally used for
this order of reptiles, viz., Tortoise, Turtle, and Terrapin,
the first is derived from the old French word l')rtis, ie.,
twisted, and was probably applied first to the common
Eur.>pean species on account of its curiously bent fore-
legs. Turtle is believed to be a corruidioii of tlio same
word, but the origin of the name terrapin is unlmown :'
since the time of tlio navigators of the IGtlScentury it he).'?
been in general u.sc for freshwater species of the tropics,
and especially for those of the New World. The name
tortoise is now generally applied to the terrestrial members
of this group of aniinal.s, and that of turtle to these which
live in the sea or pass a great part of their existence in
fresh water.
Tortoises and turtles constitute one of the orders of|
Reptiles, the Chetonut. They are characterized by having
the trunk of the body incased in a more or less ossified
carapace, which consists of a dorsal more or less convex
portion, and of a flat ventral one, the so-called plastron. |
Thci.e portions are generally more or less firnily united on
the side, but leave a wide opening in front through which
the head and neck and the fore-limbs protrude, and one
liehiiid for the tail and liindlimb.s. The dorsal carapace
is (with the exception of Sphitriji.-<) formed by the dorsal
verlebr;e, by the ribs which are so much expanded as to
form sutures with each other, and by a number of lateral|
dermal ossifications (marginals). The plastron consists of
from eight to eleven niorfor loss dilated dermal bones, the
sternal elements of high^ Verlebriita being absent. This
osseous case or shell receives in its interior the organs ot
the chest and abdomen, the humeral and pelvic bones, and
the muscles "ftr the humerus and femur. In many species,
especially those of the family 7'eslitiHiiithv,, or tortoises
proper, the neck and head and the limbs can be withdrawn
within the shell, the cervical and the proximal caudal
vertebra; retaining their mobility. In the majority of
Cheloniaus the osseou,s shell is covered with a hard epider-
moid coat, which is divided into large symmetrical plates
(commonly called " tortoise-shell " in those species from
which the article of commerce is obtained), which can be
detached from the underlying bones. These epidermoid
plates do not corresiiond 'in an'angement or extent with
the bones of the carapace ; they vary considerably in form,
and are therefore generally noticed in the descriptions of
species. Their arrangement and terminology may Ix:
learned from fhe accompanying illustrations (figs. 1, 2).
The integnments of the head, neck, tail, and limbs are
either soft and smooth or tubercular or scaly, the tubercles
and scales having frei^uently an csseous nucleus.
Other parts also of the skeleton show icmarkable pecu-
liarities, so that the sometimes very fragmentary remains
of Chelunians can ahnost„always be recognized as such.
All the bones of the «kuB are suturally united, with the
exception of the mandible and hyoid bone ; the dentary
portion of the rriandible consists of one bone only. The
pectoral arch is composed of the scapula, with which the
precoracoid is united, and the coracoid. Clavicles (epi-,
plastra) are represented by the anterior elements of the)
plastron. Two pairs of limbs are invariably present.
All Chelonians possess a tail, which is generally short,
but sometimes elongate, and always provided with strong
muscles at the base. No Chelonian jiossesses teeth ; but
their jaws are provided with horny sheaths, with hard and
sharp edges, forming a beak like that of a parrot. ,
The number of Chelonians known at present may be
estimated at about 2'20, the freshwater species being far
the most numerous, and abundant in well-watered districts
of the tropical and subtropical zones. Their number and
variety decrease beyond the tropics, and in the north they
disappear entirely about the 50th parallel in the western
and about the 56th in the eastern hemisphere, whilst in
the southern hemisphere the terrestrial forms seem ta
advance to 30° S. lat. only. The marine turtles, which
are spread over the whole of tlie equatorial and subtropical'
seas, sometimes stray beyond those limit? As in othe*
456
TORTOISE
frdeVs of Repti^es, tlie most specialized and the largest
forms are restricted to the tropics (with the exception of
Afacric/fmmys) ,' but, unlike lizards or snakes, Chelonians
Fij. I.'
(^
J>yp
h\/rt
•
^
Ti
\
/ a,t
'P
■J '
)
n.h \
\
\ f^ .
^
KIc .'.
f ics \. 1 — Sliell (if Teitiido pnrdc'is to show tne divisions of tlie infepiiment,
Mhlrh nre marked by entile lines, nnd of tlie OHseniis carapncc. tliese ijeinu
'mnrlted by dotted iiiics. Fig I Iluper or dorsal aspect Fig. 2. Lo>*er oi
, vent ml Aspect-
Dct-mnl Scutes :—ro, coslnls; r, vertebi-nls; m, miii^nals; 9. giilors; pg. post.
fiilmSi p, pectoi'His. ab. ubdnmiiials, pa, pifennuls; an. niiuts *'
Bones of tlie Carapace;— ro'. costals. «(?, neuials; nu, naclial. pj/. Pyffa' ; '"'.
marpluals; rnl. i.ntoptdslion . fp, eplplastron; titfo, liyoplaatron ; Ityp, Iiypo-
plastron; j-j/p, xypliiplastfoii '
«re unable to exist in sterile districts or at great altitudes.'
Chelooians are strictly animals of plains, or at least of low
country.
Chelonians show a great divergence in their mode of
life, — some living constantly on land, others. having partly
terrestrial partly aquatic .habits, others again rarely leav-
ing the water or the sea The first'mentioned, the land
tortoises pro|icr, have short club-shaped feet with bhint
claws, and a very convex, heavy, completely ossified shell
In the freshwater forms the .jciints of the limb bones are
much more mobile, the digits distinct, armed with sharp
claws, and united by a membrane or web ; their shell is
less convex, and is flattened, and more or less extensive
areas may remain cartilaginous to lessen its specific gravity
As a rule, the degree of development of the interdigital
web nnd of convexity of the shell indicates the prevalence
of aquatic or terrestrial habits of a species of terrapin.
Finally, the marine turtles have paddle-shaped limbs .re-
sembling those of Cetaceans.*
Land tortoises are sufficiently jirotcrted by 'their cara !
pace, and therefore have no need of any special modi
fication of structure by means of which their ajijiearance
would be assimilated to the surroundings, and thus give
tbem additional security from their cnemiea. These, how-
ever, are bat few in cumber : the large cats of South
America .ire said to be able to tear them out of the shell
with their claws ; and the ancient tale of /Eschylus having
been killed by a tortoise carried aloft by t,n eagle and
dropped on the head of the unfortunate ])oet seems tQ be
founded on the fact that tortoises are a favourite- prey
of the Liimmerseyer (Oyjxifhts), which lias the habit of
dropping them from a height on rocks in order to brea)<
the shell. On the other band, among the camivorou*
terrapins and freshwater fitrtles instances of protectivo
resemblance are not scarce, and may even attain to ft-high
degree of specialization, a'i in Chely^ ; their shells offer
them less protection, and their enemies (crocodile.s and
alligators) are more numerous ; they also require thii
special provision to enable them to approach or seize thejr
prey with greater ea.se The colours of land tortoises are
generally plain or in simple patterns, whilst those of manj
terrapins are singularly varied, bright, and beautiful.
Chelonians are diurnal animals ; only a few are active
during the night, habitually or on special occasions, as,
for instance, during oviposition. Land tortoises are hIow
in all their movements, but all kinds living in wa^ei^ can
execute extremely rapid motion.s, either to seize their prey
or to escape from danger All Chelonians are stationary,
residing throughout the year in the same locality, with the
exception of the marine turtle.s, which periodically migrate
to their breeding stations Species inhabiting temperate
regions hibernate
' Chelonians possess great tenacity of life, surviving
injuries to which other Keptiles would .succumb in a .short
time. The heart- of a decapitated tortoise continues to
beat for many hours after every drop of blood has been
drained from the body, and the musoles of the trunk and
head show signs of reflex action twenty four hours after
the severance of the spinal cord, i The longevity of tor
toi.ses is likewise a well-known fact, to which reference will
again be made. ^ "^
Land tortoises, a few terrapins, and some of the marinfl
turtles are herbivorou.s the others carnivorous, their prey
consisting diicfly of Hsh, frogs, and other small aquatic
animals. ■ ,
• All Chelonians are oviparous, and the e£rgs are generally,
covered with a hard .shell.
In the system' proposed by Dumi^ril and Bibron, and
afterwards modified by Gray and Strauch, the Chelonians
are arranged according to their mode of life, and divided
into terrestrial, paludine, fluviatile, and marine forms.
However natural such an arrangement may appear at first,
a more careful examination proves it to be (as all arrange,
ments ba.sed solely upon the mode of life) at variance with
the structural affinities, whether the recent forms alone be
considered or the fossil as well. The divi.sion of the bulk
of the order into Cri/plndirn and J'/eumr/irn, as suggested
by Agassiz, Cope, and Kutimeyer, was a decided progress,'
as IS also the elimination of the suborders Alheca and
ynowyc/io/t/fa recently pro[iosed by Cope and Baur.. ..
: 1' The order of Chelonians may then be divided into^the
following suborders and families ; ' — _
^_,,... SunoRDF.R I ATHEC/E
Vertehraeand ribs free, separati'il from a bony.esoskeleton.
V Limb.s padille-shnpcd, (lawless; plialanni/s without condyle«.|
Pl.Lslron rcduceil to an annular series of ciglil email bones. E!xOt|
skeliaon consisting ot nunisrous .small bony plates arranged lik«^
mosaic. ' Pelagic
Genus : ^c iiuilocliffi/i (Spliaroik). '
Fussll eeniia ftrplwplwrnt (Pliocene). Prolosphargis (Cretaceous). Proloslrga
(Cietaceoils). fi.rphodenno'* (Tiiasalc)
.' ' The more important worlis nn this order of Reptiles have been-
ennnicrateil in tlie article Rkptilks. vol. xx. p. 440
" Only the .noro imporlanlAnd best knowi) of the extinct genen
are admitted into this synopsis.
TORTOISE
457
Suborder 11. TESTUDINATA.
Dorsal vertcbnc and ribs immovaMy united and expanded into
bonv piatoi fornirn.!:; a cnrapacc, which is boideifd by a complete
series of niarj^in;il bones. Epiplastia (clavicles) in contact with
hyoplastia; entoplastron (interclavicle), if present, oval, rhoni-
boidal, or T shaped. Sacral and caudal ribs articulating "ith the
centrum and the neural arch. Digits with not more than three
tphalanges.
SEr.iE.'? A CRYPTODIRA.
Neck retractile by a sigmoid curve in a vertical plane. Pelvis
not anchylosed to the carapace and plastron. Karely one or two
epidermic scutes (intergular) in addition to the normal six pairs.
Gkoup a. Digitata
Digits short or moderately elongate; phalanges with condyles.
claws four or five. Neck completely retractile.
Family 1. Testudikid^.
FlastraJ bones nine Nuchal bone without costiform processes
Carapace with epidermic scutes. Caudal vertebne proccelous.
Tropical and temperate zones, with the exception of Australia.
Itcct'til (rencra: Dtrmatemys, Jinlarjur, Oemmi/x, Pnng&hufa, Geoemffda, Cj/ele-
titf/i. E'lij/s. CislUflo. Afarniirtft. Tesluf/o, Ifoutopiis. O'nv-"*. Py-ris.
Fossil pcnera: EurystPinum (Jiuassic), Clntracephatus (Cietaceoiis), Adocus
(Cretaceous) Palivothtfys (Miocene), Ptychogaster (Miocene), CofouocAelys (Plio-
cene)
Family 2. Platysternid-e.
Plastral bones nine. Nuchal bone withmtt costifomi processes.
Carapace with epidermic scutes. Caudal vcrtobrco mostly opistho
coelous. Indian region
Genus p/atyilenwut
Family 3. BAEN'tn^.
Plastral bones eleven, mesoplastra being present. Nuchal bone
without costiform processes. Carapace with epidermic scutes.
Caudal vertebrse o pi st hoc felons;
Fossil genera- /•/a/j/cAd/ir* (Jutassic); Bti^/m (Eocene).
Family 4. Cheltdridje.
Plastral bones nine Nuchal bone with long costiform processes,
extending below the marginals. Carapace with epidernxic scutes.
Caudal vertebrrc mostly opisthoccelons. Northern and tropical
American regions.
Recent Rcncm: Chetyi/ra, Maerodemmya,
Fussil genus ■ 7''"f/(?.«V)««'ji (Creiaceous).
Family 5. Staitrotypid« (Buulengcr)
Plastral bones nine; Nuchal bone with short costiform pro-
cesses, extehdinjj below the maTginals. Carapace with epidermic
scutes. Caudal vcrtebrre procoelans. Central-American district.
Genei'o Statnotypus. Claudius.
Family 6 CixosterkiD/E.
Plastral bones eight, the entoplastron being absent. Nuchal
bone with short costiform processes, extending below the marginals
Carapace with epLdermic scutes. Caudal vertcbrce procoelous
Northern and tropical American regions.
Genera' Aromnchely*. Cinosteiuum.
Family 7. PsEUDOTiiiONVCHrD* (Boulenger).
Shell without epidermic scutes.
Fossil geneui Pteudotrtovyx and AnotUra (Eoreno).
Groui' B. Pinnata.
Limbs paddle-shsped ; phalanges without condyles; claws one
or two Neck imperfectly retractile; cervical vertebrte short,
mostly articulated by amphiarlhrosis.
Family 8. Chflonid.€.
Plastral bones nine. Nuchal without costiform processes.
Carapace with epidermic scutes. Hyo- and hypopiastra not meet-
ing mesially Pelagic
Jicccnt cenei-n . Cheloue, Cnnuana, Cnrflta.
Fossil genus ■ Piipfigeiiis (Miocene and Eoceee)
Sekics B PLEURODIRA
Neck not ictractilo, bending laterally. Pelvis anchyloscd to the
carapace and plastron. When epidermic scutes are present, one or
two intcigulars in addition to the normal pla.stral scutes.
Family 1. CHELVDiDiB.
Plastral bones nine. Carapace with epidermic .swtes Limbs
with four or five claws. Australian and tropica! American
regions.
Itecent jrcnera- Pfatemys, Cherymys, E/seya, Chelodxnn. I/i/draspis. Hydro
medusn, Chelys.
Fossil gcnei.i: Plesioc/ie/ys (Jiirassir), Craspcdochehjs (Jurassic), tdiochely^
(Jurassic). .Volomorpfia (Eocene)
Family 2. Pelomedusid^.
Plastral bones eleven, mesoplastra being present Carapace
with epidermic scutes. Limbs with four or five claws. African
and tropical American regions.
Recent genera- Peloiiicdiisa, Siernoth.i-ruSt Dumerifia. Podoctiemis, Peltf-
rrphalus.
Fossil genera; Plcurosicnivm (Cretaceous, Eocene). Botfircrnys (C'etaceoos),
Taphroiphys (Crctaceousl.
Family^ Caijettochelydidal
Plastral bones nine. No epidermic scutes on the shell. Limb*
paddle-shaped, with only two claws. New Guinea.
Genus: Careftofhelyi.
Family 4. MiOLANiiDfi (Boulenger).
Caudal vertebne opisthocoelous ; tail long and encased in a bony
sheath. Australia.
Fossil genus . Uiolania (Pleislocene).
Suborder III. TRIONYCHOIDEA.
Dorsal vertebra; and ribs immovably united, forming a carapace ^
no pygal plate; marginal plates absent or forming an inconiplcttf
serits. Plastron formed of nine bones, cpiplastra seiarated fron>
the hyoplastra by the entoplastron, which is ^-shaped, without
longitudinal process. Sacral and caudal ribs attached to transverst
processes .of the neiiral arch Fourth digit with four o>* fiv(»
phalanges.
Family 1. TriontchiujE.
No epidernnc scutes. ' Limbs with three claws, Indian, African,
ajid American regions.
Genera ; Cfiitra, lieptailittm^ Trianiis, CiiclaiwsUfts, Emyda.
We add a few notes on such of the genera enumerated
in this synopsis as have some special interest, attached to
them, either from a scientific or an economic point of view.
The family Sphargidvs is represented in the recent fauna by a
single species, Dermatockchjs or Sphargis coriacca, the Leathery
Turtle, the range of which extends over the tropical and subtropical
seas of both hemispheres, and wiiich occasionally strays into the
northern parts of the Atlantic, its occurrcnoe on the British coast
having been recorded three or four times within the last century.
It differs from all other Chelonians by its carapace being formed
by ossi6cations of the skin only Neither the vertebne nor the
ribs enter into its formation; the hitter remain free, and are not
particularly dilated. During the life of the animal tlie carapaoe is
liexiblc like thick leather, the bony deposits being arranged like
mosaic, with several longitudinal ridges of larger osseous tubercles.
The limbs are, as in other marine turtles, paddle, or tin shaped, the
anterior much longer than the posterior, and all destitute of claws.
This turtle is probably the laigest living Chelonian, exceeding 6
feet in length. The names Testudo lyia, Sphargis viercurialis, kc,
have reference to the myth that the shell of this or some other
turtle was used by Mercury in his construction of the lyre.
The family Testwiinidm is composed of aji unbroken series, from
thoroughly aquatic freshwater tortoises Hke- Dc-nnatcmys and
BaUirjnr to the tortoises which live exclusively on land and are
jierfectly helpless in water. In the Central. American genus Dcr
ivatrmys the digits are very broadly webbed, the epidermic scutes ar©
thin, and the nose is much produced, — characters which, together
with the strong depression of the shell, give these terrapins some,
what the aspect of the freshwater turtles or TrionydticUe. They
feed exclusively upon leaves, grass, and especially fruit, and are
eaten by the natives. Of the freshwater tortoises of Ihe Old World
the most thoroughly aquatic are'the Batagurs, which inhabit the
East Indies, add attain to a length of 2 feet. Like their American
representative, DcnnaUviys^ they are essentially herbivorous, and
their flesh is eaten. The geuus Clcminys is extremely abundant in
species, most of which are of small size, and elegantly ornamented
with symmetrical markings of bright colour. The majority of the
species occur in North America and Mexico, and are of amphibious
habits. Only one species, C. kprvsa, inhabits southern Europe.
A second European species belongs to the genus Bmy.'i, E. orbi-
cularis, which, towards the end of the Quaternary period appears
to have been distributed over a great part of northern Europe,
remains having been found in peat in England, Belgium, Denmark,
and Sweden. Its habitat is now restricted to southern Europe,
south. western Asia, and north-western Africa; but singularly it
has survived in a few isolated northern stations, for instance, ia
the neighbourhood of Berlin and Kdnigsbeig, although it is there
on the verge of extinction. The mobility of the lobes of the
plastron, which- distinguishes Emys from Clcmmys, is carried a
degree further in the North. American genus Cistudo, the Box
Tortoise; this terrapin possesses a hinge in the plastron, rendering
its anterior and posterior portions movable, and converting them
into lids by which the openings of the shell can be completely
closed when the head and limbs are retracted. A similar protective
apparatus exists in the tortoises of the genus Cinoslenivm. In the
African terrestrial genus Cinyxis it is the posterior portion of the
carapace that is movable, and separated from the anterior by a
hinge. True land tortoises, Tcshido, occur in Africa, southern
Europe, southern Asia, South America, and the southern parts of
North America. Those best known in Europe are Tcstudo rfrsxa
and the Moorish Tortoise, Tcstudo mauritanica, large numbers of
which are imported into the United Kingdom, chiefly from Morocco.
But the most interesting are the gigantic tortoises which formerly
inhabited in extreme abundance the Mascarene and GalapaOTS
Islands,, and are now on the verge of extinction, or have actually
XXIIL— s8
458
TORTOISE
become cxtiuct. At the time of tlieir discovery those islands were
tininhabitcd by man or any large mamiDal ; the tortoises, therefore,
Alligator Terrapin (Chtlt/dra serpentina).
<«HJoyed perfect security; and this, as well as their extraordinary
degree of longevity, accounts for their enorTnous size and their large
numbers. They could be captured, in any quantity with the greatest
ease within a few days, and proved to the ships' companies who
■during their long voyages had to subsist mainly on salt provisions
« most welcome addition to their table. They could be carried in
870 lb, and, althongn Known to have been more than eighty years^
old, was still growing at the time of its death.- -There is no evidence
to show that any of these tortoises were-
indigenous in the Seychelles ; the speci-
mens kept there in a semi -domesticated
state havel>ecn either directly imported
from AJdabra or are tlie descendsints of
irCi ported indi^'iduais.
The family of -Chdydridse includes
freshwater tortoises, which are known
under the names of Suap)>ers or Alli-
gator Terrapius (fig. 3), on account of
their ferocity and long s;ompressed
crested taiL They are now confined
to North. America east of the Rocky
Mountains, Centj-al America, and north-
west South Ameiica, but remains of two
species of Clichjdra, closely related to
their recent representative, have been,
found in the Oligocene and Mioccna
of central Europe. A second genus, closely allied to Chelydra^
Macroclcmmys tcinmindcii^ the shell of which attains to a length of
3 feet, and which is the largest known freshwater Chelonian, is
restricted to the river-systems tributary to the Gulf of Mexico-
The family of Cinostcrnidie contains a rather large number^f
small-sized species, distributed from the northern parts of the
United States to the northern parts of Brazil. They are of
amphibious habits. The front and hind lobes of the plastron are
movable, and in certain species of Cinostenunih the animal can
completely shut itself op in its shell.
The Chelonidm, or marine turtles, contain but few species, which
are referred to three genera, — Caoiuina^ Ckclonc, amd CarcUa.
Their limbs are wholly modified into paddles, by means of which
they can propel themselves with extraordinary rapidity through
the water, but which are entirely unfit for locomotion on land,
where the progress of these animals is as awkward as that of a
seal. The toes are enclosed in a common sldn, out of which only
one or two claws project. The carapncc is broad and much de-
pressed, so that when the turtles are surprised on shore and turned
Jig 4 Loggerhead {Caonana carctia)
the hold of a ship, without food, for months, and were slaughtered
as occasion required, each tortoise yielding, according to size, from
80 to 300 pounds of excellent and wholesome meat.. Under theSe
circumstances the numbers of these helpless creatures decreased so
rapidly that in the beginning of this century their extermination
was accomplished in the Mascarencs, and )iow only a few remain
in a wild state in Aldabra and in some of the "islands of the Gala-
pagoS group. Singularly, the majonty of these islands were in-
habited each by one or more peculiar forms, specifically distinct
Fig. 5.— Green Turtle {Chdonia vinJu
Sroto those of the other islands. A large male sj>ecimen , from
Aldabfa, which was imported into Loudon sotuc years ago, weighed
I iG. G.— Mawksbill Tunle (Carcffa tnibnca(a).
over on their back, they cannot regain their natural position.
Their capture forms a regular pursuit wherever they occur in any
numbers. Comparatively few are caught in the open sea, others
in stake nets, but the majority are intercepted at well-knowii
periods and localities where they t^o ashore to deposit their eggs.
These are very numerons, from 100 to 250 being produced by ont
female, and buried by her iu the sand; they are eagerly searched
for and eaten. Some of the marine turtles are highly esteemed
for the delicacy of their meat and of the gelatinous skinny parts of
their neck and fins; others yield oil, and others again the tortoise-
shell of commerce. Probably the largest of these marine turtles is
the Loggerhead {Caouajui), which possesses fifteen vertebral and
costal_^!aelds, and occui's iu the Atlantic as well as in the Indian
TORTOISE
Ocean (Sg. 4). It is carnivorous, feeding on fish, mollascs, and
•crustaceans, and not esteemed as food, althoagh it is eaten by the
jutive fi-ibemien. A great part of the turtle-oil which finds its
Fw. 7.— The MalamatA iChetps Jimbriata), with side view of head, and
" eeparate view of plastron.
'way into the market is obtained fiWn t^e Atlantic species of this
^Dus; also tortoiseshell of an inferior quality is obtained from it.
The Green Turtle (fig. 5). « are herbivorous, feeding
which yields the mate- ^k „„ ^^j^^ ^; „^, 5
nab for the celebrated jHA they occur in the Indo-
soup. _b«I.ongs to the ^^^ PacificandAtlantic; and,
although several species
have been distinguished,
f;eau9 ChtUmia ; it is dis-
tinguished from Caouana
by having thirteen ver-
tabnl and costal shields
•polj, which are not im-
bricate.. These animals
they all may possibly be
referable to one only.
The turtle imported into
Europe comes chiefly
*ia. 8.— Cpper View of the Turtle of the Enphratcs (rciotiyr niphratiea): ,
from thvWest Indies. Instances are recorded of the flesh of this
s^cie»h«\ingacquired poisonous qualities. The Hawksbill Turtle,
•CdTtUa ( fig. «), 80 named from its rather elongate and compressed
curved upper jaw, docs not reach tl:
and is readily recognized by the
carapace. It seems to he more abu
Atlantic Ocean, but is
plentiful ouly in certain
localities. As, however,
these turtles always re-'
sort to the locality where'
they were born, or where
they have been wont to
propagate their kind, and
as their capture is very
profitable, they become
,459
le same size as the other turtles,'
thirteen imbricate scutes of its
ndant in the Indian thau in the
scarcer and scarcer at
places where they are
known to have been
abundant formerly. If
the plates of tortoise-
shell are detached froni
the animal when decom.
position has set in, their
colour becomes clouded
and milky, and hence
Fio. 9.— Lower View of Trumyj: evphratiea,
the cruel expedient is resorted to of suspending the turtle over Are
till heat makesHhe shields start from the bony part of the cara-
pace, after which the creature is permitted to escape to the water.
There is no doubt that turtles thus allowed to escape to the water
after such an operation may survive ; but it is very improbable that
the epidermal shields are ever sufiiciently regenerated to be fit for
use. At Celebes, whence the finest tortoiseshell is exported to
China, thc'nativeskill the turtle by blows on the head, and immei'se
the shell in boiling water to 4etach the plates; dry heat is only
resorted to by the unskilful. The natives eat the flesh of thia
turtle, but it is unpalatable to Europeans; the eggs, however, are
regarded as equal to those of the other turtles.
Of the family Chclydidx the most remarkable type is the
Matamata, Chelys fimbriata, a native of the Guianas anil northern
Brazil (fig. 7). In its strongly depressed and flat head, long tube-
like snout, weak jaws, minute eyes, skinny tentacles, it bears a
striking similarity to the Surinam toad, Pijia americanci, which
inhabits the same countries. The neck is very broad and depressed,
and /ringed with foliated tentacles, floating in the water like some
vegetable growth, whilst the rough bossed carapace resembles a
stone, — an appearance which evidently is of as grtut use to this
creature in escaping the observation of its enemies as in alluring to
it unsuspicious animals on which it feeds.
> The family of CarcUochelydidx contains a single genus, CareUo-
chclys, quite recently discovered in the Fly river. New Guinea, audi
exhibiting a remarkable combiuation of characters. Its limbs ar«
formed very much like those of the marine turtles, whilst the
shell lacks epidermic scutes, as in the Trionychidss,
III the freshwater turtles, or Trionyckidse (iigs. 8 and S), the cara-
pace is icduced to a flat disk, which is covered with soft skin. The
neck and limbs can be lodged under the broad skinny borders of
the carapace ; also the plastron is very imperfectly ossified, and some-
times dilated into laige flexible lobes which may cover the limbs.
The latter are much flattened and broadly webbed, and only the
three inner toes armed with claws. The jaws are concealed under
broad, fleshy lips, the nose projecting like a short proboscis. These
turtles are carnivorous, and very ferocious; when they want to bile
or seize their prey they project their neck and head with lightning
rapidity. They are well known on the upper Nile, Euphrates,
Ganges, Yangtsekiaiig, an8 Mississippi, and, indeed, distributed
over all the large fresh waters of the geographical regions to which
460
T 0 R — T 0 R
these nv IS belong. Somt of the species exceed a length of 3 lect.
IntheUi ited States v]iete-t-Kosyecie&,Tn(myxmulu:us^iidTrianyx
feroZy oiiiir the tteshof the latter is said to ha most delicate to eat,
far'sur}/, ing io flaronr that of the green turtle. (A. C. G )
TOR O'SESHELL The tortoisestell of commerce
consists- of the epidermic plates of the Lawksbill turtle,
Caretta imWicata. The plates of the back or carapace,
techniciUy called the head, are 13 in aumber, 5 occupying
the centre, flanked by 4 oil each side. These overlap each
other to the" extent of one-third of their whole size, and
hence they attain a large size, reaching in the largest to .8
inches by 13 inches, and. weighing as much as 9 ounces.
The carapace has also 24 marginal pieces, called hoofs or
claws, forming a serrated edge round it ; but these, with
the plates of the plastron, or belly, are of inferior value.
The plates of tortoiseshell consist of horny .matter, but
they are harder, more brittle, and less fibrous than ordinary
horn. Their value depends on the rich mottled colours
they display — a warm translucent yellow, dashed, and
spotted ivith rich brown tints — and on the high polish
they take and retain. The finest tortoiseshell is obtained
from the Eastern Archipelago, particularly from the east
ccast of Celebes to New Guinea ; but the creature is found
and tortoiseshell obtained from all tropical coasts, large
supplies coming from the West Indian Islands and Brazil.
, Tortoiseshell is worked precisely as Iiorn; but, owing to the
high value of the material, care is taken to prevent any waste in
its working. The plates, as separated by heat from the bony
skeleton, are keeled, curved, and irregular in form. They are first
flattened by heat and pressure, and superficial inequalities are
rasped away. Being harder and more brittle than horn, tortoise-
shell requires cireful treatment in moulding it into any form, and
Si "high heat tends to darken and obscure the material it is treated
atas low a heat as practicable. For many purp9ses.it is necessary
to increase 'the thickness or to add to the superficial size of tortoise-
shell, and^this is readily done by careful cleaning and rasping of
the surfaces to be luiited, softening the plates in boiling water or
sometimes by dry heat, and then pressing them tightly together
by means of heated pincers or a vice. The licit softens and
liquefies a superficial film of the horny material, and that with the
pressure effects a perfect union of the surfaces brought together.
Heat and pressure are also employed to mould thesubstance into
bo.xes and the numerous artificial forms into which it is made up.
Tortoiseshell has been a prized ornamental .material from very
early times. It was one of the highly esteemed treasures of the
far East brought to ancient Rome by way of Egypt, and it was
eagerly sought by wealthy. Romans as a veneer for their rich
furniture, in modern times it is most characteristically used in
the elaborate inlaying o.f cabinet work known as buhl furniture.
It |s also employed as a veneer for sriiall bo.xes and frames. It is
cut- into combs, moulded into snuffboxes and other small boxes,
formed into knife-handles, and worked up into many other similar
minor articles. The plates from certain other tortoises, known
commercially as turtle-shell, possess a certain industrial value, but
they are either opaque or soft and leathery, and cannot be mis-
taken for tortoiseshell. A close "imitation of tortoiseshell can be
made by staining- translucent horn. See Comb, voh vi. p. 178.
TORTOL.A.. See Virgi.v Islands.
TORTONA, a town -*( Italy, in the province of Ales-
sandria, on the right bank of the Scrivia, at the northern
foot of the Apennines, 13 miles to the east of Alessandria,
was formerly a place of strength until its fortifications
were destroyed by the French after Marengo (1799); the
ramparts are now turned into^shady promenades. The
cathedral, erected by Philip II., is architecturally uninter-
esting, but contains a remarkably fine Roman sarcophagus.
Silk-weaving, tanning, and hat-making are the chief indus-
tries ; and there is some trade in wine and grain. The
population in 1881 was 9023(commune 14,442).
, Dtrtona is spoken of by Strabo as one of the most important
towns of Lignria, and is alluded to by Pliny as a Roman colony.
In the Middle Ages it w^ zealously attached to the Guclphic
cause, on wliicli account it was twice ■ laid waste by .Frederick
Barbarossa (in 1155 and 1163).
TORTOSA, a fortified city of Spain, in the provincaiof
Tarragona, and 40 miles. b}- rail to the south-west of that
tdiira, is picturesquely situated on the left bank of the
Ebro (here crossed by -a bridge of boats), 22 mile» abo7e>
its moutt. It is for the. most part an old walled town
with narro^v, crooked, ftnd ill-paved streets ; the lowsea
are lofty, and massively built of granite. . The slope oa
which it stands is crowned with an old ruined castle, com
manding a splendid "view. The cathedral is a conspicuous-
building near the river ; it occupies the site oC a mosque
built in 914 by 'Abd alBahmin ; the present structure,
whi6h dates from 1347, has its Gothic character disguised
by a classical facade with Ionic pillars and. much tasteless
modernization. The stalls in the choir, carved by Cristo-
bal de Salamanca in. 1588-93, and the sculpture of thd
pulpits, as well as the ironwork of the choir-raijing and
some of the precious marbles with which the chapels are
adorned, deserve notice. None of the other public build-
ings, which include an episcopal palat*, a lown-hali, and
numerous churches, xequire special Mention. The manu-
factures of Tortosa include paper, h jts, leather, porcelain,
majolica, soap, and spirits. There is an important fishery
in the river, and an active trade is carried on through th*
harbour, which is accessible to vessels of 100 tons burden,
corn, vine, oil, wool, silk, fruits, and liquorice (a specialty
of the district) being among the leading articles of export.
Near . Tortosa are rich quarries of marble and alabaster,
and the whole surrounding country is very fertile and
beautiful. The population within the municipal boundaries
in 1878 was 24,057.
Tortosa, the JDcrtosa of Strabo and the Volonia Julia Augusta
DcTtosa of numerous coins, was a city of the Ilercaones in Hispania.
Tarraconensis. Under tlie Moors it became a place of great import-
ance as the key of the Ebro valley. It was taken by Louis the
Pious in 811 (after an unsuccessful siege two years before), but was
soon recapturtd. Having become a haunt of pirates, and exceed-
ingly injurious to Italian commerce, it was made the object of a.
crusade proclaimed by Pope Eugenius III. in 1148, and was accord,
ingly captuied by Raymond herengar, assisted by Templais, Pisans,
and Genoese. Tortosa fell into the hands of the duke of Orleans
in^l703, and was again surrendered in the War of Independence iul.
1811 to the French undcr-Suchet, who heldJt till 1814.
'- 'TORTURE. It is proposed to treat in. this place not
si) biuch the innumerable modes of inflicting pain which
■ha;}e been from time to time devised by the perv'erted.
ingenuity of man as the subject of legal torture as it
existed in 'the civilized nations of antiquity and of modern
Europe, that-is to say, torture inflicted with more or less
appearance of legality by a responsible executive or judi-
cial authority. From this point of view torture was
always inflicted for one of two purposes — (1) as a means of
eliciting evidence from a witness or from an accused person
either before- or after condemnation, (2) as a part of the
punishment. Torture, as a part of the punishment, may be
regarded as including every kind of bodily or mental pain
beyond what is necessary for the safe custody of the
offender (with or without enforced labour) or the destruc-
tion of his life, — in the language of Bentham, an afflictive as
opposed to a simple punishment. Thus the unnecessary
sufferings endured in English prisons before the reforms
of Howard (see Howard and Prison Discipline) and the
drawing and quartering in the old executions for treason
fall without any straining of terms under the category of
torture. The whole subject is now one of only historical
interest as far as Europe is concerned. It was, however,
up to a comparatively recent date an integral part qt
the law of most countries (to which England, Aragon,
and Sweden' formed honourable exceptions), as much a
commonplace of law as trial by jury in England. One
reason for its long continuance was no doubt the view-
taken in an age of judicial perjury- that truth was only to-
be attained by Violent means, if not by torture then by
ordeal or trial by baAle. Speaking generally, tortnre may
^ Bot even in these coiOtriea, whatever'the law was, torture cerfciualy-
ex^ted in fact. 'lam. iliddie Aoa. vol. L jj. 282_
TORTURE
461
be said to have succeeded the ordeal and trial by battle
(comoart Ordeal). /O'here these are found in full vigour,
as in the capitularies of Charlemagne, there is no provision
for torture. It was no doubt accepted reluctantly, but
tolerated in <he absence of any better m«ans of eliciting
Vuth, especially in cases of great gravity, on the illogical
assumption that extraordinary offences must be met by
extraordinary remedies.
- The opinions of the best authorities have been in theory
almost unanimously against the use of torture, even in a
system where it was as completely established as it was in
Roman law " Torment*," says Cicero,' in words which it
is almest impossible to translate satisfactorily, " gubernaf
dolor, regit qussitor, flcctit libido, corrumpit spes, infirmat
metus, ut in tot rerum angustiis nihil veritati loci reUnqua-
tur."i Seneca sa/s bitterly, " it forces even the innocent to
lie."x St Augustine- recognizes the fallacy of torture. "If,"
says he, " the accused be innocent, he will undergo for an
uncertain crime a certain [mnisbment, and that not for
having committed a crime, but because it is unknown
whether he committed it." At the same time he regards it
as excused by its necessity. The words of Ulpian, in the
2>t^fs( of Justinian,' are no lesi impressive. "The torture
(qussiio) is not to bo regarded as wholly deserving or
wholly undeserving of confidence ; indeed, it is untrust-
worthy, perilous, and deceptive. For most men, by patience
or the severity of the torture, come so to despise the torture
that the truth caunot be elicited from them ; others are so
impatient that they will lie in any direction rather than
suffer the torture ; so it happens that they depose to con-
tradictions and accuse! not only themselves but others."
Montaigne's'' view of torture as a part of fhe punishment
is a most just one:— '•"All that exceeds a simple death-
appears to me absolute cruelty ; neither can our justice
expect that he whom the fear of being execute by being
beheaded or hanged will not restrain should be any more
awed by the imagination of a languishing fire; burning
pincers, or the wheel." , Montesquieu^ speaks of torture in
s most guarded manner, condemning it, but without giving
reasons, and eulogizing England for doing without it. The
system was condemned by Bayle and Voltaire with less
reserve. Among the Italians, Betcaria," Verri," and Mao-
zoni' will be found to contain most that can be said on the
subject The influence of Beccaria in rendering the use
of torture obsolete was undoubtedly greater than that of
any other legal reformer. The great point that he makes
is the unfair incidence of torture, as persons' minds and
bodies differ in strength. Moreover, it is, says he, to con-
found all relations to expect that a man should be both
accuser and accused, and that pain should be the test of
truth, as though truth resided in the muscles and fibres
of a- wretch under torture. The result of the torture is
simply a matter of calculation.. . Given the force of the
muscles and the sensibility of the nerves of an innocent
person, it is required to find the degree of pain necessary
to make him confess himself guilty of a given crime.
Bentbara's' objection to torture is that the effect is exactly
the reverse of the intention. " Upon the face of it, and
probably enough in the intention of the framers, ihs object
of this institution was the protection of iimocence ; the
protection of guilt and the aggravation of the pressure
tipon innocence was the real fruit of it" The apologists
■of torture, even among jurists, are not numerous. In fact,
theoretical objections to it are often urged by the authors
of» books of practice, as by Damhouder, Von Rosbach, Von
■ Pro SuUa, c. 28.
• 2)ij., ilvui. 18, 23.
* Stpr. da Lois, bk. vi. c. 1 7.
' Ostmaaar.i ruUa Tvrtura.
^.Wortt, vol. vii. p. 523.
- Di Civ. Dei, bk. xix. c. 6.
* Essiy IxT. (Cotton's trans.).
• Dei Delittiedtlk Pmt, c ivi.
^ Storia delta CoUmna S^fame,
Eoden, and Voet. It is worthy of note, however, as illus-
trative o! the feeling of the time, that even Bacon '" com-
pares experiment in nature to torture in civil matters as
the best means of eliciting truth. ^ .Muyart de Vouglans ■'
derives the origin of torture from the law of God. Other
apologists are Siniancas,"bishoi> of Badaios.'^ Enm-I.' ' and
in England Sir R. Wiseman."
Gruce. — The opinion of Aristotle 'was in favour, ol
torture as a mode of proof. It is, he says, a kind ot
evidence, and appears to carry with it absolute cieilibility
because a kind of coni^traint is applied. . It is cla.s.'icd as one
of the " artless persuasions" (ariyyai jrco-Tci!).'^ .'\t .Athens
slaves, and probably at times resident aliens, were tortured,
but it was never applied to free citizens,"' such application
being forbidden by a p.wphism passed in the archonship
of Scamandrius. After the mutilation of the Herm;e in
415 B.C. a proposition was made, but not carried, that it
should be applied to two senators named by an informer.
In this particular case Andocides gave up all his slaves to
be tortured." Torture was sometimes inflicted in open
court. The rack was used as a punishment even for free
citizens. Aotiphon was put to death by this means.",
The torture of Nicias by the Syracusans is alluded to by
Thucydides " as an event likely to happen, and A was only
in order to avoid the pos.sibility of inconvenient disclosures
that he wa.s put to death without torture' Isocrates and
Lysias refer to torture under the generic name of o-rpc-
/JAoxriq.' As might be expected, torture was frequently
inflicted by the Greek despots, and both Zcno and Anax-
archus are said to have been put to it by such irresponsible
authorities. At Sparta the deSpot Nabis was accustomed,
as we»learn from Polybius,^ to put persons to death by an
iustrument of torture in the form of his w-ife Apega, a
mode of torture no doubt resembling the Junafemhiss once
in use in Germany.
Rome. — The Roman system'was the basis of all subset
quent European systems which recognized torture as a part
of their procedure. The law of torture was said by Cicero
to rest originally on custom (mores mnjr/rum')^ There are
frequent allusions to it in the classical writers'-' both of
the republic and the empire. The law, as it existed under
the later empire, is contained mainly in the titles Df
Quaisdunibus --' of the Digest and the CoJe,^ — the former
consisting largely of opinions from the Senlt^lLr Rtreptx ol
Paulus,^* the latter being for the most part merely a re-
petition of constitutions contained in theTheodosianCode.^
Both substantive law and procedure were dealt with by
these texts of Roman law, the latter, however, not as fully
'" Km. Org., bk. i. aph 98. In the Advancement of Leammtj, bk.
iv. ch. 4, Bacon collects many instances of cou:>tancy under torture
" Instttutsdu Droit Criminel, Paris, 1757.
^ De Caihalicis IiuttitiUionibus Liber, adprxcavendaset ezlirpandas
Hferescs admodum necessarius, Rome, 1575.
" De Tortura ez Foris Christianis mm proscribenda, Leipsic' 1^3.
" Law of Laws, p. 122. London. 16S6..'
" Rhet., L 15, 2(i.
, '• The opinion of Cicero {De PaTlilionibus Oratorits, § 34).' that'll
was so applied at Athens and Rhodes, s«ems,'as far as regards Athens,
not to be justified by existing evidence. .
" See Grote, Hist, of Greftc, vol. vii. p. 274.
" See Diet, of Antiq., s.v Bdacwnt.. In the Ranseot Aristophantsl,
V. 617, there is a list of kinds of torture, and the wheel ia alluded to
in Lysistrata, v. 846. '« vii. 86. ^ xiii. 7
^ An interacting one. illustrating the uselessness of torture in the
face of courage and re^^olution, is the abortive result of the torture of
a Spani:>h pe.^sant in 25 ad oq the charge of being the murderer vf
'Lucius Piso (Tac., Ann., iv. 45). A somewhat similar caj>e. occurring
in Sicily, is given by Valerius Maximus, bk. iii. c. iii. Tlie horrible
torture of Epicharis, a freed woman, is described l-y Tacitus, Ann.,
XV. 57. In Pliny's letter to Trajan {Eyisl., x. 97), ho mentiont
having put to the torture two Ciiristian deaconesses (ttUnistrit).
" Qtisstio included the whole process of which torture was s part.
In the wonU of Cujacius, " qusestto est interrog&tio quae fit per
tormenta, vei de reis, vel de testibus qui facto intervenisse dicantair.
» I>ig., xlvUL 18 ; Cod., ix. 41. " ». 14, 15, 16. ■it 85.
462
T 0 11 T U R E
as in mediaeval codes, a large discretion beinf; left to tlie
judges. Torture was used both in civil and criminal trial?,
but in ths former only upon slaves and freed men or
infamous persons — such as gladiators- -and where tbe
truth could not be otherwise elicited, as in cases affecting
the inheritance {res hereditarise). Its place in the case
of free citizens was taken by the reference to the oaih
of the party (see Oath). During the republic torture
appears to have been confined to slaves in all cases, but
with the empire (according to Dion Cassius under Tiberius)
a free man became liable to it if accused of a crime,
though not as a witness. If a Christian, of however
high a condition, he was subject to torture during the
period between the edict of Diocletian in 303 and the
edict of toleration of (Valerius in 311. This short period
excepted, the liability of a free man depended upon two
conditions, the nature of the accusation and the rank of
the accused. On an accusation of treason every one,
whatever his rank, was liable to torture, for in treason the
condition of all %vas equal.' The same was the cise of
those accused of sorcery (ma^i), who were regarded as
humani generis iniinici.' A wife might be tortured (but
only after her slaves had been put to the torture) if
accused of poisoning ber husband. In accusations of
crimes other than treason or sorcery, certain persons
were protected by the dignity of their position or their
tender age. The main exemptions were contained in a
constitution of Diocletian and Maximian, and included
soldiers, nobles of a particular rank, i.e., emiiientusimi and
perfeclissivii, and their descendants to the third generation,
and decunoiKs and their children to a linnted extent — that
is to say, they were subject to the torture of the plmnbnts
in certain cases, such ps fraud on the revenue and extor-
tion. In addition to these, priests (but not clergy of a
lower rank), children under fourteen, and pregnant women
were exempt. A free man could be tortured only where
he had been inconsistent in his depositions. No one was
to be. chained in prison before trial, nor could a prisoner be
tortured while awaiting trial. The rules as to the torture
of slaves were numerous and precise. It was a maxim of
Roman law that torture of slaves was the most efficacious
■means of obtaining truth.' They could be tortured either
as accused or as witnesses, but against their masters only
in accusations of treason, adultery, frauds on the revenue,
coining, and similar offences (which were regarded as a
species of treasov), attempts by a husband or wife on the
life of the other, and in cases where a master had bought
a slave for the special reason that he should not give
evidence against him. The privilege from accusations by
the slave extended to the master's father, mother, wife, or
tutor, and also to a former master. On the same principle
a frecdman could not be tortured against his patron. The
privilege did not apply where the slave was joint property,
and one of bis masters had been murdered by the other,
or where he was the property of a corporation, for in such
a, case he could be tortured in a charge against a member
of the corporation. Slaves belonging to the inheritance
could be tortured in actions concerning the inheritance.
The adult slaves of a deceased person could be tortured
where the deceased had been murdered. In a charge of
adultery against a wife, her husband's, her own, and her
father's slaves couid be put to the torture. A slave manu-
mitted for the express purpose of escaping torture was
reg.irded as still hable to it. Before putting a slave to
torture without the consent of his master, security must
be given to the master for his value. The master of a
slave tortured on a false accusation could recover double
his value from the accuser. The undergoing of torture
ha4 at one tiriie a serious effect upon the after-life of the
slave, for in the time of Gains a slave who had beeir
torlured could on manumission obtain no higher civil
rights than those of a dediticius.* The rules of procedure
were conceived in a spirit of as much fairness a^ such rules-
could be. Some of the most important were these. The
amount of torture was at the discretion of the judge, but
it was to be bo applied as not to injure life or limb. The
examination was not to begin by torture , other proofs
must be exhausted first. The evidence * must have ad
vanced so far that nothing but the confession of the slave
was wanting to complete it. T^ose of weakest frame
and tenderest age were to be tortured first. Except in
treason, the unsupported testimony of a single witjiesSwas
not a sufficient ground for torture.
voice and manner
' Cod., in. 8, 4.
' Cod., ix. 18, 7.
' Cod., i. 3, 8.
of the accused were to be carefully observed. A spon-
taneous confession, or the evidence of a personal enemy,
was to be received with caution. Repetition of the torture
could only be ordered in case of inconsistent depositions or
denial in the face of strong evidence There was no rule
limiting the number of repetitions. Leading questions
were not to be asked. A judge was not liable to an action
for anything done during the course of the examination.
An appeal from an order to torture was competent to the
accused, except in the case of slaves, when an ajipeal could
be made only by the master.' The appellant was not to
be tortured pending the appeal, but was to remain in
prison.' The principal forms of torture in use were the
equuleus, or rack (mentioned as far back as Cicero), th»
plumbcUs, or leaden balls, the ungxda, or barbed booka^
and the fidiadx, or cord compressing the arm. Other
allusions in the Ditjest and Code, in addition to those
already cited, may be shortly noticed. The testimony of 8
gladiator or infamous person (such as an accomplice) was.
not valid without torture.^ This was no doubt the origin
of the mediaeval maxims (which were, however, by no
means universally recognized), — Vihtas personse est jutta
causa (orquendi testem, and Toriura purgatur infamia.
Torture could not be inflicted during the forty dayo of
Lent.5 Robbers and pirates might be tortured even on
Easter Day, the Divine pardon being hoped for where the
safety of society was thus assured.''' Capital punishment
was not to be suffered until after conviction or confession
under torture." Withdrawal from prosecution (abolitioy
was not to be allowed as a rule after the accused had
undergone the torture.'^ In charges of treason the accuser
was liable to torture if he did not prove his case.'' The
.infliction of torture, not judicial, but at the same time
countenanced bylaw, was at one time allowed tocreditorsw
They were allowed to keep their debtors in private prisons,
and most cruelly ill-use them, in order to extort payment,'*
Under the empire private prisons were forbidden.'^ In
the time of Juvenal, if his sixth satire may be believed, the
Roman ladies actually hired the public torturors to torture
their domestic slaves. As a part of the punishment
torture was in frequent use. Crucifixion, mutilation, ex-
posure to wila beasts in the arena, and other cr:;ol modes
* Gaius, i, 13. '
' The evidence on which the accused intglit be tortiircii was ex-
pressed in Roman law by the terms argnvtentum and ifidicium. The
i.ilter term, as will be seen, afterwards became one of the most ino-
jwrtant in the law of torture, but the analysis of iiidtcium is later
than Roman law. Indicium was not quite the same thing a.*! icmi/j/of*
probatio, though the terms appear to be occasionally used as synonym.^.
Indicium was rather the foundation or cause of probalw, whether
plena or semtptena. An indicium or a concurrence of indicia migfau
according to circumstances, constitute a plena or seiniplcna prohalto.
The difference between the words may be illustrated by a passage froBk
Justin, ** Ad ciijub rei probationein immittit indices," xxxii. 2.
" Dig., xlix. 1, 15. ' Cod., vii. C2, 12.
« Dig., xxii. 5, 21, 2. • Cod., iii. 12, 6.
'" Cod., iii. 12, 10. " Cod., ix. 47, 16.
" Cod., ix. 42, 3. " Cod., ix. 8, 3.
" See, for insUnce, Livy, vi. C6. " Cod., i. 4, 23 ; ix. V .
TORTURE
463
of destroying life were common, especiallj in the time
■>i the persecution of the Christians under Nero ' Cruci-
tlxioQ as a punistment was abniishp.d by Constantine in
315, in veneration of the memory of Hinj who was crucified
for manliind. The punishment of mutilation was mode
rated by Justinian, who forbade amputation of both hands
or feet or of any limb, and coutjoed it in future to ampu
tation of one hand.^ Scourging was niHicted only on
slaves , free men were exempt by the L-'-r h'nmn and Lex
Valeria, except in a few cases, such as that of adultery,
the penalty for which was scourging and cutting off the
nose.' On the other hand, where the interests of the
church were concerned, the tendency was in favour of
greater severity Thus, by the Theodosian Code, a heretic
was to be flogged with lead (cmitn-ius plumbo) before
banishment,' and Justinian made liable to torture and
exile any one insulting a bishop or pne-st in a church*
The Church. — As far as it could the church adopted
the Roman law, with the important and characteristic
difference (dating from the severe edicts of Thendosius the
Great in 381) that heresy took the place of treason, it
being regarded as a kind of treason against Uod (" crimen
Issae majestatis divinse ").' The doctrine of couhscation
for treason was so convenient and profitable that it was
rapidly adopted by the church ' As most instances in
which torture was inflicted by ecclesiastical tribunals would
be accusations of heresy or Judaism — a specially revolting
form of heresy to mediaeval Christians — this theory practi-
cally equalized all persons for the purpose of torture, in
accordance with the doctrine that in treason all were
equal The church generally secured the almost entire
immunity of its clergy, at any i-ate of the higher ranks,
from torture by civil tribunals.^ In many instances
councils of the church pronounced against torture, e.y., in
a synod at Rome in 384.' Torture even of heretics seems
to have been originally left to the ordinary tribunals.
Thus a bull of Innocent FV., in 1252, directed the torture
of heretics by the civil power, as being robbers and
murderers of souls, and thieves of the sacraments of God.'"
The church also enjoined torture for usury " A character-
istic division of torture, accepted by the church but not-
generally acknowledged by lay authorities, was into
spiritual and corporal, the latter being simply the imposi-
tion of the oath of purgation, the only form originally in
use in the ecclesiastical courts. The canon law contains
little on the subject of torture, and that little of a com-
paratively humane nature. It laid down that it was no
sin in the faithful to inflict torture, '^ but a priest might
not do so with his own hands," and charity was to be used
in all punishments." No confession was to be extracted
by torture.'^ The principal ecclesiastical tribunal by which
torture was inflicted in more recent times was of course the
' The well-known lines of Juvenal {Sat., i. 155),
"Tsda lucebis in ilia,
Qoa stantes ardent qui fixo gutture fumant, '
will serve as an example of such punishments.
' AW, cxxiiv. 13. ' Cod., \x. 9, 37. • x-/i. 53.
' \ov., cxxiii. 31. On the subject of torture in Roman law refer-
ence may be niarte to Weistphal, Die TortuTtr der Oriechm, Rbmer,
vnd DnUschen. Lcipsic, 1785; Wasserschleben, Uiatoria Qusstionum
per Tarmenla apud Rmnanos, Berlin, 1836.
• This term, which included blasphemy and cognate offences, is
used both by ecclesiastical anrl ."iecular jurists, e.ff., by Suarez de Paz
and by Jou3.se, Traite de la Justice Criminelle.
' See an article by Jlr Lea tn The E-nylish historical Review,
April 1887, "Confiscation for Heresy in tbe Middle Age.s."
' See Escobar, Mor. Tltcol., tract, vi. c. 2. They were to be
tortured only by the clergy, where possible, and only on indicia of
ipecial gravity.
' Ita, Superatieion and Force, p. 419, 3d ed., Philadelphia, 1878.
" Leges el Constituiiunes contra hwreiicos, § 26.
^* Lecky, Ratuma/usin in Europe, vol. ii. p. 34, n.
" necr., pt. ii. 23, 4, 4.i. " Deer., pt. i. 86, 2:..
" Deer., pt. ii. 12, 2. U. ^ Deer., pt. ii. ir. 6, 1.
Inquisition (7.1;.) The code of instructions issued by
Torquemada in Spain in 1484 provided that an accused
person might be put to the torture if semiplena probatio
existed against the accused, — that is, so much evidence as
to raise a grave and not merely a light presumption of
guilt, often used for the evidence of one eye or ear witness
of a fact. If the accused confessed during torture, and
afterwards confirmed the confess., he was punished as
convicted , if he retracted, he was tortured again, or sub-
jected to extraordinary puuishment. One or two inquis-
itors, or a commissioner of the Holy Oflice, were bound to
be present at every examination. Owing to the occurrence
of certain cases of abuse of torture, a decree of Philip II.
was issued, en IS.'iS, forbidding the administration of
torture without an order from the council But this decree
does not appear to have been fully observed By the
edict of the inquisitor-general Valdc^s, in \f^%\, torture was
to he left to the prudence and equity of the judges. They
must consider motives and circumstances before decreeing
torture, and must declare whether it is to be employed m
caput propnum, i.e., to extort a confession, or m caput
atrnium, i.e., to incriminate an accomplice. The accused
was not to be informed of the grounds of torture. He
was not to be questioned on a particular fact, but was to
be allowed to say what he pleased Torture was not to
be decreed until the termination of the process, and after
defence heard, and the decree was subject to appeal, but
only in doubtful cases, to the Council of the Supreme. It
was also only in doubtful cases that the inquisitors were
bound to consult the council, where the law was clear (and
of this they were the judges) there need be no consultation,
and no appeal was allowed. The judges, the registrar, and
the executioners were the only persons allowed to be
present at the torture They were to be careful that the
jailer suggested nothing to the accused during the tor-
ture On ratification twenty-four hours afterwards of a
confession made under torture, the accused might be re-
conciled, if the inquisitors beheved him to be sincerely
repentant If convicted of bad faith, lie might be relaxe(^
I.e., delivered to the secular power to be burned. The
inquisitors had a discretion to allow the accused to make
the canonical purgation by oath Instead of undergoing
corporal torture, but the rule which allows this to be done
at the same time discountenances it as fallacious. It is
remarkable that the rules do not allow much greater
efficacy to torture They speak of it almost in the terms
of Roman law as dangerous and uncertain, and depending
for Its effects on physical strength."' Torture had ceased
to be inflicted before the suppression of the Inquisition,
and in 1816 a papal bull decreed that torture should cease,
that proceedings should be public, and that the accuser
should be confronted with the accused." It was still,
however, customary for the fiscal, even in the latest times.
to end the requisition by demanding torture as a matter of
form. The rules in themselves were not so cruel as the con-
struction put upon them by the inquisitors. For instance,
by Torquemada 's' instructions torture could not be repeated
unless in case of retractation This led to the subtlety of
calling a rSnfewed torture a continuation, and not a repe-
tition."* The rules of Torquemada and of Vald^s are those
of the greatest historical importance, the latter forming
the code of the Holy Office until its suppression, not only
^^ The rules will be found in Llorente's Hist, of the Inquisition, cc.
VI., xxii.
^' A case of actual torture occurred in Spain in the case of Van
Haleii, iu 1817, in spite of the papal bull. In South America, as late
as 1809, power to torture was conferred on inquisitors by the tliMii
and chapter of Santiago. See Francisco Moyen, or Ute Inqruisiiion
in South A merica, by B. V. M.ackenna (tranel. by J W Duffy,
1869), p. 217.
'* Prescott, Ferdinand aiul tsahella, vol. i. p. 327.
464
TORTURE
in Spain, but in other countries where the Inquisition waa
established. But several other codes of procedure existed
before the final perfection of the system by Valdis. The
earliest is perhaps tfbe instruclions for inquisitors (Dirrc-
torivrn Inquisitorum) compiled a century earlier than
Torquemada by Nicholas Eymerico, grand inquisitor of
Aragon about 1368.' Rules of practice were also framed
two centuries later by Simancas, whose position as an
apologist has been already stated. The text-book of pro-
cedure of the Italian Inquisition was the Sacro ArsenaU?
In the Netherlands, Francis Van der Heist was appointed
inquisitor-general in 1521,with.authority to torture heretics
without observing the ordinary forms of law, and without
appeal.^ In 1545 and 1550 instructions for the guidance
of inquisitors were issued by Charles V.* The liability of
a judge for exceeding the law was not always recognized
by the Inquisition to the same extent as by the lay
tribunals. Llorente gives an instance of a warrant by an
inquisitor to a licentiate ordering the torture of an accused
person, and protesting that, in case of death or fracture of
limbs, the fact is not to be imputed to the licentiate.'
Thus far of the law. i\\ practice all the ingenuity of
cruelty was exercised -to find new modes of torment."'
These cruelties led at times to remonstrance from the civil
power. One example, is the edict of Philip II. just
mentioned. Another and an earlier one is an ordonnance
of Philip the Fair, in 1302, bidding the Fnquisition confine
itself within the limits of the law.^ At Venice the senate
decreed that three senators should be present as inquisitors.
Further details of the varieties of torture will be found, by
those curious in such matters, in the works of Llorente,
Herculano- (.history of Ihi Inquisition in Portugal), Motley,
Garrido and Cayley, and Picart, to which may be added
works giving acBounts of the sufferings of individuals
under the Inquisition, such as the narrative of the suffer-
ings of William Lilhgow at Malaga in 1622 and of Van
Halen in 1817, and (in the Spanish and Portuguese
colonies) the capes of Francisco Moyen in Chili, -and of
Dellon at Ooa in 1673.^ Mental torture may be exempli-
fied by Excommunication {q.v.), and by the secrecy and
uncertainty of the proceedings of the inquisitors.
As the practice of torture, both by the civil and
ecclesiastical power, became more systematized, it grew to
be the subject of casuistical inquiry by churchmen, to an
Sxtent far exceeding the scanty discussion of the question
in the text of the canon law. It will be sutficient here to
cite as an example the treatment of it by Liguori, who
incorporates the opinions of many of the Spanish casuists.
On the whole, his views appear to be more humane than the
prevailing practice. The object of torture he defines very
neatly as being to turn semiplena into plena probatio. For
this proper indicia are necessary. He then proceeds
to decide certain questions which had arisen; the most
interesting of which deal with the nature of the sin of
vfhich the accused and the judge are guilty in particular
instances, A judge sins gravely if he does not attempt all
' An edition wts published at Rome in 1658, and a compendiara
«t Lisbon in 1762. and by Marchena at Montpellier iu 1821,
• The only editioa which the writer has seen is dated Gfinoa and
Perugia, 1653.
' Motley, Dutch Republic, voL i. p. 528.
' III., p. 329, = Llorente, c. xiv.
■ ' Among others were the gradual pouring of water, drop by drop on
% particular spot of the body, the iormento de toca, or pouring of
water into a g.iuze bag in the throat, which gradually forced the gauze
Into the stomach, and the phulola, or swineing pendulum, eo graphi-
ially described in one of Edgar Poe's tales.
" , ' OrdonnancfS dcs Rois, vol. i. p. 346.
* The history of Dellon's narrative of his experiences in the prison
df the Inquisition is remarkable. It was translated into English in
1688 by (he Rev. R. Wharton, a chaplain of /irchbishop Saocroft,
but was refused a licence, as being contrary to the king's religion, and
the publisher was imprisoned.
milder means of discovering truth befcve resorting to tor-
ture. He sins in a criminal cause, or in one of notable
infamy, if he binds the accused by oath tp tell the tr\)tb
before there is proof against him. It is the same if with-
out'oath he uses threats, terror, or exhibition of torments
to confound the witness.' If any one, to avoid grave
torments, charges himself with a capital crime, he does not
sin mortally."' It was a doubtful question whether he
sinned gravely in such a case.
-England. — It is the boast of the common law of
England that it never recognized, torture as legal. One,
perhaps the chief, reason for this position taken by the law
is the difference of the nature of the procedure in criminal
cases from that in general use in Continental countries.
To use words more familiar in foreign jurisprudence, the
English system is accusatorial as distinguished from
inquisitorial. The common law of England has always
shown itself averse to the inquisitorial system, and so (at
least in theory) to the torture which may |je regarded as
an outcome of the system whose one end was- to obtain a
confession from the accused. The tendency of the small
amount of statute law bearing on the subject is in the
same direction. It was provided by Magna Charta, § 20,
"that no free man . . . . % should be destroyed in any
way unless by legal judgment of his equals or by the law
of the land." On this Sir E.. Coke comments, " No man
destroyed, <Sic., that is, forejudged of life or limb, dis-
inherited, or put to torture or death.""" The Act of 27
Hen. VIII. c. 4 enacted that, owing to the frequent escape
of pirates in trials by the civil law, " the nature whereof
is that before any judgment of death can be given against
the offenders they must plainly confess their offence (which
they will never do without torture or pains)," such persons
should be tried by jury before commissioners under the
Great Seal. Finally, the Bill of Rights provided that cruel
and unusual punishments ought not to be inflicted. The
opinions of the judges have been invariably against torture
in theory, however much some of them may have been led
to countenance it in practice. The strongest authority is
the resolution of the judges in Felton's case (1628), " that
he ought not by the law to be tortured by the rack, for no'
such punishment is known or allowed by our law." '^ in
accordance with this are the opinions of Sir John
Fortescue," Sir Thomas Smith,i« ^nd Sir E. Coke. The
latter says,^" As there is no law to warrant tortures in
this land, nor can they be justified, by any prescription,
being so lately brought in." '^ In spite of all this torture
in criminal proceedings was inflicted in England with more'
or less frequency for some centuries, both as a means of
obtaining evidence and as a part of the punishment. But
it should be remarked that torture of the former kind waa
invariably ordered by the crown or council, or by some
tribunal of extraordinary authority, such as the Star
Chamber, not professing to be bound by the rules of the
common law. In only two instances was a warrant to
torture issued to a common law judge. '^
A licence to torture is found as early as the Pipe Roll
of 34 Hen. 11.'^ The Templars (see Templars) were
tortured in 1310 by royal warrant addressed to the mayor
9 Theol. Mot., bk. ix. § 202. '» § 274. " 2 InsL, 486.
" 3 State Trials, 371. " De Laudibus Le^m Anglix, c. 22.
" Commontixalth of England, bk. ii. c. 27. It is curious that Sir
T. Smith, with all his hatred of torture, was directed by a warrant
under the queen's scil alone (not through the council) to torture tho
duke of Norfolk's servants in 1571. In a letter to Lord Buruhley he
plc.ided for exemption from so thankless a task.
" 3 Inst., 35. Nevertheless, in the trial of Lords Essex and South-
ampton, Coke is found extolling the queen's mercy for not racking or
torturing the accused, 1 State Trials, 1338.
" Jaixline, licking on the Cm of Tnrtvre in, the CntiUnat Lav oj
England (1837), p. 62. ' '
" Pike, Hist. <ijf Crime t« England, vol. i. p. 427^
TORTURE
465
ftnd shi-rifas of London. To this case it is recorded that
torture was unknown in England, and that no torturer was
to b« foufld in the realm.^ A commission was issued con-
cerning the turtures at Newgate in 1334.' The rack in
the Tower is said to have been introduced b> the duke of
Exeter in the reign of Henry VI., and to have been thence
called ■• the duke of Exeter's daughter. " * In this reign
torture seems \o have taken its place as a part of what may
be called extraordinary criminal procedure, claimed, and
it miy be said tacitly recognized, as exercisable by virtue
of the prerogative, and continued in use down Ui 1640'
The iolliclion of torture gradually became more common
under the Tudor tnonarchs Under Ueory VIII it appears
to have been in frc<iuent use Only two case.-! are rtcocJcd
under Edward VI . and t-ight under Mary •• The reign ol
Elizabeth was its cjluunating point- !o the words of
Hallam, "the rack M-ldum stood idle in the Tower for all
the latter pan of Elizabeth's reign "' The varieties of
torture used at this period are fully described by Dr
Lingard,' and consisted of the rack, the scaven^ei'i
dau^'hter,' the irou gauntlets or bilboes, and the cell
called " Little Ease." The registers of the council during
the Tudor and early Stuart reigns are full of entries as to
the u.se of torture, both for state and for orduiar) vfiFences '"
Ajnong notable prisoners put to the torture were Anne
Ascue, the Jesuit Campion, Ojy Fawkes," and Peachain
(who was examined by Bacon " before torture, in torture,
and after torture").''^ The prevalence of torture lu
Elizabeth's reign led to the well-known defence attributed
to Lord Burghley, "A declaration of the favourable dealing
of Her Majesty's commissioners appointed for the exannn
ation of certain traitors, and of tortures unjustly reported
to bo done upon them for matter of religion." {."iSS '^
The use of torture in England being always of an extra-
ordinary and extrajudicial nature, it b comparatively
certain that it could hardly have been applied with that
observation of forms which existed in countries where it
was regulated by law. There were no rules and no re-
sponsibility beyond the will of the crown or council This
irresponsibility is urged by Seldou '< as a strong objection
'o the use of torture.
So far of what may be called torture proper, to which
the common law professed itself a stranger There were,
however, cases fully recognized by the common law wbicb
differed from torture only in name The print forte ft
dure was a notable example of this If a prisoner stood
mule of malice instead of pleading, he was condemned to
the peine, that is, to be stretched upon his back and to
have Iron laid upon him as much as be could bear, and
more, and so to continue, fed upon bad bread and stagnant
watc through alternate days until he pleaded or died " It
> Rymer, Focdrra. vol iii 228. HI
* Hallaai. UuldU Ayea. vol ui. p 232
' Pike, vol. i p 481 • 3 Injt . 34.
' This I* iho ddte of iba iate:)t wimini In Mi Jinline 9 worli
* It IS to be uoticed. a.- Mi Janliut; .»b.^erves, that aJl thp^e «re
case^ of an oritinary nalare, and allDrd uc ground foi the issBrtion?
madfi by Strutt and I^idho)- Buj-i-^l that innun; was u^ed to bcretJ''«
ts heretics. Cnst Hisl . voi 1 p 201
* //w£ of SngtaTia, vol vin . «p|,«>n'li«. note v.
.* These two were exa<ll> ipposltcui pnm-iple. The racU stretched
the liQili$ of the suflerct . the scaveuijer'a daugb er compressM bin*
into A ball.
'" Fifty-Hve of these will n« found lu the ippetitit to Mr JanHoe*
work An ordinary robber of plate was threate led with lorturu to
1567. -FVoudo, Hist, u/ Engla;4, vol 'Mi p 386
'* It U not certain whether he wa* mtked, bLl probably he was.
to accorilance with the king - letter — " II be wi 1 not otherwisp con-
feas. the gpiitleMt tortures arc to be fir-it itsed Uj aim, and (to on. step
by step, to the Di'->st severp, and so Giwl -ipeed the good work."
*' Dalryuiple, Memoirs and L^ii^rs of Jamf-" /. . D- ^8 , MacAnlav'a
E9£tty on the Work.-* of Bacon.
" Lord Somers's Trcuis, vol 1 p. 189 '* Table Tadt. " Triat
■» Slepbeu. Jltxi o/Ui£ Criminal Lav., vol L j. i9'-
25— W
was abolished by 1 2 Geo 1 1 1 c. 20 7 and 8 Geo. IV. c. 2(
enacted that a plea of " not guilty " shoild be entered foi
a prisoner so standing mute A case of pnue ticcurred
a,-, lately as 172G At tinitj.s t)iMg the thumbs «ilh whip-
cord was used instead ol the /Hint. This was said to be a
..oranion practice at the Old Uuiluy up to the la.st century.'*
In trials for witclicrafl tlic legal pruceediiigs often partook
of the nature of torture, as in the tbruiMng of the reputed
witib i.ito a pond tu .see wlielliec she «wuld sink or swim,
111 diaw.iig her blood,'' iind in ihiusliiig pins into the body
to try tu find the insensible spot Colli ssions, too, appear
to h.nv "iciti tilten e.xturled by actual torture, and luilure
ol an unusual nature, as llie devil was suppu.-ed to piolert
bis voUiries fiuiii ihr itlei ts ol urdiiiaij torture.
Torture as a part ol the puiusLiiient existed In fact, il
uot in name, down to a veiy recent period Mutilation
as a punishment appears in sonic of the pre Compiest
codes, such as those ol Allied, Ailielstan. and Canute.
Bracton, »ho does not notice toiiuie as a means of nbtaiQ-
ing evidence, divides corjiural puiiisbiiient into that iiiHicted
with and without torture '" Later instances are the punish-
ment of burning to death inlluled on heretics under the
Six Articles (31 Hen VI II c. 11) and other Acts, and oo
women for petit treason (abolished by 3U Ceo. 111. c 48),
the mutilation indicted for v^jleiMe in a ro)al palace by
33 Hen VIII c. 12, the puni^linient for high trea.son,
whiih e.xisted nominally until 1870 (^e<i Ti:laso.n), the
pillory (abolished by 7 Wdl IV and 1 Vict c. 23), the
stocks, and the burning in the hand for felony (abolished
by 19 Geo III. c 74) Corporal punishment now tsista
only if the case of juvenile oDeiiders (see ScmmaRV
JuRisuiCTlo.N) and of robbery with violence (see Thlft).
It was abolished in the army by the Army Act, 1881. '^
Scotland. — Torture was lon^ a reco'Tii^ed part of Scottish criiiiinaJ
procedure, and wjsat knotvli-d^rd a-^su- li by inauy All^aud warrants
of the Scottish [xirUaiueut, aifl * jjidots ol the crown and llie [»»ivy
coiiucil. Some ol the more iuj[>ori;tnt in^iaiices uie the tolIo'« ing.
Ill 1542 the foifeiluie of Jobij. bold OLtnifnis, was reduccil b) the
parliaUR'tit as having prori-eiletl oii a confession eMorted by threats
ol the " pyuebankis." hi 15b7 lour pi-r-.ou3 were ordered by the
Privy Council to be lorlured foi coniptidiy in Dainley's murder *•
In 1591 a coDimission issufd I<) lortjie ceit-iin |K;rsons aicused of
witvhcrafl.^' Janit's VI., in 1596. em poweied the provost and bai lies
ol Eiiiaburgh to try rioters by torture. lUt torture waa ufiplied
to Rhynd in 16UU, on a clijr;;e of licing privy to ihe Go*rie Houso
conspiracy," Two Acts in 16-1'J .loali with torture: one took the
forru of a warrant to examine witnesseit against Wilhara Barton by
any form of probjiion,*-' the other of a wairant to a corn milt eo to
impure as to the use oriorturi- again>t peisous suspected ol witch-
craft-"* lu 16r»0 the parliart<*-ui «,rdjiiied ilie committer apjKnnted
for the e.xamiiiation of prisoners to intimate to Colonel Sibbald
that if his exannn.^tioii »eie nut s.ilisfacioiy the parliament woidd
ord iiu him to be lorlured Thejudges. in 1689, were empowered
by the estales lo torture Chrcsly of Dalrye, charged with the
niurdei of the Lord Presiderii Loikhart, in order ti' di.<:covcr ac-
Cornplires. In the same year. llie use of torture vxilliout evidence
or to ordinary cases wa.-- tlei lared illegal in the Ctain; of Kight.
The Careful wording of Ihls will be outiccd: It does not object tH
toitore Mliogi-ihei. but rest rvc.1 it for ca.«esi where a bajis ol
evidence had already Iteen laid, and for crmies of great gravity,
thu.-» .idrirtling the dangerous jirimijile, founded on Human law,
ihal llie imi-Mi.irice of the crime is a reason for deparritig from the
ordiii-iry rules of justice However great the crime, ii is no mors
certain llian in I he cose of a crime of less gravity that Ihe person
acriisetl wa.- the pirsori whi- cotiimillcd it A warrant issued in
the jitnie year to put to I be tfTture certain persons accused of con-
spiring iig.iiust th"- CovemmenI, nnd-^lso ceit^im dragoons suspected
of eiirres|ion.ling with Lord Dundee In 1690 an Act pa-wed recit-
ing ihu torture ol William Carstures, » ruinistei. in 1683, and re-
'• Stephen, vol i. p 300, Keljiig, Reports, p. 27.
" Tlie superstitiou was llial any one dniwing a witch'* Mood «"i:
free from her power. Thiji is alluded to in Henry V/ , pi i act t.
fie 5 , " blood will 1 draw ou thee . tbou art a xvitch. "
'» 104*. '» 44 Viei c. » 8 7.
•> Regtstn »/ thr P-vay CimrfrU v-d 1. p 525.
" Itnd . vol iv p 680. " /tirf., vol vl ^ 166
" - »R3. " c. 370
X)4eiL - S9
466
TORTURE
establishing his competchcy as a witness. ' The la«t rtarrant appears
to be one in 1690 for torturing a man accused of ra^/e and murder.
In 1703 torture in Scotland was finally abolished bj 7 Anne c 21,
■§ 5 Many details of, the tortures inflicted will be found in
Pitcairu's Crimnud Trials and the introduction to Maclaurin's
Crimiital Cases Among other varieties— the nature of some of
them can only be guessed — v/ero the rack, the pilnie\^nkis, the
boot,' the caschie-laws, the lang iniis, the narrow- bore, aad, worst
of all, the waking, or artificial prevention of sleep.^ The ingenuity
of torture was exercised in a special degree on charges of witchcraft,
iiotably in the reign of James VI., an expert both in witchcraft and
in torture The Act of 1649 already cited shows that the prin-
ciple survived hira Under the government of the dukes of
Lauderdale and York torture as a practice in charges of religious
and political offences reached its height. "The privy counciTwas
accus'toioed to extort confessions by torture ; that grim divan of
bishops, lawyers, and peers sucking in the groans of each undaunted
enthusiast, in hope that some imperfect avowal might lead to the
sacrifice of other victims, or at least warrant the execution of the
present"* With such examples before them in the law, it is
scarcely to be wondered at that persons m positions of authority,
especially the nobility, sometimes exceeded the law and inflicted
torture at their own will and for their own purposes There are
several instances in the register of the privj council of suits
against such persons, e.g., against the earl of Orkney, in 1605. for
putting a son of Sir Patrick Bellenden in the boots.
Irelntid seems to have enjoyed a comparative immunity from
torture It was not recognized by the common or statute law, and
the cases of its infliction do not appear to be numerous In 1566
the president and council of Munster, or any three of them, were
empowered to inflict torture, "in cases necessary, upon vehement
presumption ot any great ofTence in any party committed against
the Queen's Majesty"' In 1583 Hurley, an Irish priest, was
tortured in Dublin, by " toasting his feet against the fire with hot
boots "" In the case of Myagh, in 15S1, the accused was brought
■over Irom Ireland by command of the lord deputy to be tortured
in tlie Tower' In 1615 one O'Kenuan was put to the rack in
Dublin by virtue of the lord deputy's commission " In 1527 the
lord deputy doubted whether he had authority to put a priest
named O'Ciillenan to the rack An answer was returned by Lord
Killultagh to the eflect that "you ought to rack him if you saw
cause and hang him if you found reasou "*
Briiish Colonies and Dependencies. —The infliction of torture in any
British colony or dependency has usually been regarded as contrary
to law and ordered only by arbitrary authority It is true that in
the trial of Sir Thomas Victon in 1806, for subjecting, while governor
of Trinidad, a woman named Luisa Calderon to the torture of the
picnuet,'" one of the grounds of defence was that such torture was
authorized by the Spanish law ot the island, but the accused was
convicted in spite of this defence, and the final decision of the
Oouit of King's Bench, inl812, decreeing a respite of the defendant's
recognizances till further order, was perhaps not so much aii
affirmation of the legality in the particular instance as the practical
expression of a wish to spare an eminent public servant " As to
India the second charge against Warren Hastings was extortion
from the begums of Oude by means of the torture of their servants
In the present Indian Penal Code and Evidence Act there are pro-
visions intended, as Sir James Stephen says." to prevent the
practice of torture by the police for the purpose of extracting con-
fessions from persons in their custodv " In Ceylon torture, which
had been allowed under the Dutch government, was expressly
abolished by royal proclamation in 1799
Uwled States —One instance of the peine forU et dure is known.
It was inflicted in 1692 on Giles Cory of Salem, who refused to
plead when arraigned for witchcraft" The constitution of the
UniteJ States provides, in the words of the Bill of Ri"hts, that
cru»l and unusual punishments are not to be inflicted '« This is
repeated m the constitutions of most States. The infliction of cruel
and unusual punishment by the master or officer of an American
vessel on the high seas, or within the maritime junsdiction of the
United States, is punishable with fine or imprisonment, or both
1 The llmmljacrcw with whioh Carsturer had been tortured wu afterwards
orcscnled to lilm as a remcmbranca by the P.rivy CouocU. ... . ^
• Persons subjected to more than usual torture from the t»ot were said to be
' This seems to have been used In one case Id 'England Lccliy, Riatonaliim
in Europe, vol. 1. p. IM. „ «.. , >
« lUllam, Conil. //(<(, vol. III. p. 4.16 See Doniet, Uili. oj Oxen Time. vol. I.
p. £83, and ScOTLxiib. vol. 111. p. 616
» Froode, ^i>l. o/finjtowf, vol. vill p. 386 « /Mi., vol. xl. p. 263.
' Janline, p. 29. ' Cal Stole Paferl (Irish aeries. 1616-1625), p. 78.
• Jardine. p. 64.
10 In (he picquot the sufferer was supported only on the great toe (which rested
on 0 sharp sukcl, and by a rope attaclied to one ann.
" 30 Slatt Trial). Wi. _
" See the Report ot the Proceedlncs. vol. 1.. and Macaulay's Essay on Warren
fl«8tlnR». 13 Stephen, Indian Evidence AeX, p. 126
"« §5 327-831 of Code ; {J 25-27 of Act.
!• Elouvler, Late Diet., e.v. "Peine Forte et Dure.'
M AmeodmenM. Art. vld. l' Recited Slat.. { 63«
ConCinmtal Slm''S. — The priocjplej of Roman iiw were gmprally
adopted. 'Want of spaco unfortunately prevents a detailed exami-
nation of the law cf other countries, but that of It.dy may fiiirly
he taken as the type" of a system which rrachcd at its maturity a
certain revolting corapi«teness of which it is difficult to speak \»itli
patieace. The law as ijexisted in Italy is contained in a Ion*; line
of authorities, chiefly su^splied by tfc« school of Bologna, beginning
with the ghssatores &nd cstning down tbroufi;b the posl-ght^torcy,
until the sj'stem attained its perfection id the vnst woik of
Farinaccius, written early in the 17th century, where every pos-
sible question that could ari^ is treated wi:h elaborate crinuteiiesa.
The writings of jurists were supplemented by a large body of legis-
lative enactments in most of the Italian staies, extending from the
constitutions of the emperor Frederick 11- do-wn to the last: century.
It is not until Bartolas (1314-1367) that the law begins t» assume
a definite and complete form. In bis ccmmcntary on bocic xlviii.
of the Digest he follows Roman law closely, but JDtrodur«s some
further refinements; e.g., though leading qiBestioos may- not bo
asked in the main inquiry they are admissible as subsidiary. There
is a beginning of classification cf indicia. A very full diccnssion
of the law is contained in the vfork on practice of Hippolytus de
Marsiliis,^^ a jjirist of Bologna, notorious, on hi& ows admission, aa
the inventor of the torture of keeping without sleep. He defines
the question as iuguisitio veritatic per tomicnta ot cordis dclorcTTtf
thus recognizing the mental as well as the physical elements in
torture. It was to be used only in capital cases and atr«ious crimes.
The works of Fariuaccius and of Julius Ciarus neady a ccatury
later were of great authority from the high official positions filled
by the writers. Farinaccius was procurator- gMieral to Pope Paul V.,
and his discussion cf torture is one of the most complete of amy.'*
It occupies 251 closely printed foljo pages mth double columns.
The length at which the subject is treated is one of the best proofs
of the science to which it had been reduced. The ahi«f feature of
the work is the minute and skilful analysis of indicm, fama,
prxsumplio, and other technical terms. Many definitions oUndimum
are suggested, the best perhaps being conjectura sx prctiabilibns einou
nccejSariis orta, a quibus potest abesse Veritas scd jion verisimili'Mdo.
For every infliction of torture a distinct iiuficium is required. But
this rule does not apply where it is inflicted (or discovonng
accomplices or for discovering a crime other than that for which it
was originally inflicted. Torture may be ordered io all crinrinal
cases, except small ofl'ences, and in certain civil cases, such as
denial of a depositum, bankruptcy, usury, treasure trove, and fiscal
cases It may be inflicted on all persons, unless specially exempted
(clergy, minors, &c.), and even those exempted may be tortured
by command of the sovereign There aro thi«e kiads of torture,
Icvis, grans, and gravissima, the first and second correspondiag to
the ordinary torture of French writers, the last to the extraordinary.
The extraordinary or gravissima was as much as could possibly bs
borne without destroying life. An immense variety of tortures is
mentioned, the most usual being the tying of one hand only with
the cord The judge could not begin- with torture ; it was only
a subsidium If inflicted without due course of law, it was void
as a proof The judge was liable to ]>enalties if he tortured without
proper indicia, if a privileged person, or if to the extent that death
or "permanent illness was the result. An immense variety of tor
tures is mentioned, and the list tended to grow, for, as Farinac-
cius says, judges continually invented new modes of torture to
please themselves Numerous casuistical questions are trtated at
length Could a priest reveal an acknowledgment of an intended
crime made to him in confession ? What kinds of reports or how
much hearsay evidence constituted fame? How far was a con-
fession allowed to be extorted by blandishments or false promises-
on the part of the judge ? Were there three or five grades ill
torture! Julius Ciarus of Alessandria was a member of the council
of Philip II *> Toagreat extent he follows Farinaccius. He put»
the questions for the consideration of the judge with great clear-
ness. They are— whether (1) a crime has been committed, (2)
the charge is one in which torture is admissible, (3) the fact can
be proved otherwise, (!) the crime was secret or open, (5) the object
of the torture is to elicit confession of crime or discovtry of
accomplices. He admits the tremendous power given to a judge of
torturing a witness should he suspect that the latter knows the
truth and is concealing it. An accuser may not be racked with
the accused in order to test his sincerity The clergy can be
tortured only in charges of treason, poisoning, and violation of
tombs. On the great question whether there are throe or five
grades, ht decides in favour of five, viz,, threats, taking to the
place of torment, stripjiing and binding, lifting on tho rack, rack,
ing. Other Italian writers of less eminence have been referred to
for the purposes of this article. The burden of their writings is
practically the same, but they have not attained the systematic
perfection of Farinaccius. Citations from many of them are made
by Manzoni (see below). Among others are Guido de Suzara, Paris
IB Praclica Oiminalil qux Acerotda nuntupalur, Venice. 1632
10 PraiU el Tiieoriea Cnminalii, bk. li. lit. v. QUKSt. 36-61. Frankfort, 1633
** Piaettca Criminatii Finalii, Lyons, 1637.
T 0 R — T O T
467
lie Puteo. Jigidius Boasios of Milan, Casonns of Venice, Deciantu,
Foilsrios, and TnnquiUus Ambrosianos, whose works cover the
perifJ from the 13th to the end of the 17th century The law
depended mainly on the writings of the jurists as interpreters
of custom. At the same time in all or nearly all the Italian
states the customary law was Umited, supplemented, or amended
by legislation That a check by legislative authonty was neces-
sary appeal from the glimpses afforded by the writings of the
jurists thst the letter of the law was by no means always fol-
lowed ' The earliest legislation after the Roman law seems to
be the constitutious of Uie emperoi Frederick 11, for Sicily pro-
tnnlgaied in 123]
Se^reral instances of the torture of eminent persons occur in
Italian history The histoncal cas« of the greatest literary interest
la that of the persons accused of bnnging the plague into Milan
tn 1630 by smeanng the walls of houses with poison. An analysis
of the case was undertaken by Vern ' and Maozoni,' and puts in a
dear light some of the abuses to which the system led in times
of popular panic Convincing arguments are urged by Manzoni,
after an eTh^.usrive review of the authorities, to prove the ground-
lessness of the charge on which two innocent persons underwent
the torture of the canapt, or hempen cord (the effect of which was
partial or complete dislocation of the wnst), and afterwards suffered
death by breaking on the wheel The main arguments, shortly
stated, are these, all based upon the evidence as recorded, and the
law as laid down by jurists (1) The unsupported evidence of an
accomplice was treated as an indiciwn in a case not one of those
siceptional ones in which such an ludteium was sufficient. The
evidence of two witnesses or a confession by the accused was neces-
sary to establish a remote indicium, such as lying. (2) Hearsay
evidence was received when primary evidence was obtainable. (3)
The confession made under torture was not ratified afterwards.
(4) It was made in consequence of a promise of impunity. (5) It
was of an impossible crime.
Macn general informarloo on the so^aeV'WllI be foond In the works of Mr Lea
acd Mr Lecky, to wbldl nieretiC9 has al'eady been made. In the Penrtf C^lo-
£xdia, ».» "Torture," lo Zedler's Unictrtat Lexicon. s.v. "Tortur," and In
[ej-er's Etpf^ dtt InstilutUyru Jutfifiotm. For Eocland, JardiQc'a work is ihe
■Candard aathority. Thirtr-sli kinds of tornire are de^rlbed in Meyers Kon-
veTuiJiont-Lelikon.uv. "Torrcr." Instruments of tortnre are still prrterred In
the Tower of London and tn the mnsetuns of Hontcb, Radsbon, Nnremberg, Tlie
Ba^e, and other places. Those at the Tower are the iron collar, the bilboes, the
thtunbscrew. and Uie acayenger's daughter There la also a model of one of the
forms of the rack. (J Wt,)
TORY, See Whig axb Toet
TOTEMISM. A totem is a class of material objects
which a savage regards with superstitious respect, believing
that there ejrists between him and every member of the
class an intimate and altogether special relation. The
name is derived from an Ojibway (Chippeway) word which
was first introduced into literature, so far as, appears, by
J. Long, an Indian interpreter of last century, who spelt
it totam* The connexion between a man and bis totem
is mutually beneficent the totem protects the man, and
the man shows his respect for the totem in various ways,
by not killing it if it be an animal, and not cutting or
gathering it if it be a plant As distinguished from a
fetich, a totem is never an isolated individual, but always
a class of objects, generally a species of animals or of
plants, more rarely a class of inanimate natural objects,
very rarely a class of artificial objects.
Siads of Considered in relation to men, totems are of at least
wtems. three kinds : — (1) the clan totem, common to a whole clan,
and passing by inheritance from generation to generation ;
(2) the sex totem, common either to all the males or to all
the females of a tribe, to the exclusion in either case of
the other sex , (3) the individual totem, belonging to a
single individual and not passing to his descendants.
Other kinds of totems exist and will be noticed, but they
may perhaps be regarded as varieties of the clan totem.
The latter is by far the most important of all ; and where
we speak of totems or totemism without qualification the
reference is always to the clan totem.
Clan Tfix Clan Totem. — The clan totem is reverenced by a
yoftm, body of men and women who caU themselves by the name
^ For instance, Paris de Puteo illustrates the axtra-legal cruelties
sometimes practised by asserting that he saw a judge seize an accused
by the hair of the head and dash his head against a pillar in order to
iitort a confession. * Osservazioni suUa TortMra.
' Storia dilia CoCbnna In/ame.
' Voyagu and TraixU of an Indian hftrprtter, p. 86, 1791,
of the totem, believe themselves to be of one blood, de-
scendants of a common ancestor, and are bound together
by common obligations to each other and by a common
faith in the totem. Totemism is thus both a religious and
a social system. In its religious aspect it consists of the
relations of mutual respect and protection between a man
and his totem ; in its social aspect it consists of the rela-
tions of the clansmen to each other and to men of other
clans. In the later history of totemism these two -sides,
the religions and the social, tend to part company ; the
social system sometimes survives the religious , and, on
the other hand, religion sometimes bears traces of totemism
in countries where the social system based on totemism
has disappeared. .We begin with the religions side.
Totemism as a Reli^on, or the Relation between a Man
and his Totem, — The members of a totem clan call them-
selves by the name of their totem, and commonly believe
themselves to be actually descended from it.
Thus the Turtle clan of the Iroquois are descended from a fat
turtle, which, burdened by the weight of its shell in walking, con-
trived by great esertions to throw it off, and thereafter gradually
developed into a man.' The Oey-Fish clan of the Choctaws were
originally oray-fish and lived underground, comin" up occasionally
through the mud to the surface Once a party of Chocuws smoked
them out, amd, treating them kindly, taught them the Choctaw
language, taught them to walk on two legs, made them cut otf their
toe nails and plnck the hair from their bodies, after which they
adopted them into the tribe. But the rest of their kindred, the
cray-fish, are still living underground. ' The Osages are descended
from a male snail and a female beaver. The snaM burst his shell,
developed arms, fee^, and legs, and became a fine tall man ; after-
wards he married the beaver maid.' Some bf the clans of wcsiem
Australia are descended from ducks, swans, and other waterfowl.'
In Senegambia each family or clan is descended from an animal
(hippopotamus, scorpion, &c. ) with which it counts kindred '
Somewhat different are the myths in which a human ancestress
is said to have given birth to an animal of the totem sp*fcies.
Thus the Snake clan among the Mfequis of Arizona are descended
from a woman who gave birth to snakes.'** The Bakalai in western
equatorial Africa believe ttfat their women once gave birfli to the
totem animals ; one woman brought forth a calf, others a crocodile,
hippopotamus, monkey, ioa, and wild pig."
Believing himself to be descended from, and therefore
akin to, his totem, the savage naturally treats it with respect.
If it is an animal he wiJl not, as a rule, kill nor eat it. In
the Mount Gambler tribe (South Australia) "a man does
not kill or use as food any of the animals of the san^e sub-
division with himself, excepting when hunger compels, and
then they express sorrow for having to eat their icingong
(friends) or tumanang (their flesh). VMien using the last
word they touch their breasts, to indicate the close relation-
ship, meaning almost a part of themselves.
To illustrate : — One day one of the blacks killed a crow Three
or four days afterwards a Boortwa (crow) named- Lai-ry died H&
had been ailing for some days, but the killing of his ^ctngtmg
hastened his death. '^ The tribes about the GiiU of Carpentaria
greatly reverence their totems : if any one were to kill the totem
animal in presence of the man whose totem it was, the latter would
say, " What for you kill that fellow ? that my father ' " or " That
brother belonging to me you have killed ; why did yon do it '" "
Sir George Grey says of the western Australian tribes that a man
will never kill an animal of his >cobtmg (totem) species if he finds
it asleep ; " indeed, he always kills it reluctantly, and never
without affording it a chance to escape. This arises from the
family beHef that some one individual of the species is their nearest
friend, to kill whom would be a great crime, and to be carefully
avoided." " Amongst the Indians of British Columbia a man wiil
Totem-
ism as a
religion.
Dec-cent
from
totem.
Respect
shown tc
totenj.
* Second Annual Report of the Buseau of £f^no/o^^WashingtoD,
1883, p. 77. ' CiXiin, A'orth American Indmnsyii p 128.
' Schoolcraft, 7^ American Indians, p. 95 sq. , Lewis and Clarke.
Travels to the Source of the Missouri Rirer, London, IS15, i p. 12.
® Sir George Grey, Vocabulary of Dialects of S W Australia
* Remce •{ Ethnographie, iiL p 396, r p. 81
'" Bourke, Snalx Dance of the Moquis of Arizona, p 177
*^ Du Cbailla, Explorations in Equatorial Africa, p. 308.
" Stewart in Fison and Hon-itt, Kamilaroi and Kvmai, p 169
" Jour. Anthrop. Inst., xiii. p. 300.
'* Grey, Journals of Too Expeditions in «VortA- West and IVeMtmt
AvstraHa, ii, p, 223.
k46d
vT 0 T E M I S M
Fplit
totems
Plant
totems
liever Wl Ins totem snimai ; If Tie sMMpptner do it, he will hide '
bis face for shame, and aFtcrwards. demand compensation for
tne act Whenever one of these Indians exhibits his' totem
badge (as by paintin^it onhis forehead), all persons of the same
totem !iro bound to do honour to it by casting pro|iei-tv before it.'
The Damaras in South Africa are divided inio totem clans, called
"eandas"; and according to the claa to which tlu-y belong they-
Tefuse to partake, e.g., of an. ox marked «ri(h black, white, or r.:u
spots, or of a sliecp without hbrn.s, or of drauglit oxen, iome "of
them will not even touch vessels in which such food has been
cooked, and avoid cvi-n tbc smoke of the fire whicli has been used
to cook it^ The negroes of Seneganibia do not eat their totems.^
Tho Muudas (or Mimdaiis) and Oraons in Bengal, who are divided
into exogamous totem clans, will not kill or eat the totem animals
whicb give '.heir names to the clans.'' ■ A remarkable feature of
porae of these Oraon totems is that they are not whole aniuiaU, but
parts of animals, as the head of a tortoise,- the stomach .of a pig.
In such cases (which are not confined to Bengal) it is of course
not the whole animal, but only the special part, that the clans-
men are forbidden to cat. Such totems may be distinguished a.s
spin loUms. The .lagann.ithi Kumhar in Bengal abstain from
killing or injuring tlic totems of their rcspectivo clans, and they
bow to their totems when tlu-y meet them.'
^\''hen the totem is a [ilaQt the rules are such as these.
A native of western Australia, whose totem is a vegetable,
'" may not gatlier it under certain circumstances and at a
particular period of the year."'' An Oraon clan, whose
totem is the kujrar tree, will not eat the oil of that tree,
nor sit in its shade.^ The Kcd Maiae clan of the Omahas
will not cat red maize. Those of the people of Ambon
and Uliase who arc descended from trees may not ttse
.these trees for firewood.'
The rules not to kill or cat tue totem are not the ociy
taboos ; the clansmen are often forbidden to touch the
totem or any part of it, sometimes even to look at it.
Tlius the Elk clan of ihc Oni.iliasneithereat the flesh nor touch any
part of the male cik.^ T'lc Deer-Head clan of the Omahas may not
touch the skin of any aniniiu of the deer family, nor wear moccasins
of deerskin, nor use the fat of Tlie deer for hair-oil; hut they may eat
the flesh of dccr.^ Of the totem clan.s inl-Jengal it is s.iid that they
"are prohibited from killing, eating, cutlmg. burning, carrying, u>ing,
&c. ," the totem.''-' The Bchuana^ in Soutli .Africa, who have a well -
developed totem system, may no: eat nor clothe tlicmsclvcs in the
skin of the totem animal." They even avoid, at least in some ca,scR,
to look at the totem. Thn? to a man of the Bakuena (Bakwain) or
Crocodile clan, it is "hateful and unlucky" to meet or gaze on a
crocodiic ; the sight is thouglit to cause iniiammaticn of the eyes.
Totem Sometimes Ihe'totetn .-.ninia! is fed or even kept alive in captivity.
kept in Among the mountaineers of Formosa each clan or village keeps its
captivity, totem (serpent, leopard, &c.) in a cage.'- A Samoan clan wliosc
totem was theee! tised to present the lirst fruits of llie taro planta-
tions to the eels.''' Amongst the Narnnyeri in Soutli Australia men
of the Sn.ake clan soiiiciimes cotch snakes, pull out their teeth or
saw up their mouths, utnl keep ilieni as ].eLs.'^ In a Pigeon clan
of Samoa a pigeon was carefully kept and feil." Amongst the
Kala.ng in Java, » Lose totem is the red dog, each family as a rule
keeps one of these animal.-, w hieh thev will on no account allow to
be struck or ill-used by any one,""
Totem The dead totem is mourneii t'.ir ana Durieu like a ucad chansraan.
buried Tn Samoa, if a man of the Owl totem found a dead owl by the
tr.d road side, he would sit down and weep over it and beat his forehead
tjoiiniei with stones till tl'.e blood ll.jwed. The bird would then be wrapped
up and buried with as much ceremony -as if it had been a liuman
being. "Tliis, however, was not tlie death of the god. He was
JupposeJ to be yet alive, and incarnate in all the owls in existence.""
The generalization here iniplicd is characteristic of totemism; it is
flot merely an individual but the species that is reverenced. The
Wanika ia eastern Africa look on the hya;na as one of their
fotem
taboos.
' R. C. Maj-ne, Jlnlis'i Vohimlun, p. 268.
» C. J. Anderson, Lnkc .\'gm„\, 2-.22 sq. » 7?<t. d'Elhn., iii. 39G.
* Dalton in Trans, lltlmolog. Soc, new series, vi, p. 36; Id.,
Etknol. of Bengal, pp. ISO, 2G-) ;- As. Qimrl. Jtcv., July 1S8G, p. 76.
» As. Quart. /;«'., July 18SC, p. 79. ' Grey, Journals, li. 22S sj.
' Paltnn, Klhn. of Ik-ngal, •I'.A; Id., Trans. F.Lhml. Soc., vi. 3C.
" E. James, Kxpulitiun from PitlJmrr/h to tlie Rockt) Mountains,
I. p. 47; Third llrp. liur. Ktlinul., p. 225.
» Janic5, loc. cil. ; Third Hep., 245. "> As. Quart. Rev., July 1886.
" Cisalis, The Dnsutos, 211.
" Verkandl. drr Berliner CcstU. f. Anthrorolnaie, 1882, p. (02).
'* Turuer, .Samoa, p. 71.
W A'alne Tnbcs of S. Australia, p. 63. " Turner, op. cit., p. B4.
>• Rallies, Jhsl. of Java, i. p. 328. cd. 1817; •
." Turner, op. cit., p. 21, <f. 26, 00 sq.
ancestors, and" the acam ui au iiysrua is mournel tjy the w^oI«
people ; the mourning for a chief is said to be as nothing compared
to the monrnjng for Sin hy.Tna. " .A tribe of southern Arabia used to
bury.a dead gazelle wbeiever they found one, and the whole tribe
mourned for it ^ven days.'» A Califomian tribe which reverenced
thi9bii"»rJ held an annual festival at which thechief ceremony was
tna killing of a buzzard without losing a drop of its blood. It wan
then skinned, tho feathers were preserved to make a sacred dress for
the medicine-man, and the body was buried in holy ground amid
the lamentations of the old women, who mourned aa ^r tlie loss of
a relative or friend. =°
As some totem clans aVoid looking at their totem, so others are Totem
careful not to speak of it by ita proper name, but use descriptive not re-
epithets instead. The three totems of the Delawares— the w„Ii, f.rred to
turtle, and turkey — wero referred to respectively as "round foot," bj' aaine.
"crawler," and "not chewing," the last referring to the bird's habit
of swallowing its food ; and tho clans called themselves, not AVolves,
Turtles, and Turkeys, but " Ronnd Feet," " Crawlers,'' and " These
who do not chew.'"-' The Bear clan of the Oltawas called them-
selves not Bears but Big Fect^^ The object of these circum'"eu-
tions IS probably to give no offence to tbe worshipful animal.
The penalties supposed to be incurred by acting disre- Conse-
spoctfuUy to the totem are various. The Bakalai think 1*™"
that if a man were to eat his totem the -women of his
of dis-
respect
clan would raiscarrj' and give birth to animals of the totem to totem
k'.ad, or die of an awful disease. ^^ The Elk clan among
the Omahas believe that if any clansman were to touch
any part of the male elk, or eat its flesh or the flesh of
the male deer, he would break out in boils and white spots
in different parts of the bodj-."* The Red Maize .subclan
of the Omahas believe that, if they were to eat of the red
maize, they would have running sores all round their
mouth.-^ And in general the Omahas believe that to eat
of the totem, even in ignorance, would cause sickness, net
only to the eater, but also to his wife and children.'^
The worshipper? of the Syrian goddess, whose creed ■aas
saturated with totemism, believed that if they ate a sprat
or an anchovy their whole bodies would break out in ulcers,
their legs would waste away, and their liver melt, or that
their belly and legs would swell up.^"
The Sa moans thought it death to injure or eat their
totems. The totem was supposed to take up his abode in
the sinner's body, and there to gender the very thing
^yhich he had eaten till it caused his death.^ ^
Tlius if a Turtle man ate of a turtle he grew verj' ill, and the Sarioan
voice of tho turtle was heard in his inside saying, " He ate me ; 'node of
I am killing liim.'"-^ In such cases, however, the Samoans had a apt '.-asini
mode of appeasing the angry totem. The ofTeiider him-self or one totem
of his clan was wrapped in leaves and laid in an unheated oven,
as if he were about to be baked. Thus if amongst the Cuttle-Fish
clan a visitor had caught a ciUilc-fish and cooked it. or if a Cuttle-
Fish man h.ad been present at thecatingof acuttlc-ii=^, the Cuttle-
Fish clan met and chose a man or woman who went through the
pretence of being baked. Otherwise a cuttle-fish would grow in
the stomach of some of tbe clan a^id bo. their death.**
In Australia, also, the puni.shment for eating the totem Aus-
appears to have been sickness or dcath.^' But it is not Y^^"
merely the totem ■which is tabooed to the Australians, ^'aboot.
they have, besides, a very elaborate code of food prohibi-
tions, which vary chiefly with age, being on the whole
strictest and most extensive at puberty, and gradually
relaxiijg with advancing years. Thus young men are for-
bidden to eat the emu ; if they ate it, it is thought that
they would be afflicted with sores all over their bodies.^- •
" Charles New, Life, Wanderings,, de., in Eastern Africa, p. 122.
" Robertson Smith, Kinship and Marriage in Early Arabia, p. 195.
■"" Boscaua, in Allred Tlobiusou's Life in California, p. 291 sq.:
Bancroft, A'atii-e /(a,-es of the Pacifc Slates, iii. p. 168.
-' Bnnton, The Laiape and their Legends, ]f. 30 ; Morgan, ./4n«. &>c.,
p. 171 ; Ueckewelder, p. 247.
" See Acad., 27th Sept. 1884, p. 203.
a Du Chaillu, Equal. Afr., p. 309. ■ " Third Jiep., 225.
" Tlid., 231. -' James, Ezpal. to the Rocky Mountains, ii. p. 50
" Plut.arch, De Superst., 10; Seldcn, De Dis Si/ris, p. 2G9 sq.,
Leipsic, 1668.* ^ Turner, Samoa, p. 1" sq. '■'■' Jbid., p. 50.
2" Turner, Samoa, p. 31 sq. " /. A. I., xiii. p. 192.
" T. L. Mitchell, Thru Expeditions iido the Interior of Eastort
Australia, IL p. 341.
X..0 T E M I S M
lOd
'•.fm
.'. not
.iiure
rotem .
belps
cUosnian.
Totem
The relation Iwtwctu o ui*a and his toiein is Ouo ot
mutual help and protectioo If the man respects and cares
for the totem, he expects that the totem will do the tame
bj' him. In Senegambia the totems, when they are
dangerous animals, will not hurt their clansmen , e.y , men
of the Scorpion clan alfirm that scorpions (of a very deadly
xind) will run over their bodies without biting them ' A
Snake clan (Ophiogenes) in Asia Minor, believing that
•hey were descended from snakes, and that snakes were
heir kinsmen, submitted to a practical test the claims of
iny man amongst them wlmm they suspected of being
■o true clansman They made a snake bite him, if he
■jrvived, he was a true clansman , if he died, he was not.-
"he Hsylli, a Snake clan in Africa, had a similar test of
:insh:p , they exposed iheir new born children to snakes,
lOd if the snakes left them unharmed or ooly bit without
^illine them, the children were legitimate , otherwise they
*ere bastards.^ In Senegambia, at the present day, a
fiYttron is expected to visit every child of the Python clan
vithin eight days after birth '
Other totem clans regard a man who has been bitten by
the totem, even though he survives, as disowned by the
totem, and therefore they expel him from the clan.
Among the Crocodile clan of the Bechuanas, if a man has
been bitten by a crocodile, or me.ely had water splashed
over him by a crocodile's tail, he is expelled the clan.*
But it is not enough that the totem should merely
abstaiu from injuring, he must positively benefit the men
who put their faith in him. The Snake clan (Ophiogenes)
of Asia Minor believed that if they were bitten by an
adder they had only to put a snake to the wound and
their totem would suck out the poison and soothe away
the inrianimation and the pain.^ Hence Omaha medicine-
men, in curing the sick, imitate the action and voice of
theit (individual) totem.' Members of the Serpent clan in
Senegambia profess to heal by their touch persons who have
;een bitten by serpents.^ A similar profession was made
in antiquity by Snake clans in Africa, Cyprus, and Italy.'
Again, the totem gives his clansmen important informa-
tion by means of omens In the Coast Muning tribe of
New South Wales each man's totem warned him of com-
ing danger , if his totem was a kangaroo, a kangaroo
would warn him against his foes'" The Samoan totems
gave omens to their clansmen. Thus, if an owl flew
before the Owl clan, as they marched to war, it was a
i.ignal to go on , but if it flew across their path, or back-
wards, it was a sign to retreat " Some kept a tame owl
in purpose to give omens in war '^
When the conduct of the totem is not all that his
:Iansmen could desire, they have Tarious ways of putting
pressure on him.
Thns, in harvest time, when the birds eat the com, the Small Bird
clan of the Omahas take some com which they chew and spit over
the field. This is thought to keep the birds from the crops.'* If
worms infest the com the Reptile clan of the Omahas catch some of
them ar.d pound them up with some grains of corn which have been
heated. They make a soap of the mtstuie and eat it, believing that
ihe coro will not be infested again, at least for that year." Diirin"
I fog the men cf the Turtle subclan of the Omahas used to draw
^ /Uvue (C Ethrwgraphie^ iii. p. 3S6.
' VaiTO in Priscian, x. 32, vol. i. p. 524, ed. KciL For the snake
lescent of the clan, see Strabo, xiii 1, 14 ; ^Uan, tf. A., xii. 39.
' Varro, ioc. cU.; Phny, N. H., vii. § 14. Pliny has got it wrong
»nd on. He says that if the snake.'; did not leave the children they
•ere b^tards. We may safely correct his statement by Varro's.
* lievue d^ Ethnographies iii. p. 397.
' Livingstone, Sdh.'A Africa, p. 255. • Strabo, liii. 1, 14.
' James, Expedition to the Rocky itountaiTU, i. p. 247.
' Jievue d^ Bihnoffraphie, iiL p. 396.
' PUny, V. II., x.Tviii. 30. "> J. A 1 . xiii. 195 n, ivL 46.
•' Tnraer, Samoa., 21, 24, 60. '^ Ibid., 25 sq.
* Third Report, p. '238 sj. The idea perhap'; ii that the birds
•It in the persons of their dannneD, and give tangible evidence that
aaj hav8 eaten their fill, '• Third Rep., 248.
Ilia h^uro ol A turtle on me g.iiunJ with iN fa'C to the soutli.
On the head, tall, middle of the back, and on each leg were
placed sniail pieces uf a red breech-cluth «ith soma tobacco. This
was thought to make the fog disappear "
lu order, apparently, to put himself more fully under M=n
the protection of the totem, tho clansniau is lu thu habit assimi-
of assimilating himself to the totem by dr«wing lu tht skin !j^'** ,.
ot other part of the totem animal, arranging his hair and ig taUJa
mutilating his body so as to resemble the totem, and repra.-
senting it on his body by cicatrices, tattooing, or paint.
Among the Thlinkets on solemn occ^iions, such ds dance^
meniori.i! festivals, and burials, individuals often appear dis-'uised
in the full form of their UUt- m animals , and, as a rule, each clans
man carrit-s at letust an ea-sily recognizable part of his toteti, witfc
him." Amongst theOuiahas, the smaller boysof rlie Black Sliouidei
(ButfaloJ Clan wear two locks of liair in imitation of horns.'' Tb»
Small Bird clan of the Oinah.Ts " leave a little bail in front, ovei
the forehead, for a bill, and sunic at the back of the he,id. for thi
bird's tail, with much over each ear lor the wings " ■* The Tartli
subclan of the Onialias ''cut olf all th,' hair from a b<'»y"s head
except six locks , ti'o are left on eac h >iJe, one over tbe forehead
and one hangino donii the back in inntdiion of the legs, bead, and
tail of a turtle " '* Tlie practice of knocking out the upper IronI
teeth at puberty, which prevails in Australia dnd elsewhere, is. o:
was once, probably an mutation of the totem. The liatoka ic
Africa who adopt this practice say that they do so in order to tw
like oxen, while those who retain their teeth are like zebras.'*
The Haida-s of Queen Charlotte Islands are universally tattooed \ati^,
the design being in all cases the totem, executed in a conventional '*' ^'
style. When several families of ditfereot totems live together in
the same large house, a Haida chief will hava all their totemi
tattooed on his person " Tribes in South Amenca are especially
distinguished by their tatioo marks, but whether these are toteir
marks is not said " Tlie Australians do not tattoo bnl raisi
cicatrices ; iu some trihes these cicatrices are arranged in pattern,
which serve as the tribal badges, consisting of lines, dots, circles
semicircles, ic '* According (o one authority, these Australiai
tribal badges are sometimes representations of the totem ''*
Again, the totem is sometimes painted on the person of the claD»
man. This, as wc hare seen (p. 468), is sometimes done by thi
Indians of British Columbia. Among the Hurons (Wyandots,'
each clan has a distinctive mode of painting the face ; and. at leasi
in thf case of the chiefs at iust-illation, this painting represent)
the totem." Among the Moquis the representatives of the clans al
foot races, dances, &c. , have each a conventional representation a'
his totem blazoned on breast or back *
The clansman also affixes his totem mark as a signatnr«
to treaties and other documents,'^' and paints or carves it
on his weapons, hut, canoe, ifcc.
The identification of a man with his totem appears
further to have been the object of various ceremoniei
observed at birth, marriage, death, and on other occasions.
Birth Ceremonies.— Oa the fifth day after birth a child Birth
of the Deer Head clan of the Omahas is painted with red"™:
spots on its back, in imitation of a fawn, and red stripes """"**•
are painted on the child's arms and chest. All the Deer-
Head men present at the ceremony make rod spots on theii
chests. ^^ When a South Slavonian woman has given birtl
to a child, an old woman runs out of the house and calls
out, "A she-wolf has littered a he wolf," and the child is
drawn through a wolfskin, as if to simulate actual birth
from a wolf. Further, a piece of the eye and heart of a
"> 7'^ird Report, 240. '
" Holniberg in ArMi Sec. Scient Fer niciE, iv. 293 s?., S23 , Petro^
Report on Popndation, Industries, and Resources of Alaska, p. 166.
" Third Rep., 229. ^ Ibid., 23S. ■« Ibid., 21C
^ Livingstone, South Africa, p. 632.
'^'Gcolog. Suit, of Canada, Rep. for IS7S-79, pp. IOSb, 185e
Smithsonian Cuntrib. to KnoicI, vol. xxi. No. 267, p. 3 sq. , Xaturt,
20th Januar}' IS87, p. 285; Fourth Annual Report of the Bureau ^f
Elhiohgi/, \V.^shington, 1886, p. 67 sg.
"-■"■' Martins, Zuy Ethnogrnphie Ainerica*3, zumal Brasiliens, p. 55.
^ Broiigli Smyth. Aborigines of Victoria, i. p. sli. sq., 295, ii. 318;
Eyre, Jour., ii. 333, 335; Ridley, Kamilaroi, p. 140; Jour, and
Proe. R. Soc iV. S. Wales, 1882, p. 201.
•* Mr Cfaatfield, in Fison and Howitt, Kamilaroi and Kumat, pi
66 D. On tattooing in connexion with totemism, see Haberlaodt ifi
Mitlhcit. der anthrop. GeselL in H'lcn, xv. (1885) p. [53] sj.
» First Rep., pp. 62, 64 » Bourke, Snake Dance, p. 229.
" Heckewelder, Indian iVatiatis, p. H7.
® Third Rep., p. 245 sj.
470
T O T E M i; S M
wolf are sewek, into the child's shirt, or hung round its
neck ; and, if several children of the flmily halve died-
before, it is called Wolf. The reason assigned for some of
these customs is that the witfhes who devour children
will not attack a wolf.' In other words, the human child
is disguised as a wolf to cheat its supernatural foes. The
sam3°desire for protection against supernatural danger
may be the motive of similar totemic customs, if not of
totemisrn io general.
MsJTiage Marriage Ceremonies.— kmong the Kalang.of Java,
ce«- whose totem is the red dog, bride and bridegroom before
m«iea.rm^rriage are rubbed with the ashes of a red dog's bones.^
Among the Transylvanian' Gipsies, bride and bridegroom
are rubbed with a weasel skin.^ The sacred goatskin
(sgis) which the priestess of Athene took to newly
married women may have been used for this purpose.*
At Rome bride and bridegroom sat down on the skin of
;the sheep which had been sacrificed on the occasion.^ An
Italian bride smeared the doorposts of her new home with
wolf's fat." It is difficult to separate from totemism the
custom observed by totem clans in Bengal of marrying the
bride and bridegroom to trees before they are married to
each other. 'I'he bride touches with red lead (a common
■marriage ceremony) a mahwi tree, clasps it in her arms,
and is tied to it. The bridegroom goes through a like
ceremony with a mango tree.''
Death Ceremonies. — In death, too, the clansman seeks
to become one with his totem. Amongst soma totem
clans it is an article of faith that, as tha clan sprang from
the totem, so each clansman at death reassumes the totem
form. Thus the Moquis, believing that the ancestors of
the clans were respectively rattlesnakes, deer, bears, sand,
water, tobacco, i-c, think that at death each man, accord-
ing to his clan^ is changed into a rattlesnake, a deer, ikc.^
Amongst the Black Shoulder (Buffalo) clan. of the Omahas
a dying clansman was wrapped in a buffalo robe with the
hair out, his face was painted -with the clan mark, and his
friends addressed him thus : "-You are going to the
animals (the buffaloes). You are going to rejoin your
ancestors. Vou are going, or your four souls are going,
0 the four winds. Be strong." >*
j,^.j.^ Ceremonies at Puberty. — The attainment of puberty is
monies at celebrated by savages with ceremonies some of which seem
iiaiic-.ty. jg (jg ^[^Qctly connected with totemism. The Australian
rites of initiation at puberty include the raising of the.=6
Bears on the persons of the clansmen and clanswomen which
serve as tribal badges or actually depict the totem. They
also include those mutilations of the person by knocking out
teeth, itc, which we have seen reason to suppose are meant
to assimilate the man to his totem.
At one stage of these Australian rites a number of men appear
on the scene howlmg and running on all fours in imitation of the
dingo or native Australian dog ; .at last the leader jumps up,
clasps his hands, and shouts the totem name "wild dog."'" Tho
Coast Murring tribe in New South Wales had an initiatory cere-
DiOiiy at which the totem name "brown snake" was shouted, and
a mcdicinc-rnan produced a live brown snake out of his mouth."
As tho fundamental rules of totem societies are rules regulating
social intercourse, perhaps these pantomimes were intended to
bupply the youths with a symbolic language by means of which
they might communicate with (wrsons speaking different languages.
' Krau5«, Sillc und Drauch dcr Siidstaven, p. 541 sq.
■ Kafflcs, J/ist. 0/ Java, i. 328. On rubbing with ftshes as a,
religious ceremony, cf. Spencer, De Legibus Beirssorum, Ritualibus,.
Vol. ii. diss. iii. lib. iii. cap. 1.
' Orir/mal-.Villheil. ans der etlinolog. AhOieit. dcr kmigl. Musem
tu Berlin, i. p. 156. * Suidas, s.v. alyts. '
' Servius on Virgil, jEn., iv. 37'); Festus, s.v. In pelle.
' Pliny, Knt. Jhsl., xxviii. 142.
' Dalton, £lhn. of ncnrial,-l^i (Muudas), 319 (Kuiinis). Among
the Mundas, both bride and bridegroom are sometimes married to roasg^ ,
trees. For K urmi-totetn«, see /4s. Qi«7r(. Bti)., July 1886, p. TTT.
» Schoolcraft, 7>u2. Tr., iv. 86. ' Third Rep., p. 229. •
I" /. a. /., xiA 460. " Wrf.. xvi. p. 48.
audi thus 'aacertain whtfoet tiiey belonged to clans with which
nuirriage was ^owed. Tho totem cUas of the Bcchuanas have
■each jta special danco or pantomime, and when they wish to
ascertain a stranger's clan th^'ask him, "What do you dance t""
We find ekewhere that dauclog has been used ss a means ef
sexual delectioiu
But in some cases these dances seem to be purely re-
ligious. At their initiatory rites the Yuin tribe in New
South Wales mould figures of the totems in earth and dance
'before them, and a medicine-man brings up out of his inside
the "magic" appropriate to tho totem before which he
stands : before the figure of the porcupine he brings up a
sins' like chalk, before the kangaroo a slufi like glass, &cJ'
Again, it is at initiation that the youth is solemnly
forbidden to eat of certain foods ; but, as the list of foods
prohibited to youths at puberty both in Australia and
America extends far beyond the simple totem, it would
seem that we are here in contact with those unknowu
genera! ideas of the savage, whereof totemism. is only r
special product.
Thus the Narrinyeri youth at initiation are forbidden to eat
twenty different kinds of game, besides any food belonging to
women. If they eat of theso forbidden foods it is thought "they
will grow ugly." In the Mycoolon tribe, near the Gulf of
Carpentaria, tho youth at iiiitiarion is lorbiddrn to cat of eagle-^
hawk and its young, native companion and its yonng, some snakes,
turtles, ant-eaters, and emu eggs." Tho Kurnai _)-outh is not
allowed to eat the femile of any animal, nor tiie emu, nor tho
porcupine. He becotnes free by having the (at of the animal
smeared iin his face. '5 On the other hand, it is said th.it "initiation
confers many privileges on tho youths, as they are now allowed to
eat many articles of food which were previously forbidden to
them."" Thus in New South Wales before initiation a boy may
eat only the females of iho animals which he catches ; but after
initiation (which, however, may not be complete for several years)
he may eat whatever he finds." In North America tho Creek
youths at puberty were forbidden for tweivs months to eat of yOung
bucks, turkey-cocks, fowls, pease, and salt.'*
These ceremonies seem also to be meant to admit the Admlg.
youth into the life of the clan, and hence of the totem, a'on to
The latter appears to be the meaning of a Carib ceremony, |^'
in which the father of the youth took a live bird of prey,
of a particular species, and beat his son with it till tha,
bird was dead and its bead crushed, thus transferring the
life and spirit of the martial bird to the future warrior.
Further, he scarified his son all over, rubbed the juices of
the bird into the wounds, and gave him the bird's heart to
eat.^" Amongst some Australian tribes the youth at initia-
tion is smeared with blood drawn from the arms either of
aged men or of all the men present, and he even receives
the blood to drink. Amongst some tribes on the Darling
this tribal blood is his only food for two days. Among
some tribes the youths at initiation sleep on lbs graves of
their ancestors, in order to absorb their virtues.^' It is,
however, a very notable fact that the initiation of an
Australian youth is said to be conducted, not by men of
the same totem, but by men of that portion of the tribe
into which he may marry.^ In some of the 'Victorian
tribes no person related to the youth by blood can interfere
or assist in his initiation,^ 'U'hether this is true of all'
tribes and of all the rites at initiation does not appear.
Connected with totemism is also the Australian cere- RMMieo
mony at initiation of pretending to recall a dead man to *ion.
life by the utterance of his totem name. An old man lies ^
'2 Livingstone, South Africa, p. 13 ; J. Mackenzie, Ten Year
XoTth of the Orange River, p. 391, cf. p. 135 ii. ; J. A. /., xvi. 83.
'3 Jour, and Proc. R. Soc. A'. S. ITnto, 1882, p. 206.
'' Kat. Tribes of S. Austral., p. 17. " J. A. /., xiii. p. 295.
'« Ibid., xiv. p. 310. . " Ibid., 360.
V Jour, ar.d Proc. R. Soc. N. S. Waks, 1882, pp. 208.
" Qi^\.!.ch<:\., Migration L'ijcnd of the Creek Indians, i. p. 185.
'■^ Kochefort, Hi.'^i. nat. ct tnur. des Iks Antilles (Rotterdam, 166S\
p 556; Du Tertre, Ilistoire ginirale dcs Antilles, vol. ii. p. 377;
■ =' Jour, ajiri Proc. R. Soc. If. S. Wales, 1882,. p. 172;
" Howitl in J. A. /., xiii. 458. _
" Dawson, Australian Aborigines, p. 30;
T O T E ^I I S M
471
tiirth.
»3cri£ca
of toteoL
Sex"*,
I
aonm ia a grave and is covered up lightly with earth ; but
at the meotion of his totem name he starts up to life.'
SoQietioies it is believed that the youth himself is killed
by a being" called Thuremlui, who cuts him up, restores
him to life, and knocks out a tooth. ^ Here the idea
seems to be that of a second birth, or the beginning of a
new life for the novice ; hence he receives a new name at
the time when he is circumcised, or the tooth knocked
out, or the blood of the kin poured ox) him.' Amongst the
Indiansi of Virginia and the Quojas in Africa, the youths
after initiation pretended to forget the whole of their former
lives (parents, language, customs, <tc.). and had to learn
everything over again like new-born babes.' A Wolf clan
in Texas used to dress up in wolf skir.3 and run about on
all fours, howling and mimicking wolves; at last they
scratched up a Lving clansman, who had been buried on
purpose, ^nd, putting a bow and arrows In his hands, bade
him do as the wolves do — rob, kill, and murder.' This
may hav« been dn initiatory ceremony, revealing to the
novice in pantomime the double origin of the clan — from
wolves and from the ground. For it is a common belief with
totem clarjs that they issued originally from the ground.
Connected with this mimic death and revival of a clans-
man appear to be the real death and supposed revival of
the totem itself. We have seen that some Califomian
Indians killed the buzzard, and then buried and'mourned
over it like a clansman. But it was believed that, as often
as the bird was killed, it was made alive again. Much
tTie same idea appears in a Zuni ceremonj- described by an.
eyewitness, Mr Gushing. He tells how a procession of fifty
men set ofi for the spirit-land, or (as the Zanis call it)
"the home of our others," and returned after four days,
$ach man bearing a basket full of living, squirming turtles.
One turtle was brought to the house where Mr Gushing
was staying, and it was welcomed with divine honours.
It was addressed as, " Ah ! my poor dear lost child or
parent, my .sister or brother to have been ! Who knows
which t May be my own great great grandfather or
mother?" Nevertheless, next day it was killed and its
flesh and bones deposited in the river, that it might
," return once more to eternal life among its comrades in
the dark waters of the lake of the dead." The idea that
the turtle was dead was repudiated with passionate sorrow;,
it had only, they said, " changed houses and gone ^o live
for ever in the home of 'our lost others.'"* The mean-
ing of such ceremonies is not clear. Perhaps, as has been
suggested," they, are piacular sacrifice', ia which the god
dies for his people. This is borne out !./>■ the curses with
which the Egyptians loaded the head of the slain bull.'
Sex Totems. — In Australia (but, sD far as is krown at
present, nowhere else) each of the sexes has, at least in
some tribes, its special sacred animal, whos>e name each
individual of the sex bears, regarding the animal as his or
her brother or sister respectively, not killing it nor sufler-
ing the opposite sex to kill it. These sacred animals
therefore answer strictly to the definition of totems.
Thus aoioi.^t the Kurnai &]1 the TOeo were called Yeerung
(Emu- Wren) anQ a>i '.Lc women Djeelgun (Superb Warbler)- The
birds called Veerung were tlje " brothers" of the men, and the
birds called Djectgun. were the women's " ^Liters" If the men
killed an emu wrpa they were attacked bj the Komen. if the
women killed a superb warblt-r they were assailed by the men.
Veerung and Ojectguii were the mytbiciil ancestors of tlie Kurnai.'
^' J. A /., xiii 453 M. = Ik., xiv. aiS.
? ' Angas. i 115 , Brough Smyth, i. 75 n; J. A. I , xir. 357, 339;
llal. Tr. of S. Austr . pp. 232, 269
* R. Beverley, History of Virginia (London, 1722), p. 177 sj.;
Dapper, Description, ie I'Afrique, p. 268.
,' Svhoolcraft, Ind. Tr., v. 683.
• Mr Cushing io Centvri) Magazine, May 1*83.
' See SACBiFicf;, vol. xii. p. 137. ,,. _
,J Herod., ii. 39. ' Fison and Howiit, 1&4, -ZOl'sq., Hb, 235.
The Euliii tnbe in Vintona, in addition to sixteen clan totems,
has two pairs of sex totems; one pair (tlie emu-wren uud superb
warbler) is identical with the ICuniai p.iir, the other pair is the
b.it (male totem) and the small night jar (female totem). The
latter pair extends, to the extreme uorth-wcstern confines of Vic«
toria as the ''man's brother" and the "woman's sister."*^ The
Ta-t.a thi gi-oup of tribes in New South Wales, in addition to regu-
lar clan totems, has a pair of sex totems, the bat for men and a
small owl for women ; men and 'women address carh other a^ OwU
and Bala; and theie is a hglit if a woman kills a l^at or a man kills
a.scia!l owl.u Of some Vi-'loriau tribes it is said that " tke cocimoc
bat belongs to the mc*o,v.l,o protect it against iujui-y. even to the
half killing of their wives for its sake. The fernowl, or large goat-
.sucker, belongs to the women, .•>.iiJ, although a bird of evil omen,
creating I'error atnight by its ciy, it i.s jealou.sly protected by them.
If a man kills one, they arc as much enraged as if it was one o{
their children, and will strike him with their long poles.""
The sex totem seems to be still more sacred than the
clan totein ; for men who do not object to other people
killing their clan totem will fiercely defend their sex toteia
against any attempt of the opposite ses to injure it.'^
Individual Totems. — It is not only the clans and thelndl.,
sexes that have totems ; individuals also have their own rt^»8l,
special totems, i.e., classes of objects (generally species of '"'^^
animals), which they regard as related to themselves by
those ties of mutual respect and protection which are
characteristic of totemism. This relationship, however, in
the case of the individual totem, begins and ends with the
individual maUj and is not, like the clan totem, transmitted
by inheritance. The evidence for the existence .of indi-
vidual totems in Australia, though conclusive, is very
scanty. In Xorth America it is abundant.
In Australia we heir of a medicine-ma'n whose clai: totem through
bis mother was kanganw, but whose "secret" (i.e.; individual)
totem was the tigcr.snake. .^nakesof that species, therefore, would
not hurt hira " An .Xnstralian se^ms usually to ^et his individual
totem by dreaming that he has been trausfonned into an animal of.
the species. Thus a man dreamed tlirce-tiraes he was a kangaroo;
hence he became one of the kangaioo liijidrcd, and might not eart
any part of a kaiig.iroo on which th<Te was blotjd ; he might not
even carry home oik* nn wluch there was bloo*l. He mi^ht eat
cookei?kan^'aroo; but, if h" were to eat the meat with th9- blood on
it, the spirits would no longer Take him up aloft" .'
In Am«it--a the individual totem is usually the first animal of,
which a youth dreams during the long and generally solitary fast^
wluch American Indians o!»serve at puberty. He kill^ the ar.imal-
01 bird of which he ilreams. and henceforward wears its ekin or!
fe.Tthers, or some part of them, as an auiulet, especially on the^
warpath and in hunting '* A man may even (though this seems
exceptional) acquire several totems in this way; thus an Ottawa
rnedh ine.man had for his individiial totems the tortoise, 8waD,j
wood(»ecker, and crow, because lie bad dreaired of them all In his
fast at (Hiberty. The re5:pei:t paid to the individual totem varies
ill *litrerent tribes. Among the Slave, Hare, and D'ogrib Indians
a man may not eat, skin, nor if possible kill his individual totem^
which in these tribes is s-iid to be always a carnivorous animah;
EacIi mau carries with him a picture >A his totem (bought of a'
trader); when he is unsuccessful in tli£ chase, he pulls out the'
picture, smokes to it, and luakes it a ?j>cech."
The Indians of Cana '.i changed their okki or manitoo (indivi-*
dual totem) if they had riason to lie dis^tisHcd with it.; their womeuj
had also their okkis or maiutoos, but did not pay so much heed to;
them as did the men They tattooed thcH individual totems on their
persons '• Amongst l)..*Itidian3 of S»n Juan Capistrauo, a figure
of the lodividujl totem, which was acquired as usual by fasting,
was moulded io a |i^..sle made of crushed herbs on the right arm
of the novice. Fire wa.s then set to it, and thus the figwre of
the totem was burned into the flesh." S^xnclimes the individual
totem is not acquired by the individual himself at puberty, but is
'? J. A. I , XI p. 416 ; // nil p 50". J
" Ibid , xiv 350. " Daw^oD, j1 '/jYrfl.';(2n AhorigiTies, p. 52.
" J A. /., xiv p. 35ft " Va.1.. XVI. p .W. " Ihid., 45.
** Catlin, JV Atr,£T. Indians, i. p 36 57., Schoolcraft, Ind. Tr., v..
p. 196; Id., Atner. Ind-, p. 213; Sproat, &^ncs and Sttuliiso/Savage
Life, p. 173 sq.; Bincroft. i 283 sq ; Id , iii. 156: MavTie, Bril.
Coltmb , p. 302, P. J..i,e6, Hisl Ojebxcay lid., p. il sq.,'kc.
'^ Anniiat Hejtort of the Smithsonian InstitutioA for 1SG6, p. 507.
^® Charlevoix, Hist', dt la Souv. Fr., vi. 67 59. The word ot:^-i is
Huron ; marUtoo is Algonk'in {tbid. ; Sagard, Le grand Voyagedujiayt
dcs Hurons, p. 231).
" Boscana in A. Robinson's Lift in California, pp. 270 sg., 273;'
Bancroft, i. 414, iii. 167 sq.
472
T 0 T E M I S M
fixed for him ind-'pendeEtly of his will at bijth. Thus anjong
the tribes of the istbmus of Tefauantepec, tvhen a woman was about
to be confined, the relations assembled in the hut and drew ou the
floor figures of difVrent animals, ribbing each one out as soon as
it was finished. This went on tiU the child was born, and the figure
that then remained sketched on the ground was the child's toiui or
totem- When he grew older the chUd procured his totem animal
and took care of il, bcliering that his life was bound up with the
ppimal's, and that when it died he too must die.^ Similarly in
Samoa, at child-lirth the help of several "gods" was invoked in
succession, and the one who happened to be addressed at the
moment of the b r^.h was the infant's totem. These "gods "were
|dogs, eels, shark;-, lizards, &c A Samoan had no objection to eat
another cnan's " /.od " ; but to eat his o^vn would have been death
or injury to him ' Sometimes the okk-is or maijtoos acquired by
dreams are not totems but fetiches, being not rla.-.scs of olycts but
■^diWdual objeCs, such as a particuiir tree, rock, knife, pipf, kc'
Besides tbe clan totem, sex totem, and inilividual totem,
there are (as has been indicated) some other luiids or
varieties of totems; bat the consideration of- them had
better be deferred till after the consideration of the social
organization based on totemism.
Blood Social Asp^i of Totemism, or the relation of the men of
feed., g lijif^ to each other and to men of other totems. — (1) All
the members of a totem clan regaxd each other as kins-
men or brothers and sisters, and are bound to help and
protect each other. The totem bond is stronger than the
bond of blood or family in the modern sense. This is ex-
pressly stated of the clans of western Aostralia and of
north-western America,' and is probably true of all societies
where totemism exists in full force. Hence in totem tribes
every local group, being necessarily composed (owing to
exogamy) of members of at least two totem clans, is liable
to be dissolved at any moment into its totem elements by
the outbreak of a blood feud, in which husband and wife
must always (if the feud is between their clans) be arrayed
on opposite sides, and in which the children will be arrayed
against either their father or their mother, according as de-
scent is traced through the mother or through the father.l
•In blood feud the whole clan of the aggressor is responsible
for his deed, and the wbole clan of the aggrieved is entitled
to satisfaction.^ Nowhere perhaps Is this solidarity carried
farther than among the Goajiros Ln Colombia, South Ame-
rica. The Goajiros are divided into some twenty to thirty
totem clans, with descent in the female line ; and amongst
them, if a man happens to cut himself with his own knife,
to fall off his horse, or to injure himself in any way, his
family on the mother's side immediately demand payment
'as blood-money from him. " Being of their blood, he is
not allowed to spill it without paying for It." ^His father's
;fami!y also demands compensation, but not so muck'
Efo-, (2) Exogamy. — Persons of the same totem may not
KMoy- marry or have sexoal intercourse with each other. The
Navajos believe that if they married within the cian
''their bones would dry up and they would die."* But
the penalty for infringing this fundamental law is not
merely natural ; the clan stops in aud punishes the offenders.
In Australia the regular penalty for sexual intercourse with
a person of a forbidden chin is death.
It matters not whether the woman be of the same local group or
has been captured in w^r from anoiher tr.be ; a nian of the wrong
' Binrroft, i. 661. ^ ' Turner, S<moa, 17.
^ Lafitiu, ^JvHTsths ^uvfj^es A^nrnijihit'ns, i. 370 57 ; Charlevoix,
Hif-t df la Xouv. Fr , vi 68 ; K'ihl. K^lcln r.ami, L 85 sq
* Grey, .tour., n. J.'il . fttpml •,/ ll.r Sm:thsonian Inst, for 1HG6,
p. 315; Pclrnff. Urp. pti aI'IsI.", p. 165. Other authorities speak
to thft fitipcrioriiy of the totem bond over the tribal bond (Morgan,
Leagw 0/ the Iroqvms, p. 82 ; Mayno, Brit. Cnlwnb., p. 257 ,
American. Anliqvarian, 11 p 109).
• Grey, Jminnls. ii. 230, 238 sq ; Smtt/isonian Rep., tec. cU.
.• Fi<:on and Howitt. 15()S7., 216 sj. Sometimes the two clans meet
ind settle it by single combat between picked champions {Jour, and
Proc. /). Soc. A'. 5. Wales, 1882, p. 226).
1' Simons ill Pruc. R. Genir. 5«-., Dec. 1885, p. 789 ij.
i." Bourke. SnnheDanct 0/ the Moiuii qf Ariiana, \^. 279.
clao who uses her as his wifo is hunted down and killed by his
clansmen, and so is the woman ; though in some cases, if tbey suc-
ceed in eluding capture for a certain time, the offence may he con-
doned. In the Ta-ta-thi tribe, New Soutli Wales, in the rare
c.nses which'Occur, the man is killed but the v.oman is only beateu
or speared, or both, till she is nearly dead ; the reason given for not
actually kilUng her being that she was probably coerced. Even in
casual amours the clan prohibitions are strictly observed ; any
violations of these prohibitions "arc regarded with the utmost
abhorrence and are punished by death."' An important exceptiou
to these rules, if it is correctly reported, is that of the V-.'l Liucolo
tribe, which is dinded into two cljns, Mattiri and liarraru, and it
is said that though persons of the same <:lan never marr>", yet " they I
do not seem to consider less virtuous conncxious between parties of
the same class [clan] incestuous."'" Again, of the tnbes on the
lower Murray, lower Darlini;, &c.. it is said that though the slight-
est blwd relationship is with them a barto marnage. yet in their
sexual intercourse they are perfectly free, and incest of every grade
continually occurs *'
In America the Algonkins consider it highly criminal
for a man to marry a woman cf the same totem as himself,'
and they teli of cases where men, for breaking this rule,
have been put to death by their nearest relations.'^
In some tribes the marriage prohibition <inly extends to Phratnea.
a man's own totem clan ; he may marry a wotnan of any
totem but his own. This is the case with the Haidas of
the Queen Charlotte Islands,'^ and, so far as appears, the
Namnyeri in South Australia,'- and the western Aus-
tralian tribes described by Sir George Grey." Oftener,'
however, the prohibition includes several clans, in none of
which is a man allowed to marry. For such an e-Togamous
group of clans within the tribe it is convenient to have a
name ; we shall therefore call it a phratry {L. EL ilorgan),
defining it as an exogamous division intermediate between
the tribe and the clan. The evidence goes»to show that
in many cases it was originally a totem clan which has
undergone siitidivision.
The Choctaws, for example, were divided into two phratries, American
each 01 which included four clans; marriage was prohibited be- phr&triea.
tween members of the same phratry, but members of either phratry
could marry into any clan of the other '® The Seneca tribe of
the Iroquois was divided into two phratnes, each including four
clans, — tbe Bear, Wolf, Beaver, and Turtle clans forming one
phratry, and the Deer, Snipe. Heron, and Hawk clans forming the
other. Originally, afiamong the Choctaws, marriage was prohibited
within the phratry but was permitted »-ith any of the clans of
the other phratry ; the prohibition, however, ba^ n*5w broken down,;
and a Seneca may marr>* a woman of any clan but his own. Hence
phratries. in our sense, no longer exist among the Senecas, though
the organutation survive.* lor certain religious and social purposes.''
The phratries of the Thlink*'l3 and the Mohcgans deserve especial
attention, because each phratry bears a name which is also the
name of one of ihecl.ans included in iL The Thlinkets are divided
as follows : — Rd^'en phratry, with clans Itaven, Frog, Goose, Sea-!
Lion, 0>v|. Salmon ; Wolf phratry, with clans Wolf, Bear, Eagle,'
Whale, Shark, Auk. Members of the Raven phratry most marry
members of the Wolf phratry, and vux versa^^ Cousidcring the
prominent parts playea in Thlinliet mi-lhology by the ancestors of
the two phratnes, and considering that the names of the phratries
-are also names of clans, it seems probable that the Raven and
Wolf were the two original clans of tne ThUnkets, which afterwards
by subdivision became phmtries. This w.is the opinion of the
Russian .missionary Veniaminolf. the bfst early authority on tbe
tnbe '* Still more clearly do the Mohcgan phratries appear to
have tteeu formed by subdivision from clans. They are as follows ; •
— Wolf phratrj-, with clans Wolf. Bdr, Dog, Opossum; Turtle
' Howitl in Rrp. 0/ Smithsonian /nst for ISS3, p 80J ; Fisos and
H.«>ntl. pp 6*-67, 289, 344 sq.. J A. I., XIV. p. 351 sq
'" .Va(. Tr. o/S Australia, p 222
" your and Proc. H. Sor A'. 5. Wai'-s, 1883, p. 24 ;" Trauattumt
*>f the Royal Society of Victoria, vi p. 16.
" James in Tanner's Sarr., p. 313.
" Ofol Sur. 0/ Canada, H.j, fur JS7S-79, p. 134B.
" iVnJ. Tr. 0/ S A'LSlr., p. }2 , J. A. /., JOL p. iG.
" Orey, Jour., 11. p 226.
" Arclurolugia. Americana, Trans. andColUU. Atitric. Antiq. Sfc^
vol. 11 p 109, Moi^nn. A S , pp. 99, 162.
" MuriMii. n/i eil , pp 90, 94 sq.
" A Krause, D:e Tlmkil /ndiarurr, 112, 220; Hotobei^, op. at;
293, 313. Piuart in Bull. Soc Anthrop. Parit, 7tb Nov. 1872. f,,
792 «9 ; I'etrotr, fUp on 4.laaka, p. 165 S9. *
" Petroff, r,j.. cit, p.l66. ■ ' ™ Moisau, ^ 174.
TOTEMISM
473
phratTT, whh claps Little Turtle, Jtud Tnrtle, Great Turtle. Yellow
Eel ; Turkey phratry, with clans Turkey, Crane, Chicken. Here
we nre almost forced to conclude that the Turtle phratry was origin-
ally a Turtle clan which, subdivided into a number of clans, each
of which took the name of a particular kind of turtle, while the
Yellow Eel clan may have beeu a later subdivision. Thus we get
a probable explanation of the ongin of split totems; they seem to
have arisen by the segmentation of a single original clan, which
had a whole animal for its totem, into a number of clans, each of
whicii took the name either of a part of the original animal or of a
subspecies if it. We may conjecture that this was the orijnn of
the Grey Wolf and Yellow Wolf and Great Turtle and Little Turtle
clans 6f the Tnscarora- Iroquois,' the Black Eagle and White E.Tgle
and the Deer and Deer-Tail clans ot the Kaws;^ and of the Highland
Turtle (stri|ied), Highland Turtle (black). Mud Turtle, and Smooth
Large Turtle clans of the Wyandots (Hurons).' Warren actually
states that, the numerous Beiir clan of the Ojibways was formerly
subdivided into subclans, c.ich of which took for its totem some
part of the Bear's body (he.id, foot, ribs &a), but that these have
now merged into two, the Common Bear and the Grizzly Bear.*
The subdivision of the Turtle (Tortoise) clan, which on this hypo-
thesis has taken place among the Tuscarora-Iroquoid, is nascent
unong the Onondaga-Iroquois, for among them "the name of this
dan IS Hahnowa, which is the general word for tortoise; but the
clan is divided into two septs or subdivisions, the Hauyatengooa,
or Great Tortoise, and the Kikahnowaksa, or Little Tortoise, which
together are held to constitute but one clan.*'*
On the other hand, fusion of clans is known to have
taken place, as among the Haidas, where the Black Bear
and Fin-Whale clans have united ;^ and the same thing has
happened to some extent among the Omahas and Osages.'
Auj- In Australia the phratnes are still more important than
''*''*° in America. Messrs Howitt and Fison, who have done
ptintne*. ^^ much to advance our knowledge of the social system of
the Australian aborigines, have given to these exogamous
divisions the name of classes ; but the term is objection-
able, because it fails to convey (1) that these divisions are
kinship divisions, and ("2) that they are intermediate
divisions ; whereas the Greek term phratry conveys both
these meanings, and is therefore appropriate.
We have seen examples of Australian tribes in which
members of any clan are free to marry members of any
clan bat their own , but such tribes appear to be excep-
tionaL Oiten an Australian tribe is divided into two
(exogamous) phratnes, each of which includes under it a
number of totem clans ; and oftener still there are sub-
pbratries interposed between the phratry and the clans,
each phratry including two subphratries, and the sub-
phratries including totem clans. We will take examples
of the former and simpler organization first.
The Turra tribe in Yorke Peninsula, South Australia, is divided
into two phratrics, Wiltu (Eaglehawk) and MCdta (Seal). The
Eaglehawk phratry includes ten totem clans (Wombat, Wallaby,
Kangaroo, Iguana, Wombat-Snake, Bandicoot, Black Bandicoot,
Crow, Rock Wallaby, and -Emu); and the Seal phratry includes
fix ( Wild Goose, Butterfish, Mullet, Schnapper, Shark, and Salmon).
The p'aratries are of course exogamous, but (as with the Choctaws,
Mohegan, and, so far as appears, all the American phratries) auy
clan of the one phratry may intermarry with any clan of the other
phratry.' Bat the typical Australian tribe is divided into two
exogamous phratries; each of these phratrics is subdivided into
two subphratries; and these subphratnes are subdivided into an
indefinite number of totem clans. The pliratries being exogaiuous,
it follows that their subdivisions (the subphratnes and claus) ,ire
eo also. The jffell-known Kamilaroi tri'oe in New South Wales
will serve as a£ example. Its subdivisions are as follows . " —
Phiumes. Sn&phratrlea.
Totem Cans.
i t
KnplWn. { [P^it^. {
Kangaroo, Opossnm, Unndicoot. Padiniclon,
IgOAna, Black Duck, EnglflinM-k. Scrub
Turkey. VeUow-i-"Uh, Honey-Fii/i, Bream.
Emu, CLfpct-SnakP, LlRck Snako, fiL-d K.-xii-
Karoo. H&ney, Walirroo. f rug, Cod-Fish.
' Morgan, op. cit . p. 73. ' Morgan, p. 150. ' First liep.,f.
• G>lUclions of the Minnesota Histcmcal Soneti/, v. p. 49.
• H. Hale, Tfii Irorpims Book of Rites, p. 53 sq.
• Geol. SuTV. of Canada. Rep. for 1S7S-7U. p. 134b.
' Third Rip., p. 235, Ainerican A'alural'ii. xviii. p.
• Fison and Howitt, p. 285. ' J. A 1., xii.
" Corresponding female forms are made bj .adding Via to these male
: Mttii— Matb-t (for Muritha), Kubi— Kubilha, kc ,
114.
500.
In such tribes the freedom of marriage is still more curtailed.
A subphratry is not free to marry mto either subphratry of tbfl
other phratry ; each subphratry is restricted in its choice of partners
to one subphratry of the other phratry ; Muri can only marry
Kumbo, and vice rcrsa ; Kubi can only marry Ijiai, and via versa.
Hence (supposing the tribe to be equally distributed between the
phratries and subphratries), whereas under the two phratry and
clan system a man is free to choose a wife from half the women of
the tribe, under the phratry, subphratry, and clan system he is
restricted in his choice to one quarter of the women.
A remarkable feature of the Australian social organiza-
tion is that divisions of one tribe have their recognized
equivalents in other tribes, whose languages, includiag the
names for the tribal divisions, are quite different. A
native who travelled far and wide through Australia stated
that " he was furnished with temporary wives by the
various tribes with whom he sojourned in his travels ; that
his right to these women was recognized as a matter of
course ; and that he could always ascertain whether they
belonged to the division into which he could legally marry,
' though the places were 1000 miles apart, and the lan-
guages quite different.' " i' Again, it is said that " ia cases
of distant tribes it can be shown that the class divisions
correspond with each other, as for instance in the classes
of the Flinders river and ^Iitchell river tribes ; and these
tribes are separated by 400 miles of country, and by many
intervening tribes. But, for all that, class corresijonds to
class in fact and in meaning and in privileges, although
the name may be quite different and the totems of each
dissimilar."'- Particular information, however, as to the
equivalent divisions is very scanty.'^ This systematic cor-
respondence between the intermarrying divisions of distinct
and distant tribes, with the rights which it conveys to the
members of these divisions, points to sexual communism
on a scale to which there is perhaps no parallel elsewhere,
certainly not in North America, where marriage is always
within the tribe, though outside the clan.'* But even in
Australia a man is always bound to marry within a certain
kinship group ; that group may extend across the whole
of Australia, but nevertheless it is exactly limited and
defined. If endogamy is used in the sense of prohibition
to marry outside of a certain kinship group, whether that
group be exclusive of, inclusive of, or identical with the
man's own group, then marriage among the totem societies
of Australia, America, and India is both exogamous and
endogamous ; a man is forbidden to marry either within
his own clan or outside of a certain kinship group."
(3) Rides of Descent. — In a large majority of the totem
tribes at present known to ns in Australia and North
A.merica descent is in the female line, i.e., the children
belong to the totem clan of their mother, not to that of
their father. In Australia the proportion of tribes with
female to those with male descent is as four to one ; in
America it is between three and two to one.
As to the totem tribes of Atnca. descent among the Damaras is
in the female line," and there are traces of female kin among the
Bechuanaa" Among the Bakalai property descends in the mala
line, but this is not a conclusive proof that descent is so reckoned;
all the cl.ins la the neighbourhood of the Eakalai have female
descent both for blood and jiroperty.'* In Bengal, where there is a
considerable body of totem tribes, Mr Risley says that after careful
search he and his coadjutors have found no tribe with female
descent, and only a single trace of it in one," Among the totem
Equiva-
lence
of Aus-
tralian
tribal
divisions
Rnlesof
descenU
" Fison and Howitt. p. 53 sq. ; cf. Brough Smyth, i.p. 9L
'= J A. I , xiii. p. 300.
" For a few particulars see Fison and Howitt, 38, 40; Erough
Smjth, 11. 28S; J. A. I , xui. 304, 308, 346. liv. 348 sq., 351.
" Fi-.st Rep., p. 63. Between North-American tribes "there were
CO mtermarriages, no social iiitjr. oarse, no intermingling of any kind,
except that of mortal strife " (Dodge, Our Wild Indians', p. 45).
" Cf. First Rep., loc. cit.. As. Quart. Rev., July 1886, p. 89 s.7.
'^ Anderson, Lake iVaaim, p. 221.
>' Casalis, TIte Basiitcs, p. 179 s.7.
'» Du Chaillu, Jouniey to Ashar.go Land, 4-29 ; Id., Eqitat. Afr.,
808 SQ. " As. Quart Kev., July 1886, p. 94.
XXIU — 60
£3— 18»
474
T O T E M I S M
tribes of Beogal descent is male.^ In Assam the exogamous totem
rlans of the Kasias have female descent,^ as albo have the exogamous
clans of the Garo3, but it does not appear whetlier their clans are
totem clans, though some of their legends point to totemism.^
Indirect In the Australian tribal organization of two phratries,
descent, four subphratries, and totem clans, there occurs a peculiar
form of descent of which uo plausible explanation has yet
boen offered. It seems that in all tribes thus organized
the children are burn into the subphratry neither of their
father nor of their mother, and that descent in such cases
is either female or male, according as the subphratry into
which the children are born is the companion subphratry
of their mother's or of their father's subphratry. In the
former case we have what may be called indirect female
descent , in the latter, indirect male descent. But it is
only in the subphratry that descent is thus indirect. In
the totem clan it is always direct ; the child belongs to
the clan either of its mother or of its father. Thus, in the
typical Australian organization, descent, whether female
or male, is direct in the phratry, indirect in the sub-
phratry, and direct in the clan.
To take examples, the following is the scheme of descent, so far
as the phratries and siihphratnes are concerned, in the Kamilaroi —
Dilbi. ■{
Eiipalhin <
Male.
Muri.
Kubl.
Ipai
Kumbo.
Manies
Kumbo.
I pal
K u bi .
Muri
Chililreii arc
Ipal.
K limbo
Mun.
Kubl.
This is an example of indirect female descent, hecause the child-
ren belong to the companion subphratry of their mother, not to
the cunipanion .stil'pliratry of th<.-ir father But in the totems the
iemalc descent is direct ; c 3 , if the faliier Is Mun-Kangaroo and
the mother is KumboEmu. the children will be Ipai-Emu ; if the
mother is Knmho-Bundiooot. the children will be Ipai-Bandiooot.^
The tbllou-ing is the scheme of descent in the Kiabara tribe:*—
Pbnunes.
Male,
Mnii'ies
Cliildrcn aic
DUebl. 1
Cu^atiQe. j
During.
Turowine.
Buloin.
Biindah.
Pimdab.
Biilcoin,
Tuiv^w.ne.
Daring
Turnwinc.
Baiinc.
Bundah.
DuJtoio.
Til is is an ex.imple of indiroct male desceot, because the children
beloD^ to the com|i.inion subphratry of their father, not to the
companiou subphratry of their mother. Wc have no information
as to the totems, but on the analogy of indirect female descent we
shcuhl expect them to lie taken from the father. Tliis at any rate
is true of a harnc tribe or g'o^P "' trilpcs to the south of the Gu'.f
of Car[)entaria ; their rules of marriaj^cand descent, so far as concerns
the suhpliratnes. are like those of tiie Kiabara, and the totems
(which at the lower Leichhardt river are tlie names of fish) a;c
inherited from father to son.^
In some Atistralian tribes sons take their totems from their
father and daiii;hters from their mollier. Thus tlie Dieri in South
Australia are diviiied into two phratries, each of which includes
under it sixteen totem clans, (Caterpillar, Mullet, Dog, Rat,
Kangaroo, Frog, Crow, &c );' and if a Dog man marries a Rat
woman, the sons of tliis marriage are Dogs and the daughters "are
Rats ' The Ikula (Morning Star) tribe, at the head of the Great
Australian Bight, has, with certain exceptions, the same nile of
descent.'
rraosi- Besides the tribes whose line of de.icent is defitiitely
tionlrom fi^ed ill the female or male line, or, as with the Dieri ond
•I'roale ^''"'^' l^alf way between the two, there are a number of
iescenU tribes among whom a child may be entered in either his
mother's or his father's clan. Among the Haidas, children
regularly belong to the totem clan of their mother; hut
in very exceptional cases, when the clan of the father is
reduced in numbers, the newly-born child may be given
• jis. Quart. Iter , .July 18S6, p. 9i.
" DaltoD, Ellm.n/licnn.,jt.5esg.: W. W Hunter, Statistical Ac-
cminl of Assam-, ii. p. 217 sq,
' D.ilton, op. cit.. 60, 63; Hunter, op. cil., ii. 154 sq.
• Fison and Howitt, p. 37 sq.; J. A. /., xiii. 335, 341, 344.
' J. A. I., xiii. 336, 341. 6 Ibid., xii. 504.
Ibul.. xii. 500. 8 Letter of Mr S. Gason to the present writer.
• /. «l. /., xii 509.
to the father's sister to suckle. It is then spoken of as
belonging to the paternal aunt, and is counted to its
father's clan.'" Among the Delawares descent is regularly
in the female line ; but it is possible to transfer a child to
its father's clan by giving it one of the names which are
appropriated to the father's clan." In the Hervey Islands,
South Pacific, the parents settled beforehand whether the
child should belong to the father's or mother's clan. The
father usually had the preference ; but sometimes, when the
father's clan was one which was bound to furnish human
victims from its ranks, the mother had it adopted into her
clan by having the name of her totem (ironounced over it.'*
In Samoa at the birth of a child the father's totem was usu-
ally prayed to first; but if the birth was tedious, the mother's
totem was invoked , and whichever happened to be invoked,
at the moment of birth was the child's totem for life."
When a North American tribe is on the march, the members of
each tutem clau camp together, and the clans arc .arranged lu a
6xed order in camp, the whole tribe being dr»-ange>l in a great
circle or in several concentric circles. '* When the tribe lives in
settled villages or towns, each clan has its separate ward '*
The cbiis of the Osages are divided into war clans and peace clans ,
when li.ey .iie out on the biillalo hunt, they camp on opposite sides
of the tribal circle, and the peace clans are not allowed to take
.ininial life of any kind , they must therefore live on vc-ietables
unless thev can oiitain meat in- exchange for vegetables from the
warclans.^'' Members of the same clan are buried together and
apart from those of other clans; hence the remains of husband
aud wife, belonging as they do to separate clans, do not rest
together *' It is remaikable that among the Thiinkets the bodj
must always be carried to the funeral pyre and burned by men of
ariother totem. '^ and the presents distributed on those occasions by
the representatives of the deceased must always bo made to men
of a dilferent clan.'^
Here we must revert to the religious side of totemism,
in order to consider some facts which have emerged from
the study of its social aspect. We have seen that some
phratries, both in America and Australia, btar the names
of animals;^" and in the case of the Thiinkets and Mohegans
we have seen reason to believe that the animals .vbich
give their names to the phratries were once clan totems.
The same seems to hold of the names of the Australian
phratries, Eaglehawk, Crow, and Seal, or at least of Eagle-
hawk and Crow, for lhe.se are clan totems in other tribes,
and are, besides, important figures in Australian mytho-
logy. Indeed, there appears to be direct evidence that both
the phratries and subphratnes actually retain, at least in
some tribes, their totems. Thus the Port Mackay tribe in
Queensland is divided into two phratries, Yuiigaru and
Wutaru, with subphratries Gurgela, Burbia, VVuugo, and
Kubera; and the Yungaru phratry has for its totem the
alligator, and Wutaru the kangaroo,^' while the sub-
phratries have for their totems the emu (or the carpet '
snake), iguana, opossum, and kangaroo (or scrub turkey).^
'" Geol Sun. of Canada. Rep. for 1S78-79, p. 134D.
" .Morgan. A. S., -p. 172 sq.
" Gill, jVylhs and Songs of the Smith Pacific, p. 36.
" Turner, Sa^noa, p. 78 sq. The child might thus be transferred
to a clan which was that neither of his father nor of his mother,
" First Rsp., 64; Third ftip., 219; Avt^. Naturalist, xviii. 113
" Gatschet, Migration Legend of the Creek Indians, 154 ; Bourke,
Snake Dance, 229; Aoad., 27th Sept. 1884, p. 203.
*** Rev. J. Owen Dorsey in American Naturalist, xviii. p, 113.
" Adair, Hist. AmtY. Ind , 183,'j.; Morgan, A.S., 83 sq.; Brinton,
The Lf nape and their Legends, 54; Id., Myths of the Nf.w Worlds
87 n ; A. Hodgson, Letters from North America, i. p. 259 ; Dalton,
Eth. of Beng., 56 ; cf. Robertson Smith, Kinship and Marriagt
in Early Arabia, 315 sq. ^^ Holmberg, op. cit., 324.
'» Krause, Die Tlinkit-Indianer, 223.
^^ As among the Chickasas, Thiinkets, and Mohegans. in America^
and the Turra, Ngarego, and-Theddora tribe.s in Australia. Tae sub-
phcitries of the Ki.abara also bear animal names.
-' Fison and Howitt. 38 sq., 40.
'^ Fison and Howitt, p. 41. The totem's of the phratries and sub-
phratries are given by different authorities, who wTitethe native names
of the subphratries dilVercntly. But they seem to be speaking of the
Same tribe; at le^st Mr Fisoa understands them so.
Arrange-
ment of
clans <^D
thi,iiai-cb.
Phratrtc
and sub-
phratrk
totems.
TOTEMISM
475
Sub-
As the siibpuratries of this tribe are said to be equivalent
to the ^ubphratriea of the Kamilaroi, it seems to follow
that the subphratries o| the Kamilaroi (Muxi, Kubi, Ipai,
and Kumbo) have or once had totems also. Hence it ap-
peals that ia tribes' organized ia. phratries, subphratries,
^^d claos each man has three totems-^his pkratry totem,
his subphratry totem, and his clan totem. If we add a
Bex totem and an individual totem, each man in tl^e typical
Austrahan tribe has five distinct kindj of totems. What
degree of allegiance hp owes to his subphratry totem and
phratry totem respectively we are not told ; indeed, the
very existence of such totS'ins, as distinct from dan totems,
appears to have been generally overlooked. But we may
suppose that the totem bond diminishes ia strength in
proportion to its extension; that therefore the clan totem
ia the primary tie, of which tjo subphratry and phratry
totems are successively weakened repetitions.
In these totems superposed on totems may perhaps be
discerned a rudimentary classification of natural objects
under heads which bear a certain resemblance to genera,
species. Sic This classification is by some Australian tribes
extended so as to include the. whole of nature. Thus the
Fort Mackay tribe in Queensland (see above) divides all
nature between the phratries ; the wind belongs to one
phratry and the rain to another ; the sun is Wutaru and
.he moon ia Yungarn ; the stars, trees, and plants are also
divided between the phratries.* As the totem of Wutaru
is kangaroo and of Yungaru alligator, this is equivalent to
making the sun a kangaroo and the moon en alhgator.
T!ie Mount Gauibier tribe in South Australia is divided into two
phratries ( Kumi and Kroki), which again are subdivided into totem
claos. EverytluDg in nature belongs to a totem clan, thus; • — ,
Phratries.
Tftem Odns.
Including
Kami. •
Kroki.
l.S!ula= Fish-Hawk.
?. Paroagals Pelican.
3. W5 = Crow.
4, Wna=BIack Cockatoo.
1. W£rto=Tea-Tree.
2. Murna=An edible RCot.
3. EarMl=Blackcres:les3Ccck-
■too.
Srr.oke, honeysucfcJe, trees, ic.
/ Do^s, blackwood trees, Are. frost
\ {f«;m.)
/Rain, thunder, lightnmg. winter,
\ hailvclouda, <lc.
Stars, moon, Ac.
/ Fish, stringybark trees, seals,
\ eels. Ac
Ducks, wallabies, owis, CTdv-fish. Ac
/ BusUrds. quails, doWlch <ii small
1 kangaroo).
/ Kangaroo, she-oak irecs^. sammcr.
\ sun, autumn (fem >,wind (fern )
With reference to this classification Mr D. S. Stewart, the
fcuthority for it, says, " I have tried in vain to find some re.ison for
the arrangement. I asked, *To what division does a bullock
belong?' After a pause camo the answer, 'It cats grass: it is
Boortvterio." I then said, 'A cray-fish does not eat grass; why is
it Boortwerio?' Then came the. standing reason for all puzzling
qaeations : ' That Is what oar fathers said it was. ' " ' The natural
objects thus classed nnder and ahario" the respect due to the totem
may be conveniently called, as Mr Howitt proposes,* subtotems.
Again, the Wotjoballufc tribe in north-western Victoria has a system
of subtotems, thus :' —
SabU)t£in9.
(I 1. Hot Wind.
■< I 2. Whtu creiitless Cockatoo.
( 3. Belonging to the Sun.
1 1 4.Desf Adder.
, J' 5. DIack Cockatoo.
(1 6, FeVlan.
Each totem hu subonilnate to It
a Dumber of objects, animal or
vegelalj^e, e.g., kangaroo, red
gnm^ree, Ac
Do.
Of the subtotems in this tribe Mr Howitt says, "They appear to/
"toe to be totems in a state of development. Hot wind has at least
five of them, white cockatoo has seventeen, and so OB for the others.
That these subtotems are now in process of gaining a sort of inde-
pendence may be shown by the following instance; a man who is
Krokitch- Wartwut (hot wind) claimed to own all the five subtotems
of hot wind (three snakes and two birds), yet of these there was
one which he specially claimedas 'belonging' to him, namely,
Moiwuk (carpet-snake). Thus his totem, hot wind, seems to have
been in process of subdivision into minor totems, and this man's
' Brough Snijth,. i. 91
xiiL 300.
• Fisoo and Howitt, loc. ciL
• • In Snitlumi..Jiep:/or i&W. r 8)8
Fison aud.^ Howitt, 168 ; c/. J. A. I.,
' Fisnn and Howitt, 169.
' ibid.
Ism.
divLsioii might Jiave bccomu hot wind carpet-snake had not
civilization, rudely sto|>(<od the process by almost extinguishing
the tribe"
Gcograpliical Di/usioK of Totemism. — In Australia Diffusion
totemism is almost universal*" In North America it may °/J*"'°'
be roughly said to prevail, or have prevailed, among all the
tribes east of the Rocky Mountains,^ and among all the
Indian (but not thu Eskimo) tribes on the north-west coast
as far south as the United States frontier. On the other
hand, highly competent authorities have failed to find it
among the tribes of western \Vashington, north-western
Oregon, and California.* In Panama it exists apparently
among the Guaymies : .each tribe, family, and individual
has a guardian animal, the most prevalent being a kind of
parrot.* ■ In South America totemism is found among ihe
Qoajiros on the borders*of Colombia and Venezuela, "^ the
Arawaks in Guiana," the Bosch negroes also in Guiapa,''
and the Patagonians.'^ Finding it at such distant points of
the continent, ■we should expect it to be widely prevalent ;
but, with our meagie knowledge of the South American
Indjans, this is merely conjecture. The aborigines of Peru
and the Salivas on the Orinoco believed in the descent of
their tribes from animals, plants, and natural objects, such
as the sun and earth ; '^ but this, though a presumption, is
not a proof of totemism. -»'
In Africa totemism prevails in Senegambia, among the
Bakalai on the equator, on the Gold Coast and in Ashantee,
and among the Damaras and Bechuanas in southern Africa."
There are traces of totem.ism elsewhere in Africa. Ip east-
ern Africa the Gallas are divided into two exogaraous sec-
tions, and have certain forbidden foods."' In Abyssinia
certain district^ or families will not eat of certain animals
or parts of animals." The territory of the Hosas in Mada-
gascar is divided and subdivided into districts, the names
of the subdivisions referring " rather to clans and divi-
sions of people than to place." One of these names is " the
powerful bird," i.e., either the eagle or the vulture. The
same clan is found occupying separate districts.'* One
Jladagascar tribe regard a species of lemur as " an embodi-
ment of the spirit of their ancestors, and therefore they
look with horror upon killing them." Other ifalagasy
tribes and families refrain from eating pigs and goatS)
others will not eat certain vegetables nor even allow. them
to be carried into their houses.'^ The only occasion when
the Sakalava tribe in Madagascar kill a bull is at the cir>
cumcision of a child, who is placed on the bull'iback during
the customary invocation.^
In Bengal, as we have seen, there are numerous totem
tribes among the non-Aryan races. In Siberia the Yakuts
* Perhaps the only known exceptions are the Kurnai in eastern
and the Gournditch-uior.% in western Victoria. For the latter see
Fison and HoN^itt, p. 276.
' Gatschet, Migration Legend of the Creek Indians^ 153; H. Hale,
.Tfte Iroquois Book of RiUs, p. 51.
* George GibUs in Contrib. to *V. American £thnol.^ i. 184; S»
Powers, Tribes of Calif. 5.
® A. Pinart in Revue d' £thnographie, vi. p. 36.
>» Simons in Proc. R. Geog. Sec, Dec. 1885, pp. 7S6, 7S6.
" Brett, Ind. Tribes of Guiana, 96 ; Im Thurn, Ammr) tlie Indiattf
of Guiana, 175 sq,
^* Crevaux, Voyages dans VAm^lque duSud, p. 59.
*** FaJkccr, Descr. of Patatjonia, 114.
'* Garcila-sso de la Vejja, Royal Commentaries of the Jticns, pL i-
bk. i. chs. 9, 10, 11, 18 ; Guniilla, /list, de 'VOrfiiu<ine, i. 175 57.
" Revue d' Ethnologic, iii. 396 sq., v. 81 ; A. B. Ellis, The Tshi.
speaking People of the Gold Coast, p.- 204 sq.\ Bowdich, Mission la
Ashavlee, ed. 1873, p. 216; Du Cluiillu, Equal. Afr., 308 sq.-. Td.,
Journey to Ashango Land, 427, 429 ; C. J. Anderson, J.ake Againit
221 sq.; Livingstone, Trcivls m S. Africa, 13; Casalis, The Dastttos,
211 ; J. Mackenzie, Ten I'ears ^'orth of the Orange River, 393;
J. A. I., xii. S3 sq.
*^ Charles New, Life, Wanderings. *tc., in Eastern Africa, 272, 274.
" Mansiield Parkjns, Life m Abyssinia, 293; Tr. EthnoL Soe.,
new series, vi. 292. '^ Ellis, .'/u^ of Madagiu.cur. i. 87-
" FUkLore P.coril, a. 22, 30. ^ » Jbid . iv. 45.
476
-T 0 T — T O U
are divided into totem clans ; the clansmen will not kill
their totems (the swan, goose, raven, iic.) ; ' and the clans
are exogamous.^ The Altaians, also in Siberia, are divided
into twenty-four clans, which, though interfused with each
other, retain strongly the clan feeling ; the clans are exo-
gamous ; each has its own patron divinity and religious
ceremonies ; and the only two names of clans of these and
kindred tribes of which the meanings are given are names
of animals. 3 Totemism exists among the mountaioeers
of Formosa,* and there are traces of it in China.^ In
Polynesia it existed, as we have seen, in Samoa. In
Melanesia it appears in Fiji,'' the New Hebrides,' and
the Solomon Islands.' Among.st the Dyaks there are
traces of totemism in the prohibitioi^of tlie fiesh of certain
animals to certain tribes, respect for, certain plants, &c.^
It- exists in the islands of Ambon, Uliase, Leti, Moa,
Lakor, Keisar (Makisar), Wetar, and the Aaru and Babar
archipelagos.'" In the Philippine Islands there are traces
of it in the reverence for certain animals, the belief that
the souls of ancestors dwell in trees, ic."
With regard to ancient nations, totemism may be re-
garded as certain for the Egj'ptians, and highly probable
for the Semites,'- Greeks, and Latins. If proved for one
Aryan people, it might be regarded as proved for all; since
totemism could scarcely have been developed by any one
Aryan branch after the dispersion, and there is no evi-
dence or probability that it ever was borrowed. Prof.
Sayce finds totemism among the ancient Babylonians, but
his evidence is not conclusive.'^
No satisfactory explanation of. the origin of totemism
has yet been given. Mr Herbert Spencer finds the origin
of totemism in a "misinterpretation of, nicknames":
savages first named themselves after natural objects, and
then, confusing these objects with their ancestors of the
same names, reverenced them as they already reverenced
their ancestors." But this view attributes to verbal mis-
understandings far more influence than, in spite of the
so-called comparative mythology, they ever seem to have
exercised.
I Literature. — .Ipart from the origiual authorities, the literature
on totemism is very scanty. The importance of totemism for the
tarly history of society was first recognized by Mr J. F. M'Lennan
in papers published in the Fortnightly Rcvif.w (Oct. and Nov. 1869,
t'eS. 1870). The subject has since been treated of by E. B. Tyler,
Early History of i/ankivrl, p. 284 sq. ; Sir John Lubbock, Origin
of Cnilnalwn, 260 sq.; A. Lang, Citsfom awi Myth, p. 260, &c. ;
Id., lUylh, Eilnal, and Hdigton, i p. 58 sq., 4c.; E. Clodd.
Mylhaand Dreams, p. 99 sq-\ W. Robertson Smith, Kinship
niiii Mnrrwgc in Early Arabw. See also SACRIFICE, vol. x.xi. p.
13.1 For fuller details, see J. G. Frazcr, Totemism (Edinburgh,
1887). (J. G. FR.)
TOTILA. See Jdstinian and Naeses.
(•
* Slrahlenberg, Description t*f the Xorth and Eastern Parts of
EuTO/ie and Asm, London, 1738, p. 383.
' Middenriorf, .SiSrr Rcise, p. 72, quoted hy Lubbock, Origin of
Civilization, p. 135 The present ^vTlte^ h3« been un.ible to find the
pissige of MuUlendorf referred to.
' W RadlofT, Alts Sibcricn, i. 216, 258. The Ostiaks, also in
Sibena_,rore divided into cxogamous clans, and they reverence the bear
(Castren Vorlesvngen ubcr die Altaischcn Volker, 107, 115, 117).
This, however, by no means amounts to a proof of.totemism.
V * Verliainlt. d. Rerl Oesell. Anthropologie, 4c., 1882. p. (62):
* Morgan, A. 5 . p. 304 sq. One of the aboriginal Inbes of China
Worships the image of a dog (Gray. China, ii 306).
1. ' Williams, Fiji and the Fi/ians, eii. 1860, i. 219 sq.
' Turner. Sum™, 334. ' Fison and Howitt, p. 37 n.
.' Lovy, Sarctivak. -265 sq., 272-274, 300; St John, Life m the
ttrre.ils of tlie Far East, i. 186 sg., 203; ef. VVilken in Jnd. Gids,
Iniie 1SS4. p. 988^7.; Ausland, 16lh June 1884, p. 470.
'^ Ricdcl, De .ilni/c. en hocsharige reisscn tusschcn Papua en Selebes^
>n. 32, 61, 253, 334, 341, 376 Sq., 414, 432.
*' Itlumentritt, Der Ahnencultus unH die religioscn Anschauungen
^tr Malaien des PhilippirTen-Archt'pel, 159 sq.
^- See W. R. Smith, Kinship and Marriage in Early Arabia.
'** A H. S.iyce, The P.eliyinn nf the Aneirnt Litbylonians, p. 219 sg.
}* bpcuccr. Principles of .^ciologj/, i. 307.
TOTTENHAM, or Totttnham High Cross, a suburb
of London, in the county of Middlesex, is situated on the
old " Great Northern " road, about 4 J miles north from
Shoreditch. The croGS at Tottenham is not a market-cross,
and its origin is doubtful Towards the close of the 16th
century it consisted of a column of -wood, capped with a
square sheet of lead. The present cross of brick was
erected by Dean Wood about 1600, and the ornamental
work of stucco was added in 1809. -In the time of Isaak
Walton -there stood over it a shady arbour of woodbine,
sweetbriar, jessamine, and mj^rtle. Formerly Tottenharu
was noted for its "greens," in the centre of one of which
stood the famous old elm trees called the "Seven Sisters";
these were removed in 1840, but the name is preserved in
the Seven Sisters Road. Bruce Castle, occupying the site
of the old mansion of the Bruces, but built probably by
Sir William Compton in the beginning of the I6th century,
is now occupied as a private boarding school. The churcE
of All Hallows, Tottenham, was given by David, king of
Scotland, probably when he visited Henry in 1126, to the
canons of the church of Holy Trinity, London. It has
frequently been restored and altered. The older parts
are the tower, nave, and south aisle of the Perpendicuhcr
period and the south porch of the 16th century. There
are a large number of monuments and brasses. Tottenham
consists chiefly of an irregular line of houses for about two
miles along the high road, with short side streets at
intervals. There are a number of almshouses, including
.the Sanchez almshouses, founded in 1596 by Balthazar
Sanchez, or Zanchero, confectioner to PhOip of Spain ;
Reynardson's (1685); Pheasunt's, or "The Pound," for
poor widows, originally founded by George Hynninghonx^
in 15.36, and further endowed by Pheasunt and Saunders;
and the sailmakers' almshouses, founded in 1869 by the'
Drapers' Company for forty-five inmates. The free gram-
mar school was enlarged and endowed in 1686 by Sarah,'
dowager duchess of Somerset. The population of the
urban sanitary district (area 4642 acres) in 1871 was
22,869, and in 1881 it was 46,456.
In the reign of the Confesior the manor of Tottenham was pos-
sessed by Earl Waltheof, who in 1070 married Judith, niece of tho
Conqueror, and was created in 1072 carl of Northumberland,
Huntingdon, and Northampton, but joined the conspiracy against
William, was betrayed by his wife, and was beheaded at "Winchester, '
It was inherited by his daughter Maud, who was married first t(f
Simon de St Liz and afterwards to David, sou of Malcolm HI.,'
king of Scotland, who was created by Henry 1. earl of Hunting-
don, and received possession of all the lands formerly held by Earl
Waltheof. In 1184 the manor was granted by William the Lion,
king of Scotland, to his brother David, carl of Angus and Gallo-,
way', the grant being confirmed in 1199 by King John of England,
who created him earl of Huntingdon. He married Maud, heiress
of Hugh, earl of Chester, and his son John inherited both earldoms.
The son married Helen, daughter of Llewelyn, prince of Wales,
by whom he was poisoned in 1237, dying without issue. She
retained possession till 1254, when the manor was divided between
his coheirs Robert de Brus. John de Baliol, and Henry de Hastings,
each division forming a distinct manor bearing the name of its
owner. In 1429 they all came into the possession of Alderman
Cedeney. William Beiwell, tho Arabic scholar, was vicar of
Tottenham, and published in 1632 a Briefc Description of the
Tou-ne of Tollenhnm, in which ho printed lor the first time ths
burlesque poem, the "Tuinament of Tottenham."
S«-e Robinfion's Hutory of TultenJiam, 1840.
TOUCAN, the Brazilian name of a bird," long since
adopted into nearly all European languages, and aiiparentiy
first given currency in England (though not then used as
an Engli.sh word) in 1668"* by Charleton (Onomasticon, p.
115) ; but tho bird, with its enormous beak and feather-
"■ Commonly believed to bo so called frohi its cry ; but Prof. Skeat
{Proc. Philolog. .%ciety, 15lh May 1885) adduces evidence to prove that
the Guarani Tiicd is from ti, no.se, and cAhg, bone, i.e., nose of bona.
" In 1656 the beak of an " Aracari of Brazil," which was a Toucan
of some sort, was contained- in the Mnsxuni Tradescaiitiamim (p. 2),
but the word Toucan does not appear there.
TOUCAN
^77
like tongue, was described by Oviedo in his Sumario de la
Natural Uistoria de las ludias, first published at Toledo in
1527 (chap. 42),' and, to quote the translation of part of
the passage in Willughby's Ornithology (p. 129), "there
is no bird secures her young ones better from the Monkeys,
jkich are very noisom to the young of most Birds. For
when she perceives the approach of those Enemies, she so
settles her self in her Nest as to put her Bill oat at the
hole, and gives the Monkeys such a weicom therewith,
that they presently pack away, and glad they scape so."
Indeed, so remarkable a bird must have attracted the
notice of the earliest European invaders of America, the
more so since its gaudy plumage was used by the natives
in the decoration of their persons and weapons. In 1555
Belon (//lit. A'at. Oyseaux, p. 1 84) gave a characteristic
figure of its beak, and in 1558 Thevet (SingularUez de la
France Antarctique, pp S8-90) a somewhat long descrip-
tion, together with a woodcut (in some respects inaccurate,
bat quite unmistakable) of the whole bird, nnder the name
of "Toucan," which he was the first to publish. In 1560
Oesner {Icones Avium, p, 130) gave a far better figure
(though still somewhat incorrect) from a drawing received
from Ferreriua, and suggested that from the size of its
beak the bird should be called Burhynchus or Ramphestes.
This figure, with a copy of Thevet's and a detailed descrip-
tion, was repeated in the posthumous edition (1585) of
his larger work (pp. 800, 801). By 1579 Ambroise Pare
((Evares, ed. Malgaigne, iii. p. 783) had dissected a Toucan
that belonged to Charles IX. of France, and about the
same time L6ry ( Voyage fait en la Terre dit BresU, chap,
xi.), whose chief object seems to have been to confute
Thevet, confirmed that writer's account of this bird in
most respects. In 1599 Aldrovandus (Omitfiotogia, i. pp.
801-803), always ready to profit by Oosner's information,
and generally without acknowledgment, again described
and repeated the former figures of the bird , but he cor-
rupted his predecessor's Ramphestes (which was nearly
right) into Ramphuslos, and in this incorrect form the
name, which should certainly be Rhamphestes or Rham-
phastas, was subsequently adopted by Linnseus and has since
been recognized by systemattsts. Into the rest of the early
liiBtory of the Toucan's discovery it is needless to go *
Additional particulars were supplied by many succeeding
writers, until in 1834 Gould completed his itonograpli
of the family' (with an anatomical appendix by Sir R.
Owen), to which, in 1835, he added some supplementary
plates; and in 1854 be finished a second and much
improved edition. The latest systematic compendium on
Toucans is Cassin's " Study of the Raraphastid*," in the
Proceedings of tbn Philailelphia Acad«mv for 1^67 fpp.
100-124)
By recent systemanata 5 genera aad from 50 to 60 species of the
Family are recognized ; but tKe charactera of the former have never
been aatisfactorily defined, nmoli less those of unnierous snbtlivisiona
which it has pleased some wnters to invent There cau be little
doubt that the bird first figured and described by the earlie-st
lUthors above named is the R Uko of nearly all ornithologists, and
* The writer haa only been able to consult the repnut of this rare
iroT-k cootained io the BUil'oUxa de AuCores EspaHoUi 'ixif. op. 473-
h\b). published at Madrid lu 1852.
■^ One point of some interest may. tiuwever, ne noticed. In 1705
Plot (.V. H. Oxfordshire, p. 182) reconJed a Toucan found within two
Diilesof Oxford in 164 4. the bo<iy of which was given to the repository
in the mescal school of that university, where, he said, " it la stilt to
be aeeo." Already io 1700 Leigh in hia L'xncashiTf (i. p 195, Birds,
tab \, fig. 2) bid ti^rfel another which had been fftund dead m the
coa&t of that county about two years before The bird is e.-uiily kept
In captivity, and no doubt from early times many ^^re brought alive
to Europe. Besides the one dissected by Pare, a.-; ibovo mentioned,
Joh. Faber, in his additions to Hernandez'a work on the Natitml
History of Mexico (1651), figures (p. 697^ nne -•"lo "ml .lescribed bv
Puteus (Dal Poz2o) at FonUinebleau.
^ Of this the brothers Sturm In 1841 pubUahed at Nuremberg a
Dermaa voraioD^
as such is properly n-garded as the type of the genus and thcreforo
of the Family. It is one of the largest, measuring 2 feet in length,
and has a wide range .throughout Guiana and a great part ol
Brazil. The huge beak, looking liko the great claw of a lobster,
more than 8 inches long and 3 Iiigli at the base, is of a deep orango
colour, with a large black oval spot near the tip. Tho eye, with
its double iris of green and yellow, has a broad blue orbit, and la
burrounded by a Dare space of deep orange skin. The olumago
generally is black, but the threat is white, tinged with yellow and
commonly edged beneath with red , tho upper tail-ooveits ara
white, and the lower scarlet In other species of the genus, 14 to
17 in number, the bill is mostly narticoloured — green, yellow, red,
chestnut, blue, tmd black variously combining so as often to form Q
ready diagnosis; but some of these tints are very Heeling and often
leave little or no trace after death. Alurnations of the brighter
colours are al-o displayed in the feathers of the throat, breast, and
tail-coverta, so as to be in like manner characteristic of the species,
and in several the bare space round the eye is yellow, green, blue,
or lilac. The sexes are almost alike in coloration, and externally
differ chiefly in size, the males being largest. Tho tail is nearly
square or moderately rounded. In tho genus Ptcroglossics, the
" Aracaris" (pronouni.-ed Arassan"), the sexes more or less differ io
appearance, and the tail is graduated The species are smaller in
size, and nearly all ore banded on the belly, which is generally
yellow, with black and scarlet, while except in two the throat o!
the males at least is black. One of the most nmaikable and
beautiful is P. bcaukanialsi, by some authors placed in a distinct
^enus and called Bcauhamaisxns utocunins In ihis the feathers ol
the top of the head are very singular, looking like glossy curled
shavings of black horn or whalebone, the effect being due to thq
dilatation of the shaft and its coalesct-nco with the consolidated
barbs. Some of the feathers of the straw-coloured throat and
checks partake of the same structure, but in a less degree, while
the subterminal part of the laintna is of a lustrous pearly-white.*
The beak is richly coloured, being green and crimson above and
lemon below. The upper plomage generally is dark green, but th(
mantle and rnmp are crimson, as are a broad abdominal belt^ the
fiauks, and many crescentic markings on the otherwise yellow
lower parts.* The group or genus Selenodera, proposed by Gould
in 1837 {Ictmes Avium^ pt. 1), contains some 6 or 7 species, having
the beak, which is mostly transversely striped, and tail shoitai
than in Puroglossas. Here the sexe^i also differ in coloration, the
males having the bead and breast black, and the females the same
parts chestnut ; but all havo a yellow nucha! crescent (whence th<
name of the group) Tho so-called Hill-Toucans have been separ-
ated as another genus, ATidigena^ and consist of some 5 or 6 speciej
chiefly frequenting the slopes of the Andes and reaching an eleva
tion of 10,000 feet, though one, often placed among them, but
perhaps belonging rather to Pteroghssiis, the A. bailloni, remark*
able for its yellow-orange head, neck, and lower parts, inhabits the
lowlands of southern Brazil Another very singular form is A.
laminirostris, which has affixed on either side of the maxilla, neaj
the base, a quadrangular ivory like plate, forming a feature uniqm
in this or almost in any Family of Birds The group Aulaco-
rham/jhus, or "Groove- bills," with a considerable but rath^^- un-
certain number of species, contains the rest of the Toucans.
The monstrous serrated bill that so many Toucans possess was
by Buffon, after his manner, accountt-d a grave defect of .Nature,
and U must be confessed that no one has given what seems to be a
satisfactory explanation of its precise use, though on evohilionary
principles none will now doubt its btnes?* to thd bird's require-
ments. Sobd as it looks, its weight is inconsiderable, ana the
perfect hinge by which the maxdia is urticiilated ailds to its
?fficiency as an inslmmunt of prcbeuNion Swamsou {Cla-isif.
Binti, i\. p \2H) imagined it meiely "to conuin an infinity ol
nerves, disposed like ru-t-work, ill of winch lead 'uimediately tc
the nostri',3." and add to the olfactory (atultv This notion
seems to be borrowed from Trail ( Trmci Linn Sociclxf. xi p,
2ii9), who admittedly had it front VVHifiiun. and suite*) that i(
was " an admirable contrivance of tMtme to tncreasr the delicacj
of the organ of smell , ' but Sir R. Owen's de cription shews this
view to be groundless, and he attributes tlm en traordinary develop-
ment of the Toucan's benk to tJie need of co ufiens.iting, by tlif
additional power of mastication thu^ givi-n. fo. the ab;.eiice of any
of the grinding structures that arc so ?li.iracieristic of the ia*
testinal tract of vegetable-eating birds— its digcsiivc o'jfaus posse.ss-
ing a general sininlicity of formation The (|ucsi:oii i» oiio worth
deriding, and would not be difficult to decide by those *ho havt
the opportunity. The oostiils are placed so as to be in most
* This curious peculiarity natnnlly attracted the notiie of the first
lisoverer I'f the specie'*, Poeppig, who hnetlv de>fnl>ed it in ft tettQ
puhli^hed in Fronep's Solncn (xxxii p. Hti) for December 1S31.
* RcH.der3 of Mr Bates's yaturahst on the Jitvtr Amazons ^iD
recollect tho account (ii p. 344) and illustration there given of bij
encounter with h flock of ihU specter of Toin-un Uis remarks OB Uw
other species with which he met are olso^^JCcelieau.
478
T 0 U— 'T 0 U
forms invisible until sought, being obaenred by the frootal feathers
or the backward prolongation of the homy fheath of the beak.
The wmga are somewhat feeble, and the legs have the toes jjlaced
in pairs, two before and two behind The tail is capable of free
vertical motion, and controlled by strong muscles, so that, at least
io the true Toucans, when the bird is preparing to sleep, it is re-
verted and lies almost flat on the bacK, ou which also the huge
bill reposes, pointing in the opposite direction.
As naay be inferred from the foregoing, the Toucans are
a Neotropical form, and by far the greater number inhabit
the northern part of South America, especially Guiana and
the valley of the Araazona. Some three species occur in
Mexico, and several in Central America. One, R. vUell-
inns, which has its headquarters on the mainland, is said
to be common in Trinidad, but none are found in the
Antilles proper. The precise place of the Family In the
heterogeneous group Ficarue cannot yet be determined
Its nearest allies perhaps exist amoug the CapiiomdsE , but
none of them are believed to have the long feather-like
tongue which is so characteristic of the Toucans, and is, so
far as known, possessed besides only by the Momotiddb {cj
MoTMOT. vol. xvii. p. 3). But of these last there is no
reason to deem the Toucans close relatives, and, according
to Swainson {ut supra^ p. l4l), who had opportuoilies
of observing both, the alleged resentbtance in their habits
has DO existemc. Those of the Toucans in confinement have
'been well described by Brodenpand Vigois {Zool Jout-nat,
i. p. 484 ; ii. p. 478), and indeed may be partially observed
in many zoological gardens. Though feeding mainly on
fruits, little seems amiss to them, and they swallow grubs,
reptiles; and small birds with avidity They are said to
nest in hoUow trees, and to lay white eggs. (a. n.)
TOUCH may be defined aa a sense of pressure, referred
usually to the surface ot the body. It is often understood
as a sensation of contact as distinguished from pressure,
but it is evident that, however gentle be the contact, a
certain amount of pressure always exists between the
eeoaitive surface and the body touched Mere contact m
buch circumstances is gentle preasore , a greater amount
of force causes a feeling of resistance or of pressure referred
to the ekio ; a. still greater amount causes a feeling of
, muscular resistance, as when a weight is supported on the
palm of the band , whilst, finally, the pressure may be so
great as to cause a feeling of pain. The force may not
be exerted vertically on the sensory surface, but in the
Opposite direction, as when a hair on a sensory surface is
pulled or twisted. Touch is therefore the sense by which
mechanical force is appreciated, and it presents a strong
resemblance to hearing, in which the sensation is excited
by intermittent pressures on the auditory organ. In
addition to' feelings of contactor pressure referred to the
eenyory surface, contact may give rise to a sensation of
temperature, according as the thing touched feels hot or
cold. These sensations of contact, pressure, or tempera-
ture are usually referred to the skin or integument cover-
ing the body, but they are experienced to a greater or less
,€xtent when any serous or mucous surface is touched
The skin being the chief sensory surface of touch, it is
there that the sense is most highly developed, both as to
delicacy io detecting minute pressures and as to the char
acter of the surfacft touched. Tactile impressions, pro
pcrly so called, are absent from internal mucous surfaces,
as lias been proved in men having gastric, intestinal, and
tirinary fistuhe. Io these cases, touching the mucous
surface caused pain, and not a sensation of touch
Orgaiui u/ Toiicfi. — Comparative Sketch. — The organs of touch
present mony varieties of form, from a simple filament of sensitive
protopliiMm to a highly complex end*organ connected with the
coinitieiiccment of a aenKory nerve-fibre. The bodies of the lowest
organi.sms are formed of coutractile protoplasm, and niet-hamcal coo
tact with any resisting aiibstances causes a change of form. Heit-
18 the simplest kind of touch — a lebponse on the part of any portion
of the surface of the body to a mechanical Btimiilus. The paeudopodia
of the Rhv3opoda are also organs of touch, and probably the Cilia,
the tlagellae, and the short rod-like bodies seen on many Infusoria
belong to the same class of sensory organs. Among the CcelcTUera
(hydroid polyps, tubularians, Hydromedusm, Medusm, ArUhozoaot
sca-aneraones) tentacles are found, usually arranged in circles
around the mouth or on portions of the body engaged in locomo-
tion, as on the margins oi the umbrella of Medicsse. These have a
large amount of sensibility, iind serve as organs of touch. In some
also there are stitT hairs on the tentacles and around the mouth,
more differentiated tactile organs. The Vermes show organs of
touch in the form of modified cells of the ini-egument, connected
with sensory nerves. These cells often assume the form of stiff
rods projected from the surface (tactile seti?). Such are often found
over the whole body of Turbellana and /^eviertiTia, on the tentacles
of Bryozoa, oo the head segment ol Lumbricidaz, aod on the tentacles
and anteuDLt of Chmiopoda. In the latter group of animals tactile
organs are also found in nng-like arrangements, called cirrhi, on the
foot-stumps or parapodia. In some Htnidin^a (leeches) compli-
cated taotile rods are embedded lu cup-shaped organs scattered
over the body. Large prominences of the cuticle, called tactile
pamllae, are also found in many of the Vemi^s near the oral and
genital onticea. The Echmoden/iata have also special parts devoted
to touch, and these show their h;gheat differentiation in the tentacles
of the Bolothuroida- Arthropoda show tactile organs in the form
usually of rod-like bodie^i projecting from the surface of the
appendages and chiefly connected
with nerves passing to gangliuotc
cells. Io CruusUicea such organs >ire
foQuU on the antenme and other
appendages, and on the antenna; in
Stfynupoda hqOl Iiisecta In the
latter they are also found on the
tarsal joiuta of the feet. The ap
pearauce of these rod-like bodies is
seen in fig, 1.
Ciliated tentacular processes exist
in the larva of Brachiopuda which '
are probably touch organs, but
there are no definite organs of this
kind in the adult form. The Mot-
lusca hiivo the seHse of touch widely
diffused. All the soft parte of the
body are callable of feeling when
touched, and in vaiious situations
there arehue hair-like prolongations Fio. I — Merve-ending
from cells. These are aupi.lied with {*tth tnctiie roda Irom
J . . '^' c I, f^e proboscis of & fly
nerves, and are touch organs, buch (j/,;r<-rt,, « nurve. y
are found on ttie edge of the manlle gaughonk »«iriji(ic. *. mcuItriHia.
Ill LamellibrauchiaUK wjiere they c. fine i.uirs oi cuhcIp tL*>th>;).
niay be in rows, they also exist on the siphons, and " they serve
to watch over the particles that get into the mantle entity with
the water * (Gegenbaur). F'rocesses of a tactile kind are alsi. found
on the e['i[ju(lium. the edge of the mKOtle. and the cephalic it-nfaides
in many Gastcropodf^, and oo the doisal lufta of the NuUith-anchuila.
Here and there al.so there are enlargements of the integument
covered with cilia and supplied by a nerve wtiich have been regarded
as touch organs, but are by some supposed to be connected with
smell (see Smell/ The Tnnicuta have cells wuh long hlamenloua
processes m the integument, which are probably tactile in function.
In the K'eat majoiity uf fishes touch is hmited to the lips, to
parts of the hiis. and to tpecial organs called barbela In the
Cyprinoidii there is a told of skin borderjig the mouth which is
higlily tactile. The Up of the sturgeon is coveied with •tumerous
papillie, the sucking lip ot the lamprey is pTtpillosB tti.d highly
sensitive. The tins are in many fishes modified to serve us organs
of touch Thus the gurnards (Tnytidss) have three soft flexible
rays detached from the fan. and *' the filiform radial iippendag^,.-i of
the Polijiictnid/e, the piolontjed ventral fins of Osphrirtncmui, Tiicho-
gasUT, and other LahyMnthibiuiichb, *ind of ttif Upkidixds,." ar©
examples of this class of otgaus (Owen). The bu.rhel.'. are long
slender proces.ses of skin, eitltei cingle or in pairs, found in the
Sihirida-, loaches, barbel:), cuds, :>iui<>tiin9, Aud in the parasitic
Myximdm The nerves for the burbels come from the fifth pair- of
cr.'iiiial nerves. "A cod, blind by absence or destruction of both
eyeballs, hiis be<*ii captured in good couditioo. and it may be sup-
posed to hnv(^ found its food by exploring with the flvrnph, sial
barhule. as well as by the sense of smell " (Owen) Bodies some-
what simiiiir to iht) pacinian corpviNules (to be afterwards described)
were di.scoveied by Savi in 1&44 in the torpedo, they am lUTaoged
in linear series on the anterior part of the mouth nnd uo.Htnls, and
ov('r the fore part of the electrical oigaua Each is composed of
two eiipsules, oile connected with the other, and containing a
granular suhsTjince in wlueh the nerve end is embeddeii Peuuliar
^lucous glands are also found outside the electrical orj-aus of the
torpedo wliK-h hic believed to luinistei to touch. Simdai organs
exist in sharks, and John Hun dissected the snoul of the spotted
dog-hsh {Scylhum) *' to show ihe manner ot the nervea ramijfying,
TOUCH
479
to also their apparent termination in U113 part, etch nltiinate nerve
■ppearing to terminate in the bottom of_a tabe or dact, the sides
H which secrete and convey a thick mucas to. the skin." These
"nervo-mucoos" organs are foand in the sides and onder part of
the head and on the fore part of the trunk.
The Amphibiiz and Reyiilia Jo not show any special organs of
tonch. The lips of tadpoles have tactile papillae. Some snakes
have a pair of tent xs'.es on the snout, but the tongue is probably
the chief organ of touch in most serpents and lizards. All reptiles
possessing climbing powers hare the sense of touch highly developed
m the feet.
Birds have epithelial papills on the soles of the toes that are no
doubt tactile. These are of great length ia the capercailzie ( Telrax
UTogalliis), "enabling it to grasp with more securitj- the frosted
branches of the Norwegian pine trees" (Owen). It has been sug-
gested that the delicate "papillose" digits of the smaller birds
assbt them in nest-building by haWng the sense of touch highly
developed, ground the root of the bill in many birds there are
special tactile organs, assisting the bird to use it us a kind of sensi-
tive probe for the detection in soft ground of the worms, grubs, and
dags that constitute its food. Special bodies of this kind have
been detected in the beak and tongue of the duck and goose, called
the tactile corpuscles of
jUerkel, or the corpuscles
of Grandry (fig. 2). Sim-
ilar bodies nave been
foxmd in the epidermis
'of man and mammals, in
the outer root-sheath of
tactile hairs or feelers.
They consist of small
bodies composed of a •*
oapsuld enclosing two or Fic. 2. —Tactile Corpoaciee from dvcK'e tongst^
more flattened nucleated "• ""'^
eella, piled in a row. Each corpuscle is separated from the others
by a transparent protoplasmic disk. Nerve fibres terminate either
in the cells (Merkel) or in the protoplasmic
interceiinlar matter (Ranvier, Hesse, Izqui-
erdo). Another form of end-organ, has been
described by Herbst as existing iu the mucous
membrane of the duck's tongue. These cor-
puscles of Herbst are like small Paciniau cor-
pnfcles with thin and very close lamells.
Developmentaofintegnmentdevoidof feathers,
anch as the "wattles " of the cock, the "ca-
nmcles'' of the vnltore and turkey, are not
tactile ia their function.
In the great majority of Mammalia the
general surface of the skin shows sensitive-
ness, and this is developed to a high degree
on certain parts, such as the lips, the end of Fio. 3.— TactDe Corpuatde
1 teat, and the generative organs. Where '""» 'te hand,
touch is highly developed, the skin, more especially the epidermis,
is thin and devoid of hair. In the Monkeys tactile papills are found
in the skin of the fingers and palms, and ia tho
skin of the prehensile tails of various species {AUUs),
Such paplUs also abound in the naked skin of the
nose or snout, as in the shrew, mole,
pig, tapir, and elephant. In the Or-
niih/rrhyjickus the skin covering the
mandibles is tactile (Owen). In many
animals certain hairs acquire great
size, length, and stiffness. These con-
stitute thevibrissoe.orwhiskers. Each
large hair grows from a firm capsule
sunk deep in the true skin, and the
Hair bulb is supplied with sensory
aerve filaments. In the walrus the
sapsule is cartilaginous in texture.
the marine Camiivcra have strong
vibrissa which "act as a staff, in a
Brayanalogous to that htld and applied
by the hand of a blind man " (Owen).
E^ch species has hairs of this kind
developed on the eyebrows, lips, or
cheeks, to suit a particular mode of existence, as, for example, the
long fine whiskers of the night-prowling felines, and in the aye-aye,
» mopkey having nocturnal habits In the b'ngulala the hoofs
need no delicacy of touch as regards the discrimination of minute
points. Such animals, however, have broad, massive sensations of
touch, enabling them to appreciate the firmness of the soil on which
they tread, and under the hoof we find hi=!bly vascular and sensitive
lamellie or papillje, contributing no doubt, not only to the growth
of the hoof, but also to its sensitiveness The Cctacca have numerous
papilla in the skm, regarding which John Hunter remarks " These
rilli are soft and pliable , they float in water , and each is longer or
ihorter according to the ai/e of the animaL In the spermaceti
Fio. 4. — TaccOe Corpuscles Trom
ditcria of rabbit, n, oerve.
whale they are abont a quarter of an inqh long ; in tne grampcs!
bottlenose, much shorter; in all they are extremely vascular; uiey
are sheathed in correspomling hollows of the epiderm." In some
whales the skin is thrown into numerous longitudinal plaits on
the under and fore part of the body (BalxnopUra). Prof. Owen
remarks regarding these : " It is peculiar to the swifter swimming
whales that pursue mackerel and herring, and may serve to warn
them of shoals, by appreciation of au impulse of the water rebound-
ing therefrom, and so conveying a sense of the propinquity of
sunken rocks or sand banks. Sensitiveness to the movements of
the ambient ocean is indicated by certain observed pheDoraena.|
The whale-fishers avei that when a straggler is attacked.its fellows
will bear down from some miles' distance, as if to its assistance ;
and it may be that they are attracted by perception of the vibration
of the water caused by the struggles of the harpooned whale or'
cachalot" (Owen's Ctrnparalive Anatomy, vol. iii. p. 189). Bat*
have the sense of touch strongly developed in the wings and external
ears, and in some suecies in the flaps of skin found near the nose.i
These " nose-leaves ' and expanded ears frequently show vibratile
movements, like the antennae of insects, enabling the animal to
detect slight atmospheric impulses. In the vampires {Dcsmodi)
and fmit-eating bats {Pteropi) the auricular and nasal appendages
are small; "such sensitive tactile guides or wamers m (light are
only needed in the bats of active food, which must follow in swift
evolutions, like the swallows, but in gloom, the volatile insects
that people the summer air at dawn or dusk" (Owen). There is
little doubt that many special forms of tactile organs will be found
in animals using the nose or feet for burrowing. A peculiar end-
organ has been found in the nose of the mole, while there are "end;
capsules " in the tongue of the elephant and " nerve rings " in the
^ais of the mouse.
End-Organs of Touch xn Man. — la man three special
forms of tactile end-organs liave been described, and can
be readily demonstrated.
(1) The End- Bulbs of Krause. — These are oval or
rounded bodies, from ^J-j to .j-l-g of an inch long. Each
consists of a delicate capsule, composed of nucleated con-
nective tissue enclosing numerous minute cells. On tracing
the nerve fibre, it is found that the nerve sbsath is con^
tinuous with the capsule, whilst the azis cylinder of the
nerve divides into branches which lose themselves among
the cells. Waldsyer and Longworth state that the nerve
fibrils terminate in the
cells, thus making these
bodies similar to the cells
described by Merkel (ut
supra). See fig. 5. These
bodies are found in the
deeper layers of the con-
junctiva, margins of
the lips, nasal mu-
cous membrane, epi-
glottis, fungiform
and circnm vallate
papillae of the
tongue, glans penis
and clitoris, mucous mem Diane of the rectum of man, and
they have also been found on the under surface of the
" toes of the guinea-pig, ear and body of
the mouse, and in the wing of the bat "
(Landois and Stirling). In the genital
organs aggregations of end-bulbs occur,
known as the " genital corpuscles of
Krause" (fig. 4). In the synovial mem-
brane of the joints of the fingers there
are larger end bulbs, each connected with
three or four nerve-filaments.
(2) The Touch Corpuscles of Wagner
and Aleissner. — These are oval bodies,
about 3.^ of an inch long by y^ of an
inch in breadth. Each consists ot a
series of layers of connective tissue
arranged transversely, and containing in
the centre granular matter with nuclei
(fig 7). One, two, or threu nerve fibres pass to the lower
end of the corpuscle, wind transverselj- around it, lose tha
Flo. 5. — End-Bolb from naicaik
conjunctiva. a, nncl'jated
capsule; 6, core; c, enterinn
Dcrve-^bre tenoinatiog ia ibe
core at ^
Flo 6 — End-Bum frofn
con]ullcU%-aofcalf. r..
480
TOUCH
whftti substance of Schwann, penetrate into the corpusclp.,
whsre the axis cylinders, dividing, end in some way un-
known The cor
puscles do not con .~ vTvV \
tain any soft core,
but are apparently
built up of irregu-
lar septffl of con-
nective tissue, in
the meshes of
which the nerve
fibrils end in ex-
pansions similar
to Merkel's cella
Dr Thin describes
simple and com-
pound corpuscles
according to the
number of nerve
fibres entering ^'?- '^-^'l'"' *="'°? "1"" ^}° "l '5" P*H? °' ""
rm, o liand a. blood-vessel ; 6, papilla of the coUs Tera:
them. These bodies e, capillary; d, nerve-flbre passtlie 10 a toach-cor-
««-o f/\,,f,^ oKitn piiscle i e, Wagner's touch-corpuscle; /, nt;n-e-
are louna aoua- fibre, cUrtdcd transveraely. 9, ceils of the Malpiglilan
dantlv in the palm '"V"'' "' "'= s"""- (Fron" Laodois um suiIidk,
f .-, , _i J after BlesiadedU.)
of the band and
sole of the foot, where there may be as many as 21 to
every square millimetre (1 mm. = ,'j mch) They are not
eo numerous .on the back of the hand or foot, mamma, lips,
and tip of the tongue, and they are rare in the genital
organs. " Kollmann describes three special tactile areas
in the hand • — (1) the tips of the fingers, with 24 touch
corpuscles in a length of 10 mm. , (2) the three eminences
lying on the palm behind the slits between the fingers,
with 5-4-2"7 touch-corpuscles m the same length . and
(3) the ball of the thumb and little finger, with 31-3-5
touch corpuscles The first two areas also contain many
of the corpuscles of Vater or Pacini, whilst in the latter
these corpuscles are fewer and scattered. In the other
parts of the hand the nervous end-
organs are much less developed"
(Landois and Stirhng).
(3) Tke Corpuscles of Vater or
Pacini. — These, first described by
Vater so long ago as 174 U are
small oval bodies, quite visible to
the naked eye, from ^% to -^ of
an inch long and j^ to ^ of an
inch in breadth, attached to the
nerves of the hands and feet They
can be readily demonstrated in the
mesentery of the cat (fig. 8). Each
corpixscle consists of 40 to 50
lamell* or coats, like the folds of
an onion, thinner and closer to-
gether on approaching the centre.
Each lamella is formed of an elastic
material mixed with delicate con-
nective tissue fibres, and the inner
surface of each is lined by a single
continuous layer of endothelial
cells. A double-contoured nerve
fibre passes to each.' The white
substance of Schwann becomes
continuous with the lamellae, whilst p,^ 8._vrter-8 er Pacini-. Cor-
the axis cylinder passes into the puscie. o, stain : (Miei'vo-fibro
. 1 , , "^ n 1 u enterlne It; c, d. connective
body, and ends in a- small knob or tissue envelope: <■. axwcyiin-
in a plexils. Sometimes a blood- <icr. »itiiitaenddki(iedat/.
vessel also penetrates the Pacinian .body, entering along
with the nerve. Such bodies are found in the subcutaneous
tissue on the nerves of the fingers and toes, near joints,
attached to the Dorves of tlie abdominal plexuses of the
I sympathetic, on the coccygeal gland, on the dorsum of the
jienis and clitoris, in the meso-colon, -ia the course of the
intercostal and periosteal nerves, and in the capsules of
lymphatic glands (William Stirling).
Pkysiology of Touch in Man. — Such are the special end-
organs of touch. It has also been ascertained that many
sensory nerves end in a plexus or network, the ultimate
fibrils being connected with the cells of the particular
tissue in which they are found. Thus they exi.'^l in the
cornea of the eye, and at the junctions of tendons with
muscles. I n the latter situation " flattened end (lakes or
plates " and "elongated oval end-bulbs" have also been
found (Sachs, Rolletl, Oolgi) A consideration of these
various types of structure show that they facilitate inter
mittent pressure being made on the nerve endings They
are all, as it were, elastic cushions into which the nerv*
endings penetrate, so that the slight variation of pressure
will be transmitted to the ner.ve. Probably also they 8er»»
to break the force of a sudden shock on the nerve endings
Sensitiveness aiid Sejisc of Locality. — The degree of sensitiveness
(fr the ekin U determined by fiadiog the smallest distance at which
the two points ^^
of a pair of p,^ «. jCLj.
compasses can ^ '^ ^
be felt This
method, first
followeti by
Weber, is em-
ployed by phy-
sicians ID the
li 1 1 r 1 1 1 1 rrh
lb
/ Fio. ».— .
'£stbeslonicter of Slereklng.
MUllmetrea.
11
11)
2-2-3
1-7]
4-6
8-9]
*-4-5
8-»]
fr-5-5
6-8
14-61
6-8
14 6]
diagnosis of nervous affections involving the sensitiveness of the
skin The following table shows the sensitiveness in millimetres
for an adult, whilst the corresponding numbers for a boy 12
years of age are given within brackets (Landois and Stirling, after
Weber) :—
Tip of tongue
Third phalanx of finger, volar surface...
Red part of the lip
Second phalanx of finger, volar surface
First phalanx of finger, volar surface
Third phalanx of finger; dorsal surface
Tip of nose -
Head of metacarpal bone, volar 6-6-8
BaU.of thumb 6*6-7
Ball of little finger 6'B-6
Centre of palm ---• 8-9
Dorsum and side of tongue ; white of the lips ;
metacarpal part of the thumb 9
Third phalanx of the great toe, plantar surface, 11 'S
Second phalanx of the fingers, dorsal surface... 11 '3
Back.... ll-S
Eyelid -, "S
Centre of hard palate. 13'5
Lower third of the fore-arm, volar surface 16 _
In front of the zygoma IB'8
Plantar surface of the great toe 16'8
Inner surface of the lip 20'3
Behind the zygoma » -■•• 226
Forehead ■•••- 22'8
Occiput .- « 27'1
Back of the hand « 81-6
Under the chin 8S'8
Vertex „ 888
Knee 86-1
Sacrum (gluteal region) i 44'*
Fore-arm and leg — 45'1
Neck _ 64-1
Back of the fifth dorsal vertebra ; lower dorssl
and lumbar region, , 64*1
Middle of the neck 87-7
Upper arm; thigh; centre of the hack 6'-7 [31-6-40-11)
These investigations show not only that the skin is sensitive,
but that one is able with great precision to distinguish the part
touched. This latter power is usually called the sense of locality,
and it is influenced by vaiious conditions. The greater the
■ number of sensory nerves in a given area of ekin the greater is tha
degree of accuracy in distinguishing different points Contrast
in this way the tip of the finger and the hack of the hand. Sensi-
tiveness increases from the joints towards the extremities, and, as
pointed out by Vierordt, sensitiveness n srcat in parts of the body
that are actively moved. The senoibilitv of the limbs is finer in
[4-6]
[6-81
[68)
[91
[»j
[9J
[11-8)
[11-8=
[9]
[13 •61
[15-81
[18)
[22 '6
[22 "
[22 '6
[226)
[31 61
[33 '8}
r.S3'8)
(361)
T OUCH
\b» iTansTcrso iMs th.in in the long axis of the lirab, to' the extent
of ) 00 tin- llcxor siirfaco of the upjicr limb anJ i on the extensor
sorCico (Ljndois), It u rioiibrruJ if exorcise improves sensitive-
ness, as Fnincui Gallon found that the performances of blind boys
were not supcnor to those of other hoys, and he says that "the
guidance of (he blind depends mamly on the luultitndo of col-
IflCeril indications, to which tliey give much herd, and not their
mpermnty to uiiy ono of theiu " When the skin is moistened
*iih iodirt>>n;nt lluids scnsibiht)- is increased. Suslovva made the
cu.njus discovery th it, if the ^rca bct»c-eu t«o p.iints distinctly
felt be tickled ur bo stimiililcl by a «-<-,ik electric current, the
iniprcssious are fuv.iL Stretchim; the skin, and baths in water
coniamini; uirbouic acid oi coiiiiiioii salt, increase the power of
localising tactile luipic-wions. In exii'iiniciitiiiij with the com-
ws-ses. It will be found th.it a sniallcr di<t.iiice can be distinguished
iJoue f.rnievds liuiu j;i..iivr to «ni,UJer di-,tancc3 than in there-
verse dircctiuii. ■ A sni .llc-r diNt.iuce lau .il>o be detected when
the points of the Cvmhims.-,.-, are placiid ono after the other on tho
skin than when tluy are placed simulUneoiisIy If the pouits of
Uie conip*>sis aro iuio.|ailIy heated, tho sensation of two contacts
becomes confused. Anauu^mrc condition, ora suto of venous con-
gestion, or the .-ipplicrttn.il of cold, or violent siretchingof tho akin,
or tho use of such snb^Liuces us utropine, daturin, niurpliia,
strychnine, aliMhol, bromide of i>otassiiiiu, canuabin, and liydnite
of chloral bhint sensibility The onlv active snlKl-oncft «.-.i.l to
increase it is lalfciiL
AhaoluU s^njUtimcsa, eis inutcateu Dy a s<iu« 0/ prasmre, has
been determrncj by various metliods. Two diirercnt weights are
placed on tho part, and the smallest dilfcrenco in weight tliat can
be perceived 13 noted. Weber idaced siuall weighu dii-ectly ou
the skin ; Aubert and Kamiuler loaded suiall plates ; Dohm made
use of a balance, having a blunt point at one end of the beam, rest-
mg on the skin, whilst weights were placed on tho other end of the
beam to equali2e tho pressure; Eulenberg invented an instrument
hke a spiral spring pa|)cr-clip or balance (tho barffistheiiom.-ler),
having an index showing the pressure in grammes; Goltz employed
an india-rubber tube filled wuh water, and this, " to ensure a con-
rtant surface of conuct, bent at one spot over a pice* of cork is
touched at that spot by the cutaneous part to ba examined, and,
by rhythmically exerted pressure, wavia analogous to those of the
arterial pulse nre pro<luce»l in the tube" (Hermann); and Landois
inventea a mercunal balance, enabling him to make r.ipid variations
ID the weight without giving rise to any shock (tigurcal in Landois
and Stirling's /'Aysw%y. p 1155) These methods have given the
following general resulu. (1) The greatest acuteiie-ss is on the
forehead, temples, and back of the hand and-forearm, which detect
a pre.isure of 002 gramme; fingers detect
481!
In/an,mlim /n>m TactiU Impressions. -These mMe us to corn*
o the foUowing conclusions. (1 ) We note the existence of some,
thing touching the sensory surface. (2) From the mtensny ol tin
sensation we determine the weight, tension. ,.r iiiiensity of the pros.
f'"","^r.^'*'"^"°°,'"" 'hehrst instance refeiied to the skin,
but after the pressure has reached a certain amount niuseul.ir sciivv
tions are also experieoced-thc so-called n,„scubr sense (3) The
ocality of the part touched is at once deteiirMiied. and fiom thi»
the nrobable position of the touching body Like the visual fuld
to which all retinal ini[uessions .ire leferr^-.l. i»,i,t for i ,t there
IS a tactile held, to which all points ou the skin surLire ,",ny ba
referred. (4) Uy touching a body at various pni.ua. fioui this
■lillerence of pressure and fioni a comp.iiisou of the iKisiliou, o«
various [>ouiU lu the t.ictile held we ju.lg.. of the co„i;:;u,ati.,>, o(
the body A number ol " tactile piclu.es " are obuiucd by insa.
ing the skin over Ihc touched body, and the sh ,p, of il,^ 1,o,lv {•
further determined by a kno«lc,lge of the muscular niovcmoitl
necessary W bring the cutaneous suiface into contact with d.Hcrent
iwrtions of it. ll there is abnomial displ.ic.meiil of position a
hilse conception may arise as to the sliaiie of the body n.us'i)
a small marble or a pea be placed l«t«een the ii,dc.< and m..|,'||(
hnger so as to touch (with the palm downwards) ih^ outer sid.- ol
the index finger and the inner side of the mhhlle hugc^*. a scnsntioii
ol Uiuching ,/w round body is experienced, but if |the hngeis b«
crossed, so that the marble touches (be inner side ol th. indei
huger and tho outer side of the middle finger, tbeie «iil be a
Iceling of two rounil bodies, bec.iu.se ui these circunistaiices there
is added to the feelings of conuct a feeliiic; of distortion (or ol
muscular action) like what would uke place if the liugers, for pur.
poses of touch, were placed in that abuoinni r«sitiou. A"ain
assho«ing that our knowledge of the tactile field is precise Ther.
IS the wellkuown fact that when a piece of skin is ti-insplantcd
from the forehead to the nose, in the opeiation for removin.' a
deformity of the nose arising from lupus or other iilceratlvt
disease, the patient feels the new nasal pan as if it were his fore-
head, and he niay have the cunoius sensation of a nasal instea.1 ol
a frontal headache. (5) From the number of iKjints touched w«
judge as to tho smoothness or roughness of a body. A b.>.ly havine
a uniformly level surface, like a billiard ball, is smooth , a b.idi
having pouits irregular in size and number in a given ar^a is iou"h
and ll the points are very close together it gives itsc to a sens..troit
like that of the pile of velvet, alnmst inLiK-iablc to some iiulivj.
duaU. Again, if the pressure is. so uniform as not to be felt, as «hei:
the body is immersed m water (paradoxical as this may seem, it i)
the case that the sensation of contact is felt only at the limit of tV
Huid), we experience the sensation of being in contact with a lluicL
(6) Lastly, it would appear that touch isal«ays the result of varii
.,- , ,. , ^ . • --=--- - 005 to -015 gramme.
lilPspHii'sisiigiiiis
01 touch. ii() £ulenb.rrg found the lollowiiig gradations in tho Th^^r,:, „ ,„ t^..,i. -ri ...... .1 ," '""^" "'^I'^".'^^-
fineneis ol the pressure sense— the forehead, li|«, back of the
cheeks, and temples appreciate diiferences of ,', to Vj (2jO 205 to
800 : 310 giamnies). The back of the last ph.ilanx ol the fingcra
the forearm, hand. 1st and 2d phalanges, the palmar iUrface of the
hand, forearm, and u(.per aim .listinguish dilleieii.es uf A to J,
(200 ■ 220 to 20^; : 210 gramnies). The front of the leg and ihi.d"
IS similar to the forearm. Then follow the bajk of the foot and
toes, the sole of the foot, and the back of the leg ami thigh Dohru
placed a weight of 1 gramnm on the skin aii.l then deteimined thu
least additioiMl weight that could be .leUcte I, with this result —
Sd phalanx of linger, -4911 gramme ; back of tho foot, 5 gramme •
2d phalanx. 771 gramme. 1st phalanx 82 gramme ; leo 1
gramme; back of hand, 1156 gioinmcs; palm, llils grammes;
patella, 15 gianimes; forearm, 1 99 grammes: uinbili.^us 3 5
grammes, and biick. 3 S gran. lues (Land. us ami Stirling) (i) la
passing from light to l.caiier weights, the ... iiteu.-.s3 incivases at
once, a masimum is lei. I1..I. and then witli h.avy wei-hts the
povverofdistiiig.i,.hi.,g the .lirterences .liminisbes (HeiingrBiedcr-
mann) (5) A s.iivaii..n of piessuie iifter the ueigbts have been
removed may be nntned (.i«ir /,r,v>,<rj «.cv,(,„),), e~|«cially if tho
Weight be cuiisldrial.le. (6) Valentine notic.^l that, if ilio fin. -or
were held ogiMista bl.int-t..oihed *hal, and the uhiel wein rolarcd
with a ceruin ra|.iility, he Iclt a srnovtli margin fhus was ex-
pencil, ed when the intrcval, .A umu between the contacts of suc-
eesKive teeth -."ere less than Irom ji, to rtj of a second. The s.nine
ejpciimeiit can Iw readily made hv holding the linger over ihe holes
in one of the outeiin.,st . irdes of a huge ^yrcu routing ipiickly :
the Sensations o( in.livi.lual UAvs become fused, so as to give rise
to a feeling of ii.u. Iiinj a slit (7) Vilmuinus of strings are de-
tected even v^ bi-n the n.inibcr is about 1 5uO per second : above this
the Sensation of vii.ration cases By attaching bristles to the
prongs ol tuning f..rks. and bringing these into cnnUct with the
Up or tongue, sensations of a very acute character are exiieiienced
ivflicli are most intense when the forks, vibrato from 600 to 1500
pet Mcood,
riuoncs IS to. Touch.— To e\\.hm tho i.hcnom. nnn of the Uctil*
field and inore especially the remarkable vaiiations of tactile
sensibility above describo.l vailnus theories have Leeii .,.lv,„lv.ed
(1) rhe ono most g.-ncially knoivn is that of L 11. Weber ai
modified or resute.l by Lot^e. ,M,.issncr, Czermik, and others ll
issu.nes that, uhilst we refer every Uit.le senlation to a ceitaio
position in the tactile field, we do not icf.r it meiely toa iKunt but
to a circular or oval area on the skin, called a circle ol s, usihilay.
further, it is .assumed that if two such circle.s to.ich or overlap thev
cannot be indmdu.olly perceived, and that they can only l... sc
individually perceived when one or more circles of sensibility iute&
vene, or. In othei
wor.ls, when there ^
is a *'pon-irri
tiled sco.':ury elc-
(4) In i ment' between
the two points
touched (hf»9 10
and 11)
Each circle ol
jensibility may
bo supposed tc
be inncivateil by
a distinct fibi'e.
Thns.snppose the „ •"'«• " ■^c- "
sensitive surface ' **"**'^ i..— utacran.s 01 i.-ictllc 1nner\atien
of the skin to be """""• '''""•''"^'■' J'-"""")
diagianiin.itically represented as lu figs 10 anil 11 each square
would be a " circle of sensibility." lu mnic sensitive ivfions the
squares woul.l be smaller and the nnnibci of nerve terminations
gn'atcr than in less sensitive regions In lig 10 the areacnnuins
nine "circles'' and has nine nerve terminalltnis, whiUt in lig 11,
ilthough the total .irea is the same, Iheie arc thirty si» •'circles"
ind tlMrty-six nerve filaments. If the points of the compasses bfl
placed at .7 an.l ciin tig. 10 tfio sensation will bo that of one f«int -
then would also iie a neintutioii ofjiuo point if th.v weiv placed at c
xxiiC— .61
a c a. c
a c a c
(From
482
TO U C H
Fio. 1 2.— Diagram showing oveTlapplng of
"circles of seDSiblUty." (From BeauDis.)
ft&d d ; but if the points touch c and e tliere wili be a double sensa-
tion, because the "circle" rf intervenes. Again, in fig. 11, where
the " ckcles " are much smaller and more numerous, the minimum
distance at which two sensations are experienced is much less than
in 6g. 10. for this would happen when the compasses touch a and d.
It will also be obserrcd that the same distance d cm fig. 10 would
give a single sensation, whilst it would give a double sensation in
fig. 11. But c f in fig. 10 gives a double sensation, and yet the same
distance would give a single sensation if the points of the com-
passes touched adjoining "circles." A "circle of sensibility,"
however, cannot be regarded as an anatomical magnitude or
" cutaneous sensory uuit," or, in other words, the area of distribu-
tion of a single nerve-fibre. The extent of any such hypothetical
circle can be altered hy practice and attention, an-1 we may therefore
asiunie that the circles overlap, and that even the same area of skin
receives numerous nerve fila-
ments, and thai consequent-
ly, wlieu a body is touched,
it e:tcites at once many fila-
ments. This is illustrated
by fig. 12.
It will be seen that each
area receives a certain num-
ber of nerve fibres and each
nerve fibre supplies fibiiU
that cross the fibrils of ad-
joining nerves. If the point
of tlie compass touch at a,
it will irritate all the fibre's
from 1 to 7, hut these will
not be excited with equal in-
tensity ; the excitation will
be at a maximum at 4, more
feeble for 3 and 5, and still
more feeble for 2 and 6 ; so
tliat the intensity of the excitation may be represented by the curve
above rt. In this case the sensation will be that of one point, because
all the fibrils have been excited. If the other point of the compass
be placed at 6, there will be an intermediary region not excited, and
two points will be felt. Suppose now the second point of the com-
passes is moved to c, all the hbnls between the two points a and c
are excited, and there is likely a sensation of single contact ; but
the excitation of the fibrils 7 and 8 is very feeble, and it is possible,
by attention aud practice, to leave these out, and then tlirre will be
a sensation of two contacts (Benunis). This mechanicnl theory has
no anatomical basis, except it be the statement made by Krause tbat
the distance of the two points of the compasses at which two points
are felt includes in the mean 12 tactile corpuscles. V;hiNt atten-
tion hns been inniuly directed to the skin as the locality >^fhere an
anatomical explanation is to be sought for. it must not be toigoitcn
that pioci=ises may be in operation in the nerve centres. It is
well known that irradiation of nervous impulses occur in the nerve
'centics (se^ Hhysiologv, vol. xix. p 29). and it is not unlikely that,
when a nervous impression reaches the bi-ain from a particular area
'of skin, this may be diffused to neighbouring nerve-cells, exciting
these, and lliat then the effect on these ccHr. in accordance with
the law that sensations in nerve centres are lelericd to the origins
in the periphery of the sensory utrve fibres reaching them, will be
referred to adjoining areas of skin, or. in other words, to adjoining
points in the tactile held.
Wundt has propounded a psycho-physiological theory that every
part of the skin with tactile sensibility alw.iys conveys an imprcs-
sion of the loraliry o! the sensation. Each area of skin has a
[*' local colour." and this diminishes from ar^-a to area. The grada-
tion is sudden wht-ie the sense of locality is acute and gradual where
it is obtuse. "A ciicle of sensation is an area where the local
colour changes so little that two separate impressions luse into one "
(Landois). Practice -enables one to notice the changes of local
colour, aud thus more and more arcuratelv to discriminate points
closer and closf-r together. This theory does not ap^vear to explain
anythiug. it simply restates the phenomciitt for which an explana-
tion is desired.
SE^MATlt>N< OF TEMPEKATfRE. — Tlie skin is not merely the seat^
of tactile impressions but also of imjiressiona of temperature.
This depends on thermic irritati<>n of^ the terminal organs, as
pvovtjd by the following experiment of E. H. Wi-ber :-*-" II" the
elbow be dipped into a very cold fluid, the cold is only felt at the
immersod part of the body (where the fibres terminate); pain,
liOMuvcr. is fell in the terminal organs of the ulnar nerve, rwmely,
in the hnger points; this pain, at the same time, deadens the local
sensation of cf>ld." If the sensation of cold were due to the
irritation of a specific-nerve fibre, the sensation of' cold would be
rcferrrd to the tips of the fingers: Whon any part of the skin
is above its normal mean temperature, warmth is - felt ; iri the
bpposito case, cold. The normal mean tern pern tti re- of a given
larea vari**s according to the distribution of hot blood in it and to
the activity of nutritive chariees occurring in it. When the skin
IS brought into contact with a good conductor of heat there fa k
sensation of cold. A sensation of heat is experienced when heat is-
carried to the skin in any way. The following are the chief factr,
that have been ascertained regarding the temperature eense. (ly^
E. H. Weber found that, with a skin temperature of from IS^'S C.\
to 35*" C, the tips of the fingers can distinguish a difi'erence of*
■25" C. to •2°C. Temperaturesjust below thatof the blood (33' C-
27* C. ) are distinguisned by the most sensitive parts, even to "05*
C. (2) The thermal sense varies in different regions as follows : —
tip of tongue, eyelids, cheeks, lips, neck, belly. The "perceptible
minimum " was found to be, in degrees C. : — breast, •4*; back, '9* ;
back of hand, '3" ; palm, A" \ arm, '2' ; back of foot, •4' ; thigh^
•5°; leg, -6' to '2*; cheek, -4°; temple, Z". (3) If two different
temperatures are applied side by side and simultaneously, the
impressions often fuse, especially if the areas are close together.'
(4) Practice is said to improve the thermal sense. (5) Sensations
of heat and cold may cunously alternate ; thus " when the skin
is dipped first into water at 10° C. we feel rold, and if it be then
dipped into water at 16" C. we have at fii^st a feeling of warmth,'
but soon again of cold" (Landois). (6) The same temperature
applied to a large area is not appreciated in the same way as when
applied to a small one; thus ".the whole hand when placed in
water at 29'''5 C. feels wanner than when a finger is dipped into
water at 32' C.
There is every reason to hold that there are different nerve fibres
and ditferent central organs for the tactile and thermal sensations,
but nothing definite is known. The one sensation undoubtedly
affects the other. Thus the minimum distance at which two com-
pass points are felt ia diminished when one point is warmer than
the other. Again, a colder weight is felt as heavier, " so that the
apparent difference of pressure becomes greater when the heavier
weight is at the same time colder, and less when the lighter weight
is colder, and difference of pressure is felt with equal weights of
unequal temperature" (E. H. Weber). Great sensibility to differ-
ences of temperature is noticed after removal, alteration by vesi-
cants, or destruction of the epidermis, and in the skin affection
called herpes zoster. The s?me occurs in some cases of locomotor
ataxy. Removal of the epidermis, as a rale, increases tactile
sensibility and the sense of locality. Increased tactile sensibility
is termed hyperpsc/nphcsia, and is a rare phenomenon in nervous
diseases. Paralysis of the tactile sense is called hypopselaphesia^
whilst its entire loss is npselaphcsia. Brown-Sequard mentions a
case in which contact of two points gave rise to a sense of a third
point of contact. Certain contlitions of the nerve centres affect
the senses both of touch and temperature. Under the influence of
moqihia the person may feel abnormally enlarged or diminished in
size. As a rule the senses are affected simultaneously, but cases
occur where one may be affected more than the other. Herzen
states that "limbs which are sleeping" feel heat and not cold
(Landois).
Pain. — In addition to sensations of touch and of temperature
referred to the skin, there is still a third kind of sensation unlike
either, namely, pain. This sensation cannot be supposed to be
excited by irritation^ of the end-organs of touch, or of specific
thermal end-organs (if there be such), but rather to irritation of
ordinary sensory nerves, and there is every reason to believe that
painful impressions make their way to the brain along spinal
tracks in the spinal cord. If we consider our mental condition
as regards sensation at any moment, we notice numerous sensations
more or less definite, not leferred directly to the surface, nor to
external objects, such as a feeling of general comfort, free or im-
pelled breathing, hunger, thirst, malaise, horror, fatigue, and pain.
These are all caused by the irritation of ordinary sensory nerves in
different localities, and if the irritation of such nerves, by chemical,
thermal, mechanical, or nutritional stimuli, passes beyond a certain
maximum point of intensity the result is pain. Irritation of a
nerve, in accordance with the law of "peripheral reference of
Rcnsotion," will cause pain. Sometimes the irritation applied to
the trunk of a sensory nerve may be so intense as to destroy its
normal function, and loss of sensation or anaisthesia results. If
then the stimulus be increased further, pain is excited which is
referred tn the end of the nerve, with the result of producing what
hos been called miststkesia dolorosa. Pains frequently cannot be
distinctly located, probably owing to the fact of irradiation in the
nerve centres and subsequent reference to areas of the body which
are not really the seat of iiriUtiona. The intensity of pain depends
on the degree of excitability of the sensory nerves, whilst its mas-
eiveness depends on the number of nerve fibres affected. The
quality of tne pain is probably produced by the kind of irritation
of the nerve, as affected by the structure of the part and the greater
or less continuance of severe nressure. Thus there are piercing,
cutting, bonng, burning, throbbing, pressing, gnawing, dull, and
acute varieties of pain. Sometimes theexcitability of the cutaneous
nerves is so great that a breath of air or a delicate touch may '
give rise to suffering. This kyptralgia is found irr inflammatory
alfectioDsof the skin. In neuTalgia the pain is characterized by
its character of shooting alqng the course of the nerve and by
T O U — TOU
483
•severe exacerbations. In many nervous diseases there are dis-
•Vi-UivU Sfiisatioiis referred to t!»o skin, such as alternations of heat
nud cold, bunnug, oixepiug, itehin;;, and a feeling as if iusects
were crawling ou the surliiee (formicatiou). This ionditien is
termed /nrut.jia Tlie term hi/fnlijia is applied to a diminution
and annljia to paralysis of [xiin. as is protiuced by anoeslhetics.
• -MuscaLAK Sense. — The sensory impressions considered in this
article are closely related to the so.called muscular sense, or that
sense or feeling by which we are aware of the sute of the muscles of
a Umb as regards contraction or rela.\atioii. Some have iield that
the muscular sense is really due to greater or leis stretcliing cf the
skiu and therefore to irritation of the nerves of that organ. That
this IS not the case is evident from tlie fact that disorcfered move-
ments indicating perversion or loss of this sense are not ulfected by
removal of the skin (Clau.le Bernard). Further, cases in the huniaii
being have been noticed where there was an entire loss of cutaneous
sensibility whilst the muscular sense was unimpaired. Ic is also
known that muscles possess sensorv nerves, giving rise, in certain
cii-curastauces, to fatigue, and, when strongly irritated, to the pain
of cramp. Muscular sensations are really e.xcited by irritation of
sensory nerves passing from the muscles themselves. Wo are thus
made conscious of whether or not the muscles nro coutracted, and
of the amount of contraction necessary to overcome resistance, and
this knowledge enables us to judge of the amount of voluntary ini-
pUise. Lo^ or diminution of the muscular sense is seen in chorea
,imd c,-i|wciully in locomotor nuxy. Increase of it is rare, but it is
wen in the ciuious affection called anxietas tibiarum, " a painlul con-
dition ..f nnicst, whicli leads to a continual change in the position
Of the limbs (Landois). See also Physiolooy. (J. G. M.)
TOUL, a town of France, chef-lieu of an arrondissement
ID the department of Meurthe-et-Moselle, on the left bank
of the Moselle, 199 miles east of Paris by tlie raiUvMy to
^'ancy, at the [joint where the Marne Canal joins those of
the Rhine and the East. The isolated hills of St Michel
and Barine respectively rise 548 feet and 574 feet above
the to^v^, which is a stronghold of the first order, the
centre of an entrenched camp protected by numerous forts
and redoubt.s, and a link in the chain of fortifications
which extends from Verdun to Belfort. The light and '
elegant church of St Etienne (formerly the cathedral) has
a fine choir and transept, dating from the 13th century ;
the nave and aisles are of the 14th, and the beautiful
recently restored facade and the towers (246 feet) of the
15th. The interior (118 feet in height, 289 in length, and
89 la width) lias fine glass, a remarlcable organ-loft, and
some interesting monuments. The bas-reliefs of the
charming Gothic cloister (13th and 14th centuries were
much damaged during the Revolution. The choir and
transept of St Gengoult, a' fine church of the 13th century
with a facade of the 15th, contain some interesting 13th-
century glass ; and the light groups of supporting columns,
and the sculptures in the cloisters (first half of the ICth
century), .should ako be mentioned. The old episcopal
palace (18th century) is now used as the town-hall; it
contains the museum and library, in which Is preserved
the ^golden bull by which the emperor Charles IV. in
136" confirmed the liberlies of the city. The population
!JC32 in 1881, was 9981 in 1886 (commune 10,459).
Toul {Tutlum) is one of the oldest towns of France; ori-inally
Capit-nl of the Leiici, in the Belgic confederation, it acnuiird .--rcat
importance iiiwler the Knmans. It Has evangelized bv St Jlansuy
in the latter half of the 4 th century, and became one of the leadiii"
^5 of north-east Oaiil. Allcr l.eing sacked successively by Goths'
Burgiindians, Vandals, and Huns, Toul was conquered by the
Franks in 450. Under the Merovingians It was governed by counts
Msisted by elecrtive ollictrs. The bishops, who had become
increasingly powrlul, were invested with sovereign lights in the
10th century, holding only of the emperor, and for a period of
SOOyeai-s (l:Sth toIGlli centuries) the cituens maintained a Ion..-
Struggle against them. The town was forced to yield for a lime to
the count of V'audeniont in the 12tli centiiiy, and twice to the duke
Of Lorraine in the l.^th, and was,lhrice devastated by the plague in
the IGth. Charles V, made a solemn entry into the town i[ri544
out in the following year, at the iiisUnce of the Cardinal de
Lorraine, it placcil itself under the [icrpetual protection of the
kings of France. Henry II. took [lossession in 15D2, but the town
with its territory was not oliiclally incorj»orated wilh France till
1648. Henry IV, was ieci:ived in state in IHM. and in 1637 the
l>arl«m<nt of Metz was transferred to Toul. In 1700 Vauban lecon-
structcd tho fortifications' of the town, and in 1790 the bishopric
was, suppressed and the diocese united to that of Nancy. Toul
capitulated. in 1S70, after a bombardment of twelve days from
heights now included Lu the new fortifications.
TOULON, a French fortress of the first class, chet-Iicu
of an arrondissement in the department of Var, of the
5th nava! arrondissement, and of a military subdivisioa, is
situated on the Mediterranean, 42 miles east-south-east of
Jlarseilles by the railway to Nice. The bay, which opens
to the east, has two divisions, the "grand rade " and the
"petite rade"; it is sheltered on the north and west bj
high hilLs, closed on the south by the peninsula of Cape;
SiciiJ and Cipet, and protected on the east by a hug«
Environs of Toulon.
breakwater, — the entrant*, 1300 feet wide, being defensible
by torpedoes. A ship coming from the open sea must first
pass the forts of St Marguerite, of Cape Brun, of La
Malgue, and of St Louis to the north, and the battery ot
the signal station to the south ; before reaching the petite
rade it must further pass under the guns of the battery ol
Le Salut to the east, and of the forts of "TBaiaguier and
L'Eguillette to the west. The Bay of La Seyne lies west
of the petite rade, and is defended by the forts of Les
Six-Fours, Napoleon (formerly Fort Cairo), and Malbous-
quet, and the batteries of Les Arenes and Les Gaus. Tc
the north of Toulon rise the defensive works of Mont
Faron and Fort Rouge, to the east the forts of Artigues
and St Catherine, to the north-east the formidable new
fort of Le Coudon, and to the south-east that of La Colle
Noire, respectively dominating the highway into Italy
and the valley of Hyeres with the Bay of Carqueyranne.
The port of Tou'on consists of the old dock, of which
one-third is reserved for the national navy, a new dock,
wholly so devoted, a harbour capable of receiving trading
vessels drawing from 16 to 18 feet, but only used for car-
goes ot wood and wine, and the Castigneau dock. The
naval arsenal (including the arsenal of Castianeau, which
IS contiguous with it, in the direction of La Seyne) extends
To^nnr '"''*''' "^^^ *" ^''^^ °^ ^'^'^ ^"^^' ^^^ employs from
r-,000 to 13,000 men. It contains the offices connected
with the administration of the port, tho otfice of naval
construction, a well-stored naval museum, und a great
In'"rn'^//7°'''''''°P'- .These last include a rope-work
W.,0 X 66 feet, covered building yards, careening basins,
torges armourers' and joiners' shops, general magazines,
recon.truotPd on a fireproof principle since the conflagr..^
484
T O U — T O U
fion of 1793, in which are stored all materials required in
tlje arsenal and on board ship, a park of artillery, a
splendid collection of arms, and separate storehouses for
various classes of rigging. The Castigneau arsenal con-
tains the navy bakery of twenty ovens, capable of cooking
600,000 rations daily, the foundry and boiler-making
works, engineers' workshops, forges, three large careening
basins, a washing house, a slaughter house, stores of pro-
visions, coals, anchors and machinery, and the like. The
Mourillon arsenal, to the south-east of the town, has stores
of wood, building yards, and appliances for naval con-
struction in wood and iron. The town, enlarged to the
north under the second empire, has on that aide a fine new
quarter ; but in the old town the streets are for the most
part narrow, crooked, and dirty, and to their insanitary
state the cholera epidemic of 18Si has been attributed.
The chief buildings are the old cathedral of St Marie
Majeure, the church of St Louis, the town-hall, the theatre
(seating 2000 persons), the museum, the library (18,000
volumes), the naval and military hospital, with a natural
history collection and an anatomical museum attached, a
naval school of medicine, a school of hydrography, and
large barracks. The imports are wine {■2.470,000 gallon*
in 18S1), corn, wood, coal, hemp, iron, sugar, coffee, and
fresh fish , the exports are salt, copper ore, barks for
tanning, and oils. In 1882 the movement of the port
was represented by 'J80 vessels (41,000 tons). The in-
teresting buildings and gardens of the ho.spital of Si
Mandner stand on the peninsula of Cape Cipet, and ni^ar
them i.^ the lazaretto In 1881 the pi-puliiion of Toulon
was 4>' 83l', and in 1880 it was .'>3,'J4l, e.<olusiie of
1 2.487 f-.)ldiers, sailers, A-c. (commune 70. 122).
T!ie R-'Hiin T- 1'» MartiuH is suj-pos^jj to havv -i.wkI n'i.\r tie
Ki/arelto Tl"? ti.^ro «-a? succc-iaivcly .sai'kt'ri t-\ C'<lhs. burj^uu
<iiaiis Frwii,'. inJ .Sara.-eos L'urihg tlie .arlv .Mi,l-<W Afl'S, ah.l
(111 .viiqui'"! by f lla^k■^ 'jf Ari|uii in l'i:i9, II " i« ■mrtii li.cj-- of
ll* O'.vn. 40.1 ■ T.I,,H,<1 llllo dlllHIK'U Villi t ho Ic J'nl't nj vf .\1 a I >»- 1 i 1 1'.-*
an-l Ari^» >i L-^ui.^ Lo»ii? Xll , and l'ran''i& 1 slftiigtlniie'i ii?
forllli' n'lnos ll vm acized by tlve *m|'>T"i ri.i.iln V ui l.'.:4
• III ID-W Il-iiiy IV. fniindcil a nnval .irsiual al Tmil.iM. wln.'b
ua-i I'lirih.-f -iirfngiheiierj b) Ki» hr-Ii-u. anJ Va,.lf.in iii^i.ie liitfin-w
doik. a n»''» €u«-c>nie 411.I ^ev,>ral fori* auJ Ir.iiicru** In Ktt"
Ihe to'VQ waA Mfi«nioi fsaiiilly be.<i''j:pd by tli'* -liik^ 01 Sa>c'y, l*riiirt
Eu;;.'nf, in I an Eu^lisli. lUt-i In 1701 iliert- «.isjn ouU'r>'ak ol
llic" pl.<^uo 111 K92. ilui grr^l and MnjriiMiarv .li-."c!er. llie
roj All.■.t^ 01 I*!'' I''-"^ n xjlljjtil !hf sul-l'orl of 111** Eii;.'ll^b .tfjd .Sl-aiiis!i
flfpis nuiiing III the tirt^tiboiiilKMnJ Tlic t.-iivf«itK'ii b.a\iiij'
rel'Ilfd I'V I'jltini; ttie l'»«i, " hors la U'l,"' llit- iiiliiibitanls opfitctl
Ihfit haiiwur 10 ill.- tnjli^li Tlic army of tbr ici-iibiir no-J Isi.l
si(.i;e 10 ib^ ti>-An. nnd tl *aH on tlii» occasion thnt N.ij-ok-on [vin*
I'lltc tint ini.l< bii name .i!> a soldier Tlie f"il? roniui.in.liiic ib»
town lilMMf; bi-cii |jk<-n. Ih.' Enjilivb ships rfiiird ,11. 1 x-lung fiu-
to tlic .iisviial. TJu'cnnrtagiatioii tiaspviiufzinsbtd b> I If (.rwrji,.-rs,
bill not Ub'ie .IS OIII of a toUl of f"> \Csst-N had Ui'll dr.sfri.')rd
I'ruK'l ibc Dirrolor\ Toulon Ijcc.iiiic tlic most iiiii<*iitanl ricncti null
l.iry fort on tlic M.-.Jit.-riain-flii , it was licrc tliat Nni-oleon *.»r^i>in/.d
tlic Ejjplian raiiipii^ii and the cn|»rdilii«n ajjainsi AI;;icrs scl cot
Ir.Mii T'oiilcn III ISJO I'lic furlihi jtn.in bavo l«ci> -trcii-lbci.cd
b) Na(.olc<Mi 1 . I..1II1S I'liiliipi;, N:i|.olcnu 111 , and since ipTu
TOl'LOrSK. chef lieu of the Krencli d»partnicnt ol
lljute Ci.iioiiiio, 4 7S miles .soulli from Paris and lliO suiitli
cast (n^ni Bonloaux. stands on the right bank td the
Caronno, which here desciibes a bold outw.ird curie to the
east. On the kit lank is the I'auboiirg St C'v prien. Tin:
river is spanned by three bridges — tliit ol St I'lerrc lo ihe
north, lliul of St Mnliel towards the south, and the I'oiit
Neuf in the centre , the last named, a tine i-oiistructioti vi
seven arches, was bo^'un in l''4.3 The city is peculiarly
.subject to great floods, such as that of 18-''>.'"., nliieli de-
stroyed the suspension bridge of St I'lerre, or the still mure
disastrous one of Juno 1875, which, besides carrying a»ny
that of St Michel, laid the Faubourg St Cyprien under
water, destroyed 70U0 houses, and drowned 300 jicople.
East and north of the city runs the great Canil du Midi
(from the Mediterranean), which here joins the Caroline.
Between this canal and the city proper extends the long line
of boulevards (Boulevards Lacrosses, d'Arcole, du 22 Sen-
tembre, &c.) leading by the AU^e St Etienne'to the Boulid-
grin, whence a series of allees shoot out in all directions.
South-west the AlliSe St Michel leads towards the Garonne,
and south the Grande Alice towards the Faubourg St
Michel. These boulevards take the place of the old city
walls. Between them and the canal lie the more modern
faubourgs of St Pierre, Arnaud- Bernard, Matabiau, Ac
Plan of Toulouse.
The more ancient, part of the city consists of narrow irregu-
lar pebble paved streets. Most of the houses arc of brick,
and none of any great architectural pretensions, except
those which <!^it<* lack at least to the ITih century. In
1808 the niuiiuipal aiithoiities determined to construct two
entirely new .<^trecis, broad and sir.ii^ht intended to cut
one another at rii:lit angles ne.ir the centre ol the city. Of
these the first, the liuc de Mel^. stalls eastward from the
Pont Neiif, and will ultimately intersect the Hue d'Alsace-
Lorraine running from luTtli to south These alterations,
however, go on \ery slowly The I'luce du Capitolo may be
rcgnidcd'as the cciitif, wlmiee stieels branch out in every
direction Lastwaid and norlh-ensl the line La Fajctte
load^ across Ihe b..iilLv;irds townrils the Alice La Fayette,
beyond which. Kcrots the Can.il dn Midi, are the l->olc
Veterinaiie and the i.iilway station, uiid ."i'lll farther off
the olwlisk erected to uniiinoniontle the battle of Toulouse
(.\piil 10, 18U|, tind the observatory. From the north-
west of the I'hici; du Capilole the Kue dii Taur runs due
north past the miciciit I'^glise du Tmir to the great Kglisc
St Seriiiii. tlio largest and must f.iiii.'us church of southern
France From the north west crner of the same Place the
line des Loiscomlucts t.<vv:irds the Fcole de I'roit and the
arsenal. In a more wi-iefly direct ion the Itue Pargamin-
lire stretches towards th.; vcneinble <liiiirh and the .bridge
of St Peter From the .soiilh west corner the Kun des
)l.ilaiice.s exliiids towards the line do Melz and the Pont
Noiif. From Ihe south ihe Kue St liomC, Kue des Changes,
and Kue des Filatiers lead to the Place des Carmes or de
la Ib^piiblique ; while from the .south-east corner the Rue
de ll Poiiiniu and the Kue KouUionne lead across tlje Rue
d'Alsacu Lorraine to Ihe catliedial of St Stephe^i, lo the
TOULOUSE
485
south of the city lies the palais de justice, near which are
the ancient church of the Inquisition and several of the
finest houses in Toulouse. Going northwards, the traveller
passes the £glise de la Dalbade on his way towards the
Pont Neuf, immediately to the north of which is the £glise
de la Daurado. North of this church, but somewhat farther
from the river, is the military hospital, to the immediate
cast of which lie the lycee, the church of the Jacobins,
and the public library. South-east from this, about half-
¥ray towards the cathedral, is the museum. North of the
military hospital and beyond the Rue Fargaminiere lie the
arsenal and the Faubourg St Pierre. Slightly to the north-
west of the Pont St Pierre the Canal de Bnenne (finished
1778) cuts across the angle formed by the Garonne and
Canal du Midi. Between the Canal de Bnenne and the
Garonne is the chief" manufacturing part of the city, where
the great Bazacle flour-raill stands. Aiung the right bank
of the river run the various quays of St Pierre, ttc. In
the Faubourg St Cyprien, just north of the Pont Neuf, is
the Hotel Dieu St Jacques, said to have been founded before
the r2th century, with its large gardens. Close to the
Pont St Pierre is the hospital of St Joseph de la Grave,
which makes up 1432 beds, and affords shelter to found-
lings and the aged. South of the Allee St Michel is the
Jardin des Plantes, founded by the ill-fated La Perouse.
The most interesting building ia the church of St Scrnin or
Saltiminus, whom legend represents as the first preacher of the
gospel in Toulouse, wliere he was perhaps martyred towards the
middle of tlie 3d century. The oldest part of the present building
was consecrateil by Urban II. in 1096. This church is now the
larj;est cilitice of soiuhern France, being 375 feet from cast to west
and 217 feet in its utmost brcadlb. The nave (r2th and 13th cen-
turies) is remarkable for having double aisles. Four pillars, sup-
portinj; the central tower, are surrounded by heavy masonry, which
somcwh^tt S[X)ils the gcner.il harmony of the interior. In- the
6outhern transept IS tiie " porLid dcs combes," so named because
near it lie tin; tombs of Willian? Taillefer, Pous, and other early
counts of Toulouse. The Iitlle chapel in which these lombs (as-
cribed to the 11th century) are found was restored by the capitols
of Toulouse in 164S. Another chapel contains a Byzantine Christ
of late 11th-century workmanship. Tiie choir (11th and 12th cen-
turies) ends in .in apse, or rather che'vet, sun-ounded by a range of
columns, markini; oir an nisle which in its turn opens into five
chapels. The stalls are of 16th-century work and very grotesquely
carved Aj^ainst the northern wall is an ancient tat Icd'autd, which
an lUh-century inscription declares to have belongeil to St Scrnin.
In the crypts are many relics, which, however, were robbed of their
gold and silver shrjn« durinj; the Revolution. The finest gate is
on the south, nnd is surmounted by a fine representation of the
Ascension in Byzantine style. The capiUls of the St Scrnin pillars
are sometimes ornamented with leaves and sometimes witli grot-
esque ammils. kc. The belfry consists of five stories, of which the
two highest are of later date, but harmonize very well with the
three lower ones. The catliedml, dedicated to St Stephen, dates
from three -diiferent epochs. The n.tve, commenced, by Raymond
VI towanis the begmnmg of the 13th century, still displays the
sculptured arms of its founder, and a few yeare ago preserved the
pulpit in which St Bernard and St Dominic are said to have
preaclied. The choir, commenced by Benrand de Lille (c. 1272),
was burned in 1609. but restored in the same century. It is sur-
rounded by seventeen chapels, which were finished by the Cardinal
dOrlcaus, nephew of Louis XI , towards the beginnmg of the 16th
century. These chapels are adornetl with glass dating from the
IPth to the 17th century. The j-reat western gate was constructed
by Peter du Moulin, archbishop of Toulouse, from 1439 to 1-151. It
has been greatly battered, and presents but a poor approximation I
to Its aucient U-.Tuty. Over this ffrand sate, which was once i
ornamented with the statups of St Sernin. St Exupenus. and the 1
twelve apostles, as well as those of the two brother archbishops of •
Toulouse. Denis (1423-1 439) and Peter du Moulin, there is a bcauti- !
ful 13th-ccnturv rosc-wmdow. whose centre, however, is not in a
perpon*licular line with the point of the Gothic arch below. In
the same way the choir and the nave have not the same axis.
Among oiher rt-niarkahlc churches may be noticed those of St
Pierre dr? Cuisin.s tl2lh rcntury), with its beautifully sculptured
capitals; of Notre Dame de la Daurade. near the Pont Neuf. built
on the site of a9th-ccninrv Bcnedicime abl>ey, but reconstructeil
in 1764. and of N'otre Dame do la Dalbade. perhaps esistins m i
the nth ceniurv but in it^ present form dating from the 15ih. I
The Egllsc dcs Jacobins, heldbv Viollet le Due to be ** one of the I
most beautiful bnck churehes constructed in the Middle Ages," I
wa.1 built towards the end of the 13th century, and originally con*
sisted of but one structure divided into two aisles by a range of
columns. It has a beautiful octagonal belfry. Before the Rcvolu-
tion it contained the mausoleum of Thomas Aquinas. On the left
of the Garonne stands the church of St Nicholas, also with an octa-
gonal belfry and a spire dating from the loth century. There are
many other churches of considerable antiquity.
Of secular buildings the most noteworthy are the capitole, tho
museum, and the lycee. The capitole ilCth-17th centuries) has a
long Ionic facade constructed by Canimas (1750-60). The theatre
is situated in the left wing. Running along almost the whole
length of the first floor is the "sallcdes illustres" adorned with the
busts of forty-four great natives of Toulouse; the word "native"
has, however, been construed very liberally. In the capitole tho
Acadenuedes Jeux Floraux holds its annual meetings. The museum
(opened 1795) occupies the church and other buildings of the Angus-
tiiiLin convent (I4th-15th cent.). It contains a splendid collcctioo.
of antiquities arranged in two cloisters, nnd a collection of pictures.
The natural history museum i^ at the Jardin dcs Plantes. The
lycee occupies the group of boildings known as ' Les Jacobins/*
the Hotel Bernui (16th century), ic Here is the public library
(65,000 volumes).
Toulouse is.singularly rich in mansions of the 16th and 17th
centuries. Several of these are richly adorned by Bachelier, Michel-
angelo's pupil. The Hotels d'Assezat, de St Jean, Las Bordes, Fcl-
zins, Duranti, and-Maison de Pierre may be si>ecially mentioned.
A few houses are said to date from the I4tli century or even earlier.
Near the Allee St Michel is the palais de justice, the old meeting
house of the parlement of Toulouse. " Close by was the old Chateau
Narbonnais.
Besides its university, which ranks next to those of Paris and
Lyons, and has faculties of law, -science, letters, an_jl medicine,
Toulouse possesses many educational and learned societies, among
which may be mentioned the £coIe des Beaux Arts et des Sciences
Industnellcs, the iScole Normale, the Ecole de Musique, the Aca-
demies des Jeirc Floraux, des Sciences et des Belles Lettreset Arts,
and de Legislation, the Societe d*Agriculture, and the archseological
Societe du Midi.
The geographical position of Toulouse, on the plain of Languedoc,
has mado it the chief entrepot of the district for wine, corn, and
almost all the industries of the neighbourhood!. Btsides the grind-
ing of flour, 'its leading industries are cabinetmaking, hat-making,
calico printing, the manufacture of pots and pans, macaruni, and
starch, leather-making (morocco), doth and paper making, glass-
blowing, saddlerj*, and pottery. The tobacco factory occu]>ies 1250
hands, and manufactures 1000 tons of snulf, a corresponding
quantity of tobacco, and 250 tons of cigars annually.
The population of the city, 127,196 in 1881, numbered 133,775
Id 18S6, that of the commune being 147,617.
Tolosa (ToKuaaa), chief town of the Voloe Tectosages, does not
seem to have been a place of gieat importance during the early
centuries of the Roman rule in Gaul, though one incident in its
early history gave nse to the famous I*itin proverb "habet aurum
Tolosanum" iAuL Geli., lii. c, 12). It was possessed of a circus
and an amphitheatre, but its most remarkable remains are to be
found on the heights of Old Toulouse (vetus Tolosa) some 6 or 7
miles to the east, where huge accumulations of broken pottery
and fragments of an old earthen wall mark tiie site of an ancient
settlement- The numerous coins that have been discovered on the
same spot do not date back farther than the 2d century E.t;., and
seem to indicate the position of a Roman mnnnfacturing centre
then beginning to occupy the Gallic hill-fortress that, in earlier
days, had in times of peril been the stronghold of the native tribes
dwelling on the river bank. Tolosa does not seem to have been a
Roman colony; but its importance must have mcreased greatly
towards the middle of the 4th century. It is to be found entered in
more than one itinerary dating from about this time . and Auson-
ius. in his Ordo Nofnlium Urhiurtt, alludes to it in terms implying
that It then had a large population. In 419 it was taken by Wallia,
king of the Visigoths, under whom or whose successors it became
the seat of the great Teutonic kingdom of the \VestCoth?. — aking-
doni that within fifty years had extended itself from the Loire to
Gibraltar and from the lihone to the Atlantic On the defeat of
Alaric 11 (o07) Toulouse fell into the hantis of Clovis. who carried
awav the royal treasures to Angoulcme. Under the Merovingian
kiii2s It seems to have remained the greatest city of southern Gaul,
ami IS said to hrive been governed by dukes or connisdei«endent on
one or other of the nval kings descended from the gicat founder of
the Frankif-h monarchy. It fijiurcs prominently in the pages of
Gregory of Tours and Sidonius A|K>llinaris. About 628 l>agol>crl
erected South Aquitaine into a kingdom for his brother Charibert,
who chose Toulouse as his capital. For the next eighty years its
history is obscure, till wc reach the day.s of Charles Mm id, when
it was besieged by Sema. the leader of the Saracens from Si»ain (c.
715-20). but delivered by Eudo, "princeps Aquitanis," in whom
later wTitcrs discovered the ancestor of all the later counts of Toul-
ouse Modern criticism, however, has discredited this genealogy ;
486
T 0 U — T O U
and the real history of Toulouse recoraoienccs in 780 or 781, when
Charlemagne appointed his little son Louis king of Aquitaine,
with Toulouse for his chief city.
Daring the minority of the young king his tutor Chorson ruled
at Toulouse %vith the title of duke or count. Being deposed at the
council of Worms (790), he was succeeded by 'William Courtnez, the
traditional hero of southern France, who in 806 retired to his newly
founded monastery at Gellone, where he died in 812. In the uu-
i>appy days of Louis the Pious and his children Toulouse suffered in
coiumOQ with the rest of westeru Europe. It was besieged by
Charles the Bald in 844, and taken four years later by the Normans,
who in 843 had sailed up the Garonne as far as its walls. About
852 Raymond 1., count of Querci, succeeded his brother Fridolo
as count of Rouergue and Toulouse; it is from this noble that all
the later counts of Toulouse trace their descent. Raymond l.'s
grandchildren divided their parent's estates ; of these Raymond II.,
the elder (d. 924), became count of Toulouse, and Ermengaud, the
younger, count of Rouergue, while the hereditary titlos of Gothia,
Querci, and Albi were shared between them. Raymond 1 1, "s grand-
eon, William Taillefer {d. c. 1037), married Emma of Provence, and
handed dow^x part of that lordship to his younger son Bertrand.*
William's elder son Pons left two children, of whom William IV.
succeeded his father in Toulouse, Albi, Queici, &c. ; while the
younger, Raymond IV. of St Gilles (c. 1066;, made himself master
©f the vast possessions of the counts of Rouergue, nianied Ins cousin
the heiress of Provence, and about 1085 began to rule the immense
estates of his elder brother, who was still livmg.
From this time the counts of Toulouse were the greatest lords
in southern' France. Raymond IV., the hero of the first crusade,
assumed the formal titles of marquis of Provence, duke of Nar-
bonne, and count of Toulouse. While Raymond was away in tlie
Holy I^aud, Toulouse was seized by William IX., duke of Amutaine,
who claimed the city in right of his wife Philippa, the daughter
of William IV., but was unable to hold it long (1098-1100).
Ravraond'ssonand successor Bertrand followed his father's example
and set out for the Holy Land in 1109, leaving his great estates
at his death to his brother Alphonse-Jourdain. The rule of this
prince was disturbed by the ambition of William IX and his grand-
daughter Eleanor, who urged her husband Louis VII. to support
her claims to Toulouse by war. On her divorce from Louis and
her marriage with Henry II., Eleanor's claims passed on to this
monarch, who at last forced Raymond V. tqjjo hini homage for
Toulouse in 1173. Raymond V., the patron of tlie troubadours,
died in 1194, and was succeeded by his son Raymond VI., under
whose rule Languedoc was desolated by the remoryeless crusaders
of SimoD de Montfort. Raymond VII., the son of Haymcnd VI.
and Princess Joan of England, succeeded his father m 1222, and
<iied in 1249, leaving an only daughter Joan, married to AKouso the
brother of Louis IX. On the death of Alfonso and Joan in 1271
the vast inheritance of the counts of Toulouse lapsed to the crown.*
From the middle years of the 12lh century the people of Toulouse
Seem to have begun to free themselves from the most oppressive
feudal dues. An act of Alphonse-Jourdain (1141) exempts thcni
from the tax on salt and wine; and in 1152 we have traces of
a '* commune con.siiiutu Tolosfc " making police ordinances in us
own name " with the advice of Lonl Raymond, count of Toulouse,
duke of NarboDne, and marquis of Provence." This act is witnessed
by six " capitularii," four duly appointed judges (jnrhccs constitvti ).
and two advocates. Twenty-three years later there are luehc
capitularii or consuls, six for the city and six for its suburbs, all
of them elected and sworn to do justice m whatever municipal
matters were brought before them. In 1222 their number was
increased to twenty-four; but they were forbidden to touch the city
property, which was to remain m the charge of certain "commun-
arii " chosen by themselves. Early in the 14th century the consuls
took the name of "domiiii de capitulc,*' or, a little later, that of
" capitulum nobilium." From the Kith century the con.'^uls nietin
their own house, the "palatium coniniumtalis Tolosre" or hotel-
de-ville. In the 16th century a false derivation changed the ancient
consuls {doTnini de capituh) into the modt-rn " capitouls " {domtni
capitolii Tolosani), a barbarous etymology which in its turn has,
in the present century, transformed the old assembly house of
Toulouse into the capitole.
The parlement of Toulouse was established as a permanent court
in J443. Louis XI. transferred it to Montpellier in 1467, but
restored it to Toulouse before the clo^e of tne next year. This
1 About 975 there was a psriltlon of rhe estates whlcl' Winiam ToiJIefer and
hts fiUMn Itayraond II. of Auveienc htlil in common, — Albi, Querci, Ac, falling
to Wlllirim, nnd Gcihls, ac. to Raymond,
2 List o( thaoounts of Toulouse, mainly fmna He Vic and Vnls.3Cte : —
Chorson 778-790
William 7flO-606
Dercnger 817-fl:?5
Ecfrid «._.. 83A-S45
Fridolo -..&45-8.V2
Raynumi)
Benfti-d
rtnvmond H.. 01H-9'.^4
Kaymond III 3;f4~c.'J'.0
Gai'scndc, (or
her son c.9't0-c. 07.'*
Wniiam Tail-
lefer r97Vc.l<pri7
WV-K64 i Pons iy:{7-10(;0
864-87.1 Wltliam IV lOWW.ltWS
Eodo. &7&-9I8 I Kaymond IV 1093-110.'^
Bcrtnnd 1096-1109
Al[ilion9e-Jour-
dain nft!».Il4fl
Kaymnnd V.... IHS-nM
r.dymond VI . lia4-lVW
Ravmonil VII. vni-VlA'd
AlfonM'i and
Joan 1240-1271
parlement was for Languedoc and southern France wh:ii the parle-
ment of Paris was for the north. Towards the cud of the Ifith cen-
tury, during the wars of the League, it was split up into llirce
different sections, sitting respectively at Carcassonne or Ctzicrs, at
Castel Sarrasin,and at Toulouse. The three were reunited in 1596.
Under Francis 1. it began to persecute heretics, and tn 1615 rendered
itself notorious by burning the philosopher Vanini. The univer-
sity of Toulouse owes its on^n to the action of Gregory IX., who
in 1229 bound Raymond VII. to maintain four masters to teach
theology and eight others for canon law, grammar, and the liberal
arts. Civil law and medicine were taught only a Uw years later.
The famous "floral Games" of Toulouse, in whicli the poets of
Languedoc contended (May 1-3) for the prize of the golden violet
and other gold or silver Ilowei-s, given at the expense of tlie city,
were instituted in 1323-24.
See, besides the various ciiide-books, De Vic nnrt Vnisscfi-, Ifistoi>'e tff Lat^
gucdoc. ed. 1873 sq.; Cuicl, Untoire de Tou/onsf. ir.23 ; Ln F^itili'. /Imtone de Tout'
ouse, IfiST. 1701; Du Mtire, tiii-toire des /fisitiulwn de TouIohsc, 4 vols.. 1&44-
46; D'Alde«mcr. Hisloiredela VUle de Touloine, J833-35. (T. A. A.)
TOUNG-NGD, a district in the extreme north of the
Tenasserim division of Eurmah, with an area of 6354
square miles, and lying between 17° 37' and 19° 28' N.
lat., and between 95^" 53' and 96° 53' E. long. It is
bounded on the N. by Upper Burmab, on the E. by a
high mountain range known as the "Great Watershed." on
the S. by Shwe-gyeng district, and on the W. by the Ptgu
Yomas. Three mountain ranges traverse the district — the
Pegu Yomas, the Poung-loung, and the Nat-toung or "Great
Watershed," — all of which have a north and south direc-
tion, and are covered for the most part with den.se forest.
The Pegu Yomas have a general elevation of from 800 to
1200 feet, while the central range averages from -000 to
3000 feet. The rest of Toung-ngu forms the upjier portion
of the valley of the Tsit-loung (Sittang) river, the only
large river in the district, the chief tributaries of which
are the Tshwa, Khaboung, Hpyu, Thouk-re-gat, and Kouk-
thwa-wa, all being navigable for a great portion of their
course. Limestone appears in various places, and in thfr
north-east a Iigbt grey marble is quarried for lime. The-
rivers form the chief means of communication during the
rainy season. Of late years some good roads have been
constructed, and the Burmah State Railway, when com-
pleted, will intersect the district from south to north.
In 1881 the population numbered I'JS.SIS (males 68,484, females
60,364), of whom 'jy.DUr were liiuldhists. 17,448 Christians, 2083
Hindus, 1962 Mohanimiuhios, and 12,612 abonj^ines. The only
town in the diNlnct is Toniiy-ngii. on the T'^it-toiing river m
18" 55' 24" N. lat and 96" 'M' 4" E. long., witli a y>opulnlu>B of
17,199 in 1881 Of the total area only .^'9 square milts .iic .irtually
under cullivatmn, ouin;; mainiy to tlie hilly nature of the country.
Kite i.s tlie chief pn>dtnl, otlicr crops nitlndc oil-hrcds, siigar-
CiMie, cotton, (ruit, and vigv tables. The pi i nopal m.mufartuivb art-
silk, saltpt-trc. and ^uiipo\\diT. In 1885-86 the gross value of the
flistnct was X15,09S, of which the land produced £5880.
TOUR, Maurice Quf.ntin de la (1704-1788). the
renowned pastellist, was born at St Quentin on the 5th
Septeinbei 1704. On leaving Picardy for Pans he entered
the studio of an artist named Du Pouche, and then that of
Spo^de, — an upright man, but a poor master, rector of the
Academy of St Luke, who still continued, in the teeth of
the Royal Academy, the traditions of the old guild of the
master-painters of Pans. This possibly contributed to the
adoption by De la Tour of a line of work foreign to that
impo.sed by an academical training ; for pastels, though
occasionally used, were not a principal and distinct branch
of work until 1720, when Ro^ialba Camera brouglit them
into fashion with the Parisian world. In 1737 De )a Tour
exhibited the first of that splendid series of a hundred and
fifty portraits which formed the glory of the Salon for the
succeeding thirty-seven years. In 1746 he was received
b) the Academy ; and in 1751, the following year to that
in which he received the title of painter to the king, he
was promoted by that body to the grade of councillor.
His work had the rare merit to satisfy at once both the
taste of his fashionable models and the judgment of his
brother artists. His art, consummate of its kind, achieved
T 0 U — T O U
487
the task of flattering his sitters, whilst hiding that flattery
behind the just and striking likeness which, says Mariette,
he hardly ever missed. His portraits of Rousseaa, of
Voltaire, of Louis XV,, of his queen, of the dauphin and
dauphiness, are- at once documents and masterpieces un-
surpassed except by his life-size portrait of Madame de
Pompadour, which, exhibited at the Salon 6f 1755, is still
the chief oroaraeot of the cabinet of pastels in the Louvre.
It is and will probably always be the most perfect model
of this class of work as long as time and damp spare the
fragile dust to which it owes its beauty. The museum of
St Quentm, however, also possesses a magnificent collection
of works which at his death were in his own hands De
la Tour retired to St Quentin at the age of 80, and there
he died on 17th February 1788. The riches amassed dur-
ing his long life were freely bestowed by him in great part
before his death , he founded prizes at the school of 6ne
arts in Pans and for the town of Amiens, and endowed
St Quentin with a great number of useful and charitable
institutions. He never married, but lived on terms of
warm affection with his brother (who survived him, and
left to the town tlie drawings now in the museum), and
bis relations to Mdlle. Fel. the celebrated singer, were dis-
tinguished by a strength and depth of feelmg not common
to the loves of the 1 8th century.
See, in addition to the general works on French art. Desraaze.
three works, of wltich tie most important is Lt iltlxquaxTt de la
Tour, Guifftcy and Toumeux, Corrcspondance bUdtU di -V Q de
la Tout , Ctiampfleury, Dc la Tout, and PciMres de Loon et de Si
Queniin; and DreoUe de Nodon, £loge Biographique de HI Q. de
la Tour
TOURACO, the name, evidently already in use, under
which in 1743 Edwards figured a pretty African bird,*
and presumab'y that applied to it in Guinea, whence it
had been brought alive. It is the Cuailus persa of Lin-
White-Crested Touraco ( Turacus albicris'atus). After Schle^el.
naeus, and Turacus or Corytkaix persa of later authors, who
perceived that it required generic separation. Cuvier, in
1799 or 1800. Latinized its native name (adopted in the
meanwhile by both French and German writers) as above,
for which barbarous term lUiger, in 1811, substituted a
' '.pparently the first ornithologist to make the bird known was
A" ,in, who figured it in 1738 from the life, yet badly, as **The Crown,
bird of Mexico." He had doubtless been misinformed as to its proper
country; but Touracos were called "Crown-birds" by the Europeans
in West Africa, as witness Bosnian's Description of the. Coast of Guinea
(1721). ed. 2, p. 251, and W. Smith's Voyage to Guinea (1745), p.
149. though the namo was aUo given to the Crowned Cranes,
flalearica.
more classical word. In 1788 Isert described and figured
(Beobackt. GesetUck. naturf. Freunde, iii. pp. 16-20, pi. 1)
a bird, also from Guinea, which he called Musophaga
viotacea. Its afhnity to the original Touraco was soon re-
cognized, and both forms have been joined by modern sys-
tematists in the Family Musophwjidx^ commonly Englished
Plantain-eaters or Touracos, sometimes spelt Tourakoos.
To take first the Plantain-eaters proper, or the genoa Musophaga^
of which only two species are known. One about the size of a
Crow is coinpiratively common in museums, and is readily recog-
nized by having tho horny base of its fine yellow bill prolonged
backwards over the forehead in a kind of shield. The top of the
head, and the primaries, except their outer edge and tip, are deep
crimson; a white streak extends beliind the eye; and the rest of
the plumage is of a rich glossy purple. The .<iecoQd species, M.
rossx, which is rare, chietly ditfers by wantinf; the white eye-streak.
Then of the Touracos — the species originally described is about
the size of a Jay, and has the head, crest (which is vertically com-
pressed and lipped with red), neck, and breast of a fine grass-green,
varied by two conspicuous white streaks — one, from the gape to the
upper part uf the ciimson orbit, separated by a black patch from
the other, which runs beneath ana behind the eye. The wing-
coverts, lower part of the back, and tail are of a bright steel purpl6,
the primaries deep crimson, edged and tipped with bluish-black.
Over a dozen other congeneric species, more or less resembling this.
have now been debcnbed, and all inhabit some district of Africa;
but there is oiily room here to mention that found in the Cape
Colony and Natal, where it is known as the " Lory" {cf. vol. xv.
p 7, note 11, and, though figured by Uaubenton and others, first
differentiated in 1841 by Strickland {Ann. Not. Bistory, vii. p.
ct3) as Tnracus alb tcr Ls[a( u^i —lis crest hav ng a conspicuous white
border, while the steel-purple of T. persa is replaced by a rich and
glossy bluish-green of no less beauty. In nearly all the species of
this genus the nostrils are almost completely bidden by the frontal
feathers; but there are two others in which, though closely allied,
this is not the case, and some systeraatists would place them id a
separate genus Gallircx, while anotlier species, the giant of the
Family, has been moved into a tiiird genus as Corythxola cnstala.
This differs from any of the foregoing by the absence of the crimson
coloration of the primaries, and seeuis to lead to another group,
Schizorrhis, in which the plumage is of a still plainer type, and,
moreover, the nostrils here are not only exposed but in the form of
a slit, instead of being oval as in all the rest. This genus contains
about half a dozen species, one of which, S. concolor, is the Grey
Touraco of the colonists in Natal, and is of an almost uniform slaty-
brown A good deal has. been written about these birds, which form
the subject of one of the most beautiful monographs evei published
— De Toerakos afgcbeld en tc^cftrei'en, — by Schlegel and Westerman.
brought out at Amsterdam in 1860; while the latest collected
information is contained in an elaborate essay by Herr Schalow
(Jour. f. Omilhtjlogie, 1886, pp. 1-77). Still, much remains to
be made known as to their distribution throughout Africa, and
their habits They seem to be all fruit-ealeis, and to frequent the
highest trees, seldom coming to the ground. Very little can be
confidently asserted as to theii nidification, but at least one speciea
of Schizorrhis is said to make a rough nest and therein lay three
eggs of a pale blue colour. An extraordinary peculiarity attends
the crimson coloration which adorns the primaries of so many of
the i\fusophfjgidfe. So long ago as 1813. Jules Verreaus observed
f Proc. Zool. Sociehj. 1S71, p 40) that in the case of T. albieristatui
this beautiful hue vanishes on exposure to heavy rain and reappears
only after some interval of time and when the leathers are dry.'
The Musopkagid^t form a very distinct Family of Prof
Huxley's Coccppomoyphne, having peihaps the ColiidiSc.^^
Cuculir/ai as their nearest allies. Eyton pointed out (Ann.
iVat. History^ ser 3, ii. p. 458) a feature possessed id
common by the latter and the Musopkagidae, in the " process
attached to the anterior edge of the ischium," which he
likened to the so-called "marsupial" bones of Didelphian
Mammals J T Reinhardt has also noticed ( Vufensk.
Med'iels. Naturhist, Forening^ 1871, pp. 326-341) another
Cuculine character offered by the os uncinatum aSixed
^ The fact of this colouring matter being soluble in %vater was inci-
dentally mentioned at a meeting of the Zoological Society hy Mr
Tegetmeier, and brought to the notice of Prof. Church, who, after
experiment, published in 1868 {Student and Intellectual Observer^ L
pp. 161-168) an account of it as "Turacin, a new animfvl pigment con-
taining copper," Further informatiou on the .subject was given by
Monteiro (Ckem. Ntws, xxviii. p. 201 ; Quart. Jmir. Science, ser. 2,
iv. p. 132). The property is possessed by the crimson feathers of all
the bii-ds of the Faruily.
488
T O U — T O TJ
to the lower side of the ethmoid in the Plantain-eaters
ind Touracos ; but too much, dependence must not be,
placed on that, since a similar structure is presented by ,
the Frigate-bird (vol. ix. p. 786) and th§ Petrels (vol
Kviii. p. 711). A corresponding process seems also to be
found in TiiooON (t/.v.). The "bill of nearly all the species
of Muioplwupdx is curiously serrated or denticulated along
the margin, and the feet have the outer toe reversible.
No member of the Family is found outside of the.conti-
nental portion of the Ethiopian Region. (a. n.)
TOURCOING, a manufa^cturing town of France in the
department of Nord, 7 mjl<)s north-east of Lille on the
railway to Ghent, is rapidly becoming one with ihe neigh-
bouring town oT RoDBAi.x {'i-v.'). Wool, cotton, linen, arid
silk are spun in more than 65 mills (40,000. spindles);
there are upwards of 25 combing establishifients (by
machine and hand), 50 to 55 manufactories of velvet-pile
carpet.*;, furniture stuffs, and all kinds of woven goods, be-
sides dye-works, soap-works, a sugar refinery, and machine
■workshops. The total industrial production of Tourcoing
may be set down at about £6,800,000 per annum. Tour-
coing possesses a chambei of commerce, a conseil de prud-
hommes, a consultative chamber of arts and manufactures,
a wool "conditioning" bureau, schools of drawing, paint-
ing, mnsic, and architecture, and a horticultural society.
In 18CG a pyriunid was erected to commemorate a battle
gained by Jourdan and .Mnreau in the ncighbourliooil in
HiU. The puj.ulntion, 34,415 in 1881, was 41,570 in
188G (commune 58.008).
Fjiiii'ti >iiiL»r the 1-ltti fcnhiiy for ilH wi.nlK'n mftimrat'tiirps,
Tuurctiiii^ wa^ liTiirif.i l.v tht KltTiiintrs when l.ouis ,\ I of Kiiincc
dit^'ftuti'J tilt iiilitiiiiiiH'e f.f Cli^iilcsilit.' Bi'ld wilii Mur\' r.t ttut<;iiiidy.
Tlie U'\^\t siitt. i«-'i mijth Irnni the KrHiuIi m 1^77, from ilic
]lu<:iN-riol« III l.'i.'irt, aiiil li) hn- III ItiO/ftnil 171 1 'I'Im- iiilmt)it;int>,
18,000 III Ke'.i >MH' ii'ilii...! h\ the Fri-IKll Kovi.Iuliun lo 10.11(10,
but a iicw ,1.1 .jf )>ioit|Trit> ti'-;::in in 18^2. In 1601 Ihc |h>|>u1u-
tioii of liie owiiiiiiiiii'- "i- J;i,49o. and in 1871 it w.as 43,322-
TOUliCUF.VIKKF, 1\ vN (1818- 18S:5), the descendant
of an old l!usMuii l.iiiiil^, «;is Ijoni a\ Orel, in the govern-
iiicnl of the sjinc ininii-, in I8I'< His talln.r, I lie colonel of
a cavalry rigiiiit.iil. ilieil «litii our auilim «u9 sixteen .'(ears
of a^'e. Icu>iii;j iw./ ■M.ns, Niuhohis and Ivan, «ho were
brc'Ui.'lil ii|' uiiiJL-i iliL care of ilii'ir niuthei, llii- heiress of
the Litvtiiull'.. a lady who owm-d large estate.* and many
.*orrs. Ivan stuiliril for a )ear at the iiiinerMty of .Mus-
cow, thfii at ."^t r> ii.T.-.lini^', and was tinally bent in ISj.'J
to Ijvrlio. lli» ciliicalion at liiniie liail Ixren conducted by
Gcrniaii and liviiih liHiirs, and v\as allogetlur foreign,
hi3 niulher only ^pi-aking Russian to her servaiit.s, as
became a great lady ot the old school. For his first
aci|u:untaMci- wiih ilio litrratuie of Ins country the future
novelist «.i^ iiiilel'iid to a serf of the family, who used
to lead to liiiii vcr.ses from the RusskiU ot Kheia-ikofI, a
oncecclubratid poet of last century. Tourguenielf's early
atteinpis in litnature, consisting of poems and trilling
sketches, may be passed over here , they were not witL-
out iiiilicjiiviis of genius, and were favourably spoken of
by lln,liiiski, then the leading Russian critic, foi wliiuii
TouryUL-niill ever cherished a warm regard. Our author
lirst made a name by his striking sketches " The I'apers
of a Sportsman" (Ziipixki Ohlmtuikd), in which the miser-
able condition of the peasants was de.srribeil «itli startling
realism. The work appeared in a collected fonii in 185'2.
It was read by all classes, including the ein|ieii)r himself,
and it undoubtedly hurried on the great wurk of eiiian-
cijrtlion. Tourgueniefl had always .synipathized with the
W7(i/(i/v , ho had often been witness of the Cruelties
of his mother, a narrow-minded and vindictive woman.
In some interesting pa/icrs recently contributed to the
"European Messenger" (Vieshiik Evriii>'i) by a lady
brought up in the household of Mme Tourgueniell, sad
detail* are given illustrative of her character. Thus the
dumb porter of gigantic stature, drawn with such power
in Miimji, one of our author's later sketches, was a real
person. We _are, moreover, told of his mother that she
could never understand how it was that her son became an
author, and thought that he "had degraded himself. How
could a Tourgaenieff submit himself to be criticized 1
The next production of the novelist was " A Nest of
Nobles " ( Dvoriansioe Gniezdo), a singularly pathetic
story, which greatly increased his reputation. This ap-
peared in 1859, and was followed the next year by "On
the Fve " {Nakan-une), — a tale which contains one yi his
most beautiful female characters, Helen. In 1862 wa»
published " Fathers and Children " (Otzi i Dieti), in which
the author admirably described the nihilistic doctrines
then beginning to spread in Russia, he himself inventing
the word nihilism, which seems likely to become permanent.
In 1867 appeared "Smoke" {Dim), and in 1877 his last
work of any length, " Virgin Soil " (Nov). Besides his
longer stories, many shorter ones were produced, some of
great beauty and full of subtile psychological analysis,
such as Rvdin, " The Diary of a Useless Man " (Dntunik
Lishiiayo Chelouieka), and others. These were afterwards
collected into three volumes. The last works of the great
novelist were " Poetry !u Prose " and " Clara Milich,"
which appeared in the pages of the " European Messenger."
Tourguenieff, during the latter jiart of his life, did
not reside much in Russia; he lived either at Baden
Baden or Paris, and chiefly with the family of the
celebrated singer Viardot Garcia, to the members of
which lie was much attached. He occasionally visited
England, and in 1879 the degree of D.C.L. was conferred
upon him by the university of Oxford. He died at
fjougival, near l'ari.% on September 4, 1"883 ; according to
his wish, his remains were taken to St Petersburg, and
buried in the Volkotf cemetery, near those of the critic
Bielmski.
Unquestionably Tourguenieff may be considered one of the
gro:iU'st novelists of our o« n or any. other times, and worthy to \ia
ranked with Thackeray, l>ickens, and George Eliot : wltli ihe genius
of the la.it of these he hun many alfinities. His studies of linmaii
natnie are [irofunnd. and he has the wide syinjtathies whiih are
essential to genius of the highest order. A inelanelioly. almost
Jiessiniist, feeling pervadt-s his writings, but jierhaj'S thl^ is always
found 111 thosi^ ulio havi- truly listened to the '* still, sad music
of linmanity." This morbid self^.iiialysis seems natural to the
Slavonic mind, and Tourguenietf has ^iven ahundant j>roof of
possessing it. The closing chajitei of *'A Nest of Nobles" is
one of the saddest and at the same time truest pagcS in ihe whole
range of existing novels. ^
Tlie writings of Tourguenieff have been made familiar to persons
uiiaoijuainted with Russian by Freiitli translations There are some
versions in Kiiglish. but the only two worthy of notice are the
tr.-tnslation of the " Nest of Nobles " under the name of " l..isa," by
Ml KaUlon, and " Virgin Soil," by the late Mr Aslitou iJllfee.
TOU I! MA LINE. See Eleotkicitv, vol. viii. p. 99 ; Geo-
Loov, viil X p. 2J8 , and Mi.nekalooy, vol xvi. p. 409.
TOUHNAl (Flem. Duoriui), a town of Belgium,'
capital of an arrondissemvnt in the province of llaiiiault,
5.'( miles liy rail west-south west from Brussels, is divided
into two parts by the Scheldt, which is here spanrred by
.sL'\i-ii bridges and lined with spacious tree-shaded quay.s.
The ohler, which is also the busier and more important
[lortion ui the town, stands on the left bank ; the .new
town is distinguished by its neat regular streets and
iiKidern architecture. The cathedral, which is a fine
exanijile of the Roiiiaiios(|ue style, is a cruciform basilica,
with a series of chapels and five to^ers. The nave was
probably consecrated in 1171; the transepts date from the
nth century, arrd the (Gothic) choir was completed in
1:(:!8, at which time also the lioiiianesi|ue fai;ade was
_alluied, and a porch in the Pointed style added. The
sculjitures in the porch range iii date from the 13th to the
T O U — T O U
489
17th ccnmiy, and doserve special notice, [larticularly those
of latfif dale by native artists. The general effect of the
interior ia harmonious and impressive. The capitals of
the pillarsare rich and varied ; the passage round the choir
contains scleral pictures of the Flemish school ; the richly
sculptured IJenaiss.-xnce roodloft dates from 1 566; and
most of the stained glass in the transept dates from about
14.'>G. "The adjacent bolfry, dating originally from 1187,
and partly rebuilt in 1391, was restored in 1853. In the
Grande Place, not far from the cathedral, is the church of
St Quentin, sometimes spokea of as " la petite cath^drale,"
in the Transition style, and nearly of the sam6 date as the
cathedral. ^ The church of St Jacques dates from the 1 3th
and Hth centuries, and that of St Brice from the 12lli.
The buildings cf the old monastery of St Martin, on the
south-west side of the town, aie now used as an hotel dc
ville, in coune.\ion with which there is a small picture
gallery containing seme examples of Rembrandt, Rubens,
and Van Dyck. The town contains courts of law, an
athenxum, a theatre, a school of arts and manufactures, an
episcopal palace and seminary, a nafUral history museum,
besides other public buildings. The fortifications of
Vauban, extended after the second treaty of Paris, are now
demolished, and their place taken by boulevards. The lead-
ing objects of manufacture are stockings and " Brussels "
carpets ; the other industries include paper-making, thread-
making, and the spinnina of wool and flax. The trade
of the place is very considerable, as vessels of 150 tons
burden can ascend the river to this point, and'its railway
■communications are good. 'The population in 1870 was
32,145.
Tournay, supposed to be thie CivUns JVcrviomm of Cjcsar, and
afterwanls known as Tournaciis, was one of the first pliices con-
?uered by the Fr.-inks. and Cloft'is ni.nle it for a time liis capital.
II modern times, standing as it does on the frontitr htrtwecii
Belgium and France, it has been fretpienlly besie"ed and taken.
History records specially the siege liy Alexander of rarma in 1581,
when it was bnively but unsuccessfully defended by the princess
D'Epinoy, whose statue now stands in the Grande Place, i*erkin
'V\'arbeck wa'? a native of Tournat
TOURNAMENTS. Tournaments and jousts were tb5>
chief military exercises and displays of the age of chivalry.
Besides being the appropnlite sports and pastimes of a
warlike era and caste, they vere intended to test the skill
and exhibit the prowess of the knights and squires who
took part in them. "Considered under their more serious
aspect, apart from their association with pomp and
festivity, they were, practically speaking, the equivalents
of the reviews and sham-fights of later times, and were
designed as a preparation for the actual manoeuvres and
real conflicts of the battlefield. Tournaments and jousts
differed from one another principally in the circunistance
that in the first several combatants on each side were
engaged at once, and in the second the contention was
between two combatants only. The former consisted of
the mutual charges of equal troops of cavalry, while the
latter consisted of a duel on horseback. Du Cange says
that the French toumoi, English " tournament," " was a
general expression which comprehended all sorts of com-
bats that were performed by way of exercise. But it more
properly meant such as were performed by companies,
■where many were in conflict against the same number,
representing the form of a battle. When those general
combats were ended, then single ones commenced ; for all
who were desirous of displaying their address, and attract-
ing public notice for their valour, offered single combat
with sword or lance against all who should present them-
selves"; and he adds that these combats were called by
the old French writers " joustes," which is the same word
as the English "jousts." Put jonsts were held far more
freqtieptly- then, -and quite independently of, regular
tournaments throughout the period in which the customs^
of chivalry were observed, and, according to some authori
itiesi, the lancealone was used in them, while in the others
all weapons except firearms were employed. In both cases
such weapons were usually although not invariably rendered
innocuous, and it was only, rarely that the combatants
were killed or injured by wounds, as distinguished from
falls and bruises. But in one way or another tournament-s
and jousts were always extremely dangerous, and a long
list of eminent persons met their deaths in them, from
l{aoul, Comte deGuines, to Henry II. of France. It may
be assumed that jousts in .some shape existed at all periods,'
in which men fought in armour and on horseback, and
Were in the habit of practising themselves in time of peace
for the exigencies of warfare. But it is very doubtful
when and where tournaments, in the proper sense of the
term, were originally instituted. The older writers on
the subject sought to connect them with the " Troja " or
" ludus Troj.'e " among the Romans. But this is a piece
of archaeology of the same sort as that which identified the
knighthood of the Middle Ages with the ancient "ordo
equestris," and will not, of course, bear examination. Much
reliance again has been placed by some of them on the
account of a sham-fight which was ield at the celebrated
interview between the emperor Louis and Charles the Bald
in 841, which in certain respects bore a close resemblance
to a tournament, and was no doubt the kind of exhibition
out of which the tournament of a later age was developed.'
Others attribute the institution of tournaments to the
emperor Henry the Fowler, who died in 936, or to Geoffrey
de Preuilly, the ancestor of the counts of Tours, who died
in 1066. However this may be, it is certain that they
were in vogue on the Continent at the end of the 1 1th
century, and that in the early part of the 12th century
they were introduced into England. In the 13th and 14th
centuries they were comraun all over Christendom, including
the Eastern as well as the Western empire and the states
comprised in or adjacent to it. It was not until the end
of the I6th century that tilts and hastiludes passed out of
fashion in Britain, and even in the earlier years of the 17th
rentury they were occasionally celebrated under the patron-'
age of Henry, prince of Wales, son of King James I.
, ^The older authorities od tournament.s and jousts arc exceedingly
nunierou.s. But all that is material in what they Iiave written will
be found in Ste Palaye's Mtmoircs sur I'Anctcnnc Clicvahne and
Mills's History of Chivalry, The '* Dissertations '* of Du Cange at
the end of Joinville's Mc-irwirs aud the Chronidcs of Froissart and
Monstrelet may also be consulted. Ste Palaye and Mills were both
industrious compilers, and the second is much indebted to the liist.
TOURNEBOUT, a wind instrument of wood, in which
a cylindrical column of air is set in vibration by a reedj
The lower extremity is turned up in a half circle, and from
this peculiarity it has gained the French names lotirnrboxit
and crnmorne, — the latter a corruption of the German name
Ki-ummhurn. There appears to be no English equivalent.!
The reed of the tournebout, like that of the bassoon, is
formed by two tongues of cane, adapted to the small end
of a conical brass tube, the large end being inserted in the
body of the instrument. It presents, however, this dilTcr-
ence, that it is not, like that of the bassoon, in contact with'
the player's mouth, but is covered again by a cap pierced
with a hole in the upper part, through wh.ich opening the
air is introduced which sets the reed in vibration, the
reed being therefore subject to no pressure of the li|is,l
The compass of the in.strumeqt is naturally limited to the
simple fundamental sounds which the successive opening
of the lateral holes gives rise to. The tournebouts have
not much length for the deep sounds they produce, wliich
arises from these instruments .jounding, like all tubes of
cylindrical bore pirovided with reeds, the same as the
stopped picas of en orgac That is to say, theoretically
XXIII. — 62
'490
T„0 U — T.O.E
they require oc!y haif the Isngtbe necesaary for the open
pipes of an organ, or for conical tubes pro-
vided with reeds, to produce notes of the
same pitch. Moreover, when, to obtain a
harmonic, the column of air is divided, the
tournebout will not give the octave like the
oboe and bassoon, but the twelfth, corre-
sponding in tliis peculiarity with the clarinet
and all stopped pipeS'br bourdODs.i With
the ordinary boring of eight lateral holes,
tlie tournebout possesses a limited scale era-
bracing a ninth. Sometimes, however, the
deeper sounds are completed by tlie addition
of one or more keys. By its structure the
tournebout is one of the oldest wind instru-
ments ; it is evidently derived from the
Greek aulos and the Roman tibia, which
consisted equally of a simple cylindrical
pipe of which the column of air was set in
vibration by a double reed.
Notwithstanding the successive improve-
ments that were iutroduced in the manu-
facture of wind instruments, the tournebout
scarcely ever varied in the details of its
construction. Such as we see it represented
in the treatise by Virdung ' we find it again "j
about the epoch of its dis-
appearance, in i'yl?-^ du Faiseur
'd' Instruments cie I' Encyciopedie .
'de Didi^-ot et d! AUmhert (Paris,,
1751-80).
The tourneboyts existed as a com-
plete fuuiily from the J.5th centuiy.^
According to Virdung, it was forraed of four individual instru-
raenis; Pr.etorius- cites five, — thj deep bass, the bass, the tenor
or alto, the cantus or soprano, and the high soprano, with com-
pass respectively of
Bass Toai*nebout.>
a^:
and
m
-\ — ^ — -± —
■^ A baod, or, to use the expression of Prie-
torius, an "accort," of tournebouts compre-
hended— 1 deep bass, 2 bass, 3 alto-tenor, 2
cantus (soprano), 1 high soprano = 9.
The tournebouts were not always an orchestra by themselves ;
they allied themselves also to other instruments, and notably to
flutes and oboes. It was thus that the little groups of musicians
in the service of princes, or those engaged by some large town on
the oceasion of a festival or public ceremony, were composed of
eeveral tournebout players combined with some flautists and obue
players. In 1685 the orchestra of the Neue Kliehe at Strasburg
comprised two tournebouts, and until the middle of the last century
these instruments formed part of the music called "la graude
ecurie" in the service of the French kings. Tournebouts have in
our days become of extreme latity, and scarcely exist in collections
The museum of the Conservatoire Royal de Musi(|ue at Uru.sscls
has the good fortune to possess a complete family, which is regarded
as having belonged to the duke of Feirara, Alphonso II. d'Este, a
prince who reigned from 1509 to 1597. The soprano {cantus or
discant) has the same compass as above, while the alto, the tenor
(furnished with a key), and bass have an extent respectively of
BE^
-4^-
BE
S
:t:
; and aim
dz
The bass {see accompanying figure), besides having two keys, is
distinguisiied from the others by a kind of small bolt, two of which
slide in grooves and close the two lioles that form the lowest notes
of the instrument. It is very curious to ob.serve that tlie employ-
ment of these bolts, placed at the extremity of the tournebout and
out of reach of the lingers of tho instrumeutalist, forces him to
Yetiuire the assistance of a person whose sole mission is to attend
to these bolls during the performance.
The "Platerspil" of which Virdung gives a drawing is only u
kind of tournebout. It presents espcciaUy the peculiarity that,
\
* iUttsica ydutscht tetld aus.zgeMffin, Basel, 151 l.y'
' J}ryanouraphiu, Wolfeubuttel, 1618. /•' ' ~
instead of having a cap to cover over cne reed, mere is a spherical
receiver surrounding the reed, to which the tabe for insufflation is
adapted. This receiver was of wood worked round, or perhaps
consisted of a simple gourd. "" {V. M.) ^
TOURNEFORT, Joseph Pitton be (1606-1708), ;a^
botanist of considerable reputation, "was born at Aix, in
Provence, in 1656., ^He studied in the convent of the
Jesuits at Aix, aud was destined for'the church, but the
death of his father left him free to follow his botanical
inclinations. After a couple of years tollecting, he studied
medicine at Montpellier, but soon returned to his favourite
pursuit, and was appointed professor of botany at the
Jardin des Planles in 1GS3. By the king's order he
.travelled through westtrn Europe, where he made very ex-
tensive collections, and sub.seciuently spent three years in
Greece and Asia Minor (1700-1702). Of this journey a
description in a series of letters was posthumously pub:
lished in 3 vols. (^Rdation d'un Voyaye du Levant, Lyons,
1717). His principal work is entitled Instituti<jne3 Bet
Herbariee (3 vols., Pari.s, 1700), and upon this rests chiefly
his claims to remembrance as one of the most eminent
of the systematic botanis\s who prepared the way for
Linnaeus. _ His exact po.sition among these has been dia-j
cussed at length by Sachs {Geschic/Ue d. Botanik^ Munich;
1875). He died December 28, 1708.
TOURNEUR, Cyeil, a tragic poetol the .first order,
has left no record of his existence beyond the respective
dates of his first and last extant works (lC00-lG13).OAn
allegorical poem, worthless as art and incomprehensible as
allegory, is the earliest of these ; an elegy ou the death of
Prince Henry, son of James L, is the latest. The two
plays on which his fame rests, and on which it will rest
for ever, were published respectively in 1607 and 1611,'
but all students have agreed to accept the internal evidence
which assures us that the later in date of publication must
be the earlier in dale of composition. > His only other
known work is an epicede on Sir Francis Yere, of no great
merit as poetry, but of some value as conveying in a
straightforward and masculine style the poet's ideal con-j
ception of a perfect knight or " happy warrior," comparable
by those who may think fit to compare it witii the more
nobly realized ideals of Chaucer and of Wordsworth. But
if Tourneur had left on record no more memorable evi-|
deuce of his powers than might fce supplied by the survival
of his elegies, he could certainly hSKiB claimed no liigher
place among English writers than is now oscupied by the
Rev. Charles Fitzgeoffrey, whose voluminous aud fecvgnt
elegy on Sir Francis Drake is indeed of more actunl value,'
historic or poetic, than either or than both of Tourneur's
elegiac rhapsodies. '^ The singular power, the singular
originality, and the singular limitution of his genius are
all equally obvious in Tfie Alfu-i^t's Tragedy, a dramatic
poem no less crude and jiuerile and violent in action and
evolution than simple aud noble and natural in expression
and in style.^ The executive faculty of the author is in
the metrical parts of his first play so imperfect as to sug-,
gest either incompetence or perversity in tho workman;
in The Rnrwjrr's Tragedy it is so magnificent, so siiiijile,
impeccable, aud sublime, that the finest jiassagcs of this
play can be compared only with the noblest examples of
tragic dialogue or monologue now extant in English or
in Greek. There is no trace of imitation or derivation
from an alien source in the genius of this poet, The first
editor of Webster has observed how often lie imitates
Shakespeare ; and, in fact, essentially and radically inde;
pendent as is Webster's genius also; the sovereign influence
of his master may be traced not only in the general tone
of his style, the general scheme of his coinpo.-sition, but
now and then in a direct and never an unworthy or
imperfect echo of Shakespeare's very phrase and accent.
But the resemblance between the tragic verse of Tourneur,
T 0 tJ — T O U
4f>l
anu the tragic verse of Shakespeare is simply such as
proves the natural affinity between two great dramatic ,
poets, whose inspiration partakes now and then of the
quality more proper to epic or to lyric poetry. The fiery
impulse, the rolling music, the vivid illustration of thought
by jets of insuppressible passion, the perpetual sustenance
of passion by the implacable persistency of thought, which
|re recognize as the dominant and distinctive qualities of
such poetry as finds vent in the utterances of Hamlet or of
Timon, we recognize also in the scarcely Ipss magnificent
poetry, the scarcely less fiery sarcasm, with which Tourneur
has informed the part of Vindice — a harder-headed Hamlet,
a saner and more practically savage and serious Timon.
He was a satirist as passionate as Juvenal or Swift, but
with a finer faith in goodness, a purer hope in its ultimate
security of triumph. "This fervent constancy of spirit
relieves the lurid gloom and widens the limited range of
a tragic imagination which otherwise might be felt as
oppressive rather than inspiriting. His grim and trehchant
humour is as peculiar in its sardonic passion as his elo-
quence is original in the strenuous music of its cadences,
in the roll of its rhythmic thunder. As a playwright,
his method was almost crude and rude in the headlong
straightforwardness of its energetic simplicity ; as an
artist in character, his interest wais intense but narrow,
his power magnificent but confined ; as a dramatic poet,
the force of his 'genius is great enough to ensure him an
enduring place among the foremost of the followers of
Shakespeare, _ , (a. c. s.)
. TOURS, a town of France, formerly the capital of
Touraine, now chef-lieu of the department of Indre-et-
Loire, the .see of an archbishop, and the headquarters of
the 9th corps d'arm^e, lies 145 miles (by rail) south-west
of Paris, on the left bank of the Loire, a little above the
Plan of Toots. .
junction of the Loire and Cher. Many foreigners, especi-
ally English, live at Tours, attracted by the town itself, its
mild climate, its beautiful situation in " the garden of
Trance," and the historic chateaus of the neighbourhood.
The Loire is crossed by two suspension bridges, by a rail-
way bridge, and by a fine stone bridge, but its waters too
often either expose large stretches of sand, or come down
in devastating flood. Many of the inhabitants belong
to the leisured class, and the town possesses societies of ,
Science, art, and literature, of agriculture, of horticulture,
bf archseology, of medicine, and a library (.50,000 volumes,
and 1200 MSS., including a gospel of the 8th century, on
which the kings of France took oath as honorary canons
of the church of St Martin). . The industrial establishments
include four large silk mills, tn'e printing and publishing
works of Mame (1200 workmen), manufactories of cloth.)
carpets, files, white lead, stained glass, boots and sliops^
and pottery. A considerable trede is carried on in wine,'
brandy, and dried fruits, and the sausages arid confecti'in-
ery of the town are well known. _ The population, 52,20^
in 1881, was 59,,^S.') in 1SS6.
Tours, under the Gauls the capital of the Turones or Turons,'
originally stood on the right bojak of the Loire, a little above the
present village of St Symphoricn. At first called Allioiios, the
town was al'teruards officially known as Cecsarodunum. The'
Romans lemoved the town from the hill where it originally stood to'
the plain on tlie left bank of the river Behind the preseni cathe-'
dral, remains of the amphitheatre (443 feet in length by 394 in'
breadth) built towards the end of the 2d century might till lately
be seen. Tours became Christian about 250 through the preaching
of Gatien, who founded the bishopric. The fir'^t cathedral was Unit
a hundred years later by St Litorius. The bishopiic became an
archbishopric when Gratian made Tours the cajiital of Lugdnnensis
Tertia, and about the same time the official name of Cssarodunum
was changed for that of Civitas Turonorum, St Martinj the great
apostle of the Gauls, was bishop of Tours in the 4tirteTitury, and
he was buried in a suburb jvhich soon became as important as the
town itself from the number of pilgrims who flocked to his tonih.j
Towards the end of the 4th century, apprehensive of barbarian inva-j
sion, the inhabitants pulled down some of their earlier buildings in
order to raise a fortified wall, the course of which can still be traced
in places. Their advanced fort of Laicay still overlooks the valley'
of the Cher. Affiliated to the .\rmorican confederation m 433, the
town did not fall to the Visigoths till 473, and the new nj.Tsters
were ajways hated. It became part of the Prankish dominions
under Clovis, who, in consideration of the help afforded by St .Martin,;
presented the church with rich gifts out of the spoils take.i from
Alaric, confirmed and extended its right of sanctuary, and acceptrd
for himself and his successors the title of canon of St .Martin. T.ie
basilica, built under Bishop St Perpetuus from 472 to 477, wa.s t;.e
largest and finest church of France, and one of the most important'
built in the AVest during the decline of the Roman empire : it is.
said by St Gregory of Tours to have been 160 feet long, 60 wide,'
and 45 high. It seems to have been one of the first which had^
an ambulatory round the choir. Tours grew rapidly in prosperity,
under the Jlerovingians, but abuse of the right of sanctuary led to
great disorder, and the church itself became a hotbed of crime.!
Charlemagne re-established discipline in the disorganized nionasteiy
and set over it the learned Alcnin, who established at Tours one of
the oldest public schools of Christian philosophy and theology.'
The abbey was made into a collegiate church in :be Uth century,-'
and was for a time affiliated to Cluny, but soon came unSer the
direct rule of Rome, and for long had bishops of its own. The
suburb in which the monastery was situated became as impoi-tant
4s Tours itself under the name of Martinopolis. The Normans,-
attracted by its riches, pillageil it in 853 and 903. Strong walls were
erected from 906 to 910, and in the 12th century the name was
changed to that of Chateauueuf Philip Augustus abolished the dis-
orderly commune in 1212, but the innumerable offerings cf princes,
lords, and pilgrims maintained the prosperity of the town all through
the Middle Ages. A 13th-ceutury writer speaks with enthusiasm of
the wealth and luxury of the inhabitants, of the beauty and cliasiity
of the women, and of the rich shrine of the saint. A third churfh,
replacing one which had been built after the burning of that of St
Perpetuus in 997, was begun in 1175, and finished in the lath
century. It was 374 feet long and 85 feet high, and had five
towers, of which only two remain. The rest of the church, sold
to speculators after the Revolution, disappeared under the first
empire. Of the monastic buildings, only a beautiful inclosed
gallery, built by Bastien Franfuis, nephew of Michel Colomb, iii^
the time of the Renaissance, remains, but the streets which formeriy,
belonged to Chateauneuf show many interesting relics of eoeiesi-;
astical and civil architecture. About 1130 Archbishop HiUlevert'
built a cathedral in the old Roman town itself, on the ruins of
those successively erected by Litorius and Gregory of Tours. This
was burnt in 1166 during the quarrel between Louis VII. of FranCii'
and Henry II. of England, the latter being lord of Tours and cor.nt'
of Anjou. The work was resumed in 1175, but not finished till
1547. Part of the towers belong to the 12th century ; the choir to
the 13th ; the transept and first bays of tlie nave to the 14th ; the
remaining bays, the cloister on the north, and the fine facade to
the 15th ; and the two Renaissance towers (217 feet and 223 feet)
to the I6th. The- building is . nevertheless remarkable for thi
harmony and regularity of its construction ; specially noteworthy,
details are the triple western portal, the upper staircase of the
north tower, a Renaissance staircasd iu the cloister,, the old .wood-l
work in chestnut-wood, and the splendid glass of the 13th, 14^0i,i
and 15th;' Centuries. A pretty little mausoleum, built in 1506
by Jean Juste, is the burial-place o( .three young sous of Charlc^
492
T. 0 U — T O W
VIII. The arclibishop's palace is to the right of the cathedral,
with an interesting clc.npel of the 12lh century, and an outside
pulpit of the 16th. During the 10th century the Benedictine
nbbey of St Julien was re-est.iblished hy Archbishop Theotoion,
and a Ronianesiine chuicli built, of which the great square lower
still rcniains. St JuUen h.as a fine nave and double aisles; the
slraigiit terminal wai! has two 16tli century apses attached. There
arc some paintings of the 12th ocntuiy under the tuwcj.
The magniSccuce of Tours declined in th= 14th century . it was
thin united to Chatcauneuf by a common wall, of which an clog.int
round tower (the Tour de Guise) remains near the quay, and both
touiis were put under the same goTcrnment. The numerous and
long cuMtmucd visits of Charles VII , Louis XI , and Charles VIII.
in Toui.iine duiiug the 15lh century favoured the conimeiLe and
industry of the town, then peopled by 75,000 inhabitants To the
lloiirishing school of art which existed at the Kcnais.sance aie due
several private houses, a fountain, and the church of Notie Dame
La liiche, with splendid windows by Piniigricr. An uciniportaiit
building, pait ofa modern chateau, is all that remains of the royal
residence and maginficent gardens of Fle.ssis l.-s-Tours, where Louis
XI shut himself up and died, the states in 1506 proclaimed Louis
XII the father of his people, and Henry 111 and Henry of Navarre
united in 1589 again«t" tiie League From that year Tours was
dcseit^d by the kings of France. A fine bridge of fifteen arches
was built across the Loire from 17(55 to 1777 by Bayeux. The
chief modem buildings are the theatre, the church of St Joseph,
the railway station, aud a museum with collections of antiquities,
pictures, pottery, aud mineralogy. There nre also antiquities in
the museum of the archicological society of Indre-et-Loire. The
gardens and a remaikable portal of the archbishop's palace, a
magnificent iron ^ato ofi the ISth century in the prefectme, once
tht' convent of the Visitation, and the general hospital (1200 "leds)
ehould also be mentioned. In 1870 Tours was the seat oi the
government of the national defence. Tours is the birthplace of
the heretic Berengarius, the two marshals tJoucicaut, the novelist
Honore do Balzac, the poet Destoiiches, the painters Fouquet aD»
Clouet, and Madame de la Valliero.
TOUSS.MNT LOUVERTURE, PreRRE Dominique
(174G-1803), one of the liberators of Hayti, claimed to be
descended from an African chief, bis father, a slave in
Hayti, being the chief's second son He •A'as born ■20th
May 174G at Ureda, and was at first surnamed Breda,
which was changed to Louverture in token of the results
of bis valour in causing a gap in the ranks of the enemy.
From childhood he manifested unusual abilities, and suc-
ceeded, by making the utmost use of every opportunity,
in obtaining a remarkably good education. He obtained
the special confidence of his master, and was made super-
intendent of the other negroes on the plantation. After
the insurrection of 1791 he joined the insurgents, and,
having acquired some knowledge of surgery and medicine,
acted as physician to the forces. His rapid rise in influ-
ence aroused, however, the jealousy of Jean Francois, wlio
caused his arrest on the ground of his partiality to the
whites. He was liberated by the rival insurgent chief
Baisson, and a partisan war ensued, but after the death
of Baisson he placed himself under the orders of Jean
Franijois. Sub.sequenlly be joined the Spaniards, but,
when the French Government ratified the Act declaring the
freedom of the slaves, he came to the aid of the French.
In 1796 he was named commandei-inchief of the armies
of St Domingo, but, having raised and disciplined a power-
ful army of blacks, he made himself master of the whole
country, renounced the authority of France, and announced
himself " the Buonaparte of St Domingo." For further
details of his career see Hayti (vol. xi. p 545). He was
taken prisoner by treachery on the part of France, and died
in the prison of Joux, near Besamjon, 27th April 1803.
See MiynoiTcs written by himself, 1853; Saint-Remy, Vie dc
Toitssaiut Louverture, 1850 , Gragnon-Lacoste, TmtAsautt Louver-
lure, Gtniral en Chif de VArmie de SaiiU- Domingite surnoiii}iie U
Previkr des Koirs, based on private papers of the Louverture
family, 1877
TOWN, TOWNSHIP. See Borough, City. Moni-
ciPAMTY, and United State-s, pp. 731, 8'27.
TOWNSHEND, Ch.vrles Townshend, Second Vis-
count (1G74-1738), a statesman of unsullied integrity,
was the eldest son of Horatio, the first viscount, and was
born in 1674. He succeeded to the peerage i . JececibCK
16S7, and was educated at Eton and King's Ccilege, Cam.
bridge. When he took his seat in the House of Lords bis
sympathies leant to Toryism, but this predilection £-jon
faded away, and in February 1701-2 it was rumoured
among the courtiers that he would hold the ofBce of f ■'ivj
seal in the Whig ministry which William ILI. had in view.
For some years after the accession of Queen Anne ha
remained without olfice, but on '29th September 1707 he
was created captain of the yeomen of the guard, and io
(lie same year h& was summoned to the privy council, a
distinction renewed by the queen's two successors on ihfl
throne. The command of the yeomen remained in his
hands until 13th June 1711, but its responsibilities did
not prevent him from acting as joint plenipotentiary with
the duke of Marlborough in the peace negotiations with
France which were car.-ied on at Gertruydenberg, neaf
Breda, or from servin^' asamba-ssador extraoidinary at The
Hague congress (-2^ Ma.v 1709-2Gth March 1711) Town-
shend was high n: favour with George I., and en that
kioc's arrival at The Hague In September 1714 be pub-
lis! ed the appointment of Townshend as secretary o' state
for iiie soutbetn department, and entrusted to hi; new
minisl''' the j;nvilege of nominating his own cull> ague.
Horace "-ilpole, his brother inlaw and private seci-i-ary,
recommt . ied St-inhope for the vacant post, and Slarhope
was (ijly appointed. Townshend did not neglect to avail
h:;^ijt!t' of the advantages afforded by his attendants on
^he liirig, and before the arrival of George I. in Eugland
je had obtained complete ascendency both over his mind
and the dispositions of the advisers by whom his line of
conduct xvf.s generally determined. The policy of the new
ministers .it home and abroad lay in the promotion of
peace. Witb this object they endeavoured to limit the
charges agaic-;t their predecessor Harley, Lord Oxford, to
high crime.s and misdemeanours. To gain this end thej
brought about, in 1716, an alliance between those ancient
rivals in arms, France and England. !a spite of their
success, their infiuence was gradually undermined by the
intrigues of Lord Sunderland ind by thediscoutent of the
Hanoverian favourites, who deemed the places and the
pensions which they had gained a.-i insufficient reward for
their exertions. In October 1716 Stanhope accompanied
the king on his jourr. y to Ha-nover, and during this visit
was seduced from his i.Uegiance to hi- colleagijes by the
wily Sunderland, who hi i ingratiated hitcself into the royal
favour. George I was induced to believe that Townshend
and Walpole were caballing with the prince of Wales, and
were forming designs against the royal autho,-ity. Town-
shend was dismissed in December 1716 from .'i;s fflace of
secretary of sfte, and was offered in lieu thereof the
splendid banisltment of lord lieuter.ant of Ireland, a gilded
sinecure which he at first contem;>tuous)y declined and
only condescended ultimately to ace , t on the condition
that he was not required to set foot on Irish soil. His
latent spirit of hostility to this arrangement quickly devel-
oped into open antagonism, and in March 1717 Townshend
was dismissed from his position. At the close of May
1720 a partial reconciliation took place between the op-
[losing Whig sections of Stanhope and Townshend. The
latter was readmitted into the ministry as lord president oi
the council (11th June 1720), and his devoted relation and
colleague Sir Robert Walpole became paymaster-general
When" the South .Sea Bubble burst, the fortunes of the
principal members of the ministry shared in the misfortuna
of the scheme which they had promoted. Stanhope, in a
paroxysm of pa.ssion during a heated debate, broke a blood-
ves.sel, and Sunderland, though acquitted of the charge of
personal corruption, «as forced to retire into private Ufa
The withdiawal of these statesmen assigned to their rivals
TOW N'S ff E N r
49S
ihe chief pniea id thu siatc Towu^Lctxl becscie (10th
Febru^y 1721) setreUry of state, and Walpolo gained the
positioi^ of 6rst lord of the treasury and chancellor of the
exchequer The death of George I. threatened a change
of odvuert, but the dismay of the new king's favourite,
Spencer Compton, at being called upon to draw up the
royal speech, led to the old ministers of the crown being
retained in their pUttis. WLai the attacks of the opposi
tioo could uot eSect, the internal strife of the administra
tion acconiplishc'l. TownabcnJ waa of a proud, impetuous
disposition, born with a nature more accustomed to rule
than to obey His family bad for several generations
Stood higher in the social life of Nurfulk than Walpole'a
piogeiiitor^ and «'hcu he himself attinne.! to distinction In
politics his position as a Oiember of the I'ppor House was
greater than that enjoyed by his friend in the Commons
As the power of the Lower House iucf eased, and as
Walpole became more and more the object of the attacks
of the Tories, the pre eminence of Townsbeud passed from
him. So long, to use the witty remark of Sir Robert
Walpole, as the firni was Toonshend and Wal|jole, things
went well wuh tliem. I'ut wLen the p<isitiona were r&
versed jealousies aiose between the parlneis. The grow-
ing alienation was hastened by the death, In 1726, of
the secretary s wife, the sister of Walpole At the close
of ]""J9 TownsDend endeavoured to obiain the appoint-
ment nf his old and attached friend. Lord Chesterfield, as
bis fellow secretary of slate, and the failure of the attempt
brought about a iierce scene between Walpole and himself.
They broke out into passionate words, seized one another
by their coat-collars, and would have come to blows had
they not been prevented by tbeir friends who were pre-
eent. After this outbreak of passion further co-operation
was impossible, and Townshend, having the good sense
to recognize the position, retired into private life on 15th
May 1730. The chief domestic events of his "ministry
were the impeachment of Bishop Atlerbury, the partial
restoration of Lord Bolingbroke, and the troubles in Ireland
over the granting to a man called Wood of a patent for
coining pence. Its concluding act was the signing of the
treaty of Seville (9tli November 1729) Townshend died
of apopleiy 21st June 1738
TowDsheod rt-aa sl.iw in forming, but rpsolute in adhering to,
his rtpinioo. aotl like most ollici nit-n of iliai slarnp. was nopatiL-nt
of contTdJiriion His manners have lj,.-en siyjcj "coarse, nislic.
and seemingly bnjul, ' but these <iefett> wer* not visiMc in hi-*
domestif lifti Never did niiuister leave oftue wnh cit-atier han<ls.
be Ji<l n<-t I'M <^nr- tyirt to bis estate not leave tar^c fortunes to Llh
yoenget children
TaWNSHENT), CbaRLES (1725-1767), a politician
6\et to be remembered as the embodiment of wit and in
uisiretion. wai the second son of Charles, third Viscount
Townshend. who married Audrey, the daughter and heiress
of Edward Hurris(:n of Balls Park, near Hertford, a lady
who rivalled her son in brilliaocy of wit and frankness
sf eipression Charles was born 29tb August 172.5, and
was sent for his education to Leydeo and Oxford. At the
Dutch uaiversiiy. where he matriculated 27th October
1745, he ftsstKiated with a small knot of English youth.';,
iflerwards well known in various circles of life, among
whom were Askew, the book collector, Dowdeswell, his
lubsequent rival in politics, Wilkes, the witty and un-
principled reformer, and AJexaodei Carlyle. the grnial
bcolthman. who devole,< some of the pnges of his Aulnliut
jTaphy to chronicling their sayings and their doings He
represented Great Yarmouth in parliament from 1747 to
1761. when he found a seat in the treasury borough of
Barwich Public attention wa.s first drawn to his abilitie-<<
B 1763. when he delivered a lively attack, as a younjjer
ion who might hope to proi^iote his advancement by allying
liuiselt in marriage to a wealthy heiress, aeainst Lord !
HarawicSes moirUgB bill Although this measure passed
into law, he attained this object in August of the follow-
ing year by marrying Caroline, the elde-st daughter of the
second duke of Argyle and the widow of Francis, Lord
Dalkeith, the eldest son of the second duke of Buccleugh.
In April 1754 Townshend was transferred from the posi-
tion of a member of the Board of Trade, which he had
held from 174 9. to that ol a lord of the admiralty, but
at the close of 1755 his passionate attack against the
policy of the ministry, an attack which shared in popular
e.tiniation witli the scathing denunciations of Put, the
supreme success of Single-Speech Hamilton, and the liope-
less failure of Lord Chesterfield's illegitimate son, caused
his instant dismissal In the administration which was
formed in December 1T36, and which was ruled by Pitt,
the lucrative office ol tieasurer of the chamber was given
to Townshend, and in the following spring he was sunji
moned to the privy council With the accession of the
new mont.rch m 1760 this volatile politician transferred
his attent ons from Pitt to the young king's favourite, Bute,
and wher, at the lattet's insLnnce, seveial changes were
made in the ministry, Townshend wa^ promoted to the
post of secretary of war In this place he remained after
the great commoner had withdrawn from the cabinet, but
in December 1762 he threw it up. Bute, alarmed at the
growth in numbers and in inBuence ol his enemies, tried
to buy back Townshend's co-operation by sundry tempting
promises, and at last secured his object in March 1763
with the presidency of the Board of Trade When Bute
retired and George Grenville accepted the cares of official
life, the higher post of first lord of the admiralty fell to
Townshend's lot, but with his usual impetuosity he pre-
sumed to designate one of his satellites to a place under
him at the board, and the refusal to accept the nomioatioQ
led to his exclusion from tjie new administration. While
in opposition his mind was swayed to and fro with con-
flicting emotions of dislike to the head of tho ministry and
of desire to share in the spoils of office. The latter feeling
ultimately triumphed ; he condescended to accept in the
dying days of Crenville's cabinet, and to retain through
the " lutestring " administration of Lord Rockingham, —
" pretty summer wear," as Townshend styled it, " but it
will never .nand the winter," — the highly paid jiosition of
paymaster-general, refusing to identify himself more closely
with its fortunes as chancellor of the exche<|uer. The
position which he refused from the hand^ of Lord Rocking-
ham he was forced to accept from the imjicrious Pitt
(August 17C6), and a few weeks later his urgent appeals
to the great nnnisler for inrrea-sed power were favourably
answered, and he was adnutted to the inner circle of the
cabinet. Dowdu-swell, his predcie.ssor at the excliequcr,
resented his removal lor his brilliunt riv.il The new
chancellor pro[iosed the continuance ol the land ta.x at
four shillings In the pound, while he held nut hopes that
it might be reduced next yeiii to threi slullinp.s, where-
upon his predecessor, by thi- aid of the Lin. led j;i nlleincn,
carried a motion that the redmiion .slruiM tike ctlei t ,it
once. This defeat proved a great moitilii:itiiin In Lord
(Ipiithani. and in his irritation .igainsi To«n>lii nd Inr this
bhiw, as well as for some aits of liisubordiiiillnn, he
iiiudilated the removal of his .-hi'Wy riilUa^'ue Before
this eould be arcoinplHhed Ch-iiham '^ iiiiird bee.'ime im-
paired by .some mystirions malady, and Tnwnsliend. who
was the most dell riiiiiied mid influenli.il ol bis cilleagiics,
swayed the mini.stry as he likiid. Hi-- wife vv.-u-. created
(August 17G7) Baroness (jicenwich. and his brother was
made lord-lieulenant of Ireland He biniself deliveivd m
the House of Commons many sjieechts unriMilled in
parliamentary history for wit and recklessness, and one of
them still lives in history as the " champagne etMwJi/
494
T 0 X — T R A
His last act was to pass thiougli parliament resolutions
which even his colleagues deprecated in the cabinet, for
taxing several articles, such as glass, paper, and tea, on
their importation into America, which he estimated would
produce the insignificant sum of £40,000 for the English
treasury, and which shrewder observers prophesied would
lead to the loss of the American colonies. Shortly after
this event he retired to his wile's country seat in Oxford-
shire, where he died on 4th September 1767, from a fever
which he had neglected.
The universal tribute of Townshend's colleagues allows him the
possession of boundless wit and ready eloquence, set off by perfect
melody of intonation, but marred by an unexampled lack of judg-
ment and discretion. He shifted his ground in politics with every
new moon, and the world fastened on him the nickuamt, which he
iiiinself adopted in his "champagne" speech, of the Weathercock.
His official knowledge was considerable ; and it would be unjust to
his memory to ignore the praises of his contemporaries or his
profound knowledge of his country's commercial interests. The
House of Commons recognized in him its spoilt child, and Burke
happily said that ' ' he never thought, did, or said anything " with-
out judging its effect on his fellow-members. Charles Townshend
is the subject of a memoir by Mr Percy Fitzgerald.
TOXICOLOGY. See Poisons.
TRACHIS, a city of ancient Greece, at the foot of
Mount QEta,-a little to the north-west of Thermopylae.
As commanding the approach to Thermopylse from Thes-
saly, it was a place of great military importance. Accord-
ing to Homer, it was one of the places subject to Achilles,
and was famed in legend as the scene of Hercales's death —
an event which forms the subject of Sophocles's play The
Trachinian Women. In historical times it first attained
importance on the foundation of Heraclea by the Spartans
in 426 B.C. The Thessalians, jealous of the establishment
of a Spartan outpost on their borders, attacked Heraclea,
and in 420 the Heracleots were defeated by them with
heavy loss. In the winter of 409-8 Heraclea sustained
another disastrous defeat. In 395 the Thebans expelled
the Spartans, and restored the city to the old Trachinian
and (Etiean inhabitants. In later times Heraclea was one
of the mainstays of the yEtolian power in northern Greece.
In 191 B.C., after the defeat of Antiochus at Thermopylae,
Heraclea was besieged and taken from the .^tolians by
the Romans under the consul Acilius Glabrio. From Livy's
account of the siege (xxxvi. 24), it appears that the citadel
was outside the town, which lay on the low ground be-
tween the rivers Karvunaria (Asopus) and Mavra-Neria
(Melas). There are still traces of the citadel on a lofty
rock above.
TRACT SOCIETIES are associations for publishing
or circulating religious treatises or books. The Circulation
of short treatises for the promotion of Christian know-
ledge is older than the invention of printing. Wickliffe,
for instance, was a great writer and circulator of tracts,
employing his Oxford friends and pupils to multiply
copies. So was Luther in his day, with the help by that
time of printer and bookseller. In later times John Wesley
was a busy worker in this way; and Hannah More, from
her own pen, produced what were known as the " Cheap
Repository Tracts," highly lauded by Bishop Porteus,
and widely used towards the close of the 18th century.
Before this time there had been efforts of associated
labour for the same object, a " book society for promoting
religious knowledge among the poor " having been estat
lished in 1750. A similar society was formed at Edin-
burgh in 1793. Lut it was at the close of the century, in
1799, that there was founded in London the Religious
Tract Society, an 'nstitution unparalleled in the extent
and variety of its operations, 'and the parent of numerous
societies ir diffjrent parts of the emigre as well as in the
United States and on the continent of Eu.ope. There are
other associations with kindred objects, but m connexion
with particular ecclesiastical systems. Thus the tract
department of the Christian Knowledge Society is specially
connected with the Church of England; and the Wesleyans,
Baptists, and other denominations have their own tract
societies. The Church of Rome also has now similar
associations. The Religious Tract Society is alone in being
conhned to the diffusion of religious truth common to all
Protestant Christians, to the exclusion of topics touched
by ecclesiastical divisions. This catholicity is secured by
the fundamental rules of the society, and by its managing
committee being composed half of Churchmen and half of
Nonconformists of all denominations.
A brief statement of the proceedings of the Religious Tnet
Society, as presented in its latest annual i2(7wr(, will best serve ta
show the general objects and operations of all such organizations,—
any special or varied action elsewhere adopted being noted as we
proceed. The main object of the society is the preparation and
publication of religious literature. At first this consisted mostly
of tracts and small treatises. After a time larger books were puh-
lished, including series of reprinted works of the early Reformers
and English Protestant theologians and Biblical cxpositoi's, and
also books on common subjects treated in a religious spirit The
society also issues magazines for all classes. Four of these period-
icals, the Leisure Hour, the Sunday at Home, the Jioys^ Own Paper,
and tlie Girls' Chim Paper, have a united circulation, including
monthly parts and yearly volumes, of nearly -600,000 numbers
weekly, or above 30 millions in th? year. The trotal annual issue,
including books, tracts, &c., at home a,nd abroad, is nearly 88
milUons.
The distribution of this is chiefly through the ordinary channels
of trade, with the exception of the tracts, which are circulated by
home and foreign missionary societies, and various agencies public
and private. Almost every missionary agency is indebted to the
Religious Tract Society for the work carried on through the press.
Grants are made, either free or as nearly as possible at cost price ;
and, when it is advisable to produce publications at foreign stations,
grants of paper and other material, as well as money payments,
are voted. The publications are in almost every tongue, the list
containing works in 174 languages and dialects.
The funds for this large and varied work come partly from
donations, subscriptions, and legacies, but chiefly from the profits
of the sales of the society's publications. The total missionary
and evangelistic expenditure in the year ending March 31, 1886,
amounted to £47,722, of which £19,019 was supplied from the trade
funds, which have also borne the entire cost of management, bo^h
of the business and missionary departments. The total amount
received from - sales, subscriptions, and all other sources was
£212,731, lis. 8d.
The American Traot Society and some of the Continental
societies undertake the distribution as well as the production of
tracts and books, by means of paid colporteurs and other agents.
The Continental societies produce most of their own books and
tracts, aided largely by grants of money and paper from the
Religious Tract Society.
TRACTION, Electeic. The driving of vehicles by
electricity was made commercially practicable by the in-
vention of the dynamo-electric machine, which gave a
ready means of producing electrical energy by the expendi-
ture of mechanical work, and by the further discovery that
the function of the dynamo could be reversed, — that it
was capable of acting efficiently as a motor to do mechan-
ical work when supplied with energy in the electrical
form. Experiment has shown that when a dynamo is
used to produce an electric current, which, in its turn,
drives another dynamo serving as a motor, the double con-
version of energy may be performed with no very serious
loss. In favourable cases, when the dynamo and motor
are close together, the motor will yield more than 80 per
cent, of the work which is spent in driving the dynamo.
When they are far apart there is an additional loss, due to
the resistance of the conductor which connects them, and
a further loss due to its imperfect insulation. The use o'
high electromotive force, which reduces the first of these,
tends to increase the second ; it is, however, practicable
to keep both within reasonable limits. Early attempts to
apply electricity to traction were made by Robert David-
son, who placed an electromagnetic locomotive on the
Edinburgh and Glasgow Railway in 1837, and by Jacobi
TRACTIOK
495
of St Petersburg, who propelled a boat oq the Neva in
1839 by an electromagnetic engine driven by a battery
of Grove's cells. The inefficiency and bulkiness of early
electrotnot)rs, and the cost of producing electric energy
vhea a galvanic battery was the source, made it impossible
for electricity under such conditions as these to compete
with other methods of traction. A good battery using
zinc as the active metal consumes from 1 to 2 fi) of zinc
per hour per horse-power developed ; a good steam-engine
consumes from 2 to 3 lb of coal in doing the same amount of
work, and the cost of zinc is about fifty times that of coal.
Hence, notwithstanding modern improvements in electro-
motors, the cost of producing mechanical power by means
of electricity, when a zinc-consuming battery is the sourc^
is still prohibitive.
The earliest practical electric railway was constructed at
tne Berlin exhibition of 1879 by Dr \Verner Siemens. At
one station was a dynamo driven (by a steam-engine. The
current was conducted to the moving car through a special
rail placed between the ordinary irails and insulated from
the ground by blocks of wood. Trom this rail it passed
through a motor-dynamo on the car, and the ordinary rails
completed the circuit. Electrical contact with the ordinary
rails was made by the wheels, and with the central rail
by a pair of bushes made of copper wire which rubbed
against its sides Spur-wheels were used to connect the
motor shaft with the wheels and to effect a suitable reduc-
tion of speed. The line was half a mile long and of 2-feet
gauge. The motor developed about 3i horse-power, and
was carried by a separate truck, forming a locomotive
which drew a car with 20 passengers at a speed of from 4
to 7 miles an lionr.
The success of the Berlin experim,ent was complete, and
Messrs SiemeTis followed it up in 1881 by the construction
of a permanent electric tramway, IJ miles in length, at
Lichterfelde, which has now (1887) been in continuous
operation for six years. At Lichterfelde the ordinary
rails, iusulated by wooden sleepers, are the only con-
ductors. \\Tiere roads cross the line the rails are cut out
of circuit, and the (iurrjnt is carried past the gap by
onderground ci.bles, but switches are provided by which
the current can be sent into the insulated sections if re-
quired. Each :ar takes 24 passengers, and runs at a speed
of 1 2 milec an hour. There is no separate locomotive, the
mo'or-dyn mo being on the car itself. Ip 1882 Messrs
Siemens constructed an electric tramway in the mines of
Zankerode, in Saxon>, and built for it a locomotive able to
draw 8 tons at a speed of 7i miles an hour. Overhead
conductors were employed, cdnsisting of a pair of insulated
1-shaped rails fixed to the roof of the workings; the
current was conveyed to and from the locomotive by means
of a pair of contact carriages sliding on these conductors,
and connected with the car by short flexible cables. A
Bimilar line was opened in 1883 at the Hohenzollem col-
liery in Upper Silesia.
The same year witnessed the completion of another
pioneer underta ang~af— the first importance, an electric
tramway 6 miles long connecting Portrush and Bushmills,
in the north of Ireland. Here the insulated conductor is
a special rail, carried alongside of the line on wooden posts
at a height of 1 i feet above the ground. Contact is made
by springs shaped like carriage-springs, which project from
one side of the car at both ends, so that the length of the
car enables continuous contact to be maintained at cross-
roads, where there are gaps in the conducting rail, past
which the current is taken by underground cables. The
ordinary rails serve as return conductors. The dynamos
Sre driven by turbines at a station nearly a mile distant
from the line; they supply a current of 100 amperes
with an electromotive force of 250 volts. The motors are
placed on passenger cars ; their speed is regulated by
means of resistance coils, which the driver of. the car
switches into the circuit. A similar tramway, 3 miles
long, connecting Bessbrook and Newry, was opened in
1885; there also water-power is made use of to driva
the generating dynamos. On these lines the train wsui
ally consists of a motor car with passengers, followed by
two or three goods waggons, and the whole working ex-
penses are from 3d. to 4d. per train-mile. The speed <s
10 miles an hour.
Amongst early electrical railways Mr Volk's short line
on the beach at Brightoa deserves mention. There the
rails themselves act as conductors, and are insulated only
by wooden sleepers lying on the shingle. The line has
been in operation since 1883, with a working expense of
only 2d. per car-mile.
Other English and Continental lines will be referred to
later ; it is, however, in America that electrical traction
has hitherto found its widest development. In 1880 Mr
Edison ran an electric locomotive on an experimental track
near his laboratory at Menio Park. Soon after the Chicago
exhibition of 1883, at which an electric railway was shown
in action, a large number of permanent lines were estah'
lished. There are now more than twenty electrical tram-
ways at work in the United States, under the patents ot
Edison, Field, Daft, Van l)epoele, Sprague, and others.
Many more lines are projected, and experiments are in
progress on the application of electrical traction on a large
scale to the elevated railways of New York.
In all the instances which have been referred to above, electricity Electdc
is employed as a means of transmitting power as it is wanted from traction
a generating station to the cars, through a conductor extending by storag*
along the track. Another method of effecting electric traction is batteruSu
to carry a store of energy on the car or on a special locomotive, by
using secondary batteries which are charged from time to time at
the generating station. This system, which was introduced in
England by Mr Reckenzaun and on the Continent bv il. Julien,
has been successfully employed on several lines.
'The system of storage, by means of secondary batteries, has the'
^eat advantage over the system of transmission through a con-
ductor that it makes each car independent and that it is applicable
to ordinary tramway lines. As regards economy of power, we have
in the storage system a more complex series of transformation of
energy, and therefore a larger number of itenis of loss. In both
systems alike we have a certain loss of energy at the" dynamo and at
the motor. A secondary battery yields in the electrical form only
about 70 per cent of the energy given to it. In comparing the two
methods, the loss which this involves has to be set off against that
which occurs in the transmission system in the process of conduc-
tion, an item which may be very small ia favourable cases, but which
becomes large when there are inuny cars to be driven, when the
line is long, and when, owing to the use of an exposed conducior,
the electromotive force has lo be kept low. Under average con-
ditions it is probable that the conductor system has a slight ad-
vantage over the other in this respect, but the difference is not
material, especially as the cost of power is a comparatively small
part of the whole working expense of a line. The dillerence is
slightly affected by the fact that in the storage system there is an
extra weight to be carried — namelj*, the batteries — amounting to
about } or i of the whole weight, and the t^acti^■c force required to
overcome friction is increased in acorrespondingdegiee. A serious
objection to the storage system is the probable cost of renewing
batteries. In respect, however, both of durability and of power
(in relation to weight) secondary batteries have of late undergone
a marked improvement: and it is likely that the storage system
will prove the most applicable to tramways in city streets, where
conductor^ on the level of the road are impracticable and overhead
conductors would not be ]ierniitted.
The existing methods of electrical traction as applied to tramways Classifi6a
may be classified as follows: — tion or
I. Jlotor driven by storage batteries, the batteries and motor systems.,
being carried either (a) in the car itself or (6) on a separate truck
forming a locomotive. Eeckcnzauu's and Julicn's tars, "in whicU
the batteries are under the seats, are examples of the first plan,
which is in operation on lines at Antwerp, Hamburg, Bi'ussels, and
New York. Jlr EUeson's tramway locomotive working in Ix>ndon
on the North Metropolitan tramways is an example of the second
plan. It is obviously preferable, when space can be found ou the
car itself for the motor and batteries, to place them there rathei
than on a separate truck. Whed a separate locomotive is used il
496
T R A C.T I O N
must be heavy enough to grip the rails, and the wcoie ^*"igh* tA bo
draivn is then, cousideiably greater. '
II. Conductor systems, which may be'classiiied tKOs:—
(o) Those using the ordinary rails as the only conductors. He
lines at Lichterfelde and Brighton, already mentioned, are exam-
Slca of this plan, which is quite inapplicable where the rails are laid
ush with the roadway as in city streets.
(6) Those using a third (insulated) rail, above ground. To this
class belong the Portrush, the Bessbrook, and several American
lines. This plan, like the last, is not applicable to city streets.
((■) Those using one (or in some cases two) overhead conductors.
'A-line of this type has been successfully worked between Modling
and Hintcrbriihl, near Vienna, and another between Frankfort and
Olfenbach, both since 1884, at a cost of about 3Jd. per car-mile.
The conductors consist of slotted tubes 1 inch in bore supported On
posts 18 feet high and stayed by wires at intermediate points to
Keep them from sagging. The contact carriages are pistons sliding
in the tubes. ^ The Daft lines at Baltimore and other places in
America, and the Van Depoele lines, of which some SO miles are in
^operation, are mostly worked by means of overhead conductors.
(rf) Those using underground conductors in a slotted channel or
conduit. This system, which has the obvious advantage that the
conductor is placed entirely out of the way of street traffic, has been
introduced at Blackpool by Mr Holroyd Smith, ami, in America,
at Cleveland by Messrs Bentlcy and Knight and at Philadelphia by
Mr Schlesinger. In the Blackpool line the conductor is split into*
two parts which nin parallel to each other within the conduit on
its two sides, and are touched by a contact arm which reaches
down through a narrow central slot at the level of the. street; an
electromotive force of 200 volts is employed. The conduit is
placed midway between the rails, but it may be qnestioned whether,
in view of the conditions of ordinary street traffic, a better place for
it would not be at one side. Mr Field has proposed a tramway
with two conduits, one beside each rail, containing two conductors,
one to be charged positively and the other negatively, so that a
conjparatively high resultant difference of potential is available for
the motor although the potential of neither conductor differs to a
dangerous degree from that of the earth.
(c) One system remains to be described, which was proposed in
1881 by Messrs Ayrton and Perry as specially applicable to electric
railways of considerable length, in which an exposed conductor
would give rise to much lo«s through leakage. Their plan is to
use a well-insulated conductor in a closed channel underground.
The line is divided into short sections ; each of these has an exposed
conductor, which may be one of the rails, and {his is placed in
temporary contact with the insulated conductor as the train p.isses,
by the pressure of the wheels on a flexible rail or stud, or by means
of automatic electromagnetic switches. Leakage is thus restricted
to the continuous and well-insulated conductor, together with that
section of the surface conductor which is in contact with the former
at any one time ; and the system has the further advantage that
it gives the means of providing an automatic block by which suc-
cessive trains are kept from overtaking oue another.
:, The form and disposition of the motor-dynamo and the mode by
Tphich it is connected with the driving-axle of the car are matters
in which niucli variety of practice exista. The question of gearing
is complicated by the fact that the frame of the car oscillates verti-
cally with respect to the axles. Spur-wheels, worm-gear, friction-
gear, belts, multiple-band gear, and chain-gear are or have been
used. Mr Rcckcnzaun's car is carried by two bogie trucks, one
under each end, and each oogie carries a motor whose axlr. placed
longitudinally, drives a central spur-wheel on one axle of the bogie
by means of a worm. An advantage possessfed by two motors is
that, by coui>ling them in series or parallel, or by using one only,
the driver is able to command different grades of power without the
Bse of resistance coils. In cars driveu by storage batteries the same
object may be secured by various groupings of the cells.
Tr.lphcrngc. — In all the methods o^ electrical traction to which
reference has been made the road on which the cars run is essen-
lially a railway or tramway of the kind used in horse traction and
(Ream traction. In 1831 the late Prof. Fleeming Jenkin dtvised a
svstem of electric locomotion in which the vehicles are hung upon
what resembles an exaggerated telegraph line. . To this he gave the
name of telpherage. As developed by the inventor, in conjunction
with-Mcssrs Ayrton and Perry, the system is especially adapted to
the transport-of goods at a slow speed, in localitfes where the traffic
would be insufficient to support an ordinary railway.
The telpher line is a steel rod or cable, suspended from brackets
jon posts~aliout 70 feet apart; it serves at once as carrier of weights
Ttnd conductor of electricity. The line may be made rigid, and in
jthat case-a high speeU of transit may be attained', but in general the
Tine is flexible and the trains travel slowly in what may be, if the
' 1 For a compnrlson of the wclRhts to he dra^ni nnd the tractive force required
In different sysltmN, see a pnpcr by Mr I^eckcnzaan, Elect. Rev., May 21, 1886.
2 For details of the consli-uctinn end wtirkiiic expcHBes of theBe and other
ttoe* -ee the valuable pnper by Mr Kcckenzaun, ./oar. 5t>c.o.^ ^i-fa. April 20. J8^7.
StfltJstle* of American lines will be f.'und In a paper by T. C. Martin, read before
the AB,eilca[i JnsUtute of JCIectrlcal EnglnMtB, May 18, 1887.
i T<jlame of trafii'c reqoina it, a nearly contUiuoss gtre&m. ta^
ti»in consists of a series oi buckets or sVepa which hang each from
a single running wheel or pair of wheels, and are snaceJ by wooden
connecting bars. A small electric motor, 'which nangs below the
line and is gepred by spur and chain gearing to a pair of driving,
wheels, forma the lofomotivo. In general, the line is electricalTyi
divided into equal Bections, which have the same length as a single
train, so that the front carriage is always on the section in advance
of the rear carriage. . The train is funiished with a continuous
conductor from end to end, through which it'makes electric con-
tact between the section in frontand-the section behind, jind the
motor is included in the circuit pf, this conductor. Two systems
of working are used, which ed'able trains to bo run either in
electrical series or "^rallel.^ In, the scries system the successive
sections of the line are electrically tounected, so long as no train
is on them, by means of switches at the joints between the sections,
so that the whole forms one continuous conductor. - When* a trails
comes on any oue section it breaks contact at the joint .between
that section and the one behind it ; the cir^'ut, however, remains
closed through the conductor on the train itself, and in this way'
the motor receives the current which is passing through the line.
Other trains at other places in the line receive the same current,
each by breaking for the time the^ ordinary contact between the
two section's it touohes, and substituting a contact through its own
conductor and motor. When a tmn leaves a section it replaces
the switch that makes contact with the section behind. If, how-
ever, there are more than one train on the line, an automatic block
svstem is added to prevent one from overtaking another by letting
the section which a'train leaves stand insulated for a time. No
control is exercised from the vehicles themselves ; in fact, the trains
mn without attendants. In thb simplest parallel system of tel-
pherage a continuous conductor'distinct from the line w stretched
alt>ngside of it; the trains make contact between the' two. ' The
figure shows another plan, known as the cross-over parallel system,
Qi
(? i r^
Cross-over Parallel System of Telpherage.
which is suitable where a double line of trains is desired. There
A,, Bj, A9 . . . form successive sections of one line, and Bj, A„ B.
. . ; of another. A„ A„ A, . . . are electrically continuous, ana
are connected to one pole of the dynamo- B], B„ B, . . . trs also,
continuous, and are connected to the other pole. Thus the sections
of each line are alternately positive and negative. Any train, such
as P or Q, bridges the gap between two sections and receives a
current which suffers reversal as the tiain passes from one section
to the next. It is to be regretted that space does not admit of any
description of the details of telpherage, many of which present the
utmost ingenuity. The system was shown to bepracticable by
experiments on an experimental line at Weston. Toe first telpher
line on a commercial basis was erected in 1885 at Glynde, in Sussex,
and has been maintained in operation notwithstanding many diffi-
culties inseparable from so completely novel an undertaking.
The electrical propulsion of boats, by means of storage batteries, pro.
has been the subject of several successlul experiments, out has not p,i|slog
found systematic application. In this connexion rcfcicnee should o( boat
be made to a scheme proposed by Ayrton and Perry for the haulage
of boats on canals or of waggons upon roads. Their proposal was
to have a conductor ranged along the towing path, or along the
side of the road. A motor running on this waa to pull itself aloi-.c
and drag the boat or waggon after it.
In aerial navigation, storage batteries working an electric motor Aerial
have been uicd to drive the propeller of a'" dirigible" balloon. navigat
■ Space does not admit of more than the briefest reference to the Theory
theory of electric motors. A motor may be regarded as a dynamo oi '
acting to produce an electromotive force e which is opposite in motors,
direction to the externally impressed electromotive force E The "
resultant electromotive force is E - c, and on this,.togrther with
the resistance of the circuit, the strength of the current C depends.
'Tlie electrical power supplied is CE, and of this the piotor utilizes
Ce. The efficiency is «/E. It is easily seen, os was first shown by
Jacobi, that the power developed by the motor (Cc) is a mnximum
when e-JE. But this condition of maximum pouer involves
that hulf the energy supplied is wasted ; to secure higher efficiency,'
motors are in practice run at much less than their maxinmm
power, so that « may approach more nearly to equality with E."
The field magnets of motors, like those of dynamos, may be \voiind
with coils in series with the armature coil, or with coils forming a
shunt to the armature, or with a combination of both. A very
important part of the theory deals with the automatic regulation
of siiecd^'by the use of compound winding. In a paper of funda-
mental importance with rc,i;ard to this part of the subject, Messrs
Ayrton and Perry 'have shown that a motor may be made to run
■■ " Electromotora and their Government," Jour. Soc, Tet. Eng.t 18^
T R A — T R A
497
\l constant 8pe«l under varying loads when the external electro-
motive force U constant, provided that a differential combination
'of dii-ect shunt and reverse series winding Lie employed, — the shunt
'eoil serving to energize the mngneta and the seiies coil to reduce
their magnetisoi to a certain extent when the current in the ainia-
* tare is increased. The proportion of series to shunt wiuding
necessary (or this result depends on the relation of the resistance
of the armature to that of the shunt coil, and it is an easy deduction
from the theory that, when the resistance of the armature is
negligibly small, the speed of a simple shunt-wound motor driven
by means of a constant external electromotive force is sensibly
•constant, a result which has been experimentally demonstrated by
Mr Mordey [Phil. Mag., Jan. 1S86). It is shown in the same
paper that a similar means of governing may be used when the
current passing through the motor is kept constant, instead of the
external electromotive force. The principle of differential com-
pound winding to secure automatic regulation of speed has been
applied in several American motors, notably by Mr Sprague.
DeuUs of most of the electrical tramway] and railways mentioned in the text
wUl tie fouod In the jourmila F.'ectrical Retnctr, £!ecCriHan, aod Electrical World
(Vew York) of the dates referred to. See also The EUaric i/<Kor and Us Appli-
tations, by T. C. Mania and J. Wetzler (N'ew York, 1887). Tlie Poitinsh line Is
deacnt>ed b - E Hopkinson and A. Siemens In a paper read l>efore the Society of
Arts. Apnl ^883. For telpherage. In adJItloti to articles to the Journals named,
•e« n<emiog Jenkin, " On TelpaeraRe," Jovr, Sec Artt^ May 1884 ; also Profei-
tiemal Paptrt of the Coips of Ro^-al £Dgtiieers. Ctuubom, voL x , 1884. (J. A. £.)
TKACY, AsToiNE Lonxs Claude Destutt, Comte de
(1754-1836), was born in Bourboinais on July 20, 1754.
The noble family to which he belonged was of Scottish
descent, tracing its origin to Walter Stutt, a gentleman who
in 1420 accompanied the earls of Buchan and Douglas to
the court of France, and whose family afterwards rose to
be counts of Tracy. The father of Destutt de Tracy (as he
is uatudly called) was a soldier, and died a field-marshal.
DestQtt de Tracy began his studies under the superintend-
ence of his mother, and afterwards prosecuted them at the
university of Strasburg. During his student days, how-
ever, he was chiefly noted for his skill in every kind of
manly exercise. On leaving the utiiversity he embraced a
military career,. in which his advance was rapid. When
the Revolution broke, Tracy, who was then thirty-five^'ears
of age, took an active part in the provincial assembly of
Bourbonnais. He was elected a deputy of the nobility to
the states-general, where he sat alongside of his friend
La Fayette. In the spring of 1792 he received the rank of
field-marshal, along with the sole command of the cavalry
in the army of the North ; but, as the conduct of affairs
fell more and more into the hands of the extremists, he
took an indefinite leave of absence, and settled with bis
family at Auteuil. Here, in the society of Condorcet and
Cabanis, he devoted himself to scientific studies. Under
the Reign of Terror he was arrested and imprisoned for
nearly a year. It was his solitary meditations at this
period, we are told, which discovered to him his true bent.
Under the influence of Locke and Condillac he aband-
oned the natural sciences for the study of mind. On theft
motion of Cabanis he was named associate of .the Institute
in the class of the moral and political sciences, • He goon
began to attract attention by the mexnmres which he read
before his colleagues — papers which formed the first draft
of his comprehensive work on ideology. The society of
" ideologists " at Auteuil embraced, besides Cabanis and
Tracy, who have been called respectively the physiologist
and the metaphysician of the school, Volney, who has been
called its moralist, and Garat, its professor in the National
Instituta Under the empire he was a member of the
senate, but took little part in its deliberations. Under
the Restoration he became a peer of France, but protested
jigainst the reactionary spirit of the Government, and re-
mained in opposition. In 1808 he was elected a member
of the French Academy in room of Cabanis, and in 1832
he was also named a member of the Academy of Moral
Sciences on its reorganization. He appeared, however,
only once at its conferences. He was old and nearly
blind, and filled with sadness, it is said, by the loss of his
friends and the discredit into which his most fiianly
23—19
cherished opinions had fallen. " His only distraction was
to have Voltaire read aloud to him." He died at Pans
on the 9 th of March 1836.
Destutt de Tracy was the last eminent representative of the
sensualistic school which Condillac founded in rrance upon a one-
sided interpretation of the doctrines of Locke. He pushed the
sensualistic principles of Condillac to their last conser|uence3, being
in full agreement with the materialistic views of lus friend C-.banis,
though the attention of the latter was devoted more to ihe physio-
logical, that of Tracy to the psychological or " ideological " side of
man. His ideology, he fraukly staled, formed "a ('art of zoology,"
or, as we should say, of biology. To think is to feel The four
faculties into which he divides the conscious life — perception,
memory, judgment, will — are all vaiieties of sensation Perception
is sensation caused by a present affection of the e.^tei nal extremities
of the nerves; memory is sensation caused, in the absence of pre-
sent excitation, by dispositious of the nerves which aie the result of
past experiences: judgment is the perception of relations between
sensations, and is itself a species of sensation, because if we are
aware of the sensations we must also be aware of llio relations
betweeii them; will he identities with the feeling of desire, and
therefore includes it as a variety of sensation, it is easy to sea
that such conclusions ignore important distinctions, and are, indeed,
to a large extent an abuse of language. As a psychologist Destutt
de Tracy deserves credit for his distinction between active aod
passive touch, which has developed into the modern theory of the
muscular sense. His account ot the notion of external existence,
asdenved, not from puro sensation, but from the experience of action
on the one hand and resistance on the other, may he comparec
with the account of Bain and later psychologists. Tracy worked
up his separate monographs extending over a number of years into
\.\>f: ilenients cT Idiologje\\i,\l -\S and 182-1-5); which presents his
complete doctrine. He also wTote In 1806 a Convncntaire sur
I'Esprit des Lois de Miyntesquieu, in which be argues ably iu sup-
port of a free constitution on gioiinds which hardly admit of hcin^
harmonized with his general philosophical principles. The book
was translated in America by his friend President Jefferson, who
recommended it for use in the colleges. The first French edition
appeared in 1817, and it \vas several times reprinted.
TRADE, BoAW) of. The greater part of such super-
vision of commerce and industry as exists in the United
Kingdom is exercised by the " Committee of Privy Council
for Trade " (see Privy Council), or, as it is usually called,
the Board of Trade. As early as the 14 th century councife
and commissions had been formed from time to time to
advise parliament in matters of trade, but it was not till th*
middle of the 17th century, under the Commonwealth, that
any department of a permanent character was attempted.
Cromwell^s policy in this respect was continued uader the
Restoration, and in 1660 a committee of the privy council
was appointed for the purpose of obtaining information a»
to the imports and exports of the country, and improving
trade. A few years later another committee of the council
was appointed to act as intermediaries between the crowa
and the colonies, or foreign plantations, as they were then
called. This joint commission of trade and plantations was
abolished in 1675, and it was not until twenty years later
that the Board of Trade was revived under William HI,
Among the chief objects set before this hoai<d were thft
inquirj' into trade obstacles and the employment of the
poor ; the state of the silver currency was also a subject
on which John Locke, its secretary, lost no time in m^.king
representations to the Government. Locke's retirement
in 1700 removed any chance of the Board of Trr le advo-
cating more enlightened opinions on commerciri subjects
than those generally held at that time. It had only a|
small share in making the constitutions of the colonies, as
all the American ones except Georgia and Nova Scotia
were formed before the reign of Charles II,; and in 1760-
a secretary of state for the colonies was appointed, to whom
the control drifted away. In 1780 Burke made his cele-
brated attack on the public offices, which resulted in the
abolition of the board. In 1786, however, another per-
manent committee of the privy council was formed by
order in council, and with one or two sm.iil e.xceptions tha
legal constitution of the Board of Trade is still regulated
by tbat'Order^ Under it all the principal officers of st^te,
XXIII. (•■
.198-
T K A — T R A
t
fncluding the first lorda of the treasury and admiralty,
the secretaries of state, aud certain members of the privy
council, among whom was the archbishop of Canterbury,
obtained seats at the board fx officio ; and ten unofficial
members, including several eminent statesmen, were also
placed on the committee. The duties of the revived board
were made the same as they were in- the beginning of the
century,_but, in addition, the regulation of the food supply
f the country, by restricting or relaxing the export and
mpoTt of corn, was brought into prominence owing to a
larger population requiring to be fed. New duties were
thrown on the board by the gro\nh of joint-stock com-
panies, the development of railways, aud the increase in
ehipping, and it was necessary to break it up into depart-
■Pients charged with the administratiun of the various Acts
'of Parliament. The I5oard of Trade thus became a mere
inamo, the president being practically the secretary of state
'for trade, and the vice-president became, in 1S07, a parlia-
imentary secretary, with similar duties to those of a par-
liamentary uudcr-secretary of state. .. At present, besides
■the president, who has usually a seat in the cabinet, the
parliamentary secretary, aiid a permanent secretary, there
ore six assistant secretaries, each in charge ofa department.
t ' 1. T/ic Commercial l)'i,artmcid 13 the real remains of tlie 01 igiuiij
Bo.inl of TraJe, as il lOUiljiucs ibe iliarge of tlic IraJo statislifs
fivitli tlif geueral coDsultatn-e Julies wilh which King Charles II. 's
iboarj Has uiyinally entrusted. Tho statistical."woik includes
ilcompiliiig the abstracts ulaling to the United Kingdom, the col-
iinies, and Ibreijin counliies, tiie sufjervisiou of the trade accounts,
inJ the preparation of shipping, railway, emigration, and fishery
.statisti'-s. A record of the prices of coj u has been obtained from
Hctual sales in the chief uiaiket towns for about a hundred years,
the original object being the sliding scale of corn duties, but these
.are now continued to govern the titbe payments, and form an iin-
^broken series of prices based on actual transactions, and not merS
market .(notations. ioieign aud colonial customs tarifTs and
regulations are also niat'^ii's on which inrormation is published,
and laboiu- statistics are for the future to hare special attention.
In 1S72 one of the most impoitant functions of the commercial
department, viz , the negotiation of commercial treaties, was trans-
ferred to llie Foreign Office, lint the Boaid of Trade is still con-
sulted on these matli-i-s by the Foreign Office, as well as by the
Colonia! Office on colonial connnercial niattei^, and by tho other
public de|iartmeuts. The li.inliruptcy Act of 18S3 added a new
branch of work, but for this llicre is now a se|iarate establishment
under an in>pector-geiieral. The last new woik unJeitaken by (he
department is the publicalion (begun Angust lb86) of a Mo^'tkhj
Journal ol couituercial infoniutlon, cliielly from official sources.
2. Th', FMdim'i D'-iiortnu,i( w.is originally constiluletl in 184fl,
and nei1<inns inuHil'arious duties iiinier vtinous Railnay Acts,
Inclodiiig tho iusii^ctiou of ijilna^-- Ixl'oro they are o]K>n. inquiries
-bito accident-i. reporU on pr..po.ied railways. ap['i-oval of bye-laws,
appointmeiit of arbitiatoi^ in disputes, as well as many iluties inidor
private liadway Ads. The iu>|^clion of tianiways, iheir byelaws
>nd ■•proi'isioual orders," are all iKalt with here, as are similar
onlers relating to ga* and water af hemes and to electric lifting.
Patents, designs, and tude niaiks'aie now dealt with by the Patent
Office, whiih IS sulnit.liiijt..- lo ihe laihv.iy deiiartmcnt, aud copy-
right, art unions, and ludusliial t.xhibilious aro aU,o among the
pialters deah witn by the depultmelit.
3. The ilnniv V'pirhnjiU 11 a, cre.ated a separate branch of the
Board of Trade in liiiflr about which lime many new and import-
But ntai-ino (^utvstions came under Ihe lioard of Trade, such, for
exampl", a» tho suivey of pa-senger sicamers, the compulsory
e.taniin ition of misteis and ui.iirs, the estahlishraent of shipping
offices tor the 1 Tigagerncni and disi Inige of seamen. Further work
fell to the ni.iiine depirtnoiil by the Act of 1».'>3, which gave it
the Control ol lighthouse funds, and lo a certain extent of pilotage.
Tho cousoli.kiiug Jdcrcli.int Shipping Act of 1854 aud subsequent
legi.sl.iti'.-n <io iniich incrciscd (he defiartment that in 1866 it was
diviijcd into three, viz., the presint marine department, which
deals with ships and seauieu, the harbour department, and tho
finance di-fiaitnient,
i. Tlie llnrlhiur D'])arUiiitU jv(*, as stated above, a branch of
tho maiiiio dep.ictnKMit until ISG6, so far as it is connected with
the physical adjuncts of navigution, but various other matters have
sincii Ijeeu ailded, c.7., the charge of the foreshore belonging to
the crown, foinuTly managed by the commissioners of woods and
forests, and tho protection of navigable harbours and channels,
long under the control of the Admiralty. Lighthoose funds, pro-
vi:,ioDai orders for oyster and mussel flsheriea, the management of
Holyhead and Ramsgate harbours and of Dover pier, wreck, afidf
quarantine are all among the matters dealt with by this depart^
ment, which also has cnargo of the standards department for
weights and measures.' '.
6. Tlie Finance DepaSrhne'il was, like the harbour department
separated in 1866 from the marine department.. The accounts ol
all the branches of the feoard of Trade are in its charge, including
the subordinate offices. It also deals with the accounts of harbours,-
lighthouses, and mercantile marine offices, and of the merchant
seamen's fund, and with the consuls' accounts for disabled seamen'
abroad- Savings banks and seamen's money ordeis are also among
the accounts and paymeutswith which it is chargedj and outside
these marine matters it has to prepare for fiarliament the life in-
surance companies' accounts and to take charge of the bankruptcy
estate accounLs.
6. TTw Fisheries Department. — By a recent Act the powers of the
Home Office over salmon aud other fisheries have been transferred to'
the Board of Trade, and a small defiartment has consequently been
created charged with the care of those industries. '
TRADE-MARKS. There seems no reason to doubt
that the practice of employing a mark to denote the goods
of a particular trader (not necessarily the manufacturer)
grew out of the use of signs, which,' first affixed to the
dealer's shop, were afterwards represented on his tokens,
and eventually placed on the goods themselves. Trade-
marks proper appear to have been in use in England in
the reign of Elizabeth. The first reported case was in
1783, when Lord Mansfield decided that the sale by the!
defendants of a certain medicine under the name or marki
of the plaintiff was a fraud. By other decisions it was'
affirmed that the use of another's trade-mark was action-!
able, even witho^^t the .J intent to defraud. The law, how-J
ever, remained in Sci unsatisfactory condition tiU, by the
Merchandise Marks Act in 1862, it was made a misdemean-j
our to forge or counterfeit a tradp-mark, while penalties wer^
inflicted for the sale of articles bearing a forged mark.
1. In 1875 the Trade Marks Registration Act established,
for the first time a registry of trade-marks in Britain,!
greatly facilitating the proof of title. A more precise'
definition of a trade-mark was also provided. In 1883 this
Act was repealed by the Patents, Designs, and Trade Marks
Act, in which its principSl provisions were incorporated,
.■Ml proceedings for the registration of trade-marks are nowi
regulated by the Patents Act. A trade-mark may be a
name printed or otherwise delineated in some particular or
distinctive manner, or a signature, or a device, mark, brand,'
(S.C. Registration is couiimlsory, at least in the sense thatj
the owner cannot prevent infringement or sue for damages]
for infrhigement unless be has registered, though it would
appear that this disability exists only in the case of a^
mark capable of being registered under the Act. There
are certain indicia which cannot be registered because they,
do not fall within the definition of a trade-mark, but which
may yet be protected at equity.^ Registration is deemed
equivalent to public use of the mark, and, after the expira-
tion of five years, is conclusive evidence of right to exclusive
use. Applications, for regis^iation have to be addressed;
to the comptroller of patents ; should he refuse to register,',
there is an appeal to the Board of Trade. If there is,
opposition, the matter goes to the High Court of Justice.'
Registration holds good for fourteen years, at the end of
which time it has to be renewed. Special provision is
made in the Act for the retention of certain of the ancient
privileges of the Cutlers Company of Sheffield. The total
number of marks now upon the register is fiearly 50,000, j
Tho Customs Consclidation Act, 1876. forbids the importation
of articles of foreign manufacture bearing any mark purporting ta
be the mark of* manufacturers resident in the United Kingdom, or
stating or implying that such articles were manufactured in the
United Kingdom. The Merchandise Marks Act, 1 887, consolidated
and amended the law of offences relating to tmde-roarks and trada
descriptions. It repealed the Act of 1862 and replaced it by fullef;
provisions. It is now an offence to forge a trade-mark, to faUely
apply to goods any trade-mark or any mark so nearly reeemblina
a tiade-mark its to deceive, to make any die, kc, for the purpose w
T R A — T R A
499
forgingor lor oeing usea lor lorginj; d trade-mark, to apply any
f.ilse trado dcsciiption to goods, to dispose of or have in po»sessiou
toy die, tc, for the purpose of forgiiig a tr.ide-raark, or to cause
1' >• of tlie above-mentioiiid things to be done. There are special
•s^'tuns in the Act dealing with its application to watche.3 and
«-atch-cases. ^V^lere a watch-case is of I'oreiga manulacture it
must, if stamped at an assay oflSoe in the United Kinjjdom, bear a
mark ditferins; from the mark placed upon watches manufactured
in tlio United 'Kingdom A warranty is implied in the sale of goods
bearing a trade-mark or trade description. See WiKr.vSTT.
In most foreign countries provisions have long csL-ted for the
registration of trade-marks ; and, they also form one of the classes
of"" industrial property" for the protection of which an inter
national convention w:i3 formed in 1SS3 This convention now
includes sLfteen states,— the more imporUnt being Belgium.
France, Great Briuin, luly, Netherlands, Norway, Portu;j.il,
Spain, Sweden, Switzerland, and tlie United States. The subjects
of all the contracting states enjoy in each state the same rights
and privileges as that state grants to its own subjects for the pro-
tection of trade-marks. Registration also in one of the states con-
fers certain rights of priority in the others
Cniicd Stales. — Tlie legislation of the different States and
iTerritorio^ varies considerably, some proWding for the registration
of trade-marks either ivith or without protection for unregistered
trade-marks, while othere provide only for protection without
registration. On March 3, ISSl, Congress passed an Act "tn
aothorue the registration of trade-marks and to protfct the same,"
wliich provides that owners of traile-marks used in commerce with
foreign nations or with the Indian tribes, provided such owners be
domiciled in the United States or located in any foreign country
or tnbe which affords similar privileges to citizens of the Unit«d
States, may obtain registration of trade-marks under the Act.
Kegistraliou is not compulsory ; failure to register a trade-mark,
or to renew registration, doe-s not deprive the owner of any remedy
he might have at law or in equity ; and the courts will, generally
speaking, protect the unregistered equally with the registered.
' For fu:ii>r Informalioa pce L. B. Sebaatjaia's Zviy- *>/ Tradt Marti, or R. W.
iW.(l!3CC s edirioa of the Patents, Designs, aiij Trade Marks Art ; and m America
Rowl.in'! C^ss AmfrUan Trad^-it'irk Cai'i- Cox s yavrml of Trade-Mark Cases,
^d Wijj.^ra Henry Bro^ti's Trcatist on tfu Law c/ Tradi Marks.
TRADE UNIONS are combinations for regulating the
relations between workmen and masters, workmen and
workmen, or mastersand masters, or for imposing restric-
tive conditions on the conduct of any indastry or husinesi.
By the commonJaw all such combinations were, with cer-
tain rare and utiimportant esceptions, regarded as illegal.
They were considered to be contrary to public policy, and
were treated as conspiracies in restraint of trade. Those
who were engaged or concerned in them were Liable to be
criminally prosecuted by indictment or information, and to
be punished on con%ncrion by fine and imprLsonraeut. The
offence was precisely -the -same whether it was committed
by masters or by workmen. But, although the provisions
of the common law applied muiaJv; muJarulU to both of
them alike, it was, practically speaking, in reference rather
to the latter than to the former that their effects were
developed and ascertained. While it was held to be
perfectly lawful for workmen, as individuals, to con.sent or
to refuse to labour for any remtmeration or for any time
they pleased, when two or more of them ioined together,
and agreed to labour oaly on certain stipulated terms with
respect either to the payia'ent or the duration of their
labour, they were guilty tpso /n/io of a misdemeanour. It
was immaterial ^phether the end they had in view was to
determine wages or to limit work ; or whether the means
they adopted for promoting its attainment was a simul-
taneous \vithdrawal from employment, an endeavour to
■prevent other workmen from resuming or taking employ;
iiient, or an attempt to control the masters in the manag*
ment of their trade, the engagement of journeymen or
apprentices, or the use of machineiy or industrial proce.sses ;
or whether in seeking to enforce cheir demands they relied
merely on advice and solicitation, or resorted to reproach
and menace, or proceeded to actual violence. In any event
their combination in itself constituted a criminal conspiracy,
^nd rendered them amenable td prosecution and punishT
nient. From the reign of Edward I. to the reign of George
iV, the operation of the common law was enforced and
enlarged by between thirty and torty Acts of Parliament,
all ol which were more or less distinctly and explicitly
designed to prohibit and prevent what we have learned ta
describe and recognize as the " organization of labour "
But the rise of the manufacturing sy:,lem towards iho. end
of the last century, and the revolution which accompanied
it in the industrial arrangements of the country, were
attended by a vast and unexpected extension of the move-
ment which the legislature had for so long and with so
much assiduity essayed to suppress. Among the muli.r-
tudes of workmen who tlien began to be employed in
single factories or in neighbouring factories in the samp
towns, trade unions in the form of secret societies speedi!f
became numerous and active, and to meet the ncvei
requirements of the situation a more summary method of
procedure than that which had hitherto been available was
provided by the 40lh Geo. III. cap. lOG. By this statute;
passed in 1800, it was enacted that all persons combining
with others to advance their wages or decref.^e the quantity
of their work, or in any way to affect or conttol those who
carried on any manufacture or trade in the conduct and
management thereof, might be convicted before one justice
of the peace, and might be committed to. the common jail
for any time not exceeding three ca'endar months, or be
kept to hard labour in the house of correction lor a term
of two calendar months The discontent and disorder of
which, in conjunction with a state of commercial depres-
sion and national distress, the introduction of steam and
improved appliances generally into British manufactures
was productive in the first quarter of the current century
led to the nomination of a select comiuittee by the House of
Commons, t* inquire into the whole question of what were
popularly and comprehensively designated the "combina^
tion laws," in the session of 1824 After taking, evidence;
the committee reported to the House that " those laws had
not only not been efficient to prevent combinations either
of masters or workmen, but on the contrary had, in the
opinion ofmany of both parties, had a tendency to produce
mutual irritation and distrust, and to give a violent
character to the combinations, and to render them highly
dangerous to the peace of the community." They further
reported that in their judgment " masters and workmen
should be freed from such restrictions as regards the rate
of wages and the hours of working, and be loft at perfect
liberty to make such agreements as they mutually think
proper." They therefore recommended that " the statute
laws which interfered in these particulars between masters
and workmen sbould be repealed," and also that "the
common law under which a peaceable meeting of masters
or workmen might b6' prosecuted should be altered." In
pursuance of their report, the 4th Geo. IT. cap. 95 was at
once drafted, brought in, and passed. But the immediate
results of the change which it effected were regarded as so
inconvenient, formidable, and alarming that in the session
of 1825 the House of Commons appointed another select
committee to re-examine the various problems, and renew
and reconsider the evidence which had been submitted to
their predece.^ors in the previous year. They reported
without delay in favour of the total repeal of the 4th
Geo. IV. cap. 95, and the restoration of those prorisions
of the combination laws, whether statutory or customary,
which it had been more particularly intended to abrogate.
The consequence was the enactment of the 6th Geo. TV.
cap. 129, of whioh the preamble declares that the 4th
Geo. IV. cap. 95 had not been found effectual, and that
combinations such as it had legaLi7.ed were '■' injurious to
trade and commerce, dangerous to the tranqvuUity of the
country, and especially prejudicial to the interests of all
who were concerned in them." . The effect of the 6th Geo.
IV. cap. 129 was to leave the_ common law of conspiracy
•500
T K A B E UNIONS^
■'in full force against'all combinations in restraint of trade,
except such as it expressly exempted from its operation as
it had been before the 4th Geo. IV. cap. 95 was passed.
'It comprised, however, within itself the whole of the
statute law relating to the subject, and under it no persons
were liable to punishment for meeting together for the sole
purpose of consulting upon and determining the rate of
wages or prices which they, being present, would require
for their work or pay to their workmen, or the hours for
which they would work or require work in any trade
or business, or for entering into any agreement, verbal
or written, for the purpose ot fixing the rate of wages or
'prices which the parties to it should so receive or pay.
'But all persons were subjected to a maximum punishment
jof three months' imprisonment with hard labour who
should by violence, threats or intimidation, molestation,
!or obstruction do, or endeavour to do, or aid, abet, or
assist in doing or endeavouring to do, any of a series of
things inconsistent with freedom of contract which the Act
enumerated and defined. Afterwards, in order to remove
certain doubts which had arisen as to the true import and
meaning of the words " molestation " and " obstruction,"
it was provided by the 22d Vict. cap. 34 that " no person,
by reason merely of his endeavouring peaceably and in a
reasonable manner, and without threat or intimidation
direct or indirect, to persuade others to cease or abstain
from work, in order to obtain the rate of wages or the
altered hours of labour agreed to by him and others,
should be deemed to have been guilty of ' molestation ' or
k' obstruction.'" In spite of the partial recognition which
trade unions had thus received, they continued to be un-
lawful, although not necessarily criminal, associations. In
certain cases, they were by statute exempted from penal
consequences, and their members were empowered to
combine for specified purposes, and to collect funds by
voluntary contributions for carrying them into effect. But
in the estimation of the common law the special privileges
which had been accorded to them under particular circum-
stances did not confer any general character of legality
upon them, and where their rules were held to be in
restraint of trade, as in the prohibition of piece-work or
the limitation of the number of apprentices, they were still
regarded as conspiracies. " Hence they were practically
excluded from the advantages in regard to the security of
their property and the settlement of their disputes which,
under the Friendly Societies Act, 18th and 19th Vict. cap.
63, had been granted to all associations established for any
purposes which were not illegal.. In this condition the law
was when what became notorious as the " Sheffield and
Manchester outrages " suggested the appointment of the
royal commission on trade unions, which investigated the
subject from 18li" to 18G9., The outcome was, first, a
temporary measure for the more effectual protection of the
funds of trade unions, passed in 1869, and, secondly, the
|two measures which, as amended and amending, are cited
together as the "Trade Union Acta 1871 and 1876" —
the 34th and 3iith Vict, cap., 22 and the 39lh and. 40th
Vict cap. 31 _^,_
I By thi-ie stDtutcs, construed nith tne Conspiracv an" Protection
■'of Property Ait, 1875, the 38 and 39 Vict. cap. 86, the law relat-
ing to c'0inliiiiati'>ri3, whether of worknjen or of masters, assumed
the shape in uhieh it exists at the present time. In connexion
with trade disputes no person can now be proseruted for eonsjiiracy
to commit an act which would not he criminal if committed by
him sin^ily, and consequently employers and employed alike may
,lnwfiiUy do in combination all that they would be entitled to do as
- individuals. The purposes of a trade union are not to be deemed
illepal merely because they are in restraint of trailu, and the cir-
cumstance that they are in restraint of trade is not to render any
member of it liable to prosecution, nor is it to avoid or make void-
able any ar;reemcnt or trust relating to it. No court, however,
can entertain lc;:al proceedings with the object of directly enforcing
jpr recovering damages for.thebreach_of_an agreement bebvcen the
members of s trade nnion as snch, coaceming the conditioDa en
which the members for the time being shall or shall not sell thei^
goods, transact their business, employ or be employed, or the payv'
ment by any person of any euhscription or penalty to a trade union,!
or for the application of the funds of a trade union to provid^l
benefits or to furnish contributions to any employer or workman^
not a member of such trade union in consideration of such employer
or workman acting in conformity with the rules or resolutions of
such trade union, or to discharge any fine imposed upon any person
by any court of justice or any agreement made between one trado
union and another, or any bond to secure such agreements. But
such incapacity to sue on such agreements is not to be taken a^^
constituting auy of them illegal. Every person, however, com-j
mits a misdemeanour, and on conviction is liable to a maximum
fine of £2U, or to a maximum imprisonment of three months with
hard labour, who wilfully and maliciously breaks a contract of
service or hiring, knowing, or having reasonable cause to believe,'
that the probable conse()uence of his so doing, either alone or in'
combination with others, will be to endanger human life or causa
serious bodily injury, or to expose valuable property, wTietlier reai
or personal, to destruction or serious injury ; or who, being cm-
ployed by a municipal authority or by any company or contractor
on whom is imposed by Act of Parliament, or who 'have otherwise
assumed, the duty of .-upplyingany place with gas or water, wilfully,
and maliciously breaks a coutract.of service or hiring, knowing, or
having reasonable cause to believe, that the probable consequencd
of his so doing, alone or in combination with others, will be to
deprive the inhabitants of that jilace, wholly or in- part, of their
supply of gas or water ; or who, with a view to compel any other
person to do or to abstain from doing any act which Buch other
person has a right to abstain frpm doing or to do, wrongfully
and without legal authority uses violence to or intimidates
such other person or his wife or children, or injures his property;
or who persistently follows such person about from place to place ;
or who hides any tools, clothes, or other property owned or used
by such other jierson, or deprives fiim of or hinders him in the nst*
thereof; or who watclies or besets the house or other place where
such person resides or works or carries on business or happens to
be, or the approach to such house or place ; or who follows such
other person with two or more other persons in a disorderly manner
in or through any street or road. But attending at or near the
house or place where a person resides or works or c-arries on busi-
ness in ordei merely to obtain or communicate infomiation is not
watching or besetting within the statute. In regard to registration,
trade unions are placed on a similar footing wilh friendly and
provident and industrial societies, and they enjoy all the privileges,'
advantages, and facilities which those associations possess and
command. On their side, however, they have to comply with the
same conditions, are subject to the same liabilities, and are com-;
pelled to make the same periodical returns.
Although there are several large and influential societies among
the employers of labour which come within the legal definition of
trade unions, what are commonly as well as more accurately meant
by trade unions are societies exclusively composed of the employed,
—the suppliers-of labour whether skilled or unskilled Of trade
unions in thissen^e,— those of which the members are all artisans or
labourers, — the organization is everywhere pretty much the same,
although the rules and regulations of various associations differ in
detail more or less distinctly and Midely from one another. Theii
ordinary constitution is that of a socicfy divided into district^, and
again into smaller local bodies. The seat of the governing authority
— the general or executive council — is usually fixed at some large
centre of industry or commerce, as London, Manchester, or Bir-
mingham, and it is often changed ot stated interi'als by a vote of
the society at large. It is the policy of the trade union*, by this
method of organization, to extend the area of their inlluence, and
so to increa.se their power in dealing with the masters or- in con-
trolling their own members in any emergency Ea>Ii ol the
branches h:i3 a separate government for .-pecial purjioses. But for
general purposes all the branches are under the eonimand of the
executive couticil or central committee, vhicb is constituted of
members or officers who are ele.ted by the whole society The
terms on which members are admitted are ditlennt in different
!V,3ociations. But in all of them there are rerlain limits as to nge
and the number of years during which the candidate has been
apprenticed to or has worked in the trade. 'I he re'enue and
reserve of all the societies are derived from admi-ition fees and
weekly or monthly subscriptions, together with Iho uiiiount ol the
fines which are imposed for neglect of duty and breaches ot the
rule-i and icgulations. These sou.-ees of income are suflicicnt for
ordinary purposes , and extMordinnry Charges, such as are cliUileJ
by a "strike" or a "lo.koul," arc nearly always, if not invari-
ably, met by means of " levies" made on the membeni by order ol
the executive council or central committee. The following aecouut
of the Amalgamated Society of Engineers may be accepted u
furnishing a typical examjile of the organiMtwn and management
_of a laige and Ilourishing feadc unions
TRADE UNIONS
501
AccordiDg to tbe thirty-third annoal Report of that society, it
«pp«srs that in 18S3 the onioa consisted of 424 branches, chieSy
in towns in the British IsJea, but with a fair sprinkling in Canada,
the United States, Australia, India, and other parts of the ^lobe.
The number of membera was 50,418. A branch must consist of
not fewer than seven members or more than three hundred. Tlie
constitution is pre-eminently democratic Each branch ia itself a
completely organized body. It selects and elects its own officers ;
it collects, holds, and spends its own funds ; and it manages the
whole of the business which aSects itself alone. The officers of the
branch are elected at general meetings at which every member
most be present under the penalty of a fine. Members who refuse
to be nominated for office, or who refuse to serve if elected, are also
subject to fines, and officers who neglect their business either by
coming late to meetings or absenting themselves altogether are
similarly punished. A meeting of the members of each branch is
held every fortnight for the transaction of ordinary business, such
«s receiving subscriptions and deciding upon propositions for new
members. These meetings begin at naif-past 7 in the evening,
«nd close at half-past 9 or 10 o'clock, but the hours are altered
when it is convenient to alter them. The duties of the secretary
are onerous, and his responsibility is great No one therefore is
eligible who has not been in the society two years successively, and
** DO member shall be elected as secretary who keeps a public or
beer house." He has charge of the accounts of bis branch, and con-
ducts its correspondence. He has to see to the payment of members
who are entitled to travelling relief donation, sick, superannuation,
or funeral benefit He has to summon meetings, keep minntes,
report to the gener^ secretary as to the state of trade in the dis-
tnct, the number of men out of work, or on the other hand ho has
to state what men are wanted, and he has also "to transact any
other business that belongs to his office." The president, vice-
president, and assistant secretary of a branch are elected quarterly,
while the secretary and referee are elected annually. Members are
azempt if they are fifty years of age, or if they reside more than
S miles from the clnh house ; and they are disqualified if they are
lOa. in arroar with their contributions. There are also book-
keepers, money stewards, doorkeepers, treasurers, and auditors,
the natoia of whose work is evident from their titles. There are
abo sick stewards, whose duties are to visit the sick twice a week,
to report their visits to the meetings of the branch, and to carry
the invalid his sick benefit. None of the offices are honorary. In
branches nombering fewer than fifty members every officer is allowed
4d., and in branches numbering fifty and upwards 6d., for his
ftttendance on branch meeting nights. The secretary is paid
annually and accordiilg to the size of the branch. The lowest
amount is £1, Ss. for a branch of ten members, the highest £10,
4a for a branch of three hundred. The auditors are paid at a
lower rate, which varies from 9d. to 4s. 8d., while the treasurer is
paid 10 per cent on the sum set apart for use. Each branch has
mlso a committee, which has power to determine anything whereon
the society's rules are silent The books of the branch are open to
their inspection ; they can stunmon meetings, and they have vari-
ous other duties. Each member of this committee receives 6d. for
each meeting he attends, and is fined 6d. for each meeting from
which he is absent In any district in which there are more
branches'tiun one, a local district committee must be formed, con-
sisting of aeven members, each branch as nearly as practicable
selecting an equal number. Where there are seven 'oranches, each
one sends a representative. The duties of this committee are to
" watch over the interests of the trade, and transact such business
u affects the district generally." It must not, however, interfere
with the business of any particular branch of the society. The
central authority is vested in a general or eie<;utiv6 council, con.
listing of thirty-seven members, of whom eleven represent metro-
politan branches, the others being from the provinces, including
Scotland and Ireland. As the country councillors cannot con-
veniently attend frequent meetings in London, the ordinary
management is entrusted to the eleven London members, wfco are
called the local council, and the council is also further broken up
into various committees for managing the details of the society.
This council hears appeals from branches, advises, forbids, initiates,
and terminates strikes. The general secretary receives a salary of
X4 a week and lives rent free He also receives Is. 8d. each time
he attends a uonncil meeting, and is paid for any special journeys
tindertaken or extra work done. His assistants receive £2, 10s. a
week each, and have to give the whole of their time to the associa.
tion. They have to compile and issue a monthly .report as well as
quarterly and yearly reports. The lastnamed is quite a formid.
able volume, consisting of nearly 400 pages of large post octavo,
and those of other societies are similar. The general secretary's
hours of business are fixed from 9 a. m. to 6 p.m. He has power to
authorize members who are on donation to be removed from one
branch to another where there is a probability of employment, and
he has to keep a register of all the members of the society, stating
when and where admitted, age, married or single, and whether a
-■Mmber has received any part of the financial money. In the
Ainalganiated Society of Engineers the contribution of each membei
is generally Is. a week, and if a man be in arrears he is suspended
from the benefits of the society, unless indeed he is out ul woik or
in distressed circumstances. At the end of 1883 the umon had a,
balance in ha«l of £178,128, or upwards of £3, lUs. a man
In some trade unions — for example, those of the coiii;iusiiors—
there is a special body (" fathers of chapels") whose business it is to
see that the rules and regulations of the societies they belong to are
faithfully observ.d in the establiehnients where they are en.ployed.
Inothers again— for instance, in the National AgriciiUural Labourers
Union, as distinguished from the Federal Unfon of AKruultural
Labourers — the system of management is completely ceiitrahzed,
the secretary or the executive committee having cniirc control of
the funds and business of the whole association. In all laiye
towns there are trade councils formed oi delegates from rhe dulercnt
trade unions within their area, whose function it is to discuss and
supervise the general interests of the unionists in the several trades
of which they are representative. Moreover, an annual trade unions
congress is held in some great centre of industry and populaiion
in one of the three kingdoms, at «hich delegates frum almost all
the trade unions throughout the realm are present ond take part in
debating questions, whether social or political, which arc of special
interest to the working classes. At these assemblies, which have
now been held for twenty consecutive years, a parliamentary com-
mittee, which remains in existence for the ensuing tuelveaionth,
is chosen, to whom the whole body of trade unionisTs looks for
counsel and assistance with respect to legislation intended or desiitd
on their behalf. To the action of the trade unions congress and
their parliamentary committee much of the legislation nhich has
been recently effected on questions affecting the welfare of the
order of the community to which they belong is to be attn
buted, — notably the Employers' Liability Act and the amended
Factory and Mines Act^, (See Trade Uniuiis, kc , by Wilham
Trant)
The objects of trade anions are twofold,— first, those of a friendly
or benefit society, and, secondly, those of a trade society or guild
In the former capacity they afford relief to their members whec
they are out of work from any cause, including sickness or accident;
they occasionally provide them with superannuation allowances,
and they almost always make burial allowances on account of
deceased members and their wives. In the latter capacity it is
their special business to promote what they conceive to be the
interests of the trade with which they are connected by placing the
workmen, so far a^eombination will fnlhl that purpose, on a footing
approaching to equality with the capitalists by whom they are
employed in the disposal of their labour. Of course this is the
great object for which the unions really exist- But, a-s the com-
missioners on trade unions have pointed out, it is found desirable
to conjoin the objects of a friendly or benefit society with it,
because by that means additional members and funds are obtained,
and the authority which the union as a trade society has over its
members is thus augmented The leading aims of all trade union-
ism are to increase wages and to diminish the labour by which it
is oeedftU- to earn them, and further to secure a more equal dis-
tribution of work among the workmen in any given trade than
would be the case under a regime of unrestricted competition.
Hence their rules prescribe a minimum amount of wages to be
accepted and a maximum amount of work to be done by their
members, and prohibit piece work or working overtime. The
methods by which the unionists endeavour to accomplish their
end. which is in a sense the monopoly of the labour mark.;t, are
either direct or iudirect. The direct method is a "strike," or
simultaneous cessation of labour on the part of the workmen. It
is the ultimate sanction as between the employed and their em.
ployers of the demands made by the union. But. where thf
unionists are strong, the mere threat of a strike is often sufficient
to fulfil the intended purpose, and arbitration is still more
frequently found effectual for bringing about a settlement or com
promise. The indirect methods tow-hich the trade unionists resort
for reaching their aims are by limiting the number of workmen to
be employed in any trade and by repressing or discountenancing
competition among those who are actually employed in it Most
of tnem forbid the admission of more than a stipulated proportion
of apprentices, aud some of them prohibit the engagement ot
women to do work which can be done by men. Nearly all of them
resist the common employment of nuionists and non-unionists, and
do their best to exclude non-unionists from employment altogether
But the amount expended by trade unions in the conduct of trade
disputes is very much less than is generally imagined Mr George
Howell, for instance, showed conclusively in the Contemporary
Review that such was the case three or four years ago, and Jli
Murchie, the chairman of the parliamentary committee, stated at
the trade unions congra^ at Stockport in the autumn of I8S5 that
Mr Howell's contentions had been signally confirmed by more
recent experience. Taking the seven largest trade unions, those
whose statistics had been t-elied on by Mr Howell — namely,
the Amalgamated Engineers, the Ironfounders, the Boiler Maker*
502
T R A — T R A
»nd Iron Shipbuilders, the Steam-Eogine Makers, Ironmonlders of
ticotlaod, Amalgamated Tailor?, and Amalgamated Carpenters and
Joiners — he affirmed that, while in the nine years preceding 1884
their receipts were £2,818,548, their ezpenditnre was £2,963,i8G,
of which amonxtt £1,207,180 was spent in unemployed benefit,
£592,273 in sicfe benefit, £975,052 in compensation for loss of tools,
euperannuatiocs, accidents, funerals, minor grants and benefits, and
expense of management, only £188,630 had been spent in connexion
with " trade movements," or abont 64 per ceut of the whole sum
expended.
There are no really trustworthy means of arriving at anything
Approaching to an accurate e3timate of the actual numerical strength
of the trade unions in the United Kingdom According to the last
Jteport of the registrar general of friendly societies, there were in
the year 1883 registered in his office 195 trade unions with 253,088
members and £431,495 funds, of which 12 returned over £10,000
funds, 9 over 10,000 members, and 6 over £10,000 income But
tJiis of course conveys a very inadequate notion of the dimensions
^o which trade unionism has attained, since many of the largest
and most influential societies are still unregistered.
The following table shows the number of delegates and the
aggregate membership of the societies represented by them at
the trade onions congresses in the years from 1880 to 1888, both
inclusive ; —
Namber
Trade
CoandJs
Trade
Tola)
Nniiitwr
Unionists
repre-
sented
directly
(.ipproxi
mate)
Nomber
of
or
Bodies
Uniotu
repre-
Nuraber
of Peiaons
repre-
sented by
Delegates.
repre-
seoted.
repre-
sen ted.
sented
direcUy.
repre-
sented.
Trade
Counclid.
• 1880
IW
105
K
88
474,213
92.511
381,702
18SI
154
122
18
104
460.797
86,376
374,421
1882
153
126
23
103
508,337
10S.97J
405,365
1883
173
135
21
114
5S1.091
94.166
466,925
I8S4
142
115
21
95
597,636
10?.9S4
487.652
1885
163
13S
27
109
631,606
131,368
500,238
1885
143
121
24
97
635,380
12;,207
513,173
Weshallnotbe far wrong, perhaps, ifweset down thenumberof trade
onionista in all the three kingdoms at about 800,000. (F. DR.)
TRAGEDY See Drama.
TRAJAN {c. 53-1 17 a.d.). Marcos Ulpius Traianus,
the fourteenth Roman emppror, was a native of Italica, in
Spain. The family to which he belonged was probably
Italian and not Iberian by blood His father began life
as a common legionary soldier, and fought his way up to
the consulship and the governorship of Asia- He was one
of the hardest fighters in Judaea under Vespasian and
Titus; he served too against the Parthians, and won the
highest military distinction open to a subject, the grant of
the triumphal insignia. Thus he acquired a prominent
place among the brand new patricians created by the
Flavians as substitutes for the nobles of old descent who
had succumbed to the cruelty and rapacity of the emperors
from Tiberius to Nero. The younger Trajan was rigor-
ously trained by his father, and deeply imbued with the
same principles and tastes He was a soldier born and
bred. No better representative of the true old hardy
Roman type, little softened either by luxury or educa-
tion, had come to the head of affairs since the days of
Marius. The date of his birth was probably 53 ad
His training was almost exclusively military, but his ex
perience as an officer gave him an acquaintance with
almost every important province of the empire which was
of priceless value to him when he came to the throne.
For ten years he held a commission as military tribune,
■which took him to many lands far a:.under; then he filled
important posts in Syria and Spain. How much actual
warfare Trajan saw in those days we can hardly tell ; he
certainly went through some severe service under his
father's command against the Parthians. By the year 89
he had achieved a considerable reputation. At that time
L. Antonius Saturninus headed a rebellion in Germany,
which threatened seriously to bring Domitian's rule to an
end. Trajan was ordered in hot haste from Further Spain
to the Rhine. Although he carried his troops over that
long and arduous march with almost unexampled rapidity,
he only arrived after the insurrection had been put down;
But hi.s promptitude raised him higher in the favour of
Domitian, and he was advanced to the consulship in 91.
Of the next five years of his life we know nothing posi
tively. It is not unlikely that they were spent at Rome
or in Italy in the fulfilment of some official duties. When
the revolution of 96 came, and Nerva replaced the
murdered Domitian, Trajan had conferred upon him one
of the most important posts in the empire, that of consulai
legate of Upper Germany Xa officer whose nature, as
the event showed, was interpenetrated with the spirit of
legality was a fitting servant of a revolution whose aim
it was to substitute legality for personal caprice as the
dominant principle of affairs. The short reign of Nerva
really did start the empire on a new career, which lasted
more than three quarters of a century But it also demon-
strated how impossible it was for any one to govern at
all who had no claim, either personal or inherited, to the
respect of the legions. Nerva saw that If he could not
find an Augustus to control the army, the army would find
another Domitian to trample the senate under foot. In
his difficulties be took counsel with L Licinius Sura, a
lifelong friend of Trajan, and in October 97 he ascended
the Capitol, and with all due solemnity proclaimed that
he adopted Trajan as his son The senate confirmed the
choice, and acknowledged the emperor's adopted son as
his successor In a letter which Nerva sent at once to
Trajan he quoted most significantly a line from the begin-
ning of the Iliad, where Chryses, insulted by Achilles,
prays to Apollo • " May thy shafts afford me vengeance
on the Greeks for my tears" After a little hesitation
Trajan accepted the position, which was marked by the
titles of imperator, Caesar, and Germanicus, and by the
tribunician authority He immediately proceeded to Lower
Germany, to assure himself of the fidelity of the troops in
that province, and while at Cologne he received news of
Nerva's death (January 98). The authority of the new
emperor was recognized at once all the empire over, fhe
novel fact that a master of the Romans should have
been bom on Spanish soil seems to have passed with little
remark, and this very absence of notice je significant
Trajan's first care as emperor was to write to the senate
an assurance like that which had been given by Nerva,
that he would neither kill nor degrade any senator He
ordered the establishment of a temple and cult in honour
of his adoptive father, but he did not present himself at
Rome for nearly two years after his accession. Possibly
he had taken measures before Nerva's death to secure the
revenge which Nerva craved, but probably did not live to
see. In his dealings with the mutinous praetorians the
strength of the new emperor's hand was shown at once.
He ordered a portion of the force to Germany. They did
not venture to disobey, and were distributed among the
legions there. Those who remained at Rome were easily
overawed and reformed. It is still more surprising that
the soldiers should have quietly submitted to a reduction
in the amount of the donative or gift which it was custom-
ary for them to receive from a new emperor, though tho
civil population of the capital were paid tbeir largess (congi-
arium) in full. By politic management Trajan was abla
to represent the diminution as a sort of discount for
immediate payment, while the civilians had to wait a con-i
siderable time before their full due was handed to them. |
The secret of Trajan's power lay in his close personal
relations with the officers and men of the army and in the
soldierly qualities which commanded their esteem. He
possessed courage, justice, and frankness to a high degree.
Having a good title to military distinction himself, he
could afford, as the unwarlike emperors could not, to be
generous to his officers. The common soldiers, on the
other hand, were fascinated by his personal prowess and
TRAJAN
50.3
his somewhat ostentatious camaraderie. His features were
firm aud clearly cut ; his figure was tall and soldierly,
and exhibited the sinewy hard health of a veteran cam-
paigner His hair was already grey before he came to the
throne, though he was not more than forty-four years old
The stoutness of the emperor's arm had been proved in the
face of his men in many a hard fight. WMen on service he
Uiied the mean fare of the common private, dining on salt
pork, cheese, and sour wine. Nothing pleased him better
than 'o take part with the centurion or the soldier in
fencing or other military exercise, and he would applaud
»ny shrewd blow which fell upon his own helmet He
loved to display his acquaintance with the career of dis
, ting\::shed veterans, and to talk with them of their bat-
tles and their wounds. Probably he lost nothing of his
popularity with the army by occasional free indulgence
in sensual pleasures, with which, as Bacon remarks, the
eoldier is apt to pay himself for the perils he encounters.
Yet every man felt and knew that no detail of military
duty, however minute, escaped the emperor's eye, and that
any relaiation of discipline would be rigidly punished, yet
with unwavering justice. Trajan emphasized at once his
personal control and the constitutionality of his sway by
bearing on bis campaigns the actual title of " proconsul,"
which no other emperor had done. All things considered,
it is not surprising that he was able, without serious
opposition from the army, to remodel the whole military
institutions of the empire, and to bring them into a
shape from which there was comparatively little departure
so long as the army lasted. In disciplinary matters no
emperor since Augustus had been able to keep so strong a
control over the troops. Pliny rightly praises Trajan as
the lawgiver and the founder of discipline, and Vegetius
classes Augustus, Trajan, and Hadrian together as restorers
of the morale of the army The confidence which existed
between Trajan and his army finds expression in some of
the coins of his reign.
For nearly two years after his election Trajan did not
appear in Rome. He had decided already what the great
task of his reign should be — the establishment of security
upon the dangerous north-eastern frontier. Before visiting
Ihe capital he determined to put affairs in train for the
attainment of this great object. He made a thorough in-
spection of the great lines of defence between the Danube
snd the Rhine, and framed and partly carried out a vast
scheme for strengthening and securing them. The policy
of opposing uncivilized tribes by the construction of the
limes, a raised embankment of earth or other material,
intersected here and there by fortifications, was not his
invention, but it owed in great measure its development
to him. It is probable that the northernmost part of
the great limes Germanise, from the Rhine at Rheinbrohl,
Dearly midway between Coblenz and Bonn, to a point on
the Main east of Frankfort, where that river suddenly
changes its course from north to west, was begun by
Domitian. The extension of this great barrier southwards
was undertaken by Trajan, though we cannot say how far
he carried the work, which was not entirely completed till
long after his time. The limes leaves the Main at Milten-
berg, a point at which the north and south course of the
river is broken by a great angle, and then follows a line
generally parallel to the stream of the Neckar, till it reaches
Lorch, a place between Stuttgart and Aalen. Here it
meets the so-called limes Rsttise, which trends eastward till
it cuts the Danube at Kelheim. a place some distance short
of Ratisbon, the ancient Caslra Regina. This grand work,
which would have excited the envy of Augustus, is trace-
able in its main extent at the present day We may with-
out hesitation follow the opinion of Mommsen, who main-
tains that the limes was not intended, like Hadrian's wall
between the Tyne and the Solway, and like the great wall
of China, to oppose an absolute barrier against incursions
from the outside. It was useful as marking definitely the
boundary of the Roman sway, aud as assuring the Romans
that no inroad could be made without inteUigence being
had of it beforehand, while the limes itself and the system
of roads behind it enabled troops to be directed rapidly to
any threatened point, and the fortified positions could be
held against large numbers till reinforcements arrived.
Great importance was no doubt attached to the perfection of
the lines of communication bearing on the limes. Among a
people of roadmakers, Trajan was one of the greatest, and
we have definite evidence from inscriptions that some of
the military roads in this region were constructed by hia.
The more secure control which the Romans now maintained
over the territory within the limts tended to it3 rapid
civilization, and the Roman influence, if not the Roman
arms, soon began to affect powerfully the regions beyond.
After his careful survey of the Rhine end of the great
defensive barrier, Trajan proceeded to consider it and plan
it from the Danube. From the age of Tiberius onwards
the Romans possessed the whole southern bank of tha
river from its source to the Euxine. But the precarious
tenure of their possession had been deeply impre3.<;ed on
them by the disasters and humiliations they had under-
gone in these districts during the reign of Domitian. A
prince had arisen among the Dacians, Decebalus hy name, '
worthy to be placed ^t the head of all the great burbariaQi
antagonists of Rome. Like Maroboduus, he was able tc
combine the forces of tribes commonly hostile to each
other, and his military ability almost went the length of
genius. After he had swept the province of MoDsia bare, !
he was defeated by ona of Domitian's lieutenants, but'
the position of affairs on the Danubio-Rhenish border was'
still 80 threatening that the emperor was glad to conclude
a treaty which conferred extraordinary advantages on his
foe. Not only did the Romans stipulate to pay to Dec©.!
balus an annual subsidy, which he must have regarded as
a tribute, but they agreed to supply him with engineers
and craftsmen skilled in all kinds of construction, bClt'
particularly in the erection of fortifications and defensive
works. During the nine or ten years which had elapsed!
since the conclusion of this remarkable treaty, the Dacianj
prince had immensely strengthened the approaches to his'
kingdom from the Roman side. He had also equipped i
and drilled his formidable army after the Roman fastdon.
It was impossible for a soldier like Trajan to endure tho
conditions laid down by Domitian ; but the conquest of j
Dacia had become one of the most formidable tasks that'
had ever confronted the empire. Trajan no doubt planned
a war before he left the Danube for Rome late in 99.
The arrival of the emperor had been awaited in ths
capital with an impatience which is expre^si'd by Pliny and
by Martial' All that had happened since Trajan's eleva-
tion to the throne had raised high at Romo the hope of a
prosperous and glorious reign. Ai he entered the. city
and went on foot to the Capitol, the plaudits of the
people were unmistakably genuine. During bis stay in
the city he riveted more firmly still the affections buth
of the senate and of the people. The reconci'iution of
the empire with hberty, inaugurated, as Tacitus says, by
Nerva, seemed now to be securely achieved. Trajan was
absolutely open and simple, and lived with men a; Rome
as he had Uved with his soldiers while on Eervi».b. He
* It has been conjectured, not Improbably, that the Oerruinia t.f
Tacitus, written at thia period, had for one of its aims the enlighten-
ment of the Romans concerning the formidable character of the Ger-
moois, so that they might at once bear more readily with the tmpj'or's
prolonged absence and be pi'epared for the necessity of decisive liCtioa
on the frontier.
■504
TRAJAN
realized the senate's ideal of the citizen ruler. The assur-
ance that no senator should suffer was renewed by oath.
All the old republican formalities were most punctiliously
observed — even those attendant on the emperor's election
to the consulate, so far as they did not involve a restora-
tion of- the old order of voting at the comitia. The vene-
ration for republican tradition is curiously attested by the
reproduction of many republican types of coin struck by
senatorial officers. Trajan seized every opportunity for
emphasizing his view that the priruxps was merely the
greatest of the magistrates, and so was not above but
under the laws. He was determined, he said, to be to
his subjects such a ruler as he had desired for himself
when a subject. There is a pretty story to the effect that
he handed the commander of the praetorians his sword,
and said, " Use it for me if I do well, but against me if I
do ill." Martial, who had called Domitian his lord and
his god, now cried, " In him we have no lord, but an
imperator ! " Real power and influence were accorded
to the senate, which had now, by the incorporation of
members whose origin was provincial, become in a manner
representative of the whole empire. Trajan associated
with the senators on equal terms, and enjoyed in their
company every kind of recreation. All pomp was dis-
tasteful to him, and discarded by him. There was practi-
cally no court, and no intrigues of any kind were possible.
The approach to his house was free, and he loved to pass
through the city unattended, and to pay unexpected visits
to his friends. He thirsted for no senator's blood, and
used severity against the delatores alone. There was but
one insigniticant conspiracy against him during his whole
reign. Though not literary himself, Trajan conciliated
the literary men, who at all times had close relations with
the senate. His intimate, M. Licinius, played an excellent
Maecenas to his Augustus. In his efforts to win the affec-
tions of Roman society, Trajan was excellently aided by
his wife Plotina, who was as simple as her husband, bene-
volent, pure in character, and entirely unambitious. The
hold which Trajan acquired over the people was no less
firm than that which he maintained upon the army and
the senate. His largesses, his distributions of food, his
public works, and his spectacles were all on a generous
scale. The exhibitions in the arena were perhaps at their
zenith during his tenure of power. Though, for some un-
explained reason, he abolished the mimes, so beloved of
the populace, at the outset of his reign, he availed himself
of the occasion of his first triumph to restore them again.
The people were delighted by the removal of the imperial
txedra in the circus, whereby five thousand additional places
were provided. Taxation was in many directions reduced,
and the financial exactions of the imperial officers controlled
by the erection of a special court. Elaborate precautions
were taken to save Italy from famine , it is said that corn
for seven years' consumption at the capital was retained
in the granaries. Special encouragement was given to
merchants to import articles of food. The corporation
of bakers was organized, and made more etfective for the
service of the public. The internal trade of Italy was
powerfully stimulated by the careful maintenance and
extension of the different lines of road. But the most
striking evidence of Trajan's solicitude for his people's
welfare is found in his institution of the ahmenta, whereby
means were provided for the rearing of poor and orphan
children in Italy. The method had been sketched out by
Nerva, but its great development was due to Trajan. The
moneys allotted by the emperor were in many cases sup-
plemented by private benevolence. As a soldier, Trajan
realized the need of men for the maintenance of the
empire against the outer barbarians, and he preferred
that these men should be of Italian birtL He was only
carrying a step farther the policy of Augustus, who by
a system of rewards and penalties had tried to encourage
marriage and the nurture of children. The actual effect
of Trajan's regulations is hard to measure ; they were
probably more effectual for their object than those of
Augustus. The foundations were confiscated by Pertinax,
after they had existed less than a century.
During the year 100, when Trajan was consul for the
third time, Pliny, who had been designated consul for a
part of it, was appointed to deliver the " Panegyric " which
has come down to us, and which forms the most important
source of our knowledge concerning this emperor. Pliny's
eulogy of Trajan and his denunciation of Domitian an
alike couched in extravagant phrases, but the former per-
haps rests more uniformly on a basis of truth and justice
than the latter. The tone of the " Panegyric " certainl;
lends itself to the supposition of some historians that Trajaa
was inordinately vain. That the emperor had an honest
and soldierly satisfaction in his own well-doing is clear;
but, if he had had anything like the vanity of a Domitian,
the senate, ever eager to outrun a ruler's taste for flattery,
would never have kept within such moderate bounds.
Towards the end of 100, or early in 101, Trajan left
Rome for the Danube. Pretexts for a Dacian war were
not difficult to find. Although there was no lack of hard
fighting, victory in this war depended largely on the work
of the engineer. The great military road connecting the
posts in Upper Germany with those on the Danube, which
had been begun by Tiberius, was now extended along the
right bank of the river as far as the modem OreoTa. Th»
year 101 was spent mainly in road-making and fortifica-
tion. In the following campaign, after desperate fighting
to the north of the Danube in the mountainous region
of Transylvania, such as Caesar never encountered in all
his Gaulish wars, the capital of Decebalus was taken, and
he was forced to terms. He agreed to raze all fortresses,
to surrender all weapons, prisoners, and Roman deserters,
and to become a dependent prince under the suzerainty of
Rome. Trajan came back to Italy with Dacian envoys,
who in ancient style begged the senate to confirm the con-
ditions granted by the commander in the field. The em-
peror now enjoyed his first Dacian triumph, and assumed
the title of Dacicus. At the same time he royally enter
tained the people, and no less royally re»arded his braive
officers. But the Dacian chief could not school his high
spirit to endure the conditions of the treaty, and Trajan
soon found it necessary to prepare for another war. A
massive stone bridge was built across the Danube, near the
modern Turn Severin, by ApoUodorus, the gifted architect
who afterwards designed the forum of Trajan. In 105
began the new struggle, which on the side of Decebalus
could now only lead to victory or -to destruction. The
Dacians fought their ground inch by inch, and their army
as a whole may be said to have bled to death. The prince
put an end to his own life. His kingdom became an
imperial province ; in it many colonies were founded, and
peopled by settlers drawn from different parts of the
empire. "The work done by Trajan in the Danubian
regions left a lasting mark upon their history. The
emperor returned to the capital in 106, laden with cap-
tured treasure. His triumph outdid in splendour all those
that went before it. Games are said to have been held
continuously for four months. Ten thousand gladiators
contended in the arena, and eleven thousand beasts were
killed in the contests. Congratulatory embassies came
from all lands, even from India. The grand and enduring
monument of the Dacian wars is the noble pillar which
still stands on the site of Trajan's forum at Rom&
The end of the Dacian wars was followed by seven years
of peace. During part of that time Pliny was imperial
T R A— T R A
legate in the provinces of Bithynia and Pontus, and in
constant communication with Trajan. The correspondence
is extant, and gives us the means of observing the prin-
ciples and tendencies of the emperor as a civil governor.
The provinces (hitherto senatorial) were in considerable disorder,
which Pliny \v,is sent to cure. It is clear from the emperor's letters
that in regard to nine out of ten of the matters which his anxious
and defeix'nlial Ic^te referred to him for his decision he would
have been better pleased if the legate had decided them for him-
self. Trajan's notions of civil government were, like those of the
duke of Wellington, strongly tinged with military prepossessions.
He regauled the provincial ruler as a kind of officer in command,
who ought to be able to discipline his province for himself, and
only to appeal to the comn^ander-in-chief in a difficult c;ise. In
advising Pliny about the ditferent free communities in the pro-
vinces, Trajan showed the same regard for tradjlional rights and
privileges which he had exhibited in f;ice of the senate at Rome.
At the same time, these letters bring home to us his conviction
that, particularly in financial affairs, it was necessary that local
self-government should be carried on under the vigilant super-
vision of imperial officers. The ''ontrol which he began in this
way to exercise, both in Italy and in the provinces, over the
"municipia" and "liber* civitates," by means of agents entitled
(then or later) "correctores civitatium liberarum,*' was carried
continually farther and farther by his successors, and at last ended
in the complete centralization of the government. On this account
the reign of Trajan constitutes a turning point in civil as in
military liistory. In other directions, though wo tiiid many
salutary civil measures, yet there were no far-ieacliing schemes
of reform. Many details in the administration of the law, and
particularly of the criminal law. were improved. To cure corruption
in the senate the ballot was introduced at elections to magis-
tracies. The finances of the state were economically managed,
and taxpayers were most carefully guarded from oppression.
Trajan never lacked mooey to expend on great works of public
utility; as a ouilder, he niay fairly be compared with Au£;ustus.
His forum and its numerous appendages were constructed on a
magnificent scale. Many regions of Italy and the provinces
besides the city itself benefited by the care and munificence which
the emperor bestowed on such public improvements. His attitude
towards religion was, like that of Augustus, moderate and con-
servative. The famous letter to Pliny about the Christians is,
according to Roman ideas, merciful and coosideraic. It was im-
possible, however, for a Roman magistrate of the time to rid him-
self of the idea that all forms of leligioii must do homage to the
civil power. Hence the conflict which made Tr.ijan appear in the
eyes of Christians like Tertullian the most infamous of monsters.^
On the whole, Trajan's civil administration was sound, careful,
and sensible, rather than brilliant or epoch-making.
In 113 or 114 Trajan left Italy to make war in the
East. The never ending Parthian problem confronted him,
and with it were more or less, connected a number of minor
difficulties. Already by 106 the position of Rome in the
East had been materially improved by the peaceful anne.xa-
tion of districts bordering on the province of Syria. The
district of Q^mascus, hitherto a dependency, and the last
remaining fragment of the Jewish kingdom, were incor-
porated with Syria ; Bostra and Petra were permanently
occupied, and a great portion of the Nabatha;an kingdom
was constituted the Roman province of Arabia. Rome
thus obtained mastery of the most important positions
lying on the great trade routes from East to West. These
changes could not but affect the relations of the Roman
with the Parthian empire, and the affairs of Armenia be-
came in 1 14 the occasion of a war which has been described
under Persia, vol. xviii. p. 603. Trajan's campaigns in
the East ended in complete though brilliant failure. In
the retreat from Ctesi|)hon (117) the old emperor tasted for
ttlmost the first time the bitterness ol defeat in the field.
He attacked the desert city of Hatra, westward of the
Tigris, whose importance is still attested by grand ruins.
The want of water made it impossible to maintain a large
force near the city, and the brave Arabs routed the Roman
cavalry. Trajan, who narrowly escaped being killed, was
forced to withdraw. A more alarming difficulty lay before
him. Taking advantage of the absence of the emperor in
the far East, and possibly by an understanding with the
lea(1ers of the rising in Armenia and the annexed portions of
23— 111*
Parthia, the Jews all over the East had taken up arma 2.t t'uo
same moment, and at a given signal. The massacres they
committed were portentous. In Cyprus 240,000 men are
said to have been put to death, and at Cyrenc 220,000,
At Alexandria, on the other hand, many Jews were killed.
The Romans punished massacre by massacre, and the
complete suppression of the insurrection was long delayed,
but the Jews made no great stand against disciphned
troops. Trajan still thought of returning to Mesopotamia,
and of avenging his defeat at Hatra, but he was stricken
with sickness and compelled to take ship for Italy. His
illness increasing, he lauded in Cilicia, and died at Selinus
in that country about the end of July 117. Trajan, who
had no children, had continually delayed to settle the suc-
cession to the throne, though Pliny in the "Panegyric"
had pointedly drawn his attention to the matter, and it
must have caused the senate much anxiety. Whether
Hadrian, the cousin of Trajan, was actually adopted by
him or not is impossible to determine ; certainly Hadriao
had not been advanced to any great honours by Trajan.
Even his military service had not been distinguished.
Plutina asserted the adoption, and it was readily and most
fortunately accepted, i£ not believed, as a fact.
The senate had decreed to Tiajan as many triumphs as
he cho.se to celebrate. For the first time a dead general
triumphed. When Trajan was deified, he appropriately
retained, alone among the emperors, a title he had won for
himself in the field, that of " Parthicus." He v.asa patient
organizer of victory rather than a strategic genius. He
laboriously perfected the military machine, which when
once set in motion went on to victory. Much of the work
he did was great and enduring, but the last year of his life
forbade the Romans to attribute to him that/c/tci/as which
they regarded as an inborn quality of the highest generals.
Each succeeding emperor was saluted with the wish that
he might be " better than Trajan and more fortunate than
Augustus." Yet the breach made in Trajan's fdicilas by
the failure in the East was no greater than that made in
the filkttas of Augustus by his retirement from the right
bank of the Rhine. The question whether Trajan's
Oriental policy was wise is answered emphatically by
Mommsen in the affirmative. It was certainly wise if
the means existed which were necessary to carry it out
and sustain it. But succeeding history proved that those
means did not exist. The assertion of .Nlommsen that the
Tigris was a more defensible frontier than the desert line
which separated the Parthiau from the Roman empire can
hardly be accepted. The change would certainly have
created a demand for more legions, which the resources of
the Romans were not sufficient to meet without danger to
their possessions qn other frontiers.
The rccortis of Trajan's reigti are miserably deficient. Our best
authority is the 6Stli book of Die Cassius, then conies the " Pane-
gyric" of Plmy, with his correspondence. The facts to be gathered
from other ancient writers are scattered and scanty. Fortunately
the inscriptions of. the time are abundant and iini'ortant. Of modern
histories which comprise the reign of Trajan the best in Engbsh is
that of Mertvale ; but that in German by H. Schiller(Ccic/..(Afc</(.r
Toniischcn Kaiscrzeit, Gotha, 1S83) is move on a level witii recent
inquiries. There are special works on Trajan by H. Fiancka
(Cnstrow, 1837), De la Berge (Paris, 1S77), ant Dicraucr (in M.
Budinger's Untcrsttthungcn zur rdmischcn /CaiscrgcschtchCe, Lcipsic^
I86S). A paper by Mommsen in Ilenncs, iii. pp. ZQ sq., cTititled
" Zur Lebensgescbichto des jungeren Pliuius," is iuiportant fur tha
chronology of Trajau's reign. (J. ^- K.)
TRALEE, a market town and seaport, and the chief
town of Kerry, Ireland, is situated on the Eallymulljii or
Leigh river, about a mile from where it discharge.^ itself
into Tialce Say. and on the Great Southern and Vi"usicrn
Railway, 21 niitos north-west of Killarney and 18 smth-
west of Listowel. It is a neat, wellbuilt, and compara-
tively prosperous town. The principal public buildings ara
XXIII. — 64
506
T R A — T R A
c'je court-bonsa, the town-ball, the corn exchange, the
chamber of commerce, the workhouse, the infantry barracks,
the county hospital, and the fever hospital. A ship canal,
permitting the passage of ships of 200 tons burden, and
constructed at an expense of w£30,000j connects it with
Tixilee Bay. Coal, iron, and timber are imported, and
there is a considerable export of grain. There is a large
trade in butter. The population of the town in 1871 was
9506 and in 1881 it was 9396.
Ti-alee, anciently Tralci^h, the "strand of tne Leigh," owes its
origin to tlie foundation of a Dominican monastery in- 1213 by
John FiU-Thomas, of the Geraldine family. Daring the reign of
Elizabeth it was in the possession of Earl Desmond, on wliose for-
feiture it came into possession of the Dennys. At the tiu:u of the
rebellion in 1641 the English families in the neighbourhood asked
to be pb.cej in the castle under the charge of Sir Edward Denny,
but duriog bis absence a surrender was made. The town was in-
corporaied by a charter in the 10th of James I , and had the priri-
lego of sending two members to the Irish parliament Though
disfranchised at the Union, it obtained the privilege of returning
one member in 1832, but in 1885 it Was merged in the county.
TRAMWAY. Originally a tramway signified a wheel
track laid with timbers, and afterwards with iron plates,,
having a flange on the inner edge by which wheels of the
ordinary sort were kept in the track (see Railway). The
introduction of the flanged wheel and edge rail caused
tramways to be superseded by railways, but not until many
miles of tramroads had been laid and successfully worked
in various parts of the United Kingdom. Although the
name is sometimes given to a light railway, by a tramway
is now geneially understood a street railway, constructed
60 as to interfere but little with the ordinary traffic, on
which vehicles having flanged wheels are propelled by
animal or mechanical power. Tramways in this sense
originated in the United States.
A street railway for passengers was laid in New York
ID 1832, but it was soon removed on account of the
accidents caused by it. In 1852 a French engineer,
Loubat, revived tramway in New York, and they were
soon afterwards laid in other American cities. A short
Lne was also laid in Paris in 1853. The rails used were
of wroughtriron, 5 inches wide, having a groove for the
flanged wheels pi the cars If to 2} inches wide and 1 to
lA inches deep (fig. 1). To lessen the inconvenience to
ordinary traffic occasioned by
this rail, the " step rail " (fig. 2 ) ^
was introduced, consisting of a i''^ '//M//
flat surface 3 to 5 inches wide, '^^ ''■' '^^
which can be used by ordinary
wheels, and a raised tread on
the outer side 1 inch higher and
1 J inch wide, on which the
flanged wheels of the cars run.
This form of rail is still very general in America, and is a
good one for the tramways, though not for the general public.
In 1858-9 Train, an American, endeavoured to obtain an
Act of Parliacment authorizing tramways in London ; failing
in that, he laid tramways, by consent of the road author-
ity, first in 1860 at Birkenhead, and soon afterwards in
London The rail laid at Birkenhead had a step of J inch
between flat surfaces 3 inches and 1 i, inches wide. That
laid in London was narrower, with a step of half an
inch, but the slippery fiat surface and the step of the rail
caused serious inconvenience and numerous accidents to
iu.rriages, and the tramways were removed in a few
months, after one of them had been successfully indicted
A3 a nuisance In Birkenhead, in spite of complaints of
the inconvenience caused to the general trafl^c, the original
rails remained until 1864, when, after a short length had
been" laid as an experiment with a rail of the grooved
section now in general use (fig. 3), the whole of the tram-
way, several miles in length, was relaid with it. The
Fig 1
Fig 2
tramway was subsequently indicted as a nuisance, but the
trial resulted in a verdict in favour of the grooved rail.
In 1868 an Act of Parliament authorizing the consfruction
of about 6J miles of tramways in Liverpool was obtained ;
and in 1869-71 Acts for 61 miles of tramways in London
were passed, and were soon followed by other Acts for
tramways in Glasgow, Dublin, Edinburgh, and other pro-
vincial towns.
In 1870 the Tramways Act was passed, enabling the Tram-
Board of Trade to make provisional orders authorizing the ''">'*
construction of tramways in Great Britain, with the con- *"
sent of the local authorities, and giving considerable powers
for regvdating their construction and working. By the
Act the gauge, unless otherwise prescribed by special Act,
is to be such as will admit of the use of carriages con-
structed for use on railways of a gauge of 4 feet 8 J
iuches. Tramways for which Acts had been previously
obtained were of 4 feet 8i inches gauge, to comply with a
standing order intended for railways, and not to make
them available for railway rolling-stock, which the narrow
groove of an ordinary tramway rail will not admit. There
is reason to think that a narrower gauge, such as 3 feet
6 inches, is often sufficient and preferable to the 4 feet 8J
inches gauge.
Tramways in towns, authorized by provisional order,
are to be constructed in the middle of the road, and
are not to be so laid that for 30 feet and upwards a
less space than 9 feet 6 inches shall be left between the
outside of the footpath and tie rail, if one-third of the
owners or occupiers of premises abutting upon that part of
the road object. Vehides are thus enabled to stop at the
road side without hindrance from the tramcars. To leave
9 feet 6 inches on each side of a single line of tramway of
4 feet 8i inches gauge a street must be upwards of 24
feet wide. No carriage used on a tramway must extend
more than 11 inches beyond the outer edge of the wheels,
and there must be a space of atleagt 15 inches between
the sides of the widest carriages or engines to be used,
when passing one another. A width of not less than 3
feet 2 inches between double lines and at passing places
is thus necessary, and a double line of tramway, leaving
9 feet 6 inches space on each side, requires a street at
least 32 feet 6 inches wide between the footways. In nar-
row roads there is a convenience in having the tramway
at the side, and it is sometimes provided for in special
Acts. The space between the rails, and for 18 inches
beyond them, is repairable as part of the tramway. Power
is given to local authorities to purchase traajwaj'S at the
expiration of twenty-one years, and they may be removed
under certain circumstances.
It appears from a parliamentary return that iir 1886
there were 779 miles of street tramways open for traffic in
Great Britain, on which a capital of £11,503,438 had been
expended, the net receipts for the year being £563,735, and
the worting expenses 79 per cent of thegtoss receipts
The grooved rail first laid in England was 4^ inches wide and Cod-
an inch thick, having a tread
or rolling surface for the wheel
1 j inches wide, and a groove f
inch deep, | inch wide at the
bottom, and IJ inches wide at
the top (fig. 3). The rail was
spiked through to a longitudinal
timber laid on cross sleepers,
and secured to them by angle
brackets and spikes. This rail
and method of laying were gene-
rally adopted, but it was found
that the heads cf the spikes wore
olT, and the rails required re-
spiking, and split and worked loose at the joints. A rail known
as the bo.x-rail was introduced, having flanges below on each side, •
through holes In which clips are driven to fasten the rail to the tiro- J
Fig 3.
TRAMWAY
507
ber. This constitutes a good fastening, and the flanges give stiffness
to the rail, but the clifJS cause gaps between the rail and the paving
atones, which lead to the formation of ruts alongside the rails. Tbe
longitudiual timbers, instead of being laid on cross sleepers, on which
the paving does not bed well, are often fixed in cast-iron chairs con-
nected by transverse tie-bars. A bed of concrete 13 always laid under
the longitudinal timbers, and should extend to the whole width of
the paving The rails first laid weighed 40 lb per yard, but it was
eooQ found desirable to increase the weight to 60 Eb per yard. It is.
however, impossible to fish the joints of rails like the above, and it
was found that the working of the joints under the passage of the cars
loosened the ends of the rails, dislocated the paving, and daniai^ed
both the tramway cars and ordinary vehicles. Tramways proved
hardly able to withstand heavy street traffic ; and to provide for
steam traction a stronger form of rail and a better system ot perma
cent way became necessary Many forms of iron bearings have been
devised, the rail being either supported continuously or on chairs
At intervals. In the best of these the tram rai- can be replaced
when worn without disturbing the foundation In the system used
in Liverpool cast-iron longitudinal sleepers weighing 80 and 90 lb
« yard carry steel rails of a T section (fig 4) weighing 40 tb a yard,
both sleepers and rails being held down by bolts to jaws anchored
in the concrete foundation The rails can be renewed and the
•leeperscan be taken up with very little disturbaoce of the paving.
faring.
Fig. 4
Fig 6
Bteel rails of a flatfooted or a bridge section, and of such a depth
•3 to constitute both rail and sleeper, are also used. In some of the
latest and best examples the rail is of a Hatfooted section {fig. 5),
6 or 7 inches deep, and 6 or 7 inches wide at the base, weighing
C5 to 93 tb per yard. The head has a groove either planed out or
rolled in it, giving the Ubual prohle to the upper surface. The
joints are fished in the ordinary way, and are as .strong as the rail
Itself. Cross ties are sometimes used, but when the rail is slightly
bedded in the concrete foundation they are dispensed with The
paving is set in cement close against the rail, and is bedded directly
or in sand on the'base of the rail, upon which there is a bearing of
14 or 2 inches. Such a tramway will stand steam traction and
the heaviest street traffic, but the rail, which is of an expensive
section, requires entire renewal when the head is worn out. Iron
or steel continuous bearings are less elastic, and therefore more
jarring and noisy than timber sleepers.
The profile of the upper surface of tram rails has been little altered
since the fir.U grooved rail was devised for Birkenhead in 1863,
though slight modifications have been made in the form of the
groove with the object of lessening tractive resistance. For the
eake of the ordinary traffic the groove should not exceed 1 inch in
width, and a rounded section with sides splaying outwards facili-
tates the forcing out of the mud and dirt. A nearly upright side
next the tread or rolling surface with a splay on the inner side
throws the mud away from the wheel. The upper corners of the
rail should be angular, to make as thin a joint as possible between
the rail and the p.iving There has been a tendency to diminish
the width, and a rail as narrow as 3 inches has been laid. A
deviation from the usual profile has been adopted in Liverpool,
where the groove is in the middle of a lail 3\ iuclies wide.
A tramway must not only afford a good rolling surface capable of
bearing the weights running on it, but it must also be able to resist
the shocks of heavy vehicles crossing the rails in all directions.
The space between the rails, and for 18 inches beyond them, which
is repairable with the tramway, is always paved, sometimes in pro-
vincial towns and in the suburbs of London with wood, but generally
I with stone sets in the best manner on a concrete foundation. The
. sctsalongside the rail shouhl be carefully dressed and fitted to mi»ke
A thill joint There is much cxtia wear, and a tendency to form a
rut alongside the nil, aiising from ordiuary wheels using the tram
rail, and unless the surface of the paving is kept to the level of tlio
rail the wheels of carriages arc caught by the rail, and damage and
accidents are caused. To resist the wear near the rails, clii"ed cast-
iron blocks have been used where the traffic is great On a mac-
adamized road there is the same tendency to form a rut along the
outer edge of the tramway paving, which is to someexieut prevented
by giving a serrated edge to the pavmg. There is always great diffi-
culty in keeping the road surface to the level of tlie paving, and it is
better to pave the entire width of a street in which a tramway is laid.
Although cars can be drawn round very sharp curves, the latter Cxirvei)
should be as easy as possible. A radius of 150 to 200 feet is the
least that should be used when there 13 any choice, but necessity
may compel the use of curves of 50 or even 30 feet radius. Oa
such curves, however, the oars are lubte to bi; strained, and the
resistance to traction is greatly increased.
A single line of tramway must have passing places for the cars, Passmg
consisting of pieces of double hue of length sumcient to hold two places,
cars at least, with connecting curves and the nectrssary points and
crossings. Where steam or other mechanical power is to be used
the passing loops should be at least 200 feel in length. There iB
inevitable delay and loterlereoce with the street traffic at passing
places, and where cars are to be run at ire^uent intervals it is
better to lay down a double tine if the street is wide enough. It
IS a great advantage to the ordinary traffic Co have the care moving
always in the same direction on the same line of rails
For horse traction fixeJ points of chilled cast-iron or steel are Pointa
sufficient, as the driver can turn bia horses and direct the car on to and
either line of rails When mechanical power is used, drop fnjints cross-
or movable pomls are retjuired In the former ^ groove tfudiog luga
into tht road to be taken is ot the full depth, anu the other i^roov.-
shallow so that the engine and cars naturally take the former.,
On coming out of the shallownr groove to the deeper there is. bow-
ever, a drop encountered which is damaging to the rollmg stock,
and especully to the engines. Movable [luints require setting by
hand, or they are actuated by a spring or balance weight "In one
form of spnng point one groove is filled up by a tongue which is
pressed down by wheels passing out of a loop, but which forms the
Side of the groove for wheels running the opposite direction A
spring point of steel, which is forced aside by the tUoge of the
wheel passing out, and shuts close again by its own elasticity, is
also successfully used A movable point on one side of the way
IS sufficient Crossings are either built up from rails cut to the
required angle, or they are cast solid in steel or chilled iron. Fill-
ing pieces of the same material, roughened on the surface for foot-
hold, are inserted between the raits at the angles of pointa and
crossings. Both points and crossings vve^r rapidly, and are trouble-
some to maintain in good condition, and when uot so maintained
are dangerous to ordiuary tralEa
The tramcars generally in u^e in the United Kingdom are con- Cars,
structed to carry 22 persons inside and 24 outside. They are 16
feet long in the body, or 24 feet including the platforms at each
end, and weigh 2^ to 2J tons when empty and about 5^ tons v bea
fully loaded. Smaller cars to carry 20 or 14 persons inside, drawn
by one horse, are useful to run at short intervals when the traffic
is not great, a frequent service of cars being a great element of
success. The car wheels are usually of steel or chilled iron, with
a flango half an inch deep, aud are fitted with powerful brakes.
The axles are about 6 feet apart, giving a short wheel-base to
enable the cars to pass sharp curves, but with the disadvantage ol
overhanging ends. Cars to be drawn by mechanical power, espe-
cially if outside passengers are to be carried, should have a flexible
wheel-base, either by means of bogie frames or radiating axles.
In Hamburg and Copenhagen tramcars have wheels without flanges,
and a small guiding wheel running in the groove, which can be
raised to allow the car to leave the track. *
The tractive force required on a straight aud level tramway is Traction,
found to vary from xhi to ^ of the load, according to the con-
dition of the rails. On a trartwaj in average condition it is
about 1-Jtj. The resistance is thus at the best nearly double that
on a railway, and sometimes as much as on a good pavement.
This is due to the friction of the tlange of the wlieel in the grooved
rail, and to the circumstance that the latter is always more or less
clogged uith dirt. The clearance between the flange and the
groove IS necessarily small, hs the former must have sufficient
strength, and the latter must be narrow. The least inaccuracy of
gauge, therefore, causes extra fiiction, which is greatly increased
Oh curves. By removing the flanges from two of the four wheels
of a tramway car Tresta found that the resistance was reduced
fiom iVir to ■jj^ of the load. The resistance due to gravity is of
couise uot lessened on a tramway ; and, if yths of ^be load be the
tractive force required on the level, twice as much, or 3^ of the load,
will be required ou a gradient of 1 in 100 and three times as much
on a gradient of 1 in 50 To start a tiamcar, four or five times as
great a pull is required as will keep it in motion afterwards, and
the constant starting alter stoppages, especially on inclines, is
very destructive to horses. Horses employed on tramways aro
worked only a few hours a day, a day's work being a journey of 10
or 12 nules, or much less on steep gradients. In London a tiam-
car hoi"se bought at the age of five years has to be sold at a low
price after about four years" work. On the Edinburgh tramways, in
conscquciicr. of the bteep gradients, the horses last a less time, and
they have to b6 constantly shifted fiom steep to easier gradients.
The cost, of traction by horses is generally 6a. or 7d. per mile for
two liorses, nnd more when the gradients are steep.
The application of steantas a motive power on street tramways Steam
is attended with special oifficulties, arising from the conditions traction.
508
TRAMWAY
( om-
^der which tha engines have" to work. ' A Jramway engine must
.be able to draw it3 load upfiteep gradients, liemanding perhaps seven
or eight tunes the power required on a level, and it must have
the necess&y adhesion without being too heavy, for the permanent
way. It muit be capable of traversing sharp corves, of going
backwards or forwards with safety, and of stopping and starting
quickly. For the safety and convenience of the public the Board
of Trade require that tramway engines shall have brakes to each
wheel, to be applied by hand and by steam, a governor so arranged,
as to shut off the steam and apply the brakes when the engine
exceeds the speed of 10 miles an honr or other stated speed, an
indicator to show the speed, a whistle or bell to be sounded as a
warning, and a fender to push aside obstructions > the engine
must be free from noise produced by blast, and from clatter of
machinery such as to constitute a reasonable ground of complaint;
and the machinery and fire must be concealed from view; no
smoke or steam must be emitted so as to constitute any reasonable
ground of complaint to passengers or the public
' The first attempt to use steam on a modern tramway was with
Grantham's combined engine and car. It was about 25 feet long,
having a vertical boiler in a central compartment, with the steam
cylinders below, diiving one pair of wheels 2 feet 6 inches in
diameter. It carried 20 passengers inside and 24 outside, weighing
64 tons empty and 12 tons when fully loaded. In a later car the
boiler and machinery were at one end, and the body of the car was
carried on a bogie frame. In a combined engine and car the
weight of the car and passengers is utilized for adhesion of the
driving wheels, and this is conveniently effected in Rowan's car,
in which there are two four-wheel bogies, the leading one carrying
the engine and boiler, and half the body of the car and passengers.
The engine can be detached from the car for repair and another
engine can be substituted in a few minutes. Economy of rolling
stock; and the advantage of being able to use cars intended for
horses, are in favourxif independent engines. They are nsually in
general construction similar to locomotives, but are enclosed so as
to resemble in outward appearance a short tramcar. The cylinders
are 6 to 9 inches in diameter, with a stroke of 10 to 12 inches.
The wheels are coupled, 2 to 3 feet in diameter, and thS engines
weigh 4 to 6 tons with fuel and water. The governor to shut off
steam and apply the brakes when any determined speed is attained
is actuated either by the engiue wheels or by an independent
wheel to prevent the possibility of the brakes being pnt on when
the driving-wheels slip. An effectual way of rendering the exhaust
steam invisible is to condense it by passing it through water in a
tank, or through a shower of water let off at each blast, but when
the water gets not it must be changed, and in streets it is difficult
,to get rid of the hot water. Several methods of superheating by
passing the exhaust steam through the fire have been adopted, but
they are all attended with an increased consumption of fuel, which
in cold damp weather is considerable. It is now preferred to pass
the steam into tubes exposed to the air on the top of the engine
car, from which the condensed water is returned to the feed-tank,
to be again pumped into the boiler at a high temperature. Any
steam remaining uncondensed passes into the smoke-box. Com-
pound cylinders have been applied to tramway engines, giving a
greater range of power, economizing fuel, and rendenng the exhaust
iteam easier to -deal with. The extra complication .of a compound
engine is, however, a drawback.
I The cost of steam ti&ttion with engines of ordinary size is gene-
rally 3d., to 4d. per mile run by the engine, and more on lines with
Itcep gradients. To this must be added for depreciation 10 per
Mnt, or, according to some authorities, 15 percent, on the original
cost of the engines, making altogether 4d. to 6(1. per mile run on a
tramway with average gradients.
IFireless engines were first tried in New Orleans, and have been
'h successful nse on tramways in France for some years. The
.-uotive power is obtained from water heated under pressure to a
'ery high temperature in stationary boilers and carried in a
reservoir, where it gives off steam as the pressure and temperature
are reduced.' Two tons of water heated to give a steam-jpressure of
250 lb to the square inch serves for a run of 8 or 10 miles, leaving
more than -fn of the water and a pressure of 20 to 25 lb above the
atmosphere on returning to the boiler. Large boiler-power is
required to reheat the engine reservoirs quickly, and this cannot.
be afforded for only a few engines, but, when worked on asufiicient
scale, the fireless engines are claimed to'^e economical, the economy
resulting from the -generation of the -team in large stationary
boilels^
"CoiiTiil'essed air « a motive power offers the advantage of having
Ineither steam nor the products of combustion to be got rid of.
In Scott Moncricir? engine, which was tried on the Vale of Clyde
tramways in 1876, air was compressed to 310 tb on the square inch,
and enpaiided in the cylinders from a uniform working pressure to
that of the atmosphere. There is a considerable loss of heat during
the expansion of the air which is attended with a serious loss of
pressure, and in Mekariki's system, which has been in use for the
Biopulsion of traiiic»r\«t N«iites for seven years, the loss of pres^
sure is considerably lessened by heating the air during expansion,'
The air, at a pressure of 426 lb per square inch, is stored in cylindrical
reservoirs beneath thecar^and before use is passed through a vessel
three quarters full of water heated to 300° F., by which it is heated
and mixed with steam. The heat of the latter is absorbed by the
air during its expansioix, first to a working pressure which can' be
regulated by the driver, and then to atmospheric pressure in the
cylinders. At Nantes the average cost for three years for propel-
ling a car holding 34 pereons was about 6d. per mile.
In San Francisco a main charged with air at a pressure of about,
120 Tb per square inch has been laid along the tram route, from
which reaorvx>irs on the Cars are charged by means of standpipes
and flexible connexions at convenient "points, the operation taking
a very short time. The inventor claims to utilize 30 per cent, of,'
the power applied to the compressor.
Street tramways worked by means of a wire rope have " h-e in Cabli
successful operation in San Francisco since 1873. There t-j Lcwtram-'
upwards of 24 miles of double line in San **y?f
Francisco, and 10 miles in Chicago, and the
system is being adopted in other American
and colonial cities. It has also been in
operation in England at Highgate Hill for,
several years, and is about to be adopted-in
other localities. The motive power is trans-
mitted from a stationary engine by a rope of
steel wire running always in one direction
up one track and down the other, in 4 tube
midway between the rails, on pulleys which
are arranged so as to suit curves and changes
of gradient as well as straight and level
lines. Over the rope is a* slot | inch wide,
in which travels a flat arm of
steel connect'ing the dummy
car with -the gripper which
_ripp
grasps the cable. The flat arm
is in three pieces, the two
outer ones constituting a frame
which carries theJower jaw of
thegripper, with grooved rollers
at each end of it, over which
the cable runs when the gripper
is not in action. The apperj
jaw is carried by the
middle piece, which
slides within the outer
frame, and can be de-
pressed by a lever or
screw, pressing the
cable firstonthe rollers,
and then on the lower
jaw until it is firmly t
held. The speed of the
cable, which is gene-
rally 6 to 8 miles an
hour, is thus imparted <^^^^^
to the car gradually
and without jerk. The
arrangements for pass-
ing the pulleys, for F». 6.-Gripper.
changing the dummy
and cars from one line to the other at the end of the road, fori
keeping the cable uniformly taut, and for crossings and junction**
with other lines are of considerable ingen-;
uity. "When the cars are cast off from the ■
cable they must be stopped by hand brakes,
which on steep gradients especially must
be of great I'ower.
The system has advantages on double
lines with lew and easy curves when the
gradients are long .ind steep, and it can be
employed on gradients too steep for s^eam
traction. On level lines it is doubtful if it
could compete in economy with steam, or
even with horse traction, unless with a very frequent service of cars
Uiough then it presents the advantages of being cotsparatively
quiet, and free from smoke and steam, and of admitting a frequent
service of cars with little extra cost Ob the cable roads of San
Francisco it has been found that, of the average daily power em-
ployed, 68 per cent is expended in moving the cables, ic. , 28 pei
cent, for the cars, and 4 j>er cent, for passengers. It is considered
that it is practicable to -utilize in moving cars and.4)assenger8 as
much as 60 per cent, qf the power, provided the cars are full»
lo.Tded and run at short ^ptervals.
Electricity has been allied as a motive power -on a traB-wi\ Ziectnit
about 2 miles long at Blac'kpool. The current is conveyed bj t»u molor^
copreer conductors in a central channel beneath the roadway, and
is communicated to the motors in the car by a collector runuiug,
Fit 7.— CarTTlng Polle)-.^
T R A — T R A
509
apoD the conductors and passing throagh a narrow slit in the
channel. The return current passes through the rails. The cars
carrv as many as 56 passengers on a l»vel line Tramways have
• I- L»een worked by accuTiulatorsat AQtwerp and Brussels, but the
Weight of them appears to be at present prohibitory to this method
of applying electricity, ejtcept for short trips. See Traction
For fuller uiforTnat>OD, k« D K Clara. Tramvars, tttetr Conurvetitm and
MaiMavoKe. F S^iafon, LfS Tramcofi ef 1*3 C^inins tf« Fer ttir Kotttti :
" Street Tr»m»8TB," Prtx. Inu C C. »ol I -»ol Ixtil, -The Working o( Tmm
«f«ys by St«8m." /6*/. »oI. IxUx.; and F B. Sinith. Cabl' Trarwtavi (T C 1
TRANCE See Sleep; also Magnetism (Animal)
TR.\NI, a seaport of Italy, on the Adriatic, id the
provioce of Bari. and 26 miles by rail west north west of
that town, still retains its old walls and bastions, with the
citadel, now used as a prison Some of the streets remain
much as they were i-i the mediaeval period, and many of
the houses display more or less of Norman decoration
The cathedral, on a raised open site near the sea, dating
from about the year 1100, is a basilica with three apses, a
large crypt, and a lofty tower The arches of the Roman-
esque portal are beautifully ornamented, in a manner
suggestive of Arab influence . the bronze doors, executed
by Barisanus of Trani •'. 1175, rank among the best of
their period in southern Italy The capitals of the pillars
in the crypt are fine e.xamples of the Romanesque The
interior of the cathedral has been barbarously modernized
The vicinity of Trani produces an excellent wine (Moscado
di Trani); and its figs, oil. almonds, and corn are also pro
Stable articles of trade The harbour was once deep and
good, but latterly has got silted up The population of
the town in 1881 was 25,173 (commune 25.647)
Trani is the Turenum of the itineraries It first became a
flourishing p'ace under tbe Normans and during the crusades, but
attained the acme of lis prosperity as a seat of trade with tbe East
under the Angevioe princes Several synagogues continue to aiford
An indication of its former commercial yrosj^erity
TRANQUEBAR, a seaport town in the Tanjore district
of Madras presidency, India, in II' !' 37" N lat. and
79° 55' E. long. In the 17th century it belonged to the
Danes; it was taken by the British with other Danish
settlements in 1807, but restored in 1814, and finally
purchased in 1845 for a sum of £20.000 In Danish
times Tranquebar was a busy port, but Its prosperity has
fluctuated considerably of late years, and is now at a very
low ebb. It was the first settlement -of Protestant mis-
sionaries in India, founded by Ziegenbalg and Plutschau
(Lutherans) in 1706 ; and as a mission station it still
retains its importance.
See vol. TRANSBAIKALIA (ZabaikaUkaya OUasl). a province
pSe L °^ Eastern Siberia, to the east of Lake Baikal, has Irkutsk
00 the west, Yakutsk on tbe north, the province of Amur
on the east, and Mongolia on the south Its area
(240,780 square miles) is about as great as that of Austria-
Hungary, but its |X)pulation is under half a million With
regions of a purely Siberian character on the one hand,
and including on tbe other the outer borders of the
Mongolian steppes and the upper basin of the Amur,
Transbaikalia forms an intermediate link between Siberia,
Mongolia, and the northern Pacific littoral The mountains
of the Yablonovoi Kbrebet, which run in a northeasterly
direction from the sources of tbe Kerulefi to the bend of
the Olekma in 06° N lat , divide the province into two
quite distinct parts • to the west the upper terrace of tbe
high East Asian plateau continued from the upper Selenga
and Yenisei (from 4000 to 5000 feet high) towards the
plateau of the Vitim (3500 to 4000 feet) ; and to the east
the lower terrace of the same plateau (about 2800 feet
Ligh), which appears as a continuation of the eastern
Gobi. Tbe continuity of the high plateau extending from
the upper Selenga to the upper Vitim was for a long time
overlooked in consequence of a broad and deep valley by
which it is intersected. Beginning at Lake Baikal, it
pierces ths huge north-western border-ridge of the plateau,
and runs eastward tip the Uda, with an imperceptible'
gradient, like a gigantic railway cutting enclosed between .
two steep slopes, sending another branch south towards
Kiakhta After having served, through a succession of
geological periods, as an outlet for the water and ice which'
accumulated on the plateau, it is now utilized for the two'
highways which lead from Lake Baikal over the plateau I
(3500-4000 feet) to the An\ur in the east and the Chinese
depression in the south Elsewhere, the high and massive
border-ridge on the north western edge of the plateau can
be crossed only by difficult footpaths The border-ridge
just mentioned, pierced by the wideopening of the Selenga,
runs from south west to north-east under different names,
being known as Kbamar-daban to the south of Lake Baikal
(the Khamardaban peak raising its bald summit to a
height of 6900 feet above the sea), and as the Barguzin
Mountains (7000 to 8000 feet) aloug the eastern hank of
tbe Barguzin river, while farther to the north east it baa
been described by the present writer under the names of
the South Muya and Tchara Mountains (6000 to 7000
feet) Resting its south-east base on the plateau, it
descends steeply on the northwest to the lake, or to the
broad picturesque valleys of the Barguzin, the Muya, and
the Tchara Larch, fir, and cedar forests thickly clothe
the ridge, whose dome-shaped rounded summits {goltsy)
rise above tbe limits of tree vegetation, but do not reach
the snow line (here above 10,000 feet). The high plateau
Itself has the aspect of an undulating table-land, intersected
by low ranges, which rise some 1500 or 2000 feet above its
surface, and are separated by broad, flat, and marshy
valleys, which the rivers languidly traverse till they find
their way across the border-ridges. Those of the valleys
which are better drained have fine meadow lands, but as a
whole the plateau has the appearance, especially in the
north, of a wet or marshy prairie in the hollows, while the
hills are thickly clothed with forests (almost exclusively of
larch and bircb). Numberless lakes and pnnds occur along
the river courses Tungus hunters find a livelihood in the
forests and on the meadows, but permanent agricultural
settlements are impossible, corn seldom ripening on account
of the eai ly frosts The lower parts of the broad and flat
valley of the Djida have, however, a few Cossack settle-
ments, and on the upper Selenga and Yenisei Mongolian
shepherds (Uryankhes and Darkhates) inhabit the high
grassy valleys about Lake Kossogol (5560 feet above the
sea). Quite different is the lower terrace of the plateau,
occupied by the eastern Gobi and the Nertcbinsk region
of Transbaikalia, and separated from the above by the
Yablonovoi ridge._ This last is the south-eastern border
ridge of the higher terrace. It rises to 8250 feet in the
Sokhondo peak, but elsewhere its dome-shaped summits
do not exceed 5000 or 6000 feet. When crossing it from
the north-west, about Tchita, the traveller hardly perceives
that he is approaching the great water parting between the
Arctic and the Pacific oceans. Numberless lakes, with flat
undefined borders, feed streams which flow lazily amidst
marshes, some of them to join tbe tireat northward rivers,
others to find their way to the Amur and the Pacific. Low
hills rise gently above the edge of the plateau, but an
abrupt slope descends towards the south-east, where the
hill foots of the Yablonovoi are nearly 1500 and 2000 feet
lower than on the north-west Climate, flora, and fauna
suddenly change as soon as the Yablonovoi has been
crossed ; the steppes of Daiyia (continuations of th-ose of
the Gobi), covered with a bright luxuriant vegetation,
meet the view of the spectator. The Siberian flora gives
way to the much richer Daurian flora, which in turn ia!
exchanged for the Pacific littoral flora as soon as the
traveller descends from the lower terrace of the plateau
towards the Manchurian plains and lowlands.
510
TRANSBAIKALIA
The lower terrace, occupied in Transbaikalia by the
Nertchinsk district, has the character of a steppe, but is
also intersected by a number of ranges, all running south-
west to north-east, and all being plications of Silur'an and
Devonian rocks, containing silver, lead, and copper, and also
auriferous sands. Agrifiulture can be easily carried on in
the broad prairies, Ihe only drawbacks being droughts, and
also frosts in the settlements in the higher close v<i,ileys of
the Nertchinsk or Gazimur Mountains. The lower terrace
ia in its turn fringed by a border-ridge — the Great Khingan
■ — which has, vnth reference to the lower terrace, the same
characters as vhe Yablonovoi in relation to the upper, and
separates Siberia from northern Manchuria. This import-
ant ridge, as shown elsewhere (vol. xsii. pp. 3, 4), does not
tun from south to north, as represented on the old maps, but
from south-west to north-east ; it is pierced by the Amur
near Albazin, and joins the Okhotsk ridge, which in its turn
does hot join the Yablonovoi Mountains. The mountains
drawn west and east on older maps to connect the Yablo-
novoi with the Okhotsk ridge have no actual existence.
The rivers belong to three different systems, — the affluents of
Lake Baikal, of the Lena, and of the Amur. Of the first the
Selenga (800 miles long) rises in the Hanghai Mountains of north-
Vestern Mongolia, one of its great tributaries (the Ebin-gol) being
an emissary of Lake Kossogol. It flows past Selenghinsk and
enters Lake Baikal from the south-east, forming a wide delta. The
Tchikoi, the Khitok, and the Uda are its chief tributaries in
Transbaikalia.* The Earguzin and the Upper Angaraare two large
tributaries of Lake Baikal from the north-east Of the tributaries
of the Lena, the Vitim with its affluents (Karenga, Tsipa, Muya,
Katar, Katakan) flows on the high plateau through uninhabited
regions, as aUo does the Olekraa. The tributaries of the Amur,
which is formed by the junction of the Shilka and the Argiifi, are
much more important. The ArguS, which at a quite recent epoch
received the waters of the Dalai-nor, and thus had the KeruleB for
its source, is no longer in communication with the rapidly drying
Mongolian lake, and has its sources in the Gau, which Aowb i^rom
the Great Khingao. It is not navigable, but receives the Gazimur
and several other streams which water the Nertchinsk raining
district. The Shilka is formed by the union of thp Onon and the
Tchita rivers, and is navigable from the town of Tchita, thus being
an important channel of transit to the Amur.
Lake Baikal, with an area of 12.430 square miles (nearly equal to
that of Switzerland), extends in a half crescent from south-west to
north-east ; it has a length of over 400 miles and a width of from
20 to f>3 miles. Its level is 1561 feet above the sea.^ About
the middle it is divided into two parts, the Great Lake and the
Little Lake, by lh& Island Olkhon and the peninsula of Svyatoi
Nos, which closely approach one another. Between the two there
is a submerged ridge, which must bo considered as a continuation
of the Barguzin Alps. The wide delta of the Selenga narrows the
Great Lake in its middle part, and renders it more shallow in
the east than iri the west — the greatest depth (4186 feet) having
Iwen reached by Dr Godlevski in the soutn-west. The def.th of
the Little Lake does not exceed 210 feet. According to Tchersky,
the trough now occupied by the base had its origin in three sepa-
rate synclinal valleys, which date from the Azoic epoc"i, and were
gulfs of the ocean during the Silurian or Huronian period. They
coalesced at a much later epoch.' Of other lakes, the Gusinoye
and Lake Baunt on the Vjtim plateau, and Orun at its base, are
worthy of notice. Many lakes yield common salt or 8ulphat« of
natron.
The high plateau consists of granites, gneisses, and syenites,
covered with Laurentian scliists. Silurian and Devonian marine
deposits occur only on the lower terrace. Since that time the region
has not been nnder the sea, and only freshwater Jurassic deposits and
coal beds are met with in the depressions. During the Glacial
period most of the high terrace of the plateau and its border ridgts
were undoubtedly covered with vast glaciers. Volcanic rocks of
more recent origin (Mesozoic 1) are met with in the north-western
border ridge and on its slopes, as wpII as on the Vitim plateau.
Daring the Glacial period the fauna of the lowest parts of Trans-
baikaJJa was decidedly arctic; while during tho Lacustrine or
Post-Glacial period it was covered with numberless lakes, the
1 Steamer* have asccniJod the lower Selenga and the Uda op lo Verkncudinsk.
9 According to itie leTelling made In 1875-76 from Zvermogolovsk, in Oren-
burg, to Lake Bmkal Tlure Ih unceftaloty as to tbe Bl)inlule altitude, that of
ZfcrtDogoloTsk. 3IS feet. Iiaviag stlU to be verified See Mem. Rust Qeogr Soc :
Phyi. Oeoffr , »ol xv,, I68i
> I. Tchersky, " KeoDlu of the Exploration of Lake Baikal," In Jttfm. ttusi.
Ofogr. Soc. . Fhyt Qeogr. ^ vol xv . 1886, with a gcolofflcal map on a scale of 7
miles to an inch; Fr. Schmldfa report In the yearly Rfport of the RuMlan Geo-
graphical S«ciety for 1866 (both RussIod).
shores of which were inhabited by NefcUthicman. Only few trace*
of these have remained, and they are rapidly drying up. Earth-
quakes are very frequent on the shores of Lake Baikal, especially
at the mouth ot the Selenga, extending as far as Irkutsk, Barguzin,
and Selenghinsk ; in 1862 an extensive area was submerged by "thO'
lake. Numerous mineral springs, some of them of high repute,
are spread all over Transbaikalia, '^lie chief of them are the hot
alkaline springs (130* F.) at Turka, at the mouth of the Barguzin,
whitber hnndredp of patients resort annually, those of Pogromna
on the Uda (very similar to the Seltzer springs), those of-Motokova
near Tchita, and those of Darasun in the Nertchinsk district (very
rich in carbonic aoid and phosphate of iroti).
Tho flora and fauna of Transbaikalia, iwing to their intermedial*
character between a purely Siberian flora and fauna and those
characteristic of the Mongolian and Manchurian regions, have been
the subject of many careful investigations since the time of Pallaa
down to those of Turczaninoff, Middendorff, Schrenck. Radde, and
Polyakoff. Their various characters in dilterent parts of this ex^
tensive territory could not be described without entering too largely
into details. The reailer may consult the works of the author*
just named (see vol. xxii. p. 12).
The climate is, as a whole, exceedingly dry and extrema Tb»
winter ia cold and dry ; snow is so trifling that the horses of the
Buriats find their -food throughout the winter on the steppes, and
in the very nriddle of the winter wheeled vehicles are'Xised all over
the west. To the east of the Yablonovoi ridge the Nertchinsk
district feels the influence of the North Pacific monsoon region,
and snow falls more thickly, especially in the valleys, but the
summer continues to be hot and dry. On the high plateau, even
the summer is cold, owing to the altitude and the humidity arising
from the marshes, and the soil is frozen to a great depth. lu the
vicinity of Lake Baikal the raoderaring influence of the great
water-basin is felt to some extent, and there is a cooler summei*;
in winter exceedingly deep snow covera the goitsya and valleys of
the mountains around the lake.*
The population (497,760 in 18S2) is exceedingly sparse, urdess
the immense uninhabitable spaces of tbe plateaus be left ovit of
account. Even on the lower terrace nearly the whole of the ngion
on the left bank of the Shilka is unsuited for apiculture, as also
are the Gazimur Mountains, where only a few settlers gain a liveli-
hood in some of the valleys, struggling against aa unhealthy
climate and the influence of goitre. The Russian population there
gathers around tlie crown minis of the Nertchinsk district, while
the steppes are occupied by Buriats. A succession of villages,
supported partly by agriculture and partly by hunting and trade
with Mongolia, are settled along the Shilka between Tchita and
Sryetensk, while farther down tbe river flows in such a wild
mountain region that only a few families are settled, at distances
some 20 miles apart, to maintain communication. The same is true
with regard to the lower Argun. The valleys of the Uda, tbe lower
Selenga, and especially the Tchikoi and the Khitok have been
occupied since the b§ginning of the century by Raskolniks, who
have received the name of Se'ineisknye on account of their large
(compound) families, and there one finds, in a condition of pros pfenty
such as is unkno^vn in Russia proper, some of the finest represi;n>
tatives of the Russian race. The remainder of the step pe of iho
Uda is occupied by Buriats, while the forests and raarsben of (he
plateau are the hunting grounds of the nomad Tunguses. Otly
the valley of the Djida in the south of the Khamar-daban is settled
in it3 lower parts.
The Russians of Transbaikalia present a great variety of ethno>
logical types. Mainly owing to the difficulties of communication^
many Great Russian Raskolniks and Little Russian settlers h.ii'e
preserved their ethnographical features puie from any admixtuie ;
while there are. on the other hand, villages in the Nertchinsk
district, chiefly composed of the earliest Russian settlers, wberi! a
great admixture of Tungusian or Mongolian blood is obseivahlo.
On the upper Argufi the Cossacks are in features, character, I.in
guago, and manners largely Mongolian. The Russians along the
Chinese frontier constitute a separate voisko of the Transbaikalian
Cossacks. There is great uncertainty as to the numbers of the-
Buriats ; they are estimated at about 150,000. The Tunguses num-'
Iwr only a very few thousands. I
Agriculture is carried on to a limited extent by the Buriats and ia^
all Russian settlements; but it prospers only in the valleys of west
Transbaikalia, and partly in the Nertchinsk region, while in thu
steppes of the Arguft and Onon even the Russians resort chiefly to
cattle-breeding and trade, or to hunting. On the whole, corn has
to be imported ; summer wheat and summer r^^, oats, and barley
are the chief crops in the east, .winter rye not bemg sown in con-
sequence of the want of enow. Cattle-Tearing is extensively carried
on, especially by tho Buriats, but their herds and flocks, which
wander freely over the eteppes throughout the winter, are oftei*
destroyed in great numbers by the *inow storms of spring. Hunt- ',
ing is an important occupation, even with the Russians, many ot t
« "DusIOlmavoD OBt-Slbineo," by A. Woyelkoff, \q Meteor ZetUctt., 1684.
T R A-^T R A
ill
I whom leave their homes in Octclvr to spend six wwka in the taiga
(forest-region). The fisheries of Lake Baikd and the lower parts
of its atilaeutfi tre impjitaat. Enormous quantities of Salnw
omui aro taken erery year; and, although the curing is most
primitive, the annual yield is valued at £20,000. The Salmo
s thymaiii3t S. oxt/ThyitckiLS^ and S. Jluviatilis are also taken
largely.
The possibilities of discoveries of gold are absorbing all the
lodustrml forces of Transbaikalia. GolJ-diggioga occur chiefly in
the basins of the Shilka and the upper Vitiru, also on the Tcbikoi
and the Khilok. No less than 25^400 lb is extracted anuually by
private enterprise, and about 3200 lb by the- crown, at the Kara
gold-diggings, where nearly 1400 convicts are employed. The
silver miuing formerly carried on at several crown works is now
on the decrease (see Ne&tchinsk); the quantity extracted in 1884
was only 241 tb. Evtry kind of man u lac tu red wjre has to be
imported from Russia; and even petty trades are almost unknown
iu the villages.
The trade of the province is chiefly represented by that of
Eiakbta The Cossacks on the frontier carry on some trade in
brick-tea, cattle, and hides with Mongolia. The export of furs is
of considerable value.
The communications of Transbaikalia are limited to the great
Amur highway, which fringes the south coast of Lake Baikal and
passes through Verkhnendiusk, Tchita,aod Nertchinsk toSryetensk,
whence steamers ply down to the mouth of the Amur; in wiuter,
further communication with the Amur lieyond Sr)'etenpk is main-
taioed on sledges on the ice of the Shilka, but in the autunin and
spring a horseback journey as far as Kumara is the only possible
method of reaching the middle Amur. Steamer communication is
also maintained for six or seven months across Lake Baikal, from
Posolskoye, at the mouth of the Selenga, to Listvenichnaya, 4U miles
from Irkutsk. A highway connects Verkhnendiosk with Seleng-
hinsk and Eiakhta, and communication on the steppes of the ArguA
and the Onon as well asnp the Barguzin is easy. The rest of Trans-
baikalia can be visited only on horseback.
Transbaikalia is divided into 5ve districts, the chief towns of
which (with populations in 1880) are Tchita, capital of the province
(12,600 inhabiUnts), Barguzin (800), Nertchinsk (4070), Seleng-
binsk (U60), and Veikhneudinsk (4150). Kiakhta has 4290
inhabitants, and Sryetensk, being at the head of the navigation, is
a rising town. ^P. A. K.)
See vol TRANSCASPIAN REGION (Zakasmt/ska^a Oblast),
TY^'V* ^° extensive territory to the east of the Caspian, annexed
by Russia within the last fifteen years, is bounded on the
S. by the highJands of Khorasan and Afghanistan, on the
N. by Uralak (from which it is divided by a line drawn
from the Mortvyi Kuttuk Bay of the Caspian to the south
extremity of Lake Aral), on the N.E. by Khiva and
Bokhara, and on the S.E. (where it penetrates towards
Herat on the elopes of the Paropamisus, and includes the
Badhyz plateau) by Afghan Turkestan. So defined, it has
an area of 220,000 square mile.s.
Although nine-tenths of this territory consists of unin-
habitable desert, an interest attaches to it on account of
the great physical changes it has undergone during the
PostrOIacial period. Since Pallas visited its borders, and
still more since Humboldt discussed its history, it has
never ceased to attract the attention of geographers. In
fact, .some of the most interesting problems of geography,
8uch as those relating to the changes in the course of the
Jaxartes and the Oxus, the bifurcation and the oscillation
of a great river, and the supposed periodical disappearance
of Lake Aral, are connected with the Trauscaspian deserts ;
and it is here that we must look for a clue to the great
physical changes which transformed the Mediterranean of
Western Asia— the Aral-Caspian and Pontic basin — into a
series of separate seas, and desiccated them, powerfully
influencing the distribution of floras and faunas, and com-
pelling the inhabitants of Western and Central Asia to
enter upon their great migrations. But down to a very
recent date the dry and barren deserts, peopled only by
wandering Turcoman bands, remained almost a iei^a xTicog-
nitay and only now are we beginning to make the very
first steps towards their really scientific exploration.
A moutitain chain, in length comparable to the AJps, separates
the deserts of the Transcaspian from the highlands of Khorasan.
It runs Irom uorth*west to south-east, and appears as a continua-^
inn of the Cuucasus. It begins iu the Krasnodovsk peninsula of
the Caspian, under the names of Kuryanin-kara anti Great Balkans,
whose masses of granite and other crystalline rock reach a height
of more than 5000 feet. Farther to the south-east these are con-
tinued in the much lower Little Balkans and Kyuren-dagh (200O
teccj, the Kopepet-dagh, Kosty-dagh, Asilma, and Zaryn-kul, — ther
name of Kopepet-dagh or Kopet-dagli being often now used tO'
designate the whole chain which rises steep and wild above the flat
deserts from the Caspia.n to the river Murghab, — a stretch of 600
miles. In structure it is homologous with the Caucasus chain ; it
appears as an outer wall of the Khorasan plateau, and is separated
from it by a broad valley, which, like the Rion and Kura valley,
of Transcaucasia, is watered by two nvera flowing in opposite
directions, — the A trek, which flows north-west into the Caspian^ .
and the Keshefrud, which flows to the sonth-east, and is a tribu- ;
tary of the Murghab. On the other side of this valley the Allah-
dag h and the Binalund border-ridges (9000 to 11,000 feet) fringe
tlie edge of the Khorasan plateau. At its south-eastern extremity
this outer wall loses its regularity where it meets with the spurs
of the Hindu-kush. Descending towards the steppe with steep^
stony slopes, it rises to heights of 6000 and 9000 feet to the
east of Kizil-arvat, while the passes which lead from the Turcor'
man deserts to the valleys of Khorasan are seldom as low as 3500,
usually rising to 5000, 6000, and even SCOO feet, and in most
cases being very difliCult. This wail is pierced by but ene wide
opening, that between the Great and Little Balkans, through
which the sea which once covered the steppe maintained-connesioa
with the Caspian.
While the Allahdagh and BinMuud border-ridges are chiefly
composed of crystalline rocks and metamorphic slates covered with
Devonian deposits, a series of more recent formations — Upper and
Lower Cretaceous, and Miocene — are shown in the outer wall of the
Kopet-dagh. Here again we find that the mountains of Asia which
stretch towards the north-west continued to be uplifted at a
geologically recent epoch. Quaternary deposits have an extensive
development on its slopes, and its hiUfoots are bordered by &
girdle of loess.
The loess terrace, called *'Atok" ("mountain base")i is but
narrow, ranging in width from 10 to 20 miles ; still its chain of
settlements have rendered it possible to lay down a railway which
now connects the Caspian with Sarakhs. It is very fertile, but
could produce nothing without irrigation, and the streams flowing
from the Kopet-dagh are few and meagre. The winds which reach
the northern slope of the mouotaius have been deprived of all
their moisture in crossing the Kara-kum— the Black Sands of the
Turcoman desert ; and even such rain as tails on the Kopet-dagh
(10^ inches at KLzil-arvat) too often reaches the soil in the shape
of showers which do not saturate ft, so that the average relative
humidity is but 56 and the average nebulosity only 3"9, as against
62 and 41 at even so dry a place as Krasnovodsk StiJl, at those
places where the mountain streams are closer to one another, as at
Geok-tepe, Askabad, Lutfabad, and Kabka, the villages are more
populous, and the houses arc surrounded by gardens, every square
yard and every tree of which is fed by irrigation.
Beyond this narrow strip of irrigated land begins the desert, —
the Kara-kum, — which extends from the mountains of Khorasan
to Lake Aral and the Ust-Urt, and from the Caspian to the Amo^
interrupted only by the oases of Merv and TejeS. It appears, how-
ever, that the terrible shifting sands blown into barkhxms, o?
elongated hills, sometimes 50 and 60 feet in height, are grouped
chiefly in the west, where the country has more recently emerged
from the sea. Farther to the east the barkkans are more stable,
their slopes being covered with bushes (for the most part leafless);
the caravans sometimes follow their crests, and the shifting sands
occupy restricted spaces. Large areas amidst the sands are occupied
by Uik-yrs, or flat surfaces covered with clay which is ..ard as a rule,
but becomes almost impassable after heavy rains. In these ia^yri
the Turcomans dig ditches, draining into a kind of cistern — the
kak — where the water of the spring rains keeps for a few mouths.
Wells are sunk also along the routes of the caravans, and water
is found in them at depths of 10 to 50 or occasionally 100 feet and
more. All. is not desert in the strict sense ; in spring there is foe
the most part a covering of grass, which allows of journeys across
the desert There are footpaths in several directions, especially
from the irrigated and cultivated Atok towards Khiva.
The vegetation of the Kara-kum cannot be described as poor;
the typical representative of the sand deserts of Asia, the saksaul
(Anabasis Ainmodcndron), has been almost destroyed within the
last hundred years, and never appears in forests, but the borders
of the spaces covered with salted clay are brightened by forests of
tamarisk, wliich are inhabited by great numbers of the desert
warbler {Atraphoniis uralcnsis) — a typical inhabitant of the
sands, — sparrows, aud ground-choughs (Podoccs); the Houbara
mncqiicnnii. Gray, though not frequent, is characteristic of the
region. Hares and foxes, j;\cUa]s niul wolves, marmots, moles,
hedgehogs, aud one species of marten live in the steppe, especially
in spring. As a whole, the fauna is richer than nnght be sup*
posed, while in the Atok it contains representatives of all thff
r>i2
TRAKSCASPIAN REGION
species known in Turkestan, inixcil uith Tcrsian and Himalayan |
Fpecies *
The Uzboi. — A feature ilistinclivo of the Turcoman desert is seen
, in the very numerous shurs^ or elongated depressions, the lower .
iwrtioni' of which are occupied mostly with sand impregnated with
brackish water. They are obviously the remains of brackish lakes,
and, like the lakes of the Kirghiz steppes, they often, follow one
another in close succession, thus closely resembliug river-beds.
As the directioQ of these shors is generally from the higher terraces
wauTed by the Amu-Dari towards the lowlands of the Caspian,
thry Wire usually regardtJ us old beds of the Amu-Daria, aud were
held to support the idea of its once having flowed across the Turco-
riKiu depart towards what is now the Caspian Sea. A few years
ago it se«med almost settled, not only that that river (see Oxus)
(lowed jnto the Caspian during histoiical times, but that, after
having ceased to do so in the 7th century, its waters were again
diverted to the Caspian about 1221. A succession of elongated
depressions, having a faint resemblance to old river-beds, was
traced from Urgenj to the gap between the Great and the Little
Balkans, marked on the maps as the Uzboi, or old bed of the
Oxus.^ The idea of again diverting' the Amu into the Caspian
was thus set afloat, and expeditions were sent out for explora-
tions with this view. The result of these investigations by Russian
engineers, especially Hedroitz, Ronshin, MushketoflT. Lessar, and
Svintsofi','* was, however, to show Ihat the Uzboi is no river-bed
at all, aud tliat no riper has ever discharged its waters in that
direction. The existence of an extensive lacustrine depression, where
the small Sary-kamysh lakes are now the only remains of a wide
basin, was proved, and it became evident that this depression, having
a length of more than 130 miles, a width of 70 miles, and a depth
of 280 feet below the present level of Lake Aral, would have to be^
filled by thoAmu, before its waters could advance farther to the
south-west. The -sill of this basin being only 28 feet below the
present level of Lake Aral, this latter couM not bo made to dis-
appear, . or even be Tiotably reduced in size by the Amu flowing
from Urgenj to the south-west. A more careful exploration of the
Uzboi has shown moreover that, while the deposits in the Sary-
kamysh depression, and the Aral shells they contain, bear nnmia-
takablc testimony as to the fact of the basin having">once been fed
by the Amu-Daria, no such traces are found along tne Uzboi below
the Sary-kamysh depression;* on the contrary, shells of molluscs,
still inhabiting the Caspian are found in numbers all along it, aud
the supposed old bed has all the characters of a series of lakes which
continued to subsist at the hiUfoots of the U.st-Urt plateau, while
the Caspian was slowly receding westwards during the Post-Pliocene
period. On rare occasions only did the waters of the Sary-kamysh,
when raised by inundations above the sill just mentioned, send
their surplus into the Uzboi. It appears most probable that in the
16th century the Sary-kamy.sh was confounded with a gulf of the
Caspian;* and this gives much plausibility to Konshin's supposi-
I tion that the changes in the lower course of the Amu {which no
geologist would venture to ascribe to man, if they were to mean
the alternative discharge of the Amu into the Caspian and Lake
Aral) merely meant that by means of a^-propriate dams the Amu
wa= made to flow, in the 13th,. 14th, 15th, and 16th centuries,
aUcr:i;itcly into Lake Aral and into the Sary-kamysh.
As for the ancient texts with regard to the Jaxartes and Oxus,
it bc'-omes more and more probable that their interpretation, if
possible at all, is only so when it is admitted that, since the epoch
to wliich these relate, the outlines of the Caspian Sea arid Lake
Aral Lave undergone notable changes, commensurate with those
which are supposed to have occurred in the courses of the Central
Asian livers. The desiccation of the Aral-Caspian basin proceeded
with such rapidity that the shores of the Caspian could not possibly
maintain for some twenty centuries the outlines which they have
at present. When studied in detail, the general configuration of
the Transcaspiau region leaves no doubt that both the Jaxartes
and the Oxus, with its former tributaries, the Murghab and the
Tejefi, once flowed towards the west; but the Caspian of that time
I * Sec N Zaiudnyi, "Lea Oiseaux de la Contr^e Transcaspienne," in Bull.
Sot. All A/o^c. 1885.
9 It Is to be observed Ihat on the oiiclnal Russian map of tlic Tr.insca'«pinn,
drawn Immediately alter the smvcy o( ihc Uzboi had been completed, ihc Uzboi
lia<* not the continuity which Is civi;n to it on subsifiuout mnps.
3 Thth oripiniil papci.1 are punted in tlic /rr^'dn of ilic lliissian Gcogr Soc.,
1883 to 1887, as also In the Journal of llic Ilubbi^in Minl^tiy of Roads aod Com-
Biunicatkons
* Accoidmp to A. E. Iltdroltt and A. M. Konshin the old Tonu-Dnrla bed of
fhe Amu contains shells of molhiscs now hvlnj; in (lie Amu {Cyrena fluminatti,
Drttttfna polymorphu, tmd Anodouta) The Sdry-kamysh baatn is eharnctei Ized
by dvpDslts contnmtng /^cn.'inti hturatu, Dreitieua potvmorpha, and Lymuxus,
characlfilsilc of thl^ basin iJflort Ilic Sacy-kamysh there arc no moie deposits
conUiinlnc shells cliarancilstic ('.r the Amif; Anodont-v are found quite occasion-
ally on the BuifdCt. not in bt;>K In company with the Ctisi'lan Cardium {Oidaena)
trigonoidtn var rras^'um, C^'dtutn piramidatum, fh-fiisena po/ymorpha, D.
roilrtformii, Hyilrobia fOipid. Stnlina liturata, anil />rfi,t.scna brardii ; the
rei claya with t\xi-^(i foB«i1s extend for 130 miles to itie cast of the Caspian
llitfttia of Rusa. Gcog. Soc. 1863 and \»66).
* As by .Icnkinson, who menllona a SMcut-w^ter rqU of the Caspian within six
diiys' mavcli from Khwarezni, by which gulf he coDld mean noi lilpg but the Sary-
fcaoiyah depression.
was not the sea of our days ; its gulfa penetrated the Turcomai*
step[ie, and washed the base of the Ust-Urt plateau, as is showo
by the deposits of its shells described by the Kusbian engineers.
Kdif -Uzboi. — There is also no doubt that, instead of flowing
north-westward of Kelif, the Amu once flowed to join the Murghab
and Tejeft ; the succession of depressions described by the Russian
engineers as the Kelif-Uzboi® supports this hypothesis, which a
geographer cajinot avoid making when studying a map oi the
Transcaspian region ; but the date at which the Oxus followed
such a course, and tlie extension which the Caspian basin then had
towards the east, remain unsettled. Much, however, has still to
be done before we ca:u fully reconstruct the geological history of
that region since the Pliocene epoch, or show how far the data of
Pliny, Strabo, and Ptolemy were descriptions of actual facts '
Population. — With the exception of some 35,000 Kirghiz en-
camped with their herds on the Ust-Urt plateau (a swelling some
600 to 1000 feet in height and nearly 92,000 square miles in extent,
which, owing to ita dryness and cold winter, can be inhabited only
by nomad cattle-breeders) and a few Persians in the Lutfabad and
Sbilghyan villages of the Atok, the whole of the population of the
Transcaspian region consists of Turcomans, Until a very recent
date their chief occupation was cattle-rearing and robbery. Even
those Turcomans who had settled abodea on the oases of the Atok,
TejeB, and Merv were in the habit of encamping during spring in
the steppes, and there practising robbery. Robber bands were
easily formed, and on their powerful horses they extended their
excursions to distancesof 200 and 3^0 miles from their abodes. They
infested the Abtrabad province ; and the villages of the khanatca
of Afghan Turkestan, from Balkh to Meshbeo, were periodically
devastated by them. The aspect of the steppe has, however,
greatly changed since the Rasaian advance, the fall of the Turco-
man stronghold of G«)k-tepe, and the massacres which ensued ;
the Persians are already beginning to avenge themselves on the
inhabitants of the Atok by disputing with them the supplies of
water coming from the Kopet^dagh.
The chief oasis of the Turcoman desert is the Atok, which
extends along the base of the Kopet-daeh, and is now traversed
by the Transcaspian railway. The AkhflJ and the Arakadj oases,
collectively called Atok, now have a populatiou of about 42,000
Tekke-Turcoraans, who have recently settled there, and live for the
most part in miserable clay huts or in felt tents (Hbitkas). They
raise wheat, barley, aud lucerne ; and the Pereians have excellent
gardens. Some cotton is also gro*n, and- the culture of the silk-
worm is beginning to spread. The chief settlements are Askabad,
Kizil-arvat, and Geok-tepe.
The oasis of Merv {q.v.) is inhabited by Akhal-tekkes (about
160,000). mostly poor. In January 1887 they submitted to Russia.
The oasis of Tejeft has recently spmng up where the river Tejefi
(Heri-rud) terminates in the desert. Formerly it was only tem-
porarily visited by the Tekkes'who came to cultivate the fields in
summer. In 1883 it was estimated to have 7500 inhabitants.
South- West Turcovuinia. — The region between the Heri-rud and
the Murghab, as they issue from the highlands, described in English
maps under the name of Badhyz, andby the Russians as South- West
Turcomania, has of late attracted a good deal of attention since the
Russian octupationof Sarakhs on theTeje& (see Afghanistan and
Persia) and Penjdeh on the Murghab. It has the characters of a
plateau reaching about 2000 feet above the sea, with hills 600 and
600 feet high covered with sand, tlie spaces between being filled
with loess. The Borkhnt Mountains which connect the Kopet-dagh
with the Sefid-kuh, reach 3000 to 4000 feet, and are crossed in a gorge
by the Heri-rud. Thickets of poplar aod willow follow the courses
of both theMurghab and Heri-rud, and the treesreach a considerable
size. Pistachio and mulberry trees grow in isolated groups on the
hills ; but there are few places available for culture, and the Saryks
(some 60,000 in dumber) congregate in only two oases at Yot-otan
and Penjdeh. Cattle-breeding is their chief occupation, and enables
them to live in a certain degree of aflluence. Brigandage, formerly
a notable source of income, is now being suppressed. The Sarakhs
oasis is now occupied by the Salore, hereditary enemies of the
Tekkes, who number about 3000 tents at Old* Sqrakhs, and 1700
more on theMurghpb, at Tchardjui, at Maimene, ana close to Herat.
Great modifications in the life of the steppe have of course been
brought about by the Russian conquest, which was followed with
• In connexion with this southern "old bed," It Is worthy of notice that the
Ersail-Turcomans call It UnRhynz or OnRuz C" diy old bed "), and there can be
no douM that when the Bolsliol Tcheitezh of the I6th century (speaking from
anterior information) mcnilons a liver. Ugtiyuz ov Upus, flowing to the west from
the Amu toward-i the Caspian, li is meiely describing as a ilvcr what Its very
naiTie shows to liavc been a Ory bed, only suppfiSfd to have been onco occupied
by a li^ci The ^l^litality of the names Onuua and Ugus with the Ogus and
Oihu^ IS so stnkiPC tliat one is Inclined to see in the Ogus Oi Ochns nothing but j
the mention of a drv oM bed. Compare Petvusevlich. "The South Eust Shores j
of Ihc Casi'ian," in /^apiikiol the Caucasian Geom. Soc, ^ol. xl , 1880. f
7 Siicimn intcimlnghne of modem data with older Imditions is not tmKnnwn"
to pcocraphers. A siriklnp instance of It U given In the supposcu enniicxion of
Luke Aial wl'h the ArttiC Ocean duiing histoiical times ; physical change* oiO
proLCcdinc so rapidly In Asia that we find tracea of like survivals of tradUioM
even In this ai;e of accurate surveys.
T R A — T R A
513
?«-e vol.
XX i.
Piates
II., III.
great rapidity by the constrnction of a railway from Mikbailovsk
on the Caspian to Kizil-arrat and Sarakhs, and thence to Merv and
north-eastward to Tchardjoi on the. Anm. from which point it is
now being continued across Bokhara towards Samarkand. Attempts
at growing; cotton and tea are being made, and land has been
rented at ilerv for cotton plantations. Cotton is to be pressed by
€team at Bokhara and Tchardjoi, to be sent to Russia by the Trans-
Caspian railway.'
Caspian Littoral. — The Caspian littoral is divided into two
districts, Erasnovodsk and Manghishiak. The former has about
15,500 settled inhabitants and 3056 Turcoman kibitkas (partly
shifted in summer to Persian territory). The chief settlements
of the district are Krasnovpdsk on the Erasnovodsk Gulf;
Mikbailovsk, the tenninosof the Transcaspian railway, in regular
communication by steamer with Baku ; and Tchikishfyar, close to
the mouth of the Atrek. The Manghishiak district, which includes
the Ust-Urt plateau, has a population of about 3i,500 Kirghiz.
Its chief settlement is Alexandrovsk.
The total population of the Transcaspian region was estimated
in 1883— that is, before the annexations in South- West Turcomania
—at from 214,000 to 260,000 inhabiUnts (P. A. K.)
TRANSCAUCASIA, the name given to that portion of
the Russian empire (in Caucasus, Armenia, and Asia
Minor) which lies to the south of the main Caucasus ridge.
It comprises the governments of Kutais (inclusive of the
province of Batum), Tiflis, Elisabethpol, Erivaii, and Kars,
with parts of Daghestan and most of Baku, and the
S' parate military districts of Tchernomorsk and Zakataty.
&i)metimes Transcaucasia is identified with Southern
Ciucasus, and then it is intended to include the whole of
Daghestan. So defined, it would have an area of 95,930
square miles, and a population of 4,173,380.
Three regions must be distinguished : — (1) the narrow
strip of land between the main Caucasus ridge and the
Black Sea (Tchernomorsk district, q.v.) ; (2) the broad
valley, watered by the Rion in the west and the Kura in
the east, which separates the main Caucasus ridge from
the region next to be mentioned ; (3) the highlands,
mountains, and plateaus of Lazistan, Kars, and Armenia.
The valley referred to, which crosses the isthmus from
the Black Sea to the Caspian, consists of two widely
different sections. — the drainage-area of the Rion, which is
Mediterranean in its physical characteristics, and the valley
of the Kura and Araxes, which slopes to the Caspian,
and in its lower parts becomes purely cis-Caspian. The
Mesques or Meshik Mountains (3000-5000 feet), a ridge
running south-west to north-east, and probably a con-
tinuation of the Black Sea coast ridge (Tchorokh Moun-
tains), separate the two. The drainage area of the Rion,
which corresponds approximately to the government of
Kutais, includes the former provinces of Imeritia, Min-
grelia, Curia, and Swanetia on the upper Ingur and Tshenis-
tsbali. With the exception of the valley of the Rion
(some 25 miles broad), and the sandy and marshy littoral,
it is wholly occupied by spurs of the main Caucasus ridge,
the Meshik, and the Wakhan Mountains; the last-named rise
to 10,000 and 1 1,000 feet above the sea in their highest
summits, and are intersected by deep and fertile valleys.
The region is characterized by a heavy rainfall and a moist
maritime climate. The vegetation, which is lux-.iriaut, is
of a oircum-Meditenanean character : fine forests of de-
ciduous trees clothe the mountain slopes, and the high-
land villages nestle amid thickets of azalea, almond, and
rhododendron. Maize, the mulberry, the vine, and a great
variety of fruit trees are cultivated. Mingrelia and
Imeritia are the real gardens of Caucasus ; but the Ligii
valhjys tributary to the Ingur, inhabited by Swanians, are
wild and difEcult of access ; in some of thern, which arc
narrow and marshy, fevers and scurvy prevail. The Rion
is not navigable, and of its tributaries only the Tshenis-
1 No Russian sea shows so rapid a growth of navig.ition as the Caspian
Sea Jurin? the last liiteeu years. In 18S4 uo less tban 1945 steamers
(611, OOf^ tons), engaged in foreign trade, entered the Russian ports of
the ijaspiau, ia against 409 (113,000 tons) in 1876.
tshali and tlie Kvirila are worttiy of mention. Several
lakes (such as the Paleostom, surrounded by marshes at the
mouth of the Rion) occur in the coast region. The popu-
lation consists of Imeritians, Mingrelians, Gurians, and
Swanians, all belongio-g to the Kartvelian branch of
Caucasians (see voL x. p. 433), with a few Ossetians, Jews,
Armenians, and Tartars. Russians are not numerous.
The pass of Suram, by which the Transcaucasian railway now
crosses the llesqucs Mountains, leads from the valley of tho Rion
to that of the Kura. Spurs from the Caucasus and the Anti-
caucasua fill up the broad lougitudinal depression between these,'
so that above Tiflis the bottom of the valley is but a narrow strip-
But below that city it suddenly widens, i(nd stretches for nearly
350 miles eastward towards the Caspian with a steadily increasing
breadth, until it becomes nearly 100 miles wide in the steppe of
Magail on the Caspian littoral. The snow-clad peaks of the main
Caucasus, descending by short steep slopes, fringe the valley on
the north-east ; while a huge wall, much lower, and having the
characters of a border-ridge of the Armenian plateau, bounds the
valley on the south-west.^ The floor of the valley gently slopes
from 1200 feet at Tiflis to 500 feet in its middle, and to 85 feet below
the level of the ocean on the Caspian shore ; but a plateau ranging
fifim 2000 to 3000 feet in height, very fertile along the Atazah, a
left-hand tributary of the Kura, stretches along the southern hill-
foots of the main ridge. In its lower course the Kura is joined by
the Araxes, a river nearly as large as itself, which brings to it the
waters of the Armenian plateau.
The highest mo-r, ains of the Caucasus enclose the upper parts
of the valley (now the government pf Tiflis). An unbroken series
of peaks, from 10,000 to 12,600 feet in height, mostly snow-clad
and separated by but slight depressions, is seen in profile as one
looks from some height of the Ajiticaucasus towards the main chain
and the broad valley of the Kura. Deep short gorges and valleys
indent the steep slopes which are inhabited by Ossetians, Tushes,
Pshavs, and Khevsurs in the west, and by the various tribes of the
Lesghians in the east. Every available patch is used in these high
and stony valleys for the culture of barley, even at heights of 7000
and 8000 feet above the sea ; but cattle-breeding is the chief
resource of the mountaineers, whose little communities are separated
from one another by passes in few cases lower than 10,000 feet.
The steppes which cover the bottom of the valley are for the most
part too dry to be cultivated without irrigation. It is only nearer
the hillfoots in Kahetia, where multitndinous streams supply the
fields and the gardens of the plateau of the Atazan, tbat wheat,
millet, and maize are grown, and orchards, vineyards, and mulberry-
tree plantations are possible. Lower down the valley cattle-rearing
becomes the chief -source of wealth, while in the small towns and
villages of the former Georgian kingdom (see Georgia) various
petty trades, testifying to a high development of artistic taste and
technical skill, are widely difl^uscd. Further down the Kura, in the
government of Elizabethpol, and especially on the right bank of the
river, a population of Russian agriculturists — chiefly Nonconformists
— is rapidly springing up, so that com is exported from the villages
on the Ganja. The slopes of the Anticaucasus are covered with
beautiful forests, and the vine is grown at their base, while in the
broad and wide steppes the Tartars rear cattle, horses, and sheep.
The lower p:irt of the Kura valley, which belongs mainly to the
province of Baku, assumes the character of a dry steppe where the
rainfall hardly reaches 137 inches at Baku, and is still less in the
Mugah steppe (in most striking contrast with the moistness of the
Lenkoran region close by). The steep slopes of the Great Caucasus
are still covered with thriving forests ; but forests and meadows dis-
appear in the steppe, whose scanty vegetation lias a Central-Asian
character. Only tugais, or thickets of popla^, dwarf oak, tama-
risk, and so on, follow the actual course of the Kuru, whose delta is
covered with impenetrable growths of rushes. The Mugan steppe,
however, does not deserve it& ancient evil reputation , the serpents
with which it was said to abound are entirely fabulous, and in the
winter it is full of life; herds of antelopes roam over it, and itit
southern irrigated parts promise to become the granary of Caucasus,"
although its unirrigated parts will piobably never recover then*
former richness, the Kura haviog'excavated its bed to a much greatei
depth- The Apsheron peninsula, in which the Greait Caucasus
terminates at Baku, to be continued farther south-east by a sub-
Tiiarino plateau of the Caspian, is the seat of those remarkable
n.^plitlia si'riDgs which have recently given rise to an important
iiuiii.stry and now supply most of the Volga steamers witn fuel;
while tile western shores of the wide Kizil-agatch Bay — the Tatysb,
or Lenkoran district on the slopes of the Armenian plateau — on
account of theirrich vegetation, fertile soil, and moist climate, are
one of the most beantiful possessions of Russia in Asia-
^ For this valley and the contrasts between the Caucasus and Anti-
caucasus, see Radde s Omis Cancasica, C.assel, 1884.
■* Seidhtz, Spiski naseieitvykh mytst Bakit^koi gubemii.
xxm. — 6s
"51^
TRANSCAUCASIA
The popnlation includes only a few Hasstans (sbont 16,000) ; the
majority are Tartar shepherds, next to whom come the Iranian
Tates and Talyshes (the latter probably aborigines of Baku), "ho
constitute 23 1 percent. «f the popnlation; some 27,000 Armenians,
chiefly about SnHnakha, and 35,000 Kurins, or Lezghians, on the
slope of the Great Caucasus,- must be added, as also some Jews and
Arabs.
oA mining industry of some importance has been growing up of
late in this part of Transcanoasia. The copper works of Kedabek in
Elizabethpol yield from 10,000 to 15,000 cwts. of copper annually;
nearly 300,000 cvrts. of manganese are extracted in Kutais, and
30,000 cwts. of sulphur in Daghestan and Baku ; the coal-mines of
Kutais, the alum ores of Elizabethpol, and the fire-clay and cement
of Tchemomorsk, are but recently opened up.
The highlands of Transcaucasia, which extend from
north-west to south-east for nearly 375 miles, with an
average width of 160 miles, must in their turn be sub-
divided into two sections — the Armenian plateau, including
the provinces of Erivan and Kars and parts of Baku, and
the Black Sea coast-region, including the former province
of Batum (now the Batum and Artvin districts of Kutais).
The former of those is an immense plateau separated by
the valley of the Araxes from the highlands of Adherbaijan
and of Turkish Armenia, which belong to the drainage-areas
of the Euphrates or those of Lakes Van and Urmia. All over
Kars and Erivaii is a series of plateaus ranging in altitude
from 5000 to 6500 feet, sometimes quite flat, sometimes
broadly undulating, covered with rich meadows, and for
the most part available for agriculture. Dome-shaped
mountains, isolated, or grouped into relatively low ridges,
rise from these plateaus to heights which range from 8000
to 9500 feet, and occasionally reach 10,000 or 11,000
above sea-level. Several summits in the east exceed that
ieight, and the Alaghoz reaches 13,436 feet.
/ This plateau region is bounded on the south by the valley of the
JAraxes, the river which forms the frontier with Turkey, except
mhere it is crossed by Russia in the south of Kars and west of
'Erivaii. There the river Hows in a broad valley 4500 feet above
'eea-level, and the Kars plateau falls towards it by a eteej) slope,
while on the other side a steep, rocky ridge of exceedingly wild
aspect rises as the northern border-ricfge.of the South Armenian
(Alashkert) plateau and the water-parting between the Caspian Sea
and the Indian Ocean. This ridge, which includes the AUah-daoh
and Kbsa-dagh (10,720 and 11,260 feet respectively), as also the
Great and Little Ararata (17,100 and 12,990 feet), has no general
name, but is described under the names of Shah-ioly, or Agri-dagh.^
( A number of lakes occur on the plateau, especially along its
northern border-ridge, the chief being that of Goktcha, an extensive
alpine basin (500 square miles 6310 feet above sea-level) sur-
rounded by wild mountains. Most of the depressions of the
plateau bear traces of having been under water during tiie Lacustrine
(Post-Glacial) period. Granites and other- unstratified rocks con-
stitute the nucleus of the Armenian and Kars plateaus. .These are
covered with Azoic slates, and partly with Devonian and Carbonifer-
ous deposits ; Jurassic and Cretaceous are wanting, but the Tertiary
(Eocene and Miocene) are widely spread both in the valley of the
Rion and Kura and in the depressions of the plateau. Rocks of
volcanic origin are widely diffused all over Erivaii : the Alexandropol
plateau, surrounded by extinct volcanoes, is all covered with volcanic
products, which overlie the Tertiary deposits and in turn are covered
\^ith Glacial boulder-clay.
( The Alaghoz, the Ararats, and the peaks around Lake Goktcha
are huge ti'achitic masses surrounded by volcanic rocks. "Iron and
copper ores are widely spread ; alum and rock-salt are obtained,
the latter at Kulpi and NakhichevaiS. Mineral springs are numer-
ous. The region is watered by the upper Araxes — too rapid and
rocky to be navigated — and its tributaries, most of which flow at
the bottoms of deep gorges. The upper Kura waters western Kars.
The climate presents all the varieties which might be expected in
B region of so varied altitudes. While cotton grows in the dry and
hot climate of the valley of the lower Araxes, the winter ia severe
on the plateau, and Alexandropol (5010 feet) has an average
temperature of only 41°-5 (Jan. T2°"8; July, 73°-6). The diflerence
between summer and winter is stHl more striking at ErivaSl (3210
feet), which has in January an average of only B" while that of
August reaches 77''7. On the Kara plateau the winter is still more
•evere. Kaghyzman (4620 feet) and Sary-kamysh (7800 feet) have
the winter temperature of Finland, and the latter place, with an
annual mean the same aa that of Hammerfest (3g° F,), haa frosts of
' W. Massalsky, "Oovemment of Kars," in Iseuiia of Rubs.
Geogr. Soc, vol. xxiiL, 1887.
27° and heats of 99°. Tlie vegetation of the Karsplateail reflects;
these extremes of climate, and, besides the-alpine vegetation of tb*
high yailas (alpine meadow8),.we find there the Anatolian, Arinenian,
and Pontic floras meeting. The popnlation of Erivan consists of
Armenians (54 per cent), Tartars (40 per cent.), some 28,000 Kurds,)
and some 4400 Russians, together with a few Greeks and Jews,j
In localities under 4000 feet cotton and rice are the chief crops.i
oil-yielding plants, the vine, the mulberry, and fruit trees being',
also cultivated. Higher up wheat and barley are grown, while at
altitudes above 6000 and 7000 feet the Tartars and Kurds support
themselves by rearing cattle. Many petty trades are developed in
the towns among the Armeuians, and the trade of Erivaii with.
Persia ami Turkey amounts to about 10,000,000 roubles.
The population of the province of Kars (167,610 in 1883) is very
inixed. In a remote antiquity it was inhabited by Armenians,!
whose capital Ani, Mren with its beautiful ruins of a grand
cathedral, and several other towns now in ruins testify to the
former wealth and populousness of the country. After the fall of
the Armenian empire the Turks occupied the region ; Kurds from'
Kurdistan and Diarbekr invaded tlie alpine pasturages of the
valley of the Araxes ; later on, Kahards, Circassians, Osses, ani
Karapapakhs found refuge there ; and finally, after the last war
the Mohammedans emigrated to Asia Miuor (82,760 in 1878-81),j
while Cliristian Armenians, Greeks, Russian Raskolniks, and some
Yezids took their place. The population consists now of Turks,j
Armenians, Turcomans, Greeks, Kurds, Adherbaijan Tartars,
Gipsies, and Rus^ans. The Kars sanjak, which was one of th&
granaries of Turkey, has lost this reputation ; but the crop*
(chiefly wheat and barley) are now again increasing where the early
frosts do not interfere with agriculture. Cotton is raised in th»
Olty region; and in the valley of the Aiaxes gardening and the|
culture of the silkworm are widely difl'used; while cattle-rearing^
is the chief source of income in the highlands, especially with the
Kurds, who move their felt tents on the yailas to higher levels as-
the summer sun burns up the vegetation. ' ~
The western part of the Transcaucasian highlands com-*,
prises the Batum and Artvin districts, which now belong-
to Kutais. The whole of the region is occupied by alpina
ridges — the Pontic ridge in the west, and those of Arjar
and Arsian in the east, whose highest peaks rise to 10,000
and 11,000 feet, without, however, reaching the limits o£
perpetual snow. The Tchorokh and its tributaries, moun-
tain streams enclosed in deep valleys, water the region j,
the Tchorokh is navigable by small boats for 60 miles.
The coast region enjoys an excellent climate; the average yearly
temperature at Batum is 65° F., that of the coldest montli
(February! being 41°'5, and that of July 76°'5. During the last
four years the thermometer never fell lower than 39° 5 at Qatum.'
The rainfall is excessive (93 "4 inches), and days are recorilctl on
which the amount of rain exceeded 10 inches. The region IiM-
accordingly a very luxuriant and subtropical vegetation, auj c\'i'i»
higher up the hills the villages are litei'ally buried amidst gardens.'
The higher hills have luxuriant meadows. Rice is cultivated ia
the coast region, and millet, barley, tobacco, and a variety of frnit-
trees on higher altitudes. The inhabitants (about 90,000 in 1684)^
are chiefly Georgians, apj>roaching the Gurians most nearly. Tli©
Lazes number about 2000 and the Kurds about 1000. A fi-w
KhemshiUi, or Mohammedan Armenians, have found refuge iu the
gorge of Makrial.
Towns. — The chief towns of Transcaucasia are^ more important
than those of northern Caucasus. TiFLIS (?.«.), with 104,024 in-'
habitantsin U.83, is the capital of Caucasia. KtiTAIS(j.ti.)(]3,000),j
to wliich tradition assigns an age of 4000 or 5000 years, has grown
rapidly of late, owing to its situation at the head of the alluvial
plain of the Rion and the proximity of the Tkvibula coal deposits
and the Kvirila manganese mines. Khoni (4000) and Orpiri are
mere administrative centres of Kutais. Redut-kale (620) has lost
its importance as a seaport, and Poti (3110), at the mouth of the
Rion, has not yet become an important port, notwithstanding efforts
to improve its roadstead and its raijivay connexion with Tiflis and
Baku. The chief Black Sea port of Transcaucasia is Batvm (g.v.),'
which has been diligently fortified of late, and his now a popula-
tion of 12,000. Artvin (5860) and Ardjari are the two other chief
towns of tl;o Batum region. The chief towns of the government of
Tiflis besides its capital are Gori, capital of Georgia (populntioQ
4800), Mtzhet (770) at the junction of the Vladikavkaz highway,
with the Transcaucasian railway, Telav (7020), Dushety (3800);
Zakataty (1080), chief town of a separate military district, and Sig-
nakh (10,340), which are built in the spurs of the main chain ; wliile
Akhattsikh (18,270), on the upper Kura and on the Kars plateau, is
o busy centre for petty trades. The old city of Ahatkatakr (3200) on
tho same plateau is now a Russian fort F.lizabethpol, Nttkha,
and SuDBHA igq.v.) are the principal towns in the province of
£lizabetbpol. Baku ig.v.), the terminus of the Tranecaucasiau.
T R A — T R A
raUway, and in regular stesmer communication with Mikhailovs6
in the Transcaspian region, derives its importance from the naphtha
wells which surround it Shemakha (j.iv) (28,810), and Saliany
(10,170), at the head of the delta of the Kura, and notable for its
fisheries, are the only places of importance in the province of Baku
ERIViiJ (y.p.) (12.450), capital of the province of ErivaB, and the
chief city of the Armenian plateau, is one of the oldest cities of the
country, and, owing to its position, would be much more important
than it is. but for its climate Etchmiadzin. or Vagarshapad (2910),
is the reaJrapital (the Rome) of Armenia, for its antiquities, mon-
astery, library, and printing offices. Nakhitcherah (5390)— the
Naxuaoa of Ptolemy — is another centre of Armenia. The most
populous town of the re^oo, however, is Alesandropol (23,010) or
GcMRi (?. f. ), the chief Russian fortress of Transcaucasia, — the
other towns of Erivai being Ani, or Oni, Novobayazot at Lake
Coktcha, and Ordubad (3600). The long-disputed KaRS (?. i'),
which has now 7340 inhabitants, is the chief town of the new
Russian province of the same name, annexed in 1878. Kaghyzraan
(3700), on the upper Araxes, is but a collection of clay houses sur-
rounded hy rich gardens; Ardahan (1270), "n the upper Kura, and
Olty (530) are the only other towns of Kars worthy of notice as
administrative centres. (P. A. K. )
TRANSIT CIKCLE, or Mekidun Circle, an instru-
meat for observing the time of a star's passing the
meridian, at the same time measuring its angular distance
from the zenith. The idea of having an instrument
(quadrant) 6xed in the plane of the meridian occurred
even to the ancient astronomers, and is mentioned by
Ptolemy, but it was not carried into practice until Tycho
Brahe constructed a large meridian quadrant. This instru-
ment enabled the observer to determine simultaneously
right ascension and declination, but it does not appear to
have been much used for right ascension during the 17th
century, the method of equal altitudes by portable quad-
rants or distance measures with a sextant being preferred
(see Observatory and Time). These methods were, how-
ever, very inconvenient, which induced Roemer (q.v.) to
invent the transit instrument about 1690. It consists of a
horizontal axis in the direction east and west resting on"
firmly fixed supports, and having a telescope fixed at right
angles to it, revolving freely in the plane of the meridian.
At the same time Roemer invented the altitude and azimuth
instrument for measuring vertical and horizontal angles,
and in 1704 he combined a vertical circle with his transit
instrument, so as to determine both coordinates at the
same time. This latter idea was, however, not adopted
elsewhere, although the transit instrument soon carae into
universal use (the first one at Greenwich was mounted in
1721), and the mural quadrant continued till the end of
the century to be employed for determining declinations.
The advantage of using a whole circle, as less liable to
change its figure, and not requiring reversal in order to
observe stars north of the zenith, was then again recog-
nized by Ramsden (q.v.), who also improved the method
of reading off angles by means of a micrometer microscope
as described below.' The making of circles was shortly
afterwards taken up by Trouqhton (g-v.), who in 1806
constructed the first modern transit circle for Mr Groom-
bridge's observatory at Blackheath, but he afterwards
abandoned the idea, and designed the mural circle to take
the place of the mura! quadrant. In the United Kingdom
the transit instrument and mural circle continued till the
middle of the present century to be the principal instru-
ments in observatories, the first transit circle constructed
-there being that at Greenwich (mounted in 1850), but on
the Continent the transit circle superseded them from the
years 1818-19, when two circles by Repsold (q.v.) and by
ReichenbaCH (q.v.) were mounted at Gottingen, and one
by Reichenbach at Konigsberg.' The firm of Repsold
was for a number of years eclipsed by that of Pistor
and Martins in Berlin, who furnished the observatories of
' The most notable exception was the transit instrunietit aftd
vertical circle of the Palkova obser\'atory, specially designed bythe
elder Struvo for fundamental determinations!
Copenhagen, Albany, Leyden, Leipsic, Berlin, Washington,
and Dublin with ficst class instruments, but since the
death of Martins the'Repsolds have again taken the lead,
and have of late years made transit circles for Strasburg,
Bonn, Wilhelmshafen, Williamstown (Massachusetts),
Madison (Wisconsin), ita The observatories of Harvard
College (United States), Cambridge, and Dun Echt have
large qircles by Tronghton and Simms, who also made the
Greenwich circle from the design of Airy.^
We shall describe the principal features of a transit
circle, referring for smaller transit instruments and altazi-
muths to the article Sdrveyino (vol. xxii. p. 719).
In the earliest transit instrument the telescope was not placed
in the middle of the axis, but much ne.Trcr to one end. in order to
prevent the axis from bending under the weight of the telescope.
It IS now always placed in the centre of the axis. The latter
consists of one piece of brass or gun-metal with carefully turned
cylindrical pivots at each end. The centre of the axis is shaped
like a cube, the sides of which form the basis of two cones which
end in cylindrical parts The pivots vest on V-shaped bearings,
either let into the massive stone or brick piers which support the
instrument or attached to metal frameworks bolted on the tops of
the piers In order to relieve the pivots from the weight of the
instrument, which would soon destroy their figure, the cylindrical
fiart of each end of the axis is supported by a hook supplied with
riction rollers, and suspended from a lever supported by the pier
and counterbalanced so as to leave only about 10 pounds pressure
on each bearing. Near each end of the axis is attached a circle or
wheel (generally of 3 or 3J feet diameter) finely divided to 2' or 5'
on a slip of silver let into the face of the circle near the circum-
ference. The graduation is read oflf by means of microscopes,
generally four for each circle at 90*' from each other, as by taking the
mean of the four readings the eccentricity and to a great extent the
accidental errors of graduation are eliminated.' In the earlier instru-
ments by Pistor and Mar- wards they let the piers be
tins the microscopes were tSj made narrower, so that the
fixed in holes drilled ^^ microscopes could be at the
through the pier, but after-
attached to
Transit Circlet
radial arms starting from near the bearings of the axis. This
is preferable, as it allows of the temporary attachment of auxil-
iary microscopes for the purpose of investigating the errors of
fraduation of tho circle, but the plan of the Repsoids and of
imms, to make the piers short and to let the microscopes and
supports of the axis be carried by an iron framework, is better
still, as no part of the circle is exposed to radiation from the pier,
which may cause strain and thereby change the angular distance
between various parts of the circle. Each microscope is furnished
with a micrometer screw, which moves a frame carrying a cross, or
^ This instrument differs in many particulars from others : the
important principfe of symmetry in all the parts (scrupulously
followed in all others) is quite discarded ; there is only one circle ;.
and the instrument cannot be reversed. There is a simUar instrument
at the Cape observatory.
^ On Reichenbuch's circles there were verniers instead of micTO-
scopes, and they were attached to an alidade circle, the immovability
of which was tested by a leveL
516
T R A — T R A
better two close parallel threads of Bpider's web, with which the
disunce of a .i.v.s.on line from the centre of the field can be
mSS"d the drum uf the screw being divided to single seconds of
™fftf'l beine estimated) while the number of revolutions arc
counted by alind of comb, n the field of view. The renodic
errorTof tL screw must be investigated and taken into account
!nd care must be taken that the microscopes are placed and kept
t?suTa dLtance from the circle that one rcvo ul.on will corre-
SBond to Ithe excess or defect (error of run) being determined
f?om tir^e ti time by measuring st'andard intervals of 2 or 6 on
^'^Thrtelescope consistsof two slightly conical lubes screwed to the
«entr^l™b"onh°axis. U-of grS>t imporUncc that .hisconnexjon
should be as firm and the tube as slitf as possible ' as the Unsure
oUhe tube v«ll affect the declinations deduced (ro... the obse. utiuns.
The Veiure in the horizontal position of the tube inay be deter-
lined by mJ^ns of two collimators or telescope, placed hori.outally
^ ?he meridian, north and south of the transit circle, with their
obieet ™^U towards it. If these are pointed on one anoth r
?throU holes in the central cube of the telesc,.|,e), eo that he
Tr^cfosses in their foe. coincide, then the "'"-l'!; "' r;'"'Ji'
I first to one and then to the otlier, will have described esactlj 180
aSd by readins off the circle each time the amount of flexure ml
be found MLoewy has constructed « very ingenious apparatus^
for dXrminng the flexure in any zenith distance, bit geue,^ y
the observer of standard stars endeavou,:* to eliminate the effect
of llexure in one of the following w.iys -either the tube is so
a ranged that eye piece and object-glass can be interchanged
whereby the mean of two observations of the same star in the two
;os onsof the object glass will be free from the eflect o flexure
5r astar is not only observed directly (in eenith dusUnce ^, but
also by reflexion from a mercury trough (in zenith distance 180 -^).
Is the mean result of the Z D of the direct and reflexion observa-
tions, betoie and after reversing the instrument east an<l we.t will
only contiin the terms of the flexure depending on sin2/, 6in4^, &u
In order to mise the instrument a reversing carnage is provided
»hich runs on rails between the piers, and on which the axis with
crck-s and telescope can be raised by a kind of screw-jack wheeled
«ut from between the piers, turned exactly 180°, wheeled back, and
gently loweied on its bearings.
The eve end of the telescope has in a plane through the focus
. number of vertical and one or two horizontal wires (spider lines)
The former are used for observing the transits of the stars, each
wire furnishing a separate result for the time of transit over the
roid.lle wire by adding or subtracting the known interval between
Sie latter and the wire in question The intervals are determined
by observing the time UUen by asUr of known decimation to pass
from one wiT. to the other, the pole star being best on account of
its slow motion ' The instrument is provided with a clamping
apparatus, by which the observer, after having beforeliand set to
the approximate dnclination of a star, can clamp the axis so that
the telescope cannot be moved except very slowly by a handle
DU3hin<r thfend of a fine screw against the clamp arm, which at
the oth°6r side is pressed by a strong spring. By this slow motion
the star is made lo run along one of the honzontaJ wires (or if there
are two close ones, in the middle between them), after which the
microscopes are read off. The field or the wues can be illuminated
at the observers pleasure ; the lamps are placed at sonie distjince
from the piers in order not to heat the instrument, and the light
passes through holes in the pier^ and through the hollaw axis to
the cube, whence it is directed to the eye-end by a system of
'"'The time of the star's transit over the middle wire is never
e-tactly enual to the actual time of its meridian passage as the
plane in which the telescope turns never absolutely coincides with
the meridian Let the production of the west end of the axis
meet the celestial sphere in a point of whi.h the altitude above the
horizon is 6 (the error of inclination), and of which the azimuth is
90° -a (the azimuth being counted from south through west) while
the optical axis of the telescope makes the angle 90 +c with the
west end of the axis of the instrument, then the co.rection to the
• -11 K 6in(»-5) . ^cos((»-S) .
observed time of transit will be a ^^^ ^ ■■ + 6 — 75J5 + ' ^'^ "•
where <(. is the latitude of the station and 6 tho declination of the
star (see Geodesy, vol x p 166) This is called Tobiaa Mayers
formula, and U very convenient if only a few observatiuus have
U> be reduced. Puttingft sin » -a cos-0 = n, we get Hansen sjor-
I Reiflimbacli BiippUed Ms tutHM wllh counwrpoising tovera Uko ttiMOOntho
Darptt nrfr»ct(jr (iwe TtLSScorB, ttfi.^iO).
» ^n^.w»"ai'"'imicr "oer'vcS by "eye unci efir," couitlni! the second bents
of 1:, : Clock .n.l con>parin<: the aisMice ot the .lar from ll.e wire at the last beat
b.ro,< the lran,lt over .1,. wire -Uh the dljl-ince at the flr>t beat after Iho
tranl't, lo this way «.lroutl,.g the tln.e ot tratiilt lo 0-1 . or the olMsiver
eSh .-chrono^aph," and oy prcs^lns an electric key cause, a mark 1.. be
made OD a paper .traced ovei a unlloiTOly r.volvlng draw, o.i which the cimk
iK-alB KT* at the aame time also marked electrically .
. ThTide. of lllamlnaiii.K thiough the il5 1! dac to Ussher. professor ol
pmmomf 1« DnbUn /<). l"OI.
niula. which gives the correction - 6 sec <. ■^ n (tan 8 ' t^" *' + ^ ^f *•
which is more convenient for a greater number of observation^
The daUy aberration is always deducted from c, as it is aiso
muUiplied by sec 8 (being (/.Slcos^sec 8). The above cojec.
tions are for upper culmination ; below the pole 180 " « has U> bo
substituted for 5. The constant c is determmed by pointing the
instrument on one of the coUimators measunng the <!'stance of Os
wire-cross fr'.m the centre wire of the transit circle by « vert.i^
wire movable by a micrometer screw, reversing the 'nstrnment and
repeating Xhi operation, or (without reversing) by pou>t.ng the twa
collimators *n one another and measunng the distance of fi™t one
and then the other wire-cross from the centre wire. The nclin
ari on b is measured directly by a level which can be ^°m^fj^
the pivots. Having thus found 6 and c, the observation of two stare
of known right as^insion will furnish two equations from wh ch
?he clock error and the azimuth can be found. For finding the
azimuth it is most advanUgeous to use two stars diffenng as nearly
90' in declination as possible, such as a star n^r the pole and on.
near the equator, or better stUl (if the weather permits it) two
successive meridikn transits of a close circumpolar star (one above
and one below the pole), as in this case errors in the assumed nght
ascension will not influence the result
tKo Tnterval of time between the culminations or mendian
transits of two stars is their difference of tight ascension, 24
S^u^ corresponding to 360° or 1 hour to 15°. 1? once tho ai^olvU
^HasccJo^ of\ number of staM .tor. are ^nown it is
very simple by means of these to detenmne the K.A. ot any
Tumbrof Stars' The absolute B-A. of a star is "-d ^y "^.-rviog
the interval of time between its culmination and hat o the sun.
If the inclination of the ecliptic (.) is known, and the declination
of the un (6) is observed at tL tiine of transit, we have sin a tan .
»tan5. which gives the R.A. of the sun. from which together
with the observed interval of time corrected for the rate ui he
dock v'" "Ot the R.A. of the star. Differentiation of the formula
show; that observations near the e^iuinoxes are "'ost advai,.ag«,us
and that errors in the assumed , and the observed 5 "U ha^e no
influence if the Aa is observed at two epochs when the sun s K A^
is A and 180- A or as near thereto as [.ossible A great number
of tb^rvations of this kind will furnish materials for a st.-tndard
cataSTbut the right ascensions of many important catalogues
have & found by "making use of the R.A.-S of a P^'ou^/-^"
logue to determine the clock error and thus to improve the indi-
vidual adopted R.A. 's of the foniier catalogue.
In order to determine absolute declinations or polar distances, it
is first necessary to deteraiine the co-latitude (or distance of the pole
from the zenith) by observing the upper and lower '■"1™ "»t on
of a number of circumpolar stars. The dilferenco etween the
circle reading after observing a star and the reading cm-respond ng
TL zenith is the zenith distance of the star and this plus the
CO latitude is the north polar distance or 90° - 6. Iti ojder to
determine the zenith point of the circle, the telescope is directed
vertically downwards and a basin of mercury is placed "ider it,
forVnngL absolutely horizontal mirror. Looking through the
te escope the observer sees the horizontal wire and a reflected
image of the same, and if the telescope is moved so as *o make
, *> _ -.1. ;.. '.;„„! „v;c vrlll ho ni-mendicu ar to the plane of
imaee of the same, ana it ine icicscui..; .^ „>-.-.. -- — - -—
th^ coincide its optical axis will be perpendicular to the plane of
the horizon, and the circle reading wilT bo 180° + zei„th point. In
observation; of stai-s refraction has to be taken into •recount as well
as the errors of graduation and flexure, and. if the bisection of the
1 on thehonfonul «ire was not made in the centre of^the field
allowance must be made for curvature (or the d^'-^t on of the
Star's path from a great circle) and for the inclination of the hon-
z^ntll wue to the horizon. The amount of this inclination is foniid
by takin- repeated observations of the zenith distance of a star
during the one transit, the pole star being most suitable owing to
ita slow motion.
i„c™<.,r,_Tl.c methods ot investigating the errors »'"'";"»'' ;^' !;';,' j^jj
c.ncct.iik the results of obse.Tatlons lor them are Riven In ■>■"""»» '»"°
r^,^,, IS manuals (>ee Time) Foi detailed .lescriptions of modem transit
c , V «c p^nlc," > y*/»n^/i. i.r S,r„..arU ,» i.„rf". (vol. U. the »-o;''";5'»»
5^;ii.^S (or 8 5 and ihe pubtHalimsof the Washburn observatory (vol II.).
SrGTocawlcb ci-de'f. delcr'ud la un appcndl., u> the <7rc»...<cA (».^-'»«
(or 1852 ^ ■
TRANSMIGRATION. See Metempsychosis.
TRANSPORTATION. See Prison Discipline.
TRANSUBSTANTIATION. See Ehcharist.
TRANSVAAL, or Sooth African Republic, a country See vol i
in South Africa, Dortheinmo,st of the European states, Plate U
lying between 22° 15' aixl 28° S lat., and 25 and 32 10
E. long., is bounded N. and N.W. by the Limpopo, separat-
ine it from the Makalaka and Bamangwato countries ;,W.
partly by the Marico and the Hart, partly by an Irregufar
ine between tbest> streams, separating it from the new
British prplectorate of Bechuaualand ; S. by the Vaal anil
I the Buffalo, separating it from the Orange Free State aud
TRANSVAAL
517
Natal ; E. by the Libomba Mountains, separating it from
Zululaiid and the Portuguese East African possessions.'
Transvaal thus forms a compact inland territory nearly as
broad as long, not more than 45 or 50 miles from the
Indian Ocean at Delagoa Bay, but otherwise lying com-
pletely within the outer rim of the vast South African
tableland. A line drawn from the south-west extremity,
where It touches Griqualaud West, north-eastwards to the
Limpopo-Shasha confluence, gives an extreme length of 500
miles, the distance from the same confluence southwards to
the Natal frontier being 425, and the greatest length east
and west between the Zulu and Becbuana frontiers about
400 miles. In the absence of accurate surveys, the total are.i
has been variously estimated at from 110,000 to r20,000
square miles, with a population (including aborigines)
roughly calculated at from 750,000 to SOO.OOO.
Physical Features. — Physically Transvaal forms a well-
marked section of the great South African plateau, an
zlevated shallow basin with a mean altitude of over 3000
feet, whose conformation has beeu compared to that of a
•aucer. On the south and east this basin is separated
from the coast by a lofty inner and less elevated onter
rim, the former from COOO to 10.000, the latter about
2000 feet high, sweeping round in curves concentric with
that of the seaboard, from Cajie Colony through Natal and
the east side of Transvaal northwards to the equatorial
regions. The inner rim, whose various sections in the
extreme south are known as the Roggeveld, Nieuweveld,
and Quathlaraba ranges, takes in Natal and Transvaal
the general name of the Drakenberg Mountains. From
the Natal frontier to the Lipalule (Olifant) tributary of
the Limpopo, the Drakenberg maintains the aspect of a
more or less continuous range 5000 to 7000 feet high,
culminating in the Mauchberg (8725), the highest point in
Transvaal A little to the east is the Spitskop (5637), and
further south the Klipstad (6020) and Holnek (5600).
This section, whose several ridges are known as the Verza-
melberg, Randberg, Slangapiesberg, and Komatiberg, falls
everywhere precipitously eastwards towards the Libomba
range, or outer rim of the plateau, which maintains a mean
elevafion of 2000 feet along the eastern border of Trans-
Taa! Beyond the Lipalule, the Drakenberg loses the
character of a well-defined mountain system, broadening
out into uplands moderately elevated above the surround-
ing plateau, and breaking into ridges, such as the Murchi-
«on and Zoutpansberg ranges, which run east and west
between the Lipalule and Limpopo. The whole system
slopes gently westwards to the central tableland, which is
itself intersected by several broken ranges, such as the
Maquassieberg, Gat Rand, Witwater Rand, and Magalies-
berg in the south, the Dwarsberg, Marikele, Hanglip,
Waterberg, and Blauberg in the north, all mostly trending
in the direction from east to west. But few of these
ridges rise much above 4000 feet, and, as the plateau has
a mean altitude of considerably over 3000 feet, they
detract little from the aspect of a vast level or slightly
rolling upland plain, almost everywhere presented by
Transvaal west of the Drakenberg orographic system.
The numerous fossil remains of aquatic life, together
with extensive sandy tracts and the presence in several
places of water-worn shingle, give to the central tableland
the appearance of an upheaved lacustrine basin, whose
waters escaped at one time through the Limpopo to the
Indian Ocean, at another through the Vaal to the Orange
river, and thence to the Atlantic. The Vaal and Limpopo
are still the two great fissures in the plateau, which carry
ofifmostof the surface waters to the surrounding marine
' The boandaries of Transvaal, long a subject of dispute with Great
firitain aod the other contenniBous states, were at last precisely
defined by the couveution of February 27, IS84.
basins. The water-parting between these two river systems^
lies, not in the Drakenberg, itself pierced by the Lipalule
and several of its affluents, but in the Witwater Rand
towards the south-west of the state. From this point the
Limpopo, 01 Crocodile, sweeps round first to the west, then
to the north-east, describing a semicircle of about 1000;
miles to the Limvuba (I'afuri) confluence, where it leaves
Transvaal, flowing thence for nearly 340 miles through
Portuguese territoiy south-east to the Indian Ocean.
Captain G. A. Chaddock has shown (1884) that it i»
navigable for stenniers to this confluence, above which
it is obstructed by the Tolo Azime and other rapids.
Tlirouglioiit Its whole course it receives numerous affluent'
on both sides, such as the Sliaslia and Nuanetsi from tte
north, the Marico, Nyl, Limvuba, Lipalule, and others
from Transvaal, of which region it drains fully 95,000
square miles. With the exception of a few tracts watered
by the headstreams of the Buffalo (Tugela), Mvolozi Usutu,
and Umcomati (King George), flowing in independent
channels eastwards to the Indian Ocean, all the rest of
Transvaal is drained by the Vaal westwards to the Orangfr
and Atlantic. The Vaal has its easternmost .'jources in the
Wakkerstroom district on the west slope of the Draken-
berg, whence it flows for about 450 miles, partly within,
but mainly along, the southern frontier of Transvaal, of
which, with the Hart and other tributaries on its right
bank, it drains about 20,000 square miles altogether.
Besides these perennial streams, there are numerous shallow-
lagoons or saltpans scattered over the western and northera
districts, as well as thermal and mineral waters, such a»
the Warmbad in the Nyl valley. But the only lake pro-
perly so called is Lake Chrissie, a sheet of water nearly
40 miles round, and in parts very deep, which lies on the
west side of the Drakenberg, 5755 feet above sea-level.
CHmoU. — Although lying on the border of and partly xvithin
the tropics, Transvaal, tnanKs to its great elevation above tlie sea,
and to the absence of extensive marshy tracts, enjoys on the wholo
a healthy invigorating climate, well suited to the European consti-
tution. Owing to the dryness of the air, due to the proximity of
the Kalahari desert, the western and central districts are specially
favourable to persons suffering from consumption and other chest
complaints. But some of the low. lying inoist tracts along the-
Limpopo and other river valleys, close to or within the torrid zone,
are extremely insalubrious, fever of the general African type being-
here endemic, and its prevalence usually marked by tlie presence
of the destructive tsetse fly. The route from Delagoa Bay to the
interior also traverses a fever stricken coast district l>€tween th-i
sea and the Libomba escarpment, dangerous especially in the rainy
summer season. The rains generally begin about Octolter. sonic-
times a little before or after, and last intermittently till April. Hut
the rainfall is very unequally distributed, most of the moisture bear-
ing clouds from the Inaian Ocean being arrested by the great barrier
of the Drakenberg, or counteracted by the dry west winds fiora llio-
Kalahari desert. Thus, white there is abundance of rain in the-
east, the country gradually becomes drier as it approaches Bccbuana-
land. During the dry winter season (April to September) keea
frosty winds blow from the south, sweeping freely over the central
plains and carrying the moisture to be precipitated as snow along:
the eastern highlands. Nevertheless, according to the careful
meteorological observations made by Mr Lys at Pretoria between
1877 and 18S0, the mean annual temperature is considerably over
68° F , falling to about 40° in June and rising to 90° and occa-sion-
ally even 95° in January. The rainfall in the same central district
seldom reaches 30 inches, which is probably a fair average for tho
whole of Transvaal, falling to 12 towards the western and rising to
60 on the eastern frontier.
Afuieral Jic-wurc£s. — Transvaal yields to no other African region'
in the abundance of its mineral resonrcis, while it is allnj^-ifier un*-
rivalled in their extraordinary variety. These include, besides the
precious metals and diamonds, iron, copper, lead, coh;dt, sulptiiir,
saltpetre, and coal, this last with gold, copper, and irf-n being
probably the most abund.Tnt and widrly distributed. OoM. largely
diffused tlirnughout the Oi-nkcnbci;:and in the northern Znu!p;uiS-
bcrg and \V;itcrbcrg districts and in tho Riist«fnburg and Marico
districts in the extreme west, as well .is in the Inj^bbinds hctweeiv
Transvaal and the Zambesi, b.is hitherto been worked chiefly ia
the rich auriferous region of Lydenburg about Mount Mauchberg:
and Mount Spitskop in the central parts of the Drakentwrg range,
and farther south in the Johannesburg aud Lower Kaap (Sheba))
518
TRANSVAAL
district, lUddelbnrg. -• The Lydenbnrg _ deposits, diaoovered in
1873, lie at an elevation of 4500 to 6000 £eet •10 aiilea south of the
lipalule river and 125 north-west of Lorenzo "Marques on Delagoa
Bay, the chief dig^gs being at Pilgrim's Best and Mao Mac close
to the Spitskop. In the Middelburg district the chief centres of
mining operations are the recently founded towns of Barberton and
Johannesburg. In some years the Lydenburg, Marabastad, and
other diggings have jointly yielded over £300,000, obtained by
washing and vrithoat any qnartz-cmshing. Iron ores are also
widely distributed, and JIis Yzerberg ("Iron Mountain") near
Marabastad (24° S., 80° E.) consists of an enormous mass of rich
iron ore, which the natives have worked for ages. Diamonfls are
chiefly confined to the Bloemhoff district on the Vaal above the
great diamantiferons region of Kimberley in Griqualand;/West
Coal abounds in the south-eastern districts (Wakk^rsfroom,
Tltrecht), and also farther north in Middelburg (Nazareti.l and
Lydenburg. In some places seams 7 or 8 feet thick lie so near
the surface that they are quarried and the coal carted away by the
uatives. The prevailing formations where this great mineral wealth
is embedded are quartz, porphjrry, granites, clay slates, greenstone,
Lower Devonian strata, conglomerates, and limestones.
Fl<rra. — In Transvaal, as in most of the continent, an heroaceotts
flora prevails largely over forest growths, which are here confined
chiefly to the deep kloofs (gorges) Of the mountain ranges, and to
the courses of the larger streams. Bush, including mimosas, thorn
thickets, and creepers, covers extensive tracts on the northern and
southern plains, and the Wakkerstroom and Utrecht districts to-
wards Natal are well wooded. But elsewhere the characteristic
features are grasslands, downs, hill slopes, flats, and even many
parts of the higher uplands being covered with savannahs generally
stfording good pasturjige and fodder for cattle. In the woodlands
the prevailing species are thrse varieties of yellow wood (Podo-
tarpns), often growing to an enormous size, the Cape beech (MyT-
's'lu), several varieties isf the wild pear {OlinUt) and of stinkwood
i^Oreodaphni), iroawood, and ©"bony. , The Boers and other settlers
have hitherto occupied, themselves chiefly *nth stock-breeding
<sheep, cattle, and horses), but there can be no donbt that much of
the country is eminently suited for the culrivation of cereals, j-jeld-
ing two annual crops and producing some of the finest wheat in the
world. Tobacco, the vine, and most European fmits and vegetables
also thrive well, vrfhile semi-tropical products, such as cotton, sugar,
■ind cotfee, might be raised in tie warmer northern districts. ^ .'.^
^' Fauna. — By the early settlers Transvaal was described as the
"paradise" of hunters,"* abounding In the characteristic large
animals, such as the lion, leopard, rhinoceros, elephant, giraffe,
zebra, quagga, several varieties of antelope, and the ostrich, which
roam over the continent from Soudan to the Cape. All these
animals still exist, but in greatly reduced numbers, being now
largely replaced by the domestic animals — cattle, sheep, and horses
'—introduced by the white settlers. All the largo rivers are in-
habited by the hippopotamus and crocodile, the latter giving an
alternarive name to the Limpopo; the buffalo, gnu, eland, spring-
bok, wildbeeste, baboon, and several other members of the ape
family are also frequently met with. The country is occasionally
swept by destructive flights of locusts; but the greatest enemy of
the stock-breeder is the tsetse fly, which infests the coastlands and
many of the riverine tracts, but shows a tendency to disappear
Svith the large game, retreating with the advance of the plough.
A tsetse belt 40 miles wide along the whole course of the Limpopo
still bars the spread of European settlements bevond Transvaal in
the direction of the Zambesi. ,
t /«Aa6itan«j.— Of the population not more than 50,000 are wnites,
mostly Boers (descendants of the early Dutch. French, and German
immigrants to the Cape), with a large and increasing percentage of
British settlers, attracted in recent years especially to the Lyden-
burg and other mining districts. All the rest are natives, belong-
ing mainly to the Basiito and Bechuana branches of the Bantu
family, and consequently allied in speech and to a large extent iu
physique to their Zulu-Kalire neighbours. A considerable number
of these natives have abandoned tlio tribal state and taken service,
either freely or by Compulsion, witli the whites as farm labourers iu
the rural districts, and as doiueatic servants in the towns, and are
now also largely employed in mining operations. The great bulk
of the rest, who reUiiii their national usages and recognize the
authority of more or leas independeot tribal chiefs, are concentrated
iu the northern aud eastern proviuc«;s of Zoutpansberg (364,000),
|Waterberg (174,000), and Lydenburg (123,0UU). There are also
about 40,000 in Bloemhoff (extreme south-weit), and the same
number in the western provinces of Knstenburg and Marico, but
only a few scattered groups in all the rest of the country. These
western and southwestern tribes (Barolongs. Batlapius, Bakwenas,
Bakhatlis, ic.) are all Bechuunns; the others mainly Ilakatis, as
tho Basutos are here collectively called. It may be stated in a
general way that the whole country south of the Lipalule is now
free of native claims and open to European colonization, while
" I On the rODte between the Oranee and Vaal (1835-37) tho **Toor-trekKcr8^
fcrosald to bavekilleil tta luaay 6a 200 Uonw jl' " " ^~'
the nostnern region between that rivsrecd tha Limpopo is stil
to a large extent oceupiad by unredDced «r unbrokes Basnto
communities.
NatuTal and FolUwil Divisions. — Transvaal has been divided
into three more or less distinct natural regions, determined chiefly,
by the relief of the land, and its climatic and economic conditions,'
These are — (1) the Hooge veld, or uplands, comprising the southern
districts drained by the Vaal and the Drakenberg highlands as fai
north as the Lipalule, about 35,000 square miles altogether, with
an altitude ranging from 4000 to 7000 feet; (2) the Banken veld,
or terrace lands, comprising the low eastern zone between the
Drakenberg and Liboraba ranges, falling in many places down to a
level of 2000 feet, with an area of 15,000 to 20,000 squaro miles;
(3) the Bosch veld, or bush country, comprising all the rest of the
land, with an altitude of 3000 to 4000 feet and an area of 60,000
square miles. For administrative purposes the country is again
divided into thirteen provinces ; — Zoutpansberg and Waterberg in
the north ; Lydenburg, Middelburg {formerly Nazareth), Pretoria,
Rustenburg, and Marico in the centre; Utrecht, Londina, Wak-
kerstroom, Heidelberg, Potchefstroom, and Bloemhoff in the south.1
In the southern part of Lydenburg lies the somewhat detached
district of New Scotland, comprising some 500,000 acres selected
by the late Mr M'Corkindale as a Scotch pastoral and'agricultura)
settlement. It is a healthy prosperous country, lying on the slopes
of the Drakenberg, within 310 miles of Durban, Natal. But the
most thickly settled province is Potchefstroom, a feitile tract,'
3500 to 5000 feet high, abundantly watered by the Mooi, SchoenJ
and other streams flowing to the Vaal, and well iuited for till^^
and pasturage. Its capital of like name (derived Ijom elements in
those of Potgieter, Sehcif, and Stockenstrooni, thite popular Boer
leaders during the early migrations) is the most settled and one of
the largest towis in Transvaal. The only other places deserving
the name of town are Pretoiia, capital of the province of like name
and of the state, occupying a somewhat central position 100 miles
north-east of Potchefstroom, 980 from Cape Town, 820 from Port
Elizabeth, and 400 from Durban ; Barborlon. in the Lower Kaap
mining district, 150 miles by road from Dela,'',i'a Ray, only three
years old, but already by far the largest place lu the state, with a'
population (1887) of 15,000; aud Johannesburg, centre of the gold-!
fields of the same name, 30 miles south-east of Pretoria, and 72
east of Potchefstroom, founded in 1886, but_alreadv_ larger than
Pretoria, with a population of over 4000. ^
• Administratum and SUUisiics. — TransvaaFcnjoys representative'
institutions, with a volksraad or parliament of forty. four membera
elected for four years, one-half retiring every two years, the
executive being entrusted to a president elected for five years by.
the whole, body of electors, assisted by a council of four, the eaw
0,^10 vice-president and the state secretary, with two others^
appointed by the volksraad. j The revenue, derived chiefly fromj
land sales, quit rents, stamps, hut-tax, and customs, balanced the
expenditure in 1S85, and exceeded it by £15,000 in 1886, the re-^
spective sums being £260,000 and £245,000. In 1884 the pubUis
debt was £396,000, the exports (gold, ivory, com, wool, hides, cattle,'
ostrich feathers, &c.) about £600,000, and the imports probablyl
over £1,000,000. The long-projected railway, intended to afford
an outlet to the coast at Delagoa Bay, was completed in 1887 from
Lorenzo Marques, the seaward terminus, to the Transvaal frontier,]
a distance of 50 miles. Transvaal is in telegraphic communication
with the Cape and tha rest of the world. through. the Oranee Freej
State.
History.'— The historic life' of Transvaal begins with the "Great
Trek," or general exodus of tho Cape Colony Boers, who, being dis-'
satisfied, especially with the liberal policy of the British Govemmentj
towards the natives, removed northwards in large numbers between
the years 1833 and 1837. By 1836 some thousands had already
crossed the Vaal, that is, had reached the "Trans- Vaal" conntry,!
which at that time was mostly under the sway of the powerful
refugee Zulu chief Moselekatze, whose principal kraal was at
Mosega in the present Marico district on the west frontier. To
avenge the massacre of some emigrant bands, the Boers under
Maritz and Potgieter attacked and utterly defeated Moselekatze a^
this place in 1837. Next year the Zulu chief withdrew beyond tha
Limpopo, where he founded the present Matebele state between
that river and the Zambesi, thus leaving the region between tha
Vaal and Limpopo virtually in the hands of the Trekkcrs. But
their position was rendered insecure on the east side by the militaryj
despotism of the fierce Zulu chief Dingaan, who, after the murder
of his brother Chaka, had asserted his authority over the whole;
of Zululand and most of the present Natal. The situation .wa^
rendered almost desiicrate by the complete rout and wholesale
massacre (1838) of the right division of the emigrant Boers, whoi
had ventured to cross the Buffalo under Pietef Relief, and whd
were defeated by Dingtian, first at Umkongloof (" Aceldama "), theni
at Weenen (" Weeping "), and again soon after under Uys, Maritz;
and Potgieter, when as many as SQO fell before the irresistible
onslaught of the disciplined Zulu warriors. At this critics'
* uncture the ^Tiekkers were saved from utter extermination .b
T R A -T R A
619
iodries Pretorius of Graaff Reinet, by whom DinRMn met with a
3ist check before the close of 1838. foUowpd id Jahuary 1840 by
A still more crushing defeat Diugaan having been soon after
Tnnrdered, the friendly Panda was set up in his place, and Natal
\>roclaimed a Boer republic. Bat the Bri'ish occupation of that
Umtory in 1843 induced the Boers to retire in two bands across
the Drakenberg, the southern division settling in the present
Orange Free State, the northern again passing into Transvaal.
But, owing to internal dissensions, and the perpetual bickerings of
the two most prominent personalities, Pretorius and Potgieter, all
Ittempta at establishing an organized system of government through-
out Transvaal ended in failure, till Pretorius iuduced the British
Government to sign tho Sand River convention (January 17, 1862),
vbich virtually established the political independence of that
region The death both of Pretorius and Potgieter in 1853 pre-
pared the way for a period of internal peace under Pretonus's eldest
3on Marthinus Wessels Pretorius, 6rst president of the "Dutch
African Republic," whose title was afterwards altered (1858) to
that of the "South African Republic " But a laul element of
weakness lay in the persistent refusal of the Boers to treat tho
Obtives on a footing of equality, or even with common justice. The
wjrder of Hermann Potgieter and family (1854), avenged by
f retorius at Makapan's Cave, was followed (1956) by the "Apprentice
Law," establishing a system of disguised slavery, which was lurther
strengthened by the sanctiooOSoS) of the Grand wet, or "funda-
mental Law," declaring that the " people will admit of no equality
of persons of colour with the white inhabitants either in slate or
church." Giving to this policy opposition was coDslantly shown
both to the English traders, disposed to deal fairly with all, and
to the missionaries, preachers of universal equality, as illustrated
by the plunder <A Livingstone's house by the commando sent
against the native chief Secheli iii 1852 A brief chronicle must
here suffice of subsequent events down to the present time —
1857. invasion of the Orange Free State by Pretorius, dispute
settled without bloodshed by the treaty of June 1
1859 Pretorius elected president of the Free State, fails Uj effect
the union of the two states.
1863 Return of Pretorius, during whose absence affairs had fallen
intoconfu.'-ion , continued troubles with the natives , quarrels
with the Bailapins. Barolongs, and Gnquas in the west . in
the east with Ketthywavo, king nf Zululand, about the
Boers" right to the Wakkerstroorti and Utrecht districts/
1867 Discovery of diamonds, and Mauch's announcement of gold
fields in the interior
1868 Pretonus's pioclamation extending the boundaries of the
state west to Lake Ngami, east to Delagoa Bay. whence
disputes and negotiations with England and Portugal,
Delagoa Bay being ulnmaiely aw.irded (July 1875) to
Portugal by the French president. Marshal MacMahoD. to
whose decision the matter had been referred
1871 Boundary disputes towards the south west settled by the
award of Lieutenarit Governor Ktate of Natal, leading to
the resignation of Pretorius and appomtment of President
Burgers.
1875. The Fundamental Law forces Burgers to measures leading to
the war with Sikokuni, chttl of the BapeJi. south of the
Olifant river, nho claimed large part of Lydenburg and even
of Pretoria; Bnrgeis'e visit to Europe lo connexioii uith the
Delagoa Railway scheme ; on l>is return he hnds everything
in the greatest confusion; Boers dispirited by repeated
reverses in the Sikokuni war, &3 empty treasury, broken
credit; the state practically bankrupt and exposed to im
minent danger of invasion by Bapedis and Zulus Hence
1876-77. Intervention of England, and Sir Theoj.hilus Sbepstone's
proclamation (April 12, 1877) annexing "Transvaal, followed
by the appointment of Sir W Owen Lanyon as British
administrator
1880-81 Revolt of the discontented Boers, who, being successful
in a few contests with British troops, induced the British
Government to resloie the republic under the "suzerainty"
of the queen, by the treaty of peace of Uaicb 21, 1881, a
British residei". being appointed, with the functions of a
consul-general.
1883. S. J. Paul Kniger elected president.
1884. Convention of London (Febiuary 27, ratified by the volks-
raad, August 8) recogjuzing the bt.at6 aa the South African
Republic, and considerablyrestricting the British suzerainty.
1886. Proclamation (March 23) of the British protectorate over
Becbuanaland, thereby arresting tie westward advance of
the Boers into the Baraangwato, Bakwena, Bniigwaketsi,
and Barolong territories, and keeping open the great trade
route from Cape Colony through Hopetowu and Shoshoog
to the Zambesi.
1886. Presh discoveries of rich aur Jcrous deposits especially in the
Middelburg province, followed b^ a great influx of English-
speaking populations, thuateomg to swamp the Boer
element.
1886. Projected South African confederation, opposed by Kriiger,
but supported by the Orange State, Cape Colony, and a
majority of the Transvaal Boers. Connected with this
scheme is the proposal of a uniform tariff and the immediate
construction of a through railway from Cape Town to
Delagoa Bay. (A. H. K.)
TRANSVERSE FLUTE, The,— or German Flute, as
it was formerly designated in Great Britain, — may be de-
scribed as a musical instrument in which a column of air is
set in vibration by regular pulsations derived from a current
of air directed by the lips of the executant against the side
of an orifice serving as an embtsuchure, pierced laterally in
tho substance of the pipe and towards its upper extremity.
This mode of blowing appears to be of very ancient origin:
the Hindus, Chineoe, and Japanese claim to have used it
from time immemorial ; in Europe the high antiquity of a
lateral embouchure is generally admitted, although it does
not really rest, so far as our present knowledge goes, on
any conclusive evidence '
The oblique flute of the Greeks was of Egyptian origin,
and it is therefore safest to suppose it to have been like
the instrument frequently Bgured on the monuments of
ancient Egypt, which, held obliquely, was blown through
the oriBce itself of the pipe at its upper extremity The
same instrument (called " nay ") is still used in Moham-
medan countries The flute is often mentioned in mediaeval
poetry, but no details of its construction are given. It
was the custom, moreover, to designate various instru-
ments by this name The oldest representation we know
of the transverse flute is found in the 11th-century frescos
of the cathedral of St Sophia at Kieff. Eustache Des-
champs, a French poet of the 14 th century, in one of his
ballads, makes mention of the " flute traversaine," and we
are justified in supposing that he refers to the transverse
flute It had certainly acquired some vogue in the 15th
century, being figured in an engraving in Sebastian Vird-
ung's celebrated work,'^ where it is called " Zwerchpfeiff,"
and, with the drums, it already constituted the principal ele-
ment of the military music. Agricola ^ alludes to it as the
"Quercbpfeiff " or " Schweizerpfeiff," the latter designa-
tion dating, it lb said, from the battle of Marignan (1515),
when the Swiss troops u^ed it for the first time in war.
From Agricola onwards transverse flutes formed a complete family,
said to comprise the di&cant, the alto and tenor, and the hass, —
n ^__^.^ ,,__ respectively There is evidently
~Y H. I ry- an error iii the indications of
vy r)~ I pitch here given, for the instru-
*^ ^ ~0 meuts must in fact have produced
1^ sounds an u(.lii\e higher than those noted Prstorius,*
who in tt special note warns his readers against inaccuracies of this
kind which were theu frequciit, designates the transverse flute as
" traversa Querpfeifl"" and "Querflot." and notilics the bass in
'\- fj • the tenor "0 and the ~^ ' .3— asv.irietiesthen
' . and alto M^ ].~ , discant mi_0_ in use. A flute
in *J'0'~ in \j concert at that
time included two discants, four altos or * -nors. and two basses.
The same author distinguishes between the " Travei-sa " and tho
"Schweizerpfeiff" (which he also calls *' Feldpfeiff," re, mili-
tary flute), although the construction was the same. There were
respectively, they were em-
'ed exclusively with the
itary drum.'
* The Louvre has two ancient statues (from the Villa Borghesej
represeotmg satyrs playing upon transverse flutes. Unfortunately
tbese roarblea have been restored, especially in the details affecting
our present subject, and are therefore exaniples of no value to us.
Another statue represenung a flute-player occuu in the British
Museum. The instrument has been rupposed to be ri transverse flute,
but erroneously, for the insctflation of ttie l.-xteial tube .against which
the insli-umentali6l presses liis lips, could nut, VMtlioiit the ioterveution
of a reed, excite the vibratory movement of the rolunin of air.
3 Musica getuUcht uJu2 avszfjeiogen, Basel, 1511
* Mustca /ustruni^ntitUs, \\ iltcol-er^, 162^
* Organographia, WoKviilultel, ISlS.
' It is from the word P/ciJf lUal the Freucli Fi/ic and the English
Fi/e, still applied to the military flutes in present use, are evidentlj
derived.
tary flute), although the construction was
two kmds of ''y ~] y respei
"FeldpfeiS," Bn j and ms jti ploye
in tT tJcT- miliu
520
TRANSVERSE FLUTE
Mersenne's^ account of the transverse flute, then designated
"6ute d'alleniand" or "fldte alleraande" in France, is obscure
enough; but the tablatures and an "Air do Conr" foi four flutes in
his work lead us to believe that there were then iu use in France
the sopra- T7 ' the tenor -"fi and the bass ^- ~\ — :
no flute ^) jzn , or alto ^ flute descend- eJ .
in K/'^ flute in tT'lZZ ing to
The Museum of the Conservatoire "C7^ Royal of Brussels pos-
sesses specimens of all varieties hitherto mentioned except the last.
All of them are laterally pierced with six fiuger holes ;^ they have
a cylindrical bore, and are fashioned out of a single
piece of wood. Their compass consists of two
octaves and a fifth. The successive opening of the
lateral holes gives rise to a series of fundamental
notes forming the first octave. By a stronger pres-
sure of the breath these notes are reproduced in the
next octave high-r, and the extent of compass of
the instrument is completed in the higher region
by the production of other harmonics.'
The largest bass flute in the Brussels museum is in
f-^. 1 at the French normal pitch A -435 double
iJ.'.. PgZ vibrations per second. It measures 0 95
m, from the centre of the blow orifice to
the lower extremity of the tube. The disposition
of the lateral holes is such that it is impossible to
cover thera with the fingers if the flute is held in
the ordinary way. The instrument must be placed
against the mouth in an almost vertical direction,
inclining the extremity of the tube either to the
right or the left This inconvenient position makes
it necessary that the instrument should be divided
into two parts, enabling the player to turn the
bead joint that the embouchure may be most com-
modiously approached by the lips, which is not at
all easy. The first and fourth of the six lateral
holes are double, but those holes are stopped up
witli wax which have become useless through the
playei-'s habit of using the fingers of the right or
left hand to cover the higher three holes. The
bass flute shown in fig. 1 is the facsimile of ao
instrument in the Museo Civico of Verona. The
original, unfortunately no longer fit for use, is
. nevertheless sufficiently well preserved to allow of
all its proportionate measurements being given
The lowest note, E[j, is obtained with a remark-
able amplitude of sound, thus upsetting a very
prevalent opinion that it is impossible to produce
by lateral insufilation sounds which go a little Fie. i. Fig. 2.
lower than the ordinary limit dowuwards of tlie modern orchestral
flute*
The bass flute cited by Mersenne should not differ much from
that of the M useo Civico at Verona We suppose it to have been in
r\, . and that it was furnished with an open key like that
"' o which was applied to the recorders (fiuUs dmiccs) of the
same epoch, the function of the key being to augment
by another note the compass of the instrument in the lower part
Following Quantz,* it was in France and about the middle of the
17t}i century that the first modifications were introduced in the
manufacture of the flute. The improvements at this period con-
listed of the abandonment of the cylindrical bore in favour of a
conical one, with the wide part in the head of the instrument At
the same time the flute was made of three separate pieces called
head, body, and foot, which were ultimately further sutnlivided.
The body or middle joint was divided into two pieces, so that the
instrument could be tuned to the di9"erent pitches then in use
by a replacement with longer or shorter pieces. It was probably
about 1677, when LuUy introduced the German flute into the oi^era,
,that recourse was had for the first time to keys, and that the key
of Dj( was applied to the loA-er part of the instrument.® The en-
graving of B. Ficart, dated 1707, which ornaments the work of
the French flautist Hottetcrre-le-Romain,' represents the flute
ts having reached the stage of improTement of which we have
just ppoken, but the body was still formed of one piece only. In
1726 Quantz,^ finding himself in Paris, had a second key applied to
i * Harmmie Unirerselle, Paris, 1636.
' > It Is uBofll to Indicate the tonality of flutes by the note produced when the
tin lateral holea are coTered by tlie flnpcrs. This custom is objectionable, because
It ts the diepoaitlon of the flnuers which Is made use of to sound D. The prac-
tice has for Ita re-iult that the tonality is always s note lower than the signature
toed, Thus the (lutein D Is reaUy in C; that Id Fin tfcj, ic.
• Victor Mablllon,//intJ on the Fimjfring o/ the Borhm Flute, Lonilon, 1884.
' * F^tis, /iapport sur la Fabi-ication det Instrvmentt de Aluiiquea iExposition
VHivtrselle <i£ I'aris, en JS55.
: » Vertttcfi fine- Anteeistwt; die Flote travfriiere zn spielen, Berlin. 1752.
', • Unless where the conimry is stated, we have always In view, in describlnR
Jhenjccessive iniprovt-ments of the flute, the treble flute In D, which isconsidcrcU
^be typical f.f the lamlly. 7 Prineipes de la Flute Travtrixire.
J a "Uerrn Johann Joachim Quantzius Lcbcnslanf, Ton Ihm selbst eotworfen,"
U the BiiLoriich-KriiiKhe lieitrage zur Aufiiahme der Hunk by Marpurg,
Berlla. I7i4. Quanti was professor of the flute to Frederick tbc Great.
the flute, placed nearly at the samo height as the first, that of the
^ , intended to differentiate the Dj and the £[». Thi»
(\y ^ j innovation was generally well received in Germany, but
t/ JfcJ ■■ does not appear to have met with corresjiojiding success in
other countries. In France and Engjand manufacturers adopted
it but rarely; in Italy it was declared useless.^ About the same
time flutes were constructed with the lower extremity IciigllicneA
and furnished with two supplementary keys to produce the Cjt and.
C. This innovation, spoken of by Quantz, did not meet with a
very favourable reception, and was shortly afterwards abandoned.
Passing mention may be made of the drawing of a flute witih a C
key in the Music-Saat of J. F. B. Mayers, Nuremberg, 1741.
The tuning of the instrument to different pitches was eflfected,.
as already explained, by changes in the length, and notably by
substituting a longer or shorter upper piece in the middle joint
So wide were the differences in the pitches then in use that sovci*
such pieces for the upper portion of it were deemed necessary.
The relative proportions between the different parts of the iustru-
ment being altered by these niodihcations 'n the length, it was
conceived that the just relation could be reestablished by dividing-
the foot iuto two pieces, below the key. These two pieces were
adjusted by means of a tenon, and it was asserted that, in this way,
the foot could be lengthened proportionately to the length of the
middle joint Flutes thus improved took the name of "flutes k-
registre." The register system was, about 1752, applied by Quantz
to the head joint, and, the cnibouchnic section being thus capable-
of elongation, it was allowable to the performer, according to the
opinion of this professor, to louer the pitch of the flute a semitone,
without having recourse to other lengtiiening pieces, and without-
disturbing the accuracy of intonation. i
The upper extremity of tho flute, beyond the embouchm e orifice,
ifl closed by means of a cork stopper. On the position of tliis corfc
depends, in a great measure, the accurate tuning of the flute. It £2
is in its right place when the accompanying octaves are __/) j^
true. Quantz, in speaking of this accessory, mentions y('~~t~f^ —
the use of a nut-screw to give the required position to •Jjj) ~j~r — •
the cork. He does not name the inventor of this ap- ^
pliance, but, according to Tromlitz,'** the improvement was due to
Quantz himself The invention goes back to 1726.
When the Method of Quantz apiwared there were still in use,
besides the orchestral flute in D, the little fourth ffute in G, th«
low fourth flute in Af^and the fltite d'amour a note higher ; iu
France they had, moreover, the little octave flute in D (octave). A
bass flute in D had also been attempted (see fig. 2). When Ribocq^
published his Bemerhingen iiber die Flote '* the flote had already
the five keys here shown. This author does __a^ ■ , '
not cite the inventor of these new keys, but yL~ ■ ' 1 Tjin^J
some claim them for Kusder, a musical-instru- ij|)itli't?^^.j:?ff^^f^
ment maker in London, others for Johann ^ W^
George Tromlitz of Leipsic, and Rihocq declares he has seen no flutes
so constructed other than by these two nxakers. But Tromlitz lays
no claim for himself to the credit of this improvement. lie only
says that " he had occupied himself for several years in applying,
these keys so as not to augment the difficulty of playing, but, on
the contrary, to reuder the handling of thera as easy as possible."**
We may therefore regard the London maker as the author of the
first flute with five keys, with, however, a reservation as to tlie G^
key, which, from 1727, had been applied by Hoffmann of Pasten-
berg '^ to the transverse flute and the oboe. The higher key of CB,
adopted from 1786 by Tronditz, we believe to have been first re-
commended by Ribocq (1782).
In 1785 Richard Potter, of London, improved Quantz's slidt
applied to the head joint as well as to the register of ti»e foot by
a double system of tubes forming double sliding air-tight joints.
In the document" describing this improvement Potter patentee
the idea of clothing the holes which were covered by keys formed
by metal conical valves. The keys mentioned in the patent were
four. — Dj(, F, Gj}. A^ The idea of extending the compass of the
flute downwards was taken up again about the same time by twc
players of the flute in London named Tacet and Florio. They dc*
vised a new disposition of the keys C and Cjf, and confided the execu-
tion of their invention to Potter. In Dr Arnold's New Instiiictiom-
for the German Flute occurs a tablature, the engraving of which
goes, back to the end of the 18th century, and bears the following
title, "A Complete Drawing and Concise Scale and Description oV
Tacet and Florio's new invented German Flute, with ,ill thi? ad^.
tional keys explained." It explains the use of six keys, — C, CiL
D|, F, GJ, A|,— that are not always figured, because the employ-
ment of so many keys was at once admitted. Tromlitz himself^
who, however, made flutes with nine keys, — adding £[?, another F.
and Ct|, declared that he was not in favour of so great a compliua'
tion, and that he preferred the fluto \*ith only two keys, D^ and E[(,
fl Antonio Lorenzoni, Saggio per ben sonare itflauto traverso, Vlcenza, 177ft,
10 Aus/uhrhcher und gnndiicher Onierricht die Flote tu tpieten, Lelpalc. 1797.
Compaie Schilling. Univ. -Lexicon. Lelpalc, 1836. " Stendul, 1782. ,
'* Kurte Abhan4{ung von Fiolenspitlen, LelpsIc, 1786.
15 Gerbcr, Lexicon Oct TonJciinula; Lelpalc, 1790. » EugUsh patent. No. 149ft
T R A-T R A
^th a rp^ister foot joint and n cork nut-screw at the head joint
This instrument met all requirements. He was even against the
use of the keys for Cfl and Cj, Kcause thev altered the recognized
quality of tone of the instrument. When Tromiitz published his
method, the family of flutes had become modified. It compre-
hended only the typical flute in D, the fliite damour a minor
third lower, a "third" fluto a miuor third liif;her, and, finally,
the little octare flute.
While Troinlitz \ras stmggling in Germany with the idea of
angmenling the compass of the Rule downwards by employing open
keys for CB and C^ an Italian, Giovanni Batista Orazi,' increased
the scale of the instrument do»*ward.« by the application of five
new Eeys, viz., B, Bb, A, &),. and G At the same time that he
produced this inventio-. " he conceived the plugging ot the lateral
holes by the valve keys then recenMy invented by Potter But
It was hardly possible to obtain a perfect plugging of seven lateral
holes with the aid of as many keys, for the control of whicli there
were only the two little fingers, and therefore this invention of
Orazi proved a failure.
In 1S03 Frederick Nolan,' of Stratford, neat London, conceived
an open key, the lever of which, terminating by a ring, permitted
the closing of a lateral hole at the same time the key was being
acted upon. The combination in this double action is the embryo
of the mechanism that a little later was to transform the system of
the flute. Two years later Macgregor,' a musical instrument maker
in London, constructed a bass flute an octave lower than the ordi-
nary flute. The idea wa-i not new, as is proved by the existence
of the bass flute mentioned above The difference between the two
instmmentp lies in the mechanism of the kevs. That employed by
Macgregor consisted of a double lever, a contrivance dating from
before the middle of the 18th century, of which the application is
seen in an oboe of large dimensions preserved in the National
Mnseum at Munich.'
About 1830 the celebrated French flautist Tulou added two more
keys, those of Fjf and C|, and a key, called
de cadence," to facilitate the accompany-
ing shakes.
To increase the number of keys, to improve
their system of plugging, and to extend the
scale of the instrumert in the lower region, \y
—these had hitherto been the principal problems dealt with in
the improvement of the flute. No maker, no inventor whoso
labours we have called attention to, had as yet devoted hb atten-
tion to the rational division of the column of air by means of the
lateral holes. In 1831- Theobald Boehm, a Baranan, happening to
be in London, was struck with the power of toue the celebrated
fcnglish performer Charles Nicholson drew from his instrument
Boehm learned, and not without astonishment, that his English
coUeagne obtained this result by giving the lateral holes a much
greater diameter than was then usually admitted. About the
same time Boehm made the acquaintance of an amateur player
named Gordon, who had efl'ected certain improvements ; he had
bored the lateral hole for the lower E, and had covered it with a
key, while he had replaced the key for F with a ring. These innova-
tions set Boehm about attempting a complete reform of the instru-
ment He went resolutely to work, and during the year 1832 he
produced the new flute which bears his name. This instrument is
distin^ished by a new mechanism of keys, as well as by larger
holes disposed along the tube in geometrical progression.
Boehm 's system had preserved the key of Gi open ; Coche ' a
professor in the Paris Conservatoire, assisted by Auguste Buffet
the younger, a musical-instrument maker in that city, modified
Boehm s flute by closing the GJ with a key. wishing thus to render
the new fiiigenng more conformable to the old. He thus added a
key, facilitating the shake upon CS with Di and brought about
some other changes in the instrument of less importance
Boehm had not, however, altered the bore of the flute, which had
been conical from the end of the 17th century. In 1846 however
he made further experiments, and the results obtained were put in
practice by the construction of anew instrument, of which the body
was bored cylindrical, but the head was modified at the embouchure
1 he inventor thus obtained a remarkable equality in the tones of
the lower octave, a greater sonorousness, and a iierfect accuracy of
intonation, by establishing the more exact proportions which a
eolnmn of air of cylindrical form permitted.
The priority of Boehm's invention was long contested his
detractors maiutaining that the honour of having reconstructed
the flute was due to Gordon. But an impartial investigation
-i!»T!!f, '"J^ "l 'Ws.lsrce finle was taken up again In I8la by Trexler of Viennn.
' L^T'l, "l*^":?"- »!"">« 'he Mme. constracied about 177.5 andTaied
IM7^nd w « B "°!^''-" ''"''dU ue^itn Vfrbuserungm dttselbm, Mainz,
» Bxaniai crUiq^ue de la Flit, Orilnaire a.mi,arie i la FlOle Sxhm, Paris, 1938.
521
vindicates the claim of the former to the invention of the large
lateral holes." His greatest title to fame is the invention of the
mechanism which allows the production of the eleven chromatic
semitones intermediate between the fundamental note and its first
harmonic by means of eleven holes so disposed that in opening
them successively they shorten the column of air in exact propor.
tional quantities." Boehm '» has published a diagram or scheme to
be adopted in deterrnming the position of the note-holes of wind
instruments for every given pitch. This diagram gives the position
of the intermediate holes which he had been enabled to establish by
a rule of proportion based on the law of the lengths of strings.
The Boehm flute, notwithstanding the high degree of perfection
it has reached, has not secured Unanimous favour ; even now ther«
aie players who prefer the ordinary flute. The change of fingering
required for some notes, the great delicacy and liability to deiange-
ment of the mechanism, have something to do with thi« In Eng.
land especially, the ordinary Hute reUins many partisans, thanks tq
the improvements introduced by a clover player, Abel Siccama, in
1S45 " He bored the lateral holes of E and A lower, and covered
them with open keys. He added some keys, and made a better
disposition of the other lateral hqjes, of which he increased the
diameter, producing thus a sonorousness almost equal to that of
the Boehm flute, while yet preserving the old' fingering for the
notes of the first two octaves. But in spite of these improvements
the old flute will not bear an impartial comparison with that o(
Boehm.
(V M.)
TRANSYLVANIA (Germ. Sicbmburgen), a mountain-
ous principality (Gross-Fiirstenthum) forming the extreme
eastern portion of Austria-Hungary, is bounded on the
W. and N. by Hungary proper, on the E. by Bukowina
and Moldavia, and on the S. by Walachia. Tlie German
name is usually derived from the seven principal fortified
towns or "burgs" founded by the German colonists,
though some authorities prefer to connect it with the Zibin
Mountains on the south frontier. The Latin name appears
first after the 12th century, and signifies "beyond the
woods," i.e., fiom Hungary , the Magyar and Roumanian
names (Erdely and Ardealu) both mean " forest-land."
For all political and administrative ends, and in the ofiicial
statistics and returns, Transylvania is now wholly incor-
porated with HuNQiRV (q.v.), and to all intents and pur-
poses is a part of that kingdom. The principality has the
form of an irregular circle, with an area of about, 21,000
square miles, and is on all sides surrounded by mountain
chains, wTiile the interior is barred and striped with lower
ranges. On the west or Hungarian side there are various
wide and comparatively easy passes into the interior, but on
the east and south frontiers the lofty bounding mountains
present steep and rugged faces outwards, giving to Transyl-
vania the general aspect of a huge natural fortress. These
mountains are a continuation of the Hungarian and
Galician Carpathians ; in fact, the mountains of Transyl-
vania may be regarded together as forming the south-
eastern main group of the Carpathian system. The
loftiest and most rugged peaks are on the north and south
boundaries. On the north the highest summit is the
Pietross (75.34 feet), one of the Rod.ia Alps , on the south
are the Butshetsh (82C2 feet), the Konigstein (7357 feet),
and the Negoi (8340 feet). The ea'st is bounded by
several parallel chains, the highest peak in which is the
Pietrossul (6910 feet) ; and on the west border the greatest
height is attained towards the south, where several peaks
reach 7200 feet. On the west are the Transylvanian
Ore Mountaiiis (Erzgebirge), with the curious Detunata
(" thunder-smit "), and the Bihar group, with its numerous
paverns. There are numerous valleys, ravines, and canons
in the network of mountains covering the interior of the
country, but it is only along the courses of the principal
rivers that plains of any size are found. The chief rivers
are the Aluta or Alt, which flows south, pierces the
southern boundary mountains at tlie Rother Thurm Pass,
I Vl'^ s»|stcd lone before, tiowevtr, in the Chinese Ty and the Japanese Fuy.
0 The reader ijny consult with adventarre Ml- C Welch's ff.j/ory of the &.Mi»
null (Umdon. 1SS3), wherein all the documents relaUng to this interesting dl.-
cnssion have been collected with creat impui-tiality.
If" See the Esia^ on the Construction ttf Flutes, already cited
" Patent, No. 10563.
XXIIL
66
522
T R A — T R A
and joins the Danube, and the Maros, to the west, and the
Szarios, to the north, both tributaries of the Theiss, which
also falls into the Danube. All these are navigable, and are
fed by various tributaries. The largest lake is the Hodoser
or Eseger See, 13 miles long. Transylvania abounds in
mineral springs of all kinds, especially saline and chaly-
beate. The climate is tolerably .severe : hot summers alter-
'nate with very cold winters ; but the rainfall is not great.
The mineral wealth of Transylvania is very considerable; Gold
is found- in certain quantity in mines, and it is also "washed" in
some of the streams, chiefly by Gipsies. The gold is often found
in conjunction with tellurium (first discovered in Transylvania in
1782, and until the present century not found anywhere else, see
Telluridm). Silver, copper, lead, and iron are also worked to
some profit. Coal occurs in considerable abaudance, and it is
mined in the Schilthalj but the superabundance of timber has re-
tarded its exploitation. Hills largely formed of pure salt are met
with here and there, and there are also very rich Birbterranean
deposits of salt, sometimes cropping up on the surface. Some of the
saline springs also yield salt enough to render their evaporation
proBtable. The vegetation of Transylvania is lu.vuriant, except of
course in the higher mountain zones. Fruits abound, as apples,
pears, peaches, apricots, plums, cherries, chestnuts, and almonds ;
mulberries are also cultivated. The vine flourishes best io the
valley of the Maros. Agincnlture is one of the most important
industries, though the available good land is by no means fully
taken up. The chief crop is maize ; but wheat, rye, and other
grains, potatoes, saffron, hemp, flax, and tobacco are also grown.
Extensive forests clothe much of the country, but are in a some-
what neglected condition. On the boundary mountains the trees
are mainly coniferous ; in the ijiterior oakg^ elms, beeches, and
ashes aro conspicuous.
The forests afford cover for tnany wild animala Bears, wolves,
foxes, boars, and various varieties of game are found, and on some
of the mountains the chamois. There is abundant pasturage on
which excellent cattle are reared ; and in some districts buHaloes
are bred for draught purposes. More important is the breeding of
a sturdy race of horses, tliousands of which are annually exported.
The mountains maintain very large flocks of sheep, of which two
kinds are distinguished — with a fine short-stapled and a coarse
long-stapled wool respectively. Silkworms are bred, and some silk
is spun ; and the export of honey and wax, from both wild and
domestic bees, is not inconsiderable. Neither the means of com-
munication with the external world nor the manufacturing industry
in Transylvania is developed to any important extent; the latter,
indeed, has to a certain extent gone back. The most industrious
and in general the most advanced of the population are the
"Saxons ; and trade, the great bulk of which is with Roumania,
is mainly in the hands of Armenians and Greeks. The chief com-
mercial centres and principal towns are Herrmannstadt, Eroustadt,
Bistritz, and Szamos-TJjvar.
Perhaps the most interesting point in connexion with Transyl-
vania is the variety of its population, which in 1880 numbered
2,084,048 in all. Until 1848 the chief influence and privileges, as
well as the only political rights, were divided among the three
"privileged nations" of the Hungarians, Szeklers, and Saxons.
The first are the descendants of the Magyar conquerors. The
Szeklers, i.e., "guardians," chiefly on the east borders, settled in
eastern Transylvania to act as guardians of the frontiers. The
Saxons are the posterity of the German immigrants brought by
King Geisa II. {1141-1161) from Flanders and the lower Rhine to
cultivate and repeople his desolated territories. At first these were
known as Teutones, Teutonic! Hospites, and Flandrenses, but since
the beginning of the 13th century the general name of "Saxons,"
as tantamount to "Germans," has prevailed {cf. Saxony, vol. xxL
p. 351). The Hungarians and Szeklers together number 609,208,
and the Saxons 204,713, but by far the most numerous element,
though long excluded from power and political equality, is formed
by the Walachians or Roumanians, 1,146,611 in number, a mixed
race, not entitled to the descent which they claim from the early
Roman colouists of Dacia. The Gipsies of Transylvania, who are
heard of under a voivode or prince of their own in 1417, are esti-
mated at 46,460: many of tnem have abandoned a nomadic life
and have taken to agriculture or gold-washing. Jews, Armenians,
Bulg-irians, Ruthenians, and Greeks are also represented in the
medley of peoples. About 70,000 (chiefly children) are returned,
nnclasred, as "not able to speak " The Magyars aro mostly
Roman Catholics or Unitarians, the Germans Protestants, and the
Boumanians adherents of the Greek Church.
Transylvania formed part of the Roman province of Dacia.
After the withdrawal of the Romans J.he country became for
centuries the prey of the various peoples who. swept across it in
their restless migrations. At the beginning of the 11th century
(1004) Stephen I. of Hungary made himself master of the land,
irbicb was thenceforward governed as an Huiignrian province by a
voivode. In 1538 the voivodc, John Zapolya, succeeded in render-
ing himself independent, and he and his successors, who were-
generally elected by the people, were supported by the Turks
against the house of Austria, while the difficult nature of their
country preserved them on the other hand from becoming too
dependent on their powerful allies- After the defeat of the Turks
at Vienna in 1683, their influence in Transylvania waned, and in
1699, by the peace of Carlowitz, the Porto acknowledged the
suzerainty of Leopold I. of Austria over Transylvania. By the Leo-
poldine diploma of 1691 Leopold had guaranteed the ancient rights
and laws of the land, and united it formally with the Hungarian
crown. Ij 1766 Maria Theresa made it agrand principality (Gross-
Fiirstenlhum). The eflorts of the Roumanian inhsbitants to'
secure recognition as a fourth " nation," and th« opposition of the
uon-Magyar population to a closer union -with Hungary, led to
troubles and disagreement early in the 19th century, culminating
in bloody internecine struggles in 1848. In 1849 Ti-ansylvania
was divided from Hungary by an imperial decree, and became an
Austrian crown-laud ; but in 1860 the old order was renewed,
and tl ? complete incorporation with Hungary was perfected in
1868. Since that time the policy of the Hungarian party has on
the whole prevailed, and the Magyarization of the principality, is
steadily being carried through, in spite of the bitter protests and
discontent of both the Saxons and Roumanians. An Hungarian
university was founded at Klausenburg in 1872; and Hungarian is
recognized as the official language. (F. MU.)
TRAPANI, a seaport of Italy, capital of the province
of Trapani, and an episcopal see, lies on the extreme
north-west coast of Sicily, 19 miles to the north-north-east
of Marsala and 4 miles to the west^south-west of Monte
St Giuliano. It lies on a sandy peninsula resembling a
sickle (whence the name, from ipmavov), projecting west-
ward and concave- towards the north. It is a place of
considerable enterprise ; the streets are, comparatively
speaking, regularly built and well kept ; and the popula-
tion are above the average in industry and inteUigence.
The town is still surrounded by a wall with bastions.
Some of the mediseval houses are. interesting architec-
turally, but none of the public buildings require special
notice. Among the institutions of Trapani may be men-
tioned the lyceum (with natural history collection and
picturfe gallery), the gymnasium, the technical and navi-
gation schools, and the library. Some of the churches
contain choice works of art. The industries of the place
include linen manufacture and works in coral, wood, iron,
marble, alabaster, mother-of-pear^ ; there are also extensive
salt lagoons in the immediate neighbourhood, and there is
considerable traflBc in salt, soda, sulphur, and grain. The
harbour, on the south-west side of the sickle, is sheltered
by a mole and protected by a fort in the islet of Colum-
bara ; it has a lighthouse at the entrance, and is accessible
to vessels of about 400 tons. The population in 1881 was
32,020.
Trapani, the ancient Drepanvm or Drcpana, was the seaport of
Eryx (see Eryx and MoNTB San Giuliano), and is reprtbcnted
by Virgil as the scene of the death of Anchlses, and of the funeral
games celebrated in his honour. Towards the beginning of the
First Punic War (c. 260 E.G.) it was made a fortress by llamilcar
Barca, who removed hither the greater number of the inhabitants
of Eryx, the remainder being transferred in 249. It fell into the
hands of the Romans at the end of the war, and does not figuro
again in ancient history. It appears, however, to have continued
to flourish as a commercial town, being mentioned both by Cicero-
and by Pliny In the Middle Ages it became a royal residence.
TRAPPISTS. The abbey of Notre Dame de la Maison-
Dieu de la Trappe was founded in 1140 by Kotrou, count
of Perche, at Soh'gny-la-Trappe, a village of Haut-Perche,
now in the arrondissement of Mortagne, department of
the Orne, so named from the narrow gorge which iorwa
its entrance, comparable to a trap-door. It was at fir.^t
attached to the congregation of Savigny, a minor olf-
shoot of the order of Fontevrault, but that congregation
was- united in 1148 to the Cistercian order, and, by
the special intervention of St Bernard, was afliliated,.
with all its dependencies, to his own abbey of Clairvaux.
No medi;r-val monastic order fell more rapidly anif
signally from the spirit of its. original iustitute than tL;
TRAPPIST8
523
Cistercian, afld La Trappe formed no exceptioQ to the
general decay. Indeed, its geographical position in a
district fiercely contested during the long war between
France and England hastened its declension, for it was
several times taken and pillaged, while the members of the
community, at last compelled to break up and disperse,
returned at the close of the war with their traditions
interrupted, their discipline relaxed, and their moral tone
deteriorated. Xor was this the worst. The introduction
of the "commendam" system into the French Church,
whereby secular ecclesiastics were empowered to hold
monastic benefices without residence or conformity to the
rule of the society in which they ranked as beads, wrought
yet further mischief , and, though the Trappists at first
endeavoured to resist Jean du Bellay, the celebrated
bishop of Paris (afterwards cardinal-bishop of Ostia),
whom Francis I. nominated in 1526 as abbot commend-
atory, and were upheld by the pope in continuing to elect
their own abbots, yet their efforts were fruitless, and Du
Bellay was succeeded by a series of titular abbots, under
whose nominal rule the estates of the abbey were impov-
erished, the buildings suffered to fall into nearly total ruin,
and the conduct of the monks became a public scandal.
In fact, the community was broken up, the dismantled
monastic buildings were abandoned to a few domestics and
their families, and the scattered Trappists seldom reas-
sembled save for hunting parties and similar amusements.
Such was the condition of things when a reformer arose
iu the person of one of those very abbots commendatory
who had been the ruin of the institute.
Arniand Jean Bouthillier de Ranc^, second son of Denis
Bouthillier de Ranc6 and Charlotte Joly his wife, was
born in Paris on January 9, 1626. By his father's side
he was sprung from a patrician family of Breton origin
long settled in Normandy ; by his mother's he was con-
nected with powerful members of the official hierarchy.
His near kindred were wealthy, titled, and highly placed
in the magistracy, the army, and the dignities of the
church , while the fact that Cardinal Richelieu was one of
his sponsors and gave him his own fore-names sufficiently
attests the political influence just then at their disposal
The child showed early tokens of considerable abilities,
and was intrusted by his father to accomplished tutors,
under whom he made rapid progress. lie was originally
intended to enter the order of the Knights of Malta, but
the death of his elder brother in 1637, after a long illness,
changed his father's plans, and the child (who had been
tonsured in 1635 by way of precaution against such a
contingency) was at once put in possession of the various
benefices which had been secured for his elder ; so that,
while still under eleven years of age, he was canon of
Notre Dame de Paris, abbot of La Trappe, of Notre Dame
du Val, and of St Svmphorian of Beauvais, and prior of
Boulogne, near Chambord, and of St Clementin, in Poitou.
In 1642 he was sent to the College d'Harcourt, where he
began the usual course of philosophy, but addicted himself
almost at once to the then popular study of judicial astro-
logy, which he soon forsook for the cognate delusion of
alchemy. Nevertheless, he distinguished himself in the
more accredited studies of the college, and graduated as
M.A. in 1644. It was then usual for Parisian students in
theology to attend the course of lectures delivered at the
Sorbonoe, but De Rancc preferred to return home and
pursue his theological studies under private instruction
He was ordained dtacon in 1648, and, being in the hey-
tlay of youth, with high spirits and po|nilar manners, fell
readily into the dissipations of the time, leading a very
irregular life, yet not so as to forfeit the goodwill of even
his stricter acquaintance. He was ordained priest in 1651,
but made no alteration iu his habits, and yet so far kept
up his studies that, when examined m 1652 for his licence
as bachelor in theology, he came out at the head of the
candidates, while the famous Bossnet ranked only as third.
In 1653 he lost his father, who bequeathed pioperty to
him which doubled his already large income, and in 1654
he graduated as doctor of divinity, when his uni^la, tht
archbishop of Tours, made him one of his archdeiicons,
hinting that this preferment would be merely the prelim-
inary of a mitre. He never so much as pretended tc
discharge the duties of his new office, but spent his time
amusing himself at his chateau of V^retz ; in despite ot
which his uncle nominated him as deputy from the
diocese of Tours to the general assembly of the French
clergy convoked by the king in 1655 to discuss the
Jansenist controversy. The chief matter of interest ia
this connexion is that he was one of the minority of 65
doctors of the Sorbonne who refused to vote, with the
majority of 127, a censure upon the Jansenist leader
Arnauld, though he took part later against that school.
The sudden death of the duchess of Rohan-Montbazon,
with whom he was intimate, and whose relations with huu
were the subject of much hostile comment, is said to have
been the first great shock which began the process' of
change inhis views of life and duly. A story, which was
first given currency in an anonymous account of his con-
version published at Cologne in 1668, much heightens this,
by alleging that De Ranc6 arrived at the duchess's houss
unaware of her death, and went direct to her apartment
without being warned by the servants, only to find her
head lying apart from her decapitated body, having been
cut off becanise the cofl'in was too short abd there was no
time to procure another The truth of this story (itself
containing several improbable incidents) was promptly
denied by Maupeou, the earliest of De Ranch's biogra-
phers, and has been rejected by Bayle and St Simon,
though accepted by La Harpe and Voltaire. What is cer-
tain is that the alteration in his habits nearly synchronizes
with the death of Madame de Montbazon, and that the
years 1657, 1658, and 1659 were mainly spent in solitary
studies or in visits to the monasteries of which he was
titular head, varied by conferences with eminent ecclesi-
astics whose advice be sought, while in 1660 the death
of the duke of Orleans, whose chief almoner, he was,
appears to have given the final direction to his thoughts,
though it was not for some years that he carried out his
new plans to the full. His first resolution was to sell
his patrimony and resign his benefices, and in 1662 he
actually sold his chateau of V^retz, made over two man-
sions in Paris to the hOtel-dieu, and obtained permission
to transfer all his abbeys except Boulogne and La Trappe
to resident heads chosen by himself. His canonry of Notre
Dame had been resigned so far back as 1653 because of
some difficulty about residence. After making provision
for family claims, and retaining a comparatively small sura
for the repair of Boulogne and La Trappe, he distributed
the remainder of his property to the poor. In 1662 ho
visited La Trappe, which he found in a deplorable condi
tion, and the few resident monks -so Indisposed to listen
to his projects of reform that they threatened to murder
him and throw his body into the abbey ponds. In his
turn he threatened them with the king's direct interfer-
ence, and such was the terror of Louis XIV.'s name that
they at once submitted, and consented to retire upon the
payment of a moderate pension , whareupon De Ranc^
filled their places in 1663 with monks of tl'e .strict
Cistercian observance, and carefully repaired the monastic
buildings there and at Boulogne. Ia \hat same year he
finally decided to enter the monaetic life, aBd began his
noviciate at the Cistercian abbey of Perseiglie in Maine,
as.suinin£. on Ui.< yrofe-ssiuii in 1664. the actual headship
524
TRAP F IS T S
of the abbey of La lYa^i^o, whose uoramal abbot .he had
been for nearly thirty years. , Associating himself with
other personages who desired to revive the Cistercian dis-
cipline, he made two journeys to Rome to obtain papal
sanction for their plans, and after considerable delay a
brref w^S procured from Alexander VII. authorizing the
abbot of Citeaux, as general of the Cistercians, to hold a
grand chapter of the order to discuss the proposed reforms,
which actually did meet in 1667. But De Ranch's ideas
went much beyond the mere re-establishment of the strict
observance ; and, though he judged some details of the
original rule unsuited to his own day, and blended with it
t.omi; particulars borrowed from the Benedictine rule, yet .
ht; was so far from diminishing its general austerity that
hi! added to the protracted fasts, the total abstinence
from flesh-meat, fish, eggs, and wine, the laborious manual
ocrupations, the hard beds, and the severe asceticism, even
in the church services, which made part of the original
rule, also the obligation of perpetual silence, save at prayers
(to which eleven hours daily are devoted), and save also
the " Memento mori " with which the Trappists greet each
other on first meeting, which is the distinguishing feature
of La Trappe, a rule from which none are dispensed save
the abbot and the guest-master, as obliged to hold some
degree of intercourse with outsiders ; and he further or-
dained that each monk should spend some time each even-
ing digging his own grave, and should sleep on straw in
his coffin for a bed. These austerities, though cheerfully
embraced by the monks of La' Trappe, and attracting
enthusiasts from without, were far from being approved
generally, even in the Cistercian order itself, and, when a
decree was issued by the council of state in 167^5 giving
the abbot of Crteaux absolute authority over all Cistercians
of the strict observance, De Ranc6 took alarm, and, think-
ing it possible that an attempt might be made to mitigate
the severities he had introduced (particularly as the mor-
tality amongst the members of his society had been very
large, and was currently attributed to insufljcient nutri-
ment), induced them to renew their vows and to pledge
thems'elves against the aduiission of any relaxations. Nor
was he content with opj)Osip? this kind of resistance >.o
the bishops, abbots, and others who remonstrated with
him upon the subject, but he also took up his pen in
-defence of his views, and published in 1683 his treatise
De la Sainlete et (Us Devoirs de In Vie Monnshque, which
involved him in much controversy, notably with the
learned Benedictine Mabillon, who replied to him in his
well-known work Trade des Etudes Monasttques, published
in 1691. Advancing years and unremitting asceticism
told even on the strong constitution of De Ranee, and lie
found himself unable to take his share of the manual
labours of the house, or evi/n to be present in chapter, so
that in 1695 he felt obliged to resign the abbacy, and pro-
cured the nomination of the prior Zosimus to succeed him,
but he died before the arrival of the bulls for his instal-
lation, and Dom Francis Armand was substituted in his
room, and inducted into office in 1696. He proved a
failure as a ruler, and La Trappe broke up into two fac-
tions during his headship, some holding to him and
others to De Ranee, till the new abbot resigned in a fit of
disgust of which he soon i^epented, but could not succeed
in recalling his abdication. Dom Jacques de la Tour, a
man in sympathy with De Ranc6, was then nominated by
the crown, and while he was still abbot De Ranee died,
on October 20, 1700, in the seventy-fifth year of his age.
De Rance was a tolerably cofrious author, though most
of his writings were little more than occasional pamphlets
■suggested by the controversies in which he was engaged,
;fhort devotional treatises, and notices of deceased members
•of his coilirtitinity, but his reputation for ability and scholar-
ship was never contested, ' tie was a successful admini-
strator, and, though the extreme severity of his institute
resulted in the failure of fully six-sevenths of the postu-
lants who presented themselves, he gathered round him
during his government of the abbey no fewer than three
hundred ascetics, French, Belgians, Germans, Italians, -and
Irishmen, oije.third of whom were drawn from leas aostere
communities or from the ranks of the parochial clergy an^
candidates for the priesthood. Qf lay outsiders who joined
him, the largest proportion cobsisted of rural artisans and
labourers, and of soldiers, froid' officer to private (a class
for which La Trappe has always continued to have attrac-
tions), with a small sprinkling of the legal profession {
while two physicians and a single tradesmap complete the
ta]e of those who persevered out of the \,^o thonsand'or
so who presented themselves. No daughtS' houses were
founded from La Trappe during De Ranch's- Ufe, for, though
he was ready enough to send some of his liionks for a time
or even permanently to revive the Cistercian discipline in
other monasteries, he was opposed on principle to every
scheme which tended to drain the resources of La Trappe
itself, and it was not till 1705 that the first offshoot of the
Trappists was planted at Buon-Solazzo, near Florence, at
the solicitation of Cosmo III., grarid-duke ol Tuscany.
No remarkable events occurred in connexion with La
Trappe till the French Revolution, when the order waa
included in the geueral suppression of monastic societies
by the Constituent Assembly in 1790. Even then the higt
character borne by Ln Trappe, and honourably distin-
guishing it from too many monasteries at that time, seemed
likely to exempt it from the common fate, and great efforts
were made to obtain its exclusion from the operation of
the decree. A petition addressed by the Trappists to the
National Assembly was referred to the council:general of
the department of the Ome at A-len^on, which reported
against it to the ecclesiastical committee of the assembly,
though admitting that all the locU municipalities which
they had consulted were in favour of sparing the abbey.
Dom Augustin (Louis Henri L'E^trange), at that time
master of -the novices, foreseeing the result of the inqairy.i
went to Switzerland to provide a refuge for tht brethren,'
and obtained permission from the authorities of canton
Freiburg to take possession of Val Sainle, an unoccupied
Cistercian monastery, and to bring no more than twenty-'
fi"ve persons thither. This necessitated leaving more than
a hundred at La Trappe to await the coming etorm, wlich
burst upon Trinity Sunday, llune 3, 1792, when com-
missioners seized all the movable goods scheduled in their
inventory, and compelled the inmates to disperse. Some
betook themselves to ^leure ; a few retired singly into
private dwellings ; but jvarious groups set out together to
found colonies in Spain, IGermany, England, and Canada ;
while the earlier Swiss a6d Tyrolese houses were compelled
to break tip and seek refuge elsewhere from the French
invaders. But amidst all didiculties and discouragements
the order not merely maintained itself, but grew and
strengthened, and in 1808 ventured to plant anew two
houses in France itself. This same year, however, saw the
division of the order into two congregations, becau.sc the
Trappists of Darfeld, under their prior Eugene de Prade,
resisted what they considered to be the. excessive demands
made upon them by the ab^ot of the order, that very
L'Estrange who had led out the colony of Val-Sainte (knd
vv'ho had been constituted its head, and that of the whole
society, by a brief of Pius VI ^n 1794), and the dispute
was appealed to Rome, with the result thati in June 1808
judgment was given against L'Estrange, and Darfeld was
erected into an independent abbey under De Prade M
abbsjt, and subjected to the jurisdiction of the bishop of
, Minister. Nearly every Trappist house at this date was
T R A — T R E
525^
within Napoleon's dominions, and, as the order sided with
the pop^ against the emperor, the latter expelled its monks
from all monasteries in the empire, and imprisoned not a
few of them. With his fall they revived again, and ob-
tained permission to return to France, whither between
1S14 and 1825 they drifted back from most of their places
of exile, though 1450 were expelled anew in 18S0 under
the operation of the Ferry laws. La Trappa itself was
repurchased by L'Estrange, and became once more the
mother house, while there are fifteen other French mon-
asteries of the order, four Belgian, two English (Mount St
Bernard, Leicestershire, and Stape Hill, Dorset), two in
Ireland, one each in Germany, Savoy, and Algiers, two in
Italy, two (Gethsemane in Kentucky and New Melleray
in Iowa) in the United States, and one originally settled
in Pennsylvania, but now at Tracadie in Nova Scotia. An
order of Trappistine nuns was founded by Dom Augustin
in 1827, and has nine French houses and one English. The
total numbers are computed at 3000 members of both sexes.
The bibliography relating to De Ranee Snd the Trappists is
copious, and the foUoTing list is not exhaustive. Savary (Bishop
of Seez), Imago H, P.. Bom. Am, Joaiu U Bmdkillier cU Raiue,
Ahbatis de Trappa, 1701 ; Maupeoo, Vit de M. VAbbi dc la Trappe,
Paris, 1702; Marsollicr, Vie ae I' Abbi BoiUhillUr dt Rand, Paris,
1702; La Nain (brothir of Tillemont), VU dc Le Boulhillicr dc
Jiajic^, Abbe ct Jie/oTmaieur de ta Trappc, Rouen, 1715; Inguimbert,
Genuiniis Character J/, Arm. Joannis Buiiilieri Katic&i, Rome,
1718; Charles Butler, '.'Life of De Ranee," ifisccllanies, vol. iii.,
' LoodoD, 1817 ; Dubois; Hisloire de ^ Abbe De FUince U de sa Refon''e_^
2 vols., Paris, 1866; Pelibien, Descriplian de la Trappc, PSH ,
1672; Helyot and Badiche, Histctre dea Ordres Jieligicux, art. " La
Trappe," Paris, 1859 ; Wetzer and W'clte, Kirchenlexicon, art. " Trap-
Jjisten," Freiburg, 1849. (R F. L.)
TRAS-OS-MONTES {i.e., " Behind the Mbantains ") is
thfe north-east frontier province of Portugal, situated on the
other side of the Serra de Marao from Oporto. On the
W. it is bounded by Entre Miaho e Douro, and on the S.
by Beira. The area is 4260 square miles, and the popula-
tion increased from 393,279 in 1878 to 396,676 in 1881.
Physically the province is a mountainous plateau, the most
elevated in Portugal, and characterized by the picturesque-
ness and wildness of its scenery. Monte Zinho reaches a
height of 7445 feet. Vast tracts are covered with heath ;
but in certain parts the soil is fertile, and the rich wine-
growing district on the upper Douro (Alto Douro) is the
native couutry of port. Silk-growing is also carried on ;
and wheat, rye, hemp, and flax appear among the exports.
The province#i3' divided iiito the two adninistrative dis-
tricts of Villa Real and Braganza. Besides the two towns
thus named, two only, Chaves and Miranda do Douro, are
of any considerable size.
TRAVANCORE, a native state in Madras presidency',
India, between 8° 4' and 10° 22' N. lat. and between 76°
12' and 77° 38' E.^long., with an area of 6730 square miles.
It is bounded on the N. by the native state of Cochin,
on the E. by the British districts of Madura and Tinnevelli,
and on the S. and W. by the Indian Ocean. This state
is described as one of the most picturesque portions of
southern India. Its most marked physical feature is
furnished by the Western Chits, which rise to an elevation
of 8000 feet and are clothed with magnificent primeval
forest ; they throw out spurs towards the coast, along
which there is a belt of flat country of about 10 miles in
width, covered with an almost unbroken mass of cocoa-
nut and areca palms, which to a great extent constitute
the wealth of the country. The whole surface is undulat-
ing, and presents a series of bills and valleys traversed
from east to west by many rivers, the floods of which,
arrested by the peculiar action of the Arabian Sea on the
coast, spread themselves out into lagoons or backwaters,
connected heje and there by artificial canals, and forming
ftu inland Una of smooth-water communication for nearly
the whole length of the coast. "^ The chief river is the-
Periyir, which is navigable for 60 miles ; other important
rivers are the Pambai and its tributary the Achinkoil, the
Kallada, and the Western TAmbraparni. Iron is abundant.
Elephants are numerous, and tigers, leopards, bears, bison,
elk, and various kinds of deer abound in the forests. The
state possesses some good roads, and, on the whole, internal
communication is tolerably complete. Travancore has an
abundant rainfall, with every variety of climate and
temperature.
In 1881 the population of Travancore was found to number
2,401,I58 (males 1,197,134, females 1,204,024), of whom 1,755,61»
wcreHindus.146.909 Jlohanimedans, and 493,542 Christians. The
chief towns are Trivanduum (7 t'.), the capital, Aleppi, the com-
mercial centre and chief seaport of the state, and Quilon, another
seaport and military beadtiuarters. Among the principal articles
which the state produces are rice, cocoa-nut palm, pepper, ai-eca-
nut, cardamoms, tamarind, cotTee, timber, tc. The manufactures
comprise cocoa-nut, gingelly, lemon-grais, and laurel oils, jaggery
and molasses, salt, arrack, cotton cloths and yarns, pottery, and
coir yarn, rope, and Oiatting. Its revenue in 1884-85 was esti-
mated at £640,548. Travancore state is in subsidiary alliance with
the British Government, to which it pays a tribute of £80,000 a
year. It is one of the few states which have never turned against
the British. Under the enlightened rule of the late maharajah the
country made great progress, and it now stands very high among
native states. It is free from debt, and has a surplus of revenue
over expenditure. The sovereignty as well as the inheritance of
property passes in the female line.
TRAWLING. See Fisheries.
TREASON. The law which punishes treason is a
■necessary consequence of the idea of a state, and is essen-
tial to the existence of the state. Most, if not all, nations
have accordingly, at an early period of their history, made
provision by legislation or otherwise for the punishment
of those offences against public order which consist in
more or less direct attacks upon the safety of the state or
its chief. The principle is universal; it is the applica-
tion of the principle wjhich leads to differences of opinion.
What would have been a capital crime at Rome under
Tiberius may be no offence at all in England. It is to the
advantage of both the state and the citizen that what is
treason and what is not should be clearly defined, so that
as little as possible discretionary power, apt to be strained
in times of popular excitement, should be left to the
judicial or executive authorities. The importance of this
was seen by Montesquieu. Vagueness in the crime of
treason, says he, is suGBcient to make the government
degenerate into despotism.' At the same time, it may be
observed that despotic Governments have not always left
the crime undefined. . The object of Henry VIII., for
instance, was rather to define it as closely as possible by
making certain acts treason which would not have been so
without such definition. In both ancient' and modem
history treason has generally been a crime prosecuted by-
exceptional procedure, and visited with afflictive as dis-
tinguished from simple punishments (to uje the termino-.
logy of Bentham).
In Roman law the offences originally falling under tha
head of treason were almost exclusively those committed
in military service, such as in England would be dealt
with under the Army Act. The very .name perdueltio, the
name of the crime in the older Roman law, is a proof of
this. PerduelUi were, Strictly, public enemies who bore
arms against the state ; and traitors were regarded as
having no more rights than public enemies. The Twelve
Tables made it punishable with death to communicate with
the enemy or to betray a citizen to the enemy.. Other
kinds of perdueliio were punished by interdiction of fir*
and water. The crime was tried before a special tribunal,
the duumviri perduellionU, perhaps the earliest pertnanent
criminal court existing at Rome. At a later peridd tha._
' Eepril dtt /'tit, Hl loL L T.
526
TEE A SO N
name of perdueUio gave place to that of Isesa ' majestas, ,
deminu'.a or minuta 'majfsia&, or simply majestas. The lex
Julia majestatis, to which the date of '48 B.C. has beea,
coDJectorilly assigned, continued to be 'the- basis of the:
Komao law of treason until the latest period of the empire.
The original text of the law appears .to have still dealt
with what were chieliy military offences, such as sending
letters or messages to the enemy, giving up a standard
or fortress, and desertion. With the empire the law of
mcyeslas received an enormous development, mainly in the
reign of Tiberius, and led to the rise of a class of pro-
fessional informers, called delatores} The conceptioQ of
the emperor as divine - had much to do with this. It
became a maxim that treason was next to sacrilege ' in
gravity. The law as it existed in the time of Justinian is
contained chiefly in the titles of the Digest* and Code^
"AdUgevi Juliam majestatis." The defioition given in the
Digest (taken from Ulpian) is this : "majestatis crimen illud
est quod adversus populimi Roniauuu- vel adversus securi-
tatem ejtis committitur." Of treasons other than military
offences, some of the more noticeable were the raising of
an army or levying war without the command of. the
emperor, the questioning of the emperor's choice of a suc-
cessor, the murder of (or conspiracy to murder) hostages
or certain magistrates of high rank, the occupation of public
places, the meeting within the city 6f persons hostile to
the .state with weapons or stones, incitement to sedition
or administration of unlawful oaths, release of prisoners
justly confined, falsification of public documents, and
failure of a provincial governor to quit his province at
the expiration of his office or to deliver his army to his
succesior. The intention (voluntas) was punishable as
much as an overt act {effectus),^ The reported opinions as
to what was not treason show the lengths to which the
theory of treason must have been carried by at least some
person in authority. -It was not treason to repair a statue
of the emperor which had decayed from age, to hit such a
statue with a stone thrown by chance, to melt down such
a statue if unconsecrated, to use mere verbal insults
against the emperor, to fail in keeping an oath sworn by
the emperor, or to decide a case contrary to an imperial
constitutioiL ^Treason was one of the " publica judicia," i.e.,
one of those crimes in which 'any citizen was entitled to
prosecute. The law went further than this, and deprived
the accused in a charge of treason of his ordinary remedy
for malicious prosecution. It also took from him the
privilege (which those accused of other crimes generally
possessed) from accusation by women or infamous persons,
from liability to be put to the torture, and from having
his slaves tortured against him (see Toktdre). The
punishment from the time of Tiberius was death (usually
by beheading)' and confiscation of property, coupled with
complete civil disability. A traitor could not make a will
or a gift or emancipate a slave. Even the death of the
accused, if guilty of treason of the gravest kind, such as
levying war against the state, did not extinguish the
charge, but the memory of the deceased became infamous,
find his property was forfeited as though he had been con-
victed in his lifetime. . _
' See Men vale, Hist, of the Rojnans vnder the Empire, vol. iii.
p. 407, vol. V. p. 141.
■ '* PriDcipes instar deorum es3e" are the words of Tacitus.
' Tliis crime was called tiesa majestas diviiia in later law.
■• jlv.ii 4. ' ix. 8.
* A BunLlar provision v.-as contained in the Golden Bull of Charles
iV. c. 24. In English law, wjth the onu exception of a statute of
Kijjhard II (21 Ric. 11. c. 3) repealed in the first year ot Kenr;- J v..
fin overt act has always been necessarf. The difficulty of ptcving a
mere intention is obvious. In French and Germaa law the overt act
(flttetit^t or Untcmekinen) is aa ioAispensable as in English.
' To harbour a fugitive enemy waa punishable only by deportation,
Dig., i;lrii'u 19, 40.
The law of England corresponds to a considerable
extent with Roman law ; in fact, treason is made bj
Blackstone the equivalent of the mmen Issx majestatis.
The history of the crime in the two systems agrees in thii
that in both the law was settled by l^lslation at a com
paratively early period, and subsequently developed b] •
judicial constructiotL . In both, too, there were exceptiona
features distinguishing this crime from other offences.!
For instance, at common law treason was not bailablj
(except by the Queen's Bench) or clergyable, could not h{
cleared by sanctuary, and did not admit of accessories, fol
all were principals, nor could a married woman pleac
coercion by he^ husband. To stand mute and refuse tc
plead did not save the lands of the accused, as it did in
felony, so- that the " peine forte et dure " (see Toetdre) wa<
unnecessary in treason. These severities were due to tht
conception of treason as a breach of the oath of allegiance.
Other differences introduced by statute will be mentioned
later. In some cases a statute simply afiSrmcd the common
law, as did the Statute of Treasons to a great extent, and
as did 26 Hen. VIII. c. 13, depriving those accused ot
treason of the benefit of sanctuary. How far the Roman
law was consciously imitated in England it is impossible
to determiii&.'It was certainly not adopted to its full
extent, for many acts were majestas which were never
treason, even in the most despotic periods. Treason was
the subject of legislation in many of the pre-Conquest
codes. The laws of Alfred " and yEthelred '" punished with
death any one plotting_ against the life of the king. ' Soon
after the Conquest th\2 Leges Ifenrici Primi^^ put ary one
slaying the king's messenger in the king's mercy. The
crime was shortly defined by Glanvill '- and at greater
length by Bracton,'^ who follows Boman law closely. He,
includes under treason sedition and coining. Treasonl
seems to have rested chiefly, if not wholly, upon common
law until the year 1352, when the famous Statute of;
Treasons (25 Edw. III. st. 5, c. 2) was passed^ The
statute appears to have arisen from a petition of the
Commons in 1348, praying for a definition of the offence
of accroaching royal power, a charge on which several
persons — notably Gaveston and the Despencers — had
suffered. The offences made treason by the statute are
these : — (1) to compass or imagine '* the .death of the
king,'* the queen, or their eldest son and heir ; (2) to
violate tho king's companion, or his eldest daughter
unmarried, or the wife of his eldest son anc> heir ; (3) to
levy war against the king in his realm, or be adherent tc
the. king's enemies in his realm, giving them aid and com-
fort in the realm or elsewhere ; (4) to counterfeit the
king's great or privy seal or his money ; (5) to bring false
money into the realm, counterfeit to the money of Eng-
land, as the money called Lushburgh," knowing the money
to be false ; (6) to slay the chancellor, treasurer, or the
king's justices of the one bench or the other, justices in
eyre, or justices of assize, and all other justices assigned
to hear and determine, being in their places dtiing their
offices. The statute further defined petty treason to be
the slaying of a master by his servant, a husband by his
wife, or a prelate by a man secular or religious owing him
allegiance. In all cases of treason not specified in the
statute the justices before whom the case came were to
tarry without going to judgment until the cause had been
* The position of treason as a special crime prosecuted by speci«l
procedure is one common to most legal systems at some per.oj of
their existence. For instanoe, in Germany, by a constitution of Henry
VII. the procedure was to be summary, sine sirepitv, ct f'jura jiidicii.
« c. 4. '» v. 30. " Ixxix. 2. '- xiv. 1. " 118J. (
" Tnese words, according to Ludere (Z«w Tracts, note ad Jin. ),
mean'^o attempt or contrive.
" This by 1 JIary, sess. 3, c. 1 includes a queen reanaul.
" ii*,, Luxembuij,
TREASON
•howed and declared before the king and bis parliament
■whether it ought to be judged treason or felony. The
statute, so far as it defines the offence, is still law, except
the clauses as to counterfeiting the seal, coining, and petit
treason, repealed respectively, after a considerable amount
■of intermediate modification by statute, by 11 Geo IV
and 1 Will. IV. c. 66, 2 and 3 Will. IV. c. 34. 30 Geo. III.
«. 48, and 9 Geo. IV. c 31. Petit treason is now treated
«s niu.Jer, 24 and 25 Vict. c. 100.' From the time of
the pa.'^sing of the Statute of Treasons the limits of treaion
were continually being extended for a time, and again
reduced to the bounds fixed by the statute. It protected
•only the king's life, and its insufficiency was supplemented
in periods of danger by legislation, often of a temporary
oature. Under Richard II. and Henry VIIL many new
offences were made treason.^ but the Acts creating these
new treasons were repealed at the earliest opportunity by
the parliaments of their successors, and the Statute of
Treasons was made the final standard by I Mary, sess 1,
c. 1. The reign most prolific in statutory additions to the
law of treason was undoubtedly that of Henry VIII.
Legislation in this reign was little more than a register
of the fluctuating opinions of the monarch. Thus, by 25
Hen. VIII. c. 22 it was treason not to believe Mary
tiiegitirnate and Elizabeth legitimate; by 28 Hen VIII.
c 7 it was treason to believe either legitimate ; by 35
Hen VIII c 1 It was treason not to believe both
Jeuitiniate. An interesting act of .this reign, 37 Hen
VIII c 10, shows that a class of men like the Roman
dAalo)>s must have been called into existence by all the
new legislation. The Act constituted it felony to make
anonymous charges of treason without daring to appear in
support of them before the king or council. Out of the
mass of Henry VIII. 's Acts, only two are still law —98
Hen. VIII. c. 15 and 35 Hen. VIII. c 2, giving pow'er
to try treasons committed within the jurisdiction of the
admiralty and out of the realm. Many other instances of
offences of a temporary kind made treason at different
times occur among the statutes, especially in those levelled
at the papal jurisdiction by the parliaments of Elizabeth.
A few of the more interesting of other kinds may be
briefly noticed. It was treason by 21 Ric II. c. 4 to
attempt to appeal or annul judgments made by parHament
against certain traitors, by 2 Hen. V. st. I, c. 6, and 29
Hen. VI c. 2 to break a truce or safe-conduct, by 5 and
6 Edward VI. c. 1 1 to hold castles, fortresses, or muni-
tions of war against the king; by 17 Car. II. c. 5 to
adhere to the United Provinces; by 9 Will. Ill e 1 to
return without licence if an adherent of the Pretender ■
by 2 and 13 Will. III. c. 3 to correspond with the Pre-
tender ; and by 57 Geo. III. c. 6 to compass or imagine
tlie death of the prince regent. In addition to these
many Acts of attainder were passed at different times'
u"" J ,o .',"°'' ^^''"^ ^"^ t*"*' against Catherine
Howard. 33 Hen VIII c. 21, which went as far as to
make It treasonable for any queen to conceal her ante-
nuptial incontinence. Other Acts were those against
Archbishop Scropc, Owen Glendower, Jack Cade, Lord
Seymour. Sir John Feiiwick, James Stuart, and Bishop
Atterbury. In one case, that of Cromwell, Ireton, and
Bradshaw, an Act of attainder was passed after the death
of those guilty of the treason, 12 Car. II. c. 30. At times
527
Acts of indemnity were passed to relieve those -who had
taken part in the suppression of rebellion from any possible
liability for illegal proceedings. Three such Acts were
passed in the reign of William in. j
The Statute of Treasons, as interpreted by the judges, is still th«
standard by whicl. an act is determined to be treason or not The
judicial interpretation has been sometimes strained to meet cases
scarcely within the cootemnlation of the franiers of the statnte-
e.g., it became established doctrine that a conspiracy to levy war
afpinst the king's person or to imprison or depose him miTht be
given in evidem-e as an overt act of compassing his death an3 that
spoken «ords, though tliey could not in themselves amount to
treason, might constitute an overt act, and so be evidence. Fksides
decisions on particular c;»ses, the judges at different times came to
general resolutions which had an appreciable effect on the law The
principal resolutions were those of 1397 (coflfinned by 21 Ric. IL
c. 12). of 1557. and those agreed to in the case of the regicidea at
the Kcstoration and reported by Sir John Kelyng A ren.arkable
resolution in fnvorcm rei among the latter was thai a prisoner
ought not to bo ironed during trial The result of judicial decisions
on the Statute of Treawns was summed np in Acts pas.sed in Iz'SB
made pei-manent in 1817 and in 1848 (57 Geo III c. 6 and li)
Vict. c. 12, the latter often called the Treason Felony Act) The
effect of this legislation, accniding to Jlr Justice Stephen, is that
such of the judicial constructions as extend the imagining of the
kings death to ii.iag.ning his death, destruction, or any bodily
harm tending to death or destruction, maim ot wounding im-
prisonment or restraint, have been adopted, while such of the con-
structions as make the iiiiagiuing of his deposition conspiring to
Since the disappear.'ince of petit treason as a distinct crime it
«ems useless to retain the old name of l,,gl, treason by which w'uat
may be called tre.isoii proper was foi-merly knonm
.„ ;"^'''1,?/'"" "'^''"'= "'''° °"''=°<=" "'^"™ "ther than felony
«as m, doubt to give the crown ratl,er than the lor<l of tho f^e Uie
bet feloav n l"-'" "^ l^\"""i-l °" forfeiture. Had .the offences
«n tvi ,^ V '"" "■°"''^ '"'^' ■'^'^ ""'y Ws year, day, and waste
uet^rof-^^r^f ^-v^rvvr ^^^ ">» ^^ '- -"-- ^^f-
. ^..^ i....^^,uuiM ui uis ueposition conspinng to
levy war against him, and instigating foreignets to invade the
real^m, have not been abolished, but are left to rest on tbeauthorit*
of decided cases The present state of the law has been incorpor-
ated by skilled lawyers in the draft criminal code, which willno
doubt become an Act when parliament has leisure to devote to
mattei^s of this kind The code draws a distinction between treason
and treasonable cnmes, the former including such acts fomittin»
those that are obviously obsolete) as by the Statute- of Treasons an3
subsequent legislation are regarded as treason proper, the lattei
including the crimes contained in the Act of 1848. In the worda
of the code (§ 76) treason is (a) the act of killing Her JIajesty, or
doing her any bodily harm tending to death or d«truction, maim or
wounding, and the act of imprisoning or restraining her; or (6) the
loiming and manifesting by an oveit act an intention to kill Her
Majesty, or to do her any bodily harm tending to death or destruc-
luii. maun or wounding, or to imprison or to restrain her; or (c)
the act of killing the eldest son and heir-apparent of Her Jl.iicstv
or the queen consort of any king of the United Kingdom of Great
Kntain and Ireland; nr (rf) the forming and manifesting by an
overt act an intention to kill the eldest son and heir-appaient of
Her Majesty or the queen consort of auv king of the United
kmgdoni of Great Britain and Ireland; or (<:) conspiiiug with any
person to kdl Her M.ajesty, or to do her any bod:ly harm tending
to death or destruction, maim or wounding, or conspiring with any
person to imprison or restrain her ; or (/) levying war aiainst Her
Majesty either with intent to depose Her Jl/jesfy from the style,
honour, and royal name of the imperial crown of the United
Kingdom of Great Britain and Ireland or of any other of Her
Majesty s doiiimions or countries ; or in order by force or constraint
to compel Her Majesty to change her measures or counsels, or in
order to intinihjate or overawe both Houses or either House of
Parliament; or (g) conspiring to levy war against Her Majesty
with any such intent or for any such purpose as aforesaid ; or (A)
instigating any foreigner with force to invade this realm or any
other of the doiiiinions of Her Majesty ; or (i) assisting any pubUc
enemy at w-ar with Her JInjesty in such war by aay means wLatso-
ever; or U\violating, whether with her consent or not, a queen
consort or the wife of the eldest son and heir-apparent for the time
being of the king or nucen regnant." Thet« are a few other Acts
slUl in force besidi^ those of 1817 and 1848 which have dealt with
substantive law-^ By 11 Henry VII. c. 1 obedience to the de /ado
sovereign for the timo being is not treason. By I.Anne st 2 c;
21. It IS treason to endeavour to hinder the next successor to the
Cl■n^yn from succeeding, and by 6 Anne c. 41 it is treason to
maliciously^ advisedly, and directly by writing or printing main-
tain and affirm that any person has a right to the crown otherwise
than according to the Acts of Settlement and Union, or that the
crown and |iarliamciit cannot pass statutes for the limitation of the
succession to the crown.
The Acts dealing with procedure and punishment are more
numerous, and arecliaiacterized by a slowly increasing favour shown
to the accused, -ui fact, considerably greater than in felony for
counsel were not allowed to prisoners in charges of felony until
1636, and such prisoners are still not entiUed to a copy of the
indictment or the names of the witnesses or jury. With respect to
the mode of trial, the effect of common law and legislation is that
Uieie are uow four varieties,— Imi'Eacumkxt (s.v.), trial of a peer
528
TREASON
by the peers, court martial, aod trial by a judge of the High Court
,.f .lustice aud a jury. Tlie offence cannot be tried at quarter
se'isioDS. Trial by battle in cases of treason ceased in the 14tli
century as far as regards appeals in the common law courts or in
iiarliament, by the elfect of several statutes passed between 1332
aud 1399. Appeals of treason were finally abolished in 1819 see
APPEAL) In the court of the lord high constable an award ot
battle occurred as lately as 1631 in the case of Lord Rea.' Traitors
in the reign of Edward IV., and perhaps later, were at times tried
by martial law The issue of commissions of martial law m time
of peace was declared illegal by the Petition of Right in 1628.
The preroc^live of the crown to try traitors by martial law in time
of open rebellion still exists, and is recognized by statute. In two
Acts, for instance, dealing mth Ireland, 43 Geo. 111. c 117 and 6
and 4 Will IV c 4, it was provided that nothing in the Acts was
to take away the undoubted prerogative of the crown for the public
safety to resort to the exercise of martial law agamst open enemies
and traitors. A peer js tried before the House of Lords, or the
court of the lord high steward if the trial be during the recess of
parliament Procedure in such trials is regulated by 7 and 8 Will,
ill c 3 and other Acts. The last trial of a peer for treason was
that of Lord Lovat in 1746-47. Persons subject to naval or
military law are triable by court marti.al m certain cases under the
powers given by the Naval Discipline Act, 1866, and the Army
Act 1881 The trial of treason committed out of the realm is
regillated by 35 Hen. VIII. c. 2, 5 and 6 Edw. VI. c 11 and 7
Anne c. 21 Lord Macguire was tried by jury in England under
35 Hen VIII c 2 for treason committed in Ireland.' Procedure
before and at the tr«l depends upon a 'a^ge number of Acts of
which the most important is one passed in 1695 (7 and 8 Will. UL
c 3) It enacted that persons indicted for treason are to have a
copy of the indictment delivered to them five days before tii.il.
The court is empowered to assign counsel for the prisoner (a power
extended to impeachments by 20 Geo. U. c. 30). The oath of two
witnesses, or confession in open court, or refusal to plead, or per-
emptory challenge of more than thirty-five jurors is necessary for
conviction. The witnesses must be both to the same overt act or
one to one aii.l the other to another overt act of -the same treason
If two or more treasons of divers kinds are alleged in one indict-
ment one witness to prove one treason and another to prove
another arc not sufficient. No person is to be indicted unless
williin three years after the offence, except on a charge of attempted
assassination of "the king. The accused is to have copies of he
panel of tne jury^ two Jays before trial. He is entitled to the
same process to compel his intoesses to appear as is usually granted
to compel the witnesses for the prosecution. No evidence is to be
eiveii ol anv overt art not expressly laid in the indictment. 1 be
Act expressly denied Uie prison.-, the names ol the witnesses
against luin. The law on this puint was altered by 7 Anne c. 21,
winch enacted that a list of such witnesses was to be .lelivered to
l.im ten davs belore trial Such witnesses had pieviously been
made exainioabte upon oath bv 1 Anne st. 2, c. 9. ^y 5 and b
VicL c 51 (e<t.ending the provisions of an Act of 1800) tne
advantages given by the Act of WUIiam III are not to extend to
a prisoner charged with treason in compassing or imagining any
bodily harm tending to the death or destruction, maiming or
woundiii" of the queen, where the overt act is an attempt to injuie
the perso". of the queen. In such a case the trial is to proceed in
every resiiect and on the like evidence as if it were for murder. By
II Vict, c 12 no prosecution for a felony under the Act. in so lar
as It i.» exprei«cd by open and advised speaking only, is to be
instituted unless information be given to a justice or shenll witliiu
SIX days and a warrant issued within ten days of the information,
and no pei-son is to be couvicled of such an offence except on con-
fe:,-,ion III open court or proof by two witnes.ses. The pnsoner is
nol to be acquitted if the facts amount to treason. Tnere may be
aecesHories to felonies under this Act, which, as has been already
sUted. there cannot be to treason The prosecutor and witnesses
are not entitled to costs. By a later Act of the same year (11 and
12 VicL c 42 g 23) a person charged with treason is not to he
admitted to bjil except by order of a secretary of state or by the
Queen s Reoch Division or a judge thereol in vacation.
The punishment of treason at common law was barbarous in the
extreme • The sentence was that the otieiider. if a man. be drawn
on a hurdle to the place of exccnt.on, that there he be hanged by
the neck till he be dead, that his head be severed from his body
and tiut his body be divided into four quarters, the head ami
quarters 10 be at the dis,K)sal of the . ruwn A womnn w-.= o.awn
to the place of execution, ami there burned alive . r.e Acts ol M
Geo III. c 48 and 64 Geo III c. 146 rh»...;.;;d the sentence to
1 Sl,.l,f.pe..e >w,ee .Ti.ke. .Hecu-e u» ol Ihc lilal b, bailie ... ucMon. In
J by II..: B.ll ..( invhl. Ihe larom in tr.al, tor ue..-»n masl b.ve been fre<^
Loldel r-i.s o.ov.vc.n ol ihe Ac! w». r.-l>e..le<l by 9 Geo. I\ c SO
' ". «<,ei,ir„„.l .1..n.cier ol the pon..h,.,enl,llk6 that »' ""= P"7^^"'','l JJ
• rt^pms ihem "> '"» i""> tnro«i..g tbem Alto a lumace U aUudeil lo by Dame.
H/frttt, jxiu. ee.
hant-ui" lU the case of women, and In the ca.sc of men enabled th&
crow'n,''by warrant under the sign manual countersigned by a
secretary of state, to change the scntciirc to beheading or remit it
altoceth'cr. By the Felony Act, 1870, the pniirsliiiient is hanging
only" but 54 Geo. HI. c- 146 appears to be still so far m force that
beheading may be substituted by wariant of the crown wlicro t ho
criminal is a man. Attainder and lorfeitnio are abolished by Ui«
Felony Act, 1870, except where tlic otfcndcr has been outlawed.
The maxiuinm penalty for a felony under the Act of 1848 is penal
servitude for life. In every pardon of treason the offence is to b»
particularly specified therein (see Paiidon).
Trials for treason m Great Britain and Ireland have been very
numerous, and occupy a large part of the numerous volumes of the
State Trials. Some of the more interesting may be mentioned.
Before ths Statute of Treasons were those of Gaveston and the
Despensers in the reign of Edward II. on charges of accroaching
the royal power. After the Statute were those (some before the
peers by trial or inipeachmeut. most befoic the ordinary criminal
courts) of Enipson au.l Dudley, Fisher, More, the earl of Surrey,
the duke of Somerset, Anue Boleyn, Lady Jane Grey, Sir Thomas
Wyatt Cranmer, the queen of Scots, Sir Waller Raleigh. StialTord,
Laud Sir Henry Vane and other regicides, William. Lord Russell.
Algernon Sidney, the duke of Moniiiontli, and those implicated id
the Pih'nmage of Grace, the Gunpowder, Popish, Rye House, and
other plots. Cases where the proceeding was by bill of attainder
have been already mentioned Occasionally the result of a trial
was confirmed by statute. In some of these tiial-s, as is well
known, the law was considerably strained in order to insure a con-
viction Since the Revolution there have been the cases of those
who took part in the risings ol 1715 and 1746, Lord George Gordon
ill 1780; Hardy and Home Tooke in 1794, the Cato Street con-
spirators in 1820, Frost in 1840, and the Fenians in 1867. It
should be noticed that many cases of proceedings for treason
a-amst foreigners occur. Treason committed by them within the
r?alm is a breach of what h.is been called local allegiance, due to
the sovereign of the country in which they reside. Such ore the
cases of Leslie, bishop of Ross, ambassador to Elizabeth from the
queen of Scots, the Marquis de Guisoard in Queen Amies reign,
and Gyllenborg, the ambassador from Sweden to George 11. Pro-
ceedings ac-ainst ambassadors for treason have never gone beyond
inipnsoiimSiit, more for safe custody than as a punishment. No
amount of residence abroad will suffice to exem|.t a native-born
subiect from the penalty ot treason if he bear arms against the
country of his birth.' • .u j
Misrr'^w,t (from the old French vicspris) of treason, in the words
of Blackstone, " consists m the bare knowledge and concealment of
treason, without any degree of assent thereto, for any assent makes
the party a principal traitor." At con.mon law even the conceal-
ment was treason, but 5 and 6 Edw. VI. c 11 and 1 and 2 Ph.
and M c 10 made con.^ealment a misprision only. Hie ollencc
was dealt with by many Acts, under some of which rather remark-
able cnii.es were made misprision; eg.. 14 Eliz. c. 3 constituted
the counterfeiting of foreign coinage a misprision. The i.roccuure
in trials for misprision is in general the same as that followed ID
trials for treason, most of the Acts regulating procedure including
both mines The punishment is loss of the pioht of the lands of
the otfen.icr during life, an.l imprisonment for life. „,„.
CoQ,uUc Ofic,iccs.-Vuiier this bead may be conveniently grouped
cert.1,11 olfciices against public order which, though not technically
treason or treasonable olTciices (to use the language of the dralt
criminal co.le), are so nearly allied to them as to make it convenient
to ireat thein nii.ler the head of treason. The most interesting o
these for historical reasons is 7.r«,;i»mr«. T^ie word is derived
from vTHn.uunrf or pr«„w,«r,/na,«, the introductorv woi-ds of the
writ of summons to the defendant to answer the charge. From
this the wo.d came to be used to denote the offences proseciited
by means of such a writ, usually of an ecclesinstica kiud. The
Statute of Prieiniiniie, si-ecially so called, is 16 Ric. 11. c. 5 eliact-
„,.T that the procuring ..t Rome or elsewhere of any translations.
bulls &c , against the king puts the persons olTeuding out of tlia
king s protection, subjects their goods to forfeiture amt themse v«
to attachment or process of pr^m„n,re faca. The Act introduced.
.r ..... ... ..r,.,.,„..„il fbe nntl-nanal Dolic <
to attachment or processoi /^^it"!"".'...;' — — ;: - ^
no new principle, but simply continued the anti-papa puir,
visible in the Statutes of Provisors. the earliest of winch dateu fn.n
l;lii7 At different times many other Ac'j .veic pas.se,l, extending
the penalties of pnemiinire toother crimes, usually those coiinectea
!'";f:h. siir-remaoy ol the pope (2 Hen. I V c. 4 m.ntinned under
T.-1E.S IS an ex..iiiple), but soiiielimes of a mor« distinctly pohticaj
as Jistingnished from religious nature. Thus it is p^mnnire by
13 Car r c. 1 to alfirm the (Kiwer of parliament lo legislate with-
out the crown, by the Habeas Corpus Act to send a prisoner beyond
seas and to verbally assert the right of a peisor to the crown con-
. P-.e-.- ...er '^ ^'^^^-l^^ll^fS^^T^^^^ir::!^ T.lt'lZ
been t.ken bat "'"> ,"» » ." '^ " j,, £. c.ko l-t /It;. . S?) smtcs th.t tlior.
":',°.:i1„ ;; b^cTUl'^'tr ol Te J^f»^' ol „,.e Lin ,'n rebeUloa on vl«^
I « See jEneM UacdonnlJ s case, 18 Slate Triall. 857.
TREASON
529
trary to the Acts of SottJomcnt and Union is praemunire by 6 Anne
c. 4 1 To do so by writing or printing is, as has been said, treason.
The latest Act constituting a pi-a:niunire is the Royal Marriage
Act, 12 Ceo 1 II. c. 1 1, which subjects to the penalties of premunire
ony one guilty of a breach of the provisions of the Act. A peer
chargeJ with prxmunire is not entitled to trial by his peers, but is
to be tried by a jury. The most famous historical instance of a
prosecution on the Statute of Pra?munire was that of Wolsey in
1529. Other oflTenccs cognate to treason are publishing scandalous
stones about the king (the leasing- making of Scotch law), mal-
administration and sale of public offices, coining, ofTences against
the Foreign Enlistment Act, and the crimes specially provided
against by 33 Hen. VIII. c. 12 and 5 and 6 Vict. c. 51. The
former Act punished malicious striking in the king's palace by
perpetual imprisonment, fine, and loss of the right hand. The
mmutc provisions for the mutilation of the offender are very
curious, but not of immediate interest, as that part of the Act
which inflicted mutilation was repealed by 9 Geo. IV. c. 31. By
5 and 6 Vict. c. 51 it is a high misdemeanour, punishable by penal
servttolo for seven years, to wilfully discharge, point, aim, or
preser.t at the per; in of the queen any gun or other arms, loaded
or not, or to strike at or attempt to throw anything upon the
queens person, or to produce any firearms or other arms, or any
explosive or dangerous matter, near her person, with intent to
injure or alarm her or to commit a breach of the peace. For other
olfenccs which are more or less nearly connected with treason refer-
ence may be made to the articles Libel, Oaths, Petition, Riot,
and Sedition.'
Scotland. — Treason included treason proper, or crimes against the
CTt>wn or the state, such as rebellion, and crimes which, though not
technically treasonable, were by legislation punished as treason.
Examples of the latter were the remaining 'in England against the
king's will, 1430, c. 19; wilful fire-raising, 1526, c 10; kidnapping,
1557, c 27 ; theft, reset, and stouthrief by banded men, 1587, c. 34.
There were also many acts dealing with offences in the nature of
resistance to authority, such as unlawful convocations, and with
treasons of a merely transitory nature, such as attempting to restore
the Ruthvens (1600), taking or owning the Covenants (1685), or
corresponding -with .lames VII. (169S). Acts of forfeiture were
sometimes directed against individuals, as 1645, c, 23, against the
marquis of Huntly. Scottish procedure was as a rule less favour-
able to the accused than English. In one matter, however, the
opposite was the case. Advocates compellable to act on behalf of
the accused were allowed him by 1587, c. 57, more than a century
before the concession of a similar indulgence in England. At one
time trial in absence and even after death was allowed, as in Roman
law. In the case of Robert Leslie, in 1540, a summons after death
was held by the estates to be competent, and the bones of the
deceased were exliumed and presented at the bar of the court^
The Act 1542, c. 13, confined this revolting procedure to certain
treasons of the more heinous kind. By 7 Anne c 21 'trial in
absence — the last instance of which had occurred in 1698 — was
aboli.'ihed. The same Act assimilated the law and practice of
treason to that of England in other respects by enacting that no
crime should be treason or misprision in Scotland bat such as was
treason or misprision in England. The Act further provided that
the trial was tobe by a jury of twelve, not fifteen as in other crimes,
before the court of justiciary, or a commission of oyer and terminer
containing at least three lords of justiciary. To slay a lord of
justiciary or lord of session, or to counterfeit the great seal, was
made treason. The Act also contained provisions as to forfeiture,'
p'lalification of jurors, and procedure. Outlawry for treason was
regulated by 22 G«o. II. c. 48. The punishment still remains the
same as it was in ■ England before the Felony Act, 1870, and
attainder and forfeiture are stiH the effects of condemnation for
treason, the Act of 1870 not extending to Scotland. One or two
other statutory provisions may be briefly noticed. The trial of a
peer of Great Britain for treacon committed in Scotland^is to be by
a commission from the crown, on indictment found by-'a jury of
twelve (6 Anne c. 23, 6 Geo. IV. c. 66). Bail in treason-felony is
only to be allowed by consent of the public prosecutor or warrant
of the high or circuit court (11 Vict. c. 12). The term lcsc-majesty_
was sometimes used for what was treason proper, e.g. in 1524, c. 4,
making it lese-majesty to transport the kmg out of the realm,
sometimes as a synonym of Uasing-makinj. This crime (also called
t Auikoritiex. — ^Thc text-writers on criminal law. sucti as Hale and Hawkins ;
Bacon, Law Tracd, Cases of Treason; Coke. 3 /nst., 1-39; Sir R. Holbourne,
Reading on the StaluCe of Treasorts; Luders, Law Tracti', Foster, Discount of
Treason; Stcplien. Comm., vol. U. bk. vi. ch vi. The Statute of Treasons is
roLiced by Hallam, Con&t. Hist ^ voi. iii. p. 203; Stubbs, Const, ffist., vol lU.
p. 613. The most valual)!c modem authorities are Stephen. Hist, of the Criminal
lau, vol. 11. ch. x.xlll.. and Willis Bund. Selection of Cases from t!i^ State Trials.
2 In the one instance in EnKland— that of CromweU. Ireton. and Bradshaw —
where the bodies of alleged traitors were exhumed after death they were not
broufrbt to the bar of a court as in Scotland.
3 The provisions in the Act as to forieiture (now repealed) were, according to
Blackstone, Ctotnm., vol. iv. p. 3S4, the result of a compromise between the House
cV Ijords, in favour of Its continuance, and the House oC. Commons, supported by
the Scottish nation, BtrnggUng to sectue a total immunity from this dlaabUiCy.
verbal sedition) consisted in the engendering discord between king
and people by slander of the king.' The earliest Act against
Icasing-making co nomiite was in 1524. The reign of James VI.
was pre-eminently prolific in legislation against this crime. It is
now of no practical interest, as prosecutions for leaaing-making
have long fallen into desuetude. Atone time, however, the powers
of the various Acts were put into force with great severity, especially
in the trial of tho earl of Argyll in 1681. The punishment for
leasing-making, once capital, is now, by 6 Geo. IV. c 47, fine or
imprisonment, or both. The offence of praemunire was introduced
into Scotland at a comparatively late period. By 6 Anne c 23 it
is pnemtinire for the peers of Scotland assembled to elect represen-
tatives to treat of any other matter.'
Ireland. — Numerous Acts, beginning with 18 Hen. VI. c 2,
were passed by the Irish parliament — in many cases mere echoes of
previous English legislation. As in England and Scotland, thera
was a tendency to include under treason crimes of quite another
character. Murder was made treason by 10 Hen. VII. c. 21, and
arson by 13 Hen. VIII. c. 1. Apparently the law must sometimes
have been strained against accused persons, for 3 and 4 Ph. and M.
c 11 enacted that trials for treason were -to be according to the
common law. Treasons of a temporary nature were often the
subject of legislatioiL An example is 1 1 Eliz. c. 6, making it treason
to assume the name and authority of O'Neill. The provisions of tha
English Act of William III. as to witnesses, &c., were not extended
to Ireland until 1821 by 1 and 2 Geo. IV. c. 24. Many Acts of
indemnity were passed both by the parliaments of Ireland aud'of
the United Kingdom. Among the more important were an Irish
Act of 1799 (39 Geo. III. c. 3), indemnifying those who had been
active in suppressing the treasonable rising of the previous year,
and one of the parliament of the United Kingdom (41 Geo. III. c.
104), indemnifying those who had taken part in the suppression
of rebellion subsequent to 1799. The law is now practically the
same as that of England, unless where exceptional political circum-
stances have led to exceptional legislation. Thus a series of enact-
ments called the " Whiteboy Acts" (passed by tho Irish and the
United Kingdom parliaments between 1775 and 1830) was intended
to give additional facilities to the executive for the suppression of
tumultuous risings. Many Irish Acts dealt with unlicensed posses-
sion and manufacture of arms. A similar policy was continued
after the Union, and appears in the Peace Preservation Act, 1881,
continued in 1887 for five years. Some Acts, such as 3 and 4 Will.
IV. c. 4, went as far as to make offenders in a proclaimed district
triable by court-martial. By the Prevention of Crime Act, 1882,
now expired, the lord-lieutenant was empowered to issue special
commissions for the trial without jury of treason and treason-felony.
The power was never exercised. The Criminal Law and Procedure
(Ireland) Act, 1887, deals with resistince to authority and offences
of a treasonable nature, especially " dangerous associations," though
treason is not mentioned by name.
British Colonies and Dependencies. — The law in the main agrees
with that of the mother country, but it is quite competent for a
colony to deal with treason by its own legislation which need not
necessarily be in accordance with English law, and is sometimes ex-
pressed in more definite terms. Thus the Indian penal code makes
it punishable with transportation for life to wage war against the
Government of any Asiatic power in alliance or at peace with the
queen, or to attempt to excite feelings of disaffection to the Govern-
ment. Numerous temporary Acts were passed about the time of
the mutiny, one of the most characteristic being an Act of 1858
making rebellious villages liable to confiscation. By the Cape of
Good Hope statutes it is treason to deliver arms or gunpowder to
the queen's enemies. Many colonies adopt the English legislation
as to procedure, and some, as Now South Wales, &c, enact the
Treason Felony Act A striking feature of colonial legislation on
this subject is the great number of Acts of indemnity passed'after
different rebellions. Instances of such A'cts occur in the legislation
of Canada, Ceylon, the Cape of Good Hope, New Zealand, St Vin-
cent, and Jamaica. The most important in the history of law is
the Jamaica Act of 1866, indemnifying Mr Eyre for any actj com-
mitted during the suppression of the rising in the previous year.
It was finally held by the Exchequer Chamber in 1870 that this Act
protected Mr Eyre from being sued successfully in England on a
cause of action arising out of his acts during the outbreak (" Phil-
lips r. Eyre," Law Reports, 6 Queen's Bench, 1).
United Stoics. — The law is based upon that of England. By
Art. 3 s. 3 of the constitution "treason against the United States
shall consist only in levying war a^inst them, or in adhering to
their enemies, giving them aid and comfort. No person shall be
convicted of treason unless on the testimony of two witnesses to
tho same overt act, or on confession in open court. The Congress
shall have power to declare the punishment of treason ; but no
attainder of treason shall work corniption of blood or forfeiture,
except during the life of the person attainted." By Art 2 s. 4
^ It is called by llaUam " the old mystery of iniquity in Scots law."
6 For the exisUup Scots law of treason see Macdonaid, Crimtnat Icie, p. 220.
For leaslOK-makinc sec Hume, Comm., voL I. p. 345.
XXIIL — 67
530
T R E — T R E
Impeachment for and conviction of treason is a grouiiii for remov-
ing the prosiJent, v^e-president, and otlicr civil olTicers. The
punishment by an Act of 1790 was declared to be death by banging.
But during the Civil War a new Act (17 July 16G2) was pabsed,
providing that the punishment should be death, or, at the discretion
of the court, imprisonment at hard labour for not less than five
years, and a fine of not less than 10.000 dollars to be levied on the
real and personal property of the olTendcr, in addition to disability
to hold any oHice under the United States. The Act of lS6'.i and
other Acts albo deal with the crimes of inciting or eng;iging in
rebellion or insurrection, criminal correspondence with foreign
Governments in relation to any disputes or controversies with the
United Slates, or to defeat tho measures of tlie Govciriment of
the United States, seditions, conspiracy, recruiting soldiers or
sailors and enlistment to serve against the United Slates. The
Act of 1790 further provides for the delivery to the prisoner of
a copy of the indictment and a list of the jurois, for defence by
counsel, and for the finding of the indictment within three years
tfter the commission of the treason. Misprision of treason is de-
fined to be the crime committed by a jicrson owing allegiance to
the United Slates, and having knowledge of the commission of any
crime against them, who conceals and docs not as soon as may be
disclose and make known the same to the president or to some
judge of the United States, or to the governor or to some judge
or justice of a particular State. The punishment is imprisonment
for not more than seven years and a fine of not more than 1000
dollars (see Revised Staiulcs. §§ 10.3.3, 1034, 1043, 5331-533S; Story,
Constilution of the United . Stales, §§ 1296-1301, 1796-1802).
Treason against the United States canuot be inquired into by any
State court, but the States may, and some of them have, their own
-constitutions and legislation as to treasons committed against
themselves, gcneially following the lines of the constitution and
legislation of the United States. In some cases there arc dilfer-
-enccs which are worth notice. Thus tiie constitution of Massa-
chusetts, § 25, declares that no subject ought in any case or in
any time to be declared guilty of treason by the Icgibialnrc. The
same provision is contained in the constitutions of Vermont,
Connecticut, Pennsylvania, Alabama, and others- In some Stales
tho Clime of treason cannot be pardoned ; in others, as in New
York, it may be pardoned by the legislature, and the governor may
suspend the sentence until the end of the session of the legislature
next following conviction. In some States a person convicted of
treason is disqualified for exercising the franchise. In Nev/ York
conviction carries with it forfeiture of real estate for the life of the
convict and of his goods and chattels. (J. \Vt. )
TREASURE-TROVE is defined by Blackstone to be
money or coin, gold, silver, plate, or bullion found hidden
in the earth or other private place, the owner thereof being
unknown. This definition is simply an extension of the
Roman law definition of thesaurus inventus as an ancient
deposit of money (vetus depositio pecunix) found by
accident and without actual search. The right to treasure-
trove was not, however, tho same in Roman and English
law. The former at its latest stage divided it between the
finder and the owner of the land on which it was found,
except where it was found on public or imperial property,
when one-half went to tho fisc- If a man found treasure
on his own land, ho had a right to the whole. The rights
of the crown, modified by those of the feudal lord, gradu-
ally became more extensive in the feudal law' of Europe,
so much so as to become, in the words of Grotius, "jus
commune et quasi gentium." In more recent times there
has been a return, at any rate in the case of France, to the
division made by the Roman law. In England the com-
mon law, which at one time apparently conferred treasure-
trove, wherever found, upon the finder, now gives it all to
the king, in accordance with the maxim ''quod uuUius est
fitdomint regis." This is always provided that the owner
- cannot be known or discovered. If he can be he and not
the king is entitled to it.
A right to treasure-trove mav be granted by the British crown as
a FiiANCUISE(f/.r. ). It is the duty of one finding treasure to make
it known to the coroner. liy the statule De OJ/icio Corcnuttoris
(4 Edw. I. sL 2), the coroner is to inquire of treasuic th.it is found,
who were the finders anil likewise who is suspected thereof, and
that may be well perceived where one liveth riotously, haunting
taverns, and hath done so of long time. Concealme it of treasure-
trove is a niisiierui-nnour at common law. There can lie no larceny
'•fit until it has been found by the coroner to be the property of
the crowD. The Home Office has receotly issued a notification
modifying the existing regulations so far as to iierinit the finders
of coins and antiquities coming under the description of treasure*
trove to retain articles not actually required for national iiistitu*
tions, and the sum received from such institutions as tlicaiitiquailaa
value of any articles retained, subject to a deduction ©f 20 per cent-
from the antiquarian value of the objects retained and 10 per cent,
from the value of other objects. In the United States treasure*
trove is usually vested in the State as boiia vacantia. Louisiana
follows the French Cotic Civil, aud gives half to the finder and haU
to the landowner. The importance of treasure-trove in mdia led
to the passing of the Indian Treasure-Tiove Act (Act vi of 1878).
It provides that treasure is to be delivered to the Under if no owner
api>ears. If the owner can be found, tliree-fpurtlis go to t)ie finder
and one-fourth to the owner, power being reserved to tlyj Covcrn-
nient to acquire it by payment of a sum equal to ono-fifth mora
than tiie value of the niateiial.
TREATIES- 1 A treaty is a contract between two or Termiao
more states. The term " tractatus, " and its derivatives, '<>sy-
though of occasional occurrence in this sense from the 13tb
century onwards, only began to be commonly so employed,
in lieu of the older technical terms "conventio publica,"
or " foedus," from the end of the 17th century. In the
language of modern diplomacy the term " treaty " is re-
stricted to the more important international agreements;
especially to those which are the work of a congress, %¥hile
agreements dealing with subordinate questions are de-
scribed by the more general term "convention."' The
present article will disregard this dii'linction.
2. The making and the observance of treaties is neces- Antl-
sarily a very early phenomenon in the history of civilization, quily.
and the theory of treaties was one of the first departments
of international law to attract attention. Treaties are
recorded on the monuments of Egypt and Assyria; they
occur in the Old Testament Scriptures ; and questions
arising under (rviBiJKai and "fuidcra" occupy much space
in the Creek and Roman historians.'
3. Treaties have been classified on many principles, Clas-sifica.
of which it will suffice to mention the more important. A*'""-
"personal treaty," having reference to dynastic interests,
is contrasted with a "real treaty," which binds the nation
irrespectively of constitutional changes ; treaties creating
outstanding obligations are opposed to " transitory con-
ventions," e.y., for cession of territory, recognition of inde-
pendence, and the like, which operate irrevocably once for
all, leaving nothing more to be done by the contracting
parties ; and treaties in the nature of a definite transaction
{Rechtsfjesc/id/l) arc opposed to those which aim at estab-
lishing a general rule of conduct (Rec/Ussatz). With refer-
ence to their objects, treaties may perhaps be conveniently
classified as (1) political, including treaties of peace, of
alliance, of cession, of boundary, for creation o? inter-
national servitudes, of neutralization, of guarantee, o.l'
submission to arbitration ; (2) commercial, including con-
sular and fishery conventions, and slave trade and naviga*
tion treaties ; (3) confederations for special social objects,
such as the Zollverein, the Latin monetary union, and th<
still wider unions with reference to posts, telegraphs, sub-
marine cables, and weights and measures; (4) relating tfl
criminal justice, e.rj., to extradition and arrest of fugitive-
seamen , (-5) relating to civil justice, e.ij., to the protection
of trademark and copyright, to the execution of foreign
judgments, to the reception of evidence, and to actions by
and against foreigners; (fi) providing general rules for the
conduct of warfare, e.t/., the declaration of Paris and tho
convention of Geneva- It must be remarked that it is not
always possible to assign a treaty wholly to one or other
of the above classes, since many treaties contain in com-
bination clauses referable to several of them.
' For the celebrated treaty of .'i09 c.c. between i! e and Garthage,
see Folybius iii. 22; and, on tbe subject generally, Carbeyrac's lull
but very uncritical llisioire des Anciens Truitez, 17.39; Miiller-
•locliiTius, Oeschichte des Votkerrcchts im Altcrtkutii, 1818; B. Ii.i.'!,'er,
Eludes I/islorigues sur tes TraitH f^ui/tics c/iez tes Orecs et ch'j Itt
liomaiTis, new e-l.; 1866;
TREATIES
531
Ana-
Retfjui-
4. The analogy between treaty-making and legislation
is striking when a congress agrees upon general principles
which are afterwards accepted by a large number of states,
as, for instance, in the case of the Geneva convention for
improving the treatment of the wounded. Many political
treaties containing "transitory" conventions, with reference
to recognition, boundary, or cession, become, as it were, the
title-deeds of the nations to which they relate.* But the
closest analogy of a treaty is to a contract in private law,
as will appear from the immediately following paragraphs.
5. The making of a valid treaty implies several re-
quisites. (1) It must be made between competent parties,
i.e., sovereign states. A "concordat," to which the pope,
as a spiritual authority, is one of the parties, is therefore
not a treaty, nor is a convention between a state and an
individual, nor a convention between the rulers of two
states with reference to their private affairs. Semi-
sovereign states, such as San Marino or Egypt, may make
conventions upon topics within their limited competence.
It was formerly alleged that an infidel state could not be
a party to a treaty. The question where the treaty-
making power resides in a given state is answered by the
municipal law of that state. It usually resides in the
executive, though sometimes, as in the United States, it is
shared by the legislature, or by a branch of it. (2) There
must be an expression of agreement. This is not (as in
private law) rendered voidable by duress ; e.g., the cession
of a province, though extorted by overwhelming force, is
nevertheless unimpeachable. Duress to the individual
negotiator would, however, vitiate the effect of his signa-
ture. (3) From the nature of the case, the agreement of
states, other than those the government of which is auto-
cratic, must be sfgnified by means of agents, whose
authority is either express, as in the case of plenipoten-
tiaries, or implied, as in the case of, e.jr., military and naval
commanders for matters, such as truces, capitulations, and
cartels, which are necessarily confided to their discretion.
When an agent acts in e-xcess of his implied authority he
is said to make no treaty, but a mere "sponsion," which,
unles.'? adopted by his Government, does not bind it, e.g.,
the affair of the Caudine Forks (Livy, ix. 5) and the con-
vention of Closter Seven in 1757. (4) Unlike a contract
in private law, a treaty, even though made in pursuance
of a full power, is, according to modern views, of no effect
till it is ratified. (5) No special form is necessary for a
treaty, which in theory may be made without writing. It
need not even appear on the face of it to be a contract
between the parties, but may take the form of a joint
declaration, or of an exchange of notes. Latin was at one
time the language usually employed in treaties, and con-
tinued to be so employed to a late date by the emperor
and the pope. Treaties to which several European powers
of difTerent nationalities are parties are now usually
drawn up in French (the use of which became general in
the time of Louis XIV.), but the final act of ths congress
of Vienna contains a protest against the use of this
language being considered obligatory. A great European
treaty usually commences " In the name of the Most Holy
and Indivisible Trinity," or, if the Porte is a party, " In
the name of Almighty God." (G) It is sometimes said
that a treaty must have a lawful object, but the danger
of accepting such a statement is apparent from the use
which has been made of it by writers who deny the validity
of any cession of national territory, or even go so far as to
lay down, with Fiore, that "all should be regarded as void
which are in any way opposed to the development of the
free activity of a nation, or which hinder the exercise of
its natural rights." (7) The making of a treaty is some-
' Cf. Sir EdwarU Hertslot's very useful collection entitled Tht Map
C/Eunpeln/ Treaty, 1875. ,
times accompanied by acts intended to secure its better
performance. The taking of oaths, the assigning of "con-
servatores pacis," and the giving of hostages are now
obsolete, but revenue is mortgaged, territory is pledged,
and treaties of guarantee arn entered into for this purpose.
6. A " transitory convention " operates at once, leaving Duration,
no duties to be subsequently performed, but with reference
to conventions of other kinds questions arise as to the
duration of the obligation created by them, in other words,
as to the moment at which those obligations come to an
end. This may occur by the dissolution of one of the
contracting states, by the object-matter of the agreement
ceasing to exist, by full performance, by performance be-
coming impossible, Ly lapse of the time for which the agree-
ment was made, by contrariv.'s c07isen.vis or mutual release,
by "denunciation" by one party under a power reserved
in the treaty. By a breach on either side the treaty
usually becomes, not void, but voidable. A further cause
of the termination of treaty obligations is a total change of
circumstances, since a clause "rebus sic stantibus" is said
to be a tacit condition in every treaty.- Such a conten-
tion can only be very cautiously admitted. It has been
put forward by Russia in justification of her repud'ation
of the clauses of the treaty of Paris neutralizing the Black
Sea, and of her engagements as to Bat uni contained
in the treaty of Berlin. The London protocol of 1871,
with a view to prevent such abuses, lays down, perhaps a
little too broadly, " that it is an essential principle of the
law of nations that no power can liberate itself from the
engagements of a treaty, nor modify the stipulations
thereof, unless with the consent of the contracting powers,
by means of an amicable arrangement." Treaties are in
most cases suspended, if not terminated, by the outbreak
of a war between the contracting parties, and are therefore
usually revived in express terms in the treaty of peace.
7. The rules for the interpretation of treaties are not so Interpre-
different from those applicable to contracts in private law tation.
as to need here a separate discussion.
8. Collections of treaties are either (i.) general or (ii.) CoHec-
national. ''0"s: y
(i.) The first to publish a general collection of treaties was general ;
Leibnitz, whose Codex Juris GeMium, containing documents from
1097 to 1497, " ea quie sola inter liberos populos legum sunt loco,"
appeared in 1C93, and was followed in 1700 by the Ifanlissa. The
Corps Vniversel Diplomatiqitc du Droit dcs Gens of Duinont, con-
tinued by Barbeyiac and Rousset in thirteen folio volumes, con-
taining treaties from 315 A.D. to 1730, was published in 1726-39.
Wenck's Corpns Juris Gentium Jxccenlissimi, 3 vols. 8vo, 1781-95,
contains treaties from 1735 to 1772. The 8vo Jlecncil of G. F. de
Martens, continued by C. de Martens, Saalfeld, Murhard, Samwer,
Hopf, and Stoerk, commenced in 1791 with treaties of 1761,
and is still in progress. The series in 1887 extended to sixty-four
volumes. See also the following periodical publications- — Das
Staalsarchiv, Savimlung dcr ojicidlcn •Actcnstiicke zur Gcschichl«
dcr Gcgenwart, Leipsic, commencing in 1861; Archil Dipto-
■maliques, Stuttgart, since 1821; Archives Diplomatiqucs, Heeueil
Mau^Lel de Diplomalie et d'Hisloirc, Paris, since 1S61 ; and Herts-
let's British and Foreign State Papers, from the termination of ths
IVar of IS 14 lo tlie latest period, cmnpilcd at the Foreign Office by the
Librarian, and Keeper of llie Papers, London, since 1S19, and Still
in progress.
(ii.) The more important coUcctionl' of national treaties are national.
those of M. Neumann and M. de Plassan for Austria, 1855-84;
13cutner for the German empire, 1883; Calvo for "I'Amirique
Latine," 1862-69 ; De Olercq for France, 1S64-S6 ; De Garcia de
la Vega for Belgium, 1850-83 ; Lagemans for the Netherlands,
1853-82 ; Soutzo for Greece, 1858 ; Count Solar de la Marguerite
for Sardinia, 1836-61 ; De Castro for Portugal, 1855-79 ; Rydberg
for Sweden, 1877 ; Kaiser (1861),and Eichmann (1885) for Switzer-
land ; Baron de Testa (1861-82) and Aristarchi Bey (1873-74) for
Turkey ; F. de Martens for Russia, 1874-85 ; JIaycrs for China,
1877. The official publication for Italy begins in 1864, for Spain
in 1843, for Denmark in 1874. The treaties of .lapan were pub-
lished by authority in 1884. Those of the United States are con-
tained in the Statutes at Large of the United States, and in the
* Cf. Bynkershoek, Qusst. Jut. Pub., ii c. 10.
-I
532
TREATIES
collections of J. Elliott (1834) and H. Minot (1844-50); see also
Mr Baucroft Davis's Notus upon Ihr. Treaties of the United States v;i(lt
other Powers, preceded by a List of the Treaties ami Conventions
•with Foreign Powers, chronolo<jicaUy arranged, and followed by an
Analytical Index and a Synoptical Index of the Treaties, 1873.
In England no treaties were published before the 17th century,
6uch matters being thought "hot fit to be made vulgar." The
treaty of 1604 with Spain was, however, published by authority,
ns were many of the treaties of the Stuart kings. Rynicr's Fcedera
was published, under the orders of the Government, iu twenty
volumes, from 1704 to 1732. Treaties are olhcially published at
the present day in the London Gazette, and are also presented to
parliament, but for methodical collections of treaties made by
Great Britain we, are indebted to private enterprise, which pro*
duced three volumes in 1710-13, republished with a fourth vol-
ume in 1732. Other three volumes appeared in 1772-81, tlic
collection commonly known as that of C. Jenkinsou (3 vola. ) in
1785, and that of Chalmers (2 vols.) in 1795. J. Macgregor pub-
lished (1841-44) eight volumes of commercial treaties, but the great
collection of the commercial treaties of Great Britain is that of L.
Hcrtslet, librarian of the Foreign Office, continued by his sou and
aucccssor in office, Sir Edward Hertslct, entitled A Complete Collec-
tion of tho Treaties a7id Conventions and Reciprocal Regulations at
present subsisting between Great Britain and Foreign Powers, a-iid
of the Laws aiui Orders in Council eo'nceming the same, so far as
they relate to Commerce and Navigation, the Slave Trade, Post
OJicc, <tc., and to the Privileges and Interests of the Subjects of the
Contracting /"arttos, 1 820-86, 16 vols. Sir Edward Hertslct also com-
menced in 1875 a series of volumes containing Treaties and Tariffs
regulating the Trade between Britain and Foreign Nations, aiid
Extracts of Treaties between Foreign Poiucrs, containing the Most
Favoured Nation Clauses applicable to Great Britain. The treaties
affecting British India are officially set out, with historical notes,
in A Collection of Treaties, Eivjaycments, and Sannuds relating to
India and Neighbouring Countries, by C. W. Aicheson. This work,
with the index, extends to eight volumes, which appeared at
Calcutta iu 1862-66.
List <,f 9- It may be worth while to add a list of some of the
"ui'ur'anttnore important treaties, now wholly or partially in force,
lea ics, ggpggjjijy tjjQse to which Great Britain is a party, classified
according to their objects, in the order suggested in para-
graph 3.
political; (i.) The principal treaties a£fecting the distribution of
territory between the various states of Central Europe are
those of Westphalia (Osnabriick and Miinster), 164S;
Utrecht, 1713; Parisand Hubertsburg, 1763; for the parti-
tion of Poland, 1772, 1793; Vienna, 1S15; London, for the
separation of Belgium from the Netherlands, 1831, 1839 ;
Zurich, for the cession of a portion of Lombardy to Sardinia,
1859; Vienna, as to Schleswig-Holstein, 1864; Prague,
whereby the German Confederation was dissolved, Austria
recognizing the new North Gferman Confederation, trans-
ferring to Prussia her rights over Schloawig-Holstein, and
ceding the remainder of Lombardy to Italy, 1866 ; Frank-
fort, between France and the new German empire, 1871.
The disintegration of the Ottoman empire has been regu-
lated by the great powers, or some of them, in the treaties
of London, 1832, 1863, 1864, and of Constantinople,
1881, with reference to Greece; and by the treaties of
Paris, 18.56 ; London, 1871 ; Berlin, 1878 ; London, 1883,
with reference to Montenegro, Roumania, Servia, Bulgaria,
and the navigation of the Danube. The encroachments of
Russia upon Turkey, previous to the Crimean War, are
registered in a series of treaties beginning with that of
Kutchuk-Kainardji, 1774, and ending with that of Adrian-
ople in 1829. The independence of the United States of
America was acknowledged by Great Britain in the treaty
of peace signed at Paris in 1783. The boundary between
the United States and the British possessions is regulated
in details by the treaties of Washington of 1842, 1846,
1871. Switzerland, Belgium, Corfu and Paxo, and Lux-
emburg are respectively neutralized by the treaties of
Vienna, 1815, and of London, 1839, 1864, 1867. A list
of treaties of guarantee to which Great Britain is a party,
and which are supposed to be still in force, beginning with
a treaty made with Portugal in 1373, was presented to
parliameot in 1859.
(ii.) For the innumerable conventions to which Great
Britain is a party as to commerce, consular jurisdiction,
fisheries, and the slave trade, it must suffice to refer to
the exhaustive and skilfully devised index to Hertslot's
Commercial I'reaties, forming volume xvi., 1885.
(iii.) The social intercourse of the world is facilitated by
conventions, such as those establishing the Latin monetary
union, 1865; the international telegraphic union, 1865;
the universal jrastal union, 1874; the international bureau
of weights and measures, 1875 ; and providing for tho
protection of submarine cables in time of peace, 1884.
Such treaties are somewhat niisloadingly spoken of by
recent writers (L. von Stein and F. de Martens) as con-
stituting a " droit administratif international."
(iv.) The following are the now operative treaties of
extradition to which Great Britain is a party: — with
the United States, 1842; Brazil and Germany, 1872;
Austria, Denmark, Italy, Norway and Sweden, 1873 ;
Hayli and Netherlands, 1874; Belgium and France, 1876 >
Spain, Portugal (as to India only), 1878; Tonga, 1879;
Luxemburg, Equador, and Switzerland, 1880; Salvador,
1881; Uruguay, 1884; Guatemala, 1885; Russia, IS86.
It will be observed that all these, except the treaty with
the United States, are subsequent to and governed by the
provisions of 33 and 34 Vict. c. 52, "The Extradition Act,
1870." Before the passing of this general Act, it Lad
been necessary to pass a special Act for giving effect to
each treaty of extradition. The most complete collec-
tion of treaties of extradition is that of F. J. Kirchner,
L'Exlradiiion, Recueil, <tc., London, 1883.
(v.) General conventions, to which most of the Euro-
pean states are parties, were signed in 1883 at Paris for
the protection of industrial, and in 1886 at Bern for the
protection of literary and artistic, property.
(vi.) Certain bodies of rules intended to mitigate the
horrors of war have received the adhesion of most civilized
states. Thus the declaration of Paris, 1856 (to which,
however, the United States, Spain, Mexico, Venezuela,
Columbia, Bolivia, and Uruguay have declined to accede),
prohibits the u.se of privateers and protects tho commerce
of neutrals; the Geneva convention, 1864, gives a neulral
character to surgeons and hospitals; and the St Peters-
burg declaration, 1868, prohibits the employment of ex-
plosive bullete weighing less than 400 grammes.
It were greatly to be wished that the official publication
of treaties could be rendered more speedy and more
methodical than it now is. The labours of the publicist
would also be much lightened were it possible to con-
solidate the various general collections of diplomatic acts
into a new Corps Diplomatique Universet, well furnished
with cross references, and with brief annotations showing
how far each treaty is supposed to be still in force.
10. In addition to the works already cited in the course of this
article the followingare for various reasons important : — Job. Lupus,
Lie Confederalione Principum, Strasburg, 1511 (tho first published
monograph upon the subject); Bodinus, Dissertatio de Contrnctibu»
Summarum Potcstatnm., Halle, 1696 ; Neyron, De Vi Faxhruin
inter Gentes, Gbtt., 1778; Ncyro;), Essai Uistorique et Politique
sur Ics Garanties, &c., Gott., 1797; Wachter, De Modis Tolkndi
Pacta inter Gcntcs, Stuttg., 17S0; Drcsch, [/eber die Daiicr der
Volkcrvertrage, Latidshut, 1808 ; C. Bergbohm, Staatsvcrtrage
und Gescl:e als Qucllcn dcs Volkerrcchls, Dorpat, 1877; Jellineii,
Die reehtliche Natur der Statenvertrdgen, Vienna, 1880; Holzen-
dorir, llandbuehdcs Volkcrrechts, vol. iii., 1887. On the history o(
the great European treaties generally, see the Ifistoire Abrfgce^des
Traites de Paix entrc Ics Puissances dc VEurope, by Kocli, as recast
and continued by Schbll, in 1817 and 1818, and again by Count
do Garden in 1848-59; as also the Rccucil Manuel of Dc Martens
and Cussy, now continued by Gell'cken. For the peace of West
phalia Putter's Geist des wcstphdlischcn Fricdcim, 1795, is useful;
for tho congress of Vienna, Kliiber's Aclcn des li^icner Congresses^
1815-19, and Le Congris de Fienne el les Traitts de ISIS, jpricidt
des Conferences de Dresde, de Pragne, ct de ChatiUon, sitivi des
Congris d'Aix-la-Chapclle, Trojiimi, Laybach, ct Fermw, by Count
commer-
cial:
social ;
tk£ to ex-
traditioo
as to
copyriglii,
te-
as to ll>e
eoniliRi
of war-
fare.
Litera-
ture-
T R E — T R E
533
Aiiy-'ii^'. The l:i.«t-i)K-iiti3in;(l writer lias also published colicc-
lioi's <jf treaties itlating to Poland, 1702-1862; to tho Italiatr
mu-stion, 1S59; to the congress of I'aris, 1S5C, and tho revision
of its work by tho coiiferoiico of Loudon, 1871 ; and to the Franco-
Gcrniau War of 1870-71. For tho treaties rcgulatinj; tho Eastern
HUcstion, Si'O Tlic Euroiican Conccri in (he Eastern Question, by T. E.
Holland, 16SJ, and Za Turqidc ct le TanzimeU, by E. EngcHiardt,
1882-Si. (T. E. H.)
TREMZOXD, ill Greek Trapezus, a city of Asia
Minor, situated on the Black Sea, near its south-eastern
angle, from the time of its foundation as a Greek colony
to the present day has always been a considerable emporium
ot commerce, and at one time was for two centuries and a
half the capital of an empire. Its importance is due to
its geographical position, because it commands the point
where the chief and most direct trade route from Persia
and Central Asia to Europe, over the tableland of Armenia
by Bayazid and Erzeroum, descends to the sea. Its safety
also was secured by the barrier of rugged mountains which
separates its district from the rest of Asia Minor, rising to
the height of 7000 or SOOO feet above the sea-level. So
complete is the watershed that no streams pass through
these ranges, and there is hardly any communication in
this direction between the interior of Asia Minor and the
coast. For the same reason, together with its northern
aspect, the climate is humid and temperate, and favourable
to the growth of vegetation, unlike that of the inland
regions, which are exposed to great extremes of heat in
summer and cold in winter. The position which was
occupied by the Hellenic and mediaeval city is a sloping
table of ground (whence the original name of the place,
Trapezus, or the "Tableland"), which falls in steep rocky
precipices on the two sides, where two deep valleys, de-
scending from the interior, run parallel at no great distance
from one another down to the sea. The whole is still
inclosed by the Byzantine walls, which follow the line of
the cliffs, and are carried along the sea-face ; and the
upper part of the level, which is separated from the lower
by an inner cross wall, forms the castle ; while at the
highest point, where a sort of neck is formed between the
two valleys, is the keep which crowns the whole. The
fortifications and their surroundings are singularly pictur-
esque, for the towers, some round, some angular, which
project from them are in many cases covered with creepers,
and the gardens that occupy the valleys below teem with
luxuriant vegetation. On each side, about half-way be-
tween the keep and the sea, these ravines are crossed by
massive bridges,, and on the further side of the western-
most of these, away from the city, a large tower and other
fortifications remain, which must have served to defend the
approach from that quarter. The area of the ancient city
is now called the Kaleh, and is inhabited by the Turks ;
eastward of this is the extensive Christian quarter, and
beyond this again a low promontory juts northward into
the sea, partly covered with the houses of a well-built
suburb, which is the principal centre of commerce. The
harbour lies on the eastern side of this promontory, but it
IS an unsafe roadstead, being unprotected towards the
north-east, and having been much silted up, so that vessels
cannot approach within a considerable distance of the
shore. The neighbourhood of this is the liveliest portion
of the city, as it is from here that the caravans start for
Persia, and at certain periods of the year long trains of
camels may be seen, and Persian merchants conspicuous by
their high black caps and long robes. The total population
of the place is estimated at 32,000, of whom 2000 are
Armenians, "000 or 8000 Greeks, and the rest Turks.
The city of Trapezus was a colony of Sinope, hut it first comes
into notice at the time of the Ketreat of the Ten Thousand, who
found repose there. Notwithstanding its commercial importance,
the remotenesa of its position prevented it from being much
known to fame either in the Hellenicor the early mediaval period;
its grcrtncss dates from the time of tho fourth crusailo (1204),
when the IJyzantiuo cmpiro was disnitinbcied and its cipital
occupied by the Latins. During the coiifnsioii that lolloweil that
event a scion of the imperial family of tlio Coiiinoiii, called Alexius,
escaped into Asia, and, having coUcctud an army of llicrian
nici-ccnaries, entered Trcbizoiid, where ho was acknowledged as tho
legitimate sovereign, and assumed the title of Graud Comnenus.
Thougli only twenty-two years of agn, -\Icxius was a man of ability
and resolute will, capable of estaidislung order in a time of an-
archy; and thus ho succeeded without difficulty in making himself
master of the greater part of tho southern coast of the Black Si'a.
The empire that was thus founded continued to exist until 14C1,
when tho city was taken by Moliainn;cd II., eight years after ha
liad captured Constantinople. The cause of this long duration, and
at the same time the secret of its Idstorj', is to be found in tho
isolated i>osition of Trebizond and its district, between the moun-
tains and the sea, which has already been described. Ily thi.<i
means it was able to defy both the Seljiiks and tho Ottomp.us, and
to maintain its independence against the emperors of Nicea aud
Constantinople. But for tho same reason its policy wrj, always
narrow, so that it never exercised any beneficial influence on the
world at large. It was chiefly in the way of matrimonial alliances
that it was brought into contact with other states. The imperial
family were renowned for their beauty, and the princessias of this
i-ace were sought as brides by Byzantine emperors of the dynasty
of the Palceologi, by Western nobles, and by Moliammedan princes ;
and the connexions thus formed originated a variety of diplomatic
relations agd friendly or offensive alliances. The palace I'.f Trebi-
zond was famed for its magnificence, tho court for its lu::ury and
elaborate ceremonial, while at the same time it was frequently 3
hotbed of intrigue and immorality. The Grand Comneni wera
also patrons of art and learning, and in consequence of this Trebi-
zond was resorted to by many eminent men, by whose agency
the library of the palace was provided with valuable roanuscripta
and the city was adorned with splendid buildings. The writers
of the time speak with enthusiasm of its lofty towers, of the
churches and monasteries in the suburbs, and especially of the
gardens, orchards, and olive groves. It excited the admiration of
Gonzales Clavijo, the Spanish envoy, when he passed through it
on his way to visit the court of Timur at Samarkand fClaWjo,
Historia del Gran Tamorlan, p. 84) ; and Cardinal Bessarion, who
was a native of the place, in the latter part of his life, when the
city had passed into the hands of the Jlohammeduns', and he was
himself a dignitary of the Roman Church, so littlu forgot the im-
pression it had made upon him that he wrote a work entitled "The
Praise of Tre'bizond" (^i.yKwiJLiov TpairefoCvros), uhich exists in
manuscript at Venice. Little was known of thn history of the
empire of Trebizond until the subject was taken in hand by Prof.
Fallmerayer of Munich, who discovered the chrouicle of Michael
Panaretus among the books of Cardinal Bes.sarion, and from that
work, and other sources of information which were chiefly unknown
up to that time, compiled his GcschicMe des Raiserthums vm
TrapczuTit (Munich, 1827). Finlay's- account of tho period, in tho
fourth volume of his HUtory of Greece, is based on this. From
time to time the emperors of Trebizond paid tribute to the Seljiik"
sultans of Iconium, to the grand khans of the Mongols, to Timur
the Tartar, to the Turcoman chieftain.^ and to the iHtomans; but
by means of skilful negotiations they were enabled practically to
secure their independence. We find them also at war with many
of these powers, and with the Genoese, who endeavoured to
monopolize the commerce of the BlacK Sea. The city was several
times besieged, th^ most formidable attack being that which
occurred in the reign of Andronicus I., the second emperor, when
the Seljiiks, under the command of Melik, the son of the great
sultan Ala-ed-din, first assaulted the irorthernwall in the direction
of the sea, and afterwards endeavoured to storm the upper citadel
by night They failed, however, in both attempts ; and in tho
latter, owing to the darkness, and to the occurrence of a violent
storm which suddenly swelled the torrents in the ravines, their
force was thrown into inextricable confusion, and they wer« com-
pelled to abandon their camp and make the best of their escape
from the country. So great was the strength of the fortifications
that, when Jlohammed II. turned his thoughts towards the subju-
gation of this state, he might have experienced much difficulty in
reducing it, and might have been disposed to oiler favourable
terms, had it not been for the pusillanimous conduct of David, the
last emperor, who surrendered the place almost unconditionally.
Several interesting monuments of this period remain at Trebizond
in the form of churches in the Byzantine style of architecture.
One of these is within the area of the old city, viz., the church of
the Paiiaghia Chrysokephalos, or Virgin of the Golden Head, a
largo and massive but excessively plaiu building, which is now the
Orta-hissar mosque. On the further side of the eastern ravine
stands a smaller but very well proportioned structure, the church
of St Eugenius, the patron saint of Trebizond, now the Yeni Djuma
djami, or 2\ew Friday mosque. Still more important is the church
of Haghia Sophia, which occupies a conspicuous position overlook-
534
T R E — T R E
ing the sea, abont two miles to the west ot the city. The porches
of this are handsomely ornamented, and ahout a hundred feet from
it rises a tall campanile, the inner walls of which have been covered
in parts with frescos of religioas subjects, though these are now
much defaced. But the most remarkable memorial of the Mid ! Is
Ages that existrin all this district is the monastery of Sumelas,
which is situated among the mountains, about 25 miles from
Trebizond, at the side of a rocky glen, at a height of 4000 feet
above the sea. Its position is most extraordinary, for it occupies
a cavern in the middle of the face of a perpendicular cliffa thousand
feet high, where the white buildings offer a marked contrast to the
brown rock which forms their setting. It is approached bj' a
zigzag path at the side of the cliif, from which a flight of stone
stops and a wooden staircase give access to the monastery. The
valley below is filled with the richest vegetation, the undergrowth
being largely composed of azaleas and rhododendrons. An antiquity
of 1500 years is claimed for the foundation of the monastery, but
it is certain that the first person who raised it to importance was
the emperor Alexius Comnenus III. of Trebizond ; he rebuilt it in
1360, and richly endowed it. The golden bull of that emperor,
which became thenceforth the charter of its foundation, is still
preserved ; it is one ot the finest specimens of such documents,
and contains portraits of Alexius himself and his queen. The
monastery also possesses the firman of Mohammed II. by which he
accorded his protection to the monks when he became master of
the country. (ll. F. T.)
TREDEGAH, a tovm of Monmouthshire, England, is
situated on the Sirhowy river, and on the Loudon and
North Western Railway system, 7 miles east-north-east of
Merthyr Tydvil and £49 west of London. The town owes
its existence to the establishment in the beginning of the
century of the works of the Tredegar Iron and Coal
Company, who lease the soil and minerals from Lord
Tredegar. The iron-works, chiefly for the smelting of
iron and the manufacture of iron and steel rails, are of
enormous extent, and employ upwards of 4000 men. The
town is also surrounded by iron and coal mines, the pro-
perty of the company. It consists chiefly of workmen's
houses, bat is built with regularity and neatness, the prin-
cipal streets diverging from an open space called the
Circle, in the centre of the town, where there are a number
of good shops. The church of St George is a tasteful
modern building in the Norman style. The temperance
hall, union workhouse, and literary institute and library
deserve notice. The population of the urban sanitary
district (area 7029 acres), a small portion of which is in
Brecknockshire, in 1871 was 16,989 and in 1881 it was'
18,771.
TREE-CREEPER, one of -the smallest of British birds,
and, regard being had to its requirements, one very gene-
rally distributed. It is the Certkta familians of ornitho-
logy, and remarkable for the stiflfened shafts of its long
and pointed taO-feathers, aided by which, and by its com-
paratively large feet, it climbs nimbly, in a succession of
jerks, the trunks or branches of trees, invariably proceed-
ing upwards or outwards and generally in a spiral direc-
tion, as it seeks the small insects that are hidden in the
bark and form its chief food. When in the course of its
search it nears the end of a branch or the top of a trunk,
it flits to another, always alighting lower down than the
place it has left, and so continues its work.
InconspicnoDs in colour, for its upper plumage is mostly of
various shades of brown mottled with white, buff, and tawny, and
beneath it is ol a silvery white, the Tree-Creeper is far more common
than the iiicunous suppose ; but, attention once drawn to it, it can
be frequently seen and at times he-ird, for though a shy singer
its song is loud and sweet. The nest is neat, generally placed in
a chink formed by a half-detached piece of bark, which secures it
from observation, and a considerable mass of material is commonly
used to partly stuff up the opening and give a sure foundation for
the tiny cup, in which are laid from six to uine eggs of a translucent
white, spotted or blotched with rust-colour. The Tree-Creeper
inhabits almost the whole of Europe as well as Algeria, and has
been traced across Asia to Japan. It is now recognized as an
inhabitant of the greater part of Norti America, though for a time
examples from that part ot the world, which differed slightly
in the tinge of the plumage, were accounted a distinct species
(C americana), and even those from Mexico and Giiatemala (C.
mcxUana) have lately been referred to the same. It therefore
occupies an area not exceeded in extent by that of many Passerine;.
birds, and is one of the strongest witnesses to the close alliance of
the so-called Nearctic and Palaearctic Regions.
Allid to the Tree-Crecpcr, but wanting its lengthened and sti^
tail-feathers, is the genus Tichcdroma, the single member of whidfe
is the Wall-Creeper (2'. muraria) of the Alps and some other-
mountainous parts of Europe and Asia, and occasionally seen by
the fortunate visitor to Switzerland fluttering like a big butterfly
against the face of a rock, conspicuous from the scarlet-crimson of
its wing-coverts and its white spotted primaries. Its bright hue is
hardly visible wheu the bird is at rest, and it tien presents a dingy
appearance of grey and black. It is a species of wide range, ex-
tending from Si>aiQ to China; and, though but .wldom leaving its
cliffs, it has wandered even so far as England. Jlerrett (Pinax, p.
177) in 1667 included it as a British bird, and the correspondence
between Marsham and Gilbert White {Proc Norf. and Norw. Nat.
Society, ii. p. 180) proves that an example was shot in Norfolk, 30tb
October 1792 ; while another is reported [Zoologist, ser. 2, p. 4839)
to have been killed in Lancashire, 8th May 1872.
The genus Certhia as founded by Linnaeus contained
25 species, all of which, except the two above mentioned,
have now been shewn to belong elsewhere ; and for a long
while so many others were referred to it that it became a
most heterogeneous company. At present, so few are tlie
forms left in the Family Certhiidx that systematists are
not wanting to unite it with the Sittidx {cf. Nuthatch),
for the two groups, however much their e.\-treme members
may diflfer, are linked by so many forms which still exist
that little violence is done to the imagination by drawing
upon the past for others to complete the series of descend-
ants from a common and not very remote ancestor, one
that was possibly the ancestor of the Wrexs (q.v.) as well.
One thing, however, has especially to be noticed here. The
Certhiides have not the least aflSnity to the Picidx {cf.
Woodpecker, infra), but are strictly Passerine, though
the Australian genus Climacteric may possibly not belong
to them. (a. a.)
TREE-FERN. In old and well-grown specimens of
some of the famihar ferns of our temperate climates the
wide-spreading crown of fronds may be observed to rise at
a distance often of a good many inches above the surface
of the ground, and from a stem of considerable thickness.
The common male fern Sephrodium. (Lastrssa) furnishes
the commonest instance of this ; higher and thicker trunks
are, however, occasionally presented by the royal fern
{Osmvnda regalis), in which a height of 2 feet may be
attained, and tliis with very considerable apparent thick-
ness, due, however, to the origin and descent of a new
series of adventitious roots from the bases of each annual-
set of fronds. Some tropical members and allies of these
genera become more distinctly tree-like, e.g., Todea ; Picns
also has some sub-arboreal forms. Oleandra is branched
and shrub-like, while Angioptens and Marattia {Marat-
tiaceie) may also rise to 2 feet or more. But the tree-ferns
proper are practically included within the family Cyaihe-
acese. This includes five genera (Cyat/iea, Alsophita,
Bemitelict, Dicksonia, Balanttum) and nearly 200 species,
of which a few are herbaceous, but the majority arboreal
and palm-like, reaching frequently a height of 50 feet or
more, Alsophila excelsa of Norfolk Island having some-
times measured 60 to 80 feet. The fronds are rarely
simple or simply pinnate, but usually tripinnate or decom-
pound, and may attain a length of 20 feet, thus forming a
splendid crown of foliage. The stem may occasionally
branch into many crowns. The genera are of wide geo-
graphical range, mostly of course within the tropics of the
Old and New World ; but South Australia, New Zealand,
and the Southern Pacific islands all possess their tree-ferns.
In Tasmania Alsophila atistralis has been found up to the
snow-level, and in the humid and mountainous regions of
the tropics tree-ferns are also found to range up to a con-
siderable altitude. The fronds may either contribute to
the apparent thickness of the stem by leaving more or less
T R E — T R E
535
I
of their bases, which become hardened and persistent, or
they may be articulated to the stem and tall off, leaving
characteristic scars in spiral series upon the stem. The
stem is frequently much increased in apparent thickness
by the downgrowth of aerial roots, forming a black coating
several inches or even a foot in thickness, but its essential
structure differs little in principle from that familiar in the
rhizome of the common bracken (Ptens). To the ring or
rather netted cylinder of fibro-vascular bundl'^s character-
istic of all fern stems scattered internal as well as external
bundles arising from these are superadded , and in a tree-
fern these are of course in greater numbers. The outer
bundles give off branches to the descending roots from the
region where they pass into the leaves.
Tree-ferns arc of course cultivated for their beauty alone ; a few,
however, are of some economic apphcations, chiefly as sources of
starch. Thus the beautiful ^Isophita exceUa of Norfolk Island is
said to be threatened with extinction for tho sake of its sago-like
pith, which is greedily eaten by hogs ; Cyalhea metiidlaris also
furoishes a kind of sago to the natives of New Zealand, Queens-
land, and the Pacific islands. A Javanese species of Vicbsonia
{D. chrysotricha) furnishes silky hairs, which have been imported
as a styptic, and tlie long silky or rather woolly hairs, so abundant
on the stem and frond-leaves in the various species of Ciholium,
have not only been put to a similar use, but in the Sandwich
Islands furnish wool foi stuffing mattresses and cushions, which
was formerly an article of export. The "Tartarian lamb," or
■ Agnus sajlhiciis of old travellers' tales in China and Tartary, is
simply the woolly stock of C. Baroinelz, which, when dried and
inverted and all save four of its frond-stalks cut away, has a droll
resemblance to a toy sheep.
See Fbks: J Smith. Historia Filicum; Lirerssen, J^fd. Pharm. Botanik', and
(or the structure of the stera, De Bary's Tergleich, Anatomic d. Fhanerttg. u.
Fame.
TREGELLES, Samuel Prideaus (1813-1875), New
Testament scholar, was born at Wodehouse Place, near
Falmouth, on January 30, 1813. His parents were
Quakers, and he himself for many years was in communion
with the (Darbyite) Plymouth Brethren, but latterly he
became a member of the Church of England. He was
educated at Falmouth grammar school, and afterwards,
without having attended any university, held various
modest educational appointments, but finally devoted
himself entirely to a laborious student life, until he was
incapacitated for literary work by paralysis in 1870. He
died at Plymouth on April 24, 1875.
Most of his numerous publications had reference to his great'
critical edition of the New Testament (see Bible, vol. iii. p. 648).
They include an Account of the Printed Text of the Greek New
TcstamcrU (1854), a new edition of Home's Introduction (I860),
and Carum ^fuTttlorianus . Earliest CaUxlogiie of Books of the New
Testament (1868). As early as l.'J44 he published an edition of
the Apocalypse, with the Greek text so revised as to rest almost
entirely upon- ancient evidence. Tiegelles wrote Heads''' Hebrew
Grammar (1852), translated Geseniiis's Hebrcto Lexieou, and was
the author of a little work on theVa>Koi«(s (1851) and of various
works in e.itposition of his special eschatological views {Jiemarks on
the Prophelie Visions of Daniel, 1852, new ed. 1864).
TREMATODA, popularly known as " flukes," form one
of the three main divisions of the flatworms or Plnlyhel-
minthes. They have been defined thus (.Jackson, 1):' —
" Unisegmental Vermes, with a flattish, leaf-like, more or
less cylindrical body provided with organs of adhesion in the
shape of suckers and sometimes of chitinoid hooks. The
cuticle, so called, appears to be a metamorphosed layer of
cells. There is a well-developed nervous system, the
ganglia of which are entirely supra-pharyngeal, i.e., dorsal.
There is a mouth, and an alimentary canal which is usually
forked, but no anus. The e.xcretory system has the form
of more or less branching tubes commencing with flame-
cells, and either ending in a contractile vesicle or opening
by two independent orifices. Hermaphrodite self-impreg-
nation occurs, as well as reciprocal impregnation. The
embryo either develops direct into the sexual form (mono-
genetic Tremaioda) or gives origin to a series of inter-
' T.he.se tigares refer to the bibliography at the end of the article.
mediate non-sesual dimorphic forms (digenetic Treiruxtoda).
Parasitic."
Hislorkal Sketch. — Some of the more salient points id
the history of our knowledge of these animals have already
been alluded to in the article Parasitism (q.v.) , a few
additional facts must, however, be mentioned here. The
Trematoda were first formed into a group by Rudolphi (2),
who included in it the following genera . — Monostmna,
Ampliistoma, Distoma, Tristoma, Paitastoma, and Poll/-
stoma ; the name had reference to the suckers, which
Rudolphi regarded as being for the most part openings
into the body (Gr. tfj^/xo, an aperture). Some of these
forms were soon perceived to have but small connexion
with the others ; and Cuvier (3) reduced the whole to one
genus, for which he adopted the name Fasciola, Lino. The
Pentastomes have since been transferred to the Arachnida
Our scientific acquaintance with the group may be said
to date from 1831, when Mehlis noticed that the eggs of
certain Distomes hatched into a minute ciliated body with
an eye-speck resembling an Infusorian, an observation
which gave the key to the life-history of these forms.
Von Siebold in 1833 (4) supplemented this discovery by
the observation that the ciliated eiiibryo of Moiwstomum
mutabile contained, as a "necessary parasite," as it was
termed, an organism identical with the " kingsyellow
worm " (Redia), found by Bojanus in pond-snails, and Von
'Baer had previously shown (5) that these gave rise to
free-swimming organisms not unlike tailed Trematodes.
The materials were thus ready to hand for a co-ordination
of the whole life-history, and Steenstrup recognized it as
an instance of the so-called " alternation of generations "
(6). These researches received important additions at the
hands of Pagenstecher (7) and others, who showed experi-
mentally that encysted Distomes grow mature directly after
their transference from one host to another, and thus that
a migration is necessary to the attainment of their mat-
urity. Diesing's great work (8) appeared in 1850, and
has formed the groundwork of all subsequent treatises on
the systematic arrangement of parasitic worms, although
it included forms which really belong to quite different
groups. In 1861 Van Beneden gained a prize offered by
the French Academy by his elaborate memoir on the intes-
tinal worms (9), in which he not only described many new
and interesting forms, but gave anatomical details regard-
ing others previously known, and entered into detailed
comparisons between the Cestodes and Trematodes, both
in their adult and immature states. Of recent years the
chief additions to our knowledge have been more in the
direction of further details regarding the structure and
life-history of special forms than the elaboration of new
general principles.
Anatoynij. — In endeavouring to give a very brief account of the
more saliclit ]>oiiits in the anatomy of th Trematoda it has been
thought expedient to select some well-known form as a type,
and afterwards to indicate the chjracter^ in which other speciw
differ fioni it ; for this pur(iose tho common liver-fluke, Fasciola
{Dislnmmii) luyrUica has been chosen, as it is not unfrequently
found in the bilc-ducts of siiccp and other domestic animals, and
constitutes a scourge much drc^idod by farmers. The account hero
given is in the m^iin absti-actcd from yommer (10).
External Apptarancc. — The animal lias a flattened oval shape, with
a sub-triangular process on the broader end, which represents the
hcd. The total length varies from :^0 to 35 mm., the breadth from
6 to 12 mm. On superficial examination two narrower lateral areas
may generally bo disti.iguished from a broader median one , the
former are occasionally of a coarsely granular appearance and
icddishbiowii or orange in colour, and increase in breadth towards
the posterior end of the body, where they commonly unite. The
median area is commonly greyish-yellow in colour, sometimes
spotted with black ; its anterior portion corresponds to the uteres,
the posterior to the testes. Two sncijcrs (fig. 1, A, o, s) are in the
middle line of the body; one is at tHe anterior extremity, and i»
directed forwards and somewhat downwards ; it is known as tba
636
T R E M A T 0 D A
anterior or oral sucker, being perforated by the cc-sophagus. The
posterior or ventral sucker ia situated, as ics name implies, on the
inferior surface of the body, just behind the head-papilla. The
FlO. 1.— A, Fcuetckt hepatica, from tbe rentral surface (x 2) ; the alimenrnry and
nervoua systems oaly shown on the left eide of lliu figure, the cxcvetory only
OD the rigbt. a, right ronln branch of the iotestine; c, a diverticulum; g.
Literal ganglion ; n, lateral nerve; o, mouth, p, pharynx; s, ventral sucker;
ct, cimu sac ; d, left anterior dorsal excretory vessel ; m, ronln vessel ; i>, left
aDbeiiQr ventral trunk ; x, excretory pore. B, Anterior portion more highly
magnified (from Marshall and Hurst, after Sommcr). cs. cirrus sac ; d, ductus
ejacutatorius ; /, female aperture; o, ovary: orf, oviduct; p, penis; s. shell-
gland ; (, anterior testis; u, uterus ; va, vp, vasa deferentla; vs. vesicula semin-
olla; y, yolk-gland; yd, itsduct C, genital sinus and neighbouring parts
(from Sommer). a, ventral sucker ; 6. cirrus sac ; c, genital pore ; d, evaglnated
cirrus sac (? penis) ; e. end of vagina ; /, vjisa deferentia ; g, vesicula seminalis»;
A. ductna ejaculatorius: t, accessory gland. D. A ciMuted funnel from the ex-
cretory apparatus, highly magoified (from Fraipont.) o, orifice of the funnel.
E, Egg oi-~Faseu>la hepatica ; x 330 (from Thomas).
suckers measure on an average about 1 mm. in 'diameter, the ven-
tral being slightly the larger. The internal organs communicate
with tbe outer world by four apertures :— (1) the mouth (o), situated
at tbe antel^iior pole of tlie body and perforating the oral sucker ;
(2) the excretory pore (x), placed at the opposite extremity, and
giving exit to the effete products; (3) the poms genitalis {fig. 1, B,
p), leading into a sinus into which the duets of both sets of genital
organs open, — it is to be found on the under surface of the hea.d-
papilla at or near it5 centre ; (4) the opening of the Laurer-Stieda
canal, situated on th*^ dorsal surface of the animal, near the junction
of the two portions of the median area, — it Is excessively minute
and difficult of detection, and leads by a narrow canal into the duct
of the yolk-gland.
InUr-iial StrvHure. —All TrcTnaloda have been commonly re-
garded, like other flat-worms, aa devoid of a body-cavity (ccelom),
and as consisting of parenchymatous tissue, in which the various
organs were embedded. Recent researches of Fraipont (15) appear
to show, however, that the intercellular spaces in this tissue are to
be regarded as the homologue of a ccelom. The body is enclosed
by a complex sheath (cortex), which may be resolved into several
layers, which will be discussed in order, proceeding from without
inwards, (i) The cuticle, which encloses the wjiole body, is a thin,
pellucid, structureless membrane; at the margin of the mouth it is
reflected so as to form a lining for the oesophagus, and similarly at
the opening of the genital sinus it passes inwards to form a lining
to the vagina. The same phenomenon is observed at the excret-
ory aperture. By the apphcatioil of ammonia the cutide may be
separated from the subjacent tissues and its peculiarities demon-
strated; -although apparently smooth to the naked eye, it presents
under the microscope numerous sharp backwardly directed pro-
cesses, cacb of which encloses a hard stylet-shaped body. These
prominences are closely set over the whole body except immediately
around the suckers, extending even into the interior of tbe sinua
genitalis. The cuticle is furthermore perforated by innumerable
fine pores, directed outwards and somewhat backwards. With
regard to the homology of tbe cutule of Trematodi^ the same un-
certainty prevails as to the case of Cestodes (see T.\rE-WoRMs) ,
the general opinion is that it is not comparable with the chitin-
ous cuticle of Arthropoda, but is either a specially developed base-
ment-membrane (Kerbert, H) or a layer of modified cells (Ziegler,
12, and Schwarze, 13). (2) The outer cellular layer is the matrix
of the cuticle. (3) The muscular coat consists of three diflcrent
layers — (i. ) a thin layer ot circular fibres; (ii.) the longitudinal
muscles, which form a aeries of separate bundles; {iii. ) the oblique
muscles, confined to tbe anterior half or third of the body, and
crossing so as to forui a rhomboidal lattice- work, — they are espe-
cially strong on the anterior ventral aspect of the animal. (4) Tho
inner cellular layer consists of elements which closely resemble those
of the outer, but are somewhat larger; they have been mistaken by
various observers for cuticular glands. The suckers may be con-
sidered as parts of the cortical layer ; speaking generally, each has
the form oi the segment of a sphere, although the anterior one is
shallower at the lower than at the upper margin, and is penetrated
by the oesophagus. Each consists of three sets of muscles, — a thin
outer equatorial layer, a second meridional, and a mass of radially
disposed fibres forming the greater part of the substance. It would
appear that the function of the first two of these groups is to Ratten
out the sucker, whilst the radial ones restore its cavity and thus
produce a suctorial action. To the ventral sucker are attached a
number of muscular fibres belonging to the dorso-ventral system,
and in particular a strong bundle, which passes from behind down-
wards and forwards.
The digestive system {fig. 1, A), the presence of which furnishes Digeotive
one of the most characteristic differences between Trematodes and syitein.
Cestodes, extends throughout the body on a plane between tho
peripheral nervous and reproductive systems. It has only one
aperture, as above mentioned, in the centre of the anterior sucker.
The anterior portion or pharynx, although very .«ihort, measuring
not much more than 1 mm. in length, is again divisible into two
sections. The hinder of these is the larger, and is sometimes spher-
oidal but more commonly fusiform in shape , it has strong muscular
walls, which, in conjunction with protractor and retractor musi^les,
bring about a kind of pumping action whereby nutritive fluids are
taken into the stomach, which name may be applied to the larger
posterior section of the alimentary tract, since in it the digestive
processes are carried on. The canal, which leads from the posterior
end of the pharynx, divides almost immediately into two branches,
which diverge at first rapidly and then run almost parallel, as far as
the hinder end of the body. Each of these gives off from its outer
aspect some 16 or 17 lateral branches (c), which divide and sub-
divide till their ramifications fill nearly the whole area of the body.
The digestive tract is lined by a layer of simple cells, resembling
a cylinder epithelium. These behave towards the blood coqmscles
and other contents of tbe intestine exactly as would a number of
Ama:bEE, putting out processes or pseudopodia, which ingest them, —
so that, in common with many of the lower Invertebrates, the liver-
fluke lives by "intracellular digestion " (see Metschnikoff, 14).
The canals of the excretory system (m) may be divided into three Excretory
gT0U(»3. (1) The collecting netvt'ork consists of very fine tubules system,
which anastomose freely with each other; they are situated on the
boundary between the cortical and middle layers, and are therefore
visible from either side of the body. (2) Conducting vessels (y, d)
receive the contents of this network. Each of these is formed by
the union of a larger or smaller number of the delicate canals just
described, and after a longer or shorter course opens into the median
excretory canal (m). On the way, however, it communicates with
the neighbouring vessels, so that a second network is formed, which
is distinguished from that of the collecting tubules by the greater
size of its meshes and by the fact that it is specially visible from
the dorsal surface of the animal. In the head four of these con-
ducting vessels arise, which are disposed in two pairs, one situated
dorsally and one ventrally. As they pass backwards they receive
many branches, the dorsal unites with tho ventral of its own side,
and the two tubes thus formed unite to constitute the last division
of the excretory system. (3) The median vessel (?n) passes along
the body for the posterior two-thirds of its len^h, immediately
beneath the dorsal cortical layer It is widest near the commence-
ment, where it measures about 0'5 mm. in diameter, and finally
opens at the posterior extremity of the body. The wall of the
excretory apparatus is constituted everywhere by an exceedingly
delicate elastic membrane, which exhibits neither a cellular lining
nor ciUa; furthermore, neither valves nor musclfes have been de-
monstrated in connexion with it. It contains a thin colourless
fluid, in which very small highly refractive drops are suspended.
The details of the termination of the excretory system seem to
have been first clearly made out by Fraipont (15), who worked
upon species in which they are more distinct than in the form now
under consideration. The spaces between the round connective-
tissue cells of the body are star-shaped in form, and into these the
TREMATODA
537
finest eicKtcry tub.iles, above nientioiicJ, op«o by funnels (fig. !,
i>), into each of which projects a vibratile cilinm, thus constituting
the so-calleJ "flatne-cells." These researehes have given rise to
numerous differences of opinion, as regards questions both of fact
(16) and of priority (17).
Repro- The liver-fluke contains a complete set of male and female organs,
dnotivt which form the most conspicuous part of its anatomy, and both of
organs, which open into the genital sinus which has been described above.
A. The Male Organs, (i. ) The testes (fig. 1, B, t) aro two in number,
situated one behind the other in the hinder division of the median
area. They rest upon the ventral cortical layer in the parenchyma
of the body, and immediately above them are the ramifications of
the digestive tract. Each consists of a large number of ramifying
tubes, often with slightly dilated extremities. These unite into
three or four, and eventually into two, main excretory dacts (m,
ty), which terminate at the base of the cirrus-pouch. Within the
testicular tubules may be found spermatozoa in all stages of de-
velopment; the first stage appears to consist of small roundish
membraneless cells with a single nucleus; the nucleus then divides
and the cells become polygonal from mutual pressure. These large
cells lie in the middle rather than at the sides of the tube, and
among them are a number which, while- they possess on one side a
smooth evenly rounded contour, are on thp other very irregularly
and deeply serrated. These serrations elongate until they become
the delicate filaments of spermatozoa, the small shining heads of
which lire still embedded in the protoplasm of the coll. (ii.) The vasa
deferentia (ra, ly) are a pair of slender elongated canals, which lie
on the two sides of the middle line, and unite at the inner extremity
of the cirrus-pouch, which they penetrate in common. Their walls
consist of a very delicate homogeneous but resistant membrane,
upon which contractile fibres are disposed, close together and
parallel to the a.tis. (iii.) The cirrus-pouch (c s) is a muscular egg-
shaped organ ; the upper pole, which receives the united vasa
deferentia, is situated above the ventral sucker and separated by
only a very sliglit interval from the dorsal cortical layer.-whilst
the position of the lower pole is indicated by the porus genitalis {p).
The mnscles are disposed in two layers, of which the inner is thin
and composed of circular fibres; the outer longitudinal layer is
much thicker, and its fibres are disposed in bundles ; furthermore
its apex receives a large number of dorso-ventral fibres. Within
the cirrus-pouch the two terminal sections of the male conducting
apparatus are situated, (iv. ) The first of these is the vesicula sernin-
alis (fig. 1, B, vs; C, g), a large, spindle-shaped dilatation of the canal
usually more or less curved upon itsejf Its wall is somewhat more
complex than that of the vasa deferentia, consisting of a layer of
tissue with many nuclei but no distinct cell-boundaries, succeeded
by a delicate layer of circular muscular fibres, which is again fol-
lowed by a layer of longitudinal ones, (v.) The ductus ejaculatorius
(fig. 1, C, A), which immediately succeeds the vesicula seminalis, is
a long slender tube, disposed in coils, and usually projecting like
A papilla into the base of the sinus genitalis. Its walls are furnished
with a number of unicellular glands. B: The Female Organs.
The female reproductive apparatus may be roughly, divided into
two portions, that which produces the eggs and that which conveys
them to the outside of the body ; in the former of these processes
three organs take part— one producing the germ, another the second-
ary or food-yolk, and a third the egg-shell, (i.) The geimarium or
3vary-(fig. 1, B, o) is situated between the anterior testis and the ven-
tral sucker, in about three cases out of four on the right hand side of
the body. It has the form- of a branching tubular gland, the rami-
fication being dichotoraous throughout; in most cases the branches
are about as large as the stems which give rise to them. The ovi-
duct passes towards the shell-gland, narrowing as it approaches this,
and finally unites with the excretory duct of the yolk-glands, (ii. )
Tie yolk-glands (y) of the liver-fluke are paired organs of consider-
able size; they extend over both lateral areas, to which they impart
the opaque appearance and reddish colour above alluded to. They
are composed of innumerable email acini, spheroidal in shape and
situated in groups on minute ductules, which unite to form a longi-
tudinal canal on either side-of the body. These canals are on the
whole parallel to the margins of the animal and distant from it
about one-fifth of its greatest breadth. At' the anterior margin of
the testicular area each longitudinal canal gives off a transverse
branch, which unites with its fellow of the opposite side in the
niiddle'Une to form a pear-shaped reservoir, situated just behind
the posterior margin of the shell-gland. From this reservoir the
common, yolk-duct passes forwards in the substance of the sliell-
gland and there uiiites with the oviduct. Previously to this, how-
ever, it gives off a minute canal, which after an upward course opens
on the dorsal surface of the animal ; it is known as the Laurer-
Stieda cnnal, and its function has been the subject of much discus-
sion. It has been siipposcd (1) " to serve for copulatory purposes "
OS has been seen by Zeller (18) in Puhjstovmm; and as is supported
S''*/'™^'"''^ in Axine and Microcolylc, and (2) " to act as a safety
tube for the escape of over-abundant or altered vitelline products
and spermatozoa, ' the main argument in support of which is that
Va oaUbre is too narrow to admit of copulation taking place by
2.3—20*
iU means; compare Sonimer (10), Kerbert (11), Poirier (19), Looss
(20), and Lorenz (21). (iii. ) The uterus or female conducting appa-
ratus («) originates at the union of the ducts of the germarium
and yolk-gland. Its first portion, which lies within the shell-gland,
is a delicate narrow canal, except when it is distended either by
eggs or by semen. The median section of the organ is by far the
largest both in length and breadth ; it occupies almost the whole
of the anterior part of the median area of the animal, between the
ventral sucker and the shell-gland, and forms four or five large coils
lying alternately right and left, which as a rule arc filled witli com-
pletely formed eggs. The third section of this organ includes the
coils which lie aboj-e and anterior to the ventral sucker ; it is some-
times called the vagina. When it contains eggs these are generally
ill a single file, and thus giveitamoniliform appearance ; it lies en-
tirely on the left side of the body, gradually approaching the middle
line as it passes forward, until it ends below the cirrus-pouch at the
left and posterior aspect of the genital pore (fig. 1, C, c). (iv.) The
shell-gland (fig. 1, B, s), which (as its name implies) furnishes the
external coating of the eggs, has been already several times men-
tioned. In the Trematodes, as in the tape-worms, it forms a kind
of central point of the female generative system ; it is a spheroidal
mass of unicellular glands, each of which opens by its owil special
duct into the commencement of the uteru.s. The secretion of the
shell-gland is liberated in the form of small pellucid droplets, which
unite to form drops ; afterwards it becomes thick and viscid and of
a mahorany brown colour. In this condition the drops are dis-
persed through the uterus mixed with the secretions of the other
genital glands, and they apply themselves to the recently formed
eggs, producing a delicate membrane around them. This process
is carried on in those coils of the uterus which lie immediately out-
side the shell-gland, corresponding to the "ootype" described by
Van Beneden in other Trematodes.
The eggs undergo a gradual development as they pass along the
uterus. The ripe primitive ovum, on entering the female conduct-
ing apparatus, becomes coated with a larger or smaller number of
spherules of secondary yolk, and then undergoes the process of
segmentation which leads to the formation of a morula. At this
point it receives the secretion of the shell-gland. The completely
termed egg (fig. 1, E) has a length of 0 13 mm. and is ovoid in shape.-
with a small lid or operculum at the broader end ; its contents
consist of a number of roundly polygonal cells, with only a small
quantity of secondary yolk remaining, among them. All of these
but one have a thick granular protpplasm, the exceptional cell
having homogeneous and strongly refracting contents. It usually
lies immediately under the operculum, and is partly embedded in
the other cells. They are often present in the bile-ducts in such
quantities as to form -a stiff brownish mass resembling wet sand,
and the number produced by a single fluke has been estimated at
half a million.
The mode of fertilization of the liver-fluke has given rise to inuch
discussion. According to Sommer, the organ which has usually
been described as a cirrus or penis is merely the genital sinus eva-
ginated by abnormal pressure (fig; 1, C, d) ; it is furthermore but
ill-adapted to enter either of the canals which could possibly servo
as a vagina. He is therefore of opinion that self-impregnation
occurs, the external aperture being closed by the oblique muscles,
and the semen passing directly from the vas deferens througli the
genital sinus into the uterus. The whole question of the fertiliza-
tion ofthe Trematodes is a matter on which very varied opinions
have been expressed, even by authors who have examined the same
forms. The assertion of Von Siebold that a direct internal com-
munication exists between the male and female organs has been
denied by Stieda (22) and by many subsequent writere, but has been
restated by Lorenz (21) and by Zeller in the case of Polystomum
iMegemmum. (18) ; however this may be, there can be no doubt
that self-impregnation does occur in certain cases. The structure
of the organs renders it more than probable in some species (see
Poirier, 19, p. 582) ; Zaddaeh has observed it actually taking place
in Dwlomum cirrigenim encysted in Astacus (23), and a single Poly-
slomum integcrrimum has been found in a frog's bladder with sperm
in the female passages. Reciprocal fertilization, in which two in-
dividuals -act both as mal^ and female simultaneously, has been
recorded by Zeller in Pohislmmim integcrrimum, by Looss (20) in
Distomum clavigcrum, and by Cobbold in Distomum eampula.
The neivous system consists of a commissure passing round the Nervoui
oesophagus very obliquely, and swelling out into ganglia at three system,
points. Tristamum molm possesses eyes of an extremely simple
type, the retina being merely a ganglion cell (Lang, 24). ,
Life-Eistary and Development.— The life-history of Fasciold
hepatiea was worked out indejiendently by Thomas (25) and
Leuckart (26) ; regarding the question of priority see Jackson (27).
The development of the cmbrj'O can only take place outside the
body of the host and at a lower temperature, the most favourable
be;rtg from 23° to 26° C, at which the process occupies two or three
weeks. The free embryo (fig. 2, A ) is conical in shape, with a rounded
apex, its average lengtli being 013 mm. At the broader anterior
end is a retractile liead-papilla, with tlie exception of which the body
XXni. — 68
538
TREMATODA
is ciliated all over. The interior of the body is composed of granular
nucleated cells^ and it coTitains a double eye-spot, composed of two
crescentic masses of pigment. There are also two cHiated funnels
forming the rudiments of tlio excretory system and a granular mass
behind the head-papilla, probably representing the digestive tract.
The embryo swims actively about, but if it does not succeed in nieet-
ingtl>£ appropriate host for its next stage of development {ZimssKS
triincatuius, a small pond snail) its period of vitality seems to be
limited to about eight-houis. If it should meet with one of these
A
I.
FlO. 3.— Five stages In the life-history of Faseioh hepatiea ; all highly magnified.
A, The free-swimmine embryo. B, A sporocyst containing young redlED. C,
A young rediu, tiio digestiTe tract shaded. D, An adnlt redia, containing a
daughtcr-redia, two almost matuie ccicaria, and germs.. E. A free ccrcarla.
The letters have the same significance throughout, e. neaily ripe cercaria?;
ce, cystogenous cells; dr, daughter-jedla; dt, limbs of tha dlgcstivfe tract;
/, head-paplUa ; h, eye-spots ; h', same degenerating ; *', germinal cell ; /.cells
of Ihe anterior row ; 7n. embryo in optical section. gasUulaatagG ; n, pharynx
of redIa ; o, digestive sac ; oe, cesophagus ; p, lips of redia ; ?, collar ; r, processes
serving as rudimentary feet; t, embryos;^, trabccuis crossing body-cavity of
redia ; u. glandular cells (?) ; v, birth-opening; tr, w", morulre ; v, oral sucker ;
I/*, ventral sucker; r, pharyas. (AH from Marshall and Hurst after Thomaa.)
euails it applies the head-papilla to some part of its surface and
begins to bore, twisting round and round on its axis by means of
its cilia, the head-papilla. becoming pointed and elongated to four
or fivo times its original length. Eventually the tissues of the
enail are. separated as if by a wedge, and a gap is formed through
which the embryo forces an entrance into its body. Here it under*
f;oes a metamorphosis, losing its organs of locomotion and becora-
ng what is tertfled a "sporocyst" (tig. 2, B). This ia an elliptical
sac, which commonly attains a length of 07 mm. Its wall con-
sists'of a structureless cuticle, beneath which. are external, circular,
and internal longitudinal muscIe-Sbrcs. These are succeeded by
an epithelium, the elements of which vary greatly in size. These
aporocysts may bo produced by a process of transverse fission.
Within the sporocyst rounded masses of cells are formed (morulsp),
which undergo a process of invagination, producing a gastrula,
which again Jevelops by the formation of a digestive tract hito what
is known as a " redia" (iig 2,. C, D). This forces its way through
the wall of the sporocyst, which heals up immediately, and then
wanders through the tissue of the snail, most commonly finding its
"way to the liver If many rediae are present the snail usually
perishes. The adult redia may attain lengtli of 1 6 mm. It has
an olong.ited cylindrical form, and near its posterior extremity are
two processes directed backwards, which probably serve as aids to
locmiiotion. At the anterior extremity is the mouth, leading into
s muscular pharynx, followed by a saccular digestive tract, A
ring-shaped tliickcning is seen a little way behind the mouthj and
immediately posterior to this a special aperture for the exit of the
germs lormetf withiii the redia. About a score of these are usually
to bo found in" all stages of development, the earliest being a
roundeJ awa of cells Onnrula), which elongates, one end at the
same time bcecmnig more attenuated than the other, and gradually
formmg an elongated tail, while the body becomes oval and do-
pressed (fig. 2, E). Two suckers and the rudiment of the future
digestive tract make their appcarai_^e. As soon as the "cercaiid,"
this being the name given to the present organism, has attained
this stage of development it emerges from the redia, and by the.atd
of its snokci'S and tail wriggles its v^ay out of tho host, swimming
freely about in the water. Like other cercari;e developed in redi»
this one has no head-spine, but in mature examples the anterior of
tho body often exhibits a number of very minute spines. An
interesting feature in the animal is the presence of tho *'cystc
genous cells," two lobate masses arranged one on each side of the
body. These cells 'contain small rod-like bodies, whence they have
been termed "cellules k batonnets," and similar bodies have been
found in the protective cyst which they excrete ; Sonsino (28) has
suggested that they may assist in imparting stiffness to this struo-
ture, and has npticed that they are more abundant in those forms
which encyst in the open air. When/lhe cercaria has swum about
for a short time it finds its way to the water-plants, and encysts
itself on their stems and leaves. During this process the tail is
swung vigorously about, until finally a more. violent motion de-
taches it ; at the same time the cells just mentioned throw out a
gummy secretion, which rapidly.hardens and encloses the cercaria
in a kind of case. It is in this condition that the larvae are
swallowed by the grazing sheep to form sexually mature flukes in
their livers.
The. life-history of a typical digonctic Trematode may be summed,
up as follows:— (1) the cjt?, produced sexually; (2) the ciliated
embryo; (3) tho sporocysi; (-1) the redia, produced asexually ; (5)
the cercaria, produced asexually; (6) the adnU 'trematode. Hence
it would appear that the digenetic forms have at least one, lusually
many, asexual generatio'as before the sexual one appears. Tho
embryo may form either a sporocyst or a redia, these two form;
being distinguished by the presence of a digestive tract and of a
special birth-opening in the latter. Within these parent forms
the germs may arise from two sources, — the cells which occupy the
central region of the young sporocyst or redia, or the epithelium
lining the body-walls. "The germs to which a sporocyst gives
origin may develop in some instances into sporocysts, in others
into rediie or into ccrcariK. And it does not seem certain that
there is any limit to the possible number of successive generations
of rediae. Both cercari;e and rediae may occur side by side in the
same nurse. The last term in the series is, however, invaiiably
a cercaria. "
Pagenstecher, Ercolani (29), and others have stated that the
tail of a cercaria may become a sporocyst and produce germs, but
this has not met with general acceptance, and the supposition is
not supported by tho structure of the tail, which consists of a " con-
tractile substance, occupying tlie axis and periphery, with largo
vesicular cells between (Schwarze, 13). Ercolani (29) has also
published striking statements to the elfect that the structure of
these entozoa is so profoundly modified by their habitat that what
haye been hitherto described as distinct species may be only " local
varieties'.', thus he finds that Cercaria armata develops in Tropi'
donctiis into Di'stomuiri signatu7n, whilst ia Mus miiscutiis and M~
decumanus it becomes a distinct dwarfed form, D. viuris.
Pat/iological and Economic Melations. — Although the miiroerof
Trematodes which have been recorded from the human body is
about equal to that of the Cestodes, the medical significance of tho
former is much less than that of the latter, because as a rule they
occur in smaller numbers and are less apt to invade organs of vital
importance. The Trematodes which have been found in man arB—
Faeciola hepalica,L\nn., .
tn the liver.
Distomum lanceolaCum, MehUs,
„ liver.
D. ophthalmoHum, Dlesing,
„ lenaoftlieeye.
'Z>. hctcrophves. Bilharz, . .
„ sDiall intestine.
D. cras$um, Biisk = i). huskii, W'edl,
„ Intestine.
D. capcnsc, Hailey, .
„ eggs in thohlaod.
D. spaCulaium, Leuckartj .
„ liver.
D. etidemievm, Baelz, ,
„ liver.
D. hepatif, iTniocuum, Baelz, . ,
„ liver.
D. rj/Tioiiis:, I'oirier (42),
„ Jiver.
Bilharzia ftceinalobia, Cobbold,
„ veins of bladder, A^
ilonoslomian lentis, Nordmnnn,
„ lens of the eye.
Hexathyridivm pinguicola^ Trcutlei*,
„ ovary.
H. venarum, Treuiler,
„ veins.
For the general principles which govern the pathological effects
of Trematodes in common .with other etitozoa, reference may be
made to the article Tape-Worms; only a few special cases need
be alluded to here. The occurrence of most of the forms in the
above list hds only been recorded very few times, and in many
cases the eHeots produced were very inadequately studied, sotbst
wo can hardly bo said to possess a knowledge of their individual
pathology. In a case of Distomum. lanccolatiim which occurred iiJ
feohemia, the liver was enormonsly enlarged and tho contracted
gall-bladder contained eight calculi and forty-seven flukca.j the
symptoms during life were .emaciation, pain over tho liver, Mlft
distention of the abdomen.
The effects produced by Silfiarda hiematohia are very well de-
fined and exceedingly disastrous. The mature wornts in coufleS'
TREMATODA
539
I
inhabit the veins, esr>ecifiUy those of the urinary bladder and
tneseulery ; extravasaticus of blood and villous growths •r ulcera-
tions of the mucous membrane of the bladder present themselves,
and thus the eggs of the ctarasite find their way into the urine, in
which they are evacuateo, and can be detected by microscopic
exajnioation. "With the characteristic "presence of the eggs are
associated colic, anjemia, and great prostration of the vital powers,
more particularly in the later stages ; the disease when once fairly
establialied is almost always fatal ; see Cobbold (1).
From a practical point of view by far the most important Trema-
Ipde U Fasdola, {Distonuim) fiepatica, which gives rise to the disease
known as "liver rot " in sheep. It is always more or less abund-
ant in certain districts, and it is estimated that in tho United
Kingdom the annual loss of sheep due to it is not less than
1,000,000. The s)Tnptora3 are said to be emaciation, tenderness
in the loins, harshness and dryness of the wool, and a scaly con-
dition of the skin. On post-mortem examination fluid is found in
the peritoneal cavity and the viscera have a blanched appearance ;
the liver is dark chocolate or sometimes pale in colour, nodular,
end uneven, the ducts are thickened and Distomes are found
within them. Dead flakes have been known to furnish the nuclei
of gall-stones in the gall-bladder. Briefly stated, the principal
preventive measures seem to be as follows : — (1) destruction of the
eggs, and especially abstention from putting manure of rotten
sheep on damp ground ; (2) slaughter of sheep which are badly
fluked'; (3) adequate drainage of pastures ; (4) an allowance of salt
and a little dry fobd to the sheep ; and (5) dressings of lime or
salt on the ground to destroy the embryos (Thomas, 25). A series
of wet seasons increases the prevalence of the malady, and animals
which have been allowed to graze" in low-lying iJl-drained lands
are specially liable to infection — facta which are readily explicable
on a consideration of the life-history given above.
Systematic Arrangement. — The Trematoda may be classified as
follows ; —
I. UO.VQGEN'EA.^an Beaedea ; development direct, that Is, without the m&Sia^
tiou of ourse fonns.
(L) T&isToiOLS, Lenckart; body ronndish or elongate; posterior extretolty
never specially derelcped. Two adoral nickers often present; a large
ventral sucker o/teo armed with chitinold structures. Sexual apertures
on the left side or admediao. Laurer-Sticda canal single or double.
Ova with a filament at one pole only.
L Trlstooiidx, Van Seneden. — 1. Trittomum, Cuvler ; abonS a dozen
genera of previous writers are here included; otbt 14 spedea are
known, all parasitic on fishes; Ta5cheut>erg(S0).
J. HoDocoCyUdae, Taschenberp.— L Calico'.yle, Diesing; only Bpfldes C.
kroyerH^iy 2. /*j«idoc<rff fe, Taschenberg. 3. Mo7iccoty?e, Taschen-
■berg; only one ppedes, JT. mi/liobattM, on the gills of the eagle-ray
{iffliobatis aquila).
S. Ddooellidfi, Johnston.—!. Udorulla, Jhnst; five species, the type being
f7. caHgcrum, parasitic on a crustacean iCaiigtu), wiiich in its turn In-
fests the \iQ\it\xli,nippogloiiUi vulgaris),
(U.) POLTSTOME^E, Leuckart; body elongate, pointed and narrow anteriorly;
broad behind and generally provided with special organs of adhesion in
the shape of suckers or diitinoid hooks, of sockers or clampers with
Chltinoid 8tru<flures. Two adoiid suckers In £ome Instances. Sexual
apertures median. Lanrer-Stieda canal single or dcnble. Mala sexual
aperture often armed with chitinoid hooka. Ova frequeatly provided
<rith two long appendages.
I. Octobcthriidae. TaschenberK.— I. (kiobothr<um, Nordmann; about a
dozen genera of various authors are here tnduded by Taschenbcrg (SO),
containing fourteen spedes, parasitic on 6ah«s, and almost iiiTariably
on the gillfl. 2. ArUhocoiyle, Hesse and Van Beneden ; one spedes
(A. merlueii), found In the hake. 3. Phsfliocotyie, Hesse and Van
Beneden ; one spedes.froin the gurnard. 4. Plat^cotyle^ Hesse and Van
Beneden ; one spedea, from the gurnard. 5. Pleurocotyle, Gemls and
Van Beneden ( = Qrubca cochlear. Dies.); one spedea, from the gijls of
the Djackerel. 6. Diplozoon, Kordmann (see below). 7, Bcxacolylt,
Blainville ; one fpede*. from Th'/rmus br achy pi ems. 8. PlectarMcotyle,
Dies.; from the gills of Labrax mucT-onatm.
t Pelystomidz', Van Beneden— I. Poiystomunt, Zeder; two spedes, best
known P. inttgerrimum (see below) ; Htxathyridium Is probably a
synonym, 2. Oitchocotj/lt, Dies.; flve spedes, from tiie pills of sharks
and rays, 3. Erpocotyle, Hesse and Van Beneden; one species, from
the gills of Muttelut Ixeis. 4. Diplobothrium, f. S. Leuckart; one
species, from the gills of a sturgeon.
8 MicrocotjlidsB, Taschenberg. — 1. Axim, Ablldgaard ; two spedes. 2.
Hicrocctyl:, Van Beneden ; about half a dozen species, all parasitic on
the gills of fishes (see below). 3. Oaitrocotyle, Hesse and Van Bene-
den ; one species, fiom the gills of Caranx trachuna. 4, Aspido-
^fatter. Von Baer (see below). 5. OHylaspis, Leidy ; one spedes,
occurring in Anodonta, 6. Aspidocotyle, Dies.
4, Gyrodactjrtids, Van Beneden.— 1, Gyrodactylus, Xcrdraann (see below).
2. Dactylogyrus, Dies.; about twenty species, all parasitic on fishes,
mostly on the giUs. 3. Tetraonchu^. Dies.; three species, on the gills
of freshwater fishea 4. IHpiectanum, Dies. 5. Calceottomvm, Van
Beneden ; one species, on the gills of Scixra aqnila. $. Sphynmura,
Wright (34, 45); one species, from the mouth of MeJiobranchu* lattralU.
ft. DIGEKEA, Van Beneden ; one or more non-sexual forms Interrene between
two successive sexual f orms.
(L) IffonosTOHiDA. V&n Beneden ; elongate, oral, or nmnded In shape ; one
oral sucker. — 1. Monostomum, Zeder ; fifty to sixty spedes in mammals,
birds, and fishes ; type, it. mtUabVt, Zeder, fonnd in the body-cavity
and eye of water-birds. 2. A'otocotyle, Dies. ; !f. truerii^e. Dies.
(=J/oi)Ojfoinam rernnofHm).
(tt.) DiBTomD-s, Van Beneden; body flattlsh, more or less leaf-like or
elongate; an oral anii a ventral eub-median or posterior sacker. — I.
Dittomum, Kelzios (see below). 2. Pasciola, Linn.; three spedes are
kno'wn ; F. hepatica is described above ; P.giganiea inhabits the liver of
the giraffe. 3. BUhartia, Ccbbold (=OpnsKophorvi, Dies.) ; one spedes
(sec belowJL 4. EthiTtotiomvTTi, I>njardin ; E. gadorvm, V*n BenedeU,
in the tuteetine of Gadus carticnarius (the coal-flsb), and twenty-flve
ether species In the allnenury canal of mammals, birds, and flsbea.
S. Amphistomum, P.adolphi ; alMut twenty species in different Verte-
brates; A. sutriasMi/m {kmozz) \a\he reciutn of the frog. G. Gaslrodis-'
eus (5). I^euckart (stc also S7). 7. Uomatogaiter, Poirier (33). 8. (Jos-
trothy.'ax, Poirier. 9. Euryeeelxum, Brock (44), has the excretory vesseU
dilated into wide chambers (? ccslom).
(UI.)Gastebostomidje, Von Sitbold; oral suckersub-medlan and ventral; also
an anterior sucker. — 1. Ooi'.erostontum, Von Siebold ; eight spedes, all
tu fishes; larval form Bucephalus (soc bel»w).
Qy.) Holostoui D.e, Claus (43); body flat:cned. and divided Into an anterior
and posterior part, the former bearing an anterior and ventral sucker;
two adoral lobes with glands In connexion, or a clrcumoiel fold with
tobes. — I. Bolouomum, Nitische; t\^cnty-three species, rao^I In water-
birds: n. rariabUe, In various raptorial birds; larval forms Tetraeotyla
and Dipfostomum. 2. ffemUtomum, Dies.;- three spedes, one In the
wild-cat, twd in birds. 3. EiistemTna^ Dies,
The tme position of the following is doubtful : — A^emalobothrium, Van Bene*
den (9); Lidj/ijiotoony Von Linsiow (30); Stichocotyle, Cunijingham (39).
Diptotoon paradoxvm (18) Infests the gill of the minnow in large numbers.
The eggs batch In the. water, coutlnoing to be attached to the gill by a filament at
Fro. 8. — A, Diplozoon paradoxvm; two united specimcnj. B, Pofystomv^. inte*
gerrimaim; xabout 100 (afterZ-lIer). C, Miaoct^yU mcrmyri \ x7. D, E,
two views of the chitinons framework of a sucker of Axine belongs ; highly
magnJfled {ifter Lorenz). F, Aspidogatter conchicola; xabout 2C (after
Anbert). G, Oyrodactyltu elegant; xabout 80 (after Wegener).
one extremity. The embryo Is elongated oval in shape, and cTiateJ all over ; on ia
~tack are two eyes, ccnslsting of a cnp-shaped mass of pigrricnt, wth a spheroidal'
lenticular body. It presents also the mouth »itli two peculiar suckers, the oeso-
phagus end intestine, and the two claspers of the Dipojpa. The embrjo swims
vigorously about until It finds its way to the gill of a minnow, failing which it dies
in about six honrs. .Attached to its host it may live isolated for a considerable
time, Increaaing In size; Dsudlly, liowever, it unites with another individual In a
kind of reciprocal copclat^on (flg, 3, A). Ons Individual by means of Its ventral
sacker seizes the dorsal papIlJa of another, and then the two twisf -across each
other so that fhe sucker of the second seizes the papilla of the first After this s
complete fusion of the Individuals takes place, the papillffl and euckera growing
together so firmly as to be anatomically inseparable. Both Individuals continna
to grow and develop a second, third, and sometimes a fourth pair of claspers.
In Polyiiomum integemmum (18), which inhabits the bladder of the frog, the
eggs are developed during the winter and are laid in the spring, when the frogs
r^ort to the water ._ It appears probable that the worm protrudes its body fromlhe
frog and thus depo'sits the egg directly in the water. The yotmic worm, as U
escapes from the egg, which takes plac& after a lapse of fix or eight weeks,
measures ebout 0*3 mm. In length, and swims vigoroujUy about by the aid of a
coating of cHia. At Its posteriorextiemlty Is a rounded disk (flg, 3, B , ronnd the
margin rf which sixteen uelicare hooks are placed at equal intervals. Above the
four hindmost of these aie two others still smaller and more delicate. Upon the
back are situated four eyes disposed In pairs. The mouth is wide and leads into a
pharynx, and this Into the intestine; two excretory vessels are present, bntthero
is no trace of generative organs. The hindermost pair of suckers is the first
to be developed, and they cndose th^se two hooks which lie at the outer side of
the very delicate ones mentioned above, which eventually become the strong
terminal hooks of the adult. Tlie other two pairs of Backers are formed In A
similar manner, the development of all three being usually completed darintt the
month of July. The young Polyitomum attacks not the f nil-grown frog but the
tadpole, entering the gill-cavity end subsequently proceeding to the blaoder.
Like the frog It requires four or five years to attain sexual maturity. In certain
cases the Polyttomum does not migrate ; it then becomes prematurt:ly eexiuU and
dies when tlie tadpole undergoes metamorphosis ; tmder these circumstances the
scxuaI organs are simpler than nsual : the testis is simple ; the cerm^rium is tocg
and coiled; there Is neitlier prostate nor Laurer-Stieda canal; and the oridoctttts
no dilated anterior portion.
Microzotyte mormyri, Lorenz (21) (fig. 3, C), hns no penis, the semen Issuing by
on opea.ng posterior to the spiked birth-opeuing ; the vagina opens medlaDy, doc
540
T R E -T R E
„argm.lW. TheposteriorextremHy .spotted ^x,n.Wo^^AtnW^^^^^
tt,butl. broad ai>d obliquely •™°f'=<','^'''"/if'',t7oTot» hand-satchel (fis 3.
'iventy peculiar 'J'*^'';X''rS isented by a compS^^^ ehlf.ous (ranm»ork.
roie.part of the animal (flt 3, n ^ ,„,,^je ot tbe body of the
Oiirodac:yltts elegam (33) '%Vl';"°. °" ^.h™ ,„d measuves about O-o mm. in
pike! stickleback, »"? °'J" '^"'^''.''"/towaVS" eltl>er end (Se- 3, O). At the
cnc'h ; 11 is flattened In (orm an^ <»P«'' JJ" posterior la furnished with a sub-
anterior extremity arc two '«i',f ''■"''"'.( ,,£ihmeni In the shape ot two larp
triangularplate.which beaiatheoigansof at^chmen ^j^^„„,„,„,e. The
cuned hook, in its ■^<^"-.'; »"S„?^J!!f o^Ss „°ni is to be found in the (act ha
most interesting pecuhaiity, bO"««er °l tnis ^^^j j„„5) contains another
7XTZ t-hir^riWUralfhiitsoXt^three embryonic generations are
thrpre'ent time o.;er 300 'll-;^--^i]'Z"a'uT^^l'^^^''^^^- ""= """" '""»■
the most Important are perhaps ^^ '""fff""' " „■ ,v,„ ,„, an.l D. militare. Van
lo'ns OS Fa,ciola>,evai^c^.Dclav^ge^^. fr^m tb="-og,^^,_„^, (Linn.) has Cbe
Beneden. from the 'n'",H"=°''J'^''Rer2ius which, how„vir, has obtiiincd ei-
oriorlty over Dxstomum iDulama) °< •<^^™J ""'; ^,cly be used in a rcstiicted
Ee^ur^eney Jljf "™; /S ?ie^ diSe ra«, F. /.^o,.c. above de-
sense for forms which havea »""'^'^^^^f=,„ b„, „otn,et with central r.cog-
.cribed being taken as the W=- ™ ^'P'^'^'^t.^olj (i,. Weinland has pioposed
nttion, althouch supported ^^ ^tochard ana u J^ ^^^ putomum, ictaininK
to substitute the term ^'''«=°^\?,'°°;„*i]bai not iet with acceptance. Tlie
f„Kfo/a 'orthetype.speces.buttbls^opoE^in ^^ ^^^^^ which, like D.
Distomes vaiy in size from, forms almost m^ j ^^ ^^,^ ^^ ,„ ,^5 fresh
(n^ens, Monicz (35), measure 6 cm. '""« " 7™'' ,[^ (jell (36). is parasitic upon a
eo'di.ion (0. i-'i-'^.^^^S^.tho^r^T ".«»""- "•'^™^^^ "' ''^ "/ '"^^
deep-sea fish taken in 1090 fa»»ms. ^ 47„;^,^Me laical foiTO known as Lenco.
woodpecker (.Ipleniuj "■■■'"?^"''' J" "j f™„„ S»cc.>.ca pulr.s. and consists of a
Mor,d,u„, puradcx^m, "'';'^J™^lIh d are developed we or two contractile
;:::;?(irrrD> ThJlJ^K^owl^SsS^^ tentade'^uutU it bursts and^^c
r„. 4.-A. M,.an,a ,'i--/[-X«)" r.^-lSS-?--. rvJig
;i;^Swra'„^itL'V<c|rrp5e|^,.^^ssx'"er^^^^^^^^^^
luded: x30. C, Snail (SMCinra). the tcntaclesocion to j^^^^^^ ^^^^^^^ ^.^^
natural size. D. '■'"'""'"rfyZZTp^^- Sy mapnlfi^l (aft^r Zlegler).
(aJter Z.llev). E. ''""?'' f "J „^°!ZP^B"ljpTali in process ot development;
F Portion of a sporocyst containing mcepnai^ r
X about 50 (after Lacaze-Duthicrs). .,„„„„,„!„ onlv (iranular cells,
ftanss outwards. The threads -"''i" '"i" f^ m oToi°d'"nTo^^wi,h a thick
whilst the cont, actile sac ,s »«"?-«•;',""„ ° ^J? ™ tract.'nnd excretoiT system.
dear boider.lhe rud.mentsof »»f ^''"'■",° f^ most dancerous human parasites
a,H,arjm/.iemalo6.a.Cobbold(I^I soncottliem _^^^ mcsenlcry and
end occurs in ll.c blood of the portal "^ '[";,,' ,,.„„, ,c to 20 mm. in length,
bladder. The scxc, are 'l'^''""' '''^,,',r™.„„Jrfic,al examinnlion. The male 1»
and somewhat icscmhling a ^,™»',"''^ ""i, thicUei The surface of the female is
only from M l'> ^'^ "''■"■ •"^''"f'\X;""'„ri!iZ tall; at the anterior pointed
r;t%m^,t;l^ro;K^cTer':?;:rw^s7n,r,o. „^^^^^
Jb7"ir p:.'-i^.v"" rirr'attrrnr ■r?a ve„,ra, sucker is placed
"^-sSJ^'^Kf^»|iS5^hJ?/eS?:^5aS:^^^
r„o*.;» or U..0. where it '^'1 '.''.'SeT't'octti's cht fly n fhe Tver^na
- tri^;i^SnS'^:^^^pS/ E HSs^'r '^
of the.se iamifiedtu^?a are formed balls ot eels each of wm^^^^^^ ^^w
tot the alimentary canal. This. iNwever, opens aoiui o,,ophagua, and a
and consists of a ,'"-;«f'^ Plr/," J;,' '°I""em^e™nM
S'le rnTcro^e "'"ol^eilo'rt; fn^rH l^^^hat its contraction d,.ves.,o
flSd I'nto the tail^ »>«^« " P™„rai^lo"n1a«d'p'.ugy «m In thrhind°e'r founh
The tail isdouhle and from about05^
contraction^ Each l'»''="°'^';f°'„d>'agjs contain many nuclcaied coni.vei.ve.
tapering hlament. ihesecauaa "FH^ ^v q.^^ ]„vvTi swim free y in tlK w. iter.
tiJsiie cells wilh fine P:"»P'?™'"^,K=honrs unless they entei the mouth of
but Sink and perish after "t"™' '"«'',J„^™'V "-hen (4) t'L lose their tails and
ee.tain 'i'bes(e.|,. ie««cas en,«rop«/ia/.«u.^^^^ ^^^^^ „„^,^,
become encapsulcd under the skln^ ',°f„r sucker are 'o'^ed It the flsh ihu.
developed; cutlculai spines and J^e antennr sudter are ,^0 ™^e ^^^ ^^^ ^^
£m1adu!t:ci"nrue\o C S fhe tatestlnj, and produce eggs For further
,n irine ?hem w th tlio former are the possession of a commonly
^: l^?ISl^cLtede^ei^fi(LeucJ^^^^
Uipsic. 1863. new edition and Engb^h trans ationi P^ w^^^, ^„,„„„^ l„„<,„„.
u.id Zurn, ParasUen *» '^'^''t ; t^^F %\,i,,,,wkm Hisi fiU . Amsterdam.
1808^9. and ''■"'««»?;\^*"°''T\^"'Ji°;,c), ( 18:» (5) Von Baer. /l'o.» -4c/»
,829; (4) VonSiebold,^rcA.„^. A» ajcA 1 8»^_y^ Ceaerar.n"., Kay
Society, 8V0. «ndon,1845; (OPoKenstecuei.jrir ^ „„ issp. (9 Van
Heidelherg, 1867; (8) ^''^''^%^'tTl,,T^e^'""^'>e\.mSommer. Znrl,r
Reneden " Verslntestinaus. (^""P'" """?..■ ,',,t, A„al xlx. ISSli ll2)
Zieglcr, ZttcHr. icss. ^ool xaxlv, 1883 "S)^'" g,^ '(ij^ Fralnont. /ircft d.
(14) Metschnikolt <2u"ri Joar. il<cr /"-„" ;J, ll'ien 111.1880; (17) Van
Wot t 1880, ii.. 1831 . (16) Pin.ner. f : Jj-', 'Ss 8 Zeiler, Z<.<r;,.-, ...!.
Ben.ien and Lankester, ZcoL ■^" 'poiflef ;>™a 2oi' ^^^^y"- '"■ "*Pli,T
S:U^l^^.^^I^.'-:fHSSs^r.^! »n;
'i, /I /S BW., vl.. 1885; (29) E/'O "">. ^' "'/f^fj'jo 'Tasclienberg. Z<«rAj-
fs82,l,i., '8«^«'»°t''»Y|-?V 1S We™ ski; 2'.^ T" ^"'.i Tr' i"V
gesomml. Kalurxs. In-, 18'». J^-' , ',, ' 1K77 (33) Wai;cn.r. Aieli / "'""
(32) Huxley. Anal. IncerLAmm Lrnid™, isy ■ ^ ^ 35, Mo„i„j, /,„// s«
i pftB! , 18W, (34) Wright, /'.« C»>wi. /"" ■ ' ■ J^ \^ ^^^ . i887 . (37)
"zool F^d^ce. x> 188G; l^) Be '>"''-«'',f,''^ 38 Poirlet, .■/»» .Soc. /•/iif...-
Loitcnyi. /fiftaiidl &nr*- fj,'" .™ ;• ' ' T™n< ;toi/ Sot iiiin , xxxii . 1884
PanTm. 'ii . 1883; (39) Cunningham, rrons^W "J schaJ.nsiand /^
f40) Fewkes, /tfier, .(o_>-r_ Sc. , (3).,/™;;, '»^„;.r;. pj,. v., 1S87 , (43) Vo.
„.-.^ ■ .'• >;'•.""■;;■;) rrnir' iil, v., TssY, (43) Voo
■i;i^scAr., xvi., 1883; (42) PT'^x^iif IsVi (44) S^o'k. (jiVi^jer ;y«/,,-.rt.™.
TRENCH RICHARD CHENBVix (1807-1886) arch
t.S'^?^ SuUin, poet, scholar and jv - .as bo, t. _a
Dublm, September 9 1807, ^^^ faa ^_^^^^ ^^ ^^^^
College, Cambridge, '° f ;f ' ^^'^^ ;„ Hampshire, he
'''K ?'TTxiyTmlZ !?£,^ Martyr Indotker
followed ^^^^^^^^ji:::J^c.. T^ose
fotr rt^al^d "the^'lthor^as decidedly the most gifted
T R E — T R E
541
I
of tho immediate disciples of Wordsworth, with a warmer
colouring and more pronounced ecclesiastical sympathies
than the master, and strong affinities to Tennyson, Kcblc,
and Milnes. In 1S41 he^re^iigned his living,' to become
curate to Samuel Wilberforce, then rector of Alverstoke,
and upon Wilberforce's promotion to the deanery of West-
minster, in 1S45, he was presented to the rectory of
Itchenstoke. In 1845 and 184G he preaclicd the Hulscan
lecture, and in the former year was made examining
chaplain to Wilberforce, now bishop of Oxford. He was
shortly afterwards appointed theological professor and
examiner at King's College, London. In 1851 he estab-
lished his fame as a philologist by his charming little work
on The Slttdy of Wor<ls, originally delivered as lectures to
the pupils of the Diocesan Training School, Winchester.
His purpose, as stated by himself, was to show that in
words, even taken singly, " there are boundless stores of
moral and historic truth, and no less of pas-sion and im-
agination laid up"— a truth enforced by a number of most
apposite illustrations. The book may be regarded as a
comment on the saying that " language is fossil poetry."
It was followed by two equally delightful little, volumes of
similar character — English Past and Present (1855), and A
Select Glossary of Engluh Words (1859). All have gone
through numerous editions, and they have probably con-
tributed more than all the labours of severer but less
cultured and tasteful philologists to promote the historical
study of the English tongue. Yet Trench did little more
than indicate the existence of a vast region of research
extending over all literary languages. Another great
service to English philology was rendered by his paper,
read before the Philological Society, " On some Deficiencies
in our English Dictionaries" (1857), which gave the first
impulse to the great enterprise now proceeding under
the auspices of Dr Murray. His advocacy of a revised
translation of the New Testament (1858) powerfully aided
to promote another great national undertaking. In 1856
he published a valuable essay on Calderon, with a transla-
tion of a portion of Life is a Dream in the original metre.
He had not, meanwhile, been forgetful of professional
claims upon his pen. In 1841 he had published his Notes
on the Parables, and in 1846 his Notes on the Miracles,
works which, containing much to gratify every school of
thought, and little to offend any, obtained the most exten-
sive popularity, and have been resorted to by English
theologians of all persuasions, who have turned the author
to the same account as be has turned his patristic,
Romanist, and Lutheran predecessors. There is, in fact,
very little originality in these volumes, but they are
treasuries of erudite and acute illustration, selected from
various quarters with admirable judgment, and displayed
with consummate taste.
In 1856 Trench was raised to the deanery of West-
minster, probably the position in the whole church which
suited him best. In January 1864 he was advanced to
the more dignified but less congenial post of archbishop of
Dublin. Stanley had been named, but rejected by the
Irish Church, and, according to Bishop Wilberforce's corre-
spondence. Trench's appointment was favoured neither by
the prime minister nor the lord lieutenant. It was, more,
over, unpopular in Ireland, and a blow to English litera-
ture ; yet the course of events soon proved it to have been
most fortunate. Trench, indeed, could do nothing to
prevent the disestablishment of the Irish. Church, though
he resisted with dignity, and repelled the insidious pro-
posal that she should do execution upon herself. But,
when the disestablished communion had to be reconstituted
under the greatest difficulties, it was found of the highest
importance that the occupant of his position should be a
mail of a liberal and genial spirit, able to ward off the
narrowness which would have alienated the s^ympathies of
English churchmen, and sown the seeds of schism in a
body beyond all others in need of amity and unity. This
was the work of the remainder of Trench's life ; and, if
less personally agreeable and of less general utility than
the literary performances which might have been expected
from him if he had remained at Westminster, it was much
more weighty and important. It exposed him at times to
considerable misconstruction and obloquy, but he came to
be appreciated, and, when in November 1884 he resigned
his archbishopric from infirmity, clergy and laity unani-
mously recorded their sense of his " wisdom, learning, dili-
gence, and munificence.'' He had found time for Lectures
on Medixval Church History (1878) ; his poetical works
were rearranged and collected in two volumes (last edition
1SS5). He died in London, after a lingering illness, on
March 28, 1886.
As a man Trench was universally beloved and esteemed. He
was rcniarkublc foraliigh spirit, muni ficcncc, and general elevation
of .sentiment. As a (irose author lie ranks among the most useful and
agreeable of his generation, and may almost be said to gain in both
respects by his deficiency in originality. Both as Biblical commen-
tator and philologist, he has done f.ir move by popularizing the
researches of morif exact scholars and more piolound tliinkers than
lie could have done by striving to make discoveries of his own.
For durable fame as a poet originality is indispensable, and here
.Trench fails. The style of liis poems is frequently admirable, but
even when not obviously derived from some other writer it wants
the stamp of. strong iadividuality. He has written little beyond
the reach of any man uniting exquisite culture to the accomplish-
ment of verse: the pieces where poetry seems a natural langnago
\vith him are chiefly to be found among his elegiac poems, which
express real personal experience, and appeal movingly to the
heart. (R- G-)
TRENCK, the name of two barons of old German
extraction, who, endowed with exceptional physical powers,
and each blending to a singular if not to an insane degree
the iiero and the Bobadil, have left startling records of not
wholly dissimilar adventures and misfortunes.
1. Feanz, Baron von der Trenck (1711-1749), was
born at Reggio, Calabria, where his father was lieutenant-
colonel in the Austrian service. After his rough early
training in the camp, he made himself so unendurable at
the college of Vienna that he was speedily removed, and
entered in 1727 as ensign in the Palfy regiment, from
which, however, after a brief but riotous course of duelling,
gambling, and love-making, he received a new dismissal.
He returned to his father, and, on the outbreak of war
between the Russians and 'Turks, raised a corps of 300 men
at his own expense and joined the Russian army on the
Hungarian frontier. His brilliant exploits won him the
favour of bis commander, but a breach of orders, followed
by an assault on his colonel, brought him under sentence
of death, from which a daring feat of arms alone saved
him. A sentence of exile to Siberia, incurred soon after
by a second affray with a superior officer, was commuted-
to imprisonment at Kieff and expulsion from the country.
His term of imprisonment having expired, he retired to his
estate, where he armed and drilled his vassals, and in a
series of encounters compelled the Slavonian brigands to
seek refuge in Turkish territory. From these marauders
he recruited in 1740 the formidable body of paiidours
with which he joined the levies in aid of Maria Theresa.
Repulsing the French near Linz, he penetrated into
Bavaria, took Deckendorf and Reichenhall, and destroyed
Cham, — the conduct of his troops being marked not less
by atrocity than by desperate courage. Recalled to Vienna
to render account for the cruelties practised, he refused to
defend himself, and, being set atf liberty, rejoined his men,
opened in 1743 a passage across the Rhine for the army,
and became as much the terror of Alsace as he had been
of Bavaria. On the retreat of the army to Bohemia he
covered the rear and took several towns, but had his right
542
T E. E — T R E
foot crushed by a cannon-ball. Maria Theresa sent him a
surgeon, and, having' made a siiccies of triumphal entry
into Vienna, ho resumed his command. But in September
1745, after having boldly penetrated with his pandours to
the tent of Frederick II., he suffered the king to escape
liim while his followers were stopping to plunder, and he
was thereupon accused of having been bribed by that
monarch to release him. Ho was condemned on inquiry
to pay an indemnity for peremptory dismissal to the
cfTicers accusing liim, but lie refused to acknowledge the
sentence, and, raising new troops, added to the list of his
exploits. His conduct leading to a renewal of the inquiry,
he laid bauds on the president of the c?)urt-martial and
was thrown into prison, but was enabled to escape by the
baroness Lestock, with whom he fled to Holland. He was
brought back to Vienna, and condemned to perpetual im-
prisonment in the Spielberg, where, finding escape impos-
sible, he poisoned himself, October 1749, at the age of 38.
Sec his autobiography — Mcrkvyiirdigcs Lcbcn und Tfutlcn dcs
Fnihcrm Franz von dcr Trend:, Vienna, 1770; also, Franz von dcr
Trend:, by E. F. Hiibner, with preface by Scbubart, 3 vols., 1788.
2. FRiEonicn, pREinERR von der Teenck (172G-1794),
cousin of the preceding, born at Konigsberg, 16th February
1726. His precocious abilities won him the favour of
Frederick the Great, in whose guards he was enrolled at
an early age as cadet, and by whom lie was made cornet in
1743 and aide-decamp for his gallantry in 1744.' An
intrigue with the princess Amelia, sister of the king, led
to bis temporary confinement until the campaign of 1745
recalled him to the army. He was again thrown into
prison, however, on the discovery of a correspondence
between him and his cousin, then fighting with his
pandours in the service of Maria Theresa, but in December
1746, after many failures, he succeeded in escaping from
the fortress of Glatz. He went to Vienna, was involved in
several duels by his cousin, who was too closely confined
to give expression to his animosities except by proxy,
and finally accepted a company in the service of the czar.
On the declaration of peace the empress Elizabeth bestowed
on him a diamond-hilted sword, and a Russian princess left
him a fortune, which was still further increased by the
death of his cousin, who, on condilioo of his entering none
but the Austrian service, made him his heir. The latter
inheritauce being heavily burdened, he spent the next
three years in a series of lawsuits, and then, after a journey
to Italy, became a captain in an Austrian regiment of
cuirassiers. At the death of his mother he revisited Ger-
many, but «as jiromptly seized by the unforgetful king
and closely imprisoned in the fortress of Magdeburg, his
efforts to e-seupe securing him the honour of a specially
constructed cell, a heavy burden of chains, and the
additional puni.shnient of being roused every quarter of an
hour by the sentries. Still unsubdued, he found means to
remove his chains in the brief intervals afforded him, and
occupied himself with French and German composition.
In the meantime the princess Amelia had not ceased to
move in favour of his release, and Trenck, having been set
free in 17G3, returned to Vienna only to bo reconfined
there as a lunatic. He was speedily released by the inter-
vention of the king, and raised to the rank of major by way
of compensation ; but, being by. this lime satiated with
royal patronage and prisons, he retired to Aix-la-Chapelle,
commenced business as a wine rtierchant, and devoted his
leisure to literature and politics, publishing, among other
works, a gazette entitled the Friend of Mnu and an attack
on Frederick II. as the "Macedonian' hero." His cimi-
mercial experiences, however, were not encouraging, and,
after spending three years (1774-1777) in England, ho
returned to Vienna, became the secret agent of Maria
Theresa, and at her death withdrew to his Castle of Zwer-
bacli, where he gave himself to agriculture and wrote hi'
famous autobiography. Not until 17S7 was he permitted
to return to his own country, where he is said to have Lad
an affecting interview with the princess Amelia a few days
before her death. The publication of his memoirs (Lebens-
geschichtc) in 1786, translated into French by himself it)
17S9, gave Jiim immediate and wide notoriety, and wax
effigies of the illustrious prisoner in his chains were exhi-
bited on the Parisian boulevards a dciix sojis en sortant.
Despite the grounds which the memoirs undoubtedly
furnish for Carlyle's torso characterization of him ac an
" extensively fabulous blockhead," they took a strong hold
of the popular imagination, and obliterated for a time the
fame of his more darkly passionate pandour cousin. The
tragic elements in the story were, however, to be empha-
sized by a still more tragic close. 'His ready advocacy of
the French Revolution involved him in disgrace with the
Austrian authorities, and, after deprivation of his pension
and further imprisonment, he set out towards the close of
1791 for Paris. In place of an enthusiastic reception, he
was arrested by order of the Committee of Public Safety
as a secret emissary of the king of Prussia, and, -after con.
finement in the St Lazarus prison, was literally dragged
to the guillotine on 2r)th July 1794. His iSammtlicke
Gedichle und Schriflen were published at Leipsic in 1786.
TRENDELENBURG, Friedricu Adolf ^1802-1872),
one of the chief revivers of Aristotelian study in the pre-
sent century, w-as born on November 30, 1802, at Eutin,
near Llibeck. He received his education at the gymnasium
of his native town and at the universities of Kiel, Leipsic,
and Berlin, displaying from his earliest years an extras
ordinary industry and thirst for knowledge. He was intro-
duced to philosophy by Konig, the rector of the gymnasium
a Kantian ; and at Kiel he came under the influence of
Reinhold and Von Berger, to the latter of whom, a
follower of Schelling, some of his own most characteristic
views may be traced. At Berlin he heard Hegel and
Schleicrmacber ; but his university studies lay chiefly in
the direction of classics and classical philology under
Wachsmuth, Hermann, and Boeckh. The combination of
the philosopher and the philologist, together with a defi-
nitely historical turn of mind, is what is most distinctive
of all Trendelenburg's work. He became more and more
attracted to the study of Plato and Aristotle, and his
doctor's dissertation, published in 182G, was an attempt
to roach through Aristotle's criticisms a more accurate
knowledge of the Platonic philosophy {Plalonis de h'eis
el A'unieris Doctrina ex AYistolele lUustrata). Recognizing
the sphere in which his best life-work could be done, be
declined the offer of a classical chair at Kiel, and accepted
instead a post as tutor to the son of Herr von Nagler,
pastmaster-general, and an intimate friend of Altenstoin,
the enlightened minister of education in Prussia. Heboid
this position for seven years (1826-33), occupying hi;
leisure time with the preparation of a critical edition of
Aristotle's De Auima, and conscientiously extending his
knowledge in all directions. His acquaintance with Karl
Ferdinand Becker, the philologist and • scientific gram-
marian, was of importance for his own views on the origin
of the logical categories and the relation of thought to
language. In 1833 Trendelenburg was appointed extra-
ordinary professor in Berlin, and four years later he was
advanced to an ordinai^y professorship. During nearly
forty years he proved himself mark,edly successful as an
academical teacher, treating in turn all the usuab philo-
sophical disciplines, besides holding more select classes for
thoBtudy of Aristotle with.advanced student-s. During the
greater part of that time he had also to examine in philo-
sophy and pedagogics all candidates for the scholastic pro-
fession in Prussia. He died on the 24th of January 1872.
T R E — T R E
543
It was with a new to the philosophical preraration in the
eymaasia that he published {1S36) bis EUmerUa Lcgica Arista-
Uhac. This useful little book contains a selection of passages from
the OrganoK, giving in a connected form the substance of Aristotle's
logical doctrine The Greek text is furnished with a Latin transla-
tion and notes, aud at a later date Trendelenburg supplemented
this book with further explanations for the use of teachers
(ErlauUrmgea zu den Ekm'mlm der aristt/.disd.in. Logik. 1842).
The SkwutUa has passed through eight editions, and the ErlduUr-
tagm throngh three. In 1840 appeared the first of his important
works, which, cnder the modest title of Logischu UnUrstuhungcn,
develops a coherent philosophical theory, besides acutely criticiz-
ing other standpoints, and in particular the then dominant Hegelian
jystem. The Logisehe UiUersuchungen were, indeed, an important
factor in the reaction against Hegel which set in about that time
in Germany. Two articles written by Trendelenburg in the con-
troversy which ensued were republished separately, under the title
Die logisehe Frage in Hegets System (1843). A secoud and en-
larged edition of the Logisehe UntersuehuTtgen appeared in 1862,
and a third in 1870. In 1S46 he published the first volume of his
" Historical Contributions to Philosophy " (Historische Seilrdge
zur Philosophie), containing a history of the doctrine of the cate-
gories, which forms a pendant to his own elaboration of the same
subject in the Logisehe Untersuckungen. A second volume of the
;' Historical Contributions " appeared in 1855, and a third in 1867,
consisting of detached essays on points of iuterest in the history of
philosophy. A number of these are papers originally read before
the Prussian Academy of the Sciences, of which Trendelenburg
was made a member in 1846. He was secretary of the philosophico-
historical section from 184" tili 1S71> and devoted much of his
valuable time to the'duties devolnng upon him. A number of his
papers dealing with non-philosophical — mainly with national and
educational — subjects have been collected fti his Kleine Schriften
(2 vols., 1871). In 1S60 the second of bis larger works appeared,
Kiiturreeht auf dan, Orandt der Ethik (second enlarged edition,
1863). In 1865 Trendelenburg became involved in a controversy
with Eono Fischer on the interpretation of Kant's doctrine of
space, which was carried on with no little acrimony for a number
of yeiars. The war of 1870 drew from him a short treatise on the
defects, of international law, — LUcken im Volkemcht- He had
always had s deeply patriotic interest in the political development
of Prussia, and through Prussia of Germany, and in the stormy
times after 1S43 had even acted* for a short period as deputy to
tlie Prussian chamber.
Trendelenburg's philosophizing is conditioned throughout by bis
loving study of Plato and Aristotle, whom he regards not as
opponents but as building jointly ou the broad basis of idealism.
His own standpoint may almost be called a modem version of
Aristotle thns interpreted. While denying the possibility of an
absolute method and an absolute philosophy, as contended for by
Hegel and others, Trendelenburg was emphatically an idealist in
the ancient or Platonic sense ; his whole work was devoted to the
demonstration of , the ideal in the real. Bat he maintained that
the procedure of philosophy must be analytic, rising from the
particular facts to the universal in which we find them explained.
We divine the system of the whole from the part we know, just as
from a torso we may reconstruct a work of art; but the process of
reconstruction must, in the case of philosophy, remain approxi-
mative. Our position forbids the possibility of a final system.-
Instead, therefore, of constantly be^nning afresh in speculation, it
should be onr duty to attach ourselves to what may be considered
the permanent results of historic development. The classical
expression of these results Trendelenburg finds mainly in the
Platonico-.Aristotelian system. The philosophical question is stafcd
thus— How are thought and being united in biowledge ? how does
thought get at being? and how does being-enter into thought?
Proceeding on the principle that like can only he known by uke,
Trendelenburg next reaches a doctrine peculiar to himself (though
based upon Aristotle) which plays a central part in his speculations.
Motion is the fundamental fact common to being and thought ; the
actual motion of the external world has its counterpart in the
constructive motion which is involved in every instance of percep-
tion or thought From motion he proceeds to deduce time, space,
and the cat<^ories of mechanics and natural science. These, being
thus derived, are at once subjective and objective in their scope.
It is true matter can never be completely resolved into motion,
but the irreducible remainder may be treated like the ipttri) v\rt
of Aristotle as an abstraction which we asiTrptotically approach
but never re-ioh. The facts of existence, however, are not ade-
quately explained by the mechanical categories. The ultimate inter-
pretation of the universe can only be found in the higher category
ofi£nd or final cause. Here Trendelenburg finds the dividing line
between philosophical systems. On the one side' stand those which
acknowledge none but eBBcient canses, — which make force prior to
thought, and explain the universe, as it were, a lergo. This may
be called, typically, Democritism. On the other side stands the
■organic' or teleological view of the world, which interprets the
parts through the idea of the whole, and sees in the efficient causes
only the vehicle of ideal ends. Tliis may be called in a wide sense
Platonism. Systems like Spinozisni, wliich seem to form a third
class, neither sacrificing force to thought nor thouglit to force, yet
by tlieir denial of final causes inevitably fall back into the Uemo-
critic or essentially materialistic standpoint, leaving us with the
great antagonism of tlie mcchnnical and the organic systems of
philosophy. The latter view, which receives its first support in
th» facts of life, or organic nature as such, finds its culmination
and ultimate verification in the ethical world, which essentially
consists in the realization of ends. Trendelenburg's KaturrccIU
may, therefore, be taken as in a manner the comiiletion of his
sj-stem, his working out of the ideal as present in the real. The
ethical end is taken to be the idea of humanity, not in the abstract
as formulated by Kant, but in the contest of the slate and of
history. Law is treated throughout as the vehicle of ethical
requirements. In Trendelenburg's treatment of the st-ite, as the
ethical organism in which the individual (the potential man) may
be said first to emerge into actuality, we may truce his nurture on
the best ideas of Hellenic antiquity. (.A. SE. )
TRENT {Tridenlum ■, Ital. Trento , Germ. Triml), a
city of the Austrian empire, capital of Italian or " Welsch "i
Tyrol, stands on the left bank of the Adige, where it is
joined by the Fersina, on the Brenner Railway, 35 miles
below Botzen and 60 miles above Verona. It has a very
picturesque appearance, especially when approached from _
the north, with its embattled walls and towers filling ther
whole breadth of the valley, a conspicuous feature being
the rocky citadel of Dos Trento (the Roman Verrvia) on
the right bank of the river. Of the old walls some massive
remains are attributed by local tradition to Theodoric the
Goth. Notwithstanding many symptoms of decay, Trent,
with its numerous palaces, substantial houses, broad streets,
and spacious squares, still retains the aspect of a flourish-
ing Cisalpine town. In appearance it is quite Italian, and
the inhabitants speak Italian only. The cathedral, . on
the south side of the spacious Piazza del Duomo, was
begun in its present form in 12r2, and finished about the
beginning of the 15th century. It preserves, however,
some Lombardic features of ornamentation in the portals
and elsewhere which possibly date from the 7th or 8th
century. Tlie church of St Maria Maggiore, a simple buj
good example of the Italiati style of the loth century, was
the meeting-place of Ihe famous council (see below), and
possesses a picture containing portraits of the members.
Trent is the seat of a prince-archbishop, and has all the
public offices according with its administrative rank. It
has a museum and library, a gymnasium, a " lyceura," a
seminary, and a deaf and dumb institute. The chief
industries are silk-spinning and weaving, tanning, sugar-
refining, and glass-blowing ; and there is considerable trade
in wine, grain, and fruit, as also in marble from th*
extensive quarries in the neighbourhood. The population
in 1880 was 19,585.
Tridentum is mentioned by the geographers as capital of the Tri-
dentini, and seems ultimately to have been made a Roman colony.
ltsufi"ered much during- the period of barbaric invasion, but was
resuscitated by Theodoric, becoming the seat successively of Gothic
and Lombard dukes and Prankish counU. In 1027 it passed under
the rule of its bishops, with whom it had frefjueut disputes, in
which it sought the favour and alliance of the lords of Tyrol. Tho
■Venetians made repeated efforts to set up the lion of St Mark within
the walls of Trent, but were decisively and finally repulsed in 1487.
TRENT, The Council ok, which may be described as
the watershed of Roman Catholicism and Protestantism,
is the most important occurrence in post-mediseval church
history. It is the culminating event in a long series of
similar a.ssemblies, convoked to remedy the evils occasioned
during and by the great schism of the papacy, and by the
dissolution of lay and clerical morals to which the i>agan
temper of the Renaissance had largely contributed. But
the councils if Pisa, Constance, Basel, Ferrara-Florence,
and the Lateran had met and parted without attempting
to deal effectually with any of the practical scandals and
abuses in the church which were-sappiug the loyalty and
544
TRENT
[council.
affection it had formerly enjoyed ; and these repeated fail-
ures, by destroying all hope of redress at the hands of the
constituted authorities, precipitated the crash of the Re-
formation, which was in its inception scarcely concerned
with doctrinal issues directly, but aimed mainly at faults
of administration and morals.
Consequently a largely new problem presented itself
for solution, and necessitated a fundamental change in
the attitude of those concerned. Hitherto, whatever may
have been the fierceness and bitterness of the disputes
which the ISthcentury councils had attempted to allay,
they were, so to speak, family quarrels 'between members
of the same great household, accustomed to the same mode
of looking at religious, questions, acknowledging the same
hierarchy, and accepting the same standards, and thus
with a vast body of agreement to go upon as- a basis of
reconciliation, leaving only comparatively minor details to
be adjusted. But the German and Swiss Reformation had
generated new communions, novel alike in their polity and
much of their theology, and in active revolt, not merely
against this or that detail or abuse, but against the Roman
Catholic Church in its entirety, hierarchical, doctrinal, and
political. The movement had not been confined long to its
earlier limits, but had spread over all western Europe, had
virtually conquered Holland and Scandinavia, was mak-
ing great strides in France and England, and was begin-
ning to threaten even Italy and Spain. Thus, the task was
no longer the comparatively simple one of satisfying the
demands of friendly remonstrants, but of winning back
alienated nations, and, if that were too much to hoi)e
for, at least of saving the remnant of the Roman obedience
fropi further disintegration. And for this purpose it was
no longer sufficient, as it would have been a few years
earlier, to discuss administrative details alone, but a review
of the tvhole theological fabric of Latin Christianity, no
part of which had been left wholly unimpeachcd, became
a necessary factor in any possible scheme of reconcilia-
tion. True, a precedent had been set in the theological
discussions at the council of Ferrara-Florence, w'ith its
abortive effort to reunite Oriental and Latin Christendom,
but the area and number of differences to bo reconciled
upon that occasion were incomparably smaller than those
which had subsequently arisen, and the situation was thus
one of extreme ■difficulty and delicacy, sIjicc there was
always the danger of alienating many who had continued
loyal so far, if very largo concessions were made to the
revolted Protestants, not a few of whom, besides, had
nready passed beyond the possibility of reconciliation.
But, on the other hand, Luther had himself appealed to a
general council from the bull " E.\surgc Domino" launched
at him by Leo X. in 1.520, and his demand was taken up
by the emperor and the princes of Germany, whether
Catholics or Protestants, as the only conceivable means
ai terminating a crisis whose religious and [lolltlcal results
might prove far more serious than even tlie least hopeful
ventured to forecast. There was thus steady pressure from
one side put upon the Roman curia to obtain the con-
vocation of such a council, while scarcely less resistance
to the proposal was offered by two very unlike parties in
the Roman Church itself. For not only did those oppose
it who were interested in the maintenance of the principal
abuses complained of, and who feared that sweeping
measures might be taken for their abolition, but some of
the ablest cham|)ionsof internal reforms, snch as Cardinals
Sadolet, Contarini, and Reginald Pole, were equally hostile
to it, for the very diffcrerrt reason that they believed any
such council likely 'to contain a majority determined on
making it as abortive as those great synods had been
which were fresh in the memory of all. Accordingly, this
section ijave its voice for the alternative scheme of pro-
ceeding by way of less formal conferences, at which
mutual explanations and concessions might be made by
Catholics and Protestants, whereby a modus viveudi could
be established, with less chance of the whole effort being
wrecked by the Intrigues of tho.se who desired nothing
less than practical reforms. A fresh difficulty was pre-
sented by the opposition of the German princes to tlio
assemblage of the council at Rome or anywhere outside
Germany, as they distrusted the probable action of the
Italian element, certain to preponderate in that event ;
and, as the curia was equally bent on holding it within
the siihere of direct papal influence, this dispute made it
impracticable to agree even on the preliminaries during
the pontificates of Hadrian VI. and Clement VII. The
diet of Spires in 1.529 renewed the demand for a general
council, to be held in some large German city ; and the
diet of Augsburg in 1530 summoned the Lutherans to
return into Catholic communion at once and uncondition-
ally, leaving their doctrines (formulated in the Confession
of Augsburg that very year) to bo judged of in a future
council, which the emperor Charles V. pledged himself to
obtain within a brief space. Clement VII., then pope,
was displeased at this initiative on the emperor's part, but
offered to convoke a council in some Italian city, such as
Mantua or Milan, belonging to the empire, and outside the
States of the Church, — e.Npressing his wish that Charles V.
should personally attend it. I'.ut he hampered this pro-
posal witli conditions which made it valueless for the main
object of such an assembly, by declaring that no theo-
logical questions upon which the church had spoken could
be reopened, and that, if Protestants were to be admitted
to the council at all, it must be, not as disputants, but as
on their trial, and pledged beforehand to submit to the
decisions of the council. No result, consequently, followed
upon this step, nor was an embassy which Clement .sent
In 1533 to the German princes and to the kings of France
and England with very similar provisions more successful,
for it merely drew out a peremptory rejection of the
scheme from the Protestants assembled at Schmalkald, by
the emperor's desire, for the purpose of discussing it. So
the matter rested till the accession of Alexander Farnese
to the papal throne as Paul III. in 1534. A much abler
man than his predecessor, he was also more alive to the
imperative need of at least appearing to a]>prove some
measure of reform, if the church was to be .saved from
impending dangers (indeed, a report on this subject, drawn
up at his desire by a committee of cardinals In IS.'iG, is
one of the most important documents of the era), and ho
was thought to be favourable to the project of a council,
whereas there is little doubt that Clement VII. had
weighted his acceptance of the plan with impossible con-
ditions, in order to avoid its realization, yet so as to let the
responsibility of refusal rest with others than hinjself.
Paul III. sent Vorgerio as envoy into Germany, to confer
with the emperor and the princes, offering to convoke a
council at Mantua, and urging the danger of attempting
to hold it in Germany, by reason of the violent lengths to
which the Anabaptists were then proceeding. But, while
the Catholic princes were content with this offer, it was
refused by the Protestants, and th'e ambassadors of France
and England supported them in their attitude. Vcrgcrio,
who had also a fruitless interview with Luther, returned
to Rome early in 1 530, but Paul III. was not discouraged
by his failure, and proposed, in a consistory ou Aprd 8, to
convoke a council at Mantua. This plan was in turn
u|pset, not only by the continued . resistance of the
Protestants, but by the refusal of the duke of Mantua to
permit the use of his city for such a purpose, unless upon
conditions which the pope was unwilling to accept.
Notice was accordingly given of a council to be opened
•COUNCIL, j
TRENT
54S
at Vicenia on May 1, 1538, and legates were despatched
thitber to make the preliminary arrangements, and to
preside so soon as the members should assemble. But
when the appointed time was only five days off not one
bishop had arrived, and the pope was forced to prorogue
the council again and again Meanwhile, the method
vhich Contarini and Sadolet had recommended, that of
conferences between the Catholics and Protestants, was
being acted oa in Germany, and meetings of this nature
were convened successively at Haguenau, Worms, and
Ratisboo, at the last of which, in 1541, Contarini was
present as legate of the pope, and showed so much tact,
moderation, and sympathy that he succeeded in securing
a large measure of agreement upon the controversies in
dispute, notably on the vexed question of Justification.
But, as his concessions and explanations were promptly
repudiated at Rome, no practical result followed. In 1542
Paul rU sent Morone as his envoy to the diet of Spires
to offer Trent as his final concession of the place of
assembly, on the ground that its position in Tyrol, and its
being part of the dominions of the king of the Romans,
ought to meet all the reasonable requirements of the
German princes. Ferdinand, king of the Romans, who
presided at the diet, was content with this offer, as were
the Catholic princes generally, but the Protestants con-
tinued to object, and refused any council which should not
be completely free from papal influence and authority.
However, the pope issued, on May 22, 1542, a bull
appointing the meeting of the council for November 1 fol-
lowing. He sent three legates to Trent to make prepara-
tions,— Morone, Parisio, and Reginald Pole ; but they did
not reach the city tiU three weeks later than the appointed
date for opening the council, and so few bishops arrived
during seven months from that time that it was necessary
to prorogue the assembly In fact, the idea of the council
was distasteful to a very large proportion of the Latin
clergy, especially such as apprehended danger to their
private interests from the reforming plans of the pope, and
also such as were alarmed lest serious religious innova-
tions might be made in order to conciliate the Protestants.
While this delay continued, another diet at Spires in
1544 resulted in great advantages to the Lutherans, who
availed themselves of the political straits of Charles V.
to extort several important concessions from him. The
obnoxious edicts passed against them at Worms and
Augsburg were rescinded ; they were permitted to retain
such ecclesiastical property as they had seized , they were
made eligible for such civil and ecclesiastical offices as had
been previously barred against them ; and general tolera-
tion for the time being was established This policy was
extremely distasteful to the pope, who addressed a brief
to the emperor, strongly remonstrating against it, and
renewing his offer of a council Charles V., who had not
been a free agent in the matter, was much of the pope's
mind, and proceeded to relieve himself of one difficulty in
the way of reversing his action, by concluding peace with
Francis I. of France on September 8, 1544 Hereupon
Paul III. directed public thanksgivings to be offered
throughout the whole Latin Church, and issued a bull
removing the suspension of the council, and summoning
it to meet at Trenton March 15, 1545 Unable from age
and illness to be present himself, as he had wished, he
named Giammaria del Monte, bishop of Palestrina (after-
wards Pope Julius IIL), Marcello Cervini (afterwards Pope
Marcellus IL), and Reginald Pole as his legates. The ex-
perience of former abortive openings was repeated, for
they found but one bishop awaiting them, and so few con-
tinued to arrive that a fresh prorogation was forced upon
the legates, and the pope, in the bull authorizing this
action, added a proviso that no proxies should be received.
but that all bishops summoned should attend in person,
under severe penalties for contumacy. On November 7,
1545, the legates received final instructions to opea the
council upon December 13, and did so with solema cere-
monial, but only as a formal initiative of the proceedings,
for the first session was postponed till January 7, 1546.
When that time arrived, no more than some five aid
twenty archbishops and bishops, five generals of religious
orders, and the ambassadors of King Ferdinand had as-
sembled, and none of the conciliar officers had yet bees
nominated, nor any programme of procedure sketched out
The most important question arising under this last head
was whether the voting should be taken by nations, as at
the council of Constance, or by individuals, and the matter
was referred to the pope, who gave his decision for the
latter, as at once the more ancient (since Constance and
Basel were the only precedents for the national vote) and
the more convenient. Moreover, this ruling secured from
the outset a wofkitg majority of Italian bishops in the
assembly, at once by reason of the small size of the average
Italian diocese, and of the greater ease with which Treat
could be reached from Italy than from any other country
which sent representatives thither, besides enabling the
pope to swell the majority (as in the Vatican council three
centuries later) with bishops in partibua, having no
dioceses or jurisdiction, thus amply justifyipg the objec-
tion taken all along by the German Protestants to the
assemblage of the council anywhere outside Germany.
Some preliminaries had to be settled before the second session,
and the plan of holding private "general congregations.'' where
theologians of non-epi^copal i-ank could sit and share in the dis-
cussion and preparation of the decrees to be proposed and voted O"
in public session, was at once adopted and observed thenceforward-
And first, the question wa3 raised whether any persons except
bishops sbnuld be allowed to vote upon matters of aoctrine. Tho
decision was that the vote should be allowed to the generals o:
religious orders also, and that the right of the proxies of abscc;
bishops to vote should be referred to the pope. The title to be
given to the council at th,e head of the decrees in each session waji
then discussed, and a proposal to add the words "representing the
church universal " (as at Basel and Constance) to the usual formula
"general and oecumenical" was rejected at the instance of the
legates, as indirectly menacing to papal autocracy. The legates
also privately informed the pope that the majority of the members
desired to take up the question of practical reforms before that ci
doctrine, and that it might be necessary to yield the point to avoid
scandal or the imputation of sympathy with abuses, out that thev
would insist, in that case, on making the measures of reform apply
all round, to pnnces and laymen as well aa to ecclesiastics, wmcb
would probably damp the ardour of its advocates.
The actual bttsiness of the second session (January 7, 1546) was
confined to the promulgation of a decree touching the discipline t^
be observed by the members of the couneildurine its progress, ao
well in the matters of their private devotion and their food as lo
the conduct of the debates. The congregations \thich preceded
the third session were mainly occupied with debating the thorny
question of the order in which the discussion of faith and of dis-
ciplina was to come, and it was at last agreed to take theo.
simultaneously.
So few additional bishops had arrived up to this time that it was
judged inexpedient to promulgate any decrees in the third session
(February 4, 1648), and little was done except the public rscitation
of the Niceno-Constantinopolitan creed as the authoritative con-
fession of the Roman Church, and. as the council worded it, " that
firm and only foundation against which the gates of hell shall not
prevail" A fortnight after this third session Martin Luther died
(February 18, 1546), just as the situation in Germany was becoming
more strained, and the emperor, alarmed at the rapid advance of
Reformed opinions and practices (ooUbly in the Palatinate, where
the elector had made large concessions), was taking measures for
suppressing tie religious revolt by force of arms. The canon o(
Scripture was proposed in the congregations before the fourth
session as the subject for discussion, and the three foUowine
questions were raised —(1) Were all the books of both Testaments
to be approved and received f (2) Was there to be a fresh inquiry
into their canonical character before giving such approval' (3)
Should there be any distinction drawn between the books, as being
some of them read merely for moral instruction, and othera foi
proving the doctrines of Christian belief! The first of these
questions was decided affirmatively. The second led to much de-
XXIIL — 69
646
TRENT
bate; the conclusion arrived at was tliat a secret cxamiuatioii of
the evidence should be made, but not' suffered to appear in the
public acts of the council. The third question was decided nega-
tively. These congregations were the first wherein theological
experts and canonists, not being members of the council, were
admitted to a share in the discussions. The nature and function
of tradition was also debated at this time, and the legates informed
the pope that there was a strong tendency in the council to set it
aside altogether, and to make Scripture the sole standard of appeal.
Another burning question debated was that of vernacular transla-
tion and lay study of Scripture. The result, in the fourth session
(April 8, 1546), was the promulgation of two decrees, the first of
which enacts, under anathema, that Scripture and tradition are to
be received and venerated equally, and tliat the deutcro-canonical
books are part of the canon of Scripture. The second decree de-
clared the Vulgate to be the sole authentic and standard Latin
version, and gave it such authority as to supersede tlie original
texts; forbade the interpretation of Scripture contrary to the sense
received by tlie church, "or even contrary to the unanimous con-
sent of the fathers"; imposed various restrictions upon printers
and vendors of Cibles; made licences to read any Biblical, manu-
script or publication compulsory; and prohibited the application
of Scripture language to profane and superstitious purposes. The
subjects next taken up were the doctrine of original sin and the
reformation of abuses concerned with preachers an<l lecturers, whicli
were made the matter of two decrees in the fifth session (Juno 17,
1546). -The most noticeable point in the former is the saving
clause, whereby the tenet of the Immaculate Conception of tlie
Blessed Virgin is excepted from decision, and left oiwn ; the latter
enjoins the erection of a lectureship of Scripture in all cathedrals,
collegiate churches, and monasteries, imposes the duty of preaching
upon all bishops and persons with cure of souls, lays down stringent
rules as to preaching licences, and forbids tlie "questors" (tliat
is, the collectors of alms commissioned by the mendicant orders)
to preach anywhere. There was a treaty concluded between the
pope and the emperor a few days after tliis session, to make war
against the German Protestants on the express ground of their
refnsal to submit to the council, and from tliis may be datc<l the
end of any serious effort in the council itself to deal with the
question of reconciliation, althougli the original motive for its
convocation. Moreover, so little interest was fell even by the
liomau episcopate in the proceedings at Trent that, instead of fresh
accessions coming to recruit the small numbers present, constant
defections took place, and a proposal to stop this by forbidding
any bishop to quit Trent without formal permission was carried.
The doctrine of Justification, made a burning question by the pro-
minence given to it in Lutheran theology, was next taken up, and,
this being, so to speak, a new controversy, with few precedents
to guide the council, the discussion w.rs pioportionably protracted.
It is noteworthy that Luther's views found some supporters, and
the resignation of the legateship at tliis time by Ucgmald Pole,
and his departure from the council, never to return, is attributed to
his dissatisfaction with tlio conclusions arrived at upon this subject
in its decree. The disciplinary .question discus.scd at this time was
that of the obligation of residence, especially as regards bishops ;
and decrees upon both these subjects were promulgated in the sixth
session (January 13, 1547),— that on Justification being a formal
dogmatic treatise in sixteen chapters, tliirty-threo canons; that
on residence reviving former canons, and imposing new penalties,
but avoiding the solution of a question hotly debated in the council,
whether the residence of bishops was obligatoiy jure divino, or
merely by ecclesiastical precept. Meanwhile, Charles V was
victorious in his war with the Protestants, and had all Germany
In his power, but, inste»d of using the opportunity, as the pope
Expected, to put down the Reformers, he alleged that the recent
war had not been one of religion, and assumed an attitude of tolera-
tion. Hereupon Paul III., in order to break up this truce, sent
instructions to the legates to press on decrees displeasing to the
Protestants, judging that the emperor's well-known interest in the
council would cause him to be accounted responsible for its measures,
nnd thus lose all credit for his recent forbearance. In the seventh
session, held on March 3, 1547, two decrees were promulgated.— one
[Icfiniiig the -sacraments as seven in number, and as being, all
channels of grace, also adding speci.al canons concerning baptism
and confirmation ; the other dealing with pluralities, unions ol
benefices, repair of churches, and kindred matters, but with no
great stringency. A more important part of the business of this
session was the open declaration of a nieasnro which the pope and
the legates had been privately planning for some time, the trans-
ference of the council from Trent to some city more directly under
fa|)al control ; for, while Trent sufficed for headquarters as against
rotestaiits, yet it was found that a virtual coalition between the
Spanish, French, and German bishops to resist the Italians inter-
fered with the intentions of the papal court, and could be most
effectively broken up by a change of place. Occasion was accord
ingly taken from nil outbreak of disease, alleged to be infectious,
at Trent to issue a hull transferring the council to Bologue, which
[COUKCIL.
was read in the seventh session, while the promulgation of a decree
in accordance with it formed the whole business of the eighth
session (March U, 1547). When it had been passed, the legatet
produced a brief which they had obtained more than two years
before, empowering them to transfer tho council as they pleased.
But, while they themselves quitted Trent the next day, and were
followed by the majority of the bishops, those of the emperor's
party continued in session at Trent, and refused to leave it without
the permission of their sovereign, though they abstained from al'
conciliar action, in order to avoid the charge of schism. Charles
V . incensed at the pope's action, sent a mandate approving and
confirming their conduct The ninth session, held at Bologiit
(April 21, 1547), and the tenth also (June 2, 1547), were merely
formal, nothing being done save to prorogue the council. The
practical result of this split in the council was to relieve the Pro-
testants from imminent peril ; for, while the emperor's successes
enabled him to put severe pressure upoir them to submit to it
decrees, it was itself incapacitated for valid action, as neither the
bishops at Bologna nor those at Trent could claim to be the whole
council, nor demand acceptance of their acts as binding. Hence
Charles V. was urgent for the return of the entire body to Trent,
and threatened, in caso of refusal, to go to Rome, and hold th(
council there himself And he took an even more peremptory step
by constituting himself arbiter of the whole controversy, appointing
Julius Pllug, bishop of Naumburg, a prelate known to be friendly
to the Lutherans, Michael Holding, called Sidonius, afterwards
bishop of Merscburg, and John Agricola, a Lutheran writer of
some mark, to draft an eirenicon upon the points in dispute, which
was published under the title of the " Interim," by the emperor's
authority, at the diet of Augsburg, May 15, 1548. It proved,
however, inefficacious, and was formally repudiated and answered
by tho Catholic princes and states of the empire, nnd yet mora
peremptorily by tbe Protestants, its only result being the " In-
terimistic controversy." It was succeeded by another fornrulary
concerning reformation, accepted by the diet. While the emperor
was endeavouring to force the " Interim " upon his dominions, the
pope, on his part, strove to remove the dead-lock of the divided
council, and convoked a committee to consist of members of both
the Bolognese and the Tridentine sections to confer upon ecclesi-
astical reforms. But the bisliops at Trent, having communicated
with the emperor, and waited three weeks for his sanction, re-
fused to leave that city, and the pope was compelled to direct the
legates at Bologna to dismiss the bishops assembled there, and to
announce the suspension of the council, which was accordingly
done upon September 17, 1549. Paul III died on November 10,
1549, and was succeeded on February 7, 1550, by Cardinal del
Monte, the chief legate at t!ie council, who took the title of Juliur
III "I'l'.e break in the continuity of tho council occasioned by
these proceedings lasted till May 1, 1551, when the eleventh session
was held at Trent under the presidency of Cardinal Crcscenzio.
sole legate in title, but with two nuncios, Pighini and Lipporaani,
as co-ordinate assessors. It was merely formal, as was also the
twelfth session, on September 1, 1551. Just at this time Henry
II., king of France, having quarrelled with the pope about the duchy
of Parma, sent an envoy to the council at Trent, with letters
styling it a "convention,'* denying its cecumenical character,
declaring that it was not accessible to himself or to the French
bishops, and notifying a protest against the validity of its pro-
ceedings, which he desired might be registered, and a copy of the
register returned to iiim. No reply was made to this demand ; so
Henry dismissed the papal nuncio from his court, and published a
manifesto to justify liiiiisclf, at the same time that, in order to
repel any charge of sympathy with the Protestants, he promulgated
a severe edict against tliein. Cut the absence of Fieiich bishops,
and the comparatively scanty attendance from Germany, threw
matters more than ever into the hands of the Italian majority, as
appeared from tlie decrees promulgated in tho thirteentfi session
(October 11, 1551), and indeed from the attitude taken up by the
legates just before it For the obstinate refusal of the Protestants
to attend or even recognize the council was on the point of giving
way, and the imperial ambassadors demanded a safe-conduct for
such as miglit present themselves, with some warranty that it
should be really safe. They also desired the postponement of auy
decision on tlie doctrine of the Eucharist, ^nd especially as regards
the communion of the laity in the chalice. The pope expressed
himself willing to giant both these demands, but no real attention
was paid to either of them. As respects the attendance of the
Protestants, the letters of Francis Vargas, fiscal (attorney-general)
in Spain to Charles V., nnd his agent at the council, state plainly
that the legates merely pretended to desire it, and were secretly
doing everything to prevent it, while the very points as to which
delay had been promised were made the subject of the decrees JD
the above-named session The decree on the Knehanst was
specially directed against Lutheran and Zwinglian opinions then
recently broached, and was couched in eight cfiapters with eleven
canons appended. It reasserted tlie doctrine of TiansubstantiatioD,
already defined by the fourth Laterau council in 1216, while, b]p
COL'SCIL,]
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547
the third cf the oaiions, wliich declares that the wnole sacrament is
entire in each kind, it indirectly, though effectively, ruled against
the gmnt of the chalice to the laity; and in fact the Reformed
thesis that they were entitled to it by divine right, and could not
b« debarred from it without sin, was uuKuimously condemned in
the previous con"regation. Some unimportant decrees affecting
the criminal jurisdiction of bishops, and for referring the trials of
bishops themselves to the pope, were enacted at the same time;
but more'noteworthy was a decree for postponing the decision upon
lay and infant communion, and for granting a safe-conduct to the
Protestants, which was the last businesa transacted upon this
sccasion. But the safe-conduct was worded so as to excite general
ind reasonable suspicion on the part of those to whom it was
jflered, and Vargas, who was no friend to their opinions, comments
freely upon its deceptive ambiguity. In the fourteenth session
;Kovember 25, 1551) decrees upon penance and extreme unction,
prepared in the congregations, and embodied in twelve chapters
upon the former and three on the latter topic, followed severally
by fifteen and four canons, were promulgated. Some disciplinary
enactments affecting the clergy, and corrective of minor abuses,
were enacted at the same time, the most important provisions being
the abolition of the papal dispensations exempting their holders
from the jurisdiclioa ot the ordinary, and the restriction of th«
iction of titular bishops. But the reforming party in the council
was much discontented with the inadequacy of these measures,
which added little to the very small progress made so far in the
revival of discipline. Although no Protestant theologians had yet
presented themselves at Trent, representatives of the duke of
Wiirtemberg arrived at tliis time, who were instructed fo lay the
Wiirtemberg Confession before the council, and to say that Pro-
testant divines w-ho could give explanations of it were waiting some
forty miles from Trent, and were prepared to attend the conncil so
soon as a safe-conduct exactly conformable with that granted to
the Bohemians by the council of basel was issued, and on the
further conditions that the -discussions actually going on should
b« suspended and all the matters so far decided be reopened, that
the pope should cease to preside by legates or otherwise, but
declare his own submission to the decrees of the council, and
absolve the bishops from their oath of allegiance to himself in
order to secure their liberty of action. The envoys refused to treat
ith the legates at all, and conducted their negotiations through
,Ae imperial ambassadors Crescen?!© was very angry, and refused
ill concession, even going so far as to abstract the conciliar seal,
lest the safe-conduct mi^'ht be granted ; but pressure was put upon
him by the imperial anibasbadors, and he was forced to consent to
the admission of the Protestant envoys at a private congregation
to be held in his own house, though he resisted the demand for
introducing them to a public session. And, when the safe-conduct
was reca.st, it was found to diH'er seriously from that proposed as
its model, especially by failing to give the Protestants the rights
)f session and suffrjige, of obser^'iog their own religion in their
houses, and of being_guarant<;*'d against insults to their creed. To
the remonstrances made in consequence the legate returned a per-
emptory reply, refusing to make any further change, and only the
instances of the oin>eror,then at Innsbruck, but three days'journey
from Trent, indnced the Protestant envoys to remain a little longer,
to find if any better terms could be obtained. Some more Protestant
envoys from Strasburg nnd other cities, and from Maurice of
Saxony, arrived early in 1552, and were admitted to a congregation
held on January 24, where they renewed the demands already
mentioned, and required also that the decrees of Constance and
Basel,- declaring the pope inferior and subject to a general council,
should be reaffirmed. They were promised an answer in due time,
and the fifteenth session was held the next day (January 25, 1552),
wherein the council was prorogued, and a safe-conduct more in
accordance with the Protestant demands was drawn up and pub-
lished. It is remarkable, howe^. for one omission, and for one
significant clause. The omission is that of toleration for the
pfivate exercise of their religion ; the insertion is a proviso pledging
the council not to availltself, "for this one occasion," of any laws
or canons whatever, "especially those of Constance and Siena," as
against the Protestants. The reference is to the canon of Constance
by means of which John Huss was tried and burut, declaring a
safe-conduct no protection against trial for heresy, even if the
accused has come in reliance on the safe-conduct, and would not
have come without it, which canon was reaffirmed at the council
of Siena in 1423 While the negotiations occasioned by these
proceedings were in course, war broke out anew in Germany,
and Maurice of Saxony obtained considerable successes over the
emperor, took Augsburg, and was marching down upon Tyrol,
so that Charles V. fled in haste from Innsbruck, and the legate
convened the sixteenth session (April 28, 1552) of the council,
wherein a decree was promulgated .'suspending it for two years in
consequence of the perils of war. There was a general stampede
from Trent at once, and the legate Crescenzio, tlien very ill, had
just strength to reach Verona, where he died three days after his
arrival.
So ended what is styled by some historians, and cor-
rectly, the first council of Trent, for, although the usual
computation recognizes only one such council, yet an in-
terruption of ten years, a widely changed personality, and
a marked alteration in tone make the resumed synod
virtually another assembly, and one by no means entitled
to the degree of respect which the ability and learning of
many members of that first convoked won for it. When
the council dispersed, Julius III. at once in consistory
repeated the policy of Paul III., and nominated a com-
mittee to .prepare a scheme of reform, bu^ it never took
action of any kind ; and at the close of the two years'
suspension of the council the question was put in con-
sistory as to the resumption of the sessions, and decided,
with the pope's approval, in the negative. Julius' IIL
died on March 23, 1555, and was succeeded on April 11,
1555, by Cardinal Marcel lo Cervini, one of the former
legates at the council, a man of high reputation for
personal devoutneas and freedom from that sympathy with
abuses which marked too many of the dignitaries of the
time. He took the title of Marcellus II., and his first
public utterance was to intimate his purpose of re-
assembling the council, and of carrying out a plan of
thorough reform in discipline, particularly directed to
abating the pomp and luxury of the prelacy. But he was
in feeble health when elected, and the fatigues of his new
position brought on an attack of apoplexy which carried
him oS three weeks after his accession. In his room
was chosen, on May 23, 1555, Cardinal Giovanni Pietro
Caraffa, who took the title of Paul IV. He was known
to profess great austerity of life, to have actually founded
the Theatines, an ascetic community, and to be a stern and
implacable advocate for several measures of repression
against innovators in matters of religion or impugners of
papal prerogative, as he quickly showed by setting up the
Inquisition in Rome, and taking care that it should not be
idle. His election consequently caused much alarm, and
was especially displeasing to the emperor ; and the earlier
acts of his pontificate seemed to justify the estimate
formed of his character and the fears of those who
apprehended that he n-ould proceed to reform discipline
in a swifter and more drastic fashion than had hitherto
been essayed. For in fact he pledged himself to this
effect in the first bull published after his accession, follow-
ing it up with a show of activity by at once setting some
minor reforms on foot.
During these three years important events had taken
place in Germany. By the peace of Passau in 1553, the
Protestants of the Augsburg Confession were secured from
all molestation, and in the free exercise of their religion
and of their civil rights, and this was followed up by a
decree of the diet of Augsburg, on September 25, 1553,
that, failing a national council to settle the religious
disputes, the emperor, the king of the Romans, and the
other Catholic princes should not interfere in any way with
the religious liberties of the Lutherans holding to the
Confession of Augsburg, provided they in their turn would
exhibit equal tolerance towards Catholics, that no penalty,
save the loss of benefices, should ' be imposed on any
Catholic ecclesiastics joining the Lutheran body; and that
such benefices as the Protestants had already annexed for
the support of their schools and ministers should remaiD
in their possession. Paul IV. was much incensed at these
proceedings, and used all efforts to procure their repeal,
on the failure of which be openly broke with the emperor,
formed an alliance with the French king against him, and
imprisoned the cardinals and other personages of the
imperial party on whom he could lay hands, confiscating
the property of such as saved themselves by flight. He
' "ontinued for a time in the measures of reform with which
548
TRENT
[council.
he began his reign, striking against jobbery, pluralities,
dispensations, and laxity of clerical manners ; but all this
short-lived zeal was speedily neutralized by his nepotism,
surpassing that of any of his predecessors, and throwing
the government of the States of the Church into the hands
of his dissolute nephews, upon whom he rained all the
wealth, honours, and authority in his power to bestow.
And, as was to be expected, he set himself steadily to
oppose every one of the class of reforms which touched
:lcJEtrinal questions, just those for which the Protestants
were urgent, encouraging only such as promoted the unity
»nd discipline of the Roman Church itself, and made it
;nore capable of efEective resistance to the Reformation.
tie was not favourable to the reassembling of the council,
not merely because of his experience of its languid action,
nor even his dislike of the straggles of the non-Italian
minority to assert some measure of independence against
the coercive tutelage exerted by the several papal legates
from the very first, but because he regarded himself as the
!ole and proper person to consider such matters at all, and
a bull of his own promulgation a better mode of procedtire,
it once in fulness of authority and swiftness of formulation,
than any conciliar decree. Consequently, no step for the
resumption of the council was taken during' his reign,
which ended on August 18, 1559. After a longer inter-
regnum than usual, Giovanni Angelo de' Medici (not a
member of the great Florentine house, but of humble
Milanese extraction) was elected on December 26, 1559,
is Pius rV. Markedly unlike his predecessor in almost
every personal quality, he was much his superior in
practical shrewdness and tact, and had none of that dislike
to a councU which Paul IV. had shown. So great, too,
bad been the strides made by the Reformation during his
predecessor's reign that h'o might well think Paul IV.'s
policy undesirable, and he had this special motive for
reversing it, that a movement was going on in France for
the convocation of a national council there to consider the
whole religious situation, which might very conceivably
result in a revolt like that of England from the Roman
obedience. Accordingly, Pius IV. determined on the
resumption of the council of Trent, and issued a bull on
ITovember 29, 1560, convoking it anew.
But the whole face of Western Christendom, the whole
religious situation, had materially changed since the ori-
ginal assemblage of the synod in 1545. First, the imposing
personality of Charles V. was removed from the scene,
ind Ferdinand I., his successor, enjoyed neither his per-
sonal ascendency nor his political power, and could not
be accounted as a possible competitor with the pope for
the first place in the Catholic world, nor even ca an ally-
tvith means for crushing the Reformation. Next, the
Reformation itself was by this time an accprnplished fact,
1 consummated revolt from mediaeval Christianity. It
bad taken definite shape in various countries ; it had its
DWTi theological systems and traditions ; besides that a
whole generation had now grown up under its influence,
lever having had any personal associations with Latin
Christianity. And, on the .other hand, the very lengths
X) which some of the Reformers had gone in their revolt
renerated a corresponding reaction in the Roman Church,
10 that many influential persons who had been in favour
)f moderate reforms and of explaining disputed points of
;heology were convinced that no limits could be logically
)r practically set to concessions in this direction, and
iherefore that it was necessary to make a stand against
my concessions at all. And, what is more, one noticeable
iffect of the wave of controversy which had swept over
vestem Europe was to accentuate points of difference, to
lose questions previously open, to make the current beliefs
nore incisive and, so to speak, legal iir form, to diminish
seriously the neutral area between the competing religious
systems, and thus to bring them face to face as irrecon-
cilable foes. One factor more, of greater importance at
the time than any other, contributed to the revolution
which is marked by the second council of Trent. As
Spain took the political lead in the earlier half of the 16th
century, so it took also the lead in theology. The Spanish
divines were abler and more learned than all save the very
foremost in any other country, and their influence was
throughout the greatest at the council of Trent on purely
theological issues. Now, the political and the theological
genius of Spain had both just found their highest exponent
in one person and the organization which he devised,
Ignatius Loyola and the Company of the Jesuits. Two of
his immediate disciples and recruits, Salmeron and Laynez,
were chosen to be the pope's theologians at the council of
Trent, and exercised a greater influence than any other
divines there in the formulation of its dogmatic decrees.
But the Jesuits were to do more than this. The militant
spirit of their founder had nothing in common with the
alarm and vacillation which had for the most part marked
the action of the Roman Church in dealing vrith the
Lutheran and Calvinist revolt ; and, instead of being con-
tent with devising schemes ior standing on the defensive,
and saving the remnant yet left to the Roman obedience,
he conceived the bolder and safer plan of vigorous aggrea.
sion, to reconquer all that had been lost, and to add fresh
acquisitions thereto. The Counter-Reformation which he
initiated was in full operation when the second council of
Trent assembled, and it was by this spirit that it was
guided in its deliberations and decrees. The very thought
of compromise was abandoned in fact, if not in open
expression, and the only reforms thenceforward taken into
consideration were such as would remove causes of weak-
ness and scandal in the Latin Church, enabling it, without
sacrificing one of its claims, to overcome by superior mass
and discipline, by closer unity and more organized enthusi-
asm, the heterogeneous, disordered, and alrlady dissociated
forces of Protestantism. The most obvious effect of these
principles upon the second council of Trent was that the
diminution, the all but disappearance, of variety of opinion
amongst its members, and the resolution to crush Protest-
antism rather than to parley with it in any scheme of
mutual concession or accommodation, tended to shorten
the preliminary discussions in a marked degree, so that
little is to be noted of the long- and animated debates of
the earlier period, and the last few sessions exhibit even
tokens of actual hurry to end the matter anyhow
There was no intention on the pope's part to proclaim
the Counter-Reformation as the policy of the council, even
if it may be safely assumed that he could predict its
action, and he sent nuncios to the Protestant sovereigns
as well as to the Catholics to signify the approaching
resumption of its sittings. Francis II. of France had died
between the promulgation of the bull and its notification
in France, but the young king Charles IX., by the advice
of the parlement of Paris,- dire«ted all the bishops of the
kingdom to be in readiness for journeying to Trent.
Three nuncios were despatched to Germany, but the
princes assembled in diet at Naumburg received them
unfavourably, asserting anew their determination to
recognize no council which did not avow Scripture as its
standard of appeal and give right of free discussion to
Protestants, denying the right of any one save the emperor
to convene a general council at all, and inveighing strongly
against the papacy. The king of Denmark declined to
admit the nuncio on any terms, declaring that neither be
nor his father had ever had any dealings with the pope ;
and Martinenghi, the nuncio commissioned to Elizabeth of
England, was stopped by a messenger while still on the
C0CXC1L.J
TRENT
S49
CoQtinental side of the Channel, and informed that he
would not be permitted to land on the English coast.
The free cities of the empire also refused the summons, a's
did five of the Swiss cantons ; and even a large number
of Roman Catholic prelates, while professing unqualified
obedience to the pope's commands, showed much unwilling-
ness to act upon them, and pleaded age, illness, or dio-
cesan business as excuses for absenting themselves from
the council. In this unpromising posture of affairs the
preparations for the council were pressed on, and Cardinals
Ercole Gonzaga, bishop of Mantua, Seripando, Hosius,
Simoneta, and (later on) Altemps, the pope's nephew, were
named as legates, being directed to open the session of the
council upon Easter Day, April 6, 1561. But they did
not even arrive in Trent until April 16, and found no
more than nine bishops awaiting them. Several causes
conduced to this disappointment : the king of Spain had
not yet accepted the bull convoking the council ; the
French bishops were more than fully occupied with the
rapid advances of the Reformation in their midst ; and
the Germans had no great inclination for the repetition of
their experience ten years before. It was thus necessary
to postpone the assemblage till January I and then to
January 18, 1562. That there might be a sufficient
number of Italian bishops present to outvote any possible
combination of others, the pope collected a large number
of prelates, appointed them salaries for maintenance, and
sent them otf to Trent. Two questions of the highest
practical importance came up for discussion in the pre-
liminary congregation, wherein ninety-two bishops v.ere
present; — (1) Was the council to be styled a "continua-
tion " of the previous one, or to be reckoned as a new
synod 1 (2) Should the unprecedented clause in the papal
decree for opening the council (but not found in the bull
of convocation), " proponentibus legatis ac praesidentibus,"
be accepted and acted on, or rescinded 1 To declare the
council a " continuation " of its precursor was to accept
and ratify all which had been done therein ; to treat it as
a new one was to make every decree of the earlier sessions
merely provisional and alterable. To adopt the novel
clause embodied in the papal decree was to gag the council
from the outset and deprive it of freedom by concentrat-
ing the initiative in the hands of the legates ; and Guerrero,
archbishop of Granada, pressed this objection with much
urgency. On the other hand, this same prelate, acting on
the orders of Philip U., demanded that the council should
be plainly declared a continuation of its precursor, for
Philip had already introduced some of the regulations of
that synod into his dominions, and would lose credit if
they were rescinded, or even treated as lacking full
sanctic^D Contrariwise, the bishops of other nations
present held that there was no prospect of inducing the
Germans, English, and other partly alienated nationalities
to send representatives, unless the proceedings so far should
be regarded as capable of reconsideration and alteration at
the hands of the actual assembly. The authorities at
Rome were not unprepared for some difficulty on this
head, and had endeavoured to evade it by using the
indeterminate word "celebrated," which might be taken
either way, and the Spanish remonstrants were privately
told that it was understood that business should be taken
up just where it had left oS under Julius III., thus
making the- synod a continuation of the former one, but
that any express statement to that effect had been carefully
avoided, lest the Protestants should take ofiEence, and thus
one aim of the council might be defeated. The Spaniards
were partly contented with this reply, but urged that
nothing which could be interpreted as the convocation of
a new council should be suffered to appear in the wording of
the decree about to be publicly read, which was conceded.
Tlie seventeenth session w.is licld (.January IS, 1562) in the
presence of the legates, — 100 bishops, 4 abbots, 4 generals of orders,
and the duke of Mantua, nephew of the nhief legate, being present.
Four Spanish bishops lodged a protest against tlie proposing clause
— two of them unreservedly, two in a more qualified manner — and
they particularly objected to the novelty of the clause, and to the
manner in which it had been sprung upon the council, the arch-
bishop of Granada and tlie bishop of Orense pointing out that it
was not in the original bull, with whicli the subsequent decree
ought to be in complete agreement, aud the former adding that it
was not even in the copy of the decree shown to him. But the
Italian majority was too strong, and the protest was overruled, —
the prorogation of the council to February 26, 15G2, being the only
further business transacted. But a very important question was
laid before the congregations wliich followed this session, that of
providing some remedy for the injury done to the Roman Catholic
Church by the circulation of more or less hostile books, a difficulty
made incomparably greater from the middle of the 15th century
onwards than at any previous time in history, by reason of the
invention of printing. The council of Latcran in 1515 had made
a licence from the ecclesiastical authorities requisite before any
book could be printed, under pain of excommunication, but this
penalty did not affect Protestant printers, and the issue of a
catalogue of books forbidden to Catholic's became a necessary addi-
tion. Such a catalogue was issued by Paul IV, in 1559, but some
machinery for supplementing it as fresh books poured from the
Sresa could alone meet the permanent danger. Another matter
ebated in these congregations was the invitation of Protestants to
attend, and in what character. In the eighteenth session (February
26, 1662) two decrees on these subjects were promulgated, — one
appointing a committee to report to the council on the whole
question of heretical books ; the other publishing a safe-conduct to
the German Protestants, extended by a rider to those of other
nations. The congregations held after this session were busied
chiefly with the questions of residence and the abuse of indulgences,
besides several less important details of reform, A warm debate
arose as to the nature of the obligation to reside, — the Spaniards
holding it to be of divine right, the Italians to be of no more thar
ecclesiastical precept. So powerful a body in the council took the
Spanish view that the legates were alarmed, especially as ominoui
speeches were made to the effect that the Roman curia must be re-
formed on the basis of the report cf cardinals to Paul III. befori
anything of moment could be done in the way of real improvement.
Accordingly, they sent a messenger to the pope, bringing with him
a schedule of the proposed reforms, and askiug for advice in 'the
crisis. The pope desired them to counteract the opposition bishops,
to postpone the question of residence, if they could not suppress it
altogether, and despatched Viscontl, bishop of Ventimiglia, a£
extra nuncio to t'ne council, to report accurately to him everything
said or done there, and with him sent also all the bishops who
could be collected at Rome to swell the Italian vote, and thus
defeat the opposition indirectly. There was much debate also OD
the scope of the safe-conduct, as the Spaniards were anxious that
it should not protect those against whom the Inquisition had taken
action, while others desired to see its terms enlarged sufficiently
to meet the requirements of the Protestants, who objected to its
suspicious silence on several weighty particulars. As the French
ambassadors were expected, nothing was done in the nineteenth
session (May 14, 1562) save to prorogue the council. Oil May 26,
1652, DeLanssac (who had been lately French envoy at Rome),
Du Ferrier, and De Pibrac, envoys from Charles IX , were ad-
mitted to audience, and demanded, amongst other matters, that
the council should be formally deela.-ed a new one, wherein the
imperial ambassadors supported them, while Philip II. of Spain,
contrariwise, insisted that it should be declared a continuation of
the former synod. The legates strove to satisfy both parties, and
received contradictory directions from Rome, at first ordering them
to announce the continuation of the former council, and afterwards
leaving the matter to their discretion. So little agreement could
be arrived at that the twentieth session (Jane 4, 1562) was held
merely to prorogue the council The question of communion in
both kinds was the next to come up for consideration. It was
such a capital one, if any hope of winning back the Protestants
was to be entertained, that the imjierial and French ambassadors
tad special injunctions to forward by all means in their power an
afi raative decision. The Frenchmen saw little prospect of carry-
ing this matter in the temper of the Italian majority, and were for
opposing the discussion which the legates had announced, but
the imperial ambassadors were more hopeful, and persuaded them
to give way. While the question Was being debated in the con-
gregations, the Venetian and Bavarian ambassadors arrived, the
latter armed with a formidable schedule of complaints against pre-
valent abuses, and of demands for correspondingly drastic reforms,
beginning with the pope and the curia, and making havoc amongst
cardinals, dispensations, exemptions, pluralities, office-books, ex-
clusively Latin services, and other like matters, thus threatening
all manner of vested interests andf long-rooted cnstoms. The
550
TRENT
[council.
lemtea put them off, alksing the pressure of other business, notably
the question of communion in both kinds, which was, m '»«,
bein" discussed and decided in accordance with the views of the
Italians and Sijiniards, and against those of the Frencli and
Germans. In the twenty-first session (July 16, 1552) a decree
couclied in four dogmatic chapters and four cauons was promul-
gated upon it, to the following purport.— laymen, and pnests other
than the actual celebrant, are not bound by divine right to com-
municate in both kinds; the church has full power to ma^e what
chaiK'esit pleases in the mode of administering sacraments; the
whole sacrament of the Eucharist is received entire under either
kind singly; and little children are not bound to communicate.
The canons pronounce anathemas against raaintainers of the con-
trary propositions. At the same time a decree upon reformation
was'enacted, most of the clauses deaUcg with the duties of bishops
to the matters of ordination, patronage, division, and union ol
benefices, discipline of ineffective parish priests, and visitation ol
monasteries, but a more permanent interest attaches to the ninth
and concluding chapter of the decree, whereby the name and othce
of tlie "questors of alms," that is to say, the vendors of indulg-
ences, are aboUshed on the. ground of the impossibUity of otber-
B-ise putting a stop to the abuses and depravity of their proceedings.
All nrivilegcs and customs to the contrary, even if of time im-
memorial, are rescinded ; the publication of indulgences is confined
thenceforth to the ordinaries of each place, assisted by two members
of the chapter; and these same ofBcers are directed to collect the
ilms and charitable donations of the people, but forbidden to
receive any commission or payment for so doing. This decree is a
virtual confession of the justice of tjie agitation against Tetzel and
his fellows which served as the signal for beginning the great
religious strife of the 16th century ; and it is noticeable that it was
the°pope"s own voice against the system which decided the action
of the council, wherein a powerful minority was found to defend
it. Several weighty matters then came before the congregations,
that of residence again being pressed by the Spaniards, wbUe the
imperial and Bavarian ambassadors renewed their requisition for
permissive communion in both kinds (for the decree on that_ subject
had "one no further than to declare it unnecessary, and had not
explicitly forbidden it), and the French ambassador not only sup-
ported them in their demand, but added on his own part that in
France they desired vernacular services, the abolition of image-
worship, and permission for the clergy to marry. The nuncio
Visconti wrote to the pope in great alarm, expressing apprehensions
at th» very free language employed by the Tathers of the council
on these matter.s. the probability of their conceding the emperors
demands, and of similar ones being advanced thereupon, all making
in the same direction. An intrigue to compel the resignation ot
Cardinal Gonzaga, who was not thought sufficiently opposed to those
measures, and who was far less peremptory in his presidency o!
the council and use of the closure than Crescenzio had been, was
set on foot, and defeated only by the strong representations made
at Rome by the archbishop of Lanciano, who said that there was
already so much division in the council that it could but just ho.U
to>-cther and would almost certainly be broken up by any step ol
the kind. The next subject which was brought on for considera-
tion was the sacrifice of the Mass, and the debates thereon were
very animated, disclosing considerable variety of opinion amongst
the theologians, -no fewer than five clearly distinct views of the
tenet apart from mere verbal or minor differences, being adduceJ
and argued for. As sixty French bishops, to be accompanied by
twelve theologians, and headed by Charles de Guise, cardinal of
Lorraine, wer? under orders to repair to Trent, the French arabas.
sador pressed the legates to postpone the next session t''' t'":'^
arrival, as De I'lsle, ambassador at Rome, did the pope ; but each
replied evasively, referring the applicant to the other. liie
ouestion of communion in both kinds was also very warmly dis-
cussed, and the council was warned that a negative decision won d
lead to the secession of multitudes who had not yet broken w'lth
the Roman Church ; but tlie Jesuit Laynez, who was the chief
advocate for refusal, replied that to diminish the church would not
destroy it, and that anything was better than concession in the
matter The numbers in the division taken on the question were
as follows:— 2D were in favour of granting communion in both
kinds ; 31 agreed thereto, but desired the execution of the decree
to be left to the pope's discretion : 38 were for total refusal ; U
strove to evade responsibility by referring the matter to the pope
entirely: 19 were willing to make the concession to the Bohemians
and Hungarians, but would refu« it to all others; H asked for a
postponement; and U remained neutral declining to vote any
way-being a total of 166 .suffrages, so split up as to make it im-
practicable to frame a decree. In this difficulty the legate seized
the opportunity of persuading the council to refer the matter to
the liopc's decision, thereby at once checkmating the reform mg
section and indirectly ruling the vexed point of the relatiic
superiority of pope and council in favour of the former and so
virtually reversing those decrees of Constance and Base whicli had
long been thorns in the side of the Roman curia. In point ol
fact, t'-». pope had written some time before to t^e legates worn-
mendii^g^hL to yield to the emperor's demand of ^^e chalice for
To laity, but the/ had replied that it would be impo itic to make
Ua cone liar act, and that it would be more expedient o frame »
mere general declaration that it might be proper to X''!„ ^°X
cessiol in certain cases, but that the pope should be the so « Judge
of them. In the twenty-second session (September 17, 1562) the
decree on the sacrifice of the Mass was promulgated lu nine chapters
and as many canons, directed for the most part aS^'"^'/"™"*
Protestant objections to the doctrine and ceremonial of the Missal.
Rules to secure greater order and reverence in the celebration of
Mass and for the suppression of sundry superstitious observances
connected therewith, were also enacted, -besides some ""nor re-
forms of little note, and a decree referring to the pope the whole
question of the concession of the chalice. The meagreness anJ
insignificance of the reforms enacted thus tar caused much d.s-
picture in France, and the king directed his ambassador to l^ress
ince more for delay till the arrival of the French, German, and
Polish bishops who were expected at Trent, as the emperor also
instructed his envoy But the pope was busy in Tecruiti:!g the
Italian majority, and was unfavourable to this request, est the
Italians should be outvoted by the new-comers; yet so contentious
were the debates on the sacrament of orders, and on the natureand ex-
tent of the rights of bishops-notably whether they were inherently
above priest! and whether they were necessaiily subject to the
pope, deriving their jurisdiction and other powers so ely through
Lle^tion from him, or if they were not of Divine institution, and
h Colleagues rather than his deputies (which Latter thesis was
steadily n°aintained by the Spaniards)-that it proved .mpossible
to frame the decrees and hold the session before the arrival of the
cardinal of Lorraine, who reached Trent on November 13 562.
accompanied by fourteen bishops, three abbots and eighteen Iheo-
lo"ians The discussions, further complicated with the question
of°residence. were renewed hereupon, and Ion- b<=f7?f"y J'f"^,"'
agreement were visible the French ambassadors laid before the
le°<'ate* a schedule of reform in thirtj'-tour articles, requiring, not
only the removal of various abuses in patronage and the punish-
ment of negligence on the part of the P^roch-al a"-! .™°"^t'=
clergy but TlsS that vernacular services should be permitted, and
comminion in both kinds enjoined, while all abuses and supersti-
tions connected with image-worsliip. indulgences, pilgrimages and
relics should be summanly abolished. Lorraine on being asked
how far he agreed with these demands, said that he 4>P_PPf»"d o
some of them, but that if he had not eonsen ed to take <=' mrge M
them in their actual form, they would have been ^^f'J'-^^;^'''^^
drastic No definite action was taken upon them cither at Irent
0 M Rome, and the proceedings dragged on ineffectively for some
months longer. On March 2, 1563, Cardinal Gonzaga, first legate,
S cl and was speedily followed by Cardinal Ser.panda The
imoerial and French ambassadors endeavoured to ge the ca^dina
of Lorraine named as first legate and president but he was not
acceptable at Rome, and the post was given to Cardmal Morone
with whom Cardinal Navagero was associated, to fill the place of
S p^ndo All these events delayed the twenty third session
untirjulv 15 1563, nearly ten months later than the preceding
o e A decVoe on the sacrament of orders in four cl^F'f^ »"J
e 4t canons laid down that there is a saciificial priesthood of the
Nev-re5tan;n instituted by Christ; that there have been seven
orUrs ill ?he Christian ministry from the ear ies. '•-^ ;.«^^^^J>°'/„
order i= a sacrament ; tl-.at orders are indelible ; that bishops are
sunerio ■ io priests ; that a call from the laity, or from any secular
aulhori y is^unnec^ssary as a title to ordination, and I't't ^ m"^y
Uy call is invalid, while bishops appointed solely by the pope,
wfthou he intervention of any other persons, are validly created^
A decree of er-hteen chapters on reformation, enacting, rfmongsl
much ek» pen^alties for non-residence on the part of beneficiaries
Td providing for the erection of those theological seminaries which
■have'^ever sifco been the nurseries of the Latm fl"gy- wa^ al»
r.romuVatcd in this session. The congregations which '» "?'•«'{, ''
werToccupied chiefly with the question of matrimony, which had
been moot'ed earlier.^ut with no definite result, and -tl> f""^' S
a scheme to repress the encroachments of the civil power upon the
church in most countries, one clause of which proposed to exempt
all eccksiXs from civ 1 jurisdiction in all cases whatever, and
?nrtte"p" •.",;[ of taxes, iith penalty of c-ommn,.,cat,on upon
such civil authorities as contravened this ruling. This »»s "-.exer
pushed 0 the stage of promulgation, but -t.^^f, f •"«'",' ^^
Manifestation agafnst the reforming P" V '" '' V^hT/' "-Iged
actually drove tho French ambassadors away, since tnc> JW'S""
hlir farther Ve^ence useless in such a temper o the as«.mWy.
Yef it was itself bv no means agreed or h.irnionious. i he oia ais
pute alout the cbim of the c?uncil to represent the « "m-
vcrS about the proposing clause, limiting t^ie initiat/ve .o the
e"S ;, and about^l^e need of refom. in the Ron>.an cum .t^ f
were renewed, and that with much acrimony, ^"1 wul. no prac
tical result In the twenty-fourth session (November 11, 1563) a
decree on matrimony, couched in ten chapters and eleven canons
COCXCIL.]
TRENT
551
<ras promulgated, the most noticeable points of vrbich are the
&&5ertioQ that the church can constitute otlicr impediments to
matrimon)- besides the forbidden degrees of the Lcvitical code, and
can dispense with such imptdiironts . that clerks in holy orders
and regulars vowed to celibacy cannot contract valid marriage ;
and that celibacy is superior to matrimony. The simultaneous
Jecrte on reformation lays down rules for the creation of bishops
and cardinals, so as to avoid unlit promotions ; directs that
diocesan synods shall be held yearly, and provincial synods tricn-
oially ; lays down rules for episcopal visitations, and for the quali-
fications to be exacted of persons promoted to cathedral dignities
And canonries , appoints the provincial synod the judge of minor
causes against bishops, referring graver causes to the poiie's de-
cision , and enacts various other technical reflations. By this
time all concerned were thoroughly weary of trie council, .lud the
remaining matters for discussion were hurriedly discussed, result-
ing, in the twenty-fifth and last session (December 3 and 4, 1563),
in a decree, very cautiously worded, upon purgatory, the cullus of
saints, and that of relics and images. In this same session was
4lso enacted a decree in twenty-two chapters, regulating several
matters affecting the discipline of convents of monks and nuns ;
tnd another decree on reformation, in twenty-one chapters, the
most important of which enjoin all cardinals and bishops to keep
modest households, and not to enrich their kindred with church
property ; that all prelates shall receive and publish the decrees of
the council ; that duelling shall be prohibited under severe penal-
ties ; and that the authority of the Holy Sec both is, an is to be
understood to be, untouched by any decrees of the council touch-
ing the reform of morals and di^iplino. On tlie last day of the
session was passed a somewhat indefinite decree upon indulgences,
forbidding all evil gains connected therewith, and directing that,
wherever abuses or superstitions are prevalent concerning them,
the bishops shall collect the facts, lay them before the provincial
synod, and after discussion there refer them to the pope for ulti-
mate decision. The distinction of meats, and the due obsen-auce
of festivals and fastS; were also enjoined ; and a formal statement
was made that the committees which had been engaged upon the
index of prohibited books, on the draft of a catechism, and on the
revision of the Missal and Breviary, thinking that the synod could
not deal with them conveniently, had determined to lay their
reports before the pope to ratify and publish at his pleasure.
Formal acclamations, and an anathema against all heretics, closed
the session ; and the legates, after forbidding any bishop, under
pain of excommunication, to leave Trent till be had either signed
nis assent to the decrees, or left documentary proof of such assent,
gave the blessing and dissolved the assembly.
Two hundred and fifty-five signatures were attached to
the decrees, and also those of the ambassadors still remain-
ing at Trent The bull of confirmation was issued at
Rome on January 26, loSi, and followed by another fixing
May 1, 1564, as the date from which the decrees should be
held binding. The bull of confirmation forbade all persons
whatsoever, whether ecclesiastics or laymen, to gloss or
interpret the decrees upon any pretext whatever, without
papal authority for the purpose. The republic of Venice
was the first power to signify its reception of the decrees,
followed speedily by the other Italian states (except Naples)
and by Portugal ; but the king of Spain, though receiving
the decrees, issued them at first in his own name, and not
in that of the pope ; the emperor and the king of Bohemia
demanded the lay use of the chalice and the marriage of
priests as the terms on which they would accept the
council, and obtained a partial concession of the former
demand, but were refused the latter ; and in France, while
the dogmatic decrees were accepted, the disciplinary ones
were not, and have never, in spite of efforts many times
renewed, made part of French ecclesiastical law. The pro-
vision referring the explanation of the council to the pope
was given shape by Si.xtus V., who erected in 1588 a Con-
gregation of the Council of Trent to sit permanently at
Rome, where it has ever since continued to be included
amongst those standing committees which divide among
them the administration of the pontifical government.
Two questions remain to be considered in relation to this
great synod ; — how far was it free, and representative of
the mild of Latin Christianity at that time? and what have
been its effects upon dogma and discipline 1 Ample
materials exist for answering the first question, in the form
of contemporary letters, either separately published, as
those of Vargas, or included in the great collection of
documents made by Le Piat, and in the oflScial acts of the
council itself, drawn up by the secretaries Paleotto and
Massarelli. From these it is perfectly clear that the
council was never free for a moment, but was hampered
and fettered, not merely by the permanent fact of a large
Italian majority, subsidized by the pope,' but by the
method of procedure in the congregations, since by a
skilful distribution of the members into groups or classes,
so as to prevent combined action, and by careful packing
of the sub-committees to which the preparation of business
for debate was entrusted, little could be done save' when
and how the majority pleased ; and, above all, the vigilant
supervision exercised by the legates, their constant refer-
ence to Rome of every point of any importance before they
would permit it to come on for regular discussion (so that
Lanssac, one of the French envoys, somewhat profanely
said that the Holy Spirit was brought to the council in a
carpet-bag from Rome), and their uncompromising use of
their presidential authority to interrupt or silence un-
acceptable speakers (as frequently appears in the Acts)
effectually boilnd the council hand and foot ; and thus its
decisions, as a whole, represent little more than the Italian
and, to some extent, Spanish opinions of the time, and not
those of German, French, or Hungarian Catholics. The
demeanour of the legates differed much, and there is a
wide interval between the open browbeating employed by
Crescenzio and the high-bred dignity of Gonzaga or the
diplomatic subtlety of Morone ; but the policy was alike
in all cases, and its results the same. As to the dogmatic
effect of the council, it went much 'further th^n merely
restating the current Catholic theology of the pre-
Reformation era ; for it marks a new departure, closing
many questions previously left open (nothing is more
noteworthy in the debates than the manner in which
several divines of unquestioned ability and loyalty delivered
themselves of opinions closely allied to those advocated by
leading Reformers, and then still tenable within the Roman
obedience), re-wording old propositions, or framing new
ones, in an incisive fashion. It recovered for papal
authority all it had lost, or was likely to lose, through the
action of Basel and Constance ; and, above all, it unified
Roman teaching for the first time, and crystallized it into
rigid compactness. Thus it made concessions and explana-
tions for the reconciliation of the revolted Protestants,
although the primary cause of the council, practically im-
possible thenceforward, since the Roman Catholic system,
thus hastily consolidated out of a former condition of
partial flux, became like a '• Prince Rupert's drop," from
which, if the smallest fragment be broken, the mass is at
once resolved into disintegrated powder. In the matter of
disciplinary reform the council enacted but little of an
effective nature, except in the abolition of the traffic in
indulgences, and the establishment of theological seminaries,
which has proved the most effectual agency for creating
that doctrinal uniformity which now prevails throughout
the Roman obedience ; and the real honours of the Counter-
Reformation rest with the Jesuits, to whose unremitting
diligence, powerful organization, and ceaseless precept and
example must be attributed by far the larger part of the
abatement of ecclesiastical abuses and scandals which
marks the succeeding era. Doubtless, the Tridentine
decrees, in strong and resolute hands, proved most useful
subsidiary weapons to compel local reforms ; but decrees
of little less stringency had been enacted by previous
' The Italian character of the council of Trent can best be exhibited
by a classified table, showing the nationality of the bishops present in
the later sessions: — Italians, 1S9 ; Spaniards, 31 ; French, 26 ; Greeks
(titulars), 6; Portugfuese, 3; IlI>Tians, 3; Irish, 3; Germacs. 2:
Flemish, 2 ; Polish, 2 ; Croatian, 1 ; .Moravian, 1 ; English, 1.
552
T R E — T R E
synods, and had rusted unused, because there was no one
able and willing to put them in operation against the
passive resistance of powerful vested interests.
The bibllopsphy of the council of Ti ent is very extensive, but a comparatively
•inall nuraber of volLmes really suffices the stutlcot. The lirst work of Import-
ance Is F. Paolo Sai-pl's /storia dtl Concilia Tnder.ciiw. originally published in
LundOD(1619)by Antonio de Dominis, aichbishop o{ Spalato. undei'the pseudonym
■if Pietro Soave Polano (an impel feet anagram of Paolo Sarpl Veneto). but
t)€tt9r stndfed in the French version by Pftre Le Courayer, with valuable notes
(See Sarpi). The rival work of Sforza Palavicino, htoria del Coneitio di Trento
m>5i>-57), written to oider as a refutation of Sarpl's woik. Is also indispensable.
He hud free access to many official documents wliicli Sarpi could not consult, and
Dflen conecta Idm upon points of detail, but a careful reader will find that he
confinns hmi far oftener than he refutes him. It Is not eiiougli. as Ranke points
out, to compare tiiose two. and take the mean statement as a guide, for they are
uometiraes in blank contradiction, and other witnesses must be called In to decide
Che matter. The Acts of the council, so fjr as they were drafted by Paleotto.
were fii-st piililished by Mendham in 1842; the cooiplete Acts, by both Paleotto
and Massarelli, were not accessible till published as Ada Genmna (Ecumenici
Coiicilii Tndentini by Tlieiner in 1874 The vast compil.Ttlon of Jodociis Le Plat.
Uoniamntorum ad Historiam ConHtti Tridevtini Ampjtsstma Colleclto (7 vols
4to, I78I-S7), Is full, of valuable and inteiesiing mniter. The spt-eches of the
Jesuit Laynez, which had such a powerful effect upon the council, have been
recently published under the title of Lainez, Disjmlaltones Trtdnuwiv, 2 vols.,
18S6. Varcas. Letlres el ifeinoires concemaTit le Coiicile de Trent (1700, paitly
translated In Geddes, T/ie Council of Trent no Free Assembly, 1714). is of much
value. The canons and decrees of the council have been many times published,
and are readily accessible; the best edition fs that by Richter and Scliulte (1853)
There Is a convenient abildgraent of Palavicino's history prefixed to the Fev.
James Waterwoith's English version of the Decrees and Canons of Trent (1848),
hut It Is not trustwortliy, for the translator has suppressed many statements of
tlie original which tell In various ways against the freedom of the action of the
council. To these may be added Slckel,^^i^■te«stKr4e tur Oeschidile des Komils
tu Trient, 1872; Caleilzio, Documenti Inediti e JVuooi Lavori Letterarii sul Con-
rilio di Trento, 1874; Ddliinger. Samuilung von Urkunden zur Oeschichtc des
Concils ron Trient, 1876; and the aitlcle on the council id Wetzer and Weltes
KircIiaUejriccn. (R, F L )
TRENTON, a city of the United States, county seat of
Mercer county, New Jersey, and capital of the State, is
situated in 40° 14' N. lat. and 74° 45' W. long., 33 miles
north-east of Philadelphia and 57 south-west of New York.
It lies very near sea-level (under 45 feet), upon the left
(eastero) bank of the Delaware river, at the head of navi-
gation. The city is irregularly built, the streets of different
eections running in various directions, without any appear-
ance of system ; this is doubtless due to the fact that
different portions of the city were originally settled as
independent villages. Till recently Trenton was rather
backward in the matter of municipal improvements, but
an extensive system of paving and sewage has now been
entered on. The water supply is obtained by pumping
into a reservoir. Street cars run upon one or two of the
principal streets; and the city is traversed by the main
line of the New York division of the Pennsylvania Rail-
road. Manufactures are the leading industry, the capital
invested in 1830 having been §6,966,830 and the produc-
tion $12,712,762. In iron and steel manufactures over
$2,000,000 were invested, the industry next in importance
being the manufacture of stone and earthen ware, for which
this city has a national reputation. Rubber goods, watches,
and woollen Vloths are also made. The population, 22,874
in 1870, was 29,910 in 1880.
Trenton wis formed by a consolidation under one charter of
several independent villages, known as Falls of the Delaware
(settled In 1680), Kingsborough, Bloonisburg, and Lamberton.
The name Trenton was given to the settlements about 1720. Its
early growth was slow. In 1790 it was selected as the Sute
capital, and two years later it received a city charter. Its growth
eince that time has been steady, and during the past thirty years
has been very rapid.
TREPANG. See BfiCHE-DE-MEE.
TRESPASS, in law, is any transgression of the law less
than treason, felony, or misprision of either. The term
includes a great variety of torts committed to land, goods,
or person, distinguished generally by names drawn from
the writs once used as appropriate to the particular trans-
gression, such as vi et armis, quare claitsum /regit, de bonis
asportatis, de uxore abducta cum bonis viri, quare Jilium
et heredcm rapuit, &c. Up to 1694 the trespasser was
regarded, nominally at any rate, as a criminal, and was
liable to a fine for the breach of the peace, commuted for
a small sum of money, for which 5 W. antl M. c. 12 sub-
stituted a fee of 6s. 8d. recoverable as costs against the
defendant. Trespass is not now criminal except by special
statutory enactment, e.g., the old statutes against forcible-
entry, the Game Acts, and the private Acts of many rail-
way companies. When, however, trespass is carried suffi-
ciently far it may become criminal, and be prosecuted as
assault if to the person, as nuisance if to the land. At
one time an important distinction was drawn between
trespass general and trespass special or trespass on the
case, for which see Tort. The difference between trespass
and case was sometimes a very narrow one ; the general
rule was that where the injury was directly caused by the
act of the defendant the proper remedy was trespass,
where indirectly, case. The difference is illustrated by the
action for false imprisonment : if the defendant himself
imprisoned the plaintiff the action was trespass ; if a
third person did so on the information of the defendan*
it was case. A close parallel is found in Roman law in
the actio directa under the lex Aquilia for injury t^used
directly, the ar.tio viilis for that caused indirectly. One
of the reasons for the rapid extension of the action on the
case, especially that form of it called assumpsit, was no
doubt the fact that in the action on the case the defendant
was not allowed to wage his law (see Wager).
In its more restricted sense, trespass is generally used
for entry on land without lawful authority by either a
man, his servants, or his cattle. To maintain an action
for such trespass the plaintiff must have possession of the
premises. The quantum of possession necessary to enable
him to bring the action is often 6, question difficult to
decide. In most instances the tenant can bring trespass,
the reversioner only case. By the Judicature Act, 1873,
a mortgagor in possession can sue for trespass in his own
name Remedies for trespass are either judicial or extra-
judicial. The most minute invasion of private right is
trespass, though Ihe damages may be nominal if the
injury was trivial. Ou the other hand, they may be
exemplary if circumstanees of aggravation were present.
Pleading in the old action of trespass was of a very tech-
nical nature, but the old-fashioned terms alia enormia,
replication de injuria, new assignment, &c., once of such
frequent occurrence in the reports, are of merely historical
interest since the introduction of a simpler system of
pleading, unless in those American States where the old
pleading has not been reformed. The Venue (q.v.) in
trespass was formerly local, in case transitory In addi-
tion to damages for trespass, an injunction may be granted
by the court. The power to grant injunctions against
threatened or apprehended trespass has been considerably
enlarged by the Judicature Act. 1873. The principal
instances of extra-judicial remedies are distress damage
feasant of cattle trespassing, and removal of a trespasser
without unnecessary violence, expressed in the terms of
Latin pleading by molliier manus imposu\t.
Trespass may be justified by exercise of a legal right, as to serve
the process of the law, or by invitation or licence of the owner, or
may be excused by accident or inevitable necessity, as deviation
from a highway out of repair. Where a man abuses an authority
given by the law, his wrongful act relates back to his entry, and
he becomes a trespasser ab initio, that is, liable to be treated as a
trespasser for the whole time of his being on the land. Mere
breach of contract, such as refusal to pay for wine in a tavera
which a person has lawfully entered, does not constitute him a
trespasser ab initio. A trespass of a permanent nature is called a
continuing trespass; such would be the permitting of one's cattle
to feed on another's land witliout authoiity
In Scots law trespass is used only for torts to land. By the
Trespass (Scotland) Act, 1865, trespassers are liable on summary
conviction to line and imprisonment for encamping, lighting fires,
&c., on land without the consent and permission of the owner.
TREVES (French, Treves; Geiman, Tner), formerly
the capita! of an archbishopric and spiritual electorate of
the empire, and now the seat of a Roman Catholic bishop
and the chief town of a governmental district in the
Prussian province of the Rhine, is situated on the right
T R E — T R E
553
hank of iba ifoselle, pleasantly surrounded by low vine-
clad hills, -60 miles south-west of Coblentz and S6 miles
south of Cologne. It lies in the midst of a carefully
cuhiTated and fertile plain, the rich vegetation of which
forms a pleasing setting to its red sandstone walla and
veneraHe towers. Most of the old streets of the town are
<juaint and irregular ; but much of the space enclosed
within the circuits of the walls is now occupied by
orchards and gardens. The population of Treves in 1885
was 26,125, five-sixths of whom were Roman Catholics.
Their chief occupations are fruit-growing and vine-dressing ;
the industries of the place, including the manufacture of •
cotton and linen, dyeing, and tanning, are not very exten-
sive. A specialty of Treves is the preparation of stones
for Gfothic churches, which are sent off ready to be at once
placed in position. A river traffic is carried on in wine,
cattle, and wood.
Treves claims to be the oldest town m Germany, and it contains
more important Roman remains than any other place in northern
Europe. The most remarkable of these is the Porta Nigi-a, a huge
fortified gateway, 115 feet long, 70 to 95 feet high, and 30 feet
deep. It is formed of uncemented blocks of sandstone, held
together by claLtps of iron, and now blackened with time ; the
details ace very rude. Opinions vary widely as to the date of its
erection, bat recent authorities refer it to the 1st century of the
Christian era. Doric 5 the Middle Ages the structure was converted
into two churches, one above the other ; all additions have, how-
ever, now been removed, except the apse at the east end. The
badlica, long used as the archiepiscopal palace and now consecrated
as a Protestant chnreh, probably dates com the reign of Constan-
tice. The so-called Roman baths are in all probability the relics
of an extensive imperial palace. Just outside the town are the
remains of an amphitheatre, capable of accommodating 30,000
spectators, where Constantine caused several thousand Franks and
Bructeri to be butchered for the public amusement. Perhaps the
oldest Roman remains in Treves are some of the piera of the bridge
over the Moselle, dating from about 28 B.C. This bridge, which
is at one comer of modem Treves, lay near the middle of the much
more extensive Roman city. There are also numerous Roman
antiquitiea in the neighbourhood of Treves, the most important of
which, are the Igel column, a sepulchral monument of the 2d
century, and the mo«aic pavements at Xecnig and Fliessem.
Another group of interesting buildings belongs to the second
period of prosperity enjoyed by Treves under the rule of its mediseval
prelates. The cathedral, described by Labke as the most important
example of pre-Carlovingian building in Germany, mirrors the
entire history of the town. Its kernel consists of part of a Roman
basilica of the 4th csntory, which seems to have been converted
into a Christian church at a very early period. It was restored by
Bishop Xicetius about 550, and in the 11th and 12th centuries it
was again restored and greatly extended by Archbishop Poppo and
hb successors, who added an apse at each end and left it substanti-
iUy in its present form. The cathedral is connected by beautiful
cloisters of the 13th century with the circular Liebtrauenkirche,
one of the most interesting early Gothic churches in Germany
11227-43), catching up the architectural thread at the point dropped
by the cathedral Among the treasures of the latter is the " holy
Mat of Treves," believed by the devout to be the seamless garment
worn by our-Saviour at the crucifixion, and said to have been pre-
sented to the town by the empress Helena, the central figure in
Treveran Christian legend. Its exhibition in 1844 attracted a
aiUlion and- a half of pilgrims to Trcvea According to recent
authorities, -the earliest churches in Treves were those of Sts
Eucharius, Maximin, Matthew, and Paul, all without the walls,
now rebuilt or converted to secular purposes. Of the modem
buildings none call for special remark. The town library contains
about 100,090 volumes, including several valuable specimens of
early printing. Its greatest treasure is the Codex Aureiis, a
manuscript of the Gospels presented to the abbey of St Maximin
by Ada, sister of Charlemagne. The same building also contains
an interesting collection of Roman and mediwwal antiquities.
A raediseval legend, preserved in an inscription on the old Rothes
Haus inn, places the foundation of Treves 1300 years before that of
Rome, and ascribes it to Thebetas, son of Ninus, king of Assyria.
But, fable apart, we must sMU allow that Treves has good claim to
call itself the oldest town in Germany. It is a little doubtful
whether the Treviri were of Teutonic or Celtic stock. St Jerome
records that the language of the Treviri of the 4th century resembled
that of the Gauls of Asia ; but, even if we admit this evidence as
conclusive of their Celtic origin, we must recognize the fact that
they were Celts who were long under Teutonic influence. Their
(Btbentic history begins with the story of their subjection by Julias
Coesar (56 B,c.), who describes them as a warlike race, with the best
cavalry in Gaul. The Rom.in town, Colonia Auffu^ta Trevirorum
(or Trercroruyn), was probably founded by the emperor Claudius,and
rapidly obtained a wealth and importance which justified the poet
Ausoniu.s (4th centur)) in describing it as the second metropolis
of the empire, or " Kcrae beyond the Alps." It became the capital
of Belgica Prima, and during the 4'.h centur;.- was a favourite
residence of Constantine and other Roman emperors. Most of tho
palaces and public buildings, of which the remains are still
extant, were built at this period, while the surrounding hills were
covered with villas. Treves was laid in ruins by Attila in 451, and
about 465 was permanently taken possession of by the Franks. It
was included in the kingdom of Austrasia, and became a German
city in S70. Like its prototype Rome, it attained a second era of
prosperity and importance as an ecclesiastical capital (see below),
and in the Middle Ages the " Sancta Civitas Trevirorum " swarmed
with "religious" of all kinds and grades. Unlike most of the
German episcopal cities, however, it did not succeed in shaking
otf the ecclesiastical yoke, nor did it attain, except transitorily,
the position of a free imperial city. Wars and sieges occasionally
checked but did not stop its growth. Art and science were
sedulously fostered in the monastic schools, and a university,
founded in 1473, existed down to 1793. The importance of Treves
departed with the overthrow of the ecclesiastical principality. la
1786 the last elector shifted his residence to Coblentz, and from
1794 to 1814 Treves was capital of the French department of the
Sarre. Since the latter date it has belonged to Prussia.
The archbishopric and ecclesiastical electorate of Treves, bounded
by Nassau, Cologne, Luxemburg, Lorraine, the Rhenish Palatinate,
Hesse-P.heinfels, and Katzenelnbogen, had an area of about 3200
square miles and a population of 250,000 to 300,000. Its suffragan
bishops were those of Metz, Toul, and Verdun, and after 1777 also
those of is'ancy and St Die. As elector of the German empire the
archbishop took the second place, and borethestyleof arch-chancellor
of Gaul or Burgundy. Legend places the foundation of the bishopric
of Treves in the 1st century of the Christian era, but the tirst
bishop known to history is Agricius, who flourished about 314.
The see appears as an archbishopric in the 9th century, and in the
Middle Ages the archbishops attained considerable temporal power.
Among the most prominent were'Baldivin of Luxemburg (1307-
1354y, brother of the emperor Henry VII., who may be regarded
as the founder of the territorial greatness of the see, and Richard
von Greifienklau (1511-1531), who distinguished himself by his
successful opposition to the Reformation. The last archbishop was
Clemens Wenceslans (1 765-1802) of Saxony. The part of the
archbishopric on the left bank of the Rhine was taken by France in
1801, and the rest was secularized in favour of the prince of Nassau-
Weiibnrg in 1803. After the fall of Napoleon the archbishopric
was incorporated with Prussia. A new tishopric of Treves was
instituted in 1821, the boundaries of which are almost conterminous
with those of the old archbishopric ; the bishop is a sufiragan to
the archbishop of Cologne.
See "AogTista Treveronim," an article by E. A. Freeman in the Brituh
Quarterly tigview for July 1375.
TREVmANUS, Gottfried Reinhold (1776-1837),
German naturalist, was bom at Bremen, February 4, 1776,
studied medicine at Gottingen, in 1797 became professor
of mathematics in the Bremen lyceum, and died at Bremen,
February 16, 1837.
He jnade numerous important contributions to comparative
anatomy, especially in regard to birds and spiders^ Though noted
for his learning and acute observation, his studies in geographical
distribution cannot be said to have led to any very definite results.
It is rather on account of his contributions to aetiology that he de-
serves to be remembered, though his work in this department has
been to a great extent overlooked. In the first of his larger works.
Biologic oder Philosophie der lebcndcn Natur, which appeared from
1802-1805, he gave clear expression to the theory of "descent with
modification." He believed that simple forms (Protists), which he
termed "zoophytes." were "the primitive types from which all the
organisms of the higher classes had arisen by gradual development."
"Everj- living creature has a potentiality of endless modification
of adapring its structure to the changes in the external world."
He also maintained that each species has its day or period, at the
end of which it does not become extinct, but has simply ceased to
be, because it has become something else. That he stated the theory
of descent with much clearness, and with a sufficient background of
actual knowledge of forms, must be acknowledged by all ; the only
difficulty relates to the question of priority. The first volume of
his biology was published in 1802, but he states that this ha,! been
written about 1796. Now it was not till ISOl that Lamarck first
began to free himself from the traditional dogma of the immuta-
bility of species, and to publish his views of evolution. Neither
Goethe aor t)ken cati be said to have done much more th.in follow
up the ironical insinuations of Buffon (1753-76) and the ingenious
suggestions of Erasmus Darwin, whose Zoonomia was translated
xxiir. — 7o
554
T R E — T R E
into German between 1795 and 1797, while both Treviranua and
Lamarck tackled the problem not merely of the theory of descent
bat of the mechanism of evolution. On this point the merits of
Lamarck certainly outweigh those of his contemporary. Trcvir-
anus laid down as a fundamental proposition " that all living forms
are the results of physical influences which are still in operation,
and vary only in degree and direction." Like many after hira, he
directed attention to the influeuce of the male elemeuts in fertiliza-
tion as a Kource of variation, but laid emphasis orJy on the intra-
organismal power of adaptation to surroundings. Whatever opinion
ho entertained in regard to the priority and the importance of the
contribution made by Treviranus to the theory of evolution, it
19 at least certain that ho was a learned naturalist and an acute
thinker His most important later work of a synthetic nature
was entitled Erscheinungen und Oesclze des. organischen Lebens
(18S1X
See EvoLDTios; E. Haeckel's ScMpfungigeteMchie. pp. 8a-5; Caroa, Oeschichta
iter Zoolotjie, p 610
TREVISO, a town of Italy, in the province of the same
name, lies in the midst of a district of great fertility, at the
confluence of the Piavesella with the Sile, which is here
navigable for large boats and communicates by canals with
the lagoons of Venice (17 miles distant). It is an old town,
with narrow irregular colonnaded streets and some good
squares. The cathedral of San Pietro, dating from 1141
and restored and enlarged in the 15th century by Pietro
Lombardo, but still unfinished, contains a fine Annunciation
by Titian (1519), an Adoration of the Shepherds, the
masterpiece of Paris Bordone (born at Treviso in 1500),
and frescos by Pordenone. There are numerous statues and
reliefs by Pietro, TuUio, and Martino Lombardo, and by
Sansovino. The Gothic church of San Niccol6 (1310-52)
contains a fine tomb by Tullio Lombardo, frescos by
Giovanni Bellini, and a large altar-piece by Fra Marco
Pensabene and others ; in the adjoining chapter-house are
forty portraits of celebrated Dominicans by Tommaso da
Modena (1 352). The Monte di Pieti contains an Entomb-
ment by Pordenone (according to others by Giorgione).
The churches of S. Leonardo, S. Andrea, S. Maria
Maggiore, and S. Maria Maddalena also contain precious
art treasures, and the town is enriched besides by various
open-air frescos. The town-hall and theatre are also
conspicuous buildings. Silk and cotton goods, cutlery,
majolica, and paper are the chief manufactures of the
place, and an active trade is also carried on in corn, fruit,
and cattle. The population in 1881 was 31,249.
Treviso, the ancient Tarvisium, is not mentioned by any of the
ancient geographers, though Pliny speaks of the Silis as flowing
" ex montibus Tarvisanis. ' In the 6th century it appears as an
important place. From 1318 it was for a short time the seat of a
university (see Universities). In 1339 it came under the Venetian
sway In the 15th century its walls and ramparts were renewed
under the directioh of Fra Giocondo, two of the gates being built
by the Lombardi. Treviso was taken in 1797 by the French under
Jlortier (duke of Treviso). In March 1848 the Anstrian garrison was
driven from the town by the revolutionary party, but in the follow-
ing June the town was bombarded and compelled to capitulate-
TREVITHICK, Richard (1771-1833), inventor of the
locomotive, was descended from a family of great antiquity
in the county of Cornwall, and was born 13th April 1771,
in the parish of Illogan. Shortly afterwards the family re-
moved to Penponds, near Camborne, where the boy attended
bis first and only school, his attainments being limited to
reading, writing, and arithmetic. Though slow and obstin-
ate as a scholar, he spent much time dravring lines and
figures on his slate, and possessed such instinctive skill in
mechanics that while still a youth he was able to solve a
difficulty in the correction of underground levels which had
puzzled some of the mine agents. He inherited more than
the average strength for which his family were famous,
standing 6 feet 2 inches in height, while his frame was the
very model of an athlete. His feats in wrestling and lift-
ing and throwing weights were unexampled in the district
At the age of eighteen he began to assist his father as mine
manager, and, manifesting great fertility of mechanical in-
vention, was soon recognized as the great rival of Watt in
improvements on the steaai-engme (see vol. xxii. p. 476).
On the death of his father in 17 97, he succeeded him as
leading engineer in Cornish mining. He married the same
ye.ar. His earliest invention of importance was his improved
plunger pole pump (1797), which has superseded ail others
for deep mining. In 1798 he applied the principle of
the plunger pole pump to the construction of the water-
pressure engine, which he subsequently improved in various
ways. About this time he also perfected a high-pressure
mn-conducting steam-engine, which became a successful
rival of the low-pressure steam-vacuum engine of Watt.
At an early period he had begun experiments in the con-
struction of locomotives, and a model constructed by him
before 1800 is now in the South Kensington Museum. On
Christmas eve 1801 his common road locomotive carried
the first load of passengers ever conveyed by steam, and on
24th March 1802 he and Andrew Vivian applied for a
patent for steam-engines in propelling carriages. In 1803
his locomotive was run in the streets of London, from
Leather Lane by Gr ly's Inn Lane and along Oxford Street
to Paddington, the return journey being made by Islington.
The cost was, however, found too great, and his thoughts
were now directed to the construction of a steam loco-
motive for tramways, with such success that in February
1804 he worked a tramroad locomotive in Wales, running
with facility up and down inclines of 1 in 50. In 1808
he constructed a circular railway in London near Euston
Square, on which the public were carried at the rate of
twelve or fifteen miles an hour round curves of 50 or 100
feet radius. The ideas of Trevithick were successfully
developed by Stephenson so as to revolutionize the system
of modern travelling, but Trevithick had made consider-
able progress towards this before Stephenson had begun
his experiments. Trevithick applied his high-pressure
engine with great success to rock boring and breaking, as
well as to dredging. In 1806 he entered into a twenty-
one years' engagement with the board of Trinity House,
London, to lift ballast from the bottom of the Thames, at
the rate of 500,000 tons a year, for a payment of 6d- a
ton. The following year he was appointed along with
Vazie to execute the Thames driftway, but the work was
abandoned owing to disputes about payment when unex-
pected difficulties had occurred He then set up work-
shops at 72 Fore Street, Limehouse, for the construction of
iron tanks and buoys and model iron ships He was the
first to recognue the importance of iron in the construction
of large ships, and in various ways his ideas have also
influenced the construction of steamboats In the appli-
cation of steam to agriculture the name of Trevithick
occupies one of the chief places. A high-pressure steam
threshing engine was erected by him in 1812 at Trewithen,
the property of Sir Charles Hawkins, while, m the same
year, in a letter to the Board of Agriculture, he stated his
belief that every part of agriculture might be performed
by steam, and that such a use of the steam-engine would
"double the population of the kingdom and make onr
markets the cheapest in the world." In 1814 he entered
on an agreement for the construction of engines for the
Peruvian mines, and to superintend their working removed
to Peru in 1816. Thence he went in 1822 to Costa Rica.
He returned to England in 1827, and in 1828 petitioned
parliament for a reward for his inventions, but without
success. Ho was equally unsuccessful in his endeavours
to induce the lords commissioners of the Admiralty to
afford him facilities for demonstrating the value of certain
improvements he claimed to have made in steam navigation.
He died 22d April 1833.
SaelA/e qf Richard Trevithick, with an Account of hit Invcnticng,
hj Francis Trevithick. C.E.. 2 vols., 1872.
T R 1 — T R I
555
TRIAL, in law, is the examination of a cause before
ft court of justice. It is the stage in the cause next
after Pleabdjo (q.v.). Advance in legal development
is generally marked by difiference in the mode of trial.
This was especially the case in the history of Roman law,
and it has been the same in England (see Action). Many
farms of trial, notably those by Crdeal (q.v.), by wager
of battle or of law (see Wagee), and by grand assize, have
become obsolete, and new forms have been created by
legislation in order to meet altered circumstances of society.
Up to a very recent date the tendency of the Roman and
English systems was in opposite directions. In the former
and in systems founded on it, such as the Scotch, trial by
the judge became the rule, in the latter tnal by judge
%nd jury." But the Judicature and Summary Jurisdiction
Acts have recently made considerable mnovations upon the
old common-law right to trial by Juyly {q.v.) or per pais,
tks It was also called. The modes of trial in England are
very numerous, as to a certam extent each Coctrt {q.v.)
has its o'wn procedure. Certain broad rules of justice. are
observed by all courts, such as that both sides are to be
heard, or to have an opportunity of being heard, before
decision, and that (unless in very exceptional cases) the
trial is to be in public.
For purposes of convenience rather than as a scientific division
trials may be divided into civil and criminal. An ordinary trial
in a civil case may be either in a court of appellate jurisdiction (in
which case it is perhaps more properly called a hearing), in the
High Court of Justice before a judge or referee, or in an inferior
court Where the tnal is m a court of first instance, it may be
either with or without a jury. In Chancery and Admiralty pro-
ceedings a jury is not used, and the right to a jury in tho Queen's
Bench Division has been considerably restricted by the Rules of
the Supreme Court, 1883, Order xxrvi. Before these rules cither
party had an absolute right to have issues of fact in ~an action in
that division tried by jury. Now, unless in certain actions, mainly
of tort, in which a jnry is as of right, a jury can only be obtained
by application of a party to the action, subject to the power of the
coort to direct tnal without a jury of any issue fequiriBg prolonged
examination of documents or accounts or scientific or local investi-
eatioQ. The question of Ventje {q-v.) in civil actions has ceased to
be of importance since the Judicature Acts. Most courts are en-
titled in proper cases to the assistance of assessors. Trial with-
assessors is in frequent use in the Admiralty Division. A trial
whether by jury or not may be by affidavit or on viva voce evidence.
The latter is the rule where the trial is by jnry. In a county court
a jury of five is allowed in certain cases on application. In other
inferior courts of local jurisdiction a jury is sometimes the rule, as
in the (London) Lord Mayor's Court, sometimes not, as in the
Chancellor's Court at Oxford or Cambridge. In criminal cases the
trial is by jury, except where a court of Summary Jurisdiction
(j.c.) is empowered to try offences of a comparatively unimportant
nature. The right to tnal by due process of law before condemna.
tion IS secured to the subject by sec. 29 of Magna Charta. A new
tnal may be ordered in civil actions and in misdemeanours (in the
latter case only after conviction of the defendant) on various grounds,
the most usual of which are misdirection by the judge, improper ad-
mission or rejection of evidence, and the finding of a verdict against
the weight of evidence. In actions in the High Court new tiials
are less liberally granted than was the case before the Judicature
Acts, Order xxxix. considerably restricting the right. An applica-
tion for a new tnal of an action is no longer made by ex parte
motion in the first instance, as was the course before 1883, but
upon notice of motion. Besides the ordinary modes of trial, there
are others of an exceptional nature or of r*re occurrence. In a
trial by arbitration, the tribunal Ls chosen by the parties themselves,
and they are not entitled to object to the trial as conducted by the
arbitrator as long as it conforms to rules of ordinary justice. Peers
tre tried for treason or felony before the House of Lords, or the
court of the Lord High Steward if the trial takes place during the
recess of parliament. A trial at bar — a survival of the universal
mode of trial before the writ of Nisi Pbius (q.v.) was given by the
Statute of Westminster the Second— takes .place before three or
four judges of the Queen's Bench Division, and is in use as of right
where the crown is interested in the litigation, or at the discretion
of the court in other cases where questions of unusual importance
or difficulty are raised- The trial of a petition of right (see Petition,
vol xviiL p. 705) is now assimilated to that in civil actions. Trials
by record, oy certificate, and by inspection, though not expressly
abolished, appear to have become obsolete. Impeachment {q.v.)
is still s rignt of the House of Commons, bat has not recently been
exercised. Coubt-Martial (7. v. ) is the mode of trial for offences
committed by pei*sons in the naval or military service of the crown.
In Scotland and the United States trials are either with or with-
out a JU17. The most usual tnals in Scotland are those before a
judge of the Court of Session or the High Court of Justiciary or
in a shenfif court. In the United States trials ar« either in a United
States or a State court , in the latter case they arc regulated by
State legislation.
TRIBONIAN, the famous jurist and minister of Justi-
nian, was born in Pamphylia in the latter part of the 5th
century. Adopting the profession of an advocate, he
came to Constantinople and practised in the prefectural
courts there, reaching such eminence as to attract the
notice of the emperor Justinian, who appointed him in
528 one of the ten commissioners directed to prepare the
first Codex of imperial constitutions. In the edict creat-
ing this commissron (known as Hsc Qtue) Tribonian is
named sixth, and is called " virum magnificum, magisteria
digmtate inter agentes decoratum " (see Bxc Quss and
Summa Retpublicx, prefixed to the Codex). ^Tien the
commission of sixteen eminent lawyers was created in
530 for the far more laborious and difficult duty of com-
piling a collection of extracts from the writings of the great
jurists of the earlier empire, Tribonian was made presi-
dent and no doubt general director of this board. He had
already been raised to the office of quaestor, which at that
time was a sort of ministry of law and justice, its holder
being the assessor of the emperor and his organ for judi-
cial purposes, something like the English lord chancellor
of the later Middle Ages. The instructions given to these
sixteen commissioners may be found in the constitution
Deo Aitctore {Cod., i. 17, 1), and the methoa in which the
work was dealt with in the constitution Tanta {Cod., i. 17,
2), great praise being awarded to Tribonian, who is therein
called ex-quKstor and ex-consul, and also as magister offici-
orum. This last constitution was issued in December 533,
when the Digest was promulgated as a law-book. During
the progress of the work, in January 532, there broke
out in Constantinople a disturbance in the hippodrome,
which speedily turned to a terrible insurrection, that which
goes in history by the name of Nika, the watchword of
the insurgents. Tribonian was accused of having pros-
tituted his office for the purposes of gain, and the mob
searched for him to put bun to death (Procop., Per.?., L
24-26). Justinian, yielding for the moment, removed
him from office, and appointed a certain Basilides m his
place. After, the suppression of the insurrection the work
of codification was resumed. A little earlier than the
publication of the Digest, or Pandicts, there had been
published another but much smaller lawbook, the Iiisti-
tutes, prepared under Justinian's orders by Tribonian, with
Theophilus and Dorotheus, professors of law (see Preface
to Institutes). About the same time the emperor placed
Tribonian at the head of a fourth commission, consisting
of himself as chief and four others, — Dorotheus, professor
at Beyrut, and three practising advocates, who were directed
to revise and re-edit the first Codex of imperial constitu-
tions. The new Codex was published in November 534 (see
constitution Cordi ifobis prefixed to the Codex). With it
Tribonian's work of codification was completed. But he
remained Justinian's chief legal minister. He was re-
instated as qUiBstor some time after 534 (Procop., Pers., L
25 ;• Anecd., 20), and seems to have held the office as long
as he lived. He was evidently the prime mover in the
various changes effected in the law by the novels of Justi-
nian {NovelleR Constitutiones), which became_ much less
frequent and less important after death had reifioved the
great jurist. The date of his death has been variously
assigned to 545, 546, and 547. Procopius says {Aiucd,,
20) that, although he left a son and many grandchildren,
Justinian confiscated part of the inheritance.
556
T R I — T R I
The above facts, which are all thai we know about Tnbonian,
rest oa the authority of his contemporary Procopius and of the
various imperial constitutions already cited. There are, however,
two articles in the Lexicon of Saidas under the name "Tribonianos."
Tliey appear to be different articles, purporting to refer to different
persons, and have been generally so received by the editors of
Suidas and by modern legal historiana Some authorities, how-
ever, as for instance Gibbon, have supposed them to refer to the
same person. The first article is unquestionably meant for the
jurist It is based on Procopius. whose very words are to some
extent copied, and indeed it adds nothing to \vhat the latter tells
us. except the statement that Tribonian was the son of Macedunianus,
was awh oiKT)y6puv tQv i'irdpx<^^' , and was a heathen and atheist,
wholly averse to the Christian faith The second article says that
the Tribonian to whom it refers was of Side (in Pamphylia), was
also airb 5iKTjy6pu}u rujc vrdpxf^^t was a man of learning, and uTote
various books, among which are mentioned certain astronoraicil
treatises, a dialogue Oa Happiness, and two addresses to Justinian
None of these books relate to Jaw ; and the hotter opinion seems to
be that there were two Tribonians, apparently contemporaries,
though possibly some of the attributes of the jurist have been, by
a mistake of the compilers or transcribers of the Lexicon of Suidas,
extended to the man of letters of the same name.
The character which Procopius gives to the jurist, even if touched
by personal spite, is entitled to some credence, because it is con-
tained in the Histories and not in the scandalous and secret
Anecdota. It is as follows: — *' Tribonian was a man of great
natural powers, and had attained as high a culture as any one of
his time ; but he was greedy of money, capable of selling justice
for gain, and every day he repealed or enacted some law at the
instance of people who purchased this from him according to their
several needs. . . . He was pleasant in manner and generally agree-
able, and able by the abundance of his accomplishments to cast into
the shade his faults of avarice" {Pcrs , i. 24. 25). In the Anecdota
Procopius adds as an illustration of Justinian's vanity tne story
that he took in good faith an observation made to him by Tnbonian
while sitting as assessor, that he (Tribonian) greatly feared that
the emperor might some day, on account of his piety, be suddenly
carried up into heaven. ' This agrees with the character for flatleiT
which the minister seems to have enjoyed. The charge of heathenism
we find in Suidas is probable enough ; that is to say, Tribonian may
well have been a crypto-pagan, like many other eminent courtiers
and litterateurs of the time (including Procopius hira.self), a person
who, while professing Christianity, was at least iodiffeient to its
iiogmas and rites, cherishing a sentimental recollection of the older
and more glorious days cf the empire.
In modern times Tribonian has been, as the master workman of
Justinian's codification and legislation, charged with three oli'encfes,
— bad Latinity, a defective arrangement of the legal matter in the
Ca/t' and Digest, and a too free handling of the extracts from the
older jurists included in the latter compilation. The first of these
charges cannot be denied ; but it is hard to see why a lawyer of the
6th century, himself born in a Grcek-speaking part of the empire,
should be expected to write Latin as pure as that of the age of
Cicero, or even of the age of Gaius and the Antonines. To the
second charge also a plea of guilty must be entered. The Cod^
and Digest are badly arranged according to our notions of scientific
arrangement. These, however, are modern notions. The ancients
generally cared but little for what we call a philosophic distribu-
tion of topics, and Tribonian seems to have merely followed the
order of the Perpetual Edict which custom had already established,
and from which custom would perhaps have refused to permit him
to depart- He may more fairly be blamed for not having arranged
the extracts in each title of the Digest according to some rational
principle; for this would have been easy, and would have spared
much trouble to students and practitioners ever since As to the
third complaint, that the compilers of the Digest altered the ex-
tracts they collected, cutting our and inserting words and sentences
at their own pleasure, this was a process absolutely necessary ac-
cordmg to the instructions given them, which were to prepare a
compilation representing the existing law, and to be used for the
actual administration of justice in the tribunals. The so-called
Emblcmata (insertions) of Tnbonian were therefore indispensable,
though, of course, we cannot .-.ay whether they were alwavs made in
the best way. Upon the whole sul^ject of the codification and legis-
lation m which Tnbonian bore a part, sre Justinian
Tribonian, from the little we know of him. would seem to have
been a remarkable man. and ,n the front rank of the great ones of
h.« t.mr. There is nothing to show thnt he was a profound and
his time.
philosophical jurist, like P.mnian or Ulpian. But he was an
energetic clear-headed man. of great practical force and skill,-cul-
Inl? ?^/f rP''^*'"^* agreeable, flexible, possibly unscrupulous,
Tbo usual cntlcisma on TribonmD .uay be found lu the AM-Tra^mrtus
(1567) of Francis Hntman. Che aim of which Is shown by \xs attoroatlve title.
Hive discursui in quo juTi^rrutUntias Triboniantte Bterititas et Ugum jxttrioritm
excellentia eihibetvr , and ao answer to them m J P von Liidewig. Vtui Jut.
tiniani et Thecdorae, n£c ito'i Tribcnuitti (J BR.)
TRIBUNE (tnbunus) was a name assigned to officers
of several ditfereni descriptions in the constitution of
ancient Rome. The connexion of the word with tnbui,
"tribe," i.s obvious. The original tribunes were no doubt
the commanders of the several contingents of cavalry and
infantry which were supplied to the Roman army by the
early gentilician tribes, — the Ramnes, the Tities, and the
Luceres In the historical period the infantry in each
legion were commanded by six tribunes, and the number
six is probably to be traced to the doubling of the three
tribes by the incorporation of the new elements whiclf
received the names of Ramnes secundi, Tities secundi,
Luceres secundi. The tribuni celerum or commanders of
the cavalry no longer existed in the later times of the
republic, having died out with the decay of the genuine
Roman cavalry.' So long as the monarchy lasted these
tribunes were doubtless nominated by the commander-in-
chief, the king ; and the nomination passed over on the
establishment of the republic to his successors, the consuls.
But, as the army increased, the popular assembly insisted
on having a voice in the appointments, and from 362 B.C.
six tribunes were annually nominated by popular vote,
while in 31 1 the number was raised to sixteen, and in 207
to twenty-four, at which figure it remained. The tribunes
thus elected ranked as magistrates of the Roman people,
and were designated tribuni militum a populo, while those
who owed their office to the consuls bore the curious title
of tribuni ru/uli. The rights of the assembly passed on to
the emperors, and "the military tribunes of Augustus"
were still contrasted with those nominated in the camp by
the actual commanders. The obscure designation tribunus
aerarivs, "tribune of the treasury," had also, in all prob-
ability, a connexion with the early organization of 'the
army. The officer thus designated was at any rate the
paymaster of the troops, and the soldier who was defrauded
of his pay was allowed to exact it from this tribune by a
very summary process. There was still another and im-
portant class of tribunes who owed their existence to the
army. In the long struggle between the patrician and
plebeian sections of the population, the first distinctions
in the public service to which the plebeians forced their
way were military, and the contest for admission to the
consulate was in large part a contest for admission to the
supreme command of the national forces. In 445 B.C., the
year in which mixed marriages of patricians and plebeians
were for the first time permitted, power was given to the
senate (then wholly patrician) of determining from year
to year whether consuls or military tribunes with consular
authority (tribuni militares consulari potesiate or imperio)
should be appointed. But, even when the senate decided
in favour of electing tribunes, no election was valid without
the express sanction of the senate superadded to the "vote
of the centuriate assembly If it happened to be too in-
vidious for the senate openly to cancel the election, it was
possible for the patricians to obtain a decision from the
sacred authorities to the effect that some religious practice
had not been duly observed, and that in consequence the
appointment was invalid. According to tradition, recourse
was had to this device at the first election, a plebeian
having been successful. Forty-five years elapsed after the
creation of the officg before any plebeian was permitted to
fill it, and it was held by very few down to the time at
which it was abolished (367 B.C.) and the plebeians were
fully admitted to the consulate. The number of consular
* In the legends of the foundation of the republic Bnitus is repre*
.senTed as having exercised authority, when the king was baiiuliet^
merely by virtue of holding the office of tribunm celenaiu
TRIBUNE
557
tribunes elected on eacli occasion varied from three to six ;
there was no year without a patrician, and to the patrician
members were probably confined the most highly esteemed
duties, those relating to the administration of the law
and to religion.
But by far the most important tribunes who ever existed
in the Roman community were the tribunes of the com-
mons (iribuni plebis). These, as has been explained in
Rome (vol. xx. p. 736 sq.), were the most characteristic
outcome of the long struggle between the two orders, the
patrician and the plebeian. When in 494 B.C. the plebeian
legionaries met on the Sacred Mount and bound themselves
to stand by each other to the ■end, it was determined that
the plebeians should by themselves annually appoint ex-
ecutive officers t" stand over against the patrician officers,
— two tribunes (the very name commemorated the military
nature of the revolt) to confront the two consuls, and two
helpers called xdiles to balance the two patrician helpers,
the qnxstors. The name acdile is obviously connected with
xdes, "a temple," and is an indication of the fact that there
was a religious core to the insurrection, just as there was
a religious core to the patrician opposition. The temple of
Diana and Ceres on the Aventine Hill became for a time
to the plebeians what the temple of Saturn was to the
patricians, — their official centre and their record office.
The insurgent leaders also pressed religion into their
service in another way. The masses assembled on the
Sacred Mount bound themselves by a solemn oath to re-
gard the persons of their tribunes and xdiles as inviolable,
and to treat as forfeited to Diana and Ceres the lives and
property of those who offered them insult. That this
purely plebeian oath was the real ultimate basis of the
sanctity which attached to the tribunate during the whole
time of its existence can hardly be believed, though this
view has hadpowerful support both in ancient and in recent
times. The revolution must have ended in something
which was deemed by both the contending bodies to be a
binding compact, although the lapse of time has blotted'
out its terms. The historian Dionysius may have been
only technically wrong in supposing that peace was con-
cluded between the two parties by the fetial priests, with
the forms adopted by Rome in making treaties with a
foreign state. If this were fact, the "sacrosahctity" of the
tribunes would be adequately explained, because all such
formal foedera were "sacrosanct." But, notwithstanding
that the plebeians may safely be assumed to have been
conscious of having to a large extent sprung from another
race than the patricians and their retainers, it is not likely
that the feeling was sufficiently strong to permit of the
compact taking the form of a treaty between alien powers.
Yet there must have been a formal acceptance by the
patricians of the plebeian conditions ; and most probably
the oath which was first sworn by the insurgents was after-
wards taken by the whole community, and the "sacro-
sanctity" of the plebeian officials became a part of the
constitution. There must also have been some constitu-
tional definition of the powers of the tribunes. These
rested at first on an extension of the power of veto which
the republic had introduced. Just as one consul could
annul an act or order of his colleague, so a tribune could
annul an act or order of a consul, or of any officer inferior
to him. There was no doubt a vague understanding that
only acts or orders which sinned against the just and
established practice of the constitution should be annulled,
and then only in cases affecting definite individuals. The
tribune was to give his help against illegality in concrete
instances. The cases which arose most commonly concerned
the administration of justice and the levying of troops.
Although the revolution of 494 gave the tribunes a foot-
iiold in the constitution, it left them with no very definite
resources against breaches of compact by the patricians.
The traditional history of the tribunate from 494 to 451
B.C. is obscure, and, so far as details are concerned, nearly
worthless ; but there is a thread running through it which
may well he truth. We hear of attacks by patricians on
the newly won privileges, even of the assassination of a
tribune, and of attempts on the part of the plebeians
to bring patrician offenders to justice. The assembled
plebeians attempt to set up a criminal jurisdiction for
their own assembly parallel to that practised by the older
centuriate assembly, in which the nobles possess a pre-
ponderating influence. Nay, more, the plebs attempts
something like legislation ; it passes resolutions which it
hopes to force the patrician body to accept as valid. As
to details, only a few are worth notice. In the first place,
the number of tribunes is raised to ten, how we do not
know ; but apparently somt-, constitutional recognition of
the increase is obtained. Then an alteration is made in
the mode of election. As to the original mode, the ancient
authorities are hopelessly at variance. Some of them
gravely assert that the appointment lay with the assembly
of the curix — the most ancient and certainly the most
patrician in Rome, even if we allow the view, which, in
spite of great names, is more than doubtful — that the
plebeians were members of it at any time when it -still
possessed political importance. The opinioft of Mommsen
about the method of election is more plausible than the
others. It was in accordance with the Roman spirit of
order that the tribunes, in summoning their assemblies,
should not ask the plebeians to come en masse as individuals,
and vote by heads, but should organize their supporters in
bands. The curia was certainly a territorial district, and
the tribunes may have originally used it as the basis of
their organization. If tribunes were elected by plebeians
massed curiatim, such a meeting would easily be mistaken
in later times for the comilia curiata. At any rate, a
change was introduced in 471 by the Publilian Law of
Volero, which directed that the tribunes should be chosen
in an assembly organized on the basis of the Servian or
local tribe, instead of the cuna. This assembly was the
germ of the comitia tributa. The question by what authority
the Law of Volero was sanctioned is difficult to answer.
Possibly the law was a mere resolution of the plebeians
with which the patricians did not interfere, because they
did not consider that the mode of election was any concern
of theirs. In the first period of the tribunate the tribunes
almost certainly agitated to obtain for their supporters a
share in the benefits of the state domain. And, whatever
view may be taken of the movement which led to the
decemvirate, an important element in it was of a certainty
the agitation carried on by the tribunes for .the reduction
of the law of Rome to a written code. Until they obtained
this, it was impossible for them effectually to protect those
who appealed against harsh treatment by the consuls in
their capacity of judges.
During the decemvirate the tribunate was in abeyance. It was
called into life again by the revolution of 449, which gave the
tribunes a considerably stronger position. Their personal privi-
leges and those of the a;diles were renewed, while sacrosanctity was
attached to a body of men called judias decemviri, who seem to
have been the legal assistants of the tribunes. The road was opened
up to valid legislation by the tribunes through the assembly of the
tribes, but in this respect they were submitted to the control of the
senate. The growth of the influence of the tribe assembly over
legislation belongs rather to the history of the Co.m:tia (j.f.) than
to that of I he tribunate. After the Hortensian Law of 287 B.C. down
to the end of the republic nearly all the legislation of Rome was
in the Iiands of the tribunes, the details of the history of the
tribunate in its second period, from 449 to 367 B.C., are hardly less
obscure than those which belong to the earlier time. There was,
however, on the whole, undoubtedly an advance in dignity and
importance. Gradually a right was acquired of watching and inter-
fering with the proceedings of the senate, aod even with legislation.
558
TRIBUNE
Whether the absohite right of veto had ^''',.^yZi.^!'''^^^l
may well be doubted. But the onginal aiunjmm or r.ght of pro
Acting individuals, was, during th.s penod, ^J^'^^'f'^StJJll
remarkable expansion. From forb.ddmg a smgle act of a magis-
trate in relation to a single person,- the tribunes adv.inccd to for-
bWding by anticipation^ll acts of a certain class, whoever the
^rsonf affected b? them might prove to be. It therefm-e bc^une
iseless for the senate or the-oomitia to pass ordmance» >f ^ t"bune
wM ready to forbid the magistrates to carry them out. Ultimately
Thtml^J Announcement o? such an intention by - tnbune «^s
sufficient to cause the obnoxious project to drop : that = to ^f. ''>^
tribunes acauired a right to stop all business both >" 'he ^ehbcra^
live assemWy, the senate, and in the legislative assemble... the
ImUia. ThV technical name for this right of ^e o is «to_c«.».
To what extent the tribunes during the time from 449 to 367 took
part in criminal prosecutions is matter of doubt. The XI L 1 ab e»
Ld settled that, offenders could only be punished in person b> the
centuries, but tradition speaks of prosecutions by tnbunes before
the tribes where the penalty sought was pecuniary. The two main
objects of the tribune^ how-ever, at the time of which r.^V/'t'
ing were the opening of tlie consulate to plebeians and the regu a.
tion of the state domain in the interests of the whole community.
Both were attained by the Licinio.Sextian L,iws of 367.
Then a considerable change came over the tribunate. From being
»n opposition weapon it became an imporUnt wheel in the regular
machine of state. The senate became more and 'nef^.Pl^beian and
a new body of nobility was evolved which comprised both ordcra
in the sute. The tribunes at first belonged U> the same no able
plebeian families which attained to the consulate. The old frict on
l«tween senate and tribunes disappeared. It was found that the
tribunate served to fill some gaps in the constitution and its po«er
was placed by common consent on a so id constitutional basis
From 357 to 134 B.c. (when Tiberius Gracchus became tribune) the
tribunate was for the most part a mere organ of senatorial govern-
ment As the change made by the Gracchi was nither in the
practice than in the theory of the tribunate, it will be convenient
at this point to give a definite sketch of the conditions and prni-
leges attaching to the office. . . , . ,
Even after the difference between patncian and plebeian birth
had ceased to be of much practical consequence in other J;;f tions.
the plebeian character was a necessity for the tribune ^V hen tlie
patricians P. Sulpicius Rufus and, later, P. Cloduis (the antagonist
bf Cicero) dcsirecf to enter on a demagogic course, they were com-
pelled to divest themselves of their patrician quaiity by a peculiar
Wl process. Even the patricians who became so by m"«-fiat ot
th°e emperors were excluded from the tribunate. The other neces-
eary qualifications were for the most part such as attached to the
other Roman magistracies, -complete citizenship, absence of certain
conditions regar'Sed as disgraceful, fulfilment of military duties
The minimum age required for the office was, as m the case of the
qusstorship, twenty-seven. The tribunate stood outside the lound
3f magistAcies the conditions of which were regulated by the
Vinian Law of 180 B.C. The election took place in a purely plebeian
assembly, ranged by tribes, under the presidency of a tribune
selected by lot The tribune was bound by law to see a complete
St of ten tribunes appointed, Technically, the tribunes were
reckoned, not as magistrates of the Roman people, but as magis-
trates of the Roman plehs ; they therefore had no special robe of
office, no lictors, but only messengers (;^?f)\''° ^^Jif-^^tlk
like the curule seat, but only benches {suisellia). Their right to
eummon the plebs together, whether for the purpose of listening
to a speech (in which case the meeting was a w^/to) or for passing
ordinances (comUia Inhula), was rendered absolute by the laws
onder sacred sanction" (&?M sacrntx), which had been incorpor-
ated with the constitution on the abolition of the decemvirate.
The rit-ht to summon the senate and to lay business before it was
Required soon after 367, but was seldom exercised, as the tnbunos
had abundant means of securing what they wanted by Pressure
applied to the ordinary presidents, — the consuls or the urban
Cnetor When an inUrregnum came about and there w-ere no
•■ magistrates of the Roman people," the plebeian tribunes became
the proper presidents of the senate and conductors of ordinary
state business. At the end of the republic there were inUrrcjna
of several months' duration, when the tribunes held a position ol
more than usual imporUnce. A tenure of the tnbimate did not,
onti! a comparatively late period (probably about the time of the
Becond Punic War), confer a claim to a permanent seat in tne
Mnate. The candidates for the office were mainly young men ot
cood family who were at the beginning of their political career,
tut the office was often filled by older men of ambition who were
'stniKTling upwards with few advantages. The plebeian aediles
ix-ery soon after 367 became dissociated from the tribunes and as-
Wiated with the curale adiles, so that in the political hierarchy
Jthey really ranked higher than those who were originally their
eunerior officers,— .... v •_»—
The real kcrnal of the tribune's power consisted in his inter-
uavi or right of annulling ordinances, whether framed by the senate
or proposed by a magistrate to the crniUxa, or issued by a migi^trate
hi Ti^uance of his office. From 367 B.C. down to the fme o th^
tocchi the power of veto in public matters was on the whole used
in the interests of the aristocratic governing families to check
opposition arising in their own ranks. A recalcitrant consul was
most readily brought to obedience by an excrcu^e of tnbunician
power But, although modern readers of the ancient historians
are apt to carry away the idea that the tribunate was an intensely
prfitol office, it is sife to say that the occasions on which tnbunes
Fou d it possible to play a prominent part in politics were extremely
few even in the late republic. On the other hand, the tnbunes
found a field for constant activity in watching the administration
of J-.istice and in rendering assistance to those who had received
ha4 treatment from the magistrates. The tnbunes were in fact
primarily legal functionaries, and constituted in a way the only
wurt of appeal in republican Rome. It was to this end that they
were forbidden to paSs a whole night away from the city, except
durin "the Latin festival on the Alban Mount, and that they were
expected to keep their doors open' to suppliants by night as well
as^v day. They held court by day in the Fprurn close by the
Porcian basilica, InA frequently made elaborate egal '"?"'"">"'»
cases where their help was sought. Naturally this ordinary hum-
dmm work of the tribunes has left little mark on the pages of the
h storians, but we hear of it not unfrequently in Cicero s speeches
and ir^ other writings which deal with legal matters According o
the general principle of the constitution, magistrates could foi bid
the lets of magistfates equal to or inferior to themselves. For th s
purpose the tribunes were deemed superior to al other officers^ If
I tribune exercised his veto no other tnbune could anmil it for he
veto could not be itself vetoed, but it was possible for another tn-
bune to protect a definite individual from the consequences of dis-
obedience. The number of the tribunes (ten) made it always pos-
sible that one might baulk the action of another, except at times
when popular feeling was strongly roused. In any case ,t was of
U tleuse'^for a tribune to move in any important matter un ess he
had secured the co-operation or at least the neutrality of all his
collel^es The veto\vas not, however, absolute in all directions
Inlome it was limited by statute : thus the law passed by Gams
Gracchus about the consular provinces did not permit a tribune ^^
veto the annual decree of the senate concerning them. \\ hen there
wi a dictator at the head of the state the veto was of no aval
a^Tiinst him. One of the important political functions of the tri-
tfnes wasTo conduct prosecutions of state offenders, particularly
ex-magistrates. These%rosecutions began with a sentence pro-
nou3 by the tribune upon the culprU. »b"C."ron, exercising he
ric-ht given him by the XII. Tables, the culprit appealed. If the
trTbune sought to inflict punishment on the culprits person the
appeal was°to the assembly of the centuries- if b^.-;f ^^ f.*,
llr^e fine, the appeal was to the assembly of 'be tribes. As the
ribune had no ri/ht to summon the centuries, he had to obtain the
necrsary mcetinis through the urban praetor In the other even
he himself called togethef the tribute assembly and proposed a bill
for fining the culprtt. But the forms of trial gone through were
very similar in both cases. , .
ft is commonly suted that a ^reat change passed ?^er Jho m-
bunate at the time of the G.acchT and that from their day to the
end of the republic it was used as an insttiiment for setting on foot
political agitation and for inducing revolutionary changes. This
?-?ew iTantiversion of the facts. The tribunate did not create ho
Citation and the revolutions, but these found ""t through the
tnbunate which gave to the democratic leadere the hope that
acknowled-Idevilf might be cured by constitutional means and
in the disparate struggle to realize it the best democratic tribunes
strained the theoretic powers of their office to their ruin. For fhe
bad tribuneVdiTnot hesiute to use for bad ends the powei^ which
had been strained in the attempt to secure what was good. But
?cin the trrhuiiate only fared li|e all other parts o the repuj^icai,
constitution in its last period. The consuls and the senate ^ere at
least as guilty as the tribunes. After a severe restriction of its
p^werbrsulia and a restoration by Pom pey which gve a twenty
•ears' respite, the tribunate was merged into the imperial con
"stitution of which indeed it became the chief comer-stone. The
mpernsdid not become tribunes, but took "P "'o ^^^P^i^i^^l^
the essence of the office, the " tribunician authority. 'his ais
tri^n l^tween the essential principle of the office and the actual
tenure of the office was a creation of the late republic. Pompey,
:" xample, when he went to the East. -V^^^^l^t^'lTJ^l
of all the Eastern provinces, but he exercised in them a pro
consular authority " wh ch was superior to that of the actual pro
coSsSs-^an authority which was the prototype of the imperrJ
authority on its mili'ta.7 side. 8'""^"'? '.t ATuke ^ua li^
governor, without being tribune exercised Po" %" °f ''''?,^^"?l^y
with the powers of the t?ibune. though of superior force. By virtue
of his tribunician authority he ^^S^J-^f. \^^'^ »" 'Xtl li? ^e,
became the supreme court of appeal for the empire, and to "« per-
s^^^ alSl the ancient ^Sosanctity. Augustus show^e
high^^staTesmanship in fo- ling bis power upon a metamorphoeed
T R I — T R I
559
tribunate, rsther than npon a raetamorphoscJ dictatorship, upon
traditions which were democratic rather than upon traditions which
wer« patrician and optimjte. The tribunes continued to exist till
4 late period, with gradually vanishing dignity and rights ; but it
is not necessary here to trace their decay in detail.
The name "tribune" was once again illuminated by a passing
glory when assumed by Cola di Rienzi. The movement which he
neaded was in many respects extremely like the early movements
of the plebeians against the patricians, and his scheme for uniting
Italy in one free republic was strangely parallel with the greatest
<lream of the Gracchi. See Rome, vol. xx. p. 800 sq.
The history of the thbuoate is ioterworen with that of Rome, and must, to
ft lAT^ extent, be sought for in the same sources. The priuciptes attaching to
the omce are profoundly analysed by Mommseo in his Sitmtsrtx)it, and are clearly
set forth by E. Herzog in his GeschichU u. System der romischtn Staatsverfasstinff
(Uipsic, ISS4). (J. S. R)
TRICHINA, TRICHINOSIS. See NfiiUTOiDEA, and
Parasitism, vol. .wiii. p. 270.
TRICHINOPOLI, a district of British India, in the
Madras presidency, lying between 10° 37' and 11° 30' N.
lat. and 78° 12' and 79° 30' E. long. Its area is 3561
square miles. It is bounded on the north and north-west
by Salem, on the north and north-east by South Arcot,
on the east and south-east by Tanjore, on the south by
Pudukottai state and Madura, and on the west by Coim-
batore.' The surface is generally flat, though diversified
by masses of crystalline rock, of which the Trichinopoli
rock in the fort is a well-known example. The district
is well wooded, though nothing worthy of the name of
forest is to be found in it. The only mountains are the
Pachaimalais, which rise to 2500 feet and extend into
Salem district. The Kaveri (q-v.) and its branch the
Colerun are the only rivers of any importance. Trichi-
nopoli has numerous roads, and the South Indian Railway
traverses it from east to west. The climate is very hot,
and not liable to great variations; the annual average
rainfall is about 38 inches.
In 1 8S1 the population of the district was 1,215,033 (males 536, 434,
females 628,599), of whom Hindus numbered 1,119,434, Moham-
medans 34,104, and Christians 58,809. The only town with a
population exceeding 10,000 is Trichinopoli, the capital, witli
84,449 inhabitants. This city is chiefly noticeable for its strong
fort, perched on a granite peak 500 feet high, and the group of
temples and temple buildings situated on and around it 'The town
next in importance is Skirangam (q.v.). The chief crops of the
district are rice, cotton, tobacco, indigo, sugar-cane, cocoa-nut,
plantain, areca-nut, and chillies; and the most important local
industries are weaving and the manufacture of cigars. The prin-
cipal exports are grain of all kinds, especially rice ; the imports,
tobacco and salt In 1885-86 the gross revenue of the district
was £225,896, the land-tax yielding £185,889. Trichinopoli dis-
trict, along with the rest of the Carnatic, of which it formed part,
passed to the British by treaty in 1801.
TRIG TRAC. See Backgammon, vol. iii. p. 199.
TRICYCLE. Though velocipedes were made and used
more than one hundred years ago, none were practically
successful until the brothers Starley constructed in 1876
the Coventry tricycle. One of the earliest descriptions
of a cycle occurs in the Journal de Paris of 17th July
1779. Somewhat later M Richard invented a machine
driven by mechanism almost identical with that of the
modem omnicycle, but without the expanding segments.
Early in the 19th century the cranked axle worked by
treadles and levers came into fashion ; then the heavy
four-wheelers were preferred. All these machines, how-
ever, laboured under three fatal defects : it was almost
impossible to drive them up-hill, to check them in going
down -hill, and to prevent their overturning in rounding
a comer.
It was the success of the early bicycle (see Bicycle)
which suggested the belief that a serviceable tricycle could
be made. One of these bicycles was specially constmcted
for ladies, the hind wheel being placed well on one side ;
but, thodgh it could be ridden, it was not a commercial
success. The brothers Starley, by putting a second small
wheel in front of the large driving wheel and on the same
side as the small hind wheel, gave stability to the machine;
it was steered by turning the small wheels opposite ways,
and driven by the large wheel by means of cranks and
connecting rods. The same machine with chain driving
— the Coventry rotary — is still very largely used. In
1877 James Starley, it is believed without any knowledge
of the gear used by Fowler for traction engines, re-in-
vented the same differential gear for tricycles. By this
the same force is, under all circumstances, applied to each
of two equal driving wheels, and the evil effects of driving
a single wheel are done away with. This gear was used
in the original Salvo tricycle, which is the type of the
surest machine at the present day. In the early days of
the modern tricycle other designs were carried out, which
have now become practically obsolete. In one form the
hind wh-el of a bicycle was replaced by a pair of equal
wheels, one on each side, but the instability of such a
construction was fatal. In another, the allenge, the
two wheels were placed in front of the large driver and
turned together to steer the machine ; .stability was ob-
tained by putting the rider in front of the Isurge wheel
and lower down, the power being communicated by crahka
and connecting rods. But the weight of this machine and
the small proportion of the load on the driving wheel were
serious defects.
Single-driving rear-steerers were at this time very com-
mon, and, though highly objectionable, are still to be seen.
Rear-steerers were improved by making both front wheels
drivers ^nd allowing for the overrunning of one or the
other by clutch, as in the Cheylesmore, or by ratchet driv.
ing ; but steering by the hind wheel is essentially wrong,
and these machines are avoided by experienced riders.
Rear-steerers have, however, lately been made with a
through axle and differentia] gear (Rover), the rider being
placed further back so as to increase the load on the
steering wheel ; but the evil of rear-steering is only re-
duced, not removed. The clutch is also employed en some
front-steerers ; and, though in certain respects it has an
advantage over the differential gear, for general use it is
not so suitable. The differential gear is ao essential
feature of the modern tricycle.
In 1878 Messrs Doubleday and Humber patented the
Humber machine, which is both driven and steered by
the two front wheels, the rider being seated on a trailing
backbone and hind wheel as in the bicycle. This machine
requires skill to manage : the steering is at first difficult
to control and a spUl over the handles is quite possible ;
under a skilful rider, however, the Humber is generally
recognized as one of the fastest machines. It is steered
by a cross handle, like the bicycle, and this method of
steering, in spite of the fact that it boxes the rider into
the machine, is becoming very general in front steerers in
place of the rack and pinion steering hitherto in use. The
Cripper is a very popular example. The brake is an im-
portant featiu-e in roadster tricycles. It is always made
to act on the box of the differential gear where that is
used ; but in clutch or single-driven machines one or two
independent band-brakes or spoon-brakes are used.
In early day? the steering wheel was made small to
save weight ; the drivers were often 50 inches or more in
diameter; and the machine was as short as possible.
Owing to the discomfort attending a small wheel and a
short base the tendency at present is to increase the size
of the steering wheel and the length of the base, and
to diminish the diameter of the drivers, — two notable
examples being the Quadrant and the Crescent. It is
usual, especially when small driving wheels are used, to
gear the machine up, just as in the old daj-s they were
commonly geared down ; that is, the chain wheel on th€
crank axle has more or fewer teeth than that on the wheel
axle, and thus the wheels turn faster or slower than the
3G0
T R I — T R 1
cranks, or are equivalent to larger or smaller wheels. Two-
speed gears are becoming general, among which may be
especially mentioned the Cryptodynamic. By means of
these it is possible to change the gear of the machine so
as to have a high gear under favourable conditions and a
low gear when mud, wind, or an ascent make travelling
difficult. Although chain gearing is used in nearly every
machine made, connecting rods, wheels, or bands are fitted
instead to some machines. The necessitj' for such mechan-
ism has been avoided by making the wheel axle also the
treadle axle ; but great instability is the result.
Machines in which the arms instead of the legs supply the power
are made, and are of immense service to those who have lost the
use of their legs.
Owing to the inconvenience caused" by doorways being often too
narrow to allow a tricycle to pass through, many machines are made
to fold up into a narrower space or to shut up like a telescope.
It is important that the rider should be so placed that he can,
without leaning forward, put most of his weiglit on the treadles,
and this is more than ever needed as the steepness of an ascent in-
creases, because the slope of the machine has a contrary effect. Slid-
ing seats were arranged for this purpose ; biit Mr Warner Jones has
made use of a swinging frame which the rider can lock in any posi-
tion he pleases. It is this same swinging frame which gives such
comfort to the rider of the Otto bicycle, placing him at all times
in the position most suitable for the occasion. •
Carrier tricycles, in which due provision is made for the proper
distribution of the load, are largely used by the post-office and by
tradesmen in their business. The "Coventry chair " is a kind of
bath chair driven as a tricycle by a rider behind. When invalids
have overcome a certain prejudice as to the danger of this kind of
vehicle, it will no doubt be more generally used.
In machines for two riders the riders sit side by side (soeiahles)
or one is placed before the other (tandems). Sociable machines are
both front-steering and rear-steering. Rear-stcerers with each rider
driving the wheel on his side only are nearly as objectionable as
the single-driving rear-stcerer. Front-steering sociables with dif-
ferential gear are safe and comfortable ; but all sociables are slow
machines. For nearly every make of single tricycle there is a
corresponding tandem. The Coventry rotary in the tandem form
suffers more from the single-side driving than in tV.O dngle form,
the rear-steering machines not so much, owing to the greater weight
which the steering wheel has to bear. Tlie Humlier is less sen-
sitive in the steering, owing to the greater moment of inertia of the
frame and the front rider. The front-steercr cannot be made safer,
but an excellent tandem is formed by placing the rear-ri<ler on a
trailing tail as in the Humbcr. Tandems h.ave an advantage over
sociables and perhaps over single tricycles in the matter of speed ;
they are, however, not quico so safe, and their appearance alone
prevents many from riding them. Many sociables and tandems are
convertible into single machines with but little trouble.
The followit^c tables of quickest times wliicli have heen accnmplislied up to
the end of 1886 (certified by the National CyclisU' Union) will show the com-
parative value of the bicycle and tricycle as racing machines.
On a pn-paffd'TOci-ng path.
Distance.
Time, tricycle.
Time, bicycle. |
1 mile ....
5 miles. ....
29 „
100 „
2 min. 46'8seo.
I* „ 27-6 „
69 ,. 10-6 ,.
6 hrs. 43 min. 325 sec
2 min. 32-4 sec.
14 „ 18 „
59 „ 0-6 „
5 hrs. 50 min. 54 sec
Greatest distance tn one hour { ^ '";;" ^ >*■• ^JjJ^
On a puhUc road.
Land's End to John o' Groats i I 5 days 10 hrs., tricycle,
(about 870 miles) ' 5 ,, 1 ,, 45 min., bicycle.
Greatest distance in =4 hours { ^ -;•-■ tj-y^f (C. V. B.)
TRIESTE (Germ. Tiiesl, Slav. Trst, Lat. Tergesie), the
principal seaport of the Austrian-Hungarian empire, is
picturesquely situated at the north-east angle of the
Adriatic Sea, in the Gulf of Trieste and at the foot of the
barren Karst Hills. The old town, nestling round the hill
on which the castle stands, consists of narrow, steep, and
irregular streets. It is connected by the broad and hand-
some Corso with the well-built new town, which lies on
the flat expanse adjoining the crescent-sliapcd bay, partly
on ground that has been reclaimed from the sea. . The
prevailing air of the town is Italian rather than German.
The castle, built in 1680, is believed to occupy the site of
* These two by the same rider.
the Koman capitol (see below). Near it is the cathedral
of S. Giusto, an unimposing but interesting building,
mainly of the 14th century, and incorporating fragments
of a Roman temple and early Christian churches. Don
Carlos of Spain (d. 1855) is interred in the south aisle, and
Fouch^, Napoleon's minister of police, in front of the
church, while the churchyard contains the grave and
monument of Winckelmann, the archxologist, who was
murdered at Trieste in 1768. The Arco di Riccardo, also
in the old town, derives its name from a popular delusion
that it was connected with Richard Coeur-de-Lion, but is
probably an arch of a Roman aqueduct. A collection of
Roman antiquities found in or near the town has been
formed near the castle. The most prominent building in
the new town is the Tergesteo, a huge edifice containing
the exchange and numerous shops and offices. Tlie new
municipal buildings, with the handsome hall of the pro-
vincial diet, the Palazzo Revoltella, the offices of the
Austrian Lloyd's, and the handsome old exchange are
also noteworthy. The church of S. Jlaria Maggiore is
Plan of Trieste.
a characteristic specimen of Jesuit architecture, and the
new Greek church is one of the handsomest Byzantine
structures in the empire. The city hospital has accom-
modation for 2000 patients. The huge Politeama is the
largest theatre. In front of the Palazzo Revoltella is a
monument to the emperor Maximilian of Mexico, who had
been an admiral in the Austrian service. His sumptuous
chateau of Miramar is one of the lions of the neighbour-
hood. The capacious harbour, consisting of two parts, the
old and the new, is protected by extensive moles and
breakwaters, and has been greatly improved within the
last ten or fifteen years. From the harbour the Canal
Grande extends into the town, allowing large vessels to
unload at the warehouses. At the end of the Molo Sta
Teresa is a lighthouse upwards of 100 feet high. The
population ofthe town (6424 in 1758) and district of
Trieste in 1880 was 144,844, of whom 74,544 belonged
to the town proper and 133,019 to the town and suburbs.
The town population is very heterogeneous, but the Italian
element far exceeds all the rest. There are about 5000
T R I — T R I
561'
Onnaus and also numerous Greeks, English, and French.
The population includes 26,000 Slavs, most of whom live
in the country districts and are engaged in agriculture.
Trieote Las been a fre« imperial port since 1719. It may be said
to nearly monopolize the trade of the Adriatic, and has long
eclipsed its ancient ri>-al Venice. The annual value of ita exports
•nd importa is about 30 millions sterling. Among the chief im-
ports are coffee, vrine, fruit, grain, tobacco, petroleum, cotton, coals,
and manufactured goods of variotts kinds ; the exports include
spirits, h-^ueurs, sugar, meal, timber, glass, and machinery. Large
quantities of fidi are eent to Vienna. In 15S5 the port was entered
by 69T1 vessels with an aggregate burden of 1,267,946 tons. The
'trading fleet of Trieste numbers about 500 ships of 100,000 tons
burden. The chi^ shipping company is the Austrian Lloyd's,
founded in 1S36. the steamers of which ply to the Mediterranean
ports, Alexandria, Constantinople, the Black Sea, &c The exten-
sive wharfs and dockyards of the company lie to the south of the
town The chief b.-anches of industry practised at Trieste are
shipbuilding, soap- boiluTg, machine -making (especially marine
engines), tanning, brewing, rope-making, and the manufacture of
liqueurs (rosoglio). Trieste is tiie seat of government for the so-
called Eiistenland or Coast distlict, and is ma scat of naval anJ
military commanders and other oliicials. The town council, pre-
sided over by the podesta, is also the diet of the crownland of
Trieste (35 square miles). Trieste is the seat of the bishop of
Capo d'Istria.
History. — ,4t the time of the foundation of Aquilcia by th«
Romans, the district which now includes Trieste was occupied by
Celtic aud lUyrian tribes ; and the Roman colony of Tergeste does
not seem to have been established till the reign of Vespasian. After
the break-up of the Roman dominion Trieste shared the general for-
tunes of Istria and passed through various hands. From the em-
peror Lothaire it received an independent existence under its count-
bishops, and it maintained this position down to its capture by
Venice in 1203. For the next 180 years its history consists chiefly
of a series of conflicts with this city, which were finally put an
end to by Trieste placing itself in 1382 under the protection of
Leopold III. of Austria. The overlordship thus established in-
sensibly developed into actual possession ; and except in the
Napoleonic period (1797-1805 and 1809-1813) Trieste has sine*
remained an integral part of the Austrian dominions.
TRIGGER-FISH. See File-Fish.
TRIGONOMETRY
TRIGONOMETRY is primarily the science which is
concerned with the measurement of plane and
spherical triangles, that is, with the determination of three
of the parts of such triangles when the numerical values
of the other three parts are given. Since any plane tri-
angle can be divided into right-angled triangles, the solu-
tion of all plane triangles can be reduced to that of right-
angled triangles ; moreover, according to the theory of
similar triangles, the ratios between pairs of sides of a
right-angled triangle depend only upon the magnitude of
the acute angles of the triangle, and may therefore be
regarded as functions of either of these angles. The
primary object of trigonometry, therefore, requires a classi-
fication and numerical tabulation of these fimctions of an
angular magnitude ; the science is, however, now under-
stood to include the complete investigation not only of
such of the properties of these fimctions as are necessary
for the theoretical and practical solution of triangles but
also of all their analytical properties. It appears that the
solution of spherical triangles is effected by means of the
same functions as are required in the case of plane triangles.
The trigonometrical functions are employed in many
branches of mathematical and physical science not directly
concerned with the measurement of angles, and hence
arises the importance of analytical trigonometry. The
solution of triangles of which the sides are geodesic lines
on a spheroidal surface requires the introduction of other
functions than those required for the solution of triangles
on a plane or spherical surface, and therefore gives rise to
a new branch of science, which is from analogy frequently
called spheroidal trigonometry. Every new class of surfaces
which may be considered would have in this extended
sense a trigonometry of its own, which would consist in
an investigation of the nature and properties of the
fimctions necessary for the measurement of the sides and
angles of triangles bounded by geodesies drawn on such
furfacea
HISTOBT.
Oreek. An account of Greek trigonometry is given under
Ptolemy (j.f.).
Ibdiaa. The Indians, who were much more apt calculators than
the Greeks, availed themselves of the Greek geometry
which came from Alexandria, and made it the basis of
trigonometrical calculations. The principal improvement
which they introduced consists in the formation of tables
of half<hord3 or sines instead of chords. Like the Greek*,
they divided the circumference of the circle into 360
degrees or 21,600 minutes, and they found the length in
minutes of the arc which can be straightened 'out into
23^21
the radius to be 3438'. The value of the ratio of the '
circumference of the circle to the diameter used to make >
this determination is 62832 : 20000, ot - = 3-1416, which
value was given by the astronomer Aryabhata (476-550 i
see Sanskrit, voL xxi. p. 294) in a work called Art/a-
bliatiya, written in verse, which was republished ' in Sanskrit
by Dr Kern at Leyden in 1874. The relations between the
sines and cosines of the same and of complementary arc*
were known, and the formula sin ia= v/17 19(3438 -cos a)
was applied to the determination of the sine of a half
angle when the sine and cosine of the whole angle were
known. In the Surya-Siddhdnta, an astronomical treatise
which has been translated by Ebenezer Bourgess in voL
vi. of the Journal of the American Oriental Society (New
Haven, 1860), the sines of angles at an interval of 3° 45'
up to 90° are given; these were probably obtained from tha
sines of 60° and 45° by continual application of the dinjidi-
ary formula given above aud by the use of the complement-
ary angle. The values sin 15' = 890', sin 7° 30' = 449',
sin 3° 45' = 225', were thus obtained. Now the an^e 3° 45'
is itself 225' ; thus the arc and the sine of j^th of the cir-
cumference were found to be the same, and consequently
special importance was attached to this arc, which was
called the right sine. From the tables of sines of angle
at intervals of 3° 45' the law expressed by the equation
sin (nTi . 225") - sin (a. 225')=sin (n. 225') - sin (n^ i . 225')
. (n.?25')
-^--225-
was discovered empirically, and used for the purpose of
recalculatioru Bhaskara (fl. 11-50) used the method, to
which we have now returned, of expressing sines and cosines
as fractions of the radius ; he obtained the more correct
values sin 3° 45'= 100/1529, cos 3° 45' = 466/467, and
showed how to form a table, according to degrees, from the
values sin 1° = 10/573, cos 1° = 6568/6569, which are much
more accurate than Ptolemy's values. The Indians did
not apply their trigonometrical knowledge to the solution
of triangles ; for astronomical purposes they solved right-
angled plane and spherical triangles by geometry.
The Arabs were acquainted with Ptolemy's Almagest, Arabian
and they probably learned from the Indians the use of the
sine, "rhe celebrated astronomer of Batnae, Abii 'Abdallah
Mohammed b. Jabir al-Battdnl (Bategnius), who died in
929/930 A.D., and whose Tables were trjiiislated in the
12th century by Plato of Tivoli into Latin, under the title
De scientia stellarum, employed the sine regularly, and was
fully conscious of the advantage of the sine over the chord ;
indeed, he remarks that the continual doubling is saved
' See also voL iL of the Asiatie Rttearcha (Calcatta).
XXIIL — 71
562
TRIGONOMETRY
[histort.
by the use of the former. He was the first to calculate
sin<^ from the equation sin</>/cosi#i = ^', and he also made a
table of the lengths of shadows of a vertical object of height
12 for altitudes 1°, 2°, . . . of the sun ; this is a sort of
cotangent tabie. He was acquainted, not only with the
triangle formute in the Almagest, but also with the
formula cos a = cos b cos c + sin b sin r cos A for a spherical
triangle ABC. Abu '1-WafA of Baghdad (b. 940) was the
first to introduce the tangent as an independent function :
his " umbra " is the half of the tangent of the double arc,
and the secant he defines as the "diameter umbraj." He
employed the umbra to find the angle from a table and not
merely as an abbreviation for sin/cos; this improvement
was, however, afterwards forgotten, and the tangent was
re-invented in the 15th century. Ibn Yunosof Cairo, who
died in 1008, showed even more skill than Al-BattAn( in
the solution of problems in spherical trigonometry and gave
improved approximate formula: for the calculation of sines.
Among the West Arabs, Abii Mohammed Jabir b. Aflali,
known as Geber b. Aflah, who lived at Seville in the 11th
icentury, wrote an astronomy in nine books, which was
translated into Latin in the 12tli century by Gerard of
ICremona and was published in 1534. The first book con-
tains a trigonometry which is a considerable improvement
;on that in the Almagest. He gave proofs of the formuLns
for right-angled spherical triangles, depending on a rule of
jfour quantities, instead of Ptolemy's rule of six quantities.
|The formulae cos/? = cos6 sin A, cosc = cot j1 cot B, in a
triangle of which C is a right angle had escaped the notice
of Ptolemy and were given for the first time by Geber.
Strangely enough, he made no progress in plane trigono-
metry. Arrachel, a Spanish Arab who lived in the 12th
century, wrote a work of which we have an analysis by
I Purbach, in which, like the Indians, he made the sine and
the arc for the value 3° 45' coincide.
MoJcm. Purbc^h (1 423-1 4C1), professor of mathematics at Vienna,
wrote a work entitled Tractatus super propositiones Ptole-
mxi de sinubus et chordis (Nuremberg, 1541). . This treatise
consists of a development of Arrachel's method of inter-
polation for the calculation of tables of sines, and was pub-
i iished by Regiomontanus at the end of one of his works.
'Johannes Miiller (1436-1476), known as Regiomontanus
(j.w.), was a pupil of Purbach and taught astronomy at
I Padua ; he wrote an exposition of the Almagest and a more
important work, De triaTigulis plants et spkericis cum tabulis
'siniium, which was published in 1533, a later edition ap-
'pearing in 1561. He re-invented the tangent and calcu-
lated a table of tangents for each degree, but did not make
'any practical applications of this table, and did not use
.formuhe involving the tangent. His work was the first
complete European treatise on trigonometry, and contains
a number of interesting problems ; but his methods were
'in some respects behind those of the Arabs. Copernicus
(1473-1543) gave the first simple demonstration of the
fundamental formula of spherical trigonometry; the Trigo-
nometria Copemici was published by Rheticus in 1542.
iGeorge .loachim (1514-1576), known as Rheticus (q.v.),
wrote Opus Palatinum de triangulis (see Tables, p. 9
above), which contains tables of sines, tangents, and secants
of arcs at intervals of 10" from 0° to 90°. His method of
calculation depends upon the formulae which give sin na
and cosna in terms of the sines and cosines of (n- I)a
and (n - 2)o ; thus these formulae may be regarded as due
to him. Rheticus found the formulae for the sines of the
half and third of an angle in terms of the sine of the whole
angle. In 1599 there appeared an important work by
Pitiscus (1561-1613), entitled TrigoTiometrix sen de dimen-
tione Iriangulorum ; this contained several important theo-
rems on the trigonometrical functions of two angles, some
of which had been given before by Finck, Landsberg,
and Adriaan van Rooraen. Francois Viete or Vieta {q.v.)'
( 1 540-1 003) employed the equation (2 cos i<^)3 - 3(2 cos J<^)
= 2 cos f/> to solve the cubic ifi - Za-x = a-b{a > W) ; he "ob-
tained, however, only one root of the cubic. In 1593 Van
Roomen proposed, as a problem for all mathematicians, to
solve the equation
iO<j- 3rD5y + 95G34i/» -... + 945y> - iStj" J. »/« = C
Viute gave y = 2 sin ^'j<^, where C = 2 sin <!>, as a solution,'
and also twenty-two of the- other solutions, but he failed
to obtain the negative roots. In his work Ad migulares
sectiones Victe gave formulae for the chords of multiples of
a given arc in terms of the chord of the simple arc.
A new stage in the development of the science was
commenced after Napier's invention of logarithms in 1C14.
Napier also simplified the solution of spherical triangles by
his well-known analogies and by his rules for the solutiou
of right-angled triangles. The first tables of logarithmic
sines and tangents were constructed by Edmund Guuter
(15S1-1026), professor of astronomy at Grcsham College,'
London ; he was also the first to employ the expressions
cosine, cotangent, and cosecant for the sine, tangent, and
secant of the complement of an arc. A treatise by Albert
Girard (1590-1634), published at The Hague in 1620, con-
tains the theorems which give areas of spherical triangles
and polygons, and applications of the properties of the
supplementary triangles to the reduction of the number
of different cases in the solution of spherical triangles. He
used the notation sin, tan, sec for the sine, tangent, and
secant of an arc. In the second half of the 17th century
the theory of infinite series was developed by Wallis,
Gregory, Mercator, and afterwards by Newton and Leibnitz.
In the Anahjsis per squalionesnumero terminorum infinitas,
which was written before 1669, Newton gave the series for
the arc in powers of its sine ; from this he obtained the
series for the sine and cosine in powers of the arc; but
these series were given in such a form that the law of the
formation of the coefficients was hidden. James Gregory
discovered in 1670 the series for the arc in powers of the
tangent and for the tangent and secant in powers of the
arc. The first of these series was also discovered inde-
pendently by Leibnitz in 1673, and published without
proof in the Ada enidiiqrum for 1682. The series for the
sine in powers of the arc he pubUshed in 1693; this he
obtained by differentiation of a series with undetermined
coefficients.
In the 1 8th century the science began to take a more
analytical form ; evidence of this is given in the works of
Kresa in 1720 and Mayer in 1727. Oppel's Analysis
triangulorum (1746) was the first complete work on ana-
lytical trigonometry. None of these mathematicians used
the notation sin, cos, tan, which is the more surprising in
the case of Oppel, since Euler had in 1744 employed it in
a memoir in the Acta ei~uditorum.' John Bernoulli was
the first to obtain real results by the use of the symbol
n' - 1 ; he published in 1 7 1 2 the general formula for tan n<t>
in terms of tan <^, which he obtained by means of trans-
formation of the arc into imaginary logarithms. The
greatest advance was, however, made by Euler, wTio
brought the science in all essential respects into the state
in which it is at present. He introduced the present nota-
tion into general use, whereas until his time the trigono-
metrical functions had been, except by Girard, indicated
by special letters, and had been regarded as certain straight
lines the absolute lengths of which depended on the radius
of the circle in which they were drawn. Euler's great im-
provement consisted in his regarding the sine, cosine, &c,
as functions of the angle only, thereby giving to equatiais
connecting these functions a purely analytical interpret*,
tion, instead of a geometrical one as heretofore. Th»
Fig. J.
PL4NE.J
r
exponential values of the sine and cosine, De Moivre's
theorem, and a great number of other analytical properties
of the trigonometrical functions are due to Euler, most of
whose writings are to be found in the Memoirs of the St
Petersburg Academy
The preceding sketch has been mainly dra-vji from the following
sources: — Cantor, Gcsch. d. Math., Hankcl, GescX d. Math.,
Marie. Hist dcs sc math ; Suter, Gisch. d. Math. ; Klugel, Math.
^lyorUrbiuh.
Platu TrigonuymUry.
Cencep- Imagine a straight line terminated at a fixed point 0, and initially
tion of coincident « ill) atiied straight line OA, to revolve round 0, and
•ngles of finally to t.nke up any position OB.
any mag- We shall suppose that, when this re-
uitaJe. Tolling straight line is turning in one
direction, say that opposite to that in
which the haii.'.s of a clock turn, it is
describing a positive angle, and when
it is turning in tiie otlier direction it
is describing a negative angle. Before
finally taking up the position OB the
straight line may have passed any num-
ber of times through the position OB,
making any number of complete revo-
iutioiis round 0 in either direction.
Each time that the straight line makes
a complete revolution round 0 we consider it to have described four
right angles, taken with the positive or negative sign according to
tha direction in which it has revolved ; thus, when it stops in the
position OB, it may have revolved through any one of an infinite
number of positive or negative angles any two of which differ from
one another by a positive or negative multiple of four right angles,
and all of wiiicli have the same bounding lines OA and OB. If
OB" is the final position of the revolving line, the -smallest positive
angle which can have been described is that described by the revolv-
ing line making more than one-half and less than the whole of a
complete revolution, so that in this case we have a positive angle
greater than two and less than four right angles. \Ve have thus
shown how we may conceive an angle not restricted to less than two
right .ingles, but of any positive or negative magnitude, to be
generateu.
N'ameri- Two systems of numerical measurement of .ingulir magnitudes
cal meas- are in ordinary use. For practical measurements the sexagesimal
urement system is the one employed r the ninetieth part of a right angle is
of augu- taken as the unit and is called a degree ; the degree is divided into
l.ar mag. si^tty equal parts called minutes ; and the minute into sixty equal
oitudes. parts called .^leconds ; angles smaller than a second are usually
measuied as decimals of a second, the "thirds," "fourths," tc, not
being in ordinary use. In the common notation an angle, for ex-
ample, of 120 degrees, 17 minutes, and 14-36 seconds is written 120°
17' 14' 36. Tl'.e decimal system measurement of angles has never
come into ordinary use. In analytical trigonometry the circular
measure of an angle is employed. In this system the unit angle
is the angle subtended at the centre of a circle by an arc equal iu
length to the radius. The constancy of this angle follows from the
geometrical propositions — (1) the circumferences of different circles
vaiy as their radii ; (2j in the same circle angles at the centre are
proportional to the arcs which subtend them. It thus follows that
the unit mentioned above is an angle independent of the particular
circle tised in defining it. The constant ratio of the circumference
of a circle to its diameter is a quantity incommensurable with unity,
nsually denoted by r. We shall indicate later on (p. 571 sy.) some of
the methods which have been employed to appro-ximate to the value
of this quantity. Its value to 20 places is 3 14159265358979323816 ;
its reciprocal to the same number of places is -31830988618379067153.
In circular measure every angle is measured by the ratio which it
bears to the unit angle. Two right angles are measured by the
quantity r, and, since the same angle is 180°, we see that the number
of degrees in an angle of circular measure B is obtained from the
fomjula 180 x e/i-. The value of the unit of circular measure has
been found to 41 places of decimals by Glaisher {Ptoc London Math.
Soc., vol 17.) ; the value of -, from which the unit can be easily
calculated, is given to 140 places of decimals in Grmiert's Archiv,
vol. L, 1841. To 10 decimal places the value of the unit angle is
67° 17' 44" "8062470964. The unit of circular measure is too large
to be convenient for practical purposes.' but its use introduces a
simplification into the series in analytical trigonometry, owing to
the fact that the sine of an angle and the angle itself in this
measure, when the magnitude of the angle is indefinitely diminished,
are ultimately in a ratio of equality.
If a point moves from a position A to another position .S on a
straight line, it has described a length AB of the straight line. It
is convenient to have a simple mode of indicating in which direction
on the straight line the length AB has been described ; this may
TRIGONOMETRY
563
A
he done by supposing that a point moving in one specified direction Sign of
is describing a positive length, and when moving in the- opposite portions
direction a negative length. Thus, if a point moving from A to 5 of au in
is moving in the positive direction, we consider the length AB as finite
positive ; and, since a point moving from B ia A is moving in the straight
negative direction, we consider the length BA as negative. Hence line,
any portion of an infinite straight line is considered to be positive
or negative according to the direction in which we suppose this
portion to be described by a moving point ; which direction is the
positive one is, of course, a matter of conventioTL
If perpendiculars AL, B.V be drawn from two points A, B on ProjM-
any straight line, not necessarily in the same plane with AB, the tions of
length Lit, taken with the positive or negative sign according tostraighl
the coivention as stated above, is called the projection of AB on lines on
the gi%'en straight line ; the projection of BA being ML has the each
opposite sign to the projection oiAB. If two points A, B be joined other,
by a number of lines in any manner, the algebraical sum of the
projections of all these lines is LM, — that is, the same as the pro-
jection of AB. Hence the sum of the projections of all the sides
of any closed polygon, not necessarily plame, on any straight line,
is zero. This principle of projections we shall apply below to'ob-
tain some of the most important propositions in trigonometry.
Let us now return to the conception of the generation of an Defini
angle as in fig. 1. Draw BOS' at right angles to and equal to A A', tion of
We shall suppose that the direction from A' trigono-
to A is the positive one for the straight line metrical
J AOA', and that from B' to £ for fnuc-
BOB". Suppose OP of fixed length, tiona.
I, , ■■ — . equal to OA, and let PM, PA' be
// drawn perpendicular to A'A, £"3
. ' respectively ; then OM and ON,
taken with their proper signs, are the projep-
tions of OP on A'A and B^B. The ratio of
Pj.,°- the projection of OP on PB to the absolute
° length of OP is dependent only on the magni-
tude of the angle PDA, and is called the sine of that angle ; the
ratio of the projection of OP on A'A'to the length OP is called the
cosine of the angle POA. The ratio of the sine of an angle to its
cosine is called the tangent of the angle, and that of the cosine to the
sine the cotangent of the angle ; the reciprocal of the cosine is called
the secant, and that of the sine the cosecant of the angle. Thess
functions of an angle of magnitude a are denoted by sin o, cos a,
tan a, cot o, sec a, cosec o respectively. If any straight line E3.
be drawn parallel to OP, the projection of RS on either of the!
straight lines A'A, BB can be easily seen to bear to .E5 the same
ratios which the corresponding projections of OP bear to OP; thus,
if a be the angle which RS makes with A'A, the projections of
RS on A'A, B'B are RS cos a. and RS sin a respectively, where
RS denotes the absolute length RS. It must be obsened that
the line SR is to be considered as jjarallel not to OP hut to OP',
and therefore makes an angle T-(-a with A'A; this is consistent
with the fact that the projections of SB, ^re of opposite sign to
those of RS. By observing the signs of the projections of OP for
the positions P, P, P", P" of P we see that the sine and cosine of
the angle POA are both positive ; the siue of the angle P'OA is posi-
tive and its cosine is negative ; both the sine and the cosine of the
angle P'OA are negative ; and the sine of the angle 'P"OA is
negative and its cosine positive. If a be the numerical value of
the smallest angle of which OP /ind OA are boundaries, we see
that, since these straight lines also bound all the angles 2nT-ha,
where n is any positive or negative integer, the sines and cosines
of all these angles are the same as the sine and cosine of a.' Hence
the sine of any angle 2nir-fo is positive if o is between 0 and »
and negative if a is between t and 2s-, and the cosine of the same
angle is positive if o is between 0 and Jir or |t and 2t and negative
if a is between ^r and Sir.
In fig. 2 if the angle 'POA is o, the angle P"OA is - o, POA is
-a, P^OA iST-fo, POBis ^-a.
By observing the signs of the
projections we see that
sin(- a)= -sina, sin (ir - a) = sin a, sin (T-fo)= - sin a,
cos( -o) = coso, cos(T-a)= -cosa, cos(i-l-a)= - coso,
sin(Jr-a) = coso, cosCJi - o) = sin o.
Also 6in(J»- + a) = siE(r- Ji- o)= sin(|x-a)= coso,
cos(5r-l-a) = cosCi- J»--a)= -cos(4i-o)= - sin o.
From these equations we have tant-o)= - tana,tan(ir-o)= -tana,
tan(i--Ha)= -tana, tanCJi-- o) = cota, tan(jT + a)= -coto, with
corresponding equations for the cotangent.
The only angles, for which the projection of OP on B'B is the
same as for the given angle POA ( = a) are the two sets of angles
bounded by OP, OA and. OP, OA ; these angles are 2ni -t- o and ,
2«T -I- X - a, and are- all included in the formula nr-f( -Ij'a, whereri
is any integer ; this therefore is the formula for all angles having
the same sine as a. The only angles which have the same cosine
as a are those bounded by OA, OP and OA, OP", and these are
all included in the formula 2nr±a. Similarly it can be bho*n
564
TRIGONOMETRY
[plank.
that nx + a includes all the angles which have the same tangent
as a.
lUIa- From the Pythagorean theorem, the. snm of the squares of the
ttoa"* be* projertions of any straight line upon two straight lines at right
tween angles to one another ts equal to the square on the projected line,
Irigono- we get sin-a + co3-a = l, and from this by the help of the definitions
metrical of the other functions we deduce the relations 1 + tau^a = sec^a,
f<inc- 1 +cot-a = cosec-a. We have now six relations between the six
tioQS. functions ; these enable us to express any five of these functions in
terras of the sixth. The following table shows the values of the
trigonometrical functions of the angles 0, i^r, v, ^ir, 2x, and the
signs of the functions of angles between these values ; / denotes
numerical increase and D numerical decrease.
.Angle .
0
O.-K
i'
ir...r
V
»...}ir
!"■
5i-...Sir
ST
,Sine
0
+ ;
1
+ D
0
-/
- 1
-D
0
, Cosine ...
1
+ 0
0
-;
■- 1
-D
0
+ /
1 Tangent
0
+;
±«
-D
0
+ 1
±«
-D
0
1 Cotangent
±x
+ D
0
-/
±«
+ D
0
-/
±<o
Secant .
1
+ /
±«
-D
- 1
-I
±«
+D
1
1 Coseqant
±«
+ D
1
+ ;
±«
-D
- 1
-I
±«
Tlie corrertiicss of the table may be verified from the figure by con-
sidering the magnitudes of the projections of OP for different
positions.
Values of The following table shows the sine and cosine of some angles for
trigono- which the values of the functions may he obtained geometrically ; —
metrical
functions
for some
Angles.
IS-
IS*
sine
4
,/r-i
4
cosine
4
75*
72-
I'
4
80-
36*
1
2
i
v^+-I
4 "
60*
M
I'
iV
4
45"
cosine
sine
45'
Ax
4
and cos ^ is
5
These are obtained as follo\ra. (1) j. The sine and cosine of this
angle are equal to one another, since sin 7 =co3 { 5 - : ) i and since
the sum of the squares of the sine and cosine is unity each is ~=-
(2) ^ and ;. Consider an equilateral triangle ; the projection of
one side on another is obviously half a side; hence the cosine of
an angle of the triangle is ; or cos ^ = i, and from this the sine is
ir T 2ir 3t o Z
found. (3) 77;, J, -J-; ri- In the triangle constracted in Euc. iv.
2ir r
10 each angle at the base is — , and the vertical angle is ■ . If o
be a side and S the base, we have by the construction a^a -b) = b' ;
hence 2!. = o(\/5- 1) ; the sine of ,^ U ;^ or N^~^
a v5+l ,,, T Sir _ ., . , , , . , ,
51= — 7 — . (4J Tq, r^. Consider a nght-nngled tnangle, nav.
iug an angle Jir. Bisect this angle, then the opposite side is cut
by the bisector in the ratio of ^3 to 2 ; hence the length of the
smaller segment is to that of the whole in the ratio of s/3"to \/3 + 2,
therefore tan ^x = -^ — tan Jir or tan ,Vir = 2 - -JZ, and from this
\/3 + 2
wa can obtain sin ^w and cos ^ir.
Pormuls Draw a straight line OD making any angle A witli a 6xed straight
for Bine ■ line OA, and draw OF making an angle B n-ith o^
and CO- OD, this angle being measured positively in the
Bine of same direction as A ; draw FE.i perjiendicnlar
•am and on DO (produced if necessary). The projection
differ- ofO^on OA is the sum of the projections of
ence of OE and EF on OA. Now OE is the projection
two of OP on 00. and is therefore eqnal to 0/" cos £, * Rg- »•
•aglea. fcnd EF is the projection of OF on a straight line making an angle'
'^ '+ Jt with OD, and is therefore eqnal to OFsin B ; hence
OFcoalA*B) = OBmsA + EFcos(ir + A)
= OFicos A cosB- sin A sin B),
•T' cos(./4 + B)=cos^ cos S-sin ^ sin B.
TTie angles A. B are absolntely unrestricted in magnitnde, and tbns
(his formula is perfectly general We may change the sign o(£, thus
cos(/*-B) = coSy<co6(-5)-sin Asm{ - B),
01 cos(.,4 - .Bi = cos.^cosB + 9in ./4sin B
If we projectwl the sides of the triangle OFF on a straight line
making an angle -1-^^ with OA ws should obtain the formula
sin (^±S)=sin A cos Bicos A sin B,
which are really conuined in the cosine formula, since we may put
^rr-B tor B. The formulae
,..j_n> tan^iUnB .,..j.m colAcotBrfl
tan(.,4±.Bl = ^ : 7;, coHA±B) = — — jj^ — rV
are immediately deduciWe from the above formula. The equations
sin C+sinZ3 = 2sin4{C-)-Z>)cos5(C-Z)),
sin C-sinZ) = 2sini{C-il)cosMC+/)),
cos/) + co3 C = 2cos.He+/J)cosj(C-i3),
cos £> - cos C=2 sin J (C + /)) sin j {C- D),
may be obtained directly by the mcthoii of projections. Take
two equal straight lines OC, OD, making angles C, D with OA,
and draw OE perpendicular to CD. The angle which OE makes
»nth OA is J(C + /J)and that which Z)C makes
is J(ir + C+i)); the angle COE k K{C - D).
The sum of the projections of OD and DE or,
OA is equal to that of OE, and the sum of
the projections of OD and DE is equal to that
of OC i hence the sum of the projections of
OC and OD is twice that of.OE, or cos C
+ 1:03 D = 2cos iiC+D) cosiiC-D). The.
difference of the projections of OD and OC ^'8- 4.
on OA is equal to that of ED, hence we have the formula cosD-
cosC=2sin 4(C + /))sin HC-D). The other two forinuls will be
obtained by projecting on a straight line inclined at an angle + }t
to OA.
As another example of the use of projections, we will find the sum Sum of
of the series cos a + cos (a + ^) + cos (o + 2/3) + . . . + cos (a + 71 - 1 ^). series of
Suppose an unclosed polygon each angle of which is r-^ to be in- cosines
scribed in a circle, and let A^, A^, A^ ..., A„ be n-f 1 consecutive *" anlh-
angular points ; let Z* be the diameter of the circle ; and suppose a metical
straight linj drawn making an angle a with AAi, then a + /9, progres-
a + 2ft . . . are the angles it makes with .A^Aj, A^A,, ...; we have by *'<">•
projections
AA„ cos
also
=.^.i4,(cMo-t-cosa + /3+ ... ■^coso-^.l- 1^),
^Ai—Dsin
?
AA„ = Dsia
"P.
J
hence the sum of the series of cosines is c^s( a H — ^-^ Isin -^ v«<.vw .
By a double application 01 the addition formulae we may obtain the Formula
formulfe for sine
sin (^, + A, + Aj) = sin A^ cos A, cos A, + cos .<^, sin .A, cos A, ani^
+ C0S ^1 cosy^jsin y^j-sin Ay sin .rfjSin A^; cosine of
c03(.^i^y4j + .^3) = cosy4, cos .^j cos .i^j - cos Ai sin A^siaA, ^'"" ''
- sin y^i cos A, sin .,4j - sin A^ sin A^ cos A,. angles.
"We can by induction extend these formulae to the case of n angles.
Assume sin {Ay + A2+ ... + An) = 5j - ^j + ^j- ...
cos{.4, + /)j+ ... + An)=Sa- S, + Sf- ...
where S, denotes the sum of the products of the sines of r of the
angles and the cosines of the remaining n-r angles ; then we have
sia(.Aj-¥A,+ ... +/i„ + -4„,,) = cos A„.,,{S,- S^ + Sf ...)
+ sinA„,,(.Siy-Si + S,- ...).
The right-hand side of this equation may be written
(5, cos /!„.,., -t- 5„ sin ^„.,) - (5, cos A„.,t + S^ sin A„^,,)+ . . .,
or S'y-S'3+ ...
where S*. denotes the quantity which corresponds for n + 1 angles
to Sr for n angles ; similarly we may proceed with the cosine for-
mula. The theorems are true for n = 2and n = 3; thus they are
true generally. The formula
cos 2A = cos' A - sin'^ = 2 cos'^ - 1 = 1 - 2 sin'/f ,
2 tan A
sin 2A =2 sio A cos A , tan2y< =
sin 3A = 3siaA-i sia'A,
n(n ■
sin n.^ =n cos""'.^ sin >< - -
1 - tnn'.^'
cos 3^ = 4 cos^.4 - S cos -<<
— cos'-'A sio'A +
Pormnlap
for mul-
tiple and
Bub-raul-
tiple
angles.
13
■^( - 1) . „ ' co8"-'^M,sm''^.<l,
I 2r-H
cosn.,4=cosn^ j-^— cos"-'v4 sin'v4 + ...
+■(-!)'
^(n-l)...(n-2r-l-l)
|2r
cos"*''^ sin''.^ + .
may all be dedoced from the addition formulae by making ths
angles all equal. From the last two formulae we obtain by divisioi
tan njt
IS
t»n».H-...-t-(-I)"
"'"?oJ."''"'tAnar-n^^...
12r+l
-lo the particular case of n = 3 we have tan 3 A
't»n2'^-V...
3tan^- tan*.^
l-3tan».4 ■
8FH£BICA1.]
TRIGONOMETRY
565
The values of sin ^A, cos ^A, tan iA arc given in terms of cos A
by the foriuuls
,/l-'^s^M , , , ,,,/I+cos^\i
rini-< = (-l)'('— fi^)'.cosi^ = (-l)'( 2-—)
-M=(-l)'G-i^)'.
A A 1
where pis the integral part of ^, q the integral part of ^ + 2*
«nd r the integral part of —
Sin ^A, cos \A are given in terms of sin A by the formnlie
2sin M = C - 1)^(1 +sin /))' + (- 1)''(1 - sin ^)»,
2cos M = ( - ')' (l + sin /()» - ( - !)''(! - sin A)^,
A 1
mhen ^ is the integral part of g- + j »"<1 / the integral part of
A I
2r"4"
■Proper- In any plane triangle ABC we will denote the lengths of the
ties of sides BC, CA, AB hy a, b, c respectively, an.^ the angles BAC,
mangles. ABC, ACB by A, B, C respectively. The fact that the projections
of b and c on a straight line perpendicular to the side a are equal
to one another is expressed by the equation *sin C=<:sin B ; this
equation and the one obtained by projecting e and a on a straight
line perpendicular to a may be written -: — -■= t=— == -^ — r,. The
'^ "^ ' sin A sin B sin C
equation a=icos(7-t:'ecosB expresses the fact that the side a is
equal to the soTn of the projections of the sides b and c on itself ;
thus we obtain the equations
a = 6cos C+e cosS^
b — c cos A +acosC J-
c=acos5 + 6cos^ J
If we multiply the first of these equations by -a, the second by
b, and the third by c, and add the resulting equations, we obtain
the formula i* + c' - o' = 26<;cos A or cos A = ^j- — , which gives
the cosine of an angle in terms of the sides. From this expression
forcos^thefonnulssinM= {^'"■*^'"'}*.cosM= j '^^ \ *.
tan J^ = } ^"Zf-a^"' i *•*''' ^ = I !^* " "^^^ " *^(' " ''! *■ "'^'"^ '
denotes J(o + 6 + c), can be deduced by means of thedimidiary formula.
From any general relation between the sides and angles of a
triangle other relations may be deduced by various methods of
transformation, of which we give two examples.
(o) In any general relation between the sines and cosines of the
angles A, B, C of a triangle we may substitute pA+qB'rrC,
rA+pB'r qC, qA + rB +pC for A, B, C respectively, where ;>, q, t
are any quantities such that p-t- q i-r-i-l is a positive or nega-
tive multiple of 6, provided that we change the signs of all the
sines. Suppose p + j+r + l=6n, then the sum of the three angles
2;ix - {pA +qB + rC), 2nx - (tA +pB + qCj, 2nr - {qA + rB + pC) is
r ; and, since the given relation follows frjni the condition A + B
+ C=r, we may substitute for A, B, C respectively any angles of
which the sum is r ; thus the transformation is admissible.
(/S) It may easily be shown that the sides and angles of the
Wangle formed by joining the feet of the perpendiculars from tlie
angular points A, B, Con the opposite sides of the triangle ABC
are respectivery a cos A, b cos B, c cos C,w-'2A, r - 2B, t -iC ; we
may therefore substitute these expressions for a, b, c, A, B, C re
spectively in any general formula. By drawing the perpendiculars
of this second triangle and joining their feet as before, we obtain a
triangle of which the sides are -a cos ./< cos 2.^4, - icos£cos2.S,
-ccosCcos2Cand the angles Ate iA - t, AB - w, iC - r ; we may
therefore substitute these expressions for the sides and angles of the
original triangle ; for example, we-obtain thus the formula
, . _ g' cos' A cos' 2A - b' cos' B cos' 2B-c' cos' Ccos' 2g
26<; cos £ cos Ccos 2B cos 2(7
Eolation This transformation obviously admits of further extension.
•ftri- (1) The three sides of a triangle y4£(7 being given, the angles
angles, can be determined by the formula
Ztan ^ =10 + J log {s -6) + J log (s-c)- 4 logs- Jlog(j-o)
and two corresponding fonnuljc for the other angles.
(2) The two sides a, b and the included angle C being given, the
tngles A, B can be determined from the formulse
A rB=7r-C,
£tanJ(^-B)= log(a-i)- log(a + J)+ tcot JC,
vnd the side c is then obtained from the formula
log c= log a + i sin C - i sin //.
(3) The two sides o, b and the angle A ^)eing given, the value of
'^£ may be found by mean, of the formula
£ sin £ = £ sin ^ + log 6 - log n ;
this gives two supplementary values of the angle B, if J sin A<a.:
If 6sin.<4>a there is no solution, and if A sin .4 = a there is one
solution. In the case 6 sin A<a, both values of B give solutions
provided b>a, but the acute value only of B is admissible if i<a.
The other side c can then be determined as in rase (2).
(4) If two .ingles A, B and a side a are given, the angle C is de-
termined from tlie formula C — r- A- B and the side 6 from th»
formula log 6= loga + Zsin B- LivnA.
The area of a triangle is half the product of a side into the per- Areas
pendicular from the opposite angle on that side ; thus we obtain of tri-
the expressions JJcsin/*, {.<s -o)(s- J)(s - c)| J for the area of a angles
triangle. A large collection of formula for the area of a triangle «"d
are given in the A^i-nals of Maihemalic3 for 1885 by M. Baker. quadri-
Let a, b, c, d denote the lengths of the sides AB, BC. CD, DA laterals,
respectively of any plane quadrilateral and .,4 4-C = 2o; we may
obtain an expression for the area S of the quadrilateral in terms of
the sides and the angle o.
We have 25'=arfsin A -f Scsin (2a - A)
and J(a'-K?-i'-c') =adcoaA -bcco3{ia- A);
hence 4S» <-i(a'-Kp- M - c^)= = a'd' + t'(^- 2a6M(cos2a.
If2s=o + i•^c■^rf, the value of 5 may be wTitten in the form
. S= {s(s - a){s - 6)(s - c){s - d) - aied cos^ a) *.
Let R denote the radius of the circumscribed circle, r of the in Radii of
scribed, and r,, r,, r, of the escribed circles of a triangle ABC; the circum-
values of these radii are given by the following formulae.
4S '^siliA'
o
r=-=(s-a) tanj y4 = 4/JsinJv4 sinJ^sinJC,
r, = =stanj /f = 47Isini A cos!) S cosi C.
scribed,
in-
scribed,
and
escribed
circles
of a tri>
angle.
Spherical Trijonometry.
We shall throughout assume such elementary propositions in
spherical geometry as are required for the purpose ol the investign.
tion of formula! given below.
A spherical triangle is the portion of the surface of a sphere Defini.'
bounded by three arcs of great circles of the sphere. If BC, CA, tion of
AB denote these arcs, the circular measure of the angles subtended spherical
by these arcs respectively at the centre of the sphere are the sides triangle.
a. *, c of the spherical triangle ABC ; and, if the portious of planes
pa-ssing through these arcs and the centre of the sphere be drawn,
the angles between the portions of planes intersecting at A, B, C
respectively .are the angles A, B, C of the spherical triangle. It is
not necessary to consider triangles in which a side is greater than r,
since we may replace such a side by the remaining arc of the great
circle to which it belongs. Since two great circles intersect each Assc
other in two points, there are eight triangles of which the sides are ciated
arcs of the same three gieat circles. If we consider one of these triaugle*
triangles ABC as the fundamental one, then one of the others
is equal in all respects to ABC, and the remaining six have each
one side equal to, or common with, a side of the triangle ABC, the
opposite angle equal to the corresponding angle of ABC, and the
other sides and angles supplementary to the corresponding sides
and angles of ABC. These triangles may be called the associated Transfo^
triangles of the fundamental one ABC. It follows that from any matioo.
general foTnula containing the .sides and angles of a spherical
triangle we may obtain other formula by replacing two sides and
the two angles opposite to them by their supplements, the remain-
ing side and the remaining angle being unaltered, for such formulse
are obtained by applying the given formulae to the associated
triangles.
If A',B,C are those poles of the arcs BC, CA, AB respectively
which lie upon the same sides of them as the opposite angles A, B, C,
then the triangle A'B'C is called the polar triangle of the triangle
ABC. The sides of the polar triangle are ir- A, ir - B, ir - C, and
the angles ir - a, ir - A, ir - c. Hence from any general formula
connecting the sides and angles of a spherical triangle we may ,
obtain another formula by changing each side
into the supplement of the opposite angle and
each angle into the supplement of the op-
posite side.
Let 0 be the centre of the sphere on which
is the spherical triangle ABC. Draw AL per-
pendicular to OC and AM perpendicular too^
the plane OBC. Then the projection of OA
on OB is the sum of the projections of OL,
LM, MA on the same straight line. Since Aif
has no projection on any straight line in the plane OBC^ this gives ancles.
OA cos c = OL cos a + LM sin a.
Now OL = OA cos 6, LM= A L cos C=OA sin J cos C ;
therefore cose = cosa cosA + sina sinA cosC.
We may obtain similar formulae by interchanging the letters a, h, e,
thus cos a = cos A COSC -f sin A sine cos .^ ^
cos A = COSC cos a 4- sine sin a cos £ I (1>
cosc=cosa cos A -f sin a sin A cosC
666
TRIGONOMETRY
[spherical.
These fonnuliE (1) may be re^rded as the fundamental equations
connecting the sides and angles oi a spherical triangle ; all the other
relations which we shall give below may be deduced analyticallY
from them ; we shall, however, in most cases give indepenaent proois.
By using the polar triangle transformation we have the formula
cos^ = -cos 5 cos C+sin B sin C cosa^j
cosB= -cosCcoS/4 +sin C sin A cost j- (2).
co3C= -cos^ cos ^ + sin ^ sin B cose J
In the figure wo have ^^ = j4i sin C=r sin i sinC, where r denotes
the radius of tho sphere. By drawing a perpendicular fronl A on
OB, we may in a similar manner show that AM~r sine sin B,
therefore sin i? sin c = sin C sin 6.
By interchanging the sides we have the equation
sin yi _sin 5_sin (7_, ,„,
sina sin6~sinc
we shall find below a symmetrical form for k.
If we eliminate cos 6 between the first two fonnulte of (1) we have
cos a sin-c = sin & sin c cos A -l- sin c cos c sin a cos i? ;
therefore cot a sin c=^ — cos^ + cos* cosB
sin a
= sin B cot ^ + cos c cos B,
We thus have the six equations
cot a sin 6 = cot .^ sin C+cos 6 cos C
cot 6 sin a = cot B sin C+ cos o cos C
cotisin (:=cot Bsin/4 + cos ccosyi 1 . .
cot c sin 6 = cot C sin ^ + cos 6 cos ..-i I ' '*
cot c sin'a = cot C sin B + cos a cos B
cot a sin 0= cot .<4 sin .5 + cos c cos B .
When C= ^ formula (1) gives
and (3) gives
from (4) we get
The formulas
and
..(7).
cos c=co3 acosJ (o),
sin 6 = sin i? sin c
sin rt = sin.^ sin c
tan a = tan A sin b = tan c cos B
tan 6 = tani?sino = tan ccosA
cos c = cot.^cotB U)
cosy4=cos asin£ j ,^,
cos B = cos 6sin^ i ^'
follow at once from (a), {;3), {y). These are the formula which are
used for the solution of right-angled triangles. Napier gave
mnemouical rules for remembering them.
The following proposition follows easily from tho theorem in
equation (3) : — If AD, BE, CFslk three arcs drawn through A, B,C
to meet the opposite sides in D, E, F respectively, and if these arcs
pass through a point, the segments of the sides satisfy the relation
Bin £Z) sin CEsin4F=sin CD sin A E sin BF; and conversely if this
relation is satisfied the arcs pass through a point. From this
theorem it follows that the tliree perpendiculars from the angles on
the 'opposite sides, the three bisectors of the
angles, and the three arc^ from the angles to
the middle points of the opposite sides, each
pass through a poibt.
Formulae KB be the point of intersection of the three
for sine bisectors of the angles y4, B, C, and if DE bo "
drawn perpendicular to BC, it may be shown „.* ^
that BE=Ha + c-b) and CE=i{a + b-c), ^ '
and that the angles BBE, ADC are supplementary We have
sine sin ADB sin i sin ADC , , . .A
therefore sin^^
and co-
sine of
half
aagles;
also
sinBD'
sin-
sin CD ~
sin BD sin CD sin CDE sin BDE
A
sin —
2
sin b sin c
i 1~ , and sin CD sin CDE= siu CE=sin
But sin 2Z) sin BDE =aia BE
a+b-c
1 there-
fore
. A
sin- =
i + b-c
sin 6 sine
(5).
Apply tills formula to the associated triangle of which t- A,
r- B, C ^re tho angles and w~n, tt - 6, c are the sides ; we obtain
b-t-c
the Tormuia cos -
By division we have
-sin •
a + b-fc ,
tan-^ =
sin b sin c
' b . a + b-e]
-^ sin — ^ —
..(6).
b + c-a
and by multiplication
sin b sin c
1
~aob sine
. n-yb + c . b + c-
s,n_^_sin-y-
a+b+c I
I . e + a-b . o+J-
■sin— 2— sin- ^
..(7),
1'
1 - cos' a - cos' 6 - cos' c -)- 2 cos o cos 6 cos c} i-
Hence the quantity k in (3) is
^ : — r — : — {1 -cos' a -cos' &.-cos'c-i-2 cos a cos 6 cosd' (8).
sinf5 sin c smr, '
Apply the polar triangle transformation to the formulse (5), (6), Of half-
(7), (8) and we obtain sides.
A+C-B A+B-C\i
2— "^—2— I
(3);
sin B sin C
B+C-A A+B+C
- cos -7 cos —
sin B sin C
:}'
(10),
B + C-
A A+B+C
■- cos =
A+C-B A+B-
cos g-
(U).
11 -cos'/}-cos'.S-cos'C-2eos.4cos£cosCli,
fcf = l.
.(12).
sin.<^siii£smC
we have
Let E be the middle point of AB ; draw ED at light angles to De-
.4 B to meet ./4 C in D; then DE bisects
the angle ..^ZlB. Let Ci^ bisect the angle
DCB and draw FO perpendicular to BC,
then
CO='^,^FBE = ^.
-^/'CO = 90''-?.
From the triangle CFO we have cos CFO '
= cos CO sin FCG, and from the triangle
FEB cos EFB -cos EB sin FBE. Now
the angles CFO, EFB are each supplementary to the angle DFB,
therefore
a-b C . A + B c -,,
• cos "2— cos 2= sin —^ cos ^ (13),
Also sin C{3=sin Cf sin CFO and siu EB = sv!\ Bf sin EFB ;
a-b
therefore
A-B
(14).
2 2 2
Apply the formula (13), (14) to the associated triangle of which
, IT - 6, ir - c, v4, IT - £, T - C are the sides and angles, we tJien hai-e
. n + b _ C A - B _
i + b . C
-2-^'"T^
.(15),
.(16).
therefore
cot ^ sin ■
The four formula (13), (14), (15), (16) were first given by Delambre
in the Ctmnaissance dcs Temps for 1808. Formulae equivalent to
these were given by Mollweide in Zach's Monatliche Corrcspmide-nz
for Noveinber 1808. They were also given by Gauss {Theoria motus,
1809), and are usually called after hira.
From the same figure we have
tan FO = Un FCO sin Cff = tan FBG sin BO ; Napier's
C . n-b A-B . a + b analogies
. 0^6
. A-B "" 2 C • ,,,,
Apply this formula to the associated triangle (,ir - a, b, -r - 1, v - A,
B, v-O, and we have
a + b
A+s '"'-r , c
•col-^- = — ^jtau^.
cos —^
A + B
. C
-b'^'f
MS).
If we apply these formulse (17), (18) to the polar triangle, we have
. A-B
A + B
.(19);
-A + b'^''2
,.(20).
The formulae (17), (18), (19), (20) are called Napier's "Analogiei''
they were given in the Mirif. logar. caTionis descriptio.
•PBEBICAL.]
TRIGONOMETRY
5G7
ScllID«i9-
If we use the values of sin j,
cos - given
formolB. ^^ '''' ^*'' *°'' *''® analogous formulffl obtained by interchanging
til* Ittteis, we obtain by multiplication
b . „ . c B + C-
SIU ; cos : Sin C=Sin 1 COS -
coSiCos- siuC=c(
2 2 2
. a . 6 . -, c • ^
sin. 3 sin = sin C=cos - cos -
2
A + B-
2 J
These foiroalse were given by Schmeisser in CrclU's Joum., vol. x.
Ca^oU*a The relation sin 6sinc + cos6cosccos-4 = sini?sin C- cos^cos Ccoso
fonoulae. was given by Cagnoli in his Trigonometry (1786), and was redis-
covered by Cayley (Phil. Mag., ISoS^ It follows from (1), (2),
and (3) thus : the right-hand side of the equation equals sin 5 sin C
+ coso(cos^-sin£sinCcosn) = siiLSsinCsin'o + cosacos/J, and this
is equal to sin 6sinc-f cos^ (cos a - sin 6 sine cos ^) or sinfc sinc +
cos b cos c cos A.
The formulae we have given are su65cient to determine three parts
of a triangle when the other three parts are given ; moreover such
formula may always be chosen as are adapted to logarithmic calcu-
lation. The solutions will be unique except in the two cases (1)
where two sides and the angle opposite one of them are the given
parts, and (2) where two angles and the side opposite one of them
are given.
Suppose a, b, A are the given parts. We determine B from the
formula sin 5=^ sin./<; this gives two supplementary values of
sino ° "^
B, one acute and the other obtuse. Then Cand c are determined from
SoIatioQ
of tri-
ingles ;
Ambigu*
oos cases.
(
the equations tan - -
a-b
A + B
i cot
A-B
tan| = -
A-B
tan -
2
I
2 2
C c
Now tan - , tan - must both be positive ; hence A-B and a~b must
have the same sign. We shall distinguish three cases. First,
suppose sin 6 < sin a ; then we have sin .^< sin A. Hence A lies be-
tween the two values of B, and therefore only one of these values
is admissible, the acute or the obtuse value according as a is greater
or less than b ; there is therefore in this case allvays one solution.
Secondly, if sin b > sin a, there is no solution when sin bsiu A> sin a ;
but if sin i sin ^< sin a there are two values of B both greater or
both less than A. If a is acute, 0-6, and therefore A - B, is
negative ; hence there are two solutions if ^ is acute and cone if A
is obtuse. These two solutions fall together if sin 6 sin .^4 = sin a.
If a is obtuse there is no soIutioD unless A is obtuse, and in that
ca.se there are two, which coincide as before if sin 6 sin ..4 = sin ir.
Hence in this case there are two solutions if sin bsin A ^sina and
the two parts A, a are both acute or both obtuse, these being coinci-
dent in case sin 6sin^ = siu a ; and there is no solution if one of the
two A, a is acute and the other obtuse, or if sin 6 sin ^ > sin a.
Thirdly, if sin 6 = sin a then B~A or v - A. If a is acute, a-ft is
zero or negative, hence A - B 13 zero or negative ; thus there is no
Bolution unless A is acute, and then there is one. Similarly, if a
is obtuse, A must '<>e so too in order that there may be a solution.
If a = &= T, there is no solution unless A = ^, and then there are an
infinite number of solutions, since the values of C and c become
indeterminate.
Theother case of ambiguity may be discussed in a similar manner.
or the different cases may be deduced from the above by the use of
the polar triangle transformation. The method of classification
>
according to the three cases sin6=sina was given by Professor
Lloyd Tanner (AMesseTiger 0/ Math., vol. xiv. ).
Radii of If r is the angular radius of the small circle inscribed in the
d n^ &% A
felated to ^"^''g'* ^BC, we have at once tan r = tan -j-sin (3-0), where
triangles. 23=a-¥b + c; from this we can derive the formulse
N A ^__B __C . ,_B_._C_A
1-2 sec 2" (21),
tanr
where n, A^ denote the expressions
jsin s sin (s - a) sin (s - {) sin (s - c)\ i,
|-cosScos(5-^)cos{S-B)cos(5-C)l}.
The escribed circles are the small circles inscribed in three of
the associated triangles ; thus, applying the above formuls to the
triangle (a, » - A, tt - c, yl, ir - 5, t - t7), we have for r„ the radius of
the escribed circle opposite to the angle A, the following formulce
, A . , , y A s c
tan r^ = tan .^ sin 5 = n cosec (5 - a) = ^-sec — cosec -=■ cosec ^
B C A
= sinocos 2 cos^sec = ' (22).
The pole of the circle circumscribing a triangle is that of the
circle inscribed in the polar triangle, and the radii of the two
circles are complementary ; hence, if R be the radius of the circum-
scribed circle of the triangle, and iSj, lU, R^ the radii of the circlea
circumscribing the associated triangles, we have by writing 5 ~ ^
for r,--Ri for T^, n- - o for A, &c., in the above formolae
<xiR=iioi^eo!i(S- A) = ^
tt b V ,. „
cosec = cosec t cosec ;;= — iVsec 3
be a ,..,
= sin .,4 cos ^ cos 5 cosec ,T (23)^
cotiJi= -cot -COS S=: cosec = sec5sec2=A'soc(5-iJ)
. ■ i ■ c a
i:s\nA sin 5 sin = cosec ^ (24).
The following relations follow from the formulae Just given :— ■
2 tanij =cotr, -hcotr3-l-cotr3-cotr,
2 tan iJj = cot r. -H cot Tj -<- cot r, - cot rj,
tan r tan rj tan r^ tan r^ = n*, sin- s = cot r tan r, tan n tan rj,
sin'-* {s-a) = tan r cot rj tan rg tan r^. '•'
11 E = A + B+C-v, it may b6 shown that £ multiplied by the Formula
square of the radius is the area of the triangle. We give somf of for
the more important expressions for the quantity E, which is ca.»e>i spherical
the spherical excess. excess.
A+B a+b . A+B a-b
cos— 2— cos -2-- sin— y- cos-2-
We havo 7^ — = and -; — = »
.6 c C c
='"(2- 2)
-"■"2
a-\-b
• and
/G E\ a-b
~H2-2J "^ —
hence
therefore
Similarly
C . /0-E\ c n-t-6
""2-"H~2~; cos^-cos-g-
. f . (C-E\
. E
tan-
cos 5 -k- COS
2'="' -2-
s-a .
a\h '
2
tan^tan^'^'^-^-ts
s-b
2 •
, - E { s s — a s — b s — e"]^ .*.
therefore tan - = ■( tan - tan — ^ tan — 5— tan -^ [■ (25)
This formula was .given by L'Huillier.
Also
. C E
sin ^ COS -2
a-{-b
C . E ~^-2-
-cos-|Sm^ = — s
COS
2
a-b
C E . C . E
cos2Cos-g-l-sin-sin2 =
whence, solving for COS —, we get
E 1 -^ cos a -f cos 6 -^ cos c
COS ^= r
2 , a 0 c
4 cos = COS ^ cos 5
This formula was given by Euler (Nova acta, vol. x.).
E
sin-5- &om this formola, we obtain after reduction
(26).
If we find
2 - o 6 c
2 coSg cos - cos -
a formula given by Lescell (Ada Pelrop., 1782).
From the equations (21), (22), (23), (21) we obtain the foUowina
formute for ihe spherical excess : —
E
sin' ^ = tan /J cot iJi oot R^cotR^
4(cot r, -h cot r. + cot r,)
(cot r - cot T-j + cot r2 -H cot r,) (cot 1- + cot r, - cot r, + cot rj)
(cot r + cot r, -H cot r, - cot r,)
The formula (26) may be expressed geometrically. Let AT, A^ba
the middle points of the sides AB, AC. Then we find cos Mlt
1 -t- cos a -^ cos 6 -1 cos c , E „,, i
= T ; hence cos - = cos i/jV sec ^
4 cos 5 cos ^
'2'
A geometrical 'Construction has been given for E by (judermano
(in CrclU's Joum., vi. and viii. ). It has been shown by Cornelius
Keogh that the volume of the parallelepiped of which the radii of
568
TJRIGONOMETRY
Proper-
ties of
epfaerical
quadri-
lateral
inscribed
in small
circle.
the sphere passing through the middle paints of the sides of the
triangle are edges is sin - .
Let ABCD be a spherical quadrilateral inscribed in a small circle ;
let a, b, c, d denote the sides A£, BC, CD, DA respectively, and
X, y the diagonals AC, BD. It can easily be shown by joining the
angiUar points of the quadrilateral to the pole of the circle that
A + C=B + D. If we use the last expression in (23) for the radii
of^e circles circumscribing the triangles BAD, BCD, we have
[ahalvtiCai.
whence
. .ad y
sin A cos 2 cos s cosec |
sin^
= sin C cos 5 cos ^ cosee ^ ;
sin C
~ a d'
cos 2 cos ^
This is the proposition corresponding to the relation A + C=ir for a
plane quadiilateraL Also we obtain in a similar manner the theorem
sin B cos -
Sin A cos ^
' analogous to the theorem for a plane quadrilateral, that the diagonals
are proportional to the sines of the angles opposite to theuL Also the
chords AB, BC, CD, DA are equal to 2 sin |. 2 sin -, 2 sin s. 2 sin ^
' respectively, and the plane quadrilateral formed by these chords is
' inscribed in the same circle as the spherical quadrilateral ; hence
by Ptolemy's theorem for a plane quadrilateral we obtain the
analogous theorem for a spherical one
■ ^ ■ y
sin J sm 1 =
. a . c . b . d
am 2 sm 2 ■•- sin ^ sm ^.
Periodi-
city of
functions,
Connex-
ion with
theory of
complex
quanti-
tiea.
It has been shown by Remy (in Crelle's Joum., vol. iii.) that for
/ any quadrilateral, if z be the sphericai distance between the middle
pomts of the diagonals,
cos a + cos 6 + COSC + cos rf = 4 cos Ja: C05 Jy cos ^z.
This theorem is analogous to the theorem for any plane quadri-
lateral, that the sum of the squares of the sides is equal to the sum
of the squares of the diagonals, together with twice the square on
the straight line joining the middle points of the diagonals.
A theorem for a right-angled spherical triangle, analogous to the
Pythagorean theorem, has been given by Guaermann (in Crelle's
Joum.t vol. xUi.).
Analytical Trigaruymelry.
Analytical trigonometry is that branch of mathematical analysis
in which the-aoalytical properties of the trigonometrical functions
are investigated. These functions derive their importance in ana-
lysis from the fact that they are the simplest singly periodic
functions, and are therefore adapted to the representation of undu-
lating magnitude. The sine, cosine, secant, and cosecant have the
single real period 2ir ; i.e., each is unaltered in value by the addi-
tion of 2-ir to the variable. The tangent and cotangent have the
period V. The sine, tangent, cosecant, and cotangent belong to
the class of odd functions ; that is, they change sign when the sign
of the variable is changed. The cosine and secant are even func-
tions, since they remain unaltered when the sign of the variable is
reversed.
The theory of the trigonometrical, functions is intimately con-
nected with that of complex quantities,— that is, of quantities of
the form a: + iy (»= V - 1). Suppose we multiply together, by the
rules of ordinary algebra, two such quantities, we have
We observe that the real part and the real factor of the imaginary
part of the expression on the right hand side of this equation are
similar in form to the expressions which occur in the addition
formulce for the cosine and sine of the sum of two angles ; in fact,
if we put Xj = r, cos^,, y^ = r^Q\nO^ x^ = T,^coid^ y, = r,sind^ tho
above equatioD becomes
rjtcosfl, -n sm^i) x rgtcos^j-t-t sin ^,) = r,rj(co8^, -f ^j + tsin fl, -f ^3).
We may now, in accordance with the usual mode of representing
complex quantities, give a geometrical interpretation of the meaning
of this equation. Let /*, be the point whose coordinates referred
to rectangular axes (91, Oy a.Ttx^,y^; then the point/*, is employed
lo represent the quantity x, + »yi In this mode of representation
real quimtities are measured along the axis of x ana imaginary
ones along the axis of 1/, additions being performed according to the
parallelogram law The points ^,-4, represent the magnitudes il,
the points a,ay the magnitudes ±1. Let Pj represent the expression
X3 + 11/3 and F the expression (J^ + •y|)(x3-*-(y2)- The quantities
r|,^j,r,,tf, are the polar coordinates of /*, and P^ respectively referred
to 0 as origin and Ox as initial line; the above equation shoTi^
that T.^^r^ and tf, + ^3 are the polar coordinates of P ; nence OA
.OPi-.-.OP^-.OP and the angle POPy is equal to the angle
P^OA. Thus we havo the following geometrical construc-
tion for the determination of tho point/*. On O/^ dnnv
a triangle similar to the triangle OAP^ so that the sides
OP^ OP are homologous to the aides OA, OP, and so
that the angle POP^ is positive ; theu the vertex P
represents the product of the expressions represented
by Pi.P^. If X2 + ty2 were to be divided >
by 3^1 + 1^1, the triangle OFP^ would be
drawn on the negative side of P^ similar
to the triangle OAP^ and having the sides
OF, OP^ homologous to OA, OP, and P
would represent the quotient.
If we extend the above to n complex
quantities by continual repeti-
tion of a similar operation, we — ~f
have —
{cos dy -i- 1 sin 0^) (cos 0, -1- * sin ^j) , . .
(cosff„ + tsintf„)
= cos(^j -t-^j-f ... -t-^„)-*-tsin(^, -t-^3-1- ...
If ^, = ^2=... =dn^&^, this equation becomes (cos fl-i-isin fl)'*=3
cos wfl + 1 sin 71^ ; this shows that cos 5 -t- 1 siu 0 is a value of (cos nO +
1 0 9 d
isinn5)i If now we change 6 into -, we see that cos - -)- 1 sin - is a
J*' ?i n n
value of (cosfl-(-tsinfl)" , raising each of these quantities to any 1
positive integral power m, cos — -t-tsin — is one value of (cos tf
Fig. 8.
+ »sinff)'*. Also
os(-^)«..sin(-'^*)
-e
hence the
1
expression of the
cos— ff-htsm -
n n
l^ft-haod side is one value of
(cos ^ -f t sin P)"^/" or of (cos 5 + t sin 0) " « . We have thus De Moivre's
theorem that cost^ + ie,\nkd is always one value of (cos ^ + * sin C)*,
where k is any real quantity.
The principal object of De Moivre's theorem is to enable ua to The n
. - v roots of I
find all the values of an expression of the form (a + ifi)". where "» complex
and n ^ire^ positive integers prime to each other If a = rcos^, qm^^jji^^
h = Ts\uO, we require the values of r" (cos fl + isinfl)". One value ia
immediately furnished by the theorem , but we observe that, since
the expression cosd + tsintf is unaltered by adding any multiple of
m 6 + 2siT
m.6 + 2sir^
is a + 1&,
2irto6, the -th power of r"fc
if 8 is any integer ; hence this expression is one of the values re-
ny I
Su
quired. Suppose that for two values s, and s^ of s the values of this
expression are the same , then we must have
m.e-^ 23iir m.0 + 2JaT
a multiple of 2n- or s, - a^ must be a multiple of n. Therefore, if we
give s the values 0. 1, 2, . . , n - 1 successively, we shall get n differ-
ent values of (a + 1&)" , and these' will be repeated if we give s other
values
the values 0,
hence all the values of (a-hti)" are obtained by giving i
-/ m.e + 2sv
r" I cos — • —
\ n
1 , 2, ... n - 1 in the expression
m. 0 +2sTr
). where r= (a^ + 6')i and 6 = &rc tan
We now return to the genmetrical representation of th«
complex quantities. If the points B^, B^ B^, - . . B„ repre-
sent the expression x-Hiy, (x + ty)^ (x-»- ly)^, . . (x-h ty)"
respectively, the triangles OAB^, OB^J.^,. OB„_jB^
are all similar Let {x + iy)'' = a + ib, then the con
verse problem of finding the nth root of a + *6 u
equivalent to the geometrical problem of describ-
ing such a series of triangles tiat OA is the first ,
side of the first triangle and
0B„ the second side of the
«th. Now it is obvious that
this geometrical problem has
more solutions than one.
since any number of com-
plete revolutions round 0
may be made in travelling
from Bt to B„. The first
solution is that in which the
vertical angle of each triangle
is -BOA ; the second is that in which each is -{^»0A'¥2T\m
n n .
< this case one complete revolution being made rouud 0; the tUld
Fig 9.
AHALVnCAL.]
TRIGONOMETRY
569
1,,
Fig. 10.
haa -i,SnO A + ir) for the vertical aogle of each triangle; and so
n
on. There are n sets of triangles which satisfy the required condi-
tions. For simplicity we will take the
case of the determinatiou of the values
of (cos fl + 1 sin *)i Suppose £ to re- '/'
present the expression cos tf -n sin tf . />,,
If the angle AOP, is Jfl, P, represents r
ff A
the ro<^t cos 5 -hi sin r ; the angle .^ 05
Is filled up by the angles of the three
similar tnangles AOPi, P^Op^, p^OB.
Also, if ij, /j ba«nch that the angles
PiOP^ PiOP, are j, -^ respectively,
the two sets of triangles AOP^ P%Opp
PfOB and AOP^ P^Op^ pfiB satisfy the conditions of simi-
larity and of having OA, OB for the bounding sides ; thus P,,
_ ,, e+iw . . e+iT e+4T . »-H4ir
Pj represent the roots cos — = V « sin — ^ — , cos —= h i sm — r—
respectively. If B coincides with A, the problem is reduced to
that of finding the three cube roots of unity. One will be repre-
sented by A and the others by the two angular points of an equi-
lateral triangle, with A as one angular point, inscribed in the circle.
The nth The problem of determining the values of the nth roots of unity
toots of is equivalent to the geometrical problem of inscribing a regular
unity. polygon of n sides in a circle. Gauss has shown in his Disquisi-
tiones arithineticx that this can always be done by the compass
and ruler only when n is a prime of the form 2' + 1. The determina-
tion of the nth root of any complex quantity requires in addition,
for its geometrical solution, the division of an angle into n equal
parts.
We are now in a position to factorize an eipression of the form
e" - (a -^ i6). Using the values which we have obtained above for
Factorii'
fttions-
(o-hii)", we have-
s=a- If
tf-{a+ib) = P
If &=0, a=l, this becomes
l.J{
S + 2ST . S-(-2sr
cos Htsin
^)]
..(1).
_ 1 °S"'^r 2sTr . 2sTr-\
xf-\ = P a - cos 1 sm —
,=0 L n n J
= (x-l){x + \)P li-cos- — iisin- — 1
s=i V 1 n J
=:{x-l){,x + l)P^~ ('a:»-2xcos — -^lVBeven)(2).
«=l \ n /
«"-l = (r-l)P ^ (x'-2xms^ + l\ (n odd) ..
If in (1) we pnfro= - 1, 6 = 0, and therefore ^ = ir, we have
■r S+it . 2JTT>rT
I X - cos 1 sm I
L n n J
(3).
<=n-lr
af.+ l=P
1=0
= P
»=0
D
^.2xcc,?i±^+l
]
(n even)
■m
zr + l=(x+i)p'^^^ p--2a;cos?— -n] (nodd)(5).
Also I*" - Sa^' cos ?
9 + y-'
= (x^-y"coanB + is\a.n9){X"- y' cos Titf - 1 sintig)
(-
y cos iisin
= /"" r^-Za/cose+ — +y'''\
-2^r\
-iei.
Airy and Adams have given proofs of this theorem which do not
involve the use of the symbol . (see Camb. Phil. Trans., vol. xl).
A large number of interciting theorems may be derived from De
Moivres theorem and the factorizations which we have deduced
from -.t i we shall notice one of them.
ciample In equation (6) put y = i, uke logarithms, and then differentiate
of JJe V ij - 1
Moivre's *"° "'"« '""> respect to r, and we get
theorem. _2n(^«-'-r-S"-i) ^="-> 2(1 -r-»)
n(a'" - i'")
(a- - b°) {a'" - 2a"4""cos'nfl"+^'")
for the sum of the series
5=n-l 1
«=»-2cosn«-i-ar2"
»=n-l
= 2
«=0
Potx'cj, then we have the expression
2sTr
x'-2cosOi- — +ar«
entiab.
'^ a' -2ab cos e■^'—■^■b^
n
We shall now consider what meaning can be assigned to the Complex
symbol «'+'». The quantity e is defined as the limit of fl •^ -Y J""^"'
wher^ n is a positive quantity, and is increased indefinitely ; then, expon-
foi a real value of i, e* is the limit of (1 1-^"" or o((\+ -\" ,'
where in = na;, when m is increased indefinitely; We may defin«
c'+'!' as the limit of ^1 -.- -^ j when m is increased indefinitely.
To determine the value of this limit put l-t- — = rcosg^=Tslntf•
m m '
then <*"•■'» is the limit of r°'(cos m» -n sin jn#), and r" is equal to
j 1 + — + ^3- j 2 or ultimately to (l -h ^) 2 , which has e' fbr
its limiting value. Also 6 is arc tan — =^ or — ^ in the limit ■
x+m x+m '
hence mS is ultimately equal to y, and thus the equation
«'+'!' = «'(cosy-i-i sin y) follows from our definition. It may be
shown at once that «''^'!'x(r'i-^'Vi = ei+^+'to+ji)^and, if we suppose
that o^'"'''' denotes eC'-^'^noga ^.^ ^^y ^jj^^ ^j^^ complex expon-
ents defined thus obey the same laws as real ones.
When the exponent is entirely imaginary we have, in accordance Expon.
with the above definition, ential
e"' = cos 1/ -K sin y aud « " '9 = cos ( -y) + .sin( - y) = cosy- 1 sin y ; values of
we thus obtain the exponential values of the sine and cosine sine and
1 , .1, -,t,. I'^i, „. cosine.
ainy^^y^-e '"), cosy = -.<•!'-(.<-■!').
If we give imaginary- or complex values to the variables in alge- Expan-
braical expansions we obtain analogous trigonometrical theorems ; sions o'
it is, however, necessary to consider the convergency of the series sines
so obtained in order to determine within what limits the values of and
the variables must lie. If we expand «■» and e''S by putting ly cosinea
J • ». . , y' y* and their
and - .y in the senes 1 + y + j^ + ^^^ *■■■ powers.
weobtain the series sin y=y--^-Hr^ -r^ -,.. .. ;
i_ LL LL
These series are convergent for all finite values of y. They may
also be got from the expressions which we have obtained for the
cosine and sine of a multiple of an angle in terms of the cosine and
sine of the angle, and would thus be made to rest upon a basis '
independent of the symbol (.
Consider the binomial theorem expan-
sion of
powers
of sines
and co-
Putting a = e'», 6 =«-'», we obtain 'j"" "',
° ' ' . senes of
(2co3 9)" = 2cosn9-Hn2cosn-2e-l-^i2-^'2coaK,-4»-(. ... ^ sines and
nin-l) . . . (n-T+l)
+ - —r^ -coa{n-2r)e+...
When n is odd the last term is ^"("-l)- • ■ 4(" + 3) ^^^ ^
|i("- 1)
and when n is even it is "(''-')---(4''+,l)
IJn
If we put a=e'*, i= -e-"*, we obtain the formula
n
(-I)-(2sin«)" = 2co3n9-2ncos(n-2)«-h'^"-^^2cos(n-4)9- ..
.(-l)"-^^"-^>-7'"-'-^'Wn-2r)<>....(-l)^;!<±M!L±lJ
l_ I in
when n is even, and
n-l
(-1) 2 (2sin»)"=2sin7i»-n.2sin{n-2)«-H5^p^'2sinfn-4)»...
(a-^6)»=o"+na"-'6■^^^^J-l'a»-^JJ^. , _
n(n-l). . . (n-r-Hl)
' rr
afl-rjr^ ... +J".
ccsinesof
ITttltiple
+ (-1)
-=sinff
23—21*
n-l
J- n(njJj^^J{n+_3)^
liC"-!)
when n is odd. These formulae enable us to express any positive
integral power of the sine or cosine in terms of sines or cosines of
multiples of the argument. There are corresponding formulse wheD
n is not a positive integer.
xxm. — 72
570
TRIGONOMETRY
[AMALmCAU
lExpan- ConsiderthBidentitylog(l-px) + log(l-?3:) = log(l-p + ?i + p?x=).
eion of Expand both sides of this equation in powers of x, and equate the
'aId«s and coefficients of x", we then get
'"""■ , ,n(n-r-l)rn-r-2)...(a-2r+l), ,„ ^ , ,
jcwereof +(-1) -^ j — —^ -'Qj + g)»-V« +■••
;aies and 'J-—
■ «smas of If we write this series in the reverse order, we have
,p"+«"=2(-l)2[_(p?)2--|-(;<})2 (^j +-L-—'(j,q)- (^-^ j
\trhen n is even, and
when n is odd. If in these three formula! we putp=c'*, g = «"'',
we obtain the following series for cosnS : —
2 cos nfl = (2 cos «)■■ - »i(2 cos 9)"-* + '-^^^7^2 cos «)»-< - . . .
+ (-ir"'"-"-"'"-Y/'-'"~^'-^"(2cos9)->-.-.(7)
when n is any positive integer ;
( - 1 )2 cos n« = 1 - ,-s- cos'fl + — ^-; ' COS'S - ~ ^i' ' "'^^
* ' I 2 14 to
n
+ ... +(-l)52'-'cos"9 (8)
wlien n is an even positive integer ;
^ n(Ti«-12) n(«' - I2)(jt« - 3=) .,
(-1) * C0Snfl = rtC0SKfl- j-3— C0S'9+ Tg cosff-
..+(-1) '^ 2«-'cos"9 (9)
when n is odd. If in the same three formula we put p=e'', 7=
-«*'*, we obtain the following four formula : —
n
{-\)h cos nd = i2 sin 6)'* ~ n{2 sin tf)"-^ + "^""^^2 sin ff)""^ - . . .
+(-!)'"<"-'- "■-'"-^'-')(2sinflj"--^+...(«even)(lQ);
n-J
(-1) ^ 2 sin n9 = the same series (ji odd) (U);
co3Jifl = l -rs-s"! *+ -T^; -'sin** i -£■ 'em'a
Li l_i 1-1
+ ... +2"-' sin"a (n even) (12) ;
(•inn9=nsinfl--V5 — 'sin'9+-i rr 'sin' 9- ...
n -i
+ (-1) ' 2"-' sin" 9(71 odd).
..(13).
Next consider the identity .
P-Q
l-px l-qx l-(j> + q)x+pqx'
' Expand both sides of this equation in powers of x, and equate the
coefficients of x"~\ then we obtain the equation
^•^" = (;> + ?)"-'-(n-2)tp+9)"-';.j + <i^^i^|:zl'(;, + j)n-»p=j»....
If, as before, we write this in the reverse order, we have the series
(.:)^■[„(^^)(^)^^!f(!^(p±5)V)i-'
when n is even, and.
l^vbcn n is odd.
Uf we iiut^=c*^ g-£-^^^ wo obtain the fonnula
sm7itf = sin« j (2cos^)-' - {n- 2K2costf)'-' + ^-l-?^5^^'{2costf)—
(n-r-l)(n-r-2)...(n-2.),,^^^,j..^.. ^ | „,,_
n(n«-2=)(n'-4')
where n is any positive integer .
{-!)" Ein!i9 = sin9 ] TWOS* r-5— cos'O*^^^^^ — ^^-^ — ^cos'9-. .
+ (-I)^ (2cos«)"-' j (neven) (15) i.
( - u'^'sin^O^sinO j 1 - iiliLJ'cos'g^'"'- ''g^ ' ^\os'0- . .
n_.
+ (-1)^ (2cose)»->}(iiodd) {16X
If we put in the same three formulaep=e'^ }= - e "'*, we obtain th»
series ."
n-i
(-1) - sinng=cos9rsin"-'9-(K-2)5in-3g + ^""Y^"^^sin»-»g-...
h(-l}'
(;i-r-l)(it-r-2)...(?l-2r) ,
I--
-''-'e+ ...1(acven)(l7)|
n-l
cos nd = cos $
-'sin's -
(-1) cos n9= the same series ()i odd) (18)1
■ „ „l • „ «(«^-2=)i„ n(R2-2^)(n2-4') . ,„
sin 7i9 = cosfi i n sin 9 - -i— 7-= — ^^sin'9 + -^ pT -sin'* +
' l-2_ '_
n
... + (-1)^ (2 sine)"-' I (n even) (19)j
{i-"-i^W..lii!^^^'=:
+ (2 sine)"-*} (71 odd) -..(20). ^
We have thus obtained forraulffi for co5 nO and sinnB both \
ascending and in descending powers of cos 6 and sin 6. Viete ob-
tained formula for chords of multiplo arcs in powers of chords of
the simple or complementary arcs equivalent to the formulae (13)
and (19) above. These are tontained in his work Theoreviata ad
angidarcs scciioncs. James Bcinoulli found formula equivalent to
(12) and (13) {Mim.de V Acadcmie des Sciences, 1702), and trans
formed these series into a form equivalent to (10) and (11), John
Bernoulli published in the Acta eruditorum for 1701, among other
formulae already found by Viete, one eouivalent to (17). These
formulae have been extended to cases m which n is fractional, nega-
tive, or irrational ; see a paper by D. F- Gregory in Camh. Math.
Jaicni.^ vol. iv. , in which the series for cos nB, sin nd in ascending
powers of cos 6 and sin 6 are estendod to the case of a fractional
vahie of Ti. These series have been considered by EulcT in a
memoir in the A^ova acta, vol. ix., by Lagrange in his Calcul des
fonclions (1806), and by Poinsot in Itccherchcs sur Vanalyse des sec-
tions angidaircs (1825).
The general definition of Napierian logarithms is that, if €^"*'*I' Theory
= a f-ti, theui + ty = log(a + (6). Now wc know that e^'*"*^ = c'cosy °^ ^°6**
+ te^siny; hence e^ cos y = a, c* sin y = b, or e^ = (a^ + tr^)K V- "^^'"*'
arc tan - ±mT, where m is an integer. If 6 = 0, then m must ho
even or odd according as a is positive or negative ; hence
loge (a + t&) = loge (a2 + 6-)i+( (arc tan -i:2n?r)
or loge (o + (&) = log, (a^ + fc-)i + ( (arc tan -±2u + 7r),
according as a is positive or negative. Thus the logarithm of any
complex or real quantity is a multiple-valued function, the differ-
ence between, successive values being 'lin , in particular, the most
general form of the logarithm of a real positive quantity isiobtained
by adding positive or negative multiples of 2jrt to the arithmetical
logarithm. On this subject, see De Morgan's TriguJioinelry arid
Double Algebra^ chap, iv,, and a paper by Prof. Cayley in vol. IL
of Proc. London Math, Soc.
Wo may suppose the exponential values of the sine and cosine Hyper-
extended to the case of complex arguments ; thus we accept bolic
cHi+iy) + g - t(x+iy) gt{z+ty) _ g - t(i+ijl) trigODO-
2 ^"^ 9 ^ ^'*® definitions of the nietrv
functions cos {x + ty\ sin (x + iy) respectively. If i = 0, we bave,
gV + e'V t c^ + f"*"
co8iy= — - — and sm ty = ^{c^ - e ' '"). The quantities — —^^
— -^ — ^ro called the hyperbolic cosmc and sine of t; and ar«
written coshVi sinh y ; thus cosh 7/ = cost?/, sinh y~ - i sin ty. Tho.
functions cosh J/, sinh y arc connected with the rectangular hyperbola
in a maimer analogous to that in which the cosine and sine art
;'anal1['tical.]
TRIGONOMETRY
571
Gipao-
tiioDofan
angle in
powers of
113 sine.
tonnected with the circle. We may easily show from the definitions
\lhal
cos-(x+iy) + sin'(i + ly) = 1 ,
cosIi^y-sinh-y = l ;
cos(r + ly) = cos x cosh y - i sin x sinh y,
sin(i + ty) = sm i cosh y + 1 cos t sinli y,
cosh{a + ^)=cosh a cosh|8 + smh o sinh/3,
sinh(a + /3) =sinha cosh ^- cosh o s\nh(3.
These formula are ihe basis of a complete hyperbolic trigonometry.
The connexion of these functions with the hyperbola was first
pointed out by Lambert
If we equate the coefficients of n on both sides of equation (13),
"'S'^' , 1 Rin'« l.Ssin'e 1 3.5sin'9
2 3 2.4
2 4 6
6 must lie lietween the values ± x. This equatiolT may also be
written in the form
arc sinx = a' + :
]i» 1.3»» l.S.'ii'
23 2.4 5 2.4.6 7
when X lies between ±1.
By equating the coefficients of n"^ on both sides of equation (12)
we get
,„ 2sin'9 2.4sin«e 2 , 4 . 6 sin««
= ''"'<'*3— *3-5 -^^3T57f-l- + -
.(22).
which may also be written in the form
„ , 2 a^ 2 . 4 x«
(arcsinx)= = i^ + g - +— -
■Gregory's
<eries.
2.4.6 i»
^3T0 7*--
when z is between ±1. Differentiating this equation with regard
to X, we get
^sinj_ 2. 2.4 2.4.6^
Vl-^~'"^8'^'^3.5^"^3.5.7 ■*■■••'
if we put arc sin j: = arc tan y, this equation becomes
.rcUn»=,-^!l+?-A + H(Ay + -| (23).
1+yM 31+y^ 3.6\l+y'/ j
This equation was given with two proofs by Euler in the Kova acta
for 1793. , , J , ,
,,, , 1, l+i I* aH> a;'
We have -log j_=z+ 3 + -4-^ + . .. ,
put <y for X, the left side then becomes }{Iog(l +iy)-logy -<y)l
or tarctany±tnir , j j 7
hence arc tany±7tir = y-^ + ^-^ +
" "357
Thcscriesisconvergent if y lies between ±1; if we suppose arc tan y
restricted to values between ±- we have
4
3 6""""
•f24),
arc tan y = y
which is Gregory*s series.
feriosfor ^^^ious series derived from (24) have been employed to calculate
ealcnb. "'^ ''^'"'^ °^ ' ^^ "'^ *"'' °^ ""^ '''*' cfi>tury ir was calculated
'tkioofT *" ^2 places of decimals by Abraham Sharp, by means of the
6'
y=-7= in (24) The cal-
V3
series obtained by putting arc tan y =
culation is to be found in Sherwin's Mathematical Tables (1742).
About the same time Jlachin employed the series obtained from
the equation 4 arc tan ^ -arc tan ^05 = ; '" calculate tt to 100 de-
cimal places. Long afterwards Euler employed the scries obtained
from -,=3.K tan^ + arctanT, which, however, gives less rapidly con-
verging series (Iiitrod., Anal, infin., vol. i. ). Lagny employed the
formula arc tan — = ^ to calculate ir to 127 places ; the result was
communicated to the Pans Academy in 1719. Vega calculated ir
to 140 decimal places by means of the series obtained from the
equation J = 5 arc tan = -t- 2 arc tan — . The formula 7 = arc tan J -f
\ ^ \ * ly 4 2
srctanr-i-arctang was used by Dase to calculate ir to 200 decimal
places. Rutherford used the equation » = 4 arc tan = - arc tan ^ -(•
•"='^"9-9- , J
If in (23) we put 1/=; and =, we have
-=8.rctan^ + 4arcUnl = 2-4!j+|.A + |-^±^...}
a rapidly convergent series for n which was first given by Button
i»M *''i?^i^'""'- '^'*' ^"'' afterwards by Eider in Nova acta for
1793. Euler gives an equation deduced in the same manner from
the identitv 1
1 3
= 20 arc tan J -H 8 arc tan ^. The calculation of x has
bew carried out to 707 places of decimais , see Proc. Hoy. Soe., ixL
»na xxii ; also Squabino the Cikcle (vol. xxii. p. 435 sg.).
We shall now obtain expressions for sin a) and cos a: as infinite Ftctont
products of rational factors. We have ation of
t,.x.x+jr,.x.x + ir x*2ti x■^3» tine rad
sini = 2sin .^ sin — jr- =2' sin ■; sin —r- sm ■ — sin — ; — .
2 2 4 4 4 4 ^ coiiDC
proceeding continually in this way with each factor, we ob'air.
„ , X. x + ir x+2t ,a*«-lir
sinx = 2 ' sm - sin sin . . . sin— .
n »l Tl n
where n is any positive integral power of 2. Now
.x4-nr. x + «-nr l + rir rir-x ,Mr .«
Sin — ' — sm =sin sin =sin' sm* -,
and
x + htir 3
Sin — - — = cos -
Hence the above may be written
<iinx=2 sin -I sin' - -sin'- || sin' sii - J
n\ n n/\ n uj
I . .kir ,x\ X
I sin' sin' - I cos-,
\ n n J n
where k = \n-\. Let x be indefinitely small, then "e have
2"" . ,ir . 27r . „tir
1 = sin' - sin' — ... sin' — ,
n n 71 n
hence
. X xf, 6in-x/n\/, sin'x/n \ /, sin'r/nN
siDX = Jtsm - cos -I 1 T-y- I 1 - .,n ■••('■• — 5T-r i
We may write this
. X
sinx=)>sin- cos-
where R denotes the product
ii\ sin-ir/u/ "\ 6in-mjr;i/ '
1 -■
sin-
1--
,711 -I- 2t
1-
. „krr
sin- —
and rti is any fi,xed integer independent of n. It is necessary, whCB
we make n infinite, to determiue the limiting value of the quantity
R; then, since the limit of is , and that 0/
■ T y T
sin rmrtn .
; — IS unity, we have
mir/?i •'
^'=0-~')0-24)-0-.-^'>_
Now R is less than unity, since sin - is less than sin , sin
n n
; also by an elementary algebraical proposition R is greater
sc' — 1 and cosec 6<^it
«i-H2ir
than 1 - sin
5(c
fl < r ; iJ is therefore greater than
IVto-HI' m-H2"|' ■ i-'/'
orthan 1 -i?( 1- -L- .-_!_- -L. ... .J_ .U.
or than 1 - — . Hence /J = 1 - — , where 5 is some proper fraction i
whence
— .0-^0(-24)-0-;;^00-:-|)
When m is indefinitely increased this becomes
sinx=x(l-^)(l-^,)...=xr^"(l.£),25,.
The expression for cos x in factors may be found in a similar manner
by means of the equation co3x=2sin'^~^cos ^~ ,ormay b*
flRilnrpd t.hiifl ' *
sin 2x
i^-^)
2sinx
0-^)0 -1^)0 -a-
■(26X
" = +"/ 2x \
= P (l-t- )
If we change x into ix, we have the formuloe for sinh x, cosh x w
infinite products —
n = a , -3.. n = m , i-S ,
Binhx=xP (l-h^^"), coshx=P (1+ -).
n=0 V ""W' „=o V 271-fllM/
In the formula for sin x as an infinite product. put x==, we then
getl
I 1.3.3.5.5...
; if we stop after 27t factors in the numer-
2"2.2.4.4.
ator and denominator, we obtain the approximate equation
1'.3'. 6'...(2)i-l)'
1 =
% t?:4?.^7
(2n)'
.(2»»-H)
572
<lT^'t'l"'2^Zi = '^'^' "•>"« " •= ' ^"^ integer. This ex-
pression was' obtained in a quite different manner by Wallis {^ri(A-
metica ivfihitorum, voL E of 0pp.).
Series for We have ,^+yip(i+'JJl)
eotjCoseo, sin(a;+y)_ \ ^""^ /
Uo,and sin^t ^p(i + i\
or C03 y + sin y cot x
Equating the coefficients of the first power of y on both sides we
obtain the series
..(27).
TRIGONOMETRY
[aNALYTICAIi
1
cots=-
1
1
1
I From this we may deduce a corresponding series for cosec x, for, since
-cotx, W8 obtain
1 11 1 1
cosec a = cot;
1 1
cosecz= -
* ar + ir
1 1
r*x+2-i X-2ir'
-3t
+ ...(28).
By resolving
' " cos X
manner the series
2. 2 ,
tan2= \-^ —
^^ -IT -22 ir + 2a! Sir
and. thence
C03(a;+y) ^^ factors we should obtain in a similar
"3ir + 2a; 6ir-2a; 6)r + 2s
2.2 2
..(29),
/w x\ , 2 , 2 V.
:CX = tan^|+2J-tans! = ^:;:^ + ^;q:2i"3^-2x
3jr + 2a5
..(30>
These fonr formulae may also be derived from the product formula
for sin a; and cose by takina logarithms and then differentiating.
. . cosx
Glaisher has proved them by resolviDg the expressions for ^^
and - ... as products into partial fractions (see Qtiart. Joum.
sinz ' ' ,.,...
Math,, vol zvii.). The series for cot a: may also be obtained by a
\f X ,3; + -"
continued use of the equation coti = .jl <^°.'2 '*' *^° "2
by Dr Schroter in Schlomilch's Heitschri/t, vol. xiii. ).
Series for Various series for ir may be derived from the series (27), (28), (29),
rderived (30), and from the series obtained by differentiating them one or more
torn times. Tor example, in the formulse (27) and (28), by putting
•^<«'"a:=Tweeet
cot and n
cot ^ + cot^-^ Usee a paper
,=7itan-|l-^^j+^^j-2j^-
ir = «sin - \ 1
,__ 1
l"re + l
if we put 71 = 3, these become
.=3V3(l-^
3n/3/, 111
1
2« + l'
1
}•
1 1 1
3V3/
' 2 V
By differentiating (27) we get
i+2-r5'
1 1
7 + 8-
)
1
7? •^ (s - ir)^ "^ (x -I 2)T-)-' "^ (X - 2ir)» "^ ■ ■ • '
i:nta:=;, and we get 7r'=9| 1 + ^-3+ jTj+ jjj+ ■■ J
These series, among others, were given by Glaisher {Quart. Joum.
Math., vol. xil).
Bums of We have sinh jrx = wxP(} + -A, cosh irx = p( 1 + ,,„) ; if
we differentiate these formulae after taking logarithms, we obtain
\he series
certain
series.. ^
2x
tanh rx=
I
1
rhese series were given by Eummer (in CrelU's Joum., vol. xviL).
rhe sum of the more general series -, 5- + ^5- — =- + „-„ , o-
M- . . . , has been found by Glaisher (Proc. Land. Math. Soc, vol. vii.).
Ceiftlo. U in the series <12) and (13) we put n = 2x, » = j, we get
•etles for °
tine and rx_ 3? x'(g'-l') x°(x'- l')(x»-2') , '
"-^■"12*""^^
sin
3
TX
Vsja
|_4 16
x(x'-l) x(x'-l'Xx'-2') 1
■i3 — * — rs ■ /•
These series were given by Schellbach (in CrelU's Joum., -vo]. xlviil)
If in the same series (12), (13) we put 8 = ^, ;
cosx=l
2x
— , we get
4x2(4x> - 2V)(4x' - iVy ,
ii? 4x''(4x°-2V)
1.2ir'''" 1.2.3.4ir« 1.2.3.4.6.
2x 2x(4x' - JT-) , 2x(4g' - ir')(4x' - 3V)
2.3.4.5jr»
6ir«
.111
of thesene3j;i+3^ + j;
Mu.c_-- 1 2.3,r» " 1.
We have of course assumed the legitimacy of the substitutions
made. These last series have been discussed by fif. David {Bull
Soc. Math, de France, vol. xi. ) and Glaisher (Mess, of Math. , vol vii.).
If C;„denotes the sum of the series — + 5- + 5- + .... r„ that SunSs of
i ^ o powers
, , and W™ that of the series i - ^ "^ '^,'"
■ l" a" procals
4 JL- JL + .. , vce obtain by taking logarithms in the formula "^"^^
(25) and (26) >>ei&
log (X cosec x)=ir,(5y + |£;,(5)Vlc/,(?)'+ .. .
log (sec x)= V,Q^)\\v.{^)\If,{^)\ ...;
and differentiating these series we get
1,1
&x-2V-
iW-
-tan X-
: *l2 22x -H li" 2 V + — 2«x» + .
In (31) X must lie between ±rr and in (32) between ±iir.
equation (30) in the form
V, nn (2'' + l)'r
secx=2(-l)"
(31),
..(32).
Writ*
and expand each term of this series in powers of a?, then we get
^ecx=^ + -^*-;^+ (33),
where x must lie between ± Jir, By comparing the series (31), (32),
(33) with the expansions of cot x, tan x, sec x obtained otherwise,
we can calculate the values of J7j, (/,... Vi, V,... and JF„ IV^
When U„ has been found, V„ may be obtained from the formula
2"r„=(2"-i)c;„.
For Lord Brounker's series of ir, see Squaring the Circle Tvol. Con-
xxiL p. 435). It can be got at once by. putting a = l, 6 = 3, tinned
._,,,, ... In' V factors'
= 5. . . in Eulerstheorem =- - r + -- . =— - £—7-7 .""TT--- for »
a 0 o a+o-a+c~o+ lor x.
Sylvester gave {PMl. Mag., 1869) the continued fraction
„ _ 1 1.22.33.4
2~ H- I-^ 1+ 1+ "■•
which is equivalent to Wallis's formula for x. This fraction was
originally given by Euler {Comm. Acad. Petropol., vol. xi.); it
is also given by Stern (in CrelU's Joum., vol. x.).
It may be shown by means of a transformation of the series for Con-
, siux . , . X x^ x" x' _,, . , , tioued
cos X and that tan x= — — rz jT ■ " " "^^^ fractioiu
easily shown as follows. Let y = cos v'.'^, and let y', y" . . . denote nometri-
the differential coefficients of y with regard to x, Uien by forming ^•^ f^^.
these we can show that ixif + 2iJ + y = <S, and thence by Leibnitz's (jong_
theorem we have
4x)/''+2) + ( 4n + 2)j,(''+ " + y<")= 0.
Therefore |=-2-^„ ^^= -2(2n + l)-^„^,y^„^^;
r. n /- n 4x 4x 4x
hence - 2vx cot Vx = - 2 - — g— — ^y- — jj— . . .
X x* 7?
Replacing Vx by x we have tan x = — 5— —
Euler gave the continued fraction
n tan X (n' - 1 ) tan^x (m' - 4) tan% (Ji' - 9) tan^x
tan7ix=-j- 3^: 5-3 jz ■• .
this was published in Mim. de FAcad. de St Piicrsb., vol. vLl
Glaisher has remarked (Mess, of Math, vol. iv.) that this may bi
derived by forming the differential equation
(1 - x=)t/('"+=' - (2m -^ Dxv'^+W-f (n"- m')!,<"''=0,
where )/ = cos(i! arc cosx), then rcplacingxby cos x,and proceeding
as in the former case. If we put )i = 0, this becomes
tana; tao°x 4 ten^ 9 tan'x
\+ 3-H
x^ ^ 4^ ft^
nh?
whence we have
Brotanz=j-^ 3^ ^ ^-■■- -gn-Hl-f
It is possible to make the investigation of the properties of th»i
simple circular functions rest on a purely analytical basis. The sin*
T R I — T R I
57a
T dii
Purely of X would b« defined as a runction such tnat, if z= j •. ■' -, then
analyti- , J »*' " tf'
al treat- i/ = sina:; the quantity .j would be defined to be the complete integral
ment of [^ d^^ ^^^ ^^^^,j ^^^^ ^^^^ s-x=(' -4^=. Now change
uaat. the variable in the integral to z, where y^ + r'=l, we then have
- __ , , and 2 most be defined as the cosine of x, and is
+ cos'a; = l.
du
-r [• dz
tnus equal to sin (5 -*)■ satisfying the equation sin'*
Vext consider the differential equation
.=0.
^Vl-y' Vl-r"
This is equivalent to "
d(y \/l - j" + s Vr^) = 0 ;
Jience the integral is -^
yN/l-r'+sN/l-!f'=a constant. .
The constant will be equal to the value n of y when 2=0 ;
whence yVl - «■'+ z Vl - 1/'= «.
fhe integral may also be obtained in the fonn
Let .=f'-^^. 0=r-A=. v=r-=.
j,vi-r' i,Vi-z'- j„Vi-«"'
we have ii + /S = 7, and sin7 = sina cos^ + cosa sin/3,
cos 7 = (,os a cos /3 - sin a sin ^,
the addition theorems. By means of the addition theorems an4
the values sin 2='. cos 2 = 0wecan prove thatsin ( = +a:J = co3X,
cosf i+ij= -sinx; and thence by another use of the additioij
theorems that sin fV + x) = -sinx cos ()r + x)= -cosx, from wbicb
the periodicity of the functions sinx, cos X follows. ,
We have also / ^ = - 1 log, ( Vl - y^ + ly) ;
l\/\-y' . .,.«^
whence log,(\/l -y' + iy)+\og, (Vl-r' + i2) = a constamt.
Therefore (Vl -t/--i-iy)(Vl -1^ + 12) = Vl-u' + iu,
since u = y when s=0 ; whence wo have the equation
(cosa + isina)(cos^ + tsin^) = co3 (a + /3) + isin (o + ;5),'
from which De Moivre'a theorem follows. (E. W. H.)
TRILOBITES. See Crustacea," vol. vL p. 659 57.
TRIXCOMALEE, a town and naval station in the
island of Ceylon, is situated on the north-east coast —
which is bold, rocky, and picturesquely wooded — by road
113 miles north-north-east of Kandy, in 8° 33' 30" N. lat.
and 81* 13' 10" E. long. It is built on the north side of
the Bay of Trincomalee, on the neck .of a bold penmsula
separating the inner from the outer harbour. There is a
lighthouse on the extremity of Foul Point at the southern
side of the bay, and another on the summit of Round
Island. The inner harbour is landlocked, with a safe
anchorage and deep water close to the principal wharves ;
the outer harbour has an area of about 4 square miles,
■with adepth of about 70 fathoms. There is an admiralty
dockyard, and the town is the principal naval station in
the Indian seas. The breadth of the streets and esplan-
ades somewhat atones for the .mean appearance of the
houses, but the town generally has a gloomy and im-
poverished aspect. Pearl oysters are found in the lagoon
of Tambalagam to the west of the bay. The Government
buildings include the barracks, the public offices and re-
sidences of the civil and naval authorities, and the official
house of the officer commanding-in-chief in the Indian seas.
There is an hospital and outdoor dispensary, and also a
friend-in-need society. The population of Trincomalee in
1881 was 10,180.
The town was one of the earliest settlements of the Malabar race
in Ceylon, who at a very early period erected on a height at the
■extremity of the peninsula, now crowned by Fort Frederick, a temple
dedicated to Konatha, or Konasir, named the *.* temple of a thousand
columns." The building was desecrated and destroyed in 1522,
when the town was taken by the Portuguese, who made use of the
materials for the erection of the fort. The town was successively
held by the Dutch (1639), the French (1673). the Dutch (1674),
the French (1782), and the Dutch (1783). After a siege of three
weeks it surrendered to the British fleet in 1795, and with other
Dutch possessions in Cejlon was formally ceded to Gieat- Britain
by the treaty of Amiens in 1801. Its fortifications have lately
been strengthened.
TRINIDAD, a West Indian- island, lying north-east of
Venezuela, between JO' 3' and 10° 50' N. lat. and 61° 39'
and 62° W. long., being the most southern of the chain of
islands separating the Atlantic from the Caribbean Sea.
Its area is 1754 square miles, or nearly 1,123,000 acres.
In shape the island is almost rectangular, but from its
•north-west and south-west corners project two long horns
towards Venezuela, enclosing the Gulf of Paria. The
north-west horn terminates in several islands, in one of
the channels between which (the Boca Grande) lies the
small British island of Patos. The general aspect of Trini-
dad is level. But three parallel ranges, varying from 600
to 3100 feet in height and clothed with forests, run from
east to west. The plains are watered by numerous streaJflSji
and the mountains are deeply furrowed by inntimerabla
ravines. The rivers falling into the gulf are somewhat ob*
structed by shallows, especially the Caroni and the Couva.
Geologically, 9,3 well as botanically and zoologically, Trini-
dad diflers little from the adjacent mainland, with which
at one time it probably was connected. The soil, which ia
Cftupura ^'..O*
~/r\!3vS>
Di-A— JV«liri ff
cu 1 f or ryHv iA2u»
'^^S
Paris K~^^ "*^
Sm P.r«iu.dof ^^iSS&^rf
r^^ifl
"* '"* ''t^^^Sirf'^iWii^ii^ /
•^
/
Hayorat
""'^c^ 7^^ ^j\
trinttv 1
^^^Q^Cru
Map of Trinidad. ^
fertile, COTsists of clay, loam, and alluvial deposits. The
Moriche palm and mountain cabbage, as well as the cedaf
and the balata, are prominent objects. Poisonous and
medicinal plants grow everywhere, and the woods contain
an inexhaustible supply of timber. , There are two mineral
springs. The most curious natural feature of the island
is the pitch lake ' iii La Brea, 90 acres in extent, which
furnishes an important export. The climate is healthy,
the mean temperature being in January 76° Fahr. and ia
September 79° ; it occasionally reaches 90°.
'The population, which numbered 109,638 in 1871, was returned
in 1881 at 153,128 (83,716 males and 69,412 females), and in 1885
at 171, 9i4. Of these about 100,000 are natives of the island, prin-
cipally of African race, 50,000 are coolies introduced Trom India
(an industrious and prosperous element of the population), while
the remainder includes the English and other European settlers.
About 2000 coolies are introduced annually. Many French families
from other parts of the West Indies settled in Trinidad inany years
ago, and traces of this and of the Spanish occupation are obvious
in laws, municipal arrangements, language, and popnlatioo. The
two principal towns are Port of Spain and San Feruando. The
former (34,000 inhabitants), the capiUl of the island, is built on ft
feently inclined plain near the north-east angle of the Gulf of Pari««
^^- ' This is -vividly described by Charles Kingsley in At LusL
574
T R I — T R I
and Is a fine ancl safe port. In the town there are two cathedrals
(the Roman Catholic and the Anglican), and outside it a botanical
parden. San Fernando, about 30 miles southward, with a popula-
tion of 7000, is an important shipping place.
Of the total area about 300,000 acres are cultivated. Tlie
principal productions of the island are sugar and cocoa ; coffee
IS also becoming important. Trinidad hag sulfered much from the
effect of foreign state bounties, especially the export premiums of
Germany and France. The sugar production in 1871 was 53,000
tons, in 1881 44,000 tons, and in 1885 64,000 tons. • Tlic prin-
cipal exports in 1885 were — sugar, 64,000 tons (value £684,675);
rnm, 72,525 galls (£7878) ; .molasses, 2,416,761 galls. (£45,835);
cocoa, 14,904,840 lbs (£421,974); coffee, 20,270 lbs ; asphalt,
28,505 tons raw and 6731 tons boiled; cocoa nuts, 9,645,700;
bitters (Angostura and others) and liquors, 32,240 galls. ; the total
value was £2,246,664, including £707,421 specie and bullion.
The imports in 1885 (including bullion and specie) were £2,241,478
Among the principal items are cottons, linens, woollens, and textiles
generally (largely from the United Kingdom), £235,895 , fish, flour,
and provisions (principally from the United States), £27' OQO ;
Imnbcr (from Canada), £43,075; rice (half from India), £11; .940,
hardware and machinery (principally from the United Kingdom),
£116,894 ; gold (principally from Venezuela in tran.sit), £651,398.
The sailing vessels entering Trinidad ports in 1885 liad a burden of
150,219 tons, the steamers a burden of 385,950 tons. The total
public revenue in 188.i was £429,.307, of which £240,444 \^»8 for
customs and excise. The total expenditure was £443,920. There
are 145 public schools, of which 61 are Government and 61 assisted,
with a total attendance of 13,282 scholars. The principal towns
are connected by railway lines.
Trinidad was discovered by Columbus on 31st July 1495 It
remained in Spanish possession (although its principal town, San
Jose de Oruna, was burnt by Sir ^Valter Raleigh in 1595) until
1797, when a British expedition from Martinique caused its capitu-
lation, and it was finally ceded to Great Britain in 1802 by the
treaty of Amiens Its real starting-point as a productive country
was in 1781. when the Madrid Government began to attract foreign
immigrants. Trinidad is still strictly a crown colony of Great
Britain The legislative council includes the governor as president,
and sis official and eight unofficial members, all appointed by the
crown. During the labour crisis caused by emancipation and the
subsequent equalization of the British duties on free and slave-
grown sugar, the colony was greatly assisted by the skilful ad-
jninistralion of Lord Harris, governor from 1846 to 1851.
See De Verteuil. Trinidad ; Colonial OJioe List ; Guppy. Trinidad Atmanae ;
■Dd Governmi'nt Ocohjgicnl Survey.
TRINITARIANS (Ordo Sancia Tnnitatis et Captorum),
a religious order instituted about the year 1197 by Inno-
cent III., at the instance of John de Matha (1160-1213)
and Felix de Valois (ob. 1212), for the ransom of captives
among the Moors and Saracens. The rule was the Augus-
tinian, the dress white with a red and blue cross. De
Matha was the first general and De Valois the first abbot
of the mother house at Cerffroid near Meaux, where the
idea of the institution had originated in a miraculous ap-
parition. By 1200 as many as 200 Christians had been
redeemed out of slavery in Morocco by the order, which
accordingly spread rapidly not only in France but also in
Italy and Spain. Further favoured by Honorius III. and
Clement IV., the Trinitarians spread into Portugal, the
United Kingdom, Bohemia, Saxony, Poland, and Hungary,
and even into America. In the 18th century they had
in all about -300 bouses ; but the order is now almost
extinct. About the middle of the 17th century it was
stated that in France the " redemptions " up to that time
had numbered 246, the number of prisoners bought off
being 30,720, for Castile and Leon the corresponding
figures were 362 and 1 1,809 The order is sometimes
spoken of as the " ordo asinnrum " from the circumstance
that originally its members were not permitted to use
any other beast of burden. In France they were known
as Mathurins from the chapel of St Mathurin or Mathelin
in Paris, which belonged to them.
TRINITY HOUSE, Corporation op An associatioti
of English mariners, which originally had its head-quarters
at Deptford in Kent. In its first charter, received from
Benry VIII. in 1514, it was described as the "guild or
fraternity of the most glorious and undividable Trinity of
&t Clement," the court being made to consist of master,
wardens, and assistants, numbering thirteen in all an<}
elected annually by the brethren. Deptford having been
made a royal dockyard by Henry VIII., and being the
station where outgoing ships were .supplied with pilots,
the corporation rapidly developed its influence and useful-
ness. By Hcfiry VIII. it was entrusted with the direction
of the new naval dockyard. From Elizabeth, who con-
ferred on it a grant of arms in 1-573, it received authority
to erect beacon.s and other marks for the guidance of navi-
gators along the coasts of England. It was also recog-
nized as the authority in the construction of ve,ssels for the
royal navy. In 1604 a select class was constituted called
elder brethren, the other members being called younger
brethren. By the charter of 1609 the sole management
of affairs wa* conferred on the elder brethren, the younger
brethren, however, having a vote in the election of master
and wardens. The practical duties of the fraternity are
discharged by the acting elder brethren, who have all had
experience in naval affairs ; but as a mark of honour
persons of rank and eminence are admitted as elder
brethren and now form a large proportion of the mem-
bers. In 1647 the corporation was dissolved by parlia-
ment, but it was reconstructed in 1660, and the charter
was renewed by James II. in 1685. A new hall and
almshouses were erected at Deptford in 1765, but for
some time the offices of the corporation had been trans-
ferred to London, and in 1798 their headfjuarters were
removed to Trinity House, Tower Hill, built from the
designs of Wyatt. By an Act of 1836 they received
powers to purchase from the crown, as well as from
private piroprietors, all interests in coast lights. For
the maintenance of lights, buoys, ic, they had power to
raise money by tolls, the surplus being devoted to the i
relief of old and indigent mariners or their near relatives.
In 1853 the control of the funds collected by the corpora-
tion was transferred to the Board of Trade, and the money
over which the brethren were all6wed independent control
was ultimately reduced to the private income derived from
funded and trust properfy. Their practical duties in the
erection of lighthouses, buoys, and beacons remain as im-
portant as ever, the number of persons employed in their
service being over 800. They also examine navignting
lieutenants in the royal navj', and act as nautical advisers
in the High Court of Admiralty
TRINITY SUNDAY, which immediately follows Whit-
Sunday, was in the older liturgies regarded merely as the
" Octave " of Pentecost. The habit of keeping it as a
distinct festival seems to have sprung up about the 1 1th
century According to Gervase of Canterbury, it was
Thomas Becket who introduced it into England in 1162.
The universal observance of it was established by Pope
John XXII in 1334
TRIPOLI a North African state, bounded by the Medi Plat« V
terranean on the north, by the desert of Barca (or Libyan
Desert), which separates it from Egypt, on the east, by
the Sahara and Fezzan on the south-east, south, and south-
west, and by Tunis on the northwest. The country is
made up of a strip of fertile .soil adjacent to the sea,
with vast sandy plains and parallel chains of rocky moun-
tains, which finally join the Atlas range near Kairwin in
Tunis It is naturally divided into five parts, viz., — Tripoli
proper, to the northeast of which is the plateau of Barca
and Jebel al-Akhdar, to the south the oasis of Fezzan, to
the south-east that of Aujala, and to the south-west that
of Ghadimes.' It is very badly watered the rivers are
' Concerning the Iast-nam»d districts full information can t»e found in
Sahara und Sudxm (Berlin. 1879-81) by Dr Nachtigal, who continued
the explorations of southcrD Tripoli commenced by R:irtli and Roblfs.
Consult also /Narrative of Travfls and Discui^crij'.s in NorUicrn and
Central A/riia, by Deuham, Clapperton, and Oudney, London, 1826,
TRIPOLI
575,
ttnall and the desert wells and watering places are often
dry. As regards the coast, it is extremely difficult to fix
the exact border between Egypt and Tripoli. The sea-
board of the Libyan Desert is so little known to Europeans
that the spacious harbours of Tebruk (Tabraca and Tabarlja)
and Bomba (Bombaea) have almost escaped notice. The
land bordering the sea to the west of Cape RAs al-T(n does
not partake of the sterile character of the wastes of Barca.
The district of Jebel al-Akhdar ("the Green Mountain"),
which intervenes between Ris alTln and Benghizi, abounds
ID wood, water, and other resources , but its ports are
scarcely worthy of the name, except Derna (Darnis), where
Tessels from Alexandria call to embark honey, wool, and
wax. From Mersi Saza (Apollonia, later Sozusa), now a
mere boat cove, but once a powerful city of Cyrenaica, to
Bengh4zi the coast abounds in extensive ruins. Benghizi
itself, on the Bay of Sidra (Syrtis Major), is an insignificant
fortified town trading in cattle and other produce. The
principal products of the country are corn, barley, olives,
saffron, figs, and dates, — these last being perhaps the finest
in the whole of North Africa. Fruit also is abundant in cer-
tain parts, and so are many kinds of vegetables. The horses
and mules, though small are capable of much hard work.
The native tissues and pottery are almost as good as those
of Tunis. Great quantities of castor oil come from Tad-
jura. In consequence of recent- events in Tunis, Tripoli
has become the last surviving centre of the caravan trade
to Northern Africa. It is at least 250 miles nearer the
great marts of the interior than either Tunis or Algiers.
A large proportion of the commerce of Tripoli is in the
hands of British merchants or dealers in British goods, who
tend cloth, cutlery, and cotton fabrics southwards and re-
ceive in return esparto grass, ivory, and ostrich feathers.
The sirocco blows with great force at times during the
autumn, and the heat is as a rule much greater' than in
Tunis. The climate is very variable , cold nights often
succeed warm days ; storms are of frequent occurrence ;
and rain is at times wanting for many months. In addi-
tion to the capital Tripoli (see below), called Tar^bulus
al-Gharb to distinguish it from the town of the same
name in Syria, the only important places are Murzuk and
Ghadimes in the interior and Benghazi (Berenice) on the
coast. The population of the country consists of Moors,
Arabs, Kabyles, Kuluglis (descendants of Turkish fathers
and Moorish mothers), Turks, Jews, Europeans, and
Negroes. Nothing like a census has ever been attempted,
and the number of inhabitants is purely a matter of con-
jecture. In the interior the population is very scattered,
and it is not probable that the total exceeds from 800,000
to a million. The Europeans (2500 or 3000) on the coast
are nearly all Maltese. There is a Jewish colony of about
4000 in the capital, and the trade is almost entirely in
their hands and in those of the Maltese.'
Since 1835 Tripoli has lost the semi-independent character of a
regency which it formerly enjoyed in common with Tunis, and has
become a vilayet or outlying province of the Turkish einpire. Foi
sdmiiiistrative purposes it is divided into five districts, which
are again subdivided into twenty-tive cantons, the former being
governed by motajsarnfs and 'he latter by caimacams. Each vill.
a^e has its sheikh, who is assisted by a sort of municipal council.
Since the invasion of Tunis by the French, the Turkish garrison
of Tripoli has been considerably reinforced, and many new fortifi-
cations err pariKlIy erected on the coast. The chief judge or cadi
1.1 nominated by the Porte, the ma/tu are subject to his authority.
There are also a criminal court and a commercial tribunal. Tlie
taxe.* are collected by a receiver -general, also nominated from
Constantinople, and they press very heavily on all classes of the
I ' The bej.t known English work on Tripoli is F W. and H. W.
Beechey'i Procetdings of the Exp^ditum to Explore the NoHhem Coast
0/ Af-nra from Tripoh KastuxLTds. London, 1828. Admiral W. H.
Smytti'e Mtdurrrmiean, London, 1854, contains a description of the
eomt See aluo Itie, Country 0/ the Moors. London, 1877, and Broad-
J»y, Tunu full and I'reaent, Londou and Edinburgh, 1882. ^
inhabitants. The principal sources of revenue are the usual Mo-
hammedan taxes. The constant succession of Turkish governors,
each of whom invariably follows a different policy from that of his
predecessor, has been fatal to the material progress of the country.
There are few elementary schools in the capital, and instruction
in Ihj interior is entirely limited to the Koran.
History. — After falling successively into the hands of the Phce-
nicians, Romans (a four-sided triumphal arch, erected in honour
of Aurelius Antoninus and Auielius Pius, still stands near ths
Marina gate), Vandals, and Greeks, Tripoli was finally conquered
by the Arabs twelve centuries ago, and has remauied a Moslem
state ever since. In 1510 Ferdinand the Catholic of Spain took
it, and thirteen years later it was given to the Knights of St John,
who were expelled in 1553 by the Turkish corsairs Dragut and Sinan.
Dragut, who afterwards fell in Malta, lies buried in a much vener-
ated kubba close to one of the mosques. After his decease the con-'
nexion between Tripoli and Constantinople seems to have been
considerably weakened. But the Tripolitan pirates soon became the
terror and scourge of the Mediterranean ; half the states of Europe
seem at some time or other to have sent their fleets to bombard the
capital. In 1714, when Hosain ibn 'All founded the present line
of the beys of Tunis,' Ahmed Pasha Caramanli achieved iudepend-i
ence, and his descendants governed Tripoli until 1835. In that
year the Turks took advantage of a civil war to reassert their
authority, and since that date Tripoli has been governed by repre-
sentatives of the sultan. 'i
The khouan (ikhwdn) or semi-religious semi. political fraternities
which exercise such considerable influence in Tunis, Algeria, andi
Morocco are perhaps still more powerful in Tripoli. The most'
remarkable is that of the Senusiya, the centre of whose authority}
IS Jaghbub or Jerabub, north-west of the oasis of Siwa. The)
sectaries of Seniisiya are found in all parts of North Africa, but'
exist in unusual force iu Tripoli, and particularly in Ghadaniesj
and Murzuk. A certain halo of romance surrounds the history I
of this powerful sect ; but its chief has, up to the present time!
(1887), not played any conspicuous part 111 the aflairs of the Soudan
or in those of the J><urth African littoral. Mohammed el-Seniisi
came originally in 1830 from llostaghaneni in Algeria. He acquired
a high reputation for sanctity at Fez in Morocco. After a visit to
Mecca and the holy places he started a zdwiya or convent college
at Alexandria, but, being excommunicated by the sheikh al-Islani
at Cairo, he fled across the Libyan Desert to the Jebel al-Akhdar
near Benghazi. He afterwards removed to Jaghbub, whidi has
never been visited by any European traveller. Here he est.iblished
his zawiya in the midst of palm-groves and soon gathered nearly
a thousand followers. His austere doctrines are received with
enthusiasm in the Moslem states of Northern and Central Africa,
He established some one hundred sanctuaries in every considerable
filace between Morocco and Mecca, and appointed niukaddemin or
ieutenants in nearly every part of Islam. Sentisi the elder died
in 1860 and was succeed&d by his son, who bore the title of Al-
Mahdi. Under bis rule the prosperity of the zawiya at Jerabub is
said to have greatly increased. Pilgrims to Mecca from North
Africa, as well as those coming from Bornou and the Saharan pro*
vinces, flock there to seek his blessing. He not only receives caravans •
of ivory and ostrich feathers from the ditferent sultans of the in-
terior, but cargoes of arms and ammunition often arrive for him at
the almost unknown harbours of the coast. Rohlfs, Nachtigal, and
Duveyrier found their passage barred by Scnusian agents. It waa
confidently expected Scniisi would make some denumstration at the
beginning of the 14th century of the Hijra (November 1882). Hia
followers were, however, doomed to disappointment _ Most of the
Tripolitan sheikhs are aflSliated to the Seniisiya confraternity.
From an archieological point of view Tripoli possesses an interest
equal to, if not greater than, that which attaches to Tunis. On
this subject the fullest information is afforded by the book of the
Beecheys, and in a less degree by that of Mr Rae. The former ia
illustrated by .numerous plans and engravings and still aflbrds the
safest guide to the antiquities of Tripoli. (A. M. B.) I
TRIPOLI, the capital of the above country, is situated
in 32" 53' •40" N. lat. and 13° 11' 32" E. long., on a pro-f
montory stretching out into the Mediterranean and forming
a small bay. Its crenellated enceinte wall has the form of
an irregular pentagon. A line of small half-ruined forts
is supposed to protect one side of the harbour, and the.
castle of the governor the other. The desert almost touches
the western side of the city, while on the east is the ver-
dant oasis of Mesliiga, where are still to be seen the tomb*
of the Caramanlian sultanas and the twelve-domed 7tiar-
about of f^y Hamonda. In the town itself there are seven
* The Letters (London, 1819) of Richard Tully, who wa-s consul at|
Tripoli from 1783 to 1793, throw n straiifo and vivid light ou Tsi^
politan life during the 18tU ceulury.
576
T R I — T R I
principal mosques, six ot them possessing lofty minarets
in the Turkish style. The streets are narrow, dirty, and
nnpaved ; there is no European quarter properly so called :
Tripoli is still a typical Moorish city. Its population num-
bers about 20,000.
TRIPOLI (Tardbulits), a town of Syria, capital of
Liwa, on the river Kadlsha or Abu 'Ali, in 34° 26' N. lat.
and 35° 50' E. long., is situated in a fertile maritime plain
covered ^vith orchards and dominated by a castle over-
hanging a gorge of the river, some parts of which are,
perhaps, the work of the crusaders. The port (AJ-M(n4)
is about two miles distant, on a small peninsula. The
population is estimated at 17,000, with the port at 24,000
or a little more. Nearly half of these are Christians, the
Maronites preponderating. There is a considerable export
of silk cocoons and a native silk manufacture , the sponge
fishery is a large industry ; to.bacco is exported , and soap
is made from the olive oil of the district. There are
eighteen churches, and several monasteries, nunneries, and
large kh^ns.
1 The ancient Phoenician city which we know only by its Greek'
name of Tripolis was the seat in Persian times of the federal
council of Sidon, Tyre, and Aradus, each of which cities had its
separate quarter in the " triple town" (see vol xviii p. 809). In
the second and first centuries B.C. it struck coins, on which it is
designated a " holy and autonomous" city. These are succeeded
'by imperial coins ranging from 32 B.C. to 221 a. D. About 450,
and again in 550, it was destroyed by earthquake. The Arabs
took it in 638 after a prolonged siege, the inhabitants withdrawing
by sea. It appears from Beladhorl (p. 127) thJt at this time the
city still consisted of three fortified places. Moawiya recruited
the population by a colony of Jews and gave it fortifications and a
garrison against the naval attacks of the Greeks, who, notwith-
standing, retook it for a brief space in the time of Abdalmalik
(Beladh., ul sup.). It was again taken by tlie Greeks in the war of
966-69 and was besieged by Basil II. in 995, after which date it
was held by a garrison in- the pay of the Fatimite' caliplis of
Egvpt, who treated the city with favour and maintained in it a
trading fleet At this time, according to the description of Nasiri
Ehosrau (ed. Schefer, p. 40 sqq.), who visited it in 1017, it lay on
the peninsula of Al-Mina, bathed on three sides by the sea, and
had about 20,000 inhabitants and important industries of sugar
anil- paper-making. Of the great sea-walls and towers there are
still imposing remains. From this date till it was taken by the
crusaders, after a five years' siege, in 1109, the ruling family was
that of 'Ammar, who founded a library of over 100,000 volumes.
Under the crusaders Tripoli continued to flourish, exported glass
to Venice, and had 40.00 looms (Quatrem^re, Hist, des Sultans
Mamlouks, iL 103). In 1289 it was taken and destroyed by the
Bultan Kalaiin. of Egypt, and a new city was begun on the present
site, which rapidly rose to ijnportance (Ibn Batiita, i. 137). Its
mediaeval prosperity has obliterated most relics of remoter antiquity.
See Renan, Mission de PMnicity p. 129 sqfj.
' TRIPOLITZA, officially Tripolis, a town of Greece,
capital of the nomarchy of Arcadia, is situated in a plain
3000 feet above sea-level, 22 miles south-west of Argos.
The name has reference to the three ancient cities of Man-
tinea, Pallantium, and Tegea, of which Tripolitza is the
modern representative. Before the war of independence it
was the capital of the Morea and the seat of a pasha, with
about 20^000 inhabitants; but in 1821 it was taken and
Backed by the insurgents, and in 1825 its ruin was com-
pleted by Ibrahim Pasha. The town has since been re-
built, and now (1887) contains about 10,000 inhabitants.
TRISMEGISTUS. See Hermes Teismegistus.
TRISTAN. See Romance, vol. xx. p. 644 sq.
TRISTAN DA CUNHA, a group of three small vol-
canic islands, situated in the South Atlantic nearly midway
between the Cape of Good Hope and the coast of South
America, the summit of -the largest being in 37° 5' 50" S.
lat. and 12° 16' 40" W. long. They rise from the low
submarine elevation which runs down the centre of the
Atlantic and on which are likewise situated Ascension, St.
Paul's Rocks, and the Azores ; the average depth on this
ridge is from IGOO to 1700 fathoms, while depths of 3000
fathoms are found on fiach side of it The depth between
the islands is in some places over 1000 fatnoms. Trisfaa^
the largest and northernmost island, is nearly circular is
form, about 7 miles in diameter, with a volcanic cone in
the centre (7640 feet). Precipitous cliffs, 1000 to 2000
feet in height, rise directly from the ocean on all sides,
except on the north-west, where there is an irregular plain,
100 feet above the sea, and 2J miles in length and J mile
in breadth. The crater of the central cone is said to be
filled with a freshwater lake which never freezes. Inac-
cessible Island, the westernmost of the group, is about 20
miles from Tristan. It is quadrilateral in form, the sides
being about 2 miles long. The highest point (1840 feet)
is on the west side , all round there are perpendicular cliffs
1000 feet in height. At the base of these are in some
places narrow fringes of beach a few feet above the sea-
leveL Nightingale Island, the smallest and most southern
of the group, is 10 mUes from Inaccessible Island. Its
coasts, unlike those of the other two islands, are surrounded
by low cliffs, from which there is a gentle slope up to two
peaks, the one 1 100 feet, the other 960 feet high. There
are two small islets — Stoltenkoff (325 feet) and Middle
(150 feet) — and several rocks adjacent to the- coast. The
rocks are feldspathic basalt, dolerite, augite-andesite, side-
romelane, and palagonite ; some specimens of the basalt
have porphyritic augite. The caves in Nightingale Island
indicate that it has been elevated several feet. On almost
all sides the islands are surrounded by a broad belt of
kelp, the gigantic southern sea-weed (it/acrocysftspyT-i/era),
through which a boat may approach the rocky shores even
in stormy weather. There is no good or safe anchorage.
The beaches and lower lands are covered with a dense
growth of tussock grass (Spartina arun,dinaced), 8 to
10 feet in height, which shelters millions of penguins
{Eudyptes chrysocoma), which there form their rookeries.
There is one small tree {Phylica nitida), which grows in
detached patches on the lower groimds. Independently
of introduced plants, fifty-five species have been collected
in the group, twenty. nine being flowering plants and
twenty-six ferns and lycopods. A majority of the species
are characteristic of the present general flora of the south
temperate zone rather than any particular part of it :
botanically the group is generally classed with the islands
of the Southern Ocean. A finch {Nesospisa acunkx), a
thrush (Nesocichla eremita), and a water hen (GaMnula
nesiotis) are the only land birds — the first two . being
peculiar to the islands. In addition to the penguins
numerous other sea birds nest on the islands, as petrels,
albatrosses, terns, skuas, and prions. One or two land
shells, a few spiders, several Coleoptera, a small lepidopter,
and a few other insects are recorded, but no Orthoptera or
Hym'moptera. The prevailing winds are westerly. De-
cember to March is the fine season. The climate is mild
and on the whole healthy, the temperature averaging 68°
Fahr. in summer, 55° in winter, — sometimes falling to 40°
Rain is frequent ; hail and snow fall occasionally on the
lower grounds. The sky is usually cloudy. The islands
have a cold and barren appearance. The tjde rises and
falls about four feet.
The islands were discovered and named by the Portuguese in
1506. The Dutch described them in 1643. D'Etchevem landed
on them in the year 1767, when he gave Nightingale and In-
accessible Islands their names. Their exact geographical position
was determined by Captain Denham in 1852, and the "Challenger"
completed the exjiloration of the group in 1873. When first dis-
covered the islands were uninhabitiSiJ. Towards the end of the
18th and in the beginning of the 19th century several sealers resided
on them for longer or shorter periods. In 1816 the islands were
taken possession of by Great Britain. In 1817 the garrison was
withdrawn, but Corporal William Glass, his wife and I'amily, and
two men were allowed to remain. This small colony received addi-
tions from time to time from shipwrecks, from whalers, and from
the Cape of Good Hope. In 1826 there were 7 men and 2 women
VOL. XXIII.
TRIPOLI J
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besides >.hildn;D. In 1S73 there were 84 inhabitants, in 18S6 97.
They possess cattle, sheep, and geese. There are usually good
potato crops. The settlement has always been on the flat stretch
of land on the north-west of Tristan, and is called Edinburgh. Two
Germans lived for several years on Inaccessible Island, bnt with
this exception there have been do settlements either on this or on
Nightingale Island.
TRITON. The genus Triton was constituted by Lau-
renti, in his Synopsis Beplilium, and the name was adopted
by nearly all writers on Amphibia. In Brii. Mvs. Cat.:
Bairachia Gradientia, by G. A. Boulenger, the genus is
expanded and called by the name Molge, which was used
by Merrem in his Teniamen Syst. Amphibia, 1820. The
genus belongs to the division ilecodonta .of the family
Salamandrida in Strauch's classification (see jVmphibia,
vol. i. p. 77 1). The definition of Molge given by Boulenger,
which closely agrees with that of Triton adopted by Strauch,
is as follows. Tongue free along the sides, adherent or
somewhat free posteriorly. Palatine teeth in two straight
or slightly curved series. Fronto-squamosal arch present
(except in M. cristatus), ligamentous or bony. Toes five.
Tail compressed. In Bell's British Eeptihs, 2d ed., 1849,
fotir species were described as occurring in Britain. Ac-
cording to Boulenger, there are only three British species,
Mdge crislala, Boul. (Laurenti), M. vulgaris, Boul. (Linn.),
and J/, palmata, Boul. (Schneider). We give a short ac-
count of these under the names Triton cristatits, T. iml-
garis, and T. patmatus respectively.
The name Triton cristatus for the first species has been used by
a great number of authoritative writers on Amphibia, including
Laurenti, Tschudi, Bonaparte, Dumeril and Bibron, and Strauch,
and also by Bell and Fleming among students of British fauna.*
The diagnosis of T. cristatus is as follows : — The males have a
dorsal crest which is toothed ; the fronto-squamosal arch is absent ;
the colour of the ventral surface is orange ivith black spots. This
species is commonly known as the great water-newt. The average
length of the adult is 6 inches. The colours are most brilliant in
the male, and more developed in the breeding scasoiT— spring and
snmmer — than in winter. The back is blackish or yellowish brown,
with round black spots ; the sides of the tail are white. The
dorsal crest of the male is separated entirely from the tail crest,
and both disappear in winter. The skin is covered with warty
tubercles. There are no parotids ; but glandular pores are present
over the eyes and in a. longitudinal series along each side. The
species is pretty common in ponds and ditches in most parts of
Britain, but more abundant in the south than in the north ; in
the neighbourhood of London it is found in great numbers. Its
food consists of aquatic insects and other small animals ; in the
spring it devours the young tadpoles of the frog with avidity, and
occasionally it feeds on the smaller species, T. vulgaris. In winter
it hibernates, either quitting the water and biding under stones or
remaining torpid at the bottom of the water. It breeds chiefly in
May and June. As in all Salavumdrida, a true copulation takes
place and the fertilization of the ova is internal. The female
deposits each egg separately in the fold of a leaf, which she bends
by means of her hind feet ; the adhesive slime surrounding the
vitellus keeps the leaf folded. The tadpole when first hatched is
much more fish-like in form than that of thefrog, the body dimin-
ishing in thickness gradually to the end of the tail. A continuous
median fin runs along the back from the head, round the end of the
tail, along the ventral median line, to the region of the gills, thus
extending, as in many fish larva, in front of the anus. The larva
possesses three pairs of branched external gills, and in front of
these a pair of processes by which it can adhere to fixed objects in
the water. T. cristatus is abundant throughout Europe, ranging
from Sweden and Russia southwards to Gr.ece, and from Britain
to the Caucasus.
The diagnosis of T. vulgaris, the Lissolriion punctatus of Bell,
Is :— Males with a dorsal crest continuous with the caudal, and
festooned ; belly not brilliantly coloured ; back spotted. This
species, often called the common or small newt, has a smooth skin,
no glandular pores on the sides, but two patches on the head. It
is as abundant in Britain as the former, or more so, but difl'ers
Bomewhat in habits, in autumn and winter being almost entirely
terrestrial, and only living in water during the breeding season.
Like the former species it is carnivorous. It is found in most parts
of Britain, and throughout Europe, except in the south of France,
Spain, and Portugal ; it also extends into temperate Asia.
T. palmaius Tschudi (Schneider), the iMsolriton palmipes of
Bell, IS thus distinguished : — Male with dorsal crest, which is low
*' "J^e species of Tritoo »re wiled in English efts, evets, or newts.
with an even margin and continuous with tne caudal ; fronto-
squamosal arch long ; toes in male webbed. Other less distinctive
features are that the back is flattened, with a raised line on each
side, and the tail in the male truncate, terminating in » short
slender filament. This species is not so common in Britain as the
other two; it is widely distributed throughout Europe. It was
first discovered in Britain in 1843.
Boulenger recognizes nineteeti species of Molge, of which nine
besides those found in Britain are European. Only two species
occur in America. Strauch gives twenty species.
TRIUMPH, an honour awarded to generals in ancient
Rome for decisive victories over foreign enemies ; for
victories in civil war or over rebels a triumph was not
allowed. The power of granting a triumph rested with
the senate ; and it was a condition of granting it that
the victorious general, on his return from the war, should
not have entered the city until he entered it in triumph.
Lucullus on his return from Asia vaited outside of Rome
three years for his triumph. The triumph consisted of a
solemn procession, which, starting from the Campus Martius
outside the city walls, passed through the city to the Capitol.
Rome was en fete, the streets gay with garlands, the
temples open. The procession was headed by the magis-
trates and senate, who were followed by trumpeters and
then by the spoils, which included not only arms, standards,
statues, <tc., but also representations of battles, and of the
towns, rivers, and mountains of the conquered country,
models of fortresses, itc. Nest came the victims destined
for sacrifice, especially white oxen with gilded horns.
They were followed by the prisoners who had not been
sold as slaves but kept to grace the triumph ; they were
put to death when the procession reached the Capitol. The
chariot which carried the victorious genera! (triumphator) ~
was crowned with laurel and drawn by four horses. The
general was attired like the Capitoline Jupiter in robes of
purple and gold borrowed from the treasury of the god ;
in his right hand he held a laurel branch, in his left at
ivorj' sceptre with an eagle at the point. Above his head
the golden crown of Jupiter was held by a slave who re-
minded him in the midst of his glory that he was a
mortal man. Last came the soldiers shouting lo triumphe
and singing songs both of a laudatory and scurrilous kiiid.
On reaching the temple of Jupiter on the Capitol, the
general placed the laurel branch (in later times a palm
branch) on the lap of the image of the god, and then
offered the thank-offerings. A feast of the magistrates
and senate, and sometimes of the soldiers and people, con-
cluded the cereinony, which in earlier times lasted one
day but in later times occupied several. A naval or
maritime triumph was sometimes celebrated for victories
at sea. Generals who were not allowed a regular triumph
by the senate had a right to triumph at the temple of
Jupiter Latiaris on the Alban Mount.
TRIVANDRUM, a town of India, capital of the native
state of Travancore {q.v.), is situated in 8° 29' 3" N. lat.
and 76° 59' 9" E. long., near the coast, pot far from Cape
Comorin. It is the residence of the maharajah, and con-
tains an observatory and a museum, besides several other
fine buildings. Commercially it is inferior in importance
to Aleppi, the trade centre of the state. In 1881 it had a
population of 37,652.
TROAD AND TROY. The Troad (>) Tpu^s), or land of Geogr*.
Troy, is the north-western promontory of Asia Minor.!'*''"'
The name "Troad" is never used by Homer,— who calls f'^^'"'
the land, like the city, Ipolrj, — but is already known to
Herodotus. The Troad is bounded on the north by the ''
Hellespont and the westernmost part of the Propontis,
on the west by the yEgean Sea, and on the south by the
Gulf of Adramyttium. The eastern limit was variously
defined by ancient writers. In the widest acceptation, the
Troad was identified with the whole of western and south-
western Mysia, from the .lEseptis, which flows into the
XIIL - 73
678
T R 0 A D
Propontis a little west of Cyzicus, to the Caicus, which
flows into the ^gean south of Atarneus. But the true
eastern boundary is undoubtedly the range of Ida, which,
starting from near the south-east angle of the Adramyttian
Gulf, sends its north-western spurs nearly to the coast of
the Propontis, in the region west of the yEsepus and east
of the Granicua. Taking Ida for the eastern limit, we
have the definition which, as Strabo says, best corresponds
with the actual usage of the name Troad. Ida is the key
to the physical geography of the whole region ; and it is
the peculiar character which this mountain-system imparts
to the land west of it that constitutes the real distinctness
of the Troad from the rest of Mysia. Nature has here
provided Asia Minor with an outwork against invaders
from the north west ; and as in the dawn of Greek legend
the Troad is the scene of the struggle between Agamem-
non and Priam, so it was in the Troad that Alexander
won the battle which opened a path for his further
advance.
Natural The length of the Troad from north to south — taking a
dirisions. straight line,from the north-west point. Cape Sigeum (Yeni
Shehr), to the south-west point. Cape Leotum (Babi-Calossi)
— may be roughly given as forty miles. The breadth, from
the middle point of the west coast to the main range of Ida,
is not much greater. The whole central portion of this
area is drained by the Mendere (the ancient Scamander),
which rises in Ida and is by far the most important river
of the Troad. The basin of the Mendere is divided by
hills into two distinct parts, a southern and a northern
plain. The southern — anciently called the Samonian plain
— is the great central plain of the Troad, and takes its
modern name from Bairamitch, the chief Turkish town,
which is situated in the eastern part of it near Ida. It
is of an elongated form, the extent from north to south
being large in proportion to the average width, and is en-
closed by hills which, especially towards the south, are low
and undulating. From the north end of the plain of Bair-
amitch the Mendere winds in large curves through deep
gorges in metamorphic rocks, and issues into the northern
plain, stretching to the Hellespont. This is the plain of
Troy, which has an average length of seven or eight miles
from north to south, with a breadth of some two or three
from east to west. The hills which enclose it on the south
and east are quite low, and towards the east the acclivities
are in places so gentle as to leave the limits of the plain
somewhat indefinite. Next to the basin of the Mendere,
with its two plains, the best marked feature in the river-
system of the Troad is the valley of the Touzla, the ancient
Satniois. The Touzla rises in the western part of Mount
Ida, south of the plain of Bairamitch, from which its
valley is divided by hills; and, after flowing for many
miles almost parallel with the south coast of the Troad,
from which, at Assus, it is less than a mile distant, it
enters the Mgeaa about ten miles north of Cape Lectum.
Three alluvial plains are comprised in its course. The
easternmost of these, into which the river issues from
rugged mountains of considerable height, is long and
narrow The next is the broad plain, which is overlooked
by the lofty site of Assus, and which was a fertile source
of supply to that city. The third is the plain at the
embouchure of the river on the west coast. This was
anciently called the Halesian ('AAiJo-ioi') plain, partly from
the maritime salt-works at Tragasa;, near the town of
Hamaxitus, partly also from the hot salt-springs which
exist at some distance from the sea, on the north side of
the river, where large formations of rock-salt are also
found. Maritime salt-works are still in operation at the
mouth of the river, and its modern name (Touzla .= salt)
Cout». preserves the ancient association. A striking feature of
the southern Troad is the high and narrow plateau which
runs parallel with the Adramyttian Gulf from east to west,
forming a southern barrier to the valley of the Touzla,
and walling it off from a thin strip of seaboard. This
plateau seems to have been formed by a volcanic upheaval
which came late in the Tertiary period, and covered the
limestone of the south coast with two successive flows of
trachyte. The lofty crag of Assus, washed by the sea, is
like a tower standing detached from this line of mountain''
wall. The western coast is of a different character.'
North of the Touzla extends an undulating plain, narrow
at first, but gradually widening. Much of it is covered
with the valonia oak {Quercus jEgilops), one of 'the most
valuable products of the Troad. Towards the middle of
the west coast the adjacent ground becomes higher, with
steep acclivities, which sometimes rise into peaks ; and
north of these, again, the seaboard subsides to war "Is Cape
Sigeum into rounded hills, mostly low.
The timber of the Troad is supplied chiefly by the pine- NatuftJ
forests on the slopes of Mount Ida. But nearly all theP"^''^''
plains and hills are more or less well wooded. Besides the
valonia oak, the elm, willow, cypress, and tamarisk shrub
abound. Lotus, galingale, and reeds are still plentiful,
as in Homeric days, about the streams in the Trojan plain.
The vine, too, is cultivated, the Turks making from it a
kind of syrup and a preserve. In summer and autumn
water-melons are among the abundant fruits. Cotton,
wheat, and Indian com are also grown. The Troad is,
indeed, a country highly favoured by nature — with its,
fertile plains and valleys, abundantly and continually irri
gated from Ida, its numerous streams, its fine west sea-
board,'and the beauty of its scenery. Under a good
government, it could not fail to be exceedingly prosperous.
Under Turkish rule, the natural advantages of the land
suffice to mitigate the poverty of the sparse population,
but have scarcely any positive result.
In the Homeric legend, with which the story of the Early
Troad begins, the people called the Troes are ruled by a'"^'°''y t'
king Priam, whose realm includes all that is bounded by f'^'^jLL
"Lesbos, Phrygia, and the Hellespont" {li., xxiv. 544),
i.e., the whole " Troad," with some extension of it, beyond
Ida, on the north-west. According to Homer, the Achaians
under Agamemnon utterly and finally destroyed Troy, the
capital of Priam, and overthrew his dynasty. But there is
an Homeric prophecy that the rule over the Troes shall be
continued by iEneas and his descendants. From the
" Homeric " Hymn to Aphrodite, as well as from a passage
in the 20th book of the Iliad (75-353) — a passage un-
doubtedly later than the bulk of the book — it is certain
that in the seventh or sixth century B.C. a dynasty claim-;
ing descent from /Eneas reigned in the Troad, though the
extent of their sway is unknown. The Homeric tale of
Troy is a poetic creation, for which the poet is the sole
witness. The analogy of the French legends of Charle-
magne warrants the supposition that an Acha;an prince
once held a position like that of Agamemnon. We may
suppose that some memorable capture of a town in the
Troad had been made by Greek warriors. But we cannot
regard the Iliad in any closer or more exact sen.se as the
historical document of a war. The geographical compact-
ness of the Troad is itself an argument for the truth of
the Homeric statement that it was once united under »
strong king. How that kingdom was finally broken up is
unknown. Thracian hordes, including the Treres, swept
into Asia Minor from the north-west about the beginning
of the seventh century B.a, and it is probable that, like
the Gauls and Goths of later days, these fierce invaders
made havoc in the Troad. The Ionian poet Callinus has
recorded the terror which they caused further south.
A new period in the history of the Troad begins with
the foundation of the Greek settlements. The earliest-
T R O A D
579
Greek
tetUe-
aieot&
Bnek
ll>nD.
and most important of these were ^olic. Lesbos and
Cyme in ^olis seem to have been the chief points from
which the first jEolic colonists worked their way into the
Troad. Commanding positions on the coast, such as
Assus and Sigeum, .would naturally be those first occupied ;
and some of them may have been in the hands of ^olians
as early as the 10th century B.C. It appears from Hero-
dotus (v. 95) that about 620 B.C. Athenians occupied
Sigeum, and were resisted by iEolic colonists from Myti-
lene in Lesbos, who had already established themselves in
that neighbourhood. Struggles of this kind may help to
account for the fact noticed by Strabo, that the earlier
colonies had often migrated from one site in the Troad to
another Such changes of seat have been, he observes,
frequent causes of confusion in the topography ; and the
fact has an important bearing on attempted identifications
of the more obscure ancient sites.
Among the Greek towns in the Troad, three stand out
with especial prominence — Ilium in the north, Assus in
the south, and Alexandria Troas in the west. The site of
the Greek Ilium is marked by the low mound of Hissarlik
("place cf fortresses") in the Trojan plain, about three
miles from the Hellespont. The early Greek settlers in
the Troad" naturally loved to take Homeric names for
their towns. The fact that Homer places the town of
Dardania far inland, on the slopes of Ida, did not hinder
the founders of the yEolic Dardanus from giving that
name to their town on the shores of the Hellespont. The
site of the historical Thymbra, again, cannot be reconciled
with that of the Homeric Thymbra. Similarly, the choice
of the name Ilion in no way justifies the assumption that
the Greek settlers found that spot identified by tradition
with the site of the town which Homer calls Ilios. It
does not even warrant the hypothesis that they found a
shrine of Athene Bias existing there. For them, it would
be enough that the sounding name could be safely appro-
priated,— the true site of Homeric Ilias being forgotten or
disputed, — and that their town was at least in the neigh-
bourhood of the Homeric battlefields. The Greek Ilium
may have been founded about 700 B.C. It is noticeable
that no ancient writer suggests a later date than the time
of Croesus (c. 550 bc.) ; and Strabo says that the
establishment of the colony at Hissarlik — after previous
occupation of a different site — took place " in the time
of the Lydians" (eirj AvSuiv). It would be reasonable to
infer that the Greek Ilium preserved some well-marked
traces of Lydian influence, perhaps in architecture or art,
perhaps in manners or traditions. The traces of Lydian
workmanship found in the excavations at Hissarlik are
thus easily explained, without recourse to the shadowy
hypothesis of a distinct Lydian settlement on the spot.
When Xerxes visited the Trojan plain, he "went up to
the Pergamon of Priam," and afterwards sacrificed to the
Dian Athene (Herod., vii. 42). It is doubtful whether the
" Pergamon " meant was at the Greek Ilium, or at another
site (to be mentioned presently), Bunirbashi ; strong
reasons in favour of the latter have lately been adduced
by Mr George Nikolaides, in his 'lAidSo? Sxparrj-yiK^
Atoo-xeinj. In the 4th century Ilion is mentioned among
the towns of the Troad which yielded to Dercyllidas (399
B.C.), and as captured by Charideraus (359 b c). It pos-
sessed walls, but was a petty place, of little strength In
344 B.o. Alexander, on landing in the Troad, visited
Ilium In their temple of Athene the Ilians showed him
arms which had served in the Trojan war, including the
shield of Achilles. Either then, or after the battle of
.Oranicus, Alexander directed that the town should be
enlarged, and should have the rank of " city," with politi-
cal independence, and exemption from tribute. The battle
•of Ipsus (301 B.C.) added north-western Asia Minor to the
dominions of Lysimachus, who executed the intentions
of Alexander. He gave Ilium a wall 5 miles in circum-
ference, incorporating with it some decayed towns of the
neighbourhood, and built a handsome temple of Athene.
In the 3d century B.C. Ilium was the head of a federal
league (koivoV) of free Greek to-wns, which probably in-
clude-! the district from Lampsacus on the Hellespont to
Gargara on the Adramyttian Gulf. Twice in that
century Ilium was visited by Gauls. On the first occasion
(278 B.C.) the Gauls, under Lutarius, sought to establish
a stronghold at Ilium, but speedily abandoned it as being
too weak for their purpose. Forty years later (218 B.C.)
Gauls were brought over by Attains I. to help him in his
war against Achseus. After deserting his standard they
proceeded to pillage the towns ,on the Hellespont, and
finally besieged Ilium, from which, however, they were
driven off by thr troops of Alexandria Troas. At the
beginning of the 2d century B.C. Ilium was in a state of
decay. As Demetrius of Scepsis tells us, the houses "had
not even roofs of tiles," but merely of thatch. Such a
loss of prosperity is suflSciently explained by the incursions
of the Gauls and the insecure state of the Troad during
the latter part of the 3d century. The temple of the Ilian
Athene, however, retained its prestige. In 192 B.C.
Antiochus the Great visited it before sailing to the aid of
the .^tolians. In 190 B.C., shortly before the battle of
Magnesia, the Roijians' came into, the Troad. At the
moment when a Roman Army was entering Asia, it was
politic to recall the legend of Roman descent from ./Eneas.
Lucius Scipio and the Ilians were alike eager to do so.
He offered sacrifice to the Ilian Athene ; and after the
peace with Antiochus (189 B.C.) the Romans annexed
Rhceteum and Gergis to Ilium, " not so much in reward
of recent services, as in memory of the source from which
their nation sprang." The later history of Ilium is littk
more than that of Roman benefits. A disaster befell th<
place in 85 B.C., when Fimbria took it, and left it in ruins;
bfit Salla presently caused it to be rebuilt. Augustus,
while confirming its ancient privileges, gave it new terri-
tory. Caracalla (211-217 a.d.) visited Ilium, and like
Alexander paid honours to the tomb of Achilles. The
latest coins found on the site are those of Constantius
II. (337-361). In the 4th century, as some rhetorical
" Letters " of that age show, the Ilians still did a profit-
able trade in attracting touri.its by their pseudo-Trojan
memorials. After the 4th century the place is lost to
view. But we find from Constantine Porphyrogenitus
(911-959) that in his day it was one of the places in the
Troad which gave names to bishoprics.
While the Greek Ilium at Hi.'sarlik owed its importance Astna
to a sham pretension, which amused sight-seers and occa-
sionally served politicians, Assus, on the south coast, has
an interest of a more genuine kind, and is, indeed, a better
type of ancient town-life in the Troad. Its situation is
one of the most magnificent in all the Greek lands. The
seaward faces of the isolated and sea -washed rock on
which Assus stood are carved to south and south-west
into terraces. The natural cleavage of the trachyte into
joint planes had already scarped out shelves which it was
comparatively easy for human labour to shape ; and so,
high up on this cone of trachyte, the Greek town of Assus
was built, with its colonnades, baths, theatre, its public
walks and its monuments of the dead, mounting tier above
tier, till the summit of the crag was crowned with a Doric
temple of Athene. The view from the summit is not ,
only very beautiful but also of great historical interest. )
In front is Lesbos, one of whose towns, Methymna, is said
to have sent forth the founders of Assus, as early, perhaps,
as 1000 or 900 B.C. The whole south coast-line of thei
Troad is seen, and in the south-east the ancient territoryj
580
T R O A D
of Pergamum, from whose masters the possession of Assus
passed to Rome by the bequest of Attalus III. (133 B.C.).
The great heights of Ida rise in the east. Northward the
Touzla is seen winding through its rich valley from a
rocky defile in the east to the oak-forests in the western
hills. This valley was traversed by the road which St
Paul must have followed when he came overland from
Alexandria Troas to Assus, leaving his fellow-travellers to
proceed by sea. The north-west gateway of Assus, to
which this road led, is still flanked by two massive towers,
of Hellenic work, and of an age which leaves- no doubt
that they are the same between which St Paul entered
the town. On the shore below, the ancient mole at which
he embarked for Mytilene with his companions can still
be traced by large blocks under the clear water. Assus
affords the only harbour on the 50 miles of coast between
Cape Lectum and the east end of the Adramyttian Gulf ;
hence it must always have been the chief shipping-place
for the exports of the southern Troad. Too much off the
highways to become a centre of import trade, it was thus
destined to be a commercial town, content with a modest
provincial prosperity. The great natural strength of the
site protected it against petty assailants ; but, like other
towns in that region, it has known many masters, —
Lydians, Persians, the kings of Pergamum, Romans, and
Ottoman Turks. From the Persian wars to about 350
B.C. Assus enjoyed at least partial independence. It was
about 348-345 B.C. that Aristotle spent three years at
Assus with Hermeas, an ex-slave who had succeeded his
former master Eubulus as despot of Assus and Atarneus.
Aristotle has left some verses from an invocation to Arete
(Virtue), commemorating the worth of Hermeas, who had
been seized by Persian treachery and put to death.
Under its Turkish name of Beihram, Assus ' is still the
commercial port of the southern Troad, being the place to
which loads of valonia (acorn-cups for tanning) are con-
veyed by camels from ail parts of the country. The
recent excavations at Assus, conducted by explorers repre-
senting the Archseological Institute of America, have
yielded results far more valuable for the history of Greek
art and architecture than any excavations yet undertaken
in the Troad. The sculptures form one of the most
important links yet discovered between Oriental and
early Greek art, especially in respect of the types of
animals. The later Hellenic town-walls of Assus also well
repay the new study which they have received. With
their ramparts, towers, and posterns they form the finest
and most instructive extant specimen of Greek military
engineering. The director of the exploration, Mr J. T.
Clarke, published in 1882 an excellent report on the work
so far as it had then been carried.
Alexandria Troas stood on the west coast at nearly its
middle point, a little south of Tenedos. It was built by
Antigonus, perhaps about 310 B.C., and was called by him
Antigonia Troas. Early in the next century the name
was changed by Lysimachus to Alexandria Troas, in
honour of Alexander's memory. As the chief port of
north-west Asia Minor, the place prospered greatly in
Roman times, and the existing remains sufficiently attest
its former importance. The site is now covered with
valonia oaks, but the circuit of the old walls can be traced,
and in several places they are fairly well preserved. They
had a circumference of about 6 English miles, and were
* The name Assus probably meaDS " dwelliog," '*town," beiug con-
Dected with the Sanskrit vas, *' to dwell," which appears in the
Greek astu, and also in the ending of such names as Mylasa and
Larissa, where in Greek the a is alternatively single or double — an
ending which, as Fligier has shown, is found in old town names from
India to Dacia. Homer supplies au example in his "steep Pedasus "
on the Satniois, and it h.as been suggested by Mr J. T. Clarke that
Fedajus may have been identical in site with the later Assus.
fortified with to.wers at regular intervals. Remains of some
ancient buildings, including a bath and gymnasium, can be
traced within this area. The harbour had two large basins,
now almost choked with sand. A Roman colony was sent
to the place, as Strabo mentions, in the reign of Augustus.
The abridged name " Troas " (Acts xvi. 8) was probably
the current one in later Roman times. The site is now
called Eski Stambul.'
Many classical sites of less note in the Troad have been
identified with more or less certainty. Neandria seems to
be rightly fixed by Mr F. Calvert at Mount Chigri, a hill
not far from Alexandria Troas, remarkable for the fine
view of the whole Troad which it commands. Cebrene
has been conjecturally placed in the eastern part of the
plain of Bairamitch, Palasscepsis being further east on
the slopes of Ida, while the new Scepsis was near the site
of Bairamitch itself. The evidence for this, however, is
ambiguous. At the village of Kulaklee, a little south of
the mouth of the Touzla, some Corinthian columns and
other fragments mark the temple of Apollo Smintheua
and (approximately) the site of the Homeric Chryse.
Colonse was also on the west coast, opposite Tenedos.
Scamandria occupied the site of Eneh, in the middle of
the plain of Bairamitch, and Cenchrese was probably some
distance north of it. The shrine of Palamedes, mentioned
by ancient writers as existing at a town called Polymedium,
has been discovered by Mr J. T. Clarke on a site hitherto
unvisited by any modern traveller, between Assus and
Cape Lectum. It proves to have been a sacred enclosure
(temenos) on the acropolis of the town ; the statue of
Palamedes stood on a rock at the middle of its southern
edge. Another interesting discovery has been made by
Mr Clarke, — viz., the existence of very ancient town walls
on Gargarus, the highest peak of Ida.
The modern discussion as to the site of Homeric Troy
may be considered as dating from Lechevalier's visits to
the Troad in 1785-86. Homer describes Troy as "a great
ton-n," " with broad streets," and with a high acropolis, or
" Pergamus," rising above it, from which precipitous rocks
descend abruptly to the plain beneath.' These are the
precipices over which the Trojans proposed to hurl the
wooden horse, " when they had dragged it to the summit."
Homer marks the character of the acropolis by the epithets
"lofty," "windy," and more forcibly still by "beetling.*'
One site in the Trojan plain, and one only, satisfies thit
most essential condition. It is the hill at its southern
edge called the Bali Dagh, above the village of Bunir-
bashi. It has a height of about 400 feet, with sheer
precipices descending on the south and south-west to the
valley of the Scamander (Mendere). Remains found upon
it — though it has never yet been thoroughly explored —
show it to have been the site of an ancient" city. Homer
describes two natural springs as .ising a little to the
north west of Homeric Troy. A little to the north-west
of Bun4rbashi these springs still exist. " This pair of rivu-
lets are the immutable mark of nature by which the height
towering above is recognized as the citadel of Ilium " (E.
Curtms).
The low mound of Hissarlik — thff site of the Greek
I hum — stands only 112 feet abofe the level of the open
plain in which it is situated. To call it "beetling"
{64>pi>6i.a(To.) would have been a travesty of poetical
licence on which no poet could have ventured, and to
describe it as "lofty" or "windy" would have been not
less strange. There are no natural springs near it, such
as Homer mentions. The jEolic settlers, having called
the place Ilion, naturally persisted in maintaining its
identity with Troy. Polemon, a native of the Greek
Ilium, who lived about 200 B.C., declared that his fellow--
townsmen could show the very stone on whicli Palaigedes
Other
ancient
sites.
Siteoi
Homerie
Troy.
Eejec* .
lion of
I Han
clainu
T R O A D
581
had given lessons in the game of draughts. The only
other ancient writer who is known to have admitted the
Ilian claim is Hellanicus of Lesbos (c. 482-397 B.C.), who,
as Strabo remarks, wished " to gratify the Ilians, as is his
wont." Like the Ilians, Hellanicus was of ^olian origin ;
and in compiling the local legends of various places he is
known to have been wholly uncritical, merely repeating
Bj »o- what was told to him as he had heard it. On the ol^er
cient hand, the claim of the Greek Ilium to stand on the site of
cnticum ; •jij.py ^^g decisively rejected by the general consent of
those ancient writers who had any claiir to critical
authority. The orator Lycurgus (c. 332 B.C.) speaks of
the site of Troy as desolate, and this at a moment when
the recent visit of Alexander the Great to the Greek Ilium
(334 B.C.) had drawn attention to the claim made by its
inhabitants. Demetrius, a native of Scepsis in the Troad,
who flourished about 160 B.C., wrote a book entitled
Tpui'xos AtaKoa-fj-oi ("The Marshalling of the Trojans"),
an exhaustive commentary on the catalogue of the Trojan
forces in the second book of the Iliad. Demetrius knew
the topography of the Troad as thoroughly as he knew the
text of Homer. The extant notices of his work, which
had a great reputation in antiquity, warrant the belief
that he was hot only learned but acute. In the Diacosmus,
which was the chief work of his life, he must have
bestowed much thought on the question as to the site of
Homeric Troy, — the central point of his subject. He
pronounced decidedly, as we know from Strabo, against
the claim of the Greek Ilium. It has been suggested
that Demetrius rejected the Ilian claim because, as a
native of Scepsis, he was jealous of ^lium, — a suggestion
which is not only absurd in itself, since it assumes that
such a motive would have induced Demetrius to mar his
life's work, but also betrays ignorance of Strabo's text.
Scepsis was not a possible claimant of the contested
honour, since it was not in the plain of Troy but in the
plain of Bairamitch ; and further, Demetrius had already
provided in another manner for the Homeric dignity of
Scepsis by making it the royal seat of .^Eneas on the
strength of its position relatively to Lyrnessus. The
verdict of Demetrius against the Ilian claim was also the
general verdict of the other ancient writers consulted by
Strabo, as the latter's language shows. From the passage
in which Strabo notices the various definitions of the Troad
(xiii. § 4) it appears that among such writers were the
following historians and geographers : — Charon of Lamp-
sacus (flor. 500 B.C.), Damastes of Sigeum (400 B.C.),
Scylax of. Caryanda (350 B.C.), Ephorus of Cyme (340
B.C.), Eudoxus of Cyzicus (130 B.C.). It is to such writers
03 these that Strabo refers when he indicates the general
consent of his authorities. In favour of the claim of the
Greek Ilium, on the other hand, there are only two literary
witnesses, and these, as we have seen, are alike worthless.
Equally valueless from a critical point of view is the fact
that the Ilian claim was sometimes allowed by soldiers
or statesmen who wished to utilize Trojan memories.
They required an official Troy, and they cared not where
they found it. Nothing could more curiously illustrate
the extreme poverty of the case for the Greek Ilium than
the fact that some of its advocates have been reduced to
arguing as if Alexander and Lucius Scipio, when they
led their armies through the Troad, had been conducting
archaeological excursions, and as if their acqiuescence in a
convenient local myth had the weight of independent
critical testimonies.
By In negativing the Eian claim the conclusion of ancient
toortem. criticism has been confirmed by a great preponderance of
modern opiniou. Since Lechevalier visited the Troad in
1785-86 an overwhelming majority of competent judges
have favoured his belief that the Bali Dash above Bunir-
Hissatlik.
bashi was the Pergamus of the Homeric poet's conception.
Before Leake's visit this opinion had been expressed by
Choiseul-Gouffier, Morritt, Hawkins, Gell, and Hamilton.
Leake spoke with a decision which derives additional
weight from the habitual sobriety of his acute judgment,
and from the care with which, in this case, he had ex-
amined the alleged objections to the view which he finally
adopted. He remarks tuat no one accustomed to observe
the sites of ancient Greek towns could fail to fix on Bun4r-
bashi " for the site of the chief place of the surrounding
country." So Mr Tozer, in his Highlands of Turkey, says :
" A person accustomed to observe the situation of Helleni*
cities would at once fix on this as far more likely to have
recommended itself to the old inhabitants of the country
than any other in the neighbourhood." Count von Moltke
has expressed the same opinion, that " he knew no other
site in the Trojan plain for a chief town of ancient time."
Another supporter of BunArbashi is Forchhammer. Another
is Kiepert. The opinion of Ernst Curtius has been already
cited. But space precludes more names ; it is enough to
say that the correspondence of the Bali Dagh with the
Homeric Pergamus — a correspondence absolutely unique
in the Trojan plain — has been recognized with virtual una-
nimity by modern travellers who have patiently inspected
the scenery of the Iliad, having competent knowledge, and
being free from bias in favour of a theory formed before
their visit. Partial excavations on the summit of the Bali
Dagh have been more than once undertaken, with the result
of discovering ancient walls. Pottery, too, has been found
there, part of which is allowed on all hands to be probably
as old, at least, as 900 B.C. But the Bali Dagh has never
yet been explored with any approach to thoroughness. .
The result of the excavations conducted by Dr Schlie- The re-
mann on the mound of Hissarlik has been to lay bare '"*i'^_,*.*
the remains of the Greek Ilium, and also, below these,
some prehistoric remains of a rude and poor kind. In
Troy, his first book on the subject, the explorer held that
the remains of the Greek Ilium ceased at a depth of 6 feet
below the surface, and that all the other remains, down to
52J feet, were prehistoric. He distinguished the latter
into five groups, representing five prehistoric "cities"
which had succeeded each other on the site ; and in his
second work, Ilioa, he added to these a sixth prehistoric
city, on the strength of some scanty vestiges of supposed
Lydian workmanship, found at a depth of 6i feet. In
both books, Homeric Troy was identified with the third
prehistoric city from the bottom, which was supposed to
have been destroyed, though not totally, by fire. Professor
Jebb was the first to show (1 ) that the lines of demarcation
between the alleged prehistoric strata, as drawn in Ilios,
could not be accurate, and (2) that, if any part of the pre-
historic remains could be supposed to represent Homeric '
Troy, it must be that part which Dr Schliemann had called
the second city from the bottom, and the destruction of
which by fire appeared to have been total. In 1882 the
architects employed by Dr Schliemann proved that the
stratification given in Ilios had in fact been incorrect.
The errors, too, afi"ected precisely that region of the deposit
which was most important to the Trojan hypothesis, viz.,
the lower strata. In Dr SchLiemann's third volume, Troja,
these errors were admitted ; and Troy was now identified,
no longer with the third city, but with the second, of which
the supposed area was now enlarged. Another fact to
which the English critic had drawn attention was that the
remains of the Greek Ilium must extend to a considerably
greater depth than 6 feet below the surface. Further
examination confirmed this view also. It showed that the
remains on the mound at Hissarlik belong to the follomng
periods or groups. (1) At the top, the remains of the
Greek Iliun- as it existed in the Koman age, i.e., as rebu''*
582
T R O A D
After its destruction by Fimbria in 85 B.C. (2) A city
which, like the former, extended beyond the mound of
Hissarlik (its acropolis) over the adjacent plain. Tliis
corresponds with the Greek Ilium of the Macedonian age,
as embellished and enlarged by Lysimachus, c. 300 b.c.
(3) A smaller city, probably confined to the mound. Here
we may recognize the Greek Ilium as it existed before the
Macedonian age. It was a small and poor place, as appears
from the known incidents of its history in the 5th and 4th
centuries b.c, owing its chief importance to the shrine of
Athene Ilias. (4) A petty town or village, confined to the
mound, and poorly built. The evidence of architecture
fails to decide whether it was Hellenic or not ; if Hellenic,
it might represent the primitive settlement of the .lEolic
colonists, perhaps c. 700 B.C. It was a small house in this
village that Dr Schliemann at first identified with Priam's
palace. The ground-plan shows four rooms, of which the
largest measured 24 feet 4 inches by 12 feet. (5) A large
town, to which the mound' was only acropolis, and which
extended to some distance south and south-east over the
plain. These remains are unquestionably prehistoric. (6)
A few remains of a small settlement which, if indeed distinct
from No. 5, preceded it. The reason for distinguishing
6 from 5 is that some of the acropolis buildings of 5 are
above those of 6, and seem to have been built on carefully
levelled ground. Apart from architectural evidence, objects
found in the excavations prove that the remains of the
historical age extend much below 6 feet. One of these
was a terra-cotta disk, stamped with the head of a warrior,
in an advanced style of workmanship, found at 26 feet 3.
inches below the surface (^T-oy, p. 294). Another is a terra-
cotta ball, found at 26 feet, which cannot be older than c.
360 B.C. Then, at 20 feet, was found another terra-cotta,
marked with the Greek letter P. A piece of ivory, belong-
ing to a seven-stringed lyre, and therefore not older than
c. 660 B.C., was found at 26 feet. Thus we have at His-
sarlik the remains of the Greek Ilium in three successive
phases, — Roman, Macedonian, and Mo\ic, and below these
the remains of at least one prehistoric settlement, the age
and origin of which are unknown,
rheir re- We can no longer either prove or disprove that these
ation to prehistoric remains are those of a town which was once
Homer, t^jjgn after a siege, and which originally gave rise to the
legend of Troy. But most certainly it is not the " lofty "
Troy of which the Homeric poet was thinking when he
embodied the legend in the Iliad. The conception of
Troy which dominates the Iliad is based on the site at
Bunirbashi, and suits no other. The sole phrase in the
epic which favours Hissarlik occurs in book xx. (216 sq.),
where Dardania is said to. have been built on the spurs of
Ida, when Ilios " had not yet been built in the plain "; and
this phrase occurs in a passage which, as the best recent
critics agree, is one of the latest interpolations in the Iliad,
having been composed after the Greek Ilium had actually
arisen " in the plain." Its purpose was the same as that
which appears in the Hymn to Aphrodite, viz., to glorify
reputed descendants of .lEneas, and it probably belongs to
the same age, the 7th century B.C. The tactical data of the
Iliad — those derived from the incidents of the war — can-
not be treated with such rigour as if the poem were a
military history. But Nikolaides has shown that they can
at least be brought into general agreement with the site
at Bunirbashi, while they are hopelessly incompatible with
Homeric Hissarlik. The Iliad makes it clear that the general
conccp- description of the Trojan plain was founded on accurate
Si°" knowledge. At this day all the essential Homeric features
can be recognized. And it is probable that the poet who
created the Troy of the Iliad knew, personally or by
description, a strong, town on the Bali Dagh above Bunir-
bashi. The legend of the siege may or may not liave
arisen from an older town at Hissarlik, which had then
disappeared. The poet might naturally place his Troy
in a position like that of the existing strong city on the
Bali Dagh, giving it a " beetling " acropolis and handsome
buildings, while he also reproduced the general course of
the rivers and that striking feature, — an indelible mark of
the locality, — the natural springs at the foot of the hill, just
bejtQd the city gates on the north-west. But, while he
thus iniagined his Troy in the general likeness of the tojvn
on the Bali Dagh, he would retain the privilege of a poet
who was adorning an ancient legend, and whose theme
was a city that had long ago vanished. Instead of feeling
bound to observe a rigorous accuracy of local detail, he
would rather feel impelled to avoid it ; he would use his
liberty to introduce some traits borrowed from other scenes
known to him, or even fiom imagination. To this extent,
and in this sense, his topography would be eclectic. Such
a consideration might suffice to explain the fact, well
known to those vho have studied this question on the
spot, that neither Bunirbashi nor any other one site 'can
be harmonized with every detail of the poem. The re-
commendations of Bunirbashi are, first, that it satisfies
the capital and essential conditions, while no other site
does so, and secondly", that the .particular difficulties
which it leaves unsolved aie relatively slight and few.
This character of Homeric topography becomes still easier
to understand, if, as most critics would now concede, our
Iliad contains work of various hands and ages. Few
questions, perhaps, of equal literary interest have been so
much confused by inattention to the first Conditions of
the problem. The tale of Troy, as the Iliad gives it, is
essentially a poetical creation ; and we have no evidence
other than the Iliad. That is, our sole data are (1) of the
mythical class, (2) of inadequate precision, and (3) of un-
certain origin. But they show a general knowledge of the
ground ; and the question is how far particular features of
the grourid can be recognized in the poem. It may be
doubted whether the case admits of any solution more
definite than that which has been indicated above.
Bibliography. — 1. Works dealing* with the Troad generally,^
Strabo, bk. xiii. ch. 1, is the principal source for the ancient Troad.
Of books by modern travellers \n Asia Minor the following may be
mentioned : — Pliilip Barker Webb, in the Italian Biblioteca Accrbi,
June and July, 1821, whose studies are better known through the
French edition, Topographic (ic la Troade, 1844 ; W. M. Leake,
Journal of a Tour in Asia Minor, London, 1824 j P. deTchihatchef,
Asie Mincurc, kc, Paris, 1853-69; R. Virchow, " Be it rage zur
Landeskunde der Troas," in Traris. of Berlin Acad., 1879; H. F.
Tozer, Tht Highlands of Turkey, 1869 ; H. Schliemann, Bcise der
Troas in Mai, 1881 ; Joseph T. Clarke, Ecport on the Investigations
at Assos, Boston, U.S.A., and London, 1882, including "Notes OQ
the Geology and Topography of the Troad " by J. S. Diller, and on
"Bunirbashi," &c., by W. C. Lawton and C. H Walker. J. T.
Clarke's "Notes on Greek Shores," in the Heport of the Archaeo-
logical Institute of America for 1880, are'also valuable.
2. For the question as to the site of Troy, see — Lcchevalier,
Voyage dc la Troade, Paris, 1802 ; Gustavo D'Eichthal, Le Site dt
Troie scion Lcchevalier, kc, Paris, 1875; li. Schliemann's Troy
(1875), Ilios (1880), Troja (1884), which contain many good plans
and illustrations ; E. Brentano, Zur Losung der iroianischen Frage,
Heilbroiui, 1881, and Troia mid Ncu-Hion, ibid., 1882 ; R. C. Jebb,
"Schliemann's Ilios," in Edinb. Rev., No. cccxiv., April, 1881 ; Id.,
" Homeric and Hellenic Ilium," in Journ. of Hellenic Studies, vol.
ii. pp. 7-43, 1881 ; Id., " The Ruins at Hissarlik," ibid., iii. 185-217,
1882 ; Id., "Homeric Troy," in Fortnigh/ly Review, April, 1884 j
G. Nikolaides, 'IXidSos ZTpimj-yiKT) Aiatrufwi, Athens, 1883 ; P. W.
Forchhammcr, Erkldrung der Hias, auf Qrund der in der leigege-
bencn Original- Karte von Spratt and Forchhammer dargcstcllten
topischen und physischen Eigcnthumlichkeitcn der Troischcn Ebene,
Kiel, 1884 ; and W. J. Stillman, "Les Decouvertesde Schliemann,"
in the journal L' Homme, Paris, October, 1884. (R. 0. J.)
Legend of Troy.
According to Greek legend, the oldest town in the
Troad was that founded by Teucer, who was a son of
the river Scamander and the nymph Idaea. Tzetzes say»
T R O — T R O
S83
that the Scamander in question was the Scaraander in
Crete, and that Teucer was told by an oracle to settle
wherever the " earth-born ones " attacked him. So when
he and his company *.ere attacked in the Troad by mice,
which gnawed their bow-strings and the handles of their
shields, he settled on the spot, thinking that the oracle
was fulfilled. He called the town Srainthium and built
a temple to Apollo Sminthius, the Cretan word for a
mouse being sminthius. In his reign Dardanus, son of
Zius and the njnnph Electra, daughter of Atlas, in con-
sequence of a deluge, drifted from the island of Samo-
thrace on a raft or a skin bag to the coast of the Troad,
where, having received a portion of land from Teucer
and married his daughter Batea, he founded the city of
Dardania or Dardanus on high ground at the foot of Mount
Ida. On the death of Teucer, Dardanus succeeded to the
kingdom and called the whole land Dardania after himself.
He begat Erichthonius, who begat a son Tros by Astyoche,
daughter of Siraois. On succeeding to the throne, Tros
called the country Troy and the people Trojans. By
Callirrhoe, daughter of Scamander, he had three sons, — Ilus,
Assaracus, and Ganymede. From Ilus and Assaracus
sprang two separate lines of the royal house, — the one
being Ilus, Laomedon, Priam, Hector; the other Assaracus,
Capys, Anchises, .^Eneas. Ilus went to Pbrygia, where,
being victorious in wrestling, he received as a prize from
the king of Phrj'gia a spotted cow, with an injunction to
follow her and found a city wherever she lay down. The
cow lay down on the hill of the Phrygian At6 ; and here
accordingly Ilus founded the city of Ilios. It is stated
that Dardania, Troy, and Ilios became one city. Desiring
& sign at the foundation of Ilios, Ilus prayed to Zeus and
as an answer he found lying before his tent the Palladium,
a wooden statue of Pallas, three cubits high, with her feet
joined, a spear in her right hand, and a distaff and spindle
in her left. Ilus built a temple for the image and wor-
shipped it. By Eurydice, daughter of Adrastus, he had a
son Laomedon. Laomedon married Strymo, daughter of
Scamander, or Placia, daughter of Atreus or of Leucippus.
It was in his reign that Poseidon and Apollo, or Poseidon
alone, built the walls of Troy. In his reign also Hercules
besieged and took the city, slaying Laomedon and his
children, except one daughter Hesione and one son Pod-
arces. The life of Podarces was granted at the request
of Hesione ; but Hercules stipulated that Podarces must
first be a slave and then be redeemed by Hesione ; she
gave her veil for him ; hence his name of Priam (from
priasthai to buy). Priam married first Arisbe and after-
wards Hecuba and had fifty sons and twelve daughters.
Among the sons were Hector and Paris, and among the
daughters Polysena and Cassandra. To recover Helen,
whom Paris carried off from Sparta, the Greeks under
Agamemnon besieged Troy for ten years. (See Achilles,
Agamemnon, Ajax, Hector, Helen, Pakis.) At last
they contrived a wooden horse, in whose hollow belly
many of the Greek heroes hid themselves. Their army
and fleet then withdrew to Tenedos, feigning to have
raised the siege. The Trojans conveyed the wooden horse
into Troy ; in the night the Greeks stole out, opened the
gates to their returning friends, and Troy was taken.
See Homer, /?., viL 452 sq., ix, 215 sq., ixi. 446 sq. ; Apollo-
dorus, iL 6, 4, iii. 12 ; Diodorus, iv. 75, v. 48 ; Tzetzes, Schol. on.
Lycophron, 29, 72, 1302 ; Conou, Narrat., 21 ; Dionysius Halicarn.,
ArUiq. Bonu, i. 68 sq. The Iliiid deals with a period of fifty -one
days in the tenth year of the war. For the wooden horse, see
Homer. Od., iv. 271 sq. ; Virgil, ^n., iL 13 sq.
TROGLODYTES (-rpuiyXoSirai), a Greek word mean-
ing "cave-dwellers." Caves have been widely used as
human habitations both in prehistoric and in historic times
(see Cave), and ancient writers speak of Troglodytes in
various parts of the world, as in Moesia near the lower I
Danube (Strabo, vii. 5, p. 318), in the Caucasus (Id., xL 5,
p. 506), but especially in various parts of Africa from
Libya (Id., xvii. 3, p. 828) to the Red Sea. Herodotus (iv.
183) tells of a rai;e of Troglodyte Ethiopians in inner
Africa, very swift of foot, living on lizards and creeping
things, and with a speech like the screech of an owL The
Gtramantes hunted them for slaves. It has been supposed
that these Troglodytes may be Tibbus, who still in part are
cave-dwellers. Aristotle also {Hist. An., vii. 12) speaks of
a dwarlish race of Troglodytes on the upper course of the
Nile, who possessed horses and were in his opinion the Pyg-
mies of fable. But the best known of these African cave-
dwellers were the inhabitants of the "Troglodyte country"
on the coast of the Red Sea, who reached as far north as
the Greek port of Berenice, and of whose strange and sav-
age customs an interesting account has been preserved by
Diodorus and Photius from Agatharchides.' They were a
pastoral people, living entirely on the flesh of their herds,
or, in the season of fresh pasture, on mingled milk and
blood. But they killed only old or siok cattle (as indeed
they killed old men who could no longer follow the flock),
and the butchers were called " unclean " ; nay, they gave
the name of parent to no man, but only to the cattle of
which they had their subsistence. This last point seems
to be a confused indication of totemism. They went
almost naked ; the women wore necklaces of shells as
amulets. Marriage was unknown, except among the chiefs,
— a fact which agrees with the prevalence of female kin-
ship in these regions in much later tinjes. They practised
circumcision or a mutilation of a more serious kind. The
whole account, much of which must be here passed by, ia
one of the most curious pictures of savage life in ancient
literature.
The Biblical Horim, who inhabited Mount Seir before the Edom-
ites, bore a name which meaus cave-dwell^s, and may probably
have been a kindred people to the Troglodytes on the other side of
the Red Sea. Jerome, on Obadiah 5, speaks of this region as con-
taining many cave-divellings, and such habitations are still •some-
times used on the borders of t> 3 Syro- Arabian desert.
TROGON, a word apparently first used as English ^ by
Shaw {Mits. Leverianum, p. 177) in 1792, and novs' for
many years accepted as the general name of certain birds
forming the Family TrogonidiR of modern ornithology, the
species Trogon curucui of Linnseus being its type. But,
since doubts exist as to whether this is that which was
subsequently called by VieiUot T. collaris or the T. melan-
urus of Swainson, though evidence is in favour of the
former {cf. Cabanis, Mui. Heineanum, iv. p. 177, and Finsch,
Proc. Zool. Society, 1870, p. 559), several recent writers have
dropped the Linnaean specific term.
The Trogons are birds of moderate size : the smallest is hardly
bigger than a Thrush and the largest less bulky thaq a Crow. In
most of them the bill is very wide at the gape, which is invariably
beset by recurved bristles. They seize most of their food, whether
caterpillars or fruits, on the wing, though their alar power is not
exceptionally great, their flight being described as short, rapid, and
spasmodic. Their feet are weak and of a unique structure, the
second toe, which in most birds is the inner anterior one. being re-
verted, and thus the Trogons stand alone, since in all other birds
that have two toes before and two behind it is the outer toe that
is turned backward. The plumage is very remarkable and charac-
teristic. There is not a species which has not beauty beyond most
birds, and the glory of the group culminates in the QuEZAL (7. p.).
Bnt in others golden green and steely blue, rich crjmson ' and tender
^ See also Artemidorus in Strabo, ivi. 17, p. 785 sq.
" Trogoncm (the oblique case) occurs In Pliny (B. X'., x. 16) as the
name of a bird of which he knew nothing, save that it was mentioned by
Hylas, an augur, whose work is lost ; but some would read Trygonirn
(Turtle-Dove). lu 1752 Mdhring {Av. Genera, p. 85) applied the
name to the "Cunicui" (pronounced "Suruqua" _/W« Bate.?, Nat,
Amazons, i. p. 254) of Marcgrave {Hist. Nat. Brasiliae, p. 211), who
described and figured it in 1648 recognizably. In 1760 Brisson
(OrnithologU, iv. p. 164) adopted Trogon as a generic term, and, Lin-
nseus having followed his example, it has since been universally
accepted.
' M. Anatole Bogdanoff determined the red pigment of the feathers
684
T R O — T R O
pink, yellow varying from primrose to amber, vie with one another
ID vivid coloration, or contrasted, as happens in many species, with
a warm tawny or a sombre slaty grey — to say nothing of the delicate
freckling of black and white, as minute as the markings of a moth's
wing — the wliole set off by bands of white, producing an effect
hardly equalled in any group. It is impossible within brief space
to describe its glowing tints ; but the plumage is further remarkable
for the large size of its contour-feathers, which are extremely soft
and so loosely seated as to come off in scores at a touch, and there
is no down. The tail is generally a very cnaracteristic featu/e, the
rectrices, though in some cases pointed, being often curiously squared
at the tip, and when this is the case they are usually barred ladder-
like with white and black.' According to Gould, they are larger
and more pointed in the young than in the old, and grow squarer
and have the white bands narrower at each succeeding moult. He
also asserts that in the species which have the wing-coverts freckled,
the freckling becomes finer with age. So far as has been observed,
the nidification of these birds is in' holes of trees, wherein are laid
without any bedding two roundish eggs, generally white, but cer-
tainly in one species (Quezal) tinted with bluish green.
The Trogons form a very well-marked Family, belonging to the
multifarious group treated in the present series of articles as
Ficarise; but, instead of being {so far as is known) like all the rest of
them and, as Prof. Huxley believed, " dcsmognathous," they have
been shown by W. A. Forbes {Proc. Zool. Society, ISSl, p. 836) to
be "schizogna'hou's" — thus demonstrating, in the words of the
tatter, "that the structure of the palate has not that unique and
peculiar significance that has been claimed for it in the classification
of birds." Perhaps the explanation of this anomaly may lie in the
fact that the Trogons are a very old form. The remains of one, T.
gallicus, have been recognized by Prof. A. Milne-Edwards (Ots.
foss. de la France, ii. p. 395, pi. 177, figs. 18-22) from the Miocene
of the AUier, and it may not be too much to suppose that the
schizognathous structure was more ancient than the desmognathous.
Again too this fortunate discovery of that eminent paleontologist
seems to account for the remarkable distribution of the Trogons at
the present day. \Vhile they chiefly abound, and have developed
their climax of magnificence, in the tropical parts of the New World,
they yet occur in the tropical parts of the Old. The species now
inhabiting Africa, forming the group Hapaloderma, can hardly be
separated generically from those of the Neotropical Trogmi, and the
difference between the Asiatic forms, if somewhat greater, is still
comparatively slight It is plain then that the Trogons are an
exceptionally persistent type ; indeed in the whole Class few similar
instances occur and perhaps none that can be called paralleL The
extreme development of the type in the New World jnst noticed
also furnishes another hint. "While in some of the American Trogons
{Pbaromacrus, for instance) the plumage of the females is not very
much less beautiful than that of the males, there are others in
which the hen birds retain what may be fairly deemed a more ancient
livery, while the cocks flaunt in brilliant attire. Now the plumage
of both sexes in all but one ^ of the Asiatic Trogons, EarpcuUs,
resembles rather that of the young and of those -females of the
American species which are modestly clothed The inference from
this fact would seem to be that the general coloration of the Trogons
prior to the establishment, by geographical estrangement, of the
two types was a russet similar to that now worn by the adults of
both sexes in the Indian region, and by a portion only of the
females in the Neotropical. The Ethiopian type, as already said,
very closely agrees with the American, and therefore would be
likely to have been longer in conne.xion therewith. Again, while
the adults of most of the American Trogons {Pharomacru^ and
EuptilotU excepted) have the edges of the bill serrated, their young
have them smooth or only with a single notch on either side near
the tip, and this is observable in the Asiatic Trogons at all ages.
At the same time the most distinctive features of the whole group,
which are easily taken in at a glance, but are difficult to express
briefly in words, are equally possessed by both branches of the
Family, showing that they were in all likelihood — for the possibility
that the peculiarities may have been evolved apart is not to he over-
looked— reached before the geographical sundering of these branches
(whereby they are now placed on opposite sides of .the globe) was
•fleeted.
I It remains to say that about sixty species o£ Trogons
are recognized, which Gould in the second edition of his
Monograph of the Family (1875) divides into seven genera ;
but their characters are hardly laid down, Pkaromacrus,
Euptilotis, and Trogon inhabit the mainland of tropical
of PhaTomdcriis aurictps tp be a substance which he called "zooxan-
thine" {CompUs Rmdus, 2d November 1857, ilv. p. 690).
Id the Trogon of Cuba, Pri&jtoUlu£, Ibey are most curiously
■cooped out, aa it were, at the extremity, and the lateral pointed
cads diverge in a way almost unique among birds.
' Or two species if 11. vuuloli be r"Tre than a local form of B.
n> — nardf*-
America, no specito passing to tne northward of the Rio
Grande nor southward of the forest district of Brazil,
while none occur on the west coast of Peru or Chili,
Prionolelus and Tmetotrogon, each with one species, ar©
peculiar respectively to Cuba and Hispaniola. The African
form I/apalodeTTna is two species, one found only on thd
west coast, the other of more general range. The Asiatio
Trogons, Harpactes (with eleven species according to tha
same authority), occur from Nepal to Malacca, in Ceylon,
and in Sumatra, Java, and Borneo, while one species is
peculiar to some of the Philippine Islands. - (a. n.) i
TROGUS, Cn. Postpeius, a Roman historian, nearly
contemporary with Livy. Although the epitome of his
historical writings by Justin, and a few fragments, are all
that have come down to us, there is abundant reason to
believe that he deserves a place in the history of Romaa
litera are by the side of Sallust, Livy, and Tacitus. Of
his life little is known. He was almost certainly of Greek
descent. His grandfather served with Pompey in the war
against Sertorius, and received through the influence of
that general Ihe Roman citizenship ; hence the namo
Pompeios, which was adopted as a token of gratitude to
the benefactor. The lather of Trogus was an ofEcer of
Caesar. Trogus himself seems to have bfeen a man of
encyclopaedic knowledge. He wrote, after Aristotle and
Theophrastus, books on the natural history of animals and
plants, used by the elder Pliny, who calls Trogus " one of
the most precise among authorities " (auctor ipse e severis-
simis). But the principal work of Trogus consisted of
forty -four Liitri UUtoriarum PhUippicarum. This was a
great history of the world, or rather of those portions
of it which came under the svray of Alexander and his
successors. The tale began with Ninus, the founder of
Nineveh, and ceased at about the same point as Livy's
great work, viz., 9 a.d. The last event recorded by the
epitomator Justin {q.v.) is the recovery of the Roman
standards captured by the Parthians (iO B.C.). The history
of Rome was treated as merely subsidiary to that of Greece
and the East. The work was based upon the writings of
Greek historians, such as Theopompus, Ephorus, Timaeus,
Polybius. It has been contended that Trogus did not
gather together the information from the leading Greek
historians for himself, but that it was already combined
into a single book by some Greek, whom Trogus followed
closely with some superficial errors. But the assumption
appears improbable in itself, merely on a review of the
remains of the historical writings, and is moreover incon-
sistent with what we know of the works in natural history,
for which Trogus certainly went back to what were re-
garded in his time as first-hand authorities. It is generally
admitted that Trogus had genuine qualifications for writing
history, though he could not rid himself entirely ot the
faults of his authorities. His idea of history was more
severe and less rhetorical than that followed by Sallust and
Livy, whom he blamed for putting elaborate speeches in the
mouths of the characters of whom they wrote. Yet his own
Latin style had a vivid force which is still to be recognized
in the extracts made by Justin. For the ancient history of
the East, Trogus, even in the present mutilated state of his
historical work, often proves to be an authority of great
importance.
The chief modem editions are those of Gronovius (Leyden, 1719
and 1760); Frotscher(Leipsic, 1827-30); and Jeep (Leipsic, 1859 and
1862). In Engelmann's BiblioOuca Scriptorum Classicorum, ii,
unfler Justin and Trogus, will be found a large niunber cf references
to scattered modern articles. Perhaps the most important is tlut^
of A. V. Gutschmid on the sources of the history of Trogus, in the
second supplementary vol of the JaJirbb. f. clasi. Fhilol. (Leipsic^
1857).
TROITSK, a district town of Russia, in the government
-of Orenburg, situated in a fe-*.ile stenpe 392 miles to the
T R 0 — T R O
585
north-east of Orenburg, on the Siberian highway, is one
of those towTis which have grown rapidly of late in the
south-east of Russia. The Troitskiy fort, erected in 1743,
became a centre for the exchange trade with the Kirghiz
steppe and Turkestan, and in that trade Troitsk is now
second only to Orenburg. Cotton, silk, and especially
horses and cattle are imported, while leather, cotton, and
woollen and metal wares are exported. An active trade
in corn for the Ural gold-mines is carried on. The popu-
lation in 1SS4 was 13,000.
TROLLOPE, Antho.vy (1S15-18S2), English novelist,
was born in Keppel Street, Russell Square, London, accord-
ing to most authorities, on 2-lth April 1815; in his own
Auiohioyraphy he merely gives the year. His father, a
barrister, who had been fellow of New College, Oxford,
brought himself and his family into the sorest straits by
unbusiness-like habits, by quarrelling with his profession,
or at least with the attorneys, and by injudicious specu-
lations, especially in farming. TroUope's mother, Frances
Milton, according to her son, was nearly thirty when she
married in 1809. By her husband's wish she made a
strange journey to America in 1827, for the purpose of
setting up a kind of fancy shop in Cincinnati, which
failed utterly. Her visit, however, furnished her with the
means of writing The Domestic Manners of the Americans.
This at once brought her in a considerable sum, and thence-
forward she continued to be the mainstay of her family.
Her husband being obliged at last actually to fly the
country from his creditors, his wife maintained him by
her pen, at Bruges, tiU his death there in 1835. For sbme
time Mrs TroUope wrote chiefly travels ; but she soon be-
came known as a novelist, and was very industrioiis. Her
novels, the best of which are probably The Vicar of Wrex-
hill and The Widow Bamaby, are now rarely read, and
indeed were never at their best above good circulating
library level : they are written with cleverness indeed, and
a certain amount of observation, but with many faults of
taste, and with an almost total want of artistic complete-
ness and form. Her late beginning, her industrious career
(for she WTOte steadily for more than thirty years, till her
death in October 1863, at Florence), and the entire absence
in her of any blue-stocking or femme-savarUe weakness
would have made her remarkable, even if she had not
transmitted, as she undoubtedly did transmit, her talent,
much increased, to her children.
Anthony TroUope was the third son. By his own
account few English men of letters have had an unhappier
childhood and youth. He puts down his own misfortunes,
at Harrow, at Winchester, at Harrow again, and elsewhere,
to his father's pecuniary circumstances, which made his own
appearance dirty and shabby, and subjected him to various
humiliations. But it is permissible to suspect that this
was not quite the truth, and that some peculiarities of
temper, of which in after life he had many, contributed to
his unpopularity. At any rate he seems to have reached
the verge of manhood as ignorant as if he had had no edu-
cation at all. While living abroad he tried ushership ; but
at the age of nineteen he was pitchforked by favour (for
he could not pass even the ridiculous examination then
usual) into the post-ofiSce. Even then his troubles were
not over. He got into debt; he got into ridiculous
entanglements of love affairs, which he has very candidly
avowed ; he was in constant hot water with the authori-
ties ; and he seems to have kept some very queer company,
which long afterwards stood him in stead as models for
some of his novel pictures. At last in August 1841 he
obtained the appointment of clerk to one of the post-office
surveyors in a remote part of Ireland, with a very small
nominal salary. This salary, however, was practically
quadrupled by allowances ; living was cheap ; and the life
suited TroUope exactly, being not office work, which he
always hated, but a kind of tra jlling inspectorship. And
here he not only began that habit of hunting which (after
a manner hardly possible in the stricter conditions of
official work nowadays) he kept up for many years even
in England, but within three years of his appointment
engaged himself to Miss Rose Heseltine, whom he had met
in Ireland but who was of English birth. They were
married in June 1844. His headquarters had previously
been at Banagher ; he was now transferred to Clonmel.
TroUope had always dreamt of novel-writing, and his
Irish experiences seemed to supply him with promising
subjects. With some assistance from his mother he got
his first two books, The Macdermoti of BcUlycloran and The
Kellys and the O'Kellys, published, the one in 1847, the
other the next year. But neither was in the least a
success, though the second perhaps deserved to be ;
and a third. La Vendee, which followed in 1850, besides
being a much worse book than either, was an equal
failure. TroUope made various other literary attempts,
but for a time ill fortune attended all of them. MeanwhUe
he was set on a new kind of post-office work, which suited
him even better than his former employment — a sort of
roving commission to inspect rural post deUveries and
devise their extension, first in Ireland, then throughout
the west of England and South Wales. That he did good
work is undeniable ; but his curious conception of official
duty (on his discharge of which he prided himself im-
mensely) is exhibited by his confessions that he " got his
hunting out of it," and that he felt "the necessity of
travelling miles enough [he was paid by mileage] to keep
his horses." It was during this work that he struck the
vein which gave him fortune and fame — which might per-
haps have given him more fame and not much less fortune
if he had not worked it so hard — by conceiving The
Warden. This was published in 1855. It brought him
little immediate profit, nor was even Barchester Towers,
which followed, very profitable, though it contains his fresh-
est, his most original, and, with the exception of The Last
Chronicle of Barset, his best work. The two made him a
reputation, however, and in 1858 he was able for the first
time to seU a novel. The Three Clerks, for a substantial
sum, £250. A journey on postoffice business to the West
Indies gave him material for a book of travel, The West
Indies and the Spanish Main, which he frankly and quite
truly acknowledges to be much better than some subse-
quent work of his in the same kind. From this time his
production (mainly of novels) was incessant, and the sums
which he received were very large, amounting in one case to
as much as £3525 for a single book, and to nearly £70,000
in the twenty years between 1859 and 1879. AH these
particulars are given with great minuteness by himself,
and are characteristic. The full high tide of his fortunes
began when the Comhill Magadne was established in the
autumn of 1859. He was asked at short notice to write a
novel, and wrote Framley Parsonage, which was extremely
popular ; two novels immediately preceding it. The Ber-
trams and Castle Richmond, had been much less successful
As it will i)e possible to notice few of his subsequent works
in detail, the list of them, a sufficiently astonishing one, may be
given hen:— Tales of All CountriesCi series, 1S61-1370); OrUyFarm,
North America (1862) ; Reuhael Ray (1S63) ; The Small Souse at
Allington, Can Vou Forgive U-r! (1864) ; ifiss Madccnzie (1865) ;
The Claverings, Nina BalaOca, TheLasl Chronicle of Barset (1867);
Linda Tresscl (1868); Phineas Finn, He Knew He Was Right (1369);
Brovm, Jones, and Robinson, The Vicar of Bulthampion, An Editor's
Tales, Caesar (1870) ; Sir Earry Botspur of Humblethwaite. Ralph
the Ecir {\S,1\) ; The Oolden Lionof Granpere{\S72) ; The Eustace
Diamtmds, Australiaand New Zealand{\873); Phineas Redux, Earn/
Eeathcote of Cangoil, Lady Anna (1874) ; The Way We Live Now
(1875); The PriTne Minister {ISl 6)-, The American Senator {1877);
Is Ee Popenjoy t South Africa (1878) ; John Caldigaie, An Eye/or
XXm. — Ti
586
T R O — T R O
an Eye, Cousin Bcnry, Thackeray {\?,19) ; The Duke's Children,
Cicero (1S80); Ayata's Angc!, Dt iVortle's School (18S1) ; Frau
Frohmann, Lord Palmersttn, The Fixed Period, Kejil in the Dark,
Marion Fay (tS82) ; ,1/r Scarborough's Family, The Land Leayucrs
(1S83) I and An Old Man's Love (1884).
1 How this enormous total was achieved in spite of official
work (of which, lightly as he took it, he did a good deal,
and which he did not give up for many years), of hunting
three times a week in the season, of whist-playing, of not
a little going into general society, he has explained with his
usual curious minuteness. He reduced novel-writing to
the conditions of regular mechanical work — so much so
that latterly he turned out so many words in a quarter of
an hour, and wrote at this rate so many hours a day. He
divided every book beforehand into so many days' work
and checked otf the tallies as ho wrote.
A life thus spent could not be very eventful, and its
events may be summed up rapidly. In 1858 he went to
Egypt also on post-office business, and at the end of 1859
he got himself transferred from Ireland to the eastern dis-
trict of Engla'nd. Here he took a house at Waltham.
He took an active part in the establishment of The Fort-
nightly Review in 1865; he was editor of St Paul's for
some time after 1867; and at the end of that year he
resigned his position in the post-office. He stood for
Beverley and was defeated ; he received from his old
department special missions to America and elsewhere
(he had already gone to America in the midst of the
Civil War). He went to Australia in 1871, and before
going broke up his household at Waltham. When he
returned he established himself in London, and lived there
till 1880, when he removed to Harting on the confines of
Sussex and Hampshire. He had visited South Africa in
1877 and travelled elsewhere. On 3rd November 1882 he
was seized with paralysis, and died on 6 th December.
Of Trollope's personal character it is not necessary to say mucli.
fitrango as his conception of official duty may seem, it was evidently
quite honest and sincere, and, though he is said to have been as an
ofVicial popular neither with superiors nor inferiors, he no doubt
did much good work. Privately he was much liked and much dis-
liked,— a great deal of real kindness being accompanied by a blus-
tering and overbearing manner, and an egotism, not perhaps more
deep than other men's, but more vociferous. His literary work needs
more notice. Nothing of it but the novels is remarkable for merit.
His Caisar and the Cicero are curious examples of a man's under-
taking work for which he was not in tho least fitted. Thackeray
exhibits (though TroUope appears to have both admired Thackeray
as an artist and liked him as a man) grave faults "of taste and judg-
ment and a complete lack of real criticism. Tiie books of travel are
not good, and of a kind not good. Nitia Balatka and Lvida Tressel,
published anonymously and as experiments in the romantic style,
have been better thought of by tho author and by some competent
judges than by tho public or the publishers. Brovm, Jones, and
Robinson was still moro disliked, and is certainly very bad as a
whole, but has touches of curious originality in parts. The rest of
the novels have becii judged very differently by different persons.
There is no doubt that their enormous volume prejudiced readers
against them even long before the author let the public into the
secret of their manufacture, which has made the prejudice deeper.
There is also no doubt that Trollopc seldom or never creates a
character of tho first merit (Mr Crawley in tho Last Chronicle of
Barsct is the one possible exception), and that not one of his books
can be called a work of genius. At the same time no one probably
has produced anything like such a volume of anything like such
merit. He claims for himself that his characters are always more
or less alive, and they aio. After his first failures he never pro-
duced anything that was not a faithful and sometimes a very
amusing transcript of the sayings and doings of possible men and
women. His characters are never marionettes, much less sticks.
He has some irritating mannerisms, notably a trick of repetition
of the same form of words. He is sometimes absolutely vulgar, —
that is to say, he does not deal with low life, but shows, though
always robust and pure in morality, a certain coarseness of taste.
He is constantly rather trivial, and perhaps nowhere out of the
Barset series (which, however, is of itself no inconsiderable work)
has ho produced books that will live. The very faithfulness of his
representation of a certain phase of thought, of cultivation, of
•ociety, uninformed as it is by any higher 6j>irit, in the long run
damaged, as it had first helped, the popularity of his work. But,
allowing for all this, it may and must still be said that he held
up his mirror steadily to nature, and that the mirror itself was
fashioned with no inconsiderable art. (G. SA.)
TROMBONE, a musical instrument of brass. It has a
cupped mouthpiece, and is formed of two principal parts
— the bell, the bore of which gradually widens, and the
slide, which is composed of- two cylindrical tubes parallel
to each other, upon which two other tubes, communicating
at their lower extremities by a pipe curved in a half-circle,
glide without loss of air. The mouthpiece is adapted ta
one of the upper ends of the slide and the bell to tho
other end. When the slide, which is moved by the right
band, is closed, the instrument is at its highest pitch; tho
note is lowered in ■ proportion as the column- of air i$
lengthened by drawing out the slide. j
Formerly the trombone was known as the sackbut ; its
modern designation — great trumpet — comes from tho
Italian. The Germans call it posaune. It is difficult to
say where or at what epoch the instrument was invented.!
In a manuscript of the 9th century, preserved at Boulogne,-
there is a drawing of an instrument which bears a great
resemblance to a trombone deprived of its bell. Virdungi
says little about the trombone, but he gives an engraved
representation of it, under the name of busaun, which
shows that early in the 16th century it was almost the
same as that employed in our day. By that time the
trombone had come into vogue in England : the band of
musicians in the service of Henry VIII. included ten sack-
but players, and imder Elizabeth, in 1587, there were six.
English instrumentalists then enjoyed a certain reputa-
tion and were sought for by foreign courts; thus in 1604
Charles III. of Lorraine sought to recruit his sackbut
players from English bands. Praetorius ^ classes the trom-
bones in a complete family, the relative tonalities of which
were thus composed : — 1 ali-posaun, 4 gemeine rechte pos-
aunen, 2 quarl-posaunen, 1 odav-posaun, — 8 in all. The alt-
posaun was in D. With the slide closed it gave the first of
the accompanying harmonics: .
The gemeine rechte posaimen,
or ordinary trombones, were in
A. Without using theTslide they gave the subjoined sounds :
.The quart -posaun was made
; either in E, the fourth below
the gemeine rechte posaun,
or in D, the lower fifth. In the latter case it was exactly
an octave below the alt-posaun. The octav-posaun was
in A. It was constructed in two different fashions :
either it had a length double that of the ordinary trom-
bone, or the slide was shortened, the length of the
column of air being still maintained by the adaptatioa
of a crook. The first system, which was invented by
Hans Schreiber four years before the work of Praetorius
appeared, gave the instrumentalist a slide by which he
could procure in the lower octave all the sounds of the
ordinary trombone. The second system, which Prffitorius
had known for years, was distinguished from the first, not
only by modifications affecting the form, but also by a
larger bore. Mersenne ^ calls the trombone trompette har-
moniqae, but he does not appear to have made himself
acquainted with its construction, for we can scarcely find
an allusion in the confused text of his work to the tonality
of the trombone then in vogue. He established this fact,
however, that it was customary in France to lower the
instrument a fourth below the pitch of the ordinary trom-
bone by means of a toriil, a kind of crook with a double
turn that was fitted between the bell and the slide, "io
order," he said, " to make the bass to hautbois concerts." I
The compass of the trombone is not limited to the mere hann> I
> Afusica yetutscht nnd ausy/czof/en, CascI, 1511,
- Orgnnoyrophia, Wnlfenbuttel, 1619.
' Uarmonie Universelk, Paris, 1627.
T R O — T R O
nics obtained by leaving the instniment at its shortest length —
that is, with the slide close up ; it in fact comprises seven positions,
which are obtained by shifting the slide as many lengths and in
Bach a way that each of these produces a series of harmonics a
semitone lower than the length which has preceded. This system,
so simple and rational, might have been expected always to serve
for the basis of the technique of the instrument ; but from the
middle of the ISth century the art of playing the trombone became
the object of purely empiric teaching. Only four positions were
made use of.' By the first — that is, with the slide close up — there was
obtained from the ordinary trombone, then called the tenor trom-
bone, the first series of the subjoined harmonics (the ^ ~
oumerals indicating the order) -. . , — ^ **' U
the fundamental or first note
being difficult to obtain ; the ' ^
second position produced
A Jt the third
position
and the fourth
= produced
= In thus lowering by semitones, the
sounds furnished by the four positions
rave the tenor trombone a diatonic scale from .
This scale was farmed with notes that could !
be -perfectly just, but the result would have '
been less satisfactory to the ear if the player
had strictly observed the rules laid down by the teaching of that
period for the production of the chromatic intervals. Thus to pass
from a note furnished by one of the four positions to another a
semitone lower it was necessaiy to lengthen the slide by two
fingers ; if the semitone higher was required the slide had to be
shortened to the same extent.' A consideration of the laws
afiectin" lengths of pipes will show the viciousness of that rule.
Of all wind instruments the trombone has perhaps been least
modified in form ; changes have occasionally been attempted,
but for the most' part with only trifling success. The innovation
which has had the most vogue dates from the end of the 18th
century ; it consisted in bending the tube of the bell in a half
circle above the head of the executant, which produced a very
bizarre effect. It also gave rise to very serious inconveniences :
by destroying the regularity of the proportions of the bell it pre-
judicially affected the quality of toue and intonation of the instru-
ment For a long time the curved bell with its serpent's mask
was maintained in military music, and it is only about twenty
years ago that it was completely given up. By giving a half turn
more to the bell tube its opening was directed to the back of the
executant ; but this form, in fashion for a little while about 1830,
was not long adhered to, and the trombone reassumed its primitive
form, which is still maintained. As appears from a patent de-
posited by Stolzel and Bliimel at Berlin on 12th April 1818, the
application of ventils or pistons was then made for the first time.'
The ventils, at first two m number, effected a decided lengthening
of the instrument The first augmented the length of the tube by
a tone, lowering by as much the natural harmonics. The second
produced a similar effect for a semitone, and the simultaneous em-
ployment of the two pistons resulted in the depression of a tone
and a half The principle, therefore, of the employment of ventils
or pistons is the same as that which governs the use of slides.
Kor instance, a trombone is provided with three pistons, and without
their help it produces the first of the following sets of harmonics
(the numbers indicating the order).
Then by pressing down the second
piston we obtain a lengthening of the
column of air that lowers the in-
strument by a semitone and makes
it produce the second set of harmonics
here shown ; with the aid of the first
piston we relengthen the column, so
as to get a whole tone lower, produc-
ing the third set of sounds ; the third
piston, in the same way, lowers the a^
instrument a tone and a half, as in S
_(4); by the simultaneous employ-
: ment of the second and third pis-
- tons we arrive at two tones, as in (5) ;
t b* ^ ^^^ combination of the first and
~ * ' ^= third pistons lowers the instrument
: two tones and a half, as shown in (6) ;
* DeT sich selbst in/ormirende MusicaSt Augsburg, 1762, by Johann
Jacob Lotter.
' It need hardly be remarked that the higher semitone cannot be
produced in the first position.
* This was mentioned in the Leipsic Allgemeim musikaZisch^
Zeiiung in 1815, the merit of the invention being assigned to Heinricb
Stolzel of Pless in Silesia.
587
finally.unitingthethree pistons lowers
the trombone three tones and a half,
^as shown in (7).
■ft Notwithstanding the increased facility
obtained by the use of pistons, they
are very far from having gained the
suffrages of all players : many prefer
the slide, believing that it gives a facility of emission that they
cannot obtain with a piston trombone. For this illustration
of the use of pistons, we have taken a tenor trombone in B[) ; the
flat tonalities haviu" been preferred for military music since the
commencement of the 19th 'century, the pitch of each variety
of trombones has been raised a semitone. At present six trom-
bones are more or less in use, viz., the alto trombone in F, the
alto in E|> (formerly in D), the tenor in B|j (formerly in A), the
bass in G, the bass in F (formerly in E), the bass in E[) (formerly
in D). This transposition has no reference to the number of
vibrations that may be officially or tacitly adopted as the standard
pitch of any country or locality. A trombone an octave lower
than the tenor has recently been reintroduced into the orchestra,
principally by Wagner. The different varieties just cited are con-
structed with pistons or slides, as the case may be. (V. IL)
TROMP, tlie name of two famous Dutch admirals.
I. Martin Harpertzoon Teomp (1597-1653) was born
at Brielle, South Holland, in 1597. At the age of eight
he made a voyage to the East Indies in a merchantman,
but was made prisoner and spent several years on board
an English cruiser. On making his escape to Holland he
entered the navy in 1624, and in 1637 was made lieutenant-
admiral. In February 1639 he surprised, off the Flemish
coast near Gravelines, a large Spanish fleet, which he com-
pletely destroyed, and in the following September he de-
feated the combined fleets of Spain and Portugal off the
English coast — achievements which placed him in the first
rank of Dutch naval commanders. On the outbreak of war
with England Tromp appeared in the Downs in command
of a large fleet and anchored off Dover. On the approach
of Blake he weighed anchor and stood over towards France,
but suddenly altered his course and bore down on the
English fleet, which was much inferior to his in numbers.
In the engagement which followed (19th May 1652) he had
rather the worst of it and drew off with the loss of two ships.
In November he again appeared in command of eighty
ships of war, and a convoy of 300 merchantmen, which he
had undertaken to guard past the English coast. Blake
resolved to attack him, and, the two fleets coming to close
quarters near Dungeness on the 30th November, the
English, after severe losses, drew off -in the darkness and
anchored off Dover, retiring next day to the Downs, while
Tromp anchored off Boulogne till the Dutch merchantmen
had all passed beyond danger. The statement that he
sailed up the Channel with a broom at his masthead in
token of his ability to sweep the seas is probably mythical.
In the following February (1653), while in charge of a large
convoy of merchantmen, he maintained a running fight with
the combined English fleets under Blake, Penn, and Monk
off Portland to the sands of Calais, and, though bafBing to
some extent the purposes of the English, had the worst of
the encounter, losing nine ships of war and thirty or forty
merchantmen. On 3d June he fought an indecisive battle
with the English fleet under Dean in the Channel, but
the arrival of reinforcements under Blake on the following
day enabled the English to turn the scale against him and
he retired to the Texel with the loss of seventeen ships.
Greatly discouraged by the results of the battle, the Dutch
sent commissioners to Cromwell to treat for peace, but
the proposal was so coldly received that war was imme-
diately renewed, Tromp again appearing in the Channel
towards the end of July 1653. In the hotly-contested
conflict which followed with the English under Monk on
the 29th Tromp was shot by a musket bullet through the
heart. He was buried with great pomp at Delft, where
there is a monument to his memory in the old church.
588
T R O — T R O
' n. CoRJTEilos Tkostp ( 1 629-1 G91), the second son of
the preceding, was bora at Rotterdam on 9th September
1629. At the age of nineteen ha commanded a small
squadron charged to pursue the AJgerian pirates. In 1652
and 1 653 he served in Van Galen's fleet in the Mediter-
ranean, and after the action with the English fleet off
Leghorn, 13th March 1653, in which Van Galen was killed,
Trorap was promoted to be rear-admiral. On 13tli July
1665 his squadron was by a hard stroke of ill fortune de-
feated by the English under the duke of York. In the fol-
lowing year Tromp served under De Rujler, and on acctunt
of De Ruyter's complaints of his negligence in the action
of 5th August he was deprived of his command. He
was, however, reinstated in 1673 by the stadtholder William,
afterwards king of England, and in the actions jf 7th
and 14th June, .'gainst the allied fleets of England and
France, manifested a skill and bravery which comp'etely
justified his reappointment. In 1675 he visited England,
when Charles II. created him a baron. In the followHng
year he was named lieutenant-admiral of the United Pro-
vinces. He died at Amsterdam, 29th May 1691, shortly
after he had been appointed to the command of a fleet
against France. Like his father ho was buried at Delft.
See H. de .Tager, Hct Gcslacht Troup, 18S3. .
TROMSO, a town of Norway, capital of the amt of
the same name and an episcopal see, stands on the eastern
shore of a low fertile islet of the same name between Ilvaloe
and the mainland, in 69° 38' N. lat. and 18° 55' E. long. It
consists principally of one wide street of wooffen houses ;
the chief public buildings are the town-hall, the national
church, the Roman Catholic church, and the museum,
which contains a good zoological collection. The town has
a high school and a normal seminary. The main specialty
of the place is bears' skins and other kinds of fur. The
herring fishery of Tromsii is very productive, and the
activity of the town is further increased by the circum-
stance that it is the port of call for ships making for the
seal fishing and walrus hunting on Spitzbergen and Nova
Zembla. Tromso w-as founded in 1794. The population,
which in 1816 did not exceed 300, was 5409 in 1882.
TRONDHJEM. See Throndhjem.
TROPIC-BIRD, so called of sailors from early times,'
because, as Dampier ( Voyages, i. p. 53) among many
others testifies, it is "never seen far without either
Tropick," and hence, indulging a pretty fancy, Linnaeus
bestowed on it the generic term, continued by modern
writers, of Phaethon, in allusion to its attempt to follow
the path of the sun.'^ There are certainly three well-
marked species of this genus, but their respective geo-
graphical ranges have not yet been definitely laid down.
All of them can be easily known by their totipalmate
condition, in which the four toes of each foot are united
by a web, and by the great length of the two middle
tail-quills, which project beyond the rest, so as <o have
gained for the birds the names of " Rabijunco," 'PaiUe-
€n-queue," and "Pijlstaart" among mariners of difl'erent
nations. These birds fly to a great distance from land
and seem to be attracted by ships, frequently hovering
round or even settling on the mastrhead.
The Yellow. billed Tropicbird, P. fiaviTostris or candidus, appears
to liave habitually the most northerly, as well, perhaps, as tlie
I * More recently sailors have taken to call it *' Bo.itswain-bird " —
'• name probably belonging to a very different kind {cf. Seca).
* Occasionally, perhaps through violent storms, Tropic-birds
wander very far from their proper haunta. In 1700 Leigh, in his N.
B. Lancashire (i. pp. 164, 195, Birds, pi. i. , fig. 3), described and
figured a "Tropick Bird" found dead in that county. Another is
saidliy Mr Lees {Zooloipst, ser. 2, p. 2666) to have been found dead
AtCradley near Malvern — apparently before 1856 {J, H. Gnmey, jun.,
«p. cit., p. 4766)— which, like the last, would seem (W. H. Heaton,
<tp. cil., p. 5086) to have been of the species known as P. a€there\ts.
i^^umaon was told (Rkca, i. p. 25) of its supposed occurrence at
widest range, visiting Bermuda ycirly to breed there, but also
occurring numerously in the southern Atlantic, the Indian, and a
great part of the Pacific Ocean. In some islands of all these three
it breeds, sometimes on trees, which the other species are not
known to do. However, like the rest of its congeners, it lays but a
single egg, and this is of a pinkish white, mottled, spotted, and
smeared with brownish purple, often so closely as to conceal the
ground colour. This is the smallest of the group, and hardly
exceeds in size a large Pigeon ; but the spread of its wings and its
long tail make it appear more bulky than it really is. Except
some black markings on the face {common to all the species
known), a large black patch partly covering the scapulars and
wing-coverts, and the black suaf,.s of its elongated rectrices, its
ground colour is white, glossy as satin, and often tinged with
roseate. Its yellow bill readily distinguislies it from its larger con-
gener P. aethercus, but that has nearly all the upper surface of the
body and wings closely barred with black, while the shafts of its
elongated rectrices are white. Tliis species has a range almost
equally wide as the last; but it does not seem to occur in the
western part of the Indian Ocean. The third and largest species,
the Red tailed Tropic-bird, P. rubricauda or phxnicurus, not only
has a red bill, but the elongated and very attenuated rectrices are
of a bright crimson red, and when adult the whole body shows a
deep roseate tinge. The young are beautifully barred above with
black arrow-headed markings. This species has not been known
to occur in the Atlantic, but is perhaps the most numerous in the
Indian and Pacific Oceans, in which last great value used to be
attached to its tail-feathers to be worked into ornaments.^
That the Tropic-birds form a distinct family, Phaethojif
tidse, of the Sleganopod(s (the Dysporomorphx of Prof.'
Huxley), was originally maintained by Brandt, and is now
generally admitted, yet it cannot be denied that they
differ a good deal from the Other members of the group*;
indeed Prof. Mivart in the Zoological Transactions (x. p.
364) will hardly allow Fregata and Phaethon to be steg-
anopodous at all ; and one curious difference is shown by
the eggs of the latter, which are in appearance so wholly
unlike those of the rest. The osteology of two species
has been well described and illustrated by Prof. Alph.
Milne-Edwards in M. Grandidier's fine Oiseaux de Mada-
gascar (pp. 701-704, pis. 279-281a). (a. n.)
TROPPAU (Slavonic Opava), the chief town of Austrian
Silesia, is a busy commercial place on the right bank of
the Oppa, close to the Prussian border. A well-built town
with extensive suburbs, it has two market-places and con-
tains six churches, an old town-house recently restored in
the Gothic style, and numerous educational, benevolent, and
commercial institutions. The site of the former fortifica-
tions is laid out in pleasant promenades. Troppau manu-
factures large quantities of cloth, especially for the army;
and its industrial establishments include a large sugar-
refinery and manufactories of machines and stoves. In
1880 the population was 20,562. German is spoken in the
town proper, but a dialect of Polish prevails in the suburbs.
Troppau was founded in the 13th century ; but almost its only
claim to historical mention is the fact that in 1820 the monarcba
of Austria, Russia, and Prussia met here to deliberate on the tend-
encies of the Neapolitan revolution. This congress of Troppau,
however, left nearly the whole matter to be considered and decided I
at Laibach. The former principality of Troppau is now divided be- j
tween Austria and Prussia, the latter holding the lion's share. I
TROTZENDORFF, or Tkocedorfids, Valentiu
Friedland (1490-1556), calltd Trotzendorff from his
birthplace, near Gorlitz, in Prussian Silesia, was born on
14lh February 1490, of parents so poor that they could
not keep him at school. The boy taught himself to read
and write while herding cattle; he made paper from birch
bark, and ink from soot. WTien diflSculties were overcome
and he was sent for education to Gorlitz, his mother's last
Heligoland, and Col. Legge {B. Ceylon, p. 1174) mentions one taken
in India 170 miles from the sea. The case cited by MM. Degland and
Gerbe (Ornitk, EuropSen-nt, ii. p. 363) seems to be that of an Albatros.
' A fourth species, P. indkus, has been described froni the Gulf of
Oman, but doubt is expressed as to its vaUdity (c/. Legge, ul supra,
pp. 1173, 1174).
* Sulids (Gaknet), Pdeainidee (Pelican), PMidx (Snake-bibd).
.PAaiaCT-octtracKte^CORMOBANT), and Fregatidm (FaiOATS-BlBO).
T R 0 — T R 0
589
words were " stick to the Sa};o<5L dear son." The words
determined his carcar : I.e oet'used all ecclesiastical promo-
tion, and lived and died a schoolmaster. He be<kme a
distinguished student, learned Ciceronian Latin from Peter
Mosellanus and Greek from Richard Croke, and after
graduation was appointed assistant master in the school
at Gorlitz. There he also taught the rector and other
teachers. When Luther began his ar.ack on indulgences,
Trotzendorff resigned his position and went to study under
Lather and Melanchthon, supporting himself by private
ttiition. Thence he was called to be a master in the
school at Gioidberg in Silesia, and in 1 524 became rector.
There he remained three years, when he was sent to Lieg-
oitz. He returned to Goldberg in 1531 and began that
career which has made him the typical German school-
master of the Reformation period. His system of educa-
tion and disc'oline speedily attracted attention. He made
his best elde. icholajs the teachers of the younger classes,
and insisted that the way to learn was to teach. He
organized the school in such a way that the whole ordi-
nary discipline was in the hands of the boys themselves.
Every month a "consul," twelve "senators," and two
" censors " were chosen from the pupils, and over all Trot-
sendorff ruled as " dictator perpetuus." One hour a day
was spent in going over the lessons of the previous day.
The lessons were repeatedly recalled by examinations,
which were conducted on the plan of academical disputa-
tions. Every week each pupil had to write two " exercitia
styli," one in prose and the other in verse, and Trotzendorff
took pains to see that the subject of each exercise was
something interesting. The fame of the Goldberg school
extended over all Protestant Germany, and a large number
of the more famous men of the following generation were
taught by Trotzendorff. He died on 20th April 1556.
S«e Hemnann, Alcrkwurdige LebcnsgeschichU eines berukmUs
Sehulmans, V. F. Trotzendorffs, 1727 ; Frosch, V. F. Trotzendorff,
Bdctor ru Goldberg, 1818 ; Pinzger, V. F. Trotzendorff (with the
Goldberg portrait, and a complete list of his writings), 1825 ;
KoehJer, V. F. Trotzendorff, ein biographischer Versueh, 1848.
These biographies appear to take all their facts from a funeral or
memorial oration delivered by Balthasar Rhau in the university of
Wittenberg on 15th August 1564, and published in an edition of
Trotzendorff's Rosarium, 1565.
TROUBADOURS. See PEOvENgAi Liteeatuee, vol.
xr. p. 873, and Feajtce, vol. ix. p. 646.
TROUGHTON, Edward (1753-1835), instrument
maker, was born in the parish of Comey in Cumberland
in October 1753. He joined his elder brother John in
carrying on the business of mathematical instrument makers
in Fleet Street, London, and continued it alone after his
brother's death, until he in 1826 took W. Simms as a
partner. He died in London on 12th June 1835.
Tronghton was very successful in improving the mechanical part
of mo3l nautical, geodetic, and astronomical instruments. He was
completely colour-blind, which prevented him from attempting ex-
periments in optics. The first modem transit circle {see Roemer)
was constructed by him in 1806 for Groombridge ; but Troughton
was dissatisfied with this form of instrument, which a few years
afterwards was brongbt to great perfection by Reichenbacb and
Kepsold iqg.v.), and designed the mural circle in its place. The
first instrument of this kind was erected at Greenwich in 1812, and
ten or twelve others were subsequently constructed for other obser-
vatories ; but they were ultima tely^uperseded by Troughton 's earlier
design, the transit circle, by which the two coordinates of an object
can M determined simultaneously. He also made transit instm-
menta, equatorials, &c. ; but his failure to construct an equatorial
mounting of large dimensions, and the consequent lawsuit with
Sir James South, embittered the last years of his life.
TROUT. See Salmomd*; also Angling, vol. ii. p. 41.
TROU VILLE, a fashionable seaside town of France,
cief-lieu of the department of Calvados, and a port of the
English Channel, is situated at the mouth of the river
Touques, on the right bank, 1 36 miles west-north-west of
Paris and 34 north-east of Caen by raO. The climate is
mild, and the neighbourhood well wooded ; there are villas
in all styles of architecture, a casino, and vast stretches of
sand where the visitors (15,000 in 1881) bathe and walk.
With Havre, which lies on the other side of the estuary of
the Seine, 8 or 10 miles off, there is continual steamer com-
munication. In 1886 the population was 5750 (commune
6300). Deauville, on the left bank of the Touques, opposite
Tronville, is remarkable for its casino, terrace, and fine
mansions, but, except during the race-week in August, is
comparatively deserted. In 1886 its population was 2100
(commune 2220). In 1866 a dock, 985 feet in length
by 262 in breadth, with 24 feet of depth at high water,
was constructed between Trouville and Deauville ; in
1882 292 vessels (54,391 tons) entered and 283 (53,510
tons) cleared.
TROVER, or trover and conversion, the name of a form
of action in English law no longer in use, corre.«ponding to
the modem action of conversion. It was brought for
damages for the detention of a chattel, and differed from
detinue in that the latter was brought for the return of the
chattel itself. The name trover is due to the action having
been based on the fictitious averment in the plaintiffs de-
claration that he had lost the goods and that the defendant
had found them. The necessity for this fictitious aver-
ment was taken away by the Common Law Procedure
Act, 1852. An action of trover lay (as an action of con-
version still lies) in every case where the defendant was in
possession of a chattel of the plaintiff and ref ased to de-
liver it up on request, such refusal being prima facie
evidence of conversion. The damages recoverable are
usually the value of the chattel converted. In an action
for detention of a chattel (the representative of the old
action of detinue), the plaintiff may have judgment and
execution by writ of delivery for the chattel itself or for its
value at his option. An action for conversion or detention
must be brought within six years. The corresponding
action in Scotch law is the action of spuilzie. It must be
brought within three years in order to entitle the pursuer
to violent profits, otherwise it prescribes in forty years.
TROWBRIDGE, an ancient town of Wilts, England,
is situated on the river Mere or Biss, a feeder of the Avon,
and on a branch of the Great Western Railway, 33 miles
north-west of Salisbury and 97^ west of London. The
parish church of St James is an ancient stone structure in
the Gothic style, with a west square tower, surmounted by
a spire 159 feet in height, and a baptistery (1885). The
site of the ancient castle was at the mound called Courthill,
but all traces of it have long disappeared, it having been
demolished before the reign of Henry VIII. Among the
charitable institutions are the Edward and Yerbury alms-
houses (1698), the old men's almshouses, and the cottage
hospital (1886). There are a market house and a town
haU. Public gardens 4 acres in extent were opened in
1884. A water company (incorporated in 1873) supplies
the town with water from the chalk hills in the neigh-
bourhood of Biss. The principal industry is the manu-
facture of kerseymere and of broad and other woollen
cloths, established as early as the reign of Henry VIII.
The town is governed by a local board of health of twenty-
one members. The population of the urban sanitary dis-
trict (area 2080 acres) in 1871 was 11,508, and in 1881
it was 11,040.
The town was defended in behalf of Matilda a^inst Stephen by
Humphrey de Bohun. By Leland it is called Throughbridge oi
Thorough bridge. Anciently it was a royal manor forming part of
the duchy of Lancaster, having been granted by the crown to John
of Gaunt Afterwards it reverted to the crown and was given by
Henry VIII. in the 28th year of his reign to Sir Edward Seymour.
It again lapsed to the crown under Elizabeth, and in the 24th year
of her reign was assigned to Edward, earl 6f Hertford. By mar-
riage it passed to the Rutland family, who, however, eventually
sold it. It formerly gave the title of baron to the Seymonr familj.'
The poet Crabbe was rector of the parish from 1814 to 1832.
690
T R O — T R U
TROY. See Teoad.
TROY, a city of the United States, cotmty seat of
Rensselaer county, New York, is situated in 42° 44' N.
lat. and 73° 41' W. long., upon the east bank of the
Hudson river, at the head of tide water. It is nearly
north of New York City (147 miles) and somewhat north
of west from Boston (136 miles). The city, which has a
length of about 4 miles, with an average breadth of 1
mile, is built mainly upon a level terrace slightly elevated
above the river, but of late years the residence portion
has extended up the hills (rising to 400 feet) which limit
this plain on the east. It is in the main regularly laid out,
and ia traversed by street railways. Troy is situated at
what is practically the terminus of the Erie Canal, con-
necting the Hudson river (here navigable for vessels of 8
to 10 feet draught) with Lake Erie, and of the Champlain
Canal. It has three railroads, by which it is connected
with New York on the south, Buffalo on the west, and also
with the east and north. The principal industries, which
in 1880 gave employment to 22,434 persoijs, are metal-
working, especially in iron and steel, and the making of
stoves and linen goods. The value of the products was
826,497,163. The city is the seat of the Rensselaer
Polytechnic Institute, which was for many years the lead-
ing engineering school of the United States, and still
maintains a high reputation. The population, which in
1810 was only 3895, had in 1830 risen to 11,556, and
by 1880 to 66,747 (27,154 males and 29,593 females, the
excess of the latter being explained by the large number
of women employed as factory operatives). The propor-
tion of foreign born (16,938) was large.
The city was founded in 1787 by the Dutch, under the nam? of
Vanderheyden, and two years later the present name was adopted.
In 1794 it was incorporated as a village, and in 1815 it received a
city charter. The opening of the Erie and the Champlain Canals
in 1823 insured its prosperity and rapid growth.
TROY, JziH FRA.VC0I3 DE (1679-1752), a French
painter, highly endowed by nature, was born at Paris in
1679 He received his first lessons from his father, him-
self a skilful portrait-painter, who afterwards sent his son
to Italy. There his amusements occui-ied him fully as
much as his studies ; but his ability was such that on his
return he was at once made an official of the Academy
and obtained a large number of orders for the decoration
of public and private buildings, executing at the same
time a quantity of easel pictures of very unequal merit.
Amongst the most considerable of his works are thirty-
sis compositions painted for the hotel of De Live (1729),
and a series of the story of Esther, designed for the
Gobelins whilst De Troy was director of the school of
France at Rome (1738-51), — a post which he resigned in
a fit of irritation at court neglect. He did not expect
to be taken at his word, but found himself forced to.
return to France, and was making ready to leave when
he died suddenly (24th January 1752) of an attack on
the lungs.
His desire to make a figure in the world led him to neglect his
more serious duties and injured his professional reputation. The
life-size painting (Louvre) of the First Chapter of the Order of the
Holy Ghost held by Henry IV., in the church of the Grands
Augustins, is one of his most complete performances, and his
dramatic composition, the Plague at Marseilles, is widely known
through the excellent engraving of Thomassia. The Cochins, father
BDd son, Fesaard, Galimard, Bauvarlet, Heriaset, and the painters
Boucher and Parrocel have engraved and etched the works of
DeTroy.
TROY, West. See West Teot.
TROYES, a town of France, formerly the capital of
Champagne, and now chef-lieu of the department of Aube,
and an episcopal see, is 104 miles south-east of Paris by
the railvray to Belfort, at the junction of the line from
Orieans to ChAlons. Several arms of the Seine and also I
the Haute-Seine Canal run through the town. The cathedral
" of St Peter and St Paul, the building of which lasted from
1206 till the 16th century, ctill wants the south tower.
The choir, the end chapels, and the sacristry were restored
in 1849-1866. The 16th-century facade, with mutilated
bas-reliefs and statues, is surmounted by the tower of St
Peter (230 feet). The choir, one of the most beautiful in
France, belongs to the 13th century, as does also its re-
markable glass. The treasury contains gospels of the
11th and 12 th centuries, precious stones brought from the
East at the time of the crusades, and ancient and beautiful
lace; The unfinished church of St Urban, begun in 1262
at the expense of Urban IV., Is a charming specimen of
the best period of Gothic architecture, the side portals
being remarkably light and delicate. The church of St
Madeleine, built at the beginning of the 12th century,
enlarged in the 1 6tli, and recently restored, contains a rich
rood-screen by Jean de Gualde (1508). In 1420 the treaty
of Troyes was signed in the church of St John, where
Henry V. of England and Catherine of France were sub-
sequently married. The church of St -Remy, with a
Romanesque tower, the churches of St Nizier and St
Nicholas, both of the 1 6th century, and that of St Pantaloon,
of the 16th and 17th, should also be noticed. There are
some ctirious fireplaces in the town hall (17th century),
and the municipal archives contain the correspondence of
the dukes of Lorraine and Guise. The old abbey of St
Loup is occupied by the library (80,000 volumes and 2720
manuscripts) and a museum containing numerous collec-
tions ; that relating to natural history is rich in ornithology
and entomology, and has many aerolites. Most of the old
houses of Troyes are of wood, but some of stone of th*
16th century are remarkable for their beautiful and
original architecture. The chief industry of Troyes and
the surrounding district is the manufacture of cotton and
woollen hosiery, which is woven almost entirely by hand,
and is exported to America and Switzerland. One-fourth
of the population live by subsidiary industries. There are
14 cotton mills with 10,000 spindles, bleaching, dressing,
and dye works, workshops for making looms, needle factories,
iron and copper foundries, 8 flour mills, and nursery and
market gardens. A trade is carried on in pork and cheese.
A few mUes from the town stands the curious church of
St Andrew (1 Cth century), with a remarkable portal The
population in 1886 was 46,972 (46,067 in 1881).
At the beginning of the Roman period Troyes (Augusfabmia)
was the principal settlement of the Tricassi. It was christianized
in the 3rd century, and its bishop St Loup (426-479) founded
renowned schools, and averted the fury of Attila. In 48) Troyes
passed into the hands of Clovis, and belonged sometimes to Neustria,
sometimes to Austrasia, till all Gaul was united under Charles MarteL
la 878 Pope John VIII. presided at a council in Troyes. The
town was fired and sacked by the Saracens in 720, and by the
Normans in 889 and 905. In 1229 Theobald IV , besieged in his
capital, was delivered by king Louis IX., and in 1230 he granted
the inhabitants a municipal charter. From this time the fairs of
Troyes became celebrated. During the captivity ol King John in
England, Troyes resisted all attacks, and after Agincourt took the
part of the Burguudians. In 1417 the rule of Queen Isabeau of
Bavaria was estcblished in Troyes, where in 1418 the parlement of
Paris met ; and on 21st Jlay 1420 Henry V. of England, Charles
VI. of France, Isabeau, and Philip of Burgundy signed the famous
treaty of Trojes. On 9th July J429 the town 'capitulated to Joan
of Arc In the 1 6th century Protestantism made rapid progress,
but in 1562 the Huguenots were forced to retire to Bar-surSeine ;
after the massacre of ,St Bartholomew in Paris, the Calvinists in the
prisons of Troyes met the same fate. In 1677 the inhabitants
joined the League, and only opened their gates to Henry IV. in
1594 In 1787 the parlement of Paris again met here. In 1814
both the allied and the imperial armies occupied Troyes ; and io '
1870 the town was occupied by the Germans.
TROYES, CHEESTfEN DB. See Cheestteji db Trotbs, ]
and Romance, vol. xx. p. 645.
TRUCE OF GOD. The orderiy administration of
justice and the universal peace, which the Roman empirft
T R U — T R U
591
established from the Euphrates to the Atlantic, did not
long suryivo the inroads of the Teutonic tribes who in
western Europe divided the inheritance of the Latin world.
All the early Teutonic codes, being based, however remotely,
on the right of private war and private vengeance, might
discourage, but were powerless to abolish, the instinct
which impels the members of half-civilized commimivies
to avenge their own wrongs. Hence the jinx Romana
died with the empire ; nor could the splendid organization
of Charlemagne do more than effect a very partial resusci-
tation of it. Throughout the 9th "and 10th centuries, as
the life-beaeficc3 of the later Carolingian kings became
gradually transformed Into hereditary tiefs, the insecurity
of life and property grew greater ; for there was no central
power to curb the injustice of the petty dukes and counts
who warred and pillaged at their will. At this moment,
when western Europe threatened to sink back into the
chaos from which it had been won by Rome, the church
came forward to arrest the process of its dissolution.
Speaking at first in her own interest and in that of the
poor, whose great protector she claimed to be, she decreed
a special peace for the unarmed clerk and the industrious
husbandman. The council of Charroux in Poitou led
the way ia 989. With the opening of the next century
the movement spread over Aquitaine and the rest of
France. Everywhere the bishops set themselves to exact
from the whole diocese, noble and simple alike, a novel
oatb to abstain from violence and to respect the sanctity
of cliurches. William V. of Aquitaine, the most powerful
lord of southern France, lent his influence to the cause at
the councils of Limoges (994) and Poitiers (999). The latter
council prescribed the methods by which all who violated
their solemn engagement should be punished. The times,,
however, were hardly ripe for the inauguration of an era
of peace. Gerard of Soissons, perhaps, was not the only
bishop who eyed this dream of universal harmony askance,
as tending to encroach on the king's prerogative (see
Bouquet, X. 201) ; and, on the whole, it may be said that
the "Peace of God" was at best but a somewhat ineffectual
protection to churches, priests, and labourers. If there
was any hope of restraining the mutual feuds of the barons
it must be by other means. And here the church again, re-
cognizing the impossibility of absolutely stopping all feudal
warfare, endeavoured to limit it. This limitation of the
right of perpetual warfare, .reduced to writing, sanctioned
by an oath, and confirmed by the decrees of councils,
assumed the name of the " Truce of God " (freva or trtuga
Dei). The truce of God seems to have been first estab-
lished at the synod of Tuluges, near Perpignan in PtoussO-
lon, on 16th May 1027. In accordance with its decrees
all warfare was to be suspended from noon on Saturday
till prime on Monday ; and the peace of God was perman-
ently extended to all monks, clerks, bishops, and churches.
Like the pax ecclesix, this laudable example w-as soon fol-
lowed elsewhere. About 1041 it extended itself over
Aquitaine and all France; in 1042 the council of Caen,
under the sanction of Duke William, established it in
Normandy — a country in which, according to a contempo-
rary writer (Rodolph Glaber, v. 1), it was not at first
accepted. By this time its terms had been much enlarged ;
and we may perhaps take the provisions of a second synod
at Tuluges (1041) as representing its normal form. Ac-
cording to this synod the treuga Dei was to last from the
Wednesday evening to the Monday morning in every
week, from the beginning of Advent to the octave of the
Epiphany, from the beginning of Lent till the octave of
Pentecost, for the feasts of the Holy Cross, the three great
feasts of the Virgin, and those of the twelve apostles and
^ft few other saints. More usually the interval between
itbe Epiphany octave and Lent and that from Easter to
Rogations were left subject to the weekly truce only.
Thus from being a mere local institution it spread rapidly
over all France, and seems to have crossed into Germany,
Italy, Spain, and England. It had also its special courts
and methods of procedure. Excommunication and banish-
ment for seven or thirty years were its penalties. Before
long both the pax ecdesix and the treuga Dei were sanc-
tioned by the holy see. Special clauses were added to
protect pilgrims, women, merchants, monks, and clerks ;
while the cattle and agricultural implements of the peasant
— his ox, horse, plough, and even his olive-trees — were
covered by the Kgis of the church. The first clause of
the council of Clermont (1095), at which Urban II. preached
the first crusade, proclaimed the weekly truce for all
Christendom, and perhaps enjoined it in its most extended
form, adding also a clause by which the oath was to be
renewed every three y^rs by all men above the age of
twelve, whether noble, burgess, villain, or serf.^ The same
council seems to have accorded safety to all who took re-
fuge at a wayside cross (cap. 29) or at the plough (homines ad
carrucas fugientes). The truce of God was most powerful
in the 12th century, during which period it was sanctioned
both by local and papal councils, such as that held at
Rheims by CalLxtus II. in 1 1 1 9, and the Lateran councils of
1139 and 1179. "With the 13th century its influence began
to decline, as the power of the king gradually led to the
substitution of the king's peace for that of the church.
For an exhaustive account of the whole question, see 11. Semi-
chon's book, to which the above article is largely indebted.
TRUCK- SYSTEM. See Laboue, vol. siv. p. .172, and
Wages.
TRUFFLE, the name of several different species of sub-
terranean fungi which are used as food. The species sold
in English markets is Tuber sesUvum ; the commonest
species of French markets is T. melaiwsporum, and of
Italian the garlic-scented T. magnatmn. Of the three,
the English species is the least excellent, and the French
is possibly the best. The truffle used for Perigord pia
{p&tc de foie gras) is T. melunosporum. When, however,
the stock of T. melanospoirum happens to be deficient, some
manufacturers use inferior species of Tuber, such as the
worthless or dangerous Chosromyces meandrifomiis. Even
the rank and offensive Scleroderma vulgare (one of the puff-
ball series of fungi) is sometimes used for stuffing turkeys,
sausages, &c. Indeed, good truffles, and then only T. sati-
vum, are seldom seen in English markets. The taste of T.
melanosporum can be detected in Perigord pie of good
quality. True and false truffles can easily be distinguished
under the microscope.
Tuber sestiimm, the English tnilHe, ia roundish in shape, covered
srith coarse polygonal warts, black in colour outside and brownish
and veined with white within ; its average size is about that of a
small apple. It grows from July till autumn or 'v iter, and pre-
fers beech, oak, and birch woods on argillaceous or calcareous soil,
and has sometimes been observed in pine woods. It grows gregari-
ously, often in company with T. Irrumale and (in France and Italy)
T. melanosporum, and sometimes appears in French markets with
these two species, as well as with T. meseniericum. The odour of
T. sMlimim is very strong and penetrating ; it is generally esteemed
powerfully fragrant, and its taste is considered agreeable. Its price
in England is two or three shillings a pound. The common French
truffle, T. melanosporum, is a winter species. The tubers are
globose, bright brown or black in colour, and rough with polygonal
warts ; the mature flesh is blackish grey, marbled within with white
veins. It is gathered in autumn and winter in beech and oak
woods, and is frequently seen in Italian markets, where it is some-
times sold for 12s. 6d. a pound. The odour of. T. melanosponim
is very pleasant, especially when the tubers are young, then some-
what resembling that of the strawberry ; with age. the smell gets
very potent, bat is never considered really unpleasant. The com-
mon Italian truffle, T. mojpuUum, is pallid ochreous or brownish
bufl" in colour, smooth or minutely papillose, irregularly globose,
and lobed ; the interior is a very pale brownish liver colour veined
^ Labbe's Concilia, xx. 816 ; with which c/. Semicbon, La Paiz el
la Trlvt de Dim, Paris, 1869, p. 125.
592
T R U — T RU
with white. It grows towards the end of aatumn in plantations
of willows, poplars, and oaks, on clayey soil Sometimes it occurs
in open cultivated fields. The odour of the mature fungus is very
potent, and is like strong garlic, onion, or decaying cbeese. T.
bntmaU, referred to above, grows in Britain. It is a winter trufile,
and is found chiefly under oaks and abele trees from October to
December. It ia black in colour, globose, mora or less regular
in shape, and is covered with sharp polygonal warts ; the mature
6esh is blackish grey marbled with white veins. The odour is very
stron" and lasts a long time ; the taste is generally esteemed agree-
able. Ch/eromyas meandrifonniSf which occurs in Britain, is some-
times sold for T. TnagTuUum, the colour of the flesh of both species
being somewhat similar. Scleroderma vulgarc, the "false truffle,"
is extremely common on the surface of the ground in woods, and
is gathered by Italians and Frenchmen in Epping Forest for the
inferior dining-rooms of London where Continental dishes are
served. It is a worthless, offensive, and possibly dangerous fungus.
A true summer truffle, T. tmsenUricum, found in oak and birch
woods on calcareous clay soU, is frequently eaten on the Continent
It is esteemed equal to T. astivum. It probably grows in Britain.
Another edible species, T. ■macrosporuTri, also grows in Britain,
in clayey places under young beeches and oaks, on the borders of
streams and roads, and sometimes in fields ; more rarely it grows
in plantations of willow and poplar. It has a strong scent of
onions or garlic Tcrfezia leonis, a famous truffle of Italy, Algeria,
Sardinia, &c., resembles externally a potato. It grows in March,
April, and May. Some persons eat it in a raw otate, sliced, and
dipped in oil or ^gg. It is not scented, and its taste is generally
considered insipid or soapy. Sometimes an ally of the puff-balls,
and therefore {like Scleroderma) not a true truffle, MclanogasUr
variegaiiiy, is eaten in England and France. It has been, and
possibly still is, occasionally sold in England under the name of
"red truffle." It is a small ochreous brown species with a strong
aromatic and pleasant odour of bitter almonds. When the plant
is eaten raw the taste is sweet and sugary, but when cooked it is
hardly agreeable. The odour belonging to many traffles is so
potent that their places of growth can be readily detected by the
odonr exhaled from the ground. Squirrels, hogs, and other animals
commonly dig up truffles and devour them, and pigs and dogs have
long been trained to point out the places where they grow. Pigs
will always eat truffles and dogs will do so occasionally ; it is there-
fore usual to give the trained pig or dog a small piece of cheese or
Bome little reward each time it is successful Truffles are repro-
duced by spores, bodies which serve the same purpose as seeds in
flowering plants ; in true truffles the spores are borne in transparent
asci or sacs, from four to eight spores in each ascus. The asci are
Spores of the chief European truffles. Enlarged 600 dlametera. 1, Tuber
aatimtm ; 2, T. brumalr ; 3, T. melanosporun ; 4, T. meseniericum', 6, T. mag-
natum; 6, CTurromycu vuandriformit ; 7, Sclerodervui vulgare; 8, Meianogas-
ter variegalUA.
embedded in vast numbers in the flesh of the truffle. In false
truffles the spores are free and are borne on minute spicules or
•upports. The spores of the chief European truffles, true and false,
enlarged five hundred diameters, are shown in the accompanying
illustration. Many references to truffles occur in classical authors.
The truffle Elaphomyces variegalus was till quite recent times used,
under the name of Hart's nut or Lycoperdoo nut, oa account of its
supposed aphrodisiac qualities.
j TRUMBULL, the surname of more than one individual
of note in the literature, art, and politics of America.
I 1 Benjamin Teumbull was born at Hebron, Connecti-
cut, on 19th December 1735, and died at North Hpven,
Connecticut, on 2d February 1820. He graduated at Yale
in 1759, and entered the ministry. His literary work was
considerable, the most important being the standard His-
tory of Connecticut to 1 764.
2. JoHH TBUMBtTU. was born at Waterbury; Connecti
cnt, on 24th April 1750, and died at Detroit, Michigan,
oa 12th May 1831 He graduated at Yale in 1767, and
became a lawyer and author of high reputation. EQs best >
work is iPFingal, a Hudibrastic poein, intended to 8ery»
the WTiig side in the American Revolution.
3. JoHJf TBUMBtrLL, son of the following, was bom at
Lebanon, Connecticut, on 6th June 1756, and died at New
York City, on 10th November 1843. He graduated at
Harvard ia 1773, studied painting with Benjamin West in
London, and left at his death a number of historical works.
The earlier of these are the better , the later and larger
were painted for the capitol at Washington.
4. Jonathan Tritmbdli was born at Lebanon, Con.
necticut, on 10th June 1710, and died at the same place
on 17th August 1785. He graduated at Harvard in 1727,
and became a lawyer and colonial politician. Ilia place
in American history was gained as governor of Connecticut
from 1769 until 1783, through the whole period of the
American Revolution. He was a trusted supporter and
confidential adviser of Washington, who was accustomed
to speak of him as " brother Jonathan," and the term has
since passed into popular use as equivalent to the people
of the United States.
5. Jonathan Tedmbdll, son of the preceding, was born
at Lebanon, Connecticut, on 26th March 1740, and died
at the same place on 7 th August 1809. He graduated
at Harvard in 1769, and served as member of congress,
1 78^-95 (being speaker of the house of representatives dur-
ing the last two years of his terra), as United States senator,
1795-96, and as governor of Connecticut, 1798-1809.
TRUMPET, a musical instrument, consisting of a long,
narrow brass tube, cylindrical for the greater part of its
length: the fusiform development which terminates in the
bell or opening of the lower end only begins at a point
that varies from a third to a fourth of the total length
from that extremity. The air inside is set in vibration
by the lips (which act as true reeds) applied to the edges
of a basin-like mouthpiece fitted to the upper part of the
instrument. The material has nothing to do with the
production of that brilliant quality of tone by which the
trumpet is so easily distinguished from every other mouth-
piece instnunent . the difference b partly due to the dis-
tinct form given to the basin of the mouthpiece, but prin-
cipally to the proportions of the column of air determined
by the conical or cylindrical form of its envelope.
The possibility of producing sonorous disturbance of a
mass of air through a mouthpiece, or more simply through
the orifice of the tube, has been known from a very early
period, — a shell bored at its extremity, or a horn with
the point removed, being without doabt the most ancient
instrument for producing sound. Nearly all the nations
of antiquity had mouthpiece instruments ; but the greater
number of these, though grouped under the general de-
signation of trumpets, have only a very distant relationship
to the modem instrument The Romans had four such
instmments, — the ivha, bucana, comu, ana lituvs The
tuba, represented m the bas-reliefs of the triumphal arch of
Titus, was a kind of straight bronze clarion, with a conical
column of air. It \a ordinarily designated the Roman trum-
pet, and was about 39 inches long , its compass should not
go beyond the first six proper notes of the harmonic scale.
The Roman tuba and the Greek salpinx are "apposed to be
one and the same instriunent The bu"- ina was also of
bronze, with a tube measuring fully 1 1 ftet in length Tho
tube is only slightly conical, and the quality of tone bears a
striking resemblance to that of the bass trombone in G ,
the proper tones for bar
monies were those sub-
joined ' The cornu was 3 *
often made of a bullock's born, but bronze was also employed,
' The diflScnlty of producing the fundamental or first proper not*
Increases with the length and narrowness of the tube. "The propor-
tions of the bucclos render the production of this note very difflCTlL
TRUMPET
593
as in a specimen ia the BritisTi Museum. This instrument
measured 4 feet 6 inches in length, and the scale was
J^»^ that herewith shown. The
: Koman cornu was probably
~t> ■* ' like the Greek keras. The
three preceding instruments were used in giving signals
to the infantry. The cavalry calls were given with the
litnuB, a specimen of which exists in the museum of the
Vatican, found in 1827 in a tomb at Cerveteri (Caere).
The tube is cylindrical for the greater part of its length, its
conical development beginning only at the lower end,
where the instrument begins to curve. The lituus easily
produces the accompanying
proper notes ; its quality of S
tone is like that of a trumpet .-w
in G. In Ireland and Denmark numerous mouthpiece
instruments in bronze have been found, sixteen different
specimens being preserved in the museum of the Royal
Iiish Academy at Dublin, and six (of which facsimiles
exist in South Kensington Museum) in the miiseum at
Copenhagen. But none of these have the proportions of
a triunpet ; all, by the conical development of the tube as
well as by the curved form, recall their first model, the
horn, successive transformations of which have given rise
to the clarion and the numerous family of bugles.
We have no precise information as to the form which
the lituus, the ancestor of the modern trumpet, assumed
during the Middle Ages. A miniature in the Bible ' pre-
sented in 850 to Charles the Bald places the lituus in
the hands of one of the companions of King David, but
we are not warranted in concluding from this that the
Etruscan instrument was in use in the 9th century. The
earliest representation of the trumpet with its present
proportions of tube and form of bell seems to belong to
the 15th century. Fra Angelico (d. 1455) has painted
angels with trumpets having either straight or zigzag
tubes, the shortest being about 5 feet long. The perfect
representation of the details, the exactness of the propor-
tions, the natural pose of the angel players, suggest that
the artist painted the instruments from real models.
The credit of having bent the tube of the trumpet in
three parallel branches, thus creating its modern form,
has usually been claimed for a Frenchman named Maurin
(1498-1515). But the transformation was reaUy made in
Italy about the middle of the 1 5th century, as is proved
by the bas-reliefs of Luca della Robbia intended to orna-
ment the organ chamber of the cathedral of Florence (see
vol. sx. p. 588) ; there a trumpet having the tube bent
back as just described is very distinctly figured. From
the beginning of the 16th century we have numerous
sources of information. Virdung ^ cites three kinds of
mouthpiece instruments — the felUntmei, the clareta, and
the thumer ham ; unfortunately he does not mention their
distinctive characters, and it is impossible to make them
out by examination of his engravings. Probably the
felttrumet and the olareta closely resembled each other ;
but the compass of the former, destined for military sig-
nals, hardly went beyond the 8th proper tone, while the
latter, reserved for high parts; was like the clarino (see
below). The thumer horn was probably a kind of
clarino or clarion used by watchmen on the towers. The
trummet and the jdger trommel are the only two mouth-
piece instruments of the trumpet kind cited by Prcetorius.'
The first was tuned in D at the chamber pitch or " kam-
merton," but -with the help of a shank it could be put
in C, the equivalent of the " chorton " D, the two differ-
ing about a tone. Sometimes the trummet was lowered
' In the Bibliotheque Nationale at Paris.
* Musica getiUschi und a-u^zgczogen, Basel, 1511,
• Orgarwgraphia, Wolfenbuttel, 1619.
to B and even BS>. The jager trommet, or " trompette de
chasse," was composed of a tube bent several times in
circles, like the posthorn, to make use of a comparison
employed by Pr«torius himself. His drawing does not
make it clear whether the column of air was like that of
the trumpet ; there is therefore some doubt as to the true
character of the instrument. The same author further
cites a wooden trumpet [hblzem trommet), which is no
other than the Swiss alpen-horn or Norwegian luur.
Merserme's * information is not very instructive ; but he-
gives a description of the sourdine, a kind of mute or
damper introduced into the bell, already employed in his
time, and still made use of to weaken the sound. The
shape of the trumpet, as seen in the bas-reliefs of Luca
della Robbia, was retained for more than three hundred
years : the first alterations destined to revolutionize the
whole technique of the instrument were made about the
middle of the 18th century. Notwithstanding the im-
perfections of the trumpet during this long period, the
performers upon it acquired an astonishing dexterity.
The usual scale of the typicaT trumpet, that in D, is
PraBtorius exceeds the limits of this compass in the higher range,
for he says a good trumpeter could produce the subjoined notes.
j-s_ jjs. -^ ^ This opinion is shared by Bach, who,
T^ T~ -I — •*— in a trumpet solo which ends the
cantata "Der Himmel lacht," wrote up
to the twentieth of these sounds. So
considerable a compass could not be reached by one instrumentalist :
the tiTimpet part had therefore to be divided, and each division
was designated by a special name." The fundamental or first
proper note was called JlaUergroh, the second grobsfimTne, the
third faulstiTnme, the fourth raitiehiimme. The part that wa»
called principal went from the fifth to the tenth of these tones.
The higher region, which had received the name of " clarino," waa
again divided into two parts : the first began at the eighth proper
tone and mounted up towards' the extreme high limit of the com-
pass, according to the skill of the executant ; the second, beginning
at the sixth proper tojie, rarely went beyond the twelfth. Each of
these parts was confided to a special trumpeter, who executed it by
using a larger or a smaller mouthpiece.
Playing the clarino diflered essentially from playing the military
trumpet, which corresponded in compass to that called principal.
Compelled to employ very small mouthpieces to facilitate the emis-
sion of very high sounds, clarino players could not fail to alter the
tone of the instrument, and instead of getting the brilliant and
energetic quality of tone of the mean register they were only
able to produce more or less doubtful notes without power and
splendour. Apart from this inconvenience, the clarino presented
numerous deviations from just intonation. Hence the players of
that time failed to obviate the bad effects inevitably resulting from
the natural imperfection of the harmonic scale of the trumpet
in that extreme part of its compass; in the execution, for instance,
of the works of Bach, where the trumpet si ould give sometime*
h m -, and p - £• — , the instrumentalist could only com-
■(S) I z: some- M) i — Tmand the eleventh proper tone, which
*T times vT is neither the one nor the other of these.
Further, the thirteenth proper tone, for which p T*" is written,
is really too flat, and it is absolutely im- (n\ ' - possible to
remedy this defect, since it entirely depends \)' upon the
laws of resonance affecting coluLins of air.
Since the abandonment of the clarino (about the middle of the
18th centuiy) our orchestras have been enriched with trumpets
that permit the execution of the old clarino parts, not only with
perfect justness of intonation, but with a quality of tone that is
not deficient in character when compared with the mean register
of the old principal instrument. The introduction of the clarinet
or little clarino is one of the causes which led to the abandonment
of the older instrument and may explain the preference given by
the composers of that epoch to the mean register of the trumpet.
The clarino having disappeared before Mozart's day, he had to
change the trumpet parts of Handel and Bach to allow of their
execution by the performers of his own time. It was now that
crooks began to be frequently used. Trumpets were made in F
instead of in D, furnished with a series of shanks of increasing
length for the tonalities of E, El>, D, Dl», C, B, Bj), and sometimes
even A.
* Harmonie Universelle, Paris, 1636.
° Der «wA seWst informxTcnde Musitus, Augsburg, 1762, by Lotter.
Zi — i^
594
T R U — T R U
I The first attempts to extend the limited resources of the instru-
ment ill its new employment arose out of Hampel's idea of lowering
the harmonic sounds by introducing the hand into the bell. But,
instead of fimng the shanks between the mouthpiece and the upper
extremity, they were adapted to the body of the instrument itself
by a double slide, upon the two branches of which tubes were in-
serted bent in the form of a ciccle and gradually lengthened as
required. This modified instrument became known as .the "in-
vention horn." This system was applied to the trumpet by
lliclicl Woegel (born at Rastatt in 1748), whose "iavention
trumpet" had a great success, notwithstanding the unavoidable
imperfection of a too great disparity in quality of tone between the
open and the closed sounds. The idea of applying the trombone
sfidc to the trumpet is obvious. The slide trumpet is mentioned
by T. E. Altenburg.' who compares it, and with reason, to the alto
trombone ; and there are grounds for identifying it with the
"tromba da tirarsi" employed by J. S. Bach in some of his com-
positions. Tlie slide trumpet is still used in England in a some-
what modiBcd form. About 1760, Kolbel, a Russian musician,
applied a key to the horn, and soon afterwards the trumpet re-
ceived a similar addition. By opening this key, which is placed
iiear the bell, the instrument was raised a diatonic semitone, and
by correcting errors of intonation by the pressure of the lips in
the mouthpiece the following diatonic succession was obtained.
4— This invention was improved
_ in ISOl by Weidinger, trum-
peter to the imperial court
at Vienna, who increased the number of keys and thus made the
trumpet chromatic thoughout its scale. The
instrument sliown in the accompanying figure
is in G , the keys are five in number, and as
they open one after another or in combination
it is possible to connect the second proper tone
-with the third by chromatic steps, and thus
produce the following succession. The number
-^ of keys
^=—:^ was ap-
•^ filuiptho
,ig i ^
gaps between the extreme sounds of the interval
of a fifth ; and a like result was arrived at more
«asily for the intervals of the fourth, the major
th»rd, &C-, furnished by the proper tones of 3, 4,
5. &c. But, though tlie keyed trumpet was a
notable imjiroveraent on the invention trumpet,
the sounds obtained by means of the lateral open-
ings of the tube did not possess the qualities
vbich distinguish sounds caused by the reson-
•nce of the air-column vibrating in its entirety.
But in 1815 Stolzel made a genuine chromatic
trumpet by the invention of the ventile or
piston ; for this ingenious mechanism, see
TnoMiwNE. The simple trumpet is now no
longer employed except iu cavalry regiments. Keyed trumpet.
It IS usually in E}). The bass trumpet in Ei>, which is ah octave
lower, is sometimes, but rarely, used. Trumpets wilh pistons are
generally constructed in F, with cr^^oks in E and EJ>. In Ger-
many trumpets in the high Bl? with a crook in A are very often
used in the orchestra. They are easier for cornet i piston players
th.iii the trumpet iu F. Tlie present writer has recently constructed
for the concerts of the Conservatoire at Brussels trumpets in the
Iiigli D, an octave above the old trumpet in the same key. They
jtermit the execution of the high trumpet parts of Handel and J. S.
bacli. T!ie b.ass trumpet with pistons used for Wagner's tetralogy
IS 111 E|j. in unison with the ordinary trumpet with crooks of D
and C , but, when constructed so as to allow of the production of
the second proper tone as written by this master, this instrument
belon^^s rather to the trombones than to tlie trumpets. (V. M.)
TRUMPET, Speaking and Hearing. The speaking
trumpet, though some instrumeni of the kind appears to
have been in earlier use in more than one part of the
world, is connected in its modern form with the name of
Athanasius Kircher and that of Sir Samuel Morland, who
in 1670 proposed to the Royal Society of London the ques-
tion of the best form for a speaking trumpet. Lambert, in
the Berlin Memoirs for 1763, seems to have been the first to
give a theory of the actjon of this instrument, based on an
altogether imaginary analogy with the behaviour of light.
In this theory, which is still commonly put forward, it is
assumed that sound, like light, can be propagated in rays.
This, however, is possible only when the aperture through
* Versuch einer AnUitung zur heroisch-musilcaliscken Trompeter-
und Paliker-Kunst, Halle, 1795.
which the wave-disturbance passes into free air is largo
compared with the wave-ler.glh. If the fusiform mouth
of the speaking trumpet were half a mile or so in radius,
Lambert's theory might give an approximation to the
truth. But with trumpets whose aperture is only a foot
in diameter at most the problem is o..j rf diffraction ;
and it has not yet been seriously studied from this point
of view.
In the case of the hearing trumpet, the disturbance is
propagated along the converging tube much in the samo
way as the tide-wave is propagated up the estuary of a
tidal river.
Until the theory has been rigorously worked out tht
only safe course to adopt in manufacturing either class of
instruments is to be guided by the results of varied trials.
The theoretical foundations of the subject will be found
in Lord Rayleigh's Sound and in Sir G. Airy's Tides and
Waves, respectively. In speaking and hearing .trumpets
alike all reverberation of the instrument should be avoided
by making it thick and of the least elastic materials, -and
by covering it externally with cloth.
TRUMPETER, or Trumpet-Bird, the literal rendering
in 1747, by the anonymous English translator of D6
la Condamine's travels in South America (p. 87), of that
writer's " Oiseau trompette " {Mem. de I'Acad. des Sciences,'
1745, p. 473), which he says was called "Trompetero"
by the Spaniards of Maynas on the upp'er Amazons, from
the peculiar sound it utters. He added that it was the
" Agami " of the inhabitants of Para and Cayenne,^ w:herein
he was not wholly accurate, since those birds afe specifically
distinct, though, as they are generically united, the state-
ment may pass. But he was also wrong, as had been
Barrere (France Equinoxiale, p. 132) in 1741, in identify-
ing the " Agami " with the " Macucagua " of Marcgrave,
Wlite-winged trumpeter {Psopkia leiicoplera). After MitchelL
for that is a Tinamou (q.v.) ; and both still more wrongly
accounted for the origin of the peculiar sound just men-
tioned, whereby Barrere was soon after led (Omith. Spec
Jfomim, pp. 62, 63) to apply to the bird the generic and
vulgar names of Psophia and "Petteuse," the former of
which, being unfortunately adopted by Linnasus, has ever
since been used, though in 1766 and 1767 Pallas (Miscel-
lanea, p. 67, and Spicilegia, iv. p. 6), and in 1768 Vosmaer
(Descr. du Trompette Americain, p. 5), showed that tbo
' Not to be confounded with the" "Heron Agami" sf Buffon
(Oiseaux, viL p. 382), which is the Ardea agami of other writers.
T R U — T R U
595
notion it conveys is erroneous. Among English writers
the name "Trumpeter" was carried on by Latham and
others so as to be generally accepted, though an author
may occasionally be found mlling to resort to the native
"Agami," which is that almost always used by the French.
' Messrs Sdater and Salvin in their Nomenclator (-p. lil) admit
6 species of Trumpet -Birds — (1) the original Pscrphia crepitans of
Guiana ; (2) P. napcnsis of eastern Ecuador (which is very likely
the original " Oiseau trompette " of De la Condamine) ; (3) P.
ochroptcra from the right bank of the Rio Negro ; (4) P. leucoptera
liom the nght bank of the upper Amazons ; (5) P. viridis from the
.right bank of the Madeira ; and (6) P. obscura from the right bank
of the lower Amazons near Para. And they have remarked in the
Zoological Proceedings (\i6' , p. 592) on the curious fact that the
range of the several species appears to be separated by rivers, a
statement confirmed by Mr Wallace {Geogr. Distr. Animals, ii. p.
358) ; and in connexion therewith it may be observed that these birds
have short wings and seldom fly, but run, though with a peculiar
gait, very quickly. A seventh species, P. cantatrix, from Bolivia, has
since been indicated by Prof. W. Blasius {Joum.f. Omith., 1884,
pp. 203-210), who has given a monographic summary of the whole
group very worthy of attention. The chief distinctions between
the species lie in colour and size, and it will be here enough to
describe briefly the best known of them, P. crepitans. This is
about the size of a large barndoor Fowl ; but its neck and legs are
lonter, so that it is s taller bird. The head and neck are clothed
with short velvety feathers ; the whole plumage is black, except
fhat on the lower front of the neck the feathers are tipped with
golden green, changing according to the light into violet, and that
a patch of dull rusty brown extends across the middle of the back
and wing-coverts, passing into ash-colour lower down, where they
liang over and conceal the tail. The legs are bnght pea-green.
The habits of this bird are very wonderful, and it is much to be
wished that fuller accounts of them had appeared. The curious
sound it utters, iloticed by the earliest observers, has been already
mentioned, and by them also was its singularly social disposition
towards man described ; but the information supplied to Bufl'on
(Oiseaux, iv. pp. 496-501-) by Manoncour and De la Borde, wliich
has been repeated in many works, is still the best we have of the
curious way in which it becomes semi-domesticated by the Indians
and colonists and shows strong aSection for its owners as well as
for their living property — poultry or sheep — though in this re-
claimed condition it seems never to breed.' Indeed nothing can
be positively asserted as to its mode of nidification ; but its eggs,
according to Mr E. Bartlett, are of a creamy white, rather round,
and about the size of Bantams'. VTaterton . in his iVariderings
(Second Journey, chap. iii. ) speaks of falling in with flocks of 200
or 300 " Waracabas, as he called them, in Demerara, but added
nothing to our knowledge of the species ; while the contributions
of Trail (McTn. Wem. Society, y. pp. 523-532) and Dr Hancock
{Afag. Nat. History, set. 1, ii. pp. 490-492) as regards its habits only
touch upon them in captivity.
To the Trumpeters must undoubtedly be accorded the
rank of a dbtinct Family, Psophiidae.; but like so many
other South-American birds they seem to be the less
specialized descendants of an ancient generalized group
-^perhaps the common ancestors of the Sallidae and
Gruidse — and they are therefore rightly placed in Prof.
Huxley's Gerariomorphse.^ The structure of the syrinx is
stated by Trail (ut supra) to be quite unique; but his
description of it is unsatisfactory, and he clearly had not
an adult male to dissect or he would have hardly failed
to notice -the cdrious arrangement of the trachea in that
sex made known by Hancock (ut supra). This, though
different from that described in any Crane (q.v.), sug-
gests an early form of the structure which in some of the
Gruidx is so marvellously developed, for in Psopkia tl^e
windpipe runs down the breast and belly immediately
under the skin to within about an inch of the anus, whence
it returns in a similar way to tho front of the sternum, and
then enters the thorax. Analogous instances of this forma-
tion occur in several other groups of birds not at all
* In connexioB herewith may be mentioned the singular story told
by Montagu {Om. Diet., Suppl. Art. "Grosbeak, White-winged"), on
the authority of the then Lord Stanley, afterwards president of the
Zoological Society, of one of these birds, which, having apparently
escaped from conGnement, formed the habit of attending a poultry-
yard. On the occasion of a pack of hounds running through the yard,
the Trumpeter joined and kept up with tbera for nearly three miles !
» Cf. Parker, Trans. Zool. .loc., x. p. 502 sq.
allied to the Psophiidae.. The skeleton and some of the
detached bones are figiured in Ey ton's Osteol. Avium (pis.
sxix. and 5 k). (a. n.)
TKUKO, a city, municipal borough, and port of Corn-
wall, England, is situated on a kind of peninsula formed
by the rivers Allen and Kenw'yn, which below the town
unite with a branch of Falmouth harbour called Truro
creek or river. Truro is 300 miles south-west of London
by the Great Western Railway, and 1 1 north of Falmouth,
to which there is a branch line. The town is regularly
built, chiefly of granite, with spacious streets, through the
principal of which there flows a^tream of water. The new
cathedral of St Mary by Mr Pearson, R.A., one of the most
important modem ecclesiastical buildings in England, is a
fine example of Early English at its best period. The old
south ai'ile of the church previously existing is ingeniously
incorporated in the new edifice. The secular buildings
include the town-hall and market-house in the Italian style
(1846), the corn exchange, the theatre, the public room^
the music-hall, and the county library (1792). There is
also a theological library, presented by Bishop Phillpotts in
1856 and largely augmented by a bequest of books in 1883.
Among the educational and benevolent institutions are the
grammar-school (founded by a member of the Borlase
family, and having two exhibitions at Exeter College,
Oxford), the cathedral divinity schools, the Wesleyan
middle schools, the literary institution, the royal Cornwall
infirmary, the dispensary, and a hospital for ten widows.
There is sufficient depth of water in the channel of Truro
creek to permit vessels of 70 tons burden to come up to
the town quay. The principal imports are coal from Wales
and timber from Norway, and the exports consist of tin,
iron ores, lead, and zinc, from the mines in the neighbour-
hood. The population of the municipal borough (area
1171 acres) in 1871 was 11,049, and 10,619 in 1881.
Trnro is one of the oldest towns in England. It is the seat of
the stannary and other courts connected with the duchy of Corn-
wall (see Cornwall, vol. vi. p. 427). It was one of the ancient
privilegod tin coinage towns. Anciently it was called Tueura,
Treura, and Truruburgh. It was a borough by prescription, bat
was incorporated by Reginald, earl of Cornwall. In the 12th cen-
tury it belonged to Richard de Lucy. In a charter of Henry VII.
it is called the "ville de Teuro." The government was vested in
a mayor and burgesses by Elizabeth, who gave the corporation juris-
diction over the port of Falmouth, the port dues of that town being
collected by them until its incorporation by Charles II. Norden,
writing of Truro in 1574, says, " there is not a towne in the west
part of the shire more commendable for neatness of buyldinges, nor
more discommendable for the priHe of the people." In 1642 Sir
Ralph Hopton levied here a large body of men for the king. By
the Municipal Act Truro was divided into two wards, and is governed
by a mayor, six aldermen, and eighteen councillors. The corpor-
ation act as the urban sanitary authority. Truro sent t*o represent-
atives to parliament from the 23d year of Edward I., but ceased
to be separately represented in 1885. By Act 39 and 40 Vict
c. 54 it was constituted the bead of a new diocese comprising the
archdeaconry of Cornwall.
TRUST. In Roman and English law alike that legal
relation between two or more persons implied in the word
trust was of comparatively late growth. The trust of
English law is probably based upon a combination of the
Roman conceptions of usns and fideicommissum. To usm
is perhaps due the name as well as the idea of that right
over property, coordinate with the right of the nominal
owner, possessed by the person having the use. To fidei-
commissum afipears to be due the name as well as the idea
of that confidence reposed in another which is the essence
of the modem trust. Usus was in Roman law a personal
servitude, or riglit of one person Ofer the land of another,
confined to his personal wants and without the right to the
produce and profits which ususfructus carried. It has
little in common with the use of English law but the name
and the conception of a dual ownership. The fideicom>-
missum is more important ; see Roman Law, voL rx. p. ,
596
TRUST
707. By the legislation of Justinian the law of legata
va3 practically assimilated to that of -fideicommissa. The
only thing that distinguished the one from the other was
the mode in which the gift was made : if by words of
direct bequest, it was a legatum^ if by precatory words, a
fideicommissum. It may be noticed, as an illustration of
the course afterwards taken by the law in England, that
fideicommissa in favour of the church were so far favoured
over others that if paid over by mistake they could not be
recovered. In addition to usus and fideicommissum^ the
Roman division of ownership into quiritary and bonitary
(to use words invented at a later time) may perhaps to
some extent have suggested the English division into
legal and equitable estate. The two kinds of ownership
were amalgamated by Justinian. Legal and equitable
estate are still distinct in England, though attempts have
been made in the direction of amalgamation. . The gradual
manner in which the beneficiary became subject to the
burdens attaching to the property of which be enjoyed the
benefit was a feature common to both the Roman and the
English system.
Wses in Early Etiglish Law. — The use or trust* is said to have
been th« invention of ecclesiastics well acquainted with Roman
law, the object being to escape the provisions of the laws against
MORTMAIS iq.v.) by obtaining the conveyance of an estate to a
friend on the understanding that they should retain the use, i.e.,
the actual profit and enjoyment of the estate. Uses were soon ex-
tended to other purposes. They were found valuable for the defeat
of creditors, the avoiding of attainder, and the charging of portions.
A use had also the advantage of being free from the incidents of
feudal tenure: it could be alienated inter vivos by secret conveyance,
and could be devised by will. In many cases the feoflee^ to uses,
as he was called, or the person seised to the use of another, seems
to have been specially chosen on aci;ount of his rank and station,
which would enable him to defy the common laV and protect the
estate of his cestui que ■Kise, or the person entitled to the beneficial
enjoyment The Act of 1 Ric. II. c. 9 was directed against the
choice of such persons. This alienation of land in Use was looked
upon with great disfavour by the common law courts, in whose
eyes the cestui que use was only a tenant at will. Possibly the
f round of their refusal to recogniie uses was that the assizes of the
ing's court could only be granted to persons who stood m a feudal
relation to the king. The denial of the right followed the denial
of the remedy. The use was on the other hand supported by the
Court of Chancery, and execution of the confidence reposed in the
feoffee to uses >vas enforced by the court in virtue of the general
jurisdiction which as a court of conscience it claimed to exercise
over breach of faith. Jurisdiction was no doubt the more readily
assumed by ecclesiastical judges in favour of a system by which the
church was generally the gainer. A-double ownership of land thus
gradually arose, the nominal and ostensible ownership,— the only
one acknowledged in the courts of common law. — and the beneficial
ownership protected by the Court of Chancery. The reign of
Henry V- to a great extent corresponds with that of Augustus at
Rome, as the point of time at which legal recognition was given to
■what had previously been binding only in honour. The means of.
britiging the feoffee to uses before the court was the writ of suhpcenn,
said to have been invented by John de Waltham, bishop of Salis-
bury and master of the rolls m the reign of liichard 11. By means
of this writ the feolTce to uses could be compelled to answer on oath
the claim of hrs cestui que use. The doctrine of the Court of
Chancery as to the execution of a use varied according as there
w'as transmutation of possession or not. In the former case it was
unnecessary to prove consideration ; in the latter, generally a case
of bargain and sale, the court would not enforce the use unless it
was executed in law, — that is, unless there was a valuable considera-
tion, even of the smallest amount. Where no consideration could
be proved or implied, the use resulted to the feoffor This theory
led to the insertion up to a recent date in deeds (especially in the
le^e of the lease and release period of conveyancing) of a nominal
consideration, generally five shillings. Lands either in possession,
reversion, or remainder could be granted in use. Most persons
could be feoffees to uses. The king and corporations aggregate
' Use seems to be an older word tlian trust. Its first occurreuce in
statute law is in 7 Ric. II. c. 12, in the form asps. lu Liitleton ** con-
fidence " is the word employed. The Statute of Uses seems to regard
use, trust, and confidence as synonymous. Acconljng to Bacon, it was*
its permanency that distinguished the use from the tnist
' Feoffment, though the usual, was not the only mode of conveyance
to uses. The preamble of the Statute of Uses mentions fines and re- ,
coveries, and other assnmnces.
were, however, exceptions, and were entitled to hold the land.i dis-
charged of the use. On the accession of Richard III., whit fron>
his position of authority had been a favourite feoffee, it was o^t-essary
to pass a special Act (1 Ric. III. c. 5). vesting the lands of which
he had been feoffet either in his co-feoffees or. m th? ahsence of co-
feoffees, in the cestui que use. The practiral convenience of uses
was so obvious that it is said that by the reign of Henry VII. most
of the land iu the kingdom was held in use. The freedom of uses
from liability to forfeiture for treason must havp led to their
general adoption dunng the Wars of the Rosea * The secrecy with
which a use could be tiansferred. contrary as it was to the publicity
required for livery of Seisin {q.v.) at common law. led to the inter-
ference of the legislature on several occasions between the reigns of
Richard II and Henry VIII., the general tendencv of the legislation
being to make thocestui queusemoreand more subject to the burdena
incident to the ownership of land. One of vhe most important
statutes was the Statute of Mortmain (15 Ric. 11- c 5), forbidding
evasion of the Statute Dc Rehgiosis of Edward I by means of ieott-
ments to uses. Other Acts enabled the cestui que use to transfer the
use without the concurrence ofthe feoffee to uses (I Ric. III. o. 1),
made a writ of formcdon maintainable against him (1 Hen. VII. c.
1), rendered his heir liable to wardship and relief (4 Hen. VII. c.
17), and his lands liable to execution (19 Hen. VII c. 15). At
length in 1535 the famous Statute of Uses (27 Hen. VJII c. 10) waa
passed.* The preamble of the statute enumerates the mischiefs which
it was cousidered that the universal prevalence of uses had occa-
sioned, among others that by fraudulent feoffments, fines, recoveries,
and other like assurances to uses, confidences, aud trusts lords lost
their feidal aids, men their tenancies by the curtesy, women then-
dower, manifest perjuries in tnals were committed, the king lost the
profits ofthe lands of persons attainted or enfeolfed to the use of aliens,
and the king and lords their rights of year, day. and waste, and of
escheats of felons' lands. To remedy this state of things it was
enacted, inter alia, that, where any person was seised of any here-
ditaments to the use, confidence, or trust of any other person by
any means, the person having such use, confidence, or trust should
be seised, deemed, and adjudged in lawful seisin, estate, and
possession of such hereditaments Full legal remedies were given
to the cestui que use by the statute, He was enabled lo distrain
for a rent charge, to have action, entry, condition, kc. The effect
of this enactment was to make the cestui que use the. owner at law
as well as in equity (as had been done once before under the ex-
ceptional circumstances which led to 1 Ric. III. c. 5), provided
that the use was one which before the statute would have been en-
forced by the Court of Chancery. For some time after the passing
of the statute an equitable as distinct from a legal estate did not
exist. But the somewhat narrow construction of the statute by
the common law courts in Tyrrel's case* (1557) enabled estates
cognizable only in equity to be again created. In that casi^ ii wa.<i
held that a use upon a use could not be executed : therefore id a
feoffment to A and his heirs to the use of B and his heirs to the
use of C and his heirs only the first use was executed by the
statute. The use of B being executed iu him, that of C was not
acknowledged by the common law judges ; but equity regarded C
as beneficially entitled, and his interest as an equitable estate held
for him in trust, corresponding to that which B would liave had
before the statute. The position taken by the Court of Chancery
in trusts may be compared with that taken in Mortoage (q.v.).
The Judicature Act, 1S73, while not going as far as the Sraiute of
Uses- and combining the legal and eqintahle estates, makes equit-
able rights cognizable in all courts From the decision in Tyrrel's
case dates the whole modern law of uses and trusts. In modern
legal language use is restricted to the crc.ition of legal e.itate under
the Statute of Uses, tnrst is confined to the equitable estate of the
cestui que trust or beneficiary.
Uses since 1335. — The Statute of Uses is still the basis of con-
veyancing. A grant in a deed is still, after the alterations iri tha
law made by the Conveyancing Act. 1681, made "to and to the
use of A." The statute does Dot,'however. apply indi'S'^nminately
to all cases, as only certain uses are executed by it. It does not
a]>ply to leaseholds or copyholds, or to case"? where the grautt-e to
uses is any liinp more than a mere passive instrument, a q., where
there is any direction to him to sell the property. Tlie seisin,
too, to bo executed by the statute, must be m another than him
wlio has the use, for where A is seised to the use of A it is a
common law grant. The difference is important as f^r as regards
the doctrine of Possession (q.v.). Constructive possession is given
by a deed operating under the statute even before entry, but nut
by a common law grant (at any rate sufficient to entitle the grantL-o
to be registered aa a voter), until actual receipt of rent by tlio
^ The use, as in later times the trust, was. hnwevei. forfeited to the
crown on attainder of the feoffee or trustee for treason.
* It was adopted in Ireland exactly a ceniury later by in C.ir. I.
c 1 (Ir.). The law of uses aud trusts in Ireland is practically the same
as that in England, the main tliffereiices being in procoriure rather than
in substantive law. * Dyei'^ Reports, 155a.
TRUST
597
rrastee. The operation of the Statute of Uses was supplemented
ty the Statute cf Inrolmenti and that of Wills. (See Will. ) The
atatuts of Inrolments (27 Hen. VIII. c 16) enacted that no
bargain and sale should pass a freehold unless by deed indented
and inrolled within six months after its date in one of the courts
at Westminster or with the custas rotuJorum of the county. As
the statute referred only to freeholds, a bargain and sale of a lease-
hold interest passed without tnrolment. Conveyancers took advan-
tage of this omission (whether intentional or not) in the Act, and
the practical effect of it was to introduce a mode of secret aliena-
tion of real property, the lease and release, which was the general
form of conveyance up to 1S45. (See Real Estate, Sale.) Thus
the publicity'of transfer, which it was the special object of the
Statute of Uses to effect, was almost at once defeated. In addition
to the grant to uses there were other modes of conveyance under
the statute which are now obsolete in practice, viz., the covenant
to stand seised and the bargain and sale. Under the statute, as
before it, the use has been found a valuable means of limiting a
remainder to the person creating the -Ase and of making an estate
take effect in derogation of a former estate by means of a shifting
or springing use. At common law a freehold could not be made
to commence in futuro ; but this end may be attained by a shifting
use, such as a grant (common in marriage settlements) to A to the
use of B in fee simple until a marriage, and after the celebration of
the marriage to other uses. An example of a springing use would
be a grant to A to such uses as B should appoint and in default
of and until appointment to C in fee simple. The difficulty of
deciding where the seisin was during the suspension of the use led
to the invention of the old theory of sdntUia juris^ or continued
possibility of seisin in the grantee to uses. This theory was
abolished by 23 and 24 Vict, c 38, which enacted that all uses
should take effect by focce of the estate and seisin originally vested
in the person seised to the uses. The most frequent instances of
a springing use are powers of appointment, usual iu wills and
settlements. There has been much legislation on the subject of
powers, the main effect of which has been to give greater facilities
for their execution, release, or abandonment, to aid their defective
execution, and to abolish the old doctrine of iUosory appointments.
Trusts. — A tmst in English law is defined by Mr Lewin, adopt-
ing Coke's definition of a use, as "a confidence reposed in some
other, not issuing out of the land, but as a thing collateral, annexed
in privity to the estate of the land, and to the person touching the
land. Tor which cestui que trust has no remedy but by sui^xxna in
Chancery." The term trust or trust estate is also used to denote the
benencial interest of the cestui que trust. The term truster is not
used, as it is in Scotland, to denote the creator of the trust. A
tmst has some features in common with Contract {q.v.) ; bat the
great difference between them is that a contract can only be enforced
by a party or one in the position of a party to it, while a trust can
be, and generally is, enforced by one not a party to its creation.
It has more resemblance to fideiarmmissum. But the latter could
only be created by a testamentary instrument, while a tmst can
be created either by will or inUr vivcs ; nor was there any trace in
Roman law of that permanent legal relation which is suggested by
the position of trustee and cestui que trust. The heir, too, in
Roman law was entitled, from 70 A.D. to the reign of Justinian,
to one-fourth of a heredilo-s Jideicommissaria as against the bene-
ficiary, while the very essence of the trust is its gratuitous charac-
ter. Tmsts may be divided in more than one way, according to
the ground taken as the basis of division. One division, and p«r-
hans the oldest, as it rests on the authority of Bacon, is into simple
and special, the first being where the trust is simply vested in a
trustee and the nature of the trust left to construction of law, the
second where there is an act to be performed by the trustee.
Another division is into latcful and unlaic/uly and corresponds to
Bacon's division into intents or confidences and frauds, covins, or
collusions. A third division is into public ^nd private, the former
being synonymous with charitable tmsts. A division often adopted
in modem text-books and recognized by parliament in the Trustee
Act, 1850, is into express, implied, and cOTistructive. An express
tmst is derennined by the person creating it. It may be -either
executed or executory, the former where the limitations of the equit-
able interest are complete and final, the latter where such limita-
tions are intended to serve merely as minutes for perfecting the
settlement at some future period, as in the case of marriage articles
drawn up as a basis of a marriage settlement to be in conformity
■with them. An implied trust is founded upon the intention of the
person creating it ; examples of it are a resulting trust, a precatory
trust, and the trust held by the vendor on behalf of the purchaser
of an estate after contract and before conveyance. In this case
the vendor is sometimes called a trustee sub modo and the purchaser
a cestui que tmst sub viodo. A constructive tmst is judicially
created from a consideration of a person's conduct in order to satisfy
the demands of justice, without reference to intention. The dis-
tinction between an implied and a constructive tmst is not always
very consistently maintained. Thus the position of a vendor
towards a purchaser after contract is sometimes called a constrac-
tive tmst. Thff present law governing trusts rests upon the doc-
trines of equity as altered by legislation. Its great importance has
led to its becoming one of the most highly developed departments
of equity. The devolution of successive interests in wills and
settlements is- almost wholly attained by means of trusts.
iilio may be a Trustee or Cestui que Trust — The modem tmst is
considerably more extensive in its operation than the ancient use.
Thus the crown and corporations aggregate can be trustees, and
personalty can be held in trust. Provision is made by the Muni-
cipal Corporations Act, 1SS2, for the administration of charitable
and special tmsts by municipal corporations. The crown does not
appear to be a trustee to as complete a degree as a subject may be.
Unsuccessful attempts have recently been made to impress tha
crown, or a secretary of state as agent of the crown, with trusts of
funds voted by parliament for the public service, of booty of war
granted by royal warrant, and of money paid over by a foreign
state in pursuance of a treaty. There are certain persons who for
obvious reasons, even if not legally disqualified, ought not to be
appointed trustees. Such are infants, lunatics, persons domiciled
abroad, felons, bankrupts, and ccstuis qtu trusteni The appointment
of any such person, or the falling of any existing trustee into such
a position, is generally ground for application to the cocSt for ap-
pointment of a new trustee in his place. Any one may be a cesttd
que trust except a corporation aggregate, which cannot be a cestui
que trust of r^ estate without a licence from the crown.
Creation and Extinction of the Trust. — A trust may be created
either by act of a party or by operation of law. AVhere a trust is
created t^ act of a party, the creation at common law need not be
in writing. The Statute of Frauds (see Fraud) altered the common
law by enacting that all declarations or creations of trusts or con-
fidences of any lands, tenements, or hereditaments shall be mani-
fested and proved by some writing, signed by the party who is by
law enabled to declare such trust, or by his last will in writing, or
else they shall be utterly void and of none effect. Tmsts arising
or resulting by implication or construction of law are excepted, ana
it has been held that the statute applies only to real estate and
chattels real, so that a trust of personal chattels may still be declared
by parol. The declaration of a trust by the crown must be by
letters patent. Tmsts created by will must conform to the require-
ments of the Wills Act (see Will). Except in the case of charitable
trusts, the cestui que tmst must be a definite person. A trust, for
instance, merely for keeping up family tombs is void. Alteration
of the tmst estate by appointment of a new tmstee could up to
I860 only be made where the instrument creating the trust gave a
power to so appoint, or by order of the Court of Chancery. But
now by the Conveyancing Act, 18S1 (superseding Lord St Leonards'a
Act of 1860), the surviving or continuing tmstee or trustees, or the
personal representative of the last surviving or continuing trustee,
may nominate in writing a new tmstee or new tmstees. On such
appointment the number of trustees may be increased. Existing
trustees may by deed consent to the discharge of a trustee wishing
to retire. Trust property may be vested in new or continuing
trustees by a simple declaration to that effect. By the (>3nveyancing
Act, 1882, a separate set of tmstees may be appointed for any p»Ji-
of the property held on distinct trusts. Trusts created by opetA-
tion of law are either those which are the effect of the application
of rules of equity or those which have been constituted by a judicial
authority. They include resulting and constructive trusts. A
resulting tmst is a species of implied tmst, and consists of so much
of the equitable interest as is undisposed of by the instrument
creatng the trust, which is said to result to the creator and his
representatives. An example is the purchase of an estate in the
name of the purchaser and jDthers, or of others only. Here thi»
beneficial interest is the purchaser's. An example of a constractiTe
trust is a renewal of a lease by a tmstee in his own name, whepe
the trustee is held to be constructively a trustee for those interested
in the beneficial term. An instance of a cpnstructive trust upon
which the courts have often been called upon to decide is thft
fiduciary relarion between the promoter of a proposed joint-stod;
company and the members of the company when formed. The
other trusts falling under the head of trusts by operation of la-*
would be those imposed upon a' tmstee by order of a court, even
though they are imposed in pursuance of provisions contained in
a trust created by a party. Such would be the tmsts which havs
come within the cognizance of the court by virtue of the TTwstee
Act, 1850, or in any other way. The powers of the comi over
tmsts have been much extended by legislation. The Act of 1850
(13 and 14 Vict c. 60) enabled the Court of Chancery to appoint
new tmstees where expedient, and to make vesting orders in many
cases where such orders could not previously have been made, aa
where a trustee was a luuaric, or an infant, or refused to convey.
This Act was extended by the Tmstee Extension Act, 1852 (T5 and
16 Vict a 55). By the Conveyancing Act, 18S1, a trustee ap-
pointed by the Chancery Division is to have the same powers as
if he had been originally appointed a tmstee by the instrument
creating the trust The Bankmptcy Act, 1SS3, enables the court
tA appoint a new trustee in the place of a bankrupt trustee. B^
598
TRUST
ddes Twintf duly created, it is necessity for ttc valiUity of the trust
Sat it should be a lawful one. An unlawtul trust i| OTie which
contravenes the poUcy of the law in any respect. Examples of
euch trusts are trusts for a corporation without bcence, for a per-
cetuit*-, and for purposes subversiye of morality, such as trusts lor
[lle-^timate children to be hereafter born. Superstitious uses (see
EoSas Catholic Church, voL xx. v- 632) also (all under this
head. There are also certain trusts which are avoided by statute
under particular circumstances, such as settlements in fraud ot
credito^ (see B.4.»reEtn>TCT, Settlemest). The law cannot be
evaded by attempting to constitute a secret ftust for an unlawful
purpose. If an «t:ite be devised by words P^rmfa^ carrying
the beneficial interest, with an understanding that the devisee will
hold the estate in trust for such a purpose, he may be compelled
to ansWer as to the secret trust, and on acknowledgment or proof
of it there will be a resulting trust to the heir-at-law In the c^
of an advowson suspected to be held for the benefit of a Roman
Catholic patron, there is a special enachnent to the same effect
(see QUARE Impedit). The rules of equity m chantable trasts
(which include all those mentioned in the preamble to « tliz- c.
4)' are less strict than those adopted in private trusts- Charitable
trusts must be lawful, e.g., they must not contravene the Statutes
of Mortmain; but a wider latitude of construction i^ allowed m
order to carry out the intentions of the founder, and they will not
be allowed to fail for want or uncertainty of objects to be benefited
The court, applying the doctrine oi cy pris, will, on failure of the
original ground l! the charity, apply the funds as nearly as possible
in the same manner. On this principle gifts originally made for
purely charitable purposes have been extended to educational pur.
^ses. Further, tVustees of a charity may act by a majontj, but
Srdinarv trustees cannot by the act of a majonty (an'ess specially
empowered so to do>ind a dissenHng minority or the trust pro-
perty. A trust estate is subject as far as possible to the rules of
faw applicable to a legal estate of a corresponding nature in pur-
suance of the maxim. ' ' Equity foUows the law." Thus trust pro-
perty is assets for payment of debts, may be toten in execution
passes to creditor in bankruptcy, and is subject to dower and
rartejiy, to the rules against perpetuities, and to t^e Statutes of
Limitation. This assimilation of the legal and equitable estates
has been produced partly by judicial decisions, partly by legisla-
tion. A trust is extinguished, as it is created, either by act of a
party or by operation of law. An example of the former mode of
extinction is a release by deed, the general means of discharge of a
trustee when the purposes of the trust have been accomplished.
Exrinction by operation of law Ukes place when there is a failure
of the objects of the trust : e.g., if the cestui que trust die intestete
without heirs or next of kin, the trustee retains the property dis-
charged of the trust if it he real estate, if it be personalty it falls
to the c^o^vn. Equitable interests in real esUte abroad are as a
rule subiect to the la loci rei sits, and an English court has no
jurisdiction to enforce a trust or settle a scheme for the administra-
tion of a charity in a foreign countr>-. An English court has,
however, jurisdiction to administer the trusts of a will as to the
whole real and personal estate of a testator, even though only a very
small part of the estate, and that wholly personal, is in England.
This was decided by the House of Lords in a well-known case in
1883.'
Rights and Duties of the Trustee.— The principal general properties
of the office of trustee, as given by Mr Lewin are these :— (1) A
trustee having once accepted the trust cannot afterwards renounce.
(2) He cannot delegate it. (3) In the case of co-trustees the olhcff
must be exercised by all the trustees jointly. (4) On the death of
one trustee there is survivorship : that is, the trust will pass to the
survivors or survivor. (5) One trustee shall not be liable for the
acts of his CO -trustee. (6) A trustee shall denve no personal
benefit from the trusteeship. The office cannot be renounced or
dele<^ted, because it is one of personal confidence. It can, however,
be resigned, and recent legislation, as has been already stated, has
given a retiring trustee large powers of appointing a successor. In
the case of the death of a single or last surviving trustee of real estate,
the trust estate by the Conveyancing Act, 1881, now devolves upon
his personal representative instead of upon his heir or devisee. The
liability of one trustee for the acta or defaults of another often raises
very difficult questions. A difference is made between trustees
and executors. An executor is liable for joining in a receipt pro
forma, as it'is not necessary for him to do so, one executor having
authority to act without his co-executor ; a trustee can show that
he only joined for conformity, and that another received the
money. A trustee's receipt in writing is, under the Conveyancing
Act, 1881 (superseding Lord St Leonards's Act of 1860), a sufficient
discharge, and exonerates the person paying from seeing that the
money paid is duly applied according to the trast. If one trustee
be cognizant of a breach of trust committed by another, aud conceal
it or do not take active measures to protect the cestui que tnists
interests, he will be liable for the breach of trust An indemnity
' See Cn*niTiES. where the preamble of the statute is set out m fuU.
* GwiDg V. Orr-Ewice. Law Reports, 9 Appeal Cases, 34.
clause is now implied by statute in every trust deed, bnt this does
not protect a tnlstee against liabUity which would attach at law
A tnistee, if he commit a breach of trust at the request of his cestui
que trust, may secure himself by an indemnity, provided that the
Si que tmst has been fully informed of the facte of the case and
Tnot Snder any disability to consent, such as infancy The rule
That a trustee is' not to benefit by his office is subject to some ex-
ceptions. He may do so if the instrument creating him trustee
TpSy allows him remuneration, as is usual y the case «here a
solicitor is appointed. ^Vhere the trust entirely fails, as has been
sdld above, the trustee is indirectly remunerated by his nght to
Stain the trust estete. The main duties of trustees ^e to place
the trust property in a proper state of secunty to k«p it (if per-
sonalty) in saS custody, and to properly invest and distribute it.
A trurt e must be careful not to place himself m a position where
his interest might clash with his duty. As a rule he cannot safely
purchase from his cestui que trust while the fiduciary relation exists
between them In aU purchases with trust money he is bound to
obt^n the b?st price, unless where an Act of Parliament, like the
HouJin- of theVoTking Classes Act, 1885, specaUy authorizes
sale at°an undervalue. ^Investments by trustees demand special
notice The general rule is that a trustee must take as much care
of the trust property as of his own. He is, therefore justified in
?ollowin^ the- usual course of business adopted by prudent men m
mSg investments, e.g., by employing a stock-broker _.n the
OTdinafy way. At the sime time he has not an uncontrolled power
rf inv^tment, for (unless authorized by the ^""riw oHnvesf
the trust) he cannot lend trust money on personal secunty or invest
n shares of a private company. A trustee of sharss may be liable
Ls a beneficia*! owner, even though his name ,aP.P?^;-? "^ ^»
re.'istcr of the company is a trustee. By recent legislation trust-
eel where not exprVssly forbidden by the instrument creating the
tmst have either an absolute or qualified right to invest in certain
securities. They have an absolute right to invest in real.securit,«
n the United Kingdom (but not on a second mortgage) in charges
or mortgages under the Improvement of Land Act, 1864, in con-
sols excli^uer bills, or any security the interest whereon is guar-
anteed by pariiament, in Bank of England, Bank of Ireland, East
India; a^ Metropolitan Board of Works steck. .They have a
qua Med power of investment (that Ss, an extension of po were
abeady gi^en in the instrument) in debentiires or debenture stock
of railwfy and other companies, and of corporations and local
authorities under the Local Loans Act, 1875, m mortgage deben-
?ues under the Mortgage Debenture Acts of 1865 and 1870 and in
securities of the Isle of Man Government. Trustees under the
Retried Land Act, 1S82, have somewhat larger powers as to railn ay-
stock In many cases there are restrictions on investment in stock
cScates payable to bearer, although in authorized securities
Tpower of varying investments is generaUy implied, though not
fxSy given by stetiite, as in Scotland. The duties of trustees
in'^^he distribution of trust funds have been ,i"a<ie less onerous by
the Trustee Relief Acts of 1847 and 1 849, which enabled trustees or a
maioriu of them to pay into the Bank of England to the account
rfth" particular trust any moneys belonging to the trus , thus
bringing the property within the jurisdiction of the court, from
^^^■^ can Llf be obtained on petition Similar powers were
conferred upon trustees of chanties by 18 and 19^ 'Ct- c 124.
By rno^ rec^ent Acte (22 and 23 Vict. c. 35, 23 and 24 \ ic . c. 38)
application for advice may be made by a t™stee to a udge of the
Chancery Division on a petition or summons The liability ol a
tmstee to his cestiii que tnist on any claim for property held on
a^exprc^ trust or inlespect of breach of such trust is not barred
bv any statute of limitations, 36 and 37 Vict, c 66, s. 26 (2)^
The powers of trustees have lately been considerably extended by
the Conveyancing Act, 1881, and the Settied Land Act, 1882, m
other mluei^l^ides those that have been already noticed. One
of the most important of the new powers -tbato compounding
romnromisin" or abandoning claims relating to the trust, ror
?hnrS"tee1iTbankniptcy, see Bankruptct. The trustee to pre-
erve^on in "ent remainders, at one time common in conveyancing
hi ceased tS be necessary (see R™a,sder..Term)^ A bare trustee
is one to whose office no duties were originally atUched, or who
thou4surh duties were attached, would on the requisition of the
festulque trust be compellable to convey the -tate to hmi or by
his direction. The tenn is used ,n some Ac^ of Pariiament, lor
inotiiTirp the Vendor and Purchaser Act, 10(4.
has a general right to the due "^"^g^T "' "^ *^' '"Ho^ca^^ i
to nroMr accounts, and to enjoyment of the prohts Ho can as a
rule oX IcrwUh the concurrence of the trustee, unless he seeks a
rule only aci y-"^ ,_„tpe himself Thus the trustee must be a
nlrt^ loTLion bo^gh'in ^s^lct of the tmst estete, and must
P-i^>.._'°;.!!r„y "petition in'l^ankniptey on account of a debt
■ 3 The ph-^se -l-are tmsf occur, a, long .go « 16S6, Ne>-U v. Sauader,.
1 Veman's Rep., 415.
T R U S T
59?
due to the esute, bat the cestui que trust on giving indemnity
can reqciiB the trustee to lend his name as a party. He may also
require the tnistee to execute conveyances of the legal estate
According to his directions. Trust property, if parted with by the
trustee in fraud of the trcst may be followed by the cestui que trust,
even into the hands of a purchaser for value with notice of the
trust. The cestui que trust may lose his rights by fraud, by laches,
and by concurrence or acquiescence in a breach of trust. Though
no lapse of time bars his remedy against the trustee personally,
he cajicot, by the terms of the Real Property Limitation Act,
1874. recover land or rent vested in a trustee upon an express trust
after twelve years from the time when the right accrued or sis
years after the cesser of any disability. The equitable right of the
cestui que trust has sometimes been recognized by statute in cases
where it would be manifestly unjust that he should suffer dis-
ability by virtue of his having merely an equitable interest. The
cestui qo^trust has the right of voting for members of parliament,
and is qualified to serve as a juror. On bantruptcy of tho trustee
the trust estate is not affected. Nor was it affected even before
the Felony Act, 1870, by the conviction and attainder of the
trustee for felony. Attainder of the trustee for treason involved,
however, forfeiture of a trust estate of inheritance. (See Trea-
son.) The recognition of the cestui que trust as owner is still
not complete. Thus no notice of a trust is recognized in certain
public documents, as the books of the Bank of England and the
registers kept under the Merchant Shipping Act, 1854, the Com-
panies Act, 1862, the Land Transfer Act, 1875, and the Colonial
Stock Act, 1877.
Procedure. — This is regulated almost entirely by legislation.
Proceedings relating to a trust may be brought in different courts
of first instance, — (1) the Chancery Division of the High Court of
Justice or the Chancery Court of the County Palatine of Lancaster,
(21 a court of bankruptcy, (3) a county court, (4) a criminal
court. (1) By the Judicature Act, 1873, § 34, the execution of
trusts, charitable or private, is assigned to the Chancery Division.
The rules of the Supreme Ourt, 1883, provide for special indorse-
ment in an action on a trust, for the parties to the action, for
interrogatories and pleading, and for proceeding by originating
summons. (See Summons.) Forms of pleading are given in the
appendix to the rules. An injunction rather than an action may
sometimes be the proper remedy, as in the case of threatened breach
of trust. The Trustee Relief Acts, the Trustee Act, and Lord St
Leonards's Act of 1839 provide for proceeding by petitfon or sum-
mons. Applications under the Conveyancing Act must be in
chambers in the first instance, and so must applications under the
Trustee Relief Acts where the money or securitios in coitrt do not
exceed £1000 or £1000 nominal value. The procedure in charit-
able trusts differs to some extent from that in use in private trusts.
The most usual course of proceeding is by information in the name
of the attorney-generaL Another mode is by petition under Sir
6amuel Eomilly's Act, 52 Geo. III. c. 101, superseding the
cumbrous procedure by commission which had been previously in
use tinder 43 Eliz. c. 4. A third mode is under the powers of the
Charitable Trusts Acts, the first of which was passed in 1 853. No
proceeding tmder these Acts can be taken without the authority of
the charity commissioners. (2) The equitable debt due from the
trustee to the cestui que trust will support a petition in bankruptcy,
and i^a debt provable in bankruptcy. An order of discharge in
bankraptcy does not release the bankrupt from any debt or liability
incurred by means of fraudulent breach of trust, nor does it release
a co-trustee of the bankrupt. (3) The County Courts Equitable
Jurisdiction Act, 1865, confers on county courts the authority of
the High Court in the execution of trusts and proceedings under
the Trustee Acts where the trust estate does not exceed £500 in
amount or value. By the County Courts Act, 1867, applications
may be made at chambers for transfer to a county court of an
action pending in the High Court where the property does not
exceed £500 in amount or value. The same Act allows trust funds
not exceeding that limit to be paid into the post office savings
bank in a county court town in the name of the registrar. A
county court has jurisdiction in charitable trusts where the income
of a charity does not exceed £50. The cotmty court rules, 1886,
contain orders regulating the practice with respect to both private
an4 c^iaritable trusts. Powers similar to those given to county
court.5 Hn England have been conferred upon the civil bill courts in
Ireland. (4) At coAnon law trustees committing a fraudulent
breach of trust could not be punished criminally. This was
altered by the Fraudulent Trustees Act of 1857, now superseded
by the Larceny Act, 1861, under which a trustee on an express
trust, whether public or private, created by deed, will, or instru-
ment in writing, who with intent to defraud converts to his own
use or benefit or the use or benefit of any other person than the
cestui que trust, or for any purpose other than the public or charit-
able purpose, or otherwise disposes of or destroys such property or
any part thereof, is guilty of misdemeanour and punishable with
penal servitude for a term not exceeding seven years. No prosecu-
tion is to be commenced without the sanction of the attorney-
general or — where civil proceedings have been already taken against
the trustee — without the sanction of the civU court The offence
cannot be prosecuted at quarter sessions.*
Scotland. —The history of the law differs considerably from that,
of England, though perhaps the position of the Scotch trustee i»
now nut very different from that of the trustee in England. TLe
Statute of Uses did not apply to Scotland, since neither that nor
any similar legislation was necessary in a system in which law and-
equity were aoministered by the same tribunals. Trusts seem to.
have existed from time immemorial, and have been frequently-
regulated by statute. The policy of the English Statute of Frauds
was no doubt intentionally imitated in the Act 1696, c. 25, enacting
that no action of declarator of trust should be sustained as to any
deed of trust made for thereafter, except upon a declaration or back-
bond of tnist lawfully subscribed by the person alleged to be trustee
and against whom or his heirs or assignees the declarator should
be intended, or unless the same were referred to the oath of tho:
party simpliciUr. The Act does not apply to all cases, but only tc
those in which by the act of parties documents of title are in the
name of a trustee, but the beneficial interest in another. The
person creating the trust is called the truster, a term unknown in.
England. On the other hand the term cestui que trust is unknown
in Scotland. The ofiice of trustee is prima facie gratuitous, as la
England, it being considered to fall under the contract of mandate.
Some of the main differences between English and Scotch law are
these. There is no presumption in Scotland of a resulting trust in.
favour of a purchaser. A trust which lapses by the failure of a.
beneficiary goes to £he crown as ultimus heres, not to the trustee.
The office of trustee is not a joint office, therefore there is no right
of survivorship, and on the death of a trustee the survivors are in-
competent to act unless a certain number be declared or presumed
to be a quorum, or the office be conferred on trustees and the
accedors and survivors of them. Sometimes the concurrence of one
trustee is rendered absolutely necessary by his being named sine
quo nan. The Court of Session may appoint new trustees, but
generally appoints a judicial factor. There has been a considerable
amount of recent legislation, chiefly in the direction of extending
the powers of trustees and of the court, in trust matters. By 24
and 25 Vict c 84 (amended by 26 and 27 Vict c. 115) aa
appointment of grattiitotis trustees by deed or local act was to be-
held to include certain provisions usually included in deeds of
appointment, i.e., powers of resignation and of assumption of new-
trustees, and provisions that the majority of trustees accepting and
surviving should be a quorum, and that each trustee should only be
liable for his own acts and intromissions and should not be liable for
omissions. The Trusts Act 1867 (30 and 31 Vict c. 97), added
to the common law powere of trustees by giving them authority to
appoint factors and law agents, to discharge trustees who have
resigned, to grant leases for a limited period, to uplift, discharge,
or assign debts, to compromise claims, to grant all necessary deeds,
and to pay debts due by the truster or the trust estate. It also-
gave the Court of Session power (exercisable by the lord ordinary
in the firet instance) beyond what it possessed by its nobile officitnn^
in cases of expediency, of selling the trust estate, of granting feus
or long leases, and of borrowing and excambion. Power was given
to trustees to appoint additional trustees by deed of assumption^
and where such assumption could not be made the court might
appoint. Authority was conferred upon the beneficiary of a lapsed
trust to complete title on petition. The powers of investment
given to trustees have since been largely increased by the Trust*
Amendment Act, 1334. They are now much the same as those
allowed in England. The principal differences are that in Scotland
there is a statutory power to vary securities, and that statutory-
investment by a Scotch trustee is not allowed in Bank of Ireland
stock or on real security in Ireland. The Titles to Land Consolida-
tion Act 1868 (31 and 32 Vict c. 101), contained provisions as.
to the mode of corapleting title by a judicial factor on a trust
estate and by trustees in sequestration and as to the vesting \a
trustees -^f heritable property conveyed for religious or educational
purposes. The Conveyancing Act, 1874 (37 and 38 Vict c. 94),
dealt with compositions payable by trustees on the death of &
vassal, and with completion of title by tke heir of a sole or last sur-
viving trustee, by a successor of an ex o^icio trustee, and by trustees
where words of conveyance are not expressed to be in favour of such
trustees. Forms of documents relating to trust property will ba
found in Juridical Styles and in the schedules to the Acts of 1867^
1868, and 1874. A conveyance in trust may be either absolute
with a back-bond or in form a conveyance in trust A trustee is
responsible for the due execution of the trust subject to the
limitarions contained in 24 and 25 Vict c. 84. The provision of
the Companies Act, 1862, that no trust is to be entered on the
I The principal authority ia Lewiu's Law of TrtLsts (Sth ed.. 1S&5X The-
po-wers of trustees under the Conve>'ancing and Settled Land Acta will be found
summarized in the treatises on these acts by Wolstenholme and Tlimer. The
principal authorities on charitable trusts are Shelford and Tudor (ISti-;;). For
the history may be consolt«l Bacon, Lc.vr Tmcts ; Reading, On Oie Statute of
Uses ; Gilbert, On Uses ; Sanders, On Uses awf TrusU ; Spence. Equitable Jurtg.
dictum, vol. L p. 435 ; Digby, Bist. cifthe law (if Seal Property, chaps, n. Tii
eoo
r s A — T s c
register, does not apply to Scotland. A trustee, a member of a
joint-stock company, though entered on the register as a trust
disponee, may incur personal liability as a partner, unless the con-
trary be expressed. Liability under such circumstances was
established in the litigation which followed the suspension of the
City of Glasgow Bank in 1378.' A sheriff court has jurisdiction
over actions of declarator, relating to questions of heritable
right or title, where the value of the subject in dispute does not
exceed £50 by the year or £1000 in value (40 and 41 Vict. c. 50).
A judicial factor may be appointed by the sheriff court where the
yearly value of the estate does not exceed £100 (43 and 44 Vict,
c. 4). Fraudulent trustees are criminally liable at common law,
not by statutory enactment, as in England. Adjudication on a
trust bond is a mode of obtaining the decision of the Court of
Session on a bond by a fictitious creditor, for the purpose of giving
title to the heir, by preventing his liability to possible passive
representation. It is regulated by 1695, c. 24.^
United States. — In New York and some other States uses and
trusts have been abolished (with certain exceptions), and every
estate, subject to those exceptions, is deemed a legal riglit cogniz-
able in courts of law. The exceptions are in New York implied
trusts and express trusts to sell land for the benetit of creditors, to
sell, mortgage, or lease lands for the benefit of legatees, or for the
purpose of satisfying any charge thereon, to receive the rents and
profits of lands and apply them to the use of any person during
the life of such person or any shorter term, or to receive such
rents and profits, and accumulate the same within the limits
alIoT«t^d by the law. Trusts of personalty for public purposes are
very generally allowed in States where private tnists do not exist.
- Provisions similar to those of the English Statute of Frauds have
been generally adopted by the States which recognize private trusts.
Some States go further than the statute and allow the creation of
trusts (other than those arising by implication or operation of law)
only by means of will or deed. Where the trust is of real estate,
the deed must generally be registered (see Registkation). Forms
of deeds of trust are given in the Statutes of Virginia and other
States. The English doctrine of qj prts seems to have been adopted
only in Pennsylvania. Conveyances in trust for the settlor are
generally void against creditors by the policy of the Acts of Eliza-
beth. By the legislation of some States a freehold may commence
in futuTO without the operation of the Statute of Uses. Societies
of professional trustees, receiving a percentage of the income of the
property as payment for tlieir trouble and liability, are frequently
recognized by law. Such societies are generally under an obliga-
tion to make periodical returns of their receipts and expenditure.
A^ublic trustee as a corporation sole exists in some Sta ics. Trustee
process in the New England States is what is generally known as
garnishee process in England, that is, a means of reaching pro-
perty and credits of a debtor in the hands of third persons for the
benefit of an attaching creditor.' (J. Wt.)
TSARITSYN, a district town of the government of
SaratoflF, Russia, situated on the right bank of the lower
Volga where it suddenly turns towards the south-east, only
40 miles distant from the Don. It is the terminus of
a railway line which begins at Riga and, running south-
eastwards, crosses all the main lines which radiate from
Moscow to the south. It is- also connected by rail with
Katatch on the Don, where merchandise from the Sea of
Azo£F is disembarked and transported by rail to Tsaritsyn,
to be sent thence by rail or steamer to different parts of
Russia. Corn from Middle Russia for Astrakhan is trans-
ferred from the railway to boats at Tsaritsyn ; timber and
wooden wares from the upper Volga are unloaded here
and sent by rail to Katatch.; and fish, salt, and fruits sent
from Astrakhan by boat up the Volga are here unloaded
and despatched by rail to the interior of Russia. The
town has grown rapidly since the completion of the rail-
way system, and has a large trade in naphtha from Baku,
which is shipped up the Volga to Tsaritsyn and sent thence
by rail to the interior of Russia. The railway between
the Baskunchak salt lakes of Astrakhan and the Volga
has made Tsaritsyn also a depot for the salt trade. In
1882 10,000,000 cwts. of merchandise, valued at one mil-
lion sterling, were landed at Tsaritsyn, and since then the
' The principal case was Moir v. City of Glasgow Bank, Law Re-
purls, 4 Appeal Cases, 337.
' See G. J. Bell, Principles, §§ 1991-2001 ; R. Bell, Law Did., s.v.
"Trust" and "Tnistee."
' See Washburn, Real Properly, vol. ji., bk. ii., chaps, ii., iii. ;
StiujsoD. Amtrican Statute Law, §§ 1700-1?? <
figures have notably increased. In addition Tsaritsyn
is the centre of the trade connected with the mustard
plantations of Sarepta, Dubovka, and the neighbourhood •-
170,000 cwts. of mustard seed are either ground or con-
verted into oi! annually, the exports being 70,000 cwts.
of mustard and half the corresponding quantity of oil
(valued at £250,000). The fisheries of the place are also
important. The population (6750 in 1861) numbered
31,220 in 1882. It is still larger in summer, Tsaritsyn
having become the gathering-place of poor people in
search of work, and the misery and filth in its poorer
quarters are very great. The buildings of the town do
not improve proportionately with the increase of wealth.
They include a (wooden) theatre, a public library, and
two gymnasia for boys and girls. The old church of St
John (end of 1 6th century) is a fine specimen of the archi-
tecture of its period.
Tsaritsyn was founded in the 16th century, when a fort was
erected to prevent the incursions of the free Cossacks and runaway
serfs who gathered on the lower Volga, as also those of the Kalmucks
and Circassians-. In 1606 Tsaritsyn took part in thej-ising in
favour of the false Demetrius, and Razin took the town in 1G70.
The Kalmucks and Circassians of the Kuban attacked it repeatedly
in the 17th century, so that it had to be fortified by a strong earthen
and palisaded wall, traces of which are still visible.
TSABSKOYE SELO, a district town of Russia, in the
government of St Petersburg, and an imperial residence, 18
miles to the south of the capital, is situated on the Duderhot
HiUs and consists of the town proper, surrounded by several
villages and a German colony, which are summer resorts for
the inhabitants of St Petersburg, and the imperial parks
and palaces. The town is built according to a regular pi; n,
and its houses, a great number of which have been erected
by the crown, are nearly all surrounded by gardens. The
cathedral of St Sophia is a miniature copy of that at
Constantinople. The town has two gymnasia for boys and
girls. The imperial parks and gardens cover 1680 acres;
the chief of them is the "old "garden containing the "old
palace," built by Rastrelli, the gallery of Cameron adorned
with fine statues, and numerous pavilions and kiosks. The
population numbered 15,000 in 1885.
When Peter I. took possession of the mouth of the Neva a Finnish
village, Saari-mois, stood on the site now occupied bylhe town,
and its Russified name Sarskaya was changed intoTsarskoye when
Peter I. presented it to his wife Catherine. It was especially em-
bellished by Elizabeth. Under Catherine II., a town, Sophia, was
built close by, but its inhabitants v.'ere transferred toTsarskoye Selo
under Alexander I. The railway connecting the town with St
Petersburg (1S3S) was the first to be constructed in Russia.
TSCHUDI, or Schody, the name of one of the oldest
and most distinguished families of the land of Glarus,
Switzerland. From 1029 to 1253 a member of the clan
held the office of steward of the abbess of Siickingen on
the Rhine, the lady of the manor; and after Glarus joined
the Swiss Confederation in 1352 various members of the
family held high political offices at home, and were dis-
tinguished abroad as soldiers and in other ways. In litera-
ture, its most eminent member was Giles or jEgidius
TscHUDi (1505-1572), who, after having served his native
land in various offices, in 1558 became the chief magistrate
or " land mann." Originally inclined to moderation, he
became later in life more and more devoted to the cause
of the counter-Reformation. It is, however: as the his-
torian of the Swiss Confederation that he is best known ;
by incessant wanderings and unwearied researches amongst
original documents he collected material for three great
works, which therefore caj never wholly lose their value,
though his researches have" been largely supplemented and
corrected by those of more lecent students. In 1 538 his
book on Rhstia, written in 1528, was published in Latin
and in German — Ve prisca ac vera Alpina Rhectia, or DU
uralt wahrkajf'ig Alpisch lihatia.
His other worKs were not published until long after his detith.
T S E — T U A
601
The Seschrcibung Galliee Comalm appeared under Gallati's editorship
ill 1758, and is mainly devoted to a topographical, historical, ana
sctiquaran description of ancient Helvetia and Rhstia, the latter
p^iit being his early work on Rhxtia revised and greatly enlarged
This book was designed practically as an introduction to his rtuxtj-
niim opus, the Chronuon Helveticum, part of which (frora 1100 to
1470) was published by J. R. Iselin in two stately folios (173-1-36) ;
the rest (to 1564) consists only of rough materials. The >-alue of
the work rests very largely on the constant use of original docu-
ments, no fewer than 750 being printed in Iselin's edition, though
the transcripts do not always in point of accuracy come up to the
standard demanded by the modern critical historian Many ballads
are incorporated and also many oral traditions, both being employed
to give life and picturcsqueness to his story, though often at the
expense of historical truth, the stock instance of which is the manner
111 which he completed and elaborated the Tell legend {see Tell)
[q many ways his book, save in its flowing and quaint German,
IS rather like the work of a 14th-centiwy chronicler than a critical
historv ; but it has been the source from which all later Swiss writers
have drawn their information, and in many cases preserves the evi-
dence of original documents which have since disappeared It is io
short a history rather resembling that of Livy than that of Hallani
or Stubbs.
Subjoined is a list of other prominent members of the family.
Dominic (15961654) was a Benedictine monk at Muri and wrote
a painstaking work, Origo cl genealogia gloriosissimorunt coymlum
de Habsburg (1651). Joseph, a Benedictine monk at Einsiedeln,
wrote a useful history of his abbey (1823). The family, which be-
came divided in religious matters at the Reformation, also includes
several Protestant ministers, — John Henry (16701729), who wrote
Bcschreibung dcs Lands Glartu (1714) ; John Thomas (1714 1786),
who left behind him several elaborate MSS. on the local history of
Glarus , and John James (1722-17S4). who compiled an elaborate
family history from 900 to 1500, and an account of other Glarus
families. John Louis (d 1784), who settled in Metz and contri-
buted to the Encyclopidie, and Friedrich (1820-1886), the author
of Das Thurlcben der Alpenwelt, were distinguished naturalists.
Among the soldiers may be mentioned CHniSTOpUER (1571-1629), a
knight of Malta and an excellent linguist, who served in the French
and Spanish armies, while the brothers Locis Leonard (1700-
1779) and JOSEPH Anthony (1703-1770) were in the Neapolitan
service Valentine (1499 1555), the cousin of Giles, was. like the
latter, a pupil of Zwingli. whom he afterwards succeeded as pastor
of Glarus, and by his moderation gained so much influence that
during the thirty years of his ministry his sei vices were attended
alike by Catholics and Protestants
TSE-NAN FOO, the capital city of the province of Shan-
tung in China, stands in 36° 40' N lat. and 117° 1' E.
long. It IS situated in one of the earliest settled districts
of the empire, and figures repeatedly in the records of the
wars which troubled Ihe country during the six centuries
that preceded the Christian era. On the establishment of
the Han djTiasty (B.C. 206) it had the name which it now
bears, but during the next 200 years it was known at
different periods as P'ingyuen, Ts'ien-sh'ing, and Pohai.
In the 4th century its name wa-s changed to Tse ; and
by the founder of the T'ang dynasty (618-907) it was
christened Lin-tsze, by which name it was known until the
ovei throw of the Mongol dynasty in the 14th century,
wnen tiie name of Tsenan was restored to it. The city,
which lies in the valley of the present channel of the
Yellow river (Hoang-Ho), and at a short distance from its
banks, is surrounded by a triple line of defence. First is
the city wall, strongly built and carefully guarded, outside
this a granite wall, and beyond this again a mud rampart.
The streets are full of good shops, among which book,
picture, and flower shops are conspicuous. There are two
fine e.xamination halls, one for bachelors of arts and the
other for doctors of law, several handsome temples, and
a metropolitan "drum" tower The most noticeable
feature about the city is three springs outside the west
gate, which throw up as many streams of tepid water to
a height of about 2 feet. This water, which is pleasant
to the taste, and is highly prized for its healing qualities,
flows in such abundant quantities that it fills the moat and
forms a fine lake in the northern quarter of the city.
Wiih the taste which Chinamen always show in such
matters, the lake is divided into a uumber of water avenues
by floating banks, on which flowers and trees are skilfully
arranged, and is further adorned with several picturesque
summer houses, which form points of attraction to picnic
parties and pleasure-seekers during the warmer months.
Its waters abound with many species of edible fish. The
population of the town is reckoned at about 100,000,
among whom are 2000 Mohammedan families. The city
is the centre of a Roman Catholic see, and has opened
its gates to several Protestant missionary bodies.
See Williamson, Journeys m North Ckina, London, 1870.
TSETSE FLY (Glosstiui morsttans). The tsetse fly, so
much dreaded by the traveller in South Africa, belongs to
the sub-family Muscinx a d is closely allied to Stomoxt/s.
It 13 scarcely larger than the common house fly, which it
resembles in its general shape. It can, however, be easily
distinguished by its colour and the position of its wings.
These are longer than the abdomen, and when at rest they
project behind it, overlapping one another at their tips.
This gives the fly a longer and narrower outline than that
of the bouse fly. The colour is somewhat like that of the
honey bee ; the thora.x is chestnut brown
with four longitudinal black stripes, the ,
abdomen light yellow with transverse
ba-^ of dark brown on its dorsal surface.
The proboscis, with which the fly inflicts
its sting, is grooved and contains two
long styles , and it is guarded by a
pair of setose palps. At the base of
the proboscis is a dilated horny bulb,
and in this swelling it is supposed that
the poison is secreted. The bite of the Tsetse fly [O!osi^na
tsetse is innocuous to man and is not morsiiaiis).
more painful than that of a gnat. Large game, goats,
and apparently all animals whilst suckling, are also un-
afl"ected by it. But to the horse, ox, and dog it is fatal.
The poison may take effect after a few days, or the
animal may remain apparently unaffected for some
months ; but e%'eatuaLly symptoms of poisoning appear.
These symptoms seem to be rather variable ; as a rula
swellings arise under the jaws and around the navel, the
eyes and nose begin to run, and, although the animal con-
tinues to graze, it becomes more and more emaciated,
suffers violently from purging, and at length succumbs
to extreme exhaustion. Post-mortem examination shows
that the muscles, and especially the heart, are in a very
soft and flabby condition. The lungs and liver are affected,
the gall bladder distended with bile. The fat is of a
greenish yellow colour and oily consistency, the blood
small in quantity and very thin, with hardly any power of
staining. At present no cure is known for the bite, nor
does inoculation seem to afford any protection. The fly
is said to avoid animal excreta, and in some parts a paste
composed of milk and manure is smeared on cattle which
are about to pass through the " fly-belts." This affords a
certain amount of protection. Lion's fat is used in the
samp way, and is said to be efficacious.
The fly is found as a rule in the neighbourhood of water, and its
habitat is usually sharply dehued. Often it occurs on one side of
a stream but not on the other. The limits of the " fly-belts" are
well known to the natives, and travellers can ensure comparatfve
safety to their cattle by passing through these districts after sun-
down. The northern limits of the area inhabited by the tsetse
are not known It is found throughout the valley of the Limpopo
river, but does not come much south of this, except in the eastern
borders of the Transvaal. Here it extends far south of Delagoi
Bay, and infests the Lobombu Mountains and the Amatonga
country, reaching to the confines of Santa Lucia Bay. It appears
to be gradually retreating northwards, following the big game.
The ay is figured in Pnc. ZxL Soc, ISiO, and by Frauk Oates, ilatahelt
Laiui a-nd thi Victoria Falls, ISSl.
TUAM, a market town and episcopal city of Galway,
Ireland, is the terminus of the Athenry and Tuam Railway,
and lies 20 miles north-east of Galway and 129 west of
Dublin. An abbey was founded here towards the end of the
2a— 22»
602
T U A — T U B
5th century, and in the beginning of the 6th an episcopal
8ee by St Jarlath. The new Protestant cathedral of St
Mary occupies the site of the original cathedral, built in
1 1 30, and includes the chancel arch of the ancient building,
now forming the great doorway, — a very fine specimen of
the old Romanesque. The Roman Catholic cathedral in
the later Early English style is one of the finest modern
Catholic churches in Ireland. Adjoining it is the Roman
Catholic college of St Jarlath, usually called the "New
College," founded in 1814 for the education of candidates
for the priesthood. To the west are the archbishop's
palace and a convent of Presentation nuns. The other
public buildings are the workhouse, the dispensary, and
the market-house. The town has a considerable retail
trade, and is a centre for the disposal of agricultural pro-
duce. From 4223 in 1871 the population decreased to
3567 in 1881.
The see of Tuam wa3 raised to an archbishopric about 1152.
Under the Church Temporalities Act of 1839 it was reduced to a
bishopric, but is still the seat of a Roman Catholic archbishop. It
recMved its first charter in the 11th year of James I. It formerly
returned two members to parliament, but was disfi*anchised at the
^Jnion.
TUAMOTU ARCHIPELAGO,' a broad belt of seventy
coral islands lying between 14' 5' and 23° 22' S. lat. and
134° 25' and 148° 40' W. long., and now under the pro-
tection of France. They trend in irregular lines in a north-
west and south-east direction, and cover 1500 miles of the
Pacific, the easternmost Tuamotus being 3600 miles from
Peru.^ With the exception of a few insignificant islands
the archipelago consists of atolls (see Cokals and Pacific
Ocean), mostly chains of low islets that crown the reefs
and sometimes also obstruct the deep lagoons which they
encircle. The largest island, >fairsa (Dean's Island), with a
lagoon 45 miles long by 15 wide, is made up of twenty
islets. Fakarava, the next in size, consists oi fifteen islets,
and its oblong lagoon affords the best anchorage in the
group. Hao has fifty islets, and its lagoon is dangerously
studded with coral. The symmetrically placed eleven
islets of Anao suggested to Captain Cook the name of
Chain Island. Matahiva, Niao, and Mururoa are good
specimens of the horse -shoe-shaped atolL Nengonen-
gone, Fangataufa, and Marutea, true lagoon islands, form
unbroken rings round their lake-like lagoons. In a few
of the smaller atolls the lagoons have been completely
silted up. To the south-east lie the Gambler Islands, a
•cluster of four larger and many smaller volcanic islets,
enclosed in one wide reef. The wooded crags of Mangareva,
the largest islet, 5 miles in length, rise to a height of 1 300
feet and are covered with a rich vegetation, quite Tahitian
, in character ; but, as in the other Tuamotus, there is a
dearth of animal life. This group was discovered by
Captain Wilson of the London Missionary Society in 1797.
Tahitian teachers were sent thither in 1 834 , but Catholic
missionaries followed in 1836, and converted the entire
population. The natives, once very numerous, now number
less than a thousand, and are still decreasing. Cannibal-
ism was formerly prevalent. In physique, language, re-
ligion, and custom the Gambler Islanders closely resemble
the Rarotongans. Beechey surveyed the group in 1826,
and D'Urville in 1838. Pitcairn Island and a few unin-
Siabited rocks lie still farther to the south-east. The
Tuamotus are healthy and as a rule have a lower mean
' TTiere ia no collective name for the archipelago among the
ToamotuaDs themselves, but the Tahitiaos call it Paumotu (i.c.,
Cload of Islaods). The group is Bougainville's Dangerous Archipelago,
Flearieu's Bad Sea, Krusenstem's Low Islands, and the Pearl Islands
<tt traders.
* Distinct names have been given to eight clusters of the archi-
pelago,— Disappointment Islands, King George's Islands, Palliser
lAlands, Raeffsky Islands, Two Groups, Duke of Gloucester Islands,
Action or Ampbi trite group, and Gambier Islands.
temperature than Tahiti. The easterly trade winds prevail'
Rain and fogs occur even diaring the dry season. The
stormy season lasts froo November to March, when de-
vastating hurricanes are not uncommon and a south-
westerly swell renders the western shores dangerous.
Plants and animals are very meagrely represented, even
more so than in the atolls of Micronesia. Cocoa-palms
and the pandanus thrive on many of the islets, and the
bread-fruit, banana, pine-applft, and arum have been intro-
duced from Tahiti into the western islands. Mammals
are represented by a rat , among land-birds a parakeet, a
thrush, and a dove are noticeable ; and of reptiles there is
only one lizard. Insects are scarce. But the sea and
lagoons teem with turtle, fish, moUusks, crustaceans, and
zoophytes. Coral grows luxuriantly everywhere. From
the abundance of pearl-oysters the archipelago gets its
name of Pearl Islands ; pearl-fishing indeed is the only
remunerative industry. Under French control the newest
appliances for obtaining shells have now mostly superseded
the laborious diving of the natii-es. The Tuamotus are
very thinly inhabited by a fine strong Polynesian race,
more muscular and mostly darker-skinned than that inhabit-
ing Tahiti. In the west considerable intermLsture with
other races has taken place. Of the habits of the people
little is known, and many of the islands are still marked
"hostile inhabitants" on the English Admiralty charts.
In the eastern islands cannibalism existed. Tattooing is
not universal. Clothing and ornaments are very scanty
The huts are mean square buildings, often mere shelters
of leaves. Good outrigger and single and double canoes
are buUt, the larger ingeniously stitched together of small
pieces of drift wood. Fishing with net and hook is much
practised. Food besides fish consists almost exclusively of
cocoa-nuts and pandanus fruit. Water is scarce.
Magellan's first discovery of land after reaching the Pacific in
1 520 was one of the Tuamotus. Various portions of the archipelago
were in turn crossed by Queiros (1605), Lemaire and Schouten
(1616), Roggeween (1722), Byron (1765), Wallis (1767), Bougain-
ville (1768), Cook (1769), the "Duff" (1797), Krusenstem (1803),
Kotzebue (1816), Fitzroy (1835), D'Urville (1838), and Belcher
(1840). The first systematic survey was instituted in 1818 by
Bellinghausen, and was continued in 1823 by Duperry, in 1826 by
Beechey, and in 1839 by Wilkes. Thanks to these- many explorers,
the islands have been christened and rechristened with a chaos of
Spanish, Dutch, English, French, German, and Russian names.
Seethe narratives of the vanons explorera cited above, and Meinicke. Jnseln
'des sliUen Octans (Leipsic, 1876) : for general statistics and an account of the
pearl. fistienes. see I^otices ColontaUs, Paris, 1S86.
TUBERCLE. See Pathology, vol. xviii. p. 405, and
Phthisis.
TUBEROSE. The cultivated tuberose (Polianthes tuber,
osa) is allied to the Mexican agaves and is a native of
the same country. The tuberous root-stock sends up a
stem 3 feet in height, with numerous lanceolate leaves and
terminal racemes of white funnel-shaped, very fragrant
flowers. Each flower is about 1 i inches long, with a long
tube and a six parted limb. The stamens are six in
number, emerging from the upper part of the tube, and
bear linear anthers. The ovary is three-celled ; but the
mature fruit ^.nd seed are not botanicaliy known. The
plant is largely grown in the United States and at the
Cape of Good Hope for export to England, as it is found
that imported bulbs succeed better than those grown in
the United Kingdom. The cultivated plants have double
flowers and require a rich soil, considerable heat, and, at
first, abundance of water.
TUBINGEN, the university town of Wiirtemberg, is
picturesquely situated on the hilly and well-wooded banks
of the Neckar, at the junction of the Ammer and Stein-
lach, 18 miles south of Stuttgart, and on the S.E. border
of the Black Forest. The older town is irregularly built
and unattractive, but the newer suburbs, the chief of
which is the Wilhelmsstrasse, are handsome. The most
T U C -T U C
conspicuous building is the old ducal castle of Hohen-
tiibmgen, built in 1507-1540 on a hill overlooking the
town, ajid now containing the university library, observa-
tory, chemical laboratory, ic. Among the other chief
buildings are the- quaint old Stiftskirche (1469-83), and
^f "';'', ""^^ ^'^'^ numerous institutes of the university, all
of which are modern. A monument was erected in 1873
to the poet Uhland (1787-1862), who was born and is
buried here. Tiibingen's chief claim to attention lies in
Us famous university, founded in 1477 by Duke Eberhard.
Ihe university adopted the Reformed faith in 1534, and
in lo36 a Protestant theological seminary— the so-called
btift— wa^ incorporated with it. In 1817 a Roman
■l^thoUc theological faculty (the " Convict ") and a faculty
of poUtics and economics were added, and in 1863 a
faculty of science. The leading faculty has long been that
of theolog)', and an advanced school of theological criticism,
the founder and chief light of which was F. C. Ba[jr Ig v )
is known as the Tubingen school Melanchthon was lec-
turer at Tubingen before he wa.s summoned to Wittenberg
The university is attended by about 1400 students, a con-
siderable proportion of whom are foreigners, and has a
teaching staff of 53 professors, 17 extraordinary professors,
and 10 lecturers. The commercial and manufacturing
Judustries of the town are slight. Printing, book-sellinf
the manuiacture of surgicd and philosophical instruments,
anci the cultivation of hop.?, fruit, and vines are amcmg the
leading occupations of the inhabitants. The population
tn 1885 was 12,660 (11,708 in 1880). The country in
the neighbourhood of Tubingen is very attractive; one of
the most interesting points is the former Cistercian monas-
tery of Bebenhaiisen, founded in 1185, and now a royal
bunting-chateau.
Tubiugen is mentioned as a strong fortress in 1078 In 1342 it
«-as purchased by the count of Wurtemberg, whose descendants
afterwards acquu-ed the title of duke. The treaty of TUbiiK^eo is
?^?/hi?' ^"n ,'° 9^'^l° ^''^"'y »° ^^ arrangement n.ade in
1514 between Duke Ulnch and his subjects, by which the latter
acquired vanonsnghts and privUeges on condition of relieving the
i^^^'o" u ^^^''^- ^''^ ^^^ "^ raptured by the Swabian League
?h„!i %^ ^"^"c '° ^"'' ^°^ ^g^'" 1° 16S8 by the French,
.-vho destroyad the fortifications. Tubingen was made a garrison
TUCKER, ABRAHAii (1705-1774), holds a place of his
own among the English moraUsts of the 18th century
He was bom in London, of a Somerset family, on 2d
September 1705. Hie father, a wealthy city merchant,
died in his son's infancy, leaving him to the guardianship
of his uncle. Sir I.-^aac TiUard, a man of a rare integrity
of character, to whom Tucker never failed to acknowledge
a deep debt of gratitude. In 1721 Tucker entered Merton
College, Oxford, as a gentleman commoner. Here he
devoted himself chiefly to philosophical and mathematical
studies, but also found hisure to master French and Italian
and to acquire considerable proficiency in music. He after-
wards studied law at the Inner Temple, but as ^is fortune
made him independent of a profession he was never called
to the bar. In 1727 ho bought Betchworth Castle, near
IJorking, where he passed the remainder of his life, occu-
pied, in addition to his favourite studies, with the usual
pursuits of a weU-to-do country gentleman. He took no
part m politics, however, and even wrote a pamphlet. The
Country Genlleman's Advice to his Son on the Subject of
Party Clubs (1755), cautioning young men against the
dangers of rashly pledging themselves to political principles
and measures of which their riper judgment may disapprove.
In 1 / 36 Tucker married Dorothy Barker, the daughter of
a neighbouring landed proprietor. His wife, to whom he
was fondly attached, died in 1754, leaving him with two
<laughteis. "As soon as the first excess of his grief was
somewhat mitigated," we are told, "he occupied himself
lo collecting together all the letters that had passed between
603
them at periods when they were accidentally separated
from each other, which he transcribed twice over, under the
title of' 'The Picture of Artless Love. One copy he gave
to Mr Barker, his father-in-law, and the other he kept, and
frequently read over to his daughters." He took an active
part in the education of his daughters, and from this time
onward began to occupy himself with the composition of
the work by which he is known— T/ie Liy/it of Nature
Purxu(d. He made seven.1 sketches of the plan of his
work, one of which— in dialogue— he went the length of
printing before finally deciding on the method he should
pursue. He also sought to qualify himself for authorship
by the study of the most elegant Greek and Latin classics
and by translating the most admired passages of Cicero,
Demosthenes, and Pliny several times over. Moreover!
after his work was written, he twice transcribed it with
his own hand. In 1763 he published a .specimen under
the title of " Free Will." The strictures of a critic in the
Monthly Revieio of July 1763 drew from him a pamphlet
called Afan in Quest of Hinaelf by Cuthberl Comvient.
This, as its sub-title states, is "a defence of the individu-
ality of the human mind or self"; it has been reprinted
in Parr's Metaphysical Tracts (1837). In 1765 the first
four volumes of his work were published under the pseudo-
nym of Edward Search. The remaining three volumes
did not appear till after his death. His eyesight failed
him completely in 1771, but his cheerfulness did not leave
him. He contrived an ingenious apparatus which enabled
him to write so legibly that the result could easily be tran-
scribed by his daughter In this way he completed the later
volumes, which were ready for publication when he was
seized by his last illness. He died on 20th November 1774.
A second edition of The Light of Nature appeared in 1805 with
a short life of the author by his grandson, Sir H P St John'jlild-
luay, which forms the sole biographical source. The work has
siuoe been repeatedly re-published in two large closely printed
volumes. A useful abridgment was published (anonymously) by
Ua^litt in 1807; for, as he truly says, it is "swelled out with
endless repetitions of itself The author was a private gentleman,
who wrote at his ease, and for his own amusement When a
subject presented itself to him, he exhausted all he had to say upon
it, and then dismissed it for another. If the same subject recurred
again in a different connexion, he turned it over in his thoughts
afresh ; as his ideas arose in his mind, he committed them to paper ;
he repeated the same things over again or inserted any new observa-
tion or example that suggested itself to him in confirmation of his
argument; and thus by the help of a new title, and by giving a
dilfereut application to the whole, a new chapter was completed.
By this means, as he himself remarks, his writings are rather a
tissue of loose essays than a regular work." In spite of Tucker's
elaborate care in composition, there is no doubt that this fairly
characterizes the rambling prolL^ity of his book ; 'but it may bo
questioned whether an epitome can convey the real merits of such
a style and treatment— qualities which have earned for Tucker
from Sir James Mackintosh the designation of a "metaphysical
Montaigne. " These are his sound hearty common sense, the origin-
ality of a man who looks at everything for himself completely
untrammelled by system, a remarkable aptness in illustration, and
occasional gleams of a mild humour. Though the The light of
Kalure embraces in its scope many psychological and more strictly
metaphysical discussions, it is chiefly in connection with ethics
that Tucker's speculations are remembered. This is the subject
which the author puts into the foreground himself; from his
earliest youth, he tells us, his thoughts took a turn "toward
searching into the foundations and measures of right and wrong "
In some important points Tucker anticipates the utilitarianism
shortly afterwards systematized by Paley, and Paley, it ni.ay bo
noted, expresses in the amplest terms his obligations to his prede-
cessor. •■ Every man's own satisfaction " Tucker holds to be the
ultimate end of action ; and satisfaction or pleasure is one and the
same in kind, however much it may vary in degree. This universal
motive is further connected, as by Paley, through the will ofGod '
with the " general good, the root where out all our rules of conduct
and sentiments of honour are to branch." Tucker adopts from
Hartley the prmciple of association, or, as he calls it, "translation,"
to explain the formation of the moral sentiments and the phenomena
of disinterested action gcncr.illy. In his general analysis of the
mind he professes to follow Locke, though with great latitude in
details, and even in much that is not matter of detail
604
T U C — T U L
TUCKER, JosiAH (171 1-1799), dean of Gloucester from
1758, a sagacious and candid writer on politics and political
economy. See Political Economy (vol. xix. p. 365).
TUCSON, a city in Pima county, Arizona Territory,
United States, is situated in 32° 13' N. lat. and 110° 53'
W. long, at an elevation of 2403 feet above the sea, upon
the Santa Cruz river and on the Southern Pacific Railroad,
about 70 miles from the Mexican frontier. The surround-
ing country is arid and barren, except where it has been
fertilized by irrigation. The climat« is exceedingly hot
and dry. The principal industries of Tucson, besides stock-
rearing, are connected with mining, as it is a supply point
for mining districts in the neighbouring mountains-and has
several smelting works. The population, which in 1860
was 91.5, in 1870 3224, had grown by 1880 to 7007, and
in 18S7 was estimated to number nearly 10,000. About
one-lialf are of foreign birth, a large proportion being
Mexicans. Tucson is one of the oldest settlements in the
United States, having been founded as a Jesuit mission by
the Spaniards in the 17th century.
TUCUMAN, or, more fully, San Migdel de Toctjman,
capital of the province of Tucuman, in the Argentine Re-
public, is astraggling town, on the right bank of the Tala
(a subtributary of the Rio Salado), at the eastern base of
the Sierra de Aconquija, in 26° 50' S. lat. and 64° 35' W.
long. It is connected by rail with Cordova and Rosario.
The surrounding district is fertile, and also produces excel-
lent timber. Leather and sugar are the principal objects
of industry. The population was recently estimated at
17,000.
TUDELA, a city of Spain, in the province of Navarre,
is situated on the right bank of the Ebro where it is joined
by the Queyles, and on the railway from Zaragoza to
Pamplona, about 50 miles to the north-west of the former
city. The Ebro is here crossed by a fine old bridge, 400
yards in length, consisting of seventeen arches. The only
building within the town of any mterest is the fine church
of Santa Maria, founded in 1135 and consecrated in 1188,
the doorivays and cloisters being specially rich in sculptural
ornamentation. The manufactures of the place (cloth,
silk, pottery) are unimportant. There is some trade in
wine and oil. The population within the municipal
boundaries in 1877 was 10,086.
Tudela, anciently TaUla, was t[ie birthplace of the celebrated
roedifeval traveller Be.vjamin {?. u. ) of Tndela. It was made an
episcopal see in 1783, which was suppressed in 1S51.
TUDOR, HoosE OF. See Heney VII. and Lancastek,
House of, vol. xiv. p. 257.
TUKE, Samuel (1784-1857), English philanthropist,
gon of Henry Tuke, bom at York in 1784, greatly advanced
the cause of the amelioration of the condition of the in-
sane, and devoted himself largely to the York Retreat, the
methods of treatment pursued in which he made more
widely known by his Description of the Retreat near York,
kc (York, 1813). His writings on the construction of
asylums and on other subjects connected with the insane
are well known. He died in 1857.
TUKE, William (1732-1822), English philanthropist,
was born at York m 1732. He devoted himself to many
philanthropic objects, but Lis name is more especially
known in connexion with the humane treatment of the
insane, for whose care he projected in 1792 the Retreat at
York, which became famous both abroad and in Great
Britain as an institution in which 8- bold attempt was
made to manage lunatics without thi excessl-« restraints
then regarded as- essential. Not less remarkable was the
departure from the beaten track of treatment in regard
«o copious bleedings and the frequent administration of
emetics and depressing remedies. The asylum was entirely
under the management of the Society of Friends, and
remains so at the present time, but there are a large
number of inmates not connected in any way with this
body. The original character of the methods pursued at
the Retreat attracted much attention, and its marked suc-
cess led to comparisons being made between it and other
establishments, the abuses in some of which became so
notorious as to be brought under the notice of parliament,
and led to more stringent legislation in the interests of
the insane. The condition of this unfortunate class became
greatly improved in consequence. William Tuke did not
Uve to see the most important of the Acts passed, but.
when he died, in 1822, the superiority of the treatment
adopted at the Retreat was fully acknowledged.
See Report of the Select Committee of the Hoxisc of Commons, 1815-
1816 ; Dr Conolh , Treatment of the Insane without Mc-chanical
Restraints, 1856 ; Dr Hack Tuke, Chapters in the Hisiory of the
Insane in the British Isles, 1882.
Hesbt Tuke (1756-1814), son of the preceding and father of
Samuel Tuke, co-operated with his father in the reform at the York
Retreat. He was tho author of several moral and theological
treatises, which have been translated into German and French.
TULA, a government of central Russia, boimded by
Moscow on the N., Ryazan on the E., TamboJf and Orel
on the S., and Kaluga on the W., has an area of 11,950
square miles. It is intersected from south-west to north-
east by a gently undulating plateau, from 950 to 1020
feet in height, which separates the drainage area of the
Oka from that of the Don. The average elevation of
Tula is about 800 feet, and its surface is an undulating
plain ; but the rivers flow in valleys so deeply cut and so
scored with ravines that in their neighbourhood the country
assumes the aspect of :• hilly region. Devonian limestones,
dolomites, and sandstones appear chiefly in the south-west ;
Lower and Middle Carboniferous limestones and clays
occupy the remainder of the area. The former contain
deposits of coal, which are now worked (chiefly at Malevka
and Novoselsk) to the extent of nearly one and a half
million cwts. annually. Jurassic clays are found in patches
here and there. Glacial boulder clay covers most of the
region, while Lacustrine deposits are widely spread in the
valleys and depressions. Iron -ore is found all over the
government ; limestone, fire-clay, and pottery clay are also
obtained. The soil is black earth in the south and east
and clay or sandy clay in the north-west. Tula is watered
chiefly by the Oka and its tributaries (Upa, Zusha, Osetr,
and Pronya). The Don rises in Lake Ivan-Ozero (which
feeds also a tributary of the Oka), and has a course of
35 miles within Tula. It is not navigable, and Peter I.'s
attempt to connect it with the Oka by means of a canal
was never carried out. Lakes and marshes (chiefly in the
north-west) are few. Forests (8 per cent, of the area) are
rapidly disappearing. The climate is less rigorous than
that of Moscow, the average yearly temperature being 40°'2
Fahr. (January, 13°-8; July, 67°'5).
The flora of Tula deserves some attention as marking the trans-
ition from that of the south-east steppes to that of north-west
Russia. A line drawn on the northern slope of the water-parting
already mentioned (a few miles to the south of the city of Tula)
divides the province into two parts, of which the southern is a
black earth region and the other is chietly covered with boulder
clay. The boundary is marked by a series of crown forests —
formerly a me^ns of defence against the nomad tribes, whence their
name Zasyeka — which at the same time constitute a line that is
not pasi^^d by several species characteristic of the steppe region,
such as tho Lilia of the steppes, Lilium Martagon, Linum Jlaviim,
Lathyrus pisi/ormis, Qeramum sanguineum, Pyrethrttm corym-
busum, and Serratula heterophylla. On the other hand, several
northern species, which are quite common in the marshes of Mos-
cow, do not penetrate into Tula, and several others, such as Linnma
borealis, Viola pahistris, Cirsium palustre, Pedicularispalustris, do
not cross'tho Zasyeka. The same forests shelter several northern
species which do not appear eitK^ in northern or southern Tula,
as also several southern herbaceous plants which are now only
occasionally met with in' the black earth steppes, of south Rnssia.
Several West-European plants (Sanicula.europaea, Carez remoto.
T U L — T U L
605
Cephalanlhera ensifolia. Allium uTsinum) find tlieir eastern limits
«D Tula. Another interesting feature is the extension down the
v-illcy of the Oka, not only of pine-forests, which are not found
elsewhere within the province, but also of many herbaceous plants
•originally from the south or south-west. The steppe flora dl Tula
is £;ing rapidly impoverished in consequence of the spread of agri-
culture : many steppe plants are now found only in their last
retreats on the dry uncultivated limestone crags.
The population of the government (750,000 in 1777) in 1SS3
was 1,360,000, of whom 115,770 were urban. They are all Great
Russians, and either Orthodox Greeks or Raskolniks. Their chief
occupation is agriculture, 70 per cent of the area being arable.
Nearly one-half of the soil belongs to landlords and merchants, and
the other half to the peasant communities (53 per cent, of the area,
«nd 5S per cent, of the land under culture). The crops for 18S3-85
averaged 7,574,200 quarters of grain and 10, 1 72, 000_ bushels of
potatoes, largely used for distilleries. Beet-root culture is increasing
(8520 acres in 1SS5, yielding 59,800 cwts. of sugar). The growth
of tobacco is also spreading (10,000 cwts. in 1SS5). There were in
1883 380,620 horses, 203,500 cattle, and 786,000 sheep. Manu-
factures are rapidly developing ; "their aggregate production was
valued at £1,649,720 in 1883 (distilleries £293,956, sugar-works
£601,827, tanneries £148,356, iron works, brass works, ic, about
£150,000). Petty trades, especially the manufacture of tea-urns,
small brass ware, and harmoniums, and also weaving, are extensively
carried on and support a lively export trade ; timber, raw metals,
and various manufactured wares are imported. The government is
traversed by the Moscow and Sebastopol and the Ryazhsk and
Vyazemsb Railways, as well as by the Oka. The government
is divided into twelve districts, the chief towns of which, with
their population in 1882, are Tula (sec below). Alexin (4960),
Bogoroditsk (8030), Byeleff (9300), Epifaii (3820), Efremoff (7770),
Kashira (4610), Krapivna (1560), Novosil (4660), Odoeff(5140), and
Tchera (2675). Byeleff, Alexin, and Kashira are important loading
places pu the Oka. The villages Malevka (coal-mines) and Niki-
tino have more than 5000 inhabitants each.
History. — Before the Slavonic immigration, the territory of Tula
was inhabited by the Mordves on the north and the Mestchers in
the south. The Slavs who occupied the Oka belonged to the branch
of the Vyatichis, who were soon compelled to pay a tribute to the
Khazars. Subsequently the territory on the Oka belonged to the
principality of Tchernigoff, thus maintaining its connexion with
south-west Russia. In the 14th century part of it fell under the
rule of Ryazan and Moscow, while the remainder was under Lithu-
anian dominion till the 15th century. Several of the towns of
Tula were founded in the 12th centurj-, but the colonization of this
fertile region went on slowly on account of the raids of the Tatars.
TULA, capital of the above government, is situated on
the Upa, 120 miles by rail to the south of Moscow. Other
railway lines connect it with Ryazaii and Orel. It is built
in the broad but low, marshy, and unhealthy valley of the
Upa and is divided into three parts,— the Posad on the
left bank, the Zaryetskaya or Oruzbeinaya on the right
bank, and TchuUcova between the Upa and the Tulitsa.
It is an old town of Old Russia, but its growth began only
towards the end of the 18th century after the manufacture
of arms had commenced, and now (1887) its population has
reached 65,100 (63,500 in 1882). They are employed
chiefly either at the imperial gun factory or at numerous
private factories (about 130, with 4350 men) and small
workshops. The main branch of the industry is the making
of rifles (from 20,000 to 30,000 annually) Next in im-
portance comes the manufacture of samovars (tea-urns),
in which more than 5000 persons are engaged All sorts
ot cutlery and ironmongery are manufactured in the small
workshops of Tula, which have a high repute in Russia.
N'o fewer than 240,000 harmoniums are turned out annually;
nearly 150,000 cwts. of steel, iron, and brass are imported
every year for this industry alone.
The town of Tulf is first mentioned in 1147 ; but its former site
seems to hava been higher up the Tulitsa. Its wooden fort was
replaced in 1514 1521 by a stone " kreml," which still exists.
Boris Godunoff founded a gun factory at Tula in 1595, and in 1632
a Dutchman, Winius, established an iron foundry. Michael Alexis
and Peter 1., especially the last-named, took great interest in the
gun factories, and large establishments were built in 1705 and 1714,
«hich soon turned out 15,000 rifles in a year. Catherine II. and
Paul I. further improved the manufactures, which during the wai-s
with France supplied more than half a million rifles.
TULIP (Tulipa), a genus of bulbous herbs belonging
to the Liliacex. The species are found wild along the
northern shores of the Jfediterranean, in the Levant
Armenia, Caucasus; Persia, Central Asia, and Afghanistaa
The cup-shaped flowers have six regular segments in Wra,
rows, as many free stamens, and a three-celled ovary with a
sessile stigma, which ripens into a leathery many-seeded
capsule. The species are numerous, and are distinguished
one from another by the scales of the bulb being woolly or
smooth on the inner surface, by the character of the flower-
stalks, by the filaments being hairy or otherwise, and by
other characters. Owing to the great beauty of the flowers
they have been favourites in European gardens for two or
three centuries, and have been crossed and recrossed till it
has become almost impossible to refer the plants to their
original- types. The early flowering "Van Thol" tulips,
Ihe segments of which are mostly.scarlet with yellow edges,
are derived from T. suaveolens, a native of the Caspian
region. T. Gestienana, a native of Armenia and central
Russia, is the origin of some of the later flowering varieties.
T. pubescens, thought by Mr Baker to be a hybrid between
the two species just named, is the source of some of the
early flowering kinds known as " pottebakker," &c. T.
ocutus soils and T. Clusiana are lovely species, natives of
southern France, and T. silvesiris, with elegant yellow
pendulous flowers, is a doubtful native of England.
During the last few years, owing to the exertions of
Russian naturalists, a large number ef new species have
been discovered- in Turkestan, and introduced into Europe.
Some of these are veiy beautiful, and render it probable
that by intercrossing with the older species still further'
difi3ci,dties will be presented in the way of identification.
These difliculties are further enhanced by the fact that,
quite apart from any cross-breeding, the plants, when
subjected to cultivation, vary so greatly in the course of
two or three years from the original species from which
they are directly descended that their parentage is scarcely
recognizable. This innate power of variation has enabled
the florist to obtain, and ultimately to " fix," so many re-
markable varieties. At the present day tulips are less
fashionable than they once were, and consequently the
enormous prices given for new or improved varieties no
longer obtain, though, even now, two and three guineas are
asked for special bulbs. It must, however, be remembered
that the "tulipomania" of the 17th century was really a
form of gambling, in which admiration of the flower and
interest in its culture were very secondary matters. Tulips
were introduced into the Low Countries in the 16th century
from Constantinople and the Levant by way of Vienna and
Venice. There is a legend that an Antwerp merchant, to
whom bulbs were sent, cooked them for onions ; and to
this day the natives of some parts of Persia and Afghanistan
use the bulbs of Tu/ipa ckrysantha for food. The mode
of growth of a tulip bulb is worthy of attention. In spring,
at the flowering period, each bulb is a composite structure.
It consists, first, of the bulb of the year, which produces
the flowers and the leaves. From the axil of one (or more)
of the scales of the flowering bulb emerges a secondary
bulb, destined to form leaves and flowers for the nest
season's growth. In like manner from the side of the
second generation are produced tertiary bulbs, which flower
in the third year after their formation. Each bulb, there-
fore, has an existence of three years, flowering In the third
year, and dying afterwards, so that the bulb plafited in
the autumn is not the same one that flowered in the
spring, but a second generation. For the cultivation of
tulips, see HoRTictrLTtrRE, vol xii. p. 259.
TULLE, a toivn of France, chef-lieu of the department
of Corrfeze and a bishop's see, is 61 miles east-north-east
of Perigueus by the railway from Bordeaux to Clermond-
Ferrand. The to^vn rises picturesquely on both hanks of
the Corrfeze, a sub-tributary of the Dordogne. The Corrize,
COG
T U L — T U N
crossed by four bridges, flows between embankments, and
the narrow streets on the steep left bank are connected by
stairs. Of the 12th-ceatury cathedral only the porch and
the nave of six bays remain, the choir and transept having
been destroyed in 1793 ; but there is a Hth-century tower,
with a fine stone steeple. The neighbouring cloister (13th
century) is being restored. The abbot's house ( 1 5th centurj')
has a carved doorway and well-preserved windows; and
some curious houses of the 12th, 13th, and 14th centuries
still exist. Tulle possesses normal schools for male and
female teachers, and is the headquarters of the Historical
Society of Lower Limousin. The principal industry is the
manufacture of firearms. The Government establishments
employ from 1500 to 3000 workmen, and can turn out
70,000 gdns annually. Manufactories for the variety of
lace called " tulle " were first established here. There is
a collection of the firearms of all nations. The population
in 1886 was 10,635 (commune 16,275).
Tulle {Tutela Lemomcum] owed its importance'in the Middle
Ages to an abbey founded by St Martin, or, according to another
authority, in the 7th century, which was raised to a bishopric in
1317. Mascaron was bishop in the 17th century. The town was
taken by the English in 1346, and was subsequently ravaged by the
Black Death. It was again conquered by the English in 1369 ;
but, when the inhabitants succeeded in freeing themselves, they
were exempted from all Imposts by Charles V. The viscount of
Turenne, leader of the Protestants, tried in vain to seize Tulle in
1577, but was successful in 15S5.
TULLE, a term restricted in England to a fine bobbin-
net of silk, used for veils, scarves, millinery purposes, and
trimmings of ladies' dresses, &c. The French used the
word to mean all machine-made lace the basis of which
is the intertwisted net-work made on the bobbin-net
machine. The word is derived from the town of Tulle in
France (see above).
TULLOCH, JoHK (1823-1886), Scottish theologian,
was born at Bridge of Earn, Perthshire, in 1823, went to
school at Perth, and received his university education at
St Andrews and Edinburgh. In 1845 he became minister
of St Paul's, Dundee, and in 1849 of Kettins, in Strath-
more, where he remained for six years. His literary gifts,
shown in hia contributions to various reviews, as well as
his talent for society drew attention to him, and in 1854
he was appointed to the principalship of St Mary's College,
St Andrews. The appointment was immediately followed
by the appearance of his Burnet prize essay on Theism.
At St Andrews, where he held along with the principal-
ship the post of professor of systematic theology and
apologetics, his work as a teacher was distinguished by
several features which at that time were new. He lectured
on comparative theology and treated doctrine historically,
as being not a fixed product but a growth. From the
first he secured the attachment and admiration of his
students. In 1862 he was appointed one of the clerks of
the General Assembly, and from that time forward be took
a leading part in the councils of the Church of Scotland.
In 1878 he was chosen moderator of the Assembly. No
one, except perhaps Dr Robert Lee, has done more during
the last generation to widen the national church. Two
positions on which he repeatedly insisted in the Assembly
have taken a firm hold of the mind of that church, — first,
that it is of the essence of a church to be comprehensive
of various views and tendencies, and that a national church
especially should seek to represent all the elements of the
life of the nation ; secondly, that subscription to a creed
can bind no one to all its details, but only to the sum and
substance, or the spirit, of the symbol. For three years
before his death he was convener of the church interests
committee of the Church of Scotland, which had to deal
with a great agitation for disestablishment. He was also
deeply interested in the reorganization of education in
Scotland, both in school and university, and acted as one
of the temporary board which settled the primary school
system under the Education Act of 1872. His death took
place at Torquay on 13th February 1886.
Tulloch's best known works are collections of biograpMcat
sketches of the leaders of ^reat movements in church history, such
as the Reformation and Puritanism. His most important book.
Rational Theology and Christian Philosophy {Mil), is one in which
the Cambridge Platonists and other leaders of dispassionate thought
in the 17th century are similarly treated. He delivered the second.
series of the Croall lectures, on the Doctrine of Sin, which wers
afterivards published. He also published a small work. The Christ
of Ihi Gospels and the Christ of History, in which the views of Kenan
on the gospel history were dealt with ; a monograph on Pascal for
Blackwood's Foreign Classics series ; and a little work, Beginning
Life, addressed to young men, written at an earlier period. A Life
of TuUoch by Mrs OUphajjt is in preparation.
"TULLUS HOSTILIUS, third legendary king of Rome^
is represented as having reigned for thirty-two years
(670-638 B.C.). His successful wars with Alba, Fidense,
and Veil shadow forth the earlier conquests of Latiaa
territory and the first extension of the Roman domain
beyond the walls of Rome. See Rome, voL xx. p. 733.
TUMKUR, or Toomkoor, a district of India, in the west
of the Nandidriig division of Mysore, situated between 12°
43' and 14° 10' N. lat. and 76° 10' and 77° 30' E. long.,
with an area of 3420 square miles. It is bounded on the
north by the Bellary district, on the east by Kolar and
Bangalore, on the south by Mysore, and on the west by
Chitaldriig and Hassan. Tumkur consists chiefly of elevated
land intersected by river valleys. A range of hills rising
to nearly 4000 feet crosses it from north to south, and
forms the water-parting between the systems of the Krishna
and the Kdveri. The principal streams are the Jayamangala
and the Shimsha. The mineral wealth of Tumkur is con-
siderable ; iron is obtained in large quantities from the
hill sides ; and excellent building stone is quarried. The
slopes of the Devariy-durga Hills, a tract of 18 square miles,
are clothed with forests, in which large game are numerous,
including tigers, leopards, bears, and wild hogs. The
climate of Tumkur is generally considered as equable and
healthy ; the average annual rainfall amounts to nearly 33
inches. The Mysore State Railway enters the district at
the south-east corner and traverses it to the west.
In 18S1 the population of Tumkur numbered 413,183 (males
203,253, females 209,930), embracing 395,443 Hindus, 17,130
Mohammedans, and 603 Christians. Tumkur town, situated at tho
base of the Devaiiy-durga Hills, 43 miles north-west of Bangalore,
with a population of 9909, is the administi ative headquarters. Tho
cultivated products consist chiefly of rngi, miUet, wheat, sugar-
cane, various pulses, and oil seeds. Of the total area 745 square
miles are cultivated and 1544 cultivable. The chief industries are
the making of coarse cotton" cloths, woollen blankets, and ropes.
The exports comprise rdgi, unhusked rice, cocoa-nuts, areca-nuts,
earth salt, pulses, and vegetables ; the imports include European
piece goods, rice, spices, cotton, &c.
The history of Tumkur is common to the rest of Jlysore. After
the assumption of the administration of Mysore by the British in
1832 the district received its present name and limits.
TUMOUR. See Pathology, vol. xviii. p. 367, and
Surgery, vol. xxii. p. 687.
TUMULUS. See Ajjchitectdke, vol. ii. p. 384, and
Barrows, vol. iii. 397.
TUNBRIDGE, or Tonbridge, a town of Kent, England,
is situated on rising ground above the Medway, and on
the South-Eastern Railway, 41 miles (by rail) south-east
of London and 33 north-west of Hastings. The Medway
is crossed by a stone bridge, erected in 1775. The town
consists chiefly of one long main street and a large number
of suburban villas. The church of St Peter and St Paul
chiefly Decorated and Perpendicular with some 'i
an earlier date, has lately been restored. The grammar
school, founded by Sir Andrew Judd, an alderman of
London, in the 1st year of Edward VI., was rebuilt in 1865,
remodelled in 1880, aiid extended in 1887. Among other
public buildings are the town hall and market house, the
T U N — T U N
607
public ball, and the free library. Some traffic is carried
on by the Medway, which has been made navigable for
barges. Tunbridge ware, chiefly sold at Tunbridge Wells,
b largely manufactured. There are gunpowder mills on
the banks of the Medway; and wool -stapling, brewing,
and tanning are carried on. The population of the urban
sanitary district (area 1200 acres) in 1871 was 8209 and
in 1881 it was 9317
Tunbridge owed its early importanceto the castle built by Richard,
earl of Clare, in the reisn of Henry I. The castle was besieged by
William Rnfus, was taKen by John in the wars with the barons,
«Bd again by Prince Edward, son of Henry III. Subsequently it
became the property of the Staflbrds, and on the attainder of the
duke of Buckingham in the reign of Henry VIII. was taken posses-
sion of by the crowu. It was dismantled during the Civil War.
The remains now consist chiefly of a finely preserved gateway flanked
by two round towers. Formerly it was defended by three moats,
one of them formed by the Medway. The lords of the castle had
the right of attending the archbishops of Canterbury on state
occasions as chief bntlers.
TU^TBErDGE W^LLS, an inland watering -place of
England, chiefly in Kent but partly in Sussex, is situated
in the midst of charming and picturesque scenery, on .the
South-Eastern Railway and at the terminus of a branch
line of the London, Brighton, and South Coast Railway,
46 miles (by rail) south-east of London and 5 south of
Tunbridge. It owes its popularity to its chalybeate spring
and its romantic situation. The wells are situated near
the Parade (or Pantiles), a walk associated with fashion
since the time of their discoverj'. The houses and shops
in the Parade somewhat resemble the Rows at Chester. It
was paved with pantiles in the reign of Queen Anne. The
town is built in a picturesquely irregular manner, and a
large part of it consists of districts called " parks," occupied
by villas and mansions. On Rusthall common, about a
mile from the town, is the curiously shaped Toad Rock,
and about a mile south-west the striking group called High
Rocks. The principal public b'lildings are the pump-room,
the town -hall, the corn exchange, the public hall, the
mechanics' institute, the friendly society's hall, the dis-
pensary and infirmary, and the provident dispensary. The
Tunbridge Wells sanatorium is situated in grounds sixty
acres id extent, and is capable of receiving 150 visiters.
There is a large trade in Tunbridge ware, which is made
chiefly at Tunbridge, and includes work tables, boxes, toys,
&c., made of hard woods, such as beech, sycamore, holly,
and cherry, and inlaid with mosaic. The to\fti is governed
by a local board of twenty-four members. The population
of the urban sanitary district (area 3351 acres) in 1871
was 19,410 and in 1881 24,308.
The town owes its rise to the discovery of the medicinal springs
by Dudley, Lord North, in 1606. Henrietta Maria, wife of Charles
1., retired to drink the waters at Tunbridge after the birth of her
eldest son Charles. Soon after the Restoration it wa.s visited by
Charles II. and Catherine of Braganza, It was a favomite residence
of Anne previous to her accession, and fi-om that time became one
of the special resorts of London fashion. It reached the height of
its comparative popularity in the latter half of the 18th century,
and is specially associated with Colley Cibber, Samuel Johnson,
Cumberland the dramatist, Garrick, Richardson, Reynolds, Beau
Nash, Miss Chudleigh, and Mrs Thrale. The Tunbridge of that
period is sketched with much graphic humour in Thackeray's Vir-
ginians. Though it still attracts an increasing munber of visiters,
its importance in reference to London society has considerably
declined.
rilNG-CHOW, a subprefectural city in Chih-li, the
metropolitan province of China, is situated on the banks
of the Peiho in 39' 54' N. lat. and 1 16° 41' E. long., about
12 miles south-east of Peking. Like most Chinese cities,
T'nng-Chow has appeared in history under various names.
By the founder of the Han dynasty (206 B.C.) it was called
Lu-Hien; with the rise of the T'ang dynasty (G18 a.d.)
its name was changed to Heuen-Chow ; and at the begin-
jing of the 12th century, with the advent of the Kin
■^nasty te power, Heuen-Chow became T'ung-Chow. The
city marks the highest point at which the Peiho is navi-
gable, and here merchandise for the capital is transferred
to a canal, by which it reaches Peking. The city, which
is faced on its eastern side by the river, aad on its other
three sides is surrounded by populous suburbs, is upwards
of 3 miles in circumference. The walls are about 45 feet
in height and about 24 feet wide at the top. They are
being allowed to fall into decay. Two main thoroughfares
run through the city, one connecting the north and south
gates, and the other the east and west gates. The place
derives its importance from the fact that it is the port of
Peking. Its population was estimated at about 50,000 in
1S87
It was at T'ung-Chow that Sir Harry Parkcs, Sir Henry Loch, and
their escort were treacherously taken prisoners by the Chinese when
they were sent forward by Lord Elgin to negonate terms of peace
after the troubles of 1860.
TUNGSTEN (Germ, wolfram, or, antiquated, scheel),
one of the metallic elements of chemistry. The mineral
tungsten (meaning in Swedish " heavy stone ") used to
be taken for a tin ore until this was disproved by Cronsted.
Scheele showed in 1781 that it is a compoimd of lime with
a peculiar acid, the metallifv nature of which was recog-
nized in the same year by Bergmann. It occurs only as a
component of a number of relatively rare minerals, the
most important of which are wolfram or wolframite,
(Fe, Mn)0 .WO3, and scheelite (tungsten), CaOWOj (see
Minekalogy). The metal is prepared from the pure oxide
WO3 by reduction with hydrogen in a platinum tube at;
a high temperature. It forms resplendent tin-white or grey-
plates, or a dull black powder similar to hydrogen-reduced
iron. Sp. gr = 19129, water of 4° C. = 1 (Roscoe). It is
more difficult to fuse than even MaKgajnese (q.v.). It is
unalterable in ordinary air ; oxygen and even chlorine act
upon it only at a high temperature. Hydrochloric and
sulphuric acid do not attack it. Nitric acid attacks it slowly,
aqua regia readily, with formation of the trioxide WO3.
Impure tungsten is now being prepared industrially for
the production of a peculiar kind of steel (see Ikon, voL
xiii. p, 352).
ddoT-utes.— Tungsten forms four chlorides,— WCL, WClj, 'WCT,,
WCIb. The liighest, WCls, is obtained by heating the pure powdery
metal in a current of absolutely pure chlorine. In the presence
of moisture or air oxy-chlorides are produced. It sublimes off as t
dark red liquid, freezing into crystals. These fuse at 275° C. and
re-solidify at 270° j the liquid boils at 346°-7. The sp. gr. of the-
vapour is in accordance with the formnlaat 350° ; at higher tempera-
tures it dissociates into WCI5 and free Clo(Roscoe). When the vapour
of WClj is p.assed over heated trioxide, the two bodies unite, WO^
mth 2WCI5 into 3WOCI4, forming magnificent red needles, which
fuse at 210°-4 and boU at 227°-5 C. (Wohler). Both compounds,
WCls and WOClj, are decomposed by water, the o.'sy-chloridc more
readily, with formation of hydrochloric acid and trioxide. For
other chlorides and osy-chlorides, see the ordinary hand-books of
chemistry.
Oxides, WOn a-nd WO,, and Compounds of Viese with Each Olhcr^
—The trioxide, popularly known as tungstic acid, is tlie more-
important. Impure trioxide is producible by treating scheelite
{W03CaO) with hot hydrochloric acid. Wolframite is not so readily
decomposed ; but when fused with tmce its weight of chloride of
calcium it passes into lime salt, obtainable as an insoluble residue by
lixiviation of the fuse with water. The oxide obtained forms a yel-
low powder insoluble in water and in hydrochloric acid. To purify
it, it is washed, dissolved in aqueous ammonia, and the filtered
solution evaporated, when an acid tungstate of ammonia separates
out in scales of great purity. These, when heated in air, leave
behind them a pseudo-morphose of pure yellow oxide. Trioxide of
tungsten combines with basic oxides into tungstates ; but the pro-
portion in which it unites with a given base is subject to great
variation : for instance, the quantity Na-O of soda unites into so
many definite tungstates with 1, ]i, 2, 2}, 2s, 2>, 4 times WO3
and in each case more or less of water. To each of these sod.-i
salts corresponds theoretically a certain tungstic acid, — to the salt
Na^OWjOj, for instance, the acid HjOWjOj or H^WjO,. But few
of these hydrates actually exist, and they are not individual acids
in the sense in which the three phosphoric acid^ are, except per-
haps that remarkable substance known as metatungstic add.
60S
T U N — T U N
HjW^Ojj + ZHaO. This acid forma crystals of the stated composi
tion , it dissolves in water and the solution unites with bases into
meta t-ungstates. >Iost meta-tungstates are soluble in water; of the
tungstates proper only the alkali salts are so soluble. The soda
tuugstate, 5Na20 12W03 + 3:H-0, known as para- tungstate of soda,
is made industrially by fusing wolframite with carbonate of soda
and Uiciviating the fuse with water. The insoluble oxides of iron
and manganese are filtered off , the filtrate, while still hot, is nearly
neutralized with hydrochloric acid and allowed to crystallize. It
forms large crystals containing twenty -one, twenty five, or twenty-
eight times HjO according to the temperature at which they are
formed. The salt has been recommended as a mordant in dyeing
and calico printing, but has not taken root in these industries.
Oppenheim and Versmann recommended it before 1862 as the best
means for rendering te.ictile fabrics uninflammable. If a solution
of the para-tungstate is boiled with Lydrated tungstic acid (as ob-
tained by precipitating any ordinary alkaline tungstate solution
M-ith hydrochloric acid in the heat), or is simply mixed with excess
of acetic acid, the meta-tungstate is formed ; in the lattei case it
separates out as a heavy oil Meta-tungstate of soda forms octa-
hedral crystals of the composition Na^O . 4WO3 + lOH^O. If con-
centrated warm solutions of this salt and the equivalent quantity
of chloride of barium are mixed and allowed to cool after addition
of a little hydrochloric acid, meta-tungstate -of barium crystallizes
out as Ba0.4W03 + 9H20, in large quadratic pyramids which are
very easily soluble in water. From this salt the free acid is easily
produced by addition of the exact quantity x>f sulphuric acid re-
quired to precipitate the baryta, and from it any other meta-
tungstate is easily produced. Meta - tungstic acid solution is a
sensitive and characteristic precipitant for almost all alkaloids
(strychnine, quinine, &c.)- The allcaloid, whatever its name, goes
down as a fiocculent insoluble meta-tungstate. Tungstic acid com-
bines with phosphoric acid and with silicic acids into highly com-
plex phospho-tungstic acids and silico-tungstic acids. Of the for-
mer there is quite a series, each consisting of one PgOa united with
respectively fourteen, sixteen, eighteen, twenty, twenty-two, twenty-
four times \VO:j and six HjO of basic water. Of silico-tungstic
acids three are known, namely, one 4H2O . SiOj lOWOg + 3Aq and
two SiOo. 12WO3JH.JO All these complex acids (both kinds) are
easdy soluble in water The phospho-acids are delicate precipitants
for all alkaloids.
Tho binoxide, WO^, is obtained when the trioxide is reduced by
hydrogen at a dull red heat This oxide is very prone to pass into
trioxide or tungstate. Aji interesting and beautiful class of com-
pounds of WO3, WO2, and bases are known as tungsten bronzes. The
first of these lyas discovered by Wohler. Normal tungstate of soda,
NaoOWOa, is fused, and trioxide addyd to it as long as it dissolves.
The product is then heated in hydrogen as long as water goes away,
and the substance thus reduced is exhausted successively with water,
hydrochloric acid, caustic potash ley, and a^in with water. A
residue of the composition ^f a^O . ■W20g-t-.W0;i remains in the shape
of magnificent gold-like lustrous cubes, of specific gravity 6617,
which conduct electricity like a metal. Only hydroftuoric acid
dissolves this soda tungsten bronze. There are aTiumber of other
tungsten bronzes, all distinguished by metallic lustre and magni-
ficent purple, red, yellow, or blue colours.
Analysis — O.xides of tungsten dissolve in fused microcosmic salt,
Na^OPjOs ; the bead becomes blue in the reducing flame, in the
presence of iron blood -red, and in the oxidizing flame colourless.
When heated on charcoal with (not too much) carbonate of soda or
cyanide of potassium in the reducing flame, they yield a grey heavy
powder of metal, obtainable by elutriation. The process fails in the
presence of too much alkali Insoluble tungstates (e.g., the ordi-
nary tungsten minerals) are disintegrable by fusion with alkaline
carbonate ; the fuse, when treated with water, yields a solution of
alkaline tungstate. This solution, when mixed with excess of hydro-
chloric acid, gives a white precipitate of hydrated trioxide^ which
on boiling becomes yellow by partial dehydration. The yellow
unignited precipitate is soluble in aqueous ammonia. If tungstate
of alkali solutions are mixed with hydrochloric acid and then treated
with metallic zinc, they become blue through the formation of
a compound of WO3 and WQj or rather the respective chloride ;
this reaction gains in definiteness through the presence of phosphoric
acid. (WD)
TUNGUSES, a wide-spread Asiatic people, forming a
main branch of the Mongol division of the Mongol-Tatar
family. They are the Tung-ku of the Chinese, probably a
corrupt form of tonki or donk% that is, "men" or "people."
The Russian form Tungiis^ wrongly supposed to mean "lake
people," appears to occur first in the Dutch writer Massa
(1612); but the race has been- known to the Russians ever
since they reached the Yenisei. The Tungus domain,
covering many hundred thousand square miles in central
and east Siberia and in the Amur basin, stretches from
the Yenisei eastwards to the Pacific, where it occupies
most of the seaboard between Corea and Kamchatka. It
also reaches the Arctic Ocean at. two points, in the Nisovaya
tundra, west of the IChatanga river, and in.a comparatively
small enclosure in the Yana basin over agamst the Liakhoflf
(New Siberia) Archipelago. But the Tunguses proper are
chiefly centred in the region watered by the three large
eastern tributaries of the Yenisei, which from them take
their namea of the Upper, Middle or Stony, and Lower
Tunguska. Here the Tunguses are known to the Samoyedea
by the name of Aiya or "younger brothers," implying a
comparatively recent immigration (confirmed by other in-
dications) from the Amur basin, which appears to be the
original home both of the Tunguses and of the closely-
allied Manchus. The Amur is still mainly a Tungus river
almost from its source to its mouth, the Oroches (Orochus),
Daurians, Birars, Golds, Manegrs, Sanagirs, Ngatkons,
Nigidals, and some other aboriginal tribes scattered aiong
the main stream and its affluents, — the Shilka, Sungari, and
Usuri, — are all of Tungus stock and speech. On the Pacific
the chief subdivisions of the race are the Lamuts, or " sea
people," grouped in small isolated hunting communities
round the west coast of the Sea of Okhotsk, and further
south the Yu-pi-tartze (" fish clad "), the Tazi of the
Russians, between the Amur delta and Corea, The whole
race, exclusive of Manchus, numbers probably about
80,000, of whom 15,000 are in the Amur basin, the rest
in Siberia.
The Tuugua type is essentially Mongolic, being characterized by
broad flat features, small nose, wide mouth, tliin lips, small black
and somewhat oblique eyes, black lank hair, dark olive or bronze
complexion, low stature, averaging not more than five feet four
inches ; they are distinguished from other MongoUc peoples by the
square shape of the skull and the sUm, wiry, well-proportioned figure;
This -description applies more especially to the Tunguska tribes,
who may be regarded as typical Tunguses, and who, unlike most
other Mongols, betray no tendency to obesity. They are classed
by the Russians, according to their various pursuits, as Reindeer,
Horse, Cattle, Dog, Steppe, and Forest Tunguses. A few have
become settled agriculturists ^ but the great bulk of the race are
still essentially forest hunters, using the reindeer both as mounta
and as pack animals. Nearly all lead nomad lives, in pursuit of
fur-bearing animals, whose skis they supply to Russian and Yakut
traders, in exchange for provisions, clothing, and other necessaries
of life. Th^ picturesque and evpn elegant national costume shows
in its ornamentation and general style decided Japanese influence^
due no doubt to long- continued intercourse with that nation at
some period previous to the spread of the race from the Amut
valley to Siberia. Many of the Tungus tribes have been baptized,
and are, therefore, reckoned as "Greek Christians"; but Russian
orthodoxy has not penetrated far below the surface, and most ol
them are still at heart Shamanists and nature- worshippers, secretly
keeping the teeth and claws of wild animals as idols or amulets,
and observing Christian rites only under copipnlsion. But, whether
Christians or pagans.all alike are distinguished above other Asiatics,
perhaps above all other peoples, for their truly noble moral qualities.
All observers describe them as *' cheerful under the most depressing
circumstances, perserertng, open-hearted, trustworthy, modest yet
self-reliant, a fearkss race of hunters, born amidst the gloom of
their dense pine-forests, exposed from the cradle to every danger
from wild beasts, cold, and hunger. "Want and hardships of every
kind they endure with surprising fortitude, and nothing can induce
them t» take service under the Russians or quit their solitary wood-
lands" (Keanc's Asia^ p. 479). Their numbers are steadily de.
creasing owing to "the ravages of small-pox, scarlet fever, and
especially famine, their most dreaded enemy. Their domain is also
being continually encroached upon by the aggressive Yakuts from
the north and east, and from the south by the Slavs, now settled
in compact bodies in the province of Irkutsk about the upper course
of the Yenisei It is remarkable that, while the Russians often show
a tendency to become assimilated to the Yakuts, the most vigorous
and expansive of all the Siberian peoples, the Tunguses every whei-e
yield before the advance of their more civilized neighbours, or
become absorbed in the surrounding Slav communities. In the
Amur valley the same fate is overtaking the kindred tribes, who
are disappearing before the great waves of Chinese migration from
the soutli and Ryssian encroachments both from the east and west.
In 1880 the Oroches were already reduced to about 260, and the
Tazi to a little over 200. For the philological relations of tb*
Tunguses, see vol. xviii, p. 779.
6Q9
TU N IC AT A
Aicid-
UZ3. ■
Co a-
{icand
Adcid-
uns.
CuTier
Aod
dftTigify.
L&marck.
) .0 and
l:on of
tfans.
Circula
tioo.
Kdv.arda.
Carl
Schmidt
THIS group of animals was formerly regarded as con-
stituting along ^-ith the Polyzoa and the Brackio-
poda the invertebrate class Molluscoidea. It is now known
to be a degenerate branch of the Chordata, and to be more
nearly related to the Vertebraia than to any group of the
hvertebrata
History.'
More than two thousand years ago Aristotle gave a
short account of a Simple Ascidian under the name of
T^thyum. He described the appearance and some 6f the
n-.ore important points in the anatomy of the animal.
From that time onwards to little more than a century ago,
although various forn-S of Ascidians had been briefly de-
scribed by writers on marine zoology, comparatively little
advance was made upon th« knowledge of Aristotle.
Schlosser and Ellis, in a paper containing a description of
Botryllus, published in the Philosophical Transactions of
the Royal Society for 1756, first brought the Compound
Ascidians into notice ; but it was not until the commence--
meet of the 19th century, as a result of the careful ana-
tomical investigations of Cuvier (/) upon the Simple
Ascidians and of Savigny (s) upon the Compound, that
the close relationship between these two group's of the
Tunicata was conclusively demonstrated. Up to 1816,
tha date of publication of Savigny's great wcrfk {s), the
few Compound Ascidians then known had been generally
regarded as AUyonaria or as Sponges ; and, although
many new Simple Ascidians had been described by O. F.
Miiller {4) and others, their internal structure had not
been investigated. Lamarck (j) in 1816, chiefly as the
result of the anatomical discoveries of Savigny and Cuvier,
instituted the class Tunicata, which he placed between the
Radiata and the Vermes in his system of classification.
The Tunicata included at that time, besides the Simple
and the Compound Ascidians, the pelagic forms Pyrosoma,
which had been fir^t made known by P^ron in 1804, and
Salpa, described by Forskil in 1775.
Chamisso in 1820 made the important discovery that
Salpa in its life-history passes through the series of changes
which were afterwards more fully described by Steenstrup
in 1842 as "alternation of generations"; and a few years
later Kuhl and Van Hasselt's investigations upon the same
animal resulted in the discovery of the alternation in the
directions in which the wave of contraction passes along
the heart and in which the blood circulates through the
body. It has since been found that this observation holds
good for all groups of the Tunicata. In 1826 H. Milne-
Edwards and Audouin made a series of observations on
living Compound Ascidians, and amongst other discoveries
they found the free-swimming tailed larva, and traced its
development into the young Ascidian. Milne -Edwards
(s) also founded the group of "Social" Ascidians, now
known as the Clavelinids, and gave a classification of the
Compound Ascidians which was universally accepted for
many years. From the year 1826 onwards a number of
new and remarkable forms were discovered,.as, for instance,
some of the Bolteninx (Macleay), Chelyosoma (Broderip and
Sowerby, and afterwards Eschricht), Oikopleura (Mertens),
Perophora (Lister), Pelonaia (Forbesand Goodsir), Chondra-
iachys and Biplosoma (Denis Macdonald), Biazona (Forbes
and Goodsir), and Rhodosoma, (Ehrenberg, and afterwards
Lacaze-Duthiers).
In 1845 Carl Schmidt {6) first announced the presence
Only the more important works can be mentioned here. For a
mora detailed account of the history of the group and a full biblio-
yapjiy, see (/y) iu the list of works at the end of this article.
in the test of some Ascidians of " tunicine," a substance
very similar to cellulose, and in the following year Lowig
and KoUiker (7) confirmed the discovery and made some
additional observations upon this substance and upon the
structure of the test in general. Huxley (<?), in an im-
portant series of papers published in the Transactions of
the Royal and Linneau Societies of London from 1851 on-
wards, discussed the structure, embryology, and affinities
of the pelagic Tunicates Pyrosoma, Salpa, Doliolum, and
Appendimdaria. These important forms were also investi-
gated about the same time by Gegenbaur, Vogt, H. Miiller,
Krohn, and Leuckart. The most important epoch in the
history of the Tunicata is the date of the publication of
■Kowalevsky's celebrated me'moir upon the development of
a Simple Ascidian (9). The tailed larva had been previously
discovered and investigated by several naturalists — notably
H. Milne-Edwards (j), J. P. van Beneden (10), and Krohn
(//) ; but its minute structure had not been sulBciently
examined, and the meaning of what was known of it had
not been understood. It was reserved for Kowalevsky in
1866 to demonstrate the striking similarity in structure
and in development between the larval Ascidian and the
vertebrate emljryo. He showed that the relations between
the nervous system, the notochord, and the alimentary
canal are inuch the same in the two forms, and have been
brought about by a very similar course of embryonic de-
velopment. This discovery clearly indicated that the
Tunicata are closely allied to Ampkioxus and the Verte-
braia, and that the tailed larva represents the primitive
or ancestral form from which the adult Ascidian has been
evolved by degeneration, and this led naturally to the view
usually accepted at the present day, that the group is a
degenerate side-branch from the lower end of the phylum
Chordata, which includes the Tunicata ( Urochorda), A mphi-
oxus (C ephalochorda), and the Vertebrata. Kowalevsky's
great discovery has since been confirmed and extended to
all other groups of the Tunicata by Kupffer {12), Giard
(/J and /j), and others. Important observations upon
the process of gemmation and the formation of colonies in
various forms of Compound Ascidians have been made by
Krohn, Metschnikofl^, Kowalevsky, Ganin, Giard, Delia
Valle, and others, and have gradually led to the establish-
ment of the general principle, that all the more important
layers of the bud are derived more or less directly froii>
the corresponding regions in the body of the parent.
In 1872 Fol {14) added largely to the knowledge of the
Appendiculariidse, and Giard (/j) to that of the Compound
Ascidians. The latter author described a number of new
forms and remodelled the classification of the group. The
most important additions which have been made to the
Compound Ascidians since Giard's work have been those
described by Von Drasche (16) from the Adriatic and
those discovered by the "Challenger" expedition {17).
The structure and the systematic arrangement of the Simple
Ascidians have been mainly discussed of recent years by
Alder and Hancock {18), Heller (/p), Lacaze-Duthiera
(20), Traustedt (.?/), and Herdman (//, 22). In 1874
Usso2'(.?j) investigated the minute structure of the nervous
system and of the underlying gland, which was first dis-
covered by Hancock, and showed that the gland has a
duct which communicates -with the front of the branchial
sac or pharynx by an aperture in the dorsal (or "olfactory")
tubercle. In an important paper |)ublished in 1880 Julin
(24) drew attention to the similarity in structure and rela-
tions between this gland and the hypophysis cerebri of tire
vertebrate brain, and insisted upon their homologj". He
suggests that they perform a renal function. The Thaliacea
Huxley.
Kowa-
levsky
Tailed
larva
RelatiOD*
ship to
Vert«-
bratei
Kupffer.
Giard, 6:0.
Gemma-
tion.
Fol, to.
Sub-
neural
gland
and
dorsal
luberci,^
610
TUNICATA
Thali-
Beueden
and
Julix
A scidia
uientuta.
ExtL-ma'
charao.
tera.
have of late years been the suhject of several very import-
ant memoirs. The researches of Todaro, Brooks (-^s),
Salensky (.?<i), and others have elucidated the embryology,
the gemmation, and the life-history of the Salpidse ; and
Grobben, Barrois {^7), and more especially Dljanin (^S)
have elaborately worked out the structure and the details
of the complicated life-history of the Doliolidse. Finally,
in an important work published in 1886 on the morpho-
logy of the Timicala, E. van Beneden and Julin (jo) have,
mainly as the result of a close comparison of the embryo-
logy of Ascidians with that of Amphioxvs and other
Chordata, added considerably to our knowledge of the
position and affinities of the Tunicata, and of the exact
relations of their organs to the corresponding parts of the
body in the Vertebraia.
Anatomy.
As a type of the Tunicata, Ascidia mentula, one of the
larger species of the Simple Ascidians, may be taken. This
species is found in most of the. European seas, generally in
-shallow water on a muddy bottom. It has an irregularly
ovate form, and is of a dull grey colour. It is attached to
some foreign object by one end (fig. 1). The opposite end
of the body is usually nar- br
row, and it has a terminal
opening surrounded by eight
rounded lobes. This is the
mouth or branchial aperture,
and it always indicates the
anterior end ' of the animal.
About half-way back from
the anterior end, and on a
rounded projection, is the
atrial or cloacal aperture —
an opening surrounded by
siz lobes — which is always
placed upon the dorsal re-
gion. AVhen the Ascidian
is living and undisturbed,
water is being constantly
drawn in through the
branchial aperture and
passed out through the
atrial. If coloured par-
ticles be placed in the
water near the apertures,
they are seen to be sucked
into the body through the
branchial aperture, and after
a short time some of them
are ejected with consider-
able force through the atrial
aperture. The current of p^^ ^
water passing in is for re- side,
spiratory purposes, and it
also conveys food into the animal. The atrial current is
mainly the water which has been used in respiration, but
It also contains all excretions from the body, and at times
the ova and spermatozoa or the embryos.
Tbe »!t The outer grey fiart of the body, which is attached at
or near its posterior end and penetrated by the two aper-
tures, is the " test." This is a firm gelatinous cuticular
secretion from the outer surface of the ectoderm, which is
d layer of flat cells lining its inner surface. Although at
first produced as a cuticle, the test soon becomes organized
by the migration into it of cells derived from the ectoderm
(see fig. 2). These tost cells may remain- as rounded or
fusiform or stellate cells imbedded in the gelatinous matrix,
to which they are constantly adding by secretions on their
* Some writers use a different uonienclature of regions ; see (77).
Ascidki mtntula from tlie right
at, atrial aperture ; br, biaochiaL
aperture ; (, test. (Ongin-il.)
bloi.
t-rn
Flc. 2. — BiagTammatic section of part of mantle and tesft
of an Ascidian, showing the formation of a vessel and
the structuFe of the test, m, mantle ; c, ectoderm ; (e
lest cell ; £771, matrix; Wc, bladder cell ; SiS*. blood smu*
in mantle being drawn out into test; me, mantle cells;
y, septum of vesseL (From Herdman, Challenger Report.
surfaces ; or they may develop vacuoles in their proto.
plasm, which become larger and fuse to form a huge ovata
clear cavity
(a " bladder
cell "), sur-
rounded by a
delicate film
of protoplasm
and having
the nucleus
still visible at
one point ; or
theymayform
pigment gran-
ules in the pro-
toplasm ; or,
lastly, they
may deposit
carbonate of
lime, so that
one or several
of them together produce a calcareous spicule in the test.
Only the unmodified test cells and the bladder cells are
found in Ascidia vientula. Calcareous spicules are found
chiefly in the Didemnidce, amongst Compound Ascidians ;
but pi.gmented cells may occur in the test of almost all
groups of Tunicata. The matrix in which these structures
are imbedded is usually clear and apparently homogeneous;
but in some cases it becomes finely fibrillated, especially
in the family Cynthiidx. It is this matrix which containr
tunicine. At one point on the left side near the posteriol
end a tube enters the test, and then splits up into a num-
ber of branches, which extend in all directions and finally
terminate in rounded enlargements or bulbs, situated chiefl;
in the outer layer of the
test. These tubes are
known as the "vessels" of
the test, and they contain
blood. Each vessel is
bounded by a layer of ec-
toderm cells lined by con-
nective tis.sue (fig. 3, B),
and is divided into two
tubes by a septum of con-
nective tissue. The septum p,o_ 3 _^^ , vessel'trom the test. B, dia
does not extend into the grammatie transverse section of a ves-
, . ,, J sel. ec, ectoderm; cf, connective tissue,
terminal bulb, and COnse- j, s', the two tubes ;», septum ; tt, ter-
queutly the two tubes com- minai bulb. (Ongmai.)
nnmicate'at their ends (fig. 3, A). The vessels are formed
by an outgrowth of a blood sinus (derived originally from
the blastoca^le of the embryo) from the body wall (mantle)
into the test, the wall of the sinus being formed by con-
nective tissue and pushing out a covering of ectoderm in
front of it (fig. 2, s). The test is turned inwards at the
■branchial and atrial apertures to line two funnel-like tubes.
— the bmnchial siphon leading to the b.anchial sac and the
atrial siphon leading to the atrial or peribranchial cavity.
The body wall, inside the test and the ectoderm, is formed MaOil*
of a layer (the somatic layer of mesoderm) of connective
tissue, inclosing muscle fibres, blood sinuses, and nerves.
This layer (the mantle) has very much the shape of the test
outside it, but at the two apertures it is dravm out to form
the branchial and atrial siphons (fig. 4). In the walls of
these si^jhons the muscle fibres form powerful circular
bands, the sphincter muscles. Throughout the rest of the
mantle the bands of muscle fibres form a rude irregular
network. They are numerous on the right side of the body,
and almost totally absent on the left. The muscles are all
formed of very long fusiform non-striped fibres. The con-
nective tissue of the mantle is chiefly a clear gelatinous
TUNIC ATA
611
,^ end
matrix, containing cells of various shapes ; it is frequently
pigmented and is penetrated by numerous lacunte, in which
the blood Hows. In-
side the mantle, in
all parts of the body,
except along the ven-
tral edge, there is a
cavity, — the atrial or
peribranchial cavity,
— which opens to the
exterior by the atrial
aperture. This cavity
is lined by a layer of
cells derived origin-
ally from the ecto-
derm ' and directly
continuous with that
layer through the
atrial aperture (fig.
5) ; consequently the
mantleiscovered both
externally and inter-
nally by ectodermal
cells.
Bran- The branchial aper-
cbial sac ture (mouth) leads in
and
neigh-
bouring
cavity Flo- 4. — Diagrammatic dissection of ^.Tnentula to
show the anatomy, at, atnal apermre ; 6r,
branchial aperture ; a, anus ; brs, branchial
sac : dt, dorsal lamina ; dt, dorsA) tubercle ;
end, endostyle ; ft, heart ; i, intestine ; m,
mantle ; 717, nerre ganglion ; ce, tesopbagus ;
ceo, (esophageal aperture; or, ovary; pbr,
peribranchial cavity ; r, rectum ; st, stomach ;
(. test ; tn, tentacles ; vd, vas deferens ; ngl,
gubneural gland. (Original.)
to the branchial si-
phon (buccal
organs, or stomodjeum), and
this opens into the
anterior end of a very
large cavity (the bran-
chial sac) which ex-
tends nearly to the
posterior end of the body (see figs. 4 and 5). This branchial
sac is an enlarged and modified pharjmx, and is therefore
properly a part of the ali-
mentary canal. The oeso-
phagus opens from it far
back on the dorsal edge (see
below, p. 612). The wall of
the branchial sac is pierced
by a large number of ver-
tical slits, — the stigmata,
— placed in numerous trans-
verse rows. These slits
place the branchial sac in
communication with the
..-end
Fig. 5.— Diagrainmalic longitudinal (A) and transverse (11) sections through
Ascidia to show the position of the ectodT;u and the relations of the bnvit.
chial and peribranchial cavities. The lettering la the same as for fig. 4. B
represents a section taken along the dotted line A-B in A. (Original.)
peribranchial or atrial cavity, which lies outside it (fig. 5,
B). Between the stigmata the wall of the branchial sac
is traversed by blood-vessels, which are arranged in three
regular series (fig. 6), — (1) the transverse vessel.s, which
run horizontally round the wall and open at their dorsal
and ventral ends into large longitudinal vessels, the dorsal
and ventral sinuses ; (2) the fine longitudinal vessels, which
run vertically between adjacent transverse vessels and open
into them, and which bound the stigmata; and (3) the
internal longitudinal bars, which run vertically in a plane
' According to E. van Beneden and JuUn's recent investigations (jo)
only the outer wall of the atrium is lined with epibKist, the inner wall
being derived from the hypoblast of the primitive branchial sac.
internal to that of the transvoi se and fins longitudinal
vessels. These bars communicate with the transverse
vessels by short side .'' H
branches where they
cross, and at these ^.-
points are prolonged
into the lumen of the
sac in the form of
hollow papillae. The
edges of the stigmata
are richly set with
cilia, which drive the
water from the bran-
chial sac into the
peribranchial ca-
vity, and so cause
the currents that ^.
How in through
the branchial
aperture and
out through the
atrial.
Along its vent-
ral edge the wall
of the branchial
sac is continu-
'^iih-:^fS^y^^^^.,,
Trough
Fio. G—A. Part of branchial sac Of jlscMftaftOm inside-
B. Transverse section of same, tr, transverse vessel ;
cd, connecting duct ; hm, horizontal membrane ; \i,
internal longitudinal bar ; Iv, fine longitudinal vessels;
j>, p", papillae . sj, stigmata. A and Bare drawn iA
different scales. (From Herdman, Challenger Beport.)
0U3 pxternally with the mantle (fig. 5, £), while internally
it is thickened to form two parallel longitudinal folds
bounding a groove, the "endostyle,"hypobranchial groove,
or ventral furrow (figs. 4, 5, end). The endoderm cells
which line the endostyle are greatly enlarged at the
bottom and on parts of the sides of the furrow so as to
form projecting pads, which bear very long cilia. It is
generally supposed that this organ is a gland for the pro-
duction of the mucous secretion which is spread round the
edges of the branchial sac and catches the food particles in
the passing current of water ; but it has recently been
pointed out that there are comparatively few gland cells in
the epithelium of the endostyle, and that it is more prob-
able that this furrow is merely a ciliated path along which
the mucous secretion (produced possibly by the subneural
gland) is conveyed posteriorly along the ventral edge of
the branchial sac. At its anterior end the edges of the
endostyle become continuous with the right and left halves
of the posterior of two circular ciliated ridges, — the peri-
])haryngeal bands, — which run parallel to one another
round the front of the branchial sac. The dorsal ends of
the posterior peripharyngeal band bend posteriorly (en-
closing the epibranchial groove), and then join to form
the anterior end of a fold which runs along the dorsal edge
of the branchial sac as far as the (Esophageal aperture.
This fold is the dorsal lamina (figs. 4, 5, dl).. It probably
serves to direct the stream of food particles entangled in
a string of mucus from the anterior part o£ the dorsal
lamina to the oesophagus. In many Ascidians this organ,
instead of btiug a continuous membranous fold as in A.
mentula, is represented by a scries of elongated triangular
processes — the dorsal laiigucts, — one attached in the dorsal
median line opposite to each transverse vessel of the
branchial sac. The anterior peripharyngeal band is a
complete circular ridge, having no conne.xion with either
the endostyle or the dorsal lamina. In front of it lies the
prebranchial zone, which separates the branchial sac behind
from the branchial siphon in front. The"'prebranchial
zone is bounded anteriorly by a muscular band — the pos-
terior edge of the sphincter muscle, — which bears a circle
of long delicate processes, the tentacles (figs. 4, 7, 8, («)•
These project inwards at right angles so as to form a net-
work across the entrance to the branchial sac. Each
tentacle consists of connective tissue covered with epithe-
Endo-
stylf
Peri.
pharjT*
geal
bands.
I/orsal
lamina.
Dorsal
langwei^
Ten-
tacles
612
T U N I C A T A
Hum (endodcrm), and contains two or more cavities which
are continuous with blood sinuses in the mantle. In the
Subnern dorsal median line near the anterior end of the body, and
al glani imbedded in the mantle on the ventral surface of the nerve
ganglion, there lies a small glandular mass — the subneural
gland — which, as Julin has shown {■14)., there is reason to
regard as the homologue of the hypo-
physis cerebri of the vertebrate brain.
Julin and E. van Beneden have sug-
gested that the function of this organ
may possibly be renal.' The sub-
neural gland, which was first noticed
by Hancock, communicates anteriorly,
as Ussofif (.?j) pointed out, by means
of a narrow duct with the front of
the branchial sac (pharynx). The
opening of the duct is enlarged to
latm a funnel-shaped cavity, which
may be folded upon itself, convoluted, ,
or even broken up into a number of A
Dorsal smaller openings, so as to form a ff
tubercle, complicated projection, called the I,;'
dorsal tubercle, situated in the dorsal tji
p^rt of the prebranchial zone (fig. 7). m
The dorsal, tubercle in A. mentula is
somewhat horse-shoe-shaped (fig. 8) ;
it varies in form in most Ascidians
according to the genus and species,
and in. some cases in the individual
also. Possibly, besides being the fio,
opening of the duct from the sub-
neural gland, it may be a sense-organ
for testing the quality of the water
entering the branchial sac.
Nervous. The single elongated ganglion in
system. tJjg median dorsal line of the mantle
between the branchial and atrial si-
phons is the only nerve-centre in A. ■mentula and most other
Tunicaia. It is the degenerate remains of the anterior
7. — Diagrammatic sec-
tion through auterior dor.
sal part of A. mentula,
showing the relations of
the nerve ganglion, -sob-
neural glantl, &c. Letter-
ing as for fig. 4 ; n, nerve ;
n\ myelon ; ppt peripha.
ryngeal band ; egl, gub^
neural gland ; sgd, its
djict ; C, test lining branch-
Ul siphon. (Original.)
Fio. 8.— Dorsal tuberrle aji'l neighbouring organs of A. merUuIa. Lettering
&3 before-; egr, epibranchial groove ", z, prsbranchial zone. (Original.)
part of the cerebro-spinal nervous system of the tailed
larval Ascidian (see below, p. G14). The posterior or
spinal part has entirely disappeared in most Tunicata.
It pprsists, however, in the Appendicutariidse, and traces of
it are found in some Ascidians (e.g., Clavelina ; see Julin).
The ganglion gives off distributory nerves at both ends,
albo Herdman, Nature: vol. xxviii. p. 284.
which run through the mantle to the neighbourh' I'^d of the Sense
apertures, where they divide and subdivide. The only organs,
sense-organs are the pigment spots between the branchial
and atrial lobes, the tentacles at the base of the branchial
siphon, and possibly the dorsal tubercle and the languets
or dorsal lamina. These are all in a lowly developed con-
dition. The larval Ascidians on the other hand have well-
developed intra-cerebral optic and auditory sense-organs ;
and in some of the pelagic Tunicata otocysts and pigment
spots are found in connexion with the ganglion.
The mouth and the pharynx (branchial sac) have already AiimeBt
been described. The remainder of the alimentary canal "'y
is a bent tube which in A. mentula and most other Ascid-'^'"'
ians lies imbedded in the mantle on the left side of the
body, and projects into the peribranchial cavity. The
oesophagus leaves the branchial .sac in the dorsal middle
line near the posterior end of the dorsal lamina (see fig.
4, oea). It is a short curved tube which leads ventrally
to the large fusiform thick-walled stomach. The intestine
emerges from the ventral end of the stomach, and soon
turns anteriorly, then dorsally, and then posteriorly so as
to form a curve — the intestinal loop — open posteriorly.
The intestine now curves anteriorly again, and from this
point runs nearly straight forward as the rectum, thus com-
pleting a second curve — the .rectal loop — open anteriorly
(see fig. 4). The wall of the intestine is thickened inter-
nally, to form the typhlosole, a pad which runs along its
entire length. The anus opens into the dorsal part of the
peribranchial cavity near to the atrial aperture. The walls
of the stomach are glandular ; and a system of delicate
tubules with dilated ends, which ramifies over the outer wall
of the intestine and communicates with the cavity of the
stomach by means of a duct, is probably a digestive glan(L
A mass of large clear vesicles which occupies the rectal kicre-
loop, and may .extend over the adjacent walls of the in-'"'?
testine, is a renal organ- without a duct. Each vesicle is "^E""*
the modified remains of a part of the primitive ccelom or
body-cavity, and is formed of cells which eliminate nitro-
genous waste matters from the blood circulating in the
neighbouring blood-lacunae and deposit them in the cavity
of the vesicle, where they form a concentrically laminated
concretion of a yellowish or brown colour. These concre-
tions contain uric acid, and in a large Ascidian are very
numerous. The nitrogenous waste products are thus de-
posited and stored tip in the renal vesicles in place of
being excreted from the body. In other Ascidians the
renal organ may differ from the above in its position and
structure ; but in no case has it an excretory duct, unless
the subneural gland is to be regarded as a renal organ.
The heart is an elongated fusiform tube placed on the Blood-
ventral and posterior edge of the stomach, in a space (the vasculu
pericardium) which is part of the original coelom or body- ^y""™
cavity, the rest of which exists merr'y in the form of lacuna; (^on^.
and of the cavities of the reproductive organs and renal
vesicles in the adult Ascidian. The wall of the heart ia
formed of a layer of epithelio-muscular cells, the inner
ends of which are cross-striated ; and waves of contraction
pass along it from end to end, first for a certain number of
beats in one direction and then ia the other, so as to reverse
the course of circulation periodically. At each end the
heart is continued into a vessel (see fig. 9), a large sinua
or lacuna lined with a delicate endothelial layer. The
sinus leaving the ventral end of the heart is called the
branchio-cardiac vessel,'' and the heart itself is merely the
differentiated posterior part of this sinus and is therefore
a ventral vessel. The branchio-cardiac vessel, after giving
off a branch which, along with a corresponding branch from
the cardio-visceral vessel, goes to the test, runs along the
•' On account of the periodic reversal of the circulation dodc of the
vessels caD be called arteries or veins.
T U N I C A T A
613
circula-
tioo.
*>■ —i
ventral edge of the branchial sac externally to the endostyle,
and comrjunioAtes laterally with the ventral ends of all the
transverse vessels of the branchial sac. The sinus leaving
the dorsal end of the heart is called the ciwdio-visceral
vessel, and this, aft-er giving off to the test the braBch-
above mentioned, breaks up into a number of smuses,
which ramify over the alimentary canal and the other
viscera. These visceral lacunce finally communicate with
a third great sinus, the viscero-branchial vessel, which runs
forward along the dorsal edge of the branchial sac exter-
nally to the dorsal lamina and joins the dorsal ends of all
the transverse vessels of the branchial sac. Besides these
three chief systems there are numerous lacunae in all parts
of the body, by means of which anastomoses are estabUshed
between the different currents of blood. All these blood
spaces and lacunas are to be regarded as derived from the
blastocoele of the embryo, and not, as has been usually
CoDre rffeupposed, from the coelom (jo). When the heart contracts
ventro-dorsally, the course of the circulation is as follows :
the blood which is flowing through the vessels of the
branchial sac is collected in an oxygenated condition in
the branchio-cardiac vessel, and, after receiving a stream
of blood from , " » i
the test, en-
ters the
heart. It is
then pro-
pelled from
the dorsal
end of the Fio. 9.— Diagram of circulation in Ascidia. Lettering as be-
VipQrf infr» f^re ; be, branchio-cardiac or ventral vessel; cw, carciio-
aearv into visceral vessels; v&, viscero-branchial or dorsal vessel;
the cardio- "'■ vessels to test (Original.)
visceral vessels, and so reaches the test and digestive and
other organs ; then, after circulating in the visceral lacunae,
it passes into the viscero-branchial vessel in ati impure
condition, and is distributed to the branchial vessels to be
purified again. When the heart on the other hand contracts
dorso-ventrally, this course of circulation is reversed. As
the test receives a branch from each end of the heart, it
follows that it has afferent and efferent vessels which-
ever way the blood is flowing. In some Ascidians the
vessels in the test become very numerous and their end
branches terminate in swollen btdbs close under the outer
surface of the test. In this way an accessory respiratory
organ ' is probably formed ia the superficial layer of the
test. The blood corpuscles are chiefly colourless and
•amoetoid ; but in most if not all Ascidians there are also
soipe pigmented corpuscles in the blood. These are gener-
ally of an Grange or reddish brown tint, but may be opaque
white, dark indigo-blue, or of intermediate colours. Pre-
cisely similarly pigmented cells are found throughout the
connective tissue of the mantle and other parts of the body.
A. mentula is hermaphrodite, and the reproductive organs
lie, with the alimentary canal, on the left side of the body.
The ovary is a ramified gland whioh occupies the greater
part of the intestinal loop (see fig. 4). It contains a cavity
which, along with the cavities of the testis, is derived from
a part of the original coelom, and the ova are formed from
its walls and faU when mature into the cavity. The
oviduct is continuous with the cavity of the ovary and
leads forwards alongside the rectum, finally opening near
the anus into the peribranchial cavity. The testis is com-
posed of a great number of delicate branched tubules,
which ramify over the ovary and the adjacent parts of the
intestinal wall. Those tubules terminate in ovate swell-
ings. Near the commencement of the rectum the larger
tubules unite to form the vas deferens, a tube of consider-
able size, which runs forwards alongside the rectum, and,
like the oviduct, terminates by opening into the peri-
' See Herdman, Nature, vol. xxxi. p. 2-17.
Repro-
ductive
organs.
branchial cavity close to the anus. The lumen of the
tubules of the testis, like the cavity of the ovary, is a part
of the original coelom, and the spermatozoa are formed
from the cells Uning the wall. In some Ascidians repro-
ductive organs axe present on both sides of the body, and
in others (Polycarpa) there are many complete sets of both
male and female systems, attached to the inner surface of
the mantle on both sides of the body and projecting intO'
the peribranchial cavity. -
Embryology' and Life Histoky.
In most Ascidians the eggs are fertilized in the peribranchial Embryo
cavity, and undergo most of their development before leaving the logy,
parent ; in some cases, however, the eggs are laid, and fertilization
takes place in the surrounding water. The segmentation is com-
plete and regular (fig. 10, A) and results in the foimation of a
spherical blastula, which then undergoes invagination (fig. 10, R).
The embryo elongates, and the blastopore or invagination opening
comes to be placed on the dorsal edge near the posterior end (fig.
10, C). The hypoblast cells lining the archenteron aro columnar
in form, while the epiblast cells are more cubical (fig. 10, B, C, D).
The dorsal surface of the embryo now becomes flattened and then
depressed to form a longitudinal groove, extending forwards from
the blastopore to near the front of the body. This "medullary
groove " now becomes converted into a closed canal by its side
walls growing up, arching over, and coalescing in the median dorsal
Fio. 10.— Stages in the embryology of a Simple Ascidian (after Kowalevsky).
A to F. Longitndinal vertical sections of embryos, all placed with the doi*sal
surface uppermost and the anterior end at the right- A. Early blastula
sUge, during segmentation. B. Early gastrula sUge. C. Stage after gas-
trula, showingcommencementof notochord. D. Later stage, show; ig forma-
tion of notochord and of neural canaL E. Embryo blimving body and tail
and completely formed neural canal. F. Larva just hatched; end of tail
cut oir. G. Transverse section of tail of larva,
adp, adhering papillie of larva ; at, epiblastic (atrial) involution ; au, auditory '
organ of lar\'a ; at, arclienteron ; be, blastocoele ; bp, blastopore ; cA, noto-
chord ; ep, epiblast ; hy, hypobuist ; 71c, neural canal ; ncc, neurer.terio
canal ; oc, ocular organ of larva ; g, gelatinous investment of embryo ; m,
muscle cells of tail ; mes, niesenteron ; mc, mesodenn cells ; nt», cerebl-al
vesicle at anterior end of neural caual.
line (fig. 10, D). This union of the laminas ctersales to fonn the
neural canal commences at the posterior end bearjid the blastopore
and gradually extends forwards. Consequently the blastopore
comes to open into the posterior end of the neural canal (fig. 10,
D), while the anterior end of that cavity remains open to th*
exterior. In this way the archenteron communicates indirectly
with the exterior. The short canal leading from the neural canal
to the archenteron is kno^vn as the neurenteric canal (fig. 10,
^ For structure of other forms, see p. 614 sq, below.
' For reproduction by gemmation, see under "Classification,"
614 sq, below.
€14
TUNICATA
D, na). Prerions to this stage BOme of the hypoblast cdls at the
front edge of the blastopore and forming part of the dorsal wall of
the archenteron {fig. 1(3, C, ch) have become separated off, and then
arranged to form an elongated band, two cells wide, underlying
the posterior half of the neural canal (fig. 10, D, E, ch. ). This
is the ori<nn of the notocho«L Outgrowths from the sides of the
archenteron give rise to laterally placed masses of cells, which are
the origin of the mesoblast . These masses show no trace of meta-
meric segmentation. The ca'vities (reproductive and renal vesicles)
which are formed later in the mesoblast represent the ccelom.
Consequently the body-cavity of the Tunieata is a modified form
of enterocoele. The anterior part of the embryo, in front of the
notochord, now becomes enlarged to form the trunk, whUe the
posterior part elongates to form the tail (fig. 10, E). In the trunk
the anterior part of the archenteron dilates to form the mesenteron,
the greater part of which becomes the branchial sac ; at the same
time the anterior part of the neural canal enlarges to form the
cerebral vesicle, and the opening to the exterior at the front end of
the canal now closes. In the tail part of the embryo the neural
canal remains as a narrow tube, while the remains of the wall of the
archenteron — the dorsal part of which becomes the notochord — are
converted into lateral muscle bands (fig. 10, G) and a ventral cord
of cells, which eventually breaks up to form blood corpuscles. As
the tail grows longer, it becomes ^nt round the trunk of the embryo
inside the egg-membrane. About this period the epiblast cells
begin to form the test as a cnticular deposit upon their outer surface.
The test is at first devoid of cells and forms a delicate gelatinous
investment, but it shortly afterwards becomes cellular by the
' migration into it of test cells formed by proliferation from the epi-
blast'
T.ar<w The embryo is hatched about two or three days after fertilization,
«ra^ in the form of a tadpole-like larva, which swims actively through-
the sea by vibrating its long tail. The anterior end of the body
is provided with three adhering papilla (fig. 10, F, adp) in the
form of epiblastic thickenings. In the free-swimming tailed larva
the nervous system, formed from the walls of the nenral canal,
becomes considerably differentiated. The anterior part of the
cerebral vesicle remains thin-walled (fig. 10, F), and two unpaired
sense organs develop from its wall and project into the cavity.
These are a dorsally and posteriorly placed optic organ, provided
with retina, pigment layer, lens, and cornea, and a vcntrally placed
auditory organ, consisting of a large spherical parriaily pigmented
otolith, attached by delicate hair-like processes to the summit of a
hollow erisla aamstica (fig. 10, F, au). The posterior part of the
cerebral vesicle thickens to form a solid ganglionic mass traversed
by a narrow central canaL The wall of the neural canal behind the
cerebral vesicle becomes differentiated into an anterior thicker
region, placed in the posterior part of the trunk and having a
Superficial layer of nerve fibres, and a posterior narrower part which
traverses the tail, lying on the dorsal surface of the notochord, and
gives off several pairs of nerves to the muscles of the tail. Just in
front of the anterior end of the nervous system a dorsal involution
of the epiblast breaks through into the upturned anterior end of
the mesenteron and thus forms the mouth opening. Along the
ventral edge of the mesenteron, which becomes the branchial sac,
the endost)-le is formed as a narrow groove with thickened side
walls. It probably corresponds to the median portion of the thyroid
body of VerUhrata. A curved outgrowth from the posterior end
of the mesenteron forms the alimentary canal (cesophagus, stomach,
and intestine),, which at first ends blindly. An anus is formed
later by the intestine opening into the left of two lateral epiblastic
involutions (the atria), which rapidly become larger and fuse dorsally
to form the peribcanchial cavity. Outgrowths from the wall of the
branchial sac meet these epiblastic involutions and fuse with them
to give rise to the first formed pair of stigmata, which thus come
to open into the peribranchial cavity ; and these alone correspond
to tlie gill clefts of Amphiaats and the Verteirata.
"Sleti.iwor After a shoft free-swimming existence the fully developed tailed
phoku larva fixes itself by its antenor adhering papillae to some foreign
to adoU object, and then undergoes a remarkable series of retrogressive
:foru. changes, which convert it into the adult Ascidian. The tail atro--
phies, until nothing is left but some fatty cells in the posterior
part of the trunk. The adhering papillfe disappear and are replaced
functionally by a growth of the test over neighbouring objects.
The nervous system with its sense organs atrophies until it is re-
duced to the single small ganglion, placed on the dorsal edge of the
pharynx, and a slight nerve cord running for some distance pos-
teriorly (Van Beneden and Julin). Slight changes in the shape
of the body and a further growth and differentiation of the branchial
sac, peribranchial Tcavity, and other organs now produce gradually
the structure found in the adult Ascidian.
The most important points in connexion with this process of
development ana metamorphosis are the following. (1) In the
Ascidian embryo all the more important organs {e.g., notochord,
neural canal, archenteron) are formed in essentially the saine
' Some of the first test cells are also probably derived from the epithelium
.01 the egg follicle.
manner as they are in Amphioxus and other Chordata. (2) Th»
free-swimming tailed larva possesses the essential characters of the
Chordata, inasmuch as it has a longitudinal skeletal axis (the noto-
chord) sepai-ating a dorsally placed nervous system (the neural
canal) from a ventral alimentary canal (the archenteron) ; and
therefore during this period of its life-history the animal belongs
to the Chordata. (3) The Chordate larva is more highly organized
than the adult Ascidian, and therefore the changes by which the
latter is produced from the former may be regarded as a process of
degeneration (j/). The important conclusion drawn from all this
is that the Tunicaia are the degenerate descendants of a group of
the primitive Chordata (see below p. 618).
Classification and Chaeactzbs of Gbotjps.
Order 1.— LARVACEA.
Free-swimming pelagic forms provided with a large locomotory CluiT-
appendage (the tail), in which there is a skeletal axis (the tirochord). acters of
A relatively large test (the " Haus ") is formed with Larcacfa
great rapidity as a secretion from the ectoderm ; it is
merely a temporary structure, which is cast off and
replaced by another. The branchial sac is simply aa
enlarged phamyx with two ventral ciliated openings
(stigmata) leading to the exterior. There is no ^.•
/parate peribranchial cavity. The ner^UHs
system consists of a large dorsally placed
ganglion and a long nerve cordj which
stretches backwards over the alimentary
canal to reach the taU, along which it
runs on the left side of the
urochord. The anus opens
ventrally on the surface of
the body in front of the stig-
mata. No reproduction by
gemmation or metamorphosis
is known in the life-history.
This is one of the most in-
teresting groups of the Tuni-
cala, as it shows more com-
pletely than any of the rest
the characters of the original
ancestral forms. It has un-
dergone little or no degen-
eration, and consequently
corresponds more nearly to
the tailed -larval condition
than to the adult forms of
the other groups. The order
iT,_... includes a single family, the
(after FolX seen from light side, magnified APPEKDICTJLARIID.E, all the
six times. The arrows indicate the course members of which are minute
of the water ; x, lateral reticulated parts of ^^ j f ^^^ . shimming. They
"Haus. occur on the surface of the
sea in most parts of the world. They possess the power to form Stmc-
with great rapidity an enormously large investing gelatinous layer ture of
(fi". 11), which cortesponds to the test of other groups. This was Appm-
Fio. 11.— OiJropIcura tophocerta m
Fto. 12.— Semi-diagrammatic view of Apptndicularia from the right, a, anas^
(U, one of the atrial apertures ; app, tail ; br, brapchial aperture ; hrs, branchiai
sac ; t/(, dorsal tubercle ; end, eDdostjie ; A, heart ; t, intestine ; m, muscle
band of tail ; n, nerve cord in body ; n'. nerve cord in the tail ; cc, cesophagus ;
m, otocyst ; cw, o\-ary ; j)p, peripharyngeal band ; ng, cerebral ganglion ; n/,
caudal ganglion ; ti^, enlargement of nerve cord in tail ; so, sense organ
(tactile) on lower hp ; sg, ciliated aperture in pharynx ; Bt, stomach ; to, testis ;
u, urochord ; tt', Its cat end, (Original.)
first described by Von Mertens aod by him named "Haus." It
is only loosely attached to the boay and is frequently thrown off
soon after its formation. The tail in the Appendiculariidx is at-
tached to the ventral surface of the body (fig. 12), and usually
T U N I C A T A
615
TJuui-
wxa.
Charac-
ters of
Cyelo-
■myaria.
tare of
ium.
points more ,or less anteriorly. It shows distinct traces of ioeta-
meric segmentation, bavins its moscle bands brokea up into myo-
tomes, wnile the nerve cord presents a series of enlargements from
which distribut»ry nerves are given off (fig. 12, n^). Near
the base of the tail there is a distinct elongated ganglion
{fig. 12, ncf). The anterior (cerebral) ganglion has connected
with "it an otocyst, a pigment spot, and a tubular process
opening into the branchial sac and represeuting the" dorsal
tubercle and associated parts of au ordinary Ascldian. The,
branchial aperture or mouth leads into the brancliial sac of *C^
pharynx. There are no tentacles. The endostyle is short.
There is no dorsal lamina, and the peripharyngeal bands run
dorsally and posteriorly. The wall of the branchial sac has *»■ ''
only two ciliated apertures. They are homologous with th«
primary stigmata of the ^pic^ Ascidians and the gill
clefts of Vertebrates. They are placed far back on the ven-
tral enrface, one en each side of the middle line, and lead
into short ftmnel-shnped tubes which open on the surface of s o'
the body behind the anus (fig. 12, al). These tubes corre-
spond to the right and left atrial involutions which, in an
ordinary Ascidian, fuse to form the peribranchial cavity. The
heart, according to Lankester, is formed of two cells, which
are placed at the opposite ends and connected by delicate con- '
tractUo protoplasmic fibrils. The large ovary and testis are placed
at the posterior end of the body. The remainder of the structural
details can be made out from fig. 12.
The family Appmdiculariidse comprises the genera, — OikapUura
(Mertens), and Appsndicularia (Cham.), in both which the body is
short and compact and the tail relatively long, while the endostyle
is straight ; Frilillaria (Q. and G.), in which the body is long and
composed of anterior and posterior regions, the tail relatively short,
the endostyle recurved, and an ectodermal hood is formed over tlie
front of the body ; and Koioalevskia (Fol), a remarkable form de-
scribed by Fol (,t4\ in which the heart, endostyle, and intestine
are said to be absent, whUe the branchial sac is provided with four
rows of ciliated tooth-like processes.
Order II.— THALIACEA.
Free-swimming pel^^c forms which may be either simple or
compound, and the adult of which is never provided with a tail or a
notochord. The test is permanent and may be either well developed
or very slight The musculature of the mantle is m the form of
more or less complete circular bands, by the contraction of which
locomotion is efifected. The brancKial sac has either two large or-
many small aperttires, leading to a single peribranchial cavity, into
which the anus opens. Alternation of generafcons occurs in the life-
history, and may be complicated by polymorphism. The Thaliacea
comprises two groups, Cyclomyana and HemiTnyana.
S ab-order 1. — Cyclomyaria.
Free-swimmmg pelagic forms which exhibit alternation oi genera-
tions in their life-history but never form permanent colonies. The
body is cask-shaped, with the itranchial and atrial apertures at the
opposite ends. The test is more or less well developed. The
mantlerhas its musculature in the form of circular bands surrounding
the body. The branchial sac ia fairly large, occupying the anterior
half or more of the body. Stigmata are usually present in its
posterior part only. The peribranchial cavity is "mainly postenor
to the branchial sac. The alimentary canal is placed ventrally
close to the posterior end of the branchial sac. Hermaphrodite
reproductive organs are placed, ventrally near the intestine.
This group forms one family, the DoLIOLiDfi, including two
genera, Doliolum (Quoy and Gaimard) and Anthinia (C. Vogt).
Doliolumt of which several species ^e known from vanous
seas, has a cask-shaped body, usually from 1 to 2 cm./in length.
The terminal. branchial and tttrial apertures (fig. 13) are lobed,
and the lobes are provided with sense organs. The test is very
slightly developed and contains no ceUs. The mantle has eight or
nine circular muscle bands surrounding the body. The /most
anterior and posterior- of these form the branchial and atrial
sphincters. The wide branchial and atrial apertures lead into
large branchial and peribranchial cav-ities, separated by the pos-
terior wall of the branchial sac, which is pierced by stigmata ; con-
seqncntly there is a free-passage for the water through the body
along iu long axis, and the animal swims by contracting its ring-
lie muscle-bands, so as to force out the contained water posteriorly.
Stigmata may also be found on the lateral walls of the branchial
sac, and in that case there are corresponding anteriorly directed
diverticula of the peribranchial cavity. There is a distinct endo-
style on the ventral edge of the branchial sac and a peripharyngeal
band surrounding its anterior end, but there is no representative
of the dorsal lamina on its dorsal edge. The cesopnagus com-
mences rather on the ventral edge of the posterior end of the
branchial sac, and nms backwards to open into the stomach, which
is followed by a curved intestine opening into the peribranchial
cavity. The alimentary canal as a whole is to the right of the
middlo line. The hermaphrodite reproductive organs are to the
left of the middle line alongside the alimentary canal. They open
into the peribranchial cavity. The ovary is nearly spherical, while
the testis is elongated, and may be continued anteriorly for a long
distance. The heart is placed in the middle line ventrally, be-
Fio^ IS. — D6lU)lwn dentictdatum, sexuAl gecemtlon, ftrom tbe left side. Xjetter-
ing as for fig. 1? ; ml — mS, muscle handa , ng. nerve ganglion ; sg, edgmata ;
tgl, aubneuml gland . pbr, peribninclual cavity ; all, atnal lobes ; so, sense
organs ; hrl, bmnclual lobes. (Original.)
twoen the posterior end of the endostyle and the otsophageal aperture.
The nerve ganglion lies about the middle of the dorsal edge of the
body, and- gives off many nerves. Under it is placed the subncural
gland, the duct of which runs forward and opens into the anterior
end of the branchial sac by a simple aperture, surrounded by the
spirally -twisted dorsal end of the peripharyngeal band (fig. 13, dt).
The. ova of the sexual generation produce tailed larvaa ; these Deveiop-
develop into forms known as "nurses" (blastozooids), which are ment of
asexual, and are characteriaed by the possession of nine muscle Dolio
bands, an auditory sac on the left side of the body, a ventrally- Ivm.
placed stolon near the heart, upon which buds are produced, and
a dorsal outgrowth near the posterior end of the body. The buds
give rise eventually to the sexual generabon, which is polymor-
phous, having three distinct forms, in two of which the reproduc-
rive organs remain undeveloped. The buds while still very young
migrate from their place of origin on the stolon, divide by ijssion,
and become attached to the dorsal outgrowth of the body of the
nurse, where they develop. The three forms produced are as follows.
(1) Nutritive forms (trophozooids), which remain permanently at-
tached to the nurse and serve to provide it with food ; they have
the body elongated dorso- ventrally, and the musculature is very
slightly developed. (2) Foster forms (phorozooids), which," like tho
preceding, do not become sexually mature, but, unlike them, are
set free as cask-shaped bodies with eight muscle bands and a ventral
outgrowth, which is formed of the stalk by which the body was
formerly united to the nurse. On this outgrowth the (3) forms
(gonozooids) which become sexually mature are attached while still
young buds, and after the foster forma are set free these reproductive
forms gradually attain their complete development, and are event-
ually set free and lose all trace of their connexion with the foster
forms. They resemble the foster forms in having a cask-shaped
body with eight muscle bands, but differ in having no -outgrowth
or process, and m having the reproductive organs fully developed.*
Anchinin, of which only one species is known, A. nibra, from Anchiaia,
the Mediterranean, has the sexual forms permaneutly attached
to portions of the dorsal outgrowth" from the body of the unknown
nurse. The body is elongated dorso-ventrally. The test is well
developed and contains branched cells. The musculature is not
so well developed as in Doliolum. There are two circular bands
at the anterior end and two at the posterior, and two on the
middle of the body. The stigmata are confined to the obliquely
placed posterior end of the branchial sac. The alimentary canal
forms a U-shaped curve. The reproductive organs are placed on
the right side of the body. The life-history is still imperfectly
known. As in the case of VolMum the sexual generation is
polymorphous, and has three forms, two of which remain in a
rudimentary condition so far S3 the reproductive organs are con-
cerned. In Anchinia. however, the three forms do not occur to-
gether on one stolon or outgrowth, but are produced successively,
the reproductive forms of the sexual generation being independent
of the " foster forms " (see Barrois, ^
Sub-order 2. — Hemimyaria.
I'Vee-swimming pelagic forms which exhibit alternation of genera- dm*
tions in their life-history and in the sexual condition form colonies, tere of
The body is more or less fusiform, with the long axis antero-posterior, Beva-
and the branchial and atrial apertures nearly terminal. The test myorto.
13 well developed. The musculatuTe of the mantle is in the form
of a series of transversely -running bands, which do not form com-
plete independent rings as in the Oydomyaria. The branchial and
1 For further details see Uljanin(^iy).
616
T U N I C A T' A
pcribrancliial cavities form a contijiupus space in the interior of the
Dody, opening externally by the branchial and atrial apertures, and
traversed obliquely from the dorsal and anterior end to the ventral
and posterior by a long narrow vascular band, which represents the
dorsal lamina, the dorsal b'.ood-vessel, and the neighbouring part
of the dorsal edge of the branchial sac of an ordinary Ascidian.
The alimentary canal is placed ventrally. Itmay either be stretched
oat so as to extend for some distance anteriorly, or — as is more
neual — be concentrated to form along with the reproductive organs
a rounded opaque mass near the posterior end of the body, known
as the visceral mass or "nucleus." The embryonic development
is direct, no tailed larva being formed.
This sub-order contains two very distinct families, the SALPiDa:,
which are the typical members, and theOcTACNEMiD*;, inclnding a
single very remarkable form {Octacnemus byihius), which in some
«spects does not conform with the characters given above,
Salpida. The Salpidm includes the single genus Salpa (Forskif), which,
however, may be divided in to two well-marked groups of species, — (1)
those, such as S. pinnala, in which the alimentary canal is stretched
out along the ventral surface of the body, and (2) those, such as
S.fusiformis (fig. 14, A), in which the aliment-
ary canal forms a compact globular mass, the
** nucleus," near the posterior end of the body.
About fifteen species altogether are known ;
they are all pelagic forms and are found in
nearly all seas. Each species occurs in two
forms — fh» solitary asex-
^^^^'^^ nal {proles solilarvx) and
^^f^\ dt ^^^ aggregated sexual
(^oles gregarUi) — which
are usually quite unlike
one apother. The soli-
tary form (fig. 14, B)
gives rise by internal
||:;"*^ '^gemmation to a complex
■vise tubular stolon, which
contains processes from
all the more important
organs of the parent body
and which becomes seg-
mented into a series of
Fio. \i.-Salpa ninanala-fiisifo"^'^- A- ^^to- ^uda or embryos. As
gated form. B. Solitary form. Lettering as the stolon elongates, the
before ; 1-9, muscle bands ; em, embryo ; gem, embryos near the free
«T»?VS."^,rm,AjLS°?"''°'''"''" «°d which have become
mass (nncleua). (Onginal. j . . t - . .
advanced in their deve-
lopment are set free in groups, which reinain attached together by
processes of the test, each enclosing a diverticulum from the mantle
BO as to form "chains" (fig. 15). k \ j w ,i _
EachmemberofthechainisaSaipa E L^ H v'w/f' '
of the sexual or aggregated form,
and.wheifmature may— either still /_. i'>?viv\llllil////W/ \ — *■""
attached to its neighbours or se-
parated from them (fig. .14, A) —
produce one or several embryos,
which develop into the solitary
Salpa. Thus the two forms alter-
Btnic- nate regularly. The more import-
tore of ant points in the structure of a
Salpa. typical Salpa are shown in fig. 16.
The branchial and atrial apertures
are at opposite ends of the body,
and each leads into a large cavity,
the branchial and pcribranchial Fio. 15. -Posterior pan of solitary
r . \" . t „„™„ni„, form ol Sulfa dmuia-atica-mucrtmala,
sacs, which are in free communica- g^(,^„g a chain of embryos nearly
tion at the sides of the obliquely- ready to be set ftee. gevi, young
ruining dorsal lamina or "gill." aggregated Sa(;i/c forming the chain ;
The telt is weU developed and 1=^^ iongiSI^T" '""' °'
adheres closely to the surface of
the mantle. The muscle bands of the mantle do not completely
B
f ; / 1.2 : J :
encircle the
body. They are
present dorsally
and laterally,
but the major-
ity do not reach
the ventral sur-
face. In jnany
cases neigh-
bouring banils
join in the med-
ian dorsal line, p,g_ is.— Beral^iiagrammatle reprSsenlatlon of SaJpo from
(fig. 14). The left aide, Lettenng as before; cmb. embryo ; m. mantle ;
anterior end of ', Innguct; syif, duct ot subneunil gland; l.ll muscle
«!,« ,lnn,o1 lo bands of mantle ; f, thiekenlng of test over nucleus ; dl.
tnc aorsal la- .|. ^^ bnnchla, (Original.)
mina is pro-
longed to form a prominent tentacular organ, the languet, pro-
jecting into the branchial sac. The nerve ganglion, snbneutal
gland, dorsal lamina, peripharyngeal bands, and endostylo are
placed in the usual positions. A pigment spot and an otocyst
are found in connection ivith the ganglion. The large spaces at
the sides of the dorsal lamina (often called the gill or branchia
of Salpa), by means of which the cavity of the branchial sac is
placed in free communication with the peribranchial cavity, are to
be regarded as gigantic stigmata formed by the suppression of the
lateral walls of the branchial sac. Fig. 16 represents an aggre-
gated or sexual Salpa which was once a member of a chain, since
it shows a testis and a developing embryo. The ova (always few
in number, usually only one) appear at a very early period in the
developing, chain Salpa, while it is still a part of the gemmiparous
stolon in the body of the solitary Salpa. This gave rise to the
view put forward by Brooks {zj}, that the ovary really belongs to
the solitary Salpa, which is therefore a female producing a series
of males by asexual gemmation, and depositing in each of these an
ovum, which will afterwards, when fertilized, develop in the body
of the male into a solitary or female Salpa. This idea would of
course entirely destroy the view that Salpa is an example of altema-
iion of generations. The sexual or chain Salpa, although really
hermaphrodite, is always protogynous ; i.e, , the female elements or
ova are produced at an earlier period than the male organ or testis.
This prevents self-fertilization. The ovum is fertilized by theDevelop-
spermatozoa of an older Salpa belonging to another chain, and ment 't
the embryo is far advanced in its development before the testis is Saipu
formed. At an early period in its development a part of the embryo
becomes separated ofl; along with a part of the wall of the cavity
in which it lies, to form the " placenta," in which the embryonic and
the maternal blood streams circulate in close proximity (or actually
coalesce during one period) and so allow of the passage of nutriment
to the developing embryo. At a somewhat later stage a number of
oells placed at the posterior end of the body alongside the future
nucleus become filled up with oil -globules to form a mass of nutrient
material — the elaeoblast — which is used up later on in the develop-
ment. Many suggestions have been made as to the homology of
the elaeoblast. The most probable is that it is the disappearing
rudiment of the tail found in the larval condition of most Ascidians.
The famOy Oclacnemidse includes the single remarkable form Octa-
OdacTiemus bythius, found during the " Challenger " expedition, UDd-cTumidm.
first described by
Moseley(^9). It is
apparently a deep-
sea representative
of the pelagic Sal-
pjdae, and may pos-
sibly be fixed. The
body is somewhat
discoid, with its
margin prolonged „ „. ^. , , . j ,
»»- r.^U^ ..:T.l.^ fo^ar Fio. 17. — Diagrammatic vertical longitudinal section
to lorm elgDt taper- ^^ Octamemus bvatui (after Moseley). br. branchial
mg processes, on to aperture ; m, opening of cEsophagus ; r, rectum ; at,
which the muscle atrial aperture ; rm.rm, radiating muscles ; n, nucleus;
VianHo nf tha mk, muscles of nucleus; g, respiratory membrane:
oanus ui luo ^ ih,ckeai:i margin of base of test; pa, pedicle of
mantle are con- attachment,
tinned. The ali-
mentary canal forms a compact nucleus (fig. 17) ; the endostyle is
very short ; and the dorsal lamina is apparently absent. The re-
production and life-liistory are entirely unknown.
Order III.— ASCIDIACEA.
Fixed or free-swimming Simple or Compound Ascidians which in Aaddi
the adult are never provided with a tail and have no trace of a iaca.
notochord. The freeswithming forms are colonies, the Simple
Ascidians being always fixed. The test is permanent and well
developed ; as a rule it increases with the age of the individual.
The branchial sac is large and well developed. Its walls are per-
forated by numerous slits (stigmata) opening into the peribranchial
cavity, which communicates with the exterior by the atrial aperture.
Slany of the forms reproduce by gemmation, and in most of them
the sexually -produced embryo develops into a tailed larva.
The Ascidiacea includes three groups, — the Simple Ascidians,
the Compound Ascidians, and the free-swimming colonial Pyrosoma,
Suborder 1.— Ascidia Simplioes.
Fixed Ascidians which are solitary and very rarely reproduce by Slcnp''.;
gemmation : if colonies are formed, the members are not buried in Astr.'-
a.common investing mass, but each has a distinct test of its own. ians
No strict line of demarcation can be drawn between the Simple and
the Compound Ascidians, and one of the families of the former
group, the Clavelinidm (the Social Ascidians), forms a transition
from the typical Simple forms, which never reproduce by gemmation,
to the Compound forms, which always do (see p. 618 below). The
Ascidim Simpliccs may be divided into the following families;—
Family I. — Clavelinidj;. Simple Ascidians which rcp.-odace by
gemmation to form small colonies in wliich each ascidiozooid has
a distinct test, but all are connected by a common blood-system.
(
T U N I C A T A
617
Buds formed on stolons which are vascular outgrowths from the pos-
terior end of the body canijining prolongations from the ectoderm,
mesoderm, and endodertii of tho ascidiozooid. Branchial sac not
folded ; interiKil lontritudinal bars usually absent; stigmata straight;
tentacles simple. This family contains three genera : Ectei}ia.^cidia
(Herdman), with internal longitudinal bars in branchial sac ; Clavel-
ina (Savigny), with intestine extending behind branchial sac ;
and Perophora (AViegmann), with intestine alongside branchial sac.
Family II. — Ascidiidje. Solitary fixed Ascidians with gelatinous
test ; branchial aperture usually eight-lobed, atrial aperture usually
six-lobed. Branchial sac not folded; internal longitudinal bars
usually present ; stigmata straight or curved ; tentacles simple.
This family is divided into three sections : —
Sub-family 1. — Hypob'^'thinje. Branchial sac with no internal
longitudinal bars. One genus, Hypohytkiics (Moseley).
Sub-family 2. — Ascidinj:. Stigmata straight. Many genera, of
which the following are the more important: — Ciona (Fleming),
dorsal languets present; Ascidia (L\r\n?e\i5, == Phallusia, Savigny),
dorsal lamina present (see 6gs. 1 to 10) ; Rhodosoma (Ehrenberg),
anterior part of test modified to form operculum ; Abyssascidia
(Herdman), intestine on right side of branchial sac.
Sub-family 3. — Corellinje. Stigmata curved. Three genera : —
Corella (Alder and Hancock), test gelatinous, body sessile ; Coryn-
ascidia (Herdman), test gelatinous, body pedunculated; Cfulyo-
Simla (Brod. and Sow.), test modified into homy plates.
• Family III. — CYNTHiiD-fL Solitary fixed Ascidians, usually with
leathery test ; branchial and atrial apertures usually both four-lobed.
Branchial sac longitudinally folded ; stigmata straight ; tentacles
simple or compound. This family is divided inta three sections : —
Sub-family 1. — Stvelinje, not more than four folds on each side
of branchial sac ; tentacles simple. The more important genera are
— Slyela (Maclcay), stigmata normal, and Bathyoncus (Herdman),
stigmata absent or modified.
Sub-family 2.— Cynthin-e, more than eight folds in branchial
sac; tentacles compound;
P.
body sessile. The chief
genus is Cijuth ia (Sa
^'igny), with a
number of species.
Sub-family 3. — BoL-
teninj:, more than eight
folds in branchial sac ;
tentacles compound ;
body pedunculated (fig.
18, A). The chief genera
are — Boltenia (Savigny),
branchial aperture four-
lobed, stigmata normal ;
and CiUeohis (Herd- Fio.
man), branchial aper-
ture with less than four
lobes, stigmata absent or
modified (fig. 18. B).
This last is a deep-sea
genus discovered by the
IS. — Culeolus wiUemctsi. A. Entire body,
natural size. B. Part of branchial sac niag-
nifted. at, atrial aperture ; 6r, branchial aper-
ture; ped, peduncle; br/, slight fold of branch-
ial sac ; i I, internal longitudinal bar ; mh, mesh ;
$p, calcareous spicules in vessels ; tr, transverse
vessels. (After Herduian, Challenger Rtport.)
Challenger" expedition (see 77).
Family IV. — MoLGtJLiD-t;. Solitary Ascidians, sometimes not
fixed ; branchial apertxn* six-lobed, atrial four-lobed. Test usually
incnisted with sand. Branchial sac longitudinally folded ; stigmata
more or less curved, usually arranged in spirals; tentacles compound.
The chief genera are — ^folgula (Forbes), with distinct folds in the
branchial sac, and Eugyra (Aid. and Hanc), with no distinct folds,
but merely broad internal longitudinal bars in the branchial sac.
In some of the Molgididse (genus Anurella, Lacaze-Duthiers, 20)
the embryo does not become converted into a tailed larva, the
development being direct, without metamorphosis. The embryo
when hatched assumes gradually the adult structure, and never
shows the features characteristic of larval Ascidians, such as the
urochord and the inedian sense-organs.
Sub-order 2. — ^AscidisQ Compositae.
Com- ^ --?■ Fixed Ascidians which reproduce by gemmation, so as to form
pound colonies in which the ascidiozooids are buried in a common invest-
Ascid- ing mass and have no separate tests. This is probably a somewhat
iaas. artificial assemblage formed of two or three groups of Ascidians
which produce colonies in which the ascidiozooids are so intimately
united that they possess a common test or investing mass. This
is the only character which distinguishes them from the ClavcUnidset
but the property of reproducing by gemmation separates them
from the rest of the Ascidise Simplices. The Ascidias Compositse
may be divided into the following families : —
Family I. — Distomid^. Ascidiozooids divided into two regions,
thorax and abdomen ; testes numerous ; vas deferens not spirally
coiled. The chief genera are — Distoma (Ga,ertneT) ; Dislaplia- (DeWa.
Valle) ; Colella (Herdman), forming a pedunculated colony (see fig.
19, A) in which the ascidiozooids develop incubatory pouches,
connected with the peribranchial cavity, in which the embryos
undergo their development (77) ; and Ch&ndrostachys (Macdonald).
Family 11. — Jcelocormid-i:. Colony not fixed, having a large axial
civity with a terminal aperture. Branchial apertures five-lobed.
This includes one species, Cix:locormus huxhyi (Herdman), which is a
transition form between the ordinary Compound Ascidians {e.g.,
Distomidse) and the Ascidim Salpi/onnt:s {Pyrosoma).
Family III. — Didemnid^ Colony usually thin and incrusting
Test containing stel-
late calcareous spi- /■Y'-'i''*'
cules. Testis single, (rji*i|ij^jj
large ; vas deferens '^■"'-'^^
spirally coiled. The
cniefgeneraare — Di-
demnuni (Savigivy),
in which the colony
is thick and fleshy
and there are only f,o. i9._Colonies of ^scirfiar ComposiVs (natural size),
three rows of Stlg- A. CoUllaquoyi. h. Leptoclinuvi neglecium. C. Pha-
mata on each side of ryngodiclyon mirabUe. D. Botryllus, showing ar-
thtx Kranpliiil ■MP • rangenient of apcidiozooids in circular systems each
rne orancniai sac , of which has a central common cloaca, (After Herd-
and Lcptochnum man, Challenger ii<f2»rf.)
(Milne-Edwards), in -
which the colony is thin and incrusting (fig. 19, B) and there are
four rows of stigmata on each side of the branchial sac.
Family IV. — DiPLOsoMiD^. Test reduced in amount, rarely con*
taining spicules. Vas deferens not spirally coiled. In Diplosorna
(Macdonald), the most important genus, the iarva is gemmiparous,
Fajrily V. — Polyclinidj:. Ascidiozooids divided into three
j»egions, — thorax, abdomen, and post-abdomen. Testes numerous ;
vas deferens not spirally coiled. The chief genera are — PharyngO'
dictyen (Herdman), with stigmata absent or modified, containing
one species, PK. mirahile (fi.g. l9, C), the only Compound Ascidian
known from a depth of 1000 fathoms ; Polyclinum (Savigny), with
a smooth-walled stomach ; ApUdium (Savigny), with the stomach
wall longitudinally folded ; and Aviaroucium (Milne-Edwards), in
which tho ascidiozooid has a long post-abdomen and a largo atrial
languet.
Family VI. — Botryllid^. Ascidiozooids having the intestine
and reproductive organs alongside the branchial sac. Dorsal lamina
present ;■ internal longitudinal bars present in branchial sac. The
chief genera are — Botryllus (Gaertn. and Pall. ), with simple stellate
systems (fig. 19, D), and Botryltoidcs (Milne- Edwards), with
elongated or ramified systems. "
Family VII. — PolystyeliD;!:. ' Ascidiozooids not grouped in
systems. Branchial and atrial apertures four-lobed. Branchial
sac may be folded ; internal longitudinal bars present. The chief
genera are — ThylaciuTn {CoxMi). with ascidiozooids projecting above
general surface of colony ; Gooasiria (Cun-
ningham), with ascidiozooids completely
imbedded in investing mass; and Chorizo-
connxis (Herdman), with ascidiozooids
united in little groups which are connected
by stolons. The last genus contains one
species, Ch. reticulatus, a transition form
between the other Polystydidm and the
Siyclinm amongst Simple Ascidians.
The methods of reproduction by gemma-
tion differ in their details in the various
groups of Compound Ascidians ; but in all
cases the process is. essentially a giving off
from the parent body of groups of cells re-
presenting the ectoderm, the mesoderm,
and the endoderm, which develop into the
corresponding layers of the bud. The first
ascidiozooid of the colony produced by the
tailed larva does not form sexual repro-
ductive organs, but reproduces by gemma-
tion so as to make a colony. Thus there
is alternation of generations in the life-
history. In the most completely formed
colonies (eg'., Botryllus) the ascidiozooids
are arranged in groups (systems or coeno-
bii), and in each system are placed with
their atrial apertures towards one another,
and all communicating with a common
cloacal cavity which opens to the exterior
in the centre of the system (fig. 19 Di).
Sub-order 3. — Ascidise Salpifonnea.
Free-swimming pelagic colonies having ■^'^2^(^M^f^^ ^ Ascidim
the form of a hollow cylinder closed at one ^ ^ v Salpi-
end. The ascidiozooids forming the colony f.jo_ aO—Pj/rosoma ehgansj<^'^-
are imbedded m the common test in such a natural size. A. Side view
manner that the branchial apertures open of entire colony. U. End
on the outer surface and theatrial apertures (OrTRinal ^"^^^ extremity,
on the inner surface next to the central
cavity of the colony. The ascidiozooids are produced by gemmation
from a rudimentary larva (tho cyathozooid) developed sexually.
XXIIL — 78
618
T U N I C A T A
Etnic- This snb-order includes a single family, the Pyrosomidj:, con-
tare o' taining one well -marked genus, Pyrosoma (Peron), with several
Pyro- species. They are found swimming near the surface of the sea,
soma. chiefly in tropical latitudes, and are brilliantly phosphorescent
A fully developed Ptjrosoma colony may be from an inch or two to
upwards of four feet in length. The shape of the colony is seen in
6r. 20. It tapers slightly towards the closed end, which is rounded.
The opening at the opposite f nd is reduced in size by the presence
of a membranous prolongation of the common test (fig. 20, B).
The branchial apertures of the ascidiozooids arc placed upon short
papills projecting from the general surface, and most of the ascidio-
zooids have long conical processes of the test projecting outwards
beyond their branchial ajiertures (figs. 20, 21, and 22). There is
only a single layer of ascidiozooids in the Pyrosoma colony, as all
the fully developed ascidiozooids are placed with their antero-
posterior a-xcs at right angles to the surface and communicate by
their atrial apertures with the central cavity of the colony (fig. 21 ).
cm em ai- ~asc
Fio. 21.— Part of a longitudinal section through wall of Pyrosoma, showing
arrangement of Ascidiozooids, magnified (partly after Savigny). at, atrial
apertures ; K branchial apertures : asc, young ascLdiozooid of a futxu-e colony
prtMluced by budding from cy, cyathozooid : cm, embrj-os in various stages ;
I, test ; tp, processes of test; brs, branchial sac; yas, young ascidiozooid.
Their dorsal surfaces are turned towards the open end of the colony.
The more important points in the structure of the ascidiozooid of
Pyrosoma are shown
in fig. 22. A circle of
tentacles, of which
one, placed Tentrally
(fig. 22, tn), is larger
than the rest, is
found just inside the
branchial aperture.
Trom this point a
wide cavity, with a
few circularly-placed
muscle bands run-
ning round its walls,
leads back to the
large brand. ial sac,
which occupies the
greater part of the
body. The stigmata
are elongated trans-
versely and crossed
by internal longitu-
dinal bars. "The dor-
sal lamina is repre-
sented by a series of
eight languets (I).
The nerve ganglion
(on which is placed
a small pigmented ^ *
sense organ), the-sub-
neura! glaud, the dor-
sal tubercle, th-; peri-
pharyngeal bands,
and the endostyle are
placed in the usual
positions. On each
side of the anterior
end of the branchial
sac, close to the peri-
pharyngeal bands, is
Fic. 52.— M.itnrc .nscidiozooid of PyrxnOTnn, from left
side (partly after Kefi.rstcin). Lettering as before;
em, celluK-ir mass, tlie seat of i>liospliorcscence ;
C<n', posterior cellular mass; ys. geiiimiparous
stolon ; jiitj, muscle band ; nijt, subneuntl gland ;
P'3, pigment spot on ganglion ; tj), process of lest
a mass of rounded gland cells whicli arc the source of the phosphores-
cence. The alimentary canal is placed posteriorly to tlic branchial
$ac, and the anus opens into a large peribranchial (or atrial) cavity,
of wluch only the median posterior i>art is shown (pbr) in fig. 22.
TJ>c j-eproductivc organs arc developed in a dircrticuluti of the jicri-
branchial cavity, and consist of a lobed testis and a s'ngle ovum at
a time. The development takes place in a part of the peribranchial Dcvelop-
cavity (fig. 21, em). The segmentation is meroblastic, and an ment ol
elongated embryo is formed on the surface of a mass of yolk. The Pym-
embryo, after the formation of an alimentary cavity, a tubularamia.
nervous system, and a pair of laterally placed atrial tubes, divides
into an aiiterior and a posterior part. The anterior part then
segments into four pieces, which afterwards develop into the first
asadiozooids of .the colony, while the posterior part remains in a
rudimentary condition, and was called by Huxley the "cyatho-
zooid " ; it eventually atrophies. As the four ascidiozooids increase
in size, they grow round the cyathozooid and soon encircle it (fig. 21,
asc and cy). The cyathozooid absorbs the nourishing yolk u)>on
which it lies, and distributes it to the a.scidiozooids by means of a
heart and system of vessels which have been meanwhile formed.
When the cyathozooid atrophies and is absorbed, its original atrial
aperture remains and deepens to become the central cavity of the
young colony, which now consists of four ascidiozooids placed in a
ring, around where the cyathozooid was, and enveloped in a common
test. The. colony gradually increases by the formation of buds from
these four original ascidiozooids.
Phylooent.
The accompanying diagram shows graphically the probable Phylo-
origin and course of evolution of the various groups of Tu7Licaia, geuy.
and therefore exhibits their relations to one another much more<
correctly than any system of linear classification can do. Tlie
ancestral Proto- Tuniaita are here regarded * as an olfshoot from
iha Proio-Cftcrdata — the common ancestors of the 7\initxUa {Uro-
chorda), Amphioxus {CcphalocUorda), and the Vcrte-
Irata. The ancestral Tutticala were probably free-
swimming forms, not very unlike
'■*.o the existing ApiKndiculariidx, and
% are rejiresented in the life -history
of nearly all
sections of the
Timicala by
the tailed lar-
val stage. The
Larvttcca arc 1
the first off- \
shoot from ■*;
the ancestral
forms which ^^ . ^.
gave rise to *" " "■"■
the two lines of descendants, the Proto- Thaliacca and the Proton
Ascidiacea. The Proto- Thaliacca then split into the ancestors of
the existing Cyclomyaria and Ncmiviyaria. The Proto-Ascidiacca.
gave up their pelagic mode of life and became fixed. This ancestral
process is repeated at tlic present day when the irec;Swimming larva
of the Simple and Compound Ascidians becomes attached. The
Proto- Ascidiacca, after the change, are probably most nearly repre-
sented by the existing genus Clavcltna. They have given rise
directly or indirectly to the various groups of Simple and Com-
pound Ascidians and the Pyroso/n%dst. These groups form two
lines, which ajipear to have diverged close to the position of the
family Clavclinidx. The one line leads to the more typical
Com|Tound Ascidians, and includes the Polyclinidx, Distomidx,
Dtdcmnidx, Diptosornidx, CulocormidSE, and finally the Ascidies
Salpi/ormcs. The second line gave rise to the Simple Ascidians.
and to the BotryUidas and Polyslyclidx. w Inch are, therefore, not
closely allied to the other Compound Ascidians The later Prolo-
Ascidiacca were probably colonial forms, and gemmation was re
tained by the Ciaoclintdx and by the typical Coni]iound Ascidians
{Dislomidx, &c.) derived from them The power of forming
colomes by budding was lost, however, by the pnmitivc Simple
Ascidians, and mifst, thcrelore, have been regained independently
by the ancestral forms of the BolnjUidse and the Pohjstyclidm
If this IS a correct interpretation of the course of evolution of the
Tunicata, we an'ive at the following important conclusions (1;
The Tunicala, as a whole, form a degenerate branch ol the Proio
Chordata ; 2) the Ascidtx Sal/ji/ormcs (Ptjrosoma) are much more
closely related to the lyi)ical Coni[iouJid Ascidians than to the othci
pelagic Tvmaita, viz., the Larvucca and the Tluiliacca , and (3) the
Ascidix CompoMX form a iKilyphylctit pou)). the sections of
which have arisen at several distinct points from the ancestral
Simple Ascidians.
Ihbhogmjhy. — (/) Cu\*ier, "Mfem. s. les Ascidles," 4c., m Hevi. rf. N\t£., vol
il. p. 10. raris, 1813; {^) Savigny, MtmciTCi sur Ics Anivmvz sir/ij i-'crUbra, pt-
ii. fasc. i., Paris. ISlC; ifi I^arnarck, //«(. iVa/. d. Anim. muls Veriehr^s. 1st cd..
Pans, 1815 ;3; U) O. F M.iUer, ZmI Danica. vol. iv., 1S06 ; (;) Miliie-Ed-
\vanls. "Obscrv. s. Ics Ascidies Compnsces," Ac, iu A/rm. Acad .Sci., Paris,
VOL y.v\\\., \b\2', (0) SeliiTinlt. Zur vergl. rhysiol. rf. KirUlloi. Thiere. Biins-
l By Dohm and others their point of origin is placed considerably further
up on tlie -sttMii of the O.t/rilain, thus Causing Uic Tuiiicata to be regarded a»
\try degeueiate Kcrtt^miti (sec J^).
I
T U N — T U N
619
wick. 1S45 ; (7) Lowig and Kollibcr, " De la Compos.. &c., d. Envei. d. Tun.,'
ID Ann. .^- So:., ser. ill. (ZooL). vol. v., 1846 ; {S) Hiutley. PhiL Trans., 1861 ;
(9) Kowaievsky. " EntFickel. d. einf. Ascid.," m Mem. St I'tursb. Acad. Sc,
ser. vu., vol. X., 1S06: (/o) J. P. vao Beneden. " Rech. 8. I'Embryolog.. &c.,
d. A2C. Simp.." 10 Mem. Acad. Roy. Bdg., vol. XX., 1S47 ; (//) Krohn, m Wieg.
mann and MaJIer's^ncAtr. 1S52; Uz) Kupffer. Arch. f. mikr Anal., 1869.
IST^; (/J) Giant, "Etude d. tinv. Embryolog d. Tun , leer in Ard\ ZooL
£ijrr.. /ol. I., 1872; (z^) Fol, "Etudes sur les Appcodiculaires du Detroit de
Messioe." in Mem. Soc Phys. HisL SaL Centre, vol- xxi . {/j) Gtard. " Re-
chejTches s. I. Asc. Comp ," in ArtK, Zool. Erptr., vol. i.. 18T2 . {t6) Von Drasche-
Die Synaseid^en der BucKt von Rorigno, Vienna. 18S3 , (77) Herdraan, " Repoa
Qpoo the Tunwala of the Challenger Expedition." pt i in ZooL Cnatl. Esp.,
VOL VL. 1882; pu ii. in Zoo^. Ckall. Ezp., vol. xiv., 188G . pu in . not yet pub-
"^~' . t/*) AMerand Hancock, mAnn. Mag. A'<u. Hist.. 1863. 1S70 . (/(j) Heller.
I "Untersuch. u. d. Tunic d. Adriat. Meeres." in Denhxhr. d. k. Akad. B'iss.,
I 1875-77 ; (») Lacaze-Duthiera, " Asc Simp. d. COtes d.' 1. Manche." in Arch.
I Zool. Ezyxr., 1S74. 1S77; C^/)Traust«dt, in Vidensk. Mettd. Kalurh. for.,Copen-
i hagen, 1881-84; (;j) Herdinan, "Notes on British Tunicata, Ac," in Joum.
I Linn. Soc., ZooL, vol. xv . 1S80; {^s) Ussoff, m Proc. Imp. Soc SaL HisL,
> Moscow, vol. xviii.. 1876 ; (^.j) Julin. " Rech. a. TOrg. d. Asc Simp.," in
i Arch. d. BwL, VOL it.. Ib81 ; (.y) Brooks, "Development of Salpa," in Bull.
Mui. Comp. ZooL. Harvard, vol. iii. p. 291 ; (^6>Salensky, ZUchr. /. vnss. Zool.,
1877; (^7) Barrois, Journ. d. tAnoL el Phys., voL xxi., 1885; {sSi Uljanin,
fauna, &c d. Golfts von tieapd, voL I., 1884; (2ci) Moseley. "On Deep-Sea
A.scid.." in Trana. Linn. Soc, ser. ii., voL i.. 1876. (jo) E. van Beneden and
Juhn, " Morph. d. Tuntciers," in jlrcA. d. Biol., vol. vi . 1&S6 . (j/) Lankestei.
DegenKT^iutu (Nature senes), London, 1880; IJ2} Dohm. "Stud. z. Urgesch!
I d. Wirbclti.. ' in ifiJIA. ZooL Slat. NcapeL (W a. HE.)
TUNTXG FORK, a small bar of cast tool steel with
tolerably defined edges, bent into a fork with two prongs.
A handle of the same metal extending from the bend of
the fork serves as a sound-post to transmit the vibrations
of the fork to any resonance board or body convenient for
reinforcing the sound The fork is set in vibration by
striking one of the prongs against any hard substance, by
pressing the prongs together if the fork is a light one, or,
if It IS large, by drawing a double bass bow across one of
^he prongs. The larger forks are sometimes made with a
worm upon the handle in order that they may be screwed
into a resonance box, the dimensions of w hich should agree
wnth the pilch of the fork. The ordinary use of a tuning
fork IS to serve as a pilch carrier or standard, for which it
IS particularly suited owing to the permanence with which
It maintains the pitch to which it may be tuned. It is
flattened by heat and sharpened by cold about I vibration
in 20,000 for every degree Fahr., so that the exact pitch
always depends upon the temperature. A tuning fork is
tuned by filing the ends of the prongs or between them
near the ends to make it sharper, or by filing between
them near or at the bend to make it flatter. Less filing
IS required to flatten than to sharpen. It should be allowed
to rest after tuning, on account of the disturbance of the
molecular structure by the filing, and after a few days
should be compared again with the pitch required, and
corrected. The tuning fork is also of value in certain
physical investigations, from the constancy of its rate of
vibration. In England it is generally tuned to C in the
treble clef, because organ-builders start their tuning from
that note ; in France it is tuned to A in the treble clef,
which IS the note of the third open string of the violin.
The French diapason normal is tuned to A at 15° C. ( = 59°
Fahr.) and is fixed at 435 double vibrations in a second.
The inventor of the tunmg fork was John Shore, royal
trumpeter in 1711, sergeant trumpeter at the entry of
George I. in 1714, and lutanist to the chapel royal in 1715.
According to Chladni, whose analysis of the tuning fork has been
generally accepted, it has two nodes or points of least vibration at
the bend, with a ventral or vibrating loop between, by which its i
vibrations are transmitted to the handle. That this is not the case r
has been shown by Mr W. F. Stanley.' The fundamental note i
appears to be an octave below the note which tlie ear recognizes as '
the pitch of the fork. Helmholtz, Tjiidall, and others accept the |
latter as the fundamental, and Helmholtz expressly says that each
jirong may be regarded as an elastic rod fi.xed at one end.* The fork
Ls really a bent .elastic rod vibrating at both ends, with a node at
the bend, through which, and in the same way as with the bridge
of any stringed instrumeiil, the vibrations are conducted. As well
as ths second partial, tke third and fourth are m large forks fre-
quently distinguishable, but such partials above the octave are very
>veak. In adilition to the lower harmonic partials it is generally
easy to produce with a blow a very high inharmonic tinkle or
ringing metallic note, that will continue to sound for some time
without blending with the true note- of the fork. The precise
interval vanes, but is usually two octaves and between a flat 6fth
and a major sixth above the recognized pitch of the fork. With
ordinary tuning forks this tinkling note is to be found amongst
the highest treble notes of the pianoforte Theorists give other
inharmonic proper tones in due ascending order ; they are derived
from c.Mculation on the assumption" that thc^ proceed as the squares
of the odd numbers, but are beyond practical verification owing to
' AatuTc, vol. xxvi. pp. 1G6, 243.
' Scasalivns of Tone ; Eng. transl. by A. J. Ellis, 2d ed., 1885. p. 70. i
their extreme position in the scale of musical sounds and th:: vana-
tioD of power in different ears to distinguish them.
The tuning fork was used by Scheibler (1777-1837) as the easiest
means for correctly determining the pitch numbers of vibrations.
To make a Scheibler tonometer, take a fork in which the octave
can be easily heard and intercalate as many forks as, giving count-
able beats with each other, will fill up the octave. The addition
of the whole number of beats and their fractions id the octave w»ll
be the vibrating number, in double vibrations per second, of the
lower fork. In order to measure the fractions of vibi-ations accu-
rately forks should be chosen that are audible for 40. or at least
20 seconds For instance, 60 beats counted in 20 seconds wouJd
be 3 a second, and 65 in the same time 3"25. The forks should
remain for three months after filing before their differences are finally
determined, and the whole eitamination should be conducted in a
known, uniform temperature. Scheibler considered four beats a
second between two forks a good number for counting ; but Mr A.
J. Ellis, who has used Scheibler's invention as a basis for an exhaust-
ive histoncal s*-^ement of musical pitch^ and as the novel and
exact means fo; determining the non-harmonic musical scales of
various nations, especially Eastern nations,* considers _three beats a
second the best counting number. This would increase the number
of intermediate forks.
Attempts have been made to use tuning forks instead of strings
for key-board instruments, the object being to obtain permanence
of tuning with the soft, unexciting quality of tone furnished by the
fork. The inventions of Clagget, London, 1788, of Riffelsen (the
melodikon), Copenhagen, 1803, and of Schuster (the adiaphonou),
Vienna, 1819, were of this nature. The latest adap'ation of a key-
board to tuning forks has beeu effected by llr JIachell of Glasgow ;
It was shown at the Inventions Exhibition, South Kensington,
London, 1885.
TUNIS, Regency of, formerly one of the Barbary states Plate V-
of north Africa, but since 1881 a dependency of France,
whose resident-general exercises all real authority in the
nominal dominions of the bey. Is bounded on the west by
Algeria, on the north by the western basin of the Mediter-
ranean, on the east from Cape Bon to the Gulf of Gabes
(Kiibis) by the eastern basm of the same sea, and on the
south-east by the province of Tripoli. On the south the
boundary is the Sahara and the frontier line is indefinite.
The greatest breadth from east to west is about 150 miles,
the length from north to south about 300 miles. The
pojmlation does not exceed a million and a half.
Physical Features. — Tunis is formed by the prolongation
towards the east of the two great mountain chains of
Algekia (J.f. ), and closely resembles that country in its
physical features, products, and climate ; see \rEiCA, voh
i. p. 265. The northern Algerian chain (the Little Atlas)
is prolonged through Tunis to Ras Sldi 'All al-Makkl, thft
highest summits never attaining an altitude of 4000 feet.
It forms a picturesque, fertile, and well-watered region^
with extensive cork woods in its western parts, and sepa-
rated from the southern mountains by the valley (the ancient
Zeugitana) of the Mejerda (the ancient Bagradas), the most
important river of north Africa, which after a tortuous-
course of nearly 300 miles falls into the Gulf of Tunis at
Porto Farina. The basin of the Mejerda, which is now tra-
versed by the railway from Algiers to Tunis, is very fertile,
and many important ruins testify to its prosperity in Romai»
times. The rich lacustrine deposits in the Dikhila, or plain
of Bulla Regia, show that it was only in relatively recent
times that its upper waters found a passage to the sea by
•^ " On tlie H'story of Musical Pitch," m Journ. Hoc. of AtIs, 5lU
March and 2d April ISSO ; see also 7th January 1881^
■• "On Musical Scales," liirf., 27lli March ami 30th October 1SS5.
€20
TUNIS
cutting a deep gorge through tne cretaceous barrier tnat
ihuts in this upland plain upon the east. The southern
wall of the Mejerda valley and of the Gulf of Tunis is
formed by a branch of the southern Algerian chain, con-
nected with Jebel AurAs (Mount Aurte) by the plateau of
Tebessa (Theveste) and running north-east to Cape Bon.
Its highest summits (Zilk and Zaghwin) rise above 5000
feet. Another branch of the southern chain runs from the
Sahara side of Mount Aures south-east towards the head
of the Lesser Syrtis or Gulf of Gabes. Between these two
branches lies a mountainous plateau, whose waters descend
■eastward but do not reach the sea. Arrested by a line of
hills running parallel to the coast, they form a chain of
lakes and marshes, which for the most part dry up in
summer. It is to this region of inland drainage (the
ancient Byzacene) that the plain of Kairwan belongs.
Its southern part from Sbeitla (Sobaitala) to the Syrtis is
relatively sterile, and even in antiquity appears to have
formed an exception to the general fertility of the country,
which was one of the granaries of Rome. The upland
district from Tebessa southward sinks into the desert by
A step-like series of great plateaus, separated by rugged
walls of variegated marls, sands, and alluvium, torn into
fantastic shapes, and scored with deep ravines by streams
which at some remote period of copious rainfall poured
down into the Sahara. Farther east the plateaus disappear
and the mountains rise like a rampart from the SibAkh
(sing. Sebkka), or Sahainn marshes and salt-flats. The
depression to which the SibAkh belong terminates to the
■east in the Shott (Shalt) al-Jerid, which is separated from
the Lesser Syrtis only by a narrow isthmus ; see S.^har.\,
vol. XXI. p. 151. Even the Sahara of Tunis abounds in
fertile oases.
Climate. — The mean annual temperature at Siisa is 75° Fahr.,
the mean of the winter or rainy season 60° and of the hot season
57°. At Tunis the temperature rarely exceeds 90°, except with a
\rind from the Sahara. The prevailing winds from May to Sep-
tember are east and north-east and diirin* the rest of the year north-
west and east A rainy season of about two months usually begins
■in January ; the spring season of verdure is over in May ; summer
-ends in October with the firit rains. Violent winds are common
at both equinoxes-
Flora and Fauna. — Both are generally the same as those of
Algeria iq.v.). The lion and panther are almost extinct, but tlie
sportsman finds in abundance the wild boar, partridge, Carthage
fowl, quail, and snipe. The African moufflon still exists in the
southern mountains. Herds of buffaloes are found in the district
-of Mater. The stag occurs in the eastern districts, ffhe camel,
now so important, was hardly known here before the Roman
sovereignty. Red muUet, tunny, and other fish aboui^ around
the coast ; and fishing stations are numerous. The town of Rizerta
-and the Kerkenna Islands are mainly dependent on their fisheries.
The coral and sponge fisheries, of which Sfax and the island of Jerba
(Djerba) are centres, are also considerable. Of noxious creatures
may be named the scorpion, much more formidable than that of
Algiers, a venomous tree snake {Echis car^nata), in the sandy lands
between Kafsa and Sfax, and a species of 'python called iajucrga,
which infests some parts of the southern mountains.
Cork and " zen " trees cover about 360,000 acres towards the
Algerian frontier, and the pine and deciduous oak almost as large
-an area south of the Jlejerda ; but the country is much less wooded
than in antiquity. The richness of the grain crcps is still remark-
able, in spite of imperfect cultivation. Olives and many excellent
fruits are largely produced, and vineyards have been much extended
since the French occupation. Esparto grasd abounds in the uplands.
The oases of the Jcrid are devoted to the date palm and produce the
best dates known in the European market.
Minerals. — The mineral wealth of Tunis, like that of Algeria,
is considerable, but it has been imperfectly explored. Tho iron
mines of the northern mountains and the argentiferous lead mines
of Al-Resas near Tunis were worked in antiquity, as were also the
marble quarries of Simittu (Chemtou), on the upper Mejerda, which
•are now in the hands of a Belgian company. The thermal springs
of Hamm4m al-Anf on the Bay of Tunis are supposed to have heal-
ing virtues ; they are now connected with the capital by rail. '
InJiaiilanta. — Tho industrious Berbers (Kabyles), the oldest stock
in the country, are less sharply marked off from the Arabs than in
Algoria, but are distinguishable by their lighter complexion and
■often fair hair. They form a large part of the population in the
nortnern ana eastern mountains, ana m tne island of Jerba
(Jirba). They are organized in tribes with purely democratic self-
government, and laws of their own, which are not those of the
Koran. The pastoral Arab nomads are descended from the second
Arab invasion, which began in the 11th century (see below). They
have little agriculture and are still as indolent and unruly as their
ancestors. The Arabs of the towns are usually known as Moors;
among them the Spanish Moors, descendants of the Andalusian
refugees, form an exclusive and aristocratic class. The pure Turks
and tlie Kuluglis (sons of Turkish fathers by Moorish women or
slave girls) are no longer numerous. Of Europeans there are some
10,000 Italians. SOOO Maltese, and 4000 French (exclusive of tho
army). The Jews luimber some 50,000, of whom perhaps half are in
the capital. The trade of the country is largely in their hands.^
Towns. — For the capital Tunis, see below. Of the coast towns
Sf.vx and Susa have separate notices ; Bizerta (Benzert), the ancient
Hippo Zarytus, is tlie chief place on the north coast, with 5000 in-
habitants. It stands on a canal connecting the sea with a lake
wliicli might easily be converted into a magnificent land-locked
Viarbour. On the east coast are Hammamet (Hamamat), with 3700
inhabitants ; Monastir, with 5600 . .habitants and a trade in cereals
and oils ; Mahdiya (.Mehcdia), with 6300 inhabitants, the fallen
city of the Fatiinites, wliicli since the French occupation has begun
to rise again, and has a new harbour ; and Gabes (Kabis) on the
SjTtis, a group of small villages, with an aggregate population of
14,000, the port of the shott country and a depot of the esparto
trade. Of the inland towns the holy city of Kairwan {q.v.) is the
n'lost remarkable. Its fine mosques are now open to visiters.
Sbeitla (Lat. Sufetula), in the mountains south-west of Kairwan,
is remarkable for its magnificent Roman remains, the triumphal
arch of Constantine, and the three temples which form the hkron.
The principal towns of the Jlejerda basin arc Bedj^ (Baja), the
ancient Vaga, an important corn market, and higher up, near the
border, the fortress of Kef (Sicca Veneria), with 4000 inhabitants,
boldly perched on the steep slope of a volcanic mountain.
Commerce, — The total imports of the regency in 1885 were valued
at £1,093,047, of which about 27 per cent were British goods, chiefly
cotton fabrics. In 1>SS4 the imports were valued at £1,157,18^
The most important export is olive oil, and after it come wheat,
esparto grass, barley, sponges. The value of the total exports in
1SS4 was £745,554," and in 1885 £882,946. In 1885 1,035 vessels
(71,133 tons) entered the port of Goletta, and tlie entries at other
ports were 3033 (55,050 tons). \
History.— The history of Tunis begins for ns with the establish-
meut of the Phcenician colonies ; see vol. xviii. p. 806, Phcfnicia
and Cakthage. The Punic settlers Semitized the coast, but left
the Bcrbersof the interior almost untouched. The Romans entered
into the heritage of the Carthaginians and of the vassal kings of
Nuraidia, and Punic speech and civilization gave way to Latin, a
change which from the time of Cresar was helped on by Italian
colonization. ,Rich in corn, in herds, and in later times also in
oil, and possessing valuable fisheries, mines, and quarries, the
province of Africa, of which Tunis was the most important part,
attained under the empire a prosperity to which Roman remains in
all parts of the country still bear witness. Carthage was the second
city of the Latin part of the empire, "after Rome the busiest .ind
pciha]is the most corrupt city of the West, and the chief centre of
Latin (ultire and letters." In the early history of Latin Christ-
iaiuiy Afiica holds a more important place than Italy. It was
heie that Christian Latin literature took its rise, and to this pronnce
belong the names of TertuUian and Cj-prian, of Arnobius and
Lactantius, above all of Augustine. Lost to Rum3 by the invasion
of the Vandals, who took Carthage in 439, the province was re-
covered by Belisarius a century later (533-4), and remained Romaa
till the~Aiab invasion, for which see vol. xvi. p. 567. The cob,
queror 'Okba founded the city of Kairwan (c. 670), which was the
residence of the governors of Africa under the Omayyads and there-
after the capital of the Aghlabitc princes, the conquerors of Sicily,
who ruled in merely nominal dependence on the 'Abbasids (see voL
xvi. p. 579).
The Latin clement in Africa and the Christian faith disappeared
in a single generation ; the Berbers of the mountains, who had
never been Latinized and never really Christianized, accepted Islam
without difficulty, but showed their stubborn nationality, not only
in the character of their Mohammedanism, which has always been
mixed up with the worship of living as well as dead saints (mara-
bouts) and other peculiarities, but also in political movements.
The empire of the Fatimites (see vol. xvi. p. 587) rested on Berber
support, and from that time forth till the advent of the Turks the
dynasties of north .\fricawere really native, even when they claimed
descent from some illustrious Arab stock. When the seat of the
Fatimite empire was removed to Egypt, the Zirites, a house of the
Sanhaja Berbers, ruled as their lieutenants at Mahdiya, and about
lO.'iO Mo'izz the Zirite, in connexion with a religious movemea*
against the Slii'ites. transferred his very nominal allegiance to the
Abbasid caliphs. The Fatimites in revenge let loose upon Afrka
a vast horde of Bedouins from Upper Egypt (B. Hjlal and Solaim),
TUNIS
621
the ancestois of the modern nomads ofBarbary. All Africa s-as
ravaged by the invaders, who, though unable to found an empire or
overthrow the settled government in the towns, forced the agricul-
tural Berbers into the mountains, and, retaining from generation
to generation their lawless and predatory habits, have ever since
made order and prosperity almost impossible in the open parts of
the country. The Zirite dynasty was finally extinguished by
Roger 1. of Sicily, who took Mahdiya in 1148 and established his
authority over all the Tunisian coast Even Moslem historians
speak favourably of the Norman rule in Africa ; but it was brought
to an early end Dy the Almohade caliph 'Abd al-Mu'min, who took
Slahdiya in 1 160. The Almohade empire soon began to decay, and
in 1336 Abu Zakariya, prince of Tunis, was able to proclaim himself
independent and found a dynasty, which subsisted till the advent
of the Turks. The Hafsites (so called from Abii Hafs, the ancestor
of Abii Zakariya, a Berber chieftain who had been one of the intimate
disciples of the Almohade mahdi) assumed the title of Prince of the
Faithful, a dignity which was acknowledged even at Mecca, when
in the daj-s of Mostansir, the second Halsite, the fall of Baghdad left
Islam without a titular head. In its best days the empire of the
Hafsites extended from Tlemcen to Tripoli and they received homage
from the ilerinids of Fez ; they held their own against repeated
Frankish invasions, of which the most notable were that which cost
St Louis of France his life (1270) and that of the duke of Bourbon
(1390), when English troops took part in the unsuccessful siege of
Mahdiya. They adorned Tunis with mosques, schools, and other
institutions, favoured letters, and in general appear to have risen
above the usual level of Moslem sovereigns. But their rule was
troubled by continual wars and insurrections ; the support of the
Bedouin Arabs was imperfectly secured by pensions, which formed
a heavy burden on the finances of the state ;' and in later times the
dynasty was weakened by family dissensions. Leo Africanus,
writing early in the 16th century, gives a favourable picture of the
"great city " of Tunis, which had a flourishing manufacture of fine
cloth, a prosperous colony of Christian traders, and, including the
suburbs, nine or ten thousand hearths ; but lie speaks also of the
decay of once flourishing provincial towns, and especially of agri-
culture, the greater part of the open country lying waste for fear
of the Arab marauders. Taxation was heavy, and tlie revenue very
considerable : Don John of Austria in a report to Philip II. states
that the land revenue alone under the last Hafsite was 375,935
ducats, but of this a great part went in pensions to the Arabs.
The conquest of Algiers by the Turks gave a dangerous
neighbour to Tunis, and after the death of Mohammed the
Hafsite in 1525 a disputed succession supplied Khair al-Din
Barbarossa with a pretext for occupying the city in the name of
the sultan of Constantinople. Al-Hasan, the son of Mohammed,
sought help from the emperor, and was restored in 1535 as a
Spanish vassal, by a force which Charles V. commanded in person,
while Andrea Doria was admiral of the fleet But the conquest
was far from complete, and was never consolidated. The Spaniards
reinained at Goletta and made' it a strong fortress ; but the in.
terior was a prey to anarchy and civil war, until in 1570 'AH
Pasha of Algiers utterly defeated H.imid, the son and successor of
Hasan, and occupied Tunis. In 1573 the Turks again retreated
on the approach of Don John, who had dreams of making himself
king of Tunis ; but this success was not followed up, and in the
next year Sultan Selira II. sent a strong expedition, which drove
the Spaniards from Tunis and Goletta, and reduced the country to
t Turkish province. The civil administration was now placed
under a pasha ; but in a few years a military revolution transferred
the supreme power to a dey elected by the janissaries, who formed
the army of occupation. The government of the deys lasted till
1705, but was soon "narrowed or overshadowed by the authority of
the beys, whose proper function was to manage the tribes and
collect tribute. From 1631 to 1702 the office of bey was hereditary
In the descendants of .Murad, a Corsican renegade, and their rivalry
with the deys and internal dissensions kept the country in con-
stant disorder. Ibraln'm, the last of the deys (1702-1705),
destroyed the house of Murid and absorbed the bevship in his own
oflSce ; but, when he fell in battle with the Algerians, Hosain b.
'All, the son of a Greek renegade, was proclaimed sovereign by the
troops under the title of "bey," and, being a priuce of energy and
ibaity, was able to establish the hereditary sovereignty, "which
has lasted without change of dynasty to the present time.
Frequent wars mth Algiers, which need not detain us, form the
jhief incidents in the internal history of Tunis under the beys.
Under deys and beys alike Tunis was essentially a pirate state.
Occasional acts of chastisement, of which the bombaidment of
Porto Farina by Blake in 1655 was the most notable, and repeated
treaties, extorted by European powers, checked from time to time,
""t n^^'cr put an end to, the habitual piracies, on which indeed the
public revenue of Tunis w,as mainly dependent. The powers were
,. '..^ ^^^ ■'2"' ^il H'h centuries the Hafsites also paid tribute to
oicily for the freedom of the sea and the right to import Sic-Uian com,
—a clear proof of the decline of Tunisian agriculture.
generally less concerned for the captives than for the aconisition.
of trading privileges, and the beys took advantage of th': coyi-
mercial rivalry of England and France to play off the one [Kjwer
against the other. The release of all Christian slaves was not
effected till after the bombardment of Algiers ; and the definite
abandonment of piracy may be dated from the presentati a to the
bey in 1819 of a collective note of the powers assembled at Aie-la-
Chap^lle. The Government had not elasticity enough to adapt
itself to so profound a change in its ancient traditions ; the fiLaiices
became more and more hopelessly embarrassed, in spite of ruinous
taxation ; and attempts at European innovations iu the court and
army made matters only worse, so long as no attempt was made to
improve the internal condition of the country. In the third
quarter of the 19th century not more than a tenth part of the
fertile land was under cultivation, and the yearly charge on the
public debt exceeded the whole annual revenue. In these circum-
stances only the rivalry of the European powers that had interests
in Tunis protracted from year to year the inevitable revolution.
The French had long regarded the dominions of the bey as their
natural inheritance, and in 1881, having got a grievance against
the bey in a commercial transaction of the French African Society,
with the execution of which he had interfered (the aHair of the
Enfida estate), a -French force crossed the Algerian frontier under
pretext of chastising the independent Kroumir or Khomair tribes
in the north-east of the regency, and, "quickly dropping the mask,
advanced on the capital and compelled the bey to accept the French
protectoiate*. The actual conquest of the country was not efiected
without a serious struggle with Moslem fanaticism ; but all Tunis
was brought completely under French jurisdiction and administra-
tion, supported by military posts at every important point. The
power of the bey is null arid his dignity merely nominal, — a fact
acknowledged by Great Britain by the surrender in 1883 of Her
Majesty's consular jurisdiction in the regency.
LittratUTt. — Of Arabic sources accessible in translations the geographical
works of Ya'kubi (Descripfio a^ Magribi, by De G<jeje, Leyden, 1860), Al-Bakil
(Descr. de I'Afriqitz septentr.^ by De Slane, Paris, 1859 ; Arabic text, ibid., 18o7),
and Edrisi (Descr. de VJfrique, &c., by Dozy and De Goeje, Leyden, 1866) belong
to the 10th, 11th, and 12th centuries respectively ; the history of Ibn KJialdiin
(Hist. d£s- Bcrhires, by De Slane, 4 vols,, Algiers, 1852-56) includes the earlier
Hafsites. that of Al-Kairawani {Hist, de VAfrique, by Pellissier and R^musat,
Paris, 1S45, tn Expl. Scient. de VAlgerie, vol. vii.; Arabic text, Tunis, 12S6 a. 3.)
deals especially with Tunis, and goes dow-n to 16S1. The geography of Tunis
is treated by E. Pellissier t£jJ>for. Scient. de VAlgerie, vol. xvi., Paris, 1853),
C. Tissot (Geog. Comparee de la Province Romaine d'Afrique, vol. i., Paris, 1SS4I,
and Piesse {lUnh-aire de VAlgerie, &c., newed., Paris, 1887), and in Murray^
lland'mk, by Sir R. Playfair (1887), who has also published Travels in the Foot-
steps of Bruce in Alg. ajid TunisCLondon, 1SS7). A French survey i.-? in progress;
and some of the maps are published. For the modem history, see Eousseau,
Annales Tunisienn^s (Algiers, 1864), and Broadley, Tunis Past and Present
(Edinburgh, 1882) ; for the archaeology, Davis, Carthage and her Remains (Lon-
don, 1860), Gueriu, royage ArcMologique (1862), and D'Herisson, Mission ArchM.
en Tunisie (Paris, 1881). The excellent description of Africa by Leo Africanus
is in Ramusio and Purchas. Shaw's Travels (1738) may still be consulted. Of
other books of travels Maltzan's Reise (Leipsic, 1870) deserves mention.
TUNIS, capital of the regency of the same name, in
36° 50' N. lat. and 10° 12' E. long., is situated on an
isthmus between two salt lakes, a marshy sebkha to the
south-west and the shallow Boheira to the north-east.
The latter is twelve miles in circumference, and on the
side opposite Tunis is connected with the Bay of Tunis at
the port of Goletta (Halt al-Wad) by a short canal. The
old town, of which the walls have in great part disap-
peared, lies between two suburbs, the Ribdt al-Soweika on
the north and the Ribit Bab al-Jezlra on the south. These
suburbs were surrounded by a wall in the beginning of the
19 th century. Between the old town and the Marine Gate
on the Boheira a European quarter, containing the palace
of the resident, public offices, the provisional cathedral, and
huge blocks of new houses in the French style, has sprung
up. At the extreme west of the old town is the citadel,
now used as barracks, whose kfty circuit includes the
mosque built by Abii Zakarlyi the Hafsite in 1232. To
the same century belongs the great mosque of the Olive
Tree (Jdmi' al-Zeitiina) in the centre of the town, with its
many domes and spacious cloister, which possesses a library
and serves as a college for soIn^ 450 students of Moslem
learning. To the north near the walls of the old town rises
the dome of the mosque named after S(dl Mahrez, a re-
nowned saint of the 5th century of the Flight, whose
tomb gives it a right of sanctuary for debtors. There are
many other mosques and chapels, but all are closed against
Christians. The palace of the bey, between the citadel and
the mosque of the Olive Tree, is partly in bad French taste,
but contains some rooms of the 18th century with admir<
62-2
T U N — T U N
able Moorish decoration in the delicate stucco arabesque
work for which Tunis was formerly famous- The chief
attraction of the old town lies in its bazaars, which retain
their Oriental character unimpaired. Water is supplied
to numerous fountains by an ancient aqueduct from Jebel
Z^hwftn, repaired at a cost of half a million sterling by the
late Bey Mohammed al-SAdik The principal educational
establishments besides that of the great mosque are the
Sidikiya college, founded in 1875 for gratuitous instruction
in Arabic and European subjects, the college of St Charles,
conducted by priests and open to Christians and Moslems
alike, and the normal school, founded in 1884 by the bey ta
train teachers in the French language and European ideas.
The population of Tunis is about 125,000, of whom one-
fifth are Jews and one-fifth Europeans, chiefly Maltese and
Italians
The environs of Tunis are admirable from the beautiful views
Ihey present ; the finest prospects are from the hill on the south-
east, which is crowned by a French fort, and from the Belveder on
the north of the town (Jebel al-Tiiba), on which stands a very ancient
fortress. Half-an-hour's drive west of the town is the decaying
palace called the Bardo, a little town in itself, remarkable for the
" Hon court " and some apartments in the Bloorish style. The port of
Goletta, with 4000 inhabitants, is connected with Tunis by arailway
10 miles long. The older or southern part of the town next the
caual has a fortress, now used as barracks, built by the Turks on
the site of the Spanish fortress destroyed in 1574. The ruins of
Carthage lie a few miles north of Golettn. Tho chief manufactures
of Tunis are still textiles, as in the time of Leo .ifricanus. The
manufacture of silk dates from the settlement of Moorish refugees
from Spain about 1600. There are also tanneries, a tobacco factory,
and some minor industries. The annual exports of grain, oil, stuffs,
hides, and essences are valued at £720,000, and the imports, chiefly
of cotton goods, at £560,000 There are two French steamers
weekly between Marseilles and Goletta, and the coast towns are
served and connected with Malta both by French and Italian
packets.
History. — Tunis was a Carthaginian city and is repeatedly men-
tioned in the history of the Punic wars. Strabo speaks of its hot
baths and quarries. Under the Arabs it rose to importance, be-
came the usual port for those going from Kairwan to Spain, and
was one of the residences of the Aghlabites. In the 10th century
It suffered severely, and was repeatedly pillaged in the wars of the
Fdtimites with Abu Yazid and the Zendta Berbers^ For its later
fortunes see above in the history of the country, of which since the
accession of the Hafsites it has been the capital.
TUNNELLING. The process of making a more or
less horizontal underground passage, or tunnel, without
removing the top soil is known as tunnelling. In former
times any long tube-like passage, however constructed, was
called a tunnel. At the present day the word is sometimes
popularly applied to an underground passage constructed
by trenching down from the surface to build the arching
and then refilling with the top soil ; but a passage so con-
structed, although indistinguishable from a tunnel when
completed, is more correctly termed a " Covered way," and
the operations "cutting and covering," instead of tunnel-
ling. Making a small tunnel, afterwards to be converted
into a larger one, is called " driving a heading," and in
mining operations small tunnels are termed "galleries,"
" driftways," and " adits." If the underground passage is
vertical it is a shaft ; if the shaft is commenced at the
surface the operations are known as " sinking," and it
is called a " rising " if worked upwards from a previously
constructed heading or gallery
Tunnelling has been effected by natural forces to a
far greater extent than by man. In limestone districts
innumerable swallow-holes, or shafts, have been sunk by the
rain water following joints and dissolving the rock, and
from the bottom of these shafts tunnels have been excavated
to the sides of hills in a manner strictly analogous to the
ordinary method of executing a tunnel by sinking shafts
at intervals and driving headings therefrom. Many rivers
find thus a course underground. In Asia Minor one of the
rivers on the route of the Mersina Railway extension oierces
a hill by means of a natural tunnel, whilst a little south at
Seleucia another river flows through a tunnel, 20 feet wide
and 23 feet high, cut 1600 years ago through rock so
hard that the chisel marks are still discernible. The
Mammoth cave of Kentucky and the Peak caves of
Derbyshire are examples of natural tunnelling. Mineral
springs bring up vast quantities of matter in solution. It
has been estimated that the Old Well Spring at Bath has
discharged since the commencement of the 19th century
solids equivalent to the excavation of a 6 feet by 3 feet
heading 7 miles long , and yet the water is perfectly clear
and the daily flow is only the 1 50th part of that pumped
out of the great railway tunnel under the Severn. Tunnel-
ling is also carried on to an enormous extent by the action
of the sea. Where the Atlantic rollers break on the west
coast of Ireland, on the seaboard of the western Highlands
of Scotland, and elsewhere, numberless caves and tunnels
have been formed in the cliffs, beside which artificial
tuPT'elling operations appear insignificant. The most
gigantic subaqueous demolition hitherto carried out by man
was the blowing up in 1885 of Flood Rock, a mass about
9 acres in extent, near Long Island Sound, New York
To effect this gigantic work by a single instantaneous blast
a shaft was sunk 64 feet below sea level, from the bottom
of which four miles of tunnels or galleries were driven so
as to completely honeycomb the rock. The roof rock
ranged from 10 feet to 24 feet in thickness, and was
supported by 467 pillars 15 feet square; 13,286 holes,
averaging 9 feet in length and 3 inches in diameter, were
drilled in the pillars and roof. Abou"; 80,000 cubic yards
of rock were excavated in the galleries and 275,000 re-
mained to be blasted away. The holes were charged with
1 1 0 tons of " rackarock," a more powerful explosive than
gunpowder, which was fired by electricity, when the sea was
lifted 100 feet over the whole area of the rock. Where
natural forces effect analogous results, the holes are bored
and the headings driven by the chemical and mechanical
action of the rain and sea, and the explosive force is ob-
tained by the expansive action of air locked up in the
fissares of the rock and compressed to many tons per square
foot by impact from the waves. Artificial breakwaters
have often been thus tunnelled into by the sea, the com-
pressed air blowing out the blocks and the waves carrying
away the debris.
With so many examples of natural caves and tunnels in
existence it is not to be wondered at that tunnelling was
one of the earliest works undertaken by man, first for
-dwellings and tombs, then for quarrjdng and mining, and
finally for water supply, drainage, and other requirements
of civilization A Theban king on ascending .the throne
began at once to drive the tunnel which was to form his
final resting place, and persevered with the work until
death. The tomb of Menptah at Thebes was driven at
a slope for a distance of 350 feet into the hill, when a
shaft was sunk and the tunnel projected a further length
of about 300 feet, and enlarged into a chamber for the
sarcophagus Tunnelling on a large scale was also carried
on at the rock temples of Nubia and of India, and the
architectural features of the entrances to some of these
temples might be studied with advantage by the designers
of modern tunnel fronts Petrie has traced the method of
underground quarrying followed by the Egyptians opposite
the Pyramids. Parallel galleries about 20 feet square
were driven into the rock and cross galleries cut, so that a
hall 300 to 400 feet wide was formed, with a roof supported
by rows of pillars 20 feet square and 20 feet apart. Blocks
of stone were removed by the workmen cutting grooves all
round them, and. where the stone was not required for use,
but merely had to be removed to form a gallery, the
grooves were wide enough for a man to stand up in.
TUNNELLING
623
Where granite, diorite, and other hard stone had to be
cut, the work was done by tube drills and by saws supplied
with corundum, or other hard gritty material, and water,
— the drills leaving a core of rock exactly like tnat of the
modern diamond drill As instances of ancient tunnels
through soft ground and requiring masonry arching, re-
ference may be made to the vaulted drain under the south-
east palace of Nimrud and to the brick arched tunnel, 12
feet high and 15 feet wide, under the Euphrates. In
Algeria, Switzerland, and wherever the Romans went, re-
mains of tunnels for roads, drains, and water-supply are
found. Pliny refers to the tunnel constructed for the
drainage of Lake Fucino as the greatest public work of
the time. It was by far the longest tunnel in the world,
being more than 3i miles in length, and was driven under
Monte Salviano, which necessitated shafts no less than 400
feet in depth. Forty shafts and a number of "cunicixli"
or inclined galleries were sunk, and the excavated material
was drawn up in copper pails, of about ten gallons capacity,
by windlasses. The tunnel was designed to be 10 feefr high
by 6 feet wide, but its actual cross section varied- It is
stated that 30,000 labourers were occupied eleven years in
its construction. With modern appliances such a tunnel
could be driven from the two ends without intermediate
shafts in eleven months.
No practical advance was made on the tunnelling methods
of the Romans until gunpowder came into use. Old en-
gravings of mining operations early in the 17th century
show that excavation was still accomplished by pickaxes
orhammer and chisel,- and that wood fires were lighted at
the ends of the headings to split and soften the rock in
advance (see fig. 1). Crude methods of ventilation by
Tig. 1 —Method of mining, 1621. {,FTom De ReMetaUica,Biise\,l621.}
shaking cloths in the headings and by placing inclined
boards at the top of the shafts are also on record. In
1766 a timnel 9 feet wide, 12 feet high, and 2880 yards
long was commenced on the Grand Trunk Canal, England,
and completed eleven years later ; and this was followed
by many others. On the introduction of railways tunnel-
ling became one of the ordinary incidents of a contractor's
work ; probably upwards of 4000 railway tunnels have
been executed.
Subaqueous Tumielling. — In 1825 Brunei commenced and in
1843 completed the Thames tunnel, which was driven at points
through liquid mud by the aid of a "shield" at a cost of about
£1300 per lineal yard. It is now used by the East London Railway.
In 1872 Chesborough began tunnelling under the Detroit river,
between Canada and Michigan, U.S., but the work was abandoned
owing to continued imiptiona of water after some 600 yards of
headings had been driren.
The most important subaqueous work yet accomplished — the
Severn ainnel, 4^ miles in length — was commenced in 1873 and
finished in 1886, Messrs Hawksbaw, Son, Hayter, and Richardsoi.
being the engineers and Mr T. A. Walker the contractor. The bed
of the Severn is formed principally of marls, sandstones, and con-
glomerates in nearly horizontal strata, overlying highly inclined
coal measures, shales, and sandstones, which are also exposed in
the bed of the river. The tunnel is made almost wholly in the
Trias and Coal Measure formations, but for a short distance at its
eastern end it passes through gravel The lowest part of the line ia
below the "Shoots," where the depth is 60 feet at low water and 100
feet at high water, and the thickness of Pennant sandstone over the
brickwork of the tunnel is 45 feet Under the Salmon Pool, a de-
pression in the bed of the river on the English side, there is a cover
of only 30 feet of Trias marl Much water was met with through-
out. In 1879 the works were flooded for some months by a large
land spring on the Welsh side of the river. The water which sup-
plied the spring came from fissures in the carboniferous limestone,
which was met with only at this- place, and it is now conveyed by
a side heading parallel to the tunnel to a shaft 29 feet in diameter,
in which are fixed pumps of adequate power. On another occasion
the works were flooded by water which burst through a hole in
the river bed at the Salmon Pool. This hole, which was in the
Trias marl and had an area of 16 feet by 10 feet, was subsequently
filled with clay and the works were completed beneath it. The
tunnel is for a double line of railway and ia lined throughout with
vitrified bricks set in Portland cement mortar. A heading was
first driven entir^y across the river to test the ground and sub-
sequently another heading at a lower level. "IJreakups" were
made at intervals of two to five chains and the arching was carried
on at each of these points. All parts of the excavation were
timbered, and the greatest amount excavated in any one week waa
6000 cubic yards. Owing to the inrush of water it was frequently
necessary to completely roof the timbering with felt or corrugated
iron before the bricklayers could commence the arching. The total
amount of water raised at all the pumping stations is about
27,000,000 gallons in twenty-four hours ; but the total pumping
power provided is equal to 66,000,000 gallons in twenty-four hours.
The ventilation is effected by a fan of the Guibal pattern, 40 feet
in diameter and 12 feet wide, making forty-three revolutions and
drawing 447,000 cubic feet of air per minute from the tunnel through
an 18-feet shaft at Sudbrooke (Monmouth).
Another example of subaqueous tunnelling, second only in Im-
portance to the foregoing, is the Mersey tunnel, the length of which
between the pumping shafts on each side of the river is 1 mile.
From each shaft a drainage heading was driven through the red
sandstone with a rising gradient towards the centre of the river.
This heading was partly bored out by a Beaumont machine to a
diameter of 7 feet 4 inches, and at a rate attaining occasionally 65
lineal yards per week. AJl of the tunnel excavation, amounting
to 320,000 cubic yards, was got out by hand labour, since heavy blast-
ing would have shaken the rock- The minimum cover between the
top of the arch and the bed of the river is 30 feet. Pumping
machinery is provided for 27,000,000 gallons per day, which is
more than double the usual quantity of water ; and ample ventila-
tion is secured by two 30 - feet diameter and two 40 - feet diameter
Guibal fans. Messrs Brunlees and Fox were the engineers, and
Messrs Waddell the contractors for the works, which were opened
in 1886, about 6 years after the commencement of operations.
Proposals for the construction of a tuimel about 30 miles in
length to connect England and France have been brought forward
periodically from the commencement of the 19th century, but
nothing was done Until 1881, when preliminary works of some im-
portance were commenced by Sir Edward Watkin and the South-
Eastern Railway Company. At the proposed point of crossing the
deepest part of the channel is 210 feet, and, as the beds on the
English side and those on the French side-, so far as relates to
the grey chalk and chalk marl, are each 225 feet thick, it is assumed
that those strata are continuous and that the tunnel would be
driven through a water-tight material Shafts have been sunk near
Folkestone, and experimental headings have been driven 2000 yards
under the sea, on the line of the tunnel The heading, 7 feet in
diameter, was cut by a Beaumont boring machine, having two arms
with steel teeth, and driven by compressed air ; the usual rate of
progress was 15 lineal yards per day.
A partially constructed subaqueous tunnel now Ues drowned under
the Hudson river at New York. An attempt was made to drive
a double tunnel through the mud and silt forming the river bed.
In 1880, when about a hundred yards had been completed, the
water burst in, and twenty men were drowned. Work was sub-
sequently resumed on the following plan (see fig. 2). A pilot tunnel,
consisting of an iron tube of 6 feet 6 inches in diameter, was
advanced from 30 to 40 feet ahead of the main tunnel, to form a firm
support for the iron plates of the latter by means of radial screws.
Compressed air, pumped into the tunnel at a pressure of about 20
lb per square inch, prevented the weight of silt and water from
crushing the plating and flowing into the tunnel The excavated
624
TUNNELLING
Btit was mixed viith water and ejected by compressed air. Between
the shafts the length of the proposed tunnel is 1 niiFe, and about
Hudson river tuimel — method of work.
one-eighth of the distance had been Accomplished when the works
were stopped for financial reasons.
Small subaqueous tunnels have been driven through clay without
diflficulty under Lakes Michigan and Erie, and elsewhere in America.
In England a heading was driven nearly across the Thames in 1807,
and eighty years later two 10 feet 6 inch iron-lined tunnels were
constructed under the river close to the foundation of London
Bridge by Mr Grcathead, with the aid of a simple annular shield
advanced by six hydraulic presses. Where open gravel or water
has to be tunnelled through a diaphragm must be fitted to the
shield. Mallet proposed in 1858 to carry in this way a tubular
tunnel across the English Channel. Various plans have been
suggested for the removal of the soU in advance of the shield, Mr
Greathead would effect it by the circulation of a closed current of
water, carrying the stuff through the shield from front to back ;
and an American plan provides for forcing it bodily out of the
way by a plough-shaped shield, aided by jets of water at a very
high pressure.
Tunnelling through McnnUaiTis. — Where a great thickness of rock
overlies a ttinncl, it is necessary to do the work wholly from the
two ends, without intermediate shafts. The problem resolves itself
into devising the most expeditious way of excavating and removing
the rock, and there are none of the uncertainties and difficulties
which make subaqueous tunnelling of so high an interest. Ex-
perience has led to great advances in speed and economy, as will
be seen from the following particulai^s of the three tunnels thi'ough
the Alps, the longest yet constructed.
TynneL
Length,
Progress per Day.
Cost
Mont Cenis
St Gottlmrd
Miles.
n
n
Lineal Tanis.
2-57
6-01
0-07
Per Lineal Yard.
£226
143
103
In 1857 the first blast was fired in connexion witb the Mont
Cenis works ; in 1861 machine drilling was introduced ; and in
1871 the tunnel was opened for traffic. With the exception of
about 300 yaids the tunnel is lined throughout with brick or stone.
Little interest now attaches to the method of tunnelling adopted
at Mont Cenis, as it is in several respects obsolete. During the
first four yeai:3 of hand labour the average progress was not more
than 9 inches per day on each side of the Alps ; but with compressed-
ail* rock-drills the rate towards the end was five times greater.
In 1872 the St Gotthard tunnel was commenced and in 1881 the
first locomotive ran through it. Mechanical drills were used from
the commencement Tunnelling was carried on by driving in
advance a top heading about 8 feet square, then enlarging this
sideways, and finally sinking the excavation to invert level (see
figs. 3 and 4). Air for working the rock-drills was compressed to
seven atmospheres by turbines of about 2000 horse-power. Six to
to eight Ferroux drills, making about 180 blows a minute, were
mounted on a carriage and pushed up to the point of attack. From
thirteen to eighteen holes were drilled by the machine and its
sixteen attendants to depths of from 2' 7* to 4' 3" in three, to five
hours, and the work of charging with dynamite, firing, and clearing
away was then done by twenty-two men in three to four hours.
The charge per hole averaged 1 J lb, and after firing a strong current
of compressed air was directed over the face of the excavation-
Four sets of holes were under favourable circumstances drilled la
Figs. 3 and 4. — Method of excavation ia St Gotthard tunnel,
twenty-four hours, wliich rendered a progress of 13 feet per day in
such rock as gneiss attainable in each heading.
The driving of the Arlberg tunnel was commenced in 1880 and
the work was completed in little more than three years. The main
heading was driven along the bottom of the tunnel and shafts were
opened up 25 to 70 yards apart, from which smaller headings were
driven right and left. The tunnel was enlarged to its full section
at different points simultaneously in lengths of 8 yards, the excava-
tion of each occupying about twenty days, and the masonry 14
days. Ferroux percussion air drills and Brandt rotary hydraulic
drills were used, and the performance of the latter was especially
satisfactory. After each blast a fine spray of water was injected,
which assisted the ventilation materially. In the St Gotthard
tunnel the discharge of the air drills was relied on for ventilation.
In the Arlberg tunnel over 8000 cubic feet of air per minute were
thrown in by ventilators. In a long tunnel the quick transport of
materials is of equal importance with rapid drilling and blasting.
In the Arlberg, to keep pace with the miners, 900 tons of excavated
material had to bo removed, and 350 tons of masonry to be in-
troduced, daily at each end of the tunnel, which necessitated the
transit of 450 wagons. This traffic was carried on over a length of
3J miles on a single track of 27-inch gauge with two sidings. When
the locomotives ran into the tunnel the fires were damped down,
.and, as the pressure in the boiler was fifteen atmospheres, the stored-
up heat in the water furnished the necessarji-'pow-er. The cost per
lineal yard varied according to the thickness of masonry lining and
the distance from the mouth of the tunnel. For the first 1000
yards from the entrance the prices per lineal yard were £11, Ss.
for the lower heading; £7, 123. for the upper one ; £30, 10s. for
the unlined tunnel ; £45 for the tunnel with a thin lining of
masonry ; and £124, os. with a lining 3 feet thick at the arch,
4 feet at the sides, and 2 feet 8 inches at the invert.
Lang Tun-nels. — The new Croton aqueduct tunnel from Croton
dam to the reservoir in New York is worthy of note both for its
great length and the rapid progress made with it. The distance
is 33J miles and practically the whole is tunnelled through rock.
Shafts were sunk about IJ miles apart and headings driven each
way. IngersoU drills were chiefly used, and the rate of advance
with the headings was in 1886 IJ miles per month. The old
Croton aqueduct was 7 feet 8 inches wide by 8 feet 5 inches high ;
the new one is 13 feet 7 inches in width and height.
Tunnelling in Towns. — Where tunnels have to be carried through
soft soil and in proximity to valuable buildings special precautions
Flos. 5 and 0. — Giv.it Noitlicni Railway tunnel. Method of tunnel-
ling under the Metropolitan cattle market, London.
have to be taken to avoid settlement. The important Metropolitan
tunnels constructed by Sir John Fowler have already been de-
scribed under Railway (vol. xx. p. 239). Another successful ex-
I
T U N — T U R
625
tmple nf such work is the tunnel driven in 18S6 by Mr Johnson,
the Gnat Northeni Company's engineer, under the Metropolitan
cattle market. WTiere clear of boildin^ the tunnel was executed
in 12-feet lengths measured from the hnished brickvork, the ex-
caTation extending another 5 feet The Tace of the excavation was
carried out in four sections, the 6rst between the head trees and
the first sill was formed with a rake of 1 in iji, the second and
third with a rake of 1 in 6, and the fourth nas vertical, the whole
face being close boarded (see figs. 5 and 6). The arch and side
walls were eight rings and the invert six rings thick. A 12-feet
length was completed in 12 to H days, and the subsidence in the
ground was about 3^ inches. Under buildings and roads the
tannel wa.s executed in 6-feet lengths. The crown bars, 15 inches
in diameter, alternating six and seven in number, were built in with
solid brickwork in cement and hard wood wedging. The skeleton
centres for the arching were supported by props notched into the
ribs and provided with wedges for tightening up. A 6feet length
was built in six daj-s. and the surface subsidence, consequent upon
the impossibility of exactly fitting the polin" boards to the clay,
was only from 1 inch to 1| inches. Several heavy buildings were
tunnelled under without any structural damage arising.
Where open ballast and running sand heavily charged with water
an met with a tun-
nel cannot be driven
To meet snch cas^
and also to provide
a safe means of tun-
nelling under dock
basins, canals, and
rivers, the pneu-
matic shield (se<
fig- 7) was designed
by Mr Benjamin
Baker. The shield
is supported against
external pressui«
by vertical girders
about 6 feet apart.
Horizontal shelves
of steel plates with
cutting edges are
spaced about 4 feet
apart, and the face
of the shield is
d.Tsed by vertical
plat°>s sod slides -,
the a.Taogement is
such tba*. any slide can be opened to admit of the ballast or sand
being excavated, whilst the compressed air filling the tunnel pre-
rents the influx of water during the process. Where hard water,
tight clay is encountered, sections of the shield plates are unbolted
Co admit miners. When suthcient materiL.1 has been excavated the
thield is advanced by hydraulic pressure and the brick arching built
See Aqdedcct ftDd Railwav; also Drinker's TvnnttliTuj, New York, 1873
0 most important work) ; and Proe, JjisL Cio. Eng., art. "Tanocla" (R B )
TUNNY {Thynruii Oiynnm), one of the largest fishes of
the family of Mackerels, belongs to the genus of which the
B.'inito (Th. pelamys) and the Albacores {Th. albacora, Th.
alaltmga, <tc ) are equally well-known members. From
the latter the tunny is distinguished by its much shorter
pectoral fins, which reach backwards only to, or nearly to,
the end of the first dorsal fin. It possesses nine short fin-
lets behind the dorsal, and eight behind the anal fin. Its
colour is dark bluish above, and greyish, tinged and spotted
with silvery, below. The tunny is a pelagic fish, but
periodically approaches the shore, wandering in large
shoals, at least in the Mediterranean, within well -ascer-
tained areas along the coast. The causes by which its
wanderings are regulated in the Atlantic Ocean are much
less understood ; it not unfrequently appears in small com-
panies or singly in the English Channel and in the German
Ocean, probably in pursuit of the shoals of pilchards and
herrings on which it feeds. The regularity of its appcar-
,ance on certain parts of the coasts of the Mediterranean
has led to the establishment of a systematic fishery, which
has been carried on from the time of the Phoenicians to
the present day. Immense numbers of tunnies were caught
23—23
on the Spanish coast and in the Sea of Marmora, where,
however, this industry has much declined The Sardinian
tunnies were considered to be of superior excellence. The
Fia 7 —Mr B. Baker's pneumatic shield.
Tunny {Thynniu (Aynniu).
greatest number is now caught on the north coast of Sicily,
the fisheries of this island supplying most of the preserved
tunny which is exported to other parts of the world. In
ancient times the fish were preserved in salt, and that
coming from Sardinia, which was specially esteemed by the
Romans, was known as SaUamentum sardicum. At pre-
sent preference is given to tunny preserved in oil. Many
of the fishes, especially the smaller ones, are consumed
fresh. The tunny occurs also in the South Pacific ; but
several other species seera to take its place in the Indo-
Pacific Ocean. It is one of the la?-gest fishes, attaining;
to a length of ten feet and to a weight of more than a
thousand pounds.
On the tunny fisheries of ancient and modern times, see Cuvier
and Valenciennes, Hist. Nat. dcs Poissms (vo\. viii. pp 71-82).
TUNSTALL, a market town of Staffordshire, England,
is situated on a branch line of the London and North-
western Railway and on the Trent and Mersey Canal,
4 miles north-west of Stoke and 168 north-west of London.
Among the public buildings are the market (1858), town
hall (1884), old court-house (now used as a free library
and reading room), and board schools (1880). The chief
manufactures are those peculiar to the Potteries district;
there are also large iron-works (coal and iron being obtained
in the neighbourhood), and brick and tile works. The
town is chiefly the growth of the 19th century, and in
1811 numbered only 1677 inhabitants. In 1885 it was
included for parliamentary purposes in the borough of
Newcastle-nnder-Lyme. It is governed by a local board
of twenty-four members. The population of the urban
sanitary district (area 690 acres) was 13,540 in 1871, and
14,244 in 1881.
TURANIAN. This word means etymologically no
more than " not Iranian," and in this sense the word Turan
was used by Sasanian monarchs to cover those parts of their
realm that did not belong to Iran. The application of the
word- to denote the Ural-Altaic family of languages is
extremely unfortunate and seems to be falling out of use.
See Philology, vol. xviii p. 779.
TURBINE. See HYDROMEcnANics, vol. xii. p. 524
TURBOT,' the largest and best known of a genus of
flat fishes, Jihombun, which bears the appropriate systematic
name of Hk. matrimus. The turbot has great uidth of
body, and is scalelcss, but is covered with conical bonj
tubercles. The eyes are on the left side of the body, the
lower being slightly in advance of the upper ; the mouth
is large and armed with teeth of uniformly minute size.
The turbot is found all round the coasts of Europe (except
in the extreme north), preferring a flat sandy bottom with
from 10 to 50 fathoms of water. The broaJ banks off the
Dutch coast are a favourite resort. It is a voracious fish,
and feeds on other fish, crustaceans, and mollusks. It
' The word "turbot" is of great antiquity, perb.aps of Celtic origin ;
it is preserved in French in the same form as in English, and is com-
posed of two words, of which the second is identical with the " but "
in holibut and with the German "Butte," which signifies flat fish.
The German name for the turbot is " Steinbntte. "
XXIIL — 79
626
T U R — T U R
seems to constantly change its abode, wandering northward
during the summer, and going into deeper water in the
cold season. Some thirty years ago it was estimated that
the Dutch supplied turbot to the London market to the
value of £80,000 a year. At present (1887) the value of
turbot annually «)ld in London cannot bo ascertained ;
but it-must be several times that amount, and is principally
earned by English line-fishermen and trawlers. Although
the turbot abounds off the west coast of Ireland, the
fishing is not carried on with the same energy and s\icccss
as in the English Channel and German Ocean. The turbot
is also common, though not abundant, in the Mediterranean,
.and is replaced in the Black .Sea by an allied species with
much larger bony tubercles {Rh. nuxo/icits). Bolli species
grow to a large size, being usually sold at from 5 to 10 lb ;
but the common turbot is stated to attain to a weight of 30
lb. Both from its size and the excellent flavour of its flesh
it ranks next after the codfish among Briti-sh sea-fishes.
TURENNE, Henri de la Tour d' Advkrcne, Vico.mte
CE (1611-1075), a famous French general of the 17th
century, was the second son of Uenri, Due de Bouillon, by
Elizabeth, daughter of William L, prince of Orange, and
■was born at Sedan on lltb September IGll. He was
carefully educated in the strictest doctrines of the Reformed
religion, and at tlic age of thirteen was sent to learn war
from his uncles Maurice and Henry of Nassau in the
campaigns of these princes against the Spaniards. In
1G2G he received a commission as captain of infantry
in the service of Holl.and, and by 1G30 had shown such
military capacity that Richelieu invited him back to France
and appointed him colonel of a regiment. He was present
at the relief of Casale, and on 2Ist June 1035 was made
a marfelml de camp for his services at the siege of La Motto
in Lorraine under De la Force. In that year he took com-
mand of a division in the army under Cardinal La Valettc
in the defence of Mainz, and, when the cardinal's army
bad to fall back on Metz from want of provisions, Turenne
commanded the rear-guard, covering the retreat with
adniir.ablc skill. In 1G3G he was present under La Valette
at the siege of Saverne, where ho was wounded, and in the
campaign in Franche Comte; in 1G37 ho served under
the same conmiander in Flanders, took Landrecics, and
drove back the cardinal infant from Maubeuge. In 1038
he served under Bcrnhard of Saxo- Weimar at the siege of
Breisach, and in the following year was transferred to the
army of D'Harcourt in Italy. It was at this epoch that
he cslablishetl his fame as a general. In November 1G39
be covered the retreat of the army, and fought a famous
engagement, known as the battle of the "route de Quicrs" ;
in 1610 he .saved Casale, and insisted u])on not abandoning
the siege of Turin, which town surrendered on 2ttl( Sep-
tember ; in 104 1 he took Coni, Ceva, and Mondovi ; and
on 11th March 1042 he was promoted to the rank of
lieutenant-general. After he had .served for a short time
in Koussillon, he was ajipointed by Richelieu in 1G4 3 to
the command of the army in Italy, under Thom.as of
Savoy, although his brother, the Due de Bouillon, had ju.st
before been arrested as an accomplice in the conspiracy of
Cinq Mars. Mazarin did not exhibit quite so-much confi-
dence in Turenne, and in December 1043 removed him
from Italy, sending him to collect the remainsof Bernhard
of Saxc- Weimar's army and form them once more into an
organized force; but he .softened the transference by creat-
ing Turenne a marshal of France on IGlh May 1044.
Turennc's four campaigns in Ccrniaiiy, -which largely
ciitributed to t!ie peace of Westphalia, have always been
regarded, as models in the art of war. In June 1G44 he
crossed the Rhine at. I'reisach, and was marching against
the Comte de Mercy, the Imperialist general, who was at
Freiburg, when he was superseded by tlie Due d'Enghicn,
better known by his later title of the Prince dfe Condi.
D'Enghien, after fighting thu three days' battle of Freiburg,
left the army again to Turenne, who took Philippsburg and
Mainz, and then went into winter quarters. In May 1645
Turenne was surprised by Jtercy at Maricnthal and de-
feated ; but he skilfully concentrated the remains of his
army and retreated into Hesse, where ho was soon joined
by D'Eiighien. The two marshals, having reorganized their
army, marched against Mercy and totally defeated him at
Nordlingon on 3d August 1045, when Mercy was killed
D'Enghien again left the army to Turenne, who in con
junction with the Swedish army under Wraiigel overran
Franconia and Swabia, taking all the fortresses there in
1046. In 1647 he conducted a still more masterly cam-
paign, and after beating the Bavarians and Imperialists in
two engagements he and the Swedes occupied Bavaria,
and drove tlie old duke out of his dominions.
When the trcul les of the Fronde (see France, vol. iz
p. 572, and MazarIn) broke out, Turenne, who was in com-
mand of the veteran troops of Bernliard of Saxe-Weimar
in Alsace, hesitated which side to take, till the Duchesse
de LoKcUEViLiyE (7.".), with whom he fell yjelently in lov«,
persuaded him to side with the parlement. Bnt his troopa
refused to follow him, and he had to fly with her to
Flanders. He there took a command in the Spanish array
under Don Estevan Gomar, and, when trying to raise the
siege of Rcthel, was utterly defeated by Du Plessis-Praslia.
Bnt in 1052 he defeated Coiide at Gien, and nearly an-
nihilated his army in the battle of the Faubourg St.
Antoine. When the troubles of the Fronde were over,
Turenne marched upon the frontier, and in several cam-
paigns defeated the Spaniards over and over again, by thesa
victories paving the way for the peace of the Pyrenees
(1059), the natural complement of the peace of West-
phalia. In these campaigns he had once more to fight
against Conde, gencral-in-chicf of the armies of Spain, anil
in 1651 ho showed his superiority by raising the siege of
Arras and driving the Sjianiards from their lines. In
1050 Conde, assisted by Don John of Austria, won an
exactly similar victory and relieved Valenciennes, which
Turenne was besieging. The prolonged contest between
the two was decided in 1G58 by Turennc's victory of the
Dunes, in which Cromwell's contingent of 6000 soldiers
took part.
Louis XIV. now began to rule in reality, and one of his
first acts -was to create Turenne in I GOO marshal-general
of the armies of France. Seven years later Turenne
occupied French Flanders and took all the fortresses in
that province, though the king was nominally in com-
mand of tlic army, — an exploit equalled in the following
year by Conde's rapid occupation of Franche Comti.
It was in 1008 that Turenne made his notorious change
of faith. Born of Calvirist parents and educated a
Protestant, he had in compliance with the tenets of his
religion refu-scd to marry one of Richelieu's nieces in 1030,
and had eventually married a daughter of the Protestant
Marshal de la Force. But it can hardly be believed that
he was converted at the ago of fifty-seven from rebgious
convictions. In 1672 the second great European war
broke out, brought about by the ambition of Louis XIV.
Turenne once more took command of the army, which the
king accompanied, and speedily occupied the greater part
of Holland, which, however, they were forced to ev.acuaie
owing to the Dutch cutting their dykes. In the following
year Turenne marched into Westphalia to ojipose the
imi)erialist forces, and, though his army was small com-
jiared to tlial of Montccuculi, the imperialist general, ho
man.aged to make head against both liim and the elector
of Brandenburg. In 1C7.'5 he w'as compelled to act on the
defensive; but in 1074 in spite of bis inferiority of nurabrr*
T U R — T U R
627
he boldly resumed the aggressive. Crossing the Rhine at
Philippsburg In June, and marching rapidly to Sinsheim,
he defeated the im[>erialist general Caprara and the duke
of Lorraine. IJc then retired for a lime, but in December
of the same year he made a sudden rush into the enemy's
winter quarters and utterly routed the elector of Branden-
burg, who was then general of the imperialists, at Colniar.
Between the battle of Sinsheim and the dash at Colmar,
Turenne, under orders from Louvois, committed the acts
which are the greatest blot ujwn his fame by devastat-
ing the Palatinate. After the rout of Colmar, and the
defeat of Tiirkheim which followed it, he laid waste the
greater part of Alsace, as a defensive measure against
another advance of the imperialists. He then advanced
into the heart of Germany, and again met Montceuculi,
who had succeeded the elector of Brandenburg as general-
in-chief. The two generals manoeuvred for four months In
much the same way as Wellington and Marmont marched
and counter inarched before the battle of Salamanca; at
last, on 27th July 1075, their field of battle was cho.ien,
and, as Turetine was directing the position of a battery, he
was struck by a cannon ball and killed on the spot. The
opws of his death was received with universal sorrow,
Flochior, Mascaron, Saint f.vremond, and Lamoignon wrcte
iluffis of him ; and Madame de Sevigni describes the
consternation cau.<ed by his sudden lo.<s. Bis body was
taken to St Denis, and buried with the kings of I'rance.
Even the extreme revolutionists of 1793 respected it, and,
when the bones of the sovereigns were thrown to the
winds, the remains of Turenne were prcscrvcil at the
Biuseum of natural history until 23rd September 1800,
when they were removed by order of Bonaparte to the
church of the Invalides at I'arls, where they still rest.
Txircnnc'f fame ri^sts on his niilitjry adiirvcmont.s ; as a m.in he
was not nioie ui^liii^iiishcj for liis vitlucs than llic 'Juke ol' Marl-
horongli, vliom in ninny re^^pccts hr resetriblej. IIo liad iiiJceJ
ibc calnmc.-is of all |>liilo;:ophic, cold-ioinilcd tcnipcrntufuls, but
few olhcr praisiworlliy qualities As a jKilitieiaa lie liolJs no high
rlarc. (11 M. S )
TURG.M, a P.ussian province in Central Asia, formerly
a part of the Kirghiz steiipe, and now embodied in the
governor general.-hip of the Steppes, is bounded by Uralsk
and Orenburg on the \V. and X., by Akmolinsk on the
E., and by Syr-Daria and the Sea' of Aral on the S. This
extensive and irregularly-sha[icd territory, which has an
area (176,800 square miles) as large as that of Caucasia
and Transcaucasia taken together, belongs to the Aral-
Caspian depression. It has, however, the Mugojar I fills
on Its western border and includes a part of the southern
Urals , and from Akmolinsk it is separated by a range of
lulls which runs between the two chief rivers of the
Kirghiz steppe — the Turgai and the Sary-su. In the north
il includes the low belt of undulating land which stretches
from the Mugojar LIllls towards the north-east and sepa-
rates the rivers belonging to the Aral basin from those
which How towards the Arctic Ocean, and beyond this
range it embraces the upper TolMjt The remainder is
steppe lanil, sloping gently towards the Sea. of Aral. The
Mugojar Uills consist of an undulating plateau nearly
lOOO feet in height, built up of Permian and Cretaceous
deposits, and deeply grooved by rivers. They are not the
independent chain which our maps make them out to be':
they merely continue the Urals towards the south, and arc
connected with the Ust Urt plateau by a range of hills
which was foimerly an island of the Aral-Cas[iian Sea.
Their northern extremity joins the undulating plateau
(400 to GOO lect), built up of sandstones and marls, which
separates the tributaries of the Tobot from those of the
Ural, and falls by a range of steep crags — probably an old
' S<-e P. S. Nazaroff, in " Uechtrehes Zoulo^-iques dans Ics Steppes
les Kirghizes," in DiUl Six. d<s Nutur. lU Moscow, 18SC, No. 4.
shore-line of the Aral basin — towards the steppes. The
steppe land of Turgai is only some 300 feet above the
sealevel, and is doited with lakes, of which the Tcholgar-
denghiz, which receives the Turgai and its tributary tho
Irghiz, is the largest. The Turgai was, at a recent epoch,
a large river llowing into the Sea of Aral and receiving an
extensive system of tributaries, which are now lost in the
sands before joining it. Remains of aquacie plants buried in
the soil of the steppe, and shells of M yldus and Cardium,
both still found in the Sea o' Aral, show that during the
Glacial period this region was covered by the waters of
the Aral-Caspian Sea.
The climate of Turgai is exceedingly dry and eontlnental. Orsbi
a town of Orcnlmrg, on its nortli-western border, has a January
as cold as that of the west coast of Nova Zembla ( - 4" Fahr.), while
in July it is as hot as July in Moroi.i {'Vi ; the corresponding
figures for Irgliiz, in the centre of tb-- ,»rovirice, arc 7° and 77%
Al liglii?. anil Orsk the annual rainfall is somewhat under 10 anq
12 inclies respectively {3 inches in .sumraer). The west winds
art desiccated bclore they reach tbe Turgai steppes, and the north-
east winds, which in winter bring cold, dry snows from Siberia,
raise in suniiiier formidable clouds of sand- A climate so dry is 01
course iucoinpatibie witb a vigorous forest growth. There is seme
tiinl>er on tbe southern Urals, the Mugojar Hills, and the water-
parling of the Tobot ; elsewberc trees arc rare, — only shrubs, such
as the wild cherry {Ci.roffii.-i Chnvia:ccras\is) and the dwarf almond
{AmyijdaUisnnna) growing on the liiliy slojies, wiiilc the rich black-
earth sod of the strp|v is eliielly covered with feather grass {Stipa
ix'niutta), the well-known oriurnent of the south Russian steppes.
In spring the grass vegetation is luxuriant, and gce.se and craned
arc attracted in vast uuinbers by the fields of the Kirghiz from
the depth of the steppe The jeiboa {bipn^ jaculiis) and the raar-
mot {iSpcnnoyhil Hi ni/csrens) are characteristic of the fauna of the
region ; another species of marmot {Antonit/i btttiac) and the CaniS
co/-,v«c are common ; and the saiga antelope of Central Asia is occa-
sionally niet with, rurtber south the black earth di^appeat-s and
with it tbe feather grass, its place being taken by its congener, Siijia
otpillatu. Trees disappear, and among the bushes along the banks
of the livers willows and the pseiulo-aeacia or Siberian pea tree
(Cara'j'iiia micruphjla) are most prevalent. In the iiiidille parts
of tbe province the ilayeysoil is corupletcly clothed with worm-
wood {Artanu-na fraiyatis and A. moiio^fyiin), with a few grass>
plants on the banks of the rivers and lakes (Lusimjrostis .'^ilentktis,
Alhagi c<i)n(loruin and A. kinjhuurum, Obione juiTtidacuiiUs, Uali-
mixlcndfiLin anji-ntcvin) ; w bile large areas consist of shifting sands,
salt clays clothed with a rich carpet of various Snl.sotncae, and
dried beds of old lakes. Such lakes as still e.\isl, notwithstanding
tbe rapid desieeatiou now going on. are sui lonmled by rush thickets,
— the retre.it of wild boars. I'mgai is thus the borderlaud between
the fiora of Enroim and that of Cenlral Asia.
In 1S82 Ihe population of Turgai was estim.^tcd at 323,110, all
nomad Kirghiz, with the exeeplion of some 3tju0, who are settled
in four villages ollii-iallv descril>cd as towns. Agriculture is in ita
earliest stage of development ; but sonic lOO.QCU ijnarters of corn
are raised in tbe south-west by the Kirghiz, who sell some of it in
Orenburg. Cattle-breeding is Ihe chief occupation, and within
tbe province there arc some 800,000 horses, 3:jri,000 cattle, about
•20n,000 camels, and mole than two million sheep. liut the want
of fodder in sjiring occasions violent murrains, which sometimes
result in actual famine among the Kirghiz. Endeavours have
recently I-ieeii made to induce the fieople to make communal stores
of hay, but the 300.000 cwls. yeaily collected in this way are in-
sullieieiit. The Kirghiz of tbe southern parts go in wintei to the
better sheltered parts of Syr-Daiia, while iu the summer some
30,000 iibitkds (felt tents) of nomads come from the neighlKniring
provinces to graze their cattle on the grassy steppes of Turgai.
Some 30,(100 cwls. of salt are animally got from the lakes. The
four settlements of the province are Turgai, thuf town and seat of
the proviiitl.tt adriiinistratiun. with less than -100 inhabitants, and
the "district towns" of Irgbiz ('.'2o), Ak-liibe (400), and Kara-
•butak (300), the last two being more or less fortifred. Several
merchants in tbe.se carry on trade with the Kirghiz, exchanging
manufactured goods for wool and skins, which are sent to the
frontier settlements of Orenburg. There is a brisk caravan trallic
through Turgai.
TURCOT. Anxe Kobicrt Jacques Turcot, Marquis
DE l'Adlnt; (1727-1781), French .statesman and economist,
was born at Paris, 10th May 1727. Uc was tho third son
of Michel ^ticiino Turgot and of Mailoleine Franijoise
Martineau. His family, which was ancient and noble, is
said to have been originally Scottish, but had long been
settled in Normandy. His ancestors early abandoned tbe
628
TURCOT
ffword for the robe. Both his father and grandfather had
been in the civil service of the state : his father was
" prevot des marchands " at Paris, and won a high rep ata-
tion as a magistrate and administrator. Turgot in his
childhood was timid, and showed in company an absent
and embarrassed air, from which he never afterwards
entirely freed himself, and which in later life was some-
times unjustly attributed to hauteur. His mother, through
excessive or injudi ,ious efforts to correct these faults, ap-
pears to have aggravated them. He obtained his early
education at the College Louis- le-Grand, and was after-
wards a student of the College du Plessis. He then entered
the seminary of St Sulpice, and thence passed to the Sor-
bonne with the view of taking his licence in theology.
But he decided finally in 1751 not to follow the ecclesi-
astical profession. His opinions were inconsistent with
that calling, and he said " he could not consent to wear a
mask all his life." He showed at this time an enthusiastic
love of literature and powers of memory which are de-
scribed as " prodigious," as well as a penetrating intellect
and a sound judgment. We have the testimony of the
Abbd Morellet, who was then his intimate acquaintance and
constant companion, to the singular purity, the simplicity,
modesty, and frank gaiety which characterized him.
As prior of the Sorbonne (an honorary office conferred
annually on some distinguished student) he wrote and
delivered publicly in 1750 two remarkable pieces, — one
On the Benefits which the Christian Religion lias conferred
on MankiTid, the other On the Historical Progress of the
Human Mind. Having chosen the law as his profession,
ho was appointed in 1752 "conseiUer substitut du pro-
cureur g^n6ral," and afterwards " conseiller au parlement."
The controversy arising from the refusal of the sacraments
to the Jansenists by the archbishop of Paris being then
agitated between the parlement and the clergy, Turgot
wrote (1753) Letters to a Vicar-General on Toleration and
^ pamphlet entitled Le Cow.iliateur, in favour of religious
liberty and against the interference of the temporal power
In theological disputes. In 1753 he became "maltre des
requetes." He discharged his professional duties with
ScrupiUous purity and conscientious industry. He con-
tinued at the same time his studies in ancient and modern
literature (including En^isb and German}, mathematics,
astronomy, chemistry, and natural history, and frequented
the salons of Madame de Graffigny (authoress of Lcs Lcltrcs
Peruviennes), JIadame Gooffrin, and Madame du Deffand.
Whilst he enjoyed the acquaintance and society of D'Alcm-
bert. Baron d'Holbach, Raynal, Marmontel, Morellet,
Galiani, Helvdtius, and other notabilities of the time, he
maintained his intellectual independence and refused to
connect himself with any party or political group. About
this time he also entered into relations with Quesnay and
pournay — the principal members of the physiocrats. He
was attracted to them by the similarity of their sentiments
on social questions and their opinions on economic policy
to those which he himself entertained. Turgot accompanied
Gournay in 1755 and 1756 in his official tours of inspec-
tion as intendant of commerce, and on Gournay's death in
1759 he wrote his £loge. He then made a short visit to
eastern France and a part of Switzerland. When he arrived
at Geneva he went to see Voltaire at Los Dcliccs, and
formed with him what proved to bo a lasting friendship.
He contributed about this period several articles to the
Encyclnpcdie. In 17G1 the controller-general Bertin ap-
pointed him intendant of the gcncralite of Limoges. In
that district the mass of the people were sunk in jioverty
and barbarism ; the corv6es for the construction of roads
and the transport of military equipages were oppressive ;
the country was depopulated by the requisitions for the
militia; the t.-ixation was excessive and unfairly distri-
buted ; the state of the roads was wretched ; and tlio
general condition of agriculture was deplorable. Turgot's
administration of the district lasted for thirteen years, and
was marked by a steady pursuit of the public good, and a
firm resistance to inertia, prejudice, and corruption. In
particular he strongly jnaintaincd the cause of the in-
dustrious poor, and insisted on a more equitable assess-
ment of the public charges which pressed unduly upon
them. With nobly disinterested spirit he refused to be
transferred to other gencraliics in which the salary was
higher and the administration easier. Hising above the
common prejudices of the jihilosophes, he sought the co-
operation of the clergy, both to inform him of everything
relating to the circumstances of the people which it wai
desirable for him to know, and to e.xplain to their flocka
the nature and objects of the measures he proposed to put
in operation ; and he acknowledges that he found in them
earnest and active auxiliaries. But he was not seconded
as he ought to have been by the central Government, and
had often to remonstrate with the Abb6 Terray, minister
of finance. During the scarcity of 1770 and 1771, which
was particularly severe in Limousin, he devoted himself
with untiring assiduity to the relief of the distressed, and,
when he had exhausted such public funds as were avail-
able, incurred for the same object a personal debt of more
than 20,000 livres. Shortly after the accession of Louis
XVI. Turgot was appointed by Maurepas (19th July 1774)
minister of marine, and in that capacity began at once to
initiate important reforms and to conceive far-reaching
projects. IJut he filled the post only for five weeks, being
then (21st August) promoted to the ministry of finance.
In his new ofiice he addressed to the young king a declara-
tion of the principles by which he intended to be guided :
" No bankruptcy, no increase of taxation, and no borrow-
ing." Economy and wise management were to be his only
resources. Fearing the opposition he must encounter, ha
appealed to Louis to support him. By a decree of the
13th September 1774, here-established free trade iu grain
within the kingdom, which had been suspended by Torray,
and authorized the importation of supplies from abroad ;
the traflic in other alimentary substances was also relieved
of many impediments, and various monopolies and exclu-
sive privileges were abolished; the octroi taxation was
reformed, public works promoted, and improvements io
agriculture encouraged. Some of these measures werq
made the pretext for disturbances, known as la guerre dei
fariiies, which Turgot always suspected the Prince do Conti
of having fomented. The riots had to be sujiprcssed by
armed force, and the energetic action of the minister
against them was made a ground of attack by his enemies.
Tlie parlement had been weakly recalled by Louis from
the exile to which in the preceding reign Maupeou had
condemned it. It now conbtitutcd itsqlf the organ of the
resistance of menaced interests to the measures of Turgot,
who would gladly have abolished it, providing in its place
better political securities and courts of justice on a new
plan. In January 177G he presented to the king a memoir
proposing, amongst other things, the abolition of the corvee,
to be replaced by a territorial tax, from which the privileged
classes were not to be exempt, and the suppression of the
jvrandes (exclusive trade corporations). The edicts for
these purposes were submitted to Miromesnil, keejjer of
the seals, a secret enemy of Turgot, who, spurred on by
Maurepas, wrote a memoir against them, and opjjoscd them
in the king's council. The urticrs, the nobility, the
clergy, and the leading members of the industrial ror;)Ora-
tions now combined against the minister, and were joined
by a large )iart of the common iicojilc, who did not under-
stand his policy. The Count dc Provence, afterwards Louis
XVIII., wrote a pamphlet, entitled The Dream of if d'
TURCOT
629
^faurepas, against Turgot. The parlement refused to
register the decrees ; but the king held a lit de justice, which
Voltaire proposed to call a lit de (nen/aisatice, and compelled
the registration. This forced submission only aggravated
the rancour of Turgot's enemies, and the king had not the
firmness to sustain his minister against the coalition. A
\Tle conspiracy having poisoned Louis's mind against him,
he addressed to the king an eloquent letter in which he
pointed out the grave perils impending over the throne
and the state, and warned Louis that princes who are
tempted to give themselves up to the direction of courtiers
should remember the fate of Charles L The minister
received his dismissal on the 12th of May 1776. He had
been in office only twenty months, of which he had lost six
in repressing sedition, and for seven more had been con-
fined to his bed by the gout ; but he had done during his
tenure an extraordinary amount of work. Voltaire, how-
ever, nobly avenged Turgot on his enemies in his Epttre
d -un Homme. The fallen minister devoted his remaining
years to his favourite studies, especially to physical science
and the ancient poets ; he enjoyed the society of Lavoisier,
D'Alembert, Coudorcet, Bossut, Rochon, and Rouelle, and
attended the meetings of the Academy of Inscriptions, of
which he was elected vice-director in 1777 He also cor-
responded with Price and Franklin, and, if we may believe
Condorcet, with Adam Smith, whose acquaintance he had
made at Paris iq 1766.* Turgot died at Paris on 18th
March 1781.
Turgot's official career is for ever memorable in the history of
social iwlitics. Never did a public man ":ive himself to the service
of the eonimunity with more earnest and unselfish devotion. He
made it his object to conviucc before commanding, in order that
his aims mi;;ht be better understood! ami his directions more surely
obeyed ; and, in issuing any instruction, making any decision, or
adWsing any legislative act, he stated fully, by way of preamble,
the gruunds on which he proceeded. In the documents *-hich he
prepared on these occasions we have a body of valuable materials
on administrative and economic questions ; some of them contain
the substance of eliapters in the ll^caltk of A'alions. When he
became minister, the finances were in what seemed a desperate
coniiition, and the general state of affairs justified the prediction of
Louis X\'. — " apres moi le deluge." Turgot framed a v.ist plan of
reform, at once administrative and economic, as the only hope for
the salvation of the state. He speaks of his system of measures as
intended for " the regulation of the kingdom," thus showing that
he contemplated nothing less than a pacific revolution. But the
first condition of success in such an effort was wanting, namely, the
tntire confidence and uul'altering support of the king, and the
energetic exercise of the royal power in carrying out a policy of
thorough reform against all adverse influences.^ iSirgot's straggle,
though it failed from causes independent of himself, cannot be re-
gardcil without profound sympathy and admiration. Nor was it
without a large measure of immediate success. Whilst he scrupu-
lously observed all the pecuniary obligations of the state, he greatly
diminished the crashing deficit which he found on his accession to
office, and re-established the public credit in such a degree that
the Dutch bankers olfered him a loan of sixty millions of livres at
less than 5 per cent. His financial ana other plans, of course, fell
with him, and his most important measures were annulled ; but
his policy and his writings exercised a lasting influence, and many
of hi." projicts were realized by the Revolution. Turgot is alto-
gether one of the most massive and imposing figures of the 18th
century. His whole character and public action are marked by an
air of austere grandeur. Singic-raindedness and veracity were of
the very essence of his nature. Absolutely unbiased by selfish
ends, he lived only for France, for truth, and for his duty. Be-
lieving intensely in a definite system of social and economic princi-
les, which he had early formed by independent study and reflexion,
e was prepared to carry them out with dauntless determination,
* Dugald Stewart, however, cannot find any evidence of a corre-
spondence between Turgot and Smith. It has also been said that
during this period Turgot corresponded with Hume. But little more
than three months intervened between hfs dismissal and the death of
Hume (2oth August 1776) and there appears to be no trace of letters
having passed between them in this interval. They had corresponded,
but at a much earlier date ; see Burton's Life of Hume, ii. 352, 331.
^ Some have thought that the cardinal error in Turgot's policy lay
In bis not having convoked the states -general ; that would, however,
have been simply to opeu the flood-gates.
i;:
and with a lofty contempt for the interested or prejudiced opposi-
tion they were sure to encounter. He haa been accused of a doc*
trinaire rigrdity, and it is possible that, as a practical man. he
wanted flexibility , yet he was oft^n willing, not indeed to disguise
his convictions, but to postpone the realization of his plans, Iq
his public acts he always showed a lively concern for the poor and
the sutTering ; in private life he was humane and benevolent ; in
his relations with his friends, amiable and affectionate. Malesherbe^
the only other minister of his time who was worthy to be his col«
league, said of him that " he had the head of Bacon and'the heart
of L'Hopital," and, on the moral side at least, this was no exagger*
ated estimate.
Possessed of a many-sided culture, Turgot wrote on a great variety
of subjects — philo&ophic, scientific, and literary — though pohtical
economy is the branch of knowledge with which his name musi
always be most closely associated. Already iu 1749, whilst ft
student at St Sulpice, he addressed to his friend, Abbe de Cicc,
aftei-wards bishop of Auxcrre, a Letter wi Paper M(mcy, in which
he asserted, in opposition to the views of Law and his followers,
doctrines similar to tliose now accepted by .nil competent autliorities.
In oue of Ills discourses at the Soibonne in 1750, moving into tlie
higher regions of the philosophy of society, he makes a remarkable
attempt to work out the pregnant conception, already enunciated
by Pascal, of the continuity of the intellectual movement ot our
race, thus preparing the way for Coudorcefs Esqiiisse^ and ulti-
mately for the sociology of Comtc. In 1753 he translated under
the title oi'QucstUms Importantcs SJir Ic Commerce, a tract of Di
Josiah Tucker on the expediency of naturalizing foreigners, Hfl
coutributed to the Encyclopidie the articles ^bjiaotogie, Existerict^
£x]xuisibilitey Fondatioiis^ and Foires el Marches. The first of these
contains much that is just as well as interesting, though in the
time of Turgot the subject could not yet be treated on genuinely
scientific bases. In the second he undertakes a refutation of the
Bcrkclcian theory. The third contains some ingenious suggestions
in practical physics. The article on foundations maintains the
right of the Government to dispose of them for the public good,
suppressing^ them if hurtful, and directing the funds to more useful
objects; tlie policy advocated in it was afterwards carried into
cfl'ect by the constituent assembly. In the paper on fairs and
markets he argues that these are institutions adapted only for an
immature state of commercial relations, and that more good would
be doue by liberating trade from the legislative fetters which every-
where impeded it than by bestowing special privileges or other
encouragements on particular localities as centres of exchange. lo
the £loge of Goumay he combines with his tribute to the memory
of his friend a vindication of tlie principle of industrial freedom,
which that friend had condensed in the oft -repeated maxim,
"Lai^sez faire, laissez passer." To the period of Turgot's in tend-
ance belong his unfinished Valcurs cl Afonnaics, intended to form
an article in the Dictionnaire dc Coinmcrec of Morellet ; his Letters
(to the Abbe Terray) on the Frccd&m of the Coni-Trade ; his memoir
Sur Ics PrUsd'ArgeTii^ in which he insists on the necessity of leaving
free the interest ou loans ; and that on the principles which should
direct legislation respecting mines and quarries, as well as the work
on which his reputation as a systematic economist mainly rests,
namely, his lUjlcxi&ns sur la Formation et la DistribiUion de9
Richcsscs. This treatise was written for two Chinese youths who
had been sent over by the Jesuit missionaries to study in France
The work was first published in 1766 in the £ph6m£rides du Citoj/en^
edited by Dupont de Nemours, and speedily passed through fouf
editions. It gives in brief compass a luminous statement of some
of the most important principles relating to the economic con-
stitution of societies— the division of labour, the origin and use of
money, the nature of capital and the different modes of its employ-
ment, the necessary rise of capitalist chiefs of industry, the legiti-
macy of interest on loans, and the impossibilitj' of arbitmrily fixing
the rate of that interest. It unfortunately contains, along with
many truths, the erroneous doctrines of the physiocrats on the
exclusive productiveness of agriculture and on the consequent pro*
priety of imposing taxes only on the land of a country. This
bfiofc was erroneously represented by Condorcet as "the Mrm of
the IVealtk of Natityns, and has been spoken of by others u
"anticipating some of the leading principles" of Smith. The truth
is, most of what it contains had either been fully set forth by the
earlier economists or was familiar to Qucsnay and his group. It
is, in fact, not a work of research hut of expositioh, and, regarded
in this light, has real originality and may justly be pronounced a
masterpiece.
Fuller information on the life, administrative labours, and writinfrs of Tui-go*
will be found in the foUowing works :— Dupont de Nemours, ^'ous et A.'fmoircl
s^ir la Vie, V Administralion, et les Ovvrages de Turgot, >«•§, and enlarged in his
edition of Turgofs works mentioned below; Condorcet. Vie de Turgot, 17S6I
A. Balhie, Turgot, PkUosophe, Economiste, Administrateur,\o6\: J. Tissot, Turgot^
sa Vu.\son AdministrrUion.ses Outrages (irnemoirccouronne), lSt>2 ; A. Ne\inarck,
Turgot et sfs Doctrines, 1SS5. The last-named contains the most complete treat-
ment of the subject. See also an ^loge by Dupuy (1781) in the Memoires d4
I'Acadimie des Inscriptions et Mles-leitrfs, vol. xlv. ; L. de Lavergne. l£a
l\aynomistts Fran^isau Dix-Huiti^me Slide, 1S70. and Mr. John Morle/s articto
iu hia Critical iJiscttlanics, 2d scries, 1877. A collected edit:oD of Tuj|[oft
630
T U R — T U R
wrningswM piililistieil for tlic first time by Dupont in d vola. (Parid IS0S-11)<
llir iiinst c-nnj'lcte and in pvcry respect best eiiition is tliat rniitaincil in the
Ciiil^lio't rfes /'riiif t/ianj ^Miionistrs uf Ci-qiu-bii aiitl Ouillnuuiin, 2 ^ols., lS^4.
with a bui^mpliical notice liy Eui;cne Dairc. An Enclish translation of The
t'ormttlinti finti liisIrititUtoft n/ H'tatlh was published in Lon-lon in 1 tii:l. aii'l was
■vprnitetl in IS-Sy in Lopl Over>loiif"s ^Ittt Cotlnltun of Scurc£ awl I'^thnd^te
fconnmif"' rr.icla. eililed by J. It MCullodi. (J K.I)
TUIvIN', a city of iiortlicrii Italy, formerly tlie cnpital
of I'lciliiioiit ami the Sardinian stales and now tlie cliief
town of a [iiovincc in llie coniparlimento of I'icdinont, is
sitiiatcil iir^O* 4' 8" N lat. ami 7° 48' 22" E. long, in the
filliiviul valley of tlio Po, just above tlic conducncc of the
Dora Kiparia. By rail it is 54 miles from the Monnt Cenis
tunnel The communal palace stands 7SS feet above the
sea. The Monto dei Cappuccini in the neighbourhood
reaches 922 and Li Supcrga 2405 feet. As viewed from
the cast the city stands out boldly against the Alps. Taken
as a whole Turin may be described as a very modern city,
with broad and regular streets, and large .squares and public
gardens. The cathedral of St John the lia[)tisl is a cruci-
form Itenaissancc building dating from the close of tLe l")ih
century. The site was first occupied by a church erected,
it is said, by the Lombard duke Agilulf (7lh century). Be-
hind the high altar of the cathedral (from which^ it is
separated by a glass screen) is the cha[)el of the Sudario
or Sidone, built (IC571G94) by Guariiii as a royal burial-
place. The "sudario" from which it takes its name is
asserted to be the shroud in wUiclj Joseph of Arimathea
wrapped the body of Jesus. La lleata Vergiiic della Con-
solata, another of Guarini's works, has a tower which
originally belonged to the church of St Andrew, founded by
the monk Bruning in 1014, and attracts attention by Vin-
aaD[ -^^^
□ DDnDimc::::?,^,^
cc-so tec-- "*fL»t:p-''*_'jcaKt
m "
mwQ
i
7.
J □c:2..szzi'cDa!;-
I Ma.lanta palace.
t. [tovat palace.
3. CalliLslral.
i. Uiiiveraity
5, Cariirtiano palace. S Aca.Icniy of art
G |)i CiMa p.tl:i(-c. ti. Mns<-<iiii.
". Acailetny of science. 10 Arseual.
ccnzo Vela's beautiful kneeling statues of Queen Maria
Teresa and Queen Maria Adelaide, as well as by the i;nage
of the Madonna, which has the credit of having warded
off tlic cholera in 1S35. Other churches of some note arc
San I'elippo Neri (1G72-1772), the dome of which fell in
just as it was approaching completiuji under the hands of
Guarini, and La Gran Madre de Dio, erected to commemor-
ate the return of the royal family in 1814. Of the secular
buildings the more interesting are the Madama palace, 6r.-.t
creeled by William of Monlferrat in the close of the 13lh
century, and the extensive royal palace begun in the 17th
century. The university, founded in 1400 by Lodovico di
Acaja, lias faculties of jurisprudence, medicine and surgery,
literature and philosophy, and the mathematical, physical.
and natural sciences. The number of students enrollod
was 2132 in 18SG. About 1876 the old university build-
ings erected in 1713 by the Genoese architect Ilicca began
to prove too small for their purpose, and at the presiirt
time (ISS7) new buildings, filled imiro c.->iiecially for Che
medical and scientific departments, are being erected. The
area of the botanical gardens has al.so been extended and
the oUscrvatory enlarged. The medical sihool derives
advanUtge from ihe number of important ho.spitals in the
city. The royal lunatic asylum can accomnioilalc 980
patients. Turin has a prison on the cell .■system ((172 cclU)
and a female penitentiary for 300, besides two houses of
correction. The academy of sciences was founded in 1757.
It occupies a building erected in 1GS7 by Guarini as a
Jesuit college. The museum of anli(|uitics ami the picture
gallery, of which it has the custody, are both i^f high in-
terest— the former for the. local antiauilies of Picdiuoiit
and Sardinia (notably from Tndustria) and for the h'gyp-
tian treasures collected by Donali and Drovelt , and- the
latter for its Van Dycks. There is a museum of zoology
and mineralogy in the royal palace (another of Guarini's
buildings), and the Caslello palace contains the royal
armoury (a collection made by Charles Albert in 1833) and
the royal library with its rich nianu.script collection and
its 20,000 drawings, among which are sketches by Uaphrel,
Mjchelangelo, and Da Vinci. The civic museum has a
great variety of artistic and literary curiosities, among
them a remarkable collection of autographs aiul the Lom-
bard missal ( I 190). The Jewish synagogue, a striking and
cons[iicuous biiililing, erected in 18G3 by Alessaiulro Anto-
nclli, was iiurchased by the municipality in 1879 for a
Iicnaissancc mu.scuui. Other public in_stilutions are the
Alberlinc academy of the fiiie arts, the geographical society,
and the Alpine club.
Tlic jtnliislries ot Turin anil its siilnirbs give empli»yment to
17,930 persons ( 13.30.'* incii, 403! women). Spinniiixniill-s, we;**-
ing-racloiics. " vcata " lactories (Uu Mctjici), bicwciies, ami irort-
woiks arc .among llic moi-c c.sleiisivc oslablisliiuenls. The coin-
mcicial rcl.itions u( llic cily .aie \cry extensive. It is llic scat of
the central olliees of llic North luliaii K'ailway , aiiJ ihc central
station is one of I'lC most imposing buiUIings of its el.iss in the
coiinliy. TIic mean animal lempcrature al Ttii in (ISOG-S I) is 511*
Falir. (Jan. 30^ July 7-1'"), uitli a ma^iinum ol OC.niiJ a minimviin
of 4^1. Mista .tic lic'iiienl in llie winter iiioniiDgs, ami to a les«
ilc;;rce in autumn. Snow selilom fails in any gicat ipiantity, anJ
on an average only on 7 days per annum. The rain!all. JistiihiileJ
over 100 il.iys, readies 32 inches— Decciribcr being 10 ati-l April
43. \\'aler of good quality is brought to Itic city fioin a 'listance
of 15 miles. Tiie i")pulatioii of Turin wasonlyabuut 4200 in 1377
ami yOuOin 15S0 ; but by ITOiitwas returne.l as 43, SOU. In 1S4S
it h.id risen to 130,849,"aml in 1S61 to 201,715. In spite of the
changes caused by the icmoval of the capital, first to Florence and
then to Kume, Ihc census of ISSl showed 233,124 inliabilanls
(commune 2.">2.S32).
Tunn, Augusta Tnitrinonini^ took Its name from tlic Tauiiui oe
Taurisci, an ancient Ligiirian people. The i.»wn is tiist alluded to
[but not distinctly by name) in the year 2IS n.c, when it uas cap-
tured by lianiiibal alter a three days' siege, being at that time a
place of great sticngllt. A colony of Koman veterans was intro-
duced into the city, possibly after the battle of riiilijipi. or at any
rate aflcr the batlle of Arlium. It was assigned to the Stellaline
tribe Of Koman archilccliire scarcely any ti-ace remains even in
the oldest parts ol Turin, but the arrangciucnt of the slVccIs of tli«
ol.i lown recalls llic alignmcnls of the Koman military selllcmciit
Tlie l'alaz;o dclle due Torri, often designated the I'oila ralatina,
is probably part of a building of llic Stii century. Turin eontiiiueJ
to be a [ilace o( importance and mililary strength under minicious
vicissitudes, lill at length it was inidc liie chief Iomti of I'icdmont
by Aniadeus, first duke of Savoy. Under Kmmanuel ITiilibcrt it
became tlie usual residence of the ducal family, and in 1515 the
bishopric was raised to metropolitan rank by Leo X. Between
153G and 1562 Turin was occupied by the French, ami in 1C30 it
lost 8000 of its citizens by the plague. The French were mastcn
once more from 1G40 to 170C, and again from 1798 till 1S14. when
the Sardinian states were restored to the house of Savoy. Ketwccn
1359 and 1S65 Turin was the eapiul of united Italy Among the
many men of mark born in Tin in it is enough to mention Lagrange,
Gioberti, Cosare lialbo, Cavour, .Marochctii the sculptor, D'Azegli«^
auU Somnicllicr.
631
TURKESTAN
Memirg rpHE terms "Turkestan" and "Central ^Vsia" are often
of term J_ used indiscriminately to describe the whole of the
^^ immense territory to the east of the Caspian, comprised
between Siberia on the north and Khorasan (Persia),
Afghanistan, and Tibet on the south, or to designate
separate, sometimes arbitrarily determined, parts of the
same region. In the beginning of the 19lh century the
whole of the territory just named, with its great variety
of altitudes, climate, inhabitants — these last dilTcring as
much in their history as in their present characteristics — •
was comprised under tho vague denomination of High
Tartary, or High or Interior Asix After the appearance
of Humboldts first draft oi Asie Cfritiale in 1831, the term
"Central Asia "came into favour. But Humlioldl's limits
of Central Asia were too mathematical (from 391° to 491°
N. lat.), and were further unsatisfactory because inBuenced
by his erroneous conception of the mountains of Central
Asia, which he supposed to run either along parallels or
along meridians. Richlhofen made an attcm['t to limit
the sense of the term, proix)sing to apply it only to that
region — embracing the Tarim drainage area and the Gobi
— which has no outlet either towards the ocean or to
the Sea of ^Vral and Lake Balkash (Balkhash), and which
constitutes the Hang-hai of the Chinese and the supposed
bed of the Tertiary Asiatic Mediterranean. But this ter-
minology, besides the drawback of including within Cmtral
Asia the steppes of the Gobi as far east as Transbaikalia
and the Great Khingan, notwithstanding the broad difTer-
ences by which they are distinguished from the drainage
area of the Tarim, was open to another objection, which
has been pointed out in M. MusliketofTs TurkcMan. It
excluded from Central Asia Turkestan ]iropcr, which never-
theless has had the same recent geological history as the
Tarim region, and therefore Las so many features in com-
mon with it as regards soil, climate, flora, fauna, popula-
tion, and even civil history. On the other hand, if Central
or Interior Asia were to include West Turkestan, and its
limits to be determined by those of the drainage-areas
which have no outlet to the oce«n. the basins of the Volga
and UraL — that is, territories purely European in charac-
ter,— would have to be comjiriscd under the same denomi-
nation. The fact is that in Asia, as so- often elsewhere,
hydrographical considerations alone furnish no sound basis
for geographical delimitations, and that these last must
result from a complicated variety of considerations, chiefly
orographieal, inasmuch as orographical are indicative of
other physical characters, such as geology, climate, flora,
- fauna, and so on. Such were the views of liittcr and Hum-
boldt, and we are now brought back to their conceptions,
but corrected into accordance with imjirovcd knowledge of
the Asiatic continent. The name Central Asia can still be
used with great advantage to designate that immense por-
tion of the continent to the east of the Casjjian and the
Ust-Urt plateau which is limited on the north by the im-
portant climatic and geo-botanic boundary of the Irtish
and Aral water-parting and the Great or Ektagh Altai, on
the east by the eastern Gfibi, ar.d on the south by the
northern border of the Khor plateau (.Attyn-Tagh and
Kuen-Lun), the Hindu- Ku.-^h, and the Kopet-Dagh. Ex-
tensive as it is, this territory hx^ its own climatic and gco-
botanic features ; it forms a distinct part of the continent,
when the orography of Asia is broadly viewed ; and its
inhabitant-s have a number of common characteristics re-
sulting directly from the physical features of the territory.
But this immense area must be subdivided ; and its sub-
divisions become apparent as soon as the orographical
features are grasped.
Two great plateaus constitute the two backbones, as itCreai
were, of the orographical structure of Asia, — that of east- Asmtk
ern Asia, an immense triangle stretching n9rth-castwards, l''^'^"*
having the Himalayas for its base and 'he j-"->insula of
the Tchuktchis for its apex; and that of wcotorn Asia,
which extends at right angles to the above, from the lower
Indus to the Black Sea. The Hindu-Kush connects these
two massive swellings, both continents of the oldest forma-
tion in Asia. Both are fringed on their northern edges
by lofty chains of mountains. The Tian-Shan, the Altai
tho Sayan, and the Vitim Mountains rise in a long succes
sion on the borders of the former, while a series of chains,
which might be described under the general name oi
Kopet-Dagh, continued into the Traijscaucasian chains,
rise on the north-eastern edge of the western plateau.
An immense trapezoidal depression occupies the angle West
on the west where the great plateaus meet, and this de- Turb-
pression is West Turkestan. Its south-eastern limits are^'*"'
the Ilindu-Kush and the Tian-Shan; on its south-western
edge it has the Irania^i plateau ; and its north-west and
north-east boundaries correspond with the edge of the Ust
Urtand the Irtish and Aral water-parting, which separates
it from Siberia. The trapezium is 1100 miles long from
south-west to north-<aist, and 900 miles wide from south-
cast to north-west. It thus includes, not only the depres-
sion at the junction of the two plateaus, but also the girdle
of alpine tracts which fringes them, and in whose deep
and sheltered valleys the Turkish and partly Iranian popu-
lation of Turkestan find a fertile soil and plenty of water
for their fields, while their herds graze on the rich alpine
meadows in the very heart of the Tian-Shan. Not oro-
graphically only but also in respect of its recent geological
past, its climate, flora, fauna, and inhabitants, this region
forms a" geographical domain by itself, quite distinct from
the ste[)i)es of south-eastern Russia, the prairies of Siberia,
and the two great plateaus by which it is inclosed ; and,
although it is easily subdivided into two parts — tho dry
lowlands of the Transcaspian depression and the plains
and highlands of Turkestan proper — it presents one geo-
graphical whole when contrasted with the surrounding
regions. Some doubt may arise as to the propriety of
including in it. the plateau of Pamir; but its flora and
fauna are so closely connected with those of the Tian-Shan
that, although better treated as a sejarate sub-region, like
the Transcaspian Turcoman steppes, it cannot be separated
from the above. For the orographer, the " Roof of the
World " is merely a succession of the wide si/rls or alpine
])latcaus that are characteristic of the Tian-Shan. Most
of this territory has within recent years been annexed to
the Russian empire. Bokhara, with its vassal khanates in
the gorges of the Pamir slopes, and Khiva, although they
are still described as independent, are in reality rapidly
becoming dependencies of Russia, and the railway from
the Caspian, which is about to connect Merv with Samar-
kand, will complete the annexation of Bokhara. West
Turkestan, therefore, is often called Russian Turkestan, as
distinguished from Chinese or East Turkestan.
This second great region of Central .^sia also has well- East
defined limits. A glance at any recent map shows that T"^
there is in the great eastern plateau a depression bordered
by the deep slopes of the Pamir (Humboldt's Bolor) ou
the W., the border-ridges of Tibet (Kucn-Lun <«d .\ttyD-
Tagh) on the S., the eastern Tian-.?han on the N.. and the
we-^tern Gobi on the E ' Although we call it a <^epression,
* In the map (u^sued October 18S7) etiibodyiog the rtsulLs of lYje-
valiky's fourtli journey, East Turkestan is pL-unly demarcateil from Uie '
Gobi. Tliis last falls by a steep slope towards the Tarim depressiop
632
TURKESTAN
(west
betause it Is much lower than the surrounding plateaus,
it is itself a ))latcau, ranging from 3C00 to 4000 feet above
tea-level. This depression — tlie Hang-hai of the Chinese,
which, during the later Tertiary and earlier Quaternary
period, was covered by a sea, of which a very small sur-
vival still exists in Lob-Nor — is now drained by the Tarim.
Its deserts, in which human settlements are now very rare,
though formerly the population was much denser, have
been described under a variety of names (Little Bokhara,
AJty-shar or Jity-shar, Kashgaria, and so on); but the name
•Ct East Turkestan has prevailed, and there is no reason for
Abandoning it, proWded it is not confounded with DzuN
Oaria (i-v.) in the north and the great Desert of Gobi in
the east. Dzungaria is a deep trencU leading from the
lowlands to the central plateau, and has special pliysical
Oeneral
Physical
catures,
features and a history of its own. The Mongolian Gobi,
on the other han,d, owing to its position on the lowci
terrace of the plateau of eastern Asia, must be regarded
as a separate unity. In fact, it appears to be more closet^
connected with the plateau of the Selenga on the north
and that of Ordos on the south than with East Turkestan ;
and it, too, has its own physical features, its own inhabit-
ants, and its own history.
The expression Central Asia thus includes the following
countries. (A) West Turkestan, comprising the Tian-Slian
highlands, the Balkash plains, and the Aral-Caspian low-
lands, politically divided into Russian Turkestan (the
general-governorship of Turkestan and the Aral-Caspian
slope of Turgai and Akmolinsk), the Chinese oasis of Kulja
(Kuldja), the Transcaspian region, Khiva, Bokhara and
Map of t^t auJ
its va-ssal khanates, and parts of Afghan Turkestan. (B)
East Turkestan, comprising the Tarim region as far cast
as Lob-Nor. (C) Dzungaria, limited on the north-east by
the Tarbagatai, Altai-Nauru, Irdyn-ula, and Artsa-bogdo
Mountains.
West Tctrkestan
As comprised within the above limits. West Turkestan
has an area of nearly 1,080,000 square miles, and a
population of nearly 8,500,000.^ It presents a very great
variety of aspects, including the lonely [ilateau of Pamir,
ftrliich iiritTows to Ihe ea-st of Lob-Nor auj terniiualci alx)ut Aii-si.
60lnc 4S00 feel above sca-lcvcl.
• See also Ibe following maps :— IIimalaTa, vol. xL PI. XVI.;
SiSFRiA, vol. »xii. PI. I.; an.l Tiurr, HI. IV. above.
* Separate porlioiis of it are dcv;nbcd umkr AreHiNISTAN, BoK-
I1*BA, KlIIV.l, OSIS, Svtl-DiRlA, Semipalatinsk, Semiryetchbksk,
tTBANscAsriAN Reuiox, ZeRaKSUA!).
West Turkestan.'
in height second only to that of Tibet , the immense com-
plex of alpine tracts described under the general name of
Tian-Shan (three times as long as the Alps of Europe), which
lift their snow-clad peaks four and nearly five miles above
the sea, and feed huge glaciers, while their deep valleys
and gorges partake of almost every variety of climate and
vegetation ; rich prairies and s^ill wider lowlands descend-
ing below the level of the ocean ; and deserts where the
winds, burning hot or icy, but always dry, have free scope
to modify the surface, which is bare of vegetation.
Nevertheless West Turkestan is sharply divided into two Iligblan.!
p^rts, — the highlands in the south-east and the plains and f**""
deserts in the north-west. The former cover an area nearly
1000 miles long by 270 broad, of which the northern parts
are described under the general name of Tian-Shan (pro-
perly, T'ban-Shaii). Their distinctive feature is that, like
the highlands of Siberia, they constitute a high border-
W«ST.]
TURKESTAN
633
ridge, running W.S.W. to E.N.E. on the edge of the great
plateau of eastern Asia. This plateau is fringed on its
outer side by a complex of shorter ranges, which mostly
run parallel to the border-ridges and send off a series of
isolated chains, due to a later system of upheaval, through
the plains and steppes in a north-western direction. Down
to the middle of the 1 9th century these highlands were
almost absolutely unknown, and the orography of Central
Asia as shown on our maps was quite hj-pothetical. Numer-
ous surveys by Russian and British ejiplorers have, how-
ever, recently disclosed the real structure of those regions ;
and it has now become possible to discriminate the leading
features of the orographical conformation of the country.
The Hindu-Kush, with its snow-clad summits of 18,000
and 20,000 feet, limits the highlands of Turkestan to the
south-east. It appears now to be settled that this ridge
runs from north-east to south-west, as far at least as the
latitude of Cabul, and possibly still farther south ; and
the last Russian surveys of the Pamir show that it extends
north-east as far as Tash-Kurgan (37° 45' N. lat., 75° E.
long.). At the foot of its northwestern slope it has the
Pimir plateau of Pamir — the "Roof of the World," — with an area
pUteitt of about 37,000 square miles. A series of chains, gently
sloping and dome-shaped, rising 4000 or 5000 feet above
the level of the plateau, traverse it from south-west to
north-east, with a remarkable parallelism, dividing it into
a series of broad parallel flat-bottomed grooves or valleys,
which do not sink below 10,000, and sometimes 14,000,
feet above sea-level. Thus the features of the lower plateaus
of north-eastern Asia reappear here on a greater scale, hav-
ing the same characters and the same direction in the
plaitings of the earth's crust.
Nearly 150 miles to the north-west of the Hindu-Kush
lies the north-western border of the Pamir, fringed by the
lofty Trans-Atai Mountains. Their crest, covered with
snow, rises nearly 4 miles above the sea (Kaufmann Peak
23,000 feet) ; but the traveller approaching them from
the south would hardly guess their height, because their
southern slope towards the wildernesses of the plateau,
themselves 13,000 feet high, is very gentle. The great
elevation of the border-chain is only realized when it is
seen from the Atai valley on the north, where its steep and
deeply furrowed sides tower up like a dark wall, from
11,000 to 14,000 feet high, above the high and broad valley
of the Kizil-su. The geological structure of the Atai
ralley must not be inferred from its orographical features,
otherwise we should describe it as longitudinal. It is
watered by the Kizil-su, which flows towards the west-
south-west and joins the Amu-Daria under the name of
Vaksh (or Wakhsh). On the north it has the lofty Atai-
. Tagb range, also partially snow-clad. On our best maps
the Trans-Afai Mountains are figured as an isolated range,
some 120 miles in length; and it cannot yet be affirmed
with certainty which chains of the Tian-Shan, possessing
the same border-ridge characters, ought to be considered as
its continiations. Further research is needed to determine
whether it is continued south-west by the Darvaz, or Lahor,
Mountains, where the group of lofty Seltau peaks feed the
extensive Fedtchenko glacier, or by the Hoja-Mahomet
chain on the left bank of the Amu-Daria.i Thus the real
north-western limits of the Pamir are still unsettled.
As for the north-eastern continuations of the Trans-Atai,
the present writer is inclined to trace them, not ia the
Kokshat-tau, but in the Terskei Ala-tau and the high
mountains of Sary-yassy, where the Khan-Tengri lifts its
snow-clad granitic cap 24,000 feet above the sea, and is
surrounded By numerous vast glaciers (SemenoS's and
Mushketoffs Muz-art). It would thus separate, broadly
speaking, the drainage area of the Tarim from those of
SeeO. Grum-Grzimailo, in Imeslia of Russ. Geog. Soc, TOl.nii.,1886.
23- -ii*
Lake Balkash and the Sea of Aral. Thus the border-ridge *
of the Central Asian plateau would have a length of more
than 1000 miles from the Amu to Kulja, and the valleys of
the upper Naryn and Tekkes would therefore be homologous
with that of the Atai.
A girdle of alpine tracts, from 150 to ISO miles in Alpine
width, which fringes the outer edge of the Pamir plateau, 'rao**
consists of shorter chains running parallel to the border
ridge and ranging from 11,000 to 17,000 and 20,000 feet
in altitude. They are separated by deep valleys, mostly
with three separate foldings of Azoic rocks. Some of these
ranges are covered with perennial snow and feed great
glaciers, among which Schurovsky and Fedtchenko glaciers
around the lofty Kok-su group are especially worthy of
mention. These subsidiary chains all belong to the oldest
system of upheavals, which have had a north-east direction,
and which at four different places are modified by more
modern ones having a north-western direction. In lat. 47'
N. the orographical structure becomes more complicated,
the alpine region being pierced by the broad Dzungarian
trench, which leads from the lowlands of the Irtish to the
heights of the Central Asian plateau. A high ridge — the
Tarbagatai — continued in the Tchinghiz (Jinghiz) and
Karkaraliosk Mountains, branches off north-westwards,
separating Turkestan from Siberia. Further east the Tian^
Shan is continued on our maps in an eastern direction ; but
our knowledge of it still remains very imperfect.-
A series of deep depressions, — Balkh, Ferghana, Issyk- Lacus.
kul, and Kulja, — sinking to low levels amidst the Tian-Shan t"°^
highlands follow one another in a north-east direction. That -^^
of Issyk-kul is occupied by the lake of the same name shan
(5000 feet above the sea), while the second and fourth, now
desiccated, are lacustrine basins. A great number of
smaller lacustrine basins, mostly filled with Tertiary con-
glomerates, occur higher up in the mountains. For tht
orographer and the geologist they are homologous with those
of the Altai and east Siberia (Bukhtarma, Us, Irkut, Bar-
guzin, and others). The rivers that issued from the high
alps had to pierce many parallel ridges in order to reach
the plains, and they- frequently expanded into wide lakes
before cleaving through the chains of mountains the narrow
and deep transverse gorges by which they descended to the
lower terraces.
Like the highlands of Siberia, those of Turkestan are Lowland
fringed by a girdle of plains, having an altitude of from plaiaa
1000 to 1500 feet, and these again are skirted by an im-
mense lowland area reaching only 400, 300, and 150 feet,
or even sinking below the level of the ocean. These plains
and lowlands cover nearly 650,000 square miles. Some
geographers divide them into two portions, — the higher
plains of the Balkash (the AJa-kul and Balkash drainage
areas) and the Aral-Caspian depression, which occupies
nearly two-thirds of the whole and has been ably described
by M. Mushketoff under the appropriate name of Turanian
basin, — the Kara^tau Mountains being considered as the
dividing line between the two. The Balkash plains, more
than 1000 feet above the sea, and covered %vith clay, with
a girdle of loess at their foot, are well watered by the Hi
and other feeders of Lake Balkash (see Semirvetchensk)
and on their rich prairies are the homes of numerous
Kirghiz. In the south-west the clayey soil becomes
saline. There is the Famine steppe (Bek-pak-data), while
in the Ak-kum steppe, which surrounds Lake Kara-kul,
large areas are covered with sands, partly shifting. A
gulf of clayey plains penetrates up the 111 into the'in-
^ The present writer is inclined to consider the " Eastern Tian-Shan "
of our maps, which runs east-south-east to Bagratch-kul, as a separat*
chain belonging to the more modem system of north-western upheavala^
meeting at its eastern extremity a chain which trends towards the
north-east.
XXIII. — So
634
TURKESTAN
[WBST.
tion of
West
Turk-
terior of the mountains, and iU thick layers of loess form
the Kuija oasis. Another gulf, penetrating much more
deeply into the highlands up the trench occupied by Lakes
Ebi-Nor and Ayar, and joining the trench of the upper
Irtish, leads by an imperceptible gradient up to the plateau
of Central Asia. It is known as the " Dzungarian Gate,"
and a gate it has been since the dawn of history for whole
nations of nomads who have migrated from the rapidly
desiccating plateau down to the grassy prairies of Siberia
and Russia. The plains and lowlands of the Turanian
basin are subdivided by a line drawn from north-east to
Bouth-west along a slight range of hills running from the
sources of the Ishim towards the south-east corner of the
Caspian (Bujnurd and Elburz edge of Khorasan). This
low range, which most probably separated the lowlands of
the Aral-Caspian region (submerged during the Post-Plio-
cene period) from the higher plains which had emerged by
the end of the Tertiary period, now divides the Transcas-
pian steppes from the somewhat different higher plains
(see Transcaspian Region). In the Turanian basin the
contrast between desert and oasis is much stronger than
in the Balkash region. Fertile 'soil, or rather soil which
can be rendered fertile by irrigation, is limited to a narrow
terrace of loess along the foot of the mountains (see Syr-
Dabia), and is surrounded by barren deserts. Even where
the loess spreads over terraces at some distance from the
mountains, as in the south-east Transcsrpian region, it can
le cultivated only when irrigated. The dryness of the
climate is excessive : rain falls only where the hills cause
the clouds to condense, the soil elsewhere being moistened
only occasionally by a fny showers. Two rivers only —
the Syr and the Amu — succeed in crossing the desert and
reaching the Sea of Aral. But their former tributaries no
longer run their full course: the glacier-fed Zerafshan dries
up amidst the gardens of Bokhara soon after emerging
from the highlands ; and the Tejen, the Murghab, and the
Andkho lose themselves amidst the fields of the Turcomans.
The o;ily tributaries which the Amu retains are those which
have the whole of their course in the highlands. In the
north such formerly important tributaries of the Syr-Daria
as the Tchu, with its subti*utary the Sary-su, now dry
up some hundreds of miles distant from the main stream.
The arid desert absorbsevery drop of running water which
reaches its borders.
The whole area is now undergoing geological changes on
a vast scale. Rivers have changed their courses, and lakes
their outlines. Far away from their present shores the
geologist finds indubitable traces of the recent presence
of the lakes in the shells they have left amidst the sands.
Traces of former rivers and channels, which were the main
arteries of prosperous regions within the period of written
history, have now disappeared. Of the highly developed
civilizations which grew up and flourished in Bactriana,
Bokhara, and Samarkand the last traces are now under-
going rapid obliteration with the desiccation of the rivets
and lakes. The great " Blue Sea " of CentraLAsia, the Sea
of "Aral, which at a recent epoch (Post-Glacial) extended
south-west to Sary-kamysh, and the shells of which are
found north and east of its present shores from 50 to 200
feet above its present level (1G2 feet above the ocean, and
24.') above the Caspian), now occupies but a small portion
of its former extent. It covers a shallow depression, some
23,000 sijuare miles in area, which is drying up with as-
tonishing rapidity, so that the process of desiccation can
be shown on surveys separated only by intervals of ten
years; large parts of it, like Gulf Aibughir, have' dried up
since the Russians took possession of its shores. Steamers
regularly ply on its waters and ascend both its tributaries.
The whole country is dotted with lakes, which are rapidly
disappearing under the hot winds of the deserts j and the
clayey takyrs of the steppes give evidence of thousands of
lakes which have quite recently ceased to exist, leaving
beds of clay kept wet by the condensed moisture of winter
and the few rain-showers of early spring.
Like the highlands of eastern Asia, those of Turkestan arc mostly GwlOgJ
built up of Azoic gneisses and nictaniorphic slates, resting upon
granites, syenites, old^orthoclase porphyries, and the like. Theso
upheavals date from the remotest geological ages ; and sin^e tho
Primary epoch a triangular continent having its apex turned to-
wards the north-east, as Africa and America have theirs [Ktinting
southward, rose in the middle of what now constitutes Asia. It is
only in the outer foldings of the highlands that Primary fossiliferous
deifoslts arc found, — Devonian, Carboniferous, and Permo-Carbonic.
Within tliat period the principal valleys were excavated, and their
lower parts liavc been filled up subsctiuently with .Furassic, Creta
ceous, and Tertiary deposits. One of the most striking instances of
this is the very thick Cretaceous and Tertiary deposits which cover
the bottom of tho valley of the Vaksh (right tribi-tary of the Amu)
and are continued for about 300 miles to the north-east, as far as
the Atai valley, — probably along the edge of the Pamir plateau.
The deposits of the Secondary perioU have not maintained their hori-
zontal position. While upheavals having a north-eastern strike
continued to take place after the Carboniferous epoch,* another series
of upheavals, having a north-western strike, and occasioned by the
expansion of diabases, dolerit«s, melaphyres, and andcsites. occurred
later, subsequently at least to the close of the Tertiary period, if not
also before it, dislocating fonner chains and raising rocks to the
highest levels by the addition of new upheavals to the older ones.
Throughout the Triassic and Jurassic periods nearly 111 Turkestan
remained a continent indented by gulfs and lagoons of the south
European Triassic and Jurassic sea. loimense fresh-water lakes,
in which were deposited layers of plants {now yielding coal), filled
up the de|>rcs3ions of the country. Cretaceous and Tertiary deposits
occur extensively along the edge of the highlands. Upi»er and
Middle Cretaceous, containing phosphates, gyi>snm, naphtha, sul- '
phur, and alum, attain thicknesses of 2000 and 5000 feet in Hissar.
Representatives of all the Tertiary . /rmations are met with in Turk*
estau ; but, whiJe in the highlands the strata are coast -deposits,
they assume an open sea character in the lowlands, and their rich
fossil fauna furnishes evidence of the grailual shallowing of that sea,
until at last, after the Sarmathian period, it became a closed Medi* ^
ternincan. During the Post-Pliocene period this sea broke up into
several jwirts, united by narrow straits. The connexion of Lake
Balkash with the Sea of Aral can hardly be doubteil ; but this por-
tion of the great sea was the first to l>e divided. While the Sea of
Aral remained in connexion with the Caspian, the desiccation of
the L.3ke tJalka.sh ba^in, and its break-up into smaller separate
basins, were already going on. The Quaternary epoch is repre*
.seuted by vast morainic de[H>sits in the valleys of the Tian-Shan.
About Khan-Tengri glaciers descended to a level of €800 feet above
the sea,' and discliargcd into the wide open valleys or syrts. It \a-
most probable that, when allowance has been made for the oblitera-
tion of glacial markings, aud the region has been bettor explored, it
will appear that the glaciatiou of Turkestan was on a scale at Ic.ist as
vast as that of the Himalayas. In the lowlands the Aral-Caspian de-
posits, which it is difficult to separate sharply from the later Tertiary,
cover the whole of the area. They contain shells of molluscs now
inhabiting the Sea of Aral, and in their petrographical features are
exactly like those of the lower Volga. Tlie limits of the Post- Pliocene
Aral-Caspian sea have not yet been fully traced. It extended some
200 miles north and more than 90 miles east of the present Aral
shores. A narrow strait connected it with Lake Balkash. Tlie Ust- ;
Urt plateau and the Mugojar Mountains (sec ToitoAi) prevented j
it from s)'reading north-westward, and a narrow chaimel connected'
it along the Uzboi (sec p. 512 ^ijn-a) with the Caspian, which sent
a broad gulf to the east, spread up to Volga, and was connected by
the Manytch with the ISIack Sea basin. (.Ireat interest, geological
and historical, thus attaches to the recent changes undergone by
this basin ; but much still remains to be done before the numerous
ouestions arising in connexion with it can be seltled. Since the
tneory of geological cataclysms was abandoned, and that of slow
modifications of the crust of the earth accepted, new data have been
obtained in the Aral-Caspian region to show that the rate of tTiodi-
fication after the close of the Glacial period, although stilt very
slow, was faster than had been supimscd frnni the evidence of similar
changes now going on in Europe and America. The ellerts ]iroiluccd
by desiccating agencies are beyond all comparison more powerful
than those which result from the earthquakes that are so frecpient in
Turkestan. All along the base of the liighhinds, from Khojend to
Vycriiyi, earthquakes are frequent ;* hut, however destructive of
life, their elTecLs lie beyond the scope of our olisei vntional methods.
' Mushketoll's Turkestan (pp.35, 6817 seems to justify this cob.
olusioD.
' See I. Ignatieff, in Izvatia of Russ. Ceogr. Soc., vol. xxiii., 1S87.
' For a list of them, see Izvcsltaoi Riiss. Gcogr. Soc., vol. xxiii., 1887 J
also Orloff, in Mem. of Kazan A'dturulists, 1873, iii.
WIST.]
TURKESTAN
635
The climate of West Turkestan is exceedingly dry and con*
tineutal. Although the country is comprised within the lati-
tudes of Sicily and I^ODS, it has a south Norwegian January and
I Persian aiunmer. Temperatures of more than 100*" Fahr. in the
ihade are common, and the heat is rendered still more unbearable
by the reflexion from a soil destitute of vegetation. Thti winter is
for the most part so cold that the average t2mperature of January
is below the freezing point, and even reaches 0 Fahr. Snow falls
lor several months on the lower Syr-Daria, and, wero it not blown
away by the winds, sledge-coramnnication would be possible. This
river is frozen for an average of 123 days every year in its lower
p&rts, and nearly 100 days at Perovsk. AtTashkend there is snow
during two months ana temperatures of - 10* Fahr. have been
measured. In 1876, on 24th October, almond-trees, vines, and
cotton crops were burieU under a hea\'y snowfall. To the south of
Khojend the winter becomes more clement. Absence of rain is
the distinctive feature of the climate. Although it rains and snows
heanly on the ruountains, only 11 inches of rain and snow fall
throughout the year at Tashkend, at the base of the highlands;
ftnd the steppes of the lower Aniu have le^s than 3 inches. A few
•howers are all that fall from the almotit invariably cloudless sky
tbove the Transc&spian steppes. The following table will illus-
trate the climate of Turkestan :— -
LaH-
lude.
Height
in fi-t'L
Average tcniperBture.
BaiD in
inches.
Ye»r.
JaDuary
July.
AJtmclinsk
SeiuipaUtliuk
Ir^hiz
IS- 37-
45- ty
W 33'
43' 61'
4-2" 2T
ii-sy
41* ly
40-00'
34-21'
lOM
6110
300
ICO
-30
2100
215
3i5
HSO
-70
4120
28- -8
2T-0
21- S
45-5
51-2
43-7
53-0
65- -0
5S-3
59--8
54-2
0-0
-0-7
3-4
10- (3
25-0
14-4
19-4
29-'0
36-3
21" -2
69-2
72- -5
76-2
78-0
78-0
76--5
79-^
77-5
83--2
81-7
92
-■7
61
79
2-9
24
11-3
AleUDdrOTsk
KuUa
Nukus
Petro AJex:iDdrovst
Tishkeod
Ensnovolsk
yarkana(EastTur.). .
tSUi. The fauna of Turkestan belongs to the great zoo-geographical
doroain of northern Asia, ami is only dilTcrentiateJ by the presence
of species which have ilisap(»carcJ from the perii>lieric parts of the
Old World and now find a refuge in the remotest regions of th'e
uninhabited plateau. From tho great Palieoarctic region it is
distinguished by the presence of Himalayan species. The distinct-
ive animal of the Pamir plateau is the magnificent Ovis poli {con*
jectuiod to be the ancestor of our coramoa shcci*). mentioned by
Marco Polo and rediscovered by Syevertsolf. It brccils by thousands
M the Pamir, climbing the highest riilgcs, which it prefers to the
ralleys. Tlie region to which it is coiitincd has the shujic of an
ellipse, with its longer a.vis running south-west to north-east The
auimal is rare on the upjier Xaryn, and never penetrates to -the
west of Sel-su. In the alpine tracts of the Tian-Shan, on the
borders of the Pamir, their horns and skulls are frequently met
irith, but there the place of the species is now taken by Ovis karelini.
The wild horse, which occurred in Poland a few centuries ago, has
been discovered by Prejevalsky in the highlands of D^uiigaria and
described as Eqiius prjrvalskii by PoIyakolT. The wild camel in-
habits the lonely plateaus south of the Ala-Shan ; but no descrip-
tion of it has been pvibhshed. The other mammals of Turkestan
are mostly those which are met with elsewhere in north Asia. The
large light. coloured Himalayan bear {Uryiis isabcUinns) has its
home on the Pamir, and the smaller, strong, wlutc-clawed Lcnconyx
up to the highest levels on the Tian-SIian. Antelopes, Lcpiis
lehmanni, Lngomys rutilus, various sjiecies of ArvUola^, and the
Himalayan long-tailed marmot [Arctcnnys caudalic^), the most char-
acteristic inhabitant of the alpine mea»-lows, are the only mammals
•f the Pamir proper. In the alpine region are found the ba<lger
\^flis Inxtis), the ermine {Fattorius erminciis) and six other ^fus■
ielidx, the wild dog {Cani3 alpinus\ the common and the black-
eared fox [C. in^lanotis), while the corsac fox {C. corsac) is met with
only on the plains. Two species of lynx, the cheetah {Felis jubata),
Fdis TTianut, and Felis irbis, this last extending westwards as far
■s the Pereian Gulf and eastwards as far as the river Amur, must
be added to the above. The tiger is met with pnly on the
lower Amu-Daria, except w-hen it wanders to the alpine region in
pursuit of the maral deer [Cervjts vtaral). The jackal is charac-
teristic of the steppes ; it banishes the wolves and foxes. Hares
are represented by several species, Lcyus It:h>n/nini being the most
eharacteristia lioth the common and the long-tailed marmot (A.
haibacini/s and A. caudntns) are found at the foot of the mountains,
as also four s[iecies of Spcrmophiliis, three of voles, two of the
mouse, and three of the hamster. The Akriones (four species) and
the jerboa (five si>ecies) arc only met with in the steppe region.
Of ruminants, besides the sheep {0. poli, 0. karelini, O jiigrimoittana,
O. hiinsii), we find one mufTIon (j^fusivton vignci), formerly known
only in the Himalayas, the Chinese antelope (.-(WiVci^xi suhgulturosa)
and the saiga anteloi>e in the stepjies, the Siberian ibex ami another
goat, the yak, the zebu or Indian ox, the common ox, the camel,
and the dromedary. The wild boar is common in the reed thicket*
along tho rivers and lakes, where it sUys during the winter,
migrating to tho highlands in summer. The hedgehog and porcu-
pine are common in the plains.
It would be impossible to describe in a few words the avifauna.
No fewer than 385 species are recorded, most of them being middle-
European and Mediterranean. A large niimberwere formerly known
only in the Himalayas, or in Persia, while others have their origin
in cast Asia. The commonest are mostly European acquaintances.
As for the very rich insect fauna, of which full descriptions are
now accessible, it is worthy of note that among the Ltpidoptcra of
the Pamir there is an interesting mixture of Tian Shan with
Himalayan species. M. Crum-Griiraailo found on the Pamir the
Culias luistis, a species characteristic of Labrador and Lapland ;
like the alpine plants nluch bear witness to a Glacial period
flora in the Himalayas, this butterfly is a survival of the Glacial
period fauna of the Pamir.'
As a whole the flora of Turkestan belongs to that of Central Asia, Flor*
which WAS formerly continued by geo botanists as far west- as the
steppes of Russia, but which must now be considered as a sencrato
region subdivided into two,— the Central Asian proper and that of
the Gobi. It has its own habitus, notwithstanding the number
of species it has in common with Siberia and south-east Rus.sia on
the one hand and with the Himalayas on the other, and this Imbitut
is due to the <lryness of the climate and the consequent change*
undergone by the soil Towards the end of the Glacial period the
Tian-Shan Mountains had a flora very like thatof northern Cauca.iiis,
combining the characters of the floras of the European Alps and the
Altai, while the prairies had a flora very much like that of the
south Russian steppes. During the Stone Age the human inhabit-
ants lived in forests of maple, white beech, and ajiple trees. Dut
the gradual desiccation of the country resulted in the immigration
from the Central Asian plateau of such species as could adapt them-
selves to the dry climate and sod, in the disapi«arance of European
and Altaic species from all drier parts of the region, in the survival
of steppe species, and in the adaptation of many of the existing
species to the needs of an arid and extreme climate and a saline soil!*
At present the flora of Turkestan has a variety of characters, depend-
ing on the various physical aspects of the separate regions, the
Pamir vegetation and that of the Aral-Caspian steppes constituting
two types with numberless intermediate gradations.
There is no arboreal vegetation on the Pamir, except a few
willows and tamarisks along the rivers. Mountain and valley
alike are covered with soft carpets of grats, various species of
Fcsluca predominating almost to the exclusion of all others. In
the imme-iiate vicinity of water the ryang {Carex physoidcs) grows,
and a few patches are covered with Allium. To these may be
added a few Ranunculacese, .some Myosotis, low Scabiosx, the commob
Taraxacum, one species of Cham&milla, and a few Lcguminosx. In
the north and west the Stipa of the Russian steppes supersedes
Fesluca and afl'ords splendid pasture for the herds of the Kara-
Kirghiz. In the gorges and on the better-watered slopes of the
mountains the herbaceous vegetation becomes decidedly rich. Be-
sides the above-named there are many other Gramincei, such as
the beautiful Lasiagroslis spUndens, and whole seas of Scabiosm.
Eremurus, of a variety of colours and 6 to 7 feet in height, forms
thickets along with the tall Seorodosma falida. The northern
slofies of the Atai chain are richer in trees. Up to 12,000 feet full-
grown specimens occur of the arkha (Junipcrus psnuio- Sahina),
characteristic of the whole northern slopes of the Turkestan high-
lands, the poplar, a very few birches (B. Sogdiana). and a rich
ufidcrwood of shrubs familiar in European gardens, such as Hhodo-
denilron chrysanthum, Sortnis auciiparia {Tov:!in), Berberis hcteropoda
(berberry), Lvnicera Tatarica (honeysuckle), and Craleegns (haw-
thorn). Farther cast and north comes the Turkestan pine {Picea
•^ic/ircnkiana), while at lower levels there grow numerous willows,
black and white poplars, tamarisk, large Ccltis, as well as shrubs of
Elsagniis (wild olive), Hippophng rhan^ruyidcs (sallow thorn), Bubui
fnicticosus (blackberry), Pi-unus spinosa (blackthorn), and P, Ar.
mcniaca (apricot). The characteristic poplar, popidiis diversi/olia,
which does not scera to have found yet the shape of leaves best
suited to the climate, and therefore produces thera in most striking
variety, and the dwarf Acer Lobclii — very different, however, from
the European maple — also occur.
The above apidies to most of the highlands of the Tian-Shan.
The drier soutliern slopes are quite devoid of arboreal vegetation.
1 For ampler infomution, see SycvertsofTs " Vertical and Horizontal Distri-
bvitioo 111 Turkestan Animals." in ttvestta of the Moscow Soc. of Amateurs o^
Nat. Science. 1873; Fedtchenko's "Travels t/i Turkestan." extending over 18
parts of vols, xi., xix.. xxi., xiiv..and xxvi. of the same Izvtstia, and forming a
series I'f monographs Uy specialists which ileal with seiiarate divisions of tne
jinim.il and vegeUiblc kingdom (the flora by RegeH : Oslianin's ZooCeograi^iail
PrnUenis in TnrkesMn, Ta.shkend. ISSO; Grum-Grzimailo's " Flora and Fauna
of Pamir," in hitstia of Russ. Geogr. Soc, 1SS6; Works o/ Iht AralCaspian
Exf^ttilion', DutlerolT's "Ornith. of Nukus," in Mtm. St Petersh. StK. Sat., voL
T., 1879; and the journeya of norschofT, Selnenoff, SyevertsofT, Osten Sacken
(Scrfum TUin-Shaiiiciim). Kegel, Frjevalsky. ^nd many others. C/. also for tlie
southern parta of the region tieporct of the Afghan lioundary Commission.
3 See M. KrasQolTs researches in Isotsiiaot Russ. Geogr. Soc, vol. xxiii.,I8S7.
636
TURKESTAN
[west.
On the northern slopes, at the higher levels, only the Jumperu3
imudoSabina grows on the mountains, and nch meadow grasses
'«>^ertha syrtj Lower do^-n, at about 7500 to 5000 feet the conifer
lone begins; characterized by the Piua SchrenJdana, which famishes
the inhabiUnts with timber and fuel Of course the artcha and a
few other deciduous trees also occur. The ndiest zone is that
which comes next, extending downwards to 5000 and 4500 feet.
There woods of birch, several species of poplar, the maple [Arer
StrTunoirii). and a rich underwood spread over the mountain slopes.
Orchards of apple and apricot surround the villages. The meadows
•re covered with a rich vegeUtion,-numberless bright Paoma,
Tariegated Scabioss, large CmvolmUaaa, aU kinds of Campari u to,
iark coloured ffrroiuru.., splendid PrTiiii/i/fra.yeUow-flowered Gai-
Uum. a mass of Rottuts, Allhta, Olycyrrhizs. high stemmed Scororf.
tsmnMida, and tall arami7<^m. But, as soon as the soU loses its
'*rtile humus, it produces only a few of Phlomis. AUuifi camelorum,
fsammj!, Salsolacea, Artemisia. Peganvm, and some poppies and
Ikamomtllx, but only in the spring. The invading steppe plants
»ppear everywhere in patches in the TurkesUn meaJows. \ ery
9ften — almost invariably on the drier southern slopes ot tie
aouiitains— the steppe vegetation climbs up to the level of the
ilpine Nowhere, perhaps, is the effect of various soils — loess,
oUy, salt clay, and sand— upon vegetation better observable than
in tho recenlly-einerged and arid regions of TurkesUn. ...
The "culture" or "apricot" zone is followed by the prairie belt,
in which black earth plants {Slijxi and the like) struggle for exist-
ence against iuvailing Central Asian forms. And then come the
lowlands and deserts with their moving sandy barkkaits, shors,
and latyrs (see TnANSCAsriAN Reoios). Two species of poi.lar (/".
pruimsa and P. divemifolia), Elacnjnus angusH/olia, the ash, and
a few willows grow along the rivers. Large areas are wholly
destitute of vegetation, and after crossing 100 miles of such a
desert the traveller will occasionally come upon a forest of saksaul
[/Inabasis Ammodcndron). Contorted stems, sometimes of consider.
able thickness, very hard, and covered with a grey cracked bark,
rise out of the sand, bearing preen plumes of thin branches, with
small gre)nsh leaves and pink fruit Sometimes the tree is a mere
knot peeping above the sand with a crown of tliiu branches. liut
even these fantastic growths are rapidly being destroyed by llic
Kirghiz herdsmen, who use them for fuel.' In spring, however,
. the stf ppe assumes quite another aspect, being covered, except
where the sands are shifting, with a rich vcgeUtion. Persian
species penetrate into Bokhara and the region of the upper Amu.
Vege- As already stated (p. 635), the climate of TurkesUn vanes con-
Ublcpro-sideraWy from north to sonth. In Akmoliiisk and Seraiiyctcheusk
dncls most of the kinds of corn which characterize Middle Russia
are grown South of the Tchu and the Syr Dana gardening is a
considerable industry ; an.l, although rje and wheat continue to
be the chief crops, the culture of the apple, and esiiccially of the
apricot (urijiik), acipiires imporUncc. AttempU arc also made to
cultivate the line. The inhabiUnts of the neighbouihood of Tash-
kend and Samarkand, as well as those of the niiicli more northern
but better sheltered Kulja oasis, add the cultivation of the almond,
pomegranate, ami fig. Vines are grown and cotton planted in
those°distncts. Finally, about Khojend and in Ferghana, where
the climate is milder still, the vine and the pisUchio tree cover the
hills, while agriculture and horticulture have reached a high degree
of perfection. Successful attempts are now being made to grow
the tea plant in the Transcaspian region.
ign The arable land, being limited to the irrigated terraces of loess
culture, already spoken of, occupies less than a fiftieth of the whole area of
West Turkestan, even when the Transcaspian deserts are left out
of account The remainder is nearly equally divided between
pasture land and desert (sandy steppe and barren mountain).
Owing to a very equitable distribution of irrigation water in accoid-
»ncc with Moslem law, agriculture and gardening have reached a
high stage of development in the oases. Two crops are usually
taken every year' Wheat, barley, millet, pease, lentils, rice.
Borghum. lucerne, and cotton are tiic chief agricultural products.
Carrots, melons, vegetable marrows, and onions are extensively
grown. Rye and oats arc cultivated in Kazalinsk and Koiat.
Corn is exported Owing to the irrigation, total failure of crops
and consequent famines are unknown, unless among the Kirghiz
ihepherds The kitchen gardens of the Mohammedans are. as a
nile. admirably kept I'oUtoes are grown only by the Russians.
The cultivation of cotton is rapiilly extending (32,000 acres in
1886), as also is sericulture, which is chiefly canicd on in
Ferghana, whence silk cocoons aie an important item of export.
Cattle breeding is extensively pursued, and in Russian Turkestan
alone recent estimates show 400.000 camels. 1.600.000 horses,
1.200,000 catlle, and 11,000.000 sheep. This last figure, however,
is but a very rough estimate.- the flocks on the Kirghiz steppe
being so large that the proprietors themselves do not know their
1 Sf«01s« F«.llrliniko .nd Tror. Sor.ikines drawings ot saksaulforcsls ia
,llti.ni of Vu<et ft R"u Turktilnn : «lso Bull. Sk. Hal Afosc. 1834. No. 1.
> S«t MiJdendorrTs very valual.le sketches of agncullur* in Fergbana lo
tltK. Aad. Sc. o/£l Ptlir,b„rfi, ISSI.
exact numbers, llunains are of freTiUsnt occnrrence ; a recent one
resulted in a terrible famine among the Kirghiz. Live cattle,
hides, wool, camel-hair, UUow, felt, and leather are eiporUd to a
considerable extent. ., ., _, - ... _.
The mineral wealth of Turkestan is considerable. Traces of MmeraU.
Iadustl7
and
trade.
The mineral weaiin oi iuniL'iL<iu is ..uua.vA^.ou.^-. ••- — --
a-uriferous sands have been discovered at many places, but the per-
centage of gold is too poor to make the working remunerative.
Silver lead, and iron ores occur at several places ; but the want
of fuel is an obstacle to their exploitation. The vast coal-beds of
Kulia and several inferior ones in Turkestan are not yet serionsly
woiked, the total yearly output being only some 120,000 cwls.
The naphtha wells of Ferghana and the layers of graphite about
Sairam-Nor are also neglected. There are abundant deijosits of
CT-psum alum, kaolin, marble, and similar materials, ^otwlth-
ttauding the salt springs of Ferghana and Syr-Dana, the salt lakes
of the regiou, and the rock-salt straU of the Alciandrovsk
MounUins, salt is imjiorted- ...
TurkesUn has no manufacturing industry carried on by means
of machinery, except a few distilleries and two establishments for
dressin" raw cotton. But there is a gieal variety of artisan work,
which however, has been for some time declining and now stands
at a rather low level. = Trade is very actively earned on. Its
importance may be judged by the fact that in 1S76 27,900 camels
were used for the transport of wares to Tashkend. This town and
Bokhara are the chief commercial centres, the principal articles of
export to "Russia, via Orenburg and Semipalatiusk. being raw cottaii
and oilk* cattle and their producU. while manufactured wares arc
imported in return. There is also an import and export hade to
and from Urumtchi and China, via Kulja and Ak-su.
TurkesUn has been the theatre of so many migrations and con-
quests that its present (lopulation could not fail to be veiy mixed,
lloth Aryans and Mongols (especially the Ural AlUic branch) have
their represenUtives there, the former settled for the most i>art,
the latter chiefly nomad. The Ural-Altaians, or Turanians, are
numerically the predominant element, and consist of Turcomans,
Kirghiz Uzbegs, and Sarts. The Turcomans inhabit chiefly that
part of' TurkesUn which is now known as the Thasscasnan
Region (<;.!'.). They number less than one million. The Kar<i-
Kalpaks (" Black Bouuets") may inimber about SC.OOO in Turke-
sUn, and some 300.000 in tlio Russian empire allogclhcr Very
little is known of their history. They are supjwscd to be but
recent immigrants to Syr-Daria, having come from the former
Bulgarian empire on the middle Volga. Their language and
habfts are the same as those of tho Kirghiz; but for the last
century and a half they have had some acquaintance with agncul-
tore Their pacific temper exposed them to tho raids of the
Kirghiz, who compelled tliera first to settle in Dzungaria, then to
chance their dwellings several times, and ultimately (in 1742) to
recognize the sovereignty ol Russia. Even since that time they
have been driven by the persecutions of their old enemies to
cross the Aral Caspian stcpiws and seek refuge near Astrakhan.
The real masters of the steppes and highlands of TurkesUn ar«
the Kirghiz, of whom there are IwO branches,— the kazak tossack)
Kirghiz and the Kara (Black) Kirghiz or Burut (see KiBcniz).
The Uzher^ who played a predominant political i«rt in TurkesUn
b"fore the°ltussiau conquest, are of Turco Tartar ongin and speak
a pure Jagatai dialect ; but they are mixed to a great extent with
Persians, Kirghiz, and Mongols. They are subdivided into clans and
lead a semi nomadic life, preserving most of the attractive features
of their Turkish congeners-csiiccially their honesty and mdepend-
ence When settled they are mostly designated as SarU-a name
which has reference more to manner of life than to anthropological
classification, although a much stronger admixture of Iranian blood
is evident in the Sails, who also speak rersian at Khojend and
Samaikand. Tarantchi or Taranji ("labourer ,"■ ^f Ij'""*^'.'' 'u'
name given to those Saris who were settled in Ihe kuija region by
the Clnnese Government after the ri^.ing of 1758^ They eonstituo
about two-fiftl.s of the population of kulja. After dcfeatinp the
Dzungaus in the year 1805. they to,.k the political power in Ku ia
into Their own bauds, olfering shelter to the '^ "K'-J^ «''° 7f^«
inroads on the Russian dominions. This was made a F'^K^J't f"
the annexation of Kulja by Russia in 1871 ; mt it l'»^ ^^n ^ "/^
restored lo China. The o, igin of the P'""K-^"^'V°,'"r f valU v
Icmntical. They nnmhcr nearly 20,000 =■."'''"''='•" '.'.^"^J'
of the 111 in Kulja and lartly are settled in Russian TurkesUn.
Thy arc Mohammedans, 'but have adopted Chinese ■">""-" °-fe.
Thi^longolian branch is represented in Turkestan Ip'!^'' "■''•''»
and Torgtutes (Torgod) in the noitli -east and m kul a where
Ihcy are mixed with Solons, SiIkis, and Chinese. Tl.c Ar)aii
Tajak (see Tajak), the aborigines of the crl.le ,«rts "f T"'W='n.
were subdued by the Turco-Mongolian invaders and I'-^'Hy ^"^
pelled to emigra'te to the mountains, where they are now known
is Caltchas. Th.y constitute the intellectual element of to
country and are the principal owner.- of the irriga ed land, -tho
Uzbeg.' being their hibourers.-nieichants. and inollahs or priesU
They are Sunnite V ...,Mn^rM;^Tlie olher representatives of Aryan
■ . ■... y. Maycll a TurktUut t-tAiWion o/ im. TislikcnJ. 1636.
Ethno-
graphy.
XAST.]
TURKESTAN
637
ncf in Turkestan are a few Persians, mostly liberated slaree ;
Indians, who carry on trade and usury in the cities ; a few
Gipsies'; and the Russians. Among these last two distinct
elements must be noticed, — the Cossacks, who are settled on the
borders of the Kirghiz steppe and have assumed many Kirghiz
features,' arid the peasant-settlers who are beginning to colonize
the valley of the Hi and to spread farther sonlh. Exclusive of the
military, the Russians number about 75.000, nearly two-thirds
being in Semiryetchensk (Cossacks and peasants).
Cj-.u^ Turkestan has no lack of populous cities, which, notwithstanding
recent vicissitudes, continue to be important for their trade, while
several others are widely famous for the part they have played in
history. Khoka.nd,' Makghilas, Namangan, and Andijan in
Ferghana ; Tasbke.sd and Khojend in Syr-Daria ; Samarkand
in Zeraishan; Bokraiu and Khiva in the independent khanates
have each from 30,000 to 100,000 inhabitants.
Gtounl Populous cities adorned with fine monuments of Arabian archi-
•ondi- tecture, numerous ruins of cities decayed, grand irrigation canals
tioa of now l>-ing dry, and written monuments of A^rabian literature testify
tba to a time when civiliza on in Turkestan stood at a much higher
csostry. level than at present. This period was during the first centuries
after its conversion to Islam. Now all is in decay. The beautiful
mosques and madrasas are dilapidated ; no astronomers watch the
sky from the tops of their minarets ; and the scholars of the
madrasas waste their time on the most deplorably puerile scholas-
ticism. The inspiration of early belief has disappeared ; the ruling
motive of the moll-ihs (pries*s) is the thirst for personal enrichment,
and the people no lonccr follow the khojas (see p. 639 below). The
agricultural labourer has preserved the uprightness, diligence, and
sobriety which characterize the Turkish peasant in Asia as well as
in Europe ; but the richer inhabitants of the cities are grossly
sensual. Centuries of wars, followed by massacres and cruel
vengeance, ap unceasing civil strife between parties disputing for
supremacy in the name of religion, conspiracies, appeals to
foreigner., and endless intrigues have hastened the decay of
Mohammedan civilization in the khanates of Turkestan and paved
the way for Russian conquest.
SIbcta of It remains, however, an open question whether the Russians will
Rnasian be able to bring new vigour to the country and awaken intellectual
influence, life. They have failed to do so in eastern Russia, at Kazan, and
elsewhere, where both civilizations — the European and the Asiatic
— remain as thoroughly estranged from one another as they were
three centuries ago. This estrangement is not merely religious,
but social and economical. The followers of Islam, whose common
law and religion know oaly of a temporary posses-sion of the land,
which belongs wholly to the Prophet, cannot accept the principles
of unlimited property in land which European civilization has
borrowed from Roman law ; to 'do so would put an end to all
public irrigation wc^ks, and to the system by which water is used
according to each fa.nily's needs, anj so would be fatal to agricul-
ture. "Nvhen taking possession of Turkestan, the Russians began
to grant deeds establishing property rights over land in accordance
with Roman law. But a study of the Mohammedan system soon
put an end to so erroneous a policy, and Mussulman law is still
respected. The Russians have abolished slavery in Turkestan ;
ana their rule has put an end to the interminable intestine struggles,
which had weakened and desolated the wholi: region. The barbar.
ous tortures and executions which rendered Khiva notorious in the
East are no longer heard of; and the continual appeals of the
khojas "for " holy" war against their rivals find no response. But
the Russian rule has imposed many new taxes, in return for which
Turkestan only gets troops of Russian merchants and officials, who,
instead of becoming the exponents of what is best in European
ci»-ilization, too often accept the worst features of the depraved
Mussulman civilization of the higher classes of the country. New
trib'inals and new justices of the peace are about to be introduced
(1887) ; schools are being diligently spread ; but the wants of the
natives are set behind those of the children of the Russian officials
and merchants and the supposed necessities of Russification. A
consulting hospital for Mohammedan women lias recently been
opened by women graduates in medicine at Tashkend.
East Txthkistan.
Ai already stated, by this name we designate that vast
depression in the great plateau of eastern Asia which lies
between the Tian-Shan Mountains in the north-west ; the
steep slopes of the Pamir and of the Tibet plateau,
bordered by the Kuen-Lun, in the south-west and south ;
the Attyn-Tagh in the south-cast as far as Lake Ix)b-Nor ;
and in the north-east the still imperfectly known mountains
' See CotUaim of Paptra an Turkutati, St Petersburg, 1876, by
MM. Syevertsoff and Khoroshkin.
' Each of these towns is small capitals is described is a sepr.nte
utid^
Boimd'
aries.
which run east-south-east from the Tian-Shan, having th«
Bagratch-kul on their northern slope.^ Farther east tho
Kuruk-Tagh and the steep slope of the Gashuii Gobi
separate East Turkestan from the higher terrace of the
plateau, so that about Lob-Nor the Tarim depression is
narrowed to a width of about 100 miles ; and on the 9Stb
meridian, at Lake TchLn-shen-ho, the steep edge of the
Gobi meets the spurs of the Nan-Shaii Mountains.* This
region has been and still is designated by a variety ol
names, such as the Tangut Plain, West Gobi (a most in-
appropriate name, as already pointed out by Ritter), Ally-
shar or Jity-shar (the land of six or seven cities), Little
Bokharia, Kashgaria, and so on. In its physical features
it forms a connecting link between the Chinese territories
and the Aral-Caspian depres.sion. It covers about 465,000
square miles, but has hardly more than 1,000,000 inhabit-
ants.
Although lying at a high altitude (Kashgar 4000 feet Physic*)
and Yarkand 4120 feet), it has the character of a depres- f"'""*
sion in comparison, not only with the mountains, but also
with the lofty p'ateaus which surround it, — Tibet, Pamir,
and the Tian-Shan syrts. It has a general slope towards
the east, and its lowest portions (formerly occupied by »
great lacustrine basin) are only 2600 feet abone the sea.'
At its north-east edge, i.e., at the foot of the remotest
offshoots of the Tian-Shan, M. Prjevalsky measured an
altitude of only 2600 feet. Its average altitude ranges
from 3100 to 3700 feet, increasing to 4200 at its outer
rim. No movintains or hills diversify its surface, which is
that of a high plain. All the mountains which enclose it
rise to considerable heights, far above the snow line. The
steep slopes of the Pamir culminate in Tagharma Peak
(25,360 feet). In the north the snowclad Kokshat-tau
and Kirghiznyn Ala-tau form a series of uninterrupted
chains, which reach a height of 24,000 feet in the Khan-
Tengri and have at their southern base the broad and high
alpine plateaus, or syris, of which the Yulduz, dotted
with lakes, has acquired historical fame as the meeting-
place of the armies of Timur before his Dzungarian marcL
On the southern borders of East Turkestan, in the Kuen-
Lun and Karakorum Mountains, is the Dapsang — one o/
the highest peaks of the globe ; ^d farther east the Attyn-
Tagh and the Nan-Shaii (with Humboldt and Rittei
ranges), which are among the highest moimtains of Asia,
separate it from the lofty Chaidam or Tsaidam plateau.*
East Turkestan is thus secluded by high mountains and
plateaus from the rest of the continent Even the few Passes,
passes which lead to it climb to altitudes of 14,000 feet.
It is open only towards the east, where it is connected
with the Gobi depression. Its position as the highway
from China to West Turkestan and the Dzungarian empire
has made it known, though only very imperfectly until
lately, through Chinese documents, the narratives of the
journeys of Buddhist missionaries, and the travels of
Marco Polo, Bubruquis, and a few Jesuits. From a remote
antiquity it was crossed by caravans going from China to
Lake Balkash, Ferghana, and the Oxus. The route, after
crossing the Gobi, proceeded either to the Dzungarian
Gate, or, via Kashgar, to the high passes of Terek-Davan
and Muz-art, which led to Ferghana and Issyk-kul. Both
passes have a wide renown in Central Asia, the latter
especially, on account of its difficulties, one of which is a
' See the map of Asia, by A. Petermann. in Stieler's Uand- Allot,
No, 58, where the orography of Asia is represented, in the present
writer's opinion, in a more trustworthy manner than on other mops of
Asia.
* See map fb Pijevalsky's fourth journey is Ttxstia of Russ. (:«ogr
Soc.. 1887.
° Barometrically observed, the possible en or being about 300 feet
' Prjevalsky, Reisen in Tibtt tind am obercn Lau/t da Qdbak
Flutsts, Jena, 1884.
638
TURKESTAN
[basx.
huge glacier, which has to be ascended with the help of
the ice axe.
iver One river only, the Tarim — now lost in the marshes of
•larim. Lob-Nor — and its tributaries, water this region. It is
formed by the confluence of several rivers flowing from
the semicircle of mountains which fence in East Turkestan
on the south, west, and north. The Kashgar-Daria rises
under the name of Kizil-su on the Atai. The Yarkand-
Daria has its origin in a high valley between the Kuen-
Lun and Karakorum Mountains, at the base of Dapsang,
from several streams, such as the auriferous Zerafshan,
which is fed by the glaciers of the Karakorum pass ; after
piercing the Kuen-Lun, it enters the plain, where its waters
Ire soon diverted to the fields and gardens of the Yarkand
oasis. The Khotan-Daria rises farther east in the same
Talley, and also pierces the Kuen-Lun, its two branches —
Ihe Kara-kash and Urung-kash — being renowned for their
'"black" and " white " jade. This river only reaches the
Tarim during the summer. The Tian-Shan Mountains
jontain the sources of several feeders of the Tarim; but
jome of them no longer reach the main stream. The
Kizil-Kunghei disappears after having watered Utch-Turfan
(Uj-Turfan); the Ak-su meets the Khotan-Daria at its
junction with the Tarim ; but the Baidu-gol and the
Kutcha are lost in Lakes Baba-kul and Sary-kamysh.
From the Yutduz plateau comes the Haidu-gol, which
flows past Kara-Shar and enters the Bagratch-kul Lake,
whence it issues under the name of Kontcha-Daria, and,
crossing the east of East Turkestan from north to south,
joins the marshes of Lob-Nor ; thus the long-doubted con-
nexion between these two lakes — the northern and the
southern — really exists. The Tarim is navigable for
Steamers from the confluence of the Yarkand and Kiotan
Deserts, fivers all the way to Lob-Nor.' These rivers, however,
do not bring life to the immense deserts, the aspect of
which recalls partly the Aral-Caspian depression and partly
the Mongolian Gobi. Their undulating surface is covered
with a gravelly soil, out of which all the finer particles have
been winnowed by the wind, and it resounds under the
hoofs of the passing hordes ; grass covers it only in the
beginning of spring. Here and there occur clayey deposits
with an efflorescence of saft, which is hard in summer but
impassable after rains. Then come immense areas of loose
sand, which is raised in clouds by storms of wind, and the
hills of which, moving on like waves, invade the cultivated
fields that have been conquered by laborious efifort from
the desert. The features with which the traveller in the
Sahara, or on the plateau of eastern Iran about Lake Zareh
(Hamun) is familiar, are here reproduced on the same
large scale. The Takla-makan desert north of Khotan
covers 93,000 square miles — an area nearly equal to that
of Great Britain. As one approaches Lob-Nor, and thus
touches upon territory that has emerged at a still more
recent epoch, the desert becomes still drearier and still
less passable on account of the shifting sands. Lob-Nor
ftow consists of two basins ; but the largest of them,
although it has an area four times as large as that of the
Lake of Geneva, can hardly be called a lake, since its
greatest depth is less than 20 feet, while reeds rise 20 feet
above the thin film of water and extend far beyond its
shores. In fact the whole of the region, notwithstanding
its considerable altitude above the ocean, has but recently
emerged from under water. During the later portion of
the Tertiary period it was covered with an immense
Mediterranean sea, and even during the Post-Pliocene
period was occupied by a lake. But, as we see on a
smaller scale in Finland and Sweden, where the higher
* At the aftifiuence the Tarim has at low water a depth of 3 to 5
feet and a width of 190 yards ; towards Lob-Nor the depth uicreases
to 11 feet (PrjevaUky, ia Izvcttia of Rusa. Geog. Soc, 1887).
lacustrine depressions are more advanced in the process of
desiccation than those situated at lower levels, so in Central
Asia the more elevated Tarim region is more advanced in
its desiccation than the Balkash basin, and this latter
again is in a more advanced s'age of the same process than
the Aral-Caspian depression. The desiccation of East
Turkestan must have gone on, however, within historical
times at a much more rapid rate than geologists seem pre-
pared to admit. East Turkestan has not always been the
desert it now is. Many cities, in which Greek and Byzan-
tine /^ins have been found, lie buried beneath the sands,
and in one of these Buddhist statues have been discovered.
Indeed it is very probable that the great migration of the
first centuries of our era resulted from the necessity of
abandoning East Turkestan.
The climate Is severe : a colj winter follows a burning summer. C>is>a*B
A few showers slightly moisten the surface in spring ; but the summer
and autumn are rainless. The air is continually charged with dust,
and often with sand.
The vegetation of the interior of East Turkestan is very poor, F1af%
being the same as that of the steppes of West Turkestan. Oh the
sandy hills are some tamarisks and £lwajnus, rapidly being used
up as fuel ; along the livers are copses of poplars, which have diflfi-
culty in maintaining tliemselves, because no liumus gathers in their
shade, the dry leaves being blown away by the storms and scattered
as dust over the desert ; and, Anally, along the old beds of rivcra
and lakes grow dense and rank beds of reeds, wliere the wild boar
has his habitat. Immense areas are covered with Satsolaccx, and
the gravelly ground is clothed in spring with a rich carpet of grass.
The oases possess all the plants which are cultivated in West
Turkestan, — the mulberry, walnut, pear, apple, apricot, olive, and I
vine. Cotton, rice, maize, millet, and wheat are grown ; and
iMiddendorlTs' remark, that on tlie edge of the desert we 6nd the
best cultivated fields and tlie richest gardens, is still more appli-
cable to the oases of East than to those of West Turkestan. But
outside the oases desolation reigns. *Wind freely modifies the sur-
face, carrying away the finest particles of the gravelly soil, breaking
down the harkhans as soon as man has destroyed the vegetation
which grew on them, and lifting the sand into the air and wliirling
it along in columns of the most fantastic shapes.
As a rule, the mammals are not numerous, and the fauna closely Pvub
resembles tliat of the Tian Shan. It seems to be owing to the
loneliness of its deserts that East Turkestan lias preserved the wild
ancestors of our domestic animals. Besiiles the w-ild ass {Equ.Ht
honiontLs), Prjevalsky discovered in the Dzungarian steppes the wild
horse — the real ancestor of our domestic hoisc — and on the plateau
of Tsaidam the wild camel and the w-ild yak.'
Raw cotton and silk are exported to a considerable amount ; but tttSatv
of manufactured cottons only a rough maf/i is sent to Semiryetchensk tries a^
for the Kirghiz. Some silk wares, carpets, and silk "grain" arenxiiienb
exported from Khotan, leather ware from Yarkand, polished and
copper ware from Ak-su, and small iron ware from Kutcha. Stock-
breeding is of p.iramount importance, and cattle, asses, camels, and
sheep are reared in considerable numbers. Jlineral resources ar«
not wanting, but the mining industry is in a primitive condition.
Gold is obtained from alluvial deposits at Kiri-, coal at Kaiihgar,
jade in Khot.in, and sulphur and saltpetre at Utch-Tuifaii.
It is only along the base of the mountains, where there is a fringe Oun
of loess, and where streams bring the necessary moisture, that
human settlements have sprung up, or rather maintained them-
selves until now. The scries of oases skirts the base of the Tian-
Shan and the Kuen-Lun. Kashgar stands at the apex of the angls
made by those two ranges, while Yanghihissar, Yarkand, Khotan,
and Kiria lie along the Kuen-Lun, and Utch-Turfan, Ak su, Bai,
Kutcha, Kurta, Karashar, and Turfan along the Tian-Shan. Jlany
miles of desert separate these oases from each other ; and their
population could be, and has been, much greater than it is, for
there is no lack of water in the streams which rise beneath th«
snow covering of the mountains. The various oases, which ai-«
named afte,r their chief towns, have always been nearly independent
of each oth'cr. Still, in the course of their much disturbed history,
Khotan, Yarkand, Kashgar, and Ak-su, one after another acmiircd
a kind of supremacy over the rest. At present Yarkand and Kash-
gar are the most important. The city of Yarkand has nearly 60.009
inh.abitant3 ; it is surrounded by walls, and has a separate fort,
Y'anghi-hi.ssar ; ruins of old settlements are scattered around. Its ^
Chinese merchants carry on an active trade, and th« Turkish popu-
lation are breeders of cattle on an extensive scale. Wheat, barley,
rice, beans, sorghum, mulberries, and a variety of fruit trees ac»
2 Op. ciL
» Prjevalsky, J!/i.vn in Tibet, tc. ; and Wilkins (naturalist of m
Kuropatkin's expedition) in the Russian periodical Prinda, 1837, Sa &
KAST.]
TURKESTAN
639
grown in the gardens. Kasbcak (}.f.), snrronnded by a scries of
(wpulous villages, is the chief commercial centre, owing to its posi-
tion on the highway to Lake Issykkul. It is surrounded by forts,
one standing at the confluence of the Kashgar and Yarkand rivers.
Khotas (j.r.) or Iltchi (also Yu-thian), a very populous city under
the Han dynasty of China (206 B.0.-1 A.D.), has much declined of
late. It is renowned for its gold mines, and especially for its jade
and its musk. Copper kettles, carpets, some silk, and felt ware
are manufactured. Sanju (7000 houses), Kilian, Pialma, Guma,
Kargatj'k, and Posgan, on the slopes of the Kuen-Lun between
Yarkand and Khotan, are the richest parts of the region. Naya,
Kiria, Tchira, all on small rivers flowing from the Kuen-Lun, con-
tinue the line of oases towards the east, terminatir in TchertcheB,
which now consists of but a few score of houses. The oases at the
base of the Tian-Shan arc Utch-Turfan (Ust-Turfan), Ak-su (formerly
the capital of Sairam), Bai, Kutcha with Shah yar, Bugur, Kurta,
Earashar, and Tarfan. Their inhabitants grow com to a consider-
able amount, and keep numerous herds of cattle and flocks of sheep.
The chief e-tports are wool, fowls, and the horns of the maral deer.
On the. lower Tarim, where a few settlements, supported chiefly by
fishing, continue to struggle against the encroacning desert, the
ruins of formerly populous towns testify that the r^ou was not
always the dreary waste it now is.
l^paJa. The population is mixed, Aryans and Turanians being thoroughly
•ton. intermmgled. On the slopes of the Pamir, about Sary-kol, there
is a purely Aryan population of Persian Galtchas. Kirghiz and
Kara Kirghiz inhabit the slopes of the Tian Shan. Kalmucks occur
in the north-east ; and in the central parts the population consists
of Turkish Sarts and Uzbcgs and of Persian Tajak, — the Mongolian
clement increasing towanis the north-east. The language is
Turkish, like that spoken in West Turkestan, with several varieties
of patois and a considerable addition of Chinese words. As a rule,
the inhabitants of East Turkestan have an air of poverty. There
are no rich mosques in their towns, such as those of Samarkand
and Bokhara ; the houses are of unbaked brick and poorly furnished.
The dress is that customary in West Turkestan. But the habits
of the people differ to some extent and the women enjoy greater
liberty than in other Mohammedan countries: they go in the streets
unveiled ; free marriages, contracted for short terras, are not un-
Irequent As a rule, the position of women is more independent
— a feature noticed even by the earliest travellers in the country.
The aggregate population of East Turkestan, estimated between
575,000 and 1,500,000 in 1825, is nov; (18S7) hardly more than
1,000,000. Kuropatkin estimates it at 1,200,000, Forsyth at 600,000.
The population of the chief towns may be stated approximately as
follows— Yarkand, 60,000 ; Kashgar, 50,000 ; Khotan, 40,000 ;
Sanju, 35,000 ; Ak-su, 20,000 , Kiria, 15,000 ; Vanghi-his.sar, 10,000 ;
Kargatyk, 10,000 ; Kurta, 6000.
History. It appears very probable that at the dawn of history East Turke-
stan was inhabited by an Aryan population, the ancestors of the
present Slavonic and Teutonic races, and that a civilization not
inferior to that of Bactriana had already developed at that time in
the region of the Tarim.* Our knowledge, however, of the history
of the region is very fragmontarj' until about the beginning of the
Christian era. When the Huns (Hiongnu) occupied west and east
Mongolia in 177 ac, they drove before them the Yue-chi (Yutes,
Yetes, or Ghetes), who divided into two hordes, one of which in-
vaded the valley of the Indus, while the other met the Sacse in
East Turkestan and drove them over the Tian-Shan into the valley
of the III Thus by the beginning of our era the Tarim region had
a mixed population of Aryans and Ural- Altaians, some being settled
agriculturists and others nomada There were also several inde-
pendent cities, of which Khotan was the most important. One
portion of the Aryans emigrated and settled in what is now
Wakhan (on the Pamir plateau), the present language of whicn
seems vpry old, dating anterior to the separation of the Vedic and
Zend languages. In the 1st century the Chinese extended theii
rule westivards over East Turkestan as far as Kashgar. But their
dominion seems to have been merely nominal, for it was soon shaken
off. By the end of the 5th century the western parts fell under
the sway of the " White Huns" or Ephthalites, while the eastern
parts were under Tangut (Thygun) dominion. The Chinese, how-
ever, still retained the region about Lob- Nor. Buddhism penetrated
into the country at an early date ; but in East Turkestan there
were also followers of Zoroastrianism, of Nestorian Christianity,
and even of Manichaeism. An acrive trade was carried on by means
1 Such 13 the conclusion reached by Lassen (Indischs AtCerthumskundf), and
supported by M. Grigoricff (Ritter's Asien in Russ. transl. ; Addenda to " East
Turkestan," in Russian). In connexion with the objection based upon the
sub-boreal character of the regions which were the cradle of the Aryans, as
proved by the so-called palaontology of the Ar>-an languages, it may be ob-
served that by the ct,d of the Glacial', and during the earlier Lacustrine (Post-
Glacial) period, the vegetation of Turkestan and of Central Asia was quite
tUfferent from what it is now. It was Siberian or nonh European. The
researches by M. Krasnoff (see above, p. 63o) as to the characters of the former
flora of the Tian-Shan, and the changes it has undergone in consequence of the
extremely rapid desiccation of Central Asia, must be carefully borne in mind
tn all speculations foonded apoa the testunooy of language aa to the .original
home of the Aryans.
of numerous caravans. The civilization and political organization
of the country were dominated by the Chinese, but were also in'
fluenced to some extent by Grseco-Bactriau civilization. Buddhism
spread rapidly in the south-west, and the study of Pali became
widely dilfused. Our information as to the state of the country
from the 2d century to the first half of the 7th is slight, and is
chiefly derived from the Journeys of the Buddhist pilgrim Fa-hieu
in 399, Song-\-un in 513, and Hwen-fsang in 629. By this time
Buddhism had reached its culminating point : in Khotan there wero
100 monasteries and 5000 monks, and the' Indian sacred literature
was widely diffused ; but already there were tokens of its decay.
Even theu the eastern parts of the Tarim basin seem to have been
growing less and less populous. To the east of Khotan cities which
were prosperous when visited by Song-yun had a century later
fallen into ruins, while their inhabitants had migrated westwards.
Legend has it that all the inhabitants of Go-lao-lo-tsia were buried
in a sandstorm, and this seems to be but a poetical way of represent*
ing a phenomenon which was steadily going on in East Turkestan,
Little is known about these regions during the 7th, 8th, and 9tb
centuries. In the 7th century the Tibetan king, Srong-btsan, with
the help of the western Turks, subjugated the western part of the
Tarim basin. During the foUoning century the Mohammedans
under Kotaiba, after several excursions into West Turkestan, took
Samarkand, Ferghana, Tashkend, and Khokand (712-713), and
invaded Eait Turkestan, penetrating as far as Turfan and China.
The Chinese supremacy was not shaken by these invasions. But,
on the outbreak of internal disturbances in China, the Tibetan.?
took possession of the western j)rovinces of China, and intercepted
the communications of the Chinese with Kashgaria, so that thejr
had to send their troops through the lands of the Hui-khe (Hoei-ke,.
or Hoei-hu). In 790 the Tibetans were m,isters of East Turkestan p
but their rule was never strong, and towards the 9th century wo-
find the country under the Hoi-he. Who these people were ist
somewhat uncertain. According to Chinese documents, they came-
from the Selenga ; but most Orientalists identify them with the
Uigurs. In the opinion of M. Grigorieff, whom we follow in this
sketch,' the Turks who succeeded the Chinese in the western parts
of East Turkestan were the Karluk Turks, who extended farther
south-west up to Kashmir, while the north-eastern parts of the
Tarim region were subdued by the Uigurs. Soon Mongolian hordes*
the Kara-Kitais, entered East Turkestan (11th century), and thett
penetrated into West Turkestan, Khiva fallingunder their dominion*
During the following century Jenghiz Khan overran China, Turke*
Stan, India, Persia, Russia, and Hungary; Kashgaria fell under his-
rule in 1220, though not ivithout strenuous resistance followed by
massacres. The Mongolian rule was, however, not very heavy, the '
Mongols merely exacting tribute. In fact, Kashgaria flourished
under them, and the fanaticism of Islam was considerably abated.
Women again acquired greater independence, and the religious
toleration then established permitted Christianity and Buddhism
to spread freely. This state of affairs lasted until the 14th century,
when Tughlak Timur, who extended his dominions to the Kuen-
Lun, accepted Islam. He transferred his capital from Ak-su ta
Kashgar, and had a summer residence on the hanks of Issyk-kuL
His son reigned at Samarkand, but was overthrown by Timur-lang
(see TiMtiB), end the reign of the great conqueror was a fertile
source of suffering to the region. To put an end to the attacks of
the wild Tian-Shan tribes, he ondertook in 1389 his renowned
march to Dzungaria, which was devastated ; East Turkestan also
suffered severely.
The re-introduction of Islam was of no benefit to the Tarim region.
In the 14th and 15th centuries Bokhara and Samarkand became
centres of Moslem scholarship, and sent great numbers of their
learned doctors to Kashgaria. Rubruquis, who visited East
Turkestan in 1254, Marco Polo between 1271 and 1275, and Hoi»
in 1680, all bore mtness to great religious tolerance ; but this
entirely disappeared with the invasion of the Bokharian mollahs.
They created in East Turkestan the power of the k-hcjas, whi>
afterwards fomented the many intestine wars waged between the
rival factions of the White and the Black Mountaineers. In the
17th century k powerful Kalmuck confederation arose in Dzungaria,
and extended its sway over the Hi and Issykkul basins, having its
capital on the IlL To th'is power or to the Kirghiz the " AVhites"
and "Blacks" alternately appealed in their struggles, in which
Yarkand supported the latter and Kashgar the former. These
struggles paved the way for a Chinese invasion, which was supported
by the White khojas Of Kashgar. The Chinese entered Dzungaria
in 1753, and there perpetrated a terrible massacre, the victims feing
estimated at one million. The Kalmucks fled and Dzungaria be-
came a Chinese province, with a military colonization of Sibos,
Solons, Dahurs, Chinese criminals, and Moslem Dzungars. Thft
Chinese next re-conquered East Turkest.-n, marking their progress
by massacres and transporting 12,500 partisans of independence to
the Hi valley. Hereupon the dissentient khojas fled to Khokand
and there gathered armies of malcontents and fanatic followers of
3 See Ritter's.4stcn, " East Turkestan " (Russ. trus.), iL !83 ; also Kam]}*^
kin's Kashgaria.
640
T U R — T U R
Islam. Sclera! times they succeeded in oTcrthrowing the Chinese
rulc-*in 1825, in 1830, and in 1847 — but tlielr successes were never
permanent. After tlie "rebellion of the seven khojas" in 1847
neatly 20,000 families from Kashgar, Yarkand, and Ak-su fled to
West Turkestan throu^'h the Teiek-Davan pass, many of them
perishing on the way. In 1857 another insurrection broke out ; but
ft few months later the Chinese again took Kashgar (for the details
«ee Kasiigau). In the course of the D^ungaiian outbreak of 1864
the Chinese were again expelled ; and Yakub Bog became master
of Kashgar in 1872. But five years later he had again to sustain
•war with China, in which he was defeated, and East Turkestan
once more became a Chinese province.
Bibliography. ~'n\e literature on Turkestan hag of late years become very
vohitninoug. esneeinlly in tlie form of papers scattered tlirough the periodicals
fii'jlislied by tlie Europeau Gc'^crapliical Societies atiJ oilier scientific iKwlies.
he reader is referred to Ihe foiiowing works as lilted to facilitate research.
Vo!3, vi. and vii, of Elis^c Hecluss Giographie Univcrsede eontaii) iiiatia sliowing
the routes of the chief explorers. Prof. Miishkctoll's Turkestan (in Un-Jsian.
vol. i. 1586) contains an excellent critical analysis of all explorations of T'jrke-
stan and works thereupon, and the infoniution they contain with regard to
the physical geopraphy and geology of West Turkestan. Prof. GrigorielFs
A'ideada to Bitter's AsUn embody the whole of the older and mote modem
rcscarclic"! into the geography and history of Ea<st Turkestan do«o to ^3f^
Anv and Usboi (Saratotf, 187!», by the chief of the Amu-l)aria expedition^
and Bogdauoirs Hevuw of Eii-tilitions and Explorations in the Arat-OtspwA
Keg ion from I7S0 to 1871, (St Petersburg. 187^) are most 'Jscful works. Vcof.
Lcnz'3 paper " Ueber den fruheien Lauf des Amu^Daria, in Mem. Amd. Sc. .11
Pftersburg, diw"usse^ valuable information borrouetj from anrient sources
Me?ho(r9 rwrlf^sfuni^iy .StmrHifc is a cfltalngne of the Central-Asian library at
Ta^ihkend, and his annual "Index" contains full classihed li^ s of itiissian
geographical iilerature, Of *ork>i of a general characlcr, wtth escriiitu.n'i of
both rei^ions (apart from iravels). the following, arranged in r.hw.imli.gical
order, are worthy of mention ,— beoienotrs "lian-bhan," bemj; vol. i. of Ititlcr'a
Aiicn (Rush, trans., 1856). GrigonefTa " East TurkfSlan," foruiiiig two vuls. of
Ritters Asi'.n (Russ. transi . I8*i9 and 1373) ; SyevertsotTs "Verlical and Horl*
zonLil Diitnhittinn of Mav^.nalia in Turkestan,' in /z'tiffu Lvb. Est. of Mosrow,
1S73; WenjukofTs I>ie Riunisch-Aiiatiscfffn Cremlande (trtiTiH. from Russian by
Krahmer, Leipsic. 1871); Uellwald's Centrotaiien, I87!i; Pclzholdfs Um.vhu)t
im Russ. Turk., 1877 ; Kuropatkin s Kushgana, IS79 (partially translated int*
French); Kostcnko's Turkcstansfciy /Cnii, 3 voN., ISSO, very cnpioii-. translation J
from which are emho<lied in Lansdell'a Centrut <4s(«, but unhappily too ioti»
matcty cotnhined with less useful inforniatioD. Schlacintwcit s Utntn in Indien
uml llochas'en, vol. iii.. East Tuikestan ; Prjeval«ky's thrt-e journcya to
Central Asia (the Qrst two transtaU-d into English . all tliiee in German); Olg»
Fcdtcheiiko's Alburn, of ftcu-s of Russ Turk., 15S5; Nalivlcinn //tsfory o/ (/n
Khanatf of Kokand (iii Russ.), Kazan, I88S. Vambery's Dns Tvrkenvolt,\ 18851
lio?,\ios(:hi\y'B A f'jhanistami. angrem i/tndfr (for Afghau Xurk.); and Mushk>
toITs TuTkesUiii, vol. 1. (lO Russiao), 1660. (P. A. K.)
TURKEY
Part L— Histort.
SOMEWHERE about the second decade of the 13th
century the little Turkish tribe which in due course
was to found the Ottoman empire fled before the Mongols
from its original home in Central Asia, and, passing through
Persia, entered Armenia, under the leadership of SuleymAn
Er 1 •ijb-Shih, its hereditary chief. His son, Er-Toghrul, who
*"' succeeded him as head of the tribe, when wandering about
the country with his warriors came one day upon two
armies engaged in a furious battle. Er-Toghrul at once
rode to the assistance of the weaker party, who were on
the point of giving way, but who through the timely aid
thus rendered not only regained what they had lost but
totally defeated their enemies. The army thus saved from
destruction proved to be that of 'A14-ud-Dln, the Scljuk
Bultan of Asia Minor, and their adversaries to be a horde
of marauding Mongols. By way of recompense for this
service 'Al.Vud-D(n granted to Er-Toghrul a tract of land
on the Byzantine frontier, including the towns of Sugut
X)sm5ii. and Eski Shehr. 'Osmin, the son of Er-Toghrul and the
prince from whom the race derives its name of 'Osm.^nli (see
Tdrks, p. 661 below), corrupted by Europeans into Otto-
man, was born in Sugut in 1258 (a.h. 656). While still
young 'Osin,ln won from the Greeks Karaja Hisir (Kara-
hissar) and some other towns, on which account he received
from his suzerain, the Scljuk sultan of Konya (Konieh), the
title of beg or prince, along with the drum and the horse-
tail standard, the symbols of princely rank.
Early In 1300 (699) the Seljuk empire (see SeOTJKs) fell to
Turkish pieces under the onslaught of the Mongols, who were, how-
paliUea. ^^'^''> powerless to replace it by any governmcitt of their
Own. Thereupon ten separate Turkish dynasties arose from
its ruins : that of Karasi sprang up in ancient Mysia, the
houses of Saru Khan and Aydin in Lydia, of Mentesha in
Caria, of Tekka in Lycia and Pamphylia, of Hamfd in
Pisidia and Isauria, of Karaman in Lycaonia, of Kermiyan
in Phrygia, of Krzil Ahmedli in Paphlagonia, aid of
'OsmAn in Phrygia Epictetus. These principalities .were
ftU eventually merged in that of the 'Osniinlis, once the
least among them, and the inhabitants assumed the name of
Ottoman. Hence by far the greater portion of the people
Called Ottomans owe their name to a .-ieries of political
events. On the collap.so of the Seljuk power the Greeks
detained hardly any possessions in Asia except Bithynia and
Trebizond. Armenia was abandoned for a time to roving
Tatar or Turkman tribes, till some sixty or seventy years
later one or two petty local dynasties sprang up and
founded short-lived states.
The year 1301 (700), in which 'Osm4n, who Ihorily
before had succeeded his father, first coined money and Pountt.
caused the khutba, or public prayer for the reigning '"g »'
monarch, to be read in his name-^tbe two prerogatives of *^'''"'"**
an independent sovereign in the East — may be regarded as'"""'
the birth-year of the Ottoman empire ; and it was about
this time that his followers and subjects began to call
themselves 'Osniinlis, or, as we might render it, 'Osmanites.
Having thoroughly, established his authority in his capital
of Yeni Shehr, 'Osmin began to wrest from the Greeks
many of the neighbouring towns and strongholds, among
others Ayina Gol and Koyun Hisiri, routing before the
last named a large Byzantine army. He then turned his
attention to the administration of his state, and such was
the feeling of security he succeeded, in establishing that
large numbers of peo]i!e from the surrounding districts
flocked into his dominions and became his subjects. After
six y^ars of peace several of the Byzantine castellans ol
the neighbourhood, instigated by the governor of Brusa
(Broussa), made a simultaneous attack upon the Ottomans,
but 'OsniAn totally defeated them and-sent in pursuit Kart
"All Alp, who took possession of all their domains. GhAzdn.
the khan of the Mongols, who had entered into an alliance
with the emperor of Constantinople, sent to all the Turkish
princes an arrogantly worded message forbidding them to
do any hurt to the Byzantine territories. To show how
light he held this menace, 'Osmin assembled an army
forthwith, marched to Nicaeaand thence to the Bosphorus,
laying waste the country as he went and taking po.ssession
of a number of towns and villages. Michael, called by
the TurkisTi historians Kosa Mikhil or Michael Scant-
beard, the governor of one of these, embraced Islim and
became one of the most trusted officers of 'Osmin and
of his son and successor Orkhan. The descendants of
this Michael were the hereditary commanders of the
akinjis, a corps of light cavalry who played a great part
in the early Ottoman wars. The first service on which
Michael was employed was to destroy, along with Orkhan,
a Mongol horde that had taken and pillaged the Ottoman
town of Karaja Hisdr. Meanwhile "Abd-ur-Rahmdn and
Akcha Koja, two of 'Osmin's generals, were adding to
the Ottoman dominions in the north, capturing several
towns and laying siege to the city of Nicroa. The Ottoman
chiefs next resolved to acquire Brusa, the natural capital
of these parts. So they built round it a series of towers, in
which they placed garrisons, with the view of intercepting
communications and eventually starving the city into sul>
mission. At length, in 1 326 (726), after a desultory siege
of eight years, the keys were, through the ntervention of
Mlkhil, handed over to OrkUan, who was iri command of
the Ottomans, and the townspeople were allowed to ransom
[■HKTOBY.]
TURKEY
641
themselve: for 30,000 sequins. Very soon after this 'Osmdn
died, aged seventy, at Sugut, whence his remains were
carried for burial to Brusa. 'Osm&a was distinguished for
piety and generosity as well aa for equity and courage;
He cared nothing for amassing wealth, and on his death
his personal effects were found to consist of two or three
suits of clothes, a few weapons, some horses, and a tlock
of sheep. And so high was his reputation for justice
that, we are told, many of the Asiatic subjects of the
Csesars fled to him for that protection which their own
rulers would not or could not give them.
Orkbts Orkhan, who succeeded bis father 'Osmdn, continued
the war against the Greeks, taking from them Nicomedia,
Nicjea, and many of the towns which they still retained
in Asia. Hitherto the Ottomans had not interfered with
the other Turkish states , bat now Orkhan, granting a
short respite to the Byzantines, took advantage of a dis-
pute regarding the succession to the throne of Karasi,
entered that principality, and annexed it to his own domin-
ions. To his son SuleymAn the Ottomans owe their first
establishment in Europe ; one night that prince, accom-
panied by a few companions, crossed the Hellespont on
a raft and surprised the town of Galipoli (Gallipoli). The
next day he brought over a number of Turkish troops,
with whose assistance he possessed himself of many of
the neighbouring towns and villages, but his career was
, cut short by a fatal fall from his horse when out hunting.
Orkhan did not long survive his son, grief at whose un-
timely end is said to have hastened his own death, in
1359 ("01). This monarch is celebrated for the number
of mosques, colleges, and other public institutions Miat
he founded. During his reign the Ottoman army was
thoroughly organized, and a body of regular paid soldiers
was raised, which formed the nucleus of the military power
of the state, though the old irregular militia was still called
out whenever a campaign was to be undertaken. The
famous corps of the janissaries (Turkish yeret ckeri, i.e.,
" new troop ") was instituted at this time. It consisted
of the children of Christian subjects, who were educated
as Mussulmans and brought up to a military life.
Murid I Having taken the city of Angora from certain territorial
lords who,, incited by the prince of Karaman, had attacked
the Ottoman dominions, Mur4d I., the son and successor
of Orkhan, found himself free to extend his possessions
across the Hellespont. He forthwith passed over into
Europe, where he and his generals soon reduced almost all
Roumelia, capturing Adrianople, Philippopolis, and many
other places of importance. These successes alarmed the
Christian princes, who determined to make a vigorous effort
to drive the Turks back into Asia. The kings of Bosnia,
Hungary, and Servia accordingly marched with a large
army upon Adrianople, but were surprised during the night
and completely defeated by an inferior Turkish force
Some time after this.victory Murdd leturned to Asia, where
he celebrated the wedding of his son Biyezld with the
daughter of the prince of Kerraiyin, a large portion of
whose territory was made over to the "Osrainli monarch
as the dower of the bride. Next year, when Murdd set
out to inspect his new possessions, he met the prince of
Hamfd, whom he constrained to sell all his dominions
The Karaman prince, ever the jealous rival of the Ottoman,
now stirred up some of the Turkman tribes to ravage his
enemy's land, but Murid was beforehand with him, and,
entering his country, defeated him and annexed the district
of Alf Shehr to his own kingdom. The Bosnian and
Bulgarian princes having allied themselves against the
sultan, the Turkish commander in Europe invaded Bulgaria,
Battle oi which was speedily rubdued and added to the Ottoman
Kosovo, possessions. MurAd next entered Servia and advanced to
the plain of Kosovo, where he found awaiting him the
levies of Servia, Bosnia, Hungary, Albania, and Walachijw
The Turks, though far inferior in number to their adveiV
saries, gained a complete victory, 1389 (791), but it was
purchased with their sovereign's life. After the battle
Murid was riding over the field with some of his people,
when a wounded Servian, who was lying among the slain,
sprang up and stabbed him so that he died almost im-
mediately afterwards. In consequence of this battle Servia
became subject to the Turk.
Biyezld I., surnamedYildirim,"Thunderbolt,"on account BiyaU
of the fury of his attack and the rapidity of his movements, !•
received the oath of fealty on the battlefield of Kosovo.
He did much to secure the position of the Ottomans, in
Europe, taking many of the towns which still remained to
the Christians in Roumelia. In Asia he annexed tha
remaining Turkish principalities, and pushed his conqueata
as far as Caesarea and Sivis. The Christians made another
great effort to free themselves from their Eastern foes :
whilst Biyezld was absent in Asia, the king of Hungary
led a powerful army, in the ranks of which were many
knights of France and Germany, into the Ottoman domin-
ions and laid siege to Nicopolis. Biyezld sped to the
rescue, and inflicted an overwhelming defeat on the Chris-
tians. He next turned his attention to Constantinople,
the reduction and annexation of which he had long medi-
tated, when he was summoned to meet Tlmiir, the Tatar
conqueror, who had invaded his Asiatic dominions and
taken SIvis. The Ottoman and Tatar hosts encountered
each other outside Angora, and there the former sustained
their first disastroift overthrow, Biyezid being taken
prisoner ind his army practically annihilated. Next year,
1403 (S05), he died in captivity, the story of his having
been imprisoned in an iron cage is not confirmed by the
Turkish historians, and is most probably fictitious. After
this victory Tlmiir overran the Ottoman territories in Asia,
tal-ing and sacking Brusa, Nicsea, and many other cities.
With a view to the coiriplete annihilation of the 'Osminli
power, he restored the independence of the Turkish princi-
palities which Biyezld had annexed, and placed them
under the rule of their former emirs.
On the withdrawal of Timur from Asia Minor the four
surviving sons of Biyezid fought for what was left of their
father's kingdom , after ten years of civil war success
finally rested with Muhammed, who alone of the four is Muham-
reckoned among the Ottoman sovereigns. The attention '^'^ L
of the new sultan, whom his people called Chelebi Muham-
med or Muhammed the Debonair, was turned rather to
the restoration of his father's empire than to the conquest
of neighbouring countries. In Europe he lived on amicable
terms with the Byzantine emperor, and the Christian kings
further north did not venture to make any serious attack
upon him. But in Asia he had to contend with many
enemies, the most formidable of whom was the emir of
Karaman, who, having been defeated and made prisoner,
was generously pardoned and restored to liberty. Another
difficulty with which Muhammed had to deal was a strange
religious outbreak ; a vast number of fanatic dervishes,
headed by an apostate Jew and a Turkish adventurer of
low birth, rose in revolt, and were only dispersed after
several bloody battles. This sultan, who was mui^h b;
loved by his subjects and is spoken of with praise by the
Byzantine historians, was stricken with apoplexy while
riding in Adrianople, and died almost immediately in the
thirty-third year of his age, U21 (824).
The first care of his son and successor Murid U. was Moiid
to rid himself of a pretender to the throne who, aided by I'
the Greek emperor, had made a descent upon the Asiatic
shore of t-he Dardanelles. This adventurer was soon de-
feated and pursued to Adrianople, where he was taken
and hanged. In revenge for the assistancg rendered to
642
TURKEY
[history.
his enemy, the sultan invested Constantinople, but he was
compelled to relinquish the siege in order to subdue a
revolt beaded by his brother, which had broken out in
Asia. Murid again annexed all the Turkish prmcipali-
ties which had been restored by Tdnur, except those of
Kjzil Ahraedli and Karaman, which did not finally become
incorporated with the empire till the time of Muliainmed
II. The Turks were now called upon to face '.iie most
formidable Christian enemy they had yet encountered,
namely Hunyady, the illegitimate son of Sigismund, king
of Hungary. This famous general, after having inflicted
several severe though not very important defeats upon his
adversaries, invaded European Turkey with a large army
of Hungarians, Poles, Servians, Bosnians, Walachians,
and Prankish crusaders, the last-named being under the
command of Cardinal Julian. The Ottoman army was
utterly routed, Sophia taken, and the chain of the Balkans
forced ; and MurAd was compelled to sign a treaty for ten
years, by which he resigned all claims to Servia and gave
over Walachia to Hungary. Weary of the cares of state,
and thinking that peace was, for a time at least, secured,
MurAd abdicated in favour of his yor.ng son Muhammed
and sought a quiet retreat in the town of Magnesia. But
be was not allowed to enjoy repose for long -. the Chris-
tian princes, incited by Cardinal Julian and in direct
violation of the treaty, assembled their forces, and, under
Hunyady as commander-in-chief, without declaring war,
entered the Turkish dominions and took many of the
Ottoman strongholds in Bulgaria. When the news reached
MurAd he resumed the imperial powcT, put himself at the
head of his troops, and' advanced to meet the mvadcrs,
who had just captured Varna. Outside that town a great
battle was fought, in which a copy of the violated treaty,
raised high upon a lance, formed one of the standards of
the Ottomans. The conflict, which was long and bloody,
resulted in the total overthrow of the Christians, the
Polish king, Ladislaus, and Cardinal Julian being among
the slain, 1444 (848). MurAd again abdicated and sought
the retirement of Magnesia ; but once again he had to take
up the reins of government. This time the janissaries and
sipAhis, accustomed to the firm rule of the victor of Varna,
had refus- i obedience to the young Muhammed. The
sultan ren. lined at the head of the state until bis death,
which occurred in 1451 (855).
Moham- Muhammed II., who now ascended the throne for the
med II. third time, determined to accomplish the long-cherished
design of his liouse, and make Constantinople the capital
of the "OsmAnli empire. He easily found a pretext for
declaring war against Constantine Paheologus and in the
spring of 1453 (857) led an immense army to beleaguer
Fall of the city. His troops covered the ground before the land-
Conatan- ward walls between the Sea of Marmora and the Golden
tiiiople. j^y^„ . ^jut }jg found that even his monster cannon could
do but little against the massive. fortifications. At length
he resolved to assail the city from its weakest side, that
facing the Golden Horn. But the Greeks, having foreseen
the likelihood of an attack from this quarter, had thrown
a great chain across the entrance to the harbour, thereby
blocking the passage against the hostile ships. The
Ottomans, however, construeted a road of planks, five miles
long, across the piece of ground between the Bosphorus,
where their own fleet lay, s,m\ the upper part of the Golden
Horn. Along this road they hauled a number of their
galleys, with sails set to receive the aid of the favouring
wind, and launched them safely in the harbour, whence
they cannonaded with more efi'ect the weaker defences of
the city. This compelled the Greek emperor to withdraw
a portion of his little garrison from the point where the
more serious attack was being made, to repair the destruc-
tion wrought in this new quarter. At dawn on May 29th
the Ottomans advanced to storm the city. The Christians
offered a desperate resistance, but in vain. The emperor
died fighting in the forefront of the battle, and at noon
Muhammed rode in triumph into his, new capital and
went straight to the cathedral of St Sophia ; there, before
the high altar, where the preceding night Constantine had
received the Holy Sacrament, he prostrated Jiimself in the
Moslem act of worship. The capture of Constantinople
is not the only exploit to which Muhammed owes his sur-
name of FAtih, or the Conqueror : he also reduced Servia
and Bosnia, overthrew and annexed the Greek empire of
Trebizond and the Turkish principality of Karaman,
acquired the suzerainty of the Crimea, and won many of
the islands of the Greek Archipelago from the Venetians
and Genoese. But before Belgrade, which he had besieged
as the first step to an attack upon the northern kingdoms,
he sufi'ered a serious defeat, being driven wounded from
the field by Hunyady and John Capistran, with the loss
of 300 cannon and 25,000 men. Rhodes, whither an
Ottoman force was despatched, was the scene of another
failure: here the Knights of St John gallantly and suc-
cessfully withstood their Mohammedan foes, and compelled
them to retire from the island. In Albania a long and.
for a time, successful resistance was offered to the Turkish
arms by the famous George Castriot, the Iskender Beg
of the Turks. This chieftain had been in his youth.in the
service of MurAd II., and was by him appointed governor
of his native Albania, whereupon he revolted and tried
to restore the independence of his country. Among the
favourite designs of Muhammed were the subjugation of
Italy and the establishment of the Mussulman dominion
in the capital of Western Christendom. A Turkish army
crossed the Adriatic and stormed the city of Otranto ; but
its further progress was slopped, and for ever, by the death
of the Conqueror, which occurred a few months later,
in 1481 (8SG). The Muharamedan soldiers besieged in
Otranto, being unsupported from Turkey, were, _flcr a
long and brave defence, forced to surrender.
BAyezfd II. was hardly seated on the throne before he Bdyerid
was called upon to face a formidable revolt raised by his •!•
younger brother Jem. This youthful pretender, who was
both talented and high-spirited, was, after a number of
adventures, finally compelled to fly the country. He sought
the protection of the Knights of St John at Rhodes, who,
however, retained him a prisoner, and made an arrangement
with BAyezld whereby they received from that monarch a
yearly sum of 45,000 ducats as the price of the compulsory
detention of his brother. After thirteen years of captivity
the unfortunate prince was murdered by Pope Alexander VI.
(Borgia), who, it is .said, received 300,000 ducats from the
sultan a? the reward of his crime. Though frequently
compelled to engage in defensive wars, BAyezld was of a
peace-loving and unambitious disposition, and a few towns
in the Morea were all the additions made to the empire
while he was on the throne. It was during his reign,
however, that the Ottoman fleet began to be formidable to
Christendom, the desperate battle off Sapienza, won by
KemAI Be'ls against the Venetians, being the first of the
Turkish naval victories over the Mediterranean powers.
BAyezld, whose pacific habits had alienated the sympathies
of the janissaries, was in 1512 (918) forced by these dreaded
guards to abdicate in favour of Sellm, the youngest of his
three sons. This prince had already been in open revolt
against his father ; but his determined and warlike char-
acter had won for him the esteem of Uie Turkish pra;lorians.
BAyezid's health, which had long been failing, gave way
under this blow ; and the old sultan died three days after
his deposition, at a little village on the way to Deinitoki»,
whither he was going to end his life in retirement.
Sellin I. was personally the greatest of the Ottoman
1421-1566.]
TURKEY
643
Selim I. monarchs : bis unflinching courage and tireless vigour were
not more remarkable ♦han his political sagacity and his
literary and poetic talents , but so merciless was he that
he has always been known in Turkish history as Yawuz
Selira or Selim the Grim. Happily for Europe he turned
his attention to the neighbouring Muhammedan states and
left the Christian powers in peace. Having caused both
his brothers to be put to death, he marched against Persia,
the king of which country had given refuge to the family
of one of the hapless Turkish princes. The quarrel between
them was further embittered by religious hatred : the shih
of Persia was the pillar of the Shi'ites, as the Ottoman
sultan was of the Sunnites. Selim in his fanatical zeal
had ordered a massacre of his Shl'ite subjects, in which
forty-6ve thousand persons suffered death. The sh4h was
eager to avenge the slaughter of his co-religronists. The
janissaries showed signs of insubordination upon the march,
but Seltm resoluteiy maintained order and reduced them
to submission. 'At length they came upon the Persian
host drawn out on the plain of Chaldiran, where a great
battle was fought, which ended in the rout of the Persians
and left the way to Tabriz, the residence of the Persian
king, open to the sultan. Thither Selim proceeded ; but
eight days later he set out on his homeward march. The
battle of ChaHiran brought no addition of importance to
the empire; but the districts of Diyir-Bekr (Diarbekr)
and Kurdistin, through which the army had passed on the
way to Persia, were completely subdued and annexed to the
OdD- Ottoman dominions. Selim's next important campaign
ijnesi of yyas against the Memliiks of Egypt. This body of Eastern
S^' chivalry offered a most gallant resistance to the 'Osmanlis ;
jcd the but, possessing no artillery, which they disdained as un-
Hejii. becoming men of valour, they were defeated in a series
of engagements, and Selim and his army entered Cairo as
conquerors in 1517 (923). The results of this war were
momentous and far-reaching : the Ottoman empire was
greatly increased by the addition of Egypt, Syria, and the
Hejiz, of all of which the Memluks had been lords ; the
caliphate of Islim was won for the house of 'Osmin, Selfra
constraining the representative of the old 'Abbdsid family,
who resided, a purely spiritual prince, at Cairo, to make
over to him and his heirs the rights and privileges of the
successors of the Prophet. The sultan at the same time
acquired from him the sacred banner and other relics of
the founder of Islam, which had been handed down to the
Arabian prince from his fathers, and which are now pre-
served in the seraglio at Constantinople. On his return
Selim set himself to strengthen and improve his fleet,
doubtless with a view to the conquest of Rhodes. He
died, however, in 1520 (928), before his extensive prepara-
tions were completed. This sultan reigned only eight
years, but in that short time he almost doubled the extent
of the Ottoman empire.
suJey- Suleymin 1 , who succeeded his father Selim as sultan,
■*° '■ had not been long on the throne before he found himself
involved in a war with the king of Hungary. He marched
northwards with a powerful army and wrested from the
enomy several places of importance, including the strongly
fortifled city of Belgrade. Having left a large garrison
in this city, which was regarded as the key to the Chris-
tian lands north of the Danube, the sultan returned to
Constantinople, where he continued his father's work of
Con- creating a strong and eSicient Ottoman fleet. When all
quest of was ready SuleymAn set out for Rhodes, determined to
Rhodes, wipe away the disgrace of his ancestor's second failure, as
be had done that of his first. The conquest of Egypt had,
moreover, rendered the possession of Rhodes necessary to
'.be Turks, as the passage between Constantinople and
their new acquisition could never be safe so long as that
island remained in hostile hands. The Knights of St
John met the attack in a manner worthy of their illustri-
ous order ; but the overwhelming force of the Ottomans and
the hopelessness of any relief compelled them to accept the
sultan's terms. These were highly honourable to the de-
fenders, who were permitted to retire unmolested, while
Suleymin pledged himself to respect the Christian religion
in the island, which now, 1522 (929), became his. Four
years after the conquest of Rhodes the sultan again
invaded Hungary, where in the renowned battle of Mohacz
he annihilated the army of the Magyars and slew their
king. Thence he marched along the Danube to Buda-
Pesth, which opened its gates to him, and there he rested
a little while before starting on his homeward way The
disturbed state of Asia Minor hastened Suleymiln's depart-
ure , but in three years (1529) he was back at Buda, osten
sibly as the ally of Zapolya, an Hungarian who claimed
the throne left vacant by Louis, who fell at Mohacz.
Ferdinand of Austria had opposed the claim of Zapolya,
who thereon had applied to the sultan for aid, which that
monarch was most willing to accord The troops ol
Ferdinand being driven from Buda, Suleymin, accom-
panied by bis prot^g^, advanced upon Vienna. On 27th
September 1529 the vast Turkish host, under the personal
command of one of the greatest of the family of 'Osmdn,
laid siege to the capital of the German empire, and on tba
l4th of the following month, after a most desperate assault
carried on for four days, the invaders were compelled to
retire, leaving the city in the possession of its heroic
defenders. The torrent of Turkish military might had
now reached its northern limit . once again it vainly swept
round the walls of Vienna, but further it never went
Suleymin next directed his arms against Persia, from
which country he won a large portion of Armenia and 'Irak '
as well as BaghdAd, the old capital of the 'Abb4sid caliphs.
In 1542 he was again in Hungary, having been appealed
to by the widow of Zapolya on behalf of her infant son
against the pretensions of Ferdinand. Suleymin promised
to place the child upon the throne when he should be of a
proper age ; in the meantime he treated Hungary as ar
Ottoman province, dividing it into sanjaks or military dis
tricts, and garrisoning Buda and other important cities
with Turkish troops. Six years later a truce for five year*
was concluded between the sultan and Ferdinand, whereby
almost all Hungary and Transylvania were made over to
the former, who was also to receive a yearly present, or
more correctly tribute, of thirty thousand ducats. The
Turks, now at the zenith of their power, were the terror of
all around them. The achievements of the Ottoman navy
during the reign of Suleymin were hardly, if at all, less Anncj*
remarkable than those of the army. Kbayr-ud-Din, tbe'">oof
Barbarossa of the Europeans, won Algiers for Turkey, and^l"'"
held the Mediterranean against the fleets of Spain and Tripoli
Italy , Torghud added Tripoli to the empire , and Piyila
routed the galleys of Genoa, Florence, Naples, and Malta
off the isle of Jerba. But fortune did not always smile
upon the crescent. In 1565 (973) Suleymin sustained
the second great check be was destined to encounter. The
Turks once more measured swords with the Knights of St
John and drove them from Malta, which had been given
to the order by Charles V on its expulsion from Rhodes.
A powerful Turkish army and fleet, commanded by oSicers
of renown, were accordingly despatched to win Malta for
the Ottoman crown ; but so valiantly was it defended that
the Turks were forced to withdraw with a loss of twenty-
five thousand men. Suleymin died in harness. In 1566
(974), when seventy-six years of age, he entered Hungary
for the last time, summoned thither to aid bis vassal, young
Sigismund Zapolya. Sziget, a place which had foiled the
Turks on previous occasions, was the first object of attack.
Count Zrinyi, the governor, determined to resist to the last,
644
TURKEY
[distory.
(O the OttoiTiana found themselves compelled to undertake
the siege of this comparatively unimportant town. There
on the night of 4th September the great sultan died, and
a few Lours later Count Zrinyi and bis brave companions
perished amid the smoking ruins of the fortress they had
most nobly held. Under SuleymAn I., whom Eurojican
historians call the Magnificent, but whom his own people
style KAniinI or the Lawgiver, the Turkish empire attained
the summit of its power and glory. The two great dis-
asters, at Vienna and Malta, were eclipsed by the number
and brilliancy of the sultan's victories, by which large and
important additions were made to the empire in Europe,
Asia, and Africa.
Sclioi Selim II., the unworthy son and successor of the Magni-
"• ficent SuleymAn, was the first Ottoman monarch who
shrank from leading his army in person. Ue was a man
of mean and ignoble character, whose sole pleasure seems
to have consisted in the indulgence of his degraded tastes
ind vicious appetites. The first conflict between the Turks
and the Russians occurred in his reign. In view of a
threatened war with Persia, the grand vizier ^okolli con-
ceived tlie idea of uniting the rivers Don and Volga by a
canal, by means of which an Ottoman fleet could be sent
into the Caspian. Buf in order to carry out this scheme
it was necessary that the town of Astrakhan should be in
the hands of the Turks. A considerable force was accord-
ingly despatched from Constantinople to take possession
of that city; but the Russian army which Ivan the
Terrible sent to its relief drove back the Turks and their
Tatar allies from before the walls, 15G9 (977). Cyprus
was the next object of attack. This island, which belonged
to Venice, was assailed and taken, though not without
heavy loss, at a time of peace between the republic and
the Porte, 1J70-7I (978). The Christian powers of the
Mediterranean were roused and alarmed by this act of
treachery, and a maritime league was formed through the
Eti'orts of Pope Pius V., with Spain, Venice, and Malta for
its most important members. On 7th October 1571 the
Christian fleet, under the command of Don John of Austria,
encountered the Ottoman ships, led by the galley of the
feapudan pasha, Mu'czzin-zida 'All, just outside the Gulf
of Lepanto. A furious conflict ensued, which resulted in
the utter defeat of the Turks, their admiral being killed
and their fleet almost anndjilated. This famous fight,
although it brought little immediate material advantage
to the victors, was of the highest moral value to them ; for
it broke the spell of Barbarossa, and showed that the
Ottoman was no longer invincible on the seas. The only
other event of imjiortance during this reign was the final
conquest of Tunis for Turkey by Kilij 'All, who won it
from the Spaniards in 1574 (982). Selim II. died miser-
ably the same year.
Murid Mur.ld III., who now succeeded to the Ottoman throne,
'"■ was no improvement upon his father ; he ruled in name
only, all real power being in the hands of worthless favour-
ites. As a natural consequence the empire began rapidly
to decay ; corruption infected all ranks of official society,
the sultan himself selling his favours for bribes; while
the other great curse of old Turkey, military insubordiua-
tion, showed itself in a more threatening aspect than ever.
The janissaries mutinied on several occasions, and each
lime compelled the weak Murid to accede to their demand.
Notwithstanding this wretched state of afl"airs, some exten-
sive and important, though not permanent, additions were
made to the empire. These; consisting of Azerbijan and
Georgia — the latter had been in alliance with Persia — were
the result of a campaign against the last-named country,
the internal condition of which was then even worse than
that of Turkey. Transylvania, Moldavia, and VValachia
rose in revolt, encouraged by the war which broke out in
1593 between Turkey and Austria, In 1594 hostilities
with Persia were resumed ; and early in the following
year MurAd died, leaving the empire to his eldest son
Muliamnied III.
Things had been going very badly in tin- war with Muharo-
Austria, when in June 1596 the grand vizier and the mufti, •""I m-
joining their voices with that of Sa'dud-DIn the historian,
prevailed upon the new sultan, whose character resembled
only too closely that of his father, to place himself at the
head of the Ottoman army which was about to march into
Hungary. Four months later Muhammed met the imperi-
alists under the archduke Maximilian, and the TransyN
vanians led by Prince Sigismund, on the marshy plain ol
Keresztes, where a battle lasting three days took place.
Although at one time things looked so hopeless for the
Turks that the sultan would have fled but for the entreatiea
and remonstrances of Sa'd-ud-DIn, the 'Osroinlis gained
a complete and decisive victory. But nothing came of
it; for Muhammed, instead of following up his success,
hastened back to Constantinople to receive the congratu-
lations of his courtiers and to resume his indolent and
voluptuous life. Nothing else worthy of note occurred
during his inglorious reign. He died in 1603 (1012).
Muhammed III. was the last heir to the Ottoman
throne who was entrusted with the government of a pro-
vince during his father's lifetime ; henceforth all the sons
of the sultan were kept secluded in a pavilion called the
Kafes or cage ia the seraglio gardens. This new system,
which was necessarily very prejudicial to the character of
the future rulers, had its origin in the same dread of rivals
that caused a sultan in those times to put all his brothers
to death immediately on his accession.
The reign of Alimed I. is not marked by any event of Ahnie.i'
importance. The peace of Sitavorok (Zsitvatorot) between
Turkey and Austria, 1606 (1015), made no change of any
moment in the territorial possessions of either power, but
is interesting as being the first treaty in which an Ottoman
sultan condescended to meet a Christian prince on a footing
of equality. Hitherto the Turkish monarchs had aflected ■
to grant merely short truces to their European enemies.
But this peace was to be permanent ; the annual |)ayment
or tribute of thirty thousand ducats by Austria was to be
discontinued ; and the ambassadors sent from the Porto
were now to be olEcials of rank, and not, as formerly,
menials of the palace or camp.
Ahmed died in 1617 (1026) and was succeeded by his Musla/*
brother Mustafa I. Up till this time the succession bad J-
been regularly from father to son ; but, as Mustafa's life
had been spared by his brother on his accession, that prince
now ascended the throne in preference to 'OsmAn, the
eldest son of Ahmed I. This arose from the peculiar nature
of the Turkish law of succession, which gives the throne
to the eldest male relative of the deceased sovereign.
Mustafa was, however, imbecile; so after a reign of three
months he was deposed, and his nephew 'OsmAn, though
only fourteen years of age, seated on the throne in his
stead.
An unsuccessful war with Persia, which had been going 'Osmii
on for some time, was now brought to an end by a treaty "•
which restored to the shAh all the territories conquered
since the days of Selim 11. In 1621 the sultan led his
troops against Poland, partially with the view of weaken-
ing the janissaries, whom he justly regarded as the most
deadly enemies of his empire. This expedition was not
attended by any important results, neitlicr Turks nor Poles
gaining a decisive advantage. On his return 'OsmAn
formed another plan for freeing himself from his tyranni-
cal soldiery: he gave out that he was going to make the
pilgrimage to Mecca, but his real intention was to proceed
only as far as Damascus, there place himself at the bead
1566 1687]
TURKEY
645
of an Asiatic army, and march against the janissaries and
si])4hl3 in Constantinople. But the janissaries heard of
this design and rose in revolt. Incited by a vizier whom
'OsmAn had- deposed, they seized their sovereign and
dragged him to the state prison of the Seven Towers,
where shortly afterwards he was foully murdered by the
traitor minister, 1622 (1031).
The wretched Mustafa was again raised to the throne,
only to bo deposed fifteen months afterwards in favour of
MurAd, the eldest surviving brother of 'OsniAn.
ISarii In MurAd IV., who succeeded to the supreme power in
^- 1623 (1032), when a child of eleven years, Turkey had
once more a sultan of the old 'OsmAnli type. Since the.
death of Suleymin the empire had been cursed with a suc-
cession of rois faineants, under whom it had rapidly fallen
to decay. The vigour and courage of the new sultan
stayed it for a "while upon its downward course, and re-
stored to it something of its bygone glory. While still
quite young, MurAd had been compelled by the mutinous
janissaries to deliver into their cruel hands his favourite
vizier, HAfiz Pasha. This embittered him against that
corps, and, when soon afterwards the soldiers began openly
to discuss his deposition, MurAd swiftly and suddenly cut
off the ringleaders and all others whom he suspected of
disloyally; this struck fear into the hearts of the dis-
affected soldiers, who, finding themselves without any to
organize or direct them, returned to their allegiance.
MurAd next turned his attention to checking the intoler-
able corruption and abuses which pervaded every depart-
ment of the state. He had but one simple though terribly
drastic method of refcrm, — the execution of every official
whom he even suspected of any malpractice. Having re-
stored some sort of order in his capital, MurAd marched
agamst Persia and recaptured the city and district of
Erivan. In 163S (lOIS) he undertook a second and more
imiMjrtant campaign against the same power. His object
was the recovery of Baghdid, "which had been -taken by
the shAli's troops some si.xteen years before. The Persians
resisted long and gallantly, but at length the Turks carried
the city by storm, when MurAd disgraced himself by the
slaughter of a vast number of the inhabitants. ' By the
peace which followed Turkey restored Erivan to Persia,
but retained Baghd.Ad, which has been in its Lands ever
since. Mur.Ad on his return entered Constantinople in
triumph. Tbis sultan died in 1040(1040); his death is
said to have been hastened by habits of intemperance,
which he had contracted towards the close of his life,
fbrililm. IbrAhiin, the brother of the late sultan, now mounted
the Ottoman throne. He was another of those wretched
princes who gave themselves up to the indulgence of their
0".vn follies and vices without bestowing a thought n|ion
the welfare of their people or the prosperity of their
country. All the evils that had been curbed for a time
by the stern hand of MurAd broke out afresh and in wor.'ic
form than before. The sultan himself was the most venal
of the venal. Shut up in the seraglio, he tliouglit of
nothing but the gratification of his own and his favourites'
caprices, gem-encrusted coaches and ])lcasurc- boats, and
carpets and hangings of richest sable for his rooms, were
among the objects for which he plundered his people and
Bold every office to the highest bidder. This went on for
eight years, till at length his subjcct.s, weary of his ex-
actions and tyranny, deposed Iiim, and made his son Mu-
liammcd, then only seven years of age, sultan in his room.
The only events of note that occurred during IbrAhlm's
tenure of power are the capture of Azoff from the Cossacks
imd the occupation of Crete. This island, which was then
in the hands of Venice, was soon overrun, but it was not
till Weil on in the next reign, after a siege of twenty years,
that the Ottomans succeeded in taking Candia the capital.
The minority of Muhammed IV., -who became sultan in Muliam-
164S (1058), was marked by all the troubles and evils that med 'V.
might have been anticipated, until the grand vizierate was
conferred on Koprili Muhammed in 1G56 (1067). This
statesman, who was seventy years old when he entered
upon the duties of prime minister of Turkey, was the
founder of an illustrious family of viziers, whose integrity
and strength of character did much to counteract the per-
nicious inOuence of degenerate sultans and to prop up for
a season the declining empire. Old Kciprili accepted the
office of grand vizier only upon condition of receiving abso-
lute power; this he employed much in the same way as
MurAd IV. had done when he set about the work. of reform:
he executed every one who fell under his suspicion. He
died in 1G6! (1072), leaving the vizierate to his son FAzil
Ahmed. Alimed was, like his father, a man of great
ability, and happily for Turkey he enjoyed the complete
confidence of the young sultan, who cared for notbing but
the chase, whence he is called in the Ottoman histories
Avji Muhammed or Muhammed the Huntsman. Before
long Alimed was called on to lead the Turkish army
against Austria. He took Neuhiiusel and several places
of little importance ; but near the convent of St Ootthard
(on the Raab) he was completely defeated in 1G64 (1075)
by a smaller Christian force under Montccuculi. A truce
for twenty years on the basis of the treaty of Sitavorok
was the result of this battle ; the Ottomans, however, re-
tained Neuhiiusel. Ahmed next appeared in arms in Crete,
for the purpose of bringing to a close the siege of Candia,
which had been going on ever since 1648 ; but it was not
till other three years had passed that the brave garrison
opened the gates to the grand vizier, in 1669 (1079). The
sultart himself was induced to head the next campaign,
which was undertaken on behalf of the Cossacks of the
Ukraine, who had craved the protection of tlie Porte
against Poland. The Turks took the cities of Kamenetz
and Lcmberg, whereupon King Michael sued for peace,
1672 (1083), and promised to make over Podolia and tlie
Ukraine to Turkey and to pay an annual tribute of 220,000
ducats. The sultan accepted these terms and returned
home in triumph ; but the Poles refused to be bound by
them, and under the command of Sobieski they attacked
and defeated the troops of Ahmed Pasha. Tbe war lasted
till 1676, when it was brought to an end by the treaty of
Zurawno, which left the sultan in possession of Podolia and
almost all the Ukraine. Three days after this peace was
signed Ahmed Pasha died. Few men have done more to
ruin their country than Kara Mustafa, who succeeded
Ahmed in the grand vizierate. His pet scheme was the
conquest of Germany and the establishment of a great
Turkish province between the Danube and the Pliine, wilh
himself as nominal viceroy but virtual sovereign. He
accordingly marched with an enormous army, probably not Siege of
far off half a million strong, against Vienna. In the Vienna,
summer of 1683 (1094) this mighty host appeared before
the walls of the Austrian capital. For an account of the
siege, see vol. xix. p. 296. A few weeks after his discom-
fiture Kara Mustafa was executed at Belgrade by the
sultan's order.s. Venice and Russia now declared war
against Turkey ; misfortune followed misfortune ; city after
city was rent away from the empire ; the Auslrians were
in possession of almost the whole of Hungary, the Italians
of almost all the Morea. At length a severe defeat at
Mohacz, where SuleymAn had triumphed years before,
exhausted the patience of tbe soldiery, and JIuhammed
IV. was deposed in IGS'/ (1099).
The first year of the reign cf SuleymAn II., who sue- Snl«y-
cecded his brother, was marked by a serious mutiny of the '^^o I^
janissaries of the capital, who, aided by the dregs of the
population, created a reign of terror in Constantinople,
646
TURKEY
[histobt.
during wliich they pillaged the palaces of the principal
oflBcers of the government and murdered the grand vizier,
along with many of the members of his household. The
Austrians, under Charles of Lorraine, Louis of Baden, and
Prince Eugene, were carrying all before them in the north :
Eriau, Belgrade, and Stuhlweissenburg fell into their hands;
and by the end of 1689 the Ottomans had lost almost all
their former possessions beyond the Danube. Meanwhile
the Venetian leader, Morosini, was equally successful in the
Morea, completing the conquest of that province, which he
added to the dominions of St Mark. When matters had
come to this pass, the sultan summoned an extraordinary
meeting of the divan to consult on the measures to be
taken to meet the danger threatening on every hand. By
the unanimous advice of his ministers, Suleymin appointed
to the grand vizierate Koprilizida Mustafa, another son of
old Koprili Muhammed. This statesman, who had beer
trained in the duties of office under his father and brother,
worthily upheld the high name of his house. He gave up
the whole of his gold and silver plate to be coined into
monev wherewith to pay the troops ; he sought out the
best men to fill positions of trust and responsibility in the
army and navy ; '.nd he exercised and encouraged a wise
and just policy of toleration towards the Christian subjects
of tiie sultan. Such was the confidence which his high
character ar.d illustrious connexion inspired that large
numbers of volunteers hastened to join the Turkish hosts ;
and in a very few weeks from the time when he took com-
mand of the army Mustafa had driven the Austrians out
of Servia, and Belgrade once more received a garrison of
Ottoman troops. Mustafa returned in triumph to Con-
stantinople, where, early in the summer of 1691 ^1102),
SuleymAn II. died, and was succeeded on the throne by
his brother Ahmed II.
Ahmed The most important event which occurred during the
" brief and disastrous reign of this monarch was the defeat
and death at Slankamen (Szlankament) of Koprili-zida
Mustafa, who in .August 1691 advanced from Belgrade to
attack the .\ustrians under Louis of Baden. The un-
fortunate rtsult of the battle was in great measure owing
to the rashness of the vizier, who, in opposition to the
advice of the oldest and most experienced of his officers,
refused to await behind the lines the attack of the enemy.
The Ottomans fought with despsrate courage ; but the day
was decided against them by the death of Mustafa, who
was shot while cutting his way through the Christian ranks.
Ahmed 11, reigned for four years, during which the hapless
empire, besides continuing to suffer defeat at the hands of
foreign foes, was visited with the eurses of pestilence and
"domestic insurrection
Mosufa On the death of Ahmed II. in the year 1695 (1106)
■ 31 " Mustafa II., son of >iuliammed IV., was girt with the
sword of 'Osmiln The new sultan, aware of the pitiful
condition to which the empire had sunk, in part, at
least, through the negligence and indifference of his pre-
decessors, resohed to restore the old Ottoman usages, and
placed himself at the head of his armies. His first cam-
paign was altogether successful . he recaptured several
important fortresses and totally defeated a great Austrian
army During the following winter he worked hard to
repair the finances and bring the forces of the empire
into a higher state of efficiency ; and, when he set out in
the spring against the Austrians, fortune continued to
smile upon his banners. He defeated the duke of Saxe,
raised the siege of Temesvar, and strengthened the garri-
sons of those fortresses which Turkey still held in
Hungary. But in the next year, 1697, all was changed :
Prince Eugene was at the head of the Austrians, and on
the banks of the Theiss, near Zenta, the Turks sustained
an overwhelming defeat, which compelled the sultan to
retreat to Temesvar. Thence he returned to Constanfr
nople, and never again led an army against the enemy.
Recourse was onco more had to the house of Koprili, and
Amuja-zdda Huseyn, a nephew of old Koprili Muiiammed,
was promoted to the grand vizierate. Huseyn raised ftesh
troops ; but he saw that what was really needful was peace,
and this he succeeded in bringing about At Carlowitz Peac' ■ '
on 26th January 1699 a peace was arranged, through the^^''
intervention of England and Holland, between Turkey
on the one hand apj Austria, Venice, Russia, and Poland
on the other. The basis of the treaty, agreed to with
certain modifications, was that each power should retain
the territories in its possessic'n at the time of opening
negotiations. This arrangement left Austria in possession
of Transylvania and almost all Hungary and Slavonia ;
Venice remained mistress of its conquests in Dalmatia
and the Morea ; Poland received Podolia ; and Russia,
which under Peter the Great was only now becoming con-
scious'of its strength, retained AzoSi which it had wrested
from Turkey three years before. Huseyn Pasha took
advantage of the restoration of peace to check the disorders
which had sprung up in various parts of the empire, and
to endeavour to effect much- needed reforms in many de-
partments of the state. But unfortunately his efforts were
thwarted by others less disinterested than himself ; and,
broken-hearted by the calamities of his country, he retired
from office three years after the peace of Carlowitz, and
very shortly afterwards died. Mustafa II. very soon
followed the example" of his minister, and abdicated in
1703 (1115) in favour of his brother Ahmed III.
Although the peace of the empire was often broker Aimed
during his reign, Ahmed III. was uot of a warlike disposi-
tion, and all the representations and entreaties of Charles
XII. of Sweden, who after the disaster of Pultowa had
taken refuge in Turkey, failed to induce him to re-open
hostilities with the czar. In 1710 Nu'min Pasha, son of
Amuja-zAda Huseyn, and the last of the Koprili family, was
appointed grand vizier. Though able and tolerant, he was
so much addicted to interfering in the business of his sub-
ordinates that he became the object of general dislike,
and w-as dismissed from his office after holding it for four-
teen months. The menacing preparations of Russia in the
south had more influence with the Porte than the prayers
of the Swedish king, and in 1711 the new grand vizier,
Baltaji Muhammed, marched into Moldavia to meet the
forces of Peter the Great, who had formed an entrenched
camp near the village of Hush, on the right bank of the
Pruth. Here the vizier blockaded him, and after two days'
severe fighting compelled him to .'•urrender with all his
army. By the treaty which' followed the czar pledged
himself, among other things, to restore the fortress of ."^zofl
and its dependencies to the sultan, and to <:rant the king
of Sweden a free and safe passage to his own country
through the Muscovite dominions. The lenity of Baltaji
Muhammed in not destroying the czar and his army when
they were within his grasp caused such discontent at Con-
stantinople that he was dismissed from the vizierate, which
was conferred on 'All Pasha, known as Dim4d 'All or 'All
the Son-in-Law, from the circumstance of bis having
married a daughter of the sultan. This vizier distinguished
himself by winning back from Venice the whole of the
Morea in a single campaign (1715). His next venture,
a war against Aus» a, undertaken in the following year,
had a very different issue, he himself being slain and his
army routed in a great battle at Peterwardcin. Next year
Prince Eugene, the conqueror of DAm4d 'Ali, laid siege to
Belgrade, which he forced to capitulate after driving off a
large army sent by the Turks to its relief. These cvente Treaty of
led to the peace oi rassarowiU . i !71S, by which Austria ^^•
acquired that portion of Hiing..iy which had remained in
1687-1791.
TURKEY
647
MAluaid
t
Wan
nth
Msstals
Ut"
Coaqnest
ofCrimea
by
Sassga,
the possession of Turkey, as ^ell as extensive territories in
Servia and VTalachia. The grand vizier Ibrihim, another
son-m-law of the sultan, who was at the head of affairs from
17 IS to 1730, contrived to secure for the empire an un-
usually long respite from internal disorders ; but the sultan's
love of costly pomp and splendour and the luxurious magni-
ficence of his court rendered him so unpopular that, in
consequence of a riot in the autumn of 1730 (1143), he
voluntarily abdicated the throne, and his nephew MahmUd
L became pidishdh in his stead. (e. j. w. g.)
Hiitory from 1718
With the treaty of Passarowitz the Venetian republic
disappears from the scene of Turkish warfare. Russia
gradually becomes a more formidable enemy than Austria ;
and the subject Christian races imperceptibly enter on the
fii«t stages of national consolidation and revivaL After
the long and resultless war with Persia hostilities again
broke out with Russia in 1736 Marshal Munnich stormed
the lines of Perekop and devastated the Crimea ; but he
was unable to mamtaiii his army there and retreated ^-ith
greatly diminished forces. Azoff was taken by General
lAscy , and in the following year Otchakoff fell into the
hands of Mimnich, while the Crimea was again invaded
and ravaged Austria now joined Russia, and the Porte
had to sustain a war in Servia and Bosnia as well as on
the coasts of the Black Sea. The double combat was
earned on with very different results. While the Russians
won victory after victory, and finally penetrated into the
heart of Moldavia, the Austrians were defeated and driven
across the Danube. On their advancing from Belgrade
in the summer of 1739 they were defeated with great loss
at Krotzka, and compelled to sue for peace. The treaty
of Belgrade, which was signed on 1st September 1739,
restored to the Porte Belgrade and Orsova, with the
portions of Servia, Bosnia, and Walachia which it had
ceded to Austria at the peace of Passarowitz. Russia,
unable to continue the war with a victorious Turkish army
ready to fall upon its flank, had to conclude peace on very
moderate terms. It received Azoff, but under a stipulation
that the fortifications should be razed, and that no Russian
vessels of war should be kept either on the Black Sea or
on the Sea of Azoff The peace was the last advantageous
one made by the Porte without allies , and the succeeding
thirty years were on the whole a period of respite from
misfortune.
After this followed the wars with the empress Catherine,
before whose genius and resources it seemed as if Turkey
must inevitably sink mto nothingness. The first contest
was provoked by the armed intervention of the empress in
Polish affairs and her well-known intrigues with rebellious
subjects of the Porte. War was rashly declared by Mustafa
m. in October 1768. In 1769 the Russians entered
Moldavia and captured the fortress of Choczin (Chotim) ;
in the following year their armies made good the conquest
of Moldavia and Walachia, while a fleet from the Baltic
entered the Greek Archipelago and landed troops in the
Morea. The Greeks of the Morea rose in insurrection ;
they were, however, overpowered, and the small Russian
force withdrew, leaving the Greeks to the vengeance of
their conquerors. At sea the Turks suffered a severe defeat
near Chios, and their fleet was subsequently blockaded and
set on fire in the Bay of Tchesme, the principal officers in
the Russian navy being Englishmen. Assistance was,
moreover, given by the Russians to All Bey, a Mameluke
chieftain who was in rebellion against the Porte in Egypt,
and to Tahir, a sheikh who had made himself independent
at Acre. In 1771 the Russians invaded and conquered
the Crimea. Austria now took alarm, and signed a con-
vention with the Porte preparatory to armed intervention.
But the partition of Poland reunited the three neighbour-
ing Christian powers and prevented a general war. An
armistice was agreed upon between Russia and the Porte^
and negotiations followed. These were broken off in 1773.
The Russians crossed the Danube, and, though unsuccess-
ful in their attempts upon Silistria and Varna, so com-
pletely defeated the Turkish forces in the field that on
21st July 1774 the Porte concluded peace at Kutchuk-
Kainardji under conditions more unfavourable than those
which it had rejected in the previous year. The Tartar
territory of the Crimea, with Kuban and the adjoining
districts, was made into an independent state, Russia
retaining Azofii Kertch, and KinburiL Moldavia and
Walachia were restored, but on the condition that, as
occasion might require, the Russian minister at Constan-
tinople might remonstrate in their favour. Russia, in fact,
was given a species of protectorate over these provinces.
Permission was given to Russia to erect a church in Con-
stantinople, and the following engagement was made .
" The Porte promises to protect the Christian religion and
its churches ; and it also allows the court of Russia to
make nf>on all occasions representations as well in favour
of the new church at Constantinople as on behalf of its
ministers, promising to take such representations into con-
sideration." Out' of this clause arose the claim of Russia
to the right of protection over all the Christian subjects
of the Porte, though the specific right of intervention was
clearly attached only to a smgle church and its ministers.
By other clauses in the treaty the obligations restraining
Russia from making fortifications and placing ships of war
on the Black Sea were annulled. It received the right
of free navigation for its merchant ships on all Turkish
waters, and the right of placing consuls at all Turkish
ports. These last two conditions were of great historical
importance through their effect upon Greece. The consuls
appointed were usually Greek traders, and permission to
carry the Russian flag was indiscriminately given to Greek
vessels. Hence there followed that great development of
Greek commerce, and of the Greek merchant navy, which
in half a century made the insurgent Greeks more than a
match for the Turks at sea.
The stipulation that the Crimea and adjoining districts
should be made into an independent state was of course
not mtended by Russia to be anything more than a veil for
annexation , and in 1783 Catherine united this territory to
her dominions. She had now definitely formed the plan
of extinguishing Turkish sovereignty in Europe and placing
her younger grandson on the throne of a .restored Greek
kingdom. The boy was named Constantine; his whole
education was Greek and such as to fit him for the throne
of Constantinople. Joseph n. of Austria threw himself W«r«itk
eagerly into the plan for a partition of the Ottoman empire, Rc^si*
and in 1788 followed Russia into war. While the Russians ^'^^^
besieged Otchakoff, Joseph invaded Bosnia , but he was
unsuccessful and retired ingloriously into Hungary. Otcha.
koff was stormed by Suwaroff on 16th December 1788.
In the following year the Turkish armies were overthrown
by Suwaroff in Moldavia and by the Austrian Laudon
on the south of the Danube. The fate of the Ottoman
empire seemed to tremble in the balance; it was, how-
ever, saved by the convulsions into which Joseph's re^iless
autocracy had thrown his own dominions, and by the triple
alliance of England, Prussia, and Holland, now formed bj
Pitt for the preservation of the balance of power in Europe.
Joseph died in 1790; his successor Leopold EL entered
into negotiations, and concluded peace at Sistova in August
1791, relinquishing all his conquests except a small district
in Croatia. Catherine continued the war alone. Ismail
was captured by Suwaroff with fearful slaughter, and the
Russian armies pushed on south of the Danube. Pitt, with
648
TURKEY
[histoev.
the triple alliance, attempted to impose his mediation on
the empress Catherine, and to induce her to restore all
her conquests. She refused, and both Prussia and Eng-
land armed for war ; but public opinion declared so strongly
against the minister in England that it was impossible for
him to pursue his plan. Catherine nevertheless found it
in her interest to terminate the war with the Porte. Poland
claimed her immediate attention , and, adjourning to a
more convenient season her designs upon Constantinople,
she concluded the treaty of Jassy in January 1792, by
which she added to her empire Otchakoff, with the sea-
board as far as the Dniester. The protectorate of Russia
over Tiflis and Kartalinia was recognized.
Catherine's successor Paul (1796-1801) made it his
business to reverse his mother's policy by abandoning the
Affaire attack on Turkey. Bonaparte's inva.'-ion of Egypt and
in Egypt the destruction of the French fleet by Nelson at the battle
»"<' of the Nile led the Porte to join the second coalition
*''^'" against France. Bonaparte, invading Syria, was checked
and turned back at Acre, where Jezzar Pasha was assisted
in his strenuous defence by an English squadron under
Sir Sidney Smith. A Turkish army was meanwhile trans-
ported from Rhodes to the Egyptian coast. This army was
destroyed by Bonaparte on his return to Egypt at the
battle of Aboukir on 25th July 1799, after which Bona-
parte set sail for France, leaving the Egyptian command
to K16ber. Kl^ber, cut off from all communication with
France and threatened by superior Turkish forces, entered
into a convention at El Arish for the evacuation of Egypt.
This convention, however, was annulled by Lord Keith,
the English admiral, and Kl^ber replied by giving battle
to the Turks and defeating them at Heliopolis on 20th
March 1800 Egypt was finally wrested from the French by
the English expedition under Abercromby, and restored to
the sultan. The Ionian Islands, which France had taken
from Venice at the time of the treaty of Campo Formio,
were conquered by a combined Russian and Turkish force,
and were established as a republic, at fii-st under the joint
protectorate of Russia and the Porte, afterwards under
the sole protectorate of Russia. The former Venetian
ports on the mainland of Epirus and Albania were given up
to Turkey. Somewhat later, under pressure from St Peters-
burg, the sultan undertook not to remove the hospodars,
or governors, of Walachia and Moldavia without consult-
ing Russia, and to allow no Turks except merchants and
traders to enter those territories.
Internal On the restoration of peace France reassumed its ancient
condi- position as the friend and ally of the Porte. The sultan
"o"."' now on the throne, was Selim III. (1789-1807). Though
empire, ^j^^ results of the war of the second coalition had been
favourable to Turkey, the Ottoman empire was in a most
perilous condition. Everywhere the provincial governors
were making themselves independent of the sultan's author-
ity ; a new fanatical sect, the Wahhabees, had arisen in
AJabia and seized upon the holy places ; the janissaries
were rebellious and more formidable to their sovereign
than to a foreign enemy ; and the Christian races were
beginning to aspire to independence. It had seemed
for a while as if the first to rise against the Porte
would be the Greeks, among whom the revolutionary
influences of 1789 and the songs of the poet Rhegas, put
to death by the Turks in 1798, stirred deep feelings of
hatred against their oppressors Circumstances, however,
postponed the Greek revolt and accelerated that of the
Servians. In the country immediately south of the DanucMj
the sultan's authority was defied by the janissaries settled
about Belgrade and by Passwan Oglu, ruler of Widdin
in Bulgaria. The pasha of Servia, hard pressed by these
rebels, called upon the rayas to take up arms in defence
of the sultan They did so, and in 1804 the janissaries
answered by a series of massacres in the Servian vQlagcs.
The Servians now rose as a nation against the janissaries. Serviia
Kara George became their chief, and in combination with «'<>''•
the pasha of Bosnia, acting under the sultan's orders, ex-
terminated the janissaries or drove them out of the
country. Victorious over one oppressor, the Servians re-
fused to submit to another. "They carried on the war
against the sulta.i himself, and at the suggestion of Russia
sent envoys to Constantinople demanding that for the
future the fortresses of Servia should be garrisoned only
by Servian troops.
When the third European coalition against France was DiEcuV
in course of formation Russian and French influences were 'ies «f
in rivalry at Constantinople. The victories of Napoleon j|^'"
in 1805 gave him the ascendency, and his envoy prevailed reign,
upon the sultan to dismiss, without consulting Russia, the
hospodars of Walachia and Moldavia, who were considered
to be agents of the court of St Petersburg. This was a
brea of the engagement made by the sultan in 1802,
and it was followed by the entry of Russian troops .kilo
the principalities. England, as the ally of Russia, sent a
fleet under Admiral Duckworth through the Dardanelles
to threaten Constantinople. While the admiral wasted
time in negotiations, the French ambassador, General
Sebastiani, taught the Turks how to fortify their capital.
The English admiral found that he could do nothing, and
repassed the Dardanelles, sufiering some loss on the passage.
The war on the Danube was not carried on with mud
vigour on either side. Alexander was occupied with thi
struggle against Napoleon on the Vistula; Selim III. was.
face to face with mutiny in Constantinople, having brought
upon .himself the bitter hatred of the janissaries by attempt-
ing to form them into a, body of troops drilled and discip-
lined after the methods of modern armies. While the
military art in Europe had been progressing for centuries,
Turkey had made no other changes in its military system
than those which be! tnged to general decay. Its troops
were a mere horde, capable indeed of a vigorous assault
and of a stubborn defence, but utterly untrained in exer-
cises and manoeuvres, and almost ignorant of the meaning
of discipline. Selim was a reformer in government and
administration as well as in military afiairs He broke
from the t.aditions of his palace, and began a new epoch
in Turkish history ; but the influences opposed to bim
were too strong, and a mutiny of the janissaries in Con
stantinople deprived him of his crown. He was allowed
to live, but as a prisoner, while the puppet of the janit
saries, Mustafa IV., was placed on the throne (May 1807).
A few weeks after this event the treaty of 'Tilsit ended
the war between France and Russia, and provided for thi
nominal mediation of Napoleon between Russia and thi
Porte. A truce followed between the armies on the Danube.
Among the Turkish generals who had understood the neces-
sity of Selim's reforms, and who were prepared to support
him against the janissaries, was Bairaktar, commander at Balr«i.
Rustchuk As soon as the truce gave bim freedom of fr-
action, Bairaktar marched upon Constantinople Leading
his troops against the palace, he demanded the restoration
of Selim. As the palace gates were closed, Bairaktc.r
ordered an assault , but at the moment when his troop.-j
were entering Selim was put to death. Besides Mustafa
there was only one member of the house of Osman remain-
ing, his brother Mahmiid, who concealed himself in the
furnace of a bath until the palace was in the hands of
Bairaktar's soldiers. He was then placed on the throne MabmVid
(July 1808). For a while Bairaktar governed as grand '•
vizier. He was rash enough, however, to dismiss part of
his own soldiers from Constantinople. The janissaries
attacked him in his palace. A tower in which he defended
himself was blown up, and after a battle in the streets of
I
1791-1827.]
TURKEY
649
Constantinople between the janissaries and the remainder
of Bairaktar's troops, during which the dethroned sultan
Mustafa was put to death, the janissaries remained con-
querors, and ^fahmdd was forced to submit to their de-
mands. The innovations of the late reign were abolished,
and for a while Mahmiid seemed content to reign as ser-
vant of the reaction.
It is well known that plans for the partition of the Otto-
man empire occupied Napoleon and Alexander at Tilsit.
Austria, though unwilling to see Russia aggrandized, was
prepared in the last resort to combine with the dismember-
ing powers, if all attempts to prevent the execution of the
plan by diplomatic means should fail. But after a few
years the alliance declined and a war between France and
Russia was seen to be inevitable. Meanwhile the conflict
on the Danube had been resumed, and the Servians were
still in arms. The Russians had advanced into Bulgaria
and captured Silistria. England, which had made peace
with Turkey in 1809, sought to reconcile the belligerents,
in order that the czar might be free to employ his whole
Peace of force against Napoleon. In May 1812a treaty was signed
Bacha- at Bucharest,' by which Bessarabia was ceded to Russia,
""^ the river Pruth becoming the boundary of the two empires.
The Porte in this treaty promised to grant an amnesty to
the Servians, to leave to them the management of their
internal affairs, and to impose upon them only moderate
taxes. These promises, however, were neither accepted
by the Servians as a sufficient concession, nor were they
observed by the Porte. The Servians continued to fight,
and ultimately secured their autonomy about 1817 without
help from Russia,
tfahmiid's Mahmiid II. (1808-1839) was the only sultan of modern
"•'•• times who possessed the qualities of a great ruler. Brought
up in the seclusion of the seraglio till the age of twenty-
three, when he was suddenly placed on" the throne, it is
surprising that he should have shown the power, the re-
solution, and the intelligence which marked his govern-
ment. The difficulties of his reign were enormous. He
belonged to an epoch when the Ottoman empire might
fairly be considered as in actual dissolution. This he to
some extent arrested, and the reforms which he effected,
partial and imperfect as they were, have prolonged the
existence of the lurkish state to our own day. The first
and most obvious internal danger to be met was the insub-
ordination of the provincial pashas. Against these rebelli-
ous servants Mahmiid waged a persistent and unwearying
war, now employing them against one another, now crush-
ing them by his own armed force. One of the most for-
AliPasba midable was AJi Pasha of Janina, who had made himself
ofJanina. master of Albania and part of Greece. When Mahmiid
in 1820 threw his armies upon this chieftain, the outbreak
of hostilities in Epirus was the signal for the insurrection
of Greece. While Hypsilanti, grandson of a hospodar of
Moldavia who had been put to death by the Porte, raised
the standard of revolt in Moldavia, asserting that Russia
had promised the Christians its support, the Greeks of
Oreek re the Morea rose and exterminated the Turkish population
among them. Hypsilanti was soon crushed , and the ris-
ing in the Morea was answered by massacres of the Greeks
in the principal cities of the empire, and by the execution
of Gregory, patriarch of Constantinople, the head of the
Greek Church. These deeds of violence excited the utmost
indignation in Russia. A despatch was sent to 'Constanti-
nople, calling upon the Porte to restore the churches which
had been destroyed, to guarantee the inviolability of
Christian worship in the future, and to discriminate in its
•punishments between the innocent and the guilty. These
demands were presented as an ultimatum by the Russian
ambassador, who, not receiving an answer within the time
allowed, quitted Constantinople (27th July 1821). The
toIl
influence of Austria and England, however, restrained the
emperor Alexander from declaring war, and the Greeks
were left to sustain their combat by themselves. As long
as Ali Pasha was unsubdued, the only forces which the
sultan could employ against the Greeks were irregular
bands of volunteers. It was by one of these hordes that
the fearful massacres of Chios, in the spring of 1822, were
perpetrated. In that same spring, however, the overthrow
and death of Ali set free the regular troops. Two armiea
of considerable strength now moved southwards from
Thessaly, with the object of reducing the country north
of the Gulf of Corinth and then uniting to conquer the
Morea. The western army, commanded by Omer Brionis,
was checked by the Suliotes, and subsequently beaten back
by the defenders of Missolonghi. The eastern army, after
advancing under the command of Dramali into the Morea,
was compelled to retreat. But the passes ib its rear had
been seized by the Greeks , on all sides the enemy closed
in upon it ; and it was only through the disorders of the
Greeks themselves that Dramaii's force escaped annihila-
tion. Of those who survived the encounter most perished
by sickness and famine in the neighbourhood of Corinth.
Nor was the fortune of the Ottomans better at sea. The
destruction of their admiral's vessel with all its crew by
the fire-ship of the Greek captain, Kanaris, caused such
terror that all further attempts to reduce the islands were
abandoned, and the fleet returned to the Dardanelles.
After an interval of ineffective land warfare, the sultao
determined to call upon Meheraet Ali, pasha of Egypt, for
assistance. Mehemet had risen to power in the disturbed
period that followed the expulsion of the French from
Egypt. He had a more powerful fleet than that of his
sovereign, and an army disciplined after the European
system. In calling upon his powerful vassal for help the
sultan must have been aware of the dangers which his ag-
grandizement would involve. Mehemet eagerly responded Meheaiet
to Mahmiid's call ; and his son Ibrihlm, in command of a fli'' 3*-
powerful armament, set sail in the spring of 1824 fromf^'^'**
Alexandria against Crete. This island was rapidly con- xurftey.
quered, and IbrAhlm, after failing in some combined opera-
tions against Samos, crossed ovec to the Morea. Here he
marched across the peninsula, carrying all before him.
Nauplia alone maintained its defence, while the Egyptian
sent out his harrying columns, slaughtering and devastat-
ing in every direction. From the Morea IbrAhlm was
summoned to assist the Turks, who had been for nine
months unsuccessfully engaged in a second siege of Mis-
solonghi. IbrAhIm began his siege- operations in the
beginning of 1826 ; but it was not for three months more
that Missolonghi fell. The tide of Ottoman conquest
moved on eastwards, and the acropolis of Athens capitu-
lated in the following year. But the defence of Misso-
longhi had lasted long enough to bring the powers of
Europe into the field. On the death of the emperor
Alexander at the -end of 1825, Canning sent the duke
of Wellington to St Petersburg to negotiate conditions
of joint diplomatic action on the part of England and
Russia. A protocol signed at St Petersburg on 4th April
1826 fixed the conditions on which the mediation of Great
Britain was to be tendered to the Porte. Greece was to
remain tributary to the sultan, but to be governed by its
own elected authorities and to be independent in its com-
mercial relations. The surviving Turkish population was
to be removed from Greece ; all property belonging to
Turks, whether On the continent or the islands, was to bo
purchased by the Greeks. This protocol was developed
into the treaty of London between England, Russia, and
France, signed in July 1827, by which the three power*
bound themselves to put an end to the conflict in the
East. In pursuance of this treaty the mediation of tb»
\XIII. — 8j
650
TURKEY
[history.
jaDis-
aanea.
War
Rnssia,
powers was offered to the Porte, and an armistice demanded.
It was contemptuously refused. The united fleets of the
powers consequently appeared before Navarino, where Ibrir
him was assembling his forces for an expedition against
Hydra. After a vain attempt at negotiation, they entered
the harbour and fought the battle of Navarino, on 20th
October 1 827, in which the Turco-Egj^jtian fleet was totally
destroyed. Caaning had just died ; his successors could
only speak of Navarino as an " untoward event " and with-
draw from further interference, leaving Russia and the Porte
(ace to face. After a proclamation by the sultan calling
the Mohammedans to arms, war was declared by Russia
in April 1828. The moment was singularly favourable for
Russia, for Mahmiid had, little more than a year before,
goppres- ezterminated the janissaries. After bringing over soldiers
•ion of from Asia to make him secure of victory in the event of
a conflict, he had called upon the janissaries to contribute
a certain number of men to the regiments about to be
formed on the European pattern. The janissaries refused
and raised the standard of rebellion. Mahmud opened
fire on them with cannon, and the slaughter did not cease
until the last of them had perished. The great difiiculty
in the way of a military reorganization was thus removed,
and the newly-modelled regiments were raised to about
40,000 mjen. Small as the army was with which he had
to meet the Russian invasion in 1828, the campaign of that
year was honourable to the Turkish arms. Though Varna
fell into the hands of the Russians, Silistria and Shumla
were successfully defended, and the Russians, after suffering
great losses, were compelled to withdraw to winter quarters
on the Danube. In the following year they advanced
through Bulgaria, defeated the Turks at Kulevtcha, and,
after the surrender of Silistria, crossed the Balkans under
the command of Diebitsch. They reached Adrianople,
which immediately capitulated. Diebitsch, concealing the
real weakness of his force, sent out detachments towards
the Euxine and the .(Egean, while the centre of his army
marched on Constantinople. Had the sultan known the
insignificant number of his enemy, he might safely have
defied him. But the wildest exaggerations were current
in the capital ; Kars and Erzeroum had fallen into the
hands of Paskiewitch, commander of the czar's forces in
Asia ; and in Constantinople the friends of the slaughtered
janissaries threatened revolt. Mahmiid listened to the
advocates of peace, and on 1 4th September hostilities were
Treaty of brought to a close by the treaty of Adrianople. This treaty
Adrian- gave Russia the ports of Anapa and Poti on the eastern
coast of the Black Sea ; but its most important clauses
were those which confirmed and extended the protectorate
of the czar over the Danubian principalities. The ofiice
of hospodar, hitherto tenable for seven years, was now
made an appointment for life, and the sultan undertook to
permit no interference on the part of neighbouring pashas
with these provinces. No fortified point was to be re-
tained by the Turks on the left bank of the Danube ; no
Mussulman was to reside or hold property within the
principalities. The Bosphorus and the Dardanelles were
declared free and open to the merchant ships of all nations.
The Porte further gave its adherence to the treaty of
London relating to Greece, and accepted the act entered
into by the allied powers for regulating the Greek frontier.
An indemnity in money was declared to be owing to Russia;
and by leaving the amount to be fixed by subsequent
agreement Russia retained in its own hands the most
powerful means of enforcing its influence at Constantinople.
The suzerainty over Greece, which the powers had at
first agreed to leave to the sultan, was by common consent
abandoned, and Greece became an independent kingdom.
At the close of eight years of warfare Mahmiid's south-
womost provinces were even more completely severed from
ople.
the empire than Servia and the Danubian principalities.
It was in vain that he had borne the humiliation of calling
upon his vassal, Mehemet Ali, for help, and Mehemet's
reward had now to be paid. Crete was off'ered to him ;
this, however, was far from satisfying his ambition, and
in November 1831 he threw an army under Ibrihlm into
Palestine and began the conquest of Syria. The sultan
now declared Mehemet and his son to be rebels, and de-
spatched an army against them. The first encounter took
place in the valley of the Orontes. The. Turks were put
to the rout, and retired into Cilicia. Ibrdhlm following
gained a second victory at the pass of Beylan, and, after
crossing ilount Taurus, destroyed the last army of the
sultan at Konieh, on 21st December 1832. In this ex-
tremity Mahmiid looked for help to the European powers,
and Russia at once tendered its aid. At the request of
the sultan a Russian fleet appeared before Constantinople.
The French ambassador thereupon threatened to quit the
capital , and finally, under French mediation, terms of
peace were signed with Ibrihlm at Kutaya (April 1833),
the sultan making over to his vassal, not only the whole
of Syria, but also the province of Adana between Mount
Taurus and the Mediterranean.
Scarcely had this treaty been concluded when Russian
influence again won the ascendency at Constantinople, and
a treaty of alliance between Turkey and Russia was signed
at the palace of Unkiar Skelessi, which in fact reduced
Turkey to the condition of a vassal state. The form of
the treaty was skilfully framed to disguise the relation of
dependence which it created and the right of intervention
in the internal affairs of the Ottoman empire which it gave
to Russia. Each power pledged itself to render assistanc*
to the other not only against the attack of an external
enemy but wherever its peace and security might be en-
dangered. Another article declared that, in order tc
diminish the burdens of the Porte, the czar would not
demand .the material help to which the treaty entitled
him, but that in lieu thereof the Porte undertook, when-
ever Russia should be at war, to close the Dardanelles to the
war-ships of afl nations. The control of the Dardanelles
was thus transferred from Turkey to Russia, and the en-
trance to the Black Sea converted into a Russian fortified
outpost. In this treaty, brilliant as it appeared, Russia
had gone. too far. The Western powers declared that they
would not recognize it, and the most strenuous and system-
atic efi'orts were henceforth made both by France and
England to diminish Russian influence in the East. France,
anxious to gain in Egj'pt a counterpoise to England's naval
power in the Mediterranean, made itself the patron and
ally of Mehemet Ali. England adhered to the cause of
the sultan, and on many occasions showed its hostility to
Mehemet. Thus the two Western powers, though both in
antagonism to Russia, were directly in conflict with one
another in their Eastern policy. Mahmud in the mean-
time was steadily preparing to renew the war with his rival.
He obtained the services of Moltke and other Prussian
ofificers in organizing his army, and, after a successful
campaign against the rebellious tribes of Kurdistan, as-
sembled his troops in the spring of 1839 on the upper
Euphrates, and marched against IbrAhlm. In the opera-
tions which followed the advice of the European officers
was persistently disregarded by the pasha in command;
and on 24th June the Turkish army was annihilated by
Ibrdhim at Nisib. To complete the ruin of the empire,
the Turkish admiral, Achmet Fewzi, sailed into the port
of Alex.indria and handed over his fleet to Mehemet AIL
The sultao did not live to hear of the overthrow of his
hopes. He died in the same week in which the battle of
Nisib was fought, leaving the throne to his son 'Abd-ttl-
Mejid (1839-1861).
Conflict
with
Meheiii«i
AU.
Allianet
with
Russia
Renewal
of wtr
Witt
Mehe-
met
1827-1876.]
TURKEY
651
Actkin The very suddennfss of these disasters contributed ulti-
•' ^S ti^itely to the preservation of the Ottoman empire, inas-
^l!~ much as it compelled the powers of Europe to take action.
The French and English fleets appeared in the Dardan-
elles. The czar saw that it was impossible to maintain
the treaty of Unkiar Skelessi, and this treaty was tacitly
abandoned. Russia now addressed itself to the task of
widening the existing differences between France and
England. France insisted on far more favourable condi-
tions for Mehemet A!i than England would allow, demand-
ing that Egypt and all Syria should be given to him in
hereditary dominion, with no further obligation towards
the sultan than the payment of an annual tribute. Russia
and the other powers took part with England, and ulti-
mately, without asking the sanction of France, the four
powers signed a treaty pledging themselves to enforce
npon Mehemet the terms proposed by England, which
practically reduced him to the position of an ordin^iry
pasha in Palestine, while leaving him the hereditary govei n-
ment of Egypt On the publication of this treaty Thiers,
the French minister, prepared for war He was, however,
dismissed by Louis PhUippe, and his successor, Guizot,
accepted the situation. As Mehemet Ali refused to give
up his conquests, an Anglo-Austrian naval squadron was
sent to co-operate with a Turkish force in attacking the
coast-towns of Syria. Acre w-as captured, and IbrAhlm,
assailed by the mountain tribes of the interior, was forced
to retire to Egypt. A convention made between Mehemet
and Sir Charles Napier, who had appeared at Alc^randria
wi 1 part of the fleet, formed the basis of the ultimate
settlement, by which Mehemet, after formal submission
to the sultan, was recognized as hereditary governor of
Egypt. Russia now united with the other powers in a
declaration that the ancient rule of the Ottoman empire,
forbidding the passage of the Dardanelles to the war ships
of all nations, except when the Porte should itself be at
war, was accepted by Europe at large.
Keforms The young sultan entered on his reign nominally as an
°i v^A '"dependent sovereign, but really under the protection of
''' the European powers. His minister, Reshid Pasha, who
had gained in an unusual degree the confidence of Western
statesmen, understood the necessity of bringing the Turkish
system of government more into harmony with the ideas
of the civilized world. An edict, kno\vn as the Haiti-
then/ of Gulhane, announced the speedy establishment of
institutions " which should insure to all subjects of the
eultan perfect .security for their lives, their honour, and
their property, a regular method of collecting the taxes,
and an equally regular method of recruiting the army and
fixing duration of service." Scarcely had tins edict been
published when Reshid was driven from power by a palace
intrigue. His reforming efforts, like those of MahmOd,
were not wholly inefi'ective , yet little was realized in com
parison with what was promised and what was needed
The Turkish Government was soon discredited, and the
intervention of Europe required, by conflicts between the
Christian and Mohammedan tribes in the Lebanon, result-
ing in massacres of the former After the convulsions of
1 848 the sultan incurred the enmity of the autocratic courts
by refusing to give up Kossuth and other e.xiles who h<id
taken refuge within his dominions. The suppression of
the national Hungarian Government by Russia in 1849 had
heightened in the emperor Nicholas the sense of his own
power. He now looked forward to the speedy extinction
of Turkey, and in 1853 proposed to the British ambassador.
Sir H. Seymour, a plan for the division of " the sick man's"
inheritance as soon uS he should expire. Disputes between
France and Russia relating to the rights of the Latin and
Greek Churches in certain sacred places were made the
occasion for the assertion of a formal claim on the part of
the czar to a protectorate over all Christians in Turkey
belonging to the Greek Church. This claim not being
acknowledged by the Porte, a Russian army entered the
Danubian principalities. After inefi'ective negotiations
war was declared by the sultan on 4th October 18.53.
Hostilities commenced in Walachia, and the Turkish fleet
was attacked and destroyed at Sinope. England and France
allied themselves with the Porte, and landed an army at
Varna in the spring of the following year. Silistria was
successfully defended by the Turks; and, on the occupation
of the Danubian principalities by Austria, the allies took
up the offensive and transferred their forces to the Crimea I
The siege of Sebastopol followed, ending in its capture in '
September 1855. Meanwhile Russian and Turkish forces
were opposed in Asia. Kars maintained a gallant defence,
but succumbed to famine two months after the fall of
Sebastopol. The peace of Paris followed, in which Russia
ceded to Turkey the portion of Bessarabia adjacent to the
mouth of the Danube The Black Sea was neutralized,
Russia and the Porte alike engaging to keep no war-ships
and to maintain no arson.als there. The exclusive pro-
tectorate of Russia o^er the Danubian principalities was
abolished, and the autonomy of these provinces, as well as
of Servia, placed under the guarantee of all the powers
Tkf Porte published a firman, the Haiti- Humaiun, profess-
ing to abolish " every distinction making any class of the
subjects of the empire inferior to any other class on account
of their religion, language, and race," and establishing
complete equality between Christians and Mahommedans .
the powers in return declared the Porte admitted to the
advantages of the public law and concert of Europe. The
absurd stipulation was added that no right should thereby
accrue to the powers to interfere either collectively or
separately in the relations of the sultan with his subjects.
The Crimean War gave to part of the Balkan population InternU
twenty years more of national development under the '''^'
slackened grasp of the Porte ; and by extinguishing the " °"
friendship of Austria and Russia it rendered the liberation
of Italy possible. But each direct proviso of the treaty
of Paris seemed made only to be mocked by events.
Scarcely a year passed without some disturbance amopj
the Christian subjects of the sultan, in which the mterfer
ence of the powers invariably followed in one form or
another. A new series of massacres in the Lebanon in
1860 caused France to land a force in Syria Walachia
and Moldavia formed themselves into a single state under
the name of Roumania, to which the house of Hohenzollern
soon afterwards gave a sovereign Bosnia and Montenegro
took up arms. Servia got rid of its Turkish garrisons.
Crete fought long for its independence, and seemed for a
moment likely to be united to Greece under the auspices of
the powers, but it was ultimately abandoned to its Turkish
masters. The overthrow of France in the war of 1870 and
the consequent isolation of England led Russia to declare
the provision of the treaty of Pans which excluded its ships
of war and its arsenals from the Black Sea to be no longer
in force. To save appearances, the British Government
demanded that the matter should be referred to a European
conference, where Russia's will was duly ratified.
A few years later the horizon of eastern Europe visibly
darkened with the coming storm. Russian influences
were no doubt at work , but the development of national
feeling which had so powerfully affected every other part
of Europe during the 19th century could not remain
without effect among the Christian races of the Balkan
peninsula. In 1875 Bosnia and Herzegovina revolted
In the meantime the government of 'Abd-ul-'Aziz (1861
1876) had become worse and worse. The state was bank
rupt. Ignatieff, the Russian ambas.'ador, gained complete
ascendency in the pa'ace. and frustrated every attempt on
652
TURKEY
[histobt.
the part of the better Turkish statesmen to check the
torrent of misrule. His creature, Mahmiid Pasha, main-
tained his place, in spite of universal contempt, until a
conspiracy was formed at Constantinople, which cost the
sultan his throne (30th May 1876) and a few days later
his life. His imbecile successor, MurAd V, gave place
after a reign of three months to 'Abd-ul-Hamld II. The
Bosnia.i insurrection had already extended to Bulgaria,
and the slaughter of the Turkish inhabitants in certain
villages had been avenged by massacres of the most fearful
character. Servia and Montenegro took up arms. The
resources of European diplomacy were exhausted in fruit-
less attempts to gain from the Porte some real securities
Warwith for better government, and in April 1877 Russia declared
fo^*- war. The neutrality of Austria had been secured by
a secret agreement permitting thaf country to occupy
Bosnia and Herzegovina, ii Russia should extend its influ-
ence beyond the Balkans. The Bulgarian massacres had
excited such horror and indignation in England that Lord
Beaconsfield was forced to remain neutral. The ministry
contented itself with stating that England would not per-
mit Egypt to be the scene of hostilities, nor acquiesce in
iny prolonged occupation of -Constantinople by Russian
troops. Turkey was thus left without an ally. The Russians
entered Bulgaria in June; and, while Rustchuk was besieged,
their advanced guard under Gourko hurried across the
Balkans. Meanwhile Osman Pasha, coming from Widdin,
occupied and fortified Plevna on the Russian line of march.
Against his redoubts the Russians, ill commanded, threw
themselves in vain, and Gourko was compelled to fall back'
on the Shipka Pass. But in December the capture of
Plevna, in which Roumanian troops cooperated, set free
the invading army, and the march on Constantinople
was resumed. The Balkans were passed in mid-winter ;
Adrianople was occupied ; and the Turkish armies were
captured or annihilated. The Russians now pressed forward
to the very suburbs of Constantinople, and on 3d March
1878 peace was concluded at San Stefano. In Asia the
Russians had captured Kars and were besieging Erzeroum.
The treaty of San Stefano ceded to Russia the portion of
Bessarabia taken from "it in 1856, together with the
Dobrudja, and also Kars, Batoum, and the adjoining
territory in Asia. It recognized the independence of
Servia, Montenegro, and Roumania, and largely extended
the territory of the first two. Bulgaria was constituted
an autonomous state, though tributary to the Porte, and
was defined so as to extend to the jEgean Sea and to
include the greater part of the country between the Balkans
and the coast. Crete, Tbessaly, and Epirus were to receive
the necessary reforms at the hands of a European com-
mission. To this treaty Great Britain refused to give its
assent, and vigorous preparations were made for war. The
fleet was at the Dardanelles, and Indian troops were
brouglit to Malta. Russia could no longer count on the
neutrality of Austria. Under these circumstances the
court of St Petersburg consented to submit the treaty to
a European congress, which, after a secret agreement had
been made between Russia and England on the principal
points of difference, assembled at Berlin. The treaty of
San Stefano received various modifications, the principal
being a reduction of the territory included in Bulgaria
and the division of that state into two parts. Bulgaria
north of the Balkans was constituted an autonomous prin-
cipality ; Bulgaria south of the Balkans was made into a
province, with the title of Eastern Roumelia, subject to
the authority of the sultan, but with a Christian governor
and an autonomous administration. Austria received
Bosnia and Herzegovina. The territory ceded to Servia
and Montenegro by the treaty of San Stefano, as well as
that ceded to Russia in Asia, was somewhat diminished.
Treaties
of San
Stefano
and
Berlin.
The Porte was advised to make some cession of territory
to Greece, and the line of frontier subsequently recom-
mended gave to Greece Janina as well as Thessaly. The
usual promises of organic reform were made by Turkey.
By a separate convention England undertook the defence
of Asiatic Turkey and received Cyprus. The organization
of Eastern Roumelia was duly taken in hand by a Euro-
pean commission and brought to a favourable corclusion ;
but it was not until a naval demonstration had been made
by England that the final cession of Dulcigno to the Monte-
negrins was effected, and that Thessaly, without Epirus, was v_
given up to Greece. Alexander of Battenberg became prince Bol-
of Bulgaraa. By a popular movement in 1885 Bulgaria S*"*"?
and Eastern Roumelia were united into a single state. I""'""'
This revolution occasioned the utmost displeasure at St
Petersburg; and under Russian influence Prince Alexander,
was kidnapped and forced to abdicate. The Porte offered
no armed resistance to the union. (c. a. f.)
Literalure.— The best work on Ottomao history la VoD Hammer's GescKuJiU
des Osmantscken /2eicA«(3uda-Pesth, 1634-3o), which covers the period between
1300 and 1774 The author availed himself of the writings of the Turkish
annalists as well as of those of his European predecessors ; and aU latef
Western historian." of the empire have borrowed directly or indirectly from hi9
volumes This valuable work has been translated into French by Belter^
HistotredelEmptn Ottoman (Pans, 1636-11). The best English work isCrtasy't
History 0/ the utlomiin Turks (London, 1854-56) , it is compiled for the most
part from Von Hammer- Pnnce Cantemir of Moldavia's HUlory o/the Grmffth
and Decay of the OtJinuxn Empire (London, 1734) contains many interesting
particulars, but is not always trustworthy. The best Turkish authontiea tor
the period 1300-1730 are— Sad-ud-DIn, TdJ--ul-Tevdrikh (1300-1520); Pechevi,
Tdnkh, I.e., " Uistory (15201631), Na'i'ma, TuriU(1591-lii50); Rashid, Tarikh
(1661-1722) : and Chelebi-zada, Tdrikh (1722-28). For the later period, see
Zinkeisen, Geschichte ties OsmaniscAe-.t fU\ches, 7 vols. (DamburR and Got'nat
1840-63); Finlay, Cruet under othoman Domination (Edinburgh, IS5CJ; KaniU.
Donau- Btilfiarten (Leipsic, 1875-79); Prokesch-Osten, Geschichte des Ab/alU
tier Griechen (Stnttgarl, 1867); Finlay, Greek Reiolvtion. (Edinburgh, I86I);
Bourchier's Codnnpton ; H. von Moltke. Rnssisch-Turkiscfu Fthlnig (182S-29i
(2d ed,, Berlin. 1877) ; H von Moltke, Brieje uberZuslande in itr Turkei (1835-39)
(3(1 ed , Berlin, 1877). Prokesch-Osten, Mehmed AH (\'ipnna, 1877); Rosen, GC'
schichte dcT Turkei (lS26-56)(2 vols.. Leipsic, 1866-67); Kinglake, Invasion of t}i4
Crimea (6 vols,, new ed,, Edinburgh, 1875-60), Eicbmann, Heform^n des Osmani-
s,;/ifn flciches (Berlin. 185S) ; V. Baker. H'nr in Bulgaria (2 vols., London, 1S79J;
W. Muller, Rv.^isch.Tiiri-ifcher Krien (Stuttgart, 1878). For the diplomatic his
tory, ^i Aus Mettcrnich's Papiereii (Vienna, 1880-84); Welliagton, /)e5f<i(cA«s(nev
ser,, London, 1867-71) ; Gentz. Depeehes Intdilcs (3 vols,, Paris, 1876-77) ; Sir B.
Bulwer, i'almcrston (2 vols., London, 1871); Guizot, Mrmoircs (Paris, 1S5S.67);
Sir F. Hcrtslet, British and Foreign State Papers (London, 1819, and still in
progress), and Map of Europe by Treaty (1875); Parliamentary Bistoryi And
Papers Presented to ParliamenL
Sultans of the House op 'OsmAn.
The dates are those of the sultan's accession, according
Moslem and Christian eras. a.h.
1. 'Osman I. son of Er-Toghrul 700
2. Orkhan . non of 'Osman 1 726
3. Murad I son of Orkhan 761
4. Biyezid I son of Murad 1 791
Interregnum 804
5. Muhammed I-. son of Bdyezid I ...816
6. Murad U son of Muhammed 1 824
7. Muhammed II son of Murad II 855
8. Bdyezid II son of Muhammed IL ....886
9. Sehm I son of Bdyezid II 918
lO.'Suleyman I son of Selim I 926
11. Selim II son of Suleyman 1 974
12. Murad III son of Selim II 982
13. Muliammed III son of Murad III 1003
14. Ahmed I son of Muliammed III 10J2
15. Mustafa I son of Muhammed III 1026
16. 'Osnidn II son of Ahmed 1 1027
Mustafa I (restored) ...1031
17. Murad IV son of Ahmed I 1032
IS. Ibrahim son of Ahracd 1 1049
19. Muhammed IV son of Ibr.-lhim 1058
20 Suleyman II son of Ibrahim 1099
21. Ahmed II son of Ibrahim 1102
22. Mustafa II son of Muhammed IV 1106
23. Ahmed III sou of Muliammed IV 1115
24. Mahmiid I son of Mustafa II ....1143
2.i, 'Osm.-ln III son of Mustafa II 1168
Mustafa III smi of Ahnied III 1171
'Ahd-ul-Hamid 1 son of Ahmed III 1187
.Selim III son of JIuslafa III 1203
Mustafa IV son of 'Abd-ul-HamiM I. ...1222
Mahmiid II. ,... son of 'Abd-ul-IIamid I ..1223
'Abd-ul-Mejid son of Mahmiid II 1255
'Abil-ul-'Azij son of Mahmiid II 1277
Muidd V son of 'Abd-ul-Mejid 1293
'Abd-ul-Hamid II. ..son of 'Abd-ul-Mejid 1293
totba
A.T).
1301
1326
1359
1389
1402
1413
1421
1451
1481
1512
1520
1563
1574
1595
1603
i6ir
1618
1622
1623
164C
1648
1687
1691
1695
1703
1/59
1754
1757
1773
1789
1807
1808
1839
1861
187«
187<
VOL xxni.
Tu:
j]EY
FI^4TSV1
OIOORAPUY.]
TURKEY
653
BoDnd
P.vRT II. — Geography and Statistics.
Plitc VL Turkey, or the Ottoraan empire {Osnuinli Vilaicti\ embraces
extensive territories in south-eastern Europe, western Asia, and
northern Africa, grouped mainly round the eastern waters of the
Mediterranean, and alon^ both sides of the Red Se.i, the west coast
of the Persian Gulf, ana the southern and western shores of tlio
Black Sea, These territories form an aggregate of provinces and
states, some under the direct control of the sultau, some enjoying
a large share of political autonomy, some practically independ-
ent, either administered by foreign powers or ruled by hereditary
vassals or tributary princes. The present (18S7) extent of the
Ottoman empire is about 1,692,150 square miles, and it3 popula-
tion 42,316,000.
EuROPKAN Turkey.
Since the Russo-Turkish War of 1878 (see above), the extremely
irregular frontiers of European Turkey are conterminous with Greece
in the south, and in the north with Montenegro, Austria, Servia, and
Roumania, being separated from the last country partly by the
Danube, partly by a conventional line drawn from Siiistria on that
river to Mangalia on the Black Sea. By the Berlin congress
Roumania and Servia, hitherto vassal states, were made absolutely
independoBt kingdoms, Roumania at the same time receiving
the district of Doorudja between the lower Danube and the Black
Sea, and Servia those of Nish and Leskovatz about the upper
Mora%-a river. Montenegro was also recognized as an independ-
ent principality, with an increase of territory, which gave it a sea
frontier limited southwards by the river Boyana, and including
the Albanian porta of Dulcigno and Antivari on the Adriatic. The
Greco-Turkish frontier was also shifted north, Greece obtaining
most of Thessaly and a strip of Epirus (south Albania], so that
iince 1881 the border line runs from near Mount Olympus on the
Gulf of Saloniki (40° N. lat) west to the Pindus ran^e, then south-
west to the Gulf of Arta ou the Ionian Sea. A still raoro serious
step was taken towards disintegration by the withdrawal of Bulgaria
and Eastern Roumelia from the immediate jurisdiction of the Sub-
lime Porte. The former was constituted a tributary principality, with
representative institutions, and Eastern Roumelia was erected into
an autonomous province, both under the guarantee of the European
powers. But in 1885 the latter province declared for union with
nulgaria,and since then these two territories have practically formed
one state administered from Sophia, Europe assenting and Turkey
consenting (imperial 6rman of 6th April 1886) on the retrocession
to Turkey of the Moslem districts of Kirjali and the Rhodope. In
the year 1878 Austria occupied and assumed the civil administration
of the north-western provinces of Bosnia and Herzegovina, besides
taking military possession of the contiguous strategical district of
Arta and Novi-Bazar. The direct possessions of the sultan have thus been
popola- r«dnced in Europe to a strip of territory stretching continuously
across the Balkan Peninsula from the Bosphorus to the Adriatic
(29° 10' to 19° 20' E. long.), and lying in the castmarnly between
iV and 42° and in the west between 39° and 43° N. lat. It corre-
Bponds roughly to ancient Thrace, Macedonia with Chalcidice, Epirus,
and a large part of Illyria, constituting the present administrative
divisions of Stambul (Constantinople, including a small strip of tho
opposite Asiatic coast), Edirneh (Adrianople), Saloniki with Kosovo
(Macedonia), Janina (parts of Epirus and Thessaly), Shkodra (Scutari
or upper Albania). 'To these must be added the Turkish islands in
the jEgean usually reckoned to Europe, that is,Thasos, Samothrace,
Imbros, and, in the extreme south, Crete or Caudia, with estimated
. (1887) areas and populations as under : —
tioQ.
Proviiiceii.
CODStantinopIe. ,. .
Adriannplo
Saloniki an'l Kosovo
Janina
Scutari
Candia and other islands . .
Immediate possessions.
Bulgaria, tributary principality
East Roumelia. autonomous pro\ince
Bosnia. Herzegovina, and Novi-Bazar, occupied
by Austria
Total European Turkey since 1S78 . .
Dobrodja. ceded to Roumania
Njsh and Leskovatz. ceded to Servia
2>ulcigno, &c., ceded to Montenegro .
Parts of Thessaly and Epirus, ceded to Greece
Total Eiiropean Turkey before 1873. .
Area in
Square Miles.
24.300
14,000
23.570
4,200
4,250
2,000
2,000
Population.
1,200.000
560.000
1 ,900,000
1.440,000
390,000
230.000
5,720,000
2,008,000
975,000
150.000
St)7.000
116,000
100,000 (?)
10,940,000
Physical For detailed accounts of the physical features, climate, fauna, and
geo- flora of these regions, the reader is referred to the articles Albania,
gmphy. Bosnia, Bulgaru, Constantinople, Epirus, Herzegovina,
Macedonia, and Thrace. Here it will suffice to remark in a
general way that the territory still directly administered ftom
Stambul comprises one of the most favoured regions of tho tcmperato
zone. The extensive igneous and metamorphic system of the Great
Balkans and Rhodope (Despoto-Dagh), culminating in the Rilo
Dagh (9000 feet), interspersed in the Pindus range farther west by
Permian formations of unknow-n age, and succeeded in the extreme
east (both sides of the Bosphorus) by Lower Devonian sandstones
and some more recent volcanic rocks, is pierced .by the four rich
alluvial valleys of the Maritza, Kara-su or " Blackwatcr," Strum*
(Strj-mon), and Vardar. These rivers, (lowing in nearly parallel
south-easterly courses to tho iEgean, collect most of the drainage
of Roumelia, as Thrace and Macedonia are commonly called by the
Turks. The whole region thus enjoys a somewhat southerly aspect,
sheltered from the north by the lofty crests of the Rilo llagh and
northern Pindus, and in every way admir.-bly suited for tlie culti-
vation of most cereals, as wcU as of cotton, tobacco, madder, the
mulberry, the vine, and fruits. Here maize yields such a bountiful
harvest that, although originally introduced from America, it has
long been regarded as indigenous, and for the Italians is simply the
Turkish corn ("gran turco") in a preeminent sense. The inhabit-'
auts also, Greeks intermingled with Turks in the cast, with Bui-
garians in the west, are intelligent and industrious, noted for their
skill in the manufactureof carjiets and other woven goods, of saddlery,
arms, and jewellery.
Asiatic Turkey.
The mainstay of the Ottoman dynasty is the Asiatic portion of the Bonnu
empire, where the Mohammedan religion is absolutely predominant, ariea.
ana where the naturally vigorous and robust Turki race forms in
Asia Minor a compact mass of many millions, far outnumbering
any other single ethnical element and probably equalling all taken
collectively. Here also, with the unimportant exception of the
islands of Samos and Cyprus and the somewhat privileged district
of Lebanon, all the Turkish possessions constitute vilayets directly
controlled by the Porte. Tbey comprise the geographically distinct
regions of the Anatolian plateau (Asia Minor), the Armenian and
Kurdish highlands, 'ho Mesopotamian lowlands, the hilly and
partly mountainous territory of Syria and Palestine, and the coast-
lands of west and north-east Arabia. The changes caused by the
Russo-Turkish War of 1878 were the cession to Persia of the little
district of Kotur on the eastern frontier and to Russia of the
districts of Kars and Batoum on the north-east frontier, while to
Englaud were conceded the military occupation and administration
of Cyprus. Asiatic Turkey is conterminous on the east with Russia
and Persia ; in the south-west it encloses on the west, north, and
north-east the independent part of Arabia. Towards Egypt the
frontier is a conventional line drawn from Akabah at the head of
the Gulf of Akabah north-westwards to the little port of El Arish
on the Mediterranean. Elsewhere Asiatic Turkey enjoys the ad-
vantage of a sea frontage, being washed in the north-west and west
by the Euxine, j^igean, and Mediterranean, in the south-west by
the Red Sea, aud in the southeast by the Persian Gulf
The above enumerated five natural divisions of Asiatic Turkey
are divided for administrative purposes into about twenty vilayets,
which, however, have been and still are subject to considerable
fluctuations. The subjoined grouping, with areas nnd populations, Areaaod
is based mainly on data lately communicated cunlidcntiully to the popula-
British Government by Mr Rcdhouse. His cstinialcs of population tion.
have been strikingly confirmed by the official returns that nave for
the first time just been made for certain provinces in Asia Minor and
the Armenian higlilands. Thus the census of the Trcbizond vila-
yet, completed in 1886, gave a total of 1,010,000, which differs
only by 7000 from Mr Rcdhousc's estimate for 1878 (1,017,000).
So also the just completed (1887) census for the Erzeroum vilayet
gives 583,000, or 998,000 including the territory ceded to Russia in
1873, which is 45,000 higher than Mr Rcdhousc's estimate.
Natural
Divisions.
Provinces.
Area in
Square Miles.
Population.
Asia Minor
Armenia ant*
Kurdibtan
Mesopotamia
Syria and
Valestine
Arabia
TJroiwsamthBigaandlsmid
Aidin (SinjTtia)
32.000
23.000
21.000
27,000
S9.000
16.000
21-..000
12.000
40.000
3,<!.000
lOO.OOO •
31.000
4li,000
S5.000
200,000 (^
1,700
210
3.070
891,580
1. 900.000
1.010.000
1.2C0.000
sco.ooo
1,280,000
470.000
1.770.0<>0 :
I.OlO.OOO 1
1 5S:t.0u0 '
U.ooo.ooo 1
560.000 1
4.7iO.O00 1
1.0S5.CO0 1
1,«0.000
i,5i;o,ooo '
450,000 "1
( 390,000 .,
J 720.000 1
1 830.0(10 1
525.000 ,
41,l.vO 1
235,0^ 1
24,339.000 1
Angora
Konieh .
Adana
Sivas with Jaoik.
.Trebizond
Erzeroum and Van
Diarbekr with Aziz
1 Baclulad
\ Basra with El-IIa.<;a
f Aleppo
J Dainascn.H \
1 Lebanou \
(.Jerusalem )
j?"-"" \ .. .
Archipelago
Cyprus
Total Asiatic Turkey ...
654
TURKEY
[GEOGEAPHt,
t'hysical Detailed descriptions of Asiatic Turkey will be found under the
features, separate articles Arabia, Armenia, Asia Minor, Kurdistan,
Mesopotamia. Palestine, and Syria. Of these natural divisions
Asia Minor or Anatolia is by far the most important for extent,
population, and natural resources. It constitutes an elevated and
fertile plateau enclosed by irregular mountain ranges, which in the
Taurus and Antitaurus on the south and east rise to from 7000
Id 10,000 feet, culminating in the volcanic Erjish-Dagh, or Argieus,
nearly 12,000 feet high. The plateau, which has a mean altitude
of some 3000 feet, is depressed in the centre, where the Tu2'gol
(Tatta Palus) and several other lacustrine basins have at present no
outflow, but wiiich appear to have formerly drained through the
Sakaria (Sanganus) northwards to the Euxine. In the same di-
rection, and in curiously parallel curves, flow the more easterly
Kizil-Irmak (Halys) and Yeshil-Irmak (Iris), which carry off most
of the surface waters of the plateau. The western rivers — Granicus,
Xanthus (Scainander), Hermus, Simois, Meander — although re-
nowned in sonc; and history, are comparatively insignificant coast-
etreams, rushiu^ from the escarpment of the plateau down to their
^ord-hke estuaries in the jEgean None of the rivers are navigable
to any distance from their mouths, and in the absence of good
means of communication the very rich resources of the plateau in
minerals and agricultural produce have hitherto been little deve*
lopod Owing to the ditferent elevations and varied aspects of the
land towards the Euxine, ^gean, and Mediterranean, the climate
is extremely diversified, presenting all the transitions from intense
eummer heat along most of the seaboard to severe winters on the
lofty tablelands of the interior, which are exposed to biting winds
from the Russian steppes. Anatolia has an endless variety of
natural products, from the hardy boxwood of Laziatan (Trebizond
vilayet) to tho subtropical figs and grapes of the western coast-
lands. On the plateau thrives the famous breed of Angora goats,
whose soft, silky fleece (mohair) forms a staple export.
Of far less economic importance are the Armenian uplands, form-
ing a rugged plateau of limited extent, above which rise many
lofty peaks, culminating in the tower-crested Ararat (16,916 feet),
the converging point of three empires. The long and terribly severe
winters, intolerably hot short summers, and generally poor soil of
Armenia present a marked contrast to the far more temperate
climate, rich upland valleys, and densely wooded slopes of the more
southern Kurdistan highlands. But these advantages are counter-
balauced by the generally inaccessible nature of the country, the
want of good highways, and especially the lawless character of its
inhabitants, who have undergone little social change since tho days
of their wild Karduchi forefathers. In the heart of this savage
region lies the magnificent basin of Lake Van, which, like Tuz-gol
and the nlore easterly Urmiya, baa no present outflow, but formerly,
00 doubt, discharged to the Tigris valley.
In the Van district lie the sources of most of the head streams
of the Tigris (y-u.) and Euphraies (g.v.\ which have created the
vast and fertile alluvial plains of Mesopotamia. Thie latter region,
the seat of the ancient Accadian and Assyrian and the more recent
Moslem cultures, forms a continuous plain from the escarpments of
the Kurdistan highlands to the Persian Gulf, broken only in the
north by the Sinjar Hills, and capable of yielding magnificent
crops wherever water is available. But under Osmanli rule the
eplendid system of irrigation works, dating from tho dawn of his-
tory, has fallen into decay: the lower Euphrates now overflows
its banks and converts much of the region above and below
Kurnah, at the confluence of the two great arteries, into malarious
marshlands Hence the populoiis cities and innumerable villages
formerly dotted over the Babylonian plains have been succeeded
by the jscattered hamlets of the Monteflk and other amphibious
Arab tribes.
This lowland region is separated by thp more elevated Syrian
desert or steppe from the much smaller and less productive pro-
vinces of Syria and Palestine. Here the main physical features
are at once simple and yet striking. The narrow, hUly region dis-
posed north and south between tne Mediterranean and the desert,
and stretching for over 400 miles between Anatolia and the Sinai
Peninsula, culminates towards the centre in the parallel Libanus
and Antilibanus (10,000 to 11,000 feet), enclosing between them
the fertile depression of the Beka' (Ccele-Syria). The stupt-ndous
ruins of Baalbek, standing at the highest point of this depression
in 30'* N. lat, mark the parting line between the northern and
southern watersheds of the region. Northwards flows the El-'Asi
(Oronles), southwards the Gtani (Leontes), both through the
Bekd' in moderately sloping beds to the Mediterranean, For
further particulars, see tho articles Ledanon, Jordan, Palestine.
In the Lebanon the Christian Maronite communities enjoy a mea-
sure of self-government under the guarantee of France, while their
pagan neighbours and hereditary foes, the Drases, are gradually
withdrawing to the hilly Hauran district beyond Jordan.
Turkey's Arabian possessions comprise, besides El-Hasa on the
Persian Gulf, the low-lying, hot, and insalubrious Tehama and the
south-western highlands (vilayets of Hejaz and Yemen) stretching
continuously along the east side of the Red Sea, and includiog the
two holy cities of Mecca and Medina. These are held by militr.ry
occupation, probably at a loss to the imperiad exchequer, and cer»
Uinly against the wishes of the inhabitants. But these drawbacks
are supposed to be more than compensated by the politica? presti^o
derived from the possession of the Holy Land of Islaip.
African Territories.
Since the abandonment of eastern or Egyptian Soudan u» 1884, Area and
consequent on the revolt of the Mahdi, and the occupation ofpopula.
Tunis by the French in 1881, Turkey in Africa has been reduced Uou.
to the two territories of Egypt and Tripolitana with Barca and
Fezzan, jointly occup3ring tne north-east comer of the continent.
Of these Tripolitana aloue is directly administered, constituting
the pashalik or vilayet of Tripoli. Egypt, whose sonthem frontier
was temporarily fi^ed in January 1887 at the station of Akasho
above Wady Haifa, near the second cataract in Lower Nubia (22*
N. lat.), has formed a practically independent principality under
the dynasty of Mehemet Ali since 1841, subject only to an annua)
tribute of £695,000 to the Porte. The areas and populations of
Turkey in Africa were estimated as follows in 1887; —
Tripoli, with Barea and Pezzan, a vilayet
Area iu
Bq. Mile&
Population.
4S6.000
S;4.CKX)
l.OOO.OOO
6.800.000
Total Turkey iQ Africa
802.000
7,800.000
The Empire:
Turkey is essentially a theocratic absolute monarchy, being sub- AdmlntS'
ject in principle to the direct personal control of the sultan, who tntioD.
is himself at once (t temporal autocrat and the recognized caliph,
that IS, " successor " of the Prophet, and consequently the spiritual
head of the Moslem world (see Mohammedanism). But, although
the attempt made in 1876 to introduce representative institutions
proved abortive, this theoretical absolutism is nevertheless tem-
pered not only by traditional usage, local privilege, the juridical
and spiritual precepts of the Koran and its 'ulernd interpreters, and
the privy council, but also by the growing force of public opinion
and the direct or indirect pressure of the European powers. The
"ulemA* form a powerful corporation, whose head, the sheikku 'U
Islam, ranks as a state functionary scarcely second to the grand
vizier, or prime minister. O'^ing to their intensely conservative
and fanatical spirit, the 'ulemd have always been determined oppo-
nents of progress, and are at present one of the greatest obstacles to
reform in a political system where the spiritual and temporal
functions are inextricably interwoven. Besides these erponndera
of Koranic doctrine^ the sovereign is to some extent bound also by
the Mullcka, a legal code based on the traditional sayings o(
Mohammed and the recorded decis:ons of his successors, having
the force of precedents.
The grand vizier {scdr-azam\ who is nommated by the sultan,
presides ex-officio over the privy council {Tnejliss-i-khass), which,
besides the sheikhu '1-Islam, comprises the ministers of home and
foreign afTairs, war, finance, marine, trade, public works, justice,
public instruction, and worship, with the president of the council
of state and the grand master of artillery. For administrativo
purposes the immediate possessions of the sultan are divided into
vilayets (provinces), which are again subdivided into sanjaks ot
mutessariks (arrondisAoments), these into kazas (cantons), and tho
kazas into nahies (parishes or communes). A vali or governor-
general, nominated by the sultan, stands at the head of the vilayeti '
and on hira are directly dependent the pashas, eirendis, beys, and
other administrators of the minor divisions. All these officiali
unite in their own persons the judicial and executive functions,
and all alike are as a rule thoroughly corrupt, venal in the dispen*
sation of justice, oppressors of the subject, embezzlers of the publio
revenues, altogether absorbed in amassing wealth during their
mostly brief and precarious tenure of office.^ Foreigners settled in
the country are specially protected from exactions by the so-calle4
"capitulations," in virtue of which they are exempt from the juris-
diction of the local courts and amenable for trial to tribunals pre*
J Sec SuyNiTM, vol. ixii p. 660.
' Major-Oeoeral F. T. Haig. who travelled through the heart cf TemeQ la
the winter of 1386-87. thoa sptaks of tlie adrainistratioci in that almost exclu.
sively Moslem province; "Tfci fiscal Mystein of the Turka, if it were really
earned into effect, would be by no rni-ans l>ad ; but like every oUif:r depart-
inent of the government it is ruined by the utter comiplion thai prevails in
every branch of the fulministratuMi from top to bottom. No more t:l<x(ueDt
exiioundera of the evila and hopelessne-sa of their whole system are Ut be found
than the Turks •hemsclves. a^ I found from conversation with two or three of
tl.etr own ufllcials" (Proc. K. Geog .Sor., Aufenist 1887. p. 487). Mr 0. P Dcvcy
also, consul at Krzeroum, reports that in a part of that province the 3hetip-t«j
for 1K85 waa collertod throe time--* over : " On the fl-^t occ&sion the real nombet
had l)eeo utidereatimated, and the collector therefore caine again, and. tudiog
that BQch was the cast, made the villagers pay the whole aum of H, 000 piastres
(9000 had been levied on the previona occaaionX inetiAd of the airTcrccct, oa
the pTOiiBd tliat thev bad cheated the Government tn not dec'ariuK thc.r wliol«
oto<;lt. A third time a collector visited the caza. and. when the villagers could
pn>dcce no receipt that the tAX had been paid (for none hod boon gtven), a tUld
tiiue-L^ fuUflom was taken "(Oiu, Hep., July 1887, p. S).
crocr.ApnY.]
TURKEY
655
Coa-
tare.
tided over by their rwpective consuls. Ca^cs betweea foreimiers
of different nationalities are heard in the court of the dcfcnaant,
and between foreigners and Turkish subjects in the local courts, at
whiLh a consular dragoman attends to !>ee that the trial iscouductcd
iccordiug to law.
The trade rc:urns for the last few years show that the country is
slowly recovering from the disa.strous consequences of the Russo-
Turkish W.nr. For the four years 1SS2-86 tho exports from and
ini[K>rts to Turkey were valued as ilndcr : —
ISS3-3
E\i>i>rts.'
*10.<>00.000
9.5M,000
Imjiorts.
£17.000,000
17.350.000
1SS4 5
1SS5-6
Exports.l
£11.326.000
10,690.000
Imports.
£18.563.000
17,702,000
The share of the chief foreign states in these exchanges is showu
ID the subjoined table' for the years 1S84-S5 and 18S5-86 : —
Imports from
Exports to
Qre«t BritaiD
Frmaee ,
Au$Ui4 _
Kussia.
Italy
16845.
1SS5*
ISS4-5.
1SS5-6.
£S.3(».000
S.225.000
3.600.000
1.2O4.000
563.000
395.000
275.000
553.l«0
22S.0OO
254.000
£7.755.000
2.050.000
3,406.000
1,556.000
530.000
318,000
166.000
482,000
565.000
261.000
£3.923.000
4.0S3.000
1,113.000
366.000
339.000
iOO.OOO
63,000
7,990
8S.000
2,525
£1.031.000
3.296,000
1,001,000
341.000
S-27.000
437.000
107.000
7.450
96.000
9,4S6
United StAtea
Oelgiuui
The chief staples of the export trade arc raisins (£1,370,000 in
18S1-85), wheat (£900,000), cotton (£700,000), opium (£500,000),
olive oil (£450,000). valonia (£450,000), barley (£332,000), 6gs
(£200,0001, sesame (£196.000), maize (£194,000), pulse (£185,000),
nuts (£184,000), mohair (£145,000), wool (£140,000), dates
(£115,000); and of the import trade cotton and cotton stuffs
!(£4,350,000, iu 1883-84), cereals and flour (£1,350,000), sugar
,(£1,150,000), draperies, hosiery, ic. (£735,000), woollen stuffs
(£650,000), colfec (£535,000), metals (£516,000), ironmongery
(£475,000), dves (£450,000), silk and silk stuffs (£400,000),
ptroleum (£375,000), hides and skins (£255,000), live stock
(£236,000), chemicals (£167,000), coal (£135,000).
In the nest table are given the principal seaports of the empire
with their imports, exports, and shipping for 18S6 : —
Alexandria
CoDStaDtioopIe
Sm>Tn8
Saloniki
Iskaoderfwn and Trj|»oIi
SamsuD. with OrUii anil Uoieh
Trebizonil and Kirasun
Bcyrut. with Akka and Baib
Kavata .. .\
Crete (six ports) a
Dedeajjatch
Tripoli (Africa)
Durj;33
Gsllipoli aod Rodosto
Suez
Benghazi
Jaffa
JeJdah
£11.710,000 £9.417.000
Exports. Imports. ^,^/Jl ToDnage.
4.331.000
1.362.000
1,022.000
806.000
715,000
602.000
457.000
S35.000
298.000
231.000
222 WW
212.000
172.000
121.000
I20.0CO
119.000
2.706.000
1.660.000
1,670.000
7S7.00O
1.9OI.000
995.000
201.000
633,000
169.004
310.000
281.000
185.000
709.000
111.000
240.000
?
1249
9072
1645
5440
626
473
6063
4009
778
3760
501
1371
712
261
lOOU
1040
1,020.000
s.ias.ooo
1,363.000
574.(JtX)
351.000
455.000
47S.OOO
618.U00
145.000
491,000
272.000
ILi.OOO
1,109.000
54.000
459.000
317.000
Exclusive of coasting craft, the mercantile fleet of Turkey in 1885
consisted of 14 steamers of 11,000 tons aud 400 sailiug vessels of
65,000 tons.
All branches of the foreign trade, together with most of the local
trafllc and the banking business, are almost exclusively in the hands
of Greeks, Armenians, Jews, and foreigners. The Turks and other
Mohammedans are engaged nearly altogether in agricultural and
pastoral pursuits. But the land, especially in Anatolia, is gradu-
ally passing from its Moslem owners iuto the jwssession of Christian
mortgagees. Scarcely any accurate agricultural returns are avail-
able, except for one or two districts. In the Erzerouro vilayet in
1886' the live-stock stiSod as under,— sheep l,9c5.000, goats 645,000,
oxen 470,000, buffaloes 48,000, horses 61.000, asses 42,000, mules
6000; beehives numbered 80,000. The chief agricultural produce
for the same year was— wheat 16.690,000 busheh, barley 13,297,000
bushels, beans 46,250 cwts., melons 17,000 cwts., mulberries 10.000
cwts., other fruits 40,000 cwts. In the same year of the 12.000 square
ID'les constituting the Trebizond vilayet 2100 were under cultiva-
tion, 1860 uncultivated, 2520 woodland, and 5520 highland pastur-
ags, the annual yield being about 2,300,000 cwts. of cereals, 1,000,000
cwts. of nuu, fruits, vegetables, &c, and 500,000 cwts. of fodder;
* Exclusive of tobacco, which for fiscal reasoDS is not included in the general
trade returns, but the export of which amounted to £11,500,000 in value for
1884-5. sr.d nearly £11.000.000 for 1885-6.
> Consul-General Fawcelt a Snort for July 1887, p. SL
' Com. £q-. for July 1837.
whilst of live-stock there were 300,UOO sheep and goats, 150,000
horses, 25,000 mules and asses, 60.000 oxen.*
Previous to ISSO Turkey was commonly regarded as practically Fiaaaae,
bankrupt. But since then a considerable improvement has been
effected. Trustworthy data are still wanting; but a careful estimate
gave the gross revenue and cxpendituie of 1SS4 at £T16,313,000
and £T16,223,lbo respectively, the expenditure including over
£T4,000,000 available for st.at'e creditors. The public debt stood
at £106,437,000 in 18S2. The sultan is reported to draw a sum of
from £1,000,000 to £2,000,000 annually from the public revenues
for the support of the seraglio or imperial household of over five
thousand [lersons.
Until 1SS6 the military servic^ compulsory on all Moslems over Arini.
18 years of age, was kept up by 45,000 annual recruits drawn by
ballot ; but iu November of that year universal conscription of the
whole able-bodied male population was decreed. B.v this measure
the army, hitherto reckoned at about 160,000 men, with a war
strength of from 450,000 to 500,000, will be probably raised to a
permanent footing of 1,000,000 effectives under the Oag and in the
reserves. These will continue to be grouped iu the three categories
of the nizam or regulars in active service, the redif or first re5er\-e,
and the mustahfiz or second reserve. There is to be a considerable
increase of cavalry, all conscripts being allow-cd.to join that branch
of the service who have the means of providing themselves with
mounts and cquipmenL For military purposes the empire is
divided into seven divisions, with headquarters at Constantinople,
Adriauople, Monastir, Erzingian, Baghdad, Damascus, and Sanaa,
all except Sanaa (for Yemen) hitherto fuiuishing an army corpr
for the nizam and two for the redif.
The navy at the beginning of 1887 comprised 15 large and Kavy
sevei-al smaller ironclads (monitors, gunboats, &c.), a number of
mostly old-fashioned steamers, and 14 torpedo boats, and was manned
by 30,000 sailors and 10,000 marines (nominal strength), raised by
conscription or voluntary enlistment and seiniig for 12 years in
the active and reserve classes.
Public instruction is much more widely diffused throughout the Edcc^
empire than is commonly supposed. This is due partly to the tion.
Christian communities, notably the Maronites and others in Syria,
tiie Anatolian and Roumelian Greeks, and the Armenians of the
eastern provinces and of Constantinople. Education is practically
limited amongst the Mohammedans to reading and writing and the
study of the Koran. But amongst the Christians, especially the
Armenians, the Greeks of Smyrna, and the Syrians of Beyrut, it
embraces a considerable range of subjects, such as (Classical Hellenic,
Armenian, and Syriac, as well as modem French, Italian, and
English, modern-history, geography, and medicine. Large sums are
freely contributed for the establishment and support of good schools,
and the cause of national education is seldom forgotten in the
legacies of patriotic Anatolian Greeks. Even the Turks are be.
stirring themselves in this respect, and great progress has been
made during the last twenty years in the Erzeroum viJayet.' In
1886 that province contained 1216 schools and 163 madrasas
(colleges), with a total attendance of 25,680, including 1504 girls.
Elsewhere few official statistics are available.
Besides administrative ai^d financial reforms, one of the roost Connni*
pressing needs is improved means of communication. In Trebizond iucatio&
the route from the coast at Unieh through Kiksar to Sivas has
recently been completed to the limits of the vilayet. But the works
on the more important road from Kirasun to Eara-hissal for the
silver and lead mines at Lijessy are still suspended, owing to di»
putes between the contiguous proviucU administrations. Ma"y
of the great historic highways are also much out of repair. At the
end of 1S85 only 1250 miles of railway were completed in the em-
pire, of which 903 were in Europe and 347 in Asia. The chief lines
a/e those connecting the capital with Adriauople (210 miles),
Adriauople with Saremby (152), Saloniki with Uskub (150\ Zenica
with Bred (118), Uskub with Mitrovitza (75), and Kulleli with
Degeagatch (70) in Europe, and, in Asia, Scutari with Ismid (40),
Smyrna with AlaShchr (130), and Smyrna with Denizli (170). By
imperial decree (August 1887) a contract was granted to an English
syndicate for the extension of the Ismid line and the construction
of a system of Asiatic railways to extend to Baghdad within the
space of ten years. I
The telegraph system is much moro developed, comprisiiig(1885).
14,620 miles, with 26,100 miles of wire and 470 sUtions. The
yearly average of letters and packa{,C3 of all sorts sent through the
710 post-ofBces scarcely exceeds 2,600,000. Most of tho foreign
postal service is conducted through the British, Austrian, German,
French, and Russian privileged post-ofiices.
For tho ethnography of the Turks, sec Turks. (A. H. K)
Part ITI. — LrrEKATTTRB.
In all literary matters the Ottoman Turks have shown themselret
a singularly uninventive people, the two great schools, the old and
the new, into which we may divide their literature, being closely
« ami. Btf., May 18ST.
* Cm. Sep., July 1887, f. 4.
656
TURKEY
[UTBRATTntE.
Old
schooL
aian
Utera-
tnxe.
modelled, the one after the classics of Perma. t^eo'her after those
of modem Europe, and more especially of France, ine oia or
Perei^™hMl flourished from the foundation of the empire down
toXut 18M and still continues to drag on a feeble ex^tence,
SouX t i3 <^" »«' of ''^l'*°° '^^ cultivated by none of the lead-
ng men of lette,^ These belong to the new or E«ropeao schoo
which sprang up some 6fty or sixty years ago. fna^tich in spite
Tf the biUe?tpposition of the partisans of the old Oriental system
hL succeeded, partly througfi its own inherent superiority and
SStly throul t^Te tZlents and courage of its supporters^ in e.pe -
fi^ff Its rival from the position of undisputed authority ..hich it
n occur] foHpwarls of five hundred year^ ,^°S'?'^P^Jf "'
WnoseTvrill be convenient to divide the o d schoo '"t" tl>«^
E^S which may be termed respectively the pre-classical, the
KS and the LtclassicaL OY these the first extends from
?Kriv days of tfie empire to the-accession of Suleyman I., 1301 _
1520 (700 926) ; the second from that event to the accession of
Mahm^Id I :i529-n30 (926-1143) ; and the third from that date
ty. the accession of "Abd-ul- Aziz, 1730-1861 (lU3-li77). .
of Otto ana tne ^ j^ ^ ^ elegance and conventional grace,
IX of thoSt and of expression, so characteristic of Pereian
c Ssica uSure, pervade tL works of the best Ottoman wite.^
anT hey are like^rise imbued, though u, a l^ss degree <nththat
mirit of mysticism which runs through so much of the poe^ of
ISS But the Ottomans did not stop here: in ''''F ;o"»°''=
0^3 they chose as subjects the favourite themes of their Persian
KrI such MlTvli aid Mejniin, Khusrev and Shirin, Yusuf and
Tu^e^SrM."^ on ; they ionstently allude to Persian heroes
rtose M oc^ur in' iJshdh.N<irri and other storehouses of
TKulln iWndwy lore; and they wrote their poems m Pers an
m^te^-Md ^^rsian forms. The mesnevf, the kasida, and the
eWet'^ of them, so far at least as the Ottomans are concerned
iS^e" the favourite verse-forms of the old poets. A mesnevi
taT^^m vHtten in rhyming couplets, and is usually narrative m
«,biMt The kasida and the gha^el are both monorhythmic ; the
£S « a rule cekbrates the praises of some gr^at man, while the
S^iS di^^ of the joys and woes of 1«"- Why Persian rather
^n^raLn or an; oth^er literature became tie mode o Ottoman
inters is explained by the early history of the race (see .Turks).
W two-SturiesbeWe the arrival of^he Tuf m A™» Mmor
flie Seliiiks, then a mere horde of savages, had overrun Pers^
where thTsettled and adopted the civilization of the people they
had"uMued Thus Persiin became the language of their court
Ti Government and when by and by they F^^re oTS the^
;^^e^dtir.'s5irp^^iarcX»^^
be^raUy the descendants of Seljuks or Seljukian subiecte, who-
had derived from Persia whatever thev possessed of ""^-f^""" "J
of Uterarv taste. An extraordinary love of precedent, tl" "su't
annarentW ^conscious want of original power, was sufficient
HS^rarw&'disXtTtzr^^.:!^
SB1^="of=vrar=^e^=^^
Sable ^de^ the resuft. being '^at ■ the numfcr of th ^
writere both in prose and verse is enormous. Of course on'/ ^^^ew
Tthrmost prominent, either through t^' l".*^^. J^n' "L^ng
"ork or through the influence they have had ^.ey>'l'"5 ^'/°^PJ^^
territSry under the role of that pnnce. Another "nyshc poet ot
S^^y time was 'Ashik Pasha, who left a >ong poem in rhyming
inm,lets which is called, inappropriately enough, his DM.n. Ihe
.«&'xpedition icross th^He^^pont by which Sule,^^^^^^
JS"- Orkhan. won Galipoli and thejewit'i a foothold m Europe
foT Ss -»ce was shared in and celebrated m verse by a Turkish
^bk^; c^eft^in «r-l Gti^ Faai. Stieykfe' of Eenniyan, a
issical
■riod.
contemporary of Muhammed I. and MuraTl II., wrote a lengthy and
stm eTtSa mesnevi on the ancient Persian romance of Khusrev
and ShWn i and about the sam« time Yaziji-ogh lu gave to the
world a ong versified history of the Prophet, the Mufu^mmedlya.
The writers mentioned above are the most important previous to
the (Jpture of ConsUntinople ; but there is little literature of real
merit prior te that event The most notable prose work of this
periodTs an o?d collection of stories, the ffi^^o^ of Che ffy^'^^t
Lid to have been compiled by a certain Sheykh-zada and d^^ieate*
to Murad II. A few.years after Constantiuonlo passed into th.
hands of the Ottemans, some ghazels, the wort of 'he contempo
rary Tatar prince, Mir 'Ali Sh&. who under the rum d« pZu»«o(
Nevayi wrote much that shows true talent and poetic feehng, found
Their way to the Ottoman capital, where they were seen and copi^
bv Ahmed Pasha, one of the viziers of Muhammed II. The poemi
„?tMssUt«man though POfessing'ittle merit of their own, being
for the most part mere translations from Nevayi, fo™ one of the
Kndmarks in the history of Ottoman literature. They set the
f^hl of ghsSl-writinJ; and their appearance was the sipial
fS a more rigular cultivation of poetty and a g^^ter attenhon te
iterarv stvle and to refinement of language. In Sm4n Puha
aS n^nister of Muhammed the .Conqueror. Ottoman pros,
found its first exponent of ability ; he left a religious treatise
entHled roSrru'^ (Supplications), which, notwithstanding a too
lavish employment of t^e resources of Persian jhetericu as re-
m™^brfor iS clear and lucid style as for the beauty of many ol
Sie thouVh^ it contains. The most noteworthy writers, of the
Conauerofs reign are, after Ahmed and Sinan the two lync poet.
NeZ and ZiC whose verses show a considerable improvement
u^n those of Ahmed Pasha, the romantic poete Jemili and Hamdi.
3 the poetes^ Zeyneh and MihrL Like most of h^ hous^
M^iammld II. was foid of poetry and P*t"°l^''f. ":" ? !''^«
Ho himself tried versification, and some of his hues which ha. .
come down to us appear quite equal to the avenge work of hu
Tontemprarrl Tw%-Jne out of the thirty- our so™-e.^
who have occupied the throne of Osm!in)^ye\eftvete^.^a
among these Sefim I. stands out. not merely "the greatest rule^
w3fr and statesman, but also as the most gifted a^d. "o*
r^^nll ™eL HU work U unhappily for the greater part in the
pXn iTg^age ; the ^ceUence'^of what he has done in T.irkjsh
mS us re^et that he di4 lO Uttle. The most prominent mu^
rf lettera uSder Selim 1. was the legist Kemal Pasha-zAda, bo-
qu n fycai^d Ihn-KemAl, who ^^^in^-^^i^Zt' of Y^uQ
and verse He left a romantic poem on the loves ol /"»"'«"?
7alevkhl and a work entitled l^dristdn. which is modelled both
Se and matter on the OuliZn of Sadi. Hia oontemporary.
Sesii whose beautiful verses on spnng are perhaps bett«
"' irEurope than any other Turkish poem, deserves a pass-
%fth^he' accession of Selim's son, SiUeyman L, the classical ClarfoJ
neriod beri^s^ HUherto all Ottoman writing, even the most highly per»d
Sedffbefn somewhat rude and uncouth -, but now a marked
improvement becomes visible alike in the manner and the matter.
LnS authors of greater abUity begin to^^^f.^'iJ^^ PP'^^*^
TTiijiilL one' of the four gieat poets of the old school, seems w
nf Tnrkish. and was most probably that of the l^ersian 'ur"" "'
thosT^vs Tuzuli showeS far more originality than any of hu
nredeceS.r8 : foTalthough his work is naturally Persian in form
LT ce?iKfluential personages who came under "^tS
duced Murid IV. to permit his execution Nefi. who, 1. He i; uzu«
Classical
;irose
"TiUrs
Shak r a conteraporarv. was the most successful X.v.l. Jtv-;
Ibml.iai and Jluhammed I\ ., calls for a little more attention
,T"' ""^i'^' author copied, and so imported into Otto:„a" mer".
ture a didactic style of gha^.l- writing which was then wlncr
"i w inl;- vr'/ ''' 'i-V'"' ^-^ ■■ ""tsociosei/did the ^u ;^
kni? ,1 T ■''"^''''•■P' «f ^'^ "'«'" that It is not always easy to
kDo« t ut hi, Unes »re intended to be Turkish. A uumlie; of
^el^nliM q"' ^^i>'J/^»'b'. ^S^'''^ P.sha, Rahnii of the C ime^
heliui, and Sami are the most notable, took Nabi for their mod?
hu eh";.h ""/ """'"L'"^ "" ">%"• »"" "■''->' he coTstmctcd
his gha^cU Among the writers of this time who di.l not conv
with 110 grj:at success, to open i,;, a new path for himself \VV
now reach the rci^n of Ahmed 111 .'du.ing which floun hid Ned^
the greatest of .l! the poets of the old Ichool Li tie appea^To
be known about his life further than that he resided at Cons?an
linople and was alive in the veir ir'7 (a ii 1 1401 K. In .. j
guite alone he.co,.>d nooni. .r'i -ilo^t:^ l^^^^^l^^T^:^^;
hin, There is in his poetry a joyousness and spnf;l,tmess w nch
HT.'uJT"^ru " '""" "'" ^°'^ °f »"y o'h" Tu.klsh author
"m maTvirc^'r' 1 ^^""".^" ,-'•» great elegance and finish, con.
^f are aZfvf 1 "'"' <",'K'"«'."i«'^. sn-l H'e words he mak« use
or are al«a>s chosen wiil, a v,ew to harmony and caj.nce His
of Nentrh'n"'' "^"'u ">■'"' e'.^-^^l^; for. ,v1„|e ,hey r ai those
n« nL ^"l^'rSy- they surpass then, in beauty of diction a"d
conceit! T^ecfl^ii'i'* '^"■^a"'^''" "' '^"^-''^ ""^ f-f'^ch '1
S J , .Jhecli^sical period cames to an end with Nedini ■ its
jiili nf V .' " "■"' "•'"'='' f^"^ ''^'"«" "«- 'i^e of Nefia d'the
Z. „? AK*'''T',°'' '""" """'''y' that extending from the acccs-
?730 au'r'" '■■ '"" ""^2^' '" "- -i^-po^ition^f Ahmed lU.
thJn.!^"' "^e'ance at the prose writeis of this period. Under
the name of Bumdyun .Vdrm. (Imperial Book) 'Alf Chelebi r^ade
Antl^^T^A ''^"^'^"0" of the well-known Pei.tn cS
Aitrar-i Sithajl,, dedicating it to Su evm.in I Sad.nrt n.n 7k«
IZ'T °^*'"^^ '"•■ "'°'^ » valu^Me hiltory of tt "mpi^
from the earliest times to the death of Selim I. This work Oie
Taj-iU-Teiarikh (Cromi of Chronicles), is reckoned on account of
.« ornate yet clear style, one of the niasterpi ces ^f the old sc lool
"t^Xth: IT °^'" "''\°^'" "' '" °f ^""^'^ which are >ni„e,:
OfS^y u^I n 'l *""'"" *^"",; ^'!'' 8^'*' '"inuteness and detail
&^rrt'?Xuelnrr;'p::^^r;™nr^'^^^^^^^^^^^^^
tha?of t'i'"'" 'f^' 1'^"°) '°''^« 10-o\\'omrasU t^'i/wltl
that of the earlier historian, being written with great dkeaness
and lucidity combined with much vigour and pict, resnueness
EWiya, who died during the reign of Muhammed I V s nXd for
ALTtllTimeVltl'r ''''i "-'--Is in d.fTere'nt co"nr,i "
a ce lebrated^t J V''"''7 'u''* .'"S.in and ■AL-i-llih cont.nued
HourishSiinderZ ?•;?' "^ "'^ ''fil^'* ^'"^ ^^^i''''^ "ho had
nounsned under the Ottoman moimchs. Hdji Khalifa (see vol vi
men o 'tewii^in T^k "T ^'"'i^^'' ""^ ""^ "^ "'-""' '"-ous
avini wrtn»n r .^ ^ ''^u P™J"oed. He died in 165!! (106S>.
,W,°r,l, 1 ^ ^'^' """'*'" of learned woiks on h stoiv
.'^Z f ^- "^''""Jlo^. g^graphy. and other subjects Th. Pc, si n"
■zing tendency of this school reached its highest point n he mo
oS MnTanv'lf ,h ^""' ='"'' -^"^^ S"^'' '^ "^ i"'- on 1
OMcuutj in many of the compositions of these two authors lh-.t
every sentence becomes a p.uzle ov.i which even a scho a 1 Oin;
nan niust pause before he%an be s,„e he has found 1,1"^°"°:
ilLJi^ T P".""''S P'^ '" '^"'^'=y "^s established by "„
Hunganan who had assumed the name of Ibrahim, and in 1728
T U K K E Y
657
i '' '/.' ',, \'PP^."'=d *he first book printed in that country- ; it was Van-
kuh s Inrkish translation of Jevhcri's Arabic dictionary
wo?t°h"v H TJ ,'" "'n Pof ■ x?'"'"^' P"'""'' "■'' fi"'i "fnong poets Post-
Vehb/ea h ,f >'h" Bel.gh, >"■■'=-<. H'shmet. and Sunbu1i.zadaclas.icaJ
\ ehbi. eaih of «hom wrote in a style peculiai to himself. Three neriod
ZZsllTu7^"4r\^"^"''' ■?".<' ^^'y^^' Ghahb-flourshed"^™"-
u iT ,',' ^''^ last named is the fourth great poet of the
old school. ^,.™ « -AM (Beauty and Love), as his great poem is
now':^; GMI hT^^' """'"" f"" ?' '"^"''^""^ and imagSve
power Ghalibs style is as original as that of Fuziili l?en or
tl \ 1 he most distinguished of the prose writers of this period
pj^l » T^urkish t«o great lexicons, the Arabic A'dmw and the
Persian Burhan-i Knt,\ and K.ini. the only humirous writer of
luei It belonging to the old school uuiorous writer ol
When we reach the reign of Mahmiid IF . the great transition Transi
^Ve'sl hl^?T" ^f^'y- ''"'"S '^l-'^h the cullization 0 he uTn
\\ est began to struggle in earnest with that of the East we find nS^od
the change which was coming over all things Turkish affecting
literature along with the rest, and preparing^ the way for the an?
fTz'iI b"v ^^'^Trru"] J'" ^'-' I'o^'^ of the t^ansi.io a?e
i-azil liey. \\as.l. notable for his not altogether unhappy attempt
fn b ■ f M ^f^\''- ""'' ""^ poetesses Fitnet and Levla.
fn the woiks of all of these. althoug\i we occasionally discern a
hin of the new style, the old Pe,^ian=n„n„er is still supreme
More intimate rel.itions with western Europe and a pre?ty general Modem
sudy of the French language and literature, tngcthevfth, School
M/i'^fir'^"' the reloinm,. tendency fairly started under
Mahnuid II , have lesulted in tTie birth of the new or modern
school, whose objects are truth and simplicity. In the p^lufca^
writings of Reshid and Akif Pasha, we have the fir t cleaiw.ot 0
change: but the man to whom more than to any oth r he new
departure owes its success is Shinisi Efendi, «ho employed it foT
poetry as well as for prose. The European style, o"fts mroduc
t.on, encountered the most violent opposition, but notv alo„e
IS used by living authors of repute. If' any of these doM wil e a
pamphlet in the old manner, it is merely as a (ourd^ftJi,
t la It is not, as he supposes, lack of ability which causes the
the Wesr Th.'°b'',°P,' ""' "'"'''^^ ^'■^' ■"<>'' """ral fa h on of
he \\ est. The «hole tone, sentiment, and foim of Ottoman litera-
ure have been revo iitiomzed by the new school : variet"eTo?p„etrv
hitherto unknown have been adopted from Europe ; an altogether
new branch .of iterature. the diania, h.,s arisen , whle°he sciences
are now treated and seriously studied aftei the system of the West
Pa^ha^jrvdefp"""'?,'^''™' "'"' ''^'" -on di^tlmio 1 a e Z yi
lasha.Jevdet Pasha, the statesman and historian Ekrem Bev th^
author of a beautiful series of n.iscellaiKons poems >f;„-.TaHdmid
K:i;;aT^cv thele"; ""r' f-"' T""^ OtToman diraStf and
llna.i ^' r '^'■■' °' ""' '""•'•=^" ^fhool and one of the most
llustnous men of letters whom his country has modure,> H»
has written with consjucuons success in almo t e? ry bianch of
Fo'r the T 'I'kn'i """'"''■ *"""' f""">'- ""•" 'he d,4ma ^ "^
Ti,^ . Tu,ki,.h hinguagc, see p. 601 below
-niter ul ihe l„„e of Sutey ,;,•,„ M Turkth\^1 / ' '■"■•"; "'J""' ' "^""'-cre
U, C:-,^,U ,1c K,.bi K>„; Lv Av.". 1 ?• .' '';"",""■ ''.'■ H.-iiiimerdVslI,);
..( OIto,„.v, |,...tn- i' cixn i:v K, .?,'J i! *■ *" """"'■■'■K ""i v.iluaOie AHcb
TURKEY.an abbreviation for Tdhkey Cock or Tcrkev-
Hen- as the case may be. a well-knowi, large domestic
gallinaceous btrd. How it came by tbis name hrion'
l>«cn a matter of discussion, for it is certain that t),i.s vah^
able Snmial was introduced to Europe from the New
World, and in its introduction had noiliing to do with
in"[ h Y'.^""' '^"''''' ^''"' •" "^^ "''^ ""^ ^■""^"ded sense
in which that term was applied to all Mahometans But
U IS almost as unquei=tionab!o that the name wai: oii^rin-
al.y applied to the bird which ,ve know as the Guin°ea-
ihrM"-^' f ^IV*""^ '" "° '^'-'"'^' t'^^t some authors in
l^e loth and l.th centuries curiously confounded these
t«o spec.es. As both birds became more common and
Detter known, tne distinction was gradually perceived and
^e name "Turkey" clave to thatlrom th^e New Wor'ld-
PQssibly be^cause of its repeated cail-notc-to be syllabled
turk, turk, turk, whereby it may be almost said to hav^
named itself (,, Kot..„ad Quer..., ser G. iii pp. 2.3 369;
But e^en Linnieus could not dear himself of the con uXn
a..d unhappily misapplied the name ihleagns uncWbi;
belonging to the Guinea-Fowl, as the gencrfc tc iT o vha^
TjrJ'^'Y' ^"« Turkey, adding U,.-reto a. its specS
t.? Tl "''^\ "'""-'^ """^ '^''""^ f^^e f^om error, wal
!uTc""ors.." '" '""""' ''" contemporaries and 'eve,!
One of the earliest German nCsfJuiebi^'Avltr, :7 1?^
XXIII. — 53
653
T U R -T U R
The Turkey, so far as we know, was first described by Oviedo in
his Sumaru) At la Natural Historia ck las Indias' (cap. xxxvi.),
said to have been published in 1527. He, not unnaturally, includes
both Curassowa and Turkeys in one category, calling both " Pavos "
(Peafowls) ; but he carefully distinguishes between them, pointing
out amojig other things that the latter make a wheel {haan la rueda)
of their tail, though this was not so grand or so beautiful as that
of the Spanish "Pavo," and he gives a faithful though shor'.
description of the Turkey, The chief point of interest in his
account is that he speaks of the species havine been already taken
from New Spaiu (Mexico) to the islands and to Castilla del Oro
(Darien), where it bred In a domestic state among the Christians.
Much labour has been given by various naturalists to ascertain the
date of its. introduction to Europe, to which we can at present only
make an approximate attempt ;" but after all that has been written
It is plain that evidence concurs to show that the bird was established
in Eurono by 1530 — a very short time to have elapsed since it
became known to the Spaniards, which could hardly have been
before 151S, when Mexico was discovered. The possibility that it
had been brought to England by Cabot or some of his successors
earlier in the century is not to be overlooked, and reasons will
presently be assigned for supposing that one of the breeds of
English Turkeys may have had a northern origin j' but the often
quoted distich first given in Baker's Chronicle (p. 298), asserting
that Turkeys came into Englandjn the same year — and that year
by reputation 1524 — as carps, pickerels, and other commodities, is
wholly untrustworthy, for we "know that both these fishes lived in
the country long before, if indeed they were not indigenous to it.
The earliest documentary evidence of its existence in England is a
"constitution" set forth by Cranmer in 1541, which Hearne first
printed ( Leland's Collectanea, ed. 2, vi. p. 38). This names "Turkey-
cocke" as one of ** the greater fowles" of which an ecclesiastic
was to have " but one in a dishe," and its association with the
Crane and Swan precludes the likelihood of any confusion with the
Guinea-Fowl. Moreover the comparatively low price of the two
Turkeys and four Turkey. chicks served at a feast of the serjeants-
at-law in 1555 (Dugdale, Origincs, p. 135) points to their having
become by that time abundant, and indeed by 1573 Tusser bears
witness to the part they hid already begun to play in "Christmas
husbandlie fare." In 1555 both sexes were characteristically
figured by belon {Oyseaux, p. 249), as was the cock by Gesner in
the same year, and these are the earliest representations of the bird
known to exist.
There is no need to describe here a bird so familiar and in these
days so widely distributed. As a denizen of our poultry - yards
(see Poultry, vol. xix. p. 646) there are at least two distinct
breeds, though crosses between them are much commoner than
purely -bred examples of either. That known as the Norfolk
breed is the taller of the two, and is said to be the more hatdy.
Its plumage is almost entirely black, with very little lustre, but
the feathers of the tail and some of those of the back have a brown-
ish tip. The chicks also are black, with occasionally white patches
on the head. The other breed, called the Cambridgeshire, is much
more variegated in colour, and some parts of the plumage have a
bright metallic gloss, while the chicks are generally mottled
with brownish grey. White, pied, and buff Turkeys are also often
seen, and if care be taken they arc commonly found to *' breed
true." Occasionally Turkeys, the cocks especially, occur with a
top-knot of feathers, and one of them was figured by Albin in 1738.
It has been suggeeted with some appearance of probability that the
Norfolk breed may be descended from the northern form, AfeUagris
gallopavo or americana, while the Cambridgeshire breed may spring
from the southern form, the if. mexicaTia of Gould (Proc. Zool.
SocUly, 1856, p. 61), which indeed it very much resembles, especi-
' Purchas {Pilgrimes, ill. p. 995) in 1625 quoted both from this
and from the same author's Bysloria Oentrai, said to have been pub-
lished a few years later. Oviedo's earlier work is only known to the
present wTiter by the reprint of 1852.
' The bibliography of the Turkey is so large that there is here no
room to name' the various works that might be cited. Recent research
has failed to add anything of importance to what has been said on
this point by BufTon (Oweoiu;, ii pp. 132-162), Pennant {Arclie
Zoology, pp. 291-300), — in admirable summary, — and Broderip {Zoo-
logical RecTealioru, pp. 120-137) — not that all their statements can
be wholly accepted. Barrington's essay (Miacdlanies, pp. 127-151),
to prove that the bird was known before the discovery of America
and was transported thither, is an ingenious piece of special pleading
which his friend Pennaut'did him £he real kindness of ignoring.
• In 1672 Josselin {New EnglaruTs Rarities, p. 9) speaks of the
eettlers bringing up " great store of the wild kind " of Turkeys, " which
remain about their houses as tame as ours in England." The bird
was evidently plentiful down to the very seaboard of Massachusetts,
and it is not likely to have been domesticated by the Indian tribes there,
A3, according to Hernandez, it seems to have been by the Mexicans.
It was probably easy to take alive, and, as we know, capable of endur-
ing the voyage to England,
ally in having its tail-coverts and qnills tipped with white or light
ochreous, — points that recent North-American ornithologists rely
upon as distinctive of this form. If this supposition be true, there
would be reason to believe in the double introduction of the bird
into England at least, as already hinted, but positive information
is almost wholly wanting.* The northern form of wild Turkey,
whose habits have been described in much detail by all the chief
writers on North-American birds, is now extinct in the settled parts
of Canada and the eastern States of the Union, where it was once
so numerous ; and in Mexico the southern form, which would seem
to have been never abundant since the conquest, has been for many
years rare. Further to the south, on the borders of Guatemala and
British Honduras, there exists a perfectly distinct species, M.ouUata^
whose plumage almost vies with that of a Peacock in splendour,
while the bare skin which covers the head is of a deep blue studded
with orange caruncles (Proc. Zool. Society, 1861, pi. xl.).
The genus MeUagris is considered to enter into thd
Family Phasianidai, in which it forms a Subfamily Mel6-
agrirue, peculiar to North and Central America. The fossil
remains of three species have been described by Prof
Marsh — one from the Miocene of Colorado, and two, one
much taller and the other smaller than the existing speciea,
from the Post-Pliocene of New Jersey. Both the last had
proportionally long and slender legs. (a. n.)
TURKS. The use of the name "Turks" has never
been limited in a clear and definite way from the time of
the Byzantine authors to the present day. To the former,
as also to the Arabs, it has a collective sense like Scythians
or Huns ; * at the present day we are wont to restrict the
name to the Osmanli Turks, though they themselves refuse
to be called Turks, having, as they hold, ceased to be such
in becoming imbued with Arabo-Persian culture. On the
other hand, when we speak of Uigurs and Tatars, we mean
tribes who style themselves Turks and really are such. It
is only by the aid of historical and linguistical evidence that
we can determine the true limits of the Turkish name.
The national Turkish traditions, preserved by theOrigii.
Persian historians Rashid ed-Din and Jowaini from
Uigurian books which are now lost, point to the region
watered by the river Selenga and its affluents, the Orkion
and the Tugila, as the primitive seat of the Turtish peopla
RashId ed-Din combines this tradition with that of the
Mohammedan descendants of Oghuz, who, in accordance
with Moslem traditions, derive the whole Turkish stock
from JapKet, the son of Noah, or more accurately from
Turk, the son of the former (Yafiz-oglan), and pretend
that he pitched his tents in the vicinity of Lake Issyk-kn]
(in Semiryetchensk). But, though Tiu-kish tribes did Ethno-*
wander so far to the west, and even farther, in remote '"'S'<t*!
antiquity, it seems pretty certain that the Uigurian tradi- *"'""'*•
tion has preserved the memory of the true origin of the
race, that Turks and Mongols were originally difiterent
stems of a single people, and that these two members of the
UbaI/- Altaic (?.v.) family were more closely related to each
other than to any other member of the saine family {Finno-
Ugrians, Samoyedes, Tungus-Manchus). The evidence for
this rests, not on the ethnological system of Rashid ed-Din,
though it affords a secondary argument, but on the in-
dubitable affinity of the Mongolian and Turkish languages
and the similarity of the ethnological characters of the two
races. Here, of course, we do not argue from the Osmanlisi,
who have lost all their original race-characters and. have
become " Caucasians " of the best type, but rather, for in-
stance, from the Kirghiz, who are considered as the typical
Tiu-ks of the present day, and are described by Ujfalvy as
being midway between the Mongol and the Caucasian.
We must now turn our attention to the wanderings of the
Turks and their subsequent fate, — a rather difficult task.
* The results of a comparison of the skulls of wild and domesticated
Turkeys are given by Dr Shufeldt in Journ. of Comp. Mediciite and
Surgery, July 1887.
* CoQstantine Porphyrogenitus calls the Magyars Turks, even ii^
contradistinction to the truly Turkish Petchenegs.
TURKS
Go9
owing to the want of accurate information. The only
truly historical records are to be found in the Chinese
chronicles and encyclopaedias,' where, however, the Turkish
proper names appear in such distorted forms as to be un-
recogni^iable ; yet, till the 6th century of our era, no other
accounts are available.
Tlie It is generally admitt-ed tb.'it the first Turkish people
Hiing- mentioned by the Chinese are the Hiong-nu, who, wander-
"" ing to the west, occupied the country south of the Altai
Mountains and expelled (about 177 B.C.) the former
occupants of those regions, the Yue-chi,^ Kangoi, and Usun
(U-ssun), — tribes of unknown nationality, but possibly
also Turks.' The Hiongnu were identified by Deguignes
with the Huns, this denomination being used in a political
or collective sense, and including, besides the 'luns proper,
the Ephthalites or White Huns, Avars, Bulgars, Magyars,
Kbazars, and Petchenegs, who are styled by several scholars
Hunnic or Scythian peoples, — a term of no scientific value
whatever, as the main body of these peoples consisted
really if Mongol-Turks or FinnoUgrians. As, however,
separate articles have been devoted to most of these
ethnical names, we abstain from further details, as alse
from discussion of the question of the Turkish origin of
the Magjars and the Kbazars, though that of the former
seems to us as improbable as that of the latter is certain.'
Be this as it may, the Hiongnu are, so to Speak, proto-
Turks, and the history of the Turks proper begins with
TbeTu- the Tu-kiu, the Chinese equivalent of the word Turk
'''•'■ Originally a division of the Hiongnu, almost ertirpated
by wars, but miraculously saved from complete destruction,
the Tu-kiu settled south of the Kin-Shan (Altai?) Moun-
tains, and were miners and iron-smelters in the service of
the Juen-Juen ' ("les Tartares Geou-gen " of Deguignes).
About 552 A D , however, they conquered their former
masters and founded a mighty empire under princes who
took the title of Hi khan In these Tu-kiu Deguignes re-
cognized the Turks who entered into friendly relations with
Byzantium, and to whom Justin II sent two ambassadors,
— Zemarchlis (568) and Valentinus (575). The narratives
of these ambassadors are preserved in the fragments of
Meoander Protector, and (comparing the variations of the
corrupt text with the record of Tabari) from him we learn
that at the first date the reigning prince was Sinjibulus
(Arabic Sinjibu) ' From the Greek and the Arabo-Persian
accounts it seems that Sinjibu put an end to the empire of
' TrBualated id Itie *ell kno^vn works of DeguigDes, Visdelou, &c ;
for a Freoch Iranslation by Stanisl Julieo of the accounts of the
Pien i lien, referring to the Tu-kiu, see /ourn Asiat , 1864, p 325 sq
' Comp Persia, vol iviii pp 692 4, 600, 603
' Radloff, for instance, thinks that the nan-.e U ssun, and perhaps
remnants of the people denoted by It, survive in the present Uisuns,
t division of the Great Horde of the Kirghiz. At the time of
Alexander the Great's exjieditions against the Scythians beyond the
Jazartes, we find in that region certain traces of the Turkish language
Id Dames of places and persons (cp vol iviii p 5S2, note 4). It
[s therefore certain that long before the age of the Hiong.nn Tnrki,^h
tribes had spread to the borders of the Jaxarte-*. and even along the
aorthem coast of the Caspian to the rivers Ural and Volga. But the
ithnical denominations of antiquity — Scythians, Parthians, Massageta^.
Sacs, &c. — do not convey to our mind clear ethnical distinction*:, -^o
that the true nationality of these peoples has l)een much debated.
Neither are the pre-Semitic culture of Babylonia and the supposed
•* Turanian *■ origin of the Accads facts of such character that from
them we can infer the presence o1 Tiirks in these reeions in remote
cntiquity.
* On the Petchenegs see below.
* From their Chinese name it may be inferred that the Juen.Juen
were a Mongolian people, in which case the Avars, who are supposed
lo have been a division of them, were also Mongols.
" See Noldeke, Geschichte der Perser and Araler, p. 158. The first
part of Ibis name is without doubt the Turkish ninjii, sun^, which
means "lance," a Turkish proper name of the same kind as Kilij =
"sword," which in its Persian form, Nizek. was afterwards borne by a
prince^f .Transoxiana, ofteo mentioned in the accounts of the Arabic
conquest.
the Ephthalites or Haitals in those regions. He shared
the conquered country with Khosrau I the Oxus becoming
the frontier between Iran and Turan. The memory of the
empire of Sinjibu and of its political strength has been
preserved by the Arabic authors Ibn Khordadbeh and
Mas'udi, who inform us that the Turkish tribe of the
Karluks, settled in the provinces of Ferghana and Shash
(Tashkend), were of old the mightiest of all the Turks, and
that their sovereign, the khakan of khakans, was obeyed
by all the neighbouring princes. To them they reckon the
mythical Afrasiab and the historical Shawa " It is un-
certain at what epoch the empire of the Karluks came to
an end, but the Chinese assert that about 650 they i educed
the inhabitants of the Hi and Jaxartes territory, though
they were unable to protect them aftetwards against the
inroads of the Arabs under Kotaiba b Moslim (706-714)
The latter defeated the armies sent to their aid under
Kurbogha Noyon, a sister's son of the Chinese emperor '
It is also doubtful if the so-called Afrasiab kings or Ilek-:
khans, who reigned in the 10th century at Kashgar and i
Balasaghun and conquered (999) the dominions of the '
Samanids in Transoxiana, belonged to the Karluks, as is
supposed by GrigoriefT and Lercb, or to the Uigurs, as i
others think, *
The name Uigurs is very common during the Mongolian Th»
period, and Rashid ed-Din and others use it (by an ana- Uiguri
chronism) in speaking of remote antiquity, though it is
wholly unknown to the Arabic geographers, and,asVamb6ry
has shown, to the Uigurs themselves, — nay, even impossible
in the old Turkish language, in which the form would be
Utkur. The name Ugur, Ogur, or Ogor of Byzantin(
authors is really different ; but Grigorieff has recognized
the name in the corrupt Arabic form of Tagazgaz, which
must be read Toguz-Ugur,^ the "Nine Ugurs," to dis
tinguish them from another division of the same tribe,
the On-Ugur or "Ten Ugurs." In the time of Ibn Khor-
dadbeh and Mas'udi these Turks had gained the supremacy
amongst their brethren, and had their residence at Kushan,
which has been identified with the Kiao chang of the
Chinese. According to their accounts, the Kiao-chang
form the southern division of the Hui-khe (Hoei-ke of
Deguignes), and were settled before the Christian era south
and east of the Tian-Shan up to the Pamir plateau and
the Kuen-Lun, The Arabic authors make them adherents
of Manichseism ; but, as the original Turkish Shamanism
has developed into a dualistic system, this statement may
rest on a partial misapprehension It seems, however,
certain that Buddhism reached these Turks on its way
towards China, for we know that this religion spread in
the 2d century B c throughout the adjacent kingdom of
Bactria, atid was still flourishing when Hwen-T'sang visited
(7th century) those regions. Thus we can understand why
the old Ural-Altaic religion bears a Sanskrit name The
northern division of the Hui khe, which remained unknown
to the Arabs, wandered from the Selenga region to the
sources of the Yenisei, vanquished the Tu-kiu (745), and
fo' nded an empire from the Selenga to Lake Balkash,
till they were overthrown (84 1) by the Ha kas (identified
with the Kirghiz). These northern Uigurs are called by
the Chinese Kao-che, Chi le, Dili, and Tele The history
of the southern branch is unknown, for the chronological
data of Rashid ed-Din and Abu '1 Ghazi are contradictory;
and useless, though their statements that the prince bore
the title of Idi-kut and submitted to the Mongols have
full historical weight That the Uigurs rose during the
' Cp. Mas'udi, ed Paris, i 2S8 , Noldeke. ul siip , p 269. n J
^ The title Noyon, if the present writer's conjecture on the test of,
TatiarT, ii. 1195, is right, proves that Kurlwsba was a Mongolian prince. ■
' Before this Rein..nd had conjectured that the Tagazgaz were lh»,
same as the Uigurs, but failed to correct the Arabic corruption.
660
TURKS
Tat
eoegs.
The
Mongolian epoch to a certain auprcmacy "by higher culture
is attested by Rashid ed-Din and Jowaini, who often men-
tion Uigurian books.
The Petchenegs (Gr. iraT^iraKai, TlaT^.yaKirui.; Mag-
yar Beseny'6; Lat. Bisseni) were of old, as Constantine
Porphyrogenitus tells us, settled about the lower Ural and
Volga, but were driven thence (894-899) by the Olmzz
(Ouzoi). A part of them returned afterwards to their
ancient abode, but the great majority wandered westward
and settled on both sides of the Dnieper, driving the
Hungarians before them to the Carpathians. Here they
annoyed the neighbouring peoples by their raids, and en-
gaged readily in the Russian expeditions against the Greek
empire, till the policy of the Byzantine court incorporated
large numbers of them with its own armies, sometimes
with fatal result, as was experienced by Romanus Diogenes,
when these auxiliaries passed to the camp of his antagonist
Alp Arslan. At the period of the first crusad j the Christian
armies met with them on their march through Servia and
Bulgaria ; but the Petchenegs are not mentioned after the
loth century. The learning of Orientalists has discovered
faint traces of the language once spoken by them in the
Turkish dialect of the Bosnians.'
Comans or Cumani (Russ. Polowtze, Magyar Palocz and
Civ.an8. Kun) is a term chiefly used by Europeans for the Turkish
tribes that occupied Moldavia and the adjacent regions of
south Russia. The origin of the name is uncertain ; but
it seems to be Turkish, though it rarely occurs in Oriental
records. The most probable conjecture regarding .the
people denoted by it is that they were a mixture of Ghuzz
and Petchenegs. Oriental authors know much more of
their neighbours to the east, the Kipchaks, a very common
name of Turkish clans down to the present-day. Some-
times both names are combined : Rubruquis speaks of the
Coman Kipchaks. Anna Comnena informs us that the
Comans spoke the same dialect as the Petchenegs, a dialect
well known to European scholars from the so-called Codex
Cumanicus.2 On the arrival of the Mongols in these
regions, the Kipchaks suflfere'd great hardships, and large
numbers of them were sold as slaves throughout the
Mohammedan world. From them sprang the Bahrite
Mameluke sultans of Egypt (1250-1380). The Comans
sought refuge amongst the Hungarians and became Chris-
tians ; but their arrival, causing internal dissensions in
Hungary, greatly favoured the advance of the Mongolian
arms. The remnants of the Comans, Kipchaks, and other
Turkish tribes continued to dwell in southern Russia under
Mongolian rule (see Mongols), whilst others became merged
with the Hungarians.
The Ghuzz dwelt originally in the far East amongst the
Toguz-Ugur, but migrated in the reign of the caliph Al-
Mahdl (775-785) to Transoxiana, where they adhered to
the cause of the famous Al-Mokanna', not from religious
predilection, but to satisfy their love of war and plundef.
In the same manner they afterwards served every warlike
prince in their neighbourhood, and entered like other
Turks into the service of the caliphs. The main body of
the life-guard of the 'AbbasiJs consisted of Turks, and
some individuals rose very soon to high commands. En-
trusted with the administration of distant provinces, they
founded independent princely houses, such as those of the
Tulunids and Ikhshids in Egypt (vol. vii. p. 750) and the
'Ghaznavids (see Gh.4ZNi). In the meantime fresh bands
of the Ghuzz poured from the east and the north into
Turkestan, the region becoming overstocked with a nomadic
population. Some of them sought and found an outlet to
the west by occupying the territory of the Petchenegs and
joining the Turkish population of southern Russia; but
' Comp. Blau, Bosnisch-Turkische Spr.Khdcnkm/iler (Luipsic, 18G8),
P- 315. • Edited by Geza Kuun, Buiia Pesih, 1380-83.
The
Ghuzz.
the great majority, seeing the ruined state of the empire
of the caliphs, crossed the Ox us and overran the northern
and eastern provinces of Per sia. How these loose desul-
tory bands were guided lo subsequent victories, and
moulded with the peoples amongst whom they settled into
regular political bouies, has been already narrated under
Seljdks {q.v.).
Meanwhile they underwent a great change in their out- TiA-
ward appearance, habits, i-c, as Rashid ed-Din relates, "^''*
owing to'the influence of the air and the water, and, we
may add, to frequent intermarriage with the inhabitants
of the countries invaded by them. After some generations
the change was great enough to strike their Iranian neigh-
bours, who called them Turkmans (Turcomans),' a term
implying resemblance to Turks. It is therefore quite
natural that the modern Osmanlis should have become
Caucasians; for, if Rashid ed-Din in the 13th century
noticed the difference between a Turkman and a genuine
Turk, the six centrries which have elapsed since amply
suSice to have obliterated all original Ural-Altaic charac-
teristics. The 'old name Ghuzz, originally, as it seems,
the Turkish Oghuz (an eponymous hero of whom Turkish
chronicles tell many fables) was wholly superseded by the
new name Turkmau and by other political names.
During the Seljukian period there arose in Transoxiana Empire
th" empire of the Kharizm shahs, founded by Mohammed °f Kh5r-
b. Anushtcgin, upon whom the government of Kharizm "^^
(Khiva), — which down to 995 had belonged to princes of
Iranian descent — was conferred (1097) by the Seljuk
prince Barkiyarolf. His son Atsiz became independent
(1138), but his empire seemed destined to early ruin by
the arrival of the Kara-Chitai, who defeated the Seljuk
prince Sinjar (1141) and became for a time supreme
masters of Turkestan. Nevertheless ' the Kharizmian
dynasty held its place as a tributary sovereignty, and
developed great power under the princes Takash and
Mohammed his son. The former defeated and killed
(1194) the last Seljuk prince of 'Irak, and the latter ex-
tended his dominion from the' Caspian to the Indus and
from the Jaxartes to the coast of 'Oman. His cunning
antagonist, the 'Abbasid caliph An-Nasir, invoked the aid
of Jeughiz Khan, who scarcely required this invitation to
attack Mohammed. The sack of Bokhara was followed
in the same year (1220) by that of the other principal
cities of Transoxiana and by the persecution of the un-
happy prince, who died in a forgotten island of the Cas-
pian. His son Jelal-ed-Din was driven towards India, but
by a change of fortune ascended once more the throne of
his fathers, till the new Mongol khan, Ogdai, sent fresh
armies against him and forced him to seek refuge in the
Kurdish Mountains, where he- was murdered (1231). The
fate of the Turks of Transoxiana was shared by their
brethren in Asia and Europe, and new MongoI-'Turkish
empires arose, of which an outline has been given under
Mongols. As the Mongol rule grew weaker, there arose
in Persia and on the frontiers of Asia Minor the Turkman
dynasties of the Ak Koyun-lu, the Kara Koyun-lu, the
Zu'1-kadria, and the Ramazan Oglu, whose history is closely
connected either with that of the rise of the Ottoman
power (see below) or with the history of Persia (see vol.
xviii. p. 632 sq.).
At t!i" present day the Turkish people occupy a very extensive Modem
area, the" centre of whicli lies in Kuiva, Bokhara, and Khokand, tribes,
and which stretches from the lower Lena in Siberia to the Danube
and from the Crimea to Kerman and India. Politically thuy be-
' The term "Turkman" occurs in Arabic chronicles of the Seljukian
period, and evtn in Mokaddasf, p. .274. Rashid ed-DIn therefore
exaggerates in stfiting that it only came into use in his lifetime. But
Vamb^ry's statement that it was api)lied of old to the descendants of
Oghuz is contradicted by the genuine Persian text of Rashid ed-DTn
and the unanimous testimony of history. His objections against the
popular etymology mentioned above arc, however, not quite unfoundelL
TURK S
661
long to Rus'^li, Turkey. Persia, China, and Afghanistan, lii religion
the great raajority are Mohammedana ; a few tribes in Russia are
baptized Christians ; and somo others adhere to the original Sha-
manism, which has also influenced the religious conceptions of the
Christian and Mohammedan Turks. The principal Turkish peoples
are the following. (I.) By a popular distinction the Turks of
Xlltars. Siberia and Russia, with some colonies in Turkey, are styled Tatars
(see Tartars), though the Yakuts of northern Sioeria are not usu-
ally included in this term. The Yakuts, who are perhaps a mixture
of Turkish and Tungus tribes, deviatiog from the ordinary course
of Turkish wanderings, are settled about the lower Lena, and number
probably 200,000 (Rittig, 80.000 ; Lansdell, 210,000).' They are
Kirghix. nominally Christians. (11.) On the Kirghiz (kara- Kirghiz and
Kaziiks) and Kara-Kalpaks see Kirghiz; but note that the Kip-
chaks. named there ns a sep.orate tril>e, really form a subdivision of
the Kazak-Kirghiz, and are perhaps akin to the Kitai-Kipchaks,
■I jbegs who lire reckoned to the Uzbegs. (III.) Uzbeg is a political, not
an ethnological denomination, originating from Uzbeg Khan o*" the
Golden Horde(13I2-1.340). It was used to distinguish the followers
of Shaib&ni Khan (I6th century) from bis antagonists, and became
finally the name of the ruling Turks in the khanates as opposed to
the Sarts, Tajiks, and such Turks as entered those regions at a
later date and are koown to be Kirghiz, Kara-Kalpaks, or Taranjis.
The Uzbegs are therefore a mijted race of different Turkish tribes.
According to Kostenko,' they number 201,972 in the Russian pro-
vinces of Sir -Dana, Ferghana, Zerafshan, and Amu -Dana, and
Vambery conjectures that there are 1,000,000 more iu Bokhara,
700,000 in Khiva, and 200,000 under Afghan supremacy, giving a
total number of about 2,000,000. They are agriculturists or inhabit
Eastern the cities; a few are semi-nomads. (IV. ) The eastern Turks on the
Turks. southern slopes of the Tian-Shan Mountains at Kashgar, Ust-
tnrfan, Ak-su, Sairara, Kutcha, Yarkand, Khotan, &c. , are the rem-
nants of the ancient Uigurs ; and of the same origin are the Taranjis
( = agriculturists), settled in the 111 valley and elsewhere. The
numoer of the latter is given as about 50,000 ; that of the former
may be estimated from the statements of Forsylh^and Kuropatkin*
at about 1,000,000 for the whole district, the great majority being
Turk- Turks and the rest Mohammedan Chinese (Sungans). (V.) The
cuaDs. . Turcomans (properly Turkmans) inhabit the steppe east of the Cas-
pian and south of the Oxus from Astrabad to the Paropamisus.
The term is sometimes taken to include their brethren in Persia
and Asia Minor, who will be treited separately. The following are
the principal tribes: — (1) theTchaudors and Imrailis, in the north-
western part of the Ust-Urt to the Gulf of Karaboghaz ; (2) the
Yomuts, extending from Khiva across the Ust-Urt to the Caspian,
and along the sea-board to Persia ; (3) the Goklen, on Persian ter-
ritory, between the upper Gbrgen and Atrek ; (4) the Tekkes, the
most numerous tribe at tho present day, divided into the Akhal
Tekkes and the Merv Tekkes, so named after the centres where
their greatest numbers are found ; (5) the Sakars, on the left bank
of the Oxus, to tho east of Tcharjui, considered by Vambery as a
division of the Tekkes ; (6) the Sariks, at Penjdeh and Yul-utan
on the north-western slopes of the Paropamisus; (7) the Salors,
one of the oldest Turkman tribes, who suffered greatly from the
Tekkes, till they finally migrated (1857) to Zurabad in Persia, and
left their former districts to ths Tekkes and Sariks; (8) the Ersaris,
on the Oxus dbout Khoja Salih ; and (9) the Ali-elis, about Andkhui.
Their total number, inclusive of some Turkmans who do not belong
to any of these tribes, and are scattered throughout the provinces
of Syr-Daria, Amu-Daria, Zerafshan, and Astrakhan (about 16,000),
is estimated by Vambery at about 1,000,000, and by Grodekoflfat
1,170,000. The Turkmans are, with few exceptions, nomads, and
were formerly tho terror of their neighbours, who feared them as
the "man-stealing Turks" ; but since Merv has been annexed to
Russia (1384) they have been compelled to abandon their predatory
habits.^ (VI ) The Turkish nomads scattered throughout Persia
are partly the descendants of the Ghuzz tribes that invaded the
country at the Seljukian period ; others have migrated thither in
Ilivat. the following centuries. They are known by the name of Hat or
Jliyat (meaning tribes or peoples) and consist of several tribes,
having each its own chieftain, the Ilkhani, appointed by the shah.
An accurate Ust of tho names of these tribes does not exist ; but
the most powerful and most numerous are the following. (1) The
Kajars, who dwelt in Transcaucasia down to the time of Abbas the
Great, by whom one division of them was compelled to settle at
the south-east comer of the Caspian near Astrabad. To this division
belongs the present dynasty of Persia. (2) The Afshars or Aushars,
a very numerous tribe, in the province of Adarbaijan (Azerbijan).
A division is also settled in the mountainous regions of the Anti-
taurus ; its members are nominally subjects of the Ottoman empire
hut really independent (3) The Shekakis and Shah-sewen. The
1 Cp. E- Petri, "Neuerea ut)er die Jakuten," in Peierm. Mitth., 1837, voL
Jtxiiti p. 102 tq. i TurkatajisHi Krai, St Petersburg, 1880, p. S2tJ.
* Report of a Mistion to Yarkand.
* Eoihqaria, translated by W. E. Gowan. Calcutta, 1S82.
* Cp. N. PetruMvitch. The Turamuns, translated by R. MicheU ; O'DonovsD,
r^ Merr OaaU, London, 1882 ; and the Jouxnals of travellers In these regions,
</amb6rj, Sctanyler, Leasar. Ac-
latter is not a tribal, but a political name, meaning thuse who lore
the shah, i.e., partisans of the Safari dynasty (1499-1736) and the
Shi'ite faith. (4) The Kara Koyun-lu, near the town of Khoi, th«
remnants of the onco powerful tribe named above. Besides these,
many other names are recorded of tribes wandering in the Trana-
caucasian regions and in tha provinces of Adarbaijan and Mazen-
deran, but many of them are very uncertain. All these Turks are Turks of
comprehended under the general denomination of Adarbaijani scuthera
Turks; they are nomads or aemi-nomads and speak a peculiar Persia.
Turkish dialect, the Turk Azeri or Adarbaijani Turkish. Some
specimens of it have been published by Chodzko, BergcS, Melgunoff,
and B^rbier do Meynard. In the southern provinces of Persia aie
settled the (5) Kashkais, (6) Abul-werdis, (7) Kara-Gozlus, (8)
Bahar-lu, and (9) Inan-lu. To tho first named are reckoned by somo
the Khalaches,' an old Turkish tribe which was already settled near
Herat before the Seljukian period and has given rise to some Indian
dynasties. Vamb(5ry thinks that the total number of Iranian
Turks may amount to about two millions, or, if wo add the Caucasian
Turks under Russian supremacy, three millions.' (VII), The Osman-
Osmanlis, under which term are comprehended all the Turkish sub- lis.
jecta of the sultan of Turkey, consist chiefly of the following elements.
(1) Turkmanian tribes and Turks of every description, who poured
into Asia Minor after the defeat of Romanus Diogenes (1071) ; to
these we may also reckon the Ottomans proper, though they did not
enter the country till after the downfall of the Kharizniiau empire.
The Mongolian invasion drove the obscure ancestors of this the
most illustrious Turkish dynasty to Asia Minor, whence they
gradually spread to the province of Khodawendikyar (Bithynia).
(2) Tatars scattered amongst the rest of the population, but forming
a large colony in the Dobrudja. In part they occupied their present
settlements before the conquest of Constantinople ; but others haie
immigrated into Asia Minor during the last two centuries from the
Crimea and Caucasus, since the Russian conquests of those region''.
They have fared very badly under Turkish rule, as is attested by
Captain \Vi' on. That tribes of Turkisli origin were settled in
Europe long before the rise of .the Ottoman poiver in known from
the Byzantine authors, who mention a colony of them (about 30,000)
as early as the 10th century in the Vardar valley in Macedonia.'
(3) The so-called Kizil-bashis or "Red Heads," a nickname of the
Shi'itic Turkish immigiants from Persia, who are found chiefly in
the plains from Kara-hissar along Tokat and Amasia to Angora.
During the wars with Persia the Turkish sultans forced them to
settle here. They are agriculturists and highly praised by several
travellers for their honesty and laborious habits. (4) Turkmenian
tribes — Yuruks and Gotchebes (words meaning "nomads" a:id
characteristic of their most distinctive quality), — who occupy tho
mountains in summer and descend into the plains in winter, though
some are settled iu the plains of Cilicia near Tarsus and Adana, the
rest being semi-nomads. Reclus estimates the total number of
Turks in Europe at 1(500,000 and 35,000 Tatars. For Asia Minor
statistics are wanting ; but P. de Tchihatchef, the chief authority
for matters relating to this peninsula, thinks that 6,000,000 is a fair
estimate for tho total population, including Greeks, Armenians.
Kurds, &c., but excluding the islands. It appears therefore neces
sary to reduce the already moderate number of Osmanlis given bv
Vambery (10,000,000) to about 6,000,000.
Lanouage.
The Turkish, or, as some prefer to say, the Turco-Tatar language Ui.iletii
is a member of the Ural Altaic family (see Ural-Altaic) ami cal van.
comprehends many dialects, which difl'er considerably in their tie*.
vocabulary and in a less degree also in their grammar. The study
of these dialects has made great advances during the IPth cen-
tury. Abel Remusat in 1820 knew only of four, viz., the bigurian,
Jagatai,Tatar. and Osmanli. Biresine in 1848 distinguished nine-
teen, grouped round three types, vizi, (1) Jagatai dialects (Uigur,
Coman, Jagatai, Uzbegian, Turkmani, Kazani literary language); (2)
Tatar dialects (Kirghizian, 3ashkiri, Nogai, Kumi, Karatchai, Kara'
Kalpaki, Meshtcheryaki, and Siberian); (3) Turki dialects (Derbendi,
Adarbaijani. Krimmi, Anadoli,and Kumili). Bbbtlingk (1?51) added
the Yaknti, and Shaw (1877) the Eastern TurkL RadlofI (18S2)
subdivided the one Siberian dialect of Beresino into more than a
dozen different dialects On phonetic principles the last-named
proposes the following classification, which seems, however, not
quite satisfactory : (1) Oriental dialects(Altai, Baraba, Lebed, Tuba,
Abakan, Kuarik, Soyon, Karagass dialects, and Uigur) ; (2) Occi-
dental (Kirghizi, Irtish, Bashkir, and Volga dialects, with numerous
subdivisions); (5) Central-Asiatic (Taranji, Jagatai, &o.) ; and (4)
southern (Turkmani, Adarbaijiini, Caucasian, Anadoli, Krimmi, and
Osmanli). It would bo premature to criticise this system till the
author publishes the second part of his grammar, which will treat
of the real etymological phenomena of the north Turkish dialects
« Cp. the Tabakdt i^Sdsiri, by Major Raveity, p. 653 tq., where the name'iH
incorrectly written Khat).
' Cp. Lady Shell. GlimpscB of Life and Mannrri in Persia (London. 1&56), aa<l
various articles by Von Scldlitz in the Rutsi^e Revue, &c
a Cp- U^ean, " Etlmograpbie dcr EuropaJschCD TUlkel," la fetermk. Sradrv -
Beft 4 (isai), p. SS.
662
T U R — T U R
On the phonetioal characteristics of each of these dialects ample
information is given in his PhoncUk der nordlichcn Turk. Spracheth
, These great dialectical varieties are easily accounted for by the
want of a common Turkish literary langua^'e understood every-
where. The most developed and refined Turkish tongue, that of
the Osmanlis, which 's very rich in literary monuments, has
admitted too many Arabic and Persian words, grammatical forms,
and even whole sentences, and has been too much spoiled by the
precepts of Persian rhetoric, to produce a popular literature. With
the exception of some tales and novels, this literature has remained
an exotic production, unintelligible even to the people who are snp-
Jiused to speak the same language (see Tutikev, p. 656 above). The
lagatal and Uzbegian dialects would have answered the purpose
better, and present the best type of a (hypothetical) general
Turkish language, of which the most prominent features may
be here given.
AJj'Iia- The Arabic alphabet is in general use, though some tribes in
bet Russia, make use of Russian and others in Asia Minor of Armenian
and Greek characters. But the oldest Turkish alphabet, the
Uigurian, is a direct triinsformation of the Syriac, and has fourteen
characters. When and by whom it was invented is uncertain ;
the Arabic author of the Fihrist does not mention it, and the
Uigurian MSS. which we possess date for the most part from the
15th century. It is commonly supposed to be the work of Nestorian
missionaries, who may have preached the Gospel amongst the Turks
as early as the 6th or 7th century.' In the age of Sinjibu the Turks
seem to have used the Bogilian characters ia thtir politicnl inter-
course with Byzantium ; but as a rule they remained illiterate till
their conversion to Islam. As the Semitic languages are charac*
teiizcd by the tliree-radical system and the constancy of the con-
sonants, all Ural-Altaic languages are dominated by the law of vowel
harmony and agglutination. We have therefore in Turkish a double
mnge of vowel^i- commonly eight in number, of which a, 7, o, u
denote the har^ or guttural and ft, i, o, ii the soft or palatal vowels,
the vowels in every separate word being of the same r;inge. The
i only is in most dialects indifferent. The law of agglutination is
derived from the same principle, but h:is regard, noc only to the
vowels, but also to the consonants and the syllables ; it is an abuse
of the term if it is taken to mean that in Turkish no real etymology
exists, but only an agglutination of themes and roots.
Et}-- As regards the etymology we observe the absoiice of gender, of
raology. a separate form for the dual, and of the nominative in tne nouns.
There are commonly five oblique cases— genitive, dative, accusa-
tive, commorative, and ablative — thoU£,'h Bohtlingk has shown that
in the Yakut dialect, which distinguislies ten cases, the genitive is
wanting. The adjective, unless used as substantive, is uninilected
both as attribute and as predicate ; the comparative is formed by
the suffix -raA:(-rei), and takes the compared noun in the ablative ;
tiie superlative has no specific form, though a peculiar intensive
is formed by prefixing to the adjective (though in writing always
as two words) a syllable beginning with the same consonant, and
ending in a labial /j or m: for instance, ^a^Arara, "intensely black" ;
kip kizil, "intensely red." The decimal system has prevailed over
an original septimal system. The article does not exist. The
relative pronoun has been borrowed from the Persian in many
dialects ; it is absent in the original Turkish. The theme of the
verb is seen in the imperative, from which are derived various
particii>les and gerunds, used either separately or combined with
pronominal suffixes. These combina,tions supply the forms of the
simple tenses and moods, thongh different dialects use different forms
of participle and geruud for this purpose. CJompound tenses aod
moods are expressed by means of auxiliary verbs. The theme of
the imperative triay, by the addition of a simple consonant, vowel,
or syllable, be modified into a negative, passive, reflexive, reciprocal,
impossible, causative, or doubly causative form, which are con-
jugated in the same manner as the original form. The causative
forms again admit of a passive negative, &c., so that in fact the
number of possible verbal forms derived from a single theme has
been calculated by Shaw at 29,000. There are no prepositions, only
postpositions.
Sjntas. In syntax the order of the words and clauses of a period is
almost the inverse of what seems natural to us, the subject and
ita predicate being placed at the end, while all hypothetical, causal,
pronibitive, — in short all subordinate — clauses come first. In the
simple style of illiterate peasants, and in popular romances and
tales, this method presents no inconvenience as regards easy under-
•tanding, but in the artificial, often excessively long periods of an
Osmanli stylist, it presents serious difficulties to a European reader.
BMiographji.—{a) General works on the history and ethnopraphy of the
Turka: Deguignes, Histoire des Huns; Vambery, Das Tiirkenvolk (Leipsic,
1886), Urspning dcr Magya re n (heipsic, 1882). and several other publications;
lUdloff, AiiS Sihirien (Leipsic, 1884); W. Griporieff, Zemlcii'je(fjenie K. HiUcra
Wostotsckni Hi K-itaiski Tnrlestan; Neumann, Die Volker da siidlichen RussUxnd
(Ulpaic. 1847). We may add the historians of the Mongols— D'Ohsson,
Uoworth, and others— the numerous journals of travcllors amonpst Turkish
|>eoples. and several articles in the liussische licime, Journal o/ the Royal Asialic
* For details about the spread of Christianity amongst the Turks,
•ee Yule, Cathay and the Way thUher, i. 90-100.
Soc, &c. A full biblingrapliy of woil;'; relr.tms to Central Asia may be fotind
in V. J. Mejoff, Kecueil 'i/u, Turkestan (6t Petersburg, 1S78-S4), and a usefi-1 ex-
cerpt at the end of vol. ii. of Lansdell's Russian Central Asia, Other works
liave already been cited in the course of this article.
(6) For ttte study of Turkish dialects the -subjoined books may be nsrJ. (1)
Osm/in'-i : the grammars and dictionarks of iledhouse, Mallouf, Zenker, iiirbier
dc Meynard, &:c. {2) Uigur: the works cf Klaproth ; Abel Remusat R£'-'ier<Ae»
sur la Lawjues Tartares (Paris, 1S20) ; and Vambery. Uigurische Sprad :cnU'
menfc und du3 KvdfUku BiUk (Innsbruck, 1870). (3) Jagatai : the dictic iry of
Pavet de Courteille, and Varaltery, Jagataischt Sprachstudien (Leipsic, "■ - .7). (4)
Eastern Turki : Shaw's grammar and vocabulary (Jour. Roy. As. Soc. jj Bengal,
1S77). (5) Tatar dialects: the grammars of Kasimbeg-Zenker (Lc^iisic, 1848),
Ilminski (Kazan, 1869), and Radloff (Leipsic, ISS'-'); Dictionary of Trojanslci
(Kazan, 1633); tbe cbrestomathies of Bertsine (Kazan, 1857), lerenticlT, and
specially RadlolT", Probcn der Volkslit^ratur der tiLrkischen Stavizte SUd'SibirienB
(St Petersburg, 1872). And (6) Ya^zvti : Bohtlingk, Die Sprache der Jakutcn (St
Petersburg, 1851). (IL T. H.)
TURMERIC, the tuberous root of Curcuma longa, L.,
an herbaceous perennial plant belonging to the natural
order Zinglberacese. It is a native of southern Asia, being
cultivated on a large scale both on the mainland and
in the islands of the Indian Ocean. Turmeric has been
used from a remote period both as a condiment and as a
dye stuff, and to a more limited extent as a medicine. In
Europe it is employed chiefly as a dye, also as an ingre-
dient in curry powder and as a chemical test for alkalies.
The root is prepared by cleaning it and drying it in an oven
There are several varieties (Madras, Bengal, Gopalpur,
Java, China, and Cochin turmeric), differing chiefly in size
and colour and to a slight degree in flavour. Some of
these consist exclusively of the ovate central tubers, tech-
nically known as "bulbs," and others of the somewhat
cylindrical lateral tubers, which are distinguished in trade
as " fingers." Both are hard and tough, but break with a
short resinous or waxy fracture, which varies in tint from
an orange brown to a deep reddish brown.
Turmeric has a characteristic odour and an aromatic taste. The
aroraa it owes to a complex essential oil, which consists princi-
pally of an alcohol called iurmerol (formula CjaHjsO), which differs
from carvol in being unable to combine \vith nydrogen sulphide ;
the other constituents of the oil have not been determined. The
colour ia due to curcumin, Cj4Hi40^ of which the drug contains
aboat 0"3 per cent. If possesses the properties of an acid, forming
red-brown salts with alkalies and being precipitated from alkaline
solutions by acids. When pure it forms yelJow crystals having a
vauilla odour and exhibiting a fine blue colour in reflected lignt.
It is soluble in alcohol, in chloroform, and in alkaline solutions,
but only sparingly in water. Paper tinged with a tincture of tur-
meric exhibits on the addition of an alkali a reddish brown tint,
which becomes violet on drying. This peculiarity was pointed out
by Vogel in 1815, and since that date turmeric has been utilized
as a chemical test for detecting alkalinity. In India the drug is
considered to possess cordial and stomachic properties : a decoction
made with milk and sweetened is used as a remedy for colds.
Externally it is employed in skin diseases and in the form of a
cooling lotion for relieving the pain of conjunctivitis ; the fumes
of the burning tubers directed into the nostrils relieve congestion
in cases of coryza. The cultivation of turmerio is carried on most
successfuDy in light rich soil in well-watered districts. The plant
is easily propagated by offsets. An acre yields about 20()0 ft.
Turmeric is said to grow in large quantities on the slopes of bills
bordering the plains of the Beni in Bolivia and also in Panama.
Several species of Ciitcuina and cf allied genera yield yellowish
aromatic roots. In Sierra Leone a kind of turmeric is obtained
from a species of Canna.
TURNER, Charles (1773-1857), an English engraver,
was bom at Woodstock in 1773. He entered the schools
of the Royal Academy in 1795 ; and, engraving in stipple
in the manner of Bartolozzi, he was employed by Alderman
Boydell. His finest plates, however, are in mezzotint, a
method in which he engraved J. M. W. Turner's Wreck
and twenty-four subjects of his Liher StudioT^m, Reynolds's
Marlborough Family, and many of Raeburn's best portraits,
including those of "Sir Walter Scott, Lord Newton, Dr
Hamilton, Profs. Dugald Stewart and John Robison, and
Dr Adam. He also worked after Lawrence, Shee, and
Owen. He was an admirable engraver, large, broad, and
masterly in touch ; and he reproduced with great fidelity
the characteristics of the various painters whose works he
translated into black and white. In 1828 he was elected
an associate engraver of the Royal Academy. He diedin
London on 1st August 1857.
TURNER
663
TURNER, Joseph Ma'.lord William (1775-1S51),
one of the greatest painters of the English school, was born
in London on 23d April 1775 His father, William Turner,
a native of Devonshire, kept a barber's shop at 26 Maiden
Lane, in the parish of St Paul's, Covent Garden ; he was
"a cheerful, talkative little man, with small blue eyes,
a parrot nose, projecting chin, and a fresh complexion
indicative of health." Of the painter's mother, Mary
>!arshall or Turner, little is known ; she is said to have
been a person of ungovernable temper and towards the end
of her life became insane. Apparently the home in which
Turner spent his childhood was not a happy one, and this
may account for much that was unsociable and eccentric in
his character. The earliest known drawing by Turner, a
view of Margate Church, dates from his ninth year. It
was also about this time that he was sent to his first school
ai X^w Brentford. Of education, as the term is generally
undersfcod, he received but little. His father taught him
to read, and this and a few months at New Brentford and
afterwards at Margate were all the schooling he ever had ;
he never mastered his native tongue, nor was he able in after
life to learn any foreign language. Notwithstanding this
lack of scholarship, one of his strongest characteristics was
a taste for associating his works with personages and places
of legendary and historical interest, and certain stories of
antiquity seem to have taken root in his mind very strongly.
By the time Tutner had completed his thirteenth year his
school days were over and his choice of an artbt's career
settled. In 1788-89 he was receiving lessons from Palice,
"a floral drawing master," from T. Malton, a perspective
draughtsman, and from Hardwick, an architect. He also
attended Paul Saodby's drawing school in St Martin's
Lane. Part of his time was employed in making drawings
at home, which he exhibited for sale in his father's shop
window, two or three shillings being the usual price. He
coloured prints for engravers, washed in backgrounds for
architects, went out sketching with Girtin, and made draw-
ings in the evenings for Dr Munro " for half a crown and
his supper '' When pitied in after life for the miscellaneous
character of his early work, his reply was "Well ! and what
could be better practice! " In 1789 Turner became a
student of the Royal Academy. He also worked for a short
time in the house cf Sir Joshua Reynolds, with the idea,
apparently, of becoming a portrait painter ; but, the death
of Reynolds occurring shortly afterwards, this intention
was abandoned. In 1790 Turner's name appears for the
first time in the catalogue of the Royal Academy, the title
■of his solitary contribution being " View of the Arch-
bishop's Palace, Lambeth." About 1792 he received a
commission from Walker, the engraver, to make drawings
for his Copper-Plate Magazine, and this topographical work
took him to many interesting places. The natural vigour
of his constitution enabled him to cover much of the ground
on foot. He could walk from 20 to 25 miles a day with
ease, his baggage at the end r.f a stick, making notes and
memoranda as he went. He rose early, worked hard all
day, wasted no tuae over his simple meals, and his homely
way of living made him easily contented with such rude
accommodation as Le chanced to find on the road. A year
or two after he accepted a similar commission to make
drawings for the Pocket Magazine, and before his twentieth
year he had travelled over many parts of England and
Wales. None of these magazine drawings are remarkable
for originality of treatment or for artistic feeling.
Up to this time Turner had worked in the back room
above his father's shop. His love of secretiveness and
solitude had already begun to show itself. Aji architect
who often employed him to put in backgrouiids to his
drawings says, "he would never suffer me to see him
draw, but concealed all that he did in his bed-room."
On another occasion, a visitor entering unannounced.
Turner instantly covered up his drawings, and, in reply to
the intimation, " I've come to see the drawings for ,"
the answer was, " You shan't see 'em, and mind that next
time you come through the shop, and not up the back
way." Probably the increase in the number of his engage-
ments induced Turner about this time to set up a studio
for himself in Hand Court, not far from his father's shop,
and there he continued to work till he was elected an
associate of the Royal Academy (1799).
Until 1792 Turner's practice had been almost exclusively
confined to water colours, and his early works show how
much he was indebted to some of his contemporaries.
There are few of any note whose style he did not copy
or adopt. His first exhibited oil picture appeared in the
Academy in 1793. In 1794-95 Canterbury Cathedral,
Malvern Abbey, Tintem Abbey, Lincoln and Peterborough
Cathedrals, Shrewsbury, and King's College Chapel, Cam-
bridge, were among the subjects exhibited, and during the
nest four years he contributed no less than thirty -nine
works to the Academy. In the catalogue of 1798 he first
began to add poetic quotations to the titles of his pictures ;
one of the very first of these — a passage from Milton's
Paradise Lost — is in some respects curiously prophetic of
one of the future characteristics of his art.
" Ve raista aod exhalatioca that now rise
From hill or steaming lake, dusky or grey
Till the 8un paiuts your fleecy skirts with gold,
In honour of the world's great author rise.
This and several other quotations in the following
years show that Turner's mind was now occupied with
something more than the merely topographical element of
landscape, Milton's Paradise Lost and Thomson's Seasons
being laid under frequent contribution for descriptions of
sunrise, sunset, twilight, or thunderstorm. Turner's first
visit to Yorkshire took place in 1797 It seemS to have
braced his powers and possibly helped to change the student
into the painter. Until then his work had shown very
little of the artist in the higher sense of the term : he
was little more than a painstaking and tolerably accurate
topographer, but even under these conditions he had begun
to attract the notice of his brother artists and of the critics.
England was, at the time, at a low point both in literature
and art. Among the artists De Loutherbourg and Morland
were almost the only men of note left. Hogarth, Wilson,
Gainsborough, and Reynolds had passed away. Beechey,
Bourgeois, Garvey, Farington — names well-nigh forgotten
now — were the Academicians who painted landscape. The
only formidable rivals Turner had to contend with were
De Loutherbourg and Girtin, and after the death of the
latter in 1802 he was left undisputed master of the field.
It is not therefore surprising that the exhibition of his
works in 1798 was followed by his election to the associ
ateship of the Royal Academy. That he should have
attained to this position before completing his twenty-
fourth year says much for the wisdom and discernment of
that body, which further showed its recognition of his
talent by electing him an Academician four years later.
Turner owed much to the Academy. Mr Ruskm says, " It
taught him nothing." Possibly it had little to teach that
he had not already been able to learn for himself ; at all
events it was quick to see his genius and to confer its
honours, and 'Turner, naturally generous and grateful,
never forgot this. He enjoyed the dignity of Academician
for nearly half a century, and during nearly the whole of
that period he took an active share in the direction of the
Academy's aflPairs. His speeches are described as "con-
fused, tedious, obscure, and jxtremely difficult to follow";
but at council meetings he was ever anxious to allay anger
aud bitter controversy. His opinions on art were always
664
TURNER
listened to with respect ; but on matters of business it was
often difficult to know what he meant. His friend
Chantrey used to say, " He has g-.eat thoughts, if only he
could express them." When appointed professor of per-
spective to the Royal Academy in 1808, this painful lack
of expression stood greatly in the way of his usefulness :
he -vas often at a loss for words to express his ideas, and
when he had recourse to his notes he found difficulty in
reading them. Mr Ruskin says, " The zealous care with
which Turner endeavoured to do his duty is proved by
a series of large drawings, exquisitely tinted, and often
completely coloured, all by his own hand, of the most
difficult perspective subjects, illustrating not only directions
of line, but effects of light, with a care and completion
which would put the work of any ordinary teacher to utter
shame." In teaching he would neither waste time nor
spare it. " If a student would take a hint, Turner was
delighted and would go on with him giving hint after
hint ; it he could not follow, he left him. Explanations
are wasted time ; a man who can see understands a touch ;
a man who cannot misunderstands an oration." With his
election to the associateship of the Academy in 1799,
Turner's early struggles may be considered to have ended.
He had emancipated himself from hack work, had given
up making topographical dravrings of castles and abbeys
for the engravers — drawings in which mere local fidelity
was the principal object — and had taken to composing as
he drew. Local facts had become of secondary importance
compared with effects of light and colour. He had reached
manhood, and with it he abandoned topographical fidelity
and began to paint his dreams, the visionary faculty —
the true foundation of his art — asserting itself, nature
being used to supply suggestions and materials.
His pictures of 1797-99 had shown that he was a painter
of no ordinary power, one having much of the poet in Lim,
and able to give expression to the mystery, beauty, and
inexhaustible fulness of nature. His work at this period
is described by Mr Ruskin as "stern in manner, reserved,
quiet, grave in colour, forceful in hand."
Turner's visit to Yorkshire in 1797 was followed a year
or two later by a second, and it was on this occasion that
he made the acquaintance, which afterwards ripened into
a long and staunch friendship, of Fawkes of Farnley Hall.
From 1803 till 1820 Turner was a frequent visitor at
Farnley. The large number of his drawings still preserved
there — English, Swiss, German, and Italian, the studies
of rooms, outhouses, porches, gateways, of birds shot
while he was there, and of old places in the neighbour-
hood— prove the frequency of his visits and his affection
for the place and fo; its hospitable master. A caricature,
made by Fawkes, and " thought by old fr' ids to be very
like," shows Turner as "a little Jewish -nosed man, in an
ill -cut brown tail-coat, striped waistcoat, and enormous
frilled shirt, with feet and hands notably small, sketching
on a small piece of paper, held down almost level with his
waist." It is evident from all the accounts given that
Turner's personal appearance was not of a kind to com-
mand much attention or respect. This may have pained
his sensitive nature, and led him to seek refuge in the
solitude of his painting room Had he been inclined he
had abundant opportunity for social and friendly intercourse
with his fellow-men, but hf "gradually came to live more
and more in a state of mental isolation, keeping himself to
himself, entirely absorbed in his art. "This man must
be loved for hi? vorks, for his person is not striking nor
his conversation brilliant," is the testimony of Dayes, the
water-colour painter (a-.d Girtin's master), in 1804. Turner
could never ni^ke up his mind to visit Farnley again after
his old friend ■< death, and his voice would falter when he
spoke of the shores of the Wharfe.
Turner visited Scotland in 1800, and in 1801 or 1802 he
made his first tour on the Continent. In the following
year, of the seven pictures he exhibited six were of foreign
subjects, among them Bonneville, the Festival upon the
Opening of the Vintage of Macon, and the well-known
Calais Pier in the National Gallery. The last-named
picture, although heavily painted and somewhat opaque
in colour, is magnificently composed and full of energy.
A better idea of its masterly composition can be formed
from Mr Seymotu: Haden'a vigorous etching than from
the picture itself, which is now greatly darkened by time.
In 1802, the year in which Turner became a Royal
Academician, he took his old father, who still carried on
the barber business in Maiden Lane, to live with him.
The powder tax, imposed in 1795, drove out wigs and
spoiled the old man's trade. " It is precisely," says Mr
Hamerton, "when the painter wins the full honours- of the
Academy — honours which give a recognized and envied
position in London society — that he takes his father home ;
a meaner nature would have tried to keep the old man at
a safe distance." Turner's relations with his father were
of the most dutiful and filial kind to the last.'
In 1804 Turner made a second tour on the Continent,
and in the following year painted the Shipwreck and
Fishing Boats in a Squall (in the Ellesmere collection),
seemingly in direct rivalry of Vandervelde, in 1806 the
Goddess of Discord in the Garden of the Hesperides (in
rivalry of Poussin), and in 1807 the Sun rising through
Vapour (in rivalry of Claude).^ The last two are notable
works, especially the Sun. In after years it was one of
the works he left to the nation, on the special condition of
its being hung beside the Claudes in the National Gallery.
In this same year (1807) Turner commenced his most
serious rivalry. Possibly it arose out of a desire to break
down Claude worship, the then prevailing fashion, and
to show the public that there was a living artist not un-
worthy of taking rank beside him. That the Liber Studi-
orum was suggested by the Liber Veritatis of Claude, and
was intended as a direct challenge to that master, is be-
yond doubt. There is, however, a certain degree of un-
fairness to Claude in the way in which the challenge was
given. Claude made drawings in brown of his pictures aa
they left the easel, not for publication, but merely to serve
as private memoranda. Turner's Liber drawings had no
such purpose, but were intended as a direct appeal to the
public to judge between the two artists. The first of the
Liber drawings were made in the autumn of 1806, the
others at intervals till about 1815. They are of the same
size as the plates and carefully finished in sepia. About
fifty of them are now to be seen in the Turner rooms of
the National Gallery. The issue of the Liber began in
1807 and continued at irregular intervals til! 1819, when
it stopped at the fourteenth number. Turner had resolved
to manage the publishing business himself, but in this he
* Turner's father died io 1830, and the loss of " poor old Dad," as he
used to call him, left a terrible void He had lived in his son's hoase
for nearly thirty years, looking after the frugal affairs of his household,
and making himself useful in various ways. It is said that he used t«
prepare and strain his son's canvases and varnish them when finished,
which may explain a saying of Turner's that "his father used to
begin and finish his pictures for him." He also attended to the
gallery in Queen Anne Street, showed in visiters, and took care of the
dinner, if he did not himself cook it. Turner was never the same
maj after his father's death, living a life of almost complete isolation.
^"This spirit of rivalry showed itself early in his career. He began
by pitting himself against his contemporaries, and afterwards, when
his powers were more fully developed, against some of the old masters,
notably Vandervelde and Claude. During these years, while he kept
up a constant rivalry with artists living and dead, he was continuing
his unresting and untiring study of nature, and, while seemingly a
mere follower of the ancients, was accumulating that immense store of
knowledge which in after years, when his true genius asserted itself,
he was to use to sach purpose.
TURNER
665
was not very snccessfuL He soon quarrelled witli his
engraver, F. C. Lewis, on the ground that he had raised
his charges from five guineas b, plate to eight. He then
employed Charles Turner, who agreed to do fifty plates at
the latter sum, but, after finishing twenty, he too wished
to raise his price, and, as a matter of course, this led to
another quarrel. Reynolds, Dunkarton, Lupton, Say,
Dawe, and other engravers were afterwards employed —
Turner himself etching and mezzotinting some of the
plates. Each part of the Liber contained five plates, the
subjects, divided into " historical," " pastoral," " marine,"
4c., embracing the whole range of landscape art. Seventy-
one plates in all were published (including one as a gift of
the artist to his subscribers) ; ten other plates — more or
less completed — intended for the fifteenth and sixteenth
numbers were never published, the work being stopped for
want of encouragement. Absence of method and business
habits may account for this. Turner is said to have
got up the numbers in his own house with the help of a
female servant. The plates, which cost the subscribers
only five shillings apiece, were so little esteemed that in
the early quarter of the 19th century they were sometimes
used for lighting fires. So much has fashion, or public
taste, changed since then that a fine proof of a single
plate has soldfor £210. The merit of the plates is. un-
equal ; some — for example, Solway Moss, -Inverary Ker,
Hind Head HiU, Ben Arthur, Rizpah, Junction of the
Severn and Wye, and Peat Bog — are of great beauty,
while a few are comparatively tame and uninteresting.
Among the unpublished plates Stonehenge at Daybreak
and Sheep Washing, Windsor Castle take a high place.
The Liber shows strong traces of the influence of Cozens
and Girtin, and, as a matter of course, of Claude. In most
of the designs the predominant feeling is serious; in not a
few, gloomy, or even tragic. A good deal has been written
about Turner's intention, and the " lessons " of the Liter
Siudiorum. Probably his only intention in the beginning
was to show what he could do, to display his art, to rival
Claude, perhaps to educate public taste, and at the same
time make money. If lessons were intended they might
have been better conveyed by words. " Silent always with
a bitter silence, disdaining to tell his meaning," — such is
Mr Ruskin's explanation ; but surely Turner had little
reason for either silence or contempt because the public
failed to see in landscape art the means of teaching it great
moral lessons. The seventy plates of the Liber contain an
almost complete epitome of Turner's art. Already in this
work are seen strong indications of one of his most remark-
able characteristics — a knowledge of the principles of struc-
turein natural objects: mountains and rocks are drawn, not
with topographical accuracy, but with what appears like an
intuitive feeling for geological formation ; and trees have
also the same expression of life and growth in the drawing
of stems and branches. This instinctive feeling in Turner
for the priifciples of organic structure is treated of at con-
siderable length in the fourth volume of Modem Painters,
and Turner is there contrasted with Claude, Poussin, and
some of the Dutch masters, greatly to their disadvantage.
After 1797 Turner was little concerned with mere topo-
graphical facts : his pictures might be like the places re-
presented or not; much depended on the mental impression
produced by the scene. He preferred to deal with the
spirit, rather than with the local details of places. A curi-
ous example of the reasonableness accompanying his exer-
cise of the imaginative faculty is to be found in iis crea-
tions of creatures he had never seen, as, for example, the
dragon'' in the Garden of the Hesperides and the python
^ "The strange unity of vertebrated action and of a true bony con-
tour, infinitely varied in every vertebra, with this glacial outline,
together with the adootion of the head of the Ganges crocodile, the
23—24*
in the Apollo, exhibited in 1811. Both these monsters
are imagined with such vividness and reality, and the
sense of power and movement is so completely expressed,
that the spectator never once thinks of them as otherwise
than representations of actual facts in natural history. It
needs but a little comparison to discover how far "Turner
surpassed all his contemporaries, as well as all who pre-
ceded him, in these respects. The imaginative faculty he
possessed was of the highest order, and it was further
aided by a memory of the most retentive and unerring
kind. A good illustration of this may be seen at Farnley
Hall in a drawing of a Man-of-War taking in Stores.
Some one, who had never seen a first-rate, expressed a wish
to know what it looked like. Turner took a blank sheet
of paper one morning after breakfast, outlined the ship,
and finished the drawing in three hours, Fawkes sitting
beside him from the first stroke to the last. The size of
this drawing is about 16 in. by 11 in. Mr Ruskin thus
describes it i
" The hull of a first-rate occupies nearly one half of the picture
to the right, her bows toward the spectator, seen in sharp per-
spective frorn stem to stern, with all her port-holes, guns, anchors,
and lower rigging elaborately detailed, two other ships of the line
in the middle distance drawn with equal precision, a noble breezy
sea, full of delicate drawing in its waves, a store ship beneath the
hull of the larger vessel and several other boats, and a complicated
cloudy sky, all drawn from memory, down to the smallest rope, in
a drawing-room of a mansion in the middle of Yorkshire."
About the year 1811 Turner paid his first visit to
Devonshire, the county to which his family belonged,
and a curious glimpse of his simple manner of life is given
by Redding, who accompanied him on some of his ex-
cursions. On one occasion they spent a night together
in a small road-side inn. Turner having a great desire to
see the country around at sunrise.
' ' Turner was content with bread and cheese and beer, tolerably
good, for dinner and supper in one. In the little sanded room wo
conversed by the light of an attenuated candle and some aid from
the moon until nearly midnight, when Turner laid his head upon
the table and was soon fast asleep. Three or four hours rest was
thus obtained, and we went out as soon as the sun was up to ex-
plore the surrounding neighbourhood. It was in that early morning
Turner made a sketch of the picture Crossing the Brook." lu
another excursion to Borough Island, "the morning was squally
and the sea rolled boisterously into the Sound. Off Stakes Point
it became stormy ; our Dutch boat rode bravely over the furrows.
Two of the party were ill. Turner was all the while quiet, watch-
ing the troubled scene. Bolt Head, to seaward, against which the
waves broke with fury, seemed to absorb his entire notice, and he
scarcely spoke a syllable. While the fish were getting ready Turner
mounted nearly to the highest poijit of the island rock, and seemed
■writing rather than drawuig. The wind was almost too violent
for either purpose. "
This and similar incidents show how careless of comfort
Turner was, and how devoted to his art. The tumult and
discomfort by which he was surrounded could not distract
his powers of observation , and some thirty years later
there is still evidence of the same kind. In the catalogue
of the exhibition of 1842 one of his pictures bears the
following title, "Snow-Storm: steamboat oflf a harbour's
mouth making signals in shallow water, and going by the
lead. The author was in that storm the night the 'Ariel '
left Harwich."
From 1813 till 1826, in addition to his Harley Street
residence, Turner had a country house at Twickenham.
He kept a boat on the river, also a pony and gig, in which
he uFed to drive about the neighbouring country on sketch-
ing expeditions. The pony, for which Turner had a great
love, appt .rs in his well-known Frosty Morning in the
National Gallery. He appe-ii's t<> have had a great affec-
fish -eater, to show his sea descent (and this in the year 1806, whe»
h.irdly a single fossil saurian skeleton existed within Turner's reach),
renders the whole conception one of the most curious exertions of tba^
imaginative intellect with which I am acqu.iin'.ed iu the arts " (Ruskin,^
Mo ' ^-I'^rs, voL V. p. 313).
666
TURNER
tion for animaU, and one instance of his tenderness of
heart is given by one who often joined him in the amuse-
ment of fishing, of which Turner was very fond. " I was
often with him when fishing at Petworth, and also on the
banks of the Thames. His success as an angler was great,
although with the worst tackle in the world. Every fish
he caught he showed to me, and appealed to me to decide
whether the size justified him to keep it for the table or
to return it to the river ; his hesitation was often almost
touching, and he always gave the prisoner at the bar the
benefit of the doubt."
In 1813 Turner commenced the series of drawings, forty
in number, for Choke's Southern Coast. This work was
not completed till 1826 The price he at first received
for these drawings was £7, 10s. each, afterwards raised
to £13, 2s. 6d.
Crossing the Brook appeared in the Academy of 1815.
It may be regarded as a t3fpical example of Turner's art
at this period, and marks the transition from his earlier
style to that of his maturity It represents a piece of
Devonshire scenery, a view on the river Tamar. On the
left is a group of tall pine-trees, beautifully designed and
drawn with great skill and knowledge of structure, in the
foreground a couple of children, with a dog carrying a
bundle in its mouth across the brook, and beyond, a vast
expanse of richly ■ wooded country, with glimpses of a
winding river, an old bridge, a mill, and other buildings,
and, in the far distance, the sea. Both in design and exe-
cution this work is founded upon Claude Some critics
consider it one of Turner's greatest works , but this is
open to question.' It can hardly be called a work in full
colour . it is limited to greys and quiet greens for the
earth and pale blues for the sky It is a sober but very
admirable picture, full of diffused daylight, and in the
painting of its distance better than any master who had
preceded him. The fascination of the remote, afterwards
so distinctive an element in Turner's pictures, shows itself
here. Perhaps nothing tests the powers or tries the skill
of the landscape-painter more severely than the representa-
tion of distant effects. They come and go so rapidly, are
often in a high key of light and colour, and so full of
mystery and delicacy, that anything approaching to real
imitation is impossible. Only the most retentive memory
and the most sensitive and tender feehng will avail
These qualities Turner possessed to a remarkable degree,
and as his powers matured there was an ever-increasing
tendency in his art to desert the foreground, where things
were definite and clear,- iti order to dream in the infinite
suggestiveness and space of distances. Dido Building
Carthage also belongs to this period. It hangs beside the
Claudes in the National Gallery. It pertains to the old
erroneous school of historical painting. Towering masses
of Claudesque architecture piled up on either side, porticoes,
vestibules, and stone pines, with the sun in a yellow sky,
represent the Carthage of Turner's imagination. With
all its faults it is still the finest work of the class he ever
painted. Carthage and its fate had a strange fascination
for him. It is said that he regarded it as a moral example
to England in its agricultural decline, its increase of luxury,
and its blindness to the insatiable ambition of a powerful
rival. He returned again to this theme in 1817, when he
exhibited his Decline of the Carthaginian Empire Hostr
ages Leaving Carthage for Rome, — a picture which Mr
Piuskin describes as " little more than an accumulation of
academy student's outlines coloured brown."
In 1818 Turner was in Scotland making drawings for
* Crossing the Brook was a great favourite with Tuiiier. It was
painted for a patron, who, dissatisfied with it, left it on the painter's
iiinda. The price asked (£500) seems to have been part of the objec
tiou. Turoer sabsequeatly refused an offer of £1600 for it.
the Provincial Antiquities for which Sir Walter Scott
supplied the letterpress, and in 1819 he visited Italy fo«
the first time. One of the restilts of this visit was a great
change in his style, and from this time his works becama
remarkable for their colour. Hitherto he had painted in
browns, greys, and blues, using red 'and yellow sparingly.
He had gradually been advancing from the , sober grey
colouring of Vandervelde and Ruysdael to the mellow and
richer tones of Claude. His works now begin to show a
heightened scale of colour, gradually increasing in richness
and splendour anJ leaebing its culminating point in such
works as the Ulysses, Childe Harold's PilgTimage, the
Golden Bough, and the Fighting Tem6raire. All these
works belong to the middle period of Turner's art ( 1 829-
39), when his powers were entirely developed and entirely
unabated. Much of his most beautiftd work at this period
is to be found in his water-colour drawings : those exe-
cuted for Whitaker's Hittory of Rickmondskire (1819-21),
for Cooke's Southern Coast (1814-26), for The Rivers o)
England (1824), for England and Wales (1829-38), Pro-
vinnal Antiquities (1826), Rogers's Italy (1830), Scott's
Worh (1834), and The Rivers of France (1833-35) are in
many instances of the greatest beauty. Of the Richmond-
shire drawings Mr Ruskin says, " The foliage is rich and
marvellous in composition, the rock and hill drawing in-
superable, the skies exquisite in complex form."
But perhaps one of the greatest services Turner rendered
to the art of England was the education of a whole school
of engravers. His best qualities as a teacher came from
the union of strength and delicacy in his work ; subtle
and delicate tonality was almost a new element for the
engraver to deal with, but with Turner's teaching and
careful supervision his engravers by degrees mastered it
more or less successfully, and something like a new de-
velopment of the art of engraving was the result. No
better proof can be found of the immense advance made
than by comparing the work of the landscape engravers of
the pre-Turnerian period with the work of Miller, Goodall,
Willmore, Cooke, Wallis, Lupton, C. Turner, Brandard,
Cousen, and others who worked under his guidance. The
art of steel engraving reached its highest development in
England at this time. Rogers's /te/y (1830) and his Poem»
(1834) contain perhaps the most beiutiftil and delicate
of the many engravings executed after Turner's drawings.
They are vignettes,' a form of art which Turner tinderstood
better than any artist ever did before, — perhaps, we might
add, since. The Alps at Daybreak, Columbus Discovering
Land, and Datur Hora Quieti may be given as examples
of the finest
In 1828 Ttu-ner paid a second visit to Italy, this time
of considerable duration, on the way visiting Nimes,
Avignon, Marseilles, Genoa, Spezzia, and Siena, and in the
following year he exhibited the Ulysses Deriding Polyphe-
mus, now in the National Gallery It marks the beginning
of the central and best period of Turner's power. This
work is so well known that description is hardly needed.
The galley of Ulysses occupies the centre of the picture ;
the oars are being thrust out and the sailors flocking up
the masts to unfurl sail, while Ulysses waves the blazing
ohve tree in defiance of the giant, whose huge form is
seen high on the cliffs above , and the shadowy horses of
Phoebus are traced in the slanting rays of the rising sim.
The impression this picture leaves is one of great power
and splendoiu-. The painting throughout is magnificent,
especially in the sky. Leslie speaks of it as " a poem of
* " Of all the artists whoever lived I tbmk it is Turner who treated
the vignette most exquisitely, and, if it were necessary to 6nd some par-
ticular reason for this, I should say that it may have been because there
was nothing harsh or rigid in his genius, that forms and colours melted
into each other tenderly in his dream-world, aud th:it his sense of
^adatioQ was the uiost delicate ever possessed by mMi " tUamertou).
TURNER
667
matchless splendour and beauty." From this period on-
irard till about 1840 Turner's life was one of unceasing
activity. Nothing is more astonishing than his prodigious
fertility , he rose early, worked from morning till night,
entirely absorbed in his art, and gradually became more
and more solitary and isolated. Between 1829 and 1839
he sent fifty-five pictures to the Royal Academy, painted
many others on private commission, made over four
hundred drawings for engravers, .besides thousands of
studies and sketches from nature. His industry accounts
for the immense quantity of work he left behind him.
jThere is not the slightest evidence to show that it arose from
4 desire to make money, which he never cared for in com-
iparison with his art. He has been accused, perhaps not
i without some cause, of avarice and meanness in his busi-
ness dealings, and many stories are told to his discredit.
But in private he often did generous things, although
owing to his reserved disposition his virtues were known
only to a few. His faults on the other hand — thanks to
the malice, or jealousy, of one or two individuals — were
freely talked about and, as a matter of course, greatly e.x-
aggerated. " Keep it, and send your children to school
and to church," were the words with which he declined
repayment of a considerable loan to a poor drawing-master's
widow. On another occasion, when interrupted in his
work, he roughly chid and dismissed the applicant, a poor
woman; but she had hardly left his door before he followed
her and slipped a £5 note into her hand. His tenants in
Harley Street were in arrears for years, but he would never
. allow his lawyer to distrain , and if further proof of his
generosity were needed his great scheme for bettering the
condition of the unfortunate in his own profession should
suffice. On one occasion he is known to have taken down
a picture of his own from the walls of the Academy to
make room for that of an unknown artist.
The first of Tiirner's Venetian pictures (Bridge of
Sighs, Ducal Palace and Custom House, Venice, Canaletti
Painting) appeared in the Academy in 183.3. Compared
with the sober, prosaic work of Canaletti, Turner's pictures
of Venice appear like poetic dreams. Splendour of colour
and carelessness of form generally characterize them.
Venice appeared to him " a city of rose and white, rising
out of an emerald sea against a sky of sapphire blue."
Many of these Venetian pictures belong to his later manner,
and some of them, the Sun of Venice Going to Sea (.1843),
Approach to Venice (r844), and Venice, Evening, Going to
the Ball (1845), to his latest. As Turner grew older his
love of brilliant colour and light became more and more
a characteristic. - -In trying to obtain these qualities he
gradually fell in^ an unsound method of work, treating
oil as if it had oeen water-colour, using both indiscrimi-
nately on the same canvas, utterly regardless of the result.
Many of his finest pictures are already in a ruined state,
mere wrecks of what they once were.
The Fighting Tem^raire Tugged to her Last Berth to
be Broken up (see vol. xxi.p. 441, fig. 43) was exhibited in
the Academy of 1839. By many it is considered one of
his finest works. Turner had all his life been half a sailor
at heart : he loved the sea, and shipping, and sailors and
their ways , many of his best pictures are sea pieces ; and
the old ships of CoUingwood and Nelson were dear to him.
Hence the pathetic feeling he throws around the fighting
Tem^raire. The old three-decker, looking ghostly and
wan in the evening light, is slowly towed along by a
black, fiery littlo steam tu^, — a contrast suggesting the
passing away of the old order of things and the advent of
the new; and bohind the sun sets red in a thick Ijiuk
of smoke or mkt.' The Slave Ship, another important sea"
picture, was esJiibited in the foMo-i;^^ "'*"> «'"'' ">" 1842
Peace
.x ,, a
jt.LKraa'-j of V.'iikie
Turner had now reached his sixty-seventh year, but no
very marked traces of declining power are to be seen io
his work. Many of the water-colour drawings belon^g
to this period are of great beauty, and, although a year or
two later his other powers began to fail, his faculty for
colour remained unimpaired almost to the end. He paid
his last visit to the Continent in 1843, wandering about
from one place to another, and avoiding his own country-
men, an old and solitary man. At his house in Queeu
Anne Street they were often ignorant of his whereabouts
for months, as he seldom took the trouble to «Tite to any
one. Two years later (1845) his health gave way and
with it both mind and sight began to fail. The works
of his declining period exercised the wit of the critics.
Turner felt these attacks keenly. He was naturally kind-
hearted and acutely sensitive to censure. " A man may
be weak in his age," he once remarked, "but you should
not tell him so."
After 1845 all the pictures shown by Turner belong to
the period of decay, — mere ghosts and shadows of what
once had been. In 1850 he exhibited for the last time.
He had given up attending the meetings of the Academi-
cians , none of his friends had seen him for months ; and
even his old housekeeper had no idea of his whereabouts.
Turner's mind had evidently given way for some time, and
with that love of secrecy which in later years had grown
into a passion he had gone away to hide himself in a
corner of London. He had settled as a lodger in a small
house in Chelsea, overlooking the river, kept by his old
Margate landlady, Mrs Booth. To . the children in tha
neighbourhood he was known as "Admiral Booth." Hia
short, sailor like figure may account for the idea that he
was an impoverished old naval officer. He had been ill
for some weeks, and when his Queen Anne Street house-
keeper at last discovered his hiding-place she found him
sinking, and on the following day, the 19th December 1851,
he died. He was buried in St Paul's cathedral, in deference
to a wish Tie had himself expressed.
He left the large fortune he had amassed (about £140,000) to
found a charity for the " raaintenance and support of male decayed
artists, being born in England, and of English parents only, and
of lawful issue." His pictures he bequeathed to the nation, on con-
dition that they were to be exhibited in rooms of their own, and
that these rooms were to be called "Turner's Gallery." The will
and its codicils were so confused that after years of litigation, during
which a large part of the money was wasted in legal expenses, it
was found impossible to decide what Turner really wanted. A
compromise was effected in which the wishes of everybody, save
those of the testator, were consulted, his next-of-kin, whom he did
not mean to get a single farthiug, inheriting the bulk of his pro-
perty. The nation got all the pictures and drawings, and the Royal
Academy £20,000.
It is unnecessary here to do mc e than allude to the charges
which have been brought against Turner's moral character. Like
most men of note he bad his enemies and detractors, and it is to
ba regretted that so many of the stories they set in circulation
should have been repeated by one of his biographers, who candidly
admits having 'spared none of his faults," and excuses himself for
so doing by " what he hopes" is his "undeviating love of truth."
The immense quantity of work accomplished by Turner during Ms
lifetime, work full of the utmo.st delicacy and refinement, proves
the singularly fine condition of his nervous system, and is perhaps
the best answer that can be given to the charge of being excessively
addicted to sensual gratification. In his declining years he possibly
had recourse to stimulants to help his failing powers, but it by no
means follows that he went habitually to excess in their use. He
never lost an opportunity of doing a kindness, and under a rough
and cold exterior there was more good and worth hidden than tno
world imagined. " During the ten years I knew him," says Mr
Ruskin, "y-^ars in which he was suffering most from the evil-
speaking of the world, I never heard him say one depreciating
word of any living man or man's work ; I never saw him look an
r.ii'siud or blameftd look ; I never knew him let pass, ^vithout
sorrowful remonstrance, or endeavour at mitigatioa, a blameful
word spoken by another. Cf no man but Turner, wboui I have
ever known, could I sav tliis." Twice during his earlier days there
ire ci'.CU" -tjncCL !.'u_: . : to '.av Iciic.' tbut he l.:i<i ti-.crjV.ts of
668
T U R — T U R
marriage, tat on both occasions it ended in disappointment and
hH^e ^ter his father died was cheerless and 8ohtarj-, without
Bftlarp or comfort of any kind. , , .
If Turner had died early his repntation as an artist would l,a ye
been very different from what it ultimately became He wou.d
nTt have been recognized as a colourist^ It was only after the year
1820 that colour began to assert itself strongly in his work. He
Mfntcd for many a°year in greys and greens and browns, went
Sly hrough ■■ the subdued golden chord," and painted ye low
mkUand sun"s rising through vapour; but as t.me went on that
wS no longer enough, and he tried to paint the sun in his strength
Inl the full gloriel oC sunshine. The means at the pamter s dis-
til are. howfver. lim.Ud, and Turner, in his efforts after bnUiancy,
Kgan to indulge in reckless experiments m colour. He co"ld ?»'
eufure even the slightest restraints which techmca l™f t'™^ r:"
,K«e, but went on/trying to paint the unpainUble. A f waiter.
ioloir painter Turner stands pre-eminent ; he is unquestionably
IL greatest master in that branch of art that ever I'ved I his
work is compared with that of Barrett, or \ ariey, or Cozens, or
Sa"dby. or aE^ of the earlier n.aste,^, so g^^fV^jT " ,V"S a
ity that the art in his hands seems to be Ufted altogether into a
''1n"84?a"champion, in the person of Mr Ruskin arose to defend
Turner against the unjust and ignorant attacks of the press and
what at first was intended as a "short pamphlet, reprobating the
manner and style of these critics," grew into the hve volumes
known as ModJn Painters. The writer employs all h,s eloquence
and his great critical faculty to prove how immeasurably superior
Turner xSs to all who had ever gone before, hardly restrict ng his
supremacy to landscape art, and placin" him among the seven
.upreme colourists of the world." Two lives o Turner ha^.e been
,rntten, one by Mr Thombury, the other by Jlr Hamerton. The
work of the latter deserves the highest commendation ; it gives a
clear and consistent history of the great artist, and is c .aractenzed
bv refined thought and critical insight. An e.^cellent Utt e book by
Jir W. C Monkhouse should also be noticed. lt»-. Kc.)
TUKNHOUT, a town of Belgium, in the province ot
Antwerp, 25 miles east-north-east from Antwerp and 6
from the Dutch frontier, stands in the middle of a wide
plain It is a prosperous manufacturing and commercial
centre, the chief industries being the weaving of cottons
and linens (especially ticking), lace-making, paper-making,
brick-making, dyeing, bleaching ; there is also an establish-
ment for the rearing of leeches. The population of the
commune in 1876 was 15,743
TURNING. See Lathe.
TURNIP. See Agriciiltdre, vol i pp .Jfao-iDb, ana
HoRTicoLTiTRE, vol. xii. p. 2S8.
TURNIP-FLY, Turnip-Flea, or Earth Flea-Beetle,
the name applied to several species of Haltica which infest
turnip fields and do considerable damage to crops. Ihe
genus belongs to the family Chrysomdidx, and includes
about 100 species. The turnip-fly most usually met with,
Hahka nemorum, is scarcely 2ram. in length and ol a
shining black colour, with two och-
reous yellow longitudinal bands run-
ning along each wing-case; the bands
are slightly sinuous and bend inwards
at the hinder end. Of the eleven-
antennse the first three seg-
Tamip fly (Haltica
nemorum).
The coxae and
jointed - _
ments are yellow and the remainder
black. The coxae are black, the rest
of the legs having a yellowish hue. __-
tibis are stout and formed for leaping, especially in the
posterior pair of legs. The remarkable power of jumping
has given rise to the name turnip-flea. The females are
Blightly longer and decidedly stouter than the males.
Another species, H. concinna, has a greenish yeUow or
brassy appearance, and the tibioe of the two posterior le^
are armed ^vith a thorn-like hook. A third species, //.
consobrina, is of a dark blue colour above, whilst another
Bpecies, H. ohscurella, often very abundant, is of a lighter
blue colour, and larger than those mentioned above. ^
The life-history of Haltica nemorum may be Uken as an example
of that of the genus. Tlie beetles begin pairing dunng AprU, ana
tontinuo all through the summer. The female lays but fe^eggs
usually one a day.^ The eg^s are deposited on the under surface of
. leaf, close under one of the pro.iecling veins ; they possess a pio-
tccrive colouring. The development within the egg lasts ten days,
at the end of which a small larva creeps out, and at once eats its
wav through the lower epidermis of the leaf into the mesophyll aud
there foms long winding burrows. The larva or maggot is of a
yellowish colour and somewhat cylindncal m form. It has three
pairs of legs anteriorly and a pair of pro-legs at its binder end. The
most anterior and the most posterior segment bear a black spot.
The mouth is provided with a pair of mandibles, by means of
which the larva eats its way through the soft tissue of the leaf.
This larval condition lasts about six days ; the maggot then leaves
the leaf and buries itself some one or two inches beneath the surfaca
of the earth ; here it turns into a chrysalis. From this the fuU-
OTOwn beetle emerges after an interval of fourteen days, and it is in
this stage of its life-history that it proves most destructive to the
turnip crop. Several broods may be produced each season ; the
beetle lives through the winter sheltered under fallen leaves, pieces
of wood, clods of earth, &.C., until the warmth of spring awakens it,
when it soon begins to lay eggs. . , , ^, c t i,»„ti»
Since the chief damage to the crop is due to the perfect beeUe
devouring the young leaves of the tnmip plant, one of the most
important methods of dealing with the pest is to ensur. a strong
and healthy growth of the plant, by means of manuring, watenng,
&c Another preventative is the removal of such weeds as the
shepherds purse and charlock, which harbour the insect m great
numbers, and the removal of any stubble in which it nj'gW P»f|
the winter. When a crop is badly attacked dressings of soot and
gas. lime mixed wuh sulphur and Jime, or of soot or hme alone,
prove efficacious, but these must be applied whilst the dew is on
the leaves or the " fiy " will escape.
TURNSTONE, the name long given » to a shore-bird,
from its habit of turning over with its bill such stones as
it can to seek its food in the smaU crustaceans or oth^r
animals lurking beneath them. It is the Tringa interpres^
of Linnaeus and Slrepsilas inlerpres of most later writers,
and is remarkable as being perhaps the most cosmopolitan
of birds; for, though properly belonging to the northern
hemisphere, there is scarcely a sea-coast in the world
on which it may not occur : it has been obtamed from
Spitzbergen to the Strait of Magellan and from Point
Barrow to the Cape of Good Hope and New Zealand-
examples from the southern hemisphere being, however,
almost invariably in a state of plumage that shows if not
immaturity, yet an ineptitude for reproduction. It also,
though much less commonly, resorts to the margins of
inland rivers and lakes ; but it is very rarely seen except
in the neighbourhood of water, and salt water for preference.
The Turnstone is about as big as an ordinary Snipe ; but, com-
pared with most of its allies of the gronpLimiccl^, to ^^1"* '« f'f;
ongs, its form is somewhat heavy, and its legs are short Still it
s br sk in its movements, and its vanegated plumage makes it a
pleading bird. Seen in front, its white face, stnped with black, and
b^d black gorget attract attention as it sits, often motionl^s on
the rocks ; while in flight the white of the lower part of the back
and white band across "the wings are no less ~"^F;'f ^X""^* ^
distance. A nearer view will reveal the nch chestnut of the mantle
and upper wing-eoverts, and the combination cf » oui^ thus ex-
hibited suggest! the term "tortoise-shell" often appUed to it-the
quillfeathf^ being mostly of a dark brown ^^ 'ts lower part^^ pure
white The deeper tints are, however, peculiar to the nuptial
plumage, or are only to be faintly traced at other times, so that .»
Printer the adults-end the young always-have a much plamer
a^-arance, ashy-grey and white being almost the °°ly tues obsen--
abl^ From the fact that Turnstones rnay be met wi h at almost any
season in various parts of the world,= and especially on islands as
^h^Canaries, Azor^.s and many of those in the Bnt^h seas .t ha,
been inferred that these birds may breed in such places In some
cases this may prove to be true, but in most evidence to that effect
U wanting In America the breeding-range of this species has not
been defined. In Europe there is good reason to suppose that it-
1 The name seems to appear 6rst in WUlughbys OrnMMcgviJp
231) in 1676 ; but he gave as an alia, that of Sea-Dottrel, ""der 'hicb
name a drawing, figm-ed by him (pL 58), was sent to him by Bir
Tliomas Browne. , c-^ „-♦ wjtii
= Linnaeus (OS!, och OothlSndsIca Resa, p. 217), who first met vnth
this bird on the island of GottUnd, Isi July 1/41, was >^d" 'he mis-
taken belief that it was there called Tolk (^ ^nlcrprc,). But that name
properly belongs to the Redshank (?.r.), from the cry of warning to-
other animals that it utters on the approach of danger. ,„,,.„
» Tlie authors of The Iln/cr Birds of Xorlh Aw^a (i. p. 123) itt
ref.-rence to this fact raise the ingenious question, " Do bmls, after they
have become old, effete, or banen, prefer to stay in a warm climat« (.
T U R — T U R
C69
•Jnclades Shetland ; but it is on the north • western coast of the
continent, from Jutland to the extreme north of Norway, that the
greatest number are reared. The nest, contrary to the habits of
most Limicols, is generally placed under a ledge of rock which
shelters the bird from observation,' and therein are laid four eggs,
of a light oKve-grsen, closely blotched with brown, and hardly to
be mistaken for those of any other bird. A second species of Turn-
stone is admitted by some authors and denied by otliers. This is
the S. melanocephalus of the Pacific coast of North America, which
is said to be on the average larger than S. inierpres, and it never
«zhibits any of the chestnut colouring.
Though the genus Strepsilas seems to be rightly placed
among the Charadnidx (cf. Plover), it occupies a some-
what abnormal position among them, and in the form of
its pointed beak and its variegated coloration has hardly
any very near relative. (a. n.)
TURPENTINE consists of the oleo-resins which exude
from certain trees, especially from some conifers and from
the terebinth tree, Pistacia Terel/inthus, L. It was to the
product of the latter, now known as Chian turpentine, that
the term was first applied. The terebinth tree (t«/)^ii'^o9
of Tbeophrastus) and its resin (p-qrivr^ Ttpfi-lvdivri) were
well known and highly prized from the earliest times.
The tree is a native of the islands and shores of the Medi-
terranean, passing eastward into Central Asia ; but the
resinous exudation found in commerce is collected in the
island of Scio. Chian turpentine is a tenacious semi-fluid
f ransparcnt body, yellow to dull brown in colour, with an
agreeable resinous odour and little taste. On exposure
to the air it becomes dry, hard, and brittle. In their
general characters, turpentines are soft solids or semi-fluid
bodies, consisting of a mixture of one or more resins with
essential oils, which, although differing in physical pro-
perties, have a composition corresponding to the formula
C)(|H,j. They also contain minute quantities of oxygenated
oils. Formerly they had considerable reputation in medi-
cine, and they still continue to be employed in plasters
and ointments ; but their great use is in the arts, for which
they are separated by distillation into rosin or colophony
(see PvOSiN, vol. XX. p. 852) and oil or spirit of turpentine.
Cnulc 0' common tuTjxtUine is the commercial name which
embraces the oleo-resiu yielded by several coniferous trees, both
European and American. The principal European product, some-
times distinguished as Bordeaux' turpentine, is obtained from the
sea pine, Pima marilima, in the Landes department of France.
Onide turpentine is further yielded by the Scotch iir, P. sylvestris,
througliout northern Europe, and by the Corsican pine, P. Laricio,
in Austria and Corsica. In the United States the turpentine-
yielding pines are the swamp pine, P. palustrU, and the loblolly.
P. Tteda, both inhabiting North and South Carolina, Georgia, and
Alabama. Venice lurpentiiie is yielded by the larch tree, Lurtx
tuTopsa, from which it is collected principally in Tyrol Slna-
lurg turpenline i> obtained from the bark of the silver fir ; but
it is collected only in small (quantities. Less known tiirjientines
are obtained from the mountain pine, P. Pumilio, the stone pine,
P. Canbra, the Aleppo pine, P. haleimisis, itc. The so-called
Canada iMbam, from Abies baUamea (see Bal-sam, vol. iii. p. 293),
fa also a true turpentine.
Oil of lurpaiiiiu as a commercial product is obtained from all
or any of those oleo-resins, but on a large scale only from crude
or common turpentine. The essential oil is rectified by redistilla-
tion with water and alkaline carbonates, and the water which the
oil carries over with it is removed by a further distillation over
calcium chloride. Oil of turpentine is a colourless liquid of oily
consistence, with a strong characteristic odour and a hot disagree-
able taste. Its boiling point ranges from 152° to 1 72° C. at ordinary
temperatire; its sp. gr. is between 0856 and 0'870 ; and in optical
properties i^ rotates the plane of polarized light both to ri"ht and
left in varying degrees aciJording to its sources. It is soluble in
alcohol, ether, benzol, other essential oils, and the fixed oils, and
itself is a solvent of resins and caoutchouc. On exposure to tlie air it
dries to a solid resin, and when oxidized in the presence of water
pves off peroxide of hydrogen — a reaction utilized in the preparation
of a disinfectant called "sanitaa. Oil of turpentine is largely
lued in the preparation of varnishes, and as a medium by painters
in their ' ' flat " colours.
' There is little external difference between the sexes, and the
taigbUy-contrasted coloara of the hen-hirU seem to require some kind
ncealment.
TURPIN, archbishop of Rheims and the supposititious
author of Hutoria Karoli Magni et Rolholandi, is probably
to be identified with Tilpin, who was archbishop of Eheims
towards the end of the 8th century. This Tilpin is alluded
to by Hincmar (845-882), his third successor in the see.
According to Flodoard (ob. 969), Charles Martel drove
Ragobert, bishop of Rheims, from his office, putting in
his place a warrior-clerk, Milo. The same writer repre-
sents Milo as discharging a mission among the Vascones or
Basques, the very people to whom authentic history lias
ascribed the great Carolingian disaster at Roncesvalles. It
is possible that we owe the warlike legends that have
accumulated round the name of Turpin to some confusion
of his identity with that of his martial predecessor.
Flodoard says that Tilpin was originally a monk of St
Denis ; and we know from Hincmar that, after his appoint-
ment to Rheims, he occupied hiniself in securing the re-'
storation of the metropolitan rights and landed property
of his church, whose revenue and prestige had Leen im-
paired under Miio's rule. He was, according to the latter
authority, elected in the days of Pippin, tliason of Cliarles
Martel, i.e., between 752 and 7CS. He died, if we may
trust the evidence of a diploma alluded to by Mabillon, in
79-1. Hincmar, who composed his epitaph, makes him
bishop for forty years and more, from which it is evident
that he was elected somewhere about 754. Flodoard,
however, states that he died in the forty-seventh year of
his bishopric. Tilpin was present at the synod of Roma
in 769 ; and Pope Hadrian, at the request of Charlemagne,
sent him a paUium and confirmed the rights of his church
(Gallia Cliristiana, ix. 28-30). According to Flodoard,
he substituted monks for canons in the monastery of St
Remigius; and 17th-century tradition ascribed to hinv
an ancient pontificaU, still extant in Marlot's days (17tU
century).
The above is a summary of all th.it authentic history and tmst-
worthy tradition teach about the author to whom the common voic«
of the Middle Ages ascribed the Hisioria Caroli Magiii. A short
account of the work has been given elsewhere (Roland, Legesd
OF). But, popular as this production was during the Middle Ages,
it was rather the crystallization of earlier Roland legends than tlie
source of later ones. Potthast has enumerated about fifty codices
without by any means, according to M. Gaston Paris, exhausting
the list. The latter writer has made the Hisioria Karoli the
subject of a special study (De Pstudo-Turpino, Paris, 1865), which
may be recommended as a model of brilliant though cautious
.scholarship. The great popularity of the pseudo-Turpin seems to
date from the latter half of the 12th century ; and M. Paris enumer-
ates at least five French translations belonging to the 13th, and
one into Latin verse of about the same age. Mr Ward {Cat. of
Pomances, 549) has recently expressed a doubt as to whether the
Turpin chronicle was completed at Vienne.
TURQUOISE, a blue or bluish green mineral, valued,
when cut and polished, as an ornamental stone. The
finest variety occurs in Persia, whence it originally reached
western Europe by way of Turkey, and thus came to be
called by the Venetians, who imported it, iurchesci, and
by the French turquoise. It is chemically a liydrated
phosphate of aluminium, associated with a variable pro-
portion of hydrated phosphate of copper, to wliich it owes
much of its colour. The green tints of certain varieties
appear to be due to admixture with salts of iron. A fine
blue Persian turquoise, analysed by Prof. A. H. Church,
yielded — alumina 40'19, phosphorus pentoxide 32'86, water
19'34, cupric oxide 5'27, ferrous oxide 2-21, and manganous
oxide 0'36. The most valued tint of the turquoise is a
delicate blue, inclining slightly to green ; in many speci-
mens the green becomes more pronounced with age.
Although the turquoise is practically opaque, sections may
be ground so thin as to admit of examination by trans-
mitted light. Its microscopic structure ^^-as first studied
by Prof. Fischer of Freiburg (Baden), afterwards by H.
Biicking of Strasburg, and recently by Clarke and Diller.
670
T U R — T U S
I
Thin sections are almost colourless. Between crossed
Nicols they show either a fibrous texture or a finely-granular
aggregate of doubly -refracting particles without definite
crystalline outlines. The mineral has never been found
crystallized, but occurs as veins, nodules, stalactitic masses,
and incrustations. Large pieces are exceedingly rare. The
specific gravity of turquoise is about 2'75, and its hardness
below 6 ; it takes a fair pohsh and exhibits a feeble lustre.
It is usually cut en cabochon or with a low convex surface,
and in the East is frequently engraved with Persian and
Arabic inscriptions, generally passages from the Koran, —
the incised characters being in many cases gilt. Such
objects are worn as amulets. The turquoise has always
been associated with curious superstitions, the most com-
mon being the notion that it changes colour with variations
in the state of its owner's health, or even in sympathy
with his afiections.
Persia is the chief centre of the turquoise trade, where the same
mines have been worked for at least eight centuries. The finest
stones are found near Nishapir in Khorasan (see Persia, vol. rviii.
I. 622). Tavernier, writing in the 17th century, states that the
est turquoise, reserved for the sole use of the shah, was obtained
from the mine which he describes as the Vieillc Roche, while inferior
stones were got from the Nouvclle Roche These terms still survive,
all turquoise of fine colour being said in trade to be from the " old
rock," and that which is pale, or changes tint on exposure, is from
the " new rock." According to a recent report by Consul Benjamin
at Teherau the best turquoise is found at Abu Riah, and all the
Khorasan mines are farmed by a few prominent officials, who pay
to the shah an annual rent of about £6500. Dr Tietze has lately
described specimens of the matri.x of the mineral brought to Vienna
from Persia by General Schindler. These show that the turquoise
occurs, not in clay-slate, as is often stated, but in a porphyritic
trachyte or trachytic breccia, and in loose fragments in the neigh-
bouring alluvium. The mineral is also found in Eerman in
soutliern Persia, but the stone is of pale colour, tending to fade, and
the mines which yield it are now nearly abandoned. In 1849 Major
C. llacdonald found turquoise in Wady Mnghara and Wady Sidreh,
near Sinai (q.v. ), where, according to Mr H. Bauerman, it lines the
open joints of a ferruginous sandstone, and is also embedded in
small ochreous nodules in the rock itself. The redder the rock the
finer the colour of the associated turquoise. As the colour is liable
to fade, the Arabian turquoise has not a good name among jewellers,
and the workings were abandoned by Macdonald in 1865. In
Wady Maghara there are relics of extensive mining operations, pre-
Bumably for turquoise, of so early a date that the rock «as wrought
by flint implements. The early inhabitants of Meidco made much
Qse of this mineral for inlaying obsidian ornaments, and for mosaic
work with iron-pyrites. It was probably one of the stones known
as chalchihuitl. In 1853 Prof W. P Elake called attention
to the occurrence of turquoise at Cerillos, about 22 miles south-
west of Santa Fe, in New Mexico, where mining operations for this
mineral were carried on two centuries ago. The turquoise varies
in colour from sky-blue to apple-green, and is found as nodules and
small veins in a felspathic rock of microgranitic texture, probably
of eruptive origin. The mines of Cerillos are no longer worked.
A similar green mineral is found at Turquoise Mountain in Cochise
county and at Mineral Park, Mohave county, Arizona- It also
occurs to a small extent in southern Nevada, where it is found as
blue grains disseminated through a sandstone. In Europe, the
turquoise is found at Oelsnitz in Saxony and near Jordansmiihl in
Silesia, occurring at the latter locality in clay-slate. Under the
names of eallais and callaina Pliny described a green mineral which.
If not our turquoise, seems to have been very closely related to it.
A bright green mineral, wrought into beads, and found with stone
hatchets in ancient graves at ilen-er Hroeck (Rock of the Fairy) in
Brittany, was described in lo'j! by M. Damour, who, seeking to
identify it with Pliny's caUai', revived this name. Dana afterwards
brought the word into harmony with our mineralogical nomenclature
by writing it callainite. The mineral in question is a hydrated
pnospliate of aluminium, apparently identical with Breithaupt's
variscil-. By many mineralogists the true torquoise is called
calaite (see vol. xvi. p. 405).
Turquoise is commonly imitated by enamels, but of late some
Ingenious counterfeits have been made with the same chemical
composition as tlio natural stone. To increase the deception,
pieces of ochreous matter are inserted at the back of the artilicial
turquoise, to imitate the natural matrix. In order to distinguish
between the genuine stone and its imitations, Pohl recommends that
a splinter should be strongly heated in a platinum capsule, when
the true turquoise is reduced to a brownish black powder or a friable
mass witii a decrepitating sound ; the false turquoise does not de-
crepitate, but cither fuses to a glasc o? ia reduced to a frit.
For recent mformation on the turquoise, see " Das Vorkommen der TiirkiM
bei Nischapur in Persien," by Dr E. Tietze, in VcrTtandL d k. k. gedtog. Heichsan.
stalt, No. 6,1884, p. 93; "Mikroskopische Untersuchung des TUrkis," by H.
BiiciLing, in Zcitsch. /. Krystallog., vol. ii., 1878, p. 163 ; "Eine ciniache and
sichere Unt^i-scheidungsweise der echten Tiirkise von deren Narhahmungen,'
in N. Jahrb. /. Miruratogie, ISTS, p. 354 ; " Turqois from New Mexico," by F.
W. Clarke and J. S. D lier, in Americ. Joum. Scienct, Sept, 1886, p. 211 ; "Re-
vision of Mineral Phosptiates, No. iv., Calaite," by A. H. Church, in CA«m.
News, X. p. 290 ; and note in Journ. Soc. Arts, xxxii., 1884, p. 1084.
TUERETIN, or Turretini. Three theologians of this
name figure in the history of Genevan theology.
1. Benoit TtTRRETiN (1588-1631), the son of Francesco
Turretini, a native of Lucca, who settled in Geneva in
1579, was born in that town on 9th November 1588. He
was ordained a pastor in Geneva in 1612, and became
professor of theology in 1618. In 1620 he represented
the Genevan Church at the national synod of Alais, when
the decrees of the synod of Dort were introduced into
France; and in 1621 he was sent on a successful mission
to the states general of Holland, and to the authorities
of the Hanseatic towns, with reference to the defence of
Geneva against the threatened attacks of the duke of
Savoy. He published in 1618-20 a defence of the Genevan
translation of the Bible. Benoit Turretin died at Geneva
on 4th March 1631.
2. FEANgois Turretin (1623-87), son of the preceding,
was born at Geneva on 17th October 1623. After study-
ing theology in Geneva, Holland, and France, he became
a pastor in Geneva in 1647; after a brief pastorate at
Leyden, he again returned to Geneva as professor of
'theology in 1653. He was one of the most influential
supporters of the Formula Consensus Helvetica, drawn up
chiefly by Heidegger, in 1675, and of the particular tj-pe
of Calvinistic theology which that symbol embodied. His
Institutio Theologxs. Elencticx (3 vols. 4to, Geneva, 1680-83)
has passed through frequent editions, the last reprint
having been made in Edinburgh in 1847. F. Turretin
died at Geneva on 28th September 1687. He was also
the author of volumes entitled De Satisfactions Ckristi
Disputationes (Geneva, 1666) and De Necessaria Secessione
Nostra ab Ecclesia Romana (Geneva, 1687).
3. Jean Alphonse Turretin (1671-1737), son of the
preceding, was born at Geneva on 13th August 1671.
He was educated at Geneva and in Holland, and after
travelling in England and in France was received into
the " V^n^rable Compagnie des Pasteurs " of Geneva in
1693. In 1697 he became professor of church history.
During the next forty years of his life he enjoyed great
influence in Geneva as the advocate of a more liberal
theology than had prevailed under the preceding genera-
tion, and it was largely through his instrumentality that
the use of the Formula Consetisus Helvetica as a symbol
was discontinued in 1725. He also wrote and laboured
for the promotion of union between the Reformed and
Lutheran Churches, his most important work in this con-
nexion being Nubes Testium pro Moderato et Pacifico de
Rebus Theologicis Judicio, et Instituenda inter Protestantea
Concordia (Geneva, 1719). Besides this he wrote Co^i'ta-
tiones et Dissertationes Theologicse, on the principles of
natural and revealed religion (Geneva, 1737); and com-
mentaries on Thessalonians and Romans were published
posthumously. He died at Geneva on 1st May 1737.
TURTLE. See Tortoise.
TUSCANY (Ital. Toscana), one of the sixteen comparti-
menti of the kingdom of Italy, contains eight provinces —
Arezzo, Florence, Gro.seto, Leghorn, Lucca Massa-Carrara,
Pisa, and Siena — and has an area of 9287' square mile^
with a population of 2,208,869 in 1881. In 1859, im-
mediately before it united with the kingdom of Sardinia,
the grand-duchy of Tuscany, e.xclusive of Massa-Carrara,
which then belonged to Modena, but including the islands
of Gorgona, Elba, Pianosa, Formica, Montec isto, Giglio,
and Gianutra, as well as the duchy of Lucca (united to it
T U S — T U S
671
in ISi"), had an area of 8625 square miles and a popula-
tion of 1,S0G,940. See Itaxt, voL xiii. pp. 489-490.
Eteckia iq.v.) was finally annexed to Rome in 351 B.C. (see
Bome), and constitnted the seventh of the eleven regions into
vhicb Italy was, for administrative purposes, divided by Augustus.
Under Constaatine it was united into one province with Umbria,
an arrangement which subsisted until at least 400, as the Nolitia
speaks of a *' consularis Tusciee et Umbrise." In Ammianus Mar.
ceUinns there is implied a distinction between "Tuseia suburbicaria"
and "Toscia auDonaria," the latter being that portion which lies
to the north of the Amo. After the fsdl of the Western empire
Tuseia, with other provinces of Italy, came successively under the
sway of Herulians, Ostrogoths, and Greek and I.ombard dukes.
Dnder the last-named, "Tuseia Langobardorum, " comprising the
districts of Viterbo, Cometo, and Bolsena, was distinguished from
" Tuseia Regni;" -which lay more to the north. Under Charlemagne
the name of Tuseia orToscana bec.ime restricted to the latter only.
One of the earliest of the Frankish marquises was Boniface, either
first or second of that name,- who about 828 fought with success
against the Saracens in Africa. Adalbert I., who succeeded him,
in 873 espoused the cause of Carloman as against his brother Louis
HI. of France, and suffered excommonication and imprisonment
in consequence. Adalbert II. (the Rich), who married the ambitious
Bertha, daughter of Lothair, king of Lorraine, took a prominent part
in the politics of his day. A subsequent marquis, Hugo (the Great),
became also duke of Spoleto in 989. The male Une of marquises
ended with Boniface II. (or HI. ),who was mnrdered in 1052. His
widow, Beatrice, in 1055 marri«l Godfrey, duke "of Lorraine, and
governed the country tUl hex death in 1076, when she was succeeded
by Matilda {q.v. \ her only child by her first husband. Matilda
died in 1114 without issue, bequeathing all her extensive possessions
to the cbq^t^ The consequent struggle between the popes, who
claimed tiie inheritance, and the emperors, who maintained that the
countess- had tro right to dispose of imperial fiefs, enabled the prin-
cipal cities of Tuscany gradually to assert their independence and
govern fliemselves under consuls and elders of their own selection.
The most important of these Tuscan republics or self-governed com-
mones were Florence, Pisa, Siena, Arezzo, Pistoia, and Lucca.
Some account of the manner in which they were all gradually
absorbed by Florence will be found under Florence ana Medici.
The title of grand-duke of Tuscany was conferred on Cosmo de'
Medici by Pius V in 1567, and the emperor (MaximiHsai II.), after
■withholding his consent for some years, ultimately confirmed it
to Cosmo's successor in 157^. In 1735, in view of the childlessness
of Giovan Gastone, the last of the Medici, the succession of Francis,
duke of Lorraine, afterwards emperor Francis I. , was arranged for
by treaty. In 1765 he was succeeded as grand-duke by his second
son Leopqld (see Leopold IL), who, on becoming emperor in 1790,
hjnded Tuscany over to his second son Ferdinand, third grand-duke
of the name. The duchy was occupied by the French in 1 799, ceded
to Louis, prince of Parma, by the convention of Madrid in 1801, and
annexed to'the French empire in 1808. Ferdinand, however, »va3
reinstated in 1814, and on his death in 1824 was succSeded by his
ton LeoJ)old, second grand-duke of the name, who was deposed by
the constituent assembly on 16tb August 1860 See Italt
TUSCULUM, an ancient Latin city, situated in a com-
manding position on one of the eastern ridges of the Aiban
Hills, near the site of the modern Frascati (?.«). It has
a very beautiful and extensive view of the Campagna,
with Rome lying fifteen miles ' dist-ant to the north-west,
on the west the sea near Ostia, and the long range of the
Sabine Hills on the north east. According to tradition,
the city was founded by Telegonus, the sot) of Ulysses and
CSree; hence Horace (Epod., i 30) speaks of it as "Circ^a
moenia" and Ovid (Fast, iii. 91) as "Telegoni mania"
(see also Prop., iii 30, 4, and Sil. Ital , xii 535). The
legendary descent of one of the chief Tuscxdan families,
the gens Mamilia, from Ulysses through Telegonus is com-
memorated on some denarii struck by the Mamilian gens
in the later years of the Roman republic , these have on
the reverse a figure of Ulysses recognized by his dog Argo.
When Tarquinius Superbus was expelled from Rome his
cause was espoused by the chief of Tusculum, Octavius
Mamilius, who took a leading part in the formation of the
]^tia League, composed of the thirty principal cities of
Latium, banded together against Rome. Mamilius com-
manded the Latin army at the battle of Lake Regillus, a
' Dionysius (i. 20) state? that Tusculum was only 100 stadia (about
12i miles) from Rome ; but the Bfteentb ailestone on the Via Lstina
was close to the walls of T>iscBlum.
piece of water which then lay immediately below the Colles
Xusculaii, but is now dried up. At this battle (497 B.C.)
Mamilius was killed, and the predominance of Rome among
the Latin cities was practically established. From that
time Tuscultim became an ally of Rome, and on that account
frequently incurred the hostility of the other Latin cities.
In 378 B.C., after an expression of complete submission to
Rome, the people of Tusculum received the Roman fran-
chise, and thenceforth the city continued to hold the rank
of a manicipium. Several of the chief Roman families were
of Tusculan origin, e.^., the genles Mamilia, Fulvia, Fonteia,
Juventia, and Porcia; to the last-named the celebrated
Catos belonged. During the imperial period little is re-
corded about Tusctilum ; but soon after the transference
of the seat of empire to Constantinople it became a very
important stronghold, and for some centuries its counts
occupied a leading position in Rome and were specially
influential in the selection of the popes. During the 12th
century there were constant struggles between Rome and
Tusculum, and towards the close of the century the
Romans, supported by the tjerman emperor, gained the
upper hand, and the walls of Tusculum, together with the
greater part of the city, were destroyed.
Extensive remains still exist of the massive walls, which sur-
rounded the city, and of its arx — a separate citadel — which stood on
an abrupt rock, approached only on one side, that towards the city,
with which it was connected by long walla The walls are built of
large blocks of the native *' lapis Albanus " or pepeiino, some of
them as much as 5 feet long by 3 feet thick. They probably belong
to the early republican period ; restorations in concrete faced with
"opus reticulatnm" of the 1st century &c. can be traced in many
places.
During the latter yeare of the republic and under the empire
Tusculum was a favourite site for the country villas of wealthy
Romans That of Lucullus was very large and magnificent ; other
handsome houses were built there by Julius Caesar, L. Crassus,
Q. Metellns, Marcus Brutus, and others. A palace was erected
by Tiberius near Tusculum on the way to Rome, close to the Via
Latina.
The most interestifig associations of the city are those connected
with Cicero, whose favourite residenct ..nd retreat for study and
literary work was "at Tusculum. It was here that he composed his
celebrated Tusculan Disputations and other philosophical works.
Much has bten written on the position of his villa, but its true site
still remains doubtful. Its grounds are known to have adjoined
the more splendid >-illas of Lucullus and the consul Gabinius (sea
Cic, i)<! Fin., iii. 2, and Pro Dom., 24). The most probable site is
that now marked by the Villa RiifineUa to the west of Tusculum,
where the hill is divided into two ridges. The scholiast on Horace,
Epod., i. 30, states that Cicero's villa was "ad latera superiora,"
the plural probably being used in allusion to the double ridge.
The other theory, which places the site at Grotta Ferrata, s«me
distance farther to the west, has little evidence to support it
Although Cicero {Pro Seslio, 43) speaks of bis own house as being
insignificant in size compared to that of his neighbour Gabinius,
yet we gather from other notices in various parts of his works
that it was a building of no mean size and pretension. It comprised
two gymnasia (Dm, i. 5), with covered porliois for exercise
and philosophical discussion [Txtsc Disp., ii 3). One of these,
which stood on higher ground, was called "the Lyceum," and
contained a library {Div., ii. 3) ; the other, on a lower site, shaded
by rows of trees, was called " the Academy " The main building
contained a covered porticus or cloister, with apsidal recesses
(exedrs) containing seats (see Jd Fam., vii. 23). It also had
bath-rooms {Ad Fam., xiv 20), and contained a number of works
of art, both pictures and statues in bronze and marble {Ep. ad
Alt , L I, 8, 9, 10). The central atrium appears to have been small,
as Cicero speaks of it as an alriolum {Ad Quint. Fr., iii. 1). The
cost of this and the other house which he built at Pompeii led
to his being burdened with debt {Ep. ad Alt., ii. 1). Nothing
DOW exists which can be asserted to be part of Cicero's villa with
any degree of certainty. The so-called " scuola di Cicerone," near
the line of the ancient wall of Tusculum, is the substructure
of some building formed in the usual Roman way by a series of
vaulted chambers, and is clearly later in date than the time of
Cicero. Other remains of houses exist in and near the city, but
nothing is known as to their history or ownership.
Ruins of two theatres still exist. One of them, which is not
earlier than the beginning of the 1st century, between tiie city and
the arx, is fairly perfect, and still possesses most of its ancient seats,
divided into four cunci by three flights of steps. Only traces remaia
672
T U S — T V E
of the other theatre, which abutted against the long walls that
defended the road from the city to the arx. Remains of an amphi-
theatre of no great size can be traced, dating probably from the 3d
century. There is also a large pisciTia, near the first-mentioned
theatre. In the vicinity of Tusculum a number of interesting tombs
have been discovered at various times ; some, as for example that
of the Furii, contained valuable inscrip.tions of the 4th and 3d
centuries B.c,
The city was supplied with water by the Aqua Crabra, and near
it were the springs which fed two of the Roman aqueducts — the
Aqua Tepula and Aqua Virgo (Front., De Aq.^ 8).
For further information the reader Is referred to Compagni, Jl/cmorie Siorichx
ddV Anlico Ttisculo ; Canina, Descr. dell' Antico Tusculo ; Gell, Topogr. o/Rojw
and its Vicinity ; and Nibby, Dintorni di Roma, voL iii
TUSSER, Thomas (c. 1527-1580), poet, was the son of
William Tusser by IsabeHa, daughter of Thomas Smith of
Riveiihall, Essex, where he was born about 1527. Not-
withstanding strong reluctance on his part he was sent in
his early years to a music school, and became chorister in
the collegiate chapel of the castle of Wallingford. He was
afterwards admitted into the choir of St Paul's, and went
thence to Eton, where he was under the tuition of Nicholas
UdalL In 1543 he was elected to King's College, Cam-
bridge, and soon afterwards exchanged to Trinity HalL
On leaving the university he was for about ten years at
court, probably in some musical capacity. He then
settled as a farmer in Suffolk, near the river Stour, an
employment which he seems to have regarded as combin-
ing the chief essentials of human felicity. Subsequently
fae lived successively at Ipswich, West Dereham, Norwich,
and London. There he died in April 1580, and was
buried in the church of St Mildred in the Poultry. His
monument was destroyed in the fire, but the quaint epitaph
is preserved in Stow's Survey of London. A marble tablet,
on which the epitaph is inscribed, has been erected to
him in the church of Manningtree, Essex.
Tusaer's poems on husbandry have the charm of simplicity and
directness, and their practical saws were apparently relished, for
in his lifetime they went through a number of editions. 'They
axe A ffundrelh 0»gd Poititcs of Easbaiidyie, 1557, 1561, 1562, 1564,
and 1570; A Dialogue Wyuy7igcandThrt/uynge, 15G2; AHundrethe
Good Pointcs of Husba'iidric lately married unto a Huiuircihe Good
Pointes of Uuswifry, 1570 ; Five Uundreth Pointcs of Good Bus-
baiidrie united to as many of Good IViferie, 1573, 1576, 1577, 1585,
1586, 1590, 1593, reprinted with memoir by William Mavor, 1812,
by Auber, 1873, and by the English Dialect Society, 1879. His
metrical autobiography, printed in the Appendix to Five Bundrelh
Pointes, 1573, was republished in 1846 along with his will, which
would seem to refute the sarcasms which became current, that he
had not been successful in practising his own maxims. One of
these references is contained in a volume of epigrams by H. P., The
More the Merrier, 1608. One of thoepigrama entitled.<ld Tusscruvi,
begins thus :—
" Tusser, they tell me, when thou wert alive.
Thou, teaching thrift, tbyselfe could'st never thrive-
Possibly Tusser obtained the reputation of being poor from his
practice of thrift ; but in any case, if his will represents his worldly
condition at the time of his death, he was not in poverty in his
later years.
TVER, a government of central Russia, on the upper
Volga, bounded by Pskoff and Novgorod on the W. and N.,
Varosiavl and Vladimir oft the E., and Moscow and Smo-
lensk on the S. ; it has an area of 25,225 square miles.
Lying on the southern slope of the Valdai plateau, and
intersected by deep valleys, it has the aspect of a hilly
region, but is in reality a plateau ranging from 800 to
1000 feet in height. Its highest parts are in the north-
west, where the Volga, Western Dwina, and Msta rise in
marshes and lakes. The plateau is chiefly built up of
Carboniferous limestones. Lower and Upper, underlain by
Devonian and Silurian deposits, which appear only in the
denudations of the lower valleys. The whole is covered
by a thick sheet of boulder-clay (the bottom-moraine of the
Scandinavo- Russian ice-sheet) and subsequent lacustrine
deposits. A number of asar (see vol. x. p. 368) occur on
tiie slopes of .the plateau. Ochre, brick, aud pottery clays,
M also limestone for building, are obtained, and there are
chalybeate springs. The soil, which is clayey for the most
part, is not fertile as a rule.
Nearly the whole of Tver is watered by the upper Volga (350
miles) and its tributaries, several of which (Vazuza, Dubna, Sestra,
Tvertsa, and the tributaries of the Mologa) are navigable. The
Vyshnevototsk system of canals connects the Volga (navigable
some 60 miles from its source) with the Baltic, and the Tikhvin
system connects the Mologa -with Lake tadoga. The Msta, which
flows into Lake Ilmen, and its tributary the Tsna, water Tver in
the north-west, and the Western Dwina rises in Ostasb!xoff. This
network of riverj highly favours navigation : as many as 3000 boats
yearly pass through the Vyshnevototsk system, and corn, linseed,
spirits, flax, hemp, timber, metals, and manufactm-ed waie to the
annual value of £1,500,000 are shipped from, or brought to, tho
river ports of the government. Lakes, ponds, and marshes are
numerous in the west and north-west, Lake Seliger — the souice of
the Volga — and Lake Mstino being the most important. Tho
forests — coniferous in the north and deciduous in the south — are
rapidly disappearing, but still cover 890,000 acres. The climate is
continental ; the average yearly temperature at Tver (41°'5 Fahr.)
is the same as that of Orel and Tamboff (January 11°, July 67°).
The population (1,646,683 in 1883, as against 1,567,300 in 1872) is
uneijually distributed, and in the districts of Kalyazin and Kashin
attains a density not much less than that of the more highly
favoured black-earth provinces of south east Russia (16 and 17 per
square mile). Apart from some 100,000 Karelians and a few Poles
and foreigners, the people are all Great Russians. Some traces oC
Finnish Ves and of Litnuanians are found in the north-east and
south. The othcial returns give the number of Raskolniks as 25,000.
Only 157,110 are urban ; out agriculture is not the chief occupa-
tion. While barley and oats are exported, rye is imported. The
crops for 1883-1S85 averaged 2,889,400 quarters of corn and 4, 078,400
bushels of potatoes. Cattle-rearing does not prosper, and the in-
crease shown by the returns /or 1883 (351,630 horses, 583,670
cattle, and 373.780 sheep) as against those of 1872 is simply due to
better registration. Cheese-making has recently been introduced on
the co-operative principle (2168 cwts. of cheddar exported to Britain
in 1881). The fisheries in the lakes and rivers are productive. Tho
peasants are principally engaged in various manufactures. The
total production of the larger manufactures in 1883 was valued at
£2,237,250 (tanneries £244,460, cottons £803,270, distilleries
£320,010, flour-mills £263,500), and that of the petty trades carried
on in combination with agriculture (preparation of pitch, tar, and
turpentine, boat-building, construction of cars, sledges, wheels,
boxes, tubes, and wooden vessels, and cabinet-making) was estimated
in 1884at£3,000,000,givingoccupationtol01,400persons. Certain
branches of the leather industry are important, Kimry and Ostash.
kolf sending to the market £650,000 worth of boots annually. Tho
small workshops of Tver and the surrounding district work some
4500 cwts. of iron into nails every year, and the Ostashkoff smiths
use some 7000 cwts. of iron annually in the manufacture of hatchets,
scythes, sickles, and dillerent agricultural implements. Weaving,
lace-raaking, leather embroidery, stocking-making, felting, aud the
like are also important petty trades, several of these being organized
on co-operative principles by the zcmstvos. The railway from St
Petersburg to Moscow crosses Tver, and sends off two branches to
Rzheff and to Rybinsk, all three lines being among the busiest in
Russia. The river traffic also is considerable. The chief centres
of trade, besides the city of Tver, are Byezhetsk, Rzheff, Kashin,
Ostashkoff, Torshok, Krasnyi Kholm, and Vcsiegonsk during its
fair. The provincial assembly of Tver is one of tue most prominent
in Russia for its efforts in the cause of education ami sanitary
improvement. In 1883 there were 997 primary schools with 47,680
scholars (8500 girls), 17 gymnasia and progyranasia (1697 boys and
1263 girls), and two normal schools for teachers. The government
is divided into twelve districts, the chief towns of which, with their
populations in 1884, are — Tver (see below), Byezhetsk (5890),
kalyazin (5200), Kashin (5730), Kortcheva (2275), Ostashkoff (9900),
Ilzheff(26,480),Staritsa(2700), Torshok (12,910), Vesiegonsk (3370),
Vyshuiy Vototchok (11,590), and Zubtsoff (3160).
TVER, capital of the above government, lies 102 miles
by rail to the north-west of Moscow, on both banks of the
Volga (here crossed by a floating bridge) at its junction
with the Tvertsa. The low right bank is protected from
inundations by a dam. As a whole the town is but poorly
built. The oldest church dates from 1 56 4, and the cathedral
from 1689. An imperial palace, the courts, and the post-
ofiice rank among its best buildings. A public garden
occupies the site of the former fortress. The population
was 39,100 in 1884. The manufactures, chiefly of cotton,
employ 5900 workmen (5710 at the cotton mills), and ft
Rumber of nail-making workshops employ some 800 men,,
while more than 1000 women are engaged iu the domeatio,
T W E — T W I
673
manufactory of hosiery for export to Moscow and St
Petersburg. The trafSc of the town is considerable, Tver
being ac intermediate place for the trade of both capitals
with the provinces of the upper Volga.
Tver dates its origin from 1180, when a fort was erected at the
mouth of the Tvertsa to protect the Suzdal principality against
Novgorod. In the 13th century it became the capital of an in-
dependent principality, and remained so until the end of the 15th
century. Mikhail Yaroslavovitch, prince of Tver, was killed fighting
against the Tatars, as also was Alexander Mikhailovitch, who Doldly
fonght for the independence of Tver against Moscow It long re-
mained an open question whether Moscow or Tver would ultimately
gain the supremacy in Great Russia, and it was only with the help
of the Tatars that the princes of the former eventually succeeded
in breaking down the independence of Tver. In 1486, when the
city w-as almost entirely burned down by the Muscovites, the son of
Ivan III. became prince of Tver ; the final annexation to Moscow
followed four years later. In 1570 Tver had to endure, for some
reason now difficult to understand, the vengeance of Ivan the
Terrible, who ordered the massacre of 90,000 inhabitants of the
principality. In 1609-12 it was plundered both by the followers of
the second false Demetrius and by the Poles.
TWEED, a river in the south of Scotland, has its rise
in the south-west corner of Peeblesshire, not far from the
Devil-s Beef Tub in Dumfriesshire. The stream flowing
from Tweed's Well, about 1500 feet above sea-level, is
generally regarded as its source, although the honour is
also claimed for other streams issuing from a higher eleva-
tion. For the first 36 miles of its course it intersects the
county of Peebles — frequently on this account called
Tweeddale — in a north-easterly direction, passing between
verdant hills separated by valleys watered by its numerous
affluents. Having passed several picturesque keeps and
castles, it reaches the town of Peebles, shortly before which
it receives the Lyne Water from the north and the Manor
Water from the south. The valley now widens , the
scenery becomes softer and richer ; and the river, bending
in a more easterly direction, passes Innerleithen, where it
receives the Leithen from the north and the Quair from
the south. It then crosses Selkirkshire in a south-easterly
direction, and, having received the Ettrick from the south
on the borders of Roxburghshire, flows northward past
Abbotsford, forming for about 2 miles the boundary
between the counties of Selkirk and Roxburgh. After
receiving the Gala, the Tweed crosses the north-western
corner of Roxburghshire past Melrose and its abbey, -and,
after being joined by the Leader from the north, winds
past Dryburgh abbey round the south-western corner of
Berwickshire. The remainder of its course is in a north-
easterly direction through Roxbtwghshire past Kelso, where
it receives the Teviot from the south, and then between
the counties of Berwick and Northimiberland, past Cold-
stream and Norham castle to the town of Berwick, where
it reaches the North ' Sea. It receives the Eden Water
from the north at Edenmouth, the Leet Water from the
north at Coldstream, and the Till from Northumberland
between Coldstream and Norham castle. The lasf2 miles
of its course before reaching Berwick are in England.
Though the latter part of its course is through a compara-
tively level country, the scenery along the river is full of
charm, ow-ing to the picturesque variety of its finely wooded
banks. The associations connected with the keeps and
castles of the Tweed have supplied materials for several
of Sir Walter Scott's poems and romances ; and its varied
beautie.'' have been sung by Hogg, Leyden, Thomson, and
many others. The bed of the river is pebbly and sandy,
and, notwithstanding discolorations from manufactures, the
stream, from its clear and sparkhng appearance, is still well
entitled to the name of the "sQver Tweed." The total
area drainod by it is about 1870 square miles, and its total
length is 97 miles. Next to the Tay it is the largest river
ID Scotlalnd.. The Tweed has, however, no estuary, and its
traffic is chiefly confined to Berwick. But for a short dis-
tance up the river some navigation is carried on by barges.
The river is one of the best in Scotland for trout and salmon
fishing.
See Sir Thomas Dick Lauder's ScoUish Rivers and Prof. Veitch's
River Tuxid, 1884.
TWEEDS. See Woollen and Woksted Manufac-
tures.
TWELVE TABLES. See Roman Law, vol. xx. p.
679 s^., and Ro.me, vol. xx. p. 737.
TWENTY-FOUR PARGANAS, the metropolitan dis-
trict of the lieutenant-governorship of Bengal, India, takes
its name from the territory originally ceded to the East
India Company, which contained twenty-four parg4nas or
sub-districts. The district lies between 21° 55' 20" and 22°
57' 32" N. lat. and 88° 6' 45" and 88° 20' 51" E. long. It
has an area of 2124 square miles, and is bounded on the
north by Nadiyi, on the north-east by Jessore, on the south
and south-east by the Sundarbans, and on the west by the
river Hvigli (Hooghly). The country consists for the
most part of a vast alluvial plain within the delta of the
Ganges, and is everywhere watered by numerous rivers,
all branches of the Hiigli. In the northern portion the
soil is very rich, but the southern or seaboard part con-
sists of the network of swamps and inland channels known
as the Sundarbans. The Hiigli and six other streams are
navigable by the largest boats throughout the year The
district is well supplied with canals, the most miportant
bemg Tolly's Nala (10 miles long), which connects the
Hiigli with the BidyAdhdn. The Twenty-Four Parginas
was once famous for its sport, but owing to the extensiort
of cultivation ^ame is now scarce. Tigers are seldom met
with ; leopards are more numerous ; there are several
varieties of deer. The district has many roads, and is
traversed by the Eastern Bengal Railway and the Calcutta
and South-Eastern State Railway.
In 1881 the population of the district, exclusive of Calcutta,
numbered 1,869,559 (males 975,430, female^ 894,429), embracing
1,153,040 Hindus, 701,306 Mohammedans, and 13,978 Christians.
The ten following municipalities had each a population of upwards
of 10,000— South Suburban, 51,658 ; Agarpara, 30,317 , Barangar,
29,982; Naihati, 21,533; Nawabganj, 17,702; Basurhat, 14,843;
South Dura Dum, 14,108 ; Baduria, 12,981 ; Rajpore, 10,576 ; and
Barasat, 10,533. The administrative headquarters of the district
are at Alipur, a southern suburb of Calcutta. Rice forms the staple
crop of the district ; other crops are pulses, oil seeds, sugar-cane,
tobacco, &C. Its principal exports are rice, sugar, pan leaf, fish,
pottery, kc. ; the imports comprise pulses of all kinds, oil-seeds,
spices, turmeric, chillies, cloth, cotton, kc. The objects of the rural
iiianutactures are sugar, cotton curtains, brass and iron work, horn
sticks, and cotton and tosar silk cloth. The gross revenue of the
district in 1885-86 amounted to £338,895, of which the land-tax
contiibuted £155,181. The district was ceded to the East India
Company by treaty by the nawab naziui of Bengal in 1757. Since
then several changes have been made in its boundaries, the latest
in 1863.
TWICKENHAM, a town of Middlesex, England, is
sitviated on the north bank of the Thames and on the
London and South-Western Railway, 11 J miles south-west
of London by rail. It is a straggling and irregular town,
but has many fine suburban villas, and the district is noted
for its sylvan beauty. Opposite the tow-n there is an eyot
in the rive' about 8 acres in extent, called Eel Pie Island,
much resorted to by boating parties. The parish church
of St Mary was rebuilt in red brick in very plain style
after the fall of the old one in 1713, but the picturesque
western tower of the 14th century still remains. It con-
tains many interesting monuments, including one to Pope,
who was buried in the nave. The principal public build-
ings are the town-hall and assembly rooms (built in 1876,
and containing the free library established in 1882), the
economic museum, the royal naval female school for the
daughters of naval and marine officers, the Montpellier
lecture hall, the metropolitan and City of London police
orphanage, the almshouses of the London Carpenters' Com-
XXIIL — S5
674
T W I — T Y L
pany, and a branch of the national refuge for the homeless
and destitute. The population of the urban sanitary dis-
trict (area 2415 acres) in 1871 was 10,533, and in 1881
it was 12,479.
Twickenham at Domesday was included in Islewovtli. Anciently
it was called Twittenham or Twicanham. The manor was given
in 941 by King Edmund to the monks of Christ Church, Canter-
bury, from whom it had been previously taken, but it was again
iilicnateJ, for it was restored to the same monks by Edred in 94S.
In the reign of Henry VIII. it came into the possession of the
crown, and by Charles I. was assigned to Henrietta Maria as part
of her jointure. It was sold during the Protectorate, but after
the Restoration the queen mother resumed possession of it In
1670 it was settled for life on Catherine of^ Braganzd, queen of
Charles II. It still remains in possession of the crown, but since
the death of Catherine has beeu let on leases. In the neighbour-
liood are many residences of literary or historical interest. Pope's
villa, where he lived from 1717 till his death in 1744, has been
removed. Among old mansions of interest still remaining are
Strawberry Hill, the residence of Horace Walpole, now much
altered ; Marble Hill, built by George III. for the countess of
Suflbllt, and subsequently resided in by the marquis of Wellesley ;
Orleans House, buUt in the reien of Queen Anne by Johnstone,
occupied for some time by the duke of Orleans, and from 1879 to
1883 as a club house ; York House, said to have been the residence
of James II. when duke of York, bestowed by Charles II. on Lord
Clarendon when he married the duke of York's daughter, and, in
modern times resided in by the Comte de Paris ; and Twickenham
House, formerly the residence of Sir John Hawkins, author of
the Uistorij of Music, and the meeting place of the "Literary Club."
Of the old manor house of Twickenham, to which Catherine of
Aragon is said to have retired after her divorce from Henry VIII.,
and which was subsequently the residence of Catherine of Braganza,
queen of Charles II., the only remains are a ruin called the Aragon
tower. Twickenham Park House, for some time the residence of
Loril Chancellor Bacon, has been demolished.
TWILIGHT. The light of what is called the "sky"
depends upon the scattering or reflexion of direct sunlight
in the earth'? atmosphere, mainly if not entirely due to
those fine dust particles which (as we have recently learned)
form the necessary nuclei for condensation of aqueous
■vapour. Were it not for these particles the sky would
appear by day as it does in a clear winter night, and the
stars would be always visible. Alpine climbers and
aeronauts, when they have left the grosser strata of the
atmosphere below them, find this state of things approxi-
mated to ; and even at the sea-level the blue of the sky
is darker when the air contains but few motes. After the
Bun has set, its rays continue for a time to pass through
parts of the' atmosphere above the spectator's horizon, and
the scattered light from these is called twilight: It is, of
course, most brilliant in the quarter where the sun has set.
Before sunrise we have essentially the same phenomenon,
but it goes by the name of "da"Wn." The brilliancy of
either depends upon several conditions, of which the chief
is, of course, the degree by which the sun has sunk below
the horizon. But the amounlrof dust in the air affects the
phenomenon in two antagonistic ways: it diminishes the
amount of sunlight which reaches the upper air after pass-
ing close to the earth and it increases the fraction of this
light which i| scattered to form twilight. Hence no general
law can be laid down as to the duration of twilight ; but it
is usual to state (roughly) that it lasts until the sun is about
18" under the horizon. If we make this assumption, it is
a simple matter of calculation to solve questions as to the
duration of twilight at a given place at a given time of
year, the maximum duration of twilight at a given place,
(fee. In the older works on astronomy such questions wCTe
common enough, but they have now little beyond anti-
qtiarian interest. The more complex phenomena of twi-
light, such as the " after-glow,"' ifec, prob.ably depend upon
the precipitation of moisture on the dust particles as the
air becomes gradually colder. This will of course alter the
amount of scattering ; but it may also lead (by reflexion
from strata of such particles) to an increa.'^e in the amount
of light to be scatte"ai
TYCHO BRAHE. See Bhahe.
TYLDESLEY with SHAKERLEY, a town of Lan-
cashire, England, is situated on a considerable eminence,
11 miles west-north-west of Manchester and 199 north-west
of London (by the London and North-Western Railway).
The church of St George, a handsome building in the Early
Pointed style, erected in 1827, has lately undergone
restoration. Public baths were built in 187G. A public
cemetery was formed in 1878. The town is the growth
of the 19th century and depends upon its cotton-mills
and the large collieries in the neighbourhood. It is
governed by a local board of health of sixteen members.
The population of the urban sanitary district (area 2490
acres) in 1'871 was 6408 and in 1881 it was 9954.
At Domesday Tyldesley formed part of the manor of Warrington.
One of its proprietors, Sir Thomas Tyldesley, was a distinguished
Royalist. His son Edward in 1672 sold the manor to Ralph Astley,
and from the Astleys it passed in 1728 to Thomas Johnson of
Bolton. In 1823 it became the property of George Orinerod,
author of the History of Cheshire.
TYLER, John (1790-1862), tenth president of the
United States, was accustomed with pride, but with the
support of conjecture rather than evidence, to claim re-
lationship with Wat Tyler of the reign of Richard II.
The earliest of his American ancestors was Henry Tyler,
a reputed native of Shropshire, England, who in 1652
settled at Middle Plantation, Va., on the outskirts of
what is now the city of Williamsburg. John Tyler was
the son of Judge John Tyler, some time governor of
Virginia, and was born at Greenway in that State, 29th
March 1790. In 1802 he entered the grammar school of
William and Mary, where, though fond of fun and frolic
and cultivating an inherited taste for the violin the made
good progress in his studies. After graduating in 1806
he entered on the study of law, and in 1809 was called to
the bar, where his progress from the first was rapid. He
became a member of the State legislature in December
1811. In 1813 he raised a company in defence of Rich-
mond, in command of which he subsequently served with
the fifty-second regiment at Williamsburg and Providence
Forge. In December 1816 he was elected to the house
of representatives at Washington, where he displayed
much readiness and skill in debate as an uncompromising
advocate of popular rights. In 1825 he was elected
governor of Virginia by a large majority, and (he follow-
ing year was re-elect'ed unanimously. In 1827 he was
chosen a senator. He opposed Clay on the tariff" question
in 1832, delivering a speech against the protective duties
which lasted three days ; but he voted for Clay's Com-
promise Bill of 1833. He was.tlje only senator who voted
against the Force Bill on 20th February of this year, a
singularity of conduct which somewhat damaged his repu-
tation in Virginia. Although opposed to the establish-
ment of the United States Bank, he supported the resolu-
tions in 1835 censuring President Jackson for the removal
of the deposits, on the ground that the procedure was un-
constitutional. In consequence of a vote of the Virginia
legislature instructing him to vote for the expurgation of
these resolutions from the senate journal he resigned, 21st
February 1836. His action led the Whigs to bring him
forward as a candidate for the vice-presidency, but he
only received forty-seven votes. For some time after
this he ceased to take an active part in politics ; removing
in the end of the year from Gloucester to Williamsburg,
where he had better opportunities for legal practice, he
devoted his chief attention to his professional duties, kt
the Whig convention which met at Hanishurg, Penn-
sylvania, 4th December 1839, he was nominated again for
the vice-presidency on the Harrison ticket, and elected in
November 1840. On the death of Harrison, soon after
hi3 inauguration in 1841, Tyler succeeded him. His ele-
T Y N — T Y N
675
vatioD to the presidency was thus accidental in a double
sense, for he had been nominated for the vice-presidency
to reconcile the extreme faction. His policy in office (see
Umted States) was opposed to the party who nominated
him and was on Democratic lines. In 1845 he was suc-
ceeded by Polk, and he spent the remainder of his life in
retirement from active duties. He was nominated in 1861
for the lower house of the permanent congress, but died
at Richmond on the 18th of the foUowmg January.
See L. G. Tyler, Lifi. and Times of the TyUrs, 2 vols., 1884.
TYNDALE, WnxiAM (c. H84-1536), translator of the
New Testament and Pentateuch (see English Bible, vol.
vTii. pp. 384, 385), was born in Gloucestershire, possibly
in the parish of Slimbridge, about the year 1484. • Of his
early education nothing is known , about his twentieth,
year he went to Oxford, where tradition has it that he
was entered of Magdalen Hall. He afterwards resided
at Cambridge. Ordained to the priesthood, probably
towards the close of 1521, he entered the hoasehold of
Sir John Walsh, Little Sodbury, Gloucestershire, in the
capacity of chaplain and domestic tutor. Here he spent
two years, and In the course of his private studies began
to contemplate seriously the work of translating the New
Testament into English. His sympathy with the " new
learning," which he had not concealed in conversation
with the higher clergy of the neighbourhood at Sir John's
table, led to his being summoned before the chancellor of
Worcester as a suspected heretic ; and " with the goodwill
of his master" he left for London in the summer of 1523.
There he preached a little at St Dunstan-in-the-West,
and worked at his translationj living for some months in
the house of Humphrey Monmouth, an alderman ; but
finding publication impossible in England he sailed for
Hamburg in May 1524. After visiting Luther at Witten-
berg, he settled in Cologne, where he made some progress
with a quarto edition of his New Testament, when the
interference of the authorities of the to^vn compelled his
flight to Worms. The octavo edition (see vol. viii. p. .
384) was here completed in 1526. Where TyndSle resided
in the interval between 1526 and 1530 — the year of publica-
tion of his translation of the Pentateuch — is not kno\vn ;
his Parable of the Wicked Mammon (1527), Obedience of a
Christian Man (1528), and Practice of Prelates (1530), all
bear to have been printed at " Marlborowe in the land of
Hesse " or " Marborch." From 1530 onwards he^ppears
to have lived chiefly in Antwerp, but of his life there
hardly, anything is recorded, except that as a marked man
he was continually the subject of plots and intrigues, and
that at last he was arrested and thrown into prison in the
castle of Vilvorde, some six miles from Brussels, in 1535.
Having been found guilty of heresy, he was put to Icath
by strangling, and his body afterwards burnt at the stake
on October 6, 1536. i
The IVorks of Tyndale were first published along with those of
Fkith (j.u) and Barnes, "three worthy Slartyrs and principal
Te.-ichers of the Church of England," by John Daye, in 1573 (folio).
His Doctrinal Treatises and {niroductions to Different Portions of
Ihe Holy Scripture were published by the Parker Society in 1848.
For biography, see Demans, William, Tyndale (London, •1871) ;
also the Introduction to Mombert's critical reprint of Tyndale's
Pentateuch (New York, 1884), where a full bibliography is given.
There seems no reason to doubt that the translation of Joshua,
Judges, Samuel, Kings, and Chronicles in^Matthew's Bible is sub-
stantially the work of Tyndale.
TYNE, a river in the north-east of England, is formed
of two branches, the North Tyne, rising in the Cheviots
on the borders of Roxburgh, and the South Tyne, rising
at Tynehead Fell, at the south-esistern extremity of Cumber-
land. The North Tyne flows south-eastwards by Belling-
ham, a short distance below which it receives the Rede
irom the north, and 2 miles above Hexham it is joined by
[the South Tyne, which before the jimction flows north-
ward to Haltwhistle, and then eastward, receiving the
Allen from the right a short distance above Haydon
Bridge. The united streams then have a course of about
30 miles eastwards to the sea at Tynemouth. For a con-
siderable part of its course the Tyne flows through a
pleasant and richly cultivated country, but in its lower
reaches the presence of coal pits has almost completely
robbed the scenery of its natural charms, and the former
sylvan retreats of monks and abbots are now occupied by
blast furnaces and shipbuilding yards, and similar scenes
of busy industry, which line both banks of the river from
Newcastle to the sea. The river is navigable to Blaydou
for small craft, and to Newcastle, 8 miles frogi its mouth,
for large vessels.
The coal trade of the Tyne is the most important in England,
and for its general shipping trade the river ranks next in impoit-
ance to the Thames and the Mersey. The piincipal ports are
Newcastle and North and South Shields, but below Newcastle the
river is everywhere studded vdih piers and jetties. About a
seventh of the whole tonnage of vessels built in England is biiilt
on the Tyne, the most important works being. those of Jairow.
For boat-racing the Tyne vies in celebrity with the Thames.
TYNEMOUTH, a municiparand parliamentary borough
of England, in Northumberland, includes the townships of
Chirton, CuUercoates, North ShiSlds, Preston, and Tyne-
•mouth." This last, the principal watering-place on this
part of the coast, is picturesquely situated on a promontory
on the north side of the Tyne at its mouth. It is connected
with Newcastle, 8 miles to the west-south-west, by a branch
of the North-Eastern Railway ; its distance from London
is 273| miles by rail. The town has rapidly increased
within recent years, and contains many weU-built streets,
squares, and villas. On the point of the promontory there
is a small battery called the Spanish battery, and near it a
monument has been erected to Lord Collingwood. Within
the grounds to which the gateway of the old castle gives
entrance are the ruins of the ancient priory of St Mary
and St Oswin — the principal remains being those of the,
church. A pier, half a mile long, serves as a breakwater
to the harbour. Among the principal public buildings are
the assembly rooms and the aquarium (1872). The muni-
cipal buildings of the borough of Tynemouth are situated
ia North Shields, where are also the custom house, a
master mariners' home, a seamen's institute, and a sailors''
home founded by the late duke of Northumberland.
Shipbuilding is carried on, and there are rope and sail
works. The fish trade is of considerable importance and
employs several steam and sailing boats. The population
of the municipal and parliamentary borough of Tynemouth
(incorporated in 1849 ; area 4303 acres), divided- into the
three wards of North SWeld's, Percy, and Tynemouth, was
38,941 in 1871, and 44;ri8 in 1881.
Tynemouth was a fortress of the Saxons, and was anciently known
as Penbal Crag, "the head of the rampart on the rock." From
remains found in 1783 it is supposed to have been a Roman station.
The first church was built of wood by Edwin, king of Nort limbria,
about 625, and was rebuilt in stone by his successor Oswald in 634.
TJie body of Oswin, king of Deira, was brought hither for burial
in 651, and on this account Tynemouth came to be in great repute
as a place of burial both fur royal .and ecclesiastical persons. The
monastery was repeatedly plundered and burnt by the Danes,
especially during the 9th century. After its destruction- by
Healfdeane in 876 it was rebuilt by 'Tostig, earl of Northumberland,
who endowed it with considerable revenue ; but, having been
granted in 1074 to the monks of Jarrow, it becaine a ceil of Durham.
Malcolm III., king of the Scots, and his son Edward, who were
slain in battle .it Alnwick on 13th November 1093, were both in-
terred in the monastery. In 1095 Earl Mowbray, having entered
into a conspiracy against 'William Rufus, converted the monastery
into a castle, which he strongly fortified. By Wilfiam Rufus the
priory was conferred on St Albans abbey, Hertfordshire. It naa
surrendered to Henry VIII. on 12th Jannary 1539, and the site
and remains were granted by Edward VI. "in 1550 to the earl of
Warwick, aftenvirds duke of Northumberland. In 1644 the
castle was taken by the Scots under the earl of Leven. The town
enjoyed various immunities at a very early period, which were
676
T Y P — T Y P
[tvphcs
ITcais-
posing
and ex-
citing
■i-aiises.
•ftcnvards the subject of some dispute. Edward I. restored to it
several free customs of which it had been deprived. Afterwards it
received a confirmation of its various former charters by Edward
II. and Richard II.
TVPE-FOUNDING. See Typography.
TYPEWRITING. See Writing Machines.
TYPHON.orTYPHOEOS, son, according to iies,iod(Theoff.,
820 sq.), of the Earth and Tartarus, is described as a grisly
monster with a hundred dragons' heads who was conquered
and cast into Tartarus by Zeus. According to Iliad ii. 282,
be lies in the land of the Arimi (Cilicia). Other legends
place his prison under ^tna or in other volcanic regions
and make him the cause of eruptions. The myth, there-
fore, as we have it, rests on a personification of volcanic
forces. He is the father of dangerous winds (typhoons),
and by later writers is identified with the Egyptian Set
(see vol. vii. p. 717).
TYPHUS, TYPHOID, and RELAPSING FEVERS.
These are conveniently considered together, as they con-
stitute the important class of continued fevers, having
certain characters in common, although each is clearly dis-
tinguishable from the others. The following is a general
account of the more salient features of each.
TYPH0S Fever.
Typhus* is a continued fever of highly contagious nature,
lasting for about fourteen days and characterized mainly by
great prostration of strength, severe nervous symptoms, and
a peculiar eruption on the skin. It has received numerous
other names, such as spotted, pestilential, putrid, jail,
hospital fever, &c. It appears to have been known for many
centuries as a destructive malady, frequently appearing in
epidemic form, in all countries in Europe, under the con-
ditions to be afterwards referred to. The best accounts
of the disease are those given by English writers, who
narrate its ravages in towns and describe many " black
assizes," in which it was communicated by prisoners
brought into court to the judges, jurymen, court-ofEcials,
<tc., with fatal effect, . pi oducing oftentimes a widespread
consternation. Typhus fever would seem to have been
observed in almost all parts of the world ; but, although
not unknown in warm countries, it has most frequently
prevailed in temperate or cold climates.
The causes concerned in its production include both the
predisposing and the exciting. Of the former the most
powerful of all are those influences which lower the health
of a community, especially overcrowding and poverty.
Hence this fever is most frequently found to affect the
poor of large cities and towns, or to appear where large
numbers of persons are living crowded together in unfavour-
able hygienic conditions, as has often been seen in prisons,
workhouses, &c. Armies in the field arc also liable to suffer
from this disease ; for instance, during the Crimean War
it caused an enormous mortality among the French troops.
Some high authorities, including Dr Murchison, have
held that such conditions as those referred to are capable
of generating typhus fever by themselves, and the apparent
occasional de novo origin of this disease has doubtless the
support of many striking facts which would appear to
favour this view (see Pathology, vol. xviii. p. 803). In
the light, however, of recent researches into the relation
of specific disease germs to the production of fevers and
other infectious maladies, there Is increasing difficulty in
maintaining this position ; and the direction of opinion
is decidedly towards the view that, however much insani-
tary conditions and overcrowding act as causes predispos-
ing to the reception of the disease, the introduction into
the system of a living organism or germ is necessary to
the manifestation of the phenomena of the fever. Never-
theles.? no specific organism has yet been clearly identified
' From rutpoi, smoke or niist, iu allusioii to the stupor of the disease.
in the case of typhus fever. This disease is now much less
frequently encountered in medical practice than fonncily,
— a fact which must mainly be ascribed to the groat
attention which in recent times has been directed to
improvement in the sanitation of towns, especially to the
opening up of crowded localities so as to allow the free
circulation through them of fresh air. In most large
cities, however, limited epidemic outbursts of the disease
occur from time to time, under the conditions of over-
crowding and poverty, although the increased facilities
possessed by local authorities for recognizing such out-
breaks, and for the prompt isolation or removal of infected
persons to hospitals, operate in general effectually to
prevent any extensive spread of the fever. All ages are
liable to typhus, but the young suffer less severely than the
old. The disease appears to be communicated by the ex-
halations given off from the bodies of those suffering from
the fever, and those most closely in contact with the sick
are most apt to suffer. This is shown by the frequency
with which nurses and physicians take typhus from cases
under their care. As in all infectious maladies, there is
often observed in typhus a marked proclivity to si.iffer in
the case of individuals, and in -.such instances very slight
exposure to the contagion may convey the disease. Typhus
is highly contagious throughout its whole course and even
in the early period of convalescence. The contagion, how-
ever, is rendered less active by the access of fresh air; hence
this fever rarely spreads in well-aired rooms or houses
where cases of the disease are under treatment. As a rule
one attack of typhus confers immunity from risk of others,
but numerous exceptions have been recorded.
The course of typhus fever is characterized by certain Course
well-marked stages. (1) The stage of incubation, or theoftli*
period elapsing between the reception of the fever poison ^^^^'
into the system and the 'manifestation of the special
evidence of the disease, is believed to vary from a week to
ten days. During this time, beyond feelings of languor,
no particular symptoms are exhibited. (2) The invasion
of the fever is in general-well marked and severe, in the
form of a distinct rigor, or of feelings of chilliness lasting
for hours, and a sense of illness and prostration, together
with headache of a distressing character and sleeplessness.
Feverish symptoms soon appear and the temperature of
the body rises to a considerable height (103°-105° Fahr.),
at which it continues with but little daily variation until
about the period of the crisis. It is, however, of import-
ance to observe certain points connected with the tem-
perature during the progress of this fever. Thus about
the "seventh day the acme of the fever heat has been
reached, and a slight subsidence (1° or less) of the tem-
il lylT^y^nW .1
= ■" ^ " -/ ^i
\r 7 =
'^IT ^ ""
'< d. ^^ \
= - 7 '
■rv. . jOZ ' " • ■• " -is±.
Temperature cliart of tjphus fever,
perature takes place in favourable cases, and no further
subsequent rise beyond this lowered level occurs. WTien
it is otherwise, the case often proves a severe one. Again,
when the fever has advanced towards the end of the second
week, slight falls of temperature are often observed, prior
to the extensive descent which marks the attainment of
the crisis. The pulse in typhus fever is rapid (100-120
I
revEK.]
T Y P — T Y P
677
or more) and at Srst fml, but later on feeble. Its condi-
tion as indicating the strength of tbe heart's action is
watched with anxiety. The tongue, at first coated with a
white fur, soon becomes bro\vn and dry, while sordes (dried
mucus, ic.) accumulate upon the teeth ; the appetite is
gone and intense thirst prevails. The bowels are as a rule
constipated, and the urine is diminished in amount and
high-coloured. The physician on examination may make
»ut distinct enlargement of the spleen. (3) The third
itage is characterized by the appearance of the eruption
which generally shows itself about the fourth or fifth day
or later, and consists of dark red (miilberry coloured) spots
or blotches varying in size from mere points to three or
four lines in diameter, very slightly elevated above the
skin, at first disappearing on pressure, but' tending to
become both darker in hue and more permanent. They
appear chiefly on the abdomen, sides, back, and limbs,
and occasionally on the face. Besides this, the character-
istic typhus rash, there is usually observed a general faint
mottling all over the surface. The typhus rash is rarely
absent and is a very important diagnostic of the disease.
In the more severe and fatal forms of the fever, the rash
has all through a very dark colour, and slight subcutaneous
hsemorrhages (peUchise) are to be seen in abundance. After
the appearance of the eruption the patient's condition
seems to be easier, so far as regards the headache and
discomfort which marked the outset of the symptoms ;
but this is also to be ascribed to the tendency to pass into
the typhous stupor which supervenes about this time, and
becomes more marked throughout the course of the second
week. The patient now lies on his back, with a dull dusky
countenance, an apathetic or stupid expression, and con-
tracted pupils. All tbe febrile symptoms already mentioned
are fully developed, and delirium, usually of a low muttering
kind, but sometimes wild and maniacal {delirium ferox) is
present both by night and day. The peculiar condition to
which the term " coma vigil " is applied, m which the
patient, though quite unconscious, lies with eye* widely
open, is regarded, especially if persisting for any length of
time, as an unfavourable omen. Throughout the second
week of the attack the symptoms continue unabated ; but
there is in addition great prostration of strength, the pulse
becoming very feeble, the breathing shallow and rapid,
and often accompanied with bronchial sounds. (4) A
criiis or favourable change takes place about the end of
the second or beginning of the third week (on an average
tbe 1-lth day), and is marked by a more or less abrupt
fall of the temperature (vide chart) and of the pulse,
together with slight perspiration, a discharge of loaded
urine, the refum of moisture to the tongue, and by a
change in the patient's look, which clears up and shows
signs of returning intelligence. Although the sense of
weakness is extreme, convalescence is in general steady
and comparatively rapid.
Typhus fever may, licivever, prove fatal daring any stage of its
prOCTess and in the early convalescence, either from sudden failure
of ^le heart's action — a condition which i5 specially apt to arise —
from the supervention of some nervous symptoms, such as meningitis
or of deepening coma, or from some other complication, such as
bronchitis. Further, a fatal result sometimes takes place before
the crisis frota sheer exhaustion, particularly in the case of those
whose physical or nervous energies liave been lowered by hard
work, inadequate nourishment and sleep, or intemperance, in all
which conditions tjphos fever is apt to assume an uuusually
Eerions form.
Occasionally troublesome sequels remain behind for a greater or
less length of time as the effects of the fever. Among these may be
mentioned mental weakness or irritability, occasionally some form
of paralysis, an inflamed condition of the Ivmphatic vessels of one leg
(the swelled leg of fever), prolonged weakness and ill health, &c.
Gradual improvement, however, may be confidently anticipated
and even ultimate recovery.
Mor- The mortality from typhus fever is estimated bv Slorchison and
tality. others as averaging about 13 per cent, of the cases, but it varies
much according to the severity of type {particularly in epidemics),
the previous health and habits of the individual, and very specially
the age,— the proportion of deaths being in striking relation to
the advance of life. Thus, while in children under fifteen the
death-rate is only 5 per cent., ui pei-sous over fifty it is about 46
per cent.
The treatment of typhus fever includes the prophvlactic measures Treat-
of attention to the sanitation of the more densely populated por- ment.
tions of towns. The opening up of cross streets int«rB«ctin<T those
which are close -built and narrow, whereby fresh air is" freely
admitted, has done much to banish typhus fever from districts ■
where previously it was endemic. Further, the enforcement of
the law regulating the number of persons accommodated in common
lodging-houses, and the application of the powers now vested in
local authorities for dealing with cases of overcrowding everywhere,
and for isolation and treatment of the infected, have had a lie
salutary effect. Where typhus has broken out in a crowded dis-
trict the prompt removal of the patients to a fever hospital and the
thorough disinfection and cleansing of the infected houses are to be
recommended. Where, on the o'.licr hand, a single case of acci-
dentally caught typhus occurs in a member of a family inhabiting
a well-aired house, the chance of it being communicated to other*
in the dwelling is but small ; nevertheless every precaution in tb»
way of isolation and disinfection should be taken.
The treatment of a typhus patient is conducted upon the same
general principles as have been illustrated in other fevers (see
SCAKLET Fever, Smallpox). Complete isolation should be main-
tained throughout the illness, and the services of a day and a night
nurse procured, who should keep a strict watch and preserve a record
of the temperature and other observations, the times of feeding and
the form of nourishment administered, as well as every other fact
noticed, for the physician's information. Due attention should be
given to tbe ventilation and cleansing of the sick chamber. The
main clement in the treatment of this fever is good nursing, and
especially the regular administration of nutriment, of which the best
form is milk, although light plain soup may also be given. The
food should be administered at stated intervals, not, as a rule,
oftener than once in one and a half or two hours, and it will fre-
quently be necessary to rouse the patient from his stupor for this
purpose. Sometimes it is impossible to administer food by the
mouth, in which case recourse must be had to nutrient enemata.
Alcoholic stimulants are not often required, except in the case of
elderly and weakly persons who have become greatly exhausted by
the attack and are threatening to collapse. The best indication for
theu use is that furnished by the condition of the circulation : when
the pulse shows unsteadiness and undue rapidity, and the first
sound of the heart is but indistinctly heard by the stethoscope,
the prompt ad-Timistration of stimulants (of which the best form
is pure spirit) \rill often succeed in averting danger. Should their
use appear to increase the restlessness or delirium they should be
discontinued and the diUusible (ammoniacal or ethereal) forms
tried instead.
Many other symptoms demand special treatment. The headache^
which |H;rsists for days at the commencement and is with many a
very distressing symptom, may be mitigated by removing the hair
and applying cold tu the heaiL The sleeplessness, with or without
delirium, may be combate^l by quietness, Dy a moderately darkened
room (although a distinclion between day and night should be made
as regards the amount of admitted light), and by soothing and
gentle dealing on the part uf the nurse. Opiate and sedative
mtdicines in any form, although recommended by many high
authorities, must be given with great caution, as their use is often
attended with danger in this fever, where coma is apt to supervene.
^\^len resorted to. probably the safest form is a combination of the
bromide of potassium or ammonium with a guarded amount of
chloral. The writer has seen alarming effects follow the administra-
tion of opiup- Occasionally the deep stupor calls for remedies to
rouse the patient, and these may be employed lu the form of mustard
or cahtharides to the surface icalves of legs, najie of neck, over
region of heart, ic ), of the cold alfusion. or of enemata containin"^
tu:(ientine. The height of the temperature may be a serious
syiiptoni, and antipyretic remedies appear to have but a slight influ-
ence over it as compaied to that which they possess in tvphoid fever,
acute rheumatism, 4:c. The cold bath treatment, which has been
recommended, cannot be carried out without serious risk to hfe in
the necessary movement of the patient. It is a well-rccognizcJ
rule that persons suffering from typhiu, fever ought not tc bs moved
up in bed for any purpose after the first few days. Cold sponging
of the hands and feet and exposed parts, or cold to the head, may
often considerably lower the temperature. Throughout the whole
progress of a case the condition of the bladder requires special
attention, owin" to the patient's drowsiness, and the regular use
of the catheter Decomcs, as a rule, necessary with the advanoe of
the symptoms.
The complications and results of this fever fall to be dealt with
according to the methods of treatment applicable to their character
and extent.
678
T Y P — T Y P
[typhoid
Typhoid ok Esteric Fever.
Typlioid or enteric fever ((I'Tcpov, the intestine) is a con-
tinued fever characterized mainly by its insidious onset, by
a peculiar course of the temperature, by marked abdominal
symptoms occurring in connexion with a specific lesion of
the bowels, by an eruption upon the skin, by its uncertain
duration, and by a liability to relapses.
This fever has received various names, such as gastric
fever, abdominal typhus, infantile remittent, fever, slow
fever, nervous fever, &c. Dr Murchison, in reference to its
supposed origin in putridity, uses the term "pythogenic
fever," but this designation has not been generally adopted.
Up till a comparatively recent period typhoid was not dis-
tinguished from typhus fever For, although it had been
noticed that the course of the disease and its morbid ana-
tomy were different from those of ordinary cases of typhus,
it was believed I hat they merely represented a variety of
that malady. The distinction between the two diseases
appears to have been first accurately made in 1836 by
Messrs Gerhard and Pennock of Philadelphia, and still
more fully demonstrated by Dr A. P Stewart of Glasgow
(afterwards of London). Subsequently all doubt upon the
subject was removed by the careful clinical and pathological
observations made by Sir William .Jenner at the London
Natnre fever hospital (1849-51). A clear distinction has been
"f . established between the two fevers, not only as regards their
typhoid piignomena or morbid features, but equally as regards their
origin. While typhus fever is a disease of overcrowding
and poverty, typhoid may occur where such conditions are
entirely excluded ; and the connexion of this malady with
specific emanations given off from decomposing organic or
faeculent matters, or with contamination of food or water
by the products of the disease, is now almost universally
admitted. Alike in sporadic cases and in extensive epidemic
outbreaks the existence of insanitary conditions in house
drainage, water supply, &c., can in the majority of instances
be made out. The question whether such conditions alone
will suffice to beget this fever — or, in other words, its de
novo origin — has, as in the case of typhus, been much dis-
cussed, and an affirmative opinion expressed by some high
authorities. But the same remark must again be made as
to the difficulties in the way of maintaining such a position
in view of the evidence of the oart played by microbes in
infective processes.
Caastj nf That all insanitary conditions in respect of drainage of
it" oat- bouses and localities furnish the most ready means for the
''"~'''- introduction of the contagion of typhoid there is a general
agreement, as there is equally that the most certain means
of preventing its appearance or spread are those which
provide a thoroughly trustworthy and secure drainage, a
eafe method of disposal of sewage, and a pure and abundant
water supply. Typhoid fever is much less directly com-
municable from the sick to the healthy than typhus. The
infective agent appears to reside in the discharges from the
bowels, in which, particularly when exposed and under-
going decomposition, the contagium seems to multiply and
to acquire increased potency. Thus in sewers, drains, &c.,
in association with putrefying matter, it may increase in-
definitely, and by the emanations given off from' such de-
composing material accidentally escaping into houses, or
by the contamination of drinking water in places where
wells or cisterns are exposed to faecal or sewage pollution,
the contagion is conveyed. Of the precise nature of the
contagious principle we have as yet no full information,'
but there appears to be strong reason for believing that^a
specific microbe or organism plays a part in the propagation
of tbc disease. Still it is obvious that for its successful
* A bacillus frequently noUced in cert,iiu tissues iu cases of typlioiil
fever has not yet been satisfactorily proved to be an organism ch.aracter-
istic of that disease, nor even lo be ron.^tantly present.
implantation in and effect upon the System a peculiar con-
dition of preparedness or receptivity to the morbific agent
must be presupposed to exist in the individual, regarding
which also our knowledge is of the vaguest. There is
abundant evidence that one of the vehicles for the con-
veyance of the contagion is food, especially milk, wiiicb may
readily become contaminated with the products of the disease
where an outbreak of the fever has occurred in a dairy.
Typhoid fever is most common among the young, the majority
of the cases occurring between the ages of fifteen and twenty-five
(Murchison). But children of any age may suffer, as may also,
though mort rarely, peminsu or Iwyond middle life. It is of as
frequent occurrence among tTie well-to-do as among the poor. Th9
greater number of cases appear to occur in autumn. In all countries
this fever seems liable to prevail ; and, while some of its features
may be. modified by climate and locality, its main characters and
its results are essentially the same everywhere. (
The more important phenomena of typhoid fever will be better {"atho-
understood by a brief reference to the principal pathological changes logical
which take place during the disease. These relate for the most part changes
to the intestines, in which the morbid processes are highly character- of
istic, both as to their nature and their locality. The changes (to typhoid-
be presently specified) are evidently the result of the action of the
contagium on the sj'stem, and they begin to show themselves from
the very commencement of the fever, passing through various stages
during its continuance. The portion of the bowels in which they
occur most abundantly is the lower part of the small intestine
(ileum), where the "solitary glands " and '* Peyer's patches " on the
mucous surface of the canal become affected by diseased action of a
definite and piogressive character, which stands in distinct relation
to the symptoms exhibited by the patient in the course of the fever.
(1) These glands, which in health are comparatively indistinct,
Ijecome in the commencement of the fever enlarged and prominent
by infiltration due to inflammatory action in their substance, and
consequent cell proliferation. This change usually affects a large
exte'nt of the ileum, .but is more marked in the lower portion near
tbe ileo-c«cal valve (see Anatomy). It is generally held that this is
the condition of the parts during the first eight or ten days of the
fever. (2) These enlarged glands next umJergo a process of slough-
ing, tbe inflammatory products being cast off either in fragments or
en masse. This usually takes place in the second week of the fever.
(3) Ulcers are thus formed varying in size according to the glatid
masses which have sloughed away. They may be few or many in
number, and they exhibit certain characteristic appearances. Thus
they are frequently, but not always, oblong in shape, mth their lone
axis in that of the bowel, and they have somewhat thin" and raggen
edges. They may extend through the thickness of the intestine to
the peritoneal coat and in their progress erode blood-vessels or per-
forate the bowel. This stage of ulceration exists from the second
week onwards during the remaining period of the fever, and even
into the stage of convalescence. (4) In most instances these ulcers
heal by cicatrization, leaving, however, no contraction of the calibre
of the bowel. This stage of healing evidently occupies a consider-
able time, since the process does not advance at an equal rate in
the case of all the ulcers, some of which have been later in forming
than others. Even when convalescence has been apparently com-
pleted, some unhealed ulcers may yet remain and prove, particularly
in connexion with errors in diet, a cause of relapse of some of the
symptoms, and even of still more serious or fatal consequences.
The mesenteric glands external to, but in functional relation with, ,
the intestine, become enlarged during the progress of the fever, but ■
usually subside after recovery.
Besides these changes, which are well recognized, others more or
less important are often present. Among these may be mentioned
one which the present writer has repeatedly observed in the severs
and- protracted forms of this fever, namely, marked atrophy, thin-
iiing, and softness of the coats of the intestines, even after the
ulcers have healed,— a condition which may not improbably be the
cause .of that long- continued impairment of the function of the
bowels so often complained of by persons who have passed through
an attack of typhoid fev.er. Other changes common to biost fevers
are also to be observed, such as softening of the muscular tissues
generally, and particularly of tire heart, and evidences of complica-
tions affecting chest or other organs, which not unfreqiiently arise.
The swelleil leg of fever sometimes follows typhoid, as does also
periosteal inflammation.
The symptoms characterizing the onset of typhoid fever are very Progress
much less marked than those of most other fevers, and the disease of the
in the majority of instances sets in somewhat insidiously. Indeed, disease,
it is no uncommon thing for patients with this fever to go about
for a considerable time after its action has begun. The most marked
of the early symptoms are headache, lassitn.h', and discomfort, to-
gcth.>r with sh'cplessness and feverishness, particularly at night ;
this last symi.loiii is that bv which the disease is most readily de-
tected in its ciilv stages. The peculiar course of the tcmpciature
FEVEB.J
T Y P — T Y F
679
is aho one of tlic most important Jiagnostic evidences of this fever.
During the first week it luis a morning range of moderate febrile
rise, but in the evening there is a marked ascent, with a fall again
towards morning, each morning and evening, however, showing
respectively a higher point than that of the previous day, until
about the eighth day, when in an average case the liighest point
is attained. This varies according to the severity of the atuck ;
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Temperature chart of typhoid fever.
but
; it is no unusual thing to register 104° or 105° Fahr. in the even-
ing and 103° or 104° in the morning. During the second week the
daily range of temporatnie is comparatively small, a slight moining.
reraission being all that is observed. In the third week the same
«oiiditioii continues more or less ; but frequently a slight tendency
to lowering may be iliscerneil, particularly in the morning tempera-
ture, and the febrile action gi-adnally di,js down ns a rule between
the twenty-first and twenty-eighth days, although it is liable to
recur iii the fonn of a relapse. Althoiigh the patient may, dtirin"
the earlier days of the fever, be able to move about, he feels l.inguiS
and u.iojsy ; and usually before the first weeV.is over he has to take
to bed, and soon the eflects of the attack hccoine more apparent.
He is restless, hot, and uncomfortable, particularly as the day ad-
vances, and his checks show a ted (lush, especially in the evening
or after taking food. The aspect, however, is different from the
.oppressed stupid look which is present in typhus, and more resem-
bles the appearance of hoctic. The pulse in an ordinary ca.se, al-
though more rapid than normal, is not accelerated to an extent
corresponding to the height of the temperature, and is,at least
in the earlier stages of the fever, i-aiely above 100°. In sevcie and
rrotracte<l ca.ses, where there is evid'ence of extensive intestinal
iileeration, tlje pulse bec^jines rapid and weak, with a dicrotic char-
acter indicative of cardiac feebleness. The tongue has at first a
thin whitish fur and is red at the tip and edges. It tends, however,
to become dry, brown or glazed looking, and fissured transversely,
wh:ie sonics may be present about the lips and teeth. There is much
thirst and in some cases vomiting. Splenic and hepatic enlarge-
ment maj be made out. From an early period in the disease abdo-
minal symptoms show themselves with gi-eater or less distinctness
.ind are frequently of highly ilia^nostic significance. The abdomen
is somewhat distended or tumid, and pain accompanying some
gurgling sounds may be elicited on light pressure about the lower
part of the right side close to the groin,— the region corresponding
to that portion of the intestine in which the morbid changes already
i-efen-ed to are progressing. Diarrhcea is a frequent b"nt by.no means
constant symptom. When present it may be slight in amount, or,
on the other hand, extremely profuse, and it conesponSs as a rule
to the severity ol the intestinal ulceration. The discharges are
highly characteristic, being of light yellow colour reseinblin" pea
soup in appearance. Should intestinal h;emonh.age occur, asTs not
iinfrequently the case during some stage of the fcvei , they may be
dark brown, or composed entirely of blood. The mine is scanty
and high-colouied. About the beginning, or duiing the course of
the second week of the fever, an eruption frequently makes its
appearance on the skin. Jt consists of isolated spots, oval or round
«n shape, ol a pale jiink or ro.se colour, and of about one to one and
a naif lines in diameter. They are seen chiefly upon the abdomen
chest, and hack, and they come out in crops, which continue for
four or five days and then fade away. At first they are slightly
«Icvatcd, and disappear on pressure. In some cases th.y are very
few in number, and their i.re,sencc is made out with difficulty ; but
in others they are numerous and sometimes show themselves upon
tHe liiiibs as well as upon the body. They do not appear to have
any relation to the severity of the attack, and in a very consider-
able proportion of cases (particularly in children) they are entirely
absent. Besides this eruption there are not iinfrequently numer-
ons very faint bluish patches or blotches abuit half an inch in
diameter, chiefly upon the body and thighs. \Ylien present the
rose-coloured spots continue to come out in crops till nearly the
end of ths fever, and they may reappear should a relapse subse-
quently occur. These various symptoms persbt throughout the
trura week, usually, however, increasing in intensity. The patient
becomes prostrate and emaciated ; the tongue is dry and brown the
pulse quickened and feeble, and the abdominal symptoms more
Boarked ; wlule nenous disturbance is e-xhibited in dcUrium, in
tremors and jerkings of iTie muscles {subsullus kndinum), in drowsi-
ness, and occasionally in "coma vigil." In severe cases the ex-
haustion reaches an extreme degree, although even in such instances
the condition is not to be regarded as hopeless. In favourable cases
a change for the better may be anticipated between the twenty-first
and twenty-eighth days, more usually the latter. It does.not, how-
ever, take place as in typhus by a well-inarkcd crisis, but rather
by what is termed a "lysis" or gradual subsidence of the febrile
symptoms, especially noticeable in the daily decline of both
morning and evening temperature, the lessening of dianhcea, and im-
provement in pulse, tongue, Lc. Convalescence proceeds slowly and
is apt to be interrupted by relapses (duo not unliequently to errors
in diet), which are sometimes as severe and prolonged as the original
attack, and are attended with equal or even greater risks. Should
such relapses repeat themselves, the case may be protracted for two
or three months, but tliis is comparatively rare.
Death in typhoid fever usually takes place from one or other X)f Can.ses .if
the following causes. (1) Exhaustion, in the second or third weeks, death m
or later. The attending symptoms are increasing emaciation, weak- typhoi 1
iicss of the pulse, and cadaveric aspect. Sometimes sinking is
sudden, partaking of some of the characters of a collapse. (2)
Hx'inori hage from the intestines. The evidence of this is exhibited,
not only in the evacuations, but in the sudden fall of temperature
and rise in pulse-rate, together with great pallor, faintness, and rapid
sinking. Sometimes hfemorrhage, to a dangerous and even fatal
cttent, takes place from the nose. (3) Perforation of an intestinal
nicer. This gives rise, as a ruli to sudden and intense abdominal
pain, together with vomiting and signs of collapse, viz., a rapid
flickering pulse, cold clammy skin, and the marked fall of tempera-
ture. Symptoms of peritonitis (sec Peritonitis) quickly supervene
and add to the patient's distress. Death usually takes place within
24 hours. Occasionally peritonitis, apart from perforation, is the
cause of death. (4) Occasionally, but rarely, hyperpyrexia (excessive
fever). (5) Complications, such as pulmonary or cerebral inflamma-
tion, bedsores, &c
Certain sequelae are sometimes obser^■ed, the most important
being the swelled leg, periostitis affecting long bones, general ill-
health, and anaemia, with digestive difficulties, often lasting for a
long time, and sometimes issuing in phthisis. Occasionally, after
severe ■cases, mental weakness is noticed, but it is usually of com-
paratively short duration.
The mortality in typhoid fever varies with the character of the Mor-
outbreak, the general health and surroundings of the individuals tality.
attacked, an4 other conditions. At one time it was regarded as,
on an average, about the same as that of typhus ; but ullder modern
methods of treatment the chances of recovery are much greater, and
the dea'th-rate may be stated as about 12 per cent, or perhaps some-
what less.
The treatment embraces those prophylactic measures which aim Treat-
at preventing the escape of sewer gases into dwelling-houses by ment.
careful attention to the drainage and plumber-work, and also secure
an abundant supply of pure water for domestic use (see Hygiene,
Sewerage, and Ventilation). When an outbreak of the fever
occurs in a family, all such matters should be specially inquired
into, ,and the sources of milk supply carefully scrutinized. The
discharges from the bowels of the typhoid patient should be at once
disinfected with carbolic acid or other similar agent, and the gieatest
care taken as to their disposal, witli the view of obviating any risk
of contamination of drinking-water, &e. The general management
is conducted upon the same principles as are observed in the case
of typhus, except that in typhoid fever very special care is neces-
sary in regard to diet, llilk, the gieat value of which as a fever-
food was first clearly set forth by Pi of. Gairdner, is of eminent
service in typhoid, but it must be administered with due regard to
time and to the digestive powers of the patient. When given too
frequently or in too great quantity it may, by its imperfect digestion,
prove a source of irritation to the bowels. Even when given with
every care it may fail to agree, as is proved by the presence of im-
digested curd in the evacuations. In such a case its admixture
with lime water or with peptonizing agents may render its digestion
less difficult, but sometimes its use must for a time be suspended.
It is, however, rare that milk cannot be borne when carefully ad-
ministered. Barley water or simple soaps, such as chicken broth,
beef-tea, kc, are occasionally useful either as substitutes for or
adjuvants to milk. All through the fever the patient should be
fed at regular periods — not, as a rule, oftener than once in one and
a half or two hours — although in the intervals water or other fever-
drink may be given from time to time. In convalescence the diet
should still be largely milk and soft matters, such as custards, light
puddings, meat jellies, boiled bread and milk, &c., but other solid
foods, w ith the exception of fish, should be for a long time avoided.
In changing the diet it is of importance to note its effect upon
the temperature, which may sometimes be considerably disturbed
from this cause, even after the apparent subsidence of all febrile
action. Stimulants, although unnecessary in a large proportion
of cases, are occasionally called for when there is great exhaustion,
and in prolonged attacks. Their effect, however, should be care-
680
T Y P — T Y P
fully watched. They are usually best administered in the form of
pure spirit.
The more prominent symptoms which marlc the course of typhoid
fever frequently call for special treatment. Tl.as, when the levei
continues long, with little break in its course, the employment of
remedies to control its action (antipyretics) may often be resorted
to with benefit SiTch drugs aa quinine, salicin, salicylic acid, and
salicylate of soda, kairin, antipyrin, antifebrin, &c. (in ten to thirty
grain doses of one or other), may frequent y break in upon the con-
tinuity of the fever, and by markedly lowering the temperature
relieve for a time the body from a source of waste, and aid in
tranquillizing the excited nervous system. The times for their
administration arc either one or two hours before the usual maximum
temperature or during the period of remission. These remedies
may, however, lau, or by inducing sickness or great prostration and
depression of the circulation require to be discontinued. For a
similar purpose the cold bath is recommended by many high
authorities and is regularly employed in Germany. The method
recommended by Liebermeister is thi»: "When the temperature
rises above 104° Fahr., the patient should be placed in a bath pf
about 94°, which is gradually cooled down by the addition of cold
water to 68° Fahr., and remain immersed for twenty or thirty
minutes, the limbs being all the whUe gently rubbed. He should
then be put back into bed." Another method is that of Dr Brand
of Stettin: "When the patient's temperature attains 102° Fahr.,
he should be placed in a tepid bath of 70° and allowed to remain
till a sense of coldness or shivering is produced, wliich usually
occurs in from five to twenty minutes." By such means no doubt
the temperature can often be reduced 2° or S° Fahr, but it is very
apt to rise again and the bath must then be repeated. It is claimed
by the advocates of this method of treatment that it has been suc-
cessful in diminishing greatly the mortality of typhoid fever, but
they hold at the same time that its success in large measure depends
iipoD its employment irora an early stage in the disease. British
physicians are much divided upon the point, many high authorities
agreeing in its marked utility, while others no less eminent regard
it as fraught with danger from the frequent movement of the
patient from bed, tlie shock to the system, and the risk of hsemor-
rhage, pneumonia, or other complications, and as a plan of treat-
ment drtScult of being carried out in ordinary practice. Although
employed in some fever hospitals and with apparent success, it has
not yet commended itself for general adoption. Other methods of
appl)'ing cold, while probably less etrcctual than the bath, are much
more available, as, for example, the tepid or cold pack, the frequent
sponging of portions of the body with cold water, or the applica-
tion of icebags to the head. The present writer has resorted to
these methods in many cases of typhoid fever, with the effect of
markedly lowering a high temperature. When diarrhcea is ex-
cessive it may be restrained by such remedies as chalk, bismuth,
Dover's powder, &c.' Hemorrhage is dealt with by preparations of
ergot, or by acetate of lead, gallic acid, or other styptics. In the
event of perforation of the bowel opium is the only means avail-
able to lessen the distress attending that fatal occurrence.
In the convalescent stage, and even after apparently complete
recovery, the utmost care should be observed by the patient as to
diet, all hard and indigestible substances being dangerous from
their tendency to irritate or reopen unhealed ulcers, and bring on
^.relapse of the fever or cause a sudden perforation: Lastly, the
general health demands careful attention for a length of time,
in view of the remoter risks of chest and other diseases already
alluded to.
Relapsing Fever.
This IS a continued fever occasionally appearing as an
epidemic in communities suffering from scarcity or famine.
It is characterized mainly by its sudden invasion, with
violent febrile symptoms, which continue for about a week
and end in a crisis, but are followed, after another week,
by a return of the fever.
This disease has received many other names, the best
known of which are famine fever, short fever, synocha,
bilious relapsing fever, recurrent typhus, and spirillum
fever. As in the case of typhoid, relapsit-g fever was long
believed to be simply a form of typhus. The distinction
between them appears to have been first clearly established
in 1826, in connexion with an epidemic in Ireland. Out-
breaks of relapsing fever have occurred in all parts of the
world at times and in places where famine has arisen ; but
the disease has been most closely observed and studied in
epidemics in Great Britain and Ireland, Ge.many, Poland,
Russia. America, and India. It has frequently been found
to prevail along with an onirloniii; of typhus fever.
Relapsing fever is highly contagious, and appears^like typBi]^ tSaiwes o
to be readily communicated by the exhalations from the body. With, orif ini-
rcspcct to tlie nature of the contagion, certain important and intejv Goi..
esting observations have been made. In 1873 Obermeier discovered
in the blood of persons suffering from relapsing fever minute
organisms in the form of spiral filaments of tlie genus SpirochsUS
(see vol. xxi. p. 399, fig. 1, n), measuring in length rJjr to ir^irs
inch and in breadth ttJui to ctSfs inch, and possessed of rotatory
or twisting movements. This organism has received the name 6t
SpirilluiTi obermeieri. It appears to be present in abundance dur«
ing the height of the febrile symptoms, and is not seen during thd
interval until the relapse is impending, when it is again present as
before. This observation has been confirmed by numerous investi-.
gatore, and it has been found that inoculation with the blood
containing these Spirilla produced the symptoms of relapsing fever
in both men and animals. Comparatively little is as yet known of
the life-history of these organisms, and the question whether they
are to be regarded as the prime source of the disease or as mem
accompaniments affords ground for difference of opinion (see Path-
OLOOY, vol. xviii. p. 403) ; nevertheless their discovery and the con-
ditions of their presence already mentioned are noteworthy facta in
reference not only to the pathology of this fever but also to the
general doctrine of infectiveness in disease-processes. The most con-
stantly recoguized'factor in the origin and spread of relapsing fever
is destitution ; but this cannot be regarded as more than a predis-
posing causefavouring the reception and propagation of the morbific
agent, since in many lands widespread and destructive famines have
prevailed without any outbreak of this fever. Instances, too, have
been recorded where epidemics were distinctly associated with over-
crowding rather than with privation. Jlelapsing fever is most
commonly met with in the young. One attack does not appear to
protect from others, but rather, according to some authorities, en-
genders liability.
The extreme contagiousness of relapsing fever has occasionally III con
been shown by its spreading widely when introduced into a district, tagions-
even among those who had not become predisposed by destitution neas.
or other depressing conditions. The contagion, like that of typhu^
appears to be most active in the immediate vicinity of the patient
and to be greatly lessened by the access of fresh air. It is capable
of being conveyed by clothing. The incubation of the disease is
about one week. The symptoms of the fever then show themselves
with great abruptness and violence by a rigor, accompanied with
pains ifc the limos and severe headache. The febrile phenomena
are very marked, and the temperature quickly rises to a high point
I
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Temperature chart of relapsing fever.
(105°-107° Fahr.), at which it continues with little variation, whil.
the pulse is rapid (100-140), full, and strong. There is intense
thirst, a dry brown tongue, bilious vomiting, tenderness over the
liver and spleen, and occasionally jaundice. Sometimes a peculiar
bronzy appearance of the skin is noticed, but there is no character-
istic rash as in typhus. There is much prostration of strength.
After the continuance of these symptoms for a period of from five
to seven days, the temperature suddenly falls to the normal point
or below it, the pulse becomes correspondingly slow, and a profuse
perspiration occurs, while the severe headache disappears and the
appetite returns. Except for a sense of weakness, the patient feels
well and may even return to work, but in some cases there remains
a condition of great debility, accompanied with rheumatic pains in
the limbs. This state of freedom from fever continues for about a
week, when there occurs a well-marked relapse with scarcely less
abruptness and severity than in the first attack, and tlie whole
symptoms are of the same character, but they do not, as a rule,
continue so long, and they terminate in a crisis in three or four
davs, after which convalescence proceeds satisfactorily. Second,
tliird, and even fourth relapses, however, may occur in exceptional
The mortality in relapsing fever is ffomparatively small, about 5 Ifor-
per cent, being the average death-rate in epidemics (Murchison). tality.
The fatal cases occur mostly from the complications common to feft
continued fevers. The treatment is essentially tlie same as that
for typhus fever (see above). '■'- ^ *-^
fiSl
TYPOGRAPHY
Part I. — Historical.
TYPOGRAPHY (writing by types) ia the art of print-
ing (cast-meta!) movable types on paper, vellum, ic.
It is quite distinct, not only from writing, but from xylo-
graphy or wood-engraving, i.e., the art of cutting figures,
letters, or words on blocks of wood and taking impressions
from such blocks, by means of ink or any other fluid
coloured substance, on paper or vellum.
Eirlitst Possibly the earliest attempt to describe the art of typography
(ienni- is that ia the Dunahis issued by Peter Schoeffer, perhaps before
tioos. 1456, the colophon of which says that it was finished "Arte nova
imprimendi seu caracteiizaudi [from character = letter] . . . absque
calami exaratione." Fust and Schoeffer in the Mainz psalter of
1457 said that it was formed by an 'adiuventio artificiosa impri.
mendi ac caracterizandi absque calami iiUa exaratione." The colo-
£hon of the Catholicon of 1460 is more precise, and says that the
ook was printed " non calami, stili, aut penna suffragio, sed mira
patronarum formarumque Concordia, pi-oporcione, ac modulo," In
1462 Albrecht Pfister had " gedrucket " the Four Histories. In the
Liber Sextiis_ Deeretalium, published in 1465, Fust and Schoeffer
say that it was completed "non atramento ["atraraento comrauni,"
in the Justinianus of 1468 and 1472], plumali canna neque serea,
sed artificiosa quadam adinventione iniprimeprii scu caracterizandi,"
a phrase which they slightly varied in Cicero's Oj/icia, issued in
the same year: "non atramento, plumali canna neque asrea, sed
arte quadam perpulcra. " The edition of St Jerome s Epistles of
1470 is said to have been completed by an "ars impressoria," the
Deeretum Gratiani of 1472 by an "ars qua;dam ingeniosa impri-
mendi," the Dyalogiis of 1478 by an "ars magistra." We find
further — "ars sancta" or "divina," "nova ars scribendi," "novum
exscribendi genus prope divinum," "sculptoria archetyporum ars,"
"ars mirifica formandi," "ars excusoria," "nova imprimendi ratio,"
"ars pressure," " chalcotypa ars," " chalcographia " (1472 and
later), "chalcographia excusoria impressoriaque," "libraria im-
pressio," " empryntynge " (Caxton, 1482), "prenterei" (Schoeffer,
1492), "truckery" (1505), "impression des livres" (1498), and
"prcntcn."
»*niitcrs. The early printers called themselves, or were called by others,
"librorum prothocaragmatici " {Gramm. Rhythm., 1468), "impres-
sores librorum," "exsculptor librorum" (Jenson, 1471), "chal-
cographus" (1473; Hain, 13036), " magister artis impressorise, "
" boeckprinter " ; and during the 16th century we find them still
frequently called " chalcotypus " and " chalcographus. "
T>i)cs. The types were at first designated more by negative than positive
expressions. In 1468 they were called "caragma," later on "car-
acter" or "character," "arclretipK notffi" (1473; Hain, 13036),
" sculptoria archetyporum ars," "chalcotypa ars," "formae," "ar-
tificiosissiraie impriraendorura librorum formse." We soon hear
also of the process and material by which they were produced.
The GrammxUica of 1468, published by Schoeffer, says that it was
"cast"(sum fusus libellus). In 1471 "aeneie formulte" are spoken
of : and Bemardus Cenninus and his son say that they had printed
the Virgil "expressis ante calibe caracteribus et deinde fusis literis"
(with letters first cut into steel and then cast). In 1473 Friedrich
Creusner at Nuremberg says that he had " cut " (sculpsit) the work
of Diogenes (Hain, 6192). Johan Zciner of Ulm says in 1474 that,
he had perfected a book, not with the pen, but with letters of metal
(stagneis caracteribus). In 1474 Job. Ph. de Lignamine speaks of
"metallic^ formre." In 1476 Husner of Strasburg represents the
Kider as being printed with " letters cut of metal (litteris sculptis
artifici.nli certe conatu ex are)." Nicolas Jem-jon printed in 1480
with letters "cut and cast" (sculptis ae condalis).
WorrJ The word typographus does not seem to occur before 1488, when
"typo- _ it was used in the preface of P. Stephanus Dulcinius Scal.x- to the
P^pliy-" /Istrorunnicon of Manilius, pri;:ted in that year at Iililan by Antonius
Zarotns ;' in 1498 Erasmus uses it in a letter (dated 13th Feb.) to
Christi.mus, a Lubeck mcrcl.ant;- and in 1517 Johan Schoeffer
applies the word to himself in the colophon of the iEneas Sylvius
published by him. But of the use of the word typographia no
enrlier instance is known than 1520, in which year Cerardus Novio-
inagu^ ( = Guldenhaurius) in his Lueubrniiuncida de Batavorum
bisiUa (]>rei. to Nicol. Buscoducciisis, dated 1520)s.iys; "inventa
Gemianorum . . . bombarda videlicet, typographia', pyxis char-
taque nautica;" and Johan Schott, a printer of Strasburg, in the
Ocogr. Ptolem. published by him, describes his grandfather, Johan
Mentelin, as "priinus typographiie inventor." Gerardus, it may
be added, borrowed the whole passage from Pet. Montanns (li. 1
Adag., published a. 1504), who has chalcographia instead of typo-
^ Maittaire, Amuiles-Typogr., i. 50S, note 1.
' 0pp., iii. C01.-24.
graphia. Jleerman indeed' speaks of a use of the word typographia
(or at least of typographus) earlier than 1520, and refers to the preface
of Bernardinus Veroncnsis in the edition of TibuUus, Catullus, and
Propcrtius published at Venice in 1493 by Symon Bevilaqua, "at
least," .Meerman adds, "as it 'the preface) is read in the Annal.
Typogr. of JIaittairc, i. 560, 2ded." But on page 560 Maittairo
quotes the first two lines of Bcrnardinus's preface (till dicit) and
then adds : " Grwcis charactcribus destitutus, typo^.iphus necesse
habuit hiatus in commentario hie illic relinqucre," which is evi.
dently Maittaire's own remark, not that of Bernardinus. The pre-
sent writer at least has been unable to find such a nassaae in tho
Tibullus. °
Although the art of writing and that of block-printing
both differ widely from printing with movable metal types,
yet this last reocess seems to have been such a gradual
transition from block-printing, and block-printing in its
turn to have been such a natural outcome of the many
trials that were probably made to produce books in some
more expeditious manner than could be done with hand-
writing, that a cursory glance at these two processes will
not seem out of place, all the less as a discussion on the
origin and progress of typography could hardly b. jder-
stood without knowing the state of the literary a /elop-
ment at the time that printing appeared.
The art of printing, i.e., of impressing (by means of First
certain forms and colours) figures, pictures, letters, words, attempts
lines, whole pages, &c., on other objects, as also the art of?' ?"■""■
engraving, which is inseparably connected with printing, '°^'
existed long before the 15th century. Not to go back to
remoter essays, there is reason to suppose that mediaeval
kings and princes (among others William the Conqueror)
had their monograms cut on blocks of wood or metal in
order to impress them on their charters. Such impressions
from stamps are found instead of seals on charters of the
15th century. Manuscripts of the 12th century show
initials which, on account of their uniformity, are believed
to have been impressed by means of stamps or dies.* But
the idea of multiplying representations from one engraved
plate or block or other form was unknown to the ancients,
whereas it is predominant in what we call the art of block-
printing, and especially in tha^ of typography, in which
the same types can be used again and again.
Block-printing and printing with movable types seem to have Eas»
been practised in China and Japan long before they were known in Asiatre
Europe. It is said that in the year 175 the text of the Chinese printmg.
classics was cut upon tablets, which were erected outside the uni-
versity, and that impressions were taken of them, some of which
are said to be still in existence. Printing from wooden blocks can
be traced as far back as the 6th century, when the founder of the
Suy dynasty is said to have had the remains of the classical books
engraved on wood, though it was not until the 10th century that
printed books became common. In Japan the earliest example of
block-printing dates from the period 764-770, when the empress
Shiyau-toku, in pursuance of a vow, had a million small wooden
toy pagodas made for distribution among the Buddhist temples and
monasteries, each of which was to contain a dharani out of the
Buddhist Scriptures entitled " Vimala nirbhasa Sutra," printed on
a slip of paper about 18 inches in length and 2 in width, which was
rolled up and deposited in the body of the pagoda under the spire.
In a journal of the period, under the year 9S7, the expression
"printed" book " l^suri-hoh) is found applied to a copy of tlie Bud-
dhist canon brought back from China by a Buddhist priest This,
of course, must have been a Chinese edition ; but the use of the
term implies that printed books were already known in Japan. It
is said that the Chinese printed with movable types (of clay) from
the middle of the 11th century. The authorities of the "British
Museum exhibit as the earliest instance of Corcan books printed
with movable types a work printed in 1337. To the Corcans is
attriEuted the invention of copper types in the beginning of the
15th century ; and an inspection of books bearing d.ites of that
' Orig. Typogr., i. p. 32, note ex.
* Passavant, Le Peinlre-Graveiir, i. 18, Leipsic, 1860.64 ; John
Jackson, M'ood-Engrafing, London, 1839 ; Bucher, Gescli. der tecAiu
Kii'iste, p. 362 sg.
XXIII. — 86
682
TYPOGRAPHY
[historical.
period seems to sliow tliat they used such types, even if they did
not invent thcm.^
From such evidence as we have it would seem that
Europe is not indebted to the Chinese or Japanese for the
art of block-printing, nor for that of printing with movable
types.
MS. In Europe, as late as the second half of the 14th cen-
period, tury, every book (including school and prayer books), and
every public and private document, proclamation, bull,
letter, ikc, was written by hand ; all figures and pictures,
even playing-cards and images of saints, were drawn with
the pen or painted with a brush. lu the 13th century
there already existed a kind of book trade. The organi-
zation of universities as well as that of large ecclesiastical
establishments was at that time incomplete, especially in
Italy, France, and Germany, without a staff of scribes and
transcribers {scriptores), illuminators, lenders, sellers, and
custodians of books (slationarii librorum, librarii), and per-
gamenarii, i.e., person3 who prepared and sold the vellum
or parchment required for books and documents. The
books supplied were for the most part legal, theological,
and educational, and are calculated to have amounted to
above one hundred different works. As no book or docu-
ment was approved unless it had some ornamented and
illuminated initials or capital letters, there was no want
of illuminators. The workmen scribes and transcribers
were, perhaps without exception, caligraphers, and the
illuminators for the most part artists. Beautifully written
and richly illuminated manuscripts on vellum became
objects of luxury which were eagerly bought and treasured
up by princes and people of distinction. Burgundy of
the 15th century, with its rich literature, its wealthy
towns, its love for art, and its school of painting, was in
this respect the .centre of Europe, and the libraries of its
dukes at Brussels, Bruges, Antwerp, Ghent, ic, contained
more than three thousand beautifully illuminated MSS.
Classes In speaking of the writing of the manuscripts of the
of writ- 15th and two preceding centuries, it is essentia! to dis-
"'^' tinguish, in each country, between at least four different
classes of writing, and two of these must be again sub-
divided each into two classes. All these different kinds of
writing were, in the fir* instance, taken as models for
cutting such portions of text as were intended to illustrate
and explain the figures in block-books, and afterwards as
models for the types used in the printing of books and
documents.
(I) The book hand, that is, the ordinary wTitinf; of legal, theo-
logical, and devotional books, was used by tlie otticial transciibers
of tlie universities and churches. These men had received a more
or less learned education, and conse<iiiently wrote or transcribed
books with a certain pretence of understanding them and of being
able to write with greater rapi<iity than tlie ordinary caligrapher.
Hence tlicir writing may be called {n) the cuTrenl or cursive hook
hand, of whicl) a good many illustrations may be found in Wilh.
Schum, Excmpla Codicum Amplon. Erfurlensium. Quite distinct
from this current writing, and much clearer and more distinct, is
[b) the upright or set book haiul, wliich was employed by some
writers who worked for universities and churches, and also by a good
many wlio may be presumed to have worked in large cities and com-
jmercial towns for schools and the people in general without uni-
versity connexion. (2) In the church hand (Gothic or black letter)
were produced transcripts of the Bible, missals, psalters, and other
woiks intended for use in churches and private places of worship.
This writing we may again subdivide into two classes, — in) the ofna-
mc:i(al or califjraphic writing, found exclusively in books intended
for use in churches or for the private use of wealthy and distin-
guished persons, and (/') the ordinary uprif/ht or set church hand,
tmployed for less ornamental and less expensive books. (3) The
httcr hand may be Said to be intermediate between the set Ikerary
Ijook hand and the set literary church hand, and to differ but little
from either. It was employed in all public documents of the
rature of a letter. (4) The court or c^iarCcr haml was used for
charters, title-deeds, jt-pal bulls, kf.
' See Ern Satow, ''On the Karly Hist, of I'l-iiitini; in Japan," in
Trans. Asiat. Soc of .In pan, x. 48 sq.; and Stan. Julieo, " Doeuniei.ts
BUJ- VAjt d'lmjiriniei," he- in Juurn. Asiat., 4"" ser , ix. .^0^l.
Dypold Laber (Lauber), a teacher and transcriber at Hagenau in 15th-
Geimany, is known to have carried on a busy trade in nianusciipls century
just about the time of the invention of printing. His prospectuses, book.-i,
in handwTiting of about the middle of the 15th centuiy, announce ujilleu.
that whatever books people wish to have, large or small, "geistlich
oder weltlicli, hubsch gemolt," are all to be found at Dypold Lauber's
the scribe. He had in stock Gcsta Romannrnm, viit den Viguren
gcnolt ; poetical works (Parcival, Tristan, Frcidank) ; romances of
chivalry (Der IVitfarn Hitter ; Von cime Gctruu-en Rittcr dcr sin
cifjen Hcrtze gab umb eincr schojicn Frowcn willcn ; Der Hitter untcr
dcm -Zubcr) ; Biblical and legendary works {A Rimed Bible ; A
Psalter, Latin and German , Epistcln mid Evangelien durch das
Jor ; Vita Christy ; Das gantze Passional, wintcrteil und sionmcrteil ;
devotional books {Bcllial ; Drr Selen Trost ; Der Rosenkrantz ; Die
zchn Gebot mit Glosen ; Small Bette-Buchcr) ; and books for the
people (GiUe'Ttewehrlc Artznien-Bucher ; Gcmolte Loss- Biicher, i.e.,
fortune-telling books ; Schachtzabel gemolt). The lower educational
books consisted for the most part of the Abecedaria, containing tlie
alphabet, the Lord's prayer, the creed, and one or two prayers ; ihe
Dontxtus, a short Latin grammar extracted from the work of .-^Clius
Donatus, a Roman grammarian of the 4th century, and distinctly
mentioned in a school ordinance of Bautzen of 1418 ; l\\e Doctrinotc,
a Latin grammar in leonine verse, compiled by Alexander Callus
(or De Villa Dei), a minorite of Brittany of the 13th century ; the
Summula Logica of Petrus Hisjianus (afterwards Pope John X.XI.),
used in the leaching of logic and dialectics ; and Dionysius Cato's
Disticha de Moribus, and its supplement called Facetus, with the
Floretus of St Bernard, used in the teaching of morals. As heljis to
the clergy in their attempts to educate the lower classes, and as -a
means of assisting and promoting private devotion, there were
picture books accompanied with an easy explanatory test, for the
most part representations of the mystic relation between the Old
and New Testaments (typology). Among these books the Btblia
Pauperuvi'^ stands first. It represents pictorially the life and
passion of Christ, and there exist jfSS. of it as early as the 13th
century, in some cases beautifully illuminated.^ A richly illumi-
nated MS. of it, executed in the Netherlands e. 1400, is in the
British Museum (press-mark, King's, 5), and also fragments of one of
the 14th century (press-mark, 31,303). A remodelling and develop-
ment of this work is the Speculum Bumanx Salmtionis, a work itt
rhyme of the I4th century, which in forty-five chapters repre.sLUts
the Bible history interwoven with Mariolatry and legend. Of this
work the Paris national library and arsenal library each posscjscs a
MS. composed in 13'24, whereas the British Museum has nine tlSS.
(six being illuminated) of the 14th and 15th centuries, written iu
the Netherlands, Germany, France, and England, one (press-ni.irk,
16,578) bearing the distinct date 1379 and another (press-mark,
Egerton, 878) that of 1436. A work of a similar nature is the
Apocalypsis, of which at least two recensions with illustrations may
be pointed out. One gives the text as we know it, with or without
commentary, for which cf. Brit. Mus., 17,333 (French), 18,633
(French, but written in England), Reg. 2 D. xiii., and 22.493
(French), — all four early 14th century. - Another is more a short
history or biography of St John, but the illustrations follow those
of the former work very closely ; c/. Brit. &Ius., 19, 896 (15th century,
German). It is this last recension which agrees with the block-
book to be mentioned hereafter. Other devotional works are the
Ars Moricndi, the Antichrist, and other works which will be foumi
mentioned among the block-books.
Block-Printing or Aylograpliy.
When all this writing, transcribing, illuminating, <tc., Ui<„.^
had reached their period of greatest development, the artprir-
of printing from wooden blocks (block-printing, xylography)
on silk, cloth, itc, vellum, and paper made its appearance
in Europe. It seems to have been practised, so far as we
liave evidence, on cloth, &.C., and vellum as early as the 1 2th
century,* and on paper as far back as the second half of
the 14th century, while it was largely employed in the
early part of the 15th in the production of (1) separate
leaves (called briefs, from breve, scriptuni), containing either
a picture (print, prent, shortened from the Fr. emprint,
empreinle, and already used by Chaucer, C. T., 6186, six-
text, D. 604, printe, prenle, preente, and in other early
English documents ; also called in colloquial German I/e/ge,
Hetglein, or Halgc) or a piece of text, or both together;
* We find this title applied to at least three works, — (1) the well-
known block-book, of wliicli we speak below, (2) a treatise " in ijua da
viliis et virtutibus agitur," and (3) a work in rhyme by AluJauJei
Gallus.
' See Laib and Schwarz, Biblia Paapcrum, Zurich, 1867.
' Weigel, Anfati'jc, i. 10.
filSTORlCAI,.]
TYPOGRAPHY
683
and of (2) whole block-books, sometimes consisting of half
picture and half text, or wholly of text, or altogether of
picture.' It is, however, certain that about ^1400 xylo-
graphy ■^. as known all over Germany, Flanders, and Holland,
la thise blocks, as in wood-engraving now, the lines to be printed
were in relief. The block, after the picture or tha text had been
engraved upon it, was first thoroughly wetted with a thin, watery,
pale brown material, much resembling distemper ; then a sheet of
damp paper was laid upon it, and the back of the paper was care- ■
fully rnbbed with some kind of dabber or burnisher, usually called
»/roUon, till an impression from the ridges of the carved block had
been transferred to the paper. In this fashion a sheet could only
be printed on one side (anopisthographic) ; and in some copies of
block-books we find the sides on w^ich there is no printing pasted
t'>;;ether so as to give the work the appearance of an ordinary hook.
There arc only a few block-books which do not possess this char-
n.teristic, .as the Legend of SI Servaluis in the royal library of
lirusscls. Das Zeitglockhin in the Baml^erg library (c/. Falkcnstein,
p. 49), Ikis geistlich iind tndtlich Rom at Althorp and Gotlia (cf.
F-ilkcnstein, p. 46) ; but these belong to the end of the 15th century,
and therefore to a later period than the ordinary block-books. Con-
sequently, if a man wanted to set up as a printer of briefs or books,
he needed no apparatus but a set of wood-blocks and a rubber.
Formerly it was the general opinion that playing-cards had
been the first products of xylography ; but the earliest that have
been preserved to us are done by hand, while the printed ones date
from the 15th century, therefore from a period in which woodcuts
were already used for other purposes. It is believed that some of
tlie wood engravings and block-books were printed in monasteries.
Block' In a necrology of the Franciscan monastery at Nbrdlingcn, which
printers, comes down to the beginning of the loth ceuturj', this entry occurs :
"VII. Id. Augusti, obiit Frater h. Lugcr, laycus, optimus incisor
Jignorum " ; and on some of the engravings we find the arms of
certain monasteries, which may, however, merely mean that they
were printed for, not in, those monasteries. The registers of Ulm
mentiou several wood-engravers {/ormschiindcr), — in 1398 a certain
Ulrich ; in 1441 Heiiirich Peter von Erolzheim, Joerg, and another
Heinrich ; In 1442 Ulrich and Lienhort; in 1447 Claus (Nicolas),
Stoffel (Christopher), and Johann ; in 1155 Wilhelm ; in 1461
Meister Ulrich, tc. In a register of taxes of Nbrdlingcn we find
from 142S to 1452 a certain wilhelm Kegeler mentioned as bruf-
Iriicker; in 1453 his widow is ciUed alt brief triickcrin ; and in
1461 his brother Wilhelm is registered for the same craft. At Mainz
there was a printer, Henne Cruse, in 1440. At Nuremberg wc find
in 1449 Hans, a. forvischneidcr, while his son Junghans exercised
the same industry from 1472 to 1490. Hans von Pfedershcim printed
at Frankfort in 1459, and Peter Schott at Strasburg in 1464. A
certain George Glockendon exercised the same trade at Nuremberg
t'U 1474, when he died, being succeeded by a son and afterwards
by a grandson. In Flanders a Jan de Printere was established at
Antwerp in M17 ; and printers and wood engravers {houtc bild-
snyiers) worked there in 1442 (.Privileges of the Corporation of St
\ukc at Antwerp). At Bruges priritcrs and heeldemnkers (makers,
engravers of images) were cnumprated in 1454 among the members
of the fraternity of St John the Evangelist. The printers of playing
cards seem to have constituted a separate class. These entries show
that about the middle of the 15th. century there were men who
exercised the art of wood-engraving and printing as a trade or craft.
It seems also certain that wealthy persons and religious institutions
were wont to possess sets of blocks, and, when occasion arose, they
printed a set of sheets for presentation to a friend, or in the case of
monasteries for sale to the passing pilgrim. A printer of briefs or
block-books had no need to serve an apprenticeship; any neat-
handed man could print for himself. Wc learn from the inventory
of the possessions of Jean de Hinsberg, Hshopof Liege (1419-1455),
and his sister, a nun in the convent of Bethany, near Mechlin, that
they possessed "unura instrumentum ad imprimcndas scriptnras et
ymagines," and " novcm printe lignce ad impriniendas ymagincs
cum quatuordecim aliis lapideis printis." These entries would
seem to indicate that people purchased engraved blocks of wood
or of stone from the woodcutter rather than books from a printer.
Vi'riy The earliest dated woodcut that we know of is the St Christopher
■l.nted of 1423, preserved in the library of Lord Spencer at Althorp. The
"ood-en> llfary engraving, which is preserved at IJrusscls and apparently
(T-avings. bears the date mccccxviii., is now declared to be of 1469, the date
having been falsified. The next date after that of the St Christopher
is 1437, found on a woodcut preserved in the imperial library at
Vienna. It was discovered in 1779 in the monastery of St Blaise in
the Black Forest, and represents the martyrdom of St Sebastian,
with fourteen lines of text. The date, however, is said by others
to refer to a concession of indulgences. A woodcut, preserved in
the library at Vienna, which rcpreseiits St Nicolas do Tolentino,
has thedatcl440. but written in by hand ; as the saint w-as canonized
Vw> have also cviilcncc that soinctimes the picture nr limircs were printed
rr«!i: l.iocks, space bein^ rosprved for the text, to be addeil afterwanis by hand
{s, ,. r- manl, Oriffirw, i. 10'-/.
ii. that year, it may refer to thaf event. Another in the Weigel
collection representing the bearing of the cross, St Dorothea and
St Alexis, has the date 1443, also written in by hand, though the
woodcut is considered to belong to that period. These are the only
known woodengrarings with dates anterior to the second half of
the 15lh century. But there exist a good many woodcuts which,
from the style of the engra-\-ing, are presumed to be of an earlier
date, and to have been printeil partly in the fourteenth and partly
in the first half of the lolh century. J. D. Passavant^ enumerates
twenty-seven, all of German origin and preserved in various libraries
in Germany, while in the Colleetio l^eigeliana (vol. i. ) no fewer
than 154 are recorded, some of w-hich are to be ascribed to the
Netherlands. We know of the existence o"f at least five engravings
which m.iy be ascribed to the Netherlands :—(l) representing the
Virgin Mary, with Dutch inscriptions, in tlie museum at Berlin ;
(2) representing the Virgin Mary spoken of above, in the library at
Brussels ; (3) representing St Anthony and St Sebastian, in the
Wcigel collection ; (4) a St Hubert and St Eustatius, in the royal
library at Brussels ; (5) representing the Child Jesus, in the library
at Berlin ; (C) the Mass of St Gregory, with indulgence, in the
Weigcl collection (ef. i. 195).
Of block-books of probable German origin the following areBlo'Jc
known : — books of
(1) The Apoealypsis^ or HistoriaS. Johannis Evangelists cjusqne Ger:ii.ir»
Visiones Apocalypticx (Germ. Das Buck der kaymhckcJi Offcnba- oriiria
rui\qen Sand Johmix). Of this work six or seven editions are said to
exist, each containing forty-eight (the 2d and 3d edition fifty) illus-
trations, 5n as many anopisthographic leaves, which seem to have
been divided, into three quires of eight sheets each. The first
edition alone is without signatures.
(2) Ars Morietidi. Of this work some authors think that there
are caily German editions, among others that spoken of below as the
2d Dutch edition. Certainly German is the edition of Hans Sporer
of Nuremberg, 1473, in the public library at Zwickau, of another by
Ludwigzu Ulm, iu the Paris national library, and of that described
in Colleetio Weigel, (ii. 16), where also other, but opisthogiaphic,
editions arc described.
(3) Ars Memorandi ; thitty leaves, folio, printed on one side, fifteen
leaves being letter-press and fifteen plates.
(4) Sahe Regina, bears the name of its engraver, Lienhart
czu Regenspurck. It is composed of sixteen leaves ; two leaves
(signature a) are wanting in thc_only copy known of it, which was
in the Weigel collection (ii. 103T.
(5) Vila Christi ; thirty-two leaves, sm. 8vo. Two copies in Ihe
Paris library (Sotheby, ii. 143).
(6) The Ten Commandments for Unlearned People [Die tehn Bole
fur die ungeler)ile Lent). Ten leaves are preserved in the library
at Heidelberg bound up with a manuscript (No. 438).-*
(7) The Passion of Our Lord ; sixteen leaves, in the Weigcl
collection (Sotheby, ii- 141).
(8) The Antichrist (Dcr Enndchrist) ; twenty -six leaves, small
folio (Sotheby, il 3? , Wcigel, ii. 111). Copies, Lord Spencer and
coll. Wcig.
(9) Tlie Fifteen Sispis of the Last Judgment ; twelve engravings,
usually bound up with the engravings of The Antichrist (Sotheby,
ii. 42). Copy, Lord Spencer. There is also an edition published
at Nuremberg in 1472 by Junghaniiss,PrilVmaler.
(10) Symbobnn Aposlolicum ; small quarto, seven leaves printed
on one side only, and containing twelve woodcuts with German
inscriptions. The only copy of it known is preserved in the library
of Munich (Sotheby, ii. 148).
(11) The Legend of St Mcinrad ; forty-eight leaves. The only copy
known is preserved in the Munich library (Sotheby, ii. 150).
(12) The AcH Sehttlkheiten, of which eight leaves were in the
Weigcl collection (i. 112 ; Sotheby, ii. 154).
. (13) The Fable of the Sick Lion ; twelve leaves, preserved in the
litrary at Heidelberg (No. 438 ; see Sotheby, ii. 159, pi. Ixxxvi.).
{\i) Dcfcnsoriumjnviolalx Virginilalis b. Marix Virginis ; six-
teen leaves fol. The unique copy is in the British Museum. On
the first leaf are the initials of the printer F[riedrich] W[altheren]
and the date 1 470 (Sothebv, ii. p. 63).
(15) The s»ine work, twenty-seven leaves, large folio, with the
Imprint "Johannes eysenhut impressor Anno ab incarnacois dnice
M° quadringentcsimo septuagesimo j°" (t/. Sotheby, ii. 72). Cop/
in the British Museum.
(16) Tilt Dance of Death (Dance Macabre, Der Doten Danlz) ,
twenty-seven leaves (Sotheby, ii. 156).
(17) Z)!C A'KTis^CiVomandaof Dr Johan Hartlieb (Sotheby, ii. 84).
(IS) Der Beichtspiegd ov Confcssionale : eight engravings(Sothcby,
ii. 145). Copy in the royal library at The Hague.
(19) The Apostles' Creed ; seven leaves, folio. Copy at Wol-
fenbiittcl.
(20) The Credo, in German , twelve leaves, quarto. Copy in the
royal library at Munich^
2 U F'lntre-Gna-euT, i. 27 SQ.
3 See Jf>h. GofTckcn, Der Bitdercntcchismus der IC-Jahrk., Leipsic, 1S66. quarto^
Sotlicby, ij. 100.
684
TYPOGRAPHY
[historical
Proiyugmuula. scu Turris Snpic^Uix ; one sheet, piano, Brit. Mus.
(Sotlieb-, iL 164). . .
nr Block-books of Netherlandish ongiu are :—
Nether- d ) J^Mia Pauperum ; forty leaves (each bearing a s.gnatu e o
Wish to V. ato .«.). Asmanyasseyen editions have been drst-.g-ished
;^,in bv SothebY (i. 43 ; see also Holtrop, Monum. Typ., p. 3).
^ngm. "y .^XVorimii ; > twenty-four leaves, small folio, thirteen con-
taining text, eleven plates (see Sotheby, L 69 ; .Ho'lfT. P-. ?'-^ . .
(3) Ck^nlUum Canticorum. Histona seu Promdcniia £. Vxrgtms
UaAx ex Cantko Caiilicorum; sixteen leaves, in fol. (Sotheby, i.
'''' (i)^LiU^'R'-'gum, seu Bisloria Davidis ; twenty leaves, folio
(Sotheby, i. 120b). Some consider this to be a German work.
(5) Eiireitium super Pater Xosler, by Henricus dc Pomeno ; ten
leaves, small folio (Sotheby. ii. 137 ; Holtrop, p. lO)-"
(6) TempleUioncs Demmis Temptanlis Homincni deSepUm / Malis
MorLlihJ; a single large folio leaf printed on one side Two eop.es,
one in British MSseumr the other in the library at Wolfenbuttel.
(7) Vita Ckristi, or the Li/eand Passim of Chnsl ; tbirtysiic cuts,
oti-nnally printed in a press en six anopisthographic leaves, 8vo.
In the library at Erlangen (see Campbell, Anriaes ji^).
IS) Bistoria Sancls Crucis-.a. fragment of one leaf (with signature
,), preserved in the Weigel collection (ii. 92), which seems to b« a
proof-sheet only. o .u u.. ; loos s
(9) Alphabet in figures (Holtrop, p. 11 ; Sotheby, 1. 122).
10) Amerium Spirituale.M Henncus de Pomeno or Henry
Bogaert ; twelve leaves," having twelve woodcuts accompanied by
MS text, in the library at Brussels (Holtrop, Hon. Typ, P- 9)- "
bears the date 1440 in two places ; but some contend that this
refers to the date when the book was written/. not wbep the engrav-
'"fesid^Th? worVs of Sotheby, Holtrop, and Weigel already
quoted, consult W. M. Conway, The Woodcutkrs of Ih^J^ctlurlands
iK the 15th Century. Cambridge, 1S84 ; Heineken, 7de^ ffe-u^afe,
Leipsic 1771 ■ J. Ph. Berjeau, FacsimxUs cf the Biblw. Paupenm,
Caiiicilm Canticorum, Speculum, London, 1859-1861; and Id.,
Catal niiislrides Livres Xylogr., London, 1865.
Earli/ Printing ot ifainz
When we for the moment, -leave out of sight the
question as 'to when, where, and by whom the art of
printing with movable metal types was invented, and take
our stand on well -authenticated dates in such printed
documents as have been preserved to us, we find that the
first printed date, 1454, occurs in two different editions ot
the same letters of indulgence issued in that year by 1 ope
Nicholas V. in behalf of the kingdom of Cyprus.
tJicholas These two editions are distinguished respectively as the 31 line
%tT and the 30-line indulgence. The former, of -'■''^l' ' I™ ^^i.;' ^ ,
dul-ence issues with the printed date mcccclnu.. and a f"""*" ^^'V'"''
,f 1454: printed date mcccclv., are known to exist, clai.r.s ,.,ipiuy' fiom
a chronological point of view over the latter, of which one issue
"vith the printerdate mccccliiu., and two issues wuh the prmted
date mcccclquinto, are known to exist, because one of the sold
copieXt h\s been preserved was issued at Evurton 15th l^oveni-
l^? 1454, whereas of the 36-line indulgence the earliest sold copy
that has as yet come down to us was issued at Cologne on 27 h
February 1455, though it distinctly has the printed date mcccclm,.
but altS^d wiih the pen to mccccliiii . In t he 31-l.ne indu gence
occur (1) a large church type usually regarded as identical with
that of the 36-Une Bible, and used for the rubrics of the absolutions,
for the word with which the document commences, and for the
Christian name of the pope's legate ; (2) a smaller text or brief type
which was afterwards very closely imiUted. if not actually used, at
EltvUle, in printing the 1472 edition of the Voea^ulartus ex quo
and an edition of the Summa dt Arliculi^ Fidei of Thomas Aquinas;
(3) a large initial V and two large initials M, winch differ froin
each other. In the 30-line indulgence occur (1) a large churcli
type which is used as in the 31 lino indulgence, and is usually re-
carded as identical with that of the 42 line Bible ; (2) a smalh-r text
or brief type, of which as yet no further trace has been found ; (i)
% large initial U. and two large initials M. which differ from each
other, the first being identical with the initial M of the second
absolution of a 33-line indulgence printed by Peter SchoeHer in
1489 for "Raymundus Peyraudi, archidiaconus Alnisiensis in
1 Hcineken enumerates s.x editions, of ^.l..chpnel.as mschpl.ons inGerraan
«M .Uoan article by Guicbard, in BM. rfu B.!...op».,(e. Pans IS41.
? See also W. M Conway. Sola m U^ Ewatium ^p,r ral'Tho^rW^.
> There is one cni.y In the Britisli Museum and another in ll.e hbrarv at Ba^el.
this last having the dale H64 cn:n3ved on ihe letter A. which is mutilated in the
foniier A jimUar alphabet [.r^s^ived at Dresden seems to U- a copy made id
^V'mV'w. M. Conway la of a dilTerent opinion ; see ScUi ,»'"„^"7;''"'";^
Dumorticrtcslirics to having seen another copy unaccompanied by MS. I I^oles
*ur rimprimeric," in B<'U . Aaxd. /Joy. rff Mg.. vol. viii. 1811).
» No inferences can be drawn from this prionty. " it merely resU on Ihe
.date oft sold copy that has come to li^ht.
erclesia Xanton." who issued it it the order of Pope Innocent
VIII , " pro tuicione orthodoxe fidei contra Turchos. lliese two
different editions are usually regarded as having been printed at NUint
Mainz ; and, so long as there is no evidence to the contrary, we may i^nntiiit
ass-ume that such wts really the fact. But we must at the same time
conclude that about November 1454 there were at least two nval
printers at work there, -(1) the printer of the 31_line indulgence
whose name has not yet transpired, but who may have been Johan
Gutenberg, perhaps subsidizedly Johan Fust ; (2) the printer of the
30-line indulgence, who was no doubt Peter (Schoeffer) de Gernss-
heym, on account of the connexion of this indulgence with that
of 1489 which was unquestionably printed by him. Latterly four
written conies of the same indulgence have been found which re-
^ t vely'bear the dates.-Frank'fort, 10th AprU 1454 (m the pos^
session of Herr Lais, Wiesbaden) ; Frankfort, llth Ap/J "5*
(Frankfort archives) ; llth July 1454 (place unknown i Darmstadt
archives) ; Lubeck. 6th October 1454. As their dates precede by
a few weeks only the earliest known printed date (15 h Noyembe
1454). they mark, perhaps, the exact time when pnnting made its
appearance at Mainz in an already advanced state of peri^ection.
'^In foUo^nc up the basis afforded by the above indulgences we Eaily
may give Tslfort'^chronological view of the early printing at Mainz, m^^i
known printer, H54. ^^^
(i t 31-IiDe indulgence; three different Types 3 Oarge church type) and 4
issues (A, B. C), with the printed (smaller brief type), "^d.^y^P?"'
year mccccliiii.. and one issne (D) fechoeffer de Oemssheym, 1454-14M.
with the printed year mcccclv. All yj j so-line indolgence ; one' issue (A)
prinUsl on vellum. Of issue? A * ' ^t], y,j printed year roccscliiii ,
and B no sold copies have yelcome ^^j t„o issues (B. C) with the
to ligtit Three unsold copies of piinted year mcccclquinto. All
each are preserved at (1) Bruus- printed on vellum. Of issue A
wick. (2) Wolfenbultel, and (3) only one copy has been discovered.
Hanover (Culemann). Of issue C jkjw in Lord Spencer's library. It
eightsoldcopiesareknowntoextst ^^3 s^jd at Cologne on Feb. 27
invariouslibranes.withdatesfrom j^^g^ fj,e printed date mccccliiiL
Nov. 15 1454 to Apr. 30 1455. Also having been altered with the pen
four unused copies have been dis- ^^ incccclii.ij. Of issue B two
covered. Of issue D ten sold copies sold oopies. with dates Apr. 11 aud
with dates from Mar. 7 1455 to Apr. 29J455, are in the Berlin library
SO 1435 and four unused copies are j„j the Bnt Uus. Of issue C
known. two sold copies, with ilates Feb.
22 and Apr 24 U55, are at Hanover
(Culemann) and Wolfenbultel. An
unsold copy is at Hanover (Cule-
mann).
TvPE 1. conftnufd ; for type 2
see below.
(n ) Mar.ung yMder die Durkc. An al-
r"^"^" Si' .•I,d°'o,'''f,nevrn Tnes* TvPE 3. confi.W (till about 1457);
JpT'only co°py 'llnoT; -aa'd". ,. of typ^'4 no further trace is found,
covered at Augsburg, and is now (il.) Donalus of 24, 25 or 26 lines. 24
in the Munich library. (7) haves ; one leaf (the 8th or
(iii ) Coniuncluraw « (tppositiimes Solis 9th "I in the Mainz library.
^ ct binx. A calendar for 1457, (,ii.) Uoyuxlus of 32 lines, 14 (?) leaves,
a broadside sheet, printed on one ihe lOth (?) lU the Mainz library,
side. The upper half of the only (iv.) i>una(us of 33 lines, two leaves
copy known was discovered at in the Paris library.
Mainz ami Is now in Uie Paris (v.) Oonntns of 35 lines, folio; printed,
m„jry according to the colophon, per
(iv ) Der Cisianus (not Cislanus) ru Tctrum dc Gcmssheym, in urbe
DuU'che. A broadside sheet, printed Moguntiiia cum suis capit^libus.
on one side, 36 lines, besides (vi.) 42.|inc Bible (also called Mazannt
separate head-line The Tross Bible), printed before Aug IS
copy. menli..ned in Suppl. to 1456. as the binder of the lapet
Bni, efs Wn-xd (1S7S. s.v. "Cis- copy in the Paris library state,
lanus"). was bought in 1S70 for the that he finished its rubrication
(^iiihridge university library. ohthatday. 2 vols, fol., 641 leaves
(V ) and (vi ) IWnalus Two dilferent of 2 columns of 42 lines each. ex.
* ■'ed.t.on80fI4(^l.aveseach.2-|ine3 cej.t that in ,^°™ .'"P'!? "'«
(B Mus C 18e 1. No3. 2and 5). columns of pp. 1-9 contam 40 hnej
(vii ) iWii of 30 lines, 12 fO leaves ; only, while the 10th Page h" »
'a fragment of the Sth O in the columns of 41 lines each, though
vVrni lihrarv <lie dilTercnce m the number ol
(viil ) 36 line B?ble. 2 vols. fol.. 852 lines makes no difference in tbl
leav-es with 2 columns ol 36 hoes space which they occupy 7
M^h OL a page Some biblio- Cvn.)42.1ine Canlial od Mal„hruis.
^pherac^lUlYthe Pfister Bible. The first and rmly lea kno«o^
issiming that I'lister printed iL in the Pans library. It is ptmt«d
^eTanl library poss-sses a, .apcr on vellum. »'"' , ,«'',^l^"|y»
copv. and also a separate copy of every respect to I '« Inline B ble.
thi'list leaf, winch bears the MS. baving double columns, 42 bnes.
dat« 1461. Other copies exist in &C. . ,. .j
The above four types and the books printed with them (besides
a few others printed by Albrecht Pfister at Bamberg) are the only
ones that stand in close connexion with the question regarding the
introduction, or the possible invention, of printing at M.inz. It has
been pointed out above that one of the initial M s of the 30-1 nc
indulgence of 1454 occors again in an indulgence «f lj89. printoi
by Schocffer ; hence types 3 and 4 and the books printed with t^
must be ascribed to this printer. In spite of the fact that the captUl
P found in the indulgence does not seem to occur agaiii in the 4Z-
line Bible No further trace of the brief type 4 has yet been found,
and perhaps Schocffer melted it down for his other types. As
SchoelTer. in the colophon of the Donalus (v.) which bears his
6 See Hessels Culenbers. p 160; and Bernard. Origint. ii. 31
7 For other copies, see Bernard, Origins. <■ 104. 177-192 ; and Hessels, Col«.
'<r(i. 170.
ITOTORICAL.]
TYPOGRAPHY
685
tune alone, says that it was printed "cnm suis capitalibus," and
IS these capitals gradually disappear after H59 and the type of the
12-UQe Bible is no longer found after 1456, we must presume that
the seren incunabula mentioned above were printed by Peter
5choeffer alone before he entered (in 1457) into partnerehip with
Fohan Fust'
There is no such certainty as regards types 1 and 2 and the books
printed with them. If the 31-line indulgence may be assumed to
nave been printed at Mainz, its printer was in all probability Johan
Gutenberg, though it would seem from a lawsuit of 1455 (see p. 690
kelow) between him and Fust that in that year Gutenberg had not
fet printed anything, and in 1454 (1455) Fust evidently called him
to account for not naving produced anything. Certain'circum-
itances point to Albrecht Pfister as the printer of the eight incuna-
kula in the left-hand column. First, he undoubtedly printed with
;ype 1 in that city as early as 1461, for on 14th February of that
fear he issued in that type an edition of Boner's EdelsUin (88
leaves, fol., with wood engravings), and printed with the same tyjw
It least eight other works,- one of which was issued in 1462, the
(even others without a date. Secondly, most of the copies of the
16-Iine Bible were at one time or another preserved in the libraries
•f Bavaria, and a great number of fragments have been discovered
U) monasteries in that country, even in a re^ster of the abbey of
St Michael at Bamberg of the year 1460. Thirdly, a transfer of
type from Gutenberg to Pfister is contrary to all analogy in the
infancy of printing, when every printer started with a type of his
own making. But, as there is no direct evidence as to who really
possessed types 1 and 2 before 1460, we have not felt justified in
assigning the 31-Iine indulgence and the other seven incunabula
(including the 36-line Bible) to Pfister.
The It is alleged that, in consequence of the lawsuit between
CtttAdi- Gutenberg and Fust, the former was deprived of all tools, kf. , which
am type, he had made, or is supposed to have made, with the money which
the latter had advanced to him,>aBd that afterwards a certain Dr
'Honiery or Humery, a syndic oflilainz, lent him fresh money to
enable him to establish another printing office. This allegation is
made on the strength of a letter of obligation (of 26th February
1468), given by Dr Homery to Adolph, the archbishop of Mainz,
by which he acknowledges to have received from the said arch-
bishop "several forms, letters, instruments, implements, and other
things belonging to the work of printing, which Johan Gutenberg
had left after his death, and which had belonged and still did be-
long to him (Dr Homery)." It is presumed that with these types,
which we may call the Mainz type No. 5, Gutenberg printed (i. )
Joannes de Balbis, Calholiam, 1460, 373 leaves, folio, 2 columns of
66 lines each, copies of which exist in the Cambridge university
library, three in the British Museum, two in the Pans library, in
Lord Spencer's library, in the Wolfenbiittel and Mainz librar'es,
&c. ; (ii.) Matthseus de Cracovia, Tradatus Rationis, 22 leaves,
4to, 30 lines, three copies of which arc in the British Museum, one
at Althorp, one in the Cambridge library, two in the Paris library,
ic. ; (iii. and iv.) Thomas Aquinas, Summa de AHiculis Fidei,
two editions in 4to, the first of 13 leaves and 34 lines, — two copies
of which are in the British Museum, one in Lord Spencer's, the
Cambridge library, &c. — and the second of 12 leaves and 36 lines,
— fopies in the British Sluseum and the Paris library ; and (v.) in-
dulgence of 1461 of 15 lines.
On ISth January 1465 Adolph II., archbishop of Mainz, ap-
pointed "Johan Gudenberg, on account of his grateful and willing
service, his servant and courtier Idhiencr uiid hoffgesind) for life,
promising to supply him with clothing and each year 20 'malter'
of corn and 2 ' fuder' of v>ine." It has always been inferred from
this that Gutenberg had quitted Mainz and gone to EltviUe (Elfeld)
to reside at the archbishop's court, and that, his dignity as courtier
preventing him from printing himself, he )>assed the Cnlholicon
types on to Henry Bechtermuneze at Eltville. But recent re-
searches have shoivn that Gutenberg remained at Mainz till his
death in 1 468. We certainly find in 1467 the Cnlholicon type with
some additions (already found In the indulgence of 1461) at Eltville
near Mainz, in the hands of Henry and Nicholas Bechtermnnrzc
and WIgandns Spyesde Orthcnberg. who finished on 4th November
of that year (vi.) Vocabularius ex j«o(a Latin-German vocabulary)
in 4to, 166 leaves, 35 lines, the only known copy of which is in
the Paris library, and (vii.) Vocabularivs ex q^io, second edition,
with colophon dated 5th June 1469, 4to, 165 leaves, 35 lines, copies
of which exist in Lord Spencer's library, at Blenheim, and in the
Paris library. Now it is asked how the Bechtemiunczes could
have been using the Catholkon type in 1467, if we assume that it
was this type to which Homery refers in his letter of obligation as
being in his possession. Some, therefore, conclude that the Catholi-
eon and the four other works in the same type were printed at
Mainz by Henry Bechtermuneze, \vho may afterwards have trans-
ferred liis printing office to Eltville. In that case it is difficult to
see what type Homery could refer to, unless it were type 2, a close
imitation of which, if not the actual type, was used by Nicholas
1 See forilctaiU. Ilessels, GuUnherg, p. 166 aj.
See Hessels, UuUnberQ, p. 161 sq.
Bechtermuneze at Eltville in printing {12th March 1472) a third
edition of the Vocabuianiis ex quo, 166 leaves, 35 lines, copies of
which are preserved in the Paris and Hamburg libraries, and an
edition of Thomas Aquinas, Summa de Ariiculia Fidei, 12 leaves,
35, lines (Munich library).'
It is necessary to point out that for nearly seventy years eight
books — (1) Prognostication or Calendar; (2) Hermann de Saldis,
Speculum Sacerdotum ; {3) Traclatus de Celcbratione Missarum ; (4)
a work in German treating of the necessity of councils ; (5) Dialogus
inter Hugorum Cathmumet Olivcrium super Libcrtate Ecclesiastical
(6) Sifridus de Arena, Determtnatio Duarum Quasstionum ; (7)
Id., Bespohsio ad Quatuor Qusestiones; (8) Klagspiegel, or New
g:-tevtsc/U Meehtbuch — have been ascribed to Gutenberg on the
strength (a) of the date 1460, which was said to be found in the
Prognostication in the Darmstadt library, and (J) of a so-called
rubrication alleged to be in a copy of the Tractatus de Celebratione
Missaram, in which "Johannes dictus a bono monte" and Joliaiines
Numeister are represented as offering this work on 19th June 1463
to the Carthusians at Mainz. But the date in the Prognostication
has been falsified from 1482 into 1460, and the rubrication in the
Tractatus is a forgery.' The eight books are now considered to
have been printed by Erhard Reuwich.
When we set aside the above works, there is iio further difficulty
asregaids the history of Mainz printing. Fust and SchoeiTer worked
together from 1457 to 1466, starting in August 1457 with an
edition of the Psallerium, printed in Targe missal types, which, as
far as we know, is the first printed book which bears a date, besides
the place where it was printed and the name of the printers. It
was reprinted with the same types in 1459 (the second printed book
with date, place, and name of printer), in 1490, and in 1502 (the
last work of Schoeffer, wlio had manufactured its types). In 1459
Fust and Schoeffer also published Gul. Durantus, llationale Divin-
orum OficioTtim, with the small type (usually called Durandus
type) with which they continued to print long afterwards. In
1460 they published the ConMilniioTies of Pope Clement V., the
text printed in a type (Clement type) about a third larger than the
Durandus. This type was, however, in existence in 1459, as the
colophon of the Durandus is printed with it,*
Spread of Typography.
Having explained the early printing of Mainz, in so far as it Spread
bears upon the controversy (see below) as to where and by whom of typo-
the art of printing was invented, we can follow its spread to other grapby.
countries. After Mainz it was first established in 1460 at Stras-
buig, where the first printers were, — 1. Johann Mentelin, who com-
pleted a Latin Bible in that year, according to a rubrication in a copy
at Freiburg in the Breisgau ; 2. Adolph Kusch de Inguilen, who is
presumed to be the printer of the undated books with a singularly-
shaped R,' e. 1464 ; 3. Henricus Eggestein, 1471 ; 4. George
Kusner; 5. Martin Flach, ic. In 1461 at Bamberg, where the first
printer was Albrecht I'fistcr, who in that year published Boner's
Edchiein, though it is still doubtful whether he did not print
earlier (see above); 2. Joh. Sensenschniidt, e. 1480. 1465 at
Subiaco ; first and only printers Conrad Sweynheym and Arnold
Pannarts, who completed in that year an edition of Cicero, De
Oratorc, zni Lactantius, and removed to Rome in 1467. 1466 at
Cologne, the printers being — 1. Ulrich Zell, who published in that
year Chrysostom, Super Psalmo Quinguagcsimo Liber Privuis, though
it is presumed that he printed in 1463 ; 2. Arnold Ther Hoernen,
1470; 3. Johannes Koelhoff of Liibeck, 1470, who punted the
Cologne Chronicle in 1499 ; 4. Nicolaus Gotz, 1474 ; 5. Goiswinus
Gops, 1475; 6. Petrus de Olpe, 1476 (not 1470); 7. Conradus
Winter of Honiburg, 1476; 8. Joh. Guldenschaaf, 1477 ; 9. Henricu."!
Quentel, 1479, ic." 1467 at Eltville; first printers Nicolas and
Henry Bechtermuneze and Wygandus Spyes de Orthcnberg, who
completed in that year a Vocabularius ex quo. 1467 at Rome ; first
printers Conrad Sweynheym and Arnold Pannarts from Subiaco,
who published an edition of Cicero's Epislolse ad Familiares, and
Ulrich Hahn or Udalricus Callus,' who issued on 31st December
1467 Turrecreraata'sil/crfita/i'Wi«. 1468 at Augsburg; first printer
Giinther Zainer or Zeyncr. Same year at Basel ; first pnntei Bert-
hold Rot of Hanau. Same year at Marienthal ; Brothere of the
Common Life. 1469 at Venice ; printei-s, — 1. Johannes of Spires ;
2. his brother Vindelinus of Spires ; 3. Christopher Valdarfer ; 4.
Nicolas Jenson, &c. The fnrtlicr spread of typography is indicated
by the following data: — 1470 at Nuremberg (Johan Senseiischinidt,
Friedr. Creusner, Anton Kobergcr, ic.), Berona or Beromiinster in
Switzerland (Helyas Helye alias De LloulTen), Foligno (Emiliauus de
Orfinisand Johannes Numeistcr),Trevi (Johann Reynard ),Savigliano
3 See Hpssels, Gutenberg, pp. 107-114.
* See further Bernard, OriQine dc t Imprimerie, i. 216 sq.
t^ M. Phili; pe, Origine de Vtmprimirie a hiris, p. 219, (nentions two boolia
printed in this type, whicti conuin manuiKript notes to the effect that they
wvre purchased in 1464 and 1467, so that Inguilen should be placed beroi»
Ei;^,•e9rL-in.
6 J'llian Veldcner, who is said to have printed at Cologne, was never estalK
lished there, but at Louvain (1473.77), Utrecht (147S SI), and Culenborg at
Kuilenburg(MS3S4); see Uollrop, J/on. Tjip , pp. 42, 47. 109.
686
TYPOGRAPHY
[historical.
(Hans Glim), Paris (first printers the three partners Ubich Genng,
Michael Friburger, Martin Krantz) ; 1471 at Sp^es, Bologoa
Ferrara, Florenfe, Milan, Naples, Pavia, Treviso Savigliano (?) ;
1472 at Esslingen, Cremona, Mantua, Padua, Brescia, Parma,
Monreae (Sonlovi). Fiv.zzano, Verona, Icsi (1) St Ursmo (J ;
1473 at Lauingen, Ulm (perhaps a. early as 1469), Mei^eburs, Alost,
Utrecht, Lyons, Messina, Buda ; 1474 at Louvain, Genoa Como,
Savona, Tilrin, Viccnza, Valencia (?) ; 1475 at Lubeck, Breslau,
Biaubeuren, Burgdorf, Trent, Cracow (?), Modena, Regpo (in
Calabria), Cagli, t'aseUe or Casale, Pieve (Piove) di Sacco, 1 urugia.
Piacenza Sa^agosea ; 1476 at Rostock, Bruges, Brussels Angers.
Toulouse PolUano (Pogliano) ; 1477 at Eeichenstem, Deventej
Gouda, Delft, Westminster, Lucca, Ascoli, Palermo, Seville ; 14,5
at Oxford, St Maartensdyk, CoUe, Schussenned (m Wurtemberg),
Eichstadt Geneva, Vienna. Trogen (?) Chablis. Cosenza, Fragile.
Barcelona ; 1479 at Erfurt, Wurzburg, Nimeguen Zw-olle, Poitiers,
Toscolano, Pinerolo, Novi, Lerida, Segorbe ; 1480 at London, .St
Albans (or in 1479), Oudenarde, Hasselt, Reggio (in Modena),
^lamanca, Toledo, Nonantola, Friuli (?) Caen; 1481 at Passau.
Leipsic, Magdeburg. Treves. Urach, Casale di San Vaso Saluzzo,
Albi RoufeSiont (?) ; 1482 at Reutlingen, Memmingen Metz. Pisa,
Aquila, Htwerp, Promentour, Zamora, Odense ; 1483 at Leyden
Kuilenburg (Culenbors;), Ghent, Chartres, Chalons-siu-.Marne (?),
Troyes, cfrona, Stockholm ; 1484 at Bois-le-Duc, Siena, Udine
Soncino, Winterberg, Klosterneuburg, Rennes, Loudeac ; 1485 at
Heidelberg, Ratisbon, Pescia, Vercelli, Treguier or Lantreguet,
Salins, Burgos. Palma. Xeres ; 1486 at Munstcr, Stuttgart Chia-
vasco. Voghera, Casal Maggiore, Abbeville, Brunn, Schleswig ;
1487 at Ingolstadt, Gacta, Rouen, Murcia ; 1488 at Stendal. ^iterbo
Gradisca. Besan(;on. Constantinople ; 1489 at Hagenau San Cuoufat
(near Barcelona). Coria. Pamplona. Tolosa. Lisbon ; 1490 at Orleans,
Grenoble. Dole ; 1491 at Hamburg, Nozzano Goupillieres, Angou-
leme. Dijon. Lantenac ; 1492 at Zinna, Valladolid Leina ; 1493
at Limeburg. Cagliari, Freiburg (in Breisgau), IJrbmo Acqm ;
1494 at Oppfnheim, Monterey, Braga ; 1495 at Freisingen, Freiberg.
Soandiano, Forli, Limoges, Schoonhoven (monastery Den Hem)
Wadstena, Cettinje ; 1136 at Otfenburg, Provins, Granada ; 1497
at Munich, Barco, Carmagnola, Avignon; 1498 at Tubingen,
Peri<nieux. Schiedam. Tarragona; 1499 at Montserrat. Madnd ;
ISOO'at OlmuU!. Pforzheim, Sursee. Perpignan, Valenciennes, J aen.
Printing was introduced into Scotland in 1505 by the establishment
of Andrew MUlar at Edinburgh.' and into Ireland, at Dublin, in 1551.
As for non-European countries and towns, pnntuig was estabiishea
in Mexico in 1544. at Goa about 1550 at Tranquebar m 1569,
Terceira in the Azores 1583, Lima 1585, Manila and Macao (China)
1590, in Hayti in the beginning of the 17th century, at Puebla in
1612 Cambnage(Mas3.) 1638, Batavia 1668, Tiflis 1701 German-
town 1735, Ceylon 1737, Halifax (Nova Scotia) 1766. Madras 1772
Calcutta 1778, Buenos Ayres 1789. Bombay 1792. "■ Egypt (at
Alexandria, Cairo, and Gizeh) in 1798, at Sydney 1802 Cape Town
1806, Montevideo 1807, Sarepta 1808. Valparaiso 1810, Astrakhan
1315. in Sumatra and at Hobart Town and Santiago (in Chili) in
ISIS, in Persia (at Teheran) in 1820. and at Chios about 1821.
Customs Till the moment (say 1477) that printing spr«d to almost all tne
of early cliief towns of Germany, Italy. Switzerland, France, the Nether-
i.rinters. lands, Spain, England, not a single printer earned away with hun
a set of types or a set of punches or moulds from the master who
liad taught liim, but, in setting up his printing office, each man
cast a sef of types for his own use, always imitating as closely as
possible the handwriting of some particular manuscript which he
or his patron desired to publish. When we compare Schoelfer s
30-line indulgence of 1454 with a manuscript copy of the same
indulgence dated 10th April 1454, now in the bands of a private
coUector at Wiesbaden, we see that the types used in prm ring that
document were specially cast for the purpose after the model of the
handwriting employed for the written copies. We know also that
the types of the 36-line and 42-line Bibles and those of the psalter
of 1457 are the closest possible imitations of the ornamental churcb
handwriting customary at the time of their prodnction. Also, when
we compare the 31-line indulgence of 1454 with the German block-
book called the EnndUhrisi, and both in their turn with the German
MSS of that period (especially the manuscnpt portions in the
printed copies of the indulgences), we see that the cutter of the
text type of the indulgence, asweU as the engraver of the block-
book formed bis characters according to some German handwriting
(book hand) of the period. This imitation extended, not only to
the shape of the letters, but likewise to all those combinations ol
letters (double p, double /. double s. st, ti, tu, re, cu ct, si, de, co,
ci te, «. or, vc, po, fa, he, br-, &c.) and contractions (for pro, -urn,
■em -en, the-, uer, -btis, -bis, sa!, am, tur, qui, qux, quod, seaindum,
liC ) which were then, and had been for many centunes, m use by
scribes. In most, if not all cases, the MSS. which the pnnters
1 See liob. Dickson. ItUrod. of Art of Print, into Hcotl., Aberdeen, ISSJ,
S On the Introduction of printing in various towns, consult Henry Cotton,
A Tvpyg. Ga^-, 8vo, Oxtori, 1831 and (second ser.ee. 8vo Oxford) ISOo (F.
r.aschamp3) Dik. <lc Glogr. 4 tViagc du Libraire. 8vo Pans jS.O: R. a
Jllikii.sfTitlM o/U.( First BMks/rom Ike F.arlieil Presses EslaUishrd t.i Di^rcnt
Cilici >n Europe, 4to, Ne" York, 1884.
imitated were indigenous to the pl.ice wlrerc they settled. Thua
the first printers of Subiaco, though they were Germans and had
most probably learned the art of casting types and printing rt
Mainz, clearly cut their types after the model of some Italian MS.
which was free from any Gothic influence, but written in a pure
Caroline minuscle hand, differing but slightly, from the Carolina
minuscles which the same printers adopted two years afterwards
at Rome. The first Paris printers sUrted in 1470 with a type cast
in tlie most exact manner, on the model of the Caroline minuscla
handOTiting then in vogue at Paris. John de Westphalia, who
introduced printing into Belgium, use 1 from the beginmng a typo
which he calls Venetian. Where therefore there is a great simi-
larity hut no absolute identity, between the types of two printers
(eg Schoeffer and Ulr. Zell), it should be attributed to the simi-
larity of the handwritings which the printers followed rather than
to any attempt on their part to imitate each other's types. To this
universal system (clearly discernible in the first twenty-five years
of printing) of each printer setting up business with a new type
cast by himself, there arc, according to the conjectur»s of a good
manv bibliographers, only two exceptions. One is Albrecht PBster
(see above) ; the other is the Bechtermunczes of Eltville (see above).
Another most important feature in the earliest books is that the UncTen-
printers imitated, not only the handwriting, with all its contrac- ness of .
tions, combined letters, fcc. but all the other peculiarities of the lines.
MSS they copied. There ij m the first place the unevenness of the
lines which very often serves as a guide to the approximate date
of a book, especiallv when we deal with the works of the same
printer, since each "commenced with uneven lines, and gradually
made them less uneven, and linally even. This unevenness was
unavoidable in manuscripts as wcU as in block-books ; but m the
eariiest printed books it is regarded as evidence of the mabililj
of the pnnters to space oat their lines. If this theory be correct,
this inability was perhaps owing to the types being perforated and
connected with each other by a thread, or to some other cause ^
which has not yet been clearly ascertained. But it is not impos-
sible that the unevenness was simply part and parcel of the system
of imiUting MSS., and that only gradually (about 1473 or 1474.
but in some cases later) printers began to see that even lines
looked better than uneven. Tbis seems clear when we obser%'e that
the imitation of MSS. was carried so far that sometimes things
which deviated from the work of the scribe, but had accidentally
been printed in. were afterwards erased and altered in conformity
with the MS. The Paris library, for instance, possesses two copies
of the Liier Epistolamm of Gasparinus Pergamcnsis (printed at
Paris in 1470) m both of which the initial G of the first line and
the initial M of th"e fourth line were printed m, and, whilst tbey
have been allowed to remain in one of the copies, in the other tuey
were regarded as a fault and replaced by a rubricated L and M.
In the second place the initials of books or the chapters of books Inftiala.
in MSS and again in block-books and the earliest products ot
prinring, were always, or at least in most cases (they are prmted
m the indulgences of 1454), omitted by the scribe and tlie printer,
and afterwards filled in by the rubricator. As the latter artists
were sometimes iUiterate and very often fiUed up the gap by a
wrong initial, we find in a good many MSS. as weU as early printed
books smaU letters written either in the margin or m the blank lei t
for the initial, to guide the rubricator. In most cases where thise
letters (which are now called initial directors) were written in the
margin, they were placed as much as possible on the edges of the
pages in orfer that they might bo cut away by the binder as
u^ightly ; but in a van number of incunabula they have remained
tUl the present day.' After a few years these initial director
were in a good n>any books printed in (in lower-case type) with
the text In all cases, whether wntten or printed, they were meant
to be covered by the Uluminated initial-; but, as a matter of fact,
the latter very seldom covers the initial director so completely as
to make it invisible, and in a good many cases the intended lUu-
mination was never carried into effect. *i.o liKi Hrrhct*
With respect to the hyphens, which were used in the 1454 Hnbeii.
indulgences and the 36-Iine and 42-line Bibles, always outside the
printed margin, some of the earliest pnnters didnot «mploy them
at the moment that they started their presses^and in the case of some
printers the non-use or use of hyphens, and t.h'='^ P»f '<>° °^„'^''i'
or inside the printed margin, serve as a guide to the dating of
?hei? products^ After about 1472 they become more uniform ic
'''^CZ^\^Zl^TSllZt^ in MSS mostly to mark theSi^a-
quires, and in block-books to mark each sheet or page ; they do tares,
not occur in printed books before 1472 (at least in no earlier book
with a dite)! when they appear in Joh Nider'e Pr^tor^u:^
Divinx LeqU, published by Johan Koelhoff at Cologne.
CatThwSds Imslodes) were used for the first time abont 1469 by Catch
Joha^neTof Sp^s, at Venice, in thejgt^dition of Tacitus. words
open-
HISTOriCAL. I
TYPOGRAPHY
687
Pa<inm- Pagination or rather foliation was first used by Am. Tlier Hoernen,
'Ko. »t Cologne in 1471, in Adrianus's Liher de Rcmcdiis FortuitOTum
Casuum, having each leal' (not page) numbered by figures placed iu
the end of the line on the middle of each right-hand page.
?!nwn«gs The practice among early printers of imitating and reproducing
o; pro- MSS. was not abandoned till many years after the first printed
^Tuss St book (1454) made its appearance ; and, looking at the books printed,
lirst. say from 1454 to 1477, from our present standpoint of daily im-
provement and alteration, the printing of that period may be said
to have been almost wholly stagnant, without any improvement
or modification. If sonie printers (for instance, Sweynlieyra and
Pannarts at Subiaco and Rome, and Nicolas Jenson at Venice) pro-
duced handsomer books than others, this is to be attributed to the
beauty of tlie MSS. imitated and the paper used rather than to
any superior skill. Generally speaking, therefore, we shall not be
very far wrong in saying that the workmanship of Ketelaer and
De Leempt's first book, published at Utrecht c. 1473, and that of
Caxton's first book issued at Westminster in 1477, exhibit the
very same stage of the art of printing as the 1454 indulgences.
If therefore any evid^ce were found that Ketelaer and De Leempt
and Ca.xtoD had really printed their first books in 1454, there would
be nothing in the workmanship of these books to prevent us from
placing them in that year. And conversely, if the indulgences of
1454 had been issued without a date or without any names to in-
dicate their approximate date, their workmanship would invariably
induce bibliographers to ascribe them to circa 1470, if not somewhat
later. Even after 1477 the alterations in the mode of printing books
proceeded very slowly and almost imperceptibly. It came to be
no longer a universal system for printers to begin business by cast-
ing a type for themselves, but some received their types from one
of their colleagues. And, though there were still many varieties
of types, one sort began to make its appearance in two or three
different places. The combinations of letters were the first to dis-
appear ; but tlie contractions remain in a good many books even
of the 17th century.
Some theories =have been based on, and others have been con-
sidered to be uj^et by, the supposition that the early printers
always required as much type as printers of the present day, or
at any rate so much as would crable them to set up, not only a
whole quire of 4 or 5 sheets ( = S or 10 leaves = 16 or 20 pages),
but even two quires ( = 40 pages). Consequently calculations have
been made that, for instance, the printer of the 42-line Bible required
a fount of at least 120,000 characters. ' But, though the Speculum
HtimaniB Salvationis seems to have been printed by whole sheets
(2 pages), there are numberless proofs that many early books were
printed page by page, even when in small 4to. For instance, in
some books it has been observed that portions of the types with
which the text of the firet, second, or third pages of a quire had
been printed were used to "lock up" the types employed for the
later pages of the same quire, as is evident from the blank impres-
sions of such portions being found on these 4ater pages. Again, in
some books two,* three, or four blank leaves are found at tne end,
showing a miscalculation of the printer. Moreover, the numerous
itinerant printers of the loth century, who established a press for
a short time wherever they went, prove that the furniture of the
earliest printing offices must have been of no great extent.
T/ie Invention Controversy.
Now that we have traced the art of printing from the
moment (1454) that it made its appearance in a perfect
state at Mainz, and have followed its spread to all the chief
places of Europe till 1500, we must take notice of the
controversy which has been carried on for nearly four
hundred years as to when, where, and by whom the art
was invented. For this purpose we will gather up into
a chronological sequence (a) a few of the most important
expressions used by the earliest printers in their colophons,
(6) whatever documentary evidence there may be on the
subject, and (c) some accounts of the earliest authors on
the subject. (The letters A, B, ic, are for the sake of
convenient reference.)
The earliest testimony (A) to which we may refer is tTie notarial
instrument, dated 6th November 1455, of tlic lawsuit between Fust
and Gutenberg, whereby the former sought to recover 2026 guilders
from the latter iiv repayment of 1600 guilders (800 advanced in
1450 or \iV.) and another 800 in 1452), witli liic interest thereon.
Fust sixraks here- of " the work " (line 24), and of "our common
work" (line 60); Gutenberg speaks of "tools" in preparation,
"wovkmeii's wages, house-rent, vellum, paper, ink, &c." (lines 37-
40), of "such woik" (41), and of "the work of the books" (42) ;
I Sec Bernard, Orijine dc f /7n;»i . , i 164, who was a printer himseiratnl s]m.m1<s
very stroogly on tins point.
■ We quote from th« text of the instrument .15 publishrU by J. D. Kocliler,
Ehnn-Rtttung Jokann (JutUnberQ's, Leipsic, 1741.
whereas the judges speak of "the work to the profit of both " (49),
and "their common use" (60). (B) In the earliest' book pub- From
lished with a date (the Mainz psalter, issued 14th August 1457 by book
Fust and Peter Schoeffer) it is said that it was perfected at Mainz colo-
by an "adinventio artificiosa imprimendi ac caracterizandi absque phoo^
calami uUa exaratione " (repeated and varied later ; see p. 681 above). &c. ;
(C) In 1460 the Calholicon was published at Mainz, without the
name of the prmter ; but the colophon, after stating that the book
was printed at Mainz, which town God's mercy had deigned to
prefer above other nations of the earth, adds (D) that the book was
printed and completed " nou calami, stili, aut pennse suffragio, sed
mira patronarum formarumque Concordia, proporcione, et modulo."
This work is considered to have been printed by Gutenberg, and
the mention of God's mercy is regarded as an allusion to the in-
vention of printing. The phrase is, however, also found in the
Liber Sexius Dccrctalium, in the Summa of Thomas Aquinas, and
in the Clcmcnlinee, published respectively on 17th December 1465,
6th March, and 8th October 1467, by Fust and Schoeffer. (E) Oa.
17th January 1465 Adolph II.. archbishop of Mainz, by a publio
decree, appointed Gutenberg as his servant in reward for "his
services," but he does not speak of him as the inventor of printing,
nor even as a prmter. (F) In the Grammatica Rhythmica, published
in 1466 by Fust and Schoeffer, the third line of the colophon runs :
"Hinc Nazareni sonet oda per era Johannis," which was formerly
regarded as an allusion to Johann Fust or Johann Gutenberg, but
which more probably refers to Joliann Brunnen or Pons, the author
of the grammar. (G) On 26th Febriiary 1468 Dr Homery wrote to
the archbishop of Mainz the letter quoted above, from which it
may be inferred that Gutenberg had been a printer, though not a
word is said as to his being the inventor of printing. (H) In 1468
Schoeffer reprinted Fons's Grammatica, and in the colophon it is
said : " At Moguntina sum fusus m urbe libellus mequc (the book)
domus genuit unde caragma veiiit." (I) Schoeffer published on
24th May 1468 the first edition o^ Justin iani Im-pcr. Jnstitulionum
Juris Libri VI., cum Glossa. To this were added by way orcolojihon
some verses commencing : "Scema tabernaculi, ic," in which it is
said that (the ornament of the church) Jesus "hosdedit eximios
sculpendi in arte magistros . . . Quos genuit ambos urbs Moguntina
Johannes, librorum insignes prothocaragmaticos," which is regarded
as an allusion to Johann Gutenberg and Johann Fust as first
printers. (K) In the same year (1463) Johannes Andreas, bishop
of Aleria, says, in the dedication of his edition of St jeronw's
Epistles, published in that year (I3th December) at Rome, lo Pope
Paul II., that "Germany is to be honoured for ever as having been
the inventre^s of the greatest utilities. Cardinal Cusa wished that
the sacred art of printing, which then (under Cardinal Cusa, who
died llth August 1464) seemed to' have arisen in Germany, were
brought to Rome." (L) In 1470 Guil. Fichet, in an octastichon
inserted in the Paris edition of 1470 of the Letters of Gasparinus
of Bergamo, exhorts Paris to take up the almost divine art of w riling
(printing) which Germany is acquainted with. In the same year
Erhard Windsberg writes to the same effect in an epigram inserted
in the Epistolx Phnlaridis published at Paris about 1470. (M)
In 1471 Ludov. Carbo speaks, in the dedication of the Letters of
Pliny to Borso, duke of Modena, of the Germans having invented
printing. Nicolaus Gupalatinus speaks CVenice, 1471) of a German
being ttie inventor of printing, and Nicolaus Perottus of the art
which had lately come from Germany. (N) On 21st May 1471
Nicolas Jenson published an edition of Quintilian, edited and
revised by Ognibene de Lonigo (Omuibonus Leonicenns), who iu the
preface speaks of its printer as "librariae artis mirabilis inventor,
non ut scribantur calamo libri, sed veluti gemma impriniantur, ac
prope sigillo, primus omnium ingeiiiose dcmonstravit." (0) About
1472 the first three printers of Paris published Gasparinus Perga-
niensis's Orthographise Liber, to which is prefixed (in the copy
of the university of Basel) a letter, dated 1st January, from Cuil-
laume Fichet, prior of the Sorbonnc, to Robert Gaguin, in which he
.says that "it is rumoured in Gci many that not far from the city of
Mainz a certaiu Johann Cuteiibeig (Johannes, cui cognomen Bone-
montaiio) first of all invented the art of printing (impressoriam
artem), by means of which books arc made with letters of metal, not
with a reed (as the ancients did), nor witli the pen (as is done at
present)." (P) On 14th July 1474 Joh. Philippusde Lignamine puh-
iished at Rome CKronica Summorum roiitijicum Imperniorumijuc,
in which we find, between two entiles, relating one to 14th July
1459 and the other to 1st October 1459, an undated paragraph in
which it is s.Tid that Jacobus with the surname of Gutenbeig o(
Strasburg and a certain other one named Fuslus, "inipiimeiidaruni
litterarum in membranis cum mctallicis formis pciili, tieceiitas
c.nrtas quisque eoruin per diem faceie innotcscunt apud Moguntiani
Germanic civitatem." The same is said of Mentclin, and (under
1464) of Conrad Swcvnheym,Aruold Pannarts, and Udaliicus Galliis.
(Q) On 23d May 1476 Peter Schoeffer issued the tliinl edition of tho
IiisliliitioHcs of Justinian, with the same imprint as in (he edition
3 The earliest is perhaps the Donalui issued by Tcter Sili(vni;r. possibly
liefore 1456, the colophon of which says that it was lini^hctl: "Arte nova
impriinendi scu caracterizandi . . . absque calami CNai.itioiie.**
688
TYPOGRAPHY
[histoeical.
of 1468 (see testimony I), but with the addition that Maiuz is the
"impressoriae artis inventrix elimatrixque pntna. ,(K) In 1478 an
edition of the Fasdculvs Temporum was issued at Cologne, m wbicn
it is stated under the year 1457 that the printers of books were
multiplied on earth, deriving the origin of their art from Mainz.
The earUer editions merely stated that the pnnters of books were
multiplied on earth. (S) In 1483 Matthias Palmerius of Pisa pub-
lished at Vfnice the Chrm. Euseb., in which under the year 1457
it is stated that students owe a great debt t» Germany, where
Johannes Guttenberg zum JuDgen, knight of Mainz, invented the
art of printing in 1440. (T) In the same year Jac. PhJ. Foresta of
Bergamo pubUshed Supplementum Chronicorum, in which he says
under the year 1458 that the art of printing books was first dis-
covered in Germany, according to some by Guthimberg of Strasburg,
according to others by Faust (see P), according to others by Nicolas
Jenson (fee N). (V) On 6th March 1492 Peter Schoeffer publ>shed
the Niedersdchsische Chronik of Conrad Botho, saying m the colo-
. phon that it was "geprent . . . in . . . Mentz dieeyn anefangk
Prom Sderprentery." (X) At the end of 1494 two Heidelberg professors,
docn. AdamVemher and J oh. Herbst, composed some Latin verses in
mentary honour of Johannes Gensfleisch (a famUy name by which Gutenberg
evidence, was known, and which was turned into the Latin Ansicarus), whom
thev called "primus librorum impressor" and " impressoriEO artis
inventor primus."' (Y) In 1499 Jacobns Wimphehng (born at
SchlettstaSt 1450, died 1528) pubUshed (at Uainz by P. Friedberg)
»n Oratio in Memoriam Marsilii ai Inghm (d. 1396), in which be,
on leaf 22a, praises Joannes Ansicarus in verse on account of His
invention at Mainz. (Z) These verses are preceded by an epitaph
on Johann Gensfleisch," artis impressoriiemventor and repertor,
written in Latin by Adam Gelthus, a relative of Gutenberg. (AA)
In the same year Polydore VergU (De InvenUrrOusB^m.Vemm,
1499 lib. iL cap. 7) says that a certain Peter [Schoeffer ?], a German,
invented in 1442 the art of printing at Mainz in Germany, as he
had heard from the latter's countryman ; this statement was re-
peated in a Venice edition of 1503. In later editions • Peter was
Stered to "Joh. Gutenberg." (BB) In the same year Koelhoff,
Drinter at Cologne, pubUsbed Cromira van der hilhger &UU wn
boellen, in which on fol. 312b it is said : (1) The art of printing was
found first of all in Germany at Mainz about the year 1440 ; (2)
from that time till 1450 the art and what belonged to it were investi-
eated ; (3) and in 1450, when it was a golden year (jubilee), they
Began to print, and the first book that they printed was the Bible
in Latin, in a large letter, resembling that wnth which at present
missals are printed. (4) Although the art was found at Mainz m
the manner m which it is generally employed now, yet the first pre-
figuration was found in Holland from out the Donatuses which were
pnnted there before that time, and from and out of them was taken
the beginning of the aforesaid art, and it was found much more
masterly and exact {suitilis) than that other manner was, and has
become more and more artistic. (5) Omnibonus wrote in a preface
to QuintUian, and in some other books too, that a Walloon Irom
France, named Nicol. Jenson (see N), discovered this art ; but that
■fl untrue, for there are those stiU alive who testify that books were
nrinted at Venice before Nicol. Jenson came there, and began to
Jut and make letters. (6) Bnt the first inventor of pnntmg was a
^tizen of Mainz, named Junker Johan Gudenburch. (7) Jrom
aainz the ari; was introduced first of all into Cologne, then into
Itrasburg, and afterwards into Venice. (8) The origin and progress
df the art were told to the writer verbaUy by Ulnch Zell of Hanau
BtUl printer at Cologne {anno 1499), through whom the said art
came to Cologne. (CC) In 1501 Jacob Wimpheling (see Y), who
stated in his Oratio Quendom contra Invasorca Saardotum, /tarn-
innm, &c., published at Delft e. 1495, that chalcography had been
invented at Mainz, published a work {Oermama Strasburg, Joli.
Priiss, 1501) in which he says (on p. 43) that the invention was
made at Strasburg by Johann GutenVrg of Strasburg, and that it
was perfected at Mainz. (DD) In 1503 Johann Schoeffer (th.i son
of Peter Schoeffer and the grandson of Johann Fust) published an
edition of Hermes Trisraegistus, in which he represents himself as
one of the most distinguished citizens of Mainz, descended from the
most fortunate race who invented the art of pnnUng. (t-t) in
1504 Ivo Wittig, who was a relative of Gutenberg, and a canon
and the keeper of the seal of the St Victor cathedral near Mainz
(of which Gutenberg had been a lay member), erected in the house
" Zum Gutenberg " a memorial stone and an epitaph to Joh. Uuten.
b-rc of Mainz, "qui primus omnium litteras xre impnmendas
invenit " (FF) In 1505, in the German translation of Livy pub-
lished by Johann Schoefler (see KK), the dedication to the emperor
ilaximilian, which was probably written by Ivo Wittig see EE).
speaks of Johann Giittenbergk as inventor of printing (1450) ard
Johann Faust and Peter Schoeffer as improvers of the art. This
work was reprinted six times (1514, 1523, 1533, 1551, 1553) with
the same dedication ; but in 1509 the Brcviarium ifogunlinum
Bays that it was printed at the expense and trouble of Johann
Schoeffer, whose grandfather {i.e., Johann Fust) was tlie lirst in-
ventor and author of the art of printing (see DD). (GG) In 1505
Jacob Wimpheling, in his Epilhoma Germanorum (Strasburg, 1505),
asserts (on leaf xxxviii b. andxxxixa.) that in 1440 Johann Guten-
berg of Strasburg invented there the art of printing. And in 1507,
in his Catal. Episcoporum Argent. (Strasburg, 1507), he says that
the art was invented, though in an imperfect manner, by a certain
Strasburger, who afterwards went to Mainz and joined others work-
ing and trying the same art, where it was, Under the guidanoe ol
Johann Gensfleisch, perfected in the house "boni montis" (Guten-
berg). This ho repeated in 1515. (HH) About 1506 Johannes
Trithemius wrote his Chronicon of Spanheim, published at Frank-
r-_t ;_ mm ;« -.Tl.;nli Vn onTTo /rt ?.flft^ tliof t^o art r»f TirintlTlc
» These verac« were not published at the time, but in the mh century by R
3 li0M.Q>ulhnmmml. de^ bad. Landr,gti>ch. . ill. 163, from the cont«mporery
MB. of Adam Wemher, preserved in the archives of Carlsruhe.
fort in 1601, in which he says (p. 266) that the art of printing
books was discovered afresh at Mainz by Johan Gutenberg, who,
after having spent all his property in accomplishing the new in-
vention, perfected it by the advice and assistance of Johann Fust.
The first propagator of the new art was, after the inventor. Petal
Schoeffer. (II) In 1515 Johann Schoeffer published Joh. Tri-
themius's Compendium sive Breviarium Sistorim Francorum, and
said in the colophon that the book was published at Mainz, the
first inventress of the art of printing, by Johann Schoeffer, grand-
son of the late Johann Fust, the first author of the said art, who
finally from his own genius commenced to excogitate and to investi-
gate the art in 1450, and in 1452 perfected it and commenced
printing, assisted by many necessary inventions of Peter Schoeffer
von Gernsheim, his servant and adopted son. Johann Fust and
Peter Schoeffer kept this art secret, binding all their servants and
domestics-by oath never to reveal it ; hut in 1462 it was mread by
the same domestics into divers countries. (KK) On 9th December
1518 the emperor Maximilian accorded to Johann Schoeffer the
privilege of printing Livy (1518-1519), and says in it that " be has
learned and been advised on the faith of worthy testimonies that
the ingenious invention of chalcography was effected by the printer's
grandfather." (LL) In 1519 Joh. Thunnayer Aventinus (1474-1534)
wrote that "in 1450 Joannes Faustus, a German.-a citizen of Mamz,
invented a new kind of writing, called chalcograpl(y, and completed
it in two years ; it was kept secret by him and Peter Schoeffer, his
son-in-law, but divulged in Germany ten years afteiVards by Faust s
servant, Johannes Guttenberger, a Strasburger." (MM) In a pedi.
greo of Lourens Janszoon Coster of Haarlem and his descendants,
drawn up not later than 1520, it is asserted that in 1446 ' he
brought the first print into the worid." This document, of which
the date 1446 seems to have been altered into 1440, is preservei.
in the Haariem town library. (NN) In 1520 Johan Schott. a
printer at Strasburg and grandson of Johan Uentehn, the trst
printer of that town, published an edition of Ptolemy, at the end
of which he printed the arms of his grandfather with the foUowing
legend • " Insigne Schottorum FamUiae ab Fridenco Rom. Imp. Hi.
Joan. Mentelio primo Typographic Inventori ac suis concessum ;
Anno Christi 1466." Apart from the assert^ion that Mentelin was
the inventor of printing, we may remark that the emperor Frederick
III raised Mentelin to the rank of a nobleman in M66 and granted
him new arms. (00) About 1533 the Neapolitan Mariangelo
Accorso, who had resided at the court of Charies V., wrote on an
edition of Dcmatu3 (in the possession of Aldus Manutius, jun. ) that
"Joh. Faust of Mainz first discovered the art of printing with
metal types, which afterwards he made of lead j his son Peter
Schoeffer'^added afterwards much to polish the said art. Ihis
Dmatiis and Con/esnonalia were printed first of all in 1460. *ausi
derived the suggestion from a Doiiaius ■pnntei before m Holland
from an engrav^ block." This paragrapli is found on p. 411 of the
Bibliolh Apost. ra<i«ino of Angelo Roccha (Rome, 1591). Some
consider its latter part to have been denved from the (^ologne
C%nmi<:;« (BB), and it seems probable that it was a mixture of some
of the above testimonies. (PP) In 1536 Johan Scliott (see NN)
published Historien Handl-Buchlein (Strasburg, 1536), in which
(on leaf b' and b=) he says that "Hans Mentlin of Strasburg in.
vented the art, which, through infidelity, was brought *» Mainz.
On the strength of this and other statements (CC, GG, NN)
the bicentenary of the Strasburg invention was celebrated there
in 1640 (QQ) In 1541 Joh. Arnold (Bergel or) Bergellanus,
who had settled as press- reader at Mainz »«» f "' r^''°"=!y'
pubUshed his Encomium. Chalcographtie (Mainz Fr. Behem, 154 ,
4to) in which the lawsuit between Fust and Gutenberg (A) is
alluded to for the first tUne. Bergel had read Tr.theim s books
(HH). in which the invention is ascribed to Johann Gutenberg with
two coadjutors, Johann Faust and Peter Schoefl^er, which he (Bergel)
had heard confirmed in conversations with Mamz citizens ; he had
also seen some old tools prepared for '^° -<>.* 1^^ "j^"^'""'^
which were still in existence. Gutenberg invented it in 1450
RR) About 1561 Jan Van Zuren (bora at Haarlem in 151,) and
Dirk Volkerts Coornhert (born at Amsterdam ml 522) established
a printing office at Haarlem. Of the former it is alleged that he
ha'd compiled a work on the invention of printing, which 's prcs..™d
to have been lost during the siege of Haarlem m 1573. It j\a.s not
publicly sMen 0? till ^1628, wlen Peter Scriverius pubUshed his
^urcla^voor Lauren, Coster. Scnvenus had oiiy found .ho
'bistoricai.J
TYPOGRAPHY
title, preface, andiDtroduction, in which Van Zuicn contended that
the first foundations of the an were laid at Haailcm, and that it
afterwards accompanied a foreigner to Mainz. In this introduction
he does not mention the name of the inventor, nor n date, but points
in indefinite terms to the house of the inventor as still existing.
(SS) In the same year (1561) Van Zuren and Coonihert published
an edition of the Oficia Ciceronis, in which the lattci, in a de-
dication to the magistracy of Haarlem, refers to the rumour that
the art of printing books was invented first of all at Haarlem, and
was brought to .Mainz by an unfaithful servant and much improved
there. He adds that very old and dignified persons Um\ often told
him, not only the family of the inventor, but also his name and sur-
name, and had explained the first crude way of printing, and pointed
out to him the house of the first printer. (TT) In 1566 Luigi Guicciar-
dini. a Florentine nobleman who had visited the Neihe'riands and
had resided many years at Antwerp, finished a description of the
Netherlands (published in 1567), in which, alluding to Haarlem
he spc.iks of the invention there according to the assertions of the
inhabitants, the evidence of some authors, and other remembrances •
the inventor died before the perfection of his art ; his servant went
to Jlaiuz, where he porfecte<l the art, and hence the report that it
was invented there. (VV) About 156S (it is calculated) Hadrianus
Junius wrote his Batavia. published at Leyden in 1583, with two
prefaces, dated, the one frcm-Leyden, 6tli January 1575, the other
from Delft adnnnum saluUs 1575. On p. 253 he says that the
689
..... . — ........... .„.,.. ,o w,^. yju p. iao ne says tnat tne
opinion that the forms of the letters whereby books aie punted
were first discovered at .Mainz is very inveterate, but old and
eminent inhabitants of Haarlem had assured him that they had
heard from their ancestors that there lived at Haailem more th.-in
128 years before, m a decent house then existing, near tlie niaikct-
place, opposite the royal palace, Lourens (son of) Jan, sui named
Coster who. while walking in the wood near Haarlem, be^an to
shape beechcn bark first into figures of letters, by which, rewiscly
impressed one by one on paper, ho composed one or two lines to
serve as an example for the children of his son inlaw. When this
•succeeded, he beran to .ontemplate greater things, and first of all
invented assisted by his son-in-law Thomas (son of) Peter, a more
gluey and substantial kind of ink (as the ordinary ink was found
to blot), with w-hich he piinted whole tablets with pictures, with
the letters added. Junius had seen books of this kind printed by
Coster (the beginnings of his labours) on the rectos of the leaves
only, not on both sides; the book was written (in Dutch) by an
anonymous author, and entitled Speculiun Xoslrx Salutis in wiiich
care w-as taken that the blank versos could be pasted together so
that the blank pages should not present any unsightliness After-
wards (Coster) changed the beechen characters into leaden and the
Utter again into tin ones. Very ancient wine-pots cast of the
remains of these types were still to be seen in the house of Lourens
which was afterwards inhabited by his great gnndson Gerard (son
of) Ihomas, who had died an old man a few years before When
the new rnerchandise attracted purchasers everywhere, workmen
were added to (Lourens's) household, among whom was a certain
John (whether as was suspected. Faust, or another of the same
name, Junius dul not inquire), who was bound to the work of print-
ing by oath. But, when he thought he knew the art of joinine
the letters and of casting the types, &c.. he stole away, when every
bo<ly had gone to church, the whole apparatus of the types and the
tools prepared by his master, and hastened to Amsterdam, thence
to Cologne until he arrived at Mainz, where he could remain in
safety, and, having opened a work-office, issued within the snace
of one year about 1442, the DoclHnaU of Alexander Callus and
the Tracti of Petrus Hispanus, printed with the same types which
Lourens had used at Haarlem. Junius recollects that Nicolaus
oaie nis tutor, a man of firm memory and venerable old a"e had
told him that as a boy he had often heard a certain bookbinder
Cornells (a man of more than eighty years of age, who ha.l been
an undei-workman in the same office) narrating the stoiy of the
invention (as he had heard it from his n,aster),°the polish,,," and
increase of the crude art. ic , and cuising those nights which he
had passed, dming some months, with the culprit in one bed The
Wndl ^ rxx1l";',«p^«'i"' ''"'^ ^""".'^^ """"'h of the same book
Sedate '??'''" '«f Scnvenus m h,s i«»r«m>u(see RR) placed
^^neH ! , Haarlem invention as far back as 1428. and men
M, !fjy ' "i "! P""""S appeared, "not in the manner as
cu leaf IrTIf " "^ ^T\f^'^ °'^'"'' """^ '■"• b'-' a book was
1428 11„ i H K^ -^^x^" Gutenberg Scriverius based the date
96 n ?5^li ,T/* m'1.''/°'"P"''^ ''y •'°'«P>' >«" M'i^ (born
Adelirfn/' t '■ A P"''i'^'>ed ID 1554 at Sabionetta by Cornelius
^he iri,' "^'"^■."nd^f the year of the Jewish era 5183 ( = 1428)
the author mentions a book (without giving the title) pVin ed at
Venice and seen by h.ni Scriverius, bein| con, nce/tl a this
could only refer to a book printed at Haa.fem. appMed the e„t,y
L A^'''^.E''"= ^"^'^ P^^Pcrum. of which he gavTa des , 'r ,o ,^
together witli several other block-books and eaTly printed booU
23—26
JIM , .oo ^?''^<»n. pushed the date of the Haailcm invention
back to 1420 iefe,r.ng, as his authority, to the san.c Chrmiclc of
Rabbi Joseph Since that time the date of the Haarlem invention ■
has been variously placed between 1420 and 1430
Laier testimonies are mere repetitions of earlier state- Other
meats.' We need not say muchabout the story of Antonio claim,
tambruzzi, who asserted that Pamfilo Castaldi invented ^"'^
printing at Feltre, in Italy, in 1456, and that Faiisto Comes-
burgo, who lived in his house in order to learn the Italian
language, learned the art from him and brought it to
Mainz ; this story, however, has found so much credence
that in 1868 a statue was erected at Feltre in honour of
Castaldi. Nor need we speak of Kuttenberg in Bohemia
where John Gutenberg is asserted to have been born and
to have tound the art of printing. We may also pass over
Johann Fust, later on called Faust (testimonies P, T, DD,
FF, II, KK, LL, 00), as we know from the Mainz law-
suit of 1455 (A) that he had simply assisted Gutenbero-
with loans of money. We may also pass over Johann
MentelinofStrasburg(testimoniesNN,PP),on!yremarking
here that he had already printed a Bible in 1460, and that
he IS mentioned in Strasburg registers as a chrysographer
or gold-writer from 1447 to 1450 ; but of his whereabouts
between 1450 and 1460 there is no record. That he had
gone or had been called, after 1 450 by Gutenberg to Mainz
has been asserted but not proved, and there is no reason
why he should not be one of the two Johannes alluded to
as the prothocaragmahci of Mainz in the Justinian of 1468
(testimony I ). That Nicolas Jenson came to be regarded
in certain circles and for a time as the inventor of printing
IS owing to testimony N being misunderstood. There re-
main, therefore, to be considered the testimonies which beai
on the rival claims of Haarlem and Mainz. The contro-
versy between Germany and Holland was publicly started
as early as 1499 by the Cologne Chronicle (testimony BB),
that between the two towns mentioned not publicly before
lo61 (testimony RR) , while no rival inventor to Guten-
berg was mentioned publicly and in print earlier than
loS8 (testimony VV). , a
in Vh?«rson' o"f' o'/nne'r'''!?' "^ ^'T^"^ ^"^ ""'"^ ^ centred Claims o<
r„tenJrH r^ Henne ( = Hans or Johann) Gensfleisch. called Guteu-
Gutenberg or Gudenberg, the latter name derived from his mother W
whose maiden name was Elsa Wyrich, who live ' in the "H^f ^' ^'
Gutenberg at Mainz He is supposed to have been born at tTt
i3 ,1°i,"'t '""• ,^!J' f"' mentioned in a Mainz document,
dated 16th January 1430. In a document of 28th March 1430 he b
1^34^1 S?h q"",° "I^'ILY""'''. Documents from 14th March'
dnnnL ,h,f , P'*°'S^'^"" P'°™ ^'"^ "> ^^^^ ^^^'^ »t Strasburg
fi « ^«t^ 1^ 'V*"'i documents dated respectively 17th Octobef
Ihth November 1455, 21st June 1457. 10th AprU 1461, shmv
that he was in or near Mamz on those days. By a decree of 17th
January 1465 the archbishop of that town rewarded him for .'hu
fr^rt '"^ '," '''^'"'"^ "i ^' "°""y. dated 26th Februar^
1468, he IS spoken of as dead There are, moreover, six forged
documents (including some relics of an ancient press bearin" the
M h I 1 \''!'.?'','o''k'?'^^'"^ -"'' ""'^'^ "24, 1437. 3d July f453.
.^ V v,^ V"^' 19";.''""' "^3> ^"'1 "> <'°t>v i" an anniveisarium
which has been applied to Gutenberg, but does not concern him
(see Hesseis, Gutenberg).
in 'l'/?r,Y ^'""' ",''^" printing 'ras believed to have been invented
ni 14 0, the recoids of the Strasburg lawsuit of 1439, between
Gutenbcg and some Stiasburg artisans about certain industrial
nudei takings (as the art of polishing stones, the manufacture of
looking-glas.'ies;, were considered to prove the invention of printin?
at Strasburg, "Ot, however, by Mentelin, as had been thoSght b?
some (t«t.mon,c_s NN. PP) but by Gutenberg. The record! cams
to ight about 1,40. just when Schoepflin, the principal discoverer
had been commissioned to search for documents of this kind'
Doubts may be suggested as to their genuineness, but they have
all perished partly during the revolution of 1 793 and partly durine
the siege of Strasburg in 1870. However, nobody would now
assert that pnnting was invented in 1439 or at Strasburg; and
those who still believe that Gutenberg was the inventor of printing
I*;l^ jT °"'y ^s showing that he was a mechanic as early ai
1439, and that he understood the art of pressing.'
T^V^^u p"^^ "' "■"" ■"" *""■ «»"«*«' ^y G"- Meermu,, Origtta
" Set Hesseis, Gulnbtrg, pp. 2S, ISS, 4e. %
~ "" xxni — 87
690
TYPOGRAPHY
[nlSTOEICAt.
Tlic first Qoeument that connects Gutenberg with the art of print-
in. s the notarial instrument of 6th November "5. (test.mony
A f R, t it savs nothin" of an invention or a new mode of prmt-
fnl And yctYhe o°casio°n was such as to make it almost .mnerat.ve
in"Gutenber" to mention it, for ho had spent 600 guilders of
^■.t-s money apparently without printing anything.' and was on
Ihe po^t oT'befng robted by the' latter and having taken away
)rom h m al thatlie had made and done to give effect to h.s idea
or Tnlrtion In the next testimony (B), i.e., the earliest Ma nj
tooksw^th printed dates (1457 to 14G7), there .3 evidence tha he
„r of printing is not only not kept secret bvt ff X W-^ '^'f
nt Main" and its importance fully realized and advertised , but
^mullthev speak of a "nova ars imprimendi" and an 'adinventio
mmmmm
vhkhtirv published. Those who believe that Gutenberg was
r.h"c bol' Johann Fo^s,^was Peter SchoefTer's press-corrector.
I V to I) of the lirst fourteen years of printing 454 to 1468^at
]^Z.L see that they all come rom -^ lUe f.^^Every^bo^^
^rriSHSSA^^--=r^'-^
^^^ M f'nf ,11 thk mibl city the art whicli Mainz and Germany pos-
the midst ol all this puuiiLiLj(, un. 11 - \\.,\„, The supposed
services, but docs not ^1^"=^% "'"'"' Unmerv in his ioUer to the
-S:^^^y ^\^'^^i^^^P;^ Outenbcrg-s print-
^-dh-^r^n:^:X:\:'^^^^ of the mventio.
F«n if we reject testimony 'l as being merely local, testimony K
meSl l^aks of the art of printing as having arisen in Germany^
Tl fs tcsUmonj' however, dies not come from Germany nor from
M fnJ •mrfLom Italy and is supposed to^we Us inspiration to the.
"rccrman pi nt rs who had CsUblishcd a printins office at Subiaco
lri4C5 and in 1407 at Rome, and who most likely learned their
craft at Main". But, as the two printers are mentioned in the
iest mony and as it docs not speak of Gutenberg, nor of Mainz it
Ltf more likely that it was merely derived from the colophons of
Fust aTd SclioefTcr or from something that Cardinal Cusa had
S" 'ring h^s embassies in Gcr,nan>^ To the M^ij-olorjo-
\v,. mnit also ascribe M the two testimonies of 14/0 (L) aim ^o)
ihc Uiree 0147 1)1 al five of which come from France and Italy^
At last in 1472. we find in testimony 0 tlic invention of printing
air bed to Gutenberg of Mainz, but it is mentioned as a rumour
Sm comes from Fiance. Guil. Fichet of Paris, who gives ,t is
I',';!' ^°'.'.rf Jrj,1 L,.,l ,1,. rumour from the three German printers
^ ' ~! 1 .. • . I 1 ii.^* Un itic iinilpr
lad as yet not pnnlcU anything- , , ,,.
t Vcmt U the prcacDt not the perfect tense.
who commenced printing at Pans in 1470. But, as two of thea
had resided, immediately before they came to Paris in the univer.
sitv of Basel, and are supposed to have learned their art there,
the rumour is ascribed to '■ Bertolff von Hanauwe ' who appears
in the lawsuit of 1455 as Gutenbergs servant, and .W'ho was printing
at Basel in 146S. Perhaps it came rather from information which
Fichet obtained from the St Victor cathedial near Mainz as he
sneaks of the art having been invented not far from thatto\yn.
Testimony P (1474) again comes from Italy, from Rome and wa»
perl a% derived from one of the German printers settled there at
that time It merely speaks of Gutenberg, Fust, and Mentehn as
printers, but says not a word which even touches u^on the invention
of the art. In testimony Q (1476) we have dehnite mention of
Mainz as the inventress of the art ; it is given as an addition to tho
Mainz colophon of 1463 (see I). In 1478 Mainz is again mentioned
in a Cologne testimony (R), which gives evidence of research, as it
is an amplification of an earlier one in which Mamz was not men-
tioned. Germany, Gutenberg, and Mainz are again mentioned in
the Venetian testimony S (1483), which gives for the &rst t^e
1440 as the date of the invention. In the same year we have t^^o
earlie? tes imonies (P and N) worked into one (T), to the elTect that
printing was invented either by Gutenberg or by Fust or by
Jenson.^ Testimony V (1492^ which state* that PJ-ting »-
mcnced at Mainz, is Ptac^caUy equivalent to Q. In 1494 and
1499 we have three German testimonies (X, Y, Z) as to Gutenberg
b "nVthe inventor of printing; these, however come not from
Mainz, but from Heidelberg. Z is given by a "'^Jvfof fJntenberg,
Adam Gclthus ; and, as the latter resided at He delberg, it is clear
hat" e was the real source of the.other two Heidelberg testimonies
•i and Y) Two years later, when Wimpheling, the author, of
[iZony Y, had left Heidelberg, he ascribed (CC) the invention
of prnitin- to Strasburg, though stating that Gutenberg was the
?nven?or ° Testimony AA is recorded above to show the great con-
fulfon that reigned In people's minds about tbe jor^n ion We
must add to these testimonies those of J.^O* (EEJVnd 150S ((!')
which are owing to Ivo Wittig, a relative of Gutenberg and a
ranon and the "keeper of the seals of the St Victor cathedral
ne^rVainz, of which Gutenberg had "een a lay member according
to its liber fralcrnilalis. Thus in the period from 1468 to 1505 we
havr(l) seieral vague statements made in lUly and F^nce a3 to
ihTart of printing being known or practised or invented m Ger-
many statements which arose from the books and colophons pub^
Ushed at Mainz ; (2) one item of rumour in 1472 that J""enberg
Evented it near that town ; (3) two Mainz statements, of 1476 and
1492 and one Cologne statement, of 1478, that 't 'ivas mvented *J
Mairlz (4rthree clrman statements, of 1492, 1494, and H99. that
GuU^be g had invented it ; and (5) two Mainz statements, of 1504
and 1505 to the same cEfect. It is to be particularly noticed that
the statements (2 4, 5) which speak distinctly of Gutenberg being
the WO? <ln be clearly traced to Gutenberg himself and two of
^'lee'i^f Sen how slender the basis is for the tradition ttat Contra-
tradiction was made in 1499 (testimony BB) in ^Chromele pub-
Lhcd at Colosne. To facilitate the understanding o this testimony
^ell s testimony various attempts have been made to ex-
having perfected the art ^"'ou^ aiie i ,,,i,ally printed
(.. 1533, tl.at block-pnn ting^had gi n ^^^^^^^^^ >-,„„,,„ .,
also been asset cd tliat ''o f» '>'"'= , ■ „co"iaphical matters.
but the CAroiuricis »^;'-\'ly/"-^."^,?''"'.' iiTelf Icanied his lit in
^^tionofGu.nbergw.,o..a..^ccnth^^^^
HISTORICAL.]
TYPOGRAPHY
691
tions failing to weaken Zcll's testimony, vi-e must see how far it can
be brought into harmony with other circumstances and the testi-
monies MM, KR, SS, TT, VV, XX, YY, which claim the honour of
I.ouren3 the invention for Haarlem in Holland. Testimonies RR and SS
•Coster's do not mention the name of the inventor. But the former is a
«laims. mere introduction destined for a complete book that was lost during
the siege of Haarlem in 1573 before it was printed ; we are, there-
fore, not entitled to s^y that Van Zuren did not know the name.
SS may have omitted the name, because the publication of Van
Zuren's work was in contemplation at the time that it was written.
That Guicciardini (testimony TT) inl5C6did not mention the name
of the reputed Haarlem inventor cannot be considered as an in-
dication that it was not known or had not yet been "mvented"
when he wrote, as his accounts of the cUies of the northern
Netherlands are all very meagre and were for the most part
derived from correspondence. In Junius's account (VV), however,
we find every particular that could be desired. He begins by re-
ferring to the diCBculty of vindicating the honour of the invention
for Haarlem on account of the deep-rooted and general opinion that
it took place at Mainz. Ho then mentions that Lourens (son of Jan)
surnamed Coster resided at Haarlem "more than 128 years ago" and
gives us to understand that in the year indicated by that phrase
he invented the art of printing. As Junius's book was not pub-
lished till after his death, in 1588, and the two prefaces in it are
dated 1575 (he died 16th June 1575), the number 128 is supposed to
go hack from Ihe date when he actually wrote his account, which he
13 calculated to have done about 1568. Thus we get the year 1440
as the supposed date of the Haarlem invention, though, if we based
cur calculation upon the date of the preface, the year 1446 or 1447
would have to be assumed. But, as Junius adds that Coster's types
were stolen by one of his servants, who fled with them to Mainz,
and establishing there a printing office printed within a year's time,
in 1442, two books, he must, if this latter date is correct, have
meant 1440. By testimonies XX and YY we see that in the 17th
century the date of the Haajjem invention was first put back as
far as 1428, then to 1423 ; and since then it has usually been re-
garded as 1423, especially after it was discovered that the Haarlem
wood where Coster is said to have cut his wooden letters was destroyed
during a siege in 1426.
The researches as regards the reputed Haarlem inventor have
hitherto not been made in a manner adequate for scientific purposes.
It would appear that by the pushing back of the date of the inven-
tion, in spite of Junius, to 1420-1428, two inhabitants of Haarlem
have been mixed up by the Dutch authors on the subject. (1)
Lourens Janszoon, who never bore the surname Coster, and whose
existence seems to be authenticated by documents from 1404 to
1439, was sheriff, and a wine merchant and innkeeper, and is sup-
posed to have died in 1439. About 1870, however, researches
brought to light that there had been (2) a Lourens Janszoon Coster
at Haarlem, duly authenticated by genuine official documents as a
chandler and innkeeper, from 1436 to 1483, who went away from
Haarlem in the latter year. The name of this man and some genea-
logical particulars known of him fit into the story of Junius,
though there are certain particulars in Junius's account which
cannot yet be properly explained.
Junius bases his account of the Haarlem invention on three
oooks, a Dutch edition of the Speculum Eumanee Salvationis,
the DoctrinaU, and the Tracla of Petrus Hispanus (Pope John XXI.).
The first work, he said, was printed by Coster himself as a first
specimen of his art, and it would seem from his words that he con-
sidered the work to be printed with wooden types. The two Dutch
editions of the Speculum, however, were printed, '.ike the two Latin
editions of the same work, with movable metal type, though in one
of the Latin editions there are twenty leaves the text of which is
printed apparently from wooden blocks. The Doclrinale and the
Trncts of Hispanus were printed, Junius says, at Mainz by Coster's
workman with the types which he had stolen from Coster. Of the
Hispanus Tracl3 do edition has yet come to light that would answer
Karly to Junius's description. But of the Doctrinale we have four edi.
DutcL tions, all printed in the same type (i.) as the four editions of the
tj-^its Speculum, With these same types are printed no less than six
cditionsof the short Latin grammar of ^lius Donatus; and editions
of this school-book printed in Holland were, according to Zell in
the Cologne Chronicle, the models for the printing at llainz, which
commenced about 1450. As there are no other editions of Donatus
printed in Holland that could be placed before the year 1 450, the
claims of Haarlem and Holland are based on them ; and we will,
therefore, briefly describe the types and books which must be con-
nected with the Specula, Doclrijialia, and Dmaluscs jast mentioned.
In one of the editions of the Speculum in Dutch occur two leaves
printed in a different type (ii. ) from the rest of the work. This
type is in its turn so very much like another typo with which a
^vo^k of Laur. Valla {Facetix Morales) is printed that we link it
(iii. ) on to the two just mentioned Then again type iii is, in
some of its capitals, identical with a type (iv.) used for a work of
Ludovicus de Eoma, Singularia Juris, at the end of which, on the
last leaf, co^umences another work, printed in a different type (v.).
Type vi. is identical with type v., except in its capital P, which is
larger We have also works printed in two difl'erent types (vii..
viii.) which both show such a great family likeness to each other
and to types i. to vi. that it would not be advisable to separate
them without evidence that they do not belong to the same office.
With these eight types, which we cannot at present separate, forty-
seven different books were printed, so far as we know at present.
In type i. — four editions (two in Latin,' two in Dutch) of the
Specuhim Humante Salvationis, a work which consists of woodcuts
with explanatory text underneath ; a Dutch version of The Seven
Peiiitential Psalms ; one Donatus of 27 lines ; two editions o(
Donatus of 28 lines ; a Liturgical Book in 16mo ; three editions
of Donatus of 30 lines , one Donatus, in French, of 29 and 30 lines
on a page ; four editions of Doctrinale of 32 lines ; one Catonis
Disticha of 21 lines. In type ii.- — two leaves only (49 and 60) of
one of the Dutch editions of the Speculum, In type iii. — Lauren-
tius Valla, Facctix Morales, &c In type iv : — lour editions of
Donatus of 24 lines ; Lud (Pontanus) de Roma, Singularia Juris ;
Lud. (Pontanus) de Roma ('), Treatise on Canonical Law {I). In
type v.: — Pius II., Tractatus ct Epitaphia (printed at the end of
the Singularia Juris) , Guil. de Saliceto, De Salute Corporis , one
Donatus of 26 lines ; five editions of Donatus of 27 lines ; one Doc-
trinale of 26 lines ; one Doctrinale of 28 lines ; one Doctrinale of
29 lines , one Doclrinale of 32 lines , Catonis Disticha ; Guil. da
Saliceto, De Salute Corporis, together with Turrecremata, De Salute
Animx; PiusII., Tractatus de Amore, kc; Pindar of Thebes, /^loWoj
HomcncBC Epitome, cum Prasfatione Pit II. ; another edition of the
same work. In type vi — one Donaties of 26 lines; one Donatus
of 27 lines. In type vii — one Donatus oi 27 lines. In type viii:
— an Abcccdarium of two leaves and a Donatus of 31 lines. ^
Type V must have been in existence before 13th September 1474,
as there is evidence that a copy of the Saliceto, printed in that
type, was bought for the monastery of St James at Lille by its
abbot Conrad an Moulin, who filled that oflice from the end of 1471
to 13th September 1474 As a work in this type (the Tracts and
Epitaphs of Pius II.) is printed at the end of the Singularia Juris
in type iv. , we may assume -that this type existed a considerable
time before type v As the books printed in types iv and v. show
greater progress in style and workmanship than the books printed
in types i to iii , we must assign the latter to an earlier period
than the former There is indeed positive evidence that type L
must have existed a considerable time before the end of 1473, as
fragments of a Donatus printed in that type were used by a book-
binder at Haarlem to strengthen the binding of an account-book of
the cathedral church in that town for the year 1474 From these
facts alone we may safely assume that none of the forty seven books
can be dated after 1474, or, if any, only a few in types v and vii.
On the other hand, four of the works in type v cannot be dated
before 1458, as they bear the name of Pius II., who was not elected
pope till that year. When we consider that there are twenty differ-
ent editions of the Donatus printed in these types, and place an
interval of about eighteen months between the successive editions,
we get a period of some thirty years from about 1445 to 1474 for
the issue of the twenty editions. That we reach the year 1445 by
such a calculation is purely accidental ; but there is evidence that
in 1446 and 1451 printed^ Doctrinalia were bought at Bruges and
Valenciennes by Jean Le Robert, the abbot of Cambray, according
to two entries in his diary, preserved in the archives at Lille.
And, as we know positively that there was no printing done at Mainz
before 1454, nor anywhere else so early, we can only apply these
entries to the Doctrinalia printed in Holland in the same types as
the four editions of the Speculum (on which Junius based the tra-
dition of the Haarlem invention), and six editions of the Donatus,
which we may fit into Zell's account That the editions of the
Speculum, of the Donatus, and of the Doctrinale in type i. may be
dated as early as 1445 1454 is clear when we compare them with
the earliest products of Mainz printing, for which the Donaiuses,
according to the Cologne Chronicle, served as models. For instance,
no difference in workmanship can be detected between the Doncituses
printed in Holland and the three editions of /)o!ia<iiS in the 36-line
Bible type and the four editions of the same in the 42-line Bible
type, all seven presumably printed at Mainz and before 1456. Nor
is the workmanship of the Spcmla (in type i.) or of the FacetuB
Morales (in type iii. ) different from or later than that of the Mainz
Cathnlicon of 1460
It has been pointed out above that the first products of the art
of printing were not meant to be anything but faithful imitations
of manuscript books, and that no niateri.ll deviations from the
general plan become observable till about 1473-1477 Nowhere is
the plan of the MS period more strictly adhered to than in the
1 Twenty leaves of one of the Latin editions a'-e apparently printed from
wooden blockii, the text as well as the engravings
3 For a detailed list of these books, and further paiticulirs regarding them,
see J, n. Hessels, Haarlem, the Btrlhplare oj Printing, London, 1SS7. p. 25 sq.
» The abbot speaks of Doclrimi^itt "gette"or "jettezen moIIe,"and the phrase
is. as Bernard {Origine, i. 97 £(/.) shows by eiglit examples from 1474 — the year
when pvinting is first officially spoken of in France — to 1693, and down to tho^
present day, applied to typographically.printed booka only
692
T Y p o G r; a p H y
[hlSTORICAU
forty-seven books of wliicl. wc arc spcakins. They arc all «i lout
Stures, without initial directors, ^vithcut hyphens, withont
^tcluvords, that is to say, without any of those characteristics
^hich we see gradually, one after the other, come into almost
general use from 1473 (if not earlier) to 1480. The four editions
If the Spccvlum are all entirely printed anopisthograpliically, tlie
^•oodcuti at the top of the pages as well as the '^Pl='"^t°7 '"'
(in type i.) underneath, whi.-li would hardly be the case if the
books had been printed after 1471. when the printing "f ^oO'if '=•
together with text in inovable types, had already been k.io^rn for
eleven years. Their tvpes have nothing m common with any of
those us.d in the Neth^rlan.ls after 1473 but remind U3 m. every
respect of the earlier peiiod of th.. Dutch block-books and MSS.
Thev are all, so far as we know, without any col&phon (except such
i word as explirU). which yould, for a collection of ffty.-f ^'f"
compatible with a periud aft.T 1471, but not with tho
Moreover, out of the
books, bu ri ,. , ,,,,
•arlier rciiod of the block-books aiid Mbb. __
forty-seven books'no less than thirtj--five are pnnted on vellum,
ivhich is incompatible with a period after 1471, when pnntm- on
paper had become universal, but not with the earlier period of the
There is, therefore, uo reason whatever to discredit ZeU'sstate^.
ment in the Cologixe' ChronicU of 1499, that the Z)o,ia(«.«-» printed
in Holland were thn models, the-" beginning ' of the art of print-
Inven-
tion at
Haarlem m noiiaiiu «t:ic m" iiiuvi.j..3, ^^-^ — o-----;-o , - . - ^, ■ l
by in- at Main/, nor that of Hadrianus Junius in his Batavui, that
loster. prTnting was invented at Haarlem by Loureus Janszuon Coster..
The two statements were made independently of each other. 1 hat
of ZcU must be regarded as a direct contradiction of the vague
rumours and statements about an invention of printing at Mainz
in Germany by Gutenberg, which gradually crept into print m and
aftor 146S in'ltaly and France, and which found their way into
Germany ab,.ut 1476, after Mainz and G.-rnuny had given the
CTcatest publicity to tlie existence of the art in their midst for more
than tweuty-twi years, but had been silent about an invention
and an inventor. And, though "Zell accords to Mainz the honour
of havin" improved the art and having made it more artistic he
denies it the hon.mr of havirg invented or begun it, and this latter
honour was never claimed by that towu bclorc 14/6. Junius s
account-is the embodiment of a local tradition at Haarlem, the lirst
written traces of which w» have in a pedigree (testimony SIM) ot
the famUy of the reputed Haarlem inventor, which must have ex-
ited at least as early as 1520. His account has been indirectly
confirmed by the finding of several fragm.-nts at Haarlem, all belong-
ma to the groupa of books mentioned above, but still more by the
discovery of several fragments of the Donatuses printed in the
SiKCutum type, all used as binder's waste by Cornells, the book-
binder, the very man whom Junius alleges to have been the servant
of Coster. As the ca^e stands at present, tlierefore, we have no
choice but to say that the invention of printing with movable
metal types took place at Haarlem about the year 1445 by Lourens
Jaaszoon Coster.
Early Types and their Fabrication.
We mnst now take notice of two theories or traflitions
which have been curreut for a long time as to some in-
tervening stage brcween the art of block-printing and the
art of printing with movable cast types. • One theory or
tradition would have it that the inventor of printing, after
the idea of single, individual, movable types had arisen in
his mind, practised his new invention for some consider-
able time with wooden types, and that he came only
gradually to the idea of movable types cast of metal.
Wooden Junius gives us to understand that in his opinion the Dutch
types. SpKulum was printed with such wooden types. Of Johaiin Guten-
berg it was asserted that he printed his hrst Bible with wooden
types. The Mainz psalter, printed in 1457 by Joh. Fust and Peter
Schoeffer, was alleged to have bcea printed with wooden types, m
which case the 4th edition, published in 15u2, and even the 5th
Edition of 1516, would be printed with wooden types, the same
being used for them as for the editions of 1457 and 1459. Thcod.
Bibliandet was the first to speak (in 1548) of such types and to de-
scribe thein : first they cut their letters, he says, on wood-blocks
the size of an entire page ; but, because the labour and cost of that
vay was so great, they devised movable wooden types, perforated
and joined one tu the other by a thread.' Bibliander does not say
that he had ever seen such types himself, but Dan. Speckle or
Specklin (died 1589), who ascribed the invention to Mentelu, asserts
that be saw some of these wooden types at Strasburg.' Angelo
1 We do not iillude to Tritheim'3 assertion th»t the Catholicm of 1460 was
prinloi from wooden, blocks; for this Btory. vthich he declares he had heard
from Peter Schoeffer, if it were troe, would l)e1ong to the historjr ?> blocl:-
printing. Nor need we «p«ik of BergelUnuss verees (1541), In which he dis-
tisetly alludes to carved blocks. n • y.
« Cimnmiatio it Baliont Commidii Omiiiim Itnyuaram tl liHraViim, ^oncD,
U48, p. Sa
" 'iron. Anent., MS., ed. Jo. Schilterua, p. 442.
Eoccha asserted in 1591 that he had seen at Venice types perforated
and joined one to the other by a thread, but he does not say
wliethcr they were of wbod or of metal." In 1710 ?aulus Pater
ffssertcdthat he hSd seen wooden types made of tlie trunk of a
box-tree, and perforated in the centre to enable them to be joined
together by a thread, originating from the office of Fust at Mainz.
Bodmafl, as late as 1781, saw the same types in a worm-eaten con-
dition at Mainz; and Fischer stated in 1802 that these relic*
Were used as a sort of token of honour to be bestowed on worthy
apprentices on the occasion of their finishing their term.
Besides those who believed in these wooden types from the fact
that the letters (especially in the Speculum) vary among themselves
in a manner which would not be the case had they been cast from
a matrix in a mould, there were authors and practical pnnters who
attempted to cut themselves or to have cut for them some such
wooden types . as were alleged to have been used by the early
printers. Some of them came to the conclusion that such a process
would be quite practicable , others found by experiment that it
would, in the case of small types, bo wholly impossible. Up to
the present time no book or document has come to lignt which can
be asserted to have been printed with such single, movable, woodeii
types. But nearly all the experiments to which we have alluded
vvers made with the idea that the inventor of printing, or the earliest
printers, started, or had to start, with as large a supply of type as
a modern printer. This idea is erroneous, as it is hardly any longer
denied that, for a good many years after the first appearance of the
art, printers printed their books (large or small) not by quires (qua-
ternions or quinternions) but page by page.6 Therefore, all con-
siderations of the experimenters as to the impracticability of such
wooden types, on account of the trouble and length of time required
for the cutting of thousands of types, faU to the ground in face of
the fact that the earliest printers required only a very small quantity
of tj-pe, in spite of the peculiar forms (combined letters, letters
with contractions, S:c.) which were then in vogue.
The other theory would have it that between block- Scnlpto
printing and printing with movable cast tj-pes there was (^^
an intermediate stage of printing with " sculpto-fusi "types, 'V^'
that is, types of which the shanks had been cast in a quadri-
lateral mould, and the " faces," i.e., the characters or letters,
engraved by hand afterwards. This theory was suggested
by°sorae who could not believe in wooden types and yet
wished to account for the marked irregularities in the types
of the earliest printed books. .
Gerardus Meerman, the chief champion of this theoryj based it,
not only on the words of Celtes [Amores, in. 3), who in 1502 de-
scribed Mainz as the city "quaj prima sculpsit solidos are char-
actercs," but on the frequent recurrence of the word sculptuS m tho
colophons of the early printers (for Jenson and Husner of Strasburg,
see p. 681 above). Seiisenschmid in 1475 said that the Codex Jits-
tiniamis was "cut" {iusculptus), and that he had "cut" {sculpnl)
the work of Lonibardus, In Psalta-ium. Meerman also explained
the account of the invention of printing .by Tdthemius'asmean-
iu» that, after the rejection of the first wooden tjTes, the inventors
discovered a method of casting the bodies only of all the letters of
the Latin alphabet from what tliey called matrices, on which they
cut the face of each letter ; and from the same kind of matrices a
method was in time discovered of casting tho complete letters of
sufficient hardness for the pressure they had to bear, which Iette«
they were before— that is, when the bodies only were cast— obliged
to cut.' In this way Meerman explained that the.Speeuhanvraa
printed in sculpto-fusi types, although iii.the one page of which ho
gives a facsimile there are nearly 1700 separate tj-pes, of which 259
alone are e's. Schocptliii claimed the same invention.Jor Stras-
bur" and believed that all the earliest books printed there were
pioSiiced by this means. Both Meerman B d Schoepflin agreed
that encraved metal types (tiUrx in tere fCiUptee) were m use for
many ycare after the invention of the punch and matris, mention-
ing among others so printed the Mainz psalter, tlic Catholicon of
1460 the Egoestein Bible o! 1463, and even the Pneccjitonum oi
Nider, printed at Strasburg in 1476. But the gicat dificulty con-
nected with the process of fii-st casting.the shanks and afterwams
engraving the faces of the tJTJOS has become apparent to those who
have made experiments ; and it seems more proboble that the terais
scu!i>crc, exsculpm, insailpcrc are only a figurative lluaon to the
first process twards producing the tjTpes, namely the catting ot tne
punch, which is artistically more important to the fabrication of
types than tho mechanical .casting. -aU the more as SchoelTer m
H6S makes his GranmaCica Vctus Ehylhrnjcy. say. 1 am cast at
4 Vc Bihliothem Vaticnna, Rome, 1591, p. 412.
5 Cc COT)i(ini« Jfirora'o. I.«ipsic. 1710, p. 10.
6 See. for instance, W. Blades. I.i/t ofCailiit, I. SO.
' Jnnalesnirsaiigitiisc' ii. 421 : " Post hiEC inventis SUCCCTSenmtsoMiIiort;
Inveneiuntque liioduTii fiiiidondi fonnas omnium Utini alphaboti hterarum,
quas ipsi matiices noininabant, ex quibus nirsum aencos siye s'^mneos cha^'
teres fuudebant, ad omutm iiressunni sufficientes. quos pnlis manlbus sculp*
bj^t" " OnjiuM Ti/P"3™i'''''*'T'" Hague. UC^ Api»im^ p. 4.. ,
H3ST0E1CAL.1
TYPOGRAPHY
693
trr«»
3^ is
Mainz,"ian expi'cssion which could hardly be anythiDg but a figura-
tiT9 alliwion to the casting of the types.
- Granting that all the earlier works of typography pre-
served to U3 are impressions of cast-metal types, there are
still differences of opinion, especially among practical
printers, as to the probable methods employed- to cast them.
It is considered unlikely that the inventor of printing
passed all at once to the perfect typography of the punch,
the matrix, and the mould. Bernard ' considered that the
types of the Speculum were cast in sand, as that art was
certainly known to tho silversmiths and trinket-makers of
the 15th century ; and he accounts for the varieties observ-
able in the shapes of various letters on the ground that
several models would probably be made cf each letter, and
th^the types, when cast by this .imperfect mode, would
require some touching up or finishing by hand. He ex-
hibits a specimen of a word cast for him by this process
■which not only proves the possibility of casting types in
this manner but also shows the same kind of irregularities
as those observable in the types of the Speculum.
But here again it is argued that in types cast by this or any other
primitive method there would be an absence of unifonaiity in what
founders term "height to paper." Some types would stand higher
than others, and the low ones, unless raised, would miss the ink and
cot appear in the impression. The comparative rarity of faults of
this kind in the Spmtlum leads one to suppose that, ii a process of
sand-casting had been adopted, the difficulty of uneven heights had
been surmounted either by locking up the forme face downwards,
or by perforating the types either at the time of casting or after-
wards, and holding them in their places by means of a thread or
wire. To this cause Ottley attiibuted the numerous misprints in
the Speculum, to correct which would have involved the unthread-
ing of every line in which an error occurred. And, as a still more
striking proof that the lines were put into the forme one by one,
in a piece, he shows a curious printer's blunder at the end o/ one
page, where the whole of the last reference-line fs put in upside
down, thus: —
J3oe tuas itifct gUpenOe mse nict buctcnor.
A "hun" of this magnitude could hardly have occurred U the
letters had been set in the forme type by type.
Another suggested mode is that of casting in clay motilds,
by a method very similar to that used in the sand process,
Eouldi ^^^ resulting in similar peculiarities and variations in the
types.
Ottley, who was the chief exponent of this theory, suggested
that the types were made by pouring melted lead or other soft
metal into moulds of earth or plaster, after the ordinary manner
used from time immemorial-in casting statues of bronze and other
articles of metal. But tlie mould thus formed could hardly avail
for a second casting, as it would be scarcely possible to extract the
type after casting without breaking the clay, aud, even if that could
be done, the shrinking of the metal in cooling would be apt to
warp the mould beyond the possibility of further use, Ottley there-
fore suggests that the constant renewal of the moulds could be
effected by using old types cast out of them, after being touched
up by the graver, as n\odels, — a process which he tlji^nks will
account for the varieties observable in the different letters, but
which would really cause such a gradual deterioration and attenua-
tion in the type, as the work of casting progressed, that in the end
it would leave the face of the letter unrecognizable as that with
which it began. . It would therefore be more reasonable to suppose
that one set of models would be used for the preparation of all the
moulds necessary for the casting of a sufficient number of types to
compose a page, and for tho periodical renewal of the moulds all
through the work, and that the variations in the types would be
due, not to the gradual paring of the faces of the models, but to
the different skill and exactness with which the successive moulds
would b^ taken. It is evident that the sand and cUy methods of
casting types above described must be slow The time occupied
after the first engraving of the models in forming, drying, and clear-
ing the moulds, in casting, extracting, touching up, and possibly
perforating the types required for one page, would exceed the time
required by a practised xylogr.ipher for the cutttn;; of a page of
text upon a block. But he that Ims gone through the trouble of
casting separate inov.ible ty].cs has a clear gain over the wood-
block printer In having a fount of movable types, which, even if
the metal in wliiili ihcy were cast were only soft lead or pewter,
might be used again niid again in the production of any other page
<)f te;:t, while the wood-block can only produce thf one page wliich
•Types
cast in
ciay
it contains. Moreover, only one hand could labour on the xylo-
graphic block ; but many hands could be employed in the mould-
ing and casting of types, however rude they might be. ■ Bernard
states that the artist who produced for him the few sand-cast types
shown in his work assured him that a workman could easily pro-
duce a thousand such leticse a Oay. He also states that, though
each letter required squaring after casting, there was no need to
touch up the faces.
There remains yet another suggestion as to the method
in which the types of the rude school may have been
produced. This may be described as a system of what
the founders of sixty years ago called polytype, which is a
cast or facsimile copy of an engraved block, matter in
type, &c.
Lambinet,' who is responsible for the suggestion, based upon a new
translation of Trithemius's narrative, explains that this process
really means an early adoption of stereotype. He thinks that the
first printers may have discovered a way of moulding a page of some
work — an Abecedarium — in cooling metal, so- as to get a matrix-
plate impression of the whole page. Upon this matrix they would
pour a liquid metal, and by the aid of a roller or cylinder press the
fused matter evenly, so as to make it penetrate into all the hollows
and corners of the letters. This tablet of tin or lead, being easily
lifted and detached from the matrix, would then appear as a surface
of metal in which the letters of the alphabet stood out reversed and
in relief These letters could easily be detached and rendered mobile
by a knife or other sharp instrument, and the operation could he
repeated a hundred times a day. The metal faces so produced would
be fixed on wooden shanks, type high, and the fount would then
be complete. Lambinet's hypothesis was endorsed by Firmin-
Didot, the renowned type-founder and printer of Lambinet's day.
But it is impossible to suppose that the Mainz p.salter of 1457, which
these writers point to as a specimen of this mode of execulioii, is
tho impression, not of type at all, but of a collection of "casts"
mounted on wood.
Whatever value there may be in the above theories with
regard to the movable types of the first printer, certain it
is that the shape and manufacture of the types used
as early as c, 1470 do not seem to have difi'ered materially
from those of the present types.
This is evident (1) from the shape of the old types which were
discovered in 1878 in the bed of the river Saone, near Lyons,
opposite the site of one of the 15th-century printing houses of that
city, and which there is reason to believe belonged once to one of
those presses, and were used by the early printers of Lyons ; (2)
from a page in Joh. Nider's Lepra Moralis, printed by Conrad
Homburch at Cologne in 1476, which shows the accidental impres-
sion of a type, pulled up from its place in the course of printing
by the ink-ball, and laid at length tipon the face of the forme, thus
leaving its exact profile indented upon the page ; (3) from an
entirely similar page (fol. 4'>) in Liber dc Laudibus ac Fcstis Gloriosm
Virginis, Cologne, c. 1463- From the small circle appearing in. the
two last-mentioned types, it is presumed that the letters were pierced
laterally by a circular hole, which did not penetrate the whole
thickness of the letter, and served, like tiie nick of modern types,
to enable the compositor to tell by touch which way to set the letter
in his stick. The fact that in these two cases the letter was pulled
up from the forme seems to show that the line could not have been
threaded.
Vino. Fineschi, Nolizie Storiche sopra la Siampcrin di BipoK
(Florence, 17S1, p. 49). gives an extract from the cost-book of the
Ripoli press, about 14S0, by which it appears that steel, brass,
copper, tin, lead, and iron wire were all used in the manufacture of
types at that period-*
The history and nomenclature of the earliest types are
practically a continuation of the history and nomenclature
of the characters figured in the earliest block-books, wood-
engravings, and MSS. For instance, Gothic type was first
seen about the year 1445 ; but it should not be forgotten
that the Gothic \vriting, of which that type was an imita-
tion, was already known and used about the second half
of the 12th century. Again, the pure Roman type, which
appeared about 1464, is nothing but an imitation of what
in paleography is called the Caroline minuscule, a hand-
writing which was already fully developed towards the end
of the 8th century. Consequently, details as to the history
and development of the various types properly belong to
the study of PAL-€00R.\rHY (7.!'.).
2 Origini dt f'/mprinienV, Paris, ISIO, 2 vols. 8vo, i. 07. ,
a On the above theoriea and types censult T. B. ReeJ, 0\-J English Leller
Foundries, pp. 3-26.
Poly,
tvna.
Shape of
earliest
type.
History
of the
earliest
types.
694
TYPOGRAPHY
[historicau
The broad outlines of tKe history of the earliest types
are as follows : —
Oothic. Gothic type, of the angiilar or pointed kind, was first used by the
Haarlem printer of the Speculum, DoncUus, ic. (see specimen No. 1 ,
taken from the British Jluseum copy of the Speculum Hmnanm
Salvalionis, mixed Latin edition], presumably c. 1445. An entirely
similar but-larger type (No. 2, taken from the British Museum copy
of Ludovicus [Pontanus] de Roma, Singularia) was used, presumably
by the same printer, c. 1465-1470. Gothic type appeared in
Germany as a church type in 1454, in the 31-line indulgence, pre-
sumably printed byjohan Gutenberg at Mainz (No. 3, from the
Gbttingen copy), and in the 30-line indulgence (No. 4, taken from
the British Museum copy), printed by Peter Schoeffer at Mainz.
Type No. 3 was also used about the same time for the 36-line Bible
and type No. 4 for the 42-linc Bible. Two much larger Gothic
types appeared in the psalter of 1457, published by Fust and
Schoeffer (see Bernard, Origine, pi. Vii ). In Italy Gothic type
appears in 1468 (No. 5, taken from the British Museum copy of
Cicero, De Oratore published at Rome by Ulr. Hahn, 15th December
1468, in small Roman type, with imprint in Gothic), but in a more
rounded form ; it is practically the ordinary Italian writing influ-
enced by the Gothic. In.Franoe Gothic began to be used in 1473 ;
in England it appears first in Caxton's type about the year 1480.'
It was employed extensively in a great many of the earliest presses
all over Europe, and continued to be used largely at aU times,
especially for Bibles, law books, royal proclamations, &c , and even
to this day it is the national character of Germany It is now
usually called letlrr de formt, black lelUr or English in English-
speaking countries, leUre fiamand in Holland, and fractur in
Germany.
Bastsrd Bastard Italian or bastard Roman was introduced in 1454 at
Italian -Mainz in the 31 line (No. 6) and 30-line (No. 7) indulgence. It is
or also called UWre de somtm^ some think from the Sumiaa of Thomas
Roman- Aquinas, printed in the type of the Bible of 1462 by Fust and
Schoeffer. Varieties of this kind of type were, like the Gothic,
much used by the earliest printers, 05, for instauce, the printer of
the 1460 Catholicon, i.e., by MenteHn of Strasbure, c. 1460, and
by Ulrich Zell at Cologne, c. 1466, &c In England it appeared in
the first three books printed (1478, 1479) at Oxford (No. 8, taken
from the British Museum copy of Jerome's ExposUio in Sitribolum
Apostolorum, wrongly dated 1468 for 1478).
Roman. Roman type, the Caroline minuscule of palaeography, was first
used in Germany about 1464, at Strasburg, by the printer whose
fount of type is known by a peculiarly shaped R, and who on that
account is usually called "the R printer" (No. 9,- taken from the
. British Museurf copy of Durandus, Raiimale, of which the Basel
library possesses a copy which was bought in 1464).' In Italy it
appears in 1465 at Subiaco (see Bernard, pi. xii. , No. 19), at Rome
in 1467 [op. cit., pi. xii.. No. 20), but in all its purity at Venicc.in
1469, used by Johannes of Spires (op. cit.. pi. xii., No. 23)j arid at
Paris in 1470 (op. cit., pi. xiii., No. 25). In England,it was not
used before 1518, when Richard Pynson printed^. Pace's Oralio in
Pace Kujxrriina (see facsimile in Reed'.5 Type Foundries, p. 92).
Burgun- Burgundian type, or gros batarde or sccret"-n/, was first used about
dian. 1470-72 by Colard Mansion at Bruges ^No. 10, taken from, the
British Museum copy of La Controversie de A'oblcssc, c. 1471-72).
With a somewhat similar type (No. 11, taken from the British
Museum copy of the Eccuyell) William Caxton is presumed to have
printed, likewise at Bruges, a set of five books, of which the ReeuyeU
of the History of Troye, a translation of a work by Raoul le Fevre,
is the best known and was probably printed c. 1471.' To this same
class belong the first tj-pe (No. 12, from the British Museum copy
of'the Dicks) used in England by William Caxton for the printing
of Dicles and Sayings of tM Philosopliers (18th November 1477),
and that used by the printer of St Albans (No. 13, taken from the
Cambridge university library copy of Aug. Dactus, Elegancie). It
3t$ ttmna mpTo
Ko I —SpecvXxim type, c 1445 (7) No. 2 —Pontanus type. c. 1470(7).
iftteamr
Sptoi; ci? rtc ^ucte ^^^
bPcjccefltbjcriniib;
Kos. 3 and 6.— Mainz 31-liDe
tndalgence, 1454.
Jftreatur (4)
cxcc/T'l'? criminib)
Vos. 4 and 7.— Mftinz 30-line
indulgence, 1454.
1 See Blades, Life of Caxton, pi. xvii.
• See Julc9 Philippe, L' Jmprimerie a Paris, p. 219.
» Ct Blades, Life of Caxton.
ttlibrl.O mSC^Ci<it^
No. 5.— Cicero, tk Oratore. 1463. No \Q. ••f^ontrnversu' de Wobifisse, c 1471-7?=
fill's eft qui
meftiiig fe ^if
bat aliFectiim
No 8. -Jerome's Ezpositic 0468), I47a
KemirimuscJc
clinibD.Nucd
antonomafice
No. 9. — Purandua, c 1464
;^«Hcmnoi) anb2 <fSd^ font (t
No 1 1 —Recuydl 0/ Of Hist oj Tr^yt.
C. 1471
No 12 .
■Dictes ind Sayin
1477
was an imitation of the manuscript hand J^<,,i. <_(?,u./i f.f^t:^..
of the English and Burgundian scribes "'™f*'»^""<'H>*'>'8'
of the 15th century, and, after having CO ^toi rtsfllBtHlBrtlOtt
figured for a long time in several of the jmt O.P'^ " •
early London and provincial presses, was I^O WOfltUKtLe }38J)u f
about 1534 entirely su|>erseded by the No 13 —Aug. Dactus. Ete
English black letter To this class of !^""«- 1-"^-
type belong also the later lettre de civiliu (c. 1570), the script (letlrs
couUe, lettre de fiiuj.^ice, Dutch geschreven schrift), set court, hose ^ecre'
tary, and running secretary types.
On the types before 1500, consult also the facsimiles in Holtrop's ^fon■ Typ.
dcs Pays-Bus, The Hague, 186S ; R. C. Hawkins, First Books and Printers 0/ Ihf
Fifteenih Century, New York, 18S4 ; William Blades, The Life oJ CajUon, Loniion,
1S61-63 ; Bernard, Origiiie de V Imprinterie, Paris, 1853, vol. i., plates iii.-xiii. ;
Pticidus Braun, Sotitia d^ Libris ab Arfis Typogr ]7iventione vsqne ad Annum
11,79 tm-pressis, Augsburg, 1788j H. Noel Humphreys, Hist, of the Art of Print-
ing, fol., London. 1867. The types after 150O can best be learned from the
catalogues of tj-pe-founders, among which those of Messrs Enschede of Haarlem
occupy n fon'niost place. Of others we may mention — Indice dei Caratteri nella
Slampa Vo^ticnua, 4to, Rome, IG28 : Itpreuves des Caractcres QTti se trouient chez
Claude Lameste, 4to. Paris, 1742; tpre^tves des Car. de la fondcrie de Claude
Mozet, 8vo, Nantes, 1754 ; Les Car. de 1' Imprimerie par Foumier le Jeuuje, 8vo.
Paris, 1704 • Proefvan Leiteren, Bloemen, &c., ran Ptoos van Amstet, 8vo, Amster-
dam, 1767 ; ^preuve de Car. de Jacques Franrois Kosart, 8vo, Brussels, 1771 ;
Schriften . bey J. H Prentzler, 4to, Frankfort-on-Main, 1774 ; £preuves dcs
Car. de la Fond, de J. L. Joannis, 8vo, Paris, 1776 : Fpreuves des Car. de la Fovd.
dej L de Bonbers, Svo, BTUssc]s,}'n7 ; Procve van Letterenuelki gegoolen warden
door J de Groat, Svo, The Hague. 1787 ; Pantographie, by Edmund Fry. Svo.
LondoD. 1790 . and Manuale Typographico, by 0 Bodoni, 4to, Fanna. 1818
SvhsiC[uenl to 1500.
Though the Cologne Chronkle of 1499 denies to Mainz Priotera
the honour of the invention of the art of printing, it was "-f"
right in asserting that, after it had been brought there '^
from Holland, it became much more masterly and exact,
and more and more artistic. During the first half century
of printing a good many printers distinguished themselves
by the beauty, excellence, and literary value of their pro-
ductions. We may mention as such : — Johan Fust and
Peter Schoeffer at Main* ; Johan Mentelin and Heinricb
Eggestein at Strasburg , Ulrich Zell at Cologne , Sweyn-
heyra and Pannarts at Subiaco and at Rome ; Nicolas
Jenson at Venice ; Anton Koberger at Nuremberg; Kete-
iaer and De Leempt at Utrecht , Johan Veldenor at
Lonvain, Utrecht, and Kuilenburg; Gerard Leeu at Gouda;
Johan of Westphalia at Louvain ; and William Caxton
{q.v.) at Westminster.
Very soon the demand for books increased, and with it
came a reduction in their prices. This caused a decline
in the execution of printing, which begins to be appreciable
about 1480 in some localities, and may be said to have
become general towards the end of the 15th century. At
all times, however, we find some printers raise their art to
a great height by the beauty of their types and the literary
excellence of their productions. Among the later printers
we may mention the Aldi of Venice (1490 to 159''; see
BIST0RICAL.1
TYPOGRAPHY
€9f
MAMJi'ius, vol. XV. p. SI'S) j G. B. Bodoni of Panna (176S-
1813 ; see voL iii. p. 849) ; John Amerbach at Ba^el (U92-
1516) ; John Froben at Basel (1496-1527 ; see vol. is. p.
791); John Baskerville at Birmingham (1750-1775; see
■voL iii p. 421); the house of Wechel, first at Paris (c.
1530-1572), afterwards at Frankfort; Christopher Plantin
Bt Antwerp (1554-1589), but continued long after under
the firm OMcina Plantiniana (see voL six. p. 176); the
Elzevirs, first at Leyden, afterwards at Amsterdam (1580-
1680; see vol. viii. p. 156); Antoine Verard at Paris
(1485-1513) ; JosseBade at Paris(14951535 ; see Badius,
vol. iii. p. 228); and the Estiennes at Paris (1502-1598;
see Stephens, voL xxiL p. 534).
History of Modem Types.
lUlic The Italic type ' is said to be an imitation of tlie handwriting of
Petrarch, and was introduced by Aldas Manatias of Venice for
the purpose of printing his projected small editions of the classics.
The cutting of it was entrusted to Francesco da Bologna, an artist
who is presumed to be identical with the painter Francesco Francia
or Eaibolini. The fount is a " lower case " only, the capitals being
Eoman in form. It contains a large number of tied letters, to
imitate handwriting, but is quite free &om. contractions and liga.
tores. It was first used in the Firgil of 1500. Aldus produced
six different sizes between 1501 and 1558. It was counterfeited
almost immediately in Italy, at Lyons, and elsewhere. Originally
it was called Venetian or Aldine, but subsequently Italic type,
except in Germany and Holland, where it is called "cursive."
The Italians also adopted the Latin name " charactercs cnisivi sen
cancellariL" In England it was first used by VTynkyn de Worde
in Wakefield's Oraiio in 1524. The character was at first intended
and used for the entire test of classical works. When it became
more general, it was employed to distinguish portions of a book not
properly belonging to the wtjrk, such as introductions, prefaces,
indexes, notes, the text itself being in Roman. Later it was used
in the text for quotations, and finally served the double part of
emphasiring certain words in some works, and in others, chiefly
translations of the Bible, of marking words not rightly forming a
fiart of the text.
Oicelt Greek type {minuscules) first ocotus in Ciceri<, De OJiciis printed
at Mainz in 1 465 by Fust and Schoeffer. The fount used is rude
and imperfect, many of the letters being ordinary Latin. In the
same year Sweynheym and Pannarts used a good Greek lettei for
some of the quotations in their edition of Laclantius (see, for in'-
Btance, leaves 11a, 19a, 36a, 139, 140) ; but the supply was evidently
short at first, as some of the larger quotations in the first part
of the book were left blank to be filled in by hand. The first
book wholly printed in Greek minuscules was the Grammar of
Lascaris, by Paravisinus, at MUan in 1476, in types stated to have
been cot and cast by Demetrius of Crete. The fount contains
breathings, accents, and some ligatures. The headings to the
chapters are whoUy in capitals. The AnthoJogia Grmca of Las-
saris was printed at Florence in 1494 wholly in Greek capitals
{IxUtra majuscuisi), and it is stated in the preface that they were
designed after the genuine models of antiquity to be found in the
inscriptions on medals, marbles, kc. But as late as 1493 Greek
type was not common, for in that year the Venice printer Symon
Bevilaqua issued TibuJlus, Calullits, and Propertius with blanks
left in the commentary for the Greek quotations. In England
Greek letters appeared for the first time in 1519 in W. de Worde's
edition of Whiteuton's Grammatical where a few words are in-
troduced cut in wood. Cast types were used at Cambridge in
Galen's De Temperamentis, translated by Linacre, and printed
by Sibereh in 1521, who styles himself the first Greek printer
in England ; but the quotations in the Galen are very sparse,
and Sibereh is not known to have printed any entire book in
Greek. The first printer who possessed Greek types in any quantity
was Reginald Wolfe, who held a royal patent as printer in Greek,
Latin, and He'orew", and printed in 1543 two Hmnilics of Chryso-
stom, edited by Sir John Cheke, the first Greek lecturer at Cam-
bridge. In Edinburgh, in 1563, and as late as 1579, the. space
for Greek words was left blank in printing, to be filled in by hand.
In 1632 Cambridge appliedto Oxford for the loan of a Greek fount
to print a Greek Testament, and the same university made an
offer in 1700 for the purchase of a fount of the king's Greek at
Paris, but withdrew on the French Academy insisting as a con-
dition that every work printed should bear the imprint "charac-
teribus Gifficis e typographeo regio ParisiensL " It should not be
forgotten that the large number of ligatures in the Greek of that
4ay made the production of a fount a serious business, "rhe
Onord Augnstin Greek comprised no fewer than 354 matrices, the
^ These paragraphs on the varions types are for the most part taken from
V B. Heed's Hisbrry of the Old Enolisii Letter Foundries, London, 18S7, p. 50 sg.
great primer 456, and even one fount showed 776 different sorts-.
The Dutch founders effected a gradual reduction of the Greet
typographical ligatures. Early in the 19th century a new fashion
of Greek, for which Person was sponsor and furnished the drawings,
was introduced, and has remained the prevailing form to this day.
The first Hebrew tj-pes are generally supposed tc have appearei] He'areV'
in 1475 in Petrus Niger's Tractatus contra Ferfidos Judieos (leaf 10\
printed by Conrad Fyner at Esslingen. De Rossi states that a
Hebrew work in four folio volumes entitled Arba Turim of Rabbi
Jacob ben Asher, was printed in 1475 at Pieve di Sacco in Austrian
Italy, while in the same year, a few months earlier, Salomon Jarchi's
Comment, on the PerUalcueh appeared at Keggio in Italy, printed
in the Rabbinical character. Numerous other Hebrew works
followed before 1488, in which year the first entire Hebrew Bible
was printed, with points, at Soncino, by a family of German Jews.
The first English book in which any quantity of Hebrew type was
used was Dr Rhys's Cambro-Brytannicx Cymrmcssve Liiigua Inslitu-
tiorus, printed by Thomas Orwin in 1592, though already in 1524
Greek characters, but cut in wood, were used by W. de Worde in
Wakefield's Orotic. But tlie Hebrew fount made use of in Walton's
PolygloU in 1657 was probably the first important foimt cut and
cast in England, though there were as yet no matrices there for
Rabbinical Hebrew In the beginning of the ISth century Amster-
dam was the centre of the best Hebrew printing in Europe.
The first book printed in Arabic types is said to be a Diumalt Aish>'>
Greecorum Arabum, printed at Fano in Italy in 1514.- Two years
later P. P. Porrus's PolygloU Psalter, comprising the Arabic version,
was printed at Genoa ; and two years later a Koran in Arabic is saii
to have been printed at Venice. In 1505 an Arabic Vocabulary ai
Granada had the words printed in Gothic letters with the Arabic
points placed over them ; and in other presses where there were
no Arabic types the language was expressed in Hebrew letters or
cut in wood. De Guignes and others mention a fount of Arabic
used by Gromors in Paris in 1539-40 to print Postel's Gramnuir.
In England some Arabic words were introduced in Wakefield's Oro/fc
of 1524, but apparently cut in wood. In ilinsheu's Duclor in
Linguas, 1617, the Arabic words are printed in Italic characters.
Laud's gift of Oriental MSS. to Oxford in 1635, and the appoint-
ment of an Arabic lecturer, were the first real incentives to the
cultivation of the language by English scholars. Previous to this
it is stated that the Raphelengius Arabic press at Leyden had been
purchased by the English Orientalist, William Bedwe'J ; but, if
it was brought to England, it does not appear to have been im.
mediately made use of. TTie Arabic woms in Thomas Grcave's
Oraiio de Lingua Arabicsc Utilitaie, printed at Oxford in 1639,
were written in by hand.
Syriac type, probably cut in wood, first appeared in Postel's Syriai.
Zinguarum XII. Alphabcta, printed in Paris in 1538 ;.bnt the
characters are so rude in form and execution as to be scarcely legible.
In 1555, however, Postel assisted in cutting the pimches for the
Syriac Peshito New Testament, printed at Vienna in 4to, the first
portion of the Scriptures, and apparently the first book, printed ir
that language. In 1569-72 Plantin at Antwerp included the Syria,-
New Testament in his Polyglott, and reissued it in a separate form in
1574. In England Syriac was usually expressed in the earlier works
in Hebrew characters. But in 1652, when the prospectus and pre-
liminary specimen of Walton's PolygloU were issued, we find Syriao
type in use. ^
Of the Armenian charactei the press of the Vatican possessed a Armea- ■:
good fount in 1591, when Angelo Roccha showed a specimen in iatt-
his Bibiiotheca Apostolica Vaticana, A psalter is said to have been
printed at Rome in 1565, and Eowe Stores mentions doubtfully a
liturgy printed at Cracow in 1549. Armenian printing was practised
in Paris in 1633 ; but the Armenian bishops, on applying to France
for assistance in printing an Armenian Bible in 1662, were refused,
and went to Rome, where, as early as 1636, the press of the Propa-
ganda had published a specimen of its Armenian matrices. The
patriarch, after fifteen months' residence in Rome, removed to
Amsterdam, where he established an Armenian press, and printed
the Bible in 1666, which was followed in 1668 by a separate edition
of the New Testament. In 1669 the press was set up at Marseilles,
where it continued foi a time, and was ultimately removed to Con-
stantinople. In England the first Armenian type was that presented
by Dr Fe'd to Oxford in 1667. The alphabet given in the pro-
legomena of Walton's PolygloU was cut in wood.
Of Ethiopic the earliest type appeared in Potken's Psalter and Etiuopib
Song of Solomon, printed at Rome in 1513.. The work was reprinted
at Cologne in 1518 in Potken's PolygloU Psalter. In 1548 t ne New
Testament was printed at Rome by some Abyssinian priests. IBe
press of the Propaganda issued a specimen of its fount in 1631, and
agair in Kircher's Prodromus Coptus in 1636. Erpenius at Leyden
had an Ethiopic fount, which in 1626 was acquired by the EIze\-irs.
Usher attempted to procure the4bunt for England ; but, his attempt
failing, pvmches were cut and matrices prepared by the London
founders for the London PolygloU, which showed' the Psilms,
Canticles, and New Testament in the Ethiopic version.
* See Panzer. >ii 2"
696
TYPOGRAPHY
[histobicai.
Coptic Of Coptic the press of the Propaganda possessed a fount, and a
specimen was issued in 1636, in wliich year also Kircher's ProdTomus
Coptus appeared from the same press. In England David Wilkins's
edition of the New Testament was printed in 1716 from Coptic
types cast \nth matrices which Dr Fell had presented to Oxford in
1667. The alphabets shown in the introduction and prolegomena
to the London Polyglotl of 1655 and 1657 were cut in wood.
.Samari- Of Samaritan the press of the Propaganda had a fount in J636,
tan. and the Paris Pobjglott, completed in 1645, contained the entire
Pentateuch in. type the punches and matrices of which had been
specially prepared under Le Jay's direction. The fount used for
the London Polyglotl in 1657 is admitted to have been an English
production, and was probably cut under the supervision of Usher.
Slavonic With Slavonic type a psalter was printed at Cracow as early as
1491, and reprinted in Montenegro in 1195. The only Slavonic
fount in England was that given by Dr Fell to O.^ford, and this.
Mores states, was replaced in 1695 by a fount of the more modern
Russian character, purchased probably at Amsterdam. The Oralio
OominvM of 1700 gives a specimen of this fount, but renders the
Bassian. Hieron3Tuian version in copper-plate. Modern Slavonic, better
known as Russian, is said to have appeared fii-st in portions of the
Old Testament printed at Prague in 1517-19. Ten years later there
was Russian type in Venice. A Russian press was established at
Stockholm in 1625, and in 1596 there were matrices in Amsterdam,
from which came the types used in Ludolph's Gramniatica Kussica,
printed at O.itford in that year, and whence also, it is said, the tj-pes
were procured which furnished the first St Petersburg press, estab-
lished in 1711 ty Peter the Great Mores notes that in 177S there
was no Russian type in England, but that Cottrell was at that time
engaged in preparing a fount. It does not appear that this project
was carried out, and the earliest Russian in England was cut by
Dr Fry from alphabets in the Vocabutaria, collected and published
for the empress of Russia in 17SC-S9. This fount appeared in the
Pantogrdpkia in 1799.
Etruscan. A fount of the Etruscan character cut by William Caslon about
1733 for Swinton of Oxford was apparently the first produced.
Fournier in 1766 showed an alphabet engraveil in metal or wood.
In 1771 the Propaganda published a s|>ecimen of their fount, and
Bodoni of Parma in 1S06 e.'ihibited a third in his Oratio Dominica.
Runic. Runic types were first used at Stockholm in a Runic and Swedish
Atpkuiclariam, printed in 1611. The fount, which was cast at
the expense of the king, was afterwards acquired by the univer.
sity. About the same time Runic type was used at Upsala and
at Copenhagen. Voskens. of Amsterdam h.ad matrices about the
end of that century, and it was from Holland that Francis Junius
is supposed to have procured the matrices which in 1677 he pre-
sentcd to Oxford. This fount appears in the Oratio Dominica of
1700, and in Hickes's Thesaurus, 1703-5, and it remained the only
one in England.
Sothic. Matrfces of Gothic type were presented to Oxford by Francis
Junius in 1677, and a fount of them was used for the Oratio Dominica
of 1700 and in Hickes's Thesaurus. A different fount was used for
Chamberlayne's Oralio Dominica, printed at Amsterdam in 1715.
Caslon cut a fount which appeared in his first specimen in 1734.
This and the Oxford fount were the on^y two in England in 1820.
Scandi- Founts of Icelandic, Swedish, and Danish were included in
navian. Junius's gift to Oxford in 1677, and were, prhaps, specially pre-
pared in Holland. The first-named is shown in the Oratio Dcrminica
of 1700 and in Hickes's Thesaurus. Printing had been practised
in Iceland since 1531, when a Breviary was printed at Hoolum, in
types rudely cut, it is alleged, in wood. In 1574, however, metal
types were provided, and several works produced. After a period
of decline, printing was re\nved in 1773, and in 1810 Sir GeOrge
Jl'Kenzie reported that the Hoolura press possessed eight founts of
type, of which two were Roman, and the remainder of the common
Icelandic character, which, like the Danish and Swedish, bears a
close resemblance to the German.
Anglo- For the Anglo-Saxon language the first type was cut by John
Saxon. Day in 1567, under the direction of Archbishop Parker, and appeared
in iElfric's Paschal Homily in that year and in the jSlfrcdi Res
C'M^ffi of Asser Menevcnsis in 1574. Anglo-Saxon tj-])e was used
by Browne in 1617, in .^^nsheu's Ductor in Linguas ; and HaWland,
who printed the second edition of that work in 1626, had in 1623
made use of the character in Lisle's edition of .^Ifric's ITomily.
IrUb. The first fount of Irish character was that presented by Queen
'Oli^abcth to O'Kcarney in 1571, and used to print the Catechism
which appeared in that year in Dublin, from the press of Franckton.
But the fount is only .partially Irish, many of the fetters being
Dulinary Ronwn or Italic. It was used in several works during the
early years of the 17th century, and as late as 1652 in Godfrey
D.iniel's Christian Doctrine, printed in Dublin. The Irish semin-
aries .abroad were belter supplied with Irish type. A new type
»n5 cut by Mflnun, and appeared in 16S1 in Boyle's New Testament,
, )Tintcd by ROflStt Everingbam.
■Mssic. The earliest specimen of music type occurs in Higden's Poly-
chronicon, juinted by De Worde at Westminster in 1495. ^ The
S'luait notes apjwar to have been formed of ordinary quadrats, and
the staff-lines of metal rules imperfectly joined. In Caston*S'edi-
tion of the same work in 14S2 the space had been left to be filled
up by hand. The plain chant in the Mainz psalter of 1490, printed
in .two colours, was probably cut in wood. Hans Froschauer of
Augsburg printed music from wooden blocks in 14 73, and the notes
in Burtius's Opusculum Miisiccs, printed at Bologna in 1487, appear
to have been produced in the same manner ; while at Lyons the
missal printed by Matthi.as Hus in 1485 had the staff only printed,
the notes being intended to be filled in by hand. About 1500 &
musical press was established at Venice by Ottavio Petrucci, at
which were produced a series of mass-books \vith lozenge-shaped
notes, each being cast complete with a staff-line." In 1513 he re-
moved to Fossombroue, and obtained a patent from Leo X. for his
invention of types for the sole printing of figurative song {can/us
ffjuratus). Before 1550 several European presses followed Petrucci's
example, and music type was used, among other places, at Augs-
burg in 1506 and 1511, Parma in 1526, Lyons in 1532, and Nurem-
berg in 1549. In 1525 Pierre Hautin cut punches of ]ozenge-sha[>ed
music at Paris. Round notes were used at Avignon in 1532. In
England, after its first use, music-printing did not become general
till 1550, when Grafton printed Marbecke's Book of Common Prayer,
*' noted" in movable tj'pc, the four staff- lines being printed in
red and the notes iu black. There are only four different sorts of
notes used, — three square and one lozenge. About 1660 the de-
tached notes hitherto employed began to give place to the '*neT^
tyed note," by which the heads of sets of quavers could be joined.
But at the close of the 17th century music-printing from tJ^le be-
came less common, on account of the introduction of stamping and
engraving plates for the purpose.
Printing for the blind (compare vol. iH. p. 826) was first intro- Prialin'
duced in 17S4 by Valentin Haiiy, the founder of the asylum forforths
blind children in Paris. He made use of a large script character, blind.
from which impressions were taken on a prepared paper, the im-
pressions being so deeply sunk as to leave their marks in strong
relief and legible to the touch. liaiiy's pupils not only read in this
way, but executed their own ty^iography, and in 1786 printed an
account of thei-* institution and labours as a specimen of their press.
The fiist school for the blind in England was opened in Liverpool
in 1791, but printing in raised characters was not successfully ac-
complished till 1S27, when Gall of the Edinburgh asylum printed
the Gospel of St John fiom angular tyjies. Alston, the treasurer of
the Glasgow asylum, introduced the ordinary Roman capitals in
relief, and this system was subsequently improved upon by the
addition of the lower-case letters by Dr Fry, the type-founder,
whose specimen gained the prize of the Edinburgh Society of Arts
in 1837. Several rival systems have competed in England for
adoption, of which the most important are those of Lucas, Frere,
Moon, Braille, Carton, and Alston ; the last-named, as perfected
by Dr Fry, seems likely to become the' recognized method of print-
ing for the blind in all European countries.
As regards initials in the earliest printed books, see above, p. 686. Initial*
The trouble and cost involved in the use of the initial director early
suggested the use of wood -cut initials, and Erhard Batdolt of Venice,
about 1475, is generally supposed to have been the first printer to
introduce the liters fiorentes, called also Icttres toumeures, or typi
lomalissimi, which eventually superseded the hand-painted inirials.
Caxton introduced one or two kinds in 1484. Among the earliest
to be used are the so-called Lombardic initials or capitals. The
more elaborate initials, such as those used in the Mainz indulgences
and psalter, by Aldus 'at Venice, by Johann Schoeffer at Mainz in
1518, by Tory and the Estiennes at Paris, by Froben at Basel, and
by the other great printers of their day, were known as lettres grises.
Besides these, the ordinary "two-line letters" or large plain capitals
came into use ; and these were generally cast, whilst the ornamental
letters were for the most part engraved on wood or metal.
Type ornaments and flowers began, like the initials, jvith the Oma-
illuminators, and were afterwards cut on wood or metal. The first ments
printed ornament or vignette is supposed to be the scutum or arms and
of Fust and Schoeffer in their edition of the Bible of 1462. There flower*
is no vignette in the Subiaco Zaclantius of 1465 (as stated by Mr
Reed, Letter Foundries, p. 82). In HoUrop's Monum. Typogr. da
Pa'is-Bas may be seen borders used by some of the earliest printers
of Holland (1475-1490) which would not look bad even in the present
time. Caxton in 1490 used ornamental pieces to form the border
for \d% Fifteen O's. At the same time the Paris printers engraved
still more elaborate border pieces. At Venice entire framea were
engraved in one piece, while Aldus as early as 1495 nsed tasteful
head-pieces cut in artistic harmony with his leltres grises. Early
in the 16th century we observe detached ornaments and flourishes
which have evidently been cast from a matrix.
titemJurf.— Besides the works of Berjrau. Bernard, Blades. Hawkins, Hcseelj,
Hollrop, Noel Humrlireys, Koehler, Jules ThiUppc, T. B. Reed, Snllieby,
Weigel. Ac. already mentioned, consult also Bigmorc and Wjnnan, A BilAio*
ffra^of/'n'iMi?. London. ISSO; Geo. Wolfe. Panzer, j<n>uil:.s 7vr<^.. Nurem-
berg. 1793, &c. : Lud. Ham, Rtftrtoriun BMiog., Stuttgart, IS30-3S; Hollrop.
Cat. L}bToru\n i^c A'f* Imprtssonm in Bibi. Ii€^in Havana. The Hai;ue. 1S56;
M. F. A. G. Campl)cll. Ann. dt laTvpog. Nurtaffiaise ou Xl''Sie<-Ie. ThwUa^ue,
1874 : Rob. SiDker, A Col. q/ the Xy. Ccntiiry frinkd D'JOks in the Library qf
I
PRACriCAL.]
TYPOGRAPHY
697
Trinily CcUege, Cambridgi. Cambridge, 1876 ; W. Th. Lowndes, Bibtiographtr s
Uaxual ed by Henr. G. BoUn, Loudon, 1S53. ic. ; J. C. Brunei, ,Vuiiufi rfii
tibrairt, rins,lS«)(four earlier editions); Th. F. Dibdln, UMiolheca Sixncenann,
London 1?14, 4c, and his other works ; Ennen, Katalog tier Incunabiln in der
S)iuit-Sit>hi>U.d; 2H Kaln; SchoepBin, Vindtci/eT^pog., 17vO; Meerman, Origincs
Tyvoo. The Hague, ITW ; Dupoat, Hist, tie Clmpr., Paris, 1869 ; Firinin-Didot,
JiiM. de la Typjg.y Pads, 1SS2 ; E. Duverger, //u>f. de rinvention de llmpr.,
Paris 1840 ; P. Lambinet, Origine rfe t'lmpr., Paris, ISIO : Ch. Ruelens, La
I
Tke Hague, 1843 ; Jos. Ames, Tupogr. AiUigniUa (augmented by W. Herbert),
London, 1785-90 : T. C. Hansard, Typogmpliia, Loudon, 1S25 ; Thomas, Hisl.
<J Printino i1 Arwrica, Albany, 1S74; Th. L. Devinne, n« Im. ij Print.,
London, 1S77; W. Skeen, Early Typography, Colombo, 1S72 ; Sam. Palmer, A
Gatrat Hisl. o/ fri«(., London, 1732 ; W. Young Ottley, tngitiry amaming
tkt Inv. of Print., London, 1863 ; Henry Bradshaw, A Classijiid Indiz of the
tStk Cintury Bools in tfie ColUaion of the lott M. J. de Msycr, London, 1870;
Id., Hist, of the Founts of Type and h^oodcut Devices used by Printers in Holland
in the fifieenlh Century. London, 1S71 ; Id., The Printer of the Huloria S.
Albani, Cambridge, ISdS; A. Von der Linde, Haarlem Legend, London, 1870;
Id., Gutenberg, Stuttgart, 1S81 ; Id., Gesch. der Erfind. dtr Bnehdruckerkunst,
Berlin, ISS6: Schaab, Gcsch. der Erfind. der Buchdruckert., Mamj, 1330; K.
■ Falkenstein, Gesch. der Buehdruckerk., Leipsic, 1856 ; Lorck, Handb. der Gesch'.
der Buchdruckerk., Leipsic, 1832 ; K. Fauloiann, lllustr. CescA. der BucWnict-
erk., Vienna, 1832 ; M. Denis, Witns Btichdnickergesch. bis JS60, Vienna, 1782;
C R-Hildeburn, A Centnry of Printing—The Issues of the Press inPennsylvania,
' i65i-i75"i, Philadelphia, 1887 ; and J. Garcia Icazbalceta, Bibliog. Mezieana del
'Siglo XVI., Mexico, 1837. The titles of other works on the invention, progress,
and process of printing, &c., may be learned from the lists of books on such
subjects in the works already quoted. f J. H. H.)
Paet II. — Peactical.
Degiil, Printing, has been defined to be the act, art, or practice of iin-
tjoa, pressing letters, characters, or figures 'Dn paper, cloth, or other-
material, the definition being based on the etymology (Old fr.
empreindre, from Lat. imprimctc). Technically the same definition
might be applied to such arts as those of calico and oilcloth print-
ing, and even of moulding, embossing, coining, and stamping ;
but in point of fact these are never understood when the word
"printing" is employed. There is also printing without pressure,
such as pnotograpiuc printing. The use of a pigment or ink must
be regarded as an indispensable element. The application of the
term is therefore confined to the use of pressure and a pigment for
literary and pictorial purposes. As thus defined, printing includes
three entirely different processes — not inaptly called the polygraphia
Typo- arts — viz., chalcography or copperplate printing (compare Encrav-
graphy, ING, vol. viii. p. 439 sq.). Lithography (j.i'.) or chemical stone-
chaico- printing, and typography or letterpress printing. The last-named
graphy, is that to which the present article is confined,
and The difference between the three methods lies essentially in the
Gtho- nature or conformation of the surface that is inked, and which
graphy. afterwards gives a reproduction or image in reverse on the material
to be impressed. In copperplate printing the whole of a fiat sur-
face is inked, and a portion of the ink sinks into an incision or
trench, in which it still remains after the surface is cleansed.
When pressure is brought to bear, this ink is transferred to the
paper, giving an impression of a line. In litbogiaphic printing
the flat surface is protected excopt at certain places, where it is
slightly coated with tlie ink, which practically leaves the stone
quite level, but also marks a line when pressure is brought to bear.
In typography the printing surface is in relief. It alone receives
ink, the remainder being protected by its lower level. Any kind
of printing done from a relief surface belongs to letterpress print-
ing, such as a woodcut, a casting in metal, india-rubber, celluloid,
xylonite, &c. (or "stereotype"), or a deposition by electricity (or
"electrotype"). The typographic method requires a surface that
is more dilficult to form than either of the other two. In litho-
graphy the surface may be obtained by merely writing or drawing
on the stone ; in copperplate printing the line may be immediately
incised into or scratched on the plate ; but for letterpress printing
the surface between the lines in relief has to be cut away. Hence
the tediousness of wood-engraving, in which all the surface of the
block has to be removed e-xcept those parts that are to be printed
from and which form the black lines in the impression ; and the
conformation of a type surface is similar.
Typography, however, has many compensating advantages. Im-
pressions aie taken with much greater facility. The inking appli-
ance glides over the relief lines to be printed from, whereas it would
cling to the entire surface of the stone or the metal ; hence much
greater pressure would be required in these cases. The unprintable
part of the stone in lithography has to be damped, so as to repel
tlie ink ; the same portion has to be inked and then cleaned off in
copperplate printing ; but in letterpress printing the ink only that
has to be transferred to the paper needs to be applied to the type.
"When the design has been drawn on the stone or scratched into
the copper, the result does not admit of any further application
beyond that at first contemplated. But in letterpress printing the
surface may be of a composite character. It may be formed of
single pieces representing the several letters, and these, when once
formed, may be employed in endless combinations. Only by such
means are cheap newspapers and books possible. Before the in-
vention of typography (as in the East to the present day), the dif-
fercut pages of a book were printed from wooden blocks, out aflf c
the manner of a wood-engraving. Blocks of this kind are of no
use for printing after their first purpose has been fulfilled. They
must necessarily be made very slowly and with much labour la»
forming a page of a book, on the other hand, by the typographio
method there need (excluding necessary wear and tear) only be thef
cost of "composing" the types and of "distributing" theui iutct
their proper receptacles, from which they may be le.takeli man/
times to form other compositions.
Types : their ifaterial Characteristics.
Exclusive of such printing surfaces as wood-blocks and casts, the Book*'
letters, marks, and signs with which letterpress prinring is executed worit
are called types, a proportioned quantity of each of the letters of fount.'
the alphabet in any one body or face forming a fount. A book-
work fount contains single letters, diphthongs, ligatures (such as
ff, fl), accented letters, figures, fractions, points, reference marks,
dashes or metal rules (as ), leaders (as ), braces (, — ' — .),
and signs (as &, £). It also includes quadrats, — pieces of metal of
various widths, which do not print, but are used to compensate for
the shortness of occasional lines, as at the close of a paragraph —
and spaces, which separate words and letters. There arc thus about
226 separate characters in every ordinary English book-work foui.t.
The table used by type-founders to regulate the number of ea li 3iU ot
of the several sorts in a fount is called a bill of type. The sorts ai c type. '
supplied by English type-founders in certain definite proportion;,
depending upon the number of lower-case m's. A bill of 3000 nt's
usually contains the following : —
Lower-case.
Figures, kc.
Capitals.
SmaJl Cars.
m ..
3,000
, ... 4,500
A ...
700
A ... 450
a
9,000
; ... 800
B ...
450
B ... 270
b ..
2,000
: ... 600
C ...
500
c ... 350
c
4,000
. ... 3,000
D ...
550
D ... 350
d ..
5,000
- ... 1,000
E ...
750
E ... 450
e
14,000
? ... 300
F ...
450
F ... 300
f ..
3,000
! ... 200
G ...
450
O ... 2Z0
g -•
2,000
• ... 800
H ...
450
H ... 300
H ..
6,000
( ... 400
I
900
I ... 450
i
9,000
[ ... 200
J ..
300
J ... 2O0
j
500
• ... 250
K ..
300
K ...' 200
k .
800
t .. 100
L ..
550
L ... 300
1
5,000
J ... 100
M ..
650
M ... 300
n
8,000
§ ... 100
N ...
550
N ... 350
0
8,000
II ... 100
0 ..
550
0 ... 650
P
2,400
II ... 70
P ...
500
p ... 270
1
600
Q -
200
Q ... 120
r
7,000
1 ..' 700
R ...
500
R ... 330
s
8,000
2 ... 600
S ...
600
S ... 350
t ..
. 10,000
3 ... 600
T ...
800
T ... 420
u
4,500
i ..- 500
U ...
350
U .. 240
V
1,500
5 ... 600
V ...
350
V ... 200
w
2,500
6 ... 500
\y ...
550
w ... 270
X
500
7 ... 500
X ...
200
X ... 120
y
2,S0O
8 .. 500
Y ...
350
Y ... 200
z
300
9 . 500
Z ...
150
z ... 120
& ..
300
0 ... 700
JE ..
100
s: ... 60
ff .
400
£ ... 200
(E ...
100
(E ... 60
fi „
500
fl ..
300
e ... 200
i ...
150
SPACES.
ffl .
200
i ... 200
i^ ;.-.
150
Thick 20,000
ffi .
300
a ... 100
i ...
150
Jliddle 8,000
EB
200
e ... 100
Thin 8,000
«
100
5'
50
Hail' 3,000
500
Another 100
i; -
50
Em qds. 3.000
150
accents
i ■■
50
En qds. 6,000
inn
each
&, @, ^, lb, 50
s
50
, ' , ca. 20
'»«
S
50
100
each
1
50
^—' — . 25 ;
100
^r ... 30
i -
50
/ ' . 25 ;
Large quads, o
ne-tenth of fount. Italic,
one-t(
nth of Roman.
Such a fount would weigh about 750 lb if of pica size, 4S0 ft if
long primer, 400 lb if bourgeois, 330 lb brevier, 280 lb minion, 220 tt>
nonpareil. The numbers of the respective letters are based on the
requirements of the English language ;' other languages of coursa
require dilTerent proportions. In Latin and French, for instance,
q and u would be deficient, h in excess, and w needless. Th».
number of the respective letters mayjje, and sometimes is, appor»|
tioned by weight ; for example, in one of the " schemes " of founts;
1 There is a tradition in one of the oldest English foundries that tliis scala I
originated in a laborious calculation of the comparative number of ditVerent
letters used in setting up a lengthy debate in the House of Commons, it being
supposed then that the purest English was spoken there. The scale is, however,
frequently found defective in practice. It is a curious fact, for instance, that
the matter of Charles Dickens's works will empty the vowel boxes long before \
those of the consonants, and that Lord Macaulay's statelier style will run vrita j
like persistency on consonants.
XXIII. — 88
69S
TYPOGRAPHY
[PRACTICAI,.
^
K^.
«
\ /
r
•\
1.— Finished
type.
used by type-fouiKlers a fount of 123 Iti Romaii with, as its comple-
ment, 10 lb Italic, includes 8 oz. of E, M, C ; 9 oz. of T ; 8 lb of e ;
5 lb each of a, h, n, o, t ; and so on, down to 3 oz. of z. To estimate
the qnantity of type required for a p-ige, the number of square
. inches it contaitis is measured and divided by 4, the quotient being
the approximate weight of the matter in pounds. In small founts,
however, 50 per cent, is added, and in large ones 30 to 40 per cent.,
to allow for the letters generally left in the cases, not being required
in the job, and for sorts, &c. These figures, although useful, are
only approximative, the proportion of the several ingredients of
type-metal used by different founders for the various sizes of type
greatly varying the calculation,
t'arta of Each of the parts of a type has a technical name. In the an-
s typs. nexed diagram (fig. 1) of the capital letter II the darkest space a, a,
a, a, is called the/ace ; and only that part of the type touches the
paper in printing. The face is divided into tli^stoii, marked 1, which
comprises the whole outline of the type M ; the serifs, ov the hori-
zontal lines marked 2, which cohiplete the outline i
of the letter ; the beard, consisting of the bevel or
slopiwgfpaii marked b, b, and the shoulder or flat por-
tion below b. The shank is the entire body of the
letter, d, the front part (that shown) being known
ar, the belly and the corresponding part behind as
the back. The spaces at h and h are the counters,
which regulate the distances apart of the stems in
a line of type. The hollow groove extending across
the shank at e, e is the 7iich, wdiich enables the work-
man to recognize the direction of the type and to
distinguish different founts of the same body. The
absence of this simple expedient would retard the
operation of composing types by fully one-half. The
earliest type-founders did not know the use of the
nick. In some letters, such as j and f, a part of
the face overhangs the shank ; this is called the
kern. The groove g diviclcs the bottom of the type into two parts
called the feel. An impression from that part of a type on which
it stands would be as ^. Types must be perfectly rectangular,
the minutest deviatioir- rendei-ing them useless. Any roughness at
the sides is called burr, and any injury to their faces a baiter.
Smoothness, sharpness of angle, and perfection of finish are also
prime requirements. A line of types, when viewed along the back,
presents the appearance uf a solid bar of metal.
Species Types which have the face cast in the middle of the shank, as a,
cf letter, c, e, m, kc., and thus leave an open space above them corresponding
to that below, caused by the beard, are known as short letters.
Those whose stem extends to the top of the shank, as b, d, f, &c.,
are called ascending letters. Those that have a stem extending
over the shoulder, as g, p, kc. , are called descending letters. Those
that are both ascending and descending, and extend over the whole
of the shank, as Q and j, are long letters. Small letters and figures
cast upon the upper part of the shank, as 1", are called superiors ;
those very low down on the shank are inferiors, as H,. Types that
are very heavy and massive in appearance are called falfaced ;
those that are fine and delicate, leanfaced. A type whose face is
not in proportion to the depth of the shank {e.g., a small pica cast
on a pica body) is a bastard type.
Speci' Types are of various sizes, ranging from those used in printing
mens of pocket Bibles to those for large placards. The variation is con-
principal lined to the superficial dimensions of their ends, or bodies,'^s they
bodies, are called. Each body has a distinctive name. The following
are specimens of the principal bodies of ordinary types, and show
the relation of the various bodies one to another —
Printing h
Canon— ITJ lines to the foot-
Printing has b
Double great primer— 25g lines to the Toot.
Printing has been
Double EDgtiih— 32 Ifnca to the foot.
Printing has been defined to
t)ouble Plca^lJ lines tathe foot.
Printing has been defined to be
Great primer— 51j lines to the foot.
Printing has been defined to be the ac
English— 64 lines to the foot.
Printing has been defined to be the act, art, or
Pica— 71J lines to the foot.
Printing has been defined to be the act, art, or prac
Small pica— 83 lines to the foot.
Printing has been defined to be the act, art, or practice ot
■ Long primer— S9 lines to the foot.
Printing has been defined to be the act, art, or practice of i*
Bourgeois— 102J lines to the foot.
Printing has been defined to be the act, art, or practice of impress
Brevier— lU lines to the foot.
Printing has been defined to be the act, art, or practice of impressing
Minion— 122 lines to the foot.
Printing has been defined to be the act, art, or practice of irapressins lett
Emerald— 13S lines to the foot.
Printing has been defined to be the act, art, or practice of impressing letters,
Nonpareil- 143 lines to the foot
Printing has been defined to be the act, art, or practice of impressing letters, charaet
Ruby— 16C lines to the foot.
Printing has been defined to be the act. Rrt. or practice of imprcsslii; letters, choxocters, or flg
Pearl— 178 lines to the foot.
FnollDg bas bteo dcSaed to be the act, art, or practice of ImpreiiiDf Ictttri, chuacteri.ot 6pisc» on r*p«r, cloth.
Diamond— 207 lines to the foot.
PrisllDi hit b«D dtliDtJ lo b« tlic acl, wl. or pricilfc of iBpmtlDl Itllrn. ehuscttn, or llpirci oo r*r"> cl'»>^. » **^*
Gem— 222 lines to the foot.
PriElUf hu b«D de&scd (o U lb( act. >n, er pratiir< of ln>iini>lo| Ifdrn. ehiinclen, or Gram us p^ptr. clslb. «i oibn
Brilliant— 239 lines to the foot.
It is a confusing and inconvenient anomaly that the types made Size of
by diflTerent English founders vary in size, although they bear the types,
same name. The above figures refer to the types of Messrs Miller
and Richard, the royal type-founders for Scotland; but other
eminent makers supply, for instance, long primer which is 89.J,
90, or 92 lines to the foot. This has been remedied in America
by an agreement on the part of the founders to adopt one standard
pica, to divide that pica into a certain number of equal parts, and
to cast all their types as multiples of one of these parts. They
diyide the pica into twelve points, and the point is the unit upon
'which the system is based. There is also another practical advan-
tage in this multiple system : each type bears a simple proportion
to the others, and therefore can be used in exact combination. Thus
pearl is 5, nonpareil 6, minion 7, brevier 8, bourgeois 9, long primer
10, small pica 11, and pica 12 points. In Germany, France, and
other countries of the Continent a uniform system of points has
been adopted, based on a scale of 133 *' Ciceros" (corpus 12) to 60
centimetres. The types which most nearly correspond to those
already mentioned are : —
Point
Size in
Point
Size iD
Ems to
Centi-
Ems to
Centi-
Foot.
metre.
Foot.
metre.
Perl 5 .. . .
.lC2-]5
•1679
Borgis 9 . . .
0008
■3383
Nonparcille G
..135-12
■2-25G
Carnionrt 10 . . .
Sl-07
•3759
Colonel 7
.. 115-S3
•2C32
Cicero 12 . . .
67-50
-4511
Petit 8
..101-34
•300S
Tlie number of lines given to the foot in the above specimens of
bodies is the theoretic and practically the only approximative
standard. The height of types varies slightly with different
founders, the mean being ^S in. The old Scotch height is about
t-Jt) in. higher. Types lower than tlie ordinary dimension are said
to be low to paper, and if surrounded by higher types will not give
a perfect impressiOTi. Spaces and quadrats were formerly only three-
fourths of an inch in height ; but, since electrotyping has become
so common, they are almost invariably cut high, i.e., up to tho
shoulder of the type. Si.t lines of pica and twelve lines of nonpareil
each cover an inch in depth. It is, however, not possible to know
the size of a type in a printed page by placing a rule measure upon
it, as many books are not set solid : the lines are not close together,
but leaded out with pieces of lead, to make them cover a largci
space. A communication of great importance contributed to a
newspaper may be set up in the same type as the leading article ;
but if not leaiied it will appear to the noa -technical reader to be .
in a smaller character.
The -.vidth of pages or columns, in the technical language of tha
printing office, is expressed according to the number of "cm" "— i
PRACTICAI-J
TYPOGRAPHY
699
;hat is, of a pica m, — the square of the depth of pica. As the latter
is one-sixth of an inch, the era is the same width, and a page of
twenty-four ems wide is equal to one 4 inches wide. The columns
of this Etiq/clopxdia are 19 ems wide.
Varieties According to the purpose for which they are used, types are
«f face, divided into two classes— book type, including Roman and Italic,
and job type, including a multitude of fanciful forms of letter?,
chiefly founded on the sh.ipe of the Roman and Italic letters, and
intended to be more prominent, delicate, elegant, &c. It is im-
possible to enumerate all the varieties of the latter class, as addi-
tions are being constantly made and once popular styles always
going out of fashion. The leading varieties are the antiques, which
are Roman letters with strokes of nearly uniform thickness, as M ;
sanserifs or grotesques, which have no serifs, as M ; blacks, as fH ;
and scripts, which represent the modern cursive or Italian hand-
writing, as ^^. Black letter is now only a jobbing type in English-
spcafcing countries, although, as stated in the historical section of
thk article, it was the first character used in printing. It is still
used in Germany, with certain modifications, as the principal te.\t-
letter for books and newspapers. A comparison of the numerous
reproductions that have been issued of Caxton's works with any
modern line of black letter will show how greatly the form and
style have been altered within a period of four centuries. The present
style of Roman type dates only from aboiit the first quarter of the
ISth century. Previously the approved shape was as follows : —
Printing has been defined to be the act, art, or
The use of this type was revived by Whittingham of the Chiswick
Press about 1843, and it has since become a favourite form, under
the name of old style. Some of the punches cut by the first notable
English type-founder, William Caslon (1692-1766), have been pre-
served and types are being constantly cast from them. Nearly all
foimdei-s now produce modernized old style. For the recent revival
of old style printing, see p. 710 be-low.
Large letters, sucli as are employed for large bills and posters,
are made of wood, chiefly rock maple, sycamore, pine, and lime.
These are cut up, planed to the required size, and then engraved,
generally by special machinery, this being a business quite dis-
tinct from that of letter-founding. The larger letters are designated
as two line, three line, four line, kc, — meaning twice, thrice, or four
times the depth of face of pica or great primer, kc.
T>-pe Type metal is an alloy, of which lead is the ])rincinal ingredient ;
oietsl. but, owing to its softness, antimony and tin are added (see vol. ii.
p. 129 and vol. xiv. p. 378). A pateut type metal (Besley's) was
invented in 1355 in which the mi.\t«re consisted of lead, regulus of
antimony, tin, nickel, copper, and bismuth. Nearly all tyiie is
now made with some of these metals superadded. Ductility, hard-
ness, and toughness are the prime requisites of a type metal.
Making The earliest printers made their own types, and the books printed
of tj-pes. from them can now be distinguished with almost as much certainty
as handwriting can be identified. The modern printer has recoui'se
to the type-founder. The first step in the making of type is cutting
the letter on the end of a piece of "fiue steel, forming the punch (see
fig. 2), which is after- ^^
wards hardened. This 4^^
is an operation requir- .- J I
ing great care and /
nicety (there being
■comparatively few f""-,!/
iidepts at it), in order
I hat the various sorts
in a fount may be e.x-
,-<ctly uniform in width,
height, and general
.proportions to each
-other A separate p,g 2 Jp„„^^ Fio. 3.-Drive.
punch IS required lor
^-ach character in every fount of type, and the making of them
is the most expensive branch of type-fouuding. During the pro-
cess of its manufacture the punch is frequently tested or measured
by delicate gauges to insure its accuracy. When finished it
is held over a light, the flame of which blackens the letter, and
thus enables, an impression, called a sniok'e yroof, to be stamped
«n paper. When the letter is jwrfect, it is driven into a piece of
jiolished copper, called the drive or strik-e (fi". 3). This passes
to the justifier, who makes the width and depth of the faces
>miform throughout the fount. They must then be made to line
f.^actly with each other. When completed, the strike becomes the
matri.K (fig. 4), wherein the face of the type is m.^de. This method
of making a matrix has until now been in almost uuivei-sal use in
■Great Britain. It is, however, a very slow and costly process.
In America the great majority of matrices are made otherwise.
If the design of the fount to be produced is original, it is often
■cut by hand or by an engi-aving-machine on the piece of metal
which is to form the nratrix. If, on the other hand, an existing
fount has to be copied, the matrix is made by electro-deposition.
Matrix.
^^r
Fio. ,5.— MoulJ.
A perfectly good type is selected, and inserted in a mould specially
made, called a fusible mould (fig. 5). Sufficient metal of a more
fusible nature than the
type is cast round it, and
forms a s^pe similar to
that of the ordinary mat-
rix. This fusible cast is
then placed in a box pro-
tectee! by glass and gutta-
percha, in order that the
copper deposit may be
kept square and to the
proper dimensions. This
arrangement also limits
the deposition to the face.
The box is immersed in
the copper electrotyping
solution, in wliich it may
be left until the deposit
of metal has increased to
a thickness at which it
may be backed up with copper, or it is left until it reaches the
full thickness, which is about ,^ of an m6h. It is then fitted
in line, set, position, and height. The minutest imperfection or
blemish is reproduced by the deposition, and the type cast from
such a matrix is a perfect counterpart of the original. A school of
type-engravers has recently sprung up in the United States, cutting
exclusively on metal and producing ornamentation and finish which
the punch-cutters cannot rival. It is expected that in the course of
time the electrotype matrix will nearly supersede that made in the
old-fashioned way with the punch In the ordinary method the
mould in which the body of the type is formed is made of hardened
steel in two parts ; one part is fastened to the machine and is station-
ary, while the other is movable so that it may be adjusted for the
proper width of the letters, as one is wider than another. The com-
bined matrix and mould are then adjusted to the type-easting
machine, which manufactures types at the rate of from 25 to about
120 per minute, according to the body. The metal is kept fluid by
a little furnace underneath and is injected into the mould by a
pump, the spout of which is in front of the metal pot. The mould
is movable, and at every revolution of the wheel it comes up to the
spout, receives a charge of metal, aud flies back with a fully formed
type in its bosom ; when the upper half of the mould is lifted, a type
is ejected. The spring in front holds the copper matrix in close
proximity to the mould. The letter a, for instance, stamped in the
matrix is directly opposite the aperture in the mould which meets
the spout of the pump. When a due proportion of a's are cast,
another matrix with b stamped on it takes its place, and so on
throughout the whole fount. The types, however, are not finished
when they leave the machine. There will be found attached to
each a wedge-shaped Jet (fig. 6), somewhat similar to that
on a bullet cast in a hand-mould. These are picked off by
boys at the rate of from 2000 to 6000 per hour. A burr
which still adheres to the shoulder of the type is taken ofl
by the rubbers, who rub the sides on circular stones or on
files. The types afterwards go to the setters, who arrange
them in long lines ready for the dresser, and he slips them
into a long stick, turns them on their face, aud, after duly
fastening them, cuts with a plane a gioove in the bottom,
which forms the feet. (These processes are now tVequently
performed by a machiue, w hich produces types that do not
require rubbing or dressing.) The types are then dressed
and the picker takes them in hand, in order to pick out Fio. 0.
each defective letter with the aid of a magnifying glass. "^YV^
They are finally made up into parcels of a convenient size,
called type-foiLndeTS pages, weighing about 8 lb each.
Subjoined is a description of a machine for performing automa- Auto-
tically the various operations of casting and fiuisliing type which matic
was invented about twenty yeai-s ago by Messrs J. R. Johnson and typecast-
J. S. Atkinson. In this apparatus the metal is fused, injected into ing .m.l
the mould, the cast letter turned out, rubbed or planed, first on finialihg
one side and then on the other, the feet cut out and smoothed, the macUiue.
dressed sides planed alternately, and the finished letter set up on a
stick ready for use by the printer. The casting machine and the
dressing machine are in reality distinct, though mounted on a com-
mon fianie. The whole is driven by a steam-engine or other prime
mover. The casting machine consists of a furnace covered by a
shallow pot holding the fused metal. In this is a pump, and the
mould is placed opposite its nozzle. The mould being adjusted
and the matrix in its place, the molten metal is injected and then
solidifies, forming a perfect type, but with jet attached. This
letter is then thrust out, and the mould closes again for another
jet of molten metal. All this is cfl"ected by one revolution of the
axle of the machine. The letters pass through a ch.mnel one by
one into the dressing machine. On arriving there liicy have each-
of their sides planed in succession by being held against ciitters. '
When one side is made true with respect to the set of tire letter on
with
jet.
TYPOGRAPHY
700
its/ace, it is passed over ^-Og^^cut^er which planes^th^ second
?:L'iV°y's;erbf tho'XuIat'c.^ -d there i, considerable re-
ductioQ in its cost
Type-Selling or Composing.
below tlieyoitcroKe. -The
former contains ninety-,
eight equal-sized boxeS:
appropriated princi'
pally to the capital
and small capital
letters; the latter
has fifty -three
boxes
ous
appropri
ated
[PKACTICAI.
Fio. 7.— Type-case.
fn the lower-case Sorts. The difference in the size of the boses
rto':c"oVr;^o'd"a"eTaV^^ng''kngU>tof lines, .in the compos.ng
Voom theTames are ar.Ufed ufrows. supporting the eases. Th
!,!,nvr,n«itnr fixes the "copy, or document which he is to repeal
nTp in a convenient pkce before his eye, and on son^e part of
the case that is seldom used. In his left hand '>'= '\°'<1=. ^^f f""^
Dosina stick! and with the thumb and first finger of the right hand
Ift^fhe letters from the boxes, and arranges hem in the com-
po^ng stick every letter, point, or sign being picked out separat ly.
^nthfs operation he is much assisted by the use of a setUng-rulc,
ithn brass or steel plate which, being removed as successive lines
are coniple ed' keeps the type in place. When so many words and
tarts of words as ^11 nearly fill tlie line have been composed it
?s made he exact length required by inserting or diminishing the
space between the several wSids. This is called j.sn^ng the hne
and is effected by means of the spaces already mentioned. It the
work is not "solid "-that is. if the lines are not close toge her-
The strips of ni Ul called leads are used. They vary in thickness
hut a wivsfoim aliquot parts of pica body. A good compositor
must po ess intelligence and a reasonable amount of general know-
Ud'e^he mis be able to read his copy with readiness, and to
unX tand its meaning, in order to P"°^'"^'%'' P^P^y^h"
should be able to spell correctly, as some copy is almost undecipher
IbleUi regard to separate letters, while other copy is incorrect y
Bpelt Wfien the composing stick is filled the type is lifted on to
Tmllcu a shallow triy of wood or metal, two or three sides of
whkh a e flanged, for the purpose of supportmg the type, when the
galley is slightly inclined Stic^i^^^-tickMof^is^^^
required length lV""^^j ,IA ;" the caces are arranged in such
slip). It is then imposed, that is the pages are s ^^^j
?, liJet arHaFled the outer and inner formes respectively. A.
let of octavri folded three times, making 8 leaves or 1.6 pages-
The size of a book depends, not onlv "P°« t^^ f"""^" ""Hlmi
sheet has been folded, and described accordingly as 4to, 8vo, 12mo
l! but upon"the size of the sheets. The dunensions of the paper.
~"o^,"lS.'x%r* .'r^oXlotirS^i; ?9xI2 raemy;
m X 22i douWe crown 20 X 30 ; double foolscap, 17 x 27.-, post,
isl X m ' Hence to sa} that a book is a quarto mere y gives no
precise indication of its dimensions, as a quarto of one size of paper
Sarbe smaller" than an octavo of another ; it is also necessary to
'^"fc!;v;^nntKisVpS:i't':srfrd'-th^^
of cer4"n Lges there is usu^ally a letter and at the foot of ano her ture^
a letter and a figure, as B. B 2 ; further on another letter and ano her
ktter and figurl. On gouig through the book it will be seen that
fJie letters are in regular alphabetical order, and occur at regular
Sterva s of e gilt, tN?elve, sixteen. &c., pages These designate the
leverll sheets of which the book is composed and are called «r^a-
?rr« so that a sheet may be designated B, and the pages of which
t con's.^ are%hei-eby suVcientlf indicated (Oceas.onal y, as in
the nresent work, numbers are used instead of letters.) ineso
si^atures assist he binder in folding, as they occupy a certain
srcified place in each sheet ; hence to ascertain if the sl.eet has
specinea piace necessary to examine the position of
tresgnatur^e^The binder Ilso is th^s assisted in gatkerinao,
collatrg "ether the sheets of a volume in t-roper order S.gna-
ui« A if omitted, because it would be on the title or first page .nd
would be bo I unnecessary and unsightly. By old custom .J. V,
rd w'/re diLrded, I an(j.U and V being orignally used nid.s^
1 'Vhe^p^ageriftpe's "e'fr^ang^d'in proper orde.r on a flat tabK Fortne.
' cove ed'^vith stone or metal, called the ii,<pcsing » »"J. f^d are then
ready to be made into a /orm. that.is m such a state that they
can be securely fastened up and moved about. Ihe lorme is en
interest to the workman. , j construct TVP**
composing machines that na\e uecu '"."''^= _, , v q^.
hav stooS the test of Practical exp^rien. The l-e^been^con^
PRACTICAL.]
TYPOGRAPHY
701
Flo. 0. — Fraser composing machine.
ground of economy with any possible mechanical arrangement On
the other hand, employers and makers of machines allege that
■owing to the opposition of the men machine type-setting has
not had fair play. However that may be, it is undeniable that
a composing machine is still rare in priiiting offices, and wlicre
■employed it is only as an auxiliarj* to the ordinary labour of the
men. It deserves to be mentioned that nearly the whole of the
Ti'iies, with the single exception of the advertisements, has for
jearc past been set up by machinerj', and that more than 10,000
pages of the present edition of tlie Encyclopedia Britannka have
also been so set up. We have not space to describe witlj any
minuteness the construction of
composing machines. In tlic
Traser machine (fig. 8), one of
the simplest of its class, whicfi
has been made use of to the
extent already mentioned in
the present work, the types
are contained in a series of
grooved trays A, in the upper
part of the machine, the trays
laving preWously been filled
by complementary apparatus
■called the distrilmlor. In
these trays the types are kept
in position, and pressed to-
wards the front part of each
tray, by slips of metal at-
tached by cords to the box-
wheels B ; each of these con-
tains a spring of sufficient
■strength to press the line of
types steadily forward against the separators C, which are formed
■with an inverted shoulder, under which the front type in each
line passes. The keys are connected by levers to the separators,
and the depression of any key causes the corresponding separ-
ator to descend, carrying with it the front type of the line
into the grooved face ■plate, down which it slides into the com-
posing stick G. Immediately the finger is lifted from the key the
spiral spring D raises the separator to its original position, and the
next type in the line takes the place of the one just released, and
so in succession as fast as the keys can be pressed. Under the keys
runs a rod connected by a crank motion with the pusher G, which,
■with every depression of a key, pushes forward the line of type in
the composing stick, thus making room for tlie next letter. The
matter is thus set in one continuous line, ready to be divided into
lines of the required length either by the operator at the macliine or
by another hand working in conjunction. The speed of the machine
varies from 6000 to 12,000 types per hour, but is regulated solely
by the skill of the operator, as the machine will work as fast as
the keys can be pressed. The composing machines now employed
at the Times office are an improved form of ah apparatus invented
by Charles Kastenbein, and introduced there in 1872. The oper-
ator sits in front of four rows of keys one above the other, something
like the manuals ■of an organ, but only about 3 feet wide. Each
■of the keys corresponds to a type or character. The types are kept
in tin tubes placed vertically at the top of the machine. The de-
pression of a key works a series of levers, and an iron finger pushes
the undermost type from its tube, when it falls into a groove formed
in a conducting plate, narrowing at the bottom to its apex. Imme-
diately below is a receptacle, and by the action of a treadle the type
is pushed along a channel Other letters follow, the matter being
thus set up in a long line, on a groove of the width of an em quad,
and running from left to right The type when it first comes into
the groove is in an upright position, but in passing along it becomes
twisted, so that the letters stand at an angle of about 45° when
they reach the point at which they are justified. This groove co£n-
iDunicates at its de.xter extremity with the justifying galley, — a
simple apparatus, something of the nature of a composing stick and
galley combined. Then the type is divided into portions or lines
of the required length and justified in the galley, which is adjustable
to the width of the required length. As the long line approaclies
him, the justifier with a small bodkin accelerates a portion large
■enough in his judgment to fill the width of his column. When
this is done he presses his foot on the treadle under him, and
thereby causes the line to be pushed into the galley. The line is
justified by spaces and quads, and enough type is then taken for
another line. The speed depends on-the opecator, and varies from
6000 to 13,000 types per hour, the average being about 8000, with
two operators, — a justifier and a compositor being also necessary.
These machines are worked in the Tinus office at the rate of a
column of solid .minion an hour. The machine occupies'a floor!
space of only about 4 feet wide by 2 deep.
Another machine at present in use is that of Mr Robert Ilattersley
of Jlanchester. It probably furnished the general scheme of others
in use. One of the most ingenious machines of the kind is that of
Mr Alexander Mackie of Warrington, its general principle being I
the adoption t*setting np types of the Jacquar<l card of the powet
loom, which weaves automatically the most intricate patterns ol
cloth. The apparatus consists of three parts, — two used for pre-
paring the "card " or ribbon, which directs the thiixl in the opera-
tion of typo composing. The perforator is like a small cottage
pianoforte. When the keys are struck they produce a perfoi-ation,
and the ribbon is tnade to move aside a little, so tliat a new surface
may be presented for puncturing. The composer is a circular iron
table, 4 feet in diameter, baring round its periphery a number of
bo.xes divided into sections, each of which holds one kind of typo.
On a slightly lower plane is a wheel carrying little brass tables,
hinged at one end. When the niacliiuo is in motion, the types
are pushed out on to the table, which passes with its freight round
its course until it tomes to the point of delivery, when the types
are swept ofif. The rising of the table, and the drawing out of the
types, are guided by the perforated paper. Hence the machine
sets types without a huni.-in compositor. When once the ribbon is
perforated, it may be used over again for subsequent editions of
the sany; work, which may be in a difltrcnt size of type. These
machines are only in use i.u the office of the inventor.
As has been already described under RcronTIKG (vol. XX. p. 406),
the parliamentary reports of some newspapers are set up entirely
without copy,— by the oar, not by the eye. It has been found that
by the aid of the machine the matter can be set up half as fast i
again as it could be written out : the average speed of the compos- i
ing machine is 230 lines per hour when the copy is dictated to the
operator, whereas the most skilful workman setting at ease in the
usual way can do but 50 lines per hour.
For many years it was a fivourite idea with inventors, especially EpRO-
those who were not practic.il printers, that great economy might be tjpcf^
gained in composition by the u.^^e of word-cliaracters or "logotypes,"
instead of single letters. The constant repetition of many words
seemed to suggest that tbiy might be cast in one piece. Combina-
tions suitable foraffi.^csand suffixes, as ad-, ac-, in-, -ing, -ment, &c.i
it was also suggested, should be u.sed iustead of the single component
letters. The suggestion has, however, not been carried out, at least
to any considerable extent. The chief practical objection to it is
that it involves the use of cases with an inconveniently large num<
ber of boxes. The more the variety of characters is multiplied thft
moi'e^' travel " of the compositor's hand over the cases is necessary
for pickiiig them up, and by so much is the speed of his work re-
tarded. Logotypes, too, are more liable to accident i when one
letter is damaged the combination, is rendered useless.
The correction of the type is a subject that should be understood CBrrccV
by all who have to do with printing, as many mistakes are made iog tjlft
on the part of authors which a little technical knowledge would
prevent. In the course of setting any copy or JIS. which may be
given him the compositor unavoidably picks, up some wrong letters,
oamistakes the words in the-copy l/efore hiui, or fails to follow the
style prescribed for the work. These are called printer's errors.
When the composit9r has finislwd his task, a first proof of the
matter is taken. This proof is read through and compared witb
the copy by the proof reader or corrector of the press and an assist-
ant, the copy-holder or reading boy. The proof is then sent hack
to the-compositor and the latter is required to coriect all the inac-
curacies-indicated therein-.-in fact, to attend to .ill the direction'
given by the reader — and-this has to be done at his own cost if he
is working on piece — ^that is, paid by results according to work done
— or by the employer if he is working *' on establishnient wages *' or
paid by time. Another proaf called a revise is now taken ; this is
carefully compared with the previous proof. If the corrections
have not all been made, the reviseis markiid accordingly, and sent
back to the compositor, who is required to remedy the imperfec-
tions. When the proof is deemed accurate, or *' clean," it is sent,
generally along with the copy, to the author, — being now termed
an author's proof. Finally, in the printing office the matter is
carefully re-rtad and compared with the last author's proof by the
press reader, who signs it and on his responsibility the type is
printed off.
The operation pf distributing the types is the converse of that Disttl.
of composing ; it is de-composing the forme and returning the buting
several letters to their proper boxes in the case. It is done, as already type,
mentioned, with remarkable rapidity.^ The' forme is first washed
over with an alkaline or other detergent to remove the ink from
its surface, and then laid down on the imposing surface, unlocked,
and damped ; this assists the cohesion of the type, after the chase,
furniture, side sticks, &c., are removed. The compositor then takes
in his left hand, suppoi-ted by a setting rule, a portion of type in
linBs, and with the right hand takes a word or so between the finger
and thumb, letting each letter drop separately into its proper box.
There is hardly any operation which so strikes a spectator as dis-
tributing, for a competent distributor literally showers the typea
into their receptacles. The types are held upside down, that is,
with the nicks uppermost ; hence the letters of each word are read
from left to right like ordinary matter when printed, but the words
are of co\irse dealt with in the inverse order.
Distributing -machines of many different kinds liave beeaijiVfUied.
702
TYPOGRAPHY
fpRAC-rlCAU
m_ a; tv.^ r„,v >,<. divided into two classes,— those worked entirely by
L^?The t^^^e^Qires to &e specially prepared, each character
ha^n- a distinctive Dick or nicks upon it, which correspond with
the mrticular channel of the machine it is intended to occupy, and
bv which It is gnided to its special compartment^ Ka^tenbe.n has
produced a difTribntor which may be described as ^^ composing
machine revelled. The matter to he decomposed is plac^.\t '•>«
top iTits appropriate tray or fixed galley, the sides <>/ ^^h'^b are
SdfnstoWe to'fit any measure, the back being so constructed tha
it mav be advanced to keep the matter always up to the front. As
th?mat ter is pr^ed towar'ds the front, the first letter of it is brought
00" wi^n steel pusher, behind it being ^^ ^F/^re com
municating with the channel of the guide plate. The matter is
^ihy the operator ; and he touches the key corresponding to the
letter that comes first. Thus the types are conveyed one by one
to the -^de plate or conductor. It has grooves furnished with
Uttle ktS or switches, like the points of a railway, and these direct
the tip s into their proper channels The tubes into '^li'chthe
tvWare deposited are placed at the foot of each groove. Thus
e^ toe Xv is depressed the switches move the PJ>*er sends
the^T^to be distributed out of the line it falls through the
ap^rSFe, and, passing down the channels in the guide plate, reaches
the proper tube. The speed — = — - -
is to a certain extent depend-
ent upon the skill of the
operator, but averages be-
tween 3500 and 4000 per hour.
A good compositor can by
hand alone disti-ibute as
many letters as this. Bnt for
the purposes of the composing
machine, hand distributed
types would have to be set
op again, as the composing
machine is supplied not from
ordinary cases but from tubes
of type. In the Fraser dis- ,
tributing machine (fig. 9) the pj^ 9._praser distributing macliine.
the comoosins machine
Stereotyping, EUctfOtyping, Ac _
The method of reproducing and multiplpng fetter-press prmting
t"""^', suS^sbv taking Lts of them, or stereotypes, has greatly con-
tages of 5^^,„°.L nropress of tvpo-'raphy.— much more so, mdeed, than
machine are increased in proportion '''."'f ."7^' f.^'?^ ren™-
This in turn may likewise become an onginal. and casts may M
r^e Then came the era of typography, in which these pages
wpre composed, mosaiclike. of movable types. N mv has succeeded
the period of stereotj-ping, in which pages formed of single block»
but of metal, not of wood— are used. The two essential parts are,
therefore, the making of the matrix and of the cast, which is com-
posed of an alloy something like that for type metal The moulj
may be of plaster <rf Paris or papier-mache , the latter being tha
simplest material, and that almost universally used, need alone be
here referred to. The follomng account of the process, when carriec
out on the smallest possible scale, is su£ficient_ perhaps to show th(
general prmciples of the art The papier-mache for the mould,
tailed /OOT, is made by uniting several sheets of paper with a paste
made of wheaten flour, starch, and alum, to Kliich whiting is added.
These ingredients are often varied , the general obiect in usin^ them
is to obtain a paste which will stand a high temperature mthout
burnin" A sheet of brown paper is laid down on a smooth surlace
and palted over ; blotting paper is laid on that and pressed do^vn.
then pasted over, and a sheet of tissue paper added, which is also
pasted, and another sheet of tissue paper placed on the top. ihis
is well smoothed and pressed to give the incorporated matenal
CTCater firmness and cohesion Next, to prepare the forme for bem»
moulded, it is surrounded with metal ■'clumps of the height of
the type, placed close to the matter, and then oiled to prevent the
flon- stickling to it. The latter is then thoroughly damped, Ic
render it quite plastic The forme being on a level surface, the
flong is laid upon it. and on that a piece of linen. The surface
s nest weU biaten all over with a fong-handled brush, till the
flong sinks into all the declivities of the forme and receives a deep
impiession of it. This is a process requiring expenence and practice^
The linen being removed, a piece of very stout paper is laid on th»
top, and also btaten down, so as to strengthen the flong and the
moulding is finished. The next point is to dry the mouli
In the most rudimentary method a combined drjnng and (»stin|
press is used. It consists of a fiat iron surface, with a lid attached
to one end by hinges. Over the surface is a cross-head fitted with a
screw: pressure maybe exerted on anything placed between, the
arrangement being like that of a screw letter-copying pr/ss. The
cross-lead can be' moved to one side when it is necessary for the lid
to be lifted up. Underneath the press is a series of gas jets, by
means of which the bed plate is Seated. The press stands on
supports, but is attached to them only by an ax e, and it can be
reldily changed from the horizontal to the vertical position. The
lid of the box is raised and the forme with the (long upon it placed
on the centre of the iron siu-face. After being covered with a
blanket, the lid is screwed down upon the whole, and. the gas being
liXted, the forme and mould are heated for a few minutes, after
wliich the lid is raised, the steam evaporates, and the flong, which
ha^ now become the matrix, is thoroughly dry. In large stereo^p-
ng foundries, after the flong has been well beaten upon the fonne
until the impression of the types is plainly seen on the back t is
baked and dried (the forme still underneath) on a long thick iron
Bkb called a hot chamUr. because it is heated from within by steanr.
The matrix is then removed from the forme, and any superfluous
niar^n cut away or trimmed ; after this the matrix ,s dusted wih
powdered French chalk and is ready for being cast rom_ • A method
hariately come into use for obviating the necessity of keeping the
matrix on the type while it is being hardened by drying by lieat,
whereby the U-pe is injured. The matrix is dried separately, being
removerwhea moist from the forme a^ soon as he .mpression is
obuined It is then placed on a bed of sand heated by gas The
?ome is never heated, and there is a great saving of ^e, because
th™ r^'ng can be done in two minutes The matrix is l^"! on th/
l«d o7the casting box face upwards, with gauges around it to de-
^rm^ne the height or thickness of the cast The lid >s P« down
and screwed tightly, and the position of the press altered from the
horizontTrto the upright The metal is then poured m and the
D?e™ restored to its fomer position. The matrix .s carefully raised
Khe plate exposed. It'has only to be '■ trimmed,'' the su^r-
fluous metal cutaway, and the back planed to be ready for mount-
incr on a block of wood to make it type high. (..,„»
!n "tereotvpins for the Walter and similar presses the pr««s3 Stereo-
is as ollows'^ !he forme is laid on the table of the moulding t>THng
machine and the flong placed on it and thoroughly beaten in by for a
hauH? paLd through a moulding machine, which performs the \^aUe•
LmooiveFarion The'forme is next placed on -J-^^IX^^^ "-'''
and when nearly dried the matrix is removed from it <">Q aga'"
and When nca y ._^ ^^^ ^ ^^^ ^^ ^^ j^ j^,
S^umference of L cylinder of the press. The box, being on a
sw" eT is set upnght. The metal is now poured in from a
ladle and the platctast. It is allowed to stand a minute and then
token out still hot, and placed upon a "finishmg saddle of the
^me chcular form L the back of t'hej.late. and secured by clamps
and screws An angular-shaped kniVe or chisel, fixed in a cam-
a°e » moved by a handle in a semicircular direction across the
suriace^f the plate, in order to remove superfluous portions of
I" , .nd .0 form a bevel whereby the plate can be su'bsequently
1 These matricM can be r-reservedtor several years, and the stereotyping pn>-
1 cess postponed until octually required.
PRACTICAI-J
TYPOGRAPHY
703
Cellaloid
and
ijidia-
rubber
«t€I«03.
clamped on the machine. If necessary the plate may be smoothed
at the back by a specially-contrived planing machine. The plate
i3 now ready for oeing placed on the printing machine. Each
single operation can be performed with the utmost possible despatch.
If the organization is sufficiently perfect, the time for making a
plate, from the moment when the forme comes down fr«m the
machine- room to that wherein the perfect plate is set on the
machine, need only be about eight minutes.
For In newspaper establishments whore stereotyping is thus adopted
news- the pages are not all made up simultaneously : some are kept open
pasers. , till the last for the latest telegrams. The moment a page is com-
pleted and locked up in its chase it is sent down to the foundry,
and as many casts taken as there are printing machines to be set
going. One (>age follows another with rapidity, the first being
placed in position on the machine, while the later ones are in the
foundry. When all the plates a're finished and fi-ied in their
places, sis, eight, or ten machines may be simultaneously printing
it the rate of nearly 12,000 per hour each. The enormous increase
in the circulation of the great daily newspapers wnuld have been
impossible but for the extraordinary facilities for rapid production
provided by stereotyping This process is also of special atility to
the newspaper printer in the case of telegrams arriving late. In
machines wliich printed from the type, late telegrams could only
be inserted by a "stop-press" , that is. the printing was inter-
rupted while the alteration was being made. But, when the
papier-mache casts of the pages have been taken, the type itself is
liberated and sent back to the composing room, so that, if later
news arrives while the machines are running, the foreman printer
alters the page, a fresh cast of it is taken, and a machine started
without interrupting the production for a moment. The London
evening papers nave usually five editions, and for every edition
fresh casts are made of one or more of the nage-s.
Quite recently the substance called celluloid has been Introduced
instead of the metal referred to previously. A mould is made of
yellow oxide of lead and glycerin formed into a semi-fluid paste,
which is applied to the surface of the type. The matrix is placed
on a powerful press and a heated sheet of celluloid about fy of an
inch thick is laid on it. When pressure is applied, a perfect facsimile
is obtained, and it is ready to be printed from when mounted in the
usual way Whereas a good electrotype from a wood block averages
six hours in its production, a cast in celluloid can be got in less than
an hour. These blocks are very tough and many thousands more
of impressions can be printed from them than from stereotypes with-
out their showing signs of wear. For small stamps india-rubber is
used as a stereotyping material, and after^'ards vulcanized. These
stamps, being flexible, print on rough surfaces which would not
take an impression from ordinary stereotypes. With a flexible
surface, too, much less pressure is required.
Printing Machines have been invented to do away with the use of types
by means altogether. The principle is to punch the characters successively
*f* on some substance which wHl act like the flong and become a
punches, monld from which stereo plates may be cast. . In an apparatus
recently introduced the flong is a prepared piece of millboard,
which is placed in front of the steel punches. The latter are driven
into the flong with lightning speed and great accuracy. By turn-
ing a handle all the Roman punches are changed to Italic ; by
another a set of sanserif or other founts comes into play. For set-
ting time-tables and logarithms the apparatus is said to save ninety
per cent, over the ordinary system of hand-setting. The obstacle
to the more general use of it is the difficulty of correcting errors.
In another machine the punches are driven into a block of teak
wood. They are cast to thicknesses which are the multiple of a
"point" ; hence by a simple calculation they may be spaced out
to the exact number of points chosen for the length of the line, and
every line leaves the machine justified. The block when com-
plete is removed and a stereotype taken, which can be printed as in
the ordinary method of typography
Electro- For the reproduction of wood engravings electrotyping has
typing nearly superseded stereotyping, as it produces much better copies.
For obtaining plates of type matter it is also better than stereo-
typing, as many thousands of impressions may be taken without
reducing the sharpness of an electro, while ordinary stereotype
would be almost worn out by printing a much smaller number.
This arises from the superior hardness and toughness of copper, of
which the surface of the electro is formed. Electrotyping, however,
is costlier and slower.
The forme to be electrotyped' is placed upon a level plate, and
snrronnded with type-high clumps or inetal furniture, and then
floated with plaster of Paris, which prevents the mould of was
(to be afterwards made) from penetrating too far into the interstices
of the spaces. The forme is next bnished with finely powdered
blacklead or plumbago. The moulding composition is made of
melted wax, with the addition of a littleWacklead. This is poured
into a shallow metal moulding tray, to which two pieces of stout
wire are soldered, in order that it may be afterwards suspended in
the depositing trough. After the composition is cooled and set its
•arlace is brushed with blacklead, And it is then t«ady for moulding.
The moulding press may be something like a letter-copving press,
or, in a large establishment, may consist of a powerful hydraulio
or other press capable of exercising a pressure of many tons. The
forme is placed exactly under the centre of the platen, with the
moulding tray containing the wax, slightly warm, upon it .An
impression is then taken, and the mould afterwards separated fi-om
the forme. The mould has next to go through the process of
biLilding, that is, heated wax is dropped upon such portions as should
be more deeply sunk in the finished electrotype plate, namely, Iha
places where "whites" are to appear in the print. The tnotUd,
having been finished, has to be blackleaded, plumbago being a con-
ductor of electricity, while wax is a non-conductor. The material
is well brushed in, filling all the interstices of the forme ; and tha;
entire surface of tie mould must be properly covered, to ensure
a perfect deposit of the copper. To facilitate this operation, a
blackleading machine is used in large establishments. The forme
is placed upon a carriage formed of transverse bars and is moved
backwards and forwards by a handle and rounce to bring it under
the blacklead brush After the mould is blackleaded, the backof
the moulding pan is coated with wax, to prevent the copper from
being deposited upon it. The mould is now quickly immersed in
one of the compartments of the battery. The process of depositing
a copper solution upon the blackleaded surface of the mould is
continued until a solid plate is formed, which, though it is scarcely
thicker than a finger nail, being about -f^ inch, forms, when pro-
perly backed, the best and most enduring surface for letterpress
printing that has been discovered. ^ ••'
The moulding tray containing the mould is hung on the brass
rod of the depositing trough facing a plate of copper, and the con-
nexion of the battery made . that is, the mould is attached to one
pole of the batteiy and the plate of copper to the other. The
copper, so to speak, is decomposed on the one hand and recomposed
on the other : in other words, the current of electricity being com-
plete, and the mould submerged in the sulphate of copper solution,
the deposition of copper on the mould at once commences. Here
it remains until the deposit is sufficient, the time usually occupied
being from 8 to 12 houi-s, according to the state of the solutio*
and the strength of the battenes. The dynamo. electro machine,
w-hich is now employed in large bouses, very materially reduces
this period ^ otherwise Smee's battenes are generally used. When
the deposit, or, as it is called, the shell, formed on the wax mould
is of proper thickness, it is disengaged from the wax, — the mould
being placed with its back on an inclined board, and boiling water
poured over the shell, which melts the surface of the wax, except
a thin coating, the removal of which is effected by placing tha
mould and shell on a steam heating table. Thus the wax mouli^'
is destroyed, and it is not possible to obtain more than one shell
from a mould, whereas the stereotype process enables almost any
number of casts to be taten from the same matrix. The shell,
being too thin and fragile to be printed from, is next backed,
or filled up with metal o7 a somewhat softer kind than stereo metaL
The shell, after being further cleaned, is lowered on to the top
of a vessel of molten type metal ; and, when the solder previously
used to unite the copper and the metal has fused, the latter is poured
over it in a molten state until it is covered. The plate is washed,
dried, and polished, the back roughly planed to a surface parallel
to the front, the edges squared, and all imperfections made good.
The thickness of a plate is usuallya pica or ^th inch. It is mounted
as.an ordinary stereotype plate. Within the last few yeare the pro-
cess has been greatly facilitated by the emplojTnent of specially
contrived apparatus, and illustrations can be producad in three
hours from the time the mould is made. Curved electros are pro-
duced, as well as curved stereos, for use in rotary printing. Facin(» •
with nickel by the electroplating process is now largely adoptea
for hardening stereotypes and electrotypes and rendering them more •
durable. This process also prevents the deterioration of such plates
by the action of the acids or other chemical reagents often present
in printing inks, such as cyanide of potassium in red ink ana nitric
acid in some blue inks ^
Folytyping is a method invented in France about the end of the Poly-
18th century, but now seldom practised in the United Kingdom, typing-
The apparatus somewhat resembles a pile-driver. It has two upright
guides about six feet high, and a pulley at the top, which elevates
by means of a rope a heavy plate, on which the matrix is placed in
an inverted position. At the foot of the machine there is a sub-
stantial iron bed, upon which the operator places some molten
metal He then polls the rope until the matrix, with its weight
attached, is elevated to the top of the machine, when it is suddenly
allowed to fall. The result is similar to that made on a medal by
means of a die, — a perfect reproduction of the matrix in relief,
which is mounted on a metal stand to type height. The results
are excellent, as the plastic metal is forced into the finest lines of
the matrix. Duplicates of a block can be thus produced more
rapidly than by the ordinary stereotype process ; and another ad-
vantage is that the intaglio parts are much deeper, — a point of
some importance in printing. The matrix may be made from the
block by the electrotyping process.
;o4
TYPOGRAPHY
[pKACTICAt.
Substitutes/or fFood-Eiigraving.
Process FontKrly the only available method of obtaining illustrations
ilocks. which could be printed on the letterpress in conjunction-with type
was that of wood -engraving. At the present time a number of
comparatively new processes are in operation, in which the engraT
ing as done almost automatically by the adoption of chemical pro-
cesses and the well-known principles of photography. Engravings
of this kind are called iii the trade process blocks, or sometimes ziiwo-
lypcs, owing to the metal of which they are formoi There is space
iiere for only the barest possible account nf the processes,
rypo- 1 In the first method, which is sometimes Called ty-po^ctchiiig, the
tcliinj ilrawing is made with ordinary lithographic ink on stone, or on
paper and transferred to stone. It is then re-transferred to a plate
of polished zinc by the ordinary lithographic process. Ziiio is
employed on account of its cheapness and its ready solubility in
the acids used for etching. It has properties similar to those of
the lithographic stone in taking up the ink and the water. The
transfer is made to adhere to the plate by being passed through a
lithographic press ; the paper is then sti-ippcd on; and the whole
of the ink is left on the plate, which is inked up as a Htho stone
with a view to render the lines as solid and strong as possible to
resist the acid. The covering of the lines is strengthened by dust-
ing powdered asphalt or some other suitable material over the plate,
t which is warmed just sufficiently to incorporate the asphalt with
the ink. The plate is next placed in a bath of acid (its back and
■other parts, where the acid is not required to act, being protected
by varnish), in order that the unprotected parts, or those which
arc to form the whites of the finished picture, may be dissolved
away. In order to prevent the acid eating not only straight down
into the plate but on the sides of the furrows it forms, and thus
undermining them, an ingenious device has been adopted. As soon
as the etching has proceeded to a very slight depth, the plate is
removed from the bath, washed, and heated. The ink and other
protective medium are thus melted and run down the sides of the
little furrows formed by the acids and thereby protect them from
further action. Inking and dusting with resinous material are
repeated, and etching resumed, until the depressions of the block
have been brought to the proper depth. The etching is carried on
in troughs to which a rocking motion is given, so that the acid
flows to and fro in waves over the surface, and little bubbles of gas,
&c., are carried away. Where large spaces of white occur, the metal
is cleared away by a drill ; after the block has been mounted type
high, it is ready for the printer.
ToEO ' , This process is only available for the productioaof " line blocks,"
block.:. ' ;■ e. , those in which the original drawing is done in lines or dots,
■ '.'5 for an ordinary woodcut. The highest achievement of process
I locks . has been the production of tcyiie blocks, which may be
made direct from oU-paintiugs, water-colours, photographs, draw-
ings in chalk, wash, pencil, &c., or indeed from anytning from
which a photographic negative -can be taken. The exact nature
of the processes is a trade secret, but the rationale is given in
Mr Truman Wood's Modern Methods of Ilhistraling £ooks (honion,
1887), to which wo are indebted for the following details. The
problem is to translate, as it were, the light and shade of the
negative into solid outlines of black and white. The shades must
be lines of various breadths or of various distances apart, or spots
or grain of various degrees of fineness or closeness. In a surface-
block any part that touches the paper prints, and any part that
does not touch, the paper does not leave any mark at all._ The
photographic image is continuous ; there are no outlines in it, the
picture being formed of graduated tints or shades, ranging from
the white of the paper up to the darkest colour that the process
employed can give. To make a block for letter-press printing the
graduated tints of the photograph have to be broken up into stipple
T grain, and it must be a stipple closest in the .shadows, gradually
occoraing more open through the range of the intermediate tones,
and vanishing altogether in the highest lights. To describe the
ingenious methods adopted to secure this end would involve an
account of several photographic operations which would be out of
place here. In one process, perfected by Meisenbach of Munich in
1882, grained negatives are produced by placing a transparent
screen, on which a suitable grain is imprinted, in contact with the
negative or the positive to be copied, and then photographing the
two together. The negative is transferred to a plate of suitable
material, which is graved or etched in the usual manner, to form
a typogiapTiic block. Another device is to print from the original
negative upon a piece of silk, the threads of which break up the
picture into a regular grain. The positive on the silk is then
pholoTraphed and a printing block made. These blocks require
from their very low relief delicate and careful printing, but are
made to give excellent results.
Vypo- *■ A process of typographic etching has been invented by Messrs
graphic Dawson, in which the design is drawn with an etching needle on a
etchiog. brass plate covered with a wax etching ground, in the same manner
as for an ordinary etching. The metal is therefor* bared at the lines,
which are separated by ridges and spaces of wax. These spaces are
strengthened by the addition of melted wax, which nms no to
the edges of the lines, but docs not run over on to them as might
be expected, filling tliem up. Tlie supply is continued until the
spaces between the lines, roiirescnting the whites of the finished
print, have been raised to a height sulficieiit to give the necessary
relief, when an electrotyiie is taken. This electrotype forms ttc
fuinting surface.
Shanks's process is a device for producing pictures simply by the Shanks'*
use of mechanism, and is an application of the eidograph. The procett.
plate to be drawn upon is moved under the drawing implement,
which is a rapidly revolving cutter, and the plate on its carrier ia
mounted on the end of a series of levers in the same Avay as the
slide rest of a latne, so as to h.ive motion in two directions, one at
right angles to tho other, and consequently by a combination of
the two to have motion in any direction in the same plane. If a
plate of a suitable substance, such as hardened plaster of Paris, bo
mounted on the carrier, and the bracing point at the other end of
the lever be moved over the lines of a drawing, the cutter will
plough a little furrow, which will follow these lines. When the
plate is finished, a stereotype is taken from it and forms the print-
ing surface. The lines of the casts are remarkably strong owing
to the conformation of the furrow of the mould, and they can be
printed on fast rotary machines, Tho weather charts given in
some newspapers are produced by this process. A block « ith tho
recurring outlines being made, plates are moulded from it, so that
the details alone have to be separately cut upon future plates. Mr
Shanks's method is remarkably simple and expeditious, and the
results are economical and trustworthy.
Press Work aiwl Presses.
The characteristic of printing, as already pointed out, is that
the pigment — the ink — with which the printing surface of the type .
is coated is transferred to the paper or other material by pressure.
The manner in which this pressure is exerted gives rise to two
classes of machinery, — those in wliich the platen and the cylinder
respectively are employed. After the paper is placed on the type, ,
ill the one case a flat plate of iron moves parallel to the forme and
comes in contact with it, causing the impression on the paper,
while in the other case a cylinder revolves over the surface, wnicU
travels in gearing with the cylinder.
Space does not permit of any sketch, however slight, of the
origin and progress of type-printing machinery. We can only
refer to what may be regarded as representative applian'ces in
present use. In America all kinds of apparatus for printing are
called "presses"; in England, however, an appliance of a more
automatic character than the hand-press is usually called "a
machine." As the hand -press is now almost obsolete, this dis-
tinction will probably be abandoned, and the shorter and more
expressive word "press^' be* applied to all. Venturing to adopt
this suggestion, we may say that of platen presses there are the
hand-press, the treadle platen press, and the steam or other power-
driven press.
Fig. 10 is a view of the Albion press. It is wholly of iron and Hand-
steel. Although this press is nearly superseded, it is desirable ]
to point out its component parts, as they indicate the general
principles on which all typographic machinery is based. "The flat
plane on which the type is laid is called the bed of the press ;
the other fiat plane which moves vertically and presses the paper
on the type is the platen. These are the two essential parts of
the press. The platen is perfectly smooth and level on its under
surface, in order to give the whole of the type forme an equable
pressure. It is mounted in a strong iron frame, with a cross-
piece or head. The platen is propelled by a piston, which moves
up and down. The power is gained by bringing an inclined bar
of steel perpendicular to the direct line of pressure, and in doin»
so the piston is forced down. This steel bar is the chill, shaped
like an elbow. At one end is a bar or handle which, on being
pulled towards the operator, straightens the chill or brings it into
the vertical position. At the sides are guide-plates fixed into the
frame, to preserve the parallelism of the platen, for the slightest
vibration or lateral movement would prevent a clear sharp im-
pression being t.aken. There arc appropriate appliances, such as a
hclic.ll spring, fixed on the head of the press, whereby the platen
raises itself when the pressure is not required. In order to bring
the forme readily under the platen, and to withdraw it so that it
may be inked and the sheet to be printed placed in position, the
table is mounted on a carriage, that runs on two rails by turning
a handle connected with two endless bands. The paper is fixed to
certain marks on the tympan, a kind of mctil frame hinged on to
the carriage, when it is in a sloping position. This ensures tho
paper being printed in the exact place reijuired. The tympan,
over which calico or parchment is stretched, is double, and contains
within it e pad of paper or a piece of blanket, to moderate the force
of the impression of the platen. To it is hinged another metal j
frame, the frisket, which is covered with paper, cut to correspond
with the shape of the type forme on the press. The ink is applied
with a cylinder or roller, which revolves in an iron frame , and is ,
PRACTICAL.]
TYPOGRAPHY
705
covered abont an inch thick with a composition of glue and treacle
«r t>f glycerin or otiier substance. The ink is spread out with a
palette knife or similar appliauce ou a table
adjoiuiug the press, and by repeatedly re-
volving the roller over it, it becomes coated
with an extremely tliin film of ink.
The roller is then moved over the
surface of the forme on the press,
until sufficient ink has been trans-
ferred to it. This is called rolluu;,
and is a very important part of
■ press-work, for if inefficiently per-
lormed there will be
too much ink on
Treadl.
jiUteu
press-
— AlUiou pr
, the impres.
I sion, or even
blotches, which
_^ aie called monks, or the
■ ■ print will be too pale or
^^' grey in places, such im-
^^ perfections being caUed
-~- friars. The sheet of
'^_ paper to be printed is
y-_ next laid on the tym-
pan, to pins serving as
,(■11 J J - , guides. The frisket is
folded down on the tyinpan, which is in turn folded down on the
forme with the right hand.ivhile with the left the handle is turned
and the pr^ carnage brought under the platen. The bar is nulled
by the right hand, the handle turned the reverse way with the
left hand, the carriage brought out again, the tvmpan raised, the
fnsket opened, and the pnnted sheet removed, the tympan beius
ready to receive another white sheet. The frisket serves, amon^
other thinp to keep the edges and parts of the sheet not required
to be pnnted from being discoloured by contact with the ink or
the sides of the fonne, and to aid in steadying the sheet when the
tympan is depressed and in the removal of the sheet when it is
raised. Such is a bare outline of the method of printing at a
hand-press, -one necessarily imperfect from a technical point of
■view, but sufficient to indicate the essentials of the operatioa
Another press which has been much used is the Columbian —a
name given to it by its inventor, Clvmer, an American The
power IS gained by an ingenious combination of levers. Two of
1 Wr" ^^""^^'^ ^y "■- "t^T''^ the bar handle, which is in itself
a lever The platen is attached to the head by a stron" iron bolt
the descent being made steady and regular by vertical euides It
IS counterbalanced by a po«-erful lever or be^m, having an adius -
able weight shaped like an eagle, which raises it aufomatVcilTy
In the bar handle is a screw stop by means of which the length of
toly'reguIaLl" -"""^ '"'' "' ^'^''^''- "' *''^ ""«" I«^
fn'^rin'f*!,''"''^ ^"S'^^'T ""^^ ">"' *" ^^ g""'' "-rough in order
to pnntfine side of a sheet of paper at a hanJ-press :-(l) i„Ii,r,e
the roller, (2) mking the fonne, (3) laying the sheet on the ympa^^
nlLen rfif t r° ^,^' --'"P'"; (5) running in the forme underT
imL.%iV.u\T,^ the impression by depressing the platen, and then
immeJiately afterwards allowing if to raise itself by means of the
counterpoise or spnng, (7) running out the forme, (8) liftin» the
tympan and fnsket. and (9) removing the sheet The oMect of
successive improvers of tlie printing press has been to render the
apparatus more automatic, or to substitute for it a "machine"
that will reduce these nine operations to the minimum In modern
machines this has been effected to the extent of rendering necesslr^
only three of them-(l) laying on or "feeding" thefheets^?
applying the motive power, (3) taking off or delivering the sheets ■
ZLT"^ ^''^'"'^^ ^?\f'''^ ^nd deliver theinfelves auto:
TOatically. Nearly all cylinder machines have a delivery apparatus
«nd quite recently an appliance for the automatic feedUig to them
of single sheets of paper has been invented
^„^KI. /f f,P^^' ^•*'" f'^*"" P'''^^ "■« "<>'''=« first that which is
^tf Aw'°? "^"o™" ^y » "'^""g «''^f^ '" "Iieel It should be
<hf JI"^, ""^^ t^e adoption of the rotatory principle was e^en Va! to
the acceleration of speed. This was reco^ized fey the proiector of
the machine' press, William Nicholson, and by FrederfckToeni"
who first brought the invention into use and constructed a p7act"cri
-Wiii''?i "S?',*"*^""^ °' ■*' Invention is coatiioed in a serifs of artirV= hv m,
*■ FroK J/teanijw (PirinsSo) Schmidt, F. K<xnig e( VJr.vcnIion dr
press. The essential arrangements of every machine are four, their
respective objects being (1) to feed in the paper, (2) to ink tile
forme, (3) to pnnt the sheet, and (4) to deliver or take it off.
I he treadle platen press is the simplest of machine presses capable
of being worked by a wheel. M'hcn other motive power iinot
available it is dnven by a treadle, like that of a lathe. The t^■pe
forme IS usually secured by clamps on an almost vertical bed (fig 11)
and the platen rocks backwards and forwards, being thus brousht
m contact with the type — ^
on the bed. .Just before
the impression is taken,
the two surfaces are mo
mentarily parallel The
inking is effected by small
composition rollers, ad
justed in a roller carrier
swinging on a pivot. The
rollers receive ink from
a "fountain" or duct of
ink at the top of the
machine, below- which is
an arrangement, such as _ _^^,^_
a revolving disk, for dis- ,' "s^Ss^-iii
tributing the ink The ^^^^^SSl^tI^ _
constant motion of the H'= ii -.ifiiierv.i press
rollers and of the revolving ink disk is equivalent to the manual
movements of tlie operator who "rolls "at the hand-press. The •
rollers are earned by self-acting appliances over the face of the
fonne, and return to the ink table to be replenished with ink,
after which the impression takes place. The sheet to be printed
IS placed in proper position on the platen, which is covered
with paper or parchment, and is secured there during the move
ment of the platen by movable fingers called grippcrs. The
platen on advancing brings the paper in contact with the type
lorme, after the printing it returns to its original position
when the sheet is removed and another sheet adjusted ready for
being pnnted The treadle platen press is only adapted for
«-ork on paper of small size, up to half sheet demy, but within
this limit It IS greatly superior to the hand-press, if sufficiently
strong and well built, it gives a far more powerful impression and
it occupies about a sixth of the space. Its great merit, however
is Its supenor speed The hand-piess, when worked by two men
one rolling the types and one pulling the handle of the press!
produces only about 250 impressions per hour The treadle press
13 worked by a boy, who has only to depress the treadle with his
foot, and lay on and take off the sheets with his hands, and he
can work at the late of more than 1000 per hour. The treadle
press 13 also superior to the hand-press in the uniformity of its
results, since the automatic inking ensures a greater regularity in
the colour of the impressions than m ith the old hand-inking process.
The ordinary or "double" platen press was, in principle, very DonbU
similar to the hand-press. It was aboutlS feet long. The platen platco
m the centre, was massive, as the machine printed sheets as large press
as double demy, and it had a perpendicular motion, being guided
in grooves and worked by a connecting rod fixed to a cross beam
and crank, which acquired its motion from the main shaft In other
respects the machine differed from the hand-press in having two
type beds or coffins an.l two inking tables arranged at the ends of
the carnage, winch travelled backw.iids and forwards, being worked
by a drum underneath The paper to be pnnted was laid to marks
on the frisket, and this was hinged on the tympan, which in turn
was fastened to the end of the coffin by hinges'or joints The frisket
and tympan were opened by ninning up bars at suitable positions.
After a newly printed sheet was removed, another was placed on
the frisket, which as the carriage moved ran down the bars and
closed on the slieet. wliich then received its impression This
arrangement was dangerous to the boys who had to lay on the
sheets.
Formerly it was thought that the very finest printing could not
be done by a cylinder impressing a forme in the progress of its re-
ciprocating motion, for that was liable to slur or blur the im-
pre-ssion. Hence platen presses were employed for the best work
or recent years engineers have brought the cylindei press to such
perfection that there is not the slightest danger, under the super-
intendence of a capable man, of any slur Working quite as well
as the platen press, the cylinder press is enormously qui,:kei and
more productive ; it requires less driving power ; and much better
inking IS obtained, which is all-import.int for fine woodcut print-
ing. Accordingly, for even the best illustrated book-work, tho
platen power-press is now almost entirely superseded by the
cylinder. ^
Cylinder machines are of two kinds,— (1) presses in which the
type IS on a flat plane and (2) those in which the type, or mors
correctly the impressing surface, is cylindrical. Tlie fir^t are called
ajlmdcr presses, the second— a development of the first— the rotaru
web .presses '
The simplest kind of mechanical press is called, the single-
\XIII. — 8g
706
TYPOGRAPHY
[PBACTICAL,
Sincle- cylinder or one-sided machine, which has been recently hroiight
cylindei to the highest state of perfection by Mr Samuel Bremncr. It is
DMsa. eenerally used for commercial and fine book -work on one side
of the paper. There are dilferent varieties of cylinder machines,
distinguished by trade-marks or the names of their makers ; but
the general principles, apart from details, are practically identical.
There is a strong cast-iron frame, with bearings to carry the cylinder,
which runs across the machine transversely, nearly in the centre
The cylinder revolves by • ''
gearing connecled with a
main shaft, which also
works the other moving
parts This shaft is turned
by a wheel for hand
or steam power.
The table
for
upon the tympan and folding it down on the fonpa are supersede-X
by the presentation of the paper to the grippers ; and the taking-otT
of the sheet after raising the tympan is superseded by removing it
when released by the grippers and laying it on the adjacent table, —
both immeasurably easier operations and done much more rapidly.
Indeed both laying-on and takingoff may be done automatically,
as is explained below. The result is that, while two men are rc-
Quired to print a sheet of book- work on one side of the paper at
' ' the speed of 2M
an hour at the
hand-press, ma-
chines of this
class worked by-
one operator
print about 1200
per hour. Even
Fig 12 -Extra colour BreuiDer marlniie. with sheet-flyers.
carrMDg the type is also provided with a flat inking board of «oo.l
or iron, used for distributing the ink. It travels backwards and
forwards, that is, with a reciprocating motion. At one end ol the
machine is thefecding-'ioard, on which the pile of paper to be printed
is placed. The layer-on places each sheet against metal marks, con
sisting of rectangular pii-ces of steel or brass mounted on a bar under
neath which rises and falls according as the sheet is being laid to
and taken away from them. When placed against these marks, en_
suring correct " lay," the sheet is seized by grippers or light meUl
claws fixed on a bar inside the cylinder These clutch the sheet
and carry it forward round the cylinder, which m its revolution
brings it forcibly in contact with the type forme moving forward
underneath, when the impression is effected Immediately after
the grippers release their hold, and the sheets are remofed singly
by an attendant called a taker of, or by a mechanical automatic
arrangement called a pjer, and deposited on the taking olT board
At the end of the machine farthest from the laymgon boac* is
fixed a trough, which conUins the ink ; it is fitted with the dMl
Tuller of cast-iron, which revolves by means of a band ot ratchet-
wheel and pawl A flat bar or knife with a lliiu edge is set up
against the metal roller lengthways by adjusting screws, whuh
regulate the passage of the ink, and permit a thiu film to pass the
knife A composition roller, called a vibrator, is fixed underneath,
which takes off the ink that has already been deposited on the duct
roller and leaves a ridge or strip of it on the inking slab. As the
carriage retuins, this strip of ink is distributed on the inking
table bv rollers placed diagonally across the machine. The diagonal
position gives them a waving motion ; hence they are called wavers
The inking of the for")e is done by another set of rollers called
inkcia, placed near the impression cylinder The inking rollers
receive their ink from whnt is distributed on (h-) table and coat the
type while it is passing underneath fhem.
Thus the nine operations of the hand press requisite to print one
impression are greatly reduced The bed carrying the type to and
fio from the point of impression moves mechanically, superseding
•vrin<ler the running in and out of the carriage by (he ronnce and handle
mnchiue of the hand-press. The inking Uble, although independent, forms
part of the type table, and some of the roUers aistribute and others
ink, this again being done mechanically and without a second
operator Tlie platen and the tympan, as well as the levers by
which the impression is given, are in effect combined in the
cylinder, which rotates by gearing, the pressure being applied
during the motion of the table itself The laying-on of thS sheet
convey a com-
plete idea of
the enonnously in-
creased productive-
ness of the cylin-
der machine
, ,; , over that of
Iff^' the press. By
'^i.J ^ the latter, the
,/ j,^ ' largest sheet pr»c-
jfly tically that could b»
''r / printed was double
demy, 23 x 35 inches, the
' superficies of which is 805
square inches, single cylinder
njacbines are now made to print
eight sheet double crown, the
^■i^ superficies of which is 4S00 square
inches. These sheets being afterwards
cut up into double crown sheets, the pro-
Advaii
Inpes of
iingli
5ver
haud.
presses
ductiveness of the machine to the press would be, per hour, about
6000 to 250.
As already mentioned, a self-acting feeding apparatus has been
invented for supplying single sheets to cylinder machines. The
pile of paper is laid on a feeding board or table, between gauges.
A pneumatic tube takes up one sheet at a time ; it is then run
down tapes to a point at which india-rubber fingers bring it to the
side lay of the machine, and it is printed with perfect accuracy of
register. Once started, the machine works automatically, and the
services of both layer-on and taker-ofi are dispensed with.
We may now describe that class of machines by which the paper perfect-
is printed on both sides, or perfected, during one passage through mg
the machine. The Applegath and Cowper or ordinary machine presses.
has two impression cylinders, having a continuous rotary motion
towards each other. The frame is necessarily long, usually about
15 feet, and the width of the machine about 5 feet, these dimension*
depending upon the size of the sheet to be printed. The table oi
carriage is double, containing two beds fo: the two formes of type,
to impress the two sides of the paper, and two distributing tables
for the ink. At each end is a complete roller apparatus, consisting
of duct, duct roller, vibrator, and wavers. Close to the large
cylinders on each side are the inkiug rollers The table has a
reciprocating motion, as in a single-cylinder machine. The dis.
tinctive feature is the ingenious manner in which the sheets are
printed first on one side and then on the other This is effected
by carrying them over cylinders and drums by means of tapes.
The pile of sheets stands on a high table placed at one end.
The sheet is fed into the apparatus and led round an entry drum ;
thence it is carried round the large right-hand impressing cylinder,
and underneath this, on the table, which is moving at the samo
speed as the cylinder, is the inner forme properly inked. Ihe
paper thus receives an im[.ression on one side. It is next led up
to the right hand drum, which it passes over, the printed side of
the sheet being then downwards. Continuing, it is brought under
the second or left.hand drum and on to the left-hand impression
cylinder, which it passes with the printed side stiU downwards, or
next to the cylinder, exposing the other side to the type ot the
outer forme on the table underneath. The drums have thus re-
versed the position of the paper : the side which was outside when
passing the first forme is inside when passing the second forme,
which accordingly prints the sheet on tlie opposite or blank side.
The sheet is finally run out by the tapes and delivered in the space
between the large cylinders, seized bv a taking-off boy, anH deposited
i
PRACTICAL.]
TYPOGRAPHY
707
Hour;
press.
on a table or laking-oflT boanl. This press is known as the drop-
bar pcr/tcting nxachitu, owing to a peculiarity of the arrangement
by which the paper is conveyed into the tapes. In front of the
feeding table is a rod or bar of steel, along which are fitted several
metal disks or bosses .ibout half an inch thicker than the bar itself.
These can be sliifted, by means of small screws, to any position
along the rod to suit the size of the sheet to be printed.
To this bar is fixed a short arm, with a pulley at
, the enJ, which works round a wheel attached
-^' to a cam with a dip. Every time the
-SS--., pulley drops into the dip, the bar de-
^ scends upon the paper, which is laid
ir£i=»_J* marks at the front ; and the
possessing a rotary mo-
1 from the tapes, runs
sheet between a roller
and a small diiim on to the inner forme cylinder, as aiready stated.
Other kinds of machines are distinguished as the web, having a
web or a series of broad tapes which lie on the laying-on board and
are fastened to a small drum underneath it. The drum has a series
of small cogs, and when it is forced forward it moves the web or
tapes in the same direction. The sheet, having been laid to a
back mark on the tapes, is propelled between
two revolving rollers and thus taken into tlie
machine. ^^P^'^v^\^Bt'
There are several distinct types of per-
fecting presses in use, but we can only ^^assigifi!
notice one or two. In the Ai.;Ij- ' ^^iw^^i
Fic. 13.— MariDOnl combined perfecting; and duplex aingle-cylir.der niaeliiae.
the intermediate drums for conveying the sheet from one cylinder
to the other. The cylinders are on a level, but alternately rise and
■all, allowing the sheet to clear the forme. Quite recently a single-
Jylinder perfecting press has been invented. The cylinder is double
'.he usual size and has two printing surfaces and a double set of
jrippers. Two sheets are printed at each revolution, the first being
the white paper and the second the partly printed sheet which hag
immediately preceded it. The sheet is fed in as to an ordinary single
side press, printed on one side, taken off, reversed, again gripped,
and perfected, when it is automatically delivered on the table.
It has been mentioned that
250 sheets or a token per hour,
printed on one. side only, re-
present the work of two men at
the hand-press. Two youths
at a perfecting machine will
complete from 1200 to
2000 copies per hour, ,.-'**
equal to 4000 im-
pressions on
one side only, — an increase of about sixteenfold. This, however,
does not represent the whole of the superiority of these machines.
Sheets mnch larger than double crown (20 x 30 inches) can hardly
be worked at a pre-ss ; the machine perfects a sheet nearly double
this size — 50 x 40 or four royal, so that the proportionate product
of the machine to the press is about as 32 to 1.
Perfecting machines are not so much used for book-work as
formerly. The single-cylinder machine has been brought to such
perfection, and is so superior in its inking arrangements, that
printers prefer it In America nearly all machines are one-sided.
For newspapers of limited circulation, however, the perfectin^^
machine is well adapted. Complete copies of a journal are produced
as soon as the machine is started ; extra
copies can be worked off while news-
agents are waiting ; and a number of
sheets need not be printed off on
one side to be completed when
a sudden demand arises.
Fi". 13 shows a new form
of French perfecting
machine for printing
book - work, the
Marinoni
Fio. 14. — Walter machine.
bined perfecting and duplex single-cylinder machine. The improve-
ment in this machine over the perfecting two-cylinder machine de-
scribed above conisists in the alteration of some mechanical parts, so
that the same machine can be used for printing sheets either on
both sides or on one side only. It therefore serves the purpose of
two single - cylinder machines or of one perfecting machine, the
change from one to the other being very simple.
The rotary press differs essentially from the cylinder machine.
Ill the former the printing surface and the" impressing surface both
rotate continuously, and the paper, — not cut up into single sheets,
but carried between the two cylinders in a roll or web, like a ribbon,
— receives successively an impression on eactl side, after which it is
cut up into sheets of the proper size and folded as it is run out, the
sheets being deposited on a table ready for removal.
As representative of this cl.iss of machines we may take the W«lt*r
Walter press, whose mechanical aminge»ent is shown in fig. |
14. The paper to be printed from, a continuous web about SOOO
yards in length, is wound on a small roller at P. It is passed over
a tension roller, and then over the damping cylinders W, W,
and thoroughly wetted on both sides. The damping cylinders are
hollow, and contain sponses from which the water is distributed by
centrifugal force, the outside of the cyliuder being covered with
708
TYPOGRAPHY
[PKACTICAI-
Printing
from
webs of
.paper
SJoUer
composi
•tiofk.
Wankcts The paper next passes on to the printing cylinders
r r on wl'ich the printing surface-not composed of movab e
i' i w of Stereo tilate»-is fixed, and to the impression cylmders
T? The printing cyl^ers contain each the plat, in curnlinear
shape constFtuting the forme for one side of the paper. The web
Is kd between the printing and the impression cylinders as shown
liv the dotted line After being printed on one side by T, it
l^aveh round /and receives an impression on tlie other side from
r thus being " perfected." It then passes on to the cutting
cylinders K K one of which has a serrated knife which enters
1^e caper and oa the application of tension divides the web
causi^ng^the peculiar saw lite edge seen in ™pies.of journals pnncd
on rota°,7 mrchines. The paper is ""t earned .n "'^ ^P^^j^^'^J
„„;„» vri^fTp the como ete severance takes place, boon alter iney
.LTountr"a peUuZs frame, which, <leu'vers them in two piles
on to the tables x x, whence they are removed. There is an nK
supply troi^ih a wMh is connected with the distributing rollers
bv a revofencr metal roller b. The distributing rallers of metal
ar'^^ marked f.l h. i, and the rollers which ink the forme, made of
•Ihe ordinary composition, are marked *, A". .„„„„ t
The averLe rate of speed of the Walter press is 12,000 per hour,
•tl-c sheels being printeLn both sides. In this apparatus every-
h ng au mftfc: there is self-feeding and selfdelivery the web
of pfper at one end being transformed into properly pnu- d single
sheeti at the other. The machine requires only one man to super-
tntend its general working, including the replaon" of the web
when printed and the removal of the successive piles of sheets,
rnresp'^t of speed, if the nerfecting machine is to the hand pres
as 3" to 1 the rotary will be to the hand press as 96 to 1 The
Walter press requiring a space of only about U feet by .5, is not
more remarkable'for itl speed and economy than for its s>mpl'c 'y
.of construction and its compactness. And the same remark app les
?o several other machines, such as the Victory the Hoe, and th»
Prestonian, which have since come into use. Their g^n"^' H'^ar
Ince is that of a collection of small cylinders or rollers through
which the paper seems to fly at railway spce-d >=f">"g f"^'^ '° '"^
<iescendine torrents of sheets accurately cut into lengths. W ithout
such machinery the prodigious issues of some of the morning
journals would not be possible. One daily P^per averages a cir^u
ation of more than a quarter of a mUUon This enormous Dumbe
of sheets are printed in about four hours, owing to the type matter
being stereotyped and placed on several presses. „„v„n„
Printing from webs of paper instead of single sheets will probably
he adopted in the future for all newsnapers and even bcoVs of large
circulation Hand-feeding is limitei by the ah.hty of the operator
to lay the sheets on the feeding board with the ne. essarj' accuracy
One chief obstacle to the more general adopnon of roUrv pnntiog
is the expense of stereotyping the tj-pe formes. Although a
Machine has been constructed m whuh "'"'''"}' ^P^'^Jn,
placed ronnd the periphery of an impressing cylinder it ennot
compete with the Walter and other presses using st<.reo pUtes. 1 he
problem of printing directly from flat formes of ordinary types, as
Ull as from stereotypes, with paper supplied in the mil, is one
■that may be commended to engineers. The saving in sterfcijping
in many cases would be very considerable but. ^"7 "';'''; '^f,,'!
not an object, the readiness and ease with whi.h the type could
be manipulated would ensure for such an apparatus admission into
offices wWre the large rotaries of the present day are inadmissible.
It would also enable illustrated journals to be printed from the
web The pictures introduced into some of our daily journals are
vcrv rude when compared with those in periodicals printed on Bat-
hed machines This is owing partly to the distortion that arises
when the cast from a flat block is accommodated to a curved sur
face, partly to the fact that stereotyping docs not give the fine and
delicate reproduction that elcctrotyping supplies, and partly to the
imperfect inking powers of the machines. Quite recently a plan
has been patented whereby curved electrotypes of pictures can
be fastened to blank or depressed portions of an ordinary curved
stereo plate , but the method is not always practicable. With a
flat-bed machine the forme to be printed from might be ol a com-
posite kind.-partly movable types, partly stereotype, nnd partly
electrotype. One difficulty of constructing a web printing machine
with a flat bed is that of tm-ning the sheet so that it may be printed
almost simultaneously on hoth sides. It would have to be reversed
by the continued rotary movement of the cylinder. This, however,
i.s quite mthin the limits of practicability, and experiments are
DOW being made to devise a machine with this feature.
For about three centuries after the invention of printing the
formes were inked by leather balls. When machine presses were
introduced, their eariiest inventor tried to use cylinders covered
with leather ; but the plan was most unsatisfactory, until a subse-
qncnt inventor adopted a composition of glue and treacle, which
was cast into cylinders having an inner "stock " of metal or wood.
For about half a century this composition was used exclusively lor
both hand and machine presses Since then glyccnn has been in-
troduced for roller making. Hansard's recipe, in use when the
Sth edition of the present work was issued, was— glue 4 parts.
treaclo 12 parts, Paris white 1 part. But a much better composi-
ton snow^ormed of glue 10 I'.arts, sugar 10 paits, and glycenn
19 parts The glycerin has the property of always keeping the
roller moist and soft, while the tendency of glue and treacle is to
dry and harden. A glycerin roller lasts much longer than one of
^' Prfntin^ rk has peculiar quJities. It is required to change from QvaliUes
the of adhesive st^tc in wllich it is applied to the type to tha ofol pmt-
a perfectly tard and dry substance after being transferred to the ing mk.
naiier This change of condition must be under control, and when
Lis excluded the ink .hould keep in good order any length of
time During its application to the type its solidification should
be as slow as possible, and unaccompanied by the emission of any
unpwLt or^leleterious odour. It ought not to atTcct the roUers
unp easant or aeieterious ouo.u. il uug..,. ..;.. ", .jVr^Aiw,
an5, having been applied to the paper its action should be confined
to a very slight penetration, just sufficient to prevent it^ detach
mcnt «i^thou°t injVin^ the si/rface of the paper. , I' ™"^' d'-y,'°'°
a hard, inodorous. anS unalterable solid The ingredients of ink
are burnt linseed or other oil. resin and occasionally soaf. rath ^
various colouring matters ; that for black ink is usually lauop black, ,
but charcoal and other cheaper materials are occasionally ntroduced_
Ink is removed from types ind blocks by detergents, such as potash
and pearl ash . ben ? me is also well adapted for the purpose.
Colour Prirding
The apparatus previously described is intended for monochrome Pruning
prin n'^^h" evef be the shade of the ink. When two colours or lu two
lor, h^ave to be prir.ted in one composition, there must be a • olo.ir^
Separate type forme or separate engraving, and a separate prin ing,
?or each " kany attempts have been made to print several co ours
simuUanecuslv by dividing the trough or manipulating the rollei^
AU these have-been more or less unsuccessful, « ith the exception of a
press invented by Mr W Conisbee, which prints f,om type orrnes
fn wo colours. In construction it .s somewhat ^'t'" " « '^J
ordinary single cylinder machine, but is provided »i h two .e^ o
°nk D- appaVatus, including duclor, wavers and inkers, each o
which" acts totally independent of the rest. The cy linder is placed
Tn the cen re of the machine and makes two continuous revolutions,
riring an impression for each colour There are two type forme^
fach ?ontaii.ing only the lines to be woiked in one of the colours,
These are in two beds adjoining one another and. the -Mrcumference
of the cylinder being equal to the length of one bed. one colour is
nrinted by the first revolution and the other by the second The
she" U« th^u printed twice without being released from the grippers
Aereby perf^ect register is ensured The speed is slow, averaguig
<inn tn 400 conjrltte impressions per hour
^°The mV.hod^l^y whicf the beau'tiful coloured f PPl^'^;"'« '^^"'.^ f^
occasionally w„h illustrated newspapers are printed ^y be ^''8"'> 'I^.
referred to A copy of the artist's painting is first of »" 'I'ade. on graphy
a cale regulated by the size of the reproduction. This being sup.
pi do Me engraver, an outline or key block is ■"ad. and proofs
pulled It is now necessary to determine the 'on^^ "f /■»>«" ''^
Ce used -a process demanding great experience The key block
will If printe^d first, alTord a guide for the registration «' the subse
nuent printings ; sometimes, however, that is reserved for a lat*.
s^e The colours on which the subsequerit printings are done
m^? be of a transparent nature. The Mocks are sometimes pro
duced by the tvpographic etching process, which gives a softness,
deU cy nd Variety unattainabfe by th. graver The blending
0 the colours is thi most delicate task the printer b-s to under
take A large pii-ture is often printed in ten or more workings,
orae of them in their turn intensifying and bringing previous
co"ou. workings into stronger relief, others giving shape and form
othe picture^ Almost to the end of the process however, th
picture will want vitality . its outlines will be hard and bare or
^ague and undefined, according to the sequence "^e colours^
Another working may give grey tones where wan ed and may
increase the depth and transparency of various parts A deep
S workmg Jay have a marked etfect on the de.eloptnent and
near the rioje of the series, if the entire colouring is found to K
too warm, it may be corrected by oyer printing very nearly th
whole subject. Chromo-typography b^s undoubedyude great
strides durina the past twenty years, its best results bong shown
in the colourfd prints for illustJated journals. For the production
of pk'u?s for commercial and artistic purposes chromo-lithography .liremo
?= Generally resorted to on account of its relative economy- In hlho-
mKrphy for typographic purposes the line has to be cut ai.d the ,^aphy
pace'Tboth sides^eioved s^' as to leave '^^ line alone to b
charged with the ink, or the white space has to be ■^'fl'^d a«av with
an acid The printing of isolated points too is easily effected from
a stone wiere£ most minute labour is "ocessary to engi^ them
TvnoOTanhic etching has here, however, been of great aS!.istanoc^
^IdTKces of printing surface caused by the colours are me^
and overcome by the lithogranhic s one with f/^t facility even
when the spaces are largest an& most ""'=;'•" ■'♦,'^,'1"' I 'J^^.Z
trarv in regard to typography, wherein the work has to lie cnargea
w-UlUnktS a greater extent 'according to its size, and tho ijaantitv
PRACTICAL.
TYPOGRAPHY
709
Progress
in print-
Improre-
meats in
news-
paper
prmting;
. type.
of ink requisite varies with the fineness of the strokes and of their
distance apart. Owing to this we see in most letter-press poly-
cliromatic prints a deficiency of transparency, of half-tints, of depth
of ground, and of general harmony. Even if it were possible to
make chromo- typography as easy as chromo . lithography, there
would still be the obstacle of its very much greater cost, owing to
the expense of the engraving and of the casts from the key block.
In chrorao-lithography the designer can repeat the designs for the
different stones by a process that costs almost nothing. Also in the
process of multiplying the blocks the deviation in the register of
the successive colours is practically unavoidable. In lithography
the surface to he printed is nearly level ; hence the sheet is not
shifted and twisted or stretched in places, as it is in typography,
owing to the alternate closeness and absence of contact between the
sheets and the raised and depressed surface of the block. Whatever
success the letter-press method has attained of late is owing to the
invention of electrotyping and process blocks, and to the improve-
ment of machinery. Kor to print these pictures enormous strength
md rigidity, and the most i)erfect arrangements for securing register.
«re absolutely essential
Reecnl C/ianja
We will now give a cursory glance at the changes that have
been effected during the last twenty-five years in the processes and
the products of the art of printing. That these have been of a
most drastic kind may be gathered from a comparison of the
appliances figured and described in the Sth or the previous edi-
tions of the Enajclopxdia Britannica with those referred to above.
The hand press has been almost completely superseded by the
machine press. Cylindrical impression has displaced platen impres-
sion, and the finest book work and *oodcut work are done on a
cylinder press In book-work, indeed, other significant changes have
taken place. Whereas formerly it was deemed csseutial that the
papei should be damped before printing, in order to get a delicate
and perfect impression, some of the finest books and periodicals are
uow printed on dry paper, highly calendered, even the illustrated
journals and some of tlie evening papeis being so worked. Then,
it was thought necessary for the saftity of the type to interpose a
thick soft blanket between it and the pressing surface, whether
cylinder or platen ; now, it is found equally safe, and far more
conducive to a good impression, to make the packing as thin and
hard as possible. Then, fine woodcuts were "bronght up" by the
use of many "overlays" and "underlays" to correct inequalities in
the 5Ui faca of the blocks and emphasize some of the parts ; now,
although the art of "making ready" has been brought to great
perfection, the fewer and thinner the overlays employed the better.
And It may not be irrelevant to point out that the printing of wood-
cuts has improved in the same degree as the engraving of them.
Perhaps, however, the most remarkable change is that made in
newspaper printing. The highest achievement mentioned in the
article "Printing" in the Sth edition of this work was the six-
cylinder Hoe machine. The makere of that apparatus subsequently
contrived machines of eight and ten cylinders. But they have now
been wholly superseded by the rotary presses on the Walter principle.
The hand feeding-in of single sheets is entirely done away with, and
all newspapers of considerable circulation are printed from long reels
of paper,uncut, as originally made at the paper-milL The maxi-
mum number of copies which a machine of this class would print
with ten feeding attendants and four taking a-.vay attendants would
be 8000 an hour. For folding the 8000 printed copies five folding'
machines and at least two attendants wonld be required to keep
pace with the printing machines. Thus nineteen men were required
to print and fold 6000 copies per hour with the best machines as
late as 1870. AV'ith a rotary machine doing the same or a larger
quantity of work only two men are required. The cost for print-
ing and folding 1000 copies by (he Hoe machine was estimated at
Is. 4d., while with the rotary it is only about 2d. Hence the savin"
it wages to a newspaper issuing 200,000 copies a day on 313 working
iays would be nearly £3700 in a year. This, in connexion with im°
nrovements in paper, or rather the discovery of cheaper materials,
bringing the price of " news " down to about 2d. per tb — one quarter
of its price a very few years ago — accounts for much of the enter-
prise of modem journalism. For some time after the abolition of
the paper duty there was a loss on the circulation of a large-sized
penny journal , now there is a considerable gain. Lately rotary
firesscs for small jobbing work have been constructed ; and before
ong the rotary principle will probably be rendered available for
illustrated periodicals and fine book-work, printed from webs or
reels of ijaiier instead of single sheets. Great improvements have
. also been made in type-founding, and the Roman and Italic founts
row used by English printers are equal to those of any country
In the worW. It is sometimes said that English editions dt luxe
are not equal to those of the French, and that this is owing
to the iuferiority of the founders. This is, however, not quite
true : some of the best French books are printed from English
types or from types cut in the English manner. It is also the
fashion to compare modem printed books with those of the Elzei irs
and Baskerville. Yet as a matter of fact their best faces have beett
reproduced with perfect success by modern founders. From a-
mechanical point of view the impression given by the best machine
presses to-day is undoubtedly superior to that of the hand-presses
ofthe 17th and 18th centuries. If modem books suffer in any respect
on comparison with those of former times, which are so highly
prized by bibliophiles, it is owing to their want of general artistic
ensemble, and not to any deficiency in mechanical execution. The
artistic taste of English printei-s has, however, been greatly raised
during the last few years, and a very interesting movement is going
on which must produce important results in the future. In 1880
Mr Andrew W Tuer of Loudon organized the Printers' Specimen rrislere'
E.xchange, a schenie intended to promote the technical education Speci-
of the working printer. Each contrib.itor to the exchange furnishes men Ei-
peiiodieally a certain fixeu number of tjrpographic.il specimens, all charge,
alike, which are collated iuto sets, and again distributed to the
members, each of whom gets a volume, consisting of one copy of
the work of each of his fellow-contributors. By this plan they
become acquainted with the progress made by their brethren, and
good taste and good work are fostered and mutually encouraged.
The eighth quarto volume, issued in 1887, contains nearly 40o'fine
specimens of typography by as many ditferent hands. It forms
also the best criterion of the character of the jobbing work done at
the present day, not only in England but abroad, for the scheme
is of an international character. The results of the revival in Artistic
artistic printing during the last decade are especially noticeable in printing
jobbing work. Much of this improvement is due to the superior
material with which the printer is furnished, and especially to the
great variety of ornamental types which have been inti'oduced.
The specimen books of the principal type-founders are splendid
volumes, containing several thousand different faces. The best
work of German printers is noteworthy/or its studied neatness and
attractiveness, tasteful and harmonious arrangement of colour and
tint, a characteristic and,conscientious attention to details of finish,
exact register, and beauty of impression. Anaerican work excels
in originality of design, brilliancy of colour, and perfect finish.
English printers are closely following the best points of each ol
these schools of t\q.ogTaphy. There i3.a distinct leaning at present
to the German style, but with httle slavish imitation. The dis-
tinctness of English typography is maintained, while the beautiful
German combination borders, produced with such profusion of late,
are judiciously utilized, often in conjunction with American type.
In the arrangement of colours English printers prefer the quiet
harmonious tints of the Germans to the bold striking contrasts of
the Americans.
The vast extent of the operations of the printing fraternity Division
at the present day is in remarkable contrast to those of the loth of
century, when the making of books was an art like the sculpture labour,
o/ statues or the designing of buildings. Now, printing is a manu-
facture in which large capital and the greatest division of labour are
essential. The old printers were almost entirely independent of
other craftsmen. From the casting of the type to the mixing of
the ink they did nearly everything for themselves. Gradually the
different departments of the art were constituted separate and re-
cognized trades. The type-founder was probably the first to sec^e
from the concern ; then printers delegated to others the making
of presses ; afterwards the ink and the rollers found separate and
distinct manufacturers ; and there arose a class of persons who,
though belonging to other trades, made printing appliances a
specialty, such as printers' smiths, printers' joiners, and printers'
engineers. Subdivision again has taken place in regard to th&
operations which chiefly appertain to printing. The same mau
was formerly able to set up and print off the types, to fold the
sheets perhaps, and even to make them up into books. The opera-
tive printer has now become either a pressman or a compositor.
If he is of the first denomination, he may be clawed according as-
he works at press or machine. If he is a machinist, he may super-
intend or be a "minder," or he may be a layer-on or a takerotf of
the sheets. If he is a minder, he may understand only book machines
or only news machines ; he may know all about platens and littla
about cylinders ; or of cylinders he may know only one kind. En-
tirely novel machines create a new class of artisans. There are men
perfectly competent to manage a Walter press who are ignorant how
to work two-colour or fine book-work machines. In the compositor's
department di\ision of labour is carried out to a still minuter degree.
An old-fashioned printer would set up indifferently a placard, a
title-page, or a book. At the present day we have jobbing hands,
book hands; and news hands, the word "hand" su^estlng tho
factory-like nature of the business. There are jobbing hands who
confine themselves to posters, and know little about general work
even in this department Book hands comprise those who set up
the titles and those wno set up the body of the work. Of thcs»
latter again, while one man composes, another, the "maker-up,"
arranges the pa"es. Even the art of fitting up the furniture or
"dressing the chase" is given to the "quoin-drawer overseer."
Kews hands include advertisement hands and general hands. Some
men work by day, others altogether by night j some do general.
710
T Y R — T Y R
book-work comrosition ; others set up heaJ liues , others make up
the galleya ; others "prove'' them.
Old Style Priniing.
Old stvle Within the last few years there has been aa interesting revival
o int BE of the old stvle of book printing. It owes its or.jj.n to Mr Wha-
hi acrropriate type a work of fiction the diction of which «as
orpose7to be that of the reign of Charles II. As the oiigina
"old face" matrices of the first Uaslon had been preserved, a fount
was cast from them, and on getting a proof w,th good ink on good
paper, from a modern press the impression was found to be tar
Superior to specimens printed from, the origina fount. Since then
the der .irt for old-faced characters has steadily increased, and all
founders now supply imitations of the old types. Comparing the
Did face and the miiern characters, the latter are more regula. in
size lining, setting, and colour, -using these words in the technical
en^e of the founde°r . they have finer strokes and serifs and proa„ce
in the page a more regular and sparkling general effect At tlie
ame ti^mf it may be conceded that legibility has been o a certain
extent sacrificed to beauty and general effect. About 1882 an
minent French printer made a number of experiments to ^scerUm
what it is that constitutes legibility in type, and found Ih^t P''<'I »
read with less fatigue according as the lettere-<a) are rounde , 6)
Le more equal in thickness, (c) have shorter upstrokes W are
"issimUar to each other, and (.) are well proportioned to their own
body Drawings of letters from old books were visible and legible
at a distance at'which modern letters could not be dist.n^.shed
The revival has also brought about the '■^-\°^'-°f"^f' °° "//"K
headpieci^s and tailpieces, vignettes, and initial letters, which
have been reproduced from old books by photography and typo-
kching For this kind of printing white paper has given place to
toned, of a straw tint, which is often more agreeable to the jy"
. than he excessively bleached paper which was hitherto the fashion^
AIs hand made instead of machine made papfr has to a la ge exten
come into vogue lUs characteristic is tho "deckle edge , whicli
distin-uishes it from the clean cut edge of machine papers, and
is highly prized by some bibliophiles. When extreme verisim.h.
t .dels r^lired, this kind of printing is done on the blank leaves
of real old books, some of which have been ruthlessly destroyed f^or
this modern craze. On the whole, however, the reviva of old s tj le
printing has been beneficial, it has encouraged P"°ter3 to study
he more artistic attributes of the productions of the great pri«ers
of the past, and has educated the public taste by presenting them
with examples of the best kind of book making.
Printing Eslablishintnl
Deurrt A l»rge book printing estabhshment contains mnny distinct de-
meSTol paitments, some of whiA have not been previously re erred to and
Tprint may here be summarily mentioned The reading department, sonie.
ingeslab- limes called the closet, consists of a """l^er of small apartments
Jishment »ach furnished with a desk, a couple of stools, and a shelf for
Looks of reference, and having for its occupants the reader and us
leadrng-boy. There is also the warehouse, where a the printed
nd u^piinU sheets (or '•white paper "as >'/' ?^i't', "it'^hoi
its colour) are stored. Adjacent to this are folding, cutting, hot
^d cold pressing, drying, and other branches, each employing
^parate efasses o^f artLns Another department ,s the machine,
rolm, where, arranged in long rows with an avenue between are
the various printing machines. The men in this P^^' "f ''^^^^'^^^
lishment wear cotton vestments, coverin" all their othe oppaiel.
nnd caps, invariably made of paper, something like rf-^ncal birettas^
The machine overseer has his box and keeps an account of the
produce of each machine. Under him are the persons whos busine s
t is 10 cut out overlays for the cut or illustrated formes. These
men are in their way artists, for to them is attributable >""eh of he
beauty and perfection of working of each block that goes through
tluir hands They have by them three or four prints or pulls
of the block, and their tools consist of scissors, paste, a sharp knite
or two, and perhaps a razor- like blade set in a wooden handle
Their work is to deepen the shadows raise the ights, lower he
ed-es and perform a Tiundred other offices for a block. Standing
Mntri over each machine is the machine minder under him are
the t-akers-off and layers-on. The engine room and boiler-house are
close by, and higher up may be the hand press room -provided
the..e appliances are usecT. Here are the pressmen and their appren
tices. 'fhcre is the storekeeper's department, fitted up with shelves,
racks, and drawers, for the orderly storage of type and tnatcnals^
The plato-safe or plate-room is the repository of the stereo and electro
plates, each plate being kept wrapped up in paper, with a distinctn e
index number marked thereon. There are also rooms for casting
rollers, stereotyping rooms, drying rooms for paper, hydraulic press-
ing rooms, sinks for washing formes, and lifts for conveying them
from one department to another. There will possibly be several
composing-rooms, such as the 'stab, where all the men are paid on
esUblished weekly wages, the piece room, where they are paid by
results, and the apprentices' room. There may be rooms where
particular jobs are done, especially if weekly periodicals are turned
out and the names of these designate the rooms. At the end of
each room is the overseer. It is also a common practice for a Corriposi
number of men to form themselves into a kind of business partner- tor^
shin called a companionship or 'ship. All the transactions of the partner
compositor may be with his own cHckcr,-t.hs workman who is ships,
selected to keep tho accounts of the partnership. From him tho
compositor receives his portion of copy and the necessary direc-
tions and to him he gives the matter when it is composed. At
the end of the week he "writes his bill," deUvers it to the clicker,
and from the latter receives at pay time the wages he has earned.
The clicker gets the matter proved or " pulled by the p roof-
puller, who usually does nothing else but pull proofs He will
then send the proof with the copy to the oveiseer, and the overseer
sends it to the reading department to be corrected The proof,
when corrected, is returned through the overseer (who retains th6
copy) to the clicker, and he gives it to the compositor who set it
up When the type is corrected a revise is pulled, which goes
through the same hands to the overseer again ; and then it is de-
spatched to the author, editor, or publisher. In a weU-ordered
composing.room strict silence is enjoined upon the workmen
Amon-T the industrial pursuits there is none more monotonous and
more e°xacting, none demanding more patience, sustained industry,
and power of endurance than the compositors art. In a large
newspaper office the quantity of types picked up in a fe» 'ours is
marvellous. No beUer illustration of this could be given than the
fact that several recent issues of the Tirru^ have consisted of three
sheets or twenty four pages, each page comprising six columns.
In one of the.se issues 84? of the 144 columns were filled with ad
vertisements, 2559 in number, set in extremely sma 1 type; the
remaining 594 columns contained articles, reviews, letters, reports,
and paragraphs. The total length of the co umn aggrega e was
264 feet (62 more than the height of the London Monument). U
the matter comprised in the paper, instead of being broken up into
columns, had been set in one continuous line it would have reached
one mile 950 yarda The number of separate types used in printing
this issue was calculated at over two millions, and the quantity of
printed matter was reckoned to be equivalent to that contained m
two octavo volumes of 480 pages each. The Uterary and mechanical
staff of a first-rate London daily newspaper, excluding casual re-
porters and unattached writers on various subjects, aggregates about
I 300 persons.
££HS.^;/:^tS}?^^.:3iiii'^^=^Kr;^^;^:^
office ^ou1'a'sit«cn>rcss/'H>r(ir (-id e<l . MiJdlesborough, 1880 12.no) has a
short inrrod.ctionb7soutl.ward, giving a »Uetch of the »- e"',^"'^ I;"^^i°f
thednrcrenttypograph.cal processes and appliances from the beginning. See
Id London 1833 6TO)Tii' 0/ Tecluacul T,r„,B reluling lo rnnto,g!ll<ich,n,pi
(Lonton 1882 Svo); NVble,Jte*.n, PrM,<i.j (London, ISS^^^^^
a^d fradiceof Cooxa Prinlinn (London, 1881, 8vo); and Wilson, SKreoljpi^
and S™?W.".3 (London, 1880, Svo). This last conUins a history of stereo-
?;piog and ieclrotyping by Southward The best works '"J'^^fJ'.^-
Lefevre Guide Pratu,it du ComposiUurel d,l Impr.mtu, (?""■ '.8",y,-; ^J"; '"»
parts includes mac line work, slereolyping,andelcctrotyp.ng):Claye«»au*l
^,T/vp"cnn Cov,p«Alcur (3d cd , 12,no, Paris, 1SS3); and M""',';,'^ ""<*"^
Tt Aimrf'l, TyrogmpkiiiuK, mM da Praccdts d Impression (Pans. 18.9. S"*
The best Ccrm'ao work, and one which from its completeness supersedes all
0 he.; is Waldows Illustrierte EncsUopadic der grapKxsAtn KunsU Le'ps.c,
JssHir Svo). containing 2798 articles and 581 Ulustratious, w,th a list of Ger-
■"ftrl2Sl^»r-W:d''e''lvtntcrcst In the world has, perhaps, so many repr^
senS°ve7in the press as printing. The .ioumals >v)..ch record its progress
and describe its products iie iinnvalled in their excellent mechanical attrl-
Wes some emialUng the highest class of book.work printing and using paper
of the moTt luxuriouf description Their literary character is usually worthy of
?Lir S,an"cal excellence, and they comprise an ,i"'">f,"^^'=<'''<i«'''" "f "^j!
and s^culations on the sub.,ects Involved They also attrac. a class o "ii ers
who ni time become specialists and do the ,nost valuable work "n hibtorical
," vesication. The Pri.Kers' fi.jislcr (monthly), begun in '""■'>'« °''^f,f„°'
the English nrintin- traile journals, contains several valuable contribi.tioiiil
bv hfr W lliain B ad'es the biographer ofCaxton, such as " Numis.iiata Tsto-
c?,rhlca'' "Bibliotheca Typographica,- "Gonks and their Enemies, The
? ,'S tor of the Steam Printing f ress,; and " Eji' y Type ff,'^'™^" B'^'.s^j
The Paper and Prml.tig Trades Journal (quarterly), begun in 'f'- '' P''""'}
in old stvle fashion and reproduces in tone as well as .n manner some ot
Ihe best examXo the French and Italian schools in head and U.l p.eces.
There is also an extended list, with historical annoUt.ons, .D Biginore and
Wyiuan's BiWiojrap/ii/o/Prinliiij. '
TYR. Sec JEsm, vol. i. p. 211.
TYUE. the ancient is, Greek TOpos, th*, mt.st famous
I of rbocnician cities, is now representea oy the petty town
I of §ur, with about 5000 inhabitants, built round the liar-
T Y R — T Y R
711
^ur at the north end of a peninsula, which till the time of
Alexander's siege was an island. The mole which he con-
structed to reach the island city has been widened by de-
posits of sand, so that the ancient island is now connected
■with the mainland by a tongue of land a quarter of a mile
broad. The greatest length of the former island, from
north to south, is about | of a mile and its area about 142
acres, a small surface for so important a town. The re-
searches of Eenan seem to have completely refuted the
once popular idea that a great part of the original island
has disappeared by natural convulsions, though he believes
that the remains of a line of submerged wall at the south
•end inlicate that about 15 acres more were once reclaimed
from the sea and have been again lost Confined to this
narrow site — on which, moreover, place was found for the
great temple of Melkarth with its courts and for all the
necessities of a va.st trade^ for docks and warehouses, and
for the great purple factories whicl\ in the Roman time
were the chief source of wealth and made the town an
•unpleasant place of residence (Strabo, xvi. 2, 23 ; Pliny, v.
76) — Tyre was very closely built ; Strabo tells us that the
many-storied houses were loftier than those of Rome. In
the Roman period the population overflowed its bounds
and occupied a strip of the opposite mainland, including
the ancient Palsetyrus. Pliny gives to the wbole city, con-
tinental and insular, a compass of 19 Roman miles; but
this account must be received with caution. In Strabo's
time the island was still the city, and Palaetyrus on the
mainland was 30 stadia off, while modern research indicates
an extensive line of suburbs rather than one mainland city
that can be definitely identified with Palsetyrus. The
ancient history of Tyre has been dealt with in the article
Ph(enici.\ ; the topography is still obscure owing to the
paucity of Phoenician remains The present harbour is
certainly the Sidonian port, though it is not so large as it
once was ; the other ancient harbour (the Egyptian port)
has disappeared, and is supposed by Renan to have lain
on the other side of the island, and to be now absorbed in
the isthmus. The most important ruins are those of the
cathedral, with its magnificent monolith columns of rose-
coloured granite, now prostrate. The present building is
assigned, by De Vogui to the second half of the 12th
century, bul'the columns must be older and may have be-
longed to the 4th-century church of Paulinus (Euseb , //
E., X. 4). The water supply of ancient Tyre came from
the powerful springs of Ris al-'Ain on the mainland, one
liovu' south of the city, where there are still remarkable
reservoirs, in connexion with which curious revivals of
Adonis worship have been observed by Volney and other
travellers. Tyre was still an important city and almost
impregnable fortress under the Arab empire. From 1124
to 1291 it was a stronghold of the crusaders, and Saladin
himself besieged it in vain. After the fall of Acre the
Christians deserted the place, which was then destroyed
by the Moslems. The present town has arisen since the
Metawila occupied the district in 1766.
TYROL, a province of Austria, with the title of "county,"
lies between 10° 10' and 13° E. long, and 45° 40' and 47°
45' N. lat., and is conterminous on the north-west with the
Austrian province of Vorarlberg, on the north with Bavaria,
on the east with Salzburg and Carinthia, on the south-east
and south-west with Italy, and on the west with Switzer-
land. The last-named country forms in the lower Engadine
an angle penetrating deeply into Tyrol. The country is
entirely mountainous, being traversed by the main chain of
the Alps. It may be roughly divided into the valley
systems of the Lech and the Inn to the north of the chain
and of the Etsch or Adige (Vintschgau) and the upper
Drave (Puster valley) to the south (see Alps). Its area is
10,316 square miles ; its population in 1880 wa" 805,176,
inclusive of military, showing an increase of nearly 4
per cent, since 1S69. Of these 432,062 spoke German,
360,975 Italian or some Romance dialect, and the re-
mainder some form of Slavonic ; 565,468 persons were
able to read and write, 56,728 to read only, leaving about
225 per cent, of the total population, including children,
wholly illiterate. Education is strictly compulsory , but
the schools are for the most part closed during the summer
months, when all available hands are required in the fields
and on the mountain pastures Agriculture and forestry
occupy about two-thirds of the entire population. Every
householder owns a piece of cultivable land in the valley,
while his goats, sheep, or cattle are driven with those of
his neighbours to the mountain pastures (Alpen, Aimen)
which belong to the commune. Each commune has a
president chosen by an elected committee of householders.
The man selected cannot declme, but is bound to serve his
term of ofiice. The tenure of property is for the most
part of the nature of absolute ownership In I8S0 100,393
persons of both sexos were returned as proprietors, 10,283
as tenants. The chief products are milk, butter, and
cheese. Of grain-crops maize, which is largely grown in
the Inn valley and Vintschgau, holds the first place.
V\Tieat is grown m the lower valleys, barley and rye in the
higher, the latter in favourable spots to a height of over
5000 feet. Potatoes are found above 6000 feet. In the
Etsch valley, or district about Meran and Botzen, red and
white wine of excellent quality is produced (in 1884 about
6,500,000 gallons). Of late years the cultivation of fruit
has much developed, especially in south Tyrol. Silk is
also produced (in 1885 1268 tons of cocoons). Game is
still plentiftil in the remoter valleys. In every district
there are a certain number of licensed hunters, the prin-
cipal game being red deer, chamois, hares, blackcock,
ptarmigan, ic. Mining occupies about one-fifth of the
population. At Hall near Innsbruck are important salt
works, and at BrLtlegg in the same valley copper and lead
are smelted. Iron is worked at Fulpmes in the Stubai
valley and at Prad in the Vintschgau. Zinc is found at
the head of the Passeir valley. In the Middle Ages gold
and silver were found in sutBcient quantities to make it
worth while to extract them. About 4340 square miles of
the country are covered with forest, chiefly pine, fir, and
larch, which, however, is felled in a recklessly wasteful
way. The capital of the county is Lmnsbrdck (7.!'.).
The general average of comfort in Tyrol is high, and the cost of
living is veiy moderate. The peasant and his family are clothed
in stuffs spun and woven at home, from the wool and fla.x produced
in their own neighbourhood. The people are for the most part
somewhat reserved in manner, but courteous and hospitable. Tho
savage fights which used to be a favourite pa.stime among the
younger men are now almost, or quite, a thing of the past In
some valleys there is a good deal of musical talent ; and companies
of Tyrolese singers, particularly from the Ziller valley, travel about
all over Germany. The zither is a favourite instrument, especially
in the southern valleys ; in the northern the guitar is more fru-
quent. The religion is almost exclusively Roman Catholic ; but
in Innsbruck there are some hundreds of Protestants The priests
belong chiefly to the peasant class, and receive their education a J
Brixen and the university of Innsbruck. This contains about 600
students in the various faculties and possesses a library of some
60,000 volumes. There is a diet, or landtag, with its seat at Inns-
bruck, consisting of thirty four representatives of the peasants,
thirteen of the citi2ens, four of the prelates, ten of the nobles, three
of the chambers of commerce at Innsbruck, Botzen, and Roveredo,
and one of the university of Innsbruck. To the imperial reichs-
rath Tyrol sends eighteen members. Tyrol is garrisoned by troops
recruited exclusively in Tyrol and Vorarlberg, and never, except
in time of war, employed outside these provinces. Besides this
there are the landwehr and the landsturm or militia.
History. — The country corresponding to modern Tyrol first ap-
pears in history when the Rhietians were subdued by Drusus and
Tiberius. This nation, by some held to have been cognate with
the Etruscans, occupied the valleys from the source of the Rhine
tc that of the Drave. To the north of them were the Vindelici,
and to the east the Norici , the former were apparently separated
712
T Y R — T Y R
from thein by the riilgcs north of tlic Inn, the Utter by the «at«r-
shej between tlie Etsch and the Drave. Pliny (A^. 11., lii. 24)
gives the names of all the tribes. After their subjection by Rome
these races became Romanized and shared the fortunes of the empire.
Their position on and about the roads by which the central Alps
nve most easily crossed laid tlicin especially open to inroads, and
liefoi Ibe end of the 3d century the Alemanni had traversed the
country In the course of the next three centuries this people
settled in the noitli western valleys. But the peopling of the
greater part of the province liy Tenlons was effected by the Baiu
varii, who were by the year 600 Obtablished throughout nearly the
entire remainder of German TjToI, some of the Romanized Rhoetians
probably being left, mi.Ked with a few Alemannic stragglers, in
the upper Vintsch^au, while the Lombards pressed up from the
southward arid took possession of the district around Trent The
Alemanni and Baiuvarii, governed immediately by their own dukf^s,
owned a kind of allegiance to the kings of the Franks, and uUi
raately became in the time of Pippin and Charles incorporated in
the prankish monarchy. The country was then divided for ad-
ministrative purposes into counties {covntatiis, Gra/scha/lcn}, unJei
counts, whose rank, at first merely official, in course of time became,
with their office, hereditary. The most powerful among them
appear to have been those of the Vintschgau, where a fertile' soil
and a climate less rigorous than that of the northern valleys allowed
more development of wealth. In the 12th centijiy the counts of
Tirol begin to be conspicuous. This was a small district near
Meran, taking its name from the ancient castle of Tirol, know n in
the later Roman time as Teriolis. These, in the course of the
nest century, acquired the lordship over nearly all the territory
now contained in the province of Tyrol south of the main chain of
the Alps, besides the advocacy {Schirntvo(ilci) of the wealthy sees
of Brixen and Trent. Meantime the valley of the Inn and those
adjoining it had come under the dominion of the counts of Andechs,
a Bavarian family, who were also titular counts of Meran. The
last of these died without issue in 1248. His wife's sister, Adelaide,
married to Meinhard, count of Gorz, was left in sole possession
of nearly the whole of the province. Their son Meinhard II
(1257-1295) was connected with some of the most powerful houses
in Germany ; and, being a man of great ability and equal un
scrupulousness, he succeeded in acquiring the few outl) ing portions
of territory and castles still belonging to the smaller nobles, and
thus consolidated Tyrol within the limits by which it has ever
since been bounded. Carinthia and Styria also formed paft of
his domains ; but their connexion with Tyrol has never been other
than a personal one. Meinhard II. was succeeded in turn by his
sons Otho and Henry. The latter (1310-1335), a weak and ex-
travagant prince, seems to have done much towards organizing
the government of the country. His elder daughter Margaret,
known in Tyrolese history and legend as Die MauUasche, "the
Pocket- mouth," the heiress of his territories, took as her second
husband (in 1312) Louis of Brandenburg. Their son Bleinbard III.,
who succeeded to the county on his father's death in 1361, died in
1363. Margaret thereupon made over all her possessions to the
house of Hapsburg, and since that time Tyrol has formed part of
the'hereditary dominions of the archdukes of Austria (see Austria).
The fidelity of the Tyrolese to their counts has for many centuries
been ptoveibial. The Brenner has more than once ofTered them a
secure line of retreat and the mountains a rampart of defence.
Maximilian I (1493-1519) had an especial affertion for Tyrol He
conferied on the province its present title of Die gcfursteU Graf-
scJutft ; he profited on more than one occasion by tlie refuge it
afforded , he spent much of iiis time within it , and at his death
he directed tliat a sumptuous monument to himself should be erected
in the Franciscans' church at Innsbruck Tyrol has thore than
once been the scene of sharp fighting. In 1499 the men of Ciau-
biinden or the Grisons (see fawnzEBLAND) invaded the countiy and
defeated the Tyrolese in the neighbourhood of Mols. In 1703 Max
Emmanuel, elector of Bavaria, penetrated the upper Inn valley,
but was driven back During the wars of the French Revolution
French and Austiian armies met more than once within the Kmits
of the province. By the treaty of Pressburg, 1805, the province
was transferred to Bavaria Oii the renewal of war between Bona-
parte and Austria in 1809 the people rose .ind expelled the Bavari
ans, and afterwards, under the leadership of Andrew Hofi-r, an
innkeeper of the Passeir valley, repeatedly defeated the French,
Bavarian, and Saxon forces. Innsbruck was more tliaii once taken
and retaken; and on 12th August Hofer, after defeating Marshal
Lefcbvre, w-as installed in the capital as commandant. But the ill
success of the Austrian arms elsewhere prevented any support from
being sent, and by the treaty of Schbnbrunn in October the Tyrolese
were again given up to their new rulers. Hofer, being captured
through treachery, was shot at JIantua, 20th February 1810.
On the fall of Bonaparte, Tyrol reverted to the house of Hapshurg.
See A. JSRCr, Die I^pr/if^siinfl TWols, Iiinsbnick, ISSl-.'^S; Ejrper. Die Tiivlei
mifl ^orarlUrgcr. Innsbruck. 1S72-79; St«ub. Dni St»""ief in Tirol. Slult-'.-irt.
1871 (2(1 eU.l. (.\ J B.)
TYRONE, an inland county of Ireland, in tlie province
of Ulster, is bounded N. and \V. by Donegal, N.E. by
Londonderry, E. by Lotigh Neagh and Armagh, and S.
by Monaghan and Fermanagh Its greatest length from
north to south is 46 miles and from east to west 60: The
total area in 1881 was 806,638 acres or about 1260 square
miles. The surface is for the most part hilly, rising into
mountains towards the north and south, but eastwards
towards Lough Neagh it declines into a level plain. Run-
ning along the northeastern boundary with Londonderry
are the ridges of the Sperrin Mountains (Sawell 2236 feet
an>l Meenard 2064 feet). Farther south there are a range
of lower hillb and MuUaghearn to the nojth of Omagh (1890
feet) South of Clogher a range of hills (1265 feet) forms
the boundary between Tyrone and Monaghan. On each
side of the Mourne river near Omagh rise the two pictur-
e.^que hills Bes.?y Bell and Mary Gray The Foyle forms
a iiicall portion of the western boundary of the county,
and receives the Mourne, which flows northward by Omagb
and Newtown Stewart The principal tributaries of the
Mourne are the Derg, from Lough Derg, and the Oweii-
killew, flowing westward from Fir Mountain. The Black-
water, whioh is navigable by boats to Moy, rises near Five-
Mile Town, and forms part of the south-eastern boundary
of the county with Monaghan and Armagh. With the ex-
ception of Lough Neagh, bounding the county on the east,
the lakes are small, also few in number. Lough Fea i»
picturesquely situated in the north-west, and there are
several small lakes near Newtown Stewart. The Ulster
Canal runs along the southern boundary of the county from
Lough Neagh to Caledon The substratum of the northern
mountains is mica slate interspersed with primary lime-
stone. Yellow sandstone appears in the north-west, in the
centre towards Omagh, and in the south-west, where it
plunges into Fermanagh The greater portion of the
central area of the county is occupied by Old Red Sand-
stone. The Tyrone coal field (6 miles long by 1 to 2 broad)
e.xtends between Lough Neagh and Dungannon, all the
measures being represented The coal field is much broken
by faults and has been worked chiefly near the surface,
and generally in an unskdful manner ; the principal pits
are near Dungannon and at Coal Island The coal is
bituminous. There are also indications of copper, iron,
and lead
Agriculture. — The hilly portions of the county are unsuitable-
for tillage , but in the lower districts the soil is remarkably fertile,
and agriculture is generally practised at'tcr improved methods, the-
county in this respect being in advance of most parts of Ireland.
The excellent pasturage of the hilly districts affords sustenance to.
a large number of young cattle The total number of holdings in
1885 was 27,953, of which 16,469 or nearly two-thirds were each,
between 5 and 30 acres in extent (8365 between 5 and 15 and 8104
between 15 and 30> Only 43 were above 500 acres; 642 were be-
tween 100 and 500 acres, 2373 between 50 and 100, 3937 betweett
30 and 50, 2573 between 1 and 5, and 1921 did not exceed 1 acre.
There were 237,528 acres under crops', mcluding meadow and clover
(253,281 acres in 1876), 318,550 acres under grass, 1765 fallow,
9378 woods, 72,071 bog and marsh, 109,539 barren mountain land,
and 30,112 water, roads, fences, &c. The area under corn crops
decreased between 1876 and 1885 from 115,738 acrei to 105,343, —
oats from 114,223 acres to 104,040, and wheat from 1166 to 1013.
The areas under the othei corn crops are very small and fluctuate-
considerably. The area under green crops between 1876 and 1885
decreased from 64,971 to 5.9,387 acres, — potatoes from 44,001 to
40,649, turnips from 17,157 to 15,581, mangel wiirzel from 750 to
487, and other green crops from 3063 to 2670. Flax (23,901 acres
in 1876) covered 16,364 acres in 1885 The area under meadow
and clover in 1876 was 50.671, and in 1885 56,434, but there has
been no increase since 1878. 'flic number of horses decreased be-
tween 1S76 .and 1SS5 from 25,038 to 23,185, of mules from 71 to
49, of asses from 1124 to 921, of cattle from 176,841 to 168,072,
of sheep from 45,274 to 44,434, and of pigs from 49,012 to 39,530.
On the other hand, tlie number of eo.ats increased from 7950 to 8984,
and of poultry from 674,826 to 737,859.
According to the latest landowner's Return (1876), the county was
divided among 27S7 proprietors omiing 773,285 acres at a total
annual value of £426,224, the average value per acre being nearly
T Y R — T Y T
713
tls. Of the proprietors 1070 owned less than 1 acre each, the total
distributed amongst them bein" 272 acres. The estimated extent
of waste land was 4000 acres. The following possessed over 10,000
acres each — duke of Abercorn 47,615 acres, earl of Castlestuart
32,615, e.irl of Caledon 29,236, commissioners of cliurch tempor-
alities 28,002, Sir John M. Stewart 27,906, Arthur W. Cole Hamilton
16,6S3, representatives of Sir William M'Mahou 16,326, Sir William
Vemer 16.043, earl of Belmore 14,359, Thomas Arthur Hope 13,996,
Lord Dorchester 12,603, Michael Smith 10,963, Louisa Elizabeth
De Bille 10,455. and Thomas R Browne 10,125.
CvmmuniccUioit. — Besides Lou"h Neagh and the Ulster Canal,
TjTone has the river Foyle, which is navigable for small craft to a
foint opposite St Johnstone, and theuce by artiQcial cutting to
trabane, and the Blacknater, which is navigable for boats to Moy.
The Great Northern Railway intersects the county by Dunganuon,
Pomeroy, Oraagh, Newtown Stewart, and Stiabane.
Manufactures. — The manufacture of linens and coarse woollens
(including blankets) is carried on. Brown earthenware, chemicals,
tvhisky, soap, and candles are also made. There are a few breweries
and distilleries, and several flour and meal mills. But for the lack
of enterprise the coal and ii*on might aid in the development of a
tomulerable manufacturing industry
Ail'innistralion and Popnlattun- — The county comprises 3 baro*
oics, 46 parishes, and 2164 townlauds. Formerly it returned two
members to parliament, the borough of Dungannon also returning
■one ; but in 1885 Dungannon was disfranchised and the county
aiTanged in four divisions — east, mid, north, and south — each
feturiiing one member. It is in the north-western circuit, and as-
si2es are held at Om.igh and quarter-sessions at Clogher, Dungan-
non, Omagh, and Strabane. There are fourteen petty sessions
districts within the county and portions of four others. The county
is in the Belfast military district.
From 312,956 in 1841 the population had decreased by 1661 to
238,500, by 1S71 to 215,766, and by 1881 to 197,719 (96,466 males
and 101,253 females). In 1S81 there were 109,793 Roman Catliolics
<119,937 in 1871). 44,256 Protestant Episcoialians (49,201 in 1871),
■38,564 Presbyterians (42,156 in 1871), 3597 Methodists (3115 in
1871), and 1509. of other denominations (1357 in 1871). The
number of persons in the county who could read and write in 1S81
was 98,764, who could read only 38.783, the remainder (60,172)
being wholly illiterate. Twenty-two persons could speak Irish only
and 9796 Irish and English. For the seven years ending 1885 the
average number of emigrauts aanually was 3085. The population
of the principal towns in 1831 was — Strabane 4196, Omagh (the
county town) 4138. Dungannon 4084. and Cookstown 3870.
Uisiorif and AiUiquitiiS. — Aucieutly Tyrone was included in the
portion of Ulster made "sword-land" by the Scots. It became a
principality of one of the sons of Ni.iU of the Nine Hostages, and
from his name — Eogain — was called Tir Eogain, gradually altered
to T\Tone. From Eogain were descended the O'Xeals or O'Neills
and their numerous septs. The family had their cliief seat at Dun-
gannon until the reign of Elizabeth, when it was burned by Hugh
O'Neill to prevent it falling into the hands of Lord Monntjoy.
The earldom of Tyrone had been conferred on Con Bacagh O'Neill
by Henry VIII., but he was driven into the Pale by one of his sons
Shan, who with the gcnei^al consent of the people was then pro.
claimed chief From this time he maintained a contest with
English authority, but his last remaining forces were completely
■defeated near the river Foyle iu May 1567. During the insurrection
»f 1641 Charlemont Fort and Duiigaunon were captured by Sir
Phelim O'Neill, and in 1645 the Parliamentary forces under General
Munro were signally defeated by Owen Roe O'Xcill at Benburb.
At the Revolution the county was for a long time in the possession
of the forces of James II. Dungannon was the scene of the famous
volunteer convention in 1782. Raths are scattered over every dis-
trict of the county. There is a large cromlech near Newtown
Stewart, another at Tanilaglit near Coagh, and another a mile
iibove Castlederg. At Kilmeillie near Dungannon are two circles
of stones. The monastic remains are of comparatively little interest.
There are still some ruins of the ancient castle of the O'Neills, near
Benburb, and among other ruined old castles mention may be
made of those of Newtown Stewart, Dunganuon, Strabane, and
Ballygawley.
TYRTiEUS, Greek elegiac poet, lived at Sparta about
the middle of the 7th century B.C. According to the
legend current in later times, he was a native of the
Attic deme of Aphidnae, and was invited to Sparta, on
the suggestion of the Delphic oracle, to assist the Spartans
in the Second Messenian War. It is difficult, if not im-
possible, to determine the element of truth in this story.
Herodotus at least either did not know, or disbelieved,
the tradition, which meets us first in Plato (Laws, i. 629A),
to the effect that, although Tyrtaius was by birth an
Athenian, he had the Spartan citizenship conferred upon
mm (see Herod., is. 3o). From Plato down to Pausanias
we can trace the gradual growth and e.xpansion of the
legend. Ephorus is the first to call TyrtiBus a lame poet-;
by later generations he is represented as a, lame schooU
master. Basing his inference on the ground that Tyrta>UH
speaks of himself as a citizen of Spaita (/•>. 2 v. 3),
Strabo (viii. 4, 10) was inclined to reject the .stnry of his
Athenian oriijiii, regarding the elegies in quastion as
spurious. Oi! cLO w hole, perhaps, the conjecture I'f Busolt
(Gr. Gesr/i., p. IGG) coines nearest to the truth : the entire
legend may well have been concocted during the 5th century
in connexion with the expedition sent to the assistance of
Sparta in her struggle with the revolted Helots at Ithome.
It is possible, as Busolt suggests, that Tyrtitiis was in
reality a native of Aphidna in Laconia. However this
may be, it is certain from the fragments of his poems that
he flourished during the Second Messenian War {vuc. 650
B.C.) — a period of remarkable musical and poetical activity
at Sparta (see Terp.\ndee) — that he not only wrote poetry
but took part in the actual service of the field, and that
he endeavoured to compose the internal di-ssensions of
Sparta by inspiring the citizens w-ith a patriotic love
for their fatherland and its institutions.
We possess in all about twelve fragments of Tyrtjeus's
poetry, varying in length from one to forty-four hues.
They are preserved by Strabo, Lycurgus, StobMus, and
others. We may divide them into two varieties, accord-
ing to the metre and dialect in which they are composed.
The first class consists of elegies in the Ionic dialect>
written partly in praise of the Spartan constitution and
King Theopompus (Evvofiia), partly to stimulate the
Spartan soldiers to deeds of heroism in the field {'YiroOiJKai
— the title is, however, later than Tyi-ta;us). The interest
of the fragments preserved from the EiJi'oy^i'a is mainly
historical : they form our only trustworthy authority for
the events of the First Jlessenian War {Fi: 5, 6, 7). The
'Y-o6']Kai possess considerable poetic merit, in spite of the
occasionaLmonotony of their versification. Addressed to a
nation of warriors, they paint in vivid colours the beauty
of bravery and the shame of cowardice; there are also
lines in them which reveal the so'idier as well as the poet,
f.g.. Ft. 10, 31-32. One striking feature is the genuinely
Greek feeling for plastic beauty, sho'jving itself in the
beautiful picture of the youthful form lying dead u])oi>
the battle-field {Fr. 10, 27-30, and 12, 23-31; see also
Symonds's Greek Poets, i. p. '■1). The popularity of these
elegies in the Spartan army was such that, according to
Athenajus (xiv. 630 F), it became the custom for the soldiera
to sing them round the camp fires at night, the polemarch
rewarding the best singer with a piece of flesh. Of the
second class of Tyrtjeus's poems, marching songs, written
in the ar.apfestic measure and the Dorian dialect, the re-
mains are too scanty to allow of oiu- pronouncing a judg.
meut on their poetic merit.
See Bcrgk, Pods Lyrid GrsKi, vol u. pp. 8-22, Leipsic, 1882.
Fragment 10 (reSj/d/iffoi ydp A;aX6i>, &c,) has been translated IBto
English vei-se by CampbelL
TYTLER The surname of three Scottish writers
principally ai historical subiects.
1. Alexander Feaser Tytler (I747-1S'.?), Lnrd
Woodhouselee, Scottish judge, was the eldest son of William
Tytler (see below), and was born at Edinburgh on 15tli
October 1747. After passing through the High School,
he was sent in 1763 to a school at Kensington taught by
Dr Elphinston, the translator of Martial's Epigrams. Ho
returned to Edinburgh in 1765, skilled in Latin versifica-
tion, and with a competent knowledge of Italian, and a
taste for drawing and natural history. He was called to
the bar in 1770. His first work, a supplement to the
Dictionary of Decisions, undertaken on the suggestion of
XXIII. — go
714
T Y U — T Z E
Lord Karnes, was published in 1778, and a continuation
appeared in 1796. In 17S0 Tytler was appointed con-
joint professor of universal history in the ""'versity of
Edinburgh, becoming solo professor in 1786. In 17b:i lie
published Ouahies of his course of lectures, afterwards
extended and republished under the title of Elemerits of
General HUiory. The Elements has passed through many
editions, and has been translated into several European
Lantrua'^es as well as into Hindustani. The lectures them-
selves were published in 1831 in Murray's Family Library
In 1790 Tytler was appointed judge-advocate of Scotland,
and while holding this office he wrote a Treatise on the Law
of Courts-Martial. In 1801 he was raised to the bench,
taking his seat (1802) in the court of session as Lord \\ ood-
houselee. He died at Edinburgh on 5th January IbU.
BesiJes the wo.ks alreaJy mentioi.cJ, he was the autliovof severe
papers in the Mirror, the Lounger, and the Transactions of the Koijal
&y of Edinburgh ; he also wrot Life and lyrUings of Dr John
Gregory; Essay on the Principles of Translalion,\,9() ; a disserta-
tion on h^i Causes, rie6Ned to his edition of Derham s /■/iy«m-
Theology, 1799; a political pamphlet entitled Iceland profiting l,y
Example, 1799 ; an Essay on Uuia and Petrarch ; and T)ie Life
tnd Writings of Henry Home, Lord Karnes, 1807.
2. P.^TRicK Eraser Tytler (1791-1849), as tne son
of Lord Woodhouselee and grandson of William Tytler,
mav be said to have inherited a taste for literary and his-
torical pursuits. He was born at Edinburgh on 30th
A.ufu«t 1-791, and was educated chiefly at the High School
and° university, being called to the bar in 1813. His
earliest literary efifort appears to have boen a chapter or
two contributed to Alison's Travels in France (181o) ; and
his first independent essays were papers in Blackwoods
VeiggLzine. Inheriting the family talent for music, and
with a facility in throwing off humorous little poems and
sonc^ he made several contributions to Thomson s Select
Melodies of Scotland, 1824. In 1819 he published the
Life of James Crichton. of Clnny, commonly called the
Admirable Crichton, a SLCond editior. appearing in 1823
This was followed by a Memoir of Sir ThMias Craig of
Riccarton, 1823 ; an Essay on the Revival of Greek Litera-
ture in Italy, and a i//V o/ John WiMif, published
anonymously, in 1826. the /lisfory of Scotland was un-
dertaken at the suggestion of Sir Walter Scott, and occupied
Tytler for nearly twenty years, in the course of which he
removed to London for convenience of research. The first
volume appeared in 1828, and the ninth and last in 1843
The original investigations on which the work was founded
gave it an authority which no previous history of Scotland
possessed, and the clear and graphic style made it inter-
esting and popular. The last few years of his life were
spent in physical prostration and mental depression, and
he died at Great Malvern on 24th December 1849.
Durino the progress of his History a large amount of other wovK
came from his pen, as the following list ihows •.-iu'« o/ feoUish
Worthies, for lluriay-s Family Library, 3 vols., 1831-33 ; Hiftori-
cal View of the Progress of Discovery in America 1832, and iyco/
Sir Walter Raleigh. 1833, for the Edinburgh Cabinet Library;
Life of Henry VUI., 1837 ; England under the Reigns of Edu-ard
VL and Mary, from original letters, 2 vols., 1S39 ; article -Scotland
in the sev.enth edition of the Encyclopmdia Britannicamnv:iu\s,
published separately as a school history) ; Notes on The Dariihy
Jeicel 1843 ; on the Portraits of Mary (?i«cn of Scots, lS4o
(privately printed) ; and Memoirs of the War carried on in Sco.land
and Ireland. 16S9-91, by General Maekay, edited in conjunction
with Hog and Urquhart, and presented to the Bannatyne apU
Maitland Clubs in 1833.
3. William Tytler (1711^792), of Woodhouselee,
writer on historical and antiquarian subjects, was the son
of Alexander Tytler, writer in Edinburgh, and was born in
that city on 12th October 1711. He was educated at the
High School and the university, and, having adopted his
father's profession, was in 1744 admitted into the society
"of Writers to the Signet. While successfully jiractising
as a lawyer, he found time to devote attention to liistorical
investigation. In 1759 he published an Inquiry, fTiston-
cal and Cntical, into the Evidence agavist M<iry Queen of
.Scots, and an Examination of the Histories of Dr R..ici-lso>f
and Mr Hume with respect to that Evidence. This woik»
which warmly defended the character of the queen, met
with great success. Four editions, the later ones con-
siderably enlarged, were publibhed in the author's lifetime;,
and it was translated into French. In 1783 he published
the Poetjcal Remains of James the Fir.-^l, king of Scotland,
to which he added a" dissertation cm -the life and writings,
of the royal author. He wrote an essay on "Scottisli
Music," which was appended to Aniot's History of Edin-
burgh His " Dissertation on the Marriage of Queen Marj-
to the Earl of Bothweli " and " Observations on the Visioi>,_
a Poem " appeared in the Transactions of the Sonety ot
Antiquaries of S'.otland{\7':)\-':)2). A paper in the Lounger,
on " Defects of Modern Female Education," and an Account
of Fashionable Amusements inr Edinburgh in the Seventeenth
Century complete the list of his works. He died at Edin-
burgh on 12th September 17D2.
TYUJIEN, a district town of West Siberia, in the
government of Tobolsk, is situated at a point where the
chief hi-'hway from Russia across the Urals" touches the-
first navigable river (the Tura) of Siberia. A railway
passint' through Ekaterinburg ajid the principal iron-
works on the eastern slopes of the Aiddle Urals connects.
Tyumen with Perm, the terminus of steamboat traffic on
the Kama and Volga. The Tura being a ti ibutary of tlie
Tobol, which joins the Irtish, a tributary of the Ob.
Tyumen has regular steam communication with Omsk
and Semipalatinsk by the Irtish (steamers-penetrating as
■far as Lake Zaisan in Dzungaria) ; with Tomsk, Barnaut,
and Biysk, in the Altai, by the Ob and the Tom ; witlt,
Irbit— the seat of the great Siberian fair — by the Tura
and the Nitsa ; and by the Tobol, the Irtish, and th&
Ob with the Arctic Ocean and the fisheries of the lower
Ob. Tyumen stands also at the western extremity of
the Siberian highway which goes via Omsk, Tomsk, and
Krasnoyarsk to Irkutsk. In summer the Tura sometimes,
falls so low that steamers have to stop 90 miles off, pass-
engers and goods being taken thence toTyumeii in lighter
vessels. The town is well built, and stands on both banks
of the Tura, which is here spanned by a bridge. The
portion on the low left bank is inhabited by the poorest
class and is often inundated ; the best houses are on the
hich richt bank. The streets are unpaved, hut the houses
(principally wooden) are for the most part inclosed by
gardens. The people, who are famed throughout Siberia
for their good looks, have always Been renowned for
their industrial skill. Woollen, doth, linen, belts, and
especially boots and gloves, are manufactured to a large-
amount (70,000 pairs of boots and 300,000 pairs of gloves,
annually). Tyumen carpets, although made in the simplest
way and with the plainest tools, have a wide renown m
Russia and Siberia, and recently have appeared in the
markets of western Europe as of Oriental origin. All kinds,
of metal wares are made in Imall workshops. Sheepskins,
and various kinds of cloth are extensively manufactured,,
and the leather prepared at the tanneries (100 in number)
is extensively sold all over Siberia, the Kirghiz steppe and
Bokhara. An establishment has recently been opened for
the construction of barges, and a paper-mill, the first m
Siberia, was opened in 1886. The trade of Tyumen is ex-
ceeded only by that of Irkutsk and of Tomsk. In additwn
to its primary schools Tyumen has a " real " school. The
population, which is of a fluctuating character in summer,
is differently estimated at 13,000, 14,500, and 18,000.
TZARSKOYE SELO. See Tsarskoye Selo.
TZETZES, Joannes, a voluminous Byzantine writer of
the 12lli century. See GREECE, vol. xi. p. 145 sq.
715
U
U holds Ui© t woutj-first place in our alphabet The
corresiicnJiiig place in the Greek alphabets was
occupied by Y (viitU jomc sliijlit variations of form). The
form in tho Italian nl|.liabt;t3 was generally V These
three are only modifications of one original ; but they are
independent symbols with us, though Y does not represent
any sound otherwise unrepresented. It will be most con-
venient to describe the three forms once for all.
With T we reach the end of the original Phoenician
alphabet. The remaining symbols — no fewer than six with
as, four in the completed Latin alphabet — are accretions,
either modifications of old symbols for greater exactness or
old symbols thcmseUes which had fallen outof their proper
place and were addctl again. The first new symbol was
nee<led to represent the important vowel sound u. \Ve
have already seen that the Greeks employed the PhtEnician
synilxiU for the breaths winch they did not want as symbols
for the vowels which they did want. Thus we should have
expt'Cled that the Pha;iiician vau would have been used
for i< Cut vau was already employed for to, which was
a living sound in early Greek , the form used was F (the
so-called digamma), the oiigin of our F. What then was
the origin of the symbol for a 1 In the earliest Greek we
find the two forms Y and V, e.g , in inscriptions of Thera.
Now the Moabite form of vau is Y, which resembles the
Y more than F. It is difficult to see why the presumably
oldest Phoenician form should appear, not in the sixth place
of the Greek alphabet, but at the end, where it must have
been an arbitrary addition ; and, although the Y form
could be derived from F (middle steps are found), it is not
easy to get F from Y. We may suppose that the two
symbols, F and Y, were obtained by the Greeks from
independent Phoenician alphabets, the first being kept by
those Greeks who required a symbol for w, and did not at
first need any special sign to distinguish u (which in the
eailiest Greek times known to us had the value of German
<•) from 0 ; while the others took the form Y to express the
modified u, and probably never really adopted the F,
except as a numeral ; it does not appear even in the very
old Abu Simbel inscription written by the Ionian mercen-
aries of Psammitichu.s. It is noteworthy that in that in-
scription both the forms Y and V appear, whereas in those
of Thera and Melos we have sometimes the one sometimes
the other, but not both in the same inscription, and a
study of the writing leads to the conclusion that the Y
was felt to be the true (i.e., the older) form, but that V
was used more frequently for the sake of simplicity. -
At Piome the single form V denoted both the vowel v
and also the consonantal lo. F retained its place as sixth
in the alphabet, but with the value of/, which was un-
known to the Greeks, a peculiar form, C, in which the
middle stroke has gone to the bottom, seems to have been
affected by its neighbour E , this is found in Etruscan,
Umbrian, and Samnite inscriptions , it has, however, the
value of to , while a curious symbol 8 appears at the end
of the Etruscan alphabet, and is also used in the Eugubine
tables, with the value of/; the origin of this is uncertain.
It may be a rounded form of the second symbol in the
digraph FB {i.e., FH) by which the sound F is indicated
in a very old inscription (see Rhein. J/us., slii. 317), if
this is so, the Latin alphabet has the first member of the
digraph, the Etruscan has the second. Next, the symbol
Y was added (together with Z) in the 1st century b.c to
represent more e.xactly, in borrowed words, the sound of
Greek ppsiloa
Lastly, the form U was dilferentiated from V, It is thft
uncial form, and so belongs to the general transition from
the pointed to the rounded character which conduced to-
greater convenience of wTiting. E.xamples of it may be
seen in the article on Pal.eography ; see the specimen of
Latin uncial of the 5th or 6th century (vol. xviii. p. 153),
and the half-uncial of the Lindisfarne Gospels, about 706
A.D. (i6i</ , p. 159). It was clearly a matter of convenience
to have separate symbols to represent sounds so distinct aa
u and V ; but the application of the two symbols seems to
have been due to chance rather than design. The form
V remained in use at the be.sjinning of words, whereas u,
which was the uncial and cursive form, naturally was used
rather in the middle ; by degrees the initial form was a[>-
jiropriated to consonants, — perhaps, as Dr Taylor suggests
{Alp/iabet, ii. 189), because the consonant is commoner at
the beginning of words, or for some other reason, while the
medial form was connected with vowels.
The sound which U denotes is produced by " rounding "
the lips to the furthest extent consistent with a clear
vowel-sound, and by raising the back of the tongue higher
than for any other rounded sound. It has two varieties
(like all other vowels) according as the position of the
tongue is more or less tense, producing thereby a narrower
or a wider aperture for the voice to pass through ; whence
the sounds are technically called "narrow "and "wide"
respectively. The narrow sound is heard in English only
when the vowel is long, as in " book," " rule," but in
northern English (Scotch) " book " may be heard short.
The wide sound is heard in " full," "good." The digraph
00 is commonly used for the u sound, and attests the fact
that the original sound of 5has frequently passed into u,
as in "good," "food," ic, written_ " gode," "fode" ia
Middle English ; sometimes, however, the oo has come by
analogy into words where u is the original sound, as in.
" room," M.E. " roura," O.K. " rum." Original u has com-
monly passed into the au sound, spelt in English qu or oiPy
as in "how," "house," "mouse," "bower," for O.E. "Im,"
"hus," "mus," "bur," According to Mr A. J. Ellis,-,
words derived from the French had in Chaucer's time the
sound of French w , and Sir John Chcke's statement "cum
duie, title, htte, reixtke, Svk, tux, \vt, pt/SiK dicimus,
Grsecum v sonaremus," seems strong for the same practice
in the 16th century. In the 17th century the modern pro-
nunciation of K as iu in " muse," "duke," " mute," " pure"^
had come in Hence also we may explain the substitutioo
of u for y in some genuine Englibh words, as " busy " (orig-
bysig) At the same time begins the corruption of a to
the (so-called) u sound in " but," "shut," ic. , this is not
a a sound at all, but the neutral vowel as heard indifier-
ently in "but," "sun," "son," "blood" , it is often con-
founded by writers with the true a heard in " pull " and
in the northern pronunciation of "but," "shiit" For the
history of the German " modified" u (spelt it, but origin-
ally ue) see under Y.
UBEDA, a town of Spain, head of an administrative
subdivision in the province of Jaen, stands on a gentle
slope about 5 miles from the right bank of the Guadal-
quivir, and about 22 miles- to the east of the Menjibar
station on the railway from Madrid to Cordova. Undet
the Moorish rule it was a place of considerable conse-
quence, its population being said to have at one tim&
numbered 70,000. Some portions of the old walls, with
towers and gates, still remain, but none of the publia
buildings are of great age, the oldest church, that of Sao
716
U D A — U E B
fialvador, dating from 1540-50. The population within
the municipal boundaries in 1S77 was 18,149.
UDAIPUR [OoDEvronE], or Me«'ar, a native state in
Rajputana, India, with an area of 12,670 square miles. It
extends from 23° 49' to 25° 58' N. lat, and from 73° 7' to
75° 52' E. long., and is bounded on the N. by the British
territory of Ajmere; on the E. by the native states of
I'undi, Gwalior, Tonk, and PaitAbgarh ; on the S. by
lianswira, Dungarpur, and Mahi Kintha ; and on the W.
by the Aravalli Mountains, separating it from Marwar and
Sirohi. The greater part of the country is level plain. A
section of the Aravalli Mountains extends over the south-
western and southern portions, and is rich in minerals, but
the mines have been long closed. The general inclination
•of the country is from south-west to north-east, the Banas
and its numerous feeders flowing from the base of the
.\ravalli range. There are many lakes and tanks in the
ttate, the finest qC which is the Dbebar or Jaisamand, with,
an area of nearly 21 square miles; it is considered to be
the largest sheet of artificial water in the world. There
iire only two metal roads in the state ; the Nimach State
Kaihvay passes through the north-eastern part.
In ISSl the )iopulation, e.'scliisive of 51,076 Bliils, was 1,443,144
(males 772, G35, females, 070,459); Hiiuliis numbered 1,321,521,
Mohammedans 43,322, Jains 78,171, and Christians 130. The only
town with over 10,000 inliabitants is Udaipur, the capital (38,214).
Tliis city is pietmesfiuely sitiiated on a lake 2000 feet .-ibove sea-
level, and faecs wooded lulls. It contains the royal palace, which
is a noble pile of gianite and marble, built on the crest of*a rocky
iid«e overlooking the lake,' city, and valley. There are no niann-
factures of any importance in the state, and the crops as a rule
unly suffice foilocal wants. The pvincipa! iujports are salt, piece
j/oods. groccrie's, metals, medicines, sugar, ivory, and tobacco ; and
ihe exports are mostly conHned to turmeric, giir, cotton, iudigo, til,
opium, and cattle. The total income of Udaipur in 1SS5-S6 was
£259,624. The state was taken under the protection of the British
Government in 1817, and it pays an annual tribute of £20,000.
The family of the raja of Udaipiir ranks highest in dignity among
the Rajput chiefs of India.
UDAL (Danish Oihl) is a kind of right still existing in
Orkney and Shetland, and supposed to be a relic of the old
allodial mode of landholding existing antecedently to the
^Tow th of feudalism in Scotland. The udal tenant holds
without charter by uninterrupted possession on payment
to tbe crown, the kirk, or a grantee from the crown of a
tribute called scat (Danish shut), or without such payment,
tlte latter right being more strictly the udal right. Udal
lands descend to all the children equally. They are con-
\ertible into feus at the option of the udallers.
UDALL, Nicholas (b. 1505-d. 1556'), author of the
•earliest extant regular English comedy. IJdall was a typ-
ical man of the Renaissance in England, a schoolmaster by
profession, a classical scholar, a translator of Terence and
•Erasmus, and a writer of pageants and interludes. He
was high in favour at court, wrote verses for the city
pageant exhibited at Anne Boleyn's coronation in 1533,
4ind was honoured by Mary in 1554 as one that had
" heretofore showed ar.d mindeth hereafter to show his
diligence in setting forth of dialogues and interludes before
us for our regal disport and recreation." The severity of
his discipline at Eton, where he was headmaster, has been
immortalized by the quaint lines of one of his pupils,
Thomas Tusser. The exact history of the production of his
comedy Ralph Roysfer Doyster is not known. A printed
copy wanting the title-page came to light in 1818, and we
know that it was licensed to be [irinted in 156G. It is a
-distinct advance in construction on the Merry Interludes
of John Heywood, but it is not a comedy in the strict
English sense, being, like the interludes, essentially farcical
' The date of Ud.ill's death is sometimes erroneously given asl564,
ill which year his play of Ezddas was performed at Cambridge before
•Queen Elizabeth. He was buried at St Margaret's, Westminster, on 23d
l>eceiDber 1556 (see memoir in Coopci-'s edition of Royster Doyster).
in motive, character, and incident. Although an imitatioQ
of the Latin comedy, it is far from being a servile imita-
tion, and abounds in fresh fun and cleverness. It has
been twice reprinted, — by the Shakespeare Society (with a
memoir by Mr Cooper) and in Arber's Reprints.
UDINE, a town of Italy, in the province of Udine, in a
wide plain near the foot of the Carnic Alps, on the Roja, 84
miles by rail north-east from Venice and 49 miles north-west
from Trieste. It is enclosed by an imposing wall of con-
siderable antiquity, some 4 or 5 miles in circumference,
and fortified with towers. In the centre, on an eminence,
stands the old castle, at one time the residence of the
patriarchs of Aquileia, and now used as a prison. Grouped
around this is the old part of the town, with narrow-
crooked streets, some of which are lined with arcades.
The cathedral, which is a Romanesque building with fine
pillars, and an hexagonal tower bearing 14tli-century sculp-
tures, contains some interesting e.xamples of native art (by
Giovanni Martini da Udine and. pthers). The church .of
S. Maria della Purit.a has frescos by Tiepolo On the
principal square stands the town hall, built in 1457 in the
Venetian-Gothic style, and skilfully restored since a fire in
1876 ; opposite is a clock tower resembling that of the
Piazza di San Marco at Venice. The archiepiscopal palace
and Museo Civico, as well as the municipal buildings, have
some valuable paintings. Several of the palaces of the
nobility have striking architectural features, and the town
is adorned by many beautiful public walks. The leading
industry of Udine is silk-spinning, but. it also possesses
manufactures of linen, cotton, hats, and paper, tanneries,
and sugar refineries, and has a considerable trade. The
population in 1881 was 23,254.
Udine is the Fedinum of Pliny ; it was then a municipinm, but
quite an inconsiderable place compared with Forum Julii (Cividale)
11 miles to the east, or Aquileia 22 miles to southsouth-east. In
the Middle Ages it became a flourishing and populous city ; in
1238 the patriarch Berthold made it the capital of Friuli (j.v.),
and in 1420 it became Venetian.
UEBERWEG, Friedrich (1826-I57I), best known by
his History of Philosophy, was born on the 22d January
1826 at Leichlingen, in Rhenish Prussia, where his father
was Lutheran pastor. His mother, left early a widow,
devoted her scanty means to the education of her only
son. Ueberweg passed through the gymnasium at Elber-
feld, and studied at the universities of Gottingen and
Berlin. In 1852 he qualified himself at Bonn as privat-
docent in philosophy. His System of Logic, published in
I85_7 (English translation 1871), and bis essay On the
Authenticity cinii the 0>fltr nfihe Platonic Writings, crowned
by the Imperial Academy of Vienna (published 1861), con-
tributed to draw attention to him as at once a scholar and
a thinker. In 1862 he was called to Konigsberg as extra-
ordinary professor, and in 1867 he was advanced to the
ordinary grade. He married in 1863. and on the 9tb June
1871 he died prematurely.
The chief woik of his later years was his compendious History of
Philosop/ty, which is unmatched for fulness of information coni-
bined with conciseness, accuracy, and impaitiality of treatment.
The first part appealed in 1862. An English translation, in two
volumes, was ]iublished in 1872, and has gone through sc^'eral
editions. Ueberweg translated, in 1869, Berkeley's Princijites of
Hiiptan Knoii'lcdgc, with notes, for Kirehmann's PhilosophiSfJte
Biblioihcl: In iihilosophy Ueberweg was strongly opposed to the
subjectivistie tendency of the Kantian system, maintaining in
particular the objectivity of space and time, which involved him in
a somewhat violent controversy with several opponents. His own
mode of thought he preferred to describe as an ideal realism, which
refused to reduce reality to thought, but asserted a p:irallelism be-
tween the forms of existence and the forms of knowledge. Beneke
and Schleiermacher seem to have exercised most influence upon
the development of his thought. A short memoir, by his friend
F. A. Lauge (authc of the History of Material isin), gives some
account of what may be called personal opinions in philosophy and
theology, which did not find expression in Ueberweg's published
writinjre.
U F A — U G A
717
UFA, a government of south-eastern Russia, on the
western slope of the Urals, has Vyatka and Perm on the
N'., Orenburg on the E. and S., Samara and Kazan on' the
W., and comprises an area of 47,112 square miles. In
virtue alike of its physical characters and of its population,
which belongs chiefly to the Ural-Altaic stock, it forms
an intermediate link between Europe and Asia, and it was
only recently separated from the government of Orenburg,
which is now limited' to the eastern slopes of the Urals.
Several craggy and densely wooded ridges, running from
<;olith-west to north-east parallel to the main chain <if the
southern Urals, occupy its eastern part. They are separ-
ated by broad and long longitudinal valleys, and rise to
altitudes of from 2500 to 3500 feet above the sea ; their
highest peaks — Iremel (5040 feet), Nurgush, Urenga, and
Taganai (3950 feet) — are above the limits of tree-vegeta-
tion, but in no case reach those of perpetual snow. The
high longitudinal valleys of the Urals are the seat of an
important mining industry. Southward Ufa extends over
the slopes of the Obshchiy Syrt plateau, the angular space
between the latter and the Urals being occupied by elevated
plains (from 1000 to 1500 feet), deeply grooved by the river
valleys and sometimes described as the " Ufa plateau." It
slopes gently towards the depression of the Kama ; and its
undulating surface, especially its broad valleys (500 to 600
feet above the sea), covered as they are with a fertile soil,
nre being rapidly colonized by Russian settlers. Towards
the Kama the fertility of the soil increases, and the black-
earth regions of Menzelinsk and Birsk may be described
as granaries for that part of Russia.
The geological stractnre of Ufa is very varied. . The main ridge
of the Urals consists of gneisses and various cnrstalline slates rest-
ing upon granites and syenites ; next comes a broad strip of lime-
stones and sandstones, the fossil fauna of which is intermediate
in Its lowest parts between the Upper SUurian and the Lower
Devonian. These form the highest ridges of Ufa. Farther west
the Devonian deposits are followed by Lower and Ui.per Carbon-
. iferous and "Artinsk schists," which, together with Ferraiau de-
posite, cover western Ufa. Quaternary deposits are extensively
developed in all the valleys, most of which were occnpied by lafees
dunng the Lacustrine period. Ufa has not the mineral resources
of Ferm ; only traces of gold have been found in its valleys, and
silver ores an; absent ; but its wealth in iron (Devonian) and copper
(I emiian) seems likely to have great mining importance in the
future. The district of Ztatoust is celebrated for its granite, epldote
nephrite, and a variety of decorative stones and minerals. Coal is
spread over a wide area, but only in layers too thin to make work-
ing remunerative Fire-clay, kaolin, and sandstone for making
grindstones are obtained to some extent ; naphtha, sulphur, and
saltpetre have been observed in several places.
Ufa belongs almost entirely to the drainage area of the Bvetaya
a CTeat tnbutary of the Kama, which rises in Orenburg, flows sonth
and west till it pierces a mountain chain at Bugutchan, and then
runs north and north-west, watering the high plains and receivin-^
a number of import-int tributaries, among which the Sim, thl
lanyp, and the Ufa are also navigable. The banks of the Byetaya
«re thickly peopled, and it is an important channel for trade ; but
It sometimes reaches so low an ebb in summer that steamei-s cannot
proceed beyond Birek. The Kama .flows for 120 miles alon.- the
western border of the government. Marshes lie along its couile, so
that Its banks are but thinly inhabited. Forests cover nearly half
the area, but the plains on the left of the Byetaya are comparatively
thinly wooded. The climate of Ufa is very continental. The average
temperature at Ufa is 37° F., and the winter is extremely cold (Janu-
ary a -5 F., July 68 F.) ; at the Ztatoust observatory (1340 feet) the
nvcmge temperature is only 32'-2 {January 2=; July 61°-8). Even
in the hilly tracts of Ztatoust the annual rainfall is only 19 inches
1 he rivers are frozen 158 days at Ufa, 4fad 202 about Ztatoust
,J„ population of Ufa is now rapidly increasing (1.793,260 in
1882, as against 1,291 020 in 1865). Only one-thi?d of tU whole
IS Russian the remainder being chiefly Bashkirs (50 per cent, in-
cluding Meschcnaks and Tepters), Tartars (8-4 per cent), Tchere-
misses, Tchuvashes, Slordvinians, and Votiaks. In the south the
Bashkirs, Tartars, and other Ural-Altaians constitute two-thirds of
the population. Among the Russians two distinct elements must be
distinguished. -some. 100.000 peasants, who formerly were mining
serfs, and now support themselves chiefly by work in or for the
mines, and neariy 620,000 agriculturists, for the most part jnore
recent immigrants. The latter carry on agriculture on an extensive
scale, and export large quantities of com. The Bashkirs are chiefly
cattle-breeders, but of late they have been driven more "and mora
to tillage, owing to the appropriation by speculators of their exten-
sive pasture-lands. Bee-keeping is largely carried on, and huntiog
is still an important source of income to the Bashkirs. In the
north-east the trade in timber and the manufacture of various
wooden wares are largely engaged in by the peasantry. The mining
industry is advancing, notwithstanding many obstacles (see vol.
xxi. p. 85); the iron-works of Ztatoust especially have a wide
reputation. Flour-mills, distilleries, and tanneries come next in
importance. The exports of corn, linseed, timber, wooden wares,
metals, tallow, hides, and cattle are considerable, and trade is
active, especially at the fans of Menzelinsk, Ufa, and Zlatoust.
There are six administrative districts, the chief towns of which
(with populations in IS84) are— Ufa (25.660), Bclebei (1200). Birsk
(8000). Menzelinsk (6100), Steriitamak (8940). and Ztatoust (18,990).
The loading places Tchetny and Berozovka on the Kama, and several
iron and copper works (Satkinsk. Yurezafi. Katav-Ivanovsk, about
6000 inhabitants each) ought also to be mentioned.
UFA, capital of the above government, is situated at the
confluence of the Ufa with the Byetaya, on high crab's
intersected by ravines, which are covered with gardens and
orchards. The better part of the town contains a few stone
buildings connected with the administration, two cathe-
drals, and a few churches ; the remainder is a scattered
aggregation of small wooden houses. There are two class-
ical gyhjnasiums for boys and girls, a theological seminary,-
and sftteral lower schools. The town has a few good hospi-
tals. The manufactures are insignificant in Ufa itself, but
there are several iron and copper works of importance
within the district Owing to the fertility of the neigh-
bouring regions, and the position of the town at the junc-
tion of two important rivers, the Ufa merchants carry on a
brisk export trade. The population has rapidly iiicreased
of late, reaching 25,660 in 1884.
Ufa was founded in 1574, when a fort was bnilt on the Byetaya,
three other forts being erected about the same time at Birsk,
Menzelinsk, and Berezovka, to connect Ufa with the Russian settle-
ments on the Kama, The wooden kreml of Ufa, protected by
wooden towers and an outer earthen wall, had to sustain the attacks
of the revolted Bashkirs and Russian serfs in 1662 and at later
dates; and in 1773 Tchika. one of the chiefs of the PugatchefT
revolt, besieged it for four months.
UGANDA, a country of eastern Central Atnca, to the
north-west of the Victoria Nyanza. It has an area of about
34,000 square miles, extending from 1° N. lat. to the
Kitangule river, and from 31° E. long, to the Nile. The
country bordering the lake and to the north-west is moun-
tainous, the mountains being arranged in low parallel
chains. The bills, covered with splendid timber and abun-
dant underwood, rise to a height of 400 feet above their
valleys, through which sluggish streams flow to the lake.
Farther north the country becomes a plain, and the eastern
portion of Uganda, between Rubaga and the Nile, consists
of undulating country, varied by deep narrow valleys. The
geological formation of the country is volcanic or metamor-
phic ; two or three feet of rich black alluvial soil form the
upper strata, covering a bed of red sandy clay, often 30
feet thick. In some places porcelain earth is foimd, as
vrell as large masses of mica. Ironstone is present in con-
siderable quantities, but as yet no other metals have been
discovered. The climate is mild, and the temperature re-
markably uniform throughout the year ; the thermometric
range is from 50° to 90° F. ; but the mean annual variation
IS only 20°. The annual rainfall is 50 inches, the greatest
amount of rain occurring in March, April, Jlav, and Sep.
tember, October, and November, when rain falls nearly
every day, thunderstorms being frequent.
The population of Uganda is about five millions. The men are tall
and well-built, and have good features and dark chocolate-coloured
skin, with woolly hair. The women in their youth are geod-
lookmg. The country is divided into three provinces— Uddu in the
south Singo in the west, and Changwe in tlic east, to which must
be added about 400 islands in the lake. The government of the
country is feudal, the king being nominally supreme. Succession
to the throne is hcredituy. but the successor is usually a minor
718
U G L — U H L
cftoset! by iliree haredif ary cTiiers, who witli the young king s mother
carry on the govcrnmerit- until he is of age. The reigning family
in Uganda is descended from th« Wahuma tribe ; the late king
Mtesa professed to trace back his descent to Kintu (or Ham), the
founder of tiie dynasty. The country is ruled by the king three
bcrcdifary cTuefs, and a council of minor chiefs,— two hereditary
chiefs aiid a certain proportion of the others being continually in
residence at Rubaga, the capital of the country. The laws are
strict, and the administi-ation of justice is conducted in an orderly
manner. There is no real taxation, but the people are compelled
^ render feudal service to all their superiors. The W aganda may
be divided into four classes, the lowest class being the slave popu-
lation, consisting of prisoners taken io war and their descendants ;
next come the " bachopi" or peasants, who form the mass of the
population ; the third class are the " batongoli." or chiefs, who are
recruited from the bachopi, but whose honours are not hereditary;
they receive theirraiik for distinguished bravery in the field or for
services rendered to the state, and they are the governros of the
villages. The highest class is that of the "bakungu," a superior
gradeof chiefs, all belonging to the "luchiko" or state council, and
being govemore of large districtsof land. The three great hereditary
chiefs belong to this class, and they are supreme governors of the
three great districts into which Uganda is.divided. The N\ aganda
are very warlike ; all adult males are compelled to serve m the army
when required, and the military organi2ation, having its head-
ouarters at the capital, ramifies throughout the whole land. Oa^-.e
is very plentiful : elephants, buffaloes, zebras, rhinoceroses wild
boars, tweke species of antelopes,' lions, leopards, jackals, foxes,
Iiyanas, hares, chimpanzees, and several species of monkeys inhabit
the forest. Snakes are numerous; hippopotami, crocodiles, and
otters abound in the lake and in the Nile, as also many water-rats.
The principal birds are parrots, guinea-fowl, owls, vultures, adju-
tants, goatsuckei-s, kites, eagles, ducks, geese, storks, cranes, herons,
"ulls, scariet flamingos, darters, the sacred and glossy ibis, and
Srilliantly coloured honey-birds. The principal insects are mos-
quitos, fleas, locusts, white and driver ants, and butterflies of many
species. The domestic animals are cows, goats, and a few sheep
and do's. The .Waganda live chiefly upon a vegetable diet, the
banana forming the staple food; it grows everywhere, and requires
little or no cultivation. The sweet poUto is the chief vegetable
cultivated, but coffee, sugar-cane, cassava, maize, sesame, millet,
tullabone, several species of beans, and two or three kinds of pump-
kins are grown to a small extent The-principal fruits are the mpafu
and a.spccies of amomum. Strangers have introduced wheat, rice,
guavas, papaws, pomegranates, tomatoes, onions, and radishes.
Wine is made from the banana tree, and is a staple drink. Butter
and cheese arealso made. A good deal of manufacture is carried
on, for the people are ingenious and clever workmen, and their
work is tasteful, neat, and exact. Two kinds of pottery, a coarse,
and a fine yariety, are manufactured in contiderable quantities.
The basket work is extremely good, and the metal work far superior
to any seen among the neighbouring tribes. The manufacture of
bark-cloths, in which most of the people are clothed, is very ex-
tensively carried on; and their wood-work and boat-building are of
'very superior quality. Tanning, dyeing, and bead-work employ
numbers of the people. There is not very wnch home Uado in
Uganda;.it is limited to the barter of native mannfactures. Several
limes a yi-ar "caravans arrive from Zanzibar, bringing calico, guns,
powder, files,. knives,&c. The standard value of any article is
reckoned by 100 cowries or an arm's length of caEco and beads ;
hoes, salt, and fish are also employed as mediums of excuange.
The language spoken in Uganda belongs to the great Bantu family,
and is very rich in words. It has ten classes of nouns, the noun
being the most important part of speech. Gnmmatical inflexions
are formed by prefixes ; the inflexions of verbs, adjectives, and
prouonns vary according to the class of the governing noun.
Adjectives agree with the substantive in number and case, and
always follow the npun. , There are personal, possessive, relative,
demonstrative, and interrogative pronouns, and several forms of
verbs. The Waganda are vvy good arithmeticians: The root of
all multiples is ten ; tallies are used as aids to the memory. The
people- are very musical ; their voices are clear and melodious, and
of considerable range. They have a great variety of tunes,—
lOrchestral, dance, and vocal music having distinct characteristics.
Th^mnsical instruments consist of harmonicons, rattles, drums,
horns, whistles', flutes, and harps. The Waganda have no images
or outward symbols of their gods ; and they think that the world
is ruled by spirits or demons, to whom Katonga, the great creator,
has deputed his power. They worship llukasa, the god of the lake ;
Naduala, the god of siiiall-pox ; Chiwuka and Nenda, the gods of
war; and several of the former jnonarchs of Uganda, who are be-
lieved to bo demi-gods. A thunder spirit is also invoked. The gods
of war are supposed to inhabit certain frees, and oflcrings are made
oto them before entering the war-path ; like ofl'erings are also made
lo the god of the lake before commencing a voyage upon its waters.
The Waganda are courteous, cleanly, given to hospitality, but
Sunken, and to a certain extent iod^lent Their standard of
morality, even judged by that of the surrounding tribes, is not
hifli. Human life is little respected ; they are untruthful and in-
decent. Unless moved by passion, they are not cruel; passionate,
they are not revengeful. Children are well treated, as are the aged
men. On account of the extei.sive prevalence of polygamj, women
occupy a somewhat low social grade. _
Uganda was first visited by Spcke and Grant m 18B0. and flie
country has since been visitwl by numerous Europeans, chiefly
missionaries. The. Church Missionary Society and the Roman
Catholics have mission stations in the countiy. In 1886 ?ome
forty of their converts were burnt at the stake, and in the same
year Bishop Hannington was murdered on the borders of the
country by the orders of King Mwanga.
See Speke'5 /oumo'. Grant's Vali across Afrita, Stanley"* TTinusri the Dari
Conlinenl anil Wilson and Fclkln's Uganda and the Egyptian Soudan. Also »
monograp'li " On the Waganda Tribe," by R. W. Felkin. in rrcc.Rot.Soc. Ed,
vol. liii., and an Oullittc Orammar of the Luganda Language^ by C. T- Milson.
• UGLITCH, a district town of Russia, in the government
of Yaroslavl, is situated on the upper Volga, principally on
its right bank, 67 miles to the west of the capital of the
province. Its historical remains are mostly associated with
the prinee Dmitri (see vol. xxi. p. 93). The wooden house
he occupied, a church of St Demetrius "on the Blood"
erected at the spot where he was killed, and a kiost on the
site of the convent where his mother was forcibly conse-
crated a nun,— all commemorate this chapter in the history
of the rule of the boiars at Moscow at the beginning of the
17th century. An old cathedral, erected in the 13th cen-
tury but subsequently restored, and containing the grave
of Prince Roman, recalls-a still earlier period of municipal
independence. Uglitch has now become a commercial and
industrial city with 11,930 inhabitants (1883), and has an
important trade, being one of the chief loading places on
the upper Volga. lU industries comprise the sewing of
sacks for corn and flour (about one million every year) and
the knitting of woollen socks j and it has a paper-mill,
distilleries, copper works, and linen factories. Corn, paper,
sausages (with which the name of Uglitch has long been
associated), candles, 4c., are shipped at the town.
UWitch is one of the oldest toft-ns of Russia ; its local annils go
as fa°r as back as the 9th century. Until the 14th century it mMn-
. tained its independence as a separate principality^ which extended
oVer eastern Tver, and elected its own princes. In 1329 the sons
of Prince Roman the Saint renouncSd their independence in favour
of Moscow, and fifty years later the Uglitch princes finally sold their
rights tp the great prince of Moscow. The Tartars plundered the
town during their invasions of 1237, 1293, and 1408. as also did
.the Lithuanians at a later date.
UGOLINO. See GiTERARDESCA and Pisa.
UGRIANS. See Finland, vol. ix. \i 219.
UHLAND, JoHANN LuDwiG(1787-18tj2), German poet,
was born at Tiibingen, on April 26, 1787. He studiedat
the universiiy of his native place, taking jurisprudence as
his special subject, but also devoting touch time to litera-
ture. Having graduated as a doctor of laws in IblO, he
went for some months to Paris ; and from 1812 to 18U
he worked at his profession in Stuttgart, in the bureau of
the minister of justice. He had begun his career as a poet
in 1807 and 1808 by contributing ballads and lyrics to
Seckcndorf's Musenalmanach- 3.nA in 1812 and 1813 he
wrote poems for the Poeiiscier Almanack and for the
Deuischer Dichterwald. In 1815 he collected his poems
in a volume entitled Gedkhte, which almost immediately
secured a wide circle of readers, and givts him his place in
German literature. To every new edition he added some
fresh poems J and the sixtieth edition, published in 18(5,
included a number of pieces found among his papers. He
wrote two dramatic works— i'nu?, Herzog mn. Sdiwaben
and Ludwig der £a{er— the former published in 1817, the
latter in 1819. These, however, are unimportant in com-
parison with his Gedichle. In some respects Uhland must
be classed with the writers of the romantic school, for^
like them, he found in the Middle Ages the subjects which
appealed most strongly to his imagination. But his style
has a precision, suppleness, and grace which sharply dis-
U J I — U L F
719
tinguish his most characteristic BTitings trom those of the
romantic poets. His best lyrics have the charm which,
belongs to the unaffected expression of delicate senti-
ment; and in almost all his ballads he displays a remark-
.able power of giving picturesque form to his conceptions of
-character. He was a man of pure and noble impulse, and
it was in presenting scenes which awaken love, or admira-
tion, or pity that he did the fullest justice to his powers.
Uhland's poetic sympathy with some characteristics of the
age of chivalry did not prevent bim from sharing the best
aspirations of his own time. He wrote manly poems in
defence of freedom, and in the slates assembly of Wiirtem-
berg he played a distinguished part as one of the most
vigorous and consistent of the liberal members. In 1829
he was made a professor, at Tubingen university, of German
literature and the German language, but he resigned this
appointment in 16.33, when it was found to be incom-
{latible with bis political duties. In 1848 he became a
member of the Frankfort parliament, in which he sat as
one of the most respected members of the liberal party.
Uhland was not only a poet and politician ; he was also
an ardent student of the history of literature. In 1812 he
published an interesting essay on Das ollfraTizbsische Epos;
and ten years afterwards this was followed by an admirable
work on Walther von der Vogelweide. He was also the
author of an elaborate study of Der Mytkiis von Thor nach
nordischen Quellen (1836), and he formed a valuable col-
lection of Alte hoch- und niederdeuUcke Volkslied&r, which
appeared in 1844-45. He died on November 13, 1862.
After his death his prose works were reprinted, with some
additions, under the general title Uhland's Schriften zur
Geschichte der Dichtung UTid Sage (1865-73), and an
edition of his poems and dramas^ in three volumes, was
issued in 1863.
See Liebert, Ludxcig UUand, eme Skiae (\&6i)\ Mayer, Litdxoig
Uhland, seine Frcufide und Zeilgcnossai (1867); and Licdung
Uhland's Leben, aus dcssen i^aehUiss und aus eigener Eifahrung
zusamtnengesUlU wm seiner IVilvx (1874).
UJIJI,.a town in eastern Central Africa, of considerable
importance, also known by the name of Kavele, is situated
on the eastern chores of Lake Tanganyika, in 4° 55' S. fat.
and 30° 5' E. long. It is the chief town on that lake, and
is the centre of a brisk trade in ivory. Formerly it was a
great slave-market. The town is of a straggling character,
Arab houses of sun-dried bricks being mingled with native
huts. The population, which fluctuates considerably, is
very mixed, being composed of Arabs and the representa-
tives of numerous Central African tribes. Ujiji has been
visited by various European travellers, who have made it
their headquarters, and it was here that Stanley found
Livingstone, on October 28, 1871. Opinions vary as to
the salubrity of its climate, but the balance of testimony
appears to prove that during the greater part of the year
it is very unhealthy.
UJJAIN, or OojEur, a town in the native state of
Gwalior, central India, situated on the right bank of the
Sipra, in 23° 11' 10" N. lat. and 75° 51' 45" E. long., 1698
feet above sea-leveL In ancient times Ujjain was the
great and famous capital of MAlwA, one of the seven sacred
cities of the Hindus, and the spot which marked the first
meridian of Hindu geographers. Though much decayed,
it is still a large and populous city, with considerable
•commerce. The modem city is surrounded on all sides
by an almost uninterrupted belt of groves and gardens.
In 1881 the population of the town numbered 32,932.
Its trade consists chiefly in the export of opium and the
import of European goods, especially cotton fabrics.
UKRAINE ("frontier "), the name formerly giyen to a
district of European Russia, now comprising the govern-
ments of Keabkoff, Kieff, Podoua, and Poltava {q.v.).
ULCER. See Soegery, vol. xxii. p. 683.
ULFILAS (31 1-381), the apostle of Christianity to the
Gothic race, and, through his translation of the Scriptures
into Gothic, the father of Teutonic literature, was born
among the Goths of the trans-Danubian provinces in the
year 311.' There is a tradition that his ancestors were
Christian captives from Sadagolthina in Cappadocia, who
had been carried off to the lands beyond the Danube in
the Gothic raid of 267 , but the evidence on wliich this
rests is inadequate. An authoritative record of the outlines
of his life has only been discovered within the last fifty
years, in a writing of Auxentius, his pupil and companion.
At an early age Ulfilas was sent, either as an envoy
or as a hostage for his tribe, to Constantinople, pro-
bably on the occasion of the treaty arranged in 332.
During the preceding century Christianity had been
planted sporadically among the Goths beyond the Danube,
through the agency in part of Christian captives, many of
whom belonged to the order of clergy, and in part of
merchants and traders. Ulfilas may therefore have been
a convert to Christianity when he reached Constantinoj^le.
But it was here probably that he came into contact with thd
Arian doctrines which gave the form to. his later teaching,
and here that he acquired that command over the Greek
and Latin tongues which equipped him for his labours
as a translator. For some time before 341 he worked as
a " lector " or reader of the Scriptures, probably among
his own countrymen in Constantinople, or among those
attached &sfcederati to the imperial armies in Asia Minor.
From this work he was called to return as missionary
bishop to his own country, being ordained by Eusebius of
Nicomedia and "the bishops who were with him" in 341.
This ordination of Ulfilas as missionary bishop by the
chiefs of the semi- Arian party is at once an indication of
their determination to extend their influence by active
missionary enterprise and evidence that Ulfilas was now,
if he had not been before, a declared adherent of the Arian
or semi- Arian party. He was now thirty years of age, and
his work as " bishop among the Goths " covered the re-
maining forty years of his life. For seven of these years
he wrought among the Visigoths beyond the Danube, till
the success which attended his labours, and the growing
numbers of his flock, drew down the persecution of the still
pagan chief of the tribe. This "sacrilegus judex "has
been identified with Athanaric, a later persecutor, probably
•without sufficient ground. The persecution was so severe
that, to save his flock from extinction or dispersion, Ulfilas
decided to withdraw both himself and his people from its
range. With the consent of the emperor Constantius, he
led them across the Danube, " a great body of the faith-
ful," and settled In Moesia at the foot of the range of
Hcemus, and near the site of the modern Tirnova (348).
Here they developed into a peace-loving pastoral people.
The life of Ulfilas during the following thirty-three
years is marked only by one recorded incident, his visit to
Constantinople in 360, to attend the council convened by
the Arian or Homoian party. His work and influence were
not, however, confined to his own immediate flock, but
radiated by means of his writings (homilies and treatises),
and through the disciples he despatched as missionaries,
among all the tribes of the Gothic stock beyond the
Danube. By this time probably he had made some pro-
gress with his version of the Scriptures, and copies of
parts of it would begin to circulate. Thus the church
beyond the Dan.ube, which had not been extinguished on
Ulfilas's withdrawal, began to grow once more in numbers
and importance, and once more had to undergo the fires oi
persecution. Catholic missionaries had not been wanting
in the meanwhile, and in the indiscriminate persecution by
> Ki-aift fi>"« S13 as the date, Waitz 318.
720
U L M — U L M
Athanaric betweeu 370 and 375 Catholics and Arians
stood and fell side by side. The religious quanel either
accentuated, or was accentuated by, political differences,
and the riral chiefs, Athanaric and Frithigern, appeared
as champions of Paganism and Christianity respectively.
Then followed the negotiations with the emperor Valens,
the general adhesion of the Visigoths under Frithigern to
Ariau Christianity, the crossing of the Danube by himself
and a host of his followers, and the troubles which cul-
minated in the battle of Adrianople and the death of
Valens (378). The part played by Ulfilas in these troub-
lous times cannot be ascertained with certainty. It may
have been he who, as a " presbyter Christian! ritus " con-
ducted negotiations with Valens before the battle of Adri-
anople ; but that he headed a previous embassy asking for
leave for the Visigoths to settle on Koman soil, and that he
then, for political motives, professed himself a convert to the
Arian creed, favoured by the emperor, and drew with him
the whole body of his countrymen, — these and other similar
stories of the orthodox church historians appear to be
without foundation. The death of Valens, followed by
the succession and the early conversion to Catholicism of
Theodosius, dealt a fatal blow to the Arian party within
the empire. Ulfilas lived long enough to see what the
end must be. Hardships as well as years must have com-
bined to make him an old man, when in 381 he was sent
for to Constantinople. The emperor had summoned hira,
for what purpose cannot be clearly ascertained. A split
seems to have taken place among the Arians at Constan-
tinople. Party riots were too familiar there, and a fierce
dispute over a theological dogma, however abstruse, placed
the peace of the city, if not the security of the palace, in
jeopardy. Ulfilas was summoned to meet the innovatm's,
and either by argument or by influence to induce them
to surrender the opinion which caused the dispute. His
pupil Auxentius describes how, " in the name of God," he
set out upon his way, hoping to prevent the teaching of
these new heretics from reaching " the churches of Christ
by Christ committed to his charge." No sooner had he
reached Constantinople than he fell sick, "having pondered
much about the council," and before he had put his hand
to the task which had brought him he died, probably in
January 381. A few days later there died, also in Con-
stantinople, his old enemy and persecutor, Athanaric.
The Arianism of Ulfilas was a fact of pregnant consequence for
his people, and indirectly for the empire. It had been l)is Urdong
faith, as we learn from the opening words of his own testament —
*'Ego Ulfilas semper sic credidL" If, as seems probable from the
circumstances of his ordination, he was a Semi-Arian and a follower
of Eusebius in 341, at a later period of his life be departed from
this position, and vigorously opposed the teaching of his former
leader. He appeai-s to have joined the Homoian party, which took
shape and actjuired influence before the council of Constantinople
in 360, where he adhered with the rest of the council to the creed
of-Ariminum, with the addendum that in future the terms inriffraais
and ovffia should be excluded from Christological definitions.
Thus we learn from Auxentius that he condemned Homoousians
and HoiBoioiisians alike, adoptingforliimself the Homoian formula,
"filium similem esse patri suo." This Arian form of Christianity
was impaHanby Ulfilas and his disci[des to most of the tribes of
the Gothic stock, and persisted among them, in spite of the perse-
cution, hatred, and political disasters it involved, for two centuries.
The other legacy bcipieathed by Ulfilas was of less questionable
value. His version of the Scriptures (see GoTIIIC Language, vol.
X. p. 8o2) is his greatest monument as a way-brcakcr and a scholar.
By it he became the fiist to raise a barbarian tongue to the dignity
of a literary language; and the skill, knowledge, and adaptive
'.■ability it displays make it the crowning testimony of his powers
ii3 well as of his devotion to his work.
■ The personal qualities of the man may be inferred from his pupil's
description of him as "of most upright conversation, truly a con-
fessor of Christ, a teacher ot piety, and a preacher of truth, — a man
whom I am wi; competent to praise according to his merit, yet
Utogetlier keep silent I dare not."
Literature.— \Vallz. Das Ltbm dti VtfiJat, ISIO; Kraflt, KirckenyescMchte der
PtutK/un VolkerfAbih. L, 1834; lJ.,arUcle "Ulftlns," in Heizog'a Rcctenci/lto-
padie vol xvf., 1885; Id., De Foulibus CtfUx Arinnismii DessvII. Dtis Lt^en tfc*
i'lfilas, 1360; C. A. S'.ott. Ulfilas, ApoUl'e of the Colin, ISM. See also •• Gothi*
Lanpuige" under Goths, (C. A. S.)
ULM, an ancient and important commercial town ia
Wiirtemberg, and an imperial fortress of the first class, is
situated cu the left bank of the Danube, in a fertile plaii»
at the foot of the Swabian Alps, 45 miles to the south-east
oi Stuttgart and 63 miles to the north-west of Munich.
The town, quaintly built with narrow and confined streets,
still preserves the dignified and old-fashioned appearance
of an ancient imperial town, and contains many mediaeval
buildings, both of historic and of artistic interest. Auioolj
these, besides numerous handsome private houses, are the
town-house, of the 16th century, in the Transition stylu
from late Gothic to Renaissance ; the Kornhaus and
market-buildings ; the Ehingerhaus or Neubronnerhaus,
now containing the industrial museum ; the " new build-
ing," erected in 1603 on the site of a palace of Charle-
magne; and the commandery of the Teutonic order, built
in 1712-18 on the site of a habitation of the order dating-
from the 13th century. By far the most important anil
conspicuous building in Ulm, however, is the magni.iceiit
early Gothic cathedral, next to the cathedral of Cologne
the largest church in Germany, and capable of containing
30,000 people. Begun in 1377, and carried on at inter-
vals till the 16th century, the building was long left un-
finished; but in 184-1 the work of restoration and com-
pletion was undertaken, and has steadily progressed ever
since. Ulm cathedra! has double aisles and a pentagonal
apsidal choir, but no transepts. Its length (outside
measurement) is 464 feet, its breadth 159 feet; the nave
is 136 feet high and 47i wide; the aisles, which are
covered with rich net-vaulting, are 68 feet in height. The
m.assive and richly decorated square tower in the centre of
the west facade, for centuries terminated by a temporary
spire, is now being completed according to the original
plans, by the addition of an octagonal story and a tall
open spire, which is to be carried up to the height of 534
feet. The towers of the choir have also been rebuilt in
thfe course of the present restoration ; they are 282 feet
high. The interior, which is unusually well lighted, pro-
duces an impression of much dignity from the great height
of the nave, the absence of obtrusive decoration, and the
massive manner in which the walls and piers are treated.
It contains some fine stained glass, the largest organ ii>
Germany (1856), and a number of interesting old paint-
ings and carvings by Syrlin, Engelberger, and other masters
of the Swabian school. The cathedral belongs to the Prc>-
testant Church. Trinity Church dates from 1017-21 ; and
there are also a Roman Catholic church and a modern
synagogue in the towu. The Danube, joined by the Iller
just above the town and by the Blau just below, becomes
navigable at this point, so that Ulm occupies the import-
ant commercial position of a terminal river-port. The
trade, especially in wood and grain, has an upward tend-
ency ; and the Ulm market for leather and cloth is also
rising in importance. Ulm is famous for its vegetables
(especially asparagus), barley, beer, pipe-bowls, and sweet
cakes (UlmerZiickerbrot). Bleaching, brewing, and brass-
founding are carried on, as well as a large nii.'scellany of
manufactures, including hats, metal goods, agricultural
implements, tobacco and cigars, cement, paper, and chem-
icals. The population in 1886 was 33,611.
The various routes which converge at Ulm have made it at all
times a strategic point of great importauce, and it has long ficeii .i
fortress of the first rank. In 1844-59 the German Confederation
carefully fortified it with walls, ramparts, and ditches, and in 1876
the new German empire added a very comprehensive outer girdle
of detached forts, culminatiug in the powerful citadel of Wilhclms-
burg. The defensive works embrace also the B.ivarian towu of
NeuUlm (7S23 inhabitants), on the opposite bank of the Danube,
united with tho older city by two stone bridges. Ulm is thus the
basis of operations for the German army behind the Black Forest,
r L P — U L T
»nd can easilv shelter a force of 100,000 men : its peace garrison
is 5600.
Ulm is mentioned as early as the year Si*. It subsequently
became a free imperial city, and the leading town in Swabia. In
the 15th century it attained the summit of its prosperity, and
roled over a district of many square miles, with a population, rural
and urban, of about 60,000. Towards the end of the Middle Ages
it frecjuently appears at the head of various Swabian leagues. In
1530 It adopted the Augsburg Confession. In 1803 it passed to
Bavaria, and in 1810 to Wurtemberg. In 1805 General Mack,
with 33,000 Austrians, capitulated to Napoleon at Ulm. Ultn is
remarkable in the history of German literature as the spot wljere
the " meistersanger " lingered Ipngest, preserving, without text
and without notes, the traditional lore of their craft. In 1830
there were twelve " meistersanger" alive at I'lra; but in JS39 the
foai survivors formally made over their insignia and guild property
to a modem singing society, and closed the record of "ileister-
gesang " in Germany. The last formal meeting of the Nuremberg
" meister " took place in 1770.
ULPL^JfUS, Do.MiTius, Roman jurist, was of Tyrian
ancestry, bat the time and place of his birth are unknown.
He made his first appearance in public life as assessor in
the auditorium of Papinian and member of the council of
Septimius Severus ; under Caracalla he was master of the
requests. Ellagabalus deprived him of his functions and
banished him from Rome, but on the accession of Alex-
ander (222) he was at once recalled and reinstated, and
finally became the emperor's chief adviser and prsefectus
prffitoria His curtailment of the privileges granted to the
pratorian guard by Elagabalus provoked their enmity, and
several times he only narrowly escaped their vengeance ;
ultimately, in 228, he was murdered in the palace, in the
cotu^e of a riot between the soldiers and the mob.
Ulpian'8 period of literary activity extended from about 211 to
222 A.p. His works include Ad Saiinum, a commentary on the
juaciviU in over fifty books; Ad Edictum, a commentary on the
E<Mc^in eighty-three books; collections of Opinions, Responses,
and Disputations ; books of Rules and Institutions ; treatises on
the functions of the different magistrate.<i,— one of them, the De
C^ieio Procmrulis Libri X., being a comprehensive exposition of
the criminal law; monographs on various statutes, on testamentary
trusts, and a variety of other works. His writings altogether
have supplied to Justinian's Digest about a third of its contents
and his commentary on the Edict alone about a fifth. As an
author he is characterized by doctrinal exposition of a high order,
ludinousness of criticism, and lucidity of arrangement, style, and
language. Ihmitii Ulpiani Fragmenia, consisting of twenty-nine
titles, were first edited by Tilius (Paris, 1549). There are niodem
editions by Hugo (Berlin, 1834) and Booking (Bonn, 1836) the
latter containing fragments of the first book of the InstUutiones
discovered by Endlicher at Vienna in 1835.
ULRICI, Heejia>.--j (1S06-1884), one of the most
active philosophical writers in Germany since Hegel's
death, was born at Pforten, Prussia, on March 23, 1806.
Educated for the law, he gave up his profession upon the
death of his father in 1829, and after four yeai3 of further
Btjidy, devoted to literature, philosophy, and science,
qualified as a university lecturer. In 1834 he was called
to a professorship at Halle, where he remained till his
^tb on the 11th January 1884 His first works were
in the domain of literary criticism. His treatise On Shake-
tpeare's Dramatic Art (1839) has been translated into
EnglisL In 1841 he published a work Ueber Princip u.
Met}iode der HegeUdten Philoiopkie, in which he subjected
Hegel's system to a severe criticism. The critical attack
was continued in the Grundprincip der PhUoiophie
(1845-6), which at the same time expounds his own
speculative position ; to this must be added as comple-
mentary his System der Logik (1852). His later works,
dealing with perennial problems of philosophy, have found
a more extended circle of readers. Such are Glavhen und
Wtssen (1858), GoU und die Nalur (1862, 3d ed 1875)
Gott und der ifev^h (2 vols., 1866-73, 2d ed. 1874)!
«om 1847 onward Ulrici was associated with the younger
Fichte in the editorship of the ZeUsrJirift fur PhUosophif
His philosophical standpoint may be characterized as a reaction
from the pantheutic tendency of Hegel's idealistic rationalism
r2i
towards a more pronouncedly theistic position. The H^elian
identity of being and thought' is also abandoned and the truth of
realism acknowledged, an attempt being made to exhibit idealism
and realism as respectively incomplete but mutually complementary
systems. Ulrici's later works, while expi-essing the same views,
ore largely occupied in proving the existence of God and the soul
from the basis of scientific conceptions, and in opposition to th»
materialistic current of thought then popular in Germany
ULSTER See Irela-vd.
ULTRAMARINT;, a magnificent blue pigment, which
occurs in nature as a proximate component of Lapis La-
ZCLI (qv.). Lapis lazuli has long been known as a precious
stone, and highly valued as such, and as early at least aa
the 1 Itb century the art of extracting a blue pigment from
it was practised. From the beginning of the 16th century
this pigment began to be imported into Europe from " over
the sea," as acurrum vltramarinum. To extract it, the
stone, after having been powdered coarsely, is heated to
redness and thrown into cold water to facilitate its con-
version into a very fine powder, which is next treated with
dilute acetic acid to remove the carbonate of lime which
is present in almost all specimens. The insoluble blue
residue is mixed up into a "dough " with a compositioo of
resin, pitch, and linseed oil, and this dough is then kneaded
uoder water, which is renewed as long as it runs off with
a blue colour. The blue liquor, when allowed to stand,
deposits a fine precipitate, which is collected, washed, dried]
and sold as ultramarine. As the yield amounts to only 2
to 3 per cent, of the mineral used, it is not surprising to
learn that the pigment used to be weighed up with gold.
It was valued chiefly on account of its brilliancy of "tone
and its inertness in opposition to sunlight, oil, and slaked
lime (in fresco-painting).
Lapis lazuli has the composition of a double silicate of lime and
soda combined with sulphates and sulphides of the metals named.
Of the many analyses made (compare Lahs Lazlli) we quote the
following, carried out by Schultz in Rammelsberg's lalwratoiy —
combined sulphur (not SO3), 3 16; combined sulphuric acid, SOs
5-67; silica, 4326 ; alumina, 20 22 , oxide of iron, calculated as
FcjOj, 4-20 ; lime, 14 73 ; soda, 876.
In 1814 Tassaer observed the spontaneous formation of a blue
compound, very similar to ultramarine, if not identical with it, in a
soda-furnace at St Gobain, which caused the "Sociite pour 1 En-
eonragement dindustrie" to offer a prize for the artificial production
of the precious colour. The problem was solved almost simultane-
ously by Guimet and by Chrisrian Gmclin, then professor of chem '
istry in Tubingen ; but while Guimet kept his process a secret (it
has indeed never become known) Gmelin published his, and thus
became the onginator of an industry which flourishes to this day
chiefly in Germany. There are very few ultramarine works in other
countries, and none, as far as we know, in Great Britain. 'The raw
materials used in the manufacture are— (1) iron.free kaolin, or some
other kind of pure clay, which should contain its silic-i and alumina
as neariy as possible in the proportion of 2SiOj . AI.O, demanded
by the formula assigned to ideal kaolin (a deficit of silica, how
ever, it appears can be made up for by addition of the calculated
weight of finely divided silica), (2) anhydrous sul].hate of soda .
(3) anhydrous carbonate of soda ; (4) sulphur (in the state of
powder) ; and (5) powdered charcoal or relatively ashfrec coal, or
colophony in lumps. The numerous modes of manufacture may
be viewed as modifications or combinations of three processes.
(1) In the /t'uremierg process the soda is used as sulphate, or
partly as such and partly as carbonate. The following recipe gives |
an idea of the proportions in which the materiak are used —kaolin I
(calculated as anhydrous matter) 100 parts; calciped sulphate of I
soda 83 to 100 (or 41 or sulphate and 41 of carbonate) ; charcoal 17;
powdered sulphur 13. These ingredients arc mixed most inti-
mately ; they are then rammed tight into fire-clay crucibles and
kept at a nearly white heat for 7 to 10 hours, access of air being
prevented as far as possible. The product obtained is a greyish or
yellowish green mass, which is soaked in and washed with water ;
the porous residue is ground very fine in mills, again washed, dried,'
and again ground in the dry state and passed through sieves. Tlie
product at this stage has a green colour, and is sometimes sold as
' ' green ultramarine, " although it has not a high sunding amongst
green pigments. For its conversion into blue ultramarine it is
heated with sulphur in the presence of air to a relatively low tem-
perature. Of the various apparatus used for this important stage
of the manufacture, the e-isiest to describe i? a large mufBe, heated
trom the outside. On its floor the green ultramarine is spread out
to a depth of 2' to 3 inches, and heated (with closed doois) to a
722
U L U — U M B
tcraperatme nt which sulphur powder when thrown in catches fire
spontaneously. This temperature heing maintained, a sliovelful of
sulphur is thrown in and allowed to burn off while the mass is
being constantly agitated with iron rakei-s. Another dose of sul-
phur is then added, and so on until a sample taken out is found to
have come up to the hifjhest attainable biilliancy and depth of blue.
The product is then lixiviated with water, which removes a deal of
sulphate of soda formed in the process ; it is then ground up very
fine, and finally subjected to clutriation to produce a graduated .series
of ultramarines of ditferent degrees of fineness. In some works the
process of sulphuration is divided into two or more periods, after
each of which the product is washed, dried, and ground before being
returned to the muffle to produce a higher degree of homogeneity.
(2) In the carbonate of soda process the soda is used solely, or at
least principally, in the carbonate form. The following is one of
many recipes :— kaolin (calculated as anhydrous matter) 100 ; car-
bonate of soda 100; charcoal 12; sulphur 60. The mixture is
beated in a reverbei-atory furnace to form in the first instance a
■white mass, which is so porous that it readily passes, by oxidation,
into green and partly even into blue ultramarine. Green ultra-
marine, saleable as such, cannot be produced in this manner. The
balf-blue product is finished by sulphuration pretty much as ex-
plained aWove for the Nuremberg process. Well-made soda-ash
ultramarine has a richer colour than the Nuremberg vaiiety.
(3) Silica ultrajnariiie is soda-ash ultramarine in whose prepara-
tion a quantity of finely divided silica, equal to 5 to 10 per cent
of the weight of the kaolin, has been added. It is distingnislicd
by a reddish tinge, which is the more fully developed the greater
the proportion of added silica It is more highly proof against
the action of alum solution than non-siliceons ultramarine is.
Sinc« 1873 the Nuremberg works have been producing four
varieties of magnificently violet ultramarine. The mode of-raanu-
facture has not transpired. At the Paris Exhibition in 1867 a mag-
nificent block of ultramarine exhibited by the Kaiserslautern works
attracted attention. In its manufacture the roasting (blueing) pro-
of^ is said to have been continued for three weeks.
Artificial, like natural, ultramarine has a magnificently blue
colour, which is not affected by light nor by contact with oil or
lime as used in painting. Hydrochloric acid at once bleaches it
with liberation of sulphuretted hydrogen gas and milk of sulphur.
The natural pigment is proof against dilute acetic acid and solution
o! alura ; the artificial pigment is even alumproot only in a higher
or lower relative sense. Hence there is room for progress in one
direction at least. The composition of the pigment is quite similar
to that of lapis lazuli ; but tiie constitution of both is still a chem-
ical enigma. It is remarkable that even a small addition of zinc-
white (oxide of zinc) to the reddish varieties especially causes a
considerable diminution in the intensity of the colour, .while dilu-
tion with artificial precipitated sulphate of lime (" annalin ") or
sulphate of baryta ( 'blanc fix") acts pretty much as one would
€xpect Ultramarine being very cheap (it sells at 7d. to lOd. per lb),
it is largely used for wall painting, the printing of paper hangings
and calico, Jtc, and also as a corrective for the yellowish tinge
often present in things meant to be white, such as linen, paper,
&c Large quantities are used in the manufacture af ytaper, and
especially for producing that kind of pale blue writing paper which
is 80 popular in Great Britain. Only the very finest uUramarine
can be used for paper tinging, because the least admixture of coarse
particles becomes visible in the paper as dark spots or stains.
ULUGH BEG, Mirza Mohammed ben Shah Rok
{1394-1449), astronomer, grandson of Timur ('/.!■.), suc-
ceeded his father as prince of Samarkand in 1147, after
having for years taken part in the government, and was
murdered in 1449 by liis eldest .son. He occupied himself
with astronomical pursuits, and erected an observatory at
Samarkand, from which were issued tables of the sun,
oioon, and planets, with an interesting introduction, which
throws much light on the trigonometry and astronomical
methods then in use (Prolcc/omenes des Tables Aslronomi-
quts rVO-uloug Beg, ed. by Sedillot, "Paris, 1847, and trans-
lated by the same, 1853). The serious errors which he
found in the Arabian star catalogues (which were simply
copied from Ptolemy, adding the effect of precession to t!ie
longitudes) induced him to redetermine the positions of
992 fixed stars, to which he added 27 stars from Al Silfi's
catalogue, which were too far south to be observed at
Samarkand. This catalogue, the first original one since
Ptolemy, was edited by Th. Hyde at Oxford in ?665
(Tahulx Longitudinis el Latitudinis Slellarum Fixai-um ex
Observatione Ulugheigld), and in 1843 by Baily in vol. xiii.
of the Memoirs of the Royal Aat-onrimlerl -Society.
ULVERSTON, a market-town in the north-west of Lan-'
cashire, England, is picturesquely situated near Morecambo
Bay, on the borders of the Lake district, 9 miles north-
east of Barrow-in-Furness, and 256 north-west of Loudon.
The town bears small evidence of its great antiquity. The
principal streets branch from the market-place, ^and the
houses built of stone are generally rough-cast and whitened.
A rivulet flows through the town. The church of St Mary,
founded in 1 1 1 1, retains the south door of the original build-
ing in the Transition style, but the greater portion of the
structure is Perpendicular, of the time of Henry VIII. It
consists of chancel, nave, aisles, south porch, and embattled
western tower, and contains an altar-tomb with recum-
bent figure oL Walter Sandys of Conishead, dated 1588.
After the destruction of Furness Abbey, Ulverston suc-
ceeded Dalton as the most important town in Furness, but
the rapid rise of Barrow within recent years has relegated
it to quite a secondary place. Formerly it had a consider'-
able trade in linens, checks, and ginghams, but this has
greatly fallen off. It possesses, however, large iron' aod
steel works (North Lonsdale Iron and Steel Company), a
large chemical work, an extensive paper manufactory, a
bolt manufactory, breweries, tanyards, and wooden hoop
manufactories. The population of the urban sanitary dis-
trict (area 3120"acres) in 1871 was 7607, and in 1881 it
was 10,008.
Early iii the 12th century the lordship of Ulverston came into
the possession of Stephen, earl of Boulogne, afterwards -king of
England, by whom it was presented to the monks of Furnes*
Abbey as part of the endowment In 1W6 the ville of Ulverston
was giunted by the abbot of Furness to William de Lancaster, first
bai-on of_Kendal. In 1280 it obtained the charter of a market
The town became escheated to the abbot of Furness as thief lord
in 1342, but this escheatraent was suspended by Edward II. ia
favour of John de Coupland, who captured David II. of Scotland at
the battle of Dufham. After his death it reverted to the abbey.
It is now in the possession of the family of Buccleuch.
ULWAR, an alternative form of Ai.wae (?.».).
ULYSSES. See Odysse0s.
UMA^ff, a district town of Russia, m the south of th«
government of Kieff, is now a small industrial and trading
town, with 15,400 inhabitants, many of whom are Jews,
who carry on an active trade in. the export of corn, spirits,
(fee. It has a remarkable park (290 acres), planted in 1796
by the orders of Count Potocki, in connexion with which a
gardening school is maintained.
Umaa was founded towards the beginning of the 17th century
as a fort against the raids of the Tartars, The Cossacks of the
Ukraine, who kept it, revolted against their Polish rulers abont
1665, and had to sustain a fierce siege. In 1674 it was plundered
and most of its inhabitants murdered by the Ukrainians and Turks,
during the wars for the hetmanship. In 1712 its last inhabitanta
were transferred by Peter I. to the left bank of the Dnieper. But
by the end of the 18th century, when' it again became the property
of the Potockis, it was repeopled and became one of the busiest
trading towns of Little Russia. In 1788, when the Coasaicks re-
volted anew against their Polish serf proprietors, they took Umaa
and murdered most of its inhabitants.
UMBALLA, an alternative form of AmbIlA (j.w.).
UMBER. See Pigments.
UMBRELLA now means a portable protector from
rain, while the name parasol is given to the generally
smaller, lighter, and more fanciful article carried by ladies
as a sun-shade. But primarily the umbrella (pmbrelta, Ital.
dim. from Lat. umbra, shade) was a sun-shade alone, — its
original home having been in hot brilliant climates. In
Eastern countries from the earliest times the umbrella was
one of the insignia of royalty and power. On the
sculptured remains of ancient Nineveh and Egypt there
are representations of kings and sometimes of le-sser
potentates going in procession with an umbrella carried
over their heads ; and throughout Asia the umbrella had,
and still has, something of the same significance. The
Mahralt.a princes of India had among their titles " lord cf
/
U M B — U M B
723
the umbrella." In 1S55 the king of Burmah in addressing
thegoveroor-general of India termed himself " the monarch
who reigns over tlie great umbrella-wearing chiefs of the
Eastern countries." The baldachins erected over ecclesi-
astical chairs, altars, and portals, and' the canopies of
thrones and pulpits, itc, are in their origin closely related
to umbrellas, and have the same symbolic significance. In
-each of the basilicao churches of Rome there still bangs a
-large umbrella.
Among the Greeks and Romans the umbrella (o-Kias,
VKidSdov, umbraculum, tutiMla) was used by ladies, while
the carrying of it by men was regarded as a sign of
■effeminacy. Probably in these southern climes it never
went out of use, and we find from allusions by Montaigne
that in his day its employment as a sunshade was quite
common in Italy. The umbrella was not unknown in
England in the 17th century, and was already used as a
raia protector. Michael Drayton, writing about the be-
ginning of the 1 7 th century, says, speaking of doves : —
" And, like umbrellas, with their feathers
Shield you in all sons of weathers."
Although it was the practice to keep an umbrella in the
■coffeehouses early in the IStli century, its use cannot have
been very familiar, for in 1752 Colonel Wolfe, writing
from Paris, mentions the carrying of them there as a
•defence against both rain and sun, and wonders that they
are not introduced into England. The traveller Jonas
Hanway, who died in 1786, is credited with having been
the first Englishman who habitually carried an umbrella.
That practice he began thirty years before bis death ; at
first be was singular, and his habit was derided, but he
iived to see bis example commonly followed.
The umbrella as at first used, basej on its Kastern prototype,
was a heavy ungainly article wliiijli diJ not lioUl well to;;(;fIicv, anj
no little ingenuity has been exercised to bring it into the elegant,
compact, and strong form which is now i)uite common. The early
umbrella had a long handle, with libs of wli.ilebone or cane, very
rarely of metal, an.d stretchers of cone. The joiutingof the ribs
and s'retchers to the stick and to each other wnsvciy rough and
imperfect. The covering material consisted of oiled silk or cotton,
heavy in sub.^tance, and liable to stick together in the folds.
Cinghara soon came to be substiluti'd for the oiled cloth, and in
1848 ^S'illiam Sangster patented the use of alpac.ias an umbrella
toveriog material. One of the mo^t notable inventions for com-
1>iDiDg lightness, strength, and elasticity in the ribs of umbrellas
-«aa the "Paragon "rib patented ly Sanu'.el Fox in 1S52. It is
formed of a thin strip of steel roUeil into a U or trough section, a
form which gives great strength for the weight of metal. Tlie use
■of such ribs, combined with the notched rings and runners which
give a separate hinge and joint to e.icU rib aiul stretcher, an 1 with
the thin but tough covering materials now in use, h.is iMinL-ipiilly
contributed to the Strength, lightness, .Tud elegance which ordiu.ivv
umbrellas new present. Umbrella silk is principally lu.ide at
Lyons and Cicfcld ; but much of it is so loaded in dyeing that it
cuts readily at llic folds. Te.Ttures of pure silk or of silk aud
alpaca mixed have better wear-resisting properties.
UMURIA COfxISptK^, 'O/iySp.Koi', OiV/3/)oi, Tmbri). The
«arly Greeks applied the name '0/j/3/riK>; to all central and
northern Italy. Herodotus (iv. 49) speaks of it somewhat
vaguely, as if it extended up to the Alps. The Umbrians
probably extended across central Italy from sea to sea
Jtown as far as Latium. Plioy (iii. 13, 19) tells us that the
Uiiibri were considered the most anci^^nt nation of Italy
(.■intiquissiina gens ItalL-e), by which he probably means,
r.f the Italian stock. The Greek writers included under
the name of Umbria the district known in later times
as I'icenum. Pseudo^Scylax makes Umbria march with
Sanininm, and describes Ancona as a city of Umbria. The
Umbrians seem to have found the Siculi and Liburni
in occupation of the land into which thej- advanced, the
former holding the jiarts lying towards the interior, the
latter people the district along the .Adriatic. The Unilirians
%vere one of the chiof [icoplos oi that branch of the Indo-
European family which had entered Italy from the north
and driven out and absorbed the older inhabitants. 1'- ey
were more closely connected with the Samnites and Oscans
than with the Latin stock, as is shown by their language.
Their possession of the fertile regions of upper Italy exposed
them to the constant assaults of fresh bodies of invaders,
pressing on over the Alps, and perhaps likewise from the
seaboard. Their force was extended over a w^ide area, and
thus too weak to withstand the attacks from various sides
to which they were exposed. Thus their extensive terri-
tory was gradually reduced by the successive encroachments
of other peoples. First came the Etruscans, who according
to Herodotus (i. 9i) were Lydians, who established them-
selves in the land of the Umbrians. -From which side of
Italy they madethtir invasion, whether from the mouth of
the Po or from the western coast of what later became
Etruria, or whether from both, we have no means of de-
termining. That the Umbrians did not yield without, a,
struggle we cannot doubt. It was only after three hun-
dred of their towns had been captured by the Etruscans
that they succumbed. Nevertheless they still -retained
considerable influence in upper Italy, which, according to
Strabo (v. 216), continued down to the time of ihe Roman
conquest. For he says that there was a large Umbrian
element in the Roman colonies in the region of the Po, a.!
also some Etruscan. For, according to him, the Umbrians
and Etru.<cans lived in a continual rivalry for the pre*
eminence, -w that if the one people made an expedition
northwards, the other determined not to be outdone. So
when the Etruscans had marched against the barbarians
who dwelt near the Po, and had soon again been expelled
owing to their effeminacy, the Umbrians in turn marched
against the conquerors of the Etruscans. In consequence of
this alternating struggle for. these regions they planted
many colonies, some Etruscan, others Umbrian. Most Oi
the colonies were Umbrian because the Umbrians lay closer
to the disputed territory. Thus, even though they lost
the sovereignty, the Umbrian race probably continued to
form a considerable portion of the population of a wide
extent of country. At all events, at the time of the Gaulish
inroad the Etruscans seem to be in jiossession of the mouth
of the Po. At this time, therefore, Umbria as a state con-
sisted of the region bounded on the W. by the Tiber, on
the S. by the Sabines, on the, E. by Picenum and the
Adriatic, while on the N. it extended close up to the south.-
em or Spinetic mouth of the Po. Scylax describes the
Etruscans as extending from the Tyrrhenian Sea to the
Adriatic, and represents them as in possession of the ancient
Greek town of Spina.- How much farther south the
Etruscan sway had once reached we cannot determine,
but that they had once held this region, as far as Ravenna
at least, is rendered probable by the tradition Ihat Ravenna
had been founded by a colony of Thessalians who, not
brooking the insulting treatment which they received
from the Etruscans, gladly admitted some Umbrians, who
thus became the possessors of the city. When the great
Gaulish inroad took place at the beginning of the 4th cen-
tury B.C. Etruscans and Umbrians alike suffered severely.
Some of the Celtic tribes crossed the Po and formed
permanent settlements. Tbe Ananes settled in the
Apennines, the lioii between the former and the Adriatic;
next came the Lingones; and finally the Senones occupied
the seaboard of the Adriatic as far as the Rubicon. This
region in Roman times was known as the Ager Gallicus
(Polybius, ii. 16). Rut it was not only in the north and
west that the Umbrians had been driven back. The early
Greeks had included under the name of Umbria the dis-
trict along the Adriatic, afterwards known as Picenum.
This consisted of a fertile region, extending from beyond
Ancona to the ri>cr Matrino. It is not improbable that the
I Piceates issued from the Sabine region. Tradition alleged
T.n
U M M — U N G
that tie ?i.centcs, \Bd by the woodpecker (jmus) of Mars,
marched forth to occopy what is aow the March of Ancona.
But it was probibly only after a long struggle that this
conquest was effected, for from another tradition we
learn that the Sabiaes, alter carrying on war against the
Umbrians for a long time, at length vowed a sacred spring,
and dedicated all the produce of the year to the gods.
Then at length they became victorious (Strabo, v. 250).
Thus, by the advance of the Gauls from the north and the
Picentes from the south, the Umbrians wore shut oS from
the seaboard, and confined to the district known as Umbria
in historical times." When Rome began the consolidating
of Italy, Umbria consisted of the region bounded by the
Ager Gallicus on the N., by Etruria (the Tiber) on the
W., by Picenum on the E., and by the Sabines on the
S. The Umbrians kept a desperate hold of this district,
which lies between the two arms of the Apennines. This
position indicates of itself that tl,:y had been driven before
stronger foes. Henceforward they play but an insignificant
part in Italian history. This is explained by the physical
formation of their country. It is an extremely mountain-
ous region, with a few small plains between, which were
noted for their fertility. Hence arose a number of small
but thriving communities, none of which had the capacity
of developing into a leading state such as Home became for
the Latins. Their want of seaports likewise excluded them
from trade, the mouths of all the rivers which flowed from
their country Laing in the hands of their enemies.
Of the Umbrians' political and municipal organization little is
known. In addition to the city {Ma) they seem to have had a
larger territorial division in the tribus (trifu, ace.) as we gather
from Livy (xxxi. 2, per Umbriain qnam tribum Sapiuiam vocant ;
cf. xxxiit. 37) and from the Eugubine Tables (trifor Tarsinates, vi.
8. 54). From the fertility of their land their communities were
very prosperous. The olive and vine flourished in their valleys ;
they grow spelt abundantly; and the boars of Umbria were famous.
Ancient authors describe the Umbrians as leading effeminate lives,
and as closely resembling their Etruscan enemies in their habits
(Theopompus, fiagm. 142; Pseudo-Scymnus, 366-8). It is almost
certain that each raco influenced and modified the other to a large
extent. Mommsen has pointed out that the names of many towns
in Etruria are Urabrian, a fact which shows liow persistent even
after conquest was their influence in that region. On the other
hand, we have conclusive proof of strong Etruscan influences in
Umbria. For instance, they undoubtedly borrowed their alphabet
and the art of writing Oom the Etruscans. Their writing runs
from right to left. The alphabet consists of nineteen letters. It
has no separate symbols for 0, G,-Q; the aspirates 0 and x ^re
■Wanting ; on the other hand, it possesses forms for Z and V, and
has likewise the Etruscan/ (8). It also has a symbol d peculiar
to itself for expressing the sound of palatal k when followed by
either e or i. It is also very probable that they borrowed the art
of coining money from Etruria. Two towns are known to have
issued corns, which consist entirely of bronze, and belong almost
entirely to the series of ses grave. The most important is that of
Tudcr (Todi), which must have been a place of some note. It was
a strong fortress on the left bank of the Tiber on the confiaes of
Etruria. Iguvium (Gubbio), which struck coins after the standard
of Tuder, was a strong place likewise on the western or Etruscan
side of the Apennines. The fact that it is only in towns on the
side next Etruria that a coinage is found indicates that it was
from the Etruscans they borrowed the art. The Umbrians counted
their day from noon to noon. But whether they borrowed this
likewise from the Etruscans we do not know (Pliny, ii. 77). In
their measuring of land they employed the vorsus, & measure
common to them and the Oscans (Frontinus, De Limit., p. 30), 3 J of
which went to the Rom%n jugerum. When the Romans undertook
the conquest of Italy, the most feeble resistance of all was offered
to them by tho Umbrians. In the great struggle between the
Samnite confederacy and Rome Umbria pl.iyed an insignificant
part. It is probable that all through the Second Samnite War
their sympathies were altogether on the side of their Samnite
kinsmen, and that some assistance was afi"orded by individual
communities. It is not unlikely therefore that it was with a view
to keep the Umbrians in check that the Romans planted a colony
at Nequinum en the Nar, whose inhabitants w^re known as Nartes
Interamnates, and who aro_ included with the Etruscans, lapydes,
and Tadinates in the list of persons who were forbidden to be
present at the sacred ritts of .Iguvium. At length in 308 B.C. the
Umbrians made a vigorous effort to aid the Samnitcs, which, had
it taken place earlier in the war, might have had the most import-
ant influence on the issue of the struggle. As it was, it came tO(i>
late; the Etruscans hail already laid down their arms. Th&
Umbrians, who threatened to march on Rome, were intercepted by
Rulliauus with tlie Roman army from Samnium on tho upper
Tiber, a step which the S.amnitcs nov; broken could not prevent;,
and tills was sufficient to disperee the Umbrian levies. When thfe
Third Samnite War broke out, the Umbrians took no active part
in its operations j but how their sympathies lay is evident froirk
their affording awady passage to the Samnita army under Gellius.
Egnatius on its march to Etruria, 296 B.C. When the battle of
Sentinum (295) finally crushed the Snninites and Etruscans, Um-
bria remained in the hands of the Romans. Henceforward the:
process of Latinizing went on steadily, for by the 1st century B.C.
we find them employing the Latin alphabet iu copies of the ancient
sacerdotal ritual of Iguvium (see Eugubine Tables). We know-
that the Osoan language only fin.illy expired in the 1st century-
of our era, and there is no reason for believing that the Umbriait
had disappeared much earlier. When the Romans conquered the
Senones, 280 B.C., the Aeer Gallicus was restored to Umbria, and
both togetlier formed under the empire the sixth region of Italy.
Strabo (v. 227) regards Ravenna as the boundary of Umbria.
The Via Flaminia passed up through it from Ocriculum to Arim-
inum, along which lay the important towns of Narnia (Nami)
Carsulas (Carsigliano), Mevaoia (Bevagna), Forum Flaminii, Nu-
ceria, and Forum SemproniL To the east lay Interamna (Terni),
the probable birthplace of Tacitus, Spoletium (Spoleto), and the:
most important town of Camerinum on the side of the Apennines;
towards Picenum. On the side towards Etruria lay Tuder (Todi),
Iguvium, which occupied a very advantageous position close to the-
main pass through the Apennines, Ameria (Amelia), and- Hispellum
(Spello); on the ClitumnnS"(Clitunno) was Assisium (Assisi). the.
iiirthplace of Propertius. whilst far to the north lay Sarsina, th»
birthplace of Plautus. For the position of the countjy-iD the timo.
of Augustus, see vol. xiii. Plate V.
See Br^al, Les Tables Eugubines, 1875; BQcheler, Umbrica. 1883; KIrchhoff..
GriecK Alphabet, 4lli cd.. 1887 ; Head, Hulona Numorum, 1887. (W. RI.)
UMMERAPOORA, another form of Amaeapuea {q.v.)^
UNAO, a British district in the Lucknow division of
Oudh, India, under the jurisdiction of the lieutenant-
governor of the North-Western Provinces. The area of
the district is 1768 square miles, and it is bounded on
the N. by Hardoi, E. by Lucknow, S. by Rai Bareli, and-.
W. by the Ganges. Unao is very flat, and has no features
of particular interest. Rich and fertile tracts, studded
with groves, alternate with stretches of waste land and
plains of barren usar, the whole being intersected with
small streams, the water from which is extensively used
for irrigation. The Ganges is the only navigable river irk
the district. The temperature varies from about 75° to
103° in the hot weather, and from 46° to 79° in the cold
season. The average annual rainfall is about 34 inches." i
In 1881 the population was 899,069 (males 461,167, females
437,902); of these 830,342 -ivcre Hindus, 68,677 Mohammedans,
and 49 Christians. Unao, the capital and administrative head-
quarters, 9 miles north-east of Cawnpore, had 9509 inhabitants.
The cultivated area of Unao amounted in 1885-86 to 598,131 acres,
and 289,356 acres were returned as cultivable. The principal cropa
are rice, wheat, andvOther food grains, cotton, sngar-cane, and in-
digo. The cultivation is mainly, dependent on irrigation. Thc-
principal exports are grain of all kinds, gur, ghi, tobacco, and a.
little indigo and saltpetre; and the chief imports are piece goods,
salt, iron, cotton, spices, &c. The gross revenue of the district
iu 1885-86 amounted to £183,083, the land yielding £144,914.
During the mutiny of 1857-58 Unao was the scene of several sever*
engagements between General Havelock's little army and the rebels.
On the death of Raja Jasa Sinh, one of the leading rebels, and th^
capture of his two sons, the whole family estates were confiscated,
and the villages either restored to their former owners or given to.
other landholders for their loyalty.
UNDULATORY THEORY. See Optics- and Wave
Theory.
UNGVAR, chief town of the county Ung, in the tiurth-
east of Hungary, stands on the river Ung. It is the seat
of the bishop of Munkdcs, and has a fine Greek cathedral,
an episcopal seminary, a lyceum, a gymnasium, and also
a teachers' college, a county hall, and an interesting
ancient castle. The town and district produce good wine
in large quantity, and abound iu mineral springs. There
is a good trade in timber and china clay. The populatioa
in 1886 was 13,460.
U N I — U N I
725
UNICORN, an animal with one horn. The name is
applicable and has sometimes been applied to the rhinoceros,
"which is, for example, the Sumatran uniecra of Marco
Polo. Bat the fijjure usually associated with the name is
the well-known heraldic one of an animal with the form
of a horse or ass, save that a long straight horn with spiral
twistings, like the tusk of the narwhal, projects from its
forehead. The belief in the existence of a one-horned
^niual of this kind goes back to Aristotle {Part. An., in.
p. 663), who names as one-horned " the ory.x and the
Indian ass." Later descriptions of the Indian unicorn,
■r.g., that of ./Elian (N^al. An., xvi. 20), are plainly influenced
?o some extent by accounts of the rhinoceros, but the
-authority of Aristotle determined the general form ascribed
to the animaL The twisted horn, of which iElian already
:-3peaks, seems to have been got by referring to Aristotle's
wnicorn actual specimens taken from the narwhal ; see
Yule's Marco Pa'o, ii. 273. The ancient and mediaeval
lore of the subject may be seen in Bochart, Hierozoicon,
ML 26. The familiar legend that the unicorn could be
taken only by the aid of a virgin obtained currency
through the Physiologus (see vol xix. p. 7). The English
Bible, following the Septuagint (/xocdKfpus), renders the
Hebrew reevi {p^"^) by " unicorn." But two horns are
-ascribed to the reem in Deut. .\xxiii. 17, and the Hebrew
Word reappears in Arabic as the name of the larger ante-
lopes, probably the Antihpe leucoryx, while in Assyrian the
Hinu appears to be the wild ox. There are recent fossil
remains in the Lebanon both of Bos primiym,iiis and Bison
urws, thougli both have been long extinct in Palestine.
UNITARIANLSM. The term Unitarianism in its widest
^ease includes certain lines of the great religious andtheo-
sogical movement or revolution of the Reformation in the
16th century, when this is regarded as the commencement
^f the process of the humanization of theology and ethics on
the basis of the autonomy of the human mind. In another
■^ense the term stands for a set of theological opinions,
TOore or less variable, and yet in their general drift con-
nected, some of them as old as Christianity, and one
section of which only is indicated by the term when used
OS synonymous with Antitrinitarianism. But there is
•another meaning of the term, a still narrower one, and to
Unitarianism in this sense this article must be confined.
We must limit ourselves to a brief account of Unitarianism
as it appears in ecclesiastical organizations in separation
^roni the orthodox churches. This treatment of the sub-
.ject is of course incomplete, and would be misleading were
the incompleteness not expressly announced. For a
marked feature of the late history of the Unitarian
-churches is the growing tendency they exhibit of working
out to their logical results, some of the wider principles of
the Reformation to which they ultimately owe their origin,
rather tlian the design of formulating and propagating
systems of theology. To not a few modern Unitarian
teaders the bond which connects them with a specifically
Unitarian organization is the spirit and tendency of the
iarger movement for which it happens to provide freer play
than the orthodox churches, while they repudiate the im
putation of belonging to a dogmatic sect. Modern Uni-
tarians have also, both in Europe and America, emphati-
cally and successfully resisted the inclination of some of
their number to lay down, though in the most general
terms, a creed of Unitarianism. Indeed, in opposing this
'tnchnation, it might sometimes seem as if the only essen-
tial article of LTnitarianism were the maintenance of free
inquiry in religion, — an impression, however, which a care-
tul study of the history of Unitarian thought would remove.
In the same way such a study would show that Unitarian
churches are in agreement on many points of doctrine with
*ariy and recent theologians of all churches and sects.
This brief sketch of Unitarianism, as it has appeared
in organized religious societies, takes us into but a few
countries, and covers but a limited space of time. Poland,
Transylvania, England, and America are the only countries
in which Unitarian congregations have existed in any
numbers or lor any length of time. Elsewhere, either the
law of the land has rendered their existence impossible, or
they have been unnecessary in consequence of the substan-
tial adoption by the existing churches of their principles
and doctrines. The former was the case in Italy, Switzer-
land, Germany, and England in the 1 6th and 1 7th centuries,
the latter to a certain extent in England in the 18th cen-
tury, still more in Germany in the 18th and 19th centuries,
and in Holland in the present century, as also to a lArge
extent in France in the Reformed Church.
Poland [\565~165S). — The Unitarians, undei the names of Arians,
Samosatenians, Pinczowians, were formcJ into a separate church in
1565 by their exchision as Aotitrmilarians from the synods of the
Trinitaiian Protebtants. Very early in the progress of the R 'forma-
tion in Poland individuals had arrived at heterodox opinions on
baptism and the Trinity, very much under the influence of the
heterodo.i Italian refugees in Switzerland, some of whom visited
Poland (Lelio Suzzini, 1551 and 1558 ; Paul Alciati, 1561 ; G. V.
Gentile, 1561 ; BianJrata, 1555). Gonesias and Gregory Pauli
were the first to openly preach Antitrinitarian doctrine. After their
separation from the orthodox, the Polish Unitarians developed
divergent views as to the nature of Christ, as to the lawfulness of
paying divine worship to Him, as to the subjects of baptism (infanta
or adults), and as to the relation of Christians to the state. On the
first point some were Arians and others Humanitarians, while those
who claimed divine worship for Christ were called AdoranUs and
those of the opposite view Nmiad^attles. An epoch in the history
of the party was made by the arrival of Fausto Sozzini at Cracow in
1579 (see SociNUs). He succeeded in converting the great majority
of the churches to his views and in filencing the dissentients.
Henceforth the Polish Unitarians adopted the Socician practice of
paying worship to Christ, the Socinian view of the necessity of
baptism and of the Christian's duty towards the state. They
rapidly became a numerous and powerful body iu Poland, distiil-
guished by the rank of tlieir adherents, the ability and learning of
their scholars, the excellence of their schools, and the superiority
and wide circulation of their theological literature. Kacow, the
theological centre of the Soctnians, with its school and printing
presses, obtained a world-wide fame. It was there that the
Raccmian Catechism was published (1605 in the Polish language,
1603 in German, and 1609 in Latin). But before the death of
Fausto Sozzini (1604) the situation of the Unitarians became more
difficult, and in 1611 the Jesuits obtained their first open triumph
over them. Iu the rapid course of the Catholic reaction, which
was not resisted by the orthodox Protestants as long as the
Scciniau heretics only suffered, tha church and schocl at Li:l Hn,
the most important place next to Racow, were first put down (lC-27),
and Racow, with its church, school, and printing-press suffered
the same fate in 1638. The final blow to the whole body followed
in 1653, wlien all adherents of "the Arian and Anabaptist sect"
were commanded to quit the kingdom within two years. A few
renounced their faith, but the large majority fled into Transylvania,
Prussia, Silesia, Holland, and England.
7'rat«yJraiiia( 1563-1 387). — Next to Poland Transylvania was the
most important seat of Uuitariaijism. It was there the narue was
first used by the sect as its own designation, and it is there only
that the sect has had a continuous existence down to our own time.
It is generally cousidered that the Italian refugee Biandrota was
the founder of Transylvanian Unitariauism, but the present repre-
sentatives of the body claim for it a nobler and domestic origim
Biaudrata attended John Sigismund as a physician in 156o ami
under his influence Unitarianism made rapid progress. Iu 1568
its profes-sors, favoured by the king and many magnates, after
separating from the orthodox cliurch, constituted themselves a
distinct body under the distinguished man Francis David, who is
now regarded as the apostle of true Transylvariiau Unitarianism.
Their principal centre was Klausenburg (Kolozsvav), where they
had a large church, a college, and a printuig-press. But the same
conflict between a more radical and a more conser\'ative tendency
which appeared amongst the Unitarians of Poland greatly distr.rbed
tl-.o churches of Ti-ansylvania, particularly with regajrl to the
worship of Clirist. Ou the side of the Adoraidcs was Biandxati-.^ &nd
on that of the XoyiadoraiUcs David. The party of David succumbed
to fwi'ce and fraud, and he himself died in prisou amaitj-r to his
convictions. Gradually the Socinian view prevailed, though in
1618 an old order to wqrshij^ Christ required reinforcement-^ In
the latter half of the ISth centnr}' the more logical view of David
entirely disapijoared. Under the Austrian dyuasly the Unitarians
726
U N I — U N I
wero often exposed to great trials, until Joseph II. seciired to them
their rifihta and privileges. An official confession of faith of the
year 1787 remains, with some modifications, essentially Socmian.
But of late years the Transylv.-iiiian Unitirians have been in close
relation with their co-rcHgionists in England and America, some
of the ministers having been educated at Manchester New College,
and in coiisequence their theology is becoming essentially modern.
The number of members was 32.000 in 17S9, in 1847 40,000, dis-
tributed in 104 parisiics with 120 pastors. Their present number
is 53,539 in 106 parisho;. Tlieir chief centres are Kolozsvar, Thorda,
Brd Keresztur, where tliey have excellent schools.
England (1773-1887).— For two and a half centuries previous to
the rise of oro-anized (Jnitarianism in England, opinions commonly
• 1 « . .1 ■ e ....,1 ...... .^ ir. .4i ..>.! iin) o/lif .^r■o^■i>.; Mnil KflTTlft
the rise ot oro-anizea unicananism in jz^ugianu, opinions commonly
e&lled by this'name found nuni.-rous individual advocates and some
martyrs John Bidle (1615-62) published catechisms of Unitarian
doctrine, translated Sociuian works, and publicly discussed and
preached an English form ot Socinianism. But the seventy of the
law against AntitriniUrians, coupled with the gradual growtuo!
free pinion in the Established Church and amongst the Presby-
terian congregations, mode the fomation of separate Unitarian
churches impossible, and, as was felt, less necessary for another
hundred years. The adoption of a completely Humanitanan view
of Christ's person by a few solitary muividuals (Lardnar 1/iU,
Priestley 1767, Lindsey 1773), assisted by tho awakened earnest-
ness of the time, led to their formation. Lindsey resigned a valu-
able living in Yorkshire, and gathered the first professedly uni-
tarian church in Londcn. Other clergymen followed bis example,
and amongst the Presbyterians several ministers, like Joscpli
Priestley, exchanged their Arian for Humanitarian views. ..nis
process went on ivith deep permanent efiects m some of the Uisfect-
fng acadomies. In the year 1791 was formed the Unitarian Booi
Society ^or the distribution of literature, and several provincial asso-
ciations originated about the same time. In 1806 the Unitonan Fund
Society was e,sta!)lished, with the object of promoting Unitarian
Christianity by direct mission work. In 1818 arose another society
for protecting the civil rights of Unitarians. These various
societies were consolidated in 1825 under the name of the British
and Foreign Unitarian Association, which has now its headquarters
in the buSding formerly used as Lindsey's chipel and residence iu
Essex Street, London. Early in this century nearly the who.t ot
the old Preabyt^irian congregations, which, unlikp those oi the
Baptists and Independents, had ujidogmatlc trust-deeds, passed
thiouoh the stages of Anninianism ani various forms of Ananism
into Socinianism in its peculiar English i^nJ inair.ly Pnestleian
form The penal laws against Antitri-itariamsm, -.vbicb ha., long
been obsolete, were repealed in 1813, and in 1844 the right o. Uni-
tarians to the chapels which they Tield in succession nom their
Presbyterian forefathers was legally secured to them by the L.is-
santers' Chapels Act without altering their undogmatic ; ; i'.rt-deeds.
Though these congregations, popularly known as Unuarian, on
princmk declined to restrict the progress of thought by imposing
on either their ministers or members any doguatic statcraanta ot
belief, th% generality of them adopted with somo moducations^the
theological system of Priestley, which was a combination o. Lo«e s
philosophy with the crudest rationalistic superDatur&lism. V, ith
the rise of a more spiritual philosophy in Germany, which bore
fruit in England and America before the close of the second decade
of the century, the theology of English Unitarianism underwent a
radical change, very much in the first instance under the mtluence
of Dr Channing's writings. Without at all sacrificing its critical
and rational bent, a deeper emotional and .-ipintuil clement was
introduced into it, which gradually, at tho cost of some years of
internal conflict, disposss.sscd the purely external and super-
naturalistic Socinian and Priestl?i,';n legccy. English Unitarian
theology was thereby brought into close .sympathy with modern
scientific theology in Germany and elsewhere. This great and
eavinff transformation v. as mainly due directly to James Majtineau,
J J Tayler and J. H. Thom, aided by the writings of Channing
and then of Theodore Parker. One consequence of tho greater sub-
stantial agreement of the present theology of the larger number ot
the Unitarian churcheswilli tho scientific theology of the century is
■that cot a few representatives of these churchesidisclairn the name
Unitarian as one tending to perpetuate divisions which have really
no rigiit to continued existence. The main reason for continued
separation from the larger liberal churches, wTiether Estabhshed or
Dissenting, earnestly urged by many Unitarians of this class, is the
use in those churches of theological formularies which modern theo-
logy regards as of historic interest only. The number of congrega-
tions in England and Wales generally described as Unitarian ^
about 300, nearly half of which dato from bet«-een 1662 and 1750,
and neariy all of which have undogmatic trust-deeds Their consti-
tution is pure! V congregational. For the education of their ministers
they have Manchester New College, London (strictly unQeuomin-
ational), the Unitarian Homo Missionary Board, Manchester, and
Cai-marthen College, supported and managed by the Presbytenan
Board in London, but practically Independent and Unitarian. 1 no
organs o: the bv^dy :uo T.V /;:.(ia>sr, JM C:.ri^Uc.:^ Z /•, Thi Urn-
tarian Herald (weeklies), and The Christian Jle/ormer (mOiittty!'.
In Scotland there are 7 Unitarian congregations and 2 UniversaUsf,,
the latter being, as in America, Unitarian in doctrine. In Ireland;
the number is about 40, being neariy all Presbytenan lu constitu-
tion They are much stronger in the north than m the south or
Ireland. In the north Antitrinitarian views began to spread about.
1750 ; but the first congregation at Dublin traces its Unitariauiam
back to Thomas Emlyn, who was imprisoned for his Arian opinions .
iu 1702 at the instigation of orthodoK Dissenters.
Uniied Slates (1315-1887).— In the United States Umtanar. ism •.
had no organized existence previous to 1815, and as in England at
the present time the name has always covered great differences of
opinion within a co.nmon outline of belief or common drift of
religious thought Historical American Unitananism represents .
" the liberal wmg of the Congregational body." Of the existing 370
churches 120 or more were originally the parish churches fonnlled
by the Puritan Congrcgationalists, which, like the Presbytenan
congregations in England, passed gradually from Calvinism through ,
AnSinianism to Unitariauism, of which Harvard College became
the spiritual centre. In 1812 there vjas but one church in America.,
professedly Unitarian (that of King's Chapel., Boston), though the
ministers of Boston generally held Unitarian views^ In 1815.
Belsham'a account of the "State of the Unitarian Churches m
An .rica" (in his Life of lindsey, London, 1812) led to a controveray,
th« issue of which was tho distinct avowal of Unitarian principles
on the part ot the liberal clergy of New England. Dr Channing:
came forward as the prophet and champion of Aaerijan Uuit.ir-
ianism, though the older he grew the more emphatically he re-
pudiated sectarianism in evei? form. The Congregational body
was thereby split iirto two sections, one of which styled thev«Belyos..
Unitarian Congregationalists. In 1825 the Ameiican Unitariao
Association w^ formed, mainly for the diffusion of yt"taJ-.'^a
literature and the support of poor congregations. At that time
the Unitarian churches numbered about 122- J"=°tJ l^f l^*';
they were some 280, while now they are about 370. The theological
colleges of the body are the Divinity School of Harvard Univeraty,,
whici is, Uke Manchester New College, undenominational, and the
Theological School of MeadviUe. As in England so m America,
the thlology of Unitarians has passed through marked changes,,
which have been attended by conflicts more or less acute. _ I'rom,
1815 to about 1835 a BibUcal, semi-rationahstic semi-super-
naturalistic theology prevailed, iu the heart of which Channing a
Elevated ethical ideas were fermenting and slowly preparing a new
birth From 1836 forces such as BibUcal cntic-.sm, Urivle anJ
Emerson's "tianscendentalism," and Theodore Parkers aosuiute
religion" opened the era of modern theology, bringmg \nicricaii.
Unitarianism into living tonch with the piulosophy auu theology
of GermaTy. An efforfin 1S65 to bring the right and left wmg?
of tho body into a closer confederation with a more pronoane = i
profession of Christianity led to the formation of a Free Rehgioc*
Association on the broad basis of the love of truth ana Rooda^B.
In the Western States the same controversy as to the basis of reh-
gious association has been raging for more than ten years In May
1886 a resolution was passed by th= Western Unitarian Conferenea
by a majority of more than three-fourths adoptmg a purely ethical
and non-th"ological, basis. This led to a spht in the bo.ly and
the formation of a new Western Association on a distinctly Christian
platform. The left wing of Anrerican Unitarians show greater sym-
mthy with recent scientific speculation and less fear of pantheisb.^
Seories than is the case w.tfi English Unitarians. T^ie organs or
the body are The yn,toria« ifcW™. (Boston), The Christy,.,: RcpsUr-
(Boston), and The Unitarian 'Chicago).
mwmmmsA
preface by Rev, -J; "^''^^ij.J'-'o;;, uk^aiMo^r.t?n Tluclon. 3<i ed.,
Tlaught i.l England, America, an'' ludta, tnghsh irann., 18»s. (.->• ' '
UNITAS FEATRUM. See Moravian Beethben.
UNITED BRETHKEN IN CHRIST, a body of Pio-.
testaBt Christians m the United States of Aroenca, ■which,
iD 1886 included 4332 organized churches 4078 '^ 1877),
185,103 members (U3,SS1 in 18"), 1»78 itinerant
ministers, 890 local preachers, 3169 Sunday school Tnlh,
28,.5i7 teachers and 179,729 scholars. The total vame of
church property held by the denomination was $3,34-5,064 j
♦ho «^om raised for sakries, ehnrch -building expenses, col-
U N I — U N I
727
leges, missions, and the like made a total of $Si2,700. The
organizatioa of . the church is Episcopal (six bishops, two
of them missionary), hut its polity combines features of
the Methodist, Congregatioaal, and Presbyterian systems.
The creed may be described as Arminian. The members
are pr<jhibited from joining secret societies, and from using
alcohol or engaging in its manufacture or sale. In con-
nexion with the denomination are a theological institution
(39 students), ten colleges, and nine academies or semin-
aries of a higher grade, with 62 professors, 64 other teachers,
and 2486 students. There are 49 annual conferences, 46 of
them in the United States. Two missions in the Sherbro
country in West Africa have 6 American missionaries, 9
churches, and 2631 members; in Germany there are 10
German missionaries, with 20 churches and 615 members.
The denomination originated in the labours of P. W. Otterbein
(1726-1813), a native of Germany, who came as a missionary to
Lancaster, Pa., in 1752, and settled at Baltimore in 1774. He
became associated with Martin Boehm, a Mennonite preacher, ao'l
also co-operated with the Methodist preachers when they "came to
Pennsylvania. The first annual conference was held in 1800.
UNITED KINGDOM, The, of Great Britain and
Ireland is the official title, adopted in 1801, now applied
to England, Scotland, and Ireland (see Geeat Britain).
The total area is returned as 77,657,065 acres, or 121,339
Population M.P.s
in ISSl. 1884.
Ekglahd.
Btdtord
Berks _
Bucj£iiiKh;ini
Cambridge
Chester.
Colli wall
Culn^erland.....
Derby _ _..
Devon
Dorset
]>arhain._
Essex.. „
(Gloucester ...
Hants ...
Hereford „— ..
Hertford
Huntingdon. .........
Kent..„
Lancaster _
Leicester
Lir.
Middlesex
Monmouth
Norfolk-
Northampton
N< rthumtverland .
Notiingliam
Oxford.
Rutland
Shropshire
Somerset
SuSord
Soirolk.._
Sorrey
Sussex
Warwicic
Westmoreland
Wilts„
Worcester. ,
Totk _
\VAtT3.
Ariclesey
Brecon
Cardigan
Carmnrthen...
Camanron
Der.ttigh
Hint
Glamorgan
Merioneth.. ..
Monlgomerj"...
Pembroke
Badnor.
Eni^Iand and Wales...
SCOTLA.\D.
Aberdeen..
Argyll
Aj- -..
Banff
149,473
218.3C3
l-6,:)23
1&5,.'.94
644,037
3-30,686
250.617
461,914
603,595
191,023
867,258
576,434
572,433
593,470
121,062
203,069
59,491
977,703
,454,441
321,235
469,919
,920,485
211.267
414.749
272,555
4:!4,0S6
391,815
179,559
:i,4M
24.S.014
469,109
981.013
3-v6,89.3
,436,899
490..',05
737,339
64.191
258,965
■380,28.3
^S86,.'l64
51,416
57.746
70,270
124,864
119,349
111.7)0
80,587
511.433
52,938
65,718
91.824
23,528
2f7,'OII 4
7(i.46S 1
217,519 4
62,736 1 1
CouiiUes.
Population Ji.P.s
in 1881. ISS5.
Berwick
Bu:e
Caithness
Clackmani>;iii
Dumbarton.......
Dumfries
Edinburgh.
El^n
File
Forfar
Haddington
Inverness.. .„
Kincardine
Kinross
Kirkcudbriglit_ _.
Lanark
Linlithgow
Nairn
Orkney and Shetland.
Peebles „
Penh
Renfrew
Ross and Cromarty ...
Roxburgh .T...
Selkirk
Stirling.
Sutherland
Wigtown —
Ireland.
Antrim „...
Arraajih
Carloiv.....:
Cavan
Clare
Cork
Donegal
Down.
Dublin
Fermanagli
Galway „.
Kcixy
Kildare
Kilkenny
King's „
Leitrim
Limericic
LondondeiTv
Longford-..'
Louth
Mavn
Meith
.Monaghan
Queen's
Roscommon
Sligo
Tipperai^y
Tyrone
Wateiford
Westmcath
Wexford
Wicklow ..
Umted Kingdom..
35,392
17,657
3S,86.',
25.680
75,333
•76.140
389,164
43,788
171,931
266,360
38, .502
90,451
34,464
6,697
42,127
901,412
4-;.6iu
19,455
61,749
13,8-22
129,007
263,374
78,-547
63,44>
25.564
112,443
23,370
3S,611
3,735,573
421,943
163,177
46,568
129.476
141,457
495,607
206,035
272,107
413,910
84.879
242,005
201,039
75,804
99,.531
72.852
90,372
180,632
164 991
61,009
77,684
245,2r>
87,169
102,748
73.124
13;,49li
111,578
199.617
197,719
112.76S
71,798
123.851
70,386
34.884,848 C61
square miles, — England and Wales embracing .37,^70,041
acres (whereof -Wales 4,721,633), Scotland 19,467,077,
and Ireland 20,819,947. The accompanying table give^i
the population of the counties according to the census of
18S1, and their parliamentary representation as determined
by the Redistribution Act of 1885. In the enumeration of
the Scottish members of parliament, groups of burghs are
included in the counties containing the burghs whence
they are respectively named, while it is to be observed that
Kinross county is united with Clackmannan, Nairn with
Elgin, and Selkirk with Peebles. The addition of the
nine university representatives (England, 5; Scotland, 2;
Ireland, 2) brings the total membership of the House of
Commons to 670.
For the Islands in the British Seas the figures are as
follows : — Isle of Man — 141,263 acres, population 53,558;
Channel Islands — 48,322 acres, population 87,702.
UNITED PRESBYTERIAN CHURCH, The, in point
of numbers the tiiird of the Presbyterian organizations of
Scotland, was. formed in 1847 by the union of the United
Secession and Relief Churches (see below). The doctrinal
standards are those of the other Presbyterian churches of
Scotland, and the formula employed at the ordination of
ministers is similar to that of the Established and Free
Churches ; but adherence to the doctrinal standards is
profe.ssed in view of the Declaratory Act of 1879, accord-
ing to which signatories " are not required to approve of
anything in the standards of the church which teaches or
is supposed to teach compulsory or persecuting and intol-
erant principles in religion," and are allowed freedom of
opinion on all points which, in the judgment of the church,
do not enter into the substance of the faith. The denomina-
tion in 1887 consisted of 32 presbyteries and 564 congrega-
tions (518 in 1847), with a total membership of 182,063
(175,066 in 1878; 178,195 in 1883), thus representing
about 14 per cent, of the population of Scotland. The
number of baptisms in 1886 was 9894; there were 887
Sunday schools, with 11,994 teachers and 97,535 scholars,
besides 788 advanced Bible classes, with 30,535 scholars.
The total income of the church in 1886 was £373,54.5
(average for ten years from 1877 to 1886, £375,660) ; of
this total £237,300 was ordinary congregational income,
and £136,245 missionary and benevolent income. The
average stipend paid to each minister was £259, 16s. lOd.
There is a divinity hall in Edinburgh with 4 professors anj
(session 1887-88) 114 students. The term of study is
three years. The United Presbyterian Church has missions
in Jamaica (a synod with four presbyteries), Trinidad,
Kaffraria, Old Calabar, India, China, Japan, and Spain.
The mission staff consists of 60 ordained European!!, 22
ordained natives, 8 medical missionaries, 3 European evan-
gelists, and 19 female missionaries. Under these are 502
native evangelists, teachers, and other helpers. In ISSG
the membership of the native congregations was 13,214
(10,215 in 188i). In Jamaica there is a theological in-
stitution. At the end of 1875 the denomination had 620
congregations, with 190,242 members, but in June 1876
98 of its congregations in England, with 20,207 members
were incorporated with the English Presbyterian Church.
History. — (1) United Secession C/iurch. — The genn.il
causes which led to the first great secession from the
Church of Scotland as by law established in 1688 have
already been briefly indicated under Pre-sbyterianism
(see vol. xix. p. 685 ; compare also Scotland, Church
OF, vol. xxi. p. 536 sq.). Its itnmcdiate occasion rose out
of an Act of Assembly of 1732 which abolished the last
remnant of popular election by enacting that, in cases
where patrons might neglect or decline to exercise their
right of presentation, the minister was to be chosen, not
by the congregation, but only by the elders and Protestant
72S
U N 1 — U N I
heritors. The Act, itself had been passed by the Assembly,
although the presbyteries to which it had been previously
submitted as an overture had disapproved of it by a
larga majority ; and in accordance with a previous Act
(1730), which had taken away even the right of complaint,
the protests of the dissentient mr.jority were refused. In
the following October Ebenezer Eeskine (q.v.), minister
of Stirling, who happened to be moderator of the synod
of Perth and Stirling, preached a synod sermon, in the
course of which he took occasion to refer to the Act in
question as in his opinion unscripturaland unconstitutional.^
Some of his expressions were objected to by members of
synod because " tending to disquiet the peace of the "hurch
and impugning several Acts of Assembly and proceedings
of church judicatories," and after long and keen debate it
was resolved that he should be censured for them. This
judgment, on appeal, was affirmed by the Assembly in
May 1733, whereupon Erskine protested to the effect that
he held himself still at liberty to teach the same truths
and to testify against the same or similar evils on every
proper occasion. This protest, in which he was joined by
WilUam Wilson, Alexander Moncrieff, and .lames Fisher,
rjinisters at Perth, Abernethy, and Kinclaveu respectively,
was regarded by the Assembly as contumacious, and the
commission of Assembly was ordered to procure its re-
tractation or to proceed to higher censures. In November
accordingly the protesting ministers were severed from
their charges, their churches declared vacant, and all min-
isters of the church prohibited from employing thera in
iiny ministerial function. They replied by protesting that
they stUl adhered to the principles of the church, though
C3W obliged to " make a .secession from the prevailing
party in ecclesiastical courts," maintaining their continued
rijht to discharge all the duties of the ministerial and
pastoral office " according to the word of God, the Con-
frssion of Faith, and the constitution of the church,"
s:.d appealing to the "first free, faithful, and reforming
Coneral Assembly of the Church of Scotland." In De-
cember 1733 they formally constituted themselves into a
j,;esbytery, but for some time their meetings were devoted
almost entirely tc prayer and religious conference. In
1734 they published their first " testimony," with a state-
ment of the grounds of their secession, which made pro-
minent reference to the doctrinal laxity of previous General
Assemblies. In 1738 they proceeded to exercise "judicial
powers" as a church court, published a "judicial testi-
mony," and began to organize churches in various parts
of the country. Having been joined by four other min-
isters, including the well-known Ralph Erskine, they
appointed Mr Wilson professor of divinity. . For these
acte proceedings were again instituted against them in
the Assembly, with the result that, having disowned the
authority of that body in an "act of declinature," they
were in 17iO all deposed and ordered to be ejected from
their churches. Meanwhile the members of the "Associate
'Presbytery " and its adherents steadily increased, until in
1745 there were forty -five congregations under its jurisdic-
tion, and it was reconstituted into an " Associate Synod."
A violent controversy arose the same year respecting the
religious clause of the oath taken by burgesses in Edin-
burgh, Glasgow, and Perth (" I profess and allow with
my heart the true religion presently professed within this
realm and authorized by the laws thereof "), and resulted
i> April 1747 in a "breach," when two bodies were
formed; each claiming to be the "Associate Synod";
those who coridemned the swearing of the burgess oath as
sinful came to be popularly known as " Antiburghers,"
while the other party, who contended that abstinence from
' The passing of tbe Act w^s certainly unconstitutional ; it waa
r^Efiiuded in 1734, " tacanse not uiaJc according Id fiji.ncv Acih."
it should not be made a term of communion, were dedg-
nated " Burghers." The Antiburghers not only refused
to hold further friendly conference vrith the others,, but
ultimately went so far as to pass sentences of depoaitioD
and the greater excommunication on the Erskines and
other ministers who held the opposing view.
The Associate (Antiburgher) Synod held its first meeting
in Edinburgh in the house of Adam Gib {q-v.) on April
10, 1747. It grew with considerable rapidity, and in
1788 had ninety-four settled charges in Great Britain and
nineteen in Ireland, besides a presbytery in America. For
purposes of organization it was formed in that year into
four provincial synods, and took the name of "The
General Associate Synod." The " new light " controversies
as to the province of the civil magistrate in matters of
religion led to the publication , of a revised testimony
in the "voluntary" sense in 1804, and in consequence
M'Crie, the historian of Knox, with three other brethren,
withdrew to form the Constitutional Associate Presbytery.
The Associate (Burgher) Synod held its first meeting
at Stirling on .June 16, 1747 The number of congrega-
tions under its charge rapidly increased, and within thirty
years there were presbyteries in connexion with it in Ireland
and North America, as well as throughout Scotland. In
1782 the American presbyteries took the. designation of
the Associate Reformed Church in America. About the
year 179.5 the "voluntary" controversy respecting the
power of the civil magistrate in matters of religion arose
within this synod also, and a large majority was found to
have adopted "new light " views. This led in 1799 to
the secession of the " Associate Presbytery," which in
1805 took the designation of the Associate Synod or
Original Burgher Synod.^
In 1820 the General Associate or Antiburgher Synod
(to the number of 129 congregations^) united with the 154
congregations of the Associate or Burgher Synod. The
body thus constituted, "The United Secession Church,"
had increased by 1847 to 400 congregations, the whole of
which united in that year with the Relief Synod to form
the United Presbyterian Church.
(2) Relief Church. — The Presbytery of Relief was con-
stituted in 1761 by three ministers of the Church of
Scotlandj one of whom was Thomas Gillespib (q.v.), who
had been deposed by the Assembly in 17iJ for refusing,
to take part in the intrusion of unacceptable ministers.
The number of congregations under its charge increased
with considerable rapidity, and a Relief Synod was
formed in 1773, which in 1847 had under its jurisdiction
136 congregations; of these US united with the United
Secession Church in that year. The T lief Church issued
no distinctive " testimonies," and a c:-. .lin breadth of view
was shown in the formal declaration of their terms of
communion, first made in 1773, which allowed occasional
communion with those of the Episcopal and Independent
persuasion who are " visible saints." A Relief theological
hall was instituted in 1824.
See M'Kerrow, RisUyn) of the United Secession Chunk, 1841 ;
Struthers, Bistory of ihe'Relief Church, 1843 ; Mackelvie, Aniiab
aiul &latislics of the United Presbyterian Church, 1873.
UNITED PROVINCES. See Holland.
' The majority of this synod joined the Church of Scotland in 1839.
The small minority which still retained the name joined the Original
Seceders (see next note) in 1842, the resultant body assuming the
designation of United Original Seceders. A small majority (twenty-
seven ministers in all) of the Synod of United Original Seceders joined
the Free Church in 18B2. A synod of this name still exists, having
under its jurisdiction four presbyteries, with twenty-nine charges (of
which two are in Ireland).
* A dissentient remnant (eight congregations) of the Geiicral Asso-
ciate Synod imited with the Constitntional Associate Presbj'tery in
1827, the resultant body being called the Associate Synod of Origin»l
Seceders.
729
[Copyright 1890 bjrR. S. Peale. J
EXITED STATFP.
PART I— HISTORY AND COLONIZATION.
kffort!i
to fooiid
I. DISCXJVERY AKD SETTLEMENT OF AMERICA.
tMt]j %oy- 1. fT^HE date on which America was first discovered
5SS»T"rie9 \. ^y Europeans is a matter of uncertainty. The
legends respecting the early voyages hither
are numerous, but the most ancient of them are doubt-
less fictions. No account of the discoveries, previous
to the time of Columbus, can be relied upon, excepting
those made by the Icelanders, who, about the year
1000, attempted to colonize the countrj', but without
any permanent success. It was not until the coming
of Columbus, in 1492, that any benefit was derived by
the old world from the discovery of the great continent
of America.
The success of Columbus aroused the spirit of enter-
prise, and other voyages were made, notably those of
the Cabots in 1497 98. Ponce de Leon in 1513, and Ver-
razzano in 1523. under the auspices of the English,
Spanish and French governments, respectively. The
Spaniards gave the name of "Florida" to North Amer-
ica, while the French called it "Canada or New France,"
and these two nations in some way conceived the idea
that the whole country belonged to them.
2. But the English had not forgotten that the Cabots,
with English ships, had first reached the mainland of
North America, and from this fact they laid claim to
the northern part of that continent. Many unsuccess-
ful attempts were made by Englishmen to found colo-
nies. The first of these was Sir Humphrey Gilbert who
made two efforts, one in 1578, and the other in 1583,
without success, and lost his life in a storm while re-
turning home. Sir Walter Raleigh, Gilbert's half-
brother, obtained a patent from Queen Elizabeth, and
in 1584 sent out two ships, commanded by Amidas and
Barlow, to fix upon a place for a settlement. They ex-
plored the coast of what is now North Carolina. Struck
with the beauty and fertUily of the country, they gave
a most flattering account of it on their return home,
and Raleigh named it Virginia, in honor of the "virgin
queen" Elizabeth. In the spring of 1585 he sent out a
colony which settled on Roanoke Island, but it was
starved out in the same year. Again, in 1587, Raleigh
sent out another colony under White to the same place,
but it entirely disappeared, and no trace of it could be
found when White came back three years later. In
1602, Gosnola, with twenty colonists, took a short and
direct route, and came upon the coast of Massachusetts.
He wintered upon an island in the vicinity and then
went back, taking the colonists, who refused to stay
any longer, with him.
3. In 1605, James. I granted a charter to two com-
panies formed in England. This charter gave them
the whole continent of North America, from the thirty-
fourth to the forty -fifth parallel of latitude. The one
called the Plymouth Company was to take the nor»aern
half, and the other, the London company, the southern
half, and their nearest settlements must be a hundred
miles apart. Moreover, each colony was to be governed
by a resident council appointed by the king, with power
to choose one of their own number for president.
J*"" 4. The earliest attempts at colonization under the
ooiouy.*"™^^^ English patent were made by the Plymouth com-
pany, but the expeditions which they sent out in 1606,
1607 and 1608, were unsuccessful, and it was left for
the London company- to found the first permanent Eng-
lish settlement in the new world. In 1606 this com
pany sent out about a hundred men, mostly adventur-
ers, inafleetof three vessels commanded by Christopher
Newport. Being driven by a storm into Chesapeake
Bay, he found there a fine river which he named the
23--2fi*
TtePIym-
•ath aad
London
oampaDles.
colony.
James river, after the king, and choosing a low pe-
ninsula, he there planted the colony of Jamestown
on May 13, 1607. But very soon the colonists be-
came dissatisfied. Dissensions arose and Wingfield,
president of the council, was deposed. They suf-
fered from starvation, and had it not been for the
indefatigable exertions of Captain John Smith, the
settlement would have entirely broken up. The
colonists experienced many vicissitudes, but after a
few years they became prosperous and the perma-
nent settlement of Virginia was established. In the
meantime, the policy of the London company
toward the settlers became more liberal, and a rep-
resentative government was granted them in 1619,
which was the beginning in America of government
by the people. In 1619 a Dutch vessel brought in
some negroes purchased hy the planters, and thus
slavery was introduced into the English colonies.
5. The first settlers of Massachusetts were a band of
Puritans, or Separatists, as they were called, because
they had separated from the Church of England. Being
driven from England, they sought refuge in Holland;
hut wishing to find a home in the new world for them-
selves and their children, they returned to England
again, and from thence a band of 102 set sail in the
Mayflower, and landed at Plymouth, in America, De-
cember 21, 1620. The little colony survived the rigors
of a northern winter, the burden of poverty, and the
lack of food, and became permanently established.
6. In 1628 John Endicolt, with a company, made a
settlement at Salem; other towns, also, sprang up
around it, and these were all united under a charier
obtained from Charles I, with the name of the Massa-
chusetts Bay colony. These two colonies, Plymouth
and Massachusetts Bay, were for many years independ-
ent of one another; but were at last united in 1693,
under the name of Massachusetts.
7. In 1624, the London company surrendered its
charter to the king, who made a disposition of the ter-
ritory which they had controlled, as he thought fit. A
part of it was granted to Lord Baltimore in 1633, and
received the name of Maryland. All the country be-
tween the English settlements of Virginia and the
Spanish posts in Florida was called Carolina. This ter-
ritory comprised the present states of North Carolina,
South Carolina, Georgia, Alabama and part of Florida.
In 1729 North and South Carolina were organized, and
in 1733 Georgia was colonized by James Oglethorpe,
and Savannah founded. Thus, out of the territory,
originally granted to the London company, five colo-
nies had been formed.
8. To the territory granted to the Plymou th com-
pany, the name New England had been given by Cap-
tain John Smith in 1614. The founding of the Ply-
mouth and Massachusetts Bay colonies has already
been mentioned. The greater number of the people
who came from England in the great Puritan migra-
tion, settled in the latter colony. At the same time
many found it expedient to seek other parts of Nuw
England. Now only did new-comers thus try new
places, but the older settlements began to send out com-
panies. In 1623 New Hampshire was first colonized
under a grant to Captain John Mason and Sir Ferdi-
nand Gorges. Connecticut and Rhode Island also be-
cam3 colonies, and were afterward chartered by the
crown in 1663 and 1663. Thus, out of that part of the
country originally granted to the Plymouth company,
were formed the colonies of Massachusetts, Connecti-
cut, New Hampshire and Rhode Island. Maine was con-
sidered a part of Massachusetts and was not counted p.s
PlymoaUi
colony.
Majisatht*
[^etls Bay
colony.
Maryland
Carolina
Georgia,
The olhvt
New
England
colonies.
Uampsbli
Connecti-
cut and
Rhodt
lalano.
r.so
UJSriTED STATES
a separate colonj' among those that finally combined to
form the original thirteen states. The territory now
occupied by Vermont was claimed in part by New
York, in part by New Hampshire, and she did not be-
come a separate state until after the revolutionary war.
y. As has been said, the charter granted to the Lon-
don and Plymouth companies provided that theirnear-
est settlements should be one hundred miles apart,
thus leaving a strip of territory between the two main
grants which was really neutral ground, and was never
appropriated by either company. The Spaniards had
confined their explorations to the south and made set-
tlements there, but they claimed ithe whole continent
north of them. The French had established themselves
in the north, and held Canada and part of the northern
stales; they claimed everything south of them and
called the whole New France. The English settle-
ments were midway between the French and Spanish,
and the English claimed everything from New England
and Carolina westward to the Pacific, naming it all
Virginia. Thus, so far. North America was divided
between the three European powers, England, France
and Spain.
b"^Dm h' 10. A fourth power now appeared. In 1609, the
owe" " Dntch East India company sent out Henry Hudson, an
En.nlishman in their employ, in the ship named the
"Half Moon" to make discoveries in America. He
reached the continent and explored the coast as far
south as Virginia, then turning to the north he entered
the mouth of the river which bears his name, and sailed
\ip the stream as far as the present city of Albany.
Having completed his discovery he returned home.
I'[ on the strength of Hudson's explorations, Holland
laid claim to all the land along the great river, and
c-il'ed the whole territory New Netherlands. In 1621,
the Dutch West India company was formed, and im-
mediately received large grants of land on both sides
of the Hudson extending from the Connecticut river on
the north to the Delaware river on the south. Previous
to this, however, a Dutch settlement had been founded
in 1614, on Manhattan Island, the present site of New
Y.Ji'k City, which was afterwards called New Amster-
dam.
The Dutch now began to establish settlements and
trading posts in their possessions, which included that
neutral territory lying between the original grants to
the London and Plymouth companies. In 1638, Dela-
''ed h w*i"6 ^^s colonized by the Swedes, who founded a set-
olnny. tlement on Delaware Bay, which was called New Swe-
den. But disputes about a territory arose between the
Swedish and Dutch colonists, which led to a war be-
tween them, ending in the final surrender of New Swe-
den to the New Netherlands in 1655.
>'uch'''"' ^^' But New Netherlands was soon destined to change
iowcr. hands. The introduction of a foreign element between
the northern and southern portions of the English colo-
nies had always been recognized as a source of trouble
and danger, and in fact the Dutch settlers, occupying
territory claimed by the English on both sides of them,
Were continually Involved in disputes with their neigh-
bors, especially with those of Connecticut. War hav-
ing arisen between England & Holland, the English
king, Charles II, determined to seize the Dutch posses-
sions in North America; so in 1664 he granted the whole
of their territory to his brother, the Duke of York. In
the same year the duke sent out three vessels under the
command of Colonel Nichols, who, upon arriving in the
hp.rbor of New Amsterdam, demanded a surrender of
the territory to his English majesty. Governor Stuyve-
sant, being unprepared for defense, complied with the
demand, and the whole country passed into the hands
of the English. In honor of the duke, the name New
Sew York Amsterdam was changed to New York, and the whole
territory received the same name.
1?. After the Duke of York had gained possession of
the Dutch territory, he in turn sold the southern part of
ciinsyi*
■IT- ■ . tliirteen
\ irgmia, (.oionieei
it to two English noblemen. Lord Berkely and Sir
Oeorge Carteret. This tract, in compliment to Sir
George, who had been governor of the island of Jersey,
was called New Jersey. A libera! constitution was
formed by the proprietors, and Philip Carteret ap-
pointed governor. The Dutch had several small trad-
ing stations in this territory at an earlier date, and the
Quakers, having bought the rights of Lord Berkely,
came soon afterwards. In 1676 a division was made,
the Quakers taking West Jersey and Carteret retaining
East Jersey, which became Puritan. In 1703 the colony
was given up by the proprietors to Queen Anne in order
that a royal governor might be appointed, and the two
provinces were then made into one.
13. The territory comprised within the limits of the 1
state of Pennsylvania was granted in 1681, by Charles ^■'°'''-
II to William Penn. sou of Admiral Penn, in payment
of an old debt due from the crown to the Penn family.
In 1682, the present state of Delaware, then known as Delaware,
the "Territories," was added to his domain, and re-
garded a3 a part of Pennsylvania, but in 1703 it became
a separate colony. Thus, the formation of the original The
thirteen colonies has been described. The London ?,'1?.'''*J
Company's territory furnished five, viz:
Maryland, North Carolina, South Carolina and Georgia.
The Plymouth Company's grant, comprising New Eng-
land, gave four, viz: Massachusetts, Connecticut, Rhode
Island and New Hampshire. The neutral territory in-
cluded between the original grants to the two companies
furnished four, viz: New York, New Jersey, Pennsyl-
vania and Delaware.
14. It is in vain to look for well balanced constitutions 1'''? fonsti-
in the earlier periods of colonial history. England ',[J"°°io^ef
herself can scarcely boastof having a fixed constitution
previous to the revolution in the year 1688, a period sub-
sequent to the settlement of the colonies. The legal
and constitutional history of the colonies, therefore, af-
fords but little instruction. .As has been shown, in less
than eighty years from the first permanent English set-
tlement in North America, the two original patents
granted to the Plymouth and London companies were di-
vided and subdivided into twelve distinct and uncon-
nected provinces, and in fifty years more a thirteenth,
Georgia, was added to the southern extreme of the
previous establishments. To each of these, after vari-
ous changes, there was ultimately granted a form of
government resembling in its most essential parts, as
far as local circumstances would permit, that which was
established in the parent state. Without entering into
details, it may be observed, in general, that agreeably
to the spirit of the British constitution, ample provision
was made for the liberty of the colonists. The colonial
forms of government were, in the main, unhampered
by the royal prerogatives. In some of the provinces
the inhabitants chose their own governors and all other
public ofiicers, and their legislators were under little or
no outside control. In others, the crown delegated most
of its powers to particular persons, who were also in
vested with the property of the soil. To those colonies
which were most immediately dependent upon the king
were granted the same rights and privileges as their
fellow subjects in the mother country.
15. During the period of colonization, three forms of Forms ot
government were observable — proprietary, charter and If^gn™"
royal. The proprietors of land grants offered liberal
governmental privileges to those who were willing to
settle on their lands, and thus several of the colonies
became proprietary. These were Maryland, Carolina,
Georgia, New York, New Hampshire, Pennsylvania
(also including Delaware) and New Jersey. Some of
the proprietors becoming tired of their grants, surren-
dered them to the crown, and the colonies, established
in such territory, became royal provinces, over which
the king appointed governors with the power of abso-
lute veto on legislation. The colonies thus coming un-
der the royal authority were. North Carolina, South
U ^" I T L 1 ) S T A T E S
731
udcr a
barter
English
policy
toward the
coloiUi^Ie.J
Growth
wid pro«-
peri:y of
the colo-
Aiee.
CaoEPs of
increafie
In popala-
Social life
aod cne-
toms Oi'
New
Voglasd.
Carolina, Georgia, New York, New Hampshire and
New Jersey. Virginia became a royal province about
1620. Three colonies, only, remained proprietary
down to the Revolution; these were Pennsylvania, Del-
aware <now a separate colony) and New Jersey. The
colonies organized under a charter government were
jilassachusetts, Connecticut and Rhode Island. These
charters were granted by royal authority, and gave the
colonists the right of choosing their own officers, and
making and enforcing their own laws as they thought
best. Upon the accession of James II to the throne, he
held that all the colonial lands in New England be-
longed to the crown. Accordingly he sent over Sir Ed-
mund Andros, who was to revoke all the charters, and
assume the governorship of the province of New Eng-
land and New York. The charter of Jlassachusetts was
annulled in 1684, but Connecticut and Rhode Island re-
tained theirs in spite of the royal authority. In 1693. a
new charter was granted to Massachusetts, but under its
conditions she partly became a royal province.
16. For the first ceutuiy and a half after the settle-
ment of the colonies, England, in the main, exercised
a wise and liberal policy toward them. She allowed
them to govern themselves by such laws as their local
legislatures thought necess;jy, and left their trade open
to every individual in her dominions. She also gave
them full permission to pursue their respective interests
in such a manner as they thought proper, and reserved
little for herself but the benefit of their trade, and that
of a political union under the same head. This indul-
sence had a very marked effect upon the growth and
prosperity of the colonies. They increased in wealth,
numbers and resources with a rapidity never before
'^quailed in ancient or modern history. They extended
their settlements 1,500 miles along the sea coast, and
SOD miles to the westward. In the short space of 150
years their numbers increased to three millions, and
iheir commerce to sucfi a degree as to b3 more than a
third of that of Great Britain, although much restricted
by the navigation laws imposed upon them by the
mother country. The rapid increase in the population
of the colonies was principallj' owing to internal causes.
Though somewhat accelerated by the intiux of stran-
gers previous to 1630, yet, after that time, immigration
formed but a small feature in peopling the country.
The hardships of colonial life, which came to be better
understood, and the constant struggles between the peo-
ple and the home government respecting rights and
privileges, served as a check to the advent of new
comers. Hence the population of the colonies arose
mainly from natural increase. In eonsequence of the
equality of fortune and simplicity of manners which
prevailed among them, their inhabitants multiplied far
beyond the proportion of old nations, corrupted and
weakened by the vices of wealth, above all, of vanit}-,
than which, perhaps, there is no greater enemy to the
increase of the human species.
17. In the settlement of a new country, many hard-
ships and privations must of necessity be endured, and
the American colonists experienced their share of them,
more especially those of New England. In that section
the climate was more rigorous than in the other parts
of the country, and the cultivation of the soil more dif-
ficult. The habitations outside of the regular settle-
ments were often far apart, so that intercommunication
was infrequent. The dwellings of the settlers were of
the ruder sort, being composed of logs, and so imper-
fectly constructed that they afforded a poor protection
against the cold of a New Englanr'. winter. While the
colonists were poor there was necessarily great plainness
of living among them. Luxuries were unknown to
them, but there was an abundance of the coarser kinds
of food. Pork and beans, boiled corn meal and milk,
or pork and peas, formed the staple articles of diet.
Bread was commonly made of "rye and Indian," and
seldom of flour. Tea and coffee were not yet introduced.
but home-made beer and cider were largely used. Be-
ing principally of Puritan stock, there were but few
secular amusements among them. Dancing, and the
theater, or anything approaching it, were forbidden;
musical instruments were rare, and no one was allowed
to own a set of dice or a pack of cards. In their de-
sire to promote virtue, the Puritans, no doubt, were too
austere in their mode of living, yet the standard of
morality among them was certainly very high. In the
southern colonies life was more easy, as a general thing.
A large proportion of the settlers there were men of
good family, attracted to the new world by a desire to
make money and to enjoy personal freedom. Many of
them secured patents for plantations of their own, in-
stead of attempting to improve the lands in common,
and brought out laborers to work them at their private
expense. The soil was very productive, and the growth
of tobacco, rice and indigo formed a great source of
wealth, so that luxury abounded in that part of the
country to a much greater extent than in any other.
The existence of slavery among them caused a great
deal of ignorance and idleness, as the wisest of them
admitted; bu I there grew up an aristocratic class,among
whom there were many men of high character and en-
ergy. The settlers in the region which now forms the
middle states principally followed the occupation of
farming, the soil and climate being well adapted for the
growth of cereals.
18. The religion of the colonists was chiefly Protest-
ant. A majority of them, especially in the north, were
of that class of men who. in England, were called dis-
senters. In New England they were largely Congrega-
tional. All the other leading denominations also had
their representatives in different parts of the coimtrj-.
In the royal colonies there was a strong tendency
towards the Church of England, which became the pre-
vailing religion among them. In Virginia it was estab-
lished by law. In fact nearly every colony at the out-
set attempted to establish some form of religious belief
on a governmental foundation, and on account of this,
as is well known, persecutions at the first arose. But
the spirit of religious freedom predomiualed, and in
general, men were left at liberty to worship God ac-
cording to the dictates of their own consciences.
19. The English colonists were, from their first set-
tlement in America, devoted to liberty, according to
English ideas and English principles. After a long
struggle between the king and his parliament culminat-
ing in the English revolution, the following fundament-
al principles were settled: "That it was the undoubted
right of English subjects, being freemen or freeholders,
to give their property only by their own consent. That
the House of Commons exercised the sole right of grant-
ing the money of the people of England, because that
house alone represented them. That taxes were the
free gifts of the people to their rulers. That the au-
thority of sovereigns was to be exercised only for the
good of their subjects. That it was the right of the
people to meet together, and peaceably to consider their
grievances, to petition for a redress of them, and finally,
when intolerable grievances were unredressed, to seek
relief, on the failure of petitions and remonstrances, by
forcible means." Upon these fundamental principles
thus established, the colonists took their stand, and all
encroachments on their rights were met with a more
determined spirit of opposition than would have been
possible, had they emigrated from the mother country
in the preceding century, when the doctrines of the
divine right of kings and passive obedience to their will
were generally accepted.
20. There were many causes favorable to liberly
among the colonists. Their removal to so great a dis-
tance from the parent government greatlj- weakened
their attachment to their sovereign, and with each suc-
ceeding generation that affection became still less
marked, and at length was almost entiivly lost. Their
The
religions
coDdition,
ReliffioQS
freedom.
The spirit
of liberty.
Rights of
English
eubiects.
Cansos
favorabl-
to libect
•732
U i^[ i T E D !^ IVA T E S
leligion also fostered a love of liberty. They were chiefly
Protestants, and all Protestantism is founded on a strong
claim to natural liberty and the right of private judg-
ment. Ths state of society in the colonies was favora-
ble to a spirit of liberty and independence. Their inha-
bitants, unaccustomed to the distinctions of rank which
characterized European nations, were imbued with the
idea that all men are by nature equal. All their im-
pressions were calculated to inspire them with a belief
that democratic forms of government were by for the
best. With rank and titles they had nothing in com-
mon; kings, nobles and bishops were unknown to them.
They could not easily be persuaded that their grants of
land or their civil rights were the gifts of princes.
Many of them had never heard of Magna Charta, and
those who knew the circumstances of the remarkable
period of English history when that great charter was
obtained, did not rest their claims to liberty and prop-
erty on the transactions of that important day. They
looked to the Parent of the universe as the source of all
their rights. Their political creed was short but sound.
They believed that God made all mankind originally
equal; that he endowed them with the rights of life,
property and as much liberty as was consistent with
the rights of others. That all government was a poli-
tical institution between men naturally equal, not for
the aggrandizement of one or a few, but for the general
happiness of the whole community. Impressed with
sentiments of this nature, they grew up, from the earli-
est infancy, with that confidence which is well cal-
culated to inspire a love for freedom and a preposses-
sion in favor of independence.
n. — THE CONTEST BETWEEN ENGLAND AND »RANCE.
france in 21. While the English were establishing their colo-
Lmerica. njgg along the Atlantic coast, and gradually working
their way into the interior, the French were penetrat-
ing the continent by the way of the St. Lawrence, tak-
ing advantage of the discoveries made by Cartier.
Champlain and others. The two great pioneers of
French occupation were the fur trader and the mission-
ary. It was about the time of the settlement of Mass-
achusetts Bay that the Jesuit Fathers, who had already
been laboring for many years among the Algonquins
and Hurnns of Canada and New York, began to push
their e.\plf)rations westward with renewed zeal and en-
terprise, accompanying, and often leading the Canadian
fur traders on their long journeys. Among the soldiers,
also, who came to New France, as the French posses-
sions in America were called, were men who were in-
tent upon enlarging their king's domains. Several of
the Jesuits were martyred. Allouez made known the
copper mines of Lake Superior. Dablou and Marquette
founded Sault Ste. Marie, the first white settlement in
the northwestern states. Marquette, accompanied by
the trader Jol'et. first reached the upper waters of the
Mississippi in 1673.
lobertde 23. One of the greatest of French explorers was
> Salic. Robert de la Salle, who came out to Canada to seek his
fortune. A tract of land was granted him a few miles
beyond Montreal, but he was bent upon new discoveries.
He secured the aid of some rich men and of Count
Prontenac, governor of Canada, and having built some
vessels, he explored the upper lakes, made his way to
the Illinois river, and erected a fort on the present site
of Peoria. At last he made the great journey which he
had for some time been planning. He set out from
Fort Uiami, on Lake Michigan, with a part}' of French-
men and Indians. He dragged his canoes from stream
to stream until, after innumerable hardships and dan-
gers, from which he never flinched, he launched them
upon the waters of the Mississippi and floated down its
current. He explored the great river to its mouih, and
in 168i, took possession of the vast territory drained by
it and its tributaries in the name of Louis XIV. king
of France, and named it Louisiana after him. He then
retfaced his course And hastened back to France. The
king fitted out an expedition for La Salle that he might
establish a colony at the mouth of the Mississippi. The
naval commander, Beaujeu, lauded La Salle and his
company at Matagorda bay, in Texas, which La Salle
supposed at first was the mouth of the Mississippi.
Then Beaujeu sailed back and left the colonists to their
fate. They built a fort, and La Salle set out to find the
Mississippi, but utterly failed. Dividing his men, he
left one party in possession of the fort, and with the
other endeavored to force his way to Canada, there toi
obtain relief. He never reached the end of his journey.
After suffering terrible hardships, he was treacherously-
murdered (1687) by some of his own party when on hia-.
way. France sent out another expedition under D' Iber-
ville, who (1702) founded Mobile. In 1718 the city of ■
New Orleans was founded by the French Mississip()ii
Company.
23. The French planted military posts at intervuls French
along the great river, and settlements rose up about ™'i,t5^
them. The French colonies and outposts also extended
from New Brunswick and Nova Scotia, up the valley
of the St. Lawrence, and through the region of the
great lakes. Thus the English settlements became en-
closed by a cordon of military posts, and at that time it
seemed as though the whole continent were destined to
become French rather than English. The French also
had an advantage from the fact that they had secured,
the good will of most of the Indian tribes through their
own prudent policy and the influence of their mission-
aries. The English settlers looked upon their French
neighbors with jealousy and alarm, for they interfered
with the extension of their settlements, especially m
the north. In the southern colonies the inconvenience
of the French occupancy was comparatively but little-
felt. Their social characteristics and the nature of their
industry were not favorable to western migration, so, as.
there was nothing to tempt them away from their plan-
tations into the wild interior they kept close to the sea-
coast. But in the north it was different. There the
constant increase of commerce was followed by the in-
creased wealth of the towns, and consequently the-
lands about them became more valuable. The great
bulk of the emigrants who came over landed at the
northern ports since trade was more active in the north-
ern colonies. Many of these, being unable to purchase
homes near the great centers of trade and the many
flourishing settlements, or being impelled by a spirit of
enterprise, went in search of new lands farther from
the coast. Thus the northward and westward growth
of New England and the English conquest of New
Netherlands brought the two great rivals face to face.
34. The great struggle between France and England Kin^
began in 1690. King James II had been dethroned JJ.'l''*""*
(1688), and William of Orange placed upon the English
throne. The French king, Louis XIV, espoused the
cause of James, and a war followed, known as King
William's War, in which the colonies became involved^
Both the French and English colonists made use of In-,
dian allies, and the warfare was marked by the most
barbarous excesses. The Indians of Maine and New
Hampshire were incited by French traders to attack the
English towns. In 1689 Dover was burned. Cascowas.
attacked, but the timely arrival of reinforcementt from
Msssachusetts saved it. All the settlements further east.
were broken up. In 1690 the war became more earnest.
Three war parties of French and Indians were sent out.
by Count Frontenac from Montreal. Three Rivers and
Quebec. The first surroimded the settlement of Schen-
ectady in the night, and put it to the sword. The sec-
ond destroyed Salmon Falls, New Hampshire, and thea..
in conjunction with the third party, captured Casco.
The English colonies became aroused and determined!
to punish the invaders. An expedition fitted out under
the united efforts of Massachusetts, Plymouth, Connec-
ticut and New York was sent out under Fitz John
UNITED STATES
783
I
Wiuibrop, against Montreal. An attack made on the
town was repulsed by Frontenac. In the meantime Sir
William Phipps, with a fleet, sent out from Massachu-
setts, plundered Port Royal and other French settle-
ments. Then, sailing up the St. Lawrence, he at-
tempted to surprise Quebec. But Frontenac, having
defeated the attack on Montreal, reached Quebec before
him, and the enterprise failed. The war continued un-
til 1697, when a treaty of peace was made between
France and England. Both parties had suffered severe-
ly, and neither had gained any real advantage.
^^" 25. The truce between the two great rivals lasted
■war. about five j'Curs, when war again broke out between
them (1702). At once the French and English in Amer-
ica fell to fighting, and the war that followed is called
Queen Anne's War. During the five years of peace
the French had continued to make settlements in the
west. They never lost sight of the great idea which in-
flamed their ambition, which was to establish a great
French- American empire. They had founded Detroit,
Mobile and numerous villages on the Mississippi. In
the east they had recovered all the places taken from
them by the English in the last war, inaugurated new
missions, and increased their influence over the Indians.
At this time Spain was in alliance with France, and the
English settlers foimd themselves opposed not only by
the French in the north and west, but by the Spaniards
of Florida in the south. The English colonistsdirected
their first operations against the Spaniards. St. Augus-
tine was captured (1702), but had to be abandoned.
Three years later the Christian Indian settlements of
middle Florida were destroyed by the English, and the
The wa. I missions entirely broken up.
the nor, I 26. New England suffered greatly in this war. There
was an atrocious massacre at Deerfield in 1704. Haver-
hill, which had not fuUy recovered from the massacre
of 1697, was plundered and burned a second time, and
many of the colonists killed (1708), and the whole of
that part of the country was harassed by barbarous
foes. Receiving but little help from England, the
colonists for several years were unable to undertake
any important expeditions. An attack on Charleston,
S. C. (1706). by the French and Spaniards, was repulsed.
Port Royal was again taken from the French (1710),
and with it the most of Acadia, which now became
known as Nova Scotia.
Expedition In nn an English fleet arrived in Boston to co-
clnwia. operate with the colonists in an attempt to conquer
Canada, but all operations in that quarter proved a
failure. In 1718 a treaty of peace was signed at
Utrecht, by which the English acquired Newfound-
land and Acadia. The eastern Indians were also in-
duced to make peace about this time.
27. Many years of peace now followed, during
which the colonies increased rapidly in population
and advanced in material prosperity. The French
stiU pursued their scheme of building up a great
empire in the west. They controlled the valuable
fur trade of the whole Mississippi valley. After
their expulsion from Acadia they had crossed to the
island of Cape Breton, and erected the strong fortress
of Louisburg. At Niagara they had a fort command-
ing the communication between Lakes Erie and Ontario.
Natchez was founded in 1716. In 1710 New Orleans
was built, and soon became the capital of Louisiana.
The French missionaries also continued their conquests
in the wilderness of the Mississippi. After several
years of peace, France again declared war against
England (1744), and immediately began hostilities
against the settlements. The campaign which fol-
Georre's 'o^cd is known as King George's war, because it oc-
fiu. curred in the reign of George II.
28. The colonists determined to carry on the war by
their own means without waiting the uncertain aid
from England. An expedition was planned against
Louisburg which was successful, and that strong fort-
ress fell into the bauds of the Americans (17-1.5). This
achievement of untrained soldiers was received with
enthusiasm bj' the colonies, and with astor'chment in
Europe. The treaty of Aix-la-Chappelle (1748) put an
end to the war; and greatly to the disgust of New
England, Louisburg was restored to the French in
exchange for Madras, in Hindustan, which France
had taken from England.
29. The colonists had but a short time to reap the
benefits of peace, after the treaty already referred to,
when the sound of approaching war tilled the land
with anxiety and gloom. After an interval of about
eight years. Great Britain formally declared war against DeclaraUoe
France. The causes leading to this war, which was"'""*
called the French and Indian war, were the alleged
encroachments of the French on the frontiers of the
colonies in America belonging to England. The French
determined to connect their northern and southern pos-
sessions by a line of posts extending along the frontiers
of the English possessions, from Lake Ontario to the
Ohio, and down the Ohio and Mississippi to New Or-
leans. Up to the middle of the last century the English
had not attempted to explore or settle the regions lying
beyond the Blue Ridge and Alleghany mountains, but
in 1749 a company of traders from London and Vir-
ginia, called the Ohio company, obtained a grant from Th^ Ohio
the crown of 600,000 acres of land on the east bank of <^'''™P»''y
the Ohio river, in what is now West Virginia and Penn-
sylvania. In the years immediately following they
made surveys and established a few settlements. One
of the surveyors was Geoige Washington.
30. The French, regarding these operations of the
Ohio Company as an encroachment upon their ter-
ritory, strengthened the fort at Niagara, built another
at Presque Isle (1753), now Erie, established Posts at
La Bffiuf and Venango (now Waterford and Franklin,
in the oil region of northwestern Pennsylvania), seized
the English traders, and confiscated their goods. When
rumors came of what the French had done. Governor
Dmwiddie of Virginia sent Washington, then not yet ■Washing-
twenty-two years of age, to look into the matter, andeTon!""*"
expostulate with the French regarding their encroach-
menis. After an arduous and perilous winter journey
Washington brought back such a report of the deter-
mination and activity of the French, that the Virginia ■
Assembly at once took- measures to build a fort (1754)
at the junction of the Monongahela and Alleghany
rivers; but while the fort was being erected the French
suddenly appeared, drove the English away, and
finished for themselves the fort, which they" called
Fort Du Quesne.
31. In the meantime, a body of 400 men had been
raised in Virginia and North Carolina, and sent out
under Washington into the disputed territory. Meet-
ing at Grand Meadows a French force which "had been 'Waehinp
sent out to intercept him, he attacked and defeated *t°TOfe!?
them (1754). Learning of the approach of a greatly
superior force of the enemy, he erected Fort Necessity.
Here he was attacked by the French, and compelled to
surrender, but on honorable terms. During this time,
both the rival governments of France and England
were making preparations for the coming struggle,
though there was no formal declaration of war until
1756.
33. In 17.55 General Braddock, with a force off^^^*"*
English and American troops, marched against Fort
Du Quesne, but was defeated with great slaughter,
and but for the skill displayed by Washington the
whole army would have been annihilated. Braddock
himself was mortally wounded, and died shortly after-
wards. After his death. General Shirley took com-
mand, and made an attempt to reduce Fort Niagarsi,
but accomplished nothing. General William Johnson
was appointed to attack Crown Point. He defeated
the French General Dieskau in the battle of Lakei
George (Sept. 5, 1755), but was unable to reach Crowik
734
UNITED S T A T E rs
Point. Id the same year all the French inhabitants of
Acadia were banished.
FrcBch and 33. In May, 1756, war was formally declared by
iadianWar.Great Britain, and by France in the following month.
Lord Loudon was appointed commander-in-chief of all
the forces in America, but owing to necessary delay,
General Abercrombie preceded him and took the com-
mand. The Marquis of Montcalm became the French
commander. Abercrombie awaited the arrival of Loudon
before attempting anything. Both officers proved in-
efficient, and by their delays allowed the French not
only time to strengthen their posts, but also to attack
those of the English.
t'amnaiuTi? 34. In August, 1756, Montcalm captured Fort Ontario
"'d'rs'- ^'''^ * large number of military stores, guns, prisoners
™ ' '■ ami vessels. In June, 1757, Lord Loudon organized an
expedition against Louisburg. but abandoned the at-
tempt on learning that the garrison at that place had
been strongly reinforced by a French fleet. In the
meantime, Montcalm, collecting his forces at Ticon-
deroga, marched against Fort William Henry, and
compelled it to surrender. After the surrender, many
of the garrison were massacred by the French Indian
allies. Thus after four years' hostilities, the incom-
petency of the British commanders still gave the French
the advantage. But a change in the British home
policy changed the aspect of the war. The celebrated
WiUiam Pitt was called to the ministry, and immediately
began to act with vigor. Abler officers were appointed
to command, and expeditions organized against dif-
ferent points. Louisburg was captured July 27, 1758.
Fort Du Quesne also was taken, and its name changed
to Fort Pitt. General Abercrombie's attack on Ticon-
deroga (July, 1758, ) met with a bloody repulse, but Fort
Frontenac was taken, with a large quantity of stores
and goods.
The 35. Pitt now determined to dispossess the French of
Conquest ofthe whole of their American territory. Their armies
Canada, ^gre directed at the same time against three of their
strongest posts, Quebec, Ticonderoga and Montreal.
General Amherst captured Ticonderoga July, 1759.
Fort Niagara surrendered to Sir William Johnson July
25, 1759. But the most important feature of the cam-
paign was the taking of the almost impregnable fort-
ress of Quebec by the gallant Wolfe, who lost his life
in the action. Soon after Montreal surrendered to Am-
herst. In this campaign the French were driven from
all the important posts in Canada, and their power in
America was broken forever. The war was virtually
at an end, though peace was not restored until the
The Treatysigning of the Treaty of Paris, February, 1763. By
of Pans, tiiis agreement, to which Spain and Portugal were also
parties, France surrendered everything east of the Mis-
sissippi, except New Orleans, to England. New Or-
leans and that part of Louisiana beyond the Mississippi
were ceded to Spain bj the French. In excliange for
Havana, which had been captured by the British,
Spain yielded Florida to England. In 1800 Spain re-
stored Louisiana to France, and Napoleon sold it to the
United states in 1803.
Pouiiace 36. When the treaty of peace was signed, it was
^"- trusted that there would be an end to those horrid rav-
ages which had desolated the interior of the country.
But the month of May. 1763, proved the fallacy of
such hopes. The Indians did not wish to see the coun-
try transferred by the French to the English. It was
one thing to have the French trading among them,
another to have the hated English occupying their
lands. It was about this time that the famous insur-
rection of the Indian tribes broke out. The Delawares
and Shawnees and other of the tribes of the Ohio were
foremost in this conspiracy. Pontiac, an Ottawa chief,
was the prime mover and master spirit in this affair,
and hence it is called Pontiac's war. Pontiac ex-
pected the French to ,ioin him, for they were secretly
encouraging him. Mosit of the western tribes were
drawn by him into the plot, but Sir William Johnson'
prevented a greater part of the Iroquois from joining
him. Pontiac's plans were deeply laid, and conducted
with Indian craft and secrecy. At a concerted time an
attack was made upon aU the posts from Detroit to-
Fort Pitt (formerly Fort Du Quesne). The Indians
captured and destroyed eight of the twelve forts, but
were unable to take the important posts of Detroit and
Fort Pitt, though Pontiac besieged the former place
for five months. The frontiers of Marj'land, Virginia,
and Pennsylvania were laid waste, and terrible havoc
wrought in the frontier settlements. The English,
surprised by the first attack, soon roused themselvea
and met the danger promptly. The power of the tribe*
became broken, and most of them sued for peace.
Pontiac retired to the Illinois country, and made a
stand there for som-, time longer, finallv submitting
in 1766.
III. CAUSES OF THE AMEKICAU BEVOLUTIOX.
37. The addition to the British empire of new prov-
inces, equal in extent to old kingdoms, not only ex-
cited the jealousy of European powers, but occasioned
doubts in the minds of enlightened British politician*
whether or not such immense acquisitions of territory
would conduce to the I^nefit of the parent state-
They saw, or thought they saw, the seeds of disunion
planted in the too widely extended empire. To com-
bine in one uniform system of government the exten-
sive territory then under British sway.appeared to men
of reflection a work of doubtful practicability; nor
were their conjectures at fault. The seeds of discord
wore soon planted, and speedily grew up to the rend-
ing of the empire. Tbe high notions of liberty and in-
dependence which were nurtured in the colonies by
their local situation, and the state of society in the
new world, were increased by the removal of hostile
neighbors. The events of the war had also given them
some experience in military operations, and confidence
in their own ability. Foreseeing their future impor-
tance from the rapid increase of their numbers and
extension of their community, and being extremely
jealous of their rights, they readily admitted and in-
dulged in sentiments and ideas which were favorable
to independence. While combustible materials were
daily collecting in the new world, a spark to kindle
the whole was produced in the old.
38. In the first period of the settlement of English PiJ^e^'"."'
America, the mother country regarded the provinces as pntes.
instruments of commerce. She contented herself with
a monopoly of their trade without taking upon herself
the care of their internal policy, or seeking a revenue
from them. Previous to the close of the war in 1755,
the catalogue of grievances she imposed upon the
colonists was undoubtedly small. The following ap-
pear to have been the chief: An act of the British par-
liament forbidding the cutting down of pitch and tar
trees, not being within a fence or enclosure, and sundry
acts which operated against colonial manufactures.
By one of these, it was made illegal after the 24th of
June, 1750, to erect in the colonies any mill or other
engine for slitting or rolling iron, or any plating forge,
to work with a tilt hammer, or any fnmace for mak-
ing steel. By another, hatters were restrained from
taking more than two apprentices at a time, or any
for less than seven years. The colonists were also
prohibited from transporting hats and home manu-
factured woolens from one province to another. These
regulations were, for the most part, evaded; but if car-
ried into execution, would have been hut slightly in-
convenient, and that only to a few. These restrictions,
though seemingly a species of affront, and calculated
to keep the colonists in a constant state of inferiority
and subjection, would have been overlooked and for-
gotten had not other grievances been superadded.
39. The sad story of colonial oppression began in the
U Is^ I T E D .STATES
r.io
I
I
Colonial vear 1764. Great Britain then ailopteil new regulations
"PP'**'- -^respecting her colonists, which, after disturbing the
ancient harmony of the two countries for about twelve
years, terminated in the dismemberment of the em-
pires. These consisted in restricting their former com-
merce, but more especially in subjecting them to taxa-
tion by the British parliament. The imposition of
duties, for the purpose of raising a revenue in America,
was considered as a dangerous innovation, but the
methods adopted for securing their collection were re-
sented as arbitraty and unconstitutional. It was enacted
by parliament, that whoever was caught violating the
acts, should be tried in the courts of admiralty. Thus
the defendant in such a case was deprived of the right
of trial by jurj^, and subjected to the necessity of hav-
ing his case decided upon by a single man, a creature
of the crown, whose salary was to be paid out of for-
feitures adjudged by himself. Moreover, the prose-
cutor was not called upon to prove his accusation, so
the defendant was obliged, either to evince his inno-
cence or to suffer. Thus the guards which the British
constitution had placed around property and the bar-
riers which the ancestors of both countries had erected
against arbitrary power, were thrown down, as far as
they concerned the colonists thus charged with violat-
ing the laws for raising a revenue in America.
40. After the peace of Paris, 1763. the national debt
of Great Britain amojnted to nearly 150,000.000 ster-
ling. To aid in diminishing this heavy debt, the British
minister conceived the idea of raising a substantial rev-
enue in the British colonies, from taxes imposed by the
parliament of the mother country. On the one hand it
was urged that the late war had originated on account
of the colonies — that it was reasonable, since it had
terminated in a manner so favorable to their interests,
that they should help to defray the expenses arising
from it. Thus far both parties were agreed; but Eng-
Kngii-h ^i^d contended that her parliament, as the supreme
Theory power, had the constitutional right to impose them on
of Colonial every part of the empire. This theory, plausible in
laxaiion. jtgg]f_ ^jjj j^ accordance with the letter of the British
constitution, when all the dominions were represented
TheCoi- in one assembly, was denied by the colonies as con-
Thfory of 'rary to the spirit of the same government, when, on
Taxation- account of the extension of the empire,it was necessary
to have many distinct representative assemblies. The
colonists believed that the chief exceUence of the
British constitution consisted in the right of the subject
to grant or withhold taxes, and in their having a share
in enacting the laws by which they were to be bound.
They conceived that the superiority of the British con-
stitution to other forms of government was. not be-
cause of the parliament's forming the supreme council
of the nation, but because the people had a share in it
by appointing members who constituted one of its
constituent branches, and without whose concurrence i
no law. binding on them, could be enacted. In the |
parent state it was asserted to be essential to the unity 1
of the empire, that the British parliament should have
the right of taxation over every part of the royal
dominions. In the colonies it was believed that taxa-
tion and representation were inseparable, and that
they, as colonies, could neither be free nor happy if
their property could be taken from them without their
consent. The American people reasoned thus: That if
the British parliament, in which they had no repre-
sentation, were able to take any part of their property
from them by direct taxation, then they might take
as much as they pleased, and there would be no
sectirity for anything that remained from further
spoliation.
41. The colonists claimed that they had the exclusive
right of laying taxes on themselves, free from ex-
traneous influences, just as much as the British Par-
liament claimed the peculiar privilege of raising money
independent of the crown. The parent state appeareil
to the colonists to stand in the same relation to ihtir
local legislators as the monarch of Great Britain to the
British Parliament. His perogative is limited by that
palladium of the people's liberty, the exclusive privi-
lege of p-ranting their own money. In fact, they
claimed that though subjects of the King, they were
not under the control of the British Parliament ; that
if the King required money of the colonies, he must
obtain it through colonial legislation, just as in Eng-
land he would obtain it through the British
Parliament.
43. The charters, which were supposed to contain the Thedispuu
principles on which the colonies were founded, became ahoat the
the subject of serious investigation on both sides. One Charters.
clause was found to run through the whole of them,
except that which had been granted to William Penn.
This was a declaration, ' ' that the emigrants to' America
should enjoy the same privileges as if they had re-
mained, or had been born, within the realm ; ' but such
was the subtilty of disputants that both parties con-
strued this general principle so as to favor their respec-
tive opinions. The American people contended, that as
English freeholders could not be taxed but by repres-
entatives, in choosing whom they had a vote, neither
could the colonists ; but it was answered that if the
colonists had remained in England they must have
been bound to pay the tax,is imposed by Parliament.
It was therefore inferred that, though taxed by
that authority, they lost none of the rights of native
Englishmen residing at home. The advocates of the
British policy could see nothing in charters but security
against taxes by royal authority. The colonists, ad-
hering to the spirit more than to the letter, looked
upon their charters as a protection against all taxes
not imposed by representatives of their own choice.
The nature and extent of the connection between
Great Britain and America was a great constitutional nc/tfonba-
question, involving many interests and the general twcen
principles of civil liberty. It was a vain attempt to l;^^-;\
decide this by any other recourse to parchment authori- Amerka*"
ties, made at a time long past, when neither the grantor
nor grantees forsaw anything like the present state
of the two countries. It needed great skill and tact to
so manage affairs, that everything might redound to the
satisfaction and good of all concerned ; to strike the
middle line which would have secured as much liberty
to the colonies, and as great a degree of supremacy to
the mother country as their common good required.
But this skill was lacking in British statesmanship.
On the one hand, the spirit of the British constitution
was opposed to the idea that the British Parliament
should exercise the same unlimited authority over the
unrepresented colonies which it exercised over the in-
habitants of Great Britain. The colonists, on the other
hand, did not claim a total exemption from its authority,
but allowed the mother country a certain undefined
prerogative over them ; and accepted the idea that
Parliament had a right to make any acts binding them
in many subjects of internal policy and regulating theii
trade. That nice point, which marked the end of par-
liamentary authority and the beginning of the colonial
independence, was not ascertained. Had the question
never been agitated, or had a satisfactory compromise
been effected, the American Revolution, undoubtedly,
would never have become a part of our history.
43. ThegreatFrenchandlndianwar, though crowned
with success, had aroused a spirit of discontent in the .
colonies. From the beginning, as has been shown, the st?k-Uve
commercial policy of England toward the colonies had Policy of
been wholly restricted. "It was a system of monopoly. " £"=!»"<*•
Her navigation laws had closed their ports against
foreign vessels ; obliged them to export their produc-
tions only to countries belonging to the British cro-wn ;
to import European goods solely from England, and in
English ships ; and hid subjected the trade between
the colonies to duties. All manufactures, too, in the
730
UNITED STATES
The At-
tempt to
CDllect
Duties.
The Stamp
Act,
Thp Pro-
viHionn of
111'- Stamp
Art.
The oicite-
nu-nt prO'
diicc'd by
the jiaeHu;;*'
•f tlie Act
colonies, that might interfere with those of the mother
country had been either totally prohibited, or subjected
to intolerable restraints. The acts of Parliament, im-
posing these restrictions and prohibitions, had at
various times caused great discontent and opposition on
the part of the colonists, especially among those of
New England. But nothing so aroused the jealous
sensibilities of the colonists as any attempts on the
part of the parent state to raise a revenue from them
by taxation. They had ever maintained, from the
earliest period of their establishment, that they could
only be taxed by a legislature in which they were
represented.
44. While the French war was in progress, many
projects were hatched in England with regard to the
colonies which were to be put in force when peace
was declared. In 17G0, an attempt was made in Boston
to collect duties on foreign sugar and molasses im-
ported into the colonies. Writs of assistance were
applied for by customhouse officers, empowering them
to break open stores, ships and private dwellings in
search of goods that had paid no duty, and to compel
others to assist them in carrying out their odious
measures. The merchants opposed the writ on con-
stitutional grounds. The question was brought into
the courts, where James Otis argued so eloquently in
favor of American rights, that all who heard him were
ready to oppose all writs of assistance. John Adams,
who was present, said, "Then and there was the first
scene of opposition to the arbitrary claims of Great
Britain. Then and there American Independence was
born." la his speech, Otis used the words, "Taxation
without representation is tyranny." This sentence
became a watchword in America during the exciting
times which followed.
45. In 1765 Lord Grenville, having previously given
notice of his intentions to the American agents in
London, introduced into Parliament a long cherished
scheme for the purpose of raising a revenue from the
American colonies by means of a stamp duty. Peti-
tions poured in against it from the Americans, and at
first it met with strong opposition in the House of
Commons. But the remonstrances of the colonies
could not change the avaricious feelings of Parliament,
and the bill passed by a large majority. Those short-
sighted legislators did not foresee that in the passage
of an act so odious to the colonics, they were awaken-
ing an opposition and spirit of independence among
them which would materially weaken their own
power. The night after the bill passed Benjamin
Franklin, who was then in London, wrote to Mr.
Charles Thomson, "The sun of liberty is set; you
must light up the candles of industry and economy."
Mr. Thomson answered, "I was apprehensive that
other lights would be the consequence, and I foresee
the opposition that will be made."
46. I3y this act, no written instrument, such as com-
mercial transactions, marriage licenses, deeds, suits at
law, and the like, could be legal, unless stamped paper
was used, which the colonists were compelled to pur-
chase at an exorbitant price of the British agents.
Moreover, it contained another startling provision, and
that was, that the colonial legislatures were commanded
to grant permission to billet the royal troops in
America in inns, alehouses, barns, and vacant houses,
and to furnish them with bedding, potables, candles,
cooking utensils, etc. As soon as it became known
that the Stamp Act was passed, the colonies, from one
end of the land to the other, were full of indignation.
•Parliament had turned a deaf ear to their petitions, and
showed by the passage of the Act a determination to
treat them, not as English citizens, but as servants and
slaves. Parliament, they said, might make laws to
regulate the commerce of the empire, and so draw a
revenue from America, but it had no right to levy a
direct tax like this. Only the coloniel government.
elected by the people, could do such a thing. They
must either surrender without a struggle their liberty,
or oppose strongly and firmly the grasping avarice of a
nation, the most powerful in the world,
47. They were not long in making up their decision
and proclaiming it to the world. The legislature of
Virginia was in session when the news arrived. Patrick patricv
Henry, then a young man, but possessed of brilliant Henry.
talents, opposed it with all the energy of his great
mind. He brought before the house five resolutions
which were adopted, and which closed by declaring,
"That any person, who, by speaking or acting, should
assert or maintain that any class of men except the
general assembly of the province, had a right to im-
pose taxation, he should be considered an enemy to his
majesty's colony." In advocating these resolutions,
he boldly denounced the policy of the British govern-
ment, and declared that the king had acted the part of
the tyrant. Warming up with his subject, and >illud-
ing to the fate of other tyrants, he exclaimed with
flashing eyes and in thunder tones. "Ccesar haA bis
Brutus, Charles I his Cromwell, and George III " —
"Treason! treason!" arose from every part of the
house. Pausing a raoment until the tumult had sub-
sided, he added, "may profit by their example. If
this is treason make the most of it." Similar senti-
ments flew like lightning through the other colonies.
The tongues and pens of the citizens labored to kindle
the latent sparks of patriotism. The press strongly
Opposed the innovation and called upon the citizens to
resist it.
48. The expediency of calling a continental congress. The Contt-
to be composed of deputies from each of the provinces, nentaj Con*
had early occurred to Massachusetts. So the assembly ^^^''•
of that province fixed on New York as the place, and
the second Tuesday of October, 1765, as the time for
holding the congress, and invited all the other colonies
to send delegates to the same. Nine'colonies took part
in it, and sent their most distinguished men. For the
first time the whole country had a common cause, and
there was need that the people should consult together.
This congress drew up a declaration of their rights and
a statement of their grievances. They asserted in
strong terms their exemption from all taxes not im-
posed by their own representatives. They also con-
curred in a petition to the king, a memorial to the
House of Lords, and a petition to the House of Com-
mons. The colonies that were prevented from sending
their delegates, forwarded petitions, similar to those
which were adopted by the deputies who attended.
49. On the Ist of November, the day on which the
Stamp Act was to go into operation, the bells were
tolled, and the flags hung at half mast, as if for the
"funeral of liberty." The courts were closed; busi-
ness was suspended. The houses of the British oflicials
were attacked by mobs, and the effigies of the planners
of the Act were carried about the streets in public
derision and then burned, or torn in pieces by the
enraged populace. In different parts of the country
the stamp- masters were compelled to resign their
offices to prevent being mobbed. The Stamp Act was
so formed that the penalty of disobedience would be
no less than the suspension of the whole machinery of
the political and social order, and the creation of a
state of anarchy. Neither trade nor navigation could
proceed, no contract could be legally made, no process
against an offender could be instituted, no student
could receive a diploma, nor even could the estates of
the dead be legally settled, or the marriage ceremony
performed, until the stamp duty was paid. By degrees,
however, things began to assume their usual course,
and all kinds of business was transacted in open
defiance of the Act.
50. Associations, under the title of the "Sons ofSoneof
Liberty," were formed in every part of the country. Liberty.
They denounced the Stamp Act "as being an outrage on
r X I T E ]) STATES
isi
Tbe Effect
in England
Repeal of
the Stamp
Act
How the
Newg was
Received.
I
A new
Scheme of
Tasfltion.
Tbe Seiz-
ore of Han
cwk's
Sloop
the British constitution, and resolved that they would
defend those who fell into the hands of British tyr-
anny, on account of their clinging to their rights as
freemen. Merchants resolved to import no more goods
from Great Britain until the act was repealed, and the
people generally denied themselves the use of foreign
luxuries. No one would venture to carry the Stamp
Act in*o execution; in fact, no stamped paper was to
be seen; all had been either destroyed or concealed.
51. The information of tbe violent proceedings of the
colonies was received in England with consternation.
A small party in Parliament upheld the colonies. In
the House of Commons William Pitt uttered the mem-
orable words: ■■'We are told that America is obstinate
— America is in open rebellion. Sir, I rejoice that
Amr-rica has resetted .' Three millions of people so dead
to all the feelings of liberty as voluntarily to submit to
be slaves would have been fit instruments to make
slaves of all the rest." In the meantime Lord Gren-
ville had been dismissed, and the Marquis of Rocking-
h tro. a friend of the Americans, appointed in his place.
Under his administration the obnoxious Stamp Act was
lepealed March 18, 1766, for the English government
8\w that it was impossible to enforce it. At the same
time. Parliament took care to say that it "had a right
to bind the colonies in ell cistS whateter."
52. The news of the repeal was received with the
liveliest expressions of joy and gratitude. Public
thanksgivings were held, English goods imported and
a general calm succeeded the storm which had raged
so violently. By the people of New England and New
York less joy was felt. They feared, from the passage
of the declaratory act, that this was only a truce in the
war against American rights. In the mirror of the
past they saw reflected the future, and trembled at the
picture. Nor were their suspicions unfounded.
Scarcely had the excitement over the Stamp Act died
out, when other causes of complaint arose. In June,
1767, Charles Townsend, chancellor of the exchequer,
brought into Parliament a bill imposing duties in the
British colonies on glass, paper, painters' colors and
tea, which became a law. Another law was also en-
acted, appointing oflScers of the navy as custom-house
ofiBcers, to enforce the act of trade and navigation.
Previous to this new act of tyranny, the legislative
power of New York had been suspended, until it
Bhould furnish the king's troops with certain supplies
»t the expense of the colony.
53. Early in 1768 the general court of Massachusetts
sent a petition to the king, and addressed circular let-
ters to the colonial assemblies, asking their co-opera-
tion in obtaining the redress of their grievances. The
British ministry were alarmed and demanded of the
court that they should rescind the vote directing circu-
lars to be sent. The assembly refused, and the gov-
ernor dissolved it. This attempt to intimidate only
served to strengthen the opposition. Shortly after
this Mr. Hancock's sloop Liberty was seized for not
having entered all the wines brought from Madeira.
This act of the custom-house officers was resented by
the people. The houses of the officials were attacked,
and they were compelled to seek safety in flight. The
refractory spirit of the citizens of Boston had been dis-
played on so many occasions that General Gage was
directed to station one or more regiments there to over-
awe the citizens and protect the officers in the dis-
charge of their duties. Two regiments were accord-
ingly ordered from Halifax, who took possession of the
state house, and planted two pieces of cannon at the
principal entrance. All this only tended to increase
the general indignation.
54. Early in the year 1769 Parliament passed resolu-
tions censuring the conduct of the citizens of Massa-
chusetts, and directing the governor to make strict in-
quiries as to all treasons committed in that province
since the year 1767, that the offenders might Kj sent to
England for trial. The legislature of Virginia, on the
receipt of that order, passed resolutions denying the
right of the king to remove an offender out of the col-
ony— away from his home and friends — for trial. The
governor, on hearing of the resolutions, immediately
dismissed the assembly. The members met at a private
house, and entered into a written agreement not to im-
port any of the taxed articles. Their example was ex-
tensively followed. The assemby of Massachusetts
convened, but refused to proceed to business while
armed troops surrounded the stat« house. The gov-
ernor refused to remove them, and the assembly ad-
journed to Cambridge. Toward the close of the sea-
son the governor requested them to provide funds to
pay for the quartering of the troops, but they refused,
declaring that they would never make any provisions
to support a standing army among them in times of
peace. The governor, therefore, prorogued the assem-
bly.
55. The presence of the soldiers in Boston was a '"'"' Boston
constant cause of irritation, and the citizens had many ' ^^^"^"^
quarrels with them. At length on March 5, 1770, a
serious collision occurred between the troops and a
mob, and the soldiers fired, killing five of the crowd,
and mortally wounding two others. The reports of
..his Boston massacre, as it was called, were greatly
exaggerated, and filled the country with excitement.
The citizens assembled in crowds, and could only be
dispersed by the governor promising them that justice
should be done. The troops were removed from the
city, and Captain Preston, who ordered the firing, and
his men tried for murder. Although the excitement
was intense, yet such was the love of justice that the
soldiers, who were defended by John Adams and Josiah
Quincy, were all acquitted except two, who were con-
victed of manslaughter.
56. In England, on the very day of the outrage in
Boston, Lord North was called to the British Ministry.
He introduced a bill into Parliament which passed Lord
on April 13, removing the duties that had been '•!idg°["'''
in 1767, excepting that on tea, but still declaring their
right of taxing the colonies. For a long time no tea
had been imported, and the effect had begun to be
severely felt by the British merchants. By an act of
Parliament, therefore, the East India company were
allowed to import their teas into America free of duty
in England. The naked question of the principle
regarding taxation was thus presented. The scheme
was an insidious one, but it failed most completely.
Lord North supposed that by reducing the tax on tea
to three pence a pound, the Americans would buy
largely, thus relieving the East India company, who
had large quantities of tea stored up in its English
warehouses. Tea was accordingly shipped from Eng-
land in great quantities to various parts of the colonies.
This brought matters to a crisis. One sentiment pre-
vailed throughout the whole continent. Taxation was
to receive its final blow. Whoever submitted to it was
an enemy to his country. From New York and Phila-
delphia the ships were sent back, with their cargoes, to
London. In Charleston the tea was landed, but not
permitted to be sold, and being stored in damp cellars,
finally perished. Still more decisive action was taken
in Boston. The ships anchored in the harbor. Some
small parcels of tea were brought on shore, but the sale
of them was prohibited. The captains of the vessels
would have made sail back to England, but they could
not obtain the consent of the consignees, a clearance at
the custom house, or a passport from the Governor to
clear the port. To settle the matter completely, a com-
pany of men disguised as Indians went on board the Destmc-
ships during the night and threw the cargoes into the ","2^tM^
water. Three hundred and forty-two chests were thus^
broken open and the contents thrown into the harbor
(December 16. 1773).
57. When the news of this affair reached England,
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UNITED STATES
The EostoD Parliament, in order to punisii the inhabitants of Bos-
Port Uiu. jjjjj passed the Boston Port Bill in 1774, which pre-
vented the lading and unlading of goods, wares and
merchandise in that town and harbor on and after June
1. 1774, and the seat of government was to be transferred
to Salem. But the people of Salem refused to build
their fortunes on the ruins of their countrymen, and
the inhabitants of Marblehead generously offered the
Boston people the use of their warehouses and harbor,
otiicr Ty- In the following March, two other bills, equally tyran-
Bi'n"' "' nical, passed both houses of Parliament. One subverted
the whole constitution and charter of Massachusetts,
taking all power out of the hands of the people and
vesting it in the crown. The other authorized the gov-
ernor to send any person indicted for murder or other
capital offence committed in aiding the magistracy, to
England or some other colony for trial.
Popular 58, These laws, which were gross violations of the
A2itai,.in. ^;g)j(_g ^nd charters of the colonies, excited the deepest
indignation everywhere in America. The people of
Boston, reduced to distress bj' the stoppage of their trade,
were regarded as martyrs of liberty, and contributions
were made for their relief, not only in the thirteen col-
onies, but even in London and Quebec. In Boston
itself, although patriotic meetings were held almost
daily in Faneuil Hall and the Old South Church, all
disorderly and unconstitutional proceedings were
avoided, so that nothing was done for which the British
authorities could punish the people. The friends of
the crown about this time became known as Tories,
and the popular party as Whigs. The Quebec Act,
which was passed among the other acts just mentioned,
extended the boundaries of Canada over the whole ter-
ritory situated north of the Ohio, and east of the
Mississippi. This was done to prevent Canada from
joining the rebellious colonies. The colonies warmly
protested against this concession to liberty of con-
science, for the Act sanctioned throughout the province
the free exercise of the Roman Catholic religion, and
confirmed to the clergy of that profession their accus-
tumed dues and rights, thus practically establishing the
Roman Catholic system in the new territory. To such
freedom the colonists were on principle opposed at the
time, though somewhat later they found it expedient to
adopt nearly the same policy, and to promote a closer
union among themselves by juster treatment of their
Roman Catholic brethren.
59. Committees of correspondence had already been
formed at the suggestion of Patrick Henry, Thomas
Jefferson, Richard Henry Lee and other Virginians, and
by this means the colonies took counsel together for
the common defense. In May, 1774, proposals were
made by the assemblies of several of the provinces for
a general congress of delegates. The scheme was
taken up with great enthusiasm, and on September 5,
1774, an assembly of fifty-five delegates, representing
all the colonies except Georgia, met in Philadelphia,
, under the presidency of Peyton Randolph, of Virginia.
The old This was the first or, as it is often called, the "old"
ConiiiMiitalcontiuental congress. The action of this body was still
CoDEn ^a. mainly deliberative. They passed a resolution highly
commending the conduct of Massachusetts in the con-
flict with the wicked ministers, and exhorted all to press
on in the cause of liberty. They drew up a bill of
rights, entered into an agreement for themselves and
for all their constituents to cease all importations from
Great Britain, and adopted measures for organizing
committees in every town and city to see that this
agreement was enforced by every species of popular
nflucnce. They also voted an address to the king, one
to the people of Great Britain and another to Canada.
Their petition to the king entreated him, in eloquence
the most affectionate and respectful, to restore to them
their violated rights — their rights as English freemen.
Provision was then made for another congress to meet
in the following May, unless the grievances should
meanwhile be redressed. When the proceedings of
Congress were published in England, Pit' (now Lord
Chatham) said; "For solidity of reason, force of saga- Pitfs
city and wisdom of conclusion under a complication of opinion,
difficult circumstances no nation or body of men can
stand in preference to the general congress at Phila-
delphia. The histories of Greece and Rome give us
nothing equal to it, and all attempts to impose servitude
upon such a mighty continental nation must be in
vain."
60. These resolutions of the Continental Congress
aroused the indignation of the British government.
America, they said, had long wished to become inde-
pendent, and to prevent this was the duty of every
Englishman, and that it must be done at every hazard.
In the meantime, the situation of affairs in Massachu-The Peopte
.setts became alarming. The people collected arms, en- Tak^- Arms
rolled themselves into companies and prepared to *.urE
out at a moment's notice, from which circumstance they
were called "minute men.'' Public speakeis and writ-
ers boldly defended the right of th-; people to with-
stand oppression. Royal officers were forced to resign.
General Gage began to fortify Boston Neck, and the
powder and other military stores in Cambridge and
Charleston were, by his order, removed to Boston. He
had about 4,000 troops under him, and sent home a re-
quest for 20,000 more. An assembly was called in Mas-
sachusetts, but dissolved by the governor. The mem-
bers then met in Salem, appointed a committee of
safety and sent messengers to New Hampshire, Rhode
Island and Connecticut, asking for their assistance in
raising an army of 30,000 men to act in any emergency.
England, although she could distinctly see the upheav-
ing of the violence of colonial indignation, shut her
eyes to the sight. Chatham, Burke, Fox, Barri and
other enlightened statesmen in Parliament urged the
government to recede from its untenable position, but
the obstinacy of the King prevented any conciliation;
it was resolved that America was in rebellion and must
be subdued; and so the revolution began.
61. It was a fortunate circumstance for the colonies
that the royal- army was posted in New England.
The people of that northerncountry have their passious
more under the command of reason and interest than
in a southern climate. One rash, offensive action
against the royal forces at this early period, though
successful, might have worked great mischief to the
American cause. It would have lost them European
friends and weakened the disposition of the other col-
onies to assist them. The patient and the politic New Ccmduct <rf
England men. fully sensible of their situation, submit- the People,
ted to many insults and restrained their feelings of re-
sentment. In civil wars or revolutions it is a matter of
much consequence who strikes the first blow. The
compassion of the world is nearly always in favor of
the attacked. For the space of nine months after the
arrival of General Gage the behavior of the people of
Boston is particularly worthy of imitation by those who
wish to overturn established governments. They con-
ducted their opposition with exquisite address. They
avoided every kind of outrage and violence, preserved
peace and good order among themselves, successfully
engaged the other colonies to make common cause with
them and counteracted General Gage so effectually as
to prevent his doing anything for his royal master,
while by patience and moderation they protected them-
selves from just censure. Though resolved to bear as
long as prudence and policy dictated, they were all the
time preparing for the last extremity by furnishing
themselves with arms and training their militia.
63. Provisions had also been collected and stored in The Begin-
different places, particularly at Concord, about twenty 5Jns^o"i'e
miles from Boston. General Gage sent out a detach- ^ "^^^ *'
ment of 800 men, under the command of Colonel
Smith and Major Pitcairn, to destroy these stores.
Notwithstanding the precautions taken to prevent the
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TbO
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spread of the intelligence, the march of the troops had
been well made known by expresses and signal guns.
Thus, when the British troops, early in the morning of
the 1-ith of April, 1775, reached Lexington, two-thirds
of the way to Concord, they found a small body of
Americans, under Captain Parker, drawn up on the
common to dispute the way. Captain Parker had
given orders not to fire unless fired upon. The British
troops rushed upon them, firing and calling upon them
Leiinstor. to disperse. Eight of the Americans were killed and
coni^°° and several more wounded. The little band of patriots
slowly retreated, returning the fire as they went, and
the British kept on to Concord, where they destroyed
a few stores. At a bridge near the village they encoun-
tered 400 Americans, hastily collected from the neigh-
boring towns, and were so warmly received that they
began a hasty retreat. The militia pressed them on all
sides; the retreat became a rout, and when the British
were at last rescued by the arrival of Lord Percy with
reinforcements, they had lost 273 men. They continued
their retreat under Percy, bearing their dead and
wounded with them. All the way, from behind stone
walls, fences and farmhouses, the angry farmers galled
them with shot. They did not desist until the troops
had crossed Charlestown Neck and were safe under the
guns of the British vessels.
63. As arms were to decide the controversy, it was
another fortunate circumstance fur the Americans that
the first blood was drawn in Kew England. The inhab-
itants of that country were so connected with each
other by descent, manners, religion, politics and a gen-
eral equality, that the killing of a single individual in-
terested the whole people and made them consider it a
common cause. The blood of those who were killed at
Lexington and Concord proved to be the firm cement
of an extensive union. Intelligence of these events
spread like wild fire throughout the couutrj'; the torch
of war had been lighted, blood had been offered on the
altar of liberty, fearfully was the death of those patri-
ots slain at Lexington and Concord to be avenged.
Couriers galloped in every direction, beating a drum,
and shouting in tones that thrilled every listening ear,
"To arms, to arms! liberty or death." The streets of
Lexington and Concord had been soaked in blood, and
the whole country was in a blaze of wrath. But amidst
the intense excitement which prevailed, the still thor-
oughly English characteristics of the people mani-
fested themselves. The provmcial congress of Massa-
chussetls, which was in session at the time of the fight,
dispatched an account of it to Great Britain, accom-
panied with many depositions to prove that the British
were the aggressors. They also made an address to the
people of Great Britain, in which, after complaining
of their sufferings, they said: " These have not yet de-
tached us from our royal sovereign; we profess to be
dutiful and loyal subjects, and though hardly dealt
with as we have been, are still ready wiih our lives
and fortunes to defend his person, crown and dignity.
Nevertheless, to the persecution and tyranny of his
evil ministry, we will not tamely submit." From this
commencement of hostilities, the dispute between
Great Britain and the colonists took a new direction.
64. Up to this time no party in America had thought
of a separation from the mother country, but now the
colonists were aflame with the spirit of independence.
Thj! Gather-Mechanics left their shops, and farmers the plow, and
hurried to the scene of conflict. In the course of one
or two days the king's army found itself besieged in
Boston by an irregular and ill-furnished, but large and
determined body of men who matched to the scene of
action from all parts of New England. The provincial
congress of Massachussetts came together under the
presidency of Dr. Joseph Warren, voted to raise 18,000
men, and invited the other New England colonists to
make up the army to 30,000. In a few days a line of
encampment stretched from Roxbury to the river Mys-
Troops,
tic, and the British forces in Boston were environed by
an army of 20,000 soldiers. Benedict Arnold gath-
ered about him a band of voLmteers. and rushed to
Boston. Here he formed the bold plan of seizing
the important fortresses of Ticonderoga and Crown
Point.
65. Having received instructions from the committee
of safety to raise a sutticient number of men for the
purpose, he marched to Bennington, where he found
that Colonel Ethan Allen had collected a large band
for the same object. They marched on together at t'je
head of three hundred men, and reached Ticonderoga
on the 10th of May, 1775. Advancing to the gateway.
Arnold and Allen entering side by side, Allen rushed captarc of
to the governor's room and demanded his surrender. Ticonder-
"In whose name?" stammered the terrified governor rf^J,^!)'*
" In the name," said Allen, "of the Great Jehovah find point.
the Continental Congress." This was high authority.
and the governor immediately surrendered. They were
equally successful in obtaining Crown Point. By this
fortunate expedition they gained possession of two
important fortresses, and gave the American troops
about Boston a much-needed supply of arms and am-
munition.
66. The second Continental Congress met at Phila- 'The Second
delphia. May 10. the day of the capture of Ticonderoga. Con^iaentai
Peyton Randolph was at first the president, but John
Hancock soon succeeded him in that position. Wash-
ington, Jefferson, Franklin, the Adamses, Patrick Henry
and R. H. Lee, vpere members. The Congress was
moderate, and asked only for a redress of grievances,
not for independence; but it took active measures for
carrying on the war. It formed a federal union, as-
sumed the general authority of government, issued
bills of credit to the amount of three millions of dollars
for defraying the military expenses, and pledged the
faith of the United Colonies for their redemption.
TV. — THE W.\R FOR INDEPENDENCE, 1775-83.
67. In May, 1775, the British army in Boston re-
ceived reinforcements from England, under Generals
Howe, Clinton and Burgoyne, which, together with
the garrison, formed an army of more than twelve
thousand men. The Americans comprised a number
of independent commands under Generals Artemus
Ward, of Massachussetts; Israel Putnam, of Connecti-
cut; Nathanael Green, of Rhode Island, and other
states, General Ward being recognized as chief. The
whole number of men was about sixteen thousand.
Upon the arrival of the English reinforcements, Gen-
eral Gage now proclaimed martial law throughout the
state, offering pardon, however, to all rebels who
would return to their allegiances, excepting Samuel
Adams and John Hancock. The Americans, learning
that General Gage was determined to penetrate into the
country bj' the way of Charlestown Neck, issued orders
to Colonel Prescott, on the evening of the l6th of .June,
to take one thousand men and form an intrenchment
on Bunkers Hill, an eminence which commanded the
neck of the Charlestown peninsula. By some mistake
they went further on, and occupied Breed's Hill. Al
midnight those stern hearted men stood on the top
while Putnam marked out the line of entrenchments
By daylight they had thrown up a redoubt eight rods
square, in which they could shelter themselves. In the
morning the English otBcers and the people of Boston
could hardly believe their eyes as they saw this ledoubt
almost over their heads. The patriots on the hill were
first seen from the ships, which immediately opened
fire. All the artillery of the city and the floating bat-
tery were pointed against that single, silent structure.
Still those hardy heroes toiled on amid the storm of
shot and shell which fell among them, until by noon
they had run a trench nearly down to the Mystic river
on the north; then laying down their picks and shovels
740
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they took up their muskets, and prepared themselves
for the coming attack.
Battle of 68. The cannonading having failed to dislodge the
»»D«k(-rHnl Americans, about noon Gage sent abody of about three
thousand men, under Howe and Pigot to carry the
height by assault. Having crossed the Charles river
from Boston in boats, they advanced up the hill under
cover of fire from the ships and batteries. The pro-
vincials stood firm. "Don't one of you fire," was the
command of Putnam, "till you see the whites of their
eyes." The English advanced, stopping every few
yards, to deliver their deep and regular volleys against
the intrenchment; but not a shot replied. That silence
was more awful than the thunder of cannon. When
the hostile columns had almost reached the works, the
stern order '•Fire!" rang with starling clearness on the
air. Suddenly a sheet of flame burst from that low,
dark wall, and down went the enemy rank b}' rank.
Their lines wavired, then broke, and the troops fell
l)ack in disordev to the landing place. There they
Tallied, and soon moved forward again to the charge,
and again were driven back by the steady fire of the
•colonists. At this critical moment General Clinton
arrived with reinforcements. By his exertions the
troops were again rallied, and a third time advanced to
the charge. Throwing aside their knapsacks and
reserving their fire, the soldiers, with fixed bayonets,
inarched swiftly and steadily over the heaps of their
fallen comrades, up to the intrenchments. Only one
volley struck them, for the Americans had fired their
last rounds of ammunition, and were without bayonets.
Clubbing their muskets, they still beat back the enemy,
until the order was given to retreat, when they retired
slowly and made good their way over Charlestown
Neck. At the beginning of the retreat the brave Gen-
eral Warren was killed. The Am(;ricans lost 449 in
killed, wounded, and prisoners, while the British loss
was nearly L.'JOO. The result of the battle was encour-
aging to the provincials. It give them confidence in
tiiemselves, and consequence in the eyes of their
enemies. They had proved to themselves and others
that they could measure weapons vith the disciplined
troops of Europe, and inflict the most harm in the con-
flict. This dear bought victory, won only through the
exhaustion of the American's powder, was so little sat-
isfactory to the British Government that General Gage
was supeiseded by General Howe. This engagement,
known as the battle of Bunker Hill, was the first real
battle of the Revolutionary War.
Waehlii"- 69. In the meantime. Congress on the 15th of June,
ton ap- " at Philadelphia, elected George Washington, by a
Eomraand unanimous vote, to the high ofllce of commander-in-
«r-in"h?e{. chief of the united colonies. Washington, who was
present, accepted the appointment, expressing a sense
of the high honor which he had received, and the vast
responsibity of the station. He refused to accept any
compensation for his services, merely asking Congress
to defray his expenses. Congress also adopted the
unorganized force before Boston, naming it the Con-
tinental Army. In subordination to the commander-
in-chief, Messrs. Ward, Charles Lee, Schuyler, and
Putnam were appointed major-generals; Horatio Gates,
adjutant-general, and Messrs. Pomeroy, Montgomery
and ;Wooster, Heath, Thomas, Spencer, Sullivan and
Greene, brigadier-generals. Soon after his election,
General Washington, accompanied by Lee, proceeded
to Cambridge to take command of the army, which
amounted to about 14,000 men. He found them a
crowd of brave, undisciplined soldiers, unprovided
with arms, ammunition, and provisions. His first busi-
ness was to organize them into an army, while he kept
watch over the British in Boston.
Atinokon 70. Meanwhile an expedition was organized for an
Canada, attack on Canada, under the command of General
Schuyler; but Schuyler, falling sick by the way, the
command devolved on Richard Montgomery. This
officer captured St. John's and Chambly, both on the
Sorel river, and then made himself master of Montreal;
but in making an assault on Quebec, December31,1775,
he was repulsed, losing his own life, while Benedict
Arnold, another leader, was wounded. Sometime
afterward the British army in Canada was reinforced,
and the Americans were obliged to abandon all designs
in that quarter. While these events were taking place
on the northern frontiers, English ships were laying
waste towns and cities upon the Atlantic coast Bris-
tol in Rhode Island, and Falmouth in Massachusetts,
were burned because they had taken part in the rebel-
lion. Congress thought it time to turn its attention to
the construction of armed vessels. Thirteen were ac-
cordingly fitted out, a navy established, and a large
number of privateers licensed, which scoured the seas «'*'*'??'
and did great injury to the English commerce. Gen- '^®''^®"-
eral Washington employed in the service several
cruisers to intercept the store ships of the enemy.
Regular courts of admiralty were established for the
adjudication of prizes, and by these timely measures
much good was accomplished.
71. In the summer of 1775, Dunmore, the royal in um
Governor of Virginia, was driven out of Williamsburg, Sonft.
then the capital of the colony, and obliged to seek
safety on board a British man-of-war. Collecting some
ships and a considerable number of men, partly slaves
and indented servants, to whom he promised freedom,
he burned Norfolk (January,1776), which was the largest
and richest town in Virginia, and made descents upon
various parts of the coast. In North Carolina there
was some sharp fighting between the Tory settlers and
the patriotic militia, in which the Tories were worsted.
In South Carolina, the gallant defense of Charleston
(.lune, 1776.) where a British fleet, under Sir Peter
Parker, aided by a large land force, under General
Clinton, was beaten ofE with great loss by a small body
of men commanded by Colonel Moultrie, filled the
colonists with encouragement.
73. During the year 1775 the royal government was
generally terminated throughout the country, the
King's governors abdicating their posts and taking
refuge on board the English shipping. An act was
passed by the English Government prohibiting all trade
and commerce with the rebellious provinces, and
authorizing the capture of all American and other
vessels found trading with the colonies, and the crews
of the captured vessels were to be treated, not aa
prisoners, but as slaves. The colonists had sent over
their last petition, styled the Olive Branch, to the King,
but both houses of Parliament refused to hear it,
alleging that they could not receive any proposition
coming from an unlawful assembly. Until now they
hoped for reconciliation with the mother country, but
the rejection of this last petition determined the com-
plete separation of Great Britain and the colonies.
73, At the beginning of 1776 Washington, by thejsveiua
help of Congress, had succeeded in getting into mili- of Ittr.
tary order the army, which now ceased to be a col-
lection of little colonial militia organizations. On the
2d of January he hoisted the Union flag in compliment
of .the.Uniled Colonies. This flag bore the stripswhich
are found in the flag of today, but the crosses of St.
George and St. Andrew were retained on a blue ground
in the corner, blending the ideas of a new nationality
and English supremacy. The present flag was adopted
June, 14, 1777. Early in March, Washington was
ready to drive the British out of Boston. On the
night of the 4th he occupied and fortified
Dorchester Heights, oveHooking the harbor. General
Howe, who succeeded George, saw that he must fight
at a great disadvantage, or abandon the town. Think- Evacnation |
ing "discretion, the better part of valor," he gathered of Boetoo.
together his forces, took to the fleet and sailed away.
With him went those families which had remained
loyal to the king. Thus Boston was relieved of the
u:nited states
741
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presence of the British, to the great joy of the inhabi-
tants. There was now open war between the two
countries. But after this Kew England scarcely knew
the presence of soldiers, as it became the policy of Eng-
land to strike at the heart of the colonies. Putting
Boston in a state of defense, Washington now hastened
to New York, where he was certain the next blow
would be struck, and Lee was ordered to take command
of the troops in the South. The fortifications which
Lee had begun were hastily completed. Greene was
placed in command of a division on Long Island.
Measures were taken to disarm the Tory inhabitants,
and the royal governor, Tryon, was driven to seek
refuge on board a British man of -war in the lower bay.
Tb«/>\ ject 74. Even after the war had fairly begun, the colonies
•r s«re>>- gtill looked forward to a reconciliation with the mother
"' country and the first proposals of a separation were
received with general disapproval. But the conflict of
arms, and the obstinate refusals of all overtures on the
part of Parliament, gave impulse to a bolder policv. All
this time the Second Continental Congress was in
session at Philadelphia, and it agreed to consider
definitely the question of independence. Then it took
a recess of four weeks, to give the delegates an oppor-
tunity to go back to the people and learn what was the
general judgment. When the members returned to
their seats there was no longer any doubt what course
should be pursued. A committee had been appointed
to propose a full declaration. The committee was elected
by ballot, and consisted of Thomas Jefferson, John
Adams, Benjamin Franklin, Roger Sherman, and
Robert R. Livingston. Mr. Jefferson and Mr. Adams
acted as a sub-committee to prepare the draft, and Mr.
The Declir-Jefferson drew up the paper. The chief merit of the
Tndepeu- document is his. Some changes were made in it, on
4ence. the suggestion of other members of the committee, and
by others in Congiess while it was under discussion.
On July 3, 1776. Congress adopted the resolu-
tion, "That these United Colonies are, and of right
ought to be, free and independent states ; that they are
absolved from all allegiance to the British crown, and
that all political connection between them and the
State of Great Britain is, and ought to be, totally dis-
solved." Two days latter Congress adopted the declar-
ation written by Jefferson. It declared what were the
natural rights of all men ; it recited the acts of George
III, King of Great Britain, by which he had abused
his authority over the colonies, and deprived them of
their rights and liberties. It reminded the world how
patiently the colonies had born their injuries ; of the
petitions tney had addressed to the King, which had
been disregarded ; how the colonies had appealed, not
to the King only, but to their brethren, the people of
England, but that all had been in vain. Therefore, as
the representatives of the United States of America, in
general Congress assembled, the delegates published
this declaration of the independence of the States. The
declaration was received by the people with demon-
The Effect strations of joy. Washington caused it to be read to
tl^ltioD ^'8 solciers in New Yoik on the 9th of July. On the
•same evening the excited inhabitants pulled down a
leaden statue of George III on horseback, which stood
on the Bowling Green, and it was melted into bullets
for the use of the patriot army. In all the other parts
of the country the joy was intense.
The Effect 75. The British ministry were confounded at what they
"'^''='*' ''called the daringenormity of the colonists, in spurning the
royal power and authority. They were surprised that
rebels dared to show such temper and spirit. Forth>
with they determined by augmented forces to crush
them at a blow, and to coerce them into a sense of
duty and submission to their king. Doubting the com-
petency of their own power to subjugate the colonies,
the English Parliament, at an immense expense, re-
sorted to the aid of foreign mercenaries to carry on
their bioody work. 17.000 troops, hired from the
German States, were conveyed hither to »id in the sub-
jugation of the colonies.
76. When the British had failed to get possession of The^ Attack
South Carolina in the early summer of 1776, they y^rt"
turned their attention to New York. The American
army was intrenched on Long Inland and 'he heights
overlooking New York when the British fleet entered
the harbor and landed some of their troops on Sta'en
Island. General Howe and bis bro'her. Admiral Howe,
had been appointed commissioners tc receive the sub-
mission of any rebels who might throw themselves on
the king's mercy. They had been instructed to pro-
pose conditions of peace, but they had no authority to
grant independence, and Washington refused any other
terms. On the 23d of August th<i British forces under
Generals Clinton, Cornwallis, Porter and Grant, landed
on the southern shore of Long Island. The larger part of
the American army was posted in what is now the heart
of Brooklyn. General Putnam was in command of
Long Island, but his army was greatly inferior in num-
bers and equipments to the enemy. On the morning on
August 27, Putnam was attacked by the British and
compelled to retreat to Brooklyn. Had the British gen-
eral followed up his advantage, he might have slain or
captured all of Putnam's force. But »t nightfall, under
cover of the fog. Washington skillfully withdrew all
the forces on the Brooklyn side and united them with
the rest of his army in New Y''ork. He had completely
foiled the enemy.
77. It was impossible to hold New York, because it Evataatioii.
could be shelled from Brooklyn Heights and attacked "^ ^^^
on both sides bj- the English fleet, so Washington with- °' '
drew his forces to Harlem Heights, and fortified him-
self there. The British then entered New York, and it
remained in their hands until the close of the war.
The condition of the patriots was now deplorable.
The £rmy, greatly reduced by tosses in battle, was still
further weakened by desertions and insubordination.
Thousands of disheartened soldiers went hom^,. But
Washington succeeded in partly establishing discipline,
and opposed so bold a front to the enemy that Howe
aid not venture to attack him directly. Lord Corn-
wallis, however, succeeded in gaining a position on the
opposite side of the Hudson. Washington was com
pelled to withdraw across the river, knowing that the
enemy would aim for Philadelphia. The two armies
crossed New Jersey in hot haste, Washington maneu- operatioos
vering so as to defeat the British design of cutting him in New
ofl from that city. The armies, while in motion, were^''^''^'^^-
often in sight of each other. Washington continued
his retreat slowly, followed by the enemy, until early
in December he crossed the Delaware river near Tren-
ton. Howe now thought the campaign over, and went
into winter quarters.
78. The succession of disasters, beginning with th:
battle of Long Island, greatly discouraged the Ameri-
cans. The legislatures of New Jersey and Pennsyl-
vania adjourned and left the states almost without & -
government. Congress, fearing for its safety in Phila-
delphia, removed to Baltimore, leaving Washington
with almost dictatorial powers. Apathy and disorder
prevailed among the troops, many of whom had to
march with bare, bleeding feet along the frozen roads.
A great number of prominent persons, believing that
the cause of independence was lost, hastened to make
their peace with the British authorities. It was truly a
time which "tried men's souls." Amidst the prevail-
ing gloom, Washington stood firm. Strengthened by
the arrival of Lee's division, now under command of
Sullivan, since the capture of Lee by the British,
Washington determined to strike a blow that would re-
vive the drooping courage of the people. He resolved
to fall upon a detachment of Hessian troops, stationed
at Trenton under Rhal, and chose Christmas night for
the attack. Recrossing the Delaware with 2.-t00 men. Rgtuo.
he attacked the town while the Hessians weie carou,"^ ofTrentoi.
U X I T E D STATES
©f PriDce-
tOD
to France.
ing, and completely routed thorn, taking one thousand
prisoners.
79. This brilliant exploit had a wonderful efEect
upon the people. The soldiers who were about to re-
turn home consented to serve six months longer; Con-
gress, which had exhibited great firmness during these
times of trial, put forth fresh efforts to strengthen the
army, and Washington, invested for six months with
the authority of a dictator, crossed the Delaware again
and occupied Trenton. Cornwallis now advanced to-
ward that place with all his available forces, and Wash-
ington's danger was greater than before. But again
his masterly genius prevailed. Leaving his camp fires
burning, he abandoned his position, passed silently
around the enemy, and at sunrise (January 3, 1T7T),
The Bs'Uefell upon the British reserves at Princeton, just as they
■jyere starting out to take part in the expected battle at
Trenton, and routed them. Thus Howe, instead of oc-
cupying all New Jersey, was cooped up at Brunswick
and Amboy, and Philadelphia was relieved of further
danger from Cornwallis. After these splendid suc-
cesses Washington retired with his army toward Mor-
ristown, which he made his headquarters, and arranged
his troops in safe positions between that place and the
highlands of the Hudson. Here he passed the winter,
frequently making sudden and daring exploits, without
risking a general engagement. By this means the en-
emy was compelled to abandon every post in New Jer-
sey, except New Brunswick and Perth Amboy. Phila-
delphia being now in no danger from the British, Con-
gress returned to that place.
80. Aware of the importance of inducing the French
to espouse the American cause, and relying on the en-
mity of France against Great Britain, Congress ap-
cominii- pointed as commissioners to the court of France, Ben-
«ioiier8sentjainin Franklin, Silas Deane and Arthur Lee. They
were instructed to procure arms and ammunition, and
to obtain permission to fit out American vessels in the
French ports, to annoy the commerce of England. They
also directed them to solicit a loan of 10.000,000 francs,
and to endeavor, by every means in their power to pre-
vail on the French government to recognize the inde-
pendence of the United States. The commissioners
were kindly received and obtained the aid they re-
quested, although the French government was not "will-
ing, as yet, to recognize the United States as an inde-
pendent nation.
81. Commissions were offered to French and other
foreign officers who wished to serve in the American
army, and a large number of ambitious soldiers conse-
quently embarked for America. Washington was em-
barassed by the arrival of such a large number, not all
of whom were men of merit. Among the foreigners,
however, who thus gave their services to the American
cause were several distinguished ofiicers; Baron de
Kalb, an Alsatian; Kosciusko and Pulaski, the famous
Polish patriots; Baron Steuben, an experienced and
accomplished Prussian soldier, and the young French
Marquis de La Faj'ette, who purchased a ship with
his own means and sailed for America to offer his
sword, without pay, to the cause of independence.
82. Near the end of May, 1777, the American army,
numbering about 18,000 men, moved from its winter
quarters at Morristown and took a position at Middle-
brook, on which the British left theirencampment, and
General Howe endeavored to induce General Washing-
ton to meet him on equal ground. But Washington
chose to continue his defensive warfare, and not to
risk an open battle. Finding various feints and at-
tempts ineffectual, Howe ordered a hasty retreat to
Staten Island. He then embarked 16,000 troops, and
leaving Sir Henry Clinton in command at New York,
put to sea, keeping his destination secret. On the 20th
of August, the fleet entered Chesapeake Bay, intending
an attack on Philadelphia, Washington hurried to
Philadelphia by forced marches, and on September 11,
Forf-iirn
Csmp.iien
»J 1777.
engaged Howe at Brandy wine creek. After a hard
fought battle the Americans were forced to retreat.
After some days occupied in maneuvering and skir-
mishing, on the morning of October4 Washington made
a sudden attack on Howe's position at Germantown.
For a while the victory seemed in favor of the Ameri-
cans, but, owing to a heavy fog, they became confused,
and the British troops rallied and drove them back with
heavy loss. After these battles th3 British became
masters of Philadelphia, and Washington took up his
winter quarters at Valley Forge, about twenty miles
distant from that city.
83. While these events were occurring in the middle
states, in Jul}', 1777, Burgoyne, with an army of Brit-
ish, Hessians and Indians, entered the states from Can-
ada, intending to seize the whole line of the Hudson
river. While on his route he sent out detachmen ts on both
sides, one under St. Leger against Fort Schuyler, and
another under Colonel Baum, to seize the American
stores collected at Bennington. St. Leger's enterprise
failed, and Baum was completely routed by the Green
Mountain boys at Bennington (August 16). October
7, Burgoyne was defeated by the Americans under
Gates, at Bemis Heights, and October 17 was com-
pelled to surrender at Saratoga. The surrender of Bur-
goyne proved to be the turning point of the war. It
gave artillery and arms to the American army, it en-
couraged the soldiers, and made a great impression in
Europe.
84. In the meantime the winter was passing and
bringing with it severe trials to the American army at
Valley Forge. The men were without shoes, and the
snow was stained with the marks of their bleeding
feet. There was no money to pay them. The bills
issued by Congress had become so depreciated as to be
almo.^^t worthless. Food was so scarce that Washing-
ton was authorized to seize provisions wherever he
could find them. About this time there was a plot to
compel Washington to resign, and to have Lee or
Gates put in his place. But the scheme failed, and
Washington became more popular than ever. In the
spring of 1778 the condition of affairs improved.
Robert Morris, of Philadelphia, afforded relief to the
treasury by raising large sums of money for the gov-
ernment, on his personal credit, and continued to serve
the country in this way until the end of the war.
When the news of Burgoyne's capture reached France,
she instantly made a treaty of alliance with America
(February 6, 1778), and sent out a fleet under Count
d'Estaing to aid the colonies. The news of the treaty
was received by the Americans with great joy. The
British Government now sent over commissioners to
offer terms of peace, giving the Americans all thej'
asked for, except independence, but all propositions
short of that were refused.
85. General Howe was now instructed to concentrate
all his forces in New York Consequently the British
suddenly left Philadelphia, and set out on their march.
Washington instantly left Valley Forge, and pursued
the enemy with 13,000 men. He came up with them
at Monmouth where a hotly contested, but indecisive,
battle was fought. The enemy continued their retreat,
and were enabled to gain New York. H.iving failed
in their designs against New England and the Middle
States, the British now transferred their operations to
the South. An expedition was sent by sea and Savan-
nah, Georgia, was taken at the end of the year 1778.
Augusta was then occupied, and Georgia was prac-
tically in the hands of the British. Thus ended the
campaign of 1778. General Lincoln received orders
from Congress to take command of the southern forces,
and the army under Washington retired to winter
quarters near Middle Brook, New Jersey.
86. There were no great movements during 1779.
Washington resolved to make the campaign a defensive
one. General Clinton, who commanded at New York,
Tbe BattI
of the
B randy-
wine.
The Battli
of Germai
town.
B nrgoyne'.
luvae'-
Surreu-
of Bnr
goyne.
Operat
of I77S
Tlie Proi>-
pcct Fight-
Tr.-aly
.\iiianc
with
France
Battli- ot
Moumoulh.
Tlie War in
the South.
Canipnig*
of ITtS.
I
U2sITE]) STATES
743
sent out an expedition which captured the half finished
fort at Stony Point, situated on the west bank of the
Hudson river. Washington determined upon its re-
I»d An- capture, and upon the night of July 16, it was carried
r""-^ at the point of the bayonet by the troops under the
gallant General Wayne, or "Mad Anthony Wayne" as
he was called. In October, the Americans, aided by
the French, made an attack on Savannah in order to
wrest it from the British. At the end of five hours'
hard fighting, in which the brave Pulaski was mortally
wounded, the French refused to continue the attack
.onger. and sailed for the West Indies, whereupon the
Americans retired to Charleston. This brought the
southern campaign of 1779 to an end. This year was
signalized by the victories achieved by the infant navy
of America, under the command of the intrepid Paill
Jones, who fought with the "Serapis" one of the
most desperate naval battles on record (September 23).
Operations 87. The seat of the war was now mainly in the
P""'" South. The people there were nearly equally divided
in allegiance. Savannah, the chief town of Georgia,
was already in possession of the British, and in May
Charleston was captured by them. The enemy bad
now a large army in the field in that quarter. At first
it was opposed by no united American army. The
patriotic planters gathered in companies, and rode
here and there under the leadership of daring men like
Marion and Sumter. They harassed the British wher-
ever they could find convenient points of attack.
Clinton, having gained possession of South Carolina,
returned to New York, leaving Comwallis in command.
Meantime an American force under Baron De Kalb,
had been sent by Washington to the South; but Con-
gress interfered and put Gates in De Kalb's place.
Gates, whose military capacity was much overrated,
collected together about six thousand men, and
marched hastily toward Camden, in the interior of
Battle of South Carolina. Here he was met by the British under
GundeD. Cornwallis, who inflicted a disgraceful and disastrous
defeat upon him (August 16, 1780). Duringthe fight the
heroic De Kalb lost his life. Gates fled to North
Carolina, leaving his fugitive soldiers to take care of
themselves. Soon afterward he was removed from
command, and Greene appointed in his place. In
September, 1780, Arnold's treachery against the gov-
ernment was discovered, and he was compelled to flee
to the British lines. Major Andre, who had been
arranging terms with Arnold, was captured on his
return, tried as a spy, condemned, and executed
October 2, 1780. Greene being now in command of
the American troops in the South, showed at once the
qualities of a good general. He secured additions to
the weakened southern army, and began operations
against Comwallis. In December, 1780, Greene was
Bt Charlotte. North Carolina, and Cornwallis was in
South Carolina, moving northward. Greene divided
tiis forces in two bodies. His plan was to get on each
side of the British army, and while avoiding a general
battle, to annoy the enemy continually. Although
General Greene's men were scantily clad, half starved,
and dispirited, destitute of arms and ammunition, the
officers under his command were as brave men as ever
followed a leader. Morgan, Lee, Marion, Sumter and
Colonel Washington formed a group to which the
British army could furnish no parallel. In the course
of his movements, Cornwallis dispatched Tarleton
against Morgan, who commanded one of the divisions
Thi- Battle Of Greene's army. They met at Cowpens (January 17),
ofCoMpens.and after one of the severest conflicts of the war,
Tarleton was completely defeated, with the loss of
the greater part of his force, and all his artillery and
baggage.
88. Morgan now hastened his march eastward to
join Greene, and Cornwallis followed in hot pursuit.
In order to move faster the British burned their stores
and superfluous baggage, but Morgan succeeded in
effecting a junction with Greene. Now followed a
series of masterly movements by Greene, lasting
through the winter, the spring, and the following
summer. The hostile forces met at Guilford Court Guilford
House (March 15. 1781). The battle was fought des- ^^''
perately for two hours, and all the advantages of a °°''^"
victory were on the side of the Americans. Notwith-
standing Cornwallis claimed the victory, he retreated,
closely pursued by Greene. Cornwallis avoided a
battle and retreated to Wilmington, and from there
proceeded to Petersburg, Virginia. Greene moved to
South Carolina, where he had a flght at Hobkirk's
Hill (April 25), with a force under Lord Rawdon,
whom Cornwallis had left in command. Here Greene
was compelled to retreat, but Rawdou's loss was so
great that he soon after evacuated his main position at
Camden. During April and May Greene swept
through the country, carrying the British posts in suc-
cession, until the enemy were confined to three points,
Ninety-six. Eutaw Springs and Charleston.
89. Having rested his army, Greene marched against
Eutaw Springs, where he found the British forces un-
der Colonel Stuart (Rawdon having resigned and sailed
for England) drawn up to receive him. A severe en-
gagement took place (September 8, 1781), both sides
claiming the victory. "This was the last general action
in South Carolina; the British, abandoning the open
country, retired to Charleston. Cornwallis arrived in
Virginia in May, 1781. Having received reinforcements,
he fortified himself at Yorktown, on the south side of
York river. Tarleton occupied Glouster Point, opposite
Yorktown. The British force in Virginia at tlus time
was about 8,000 men.
90. Meanwhile Washington, having been reinforced
by a lately arrived body of 6,000 French troops, under
Rochambeau, was threatening New York. About this
time the French admiral, De Grasse, who had been en-
gaged against the English in the West Indies, came
north to cooperate a little whOe with Washington, and
it was resolved, instead of carrying out on an attack
upon New York, which had been planned, to strike a
hard blow at Cornwallis in Virginia. The army of
Rochambeau marched from Newport to meet Washing-
ton in the highlands. Their destination was kept
secret, and the movements of both so artfully contrived
that Clinton supposed they were going to attack New
York. He did not discover their object until they had
reached the Delaware. Sir Henry then sent out an ex-
pedition under Benedict Arnold to ravage Connecticut,
hoping thereby to cause Washington to return, but this
maneuver did not efliect its object. Washington and
Rochambeau pressed forward with the utmost alacrity.
They received the gratifying intelligencethat De Grasse
had already arrived with his fleet and had blockaded
the Chesapeake, thus cutting off the escape of the Brit-
ish by water. On September 30, 1781, the allies in-
vested Yorktown and Glouster. After a siege of nearly v>jese of
three weeks, Cornwallis, finding it no longer possible to '^^oft'own.
hold Yorktown, surrendered his whole army of nearly
8,000 men to Washington (October 19, 1781). On that
day Clinton left New York to join Cornwallis. A week
later, when oif the Virginia capes, he heard of the news
of the surrender. It was too late for him to be of any
service, and he returned to New York.
91. The surrender of Cornwallis sent a thrill of joy
through the country, and was the most decisive event
of the war. The territory of the thirteen states was
now restored to the jurisdiction of Congress, and the
contest decided in favor of America. The surrender of
Comwallis was accepted both by the Americans and
the English in Amer'ca as the end of the war. Con-
gress recommended the states to observe a day of
thanksgiving to God for the signal success of the Amer-
idan arms. The people waited impatiently for the two
governments to agree upon terms of peace. There were
after this a few encmintcrs between the two armies, but
r44
UNITED STATES
there was no general battle. The British still had posses-
sion of New York harbor and the surrounding country.
General Washington went into camp with his army at
Newburgh, on the Hudson. There he could keep open
communication betweeen New England and the rest of
the country. The French allies remained in Virginia.
Generals Wayne and Greene drove such portions of the
British forces as remained in the Carolinas and Georgia
down to the sea-coast, and shut them up in Savannah
and Charleston. There they were protected by their
vessels. The people of Great Britain became clamor-
ous for peace. The obstinate king was still resolved
"never to consent to a peace at the expense of a separa-
tion from America, but a resolution in favor of peace,
supported by the leading members, passed the House of
Commons February 27, 1783. The king was compelled
to dismiss Lord North and accept a ministry headed by
the Marquis of Rockingham, who was committed to the
policy of peace, and commissioners were appointed on
both sides to negotiate a treaty, hostilities being stopped
in the interval.
The Treaty 92. Much firmness and wisdom were shown by Messrs.
•f Peace. Jay, Franklin, Adams and Laurens, the American com-
missioners. Many questions were raised, an important
one of which was that of boundary, England wishing
to keep the Ohio valley and part of Maine. The prop-
erty of the Tories had been confiscated; the English
wished it restored. England tried to exclude New En-
gland from the right to fish off the banks of Newfound-
land. These and other questions caused delay. The
delay was increased by the efforts of Prance and Spain
to postpone the final settlement until they should get
all which they demanded as nations from Great Britain.
The preliminary articles of peace were settled at Paris
on the 30th of November, 1782, and in September, 1783,
a formal treaty was signed. By this treaty Great Brit-
ain acknowledged the independence and sovereignty of
the United States, and a new nation took its place
among the governments of the earth.
Tbe Army 93. The American army was now disbanded. During
disbanded, (jjg progress of negotiations the temper of the officers
and soldiers was far from satisfactory. They had
received but a small portion of their pay, had often
suffered from absolute hunger, and were becoming
restless under their wrongs and neglect. Some of them
so far forgot themselves as to desire the establishment
of a military despotism, and Washington received a
letter in which he was advised to declare himself king
— a proposition which he indignantly refused to enter-
tain for a single moment. Then anonymous letters
were circulated among the troops in March, 1783, tend-
ing to inflame their minds and advising them to organ-
ize for the purpose of enforcing Congress to grant their
demands. To counteract this movement Washington
called all the officers together, and in his subse<iuent
farewell address soothed them by kind words and
promises, and appealed to the nobler sentiments of the
heart. Thus the danger was dispelled, and on Novem-
ber 3, still glowing with patriotism, the soldiers separ-
ated, resolved to endure all necessary privations. The
army certainly had been treated badly by both Con-
gress and the States, but there was some excuse for their
conduct in that the country was very poor, and that,
after spending nearly $100,000,000 during the war, the
treasury found itself at the end about $40,000,000 in
debt. This was exclusive of the outlay of the separate
states, which amounted to $60,000,000 or $70,000,000
more.
ii,> ;.-u»tioD On November 25 the British evacuated New York,
and Washington's troops marched in by the way of
King's Bridge. On November 2 Washington issued his
farewell address to the army ; on December 4, with a
heart full of love and gratitude, lie bade his officers
adieu. It was a deeply affecting scene, and men, who
had braved the horrors of many a battle, now, as they
approached their beloved commander-in-chief, were
of N'<'W
York
melted to tears and incapable of utterance. Washing-
ton then proceeded to Annapolis, at that time the seat
of Congress, and tendered his resignation as command- Washing-
er-in-chief of the armies of the United States, and '0°'^ Resig-
immediately retired as a private citizen to his home at °* ""*'
Mount Vernon, on the Potomac, in Virginia.
V. — THB FORMATION OF THE FEDERAL CONSTITtrnON.
94. The States were governed during the latter part
of the war by "Articles of Confederation," proposed
by Congress at the time of the Declaration of Independ-
ence, but not adopted until several years later. Nearly
all power was vested in the separate states ; Congress
had but little authority ; there was no president or other
executive chief. During the war for independence the
army, which was called the Continental army, was
under the authority of the Continental Congress, and it
received its pay, when paid at all, in Continental cur-
rency. These two words "Continental Currency,"
were placed at the head of the paper money which
Congress began to issue at the beginning of the war.
No other way of raising money to meet the military
expenses seemed clear to Congress than to issue this
currency, since there wou!d be no revenue from duties,
as lesolutions had been passed to have no trade with
Great Britain. All the colonies represented in Con-
gress agreed to redeem the bills which should be
issued, just as each colony had been accustomed to
redeem its own bills. At first the money was found to
be very useful, and its value was not questioned, as
nearly everyone thought that the war would soon be
over. But the war dragged along ; Congress had been
obliged to issue bills to the amount of $20,000,000;
whether or not the colonies would be able to win inde-
pendence was a matter of doubt ; the country was poor,
and it was not certain that the Confederation would
last. Under these circumstances people began to
refuse to take the money at the value printed upon it.
95. Under the "Articles of Confederation," adopted ^''^''"^o''
in 1777, the powers of Congress were but small. The °°S"=»a.
colonies were jealous of each other, and especially the
smaller of the larger, and so they all wished to give the
" Confederation," as it was called, just as little power
as they could. The new government was to be raerely
a "firm league of friendship" between so-vereign states,
which were to retain every power not "expressly"
delegated to Congress. At this time Congress consisted
of but one house, in which each state had an equal
vote. There was no national executive head. Congress
retained the power to borrow money, but was not
authorized to raise money by taxes, or to fix the rate of
duties on foreign goods imported, or compel obedience
to any law. In fact, the provincial spirit which mani-
fested itself in the several colonies, so prevailed over
the spirit of nationality, as to completely take from it
all power of action, even in the most violent emergen-
cies, without the express consent of the several prov-
inces. This was done by the celebrated "Articles of
Confederation," by which Congress was reduced from
a prompt and energetic exercise of power, assumed
and used for the general good, to a mere advisory
body, which, strictly speaking, had no authority at
all; for the very first article, after that giving title to
the instrument, made the following declaration: "Each
state retains its sovereignty, freedom and Indepen-
dance, and every power, jurisdiction, and right which
is not by this confederation expressli/ delegated to the
United States in Congress assembled." Thus Congress
was bound, hand and foot, by the narrow-minded
jealousy of the several states. Important measures
required the votes of nine of the 13 states, and amend-
ments the votes of all. Congress alone could decide
upon the needed amount of money, but the power
of collecting the taxes was vested in the states, only.
Congress could decide disputes between the states, but
it had no power to compel respect or obedience to its*
UNITED
S T ^i T E S
745
decisions. It alone could make treaties with foreign
nations, but no individual state was bound to respect
those treaties, so far as Congress was concerned. Every
state had the power of regulating its own commerce,
both foreign and domestic. In truth, all the acts of
Congress were simply recommendations to the state
assemblies; and these recommendations were always
largely debated, oftentimes rejected, and never assented
to in season to have their best effect. Washington
and the army and the Revolutionary cause were thus
nearly sacrificed by a states-right prejudice, as bad in
principle as it was slow and injurious in fact.
96. When Congress tried to borrow money in Europe,
it succeded in getting some at high rates of interest.
But in the present state of the country foreigners were
slow to lend; they were not sure of getting their money
ba^k again. They knew they would not if the states
failed in establishing their independence. And even if
they did, the question was. would they pay if peace
came? Under the then existing form of government it
seemed doubtful. The several str.(es could raise money
to meet their obligations by taxing their citizens; they
could also impose duties on articles of trade. The
government, as vested in Congress, could do neither of
these things; it could only apportion to the several
states their share of the public expenses. If the states
refused to pay. Congress had no power to compel them.
Foreign countries, also, did not like to make treaties
with such a loose and feeble government. Washington
said: "We are one nation to-day, and 13 to-morrow:
who will treat with us on these terms?" Thus, both
Congress and the states struggled on, making more
paper money and borrowing at high rates of interest.
Laws were passed requiring the people to take the
paper money in payment of debts. But the currency
became more and more worthless, so that about the
middle of the war, 16 hundred dollars of it was asked
for a suit of clothes. After the alliance with Prance,
the prospect brightened. People had more confidence
in the success of the United States, and it became easier
Robort *° borrow money in Europe. About this time, also,
Morris. Robert Morris, of Philadelphia, who thoroughly under-
stood the mistakes which had been made, was offered
the position of superintendent of finance. He accepted
the office only on condition that Congress should aban-
don the attempt to compel the people by law to take
the paper money in payment of debts. In 1781 Con-
gress passed a resolution that it would pay all its debts
in solid coin, and recommended the si ales to do the
same. It chartered the Bank of North America, and
this bank lent money both to the government and to
the people. At the close of the war the government
found itself deeply in debt. Part of this money was
due to foreigners, and part to the people of the country,
How this debt was to be paid, was the question to be
Th ,ale of ^^"i*'^ ^^ *^^ Confederation.
UiKjicnpied ^~- ^De way was through the sale of unoccupied lands,
lande. When the Confederation was forming there was much
dispute and uncertainty about the western boundaries
of the different colonies. Virginia, for example, claimed
the country now occupied by Kentucky, Indiana, Ohio
and Illinois. It was proposed that the states should
give up their western lands to the United States. Vir-
ginia was the first to do this, and other states followed
her example (1784). Congress used this property to pay
the debts of the government. It eave lands to officers
and soldiers in payment of their claims. Many of
these moved out on their lands, and companies were
formed for colonizing, especially in the Ohio valley.
Congress could not go much farther. It oould say
what taxes ought to be laid, and could recommend a
uniform rate of duties throughout the country; but it
was obliged to ask the state to lay the taxes, to levy the
duties, and then to pay the money raised into the
treasury of Congress.
98. It perceived that this would never do — that a
Ctoontry.
Stronger form of government was necessary for the
welfare and prosperity of the country. Disorders
arose within the separate states, and a state of anarchy
m general prevailed. The western counties of North
Carolina undertook to form a state of their own, called
Frankland. The part of Virginia which afterward be-
came Kentucky, made asimilar attempt. An extensive
rebellion in Massachussetts, led by an ex-captain in the
Continental army, named Daniel Shays (December, Shays'
1*86), and directed against the collection of taxes, etc., Rebellion,
for six months resisted the authority of the state. It
was finally put down by a military force under General
Lincoln. The one act of authority which Congress
could exercise was in providing for the government of
the country which had been ceded to it by the states.
7?.,'„® ^^^*°'^® passage of the important ordinance in Ordinance
libi. By this ordinance all the district northwest of <>' '"'*"
the Ohio was formed into one territory. Congress ap-
pointed a governor, a council and judges. The people
of the territory were allowed to choose their own a.s-
sembly and make their own laws. The most important
provision of the ordinance was that by which slavery
was forever excluded from the northwest territory.
99. It was impossible for the country to go on as it
was. The states were separating from one another, Difficuitie*
and from Congress. Congress could with difflcutly "'' "'•■
bring enough members together to form a quorum. '
Scarcely any one outside paid attention to what it did.
Least of all was it respected by foreign governments.
John Adams,who had been sent as minister to England,
could hardly get a hearing there. Many of the states
refused or neglected to pay even their allotted shares
of interest on the public debt, and Congress had not
the power to compel payment. The national credit be-
came worthless. Foreign nations refused to make
commercial treaties with the United States, pre-
ferring rather to take advantage of the impotency
of Congress, and lay any burden upon American
commerce that they thought fit. In 1785, Algeria de-
clared war against the United States. Having no effi-
cient navy. Congress recommended the building of five
ships of war. but as it had the power to recommend
only, the ships were not built, and American commerce
was left a i.r^y to the Algeriue pirates. Great Britain
still refu.-td to carry out the treaty of 1783, or send a
minister to the United States. The federal government
was despised abroad, and disobeyed at home.
100. Amidst this discouraging and confused state of
affairs, the more thoughtful of the people saw that
some change in the form of government was necessary
and so a convention of delegates was called to meet in
Independence hall, Philadelphia, May 14, 17S7, in order "^P".™""**
to decide upon a new constitution, and make, if possi- '
ble, a stronger government, without doing harm to the
liberties of the people. The states sent their ablest
men to represent them. Many of the delegates hac
been members of the first Congress. Among others,
Virginia sent Washington, Edmund Randolph, George
Mason, Madison and George Wythe; New York, Ham-
ilton; Massachusetts, Rufus King, Strong and Gerry;
Pennsylvania, Franklin, Robert Morris, Gouverneur
Morris and James Wilson; New Jersey, Paterson; Con-
necticut, Sherman, William S. Johnson and Ellsworth;
and South Carolina, Rutledge and the two Pinckneys.
Washington was appointed president of the convention.
101. There was great difference of opinion among the
delegates regarding the question at issue, but all agreed
that it was necessary to give the government greater
authority. After a long discussion, lasting many
weeks, the convention drew up a constitution of the The Con-
United States (September 17, 1787) which was to take >'"""'"
the place of the articles of confederation. The con-
vention reported its work to Congress, and Congress
submitted it to the several states. By the terms of the
constitution, it must be ratified by nine states before it
could become the law of the land. Much opposition
I etitGtion.
74 1)
U X I T E D S T iV T E S
was manifested toward its adoption. It was discussed
everywhere, and its every article was earnestly debated.
Hamilton, Madison and John Jay of New York pub-
lished a celebrated series of papers called The Feder-
alist, in which thej' went over all its features with great
thoroughness, showing the reasons for the action of
the convention. By this means they did much to con-
vince the people of the importance of the work done.
Delaware was the first to ratify the constitution, which
it did unanimously. Pennsylvania followed, ten days
afterward, with a two-thirds vote in favor. Eight
other states also ratified it, so that it went into effect in
17S8. Of the three states which remained, New York
accepted the constitution in time to take part in the
first pres'dential election that same year. North Car-
olina accepted it during the year following; and Rhode
Island, last of all, in the year after that (1790). Thus
the old " Confederation " came to an end and the new
The tniou. " Union " began.
102. The opening words of the constitution are as
follows: "We, the people of the United States, in order
to form a more perfect union, established justice, insure
domestic tranquility, provide for the common defense,
promote the general welfare, and secure the blessings
of liberty to ourselves and our posterity, do ordain and
establish this constitution for the United States of
The Pream- America." This first sentence of the constitution is
^^- often called the preamble, but no such term was applied
to it by the framers of the constitution, neither is it
found in the original manuscript. It is not a preamble
in any sense, but is the enacting clause — an integral
part of the constitution, stating that it was the people
of the whole United States who established it. A pre-
amble gives reasons why a resolution should be adopted
or enacted, but it is no part of the resolution or enact-
ment. The enacting clause, on the contrary, is man-
datory. No other part of a statute is more important.
Thus, this introductory sentence gives the authority
and the ends for which the constitution was made. It
was ordained by the people of the United States as a
nation, and for the purposes so admirably set forth in
its opening clause; and wherever in the constitution the
words " United States " occur they signify the nation
as a whole; wherever the word "States" occurs, it
denotes the states considered separately, or as distin-
guished from tbg nation.
Articles 103. The constitution contains seven articles, which
•"".^7.,'''"'" are subdivided into sections. Besides these seven ar-
' '"■ tides, fifteen amendments have been made to the con- i
stitution, which are as binding as the original articles, j
By the first article all legislative power is vested in the
Congress of the United States, which consists of a senate
and house of representatives. Under the confederation
the whole governmental authority was vested in Con-
gress. There was no executive department and no judi-
cial. The first resolution adopted in the constitutional
convention stated that a national government ought to
be formed, consisting of supreme legislative, executive
and judicial departments. Most legislative bodies have
two houses. This is true of all the existing state gov-
ernments, and was true of all the states at the time the
constitution was framed, except Pennsylvania and
Georgia, which had but one each. The Continental
Congress had but one house. While there is a general
distribution of powers among the three great depart-
ments of government, the exercise of these powers is
net absolutely exclusive.
104. The federal house of representatives is descend-
ed, through the state houses of representatives, from
tlie colonial assemblies. It is an assembly represent-
ing the whole population of the countrj^ as if the peo-
Thc House pie were all in one great state. It is composed of raem-
of Rf-prc- bers chosen every year by the people of the states. A
semativee. candidate for election to the house must be at least
twenty-five years old. must have been seven years a
citizen of the United States, and must be an inhabitant
of the state in which he is chosen. As the federal
Congress is a taxing bod}', representatives and taxes are
apportioned among the several states according to the
same rule, that is, according to population. At this
point a dithculty arose in the convention as to whether
slaves should be counted as population. If they were
to be counted, the power of the slave states in all mat-
ters of national legislation would be greatly increased.
The difficulty was adjusted by a compromise measure tij^, Ti,re*
according to which five slaves were to be reckoned as Fifiits
three persons. Since the abolition of slavery this pro- <.'orapro-
vision has become obsolete, but until 1860 it was avery "^"'^'
important factor in American history.
10.5. In the federal house of representatires the great
states, of course, have much more weight than the small-
er ones. In 1790 the four largest states had 33 repre-
sentatives, while the other nine had only 33. The larg-
est state, Virginia, had ten representatives, to one fror
Delaware. These disparities have increased. In 1880,
out of thirty-eight states, the nine largest had a majority
of the house, and the largest state, New York, had 34
representatives to one from Delaware. This feature in
the house of representatives caused the smaller statea
in the convention to oppose the whole scheme of con-
structing a new government. They were determined
that all the states, both great and small, should have
equal representation in Congress. Their prolonged op-
position threatened to ruin the whole plan, when a
method of compromise was fortunately discovered. It
was intended that the national legislature, in imitation
of the state legislatures, should have an upper house or
senate, and at first the advocates of a strong national
government proposed that the senate also should repre-
sent population. But it happened that in the state of Con- 1 ue lou-
necticut a unique governmental method had been adopt- 5,'^'^*""'^
ed. There it had always been the custom to elect the gov- na™!"^
ernor and upper house by a majority vote of the whole
people, while for each township there was an equality
of representation in the lower house. The Connecticut
delegates in the convention, therefore, being familiar
with a legislature in which the two houses were elected
on different principles, suggested a compromise. Let
the house of representatives, they said, represent the
people, and let the senate represent the states; let all
the states, great and small, be equally represented in
the senate. Such was the famous "Connecticut Com-
promise." Had this not been adopted the convention
would doubtless have broken up without accomplish
ing its purpose. After it was accepted, and the jealous
fears of the smaller states allayed, the work, yet to be
accomplished, was comparatively ea.sy.
106. Thus it came about that the upper house of the TiieScnawi|j
national legislature is composed of two senators from
each state. As they represent the state, they are
chosen by its legislature and not by the people. They
are chosen for a term of six years, and one-third of the
number of terms expire every second year, so that,
while the whole senate may be renewed by the lapse of
six years, there is never a "new senate." The senate
has thus a continuous existence and a permanent or-
ganization, whereas each house of representatives ex-
pires at the end of a two-years' term, which is usuaUy
known as a "congress," and is succeeded by a "new
house." A candidate for the senatorship must be at
least thirty years of age, must have been nine years a
citizen of the United States and must be an inhabitant
of the state which he represents.
107. Congress must assemble at least once in every Time of
year, and the constitution appoints the first Monday in .^ssembiinp
December for the time of meeting; but Congress can,
if necessary, enact a law changing the time. The es-
tablished custom is to hold the election for representa-
tives upon the same day as the election for president -
the Tuesday after the first Monday in November. As
the period of the new administration does not begin
until the fourth day of the following March, the new
UIs'ITEI) STATES
<4(
I
house of representatives docs not assemble until the
December following that date, unless the new president
should think it necessary to call aa extra session of
Congress at an earlier date. Each house is judge of
the elections, qualifications and returns of its own
members, determines its own rules of procedure and
may punish its members for disorderly behavior, or by
a two-thirds vote expel a member. Absent members
may be compelled under penalties to attend. Each
house is required to keep a journal of its proceedings,
and at proper intervals to publish it, except such parts
as for reasons of public policy should be kept secret.
108. Senators and representatives receive a fixed sal-
arj- by law, which is paid out of the public treasury.
In all cases, except treason or felony or breach of the
PriTile<^3 peace, they are privileged from arrest during their at-
oT mem- tendance in Congress, as also while on their way to it
l**"^- and while returning home: " and for any speech or de-
bate in either house they shall not be questioned in any
other place.' ' During the session of Congress neither
house may, without the consent of the other, adjourn
for more than three days, or to any other place than
that in which Congress is sittinjr. No person can at
the same time hold any civil office under the United
States government and be a member of either house of
Congress,
residing ■ J09. The vice-president is the presiding officer in the
'^'^'^''' senate, with power to vote only in case of a tie. The
house of representatives elects its presiding officer,
who is called the Speaker. In the early histoiy of the
House of Commons, in England, its presiding officer
was naturally enough its spo/Ltiima}i. He could speak
for it in addressing the crown. Instances of this kind
occurred during the fourteenth century, until in 13T6
the title of Speaker was definitely given to Sir Thomas
Hungerford, and from that date the title has always
held. The same title was given to the presiding officers
of the American colonial assemblies, and thence it
passed on to the state and federal legislatures. The
Speaker presides over the debates, puts the questions
and decides points of order. He also appoints the
committees of the house of representatives.
Power of 110. The house of representatives has the sole
■mpeacb- power of impeachment, and the senate has the sole
weot. power to try all impeachments. When the president
of the United States is tried, the chief justice of the
supreme court must preside. A.<' j precaution against
the use of impeachment for party purposes, a two-
thirds vote is required for conviction. In case of con-
viction the judgment cannot extend further than "to
removal from office, and disqualification to hold or
enjoy any office of "honor, trust or profit under the
United States;" but the person convicted is liable af-
terward to be tried and punished by the ordinary pro-
cess of law.
111. The constitutional provisions for legislation are
admirably simple. All bills for raising revenue must
originate iu the lower house, but the upper house may
propose or concur with amendments as in the case of
other bills. After a bill has passed both houses, it must
go to the president for his approval. If he approves
. it, he signs it, and it becomes a law. If he disapproves
dmt'^'veto '^' ^® returns it to the house in which it originated,
power. with a written statement of bis objections, which must
be entered in full upon the journal of the house. The
bill is then reconsidered, and if it obtains a two-thirds
vote it is sent, together with the objections, to the other
house. If it passes there by a two-thirds vote, it
becomes a law. Otherwise it fails. If the president
keeps a bill longer than ten days (Sundays excepted)
without signing it, it becomes a law without his signa-
ture, unless Congress adjourns before the expiration
of the ten days, in which case it fails to become a law,
just as if it had been vetoed. This method of vetoing
bills just before the expiration of Congress, by keeping
'in one's pocket, so to speak, was styled a "pocket
veto," and was first employed by President Jackson iu
1829.
112. By the constitution, Congress has the power P°*'"'
" to lay and collect taxes, duties, imposts and excises. f.onJ'reasT
to pay the debts and provide for the common defense
and general welfare of the United States," but all
duties, etc., were to be uniform throughout the United
States. Other powers are naturally attached to this —
such as the power to borrow money on the credit of
the United States ; to regulate foreign and domestic
commerce ; to coin money and fix the standard of
weights and measures ; to provide for the punishment
of counterfeiters ; to establish post-offices and post-
roads ; to issue copyrights and patents ; to establish
courts inferior to the supreme court ; to punish
offenses committed on the high seas, or against the law
of nations ; todeclare war, grant letters of marque and
reprisal, and make rules concerning captures on land
and water ; to raise and support an army and navy (no
appropriation to be for more than two years), and to
make rules for the regulation of the land and naval
forces ; to provide for calling out the militia to suppress
insurrections and repel invasions, and to command the
militia while actually employed in the service of the
United States. The several states, however, were to
train their own militia and appoint the officers. Con-
gress may also establish a uniform rule of naturaliza-
tion, and uniform laws on the subject of bankruptcies,
but it has not 5'et done so. It was also empowered to
establish a national capital or feder.il district (which is
the District of Columbia, containing the city of Wash-
ington), to exercise exclusive control over it, and over
forts, magazines, arsenals, dockyards and other need-
ful buildings, which it erects within the several states
upon lands purchased for such purposoB with the con-
sent of the state legislature ; and finally, " to make all
laws which shall be necessary and proper for carrying
into execution the foregoing powers and all other
powers vested by this constitution in the government _.
of the United States, cr in any department or office "Elastic,
thereof.'' This last clause maybe called the elastic CLsase."'
clause of the constitution. It has been the subject of
continued debate, and has undergone a great deal of
stretching for one purpose and another. It was a pro-
found disagreement in the interpretation of this clause
which, after 1789, divided the American people into two
great political parties.
113. The national authority of Congress is further
sharply defined by the express denial of sundry powers I'oH-ers
to the several states. The states are expressly forbid- denied to
den to impose any duties on imports or exports, except ""^ Statefc
for inspection charges, which must be passed over to
the treasury of the United States ; to make treaties of
any kind ; to lay any duty on tonnage ; to keep troops
or ships of war in time of peace ; to engage in war
unless actually invaded, or in such imminent danger aa
will admit of no delay ; to grant letters of marque and
reprisal ; to coin money ; to emit bills of credit ; to
make anything but silver a legal tender ; to pass any
bill of attainder, ex post f ado law, or law impairing the
obligation of contracts, or to grant any title of nobility.
114. Some express prohibitions were laid upon theProl'hi;
National Government. Duties may be laid upon im- ,j°°* '*''^
ports, but not upon exports. Duties and excises must Con^resa
be uniform throughout the country, and no commercial
preference can be shown one state over another. The pri-
vilege of the writ of hah,'<is corpus cannot be suspended
except "when, in cases of rebellion or invasion, the public
safety may require it." A census must be taken every
10 years in order to adjust representation, and no direct
tax can be imposed except according to the census.
No bill of attainder, or ex post facto law can be passed.
A bill of attainder is a special legislative act by which
a person may be condemned to death, or to outlawry
and banishment, without the opportunity of defending
himself, to which he is entitled in a court of law,,.
(48
UNITED STATES
Congress can grant no title of nobility, and no federal
officer can accept a present, office, or title from a
foreign state without the consent of Congress. "No
religious test shall ever be required as a qualification to
any office or public trust uuder the United Slates."
Money is to be taken from the treasury only in con-
sequence of appropriations made by law.
Qnalifica- 115. ffo one is eligible to the otfice of president un-
tbTprSi^ '^s* ^® '^ * native born citizen. The candidate must
■deDcy. be at least 35 years old, and must have been 14 years a
resident of the United States. The president's term of
office is four years. The constitution says nothing
about his re-election, and there is no written law for-
bidding his being re-elected many times. Some of the
presidents have served two consecutive terms, and it
seems to have become the established custom not to go
beyond that. The president is solemnly sworn to
execute his office faithfully, and "to preserve, protect,
and defend the Constitution of the United States " to
the best of his ability. In case of his death, resigna-
tion, or inability to perform the duties of his office, the
vice-president takes his place; and, in the case of the
inability of both, the members of the cabinet succeed
in the order prescribed in the Presidential Succession
and'dn'ues Act of 1886. The president is commander in-chief of
of the the military and naval forces of the United States, and
president, gf the mUitia in the several states actually engaged in
the service of the United States: and he has the pre-
rogative of granting reprieves and pardons for offences
against the Uniti d States, except in cases of impeach-
ment. He can make treaties with foreign powers; but
no treaty is valid unless contirmed by a two-thirds
vote of the senate. He appoints ministers to foreign
countries, consuls, and the greater officers, such as the
heads of executive departments and judges of the
supreme court, and all other officers whose appoint-
ment Congress has not vested in other officers; but
all presidental appointments are to be confirmed by
the senate. When vacancies occur during the recess
of the senate, be may fill them by granting commis-
sions to expire at the end of the next session. He
commissions all federal officers. He receives all
foreign ministers. He may summon either or both
houses of Congress to an extra session, and if the two
houses disagree in regard to the time of adjournment,
he may adjourn them to such a time as he thinks best,
but of course, not beyond the time fixed for the begin-
ning of the nest regular session. The president must
from time to time make a report to Congress on the
The State of affairs in the country, and suggest such a line
Pr.bideui'SQj- policy or such special measures as may seem proper
message ^^ j^.^ rpj^.^ report has taken the form of an annual
written message. He may also call upon the heads of
departments for an opinion, in writing, on any subject
relating to such department. The president is paid by
the United States, and his salary is not to be increased
or diminished by Congress during his term of office.
The act authorizing any increase must apply only to
the successors of the president who signs the act.
116. The constitution made no express provision for
iopiri'^" the creation of executive departments, but left the
montp. matter to Congress. At the beginning of Washington's
administration three departments were created — those
of state, treasury and war, and an attorney general was
appointed. Since then the number of departments has
been increased, until now (1890) there are eight: those
of state, of the treasury, of war, of the navy, of the
post-office, of the interior, of justice, and of agriculture.
The chief officer of each department is called its secretary.
The secretaries of these departments are the president's
advisers, and constitute his cabinet. They are selected
by the president and are confirmed by tbe senate, but
are responsible to no one but the president.
IIT. The secretary of state ranks first among the
cabinet officers. He is the minister of foreign affairs,
and is the only officer who is authorized to communicate
with other governments In the name of the prertdent.
He is at the head of the diplomatic and consular service,
issuing instructions to the United States ministers
abroad, and taking a leading part in the negotiation of
treaties. He keeps the national archives, and superin-
tends the publication of laws, treaties and proclama-
tions, and he is the keeper of the great seal of the
United States. The cabinet officer next in rank is the
secretary of the treasury. He conducts the financial Secretary
business of the country, superintends the collection of Treesnrr.
revenue, and gives warrants for the payment of moneys
out of the treasury. He also superintends the coinage,
the national banks, the custom-houses, the coast-survey
and lighthouse system, the marine hospitals, and life-
saving service. He sends reports to Congress, and sug-
gests such measures as seem good to him. He is aided
by two assistant secretaries, six auditors, a register, a
comptroller, a solicitor, a director of the mint, com-
missioner of internal revenue, chiefs of the bureau of
statistics and bureau of printing and engraving, etc.
118. The war and navy departments need no special W'"' *""^
description here. The war department is divided into°*^^'
ten bureaus, among which is the weather bureau, pre-
sided over by the chiof signal officer. The navy de-
partment consists of eight bureaus, and among its many
duties it has charge of the nav.al observatory at Wash-
ington, and publishes the nautical almanac. The de- _
partment of the interior is divided into eight bureaus. nien"oif
It deals with public lands, pensions, patents, Indian thelnterior
affairs, education, public documents, and the census.
The postmaster generals department has to do with Postmaster
the po.'ital affairs of the couutry. The attorney-gen- General and
eral's departraent was organized in 1870 into the depart- Attomej-
ment of justice. The attorney-general is the president's
legal adviser, and represents the United States in all
law suits to which the United States is a party. The
agricultural department, which was created in 1889. Agricnlt-
superintends the agricultural interests of the country, ural De-
119. The best method of electing the president was P^u'™*"'-
a question which perplexed the constitutional conven-
tion as much as any other. To submit the election of
an officer so exalted to the popular vote, was regarded
with general distrust. At one time the convention de-
cided to have the president elected by Congress, but
there was a grave objection to this; it would be likely
to destroy his independence and make him the mere
creature of Congress. At last the plan of an electoral 'The
college was devised. Each state is entitled to a num- S']^'"*'
ber of electors equal to the number of its representa-
tives and senators together; and the electors choose the
president and vice-president, meeting at their state cap-
itals for that purpose, and sending separate certificates
of their choice of president and vice-president to the
presiding officer of the Senate at Washington. No fed-
eral senator or representative, or any person holding
civil office under the United States, can serve as an
elector. Each state may appoint or choose its electors
in such a manner as it sees fit; at first, they were more
often than otherwise chosen by the legislatures; now
they are always elected by the people. The day of
election must be the same in all the states. By act of
Congress the electors are to be chosen on the Tuesday
after the first Monday in November.
120. It was the original intention that the electors powen of
should be left free to make their own choice, and there electors,
are instances in early years of electors of one party
voting for personal friends of the opposite party. At
first the electoral votes did not state whether the candi-
dates named in them were candidates for the presi-
dency or vice presidency. Each elector simply wrote
down two names, only one of which could be the name
of a citizen of his own state. In the official count, the
candidate who had the highest number of votes, pro-
vided they were a majority of the whole number, was
declared president, and the next highest became vice-
president. The natural result of this was seen in the
U K I T E I) STATES
r+p
The
twelfth
Amend-
ment.
The
electoral
comnufi-
noD.
Keed for a
federal
JBdiciary.
Ooorts.
first contested election in 1796. which gave thfi presi-
dency to John Adams, -while his tantagonist, Thomas
Jefferson, became vice-president. In 1800. Jefferson
and his colleague Burr received exactly the same num-
ber of electoral votes. This threw the election into the
house of representatives, and such intrigues followed
for the purpose of defeating Jefferson that the country
was threatened with civil war. This uecessitated a
change in the method of election. In 1804, the twelfth
amendment was adopted. The method by this amend-
ment was changed so that the electors make sepa-
rate ballots for president and vice-president. In the
official count the votes for the president are first counted.
If no candidate has a majority then the house of rep-
resentatives must immediately choose the president
from the three names highest on the list. In this choice
the house votes by states, each state having one vote;
a quorum for this purpose must consist of at least one
member from two-thirds of the states, and a majority
of all the states is necessary for a choice. Then if no
candidate for the vice-presiaency has a majority, the
senate makes its choice from the two names highest on
the list. A quorum for the purpose consists of two-
thirds of the whole number of senators, and a majority
of the whole number is necessary to a choice.
121. In 1877 an unforeseen difficulty arose, and one
for which no provision had been made. During the
presidential contest between Tilden and Hayes. South
Carolina, Florida and Louisiana had each set up rival
governments. Ballots for Tilden and ballots for Hayes
were sent in at the same time by the two hostile sets of
electors in each of ttiese states, each list being certified
by one of the two rival governors in the same state. In
the absence of any recognized means of deciding which
ballots to count, the two parlies in Congress submitted
the result to arbitration. An "electoral commission"
was created for the occasion, consisting of five sena-
tors, five representatives and five judges of the suprenie
court. By this expedient, a clumsy one perhaps, the
difficulty was tided over. The question of confliciinij
returns has at length been set at rest by the act of 1887,
which provides that no electoral votes can be rejected
in counting, except by the joint action of both houses
of Congress.
122. The judiciary is the third of the three great de-
partmems of the general government. The constitu-
tion itself provides for one supreme court, but leaves to
Congress to determine how many Inferior courts should
be established. The organization of the supreme court
is also left to Congress. Tue chief reason why a na-
tional judiciary is necessary in addition to the stale sys-
tems is that the state judges might be biased in favor
of their own state. Laws of Congress often bear with
greater hardship on some stales than others, and pub-
lic opinion in those states upon whom the burden lay,
might be so strong in opposition, that no judge elected
and supported by those people would sustain it. But
if the judge belonged to a national system, and thus
represented and was supported by the whole nation, he
would have nothing to fear, and thus his decision would
be more impartial. The experience of the confedera-
tion taught this. The national judiciary consists of
three grades of courts: The supreme court, the circuit
courts and the district courts. The supreme court is
the highest in the land, ar:d was established by the
constitution itself. The others were established by
Oangress. The supreme court consists at present of a
chief justice and eight associate jaslices, and its juris-
diction is almost wholly appellate; that is, cases are not
tried in it, but it only hears appeals from other courts,
and that 9nly in the most important cases. It has orig-
inal jurisdiction in a few cases. Of the circuit courts
there are nine in the country. Each of the nine judges
of the supreme court is also presiding judge of a cir-
cuit court. The area of the United States, not includ-
ing the territories, is divided into nine circuits, and in
each circuit the presiding judge is assisted by special
circuit judges. The circuits are divided into fifty six
districts and in each of these there is a special district
iudge. The districts never cross state lines. They
cover each a state or a part of i otate.
123. By the constitution, the judges hold office dur-
ing good behavior. In no other depsrtment of the gen-
eral government are offices held for so long a term.
The purpose is to insure a correct and impartial admin-
istration of justice by making the judges independent
of conflicting parties. The object of the ffamers of the
constitution was to remove them as far as possible from
undue political influences. As with the president, so
in this case. Congress, though it fixes the salaries of
the judges, cannot diminish them while in office. The
jurisdiction of the federal courts does not extend to all
kinds of cases, but only to si'.ch as the constitution
specifies. The cases enumerated in the constitution in
which the national courts have jurisdiction may be di-
vided into three general classes, (1) those arising under
the coDslitution, the laws of Congress and treaties, (2)
those affecting foreigners, and (3) those between differ-
ent states or the citizens of different states. Cases
which arise under the constitution, laws or treaties of
the United Stales may be those where a person ;s given
a right by the constitution, etc., which he does not have
by the laws of his state, as for Instance a right to sue
an infringer of a patent granted to him, or where he
violates a law of Congress or treaty, as counterfeiting
coin, or doing anything forbidden by a treaty, or where
any question arises as to the meaning of the constitu-
tion, laws or treaties of the United States, dt as to
whether a law of Congress is constitutional or not. la
these cases it makes no difference whether the parties
are citizens of the came slate or not. The jurisdiction is
given to the national judiciary for two reasons: First,
in order that in the interpretation and enforcement of
its own laws, it may not be dependent on the states;
and second, in order that the interpretation may be
uniform throughout the country.
124. In cases affecting foreigners, the decision prop-
erly belongs lo the federal courts, for the reason that if
a foreigner is injured here, the nation, and not the
state, is responsible to the foreigner's government;
therefore the nation, and not the state, should make
redress for the injury And where the foreigner is an
ambassador, Dr other minister, the supreme court has
original jurisdiction in the case. Admiralty jurisdic-
tion is also given to the federal courts, for the reason
that many admiralty cases affect foreigners. Another
reason is, that admiralty is a part of the regulation of
commerce which is a subject taken away from the
states and given entirely to the United States.
125. The third class of cases in which the federal
courts have jurisdiction, is where the parties on the
two sides, plaintiff and defendant. Are either two dif-
ferent states, or citizens of different states. The federal
courts are to decide controver; ies between two or more
states; because, domestic tranquility requires that the
contention of states should be peacefully terminated by
a common judicatory and because, in a free country,
justice ought not to depend on thewi'.lof either of the lit-
igants. They are to decide controversies between a state
and the citizens of another state; because.in case a slate
(which comprehends all its citizens) has demands
against some citizens of another state, it is better that
she should prosecute their demands in a federal court
than in a court of the state to which those citizens be-
long, the danger of irritation and criminations arising
from apprehensions and suspicions of partiality being
thereby obviated. They are to decide controversies
between citizens of the same state claiming lands under
grants of different states; because, as the rights of the
two states to grant the land are drawn into question,
neither of the two states ought to decide the contro-
versy.
Ten n re of
office.
Salary.
Fe<leral
jnrigdie-
tion.
Cases an4er
Cnited
States laws.
i_ a*e9
attecting
foreigirer^
Ca«.!3
affecting
different
States OP
toeir
citizens.
loO
UNITED STATES
Dovtor
■.tates.
126. The judicial power of the United States extends
to all cases of law and equity arising under the consti-
tution and laws thereof, and to treaties made under
their authoritj'. But there are two kinds of jurisdic-
tion, original and appellate. Original jurisdiction is
jurisdiction of a cause from its beginning. If a party
can biffin his suit in the circuit court, for instance,
then that court has original jurisdiction in the case.
If he cannot bring his case into the circuit court until
it has been tried in some lower court, then the circuit
court is said to have appellate jurisdiction. Appeal
lies from the district court to the circuit court when
the matter involved is of a value greater than $500, and
from the circuit court to the supreme court when $5,000
or more is involved.
127. No direct suit can be brought against the United
States either by a citizen or a state, without the author-
ity of an act of Congress. But in 1855 Congress estab-
lished a court, called the court of claims, in which
tho^e having claims against the United States, may
br jg a suit in the ordinary way. The demand is pre-
sented to the court by petition,setting forth specifically
its origin and nature, and the party is allowed to prove
it by the same rules of evidence which are usually
adopted in a court of justice. If a claim is established
Congress makes provision for its payment. An attor-
ney, called the solicitor of the United States, appears
before this court in behalf of the government.
128. In the constitution, treason is made to consist
only in levying war against the nation, or in adhering
to its enemies, giving them aid and comfort. The
purpose was to make the meaning as definite as possi
ble, so that all opportunity for constructive treason
might be removed. It has been decided by the court
that there must be an actual levying of war; that a con-
spiracy to subvert the government by force is not trea-
son. But if war be actually levied, that is, if a body of
men be actually assembled for the purpose of effecting
by force a treasonable purpose, all those who perform
any part, however minute, or however remote from the
scene of action, and who are actually leagued in the
general conspiracy, are to be considered as traitors.
Conviction of treason requires the testimony of two
witnesses to the same overt act of treason, or a confes-
sion in open court. A private confession passes for
nothing. To Congress is given the power to declare
the punishment of treason, "but no attainder of trea-
son is to work corruption of blood, or forfeiture, ex-
cept during the life of the person attainted." The
attainder spoken of in this clause must be that con-
nected with the judgment pronounced by a court, and
not a legislative attainder, for we have already seen
that Congress is forbidden, as also the states, from
passing any bill of attainder. Congress might provide
for a judicial attainder in the case of treason, but the
the effects of this attainder must be limited to the life
of the offender.
As treason is a crime against sovereignty, a violation
of one's allegiance, there can be no treason against a
particular state. The states, however, have always as-
serted their power to punish for treason against them
individually. It has never been fully maiutained in
practice; but the theory had its effect in the secession
period. If a state, by its courts, punishes treason, it
must not be as treason against itself, but as treason
against the union; and in this view, the propriety of
that state legislation which atHxes to it particular pen-
alties, is doubtful. .
129. Article IV of the constitution contains a number
of important provisions, most of which affect the rela-
tions of the states to each other, and to the general
government. The first one is in regard to the effect
which the laws, records and judgments of our state
shall have in another, and the provision is that they
shall have full effect everywhere. No state can grant
orcVtiztiiiB. privileges to its own citizens, from which the citizens of
RclntioDB
of SttttCB.
Pcjvitesea
Other states are esciuded. There must be an equality
of citizenship everywhere. Without such a provision,
any state might deny to citizens of other states the
right to buy and hold real estate, or to become voters
after living in the slate the prescribed time, or to enjoy
equal privileges in trade or business. The subject of
delivering up fugitives from justice, is one which
among different nations, has involved some doubts.
The constitution of the United States, however, pro-
vides that they shall always be given up to those who,
in the states, have a right to require it. By the com-
mon law, a slave escaping into a non-slaveholding state
became free. But the constitution provided that fugi-
tive slaves were to be surrendered to their owners.
Escaped slaves were, under this provision, returned to
the south up to 1861. The clause is of course obsolete
now.
130. The constitution provides for the admission of
new states to the union, but it does not allow a state
to be formed within another state. A state cannot "be
formed by the junction of two or more states, or parts
of states, without the consent of the legislatures of the
states concerned, as well as of the Congress." Shortly
before the making of the constitution, the United
States had been endowed for the first time with a pub-
lic domain. The territory northwest of the Ohio river
had been claimed, on the strength of old grants and
charters, by Massachusetts, Connecticut, New York
and Virginia. In 1777 Maryland refused to sign the
iVrticles of Confederation until these states should
agree to cede their claims to the United States, ani
thus, m 1784, the Federal government came into pos-
session of a magnificent territory, out of which fivf
great states — Ohio, Indiana, lUinr-'s, Michigan and
Wisconsin — have since been made. While the Federal
convention was sitting at Philadelphia the Continental
Congress at New York was doing almost its last, and
one of its greatest pieces of, work in framing the ordi
nance of 1787 for the organization and government ol
this newly acquired territory.
131. In 1803 the vast territory of Louisiana, compris
ing everything (except Texas) between the Mississipp
river and the crest of the Rocky Mountains, was pur-
chased from France. A claim upon the Oregon terri-
tory was soon afterward made by discovery and ex-
ploration, and finally settled in 1846 by treaty with
Great Britain. In 1848 by conquest, and in 1853 by
purchase, the remaining Pacific lands were acquired
from Mexico. All of this vast region has been at some
time under territorial government. As for Texas, on
the other hand, it has never been a territory. Texas
revolted from Mexico in 1836 and remained an inde-
pendent state until 1845 when she was admitted to the
union. Territorial government has generally passed
through three stages: First, there are governors and
judges appointed by the president; then, as population
increases, there is added a legislature chosen by the
people, and empowered to make laws subject to con-
firmation by Congress; finally, entire legislative inde-
pendence is granted. The state is then ripe for admis-
sion to the union as a state.
133. The national government was to guarantee to
each of the states a republican form of government,
and to protect each of them against invasion or, on ap-
plication of the legislature or governor, against domes-
tic violence. This clause makes a republican govern-
ment necessary in every state. It is equivalent to
saying that no other shall be permitted to be estab-
lished. This is the only instance in the constitution
where the government has a duty enjoined upon it,
while the particular department is not mentioned.
Here the obligation is from the United States to the
states; but whether to be exercised by the president or
by Congress is one of the questions that has grown out
of the reconstruction measures. In the case of Rhode
Island the supreme court held "It rests with Con-
Fu2itive
criminuts
Fugitive
aiaves.
Kew
States.
The
Northwe©
Territory.
Other lem
toriee and
their iioy-
f-rnmente.
(inaractce
clauBe.
UNITED STATED
i.jj
goTeni
■neat.
»»»l»goi-
eress to decide what govprnment is the established one
ju a state. For, as the Unued Stales guarantee to each
Btate a republican government. Congress must necessar-
ily decide what government is established before it
can determine whether it is republican or not. And
when the senators and representatives of a state are
admitted to the councils of the union, the authority of
the government under which they are appointed, as
well as its republican character, is recognized by the
proper authority."
Bepnblic.tn 133. The constitution does not define a republican
government. The national government may be as-
sumed to be republican in form, and thus a model for
the states, Mr. Madison says: "We may define a re-
public to be a government which derives all its powers
directly or indirectly from the great body of the peo-
ple, and is administered by persons holding their offices
during pleasure, for a limited period, or during good
behavior." Farrar says: "The principle of republi-
canism is the equal right of the people, the citizens, all
the members of the body politic. In theory it is the
government of public opinion. The fundamental prin-
ciples of right and justice for the government, the
representative character of the governors, and their
practical responsibility to the governed, are the essen-
tials of republicanism."
134. The constitution indirectly requires various
provisions in the state governments by enjoining duties.
The senators of the United States are to be elected by
the state legislatures. Members of the house of
representatives are to be elected by the same electors
as vote for the members of the most numerous branches
of the state legislature. The executive of the states is
often referred to. The judges are to take oath to obey
the constitution of the United States. Thus the states
must have three great departments, the legislative,
executive and judicial. The legislature must be in two
branches, and the most numerous branch must be
elected by the people. The states are supposed to have
written constitutions.
135. One of the strongest objections urged by its
opponents agamst the adoption of the constitution as
it came from the hands of the convention, was the
want of a recognition of certain rights of citizens. To
meet this objection, in September, 1789, the first ten
u^a'aitend- amendments were proposed by Congress, and in De-
mesu. cember, 1791, they were declared in force. These ten
amendments, which are called a "Bill of Rights,"
because they contain a list of the rights deemed most
important to the liberty of the people, do not change
any original provision of the constitution. They act
merely as restrictions and limitations upon the powers
of Congress, and were deemed unnecessary by those
who framed the constitution for the reason that these
rights were sr> generally acknowledged, and that the
powers of Congress were limited to those expressly
granted to it. But as several of the state conventions
had, at the time of adopting the constitution, expressed
a desire that declarations and guarantees of certain
rights should be added in order to prevent miscon-
struction and abuse, the first Congress, at its first
session, proposed twelve amendments, ten of which
were ratified by the requisite number of states. These
amendments forbade the establishment of any religion
by Congress, or any abridgment of freedom of worship,
of speech, or of the press, or of the popular right to
assemble and petitition the government for redress of
grievances, the billeting of soldiers, unreasonable
searches or seizures, or general warrants, trials for
infamous critoes except through the action of a grand
jury, subjecting a person for the same offence to be
twice put in jeopardy of life or limb, compelling him
lo witness against himself in criminal cases, the taking
of life, liberty, or property without due process of law
or without compensation for property, and the demand
of excessive bail, or the imposition of excessive or of
cruel or unusual punishments. They confirmed the
right of the people to keep and bear arms, to a jury
trial from the vicinage in criminal csises or in cases
involving more than twenty dollars, to a copy of the
indictment, to the testimony against the prisoner, to
compulsory process in his half, and to counsel for him.
Finally, it is declared that " the enumeration of certain
rights shall not be construed to deny or disparage
others retained by the people," and that "the powers
not granted to the United States by the constitution,
nor prohibited by it to the states, are reserved to the
states respectively, or to the people."
136. All the debts of the federation, and its engage-
ments, were made binding on the new government;
and the constitution, and the laws and treaties to be
made under it were declared to be " the supreme law
of the land;" the judges in every state were to be bound j" *^°
thereby, " anything in the constitution or laws of any
state to the contrary notwithst.anding." The language
of this clause is clear and explicit. The people of the
United States established this constitution for the
United States. It was the work of the nation itself,
and was binding in every part of the republic. This
clause was intended to affirm the supremacy of the
national government over the state governments. If
the constitution was not the supreme law of the land
ic would not be a consitution, it would be a nullity.
Its supremacy is necessarily involved in the instrument
itself, yet it was necessary to declare it, in order that
all might understand it and no room be left for
controversy.
VI. TEE GOVKBNMENT UNDER THE CONSTITUTION.
137. As soon as the constitution had been ratified by
the requisite number of states. Congress named the
first Wednesday in January, 1789, as the day for the
choice of electors, the first Wednesday in February for
the choice of president and vice-president, and the
first Wednesday in March for the inauguration of the
new government at New York city. The last date fell
on the 4th of March, and this has been the limit of each
president's term since that time. The election took
place at the appointed time, and when the votes of the
electors were counted before Congress it was found
that George Washington had been unanimously elected
president, and that John Adams, standing next on the
list, was vice-president. Before the inauguration, the
old Confederate Congress had " given up the ghost."
On October, 1788, its record ceased, and for nearly six
months the United States were without any national
government. The contest for nationality had been suc-
cessful, and the old order of things passed away for
ever.
138. The nation over which George Washington was
called to preside in 1789 was a third-rate power, inferior
in population and wealth to Holland, for example, and
about on alevel with Portugal or Denmark. The first cen-
sus was taken in 1790, and the population was then four
millions. The people were thinly scattered through the
thirteen states between the Atlantic and the Alle-
ghanies, beyond which mountainous barrier a few hardy
pioneers were making the beginnings of Tennessee,
Kentucky, and Ohio. Roads were few and bad, none
of the great rivers were bridged, mails were irregular.
There were few manufactures. Th"re were many
traders and merchant seamen in the coast towns of the
north, but the great majority of the people were
farmers, who lived on the produce of their own lands,
and seldom undertook long journeys. Hence the dif-
ferent parts of the country knew very little about each
other, and entertained absurd prejudices, and the
sentiment of union between the states was extremely
weak. East of the AUeghanies the red man had ceased
to be dangerous, but tales of Indian massacre still came
from regions no more remote than Ohio and Georgia,
Spain still held vast possessions west of the Mississippi.
prpme
a V of the
Till igmmr
tioi of
Wa,hiB»-
ton the nrrt
prcFidcDl.
rhe condl
tinr of Ibt
country.
The Bret
ceivw.
752
tr I^ I T E 1) STATES
The only other power which had possessions in North
Amprica was England. The feeling entertained toward
She states in England was one of mortification and
:hagrin, accompanied by the hope that the half-formed
mion would fall to pieces, and its separate states be
Iriven by disaster to beg to be taken back into the
British empire. The rest of Europe knew little about
the United States, and cared less.
The bo^m- 139. It was under these circumstances that the young
°'".?"f ""^ government began its career, and it was fortunate for
I^Jn"' it that it began under the auspices of such an ad-
ministration as Washington's. Congress met in New
York, March 4, 1789. It adopted twelve amendments
to the constitution, ter of which, as has been shown,
were ratified by the states. But the most pressing
business before Congress was to obtain money to pay
the debt of the confederation. This difiicult work was
so successfully accomplished that little change has been
found necessary in financial methods from that day to
this. Washington's cabinet consisted of Thomas
JefEerson, as secretary of state; Alexander Hamilton,
as secretary of the treasury ; and Henry Knox, as
secretary of war. John Jay was appointed chief
justice, and Edmund Randolph attorney general.
The financial success of the government was mainly
due to the organizing genius of Hamilton, assisted by
the skill and tact of Madison, as leading member of the
house of representatives. Hamilton saw in the pay-
ment of the national debt an opportunity to give
strength to the United States in the eyes of foreign
nations. He saw also that it gave an opportunity to
bind the states in a more perfect union. He proposed
Hftniiiton'B three measures: First, that the government shoald
menfurcB. assume the foreign debt of the Confederation, and pay
it in full ■ secondly, that the domestic debt, which
seemed to have been virtually repudiated, should like-
wise be assumed and paid; thirdly, that the dehls of
the separate slates should also be assumed and paid by
the federal government. The first proposition w.is
adopted unanimously. The second was opposed on the
ground that it would only benefit speculators, who had
bought up United States securities at a discount .j but
by dint of forcible reasoning the measure was carried.
The third measure caused great debale, and met with
violent opposition. There was a fierce and bitter
fight over it, which at last was only settled by great
political manipulation,
rederaiists 140. There were already two parties in the country,
indanti- tjjg Federalists, who desired a strong general govern-
e er.i ib j^^j^^^ ^j,j ^Jjq jj^j urged the people to accept the con-
stitution, and the anti-Federalists, who wished to give
more power to the state government, and less to the
general government. Hamilton was the leader of the
I^ederal party, and the anti-Federalists united to defeat
his last measure. At this time the site of a Federal
capital was to be selected. The northern people gen-
erally wished to have it not further south than the Del-
aware river, while the southerners were determined to
have it no further north than the Potomac. Hamilton
was bent on carrying his point, and took advantage of
this dispute. He persuaded two Virginia congressmen
to change their votes and support his measure. In re-
turn he promised to use his influence to have the capital
located upon the banks of the Potomac, instead of at
some northern point. This change of votes gave him
the requisite majority. The assumption of state debts
was a master stroke of policy. All those persons to
whom any state owed money were at once won over to
the support of the Federal government. Many of these
persons were powerful and wealthy; and all now felt a
common interest in upholding the national credit,
which, through these wise and vigorous measures of
Hamilton, was soon completely restored.
Revenae. l^l. The next step was to raise a revenue for the
carrying on of the government, and this must be raised
by Federal taxation. There were two ways in which
this could be done — by imposing duties on goods im-
ported into the country, or by levying internal taxes.
By the first method, the United States would declare ita
right to tax foreigners; by the second, to tax its owa
citizens. The former method was mainly resorted to,
because it was more indirect, and because the people,
as yet, did not like the idea of being directly taxed to
support the general government, even though it had
been established by themselves. However, a tax was
laid upon the manufacture of spirituous liquors in 1794,
and this caused serious trouble. The settlers in the
mountains of Pennsylvania and Virginia had long since
found out that it cost more to carry their corn and
wheat to market than they could sell it for, and accord-
ingly they distilled it into whisky. When Congress
laid a tax on whisky, they bitterly opposed it, and when WTiisky io-
the revenue officers came to collect the tax, the settlers correction,
refused to pay it, and threatened to take up arms. But
Washington instantly sent an army of sixteen thousand
men into the disaffected region, and the insurrection
was summarily suppressed.
143. The Indian tribes on the Ohio became very Indian wac
troublesome to the settlers who now began to pour into
the west. General Harmer, who was sent against the
savages in 1790, was defeated near the present site of
Fort Wayne, Indiana, and General St. Clair met with a
similar di-iaster the next year. General Wayne ("Mad
Anthony") was then despatched to the Indian country.
He devastated their villages, sweeping everything be-
fore him till he reached the Maumee river, in the north- ~
west corner of Ohio. There he won agreat victory near
the site of Maumee City, August 20, 1794, and obliged
the Indians to sue for terms. By a treaty concluded in
the following year, the United States acquired from the
sava^'es a large tract for settlement in the present states
of Ohio and Indiana.
I'lS About this time the divisions between political Origin of
parties become strongly marked. The occasional irrita- P"i'Uc»i
tioQ shown in the debates in Congress is an evidence '""^ '''"
that the first ill defined estimate of the new scheme of
government was giving way to positive and settled
opinions of its powers, and of the policy which should
be followed in managing it. As we have seen, people
were first divided into two great national parties in the
autumn of 1787. when the question at issue was whether
the Federal con-stitution should be ratified by the states.
It is probable that a majority of the American people
were anti-Federaliits in 1789, although the Federalists,
by the active assistance of many of their natural op-
ponents, had gained the executive, the house, the ju-
diciary and mo-it of the state legislatures, and were able
to defeat the disagreeing factions known collectively as
anti Federalists. Hamilton's measures as secretary of
the treasury embodied an entire system of public policy,
and the opposition to them made the differences be-
tween the two parties still more prominent. Hamil-
ton's opponents, led by Jefferson, made the objection
to his principal measures that they assumed powers in
the national government which were not granted to it
by the conslitution. Hamilton then fell back upon the
elastic clause of the constitution, and maintained that
these powers were implied in it. Jefferson held that this
docirine of "implied powers' ' stretched theelastic clause*
too far. He claimed that this clause ought to be construed
strictly and narrowly. Hamilton contended that it
ought to be construed loosely and liberally. Hence the
names "slrict-constructionist" and "loose-construction-
ist," which mark, perhaps, the most profound and abid-
ing antagonism in the history of American politics.
144. During the year 1792, the various anti-Federalist
factions had become cemented into one party through
their efforts in resisting the Federalists, but the party
still lacked a name. That of anti-Federalist was no
longer applicable, for its opposition to the Federal
* Article I., Section 'Vin., Clause 18.
UNITED STATES
753
vmion bad entirely ceased, and the parties had become
divided in the only sound and healthy way possible in
a free country, namely, into those who wished to ex-
tend, and those who wished to limit, the powers of gov-
ernment. Neither party had been consistent in apply-
ing its principles, but in the main, Hamilton can be
called the founder of the Federalist party, which had
for its successors the National Republicans of 1828, the
Whigs of 1833 to 1852, and the Republicans of 1854 to
the present time; while Jefferson may be regarded as the
founder of the party which, after discarding the old
name of an ti- Federalist, adopted that of Democratic-
Republican. This always was the official party title.
They preferred to be called Republicans, while their
enemies tried to call them Democrats, an epithet which
was then supposed to convey a stigma. However, the
correct name for this party was Republican from about
1792 to about 1828, and since then it has been known aa
the Democratic party.
145. At the request of both Federalists and Republi-
cans, Washington consented to serve as president a
second time, so that the party contest was narrowed
down to the vice-presidency. For this office the anti-
Federalists, or Republicans, as they were now called,
supported George Clinton, of New York, while the
Federalists presented the name of John Adams. Jef-
ferson would doubtless have been put forward, but that
would have cost Virginia her vote, for her electors
could not have voted for Washington and Jefferson,
both being from Virginia. The presidential election
took place November 6, 1792, and resulted in a Fed-
eralist success and the re-election of John Adams.
During Washington's first term, Vermont, by consent
of Congress, was admitted into the Union (February
18, 1791.) and Kentucky became a state on the 1st of
June, 1792. In the year 1791 a bill for the establish-
Nmioual ment of a national bank was introduced into Congress,
bank. which passed after a strong debate.
Washiug- 146. During the first years of the American Republic,
the terrible scenes of the French Revolution were en-
acted. Jefferson and the anti-Federalists sympathized
strongly with the French Revolutionists, and wished to
aid them in their struggle against the European powers.
This party specially affected the leveling principles
avowed by the French Republicans, and the opposite
party did not object to these principles to a limited de-
gree. Early in April, 1793, news was received that the
French Republic had declared war against Great Brit-
ain and Holland. It excited the sympathies of the
American people for their sister republic, even though
that republic was the aggressor; and it needed a firm
band and indomitable will like Washington's at this
time to control public affairs, for the country was in a
position to drift easOy into war as an ally of France.
Washington consulted his cabinet, and by their unani-
mous advice determined to regard the former treaty as
P ocjama- nullified by the change of government in France, and to
t-on of issue his proclamation of neutrality between the French
•'(•ntrality. Republic and her enemies. The proclamation at once
called down a storm of rage and invective against the
president. He was assailed by the press and extreme
republicans, and accused of being an enemy to France
and republican institutions, of disregarding a solemn
treaty, and of usurping the functions of Congress in re-
gard to the announcement of peace or war.
147. The French expected the Americans to help
them in their war with England; and in 1793 they sent
over a minister to the United States to induce them to
Citizen do so. This man was called Citizen Genet. He arrived
<3«iie< at Charleston, South Carolina, in April, and was re-
ceived with the most extravagant marks of public
attachment. Misled by the warmth of his reception,
he entered on and persisted in a course which would
only have been pardonable if he had been still on
French soil. He fitted out privateers from American
ports to cruise against the enemies of France, and
2.S— 27
lon'e eec-
oud term.
sought to embark the American people in the cause of
his country whatever might be the determination of
the government. Many Republicans were disposed to
uphold him in all his acts, but his insolence presently
disgusted his own supporters. He violently assailed
President Washington and the government, and other-
wise misbehaved himself, until Washington sternly
checked his proceedings, and at length complained of
him to the French government, which thought best to
recall him.
148. About this time war was apprehended between ThiHueiie''
the United Stales and England. England haa never """^''^
accredited a minister resident to the United States, and ' ""
had refused to carry out those articles of the Treaty of
1783, which bound her to surrender her military posts
on United States soil, and to pay for the slaves carried
away by her armies. She had also issued orders which
bore hard upon American merchants and sailors. She
claimed the right to lay hold of any provision for the
enemy which she might find in a neutral vessel, to seize
the product of French colonies wherever found; and to
board any vessel to make search for seamen of British
birth, and carry them off for her own service. It
was also believed that her agents had interfered to
prevent treaties of peace with the savages of the north-
west, and had incited them to renewed attacks upon
the frontier settlements. Her refusal to evacuate the
western posts was grounded on the alleged unjustifiable
neglect of the United States to enforce that article of
the treaty of 1783 which provided for the payment of
debts due to British subjects. For her further offensive
measures no justification was offered, except her sover-
eign will. Out of these circumstances war might
easily have grown, and it required all the wisdom of
Washington and his advisers to prevent it. So bitter
was the feeling against England held by men of both
parties, that Congress began at once to take measures
to raise an- army, equip a navy and to stop all commerce
with her. War was imminent, and Washington deter-
mined to avert it.
149. He appointed John Jay, who was then chief Jay's
justice, to be envoy extraordinary to England, for the "''^'"y-
purpose of preserving peace by a new treaty, in which
the points in dispute between the two countries should
be settled. . Jay concluded a treaty with England
which did not satisfy him, but which was the best he
could secure. It reached America March 7, 1795, and
was sent to the senate in special session. June 8. The
treaty provided that the western posts be surrendered
to the United States, that compensation be made for
illegal captures of American property, and British
creditors be secured the means of collecting debts, con-
tracted prior to the Revolution. But England still
retained the right of impressing American seamen of
English birth, and of shutting off American commerce
from the West Indian trade. When the conditions of
the treaty became known there was great excitement
in all portions of the country, and the wrath of the
Republicans rose to fever heat. Hamilton was stoned
on the street, and scurrilous newspapers railed against
Washington, calling him the " step-father of his
country." But the senate ratified the treaty, and
Washington signed it, because, imperfect though it
was, it was better than none, and would avert war.
It was the first substantial recognition which England
had made of the sovereign rights of the United States,
and the result proved Washington's wisdom, for peace
prevailed, commerce revived, and many who had at
first denounced the treaty, became its friends.
150. During Washington's second term, party con- P*''!*'
tests had become numerous in the sessions of Congress. ^"^ "^^
After much opposition on the part of the Republicans,
the Federalists succeeded in passing a system of in-
direct taxation to provide for the increased expenses of
the government. A Federalist bill to prevent such
practices as Genet's was opposed by the Republicans,
loi
UNITED STATES
but was passed with some moditications. An attempt
was made by some of the Republicans to secure the
passage of resolutions censuring Hamilton's manage-
ment of the treasury, but it met with no success. The
supreme court had decided that an action brought by a
citizen of the United States would lie against a state,
just as against any other corporation. This alarmed
the Republicans. An amendment to the constitution
was therefore adopted by Congress, securing states
against suits in the United States courts. It was after-
ward ratified by the required number of states, and
T^";^'"" became the Xlth Amendment, which has enabled so
f,,,'.™. many states to repudiate debt with impunity. In June,
1796, Tennessee, formerly a part of North Carolina,
became a state of the union.
151. The time for a new election of president was
now at hand. Washington was importuned to accept
a third term of office. Electors nominated by both
parties were called upon to promise that, if elected,
they would give their first votes to Washington, but he
refused to accept. When he retired from the presi-
V. ashing- dency he made a farewell address to the people of the
V "I'lVd"'^" United States. In that address, which is weighty with
«i.-isf. words of wisdom, he urged the people to prize the
Union which they had formed ; to remember that each
part of the country had free intercourse with all other
parts, and that each could help the other. He begged
them to suffer no parties to gain ascendancy in the
Union which should weaken its strength, and bade
them to glory in the name of America. He reminded
them that Europe had interests in which America had
little concern, warned them against the admission of
any European or other foreign influence into American
councils, and urged them to make religion, education
and public good faith the basis of government.
152. As Washington refused to be a candidate for a
third term, the election of 1796 was warmly contested
by the two parties. No formal nominations were
made but it was understood that the Republican
electors would cast their votes for Thomas Jefferson,
Df Virginia, and Aaron Burr, of New York, and the
Federalist electors for John Adams, of Massachusetts,
ind Thomas Pinckney, of Maryland. Hamilton, hav-
ing made so many enemies by his political zeal, was
Tlie princi- not considered a suitable candidate. The principles of
pi.-si)fthe tjjg two parties were distinctly understood. The
""P"""'* Republicans claimed to be the friends of liberty and
the rights of man, the advocates of economy and of
the rights of the states. The Federalists claimed sup
port as the authors of the Government, the friends of
neutrality, peace and prosperity, and the direct in-
heritors of Washington's policy. In February, 1797,
the electrical votes were counted, and John Adams,
the Federalist candidate, was found to be elected
president, and Jefferson, according to the rule at the
time, as second on the list, became vice-president.
This was an unwise rule, since under it the death of
the president might reverse the result of the election.
153. On March 4, 1797, Adams and Jefferson were
sworn into office. Shortly after the commencement of
President Adams' administration the French Directory,
displeased with the strict neutrality which the United
States had observed during its war with England, and
also on account of the treaty of peace which had
been recently entered into between England and the
United States, adopted resolutions highly injurious to
r ^'^"^''"'^ American commerce, and refused to receive Mr.
Pinckney, the American minister, until the United
States had complied with their demands. The first
act of Mr. Adams was to call an extra session of Con-
gress, to determine how a war with France was to be
avoided. A special commission of three envoys was
sent to France, John Marshall, afterward chief justice,
Charles Pickney and Elbridge Gerry, but the French
government refused to receive them. Prince Talley-
rand had the impudence to send secret agents to deal
f ;.-.ncc.
with the envoys. The.se agents demanded that a large
sum of money be paid the government before the
envoys could be received at all. After that the United
States must lend money to France to enable her to
carry on her war. When this was done Prance would
repeal some of the acts which injured American com-
merce.
154. The envoys indignantly refused to accept such
terms and sent home to America an account of this
infamous proposal, and Mr. Adams laid the dispatches
before Congress, substituting the letters X. Y. Z. for x. Y. Z.
Talleyrand's emissaries. Hence, these papers have dispatches,
ever since been known as the "X. Y. Z. dispatches."
April 8 the senate voted to publish the X. Y. Z. letters
and the dispatches of the envoys. To England they
seemed of such importance that they were sent to every
part of Europe to excite feeling against France. One
burst of indignation arose in America, and for the
moment the Republican party seemed overwhelmed.
Pinckney had declared, " Millions for defence, but not
one cent for tribute," and the words were taken up as
a popular cry. The United States prepared for war.
A few excellent frigates were built, an army was
raised, and Washington was placed in command with
the rank of lieutenant-general. It was during this
excitement that the song of "Hail Columbia" was
published. American men-of-war were ordered to
seize any French vessels which should commit depreda-
tions on American commerce, and some naval engage-
ments took place with success on the American side.
Intercourse with France was suspended. The treaties
with France were no longer binding upon the United
States, and authority was given to the president to
issue letters of marque and reprisal.
155. The country was now on the side of the govern-
ment. The Federalists, who had been losing ground,
were now stronger than before. They attempted to
strengthen the government still further by passing in
Congress two acts caHed the alien and sedition laws. Alien and
The first of these acts, passed June 25, 1798, author- f*^^''°°
ized the president to order out of the country any alien
whom he might regard as dangerous to the peace and
liberty of America, and made provisions for the fining
and imprisonment of such aliens as refused to obey the
president's order. July 14 the sedition law was passed.
By this act a heavy fine and imprisonment were im-
posed upon such as should combine or conspire to-
gether to oppose any measure of the government, and
upon such as should utter any false, scandalous or ma-
licious writing against the government, Congress or
president of the United States. This act was to re-
main in force until March 3, 1801. These lawj placed
a power in the hands of the government which alarmed
the Republicans. They claimed that the laws were
aimed against them. They opposed the action of Con-
gress, not as friends of France but as Americans. They
believed that less power should be given to the federal
government, and more to the separate states. This be-
lief, which BO nearly prevented the adoption of the
constitution, had never disappeared. It showed itself
on every occasion, and helped to shape the course of
the Democratic-Republican party. This party came to
be called the Statesright party, because it was jealous
lest the states should not have all their rights under the
constitution.
156. Thus, when the Federalists forced through Con-
gress the alien and sedition laws, they called forth a
vigorous remonstrance from the southern Republicans.
A series of resolutions, drawn up by Jefferson, was
adopted by the legislature of Kentucky (1798), and a
similar series, drawn up by Madison, was adopted in
the same year by the legislature of Virginia. These ^^J'^f''-^
are known as the Kentucky and the Virginia Resolu- gjnja ^esiv
tions of 1798. The Virginia Resolutions asserted that fntions ot
in adopting the constitution the states had surrendered l^*^-
only a limited portion of their powers; that whenever
UNITED STATES
755
i
t'je Federo.i goverDment should exceed its delega'ed
•aulhority. it was the right and duty of the states to in-
terpose and pronounce such acts unconstitutional. Ac-
cordingly, by these resolutions. Virginia declared the
alien and sedition laws to be a usurpation by the Fed-
eral government of powers not granted to it, and were
thereby unconstitutional, and she appealed to the other
states to join in that declaration. The response from
other states being unfavorable. Virginia repealed those
resolutions the next year. 1799.
157 The attitude assumed by Virginia in these reso-
lutions was certainly uncalled for, either on her part
or that of any other state, inasmuch as the constitu-
tionality of the acts of Congress could be decided by
a competent tribunal only — the federal supreme court.
kentuctT The Kentucky Resolutions were to the same general
r?=Hjiui.ons eggct as those of Virginia, but with the additional dec-
laration that the federal constitution was merely a com-
pact, to which the several states were the one party
and the federal government the other, and that each
party must decide for itself as to the infractions of the
compact, and as to the proper remedy to be adopted.
These resolutions received as little attention as those of
Virginia. In the following year (1799) Kentucky re-
pealed the resolutions, but with the additional clause
that a state might rightfully nullify and declare void
any act of Congress which it might consider unconsti-
tutional This was a dangerous assumption, for it
verged upon the right of secession, and these resolu
tions were used by the south as a partial precedent for
nullification in 1832. and for sscession in I860
158 Meanwhile, though there was open hostility be-
tween France and the United States, war was not act-
ually declared The French, seeing the warlike alti-
tude of the United Slates, became more aivil. Talley-
rand tried to disavow the X Y Z. affair, and made
conciliatory proposals to Vans Murray, the American
minister at the Hague. The president had expressed
his determination to send no more ministers to France
until assured of a friendly reception, but he suddenly
appointed three envoys to that country against the pro-
test of two of his cabinet. Their protest was sus-
tained by the leading Federalists throughout the coun-
try, and by this act the president lost, in some degree,
the support of his party For some time also there bad
been intense jealousy and dislike between Adams and
Hamilton, the other great Federalist leader, and th>e
increased the difficulties of the Federalist party When
the new embassy reached Paris, they found the gov-
ernment in the hands of Napoleon Bonaparte, who
gave them a cordial welcome, and they soon succeeded
in settling the matters in dispute in an amicable man-
ner The policy of John Adams in making peace with
France, contrary to the popular sentiment, demands
the highest commendation, but it lost him the presi-
dency for a second term.
169. On the 14th of December. 1799. George Wash
ington died at Mount Vernon after only one day's ill
ness. The event was mourned all over the United
States with sincere sorrow, and was appropriately ob-
served by Congress and other public bodies. Bonaparte
ordered the standards of the French army to be shrouded
in crape for ten days, and in England a fleet of sixty
British men-of war lowered their flags to half mast. In
_ (the following year the national capital was removed
tue capital from Philadelphia to the site chosen on the banksof the
Potomac. The city there laid out received the name of
of Washington
160. By the spring of 1800 it became manifest that
the Federalist party was losing ground. In April the
New York state election went against them. Soon
after this, the dismissal by the president of some of the
the cabinet officers who were too friendly with Hamil-
ton, caused an irreparable break in the party. Hamil-
ton printed a severe attack on the president, and en-
deavored to make arrang-ements for giving Pinckney a
D-sibor
WaaDlOg
R?a>o»ai '
Tbefonrtb
pr«9iden
t:»l elec-
tlOD
majority of Federalist electors that he might br chosen
president and Adams vice-president, as these two were
the nominees of the Federalist party The Republican
candidates were Thomas Jefferson, of Virginia, and
Aaron Burr, of New York Th6 fourth presidential
election took place in November, 1800 The election
was very close. In February. 1801, the electoral votes
were counted, of which 73 were for Jefferson, 73 for
Burr. 65 for Adams, 64 for Pinckney, and I for Jay
There was no highest name on the list, and it was left
for the house of representatives to choose between the
two highest candidates. The house was Federalist, but
was restricted to a choice between two Republicans.
Some of the Federalists wished to elect Burr instead of
their great opponent, Jefferson, but Hamilton used all
his influence against such a scheme, and at last, on
February 17. 1801, Jefferson was elected by the house
and Burr became vice president
161 The inauguration of Jefferson was the first that Foanh
took place in the city of Washington. The new presi- ^Jj,™'""'"'
dent's first inaugural message announced the future
policy of the Republican party to be careful fostering
of the state governments, the restriction of the powers
of the Federal government to their lowest constitutional
limit, the immediate payment of the national debt and
the reduction of the army, the navy, the taxes, and the
duties on imports, to the lowest available point. Many
of the Federalists believed that speedy ruin to thecoun
try would follow the advent of Jefferson to the presi-
dency. He was "an atheist in religion and a fanatic in
politics," and the vice-president was only more tolerable
because less known. The parly which supported them.
It was claimed, was composed of revolutionists, disot
ganizers and Jacobins. The Federalist party, which
contained the larger portion of the intellect, wealth and
culture of the country, honestly believed, no doubt,
that the government had fallen into bad hands But
their fears were groundless The president's first ad
ministration was marked by national prosperity The
principal offices of government were transferred to the
Republican party, and execuiive pardons were issued
to those persons who had been imprisoned under the
alien and sedition laws. The supreme court, under the
lead of Chief Justice Marshall, remained Federalist in
complexion, and did a grand work for several years in
interpreting and strengthening the constitution. Presi-
dent Jefferson instituted the custom of sending a writ-
ten message to both houses of Congress as more befit
ting Republican simplicity, instead of giving the ad
dress m person, which had hitherto been the rule
162 The population of the United States was rapidly Voe
increasing, and was beginning to press fcrrwardinto the t-^tn-'i-o
Mississippi valley. In 1802 Ohio was admitted into the P'"''-'^"'
union. Mississippi and Indiana were already organized
as territories, and a growing interest was felt in the
western country. By a secret treaty with Spain in
1800, France had recovered the territory of Louisiana,
the Spanish civil officers, however, were left in com
mand, and in 1802 the Spanish inlendanl at New Or-
leans issued a proclamation closing the Mississippi to
Am^fiQan commerce. This action threatened to result
in war. Jefferson had opened negotiations with Napo-
leon for the purchase of the territory The French em
peror had at first refused to treat on theeubject He
bad acquired this territory with the vague intention of
regaining the French ascendancy in America, which
had been lost in the seven years' war. Knowing thai
whoever controlled the mouth of the Mississippi-must
become master of the whole valley, Jefferson proposed
to buy New Orleans. Napoleon had refused this. also,
but in 1803 the prospect of a renewed war with Great
Britain made him change his mind He knew that in
case of war an English fleet would be sent to take pos
session of Louisiana, and that it would be impossible
for the French to hold the port of New Orleans He
was d<!termined that the place should not fall into the
756
UNITED STATES
hands of his powerful enemy, so he offered to sell it to
the United States for fifteen million dollars. The presi-
dent at once agreed to the proposition, though he be-
lieved that the constitution gave the Federal govern-
ment no power to purchase foreign territory and make
it a part of the union. In this instance, an article for
the ratification of the purchase was prepared as an
amendment to the constitution, but was never offered,
as the president's action met with a general acquiescence
and has since been imitated in similar instances with-
out question. The Louisiana purchase included every-
thing west of the Mississippi not already occupied by
Spain, and comprised the whole or part of the present
states of Arkansas, Colorado. Iowa, Kansas, Louisiana,
Minnesota, Missouri, Nebraska, Oregon, the two Dako-
tas, Montana, Washington, Wyoming, Idaho, and
the Indian territory. The eflfect of this great acqui-
sition of territory, by such an active and prosper-
ous people as the Americans, was to Insure them the
ultimate control of the continent without incurring any
foreigm warfare worth historic mention. It set the na-
tion free for an indefinite length of time from European
complications, but, on the other hand, it was the means
of creating some new and formidable features in the
rivalry between the free states and slave states.
The 163. The Barbary states on the southern shores of
Tnpoliian jj^^ Mediterranean were in the habit of sending out
piratical vessels to prey upon the commerce of other
nations and reduce their sailors to slavery. All the
great powers of Europe, as well as the United States,
had adopted the custom of paying tribute to these petty
governments, in order to secure immunity for their
trade. But these pirates grew increasingly insolent, so
that the patience of the American government became
entirely exhausted. A small fleet was sent out to the
Mediterranean, which bombarded Tripoli. After a
desultory warfare extending over two years, the Tri-
politans sued for peace. The English government
then followed the example of the United States, and in
a few years more this aboniinable nuisance was sup-
pressed.
In the latter part of 1803, during the first session of
the VIII Congress, the manner of the presidential
election was amended to the form which it has at
present. The amendment having been ratified hy the
The xilth necessary number of states, this became the XII
amend- amendment to the constitution. Articles of impeach-
™'^°'' ment were voted by the house against a federalist
judge. Chase of Maryland, for arbitrary and oppressive
conduct in trying cases under the alien and sedition
laws. At the next session of Congress in 1804, Chase
was tried and acquitted.
164. In 1804 Jefferson was re-elected president, with
George Clinton for vice-president, in place of Aaron
Burr, who had separated from his party. The feder-
alists then made Burr a candidate for the governorship
of New York, but here, as in 1801, Hamilton used his
influence against him, and Burr was defeated. Resent-
ing this opposition, Burr contrived to force Hamilton
into the acceptance of a challenge. They met on July
11, 1804, and Hamilton was killed. The mourning of
the country over the loss of this distinguished man
was intense, and the wretched Burr found that his
public career was at an end. Bankrupt in fortune, and
a fugitive from home, he visited New Orleans and
other parts of the south and west (1805) for the pur-
^rr's COD- pose of arranging an enterprise whose exact object has
'^^' never been positively discovered. He planned either
the seizure of Mexico, or the establishment of a mon-
archy west of the Alleghanies. He was arrested by
the federal government on a charge of treason, and
was tried before Chief Justice Marshall in September,
1807, but after a long investigation he was acquitted
m consequence of a defect in the chain of evidence.
Afterward he became an outcast from society and died
in obscurity.
Hamilton
and Borr.
165. On the 4th of March, 1805, Jefferson and Clin- Jefferson's
ton were sworn into oflSce. Jefferson's second admin- !j';°f„i,,,„
istration was the beginning of a stormy period which tion.
ended in war. The wars of Napoleon still continued,
and France and Great Britain were using every expedi-
ent to cripple each other without regard to the rights
of neutral nations. In the beginning of these wars
the United States, being a neutral power, had acquired
a valuable foreign commerce, but this was speedily
destroyed by the arbitrary measures of the belligerents.
With his famous Berlin and Milan decrees. Napoleon
sought to prevent neutral vessels from entering British
harbors, and claimed the right to seize all vessels trad-
ing with England or her colonies (1806). England
replied with her orders of council issued by the king,
which forbade all commerce with the ports of Europe
that were within the French dominion or in countries
allied with France. If an American vessel touched at
almost any port of continental Europe, the first British
cruiser that came along deemed her its lawful prey; if
she touched at a British port, she was liable to capture
by the first French craft that she should meet. Jeffer-
son had abandoned the policy which Adams had
adopted of building a strong navy. He imagined it
possible to defend American harbors by means of gun-
boats carrying each one gun, and had recommended
this plan, which Congress adopted. This "Gunboat
System" was always hateful to the navy, and was a
constant object of federalist ridicule and attack.
166. While the offensive measures of England and
France made American merchantmen a prey to both
parties, England, in another respect, possessed a pecu-
liar power of annoying the United States. She still The righi
claimed and exercised the right of stopping American °' ^s»''^i>
vessels and seizing all sailors, even naturalized citizens,
who were supposed to be British subjects. In June.
1807, the insolence of this claim was carried so far that
the British man-of-war. Leopard, stopped the United
States frigate, Chesapeake, off the entrance of Chesa-
peake Bay, fired into her, killing or wounding twenty-
one of the crew, and took off four men, three of whom
were Americans. President Jefferson demanded repar-
ation for this outrage, and issued a proclamation order-
ing all British war vessels out of American waters.
The British government was ready to disavow the act
of the Leopard, but there was no willingness shown to
make reparation. Feeling unprepared for war, the
United States government had recourse to an exceed-
ingly stupid and dangerous measure. The president
recommended a bill by which American vessels should
be prohibited from leaving foreign ports, and foreign
vessels from taking cargoes from the United States, Embargo
and all coasting vessels should be required to give ' ■
bonds to land their cargoes in the United States. 'This
was the celebrated Embargo Bill, which did more
harm to American commerce than all the cruisers of
France and England were able to do. It also intensi-
fied party feeling and even threatened the existence of
the union.
167. As time went on the Embargo Act became so
unpopular that before the close of Jefferson's second
term many of his friends forsook him. A great pres-
sure was brought to bear upon Congress to repeal the
act. It passed in its place the Non-intercourse Act. ><'on-inte>-
This act prohibited trade with England and France so™'"''"' "''■
long as their obnoxious measures should be kept in
force, but it allowed free trade with other countries.
Among the other important events of Mr. Jefferson's Other
administration were the passing of an act of Congress e^™"-
prohibiting the slave trade after January 1, 1808; the
beginning of the United States coast survey, a valuable
work which is still continued to the great credit of
American science, and the application of steam to
navigation by Robert Fulton. Jefferson refused to be
a candidate for a third term, and at the election in
1808, James Madison, of Virginia, was chosen president
i
I
UNITED STATES
101
by the Republican, or. as it now began to be called,
the Democratic party. Clinton was re elected vice-
president. The candidates of the Federalists were
C. C. Pinckney and Rufus King.
M»d:sim's 168. The Non-intercourse Act went into force March
uot'""*'" ■*' 1809. when Mr. Madison succeeded to the presidency.
He belonged to Jefferson's party and continued his
policy. Party feeling had grown very bitter. New
England, which suffered the greatest from the break-
ing up of trade, was the stronghold of the Federalists.
They complained loudly that if it were not for the
Embargo and Non intercourse Acts there would be no
trouble. The southern and western people, who were
principally Democratic Republicans, retorted that they
had evidence of negotiations between fhe New England
Federalists and England; that the Federalists were
planning for a separation of New England from the
union. This charge was indignantly denied, but it
helped increase political hostilities. In 1810 Congress
repealed the Non-intercourse Act, which had accom-
plished nothing in the way of intimidation. Congress
then informed England and France that if either
nation would repeal its obnoxious measures the Non-
intercourse Act would be revived against the other.
Napoleon was studying how he might get the advan-
tage of England, and he withilrew, or pretended to
withdraw, his decrees prohibiting commerce with
England so far as the United States were concerned,
but at the same time gave secret orders by which the
decrees were to be practically enforced as harshly as
ever. Congress at once revived the Non-intercourse
Act against Great Britain alone.
rfe^;uiiing 169. England and the United States grew more
',j.J'"*" " irritated with each other, and in 1811 hostilities actually
began on sea and land. In May the United States
frigate Pre^dent hailed the British man-of-wr,r Little
Belt and was answered by a shot. The President then
replied with a shot in turn, and a sharp action ensued
in which the Little Belt was badly crippled, and lost
thirty-oue killed and wounded. Tecumseh, the famous
Shawnee chief, had gathered a large number of war-
riors, and at the instigation of the British they were
' attacking the northwestern settlements. General Har-
rison marched against them, and on November 7 he
defeated them at Tippecanoe. The English continued
to seize vessels and men. More than nine hundred
American vessels had been seized since 1803. and
several thousand American seamen had been impressed
into the British service. The people of the United
States were exasperated at their losses and their in-
ability to protect themselves. Madison wished to
continue the general peace policy of Jefferson, but new
leaders had sprung up in the Republican party who
'were in favor of war. Chief among these were Henry
Clay, of Kentucky, speaker of the house, William H.
Crawford, in the senate, and John C. Calhoun, of
South Carolina, in the house. These became the
recognized congressional leaders of the party. The
economical and retrenching policy of Jefferson was
abandoned, and preparations were begun for hostilities.
Bills were passed to enlist men, to organize the militia
and to enlarge and equip the army.
170. President Madison was given to understand that
his nomination for a second term of olBce depended
upon his adoption of the war policy, otherwise DeWitt
Clinton, of New York, would be nominated in his
stead. The president accepted the conditions and on
i>. jara- ^ jmjg 18, 1813, war against Great Britain was formally
declared. It was soon learned that the British gov-
ernment had revoked the orders in council live days
after the declaration of war, but this concession came
too late. Even if it had come in time probably nothing
short of an abandoment of the right of search and
impressment on Great Britain's part would have proved
satisfactory. The war feeling was by no means unan-
imous. The New England Federalists bitterly op-
tA<s of war
posed it. The chief support came from „ne south and
west, which felt less keenly the effect upon their
prosperity, caused by the breaking up of commerce.
Immediately after the declaration of war the Federalist
members of Congress had published their protest
against it in an address to their constituents. When
requisitions were made by the president upon the
governors of the different states for their respective
quotas of troops, according to the act passed by Con-
gress to embody the militia, the governors of Massa-
chusetts and Connecticut refused to allow their militia
to leave their states on the ground that it was uncon-
stitutional for the Federal government to call out the
militia except in case of an invasion or resistance to
the laws of the United States, and neither of these had
taken place. April ^0, 1812, Louisiana was admitted
into the union of states.
171. The war opened by the invasion of Canada by '^/'*„^"
General Hull, who was ordered to cross at Detroit and
attack Fort Maiden a few miles distant, but he was
compelled to fall back again to Detroit. Here he was
attacked by a large force of British and Indians under
General Brock and Tecumseh. Believing he was not
strong enough to defend the place he surrendered Surrpndtr
(August 16, 1812), not only Detroit, with its garrison "' 'J'-"''"'
and stores, but the whole territory of Michigan. Being
exchanged, after some time he was tried by a court-
martial on charges of treason and cowardice. He was
acquited of treason and was sentenced to be shot for
cowardice, but was pardoned by the president on
account of his past good services. In October another
attempt was made upon Canada near Niagara. A
small force crossed the river and attacked the Britisb
in a strong position on Queenstown Heights. At first Queens-
the Americans were successful but were at last defeated 't'"'
with heavy loss. Heights.
172. To compensate for these disasters on land the s^vrx
little American navy won imperishable glory on the esplt-ite.
ocean. The United States frigate Essex, Captain
Porter, captured the British sloop-of-war Alert after a
tight of eight minutes, without losing a man. The
Constitution, Captain Hull commanding, fought a
famous action with the British frigate Ouerriere near
the Gulf of St. Lawrence (August 19), and in less than
an hour completely destroyed her. This victory dis-
pelled the belief that the British navy was invincible,
and the whole country w.as filled with transports of
delight. On the 18th of October the sloop-ofwar
Wasp, commanded by Captain Jones, captured the
British brig-of-war Frolic off the coast of Norih
Carolina, but the same day the British ship Poictiers
took both the captor and her prize. On October 25
the frigate United States, under Commodore Deca-
tur, fought a memorable action with the British
ship Macedonian, which surrendered to Decatur after
being nearly cut to pieces. This engagement took
place oS the Island of Madeira, but Decatur succeeded
in carrying his prize to America. The Constitution.
commanded by Captain Bambridge, in a two hours'
fight off the coast of Brazil, knocked to pieces the
British frigate Java (December 29), which lost 230 men
and had to be burned, while the Constitution lost but
twelve men and not a single spar.
173. During the first six months of the war the de-
spised American navy, of which even the Americans
expected but little, became the admiration of the world.
Privateers also were very active, and before the end of
the year the captures from the British numbered about
fifty vessels of war, two hundred and fifty merchant
vessels, and three thousand men. Under the impulse
of these successes the Federalists, who had been op-
posed to the war, were beaten in the autumn elections,
and Madison was re-elected president, with Eldridge The re-elec
Gerry for vice-president. The American disasters on timi of
land had led the government to collect a large army, Madison
which was placed under the command of General Har-
758
UNITED STATES
The war in rison. He first made an attempt (January, 1813,) to re-
th^^north- g^ygj. Detroit and the territory of Michigan, but was
driven back to Fort Meigs by Proctor, who besieged
him there, but unsuccessfully. So much of the frontier
was occupied by the great lakes that it was of the great-
est importance to get control of these, and for this pur-
pose, both British and Americans were basily engaged
during the summer of 1813 in building fleets. Captain
Oliver H. Perry directed the building of the fleet on
Lake Erie, and sailors were sent forward from the sea-
coast. He had just completed nine vessels, which were
...lie of &t anchor in Put-In-Bay, when he saw the British ap-
Liike Erip, proaching. He at once moved out to meet the enemy
(September 10) and in a little more than two hours was
able to send this dispatch to General Harrison, who was
in command on the Sandusky: "We have met the
ci.emy and they are ours; two ships, two brigs, one
schooner, and one sloop." This victory turned the
scale of war In the northwest. Harrison shipped his
army across the lake in Perry's tieet, and attacking
t-roctor at the River Thames (October 5). inflicted a
cr"ishing defeat upon him. This was a severe blow to
the Indians also, for their great leader, Tecumseh, was
killed. The American success restored the northwest-
er- territory to the country.
The Creek Vji In the spring of 1813 Tecumseh had visited and
*'"■■ rou-iea the Creek Indians of the southwest, and in
August iney took occasion to attack the frontier settle-
ments, 'beginnmg with the terrible massacre at Fort
Mimms, nea: Mobile. General Andrew Jackson, with
the formidable Tennessee militia, marched into the
Creek country, and won a series of telling victories, by
which they were entirely subdued, and purchased peace
by the surrenderof two- thirds of their hunting grounds.
In the meantime the British, after the defeat which
they had suffered from the American navy in 1812,
strengthened their Atlantic squadron. During the sum-
mer of 1813 they attempted to blockade the coast from
Maine to Georgia. Congress, in turn, hastened to build
new ships; and the courageous privateers continued to
fight pluckily, and to bring prizes into the United States
Events on ports. In February, 1813, the American sloop Hornet,
the eea. Captain Lawrence commanding, destroyed the British
brig Peacock, which sank before all of her crew could
be removed. On his return to the TJnited States, Law-
rence was promoted to the frigate Chesapeake, with
which, on June 1, he had a severe engagement with the
British frigate Shannon near Boston. Lawrence was
mortally wounded at the beginning of the action. As
he was carried below, he exclaimed: " Don't give up
the ship!" The Chesapeake, however, was captured by
boarding, after she had lost a large proportion of her
cflicers and men. The Argvs, Captain Allen, was cap-
tured by the British man-of-war Pelican (August 14),
after a gallant fight in which Captain Allen received his
death wound. Lieutenant Burrows, in the brig Enter-
prise, captured the British brig Boxer (September 5),
after a short action. The frigate Essex, Captain Porter,
made a brilliant and successful cruice during the year
1813, and did great damage to the British commerce.
At length, however, she was attacked in March, 1814,
by the British ships Phoebe and Cherub, and after the
bloodiest fight of the war, the Essex was compelled to
Burrender. The sloop Peacock captured the British
brig Epervier off the coast of Florida (April, 1814).
The Wasp made a brilliant cruise, taking a number of
British vessels. The old Constitution, Captain Stewart,
engaged singly the British sloops-of-war Cyatie and
jljevant off the coast of Portugal, and captured both in
a remarkable night engagement, February 20. Th6
Hornet captured the British brig Penguin in March, off
the Cape of Good Hope, and in June, the Peacock closed
the long record of victories by taking the British ship
NatitUus. These last three actions took place after
n" "a'a peace had been concluded,
fn'il^icr. 1'''5. In the sumraci' of 1814. the Americans m.ide a
fresh attempt to invade Canada under General Brown,
with whom served Brigadier- General Winfield Scott.
They crossed the Niagara river and in four hard-fought
battles defeated the British at Chippewa (July 5), Lun-
dy's Lane (July 25), and Fort Erie (August 15 and Sep-
tember 17), but in spite of these successes, they could
not establish themselves in Canada, and retired across
the line before cold weather came. In March, 1814,
Napoleon was dethroned and sent to Elba, and the
European war being over, England was enabled to spare
more men for the war in America. Her policy was to
march two armies into the United States. One was to
descend from Canada by the route which Carleton and
Burgoyne had followed, and the other was to land at
New Orleans and move northward. To divert atten-
tion a fleet under Admiral Cockburn sailed up the Poto-
mac and attacked the capital. There was scarcely any Capture or
resistance, and the British wantonly destroyed public J^^^'^^^S"
buildings, books and papers (August, 1814). Nothing °'^'
was spared except the patent office and the jail. The
British them moved upon Baltimore. General Ross and
his troops were landed a few miles below the town, but
the Americans gallantly repulsed them. Then the fleets
bombarded the forts which protected Baltimore (Sep-
tember 12 and 13). Fort McHenry received the hottest
fire from the fleet. It was upon seeing the flag still fly-
ing from the fort, when the smoke cleared away, that
Francis S. Key wrote the national song, "The Star-
Spangled Banner." The fleet finally abandoned the at-
tempt and sailed away.
176. The British in Canada, having been reinforced
by the arrival of fresh troops from England, advanced
with an army of fourteen thousand men under Prevost,
to attack Plattsburg, on Lake Champlain, while a Brit-
ish squadron, under Captain Downie, sailed up the lake
to co-operate with him. The Americans, under General
Macomb, being only fifteen hundred strong, fell back
behind the Saranac, and there made a vigorous defense.
They had also a squadron of small vessels under Com-
modore Macdonough, and this was stationed at the en-
trance of Plattsburg bay. Captain Downie attacked
Macdonough (September 11, 1814), at the same time
that General Prevost attempted to force the passage of
the Saranac, but the British fleet was annihilated by Battle o.
Macdonough and Prevost, beaten at every point by Ma- Pla'tebnrg.
comb, retreated in disaster to Canada. But while this
attempt on New York proved a failure, the British suc-
ceeded in seizing the unoccupied wilds of Maine east of
the Penobscot river, and thus created a panic in New
England.
177. The expedition against Washington was de- The war in
signed chiefly as an insult; the expedition against New thceouth.
Orleans was for conquest. If the British could gain
this important position they would control the Missis-
sippi and the western country. In December, a British
army of 12,000 men under General Parkenham, landed
below New Orleans. General Jackson hastened to that
city with 6,000 militia to oppose him, and fortifled the
town as best he could. After a fortnight's siege the
British determined to assault the American works.
Early on the morning of January 8, 1815, they made
the attack. Jackson's men, trained to rifle shooting
and aided by artillery, met them with great coolness,
and in less than half an hour the British were in full
retreat, leaving Pakenham and 2,600 men behind
them, killed or wounded, while the American loss wa»
but 8 killed and 13 wounded. This battle also occured
after peace was declared.
178. Negotiations for peace had been begun in Au-
gust, 1814. The American government was anxious
for almost any honorable peace in preference to con-
tinuing the war with England. The latter country had
revoked the orders in council long before, but still
England's demands were such that they could not be
accepted with honor by the Federal government. The.
war feeling was thus continued among the republicans.
UNITED ST .V T E S
759
and some of their leaders began to meditate measures
which the strict constructionist principles of the party
would not justify. Propositions were made to intro-_
duce the English system of impressment of seamen,
and of allowing officers of the army to enlist minors
over eighteen years of age without the consent of their
parents or guardians. The Connecticut legislature
ordered the governor to resist the execution of these
and similar measures if they should become laws. In
view of these things, and provoked by the British in-
vasion of Maine, the legislature of Massachusetts had
invited the other New England states to send delegates
to Hartford, Connecticut, "to confer upon the subject
of their public grievances.'' Delegates from Massa-
chusetts, Connecticut and Rhode Island, and from
Tbc parts of Vermont and New Hampshire, met at Hart-
liartford {q^^ in December, 1814, to discuss the situation of af-
fairs and decide upon the proper course to be pursued.
Among other measures they recommended the adoption
of several amendments to the constitution, chiefly w:th
intent to restrict the powers of Congress over com-
merce, and to prevent naturaliied citizens from hold-
ing office. As there was much secrecy in its proceed-
ings a popular suspicion was aroused that a dissolution
of the union had been proposed, perhaps resolved
upon, in its meetings. This suspicion completed the
ruin of the Federalist party. Some years afterward
the journal of the convention was published in order
to justify its members, and to show that no treasonable
designs were officially proposed. It was then, how-
ever, too late to be of benefit to the party, for the pop-
ular opinion had become fixed.
Tre^'y of 179. The final negotiations for peace took place at
'" Ghent, in Belgium, the commissioners on the part of
the United States being John Quincy Adams, James
A. Bayard, Henry Clay, Jonathan Russell and Albert
Gallatin. The treaty was signed December 24, 1814,
and promptly ratified by both governments. It was
welcome to the administration, whose want of ex-
perience in the conduct of the war had involved the
country in great financial straits. The treaty left things
apparently just as they had been before the war.
Nothing was said about the right of search and im-
pressment of seamen, out of which the war arose, but
the United States had shown to the European nations
that she would not be insulted with impunity. The
British ceased to enforce their claims, and hence the
United States may be said to have succeeded in the
object of the contest. England withdrew her claims
to sovereignty. The nation was not only established
in its own domain, but it had equal rights with Eu-
rope on the broad seas. The last vestige of subjection
to the Old World disappeared when Decatur sailed
Al-'prine '°*° "^® harbor of Algiers in June, 1815. That country
wJr. had again declared war on the United States. Decatur
compelled the Dey to come on board his flag ship and
sign a treaty renouncing forever all demands against
Americans. The other Barbary States signed similar
treaties, and from that time on American coDunerce
became completely free.
Itowufail 180. The close of the war marks the final downfall
Federal "^ ^he federal party. From this period the few remain-
pariy. Ing Federalists ceased from any united party action.
There was but one party, whose principles consisted of
a combination of those which had characterized the
original Federal and Republican parties. The leading
principle of the Federal party, the establishment and
continuance of the Federal government, had been quietly
adopted by the Republicans, while the Republican prin-
ciple of limiting the duties and powers of the govern-
ment had been as quietly accepted by the Federalists
after the Republican party had come into power. In
the presidential election of 1816, the Federalist can-
didate, Rufus King, received only 34 electoral votes
against 1S7 for the Republican candidate. James Mon-
roe. His administration lasted from 1817 to 1825, for
in 1820 the Federalists put no candidate in the field,
and Monroe, being nominated for a second term, his
election was practically unanimous. His administra-
tion has been called the "Era of good feeling." Peo- Tliceni of
pie forgot the old quarrels in their joy at the end of r''"'' '"'"
the war and the revival of business. For a time the "
violent party feeling, which had flamed so high during
the European strife, had quieted down. New occasions
for political contest had not yet come. Congress oc-
cupied itself chiefly in the regulation of internal affairs.
Taxes were reduced, and a slight increase was made in
the tariff. The feeling was growing among the Re-
publicans that the tariff ought to be so arranged as to
afford protection to those manufactures which had
been developed in the United States during the war,
but were now suffering from a competition with the
cheaper goods which were imported from England.
But no action was taken on the subject.
181. As has been stated, the charter of the national Thenmion.
bank which had been granted during Washington's first ^ 'J'''''^-
administration, had exp-red in 1811, and the Repub-
licans, then in power, had refused tore-charter it. The
attempt to carry on the war by loans had resulted in
almost a state of bankruptcy. In April, 1816, a bUl
was passed, granting a charter for a national bank to
expire in 1836. It was modeled upon the one which
the Republicans had formerly opposed. The Repub-
lican newspapers warmly advocated the scheme, and
republished Hamilton's argument in favor of such a
bank, thus showing how far loose constructionist ideas
had spread in the Republican party. The bank was
organized with a capital of $35,000,000. four-fifths of
which might be in government stock. It was to have
custody of the government revenues, but the secretary
of the treasury was empowered to divert the revenues
to other custodians, giving his reasons for such actions
to Congress.
182. In 1817 hostilities broke out with the Seminole Tronhii- ia
and Creek Indians of Spanish Florida, Georgia, and ^'oridu.
Alabama; General Jackson, being sent to the scene of
disturbance, chastised the savages and destroj'ed their
villages. Jackson, with all his admirable qualities, was
not a cautious man. Satisfied that the Spaniards had
incited the Indians to make war, he invaded Florida
(April, 1818), and took possession of Spanish forts and
built a fort of his own. Then he seized Pensacola and
sent the Spanish troops and civil authorities to Havana.
Though Jackson's high-handed measures wjre not fully
sustained by Congress, yet, so popular was he, that
instead of being reproved by Congress, he was regarded
as a great hero worthy of warmest praise. Spain vigor-
ously protested against these proceedings as a gross
violation of neutrality, but she was too weak to offer
any effectual resistance. The matter was finally ar-
ranged by the purchase of Florida by the United States
for $5,000,000 (1819).
183. The growth of the nation was so rapid tha' for Growili nt
six years after the close of the war of 1812 a new state ''"' nauon.
was added each year. Indiana was added in 1816.
Mississippi in 1817, Illinois in 1818, Alabama in 1819,
Maine in 1820, and Missouri in 1821. The population
now numbered nearly ten millions ; the public revenue
had increased from five million dollars durin.^ the time
of Washington to twenty-five million dollars. Since
1790 the government had granted patents to its inven-
tors. A few had been granted prior to 1812. but after
that the number increased rapidly. In 1836 the patent
office was made a distinct bureau under the secretary
of state, and a commissioner of patents was appointed
at its head. The great coal and iron regions lying ia
the Appalachian range were now yielding their riches.
Charcoal was formerly used in smelting iron, but in
1820 the ironworkers of Pennsylvania began to make
experiments in mixing anvhracite coal with charcoal.
Wher it was found that anthracite coal could be used
alons the manufacture of iron received a new in peu:^
7U0
UNITED STATES
and increased rapidly. With a country so large, and
with a population spreading in «very direction, the
urgent demand of western settlers for some quicker and
easier mode of inter-communication and transportation
led to a variety of plans to accomplish the end. Private
companies and sometimes the state built roads and
canals. The greatest of these public works was the
Kric canal. Erie canal, which owed its execution chiefly to the
energetic governor of New York, De Witt Clinton. It
was begun in 1817, and opened for tralBc in 1825. It
extended across the state from Lake Erie to the Hud-
son, and was the largest canal in the world. When the
enterprise was first undertaken, and until its com-
pletion, it was called "Clinton's big ditch," but it was
one of the principal means by which the city of New
York became the chief commercial city of the new
world. This was before the locomotive had been per-
fected, so that steam railroads were not yet in
operation,
gleam- 184. In 1807, Robert Fulton had invented the steam-
hi-ats. boat. In 1811 a steamboat was launched on the Ohio
river at Pittsburg, and presently many like craft were
travelmg the western rivers, thus opening an easy
means of communication between distant points. Just
after the Erie canal was begun, a steamboat was built,
which was the first to navigate Lake Erie. The next
year the steamer Sacaiinah crossed the Atlantic, went
as far sls St. Petersburg snd returned. Six years later,
when the Erie canal was finished, the steamer Enter-
prise went from America to India by way of the Cape
Baiiroads. of Good Hope. In 1826 the first railroad in the United
States was opened from Milton to Quincy, in Mas-
sachusetts. It was only two miles long, and was used
for hauling granite, the cars being drawn by horses. In
1830 the first passenger railroad in America was opened,
the Baltimore and Ohio Railroad, which was fifteen
miles in length. The cars were at first drawn by horses,
but with next year a locomotive was used. The con-
struction of railroads now began in all directions, and
during the next twenty years nearly ten thousand of
miles were built. By the spplication of steam to in-
dustry, the discovery of large tracts of coal and iron
ore, the invention of labor-saving machines, the com-
. munication by steam and railroad, the means were
given to an energetic people for transforming the
wilderness of the southern half of North America into
a rich and prosperous country.
185. In its international relations the action of the
government had become strong, quiet, and self-
respecting. Mexico and the Spanish qolcnies of South
America had revolted against Spain and established
republics, and in 1822 President Monroe acknowledged
them as independent nations. During the revolt it
seemed likelv that the " Holy Alliance" of Austria,
Prussia, and Russia meant to assist Spain in bringing
her revolted colonies to obedience. Great Britain had
been gradually withdrawing her support from the
alliance, and Canning, the new British secretary,
determined to impress a check upon it by calling in
the weight of the American government. A hint was
given to the American minister, and in his annual
message to Congress, in 1823, Mr. Monroe declared
Monroe that "We could not view an interposition for op-
diicirine. pressing them (the South American states), or in con-
trolling in any other manner their destiny by any
European power, in any other light than as a mani-
festation of an unfriendly disposition towards the
United States." This statement announced the great
fact that " the American continents are not to be con-
sidered as subjects for future colonization by any
European power." This principle, so boldly declared,
became known as the " Monroe doctrine," and. having
the full sympathy of England, it proved effectual.
The attitude of the national mind implied in such a
declaration showed that our period of national weak-
ness had come to an end.
186. Before the Revolution all the colonies held negro Tiie slavery
slaves, but north of Maryland these slaves were few in ^y^'""'
number, and were soon emancipated in all the northern
•states except Delaware. In the early years of the
Republic many of the wisest men in the south were
desirous of getting rid of slavery. All but three of the
United States which made the confederation forbade
the importation of slaves. These three were North
Carolina, South Carolina, and Georgia; and they insisted,
when the consitution was formed, that the right to
import slaves should continue until 1808. At the close
of the eighteenth century there was a strong anti-slavery
feeling even in Virginia and North Carolina, and the
supposition generally prevailed that the slavery system
would gradually die out without causing any serious
political trouble. In two states only. South Carolina
and Georgia, was slavery looked upon with any marked
degree of favor, and this was owing to the fact that
these two states were mostly given to the cultivation of
rice and indigo, which seemed to make slave labor
indispensable. In 1783, the famous cotton-gin was The
invented by Eli Whitney, a Connecticut schoolmaster cottoD-iria,
living in Georgia. The construction of this machine
was so simple that the slaves could use it, and cotton
could be cleaned and prepared for market with great
rapidity. Hitherto very little cotton had been raised in
South Carolina and Georgia, but with the advent of the
cotton-gin, cotton-growing became a profitable industry,
and in consequence there was an increasing demand for
slaves. As the importation of slaves had been prohib-
ited by the constitution after 1808, the cotton-planters
could henceforth obtain slaves only by purchasing them
in such border states as Kentucky and Virginia. To
the tobacco- planters of these states, this seemed to
promise a source of great profit, and many of them
gave their attention to the raising of slaves for the
southern markets. Hence anti slavery sentiments were
soon extinguished among them. There was no likeli-
hood now that slavery would die a natural death. The
interests of the south seemed to be bound up in the
slavery system, and the way was prepared for uniting
all the slave states into a solid south, as opposed to
a solid north. The greatest danger to slavery had been
the growing conviction that it was wrong in principle
and that the nation ought not to permit it. But slavery
existed under the laws, and the states where it did not
exist were not at first disposed to interfere. They held
that slavery was purely an affair of the states in which
it was found. Besides, the northern States were now
engaged in a variety of enterprises, while the southern
States were still chiefly employed in the few agricultural
industries of tobacco, cotton, rice, and sugar. The
south thus looked to the north for clothing, tools,
much of their food, and all the luxuries of life. The
merchants of the north found a great market for their
goods in the south; their manufacturers, also, needed
cotton to keep their mills in motion. For these reasons,
chiefly, the relations between the two great sections in
regard to slavery had not been disturbed; but the time
was at hand when this question of slavery was to be
the paramount one in the whole republic.
187. In the northwest territory slavery was prohib- The 8l3v,.->;
ited by law; in all territories south of that domain it *'''''SS'>-
was permitted. There soon grew up a contest between
the free and the slave states for control of the govern-
ment, the south wishing to extend the area of slavery
by the admission of new .slave states, the north seeking
to confine the institution to the localitie v here it
already existed, while the abolitionists of the North
wished to put a stop to it altogether. Thus began the
"irrepressible conflict" between free and slave labor
which ended, after more than forty years, in the great
civil war. It was not until the Mississippi was
crossed, and settlements began to be made in the great
territory originally called Louisiana, which Jefferson
had added to the national domain, that the question
UNITED STATES
761
promise.
I
arose whether the states made from it were to be slave
states or free. The first discussion was over the admis-
sion of the territory of Missouri as a state. A kind of
compromise had been kept up from the beginning by
admitting a slave state and a free state by turns, so as
to counterbalance each other in Congress. Thus Ver-
mont had been counterbalanced by Kentucky, Tennes-
see by Ohio, Louisiana by Indiana. Mississippi by
Dlinois. In the same manner, the admission of Ala-
bama, in 1819, should have counterbalanced the admis-
sion of Maine in the following year; but, as Missouri
was also knocking at the door of Congress, the
southern members refused to admit Maine until it
should be agreed to admit Missouri as a slave state.
The Mis- 188. When Missouri applied for permission to enter
soon com- the sisterhood of states, and a bill was brought before
Droniise. Cougjegg (q (hat effect (1819). an amendment was
offered to the bill, forbidding slavery or involuntary
servitude in Missouii, except as a punishment for crime.
At once party lines were broken. The members from
the free states voted for the amendment, and the mem-
bers from the slave states against it. It was carried in
the house, but rejected by the senate, and the bill was
lost. At the next session of Congress, Missouri again
presented her plea for admission as a state, and Maine
made her first application for the same privilege. The
Maine bill passed without opposition in the house, but
by a sectional vote of that body slavery was again pro-
hibited in Missouri. In the senate, the Maine bill and
a Missouri bill permitting slavery were united, and then
passed by a sectional vote. As the case now stood,
both bills were compelled to stand or fall together,
and the responsibility of their acceptance or rejection
was thrown upon the house. The house held to its
first action, and rejected the combined bills as passed
by the senate. The difficulty was at length settled by
the famous Missouri Compromise of 1820, in which
each section gave up some of its demands, the house
by permitting slavery in Missouri, and the senate by
permitting Maine and Missouri to be voted upon separ-
ately. Thus Maine and Missouri were admitted into the
union, the latter as a slave state ; but it was agreed by
both branches of Congress that slavery should be pro-
hibited forever in all other territories north of the par-
allel of 36° 30\ which was the southern boundary of
Missouri.
Visit of 189. In 1824, Congress requested President Monroe
Ls Fayette, to invite La Fayette to visit the Ignited States as a guest
of the nation. The marquis, then sixty-seven years of
age, spent eleven months in a tour of the states, re-
ceiving everywhere the highes honors. His great for-
tune had been lost during the French Revolution, and
Congress voted him a present of a township of land and
two hundred thousand dollars in money. On the 17th
of June, 182.5. the fiftieth anniversary of the battle of
Bunker Hill, General La Fayette laid the corner-stone of
the Bunker Hill monument. There were present on
the occasion about forty of the survivors of the battle
and two hundred soldiers of the Revolution. A mem-
orable oration was delivered by Daniel Webster.
190. In the presidential election of 1824, there were no
recognized parties, and political issues were so obscure
that the contest turned chiefly upon the personal merits
of the candidates. The leading candidates were John
Quincy Adams, of Massachusetts, secretary of state,
William H. Crawford, of Georgia, secretary of the
treasury, Henry Clay, of Kentucky, speaker of the
house, and Andrew Jackson, a private citizen of Tenn-
essee. On account of the number of the candidates
and the character of the contest, the presidenta! cam-
Th^f.ruii paign of 1824 has been humorously styled the "Scrub
^jjp'^'^''^ race for the Presidency". All the candidates claimed
■ to be Republicans. Crawford and Jackson were repre-
sentatives of the strict constructionist principles, but
JacRson was not in favor with the Crawford faction on
account of his leaning toward a protective tariff. i,.t!am8
and Clay were loose constructionists, The personal
nature of the canvass is shown in the tendency of the
supporters of the different contestants to designate
themselves as "Jackson men" or "Adams men"
rather than by any real party title. John B. Calhoun,
of South Carolina, was generally supported for the
vice-presidency by the friends of all the other candi-
dates. In February, 1825, the electoral votes were
counted, and were found to be, for president, 99 for
Andrew Jackson, 84 for John Quincy Adams, 41 for
William H. Crawford, and 37 for Henry Clay, and for
vice-president, 182 for John C. Calhoun, and 78 for
various other persons. Calhoun was therefore declared
elected vice-president. Jackson had received the
greatest number of electoral votes for president, but no
one had a majority; and so the election went to the
house of representatives. As Clay stood fourth on the
list he was not eligible, and only three names were
open to choice in the house. The friends of Clay
therefore — unable to vote for him — united with the
friends of Adams and thus secured the election of the
latter. The feeling excited by this result liad a ten-
dency to widen the breach between the two divisions of
the Republican party, and before long they became
openly opposing parties.
191. From the beginning of Mr. Adam's administra- ''be.-^dams
tion, both factions of the defeated party united in an tio™""""*'
opposition to the president, which continued through
his whole term of office. Adams appointed Clay to the
leading position in his cabinet, and at once the charge
was made that Adams and Clay had formed a corrupt
bargain, in which the latter had agreed to cast his in-
fluence in favor of Adams, in return for which Clay
should receive the position of secretary of state, which
was then usually considered as the stepping-stone to
the presidency. This imputation was indignantly de-
nied by Clay, but the cry of "bargain and intrigue"
was kept up until Adams retired from the presidency
at the end of his four years of office. In the first year
of his administration, the South American states,
which had now become independent, proposed to hold The
a congress at Pauama, to consult upon matters of in- ^onKr^lj
terest common to the whole of America. They invited
the United States to send delegates. President Adams
accepted the invitation in behalf of the union. Con-
gress, however, after a stormy debate, refused to send
delegates. It was claimed that these South American
states had abolished slavery, that they were near
neighbors to the south, that they might include Cuba,
which was still a part of Spain, make the island inde-
pendent, and free the slaves there. The whole scheme
was fraught therefore with danger to the slave states.
and was rejected. The slave states were strong sup-
porters of the doctrine of state sovereignty. They
held that the states were independent of one another
and of the federal government, a doctrine which had
been held from the beginning of the union. The inde-
pendent power of the state was a safeguard against too
great a power in the central eovernment.
192. The first tariff act of 1789 involved the idea of P'-'^'i'^'ve
protection to home manufactures. The duties, however. '"""'•
ranged only from 71 to 10 per cent., averaging about 8|
per cent. The system, too. which was introduced by
Hamilton, seemed to be rather for political than
economic purposes. Up to the passage of the tariff
act, the laying of duties had been controlled by the
states. The possibility of secession among the statts
in which the state-rights feeling was strong, was a
feature that every statesman had to take into account.
Hamilton wished to establish the new Federal govern-
ment as firmly as possible, and his object in the tanlT
system seems to have been to create a class of manu-
facturers, running through all the states, but dependent
for prosperity on the Federal government and its tariff.
This would be a strong factor in support of the govcrn-
mei-t against any attempt at secession, or any tender.cy
7G'J
U1^^ITED STATES
to return to the old system of control by State legisla-
ture. The ■war of 1813 had made it difficult to obtain
manufactured goods from abroad, and many needed
articles had begun to be made in the United States.
After the war was over, American manufacturers wished
to continue their business, but as they could not com-
pete successfully with English manufactured goods, a
higher protective tariff was thought necessary. In
•Msm ^^^^ ^ tariff was instituted which imposed a duty of
about twenty-five per cent, on imported cotton and
woolen goods, and specific duties on iron imports. The
English manufacturers made far more cloth than could
could be used in England alone, and they sold it to
other countries. They could make the cloth better and
more cheaply than it could be made in the United States.
The people of the United States, therefore, would
prefer to buy it of England rather than of the American
manufacturers. Now England had established herself
in India, and received at first most of her cotton from
that country. She wished to favor her own merchants,
■who broijght the cotton from India, and therefore she
laid a tax upon the cotton from the southern states.
Then the south began to send her cotton to the north,
■where they oould sell it without paying duties, and
favored a heavy duty on all cotton goods brought from
England. By this means they thought, that Northern
manufacturers could make up their cotton into goods
■which would cost the buyers less than English goods of
the same kind. They reasoned thus; If the cotton has
to travel across the Atlantic, pay a tax there, be made
into cloth, cross the Atlantic again, and then pay a
heavy duty at the custom-house, it will cost the mer-
chant who buys it so much that he when he sells it he
must ask a higher price than for the cloth made perhaps
in the next town to him. So the customer will buy the
native cloth. This tariff on European goods, therefore,
was called a protective tariff, because it was intended
to protect the American planter and manufacturer. At
first the northern people did not favor it. Their
business was much more in ships than in mills;
and if the tariff prevented the importation of Euro-
pean goods, their vessels wotild Bot be of much
use.
193. There was nothing new in the principle of the
protective tariff. As has been shown, Hamilton had
urged it at the beginning of the government, and it
was the method used by many countries for the protec-
tion of their own industries. But the tariff of 1816 in
the United States came at a time when it had a marked
effect in the history of the people. If the United States
could manufacture its own goods from its own products,
and sell them to its own citizens, then one part of the
country would help another, and the whole union
would prosper together. Thus the tariff fell into its
place as one of the plans adopted by the country when
it settled down to the work of possessing the land and
improving it. But as time went on, the south, which
had at first favored a protected tarill to ensure the sale
of her cotton, now began to oppose any further increase
of duties on foreign goods. Thus in 1822, a proposition
for making the tariff more protective was defeated by
T«riff the southern section in Congress. The tariff of 1824
of is»4. ^as adopted by very small majorities. It was an
advance on all preceding tariffs in its consistent design
of excluding foreign competing goods from American
markets. It was passed by the northern members,
except those from the northeast, against the almost
unanimous vote of the southern members, who consid-
ered it unconstitutional, sectional, and unjust. In
1828, the Protectionists, as those who favored a high
protective tariff were now called, succeeded, after a
debate of six weeks, in passing another tariff bill
which was so protective as to be satisfactory to manu-
facturers but very objectional to the southern states,
whers it was pronounced a legalized robbery. From
this lime, the nullification doctrines of the Kentucky
resolutions of 1T99 began to gain strength rapidly in
the south.
194. In the presidential canvass of 1828, the two fac- w>igs and
tions of the great Republican party now assumed the i'*™'^'"'*-
character of two distinct and opposite parties. The
supporters of Jackson assumed the name of Democrats,
while the opposition, which favored the re-election of
Adams, were known at first as National Republicans.
But in the course of Jackson's administration, as they
saw fit to represent him as a kind of a tyrant like
George III, they assumed the name of Whigs; and
henceforth, until 1854, Whig and Democrat were the
names of the two great political parties in the United
States. Without entering into a detailed history of
these parties and their principles, it may be said in
general that the questions which have divided them
have been concerned with the powers of the national
government. The Whigs wished to give the Federal
government the power to use the public money in the
making of roads, improving rivers and harbors, etc.,
under the general head of Internal Improvements; the
Democrats claimed that these things ought to be done
by the states or by private enterprise. The Whigs es- Tbe
poused the policy of laying duties on imports as hiffh "-^mericAr
as revenue results would approve; within this limit the *'y^'*'^-
duties were to be defined for purposes of protection;
and the superabundant revenues were to be expended
on internal improvements. This was known as the
"American system." This policy was oppoied by the
Democrats, but not always intelligently. The Whigs
also favored the continuance of the national bank
which had been chartered in 1816. The Democrats
strongly opposed it, and on the question they achieved
a complete and decisive victory under President Tyler.
On the question of internal improvements, however,
the opposite still holds the ground, but most of its de-
tails have been settled by the great development of the
powers of private enterprise during the past si.tty
years, and it is not at present a leading question. The
question of the tariff, however, remains to-day as a
"burning question," but it is no longer argued on
grounds of constitutional law, but on grounds of polit-
ical economy.
195. In the presidential canvass of 1828 Jackson was Andrew
elected president, with John C. Calhoun as vice-presi- Jackson
dent, and on March 4 they were sworn into office. P''**'"!^"'-
The eight following years have been called "the reign
of Andrew Jackson," from the arbitrary methods which
he seemed to assume in regard to money affairs in his
administration. One of the greatest mistakes of the
president was the use of government offices as rewards
for his friends and- adherents. As early as the begin-
ning of the present century a vicious system was Origin of
growing up in New York and Pennsylvania. In those ths 'epoile
states the appointive offices came to be used as bribes '^* ^''^'
or as rewards for partisan services. By securing votes
for a successful candidate, a man with little in his
pocket and nothing particular to do, could obtain some
office with a comfortable salary. It would be given
him as a reward for political services, and some other
man, more competent than himself, would have to be
turned out in order to make room for him. A more
effective method of driving "good citizens" out of
politics could hardly have been devised. The result
was that the civil service of those states was seriously
damaged in qualitj', politics degenerated into a wild
scramble for office, salaries were paid to men who did
little or no public service in return, and thus the line
which separates taxation from robbery was often
crossed. About the same time the idea obtained that
there is something especially democratic, and therefore
meritorious, about "rotation in office." Government I'Roution
offices were regarded as plums at which everyone '° "^'c'?-"
ought to be allowed a chance to bite. The way was
prepared in 1820 by W. H. Crawford, of Georgia, who
succeeded in getting the law enacted which limits the
UNITED STATES
r63
Baok.
terms of office for postmasters, revenue collectors aad
other servants of the Federsil government to four
years. The importance of this measure was not under-
stood, -ind it excited very little discussion at the time.
After Jackson obtained the presidency the methods of
K ew York and Pennsylvania were applied on a national
scale. Jackson cherished the absurd belief that the
administration of his predecessor Adams had been
corrupt, and he accordingly turned men out of office
with a keen zest. During the forty years between
Washington's first inauguration and Jackson's the total
number of removals from office was seventy four, and
out of this number five were defaulters. During the
first year of Jackson's administration the number of
changes made in the civil service was said to be 2.000.
■*** . Such was the abrupt inauguration upon the broadest
i^'^^-^'^^g scale of the so-called "spoils system." Tne phrase
ti:i onal. originated with W. L. Marcy, of New York, who in a
speech in the senate in 1831 declared that "to the
victors belong the spoils." The author of the phrase
did not of course realize that he was making one of
the most infamous remarks recorded in history, and
Jackson doubtless would have been greatly surprised
could he have foreseen that he was introducing a
gigantic system of political knavery and corruption,
which would help sustain all manner of abominations,
from grasping monopolies and civic jobbery down to
political rum shops.
The United 196. Jaokson made another mistake which, however,
was trivial compared with the adoption of the spoils
system. He was bitterly opposed to the United States
bank because he believed that it was unauthorized by
the constitution and a means of political corruption.
As the charter was about to expire in 1836 he urged
Congress not to renew it. An angry controversy fol-
lowed. A bill renewing the charter passed in 1882, but
Jackson vetoed it. Subsequently he recommended
that the public money should be removed from the
bank, and when Congress refused to consent to this
measure he took the responsibility of ordering the
secretary of the treasury to remove it (1833), a measure
which, at first, was followed by great distress among
merchants. It was in this quarrel that the supporters
of the bank became known as Whigs, while the
partisans of the president kept the old name of Demo-
crats. The bank was finally closed in 1836 when its
charter expired.
inJtan 197. In 1832 hostilities with the Sac and Fox tribes
troiioles. of Indians broke out in what is now Wisconsin. Their
c'.iief. Black Hawk, was captured, and the Indians were
rf;moved bej'ond the Mississippi. Georgia wished to
get rid of the Creeks and Cherokees remaining within
the state; but they refused to go. The United States
had made treaties with them and these treaties ac-
knowledged the right of the Indians to the land which
they held. They were more civilized than the Indians
in general and had farms which they cultivated. A few
of their chiefs were persuaded to sign a new treaty
with Georgia, giving up their lands. The other In-
dians at once put them to death; they declared that
these chiefs had no authority to sign for the tribes, and
that in consequence there was no treaty. Georgia
wuuld not wait for the Indians to yield but ordered a
S'lrvey of their lands to be made for settlement by the
whites. It must be remembered that although the ter-
TJiiiry was within the boundaries of Georgia it was yet
di-^iinctly under the control of the Indians by agree-
TiM-nt with the United States. The federal government
was very desirous of getting the Indians out of Georgia,
and tried every means to persuade them to leave, and
accordingly in a tacit manner suffered the state to
crowd the Indians out. It was no less true that the
state was taking to itself a power which belonged to
ftie union. The wrangle over the Indians began in the
Administration of John Quincy Adams, and continued
^tc- Andrew Jackson was chosen president. Jackson
had no love for the Indians, having fought them all his
life, and he did not now interfere. Georgia had her own
way, and the doctrine of state sovereignty was more
firmly held than ever.
198. At this time the southern people felt themselves >'iii'ac»
to be Virginians, Carolinians, Georgians, rather than "'"'■
American citizens. They were brought up through
this feeling of undue loyalty to their native states to
have a secondary regard for the national union, and be-
cause possessed of an institution which they were anx-
ious to maintain, they were necessarily fearful of the in-
fluence of an entirely free government. Since slavery
could be sustained only by state law, in opposition to
the spirit of the age. the state must be made so sover-
eign as to be able to withstand all national interference.
To make sure of this result at the time now before us,
some of the prominent southerners met on a certain oc-
casion to try the temper of President Jackson by an
attempted defiance of ihe national authority. But the
indignant and determined response of the president
checked for a moment their designs, few men daring
any longer to follow to their ultimate conclusions the
teachings of the great southern leader, John C. Cal-
houn; and so, for nearly two years, but little opposition
was -openly undertaken. Calhoun, however, never
ceased his plotting; and in 1832, such had been the
progress of his plans, that he deemed himself strong
enough to cariy his state-rights doctrine triumphantly
through, in spite of the known hostility of the patriotic
Jackson. Congress, as will be remembered, had en-
acted a tariff of a mixed character, mainly for revenue,
but incident-.'ly protecting some of the manufacturing
interests of the northern states; and among the articles
thus proteci"ed were coarse woolen goods, which were
used in the south as clothing for its slaves. The price
of those articles was thus made a trifle higher than it
would have been without this protection; and the slave
holders, always a unit for the state-rights doctrine, had
to pay this higher price. The north was all the while
under the same tariff, paying an increased price for cot-
ton on every yard of imported cloth. This was not
considered by the south, and so in 1832, a state conven-
tion in South Carolina declared the tariff acts unconsti-
tutional, and therefore null and void, and resolved that
any attempt to collect the duties at any port in that
state should be resisted by force of arms. Preparations
were also made to t ake South Carolina out of the union.
"Nullification" was the name given to this act by which
the state declared certain laws of the general govern-
ment to have no force in her territory
199. The 1st of February, 1833, in case Congress did
not repeal its protective system prior to that date, was
fixed upon as the limit of the state's forbearance; for
after that day. South Carolina, in the event of the non-
compliance of the United States with her sovereign
pleasure, was to consider herself as forming no part of
the Federal union. All she desired, she said, if her
demands were refused, was "to be let alone," when
she would proceed to govern herself, according to the
alleged Jeffersonian doctrine, as an independent state.
The excitement was intense all over the union. Web-
ster was in the senate and General Jackson in the presi-
dential chair, and they worked together, though op-
posite in their party connections, like twin brothers, for
the salvation of their common eountry. Webster
pleaded for the union, claiming that the constitution
was not a "compactof states," but a "nation," created
by the whole people for their collective government
and benefit. In the course of controversy in the sen- web?ter
ate, he held his famous debate with Mr. Hayne, lasting and Bajne.
for several days, and presented the arguments against
the right of secession with an eloquence and force
never equalled in any discussion on that question.
President Jackson tirmly believed that the states should
manage their own affairs but he also held that when
Itws were passed in Congress for the whole country.
764
UNITED STATES
cjpecie
circnlar.
no one state had a right to refuse obedience to such
laws. He declared that "the Federal union must and
shall he preserved," and sent an armed fleet to Charles-
ton harbor, warning South Carolina at once that, if she
resisted, the whole force of the union would be used
against her. For a while it looked as if there would
be a resort to arms, but Clay, who was the leader of
the Protectionists, came forward and proposed a com-
promise by which the tariff was modified. South
Carolina had won her point. The doctrine of nullifica-
tion had not been put to the test of arms; but the doc-
trine of state sovereignty had established itself more
firmly at the south.
200. After the fall of the United States bank many
state banks had been formed, often with little capital,
to supply the expected need of paper money. These
banks issued notes which were largely used in the pur-
chase of public lands from the United States, and the
treasury was accumulating paper currency of doubtful
value. Soon after Congress had adjourned, the presi-
dent directed the secretary of the treasury to issue the
so-called specie circular, ordering the United States
agents to receive in future only gold and silver in pay-
ment for lands. The demand for specie at once became
pressing, and could only be met by the banks in which
the revenue was deposited. Other banks fell into dif-
ficulties which culminated in the great "panic of 1837.''
which took place under Martin Van Buren's admin-
istration. General .Jackson having served two terms,
Mariin Was succeeded by Mr. Van Buren, who became presi-
VanBnren dent on March 4, 1837. The administration of Mr.
president, y^n Buren (1837-41) was occupied chiefly with efforts
to remedy the commercial disasters of the nation. The
new president had taken Jackson's cabinet, and had
declared his purpose "to follow in the footsteps of his
illustrious predecessor." He, therefore, caught the
first full effects of the storm produced by Jackson's
financial policy, from which even Jackson's popularity
and admitted honesty would hardly have saved him.
A spirit of reckless speculation had been excited by
the excessive amount of paper money in circulation,
and property had acquired a fictitious value. Most of
the banks which were not lucky enough to have gov-
ernment deposits at command went down under the
specie circular of 1836. The "pet banks" which had
received the deposits of the public money, had used
them as loans to business men, and now, when a
sudden demand for those deposits was made, many of
these banks also were involved in the general ruin.
The panic The sudden calling in of these loans was the beginning
.. ,oo- ^^ ^1^.^ famous panic of 1837, the counterpart of which
had never before been seen in the United States. Early
in May the banks of New York city refused to pay
gold or silver for their notes, and the New York legisla-
ture authorized a suspension of specie payments
throughout the state for one year. This was followed
at once by the suspension of banks in other cities.
The president by proclamation (May 15) called an extra
session of Congress, to met September 4, and consider
and secure the financial interests of the government.
Meanwhile the panic continued during the summer of
1837, causing widespread ruin among banks, corpora-
tions and business men, and violently reducing nominal
fortunes to far less than their real value.
201. Finally, after some vicissitudes, the financial
difiiculties of the nation were satisfactorily adjusted by
the adoption of one phase of the National Bank ques-
Thrsuh- tion, that of the so-called sub-treasury system which
(rea?ory .^^ ultimately established in 1846, ana has been in force
ever since. By this system the public revenus are not
deposited in any bank, but are paid over on demand to
the treasury department by the collectors, who are re-
quired to give bonds for the proper discharge of their
duty. The establishment of this system was creditable
to Van Buren's administration, but the country was
not prosperous during his term of office, and he was
of 1837,
syetem.
defeated as a candidate for re-eiection (1840) after a re-
markably exciting canvas. The Whigs relying upon
the same kind of popular feeling which had elected
Jackson, again put in nomination the plain soldier,
Harrison, who had been Van Buren's opponent in the
preceding canvas, and who had lived in a log cabin and
had hard cider on bistable. In the famous "hard The 'hard
cider campaign" of 1840, Harrison won a sweeping "^1^ ^"'^
victory, obtaining 234 electoral votes to Van Buren's
60. John Tyler, of Virginia, a Democrat in politics,
was elected vice-president. The election of Tyler was
a political mistake on the part of the Whigs, for in one
month after his inauguration, President Harrison died,
and Tyler succeded to the presidency. Thus the
government had a Democratic head, and the Whigs
lost, in the main, the fruits of their victory.
202. Mr Tyler retained Harrison's cabinet, and prom- Tyln-s
ised to carry out his policy. In an extra session of tjo"""""*^
Congress beginning May 31, a bill to abolish the sub-
treasury of the previous administration was passed by
both houses, which now had a Whig majority, and
was signed by the president. Both houses then passed
a bill to incorporate the fiscal bank of the United
States. Many of the objectionable features of the old
United States bank had been discarded; but the measure
still met with great disfavor among the Democrats.
The bill was vetoed by the president. He stated as his
objection, that the powers given to the bank were such
as he and the majority of the people believed to be un-
wise and unconstitutional to grant. An effort was
made to pass the bill over the veto by a two-thirds
vote, but it failed. The Whig leaders then requested
the president to present them with an outline of a bill
which he would be willing to sign. After consultation
with the cabinet it was given, and passed by both
houses. The president vetoed this bill also. A two-
thirds vote could not be obtained to p iss it over the
veto. This action of the president in vetoing a bill
which had been drawn according to his own sugges-
tions, roused the indignation of of the Whigs who had
elected him, and all his cabinet resigned. Daniel
Webster, however, the secretary of state, retained
office long enough to finish a negotiation with Great
Britain for the settlement of a dispute regarding the
northwestern boundary.
203. The northwestern corner of North America down Oregoa.
to the parallel of 54° 40', now known as the territory of
Alaska, then belonged to Russia. The region known
as Oregon, which lay between Russian America and
California, was claimed by the United States on the
ground of the discoveries of Lewis and Clarke. After
the second war with England, when both countries
claimed this region, it was agreed in 1818 that they
should hold it jointly for ten years. The Hudson Bay
Company, which was fully equipped for the fur trade,
increased its stations. At the end of ten years it seemed
to have almost entire possession. In 1828 it was agreed
to continue the joint occupation until notice of its
termination should be given by one nation or the other.
When this agreement was renewed St. Louis was the
great center of the fur trade of the west. Expeditions
from that point into the disputed territory soon
became common. The hunters brought back word of
the fine farming and grazing lands which they had
seen, and parties of emigrants began to make settle-
ments in that direction. The Hudson Bay Company-
put every possible obstacle in the way of immigration,
as they had wished to keep the country for hunting and
trapping. They managed to create the impression io
the tlnited States that the Rocky Mountains could not
be crossed by wagons, and that the country on the other
side was a barren wilderness. In 1836, Dr. Marcus
Whitman was sent out with a company of mission aries.
to the Oregon Indians. He was a man of energy and fore-
sight. He saw that it was practicable for emigrant
trains to cross the mountains by good passes, ard he
i
UNITED STATES
knew that if he could make this generally known the
people of the United States would soon occupy the
country.
2tU. When Lord Ashburton came in 1842 to settle
with Mr. Webster the boundry line between the British
possessions and the United States, the Hudson Bay
Company had succeeded in keeping out almost all
American emigrants. They had laid their plans also
to bring in English settlers from the Red river country,
8o as to strengthen the British claim to all Oregon. As
soon as Dr. Whitman learned this, he set out in October
of that year, and made his way across the entire con-
tinent to Washington. There he found that a treaty
had been signed, but that Oregon had been left out of
consideration altogether. Dr. Whitman's errand was
to make known to the administration at Washington
the value of Oregon, and then to organize companies
of emigrants to settle within its bounds. He did both.
In the following summer he had a great body of set-
tlers over the mountains, and at the close of 1844 there
were three thousand Americans in Oregon. The
people were fast deciding the question of ownership.
Congress now took up the matter in earnest. The
American people claimed the whole western territory,
and the Democrats went into the nest presidential cam-
-FifiT-fonrpaign with the alternative war-crv " Fifty-four, forty,
fi"h* °' °^ fieht," meaning that the parallel of 54° 40' must be
■ ■ made the northern boundary. But the wiser men were
ready to compromise, and a treaty was made with
Great Britain in 1846, by which the forty-ninth parallel
was made the dividing line west of the Rocky
Mountains.
t>orr-s 205. In 1843 an affair known as "Dorr's Rebellion"
rebellion, occurred in Rhode Island. The state was still governed
under the old colonial charter, and a party led by
Thomas Dorr was anxious to exchange it for anew
constitution giving greater power to the people. Dorr
assumed to be governor by the votes of his partisans;
the lawful governor, under the charter, called for the
assistance of the United States, and civil war was im-
minent, when President Tyler sent troops into the
state to uphold the old government. Dorr was con-
victed of treason and sentenced to imprisonment for
life, but he was soon pardoned, and a more liberal con-
stitution was afterward adopted.
206. Calhoun was steadily teaching the southern
states that their safety lay in the doctrine of state sov-
ereignty, and the slaveholders were beginning to think
that the union was not worth much to them unless it
protected the slave sj'stem. Meanwhile, a very differ-
ent belief was becoming common in the north, which
Opposition was largely due to the influence of William Lloyd Car-
lo slavery, jison, of Massachusetts. He had established a weekly
paper in 1831, called The Liberator, which was devoted
to the entire and immediate abolition of African slavery
in America. Many others, men and women, came for-
ward to support him, and in 1833 the National Anti-
Slavery Society had been formed, and its branches had
multiplied rapidly. The renewal of the slavery ques-
tion alarmed the southern people and also many of the
northern people, who considered any attack upon slav-
ery dangerous to the peace of the union. From this
time dates the existence of the party opposed to slavery
The aboli- in the United States, at first known as abolitionists.
tionists. They did not, however, constitute a political party, but
as individuals kept up an incessant attack upon the
evil of slavery. 'They were persecuted in every way
possible, but every attempt to intimidate them only
gave a new opportunity for the discussion of the rights
and wrongs of the slave. The slaveholders and their
friends at the north declared that the abolitionists were
destroying the peace of the country, and charged them
with inciting the slaves to insurrection. Hence they
called upon all friends of the union to put them down.
»'ob Finally mob violence was resorted to in Boston and
\.olence. other northern cities to destroy abolition -rinting
presses, break up abolition meetings and silence aboli-
tion orators.
207. These lawless outrages only served to fire the Petitions t.
zeal of the abolitionists, and they began to offer peli- ^""Sres».
tions to Congress to abolish slavery in the District of
Columbia, while the dissemination of abolitionist books
and papers was greatly increased in every part of the
country. Congress in 1835 had resolved to lay all ftit-
ure petitions on the subject of slavery upon the table.
In 1836 the president's message to Congress made indig-
nant reference to the practice of sending abolition doc-
uments through the United States mail. He recom-
mended a bill to prohibit the practice in future. Ac-
cordingly, a bOl was introduced in Congress, prohibit-
ing any postmaster from knowingly putting any aboli-
tion documents or newspapers into the mails. The bill
was rejected. The right of petition has been a right
always held sacred by the people, and a champion for
this right appeared in John Quincy Adams, who had
been sent back to Washington as a representative from
his district in Massachusetts. He presented these peti-
tions again and again. The slavery party refused to
admit them, and in consequence multitudes of people
at the north were gained over to the anti-slavery side.
208. The political parties had not yet openly divided
on the question of slavery, but the opposition to the
Democratic party had become firmer, which resulted,
as has been shown, in the formation of the Whig party
(1836). Since Missouri had been admitted into the
union two other states had been formed, Arkansas in -■\rkaiija8
1836 and Michigan in 1837. Half of the states were g"n ""^'"
now free states and half slave. But in population the °
free states were rapidly gaining on the slave states.
In 1830 they exceeded them by over a million; in 1840
the excess was nearly two and a half millions. More-
over, after the admission of Arkansas, Florida was the
only territory which could be admitted as a slave state,
whereas the north had still a vast space westward at
its command. To southern statesmen it seemed likely
that the north would presently far exceed the south in
territory, population, wealth and political power and
would steadily gain a majority in the senate and the
house. It was, therefore, probable that before long the
north would come to control the action of Congress,
and might then try to abolish slavery. This the south
naturally dreaded, and this feeling of dread was inten-
sified and exasperated by the abolitionist agitation.
The only safeguard for the south seemed to be the ac-
quisition of fresh territory, and southern statesmen
looked for this to the great country of Texas, which
lay south of 36° 30', was suited to the institution of
slavery and was already occupied by many southerners.
309. Texas was originally a part of the Spanish .-^nnfxiitioii
province of Mexico. In 1821 Mexico revolted from °' Texas.
Spain, and formed a republic moulded after the United
States. Like other Spanish states in America it abol-
ished slavery. The south thus had for its neighbor a
free country hemming it in on the south and south-
west. Presidents John Quincy Adams and Jackson
each had made the attempt to buy Texas from Mexico,
but she had refused to sell. Meanwhile emigration
had set in from the southwestern states, and many
Americans had made their home in Texas. The most
noted of these was General Sam Houston, the leader
of an adventurous set of men. At his instigation
Texas rebelled against Mexican nile, and, in the de-
cisive battle of San Jacinto (1836). won her independ-
ence and set up a government of her own with Hous-
ton at the head. Texas then applied for admission to
the union. The importance of such an addition was
seen at once. Out of this vast territory five states
could be formed. If slave states they would greatly
strenghen the slavery party. The whigs, under Web-
ster and Clay, opposed annexation on the ground that
it would bring on a war with Mexico, which had not
acknowledged the independence of Texas. The ques-
7fi6
UNITED STATES
tion of annexation was hotly discussed in the presiden-
tial election of 1844. Van Buren, who had opposed
annexation, was rejected by the democratic party, and
James K. Polk, of Tennessee, who favored annexation,
was nominated. The whig candidate was Henry Clay;
and there was a third candidate, which decided the re-
sult of the election. The abolitionists had put forward
James Bimey as a presidential candidate in 1840, who
had received very few votes. They now nominated
him again. A close and bitter contest followed. The
democratic party was committed to the annexation of
Texas, although the demand for the tariff of 1842, and
for "the whole of Oregon or none, with or without
war with England" helped to gain votes. Xevertheless
the success of the Whigs seemed probable, until the
weakness of Clay's moral fibre ruined it. He wrote a
letter in which he tried to conciliate southern Demo
crats by saying that he would be "glad to see" the an-
nexation take place at some future time. By this
device he won no democratic votes, for Polk was a
warm advocate of annexation, but angered a great
many anti-slavery Whigs, who purposely threw away
on Bimey their votes, by which means New York was
carried for Polk, and he was elected president. It was
the most closely contested election in the history of the
United States, except those of 1800, 1876 and 1884. The
result in fourteen of the twenty-six states was doubtful
for some days, and most of these chose Polk electors
by very slender majorities. In several of them the
small abolition vote would have turned the scale and
chosen Clay electors. Thus Polk was elected, and. in
December, 1845, Texas was annexed by resolution of
Congress, and admitted into the union (December,
18451 with the understanding that it might be hereafter
divided, so as to make several slave states. Florida
had already been admitted as a state in March of the
same year. In spite of the strong opposition to the
annexation by the anti-slavery party there was a gen-
eral feeling of pride that the country had acquired so
large an addition to its domain. Politicians in favor
of annexation did their best to draw the popular mind
away from the question of slaverj-, and to hold out
splendid prospects of the rapidly increasing United
States. They began to aver that it was the "manifest
destiny" of the nation to possess the whole continent.
But the slavery question could not be held in abey-
ance. With the election of Polk the north and south
were finally arrayed in opposition to each other. The
policy of the Democratic party now began to be shaped
chiefly by the adherents of Calhoun, the representa-
tives of slavery and nullification, though the latter
political heresy was not likely to be pushed to the
front so long as the control of the federal government
was in their hands; but the slaverj- question became
the "burning question" from that time on untU it was
decided by the civil war.
The Ml si- 210. When Texas was annexed to the United States,
can war. Mexico was so occupied with intestine dissensions and
revolution that her exhibition of resentment was at first
confined to a formal protest, and the withdrawal of her
minister from Washington. No aggressive movement
was made by her even when the United States troops
under General Taylor occupied the east bank of the
Nueces river, a part of the state which Mexico insisted
had never belonged to Texas. In the meantime, in an-
ticipation of trouble, a naval expedition had been sent
by the American government to the gulf, December 31,
1845, and an act passed extending the United States
revenue system over the doubtful territory beyond the
Nueces river, to carrj' out which a revenue officer was
appointed to reside in the new district. Even then
Mexico did not institute hostilities, but expressed her
willingness to negotiate concerning the disputed terri-
tory between the Nueces and the Rio Grande. In March,
1846, General Taylor was ordered by the president to
advance from the S''"«oes to the Rio Grande, and oc-
cupy the debatable district. These measures, adopted
by the president, by which our troops crossed the
boundary claimed by Mexico, were considered by a
large portion of the people of the United States as im-
politic, if not unjust, and the occupation of a territory
by our troops, which at least was a subject of dispute,
was deemed by many a belligerent act. General
Ampudia so considered it, and notified the American
general to retire beyond the Nueces within twenty-four
hours. In April General Arista superseded Ampudia in
command, and communicated to Taylor that he con-
sidered hostilities commenced. Early iu May Arista,
with 6.000 Mexicans, crossed the Rio Grande, attacked
General Taylor with his force of 2,300 at Palo Alto, and
was badly defeated. The next day Taylor assumed the
offensive, attacked Arista at Resaca de la Palma, and
compelled him to retreat in haste across the Rio Giande.
211. The United States government, before it could 'War
hear of these actions, declared war againft Mexico * clared.
(May 13, 1846), and called for 50,000 volunteers. Mex-
ico likewise declared war against the United States for
interfering in her affairs with Texas. Soon after the
declaration of war. Colonel Stephen W. Kearney was
ordered to' lead an expedition into New Mexico for the Espi^itioi
purpose of separating that province from Mexico. Mexico"
Leaving Bents Fort, he followed what was known as
the Santa Fe trail, along the Arkansas river, across the
Colorado mountains to the Rio Grande, and down that
river to Santa Fe. Here he took possession of the coun-
try in the name of the United States, declaring New
Mexico a territory of the Union, and left a governor
and some troops. Then he set off for California, to
carry out the same design of separating a Mexican
province from tne Republic of Mexico and attaching it
to the United States. Before war was declared Captain
John C. Fremont was sent on an exploring expedition ^^^[fj^™'.!'"
to California. Some vessels of the navy also were sent
to the Pacific coast to be in readiness. The United
States had reason to think that England would make an
excuse of the Mexican troubles to set up a claim to
California. Fremont and his men, aided by ofllcers of
the navy with marines, made no delay when they
learned that war was in progress. They easily took
possession of one village after another. They expelled
the Mexican soldiers, and finally seized Monterey, the
capital of the province. There were a number of
American settlers there, who proceeded to declare the
independence of California and organize a government.
212. When Colonel Kearney left Santa Fe, he ordered ^^'JinoV'
Colonel Doniphan, with about a thousand volunteers,
to chastise the Navajo Indians. Having performed
this duty and compelled the savages to make a treaty
of peace, Doniphan marched a thousand miles to join
the army in Mexico. At Bracito, December 25, 1846,
he defeated a large force of Mexicans, and nearChihua-
hua, Feburary 28, gained a decided victory over an
army four times as large as his own. Finally he reached
General Wool, at Saltillo, May 22, after a march which
is considered as one of the most brilliant exploits of the
war.
213. In the meantime Taylor had conquered the
northern portion of Mexico; while Scott, landing at
Vera Cruz, advanced and captured the City of Mexico.
The United States soldiers were victorious over the
Mexicans wherever they came into conflict, and what-
soever the disparity of numbers, as instanced in
Doniphan's victorv; while at Buena Vista, February
22. 1847, Tavlor routed a Mexican army more than four
times greater than his own. To the student of history
the Mexican war will have great interest, as having
been the school in which most of our great generals,
who made their mark in the civil war, received their
practical training. The capture of the City of Mexico
(September 14, 1847), put an end to the war. A treaty
was entered into with Mexico, by which the Rio Grande
was made the southwestern boundary of the United
UJ^ITED STATES
767
fhe
Gadsdrn
purchase.
1 .11- Big-
low Papcf^
Tbe
Wilmot
Pro Vigo,
The
Free Soil
party.
Conven-
tions.
States, and Ihc Gila river the northern boundary of
Mexico. The United States paid Mexico $15,000,000
for the territory which was thus added to its domain,
exclusive of Texas. Five years later, the United States
bought the Mesilla valley, south of the Gila river, for
$10,000,000. General James Gadsden was the agent in
this purchase. By these two cessions Mexico trans-
ferred to the United States the country now comprised
in California, Arizona, Nevada, Utah, and parts of
Wyoming, Colorado, Kansas, and New Mexico.
314. This immense acquisiition of territory, though
a fortunate one in many respects, had an immediate ef-
fect upon American politics far more disturbing than
anything which had occurred since 1820. The general
sentiments of the anti-slavery party had been opposed
to the war, and these sentiments had been fully set
forth in a series of remarkable political poems entitled,
"The Biglow Papers," by James Russell Lowell. The
sectional strife which had been allayed for the time
being by the Missouri Compromise, now began to be
renewed. In the new territory acquired from Mexico,
slavery had been forbidden by the Mexican law, and
the north desired this prohibition kept in force, but the
south opposed the idea. It was proposed by some, as
the simplest solution or the difficulty, to prolong the
Jlissouri Compromise line from the Rocky mountains to
the Pacific, bu* neither party was willing to give up so
much to the other. The increased opposition to slavery
in the north had created an increased obstinacy in the
south, so it was rapidly becoming a difficult thing to
effect compromises between the two sections. In 1846,
David Wilmot, a Democratic member of the house,
from Pennsylvania, offered an addition to a bill, making
appropriations for the purchase of the Mexican terri-
tory. This addition was the celebrated "Wilmot Pro-
viso," applying to any newly acquired tenitory the
provision of the ordinance of 1787, ' ' that neither sla-
very nor involuntary servitude shall ever exist in any
part of said territory, except for crime, whereof the
party shall be first duly convicted." The Whigs and
northern Democrats united in favor of the proviso, and
it passed the house, but was sent to the senate too late to
be acted upon.
215. In the same year that peace was made with
Mexico (1848) came the presidential election. Several
efforts had been made to pass the Wilmot Proviso, but
without success, but it called into existence the Free
Soil party, formed by the union of anti-slavery Dem-
ocrats and Whigs with the Abolitionists. As a com-
promise between the advocates and opponents of the
extension of slavery, a bill had been passed by the
senate establishing territorial governmentc in Cregon,
New Mexico and California, with a provision that
all questions concerning slavery in those territories
should be referred to the United States supreme court
for decision. It was voted for by members from the
slave states, but lost in the house. A bill was then
passed in the house, by a sectional vote, to organize
the territory of Oregon, without slavery. This was
passed by the senate with an amendment declaring that
the Missouri Compromise Line extended to the Pacific
ocean. The amendment was rejected by the house,
again by a sectional vote, and, the senate withdrawing,
the biU passed.
216. The Whig National Convention met at Phila-
delphia, June 7, 1848, and nominated Zachary Taylor,
of Louisiana, and Millard Fillmore, of New York. No
platform was adopted, and resolutions affirming the
Wilmot Proviso as a party principle were repeatedly
voted down. The Democratic National Convention
met at Baltimore, May 22. It revived the stric* con-
structionist platform of 1840 and 1844, and nominated
Lewis Cass, of Michigan, and William O. Butler, of
Kentucky. The National Convention of Free Soilers
met at Buffalo, August 9. It adopted a platform de-
claring that Congress had no more power to make a
slave than to make a king, and that there should be no
more slave states and no more slave territories. It
nominated Martin Van Buren, of New York, and
Charles Francis Adams, of Massachusetts. The Free
Soilers decided the election by drawing the Democratic
vote from New York, and so Taylor became president.
He was brave, honest and shrewd, and by far the ablest
president between Jackson and Lincoln. Though a
Louisiana slaveholder, he was unflinching in his devo-
tion to the union.
217. The leading political struggle during Taylor's CAjifom,»
administration related chiefly to the admission of Cal-
ifornia as a state in the union. Texas was the last
slave state. The tide of emigration was moving
steadily westward and northwestward. In 1846 Iowa
was admitted into the union, and in 1848 Wisconsin.
While the representatives of the people in Congress
were struggling with the question of free or slave ter- •
ritory, the people themselves were rapidly increasing
the influence of the free states. In the year that Cal-
ifornia became the property of the United States (1848)
gold was discovered in the valley of the Sicramento,
and a very hasty exploration showed that there was aa
immense deposit of the precious metal in the newly
acquired territory. The news spread all over the
world and immediately there followed a great rush to
the gold region. In a little over a year the population
had become large enough to entitle it to admission to
the union, and there was need of a strong government
to keep in check the numerous hordes of ruffians who
had flocked in along with honest people. President
Taylor was eager to bring California into the union
before the question of slavery in that territory should
be discussed in Congress. He urged the people to call
a convention and organize a state. They did this
(1849), and since they were almost wholly from the
north, they framed a constitution prohibiting slavery,
and applied for admission. The south earnestly opposed
the admission of California as a free state, and the
extreme southern party even took some steps toward
secession. The debates were conducted on both sides
with great bitterness.
218. The controversy went on for a year, until it was
settled by a group of compromise measures devised by
Clay, who thirty years before had succeeded so well
with his Missouri Compromise. He proposed that ciay-s roi*.|
California should be admitted as a free state ; that any promista.
new states jKoperly formed from Texas should also be
admitted; that the territories of New Mexico and Utah
should be organized without the Wilmot Proviso (i. e.,
with squatter sovereignty, by which the people of
each tei ritory were left free to settle the question of
the existence of slavery for themselves); that the slave
trade should be abolished In the District of Columbia.
and especially that a more rigid fugitive slave law The
should be enacted. The constitution expressly gave to fugitive
slave-holders the right to recover their slaves if they ^'*'''* '"™
escaped into another state, but the increasing hostOity
of the people in the free states to the slavery system
made it extremely difficult for slave-holders to find and ,
recover runaway slaves when they had escaped into
the northern states. This matter was one of great
irritation to the southerners. They complained that they
were deprived of their rights in direct opposition to
the constitution. The new fugitive slave law wag
therefore so drawn as to require the arrest, by United
States officers, of fugitive slaves in the northern states,
and it also gave the officers the right to call upon any
citizen to help them in their search and capture. The
law also impossed penalties on all rescuers and denied
them a jury trial.
219. Webster gave his support to the Compromise of ECfect? of
1850. Like many others, he viewed with alarm the ''i*\£,'i?i'
growmg dissensions between the two sections of the
country. He worked with all his might to preserve
the Union against the attacks of th«i^ extreme pr
768
U^^ITED STATES
Personal
liberty
laws.
Fillmore
president.
Duvelop-
nientof the
country.
The
telegraph.
Gnvem-
ment ex-
peditions.
slavery men on the one hand and of the Abolitionists
on the other. California was admitted to the union,
and the fugitive slave law was passed. Instead of
bringing quiet, as the Missouri Compromise had done,
the Compromise of i850 was the beginning of a more
bitter and deadly strife. Perhaps the most important
feature of the Compromise, in its bearing upon future
events, was the fugitive slave law. The cruelties
altendmg its execution aroused 'the fierce indignation
of the north. The disgust and horror felt toward it
caused the passage, by some northern legislatures, of
"personal liberty laws," intended to protect free
negroes falsely alleged to be fugitive slaves. During
the discussion of Clay's Compromise Bill of 1850,
President Taylor died after a very short illness (July 9,
1850), and Vice-President Fillmore succeeded to the
vacant office. He enforced the Compromise Act im-
partially, but the fugitive slave law was often evaded
and sometimes forcibly resisted. It strengthened
the anti-slavery party in the free states, while the
agitation of the question of the morality and wisdom
of slavery was hotly resented at the south.
220. It was now the middle of the century, and the
union seemed full of prosperity. So various had the
interests of the people become that a new department
in the administration had been created (1849) called the
department of the interior, and comprised a number of
offices like the census office, patent office, land office,
and bureau of Indian affairs, all of which had for-
merly been scattered among the other departments. The
secretary of this department was made a member of
the cabinet. During Mr. Fillmore's administration
postage was reduced, so that an ordinary letter could
be sent to any place in the country for three cents.
Before that it had cost ten cents to send a letter from
Philadelphia to Boston. At once the number of letters
transmitted through the mails was wonderfully in-
creased. The extinction of Indian titles in northern
Michigan brought about the discovery of the great
copper mines of that region, whose existence had long
been suspected before it could be proved. Railroads
in the east were beginning to show something of a
connected system, and the increase of railways in the
west made it possible for the great farms to send grain
and other provisions to the city very cheaply. Rail-
roads in the south had hardly changed since 1840. In
1840 Samuel F. B. Morse, an American artist, had re-
ceived a patent for an electric telegraph apparatus, and
four years later he sent his first dispatch over the wires
from Baltimore to Washington. This practical proof
of the power of the telegra^jh was followed by a rapid
extension of lines in every direction.
221. Several expeditions were ordered by government
to gain a better knowledge of the national domain. In
1848, and again in 1852 and 1853, Captain John C.
Fremont was sent out with exploring parties to the
Rocky Mountains. The discoveries which he made,
and the new importance of California since the dis-
covery of gold there, induced the government to make
more careful surveys. The war department undertook
one to determine the most practicable and economical
route for a railroad from the Mississippi ri'^er to the
Pacific ocean. Captain Wilkes was sent to the Pacific
Ocean, where he explored the Antarctic continent; an
expedition under Lieutenant Lynch explored the valley
of 'the Jordan and the Dead Sea; and Commodore Perry
was sent with a fleet to Japan, a country which had
heretofore been almost unknown to Europe and to
America.
222. Between the east and the west railroads were
growing busier. Towns and cities sprang up along their
routes, and where a new and fertile district was found
the settlers did not rest until they had a railway for the
transportation of their produce; and very often the
railroad itself was the pioneer of a new territory,
being followed by the people who made claims along
its route. Ships and steamers were constantly crossing
the Atlantic. Improvements were made by American
shipbuilders in the construction of sailing vessels and
the clippers, as they were called, were built, which were
able to sail with a good wind almost as swiftly as
steamers. The increased development of wealth in the
country gave a fresh impetus to the spirit of invention. Inventions.
McCormick invented his reaping machine, and obtained
a patent for it in 1834. Its results have been hardly
less in importance to the United States than the inven-
tion of the locomotive. Since then agricultural machines
and implements have rapidly increased. It was agri-
cultural machines that made the western farms profit-
able, and enabled the railroads to fill the west so
rapidly with popuL. ion. Friction matches had come
into use, and anthracite coal was now extensively used
both in manufactures and locomotion. In 1839 Good-
year had devised his method of vulcanizing india-
rubber. In 1846 came the sewing machine, the power-
loom, and the use of ansesthetics in surgical practice.
The rotary printing press was invented in 1847.
323. During this rapid change in all the conditions of
life, it was not strange that there should be a cor-
responding change in the minds of men, and that their
ideas should become somewhat unsettled. Hence
transcendentalism in religion, literature and politics
began to flourish; visionary proposals of every kind
were made; new communities were established, and
new sects sprang up. In 1830 Joseph Smith had
declared that he had received a revelation from God
which was contained in a book called The Book of jj^^^ong
Mormon. He formed a society of men and women
who were his disciples, and called themselves Mormons,
and they made a settlement in Missouri. In 1838,
Smith, with his followers, was driven away to Nauvoo,
in Illinois. Ten years later. Smith was killed, and the
Mormons, under Brigham Young, removed beyond the
western frontier, and settled on the broad plain about
Great Salt Lake, in the new Territory of Utah. Their
missionaries traveled in the older states and in Europe,
making converts, and bringing them to the new Mor-
mon home. They offered to people who were dison-
tented, and to the hard-worked poor, a land of promise
and plenty. They appealed to religious people, and
declared that God was with them, as He had been with
the Jews of old. Salt Lake City was founded, and
became their capital. Since then, havingrapidly increased
in wealth and population, they have now become a dan-
gerous factor in the American system. Their peculiar
tenets, which consist mainly in their polygamy and
submission to their sacred hierarchy, have rendered it
impossible to admit them as a State into the Union,
while their numbers are so great that it is contrary to
American instincts to deprive them of the right of self-
government, and keep them under the power of Con-
gress. A solution of the vexing question may soon be
reached by the increasing enforcement of the United
States laws against polygamy.
224. About the middle of the century, the American Education
methods of education were greatly improved, and f^pjature
American literature began to attract the world's atten-
tion. There were publication societies formed by the
churches, which multiplied books, papers and tracts
without number, and these found their way to remote
villages and homes. Educational societies helped
establish schools and colleges in the thinly settled
parts of the country. There was a Colonization Society,
which tried to answer some of the difficult questions of
slavery by sending free blacks to Liberia, in Africa.
This was the time when the lyceum system became
popular. In the cities and towns courses of lectures
were instituted, and the latest thoughts in science, art,
literature, politics and philosophy, were given to the
people. The newspaper had become a national Insti- Ncwe-
tution, and was a familiar visitor to the great majority P 'P^"-
of families of the republic. There were daily papers
UNITED STATES
r69
aathors. .
I
rncle
Tom"?
CoDTen-
tion? of
in all the cities and towns, and in many papers the con-
tents of books were published, aside from the general
news and topics which interested the country. Amer-
ican authors were taking their place among the great
men of the ages in the realm of letters. Before 1830,
Bryant, Irving and Cooper, had become distinguished.
In 1&47, Edgar Allan Poe, the most imaginative of Amer-
ican poets, had died. In 1850, Washington Irving had
written all his works except his Life of Washington.
The poems by which William Cullen Bryant is best
known had been written and given to the world.
James Fenimore Cooper died the next year, leaving
behind him a long list of novels, the best of which
were descriptive of American life. Then came Long-
fellow, Whittier. Hawthorne, Holmes, Bancroft, Pres-
cott and Emerson. The Scarlet Letter had been given
to the public, which made Hawthorne famous. Long-
fellow had published Evangeline, and many of his
most popular poems. Whittier had become celebrated
as a poet; Oliver Wendell Holmes, as a poet and wit,
William Gilmore Simms, as a novelist: Ralph Waldo
Emerson had become known by his essays as one of
the great masters of English prose; James Russell
Lowell, poet and satirist, had issued his Biglow Papers,
which helped people to understand the meaning of the
Mexican war, while they laughed over the verses.
And besides these, there were many others who
assisted in raising the standard of American literature,
and making it a distinct voice of the nation.
235. All these things — churches, lyceums, public
meetings, societies, newspapers and books, had their
influence in shaping public opinion ; and as they
increased, more earnest grew the discussion of the
slavery question. About this time, when the adminis-
tration of Fillmore was coming to an end. a book was
brought out which had an enormous sale, and was
translated into aU the literary languages of the world.
This book was "Uncle Tom's Cabin," written by Mrs.
Harriet Beecher Stowe, and it was for the time more
widely read throughout the world than any other book.
It was a story claiming to show what negro slavery
really was, and what it meant in the lives of
men and women, white and black, in the Southern
States of the Union. The book was candidly written,
and in a wonderful spiiit of fairness, rather understat-
ing than exaggerating the evils of slavery, and its truths
were all the more convincing for that reason. Its
influence was doubtless verj- great in strengthening the
anti-slavery feeling at the north, and in finally extin-
guishing the disturbing evil of the country.
VIL — THE APPROACHING CONTLICT.
226. Jnne 1, 18-52. the Democratic National Conven-
tional met at Baltimore. Its platform included the
strict constructionist platforms of former conventions,
endorsed the Virginia and Kentucky resolutions of
1798, and pledged the Democratic party to a faithful
observance of the compromise of 1850, including the
Fugitive Slave Law, and denounced all agitatation of
the slavery question. It nominated Franklin Pierce, of
New Hampshire, and William R. King, of Alabama.
The Whig National Convention met June 16 at Balti-
more. In its platform it adopted its usual loose con-
structionist principles, though somewhat more cau-
tiously worded than formerly, and endorsed the
compromise of 1850 and the Fugitive Slave Law. It
nominated Winfield Scott, of Virginia, and William A.
Graham, of North Carolina. The Free Soil Democratic
Convention convened at Pittsburgh August 11. In its
platform it declared slavery to be a sm against God and
a crime against man, and denounced the compromise of
1850, and the two parties who supported it. It nomin-
ated John P. Hale, of New Hampshire, and George W.
Julian, of Indiana. Some of the Whigs, dissatisfied
with General Scott, wished to bring forward Daniel
Webster as an independent candidate, but Mr. Websiei
died in October of that year. Henry Clay had also
died in June of the same year. These two great
leaders of the Whig party were succeeded by such men
as Sumner, Seward and Chase, avowed enemies of
slavery. John C. Calhoun was also dead, and Jefferson
Davis, afterwards to play such an important part in
the nation's history, acquired the leadership of the
slave-holders of the south.
227. The slavery question was the principal issue in
the presidential election in November, 1852, and in the
contest the Whigs met with a crushing defeat, which
put an end to their party. When the electoral votes
were counted in February, 185.3, it was found that
Pierce and King had received 254, and Scott and Gra-
ham only 42. Mr. Pierce's administration (1853-57) was Kerce"?
chiefly occupied with the slavery dispute, in which he adniini^tra-
represented the policy of the southern party. He chose "°"'
William L. Marcy for secretary of state, James Guthrie
for secretary of the treasury, Jefferson Davis for secre-
tary of war, and Caleb Gushing for attorney -general.
:S8. The slave power was now at a loss what to do The slave
for new territory in which to extend itself. The north power,
had already a preponderance in the senate, consequent
upon the admission of California, and, from the rapid
growth of the northwestern states, in which New Eng-
land ideas and sentiments were becoming predominant,
the southern leaders recognized the fact that ere long
the north would hold the power in the house. Web-
ster had shown, in his memorable speech of March 7,
1850, that there was no more territory for slavery within
the limits of the union. What, then, were the south-
ern states to do? It seemed absolutely necessary at
once to get a new slave state to balance California, but
the available land south of 36° 30^ was already occu-
pied. New Mexico and the Indian Territory south of Ar-
kansas presented themselves, but the westward move-
ment of population along these lines would be far too
slow for their purpose.
229. Seeing no legitimate method to acquire terri-
tory, their former plan was repeated, if not by the
southern states themselves, certainly under the instiga-
tion of many of their citizens, and by members of the
state rights party of the south, and for their advantage;
for it was precisely at this period that William Walker,
of Tennessee, the notorious filibuster, undertook to Filibuster-
snatch Sonora for the south from Mexico, exactly as '"-•
his predecessors had done with Texas. But he failed.
In 1855, he and his band made the same experiment in
Nicaragua. Here, for a time, he was successful. He
overturned the lawful government, made himself pres-
ident, and almost made the state in readiness for slav-
ery and annexation to the federal government. But he
was subsequently driven out, after which he returned
home greatly disappointed and mortified. After two
more unsuccessful attempts on Nicaragua, he planned
his fifth and last expedition against Honduras. He
was encouraged and assisted by his southern friends;
mass meetings of his supporters were held even in New
York, and in many other northern cities; and the state
sovereignty party everywhere applauded his efforts to
revolutionize and wrong a state. But Walker failed
more fatally this time. He was defeated, captured and
shot.
230. Having been foiled in the attempt to gain a Cuba,
foothold in Central America, the slave power now
turned to another state as offering a solution of their
difliculties. The southern states wished to annex Cuba.
Mr. Pierce proposed to buy it, and at his suggestion a
conference was held at Ostend, in Belgium (1854) be-
tween the American ministers to Spain. England and
France, Messrs. Pierre Soule, James Buchanan and
John y. Mason to consider the question. A memoran-
dum drawn up by these gentlemen and submitted to
the president, is known as the Ostend Manifesto. It o*tend
declared that Cuba was necessary to the United States: "»°'f"^t"-
th»» it was the duty of this countryjo prevent the
770
U X I T E D S T A T E i6
emancipation of slaves in the island; and tbat if Spain
refused to sell Cuba, the United States would be justi-
fied in taking it from her by force. This declaration
caused great indignation in the north. Nothing, how-
ever, came of it.
''"'^li",,'"'"^'''* 231. Meanwhile, the tendencies to disunion were be-
lo isunion gQjjjjQg stronger. Texas, the last slave State ever ad-
mitted, had refused to be divided, hence the South
could hope for no further increase of numbers. After
1850, the political power had passed out of the hands
of the south. The free states now, by uniting, could
control both houses of Congress, elect the president
and vice-president, dictate the appointment of judges
and other federal officers, and make what laws they
pleased. Thus the interests of the south depended
upon the one question whether the frte states would
thus unite or not. Under circumstances so critical it
were better for the slave power that all questions call-
ing public attention to the question of slavery should
be avoided ; this, however, was simply impossible. The
numbers interested in its solution had become too great
to be silenced. It was the question of the hour, dis-
cussed in all ranks of society, breaking up party lines,
and even disorganizing ecclesiastical institutions. The
Protestant church organizations of the United States
had been greatly agitated by the irrepressible question,
and some of them became divided. In 1845, the Bap-
tist church separated into a northern and southern
branch, and the Methodist church shared the same fate
the following year. The Presbyterian church man-
aged to maintain its integrity until 1861, when it also
yielded to the pressure ; and the only churches retain-
ing their national character were the Episcopal and
Roman Catholic.
Kflnpas- 233. The southern leaders, strongly desirous of
^jbraska acquiring more territory in which to extend slavery,
now concocted a seemingly practicable scheme to get
control of that part of the country lying west of Mis-
souri and Iowa. This land lay to the north of 36° 30\
and according to the terms of the Missouri compromise,
was forever to be free soil. A plan was devised to
obtain if possible, the repeal of that celebrated com-
pact. With the aid of some of the northern members
of Congress this might be done. The scheme proved
successful so far as legislation could go. In December,
1853, a bill was introduced in the senate to organize
the territory of Nebraska. A southern senator at once
arose and demanded that the Missouri compromise
should not be so construed as to prohibit slavery within
the new territory. The bill was at once dropped. But
a sufficient number of free state Democrats soon ac-
quiesced in the southern demand to make it a success.
One week later a new bill was brought in, known as
the Kansas-Nebraska biU. It divided the region
covered by the previous Nebraska bill into two terri-
tories, one directly west of Missouri, and between the
parallels of 37° and 40°, to be called Kansas, and the
other north of this and between the parallels 40° and
43°, to be called Nebraska. Thus two states were
opened to the southern institution, instead of one, for
this new bill distinctly declared that the Missouri
Compromise had been swept away by the later com-
promise of 1850. President Pierce had pledged him-
self to the south, in his letter accepting his nomination,
to acknowledge and execute this latest bargain with
slavery, in case he should be elected.
Squatiir 233. The bill was enacted, but the position was now
cover- assumed, that Congress had no authority to vote slavery
* ' ^' in, or to vote it out of either of these territories, since it
belonged of natural right to their respective populations
to decide for themselves the character of their own in-
stitutions. This idea was known as that of squatter
sovereignty, and it was proclaimed in order to open
Kansas to an immediate slave immigration from Mis-
souri, while Nebraska might afterward be captured in
the same way from slaveholdiug Kansas. It was a
plausible doctrine, because it appealed to that strong
love of local self-government which has always been
one of the soundest political instincts of the American:
people. The plan was an astute one. It originated
with Stephen A. Douglass, a northern Democrat, and
laid bare the finest region of country which opened up for
settlement, as a battle-irround between the slave-labor
and the free-labor systems.
234. This act was the most palpable blunder ever
known in the history of American politics. Its practi-
cal result was to create a furious rivalry between north.
and south, as to which should first get settlers enougli
in Kansas to secure a majority of the popular vote. The;
issue, thus clearly defined, wrought a new division be-
tween political parlies. The southern Democrats and
southern Whigs united in favor of the Kansas-Nebraska
bill, while the northern Whigs and Free-Soilers united
against it. The division between the northern and
southern Whigs was final. The northern section at once
repudiated their old party name, and combining with all
the northern men who were opposed to the extension of
slavery took the name of anti-Nebraska men, and sue- ^"'t^'"
ceeded in electing a majority of the house of represen- "™
tatives. A new party had arisen in 1852, which was
now an important factor in American politics. It as-
sumed the form of a secret oath-bound organization, of
whose name, nature and objects, nothing was told, even
to its members until they had reached its higher de-
grees. Their consequent declaration that they knew
nothing about it gave the society its popular name of
"Know-Nothings," but it assumed the name of the
"American party." Its design was to oppose the influ- '•"'■^^I"^"'
ence of the Roman Catholic church, the easy naturali- '^"" ' '
zation of foreigners, and to aid the election of native-
born citizens to office. Its nominations were made by
secret conventions of delegates from the various lodges,
and its nominees were to be voted for by all its members
under penalty of expulsion in case of refusal. For a
time it was quite successful in state elections, and was.
now aiming at a greater extension of its influence. At
first it had intended to ignore the slavery question, but
after a few years of existence the complications arising
from the discussion of this subject affected its organi-
zation and resulted in its division.
235. The old Whig party disappeared about this
time. Some of its members joined the American
party, and the majority, including the old anti-
slaveiy men and Free Boilers, with many others,
united under the name of the Republican party. The Kepnb-
The name was at once recognized by the Democrats, ^*^''" v^J-
who, in contempt, called them " Black Republicans,"
because of their alleged fondness for negroes. The
Democratic party, which had been practically the only
party since 1852, had now to contend with a political
organization which adopted broad constructionist prin-
ciples, declared itself in favor of protective tariil, in-
ternal improvements and a national system of bank cur-
rency, and added to them the further principle that the
Federal government has the power to control slavery in
the territories. It affirmed, at first, that it had no de-
sign to interfere with the institution of slaverj' in the
states where it belonged, but simplj' intended to exclude
it from the territories. But with the enunciation of its
fundamental principles it was at once recognized as an
anti-slavery party, and the only one towhich the south-
ern slave could look with the faintest hope of aid in
throwing off the chains of bondage. The Democratic
party had quite thrown aside its original title — that of
Republican — but the name was still popular, and the
new party, by a skillful stroke of policy, took advantage
of this feeling and assumed the old name. Thus, in
1856, the two great parties, which were to figure so
largely for the next thirty years in the history of the
country, were arrayed against each other.
236. The attention of the whole country bad now j,"'^,*'™*.
been turned to the struggle provoked by Uie Kansas- KanM.
UNITED STATES
( i.
Nebraska bill, and the repeal of the Missouri Com-
promise. Kansas had been offered as a prize to be
contended for by free and slave states, and both had
accepted the contest. As in the case of California, it
was found a slow work to colonize the new territory,
even from Mi>soiiri, by permanent settlers, for the
people of that state had land enough of their own,
still unoccupied, to absorb for years their surplus
population. The only recourse, therefore, was to send
their worst inhabitants across the border, not to settle,
but to vote and fight for slavery. Consequently gangs
of "border ruffians" poured into Kansas from Slissouri
and Arkansas. But the free states were not behind in
a struggle. Anti-slavery societies subscribed money to
hasten immigration into the contested territory, and
people from the free states migrated thither in such
numbers that in a few months they constituted a de-
cided and lawful majority of the actual settlers. The
administration took alarm at the ill success of its own
plans. Many of the inhabitants of Missouri undertook
to impede the passage of northern emigrants through
their state, but the immigrants circumvented them by
winding their way around through the free state of
Iowa. In the meantime the government sent an army
to Kansas, professedly to keep the peace, but it would
seem in reality to compel the acceptance and establish-
ment of slavery. The first election of a delegate to
Congress took place November 29, 1854, and was carried
by organized bands from Missouri, who crossed the
border on election day, voted, and returned at once.
In the spring of 1855, the ruffians in this way voted to
organize a territorial legislature, and this measure was
carried in the same lawless manner. In July, 1855,
this legislature, all pro-slavery, met at Pawnee, and
adopted a state constitution. To save trouble, as well
as to secure at once the establishment of slavery, they
took a summary vote, adopting in their entirety the
laws of slaveholding Missouri. At the same time they
enacted a set of original statutes, which denounced
the penalty of death for nearly 50 different offences
against the institution of human bondage.
Frce-siate 237. To defend themselves against these illegal pro-
ceedings, the actual settlers held a free-state conven-
tion at Topeka, September 5, 1855, repudiating the
work of the , pro-slavery party; and on January 15, 1856,
they elected state officers under the lawful constitution.
Nine days afterwards, the state-rights president, in a
special message to Congress, endorsed the pro-slavery
legislature, and pronounced the attempt to form a free-
state government, without the approval of the Federal
authorities in the territory, to be an act of rebellion.
He then issued a proclamation warning all persons
against such acts of resistance to the lawful govern-
ment, and despatched another body of troops to enforce
the constitution of the border ruffians. The struggle
continued unabated. In the senate-chamber Charles
snranei Sumner had been stricken to the floor with a bludgeon
and Brooks and nearly murdered by Brooks, in the presence of
several southern and unresisting senators, for daring to
criticise these unjust and one-sided proceedings. Brooks
was expelled by northern votes, but /as immediately
returned by his southern constituents. In Kansas, the
free-state settlers refuse to recognize the territorial
government of the slave party, and as the pro-slavery
settlers and their allies would not render obedience to
the other government, the contest passed into a real
civil war, the two sides mustering considerable armies,
fighting battles, capturing towns, and paroling prison-
ers. Two free-state towns, Lawrence and Ossawat-
tomie, were sacked. The free-state legislature peace-
ably assembled at Topeka, and was dispersed by order
of the president. Many of its members were arrested
and imprisoned. Every free-state citizen's dwelling
had to be guarded and defended by armed force, and
no free-state man could plow or plant or gather in his
crops without fighting for his life.
irovern-
ment.
238. The free settlers still continued to maintain their
position, in spite of the persistence of slave party, with
the whole force of the administration at its back. Sev-
eral pro-slavery governors — Shannon, Geary and
Walker — were sent to represent the southern party,
and subdue the citizens to its purpose and control. A
second slave constitution, made at Lecompton, was of- Lecomptcj.
fered to the people in a tricky and nefarious manner, fj^lf"'"
It was to be voted for "with" or "without " slavery, but
in either case there would be an affirmation of the doc-
trine of states-rights. The free settlers accordingly re-
fused to vole. The constitution of necessity was adopted
and the new document sent to Washington, was ac-
cepted by the president and State-rights party. But
the measure failed to carry through the house. Another
territorial legislature was elected, and this body sent the
Lecompton constitution to the polls to be voted for, or
against, as a whole. It was defeated by a majority of six
thousand. In spite of this, however, the president, in a
special message, urgedupon Congress the Lecompton con-
stitution with its slavery features,declaringthat the new
legislature had no right to submit it to a second vote. But
he was not sustained. In July, 1859, the citizens of
Kansas met again in convention at Wyandotte, and
adopted a resolution forever excluding slavery. It re-
ceived a majority of four thousand at the polls.
239. In the heat of the Kansas struggle came the Preeidenriaj
presidential election of 1856. The Democrats nomi- ^J"',^'™
nated James Buchanan and John C. Breckenridge.
adopted the strict constructionist platform of former
conventions, and added to it an endorsement of the
Kansas-Nebraska bill and the principle of squatter
sovereignty. The Republicans nominated the western .
explorer, John C. Fremont, and declared the right and
duty of Congress to prohibit slavery in the territories,
thus planting themselves upon the ground of the Wil-
mot Proviso. The small remnant of Whigs, including
the Know-Kothings of the north and those southern
men who wished no further discussion of slavery, nomi-
nated Fillmore, and tried to turn attention away from
the great question at issue by protesting against the too
hasty naturalization of foreign-born citizens. Buchanan
received 174 electoral votes, Fremont 114 and Fillmore
8. The large Republican vote showed that the northern
people were at length 'awakened to the situation, and
the south in consequence was both astonished and
alarmed. For the first time in the history of the coun-
try a distinctively anti-slavery candidate had obtained
an electoral vole, and had nearly gained the presidency."
Though the Democratic party had been successful in
this election, its triumph was seen to be far less complete
than when it come out of the election of 18.52. It no-
longer controlled twenty-seven of the thirty-one states;
all the free states but five had cast their votes against
it, and its candidate no longer had a majority of the
popular vote, but was simply chosen by a majority of
the electoral vote.
The strongest section of the Union was in the hands
of its political opponent, through whose ranks a spirit
of earnest enthusiasm was being increasingly diffused.
240. The strength of the opposition manifested against
the Democratic party in this election, more than ever
convinced the south that the time was fast approach-
ing when political power would pass from those who
defended slavery to those who opposed it. Hence the
slave power gathered up its forces for the great struggle
which must inevitably ensue. It became more aggress-
ive than ever. It demanded a renewal of the African .\rric:m
slave trade, which had been forbidden since 1808, and eia^e-t'ac—
without waiting for the question to be settled, the ne-
farious traffic was opened on an extensive scale, with
but little attempt at concealment. During the year
1857. twenty-two vessels engaged in this business were
captured by the British fleet watching the African coast
and every vessel but one of these was American. By
1860 the trade had assumed large proportions, and was
772
U is I T E D STATES
openly advertised in the southern newspapers. But
this was not deemed sufficient. To insure the perpetua-
tion of the "peculiar institution," it was necessary to
enlist the active protection of the Federal government
in its favor. Squatter sovereignty had not served the
purpose, for in the Kansas struggle, despite all the ef-
forts made, slavery had been worsted. Squatter sover-
eignty was accordingly thrown aside, and a demand
made that the Federal government should protect slav-
ery ia all the territories. *
ScotiJe'^ 241. Up to this time the constitutionality of the
CIS on. Missouri Compromise had never been considered in the
supreme court. The question was brought to test in
a case which was decided in 1857, two days after i
Buchanan's inauguration. One Dred Scott, a slave !
who had been taken by his owner from Missouri into
free territory, and had therefore sued for his freedom,
was sold to a citizen of another state. Scott then
transferred his suit to the Federal courts, under the
power given them to try suits between citizens of dif-
ferent states, and the case came by appeal to the
supreme court. The decision was startling to the
north. It declared, in substance, that according to the
constitution, no slave, or the descendant of slaves,
could be a citizen of the United States; that slaves were
not persons, but property, and that slave-owners could
migrate from one part of the union to another and take
their negroes with them, just as they could take their
horses or an> other property. It, moreover, pro-
nounced the Missouri Compromise Act unconstitutional
and void, slaves being private property, with which
Congress had no right to interfere. And it further
declared that it was the duty of Congress, not to pro-
hibit, but to protect, slavery in the territories. The
mass of the northern people held the opposite of
Chief Justice Taney's decision. They claimed that
slaves were regarded by the constitution, not as prop-
erty, but as "persons held to service or labor'' by
-State laws; that Congress was constitutionally bound
to protect liberty as well as property; and that its duty
was to prohibit, not to protect, slavery in the terri-
tories. It was plain that the decision of the supreme
court would never be received as the law by the free
states. A storm of angry dissent arose, of which the
slave-holders hastened to take advantage. They main-
tained that the duty of Congress to protect slavery in
the territories had been confirmed by the highest
judicial authority in the land, and that the Republicans
had refused to accept its rulings; therefore, whatever
the result might be, the Republican party must accept
the responsibility. At this time, as will be seen, the
northern, or Douglass Democrats as they were called,
who had heretofore supported the south, now refused
to follow the southern lead any further, but chose
rather to divide the party.
Slave states 242. In 1860 the slave states were fifteen in number,
and free namely, Delaware, Maryland, Virginia, North Carolina,
states. Qouth Carolina, Georgia, Alabama, Kentucky, Tennes-
see, Louisiana, Mississippi, Arkansas (admitted 1836),
Florida (184.5), and Texas (1845). The free states
were eighteen, namely, Maine, New Hampshire, Ver-
mont, Massachusetts, Rhode Island, Connecticut, New
York, New Jersey, Pennsylvania, Ohio. Indiana, Illi-
nois, Michigan (admitted 1837), Iowa (1846), Wisconsin
(1848), California, Minnesota (1858), and Oregon (1859).
Kansas had adopted a free state constitution, but was
not admitted until 1861. At this period the population
of the United States was more than 31,()00,000, an
increase of over 8,000,000 in ten years. The population
of the slave states was 12,000,000, including 4,000,000
slaves and 2.50,000 free blacks; but the colored element
in the southern population could hardly be regarded as
a factor of strength, but rather as a possible source of
danger. No serious slave uprising had ever threatened
B^own'8 '^'^ south, but John Brown's raid and the alarm which
raid. it proluced in the southern states betokened a danger
which added a new terror to the chances of a civil war.
Brown, a Connecticut man of the old Puritan type,
had been an anti-slaver3' leader in the Kansas fights,
His plan was to raise an insurrection among the slaves
of Virginia, and arm them to liberate their people by
force. In October, 1859. he and his men surprised and
seized Harper's Ferry, where there was a large store of
muskets and ammunition; but the negroes did not rise,
and Brown was overpowered by national and state
troops, and hanged (December 2) by the authorities of
Virginia.
243. The next election for the presidency was looked
forward to as a critical time. Many persons of in-
fluence in the south declared that if the election should
strengthen the preponderance of the north, the slave
states would break up the union and form a confeder-
acy of their own. 'The Democratic national conven-
tion, which met at Charleston, S. C, April 23, 1860,
was characterized by its stormy session. The demands
of the southern extremists produced a political schism,
and the convention with the party was split into two The split in
distinct portions. The Douglas Democrats refused to "'y Uenio-
yield to the wishes of the slave power, and still main- ""^"^ P" ^
tained the principle that the question of slavery in
each territory should bedecided by its settlers; but they
made a concession by offering a resolution that the party
would abide by the decisions of the supreme court.
The southern delegates offered resolutions affirming the
doctrine of the Dred Scott decision, that neither con-
gress nor the temtorial legislatures had a right to pro-
hibit slavery in the territories. The convention adopted
the Douglas platform, whereupon the delegates from
many southern states, successively protested and with-
drew, and at once organized a new convention in
Charleston, adopted their platform, and adjourned to
meet again in Richmond. June 11. The original con-
vention, after balloting fifty-seven times for candidates
without a choice, adjourned to meet again at Baltimore,
June 18. Upon reassembling at the appointed time, it
seated some new delegates friendly to Douglas, where-
upon the remaining southern delegates, who chiefly be-
longed to the border states, also withdrew, and joined
their brethren at Richmond. Here they nominated
John C. Breckenridge and Joseph Lane for president
and vice-president. The remainder of the Baltimore
convention nominated Stephen A. Douglas and Herschel
V. Johnson. The Republican convention assembled at The Repui)-
Chicago, May 16. It adopted a somewhat broad con- lican con-
structionist platform; advocated the exclusion of slav- ™'^"'"'
ery from the territories by congressional measure; de-
clared in favor of a protective tariff, the homestead
bill, internal improvements, and a Pacific railway. It
nominated Abraham Lincoln and Hannibal Hamlin.
There was a fourth organization called "The Constituj Consii-
tional Union Party," composed of the fragments of unjo^partv-
the old Whig and Know-Nothing parties. It declared
as its political principles, "The constitution of the
country, the union of the states, and the enforcement
of the laws." Its candidates were John Bell and Ed-
ward Everett. Four parties were now in the field, and
only two had the courage of their convictions, the
southern Democrats and Republicans. The Bell party
had adopted a "take it as you please" platform; it sim-
ply evaded the slavery question altogether; while the
Douglas platform sought to throw the responsibility of
a decision concerning the question upon any shoulders
except those of the Douglas Democrats.
244. An exciting canvass now followed. The Re- Elertim,
publican party had been gaining confidence and en- of isei).
thusiasm, and the discordant efforts of the three par-
ties opposed to it, only made Lincoln's election more
certain. In the electoral college Lincoln obtained 180
votes, Breckinridge 72, Bell 39, and Douglas 12. No
candidate received a majority of the popular vote, Lin-
coln standing first and Douglas second. The popular
vote for Douglas, though large, was not so distributed
UITITED STATES
77^
Sece»a5on.
as to gain a majority in any state except Missouri; be-
side the nine electoral votes in that state, he obtained
three in New Jersey. Thus the election resulted in a
decisive victory for the Republicans. Its significance
was far reaching. The interests of the south and even
of slavery there would be safe enough under Lincoln,
but the overthrow of the Dred Scott and squatter sov-
ereignty doctrines was certain, and an immediate stop
would be put to the extension of slavery in the terri-
tories. In such circumstances the course of events was
evident. Nullification was no longer feared by the na-
tion. Secession on the part of a single state even, was
now almost out of the question. No one of the south-
em states would agree to secede unless assured of sup-
port by the others; a combined action was necessary to
assure the success of any secession plans.
245. During the discussion which preceded the elec-
tion, the north heard repeated threats from the south,
that if the Republican party were successful, the slave-
holding states would leave the union; but these threats
werelooked upon as merely the angry declarations of a few
heated politicians. Yet these disunion expressions were
sincere. The southern people had learned to look upon
the north 'as thoroughly hostile to the south. They
made little distinction between the Republican party
and the Abolitionists, and they felt instinctively that a
government elected in a spirit of opposition to slavery
would find many ways to injure it. The political hab-
its, and the way of life at the south, made it easy for
southern voters to believe in disunion as a cure for the
evils with which they felt they were threatened. The
doctrine of state independence had become familiar to
them; it had been laid down in the Kentucky and Vir-
ginia resolutions of 1798, and had been maintained by
Georgia in the difficulty with the Indians, and by South
Carolina in her Nullification Act. They had remained
"Planting States;" they still had their own social life:
the same families lived upon the same estates. There
was no such constant movement from one state to an-
other as at the north, nor any such introduction of im-
migrants from Europe. They were, as they have al-
ways had been. Carolinians or Virginians, rather than
Amerltans. South Carolina took the lead in fulfilling
the promise of secession. As soon as it was announced
that Mr. Lincoln was elected, her legislature ordered
(November 10, 1860.) the assembling of a convention in
December following. The senators from the state, and
all office holders in South Carolina under the Federal
government at once resigned. The convention met at
the appointed time, and on December 20, unanimously
passed an ordinance of secession declaring " that the
union now subsistingbetween South Carolina and the oth-
er states under the name of the United States of America
is hereby dissolved." As reasons for this course, tlie
convention referred to the nullification of the Fugitive
Slave Law by the personal-liberty bOls, and the election
of a president, "whose opinions and purposes were
hostile to slavery." The convention then took all the
necessary steps to put the state in readiness for war,
and adjourned. A copy of the ordinance was sent to
each of the slave states, and several of them now rap-
idly followed this bold lead. Similar ordinances were
passed by Mississippi. January 9. 1861 ; Florida, Janu-
ary 10; Alabama, January 11; Georgia, January 19;
Louisiana. January 26, and T<xas, February 1. Ten-
nessee, North Carolina, Arkansas and the border states
still refused to join their more southern neighbors. One
force, however, might be exerted which would compel
them to a decision. Should the Federal government
attempt to coerce the seceding states, a state which did
not wish to secede, but maintained the doctrine of state
sovereignty and the right of secession, would be inclined
to take up arms in its defence. Thus, in the following
spring.four more of the slave states reinforced the origi-
nal seven seceding states, making their final number
eleven.
246. The act of secession, at first, met with opposition
in the south, not from any sentiment that the act was
wrong, but from the expediency of its exercise. Dele-
gates had been elected to the state conventions who
were to vote against secession, but they were defeated
through the idea which had obtained that the state
"could make better terms out of the union than in it."
It was held that it would be more advantageous to their
rights and interests to withdraw temporarily from the
Federal government until proper guaranties for the ob-
servance of these should be given; and if all conditions
were satisfactory, then they might deem it best to re-
turn. In planning secession, the southern leaders rec-
ognized many things in favor of independence on wliich Kao^of "«
they supposed they might reasonably count. South.
To gain success, it was not necessary for them to con-
quer the north, or any part of it , but only to hold their own
frontier; whereas, should the north attempt coercion, it
would necessitate the military occupation, by its armies,
of the wholt vast area of the southern country, which
would be a tremenduous undertaking never attempted
before on a corresponding scale by anj' civilized govern-
ment. They did not believe the United States authori-
ties would really attempt such a measure. In this they
fatally erred. They believed that all the slave states
would join in the secession movement. This, however,
was not done. Then they hoped that the action of the
Republican administration would be so.paralj'zed by
Democratic opposition in the north, that its eflforts at
coercion would be rendered futile. In this they were
doomed to disappointment; for when war came, the
great majority of the northern Democrats loyally sup-
ported the government; while those, nicknamed "Cop-
perheads," who endeavored to impede its efforts, were
too small in number to do any serious harm. Finally,
they thought they might look for aid from England and
France. "Cotton isking," was the cry, and while the
English manufacturers were dependent for their cotton
from the south, it would scarcely be possible that the^
English government would allow the southern coasts to>
be blockaded. But the sentiment of the great majority
of England's working people was found to be in favor
of the north. The great mass of the English people, io
spite of many aristocratic sympathizers with the south,
felt that the action of Great Britain in the African slave
trade question, would not permit her, without the most .
glaring inconsistency, to give support to the principal
slave power in the world. With respect to France the
case was just as hopeless. Napoleon III, it is true, was
desirous of recognizing the independence of the south,
for he had designs upon Mexico incompatible with the
Monroe doctrine, but he was unwilling to make the
move without the concurrence of England, and this he
could not obtain. Thus the southern leaders failed in
their expectations, and were thrown upon their own
resources.
247. In February, 1861, a convention of delegates Orsai .zi-
from the seceding states met at Montgomery, thecap- tion ci tis*
ital of Alabama, and formed a government under the '^°'>''^'-"
name of the Confederate States of America. The title ^'^'^^"
thus declared that the states formed a confederacy and
not a union The government was a provisional one
for a year, since only seven of the southern states were
represented. Jefferson Davis, of Mississippi, was
chosen president and Alexander H. Stevens, of Georgia,
vice-president. A provisional constitution was formed,
and an army, treasury, and other executive departments
estiblished. The pe'Tnanent constitution, adopted in
March, was copied from that of the United States, ex-
cept that it made careful provision for slavery, and fir-
bade a protective tariff or the maintenance of intern^,
improvements at general expense. The seceding sts-.tf
at once took measures to take possession of the arsenais,
forts and other property of the United States within
their borders. Mr. Buchanan's secretary of war was-
John B. Floyd, of Virginia, a zealous secessionist, and
774
UNITED t^ T A T E b
"by his orders an immense quantity of muskets, cannon,
ammunition, and other warlike stores had been trans-
ferred from northern to southera arsenals. All this fell
intd the hands of the secession party. The army was
scattered at remote posts where it could be of no use,
and most of the navy was at foreign stations. General
Scott urged President Buchanan to strengthen the gar-
risons of the southern forts, but Mr. Floyd protested,
and nothing in that direction was done.
248. The forts throughout the south were mainly in
the hands of southern men, who delivered them to the
new authorities. The commanders of Fort Pickens, at
Pensacola, and of the forts at Key West and Tortugas
Tefused to give them up. The greatest interest, how-
ever, attacht'd to the forts within the borders of South
Carolina. The harbor of Charleston was commanded
by Forts Sumter and Moultrie and Castle Pinckne}'.
Fort Sumter was not yet tinished. and the garrison,
under Major Anderson, was occupying Fort Moultrie, a
"weaker work. This officer secretly transferred his men
and supplies to Fort Sumter during the night of De-
cember 26, 1860. South Carolina demanded the evacu-
ation of the fort. President Buchanan refused the de-
idiiToithe mand, and sent the steamer Star of the TTcs^ with sup-
V'"st. plies and reinforcements for the fort. He intended the
expedition to be a secret one, but it was known at once
in Charleston, and when the steamer appeared it was
fired upon ahd driven back (Januaiy 9, 1861). The
South Carolinians had taken possession of the other
forts in Charleston harbor, and now erected additional
works. General P. G. T. Beauregard was placed in
command of the harbor defences. President Buchanan
was tilled with perplexity. In his message to Congress
he stated his inability to execute the laws in the seced-
ing states, but Congress gave him no help. He con-
demned the doctrine of secession, and denied the right
of the states to secede; he also denied the right of the
government to coerce them when they did secede. His
cabinet was divided. The southern members dropped
out as their states seceded, and General Cass, of Michi-
gan, secretary of state, resigned in displeasure at Mr.
Buchanan's inaction.
349. The resignation of the southern senators and
representatives gave the Republicans a majority in
Congress. That body now proceeded to admit Kansas
as a state, and passed a protective tariff designed to
encourage manufactures. Otherwise Congress did
nothing but pass resolutions intended to pacify the
south. Time which should have been spent in concen-
trating the energies of the Federal government, and pre-
paring it to assert its supremacy, was frittered away in
vain discussions about measures proposed to avert the
disaster. Mr. Seward, senator from New York, and
one of the most conspicuous of the Republicans, was
willing to give up congressional prohibition of slavery
in the territories, to enforce the fugitive slave law,
and to perpetuate slavery by a constitutional amend-
Tbe popu- ment. The people throughout the country were in a
."ijkr feeiiug. state of bewilderment. The government authorities
seemed to have no power to diiect affairs. Great
meetings were held in the principal cities of the north
denouncing abolitionism and urging extreme conces-
sions. Prominent journals of both parties declared
that armed coercion was madness and never would be
permitted. At the suggestion of the Virginia legisla-
ture, a peace congress, composed of delegates from
thirteen free states and seven border states, met at
Washington (February 4, 1861), and tried to bring
about harmony between the sections, by proposing a
number of amendments to the constitution. Nothing
came, however, of any of these schemes. Disunion
was now an assured fact, and was soon to pass into
open hostility. It was during this state of affairs that
the new administration of Abraham Lincoln entered
jipon its perplexing duties.
culniitled.
'jPeace
C onjjrcss.
Vni. — THE CIVIL WAR.
350. Mr. Lincoln was inaugurated March 4, 1861. In
his address he declared that he had neither the righi
nor the desire to interfere with slavery where it already
existed; that no state could lawfully go out of the union;
and that he should maintain the laws and constitution
of the United States to the best of his ability. The new
administration was beset with ditHculties on every
side, and the condition of affairs seemed almost des-
perate. Many of those who for years had guided the
"ship of state," and who understood its workings,
were now foremost in advocating secession. Mr. Lin-
coln's officers were new to the business of the Federal
government. The treasury, by defalcation, was nearly
banknipt. Few troops were within call; and the army
had been almost broken up by the surrender of
detached forces in the Confederate states, and the cap-
ture of munitions of war. The vessels of the navy were
sailing or at anchor in distant waters, and numerous
officers of both the army end the navy were resigning
their commissions on the ground that they owed
allegiance first to the states from which they came.
Seven states had already revolted, and otliers were
ready to swell the number upon the first attempt to
enforce the Federal authority. The public officers
were largely occupied by persons in sympathy with
the secession movement, and every step taken by the
new government was known at once to the leaders of
the Confederacy, und to crown all, Mr. Lincoln was
beset by a vast horde of office-seekers eager to take
advantage of the change of administration.
251. The president waited a month and then notified
Governor Pickens, of South Carolina, that he should
send supplies to Fort Sumter at all hazards. This
announcement precipitated an attack upon the fort.
Major Anderson was first summoned to surrender, but
he refused. At daybreak on the morning of April 13,
1861, the Confederacy began its open conflict with the
United States. All the batteries around the fort opened
fire upon it; the fo^l replied, and the bombardment
continued for thirty- six hours without loss of life on
either side. The ammunition in the fort was then
exhausted, and the works inside were on fire. There-
upon the United States flag, for the first time in its
history, was lowered to insurgent citizens, and the
garrison capitulated. This event aroused the north as
if from a trance. Uitil now, the mass of the people
had refused to believe in real danger; but the first
shock of arms thoroughly convinced them that the
south was ready to fight, and could not be curbed
without war. It did more than this. In the northern
states party distinctions were for a time swept aside;
there was but one party worth the name — the party for
the union. The southern states were no longer
"erring sisters "to be coaxed by concessions. The
whole north called loudly for the full exercise of the
Federal power to compel the south to obedience at the
point of the bayonet.
353. The day after the evacuation of Fort Sumter
President Lincoln called for 75,000 volunteers for three
months (April 15). The response was so promptly
made that the first Massachusetts troops began their
march on the same day, and in a surprisingly short
time the quota was full; nay, It could have been filled
three or four times over, and the many who were
refused felt a keen disappointment at not being allowed
to bear arms in defense of the union. In the south,
also, the effect of the first conflict was correspondingly
great. To the ignorant masses it did not seem possible
that any other power could be superior to that of
their own state; while the more intelligent classes had,
from their childhood, imbibed the doctrine that state
sovereignty was the foundation of civil liberty. Hence
all felt bound to follow the leadof theirstate; and when
Lincoln's
ii;auL'u:a-
Fort
Smuter
Effect in
the north.
First call
for volun-
teers.
The feeling
in Ihf
sontn.
U KITED STATES
the president of the new Confederacy issued his call
for men, it was answered, as in the north, by overflow-
ing numbers.
^^|^^<^*' . 253. Those southern states which had wavered were
now compelled to make their choice. When Mr. Lincoln
called for troops the Governors of Arkansas, Virginia,
North Carolina and Tennessee refused to obey. North
Carolina and Arkansas then seceded, and joined the
Confederacy. In Tennessee and Virginia "military
leagues" were formed with the Confederate states, by
■which Confederate troops were allowed to take pos-
session of their territory, and by their aid the ques-
tion of secession was submitted to popular vote.
Thus the secession of these two states was accom-
plished in part, but not wholly. The people of the
Alleghany mountains were loyal to the union; in east-
«m Tennessee they aided the Federals as much as
possible; the opposition to secession was so stiong in
the western counties of Virginia that the inhabitants
refused to obey the convention which passed the ordi-
nance; they chose a legislature which claimed to be the
true government, and at last formed a new state which
was admitted into the union in 1863 under the name of
West Virginia. Even thus curtailed, Virginia was a
most important accession to the confederacy: it in-
creased its military strength greatly, and at once
became the chief battle-ground of the war. The con-
:federate government was moved from Montgomery to
Uichmond; and since Washington was separated only
by the Potomac from the confederacy, it was clear that
the great contest would be fought in the country which
lay between the two capitals. Moreover, Virginia was
the richest and greatest of the slave states, and fur-
nished the southern army with its ablest leaders, many
■of whom — such as Lee, Jackson, Johnston, and Ewell —
"were opposed to secession, but thought it right to shape
their own course by that of their state.
254. There was a strong anti-union element in Mis-
souri, Kentucky, Maryland, and Delaware, and the
most momentous results^involving, doubtless, the suc-
cess of the union cause — were involved in the action
they would now take. Aside from Virginia, Missouri
■was the most powerful slave state, and her geograph-
ical position, with that of Kentucky and Maryland, was
of incalculable military importance. Had these three
states united with the confederacy it might have won
-the prize for which it was contending — independence.
3Iissouri, however, did not break away, though the
issue was for some time doubtful with her. Delaware
cast her lot with the union. In Maryland and Ken-
tucky efforts were made to maintain neutrality, but
they were soon induced to declare in favor of the
Federal government. Kentucky, however, had some
rfif her sons in the southern ranks, among whom was
John C. Breckinridge, a former vice-president of the
United states, who became an officer in the confeder-
ate army.
Mfii'-irr 255. The Federal government was in no want of
oflh*'"" men, but the alction of Secretary Floyd h»d almost
'^rth. stripped it of arms to equip them. Agents were sent
abroad to purchase guns, private manufactories were
•worked day and night to produce them, and in a short
time the administration was able to call more men into
the field. The northern people were unmilitary in
their habite and thoughts. They had a militia, but it
^pas poorly organized. The Mexican war had drawn
few volunteers from this section, and the United States
army was very small and imperfectly equipped. The
«arly action of the Confederates also had weakened it.
There was, however, a greater population to draw from
than at the south. There was also a wider range of
industry to supply the necessary funds to carry on the
-war. The agricultural products of the United States
•far exceeded in volume those of any other country, and
in merchant shippin? it was only second to Great
iJrit:iiu. Between 1830 and 1860 American civilization
had shown a wonderful growth in all directions — in
facilities of travel and exchange, in home comforts, in
manufactures, in literature and art, and especially in
the development and building up of that moral sense
which enabled the country to pass so successfully
through the trying times of the next four years.
256. But this material and moral progress was mostly Of the
confined to the north. The south was far from possess- *<""•>•
ing an equal share in it. Her case was one of arrested
developement, not from any natural inferiority in the •
people, but simply because their moral sense and spirit
of enterprise had been blighted by the curse of slavery.
Labor was held to be degrading, and those who carried
on the few branches of industry were considered an
inferior caste; railroads, commerce and manufactures
could not thrive, and hence there was but little immigra-
tion; the progressive ideas from the modem world
outside were opposed from the fear that they might
prove injurious to the pet institution of slavery. Thus
the advance of civilization was checked, and whatever
might have conduced to the material welfare of the
south was kept away as far as possible. In the north
the rising man was marked by the extent of his business
relations; in the south by his ability to buy slaves,
which assured him nearly always an "entrance" into the
the ranks of the dominant class. This class furnished
the representatives and senators in Congress, the
governors, and all the otHceliolders over which the slave
power had control. Thus its ablest and best men com-
bined to defend certain tendencies which were foreign
and hostile to those of the rest of the country, and of the
world in general. With such odds against it," the struggle
of the south during the four years of war showed of
what heroic stuff its people were made.
257. The first blood of the war was shed in the streets First blood
of Baltimore. Massachusetts and Pennsylvania troops °' ""^ ""-
on their way to Washington were attacked by a Balti-
more mob (April 19. 1861,) and some of the soldiers
killed. The populace, which sympathized with the
south, declared that no northern troops should pass
through the city. The railroad was blocked up, bridges
were burned, telegraph wires were cut, and all direct
communication with the north was stopped, until the
president sent a military force from Annapolis to occupy
Baltimore and keep the road open. In a short time the
active hostility of the people was overcome, and the
national capitol made secure. By July 4 the confeder-
ates had pushed their forces as far as Manassas Junction,
about thirty miles from Washington. Their line of
defence was already marked out. and its length has
been estimated at eleven thotisand miles, including the
Atlantic and gulf coasts. It comprised the left bank of
the Potomac from Fortress Monroe nearly to Washing-
ington; from thence it extended to Harper's Ferry, on
through the mountains of western Virginia and the
southern part of Kentucky, crossing the Mississippi a
short distance below Cairo. From this point its direc-
tion was through southern Missouri to the eastern
border of Kansas; then southwest, through the Indian
territory, and along the northern boundary of Texas
to the Rio Grande. The area contained •within this
interior line and the sea-coast was about 800,000 square
miles, with a population of over 9.000.000. It com-
prised, also, theterritory devoted to the raising of cotton,
an article necessary to the manufacturing interests .of
the world. It was upon this production that the south
relied largely for aid: all the munitions of war could be
procured in exchange for it; and she believed it would
be a powerful factor in preventing the blockading of
her ports.
258. In consideration of this fact, and also that the The
confederate line of sea-coast was over three thousand bloctade.
miles in length, with but one port of refuge for a
blockading fleet about the middle of the line, it scarcely
seemed possible tha* r blockade could be maintained
w:th any marked decree of success. Nevertheless
776
UNITED STATES
Congress.
Battle of
Ball Ran.
Effect of
the defeat.
McC'iellan
in com-
mand.
Confed-
erate army.
Ball's
BInfr.
the president issued a proclamation (April 19, 1S61)
declaring a blockade of all the southern ports, and the
Federal government proceeded to purchase and arm a
large number of merchant vessels. But it could not at
once bring together a navy powerful enough to keep
vessels from entering or leaving the blockaded ports.
The south not only sent out vessels laden with cotton
to the West Indies and to Europe, but received in
return military supplies of all kinds. Upon the appear-
ance of Mr. Lincoln's blockade proclamation, Mr.
Davis issued one also, granting letters of marque and
reprisal to private vessels, against the commerce of the
United States. The governments of Great Britain and
France now issued proclamations of neutrality, thus
making the contest between the north and the south a
civil war, according to subseqent decisions of the
supreme court.
259. At the meeting of Congress (July 4, 1861) the
Republicans had a majority in both branches, the free
states and border states only, being represented. The
house voted to devote its time solely to the business
connected with the war. It supported the president's
proclamation closing the southern ports against com-
merce. Bills were passed to define and punish con-
spiracy against the United States, and to confiscate
all private property, including slaves, employed against
the Federal government; to authorize a loan; to call out
500,000 volunteers, and to appropriate money for the
army and navv. During Ihis session occurred the first
battle of BuHRun (.July 21, 1861). General Scott had
been appointed commander-in-chief of the union forces.
The first military movements were in the mountains of
western Virginia, and the success of the union army
there led many people to suppose that in a short time
the rebellious states would be compelled to obedience.
Mr. Seward, who was secretary of state, was especially
cheerful, and promised that the war should be over in
ninety days. The newspapers and people generally
urged an immediate movement upon Richmond. Very
few had any knowledge of the difliculties before
them, and General Scott, pressed by public opinion,
gave the order to advance. This resulted in the first
serious battle of the war. The union forces were
defeated, and retreated in a panic upon Washington.
Both armies were yet so new in military training that
the confederates gained nothing from their success.
260. This disaster opened the eyes of the north, and
the country settled down into a more serious temper.
Congress was, more than ever, stimulated to increased
energy, and pledged itself to vote any amount of money
and any number of men necessary to maintain the
union. Propositions to consider negotiations for peace
were constantly offered by extreme Democrats, and as
constantly rejected by large majorities, on the ground
that negotiation with armed rebellion was unconstitu-
tional. General Scott, having resigned the command
of the northern armies on account of his age and infir-
mity, was succeeded by General George B. McClellan,
whose successful campaign in western Virginia had
given him a high reputation throughout the army.
He had a genius for organization, and possessed the
unbounded confidence of the people. He immediately
set about forming the first great army of the war —
the Army of the Potomac — at Alexandria, in prepara-
tion for a second advance. But the advance was
delayed much too long to suit the impatience of the
people and the administration; and as the winter of
1861 62 passed away without any forward movement.
the expressions of dissatisfaction became louder and
more general. The confederacy also spent the summer
and autumn of 1861 in organizing its northern Army
of Virginia, under General Beauregard.
261. In the autumn of 1861 a portion of General
Stone's command on the Upper Potomac was sent on a
reconnoissance into Virginia, under Colonel Baker,
and, being attacked by the confederate general, Evans,
at Ball's Bluff, was disastrously defeated. Colonel
Baker was among the killed. Although Missouri had
not seceded, a strong party, with which the governor The neotral
was acting, wished to carry it over to the confederacy. ^""**-
A confederate camp near St. Louis was broken up
by Captain Lyon, of the regulars, and the St. Louis
arsenal was saved to the government. The state was
afterward invaded by confederates from Arkansas,
who were defeated by Lyon (now a general) at Boone-
ville, June 17, and by Sigel at Carthage, July 5. A
large force of confederates under McCuUough and
Price attacked Lyon at Wilson's Creek (August 10). Wiison-s
Lyon was killed, and his command fell back toward " '
the center of the state. Price with 20,000 men then
attacked Lexington, which was garrisoned by 2.000 Lexington,
federal troops under Colonel Mulligan. After an heroic
defense of three days the little garrison was compelled
to surrender (September 20) after their water supply
had been cut oil for forty-eight hours. General Fre-
mont was now appointed to \he command of the
western department. He drove Price into the south-
west comer of the state, and was about to give battle
when he was superseded by General Hunter (Novem-
ber 2). Hunter retreated to St. Louis, with Price in
pursuit; but in a fortnight Himter was replaced by
Halleck, and Price was driven into Arkansas. Ken- Kentn< kj.
tucky, like Missouri, was distracted by dissensions
among its own people, and by armies on both sides.
General Polk of the confederate armj' occupied Hick-
man and Columbus, towns on the Mississippi. There
was also a confederate force at Belmont, Missouri,
opposite Columbus. Ulysses S. Grant, recently
appointed a brigadier-general of volunteers, now first
came into notice. He drove the confederates out of
Belmont (November T), but was unable to hold the
town because it was commanded by the fortifications
of Columbus.
262. From the beginning of the war, the federal Fugitive
government was embarrassed by the question of fugi- slaves,
tive slaves. Congress had passed the act confiscating
slaves employed in service hostile to the L^nited States.
While General Fremont was in command of the forces
of the west, he had issued a proclamation declaring
the slaves of Missouri confederates free men, but this
was countermanded by President Lincoln, who did not
wish to estrange those slaveholders, especially in
Kentucky, who were stUl loyal to the union. In Vir-
ginia, General Benjamin F. Butler had declared that
slaves were " contraband of war," and therefore liable
to confiscation by military law. But as yet the dispo-
sition of the north was to subdue the south without
interfering with slavery; and some union commanders
restored to their masters the slaves who had escaped
into the federal lines.
263. Formidable expeditions were fitted out to Optratione
recapture southern harbors. A combined land and ""^Vt"
naval force, under General Butler and Commodore
Stringham reduced and occupied two forts at Hatteras
Inletl North Carolina, at the entrance to Albemarle and
Pamlico Sounds (August 29), and Port Royal harbor,
near Beaufort, South Carolina, was secured through
the reduction of Forts Walker and Beauregard by the
fleet under Commodore Dupont (November 71, and a
land force under General Thuiuas W. Sherman. These
successes were of great value to the Federal govern-
ment. They not only closed important southern port«,
but they furnished convenient stations for the
blockading fleet. The "paper blockade." as it had
been called, was soon made a very effective one along
the whole length of the southern coast from the Poto-
mac to the Rio Grande, an achievement which by
many had been deemed impossible. Still, in spite of
the watchfulness of the federal navy, several confed-
erate men-of-war and privateers sailed out of port, and
did much damage to merchant ships. The practice of g,^^^^
"running the blockade" bi'came a very profitable running.
U 2s' 1 T E D S T A T E S
relatioDs.
t
Swonu
Thew;>rui
the we»L
business: and notwithstanding the danger of capture,
■which was the case in many instances, the profits on a
single successful voyage were so great that adventurers
found they could afford to take the risk.
264. As has been stated, the south depended largely
upon assistance from abroad, and the southern leaders
still clung to the hope that they could prevail upon
Great Britain and France to recognize the independence
of the confederacy. Two commissioners, therefore,
Messrs. Mason and Slidell. were sent by the confeder-
ate government to London and Paris. They ran the
blockade, made their way to Havana, and then em-
barked for England in the British mail-steamer Trent.
Some distance out, the Trent was overhauled by an
American manof-war under Captain Wilkes, the two
commissioners were taken off (November. 1861), and
carried to Boston harbor, where they were imprisoned
in Fort Warren. This action, which was illegal and
unauthorized, catised great excitement in England, and
came very near causing a collision between the two
coimtries. Lord Palmerstou made a perempto-y de-
mand for the surrender of the prisoners. The American
government had already disavowed the act of Captain
Wilkes, which, though it was justified by the British
claim of the "right of search," was contrary to Ameri-
can principles. The confederate envoys were there-
fore promptly released and sent to England. Just
before this occurrence President Lincoln requested two
confidential agents to visit France and England in
order to help the federal cause and avert the danger
of foreign war by their influence with the governments
and with persons of distinction. The persons selected
for this delicate and important trust were Archbishop
Hughes, of New York, and Mr. Thurlow Weed. They
sailed in November and rendered very valuable service,
Mr. Weed in England, and the archbishop in France.
265. At the beginning of 1863 the war had assumed
>f ihe yg^i proportions. The number of men under arms on
both sides was nearly a million. The confederates
held possession of the Mississippi river from the gulf
o.- Mexico to the southern boundary of Kentucky, and
occupied a chain of strong positions extending thence
through Tennessee and Kentucky to the southwestern
comer of Virginia. Between the AUeghanies and the
Blue Ridge was the fertile Shenandoah valley, often dis-
puted by both armies. At the east the confederates
were posted in great force between the Potomac and
the Rappahannock. Now that Delaware. Maryland,
Kentucky and Missouri had been saved to the union,
it was certain that the battle would be fought out in
the territory to the south of tYSem. The plan of the
Federal authorities was to open the Mississippi and
penetrate the confederate line at the west, while at the
same time McClellan attacked Richmond, and a land
and naval force continued the process of capturing the
southern ports on the Atlantic coast. Simon Cameron,
who had been secretary of war, resigned January 20,
1863, and was succeeded by Edwin M. Stanton. All
the Federal armies were to move simultaneously on
the 22d of February, Washington's birthday, but this
order could not be strictl}' carried out.
266. The first advance was made in the west. Gen-
eral Grant had entered Kentucky from Illinois, and
succeeded in securing the mouths of the Tennessee and
Cumberland rivers, two streams which were to serve
aa military highways by which the Federal armies
were to penetrate into the heart of the confederacy.
The chief confederate positions between the Mississippi
river and the Alleghany mountains were Fort Henry
on the Tennessee, Fort Donelson on the Cumberland
<both in Tennessee), and Bowling Green and Mill Spring
in southern Kentucky. This line of defense was in
command of General Sidney Johnston, with headquar-
ters at Bowling Green. Here he was confronted by
General Buell's army, the middle one of the three great
Fedejal armies, which came to be known as the Army
of the Cumberland. Forts Henry and Donelson formed
the center of the confederate line, and was confronted
by Grant, whose troops afterwards formed the army of
the Tennessee. In January, 1862, General Thomas
with the left of Buell's force thoroughly defeated the
confederate right at Mill Spring. General Grant,
aided by the river fleet under Commodore Foote, now
assailed the center. Fort Henry was first attacked
and reduced by the gunboats before Grant had time to
invest it. The combined forces then assaulted Fort
Donelson, which after a brave resistance was captured
(February 16) with 15,000 prisoners. The center of the
confederate line was now pierced, and Johnston and
Polk were compelled to retreat for fear of being cut off.
Columbus, Bowling Green and Nasi ville were evacu-
ated, and the whole of Kentucky and most of Tennes-
see was in the hands of the Federals. General Buell
occupied Nashville; a strong union party showed itself
in Tennessee, and Senator Andrew Johnson was ap-
pointed military governor of the state.
267. The confederates formed their second line of
defense along the railroad from Memphis to Chatta-
nooga, and began massing their forces at Corinth. The
armies of Grant and Buell were to unite and attack the
enemy in his new position. Grant moved up the Ten-
nessee river and halted at Pittsburg Landing, orShiloh.
about twenty miles from Corinth, there to await the
arrival of Buell. Here Johnston made a brilliant attack
upon him with the intention of crushing him before
Buell could come up. A terrible battle was fought
(April 6 and 7,) in which the confederate leader, who
was one of the slain, came very near effecting his pur-
pose. But the federal forces, though driven back at
nearly every point, stubbornly resisted, and at the close
of the first day, Buell's advance guard came upon the
scene. The next morning. Grant, now reinforced, as-
sumed the offensive; and after a fight of several hours,
the confederates were driven back to Corinth.
268. While these operations were taking place in
Tennessee, Commodore Foote with his gun-boats
entered the Mississippi with a small army under Pope,
and captured Island Number Ten on the day of Grant's
victory at Shiloh. Two months later Fort Pillow was
abandoned by the confederates, and Memphis at once
fell into the hands of the union army. The victory at
Shiloh decided the fate of Corinth, an important rail-
road center, though it was not captured for several
weeks afterward on account of the slow advances of
General Halleck, who had assumed command of the
federal forces at that point. Meanwhile a fleet under
Farragut and Porter, with a land force under Butler,
had been sent to attack New Orleans. Farragut ran past
the batteries and forts at the entrance of the river,
attacked and destroyed the ironclads which met him,
and captured New Orleans, which was occupied by the
army under Butler. Farragut with a part of his fleet
then pushed up the river, clearing away all obstacles,
passed the batteries at Vicksburg, and met the federal
gunboats under Captain Davis, above. Thus the war
in the west had been, so far. marked by an almost
unbroken series of victories for the federal armies. At
the northern boundary of the state of Mississippi the
union advarre stopped for a time, but all was held that
had been won. Tr q'ain control of the great river, it
was necessrry to iaKe Vicksburg, with its outpost, Port
Hudson, which, between them, commanded the entran'"e
to the Red river, and thus kept open the communica-
tions of the eastern part of the confederacy with its
states of Texas, Louisiana and Arkansas. To capture
Vicksburg wouldcut off these states, and greatly cripple
the fighting power of the confederate government.
The occupation of Chattanooga was also necessary to
the success of the union arms. It would open the way
into Georgia, and prevent the confederates from recov-
ering any of the lost ground in Tennessee.
269. While the south had met wiih defeat in the west.
Forts II
aud Dot
fecn.
Pittsburg
Landiu!:
On the M •
sissippi
New Or
leans nik.j.
The Mon:
tor aud ;be
Merrimac.
77d
UNITED STATES
it was encouraged by a success in Hampton Roads.
The confederates had taken the Merrimac, a former
frigate of the United States navy, and transformed her
into an ironclad ram, with sloping sides and huge iron
beak. On March 8, 1863, this strange-looking craft
entered Hampton Roads and attacked the federal
fleet lying there, which consisted of five wooden ships
of war. The Merrimac destroyed the Cumberland, and
also compelled the frigate Congress to surrender. At
night she went back to Norfolk. The next morning she
was seen coming out again to complete the work of
destruction. Suddenly the Monitor, a turreted ironclad
vessel, advanced to meet her, and after an obstinate
engagement of several hours the Merrimac was com-
pelled to retire. These encounters were remarkable as
the first engagements between ironclads and wooden
vessels and between two ironclads. The result caused a
revolution in the navies of the world; the day of wooden
war-vessels was seen to be over, and all the great pow-
ers began at once the construction of iron and steel
vessels,
.'irginia 270. The mOitary operations in Virginia during the
campaign, yg^j. ^jggg ofEered a strong contrast to the course of
events in the west. This was owing partly, no doubt,
to the superior ability of the confederate commanders,
as compared with their antagonists, partly because on
the union s>de military affairs were too much inter-
mingled with politics. While General McClellan was
organizing a splendid army of 200,000 men near Wash-
ington, General Banks was ordered to occupy the
sndoah™ Shenandoah valley. He began his advance in Feb-
vaiiey. ruary, and having, as he supposed, cleared the valley
of the enemy, set out with his own corps proper to
join McClellan. As soon as he was gone. General
Jackson, popularly known as "Stonewall Jackson,"
hastened to attack the division of Shields which re-
mained in the valley. After a desperate battle at
Kearnstown (March 23), Jackson was compelled to
retire. Banks returned to the valley and Shields was
sent to join McDowell at Fredericksburg. General
Fremont now approached from the west, in order to
unite with Banks near Stanton. To prevent this Jack-
son formed the plan of attacking the Federal forces in
detail. He nearly succeeded in gettiag into the rear of
the main body with a much larger army than Banks
could muster. By a hurried retreat Banks reached and
crossed the Potomac, with the confederate cavalry in
close pursuit. Shields hastened back to the valley, but
his advance guard was defeated at Port Republic
(June 8) by Jackson, who. the same day, had checked
Fremont at Cross Keys. Having thus saved the valley
to the confederates, and obliged the government at
Washington to detain for the defense of the capital a
large body of troops which McClellan greatly needed
for other duty, Jackson joined the confederate army in
front of Richmond,
•r^ Army 271. General McClellan concentrated the Army of the
Fcitumiir Potomac between Washington and Manasses, as if
intending to advance against Richmond by that route.
He then withdrew his forces and went by water to
Fortress Monroe in order to advance up the peninsula
between the James and York rivers. Here he was held
in check for a month by Johnston at Yorktown, and
when McClellan was ready to take the place, the con-
fede.-ates retreated toward Richmond. The union
forcto followed, and both armies concentrated around
Richmond. McClellan gained the battles of Williams-
burg (May 5), and West Point (May 9), and advanced
within seven miles of the city. A panic broke out in
the southern capital, and the confederate Congress ad-
journed in haste. It was just at this time that Stone-
wall Jackson, by his brilliant and daring exploits in the
Shenandoah valley, obliged the federal government to
keep in front of Washington a corps under McDowell
which was about to co-operate with McClellan by way
of Fredericksburg. The movements of McClellan "n-
volved the separation of the two wings of his army by
the little river Chickahominy, which by a sudden rise
was changed into a wide stream. The confederates
under Johnston at once attacked the union left wing at
Fair Oaks and Seven Pines. A fierce battle ensued, FairOaks
lasting two days; the result, however, was a union vie- p^n^f'^*^"
tory. Johnston was wounded, and was succeeded by
Robert E. Lee, who retained command of the army of
Virgmia during the rest of the war.
272. The absence of McDowell, who was expected to
support McCleUan's right, compelled a change in the
whole plan of operations. Although Lee had been
repulsed in an attack on the Federal lines at Mechanics-
ville (June 26), he fell upon them again at Gaines MiH.
the day following, in overwhelming force, and drove
them across the Cliickahominy with severe loss. Jack-
son had now reinforced Lee, and McClellan was cut off
from his base of supplies on York river. Unable to
reunite his wings and regain his base, the union general
decided upon the diSicult maneuver of establishing
another base on the James river. While effecting this
change, the union troops were hard pressed by Lee and
and Jackson, who, during the period from June 26 to
July 1, attacked them at Golding's Farm, Savage's The 'iScvcn
Station, White Oak Swamp, Glendale, etc., and finally Bafu,,B ■•
at Malvern Hill, where the confederates were signally
repulsed. This was the last of a series of engagements
known as the "Seven Days' Battles," in the course of
which McClellan lost over 15,000 men. Lee suffered
almost as much. The union army had now reached
the James river, and established itseif in a position
from which it could not be driven.
273. Lee and Jackson then turned their attention
toward Washington, which was defended by an army
under General Pope. Pope's forces stretched along
the Rappahannock and Rapidan to the Shenandoah
valley. General Banks held a position at the western
end of the line, and was attacked by Jackson at Cedar
Mountain. Lee followed close behind, and the two
generals forced Banks back and then attacked Pope.
McClellan received orders from Washington to join
Pope, and a portion of his forces came up in time to
take part iu the second battle of Bull Run, August 29. The socouts
Pope's army was put to rout, Washington was threat- Bn'i'ijn',
ened and the whole country was wild with excitement.
Lee now led his victorious army across the upper
Potomac and entered Maryland. McClellan, gathering
up the remants of the two defeated armies, followed
and confronted the confederates at Antietam creek. A
desperate struggle took place (September 17). It left ^ntielam,
each army exhausted: but the victoiy remained with '
the union forces. The confederates recrossed the
Potomac and retired up the Shenandoah valley. The
administration was dissatisfied with McClellan 's course,
and his command was given to General Burnside. The
new commander at once moved toward Richmond,
proposing to cross the Rappahannock at Fredericks-
burg. Here he found Lee posted upon the hills behind
the town. Burnside crossed the river, and, formings
his army in three divisions, attempted to storm the
heights (December 13). It was a day of terrible
slaughter for the federal troops. They were repulsed Fredeiicke
with the loss of twelve thousand men, the army was ^^'
demoralized and retreated to the north side of the
river. Burnside was then superseded by General
Hooker. The close of 1802 thus found the opposing
armies iu nearlj' the same positions as at the beginning;
of the war. At the north gloom and discouragement
prevailed. At the state elections held ia the autumn
there was a majority against the administration in
several of the northern states, and the result of the
campaigns on the Potomac gave great strength to the
peace party, which believed that the attempt to sub-
jugate the south ought to be abandoned.
274. In June 1862 the great union force at Corinth Campnigy..-
was divided. Bucll's armv marching eastward to seize "" '*"'""
UXITED STATES
119
I
I
Chattanooga, while Grant's remained at Corinth till it
should be ready to start for Vicksburg. The campaign
was so badly managed by Halleck that the confed-
erates, under Bragg, seized Chattanooga before Buell's
arrival. They were thus enabled to press him so
vigorously that he had to be largely reinforced from
Grant's army. Thus weakened. Grant was unable to
advance for several months. During the sunmier of
1863 the confederates made a great effort to repair the
disasters they had suffered on the Tennessee and Mis-
Operations sissippl rivers by an invasion of Kentucky. An army
tuckv" under Kirby Smith moved from Knoxville, East Ten-
nessee, while another, under Bragg, marched from
Chattanooga. The confederate general. Smith, de-
feated General Nelson near Richmond, Kentucky,
August 30, and advanced toward the Ohio, threatening
Cincinnati. General Lew Wallace, however, com^
pelled him to fall back to Frankfort. Bragg in the
meantime hastened toward the city of Louisville.
Buell, leaving Nashville, by forced marches reached
the place one day ahead of Bragg. Being reinforced
he slowly pushed the confederates back. Bragg
formed a junction with Smith at Frankfort, and four
days later a severe but indecisive battle svas fought at
Perryville (October 8). The confederates then re-
treated through Cumberland Gap.
27.5. During Bragg's campaign, the confederate army
in Mississippi under General Van Dom made an attempt
to turn Grant's left wing at Corinth, and thus force him
back down the Tennessee river. This wing was com-
maded by General Rosecrans, who defeated Price at
luka and luka, a few miles from Corinth, September 19. On
Connth. October 4, Van Dorn and Price together attacked Cor-
inth, but were repulsed by Rosecrans with a loss of
live thousand men, and pursued forty miles. Soon after
this Rosecrans superseded Buell in command of the
army of the Cumberland. Bragg had advanced to
Murfreesborough, in central Tennessee. There Rose-
crans attacked him (December 31), and a bloody battle
was fought, in which 40,000 men were engaged on each
side, and each lost more than 10,000. This engagement
sionc river, is generally known as the battle of Stone river. It was
Indecisive. On .January 2, 1863 Bragg renewed the
attack with great vigor, but this time he was signally
defeated and compelled to retire to Chattanooga.
276. While these battles were being fought. Grant
had begun his tirst movement againsi the strong and
important post of Vicksburg, on the Mississippi. His
plan was to march from Jackson, Mississippi, while
Sherman, with his 40,000 men, and Porter with a fleet
of gunboats, descended the river from Memphis. The
movements were made according to this arrangement,
but Van Dorns cavalry succeeded in getting in Grant's
rear and cutting off his supplies. This compelled
Grant to abandon his march to Jackson. Sherman
and Porter attacked the bluffs north of Vicksburg, but
were repulsed with heavy loss (December 29). Hearing
of Grant's misfortune they returned to Memphis.
.Affair- on 277. After Hatteras Inlet to Pamlico Sound had been
the coast, captured, it was next resolved to attack the confederate
position on Roanoake Island, which commands the
passage between Pamlico and Albemarle Sounds. A
.and and naval expedition under General Burnside
and Commodore Goldsborough took the forts and bat-
teries of the island (February 8, 1862), captured a con-
federate flotilla, occupied Newbern, North Carolina
(March 14), and reduced Fort Macon, at Beaufort, April
25. Expeditions from Port Royal imder Commodore
Dupont took possession of Darien and Brunswick,
Georgia, and of Jacksonville, Fernandina, and Saint
Augustine, Florida. April 11, 1862, General Gilmore
captured Fort Pulaski on the Savannah river. Thus
'.he port of Savannah was completely closed, although
no effort was made for some time to occupy the city.
Congress. 278. During the movements of the \rmies in 1862,
Congress bad not been idle. It v as chiefly orcu|iic-il ii;
measures connected with the prosecution of the war-
Its most far-reaching action was in the provision for a
uniform national currency. At the beginning of the
war the government had borrowed large sums of money-
to defray expenses, and it continued to borrow, as new
demands arose. The result was similar to that which
occurred in the Revolutionary war. The promises to
pay became less valuable as compared with gold, which
was the standard of value throughout the civilized
world. The banks in the several states could no
longer obtain gold without paying a high price for It;
and at the end of 1861 they suspended specie payments.
In order to provide a currency for the people, a bill 1 aper
was passed by congress, early in 1863, authorizing the '^"""•cncy.
issue of notes by the United States treasury. These
notes received the popular name of "greenbacks," from
the color of the paper on which they were printed; and
to insure their success they were declared by Congress
to be" "legal tender" (February 25, 1862). Early in
1863, Congresspassed an act establishing national banks, ^'atiou»v=
Heretofore the states had incorporated all banks, and tianks.
the bills of each bank were seldom current except in
its own neighborhood. By the national banking system,
the banks were to be organized, and United States
bonds deposited at Washington. The banks were then
permitted to issue notes up to ninety per cent, of the
value of the bonds deposited, and the notes, being thus
secured, became current in every part of the country.
The national banks are still in operation. A homestead
bill was passed, which assigned public lands to actual
settlers at reduced rates. Congress also prohibited
slavery in the District of Columbia; slaves of insurgent
were ordered to be confiscated; and the army was for-
bidden to surrender fugitive slaves to their masters. It
provided for the construction of a Pacific railroad and
telegraph, and began a further development of the
system of granting public lands to railway corporations.
279. Since the south had brought on the war in de- Emancipa-
fense of slavery, the abolition sentiment had spread '*°°-
very rapidly in the north, and it had now become sup-
ported by the military needs of the hour. At the
beginning of the conflict the union leaders and people
generally had not favored any interference with slavery,
but circumstances had proved their position to be unten-
able. President Lincoln, who watched anxiously every
movement, was convinced that the time had come when
the federal government could no longer attempt to carry
on the war successfully and spare the system of slavery,
which was perceived by every discerning man to be at
the foundation of the confederacy. He therefore
announced (September, 1862,) that unless the revolting
states should return to their allegiance by January 1,
1863, he should declare the slaves in these states to be
free. It was a formal notice given out of respect to
law; no one seriously expected that it would be regarded
by the confederate states. And it was not. They only
grew more firm in consequence of the action taken.
On the first day of January, 1863, in accordance with
his notice, the president issued his celebrated Proclama- Procla-ai--
tion of Emancipation. This act caused much discussion.' "°°-
Mr. Lincoln could not, legally, issue such a declaration,
for the constitution gave him no authority to abolish
slavery. But he acted on the principle of military
necessity, advocated by John Quincy Adams in his
speech of April 14, 1842, in which he said: "Whether
the war be civil, servile, or foreign, I lay this down as
the law of nations: I say that the military authority
takes for the time the place of all municipal institutions,
slavery among the rest. Under that state of things, so
far from its being true that the states where slavery
exists have the exclusive management of the subject,
not only the president of the United States, but the
commander of the army, has power to order the univer-
sal emancipation of slaves." However the case may
be, the presiilent's course was dictated by clear common
sense raid wise statesmiusliip. Tbe events of the pre-
TSO
U Is" I T E I) STATES
I'Lrd year
li [he war.
Biitlleof
<'brtncel-
Suvasionof
-vHnia.
Battle of
t^ttySbarg
Vickshurg
ceding summer had shown that the war was far from
being at an end. The cutting off of the cotton supply
had been a general calamity, and the distress produced
in consequence created a fear lest England and France
should unite in an attempt to put an end to the contest.
But the proclamation changed all this. By it the strug-
gle was converted into a crusade against slavery, and
in this light foreign intervention was now simply im-
possible, owing to Great Britain's attitude toward
slavery. Moreover, should the federal government
be successful, the question of slavery would practically
be settled forever, for its abolition would be certain
when the union was re established. One of the first
results of the act was the formation of regiments of
negro soldiers. An attack made by one of these regi-
ments, under Colonel Shaw, upon Fort Wagner, in
Charleston harbor, though unsuccessful, show€d so
much bravery that the prejudice against negro soldiers
disappeared, and great numbers were euroUed.
380. General Hooker spent three months in reorganiz-
ing and strengthening the Armj' of the Potomac. At
the end of April, 1863, he began his march toward
Richmond with 130,000 men. Sending the sixth corps,
under Sedgwick, to cross the Rappahannock below
Fredericksburg, he threw his main body across the
fiver a few miles higher up, and before Lee understood
his purpose he had advanced to Chancellorsville. Here
I.,ee won one of the most marked of his victories (May
1 to 4), with only one-half as many men as Hooker com-
manded. Jackson made a magnificent attack upon the
union right, taking it by surprise, and drove it back in
confusion. Sedgwick, on the left, had carried the
heights of Fredericksburg and was pushing on toward
Chancellorsville, when the disaster on the right enabled
Lee to face him with the main confederate force. Sedg-
wick was compelled to retire during the night which
followed the 4th of May, and Hooker recrossed the
Rappahannock the next night. Hooker's loss was
16.000; Lee's was 13,000; but the confederates fur-
ther sustained a severe disaster in the death of Stone-
wall Jackson.
281. Lee now repeated the maneuver he had prac-
ticed after defeating General Pope. Turning Hooker's
riirht Bank, he pushed on through the western part of
Maryland into Pennsylvania, so as to threaten Phila-
delphia, Baltimore, and Washington. There was
intense alarm at the north, and reinforcements were
Lurried into Pennsylvania from all quarters. In con-
sequence of a disagreement with General Halleck,
Hooker resigned the command of the Army of the
Potomac, and it was given to General George G.
Meade. The two hostile armies, each 100,000 strong,
were now moving in parallel lines, with the Blue Ridge
and South Mountain range between them. On the 1st
of July they came into collision at Gettysburg. A tre-
snendous battle was fought, lasting until the close of
July 3. It resulted in the defeat of Lee, with a loss of
nearly 40,000 men; Meade's loss was 24,000. This
battle was one of the greatest of modern times, the loss
on both sides being more than one-third of the whole
number engaged. It was also the turning point of the
civil war. The south was never able to collect so fine
an army again, and never recovered from the exhaus-
tion of the Gettysburg campaign. Lee moved slowly
back to his old position on the Rapidan, where he and
Meade held each other in check until the following
spring. Many in the north were inclined to believe
that Lee's former successes had been due to Stonewall
Jackson's ability, and that he had lost his prestige upon
the death of that brave commander. But the campaigu
of 1804 was to prove the contrary.
283. On the next day after the battle of Gettysburg,
General Grant gained a decisive victory ou the Missis-
sippi. Having failed in several attempts to take
Vicksburg from the north, he now determined to
transfer his army to the south side of this strongly
fortified place. To do this it was necessary to cross
the river, march down its west bank, cross again below
Vicksburg, and march up the east bank, while the fleet,
which had run past the batteries of Vicksburg after
the capture of New Orleans, would have to pass them
again in order to transport the army over the river and
protect the crossing. This plan was carried out in
April. Commodore Porter performed his task success-
fully under a heavy fire, and on the 29th of April
opened a cannonade upon Grand Gulf, at the mouth
of the Big Black river, where it had been determined
to attempt a crossing. The confederate batteries here
proving too strong, the fleet ran past them, also, and
the crossing was made at Bruinsburg, a few miles
below. Grant now pushed rapidly forward. The con-
federates were beaten at Port Gibson, and compelled
to evacuate Grand Gulf. McPherson and Sherman
captured Jackson, the capital of Misissippi, and a place
of great military importance on account oif its railway
connections. The union army then turned, fell upon
the confederate general, Pemberton, who had marched
out of Vicksburg to unite with Johnston, defeated him
at Champion Hills (May 16). and at the crossing of the
Black river (May IT), and at last shut him up in Vicks-
burg. After a siege of forty-five days Pemberton sur-
rendered, and the great confederate stronghold of the
west, with 27,000 prisoners, fell into the hands of the
victorious Federals. Port Hudson, under siege at the
same time, could no longer hold out, and the Misissippi.
as President Lincoln said, "lan unvexed to the sea."
This was the heaviest blow that the confederacy had
as yet received; its whole western zone was now
virtually conquered, and it became possible to concen-
trate greater union forces against its middle and eastern
zones. The news of Gettysburg and Vicksburg made
the Fourth of July, 1863, a day of rejoicing in the
north, and of mourning in thousands of bereaved
homes.
383. The Vicksburg campaign marked the decline of
the confederate fortunes in the west, as the Gettysbuig
campaign did in the east. In the meantime the people
had learned to give a more careful attention to the
welfare of the soldiers who were bearing the brunt of
the conflict. The Sanitary Commission, the Christian
Commission, and other voluntary associations, had been
organized, and were doing a grand work for the moral
and physical needs of the men in the field; and this
care was not confined solely to northern troops, but
was often extended to the confederates as well. The
expenses of the National government for prosecuting
the war now amounted to $2,000,000 per day on an
average, and notwithstanding the heavy taxation
imposed upon the country the debt had increased to
$500,000,000 by June, 1863; during 1863 it was double
that amount; by June, 1864, it had grown to $1,700.000, -
000; and at the end of August, 1865, it attained its
maximum, $2,845,907,626. But the best of care and
judgment was exercised in the use of these vast
expenditures. The army was constantly supplied with
improved weapons and munitions of war; the block-
ading fleets were kept in perfect order, and everything
was done to insure the success of the union arms.
284. As early as April, 1863, the confederate Con-
gress had passed a conscription act, enrolling in the
army all adult white males below a certain age, but as
the war went on the demand for men became con-
tinually greater and the conscription was made more
sweeping. Toward the end of the war every white
man between the ages of seventeen and fifty five was
held liable to military service, and in practice the only
limit was physical incapacity. The federal govern-
ment also was compelled to take almost a similar
course. In March, 1863, Congress passed au act for
the enrollment of all able-bodied male citizens between
the ages of eighteen and forty-five, and the president
was authorized to make draSts for military service.
J:ick^o:i.
Cli;irap.nn
Hills iirid
Blaektiiver
Capture or
Vkksliurg
The Siini-
tary and
Christiau
Coinniii*-
eions.
Goveru-
meut ex-
penses.
Con-
acription.
I
UNITED STATES
7Sr.
Chai
I
those between twenty and thirty-five to be first called
upon. Under this law a call for 300,000 troops was
made in May. As the full number was not made up
by volunteering a draft was ordered to supply the
deficiency. The first attempts to carry it out resulted
in forcible resistance in many places, the most notable
Draft riofs. being the "draft riots" in New York city in July, just
after the battle of Gettysburg. These riots lasted four
days in that city. During this time New York was in
the hands of a lawless mob, many shocking murders
were committed and $2,000,000 worth of property was
destroyed. All opposition was at leugth put down,
but exemptions and substitute purchases were freely
permitted, and the states endeavored to fill their re-
spective quotas as far as possible by offering bounties
as a stimulus to volunteering.
285. After his renowned victory near Murfreesboro,
Rosecrans remained quiet for a period, preparing for a
new catnpaign. Late in June he began a series of
skillful movements against Bragg which compelled the
confederate general to fall back upon Chattanooga.
Early in September Rosecrans forced him to evacuate
the place by threatening his communications. The
union general followed him across the Tennessee
river and was thus beyond the strong position of
Chattanooga. General Bragg, having been heavily
reinforced from Virginia, turned at Chickamauga
creek to give battle. A severe engagement was fought
(September 17-20, 1863) in which Loogstreet routed the
right of the union forces, but the wonderful skill and
bravery of General Thomas, who commanded the left
wing, saved the federal army and secured its retreat to
Chattanooga. Bragg having gained possession of the
mountains around the place cut off almost all avenues
of further retreat and laid siege to Chattanooga. The
government at Washington had committed the mistake
of dividing the union forces, for while Rosecrans was
left to face an army greatly superior in numbers, under
General Bragg, General Burnside was sent into east
Tennessee with an independent command. Bragg was
now so sure of Rosecrans' defeat that he dispatched
Longstreet with a part of his army to attack Eurnside
at Knoxville. In October Rosecrans was superseded
by Thomas, and Grant was put in command of all the
western armies. He was joined at Chattanooga by two
corps under Hooker from the Potomac. General
Sherman came up from Vicksburg with a greater part
of the army of the Tennessee. Bragij's positions on
Lookout MoLmtain and Missionary Ridge were now
assaulted. T'le former was successfully stormed by
Hooker (Not ember 34), part of the fighting taking
place amidst a thick mist which covered the summit,
hence this has been called the "battle above the
clouds." On the next day Missionary Ridge was car-
ried by the main army. Hooker on the right, Thomas
in the center and Sherman on the left. Bragg was
driven from all his positions back to Dalton and was
soon afterward superseded by General J. E. Johnston.
Longstreet raised the siege of Knoxville and retreated
across the mountains into Virginia to join Lee.
286. Many attempts had been made to reduce Charles-
ton, South Carolina, the strongest, as well as the most
important of the southern seaports, but without suc-
cess. At length Fort Wagner was taken (September 7)
after a tremendous bombardment by the Federal fleet
and Gillmore's batteries; Fort Sumter, also, was reduced
to ruins. The blockading vessels were thus enabled to
enter the harbor, and the port of Charleston was
entirely closed. Taking advantage of every loophole
in the British foreign enlistment act, the confederate
authorities had succeeded in fitting out several formida-
ble cruisers, wkich, in the course of the year 1863, did
immense damage to American commerce. Whenever
they were closely pursued by United States vessels they
took refuge in neutral ports, and then put out to sea
again upon the first favorable opportunity. The most
Lookout
'MoQntain
led Mis-
f'onary
'.idge.
Charleston.
Confeder-
ate cmieers
active ones were the Florida, the Alabama and the-
Georgia. The Florida, built at Liverpool, after having
captured twenty-one vessels, was seized in the harbor
of Bohia, Brazil (October, 1864). The Georgia, built
at Glasgow, put to sea in April, but was captured after
a short cruise by the United States frigate Niagara.
The most important of the confederate cruisers was
the Alabama. She was built at Liverpool for the con-
federate captain, Semmes. The British government
was , urged by the American minister, Mr. Adams, to
enforce its own laws, and prevent her going to sea; yet
she was allowed to set sail in July. After destroying
more than sixty vessels, she was met by the United
States steamer Kearsage, commanded by Captain Win- The Kear-
slow, off Cherbourg (June 19, 1864), and after an hour's \^i|baml
action the Alabama was sunk.
287. At the beginning of 1864, several detached oper- Minor
ations were carried on which, though attracting much oP'=''^t'°'>--
attention at the time, had but little direct bearing upon
the closing campaigns of the war. General Sherman made
his raid nearly across the state of Mississippi, destroy-
ing railroads, bridges and supplies. General Seymour,
leading a union expedition into Florida, was defeated.
General Banks was sent up the Red river to attack
Shreveport, and bring away cotton. The expedition
ended in failure and disaster. General Rosecrans was
appointed to command in Missouri. He succeeded in
repelling an invasion by Price, who was finally driven
from the state. General Forrest, with a confederate
force made a raid into Tennessee and Kentucky, and
captured Fort Pillow (April 12), where a number of
negro troops were massacred.
288. The success of Grant in the west had made him Grant
the chief figure in the war. In March, 1864, he super- i'l '''s ^'■--
seded Halleck as couiinander-in-chief, with the rank of
lieutenant-general. He at once took personal direction
of the campaign against Richmond, whiie retaining
Meade in immediate command. The army of the
Potomac was re-organized in three crops, under Han-
cock, Warren and Sedgwick, to which was soon added
another under Burnside, while General Philip Sheridan
was called from the west, and appointed to the com-
mand of all the cavalry in the eastern army. Lee's
forces, which comprised the flower of the southern
troops, had otherwise been divided into three corps,
under Generals A. P. Hill, Ewell and Longstreet.
Sherman had been left in command of the three western Shermaii.
armies of the Ohio, the Cumberland, and the Tennes-
see, and he was to oppose Johnston at Dalton. Accord-
ing to arrangement, a simultaneous advance was made
in Georgia and Virginia, early in May. The army of
the Potomac, numbering about 125,000 men (nearly
twice as many as Lee's), crossed the Rapidan and
entered the "Wilderness" on the other side. It was The
Grant's object to push through this diflicult country as ^ildemese
rapidly as possible and get between Lee's armj' and
Richmond. In pursuing the direct route through
Fredericksburg to Richmond, the union army encount-
ered a series of strong defensive positions, of which Lee
availed himself with consummate skill. The battles
began on the 5th. and continued until the 12th without
interruption, both sides fighting with the utmost
bravery and suffering severely. Lee was steadily
forced back, and on the 9th Grant was clear of the
Wilderness with his forces concentrated near Spott-
sylvania court-house. Here there was furious and ob-
stinate fighting for ten days, with scarcely any inter-
mission. Then followed the battles of North Anna
and Cold Harbor in which the union losses were ter-
rible. Having now reached the Chickahominy, and
finding it impossible to break through Lee's lines of
defense, Grant crossed the river, and moving far to the
right of his adversary, transferred his army beyond
the James to assail Richmond from the south. This
involved the reduction of the strongly-fortified town of
Petersburg, on the Appomattox, p: actically a part of PetersbniB;.
782
U X I T E 1) S T A T E S
Oedar
Creek.
the defenses of Richmoud, from which it was twenty
miles distant. It aliO brought the Federal lines into
dangerous proximity to Lee's railroad communications
with the south. At this point, therefore, the confeder-
ate commander stationed the best part of his troops,
and stubbornly resisted all Grant's efforts to extend his
lines further to the southwest or to reach the railroads.
289 A long siege of Richmond and Petersburg was
now begun early in June, but neither army remained in-
active. In July, Lee sent Early into the Shenandoah
valley, with a corps strong enough to menace Washing-
ington, hoping that Grant might be induced to call off
troops from Petersburg. The chief result of Early's
movement was the burning of Chambersburg, and the
capture of a quantity of supplies. Grant put Sheridan
in command of the valley, who defeated Gen, Early at
Winchester (September 19), and at Fisher's Hill two
days later, after which he destroyed all the rich crops
in the valley and carried off the cattle, so that the con-
federates might not be tempted to repeat the raid. But
Early, having obtained fresh troops, suddenly fell upon
the federals at Cedar Creek (October 19), driving them
back in great confusion. Sheridan was absent when
the battle was fought, but, getting intelligence of.it, he
rode rapidly up the valley, rallied his men, who were,
however, being enheartened by their respective com-
manders, and scattered Early's forces, which never met
Sheridan again as a compact army during the remainder
of the war.
Meanwhile, Grant had succeeded in getting possession
of a few miles of the Weldon railroad, upon which Lee
depended for transportation, but the confederate gen-
eral brought his supplies in wagons round that portion
held by the federals. The two armies now remained
in comparatively the same posftioa until the following
spring.
290. The western campaign in 1864 began at the same
time as Grant's movement in Virginia Sherman ad-
vanced from Chattanooga with 100,000 men under
Thomas, McPherson, and Schofield, against Johnston's
force of 75,000. The objective point of the campaign
was the capture of Atlanta, Georgia, a very strongly
fortified place about one hundred miles south of Chat-
tanooga, and the chief manufactory of the confederate
military supplies. Johnston, wilh his weaker force,
dared not risk a regular battle, but he made the best use
of the various defensive positions which the rough and
mountainous country afforded. By a series of masterly
flank movements Sherman compelled him to evacuate
one position after another. Severe battles were fought
at Resaca (May 15), Dallas (May 25), Lost Mountain
(June 14), and Kenesaw Mountain (June 37). By the
lOlh of July Johnston was intrenched behind the de-
fenses of Atlanta, and the two armies were facing each
each other with the Chattahoochee river between them.
Johnston's retreat had been conducted with great skill,
but he was now superseded by Hood (July 17),who was
Operations known as a "fightinggeneral." Hood at once proceeded
at Atlauia. j^ carry out the active policy of the confederate gov-
ernment, and assumed the offensive. Before the end
of the month he had made three furious assaults on the
union lines and was repulsed in every one of them.
The federals, however, sustained a heavy loss in the
death of General McPherson. At length, by fine man
euvering, Sherman succeeded in gaining the rear of
Atlanta, and cutting the supply railroads. This obliged
the confederates to retreat in all haste, and on the 2d
of September, Sherman was able to telegraph to Wash-
ington that Atlanta was won.
ihKidin 291. Hood, by the direct command of Davis, now
Tennessee, made a fatal mistake, which materially hastened the
downfall of the confederacy. He moved northwest-
ward by Tuscumbia and Florence into middle Tennes-
see, thinking that Sherman would follow him in order
to defend that state. But Sherman was no more to be
controlled by this device than Grant had been by Early's
The
.\llanta
campaign.
raid into the Shenandoah. He divided his army, send-
ing back part of it under Thomas to take care of Hood,
while he himself prepared to continue his advance
through Georgia. Hood, moving northward toward
Nashville, was met and defeated at Franklin (Novem-
ber 30), with heavy loss, by Schofield. The confeder-
ate general arrived at Nashville with about 44,000 men
The union forces awaited him there behind the forti
fications. Thomas, having completed his preparations,
suddenly moved out of his works and fell upon the
confederate lines (December 15). The battle lasted two
days and ended in the utter rout and demoralization
of Hood's forces. Thus one of the two great armies of
the confederacy was scattered, never again to be united.
Of all the battles fought in the course of the war, this
was the most complete victory. ■
292. While these things were going on, the presi-
dential election of 1864 took place. Some of the more
radical men, dissatisfied with what they called Mr.
Lincoln's timid and irresolute policy, met in convention
(May 31) at Cleveland, Ohio, and nominated John C.Fre-
mont for the presidency. Mr.Lmcoln and Andrew John-
son were nominated (June 7) for president and vice-pres'
sident by the Republican National Convention at Balti-
more. The Democratic National Convention declared in
its platform that the inability of the federal government to
restore the union by w ar was demonstrated by four
years of failure; that the constitution had been violated
in all its parts under the plea of military necessity; and
that a cessation of hostilities ought to be obtained It
nominated George B. McClellan and George H. Pendle-
ton as president and vice-president. Thisdeclaration of
the peace Democracy that the war was a failure, when
all things were now pointing toward the final success
of the north, caused many doubtful voles to be cast for
the Republican candidates, and asssured their election.
When the electoral votes were counted, Lincoln and
Johnson had received 212, McClellan and Pendleton 21.
293. Sherman had burned Atlanta, destroyed the
railroads and telegraphs in his rear, sent back the sick
and wounded, and much of the baggage, and set out
(November 14) on his " famous march through Geor-
gia." His army, 65,000 strong, was spread out over a
breadth of forty miles, subsisting mainly on the prod-
uce of the country. For a month scarcely anything
was heard of him at the north, when he suddenly
turned up at Savannah, Ga. He had met with but
little opposition on his route. The confederates had
numerous bodies of troops which might have been con-
centrated to oppose his march, but he had threatened
so many points and kept the enemy in so much doubt
as to hia objects that they could not tell for which
point he was making. On December 13 Fort McAllis-
ter was taken by assault, and on the 20th Savannah
was evacuated by the confederates, Sherman sending
the news of the capture to president Lincoln as a
"Christmas gift." He also sent word that the confed-
eracy was nothing but a shell, and that he was ready
with his victorious army to march northward.
294. The only important ports, except Galveston,
which remained open to the confederacy in the summer
of 1864, were Mobile in Alabama, and Wilmington, in
North Carolina. The fort? commanding the entrance
to Mobile Bay were captured (August 5) and the port
was closed. On January 16, 1865, Wilmington, North
Carolina, was taken by a combined land and naval
force, under General Terry and Commodore Porter.
On the day before this event, Sherman had begun his
northward march, passing through Columbia, to Fay-
etteville, North Carolina. This movement had forced
the evacuation of Charleston and other coast cities, and
their garrisons had been concentrated under Johnston
as a last hope. The military support of the confed-
eracy now rested on the army which Lee commanded
within the intrenchments of Richmond and Petersburg,
and on the remnant of the western forces with which
Nashville.
Pr-'sidenthil
elec;ion
ol ISM.
Sherman's
march »o
the sea.
Savannah.
Mobile and
Wilming-
ton.
Sherman's
mur'^h to
the north.
U X I T E D S T A T L S
7S;j
Fall of the
confed-
eracy.
i
Johnston was trying to check Shermans advance. >
Some sharp lighting took place north of Fayetteville, i
but Goldsborough was reached March 21, and Johnston
retreated to Raleigh. Sherman pushed on after him.
but events in Virginia were fast rendering a contest in
North Carolina unnecessary. While the union army
occupied Goldsborough. Sherman took a steamer on I
the coast and hurriedly visited the James river, where
he met the president. General Grant and General Meade,
and arranged with them the plan of operations for the
future. During Sherman's march through North Car-
olina, Sheridan had led a column of cavalry up the
Shenandoah valley to destroy Lee's communications in
the rear of Richmond. He passed along the James
river, doing great damage to the canal and railroads,
and joined the main army in front of Petersburg just
as Sherman arrived there for his conference with the
president and Grant.
295. The situation of Lee was now becoming des- '
perate. He determined to abandon Petersburg and
Richmond, move by way 'of Danville, and effect a
junction with Johnston. With this purpose he made
one desperate attempt to break the center of the union
lines at Fort Steadman. intending under cover of the
attack to withdraw his force. The effort failed, and
Lee was repulsed with heavy loss. Grant resumed his i
attempts to push his lines further round to the south of
Petersburg. Sheridan was put in command of the j
extreme left. Here he attacked Lee's right at Five
*""*""* Forks ( April! ), destroyed the Southside railroad, and !
maintained his position. To avoid being outflanked
Lee was compelled to lengthen out his line, alreadj' too '
thin. The next morning (April 2) Grant made a general
assault, and carried his army within the lines of the
Petersburg defences. Lee retreated, with the intention
of bringing his forces and Johnston's together for a final
stand, while the advance guard of the union army
Bicbmood. entered Richmond. The confederate authorities
hastened to escape to Danville, having first set fire to I
the shipping, tobacco warehouses, etc., at Richmond.- i
No time was lost in celebrations of the victory. Grant
pressed on in the pursuit of Lee with all vigor. He
had 80 disposed the federal army that the es^cape of
Surrender the Confederates was almcfet impossible. The confed-
of L#e. erate forces were headed off at Appomattox Court
House, where Lee surrendered (April 9, 1865). The
terms of surrender offered by Grant were very generous;
all private property belonging to officers and soldiers
was to be retained, the men were even allowed to keep
their horses, " because," Grant said, " they would need
them for the work on their farms." Officers and men
were at once set free on parole, with the understanding
that so long as they did not violate their parole, nor
break the laws, they would not be disturbed by the
federal government.
296. Sherman had begun his final operations against
Johnston when the news arrived of the surrender of
Lee. Johnston thereupon capitulated (April 20) on
much the same terms that had been accorded to the
confederate army in Virginia, after an unsuccessful
effort at a more favorable settlement. All the other
confederate forces in the field also surrendered, and the
great civil war came to an end. The news was received
with an outburst of joy at the north. Mr. Lincoln had
begun his second term on March 4, 1865. At that time
the end of the struggle was plainly near, and the presi-
<3entiQ his inaugural address had already expressed the
hope that there would be a reconciliation between the
two sections. He said: "With malice toward none,
•with charity for all, with firmness in the right as God
gives us to see the right, let us strive to finish the work
we are in, to bind up the nation's wounds, to care for
him who shall have borne the battle, and for his widow
and for his orphans; to do all which may achieve and
cherish a just and a lasting peace among ourselves and
■with all nations."
Surrender
of John-
eton.
297. The public rejoicings over the capture of Rich- .'i---asBiu»
mond were clouded by the death of the wise and noble i'"", °L
Lincoln. He had gone to Ford s theater on the evening
of April 14. and was sitting in his box, when an actor
named J. Wilkes Booth entered unperceived and shot
the president through the head, crying: "The south is
avenged. Sic semper tyrannis." Almost at the same
time one of Booth's accomplicesnamed Payne attempted
to assassinate Secretary Seward, who was ill at home, Seward
and wounded him seriously but not fatally. There had
been a plot on the part of some desperate characters
when the confederacy fell, to destroy the leaders of the
federal government, but their plans were accomplished
in part only. The chief parties implicated perished
miserably. Booth and Payne escaped for a time, but
were soon caught. Booth was killed while resisting
arrest. Payne and three others were hanged, and
several persons concerned in the plot ware sentenced to
imprisonment. The president lingered a few hours,
and died without giving any sign of consciousness. His
death caused the deepest sorrow, not only in the north,
but in the south as well, and throughout all the civil-
ized world. He had won the abiding love and trust of
the people, and his name will forever be linked with
that of Washington; for he was in many ways the
second founder of his country.
298. .Jefferson Davis, while trying to escape, was jeffersoe
captured by a detachment of General J. H. Wilson's Dsrts.
cavalry at Irwinsville, Georgia, and was sent to For-
tress Monroe. Here he was confined a close prisoner
for a long time on charge of treason. He was at last
liberated on bail furnished by Horace Greeley and
others, and all proceedings against him were finally
abandoned. In fact, the glorious triumph of the
government of the United States was in no wise sullied
by any dismal executions for treason. The assassina-
tion of Lincoln checked for a time the movement which
had already begun for the restoration of the seceding
states. People who had been ready in their joy to make
peace with those who had been leaders in the con-
federacy now were ready to believe that the spirit
which had brought on the war was unchanged. There
was a demand that the laws against treason, passed by
Congress during the heat of the war, in 1862, should be
rigidly enforced. These laws prescribed that the
punishment of treason and rebellion should be death,
or fine and imprisonment. But a wiser judgment pre-
vailed. There was no hanging for treason. The leaders
of the confederacy were never brought to trial. The
president of the confederate states was suffered to go
free; and the vice-president, before his death, became
an efficient and respected member 'n the Congress of
the United States. For a long time._ however, all
persons who had previously taken oath of allegiance
to the federal government, and then had broken it by
joining the confederacy, were debarred from holding
any office under the government of the United States.
299. At the close of the war the federal armies num- Nmnher
bered about 1,000.000 men, of whom nearly 600,000"^ luer. in
were present in the field. The number of confederate"^™'*'-
soldiers surrendered and paroled was, 174.000. besides
whom there were 63.000 prisoners in the hands of the
Federals. The whole number of men who served on
the union side during the war was about 1,500.000. Of
these, 96,000 were killed, 184.000 died of disease while
in the service; many thousands more died of wounds or
sickness after being discharged. ThS armies of the
confederacy are supposed to have reached their strongest
point at the beginning of 1863, when they numbered
about TOO, 000. There was great dissatisfaction among
the southern people at the manner in which Jefferson
Davis conducted the war; and the arbitrary attempts of
the confederate government to force men into the ranks,
aroused, at last, a spirit of opposition. During the
latter part of the war desertions had become very fre-
quent; and this fact, taken in connection with the losses
ISi
U X I T E D STATES
confed-
erate
dances.
The 13t6
amend
ment.
in battle, and from disease, caused a great reduction in
the numerical force, so that at the end of the struggle,
it is doubtful whether the confederate armies contained
more than 200,000 men. As soon as possible after
organized resistance had ceased, the Federal armies
began to be disbanded. The men were discharged at
the rate of about 300.000 a month, 50.000 being retained
in service as a standing army.
300. The expenses^ of the Federal government
amounted at one time to three andahalf million dollars
a day. By August 81 . 1865, the whole debt had reached
its maximum, amounting to about $'.2,845,907,626. Some
$800,000,000 of revenue had also been spent mainly on
the war. Beside the regular outlay by the govern-
ment enormous sums were spent by states, cities,
counties and towns, in bounties to volunteers, and by
the sanitary commissions and other societies for the
comfoit of sick and wounded soldiers, and for the
whole army in general. The expenses of the confeder-
ate government can never be known. Its debt was
estimated at about $2,000,000,000, but this was wiped
out by the failure of the confederacy, all its bonds and
notes becoming worthless. The amount of property
destroyed by the union and confederate armies can
scarcely be estimated, and the money value ($2,000,-
000,000,) of the slaves in the south fell a sacrifice to
the war. In the United States funds were raised by
the sale of bonds, the issue of paper money, of "green-
backs,'' and the imposition of heavy taxes, including
for some years a tax on incomes. The notes became
grea>ly depreciated, so that in July. 1864, the price of
gold in paper currency was nearly three dollars. Gold
and silver almost disappeared from circulation.
301. The finances of the confederacy were in a ruin-
ous condition long before the end of the war. It could
make no drafts on the future, by bond issues, and it
was a very diflicult matter to find purchasers for south-
em bonds. As expenses increased, they had to be met
by paper issues, and each issue was accompanied by a
corresponding decline in value, until a dollar in coin
was worth fifty dollars in paper. Large sums were
required to buy even the most necessary articles.
Boots were worth two hundred dollars; shoes, one
hundred and twenty-five dollars; coats, three hundred
and fifty dollars; pantaloons, more than one hundred
dollars; flour, two hundred and seventy dollars per
barrel; potatoes, twenty to twenty-five dollars per
bushel; bacon, ten dollars per pound; meal, sixty-five
to seventy-five dollars per bushel; butter, sixteen dol-
lars per pound. Other things were proportionately
high in price; luxuries of all kinds had disappeared,
and almost the entire population was reduced to ex-
treme poverty,
VIII. — THE KESTORATIOX OF THE UXION.
302. At the beginning of the war the greater part of
the northern people was opposed to any interference
with slavery, and the federal government announced
its determination not to meddle with the question. But
the progress of the war compelled it to a different
course. Hence, firs*, came the Proclamation of Eman-
cipation; then in February, 1865, congress passed the
thirteenth amendment to the constitution, abolishing
slavery in the United States forever. After the war
was over the first wish of those who had been most
prominent in patting down the confederacy was that
the union should be restored as quickly as possible to
its former state, with the exception of slavery. It was
to be many jears. however, before the warring sections
of the union could be transformed into a harmonious
nation. The war had devastated the country in which
it had been engaged. The people on each side had
suffered in the loss of friends, home and property, and
could not at once be reconciled. The great change
which had taken place in the abolition of sla 'ery
reachea to the verj' foundations of southern society and
industry.
303. Upon the death of Mr. Lincoln, Vice-President
Johnson succeeded to the office of president, and to the
difficult task of the reconstruction of the rebellious
states. He had been selected by the republican party
as representing the union men of the south. He was
not, however, in full sympathy with the Republicans,
and it soon became evident that there was a breach
between the president and Congress, which constantly
widened. The first business engaging the attention of
the government after the restoration of peace was the
establishments of regular governments in the southern
states. The president issued various proclamations, in
which he declared all southern ports open to commerce
except four in Texas, and granted amnesty and pardon
to all persons engaged in the rebellion, except fourteen
specific classes of leaders, who were to make special
applications for pardon. About the manner of restor-
ing the state governments, however, a serious quarrel
arose between the president and Congress. The con-
stitution made no provision for the readmission of a
state which had withdrawn from the union, and Mr.
Johnson, as a former states -right Democrat, held tha;
the southern states had never been out of the union;
that the leaders were solely responsible; that as soon as
the seceded states applied for readmission uilder such a
form of government as the constitution required, the
federal government was bound to admit them withou'
imposing conditions upon subjects over which the con
stitution had not expressly given Congress jurisdiction.
The Republican leaders held that the action of the
seceded states had deprived them of their rights as
members of the union; that in the relation they now
occupied they were in the category of territories seek-
ing admission to the union, in which case Congress
could admit or reject them at will. The particular
question which brought on the controversy was the
civil status of the negro. The Republicans held that
slavery had been the cause of the war; that it was now
abolished; and that only by giving the freedman the
right to vote could he be protected, and the results of
the war secured. They also claimed that no state
should be admitted until it tad granted the right of
suffrage to the negroes within its borders. Johnson
held this to be a matter of internal regulation beyond
the control of Congress.
304. When Johnson succeeded to the presidency in
April, 1865, he had a clear field before him. for con-
gress was not to meet until December. From May 9
to Julj' 13 he appointed provisional governors for seven
states, whose duties were to reorganize the govern-
ments. The state governments were organized, but
passed such stringent laws in reference to the negroes
that the Republicans declared it was a worse form of
slavery than the old. When Congress met in Decem-
ber, 1865, it was very largely Republican and firmly
determined to protect the negro against outrage and
oppression. The first breach between the president
and the party in power was the veto of the first Freed-
men's Bureau bill in February, 1866, which was
designed for the welfare of the colored people. President
Johnson objected that it had been passed by a congress
in which the southern states had no representatives.
The bill failed to pass by a two-thirds vote. Congress
then passed acivil right's bill in March, 1866, by which
freedmen were made citizens of the United States, and
United States officers were instructed to protect these
rights in the courts. The president vetoed this bill
also, thr objection being that it interfered with the
rights of the states. This bill was passed over the
veto. To make the bill stronger, Congress adopted the
Fourteenth Amendment to the constitution (June 16).
and submitted it to the states, the necessary majority
of which ratified it. Both houses then passed a joint
resolution that no delegation from any of the states
,T»ibn?or ae
prepidoDi.
v^narrei
benveei. *hv
prepidei 1
and Cot,
Freedmen e
Bnrenobill.
Civilright" »
bill.
The Fonr-
teerth
amend-
ment.
UNITED STATES
785
cT Ne-
braska
Tenuit of
OiiicebllL
Impeach-
ment of the
jKeidenu
Ala°ka.
Kerada
and Ne-
braska.
•^Tant's
Ble^tioD
lately in rebellion ghould be received by either the
senate or the house until both united in declaring said
state a member of the union.
305. The president disapproved of these measures,
and there was now open hostility between the execu-
tive and congress. In February, 1867, a bill was passed
admitting Nebraska as a state, with the provision that
it should never enact any law denying the right of
suffrage to any person becai'se of his color or race. This
was vetoed, and passed over the veto. On March 2,
1867, the " bill to provide efficient governments for the
insurrectionary states," which embodied the congres-
lional plan of reconstruction, was passed over the
president's veto. This bill divided the southern states
into military districts, each under a brigadier general,
who was to preserve order and exercise all the func-
tions of government until the citizens had formed a
state government, ratified the amendments, and been
admitted to the union. On the same day the Tenure
of Office bill was passed over the veto. This provided
that civil officers should remain in office until the con-
firmation of their successors ; that the members of Ibe
cabinet should be removed only with the consentof the
senate; that, while Congress was not in session the
president might suspend (not remove) anj' official ; and
in case the senate at the next session should not ratify
the suspension, the suspended official should resume
his office.
306. On August 5, 1867, the president had requested
Edwin M. Stanton to resign bis office as secretary of
war. Mr. Stanton refused, was suspended, and General
Grant was appointed to his place. When congress met,
the senate refused to agree to Stanton's removal.
General Grant then resigned the office, and Stanton
%gain took possession. The president removed him a
second time, and appointed General Lorenzo Thomas
to the place. Stanton held to his office, and sent notice
'.othe speaker of the house ; thereupon the house passed
4 resolution (February 24, 1868), for the impeachment
of the president. The articles of impeachment accused
hum of disobeying the tenure of office law, and of various
other offences. The trial took place according to the
constitution, members of the house appearing as
accusers, and the senate acting as judges, with Chief
Justice Chase, of the supreme court, in the chair. After
the trial began the president made a tour of the north
and west, and delivered many violent and passionate
speeches to the crowds which assembled to meet him,
and denounced the congress then sitting as "nocon-
•rress." because of its refusal to admit delegations from
the southern states. On these speeches the house
based additional articles of impeachment. The excit-
ing trial lasted two months, and ended in May with a
(rote of thirty-five for conviction, and nineteen for
acquittal. Thus there was not a two-thirds majority
for conviction. The senate adjourned tine die, and a
verdict of acquittal was entered.
307. The Russian possessions in North America, com-
prising a large and thinly populated territory at the
northwest corner of the continent, were purchased of
the Russian government by the United States in 1867
for the sum of $7,200,000. This territory is known as
Alaska. Nevada, the thir'y-siith state, was admitted
during Mr. Lincoln's administration (1864); Nebraska,
the thirty-seventh, was admitted in 1867. In 1868 Gen-
eral Grant was elected president, as the candidate of
the Republican part}', thus sealing the process of the
reconstruction; Schuyler Colfax became vice-president.
The Democratic candidates were Horatio Seymour, of
New York, and Frank P. Blair, of Missouri. Virginia,
Mississippi and Texas were the only states of the late
confederacy which were excluded from this election;
all the rest had been reconstructed and admitted by
Congress in June, 1868. The Republican candidates
carried twenty-six of the thirty-four voting states. In
his inaugural address. General Grant declared that the
2^—28
government bonds ought to be paid in gold, advocated
a speedy return to specie payments, and made many
important recommendations in reference to public af-
fairs. Regarding the good faith of the nation, he said:
"To protect the national honor, every dollar of the
government's indebtedness should be paid in gold, un-
less otherwise expressly stipulated in the contract."
Congress acted promptly upon his recommendation, and
on Slarch 18. 1869. an act was passed, entitled "An
Act tostrengthen the public credit." Its language gave
a pledge to the world that the debts of the country
would be paid in coiu, unless there were in the obliga-
tions express stipulations to the contrarv.
308. On February 26, 1869, the Fifteenth Amendment
to the constitution was passed by Congress. Its adop-
tion had been previously recommended by Grant. It
guaranteed the right of suiirage without regard to race,
color, or previous condition of servitude. It was rati-
fied by the requisite three-fourths of the states, and de-
clared in force March 30, 1870. In the meantime the
foreign affairs of the country had been favorably estab-
lished. Its promptness in disarming at the end of the
war had put it under no disadvantage in dealing with
other nations. The successful completion of the At-
lantic cable (1866) gave a promptness and dispatch to
diplomacy which was well suited to American methods.
The most important measure of foreign policy during
President Grant's administration was the treaty with
Great Britain (May 8. 1871). known as the Treaty of'Wash-
ingion. Soon after entering upon his office, the presi-
dent had begun negotiations, looking to a settlement of
the claims made by the United States against Great Bri-
tain, arising from the depredations upon American com-
merce by confederate cruisers fitted out in British ports,
the questions growing out of the Canadian fishery dis-
putes, and the location of our northern boundary line
at its junction with the Pacific ocean, which the juris-
diction of the island of San Juan in controversy.
309. A high joint commission had assembled at
Washington, composed of American and English
statesmen, which formulated the Treaty of Washington,
and by its terms the claims against Great Britain, com-
monly known as the "Alabama claims," were referred
to a court of arbitration, which held its session at
Geneva, Switzerland. In September. 1872, it awarded
the United States the sum of $15,500,000, which was
subsequently paid by the British government. The
fishery question was referred to arbitration by three
commissioners, one to be chosen by the United States,
one by Great Britain, and the third by the other two,
provided they should m;ike a choice within a stated
time, otherwise the selection to be made by the
Emperor of Austria. The two commissioners having
failed to agree, the third was named by the Emperor of
Austria. The award was unsatisfactory to the United
States. The decision of the commission was severely
criticised by the people and the press, and the dispute
has been reopened since from time to time, to the detri-
ment of both countries. The San Juan question was
referred to the Emperor of Germany as arbitrator with
sole power. His award fully sustained the claim of the
United States.
310. President Grant's first administration had been
vigorous and progressive, but a number of Republicans
had become estranged, feeling that they were being
ignored by the executive. These persons formed them-
selves into an organization under the name of Liberal
Republicans. This opposition resulted in the nomination
of Horace Greeley for president, and B. Gratz Brown
for vice-president, by the Liberal party (1872). These
nominations were afterwards adopted by the Demo-
cratic party. The republican convention renominated
President Grant, with Henry Wilson as nominee foi
vice-president. When the election took place Grant
carried thirty-one states with a popular vote of
3,597,070, the largest that had ever been given for any
Act (o
streugCjal \
thepa.;ii3
credit
The XV th
amendiceK (
Treaty of
Washicg-
lon.
The Aiaba.
ma clalnis.
The usherj
question.
San Jcr.3. ,
LilwriuRe-i
putaitjaue, *
786
UNITED STATE !S
Hf«Jeetion
/r 5■■^'-t,
trot, jlee m
tbt J3tL-Ltl.
president. He received 286 electoral votes, against 66
which would have been cast for Mr. Greeley had he
lived. The noted journalist, however, died soon after
the ejection. The canvass had been one of the most
exciting and aggressive in the history of the country,
and abounded in personal attacks on the candidates.
During i-resident Grant's first term of ofiice the work
of reconstruction according to the plan settled by
Congress had been steadily carried out. and by July,
1870, the work had been accomplished, and all the
states were again members of the union, although the
votes of Arkansas and Loui.>ianawere not received by
Congress in 1872, because of fraud and illegality in the
elec'ion.
311 The relations between the United States and
Spain were frequently disturbed by incidents growing
out of an insurrection in Cuba, which had lasted for a
number of years. Several American citizens had been
arrested by the Spanish authorities, under the pretense
that they had been furnishing aid to the insurgents,
and American vessels plying in Cuban waters had been
subjected to much inconvenience. Matters at length
culminated in the seizure by Spain (October, 1873),
without justification. of the American steamer Virgirdua.
This outrage created intense excitement in the United
States, and many statesmen were clamorous for war;
but the president took more pacific measures, and, by
acting with promptness and firmness, soon wrung from
Spain ample apology and full separation. Political
troubles were stili rife in certain states of the south.
In March, 1871, the disorders in the southern states,
growing out of the conflicts between the whites and
the negroes, hail assumed such proportions that the
president sent a .•■pecial message to Congress requesting
"such legislation as shall effectually secure life, liberty
and properly, aud the enforcement of law in all parts
of the United States." On April 20 Congress passed
an act which authorized the president to suspend, under
defined circumstances, the writ of habeas corpus in any
district, and to ure the army and navy in suppressing
insurrections. He issued a proclamation (May 4). order-
ing all unlawful armed bands to disperse, and after
expressing his reluctance to use theextraordinary power
conferred upon him, said he would "not hesitate to use
that power to its full extent, whenever and wherever it
should be neces^ ary to do so for the purpose of securing
to all citizens the peaceful enjoyment of the rights
guaranteed to them by the constitution and the laws of
the United States. " As this did not produce the desired
effect, he issued a proclamation of warning (Octobei
12), and on October 17 suspended the writ of habeas
corpus in parts of North and South Carolina. He
followed thia by vigorous prosecutions, which resulted
in fending a number of prominent offenders to prison,
and the outrages soon ceased.
312. Soon after President Grant entered upon his
second term of office, the disputes in Louisiana con-
jerDing the result of the election in 1872 became more
oilier, and armed violence was threatened in that state.
Early in l5i73 the president called the attention of Con-
gress to the inadequacy of the laws applying to such
cases, saying i hat he had recognized the officers installed
by the decinion nf the retuming-board as representing
the de facto government, and if he had exercised undue
interference by fuch a course he urged Congress to an
immediate decision in regard to the matter. Congress,
however, took no action, and left with the president
the sole responsibility of dealing with this delicate
question. The next year the difSculty was reneved
and a fierce contest arose between the Republicans
tinder Kellogg, and the Democrats under JIcEaery,
the respective candidates of the two jjarties Tor the
goveniorship, which resulted in armea hostilities. Kel-
fogg, 'ie de facto governor, called upon the federal
government for protection, which it immediately
granted by sending troops thither, and the outbreak
was for a time suppressed. But troubles again arose,
and General Sheridan was sent to report upon the situa-
tion of affairs, and if ntoessary, to take command of
the troops and adopt vigorous measures to preserve the
peace. Sheridan became convinced that his duty was
to sustain the government of Kellogg, and on the de-
mand of the governor he ejected some of McEnery's
adherents from the state capitol. As Congresf still
omitted to tahe any action in the case, the president
continued his recognition of the government, of which
Kellogg was the head, until the election of a new gov-
ernor. After this there was no serious trouble. Dif-
ficulties of the same nature arose in Arkansas and
Texas, which were almost as perplexing to the execu-
tive as those in Louisiana; but these attracted less at-
tention from ihe people.
313. In April, 1874, Congress passed a bill known as
the "Inflation bill," which increased the paper cur-
rency of the country, and was contrary to the financial
policy which the president had maintained and ad-
vocated in his state papers. Strenuous efforts were
made by his warmest political supporters to convince
him that the measure was financially wise and poll
tically expedient. President Grant gave much thought
and study to the question, and at length fully decided
that the measure would in the end prove injurious to
the true business interests of the country, and delay
the resumption of specie paj-ment. He. therefore, re-
turned the bill to Congress with his veto (April 22).
The arguments contained in his message were unan-
swerable, the bill was not passed over his veto, and his
course was sustained by the whole country. The presi-
dent now earnestly advocated the resumption of specie
payment. In a letter addressed to Senator Jones, of
Xevada, he gave a full statement of his views on the
question. Thi« letter was made public, and attracted
muca attention; and in January, 1875. the resumption
act Tvas passed, which to a large extent embodied the
views that had been suggested by the president. There
were doubts in the minds of many as to the ability of
the government to carry it into effect: but it proved
entirely successful, and the country was finally relieved
from the stigma of circulating an irredeemable paper
currency.
314 Great trouble was caused soon after the close of
the war by the depredations of the Indian tribes of the
west and southwest. The Sioux and Cheyennes having
begun hostilities.an expedition was sent out against them
under the direction of General Hancock in 1867, and
another, in 1868, beyond the Arkansas river, where
General Custer gained an important victory. In an
expedition against the Modocs of Oregon, in 1873, Gen-
eral Canby was treacherously murdered during a parley
with the Indian chiefs. The Sioux had ceded to the
United States a large tract of country in what was then
Dakota territorj-, reserving to themselves the district
known as the Black Hills. When it was rumored thai
gold had been found on their reservation, the whites
began to push into this region, regardless of the rights
of the Indians. The Sioux were a warlike tribe, and
they retaliated by attacking the frontier settlements in
Montana and Wyoming. United States troops were
sent out against them, but met at first with a terrible
disaster. In June, 1876. General Custer, with about
two hundred and fifty soldiers, was surprised and the
entire force massacred. The war lasted into the wintei
of 187' when the Sioux, with their chiefs, Sitting BuU
and Crazy Horse, went across the border into Britis)
territory.
315. During 1875. the president had reason to suspect
that frauds were being practiced b> government officials
in certain states, in collecting the revenue derived from
the manufacture of whiskey. He at once took active
measures for their detection, and the vigorous pursuit
and punishment of the offenders. He issued a stringeo'
order for their prosecution, closing with the famott
The
resniEDaok
Tndiaa
Mnrder Tk
Canby.
BUek juiC
rhL«l»r-
UNITED STATES
787
flie cen-
tenary of
n-f.epen-
C€!.ce.
Blection
atia76.
Tte Hayei
tlStlOD.
words, " Let no gui.ty man escape." Many indictments
goon followed; the ringleaders wt- re sent to the iieoiten-
tiary, and an honest collection of the revenue was secured.
The year for nominating a president was at hand, and
the excitement ran high. Friends of the convicted,
political enemies and rivals for succession in his own
party, resorted to the most des-(ierate means to break
the president's power and diminish his pooularity.
The grossest misrepresentations were practiced, first in
trying to bring into question the honesty of his purpose
in the prosecution of offenders, and afterward in
endeavoring to rob him of the credit of his labors,
which had resulted in the purifying of the revenue
service. But these efforts signallj' failed. In 18T6 the
United States celebrated the one hundredth anniver-
sary of the Declaration of Independence. There were
great rejoicings throughout the country, and the
various battles of the revolution, as well as the signing
of the Declaration, were commemorated by appropriate
exercises. The centennial year was chosen for holding
a great international exhibition at Philadelphia, to
which all the nations of the world were invited to con-
tribute. It was opened in May and closed in November,
having been visited by about ten millions of people.
316. The changes at the south, and the dissatisfac-
tion of many at the north with the rule of the Repub-
lican managers, were seen in the election of 1876. The
Democrats nominated Samuel J. Tilden and Thomas
A. Hendricks for president and vice-president; and the
Republicans, Rutherford B. Hayes and William A.
Wheeler. A national Greenback convention was also
held. May 17, composed of men who desired national pa-
per money instead of national bank notes, and who
opposed resumption of specie payments. It nominated
Peter Cooper and Samuel F. Gary. The contest was very
close, and a dispute arose as to the counting of the
votes of certain southern states, both sides claiming
them. The controversy was finally settled by the
appointment of an electoral commission of fifteen,
eight of which deciJed in favor of Mr. Hayes. In this
year, Colorado, the thirty-eighth state (and the last up
to 1887) was admitted in time to take part in the
election.
s 317. The administration of President Hayes, although
much attacked by the politicians of both parties, was
on the whole, very satisfactory to the people at large.
By withdrawing the federal troops from southern
state houses, and restoring to the people of those states
practical self-government, it prepared the way for that
patriotism among those lately estranged from the union,
that fraternal feeling between the two sections of the
country, and the wonderful material advancement of
the south wbich we now witness. It conducted with
wisdom and firmness the preparation for the resump-
tion of specie payments, as well as the funding of the
public debt at lower rates of interest, and thus facil-
itated the development of the remarkable business
prosperity which continued to its close. While in its
endeavors to effect a thorough and permanent reform
of the civil service, there were conspicuous lapses and
inconsistencies, it accomplished important and lasting
results. Not only without any appropriations of
money, and without encouragement of any kind from
Congress, but in the face of the decided hostility of a
large majority of its members, the system of competi-
tive examinations was employed in some of the execu-
tive departments at Washington, and in some of the
great government offices in New York, thus proving
its practicability and usefulness. The removal by
President Hayes of some of the most powerful partv
managers from their offices, avoweilly on the ground
that the oflBces had been used as part of the political
machinery, was an act of high courage, and during his
administration there was far less meddling with party
politics on the part of the government officials than at
any period i^nce Andrew Jackson's time.
318. The financial condition of the United States had
been steadily improving since the war. A few months
after the onclu-iou of peace the public debt had
reached its highest amount, $2,800,000,000, and by the
close of President Hayes' administration no less than
one thousand million dollars of that amount had been
paid off. The credit of the government rose, and the
paper money, once worth only a third of its denomina-
tion iq gold, increased in value. The operation of
refunding the debt had been begun July 14, 1870. At
that time Congress pass -d au act authorizing the issue
of five, four and a half, and four per cent bonds to
take the place of those at higher interest. $.500,000,000
were issued in five per cent bonds, $185,000,000 in four
and one half per cent, and $710,345,950 at four per
cent, thus reducing the annual interest charge from
$81,639,684 to $61,738,838. This first refunding opera-
tion was completed in the year 1879, at the time when
specie payments were resumed. In 1881 about $200,-
000,000 of six per cent bonds fell due. Mr. Windom,
secretary of the treasury, took the responsibility of
allowing the holders of the bonds to exchange them
for three and one half per cent bonds, reilet-mable at
the pleasure of the government. Holders of other
bonds to the amount of $300,000,000 also avail<-d them-
selves of this privilege, thus saving $10,000,000 inter-
est. In 1875 Congress passed a law providing that the
paper "fractional currency" used for small cLange
should be redeemed at once in silver, and that after the
1st of January, 1879, the "greenbacks" should be paid
on demand in coin.
319. At the elections of 1880 the Republican candi-
dates were General James A, Garfield for president,
and General Chester A. Arthur for vice-president;
while the Democrats nominated General Winfield S.
Hancock and William E. English. The Republican
ticket was successful, receiving the electoral votes (214
in number) of all the northern states except California
— whic'i was divided — Nevada and New Jersey. The
Democratic electoral vote was 155 including 11 from
Georgia, which, not having been cast on the day
appointed by law, were objected to when the returns
were opened. As they could not effect the result the
question whether they should be counted or not was
never decided. The new administration was inau.sur-
ated March 4, 1881, and the scramble for office which
had marked each advent to the presidency since 1829,
followed. There was bitter dissension in the party in
New York over the distribution of offices. The New
York senators, feeling aggrieved at certain appoint-
ments in their stale, resigned, and then made efforts to
be re-elected by their stale legislature, in which they
failed. In the midst of it all President Garfield was
shot (July 3. 1881) by a crazy disappointed office-seeker.
The avowed object was to promote to the presidential
chair Vice-President Arthur, who represented the
Grant or "stalwart" wing of the party. The president
was not instantly killed. For three months he lay
helpless, while the nation watched anxiously every
turn in his condition. The sympathy shown by all
parts of the country did much to draw the nation
together and to lessen the old distrust, Garfield died
September 19, 1881, and was succeeded by Vice-Presi-
dent Arthur.
320. The prominent events of President Arthur's
administration may be here summarized. Shortly after
his accession to the presidency he participated in the
dedication of the monument erected at Yorktown, Va.,
to commemorate the surrender of Lord Coruwallis at
that place, Oct. 19. 1781. A convention was made
with Mexico (July 29, 1"82) for re-locating the boundary
between that country and the United States from the
Rio Grande to the Pacific, and on the same day an
agreement was also effected permitting the armed forces
of either country to cross the frontier in pursuit of hos-
tile Indians. The death of President Garfield called
Financial
condition.
Refnridine
the a*.- til.
Electlaa
of issa
Oarfleid'B
u-^ar «in^
Arthnr*
bdmixiit
trat ■«
T88
UNITED STATES
Chmege
immigra-
tion bill.
Convict
law.
Repeal of
of etamp
taxef.
National
banks.
Uerchant
Ziarine bill
and bureau
of naviga-
tion
U«dnction
of letter
poetage.
French
spoliation
claims.
Election
of !(«M.
general attention to that reprehensible system under
which each party, while in office, had paid its party
expenses by the use of minor offices for its adherents.
The president's power of appuintraent could not be
controlled; but the Pendleton Act (1883) permitted the
president to mike appointments to designated classes
of offices on the recommendation of a board of civil
service commissioners. From the British government
a full recogniticin of the rights and immunities of nat-
uralizf'd American citizens of Irish oritiin was obtained,
and all such who were under arrest in England or Ire-
land as suspects were liberated. A bill passed by Con-
gress prohibiting the immigration of Chinese laborers
for a term of twenty years was vetoed (April 4. 1882),
as being a violation of the treaty of 1880 with China,
which permiUcd the limitation or suspension of immi-
gra'ion, but forbade its absolute prohibition. The
veto .was sustained, and a modified bill, suspending
immigration for ten years, was passed. May 6, 1882,
which received the executive approval. A law was
passed (August 3, 1882) for returning convicts to
Europe, and on February 26, 1885, importation of con-
tract laborers was forbidden.
321. The suspension of the coinage of standard silver
dollars and the redemption of the trade dollars were
repeatedly recommended; also, the repeal of the stamp
taxes on matches, proprietary articles, playing cards,
bank checks, drafts, and of the tax on surplus bank
capital and deposits. These taxes were repealed by
act of congress (March 3, 1883); and by executive order
of June 2.'5, 1883, the number of internal revenue col-
lection districts was reduced from 126 to 83. The tax
on tobacco was reduced by the same act of congress.
On July 12. 1882, an act became law enabling the
national bauk.'^, which were then completing their
twenty year terms, to extend their corporate existence.
The attention of Congress was frequently called to the
decline of the American merchant marine, and legisla-
tion was recommended for its restoration, and the con-
struction and maintenance of ocean steamships under
the United States flag. In compliance with these
recommendations, the following laws were enacted :
June 26, 1884, an act to remove certain burdens from
American shipping; July 5, 1884, an act creating a
bureau of navigation, under charge of acommission, in
the treasury department; and Marrh3, 1885, an amend-
ment to the postal appropriation bill granting $800,000
for contracting with American steamship lines for the
transportation of foreign mails.
322. The reduction of letter postage from three to two
cents was recommended, and was effected by the act of
March 3, 1883; the unit of weight was made (March 3,
1885) one ounce instead of a half ounce; the rate on
transient newspapers and periodicals was reduced (June
9, 1884.) to one cent for four ounces, and the rate on
similar matter, when sent by the publisher to actual
subscribers, was reduced to one cent a pound (March
3, 1885). The fast mail and free delivery systems were
largely extended. Special letter deliveries were estao-
li^hed March 3, 1885. The star service at the west was
increased at reduced cost; the foreign mail service
improved; and various postal conventions were
negotiated. A law for the adjudication of the French
spoliation claims was passed (January 20, 1885), and
preparations made for carrying it into effect. On
Miiren 3, 1885, a bill was passed retiring General
Grant with lh« rank of general of the army, and with
full pay.
323. In 1884 the Republicans nominated James Q.
Blaiiie and General John A. Logan, and the Democrats
Cleveland and Hendricks. The greenback an<l anti-
monopolist parties put forward the name of Benjamin
F. Builer. The prohibitionists, also, had organized
themselves into a party, and presented as their candi-
iate Governor St, John. A small majority of the
lemocratic candidates in the state of New York gave
*^hip.'
them its electoral votes, and decided the election in eheir
favor. They were inaugurated March 4, 1885. The
president announced in regard to official changes that, ClevelandV
with the exceptions of heads of departments, foreign fr'l,'",^""'
ministers, and other officcH charged with the execution
of the policy of the administration, no removals would
take place except for cause. He therefore came into
conflict with many influential members of his party
who advocated the speedy removal of Republican office-
holders ana the appointment of Democrats, in order to
strengthen the party as a political organization. While
that class of politicians objected to the slowness
with which removals were made, and to the appoint-
ment of independents, and in a few instances Republi-
cans, the Republicans and some of the civil service
reformers complained of other appointments as not
being in accord with the professions of the president.
He declared "offensive partisanships" to be a ground "OflenslTe
for removal; and numerous Republican function- f"''?-""'
aries were displaced under that rule, while the term '
itself became a by-word. On March 13, 1885, the presi-
dent issued a proclamation announcing the intention of
the government to remove from the C'iklahoma country, oiilahocia
in Indian territory, the while intruders who sought to ':°'"it''y-
settle there, which was done shortly afterwards by a
detachment of soldiers.
324. In his message at the opening of the XLIXth Con-
gress, December 8, 1885. President Cleveland recom-
mended the abolition of duties on works of art, the
reduction of the tariff on necessaries of life, the sus-
pension of compulsory silver coinage, more stringent
laws for the suppression of polygamy in Utah, an act
to prohibit the immigration of Mormons, and the ex-
tension of the civil service reform. In January. 1886.
Congress passed the bill regulating the presidential sue- Presidential
cession in the event of a vacancy. Mr. ClevelanrI 'fcceasiou.
exercised the veto power beyond all precedent. Of 987
bills pasted by both houses in the session ending
Augusts, 1886, 115 were vetoed. Of these 102 were
private pension bills, and six were bills for the erection
of public buildings. Of the general measures which
failed to receive his signature, the most important was
the Morrison resolution requiring the secretary of the
treasury to apply to the redemption of bonds any sur
plus to the treasury exceeding $100,000,000. The river
and harbor bill, containing appropriations, deemed by
many useless and extravagant, and the bill taxing oleo-
margarine two cents a pound, which was considered an
unjust discrimination against one class of producers
for the benefit, of another, were not vetoed. On signing
the latter, the president sent a message to Congress, in
which he gave as his reason that the stamps required
by the act would mark the character of the substance
and prevent it being fraudulently sold.
325. The presidential campaign of 1888 was noted Election
for the number of candidates in the field, who were as °f ''^^
follows: Republican, Benjamin Harrison and Levi P.
Morton; Democratic, Grover Cleveland (renominated)
and Allen G. Thurman; prohibition, Clinton B. Fisk
and John A. Brooks; union labor, A. J. Streeter and
Charles E. Cunningham; industrial reform, Albert E.
Redstone and John Colvin; united labor, Robert E.
Cowdry and W. B.. T. Wakefield ; woman suf-
frai'ists, Belva A. Lockwood and Albert H. Love.
The main i.ssue between the twoleading parties. Repub-
lican and Democratic, was on the tariff question; the
former favoring a modified protected tariff, while the
latterdemanded a tariff chiefly for revenue. The prin-
ciples of the other parties related to labor, national
currency, prohibition and woman's suffrage. The Re-
publican party was succeseful, and Harrison as presi-
dent, with Morton as vice-president, was inaugurated
March 4, 1889. The administration of Mr. Harrison, Harrison's
thus far, has been characterized by the passage of^^nunis-
the MiKinley tariff bill, which both increases and "■''"°°-
diminishes the duties on many necessary articles
UNITED STATES
789
The cenfios
Hie
preeei't
nation .
I
■allwsys.
Telegraph
and tiie-
pboue lines
Atlantic
tele^aph.
and adds to the duties on luxuries, ami by the
regulation of pension matters. The invalid pension
bill has been passed, granting pensions to all disabled
soldiers without reference to the time when the disa-
bility was contracted. On the beginning of June, 1890.
the enumeration of the general census for the last
decade was begun, under the control of Superintendent
Porter, and the returns of the census enumerators give
the population of the United States at 63,250,000, which
is less than was anticipated. Many consider the returns
as imperfectly made.
32t). In the meanwhile the prosperity of the United
States has known no cessation. During the civil war
of 1861-1865, the emperor of France, Napoleon III.,
attempted to establish in Jlesico a foreign government
under Maximilian, an Austrian archdulse, aided by a
French army. The remonstrance of the United States
and the resolution of the Mexicans compelled Napoleon
to abandon the attempt. Maximilian was siezed by the
Mexicans and executed (1867). A new invasion of Mexico
from the United States was begun, but it was the peaceful
invasion of commerce. Railways were pushed down
along the great plateau whi :h reaches from the United
States into the heart of the country, making thus a
closer connection between th two peoples. In 1869
the first of the great railroads, the Central Pacific, was
finished, connecting the Atlantic and Pacific Oceans,
and opening the country to settlement and travel.
Since then other railroads have stretched their iron
bands across the continent. Of the 2'J0,000 miles of
railroad in the world, there are, probably, about 135,-
UOO miles in the United States. This country possesses,
also, more than 150,000 miles of telegraph lines; and
the American telephone lines are still longer in the
aggregate. In 1866, a previous attempt in 1857 having
failed, a telegraphic cable was laid upon the bed of the
Atlantic between America and Europe. This cable wa.",
followed by others, so that now the citizen of the
United States may know each day the principal events
which occur in the civilized world. The stimulus given
to new territory possessing the requisites for settlement
by the introduction of a new railway has been wonder-
ful beyond description. Most of the western railways
haveSad to build up their own traffic. The railway has
been mainly constructed under land grants from the
government, and the sales of these lands have brought
into existence the towns and even the states which
support it.
327. In the government reports of 1854 Nebraska
was described as a desert country totally unsuited for
agriculture, and in the maps of the time it was put
down as a part of the Great American Desert. It is
now one of the leading agricultural ttates of the union
New states with a population of over a million. Since the admis-
sion of Colorado in 1876 six other states have been
admitted to the union, namely. North and South
Dakota, Washington, Montana, Wyoming and Idaho.
There are yet five territories, including Alaska, not yet
organized into states, and the District of Columbia.
The mineral wealth of the country has become greatly
developed. A few years after the discovery of gold in
California the precious metal was found also at
Pike's Peak, Colorado (1858). Since then it has been
discovered in most of the Pacific states and territories.
In 1858 silver was discovered iu Nevada, and this metal
has been found widely distributed in the country
bordering on the Pacific coast. The extent of the vast
coal fields of the country has been pretty clearly ascer-
•tained. In 1883 it was estimated at over 200,000 square
PetrolentD miles. Petroleum was discovered in 18.59 in north-
western Pennsylvania, nume:us wells were sunk and
vast quantities of the oil have been taken from the
arth, but the reservoir seems to be unfailing. Manu-
facturing establishments of every variety have rapidly
increased in every part of the country. The absolute
free trade which exists between the states has resulted
Mineral
'vealtb.
Coal.
ttana-
>ctaies.
in a constant shifting of centers of production and an
increasing development. Among the nations of the
wCild, Great Britain, in 1870, stood first in wealth,
France the second and the United States the third.
In 1880 the United States had left France behind in
the race and stood at least second. When all the
census returns of 1890 shall be given they will doubtless
show that this country ranks with the first. The
United States, whose population has been developed
within less than three centuries, does already more than
one-third of the world's mining and one-fourth of its
manufacturing. It embraces also one-fifth of its agri-
culture.
328. In this wonderful progress and development the Tlieac ■!«»
soutn, since the close of the war, has borne her share.
Being relieved of the incubus of slavery she has come
up "through great tribulation" to assume her rightful
place as a most important factor in advancing the
prosperity of an undivided nation. Under the stimulus
of free labor her growth has been extraordinary. New
railroads have been built and new territory opened up.
Southern railways occupy a leading position in the
railway systems of the country. Southern manufact-
ures began to effect northern markets. Cotton mills
have been successfully established, which have the
advantage of an immediate contiguity to the cotton-
raising states. The great mineral fields, over which
contending armies fought fierce ba'tles during the late
war, have been brought to light a^id are being rapidly
developed. Pennsylvania iron-masters have a new
rival to contend with in the iron production of the
south. The former slave is now a free laborer, and the
white man is no longer ashamed to work. White
labor produced t»n per cent of the cotton crop of 1860
and fifty-five per cent of that of 1886. Under slavery,
cotton-seeds were waste material; in 1886 600,000 tons
of them were crushed, yielding a new production In
the form of cottonseed oil valued at $12,000,000 per
annum.
329. Among the political and economic questions Ciw:
demanding the attention of the government, no one of serviot
them is more important than the question of the reform ■'''''"^
of th civil service, but it is not avowedly made a party
question. Twenty years ago both parties Ipughed at
the idea of civil cervice reform, now each one makes a
show at least of treating it with respect, and the con-
trol of the immediate political future, probably lies
with the party which will treat it in the most serious and
practical manner. It is a question that was not dis-
tinctly foreseen in the days of Hamilton and Jeffer-
son, when the constitution was made and adopted,
otherwise the founders of the constitution might have
had something to say concerning it. The question as
to the civil service arises from the fact that the presi-
dent has the power of appointing a very large numbei
of petty officials, chiefly postmasters and officers con-
cerned with the collection of the goyernment revenue.
Such officials have properly nothing to do with politics;
they are simply the agents or clerks or servants of the
national government in conducting its business, and ii
this business is to be managed on the ordinary princi-
ples of prudence which prevail in the management ol
private business, such servants ought to be selected for
personal merit and retained for life or during good
behavior. In 1883 Congress passed the civil service The civii
act allowing the president to select a board of examin- ^""^ ""•
ers and make appointments upon their recommenda- °"
tion. Candidates for office are subjected to an easy
competitive examination. The system lias worked well
■n other countries, and under Presidents Arthur and
Cleveland it was applied successfully to a considerable
part of the civil service. It has also been adopted in
some of the states and principal cities of the union.
It is objected to by the opponents of reform, on the Objecttoiu
ground that its examinations are not always intimately
connected with the work of the office; but, even if
790
UNITED STATES
this were so, it removes the offices from the category of
things known as "patronage," and this alone endows
the system with great merit. Then again, it relieves
the president of much needless work and wearisome
importunity. The executive and heads of departments
appoint (in many cases through subordinates) about
115,000 officials. It is therefore impossible for the
principals to know much about the character or com-
petency of those appointed. It becomes necessary to
act by advice, and the advice of an examining board is
sure to be much better than that of political schemers
intent upon getting a salaried office for their needy
friends. The examination system has made a fair
beginning and will doubtless be gradually improved
and made more stringent. Something has been also
done toward stopping two old abuses attendant upon
political canvasses, namely, that of forcing government
clerks, under penalty of losing their places, to con-
tribute part of their salaries for election purposes, and
that of allowing them to neglect their work in order to
take an active part in the canvass.
, ,. 330. Another political reform promising excellent re-
AoBtralian suits is, the adoption by many states of some form of
ballot the Australian ballot-system, for the purpose of check
Byetem. j^g intimidation and bribery at elections. The ballots
are printed by the state, and contain the names of all
the candidates of all the parties. Against the name of
each candidate the party to which he belongs is de-
signated, and agains ; each name there is a small vacant
Bpace to be filled with a cross. At the polling place
the ballots are kept in an enclosure behind a railing and
no ballot can be brought outside under penalty of fine
or imprisonment. One ballot is nailed against the wall
outside the railing, so that it may be read at pleasure.
The space behind the railing is divided into separate
booths quite screened from each other, each booth is
provided with a pencil and a convenient shelf on which
to write. The voter goes behind the railing, takes the
ballot which is handed to him, carries it to one of the
booths, and marks a cross against the names of the
candidates for whom he votes. He then puts his ballot
into the box, and his name is checked ofE on the register
of voters of the precinct. This system is very simple;
and it enables a vote to be given in absolute secrecy.
It is favorable to independence in voting, and is unfavor-
able to bribery, because, unless the briber can follow
his man to the polls and see how he votes, he cannot
be sure that his bribe is effective. During the past few
years, complaints of bribery and corruption have at-
tracted especial attention in the United States, and it is
highly creditable to the good sense of the people that
preventive measures have been so promptly adopted by
many of the states. With an independent and uncor-
rupted ballot, and the civil service taken "out of poli-
tics," all other reforms will become far more easily ac-
complished.
But a very few of the works treating of the History of the United
States in ItH manifold phases can be here given, as they are so nu-
merous. Tht Histories of the Vnilni Stales, by George Bancroft,
David Ramsay, Richard Hildrelh, Bryant lligginson. Lossjng, Les-
ter, Frost, Schouler, Von Hoist, Kidpath, Ilamllton, Hassard, Gray,
Leeds ; American History, edited by Edward L. Knapp ; Gilman,
History of the American People ; U. H. Bancroft, Hmtory of the
Pacific Coast ; Willson, American History ; Hazard, Historical
Collections ; aicphen n. Newman. /iMfnVa ; Oilman, History of
the American People; Winsor, A'arratiee and Critical History;
Grah:im, History of the United Slates ; Parkman's n'orks ;
Ludinw. War o/' American Independence; Gordon, History of
the Jiid.iii iiden'ce nf the United States; Edward D. Neill, Mac-
AUlslir, College Contributions to American History; Gordon,
History of the American Revolution, lienisler of Debates in Con-
gress. Conqrissional Globe, Annals of Congress; Coles, History
of the Ordinance of 1787 ; Adams, New England Federalism.
1800-1.5; Greene, Historical View of the American Recoliition;
The American Commonwealth Series : Lodge, English Colonies
in America ; Carrlngton, Patties of the American Revolution ;
Neill, Eni/lish Colonization of America; Duyckinck. National
Portrait (';,illi ni ; Holmes. Annuls of America ; Marshall, History
oftheColunits'; VMtqs. History of Nen< England ; Story, Com-
menlarirs; Story, On t/ie Constitulion : Frnihint;liam, Rise of the
Bepublic ; .Harpers' Cyclnpudia of Amcricmi History; Apple-
ton's CycloplTdia of Am/rican Biography; John Kobort Ireland,
The Re/mbtic ; Hcotl. Coiislilnlional Liberty in t/ie Colnniis ; Bon-
ton, Thirty Years in the S-nnlc ; Irving, Life of Washington ;
9«nt Coimnentaries on Ariwrican Law ; Johnston, History of
A>MThan Politics ; Johnston, History of the United States ;
fieke, American Political Ideas ; Fiske, Civil Government in the
United States, Johns Hopkin's University^ Studies in History afut
Politics ; Howard, Local Constitutional History of the Unittd
States ; A. O. Wright, Constitution of the United States ; Brown-
son, American Republic ; Lamphere, American Government ; Wil-
son. Congressional Government ; Mansfield. The Political Manual;
Curtis, History of the Constitution ; J. D. Whitney. United States;
Tribune Almanac. McPherson. Political Manuals; Spofford,
American Almanac ; Fallows, The American Manual ; Congress-
ional Records ; Reports of theOfflcers of the Various States ; His-
tories of the Various States : Compendium of the Census from
18.50-1890 ; Cooper, Naval History ; Preble, History of the Navy ;
Porter, Constitutional History; McKnigbt. Electoral System;
McCrary. EUction Laws; Cooley, Constitutional Limitations,
Taxation and Constitutional Law ; Alden, Science of Government;
Austin, Constitutional Republicanism : Bradford. History of the
Federal Gorernment. 178!I-1,S39 ; Coles, History of the Ordinanceo/
1787 ; Dwight. History of the Hartford Conrenlinn ; Draper, Civil
Policy of America ; Handlin, American Politics ; Sneider, Tfie
American State : Spaulding, Administrations of the United States;
Sumner, WorK's; Thompson, Church and Statein the U. S.; Thomp-
son, 7?fro/?;/iO?i j4(7rti7i6'/ Free Government; Townsend. --l/ta^y^t*
of Civil Government ; Elliot's Debates : Constitutional Conven-
tion : Young, American Statesmen ; Bancroft. Formation of the
Constitution of the U. S. ; Blaine, Twenty Years in Congress ;
Porter, Constitutional History of the United States; Vreh\e, His-
tory of the Flag of the United States; Sumner, Prophetic Voices
Concerning Ajiierica ; Wilson, Rise and Fall of the Slave Power;
Woolscy and others. First Century of the Republic; Rusfell, His-
tory of the }yar of \H\2 ; Ingersoll. History of the War of 1S12;
Abbott's History of the Civil War; Compte Oe Paris, History of the
Civil War in America ; Borcke, Memoirs of tlie Confederate War;
Brownlow, Rise and Progress of Secession ; Campaigns of the
Civil War : Drew, .Joltn Brown's Invasion ; Greeley, American
Conflict ; Harpers' History of the Rebellion ; Pollard, Lost
Cause : Pollard, Lost Cause Regained ; Memoirs of Grant and
Shertn:in— Life of Sheridan ; Pollard. General Lee and His Lieu-
tenants: Pollard, Military Life of Jefferson Davis; Stephens,
Constitutional View of Late War. with Sujyplement ; Blodgett,
Conimercitd strength of the United States ; Bolles, Financial His-
tory of the United .States ; Sumner, History of American Cur-
rency '; Taylor, -American Currency ; Knox, Fifth Report of
American 'Banners' Association ; Law. National Circulating
Medium in United States; Phillips, History of American Paper
Cur/ency and Continental Money; Wells. Robinson Crusoe's
Money ; Spauldingj One Hundred Years of Banking ; Ely, Labor
Movement in America ; Gibbons. Public Debt of the UnitedStates;
Mason, The Tariff ; Young, Tariff Legislation of the United
States ; Hudson, Railways and the jRepublic ; fladley, Railroad
Transportation ; Poor, Manual of U. S. Railroads ; Porcher, Re-
sources of the South ; Dresser, UnitedStates Tariff; Official Sta-
tistics of the United States, and the Several States.
PRESIDENTS AND VICE-PRESIDENTS OF THE UNITED STATES
Terms.
1789-93
1793-97
1797-1801
1801-03
1805-09
1809-13
1813-17
1817-ai
1831-25
1825-39
1829-33
1833-37
1837^1
lMl-45
1845^9
1849-53
18,53-,57
18,57-ai
186I-G5
186,5-69
1869-73
1873-71
1877-81
1881-85
1885-89
Presidents.
1. George Washington, Va.
George Washington.
2. John Adams, Mass.
3. Thomas Jefferson, Va.
Thomas Jefferson.
4. .lames Madison, Va.
James Madison.
5. .lames Monroe, Va.
.Tames Monroe.
G. John Quiucy Adams, Mass.
7. Andrew Jackson, Tenn.
Andrew Jackson.
8. Martin Van Buren, N. Y.
9. William Henry Harrison, O.
id. 1841).
10. John Tyler.
U. James Knox Polk, Tenn.
13. Zachary Taylor, La. (rf.
1850.
13. Millard Fillmore.
14. Franklin Pierce, N. II.
15. James Buchanan, Pa.
16. Abraham Lincoln, 111.
Abraham Lincoln (rf. 1865).
17. Andrew Johnson.
18. Ulysses Simpson Grant, III.
Ulysses S. Grant.
19. Rutherford Birchard Hayes,
O.
30. James Abram Garfield, O.
(d. 18811.
21. Chester Allan Arthur.
32. Grover Cleveland, N. Y.
23. Benjamin Harrison, Ind.
Vice-Presidents.
1. John Adams, Mass.
John .\dams.
3. Thomas Jefferson, Va.
3. Aaron Burr, N. Y.
4. George Clinton, N, Y.
George Clinton (d.
1812).
5. Elbridge Gerry, Mass,
(d. 1814).
6. Daniel D. Tompkins,.
N. Y.
Daniel D. Tompkins.
7. John Caldwell Cal-
houn, S. C.
John C. Calhoun (res.
18,32.
8. Martin Van Buren,
N. Y.
9. Richard Mentor John-
son. Ky.
10. John Tyler, Va.
11. George Mifflin Dallas,
Pa.
12. Millard Fillmore.N.T.
13. William Rufus King,
Ala. {d. 1853).
14. John Cabell Breckin-
ridge, Ky.
15. Hannibal Hamlin, Me.
16. Andrew Johnson, Tenn
17. Schnyler Colfax. Ind. .
18. Henry Wilson, Mass.
[d. 1875).
19. Win. Almon Wheeler,
N. Y.
20. Chester Allan .Arthur,
N. Y.
21. ThomasAndrewsHen-
dricks, Ind. (d. 1885.>
2*?. Levi Parsons Morton^
N. Y.
S. F.
I
I
?«;i«<0»rkii 95
□ aBbio^toQ 18
PHYSICAL KfiTl-KES.
UNITED STATES
791
PART ll.-PHYSICAL GEOGRAPHY AND STATISTICS.
•opodarief
nd Area.
ea«ra|>h-
sl ]toei-
an.
PHYSICAL GEOGRAPHY AND STATISTICS.
North America is very unequally di\-ided between races speak-
ing English and those whose uffieial language is Spanish. From
the parallel of dtj^ south the cuutinent uarrxiws very rapidly, and
Bearly all the country to the north of this parallel is under the
•ontrol of English-speaking people. It is true that many emi-
grants from various portions of Europe, and some from .\sia,
a« well as the descendiiufs of .\fricans. are mingled with the de-
•eenJ.ints of the English; but this does not materially affect the
truth ot the statement, that north of 3U° the Euglish laugu.ige is
Bot only dominant, but almost universal. This vast region, embnic-
ing an area of more than seven millions of square miles, is pretty
equally divided, so far a> area is concerned, betwetn colonial
possessions of Great Britain and a country of which the nucleus
was once colonial and English, but which for a little more than a
kundred years has been independent of the mother country, and
which has greatly increased in area since that change took place,
by the absorption, as exphiineil elsewhere, of land formerly to a
•ertain extent controlled by. or in nominal possession of. people
speaking French and Spanish. The Spanish-spaking inhabi-
tants of North America are known as Mexicans and Centr.al
Americans, the colonial English as Canadians: and owing to the
difficulty of making a convenient and euphonious adjective-
appellative out of the name United States, the citizens of "the
States" are being more and more generally designated by the
term ".Americans."
The British possessions in North America, although about
equal lu area to the United States, are much less dens.-Iy popu-
lated than this country, and will in all probabilit.v ever remain so,
^ince in regard to climate, soil, and mineral productions, the
northern portion of the continent stands in a position greatly in-
ferior to chat of the more^ southern region To the United States
belongs that portion of North .America which by its position in
latitude is. in large part, capjble of supporting a dense popula-
tion, and where the climatic conditions are highly favorable to
intellectnal and physical development.
The area embraced under the designation of '*the United
States" (of North .\mericai extends from the .\tlantic to the
Pacific Ocean. Its boundaries, other than these oceans, are in
part natural and in part artificial. The Gulf of Mexico forms the
■outhern boundary of the United States between the meridians of
S3° and 97°. Between .Mexico and the United States, the bound-
ary U in part natural and in part arbitrary. The most essential
feature of this boundary is the Rio Grande, from the mouth of
which the division line between Mexico and the United States
follows this river to the point where the parallel of .31° 47' inter-
.lects it.
i The boundary line between the United State? and Canada fol-
lows the middle of the St, Lawrence River and the Great Lakes,
from the point where the 45th parallel cuts that river to a point
on Lake Snperio/ where the Rainy Lake River enters that lake,
thence up that river to a point on the west side of the Lake of
the Woods, and thence along the 49th parallel to Puget Sound.
The triangular area between Lakes Ontario and Erie on one
side and Lake Huron on the other extends far to the south of the
remaining portion of Cana<la. and this southerly aj-ea constitutes
the most valuable and thickly inhabited portion of the Dominion,
The United States, as thus limited, leaving out of consideratioii
the remote territory ot .\laska, comprises an area of 3,02.5.600
square miles. This includes oo.iiOO square miles of water surface,
embracing the following items :—
Coast waters, bays, gulfs, sounds, etc. 17 200
Rivers and smaller streams 14 jOO
Lakes and ponds 23,900
Leaving the total land surface 2,970,0<X)
Total 3.025,600
Under the head of "lakes and ponds," as given above, no portion
of the Great Lakes is included The area of Alaska is given in
the Census Report of laso as being .531,409 square miles, which
flgnres. however, can be only a rough approximation, and which
differ greatly from those given in the Report of the Commissioner
of the General Land Office for the year ending June 30, 1886.
.The total of the possessions of the United States is therefore,
'approximately, 3„5o7,009 square miles. The area of the British
Possessions in North .America, including Newfoundland, but not
(the Arctic .Archipelago, is given by Behm and Wagner at 3.24S,077,
and by Mr. Selwyn, Government Geologist of Canada, at 3,.530,630
square miles.— the latter estimate including Newfoundland, and
also the islands in the Arctic Ocean and Hudson's Bav, The area
of Mexico is given by Behm and Wagner as 751.177 square miles,
and that of Central .America 211,320 square miles. The total
•reaof North America, including the .Arctic Archipelago and Cen-
tral America, may therefore be approximately stated as follows :—
British Possessions 3„530,6,30
United States 3,5.57,t»i9
Mexico 7,51,177
Central America 211,320
Total 8,050,136
The area of the United States lies between the 67th and 125th
degrees of longitude, rjid the 25th and 47th degrees of latitude.
The form and character of the coast lines of the United States voast.
may properly first claim our attention in a topographic sketch of
the area under consideration. The tacilities for good harbors are
lacking on both c asis The deficiency in this respect on the
Pacific side is striking, th re being only one important bay on this
coast between San Diego and Paget Sound; namely, that of San
i niiicisco. Thb. as compared with the mass of the land, is of insig-
nificant size, but as furnishing a large, safe, and easily accessible
harbor, is of the greatest importance. The indentation at San
Diego is much smaller than that of San Franci.-co, but that also
furnishes a cuminodious harbor. With th«s-' exceptions there aro
within the limits of the United States no satisfactory harbors on
the Pacificcoast except those of Puget Sound and Columbia River
in the extreme north.
The eastern coast of the United States is provided with several Ports and
good harbors and some large hays. On the Maine coast there is the harbors
harbor of Portland, which may be taken as a type of a number
of safe and commodious ports along the coast. In Massachusetts,
Cape Cod incloses a large and safe bay. at the lower end of which
IS situated the h irbor of Boston. In New York, the situation of
the city by the same name makes that port the most important
center of commerce in the United States.
The superiority and eommodiuusness of the harbor ot New York
depends in part on the breadth of the Hudson near its mouth—
this river being in fact almost an arm ot the sea— and also on the
position of Long Isl md. the western end of which is so placed
with reference to the coast of New Jersey and a closelv con-
tiguous small island (Staten Island) as to inclose a large' land-
locked area called the Upper Bay,
Long Island, off the coast of Connecticut, has a length of 120
miles. It is the only island of any importance on the .Atlantic
coast. There are a i umber of smallerones, such as Block Island,
Nantucket and Martha's Vineyard.
South of New Y'ork are the Chesapeake and Delaware Bays Bays,
ihe latter receives the water of the Delaware River, and the
Chesapeake tiiat of the Potomac and the Susquehanna The
largest indentation on the coast of the United States is the Gulf of
Mexico.
It is into this great reservoir that the superfluous waters otthe
larger portion of the United States are carried, chiefly by the
Mississippi and .Missouri, but also by dirtet drainage" into ths
Gulf from the a,;ljacent States. The peninsula ot Florida, project-
ing from and extending five degrees south of the mainland, and
forming the eastern boundary of the Gulf, is of more importance
in Its relations to the currents entering into the Gulf than it is as
an addition to the inhabitable territory of the country.
A large portion of the northern boundary of the United States
IS of a peculiar kind. It is neither land, river, nor ocean, but
fresh water; it being a Km drawn through the central portion of
four of the so called "Great Lakes"— Ontario, Erie, Huron and
Superior. Lake .Michigan, on the other hand, is wholly within
the limits of the Initerl States.
The Great Lakes, which are five in number, constitute a most The Great
important feature in the topography of the country. They are Lakes
remarkable for their size, and for the near approach to equality of
altitnde above the sea-level of the surface ot the four largest ones.
Navigation is entirely uninterrupted between Erie. Huron and
.Michigan, and these have the following elevations: Erie 573 feet;
Huron.. 5^2: .Michigan, .~82. Lake Superior is twenty feet higher
than Lake Michigan, but this obstruction has been overcome by the
building of a canal around the Falis of St. MaryfSaut Ste, Marie),
with a single lock of sufficient dimensions to accommodate vessels
and steamers of the largest size. Lake Ontario is 326 feet lower
than Erie and these two lakes are connected by a canal on the
Canada side ; while Erie is also thus connected, on the American
side, with the Hudson River, and through this with the Atlantic
As before remarked, the chief drainage of the United States is to
the Gulf of Mexico, through the system of the Mississippi-Missouri
and their tributaries, as will be seen by the following table, show-
ing the extent of the various important dirisions of the drainaee
area of the country, as given by the U, S, Census of ISSO:—
Atlantic and Gnlf 2.178.210
Great Basin iiSilSO
Pacific Slope 619','240
The drainage area of the MLssissippi-Missonri River is esti-
mated at 1.240,039 square miles, or somewhat over one-third of the Drainas*
entire area of the country. The drainage into the .Atlantic and areas
(lulf. as stated above at 2,178.210 square miles, is divided as
follows: —
New England coast 61,830
.Middle .Atlantic coast 83.C20
South -Atlantic coast 132,040
Groat Lakes 175.340
Gu 1 E of Mexico I,7"25.;i80
Total. 2.178,210
The drainage into the Gulf of Mexico is thus divided:—
Into the Gnlf direct ■ 4S5.94I
Through the Mississippi River 1.24o]o39
1,725,960
792
UNITiiD^STATES
[general topography.
This indication of the overwhelming preponderance of the
drainage of the territory of the United States into the Gulf of
Mexico naturally opens the way to a recognition of the most iin-
poitant fact in the topogrnphy of the country — namely, the
existence of such an orographic structure as compels the waters
to concentrate them-^elves into one trreat system of tributaries
coming in from the east and the west, and uniting in a main
uorth-and-south channel. The cause of thi;' state of things be-
come-i evident when we notice the general relief of the country,
aad the pusitions of the varinus water sheds. To acquire the best
general idea of the r>'lief of the surface of the United States, we may
begin by supposing the land to be depressed, or the level of the
ocean raised, to an amount equ.il to one thousand feet. By dung
this we should flond a great strip uf country across the continent.
Mexico would remain on^the w.'St a great mass of land, while to
the north of fhe United States the land would rapidly diminish as
higher latitudes were reached.
GENERA7, TOPOGRAPHY.
In describing the physical features of a country, it is necessary
tti consider its general plan, the skeleton or framework of moun-
tains, to which its plains, valleys, and river systems are subordi-
nate, and on the directi,ou and elevation of whose parts its climate
ii. in a very large degree, dei-ei dent.
The skeleton of the United States is represented by two great
system^ of mountain ranges, or combinations of ranges, one
forming tlie eastern, the nth- r the western side of the framework
by which the central portion of our continent is embraced. Tliese
two .-ystems are the Appalachian ranges and the Cordilleras of
North America. These systeius are of very different magnitude
and extent. Between them stretches a great interior vaM-w, oceu
pied by tiie Mississippi and the ereat lakes
Mountain The centnil portion of th-; United Slates is nearly a level area.
regloLs, embracing a tract of country about l'J5U miles east and wesr, and
about 12i.iti miles noith and south. It slopes gently downward t »
the center from iheea?tand » est, and towards the Gulf nf Mex
ico, from its northern limits. The moantain regions, both on ihe
east and west coasts, are not embnu'i d under one continuous
range, but are complicated in their orographic structure.
The eastern and westeri elevated region^ being nuide up of a
great numb r of topographically more or less dttjichod portions.
It was not until a corriparatively recent period ilisit these regions
receivt d such general distinctive appellaiion- h> w-uld evidently
be required in any discussion or de-c- iption of th' country as a
wh'de. At the present time, by gi-n'rai eo se:it of gei^graph'TS
and geologists, the eastern elevated siile of the contin' nt is cal'ed
the Appalachian Region; the western the Oordilleran. «hile
the comparatively level country between these ranges is known
as the Mississippi Vai.i.kt
The Great Basin of the Mis/iiasippi is bisected tbrouiih its cen-
ter by a supreme artery, which, above ."^t .l^ouis. has received the
name of the Misiouri. and below the Misnissippi Kiver.
This is 5.UUU miles in lengih. and it- surface is a continuous in-
clined plane, descending seven inches in the mile. Inl" this cen-
tral artery, a- into a common trough (bscend innumerabie rivers
comiutr trom the great mountain chiins of the continent.
All III the immense urea thus drained fnnus a single basin, of
which th-'circumfere .t mouniains form rbe rim. It may be also
called an a7HpAiVAe«?re, embracing 1,500,000 square miles of surface.
This has b'Mm. during the anteiiiluvian a;;es, the bed uf a great
ocL'an, such as is now the Gulf of Mexico, or ihe Me.literranean,
above the surface of which the inouinains protruded themselves
as islands. (Gradually tilled up by ihi* liitration of the waters
during countless ages, it has reached its pres 'iitaltiiude above the
other Imsins, over which the oceans now still roll, and into which
the wat'-rs have retired.
?i s ssippi Thr fiasin of the Missiaaippi is, then, a paveoient oi calcareous
t-as... rock, many thousand feet, in depth, formed by the sedimentof
the superincumijent water, deposited stratnm upon stratum, com-
pressed ijy its weight and crystallized into roek by its chemieal
fermentation and pressure. It is in exact imitation of this sub-
lime process of the natural world that every housewife com-
presses the milk of her dairy into solid cheese and butter. It is,
therefore, a homogeneous, undulating plain of the secondary ov
sedimentary formation, surmounted by a covering of soil from
which springs the vegetation, as hair from the external skin of
i I animal. Through this coating of soil, and into the soft surface
Urata of rock, the desecnding fre^h waters bnrrow their channels,
converging everywhere, from the cireumferent rim to the lowest
.evel, and pass out to the sea. .
The most noticeable facts in regard to this vast area are its
fi -ht elevation above sea-level and the general plain-like cbar-
ictei of its surface. These conditions are well illustrated bv the
nat'-ns-it that at Cairo, the junction of the Ohio and the Missis-
I'ppi, TO a**? 1,100 miles from the tiulf, and yet only about 3<i0
(•eet abo/9 ':he sea-level. At Pittsburgh, the head of the Ohio
i'er iiroper, we have attiiued an elevation of only 699 feet.
G-dng in the opposite direi-tion. or following up the tributaries of
the M.ssissippi and of the Missouri, which come in from the west,
we have a similar condition of things. One may travel up the
Plat[e ()r the Kansas for hundreds of miles, rising so grathially
and so imperceptibly that the country seems all the time a level
plain. From Council Bluffs to the source of Lodtre Pole creek,
alnng the line of the Union Pacific railroad, the asrent averages
only 5 feet o the mile. From St. Paul, which is only 700 feet
above th-- sea. we tra-el for 670 miles westerly before tho month
of the Yellowstone is reached, and here we have attained an alti-
tude of only 2.010 ft-ct, with an avera^iO rise of onlv 2 feet to the
Area of The great lakes, those vast expansions of th^. upper waters of
Great the St. Lawrence, are among the grandest of the geographieal
liakes features of the North American continent. They are remarkable
for their immense area, and for their uniformity of elevation
above sea-level, and the consequent facilities which they aflford
for commercial intercourse.
Their combined area is a little more than 90,000 square miles.
Lake Superior having over 30,000, and Lakes Michigan and Huron
each over So.'OO square miles of surface. Erie. Huron, and
Michigan are nearly on the same level, the extreme difference be-
tween the first and the hist-named being only about 16 feet while
Superior is only 20 feet hiij'hei than Michigan, or 36 above Erie.
The divide between the threat lakes and the waters flowiug into
the Mississippi and its tributaries is also everywhere low, and at
the lower end of Lake Michigan it is si) trifling that only a small
amount of excavation has been required to cause waters w'uich
formerly flowed into that lake to run toward the (Julf of Mex-
ico. Lak.! Ontario is, indeed, 323 feet lower thin Lake Krie,
about half the descent from one to the other being made in one
single plung* of the vast body of water, forming a caiaract which
has, in all prubability, no rival in the world.
The level and fertile region of the Mississippi valley is pro-
longed toward the far southwest, around the Gulf of Mexico and
far into the interior of T -xas, where it finally passes into the ele-
vated, barren plateau ot the Llano Estacado.
All that portion of the Mississippi basin lying between the Timbe?,
Mississippi River and the Atlantic, is densely timbered, excepting
only a portion of Indiana. Illinois, and Wisconsin; so also are the
States of Louisian I, Arkansas, and South Missouri An irregular
line from the head of Lake Erie, running toward the south and
\vest into Tex:is, defines the cessation of the timber. Betweem
this line and the sea exists a continuous forest region, perpetually
moistened bv showers from the ocean. Beyond this line, and
deeperinto the continent, the upland ceases to nourish timber,
which is replaced by luxuriant annual grasses, though narrow
lines of forest continue upon the saturated bottoms of the riven
and in the islands. This is the Prairie region of luxuriant annual
grasses and soft arable soil, over which the flres annually sweep
alter the d'C ly 0* vegetation.
The. termination of this belt is marked by an irregular line par-
allel to the first, where the rain ceases, and the timber entirely
di-appears. It is about 4 0 miles in width, and within it arti-
ficial irrigation is not practiced nor necessary, it being tvery-
where soft, arable and fertile.
To this succeeds the immentje rainleaa region onward to tho
mountains, exclusivfly pastoral, of a compact soil, coated with
the dwarf buffalo grass, without trees, and the abode of thi; ab-
criginal cattle That no desert does or can exist within thii
basin, is manifest from the abundance and magnitude of th«
rivers; the uniform calcareous tormation; the absence of a tropi-
cal sun; its longitudinal position across the temperate zone; and
the greatness and altitude nf the mountains on its western rim.
The river sy-^tem of the Mississippi Basin resembles a fan of Rjvaj
palm-leaf. Th- stem in the State of Louisiana rests in the (lulf; gyvpov
above, the iifflu- nt rivers converge to it from all parts of the
compass. From the east come in the Homoehitto. the Yazoo, the
Oliin, the Illinois, and the Upper Mississippi Fnim the xceat,
the Red River, the Washita, the Ark'insa<, the White, St Francis
and Osage Rivers, the Kansas, the Triple Platte, the L'Kau qui
Cours, and the Yellowst<me. all naviga le rivers of great length
and importance. These rivers present a continuous navigable
channel of 22.500 miles, having 4-5,0110 miles of shore — an amount
of navigation and coast equal to the Atlantic Ocean. The areaof
the Mississippi Basin classifies itself into onc-and-a baU-fiftbs of
the compactly growing forest, the same of prairie, and two fifths
of great plains. Through all of these the river system is ramified
a? minutely complex as are tho veins and arteries of the human
system
Beyond this great main river stretch out the vast prairies of the P^in*.
west. These plains are not deserta: they are calcareous. and form
the Pantoral Garden of the world. Their position and aiea may
be easily understood. The meridian line which terminates the
States of Louisiana, Arkansas, Missouri and Iowa on the west,
forms their eastern limit, and the Rocky Mountain crest their
irestern limit. Between these two limits they occupy a longitudi-
nal parallelogram of less than 1,000 miles in width, extending
from the Texan to the Arctic coasts. There is no timber upon
them, and single trees arc scarce. They have n gentle slope from
the tcest to the east, and abtmnd in rivers. Tbey are clad thick
with nutritious grasses, and swnrm with animal life. The soil if
not silicious or sandy, but is a fine ca^careou* mould. They run
smoothly out to the navigable rivers, the Missouri. Mississippi,
and St. Lawrenre. and to the Texan coast. The mountain masset
toward the Pacific form no serious barrier between tbem and that
ocean. No portion of their whole sweep of surface is more than
l.OiiO miles from tho most facile navigation. The prospect is
evervwhere gently undulating and graceful, being bounded, u
on tho ocean, by the horizon. Storms are rare, except during the
melting of the snows uponthccrest of the Rocky Mountains.
The climate is comparatively rainless: the rivers serve, like the fllinia'*'
Nile, to irrigate rather than drain th.^ neighboring surface, and
have few affluents. They all run from west to ?n«^ having beds shal-
low and broad, and the basins through whieh tbey flow are flat, long
and narrow. Thearraof the Great Plains is equivalent to tht
surface of the twenty-four States iK'tween the Mississippi and th<
Atlantic Sea. They are one homogeneous formation, smooth
uniform, and continuous, without a single abrupt mountain, tim
bered space, desert, or Inke. From their ample dimensions an<
position they define themselves to be the pastvrc-fields of th
world .
The Pastor.al Region is hnpitndinaL The bulk of it is unde
the Temperate Zone, out of which it rur.3 into the Arctic Zone ff
tho north, and into the Tropical Zone on the south. The parallt
Atlantic ara6^e and v\aritime region flanks it on the east; thi
of the Pacific on the west.
THE eORDILLERAN REGION.] UNITED S'T'ATFS
793
Tertiary
md Ci-eta-
Seoloirical
tonnatiOD.
:„!?^'"'®' "^^ t^^swliole. so nearly a plain, this vast area. eomnrU-
ing over a million and a half square miles, has considereble
^mT^F V 'h ■^*^'*; " being not altogether denitute of moSns
some of which rise to a consi krable altitude. To descriti even
withainoderateaaiouut of detail, the ba.iu of the r«5e^t rivt?
Fvstem but one m the world wotUd nquire many vohfme' All
that can be done is to indicate the salient features of its^logy
as supplementary to that which has been said in regard wSe
ttrnctore of the great mountain systems by which gxi^g^olog^
cally comparatively undisturbed region is framed in ^
»ni ,f/,l''"'tP '^°'^- ^■"■".eta'^eous ro<ks, extending along the Gulf
^J^r^?%is^Pn^J^^^— «^^-^S^^,||
formation follows the general trend of the Rockv MouST ra
^1 of vth'^-t"^\^°'^K'""^f '.''•' the western half if Kansas^^ri?
tte west'e'rp^rVof°Mln'n"elr * ^''^'"''' '' ''"'"»° "^ I"-' ^^
Tnassic rocks stretch over a large area of Teias; they aI«o ei-
tei^d into the Indian Territory and the sonthern^m of Kans"
^ni^l,* ""*y ?""-""' »f the Xorthern Central gr«up of Im^s
andportions of the southern Central group of States, are of the
PaJeozoio rook formation, covered by post-Tertiar^ ^d recent
Donan^/.Tm »n'°°'- '" '■"''l^'^tem. Mi^ouri. the AiTicTea S
SSc^r i^ P,Mf RnTT''H?'*°'^P?'°'- 1™\ O'-e^ of immense value
2u,?fo^nH ^^ .? 1 • ^'°? ■^louitaia «nd other localities. Iron is
s,lti?"?i-'?''"' :*z">c formations about Lake Superior, in the
ir^nrt^, ■'"',r*'°^'"*S''"^*"^'<^™ Minnesoti. Xorti of thil
O^er^S^^v t^e copper-bearing rock of the lower SUuriau age
S^on thTrr/H- rr'''«.™/^°?^5->™"ia- and the count^ boril?-
in^on the Creat Lakes is found a large amount of "drift " How
-hH?K*"f"* 1"" was distributed Sver this area la questix,n
which has long been a subject of discussion among geoIogiirsB?
S^HhS '^=" number of those who have investfe^ th^ .ubi«.^
t^^ iti- bXveH^.J'i^ '^^'- "^'"i'^^ ™^rial to gS
lenses. It ij believed that at one time the northern oart of the
continent was covered with ice, and that which we ?l^ on th^
pr, ;ent stjrface of the region th^t was thus Covered fs t^e re4lt
sl2kTc°thiy";^i!tir^'^^^- " "^'"^ «-^ -"^'^^ -« P-
THE COBDILLKRiN BKGIOV
»J?|ta^f J&V^Ie^r plot So?!^^t^ S!.^ :f
^^J.&^?-Sp!rg\^^?Je°.^ ^-'- -^"»- *-
JdZfJt^:i° t^^.^y^'.*'™ of 'he Cordilleras enters our territory.
to an e evation of over JOW) feet. The country along thMinT si
^^.!ua^C:^i?:^t?5;';^^^^-^£ ^^
H„^,h • ' '^"I* Laramie, or between latitudes ;ft° and 49°
1% a^^tlo— dllJ^ra-d-tf lEe^ fcl,rrn%^n.^^^^^^^^
be, in Its maximum, over I.IUO miles. Ih- whole area em hrJeH
To roughly indicate the shape of the ma=s of the Por,l,-ii„
wencrnedJ^?! ,!,„(;'''' ''•^^'^ ''^P''°^'™''tely 60.1 miles. The
iiSlpstiiiriis
by^the°Ca-^,u'"'"^^^'5 *';■''" '-"^ifated, framed in. as it were
Rocky Mon'^li..™"^''./.'"'^ ^"""^ ^«™da on the w^st and the
ttro„^hUs?^°,e^.t«„'d we-; l-"'"'"--','' hi?h plateau, which!
10.000 feet above set Lr , V,- ^^ "i' •^'^'•at'on of from 4.nO0 to
th-:f^u\11romiUce^l?al'iiie'.'''"° °^ toward both the north and
ine Cor-
iiUe.'s*.
Let us consider U in its great general featurea. It ma> o«
divided into —
1st- .f he siction of the Rocky Mountains,
2d. Ihai oi ihe plateaus,
3d. That of the Great Ba^ in, and
4th. That of the Pacific
The country lying ea.-t of the first section is a ereat plain, ex-
tending to an undcfinable eastern limit, which mav be set. how-
ever, roughly at the KOth meridian. This plain L not stric.ly
level, but undulatii-g. like the swell of thesea. Mostof the streai
valleys are shallow depressions, atd the divides between them
are but slightly marked. These plains riseslowlv westward, with
an even gradient, to a height of 4,0tio to tj,i Ui feet at the eastern
base of the Kocky Mountains, being the highest in Colorado, de-
creasing thence northward and southward. They are covered with
grasses almost throughout, and form a grajing-ground of almost
incalculable capacu>'.
With the txoeptio'nof the Missouri and the Yellowstone, none of
taestreamsareof any importance to navigation, and ihev are of
use only tor irrigation. The capacity of this region for supporting
Mfe is largely dependent upon its rainfall, which wUI be discussed
rnrther on.
The Rocky Mountains form the eastern member of the Cor- Rocr.y
auieran system,— a member made up cf many subordinate ranges Mountaii
eacn range or sub-group of ranges baring a distinctive name, recog-
nized by those living near, nhile the name "Kocky Mountains" is
m genera] use as the proper appellction when a nnmber of these
sub groups of ranges are intended to be included under one com-
mon name.
.■jI"^™ '*"' '""".'' border of the United States to about latitude
4,s^ their general course is nearly north and south, and from thij
pint northward to the British line it is nearly northwest, thus
t"..ui.iioriu«aru tome critisn line it is nearly northwest, thus
tormmg the two eastern sides of the lozenge above spoken of
Ihey consist of a number of rangts, nearly ill of which trend
paraJlel to one another— a few degrees east of south and west of
north, or roughly paralk 1 to the northeasttrn side of thL- region
. In the southern portion the ranges run out one after another
into the plains, forming an echelon arrangement, thus giving to
the system a nearly north and south face.
In Colorado the underlying platiau attains a greater elevation
than in any other part of the Cordilleran system, reaching an
estreme height in the South Park of lO.OCCi feet. Here, too the
ranges reach a greater altitude than in any other part of ihe
,,°-'XL™''"?'*'° •'-''^"^ni. ^umberless. peaks rise from 14,fXiO to
14.o()0 feet above searlevel. There are few passes in the rai ge' at
a height much below timber-line, which is from 11,000 t^ 12,000
•I. .^orthward and southward the plateau decreases gradually
in height, carrying downward the ranges which stan'i upon it.
Southward through New Mexico the ranges not only decrease in
height, but become broken and scattering, while tie extent of
level plateau country becomes much greater. Toward the north,
in southern flyoming, all the ranges step abruptly, leaving to
represent the Rocky mountain system onlv a line of plateaus of an
elevation of ti.OOO to 7,0C0 feet stretching from Bridger pass, in
the southern part of the territory, northweftward to the South
pass, at the south end of the Wind River chain. In this latitude
a nnmber of ranges rise abruptly from the plateau, beginning
with the Big Horn on the east, then the Wind River range, some
of w-hose peaks are more than 13,000 feet in altitude, and the mul-
titudinous ranges which border the headwaters of the Snake
Tj"u' j°i? ""* point, as the system continues onward into
Idaho and Montana, the underlying plateau and the ranges al«o
greatly decrease in height, but not in complexity. In the north-
western part of Montana and northern Idaho, indeed, the whole
JojJiV'" „^l-» ">^s of mountain ranges, whose elevation is from
s.uuu to y.lM feet, separated in most cases, bv very narrow val-
leys, the wnole area being densely covered with forests.
THE PLATE.it; PEO^TKCE.
The region of which the principal or more striking, topographi-
cal and geological features are next to be indicated, is that lying
south of the Great Basin, and which is drained bv the Colorado
and its tributaries. It is included chiefly within the boundaries of
the Territories of Ltah and Arizona; but. to a certain extent
similar ch|iracteristic features are found in the adjacent portion of
Colurido, New Mexico, and Nevada.
For CMUvenience of geological discussion, that belt of country ProTJnnM!.
which hes between the meridian of Denver, Colorado, and the '""""*
I'acific, and between the 34fh and 43d parallels, is divided into
provinces, each of which possesses topographical features whicht
distinguish It from the others. The easternmost is named the Park
Province. It is situated in the central and western parts of Col-
orado, and extends north of that State into Wyoming, and south
of It into New Mexico, It is pre-eminently a mountain region,
having several long ranges of the second order of magnitude
Tne structure and forms of these mountains are not exactly simiT
lar to tnose of any other region now well known, but posse«s «ome
resemblance to the Alps, though not a verj close one.
To the westward of these ranges in Colorado, there are, near the Platformi
western boundary of that State, regions having a verv different and
topography The mountains disappear almost wholly, and in terraces
their stead there ar,i platforms and terraces nearly or quite
ho.izontal on their summits or floors, and abruptiv terminated by
long lines or cliffs. They lie at greatly varying altitudes, some as
highaslUOiOfeet above the sea, others no higher than 5.000, and
with still others occupying intermediate levels. Seldom does the
surfaceof the land rise into conical peaks, or into Ion';, narrow,
crested ridges; but the profiles are long, horizontal lines, suddenly
dropping down many hundred orev^n two thousand feet, upoa
another flat plain below. This region has been verv appropriately
named, by Professor Powell, the Plateau Province! It occupies a,
narrow strip m the extreme western part of Colorado, a similar
794
UNITED STATES
[the great BASor.
strip of western New Mexico, a large part of soutliern Wyoming,
and lather more than hjilf i>r Utah and Arizona.
Drainage This region may be rou^-hly defined a^ comprising the lirain-
6asin of the age basin of the Colorado river and its tributaries. The upper
Colorado, portions of its tributiiries llov,-, however, in the Kocky Mountains
and the Wuhsatch range, and enter the plateuu regioi: lower in
their ciiurses. This rogiun lies west of the southern seotii-n of
the Rocky Mountains and east of the Great Basin, and cuusti-
tuus a threat depression or valKy in the Cordilleran region or a
Tuughly triangular shape, its apex being in western \\ yumiug.
near the \:<sid of the tireen river, one of the forks of the ( 'olorado
It is a region ut table lands ani.l canons ; of table lands huiizontu!
or nearlv >o. jiTretchiijg for m my miles with .--carcely an undul::-
tion in the uniform surface, but .-uddenly ending abruptly in a
line of cliffs, perhaps thousanils of foet in height, and extending
in an unbroken lino for huri'lr^ids of miles. In tliia region every
stream is in a girge, cut, liundreds. or even thousands of feet
below the surface by the action of water on the soft, stratified
sandstones and limestones. Most of this region is uninhabited
and uninhabitable, not only by r asou of the climate, which for-
bids igric'iltural pursuits, but fn-m its almost hopeless impassa-
bleuess.
Separating this r(gion from the (irear Basil is the M'ahsatch
range, which may be considered as a spur from ih- Kocky Moun-
tains. It is a range of consid rable breadth and altituile. extend-
ing from north 'rn Utah nearly to ine miildle latitude of thj State,
and descending to ihe general level of the eountn on the south
anil ej tbyaseriesof plateaus, forming a veritable Kiant's stair-
■wa\. The elevation of this range in its highest portion is from
lO.OfiO :o ll.lKJO feet, one or two peaks only reaching an altitude of
12.000 feet. .Joining this rangn in the northern part of Utah is
that of the Uinta, which differs from nearly all the ranges of
the Cordilleran region by having an east and west trend. Itforms
the southern limit of the Green River basin, ih? region upon
which the fugitive name " Great American Desert" has been latest
bestoweil. and where it is probable it has at last found a final
resting-place.
This ran^'e far exceeds the Wahsatch in elevation, a number of
its pi-a^s extending skyward nearly 14,000 feet, and its broad,
plateau like summit being for a considerable extent at an eleva^
tio!i of I2,0nufeet.
riaDOns. The (irand Canon District is a part of the Plateau Province,
As already indicated, it lies between the Park and Basin Prov-
inces, and its topography differs in the extreme from those divi-
sions found on either side of it. It is the land of tables and ter-
races, of buttes and mesas, of cliffs and canons. Standing upon
anv elevated spot where the radius of vision reaches out 50 or 100
miles, the observer beholds a strange spectacle. The most con-
spicuous objects are the lofty and brilliantly colored cliffs. They
stretch their tortuous courses across the land in all directions, yet
not without system ; here throwing out a great promontory, there
receding in a deep b:iy, and continuing on and un until they sink
below the horizon or swing behind some loftier mass or fade out
in the distant haze. Each cliff marks the boundary of a geo-
graphical terrace, and marks also the termination of some geo-
logical series of strata, the edges of which are exposed like courses
of masonry in the scarp-walls of the palisades. Very wonderful at
Cliffs. times i.** the sculpture of th'se majestic walls. Each geological
formation exhibits in its cliffs a distinct style of architecture
which is not reproduced among the cliffs of other formations, and
these several styles diff'T as much as those which are cultivated
by different races of men. The chiiracter which appeals most
Coloring strongly to the eye is the colorir.g. The gentle lints of an east-
©rt landscape, the pale blue of distant mountains, the green of
Vttma.1 or summer vegetation, the subdued colors of hill and
Rieadow. are wholly wanting here, and in their place is the bril-
iiant r-^d. yellow and white, which arc intensified rather than aile-
fiated by alternating belts of gray. Like the architecture, the
5©lor3 are characteristic of the geological formations, each series
having its cwn group and range of colors. They culminate in in-
i,etsity in the Permian and Lower Trias, where dark, brownish reds
alternate with bands of chocolate, puri>Ie, and lavender, so deep,
'ri:.h, and resplendent, that a painter would need to be bold to
Venture to portray them as they are.
The Plateau country is also the land of canons, in the strictest
meaning of that terra. Gorges, ravines, ca7(arfas are found, and
are more cr less impressive in every high region ; and in the ver-
nacular of the west, all such features are termed canons indiscrim-
inately. But these long, narrow, profound trenches in the rocks,
witii inaccessible walls, are seldom found outside the plateaus.
There they are innumerable, and are the almost universal form of
drainage channels. Nearly everywhere the drainage channels are
cut from 500 to 3,000 feet below the general platform of the
imm'^diate country. They are abundantly ramified, and every
branch is a canon. All these drainage channels lead down to one
great trunk channel cleft through the heart of the Plateau Prov-
ince for eight hundred miles — the chanm of the Colorado, and the
canon of its principal fork, the (ireen Iliver.
The region is for the most part a desert of the barrenest kind. At
levels below 7,"00 feet the heat is intense, and the air is dry in the
extreme. The vegetation is very scantv, and even the ubiquitous
8age is sparse and stunted. Here and there the cedar is seen, the
iardiest nf arborescent iilants. but it is dwarfed 1 sickly, aud
;eeks .he >!mdit:st nook<. At higher levels the ve tion becomes
Dore abundant and varied. Above S.Oim feet the ^aus are for-
st clad, and the --'ntund is carpeted with rank gm nd an exu-
erant growth of hcnntirul summer flowers. The iruers there
.re 30oI and moist: tlie winters sr^vere and attenc v^itb heavy
.Dow-fall. The IM.iteiiu Province is naturally di d into two
Mountains, portions, a norrnmi and a southern. Th" dividing ""ipr '"^ ^^^
Uinta rang-. This fine mountain |)latform is, in o spect. an
anon?:.ly j.moQg the western ranges. It is the on. nportant
(Wrges ana
ravines.
Drainage.
Cb&imels.
Vogetv
Uon.
one which trends east and west. Starting from the eastern flanh
of the Wasatch, the Uintas project eastward more than 15C
miles, and nearly join porpendicuhifly the Park ranges of Colo-
rado, Of the two portions into which the Plateau Province i|
thus divided, the souih'-rn is much the laiger. Both have in conv
m>ai the plai au features; their topuyraphiea. climates, and phyg»
ical h atures in geneial. are ot similar types, and their geologicaj
teaturts and history appear to be elusely related. But each had
b.\A" ir^ pi-culiaiities. The northern portion is an interesting and
aire;idy celebrated field for the study ot the cretaceous strata,
and the Tertiaiv lacustrine beds. The southern part of the Pla-
teau Province ma.\ be regarded as a vast basin, everywhere
bounded by highland.-, except at the southwest, ^here it opens
wide and passes suddenly into a region having all the charneter-
istics of the Great Basin of Nevada The northern half of its
eastern rim consists of the Park ranges o^ Colorado. Its north-
ern rim lies upon the slopes of the Uinias At the point where
the Uintas join the Wahsatch, the boundary turns sharply to the
south, and for 2iiO niilvs the High Plateaus of Utah constitute
the elevated western margin of the Province. A crude conception
of this region may b. gained by imagining three lines, each 200
miles long, placed in the positions of three sides of a square; the
fourth side being for the moment neglected. Upon the eastern Utah
side, conceive the Park Ranges of Colorado; upon the northern, plateau*
the Uintas: and upon the western side, the southern por'ion of the
AVahsatch and the High Plateaus of Utah; and all these highlands
having altitudes ranging from 9,000 to ]2,0f:0 feet above sea-level,
while the included aiea varies fromS.OtO toT.OOnfeet in heif^ht. The
space thus partially bounded may represent the northern part of
the southern Plateau Province. Along the line required for the
fourth and south side of thecomplete square there is no boundary.
The topography continues on beyond it to the southward, and also
widens out both W' st and east and overspreads an additional area
more than twice as great as that already defined. From the east-
ern coast of the High Plateaus maybe obtained an instructive
overlook of the nortliern portion of the southern Plateau country.
Throughout the great curbuniferous age the entire area of the Carb«Bii-
Plateau Province wa> sul)merged beneath the ocean. Deposition eroui ftge
of strata went on continuously, leaving at the close of this age a
subaqueous surface, which was exceedingly flat. and. except
around the borders of the Province, quite free from any apprecia-
ble inequalities. The thickness of the carboniferous system ia
from4.5U0 feet to 5.00ft feet in the interior of the Province, but.
around its borders, and in the Uinta mountains, it ii sometimes
found in far greater volume. Aft^Tthe Carboniferous came the
Permian age, in which were laid down from 8' 0 to 1.500 feet of
sandy shales. The same state of affairs continued thntugh the
Trias, during which period sandstone beds were deposited.
Directly upon the Trias rests the Jurassic— a wonderlul bed of
sandstone 800 to l,20ii feet thick, and very white and sugary. Next Sandstone
comes the Cretaceous systim,— a mass of yellow sandstones with
clayey and marly shales, aggregating from 4.0011 to 5,000 feet
thick. At the close of the Cretaceous period there are evidences
that extensive disturbances tork place, resulring at some places
in the dislocation and flexing of the strata
The last period of deposition was marked by the accumulation of
the Eocene beds. Around the southern flanks of ^he Uintas their
aggregate thickness exceeds .'>.0UO feet, but southward the upper
members disappear, and 80 miles north of the Grand Canon only
about l.Oi 0 to 1,21 0 feet make their appearance. In the course of Geologioai
geologic;!! history, this area, which had been a region of deposi- history,
tion and subsidence, became one of elevation and denudation.
Since ihiit change took place, the havoc wrought by erosion has
been stupendous, the thickness of strata removed exceeding
10,(00 feet in seme considerable areas, and averaging probably
5,500 to 6,000 feet over the entire Province.
THK GREAT BASIN.
West of the Plateau Province is the Great Basin, so named by
Fremont, because it has no drainage to the ocean.
The first general idea of the drainat-'e and principal topographi-
cal f. atures of the Great Basin is due to Bonneville, who fitted out
a party which started from Green River with the intention of
making the entire circuit of Great Salt Lake. This, as Irving BonnevilW'
states, was a favorite idea of Bonneville's; and in preparing forandhitj
this expedition all the resources at his command were taxed. The part/,
party, consisting of forty men. did not, however, succeed in carry-
ing out Bonneville's plans, but were driven, by the difficult to-
pografthy and utter barrenness of the country on the south side of
the lake, toward the west, traveling in which direction they soon
came upon the head waters of the river called upon Bonneville's
maps "Mary or Ogden's," but whjch is now known as the Hum-
boldt. This river they followed until they found that **it lost
itself in a great swampy lake (the sink of the Humboldt), to which
there was no opparent discharge." From here the party crossed
the Sierra Nevada and made their way to Monterey. Bonneville"''
party was thus the first to explore and map the route afterwarC
generallv followed by emigrants, and along which the Central Pa-
cifio— the first trans-continental railroad— was built. The pecuhai
course of Bear River, here already noticed, was shown on this
map. and the general character of the drainage of the Paeifi
coast was, for the first time, correctly indicated by Bonneville
The first working out of anv of the details of the topography ot
the Great Basin is due to Butler Ives, a topographer in the em-
ploy of the Central Pacific Railroad, the directors of this work
having been desirous of ascertaining whethe" there was any prao-
ticable route across the Bas.n other than that through the vallej
of the Humboldt; ■;vhich, however, was the one ultimatelj
adoi'ted. all other routes having been found too difiicult. Stili
further and more detaileil explorations and surveys were made
on thr western aide of the Basin, fir^t by the California GeologiotU
I Survey, and later by rhe United States Engineers; and a belt 1
THE AI>P/-I^CHIA.N' REGION.] UNITE3J STATES
(95
faandred iriles in width was also surveyed across this region, start-
ing from the crest of the Sien a Nevada and going *■ ust to the
easiL-rn i)H--e i.t the Rocky Mouulains. Tlii> bvlt was the tield
occupied by the Fortieth Parallel Survey under the direction uf
Clareuce King
toposraphy The top. graphy of the Great Basin is wholly peculiar, and
of the bear> iiu re>emblauce to either of the two just mentioned. It oon-
4reat tai is a large number of ranges, all of whicu are very narrow and
''~ein, short, separated from each other by wide intervals of smooth.
^ barren plains. Ih- mounlaias are of a low itrder of magnitude
for the most pan though some of the ninges and peaks attain
considerable dimeusion.-i. Their appearance is strikingly differ-
snt from the noble -ml picturesque outlines displa>ed in Colo-
rid j. They are jigg d. wild and ungracetui in thtir aspect, and,
whether viewed from far or near, repel rather than invite the im-
■i;:i!iutioD.
The ^Vahsatch. however, is an exception. This noble range is
properly a part of the B isin Province, and is one of the fine-t and
jjost picturesque of the West, but so complett ly does it contrast
»ith (he otb' r ba-in ^-an^es that it m ly be regarded as an auom-
Uy amtiug them ih,* topographic.il features of this region are
riso fount outside of the limits which Fremont asriigned to the
ireat Basin, and reach >outhward towards Arizona, and north-
rard towards Idaho and Oregon.
This Great Ba-in is ot enormous extent, compri-ing nearly all of
STevada and large part» of (_'tah, Wyoming, iddho» Oregon, and
California. Inst'-ad of being one great basin as its name implies.
It cotisists in reality of a number of smaller basins. It is trav-
sraed by a series or narrow ranges, which are in general highly
sontiiiuous. extending -iometiraes for hundred-: of miles, having a
general north and south trend. Between these rang-s lie narrow,
flat valleys floored with detritus from the innnntain-i. The rain-
fall over this region is so light, and the atmosphere so dry, that
there are few living .streams within its whole expanse. The little
rivulets which trickle down the mountain side in th'^ spring are
absorbed in the valleys at their bases, so that each vail y in very
many cases is a sink for its own waters. On the east and the west
sides, however, at the bases respectively of the Wahsatch and the
Sierra Nevada, is a lake, or a series of lakes, into which flow con-
siderable bodies of water fiom these ranges.
buRonnd- On the east is Great -alt Lake, having an extent of 2,310 square
ings of miles, and receiving drainage from an area of 32 400 square miles.
Oreat the larger p-irt of which consists of high mountains- The rapidity
Basin. of evaporation in this dry climate is so great that the lake is kept
at approximately the same level despite the liberal contributions
made to it by its tributary streams.
The midtllt" portion of the basin, along a line running down
3astern Nevada, ts more elevated than that of the oast or the west
side, forming ii sort of division, or water partitig, between the two
portions. Such of tlie w-iters as do not immediately sink flow off
toward the (irear Salt T..ake on the one side and the sinks at the
base of the Sierra-^ on th ^ other. The latter are known as the
Cars>n f,.akeund sink. Humboldt Lake, Mud and Pyramid Lakes.
forming a line nltng the western part of Nevada.
Into thi- sysT.-m uf sinks flow it.»t only the streams from the
east ^lope of the Sierras, but ihi Humboldt River— a stream
which rises in northwestern Utah, and, flowing directly across the
trends of number!--ss ranges, receiving more or less water from
them all, reaches the Carson sink scarcely larger than at its head.
A third system of sink« may he mentioned, viz.. that lying in
central Oregon, of which Harney's Lake is the principal one.
The Pacific It remains to give a slight sketch of the ranL'es of the Pacific
Division. divt?ion. They co-isist of the >^ierra Nevada of California, the
Casf~ade range of Oregon and Wa'^hington Territory, au"! the sys-
tem of Coa-t ranges which border the Pacific. These ranges have
one very marked feature iu common: they are almost precisely
parallel throughout to The line of the Pacific coist. Trending in
the southern half considerably t-ast of south, they turn at about
the parallel of 42° to fl course almost directly north.
Cascade The great mass of the Cascade range has the form of a volcanic
range. plateau of an eleviiti »n very Utile above the country on its east-
ern bord' r. At inrervals along its crest, however, are stationed
high volcanic neaks, ranging from SjMiO to more than H.'ifiO feet
above sea-level. .Among the^e may be mentioned Mount Rainier,
in Wjts^ington territory, 14.444 feet high; Mount Shasta. 14.442
fe?t liigh. in I'alifomia: and Mount Hood, in Oregon, 11.22"^ feet
in height. In ni>rth'?rn California, jist south of Mount Sha«ta.
the range is very much broken down, and at this point the Pitt
Riv^r, the head stream of the Sacramento, has cut its wiy
through the range into California. Beyond this gorge aaain the
range cmtinues. with but slight change in its charact'Tistic:!. until
we have passed the head of the Feather River, where its char-
acter changes from that of a vidcanic range to one of granite and
gneissic rocks. With this changs comes an increase in elevation,
at first gradual, hut ultimately attaining enormous proportions
about latitude 36° 30'. Here the range has a great breadth, while
most of the p'-aks reach elevations of more than U.Ono f-'ct. and
the passes hive an elevation of about 12.00'^ feet. In this region
is the highest peak of the Sierras, Mount Whitney, which falls but
little short of 15,000 feet, and is the culminating point of this
KTOUP.
West of the Sierras^and the Cascades lies the great valley ex-
tending from Puget Sound southward into the lower part of
California. It is walled in from the Pacific on the west by the
Ooaat ranges. In Washington territory it is drained by numerous
minor streams flowing through the Cascade and the Coast
rangesinto the Columbia River and Puget Sound. In Oregon it
comprises the valley uf the Willamette and the upper valleys of
. Itie Rogue and the Umpqua Rivers. In California it comprises the
\ Valley of the Sacramento and th*^ San Joaquin. These valleys are
Separa'ted from one another by cross ranges of mountains, which
T-iave the character of spurs sent down by the Cascade range, join-
ing the Coast ranges on the west. The great valley is terminated
by the westward trend of the Coast ranges and :heir Junction with
the Sierra Nevada in southern Calitoinui.
Of the Coast raiiges litih- need be said. e.\cc['t ihat they are of Coa^t
minor elevation compared witli ihc eastern part ot tb. s.\ --[cm, rangea.
ranging from 3.i.ill) to 4,t W feet south of ilie bay of fcan Frauei^co
to.5.nunorti,()(y0 feet in the northern part of the btaie. 1 hey
have, howevt-r, a very iinportai.t < ffect in inodifj ing the climated
of the great valey— an « ff^ct quite as important as tliOt ot the>
Sierra Nevada and the Casc;d>- ranges upon the elininteol tho
region lying to the east of them Want of navigability is the
characteristic of all the s-ti earns which diain th t oidillems. In-
stead of va--t stretches open to sttam niiv t,ution, as ^\iih the
Mls^issippi and iis tributaries, allowing aeee>> to areas 2,1-10 and
S.ljOO miles away trom its mouth \\v ha\ e the Colorado, which i> uf «
little account for the purposes of n:ivigation. the Columlua. with
two portages before the Ca>ca*le ranye is crossed, and the Sacra-
mento and the San Joaquin, navigalde for modi rate sized boats
for only a few score ot mdes. Wiih these exc( piions there is no
stream ot any importance op- nmg ate vs to the inteiior along the
whide Pacific coast. On ihe uiher hand, the amount ci water- lUvert.
power stored in the strt ams of the west is tabulous. All the
streams fall rapidly through nearly iheir entire courses, and in
and near the mountains there is an abundance of water.
THE APPALACHIAN RKGION.
Leaving now the Cordilleras, we have next to consider the east-
ern border of our tenitory — the northeast and Bouthwesl Irend-
iijg mass of ranges— known a> the Appalachian region. In this
portion of our brief resume of the physical features oi the United
States we shall have to rely mainly on the labors of oih rs. and
especially on ihose of Prof. (Juyot and of Prof J. P. Leslie, ot tho
Pennsylvania Geological Survty. who have labored with grcni
zeal and ability in milking the topography of our eastern border
intelligible f
A ghince at the map shows that the central portion of Norili'
America, tnm the Gull of Mexico to the Arctic ocean, is a rcgio: '
of great rivers and lakes, and not of mountains. A sinking f J
the land of le.'S than 1,(1110 feet would open a water-way tlnougiil
from north to souih ; 2.0* 0 feet of such a sinking, or an equivalent'
rise of the ocean, would divide our territory into two distinct ami
remote portions. On the east we should have a cumparativelyj
narrow belt of land, extending in a northeast and southwest,
direction from Pennsylvania to Georgia, with groups of lutlying
islands on the north, especially in about latitude 44°, ~?here tho
tops of the Green, the White, and the Adirondack mountains
would rise in the form of lofty and precipitous islands above th©
waste of waters. On the west the mass of land remaining uncov-
ered W' uld be of grand, almost continental dimensions, for its
breadth would be lully equal to 1,500 miles, narrowing as we fol-
lowed itnorthrtard. while in length, north and south, it would
extend entinly across our present territory. The breadth of
the ocean separating these masses of land would be not far from
a thousand mill's.
The Appalachian chain extends from the promontory of Gaspe, Appala-
in a general S"uthwesterly direction, for a distance of about 1.300 chian chain,
miles, into Alabama, where it dies out. and is buried under the
horizontal strata of more recent geological formations, which
cover nearly the whole surface of that state. The base from
which this chain rises on the eastern side is the Atlantic seaboard,
wh'ch, in the early history of the United States, seemed to be the
whole country, and which is still commercially the must impor-
tant, and is the seat of our largest cities. The plain is slightly
inclined toward the Atlantic, and its elevation aljove the sea ia
inconsidenible. In New England it hardly exceeds 3'A) to4i 0 feet;
but toward the south, after passing the bay of Js' w York, where
it is nearly at the sea level, it gains in altitude, andalso in width,
finally attaining a height of a thousand feet at the base of the
mountains and a breadth of some 2' 0 miles. The western base of
the Appalachian range is a plateau reeion, which descends grad-
ually toward the gn at lakes and the tributaries of the Ohio hav-
ing a general elevation of a thousand feet or more, but deeply
gashed by the streams \^hich traverse it and run in valleys
depressed from 300 to 500 feet below the general level of the
country.
The Appalachian chain presents, in many of its features, a most
marked contrast to the Cordilleras just described. Prof. Guyot
calls- attention to a conspicuous feature of the most folded portion
of the Appalachians, characterizing the chain through its entire
length; that is, the existence of a great central valhv. running
through the system from northeast t'^ southwest, which can bo
traced without difficulty, although not perfectly uniform in its
development. Itjs the Lake Champlain and Hudson River vulley ia
New York, the Kitta tinny vitlhy of Pennsylvania, the gnrat vniley-
of Virginia, andfinally still farther south, the valley of East Ten-
nessee. The chain, or the system of chains, bordering this central
depression on the southeast is also a persistent feature of the Appa-
lachian system; for it extends, with but few interruptions, from
Vermont to Alabama, being known by a variety of names .is it
passe.s from one state into another. It is the Green Mountain rnngo
of Vermont, the Highlands of New York, the South Mountains of
Pennsylvania, the Blue Ridge, of Virginia, and, finally, the Iron,
Smoky, and Unaka mountains of North Carolina and Tennesste.
Possessing these f*^aturcs in common as a whole, the Appa-
lachian chain presents three subd.visions. each exhibiting its own
well-marked peculiarity of structure. These are the northern,
extending from Gaspe to the Hudson; the middle, from New York
to the Kanawha, or New river, in Virginia: the southern from
New river to the southwestern extremity of the system. Each of
these subdivisions has its peculiar curvature aid general direction.
The northern trends to the north from the Hudson river to near
the Canada line, there bends to the eastward, sweeping a sreat
<y(j
UNITED STATES [the Appalachian region.
•urve so m to present on the whole its concaTi y to the fouth^t ,
Srm ddirsubdivision also carvis quite regularly, the ridgis trend-
Sl Som e^t and west around to southwest, so -bat the concavity
We"thittlantic shore; while the most southern portion of the
S^ge from New river southward, bends to the west agam, so as
Tform a gentle curve ooncare toward the northwest,
T°e mon northern division of the three is quite distinct f roin the
men "tsomh. both geographically and geologically It includes
»U the mJunnin groups £nd ranges north and east of the valk-5S
If the Mohawk aSd the Hudson rivers, which make a coin,. lete
,reak through the system, both veitically and longitudinall> .
forming the great natunil highway between the east and the wc.t
Ir between lh» great lakes and the Atl.tntic seaboard Ihis was
ttefirTtroVte across the country which wa^ traversed by canul
Sid bv railroad So complete is the physical break here that a ru-e
Sf the ocean of 4(.^1 feet only would separate all the extensive region
included between the Jl. Lawrence, the Atlantic ocean, and the
Hudson and Mohawk valleys into a great island entirely detached
from IheTest of the continent. A rise of only 110 feet onl.v would
dtetech all that country which lies east of the Hudson and Lake
^eoeraph- *^'fn°'any''geographical tre.tment of this eastera group of the
Si tr-S?- Appaffilns the subdivisions .taken wil necessarily be rather
^n t artlSl. for the mass of elevation is verj irregular in its dev elop-
ment The most continuous ranges are the White mountains, the
Green tnou^tains, and the Adirondacks Of the first namea
erouo Mount Washington is the culuunating point, 6.^ tcet
high?of the last mentioned. Tahaw:is. or.Mount Marcy. with an
a titude of 5.37ii feet, is the dominating peak, (rreylock, in
Ma-achusetts I3..i05 feet), and Mount Mansfield, in Vermont,
i rx \ feet are the highest points in ihose states.
-Thi line of summits e.'.t'ending through Massachusetts and^ew
Hamp-hire. beginning with Wachusett. on the south, and extend-
WigTiP ti the White mountains through Monadnock. Sunapee
Kear'ar-e. and other peaks, is broken and irregular. Both the
White mountains and the Adirondacks are rather iso ated miu-ses
whUe the Hr.en Mountains proper arc in more intimate connection
with t tie Canadian range, which terminates m (jaspe.
''The Cennal division' of. the ^ppala.ehian chain ex ends from
the Hudson river to the lianawha, which makes an almost com-
plete "ut across the chain, heading ,n the Blue Ridge and mark-
fng an important change in the character of the topography
This central division is ab .ut Wi miles in length. It i-- very
narrow toward its northern end. but widens out in Pennsylvania,
decreeing again in Virginia. It is composed of a considerable
Sumbtr of subordinate chains, much curved toward the Vest, and
?eiSirkable for their regularity, their parallelism, their abrupt
deSivities. and their moderate elevation, both relative and abso-
Inte which rarely rises to 2.5''0 feet above the sea-level.
'°Wcrt of this division of the APP-'lachiancham is thereat p ^
teau which occupies all that part of New \ork which lies
Tomh of the Mohawk, and also the northwestern ^art of Pennsy -
vania. and reaches an elevation near Lake Erie ot A''"'(. jeet.
From this table-land the drainage descends by the great laj^e. to
the St Lawrence to the Gulf of Me.xico by the Ohio and to the
Atlantic by the Susquehanna, which breaks across the wbole
ehai.°, findfng its wav^ in the most unexpected manner through
^"ILrtopo-g^if hy of* .^h\"i1palachians in .Pennsylvania h^ been
earefullv worked out by the State Geological survey, and t u so
remarkable in its character that some additional details may
wiTh propriety be given in regard to that portion.of the chain
Areording to Prof. H. D. Rogers, the mountain-zone of Penn-
sylvania may be divided into five welUmarked parallel belts,
which are a/ follows, when enumerated in order from the. east
"owird the west: 1st. The South mountains, already mentioned
as being the continuatioT, of the Highlands 0 New York, and the
Iquivalent of the Blue Ridge ot VirgWia 2d, The. great Appa-
bchian vallev. 3d. The central Appalachian ridges, or the
Appalachian chain proper. 4th. The sub-Al egha.y valley 5th^
The Alleghany .Mountain, or the southeast escarpment of the
^Thf South Mountains have already been alluded to as part of
thesystem of ranges bordering the great central, depression of the
AppalachTans on the east. In Pennsylyani.a this belt consists of
^o detached ranges of hills, one of which is the prolongationof
ihe New York Highlands, the other the northeastern termination
of the Blue Ridge Both of these groups of hills have a uioderate
elevation in Pennsylvania, hardly exceeding 600 or ,00 fft- -
The Appakchian valley, or Kittatinny valley, as it is usually
called in Pennsylvania, stretches from the Delaware to Maryland,
forming a part of the great central valley previously mentioned.
It has an ekvation of from .2CM1 to .btiO feet., and forms a bro^d,
moderately undulating plain having a ^idth of from 10 to 18
miles. This valley is. beyond doubt, one of the most favored
parts of our country-climate, soil, mmera resources, and scenery
all combining to make it attractive to settlers. ,
The third division, or the Appalachi.an chain proper, may De
thus de-cribed. using nearly the language of Professor M. u.
Kogers: It is a complex chain of long, narrow very evel moun-
tain ridges, separated bv long, narrow, paral el valleys, l.hese
ridges sometimes end abmptly in sivolling knobs, and sometimes
tape' off in long, slender points. Their slopes are singularly uni-
form', being in many cases unvaried by ravine or gully for many
miles: in other instances, they are trenched at equal intervals
with great rezularitv. Their crests are, tor the most part, snarp,
and they preserve an extremely equable elevation, being only
here and there interrupted by notches or gaps, which.sometimes
descend to the water-level, so as to give passage .to the nvejf • Jhe
whole range is the combined result of .an elevation of the strata in
.one. slender, parallel ridges, wave-like in form, and of excessive
aosion of them by water; and the present configuration ot tne
Lrode™tra"a are variously arranged in gj-o»f'f''>'™| "ar-
row cre-t« s..me of which preserve remarkable straightnes tor
Br"at dis iuce" while others bend with a prolonged and re^-u ar
fweep In many instances .two narrow. ;;on">;uo«s parallel
SS;^SS7SsSiiSS5SHs^;^
"^Nor'^th of ?he great lakes and the St. Lawrence, howe.ver. there U
cut tTe ehJ'n? and 4?««3 eet is'^^ven as the approximate eUv a.
no,°ed T/T°m"\C over alhtsand lake" have already, been laid
iliflislpllips
of "Tide Marshes": - '
tween high-water m.ark on the .f^re and the be.Kme or „ ,
Farther southward the "reaatn oi uui. ^, .' , ,u jg insijo
coast increases. On the eastern shore of Maryland there . ^^^
of the line ot reefs a^^ectionseveralmile^^nte ^^^^^^_
"YnT/rrOapi-nl t^he^^es inclose ^^^^^%,!^l
DV Professor W. C. Werr {Geology of .\orin ^ '■[^."'.'".t^rt Banks."
"We chain of long, l'°ear sand is and^ caM The Bank.^.^
which fringe the en"re coast. con^tUutes a vey- r^^^ ^^^
ture of theregion ;j^^ough composed oiar s_^_^^.^ They are,
an impregnable harrier to the wa^.e-;0; ' j f^„ fee, „bove
in fact, sand dunes "f va/'ouy^^^fe^bv stoni- tides) to 2.5 or 3f
tide level (in m.»''J/«f''' L° in KilHevil hills, along Corrimoi
^rund:"ThrbrdUi°f"thes; viands varies from a few rod.jj
.'HE POLITICAL SCBDIVISlOXS.i UNITED STATES
797
nore than 2 mile;-. The largest of tfaeio, and the wiaest. is known
AS Uattela^ Ulaud. th^; easteriitiio>t point of which ia thi well-
knowu cape uatieras. Thest.- mlauds are composed partlj ot flat
m:u-?ties and partly of swell.- and ridges of beach-sand, which the
wind has heaped \u ridges, orten lar beyond the reach ot the
highest wave>.
As the sand and conui.inuted shells are lulled back in wares
fi-om the beach, t>y the winds, they are m tart caught and fixed by
•traggling tufts of coarse gras;^. which has the puwer ot continuous
stowth upward wuh the rise of the knobs and ridges of saud. and
Uiey :ire in part carried uver into the flats and murshes and the
LhalioK sounds beyond, which are thus gradutilly silting up. The
^nk^ are generally covered with low, scrubby thickets of cedur,
live-oak, pine, yaupon, ujyrtle, and a number of smaller shiubby
pj.vths.
• ^ampe, pocosinsf and <acanna«— There is a large aggregate
C* tciiitory ^between S.'AV and 4.t.«.U square miles), mostly iu the
ttC'^nties bordering on the sea and the sounds, known as swamp
toi'd.-. They are locally designated "dismals," or "pocosins." of
•9t±v-ti the Great l>isuial Swamp, on tht- bo'-ders of North Carolina
jad Virginia, is a g<:)od type. They d.ffer essentially in their
tfiaracteristic features from an ordinary swamp. They are not
ij.'iuvjal tracts, or subject to overflow. On the contrary* they
v» -IT on the divides or water-sheds between the rivers and sounds,
ftna ire frequently elevated many feet above the adjaceut streams.
Cf "hich they are the sources. Some of tiiem are in large part
idre peat swamps or b..gs. being chamcteriztd by the occurrence
Di an accumulation of decjii e 1 and de:aymg vegetation, from 1 or
J to lu feet deep and even more, which, with the growing plants,
acts as a sponge, arresting or retarding the escape of the rain-
water, whetQcr by evaporation or sfflux. The prominent ingrcdi-
euis are peat and fine sand, in various proportions, and, when of
iuy agricultural value at alt. there arc also small proportions of
clay, iron, lime, and alkalies. The vegetation varies with the
character of the .-oil. and server, therefore, as an index of its fer-
tility. The prevalent growth of the best swamp soils is blackgum,
popiar* cypress, ash. aud maple. As the sjil becomes more peaty,
the proportion of cyprtss increases. AVhere juniper abounds
peat is in excess, aud the soil of little value or none. On the best
lauds there is often besides a rank growth of canes: but such a
growth ix also often found on soils too peaty to be of any value.
iluch of the poorest and most worthless tracts of swamp, which
are covered with several feet of half-decayed wood and other
Fvg_'table matter saturated with water, is occupied by a stunted
and scattered growth of bay, swamp pine, and other scrubby vege-
tation; or, if the drainage be a little better, with a thickety growth
of bays, gallb,rries, and a f-^w oth- r shrubs, with an occasional
piue and mapie. .Most of the large bodies of swamp contain lands
ttelonging to ali these descriptions, and inclo>e. besides, within
their ooundaries, knolU, bnmmocks. belts, and ridges, like islands,
of firm land, and some of them larg- areas of barren, sandy soil.
■covered wiili a tangle of brambles and tufts of sedge, aiid in the
middle of sjTeral uf ihem uccur fresh-water lakes of considerable
extent.
These sw;.mi'8 are, laken as a whole, quite well settled, a large
oroportion of the inhabitants being colored- This is particularly the
:ase in South Carolina, in which state much of the swampy lower
ooast region i= utilized fur rice plantations. The Okeefenokee
rwamp. of Gv-orgia and Florida, is rather an inland swamp, and is
c scribed elsewhere. Tue Everglades of Florida, which appear to
alfer great difficulties to sjttlement, are also sketched in another
part of this n-port. Tde iswampy region along the coast extends.-
Tvith but few minor interruptions, all the way down the Atlantic
coast and around the Gulf. It is not. however. >o markedly
.•characteristic along the Gulf coast in Alabama and Missi«>ipiti as
jarther west, in Loui.-iana it has a great breadth, and is almost
uninhabitable, in Texas, alih lOgh the character of the coast
^ontijiues to be ihe same s<» far as relates to the line of low. sandy,
>utlyiijg islands, yet the area of the coast swamp becomes very
much 1--SS, being confined to a small patch about the Sabine lake
ind narrow strips along a number of the streams. Whether it is
iue to geological c;tuset. or to the lighter rainfall upon this sec-
ii.m «f the coast, is a question which there is not space to discuss
Tiere.
The broken, irregular course of the whole Atlantic and Gulf
riast affords many excellent harbors, particularly on the New
iJ!sland coast, where the harbors are laree. deep, and well .'hel-
! ed; farther southward the entrances are narrow and shelving.
* i are liable to be choked up by sand drifts d in by storms. The
» .-earns in nearly all ca-;es form bars across their months, formed
\ • thedetritu^ brought down from the upper waters.
The Pacific coast, as compared to the Atlantic, is extremely fira-
^9. It contains few harbors of any value to navigation. Th'^se
■Cl S'Mi Diego and San Francisco are the principal and almost the
:.:ly one^. The coast is. in geneial, bluff and rocky, and the water
]S leep immediately off .-hore.
THE POLITICAL AND NATTRAL SrSDI VISIONS.
' HaTiDg given a description of the physical character of the
^ea covered by the United States, without reference to political
divisions, it become? necessary to ttate how this region is divided
politically, and how these divisions can be grouped, in a manner
Bf nattiral :is possible.
(SotQ© difficullieii are thrown in the way of such a subdivision
't thecountry as shall meet with general acceptance by the fact
dMt some of the State.* and Territories are so large that they
H^lude areas of very different physical character; and also
lecansea nomenclature was introduced, and extensively made
as©cf, when one hni" the present area of the country was so little
f^cvQ or considered that a name for it was not thought of as
4ei£S necessary.
*r»:' ->.-o«,/*ft|j9 United State."! is at present divided into for»v-
niue subdivisions, excluding Alaska. There are forty-four Statea-
three Territories, and t«o other subdivisions, neither States n(^
Territories— the District of Columbia and the Indian Territory.
Any Territory is likely, at any time, to be received into the
Union a> :i State; and this may be done by subdividing the Ter«
riiory. making a State of one portion and allowing the remain-
der to remain in a Territorial condition, or by admitting the
whole as one State, or by Jividing it into two oi ^j.. re States. Oiiiv
once has a State been divided alter having been received intotb?
Union— namely, Virginia— and this was the result of the civil
War; and it is not possible to say under what circumstances such
a thing is likely to happen again. Nor has any State been
remanded back to the Territorial condition after having been
received into the Union; although one State— Xevada—ha:sles9
than half the population required for the election of one repre-
sentative to Cong^e^s. accordiirgto the last apportionment, basecf
on the census ot 1880. There is, in fact.no provision in the Con
stitutiun for this exigency.
The desirability of grouping these forty-nine political divi-ion:
(Alaska being oniitted as not continuous with the re.^t of the
Uniied States' according to thir geographical situation ana
topographical ^nd clirnuiic conditions, so that diflterent regions
may be spoken of by sonic collective name, will be evident to all.
The plan suggested for the subdivision of the area included
within the United States by Mr. Gannett, geographer of the census
of 18&0, was '"to divide the country into three great divisions, cor-
responding to the three primary topographical divisions of the
country: ih* Atinniic region, the region of the Great Valley, and
the Western or Cordilleran region.*' The physical character of these
different regions has already been indicated at some length in Pfiy-«.-il
the preceding pages. The region of the Great Valley is called by Chunictei..
Mr. Gannett tht' Central Region, which is again subdivided into
two parts— the Northern Central and the Southern Central— the
Ohio River and the southern boundary of Missouri and Kansas
being the dividing line. The Atlflntie iJJvision is also divideJ by
him into two subdivisions by a line following the south boundary
of Pennsylvania and New Jersey — these two subdivisions biii:e
called, respectively, the North Atlantic and South Atlantic
divisions. On the east, ihe Western or Cordilleran division is
marked by the eastern boundaries of New Mexico, Colorado,
Wyoming and Montana.
The following table shows the area of each of these divlsioni in poli ical
square miles and in percentage of the entire area of the United ■iivisioua.
States:—
Area. Percentage of total area.
North Atlantic IGS.Tio 5.6
South Atlantic (includ-
ing Delaware Bay)... 2S3.155 9.4
Northern Central 765.8n5 25.3
Southern Central 6U.550 20.3
Weitem 1.193.275 39.4
Total 3.025.600 100.0
[In the Western Division, as here limited, Mr. Gannett includes
an area of 5,740 square miles of "unorganized territory," lying
north of Texas and west of the Indian Territory.]
The adoption of this scheme of subdivision of the country doe«
not the lets render desirable and convenient for various purpose*
a different n"menclature for certain regions, based more exclu"
sivth'on geographical position. Thus the States bordering on
the Gulf of Mexico will naturally often be spoken of as the Gulf
States: the region of the (xreat Lakes will be so designated, and
this again subdivided into the Upper and Lower Lake Regions;
while each great river will give a nam© to its own adjacent region,
as theOhio Valley, the Upper and Lower Mississippi Valley, the
Upper Missouri, etc.
Appended is a statement of the names of the political divi-
sions included in each subdivision of the United States, as sug-
gested by Mr. Gannett:
Division. Subdivision. States Within Subdivision.
Atlantic.
Central.
Western.
North Atlantic.
South Atlantic.
Northern Central.
Southern Central.
Maine. New Hampshire,
Vermont, Massachusetts,
Rhode Island, Connecticut,
New York, New Jersey,
Pennsylvania.
Delaware, Maryland. Vir-
ginia, West Viginia. North
Carolina, South Carolina
Georgia, Florida.
Ohio. Indiana, Illlooia
Michig;in. Wisconsin Minne
sota. North Dakota. South
Dakota, Iowa. Nebraska,
Kansas, Missouri.
Kentucky, Tennessee. .Ala-
bama, Mississippi. Arkansas,
Indian Territory, Louisiana,
Texas.
Montana. Idaho, W^yoming,
Colorado, New Mexico, Utah.
Nevada, Arizona. Washings
ton. Oregon. California,
7bo
11 N 1 T E E STATES
[climate.
The tabular statement following elves for the States and Tern-'
tories a rtsumeot their areiiy. population in 1 8^0 and Ibyu, pop-
ulation per square mile at the latter date, and the increase per
cent, during tne decade 1881-90. The Territories are given in
italics in the table.
POLITICAL AND NATURAL DIVISIONS.
Areas and Population— Census op 1890.
d Sac
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* This includes "Unorganized Territory." t Estimate.
CLIMATE.
In endeavoring to set forth the principal fi'ittures of the climate
of the United St«t*'R. it will br a-sura' d that the reader hii^ made
bim^elt Mcquainted with the topography of the country, a^ briefly
mdifated in the preceding pages. The great infltiemy which
certiiin uf th^se features have on the distribution of the wmds, the
rainfall, imd the temperature will bo sufficiently appan-nt from
that whirh follows.
The I'nited State? extends from the tropics north across the
temperate zone, and from sen-level to an eU^vation of over H-^
feet— an elevation which carries with it an arctic climntt'. The
mean annual temperature ranges over more than 40"^ F.. while
the extremes ot recorded temperature run from 65° below zero
UP to a maximum above 115°. The mean temperature of the hottest
month of the yi';ir, July, ranges from below 6u° to above 90°,
while the mean iciupcratur? of the coldest mouth ranges fromj
zero to ni -ro thin 66°. Were the country a plain, the mean
tempiT.iture uf ihe year would be almost purely a Ciue^tion of
latitude; aditfercnce of elevation, howeve^. especially when it
takes the form of a inountaiu range, causes a deflection southward
of the isothermiils, an abrupt rise of about SOU feet of elevation
iiiipl>ins a deerease of annual temperature of one degree.
Tinis v,e fi id thiit the Appalachian system causesa very marked
deflection to the ^outh*' aid of th.' i?;uthermals. On the plains, how-
ever.where iheiip.vardslopeis verygradual.itistobenoied thatthe
elevntion causes little or no dcflectinn southward of the lines of
temperLituie, the plains and plateaus generally having a mean
annual t'mpeiature nearly or quite as high as puiots in the snme
latitude in the Mississippi valley or on the Atlantic coa>t. The
temp ratnro of tin? greiit we>tern plains and plateaus is, however,
modified locally to a marked extent by the exposure to west and
northwest winds, ■which have an unbroken sweep in some pinces '
for hundreds of miles, acquiring tremendous force. Attention
should he called h re to the well-known fact that the climate of
central Montuni, including mo^t of the settlements on the upper
Missouri, is abnormally warm. It lies at a couipnnitively low
elevation, being only S.UOl.t to 4.00(J feet above sea-level, and is
sheltered from the fierce westerly winds by the Missouri range,
while the northerly winds, to which it is exposed, come from the
moisture plains of the Saskatchewan.
The two maps showing the m' an temperature of the warmest
month. July, and the mean t-mperature of the coldest month,
January, as given in the Uniti d States Census for ]88u,V(d. 1— il-
lustrate, though only to a limited extent, the range of temperar
ture in different sectioiis of thn country. Ihe former ehows a
comparativelyliniitednumber of grades, running from 60° to 90°,
the lines following approximately the parallels of latitude, except
where d fleeted by mountain masses. The influence of the coast
in averaging tho climate is distinctlv perceptible on this map.
There is apparently a northward movement of the temperature
lines in the Cordilleran region, showing that in the summer the
temperature is abnormally high in this arid section. These
characteristics are iUustrnted conversely by the January map,
which also shows the influence of the sea and other larce bodies
of water, while iw the Cordilleran regien the temperature lines are
borne southward by the aridity and consequently extreme char-
acter of the climate. The fourth_ of these temperature maps,
showing a generalization from the highest recorded readings of the
thermometer, coupled with the fifth map, which shows a similar
generalization with regard to tho minimum temperature, illus-
trates the extreme range of the thermometer in different parts of
thecmntry. In the former wese-eabelt running along the sear
coasf from Maine to Texas, where the thermotneter never rises
abive inH°. while within it is a region, stretching from New York
southward along the Atlantic plain and the lower Mississippi
valley, where the maximum reaches 106°. thus illustrating in the
clearest manner th i effect of the sea in averaging the i- mpera-
ture. Thes^me thing is illustrated, though not so markedly, upon
the map of min'mum temperatures.
Tlie fourth map shows also another peculiar characteristic, viz,
the fact that as we pass up the slope of the plains the maximum
temperature increases, not on a paiallel. as in the case of the
mean annual temperature, but approximately on a contour or on
a meridian, being apparently proportional to the aridity of the
atmosphere and the amount of rainfall. This characteristic is. to
a certain extent, disguised in the heart of the^ Cordilleran region
by reason of the great diver-ity of surface which is encountered
there, but in g'-ncral it holds good throughout.
The map showing minimum temperatures is not so clear on
these points. Its lines follow parallels more nearly ; but there is
a marked deflection ti^ward th' southwest as we pass westward
from the Mississippi vdlley. The characteristics of this map are
still further concealed by the effect of the details of topogrftphy
in the Cordilleran region. A marked change in temperature, ae
well ns in rainfall, takes place at the crest line of the Sierra
Nevada and the Cascade range. This change is not particu-
larly apparent in the mean annual temperature, but on the map
showing the temperature of July and January it is quite apparent,
being shown by the slight difference between these maps At the
bay of San Francisco the difference between the mean t-uipera-
ture of July and that of January is but 10°. This effect is still
more marked in the last two maps, where, ic the Mississippi val-
ley, the range between maximum and minimum averwges 110°,
and in the Cordilleran region 12.i°. On the Pacific coast it do-
creases to only tSO°. showing that this section of the country enjoys
by far the most uniformclimateas regards temperature.
"The material for these temperature and rainfall n^aps was
drawn mainy fnnn "Temperature Tables" and "Rainfall Tables"
prepared bv Professor Charles A- Schott, and published hy the
SuiithsotLiiin Institution. The map of mean annual temperature
was compiled, verv largely, directly from Mr Schott's admirable
chart in the first of the above-mentioned volumes. The rainfall
maps we.e prepar<'d previous to the publication of the last edition
of the Smithsonian "Rainfall Tables." and. as much new ma'ertal
had been collected in addition to that published in the first
edtion, the mops were plotted from original sources.
No le-s thnni'S per cent of the total population hve-^ between
40°ftnd7'° F. of mean annual temperature. leaving a v ry «mal!
proportion to be distributed among the other sections Of tliese
groups, those having a temperature above 55° contain 'he • nfire
cotton region; those above 7n°. the sugar and rice retrions; while
between 50° and 0"° i- c^-mp-is' d most of the tobacco retrion. The
prnirip region of the Mississippi valley lies almost entirely belo«
55°, while the great wheat region of Minnesota and Dakota ii
mainly below 4*^° of mean annual temperature.
<»L,T5k V t£. \
UNITED 3Ti^TES
m
ITiehx^es^ r*rtof the country is. naiuraHy. lue southern end
oi Ploiidi. iui'9 southern T" xa:> aud soulhwestcru Arizona come
Ucit ia i give "I Icmper.iLurc.
A rough c<.'Ujputation shows that the mean annual tempera-
tare of the couniry is about 5.>° F.. to wiii.ii th ■ loc^itiun of the
ptpu! :liju almost v^Mjisely corresponds, uificiiug from it by only
A f r>tctio:i of a doj? ee.
U' I- give beii*w a tt?ble prepared by selection fn-m the volumi-
nau* le.'ord? of the lev-ent work oii American lemp..iature, show-
ing 'h.' ineau annual tvmpe.-murc of the atm* sphere at a given
point m each of the 5o."iv nine t^tates and Terri.orics of the Union,
rh ■ pi ice iis seleeitd li oi^her ibe eapitnl or >omc leading city or
town where obserxatias ba\e b,en mo^l continuously kept:
. - = a-: p •< : : ?•. . • . ; 1^= • g ■" = .« ; • F
^; i ; : } : I- ; : i ; = : : -: i 1 : : :
o
A
-mrnmmimmm
; ; ; : p I S-* f 5: : : op f £.; : s'. : . I
.^ *■ .*- -"■ ^ ~ 2" ^"^ :t ^- -^ i^ -? -" .~ K" ^T ■*^ S $ ^ ^ 3: ^ X?
Mean
annual
temper-
ature.
c ii tf i li i lis 1 i-M t s i i III i:
l.5<i-i.i- 'i-~^5. i^<2^=5-? = = i
5H|fS::i?i:<:;|-s..:.ii.rs?f
: : 5;5;i :: : -|5.i : £1 g-l.! : i : -
; ; f pi i : ! : ? rr : : 1 : ; : q : : : : :
c
%
o
c
|=r||=3: P5-;|-£r: =-fr5.! : if
? ; ; i ; i q^i : i i ; i = i i ; : ; g^; : ; ;
:•:::::::::::.::::::=::::
2
o
<
cooooooooooooooooooooooo
Moan
annu a 1
temper-
ature.
The position of the isothermal lines in the United States may
now be noticed ; and in this connection the influence of the topog-
raphy of the country becomes at once extremely apparent. The
isothermal line? of the mean annual temperature have quite a
marked regularity from the Atlantic coast we>t to the foot of the
Rocky Moantains. being in general only slightU modified in their
i direction, which i:s nearly east and west. This indication of a
'change of temperature, es-entially d-pendent on that of latitude,
* is in striking contrast with the condition of things on the Pacific
coast, as will be seen farther on. But as soon as the Cordilleran
region is reached, the isothermal lines are bent away from their
east and west course, and become irregular and otten concentric
in their passage across the various mountain ranges.
By the character of these iso'hermal lines, three climatic divi-
•ions of the United States are suggested: 1. The Eastern Region,
including all the territory lying east of the foot of the Rocky
Mountains; 2. The Plat^-au and Mountain Region of the Cor-
dilleras; 3. The Harrow belt on the Pacific coast, west of the
Caseadf* and Sierra Nevada Ranges.
The Eastern division is, of course, by far the most important
and best known in its details, since it is that region where the
etati.=tic3 go back the farthest, and where the population nnd
wealth are concentrated. Its climatic conditions will, therefore, first
be considered. As the topngniphicul features of this divit^ion are
simple, and do not anywhere interpose any very decided or not
* easily orercome barrier to the movement of the people, so the
climate partakes of asimilar character, the passnge from one type
to another beinjr frradual and decidedly uniform, although rapid.
Iv- iiermal . The isothermal lines of mean annual temperature of 44° and 72°,
"^i^^ include neirly the entire area of the United States. The corre-
sponding d'-grees of latitude are about 4o° and 29°, so that the
average change of temperature with the latitude is a trifle over
1° rt for each degree of latitude. The importance of this rapid
change of temperature with the latitude, with reference to the
Intellectual and commercial d«TeIopment of the country is ob-
viouij. and has been already pointed out by eminent clima-
■:logi.sts.
The isothermal of 72° passes through the center of Florida ; then,
iitering Texas, is suddenly deflected southward, running parallel
.4th the isothennals of 68° and 54° to the boundary line of
tfrlezico. The isothermal of 76° crosses the extreme south end of
Florida, almost on the parallel of 25°. The isothermal of 68^
enters Florida just below the parallel of ol°. unii crossing th©
state in an aimutt direct ea^t and ^\est line, passes ihiougu th©
&.>uthvrn part ot Alabama. Mi.--sissippi, and Louitiaiia. and into
Texas, to the meridiun of 102^. where it is j-uduenly di fleeted ^outh-
ward to the boundary line of iMexico. Theisuiheimal (»! »)4^ enters
th.; UuitedSlates on the South Carolina cua.--t It passi.- in a west-
erly direction very neaily on the parallel vi i^^° as far we.-t as the
meridian of UMj". when it is deflected souihwurd, like the other
isothtrmals. by the gradually inei-easing tlevalicn ol the Plateau
Region. The isotticimal of GO'* is. in iisgeneni! course, parallel
with that of 64° except that the detiectu.n tothesontli between
the meridians of ^i"^ and 87^ is greater, ow ii g to iht-ii fluence of
the lofty southern extremity of the Appalachians. It traverses-
North Carolina. Gtmth Carolina. Alabania ; passit- into the >outhem
part of Tennessee; is deflected into AHssi?sipi.i. then enters Ten-
nesseee again, passing across Aikansa;; and the Indian Territory
into New Mexico, when it is deflected townid the south, niaking
two loops a.s it runs nearly coincident with tht mendiiin of 101*
to the parallel of 31® in Texas, when it again Vjends to f he west,
and.afterasouthwegtcour.-e.isdefl ctedtLwuidihi n<>rtli ^est Thai
isothermal of 5o° enters the Unit" d .""tates on the Maryaud coast.
Its general diiection to th-- meridian ((f ^7° is ?cuthwi >t. Here,
in central Alabama, it is defl' ct»d to the r oriheast ft-llowing this
general direction to the parallel of 3b° in Kentur-ky, whtn it bends
again to the west and runs in an almost direct westerly ccmrse to
the meridian ot lid'^, where it is defletieil to the scuth. paj^sing
through New Mexico into Texas, whtre it ^udden!y beids back to
the north, ai.d, after making a long loop in New Mexico, passes itt
a northwesterly cour.-e across Arizona. The i-'OtheiniJil of 52°»
west ot the Appalachians runs almost coircidently with the Ohio
ri\er as far as Cincinnati, then in an undulating couisc passes in
a nearly westerly direction through Indiana, Illinois. Northenj
Missouri, and near the northern boundary of Kansas to the
eastern border of Colorado, where it is deflected to the south, and
runs in a direction nearly south by west for a distance of fully fiv»
hundred miles along the ea^t<.'m base of the Rocky Mountains.
A large art-a is includ'-d between the isothi rmals of 44^^ and 52*
It comprises: New England, except the largt r part of Maine, New
Uamp?hire and Vermont; the southern and central portions of
New York; Penn.'-ylvania; nearly all Ohio; the northern two-
thirds of Indiana and Illinois; the southern half of Michigan and
Wisconsin; nearly all of Iowa; th-- southeastern corner of Min-
nesota; nearly ih- whole of Nebraska: and the southern third of
Dakota. The isothermal of 40° ent«is the United States on th©
eastern border of Maine, and. pa.-sirg through the c nter of th*
state, traverses the northern end of New Ilampshire and Ver-
mont It then passes out of the United States, but enters the
country again at the western end of Lake Superior, crossing the
central part of Minnesota, bending to the south on the meridiaa
of y7°. and making a large loop in Eastern Uakota. then turning
to the northwe?t. and again passing out of the United States at
the meridian of lu7°.
West of the meridian of 105°, within the second climatic division^
or the Cordilleran region, the course of the isothermal is largely
determined by the position of the several mountain ranges
embraced in that area of complicated tcpoyraphy to which thd
name of Cordilleras is given. These ranges, unlike the Appala^
chians are lofty enough to produce a decided influence upon th©
climate, although jiowhere reaching what niJi,.y be called th*' region
of per[)etual snow. This deficiency of lasting accumulations of
snow, however, is in very con>iderable p^rt due to the >mnllnes»
of the precipitatinn. If this were as great in the Rocky Moun-
tains a.^ it is in the Sierra Nevada, the former ranges would, no
doubt, be covered to_ a large e.\tent with permanent snow-tieldfi
and glaciers descending from them. Observations of mean tem-
perature, however, on the higher ranges are extremely deficient,
so that only a tew generalizations can be given with regard to the
position of the isothennals in that portion of the territory of the
United States.
The isothermal of 44° follows a course in the Cordilleran region
which embraces wiihin a great loop to the south, the entire highei
portion of the Rock>Mountains. as far south as parallel S4°. The
tops of the Sierra Nevada, Blue Mountains, and Cascade Ranges
are also included within the loop of the 44°. The Central portion,
of the Cascade Range, and the Rocky Mountains in the south-
western corner of i.olorHdo. have a mean annual temperature of
4U°. The highest part of the Rocky Mountains is indicjited as
having a mean temperature of less than 36°. Accurate and h-ngr
continued observations in this region would, however, furnish an
extremely complicated systim of isothermal curves, since tho
ranges are numerous, and many of them hiyh.
As the land assumes a mote decidedly plateau character In
Arizona. Utah and Nevada, ihe mean annual temperature risesitt
this portion of thf^ country. In Nevada, the isothermal ot 72°ex-
teiidsasfar north as the parallel of 36°, and the isothermal ol
52° reaches to the Trinity Mountains in parallel 4U°. In tWf
Cordilleran region, we find that a great change may be made in
the latitude with but a very moderate one in the mean annual
temperature, as shown by the parallelism of the isothennals with
the coa.-^t line. The tempeniiure is higher and more uniform along
the Pacific coast than it is on the Atlantic coast of the United
States. The isothermal of 60^ runs nearly parallel with the coast,
and not far from it from the 35th parallel nearly to the 3sth. The
isothermal of .^2° follows the coast from San Francisco as far north
as the parallel of 46°
The isothermals for the summer months— June, July, and «;
August— show greater irregularity on Mr. Schott's chart than u,,Ji, I..f,\.
those of the year. This holds true especiallv in the eastern region ''""*' "*"***
of the country. The summer isothermals all bend to the north in a
**ory characterirtic manner, owing in great measure to the southerly
wiaUs. whidh art beated by the Gulf of Mexico. l?bc summer
soo
UNITED STATES
[CL,lMATE.
isothermal of 80- nounas on the north an irregular area, includ-
ing Florida, the sou h:rii part of Georgia, Alabama and Mississippi;
Louisiana, the southeasti-m corner of Arkansas; the southeastern
half of Texas; and a tongue of land in New Mexico. « itnin
this area the mean summer temperature ranges from 81) to 58 .
The southwestern halt of Arizon.i, and patches in southern and
c -ntral California have a like summer temperature of froni 80 to
t- ,'. A strip including the greater part of North and .South Caro-
li la, portions of Georgia. Alalxima. Jlississippi. Tennessee. Ken-
tick., Missouri, Arkansas. Kansas, the Indian Territory, lexas.
New Mexico, Colorado, Utah. Arizona, and Califorma. lies be-
t.vecn the mnan summer isothermals of 76° and 80°. The belt near
the Ohi.i, oxtendiig north as far as the Great Lakes, and south
slong the Appalachian table land into Tennessee, Mississippi, Ala-
bama, and Georgia, and w.'st through Indiana, Illinois. Iowa,
portion^ of Wisconsin. .Minnesota, Dakota, and Montana.
Nebraska, and northern Kansas, lies between the summer isother-
niili of '>S° and 76°. On tho I'aoilic coast the summer i.sothermals
niiproich more nearly to tho. mean annual isothermals in their
cha a.'t -r and position than do those on the Atlantic coast of the
United .States. The ngion of the United States l.ving north of
i the States named above has a mean summer temperature ranging
Winter ^^^^ isothermals for the winter months— December, January and
isother- j-, bruavy— in the eastern region of the United States, are more
mals. regu\ ir tlian the summer curves, thus appioachins in tliis respect
the chiracter of the mean annual isothermals. The winter
isotherm il of -=12° coincides almost exactly with the mean annual
i.i!othoriii il of 68°. It runs parallel with, and at a little distonce
from, ih • Gulf of Mexi.jo. The winter curve of 48° corresponds
very clo elv with that of 64° for "the year and the winter curve
of 44' with the mean annual isothermal of 60°. The winter
Isothormal of 32° enters tne United .States at the southern end ot
M issachusetts. and pas-es in a souihwcsterlv course across Long
Island, iust s .uth of New York City, through New Jersey and
across til' northern end of Maryland, where it is deflected to the
south, and makes a long loop around the Appdachians; then near
the Ohio, through Indiana, Illinois, Missouri, and Kansas, into
New .M»\ieo, where at the meridian of lO.".". it is deflected to the
«nuthwest atid passes around the Rocky Mountains and through
th- center of the Great B-isin. On the Pacific coast, the. winter
isothermals also closelv coincides with the mean annual isolher-
mils. For example, the winter isothermal of 52° corresponds in
chiraj'ter and poition with the annual curve of 60 ,
Winds The p -culiarities of the North-American cliuiate which most,
strongly impress themselves on newly arrivid vi.=itors, and whicu
are iiot'soappiirent in general statistical statements as they are
in Nature, may bo best set forth and discussed after the more
essential facts regarding the other principnl climatic elements
have been presented. , ^ ,i. ■ ■ i
And it wouM S"eni to be next in order to state tho principal
fa.-ts regarding the di- t.ibution of the winds in the Unit, d States,
Bin.'o:iknowledgeotth"Je will be essential to an understanding
of th- important suliject of tile amount and distribution of the
f.r eipitation „ * ,i ^ -
The prevailing winds of the United States, as of all countries
lying in th< middl ■ latitudes, are westerly. At the 4ath parallel
as an average position, and en the mean annual isothermal ot 50 ,
th" evidence- of this prevalence and constancy are overwhelming.
Dr. Gibbons his noticed, with great care at San Francisco the
B nr.se of the hisrher strata of clouds— the cirrus, and the very high
gtr:itus— wh'Ti' they were visible, and has found them to come
o'l't irmly from some westerly point. During three years of very
camful reeistry directed to this particular point in western New
York, but thr.-e instances ot a contrary direction were observe^.
During storms the lower clouds are from various points, and the
wind is tiuite variable during the greater storms; two strata of
different movement often lyinf boueath that from the west, yet
the stratum from a westerly point usually deposits the rain, and
wh 'n it ceases the rainfall ceases, though the Iiwer strata may
continue to run on the wind twenty-four hours, or even longer.
Below the a.'ith parallel and on the Gulf coast only, do the
showers of summer take a different movement, showing that the
stratum occupied by tho cumulus of average height does not there
move from the west, but from the east or southeast— »n inflection
of the trade-wind mingling with a local coast wind.
The following table, arranged from data furnished by the Signal
Berviee Bureau, gives an idea of the direction of the wind in
various p.arts of the country:
STATEMENT shnwino how many timet the wind was obtervrd
hintoino from the eiphi principal poivtn of the compass during
each season of the year enrfini; ./iiac 30. 188 1. Compareri frorn
observations taken at the sereral stations of observations at 7
a. m., 2 p. m. and 9 p. m. [local time).
Station.
Wind.
Bismarck DaV.
N.
.SS
.S2
31)
N.W.
.■^6
.".I
70
W.
;'4
27
34
s. w.
18
12
17
s.
iii
■M
22
S. E.
:iii
m
37
E.
82
M
LS
N. E.
Z'i
17
18
Calm.
11
o
2V
1
Blank.
0
1,
0
Station.
l)Lnver, Colo.
Los Aiigties. Cal.
Saint Louis, Mo-
New York. X. Y ,
Boston, MiLM..
Augu:Ua, Oa
Chicago. III.
Charleston, S. C.
New Orlf^fiTiR Tin
u
Win .
.S
a
a
1
C
3
cc
r/J
f N.
35
.■^0
40
N. W.
36
42
37
W.
m
IS
6
S W.
24
14
12
s
64
6(1
111
S. E.
33
34
26
E.
m
29
12
N. E.
2i
28
2U
Calm.
1
4
3
I Blank.
0
U
U
N.
,31
.■>
32
N.W.
22
r>
12
W.
04
M
W
s. w.
81
74
40
s.
18
10
9
S.E.
10
19
8
E.
16
11
17
N. E.
31
12
48
Calm.
3
37
42
1
Blank.
0
0
0
N.
47
,36
44
N.W.
27
10
31
W.
2.T
17
20
s. w.
9
37
In
■1
S.
90
90
!3
S.E.
,39
33
33
E.
26
19
11
N, E.
13
20
22
Calm.
0
2
0
Blank.
0
0
0
( N.
14
13
14
N.W.
(19
.Ml
(2
W.
36
33
'.»
S. w.
4.^
71
60
S.
17
37
18
S. B.
.36
m
27
E.
17
n
16
N. E.
36
;tt
2o
Calm.
6
3
3
I Blank.
0
U
U
N.
N.W.
W.
S. W.
S.
S.E.
E.
N. E.
Calm.
Blank.
f N-
14
8
3
N. W.
16
22
21
W.
14
16
i<
6. W.
23
4t
2)
S
29
27
12
S.E.
31
fi2
32
E.
14
16
31
N. E.
27
4,T
lU
Calm.
108
46
80
L Blank.
0
0
0
N.
N.W.
W.
s. w.
s.
S. E.
E.
N. E.
Calm.
Blank.
f N.
14
6
24
N.W.
19
11
12
W.
21
22
12
S. W.
92
91
3"
S.
27
27
7
S. E.
2-5
30
•2h
E.
:fi
4.'.
63
N. E.
32
40
92
Calm.
11
4
6
I Blank.
0
0
0
f N.
:w
18
,"^3
N W.
13
16
24
W.
.■s
3,8
7
S. W.
21
M
8
s
.59
29
il
S E.
.")•.
46
48
E.
S.5
48
66
N. E.
28
2'S
49
(.'aim.
."i
2
il
Blank.
0
0
0
26
35
2S
30
93
13
15
23
0
0
64
17
42
21
10
16
29
59
12
0
31
44
30
18
91
27
14
15
3
0
18
54
46
43
16
13
13
53
17
0
»
62
,58
5,5
12
14
15
11
27
0
13
28
26
17
24
16
4
24
121
n
17
31
61
60
37
20
15
16
16
0
34
20
25
67
IC
16
41
,55
5
0
35
17
11
22
30
65
48
39
6
XMATE.]
UNITED STATES
801
Bdiufall
The winds along the whole cxttnt of tlie Atlantic Coast region
Ave a markeil resemblancL- in ilieir important features, notwith-
tandiag the great ditfeienc? in latitude. SVesterly wind^i pre-
4 ouQiuace during the eiiii'f year; but they are chiefly i-outhwest-
I 'lyin summer, arid no^Ihlve^terly in winter.
la the district b_iwe n the Appalachians and the Missis^r^ippi,
I esterly and southwesct-rly wi:ids are prevalent both in winter and
- I'umer. Un the other hind, over a largo territory in the ^outh-
Re^ttrn portion of the United States, cov.-riiig an area uf about
■^iie third of the country, and including Xebraska, Kansas, east-
rn Wyoming and Colorado. Arknnsa>i, TfXiis. Utah, New Mexico
iD-l Arizona, the summer winds are from the south, while the
s"iDds of winter are north and i;orthwest. In northern iMirhigan,
iViseonsin, and Miunesota. this reversal of the wiuter winds is
'ess marked In New Mexico and among the Rocky Mountains
cener illy, the winds ire ■>! th; most extremely irregular chanic-
■,or. .At the passes of ih * Sierra Nevada, and at all entrances
from the coast of the Pacitic to the interior, arid districts and
d -serts, there are vi -lent and cimtinuius westerly winds. On the
roast of California, the inward draft of air produCL'd hv inti rior
rarefaction is decidedly developed. Capt. Wilkes has dpsigriMted
this as the locality of the "Mexican Monsoon."' blowing alternately
O' and down thiscoast.or northwest and southeast. The dura-
tion of the northern Mioyisrt >n is from Decemb t to .May; the cur-
rents of air are froiu the northwest, and nearly parallel with the
co:ist. During its i>revali'nce fine weather is exporienced. From
May to September the curronis uf air are from the south and
So ilhwest. These are the stormy months, attended with great
t*.\plu-ions of electricity, and »vith copious and constant precipitji-
tiiin. This interior rarefacton, above mentioned, is sufficient to
brin^r a nort iwest wind on the c^ast: from the 42jid to thf -ioth
pirtllel. and a sou:h nr so.Uliwest wind for a longdistance below
tue entranc- to the ijulf of Califurnia— lines which, if projected
to the interior, would cross aearly at right angles over the central
areas of the dry interi'T. On the other sid ■ of the continent the
eoufheast nionsoon of Texas blow- dir-^ctly toward the northwf-et
wind of California— all proving how grsat and important this
agency ot interior rarefaction is in producing th*- surfac ■ winds
of thi-- latitudes b?low the well-determined belt of westerly winds.
1-1 sum up whaf has b.'cr. said in regard to the wind- of the
United States, the f 'Howing may be added:
1. The infliience d the trades is but very slightly felt in the
extreme southeasle- 'y nortion of the country.
2. The pievaili .j; .vinds elsewhere are, in general, westerly.
'6. On th<» Atlantie ,'oast. east of the Appalachians, northwest-
erly win is p -evail in winter: southweniterly in •summer.
4. In the region between the Mississippi and the Afpal^ichians,
aouthwest and west wind- prevail both in winter and -summer.
5 Over a wid^ area, extending from -loutheastern California
to Mi-jsouri, and along the base nf the Rocky Mountains from
New Mexico to southern Dakota, the winds of summer are nearly
the reverse of those of winter, being south, southeasterly or
sou'hwesteriy. with a great predominance of southerly; but north
and northwest in winter.
b. On the Pacific coast* the prevailing and normal westerly
direction is maintained through the year» intensified in summer
by the sur-era 'ded monsoon influence of the heated plateau region
to th** ea-t,
7. Through the Plateau or interior Cordilleran region, the snr-
lace winds are variable and irregular in character, but the high?r
curr-nts are in rhe normal westerly direction.
s. The region of the Lower Colorado i^ one in which southerly
winds greatly predominate in cummer, but where in winter there
is not so complete a reversal of the summer wind as there is in the
area specified under 5.
The prosperity of a country d 'penis largely upon its rainfall,
as. to a very great extent, the primary industry, that upon which
all others depend directly, viz.. agriculture, may be said to flour-
ish in a degree directly proportioned to the amount of moisture.
Of rainfall, this country receives in its diCE -rent parts a very dif-
ferent supplv Throughout the eastern half of the United States,
the rainfall is ample for all purposes of agriculture, while in the
western half, with the exception of a narrow strip along the
Pacific coast, the supplv is very deficient. With the exception of
the Cordilleran region, the rainfall is nearly all derived from the
Gulf of Mexico au'l the Atlanticocean. Of the two. the principal
source is the <Tiilf. Th' warm, moist currents which accompany
the Gulf Stream from the Caribbean sea are not deflected toward
the eastward in the *4ulf of Mexico, as the great oceanic river is,
but pass northward and eastward over the land in a broad belt
extending from the coa>t of Texas to the peninsula of Florida.
Jndging from its effects in the form of rainfall, the central por-
tion of this current passes over eastern Louisiana and Missis.-ippi
and western Alabama. The natural result of leaving the warm
<h-ein surface and entering the continent is to cool th^se air cur-
rents, and make th -m d'po-^it th-'ir vapor. The heaviest deposit is
along the iiorthern *hnre of the Gulf, in the States of Louisiana,
Mississippi, and Alabama, and the western part of Florida, where
! the rainfall reaches till inches per annum. Were there no moun-
! tiin3 or other irregular topographical features to modify the rain-
fall, this wave would move inland in a northeasterly direction, the
prcit-itation decreasing eastward, northward, and westward, the
lines of equal rainfall tiking the form of great concentric ellipses,
This form we see roughly oiitlined in the western pai"t of the Mis-
sissippi Talley, th*' ritinfall drcreasing regularly to the northward
and westward. To the northeastward, however, these moisture-
lad^n currents encounter the southern end of the Appalachian
chain, and are driv-^n fit once up to high altitude-;, where they are
forced to disgorge thpir vapor, giving to this end of the mountain
system a heavy rainfall: while farther along the chain, toward
the northeast, the rainfall diminishes, hpcoming fven less than
that of the lower country on the east and west. The portion of
the nioi.'ture-lad>n current which passes to the eastward of the
Appal. ichian ilinin uneis and mingles with uioi.st air currents
comiiig directly tioui the Atlantic, and produces, in the central
parts 1. J Xnrth and frouth Carolina, an area ut abnormally heavy
rainf.ll. .\ second source ut moisture is the Atlantic ocean.
Here the moist aircu^rent^ from the Gull Stream produce a lire
of heavy rainfall alone the Atlantic coast, reaching from Fh.r da
to the neighborhood oi the bay of New York. 'I'hi^ strip is q iite
narrow, being confined to the L'oa>tand its immediate neiyhbjr-
hood. B.n k of that and over the greater portion of ihs Atlantic
plain, the precipitation is notably less- The conditions of the
coa.<t as regards rainfall are somewhat changed north of the Iiiti-
lude last inention*d; that is near the bay ol New York. The
Gulf Stfeani. which h&A been gradually trcndinii ofl shore, is here
nt a considerable distance from ihecoast. Between the coast and
the Gult ^tr'.ani has appeared a polar current flowing southwest-
erly. The cuDtact between the warm air currents of the Gulf
>trtaiu and the cold winds accompanying this pjlar current un-
doubtedly c;iuses the heavy fogs which prevail on the banks of
Newf. undland »nd 8t. <ieorge's Banks extending, in a greater or
less d gfce. lo the New England const. Although there is a de-
crease ill ii-e niinta!! of this part of th'* co.im from that farther
south, yit It is n.it particularly marked. The precipitation is,
however, greatest on the coast, and decreases inhmd.
Leaving now the eastern half of the counirv. n t us trace the
rainfall westward. The lines indicating a sn aller degree of rain-
fall succeed one another at intervals more ut Lss n gular as we
go west, out of the cours • of th'- great continental wave of moist-
ure, and up the slope of the plains. The country here is uniform
and generally level, and there i- nothing to int- i rupt the regular
decrease in the amount of preciptation until we r^ach the base
of the Rocky Mountains. From this line westward to the Sierra
Nevada, we find the conditions of rainfall which are incident to a
mountain C'Mintrj accomp-tnied by a dry atmo.-phere. Taking
the Cordilleran region a- a whi.le. with the e.xci-ption I'f that part
lying west of the Sierra Nevada and Ca:^cades, the rainfall proba-
bly does not average more than 1(1 or 15 inches annually. Thi.-*,
however, is not deposited unilormly over the country : there are
certain conditions under which the rainfall in some parrs of this
region is much greater than in others. Other th'ni:f being equal, the
higher the latitude and the greater the altitude, the greater will be
the rainfall. Under this rule the more northern parts of the Cor-
dilleran region enj^y a greater rainfall than the southern parts.
The mountains and high plateaus are better watered than the
lowlands. The best watered i>arts of thi.'- region are the north-
ern parts of Washington and Idaho, th^^ we-tern part of Mon-
tana, northwestern \\'yoming, which includes the elevated region
known as the Y^'ellowstone National Park, and the high plateau.-*
and ranges ot central Colnrado. The most arid portions, and
those which receive the least rainfall, are western Arizona, south-
ern Nevada, and southeastern California. Although thnaigliout
this region we have but few and scattered ob-^ervations of rainfall,
the relative amount can be predicted with a considemble degree of
certainty by the character of the vegetation. Everywhere arbo-
rescent vegetation implies a considerable amount of rainfall, and
accordingly we find the higher plateaus, the mountains, and the
regions in the higher latitudes covered with forests. A second
zone of rainfall is indicated by the bunch and gama grasses which
co/er the plains and most of the mountain valleys. They indi-
cate a rainfall not in general sufficient for thp needs of agriculture,
A third zont* is indicated by Artemisia, or "fi'&e*^ bm:*h," as this
characteri-^tic western shrub is popularly called: while a fourth
zone is indicated by the cactus, the yucca, or by an absence of all
vegetat'on whatever.
As ha*; been suggested heretofore, the rainfall in th' Cordil-
leran region east of the Sierra Nevada is in general insufficient
for the needs of ag'icuUure, excepting in a f'w iso ated ureas
where locnl topi^'grat hy induces a rainfall greater than the norm^
one. In that section, irrigation is everywhere necessary for the
production of cereal crops. Generally it may he stated that a
less annual rainfall than 20 inches, or a less rainfall than 12H
inches during the growing season of crops— that is, during the
spring and summer — is insufficient for their successful cultiva-
tion ; and where this supply is not furnished naturally, an equiva-
lent must be supplied by means of irrigation. This limit is
reached along a line running approximately on a meridian, and
passing through the middle of Dakota, western Nebraska, west-
ern Kansas, andcentral Texas. In the neighborhood of this line,
aud extending perhaps a degree on each^ side of it, U a debatable
ground, where, in some seasons, the_ rainfall is sufficient for all
crops, while in others it is insufficient. This is Powell's sub-
humid region. As a rule, wherever irrigation is necessary, the
possible extent of agriculture, and in consequence th- possible
densitv of settlement, are dependent upon the amount of water
carried in the streams. In most parts of the Cordilleran region,
there is apparently a far greater amount of land suitable for cul-
tivation than can ever be irrigated, even under the most econom-
ical distribution of water. Concerning this point, however, we
are at present much in the dark, the capacity of few streams hav-
ing been measured, even approximately. Under the wa.sfefu'
system of irrigation at present practiced throughout the West
(except in some portions of southern California), the limit of set-
tlement will very soon be reached, so far as the population is de-
pendent upon agriculture.
A question which has assumed practical importance of an almost
national character is the effect of the planting of tre-^s and the
cultivation of the soil upon climate, many high authorities main-
taining that these causes produce an increase in rainfall, and con-
sequently that it is possible to redeem the whole Cordilleran
region by a judicious system of cultivation and tree-plan'ing. par-
ticularly of the latter. It is doubtful whether that effect c*n be
produced by this or by anj- other means within tke power of maik.
802
UNITED 'S T A
i
R S
[climate.
Such facts as we have within the form of iHinfall records in theCor-
dillenin ref,'ion do not substantiate the thenry, the reeords sh'iwiug
that (he niinfall has not increased in the regions C"Vfred by our bor-
der Sitileni'-nts sinc^^ their earliest formation. At th ■ ^ame rime,
it seems hi^lily probable that a change has been prnduced. which,
while not affecting the climate, has modified decidedly tlie con-
didou-^ of moisture. The effects of cultivmion upon the soil iu
covering it with vegetation, and especially witli trees, has in g* n-
eral iiei^n to retain the m-iisture upon nnd in ihj soil, instead of
allowing it to run directly off into the str^'ams. or to be taken up
at one- hy evaporation In uiher Wiirds, a much larger proportion
of the niinfall is rendered eff ctiv^- for agricuUu.al purposes.
Tfai- effect is already ve:y marked through Mit Dakota, Kansas,
An 1 Xeiraska. and even t » s nne extent in I'rah and Colorado.
It remdiis to sKetch the rainfall of the Paeitie coast 1 1 is in
ail respects peeuliar. and different from tliat of the re>t of the
CO m try. i'h?i"alongth:; whole coast, and ex ten'ling eastward as far
n-i tne Sierr i Nevada and the Oascidi^ rang*, well d fined Wft and
dry seas tns— ihe fo-mor eorriespondlng to the eastern winter, the
hitter to I he -asrern summer. Taking th* year thrnugh. the rain-
fall is Very niueh h 'avi_^r in th"? north.-rn part of thi< stclion than
in tlie 3 lUthern. in we-lern Washm^iton lerritory. it rams almost
CO istaiitiy tor sl.x month' of tlie year, while ev«n in thj wet sea-
Bon. tlie sui»ply of rain in s m h rn C liFornia is scanty.
An e.'^planarion of this peeu'iar elimafe is to be found in tho
ocean curreits and ihe prevailing wind". Th<' wind- on the
w.'st'irn coast are, as a rule, the "'anti trades." blowiiig from the
west a id -omhw -.st These winds pas.-<, on nearing the c-ast. over
the gr.?at .Japanese current, which north of Ong-ni. is relatively to
the land, a w:»rm current, while south of Oregon it is. relatively,
a CO d cnrrent. In passing ov -r this portion of th ■ sea, the atmos
phere beeom-s surcliargerl with moisture. In reaching the coa^st
the amount of precipitation from this moisture-lad -n atmosphere
depends u() m the chang' of temperature which it encounters.
North of Oregon, thj land being, as stated above, eolder than the
8. -a. there is great precipitation, while south of that state the land
being the wa'ine>t, the precipitation decreases, till in southern
California, wh-re the difference between the S' a and land tem-
perature is the greatest, it is almost nothing The line of demark-
atiun between the different temperatures varies with the season,
ranging northward in the summer and southward in the winter,
thus giving the alternations between the wet and dry Season?* so
peeuliar to this coast. The influence of the mountnins of the
Pacific coa^t, althouu;h not sufficient to account for all the phe-
nomena of tfiis climate, still plays a very important part in it The
ascent of the warm currents up the mountain sides of course oouls
them very gieatly, and causes them to deposit whatever remaining
moisture they may contain. To illustrate the extent of the action
of mountain ranges, it may be stated that, although in the valley
of the San Joaquin the raintall is very light, yet upon the high
Sierras it h is been fnund to reachHfi inches in a sinele vear.
The colder months in the United States, including May and Sep-
tember of the warmer months, precipitate most ot the rain and
mow which falls in what are called gmeral storms. Most of the
rain falling before the middle of June in the latitude of Wash-
ington is in storm.^ of two or three days' <lui'ation. A south or
southeast wind, with hifrh temperature and a palpable sense of
preparation, usually begins th^ change; east and northeast winds
follow next for a day or m 're, during which most <>f the rain falls,
and west or northwest winds blow with unusual strength for two
days following, restoring the equable and average weather for the
month. In the Northern States, a greater number of months is
included in those of general rains, which may occur in every
month of summer, though they rarely do so. In the Hulf States
the period of summer showers is more extended generally, though
where the hurricanes of August a id September occur, as they do
in all the Southern States bordering theiiulf and the Atlantic, the
number of extended ratns in the summer is more nearly equal to
that in New York and New England. In the southwest, at a dis-
tance from the coasts, they are rare from the clo.se of April to the
middle of October: in the interior farther west they are equally
rare, and on the Pacific coast they belong only to the rainy
months. But on the Pacifie the rain.s have little, if any, corre-
spondence at any season with those eist of the Rocky Mountains.
Some general distinctions -should be made at the outset of the
Bxamination of storms in 'h^ temperate latitudes The hurri-
canes, typhoons and tornadoes, each of which more generally be-
long to the troi)ics. frequently enter these latitud's in their origi-
nal forms, and .>ubseq<iently become blended with the forms wliich
originate here, either by encountering one of these, or by putting
on such forms by a gradual process of change The West India
hurricanes impress their character on a series of successive or
continuous storms along the (lulf Stream in nearly every case of
their apjiroach to tempi rate latitudes, and the tracks of these in
th-3 western Atlantic and 'ilong the coast present the most fre-
quent instanC'S of the ming'ing of storms which were originally
whollv different, with the widely extended rains above the 35th
parallel.
The general The ob-^ervations with respect to the g'*noral winter storms of
viuter the United States m;iy be stated as follows:
tfLvrms. 5' The general winter storms of the United States often 'H)ver
an area of from three to five hundred miles in diameter, which
area is usually oblong or oval, with its greatest lengh from south-
west to northeast.
2. They nil move eastward with the westerly winds of the belt
where they are formed, and in a line with the isothermals of the
month in which they occur — coming from a point north of west
at the Mississippi river, and leaving the Atlantic coast in a direc-
tion north of east. This course conforms in both cases to the
course of the is-dhermals; or, in oth^r words, they do not leave
the measure of heat where they originate to go into colder or
warmer climates.
3. Their movement i^ gi.ci ally at the rate of movement of thfl
air in these latitudes, or nearly twenty miles i er hour; but it may
be much greater, or very li tie
4 They may be initiated at all points of this bell, and at anj
liieridian, and iliev have equally no i oint at Vibicli tliej are more
likely to la. come uAhAUSt^d and to d.s;ippear th.iu nnj other.
5. They me more viok nt at the Atl Lutiu c .ast and ai the Gulf
Stream than elseuhere, because the contrast ol land ni.d ;-ea air ia
there very trreat in the c.>ld- r S-asons. and becj^se the di.ect line
of their pngiess earties ihem into a belt of high temperature.
AV hen the contrast is not great, asin the warmei mon hs, there is
no decided increi.-e ol severity there.
6. Th' y are more generally attended hy nortl east winds than Northeast
any others during the first half: or, in other wtrds, the rarefied winds,
area almo.-t always induces a draft from that quarter first, and it
continues over most of the district iu which a d "aft contrary to
the general nioveuient is created.
7. None of the wind?; from other than westerly p lints are winds
of propulsion, or pr<M>ngated from their apparent [loinl ot origin;
they are all, including a portion from ihe west, winds ot aspi-
ration, induced by the agitation, or by the distui bance of equi-
librium its* If.
8. All the movements and processes are usually carried past
the mean by the forces set in motion iu these stoiuis; the mini-
mum of heat, moi?ture, clouds and winds, following the removal
ol the excess <d the first two; and this minimum, tbough a calm
and quit scent state, is itself an extreme and not an avei age con-
dition in these latiiudes. ,
Tornado* s have 1fs> connection with general storms than hurri-
canes, though ihey oltm exist as the nucleus of a general rain
inland, and, though belonging to the summer mainly, they are
sometimes found in stoiuis of midwinter. The term /onmrfo ia
one properly limited to local storms of excessive violence, bfflictinf
but a narrow strip of surface a few miles iu length, and usually
while no storms of consequence exists anywhere in the vicinity, but
sometimes as the nueleus of un extendtd rain. The leading
characteristic is intense electrical aeiion, and several lines or
threads ..-f tornado force are sometimes developed iu a wide
stratum of air of high temperature with clouds and rain, particu-
larly if in a cool month, itr when the general storm is of much
more than the usual exc^s8 of temperature These may be ex-
hausted after tra\ » i sing a short path, and may reappear, without
disturbing the general condition and without producing any con-
formity to their peculiar violence in the wtiole area covered by
the rain, as th hurricanes of the Atlantic do.
These hurricanes evidently control the movements of any storm Hurricatiei.
or condition with which they come in contact, superadding to it
the charactei i>t cs id hurricane violence, until this violence be-
comes exhauMCil Ijy rlistance, while tornadoes have no general
influence whatever. The following extract is taken from the
report on tornadoes for 1880. by Mr. John P. Finley:
"A map prepared to show the entire topography of that portion
of the United State> included within the meridians of 89° and 101*^
would plainly illustrate an important truth in the frnado prob-
lem— viz.. that th( re is not another section of our vast domaia
wherein theie exists opportunities so unlimited for the unob-
structed mingling and opposition of wurm and cold currents and
currents highly contrasted in humidity. As an area of low
barometer (not necessarily a fto.TD area) advances to the Lowei
Missouri valley warm and cold ol Tents set in toward it from the
north and south respectirely, whici*. if the low pressure con-
tinues about stationary for some time, ultimately emanate from
the warm and moist regions of the Gulf and the cold and compara-
tively dry regions of the British Possessions. Here lies the key to
the marked contrasts of temperature and moisture, invariably
foretelling an atmospheric disturbance of unusual violence, foj
which this region is peculiarly fitted by Nature, and in appareu*
recognition of whieh it has received the euphonious titie of tha
"battle-ground of tornadoes." It cannot be disputed that, so faT
as the history of tornadoes is concerned, the majority havi'
occurred over this region, because of its peculiar topography,
From the Gulf northward to the central portion of the Lowei
Missouri valley, and from the British Possessions southward t<i
the same locality, there is permitted an entirely free movement oi
the air; nothing in the shitpe of earth or water exists to modify
its character, except, perhaps, to intensify the contrast of attrib-
utes. Over Texas, Louisiana, Arkansas, and Indian Territory
occurs a broad expanse of rolling surface — sometimes abruptly
hilly, but on the whole presenting a sameness of outline to &■
marked degree. Similarly conditioned are the States of Min-
nesota. Iowa. Nebraska, and the eastern half of Dakota Territory.
West of the H'lst meridian we find a rugged and abrupt country,
traversed by great mountain chains, whieh deflect the c(»urse and
modify the temperature and moisture of passing currents. Ob
the east side of the 89th miridian, the (Jrcat Lakes introduce
an equally important factor into the modification of passing-
currents." , . , ,— -
As to the duration of the tornadoes observed in the year 1871^.
he writes: , . » ,
"The lime of passing any point was variously estimated from
five seconds to two minutes. "Quicker than thought." was an
expression often used as conveying the observer^ idea of the
rapidity of destruction. Estimating the average diameter of tho
cloud ai 15U feet, and its average velocity at a mile in two min-
utes, we have its mei.n duration at any one point, about ten and
a half seconds. There were times in the pas-age of the cloud when
it appeared to remain almost stationary, whirling upon its narrow
ba-e like a top; again it was reported as moving no faster than a.
horse gently galloping, but only for half a mile or so, when it.
would make up for lost time by dashing forward at a rate of 50 oi
60 miles per hour, and then gradually working down lo its acoa'
tomed velocity of about 30 miles per hoar."
U N 1 T E Jj a T A
Storms of
March.
":5S.
FORESTS.]
nJiion-Tn'r lut^"'^ "T"' ^^- ^^^^^^ " notice in this con-
nection-for. althuugh not a tornado, u cause<l much si ff rm"
ff„7 7^"'' fv"-..'""* "* '■>'« f"" took place N, ih • mo-l ,ie"-e T
^^l^^T T" "l 'i^^ cou, to, and cased a co ..pler.^l,. .pf«^ tor
Hh!!^V, "^-^ °' *" '■""<^""?« between Xew York .n.d tl"- aditcem
citie*. It wa*. prvibably. of all the storms which havi ««u?r. H
ei..oe this country w», settled-the one which -aver14toThe
Iarg...t amount uf wmment. The average sno>ffa1l n centnl
Connecticut and over a large part of ea-^t m X- w York excelled
fif2^n"'f'''r "'"^,"' P'» «1 ""i-^ '^"-^ Piled "P in drifts of from
reined ?5 7l'iW/fw"' N!?5V, ^''^ ■"■-'^in^um "SSipita to"
eto^ wa^ Ihe re nlr / " Middletown. Conn. This remarkable
liSf^.K t '^t~°''/'t'' confl'ct between a cvo one advancing
U^A l^% '""'h ''"' deflected to the west on reaohSig Sew fiLg
land, and a cold wave coming from the west.* ^^^^^ ' "^ '^"^
I r^ C5
3vo
5enera]
.'iemark^
I
The .Arlan
tic region.
•• ■ 7 belt
TBK FORESTS OF XORTH AMERICA.
of'Me][^''wWh"«'M T""^?'- °' *^^ f"""' "f it sitnated north
Sir,; .1 J j"^? "''1 *'""« *>« coDMdered here, may be con-
venieutly divjdcd^wuh reference to its forest g. ,. - aph/ into ?he
of^°'Ko?kv Vi^'fi".^^""^: by a Une followinl, tSe i^ t'ern bLsl
ot tie Kocky .MouniaiuS and its oat ving eastern ran"es from the
^J^'hI^'"'^ •"f'^v." ^"> ■^'""de. the forest^™ hfch^v^h^l
two diVL-ioDs of the continent difi-r as widely in na'arel fea
n^bi^lT,':^^- """^ distribution a^ the cNmate and™lpo|:
3^he P^^fi^ I •^■"^"'=' differ from the climate a„d topography
Sm;i!. *° "i?"^- 7^? '"•'"8e» i^hich have produc d the dis-
rH^,„,;. °'r'-'""°<:<'^ ""',"' t'^o forests m«v be "ought in the
the a«u»l ,oi.o<:°: "u- * P^l'Sic*' era earlier than onr own aSd l^
no' be"dit'cu'rs''.d'h||;e^'^' ^°™'"""' "* ""> <=<«'"■'-'": "-^^ need
Ttie forests of the .\tlantic and Pacific regions, dissimilar in
wmposition in the central part of the ContiSlnt are"united M
the north by a broad belt of subarctic forest" ex^udU.°acrot-
, the continent north of the fiftieth degree of lAtlSdeOne^Q
Vrnt .T'T,"^ ^^"^ this northern for.st is com^'sed extends
thT,h ^4"'^°*"' '" ""^ ^f'"^'=' ^''d its general iVatarcs al-
though differing ej,st and west of the contlMental divide
1„^ .°h'''[,°"? "'.■> 'be --limatic conditions peculiar to the At Mtfo
{°Lht '^ The'f^'rl.-^', "f«h" continent, still possess co! s/der,b le^nU
r.-5^ed\^ftt^t|th^j^vvi-^^^
he L-nitTd'^tat"^"^';?!,-'"'^- b"e. extending northw^rf Tn o
B^^'^^W^ "^s'ii^Cci^nfr^L^uraSS
?„mrL ?'"''^-3°'^ "'.''T n'ouDtains of west-rn TciV- the ev
tjr -T-nth rn Mantm e Pine Belt, the Deciduous ¥nT,"t r.fVh:.
^^S3^SR:'?^J?-T'^'^sere?f
the Arc c c"rcle TH, VVVAf*^ ""r" """^westward to within
Hp^,2>?*- °/ latitude upon the .Atlantic sea^board and neaj?? 2D
ero^s^i th« P.„ fi '"'^''!' i\~'nP?S'^. to eight. Of these, four
Vtl\, cl Appalachian .Mountain system it extends sonth.?!;
0 a nine ^o^",-^•''*"^■^'"5"'='''^ ''' 'be region of the g°latTak"s'
■ Bee Winslow Upton, in Am. Met. Jour., May, 1888.
white '^ne'?p/„:^»i' "?"''■= ^O"^' "?'• be characterized by the
wniie pine (/'inu* ^robuti. its most mportant it not its mnsf
fh.-T,^^ '*>''"''"/''* ■f"'^''-*- East of the A?paach an 'v"em
this tree of, en forms extensive forests upon tile gravellvdrifj
f "i'° r//'!'^ ^*- Laurence ba.Mn. or farther s^a°hand^w"aWe"»
L 5 ^'^"^ ^''°'/'' "f'en "t considerable extent, scattered thrME^
ant featurof^?hi''re Jo""-*'" "'• W"'^ ^Pmcea^ Vtufan mpir
g"uU^a?rthi'fe^,ro?rtin^^^^^^^^
black and the «hite ash. the sngarmaple and scverUspec^es o?
birch and elm find their northern limns, and the c!iner'^r!fb„?r
most important distribution. The hickories and the oaks charai!
of ;'i%^f?'"."* "'""^ deciduous foresus of all Oie cen?ral'Dort"on
?rib5,ion a^sTTrcK^'^^r'' ^"l "^^ '"'7'="° lin>it-°of theh^ dS
moution. a^ do the chestnut, the sass.afras. the tulin tre^ tiio
magnolia (here represented bv a single speci, s- the re cedfr' tha
tnpelo. the sycainnre. the beech, and other important gnera
v.ape tiaiaoar and lampa bav; it streteht-s nrrnse th« Fi/^.^.ri.
aXV';-:?'d%;":*it?'o"f°^hi'\r'^='- »'•''" "«"'f'^f"'«
we^. .,f .K "^ ' • '?* Mississippi are enconntcrrd: it r, appears
TnH K '"'" '■i''^r,'° Lo"'-'^'ana. ' oith and .=o„ih of the Ked nver
"f^n^sinnrS; TJ'L'";"!''* "i'b -he deciduous fot^sts of Ta
well ^K. "^ ba.-in in Arkansas and eastern Texas This belt is
,hVV ? '^'u* *•■■ 'be almost continuous growth out^rte if
coLt^r" thl'o'n''^' f""' r% "-t ','"■"' <J'*'^' neighb^Cd of 'he
. .«;„ IV d ffrent gams, water oaks, hickories .-.nd a-h"i
pSil .Kcu^eH irrt'^'o''^n** Mi.,u„ippi Ba,ir, and the Atlanti,: Decidn.^
m.x.d wiih oaks and other broad lea^'ed trees! SrTneciallT
^=t ^^5*1 - i^- - ;]? w^f S
composed. Oaks, hickories, walnuf. magnolias, and a'hesff™
vanety and value to this forest; and here, with the exception ?f 2
treVoTthe i'tu'i',''' '° * niore northern latitude.'he de iduou?
ani'-Ac^yo^lttc-Zo^s^/ctro^thfc"^
patorw and m,M here rench their best deveCment fnlt „^
?h,™'to1hr.'oa^°^^^'ft^JJ ^'"-'' "-'"■- "d give a ^c^
differercn^" ,'■''''"'* 'J- ^^^ '^"snlic region is subjected to rery
iC?s''&as'^L'^G;e\Tfe'%'l^rg^J^^^^^^^^^^
s iVT^^-if^n-s^siSHS^
growth of herbage but not sufficient to support outride theTai
ThTc ^'V"' "/ '^'' infrequent streams, "he.can es, forestT
Inrfh r« w^'^'''"'?? ,"'ends north to the fiftv-second de °^e of
Mointifr;"^^- .'• Z;'"'?^" southward the trend of ,ne R^cl^
Monntains.far into Xfexico. extending eastward at the point of i^
greatest widh, m about latitude 4i.° N.. nearlv to tie nini^
f^^Tt"" Thr"*""'- P'* '^bole region is general y d7sti?u?e'?f
forest The narrow bottoms of the large streams are lined ho=
frfl;„TI'K ■"' "'"■'• PJ"''"^- «'■»-'• a-'d ?ackbe?nVs-^?.'^'^dap?Id
to flounsh under such unfavcrBble conditions. These dTniinNhiS
frotn tl^ k"""i^'' r"" 'be "infali- and often disappear en ire 5
tlZ"^. '^ ...'"'''^ °* even the largest streams toward the weste™
hmits of the plate-iu. south of the fortv-fif h d"CT^° f irHf^!i?
^04
UNITED S T A T E S
[foriosts.
Texas. The average width east and west of this prairie region,
through much of its extent, is not far from lr>li miles. Its ea?t'in
extension, between the fortieth imd furty-firth degrees of laiitude,
is much greater, however, liere reaching the western shores of liike
Michigan, and forming a, great recess in the western line of the
aeavy forest of the Atlantic region with :i depth of nearly (AKJ
miles. Th.-' transition from the heavy forest of the eastern and
central portions of the Atlantic region to the treeless plateau is
Ft-resT. graduul. The change occurs within the iirairie regions. Here is
(iiaiii the strip of lebatible ground, where a continuous struggle between
the forest and the plain takes place. There is here sufficient pre-
cipitation of moisture to cause, undernornial conditions, a growth
of open forest; but. so nicely balanced is the struggle, that nny
interference quickly turns the scale. Trees planted within this
prairie belt thrive if protected from fire ard the encroachment uf
ihe tough prairie sod, and so extend the forest line westward; if
the forest which fringes the eastern edge of the prairie is
destroyed, it does not soon regain possession of the soil, and the
praiiie is gradually pushed eastward.
'Jhj eastern line t)f the plain, wh'^re arborescent vegetation is
OOiirmed to the river bottoms, and which divides it from the
brnirie where trees grow naluraily, to some extent, outside of the
tutroms, and where they may be made to grow und-'r favorable
3on litiona everywhere, is d 'termined by th ■ rainfall eujoyeJ by
this part of the continent. The extreme eastern point reached by
this line is found, upon the fortieth degr^-'e of north latitude, near
the northern boundary of the state of Kansas. North of the
fortieth degree it ^rraduallv trends to thj west, reaching the
eastern base of tlie Kooky Mountains in ab )Ut latitude 52^. This
• northwestern trend of the eastern plain line may be ascribed to
the comparatively small evaporation which tiik'-s place during the
shorter summer ot th^ north, and to a slight local increase of
spring an 1 summer rainfall. South of the fortieth degree the
plain liiie s'adually trends to the southwest under the influence
of the Uulf of Mixieo. reaching its extreme western point in
Texas upon tlie one hundredth meridian.
Other cause-;, however, than insufficient rainfall and a nicely
bala-iced struggle be'ween the forest and the plain have prevent-
ed the general growth f>f trees in the prairie region east of the
oinety-fifih meriHian. The rainfall of this region is sufficient to
insure ihe growth of a heavy forest. The rain falling upon the
prairies of Minnesota. Wisconsin, Iowa. Illinois, and Missouri
equals in amount that enjoved by the Michigm peninsula and
the whole region south of lakes Ontario and Erie, while prairie-i
exist within the region ot the heaviest forest icrowth. It is not
want of sufficient heat, or of sufficient or equally distributed
moisture, which has checked the general spread of forest over
these prairies. The soil of which the prairies are compo^ed, as is
shown by the tact that trees planted u|ion them grow with vigtir
and rapidity, is not unsuitcd to tree growth It is not, p.^rhaps,
improbable that the fore?is of the Atlantic region once extended
continuously as fir wet at least iis th** niuety-fifih meridian,
alth mgh circumstanti il evidence of such a theory does not exist ;
and the causes which first led to the destruction of the forests in
this region, supposing thit they ever existed, cannot, with the
present knowl.-dge ot ihe subj -ct. b; even guessed at. It is, how-
ever, fair to assume tliur for-sts once existed in a region adapted,
by climate, rainfall, mid soil, to produce forests, and that their
abs nee under such conditions must be traced to accidental causes.
It is Tiot difficult to understand that the forest once destroyed
over such a vast area could not easily regain possession of the
soil protected by an imnenetrable coTcring of sod and subjected
to the annual burnings which have occurred down to the present
time ; while the force of the wind, unchecked by any forest
barrier, over such an area would, even without the aid of fires,
have made th^ sprea I of forest growth slow and difficult. The
assumption that these eastern prairies may have once been
covered with forests is --trengthened by the fact that since they
havy been devoted to agricullvire. and the annual burning has
b'-en stopped, trees which were formerly confined to the river
bnttom'! have gradu illy spread to the uplands. Small prairies
situated just within the western edge of the forest have entirely
disappeared within the memory of persons still living : the oak
openings— open fore^its of large oaks through which the annual
6res idaved without greatly injuring the full-grown trees— once
th ! characteristic feature of these prairies, have disappeared.
Th 'v are replaced by dense forepts of oak. which only require
protection from fire to spring into existence. lu western Texas,
the mesquit, forced by annual burninj to grow almost entirely
below the surface of the_ ground, is. now that prairie fires are
less {'ommrtn and destrucuve, spreading over what a few years ago
Was treeless prairie The prairi's. then, or the eastern portions
of th-m situated in the region of abundant rainfall, are fast losing
their treeless character, and the forest protected from fire is
^adiiiilly gaining in everv direction ; regions which fifty yeari
Ago wi're treeless outside the liver bottoms now contain forests
jnvering 10 or even 20 p'-r cent, of their area. These eastern well-
witered prairies niu-^t not, however, bo confoiinrled with their
dry western rim adjoining the plains — the debatable ground be-
tween forest and p'ain — o-" with 'he plains thera-^elves. There is
now no gradual, constant spread of forest timwth upon the
plains. They are tffeleBs on account of insufficient moisture to
devel ip forest crowth ; and while trees may, perhaps, if planted,
survive during a few years beyond the western limits of the
prairie as here laid d >wn. th" iiermnnent establishment of forests
there does not s -em practicable, and, sooner or later, a period of
unusual drought must put and end to all attempts at forest culti-
vation in a region of sich insufficient and uncertain rainfall.
It remains to consi'lT the S*'mi-trnpical Forent of Florida and
*iie Mej-ican Forest of Souflt^rn l^xn/r.
A group of arborescent species of West Indian origin occupies
'■•.e narrow strip of coast and islands of southern Florida- Thia
belt of semi tropical vegetation is confined to the imrnediate
neighborhood of thj eoa^l aud to occasional hummocks or islands
of high ground situated in the savannas which cover a great por-
tion of soutliern Florida, checking, by the nature of the soil and
want of drainage, the spri ad ot lurest growih across the penin-
sula. This semi-tropical forest belt reaches cape iSIaiabar on the
east and the shores of Tampa bay on the west coa.-t, while some
or its representatives extend fully 2 degrees farther north. It
is rich in composition ; nearly a *iuarter of all the arborescent
species of the Atlantic forest are found within this insignificant
region. The semi tropical forest, in spite of its variety, is of
little economic importance. The species of which it is composed
here reached ih' extreme northern limit of their distribution ;
they are generally small, stunted, and of comparatively little
value. Certain species, however, attiiic respectable proportions ;
the mahogany, the mastic, the royal palm, the mangrove, the sea-
grape, the Jamaica dogwood, the manchinecl. and other species
here become eonsideialde and impfirtant trees.
In western and southern Texas the trees of the Mississippi
basin, checked by insufficient moisture from farther extension
southward outside the river bottoms, are replaced by species of
the plateau of northern Mexico. The str'eams fl-jwing into the
(iulf of Mexico are still lined, however, east of the uiiv-bundredth
m ridian, with the species of the Atlantic basin, which thus reach
southward to beyond the Rio Uraiide. The Mexican forest belt
of Texas extends from the valley of the (.'olorado river, near the
ninety-eighih meridian, to the Rio Grande. It touches the coast
not far from the Nueces river, and extends to th ■ eastern base
of the mountain ranges west of the Pecos ; here the species of
which it is compMsed mingle with those peculiar to the Pacific-
Mexican forest. The forest of this region, like that of all countries
of insufficient moisture, is open, stunted, and co:rparatively of
little value. It is characterized by enormou> areas covered with
chaparral {dense and often impenetrable thickctsof th'irny shrubs
and small trees), by a stunted and occasional arboreset-nt growth
upon the hills and plains, and by fringes of heaviertimber along the
ffiver bottoms. The most valuable and perhaps the most characceris-
tic species of this whole region — the mesquit — extends to the Pacific
coast. With this exception, none of the arborescent species pe-
culiar to this region attain any considerable size or importance^
although the forest of small junipers which coyer the low lime
stone hills of tlie Colorado valley are locally valuable in a country
so generally df^stitute of trees. The r- ginn immediately adjoin-
ing ihi- Rio Grarde abounds in difTerent species of .^coci'a,
Leucsrna, and other Mexican Leguminosre ; and farther west,
upon th> dry plains of the Presidio, the Spanish bayonet (Yucca
haccata) covers wide areas with a low. open, and charactenstio
forest growth.
The Pacific forest region is coextensive with the great Cordille- Pacifio
ran Mountain system of the continent. The causes which have region,
influenced the present position and density of these foresismust
be sought in the peculiar distribution of the rainfall of the
region. Thj precipitation of moisture upon the northwest coast
is unecjualed by that of any other part of the continent. It
gradually decreases with the latitude until, in Southern Califor-
nia, the temperature of the land so far execds that of the ocean
that precipitation is impossible through a large part of the year.
The interior of all this great region, shut off by the high mountain
ranges which face the ocean along its entire extent, is very imper-
fectly supplied with moisture. It is a region of light, uncertain,
and unequally distributed rainfall, heavier at the north, as
upon the coast, and decreasing gradually with the latitude in
nearly the same proportion. This entire region is composed of a
mass of mountain ranges with a general north and south trend,
separating long and generally narrow vadeys. The precipitation
of moisture within the interior region is largely regulated by thd
position of the mountain chains. Warm current.- ascending theii
sides become cold, and are forced to deposit the moisture^ tliey
contain. It follows that, while the -interior valleys are rainless
or nearly so. the mountain ranges, and espiciall.v the high ones,
receive during the year a considerable precipitation of both rain
and fnow. If the distribution of the forests of any region la
dependent upon the distribution and amount of moisture it re-
ceives, forests exceeding in density those of any other part
of th" continent would be found upon the northwest coast;
they would gradually diminish toward the south, and en-
tirely disappear near the southern boundary of the United States ;
while the forests of all the interior region, from the summit of
the principal Coast Ranpes to the eastern base of the Rocky
Mountains, would be confined to the flanks and sumniits of the
mountains. These forests would be heavy upon the high ranges,
especially toward the north; they would disappear entirely from
the valleys and low mountain ranges. An examination of the
forests of the Pacific region will show that, in general distribution
and density, they actually follow the distribution of the rainfall
of the region These forests well illustrate the influence of
moisture upon forest growth. Within the Pacific region, the
heaviest and the lightest forests of the continent coexist with its
heaviest and lightest rainfall-
The forests of the Pacific region may be considered under four -The Pa.-ifio
divisions: the Northern Forest, the Coast Forest, the Interior p^j-g^.^
Forest, and the Mexioin Forest. ,
The Northern Forest oi the Pacific repion extends from nearly
the seventieth to about the fifty-eighth dtgree of north latitude,
or, immediately upon the coast, is replaced by the Coast Forest
nearly 2 degrees farther north; it extends from the continental
divide, here mingled with the Northern Forest of the Atlantic
region, to the shores of the Pacific. The southern limit of this
open, scantv Northern Forest, composed of species which extend
across the continent, or of species closely allied to those of tho
Northern Forest of the Atlantic region, is still imperfectly known,
especially in the interior. The determination of the soutbera
129
lis
121
43
Area of a temperature between Curves of
36 and 44 Faht.
44 " 52 "
52 " 60 " Hr^
60 " 68 "
68 " 76 "
^V. £. — Data for high mountain ranges and pealc:
wanting.
117
ill3
JT)9
w
FORESTS.]
U IS I T
o
J. A r £. s
805
-«ige in Ahwka and British Columbia of several species, as well
«s the northern range here of a tew others, must be still left to
further exi'loration. The white spruce, the mo^t impurtaut and
the mo:it uortheru species of the forci-t of the North Atlantic
region, \s here also the most important species. It attains n coii-
liderable size as far north as the sixty-filth desiee, loruiing. in
theralley of the Yukon, furests of no little U-oal importanve. The
canoe birch, the b.ilsam poplar, and tbe nspen, familiar trees of
the North Atlantic region, also occur here. The gray piue and
the balsam fir of the Atlantic region are replaced by allied forms
of the same genera. The lurch alune. of the denizens of the extreme
Northern Forest ot the Atlantic coast, finds uo congener here in
the northern Pncific forest.
The Pacific Coast Forest, the heaviest, although far from the
most varied, forest of the continent, extends south along the
coast in a narrow strip f rom th-" sixtieth to the fiftieth parallel;
here it widens, embracing the ^hores of Puget sound and cxt»'nd-
ing eastward over the high mouL-tain ratges north and south of
the boundary of tbe United States. This interior development of
the Coast Forest, following the abundant rainfall of the region.
iscarriel north^vard over the Gold, Selkirk, and other interior
ranges of British Columbia, in j> narrow spur extending north
Dearly to the fifty-tourth parallel. It r-^aches southward along
' the Clear d'Alene, Bitter-Root, and th'^ western ranges of the
Rocky Mountain system to about latitude 47° 3u', covering
northern Washington Territory. Idaho, and portions of western
Montana.
The Coast Forest south of the fiftieth degree of latitude occu-
pies the region between the ocean and the eastern slopes of the
Cascade R:inge; in California ih.- summits of tbe principal south-
ern prolon-cntion of these mount:iii;s. the Sierra Nevada, mark
the c^astern limits of the Coast Forest, which gradually disjtp-
pears ?outh of the thirty-fifth pirall-:-!. ulthough still carried by
the high rid"j,es of the south rnCoa^t K:inge nearly to the south-
ern boundary of the L'.iited St;ites. The Coast Forest, like the
forests of the whole Pacific region, is largely c 'mposed of a few
coniferous .-pecies, generally of wide distribution. The absence
of broad-leaved treea in the Pacific region is striking; they nowhere
form great forests, as in the Atlantic region: when they "occur
they are eo ifined to the vallevs of the coast and to the banks of
mouut.:iin .-itreams. and, economically, are of cmparatively little
valuj or importance. The characteristic and most valuable
species of the northern Coast Forest are the Alaska cedar
{Chamspci/parU), the tide land spruc*^, »nd the hemlock. The^^e
form the principal forest growth which covers the ranges and
islands of the coast between the sixty-first and fiftieth parallels,
Oth^r species of the Coast Forest reach here the northern limits
of their distribution, although the center of their greatest de-
velopment is found farther south,
rbe red fir. The red fir (Pa€v.dotsuga\. tl'.e most important and widely
distributed timber tree of ihc Pacific region, reaches the coast
archipelago in latitude 5i°; farther inland it extends fully 4
degrees further north, and in the region of Puget sound and
tun^ugh the Coast Forest of AVashington Territory and Oregon it
is the prevailing forest tree. The characteristic forest of the
northwest coa.=t, although represented by several species extend-
ing south as far as care Mendicino. near the fortieth parallel, is
replaced south of the Rogue River valley by a forest in which
forms p'Culiar to the south rather than to the north gradually
predominate. The forest of tbe northwest c»ast reaches it great-
est density and variety in the narrow region between the sum-
mits of the Cascade Range and the ocean. Xortb of the fifty-first
parallel it gradually decreases in density, and south of the forty-
third parallel it changes in composition and character. This belt
of Coast Forest is only ^u^passed in donsityby that of some
portions of the redwood forest of the California coast. The red
fir. the great tide-land spruce, the hemlock, and the red cedar
'Thuu<i) reaf^h here enormous dimensions. The wide river bot-
"■oms are lined with a heavy growth of maple, cottonwood. ash.
ind alder, the narrow interior valley with an open growth of oak.
I In this great coniferous forest the trunks of trees two or
three hundred feet in height are often only separated by the
' space of a few feet. The groundt ^haded throughout the year by
the impenetrable canopy of the forest, never becomes drj' ; it is
densely covered hv a thick carpet of mosses and ferns, often of
enormous size. The more open portions of this forest are choked
by an impenetrable growth of various Vaccineff^ of almost arbores-
cent proportions, of hazel, the vine-maple, and other shrubs.
The soil which has produced the maximum growth of forest in
this region is, outside the river bottoms, a thin, porous gravel of
glacial oriz?n. rarely more than a few inches in depth; the
luxuriance of vegetable growth, therefore, illustrates the influence
of a heavy rainfall and temperate climate upon the forest.
The general character of this forest in the interio'-. although
lomposed largely of the species peculiar to tho coast, differs some-
what from the Coast Forest proper in compo.-ition and largely in
aatural features. The dense, impenetrable forest of the coast is
replaced, east of the summit of the Cascade Range, by a more
jpen growth, generally largely destitute of undersrowth. The
red fir, the hemlock, and the red cedar ( Thuya) Jir; s\.\U important
elements of the forest. Less valuable species of the Coast Forest
—the white fir 'Abies ffrandis), the yew, the alders, the mountain
kemlock (THuga Pattoniana). the hawthorn, the buckthorn, and
the white pine iPinus monticola) — are still represented. The
latter, a loc-il species upon the coast, only reachfs its greatest
development toward ihe eastern limit of this region, here forming
c^nsideraVjlf and important for« sts. Other enccies peculiar to the
Coast Forest, the maples, tbe ash, tht oak, the arbutus, and the
Alaska cedar, do not extend east of the Cascades. The tide land
spruce is repine d by an allied spcies <)f the inferior region. The
widely distributed yellow pine yPinus ponderota) , barely repre-
Bented in the northern portions of the immediate Coast Forest, be-
comes, east of the mountains, one of the most important and char-
acteristic elements td the forest. The Coast Forest souih of the
forty-third degree of latitude changes in composition. 'Jhe tide-
land spruce, the hemlock and the Thuya are gradually replaced
by more southern species. The sugar pine kP Lambettiann i here
first appears. The California laurel iCmbellulari) covers with
magnificent growth the broad river bottoms. The Lilucedrua,
several oaks, and the chinquapin here n ach the northern limita
of I heir distributi-m. The change trom the northern to the south-
trn forest is marked by the appearance of the Port Orfot J cedar
(ChamsEcyparis Lawsoniuna), adding variety and value to the
forests ot the southern Oregon coast- Farther south, near the
northern boundary of California, the redwood forests (Sequoia)
appear.
The Coast Forest of California will be most conveniently dis- Coast ot
cussed under three subdivisions: the forest of the Coast Range, California..
the forest of the western slope of the Sierra Nevada, which,
toward the northern boundary of the state, extends to the coast,
covering the mass of mountains which here unite tbe Sierra
Nevada and the Coast Range; aud. third, the open forest of the
long, narrow valleys lying between the Coast Range and ih«
Sierra Nevada south of this northern connection. The importau ^
feature of the Coast Range, us far south us the thirty-aevent \
degree of latitude, is the belt of redwood occupying an irregulai
interrupted strip of territory facing the oeean, and hardly exceed-
ing thirty miles in width at the points of its greatest development.
The heaviest growth of the redwood forest occurs north ot the bay
of San Francisco; and here, along the slopes and bottom of the
narrow canons of the western slope of the Coast Range, the maxi-
mum productive capacity of the forest is reached. No other
forest of similar extent equals in tbe amount of material which
they contain the groups of redwood scattered along the coast of
northern California. The red fir reaches, in the California Co.Tst
Range, a size and value only surpassed in the more nurthern for-
ests of the coast; the yellow pine is an important tree in the
northern portions of this region, and here flourish other species of
the genua endemic to this region. The forest of the Coast Range
is marked by the presence within its limits of several species of
singularly restricted distribution. Cupressus macrocarpa and
Pinus inaignis are confined to a few isolated groves upon the
shores of the bay of Monterey; Abies bracfeata occupies ihree or
four canons high up in the Santa Lucia mountains; it is found
nowhere else: and Pinus Torreyana, the most local arborescent
s|)eeies of North America, has been detected only in one or two
small groups upon the .«and-dunes just north of the bay of San
Diego. The characteristic forest of the Coast Range isehfcked
from farther southern development a little below the thirty fifth
parallel by insuflBcient moisture; the scanty forests which
clothe the high declivities of the Coast> Range farther south belong
in composition to the Sierra fore?t3.
The heavy forest which covers tbe western slopes of the Sierra The Sierr«.
Nevada, a forest only surpassed in density by the redwood belt of Nevada
the coast and the fir forest of Puget sound, occuj-ies, in its forests
greatest development, a belt situated between i,(W and 8.0(Ki feet
elevation. This forest belt extends from about the base of mount
Shasta at the north to the thirty-fifth parallel; farther south it
diminishes in density and disappears upon the southern ridges of
the Coast Range just north of the southern boundary of California.
Its greatest width occurs in northern California, where to the
south of mount Shasta, the Sierra system is broken down into a
broad mass of low ridges and peaks. Tho characteristic species of
this forest is the great sugar pine (P. Lambertiana), which heT9
reaches its greatest development and value, and gives unsur-
passed beauty to this mountain forest. With the sugar-pine are
associated tbe red fir. the yellow pine, two noble Abies, th«
Libocedrus; and. toward the central part of the state, the great
Sequoia, appearing first in small isolated groups, and then, farther
south, near the headwaters of Kern river, in a narn.w belt extend-
ing more or less continuously for several miles. This hedvy forest
of the Sierras, unlike the forest which farther north covers the
western flanks of the Cascade Range, is almost destitute of under-
growth and young trees. It shows the influence of a warm
climate and unevenly distributed rainfall upon forest growth-
The trees, often remote from one another, have attained an enor-
mous size; but they have grown slowly. Above this belt the
Sierra forest stretches upward to the limits of tree growth. It u
here subalpine and alpine in character, and of little economic
value. Different pines and furs, the moantain hemlock, and the
western juniper, are scattered in open stretches of forest upon the
high ridges of the Sierras. The forest below the belt of heavy
growth gradually becomes more open. Individual trees are
smaller, while the number of species increases. The small pines
of the upper foot hills are mingled with oaks in considerable
variety. These gradually increase in number. Pines are less
frequent, and finally disappear. ..,..,,„,,
The forest of the valleys is composed of oaks, the lndl^^duals \ alley
often widely scattered and of great size, but nowhere forming a foreeta.
continuous, compact growth. The Coast Forest of the Pacific
region, unsurpassed in density, is composed of a comparatively
small number of species, often attaining enorinous size. It pre-
sents the same g^-neral features throughout its entire extent.
except as modified by the climatic conditions of the regions which
it covers. The species which compose this forest range thrnugh
nearlv 26 degrees of latitude, or northern species, are replaced in
the south by closelv allied forms; and, as in the Atlantic region.
the southern species far exceed in number those peculiar to the
The Interior Forest extends from the southern limits of th<
northern subarctic forest to the plateau of northern Mexi-o: it
occupies the entire recion between the eastern limits of the l\ieifi(i
Coast Forest and the extreme western limits of the .At intio
region. The forests of this entire region, as compared with tht
bU u
UNITED STAli^S
[forest?
ifsts east and rfest of it, are stunted and remarkiible in their
pov my of composition. They are confined to the high slopes and
an 3ns of tile numerous mountiiin ranges compo^iu^ the interior
regijn. while the valleys are treeless, or. ouiside of the narrow
tiver bottoms, nearly treeless. The interior forest attains its
greutest development and considerable importance upon the
:je,- em slope of the California Sierras and upon the flanks of the
iigh peaks of the southern Rooky Mountain system, from Colo-
rad I, where the timber line reaches an extreme elevation of
13,51)0 feet, to southern New Me.^ioo and western Arizona. Ihe
Binimum in North American forest development, outside the
ibsolutely treeless regions, both in the number of species and in
the proportion of forest to entire area, is found south of the Blue
Ijouutiiins of Oregon, in the arid region between the W ahsatch
Bouiit.iins and the sierra Nevada, known as the Great Basin.
Here the open, stunted forest is confined to the highest ridges and
dopes of the infrequent canons of the low mountain ranges wbich
Jccupy, with a general north and south trend, this entire region.
Ilie individuals which compose this forest are small, although often
af immense age. and everywhere show the marks of a severe strug-
{le f>r existence. Seven arborescent species cnly have beeadeteot-
3d i I the forests of the northern and central portions of this region.
Ihe mountain mahogany {Cerroearpusi, the only broadleaved
Bpecii.- of the region, with the exception of the aspen, which
throughout the entire interior region borders, above an elevation
of S.'iW feet, all mountain streams, reaches here its greatest
devlopment. This tree, with the nut pine {Pinus monophylla).
eh M-acterizes this region. Stunted junipers are scattered over the
lowest slopes of the mountains, or farther south often cross the
hiifh valleys, and cover with open growth the mesas, as the lower
foot-hills are locally known. An open forest of arborescent
yuccas \Yucca hrerifoUa) upon the nigh Xlojave plateau is a
chirncteristic and peculiar feature of the flora of this interior
region. The red fir and the yellow pine, widely distributed
throughout the Pacific region, do not occur upon the mountain
range* of the (ireat Basin. . , :, , v
Eorest" The heavy forests of the interior region, found along the
interior western slopes of the California Sierras and upon the Rocky
Moiioiain system, are, for the most part, situated south of the
foriv-second degree of latitude. The forests of the whole northern
interior portion of the continent, outside the region occupied in
the northern Rocky Mountains by the eastern development of the
Coast Forest, feel the influence of infuflipient moisture; the
number of species of which they are compo-ed is not large; the
individuals are often small and stunted, while the forests are
open, scattered, without undergrowth, and confined to the cinons
and high slopes of the mountains. The most generally di-tributed
species of this northern reg*en. a scrub pine, iPinus ilurrayana).
occurdes vast areas, almost to the exclusion of other siiecies, and
is gradually taking possession of ground cleared by fire of more
valuable tree*. South of the fifty-second parallel he red fir
(Pseudolsiiga) and the yellow pine (Pinus ponderosaf appear;
with them is associated, in the Blue .Mountains and in some of the
ranges of the northern Rocky Mountains, the western larch
(Larij: occideniulis), the largest and most valuable tree of the
Columbian i-asin. . /: ^t l^- xt j
The forest covering the eastern slope of the Sierra >evada con-
sists almost e.vclnsively of various species of pine, often of great
size and value. The characteristic species of this region are the
yellow pine and the closely allied Pinus Jeffreyi. here reacbing
its greatest development. The red fir is absent from this forest.
while [he oaks. multii)lied in many forms on the western slopes of
these mountains, have here no representative.
The forests of the southern Rocky .Mountain region, less heavy
MdA less generally distributed than tho-e of the western slope of
the Sierras, are, as compared with those of the (jreat Basin, heavy,
dense, and valuable. They owe their existence to the compara-
tively large precipitation of moisture distributed over this ele-
vated region. The chKracteristic species of the Colorado moun-
tains is a spruce i Picen Engelmnnni): it forms, at between 8.U01I
»nd lii,iWi feet elevation, extensive and valuable forests of con-
nderable density and u'reat beauty; with it are associated a balsam
fir of wide northern distribution, and various alpine and subalpine
species of pine ; at lower elevations forests of yellow pine and red
fir cover the mountain slopes, while the bottoms of the streams
»re lined with cottonwood. alder, and maple, or with an open
fowth of the white fir I Abies concolor). a species of the Coast
orcst. here reaching the eastern limits of its distribution; the
tootrhills above the treeless plain are covered with scant groves of
fce nut-pine {Pinus edulis: stunted junipers, and a small oak,
«hich in many forms extends through a large area of the southern
kiterior region. A forest similar in general feitures to that of
Colorado, and largely composed of the same species, extends over
file high mountains of New .Mexico to those of western Texas and
irestem and northwestern Arizona, where a heavier forest of pine
lovers the elevated region lying alorg the thirtv-fifth parallel,
onlminating in the high fores^clad San Francisco mountains of
northern Arizona. «... . . , ,
The species of the intenor Pacific region mingle along its
Bouthem borders with the species peculiar to the platenu of
northern Mexico. The Pacific- .Mexican Forest, although differing
widely in natural features from the .-Mlantic-Mcxican Forest,
possesses several species peculiar to the two. The forests of this
region are confined to the high mountains and their foot-hills, and
to the banks of the rare water-courses. They disappear entirely
from the Colorado desert and from the valleys and low mountain
■-aoges of southwestern .\rizonn. The most important and gener-
ally distributed species peculiar to the vallevs of this region is the
■nesquit, the characteristic species of the AtlanticMexican region.
The suwarrow. however, the great tree cactus, is perhaps the most
remarkable species of the region, giving an unusual and striking
tcpearance to the dry mesas of central and southern Arizona.
The high mountain ranges, extending across the boundary of ttv
United States, between the one hundred and fifth and the ooC
hundii'f' and eleventh meridians, enjoy a larger and more rcg*
larly oistributed rainfall than the regions east, and especially
west, of these meridians. The lorests which co\er the.-e southert
mountain ranges arc often dense and varied. Upon their summit
and almost inaccessible upper slopes the firs and pines of tht
Pacific region are mingled with pines, a juniper, an arbutus, ana
various other species peculiar to the Mexican plateau. Extensiva
forests of a cypress of Mexican origin also characterise this moun-
tain vegetation. The bottoms of the canons are lined with a
dense growth of cottonwood, hnckberrj-, a noble sycamore, an ash,
a cherry, and other deciduous trees. The high foot-hills and mesaa
are covered with open groves of various oaks peculiar to the
Mexican-Pacific region, here reaching, within the United States
at least, their greatest development.
Such are some of the prominent forest features of JNorth
America; a den-e forest, largely composed, except at the north, of
a great variety of broad-leaved species, and extending from the
Atlantic sea-board in one nearly unbroken sheet until checked by
insufticient moisture from farther western development— the f»rest
of the Atlantic t> gion; a forest of conifers, occupying the ranges
of the great Cordilleran mountain sy.-tem. unsurpassed m density
in the humid climate of the coast, open and stunted in the and
interior— the forest of the PaeiGc region. ... . „ i.
A more detailed examination of the distribution of Mortn
American arborescent genera and species will serve to illustrate
the wealth of the forests of the Atlantic and the comparative
poverty of those of the Pacific region. It will show, too, more
clearly how widely the forests of these two great regions differ in
The economical importance of the forests of the United States The ecmtaji^
is very great, but can hardly be expressed by figures. Some facts, ical import-
however, mav be stated in this connection. The wood from the anco of th«
forest is used in the main for fuel. Although coal exists in abun- foresU.
dance over certain regions, and although there are pans of the
thickly settled regions where forests are scanty, there is no dis-
tiict where some wood is not used as fuel. In the cities of <the
East— even those which are in the immediate vicinity of eo«l— »
good deal of wood is necessarily consumed in the form of kmd-
lings,— an important item where anthracite is the coal supplied;
and, moreover, open fires are extensively used by the wealthier
class, in conjunction with coal in furnaces. In other regions
where coal is abundant, forests are also abundant, and as these
must he cut down to be sawn into lumber, or to cleiir the land for
cultivation, there is a large supply of wood available as fuel, but i
not fit to be used for building or manufacturing, bxeept m the
large cities, and occasionally in the towns of second and third
rank, wood is used almost exclusively for the building of houses
and barns in the United States. Fences also consume a very large
amount of wood, this material being in common use for this pur-
pose wherever timber is abundant, and often where it is not, as in
the prairie States, where, however, within a few years, wire hag
begun to be very extensively used for fences. There is also a very
large consumption of wood for furniture and for those portions of
various implements, esiieeially agricnitnral. which are niade of
this material. An even larger supply of wood is required tor ttie
boxes and barrels in which various articles of merchandise are
transported The consumption of wood in the form of barrels, as
required by the two articles flour and salt, is very large. .
The great demand for cheap wooden ware, and the extensive use )^<=r>
of wood in building houses, and for various portions of the finish- wooden
ing and fittings of houses and barns, has led to the invention of ware,
veiy ingenious machinery by the aid of which w-ood is wrought
into almost every variety of forms with very ittle direct help froni
human hands. This makes the coarser kinds of furniture and of
household implement--, exceedingly cheap. As an example, it may
be mentioned that barrels strong enough to hold in trnnsrortatioa
two hundred and eightv pounds of salt are made in Michigan tor
^°-|rbuild'ing'':rifg*L'^nse'f-that is, of such dwellings as are I-OR house.,
made by piling trunks of trees on each other, either in their
natural shap . or partly squared with the axe-is almost a thing
of the past, although once extremely common. \ cry few districts
in the region of abundant forests are so far away from sow-mi.,a
and railroads as to make a log house the most economical form^
dwelling. Occasionally some large, substantial and well-finishej
buildings are erected " log-house fashion, .either as a matter 0
fancy, or to attract attention by an exterior of exceptional a«
pearance. .
Some idea of the importance of the forests froni an ecc K ^
point of view can he gained from the following figures i
the census of 18S0. in reference to the manufacture of sa
her: —
Nuniberof establishments cioiia^-'>;
Capital invented...... .-.••■ * irj'o^.
Average iiumher of hands employed itiViinn
Feet ot lumber produced • • ;18;23 :?-^l,';S§
Number of laths iXv, i ji; nnn
Number of shingles i 32< 4 Mft
Number of staves i£"s«nflO
Number sets headings. ?5 mKnlS
Feetof bobbin and spool stock *t,U/b,tW«
Total value of the above specified pro- ^^^
ducts '^.)"ccVfifiQ
Value of other producM ""-'""
Totalvalue $233,367,729
8CESOGRA.PH1CAL.J
UNITED STATED
807
Tbe consumption of wood " for domestio purposes '* — that_ is, as
Jiel in houses — is given by the census of 1SM> as amounting to
10.537 ,4o9 cords, baviiigan rsiiuiattd value of J3l.6.Ho<i.(40.
Value M The total consumption of wood iis fuel is giveu as follows :—
^ynyd Cords. Value.
Fordomestic fuel 140,537,439 $3t16,95il,040
Byrailroals l,971,f>13 5,126,714
Bysieamboat- 787.S62 l,JI2,b»3
In miniug and -melting 6:;4,^4-5 3.548,2tf5
In making bricks and tiles 1,157,5J2 3,978,3.31
Inmakingsalt 54ii,44» 121.6S1
In woollen manufacture 158,-08 425,239
Total 145,778.137 S321,%2.373
The total value of the wood used as lumber and as fuel amounts,
therefore, to no less than S555.3oO.Iu2, if the figures given by tbe
census of ISSO are to be trusted. Tbe value of tbe wood consumed
as fuel m the United States was m«}re than tbr--e limes as great as
that of tbe coal mined. In fact, the timber of the country is tbe
greatest of all its mati^rial possessions. The coal, once exhausted,
can never be restored, not even with tbe lapse of an indefinite
amount of time, for the conditions favorable to tbe production of
coal on the earth have entirely ceased to exist. The timber, on
the other iiand, is restored, after destruction by mau, by the kindly
hand of Nature. This is the case, at least, over the whole of the
once densely timbered portion of the country, where the various
growths succeeding each other after the primal forest has been re-
moved offt-r a satisfactory substitute for th.at which has been m-ide
use of. either nattirally or as an easily attainable result of cultiva-
tion. In regions where the rainfall isof insuffici'-nt amount, there
appears to be a tendency in Nature to replace the original growth
by one of inferior quality. Whether this inf^'riority would be
lasting or not, seems a doubtful matter. That there has been a
diminution of tbe precipitation, certainly dating back to the Ter-
tiary age. and. in all probability, to a much earlier time, is a
ecological Fact established beyond all possible doubt. That this
diminution has anything to do with the removal of tbe forests by
the hand of man, or that man can to any perceptible extent in-
fluence tbe general climate of the country, there is not the slight-
est reason for believing.
SCEXOGR-iPHICAL.
The great extent of the territory occupied by the United States
is ft sufficient reason why there should be a corresponding variety
in the scenery. In the early history of the county, when only the
Atlantic coast and tbe eastern side of the .-Appalachian belt were
known to travelers, the landscape was generally considered
monotonous by those who visited this region as tourists, or with a
^ew to the erjoyment and description of its scenery. This impres-
eion of uniformity and monotony wjis further confirmed, as the
Blississippi Valley and tbe region of tbe (Treat Lakes were added
, to the tourist's range. .Many persons visited tbe prairies of Illi-
Li2oisand the adjacent States for the purpose of getting an idea of
ia vast expanse uf almost unbroken country such as could hardly
beobtained elsewhere in the Northern Hemisphere without visit-
^ log Southeastern Russia and the country east of the Urals. Tbe
general resemblance of the Appalachian Mountain scenery to
{hat of parts of Northern and Central Europe — as, for instance,
ibat of the White Mountains to that of tbe Erzebirge, or that of
Northern New England to that of Scandinavia — could hardly es-
cape notice, similarity of topographical features being supplemen-
ted in many cases by the absence of any specially marked differ-
ences in the floras of the regions in question. Thus tbe writer,
; having spent a summer in a geological exploration of New Hamp-
shire, found himself after a very short interval of time traveling
through Southern Sweden. The impression of the scenic similar-
ity of the two regions was extremely interesting. Not only were
the rocks, rock-forms and topographical features the same, but
the vegetation— although of course not identical so far as the
, species were concerned — made._ from the scenic point of view, al-
most exactly the same impression on the eve in the Scandinavian
country that it did over large portions of New England.
In those early days of travel, especially of English travel, to the
United States, the dominating idea was to see Niagara Falls,
which was the great point of attraction. Occasionally an adven-
'jirotis traveler went farther West and down tbe Mississippi ; but
for ninety-nine out of a hundred tourists who \'isited this country
and described its scenery, Niagara was the Ultima Tbule. The
farthest opening of the '" Farthest West " by roads and railroads, the scien-
West. tific erpleration of the Cordilleran region, the development of its
mineral resources, and the rapidly growing desire on tbe part of
many to see as much of the world as possible — all this has very
greatly enlarged tbe range of experience in the enjoyment of scen-
ery, while the art of photography has rendered it possible for those
not caring to travel, to understand and enjoy the scenic features of
distant countries, and to compare unders tandingly the landscapes
of regions widely separated from each other.
To attempt to describe tbe principal features of the scenery of a
tjounlry having an area of more than three million square miles, is,
of course, something not to be thought ot in the present connec-
tion. All that can be done is to indicate some of the points most
Tisitcd, and most worthy of being visited, by tourists, and to
compare in a genei-al way. some of the more striking features of
the landscape of this country with those of regions of similar scenic
character in other parts of the world.
Appalach- . In doing this we may begin witb the mountains. Tbe Appalach-
ian Moun- ian Mountain scenery is only to be compared witb that of tbe
Win seen- minor chains of Europe, since these eastern ranges never rise to
ery. the snow-line, and are almost always^ wooded to their summits,
Ihe principal features of Appalachian topography have been
already dwelt upon to as great an extent as space would allow :
Ml,, it needs here only to Be stated that, while tb' "'ture- -3
often of exceeding interest to geologists and other close sttldents
of nature, they do nut exhibit any forms which in grandeur can be
compared with those t'f common occurrence in the Cordilleras or
the .\lps or, still more, in the Himalaya. There are from the
scenic point of view few, if any. unique figures in the Appalach-
ian n\uges. The neaiest apj. roach to such is pi rhar-s tbe Natural
Bridge in Virginia — an arch of limestone gracefully spai nirig a
cha-iu about two hundred feet detp and sixty feet wide —
and the Profile in the Franeonia Notch, in which ma,sses of rock
are so disposed as to represent, in gigantic dimensions, and with
sriking approach to accuracy in general outline, the profile of at
human face. Fully as fine a profile as thut in the M hiie Moun-
tains is to be seen in Colorado ; but as this latter locality is not
easily accessible, and is surrounded by an abundance of grand
scenery, it is hardlv known to tbe general tourist, and set ms never
to have been described, while of the Profile in tbe White Moun-
tains the descriptions are numerous. To the trained eye of the
topographer and geologist the extraordinary intricate and excep-
tional forms of the rangt-s and vallejsin Central Pennsylvania are
of vastly greater interest than such accidental and fanciful occur-
rences as the Profile in the Franconia Notch. .^ . y
A purely American name for something which is not of uncom- « ■ S„„r^
mon occurrence in mountain regions is the word " flume, ^bich tsan niu»
as applied in the United States, and chiefly in the ^\ bite Moun-
tains, means a narrow passage or defile between nearly perpendio-
ular rocks, through which rui-s a stream, and usually wiih a suo-
cession of cascades- The Whit'- .Mountain flume, in tbe Franconia
Notch, is the localitv of this kind most visited. It is about four
hundred fcit in length, ami the walls are from twenty to fifty fee'
in height. A deip cut in tbe sandstone at Keesville. New lors
near Lake Chomplain. on tbe .\o Sable River, is called a "chasm.
The term '" notch." is used in tbi White Mountains, and tea limit
ed extent in the Adirondacbs. for pass or mountain valley. Sitn
ilar passes or di-i sessions in the Appalachian ranges farther South,
especially in Pi nn.-ylvania. are called "gaps." Those which are
deeply cut duwn, so as to give passage to streams, are called
" water gaps: " thore in which tbe depression in the ridge is no'
sufficiently deep to give passage to n water-course, aie known a
" wind-gaps." The gorge at the gi eat Ix-nd of the Delaware, when
this stream traverses the Kittatinny Range, and which i.- known as
the " Delaware Water-Gap." is a prominent fcenic feature of this
The points in the New England portion of the .Appalathian sys- New Englaad
tem which are most visited by tourists for the sake of the pano- Moantai»-
ramie views which they afford are .Mount Washington— the only
point over six thousand feet in elevation in the Appalachians
north of North Carolina: Mount Lafayette, in the Franconia
Range 1.5.2! 0 feet) ; Moosilauke (4.7Vi(' feet), a I'ttle farther south;
Monadnoek, near the southern border of New Hampshire (3J69
feet); Mount Mansfield, in the iJrcfn Mountain Range in \ er-
mont '4.3-9 feet) ; Oreyloek. in the northwest corner of Massachus-
etts (3,.505 feet). The Adirondncks also attract great numbers of
visitors, where the lakes and streams iiffnrd opportunities for
boating and fishing, and where the scenery is extremely attractive,
especially in the autumn after the leaves have begun to change
their color, most of this region being siill covered with the prime-
val forest. Mount Marcy, or Tabawas 5.344 feet, and Whitefaca
{4,871 feet) are the points mostfrequenth ascended in this region;
but there are many others, ranging from ihree to five thousand feet
in elevation, which offer fine views and are not at all difiicult of ac-
cess. The Catskill gronpis also a region much resorted to by tourists,
partly on account of the beanty of the scenery, and partly because
it is so easily reached from New York. Tbe high mountain region in
North Carolina is too remote to attract many visitors from the
Northern and Eastern States: and the facilities for travel m that
region are as vet extremely deficient, in striking contrast with the
condition of things in this respect in the mountain districts of
New England and New York, where almost every point can be
reached bv railroad, and where hotels are numerous and commo-
dious, and the business of receiving and taking care of " summer
boarders " seems to be a most important one for the permanent
residents. . . 1 ri .^-n
The mountain scenery of the Cordilleran region is extremely Lordillenu,
varied in character, as has already been made evident to the read- Alountam
erin the sketch of the topography of that part of the country scenery,
given in the preceding pages. Only a few of its more important
features can here be indicated. ,
In elevation the Cordilleran ranges are comparjble to the
Swiss Alps, although there is no point in the L nited Mates Proper
quite as high as Mont Blanc (15,7S4 feet), or Monte Rosa (10,217 .
feeti : but there are several which surpass the finster .Aarhorn,-—
the culminating point of the Bernese Oberland (14,056 fe»t),-an(I
there are a large number which have a greater elevation than
the Jungfrau (13,671 feet). A very curious feature in tbe Cordifc
leras is the closeness with which the highest peaks approach eaca
other in altitude, as shown bv the following table of elevations ot
all the points in the United States supposed to be over fourteen ,
thousand three hundred feet high, all of which are in the Koeky
Mountains, and all in Colorado witb the exception of the two vol-
canic cones, Shasta and Rainier:—
MOCSTAIN. ELEV .trios AT AtTrHORITT.
SE.k I.VVEL.
Blanca Peak 14.464 Hayden Survey.
Mount Rainier 14,414 U. s. Coast^ Survey.
MountShasta 14,442
Mount Harvard 14,375
Mount Elbert 14,351
(Irav'sPeak 14,341
Jlount Rosalie 14,.340
Torrey'sPeak 14,336
Mount Evans 14,.330
La Plata Mt 14,311
Cal. Geol. Survey.
Hayden (14.45? Whitney).
Hayden Survey.
Hayden (U.Sli' Whitney),
Havden Survey.
Hayden (14,375 WhitnayV. :
Hayden.
Hayden Snrrey.
UNITED STATES
jSievntioDS
in Colorado.
Comparison
«f Cordil-
leras and
Alps.
Mount
S ha Ft a.
MouDt
Uood.
Mf'unt
lluiriier
808
Theabce are all the Poic«, 'n/h^ Co^dmeras Mi.ved.^j^o^be
over fo"'l«|\;h™ff?v^i,?;ev which his been several limes meas-
exception of Mo""V „ ^iinV results ranging al the »ay trum
ured. «ith rather ^'^£"'^'1^°' ^'rt''™ however, fe believiLg
14.6li.Jto U-SaStoi': ''''7„\%n the l^ite'd slates/not including
this to be the b-ghest. point in the Lmtea.«i^ ,xceptii.n of
Alaska. All the .^eights g'™° ,'^,%"b^'J^'°eter. and are not to
Rainier, were obtained by the a>d dthe ^aro elevations in Colo-
be taken as being absolutely 'lffV™'®-,i,^°^s,,it of a combination
rado by the Hayden Sap-ey. which Ye^her.^lt ot ac ^^^
of barometrical and t",?™"" ^'X ,rath"i™^ measurement of
pretty close "l-PV"^''."*' °"j» ^'^on trigonome rical measurements
Rainier, depending .is it el a ™ "f j^pr-s opinion-not to be
made at a great distance, «'<'-L°^'''''f "Ji'^he truth than a single
accepted as final, and.imy b*^ t"|\\Ve been? but this mountain,
'aKt'i:sfve;il H J^s^-e-nd^d! h'lf not btei measured baromet-
"^rt/essential diference between .he Cordilleranrange^^^^
Alps is that the Utter a,e ^^^^ '^.^ ^^^^'''^iTri^e to vermOL-
snow than are the f"™'"-"'! ow the snow-line and constitut-
nentglaeiers,descending farbdow the smw nne^ .^ ^^^
ing a very prominent and " ^f,'^^f^y,^*J™Ln of the great vol-
scenery of the fi|h" A^P^ >> '^" ^ ,^^ J^e Range there is no
came cones of tnenierra i-< '->''"'• " : forms a prominent
part of.theCordilleras where snow or KC forms a P^^^^^j^^
feature in the ^^uery during the ™mmer. «t in ^^^^^^^_
ing great patches l;7'"''«™«"jA^^^'^5","eaturt A remarkable e.t-
rather ■'.''•'"E''"^'^''' /'!""/ ''\'^fr°Moun"a7nof the Holy Cross,"
ception .s the cross of ^^now °° 'he ■^''"'"f^j"^?^ „re small masses
to which i'""?'"" 'hlthe rrfeaks of "ome of the CordiUeran ranges,
of ice around the highest r*"''V„„^ ontirelv concealed by snow,
but those.are tre„uently "o^ered and entire yconceaie y.^^^ ^^
same ai.pearance in summer when seen ,nd.terem
™J^^rih^rseven,y ^Jf^^ Tlh^^'s^Z^ l7rl
t^s ^^sZ^^ I^J^Mi^ di^^r^^^
1862, in looking from t^e summit down upon i ^^^^
sLsta pres.'nted the aPf*«"°<^^,P'/„f fsTmasras seen from a
an almost regular cone. «^"»'^e slights steeper towa ^^
rh^X'r.''^Uh"rs^arilr:*s?mewhaTs°t?e%l';:''su"bsidiary cone on
''^fou^^'t^ffo^dls a very .conspicuous and i-d mountam ma.s on
siXtfi:j^r^^J^'|S:?g;o?adl^r;^^
^aX^-^o^n^ diffi-Uy.^ ^'h'e"Lme ^ay be said in
deeply ami ext.nsU'U <'"\"\'^-''y"' )' tnn-lcd forest without
[SCE.N OG RAPHICAl..
number of points of view by Mr. C. t-. W atfcms, ol oan ^
*'nnfhe°whole, these great isolated snow- coyered volcanic cones '
of the Pacific coast are from the scenic point of view, the grand- 1
S S^a^^^?; m^lJ^^ifS^ph^l "j-^eS^?
ones of MeVico and.Vrhaps, not much less admirable as scenic
obfec?s than the mucli liltier cones of South Amenca. whic-h all
rii from yerv high bases, and of which the snoiy-covered portions
seem but msignificant in extent as compared with the uncovered
;Pa'^lelc-naracter of the^ granitic »--- the other the dome^
S£SmS^^- ^En;i^sU^h?ci^ihe^
nntnllv in the vicinity of Mount ^^ hilney; in a group of moun-
mmmmmm
ring m the United States '» ^erj gie ^ ^^^^^ (^
and the \osemite Falls, i?^ °'\' '» \eature. In the Shoshone
volume of water '^ '^e all-imrortant lea ure j^feHor to
than that ot Mingara. ^"" '•"°,, a ■•improvements' of civiliza-
entirely uninjured by he so-called imp^^^^^^^ ^^^.^^ ^^^
tion. The Yosemite fa . o° t^e o^»f r '>»"'J>^' ^j^^^ „hile the
volume of water is *°'»»' oi't «he teigut eYrao" ; ■ „.,5no„n
settingot the fall is surpassingly »f»V'di^/;'»f^f,iVscenic atlrao-
that description is ""D'^l^^y- JiVvWted not only because it is
tionsof the country ™ost friquent y vKitea.^ot o_5 ^^^^^
one of the greatest of '^e water-falls ottne worm ^^^^^^
of the Zambezi.surpa.'^sing it '•> ^''^'^^f "^'? *„. V je of the Atlantic
-*>"? ''S'YotmitT Valley.' w"h"aU iL'^ater falls, is farther
coast. Ihe \osemue * »'"^»/ chnshone Falls, but rcallv much
away from .the East than the -^hostmne l-al ^ ^^^^i^^,.^bl.- dis-
more accessible than the latter. " uieu entirely unvisitcd
tance from any tnh"bit"i t-e^'O"-^ tv,non of the Tuolumne River,
regions of water^falls. that of the t nnon ei ^ ,he most
a few miles north of the ^osemite V an y,^^^ P ^^^^^^
interesting. Here are "".'^ ""^ V'-S'ilj,,, ^^d most romaniio
great height, ^.o' fnto which bar lly a Travder has ever found his
scenery-a region into which nareiiy a ir ,ruth of the region
"/'■;. ^«"=:],"\"n Hi^h '"err™ad:acent to Mount Whitney, wh, re
of the Southern High Sierra aa^acen ^^^.^^ characterise
The Yotmit°e^ and'on af.rst'lSpnd a scale as in . Ms now very
'f^e^uen^l^'^isited anel comparatively acce^iblelocam^^ ^^^^^^^ ^^
fe^tu-^eT^^arj^ erll fng W^unst^a^^^^^^^^^
Sicioi^nMr^^^l^ £^?:- Kv^ ^^-'-
canons of the Colorado an. t«^''™ i"*:^ °"'L',!°,To™ of railroads
ir;?^?hi|^^;=^nfH!B£iS-ei^^wS
loess region of No/t^c™, '^hina ma> be . t™ng ^^^^^^^ . ^^^
gible in therecord which t presents of pa^.J^g_^_^g _^^ ^^^
from a scenic pont ot.viewtne ii walls, may unhesl-
ern Plateau, region ."'th their nmnsco "re ' „„'„i^^,, ^
tatingly lie included in the list of the ear n^ ^^^^ ^.^^^
A portion of the oo';"^;^^,;;;")™ search of the picturesque. and
^SIs'now'uiL ^ceTJbf/ly railroad, is the Geyser region ot
MINER.\L RESOURCES.]
r X I T E D STATES
809
Tbennai
Spring!.
<Hrd □ ot
tliaGod$.
Mining
bajioes*.
^1
ipTeraor
^inthrop.
* the Yellowstone. Here the scientifically iutfrcstiug and the pic-
turesque unite to fumiih a type of senary wiihout a rivitl of
• it5 iiiud. surpassing even the now devested wonderland of New
Zealand. The Yellowstone Park, a^ it is frequently called. b>
cause reserved by the lulled Slates aud devoted to public use as a
rificiog grouad or park, with the idea of prote«.-tii:g it from gpecu-
laturs and mischief-makers, was early known to >^.me of the more
adventurous of the tur-hi:nters who roamed over the tireat North-
west; but it is only within a few years thai descriptions of it
have been published, imd its c.vtraordinary character so clearly
established as to induce travelers to undertake the long journey
necessary for its inspection. Thermal springs in gr-ial number,
many of which are the periodically spoutinf. or geyser type; pools
of hot water, both large and small, the sides and bottoms of which
are li^ie-i with the most exquisitely and brilliantly colored micro-
scor-ic vegetati-n. remarkable deposits from the hot springs, some
of which exhibit curi';ius furms. seen nowhere else, except in .Xsia
Minor and in New Zealand, as it was before the volcanic eri:ption
of l^-6; grand mountain scenery, with water-rails, lakes and deep
canitns. whose walls are fantastically colored by volcinic depo-its
and sulphurous emanations — these are the principal features of
the Yell 'wstone region. It can be reached by the N rthem
Paciric railroad, from a station on which road, called Livinjtstone.
ten hundred and thirty-two miles from St. Paul, a branch fif tv-une
miles in length runs toCinnabar, on the boundary line of the so-
ealled *' Yellowstone National Park." There are numerous ex-
eelleut photographs of this region, which has also been finely illus-
trateti iu a f.dio volume with chromo. lithographs from paintings
by Thom :s Moran. The geologiail and scenic p».-cnliarities of the
Yellowstone regi^'-n have been fully elucidated in various Unit<-d
States tJeoIogical rep^^rts. and especially in a voluminous one by
Dr. A. C. Peale. included in the second volume of flaydcn's Re-
port for the year 1S78.
There is a type of scenery of a remarkable character well
exhibited along the bise of the Rocky .Maintains at various
points, and especially at a locality called the Garden of the Gods,
near Pike's Peak, and easily accessible by railroad. Theattraction
here is the remarkable effect of the erosion and withering of the soft
sandstones, which occurin bedsofgre:it thickness. Manyfanta.«!tic
shapes, such as columns or obelisks, of large diraensijns. occurring
eithvr singly or in clusters, and often capped in the mo-t curious
manner by great flat tables of hardtr rock, are seen in this inter-
esting region- Indeed, all along the eastt-m base of the Rocky
Mountains in Colorado are many strange and picturesque forms,
partly the result of direct uplift, and partly of erosion, which
are alike interesting to the lover of the picturesque, and the
student of geology. The long crested uplita of sedimentary ro^k
worn inVi curved outlines, and often of grand dimensions, which
characterize this region are known by the fi*milar n irae of *" hog-
backs." and the resrion itself as the " hog-bnck country."
Of xh': scenic effect of the vegetation of the country, and espe-
cially its forests, notice has already been taken to as great an
extent as space here permits.
IIIVKRAL BESOCRCKS.
Iron ore was smelted at Falling Creek. Virginia, a- early as 1620.
The raids upon the whit^-s at this time, made by ih- Indians, put a
stop to the indusin.-. From 1613 to 1671 the busiuess of smelting
and manufacturing iron was successfully carried on at Lynn.
Massachusetts. About 1789 there were fourteen furnaces "and
more than thirty forges in operation in Pennsylvania.
_ The business of mining for other metals than iron within the ter-
ritory of the United States is of much more recent origin. To
this S'atement. however, an exception must be made in reference
to the meral copper, which had been extensively mined in the
Lake >uprior region long before the first visit of the Eaglish to
these shores. Indeed, so ancient are these workings that no posi-
tive knowledge exists as to the people or tribes by whom they
were e.Kecuted. When the region in question was opened to the
whites for ser tiement in ls44. it was found that the copper-bearing
n>cks had been mined through their whole extent along the south-
em sb ".r-^ of Lake ."superior, and even on the almost inaccessible
island calle-i lile Royale. There is no reason to suppose that these
ancient working-, wh'ch in seme places had been carried to a
depth of more than fif ly feet in the solid rock, were known to the
Indians inhabiting that region at the time of the first visit of the
Jesuit lathers in 16.59-6': and the appearance of the excavatiins
indicates, beyond possibility of doubt, that they had b an made
long before that time.
.\bout the midJle of the seventeenth cntury t!-e metalliferous
indicatiOES common ia New England, and especially in Connecti
cut. engnge.1 the attention of Governor Wiuihrop. bv whom inin-
eralogieal notices of that region weres'ntio England and pub-
lishel in the Transactions of the Royal Society.
Just at the beginning of the eighteenth cen'ury a Frenchman.
Le Sueor. explored the region of the Tpper Mississippi, and sent
back to France, rock which he hid mined, supposing it to be an
oreof copper: bat it proved to beofnovalne Later in 1719 and
172fl. thj French agiin attempted to explore what was then call"d
the western porti ;n of the coontry. along the .Missi^sir'pi near the
junction of the Mis-'>uri; and some mining of the lead ore. which
at that tim? had already become known, was attempted. The
precious metals beiaa what was sought for. and there being none
lound in the region, the enterprise was soon abandoned.
At Uie beginning of ifae present century. a« it appears from
what has been stated all that had been done in the wav of dis-
covering and developing the metallic wealth of the Cnited States
was the mining and smelting of the ores of iron, on a limited
scale, in the Atlantic States, and a small production of lead in the
mining region of Missouri. E.vact statistics of these metals at
the beginning of the nineteenth century are wanting. The
' SBioant of iron ornduced in 1810 has been eatimated at fiftv tl>,.>i-
I sand tons; the production of lead about that time may have been
approximately one thousand tons a year.
, An event of great importance took place almost immediately Gold
after the value of the Lake Superior copper mining district had
, been fully ascertained, in the year iMl. This was the demonstra-
[ tion of the fact that gold existed in large quantities along the
western slope of the Sierra Nevada.
I The occurrence of gold on that portion of the Pacific coast,
, cfdied by the Mexican-Spanish Upper California, had been kn^jwu
,' for several years prior to its discovery by immigrants from the
I United States and workings had been carried on for this metal in
I the Coast Ranges, far south of the locality where it was discovered
; in IWS.
The demonstration of the fact that over a vast extent of that
distant country gold was to be had in almost unstinted quantity,
as it at first— not without reason — appeared, led to an extaordi
nary excitement throughout the older States, and to an emigration
from all parts of the world toward the newly discovered land oi
gold on an unprecedented scale of magnitude.
The area underlain by the coal-measures in the United States it
very large, aswill be seen from the following table, which repre-
sents approximately the coal areas of Carboniferous age east of
theCordilleran region That different portions of the areas hen
designated are of very different value, as respects quality and
quantity of coal, is certiiin: and that portions of them do not
contain coal-beds of sufiiciei.t thickness or of good enough quality
to be worked with profit, either at present or at any future time,
is also an undoubted fact, although these unproductive portions
are. exc-pt perhaps, in the case of the Western and Michigan fields,
of comiuratively small extent:—
Name of the field. Area. Qogi
Rhode Island 500 gq. miles, beds.
.Appalichian 56.165 "
Central (Illinois Indiana, and Kentucky) 47,250 **
Western (Missouri, Iowa. Kansas. .Arkansas and
Texas; 78.4:0
Michigan 6.7uO "
Total 192,015 sq. mUes.
Of these fields the .Appalachian is at present by far the most im-
portant, and is likely to remain in this position for an indefinite
period. The coal field of Rhode Island is not now, nor has it
ever been, worked to such an extent as to be of special importance.
The Michigan coal-field has also no present value, the quality of
the coal being inferior, and the conditions not such as to allow
successful competition with the coal of adjacent regions. The
present relative importance of the different States as regards the
production of coal and the yield of the various fields will be easily
recognized from an inspection of the following table : —
CoAi. Produced ix the SeveE-il St.\tes .\nd Tereitories. not
IXCLCDISG THE LoCAL AXD COLLIERT CoNSUMPTIOK, AND
THE Vai.ce of the Mines D." 18S5.
States axb Tebbitoeies 18S2.
1883.
PennsylTania:
Anthracite .
Bituminous.
Illinois
Ohio
Marj-land
Missouri
West Virginia
Indiuua
Iowa
Kentucky
Te:-'ne-see
Virginia
ivans;is
Michigan
Rhode Island
Alab una
(ieorgia
Colorado
Wyoming
New Mexico.
Utah
California
Oregon
Washington
Texas
Arkansas
Montana
Dakota
Idaho
Indian Territory.
L'nfftons\L
29,i2U.t963l
22,uii0,l< 0 24
9,UO(i.iXiO 10
9,4.50 too 8,
l..>10,4ti6 2.
2.000,1,00 2
2 000,000 Z
1,976.470 2.
3,l-z7.7t)0 3
i,3iiO,ooo; 1
8.o0.ltlO 1
10(1.000
7.50,000
130,000
10.000
soo.ooo' 1
175.0001
947,749,
631,932
146,421
2oO,tiOO
150,000
30,f00
225,000
'ng tons
1.793.0.7
..OOO.fto
,350.01"
,.2:;9 4ii'
!.-AI«.172i
:.2o0.olo
,>05,565
.560,00<
.SS1.300
,&i0.000
.001.000
2^.000
900.000
135.000
lO.OlO
1,400.000
200.I./00
.097,851
696,151
1&S.703
250.C<X1
175.000
50,000
300.000
lOO.OCO
75,100
60,000
50.000
](i.O<i)
175,CO0
1884.
1885.
L'ngion9
2.4r'9.0.51
2.500.1*0,
3,000.100
2.260,000
3.9C3,+58
1,.550.000
1,200,000
300.000
1,100,000
135.000
lO.OtIO
2.000.000
200,000
1,008.950
805.911
196,924
250,000
150.0C0
50,000
300,000
100,000
150.000
60.000
31,250
2D.0t<)
4'J0,000
Totals 86,710334,96323,198 97318,899
Ln^gtona
;. 265.421
. 214.2fc5
s. 742.745
6.97S.732
2.Moy74
2.750.000
3,W«,091
2,120335
3383,737
1,700.000
892,857
567,000
1,082.230
45.178
2,225.00C
133.92£
1,210,769
720,828
271.442
190.286
63,942
44,«3
339,510
1.33.928
133,928
77.179
23.214
693
446.429
95,832,70e
SIO UNITED
' States and Territories. "^ "|^[^"/^ ^j°^'i ^^
Pennsylvania : Anthracite *72.274,544
Bituminous 2t,7'ni,UO0
Illinois 1 1.4.">t}.4y3
Ohio K,20(i,9S8
Maryland 3,2i 9.b91
Missouri .. 3.86u.iJiO
West Virginia 3,36t',062
Indiana 2,7:^ 1 .250
i Iowa 4.M19,230
Kentucky 2.094.4(10
Tennessee 1,10().(H>0
Virginia t;6(i.792
iian.-as 1,410.4:38
Michigan 75,OCO
Bhude Island
Alabama 2,990.000
tGeurgia IHO.OOO .
Colorado 3.051,.'^90
Wyoming 2.42 1 .984
New Mexico 918,606
Utah 42(),n00
Califurnia 214.845
Oregon 125.000
■\Va-hi(igton 950.615
Texas 300.000
Arkansas 225,000
Montana 302.540
Dakota 91,000
Idaho 4.000
Indian Territory 750,000
Totals $152,915,268
Pennsyl- The commercial product, exclusive of that whieh is consumed at
*<tiift»n- th® mines, known as colliery consumption, during 1885, was:
Shracite. Pennsylvania anthracite. 3ri.l:i7.272. j^hort, or 32.265,421 long tons,
the market value of which hns been estimated to have been
872,274,544 ; bituminous, brown coal, lignite, and small lots of an-
thracite, mined in Colorado and Arkansas, 71.195.358 short, or
63.567,284 long tons, the market value of which has been estimated
to have been 88m.640.724. makine a total produ-'ticiu of l(i7,332.629
fihort ,o_r 95.S32,7U5 long tons, valued at S152,915.aiS. The total
production, including coUierv consumption, was Pennsylvania an-
thracite as.3i5.973 short, or ;^.22'<,548 long tons, all other coals 72.-
621,549 short, or 64.840,668 long tons, making the total absolute pro-
duction of the coal mines of the United States for the year,
110.957.522 short, or 99.069.216 long tons.
^ The coal areas of Carboniferous age in the United States are five
in number. They are: —
The Massachusetts-Rhode Island area, comprising approxi-
mately 500 Fquare miles:
The AUpghauy area, about 59,000 square miles;
The Michigan area, about 6,700 square miles;
The Illinoi.s. Indiana and West Kentucky area, about 47,000
•quare miles; and
The Iowa. Missouri. Kansas, Arkansas and Texas area, about
78.000 square mile.^;
Forminga total of about 191,200 square miles, underlaid by coal-
beariug strata, of which not over 120,000 square miles contain
workal)le coal-beds.
Two general classes of coal are recognized, viz.. anthracite and
bituminous, the latter being often subdivided into bituminous and
fiemi bituminous coal.
Antiiraciteforms the whole of the coal found in the Massachu-
eetts-Khode Island area and in that portion of Pennsylvania occur-
ring in the neighborhood of PottsvilK'. Mahanoy City, Shamokin.
Hazleton, Mauch Chunk, Wilkes-Barre and Scranton. It also
occurs to a limited extent in Virginia.
Bituminous coal occupies the rest of the districts just named.
A glance on a map of thr coal-fields shows how unequally the
coal areas are distributed over the United .States. M hile New
England and the s-mboard .\tlantic States contain prai-lieallv no
coal, the greatest development of the workable coal strata is in
the Alleghany mountains and to the west of them, extending from
Pennsylvania and Ohio in an unbroken line to Alabama.
Next to the one ju'^t menfiotied the Tuost important fi'-ld is the
one occurriitg in Illinois, Indiana and Western Kentucky. The
ooal area which extends from Iowa to Tex&a is of much less impor-
tance and extent, and the Michigan coal-field has sc\rcely been
opened.
Different TheMassachusetts-Rhode Island Arba.— The coal isconfiBed
0o»l fields, to eastern Rhode Island and Bristol and Plymouth counties in
Massachusetts At present the only mine worked is at Ports-
mouth. Rhode Island, where E one of the three beds found, is being
exploited. The coal-bed.-^ in this area set-m to vary from one to thir-
teen in number, but the exploration! made in the past have been so
an'^ystf-matic and pecuniarily, ■^o unsatisfactory, that the data on
which these views are founded are nut very reliable. The char-
acter of the coal is th<' hardest kind of anthracite, often containing
■pangles and plates of graphite disseminated through it. which
characteristics are due to the highly metamorphic action it has un-
derKone. To this same action is due in a great measure the i>et'ul-
iarly folded character of the deposits, which has locally caused
expansions and contractions of the coal-beds, so that in some
pla^^-esthey are thirteen feet thick, and in others but a few inches
cueh an irregularity renders the cost of mining the coal very gre-it.
owing to the large amount of "dead work " required, and ti> this
cause may in part h<^ ascribed the slight progress which has been
made in the development of the region. The working is now con-
fined to a aioftle mine.
STATES
[coal.
The Alleghany Arka, the most important in the United Statei Allegheny
in it^ extent in the number of workable coal beds and in the qual- area.
ity i.nd variety of the coals found, is situated in Pennsylvania,
Ohio. v\ est Virginia. Virginia, eaatern Kentucky. East Tennessee
and northern Alabama. This area is divided into numerous dif-
ferent fields, more or less contiguous to one another, and of which
a bii -f mention follows:
The Anthracite Coal-Fiklds of Eastern Pennsylvania. —
The^e anthracite fields are confined to a limited area of not over
475 square miles, situated in the counties of Carbon. Schuylkill,
Northumberland, Columbia, Dauphin. Luzerne and Lackawanna.
Three districts are ci'mmonly recognized in this region, known aa
the first, second and third coal fields. The Coal Measures within
this region are nlmost unive^^ally surrounded by two mountain-
ridges, the exterior one consisting of sub-Carboniferous sandstone.
This is separated from the interior ridge by a valley, more or lese
brtiad. of easily decomposing red shale, overlying which occur*
the true conglomerate, holding in its bosom the valley? or basinf
in which the anthracite occurs. These two series of ridges were
the eflScient protectors of the coal from ihe denuding a trents. which
removed it fmm the intervening barrt--n districts, separating the
different anthracite basins from each other and from the bitumin-
ous coal-fields <<t CcnLral Pennsylvania.
North of the anthracite coal-fields proper, is the semi-anthracite Semi-fin-
of the Bornice bnsiu in Sullivan county, Pennsylvania, where the thracite
principal coal-bed, right to nine feet thick, contains eight to nine beds in
per cent, volatile matter. The coal, while classed as an anthracite, Sullivan
hieks the brilliant anthracite luster and conchoidal fracture. gen- county,
erally breaking in cubes; in consumption it closely resembles the Pcou-
semi-anthracite of Lykens Valley, in Dauphin county. The
whole of this coal is carried North and West for distribution and
consumption.
The Broad-Top-Coal-Field of Pennsylvania. — The coals of
this basin, "hich occupies about twenty-five square miles, all be*
long to the Lower Protective Coal Measures, of which more pres-
ently, with the exception of a few acres cf coal of the Pittsburgh
bed. The measures in this coal-field have been much disturbed,
80 that the relations of the strata are not fully understood, and
consequently fretiuent errors have been made in identifying the
coal in different portions of the district. There are apparently
three wnrkjible beds. The coal of this district, while actually
bitumin"us in character, is commonly called semi-bituminous on
account of the comparatively small amount of volatile m:itter it
contains, often a> low as eight per cent. At one time the mines of
this district were actively worked, the coal being used for steam-
raising and rolling mill purposes. Since the opening of the Clear-
field coal-district and the more active exploitations of the Cumber-
laud coal-beds, the mining interests of this district have lan-
guished, owing in part to an inferiority in quality of this coal to
either of the others: in part to the greater cost of extraction due
to the more disturbed condition of the strata.
The BiTUMiNors Coal-Fif.lds or Pennsylvania.— While the
bituminous coal fields of Pennsylvania are contiguous to those of
Ohio and West Virginia, the latter being actually but extensions
of the former, they are. for the sake of description, separated geo-
graphically.
In the bituminous coal area of Pennsylvania. Ohio and West
Virginia geologist.s iind engineers have recognized <1) Upper Bar-
ren Measures. (2) Tpper Productive Coal Aleasures; (3) Lower
Barren Measures: (4) Lower Productive Coal Measures; (5) Inter-
conglomerate coals
The following coal strata occur in the Upper Productive Coal
Measures, eonimencing with the upper bed : Waynesburg coal-bed,
Sewickley *^ual-bed. Redstone coal-bed, Pittsburgh coal-bed. Of
these the Pittsburgh is of far the greatest econmical value, but the
others are locally of importance.
In the Lower Barren Measures are a few beds which are most
uncertain in character and of little economical value; they are
most unreliable in chara<'ter. Jtnd while locally they thicken, foaa
to l>e of some local value, they speedily thin out again.
Below the Lower Barren Measures are found the following coal
strata, viz: Upper Freepnrt coal-bed. Lower Freeport coal-bed.
Upper Kittannintr coal-bed, Lower Kittanning coal-bed, Clarion
coal-bed and Brookville coal-bed.
Still lower, geologically, .are the coals occurring in the Great
Conglomerate, which include the Clarion group, C theQuakertown
bed of L^iwrence county, and the Sharon bed of Mercer county.
These coa's occur in six different basii.s. of which thesixth is thr
most southwesterly in position and least distinct as to its divisior
Each basin is separated from its neighbor by an anticlinal wav
or rather by a series of separate anticlinals, the ends of which f •
past each other.
Having the Alleghany mountains as an eastern barrier,
coal fields extend westwardly in a more or less unbroken succ
sion into Ohio. But ihe coal-beds are by no means equally di,
tributed over this area. As middle Pennsylvania and middU
New York were lifted, by geological action, truch higher above th'
old sea-level than southwestern Pennsylvania. Ohio and Virgini
were, the destruction of the coal measures has been greatest l
the North and Northeast. gradually diminishing toward theSouth-
west. Only the lowest, or two or three lowt-st. beds of coiil havf
been left ns isolated patchetJ on the mountain tops of Wyoming,
Sullivan. Lycoming. Clinton, Bradford. Tioga. Potter, Cameron,
McKean and Warren counties.
The great productive bituminous coal-field may be said to com-
mence in the belt of counties composed of Clearfield, Jeff<Tson,
Clarion. Venango and Mercer counties— a distance of Uii miles to
the Ohio line from the crest of the Alleghanies In the coiinties
\nf-t Tuentioned. a« well as in Cambria. Indinnn Armstrong. Butler,
Lnwrence. Beaver. Somerset (with the exeepii-.n of the Salisbury
piilch). eastern Westmoreland, and eastern F'tyette. only the
Lower Productive coal-beds, and in places the inter-conglomer-
PETROLEUM.]
UNITED STATES
811
at«ooaIshave been left, while the Upper ProductiTe Measures
have been swept away. These latter are found in u. greiit part with
all the Lower Productive Coal Measures in AHegtirt:;y. we--;tvrn
Westmoreland and western Fayette counties, wiiiie ih'- whok- of
the Upper and Lower Productive Measuie? occur in \Vil^hiIlgtou
and Greene counties. In brief, the Coal Measures are ui'tst
•rod d toward the Northeast, and are least disturbed coward the
Soutawest.
nieOhio The CoaI/-Fields of Ohio.— The Ohio c*'al tields are but the
foal Ceids. western extension of the bituminous coal rt^'yioii of Pennsylvania;
consequently, the coal-beds which are found in them are the same.
with local uiodificiitioiis. a.-' those of the latter tState. Commencing
f^t the Pennsylvania-Ohio line we find that "the.mui-^inof the coal
basin forms a tortuous line, cumiuencing in the uortliern part of
Trumbull county, passing thence southwesterly to the Mahoning
\iValley. where it is tleflected far to the southeast. West of Youngs-
I town it runs thruigh the southern township? of Trumbull county,
li where it is deflecte«i north nearly to th>i center of Lleauga county.
whereit inclos.'S a long tongue aad tivo or three small inlands of
woal. Thence returning into I'ortage.it passes southeasterly through
^he southern part of t^ummit. whereit is deflt-cted to the north-
twest- From here it runs southwesterly again to the southwest
^corner of Holmes. Thence it p^sse^ nearly southward along the
western margin of Holmes and Cos'iocton; thence southwesterly
through the eastern purt of Lit^kuig. From here its course for
fifrv miles is nearly south lo the center of Hocking, where it turns
plightly westward, and i>asses through Vinton. Jackson. Pike and
6ei -to to the Ohio, wh-re it emsses'' Into Kentucky. The counties
m r.^ or less und M-laid bv coal in Ohio are Mahoning. Columbiana,
Portage, Stark. Holmes. Carroll. Tuscarawa.s,Jeffcr.son. Harrison,
Belmont, (iucru-ey. Coshocton. Musking-im. i'erry, Ts'oble,
Mor^'an, Wa-hingtou. Monroe. Meigs, Athens, Jackson, Gallia,
Lawrence, Trumbull, Summit, Medina. W'ayne. Licking. Hock-
ing. Pike and Scioto
Virginiin The Coal-Fi i.ds hf West Virginia and Virginia.— No State
e»-»a! fields, in th** Union surpa^tses West Virginia in the variety of coals it
contains, nor do"s any contain an equal amount in proportion to
its area; for, of the fifty-four counties in the State, but six are
entirely destitute of this important fuel. In many of them, how-
ever, the coal is so deeply buried, and in others the means of
transportation are so inad quate, that it will be many years be
fore the mineral weahh they contain will even commence to bo
developed. In Virginia, on the other han-l. tliere are but six
counties which contain coal of Carbonileroiis age. andthey are in
the extreme southwestern corner of the State, adjoining West
Virdnia and Kentucky. The coal-field of West Virginia and
Virginia is but an extension of the Appalachian coal field from
Pennsylvania. Maryland and Ohio, and the general >ystein of the
measures, is the same, with the exception that locally st>me of the
coal-beds in the Great Conglomerate are of a sufficient thickness to
be profitably worked.
Warrland The Marti. and Coal-Fikld. better known as toe Cumberland
• lal ield. coal-basin, is but a prolongation of the Potomac basin mentioned
under West Virginia. This coal-field is one of the most important
in the United States, due to the thickness of the main bed. its
good quality, and the large annua! production. The coal is most
extensively used for rolling-mill and steam-raising purpose-, its
chief and only competitor among the bituminous coals being that
from the Clearfield region of Pennsylvania. This coal-field is an
outlyer of the main Alleghany coal area, of which there
are several others in Pennsylvania, such as the Broad-Top,
Snowshoe. Ralston and Blossburg basins. The coal is semi-bitura-
Inoug in character, and does not coke quite so readily as those
which contain more gas.
The Eastern Kentucky Coal-Field is but a continuation of
that described in Ohio and West Virginia, The western bound-
ary of the Alleghany coal area in Kentucky is approximately as
follows, in a north-south direction: Starting at the Ohio
river near Tygart's creek, the line runs through Greenup, Carter,
Rowan, Morgan, Powell, Estill, Jackson, Laurel. Pulaski. Wayne
and Clinton counties to the Tennessee line. _ Thi-; coal field under-
lies the whole of fifteen counties and a portion of five others, con-
taining 8.983 square miles. The boundary line is very crooked,
throwing off numerous spurs, extending west of the line men-
tioned.
The Tennessee Coal-Field is but a prolongation southward
of the eastern Kentucky field. Its area is co-extensive with that
of the Cumberland mountain or table-land. The Cumberland
mountain crosses Tennessee obliquely, and although much in-
dented by valleys and coves, is nowhere completely cut in two
by them. The eastern border of this table-land is comparatively
f S nearly direct or gracefully curving line, the indentations made
. by the streams on this side being scnircely noticeable. It is very
irregular, however, along its western border, being cut out ana
notched by deep valleys antl coves, separated from each other by
long spurs jutting to the West. These d^^ep indentations give the
' western outline a very ragged appearanep. Along the Kentucky
. line the coal field is about seventy miles wide, while it narrows
' along the Alabama line to fifty mih^s.
The (teorgia Coal-Field.— Tho Tennessee coal-field west of the
Sequatchie valley extends over the border into Alabama, and
then soon dies fiut. That on the eastern side of the valley, on the
contrary, extends through Dade, Walker and Chattoogii counti-s
in Georgia into Alabama. Almost the whole of the former is
nnderlaid by an excellent quality of bituminous coal, while there
is not quite such an extent of it in the other two counties.
The Alabama Coal Region is an extension southward nf the
Georgia into northern Alabama. It is divided into three fields,
thf Hhiek Warrior, theCahaba and the Coosa. Of these three the
first is much the lurgest.
The Illinois, Indiana and West Kentucky Arka --The coal
measures of this portion of the United States form bat •!!•
area.
The Indiana Coai^Field.— The Carboniferous Measures occur
in the counties of Possey, Vanderburgh, Warwick, Spencer, Perry»
Crawford, Gibson, Pike. Dubois, Knox. Daviess, Martin, Sullivan^
Greene, Clay. Owen, Vigo, Parke. Veimitlion, Fountain and War-
ren, oi. in other words, in the southwet^tern part of the Stat«.
There are three beds of coking coal in this field, varying from
four and a half to ten feet in thickness, and three seams of open-
burning or splint coals that range from two and a halt to five feet
in (hickness, the average thickness being four feet. One bed of
cannel coal occurs in Daviess county, about four and a half feet
thick. The principal coals mined with this exception are th©
block coals from Clay county.
fetboleum.
Petroleuni has been known to exist in this country almost from
its first settlement. The records of travels, especially through the
region west of the Appalachian chain, in what was then known aa
the Creat Ohio Valley, contain constant evidences of the existence
of this material in the reports of burning springs and the oil that
accompanied them.
It was not, however, until 1859, at the time of the drilling of
Drake's first well, that it began to assume any commercial impor-
tance. The excitement attending the discoveries in the Pennsyl-
Tania oil field led to explorations in many States, and developed
the fact that petroleum existed in many localiiies, These locali-
ties are chiefly on the west'rn slopes of the Appalachian chain,
reaching from Petrolea in Ontario to just across the Tennessee
State line in Alabama. Some quite extensive fields are also found
in California and in Wyoming, and later evidences of the exist-
ence of oil have been discovered in other States, but the Appala-
chian and the California oil fields are at present the only ones of
commercial imporiance.
The most importnniof these fields are what are described fur-
ther on ns the Pennsylvania and New York oil fields. Next ia
importance to these is the Macksburg field in Ohio, near Marietta^
the third in importance being the California field. West Virginia
produces some small amounts of heavy oil for lubricating purposes,
its light oil having been comparatively exhausted some years since.
There are also oil (ields that with better facilities for transporta-
tion might be of imporiance in both Tennessee and Kentucky.
Thf^ Wyoming oil fields described farther on in this report are also
ot importance in the amount of petroleum that can some day b«
made available; but of this field, as of all others outside of th»
Peniisyhania and Macksburg regions, with the exception of Cali-
fornia, it will be fiiund that the expense of producing and trans-
porting the oil to market will eflFectually prevent any great pro-
duction in these fidds until the price of Pennsylvania petroleum
shall materially advance.
_ In the following table will be found a consolidation of the statis*
tics of the production of petroleum in the various fields of th»
country, so far as the same could be obtained from the beeizminff
of operations in these fields:—
g
3
^ g s ^ ^ e? = s ■? t- "^ "^ ■5- 5? ^ trt 'f ® sg
C:_ C ^ '4. n — . ' -. '~ ^. ■- -. i^. ^ ^ ?^ S u? X C?
N 0 CO <o r— ' -x^ -■ 1 ~ 1- ~ -r^ '' c u^' evf c^" ec' ci M 0"
0 ^ ^. CO — -T . C :^ -i C-J M OJ CJ QO 0: rH ^ rf
=^ « diM c4 rt CO M '.f »o ift to o> 0 cioi CO
5
O
c3
CO
O
X
m
Eg
i M M M M M N N iisi
u^o^^^
t— -Hi— (
^6 ©
111
O
n
I -S
6
o
::::::::::::;:; ^SSS
; ; ct^oo
i i ; : M N i M M M ''^^^
II
>
\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ ;ii§
::::::::::::::: .oo^"
cr<Nt~
6
o
z
o
e
a
c
c
0-*
8SgSSg§S£ts;5,aSg£p:ieS
c^«c^e^'c^eorccc--^o«5tD3i"c:'ooacco
ooarccaoccocxocacaowocacx'oocoacocao
812
UNITED STATES
[natural gab.
• •mnsyl-
"Tania aiid
l^ew York
ralifomia
-fields.
AVyoming
fields.
\ViishinB-'
t'in fields.
I
- ?J OO Xi '^'^.'"^ ^
CD -^'O -^01-+ -^^^"0 Ol
5o Ol c5 ® O^ -# ■Tl X; ?^ C^J
lO Oi X l-^O -O^ -^ ^ CC CO
CI ic lO -o CO ic O O -* r^
CI x_ u-; aq cq CO o^ ■= 1— ^ lO
IC 3i O CTi CO c^i c4 lO ^-^ oo
1-1 1— I -T*l O) ^J -^ '.C ~ ' I — 1—
T-H r- (55 CO or CD
-or-
• OrH
I'-T-HI'CDCDCOCC'Ot— ^^
i-H ^ Oi X_ t^ CO O^O Ol O
ccoTx :oc-rt~rooMco
coc-icocvscc-rf'aiiox'— '
(DJt^O
OOO'BO'OOOOC
oooooooooc
SslSiSSk'aif
cO<T. O'-HCgro-^J'if^cDt'
l-I— 30XCOOOXiOOOOaO
XXXICCJOOOQOjCCOCC
More than 50 percent, of all the oil produced in the United
StiiU's is from the Bradford and Alleghany fields, these two dis-
trict.' being credited with 11.099,512 of the 2l.842,(t41 barreN pro-
duced in the country in 18S5. The production in the?e fields,
however, is kept up onl> by the liberal use of nitro-glycerine, and
even with the use of explosives to an extent bi'fore unknown the
production is falling off, and it is a question if the vigor of these
old fields can bo restored
From the time of the first settlement of California by the
whites there have been evidences, in the form of spring and
peepnge from the asphaltum beds, of the existence of petroleum in
the State. No attempts, however, were mnde to utilize these
deposits until the excitement following the Pennsylvania oil dis-
coveries led to pro-:p 'oting these surface deposits and the enger
jearehing for others. During the years ISfifi and 18(j6 upwards of
jeventy companies, ''jch with a large nomiriiil c;ipitnl. were ineor-
pbrnted in CaliforniT [or the purpose of searching for petroKurn.
While a majority ol these companies proc/eded no further thnn to
jrg.inize, having never expended iiny nioiiev in aetu'il operations,
30111'^ of them began ;n-tivo operati'-n-;, linking wells and driving
tunnels in their search. Most of the vvoik at this time was iu
Hu nboldt. Onliisa. Contra Costa, Santa Clara, and Los Anifeles
COM'itieS.
About 1H75 tlie oil bu7<ine-!s in California took on new life. Two
Wells put down that vnr yieldi'd some lo or 20 barrels eiicli per
div. Drilling by steam beirnn to be nmre gi-nernily used in placj
of the spring pole. In \•<7^ the Ventura nnd the Pico Canon wells
pri lueed daiiy SO and 10 hnrrpls respectively. Some 2) barrels of
refined oil wer* nade billy at the Pico refinery nt. the latter place.
Ihanextyenr >0 barrels ol ciude oil were for a number ot dnys
taken frnni the lioycrwell. in the Santa Cruz mountains, every 24
tiours. The oil liere, as in mo*t enses in California, was brought
to the surfare by pumping, no flowing welli having as yet been
struck in the State.
From this tim-^ there has been a steadily increasing output, of
oil in California
There are. as far as now known, two oil fit-Ids in thi-i State.
probabl.N originiiHy the same, but now divided by the range of
mountains in which the headwaters of the North Platte'^and
Wind rivers find their sources.
As yet no valuable deposits of petroleum or its concomitant.
nsr)lialtum. have been found anywhere in Ihe far west, except in
California, Recently i-neonraging indicntions nf mineral oil are
reported to have been met with at Puyallup, in Washington.
N/TURAL GAS.
According to Mr. Swank, natural gas was first used as a fuel in
conn^'Ction with the maiinfaeture of iron and steel at L'-echburg.
Armstrong county. Pennsvlvnnia, in 1H74. when it was taken from
aw'-ll twelve hundred fee* deep, and where ir at that time fur-
ni-h d ;ill thefuel retpiired fnrpnddling, henting.and makingsteam
«at the rolline-mill of Messrs. Rogers and Darchfield. Between
1874 and 1881 the use of natural gas was introduced at vanous
other establishments for puddling and rolling. The use of this
nt.w fuel spread so rapidly, that in 1887 there were ninety-sis roll-
ing-mills and steelworks eitner wholly or in part using natural
ga.-^; and Mr. Swank states ihnt at the present time nearlj one-
fourth of all the establishments of this kind in the United Statef
are thus supplied with fuel. The territory in which are located
iron and steel works using natural gas extends as far eastal
.lohnstown, sevenfy-uine miles cast of Pittsburg. Some gas isuseQ
iu Ohio, piped from wells in the adjacent region of Pennsylvania
and some is also obtained from local wells. Pennsylvania gas it
!il-o used (0 a limited extent in "West Virginia. Natural gas ha|
nl-'O been obtained at various localities in Indiana.
•According to Mr Ashburner.of the Pennsylvania Surrey, thel^
were, in 1885, no le?s than 1,500 dwellings, OOglass factories, 34 rolt
ing-mjlls, and 45 otlier industrial establishments supplied with
natural gis in the city of Pittsburg alone; and this was estimated
as representing or displacing an amount of coal equal to ten
thonsand tons a day. In the following table is given the amount and
value of the coal disjilMced by natural gas throughout thecountry,
as nearly as it could be estimated, for the years 1885-87:—
Amount. Value.
1885 2,796.0(!0 tons. $4,857,200
1886 5,761.000 '* 10.012,000
1887 8.80U.000 ** 15,838.500
Tho rapid increase in the amount of natural gas consumed during
the ,.ist few years is c:isily seen in the above table. The surpass-
ing importance of Pennsylvania in general, and of the Pittsburjf
District in particular, as eonsumers of this kind of fuel, and the
progress which has been made in other States in the development
of this branch of industry^ may be seen in the following table, in
which the detailed statistics for the year 1887 are given:—
Amount of Coal Dispi.ACEn by Natttral Gas.
Locality.
Coal Displaced.
Value.
rennsylvania:
Alleghany County
Remainder of Pittsburg Dis-
trict
4,890,000 tons.
1.437.90O ■•
1.603.100 •'
7.931,000 tons.
94.600 ••
44ti,oni) ••
S3.. wo ••
2iW,0ii
2.500 "
4.460 '•
4,460 •■
$6,846,250
2,415,750
Western Pennsylviiniii (out-
side) of Pittrbure District
4.4S7.50O
Total Pennsylvania.
$13,749,500
.?33.000
Ohio
1.(11 .0,1X10
12(1,000
600,000
6.000
1.^.000
15,000
Total
8,304,520 tons.
$15,833,500
The dcvelopraent of the iron and steel busine.^s in the ITnited I.on "ud
States during the last half century has been as rnpid as that of eteel.
the mining of coal. In 1850 tho total productiim of iron through-
out the world was about six million tons, of which fully half was
to be credited to Great Britain; that of the United States was
about one million tons, or one-si.\th of the whole amount. In the
years from 1881 to 1887 the total production of pig-iron (hroiighout
the world varied between nineteen and twenty-two millions of
tons, averaging a little over twenty millions, of which about four-
fifths were due to England, the United States and Germany. Id
the last fifieen years the proportional production of England has
g.-adually declined; for the five years ending 188,5 it was very
nearly five-twelfths, and in 1887 a very little over one-third of th«
total. Enghind and the United States together made in 1887 vor/
neiirly five-eighths of the total. . ■ j .^
In regard to the geogr.aphical distribution of special produOf
the Special Agent of the Census of 1880 in charge of this depoif
ment— Mr. J.M. Swank— makes the following statement:
" A glance at the statistics for 1880 shows that New Englaa
now makes but little pig-iron, and that the South makes considei
able pig-iron and scarcely any rolled iron: that the West ha)
largely embarked in the manufactureof steel by the Besscmerpro
cess, while \ew York cannot boast of a single Bessemer estiiblisl*^
ment, but has preferred the open-hearth process; that New Yorl3
makes most of the blooms that are made from ore, and Pennsyl-
vania most of (he blooms that are made from pig and scrap-iron ;
th.Tt Michigiu isthe lending producer of charcoal pig-iron, and
now makes no other kind; that West Virginia has developed a re-
markably active interest in the manufacture of cut nails; that
duly five States make Bessemer s'eel: and two States, Pennsyl-
vania and New Jersey, make nearly all of our crucible steel; and
that Pennsylvania has made a greater effort than any other Stat«
to manufacture all kinds of iron and steel."
At the close of the year 18^7 there were (iH blast furnaces, then
either completed or building (not counting any of which had been
»,bajidonedJ. in the United States, and they were thus distributed:
Blast
furoaces.
L-sseuier
'^teel.
N-.4TURAL GAS.] UNITED
DivisiOD. Subdivision. Number. Total.
r North .\tlantip 315
Atlaktic \ Middle Atlantic 54
Itfcuih .Atlantic 6
I \orthea-tern Central.. 147
^ J Xortliwestirn Central.. 13
<.K>TEAL 1 Southeastern Central.. 71
ISoutbwejtera Central.. 2
233
[Rocky Mountain 2
CoEDILLKBAN-; Plateau 0
IPacificCoast 3
Total 8 613
Of the 613 bla^t furnaces, 243 were in Pennsylvania. Ohio com-
ing uext ill order with seventy-eight In the Northern Mates
there were 459; in the Southern 154, of which fort.v-four were m
.\lab;ima (twentv-fuur .ompleted and twenty building). Of 414
iron and steel rolling mills, 169 were in Pennsylvania. Ohio coming
ueit with fiftv fi>e. Of Bessemer and Clapps-Griffiths steel
works there were lortv three, of which nineteen were in I'eunsyl-
vaiiia and six in th-- Southern States. Of open-hearth steelworks
there were fifty, of which twenty-seven were in Pennsylvania and
two in the Southern States. Of crucible steel works there were
forty-one, of which twenty-one were in Pennsylvania, and two in
the Southern States. .
The production ot pig in.n and of Bessemer steel ingots and
rai's in the United Writes .■^ince 18^0 is stated in the following
iabl ■. compiled tr.m the statistics collected by tMe American iron
and S eel Association:
1S31. 18S2. 18S3. 18S4.
pi».;ron 4.Ut.2">3 ..4,625.323 ..4,.59.,510.. 4,(.97.8<)8
Bess -m.-r steel ingots. 1,374.247. . .I,5!4,b87. . .1,477,34.5. . .1,375.317
Be-sm.T steel rails . l,187,7o9. ..l,284,06i. ..I,148,7t9. . . 996.4c5
1S85. 1886. 1887.
Pi--iron 4,044,526... 5,683.329... 6,417.148
B sseuer steel ingots 1.519.4i6. . .2,2«>9.I9U.. .2,39ti,0.53
B--s:'eiuer steel rails 959,470. . .l..'«2,409. . .2,101,903
From the above table it will be seen that 18S2 and 1SS3 were
vears of large proluoiion. b -ih of iion und steel: that in 1884 and
188-5, there was a const lerablo falling off in the amount ot pig-iron
made, while the produ'-ti'in of steel retnained nearly the same:
nod it will also be noticed that in 1S86 there wasalarg>incre^e in
both iron and steel, which increase was continued in 1887— the
production of the hitter ye.nr being more than a million and a half
of tons greater than it \\ .a.s in 1884. Theincrease-Huse of Bessemer
steel f"r purposes other than thf ra-inufacture of rails is also
clearly incioated in the following tabl-j: —
1882. 1883. 1884.
Production of Bessemer steel 1,514,687. . .1 ,477345. . .1,375,317
Percentage used in rails 85 78 72
1885 I8S6. 1887.
Production of Bessemer steel 1,519.426. . .2,2o9,190. . .2.936,03.^
Percentage used in rails 63 78 72
The production of Bessemer steel was forty-nine per cent,
larg -r in 1-S86 than it was in 1-S85, and 29 per cent, l.-irger in 1887
than in 1886. The total number of completed Bessemer steel
works in the United States at the close of 1886 was thirty-
three, with sixty-nine converters Pennsylvania in that year
made fifty-nine percent, of the ingots produced: Illinois, 21; and
other States, 20.
The rapid growth and present importance of the steel industry
in the United Slates will be appreciated on examination of thefol-
lowing table, in which the amount of steel of all kinds, produced
is given for each fifth year from 1870 on, an also for the years 1886
and 1887, in tons:
STATES
813
Tear.
>1870.
1875.
18S0.
■ 1885.
1 1886
1887
Bessemer
■teel ingots.
37,500
335.283
1.<'74.2H1
1.519 430
2,269.191
2,930,033
Open-hearth
steel ingots.
1.339
8.0S0
]Uli,S50
133.375
218.973
322,069
Crucible
steel ingots.
All other
steel.
35,179
64.664
,57..5>9
71.972
75,j76
31.2=X)
11,256
7. .5.58
1.514
2.366
5.593
Tear. Total.
1870 70 . 089
1875 .389.799
1880 1,247.334
188.5 I,7ll.!ii9
1886 2,562.502
1887 3,33ii.U7l
Proauetion '^'be production of rails of all kindsin the United States is gi,'en
of rails i^ the foUuwine table for the year 1867. in which the manufacture
of Bessemer steel rails began, and also for 1870 and for each sno-
ceeding fifth year, as well as for the years 1886 and 1887:
Year.
Bessemer
steel rails.
Open-hearth
steel rails.
Total
steel rails.
Iron rails,
all kinds.
1867
2.277
30,357
2.59,699
852,196
9.59,471
1,. 574 .71 13
2,101,903
2,277
.311.357
2=.9.6""
S64.S
963,7t,j
1,. 579.394
2.119,048
410,319
1870
52:5.2:-;
1875
447,900
188(1 ....
1S85
1886
1887
12,1,56
4.279
4,W1
17,145
440,858
13.227
21.1-12
20,591
-- Total iron
^®^'^- and steel.
1S67 412..596
1670 553.171
1875 707,61.0
1880 1,3('5.211
1S85 976.977
1886 1,600,536
1887 2,139,639
The ores of iron are widely disseminated over the United States General
and are uf ery different qualities: but there are certain regions survey of
of greatly predominating iiiii>i.irtance, and certain geohigical hori- various
zons or lormations from >\h:i ii much the larger portion of these kinds of
ores is derived. To each of thc^e a tew words of description may iron ore.
be devoted.
The great coal field of the Central United States is surrounded
tn the north, east and south by the uplifted older rocks of the
A\ isconsin— Michigan, the .\ppalitoliian and the Ozark regions.
This ba^in and its border contain the fuel and the ore on which
and with which ihe material prosperity of the United States of the
twentieth century must be built. It becomes, therefore, of impor-
tance to obtain a general survey of the distribution of the various
kinds of iron ore both geographically and in the geological
column.
On the extreme edge of the border that incloses the coal basin
we find in the north and east the .\rcha;fln with its immense de-
velopment of magni tie and tpecular ores. Next within this and
overlying it is the Canadian-Cambrian series, the substrueturo
of the first great loigitudiiial valley of the .-ippolachians extending
from Canada to Alabama. This valley is not less remarkable for its
enormous wealth in limonite ores than for the fertility and dura-
bilitv of its soil, t-till farther inward the shales of the Cl.nton
age mark a belt of hematite ore extending from central Alabama
to and through ea- tern New York, and thence westward across tho
State. The belt thus outlined will be seen, on the map, to have a
breadth of from fifty to over one hundred miles. Within it. but
less persistent in longitudinal representation, are deposits of iron
ores occurring— some here, some there — in strata of almost every
age tromthe .^rcha!:iii totheCoal Measures, andthe great coal-field
thus iron-bound, i> itself rich in carbonate ores, generally occurring
either a.s chiy iro'n ston*-. or as black band, or in places as a ferri-
ferous limestone altered to limonite. The map does not attempt
to represent the actual distribution of the ores of the Coal Meas-
ures, but "uly the areas within which they were sampled for tfa's
investigation. , , , -
On th- South the .Arebfean rocks come to the surface only in
eastern .Missouri, and the> here exhibit a great developmeM of
magnetic and specular ores. But they occupy only n small are:i in
thr broad iron-bearing belt on the man that stretches with a
breiidthof one hundred miles or mere northwesleily from Alabama
to western .Missouri. With the exception of the Missouri .Archaean
ores this bell consists wholly of later ores, viz: specular and Imn -
nite ores of th» Cambruin in Missouri, and linionites on the Sub-
carboniferous limestones of Missouri. Tennessee and Kentucky.
On the North, far removed from the eo:il-field. are the extersive
and numerous d< posits of rich sp'cular and mugnelie oris of the
Huronian in northern Minne.-o'a andnorthern Michigan. Faither
eastward the nortberii Imrder is represented beyond our field of
investigation by ores of different kinds, but especially .Archaean in
that part of the territory of the Dominio;: of Canada lying north
of the great lakes. j - ,,
Iron in various niin-ral conditions, ard esptcially as an oxide,
is among the most widely di^semirated ot the elements. It is a
base with a strong aflinity for the acids most fn quent in the
waters circulating in thcupper crust of the earth, viz: carbonic, sul-
phuric and the organic acids. It also has a stronger aflinitv for
oxygen, and in the presence of this it forms the nearly indestruct-
ible ami -in the ordinary processes of Nature— in the absence of
organic matter, almost in-oluable sef^uioiide. As a sesquioxide,
in the presence of organic matter it provides the oxygcu fbr
decay, and its residuary r-rofoxida is itself dissolved by the result-
ing 01 gallic HciJ. and enters into circulation. If the laboratory ig
a marsh or cond, the iron protosalt is reoxidized at the surface rf
the watcfand returns to the bottorn os the higher oxide to again
part with part of its oxygen and again Co be dissolved as a protosalt.
and this is continued until the organic mstter is con.sumed: then
tho ircn accumulates on the bottcm as a hydrated oxide, or limo-
nite, or " bog-ore." . ,,.„,. ..
Rock strata containing organic matter and diffused iron oxide
have lived through similar processes, except that the inn alter
furnishing its oxygen to the decaying tnalter and forming u solu-
814
UNITED STATES
[STATISTICB.
/,A iiiTican
iiiijiorts of
iron and
, steel.
able protosalt with the resulting orgauic acid, has entered into
more extended circulation.
The most common solvents of iron in Niiture are carbonic acid
and sulphuric acid; the latter bicumes nn important agent in
moving and coneentrnting iron, under certain circumstances, as in
solfatnric action and in the oxidiition of pyritit'erous rocks like
the Devonian shales of Pennsylvania and Virginia. But doubtlesa
carbonic acid is the most general agent. Besidt-s arising from the
oxidation of organic matter contined in sedimentary strata, it
enters the earth us an accessory of rain water, and more is taken
up by the Wiitt-r from the decaying vegetable mould; it is also lib-
crated in depth from limestone by the action of chemical processes
and enters the ascending eurrenta. However formed, it becomes
an accessory constituent oi the water that permeates the rocks,
and alone, or in connection with other agents, it decomposes the
silicates and carries off the iron as a bicarbonate. It follows the
■channels of tiow until it reaches an arresting cause. One such
arresting cause, of ultimately great economic importance, is the
carbonate of line in limestones and dolomites and calcareous sand-
Btones, resulting in the replacement of lime by iron; another of
equal importance is oxygen, whether at the surface, where the
foluable iron protor^alt, emerging in spring water is oxidized to a
limonite, or in caverns or small cavities, where it is oxidized, and,
parting with its acid, iw deposited in successive thin films to form
staluclitic and mammiUary masses of hydrated sesquioxide; there-
fore when we -consider the general diffusion of iron in both de-
trital and crystalline rocks, in all sediments and all eruptions, nnd
remarkable reciprocating relation in the most common and essen-
tiiil processes of Nature, it is not strange that we should find
it represented by local accumulations in the rocks of every geo-
logical age.
The annexed table, publi^hed by Mr. Swank, shows the pro-
duction of iron ore in tons in the leading ore-producing districts
for the years 18S(j. 18h7: —
1886. 1887.
Lake Superior mines of Michigan and Wis-
consin 3.2&S.961 4.344.651
Termilion Lake mines of Minnesota 3U4.396 394,2o2
Missouri mines 379.776 427,785
Cornwall, Pennsylvania 688,064 667.210
New Jersey mines 500,501 547.889
Chateaugav mines. New York 214.800 219.390
Crown Point mines. New York 60.084 64.940
Port Henry mines. New York 298.8(58 428.522
Other Lake Champlain mines. New York.. . 15.000 29,000
Hudson River Ore and Iron Company. New
York 75,000 142,422
Tillv Foster mines. New York 17,728 14.316
Forest of Dean mines. New York 18.000 21.164
Salisbury region. Connecticut 36,000 30,000
Cranberry mines, North Carolina 24,106 45,032
Tennessee Coal and Iron and Railroad Com-
pany's mines 81,650 102.601
Ohio (whole State) 344,484 377.465
Alleghany County, Virginia 150,000
Preston County. West Virginia 15,408
Calhoun, Etowah, and Shelby counties,
Alabama 129.000
Total of the above districts 6.322.408 8,151.047
American Imports of Iron and Steel.— It' has been suffi-
ciently shown that this country is a large producer of iron and
steel. The statistics of our production of these articles f^o not,
however, show the magnitude of their consumption byou^ f.eople.
We export only very small quantities of iron and steel, principally
in the form of machinery, but have been large importers of iron
and steel in all forms, which we have consumed in addition to
the large quantities we have ourselves produced. Our imports of
iron and steel during the Inst fifteen calendar years have been as
follows. The quantities of pig, bar, band, plate, and sheet iron.
rails, old iron, and tin plates, are given for every year mentioned
and for 1882 and succeeding years the quantities of other iron and
Bteel which could not be obtained for preceding years are added;
<JoM and
;«ilver.
Years.
Long tons.
Years.
Long tons.
1871
1.141.933
1,183,066
fi4().8i8
3ni,R47
239 712
2114 211
211,408
211.102
1879
769.984
1872
1880
1,886.919
1873
1881
1.180.749
1874
1882
1,192.206
1875
18S3
694.330
187«
18S4
6.'i4.696
1877
1885
578,478
1878
The production of gold in the Southern States rose to nearly a
million of dollars a year in a few years after ihe first mining ex-
citement began in that region. This whs in 1*^3! and 18:i4. Then
there was a falling off to about Imlf that; but from 1842 on. until
the time of the discovery of gold in Cnlifornia by th'^ Americans,
there v;a8 a rise in the product of the Southern Appa' -.chian region,
to nearly a million a year (1842-48).
The discoveries of the precious metal in California have already
been noticed. By the end of the year at the beginning of which
the first nugget of gold had been picked up in Sutter's mill-rnce
■jn the American River (184S). miners were at work along the
western slope of the Sierra Nevada from the Tuolumne to Feather
River, a distance of full a hundred and fifty miles. There are
supposed to have been not less than fifty thousand men mininfff
for gold at the close of the year 1850; and those who had goodf
opportunity for observing estimate the number thus engaged
during the yeurs 1852 and 1S53 at not less than one hundred tnous-j
and. At first some assistance waf- had from the aboriginal popula-'
tion; but in general there was no hired help, each man working
for himself, or a small number of persons owned the same claimj
and mined together as joint partners. "Ihe earliest washings
were along the rivers, on the *'bars," or gravel accumulations
along the sides or on the beds of the streams, and in the "gulches/'
or ravines leading down the steep sides of the valleys, or canons,
through whicii these rivers flow. Soon the rivers themselves were
partially turned from their courses by means of wing-dams, or
entirely carried to one side of their natural channels by "flum-
ing," or building artificial channels of timber. The eauds and
gravels thus exposed were the most productive "placers"; and •
those who first go' hold of the rich bars on the American, Yuba,
Feather, Stanislaus, and other smaller streams In the heart of
the gold region made sometimes from one to five thousand dol-
lars a day per man. These very rich spots were, however,
soon worked out, and it might be days or weeks before another of
equal richness was found. From the spring of 1848 to 1851 nearly
all the mining was of the character thus indicated, that in the
river-beds being called "wet-diggings," nnd that in the ravines or
gulches adjacent to the rivers "dry-diggings."
The yield of gold in California during the ten years of its great- Yield of
est productiveness— namely, from 1850 to 1n59 inclusive— has been gold in
estimated as averiiging as high as 58^ millions of dollars a year. California,
During the pentad, 1860-64. there was a rnpid falling off in the
yield, which may be accounted for not only by the approaching
exhaustion of the river diggings, but also by the fact that the dis-
covery of the Comstock Lode turned ilie attention of the miners
in the direction of Nevada, whither great numbers of stamp-mills
were tninsported bodily in the course of the years 1861 and 1862,
these mills being such as had been worked in California with little
or no profit to the owners.
From 1865 on. the gold mining business in California assumed
a certain degree of permanence; at least, the yield of the precious
metal became, for a number of ywirs, pretty nearly stationary,
never falling below fifteen millions, nor rising quite as high as
twenty millions; the average for the fifteen years, 1865-79, being
about seventeen millions. The figures for the years 1881-87, aa
given in the reports of the Director of the Mint, are as follows:-^
1881 $18,200,000
1882 : 16.^^00.0(10
1883 14.1 20,000
1884 13.600.1100
1885 12.700.000
1886 14.725,000
1887 13 400,000
The most powerful impulse to mining operations, and tha^Bl
mediate cause of a somewhat lengthy period of wild eseittiwuV
and speculation, was the discovery and succe.'-sful opening of "tfee
so-called Comstock Lode— a metalliferous deposit, which, con&ict
ering all the circumstances and conditions connected with it,D^aS
be truthfully said to bn the most interesting one ever discovei ^4
The conditions which have given this lode its preeminence HaQI
the great extent an<l depth of its workings; the rapidity with
which they have been carried on ; the large amount of the precious
metals produced; the extraordinary temperature encountered;
and. finally, the very full record which has been kept of the facta
observed.
The Comstock Lode lies on the east slope of the Virginia Range, The Com-
a northeasterly offshoot from the range of the Sierra Nevada. The stock
region is a desert, supporting scarcely any vegetation besides the Lode.
sage brush. Potable water is found only in quantities too small to
supply a settlement, and the town now depends for its supply on
a point in the Sierra Nevada, thirty miles away. The mines were
first opened in this inhospitable region in 1859. but have since
been pushed with such vigor that their product is supposed seri-
ously to have effected tho silver market of the world. They have
produced aliout «315.0(Hi.0i 0 worth of bullion, of which 8176.000,000
was silver 'at the rate of one ounce equals $1.2929). Of the totat
yield. 8115.871,0(10 has been disbursed in dividends.
The last great ore body discovered yielded Slll.707,609.39, ol
which 574. 2-50. iiOO was paid in dividends. The number of men em-
ployed in the mines ou June 1. IS^O. was 2,770. and the sum an*
nually disbursed in wages is now S4,55i',00fi. The aggregate hers©
power of tho machinery of the mines is 24.130. The total lengtl
of shafts aTid galb'ries exceeds 150 miles, and the greatest deptt
reached is above 3,IK)0 feet.
The gold regions of the United States are divided into three spo
tions, the Pacific, Rocky Mountain and Eastern- These thrw
great divisions will be taken up and treated in order.
STATISTICS OF THE PACIFIC DIVISION.
In production of gold California still holds the first place. The California,
vast deposits of auriferous gravel continue to yield largely, though
their final exhaustion in .iew of the enormous hydraulic opera-
tionsnow being prosecuted, is to be looked for at no distant day.
Pervious to tho discovery of the Bodie district the placer mines
furnished more than two-thirds of the total gold output of tho
State; but the large yield of that district, amounting to over two
and three-quarter niillions in gold during the years in addition to
the considerable silver product, has plad'd the deep mines about
on a par with the placers in point of productiveness.
California furnishes 71.47 per cent, of the tot jil placer product of
the United States, and 40.09 percent, of the total gold product' of
the deep mines, or 51.38 per cent, of the gold product of
the country (from all sources).
The production of this State shows a considerable decline, as Nevi.ii..
compared with that of the preceding six years. This is not due to
STATISTICS.]
UNITED STATES
81$
''rei-
"Washing-
ton.
A laska.
<Jjlorado.
Dakota,
MoDtana.
New Mex-
ico.
Wyoming,
any general falling off in the prosperity of the mining industry
of the State, but to the decrease in the yield of the leading
eource, the Com^stock Li'de.
The bullion product of Nevada represents an average of 544 16
gold. $112.29 silver, and $100.45 gold and silver for each square
mite of its area. In this respect Nevada is surpassed by Colorado,
the figures for which are S2o.98 gold, $159.22 silver, and S1S5.20
total.
The bullion product of Utah is remarkably steady, varying lat-
terly but little from year to year, while a marked impulse has
been given to the mining industry of Arizona by the fine showing
of the new Tombstune district, in Pima county.
The deposits -f Idaho bullion isotaras it is possible to segre-
rate them, a very large portion having passed through private re-
fineries and thus losii g sheir identity) up to the close of the fiscal
rearending June ;Sit. IsSU, are stated by the director of the mint
to have been S24.137.417 gold, ^7-7.l:y6 silvt- r. and S24.864.713 total,
this amount is far less than the actual output up to that date,
ragae unofficial estimates placing the total yield as high as
teo.ooo.tioo.
Of the gold product for the census year 1880, 59.42 percent, is
from placers and 40.58 per cent from the deep mines. Idaho fur-
nishes 7.32 per cent, of the placer output of the United States, 2 IS
j>er cent, of the deep mine gold, and 4.43 per cent, of the total gold;
IJSper cent.of the ."ilver, and 2. 0") percent, of the entire pruiluct
of the prt cious metal's in the whole country. As a gold producer
the territory ranss sixth, and in silver.^ seventh. The average
field per square mile is S17.45 gold, ^^.30 silver, and S22. 75 total. In
this respect Idaho stands fifth in point of gold, seventh in silver,
and sixth in developed richness in gold and silver.
Oregon is one of the oldest of the western mining States, the
discovery of gold within its limits having followed closely upon
that in Calitornia. Its output has never been very large in com-
parison with the yield of its neighbor State, but although the
mines have become secondary to its agricultural resources in point
of importance, th^y still furnish occupation and profit to many of
its inhabitants. The quartz veins of Baker county, in the eastern
portion of the State, adjoining Idaho Territory, continue to yield
the larger portion of the total deep mine product of this State.
The prevailing type of the Oregon ores is a free gold quartz,
though rebellious gold ores, requiring special treatment, are found
in some localities, and a small amount of silver is produced in
Grant county.
Of the smsill product reported from the deep mines of AVashing-
ton, nearly the whole comes from Peshaston district, in Yakima
county, where gold quartz mining is conducted on a small scale.
The Upper Columbia placers furnish over one-half the total
plncer yield of the State-
This vast territory, occupying an area of over half a million
square miles, is for the most part still an unexplored region. The
small amount of prospecting which has been done has developed
the fact that Alaska contains many gold-bearing localities, none
of which however, have yet yielded any considerable output.
STATISTICS OP THE DIVISION OF THE HOCKY M0DSTAIN3.
From an average annual production of only three or four mil-
lions, Colorado has suddenly risen to the first rank as a pro-
ducer of the precious metals among the States and Territories for
gold and silver combined, as well as for silver alone, while for gold
it holds the f- urth rank. _ In the relation of production to area it
boId8thefirstriinklikewi.se for gold and silver combined, and for
silver alone, and the third for gold alone. In the relation
of production to population, however, it ranks only third for
gold and silver together, second for silver alone, and sixth for
gold alone. The total value of its product during the census year
in gold and silver was. in round numbers, nineteen and a quarter
miUi-^n dollars ; and. if we add to this the value of lead and copper
in crude metal produced, we have a total value of metallic product
of twenty-two and three-quarters million dollars.
The metallicp^odnction of Dakota is derived from the region of
the Black Hill.-;, and in greater part from Lawrence county, where
free milling gold quartE ores of low grade are reduced in amalga-
mating mills of great size.
Montana has within its boundaries the elements favorable to a
large production of the precious metals— rich and varied ores and
abundant fuel, both coal and wood. As yet, however, owing to
lack of development and want of sufficient tran?portation facili-
ties, it has not taken its proper rank as a producer.
The mines of New Mexico have been attracting much attention ;
but their practical development is awaiting the completion of the
railroads whinh are about to intersect it.
Wyoming is surrounded on three sides by important raining
regions, but has as yet developed but few mines within its
borders.
The following table shows the yield of the States of the Eastern
division, for the year 1880 : —
EASTERN DIVISION.
$1,300
81.030
3.000
$1,300
8332
7.2110
2.5,8.58
16.000
140
56
81.362
10,200
Michigan
25.858
New Hampshire
ii.ooii
118.9.5"
13.041
1.998
9,.322
27,000
119.095
South Carolina
13.097
1.998
9,322
Total
239.646
849,586
$289,232
The relative quota contributed by esch of the tliree gr^t aiW-
trary divisions into which the country has Deca apportioned ia
indicated in the following table: —
Pacific Division
Division of the Rocky
Mountains
Eastern Division
Total
825,261,828
7.878,189
239.616
$33,379,663
$21,143,881
19.917.490
49.586
S41.U0,S57
$46,405,709
27.795.679
289,232
$74,490,620
The following table shows the production of gold and silver for
each L^tate and Territory during the year 1885:—
$300,000
880.000
12.71 10.000
4.200.000
3.2110.000
136.000
1.800.000
3..3(i0.000
3.100.000
800,000
152,000
800.000
4.3.000
180.I.KI0
120,000
90.000
$2,000
3.800,000
2,500,1 00
15,800.000
100,000
"3.5()b',d6o'
10.060.000
o.ooo.oeo
3,000.000
3.01 0
10,000
8302,000
4,680,000
15,200,000
20,000,000
3,300,000
136,000
5.3OII.00O
13.3';o.000
9,1110.000
New Mexico
North Carolina
3,800,000
1,55,000
810,000
43.000
Utah
6,750.000
70,000
5,000
6.9.;0,000
Washington
Texas, Alabama, Tennessee,
Virginia. Vermont, Mich-
190,000
95.000
Total
$31,801,000
$51,600,000
883,401,000
Gold and Silver Peoddctios of tbk Different States fob
THE Year 1887.
State or Territory.
Gold.
Silver.
(Coining
value.)
Total.
Alaska
$675,000
830.000
13.400.000
i.mo.om
2.400.000
110,000
1,900,000
26,000
5,230,00(1
2,500,000
500.000
22.5.000
900,000
50.000
220.000
150.000
20.000
$300
3,800,000
1,500.000
15,0110.000
540,000
500
3,000,000
35.001J
15,500,000
4,900.000
2.300.000
5.000
10,000
.5110
7.000.010
100.000
250.500
8 675.300
4.630.000
14,900.000
19.1K 10.000
Dakota
2,940.000
110,500
4.900.000
61.000
20,730,000
7.400.000
2,800,000
230.000
910.000
5i'.500
XJtah
7.220.000
250.000,
Other States and Territories.
270,500|
$33,136,000
$53,941,800
$37,077,800
Production of Gold and Silver in the United States fob
THE Years 1880-1887.
Year.
Gold.
Silver.
Coining
Value.
Commercial
Value.
1880
1881
8r56.OOO.OOO
34.700.000
32.500.000
30.1.1 lO.OOO
30.800.000
31.800.000
35.000,000
33.000,000
$39,200,000
4;j.ooo.ooo
46,800,000
46.200,000
48,800,000
51,600,000
51,000,000
53.357,000
1882
1883
1.884
1885
842,000.000
42,504.447
18'«
1887
39.44,5.:sl2
40.161... oc
The annexed table still farther illustrates this branch of the
subject by showing the consumption of the precious metals in tha
United States in the industri.-.l arts, as reported by the Mmf, for,
the years 1880, 1881, 1883 and 1885: —
Gold. Silver.
1880 $8,034,193 $:!.4ii4.ie!
1881 in.osti.723 3.38S.42I
1883 14.4,59.4IV4 6.55<?»530
i«S,5: 11.152,120 4^98-413
816
UNITED STATES
[statistics.
^oick- Nearly all the quicksilver prodoccd in the United States comes
3ilver. from California. The total produce of the Californian mines,
during the years 1880-1S87, has been as follows:—
18811 59.926
881 60,851
*882 52.732
, 1883 4*3.725
! 1884 31.913
1885 32,073
18S6 29,9S1
1887 33.825
No new dii^eoverios of localities of importance have been made
during the past few years, and the mint-s wluL-h .'tre now worked
in California have been of l.-ite years in a rather depressed c judi-
tion, owing to the low price of the metal, the increased expense of
production consequent on the greater depth of the workings, and
the growing scarcity of the ore. No quicksilver mine earned or
paid any dividend in 18S5; but since that time there has been a
rise in the price of the metal, and a somewhat increased activity
in its exploitation. Two mine.^ paid di^ndends in ISSii; the New
Almaden. SI 18.010.75, and the^tna. S20.0,((f; the former al^o paid.
in 1888. $2^2,663. A consideraltle portion of the quick-ilver mined
in California is used in that and th? adjacent Cordilleran States, a
part goes ro Mexico, ^nd ther.- is a small and varying export to
China. The low price of .-ilver has materially affected the profits
of exports to foreign countries.
1^7. The ore of tin has been discovered in Several localities in the
United States, and there have been many atlempis mado to open
mines in various parts of the country; but up to the present time
theamoutitof this metil produced has been entirely insignificant.
Among the localities in the Appalachian rejrion where mining for
tin has been attempted are, Winslow, Maine; Jackson, New
Hampshire; one on the northwestern slope of the Blue Hidge. in
Rockbridge county, Virginia; and one near Ashland, in Clay
county. Alabama The veins in the first two localities mentioned
are unquestionably toosmall for successful working. In regard to
the other plai't'S. it does not yet seem to be known whether the
conditions there existing are sufficiently favorable to warrant the
expectation that thev will become profitable The fact that there
are no apparent indications— judging from the descriptions which
hare been published — of superficial deposits which could be success-
fully stream' d f>r tin seems a strong reason for believing that in no
one of these localities could there be a successful (Competition car-
ried on with the stanniferous districts of the East Indies and of
Australin, whe.e the detritai ores of tin exist in the greatest abun-
dance. Of course tiM mining could be made profitable in this coun-
try if a sufiici'^ntly h'gh duty were laid upon this metal.
The stannifernus n-gion from which tha most has been expected
18 the Black Hills of Dakota, at a locality of about twenty miles
southwest of Rapid City.
According to the official report of Mr. A. Williams. Jr.. on the
mineral resources of the United States, for the years 1^.83-84, a
lai^e amount of m'-ney has been expended in opening and pros-
pecting the Etta mine, and in erecting mills and reduction
works.
So far as known, however, up to Jannary. 1889. there has been
no production of tin of commercial importance in Dakota, nor
have regular shipments of this metal from that region been
begim. Tin ore has also been found in the southern part of the
State of California, and several attempts have been made to put
the mines upon the market. The observations of the present writer
in this region in ISt^O, did not lead him to the conclusion that it
was likely ever to become of importance for its production of this
metal.
^iiiC' Zinc has become within the past few years an important article
of production in the United States.
The business of making metallic zinc had not become of any
importance previous to 1875. Since that time it has increased at a
mo<lerate and pretty uniform rate.
The latest and most reliable statistics of zinc are those given by
Mr. C. Kirchhoff, Jr . in the " Mineral Resources of the United
States for 1887." as follows, in tons:—
State.
18S2.
1883.
1884.
1885.
1886.
1887.
16,256
2,232
5,087
14.092
8.044
5.118
4,768
:5.7i 9
7.017
4,669
7,019
17.345
7,591
4.176
7,216
18.818
7.y75
5.241
6,037
19,892
10,674
7,732
6.648
Kansas
£a.<rem and Southern
States
Total
30,Ui
32.922
34,414
36,528
38.071
44,&16
The production of zinc in the United States for the year 1888 is
estimated at 50,S0(.) tons— a moderate increase over the preceding
year. This country furni-hes. therefore, at the present time a
little over one-sixth of the total production of the world, which
ha* increased since the beginning of the present decade fri^m
about 225,(t00 to very nearly SfW.OOO tone.
For a long term of yeara the production of lead in the United
ptiites wa.s limited to the Mississippi valley. The deposits occur
in two districts — one. the so-called "Upper Mines." covering an
area of three to four thousand sqiiare miles included within tha
States of Wisconsin. Iowa, and Illinois; the other, the **Lower
Mines," in Southeastern MiBsouri.
The mode of occurrence of the galena in both the Upper and Upperawf
Lower Alines of the Missis.-ippi Valley is extremely simple. In lower
the Upper Mines th_- geological age ot the group of strata in which mines,
this ore is found is Lower Silurian. In these mines the principal
lead bearing rock is a crystalline dolomite, from '2^) to 275 feet in
thickness where not partially removed by erosion. The upper por-
tion of this formation is somewhat argillaceous; the middle, a
very pure heavy-bLdded dolomite; the lower, a similar rock, but
containing numerous cherty or flinty masses. Thisgroupof strata
is locally known as the Upper Magnesian Limestone, it is sepa-
rated from a roek of Tery similar lithological character, called
the Lower Magnesiar Limestone, by three groups of strata, which
are commonly de>igriated as the Blue Limestone, the Buff Lime-
stone, and the St. Peter's Sand^tone. The first of these is a thin-
bedded, highly fossiliferous, purely calcareous rock; the second, a
heavy-bedded argillaceous dolomite; the third, a nearly chemi-
cally pure quartzose sandstone. The Blue Limestone is from fifty
to seventy feet in thickness; the Bluff, fifteen to twenty; and the
Sandstone, from eighty to a hundred. The Blue and the Bluff
limestones are of about the same geological age as the Trenton
and Bhick River groups of the New York Geological Survey.
The yield of the Upper Mines is gradually diminishing; and
this will continue to .>e the case, since the extent of the lead-
beariiig rock is limited, and the vertical range of the crevices con-
fined to a moderate thickness, there being no probability that
paxing mines will be discovered in the Lower Magnesian Lime-
stone,
_ The le id ores of Missouri occur, and almost always in associa-
tion with those of zinc, in three somewhat distinct districts: in
the souihea-^tern portion of the State, where also nickel and cobalt
ores are found; in the central, and in the southwestern. The
mines of the Southeastern district are in the Lower Silurian.
The numerous lead mines opened and worked in various States
situated in the Appalachian region, from Maine to North Caro-
lina, have nearly all proved unsuccessful ventures. A few have
for a >hort time produced a moderate supply of this metal ; one or
two have been quite pe»-manent. although yielding but a very
small amount of lead; while much the larger number have proved
entire failures.
While the Mississippi Valley lead mines have furnished, of late
years, but a small proportion of the world's supply of this metai,
the United States has largely increased its product; so that, from
18S0 on. this country has furnished a quarter or more of the entire
amount of lead smelted in the world.
The total yield of metallic lead throughout the United States Yield of
for the years 1873-87 is eiven (in tons) in the following table, pre- metallic
pared by Mr. Kirchhtiff * The desilverized lead of the Cordilleran jpaii ir
States is separated from the non-argentiferous of the Mississippi United
Valley, and its percentage of the total stated. The table as here State*,
presented extends back to the time when the argentiferous lead
ores of the country began to be of importance: —
Desilverized Lead.
Non-Ar-
gtDtiferous
Lead.
Tear.
Amount.
Percent,
of Total.
Total.
1873
17,999
47.7
19.983
37,982
1874
46,410
1875
31.168
33.615
45,310
57,401
57,72i
62.620
77.067
92.745
1U9.U68
107,112
95.926
102.526
121 028
58.5
58.8
62.0
70.6
69.7
71.7
73.7
78.3
84 8
86.4
83.0
8.5,0
84.3
22.082
23.590
27.815
23.902
25.116
24.724
27.473
2.i.9<7
19.465
17,796
18.728
18,671
22,454
5.3.250
1876
57.205
1877
73.125
1878
81.303
1879
82.839
IgSO
87..344
1881
104,540
1,882
118.6.S2
1,S'*3
12S..533
1S.S4
124.>««
18H5
114.654
1S86
12I.IW
18S7
14 '.482
The Engineering and Mining Journal estimates the production of
lead in the United States for the year 18S8 at no less than 168,700
tons. It is an interesting fact that Idaho is beginning to be of
crmsiderable importance as a lead producing State. The principal
mines are in the Coeur d'Alene di-trict.
To other very important articles— such as lime, cement, and Hon-metai-
building-stone— only brief allusion can here be made._ since their 'ife?ou-
mode of occurrence is so varied, and the manner in which they are mint.Tais
utilized so irregular, that they hardly com-' within the scpeuf the
present work. Only very imperfect statistics could be obtaint-d in
regard to such materials as lime and building stones, of which the
use is so wide-spread and so little under possible control. According
to the estimates of the officer in charge of the division of Mining
Statistics of the United StJites Geological Survey, the value of the
lime and building-stone used in the country in the year 1887 was,
for each of these articles, greater than that of the petroleum pro-
duced. The item of coal alone constitutes nearly seven-tenths of
the value of the non-metalliferous minerals mined; and the five
items of coal, petroleum, natural gas. building-stone, and lime
together make up fully ntneteen-twentieths of the sum totftl.
Other important articles are: salt, of the produce of which in 1S87
the value was S4.0&'3.846; cement, $5,186,877; limestone for flux ia
the iron manufacture, S3,226.200: phosphate-rock, $1,836,818. _The
importance of the salt manufacture in the United States is so
♦Mineral Resources of the United States, for the year 1887,
eTAT!ST:C"S.
UNITED STATES
817
great that space may be found here for a few it murks on the
geological ui(xie ot vtvurnnce oi salt, and the geographical distri-
bution of the salt ludusiry.
The coinmoa salt ol the world is obtained for use in four differ-
ent ws,ys: namely, tlie evaporation of the ocean water, the evapiir-
ation of the water of >al:[.e lakes, the evaponition of saline water
or brine obtained by tniring, and the mining of solid or rock-salt.
By each of these methoil> salt is, or has been, pi-oduced in the
fnittd :jiates; but the third of these is at presi ni by far the most
important source of supply nf this substance in rhi^countrj'.
In the early history of the country the salt usi^d was in part itn-
ported from England, and in part produced by the evaporation of
sea-water on the i^lands adjacent to the coast in a low latitude,
and especially Turk's Island.
Copt-t The present sources of supply for copper in the United States
are ciii fly the Lake Superior region and the Territories of Mon-
tana and Arizona. The produce of the other States is compar*-
lively Insignifieant.
The mines of Lake Superior, of the date of the opening of which
mentit^n has already oeen made, are of a peculiar charac-
ter. From these mines only is copper taken exclusively in its
nat've state.
Ihe "Cliff Mine," on Keweenaw Point, which was worked
from 1845 to 1872 to a depth of nearly 1,500 feet, is of historical
importanee in the development of the mining industry of the
souatry. al« being the first permanent deep mine worked, and as be-
ixig th'? first mine of any ore, other than that of iron to pay regular
dividLnds. The Minnesota mine, near the Ontonagon river, was
another one of interest, and, like most of those to the west of Ke-
■ifeenaw I'uint. of asumewhat different chamcter from that of the
"31ifi mine, since the cupriferous lode ran pamlk-1 with the forma-
:*iDn instead -if across it. These longitudinal occurrences are, ap-
fiarently, intermediate in character between contact deposits and
BSengated veins.
Ihe Lake Superior region, «oon after it was first opened, in 1S45,
^acan to produce largely and for many years it supplied from
stiir^n to nine-tenths of the copper furnished by the United
"Xae growth in the production of copper in the United States
j'njpiled up to 1885, inclusive from the best data available, is
scown in the following table. It proves in a striking manner how
pr9p':»nderating was, until the past few years, the influence of the
X/3kke Superit-r district; and again of one great mine in it, the Cal-
omet and the Hecla, for more than a decade. In order to point out
more clearly how preponderating has been the output of the
Lake district from 1^67 to 1880, a column has been added giving
itsperc crage of the total product from year to year. It should
be stated that thejrieid of copper from pyrites is not here included.
Production of copper in the United States from 1845 to 1885,
iriciusive.
Tears.
Total
produc-
tion.
Lake
Superior.
Calumet
and
Hecla.
Percent-
age of Lake
Superior
of total
product.
1S45
Lonff tons
HKJ
150
300
500
700
650
900
1.100
2.000
2.250
3.000
4,000
4,H00
5.500
6,300
7,200
7.5C0
9,000
8,500
8.000
8,500
8,900
10.000
11,(5(10
12,.500
12.000
13,000
12,500
15,500
17,500
18,100
19.n0fl
21.000
21.500
23.C00
27.000
32.000
40.467
51.574
6S.555
74,053
Lonff toju
12
26
213
461
672
572
779
792
1,297
1,819
2,593
3,666
4,255
4,08s
3,9-5
5,388
6,713
6.n65
5,797
5,576
6,410
6,138
7,8.'4
9,346
:il,886
10,992
11.942
10,961
13,433
15,327
16.a'i9
17.085
17.422
17.719
19.129
22.2fl4
24.363
25.439
26.653
30.916
32,206
Lonff tons
12.0
lSt6 . . . ■
17.0
lg47
71.0
184S
92.5
1840
96.0
]8,t0
88.0
1851
86.6
1852 . . .
72.0
1853
64.9
1854
71.1
18t5
86.4
18.56
91.6
1857 .. .
88.7
1S5S
74.3
1S59
63.3
I860
74.8
1861
89.1
1862
67.4
1863
67.0
1864
69.7
1865
75.4
1866
68.8
1867
603
2.276
5,497
6,277
7,242
7,215
8,414
8,9S4
9.556
9.6S3
10,075
11,272
11,728
14,140
14.000
14.309
14.788
17.812
21.093
78.2
1868
80.6
1869
95.1
-870
87.2
, i871
91,9
■ 1872
95.7
1873
87.3
1874
87.6
1875
89.4
1876
88.9
1877
82.9
1878
82.4
1879
83.2
1880
82.2
1881
76.1
1882
62.1
1883
50.1
1884
48.4
1885
43.5
Tlic fiillowing is, in detail, the cutput of the Lake PuperiDr mines.
Ill the laiijurity of cases it is th'i ofhcial product, ba.^ed on smelting
wotks returns: in a tew instance- it is an official estimate of fie
ingot product based on the known output, of mineral. The
Alass is the only larger mine in the case of which the ingot was es-
timated from the published statement of the output of mineral.
The total is accurate, therefore, witliin a few thousand pounds.
The production of Lak* Superior copper mines, 1880 to 1885.
Mines.
1880.
Calumet and Hecla
Quincy
Osceola
Franklin
Allouez
Atlantic
Pewabio
Central
Grand Portage
Conglomerate
Mass
Copper Falls
Phoenix
Hancock
Huron
Kidge
Saint Clair
Cliff
Wolverine
Nonesuch
Isle Royal
Miiiong
National
Minnesota
Belt
Sheldon and Columbia...
Ajtec
.\d venture
Peninsula
Tamarack
Ogima
Concord
Evergreen Bluff
Flint Steel River
Madison
Northwestern
Ash Bed
Centennial
Sundry companies — tributers
Total 49.6«2.a3;
31,675,239
3,696,263
3.383.537
2.336,46b
1,318,471
2,341,195
970.509
2,026,078
67,860
2S3.814
517,159
6,615
436,010
3.032
70.285
223,353
13,195
78.962
55,584
79.469
27.407
26.033
26.931
3.757
2.951
5.885
10.464
10.651
28,080
916
6.166
Mines.
1883.
Calumet and Hecla
Quincy
Osceola
Franklin....
Allouez
Atlantic
Pewabic
Central
Grand Portage
Conglomerate
Mass
Copper Falls
Phcenix
Hancock
Huron
Ridge
Saint Clair
Cliff
Wolverine
Nonesuch
Isle Royal
Minong
National
Minnesota
Belt
Sheldon and Columbia
Aztec
Adventure
Peninsula
Tamarack
Ogima
Concord
Evergreen Bluff
Flint Steel River
Madison
Northwestern «.
Ash Bed
Centennial
Sundry companies — tributers
Tot.il
33,125,045
6.012.239
4.256.409
3,488,708
1.751,377
2,682,197
1,171.847
1,268.556
735,598
222,117
659,474
804.000
512.291
484,906
720,213
60.155
125.225
10.374
699,622
3,582
26,006
6,226
16.402
849.400
7.435
3,0li0
59,702.404
1881.
1882.
31.360.781
5.O06..S4S
4.179.976
2.677,932
1.473.007
2.528.009
1.876,244
1,418,465
26,264
386,1191
467.684
669.121
4(9.3i7
571.897
254.515
2:35.606
1.3.5.492
79.382
119,061
47,3l«
15,397
24,227
'io'osi'
7,5(ji'i
16,776
28.849
968
4.140
1,534
24,804
"i;6i2
54.548,909
1884.
40.473,585
5,650,4;36
4,247,630
3,748.652
1.92'i,174
3,163.5S5
227,834
1,446.747
255.81.0
1.198,691
4S1..396
891.16S
631.004
562.636
1,927.660
74.o:;0
139.4(7
2^.22.5
751.763
23.867
16,074
""'si'.m
1.144
ISO.Sot
9.S28
32.0.53,039
5,665.796
4,176.782
3.264.120
1.6-3,057
2,631,708
1.482,666
l.:353,59T
7.57.( 80
734.249
737.440
587„500
6:57,177
540,575
364,579
102.938
87.126
66.053
25,623
46,450
35,447
21,380
17,06U
10,672
5,625
3.299
3,129
429
4,207
72,636
83,554
57,155.991
1885.
47,247,990
5,848,530
1,945,208
4,0(17,105
2,170.476
3,582,633
2,157,408
365,000
1,168,000
544,355
203,037
2,252,454
63,390
32S,61P
28,481
4,333
1,226,981
1,1C6
954
1,511
'a',696'
162.252
12 608
27,433
4,000
181,669
12,000
1,500
i.COO
69,353,202 72.148,172
2:j— 30
818
UNITED STATES
[STA'nSTICS.
Montana is nest in importance to the Lake Superior district as
a copper-producing re^aon. The mines are tor the most part in the
neighborhood of Butte City, oovering an area of two and a half
miles long by one mile wide.
Although therelias, of late years, been a falling off in the pro-
duction of copper in Arizona, so that at present this Territory is
overshadowed by Lake Superior and Montana, it appears that this
Is due to its unfavonible situation with reference to a market,
rather than to any exhaustion of its cupriferous deposits, which
are numerous and important.
There are many Iocalitie:!i in the Atlantic States, from Maine to
CJorth Carolina, when^ mining for copper has been attempted, but
in few of these has anything like a permanent paying mine been
developed. The Vermont Copper Company, located at Vernon,
aas made, perhaps, the nearest approach to a success of any copper-
mining company on the eastern side of the Appalachians, since
operations were carried on here for many years uninterruptedly
and with moderate profit. This mine was abandoned for a time,
but work has lately been resumed. The present high price of this
metal has been a groat stimulus to mining, and within the past
few months many localities which had been abandoned have been
taken hold of again by capitalists. This is true for both Eastern
and Cordilleran .States.
The effect of this excitf-ment will be seen in the annexed table,
arranged and condensed fnun the various official reports on the
Mineral Resources of the United States. It affords a comprehen-
Bive \'iew of the progress of the copper-mining business in this
country during the years 1882 to 1888; the amounts are given in
tons: —
O
§
S
S
'-
-*
s s
s s:
3 a
to
o
"
CO
3
00
CI
s n:
s
h5 a <
s
m
■3
o
a a
The total production of copper throughout the world for the
year 1888 has been estimated at 2.V),000 tons. Of this amount a
nttle over two-fifths is to be credited to the United States.*
♦This is the estimate given in the Engineering and Mining
Jcnmal of Jan. 12, 18sh, from which the figures given in the pro-
cediiig tabla tor the year liiSS are taken.
The followingtablp gives the amount and value of metallic pr<^
ducts in the United States;
goo
o o o o
g O GO >0 OD
o
o o
-T- = O <^
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As will be seen from the table given farther on, the production Sail
of salt in Ohio and Virginia, at the present time, is much less
than that of Michigan i^nd New York. The advantages which the
two last-named States offer are, on the whole, decidedly superior
to those of the former; so that the production of Ohio has re-
mained nearly stationary during the last sis years, while that of
the Kanawha Valley, once the most important salt-pruducing
region in the country, has during that time decidedly decreased, so
that at present it is hardly one-tenth as large as that of New York,
and less than one seventeenth nf that of Miehtgan.
The quantity of mck-sa It which lia^s I -i shown by geological
observation, or proved by the drill, to eii i within the limits of
the United States is very large. To the existence of large bodies
of this material in Western New York and Michigan allusion hi;-.
already been made. Salt baa also recently been discovered ii.-
Kansas, by persons engaged in prospecting for oil and gas, i.
several localities, and in quantities said to be large. Neitheriv.
Kansas nor in any of the States mentioned as important ps.. •
STATISTICS.] .
UNITED STATES
819
ducers of salt, has the mining for rock-salt been of any importance
up to the present time A locality where this materijil occurs iu
large quantity, and the existeuct* of vvhich ha^ iteon known for a
long timt?. namely. Petite Anse, an ioUud in Vermilion Bay. on
the coa.>t of Louisiana, and which became of importance durinjr
the Civil War. is now quite extensively worked, and i-t the only
fouree from which salt is obtained to any extent in Louisiana.
The quantity min d at this locality has risen, from 276,000 barrels
In IS8-\ to.>ver34M)0U in 1S87.
K nek salt also occurs in large quantity in various portions of the
Cordilleran region, and it has been mined at some localities both
for household ani metallurgical purposes. A deposit his been
Ions known to exist on the Rio Virgen, in Lincoln County. Nevada,
where the salt appears to occur in very large quantity, it being — as
is stated — exi'Osed in a canon cut through it for a distance of two
miles, the deposit occupying an extensive area, with an unknown,
but certainly very considerable thickness. There are also large
deposits of this mineral in Utah, especially in San Pete County*
near the town of Xephi. Most of the salt used in that S^te at
present, however, comes from the salt-farms around Salt Lako.
The following table gives, in barrels, the amoujit of salt pro-
duced in the United States from 1S.S3 to 1S77:*—
States.
1883.
1884.
1885.
1S86.
1887.
Michigan
New York...
Ohio
2.'>94.672
1.619.4^6
35 '.WO
320.1 iHI
2S.\2I5
214.2Sii
117.14.3
21.429
400,000
3.161.806
1.7N8.454
3:20.000
310.000
223.904
178.571
114.2S5
17.8.57
400.000
3.297,403
2.3W.7S7
306.S47
223.184
299.271
221 .4US
W.un
28.593
250.000
3.677.257
2.431.563
4110.000
250.000
299.691
214.2S5
164.285
30,000
240,000
3.944.309
2.353.560
365 000
West Virginia
Louisiana
Cnlifomia
Utah
225.000
341.093
28.090
325 I'OO
Nevada
Other States..
' 'i5Q,{m
Total
6.192.231
6,514.937
7.038.653
7,707,081
7,831,962
General The astonishing rapidity with which the mineral and metiillif-*
9unitii»ry. eroas resources of the Cordilleran region have been developed
during the past thirty years will have been made apparent to the
reader who has examined the preceding pages. In 1854 the pres-
ent writer estimated the total value of the metals produced in the
I'nited States at $79.827 .<X)0. of which nearly SoO.OOO.OOO was to be
credited to gold.t The change which has taken place since that
time will be seen on examining the following tables, which give,
in compact form, results obtained and published by the Chief of
the Division of Mining Statistics, of the United States Geological
*By W. A. Raborg, in Mineral Resources of the United States
for the year 1SS7, p. 611. A barrel is five bushels ot fifty-sii
pounds each.
tSee Metallic Wealth of the United States, pp. 5U5-510.
Survey. The first table shows the total value of the non-metalUc
prodnets of the United States for the years 1882 to 1*S7. and alsr
the grand total of bolh metallic and iionmetallic products for the
same years. The second shows the amount and value of the metaL
lie products of the United .'^tates for the years 18S2-87. The valu^g
of the iron is the spot value: that ot the gold and silver, the coiii<
ing value; that of the cppcr K-ad, and zinc, the value at New
lorli; that of the quick.-iilver. the value at San Francisco: —
i i
i 12
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S 3
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PART III. POLITICAL GEOGRAPHY AND STATISTICS.
Or.
tK.,
POPUXATION" AND IMMIGRATION.
The first census of the United States was taken in 1790, and
there has b-en one taken every tenth year since that time. The
following table .shows the absolute number ot inhiibitants, '* ex-
cluding Indians not taxed," at each decennial period, and also
tbti rate per cent, of increase during the previous ten years :
Year, Population. Percentage of
Increase.
1790 3.929,2U
I'iOO 5.3US.433 35.11
1810 7.229.881 36.40
382') 9,633.822 33.06
1S30 12.806,020 33.55
1840 17.069.4-53 32.67
1850 23,191.876 35.86
18iO 31,443,321 35.58
1871) 38,558,371 22.63
1880 50.15-5.7S3 30.08
1890 63,231.428 estimate.
'Wth of T^6 effect of the_ Civil War on the growth of population in the
uHiion. ^°**^®*^ States is easily seen in the diminished ratio of increase
shown by the figures for the decade 1S60-1870. With that excep-
tion the rate nas been extraordinary large and uniform, but less
in the deoade 1870-80 than in any preceding one. That this rapid
growth of the population, due in so large a part to immigration,
will ojntinue to be maintained is in the highest degree improU-
l.ble. The fact that nearly the whole of the more valuable por-
tion of the public lands has been already taken up, as will be seen
farther on. can hiirdly fail to check immigration, although the
population, is at present, far from dense, and f;ir from being so
(itrge that there is not ample room for a much larger number.
The area embraced within the United States at the time of tak-
ing the first census was about eight hundred and fifty thousand
equare miles, a precise statement of the amount being impossible,
•wing to the peculiar wording of that part of the treaty in which
'.he northern and western boundaries of the country are defined.
The density of the population at that time was about 4.6 personi
per square mile, this population being almost exclusively confined
to the Atlantic sea- board At that time not more than five per
cent, of the inhabitants of thecountry lived we.st of the Appala-
chian range, the lettlements being very closely limited to the bor-
ders of the navigable itreoms. At the time of taking the census of
1850, the boundaries of the United States had become definitely es-
tablished, the only addition made since that time being the terri"
tory acquired in 1853 by the Gadsen purchase (about 47,-^30 square
miles). At that time the average density of the population of the
whole country was a little less than eight persons per square
mile.
The following table shows the density of the population at the
epoch of each census which ha.s been taken during the time when "
the area of the country remained (with the exception of the par-
chase of Alaska, not here inoladed) unchanged :—
Year. Ares of U. S. Population per
sq. mile.
1860 3,025.600 10.39
1870 '• 12.74
1880 •* 16.57
The movement of the population has. from the beginnine. been Moven^nt
from the east toward the west, the first settlements having been of popula
made on the Atlantic const, and theeinignitiontotheUnitedStatos tion.
having been almost exelusiTely from European countries. The
Pacific coast had. previously to the annexation of California, re-
ceived a small number of whites coming from Mexico, and since
that time there have be( n some accessions to the population in that
region by means of emisration from China; but the number added
from this direction is almost insignificant in comparison with that
which has come into the country from the east. Hence the center
of population has been mo\-ing westward, and the investigations
of the Coast Survey and of the Census Bureau have shown that this
movement has been in an almost exactly westerly direction, and
that the center of population has always remained very near the
oai-allel of 39**. Tn 179<t it was in the Intitude 39° 16' .5, at »
pvint of about twenty-three miles east of Baltimore; in 1880 ii;
820
U N I T JH. D b r A T E S
[ftTATiSTICS*
wa8 eight miles west hy south from Clnciiioati. in latitude 39°
2.1/ baring moved \vt_'stward 457 uiiles in uiueLy years. The most
southerly point reac-iie-J was that <if lfe3t*, wlu-n the center was in
tatitude 38° 57' .9; the most rapid movenieTit was iu the p-riod
i85U-*in— namely, eighty-one milre. this being due to the rapid
transferof a considerable popuhition from the Eastern to the
Pacific States, consequent on the discovery of the gold of Cali-
fornia
The division of the population by sexes, as shown by the CL^nsus
of ISSO, was as follows:
Males 25,518.820
Females 24,636,963
Thenumberof females for each 100,000 males in 1870 and 1880
was as follows:
1870. 1880.
Number of females to 100.000 males 96,514 97,801
>Ti-iiiioDS As n nitural result of the conditions influencing emigration
utlue cing from the uldtT to the newer States, it is found that females are in
^oi'ulacion. excess iu the Atlantic Statt^s. In the District of Columbia.
Rhode Island and .Massachusetts, the excess of femalesovermalea
is five percent, or more; in Connecticut. New Hampshire, North
Carolina, South Carolin;!. New York, V^irgiuia and Alabama, it is
from two and a half co five per cent.; in Maryland, Georgia. New
Jersey, L'iuisiana. Tennessee, Pennsylvania and Maine it is less
than two .-inda half per cent. The States, on the other hand, in
which the males are considerably in excess of the females, are those
eitunt d iM 'he Conlilieran region, where mining is the chief pur-
, Buit, n';d where the conditions of life are such as are mure easily
borue by men than by women. In Michigan. Minnesota, Kansas
Rnd N.ba.-ka, which are not Cordilleran States, but. which are
an the ■■sireme northern, western or southwestern borders of the
C'intral region, the number of temiles is from eighty to ninety per
f'*nt. of thatnf the males, and New Mexico is in the same category.
Xq the Pacific const States the number of females is from fifty to
fiightv per cent that of the males ; and the same is true of Colorado
and Dakota, wh'ch are situated on the eastern borders of the Rocky
Mountain, and which are partly ;igricultural and partly mining
States. In those States in which mining and stock-raising are by
farthe predominating interests, and which are entirely inclosed in
the Cordilleras. name!y, Idaho, Nevada, Wyoming and Montana,
(he inetiJality in the numbers of the sexes is greatest, there
being in th-^se tenitories less than half as many females as males.
The same inequality exists in the territory of Arizona.
Of the colored population the census of 1880 showed the num-
ber to be 6/8' 1.793 to 43.402.970 whites, or 15,162 colored in every
IuO.O^JO whites. The slight increase in this ratio from that given
by tbecen^^us of 1-S70 (14.528 to lOM.OOfi) is believed to be chiefly,
if not entirely, due to the imperfection of the census of 1870.
The colored population is still, in spite of some slight emigration,
almost entirely confined to the fnrmer slave States, and in three
of them— South Carolina, Mississippi and Louisiana— the colored
are in access of the whites. In Alabama. Florida. Georgia. Vir-
ginia, North Carolina and the District of Columbia the colored
element runs from fifty to ninety per cent, of the white; in Ar-
kansas, Texas, Tennessee and "Maryland, from twenty-nine to
thirty-five per cent; in Delaware and Kentucky, from nineteen
to twentv-two per cent ; in Missouri. Kansas, \V est Virginia, New
Jersey, Ohio, Rhode Island, Pennsylvania and Indiana, from two
to 7 per cent; in all the remaining States it is less than two per
cent.: and in most of them, especially the more northern ones, it
is leis than one per cent.
DiSTRIEUTIOS OF THE PoPtH^ATION OF THE UNITED SXATES IN 1880,
BY Drainage Basins.
Drainage Basin.
Area in sq.
miles.
Population.
Total.
Per sq. mile.
New England Coast..
Midille .Atlantic Coast.
South Atlantic Coast..
Great Lakes
Gulf of ile-\ico
61.S30
!i3,020
132.040
175.340
1,725.9S0
3,788.334
9.240.897
4.1I4.,'>63
.'>.6S4.U7
25.884,117
61.2
111.3
31.2
32.4
14.3
Total Atlantic...
Great Ba^in
2,178,210
22=.150
619.240
48,7I7,2fl3
2-27.1I7
1.211.3S3
22.4
1 0
1 9
Total
3,025,600
55,155,783
The dietribution of the populafion in reference to the topo-
graphical and cliiuatie features of the country is such as naturally
arises from the constant operation of twotcauses, both acting in
the same direction. Emigration and overflow from a more thickly
Fettled region toward one more thinly inhabited takes place, with
insignificant eiceptions, from the east toward the west. Immi-
grants arrive from Europe, are landed on the Atlantic coast-
about three-fourths at one point, Now York — and thence in lai'ge
part find their way westward in the direction of lands unoccupieij
or only thinly settled. To the east of the Mississippi the land is al-
most everywhere exceptionally fertile, and the climatic condi-
tions are. oyer a large area, as explained elsewhere, very much
the same, and on the whole highly favorable. Soon after crossing
the Mississippi, we find that this favorable condition of things
begins to change. Not only is ihe immigrant getting farther and
farther from his home, but he is finding his environment lcss:jn«i
less suited to the development of those conditions which favor
the existence of a dense population. Never, by any possibility,
can the rej;ion of small rainfall, and, in large part, of rugged
mountains, extending from the first belt of States beyond the
Mississippi to the belt lying directly on the Pacific coa^t, become
a densely populated portion of the country. This dryer rrgioD
is also the most elevated, as has already been fully explained.
The results of the conditions thus indicated are sufficiently showc
in the above table and the following:
Geographical Distribution of the Population' of the United
States in Accordance with the Topographical Features.
North Atlantic Coast
Middle Atlantic Coast
South Atlantic Coast
Gulf Coast
Northeastern Appalachian Region
Central Appalachian Region
Region of the (rreat Lakes
Interior Table-land
Southern Appalachian Region
Ohio Valley
Southern Interior Table-land
Mississippi River Belt, south
Mississippi River Belt, north
Southwestern Central Region
Central Region
Prairie Region
Missouri River Belt
Western Plains
Heavily Timbered Region of the Northwest
Cordilleran Region
Pacific Coast
Percent-
Population.
age of
Total
Popalafr.
2,616,882
5.i
4,375,194
8.'/
875,387
1.
1,(155,851
2.
1,669,226
3.-
2.344,223
4.'.
3,049.470
6.1
5,716,326
11.4
2,695,085
5.4
2.442,792
4.9
3,627,478
7.2
710,268
1.4
1.991,.3(>2
4.0
2,932,807
5.8
4.401.246
8.8
5,722.485
11.4
835,445
1.7
323,819
n.7
1.122,337
2.2
932.311
1.9
715.789
1.4
The larger divisions of the country are represented as follows,
both as to the aggregate population and its different elements:—
Region.
Atlantic Plain
Central Valley
Appalachian Region
Cordilleran Region . .
Percentage of Population.
Total Foreign. Colored.
29.84
53.50
13.38
3.28
32.74
51.62
8.40
7.24
40. .50
50.02
7.22
2.26
In regard to the distribution of the population of the United
States in towns and cities, and the positions of those centres, the
following may be stated:—
In 1790 there were in the country four cities having a population
of from 8.000 to 20.000and two above 20,000. but not one surpassing
75,000 in number. Fifty years later, there were forty-four towns
and cities having a population of 8,000 and over, and one of about
oun.OOO. In 1880 tliere were 2S6 towns with over 8,000 inhabitants.
The following statement gives the names and population of ail
the cities having, in 1890. a population of over 100,000:—
OvEE 1.000,000. populatior
Name. j^ jggo.
New York 1.513.50'
Chicago 1.0S«'|?
Philadelphia 1,044,8W
Over 500,000 and Under 1,000.000,
Brooklyn '■ 80^.37:
Over 250,000 and Below 500,000. ,
St.Louis 460.357
Boston 446..507
Baltimore ^i-^^SSt
San Francisco, Cal 297.990
Cincinnati 296,309
Clevcl.-ind. Ohio • 261,546
Buffalo, N.Y 2o5,54.S
STATISTICS.] •
UNITED b T A T f: S
821
Over lOO.OCO .\xd Below 250,0t;0.
New Orleans. La 241 ,995
Pittsburg, Penu 23s.47;<
Washington, D. 0 228.160
Detroit, .Mich 2ti7.791
Milwaukee. Wis 2('3.97a
Newark. N. J Is2.i 20
Louisville, K.v 185.756
Minneapolis, Minn 164,780
Jersey Citv. N. .J 103.987
Eoofacster. N. Y 1?5,302
Umuha. Neb 134.742
St. Paul. Minn 133,156
Providence. R. X 132.043
Denver.Col 126.186
Indianapolis, Ind 125.0(i0
Kansas Citv. Mo Uo.MiO
.Uleghany City, Pa 101,967
OvKK 75,000 AND Bklow 100,000.
ecranton , Pa 9o,0C0
Albanv. X. Y 93.523
New Haven. Ct 85,981
Worcester. .Mass 82,133
Richmoni 80.3C0
Paterson. X.J 78,300
Memphis, Tenn 75,360
ihe census of 18811 showed that of the total population. .50,155,783,
Jiere were 6,679,143 born ia foreign countries, or 15.364 persons
foreigners to lOO.OOO native born; this ratio was a little less than
in 1370, when the number of foreign-born was 16..875 to 100.000
native,
'bomber of The following tables show the number of immigrants arriving in
mniisranls the Uuited States for each decade from 1821 to ISN', and tor each
^rriv.ng in year from l^Sl to 18^7. The yearly average during each decade
vnited rose rapidly, from 14.314 in the decade 1^^21-30 to 2^'4,469 for the
■-:aiea. decade 1^71-80. The number of immigrants for the year 1881 was
more than twice as great as the yearly average of the preceding
deca<le. The maximum was reached in 1882, when the number of
immigrants reached 7o0.349. from which time forward there was a
falling off, the figures in 1SS5 being 3.o0.510. A portion of this
ai>parent decrease seems to be due to the fact that the statistics of
the iramigration by land from Canada and Mexico — the latter very
smnll in amount, however — could not be collected; so that since
July 1. l!iS5. arrivals of this kind have been excluded from the
tables of immigration. In the first table herewith given, the
nationality of the immigration is only imperfectly given, the
British Islands being separated from the rest of Europe, and the
figures also being for China. As will be noticed, the immigration
from Europe and China made up about five-sixths of the total
daring the decade 1871-80. But in the decade 1S51-60 the immi-
gration from Europe made up twenty four twenty-fifths of the
total, thatfroin China being practically null. The apparent in-
crease of immigration from extra-European countries indicated
in the table for the decades since 1860 is chiefly due to the rapid
increase of immigration into the United .States from the adjacent
Dominion; but this ia made up in part of persons who have come
to the United .States from Europe by way (>t Canada:
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[In this and the following tiihle notice must be taken of the fact
that tor the last halt of 1885 and for 1886 and 1887 the immigratioa
from British North America and Mexico is not included.]
Still further light will be thrown on this subject by the follow-
ing_ table, in which the nationality of the immigration into the
United States is given in considerable detail for the years 1S31 to
1887, in percentages of the total amount. From tliis table it will
be seen that Germany has furnished during the past seven years
somewhat less than one-third of the total immigration; Great
Britain and Ireland somewhiit more than a quarter; Xorway and
Sweden about atenth; British North America a bout a tenth: Aus-
tro-Hungnry a little over six per cent; Russia (including Poland),
from tour to five per cent; and Italy nearly the same. These nation-
alities together have furnished during the past six years about
ninety-five per cent of the total. The immigration from Italy and
Russia shows a moderately rapid, but pretty uniform, increase
from year to year : —
Percentage Table Showing the Nationality of Immigrants
INTO THE United States for the Years 1881-87 *
1331.
18S2.
1883.
18S4.
1.3.10
9.85
3.92
.27
1.24
.78
34. 6G
2.79
1.50
11.51
2.01
.06
■ 1.62
.06
2.87
13.22
.54
12.11
9.99
4.10
.15
1.75
.76
31.80
4.03
1.08
12 00
3.07
.66
1.62
.06
4.87
11.9U
.65
12.92
14.67
5.30
.29
1.71
.70
32.33
5.18
.86
9.45
1.78
.16
2.00
.06
.07
11.74
.78
13 69
Ireland
12 70
6 81
.37
Denmark
1 65
80
Germany
33 72
3 14
81
Norway and Sweden
8 22
Russia
4.32
11
Switzerland
1 78
0 1 her European Countries
China
British North America
.23
.02
10 3f»
1 26
190.00
lOO.CO
100.00
lOO.OC
— Nationait*
of imiui
granii.
?22
UNITED STATES
[the PtTBLIC LANDS.
rckCENTAGE Table Showing the Xatioxauty of iMMiGRiXTS
INTO THE VXITED STATES FOR THE YEAKS 1885-87.*
1885.
1886.
1887.
15.92
14.21
7.31
,39
1.B7
.90
30.72
4.42
.71
9.47
5.72
.26
1.46
.19
.02
5.22
1.41
18. 7'.
13.47
10.22
.42
1.69
1.04
21.96
7.78
.1)8
11.73
8.45
.13
1.15
.64
.00
20.64
' iflau'l
14.06
7.56
.58
Jei.m;u k
1.80
1.08
21.53
8.99
1.02
13.46
5 95
.01
1.26
.25
China
British North America
All Other Cooutnes
.00
1.89
1.81
100.00
100.00
100.00
The immiffration into the United States is very unequally dis-
tributed over the surfnce of the country. An inspection of the
census tables and the accompanying maps showsjhat immigrants
in very Jarge proportinn seek Northern regions. In the Souihern
StJites, with the exceptions of Florida. Louisiana, ami Texas, the
foreign element is practically null. Virginia, North Carolina,
Bouth Carolina, Alabama, Georgia, and Mississippi have less than
one per cent of foreign-bom population; and no t>tate south of
Pennsylvania and the Ohio River and east of the ^Mississippi has
as much as four per cent. In the belt of States between the
parallels of 41*^ and 45°, on the other hand, the foreign element is
most strongly renresented. Thus In Massachusetts, Connecticut*
Rhode Isian<l. New York, Michigan. Wisconsin, Minnesota, and
Dakota the fof'-ign-horn population is over twenty-6ve per cent of
the native, and in the two last-named States over fifty per cent.
Iowa. Nebraska, and Kansas, forming a belt of States extending
Boiirhwpsterly from Wisconsin and Minnesota totlie -'^.Tth parallel,
huve a foreign born population ranging between ten and twenty-
five per cent ot the native, except in tlie case of Nebraska, where
the foreign ia a little over twenty-five per cent. In some of the
thinly inhabited States farther west the foreign element is stili
more prominent, as in Colorado. Utah. Nevada, Arizona, and Cali-
fornia. In Nevada, for example, according to the census of 1880.
the foreign-born inhabitants were it> the natives in the ratio of
70,065 to lOH.OUU. But it must be remembered in this connection
that the enMre population of Nevada at ihat time was only 62,286,
and that of Arizona 40.440. In no State or Territory does the
foreign element equal the native, and only in Nevada. Arizona,
li.ikota, Minnesota, and California is it more than half as large,
wliiia in the two last-named States it is^but little more than half.
Texas forms an exception to the other Southern States, the foreign
element being of importance, especially in the southwestern por-
iiou of the State. The State as a whole has. however, only a little
less than eight per cent of foreign-bnrn inhabitants.
The percentage increase of the native white element of the popu-
lations was. for the three decades 1851-80, aa follows;—
1851-60 32.35
186'-70 22.95
1S71-S0 31.25
F.iAy in 1382 an Act was passed by Congress snspendingChinese
immiijraiion into the United States for the term of twenty years.
This was vetoed by the President, and another one w;is passed
having nearly the same provisions asthe firsi, butlimicing the
time of its operation to ten ytars. This Act was not vetoed ; but
became a law May 6, 18S2. This second Act is entitled "An Act
to execute certain treaty stipulations relating to Chinese." From
and after ninety days after the passage of this Act the entrance
of Chinese " laborers *' into tlie United Stales was forbidden, and
any master of a vessel bringing them here was punishable by a
fine of 5600 for each laborer so brought, and also by impri.-^on-
meut for a term not exceeding one year. The_ pretext for this
unprecedented Act was*'thnt the coming of Chinese laborers to
this C'untry endangers the good order of certain localities " with-
in the territory of the United States. The trm "laborers" was
held to nie;in " both skilled and unskilled laborers* and Chinese
employed in mining."
Further legislation relating to the exclusion of the Chinese from
the United States was hnd by Congress in 1888. The two Acts were
passed, the first having been approved Sept. 13, 1888, and a second.
BupplemeiHiiry to this, Oct. I. of the same ye;ir. The object of
thvsc two Ar-tg was to prevent the Chinese wlm wen- then in the
IJnited States from returning &fter having left this country.
The first Act. (approved Sept. 13) allowed a native of China to re-
*The Immigration into the United States arriving at the six
Principal ports (embracing about ninety-eight per cent of the en-
ire iramigrationl was. for the first nine months of the year 1888,
132,802 a slight increase over that of the corresponding months of
thf preceding year.
turn, provided he had a " lawful wife, chiid or parent within the
United States, or property therein I'f the value ot one thousand
dollars, or debts of like amount due him and pending settlement."
This privilege was entirely cancelled by the supplementary Acti
approved Oct. 1 ; and as the matter now stands, only " ChinLse offi- Exdnsiois
cials, teachers, students, merchants, or travelers for pleasure or of Cbini'S*
curiosity are permitted to enter the United States." Furthermore,
it is provided that in order to become entitled^ to such entrance
they must " obtain the permission of the Chinese Government
or other Government of which they may at the time be
citizens or subjects." This permission, and the personal
identity of the party having obtained it, must be au-
thenticated by the diplomatic or consular representative
of the United States at the port or place from which thf<
party comes. It is further provided that any master of a vessel
landing, or attempting to land,any Chinese laborer,*' in contraven*
tion to the provisions of tliis Act. shall be deemed guilty of a mis-
demeanor, and, on conviction thereof, shall be punished with a
fine of not less than five hundred nor more than one thousand dol-
lars, in the discretion ot the Court, for every Chinese laborer or
other Chinese perion so brought, and may also be imprisoned for a
term of not less than one year, nor more than five years, in the dis-
cretion of the Court.'*
Provisions have also been made by Act of Congress for the regu-
lation of the immigrant carrying busincs-s. and rules have been pro-
scribed as to food, water, li^'bt, space occupied, etc. A tax of
fifty cents is also imposed on all immigrants landing in this coua-
try to be used "in defraying the expense of regulating immigra^
tion under this Act, and for the care of immigrants arriving in ■
the United States, for the relief of such as are in distress, etc."*
By an Act of Congress, approved Aug. 3. 1882, it is provided that R"'';& Eosp
no convict, lunatic, idiot, or person '* unable to take care ot him- hiim.i
self or herself without becoming a public charge " shall be permit- ffrauli
ted f o land. Under the provisions of this Act it appears that from
IHSSto Sept. 2b, lHh8. 7,764 immigrants had been returned from the
United States to their own countries — or an average of about 1,^00
persons a year. Of those thus returned from 1883 to lt>88 inclu-
sive, there were 27 convicts, 371 lunatics, and 131 idiots. The re-
mainder; (7,235 persons) were returned as" liable to become a pub-
lic charge."!
THE PUBLIC LANDS.
The emigration from Europe and other countries consists
largely of people .seeking homes in the New World; and this want
ischiefly supplied by the purchase of government land—" public
lands." as usually designated by the authorities— that is, of such
laud as is offered for sale by authority of theUeneral Government,
under the direction of the General Land Office — a branch or sub-
department of the Department of the Interior. It is de.--irab!e, E-"5tent
therefore, that the way in which the General Government cume in fl-i^d _
possession of these lands should be briefly stated, and some idea position,
given of their extent and pot^ition.
The boundaries of the United States as fixed by the provisional
treaty made with Great Britain in 1782. and by the definitive
treaty in 1783, gave to the United States essentially the region
south of the Great Lakes and east of the Mississippi, as far south
as the parallel of 31°; and the southern boundary east of the Miss-
issippi, !is thus establisiied, nenrly along the 31st parallel, was, in
1795. re-atfirmed by treaty with Spain, by which the liue between
the United States and the Floridas was fixed; but difficulties soon
arose in regard to the northern boundary, both in its eastern and
western portions, which w-i e, during many years, the subject of
heated discussion, and uhich moio than once threatened to in-
volve the two countries, (ire;it Britain and the United States, to
war. The most important points, were, however, peaceably set-
tled in 1846, and the la.^t point in dispute finally disposed of. by
reference to the Emperor of Germany as arbitrator, in 1872.
At the time of the adoidion of the Constitution by the original
thirteen States, most of tlieni had claims, nither vague, and in
manv cases decidedly conflicting, to a more or less indefinite area
of country west of their settlements, and extending back to the
Mississippi River. After much discussion, the States having
these claims, influenced by the distinct renlizaiiim of the trouble
which would ensue in case an attempt was made to maintain
them, did. in response to a resolution of Congress, consent to a
transferof these claims to the United States. The first cession of
this kind was that of New York, in 1781. and the last, that of
Georgia, in 1802. The region thus ceded was divided into two ter-
ritories, one of which was culled the "Territory Northwest of tha
River Ohio," the other the "Territory South of the River Ohio."
This region formed the nucleus of the publie Innds of the United
States. This did not include the present Si:(t--g of Kentucky and
Tennessee, the former having been admitted tn the Union withnuk
any claim on the part of the United £t:ites to proprietorship in the
soil, and similar rights in regard to the latter having bc< n relin-
quished by Act of Conf-.^-ss. The total area of the I'nited States
at thi^ time wiis about 850,000 square miles. The first_ ndditioa
made to this wa-- by the French cession of the undetenniiicd area
known as Louisiana. This was brought about by Jrfferson. who
recognized the fact that France would not be able to hold the
*This tax is not collected from immigrants coming from Canada
or Mexico.
tA very stringent Act was passed by Congress in 1885, prohibit-
ing the importation and immigracion of forcignersundaliens "un-
der contract or agreement to perform labor in the United
States, its Territories, and the District of Columbia "_ This Act
c^n have littlo practical effect en the number of immigrants ar-
rivintrin this country; nor ha.s the writer been able t'l procure any
definite information astowhether any persons have ever been
sent back under its provisions.
THE PUBLIC LANDS.]
UNITED STATES
823
regi'^n against the English, with whom Bonaparte, iit that time
First odd) (l&'S-lSOn First CmhsuI. was about to go to war. The treaty of
x-ioii. cession with Bonaparte gave no precise limits to tho territory
ceded, but only de:>cribeii It as beinj: the same as that ceded by
Spain to France according to the treaty of San. Ildt-fonso. This
vagueness was. nodoubt agreeable to the wishes of the American
Degotiator-. who did not lack foresight, and who must easily have
frimprehended the fact that the more vague the terms of the cession
tlie better the chance ot a future extension of the claims of the
United States westward. In point of fact the French cession did
not include the country west to the Pacific, as it was afterward
held to do. for the French had no claim whatever to the region
west of the head of the Missouri. As a consequence of this cession,
however, this vast region did come into possession of the
United States, the boundary having been finally settled in 1S72,
after ninety years of discussion. The final settlement was by a
Reference of the point in dispute to the Emperor of Germany, who
cJeciiied in favor of the United Stales; the main question with re-
^rd to the extension of the boun'lary along the line of the 49th
-(.•arallel to the Pacific, having been settlediu 1846 by the Webster-
jAshburton treaty, which fixed the boundary as far west a^ the
ctraits of Fuea. This cession of Louisiana, as finally settled by
ffeaty with England, added largely to the area of the United
States, extending its limits to the Pacific Ocean, and giving that
gountry complete possession of the Central River system of the
continent. The cost of this cession to the United States was about
twenty-three and a half million dollars in principal and in-
terest,
A further addition to the territory of the United States was by a
cession from Spain of the territory comprised in the present State
of Florida, which took place in 1819, the area thus conveyed being
Bb<3ut 5S.68t.) square miles, and the cost about six and a half millions
3f dollars. Previous to this cession, however, the United States
had. by Act of Congress passed in secret session in 1812. but not
pmrnulgated until ISI-^, taken possession of an area of atout9,740
square miles in West Florida, which was claimed by the Spanish
Government as its property, but which claim was relinquished by
the cession of 1SI9.
The next acquisition of territory by the United States was the
result of the admission into the Union of the Republic of Texas, a
form'^r province of Mexico, having an area of 2^5,780 square miles.
This ann'^xatioa led to a war with the country to which Texas had
formerly belonged, the result of which was the conquest of Mexico,
the occupation of its capital by ihe United States army, and the
dictation of a treaty of peace called the "treaty of Gaudalupe-
Hidalgo,'" which was proclaimed July 4, 1848. By^ this treaty the
southern boundary of the United States was established ; but sub-
sequently. Dec. 31^. 185^?. a purchase was made of a strip of land ly-
ing south of the Gila River in Xew Mexico and Arizona, and con-
taining about 47,330 square miles. This is known as the "Gads-
den purchase."
Claiit s of The claims of both Great Britain and Mexico to the region lying
Gre..i iJrit- west of the Slissouri and northwest of Texas being extremely
MP and vague, it i^ not possible to stiite. with any approach to precision,
i-'exico. what portions of this area originally belonged to the two powers
in question. All that can b5 said is that, remotely, in consequence
of the purchase of " Louisiana " from Bonaparte, and more direct-
ly, as the result of treaties with Great Britain and Mexico settling
the northern and southern boundaries of the United States, the
last named country came into posspssion of a little over l.SOO.llOO
square miUs of land, a- shown in the following statement of the
nature and size of the area= n-lded from time to time to what wa^
ihe original domain of the Colonies at the time of their establish-
jMent as an independent government:
Square miles.
Original area of the United States &49,145
Added by purchase of Florida, 1819,
including 9,740 square miles pre-
viouslv in dispute, but in posses-
sion o'f the United States 58,680
Annexation of Texas. 1848 265.780
Gadsden Purchase. 1853 47,330
Purchase of Louisiana and cessions
by Mexico, 1&J4^48 l,tJ4.t>65
Total 3,025.600
One other addition to the area of the United States was made
in 1867. namely, by the purchase from tbe Russian Government
of the retridu known as Alaska, which comprises an area of about
63i).0(Hi square miles. The price paid for this piece of land
was S7.2'Jo,oiH). Thepurchaseof this territory, the nearest point of
fl-hichisfonr hundred miles distant from the northern line of
Washington, was an entirely unprecedented act on the part of the
United States, ail the rest of the possessions of this country form-
AUika. ing one compact mass of land. Whenever, in the course of this
work, menti'»n is made of the United States, it will be understood
tliat Ala ka is not included, unless a statement to that effect is
BI*ccially male In the same connection.
The entire area of the public land? of the United States (exclu-
iiive of Alaskn. no portion of which has yet been surveyed) is esti-
mated by the Commis-ioner of the General Laml Office, in his re-
port for the year 18S6, at 2.s'.ii.725 square miles, or 1.815.nu4.U7
acres. Of thi-; area there had been surveyed, up to June 30, 1S86.
971.174,878 acres, leaving 844,:^,29.269 unsurveyed. In reference to
this unsurveyed portion the Commissioner made the following re-
mark: "Thevolumeof land in the unsurveyed portion of the
public domain suitable for homes and subject to settlement under
the laws of the United States is of comparatively small propor-
tions."
Of the public lands of the United States a large quantity has
been sold for cash, and a much largcramount taken, under various
Acts of Congress, fur schools and nther educational purposes; as
military bouu,ty ; as *' swamp land," given to the respective States
where it occurs, or has been claimed to occur; as a bonus for the
construction of various lines of railroad, especially those travers
ing thecontiu'-nt from ea-^t to west; as "homesteads" to actual
settlers, and for various oiher purposes. It is impossible to slate
the exact amount of the public land which has been thus disposed
of, but it is certain that nearly all the valuable portion of the na-
tions great inheritance ha-s been taken up already, or has passeH
out of the control of the Government. In regard |to this point,
the following quotation may be made from the introduction to
the volume entitled'" Statistics of Agriculture," forming a part of
the report of the census of 1880. and published in 1883, the re-
marks here quoted beiug from the pen of General Walker,
formerly superintendent of that census :
"It thus appears that, notwithstanding the imposing total of Valuable
1.40*1,000 .-quare miles of still unsettled territory, the amount of land
land available for occupation for ordinary agriculture is not aires iy
large. The Public Land Cummissiun in their report of 1880, say: gone
'It was estimated June ?0, 1879, that (exclusive of certain lands in
Southern Statestof lands over which the survey and disposition
laws had extended, lying in the West, the United States did not
own. of arable agricultural public lands, which could be culti-
vated without irrigation or other artificial appliances, more than
the area of the pr<.sent State of Ohio. namely._25, 56*5.960 acres. The
quantity of land taken up in the arable region during the year
ending June o(i, 1S80. was about 7,000.000 acres.^ The Com-
mission, therefore, reaches the startling conclusion that, at
the same rate of absorption, the arable lands so situated will ail
be taken up within three years, or by June 30, 1883.'
"It is indeed an astonishing aTimtuncement that the public land
system, so far as relates to a;j:ricultural settlers, has virtually
come to an end; that the homestead and pre-emption acts are
practically exhausted of their contents."
Professor A. B. Hart has compihd from public documents th©
following approximat'^ statem nt of the manner in which the pub-
lic lands had been disposed of up to the various periods men-
tioned. The numbers given indicate acres:
s
i
U5
CO
i
in
r~-
M
^
t, fl ai e
•^ c o c
OQ-r 2-tJ P-3
cr o C3 cc tC CI
■* «0 iC CO -* CO
O CO .-H o .-o o
S 3
p^ m <o t^
»-« ^ C-- CO
CJ CO CO
1~ OC Ifi
^ ^ ci
.-i o i: •-< T-< -^
In reference to the wasteful and reckless manner in which the
public lands of the United States had been given away, uittil but
little of value remains. Professor Ilart makes the following re-
marks:—
" Experts in the Land Office assure us that, making all deduc-
tions and allowances, the remaining lands are worth upward- of a
thousand million dollars. There is no evidence in the past policy
of the government for believing that we shall actually not one-
tenth of that amount. The greater part of the region is officially
classified as 'desert lands.* and is for sale in tracts of six hundred
and forty acres, at a dollar and a quarter an acre. Nothing but
the temporary increase of pre-emption enables the Land Ollice a!;
present to pay its running expenses out of income. The g»^ldeti
time is past; our agricultural land is gone; our timber lands aw
824
UNITED STATES
[agriculture.
fast going; our coal and mineral lands will be snapped up as fast
as they prove valuable.*'*
AGRICULTURE.
The following statements and tablei present a succinct view of
the nature and importance of the agricultural interests of the
United States, beginning with the cereals.
r. — THE CEREALS.
The following table shows the production of the cereals in bush-
els, as returned by the census of 1880: —
Production in bushels.
Barley 44.113,495
Uuckwheat 11,817.327
Indian corn 1,754,861,535
Oats 407.858,999
Kye 19,831.595
Wheat 459,479,505
VroduL'tion The production of barley was largest in California (twelve and a
of cereals, bait million bushels); other States producing considerable quan-
tities were: New York. Iowa, ^linuesota. Nebraska. Ohio. No
other State produced as much as one million bushels. In 1886 the
total production of barley in the United States was69.42.S,0(jO bush-
els; of that amount California produced 16,O38.U00 bushels; aud
Neir York. Minnesota, Wisconsin and Iowa each over five million
and less than ten million bushels; while Nebraska. Michigan and
iJttkota each produced over one million and less than five million
bushels.
The total production of buckwheat within the United States, ac-
cor.lin^ to the census of 188(», was 11,817,327 bushels: of this amount
New York and Pennsylvania produced respectively, 4.461,2U0 and
3.592.3-6 bushels. No other State produced as much as half aniill-
ioii bushels; the production of this cereal in the Gulf States being
extreme-Iv vmall. that of the Pacific States being also very insig-
nitieant. No one of the States, other than New York and Pennsyl-
vania, proiiuced as much as half a million bushels.
In 18.S1J the total production of buckwheat was U.SWt.OOO bushels,
oralmost exactly the same as in the last census year (1879).
Indian corn is the most bulky crop among the cereals, the total
yield as reported by the census of 1880 being 1.754, %1,535 bushels.
The principal production of this crop is in the belt of States lying
north of the Ohio, and in the same latitude on the west of the
Mississippi, as will be seen from the following table: —
Production in
State. bushels in 1879.
Illinois 325,792,481
Iowa 2' 5,024,247
Missouri 202.485.723
Indiana 115,482.300
Ohio 111,877,124
These five States produced, as will be seen, consid-rably more
than half the total yield'of the country in the year for which the
statistics are given. As we go north, south, east and west from
this belt we find the yield of Indian corn diminishing. Still, this
cereal i-; a product of importance even as far south as the Gulf
States, but is of comparatively little consequence in New England,
the total production of the six New England States in 1879 being
only 8.376.133 bushels.
In 1886 the total yield of Indian corn was 1.6a5,411.0(X) bushels,
and the States producing over one hundred millloa bushels each
were:
Production in
States. bushels in 1886.
Illinois 209.818,000
Iowa 198.847,(X)0
Missouri 143.709,000
Kansas 126.712,000
Indiana 118.795.000
Nebraska 106.12*J,000
Yield of In- These six States produced in that year considerably more than
dian corn, half of the total, and the gradual advancement westward of the
agiiculturfll development of the country is shown in the appear-
im'-e of Nebraska in the above column of figures as a producer of
o\ or a hundred millions of bushels. The yield of Indian corn in
thisStite. according to the census of 1870, was 4,73h. 710 bushels,
and in 1*<79 it had increased to 65.450.115 bushels. The figures for
i>;ikota for the same years were 133.140 and 2,000,8W bushels.
Uf this crop, so important as it is for home consumption, but a
very small fraction is exported. The following table exhibits the
total produce ot the country for the years since the census year
(1879) up to and including the year 1886. together with the per-
centage exported for each year:
Production Per cent.
Year. in bushels. exported.
1880 1.717.434.543 5.5
1881 1.194.916.000 37
1882 1.617.02=1.100 2.6
1883 1 .551.066,895 3.0
1884 1.795.528,000 2.9
1885 1.936.176,000 3.3
1886 1,665,441,000 2.5
♦Quarterly .Tourual of Economics, vol. i. p. 181 (number for
January. 1887).
The yield of corn in 1SS7 is given by the Department of Agricult-
ure as 1,456.161,000 bushels, and that of 1888 is estimated at
1.9S7. 790,000 bushels. Since 1879 the home consumption of this
cereal has averaged about twenty-seven bushels per annum for
each inhabitant of the country; in the ten years preceding it aver-
aged about twenty-fire bushels.
The total yield of oats, as reported by the census of 1880, was
407.858,999 bushels. The distribution of this crop is pretty uni-
form all over the country, with the exception of the Gulf and Pa-
cific Coast States, where the yield of this cereal is very small,
barley taking the place of oats in California almost entirely.
The fallowing table exhibits the production of oats in the United
States from 1880 to 1888:
Year. Production in bushels.
1880 417,885,380
1881 416.481.000
1882 488,250.610
1883 .... 571,302.400
18--J4 583,628,000
1885 629,409,000
1886 624.134,000
1887 659.618,000
1888 701,735.000
The increase in the number of acres cultivated in oats since the
census year has been very marked; more so than in the Cfise of
wheat or Indian corn. The average fur the decade, 1870-79 was
11.000,000 acres; that for the years 1880-87 was 21.000.000 acres.
The amount of rye grown in the United States as returned by Ptye,
the census of 1880 was I0.831,r.95 bushels; the principal States
where this crop is raised being, in the order of their yield, Penn-
sylvania. 3.683.621; Illinois. :;,lL'l.785; New York, 2,i>34,690; Wis-
consin. 2,298,513; and Iowa. 1.518.605 bushels. The production of
this cereal in the States south of Kentucky and Virginia is ex-
tremely small, but some rye is given as grown in every State and
Territory, except Arizona and Nevada, The production of rye in
1HS6 was 24.489.000 bushels; Kansas appearing this year as a pro-
ducer of a little over two million bushels, and Nebra-^ka of nearly
one million.
M'heat is an extremely important crop in the United States. Wheat.
and is the only cereal of which the export is considerable. The
great wheai-growing States are those along thp north side of the
Ohio, from New York westward and aero>s the Mississippi into
Iowa, Kansas and Northwest, including Nebraska. Minnesota and
Dakota. The yield of the census year (1879i was 4^9.479.505 bush-
els. In that year, Illinois. Ind'ana. Ohio. Michigan. Minnesota
and Iowa each produced over thirty million bushels; the total
yield of those six States was somewhat more than half that of the
whole country. In 1887 the total was verv nearly the same (456,-
329,000 bushels), but the distribution of tn is yield was somewhat
different. There were in that year also six State-'^ producing each
more than thirty million bushels. Of these six. four are among
those included im a similar category for the year 1879 Michigan
and Iowa have dropped out of that list, and Dakota and Califor-
nia must be inserted in their places.* The.-^e six Slates, as before,
produce almost exactly half the entire yield of the country. What is
more remarkable is, that Dakota, which in 1879 only figured with a
produce of 2.x30,'2.S9 bushels, appears in 1817 as furnishing no
less than 52.l06.00i) bushels, or more than one-tenth of the whole
crop of this cereal Other States of importance in 1887 were Mis-
souri. Iowa and iVIichignn.each of which produced between twenty
and thirfy millions of bushels; and Nebraska. Oregon, Pennsyl-
vania, Wisconsin, Kentucky and New York, each of which pro-
duced between ten and twenty millions of bushels.
In the tabular statement of the yield of wheat for the year 1887,
as given by the Department of Agriculture, forty-two States and
Territories appear as producing more or less of this cereal, but the
quantity grown south of Kentucky and Virginia is very small.
The yield of the Gulf States is entirely insignificant, Florida and
Louisiana not appearing at nil in the list: and that of New_ Eng-
land is ciiually unimportant, the whole produce of that section of
the country being in that year only 74.547 bushels.
The following table gives the production of wheat, total value,
value per bushel, and amount exported for each of the years,
1880-87:-
Total produc-
Total value
.\v. value per
Amt. e.\port-
Tear.
tion.
of
bushel
ed.
fBu-h-l.^i 1
crop
fin cents).
(Bushels.)
1880....
49^..i)9.«ilS
8474.201.850
95.1
186,321,514
1881....
383.2-0.(ipO
4.56,850.427
119.3
121,892.389
18S2....
.iOi.lSo.i;!)
414,602,125
88.2
147.811,316
1883....
421,086.160
383.649.272
91.0
111.534.182
18S4....
512.76.^.000
330.862,260
64.5
132,570.3(C
1885....
3i7.112.000
275.320.391/
77.1
94,.565,791
1886....
4.57.218,000
314.226,020
68.7
1.53,804,970
1887
4oii .3''0 000
310 612,960
68 1
Aver'ge
448,815,699
373.794,413
83.3
135,500,076
The e.'tiiuate of the AiiricuHural Department of .the yield of
wheat for the year 1888 is 415,868,000,
The Ecrass crop is well under.«tood to be the greatest of all the Gr.'i>3
crops of the United States. Altogether, in ndilitinn to the very and hay.
large amount con.sumed from the ground during the grazing sea-
* The yield of California remained nearly the same in 1887 that
it was in 1879. In the foriiier year it was a trifle over thirty mill-
ions; in the latter a trifle under that amount.
iRRlCCLTURE.J
UNITED STATES
825
- 'n. the value of the harvested hay reaches nearly to that of the
Treat -St of the cereal crops. The following statidties are pre-
euted: —
The area mown io 1879 was 30.631.054 acres: in 1880. 36.5<'l.fi>*8
■: es. The value of the hay cut in the latter yoar wa,-^ 353,437.699.*
.n one State (New York) the value amouuted to ovt-r fifty millions
-t dollars: in one (Pennsylvania}, to over thirty and let-s thitn
forty millions: in three States (Illinois. Ohio and Iowa), t^ over
:'.venty and less ihau thirty millions.
The i;r&<s and hav producing^ industry decreases in importance
as we go from the North toward the South. Thus, the thirteen
States in each of which (in lS7i') more than a million of acres were
mown are all north of the panilklof 37°; and all but two {Missouri
and Kansas) north of 39°, excepting very small fractions of Ohio,
Indiana and Illinois.
A» mal^ The number and value of the animals on farms in the year 1886
iiH ( y prod- was as follows:—
"' ^' Number. Value.
Horses 13.172.936 $046,096,154
Mules 2,191,727 174.853.563
Milch cows 14,S56.414 366.252.173
Osen and other cattle S4.37S,36:^ 611,750.520
Sheep 43.5t4.755 89.279.926
Hogs 44.^46,525 220.811,082
The importance of the crop of Indian com has given a great de-
velopment to the business of fattening swine, and an average of
ibtiut fifteen per cent, of this production has. daring the past
twenty-seven yea^s, b?en exported. The average value of "hog
products'' (live hogs, bacon, hams, pork and lard) exported has
been, during the years 18S1-S7. €73,671.607 per annum, as against
St;5.13>.49« in the decade 1871-80.
The statistics of dairy products given in the Agricultural Report
ot ;h- CensuN uf i88(J for the year 1S79 are presented in a very con-
densed form, as follows: —
Milk sold, or sent to butter and cheese
factories . . - 530,129.755 gals.
Butter made on farms . 777,250,287 lbs.
Cheese made on farms 27,272.489 lbs.
The very great extent and importance of the poultry industry
in the United States is made apparent by the following statement
of facts gathered by the census of 1880:—
Bamvard poultry on hand, June 1. 1880.. . 102.272.135
Other poultrv on hand June 1, 1880 23,235.187
Eggs produced in 1879 456,910.916
At twelve cents a dozen, the annual value of the egg product to
' the farm would reach nearly 855,0('0.000, and the vajue of the fowls
consumed as food may fairly be estimated at S20,000,fi00. The aver-
age yield of eggs per fowl is fully twice as great in the Northern
SUTes as it is in the Southern.
Cotton. The cotton production of the United States is of great impor-
tance, both from the extent to which this material i::; manufact-
ured within the country, and because it is the first on the list in
value among the exports.
_ Cotton is mentioned in the records of the Colony of South Caro-
lina as early as 1664. and a small quantity was exported in 1747.
The invention of the cotton-gin by Eli Whitney, in 1794, was fol-
lowed by a rapid development of the cotton-raising business
throughout th? Southern States. The first crop of sea-island cot-
ton was raised in 17w, from seed that came either from the Baha-
ma orBarbadoes Islands.
The total production of the country in the year 1879 is given by
the census of 18?n at 5.7.37.257 bales, of 375 pounds; this having
been assumed to be the weight of the bale, in 1879— the average
proportion of seed to fibre, or lint, in the crop as it comes from the
field being given as two to one. The stated number of bales is
?quivalent. therefore, to l,;i82,599 tons (of 2.000 pounds) of lint or
fibre, and 2.725.197 of seed.
This production was divided among the States as follows:
Field. Av. Product
per acre.
Bales. Fraction of bale.
Mississippi 9.55,808 0.46
Georgia 814.441 0.31
Texa.^ 803,642 0.37
Alabama 699,654 0 30
Arkansas 60S.256 0.5S
South Carolina 622.548 0..3S
Louisiana 508,569 0.59
North Carolina SS9.598 0.44
Fennossee 330,644 0.46
Florida .54.997 0.22
Missouri 19,733 0.60
Indian Territory 17.000 0.49
Virginia 11.000 0.46
Kentucky 1,.367 0.51
Total 5.7;i7.257gen. av.0.40
From the above t»!;le it will be seen that the limit of profitable
cultivation of cotton is pretty sharply drawn at about the parallel
of 37°; the priduction of Virginia and Kentucky— the southern
border of woich States is in the latitude .36°30'— being exceedingly
small. Tho production of Missouri is limited to a highly fertile
* /iii9 includes only hay cut on farms, and not that cut on
public lacds and lands of non-residents-
region lying in the extreme southeastern portion of the State?
while that of Kentucky pertains to the country lying ad jacent to
^Veste^n Tennnessee and the rich bottom-lands alung tht- Missis-
sippi River. It does not appear that any cotton is produced north
of the Ohio River.
According to Professor E. W. Hilgard. Special Agent of the Cen-
sus of isSu. in charge of the subject of Cotton Production, the
high production of Mississippi is due in part to the great fertility
and large area ot the **bottora-land" along the Mis^issillpi River
within the limits of that StJite, and in larger part to the ttrtility
of the * uplands." or table-land bordering the Mississipi)i bluff,
and the interior "prairie-belts." These favorable conditions have
as a result that cotton culture is the one pur.-uit to which the pop-
ulation of this State devotes itself. It is rather great natural ad-
vantages than skill and industry which give Mississippi the first
place in the production of cotton. Professor Hilgard thinks thai
by enlarging the area of tillable land in the Yazoo bottom, by sim-
ple exclusion of the overflows of the Mississippi, without any
change in the methods of culture, the produce ot the State might
be raised to two and a quarter millions of bales;. and that with
improved cultivation the production might be brought up to five
millions, so that under these conditions Mississippi alone could
produce the entire crop now grown in the United States.
Georgia stands second in total production among the States,
but the average production per acre is but two-thirds that of Mis-
sissippi. The area of what would be call* d in the last-named State
first and second class cotton soil is in Georgia quite limited-far
more sn than is the case in the neighboring State of Alabama ; yet
the former State is slightly in advance of the latter in the average
product per acre. The high position of Georgia as a cotton r-roduc-
ing State is due therefore, not to natural advantages, but to better
cultivation of th-? soil, the use of fertilizers, and the thrift of an
industrious population.
Texas— much the largest in area of the cotton producing States,
and also slightly larger in population than any of the oth'^r Gulf
States— stands third on the list of total production. In the average
product per acre it is among the very lowest. This fact seen-s to be
due, in large part at least, to the position of Texaj* in reference
to precipitation. In this State the total amount of rainfall is
considerably less than in the other Gulf States, owing to h< posi-
tion in reference to the prevailing mnds; and thf dimiraition of
rainfall is rapid as we recede from the coast. The precipitation is
largest in the extreme northeastern portion of theSta»-9. and here
—north of the 3'Jd parallel and east of the 98th mer:idi.'in— more
than half the cotton product of the Srate is grown. The fact
that Texas is so much larger than the other cotton producing
Statesmust also be borne in mind in connection with its position
as the third oc the list. It has. in fact, an area luf "e than five
times as great as the average area of the six other pri iC'pal catton
States.
Alabama is naturally as well suited for tpe growth ^f cotton as
the two States adjacent to it on the east and west, (ieorgis and
Mississippi; audits position as fourth on the list, and as inferior
to both these States, is consiiered by Professor Hflgard to be
due to the fact that Mississippi is still within the period of the
iiist flush of fertility, while (Georgia has reached the stage where
her fields are being renovated by the use of fertilizers; while the
soil of Alabama has begun to be exhausted, but this exhaustion
hns not yet proceeded so far that the cultivators realize ^he neces-
sity of making good this defieiencvby proper modes of cultivation,
as is done to a certain extent in (Georgia.
In South and North Car jlina the average cotton production per
acre is high as compared T.-ith that of Alabama and_ Georgia, and
in the ciseof North Carolina approaches that of Mississippi itself.
The reason for this condition of things is to be found chiefly in
the introduction of improved methods of culture, and the use of
fertilizers. In South Carolina the so-called sea-island cotton is
produced— a variety of cotton of great value, although small in
anv-innt. the production of it for the year 188U being set down in
the Census Report as 9,966 bales. The finest cotton ever known to
have been produced is the long-stnple cotton of Edisto island,
which sold for two dollars a pound when other cottons were only
bringing nine cents. The islands where this crop is grown lin»
the coa<t, sometimes forming three or four parallel belts, having
their greatest development at the mouth of Broad River, from
which in each direction along the coast they diminish in num-
bers.
AH the important cotton-producing States with the exception
of Arkansas and Tennessee, lie either on the Golf of Mexico or the
Atlantic coa^t ; but the principal cotton-producing areas in the case
of each of these States areat a consii-lerable distance from the coast.
Thus, in Mississippi by far the greater portion ot the area planted
in cotton lies in the northern and western part of the State,
while in the extreme south there is an area where cotton culture is
either very subordinate or practically non-existent: nor is this de-
crease of cotton culture accompanied by a corresponding increase
of some other pi-oduction. In Louisiana an obvious fact— ren*
dered apparent by a glance at the map showing the relative areas
given to cotton culture in the State— is the decrease of cotton cul-
ture as we advance southward. In Alabama the central prairie
region, or black-soil belt, a narrow strip of country only about
twenty-five miles wide, running east and west through the centre
of th? State, more than a hundred miles from the coast, produces
forty pvr cent of the entire cotton crop. Adiaccnt to this particu-
larly rich belt on the north and south is a belt of less bu* .^i...
iarae productiveness, making the total width of thecentrr cotton
belt about seventv-five miles; and here at least sixty per cent, of
the cotton of the State is raised. In Georgia the principal cotton-
ppoducing belt runs nearly parallel with the coast, and at a dis-
tance of from one hundred to one hundred and fifty mile.*; f:*om it«
A similar condition of things is clearly indicated in both KrTtV
and South Carolina.
Georgia a:
a cotton
producing
State.
Texas.
Alabama
South end
North
Carolina.
82n
UNITED STATES
[AGlilCULTURE.
On comparing the facts here stated with the position of the
isoihermai and isohyetal curves in the region where cotton is
grown, it will be seen that nearly the entire production of cotton
com s troin the area included between the isothermals ot 60*^ and
eS'^. and there is none cultivated in any region of lower mean an-
nual temperature than 56^. It alj^o ii|)pi ars that the cotton-pro-
dueing area is one of comparatively large precii-itation, being no-
wh'-re le.-s than thirty-eight inches, and generali.v consid'?rabIy
over that amount; imd also thiii this precipitation is pretty uni-
foriuully distributed throughout the year. From this it is seen
th;it thi^ climatic conditions favoring the growth of cotton are of
such a nature as to limit its succes.^ful production to a compara-
tively small area, differing in this respect materially from some of
th : i'lh'-T staples of the country, especially Indian corn and wheat.
It will also be evident that the conditi(tns existing on the Pacific
CO St d J not favor the successful cultivation of cotton in that
region.
T.iblc of liie lullowing table exhibits the production of cotton and the
C 'tton amount exportedfor each year from IS80 to 1887. The average an-
froduction, nual yield during the twenty years previous to 1861 was l,';3.i,000,-
OVv pounds; during the twenty-three years from 18(55 to 1886 it was
2.*207,un0.000 pounds— an increase of 6.5.3 percent. During the
p.'!i tad 18S3-87 the average was 2,036,345,3.55 pounds, or a little less
than the average of the years 1865 to 86:—
K'-ntucky
t hn'^n
pr du -ing
bctte.
Rice,
Year,
Production in Pounds
Exports iu Pounds.
188U
3.199,822,682
2,588,286,636
3,405,070,410
2,757,544,422
2,742,966,011
3,I82.:i50..53)
8 1.57,378 443
3.300,000.000
2.190.928.772
lh81
1.739.975.981
1882
2.208.075.U62
1883
1,862,572,.530
18S4
l,891,a59 472
1885
2,058.037,444
1886
2.169.4.57.330
18S7*. -
2.200.™iO,O0O
Approximate
The climatic conditions under wliich tobacco cau be raised seem
to be quite variable, since more or less of this crop is furnished by
almost every State in the Union. The yield of the extreme .Southern
and extreme Northern States i<. however, very small : as (in 1879),
of .Maineouly 250pounds; of Oregon, 17.326; of New Mexico, 890;
of Louisiana, 55,954.
The largest tobacco-producing State is Kentucky, with 171,120,-
784 pounds in 1879. according to the census of 18S0, Next
cornea Virginia, with 79,958,868: then Pennsylvania, 36,943,272;
Ohio, 34,735,235; Tennessee, 29,365,052; North Carolina, 26,986,213;
Maryland, 26,082,147; Missouri, 12.015.6.J7; Wisconsin. 10.608.423.
From this it is evident that the culture of tobacco is
carried on most successfully in th.^ Middle Atlantic States
and those bordering on the Ohio River, diminishing gradu-
ally in this latitude westerly, and having no importance in
the extreme Western States. The mean temperature of the chief
tobacco-producing area is indicated by the statement that it lies
between the isothermals ot 52° and 60^. As regards preciidtation.
a somewhat moi-t climate seeni'j to be required, and there is little
tobacco raised where the rainfall nverag.'s less than thirty-eight
inch?s. The isothermal of thirty-two inches seems to be the limit
beyond which it cannot pass. The total yield of the United
St'ites in the year 1S79 w.is 472.661.159 pounds, having an estimated
value as raised, in th^. producers' hands, of S.")!. 104.870,
Tile production of tobacco in 1886 was about eleven per cent,
lar^-er than in 1879— namely. 532.537.000 pounds. The relative
rank of the .States in the production of this crop was almost ex-
actly the same at the two periods. Kentucky and Virginia to-
gether furnished in 1886 more than half the total, or 2'i5,104,000
pounds. The entire value of the tobacco raised in 1886 was
«39,46S,21S.
The production of rice for the year 1879 as returned by the cen-
sus of iSSO was as follows; —
Pounds.
Alabama 810,889
Florida 1,294,677
Georgia 25,369,687
Louisiana 23,188.31 1
Mississippi 1.718.951
North Carolina .5.609.101
South Carolina 52,077,515
Te.\a8 62,152
Average yield per acre,
514
608
725
652
491
517
664
186
Total 110,131,373 gen. av. 632
The pro(iuction of sugar from the sugar-cane is extremely small
as comi>ared with the consumptionof this article. Louisiana is
thT only State of any importance in this connection, although a
small (lu-inritv of sugar is made in each of the following .States:
Georgia. Florida. Texas. Alabama. Mississippi and .South Carolina.
The total production in the year IS79. as returned by the census of
1880. was— of sugar. 178,872 hog.-heads, and of molasses, 10,.573,273
gallons, of which Louisiana furnished 171,706 hogsheads and 11.-
696,218 gallons.
The census of 1880 gives the following statistics of the produc-
tion for that year of sugar and molasses from sorghum and the
""ftp's- r, ., ■
t Sugar Molasses.
I Sorghum 12.792Ibs. 28.444.202 gals.
i Maple 36,.576.061 1.796.048
The princirial production of sorghum molasses is in the .States of
Wisouri. Tenne--see. Kentucky, llliuois, and Iowa; that of maple
bugrir. in Vermont and New York, in each of which States the
jproituc was over lO.oiio.onO pounds.
I'lie foll'iwin^ additional facts in regard to the agriculture of the
United States are condensed and arranged from the volume en- General
tided " Statistics of Agriculture," in the Census Report for 1880:— summaiy.
1870, 1880.
Total number of farms 2,659,985 4,008.907
The term " farm." as here used, is understood to mean a tract
of not less than three acres, unless $500 worth of produce has
actually been sold off from it during the year, and owned or
leased by one man and cultivated under his care: —
Total area of United States in acres 1,856.108.800
Number of acres in farms 836.081.835
1860. 1870. 1880.
Proportion of unimproved land in farms
to improved, in percentage 59.9 53.7 46.9
Of the 4.008.907 farms returned. 74 per cent were cultivated by
their owners. 8 per cent by tenants on basis of fixed money rental. •
and 18 per cent by tenants paying a share of the product or rent.
The total value of the farms of the United States, including
land, buildings and fences, is given by the census of 1880 at
$10,197,096,776; and the estimated value of all farm productions
sold consumed, or on hand, in 1879, was $2,12,.540.927.
The following tabular statement, from the volume of the Census
Report of 1880, entitled " .Statistics of Agriculture," and published
in 18s;i, presents a resume of the principal facts connected with J
the agricultural interests of the country, so far as concerns the
amounts or values of the different products: —
Condensed Tabular View of Agriccltuhal Products cbieflt Tabular
IN THE Year 1879, arranged from thf. Census Report, Volume statement.
entitled ■■ Statistics of Aokichlture," published 1883.
Number oi farms 4.008,907
Value of farms, including land, fences, and
buildings $10,197,096,776
Estimated value of farm products for 1879. . $2,212,540,927
Wo.jI produced 210,681,751 pounds
Milk (not including that sent to butter or
cheese factories) 530,129.755 gallons
Butter (including that made'on farms and in
factories) 806,672,071 pounds
Cheese (made on farms and in factories) 243,157,850
Barley 43,997,495 bushels
Buckwheat 11,817,327
Indian corn 1,754.591,676 "
Oats 407,858,999 "
Rve 19,831,595 "
Wheat 469,483.137 "
Cotton 5.7,55..%9 bales
Flaxseed 7.170,951 bushels
Flaxstraw 421.098 tons
Flax fibre 1,665.546 pounds
Hemp 5.025 tons
Sugar (sugar-cane) 178,872 hhds.
Molasses (sugar-cane) 16,573,273 gallons
Sugar( sorghum) 12,792 pounds
Molasses (sorghum) 28.444,2112 gallons
Sugar (maple) 36.576.061 pounds
Molasses (maple) 1.796.048 gallons
Iltiv mown 35,150,711 tons
CloVer-seed 1,922,982 bushels
(irass-seed 1,317.701
Eggs 456.910.916 dozen
Honey 25.743.208 pounds
Wax l,105.l»9
Rice 11II.131..S73
Tobacco 472.661.157 "
Potatoes. Irish 169.458.539 bushels
Potatoes, sweet 33.378.693
Orchard products (sold or consumed) 850.876.1.54
Market-garden products $21,761,250
Hops 26.546.378 pounds
Broom com 29.480.1ii6
Peas 6.514.977 bushell
Beans 3.075.0.50
Wood, amount cut 51,442,624 cords
Forest products, value of all consumed or
sold $95,774,735
The following general summary presents in one table the esti-
mated quantities, numberof acres cultivated, and aggregate value
of the principal crops of the country in the year 1886: —
Products.
Quantity.
No.of Acres
Value,
Indian corn
Whe;it
Rye
Oats
Barley
Buckwheat
Potatoes
1,6&5,441,000 bushels
457,218,000
24,4-89,000
024,134,000
.59,428,000 "
11,869,000
168,051,000 "
75,694,208
36,806,184
2,129,918
23,658,474
2,652,9.57
917.915
2,287.136
$610,311,000
314,226,020
13,181,310
186,137.930
31,840,510
6,465.120
78,441,940
Total
Tobacco
Hay
3,010,630,000 bushels
532,.570,onO pounds
41,796,499 tons
6,445,864 hales
144,146.792
750,210
36,501,688
18,454,603
$1,240,603,850
39,468,218
353,437,699
257,295,327
Grand total
199,853,293
Sl.890.805.094
MANCFACTURES.]
UNITED
MANPFACTtBES.
The most important faots connecteii with the iua«ufaeturing in-
terests of the Cnited Matts, as revealed by the census of 1^0 and
those of the preceding decades, may be stated, in the most con-
den-ed form, as follows; —
Fint, a table is given showing certain of the principal items
cooi.ected with manafaetures iu the form of totals for the whole
Vuited Slates, for the three census years 1860, 1870, and 1880:—
Tabular Statement of Maxtfactdres in the United States.
llumber of Establish-
ii.euts
( apiial Invested
f \ eraire Number of
Han.ls Employed
Males above 16 years. .
Feii;ales above 15 yrs.
Children and Youths
lo'al am't. paid in
w>ii-esdurin{ the year.
Value of Materials used.
Value of Products
1860.
140.433
$1,009,855,715
8378.878,966
1,031,605,092
1,885,861,676
1870.
1880.
252,148
$2,118,208,769
1,615.598
323.770
114,628
$775,.584,343
2,488,427.242
4.232,325,442
253,852
2,790,272,606
2,019,035
531,639
181,921
$947,953,795
3,396,823.549
5,369,579,191
The prop.trtion in which the various branches of manufacture
are geographically distributed over the country, according to the
census of 1880. is shown by the following percentage statement:—
Table OF Geographical Distribution of Manxfactdees is
the United States.
Propor-
tion of
total
Area.
Number
of EMab-
lish-
ments.
Amount
of Cain-
tal
invested
Hands
Em-
ployed.
Wages
Paid.
Gross
Product
N. Atlantic
5.6
44.87
61.94
62.23
64.33
59.64
S. Atlantic
9.4
10.16
5.89
7.59
4.99
5.26
N. Central
25.5
34.33
25.78
24.39
24.86
28.94
S. Central
20.3
7.55
3.75
3.85
311
3.47
\V. (Cordil-
leran).
39.4
3.09
2.64
1.94
2.71
2 69
Next may follow a statement of the various most extensive
inaiiufaoturing industries arranged in the order of their impor-
tan e, with reference to the value of their products. In this table
all branches of manufacture are included in which the total pro-
duciioo exceeds 840,000,000 in vaJue:—
Table of I>ditidual Manxfacturinq Industries ix the United
States, according to the Census of 1880.
Products.
Flouring and Grist Mill Products —
Slaughtering and Meat Packing
Iron and Steel
Woolen 'tf all classes
Lumber, Sawed
Foundry and Machine Shop Prod-
ucts
Cotton Goods
Clothing. Men's
Boots and Shoes
Snjjar and Molasses, Refined
Leather. Tanned
Liquors, Malt
Carpentering
Printing and Publishing
Furniture
Leather, Curried
Agricultural Implements
Mixed Textiles
Bread and other Bakery Products
Carriaj^es and Wagons
TobacC'j, Cigars, etc
Paper
Tobacco. Chewing, Smoking and
Snuff
Tin ware. Copper ware, and Sheet-iron
ware
Blacksmithing
Liquors, Distilled
6ilk and Silk Goods
Number of
Number of
Establish-
Hands em-
ments.
ployed.
24,338
58.407
S72
27.297
1,005
140,978
2,689
161,557
25,708
147,956
4.958
145,357
1.U05
185.472
6,166
160.813
.17,972
133.S19
49
5.S.57
3,105
23.SI2
2.191
26,220
9.184
54,1 3S
3,467
5.8.478
5,227
59,304
2,319
11,0.53
1,913
39.TS0
470
43..'!T3
6,396
22.4SS
3,841
45.594
7,145
bxm
692
24,422
477
32,756
7,595
26.248
28,101
34.526
844
6„502
382
31,337
STATES
827
Products.
Amount
paid in
Wages.
Value
of
Materials.
Value
of
Prodaots.
Flouring and Grist Mill
Products
$17,422,316
10,508,530
55.476,785
47.389,087
31.845,974
65,982,133
45,614.419
45,940.353
50,995,144
2.875,032
9,204,243
12,198,0,53
24,582,077
30..531,C:57
23,695,080
4,845,413
15,359,610
13,316,753
9.411.328
18.988 615
1S,4H4..=62
8,525.355
6,419,024
10.722.974
11,126.001
2,663.967
9,146,705
$441,515,225
267.7.38,902
191,271,150
164,371,5,51
146.155.385
10334.5,083
113.765.537
131.363.282
114,966,575
144,698,499
85,949,'.i07
56,836,.500
51,621.120
32.460.395
35,860,206
69,306,509
31,.531,170
37,227,741
42,612.027
30.597.1 86
29.577.8.^3
39,951,297
34.397,072
25.232.281
14.572.363
27,744.245
22,467,701
$505,185,712
303 562 413
Slaughtering and Meat
Packing
Iron and Steel
296.557,685
Woolen of all classes..
Lumber, Sawed
Foundry and Machine
Shop Products
Cotton Goods
267,2,52.913
233,268,729
214,-578,468
210,950 383
Clothing, Men's
Boots and Shoes
Sugar and Molasses.
Refined
209,548.460
196,920,481
155,484,915
Leather. Tanned
Liquors. Malt
113,348,336
101,058,385
94,152,139
Printing and Publish-
ing
90.789.341
77,815,725
Leather, Curried
Agricultural I m p 1 e-
71,&51.2W
68.640.486
Mixed Textiles
Bread and other Bak-
ery Products
Carriages and Wagons.
Tobacco, Cigars, etc...
66.221,703
65.824,896
64,951,617
63,979.575
55,119,914
Tobacco, Chewing.
Smoking and Snuff
Tin ware, Cupj.er ware
and Sheet-iron ware
Blacksmithing
Liquors, Distilled
Silk and Silk Goods
52,793,056
48.0<.!6,03S
43.774,271
41,1:6:3 663
41,033,045
The remarkable concentration of the manufacturing interests of
the United States in the extreme northeastern portion of the
country will be evident from the above talde. New England. New
York, New Jersey, and Pennsylvania, embracing or.Iya little over
one-t«entiethof the area of the whole country, produce six-tentha
of the total gross product of its manufactures. Similar condi-
tions are shown in contrasting the northern with the southern
sections of the country. The North Atlantic and North Central
divisions, with thirty-one per cent of the total area, furnish over
eighty-tight per cent, of the gross product. The Western or Cor-
dilleran region, with nearly forty per cent, of the total area of the
country, furnishes only a little over two and a half per cent, of ita
manufactures.
The Census Report of 1882 gives a great mass of statistics m
reference to the manufacture of cotton in the country, from which
the following are selected as representing the most essential feat-
ures of this extremely important business: —
Number of spindles 10,653,435
Number of looms 225,759
Bnles of cotton consumed 1,.570,344
Number of persons employed 172..544
\Vuges paid $42,040,510
These are said to be the final figures of the specific manufactura
of cotton yarn and woolen fabrics, includingsome cotton hosiery;
and by the term "specific " is meant cotton " worked into a fabria
known .md sold under that name."
Including the cotton used in mixed goods and upholstery, tna
total consumption is estimated at 1.760,000 bales. The total num-
ber of operatives employed, including those engaged in print and
dye works and bleachcries, and also in manufacturiLg special
fabrics in which cotton forms a part, is 198.338. The operatives
employed in the specific cotton mills are thus classed as to age and
Men 59,685
Boys.'.'..'.'.'.'.'.'.'.'.'..' 15,107
W omen 84.539
Girls 13.213
Total 1T2,544
The average wages earned in the cotton mills amount, for 300
davs in the year, to 81 cents per day* Since 1840 the hours of labor
have been reduced from 13 or 14 to 10 or 11, and the average earn-
ings per hour are now more than double what they were at that
The manufacture of cotton is carried in nearly all the Atlantic,
Central, and Southern States, but is principally developed in and
near Massachu.iitts. This State alone consumed considerably
more cotton in ISSil than all the t.jher States outside of New
England. Of 1,570.344 bales consumed in " specific " cotton manu-
facture in the country, in 1S.S0, l.U'9.49S were taken by New Eng-
land. Massachusetts and Rhode Island, bavins together about
ten thousand square miles of area, consumed 742.:i37 bales, or
nearly half the whole consumption of the I'DiTed States.
.*ome cotton cloth is still made by hand in the mountainou:
sectionsof the South, some two or three hundred thousand person*
828
UNITED STATES
[foreign commerce.
being supplied in this wsy. As a menpure of tbeir work, it is snid
by Mr. Atkinson, iSpecial Agent of the Census in charge of the
subject of Cotton, that "two carders, two spinners, and one
weaver could produce eight yards of coarse cntton cloth in a day
f)f ten hours." To this he adds: "Of the whole force engaged in
the specific cotton manufactures, about 100,000 are employed on
goods for home consumption. It would take 16,00,0110 to make the
Fame number of yards by hand-work, and the cloth would be of a
far different kind— more durable, it is true, but coarse and un-
sightly."
The following table will furnish the necessary data for an un-
derstanding of the importance of the petroleum business in the
United States:—
Pro duction
in Barrels
of 42
Gallons.
E.xports. in gallons.
Year
end-
June
Illuminat-
ing Oil.
Crude Oil.
Total.
Total Val-
ue of Ex-
ports.
1864
2,478,709
12,791.518
9.980,654
23,210,369
$10,782,689
1865
2,424.905
12.722.005
12,293,897
25.496,849
16.563,413
1866
3,165,700
34.255.921
16.057,943
50.987.341
24,830,887
1867
3,591.900
62.686.657
7.344.248
70.255,481
24,407.642
1868
3,613.709
67,909,961
10.029,659
79,456.888
21,810,676
1869
4.046.558
84.403,492
13,425,566
100,636,684
31,127,433
1870
4.411,016
97.902.505
10.403.314
113,735,294
32,668,960
1871
6,558.775
132,608.9.55
9,859.038
149.892.691
36,894,810
1872
5.842.497
122,539,575
IS.559,768
14.5,171,583
34,058,390
1873
7,242,343
158,102.414
18.439,407
187,815,187
42,050,756
1874
11,188,741
217,220.504
17,776,419
247.806.4S3
41,245,815
1875
10,083.823
191,551,933
14,718,114
221.955.308
30,078,568
1876
8.823.142
204.814,673
20,520.397
243.660.152
32,915,785
1677
10.822,871
262,441,844
26.819.202
309.198,914
61,789,438
1878
14,738.262
289.214,541
26.9.36.727
338.841.303
46,574,974
1879
16.917.606
331,586,442
25.874,488
378.310.010
40,305,249
18S0
22,382.509
307.325,823
28.297.997
423,964.699
36,218,625
1881
25,805,363
332.283,045
39.934.844
397.660,262
40,315,609
1SS2
23,650,181
488,213,033
41,304,997
559,954,590
51,232,706
18S3
26,062.808
419,821,081
52.712.306
505.931,622
44,913,079
188 1
23,744.924
415,615,693
67.186.329
513,660,092
47,103,248
18S5
21,750,619
458,213,192
61,037,992
574.628,180
50,257,947
1886
22.4u3.744
469,471,451
80,216,763
577,781,752
50,199,844
18S7
25.316,000
4S0.845.811
76,062,875
592,803,267
46,824,933
185S
2.8.249,597
456.417,221
85,E38,725
578.351,638
47,042,409
The relation of materials to product, in the statistics of industry,
needs to be carefully borne in mind ; and for the purpose of throw-
ing light on this subject, the Census Report of 188M, in the volume
devoted to manufactures (published in 1883) groups the manu-
fjictiiring and mechanical industri'-s into four clas-es. as follows:
I. Those industries in which the subject-muttcr is of a distinct
und immediate commercial value, but the property does not reside
in tht? person who treats it; II. Those industries in which the
entire valu'» of the subject-mutter is carried into the value of
•'motcriiils," and appears again in the product, enhanced by the
value of labor, use of capital, rent, freight, etc., but in which the
value ia (smull compared to the cost of labor; III. Industries
which are otherwise under the same conditions as those of the
Becond class, but in which the value of the materials approaches,
or even m<>di-ratrly exceeds, the value of the labor employed, and
becomes thus an important element in the final value of the prod-
uct, enhancing the ai'parent prorluction of the industry in a high
degree; and IV. Industtics in whicti the value of the materials far
exceeds all otlier elrnnnts in the cost of production combined,
although, in fact, ci)mp:iratively little value has been added by
these operations, and only a small number of arti>!ans or laborers
pupported. The following tabic is intended to illustrate the rela-
tion of materials to product, indicated above:—
- (S ^ '/
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* All the industries tabulated were assigned entire to one c^aBl
or another, according to the principles indicated in the text. Tha
lines of division taken for the second, third, and fourth classes
were: (1) wh<.'re the value of the materials is less than two-fifthsof
that of th'- ultimate product; (2) whore the value of the materials
is from two-fifths to four-fifths of that of the ultimate product;
and (3) where the value of the materials is over four-fifths of that
of tho ultimate product.
t In this table the same groups of industries in 1870 are com-
pared with each other. The table differs from that contained in
the volume on Manufactures of thn Ninth Census and in the
Compendium of that census in this, that the mining and fishing
interests, and the statistics of a few industries wliich form the
Hubjoet of special reports in the census of 1880 are, for purposes
of comparison, excluded herefrom.
STATISTICS.]
UNITED STATES
829
ViLUKs ix Dollars ok the Pboddcts of Domestic Agriculture
Exported from the United .States for the Years
18S6. 1S87 AND 1888.
1886.
1887.
1888.
12.518,660
718,651
90,6^,216
125,846,558
3.3li8,.3ll8
1,949,990
205,561,916
9,255,170
27,158,457
8.011,666
10..59S,362
810,670
92,783,296
165,768,602
2,669,965
],9(J7,409
206,300,059
9,011,451
25,948,277
7,275,647
12,885,000
924,136
Provisions, including Meat 1
and Dairy Products /
93,058,705
127,191.687
3,510,208
Seeds
1,516,690
1 Textiles. Unmanufactured..
Vegetable Oils and Oilcake.
223,022,1'32
8,45S,608
21,936,084
All Other Agricultural Pro- 1
ducts /
8,356,746
1 Total Value of AgricuItu-1
ral Products J
484,954,595
523,073,798
.500,840,086
Total Value of all Exports 1
of Domestic Merchandise. J
665,964,852
703,022,923
683,862,104
Percentage Value of Agri-1
cultural Products J
73.82
74.40
73.23
From a comparison of the facts given in the various tables hero*
with presented, it will be evident that, with the exception of those
items called "manufactures" in the Census Reports which are not
properly manufacturts, but the conversion of articles of food into
a more suitable and convenient form for shipment to foreign
countries— as, for instance, slaughtering of animals, and grinding
and packing of wheat in barrels— the manufactures jt the United
iStates are intended and used tor homo consumption. The amount
of these exported is very small as compared with the total of the
exports.^ There is no one manufactured article of which tho
United States has anything like a monopoly abroad, or which
greatly predominates in importance as an article of export over
any other article.
The following data, compiled from the reports of the Bureau of
Statistics, will give a sulficiently complete and comprehensive view
of the nature of the imports into the United States.
The imported articles, including those admitted free of duty and
the dutiable, are thus classified: —
A. Articles of food and live animals. B. Articles in a prude
condition which enter into the varioxts processes of domestic indus-
try. C. Articles wholly or partially manufactured ^r use; as
materials In the manxifactures and mechanic arts. D. Articles
manufactured ready for consumption. E. Articles of voluntary
use, luxuries, etc. The following table gives the amount in value
of each of these classes imported during the years 1884 and 1885,
and the average fur the five years (1881-85); also the ad valorem
rate of duty on the ihitiable articles of each class, and the per-
centage relation of the ad valorem duty to the entire duty col-
lected:—
1884 and 18S5.
Average of Years 1881-85.
Tear.
Free of Duty.
Dutiable.
Ad Valorem
Rate on
Duitable.
Per Cent.
of Total.
Duty.
Free of Duty.
Dutiable.
Ad Valorem
Rate on
Dutiable.
Per Cent.
of Total.
Duty.
18S4 A.
1885
S92.589.286
86,559,991
$132,136,969
107,706,.369
44.75
67.28
31.15
34.79
$86,851,648
86,066,234
$130,072,238
129,907,732
44.90
46.41
29.47
30.57
1884 B.
1885
94.039,.567
82,507,747
44.4.57,174
37,101,595
26.82
25.48
6.28
5.33
97,895,975
95,001,401
54,358,668
49.163,935
29.96
28.57
8.21
7.12
1884 C.
1885
12,186,427
11,185,487
69.774,216
61,045,053
26.48
27.88
9.73
9.61
11,719,623
11,850,883
66,492,197
66,169,652
20.42
29.01
9.87
9.73
1881 D.
1885
ll,oa5,112
10,617,405
123,205,489
108,636,576
47.54
48.28
30.86
29. as
10,207,857
10.504,966
135.602,292
133,155,050
47.22
47.52
37.31
32.08
1884 E.
1585
1,429,873
2,041.604
86,721,276
72,178,227
48.12
50.84
21.98
20.69
1,199,322
1,453,551
78,128,835
79,690,207
J1.C9
50,69
20.14
20.49
Total 1884
$211,280,265
$456,195,194
av. 41.61
100. 00
$207,904,425
$464,634,230
av. 42.06
100.00
•' 1885
192,912,234
386,667,820
45.90
100.00
204,877,035
458,086,576
43.05
100.00
Abolition, 765.
Adams. Pres. Jnc, 754.
Adams, Pres.Jno.Quincy,
761.
Admission of Nebraska,
785.
African Slave trade, 771.
Alabama. 729. 825.
** Alabama "' Claims, 785.
Alaska. 7S5. 815,823.
Algerine War, 759.
Alien and Sedition Laws,
7.54.
Allen. Ethan, 7.39.
American Authors, 769.
Americ:in imports of Iron
and Steel. 814.
American Seamen, im-
pressment of. 753.
Andre, Major. 743.
Annals. 825.
Annexatiuij of TexaSj765.
Antietrtin, Battle of, /78.
Anti-Nfbraska Men, 770.
Appalachian Chain, 795.
Appalachian region. 795.
Area of Great Lakes. 792.
Area of United States, 797
Arkansas. 765.
Army disbanded, the, 744.
Army of the Potomao,778.
Arthur's Administration,
787.
Assassination of Garfield,
787.
Atlanta Campaign. 782.
Atlantic Region, 803.
Atlantic and Gulf Coasts,
803.
Augusta. Georgia, 800.
Australian Ballot Sys-
tem. 7911.
Ball's Bluff.Battle of.776.
Beginning of the Govern-
ment. 752.
Beginning of the Strug-
gle. 738.
Belmont, Battle of, 776.
Bennington, Battle of .742.
Bessemer Steel, 81
Biglow Papers, 767.
Bill of Rights. 7.«.
Bill, the Euib.irgo. 756.
Bismarck. Dak., 8(i0.
Bituminous Coal-fields of
PenD.,810.
Black Hawk War, 763.
Blockade running. 776,
Bonneville and his Par-
ty. 794.
" Border Ruffians. "771.
Border States, 775.
Index.
Boston, 737, 740, 741. 800.
Boston Port Bill, 738.
Braildock's Defeat, 7.33.
Bnmdywine, Battle of,
742.
Brooks and Summer, 771.
Brown. John, 772.
Buchanan, Pres. James,
771.
Bull Run, Battles of , 776,
778.
Bunker Hill, 740.
Burgoyne's Invasion, 742.
Burr's Conspiracy, 756.
Calhoun, John C, 757,
763.
California, 767, 814.
California Fields, 812.
Campaign of 1777. 742.
Campaign of 1778, 742.
Ciinipaigu|of 1779, 742.
763.
Campaigns in the West,
778.
Canada, attack on, 740.
Canby, murder of. 786.
Capital removed, 755.
Carboniferous Age, 794.
Carolina, 729.
Cau>cs of the .\merican
Revolution, 734, 739.
Cedar Creek. 782.
Census, 751. 789.
Chancellorsville, 780.
Charleston, S. C, 800.
Chattanooga, 781.
Chicago, 111., 810.
Chickamauga. 781.
Chinese ImmigrationBill,
788.881.
Civil Rights Bill, 784.
Civil Service Act, 789.
Claims, Court of, 750.
Clay, Henry. 7b', 767.
Cleveland, Pres. Grover,
7S8.
Cliffs, 794.
Climate, 792. 798.
Coal, 789, 809.
Coal-beds, 8u9.
Coast. 791.
Coast of California. 805.
Coast, operations, on the,
776.
Coav-^t ranges, 795.
Colonial Oppression, 735.
Colorado, 815.
Colorings. 794.
Commerce. Foreign, 828,
829.
Commissioners to France,
742.
Compromise, Effects of,
767.
Coinstock Lode, the, 814.
Conftdcracy Organized,
773.
Confederate Cruisers, 781
Confederate Line of De-
fense, 775.
Confederate Finances,784
Congress. Continental,736,
73S, 739.
Connecticut. 729, 730, 746.
Connecticut Compromise,
716.
Conquest of Canada, 734.
Constitution, 745-751.
Constitutional Union
Party, 772.
Conventions of 1852, 769.
Convict Law, 788.
Copper. S!7-
Corinth. 779.
Cornwallis, Lord. 743.
Cost of the Civil War. 7S4.
Cotton. n25. 8*26.
Cotton Gin, the. 760.
Cowpens. Battle of, 743.
Creek War. 758.
Cuba. 769.
Cuniberland.Army of the.
830
UNI T E i) B T A T E H
fu-tcr MntsDcre. 7S6.
I'&kut.n. sli.
I),. vis. .1. fEtTson. 773, 783.
ije<-iaraiirin of Independ-
ence, 741-
l»e Kalb, Baron, 713.
Delaware. 7.S0.
Deuiocratio Party, Split
in the, 772.
Denver. Colo.. SOO.
Detroit, Surrender of, 757
Different Coal-fields, 810.
Difficulties with France,
751.
Discovery and Settlement
of America. 729.
Dispute about Charters,
735,
Douglass, Stephen A.,
77u. 772.
Downfall of the Federal
Partv. 759.
Draft Riots, 781.
Dred 8cutt Decision , 772.
Dutcl! Settlements. 7;W.
Earl.v Discoveries, 7l9.
Kaslerri Kentucky Coal-
field. 811.
Efforts 10 f'jund colonies.
El' itor.al College. 748.
Ei'^ctoral C'>uiraissinn,749
Election of ISfi", 772.
Election of l»h4. 782.
Election of ;S76, 787.
Election of 188(1, 787,
Election of 1884, 78S.
Eleventh Araendmont.754
Emancipation. 779.
Emancipation Proclama^
tion, 779.
Embargo Act. 756.
End of the Dutch Power,
73(1.
English Policy towards
the Colonists. 731.
Era of Good Feeling. 759.
Erie Canal, 76(J.
Eutaw Springs. Battle of
743.
Evacuation of New York,
741.
Executive Departments,
748.
Expedition of Doniphan,
766.
Fair Oaks, Battle of. 778.
Fall of the Confederacy.
7>3.
Federalists and Anti-
Federalists. 7.52.
Federal Jurisdiction. 749.
Filibustering. 769.
Fillmore, Pres. Millard,
767. 768.
First Ten Amendments,
the, 751.
Fishery Question. 785.
FivcF'Mlis. B!ittleof,783.
Florida. 7i9. 75M
Foreign Officers, 742.
Foreign Kelaiions, 777.
Forests of Inteiior. 806.
Forests of North Amer-
ica, 8'):i.
Formation of the Con-
stitution. 744.
Fort Donelson, 777.
Fort DuQiiesnc.7.13.
Fort Erie. Battle of, 758.
Fort Ilfnry,"77.
Fort Sumter, 774.
Fourteenth Amendment,
784.
Fourth Administration,
755.
France. 7;i2. 7XZ. 7.34, 742.
Franklin, Benjamin, 736,
741.
Fredericksburg. 825.
Fremont. ,lnrt. ('..766.771
French and Indian AVar,
7.34.
French Spoliation Claim.
788.
Fugitive criminals. 7.50.
Fugitive slaves, 7.50. 776.
yulton. Robert. 7.56.
Cadsdcn Purchase. 767.
Siige, General. 738.
''arfiold, Pres. Jas. A.,
'87.
Gathcri[^gof Troops.
Gcneial "lopograph.v, 792.
General Winter Storms,
8U2.
Geography and Statistics,
819.
Geological History, 794.
Georgia, 729, 73U, i42, 743,
825.
Germantown, Battle of,
742.
Gettysburg, Battle of,780.
Ciilbert, Sir Humphrey,
729.
Gold and Silver, 814.
Gorges and Ravines, 794.
GovernmentExpeditions,
7(i8.
Government Expenses,
780.
Giant, Ulysses S,, 776,
781. 782. 785.
Greene. General. 743.
Greuville. Lord, 7.i6.
Growth of Colonics. 731.
Guilford. Battle of. 743.
Hamilton and Burr, 756.
Harri.son. Pres. Benj..788.
Harrison, Pres. Wm. H.,
704.
Hartford Convcn1ion,759.
Hay and Grass, 824,
Haves Administration,
"87.
Heniy. Patrick. 736.
Hood in Tennessee, 782.
House of Representa-
tives. 746.
Howe. General, 742.
Hudson Bay Company,
764.
Hurricanes. 802.
Idaho. 815.
Immigration and Popu-
lation. 819.
Imtieaehment of Pres.
Johnson, 785.
Imports. 829,
Indiana, 811.
Indian Troubles, 763.
Indian War. 752.
Insurrection, the Whis-
key. 752.
invasion of Pennsylva-
nia, 780,
Inventions, 768.
luka, Banie of, 779.
Jackson, Battle of, 780.
Jackson. Pres. Andrew,
7.58, 762.
.Jamestown Colony. 729.
Jefferson, Pres. Thomas,
741.7-54,7.55.7.56.
Johnson and Congress,
784,
Jcthnson, Pres. Andrew,
784. _
Judiciary, 749.
Kansas Admitted, 774.
Kansas- Nebraska Bill,
770.
Kearsarge and Alabama,
the, 781.
Key, Francis S., 758.
King George's War, 7.33,
734.
King William's War, 732,
73i.
LaFayette. 742. 761.
Lake Channdain, Battle
of. 7.58.
Lake Erie. Pattlt. of, 7.58.
Lecompton Constitution.
771.
Lexington and Concord.
739.
Lexington. Siejre of. 776.
Liberty, the Spirit of,
731.
Lincoln, Pres. A., 772,
774,783,
Literature, 768,
Livingston, Robert R.,
741.
Long Island, Battle of,
741.
London Company. 729.
Lookout Mountain, 781.
Los Angeles. Cal.. 800.
Louisiana, 7.52, 786.
Louisiana Purchase, 755,
7,56.
Madison's A(iininis(ja-
tiou. 7.J7.
Manufactures, 789, 8'.;7.
March to the Sea, Sher-
man's, 782.
Marquette, Father, 732.
Marshall, Chief Justice,
755.
Marvland. 728. 730.
Maryland Coal-field, 811.
Mason, Jno., 729.
Massachusetts, 729. 730.
McClollan. Geo. B., 776.
Message, the President's.
748.
Mexican War, 766.
Mexico, 766.
Michigan, 765.
Military Condition of the
North. 775.
Military Condition of the
South. 775.
Mineral AVcalth, 789.
MiningBusiness,8(19.816.
Missionary Midge. 781.
Mississippi Basin. 792.
Missouri Comproiuise,761
Mobile, 782.
Monitor and Merrimac,
Monmouth. Battle of ,742.
Monroe. Pn-s. James, 759.
Montana.815.
Mormons, the, 768.
Morris, Rob.Tt. 745.
Mountain KoKions. 792.
Mount Hood, 808.
Mount Shasta.
Movement of Population,
819.
Name of the Field, 809.
Nashville, 782.
National Bank, 753. 759,
779.
Native White Element.
822.
Natural Gas. 812.
Naval Exploits, 7.57.
Negro Soldiers, 780.
Nevada. 7S5. 814.
New Amstr-rdain, 730,
Nlw England, 731.
N cwEngland ^Mountains,
o07.
New Jersey, 7.30, 741.
New Hanij>shire, 729,730.
New Mexico, 766, 815,
New Orleans. La., 732,
758, 778. 8(1(1.
Newspapers, 768.
New States. 789.
New York, 730, 741, 744,
8(j0.
Non-metalliferous Min-
erals, 81(i.
North Carolina, 729, 730,
825.
Northeast Winds, 802.
Northern Pine Belt, 803.
Nullification, 763.
Number of Men in the
Armies of the North
and the South, 783, 7S4.
Office. Rotatiim in. 762.
Ohio Coal-fii Ids, 811.
Ohio t^ompany. 733.
Oklahoma Country, 788.
Ol'l Continental Congress
':vi.
Opposition to the Stamp
Act. 636.
Orders ill Council, 756.
Oregon. 764. 815.
Original and .Appellate
.Jurisdiction. 750.
Origin of PiliticalParties,
7.52.
Ostond Manifesto, 769.
Otis. James. 736.
P,icifi(r Forests. 804.
Pacilic Region. 804.
Panic of 1837. 764.
Paper Currency. 779.
Party Priiiciides. 754.
Peace Congress. 774.
Pennsylvania. 730. 780.
PennsylvaniaAnthracite.
810.
Personal Liberty Laws.
768.
Pelersrmrg. 781,782.
Physical Character, 797.
1 h.vsical Geography and
tHi.ti.-tics.79I.
Pierce's Administration,
7(i9.
Pitt, Wm.j^ 738.
Pittsburg uanding,BattIe
of, 777.
Plains, 792.
Plans of tne South, 773.
Platforms and Terraces,
793
Plattsburg, Battle of, 758.
Plymouth Colony, 729.
Plymouth Company. 7"29.
Political Divisions, 797.
Polk, Jas. K..766.
Ponce de Leon. 729.
Pontiac's War, 734,
Population, 731. 819. 820.
Ports and Harbors, 791.
Powers and Duties of the
President. 748.
Presidents of the United
States. 790.
Princeton, Battle of. 742.
Privileges of Citizens. 750
Production of Rails. 813.
Projectof Separation. 741
Protective Tariffs, 761.
Provinces. 793.
Provisions of the Stamp
Act, 736.
Public Lands, 822.
Puritans, the, 729.
Putnam, Israel, 740, 741.
Qualifications for the
Pre;idencv, 748.
Quebec Act, 738.
tiueenstowu Heights, 757.
Quicksilver, 816.
Races and Language, 791.
Railroads, 760, 789.
Rainfall, 801.
Randolph, Edmund, 752.
Randolph, Peyton. 739.
Refunding the Debt. 787.
Relations of States. 750.
Religious Condition. 731.
Repeal of Stamp Taxes,
788.
Republican Government,
751.
Republican Party of 1792,
753.
Republican Party of 1856,
770.
Uestr ict i ve Policy of Eng-
land. 735.
Resumption Act. 766.
Rhode Island. 729, 730.
Rice. S'26.
Richmond. 782. 783.
Rights of English Sub-
jects, 7.^1.
Rivers. 795.
Rocky Mountains, 793,
Rotation in Office, 762.
Rules for Immigrants, 822
Rye. 821.
Salt, 818.
Sale of Lauds, 745.
Savannah, 742, 782.
Scenograiihical. 8ti7.
Schuyler, Philip, 740.
Scott, Winfield, 768.
" Scrub Race for the
Presidenc: ." 761.
Secession, 773.
Second Continental Con-
gress. 739.
Second Year of the Civil
War, 777.
Sedition Laws. 754.
Senate, the. 746.
Seven Days' Battles. 778.
Seven Pines. Battle of,
778.
Seward. Wm. H., 783.
Sherman. W. T., 776, 781,
782.
Shays' Rebellion, 745.
Siege of Y'orktown. 743.
Sierra Nevada Forests.
805.
Silver. 814, 815.
Slave Power, the, 769.
Slave Trade prohibited,
7.5(i.
Slavery, 760, 701.
Sons of Liberty, 736, 737.
South Carpliua, 736, 737,
8'25.
Southern Pine Belt, SOS.
Soiuh, the, 789.
Specie Circular, 764.
Stamp Act. 736.
State (jovernments, 751.
Steamboats, 760.
Stone Kiver, Battle of,779
Stony Point. 743.
Sub-treasury System,764.
Sugar, 826.
Suuimer Isothermals, 799
Supreme Court, 749.
Supreme Law of the
Land, 751.
.Surrender of Lee, 783.
Surroundings of tireat
Basin, 795.
Swedes in America, 730.
Tariffs. 752, 763.
Taylor. Pres. Zachary,
7ij7.
Te.T Destroyed at Boston,
737.
Tecumseh, 757.
Telegraph, 768.789.
Telephone, 789.
Tenncs.see Coal- fiel.ls. 311
Terms of Office, 749.
Teuuie of Office Bill. 785.
Texas. 765.
The Ajiproaching Con-
flict. 769.
The Atlantic Plains, 796.
The Civil War, 774.
The Cordilleran Region.
793.
The First Blood of the
Civil War, 780.
The Government under
the Constitution. 751.
The Great Basin. 794.
Thermal Springs. s(-9.
Third Year of thfe Civil
War. 780.
Timber. 792.
Tin, 816.
Toljacco, 826.
Topography of the Great
Basin, 795.
Treason, 760.
Treaty of Alliance with
France. 742.
Treaty of Washington,
785.
Trenton, Battle of .741,742
Twelfth Amendmcnt.749.
Tyler, Pres. Jno.. 764.
Uncle Tom's Cabin, In-
fluence of, 769.
I'nioii Flag, the, 740,
United States Bank, 763.
Utah and Arizona, 815.
Van Buren.Pres. Martin,
764.
Valley Forge, 742.
Valley Forests. 805.
Vegetation, 794.
Veto, the Presideiit's.747.
Vicksburg Campaign.780.
Virginia, 729, 73(i.
Virginia Campaign. 778.
Virginia Coal-fields, 811.
Volunteers, the First Call
for. 774.
War for Independence,
the. 739. 744.
Warofl81'2,757.
Washington City. Cap-
ture of. 758.
Washington. 812. 815.
Washington, Pres. Geo.
733.7-10.761.7.53,755.
Waterfalls, 808.
Webster, Daniel, 763.
Whigs. 7(52,
Whi.diy Frauds, 786.
Wilderness. Battles of
the. 781.
W'ilraington, 782.
Wi Ison's Creek. Battle of,
776.
AVinds, 800.
Wyoming, 812. 815.
X. \. Z. Dispatches. 7.54.
Yield of Gold in Califor-
nia. 814.
Yield of Metallic Lead,
816.
York, the Duke of . 730.
Yorktown. 743.
Yosemite Valley, b0».
l^iuc, 816.
U N I — U N I
831
UNIVERSALIS! CHURCH, a religious body in the
United States of America, especially in the New England
States, which has for its distinguishing tenet the docirine
of the final salvation of all souls from sin through Christ.
The pioneers of Universalism in America were Ur George
De Benneville, who taught from 1741 principally in
Pennsylvania, Dr Charles Chauncy, of the First Church,
Boston (notably in Tlw SdUntion of All Men, published in
l"S4r Dr .loseph Huntington. of Coventry, Conn (whose
Calvinism /m;)roifrf was published alter his death m 1796),
John Murray. Elhanan WmLhester. Caleb Rich, and very
specially Rosea Ballou Murray is, however, regaided as
"the father ol Universalisn m America " In 1750 James
Rfellj baa avowed himself a L'niversalist basing bis belief
on a theory rjuiie peculiar Murray who had preached as
a Methodist in Erigiand an.l Ireland was Reli) t moit dia
tinguisheu comert In 1770 he came lo Ainercca. nnd,
under circumsiarices so strange that most ' luversaiisi?
regard them as rondentiai. overcomir.s a -itep lelutt
ance . he preaciifQ at Good Luck New Jersey and 'jrgan-
izea a socieiv 'The Independent <,'hristian Church ' at
Gloucester, .^lassadiuseus Hosea Ballou — a convert from
the Calvinist Baptists— took Tip the* cause in 1790, and
published the work that is regarded by Universalists as
epoch-making, A Treatise on Atonement. The number of
ministers increased, and societies were formed. These in
due time became the constituents of larger organizations,
till a " New England convention " saw occasion, in 1S03, to
adopt a " profession of faith," which in three short articles
avowed belief in the Bible as making known in a Divine
revelation the nature of God, the mission of Christ, the
final holiness of all souls, and the necessity of good works.
In 186G a general convention, composed of delegates from
the State conventions, was incorporated. It has Jurisdic-
tion throughout the United States and Canada. It has a
" Murray fund " of about 8135,000. Under the auspices
of the Universalist Church are the " woman's centenary
association," the " Universalist historical society," several
organized chanties four colleges, three theological schools,
and five academies, — the total value of tbe schools, includ-
ing endowments, being hardly less than 3 million dollars.
It publishes eight periodicals. The Year Book for 1887
gives the following summary. — 1 general convention; 22
State conventions , 945 parishes, 38,429 families ; 696
churches, 35,550 members, 634 Sunday schools, 51,871
members, 789 church edifices, value above indebtedness,
§7,493,927 , 673 clergymen in fellowship and 120 licensed
lay preachers.
r N I V E R S I T I E S'
'.'nginal
freaniug
•fthe
■ -ini-
• f rsity. "
It: l>mi-
iit!on in
medi-
eval
lidies.
THE medi.Trval Latin term un'vtrsilns (from which the
English word " university " is derived} was originally
employed to denote any community or corporation re-
garded under its collective aspect. When used in its
modern sense, as denoting a body devoted to learning and
education, it rcquiied the addition of other words in order
to complete the definition, — the most frequent form of ex-
pression being ■universitas inagistrorum et scholanum" (or
■ disripulorum ' ) In the course of time, probably toward;
the latter part of the I4th century, the term began to be
used by itself, will, the exclusive meaning of a community
of teacbeis and scholars whose corporate existence bad
been lecognized and sanctioned by civil or ecclesiastical
authority or by both But the more ancrnt ?nd custom-
ary designation of the university in medieval times (re-
garded as a place of instruction} was "studium geneiaJe "
(or sometimes " st-udium " alone}, a term implying a centre
of instruction for all ' The expressions " universitas
studii " and "unnersitatis collegium" are also occasionally
to be met with in oflicial documents.
It i? necessary, however, to bear in mind, on the one
band, that a university often bad a vigorous virtual ■•sist-
ence long before it obtained that legil recognition ivhich en-
titled It, technically, to take rank as a "studium generale, '
and, on the other hand, that hostels, halls, and colleges,
together with complete course.^ in all the recognized
branches of learning, wepe by no means necessarily in-
volved in the earliest conception of a university The
university, in its earliest stage of development, appears to
have been simply a scholastic guild, — a spontaneous coni-
bioatiof, that is to say, of teachers or scholars, oi of
both combined, and fmmed probably on the analogy of the
trades guilds.and theguilds of aliens in foreign cities, which,
in the course of the 13lli and 14th centuries, are to be
found springing up in most of the great European centres.
The design of these organizations, in the first instance, was
' ll is the design of the present article to exhibit the universities in
their historical development, each beiog brought under notice, as far
aa praaicabk, in tbe order of its original foundation, lu the alpha-
betical eourueration in the table at the end, tbe date of fonudatioii
tliu» serves to indicate approximately the place whefe^ny university
is first referred to
' Dcnifle. T)u Unive>sitSieit des UiUdaUers. i. 39.
1 little more than that of securing mutual protection,— for
I the craftsman, in the pursuit of his special calling, — for
the alien, as lacking the rights and privileges inherited
by the citizen And so the university, composed as it was
to a great e.xtent of students from foreign countries, was a
combination formed for the protection of its members from
the extortion of the townsmen and the other annoyances
incident in mediceval times to residence in a foreign state.
It was a first stage of development in connexion with
these primary organizations, when the chancellor of the
cathedral, or some other authority, began, as we shall
shortly see, to confer on their masters the right of teach-
ing at any similar centre that either already existed or
might afterw.Trds be formed throughout Europe, — "facultas
ubique docendi." It was a still further development when
it began to be recognized that, without a licence from either
pope, emperor, or king, no '' studium generale " could be
formed possessing this right of conferring degrees, which
originally meant nothing more than licences to teach.
In order, however, clearly to understand the conditions Chief
under which the earliest universities cawe into existence, facts
it IS necessary to take account, not only of their organiza- "} '*■'
tion, but also of their studies, and to recognize the main {"^J^
influences which, from the 6th to the r2th century, served before"^
to modify both the theory and the practice of education, the nni-
In the former century, the school? of the Roman empire, ^^^ity
which had down to that time kept alive the traditions of "^
pagan education, had been almost entirely swept away by
the barbaric invasions. The latter century marks the
period when the institutions which supplied their place —
the episcopal schools attached to the cathedrals and the
monastic schools — attained to their highest degree of influ-
ence and reputation. Between these and the schools of
the empire there existed an essentiaJ difference, in that the
theory of education by which they were pervaded was in
.complete contrast to the simply secular theory of the
schools of paganism. The cathedral school taught only
what was supposed to be necessary for the education of
the priest; the monastic school taught only what was
supposed to be in harmony with the aims of the monk.
But between the pagan system and the Christian system
by which it had been superseded there yet existed some-
832
UNIVERSITIES
Revival
in time
ofCharled
the Great.
[t3 con-
nexion
with uni-
versity of
Paris
doubtful.
General
causes of
formation
of first
universi-
ties.
Rise of
uni-
versity of
Salerno.
thing that was common to both : the latter, even in the
narrow and meagre instruction which it imparted, could
not altogether dispense with the ancient text-books, simply
because there were no others in existence. Certain
treatises of Aristotle, of Porphyry, of Martianus Capella,
and of Boetius continued consequently to be used and
studied ; and in the slender outlines of pagan learning
thus still kept in view, and in the exposition which they
necessitated, we recognize the main cause which prevented
tho thought and literature of classic antiquity from falling
altogether into oblivion.
Under the rule of the Merovingian dynasty even these
scanty traditions of learning declined throughout the
Frankish dominions ; but in England the designs of
Gregory the Great, as carried out by Theodorus, Bade,
and Alcuin, resulted in a great revival of education and
letters. The influence of this revival extended in the 8th
and 9th centuries to Frankland, where Charles the Great,
advised and aided by Alcuin, effected a memorable refor-
mation, which included both the monastic and the cathe-
dral schools; while the school attached to the imperial
court, known as the Palace School, also became a famous
centre of learned intercourse and instruction.
But the activity thus generated, and the interest in
learning which it served for a time to diffuse, well nigh
died out amid the anarchy which characterizes the 10th
century in Latin Christendom, and it is at least question-
able whether any real connexion can be shown to have
existed between this earlier revival and that remarkable
movement in which the university of Paris had its origin.
On the whole, however, a clearly traced, although imper-
fectly continuous, succession of distinguished teachers has
inclined the majority of those who have studied this ob-
scure period to conclude that a certain tradition of learn-
ing, handed down from the famous school over which
Alcuin presided at the great abbey of St Martin at Tours,
continued to survive, and became the nucleus of the teach-
ing ill which the university took its rise. But, in order
adequately to explain the remarkable development and
novel character which that teaching assumed in the course
of the 12th and 13th centuries, it is necessary to take
account of the operation of certain more general causes to
which the origin of the great majority of the earlier uni-
versities may in common unhesitatingly be referred. These
causes are — (1) the introduction of new subjects of study,
as embodied in a new or revived literature ; (2) the adop-
tion of new methods of teaching which were rendered
necessary by the new studies ; (3) the growing tendency
to organization which accompanied the development and
consolidation of the European nationalities.,
That the earlier universities took their rise to a great
extent in endeavours to obtain and provide instruction of
1 kind beyond the range of the monastic and cathedral
schools appears to be very generally admitted, and this
general fact has its value in assisting us to arrive at a
conclusion with respect to the origin of the first European
university, — that of Salerno in Italy, which became
known as a school of medicine as early as the 9th century.
The circumstances of its rise are extremely obscure, and
whether it was monastic or secular in its origin has been
much disputed. One writer ' derives its origin from an
independent tradition of classical learning which continued
to exist in Italy down to the 10th century. Another
writer 2 maintains that it had its commencement in the
teaching at the famous Benedictine monastery of Monte
Cassino, where the study of medicine was undoubtedly
pursued. But various facts may be urged in coutraven-
* De Renzi, Stoi-ia DocumenCala delta Scuola Mcdica di Salerno^
ed. 1857, p. 145.
* Puccinotti, Sioria delta Mcdicbia, i. 317-326.
tion of such a theory. The school at Salerno, so far as
its history can be traced, appears to have been entirely
a secular community ; it was distinguished also by its
catholic spirit, and, at a time when Jews were the object of
religious persecution throughout Europe, members of this
nationality were to be found both as teachers and learners
at Salerno. Situated, moreover, as it was on the sea-
coast, its communication with the neighbouring island of
Sicily was easy and frequent ; and it would accordingly
seem far more probable that it was owing to the new
knowledge gained from the Saracens, after their occupa-
tion of that island, that Salerno acquired its reputation.
It was by a band of these invaders that Bertharius, abbot
of Monte Cassino, and tho author of certain medical
treatises, was massacred along with his monks in tMfe year
883. The Saracens were famed for their medical skill,
and, by their translations of Galen and Hippocrates, did
much to advance the study ; and, according to Jourdain,^
there were translations from the Arabic into Latin long
before the time of Constantine the African, but these
versions have perished. In the course of the 11th century,
under the teaching of Constantine the African (d. 1087),
the celebrity of Salerno became diffused all over Europe.
Ordericus Vitalis, v.'ho wrote in tbe first half of the ■12th
century, speaks of it as then long famous. In 1231 it
was constituted by the emperor Frederick II. the only
school of medicine in the kingdom of Naples.
It was at a considerable interval after the rise of the
school at Salerno, about the year 1113, that Irnerius com-
menced at Bologna his lectures pn the civil law. This
instruction, again, was of a kind which the monastic and
cathedral schools could not supply, and it also met a new
and pressing want. The states of Lombardy were at this
time rising rapidly in "population and in wealth ; and the
greater complexity of their political relations, their increas-
ing manufactures and commerce, called for a more definite
application of the principles embodied in the codes that
had been handed down by Theodosius and Justinian. But
the distinctly secular character of this new study, and its
intimate connexion with the claims and prerogatives of the
Western emperor, aroused at first the susceptibilities of the
Roman see, and for a time Bologna and its civilians were
regarded by the church with distrust and even with alarm.
These sentiments were not, however, of long duration. In
the year 1151 the appearance of the Decrelum of Gratian,
largely compiled from spurious documents, invested the
studies of the canonist with fresh importance ; and
numerous decrees of past and almost forgotten pontiffs now
claimed to take their stand side by side with the enact-
ments contained in the Corpus Juris Civilis. They con-
stituted, in fact, the main basis of those new pretensions
asserted with so much success by the popedom in the
course of the 12th and 13th centuries. It was necessary,
accordingly, that the Decretum should be known and
studied beyond the walls of the monastery or the episcopal
palace, and that its pages should receive authoritative ex-
position at some common centre of instruction. Such a
centre was to be found in Bologna. The nefeds of the
secular student and of the ecclesiastical student were thus
brought for a time into accord, and from the days of
Irnerius down to the close of the 13th century we have
satisfactory evidence that Bologna was generally recognized
as the chief school both of the civil and the canon law.*
It has indeed been asserted that university degrees were
instituted there as early as the pontificate of Eugenius
III. (1M5-53), but the statement rests on no good
authority, and is in every way improbable. There is,
however, another tradition which is in better harmony
' SurVAge el t'Oriijine dcs Traductions Latines, Sc, p. 226.
* Denifle, Die l/niversitiUeti, &c., i. 48.
Teacliing
of
Imeriiid
at
Bolo^i.v.
Vecretvm
of Gratu-io
and the
canor
law
UNIVERSITIES
833
Barbi'
rossa
granU
privi-
]e^3 to
f.ireigu
nt
Balogn*.
The
"acirer-
uitiM''at
Bologna.
Demo-
cratic
ithar-
Mter of
these
(oniina-
ratiea.
with the known facts. WTien Barbarossa marched his
forces into Italy on his memorable expedition of 1155,
and reasserted those imperial claims which had so long
lain dormant, the professors of the civil law and thei.'
scholars, but more especially the foreign students, gathered
round the Western representative of the Roman Caesars;
and besought his intervention in their favour in then
relations with the citizens of Bologna. A large proportion
of the students were probably from Germany ; and it did
not escape Frederick's penetration that the civilian might
prove an invaluable ally in the assertion of his imperial
pretensions. He received the sujipliants graciously, and,
finding that their grievances were real, especially against
the landlords in whose houses they were domiciled, he
granted the foreign students substantial protection, by
conferring on them certain special immunities and privi-
leges (November 115S).' These privileges were embodied
in the celebrated Authentica, Hahita, in the Corpus Juris
Ciiniis of the empire (bk. iv. tit. 13), and were eventually
extended so as to include all the other universities of Italy.
In them we may discern the precedent for that state prp-
tection of the university which, however essential at one
time for the security and freedom of the teacher and the
taught, has been far from proving an unmixed beucfit, —
the influence which the civil power has thus been able to
exert being too often wielded for the suppression of that
very liberty of thought and inquiry from which the earlier
miversities derived in no small measure their importance
and their fame.
But, though there was a flourishing school of study, it
is to be observed that Bologna did not possess a university
so early as 11.58. Its first university was not constituted
until the close of the 12th century. The "universities"
at Bologna were, as Denifle has shown, really student guilds,
formed under influences quite distinct from the protecting
clauses of the Authentica, and suggested, as already noted,
by the precedent of those foreign guilds which, in the
course of the 12th century, began to rise throughout
western Europe. They had their origin in the absolute
necessity, under which residents in a foreign city found
themselves, of obtaining by combination that protection
and those rights which they could not claim as citizens.
These societies were modelled, Denifle considers, not on
the trade guilds which rose in Bologna in the 13th century,
but on the Teutonic guilds which arose nearly a century
earlier in north-western Europe, being essentially " spon-
taneous confederations of aliens on a foreign soil." Ori-
ginally, they did not include the native student element.
The power resulting from this principle of combination,
when superadded to the privileges conferred by Barbarossa,
gave to the students of Bologna a superiority of which
they were not slow to avail themselves. Under the leader-
ship of their rector, they extorted from the citizens con-
cessions which raised them from the condition of an op-
pressed to that of a specially privileged class. The same
principle, when put in force against the professors, reduced
the latter to a position of humble deference to the very
body whom they were called upon to instruct, and im-
parted to the entire university that essentially democratic
character by which it was afterwards distinguished. It is
not surprising that such advantages should have led to an
imitation and extension of the principle by which they
were obtained. Denifle considers that the " universities "
at Bologna were at one time certainly more than four in
' See Savigny, Gcsch. d. rim. Rechu, in. 152, 491-492. See also
Giesehrecht, Oesch. d. Kaiserzmt (ed. 18S0), v. 51-52. The story is
preserved in a recently discovere^l metrical composition descriptive of
the history of Fredenck J. ; see Sitzungsbenckte d. Bairisch. Akad. a.
Wissaixha/l, Ph-d.-Hist. Klasse, 1879. ii. 285. Its authenticity is
called in question by Denifie, but it would seem to be quite in h.ir-
mooy with the known facts.
23— .?1
number, and we know that the Italian students alone were
subdivided into two, — the Tuscans and the Lombards. In
the centres formed by secession from the parent body a
like subdivision took place. At Vercelli there were four
" universitates," composed respectively of Italians, Ens-
lish, Proven9als, and Germans , at Padua there were
similar divisions into Italians, French {i.e.\ Franctgens,
comprising both English and Normans), Provencals (in-
cluding Spaniards and Catalans). When accordingly we
learn from Odofred that in the time of the eminent jurist
Azo, who lectured at Bologna about 1200, the number of
the students there amounted to some ten thousand, of
whom the majority were foreigners, it seems reasonable to
conclude that the number of these confederations of students
(" tocietates scholanum ") at Bologna was yet greater
It is certain that they were not formed simultaneously,
but, similarly to the free guilds, one after the other, — the
last in order being that ol the Tuscans, which was com-
posed of students from Tuscany, the Campagna, and
Rome. Nor are we, again, to look upon them as in any
way the out<;ome of those democratic principles which
found favour in Bologna, but rather as originating in the
traditional home associations of the foreign students,
fostered, however, by the peculiar conditions of their
university life. As the Tuscan division (the one least in
sympathy, in most respects, with Teutonic institutions)
was the last formed, so, Denifle conjectures, the German
" university " may have introduced the conception which
was successively adopted by the other nationalities.
In marked resemblance to the guilds, these confederations
were presided over by a common head, — the " rector schola-
num," an obvious imitation of the "rector societatum " or
" artium " of the guild, but to be carefully distinguished
from the " rector scholarum," or director of the studies, with
whose function the former officer had, at this time, nothing
in common. Like the guilds, again, the different nations
were represented by their "consiliarii," a deliberative
assembly with whom the rector habitually took counsel.
While recognizing the essentially democratic character of
the constitution of these communities, it is to be remem-
bered that the students, unlike the majority at Paris and
later universities, were mostly at this time of mature
years. As the civil law and the canon law were at fir3t
the only branches of study, the class whom they attracted
were often men already filling office in some department
of the church or state, — archdeacons, the heads of schools,
canons of cathedrals, and like functionaries forming a con-
siderable element in the aggregate. It has been observed,
indeed, that the permission accorded them by Frederick 1.
of choosing, in all cases of dispute, their own tribunal,
thus constituting them, to a great extent, sui juris, seems
to presuppose a certain maturity of judgment among those
on whom this discretionary power was bestowed.
With the middle of the 13th century, these various con-
federations became blended, for the first time, into one or
other of the two great divisions already referred to, — those of
theUltramontaniandtheCitramontani.JohannesdeVaranis
being rector of the former and Pantaleon de Venetiis of the
latter. Innocent IV., in according his sanction to the new
statutes of the university in 1253, refers to them as drawn
up by the " rectores et universitas scholarium Bononieu-
sium." With the commencement of the 16th century, the
two corporations were combined under one rector.
About the year 1200 were formed the two faculties of
medicine and philosophy (or the arts^), the former being
^ The arta course of study was that repqesented by the ancient
(riinum (i.e., grammar, logic, and rhetoric) and the qiiadnvium (i.e.,
arithmetic, geometr}', music, and astronomy), as handed down from
the schools of the Roman empire. See J. B. Mullinger, History of
the UniiXTSity of Cambridge, i. 24-27.
Oilier
similar
commtiai-
ties ui
Italy.
The
rector.
Mature
age of d
student.
Amalga-
mation of
the "uni-
versi-
tates "
into txv-o
divisions.
Faculties
institute.1
834
U N 1 \' E 11 S I 1' I E S
ftrcount
m I ho
uu'ver-
sity by
Til?
e.iil iest
^'icin of
univer-
sity of
Pans.
Sluily of
log's-
T«aching
of
Abelard.
somewhat the earlier. It was developed, as thi}t of the
civil law liid been developed, by a succession of able
teachers, among whom Tliaddeus Alderottus was especially
eminent. The faculty of arts, down to the l4th century,
Bcarceiy attained to equal eminence. The teaching of
theology remained for a long time exclusively in the hands
of the Dominicans ; and it was not until the year 1300
that Innocent VI. recognized the university as a "studium
generale " in this branch, — in other words, as a place of
theological education for ail students, with the power of
conferring deg'-'^cs of universal validity.
In the year 1371 the cardinal legate, Anglicus, compiled,
as chief director of ecclesiastical affairs in the city, an
account of the university, which he presented to Urban V.
The information it supplies is, however, defective, owing
to the fact that only the professors who were in receipt of
salaries from the municipality arc mentioned Of these
there were twelve of civil law and si.^c of canon law ; three
of medicine, three of practical medicine, and one of sur-
gery ; two of logic, and one each of astrology, rhetoric,
and notarial practice; The professors of theology, who, as
members of the religious orders, received no state remuneia-
tien, are unmentioned
Colleges existed at Bologna at a very early date, but it
IS not until the Hth century that we find them possessing
any organization. Thej' were designed solely for neces-
sitous students, not being natives of Bologna. A separate
liouse, with a certain fund for the maintenance of a speci-
■ ed number of scholars, was all that was originally Con-
ini plated. Such was the character of that founded by
Zop.n, bishop of Avignon, in February 1256 (O.S.), the
same month and year, it is to be noted, in which the Sor-
hnnne was founded in Pans. It was designed for the
maintenance of eight scholars from the province of Avignon,
under the supervision of three canons of the church, main-
taining themselves in the university. Each scholar was to
receive 21 Bolognese lire annually for five years. The
:ollege of Brescia was founded in 1320 by William of
Brescia, archdeacon of Bologna, for poor foreign students
without distinction as to nationality. The Spanish college,
founded in 1364, for twenty-four Spanish scholars and two
chaplains, is noted by Denifle as the one college founded
in mediaeval times which still e.xists on the Continent.
Of the general fact that the early universities rose in
response to new wants the commencement of the uni-
versity of Paris supplies us with a further illustration.
The. study of logic, which, prior to the r2th centurj', was
founded exclusively on one or two meagre compends,
received about the year 1100, on two occasions, a power-
ful stimulus, — in the first instance, from the memorable
controversy between Lanfranc and Berengar ; in the
second, from the no less famous controversy between
Anselm and Roscellinus. A belief sprang up that an
intelligent apprehension of spiritual truth depended on a
correct use of prescribed methods of argumentation.
Dialectic was looked upon as "the science of sciences " ;
and, when, somewhere in the first decade of the 12th
century, William of Champeaux opened in Paris a school
for the more advanced study of dialectic as an art, his
teaching was attended with marked success. Among his
pupils was Abelard, in whose hands the study made a yet
more notable advance ; so that, by the middle of the cen-
iury, we find John of Salisbury, on returning from the
French capital to England, relating with astonishment,
nofunminglod with contempt, how all learned Paris had
gone well nigh mad in its pursuit and practice of the new
dialectic.
Abelard taught in the first instance at the cathedral
school at Notre Damo, and subsequently «t the schools on
♦■he Montague Saintc-Genevieve, of which ho was the
founder, and where he imparted to logic its uew develop-
ment. But in 1147 the secular canons of Ste Genevieve
gave place to canons regular from St Victor ; and hence-
forth the schoul on the former foundation was merely a
school for the teaching of theology, and was attended only
by the members of the liouse ' The schools out of which
the university arose were those attached to the cathedral
on the He de la Cite, and presided over by the chancellor,
— a dignitary who must be carefully distinguished from
the later chancellor of the university. For a long tim€
the teachers lived in separate houses on the island, and it
was only by degrees that they combined themselves into a
society, and that special buildings were constructed for
their class-work. But the flame which Abelard's teaching
had kindled was not destined to expire. Among his
|iupils was Peter Lombard, who was bishop of Pans in
11.59, and widely known to posterity as the compiler of
the famous voiuine of the Sentences. The design of this
woik was to place before the student, in as strictly logical
a form as practicable, the views (sententia) of the fathers
and all the great doctors of the church upon the chief and
most ditficult points in the Christian belief. Conceived
with the purpose of allaying aud preventing, it really
stimulated, controversy. The logicians seized upon it as a
great storehouse of indisputable major premises, on which
they argued with renewed energy and with endless
ingenuity of dialectical refinement ; and upon this new
compendium of theological doctrine, which became the
te.xt-booU of the Middle Ages, the schoolmen, in their
successive treStises super Sententias, expended' a consider-
able share of that subtlety and labour which still excite the
astonishment of the student of metaphysical literature.
It IS iQ these prominent features in tho-history of these
early universities — the development of new methods of
instruction concurrently with the appearance of new
material for their application — that we find the most
probable solution of the question as to how the university,
as distinguished from the older cathedral or monastic
schools, was first formed. In a similar manner, it seems
probable, the majority of the earl'pr universities of Italy —
Reggio, Modena, Vicenza, Padua, and Vercelli — arose, for
they had their origin independently alike of the civil and
the papal authority. Instances, it is true, occur, which
cannot be referred to this spontaneous mode of growth.
Tlie university of Naples, for example, was founded solely
by the fiat of the emperor Frederick II. in the year 1224 ;
and, if we may rely upon the documents cited by Denille,
Innocent IV. about the year 1245 founded in connexion
witii the curitfa "studium generale,"'- which was attached to
the [lapal court, and followed it when removed from Rome,
very much as the Palace School of Charles the Great ac-
companied that monarch on his progresses.
As the university of Pans" became the model, not only
for the universities of France north of the Loire, but also
for the great majority of those of -eentral Europe as well
as for Oxford and Cambridge, some account of its early
organization will here be indispensable. Such an account
is rendered still further necessary by the fact thai the
recent and almost exhaustive researches of Denifle, the
Dominican father, have led him to conclusions which on
some important pioints run altogether counter to those sanc-
tioned by the high authority of Savigny.
The original university, as already stated, took its rise
entirely out of the movement carried on by teachers on the
' Tlie view of Thurot {De t' Orgamsaeioii rle C Enscignenncht dans
VUnircTstU de Pans; pp. 4-7) that the university arose out of a com-
bination of these several schools is rejected by Denifle (see Die £'«ri-
versilalen, kc, 1. C53-694).
- Where tlie words studiuta r.,-ncTatc are pinccd within maik'; of
qnotntioii Ihey occur in tiie original charter of foundation of tlie uiii
vtrsity I'ffcried to.
Study o(
theology
Lomoard'f
Sentcncr-s.
Rise of
other
early uni
versilies
Early
orcaiuia
tioii of
univer-
sity of
Paris.
UNIVERSITIES
835
■"■pp.
Bachelor
af irts.
V"^ uni-
•-isity
KtmeJ.
■LPn<1-
i its
t
■■ Aop'
..at.
Island, ttlio taught by virtue of the licence conferred by
the chancellor of the cathedral. In the second decade of
the I3th century, it is true, we find mastere withdrawing
themselves from his authority by repairing to the left bank
of the Seme and placing themselves under the jurisdiction
of the abbot of the monastery of Ste Genevieve ; and in
1255 this dignitary is to be found appointing a clianccUor
whose duty it should be to confer " licentia doccndi " on
those candidates who were desirous of opening schools in
ihat district. But it was around the bestowal of this licence
tty the chancellor of Notre Dame, on the tie de la Citi5,
that the university of Paris grew up. It is in this licence
that tlie whole significance of the master of arts degree is
contained , for what is technically known as admission to
that degree was really nothing more nor less than receiving
the chancellor's permission to " incept," and by " incep-
tion " was-iniplied the master's formal entrance upon, and
commencement of, the functions of a duly licensed teacher,
and his recognition as such by his brothers in the profes-
sion. The previous stage of his academic career, that of
bachelordom, had been one of apprenticeship for the
mastership ; and his emancipation from this state was
symbolized by placing the magisterial cap (birel/a) upon
his head, a ceremony which, in imitation of the old Roman
ceremony of manumission, was performed by his' former
instructor, " under whom " he was said to incept. He
then gave a formal inaugural lecture, and, after this proof
of magisterial capacity, was welcomed into the society of
his professional brethren with set speeches, and took his
seat in his master's chair.
This community of teachers of recognized fitness did not
in itself suffice to constitute a university, but some time
between the years 1150 and 1170, the period when the
Senlernres of Peter Lombard were given to the world, the
university of Paris came formally into being. Its first
written statutes were not, however, compiled until about
the year 1208, and it was not until long after that date
that it possessed a " rector." Its earliest recognition as a
legal corporation belongs to about the year 1211, when a
brief of Innncent III. empowered it to elect a proctor to
be its representative at the papal court. By this permis-
sion it obtained the right to sue or to be sued in a court
of justice as a corporate body.
Tills papal recognition was, however, very far from im-
plying the episcopal recognition, and the earlier history of
the new community exhibits it as .in continual conflict
alike with the chancellor, the bishop, and the cathedral
chapter of Paris, by all of whom it was regarded as a
centre of insubordination and doctrinal licence^ Had it
not been, indeed, for the papal aid, the university would
probably not have survived the contest; but with that
powerful assistance it came to be regarded as the great
Transalpine- centre of orthodox theological teaching.
Successive pontiffs, down to the great schism of 1378,
made it one of the foremost points of their policy to
cultivate friendly and confidential relations, with the
authorities of the unive-sity of Paris, and systematically to"
discourage the formation of theological faculties at other
centres. In 1231 Gregory IX., in the bull Parens Scieii-
iiarum, gave full recognition to the right of the several
faculties to regulate and modify the constitution of the
entire university, — a formal sanctioa which, in Denifle's
opinion, rendered the bull in question the JIagna Charta
of the university.
In comparing the relative antiquity of the universities
of Paris and Bologna, it is difficult to give an unqualified
decision. The university of masters at the former was
probably slightly anterior to the university of students at
the latter ; but there is good reason for believing that
Paris '1 reducing its traditional customs to statutory form.
largely availed itself of the precedents afforded by the
already existing code of the Transalpine centre, while its
rectorship, proctorships, and four " nations " are all clearly
distinct adaptations of the corresponding divisions at
Bologna. These nations, which included both professors
and scholars, were — (1) the French nation, composed, in
addition to the native element, of Spaniards, Italians, and
Greeks ; (2) the Picard nation, representing the students
from the northeast and from the Netherlands ; (3)
the Norman nation ; (4) the English nation, comprising,
besides students from the provinces under English rule,
those from England, Ireland, Scotland, and Germany.
These several nations first came into existence some time
before ihe .year 1219, and all belonged to the faculty
of arts ; but the fully developed university was divided
into four faculties, — three " superior," viz., those of theo-
logy, canon law, and medicine, and one " inferior," that of
arts. The head of each faculty was the dean ; the head
of each nation was the proctor. The rector, who in the
first instance was head of the faculty of arts, by whom he
was elected, was eventually head of the whole university.
Each of the nations and each of the superior faculties,
while subject to the general authority which he represented,
was, like a royal colony, in a great measure self-governed,
and ma;le statutes which were binding simply on its ownf
members. Congregations of the faculty of arts were pre-
sided over by the rector, who discharged the same function
when general congregationa of the whole academic cora-
mijinity were convened. In the former the votes on any
question were taken by nations, in the latter by faculties
and nations. Only "regents," that is, masters actually
engaged in teaching, had any right to be present or to vote
in congregations. Neither the entire university nor the
separate faculties had thus, it will be seen, originally a
common head, and it was not until the middle of the 14lh
century that the rector became the head of the collective
university, by the incorporation under Kim, first, of the
students of the canon law and of medicine (which took
place about the end of the 13th century), and, secondly, of
the theologians, which took place about half a century
later.
Apart from the broad diiTerences in their organization,
the very conception of learning, it will be observed, was
different at Bologna from what it was at Paris. In the
former it was entirely professional^— designed, that is to
say, to prepare the student for a definite and practical
career in after life ; in the latter it was sought *o provide
a general mental training, and to attract the learner to
studies which were speculative rather than practical. In
the sequel, the less mercenary spirit in which Paris culti-
vated knowledge, added immensely to her influence and
reputation. The university became known as the gi-eat
school where theology was studied in its most scientific
spirit ; and the decisions of its great doctors upon those
abstruse questions which absorbed so much of the highest
intellectual activity of the Middle Ages were regarded as
almost final. The popes themselves, although averse from
theological controversies, deemed it expedient to cultivate
friendly relations with a centre of such importance for the
purpose of securing their influence in a yet wider field.
Down therefore to the time of the great schism (1378),
they at once conciliated tlio university of Paris aud con-
sulted what they deemed to be thje interests of the Eoman
see, by discouraging the creation of faculties of theojogy
elsewhere. The apparent exceptions to this policy are
easily explained: the four faculties of theology wliich they
sanctioned in Italy — Pisa (1343), Florence (1349), Bologna
(1362), and Padua (1363) — were designed to benefit the
Italian monasteries, by saving the monks the expense and
dangers of a long journey beyond the Alps ; while that at
The
"nalioDa.
P.\l is .111(1
Bologna
con-
trasteil-
Pap.ll
policy irv
rehtiou
to the
univer-
sities.
836
UNIVERSITIES
Fouaau-
tion of
univer-
sities of
Reggio
and
Modena
ViL'enza,
Paaua,
Naplea,
Toulouse (1229) took its rise under circumstances entirely
exceptional, being designed as a bulwark against the heresy
of the Albigenses. Tiie popes, on the other hand, favoured
the creation of new faculties of law, and especially of the
canon law, as the latter represented the source from which
Rome derived her most warmly contested powers and pre-
rogatives. The effects of this twofold poHcy were suffici-
ently intelligible : the withholding of each charter which
it was sought to obtain for a new school of theology only
served to augment the numbers that flocked to Paris ; the
bestowal of each new charter for a faculty of law served in
like manner t^ divert a certain proportionate number from
Bologna. These facts enable us to understand how it is
that, in the 13ih and 14th centuries, we find, even in
France, a larger number of universities created after the
model of Bologna than after that of Paris.
In their earliest stage, however, the importance of these
new institutions was but imperfectly discerned alike by the
civil and the ecclesiastical power, and the first four uni-
versities of Italy, after Bologna, rose into existence, like
Bologna itself, without a charter from either pope or em-
peror. Of these the first were those of Keggio and
Modena, both of which are to be found mentioned as
schools of civil law before the close of the 12th century.
The latter, throughout the 13th century, appears to have
been resorted to by teachers of sufficient eminence to form
a flourishing school, composed of students not only from
tlie city itself, but also from a considerable distance. Both
of them would seem to have been formed independently
of Bologna, but the university of Vicenza was probably the
outcome of a migration of the students from the former
city, which took place in the year 1204. In the course of
the century Vicenza attained to considerable prosperity;
its students vi'ere divided into four nations, each with its
own rector ; and in 1264 it included in its professoriate
teachers, not only of the civil law, but also of medicine,
grammar, and dialectic. The university of Padua was
founded in 1222 as the direct result of the migration of a
considerable number of students from Bologna. Some
writers, indeed, have inferred that the " studium " in the
latter city was transferred in its entirety, but the continued
residence of a certain proportion in Bologna is proved by
the fact that two years later we find them Appealing to
Honorius III. in a dispute with the civic authorities. In
the year 1228 the students of Padua were compelled by
circumstances to transfer their residence to Vercelli, and
the latter city guaranteed them, besides other privileges,
the right to rent no less than five hundred lodging-houses
at a fixed rental for a period of eight years. At first Padua
was a school only of the civil and canon law; and during
the oppressive tyranny of Ezzelin (1237-1260) the uni-
versity maintained its existence with some difficulty. But
in the latter part of the century it incorporated the faculties
of grammar, rhetoric, and medicine, and became known as
one of the most flourishing schools of Italy, and a great
centre of the Dominicans, at that time among the most
active promoters of learning.
The university of Naples was founded by the emperor
Frederick II. in the year 1225, as a school of theology,
jurisprudence, the arts, and medicine, — his design being
that his subjects in the kingdom of Naples should find in
the capital adequate instruction in every branch of learrt-
ing, and " not be compelled in the pursuit of knowledge to
have recourse to foreign nations or to beg in other lands."
In the year 1231, however, he decreed that the faculty of
medicine should cease to exist, and that the study should
be pursued nowhere in the kingdom but at Salerno. The
university never attained to much eminence, and after the
death of I'rederick came for a time altogether to an end,
but was restored in 1258 by King Manfred. In 126" Hs
faculty of medicine was reconstituted, and from 1272-74
Thomas Aquinas was one of its teachers of theology. The
commencement of the university of Vercelli belongs to Vercolli,
about the year 1228 ; it probably included, like Naples,
all the faculties, but would seem to have been regarded
with little favour by the Koman see, and by the year 1372
had ceased to exist, although mention of colleges of law
and medicine is to be found after that date. The two
universities of Piacenza and Pavia stand in close con- Pi«eiua.
nexion with each other. The former is noted by Denifle as
the earliest in Italy which was founded by virtue of a
papal charter (6th February 1248), although the scheme
remained for a long time inoperative. At length, in the
year 1398, the university was reconstituted by Giovanni
Galeazzo Visconti, duke of Milan, who in the same year
caused the university of Pavia to be transferred thither.
Piacenza now became the scene of a sudden but short-
lived academic prosperity. We are told of no less than
twenty-seven professors of the civil law, — among them the
celebrated Baldus ; of twenty-two professors of medicine ;
of professors of philosophy, astrology, grammar, and
rhetoric; and of lecturers on Seneca and Dante. The faculty
of theology would appear, however, never to have been duly
constituted, and but one lecturer in this faculty is mentioned.
With the death of Galeazzo in 1402, this precarious activity
came suddenly to an end; and in 1404 the university had
ceased to exist. Its history is, indeed, unintelligible, un-
less taken in conjunction with that of Pavia. Even before Pavia,
Irnerius taught at Bologna, Pavia had been widely known
as a seat of legal studies, and more especially of the Lom-
bard law, although the evidence is wanting which would
serve to establish a direct connexion between this early
school and the university which was founded there in
1361, by virtue of the charter granted by the emperor
Charles IV. The new "studium" included faculties of
jurisprudence, philosophy, medicine, and the arts, and its
students were formally taken under the imperial protec-
tion, and endowed with privileges identical with those
which had been granted to Paris, Bologna,. Oxford, Orleans,
and Montpellier ; but its existence in Pavia was suddenly
suspended by the removal, above noted, of its students to
Piacenza. It shared again in the decline which overtook
the university of Piacenza after the death of Giovanni
Galeazzo, and during the period from 1404 to 1412 it
altogether ceased to exist. But in October 1412 the
lectures were recommenced, and the university entered
upon the most brilliant period of its existence. Its pro^
lessors throughout the 1 5th century were men of distiB>^
guished ability, attracted by munificent salaries such 'as
but few other universities could offer, while in the number
of students who resorted thither from other countries, and
more especially for the study of the civil law, Pavia had no
rival in Italy but Padua. Arezzo appears to have been Arezzo,
known as a centre of the same study so early as 1215, and
its earliest statutes are assigned to the ySar 1255. By
that time it had become a school of arts and medicine also ;
but for a considerable period after it was almost entirely
deserted, and is almost unmentioned until the year 1338,
when it acquired new importance by the accession of
several eminent jurists from Bologna. In May 1355 it
received its charter as a studium generale from CharlesTV.
After the year 1373 the school gradually dwindled, al-
though it did not become altogether extinct until aboii*
the year 1470. The university of Borne (which is to \ie Rome,
carefully distinguished from the school attached to the
curia) owed its foundation (1303) to Boniface VIII., and
was especially designed by that pontiff for the benefit of
the poor foreign students scjourning in the capital. It
originally included all the faculties; but in 1318 John
XXII. decreed that it should possess the power of confer-
UNIVERSITIES
837
ring degrees only in the canon and civil law. The uni-
versity maintained its existence throughout the period of
the residence of the popes at Avignon (see Popedom), and
under the patronage of Leo X could boast in 1514 of no
less than eighty professors. This imposing array would
seem, however, to be but a fallacious test of the prosperity
of the academic community, for it is stated that many of
the professors, owing to the imperfect manner jn which
they were protected in their privileges, were in the receipt
of such insufficient fees that they were compelled to com-
bine other employments with that of lecturing in order to
support themselves An appeal addressed to Leo X. in
the year 1513 represents the number of students as so
small as to be sometimes exceeded by that of the lecturers
(" ut quandoque plures sint qui legant quam qui audiant ").
ijcarcely any of the universities in Italy in the Htli
Perujia, century attracted a larger concourse than that of Perugia,
where the study chiefly cultivated was that of the civil
lawr- The university received its charter as a studium
generale from Clement V in the year 1308, biit had
already in 1306 been formally recognized by the civic
authorities, by whom it was commended to the special care
and protection of the "podesta " In common with the rest
of the Italian universities, it suffered severely from the
great plague of 134S-49 , but in 1355 it received new
privileges from the emperor, and in 1362 its first college,
dedicated to Gregory the Great, wa? founded by the bishop
Treviso, of Perugia The university of Treviso. whirh received Us
chartef from Frederick the Fair in 1318. was of liKle
celebrity and but short duration It i? doubttul. indeed,
whellier it continued to e.visl after the city became subject
to the republic of Venice in the year 1339 but in 1409
the Venetian senate issued a decree that no subjects of
the republic should resort for study to any riiy in its
dominions save that of Padua, and from this date the
studium at Treviso must be held to have been no longer in
existence The circumstances of the rise of the university
Florence, of Florence are unknown, but the earliest evidence of
academic instruction belongs to the year 13'20 The dis-
persion of the univeisily of Bologna, in the March and April
of the following year, afforded a favourable opportunity for
the creation of a studium generale, but the necessary
measures were taken somewhat tardily, and in the mean,
time the greater number of the P.olognese students had
betaken themselves to Siena The charter of foundation
for Florence n-as accordingly not granted until 31st May
1349, when Clement VI decreed that there should be in '
stituted a studium generale in theology, jurisprudence,
medicine, and every other recognized faculiy 'if learning,
the teachers to be professors who had obtained the degree
of doctor or master either at Bologna Ci Pans, or "some
other studium generale cl celebrity " On 2d January
1364 the university also obtained the grant of imperial
privileges from Charles IV On 14lh February 1388 it
adopted a body of statutes which are slill titant, and
afford an interesting study in connexion with the uni
versity history of the period The university now entered
upon that brilliant period in its history which was destined
to so summar}' an extinction " It is almost touching,"
says Denifle, " to note how untiringly Florence exerted
herself at this period to attract as teachers to her schools
the great masters of the sciences and learning." In the
year 1472. however, under the influence of Lorenzo de'
Medici, it was decided that Florence was not a convenient
seat for a university, and its students were removed to
Sieca, Pisa. The commencement of the university of Siena
belongs to about the year 1241, but its charter was first
granted by the emperor Charles IV., at the petition of the
citSzens, in the year 1357. It was founded as a studium
eenp'^le in jurisprudence, the arts, and medicine. The
imperial charter was confirmed by Gregory XII. in 1408,
and the various bulls relating to the university which he
subsequently issued afford a good illustration of the con-
ditions of academic life in these times. Residence on the
part of the students appears to have been sometimes dis-
pensed with. The bishop of Siena was nominated chan-
cellor of the university, just as, says the bull, he had been
appointed to that office by the imperial authority. The
graduates were to be admitted to the same privileges as
those of Bologna or Paris , and a faculty of theology was
added to the curriculum of studies The university of
Fcrrara owes its foundation to the house of Este, — Alberto, iroi-m™.
marquis of Este, having obtained from Boniface IX in
1391 a charter couched in terms precisely similar to those
of_ the charter for Pisa In the first hall of the lOih
century the university was adorned by the presence of
several distinguished humanists, but its fortunes were
singularly chequered, and it would appear for a certain
period to have been altogether extinct. It was, however,
restored, and became in the latter part of the century one
of the most celebrated of the universities of Italy. In the
year 1474 its circle of studies comprised all the existing
faculties, and it numbered no less than fifty-one profes-
sors or lecturers In later times Ferrara has been noted
chiefly as a school of medicine.
Of the universities modsllcd on that of Pans, 0.\ford Oxford.
would appear to have been the earliest, and tlie manner
of its development was probably similar Certain schools,
I opened within the precincts of the dussolved nurwiery of St
I Frideswyde and of Osem.'y abbey, are supposed to have been
' the nucleus round which the university grew up In the
I year 1133 one Kobeit Pullen, a theologian of considerable
I eminence (bvit whether an Englishman or a Breton is un-
ceitainj. arrived from Pan*, and delivered lectures on the
I Bible He was followed a few years later by Vacanus, a
I native of Lonibardy, who as a student at Bologna had
. inheiited the tradition of the teaching of Irnerius Al-
' though both the pope and King Stephen regarded the
j cimI law !.t this time with considerable distrust Vacanus
i maintained his ground, and the stuciy became orie ot the
' recognized faculties at Oxford Towards tlie dost o( the
' 12tli century Giraldus Cambrensis describes the town as a
place " where the cleigv in England chiefly flourished and
cxcelk-d in clerkly lore ' In one respect, indeed. Oxford
I was more favoured than even Pans, for tlit town auih-
! ontics couJd not pretend tr, asset i any nghiol interference
! with ihe university such as tli-at to wl.ich the French
! monarch and the court frequently laid claim In the 13th
I centur) mention first occurs of university "chests.' esjieci-
! ally the FrideswyiJe chest «tiich were benefactions de-'
! signed as funds for Ihe assistance of poor students Halls,
or places of licensea lesidence for students, also began to
1 be established In the year 1257 when the bishop of
Lincoln, as diocesan had trenched too closelv on the
liberties of the community, the deputies from Oxford,
wheii preferring their appeal to the king at St Albans,
could venture to speak ot the university as " schola secunda
ecrlesia?," or second only to Pans Its numbers about this
time were probably some three thousand , but it was essenti-
ally a fluctuating body, and whenever plague or tumult led
to a temporary dispersion a serious diminution in its
numerical strength generally ensued for some time after.
Against such vicissitudes the foundation of colleges proved
the most effectual remedy. Of these the three earliest
were University College, founded in 1249 by William of
Durham, Balliol College, founded abrnt 1263 by John
Balliol, the father of the king of Scotland of the same
name, and Merton College, founded in 1264 The last-
named is especially notable as associated with a new con-
ception of university education, namely, that of collegiate.
838
IJ N I V E R S I T I E S
disciiiline for the secular clergy, instead of for any one of
|tho religious orders, for whose sole benefit all similar
founJatiof.! had hitherto been designed. The statutes
given to the society by Waller de Merton are not less
notuworlhy, as characterized not only by breadth of con-
ception, but iUo by a careful and discriminating attention
to detail, wliich led to their adoption as the model for
later colleges, not only at Oxford but at Cambridge. Of
the service rendered by these foundations to the university
at large we have significant proof in the fact that, althougli
representing only a small numerical minority in the
academic community at large, their members soon ob-
tained a considerable preponderance in the administration
of affairs.
Cam- The university of Cambridge, although it rose into
briJge, Q,^ istence somewhat later than O.xford, may reasonably be
held to have liad its origin in the same century. There
was i)robably a certain amount of educational work
carried on by the canons of the church of St Giles, which
gradually developed into the instruction belonging to a
regular studium. In the year 1112 the canons crossed
the river and took up their residence in the new priory in
Barnwell, and their work of instruction acquired addi-
tional importance. Then, as early as tlie year 1224, the
Franciscans established themselves in tlie town, and, some-
what less than half a century later, were followed by the
Dominicans. At both the English universities, as at
Paris, the Mendicants and other religious orders were
admitted to degrees, a privilege which, until the year 1337,
WJ3 extended to them at no other university. Their
inlerest in and inHuenoe at these three centres was con-
.sequently proportionably great. In the years 1231 and
1233 certain royal and papal letters afford satisfactory
proof that by that time the university of Cambridge was
already an organized body witli a chancellor at its head;
and in 1229 and 1231 its numbers were largely augmented
by migrations from Paris and from O.xford. Cambridge,
however, in its turn suffered from emigration ; while in
the year 12G1, and again in 1322, the records of the uni-
versity were wantonly burnt by the townsmen. Through-
out the 13th century, indeed, the university was still' only
a very slightly and imperfectly organized community. Its
endowments were of the most slender kind ; it had ,no
systematic code for the government of its members ; the
supervision of the rtudents was very imperfectly provided
for. An important step in the direction of reform in this
last respect was, however, made in the year 1276, when
an ordinance was passed requiring that every one who
claimed to be recognized as a scholar should have a fixed
master within fifteen days after his entry into the uni-
versity, liut the feature which most_served to give per-
manence and cohesion to the entire community was, as at
O.\ford, the institution of colleges. The earliest of these
was Peterhouse, first 'founded as a separate institution by
Hi'.gh Balsham,, bishop of Ely, in the year 1280, with-a
code which was little more than a transcript of that given
by Walter do Merton to his scholars at Oxford. About
forty years later was founded Michaelhouse, and at nearly
the same time (1326) Edward II. instituted his foundation
of " king's scholars," afterwards forming the community
of King's Hall. i5oth these societies in the ICth century
were merged in Trinity College. To those succeeded Pem-
broke Hall (1347) and Gon'ville Hall (1348). All these
colleges, although by no means conceived in a spirit of
hostility to either the monastic or the Mendicant orders,
were expressly designed for the benefit of the secular
Jtlergy.' The foundation of Trinity Hall (1350) by Bishop
IBateraan, on the other hand, as a school of civil and canon
law was probably designed to further ultramontane in-
terests. That of Coipus Christi (1352), the outcome of
the liberality of a guild of Cambridge townsmen, was con-
ceived with the combined object of providing a house of
education for the clergy, and at the same time securing the
regular performance of masses for the benefit of the souls
of de[iartcd members of the guild. But both Trinity Hall
and Corpus Christi College, as well as Clare Hall, founded
in 1359, were to a great extent indebted for their origin
to the ravages caused among the clergy by the great plague
of 1349.
Turning *n Prance, or rather to the territory included Mout-
within the boundaries of modern France, we find Mont- Pe'iir-
pcllier a recognized school of medical science as early as
the 1 2th century. William VIII., lord of Montpellier, in
the year 1181 proclaimed it a school of free resort, where
any teacher of medical science, from whatever country,
might give instruction. Before the end of the century it
possessed also a faculty of jurisprudence, a branch of learn-
ing for which it afterwards became famed. The university
of medicine and that of law continued, however, to be totally
distinct bodies with different constitutions. Petrarch was
sent by his father to Montpellier to study the civil law.
On 2Gth October 1289 Montpellier was raised by Nicholas
IV. to the rank of a "studium generp.le," a mark of favour
which, in a region where papal influence was so potent,
resulted in a considerable accession of prosperity. The
university also now included a faculty of arts ; and thoj-e
is satisfactory evidence of the existence of a faculty of
theology before the close of the Hth century, although not
formally recognized by the pope before the year 1421. In
the course of the same century several colleges for poor
students were also founded, "riie university of Toulouse Toulouse.
IS to be noted as the first founded in any country by virtue
of a papal charter. It took its rise in the efforts of Rome
for the suppression of the Albigensian heresy, and its
foundation formed one of the articles of tlie conditions
of peace imposed by Louis IX. on Count Raymond of
Toulouse. In the year 1233 it first acquired its full
privileges as a "studium generale" by virtue of a charter
given by Gregory IX. This pontiff watched over the uni-
versity with especial solicitude, and through his exertions
it soon became a noted centre of theological and especially
of Dominican teaching. As a school of arts, jurisprudence,
and medicine, although faculties of each existed, it never
attained to any reputation. The university of Orleans Orleank
had a virtual existence as a studium generale as early as
the first half of the 13th century, but in the year 1305
Clement V. endowed it with new privileges, and gave its
teachers permission to form themselves into a corporation.
The schools of Orleans had an existence, it is said, as early
as the 6th cr.ntury, and subsequently supplied the nucleus
for the foundation of a university at Blois ; but of this
university no records now exist.' Orleans, in its organiza-
tion, was modelled mainly on Paris, but its studies were
complementary rather than in rivalry to the older univer-
sity. The absorbing character of the study of the civil
law, and the mercenary spirit in which it was pursued, had
hid the authorities at Paris to refuse to recognize it as a
faculty. The study found a home at Orleans, where it
was cultivated with an energy which attracted numerous
students. In January 1235 we find the bishop of Orleans
soliciting the advice of Gregory IX. as to the expediency
of countenancing a study which was prohibited in Paris.
Gregory decided that the lectures might be continued ; but
he ordered that no beneficed ecclesiastic should be allowed
to devote himself to so eminently secular a branch of
learning. Orleans subsequently incorporated a faculty of
arts, but its reputation from this period was always that
of a school of legal studies, and in the 14th century its
reputation in this respect was surpassed by no other uni-
' See Ch. Desmazc, L'l/niversiti de Paris (1200-1875).
UNIVERSITIES
639
versity iu Earope. Prior to the 13th century it had been
Angers, famed for its classical learning ; and Angers, which received
its chaiter at the same time, also once enjoyed a like
reputation, which, in a similar manner, it exchanged for
that of a school for civilians and canonists. The roll of
the university forwarded in 137S to Clement VIL con-
tains the names of 8 professors vtriusque juris, 2 of civil
and 2 of canon law, 72 licentiates, 284 bachelors of both
Aviguon, the legal faculties, and 190 scholars. The university of
Avignon was first recognized as a "btudium generale" bj*
Boniface VIII. in the year 1303, with power to grant
iegrees in jurisprudence, arts, and medicine. Its numbers
declined somewliat during the residence of the popes,
owing to the counter attractions of the " studium " at-
tached to the curia ; but after the return of the papal
;ourt to Rome it became one of the most frequented uni-
versities in France, and possessed at one time no less than
Cahors. seven colleges. The university of Cahors enjoyed the
advantage of being regarded with especial favour by John
XXII. In June 1332 he conferred upon it privileges
identical with those already granted to the university of
Toulouse. In the following October, again following the
precedent established at Toulouse, he appointed the scliol-
asiicus of the cathedral chancellor of the university. In
November of the same year a bull, couched iu terms
almost identical with those of the Magna Charta of Paris,
assimilated .the constitution of Cahors to that of the oldest
university. The two schools in France which, down to
the close of the 14th century, most closely resembled Paris
were Orleans and Cahors. The civil immunities and pri-
vileges of the latter university were not, however, acquired
until the year 1367, when Edward III. of England, in his
capacity as duke of Aquitaine, not only exempted the
S'holars from the payment of all taxes and imposts, but
bestowed upon them the peculiar privilege known as privi-
leijiumfori. Cahors also received a licence for faculties of
theology and medicine, but, like Orleans, it was chiefly
Crenoble, known as a school of jurisprudence. It was as a " studium
generale " in the same three faculties that Grenoble, iu the
year 1339, received its charter from Benedict XII. The
university never attained to much importance, and its
annals are for the most part involved in obscurity. At
the commencement of the ICth century it had ceased alto-
gether to exist, was reorganized by Francis of Bourbon in
1542, and in 1565 was united to the university of Valence.
The university of Perpignan, founded, according to Denifle,
in 1379 by Clement VII. (although tradition had pre-
viously ascribed its origin to Pedro IV. of Aragon), and
that of Orange, founded in 1365 by Charles IV., were uni-
versities only by name and constitution, their names rarely
ajipearing in contemporary chronicles, while their very
existence becomes at times a matter for reasonable doubt.
To some of the earlier Spanish universities — such as
Palencia, founded about the year 1214 by^lfonso VIII. ;
Huesca, founded in 1354 by Pedro IV.; and Lerida,
founded in 1300 by James II. — the same description is
applicable ; and their insignificance is probably indicated
by the fact that they entirely failed to attract foreign
students. Valladolid, founded in 1346 by Pope Clement
VI., attained, however, to some celebrity ; and the foreign
teachers and students frequenting the university became so
numerous that in 1373 King Henry II. caused an enact-
ment to be passed for securing to them the same privileges
as those already accorded to the native element. But the
total number of the students in 1403 was only 116, and
grammar and logic, along with jurisprudence (which was
the principal study), constituted the sole curriculum.
Whatever reputation, indeed, was enjoyed by Spain for
Dearly five centuries after the commencement of the uni-
tersity era, centred mainly in Salamanca, to which Seville,
Perpig-
Qau,
tV.icnciaj
Hiiesca,
Villa.
doliJ.
in the south, stood in the relation of a kind of subsidiary ggi^
scliool, having been founded in 1254 by Alfonso the miin'-i and
Wise, simply for the study of Latin and of the Semitic S«''"''^-
languages, especially Arabic. Salamanca was founded in
1243 by Ferdinand III. of Castile as a "studium generale"
in the three faculties of jurisprudence, the arts, and medi-
cine. Ferdinand extended his special protection to the
students, granting them numerous privileges and im-
munities. Under his son Alfonso (above named) the
university acquired a further development, and eventually
included all the faculties save tliat of theology. But the
main stress of its activity, as was the case with all the
earlier Spanish universities, excepting only Palencia and
Seville, until the commencement of the 15th century, was
laid on the civil and the canon law. But, notwithstanding
the favour with which Salamanca was regarded alike by
the kings of Castile and by the Pioman see, the provision
for the payment of its professors was at first so inadequate
and precarious that in 12DS they by common consent
suspended their lectures, in consequence of their scanty
remuneration. A permanent remedy for this difficulty
was thereupon provided, by the appropriation of a certain
portion of the ecclesiastical revenues of the diocese for the
purpose of augmenting the professors' salaries. The
earliest of the numerous colleges founded at Salamanca
was that of St Bartholomew, long noted for its ancient
library and valuable collection of manuscripts, which now
form part of the royal library iu Madrid.
The one university possessed by Portugal had its seat Coimbr^
in medieval times alternately in Lisbon and in Coimbra,
until, in the year 1537, it was permanen. 'y attached to the
latter city. Its formal foundation^ took place in 1309,
when it received from King Diniz a charter, the provisions
of which were mainly taken from those of the charter
given to Salamanca. In 1772 the university was entirely
reconstituted.
Of the German universities, Prague, wnicn existed as apr^-sr--
"studium " in the 13th centurj', was the earliest, and was
at first frequented mainly by students from Styria and
Austria, countries at that time ruled by the king of
Bohemia. On 26th January 1347, at the requesl. of
Charles IV, Pope Clement VI. 'piromulgated a bull auth
orizing the foundation of a " studium generale" in all the
faculties. In the following year Charles himself issued a
charter for the foundation. This document, which, if ori-
ginal in character, would have been of much interest, has
but few distinctive features of its own, its provisions being-
throughout adapted from those contained in the charters
given by Frederick II. for the university of Naples and
'by Conrad for Salerno, — almost the onlyimportant feature
of difference ,being that Charles bestows on the students of
Prague all the civil privileges and immunities which were
enjoyed by the teachers of Paris and Bologna. Charles
had himself been a student in Paris, and the organization
of his new foundation was modelled on that university, a
like division into four " nations" (although with different
names) constituting one of the most marked features of
imitation. The numerous students — and none of the
mediaeval universities ati acted in their earlier mstory a
larger concourse — were drawn from a gradually widening
area, which at length included, not only all parts of Ger-
many, but also England, France, Lombardy, Hungary, and
Poland. Contemporary writers, with the exaggeration
characteristic of mediceval credulity, even speak of thirty
thousand students as present in the university at one time,
—a statement for which Denifie proposes to substitute
two thousand as a more probable estimate. It is certain,
however, that Prague, prior to the foundation of Leipsic,
was one of the most frequented centres of karniag in
Europe, and Paris suffered a considerable diminutioa in
840
UNIVERSITIES
lier numbers owing to the counter attractions of the great
Etudiiim of Slavonia.
Cracow, Tlie university of Cracow in Poland was founded in
May 1364, by virtue of a charter given by King Casimir
tlie Great, who bestowed on it the same privileges as those
possessed by the universities of Bologna and Padua. In
the following September Urban V., in consideration of the
remoteness of the city from other centres of education,
constituted it a "studium generate" in all the faculties
save that of theology. It is, however, doubtful whether
these designs were carried into actual realization, for it is
certain that, for a long time after the death of Casimir,
there was no university whatever. Its real commencement
must accordingly be considered to belong to the year 1 400,
when it was reconstituted, and the papal sanction was
given for the incorporation of a faculty of theology. From
this time its growth and prosperity were continuous ; and
with the year 1416 it had so far acquired a European
reputation as to venture upon forwarding an expression of
itj views in connexion with the deliberations of the
council of Constance. Towards the close of the 15th
century the university is said to have been in high repute
as a school of both astronomical and humanistic studies.
■\1eiuij, The Avignonese popes appear to have regarded the
establishment of new faculties of theology with especial
jealousy; and when, in 1364, Duke Rudolph IV. founded
the university of Vienna, with the design of constituting
it a "studium generale " in all the faculties, Urban V
refused his assent to the foundation of a theological school.
Owing to the sudden death of Duke Rudolph, the university
languished for the next twenty years, but after the ac-
cession of Duke Albert III , who may be regarded as its
real founder, it acquired additional privileges, and its
prosperity became marked and continuous. Like Prague,
Vienna was for a long time distinguished by the compara-
tively little attention bestowed by its teachers on the study
of the civil law.
No country in the 14th century was looked upon with
greater disfavour at Rome than Hungary. It was stig-
matized as the land of heresy and schism. When, accord-
ingly, in 1367 King Louis applied to Urban V for his
Fiinf- sanction of the scheme of founding a university at Ftinf-
kircbcR, kii;chen, although theological learning was in special need
of encouragement in those regions, Urban would not con-
bent to the foundation of a faculty of theology ; he even
made it a condition of his sanctioi. for a " studium generale "
that King Louis should first undertake to provide for the
t-ayment of the professors. We bear but little concerning
the university after its foundation, and it is doubtful
whether it survived for any length of time the close of the
•-iotury, having been about that period absorbed in all
Olen, probability in the university of Ofen. The foundation of
this university is also involved in considerable obscurity,
and its o'riginal charter is lost. We only know that it was
granted by Boniface IX , at the request of King Sigis-
mund, in the year 1389 In the first half of the 15th
century it ceased for a long period to exist, but was
revived, or rather founded afresh, by King Mathias Cor-
vicu3, an eminent patron of learning, in the last quarter of
the century. " The extreme east of civilized continental
Europe in mediaeval times," observes Denifle, "can be
compared, so far as university education is concerned, only
with the extreme west and the extreme south. In Hun-
gary, as in Portugal and in Naples, there was constant
fluctuation, but the west and the south, although troubled
by yet greater commotions than Hungary, bore better fruit.
Among all the countries possessed of universities in medi-
aeval times, Hungary occupies the lowest place — a state of
affairs of which, however, the proximity of the Turk must
be looked upon sis a maiiy cause."
The university of Heidelberg received its charter (23d Heidel-
October 1385) from Urban VI. as a "studium generale" ^'^•
in all the recognized faculties save that of the civil law, —
the form and substance of the document being almost iden-
tical with those of the charter granted to Vienna. It was
granted at the request of the elector palatine, Rupert I.,
who conferred on the teachers and students, at the same
time, the same civil privileges as those which belonged to
the university of Paris. In this case the functionary
invested with the power of bestowing degrees was non-
resident, the licences being conferred by the provost of the
cathedral at Worms. But the real founder, as he was also
the organizer and teacher, of the university was Marsilius
of Inghen, to whose ability and energy Heidelberg was
indebted for no little of its early reputation and success.
The omission of the civil law from the studies licensed in
the original charter would seem to show that the pontiff's
compliance with the elector's request was merely formal,
and Heidelberg, like Cologne, included the civil law among
its faculties almost from its first creation. No mediaeval
university achieved a more rapid and permanent success.
Regarded with favour alike by the civil and ecclesiastical
potentates, its early annals were singularly free from crises
like those which characterize the history of many of the
mediaeval universities. The number of those admitted to
degrees from the commencement of the first session (19th
October 1386 to 16th December 1387) amounted to 579.'
Owing to the labours of the Dominicans, Cologne had Coloj[oe.
gained a reputation as a seat of learning long before the
founding of its university; and it was through the ad-
vocacy of some leading members of the Mendicant orders
that, at the desire of the city council, its charter as a
"studium generale" (21st May 13SS) was obtained from
Urban VI. It was organized on the model of the uni-
versity of Paris, as a school of theology and canon law,
and " any other recognized faculty," — the civil law being
incorporated as a faculty soon after the promulgation of
the charter. In common with the other early universities
of Germany — Prague, Vienna, and Heidelberg— Cologne
owed nothing to imperial patronage, while it would appear
to have been, from the first, the object of special favour
with Home. This circumstance serves to account for its
distinctly ultramontane sympathies in mediaeval times and
even far into the. 16th century. In a report transmitted
to Gregory XIII. in 157J, the university expressly derives
both its first origin and its privileges from the Holy See,
and professes to owe no allegiance save to the Roman
pontiff. Erfurt, no less noted as a centre of Franciscan Erfurt
than was Cologne of Dominican influence, received its
charter (16th September 1379) from the anti-pope Clement
VII. as a "studium generale" in all the faculties. Ten
years later (4th May 1389) it was founded afre.sh by L^rban
VI., w-ithout any recognition of the act of his pretended
predecessor. In the 15th century the number of its
students was larger than that at any other German uni-.
versity — a fact attributable partly to the reputation it had
acquired as a school of jurisprudence, and partly to the
ardour with which the philosophic controversies of the
time were debated in -its midst.
The collegiate system is to be noted as a feature common
to all these early German universities ; and, in nearly all,
the professors were partly remunerated by the appropria-
tion of certain prebends, appertaining to some neighbouring
church, to their maintenance.
Throughout the 15th century the relations of the Roman Bdations
pontiffs to the universities continued much the same, of the
although the independent attitude assumed at the great I^^J"
councils of Constance and Basel by the deputies from the veraities.
' The statistics of Hautz {Gesck. d. Univ. Heidelberg, i. 377-8)
are corrected by Denifle ^Die Entstehung der Vnitxrsiliilm, p. S85).
UNIVERSITIES
841
Fouadj-
tida of
Loavdin,
Leipsir,
universities, aud especially by those from Paris, could not
fail to excite their apprehensions. Their bulls for each
new foundation begin again to indicate a certain jealousy
with respect to the appropriation of prebends by the
founders. \Vhere such appropriations are made, and more
particularly in France, a formal sanction of the transfer
generally finds a place in the bull authorizing tiR four da-
tion ; whilo sometimes the founder or founders are the n-
selves enjoined to proviue the endowments requisite for the
establishment and support of the university. In this
manner the control of the pontiff over each newly created
seat of learning assumed a more real character, from the
fact that his assent was accompanied by conditions which
rendered it no longer a mere formality. The imperial
intervention, on the other hand, was rarely invoked in
Germany, — Greifswald, Freiburg, and Tiibingen being the
only instances in which tlie emperor's confirmation of the
foundation was solicited.' But whatever influence (he
Roman see may have gained by increasing intervention
was more than counteracted by those other tendencies
which came into operation in the second half of the century.
These were of a twofold character; — the first directly modi-
fying the studies themselves, as the results of the discovery
of printing and the new spirit a\.akened by the teach-
ing of the humanists ; the second affecting the external
conditions, such as the multiplication of schools, and the
growing demand for skilled physicians and learned civilians,
— circumstances which afforded increased employment for
the services of men of academic training. In northern
Germany and in the Netherlands, the growing wealth and
prosperity of the different states especially favoured the
formation of new centres of 'learning. In the flourishing
duchy of Brabant the university of Louvain (1426) was to
a great extent controlled by the municipality; and their
patronage, although ultimately attended with detrimental
results, long enabled Louvain to outbid all the other uni-
versities of Europe in the munificence with which she
rewarded her professors. In the course of the next cen-
tury the " Belgian Athens," as she is styled by Lipsius,
ranked second only to Paris in numbers and reputation.
In its numerous separate foundations and general organiza-
tion— it possessed no less than twenty-eight colleges — it
closely resembled the English universities; while its active
press afforded facilities to the author and the controversialist
of which both Cambridge and Oxford were at that time
almost destitute. It embraced all the faculties, and no
degrees in Europe stood so high as guarantees of general
acquirements. Erasmus reoords it as a comipon saying,
that " no one could graduate at Louvain without know-
ledge, manners, and age." Sir William Hamilton speaks
of the examination at I.ouvain for a degree in arts as " the
best example upon record of the true mode of such ex
amination, and, until recent times, in fact, the only ex-
ample in the history of universities worthy of consideration
at all." He has translated from Vernuloeus the order and
method of this examination.- In 178S ihe faculties of
jurisprudence, medicine, and philosophy wej-e removed to
Brussels, and in 1797 the French suspended the university
altogether. When Belgium was formed into an indepen-
dent state in 1S31, the university was refounded as a
Roman Catholic foundation.
The circumstances of the foundation of the university
of Leipsic are especially noteworthy, it having been the
result of the migration of almost the entire German
clement from the university of Prague. This element
comprised (1) Bavarians, (2) Saxons, (3) Poles (this last-
named division being drawn from a wide area, which in-
cluded Meissen, Lusatia, Silesia, and Prussia), and, bein"
^ . 1^ I 5
^ MeiDers, Gesch. d. hohen Schulcn^ i. 370.
Oissertatiotis and Discussions, Append, iii.
represented by three votes in the assemblies of the uni-
versity, while the Bohemians possessed but one, had ac-
quired a preponderance in the direction of affairs which
the latter could no longer submit to. Religious differ-
ences, again, evoked mainly by the preaching of John
Huss, further intensified the existing disagreements; and
eventually, in the year 1409, King Wenceslaus, at tho
prayer of his Bohemian subjects, issued a decree which
exactly reversed the previous distribution of votes, — three
votes being assigned to the Bohemian'nation and only ono
to all the rest. The Germans took deep umbrage, and
seceded to Leipsic, where, a bull having been obtained
from Alexander V. (9th September 1409), a new '' studium
generale " was founded by the landgrave of Thuringia
aad the i.iargraves of Meissen. The members were divided
into four nations — composed of natives of Meissen, Saxony,
Bavaria, aud Poland. Two colleges were founded, a greater
and a snialler, but designed, not for poor students, but
for masters of arts — twelve being admitted on the former
and eight on the latter foundation. The first university Rostock
of northern Germany was that of Rostock, founded by
the dukes John and Albert of Mecklenburg, tho scheme
receiving tiie sanction of Martin V. in a bull dated 13tli
February 1419 as that of a "studium generale " in all the
faculties excepting theology. The faculty of theology wa;
added in the year 1432. Two colleges were also founded,
with the same design and on the same scale as at Leipsic.
No little illustration is afforded by the circumstances
attending the foundation of the French universities of the
struggle that was going on between the crown and the
Roman see. The earliest foundation in the loth century poiiier.
was that of Poitiers. It was instituted by Charles YII. in
1431, almost immediately after his accession, with the
special design of creating a centre of learning less favour-
able to English interests than Paris had at that time shown
herself to be. Eugenius IV. could not refuse his sanction
to the scheme, but he cndt-avoured partially to defeat
Charles's design by conferring on the new " studium
generale " only the same privileges as those possessed by
Toulouse, and thus placing it at a disadvantage in com
parison with Paris. Charles rejoined by an extraordinary
exercise of his own preiogative, conferring on Poitiers all
the privileges collectively possessed by Paris, Toulouse,
Montpellier, Angers, and Orleans, and at the same time
placing the university under special royal protection. The C.ieu,
foundation of the university of Caen, in the diocese of
Bayeux, was attended by conditions almost exactly the
reverse of those which belonged to the foundation of that
at Poitiers. It was founded under English auspices during
the short period of the supremacy of the English arms in
Normandy in the 15th century. Its charter (May 1437)
was given by Eugenius IV., and the bishop of Bayeux was
appointed its chancellor. The university of Paris had by
this time completely forfeited the favour of Eugenius by
its attitude at tho council of Basel, and Eugenius inserted
in the charter for Caen a clause of an entirely novel char-
acter, requiring all those admitted to degrees to take an
oath of fidelity to the see of Rome, and to bind themselves
to attempt nothing prejudicial to her interests. To this
proviso the pragmatic sanction of Bourges was the reply
given by Charles in the following year. On ISth >iay
1442 we find King Henry VI. writing to Eugenius, and
dwelling with satisfaction on the rapid progress of the new
university, to which, he says, students had flocked from all
quarters, and were still daiJy arriving." On 30th October
1152 its charter was given afresh by Charles in terms
which left the original charter unrecognized ; both teachers
and learners were made subject to the civil authorities of
the city, while all privileges conferred in tlie former charter
' Bckynton's CorrespondC'tcf, i. 123.
xxiir. —
io6
842
UNIVERSITIES
Berdeaui
ValeiK*,
Naotes,
in cases of legal disputes were abolished. From this time
the university of Caen was distinguished by its loyal
spirit and 6rm resistance to ultramontane pretensions ;
and, although swept away at the French Revolution, it was
afterwards restored, owing to the sense of the services it
had thus once rendered to the national cause.' No especi-
ally notable circumstances characterise the foundation of
the university of Bordeaux (1441) or that of Valence
(1452), but that of Nantes, which received its charter from
Pius fl. in 1463, is distinguished by the fact that it did
not receive the ratification of the king of France, and the
conditions under which its earlier traditions were formed
thus closely resemble those of Poitiers. It seems also to
have been regarded with particular favour by Pius II., a
poQtiS who was at once a ripe scholar and a writer upon
education He gave to Nantes a notable body of privi-
leges, which not only represent an embodiment of all the
various privileges granted to universities prior to that date,
but afterwards became, with their copious and somewhat
tautological phraseology, the accepted model for the great
majority of university charters, whether issued by the pope
or by the emperor, or by the civil authority. The bishop
of Nantes was appointed head of the university, and was
charged with the special protection of its privileges against
Bonrgea, all interference from whatever quarter ^ The bull for the
foundation of the university of Bourges was given in 1465
by Paul II. at the request of Louis XI and his brother.
It confers on the community the same privileges as those
enjoyed by the other universities of France. The royal
sanction was given at the petition of the citizens ; but,
from reasons which do not appear, they deemed it neces-
sary further to petition that their charter might also be
registered and enrolled by the parlement of Paris.
G-eifs- In Germany, the first of the universities representing
ood. the new influences above relerred to is that of Ureifswald.
A wealthy burgomaster, who had graduated as a master of
arts at Rostock, was the chief mover ; and, his proposal
being cordially seconded by the city council, the duke of
the province, and certain abbots of neighbouri.ig monas-
teries; the necessary bull was obtained from Ca'ixtus III,
(29th May 1456). The first session was comiBenced in
October of the same year. Three colleges w( re at the
same time founded, — two for masters of arts, as at Leipsic
and Rostock, and a third for jurists. The chairs in the
different faculties were distributed as follows ; theology 3,
jurisprudence 5, medicine l,arts 4, — the number of jurists
showing that the study of the civil law still obtained a
Freiburg, certain preponderance. The university of Freiburg was
founded by the archduke Albert, brother of the emperor
Frederick lEI., — the papal bull being given 20th April
1455, and the imperial ratification in the following year..
The first session was opened in 1460, under the presidency
of Matthew Hummel, a privy councillor, and the original
numbers soon received considerable additions by secessions
from Vienna and from Heidelberg. The endowment was
further augmented by an annual allowance from the city
council, and by certain canonries and livings attached to
neighbouring parishes. In the same year, and probably in
a spirit of direct rivalry, was opened the university of
Basel, The cathedral school in that ancient city, together
with others attached to the monasteries, afforded a suffi-
cient nucleus for a "studium," and Pius II,, who, as
^neas Sylvius, had been a resident in the city, was easily
prevailed upon to grant the charter (12th November 1459).
In the character of its endowments, and in the relative
importance attached to the study of the civil law, Basel
much resembled Greifswald, but its success throughout the
15th century was marred by the languid character.of the
' Do U Rue, Eisais Hiit. sur la Viile de Caen, ii. 137-40.
• Meiners, i. 368.
Baecl,
support afforded it by the civic authorities. Before he had
signed the bull for the foundation of the university «f
Basel, Pius II., at the request of duke William of Bavaria,
had issued another bull for the foundation of a university
at Ingolstadt (7th April 1459). But it was not until ingol-
1472 that the work of teaching was actually commenced stadt,
there. Some long existing prebends, founded by former
dukes of Bavaria, were appropriated to the endowment,
and the chairs in the different faculties were distributed as
follows : — theology 2, jurisprudence 3, medicine 1, arts 6,
— arts in conjunction with theology thus obtaining the
preponderance As at Caen, twenty-two years before, an
oath, of fidelity to the Roman pontiff was imposed on every
student admitted to a degree.^ That this proviso was not
subsequently abolished, as at Caen, is a feature in the
history of the university of Ingolstadt which was attended
by important results. Nowhere did the Reformation meet
with more stubborn resistance, and it was at Ingolstadt
that the Counter-Reformation was commenced. In 1556
the Jesuits made their first settlement in the university.
The next two universities took their rise in the archi Treva
episcopal seats of Treves and Mainz. That at Treves
received its charter as early as 1450 , but the first academ
ical session did not commence until 1473. Here the
ecclesiastical influences appear to have been unfavourable
to the project. The archbishop demanded 2000 florins as
the price of his sanction. The cathedral chapter threw
difficulties in the way of the appropriation of certain,
livings and canonries to the university endowment; and so
.obstinate was their resistance that in 1655 they succeeded
in altogether rescinding the gift on payment of a very
inadequate sum. It was not until 1722 that the assembly
of deputies, by a formal grant, relieved the university
from the difficulties in which it had become involved. The Muni,
university of Mainz, on the other hand, was almost en-
tirely indebted to the archbishop Diether for its founda-
tion It was at his petition that Sixtus IV. granted the
charter, 23d November 1476, and Diether, being himsell
an enthusiastic humanist, thereupon circulated a letter,
couched in elegant Latinity, addressed to students through-
out his diocese, inviting them to repair to the new centre,
and dilating on the advantages of academic .studies and of
learning. The rise of these two universities, however,
neither of which attained to much distinction, represents
little more than the incorporation of certain already exist-
ing institutions into a homogeneous whole, the power of
conferring degrees being superadded. But the university Tubm
of Tubingen, founded by charter of Sixtus IV. (9th S™.
November 1476), represents an entirely new creation.
Its real founder was Mathilda, the mother of Count Eber-
hard of Wiirtemberg, who appropriated five livings and
eight prebends to the endowment. Of the chairs, 3 were
for theology, 3 for the canon and 2 for the civil law, 2 for
medicine, and 4 for arts. The general financial condition
of this university in the year 1541-42, and the sources from
whence its revenues were derived, have been illustrated by
Hoffmann in a short paper which shows the fluctuating
character of the resources of a university in those days, —
liable to be affected, as they were, both by the seasons and
the markets.'
Nearly contemporaneous with these lounaations were UpsAla
those of Upsala (1477) and Copenhagen (1479), which,*""*
although lying without the political boundaries of Germany, j,^^'
reflected her influence. The chaiter for Copenhagen was
given by Sixtus IV. as early as 1475. The students
5 Paulsen, in si>eaking of this proviso as one " die weder vorher noch
iiachher sonst vorkommt," would consequently seem to be not quit^
accurate. See Die Griinduug dcr deutschen Univertilaten, p. 277.
« Oekmomischer Zxtetand der Universilal Tubingen gegai die Mitlt
des 16Un Jahrhunderls, 1845.
UNIVERSITIES
843
\Viiten-
K:\l.k-
lorlon-
ti.e Ode;
attiacted to this new centre were mainly from within llic
radiusoftlie university of Cologne, and its statutes were little
more than a i.-anscript of those of the latter foundation.
The ek'Ctoiates of Wittenberg and Brandenburg were
now the only two considerable "Herman territories which
did not possess a studium gcnerale, and the university
•founded at Wittenberg by Maximiliar. I. (6th July 1502)
is notable as the first established in Germany by virtue of
an imperial as distinguished from a papal decree. Its
charter is, however, drawn u;) with the traditional [ihrase-
ology of the [lontifical bulls, and is evidently not conceived
in any spirit of antagonism to Rome. Wittenberg is con-
stituted a " studium generale " in all the four faculties, —
the right to confer degrees in theology and canon law
having been tanctioned by the papal legate some months
before, 2d February 1502. The endowment of the uni-
versity with church revenues duly received the papal
sanction, — a bull of Alexander YI. authorizing the a[)pro-
priation of twelve canonries attached to the castle church,
as well as of eleven prebends in outlying districts — ul sic
jxr mnnevi modum uimni coif us ex slmlio d colliyio prx-
dictis fial el constitualur. No university in Germany
attracted to itself a larger share of the attention of Europe
at its conmicncement. And it was its distinguishing merit
that it was the first academic centre north the Alps where
tho anticpiated methods and barbarous Latinity of the
scholastic era were overtluowii. The last university
founded in GcVmany prior to the' Reformation was that of
Frankfort on the-Oder. The design, first conceived by
the ckilor John of Brandenburg, was carried into cxecu-,
tion by his bon Joachim, at whose request Pope Julius If.
i.->sucd a bull for ihe foundation, 1.5th March 150C. An
imperial ch.irtcr, identical in its contents with the papal
bull, followed on 2Glli October. The university received
an endowment of canonries and livings similar to that of
Wittenberg, and .some houses in the city were assigned for
its use by tho elector.
The first university in Scotland was that of St Andrews,
founded in 1111 by Henry Wardlaw bishop of that see,
and modelled chiefly on the constitution of the university
of Paris. It acquired all its three colleges — St Salvator's,
St Leonard's, and St Mary's — before the- Reformation, —
the first having been founded in 1456 by Bishop James
Kennedy; the second in 1512 by the youthful archbishop
Alexander Stuart (natural son of James IV.) and John
Hepburn, the prior of the monastery of St Andrews; and
the third, also in 1512, by the Beaton^, who in the year
1537 procur.'d a bull from Pope Paul III. dedicating the
college to the Blessed Virgin Mary of the Assumption, and
adding further endowments. The most ancient of the
universities of Scotland, with its three colleges, was thus
reared in an atmosphere of mediieval theology, and un-
doubtedly designed as a bulwark against heresy and
schism. But "by 'a strange irony of fate," it has been
observed, "two of these colleges became, almost from the
first, the foremost agents in working tho overthrow of that
church which they were founded to defend." St Leonard's
more especially, like St John's or Queens' at Cambridge,
became a noted centre of intellectual life and Reformation
principles. That he " had drunk at St Leonard's well "
became a current expression for implying that a theologian
Ol.isgow, had imbibed the doctrines of Protestantism. The univer-
'sity of Glasgow was founded as a " studium generale " in
1453, and [Mssessed two colleges. Prior to the Reforma-
tion it acquired but little celebrity ; its discipline was lax,
and the number of the students but small, while the in-
struction was not only inefficient but irregularly given; no
funds were provided for the maintenance of regular lectures
in the higher faculties; and there was no adequate execu-
tive power for the maintenance of disiipline. The uui-
Sl Ku
vcrsity of Aberdeen, which was founded in 1494, at first Abcrfeea
possessed only une college, — namely, King's. Marischal
College, founded in 1593 by George Keith, fifth Earl
Marischal, was constituted by its founder independent of
the university in Old Aberdeen, being itself both a col-
lege and a university, with the power of conferring degrees.
Bishop Elphinstone, the founder both of the university and
of King's College (1505), had been educated at Glasgow,
and had subsequently both studied and taught at Paris
and at Orleans. To the wider experience which he had
thus gained we may probably attribute the fact that the
constitution of the university of Aberdeen was free from
the glaring defects which then characterized that of the
university of Glasgow.' But in all the mediaeval uni-
versities of Germany, England, and Scotland, modelled as
they were on a common type, the absence of adequate
discipline was, in a greater or less degree, a common
defect. In connexion with this feature we may note the
comparatively ■'inall percentage of matriculated students
proceeding to the degrees of B.A. and M.A. when com-
pared with later times. Of this disparity the following Degrees
table, exhibiting the relative numbers in the university of taken at
Leipsic for every ten years from the year 1427 to 1552, ^'P^**
probably affords a fair average illustration, — the remark-
able fluctuations probably depending quite as much upon
the comparative hoalthjness of the period (in respect of
freedom from epidemic) and the abundance of the harvests
as upon any other cause : —
Vears-
Matiicu-
lationa.
Years.
B.A
.M.A
reiccntagoof
E.A-s.
.M.As.
H-27-1430
737
1420-1432
151
28
-20-4
3-8
1437-1440
715
1439-1442
199
50
27-8
6-9
1447-1450
SOS
1449-1452
274
(50)
33 9
1457-1460
1,4-47
1459-1462
559
81
33-6
5-6
1467-1170
1,137
14G9-1472
410
61
36 0
5-4
1477-1480
1,163
1479-14S2
453
49
39-4
4-2
HS7-1490
1,S53
1489-1492
714
62
33-4
3-4
1497-1500
1,2SS
1499-1502
497
59
38-5
4-6
1507-1510
1,948
1509-1512
510
65
26 1
3 4
1517-1520
1,445
1519-1522.
247
35
170
2-4
15-27-1530
419
1529-1532
77
33
18 4
7-9
1537-1540
6S6
1539-1542
122
27
17 3
3 9
1547-1550
1,313
14,969
1549-1552
■200
72
15-2
5 5
4418
672
29-5
4-5
The' German universities in these times seem to haveGeneml
admitted for the most part their inferiority in learning to aspects of
older and more favoured centres ; and their consciousness „g?J!f,.Vi
of the fact is shown by the efforts which they made to univer.
attract instructors from Italy, and by the frequent resort sitiea,
of the more ambitious students to schools like Paris,
Bologna, Padua, and Pavia. That they took their rise in
any spirit of systematic opposition to the Roman see (as
Meiners and others have contended), or that their orga-
nization was something external to and independent of tbe
church, is sufficiently disproved by the foregoing evidence.
Generally speaking, they were eininently conservative
bodies, and the new learning of the humanists and the
new methods of instruction that now began to demand
attention were alike for a long period unable to gain ad-
mission within academic circles. Reformers such as Hegius,
John Wessel, and Rudolphus Agricola carried on their
work at places like Deven'ter remote from university in-
fluences. That there was a considerable amount of mental
activity going on in the universities themselves is not to
be denied ; but it was mostly of that unprofitable kind
which, while giving rise to endless controversy, turned upon
questions in connexion with which the implied postulates
and the terminology employed rendered all scientific invests
Fasli Aierdo7iehses, .ref. p.
844
UNIVERSITIES
Abandon'
tnent of
logical
studies
'" Italy.
High re-
patation
of Italiao
profes-
sors.
■Eventa
pro-
ducing-
divisioDB
in uni-
versity
history.
gation hopeless. At almost every university — Leipsic,
Greifswald, and Prague (after 1209) being the principal
exc .ptions — the so-called Realists and Nominalists repre-
sented two great parties occupied with an internecine
struggle. At Paris, owing to the overwhelming strength
of the theologians, the Nominalists were indeed under a
kind of ban ; but at Heidelberg they had altogether ex-
pelled their antagonists. It was much the same at Vienna
and at Erfurt, — the latter, from the ready reception which
it rave to new speculation, being styled by its enemies
" novorum omnium portus." At Basel, under the leadership
of the eminent Johannes a Lapide, the Realists with diffi-
culty maintained their ground. Freiburg, Tubingen, and
Ingolstadt, in the hope of diminishing controversy, arrived
at a kind of compromise, each party having its own pro-
fe.ssor, and representing a distinct " nation" At Mainz the
authorities adopted a manual of logic which was essentially
an embodiment of Nominalistic principles.
la Italy, almost without exception, it was decided ,that
tliese controversies were endless, and that their effects were
pernicious It was resolved, accordingly, to expel logic,
and allow its place to be filled by rhetoric. It was by
virtue of this decision, which was of a tacit rather than a
formal character, that the expounders of the new learning
in the 15th century, men like Emmanuel Chrysoloras,
Guarino, Leonardo Bruni, Bessarion, Argyropulos, and
Valla, carried into effect that important revolution in
academic studies which constitutes a hew era in university
learning, and largely helped to pave the way for the Re-
formation ' This discouragement of the controversial
spirit, continued as it was in relation to theological ques-
tions after the Reformation, obtained for the Italian uni-
versities a fortunate immunity from dissensions like those
which, as we shall shortly see, distracted the centres of
learning in Germany. The professorial body also attained
to an almost unrivalled reputation. It was exceptionally
select, only those who were in receipt of salaries being
permitted, as a rule, to lecture ; it was also famed for its
ability, the institution of concurrent chairs proving an excel-
lent stimulus. These chairs were of two kinds — "ordinary"
and "extraordinary," — the former being the more liberally
endowed and fewer in number. For each subject of im-
portance there were thus always two and sometimes three
rival chairs, and a powerful and continuous emulation
was thus maintained among the teachers " From the
integrity of their patrons, and the lofty starlard by which
they were judged," says Sir W. Hamilton, ' the call to a
Paduan or Pisan ihair was deemed the highest of all
literary honours. The status of professor was in Italy
elevated to a dignity which in other countries it has never
reached ; and not a few of the most illustrious teachers in
the Italian seminaries were of the proudest nobility of the
land While the universities of other countries had fallen
from Christian and cosmopolite to sectarian and local
schools, it is the peculiar glory of the Italian that, under
the enlightened liberality of their patrons, they still con-
tinued to assert their European universality. Creed and
courtry were in them no bar, — the latter not even a reason
of preference Foreigners of every nation are to be found
among their professors ; and the most learned man in
Scotland (Dempster) sought in a Pisan chair that theatre
for his abilities which he could not find at home."^
The Reformation represents the great boundary line in
the history of the mediceval universities, and also, for a
long time after, the main influence in the history of those
new foundations which subsequently arose in Protestant
countries Even in Catholic countries its secondary effects
* For an excellent account of this movement, see Georg Voigt. Die
WiiderbfJebung des classuchen AlUrthums^ id ed., 2 vols., 1880
' HaDjilton. Diacussions, 2d ed., p. 37^
were scarcely less perceptible, as they found expression in
connexion with the Counter Reformation. In Germany
the Thirty Years' War was attended by consequences
which were felt long after the 17th century. In Franca
the Revolution of 1789 resulted in the actual uprooting of
the university system.
The influences of the New Learning, and the special'
character wbich it assumed as itmade its way in Germany
in connexion with the labours of scholars like Erasmus,
John Reuchlin, Ulrich von Hutten, and Melanchthon,
augured well for the future. It was free from the frivol-
ities, the pedantry, the immoralities, and the scepticism
which characterized so large a proportion of the (iorresponJ-
ing culture in Italy. It gave promise of resulting at once
in a critical and enlightened study of the masterpieces of
classical antiquity, and in a reverent and yet rational inter-
pretation of the Scriptures and the fathers. The fierce Per-
bigotry and the ceaseless controversies evoked by the pro- o'^,"""
mulgation of Lutheran or Calvinistic doctrine J'speiled, ^"""^ ^^
however, this hopeful prospect, and converted what might sectsnan
otherwise have become the tranquil abodes of the Muses ism.
into gloomy fortresses of sectarianism. Of the manner in
which it affected the highest culture, the observation of
Henke in his Life of Calixius (i. 8), that for a century
after the Reformation the history of Lutheran theology
becomes almost identified with that of the German uni-
versities, may serve as an illustration.
The first Protestant utiiversity was that of Marburg, Marburg
founded by Philip the Magnanimous, landgrave of Hesse,
30th May 1527. Expressly designed as a bulwark of
Lutheranism, it was mainly built up out of the confiscation
of the property of the religious orders in the Hessian
capital. The house of the Dominicans, who had fled on
the first rumour of spoliatiou, was converted into lecture-
rooms for the faculty of jurisprudence. The church and
convent of the order known as the " Kugelherrn " was -
appropriated to the theological faculty. The friary of the
Barefooted Friars was shared between the faculties of
medicine and philosophy. The university, whi''i was the
object of the margrave's peculiar care, rapidly rose to
celebrity ; it was resorted to by students from remote
countries, even from Greece, and its professors were of
distinguished ability. How much, however, of this popu-
larity depended on its theological associations is to be seen
in the fact that after the year 1605, when, by the decree
of Count Maurice, its formulary of faith was changed from
Lutheran to Calvinistic, its numbers greatly declined.
This dictation of the temporal power now becomes one of
the most notable features in academic history in Protestant
Germany The universities, having repudiated the pipal
authority, while that of the episcopal order was at an end,!
now began to pay especial court to the temporal ruler, and
sought in every way to conciliate his goodwill, representing
with peculiar distinctness the theory, — cujus regio, ejus reti-
gio. This tendency was further strengthened by the fact
that their colleges, bursaries, and other similar foundations
were no longer derived from or supported by ecclesiastical
institutions, but were mainly dependent on thecicil power.
The Lutheran university of Konigsberg was founded 1 7th Konigs-
August 1544 by Albert III., margrave of Brandenburg, ^"V-
and the first duke of Prussia, and his wife Dorothea, a
Danish princess. In this instance, the religious character
of the foundation not having been determined at the com-
mencement, the papa! and the imperial sanction were both
applied for, although not accorded. King Sigismund of
Poland, however, which kingdom exercised at that time a
protectorate over the Prussian duchy, ultimately gave the
necessary charter (29th September 1561), at the same time
ordaining that all students who graduated as masters in .
the faculty of philosophy should rank as nobles of the
UNIVERSITIES
845
Polish kingdom. When Prussia was raised to the rank of
a kingdom (1701) the university was made a royal founda-
tion, and the "collegium Fridericianum," which was then
erected, received corresponding privileges. In 18C2 the
university buildings were rebuilt, and the number of the
students is now nearly one thousand
Jen.T. The Lutheran university of Jena hacf its origin in a
gymnasium founded by John Frederick the Magnanimous,
elector of Saxony, during his imprisonment, for the express
purpose of promoting Evangelical doctrines and repairing
the loss of Wittenberg, where the Philippists had gained
the ascendency. Its charter, which the emperor Charles
V. refused to grant, and which was obtained with some
difficulty from his brother, Ferdinand I., eventually en-
abled the authorities to open the university, 2d February
150S. Distinguished for its vehement assertion of Luth-
eran doctrine, its hostility to the teaching of Wittenberg
was hardly less pronounced than that with which both
centres regard Roman Catholicism. For a long time it
was chiefly noted as a school of medicine, and in the 17th
and 18th centuries it was in bad repute for the lawlessness
of its students, among whom riuelling prevailed to a scan-
dalous extent. The beauty of its situation and the eoiin-
ence of its professoriate hate, however, generally attracted
a considerable proportion of students from other countries.
Its numbers in 1885 were 5C6.
Helm- The Lutheran university of Helmstadt, founded by
tudt Duke Julius (of the house of Brunswick-Wolfenbiittel),
and designated after him in its official records as " Acade-
raia Julia," received its charter, Sth May 1575, from the
emperor Maximilian II. No university in the ICth cen-
tury commenced under more favourable auspices. It was
munificently endowed by the founder and by his son; and
its " Convictorium,", or college for poor students, expended
in the course of thirty years no less than 100,000 thalers,
an extraordinary expenditure for an institution of such a
character in those days. Beautifully and conveniently
situated in what had now become the well-peopled region
between the Weser and the lower Elbe, and distinguished
by its comparatively temperate maintenance of the Luth-
eran tenets, it attracted a considerable concourse of
students, especially from the upper classes, not a few being
of princely rank. Throughout its history, until suppressed
in 1809, Helmstadt enjoyed the special and powerful
patronage of the dukes of Saxony.
AltJ-^rf. The "Gymnasium jEgidianum" of Nuremberg, founded
in 1526, and removed in 1575 to Altdorf, represents the
origin of the university of Altdorf. A charter was granted
in 1578 by the emperor Rudolph II., and the university
was formally opened in 1580. It was at first, however,
empowered only to grant degrees in arts; but in 1623 the
emperor Ferdinand II. added the permission to create
doctors of law and medicine, and also to confer crowns on
poets ; and in 1697 its faculties were completed by the
permission given by the emperor Leopold I. to create
doctors of theology. Like Louvain, Altdorf was nominally
ruled by the municipality, but in the latter university this
[lower of control remained practically inoperative, and
the consequent freedom enjoyed by the community from
evils like those which brought about the decline of
Louvain is thus described by Hamilton : — " The decline
of that great and wealthy seminary (Louvain) was mainly
determined by its vicious patronage, both as vested in the
university and in the town. Altdorf, on the other hand,
was about the poorest university in Germany, and long one
of the most eminent. Its whole endowment never rose
above .£800 a year ; and, till the period of its declension,
the professors of Altdorf make at least as distinguished a
figure in the history of philosophy as those of all the eight
universities of the British empire together. On looking
closely into its constitution the anomaly is at once solved.
The patrician senate of Nuremberg were too intelligent and
patriotic to attempt the exercise of such a function. The
nomination of professors, though formally ratified by the
senate, was virtually made by a board of four curators; and
what is worthy of remark, as long as curatorial patronage .
was a singularity in Germany, Altdorf maintained its rela-
tive pre-eminence, losing it only when a similar mean wa3
adopted in the more favoured universities of the empire."'
The conversion of Marburg into a school of Calvinistic GiMsen.
doctrine gave occasion to the foundation of the universities
of Giessen and of Rinteln. Of these the former, founded by
the margrave of Darmstadt, Louis V., as a kind of refuge
for the Lutheran professors from Marburg, received its
charter from the emperor Rudolph II., 19th May 1607.
^\^len, however, the rr,argraves of Darmstadt acquired
possession of Marburg in 1625, the university was trans-
ferred thither; in 1650 it was moved back again to
Giessen. The number of matriculated students at the com-
mencement of the century was about 25Q ; in 1887 it was
484. In common with the other universities of Germany,
but with a facility which obtained for it a specially unenvi-
able reputation, Giessen was for a long time wont to confer
the degree of doctor in absentia in the different faculties
without requiring adequate credentials. This practice,
however, which drew forth an emphatic protest from the
eminent historian Mommsen, has within the last few years
been entirely abandoned. The university of Rinteln was Rint«Ia,
founded 17th July 1621 by the emperor Ferdinand IL
Almost immediately after its foundation it became the
prey of contending parties in the Thirty Years' War, and its
early development was thus materially hindered. It never,
however, attained to much distinction, and in 1819 it was
suppressed. The university of Strasburg was founded in Stras-
1G21 on the basis of an already existing academy, to which bnig,
the celebrated John Sturm stood, during the latter part of
his life, in the relation of " rector perpetuus," and of which
we are told that in 1578 it included more than a thousand
scholars, among whom were 200 of the nobility, 24 co".nt3
and barons, and three princes. It also attracted students
from all parts of Europe, and especially from Portugal,
Poland, Denmark, France, and England. The method of
Sturm's teaching became the basis of that of the Jesuits,
and through them of the public school instruction in Eng-
land. In 1621 Ferdinand II. conferred on this academy
full privileges as a university ; in the language of the
charter, "in omnibus facultatibus, doctores, licentiatos,
magistros, et baccalaureos, atque insuper ^locias laureates
creatfdi et promovendi." ^ In 1681 Strasburg became
French, and remained so until 1870.
The university of Dorpat (now Russian) was founded Dorpat
by Gustavus Adolphus in 1632, and reconstituted by the
emperor Alexander I. in 1802. A special interest attaches
to this university from the fact that it has for a long time
been the scene of the contending influences of Teutonism
and Slavonianism. Situated in Livonia, which at the time
of its foundation represented a kind of debateable land
between Russia and Poland, its gradual monopoly by the
former country has not been without resistance and pro-
tests on the part of that Teutonic element which was at
one time the more potent in its midst. The study of tie
Slavonic languages has here received considerable stimulus,
and by a decree in May 1887 the use of the Russian lan-
guage having been made obligatory in all places of instruc-
tion through the Baltic provinces, Russian has now taken
the place of German as the language of the lecture-room.
Dorpat possesses a fine library of over 80,000 volumes, and
is also noted for its admirable botanical collection. Tha
' Discussions, ic, 2d eA, pp. 38S-S.
» Prmnulj. Acad. Privil.. &c., Strasburg, 1628,
846
UNIVERSITIES
Prague.
berg.
Jons-
bruck.
Breslan.
Tbo
Jesuits
in the
uni- .
venitv
Russian minister has also recently instituted a profesBor-
ship of the comparative grammar of the Slavonic dialects
(now filled by J Baudouin de Courtonay). The general
influence of the university has been rapidly extending
during the last few years far beyond the Baltic provinces.
The number of students, which in 1879 was 1106, in 1886
was 1751.' A like contest between contending nation-
alities has recently met with a final solution at Prague,
where a Czech university has been established on an inde-
pendent basis, the German university having commenced
Its separate career in the winter session of 1882-83. The
German foundation retains its endowments, but the state
subvention is divided between the two.
The repudiation on the part of the Protestant univer-
sities of both papal, and episcopal authority evoked a
counter-demonstration among those centres which 'Still
adhered to Catholitisrn, while their theological intolerance
gave rise to a great reaction, under the influence of which
tlie mediaeval Catholic universities were reinvigorated and
reorganized (although strictly on the traditional lines),
while Hew and important centres were created. It was on
the tide of this reaction, aidfd by their own skill and
.sagacity, that the Jesuits were borne to that commanding
position which made them for a time the arbiters of educa-
tion in Europe. The earliest university whose charter
represented this reaction was that of Bamberg, founded by
the prince-bishop Melchior Otto, after whom it was named
" Academia Ottoniana." It was opened 1st September
1G48, and received both from the emperor Frederick III.
and Pope Innocent X. all the civil and ecclesiastical privi-
leges of a medieval foundation. At first, however, it com-
prised only the faculties of arts and of theology; to these
was added in 1729 that of jurisprudence, and in 1764 that
of medicine. In this latter faculty Dr Ignatius Dollinger
(the father of the historian) was for a long time a distin-
guished professor. The university of Innsbruck was
founded in 1672 by the emperor Leopold I., from whom
it received its name of " academia Leopoldina. " In the
following century, under the patronage of the empress
Maria Theresa, it made considerable progress, and received
from her its ancient library and bookshelves in 1745. In
1782 the university underwent a somewhat singular
change, being reduced by the emperor Joseph II. from the
status of a university to that of a lyceuni, although retain-
ing in the theological faculty the right of conferring de-
grees. In 1791 it was restored to its 'privileges by the
emperor Leopold II., and since that time the faculties of
piiilosophy, law, and medicine have been represented in
nearly equal proportions. In 1886 the number of profes-
sors was 74, and of students 869. The foundation of the
university of Breslau was contemplated as early as the year
1505, when Ladislaus, king of Hungary, gave his sanction
to the project, but Pope Julius II., in the assumed interests
of Cracow, withheld his assent. Nearly two centuries
later, in 1702, under singularly altered conditions, the
Jesuits prevailed upon the emperor Leopold I. to found a
university without soliciting the papal sanction. When
Frederick the Great conquered Silesia in 1741, he took
both the university and the Jesuits in Breslau under his
protection, and when in 1774 the order was suppressed by
Clement XIV. he established them as priests in the Royal
Scholastic Institute, at the same time giving new statutes
to the university. In 1811 the university was considerably
augmented by the incorporation of that at Frankfort-on-
the-Oder. At the present time it possesses both a Catholic
and a Lutheran faculty. Its medical faculty is in high
repute. The total number of students in 1887 was 1347.
In no country was the influence of the Jesuits on the
' Seo Die dcutsche Univcrsitat Itorpat im LichU der O'escliichte,
universities more marked than m France. The civil wars
in that country during the thirty years which preceded the
close of the 16th century told with disastrous effect* upon
the condition of the university of Paris, and with the com-
mencement of the 17th century its collegiate life seemed
at an end, and its forty colleges stood absolutely deserted.
To this state of affairs the obstinate conservatism of the
academic authorities not a little contributed. The statutes
by which the university was still governed were those
which had been given by the cardinal D'Estouteville, the
papal legate, in 1452, and remained entirely unmodified by
the influences of the Renaissance. In 1579 the edict of
Blois promulgated a scheme of organi:;atinn for all the
universities of the realm (at that time twenty-one in
number), — a measure which, though productive of unity of
teaching, did nothing towards the advancement of the
studies themselves. The eminent lawyers of France, un-
able to find chairs in Paris, distributed themselves among
the chief towns of the provinces. The Jesuits did not fail
to profit by this immobility and excessive conservatism ou
the part of the university, and during the second half of
the 16th century and the whole of the 17th they had con-
trived to gain almost a complete monopoly of both the
higher and the lower education of provincial France.
Their .schools arose at Toulouse and Bordeaux, at Audi,
Agen, Rhodez, Porigueux, Limoges, Le Puy, Aubenas,
Beziers, Tournon, in the colleges of Flanders and Lorraine,
Douai and Pont-ii-Mousson, — places beyond the jurisdic-
tion of the parlement of Paris or even of the crown of
France. Their banishment from Paris itself had been by
the decree of the parlement alone, and had never been
confirmed by the crown. " Lyons," says Pattison, " loudly
demanded a Jesuit college, and even the Huguenot Les-
diguieres, almost king in DauphiniS, was preparing to erect
one at Grenoble. Amiens, Rheims, Rouen, Dijon, and
Bourges were only waiting a favourable opportunity to
introduce the Jesuits within their walls."'^ The university
was rescued from the fate which seemed to threaten it only
by the excellent statutes given by Richer in 1598, and by
the discerning protection extended to it by Henry IV.
The "college'of Edinburgh" was founded by charter
of James VL, dated 14th April 1582. This document
contains no reference to a studium generale, nor is there
ground for supposing that the foundation of a university
was at that time contemplated. In marked contrast to the
three older centres in Scotland, the college rose compara-
tively untrammelled by the traditions of niedicevalism, and
its creation was not effected without some jealousy and
opposition on the part of its predecessors. Its first course
of instruction was commenced in the Kirk of Field, under
the direction of Robert Rollock, who had been educated at
St Andrews under Andrew Melville, the eminent Coven-
anter. " He began to teach," says Craufurd, " in the
lower hall of the great lodging, there being a great con-
course of students allured with the great worth of the
man ; but diverse of them being not ripe enough in the
Latin tongue, were in November next put under the charge
of Mr Duncan Name, . who, upon Mr Rollock's recom-
mendation, was chosen second master of the college."^ In
1585 both Rollock and Nairne subscribed the National Cov-
enant, and a like subscription was from that time required
from all who were admitted to degree' 'i Jie college.
Disastrous as were the ( Tccts of the Thirty Years' War
upon the external condition of the Germ.aii Uriiversities,
resulting in not a few instances in the total nisporsion of
the students and the burning of the buildings and libraries,
they were less detrimental and less iiermanent than those
which were discernible in the tone and temper of these
" Li/e of Cttsaubon, p. 181.
' CraufurJ, Hist, of the Univ. of Edinburgh, pp. 19-28.
Conclition
of tll8
uni-
versity of
Paris.
College)
of the
Jesuits in
Krani-e.
Bliii-
burgh.
Rein 11 >
of tllL-
Thnt>
Years'
War.
UNIVERSITIES
847
commuuities. A formal [jedaiitry and unintelligent method
of study, combined with a passionate dogmatism in matters
of religious belief, and a rude contempt for the amenities of
social intercourse, became the leading characteristics, and
Dalle. lasted throughout the 17th century. But in the year
1G93 the foundation of the university of Halle opened up
a career to two very eminent men, whose influence, widely
different as was its character, may be compared for its
effects with that of Luther aud Melanchthon, and served to
modify the whole current of German philosophy and Ger-
man theology. Halle has indeed been described as " the
first real modern university," It was really indebted for
its origin to a spirit of rivalry between the conservatism of
Saxony and the progressive tendencies of the house of
Brandenburg, but the occasion of its rise was the removal
of the ducal court from Halle to Magdeburg. The arch-
bishopric of the latter city having passed Into the posses-
sion of Brandenburg in 16S0 was changed into a dukedom,
and the city itself was selected as the ducal residence.
This change left unoccupied some commodious buildings in
Halle, which it was decided to utilize for purposes of
education. A " Ritterschule" for the sons of the nobility
was opened, and in the course of a few years it was decided
to found a university. Saxony endeavoured to thwart the
scheme, urging the pro.ximity of Leipsic ; but her opposi-
tion was overruled by the emperor Leopold I., who granted
(19th October 1693) the requisite charter, and in the
following year the work of the university commenced.
Frankfort-on-the-Oder had by this time become a centre of
the Reformed party, and the primary object In founding
a university in Halle was to create a centre for the
Lutheran party, but its character, under the influence of
Infltiaice its two most notable teachers,, Christian Thomasius and A.
"f H. Francke, soon expanded beyond the limits of this con-
"^l'""' , ccption to assume a highly original form. Thomasius and
rra^.;ke!' Francke had both been driven from Leipsic owing to the
disfavour with which their liberal and progressive tend-
encies were there regarded by the academic authorities,
and on many points the two teachers were in agreement.
They both regarded with contempt alike the scholastic
philosophy and the scholastic theology; they both desired
to see the rule of the civil power superseding that of the
ecclesiastical power in the seats of learning ; they were
both opposed to the ascendency of classical studies as ex-
pounded by the humanists — Fxancke regarding the Greek
and Roman pagan writers with the old traditional dislike,
as immoral, while Thomasius looked upon them with con-
tempt, as antiquated and representing only a standpoint
which had been long left behind ; both again agreed as to
the desirability of including the elements of modern culture
ifl the education of the young. But here their agreement
ceased. It was the aim of Thomasius, as far as possible,
to secularize education, and to introduce among his country-
men French habits and French modes of thought ; his own
attire was gay and fashionable, and lie was in the habit
of taking his seat in the professorial chair adorned with
gold chain and rings, and with liis dagger by his side.
Francke, who became the leader of the Pietists, regarded
all this with even greater aversion than he did the lifeless
orthodoxy traditional in the universities, and was shocked
at the worldly tone and disregard for sacred things which
characterized his brother professor. Both, howfever, com-
manded a considerable following among the students.
Thomasius was professor in the faculty of jurisprudence,
Francke in that of theology. And it was a common pre-
diction in those days with respect to a student who pro-
posed to pursue his academic career at Halle, that he would
infallibly become either an atheist or a Pietist. But the
services rendered by Thomasius to learning were genuine
anu lasting. He was the first to set the example, soon
after followed by all the universities of Germany, of lectur-
ing in the vernacular instead of in the customary Latin; and
the discourse in which he first departed from the traditional
method was devoted to the consideratio of how far the
German nation might with advantage imitate the French
in matters of social life and intercourse. His more general
views, as a disciple of the Cartesian philosophy and founder
of the modern Ralionalismus, exposed him to incessant
attacks ; but by the establishment of a monthly journal (at
that time an original idea) he obtained a cliannel for ex-
pounding his views and refuting his antagonists whi:h
gave him a great advantage. On the influence of Francke,
as the founder of that Pietistic school with which the re-
putation of Halle afterwards became especially identified,
it is unnecessary here to dilate.* J. C. Wolf, who followed
Thomasius as an assertor of the new culture, was driven
from Halle by the accusations of the Pietists, who declared
that his teaching was fraught with atheistical principles.
In 1740, however, he was recalled by Frederick II., and
reinstated in high office with every mark of consideration
and respect. Throughout the whole of the 18th century
Halle was the leader of academic thought and culture In
Protestant Germany, although sharing that leadership,
after the middle of the century, with Guttingen. The nni- Gotiio-
versity of Gbttingen (named after its founder " Georgia ?«a-
Augusta ") was e,ndowed with the amplest privileges as a
university by George II. of England, elector of Hanover,
7th December 1736. The imperial sanction of the scheme
had been given three years before (I3th January 1733),
and the_ university was formally opened 17th September
1737. The king himself assumed the office of " rector magni-
ficentissimus," and the liberality of the royal endowments
(doubling those of Halle), and the not less liberal character
of the spirit that pervaded its organization, soon raised it
to a foremost place among the schools of Germany. Halle'
had just expelled Wolf; and Gbttingen, modelled on the'
same lines as Halle, but rejecting its Pietism and dis-
claiming its intolerance, appealed with remarkable success
to the most enlightened feeling of the time. It included
all the faculties, and two of its first professors — Mosheim,
the eminent theologian, from Helmstadt, and Bijhmer, the
no less distinguished jurist, from Halle — together with
Gesner, the man of letters, at once established its repu-
tation. Much of its early success was also due to the
supervision of its chief curator (there were two), — Baron
Miinchausen, himself a man of considerable attainments,
who by his sagacious superintendence did much to pro-
mote the general efficiency of the whole professoriate. Not
least among its attractions was also Its splendid library,
located in an ancient monastery, and now containing over
200,000 volumes and 5000 MSS. In addition to Its
general influence "as a distinguished seat of learning,
Giittingen may claim to have been mainly instrumental In
diffusing a more adequate conception of the importance of
the study of history. Before the latter half of the 18th
century the mode of treatment adopted by university
lecturers was singularly wanting in breadth of view. Pro-
fane history was held of but little account, excepting so far
as it served to illustrate ecclesiastical and sacred history,
while this, again, was invariably treated In the narrow
spirit of the polemic, intent mainly on the defence of his
own confession, according as he represented the Lutheran
or the Reformed Church. The labours of the professors
at Gbttingen, especially Putter, Gatterer, Schlozer, and
Splttler, combined with those of Mascov at Leipsic, did
much towards promoting both a more catholic treatment
and a wider scope. Not less beneficial was the example
set at Gbttingen of securing the appointment of its profes-
sors by a less prejudiced and partial body than a university
' ' See Paulsen, Ocsch. des gckhrten Untcrrichls, &c. , pp. S4S-35S.
84;
UNIVERSITIES
Tie
Euglish
and Ger.
man uni-
versities
com-
pared.
board IS only too likely to become "'The great Mun-
chausen, says an illustrious professor of that seminary,
' allowed our university the right of presentation, of desig-
nation, or of recommendation, as little as the right of free
election ; for he was taught by experience that, although
the faculties of universities may know the individua's best
.[ualified to supply their vacant chairs, tliey are seldom
or never disposed to jyropose for appointment the worthiest
within thei ■ knmvled(/e ' " ' The system oi patronage adopted
at Gottinj;en was, in fact, identical with that which had
already been instituted m the universities of the Nether-
Erlaiigen. lands by Douza (see infra, p. 850) The university of
Erlangen, a Lutheran centre, was lounded by Frederick,
margrave of Baireuth Its charter was granted by the
emperor Charles VII , Slst February 1743, and the uni-
versity was formally constituted. 4lb November. From
its special guardian, Alexander the last margrave of Ans-
bacb, it was stylid " Academia Ale.xandrina." In 1791,
Ansbach and Baireuth having passed into the possession of
Prussia, Erlangen became subject to the Prussian Govern-
ment Th« number of the students, which at the com-
mencement oi the century was under 300, was 880 in 1SS7.
On comparison with the great English universities, the
uniuersities of Germany must be pronounced inferior both
in point of discipline and of moral control over the
students. The superiority of the former in these respects
IS partly to be attributed to the more systematic care which
they took, from a very early date, for the supervision of
each student, by requiring that within a certain specified
time after his entry into the university he should be regis-
tered as a pupil of some master of arts, who was respon-
sible for his conduct, and represented bim generally in his
relations to the academic authorities Marburg in its
earliest statutes (those of 1529) endeavoured to establish
a similar rule, but without success ' The development of
the collegiate system at Oxford and Cambridge materially
assisted the carrying out of this disciphne. Although
sgain, as in the German universities, feuds were not unfre-
c,ucnt, especially those between "north" and "south"
(the natives of the northern and southern counties), the
fact that in elections to fellowships and scholarships only
a certain proportion were allowed to be taken from either
cf these divisions acted as a considerable check upon the
possibility of any one college representing cither element
exclusively. In the German universities, on the other
hand, the ancient division into nations, which died out
with the 15th century, was revived under another form by
the institution of national colleges, which largely served to
foster the spirit of rivalry and contention. The demoral-
ization induced by the Thirty Years War and the increase
of duelling- intensified these tendencies, which, together
with the tyranny of the older over the younger students,
knf^wn as " Fennalismus," were evils against which the
authorities contended, but ineffectually, by various ordin-
:inces. The institution of " Burschenthum," having for its
design the encouragement of good fellowship and social feel-
ing irrespective of nationality, served only as a partial check
upon these excesses, which again received fresh stimulus by
the rival institution of " Landsmannschaften," or societies
of the same nationality. The latter proved singularly pro-
JQcative of duelling, while the arrogant and even tyranni-
* Hamilton, Disatssions, p. 381.
* " Volunnis neraineni in lianc nostram Acadcnii.am admitti, ant per
rcctorem in album recipi, (jni iiou habcat privatum atque donicsticnix
pneccptorem, qui ejus discipuluni agnoseat, ad cujus judicium quisqne
pro sua iiigenii capacitate atque Martc lectnios et publicas ct pvivatas
nudiat, a ci'.jus latere aut raro aut iiunquam discedat." Koch expressly
compares tl>is i>rovision with the discipline of O.xford and Cambridge,
which, down to the commencement of the present century, w.as very
much ef the same character (Koch. Ilcsch. clcs ncadcmixltcn Pddugo-
giums in Marhurj, p. 11).
cal demeanour of their members towards the unassociated
students gave rise to a general combination of the latter for
the purposes of self-defence and organized resistance. At
all the great German universities both these forms of isso-
ciation are to be found existing at the present day.
The political storms which marked the close of the last
and the commencement of the present century gave the
death-blow to not a few of the ancient universities of Ger-
many. Mainz and Cologne ceased to exist in 17*98;
Bamberg, DiUingen, and Duisberg in 1804 ; Rintcln and
Helmstadt in 1809 ; Salzburg in 1810; Erfurt in 1816.
Altdorf was united- to Erlangen in 1807, Frankfort-on-
the-Oder to Breslau in 1809, and Wittenberg to Halle in
1815. The university of Ingolstadt was first moved in
1802 to Landshut, and from thence in 1820 to Munich,
where it was united to the academy of sciences which was
founded in the Bavarian capital in 1759. Of those of the
above centres which altogether ceased to exist but few,
however, were much missed or regretted, — that at Main?,
which had numbered some six hundred students, being the
one notable exception. The others had for the most part
fallen into a perfunctory and lifeless mode of teaching, and,
with wasted or diminished revenues and declining numbei's,
had long ceased worthily to, represent the functions of a
university. Whatever loss may have attended -their sup-
pression has been far more than compensated by the
activity and influence of the three great German univer-
sities which have risen in the present century. Munich
has become a distinguished centre of study in all the
faculties; and its numbers, allowing for the two great wars,
have been continuously on the increase. The number of its
professors in 1887 was over ninety, and that of its students
at the commencement of the session lSSG-87 3209.
The university of Berlin, known as the Royal Friedrich
Wilhelm university, was founded in 1809, immediately
after the peace of Tilsit, when Prussia had been reduced
to the level of a third-rate power. Under the guiding
influence of Wilhelm von Humboldt, however, the prin-
ciples which were adopted in connexion with the new seat
of learning not only raised it to a foremost place among
the universities of Europe, but also largely conduced to the
regeneration of Germany. A notable characteristic in the
university of Berlin at the time of its foundation was its
entire repudiation of attachment to any particular -creed or
school of thought, and professed subservience only to the
interests of science and learning. "Eachoi the eminent
teachers with whom the university began its life — F. A.
Wolf, Fichte, Savigny, Reil — represented only himself, the
path of inquiry or the completed theory which he had
himself propounded. Its subsequent growth was astonish-
ing. In 1813 Berlin had only 36 teachers altogether ; in
1860 there were 173 in all, — 97 professors, 66 privatdo-
centen, and 7 lecturers." In 1866 there were 296 teachers
and 5357 students ; and among the former a large pro'-
portion of the names are already of world-wide reputation,
while its classical school stands unrivalled in Europe.
The university of Bonn, founded in 1818, and known
as the Rhenish Friedrich Wilhelm university, has 88 pro-
fessors and 1125 students. Equally distinguished as a
school of philosophy and a school of theology, it is notable
for the manner in which it combines the opposed schools
of theological doctrine, — that of the Evangelical (or Luth-
eran) Church and that of the* Roman Catholic Church
here standing side by side, and both adorned by eminent
names. This combination (which also exists at Tubingen
and at Breslau) has been attended with complete success
and (according to Dr Dollinger) with unmistakable advant-
ages. When tried, however, a generation before, at Erfurt
and at Heidclbefg, if.- failure was not less conspicuous,
and Erfurt was ruined by the experiment.
Extinc-
tion cf
Germai*
univer-
sities
during
1798-
1815.
Manicb.
Berhn.
Bomi.
r X I Y E R S I T I E S
849
llntisJi
Dr Conrad, professor of political science at Halle, has
recently made the statistics relating to the German uni-
versities the subject of a careful investigation and analysis,
which offer some interesting results. The total cost of the
universities of the German empire is shown to be much
smaller than the total revenues of the English universities
and colleges, although the number both of professors and
students is much larger, and although 42 per cent of the
total expenditure is upon establishments, such as hospitals,
museums, and so forth. But in Germany, 72 per cent, of
the cost of the universities is defrayed by the state, the
students paying, in the shape of fees, only 9'3 per cent.
To a great extent, however, the German universities are
•o be looked upon as professional schools, giving an
education which directly fits a man to earn bis bread as a
clergyman, a lawyer, a judge, a physician, a schoolmaster,
a chemist, an engineer, or an agriculturist. Notwith-
standing the rapid growth in the numbers of the students,
the growth of the professoriate has fully kept pace with
it. la 1890 there were 1809 teachers at work in the
German universities, more than half of whom (967) were
full professors ("ordinarii"), — the proportion of teachers to
students being 1 to 11. This is a much higher propor-
tion than that of Oxford and Cambridge, although in them
there is a large staff of college lecturers, which is practic-
ally more important than the university staffl It is higher
again than the proportion of the Scottish universities, where
mere are only some 10-5 professors to betw.een 5000 and
6000 students, a proportion of ! to between 50 and 60
students. The increase in Germany has taken place partly
by adding on fresh teachers for the old subjects, such
as Latin and Greek, but still more by founding new chairs
for new subjects, such as Oriental and Romance languages,
geography, and arch.^ology, and by subdividing departments
which have been recently developed, such as those con-
nected with political economy, political science, physiology,
«nd biology. Owing to the great development of natural
science, the faculty of philosophy has at some centres in-
creasfel to such an extent as to equal in numbers all the
other facalties put together. This inconvenience has been
differently met at different universities. In those oi
Switzerland, no further remedy has been devised than thai
of appointing separate syndicates or boards of management
! for the two main divisions, — the philosophico-hlstoric and
j the mathematical and natural-scientific ; at Dorpat, Tiibin-
I gen, and Strasburg, on the other hand, these divisions
have been represented by the formation of two distmc'
faculties; while Tiibingen, Munich, and Wurzburg hav.
created, in addition, a third faculty under which ar6
grouped the several subjects of political economy, statis-
tics, and finance.
The following table (taken from Conrad) exhibits the average of Averages
the total number of matriculated students at the German universi- of
ties for every five years f;-om 1831 to 1884; it brings the tendency to students
form large centres very forcibly before the view. The three largest at Ger-
centres — Berlin, Leipsic, ilunich — even in the 6rst quinquennium man aai-
appear as absorbing no less than 35 per cent, of the students, and versities..
iu the last as many as 42 per cent. At the same time, there has
lately been a no less notable increase among the centres of seconA
magnitude. A quarter of a century ago only t\T0 universities had
more than a thousand students ; at present there are nine.
i
i
^
5
«
i
X
1948
1037
968
503
606
776
4C9
1007
401
175
1142
Sl-O
404
EC2
651
2S9
2686
423
318
141
487
t
)
■
1
Berlin.
Breslao..^....
Halle
1S20
902
eio
203
i6i
W.5
331
275
15.>6
44S
273
SM
eei
Il«
soe
3SS
95
1762
681
655
)9S
391
C47
213
774
273
244
1392
440
297
745
570
433
1002
433
367
95
1715
707
21S
347
632
238
670
263
2US
1329
4r2
316
S89
215
917
421
4S4
SS
1461
766
671
190
323
SU6
2S4
076
265
151
1695
5S2
390
832
661
291
970
402
476
S7
1599
822
639
214
so?
34S
6S4
215
141
1700
74:l
475
764
6*4
331
M3
396
363
9S
1593
S31
710
273
390
813
473
6S7
254
149
1292
e4S
523
697
5S4
313
854
4>7
356
121
1972
957
76S
345
445
696
524
721
264
194
1245
C25
474
777
742
303
991
4S2
378
Itt
2213
927
833
4>0
419
866
453
772
332
172
1215
613
369
755
632
277
1433
384
294
152
SICri ; 4S67
127» 11479
1017 '1544
Greifswald ...
Konigsberg..
533
723
944
269
1002
510
262
15S2
930
452
1076
643
426
3lM4
491
i:A>
}i5
725
909
1037
280
10C4
720
352
2468
1167
730
1217
732
615
3433
566
497
232
844
Munster
GotliRgen....
Marburg^
Kiel
Munich.
Wurzburg... .
ErUngea
Tubingen
Heidetberg...
Freiborg
Leipsic
Giessen — ..
Rostock
Snasburg.-.i
Ordiaary ^rfl-I^. Honorarv
B-riin
B.'nn
Bre-MSu- ,. ..
ErlangBD -
Freiboirg _
Gie^'ven
Gottingen
Greifswald....-
Hdlle.
Heidelberg. „
Jena ^. ......
Kiel „.
Konlgsberg...*
Leip«ic. ...... ..»...•...».»..
Marburg
Manich
lluns*er_...
Ko^tock _,_....^. „..,..
Srrasbarg, «.„. „„..,
Tiibineen. _ . ._- ,..,
Wiirzbare.. ,
9wiTZEBijun^~
ItaseU «
■Bern
Genera. . , .. .«...„. ...
Lausanne. . ..„....»...._...
Xetirhaiel... ...
Zurich. - . ..„
RcflstA (Baltic ProTinces)—
Dorr«i_ ., ._
AC^TKIA ASn HUKCACr —
Czcmowiu. . .
Gr»7. ^„,
lnn<iiniek ^ .
CT-i«n»r ... ,
PrjL"i\,'<OcnnAn cnivemty)
Vkim.^
•23—32
Professoes, 4c.
The foUowi.ig table, taken from Aschenon's Dcutscher Unfcrr- Table
silats-KalcndcT, 1 SS7, supplies the most recent statistics respecting of pro-
both the teaching and the student bodies in the different faculties fessors
of the German-speaking universities on the Continent. and
itiidenta.
7S
57
57
S5
41
to
43
35
41
44
67
44
75
22
V9
S»
53
38
41
41
24
3?
26
41
31
33
27
23
30
28.
24
II
24
38
IS
15
10
3
20
16
10
13
6
•a
3
li
n
i<
20
Privat-
docemen.
Assistant
Teachers.
ic.
Teachera
cf
Lanptiages.
ic
124
27
31
9
24
9
21
13
18
20
15
20
19
58
17
65
4
4
19
17
19
29
36
•2^>
2
43
19
31
33
5
II
9
5
1
3
12
296
1>2
131
61
80
59
121
82
110
106
87
78
94
180
82
165
40
39
102
STVDE^■T3.
geJiSi C^hoUc.
794
122
166
3S6
94
239
306
593
72
126
45
235
672
189
87
89
344
94
44
?
7
Jnris-
prudence.
Political
Economy.
Forestry.
Medicine.
Surcer)-.
Phaitnacy.
146
313
160
179
221
7
.201
1282
226
221
118
147
125
145
54
115
193
80
22
112
-38
74
1136
35
195
43
164
9
?
?
56
264
123
489
S52
?
7
1911
1297
292
362
267
423
133
233
441
314
202
210
234
237
781
271
1340
100
333
2-35
934
131
227
MS
231
Philosophy,
PhiloloR-.
Malheina-
dcs, &c
1934
395
433
109
305
1-27
424
121
499
305
191
1C9
231
1040
36G
444
163
105
331
140
179
84
96
7
T
}
143
3U
70
64
f
»
4S0
Total of
Matriculated
Students.
41j7
H21
1347
880
996
484
1041
923
15-27
772
607
480
814
3231
891
3176
475
327
S4S
1247
ISU
354
439
213
1193
7S9
XXIII
107
850
(JNIVERSITIES
c'lujlua-
ilOQS of
— :aibera.
^:- '.ies of
roiled
v:nce3.
Loyden.
Franeker
In 1878 a comparison of the numbers of the students in
the different faculties in the Prussian universities with
those for the year 1867 showed a remarkable diminution
in the faculty of theology, amounting in Lutheran centres
to more than one-half, and in Catholic centres to nearly
three-fourths. In jurisprudence there was an increase of
nearly two-fifths, in medicine a decline of a third, and in
philosophy an increase of one-fourth. During the last few
years, however, the faculties of theology have made some
progress towards regaining their former numbers.
The universities of the United Provinces, like those of
Protestant Germany, were founded by the state as schools
fpr the maintenance of the principles of the Reformation
and the education of the clergy, and afforded in the 16th
and 17th centuries a grateful refuge to not a few of those
Huguenot or Port-Royalist scholars whom persecution
compelled to flee beyond the boundaries of France, as well
as to the Puritan clergy who were driven from England.
The earliest, that of Leyden, founded in 1575, commemo-
rated the gallant and successful resistance of the citizens
to the Spanish fleet under Requesens. Throughout the
17th century Leyden was distinguished by its learning,
the ability of its professors, and the shelter it afforded to
the more liberal thought associated at that period with
Arminianism. Much of its early success was owing to the
■wise provisions and the influence of the celebrated James
Douza : — " Douza'sprinciples," says Hamilton, " were those
which ought to regulate the practice of all academical
patrons; and they were those of his successors. He knew
that at the rate learning was seen prized by the state in
the academy would it be valued by the nation at large.
. . . . He knew that professors wrought more even by
example and influence than by teaching, that it was
theirs to pitch high or low the standard of learning in a
country, and that, as it proved easy or arduous to come
up with them, they awoke either a restless endeavour after
an even loftier attainment, or lulled into a self-satis6ed
conceit." Douza was, for Leyden and the Dutch, what
Munchausen afterwards was for Gottingen and the German
universities. " But with this difference : Leyden was the
model on which the younger universities of the republic
were constructed ; Gottingen the model on which the older
universities of the empire were reformed. Both Mun-
chausen and Douza proposed a high ideal for the schools
founded under their auspices ; and both, as first curators,
laboured with paramount influence in realizing this ideal
for the same long period of thirty-two years. Under their
patronage Leyden and Gottingen took the highest place
among the universities of Europe ; and both have only lost
their relative supremacy by the application in other semin-
aries of the same measures which had at first determined
tbeir superiority." The appointment of the professors at
Leyden was vested in three (afterwards five) curators, one
of whom was selected from the body of the nobles, whilo
the other two were appointed by the states of the pro-
vince,— the ofiice being held for nine years, and eventually
for life. With these was associated the mayor of Leyden
for the time being. The university of Franeker was
founded in 1585 on a somewhat less liberal basis than
Leyden, the professors being required to declare their
assent to the rule of faith embodied in the Heidelberg
Catechism and the confession of the "Belgian Church"
Its four faculties were those of theology, jurisprudence,
medicine, and "the three languages and the liberal arts."'
For a period of twelve years (circ. 1610-1622) the reputa-
tion of the university was enhanced by the able teaching
of William Ames ("Amesius"), a Puritan divine and
Diorali.st who had been driven by Bancroft from Cambridge
and from fngland. His fame and ability are said to have
' Slatuta ct Leges, Fiaoeker, 1647, p. 3
attracted to Franeker students from Hungary, Poland, ana
Russia.
With like organization were founded — in 1600 the uni-
versity of Harderwijk, in 1614 that of Groningen, and
in 1634 that of Utrecht. The restoration of the House
of Orange, and establishment of the kingdom of the
Netherlands (23d March 1815), was followed by important
changes in connexion with the whole kingdom. The uni-
versities of Franeker and Harderwijk were suppressed,
while their place was taken by the newly-founded centres
at Ghent (1816) and Li^ge (1816) A uniform constitu-
tion was given both to the Dutch and Belgian universities.
It was also provided that there should be attached to each
a board of curators, consisting of five persons, " distin-
guished by their love of literature and science and by
their rank in society." These curators were to be nomin-
ated by the king, and at least three of them chosen frort
the province in which the university was situated, whil-
the other two were to be chosen from adjacent provinces.
After the redivision of the kingdom in 1831, Ghent an*
Liege were constituted state universities, and each received
a subsidy from the Government (see Belgium). The uni-
versity of Brussels, on the other hand, founded in 1834, is
an independent institution, supported by the liberal party;
while the reconstituted university at Louvain represents
the party of Roman Catholicism, and is almost exclusively a
theological school for the education of the Catholic clergy.
The universities of Belgium are, however, somewhat hetero-
geneous bodies, and present in their organization a singu-
lar combination of French and German institutions. In
Holland, the foundation of the university of Amsterdam
(1877) has more than repaired the loss of Franeker and
Harderwijk, and the progress of this new centre during
the ten years of its existence has been remarkably rapid,
so that it bids fair to rival, if not to outstrip, both Utrechl
and Leyden. The higher education of women has made
some progress in the Netherlands, and in 1882-83 there
were eighteen women studying at Amsterdam, eleven at
Groningen, four at Leyden, and seven at Utrecht.
In Sweden the university cf Lund, founded in 1668 and
modelled on the same plan as its predecessor at Upsala,
has adhered to its antiquated constitution with remarkable
tenacity. At both these universities the mediaeval division
into "nations" is still in force among the students, the
number at Upsala being no less than thirteen. The pro-
fessoriate at both centres is much below the modern
requirements in point of numbers The university cf
Christiania in Norway, founded in 1811, and the Swedish
universities are strongly Lutheran in character ; and all
alike are closely associated with the ecclesiastical institu-
tions of the Scandinavian kingdoms. The same observa-
tion applies to Copenhagen, — where, however, the labours
of Rask and Madvig have done much to sustain the repu-
tation of the university for learning. The university of
Kiel (1665), on the other hand, has come much more under
Teutonic influences, and is now a distinguished centre of
scientific teaching.
In France the fortunes of academic learning were even
less happy than in Germany. The university of Paris was
distracted, throughout the 17th century, by theological
dissensions, — in the first instance owing to the struggle
that ensued after the Jesuits had effected a footing at the
College de Clermont, and subsequently by the strife
occasioned by the teaching of the Jansenists. Its studies,
discipline, and numbers alike suffered. Towards the cloce
of the century a certain revival took place, and a succe»-
sion of illustrious names— Pourchot, RoUin, Grenan,
Coffin, Demontenipuys, Crevier. Lebeau— appear on the
roll of its teachers. But this improvement was soon inter-
rupted by the controversios eacited by the promulgation
Hart'T
wijk
Groma- '\
gen.
UUecbk
Ghent.
Brussels,
Araater*
dum.
Univer-
sities of
Sweden
and
Norway.
Lund.
Upaolft.
CHria.
tiiioia.
Kiel
Univer-
sity of
Paris
17i;-.
cepfjTf.
UNIVERSITIES
851
Univer-
sitics
sup-
pressed
through-
out
FraDce.
Cniver-
eity of
France
created.
Creation
jf new
centres.
*.-reat
j'rericb
.^ools.
Ji-.l'e and
Slras-
barg.
I niver-
i.lies of
Switzer-
l.ind.
Basel.
Brn.
Zurich.
Geneva.
of tue bull Unigenitus in 1713, condemning the tenets of
Quesnel, when KoUin himself, although a man of singu-
laily pacific disposition, deemed it his duty to head the
opposition to Clement XL and the French episcopate. At
last, in 1762, the parlement of Paris issued a decree
[August 6) placing the colleges of the Jesuits at the dis-
posal of the university, and this was immediately followed
ky another for the expulsion of the order from Paris.
Concurrently with this measure the prospects of the uni-
Fersity assumed a more favourable character, the curri-
:ulum of its studies was extended, and both history and
natural science began to be cultivated with a certain
success. These better prospects were, however, soon ob-
scured by the outbreak of the Revolution ; and on the
1 5th September 1793 the universities and colleges
throughout France, together with the faculties of theology,
medicine, jurisprudence, and arts, were abolished by &
decree of the Convention. The College de France, when
restored in 1S31, was reconstituted mainly as a gchool of
adult instruction, for the most part of a popular character,
and entirely dissociated from the university. It now
numbers thirty-nine chairs, among which is one of the
Slavonic languages and literature. The university of
France (which succeeded to that of Paris) is at present
little more than an abstract term, signifying the whole of
the professional body under state control, and comprising
various faculties at different centres — Paris, Montpellier,
Nancy, <tc., together with twenty-seven academical rector-
ates. Each of these rectors presides over a local " conseil
d'enseignement," in conjunction with which he elects the
professors of lycees and the communal schoolmasters,
whose formal appointment is then made by the minister
of public instruction. There are ecclesiastics in some of
the conseils d'enseignement, but the rectors are all laymen
who have graduated in one of the faculties. The great
schools have also in no small measure supplemented the
work of the universities by their advance in the direction
of scientific instruction. Among the number the " ficole
Pratique des Hautes fitudes" in Paris (31st July 1868)
and the " ficole Polytechnique," which traces its origin as
far back as the year 1794, are especially distinguished.
The course of instruction at the former is divided into five
sections — (1) mathematics, (2) physics and chemistry, (3)
natural history and physiology, (4) history and philology,
(5) economic science. At the latter the instruction is
conceived solely with regard to the application of scientific
principles to all branches of the public service, but more
especially the military and mercantile. In 1875 the
NTational Assembly passed an Act which enabled the Roman
Catholic body to establish free universities of their own,
and to confer degrees which should be of the same validity
as those of the state university. At Lille and Angers such
centres have been already organized. The university of
Strasburg, which in the latter part of the last century had
been distinguished by an intellectual activity which became
associated with the names of Goethe, Herder, and others,
was also swept away by the Revolution. It was, however,
restored 1st May 1872, after the city had reverted to Ger-
many, and was remodelled entirely on German principles.
Since then its success has been marked and continuous.
In Switzerland all the higher education is supported
mainly by the German and Protestant cantons. The four
universities of Basel, Bern, Zurich, and Geneva have an
aggregate of some 1400 or 1500 students, and all possess
faculties of philosophy, jurisprudence, theology, and medi-
cine. Basel is, however, the chief centre for theology, as
is Bern for jurisprudence and Zurich for philosophy. At
Geneva the famous academy of the 16th and 17th cen-
turies, long distinguished as a centre of Calvinistic teaching,
is now represented by a university (first formed in 1876),
where the instruction is given (mainly in the French lan-
guage) by a staff of forty-one professors, and where thera
is a rising school of science. Switzerland almost takes the
lead in connexion with female education on the Continent,
and in 18S2-83 there were 52 women at the university of
Geneva, 36 at Bern, and 24 at Zrrich.
In Spain the universities at present existing are those Univet-
of Barcelona, Granada, Madrid (transferred in 1837 from |'''<:5 "f
Alcala), Oviedo, Salamanca, Santiago, Seville, Valencia, l^rtu^
Valladolid, and Zaragoza. They are all, with the exception
perhaps of Madrid, in a lamentably depressed condition, and
mainly under the influence of French ideas and modelled
on French examples. But in Portugal, Coimbra, which
narrowly escaped suppression in the l6th century as a sus-
pected centre of political disaffection, is now a flourishing
school. Its instruction is given gratis ; but, as all members
of the higher courts of judicature and administration in the
realm are required to have graduated at the university, it
is Jt the same time one of the most aristocratic schools in
Europe. There are five faculties, viz., theologj', jurispru-
dence, medicine, mathematics, and philosophy. Of these,
that of law is by far the most flourishing, the number of
students in this faculty nearly equalling the aggregate of all
the rest. There is a valuable library, largely composed of
collections formerly belonging to suppressed convents. As a
school of theology Coimbra is distinctly anti-ultramontane,
and the progressive spirit of the university is shown by
the fact that the rector has been instructed by the govern-
ment to devise a scheme for the admission of women.
In Italy the universities are numerically much in excess of Italy,
of the requirements of the population, there being no less
than sixteen state universities and four free universities.
Very few of these possess theological faculties, and in no
country are theological studies less valued. Education for
the church is almost entirely given at the numerous
"seminaries," where it is of an almost entirely elementary
character. In 1875 a laudable effort was made by Bonghi,
the mini) ter of education, to introduce reforms and t-s
assimilate the universities in their organization and methods
to the German type. His plans were, however, to a grejt
extent reversed by his successor, Coppino.
In Austria the universities, being modelled on the same.of
system as that of Prussia, present no especially noteworthy Austria-
features. Vienna is chiefly distinguished for its school of ,..' " ''
medicine, which enjoyed in the last century a reputation
almost unrivalled in Europe. The other faculties were,
however, suffered to languish, and throughout the first half
of the present century the whole university was in an
extremely depressed state. From this condition it was in
a great measure restored by the exertions of Count Thun.
The number of the matriculated students in 1887 was
4893, and that of the professors 138; among the latter
the names of Zschokke, Maassen, Sickel, Jellinek, and
Biidinger are some of the most widely known. The uni- Olmfitz.
versity of Olmiitz, founded in 15S1, was formerly in pos-
session of what is now the imperial library, and contained
also a valuable collection of Slavonic works which were
carried off by the Swedes and ultimately dispersed. It
was suppressed in 1853, and is now represented only by a
theological faculty. The university of Graz, the capital of Grai.
Styria, was founded in 1586, and is now one of the most
flourishing centres, containing some 1200 students. The Salibur-j;
university of Salzburg, founded in 1623, was su~ppressed ic
1810 ; that of Lemberg, founded in 1784 by the emperor Lcmbers.
Joseph II., was removed in 1805 to Cracow and united to
that university. In 1816 it was opened on an inde-
pendent basis. In the bombardment of the town in 1848
the university buildings were burnt down, and the site was
changed to what was formerly a Jesuit convent The fine
library and natural history museum were at the same tiille
852
U N I -V E E S I T I E S
Cz«r-
oowitz.
Budapest.
, Jiu.ea-
.\gram.
t^reczin-
Rassian
imiver-
sities.
H^lsing.
tors.
Moscow.
Kieff.
Kazan.
Khar-
kolT.
St Peters-
burg,
Atheas.
The
English
iiniver-
sitn-3
siiiLC the
mc'lia'vril
IKrioil.
almost entirely destroyed. The university at the present
time numbers over a thousand students. The most recent
foundation is that of Czernowitz, founded in 1S75, and
numbering about 300 students. The universities of the
Hungarian kingdom are three in number : — Budapest,
originally founded at Tyrnau in 1635, now possessing four
faculties — theology, jurisprudence, medicine, and philo-
sophy (number of professors in 1885 180, students 3117);
Kolozsvar (Klausenburg), now the chief Magyar centre,
founded in 1872 and also comprising four faculties, but
where mathematics and natural science supply the place
of theology (number of professors in 1877 64, students
391) ; ZAgrib (.\gram), the Slovack university, in Croatia,
founded in 1869 but not opened until 1874, with three
faculties, viz., jurisprudence, theology, and philosophy.
The chief centre of Protestant education is the college at
Debreczin, founded in 1531, which in past times was not
unfrequently subsidized from England. It now numbers
over 2000 students, and possesses a fine library.
Russia possesses, besides Dorpat (supra, p. 845), seven
other universities. (1) Helsingfors, in Finland, was origin-
ally established by Queen Christina in Abo (1640), and
removed in 1826 to Helsingfors, where the original char-
ter, signed by the celebrated O.xenstierna, is still preserved.
It has four faculties, 38 professors, and 700 students.
(2) Moscow is really the oldest Russian university, having
been founded in 1755; it includes the faculties of history,
physics, jurisprudence, and medicine; the professors are
69 in number, the students about 1660. (3) The uni-
n'ersity of St Vladimir at Kieff, originally founded at Vilna
in 1803, was removed from thence to Kieff in 1833 ; the
students number about 900, and the library contains
107,000 volumes. (4) Kazan (1804) includes the same
faculties as Moscow ; the students are about 450 in num-
ber, and it has a library containing 80,000 volumes. (5)
Kharkoff (1804) numbers 600 students, and its library
55,000 volumes. (6) St Petersburg (1819) includes the
four faculties of history, physics, jurisprudence, and Orien-
tal languages, and numbers 1500 students. (7) Odessa,
.founded in 1865, represents the university of New Russia.
Generally speaking, the "universities of Russia are not
frequented by the aristocratic classes ; they are largely
subsidized by tlie Gsv.ernment and the annual fees payable
by students are less than £7 a head. In 1863 the statutes
of all the universities were remodelled ; and since that
time there has been a tendency to impress upon them a
more national character, as distinguished from mere imita-
tion of those in Germany.
The university of Athens (founded 22d May 1837) is
modelled on the university systems of northern Germany,
on a plan originally devised by Professor Brandis. It
includes four faculties, viz., theology, jurisprudence, medi-
cine, and philosophy. The professors (ordinary and extra-
ordinary) are upwards of 60 in number, the students about
1500. There is also a school of pharmacy, chemistry, and
anatomy, and a library of 130,000 volumes, with 800
manuscripts.
The history of the two English universities during the
16th and following centuries has presented, for the most
part, features which contrast strongly with those of the
Continental seats of learning. Both suffered severely from
confiscation of their lands and revenues during the period
of the Reformation, but otherwise have generally enjoyed
a remarkable immunity from the worst consequences of
civil and political .strife and actual warfare. Both long
remained centres chiefly of theological teaching, but their
i'.itimate connexion at once with the state and with the
Church of England, as " by law established," and the
rnndifir.ations introduced into their constitutions, prevented
tln,ii becoming arenas of fierce polemical contentions .like
of II,
UlCtt,
those which distracted the Protestant universities' of
Germany.
The influence of the Renaissance, and the teachmg of laHnf
Erasmus, who resided for some time at both universities, '
exercised a notable effect alike at Oxford and at
Cambridge. The names of Colet, Grocyn, and Linai;;i
illustrate this influence at the former centre ; those r.f
Bishop Fisher, Sir John Cheke, and Sir Thomas Smi; i
at the latter. The labours of Erasmus at Cambridge, as
tire author of a new Latin version of the New Testament,
with the design of placing in the hands of students a text
free from the errors of the Vulgate, were productive of
important effects, and the university became a centre of The
Reformation doctrine some years before the writings of Keforma
Luther became known in England. The foundation of ^"'^ _
Christ's CoUege (1505) and St John's College (1511), brago.
through the influence of Fisher with the countess of
Richmond, also materially aided the general progress of
learning at Cambridge. The Royal Injunctions of 1535,
embodying the views and designs of Thomas Cromwell,
mark the downfall of the old scholastic methods of study
at both universities ; and the foundation of Trinity
College, Cambridge, in 1546 (partly by an amalgamation
of two older societies), represents the earliest conception
of such an institution in England in complete inde-
pendence of Roman Catholic traditions. Trinity (1554)
and St John's (1555) at Oxford, on the other hand,
founded during the reactionary reign of Mary, serve rather
as examples of a transitional period.
In the reign of Elizabeth Cambridge became the centre rnritaa
of another great movement — that of the earlier Puritanism, '^" °'
St John's and Queens' being the strongholds of the party ^,^,1^,.
led by Cartwright, Walter Travers, and others. Whitaker,
t^e eminent master of St John's, although he sympathized
to some extent with these views, strove to keep their
expression within limits compatible with conf<irmity to
the Church of England. But the movement continued tc
gather strength ; and Emmanuel College, founded in
1584, owed much of its early prosperity to the fact that it
was a known school of Puritan doctrine. Most of the
Puritans objected to the discipline enforced by the uni-
versity and ordinary college statutes — especially the wear-
ing of the cap and the surplice and the conferring of
degrees in divinity. The Anglican party, headed by such Eiiza-
men as ^Vhitgift and Bancroft, resorted in defence to a ^^^}'"'
repressive policy, of which subscription to the ..^.cts of gfi'^ir;
Supremacy and Uniformity, and the Elizabethan statutes
of 1570 (investing the "caput" with larger powers, and
thereby creating a more oligarchical form of government),
were the most notable results. Oxford, although the
Puritans were there headed by Leicester, the chancellor,
devised at the same time a similar scheme, the rigid dis-
cipline of which was further developed in the Laudian of
Caroline statutes of 1636. It was under these respective
codes — the Elizabethan statutes of 1570 and the LaudiaD
statutes of 1636^that the two universities were governed
until the introduction of the new codes of 1858. During,
the Commonwealth the Puritan occupation and adminis-
tration, at either university, were accompanied by little
injury to the colleges, and were far less prejudicial to learn-
ing than the Royalist writers of the Restoration would lead
us to suiipose. William Dell, who was master of Caius
College from 1649 to 1660, advocated the formation of
schools of higher instruction in the large tovras, a proposal
which was then looked upon as one of but faintly masked
hostility to the older centres.
During the 1 7th century Cambridge became the centre The c-
of another movement, a reflex of the influence of the p'ff:',,,^.
Cartesian philosophy, which attracted for a time consider- moveinijii
able attention. Its leaders,, known as the Cambridge
Lai- ■
lil..m;
UNIVERSITIES
853
Plitonists, among whom Henry More, Cudworth, and
V\Tiichcote were especially conspicuous, were men of high
character and great le.arning, although too much under
the influence of an illrestrimed enthusiasm and purely
TheK«w. specuiativ.e doctrines. The spread of the Baconian philo-
toaiM siipby, and the example o( a succession of eminent
'''^^^' scientific thinkers, among whom were Isaac Barrow,
*"^ master of Trinity (1673-77), the two Lucasiao profes
sors, Isaac Newton (prof 1669-1702) and his successor
Wil'iiam Whision (prof 1702-11), and Foger Cotes
'Plumian prof 1707- 16), began to render the exact
sciences more and more an object of study, and the insti-
tution of the trijios examinations in the course of -the hrst
hall of the l^th century established the reputation of
Cambridge as a school of mathematical science. At
Oxford, where no similar development took place, and
where the statutable requirements with respect to study
and exercises were suffered to fall into neglect, the de-
generacy of the whole community as a school of academic
culture IS attested by evidence too emphatic to be gain-
said. The moral tone at both universities was at this time
MeUiod- singularly low , and the rise of Methodism, as associated
ism with the names of the two Wesleys and Whiterield at
Ox.ford and that of Berridge at Cambridge, operated with
greater effect upon the nation at large than on either of
the two centres where it had its origin. With the advance
of the present century, however, a perceptible change took
biiBeon- place. The labours of Simeon at Cambridge, in connexion
ism. with the Evangelical party, and the far more celebrated
Trac- movement known as Tractariamsm, at Oxford, exercised
tariao- considerable influence in developing a more thoughtful
'*"'■ spirit at either university. At both centres, also, the
range of studies was extended ; written examinations took
the place of the often merely formal viva wxe ceremonies;
at (Cambridge classics were raised in 1S24 to the dignity
of a new tripos. The number of the students at both
universities was largely augmented. Further schemes of
improvement were put forward and discussed. And in
1850 It was decided by the Government to appoint com-
missioners to inquire what additional reforms might
Refonr.3 advantageously be introduced. Their recommendations
of 1S58. were not all carried into effect, but the main results were
as follows — " The professoriate w£is considerably increased,
reorganized, and re-endowed, by means of conti-ibutions
from colleges. The colleges were emancipated from their
mediaeval statutes, were invested with new constitutions,
and acquired new legislative powers. The fellowships
were almost universally thrown open to merit, and the
^eilect of this was not merely to provide ample rewards for
^the highest academical attainments, but to place the
governing power within colleges in the hands of able men,
likely to promote further improvements. The number and
value of scholarships was largely augmented, and many,
though not all, of the restrictions upon them were
abolished. The great mass of vexatious and obsolete
oaths was swept away, and, though candidates for the
M.A. degree and persons elected to fellowships were still
required to make the old subscriptions and declarations, it
was enacted that no religious test should be imposed at
matriculation or on taking a bachelor's degree."'
Aanuf In 1869 a statute was enacted at Cambridge admitting
won of students as members of the university without making it
lesiRte' iniperative that they should be entered at any hall or
iuijots. college, but simply be resident either with their parents o?
in duly licensed lodgings.
Ai...litioD The entire abolition of tests followed next. After
oi I. its. several rejections in parliament it was eventually carried
as a Government measure, and passed the House of Lords
in 1871.
' Brodrick, Vnixxrsity of Oxford, pp. 136, 137
In 1877 the reports of two new commissions were r«f r^s
followed by further changes, the chief features of which "-'It/?,
were the diversion of a certain proportion of the revenues
of the colleges to the usef of the university, especially with
a view to the encouragement of studies in natural science,
the enforcement ol general and uniform regulations with
respect to the salaries, selection, and duties of professors,
lecturers, and examiners ; the abolition (with a few excep-
tions) of all clerii^ai restrictions on headships or fellow-
ships ; and- the hmitation of fellowships to a uniform
amount.
That these successive and fundamental changes have, on t)c'ju.«
the whole, been in umson with the national wishes and in
requirements may fairly be inferred from the remarkable "''^ ■''^"-
increase in numbers during the last quarter of a century,
and especially at Cambridge, where the number of under-
graduates, which in 1862 was 1526, was in 1887 no less
than 2979. In the academic year 1862-63 the number
of matriculations was 448, and in 1886-87 1009.
Si^rcely less influential, as a means of recovering for Loctt
the two universities a truly national character, has been cran .aa-
the work which both have been carrying on and aiding ."' "^',1
by the institution of local examinations and of university jjt^.jsiru
extension lectures. Of these two schemes, the former was lecvirca.
initiated by both Oxford and Cambridge in the year 1858;
the latter had its origin at Cambridge, having been sug-
gested by the success attending a course of lectures to
women delivered by Mr (cow Professor) James Stuart, in
1867, in Liverpool, Manchester, Sheffield, and Leeds. By
the former the standard of education throughout the
country has been raised, both in public and in private
schools. By the latter, instruction of the character and
method which characterize univei^ily teaching has beer
brought within the reach of students of all classes and ages
throughout the land.
So long ago as the year it)4U an endeavour had been Doi'jim.
made to bring about the foundation of a northern uni-
versity for the benefit of the counties remote from Oxford
and C3.mbridge. Manchester and York both petitioned to
be made the seat of the new centre. Cromwell, however,
rejected both petitions, and decided in favour of Durham.
Here he founded the university of Durham (1657), endow-
ing it with the sequestered revenues of the dean and
chapter of the cathedral, and entitling the society " The
Mentor or Provost, Fellows, and Scholars of the College of
Durham, of the foundation of Oliver, A'c:" This schemi
was cancelled at the Restoration, and not revived llntil thl
present century; but on the 4th July 1832 a bill for the
foundation of a university at Durham received the royal
assent, the dean and chapter being thereby empowered to
appropriate an estate at South Shields for the establish-
ment and maintenance of a university for the advancement
of learning. The foundation was to be directly connected
with the cathedral church, the bishop of the diocess being
appointed visitor, and the dean and chapter governors ;
while the direct control was vested in a warden, a senate, and
a convocation. A college, modelled on the plan of those
at the older universities, and designated Uuiversity Col.
lege, Durham, was founded in 1837, Bishop Hatfield's Hall
in 1846, and Bishop Oosin's Hall (which no longer exists)
in 1851. The university includes all the faculties, aiid
in 1865 there was added to the faculty of arts a school of
physical science, including pure and applied tnathematics,
chemistry, geology, mining, engineering, itc. In 18-71 the
corporation of the university, in conjunction with some of
the leading landed proprietors in the adjacent counties,
gave further extension to this design by the foundation of
a college of physical science at Newcasfle-uponTyne,
designed to teach scientific principles in their application
to engineering, mining, manufactures, and agriculture.
854
UNIVERSITIES
• Students who had passed the required examinations were
made admissible as associates in physical science of the
university. There is also a medical college which stands
in similar relations to Durham, of which university Cod-
rington College, Barbados, and Fourah Bay College, Sierra
Leone, are likewise affiliated colleges.
UniTcr- The university of London had its origin in a moTgtncnt
6*yof initiated in the year 1825 by Thomas Campbell, the poet,
London. Jq conjunction with Henry (afterwards Lord) Brougham,
Mr (afterwards Sir) Isaac Lyon Goldsmid, Joseph Hume,
and some influential Dissenters, most of them connected
with the congregation of Dr Cox of Hackney. The scheme
was originally suggested by the fact that Dissenters were
practically excluded from the older universities ; but the
conception, as it took shape, was distinctly non-theological.
The first council, appointed December 1825, comprised
names representative of nearly all the religious denomin-
ations, including (besides t''Ose above mentioned) Zachary
Macaulay, George Grote, -Tames Mill, William Tooke,
Lord Dudley and Ward, Dr Olinthus Gregory, Lord Lans-
downe. Lord John Russell, and the duke of Norfolk. On
II th February 1826 the deed of settlement was drawn
up ; and in the course of the year seven acres, constituting
the site of University College, were purchased, the found-
ation stone of the new buildings being laid by the duke
of Sussex 30th April 1827. The course of instructioii
was designed to include " languages, mathematics, physics,
the mental and the moral sciences, together with the laws
of England, history, and political economy, and the
various branches of knowledge which are the objects of
medical education." In October 1828 the college was
opened as the university of London. But in the mean-
time a certain section, of the supporters of the movement,
while satisfied as to the essential soundness of the primary
design as a development of national education, entertained
considerable scruples as to the propriety of altogether dis-
sociating such an institution from the national church.
tCiag'i This feeling found expression in the foundation and in-
CoUego. corporation of Iving's College (14th August 1829), opened
8th October 1831, and designed to combine with the original
plan instruction in "the doctrines and duties of Christi-
anity, as the same arc inculcated by the United Church of
Oni- England and Ireland." This new phase of the movement
Tc-rsit? v?as so far successful that in 183G it was deemed expedient
^"'i-*- to dissociate the university of London from University
College as a " teaching body," and to limit its action simply
to the institution of examinations and the conferring of
degrees, — the college itself receiving a new charter, and
being thenceforth designated as University College,
London, while the rival institution was also incorporated
with the university, and was thenceforth known as King's
College, London. In the charter now given to the uni-
versity it was stated that the king " deems it to be the
duty of his royal office to hold forth to all classes and
ilenominations of his faithful subjects, without any dis-
tinction whatsoever, an encouragement for pursuing a
regular and liberal course of education." The charters of
the university of London and of University College, London,
were signed on the same day, 28lh November 1836. In
1869 both the colleges gave their adhesion to the move-
ment for the higher education of women which had been
initiated elsewhere, and in 1880 ladies were for the first
time admitted to degrees.
Vic,.-.-i». The Victoria University took its origin in the institution
known as the Owens College, Manchester, — so called after
a wealthy citizen of that name to whom it owed its founda-
tion. The college was founded 12th March 1851, for the
purpose of affording to students who were unable, on the
ground of expense, to resort to Oxford 'or Cambridge an
education of an equally high class with that given at those
centres. The institution was, from the first, unsectarian
in character. In July 1877 a memorial was presented to
the privy council praying for the grant of a charter to the
college, conferring on it the rank of a university, to be
called the " university of Manchester." The localization
implied in this title having met with opposition from the
Yorkshire College at Leeds, it was resolved that the uui-
^ersity should be called the "Victoria University." Under
this name the foundation received its charter 20th April
1880. " The characteristic features of -the Victoria Uni-
versity, as compared with other British universities, are
these- — (a) it does not, like London, confer its degrees oa
candidates who havo passed certain examinations only,
but it also requires attendance on prescribed courses of
academic study in a college of the university ; (6) the
constitution of the university contemplates its (ultimately)
becoming a federation of colleges; but these colleges wili
not be situated, like those of Oxford and Cambridge, in
one town, but wherever a college of adequate efficiency and
stability shaJi have arisen. University College, Liverpool,
and the Yorkshire College, Leeds, having fulfilled these
requirements, have become affiliated with the university.
The university, like the older bodies in England and Scot-
land, is at once a teaching and an examining body, and
there is an intimate rapport between the teaching and the
examining functions. To give it a general or nationa'
character, the governing body consists partly of persons
nominated by the crown and partly of representatives of
the governing and teaching bodies of the colleges and of
the graduates of the university. External examiners are
appointed, who conduct the examinations in conjunction
with examiners representing the teaching body. The grad-
uates of the university meet its teachers in convocation to
discus? the affairs of the university. Convocation will elect
future chancellors, and a certain number of representatives
on the court" (Thompson, The Owens College, he, p. 548).
Like the Johns Hopkins University in America, the Vic-
toria University has instituted certain fellowships (styled
the Berkeley fellowships) for the encouragement of research.
In Scotland the chief change to be noted in connexion Changes
with the university of St Andrews is the appropriation in '" ""''
1579 of the two colleges of St Salvator and St Leonard to ^f g,'
the faculty of philosophy, and that of St Mary to theology. Andi-vs,
In 1747 an Act of Parliament was obtained for the union GlastMi*,
of the two former colleges into one. Glasgow, in the year ^°^
1577, received a new charter, and its history from that ' '"*"'
date down to the Restoration was one of almost continuous
progress. The restoration of Episcopacy, however, in
volved the alienation of a considerable portion of its
revenues, and the consequent suspension of several of its
chairs. In 18C4 the old university buildings were sold,
and, a Government grant having been obtained, together
with private subscriptions, the present new buildings were
erected from the joint fund. The faculties now recognijed
at Glasgow are those of arts, theology, jurisprudence, and
medicine. At Aberdeen an amalgamation, similar to that
at St Andrews, took place, by virtue of the Universities
Act of 1858, of the two universities of King's College and
Marischal College. In conjunction with Glasgow, this uni-
versity returns a member to parliament. The peculiar Cliaoiiea
constitution of the college at Edinburgh, as defined by its '" univer
charter (the government being vested entirely in the lord j^^^'^"
provost, magistrates, and council, as patronsand guardians), ^^^^^^
involved the senate in frequent collisions with the town
council. The latter, being a strictly representative body,
included elements with which the .senate of the university
sometimes found it difficult to work harmoniously, and its
disposition to dictate was strongly resented by the dis ,
: tinguished metaphysician and professor Sir William
Hamilton. On the other hand, the council sometime
UNIVEESITIE.S
856
exercised a beneBcial dUcretion by appointing professors of
ability whom the senate might have regarded as ineligible
tfn the ground of their religious tenets. The Disruption
of 1843 emancipated the lay professors from subscription
to the Eslablished Church of Scotland, and resulted in
many of the important changes which were subsequently
introduced in the Universities Act of 1858. On the 28th
October 1859 the town council, notwithstanding that their
powers were already terminated, by the provisions of the
Act, availed themselves of a technical right to appoint a
principal, — their choice falling upon Sir David Brewster.
The great landmark in the history of the Scottish as in that
of the English universities is represented by the remodel-
ling of the seteral constitutions of these bodies in the year
1858. The commissioners of 1858-62 left the university
of Edinburgh in the possession of constitutional autonomy,
with its studies and degrees regulated by ordinances. The
students also received the rectorial franchise, but were not,
as at Glasgow and Aberdeen, divided into nations. In
arts the B.A. degree was abolished, the M.A. representing
the only degree in this faculty, as at the other Scottish
aniversities. The course of study was divided into three
departments: — (1) classics; (2) mathematics, including
natural philosophy ; (3) mental science and English liter-
ature. In each departmentj it was required that there
should be an additional examiner besides the professor, so
that the candidates should not be entirely examined by their
own teachers. It was also provided that, instead of one
examination for the degree at the end of a student's course,
examinations in each of the departments might be passed
separately. In the twenty years beginning with 1863,
1400 M.A. -degrees have been confe.-red, as against 250 in
the twenty years preceding. In the faculty of medicine, the
original single degree of doctor of medicine gave place to
three classes — bachelor of medicine (MB), master in sur-
gery (CM.), and doctor of medicine (M.D.). In 1866 it
was further laid down that -theses should no longer be de-
manded from candidates for the lower degrees of M.B. and
CM., and, en the other hand, that the degree of M.D.
should cot be conferred on persons not showing any evidence
of medical study after leaving the university, but that a
thesis should be invariably required. Since the enactment
of these ordinaDces the number of the medical students "has
increased from about 500 to over 1700: In the faculty of
law the title of the degree was to be LL.B., and it was to
be conferred only on those who had already graduated as
M.A. But the minor degree, that of " bachelor of law "
~ (B.L.), might be conferred if the candidate had attended
one course of lectures in the faculty of arts, and passed a
preliminary examination in (1) Latin, (2) Greek, French
or German, and (3) any two of the three subjects — logic,
moral philosophy, and mathematics. The chair of public
law, which had fallen into abeyance in 1832, was recon-
stituted, and the chair of universal civil history was con-
verted into a professorship of history and constitutional
law. The degree of doctor of laws was left, as before, a
purely honorary degree. Chairs of Sanskrit, engineering,
geology, commercial and political economy, education, fine
art, and the Celtic languages have also been founded. By
the Representation of the People (Scotland) Act, 1868, the
universities of Edinburgh and St Andrews were empowered
to return jointly a member to the House of Commons.
ParliB- A parliamentary return for the ten years ending oOth
mentary March 1883 showed that the sums voted annually by
^^^ ^ parliament or chargeable on the consolidated fund to the
^^^jgj.. four universities had amounted during that period to
utiea. £65,821 for Aberdeen, £85,906 for Edinburgh, £66,182
for Glasgo\T, and £38,111 for St Andrews. In addition
to these sums Edinburgh had received £80,000 and Glas-
gow £20,000 in tbo f i-m of '^-iilj] grants in aid.
Trinity College, Dublin, was founded in 1591, under Trinity
the auspices of Sir John Perrot, the Irish viceroy. A College,
royal charter nominated a provost and a minimum number ^l*^'
of ihree fellows and three scholars as & body corporate,
empowered to establish among themselves " whatever laws
of either of the universities of Cambridge or Oxford they
may judge to be apt and suitable ; auJ jspecially that no
other persons should teach or profess the liberal art" in
Ireland without the queen's special licence." The first
five provosts of Trinity College were all Cambridge men,
and under the influence of Archbishop Loftus, the first
provost, and his successors, the foundation received a
strongly Pnritan bias. Prior to the year 1873 the pro-
vostship, fellowships, and foundation scholarships could be
hold only by members of the Church of Ireland ; but all
such restrictions were abolished by Act 36 Vict. c. 21,
whereby the requirement of subscription to any article or
formulary of faith was finally abrogated. As at preaei:t.
constituted, the ordinary government is in the hands of
the provost and senior fellows in conjunction with the
visitors and council, — the supreme authority being the
crown, except so far as limited by Act of Parliament.
The first departure in Ireland from the exclusive system Qaeea's
of education formerly represented by the foundation at UniTar-
Dublin, dates from the creation of the Queen's University, "^^^
incorporated by royal charter 3d September 1850. By
this charter the general legislation of the university,
together with its government and administration, was
vested in the university senate. In 1864 the charter of
1850 was superseded by a supplementary charter, and the
university reconstituted " in order to render more complete
and satisfactory the courses of education to be followed by
students in the colleges "; and finally, m 1880, by virtue of
the Act of Parliament known as the University Education
(Ireland) Act, 1879, the Queen's University gave place to
the Royal University of Ireland, which was practically a Royal
reconstitution of the former foundation, the dissolution of Univer-
the Queen's University Heing decreed so soon as the newly ^'*y "*
constituted body should be in a position to confer degrees ;" ™
at the same time all graduates of the Queen's University
were recognized as graduates of the new university with
corresponding degrees, and all matriculated students of the
former as entitled to the same status in the latter. The
university confers- degrees in arts (B.A., M.A., D.Litt.),
science, engineering, music, medicine, surgery, obstetrics,
and law. The preliminary pass examinations in arts are
held at annually selected centres, — those chosen in 1885
being Dublin, Belfast, Carlow, Cork, Galway, Limerick,
and Londonderry. All honour examinations and all exam-
inations in other faculties are held in Dublin. The Queen's Colleges
Colleges at Belfast, Cork, and Galway were founded in »' Belfast.
December 1845, under an Act of Parliament " to enable 2°^'^ ""^
Her Majesty to endow new colleges for 'he advancement of *'•
learning in Ireland," and were subsequently incorporated
as colleges of the university. Their professors were at the
same time constituted professors in the university, and
conducted the examinations. But in the reconstruction of
1880 the chief share in the conduct of the examinations
and advising the senate with respect to them was vested
in a board of fellows, elected by the senate in equal
numbers from the non-denuminational colleges and thd '
purely -Catholic institutions. The colleges retain, however,
their independence, being in no way subject to the control
of the university senate except in the regulations with
respect to the reouirements for degrees and other aca-
demic distinctions. On the other hand, the obligation
formerly imposed of a preliminary course of study at one
or other of the colleges before admission to degrees was
abolished at the foundation of the Royal University, the
examinations being now open, like those of the universitj'
856
UNIVERSITIES
Colleges
ID
Wales :—
St
Aherystr
vith.
VV ales.
K iTth
CaV-ulta.
Bombay.
Madras.
of London, to all matriculated students on payment of
certain fees.
There is at present no university of Wales, although
the bestowal of a royal charter before long is confidently
anticipated. The oldest college, that of St David's at
Lampeter, possesses the right of conferring degrees. It
was founded in 1 822 for the purpose of educating clergy-
men in the principles of the Established Church of
Eoglaud and Wales, mainly for the supply of the Welsh
dioceses. The number of the professors in 1887 was 8,
•and the number of the students 120. The next college in
order of foundation is Aberystwith. It was founded 9th
October 1872, but possesses no charter, and is mamly
auppurted by the Dissenting bodies. The staff of professors
numbers 13, and the students number 150. The University
Oolle;^e of South Wales and Monmouthshire at Cardiff was
founded in 1883. The number of professors in 1887 was
9, lecturers 4, demonstrators 2 ; number of students 140.
The University College of North Wales at Bangor received
Its charter 4th June 1885, its object being to J' provide
instruction iv all the branches of a liberal education e.wept
theology." Its staff consists of a principal, 8 professors
9r lecturers, and 2 demonstrators; the number of the
students is 127. There is also a hall of residence for
women students. At each of these three last-named
lolleges students proceeding to degrees have to go through
iither a London, Edinburgh, Glasgow, or Dublin course of
itudy, but at Edinburgh, Glasgow, and Dublin a certain
proportion of the term of residence ordinarily required is
remitted in their favour.
In India, the three older universities all date from 1857,— that
of Calcutta having been incorporated January 24, Bombay-July
18 Madras Septeinber 5, in that year. At these three universities
the instruction li mainly in English. " A university in India is a
body for examining candidates for dr^grees, and lor confornng
denrees. It has the power of prescribing test-books, standards of
icstruction, and rules of procedure, but is not an institution for
teaching. Its governance and management arc vested in a body
of fellows, some of whom are ex officio, being the chief European
functionaries of the state. The remainder are appointed by the
Government, being generally chosen as representative men in respect
of eminent learning, scientific attainment, official position, social
status, or personal worth. Being a mixed body of Europeans and
natives, they thus comprise all that is best and wisest in that
division of the empire to which the umversity belongs, and fairly
represent most of the phases of thought and philosophic tendencies
observable in the country. The fellows in their corporate capacity
form the senate. The affairs of the university are conducted by
the syndicate, consisting of a limited number of members elected
from among the fellows. The faculties comprise arts and philosophy,
law, medicine, and civil engineering. A. degree in natural and
physical science has more recently been added " (Sir R. Temple,
India in 1880, p. 146). The Punjab university was incorporated
in 1883,— the Punjab University College, prior to that date, having
conferred titles only and not degrees. The main object' of this
university is the encouragement of the study of the Oriental languages
and literature,. and the rendering accessible .to native students the
results of European scientific teaching through the medium of their
own vernacular. The Oriental faculty is here the oldest, and the
degree of B.O.L. (bachelor of Oriental literature) is given as the
result of its examinations. At the Oriental College the instruction
is given wholly in the native languages. In 1887 the senate at
Cambridge (mainly on the representations of Mr C. P. llbert,
formerly vice-chancellor of the university of Calcutta) adopted
resolutions whereby some forty-nine collegiate institutions already
ifBliatcd to the latter body were affiliated to the university of Cam-
oridge, their students thus becoming entitled to the remission of
Kie year in the ordjpary statutable requirements with respect to
residence at Cambridge. It is at the.se institutions, and tho colleges
of the first or second grade in the other presidencies, that the
iustniclion is given.
Gydney In Australia, the university of Sydney was incorporated by an
Act of the colonial legislature which received the royal assent 9th
December 1851, ai.d on 27th February 1858 a royal cliartcr was
Tranted conferring on graduates of the university tho same rans,
style, and precedenco as are enjoyed by (,Taduates of universitiBS
within the United Kingdom. Sydney is also one of the institutions
associated with the university of Loudon from which ceitificates of
having received a due course of instruction may be received with
r-.tjab
viv.iver-
iitj.
a view to admission to degrees. There are four facalrics, viz., arm.
law, medicine, and science. The design of the university is to
supply the means of a liberal education to all orders and denomina-
tions, without any distinction whatever. An Act for the purpose of
faciliuting the ercctiou of colleges in connexion with different
religious bodies was, however, passed by the l^i^ature during the
session of 1884, and since that time collegto representing the
Episcopalian, Presbyterian, and Roman Catholic Churches have
been founded. In 1835 the total number of students attending
lectures in the university was '206. The university of Melbourne,
in the colony of Victoria, was incorporated and endowed by royal!V..f Ihoume
Act 22d January 1853. This Act was amended 7th June 1881.
Here also no religious tests are imposed on admission to any degree
or election to any office. The council is empowered, after due
examination, to confer degrees in all the faculties (exctpting
divinity) which can be conferred in any university within the
British dominions. It is also authorized to affiliate colleges; and
Trinity College (Church of. England) was accordingly founded in
1870 and Ormond College (Presbyterian) in 1879. The founding of
a university for Queensland is at the present time in contemplation.
The university of Adelaide in South Aiistralia (founded mainly Ai.^laid"
by the exertions and munificence of Sir Walter Watson Hughes)
was incorporated by an Act of the colonial legislature in 1874, in
which year it was further endowed by Sir Thomas Elder. In 1881
letters patent were granted by the English croivn whereby degrees
conferred by the university were constituted of equal validity with
those of any university of the United Kingdom. The faculties in
the university are those of arts, medicine, law, science, and music.
The Jiumber of matriculations since the foundation amounted in
1880 to 284, the number of undergraduates in that year being 90.
The university of New Zealand, founded in 1870, and reconstituted N' ■
in 1874 and 1S75, is empowered by royal charter to grant the Zi-' '
several dcrees of bachelor and master of arts, aud bachelor and
doctor in-law, medicine, and music. Women are admitted to
dc<^ces. To this the Auckland University College, Nelson College,
Cantcrburv College, and the university of Otago sUnd in tho
relation of afhliated institutions. This last-named institution wag-O^i;"-
founded in 1869 by an order of the provincial council, with the
power of conferring degrees in arts, medicine, and law, and received
OS an endowment 100,000 acres of pastoral land. It was opened in
1871 with a staff of three professors, all in the faculty of arts, m
1872 the provincial council further subsidized it by a grant of a
second 100,000 acres of land, and the university w.os now enabled
to make considerable additions to the staff of professors and
lecturers, to establish a lectureship in law, and to lay the founda-.,
tions of a medical school. In 1374 an agreement was made between
the university of Now Zealand and that of Otago, whercT.iy the
functions of the former were restricted to the examination of
candidates for matriculation, for scholarships, and for degrees;
while the latter bound itself to become affiliated to the university
of New Zealand, to hold in abeyance its power of granting degrees,
and to waive the claim which it had advanced to a royal charter.
As the result of this arrangement, the university of Otago becamo
possessed of 10,000 acres of land which liaJ been set ajurt for
university purposes in the former province of Southland. In 1877
a school of mines was established in connexion with the university.
In Canada the M'Gill College and Umversity at Montreal was Montreal,
founded by royal charter in 1821 (amended in 1852) on the founda-
tion of the Honourable James M'Gill, who died at-Montreal 19th
December 1813. A number of colleges and schools throughout
the province stand in the relation of affiliated institutions. The
university is Protestant but undenominational It includes the
faculties of arts, applied sciences, medicine, and law. In 1385 the
total number of students, including women, was 526. The uui-* Toronto.
versify of Toronto was originally esuhlished by royal charter in
1827, under the title of King's College, with certain religious
restrictions, resembling those at that time in force at the English
universities, but in 1834 these restrictions were abolished, and in
1849 the designation of the university was changed into that of
the university of Toronto In 1873 further amendments wore
made in the constitution of the university. The chancellor was
mnde elective for a period of three years by convocation, which
was at the same lime reorganized so as to include all graduates in
law, medicine, and surgery, all masters of arts, and bachelors of
arts of three years standing, all doctors of science, and bachelors
of science of three vcars standing. The powers of the senate were
also extended to all branches of literature, science, and the arts,
to granting certificates of proficiency to women, and to affiliating
colTcges. The work of instruction is performed by Universitj'
College, which is maintained out of the endowment of the provincial
university, and governed by a council composed of tho residentc
and tho professors. Its several chairs include classical literaturtj,
lo''ic and rhetoric, mathematics aud natural philoso[ihy, chemistry
and experimental philosophy, history and English hterature,
mineralogy anil geology, metaphysics and ethics, meteorology anij
natural history, and lectureships on Oriental literature, Geimai;,
and French. Other universities and colleges with power to tOoSsS:
UNIVERSITIES
857
Other
Canadtcm
\iniver»
sities.
Caps of
Uood
Hope.
Cniver-
sltlCS
of the
United
States,
decrees are the Victoria University at Coboiirg (1S36), supported
by the Methodist Cliurch of Canada; Queen's University. Kingston
{iS4l), represeutnig the Presbyterian body; and the tiniveisity oi
Trinity College, Toronto, founded in 1S51 on the suppression of ilic
faculty of divinity in Kiiig'sCollege. Lennoxville is a centre foruui-
Vfersity instruction in conformity with Church of England principles.
In Africa, an Act for the incorporation of the university of the Cape
of Good Hope received the royal asseut 26th June 1873, the council
being empowered to grant degrees in arts, law, and medicine.
In the United States of America university etJucation has
received a great extension, without, however, e.vercising
in Europe that reflex influence discernible in so many otiier
relations. The report of the coiJimissioners of education for
1883-84 gives a list of no less than 370 degreo-giving
universities or colleges ; but of these a large proportion
are sectarian, others represent only a single faculty, and
nearly nine-tenths have been founded within the last thirty-
five years. Although a higher education has unquestion-
ably been thus very widely diffused, the undue multiplica;
tion of centres has, in some provinces, lowered the standard
of attainment and led to a consequent depreciation in the
value of university dfigreos. This tendency it was sought
to counteract in the State of Ohio, some twenty-five years
ago, by an organization of the different colleges. The in-
struction given is, in most cases, almost gratuitous, the
charge to each student being less than 30 dollars a year.
This cheapening of a higher education is not, however,
attended with quite the same results as in Germany (wlicre
lads' with little aptitude for a professional career are thus
attracted to the professions), the rapidly increasing popula-
tion and the wider scope for mechanical or agricultural
pursuits probably exercising a bentricial counteracting
influence. The distinguishing characteristics which belong
to these numerous centres are described by the president
of the Johns Hopkins University, in an address delivered
at Harvard in 1S86, as suggestive of four different classes
of colleges, — (1) those which proceed from the original
historic colleges, (2) those established in the name of the
State, (3) those avowedly ecclesiastical, (4) those founded
by private benefactions. To the first class belong Harvard Hirvnril
College and Yale College with their offshoot,^. Of these f.""'-"-
two, the former was founded in 1638 at Cambridge, Mas-
l b.-^e.
sachusetts, by a former fellow of Emmanuel College at
Cambridge in England, and represented the Puritan tenets
for which the parent society was at. that time noted ; the
latter was founded in 1701 by the combined action of a
few of- the ministers of' the State, a charter being given in
the same year by the colonial legislature. It was for a
long time chiefly supported by the Congregationalists, but
is now unsectarian. The total number of students at
Harvard in 1882 was 988, at Yale G92. The university UnWet-
of Pennsylvania was founded in 1751 by Thomas Penn ^''vf
and Richard Penn, on the lines of a scheme drawn up by P' ""syl-
Benjamin Franklin, and was from the first placed on a basis "'"'^
comprising all denominations. It is distinguished by thf
liberality with which it has opened its courses of instruo
tion to the inhabitants of the city generally; the degret
of Ph.D. is conferred on all comers after due examina.
tion. 'At Haverford and Lafayette Colleges, and also at
the Lehigh university, "advanced degrees" are offered
"only, for higher study, prolonged beyond the collegiate
course," instead of being conferred as a matter of routine
after a certain term of years. The Johns Hopkins Uni- JoBe'
versity, also an unsectarian body, was founded at Baltimore 'l'"'!'^'''
in 1867, and is already a school of established reputation, V"'""
and especially resorted to by those designing to follow the ^' "
profession of teachers. It is also dislinsuished by the
possession of fellowships, to be held only by students in-
tendmg to pursue some especial line of original re.search.
Other steadily growing centres are Columbia College in
Kew York, founded in 1754; the Cornell University°aIso
unsectarian, recently enriched by the acquisition of a con-
siderable endowment ; Brown's tiniversity in Provideuce •
and those of Princeton, Michigan, Virginia, and California.'
At Amherst College, where the number of students in 1882 Amhersu.
was 339, the experiment has recently been made of par- CoUeee.
tially dispensing with examinations during the course of
states and Territories.
Alabam.i
Arkansas
Caitfornia
Colorado
Connecticut
Delaware
■Florida
Georcia
Illinois
Indiana
Iowa
Kansas
Kentucky
Louisiana »
Maine
Mar.yl«nd
Ma.ssachusetts
.Michican
.Minnesota
Mississippi
Mifisoun
Nebraska
New Ilatnpsllirc
New Jeisey
New York
North Carolina
Ohio
Oieiion
Pennsj'lvauia
rthoUe Island
.Soiitli Caiolina
Tennessee
Texas
Vermont
Viiginia
West Virginia
Wisconsin
Dakota
[Jislrict of Columbia
Utah
Washington
Total
No of
Colleges.
1.5
10
8
1.5
in
3
10
3
20
I
4
2J
3
3.1
G
21i
)
Preparatory Dcpaitinent.
N» of
Inscnictors.
1
ll)
No. of
Students.
ICT
Ci.i
Collegiate Department.
No. of
Instructors.
■2.:Kd
l..ilil
3!)3
2n;(
5'iu
1.713
liii;
l.oir."
9
:s:}
yj
I.H.'S
17
47(1
34
1,7 1.'
■-•3
l..'7-l
.'.
71
.I
4'1
:>8
OX
C
32
1
.')'}
9
2.^9
46
21
13.5
26
76
6
65
232
131
188
78
114
66
35
118
1«8
HI
73
No. of
Students.
1.5
33
332
230
9.)3
86
0.5S
58
372
333
821
2.1110
l,n.?2
4'I9
24 1
2 r,.=,7
1.'7
J,l'4l
7.-1S
2.C"1
-.'83
2,I3-.
270
371
I,2S4
l.llll
1112
803
2 in
C31
100
•142
"ill
Income from
Fiodiittive
Funds.
Receipts in
\&^Z from
Tuition Fets.
$24 nm;
;.-.o
lot. .500
4,4J2
f4.0;il
4,980
K'.iOO
98,7-.'4
.5(;,8-.>5
I4,j.i(i
4.^.,.sS.!
228.734
31:4, .'.92
84,825
5l.ur.4
1 200
fl,773
3.;iliU
30.000
71 ion
619,811
20.750
170.713
19.200
341, .174
40,157
I 'I. COO
89 090
1.300
1 ', i-^i)
39.0.-,9
0.400
«2.(:.'7
£S,320
40 2.10
2,007
119,393
500
119.477
23 .'..10
Volumes in
College
Libianes.
V.nlue of
Grounds.
Bnildini;5, and
Appaiatu
} 32,755 I
32.767 I S3,01S,624
i,OOI
l,4:.0
|0J4:3
7i;.5Sti
124,-59
l.,.8t;4
14,000
10.410
344. .'.SO
20,.500
110,308
16. IOC-
137.533
33,7.56
10.530
53,293
C0,3io
6,179
Jl,«29
5.200
19,310
!0,,";S9
0,5'IO
6.300
$2,105,565
10.500
2,820
53.100
9.800
173,Cli0
3,900
10 800
145, t40
80.5;t4
61.581
33,300
4'l.iM
38.078
01,050
74 400
312. 5,M
80,, .05
20,037
10,8t^
94,707
17,087
5.-. 000
G^.OO(t
27 4,334
38,000
169,0.52
10.330
IS3.713
53,522
21.090
60,334
12,243
34,8.55
J2,100
7, COO
54. .-,85
112
14 .0, 0
2,913
2,3.50
3300,000
109,000
1,921,000
340.000
1,409,6.30
30,000
380,000
2,501,000
1,120,090
1,378,000
500.000
920.500
707,000
81,1.500
819,500
2,201. 0'.i7
1.380,984
820,705
480.000
2.791,000
207,000
100,000
810. 000
7,8.59.163
640,500
2.899.-.'34
279,950
4.338,099
1.250,000
320,000
1,57>»,749
342.000
O-t.5,000-
l,r50,iioo
200.000
948.700
35.000
1,200,000
70,000
180,000
J16,339,30I
XXIIL — :o8
858
U N'T — U N T
study, where thj students give evidence of having made
satisfactory progress. Considerable modifications have also
taken place in the courses of study, nearly all the colleges
having now adopted the system of " parallel courses," and
the principle of selection between these. Female education
has received in America an extension which it has attained
in no other country, and one of the colleges (that of Wei-
lesley) numbers several hundred students. Since the war
of ISGl a greatly increased attention has been given
throughout the universities to physical training and
athletic exercises, and excellent gymnasia, constructed on
German models, have been erected.
The accompanying table (p. 857), prepared by the council
of education for the year 1885-84, shows the distribution
of these centres iti the different States, together with their
numbers, revenues, libraries, and the estimated value o(
their endowments.
Avthnrilies.— On the earlier liistoty gnd orpanization of the mediffiTal unjrer*
FUies. the student should consult F. C. von Savigny, Gesch. d. rornifchm Jlecftis
i'H Muielalter, 7 vols.^ is.»ti-51 ; for the university of Paiis, Du Boulay. //isform
fJnivei-sttahs ParisicustR, 6 vols., Paris. 1CC.5. Cieviei-. Jli^t. de I' UtnversUe tie
fat-it, 7 vols., I'oiis, 1761. and C. Joui-dain, Ilist. de VVnivtrsile de Pans au
XVll"' et ait XVI 11'^' Steele, Paris. 1SC2 ; of thi-sc the woik of Uu Doulny (Bu-
Ittus)is one of (rie:it rese;iicli and labour, but wanlinp in crilic.nl judpnicnt. while
that of Crevier is little more than a readable outline diawn fiom the foitncr. The
Tiews of Du Boulay have been ehiillent:ed on many import.mt points by P. H.
Denifle in the fiist volume of his Die Uiinersitdleji dtn Miuelnltevs bis lUOO (188.5),
and more particularly on those relating to the organization of the early universi-
ties. The work of Meiiier.^. Gcsch. d. Entstehnnfj u. Etttwickefitngder hoficn Scftulcn
vnseis Eidr/iFtis, 4 vols. (1802-5). must be reeardcd as almost superseded as a
Ccncia] liistory. and the SHmc may he said of Hiibers ^oik on the English
uiiivcrsdics. Ote eitgfisriten Untrersttaten (Casscl. lbJ9-40), luinslalcrt by F. W.
Newman. 3 vols. (I8t5). .Much useful criticism on botll the Kiij^hsh and the
Conlinental umveisitics will be found in Su W. llamiltuns /Jisnisstwis. Ac. 1?53.
For tiie GciTnan universities, the works of Zarncke. Dtcdettlscfint i'mi-rrMlatrii ini
^/ittc/ij/tcr (Lcipsic. 1807). and PiUilsen. Gesch. d. getehrien Ciiterricfitx anf dnt
dfutsihtn Selitilett mid i'mieisitatett (Lcipsic. ISS.'*). will be fonn*] (he most ir.ii^t-
woriliy. — tile foinier for lhemedia;val. tlie hitler for the modem period. To these
may be added two articles by l'.iulscii in \ol- xir. of Von Sybcls llmtorisetie Zeit-
sclii-itt : — ( 1) ■' Griiiiduuc " and {?)■■ Oi pnnisation u. Lebensordnungcn d- (iemsctieri
Unncrsitalen iin .Miiielaltci' "; Tlioliick, Dns aiadeitiirrlie leUii den 17 Jaliiliini-
dei-Is, 2 vols, (llalle. 18-')3-54); \'on n.iuiner. Gesch. d. Padagoaik. vol. iv. (4tli ed .
J8:2)i Dolcli, Gesch. a. deiilnchrii Siudiiiteiiiliiiiiis (1856); S'lbel, Die dciit^clnit
Uniiii-Slltilcil (2d cd., 1874); and Or J CoHiad. The Geruinit Viiireisities for the
last Fiftp J'cnj*. translafcd by llincliiusi'U. wiih preface by James Uryce, M.P.
(Glasgow. J$S.>). For 0Nf."'id. ttiere are the laborious collpctkitis by Aniliony
Wood, — //(.</orj/ and Antiqiiilies of (lie Uiiieeislty and of the CoHeais and Jlnlls of
Orford. e<\iu;ii with contiiiiialion by Ilcv. J. Gllicli. 5 vi.ls. (17SC-9r,), and AJhetim
and Ffisti Olonienses. ciiixvA byDl'P liliss, * vols. (1813-20); also Ilie piihhintiiui.*
of the Ovfoid Historiciil Socieiy; A Jli>lory 01 the Unii ei sity of Orfoi d feom lliC
Sarlicsl Tillies 10 1S30. by H- C. Ma.vwcU L> to (1S8C): and Slaiules of the UtiiceisUy
of Oxford compiled lii JC30 vnder Anfhoiity of AichOishop Laud. ed. GiifTlth*
(Oxford. 1839). For Ciimbi idgc.thc icscatclies of C. II Cooper, (.neatly surpassuifj
those of Wood in tiioroughness and imparliality, are comprised in liiiee stit'.s:
{\)Aiiiiah of Can.beidge, 4 vols. (1842-62): (2) AllienK Caiitahrigicnsis. h'lOO-HiO!),
2 vols. (1858-Cl); (3) Memorials of CaiiibrtJi/e. 3 vols, (new cd., 16>i4). The Ardii-
tectural History of the Vntversity of Cainhridfie and of the Colleges, by the hue
llobert Willis, edited and eonliiiucd by J. Willis Clark, 4 vols (16SC), is a work of
ndmiiable tlioroiiphness and eompleieness. To these may be added Cambridge
in the Seientfent*t Ceiititru ; Lices of Nicholas Ferrar and .Valtheio Pohiiisan, \iy
Prof. John E fi. Mayor. 2 vols. (1655, 1850) ; and llaker s History of the Colline
of St John the Frangelisl, Ci. ridge, cducd by .Mayor, 2 vi.ls. (18C!i): also J- it.
MuIIincer. History of the Vnirersity of Cambridge from the tarliest Tunes to
Accession of Charles /.. 2 ^ols. (1873-85). For bollninivci.sjnessre Itie Documents
Issued by tiic Oxford and Cambridee Conimi'Sionsof 1S.>8; also the Wood, Ilealiie,
Tanner, and lianhnson .MSS., and the Cottonian, Harleion, Laiisdowne (cspe*
cially Kennett and Strype), Baker, and Cole collectiotis.
Index.
Aberdeen (14'14), 843, 854.
Abo (1610). 852.
Adelaide (1S74). 856.
Agiaiii (I8C:1). 852.
Alcala(nmi, 851.
Ahd.iif (1578). 845.
American uiiiveisitics,857.
Amsterdam (1877). 850.
Angers (1305). 83a.
Athens (IS37). 852.
Arez?o t.circ. 1215). 83C.
Avignon (1.301), 839.
Banibeii; (154,-.). 846.
Basel (145!)), 812, 851.
Berlin (180S), 843.
Bern (1834). 851.
Bologna (12rli cent.), 832.
Bombay (1S57). 856.
Bonn (1818). 843.
Bordeaux (1441). 842.
Bour;,'es (1465). 842.
Breslau (1702). 816.
Brussels (1834), S-'.O.
Budapest (1635), 852.
Caen (1437). 841.
Cahors (1332). 839.
Calcutta (1857). 856.
Cambridge a2th cent.),
038, 862.
Cape of Good Hopofl873),
857.
Chi istiania (1811). 850,
Coimbra(1309), 839.851.
Cologne (1388). 840.
Columbia College, U.S.
(1754), 857.
Copenhagen (1479). 842.
Coinell, U.S. (1865), 857.
Cracow (1364). 840.
Czernowitz (1875), 852.
Debieczin College (1531),
852.
Dorput (1632). 843.
Durham (1832). 853.
Edinburgh (15S2). 846.854.
F.rfuil (1375), 840.
Erlangen (1743). 848.
Fernia(1391). 837.
Flor mee (1320). 837.
Frante (1794). 851.
Franekcr (l.'i85). 860.
Fraokfort - on • the • Oder
(1 06). 843.
ricliuri;(145.^), 842.
FilnTtiiclieii (1367), 840.
Gen va (1876), 851.
Glieit(161C). 8.50.
Ciesjen(1607). 845.
Glasgow (1453). 843,854.
GUttingen (1736), 847.
Craz (158C), 851.
Cieifswald(1456). 842.
Grenoble (1339). 839.
Gionjotcn (1611). 850.
llalle (1691). 847.
llaidcrwijk(ieOO). 850
Harvard College (1638),
857.
Heidelberg (1385). 840.
Ilelmslidl (157.5), 645.
llclsing(nis(16401. 852.
Huesca (13.54). 8.39.
Ingolstadt (14.59). 842.
Inosbilick (1692). 846.
Ireland. Roval University
of (1830l.'6.5.').
Jena (1558). 84.5.
Johns llopkins(1867),857.
Kazan (1804), 862.
Khaikoff (1804). 852.
Kien(lK03). 652.
Kiel (166.5), 850
KlausenbuiE (1872). 85J.
Kolozsvar (1872). 852.
K0niKS'jerE(1544). 844.
Leipsic(1409). 841.
Lcmbeig (1784), 851.
Lcrida (1300). 839
Leyden (1575). 850.
Lidge (1816), 850
London ( 1 826). 654.
Louvain (14261.841.
Lund (1668). 850.
.M'Gill.Canada(1821).E^5C
Madias (1857). 866.
Madrid (1837). 851.
Mainz (I47li). 842.
Maibuig (15271.844.
Melbourne (1853), 856
Modena(12tli cent.). 8;1C.
Monlpcllier (1269). 633.
.Montreal (1821), 856.
Moscow ( 1 755). 852.
Munich (1826). 848.
Nantes (1463), 642.
Naples ( 1225). S36.
New Zealand (1870), S.5(l.
Odessa (1866). 862.
Ofcn(13S9) 840
Ohiiulz (1581). 851.
Orange (1.365), 839.
Orleans (Kith rem). 833.
Otagli(lii69).866.
Oxford (12th cent). 837,
Paiiua (1222), 836.
P.llcncia (1214). 839.
raiis(121liccnt.). 834, 846,
850.
P.ivia (1361). 836.
Pennsylvania (1761), 857.
Perpicnan (1379), 839.
l'eiugia(1308). 837.
l'iacenza(124.'s), 636.
Poitiers (1431), Stl.
Pi.ague(1347), 619, i\t,.
Princeton (1746). 867.
Punjab (1883). 856.
Queen's University, Ire-
land (1850). 655.
Queen's Univei^ity, King,
slon (1841), 8.57.
lieggio (12111 cent.), 830
l.'inlein (1C21). 845.
Pome (1303). 630.
l:oslock(1419). 641.
St Andrews (1411), 8)3,
854.
St David's Collece. Lam-
peter (1822), S56.
StPetersbuic(lS19), 652.
Salamanca (1241), 819.
Salerno (9th cenr). 832,
Salzbuig(li;23). 86L •
Seville (1254), 639.
Siena (1357), 837.
Stiasbuig(1621), 84.5, 85t,
Sydney (1851). 856.
Toronto (1827). 85G» ■
Toulouse (1'233). 638.
Troves (1460). 842.
Treviso (1318), 837.
Tiinitv College, Duthn
II591). 8.55.
Trinity College, Toronto
(1851), 857.
Tubingen (1476), Sl2.
Upsala(1477), 842, 850.
Uttecht (1634). 850.
Valence (1452). 842.
Valladolid (1346), 839.
Veicelh (rirr. 1228), 836.
Viccnza(i204). 636.
Victoria. Manchester
(1860), 854.
Victoria, Canada (1830),
Vieniia(13e4),'840, 85!.
Vilna (1803), 652.
Wales, colleges in, 856.
Wiltcnbeig(1502). 8.(3.
Yale College (1701). 667.
Zifgrdb (1669), 852.
Zurich (1832), 861.
imTERWALDEN is one of the Forest cantons of
Switzerland, ranking as sixth in the Confederation. It
is composed of two valle,ys through which run two streams
both called the Aa, and ■which are called Obwald and
Nidwald from their position with regard to the great
forest of the Kernwald in which they are situated. In
old documents the inhabitants are always described as
"homines intraniontani," whether " vallis superioris"
(Obwald) or " vallis inferioris " (Nidwald). The total
area of Obwald is IS.'J'S square miles, 1.^4'2 of which are
classed as productive (forests 37'C), while of the remainder
3'8 are covered by glaciers and 4'3 by lakesT The area
of Nidwald is ir2'J square miles, 84'1 being productive
i forests 27 '7) ; of the rest the cantonal bit of the Lake of
..ueerne covers 12'8. The highest point in the canton is
the Titlis (10,G27 feet) in Obwald.
The census of 1880 returned the population of Obwald
as 15,356, an increase of 941 on 1870, and that of
Nidwald as 11,992, an increase of 291. In both the
women have a small majority over the men. The native
tongue of practically the whole population is German
(15,254 in Obwald, 11,809 in Nidwald), and they are
nearly all Homan Catholics (ir>,078 in Obwald. 11.901 in
Nidwald). Till 1814 the canton was in the diocese of
Constance ; since that time it has (like Uri) formed legally
part of no diocese, though it is provisionally administered
by the bishop of Chur. The capital of Obwald is Sarnen
(4039 inhabitants). Kerns (2500) being the only other
place which is more than a village ; that of Nidwald is
Stanz (2210). The population is purely agricultural and
pabtoral. In Obwald the forests are remarkable, in
Nidwald the fiery energy of the inhabitants. In educa-
tional matters the standard is not very high, but is being
gradually raised. At the head of the Nidwald valley (but
legally in Obwald) stands the great Benedictine monastery
of Engelberg, founded in 1121. There are no railways,
but one is being made from Lucerne through Obwald over
the Bi'uuig Pass to Meyringen in Bern.
Historictlly Obwald was part of the Aargati, and Nidwnld of
the Zurichgau. In both there were many grc.^t lamlowncrs (.speci-
ally the .abbey of Miiib.ich and the Hapsburgs) and few free incii ;
wliilc tbo fact tliat the H.apsburg3 were counts of tho Aargau and
the Zurichgau further delayed the development of political freedom.
Both took part in the ri=ings of 1245-47, and in 124S Sarnen was
threatened by the pope with excommunication for opposing its
hereditary lord, the count of Hanshurg. The alleged cruelties com-
mitted by the Hapsourgs do not, nowever,' appear in liistury till
U N Y — U P P
Siy^
Jasiinger's Chronidf, H20(sfeTELL). On April 16, 1291, R«tlol]ih
the future emperor bouglit from Murbacli all its estates in Uuicr-
waitlen and thus ruled tins district as tlie cliicf landowner, as count,
and as emperor. On Ist August 1291 Kidwald foimed the "Ever-
lasting League" with Uri and Schwvz (tliis being the first knov.n
case in which its common seal is used), ObwaUl joining a little later
on. Jn 1304 the two valleys were joined together under the s:imc
imperial KiililT, and in 1309 Henry VII. confirmed to them all the
liberties granted by his predecessor — though none are known to
have been granted. However, this placed Unterwaldcn on an eijual
political footing with Uri and Schwyz ; and as such it took }iait in
Morgarteu fight (also driving back an invasion over the Briinig
Pass) and in the renewal of the Everlasting League at Brnnuen
(13151. as well as at Sempach (1386), and in driving back the
Ongler or English freebooters (1375). For physical reasons, it was
diliiciilt for Unterwalden to enhirge its territories. Yet in 1363 it
icquiR-d Alpnach, and in 1373 Heigiswyl. So too Obwald .shared
with Uri in the conquest of"the Val Levcntina (H03). and in the
purch.isc of Dellinzona (1419), as wel^a3 in the loss of both (142C).
It was Nidwald that, with Schwvz and Uri, finally won (1500)
and ruled (till 179S) BcUiuzona, Riviera, and Val Blegno ; while
both shared in conquests of Aargau (1415), Thurg.iu (I4G0), and
Locarno, &c. (1512). and in the temporary occupation of the Val
d'Ossola (1410-14 to 1417-22). In the Bur|undian war Untcr-
ivalden, like the other Forest cantons, long hung back throu;th
jealousy of Bern, but came to the rescue in time of need. In 1481
it was at Stanz that the Confederates nearly broke up the League
for various reasons, and it was only by the interveution then of the
holy hermit Nicholas voa der Flue (of Sachscln in Obwald) that
peace was restored, and the great federal agreement known as the
compact of Stauz concluded. Like the other Forest cantons,
Unterwalden clung to the old faith at the time of the Reformation,
being a member of the "Christlicho Vereinigung" (1529) and of
the Golden League (15S6).
In 1798 Unterwalden resisted the Helvetic republic, but, having
formed part of tho short-lived Tellgau, became a district of the
canton of the Waldstatten. Obwald submitted at an early date,
but N'id^vald, refusing to accept the oath of fidelity to the con*
stitution mainly on religious grounds, rose in desperate revolt
(September 179S), and was only put down by the arrival of 15,000
armed men and by the storming of Stanz. In 1803 its independ-
ence as a canton was restored, but in 1815 Nidwald refused to
accept the new constitution, and federal troops had to be employed
to put down its resistance, the punishment inflicted being the
transfer to Obwald of the jurisdiction over the abbey lands of
Engelberg (since 1421 "protected" by both valleys), which inl798
had fallen to the lot of Nidwald. Since that time the history of
Unte: waldeu has been like that of the other Forest cantons. It
was a member of the " League of Sarnen " (1832), to oppose the re-
forming \vishe9 of other cantons, and of the "Sonderbund"
(1843) ; it was defeated in the war of 1847 ; and it voted against
the acceptance of the federal constitution both in 1843 and
in t874. It forms at present two half cantons, each sending one
representative to tlic federal "assembly of states." In local matters
the two valleys are independent. In each the supreme authority
is tho "landsgemeinde" (meeting on the last Sunday in April),
composed of all male citizens of twenty (Obwald) or eighteen (Nid-
wald) years of age, while the cantonal council, which drafts measures
and sanctions the expenditure of sums below certain fixed small
amounts, is composed in Obwald of 80 membera (including the
executive council) elected by the people for 4 years, and in Nidwald
of 48 (besides the executive council) chosen in the same way for 6
years. The executive council is in both cases elected by the " lands-
gemeinde"; in Obwald it consists of 3 offifials and 4 ordinary mem-
bers, and in Nidwald of 6 officials and 5 ordinary liiembers, — the
official members being chosen every year, the ordinary every 4 or 3
years respectively. The existing constitution of Obwald is that of
1867 ; that of Nidwald is dated 1850. and was amended in 1877-78.
It is very remarkable that in both valleys the old '"common
lands " are still in the hand^ of the old guilds, and " gemciiiden "
consist of natives,' not merely residents, though in Obwald these
contribute to the expenses of the new "political communes" of
residents, while in Nidwald the latter have to raise special taxes.
In Engelberg (which still retains some independence) the poor arc
greatly favoured in the division of the common lands and tiieir
proceeds, and unmarried persons (or widowers and widows) receive
only half the share of those who are married.
See J. Busingcr. />)> Ge^cUichlen des VoHes von i'jilenralden, 2 vols., 1S27-2S.
UNYORO, a kingdom of Cetitral Africa, bounded on
the N. and E. by the Nile, on the AV. by the Albert
Nyanza, and on the S.E. by the kingdom of Uganda.
Its area is about 1600 square milss. The country is very
fertile, well-watered, and thickly wooded ; for the most
part it is hilly in character, especially ou the borders of
♦he. Albert Lake and in the neighbourhood of Massindi and
Kiroto, where the mountains have an altitude of from
SOOO to GOOO feet. Tlie pnpulatioa i.s about l,.'iOO,000.
The Wanyoro are of a darli reddish-brown colour, and
are fully clothed, but are not so fine in physique, nor so
high in intellectual development as their neighbours the
AVaganda, to whom, however, they appear to be very
nearly related. The reigning family in Unyoro belongs to
the Wahuma tribe, and is probably the oldest reigning
Wahuma family in this part of Africa. The country is
governed on the feudal system. Numerous tribes to the
east and north of the Nile, and also on the western side
of the Albert Nyanza, pay a small tribute to the-Wanyoro.
The latter pos.'iess large herds of cattle, and are very good
herdsmen. The land, too, is cultivated to a considerable
extent, — bananas, sweet potatoes, and dhuri^ being grown
in large quantities. Coffee and tobacco are cultivated to
a small extent. The people are very superstitious, and
the numerous medicine men and women reap a rich harvest
from their credulity. The Wanyoro huts are dome shaped,
small, and extremely filthy and full of vermin, although
the people themselves are cleanly. Polygamy is universal,
even the poorest man possessing two or three wives. Not-
withstanding this, the people are fairly moral; but Unyoro
is remarkable amongst Central African tribes for the exists
ence of a definite class of courtesans. The Wanyoro are
moderately skilful workmen, and their iron-work, pottery,
and wood-work are both neat and tasteful. The only
article they export is salt, which is obtained in considerable
quantities at Kibiro on the shores of Lake Albert.
See -Baker's Albert I^'ynnza, Felkin and Wilson's Ujanda ami
(he Efjypiinn Soiuian, and various papers in PcUrmann's Mitthcil-
ungen by Emin Pasha.
UPANISHADS. See Sanskrit, vol. xxi. p. 280, and
BP.AHMAJflSM.
"UPAS, a Javanese word moanmg poison, and specially
applied by the Malays and people of western Java to the
poison derived from the gum of the anchar tree {An<iai-is
loxicaria), one of the Artocarpex, which was commonly
used in Celebes to envenom the bamboo darts of the
native.s. The name of the upas tree has become famous
from the mendacious account (professedly by one Foersch,
who was a surgeon- at Samarang in 1773) published i:i
the London Magazine, December 17? 3, and popularized
by Erasmus Darwin in " Loves of tho Plants ',' {Botnrn'c
Garden, pt. ii.). The tree was said to destroy all ar.im.il
life within a radius of 15 miles or more. The poison wiis'
fetched by condemned malefactors, of whom scarcely tv.o
out of twenty returned. All this is pure fable, and in
good part not even traditional fable, but mere invention.
For a scientific account of the ^ntiaris, see Horsfield's Phxnl.s
Javanicm Rariorcs (1838-52) and Blume's Jiumpkia. (Brussels,
1S36), and for the legend Yule, Anglo-Indian Glossn.nj, p. 726 s^.
UPPER SIND FRONTIER, a district of Briti.-,h India,
forming the northernmost portion of the province of Sind,
in the Bombay presidency. It comprises an area of 213!)
square mile.s, and lies between 27° 56' and 2S° 27' N. lat.
and between 68° and 69° 44' E, long. It is bounded on
the N. and W. by the Derajat districts of the Punjab and
the territory of Khelat, on the S. by Shikarpur district,
and on the E. by the Indus. In the north east the
country is hilly; the remainder consists of a narrow strip
of level plain, one half being covered with jungle and
subject to inundation, from which it is protected b;,
artificial embankments. The land is watered by canals
from the Indus, of which the chief is the BegAri (85 mile.s-
in length), navigable throughout by large boats, and tho
Desert Canal, which irrigates the country west of Kashmor.
The district contains several thriving timber plantations.
The wild animals comprise an occasional tiger and hya?nHs .
wild hogs and jackals abound ; fo.xcs arc occasionally met
860
U P S— U P S
with ; and antelopes, hog-deer, and a spe^-ies of sdmbhar
•deer are found in the dense jungle tracts adjoining the
Indus. The climate is remarkable for its dryness and for
its extraordinary variations of temperature. The average
annual rainfall at Jacobabad is less than 5 inches. There
are numerous roads of all descriptions, and the Frontier
Military Railway from Sukkur via Jacobabad to Sibi
crosses the district.
' The census of 1881 returned the population as 124,181 (males
70,166, females 54,015), — Hindus numbering 9894, Mohammedans
109,183, and Christians 230. The chief town is jacobabad, with
i population of 7365. In 1885-86 the cultivated area was esti-
mated at 361,415 acres, of which 137,149 were cropped, and of
these again 8163 were cropped more than once. The principal
crops are wheat, joar, bajra, rice, barley, mustard-seed, and a little
cotton and gram. Salt, lacquered work, leathern jars, embroidered
flhoes, woollen carpets, and saddle-bags are the princiiial manu-
factures. The internal trade is principally in gram, tiie greater
part of which is sent to the Punjab, and the transit trade from
Central Asia into Sind crosses the district, bringing wool and
woollen goods, fruits, carpets, and horses.
UPSALA, a city of Sweden, the seat or its oldest
university and residence of the archbishop of Sweden, is
situated on the small river Fyris, 42 miles north of Stock-
holm. In spite of its position in a vast and fertile plain,
Upsala was a rathw insignificant little town till the open-
ing of railway communication in 1866. The population,
which in 1840 was only 5100, had at the end of 1885
increased to more than 20,000 (with students, scholars,
and others, 2-3,000). The industries of the place are still
unimportant, but its trade by sea (navigation being open
for six or seven months of the year) and by rail is some-
what livelier. Upsala owes its fame to its university,
which was founded in 1477. In 1624 Gustavus Adolphus
Endowed it with 300 farms, the revenue of which formed
its entire income for more than two hundred years.
Parliament now contributes nearly the half of its whole
revenue (393,300 crowns, or about £21,800, in 1885).
The professors numbered 58 in 1887, with 61 "docents"
and assistant teachers, and there were 1928 students. The
last-n;tined are divided into 13 "nations" (based on the
old ecclesiastical division of the country), almost every one
of which possesses a house of its own, with a hall, reading-
rooms, and library. About £7200 is distributed yearly
in "stipendia" or scholarships. The new university
house, above the cathedral, on the site of the former
archbishop's castle, is in the Renaissance style, and was
built in 1879-87. It has a great hall capable of holding
2000 persons, eleven lecture-rooms, &c. The vestibule,
lighted from above by three large cupolas, and surrounded
by open galleries, is particularly fine. The library building
(called Carolina Rediviva, in remembrance of the Carolina
which formerly existed near the cathedral) was erected in
1819-41. The library, which has a right to a cqjy of
■every book printed in Sweden, at present (1887) contains
250,000 volumes and 11,000 MSS., among which is the
famous Codex Aryenleus of Ulfilas's translation of the
■Gospels. The " Gustavianum," built by order of Gustavus
Adolphus for a university house, is now wholly occupied
iov the zoological institution. The botanical garden (which
formerly belonged to the castle) was presented by Gustavus
III. to the university in 1787, — the former garden (in the
northern part of the city), where Rudbeck and Linnaeus
worked, and where the residence of the latter is still tq
be seen, having been found too small and inconvenient.
The medical faculty possesses a hospital and anatomical,
chemical, and pathologico-physiological institutions ; and
about a mile from the town there is a magnificent lunatia
asylum. The astronomical and meteorological institu-
tions, as well as those of chemistry and physics, have also
special buildings, all of recent date. The Royal Society
of Sciences, establi.shed in 1710 by Eric Benzelius, the
younger, occupies a house of its own, and has a valuable
library. Of the buildings the cathedral, founded in the
latter part of the 13th century and completed in 1435, is
the most remarkable. The material is brick, but tha
proportions are uncommonly noble and harmonious ; the
length is 390 feet, and the height inside 88. It has
sufl'ered considerably from repeated fires, but since 1886
an extensive restoration has been going on. The castle,
on the summit of a long ridge above the town, was
founded in 1548 by Gustavus I., but not fini.shed till a
century later, when it was often used as a royal residence.
It was destroyed by fire in 1702, and for more than forty
years remained a ruin. At present only A small part of it
is habitable, and that part is chiclly used by ■the provincial
government, and as a residence of the governor. Apart
from the cathedral and a few insignificant houses, there
are no remains from the medieval period, the city formerly
having consisted almost entirely of wooden houses.
The name of Upsala originally belonged to a place nearly 2 miles
to the north of the present city, which is still called Old Upsahi.
This Upsala, mentiooed as early as the 9th century, was famous
throughout Scandinavia for its splendid heathen temple, wliieh,
gleaming with gold, made it the centre of Svithiod, then divided into
a great number of kingdoms ; three huge grave mounds or barrows
still commemorate old times. In tlie same place the first cathedral
of the bishops of Upsala was also erected (about 1100). On the
destruction of this building by fire, the inconvenient situation
caused the removal in 1273 of the arcliiejuscopal see to the
present city, then called Ostra Aros,* but witiiiu a comparatively
short time it came to be generally called Upsala. During the
Middle Ages the catheilral and the see of the archbishop made
Upsala a kind of ecclesiastical capital. There the kings were
crowned, after the election h.id taken place at the Mora stones,
10 miles south-east of Upsala.- As early as the 14th century,
however, Stockholm became the proper residence of the king. In
1567 Erik XIV. murdered in the castle five of the most eminent
men of the kingdom, lliree of them belonging to the family of
Sturc. In 1593 was held the great synod which marks the final
victory of Protest-intisni in Sweden ; in the same year the university
w-as restored by Charles IX. In the castle Christina, daughter of
Gustavus Adolphus, resigned her crown to Charles X. in 1654. In
1702 nearly the whole city, with the castle and the cathedral, was
burnt down. Among the teachers of the university who have
carried its name beyond the boundaries of their own country, thq
following (besides Linnaeus) deserve to be mentioned : — Olol
Rudbeck the elder, the author of the Allanhca (1630-1702))
Torbcru Bi-igman (1735-1784), the celebrated chemist; and Erik
Gustaf Geijer (1783-1847), the historian.
^ The Tianie first occui-s in Snorro Sturhison iu connexion with
the events of the year 1018 ; it .signifies "the mouth of the caste'-
END OF VOLDMB TWENTY-THIRD.
APPEXDIX
AMERICAN REVISIOIS^S AND ADDITIONS
i() THE
ENCYCLOPAEDIA BRITANNICA
{XIXTH EDITION.)
A DICTTONARY OF
ARTS, SCIENCES AND GENERAL LITERATURE
BY
W. H. DE PUY, DD., LL.D.,
ASSISTED BY A CORPS OF TRAINED WRITERS.
CHICAGO
R S. PEALE COMPAI^rr
1892
COPYRIGHT, 1891,
Bt R. S. Peale & Co.
1470
T
TAAFFE TALLAHASSEE.
TAAPFE, Count Edwakd Feancis Joseph, in
tbe Austrian peerage, and Viscount Taafle of
Corren, and baron of Ballymote, Sligo, in tlie
Irisli peerage, born in the city of Prague in 1833.
He was brought up in eompauiouship with the
present Emperor Francis Joseph. The count is
a descendant of that powerful nobleman of tlje
same name "ho proceeded from Ireland and
made a great name in tbe Germanic Empire.
He was appointed governor of Salzburg iu 1863.
In 1867 he became Austrian minister of the in-
terior and vice-president of the Cisleithan min-
istry. At the hitter end of 1869 he served as
minister president. In 1871 he accepted the
office of governor of the Tyrol and Vorarlberg.
In 1880 he was summoned to form a new cabinet,
over which he still presides. The distinguishing
feature of Count Taafle's clerical and federalistic
administration has been to give greater weight to
the Slav nationalities, especially the Czechs and
the Poles, as well as to the clericals, in the public
affairs of the empire, and to conciliate the diverg-
ent nationalities comprising the kingdom.
TABBY, or TABisriNG, another mime for water-
ing fabrics. It is usually applied to stuff's or
worsted cloths instead of silks.
TABERNACLES, Feast of (Vulg. Ferim Tah-
ernaculorum), a Hebrew feast of seven days' du-
ration, beginning on the 1.5th day of the 7th
month (Tishri), and instituted iiriucipally in
memory of the nomad life of the people in the
desert, and the booths or tents used on their
march. Besides this signilication it also had an
agricultural one, like the other two pilgrimage
festivals, the Passah and the Feast of Weeks. It
was emphatically the Feast of " Ingathering,"
that is, the close of the labors of the field — the
harvest of all the fruits, of the corn, the wine, and
the oil. During this feast, the great bulk of the
people were enjoined to dwell in booths, which
were made of olive, pine, myrtle, palm and other
branches, and weie erected on the roofs of houses,
and in the courts and streets.
TABLEAUX VIVANTS (living pictures), rep-
resentations of works of painting and sculpture,
or of scenes from history or fiction, by living per-
sons. They are said to have been invented by
Madam de Genlis when she had charge of the
education of the children of the duke of Orleans.
They have long been common in theaters, and
have more recently become an amusement of
private circles.
TACAUODT, the native name of the small gall
formed on the Indian Vdmar\sk (Tamnrix ffallica,
var. Imlicu). Since the discovery of photography,
this gall hjis bccouK! of cousiderabh^ injportauce as
a source of gallic, acid, of which it contains a large
proportion. The French chemists import con-
siderable (juantitics; and the same gall, under the
name of mahn\ is imported by the British chemists
from Indiii,
TACITUIiNITY, in th(! law of Scotland, a mode
of extinguishing an obligation by mere silence, and
making no claim upon it for a long time- It is a
distinct ground, and embraces a shorter period
than the ordinary prescription or limitation ; for if
a creditor never apply for payment or performance
of the obligation, a presumption arises either that
there never was such an obligation, or that he has
abandoned it.
TACKING OF MORTGAGES, in the law of
England, a practice that sometimes occurs in the
course of mortgage securities, when one person
acquires more than one mortgage over the same
estate. Thus, though mortgages, according t*
the general rule, rank according to the order of
date, yet, if a third mortgagee, who became .so
without notice of a second incumbrance, purchase
the same mortgage even after notice of the second
mortgage, so as to acquire a legal title, and if he
holds them both in his own right, he can tack the
one to the other, and so obtain priority for the
third mortgage over the second mortgage. This
is on account of an old technicality, scarcely intel-
ligible to any but lawyers.
TACONIC SYSTEM, an extensive serlesof rocks
in the United States, described by Dr. Emmons.
They consist of two divisions, the upper having a
thickness of 25,000 feet, and containing lower
Silurian fossils; and the lower, with 5,000 feet of
thickness, in which, as yet, no fossils have been
found, but which is generally considered to be the
equivalent of the Cambrian rocks of Britain.
TAILZIE, the ancient term in the law of Scot-
land to denote a deed creating an entailed estate.
TAJ MAHAL, a costly tomb built in Cawniioor,
India, by the Emperor Shah Jehan, as a burial
place for his favorite wife. It is said to have taken
20,000 workmen seventeen years to complete the
structure, and its cost was estimated at $15,000,-
000. A tourist who saw it in 1891, wrote: "To
describe the 'Taj' is an impossibility. You are
dazzled, surprised, bewildered and inspired to think
that such work could ever have been done by
human hands. It is like a glimpse of paradise,
something never to be forgotten, and, as you leave
this tomb of tombs and this palace of palaces, and
go out once more into the bright sunshine, it .seems
that you have witnessed some beautiful vision, or
taken a trip to the .so-called 'fairy land.'"
TALBOT, perhaps originally a name equivalent
to bloodhound, but afterward applied to a race of
hounds, now extinct, or nearly so, which seem to
have been kept for show rather than for use The
Talbot was of a pure white color, with large head,
very broad muzzle, long pendulous ears, and rmigb
hair on the belly. The white St. Hubert dog was
either the Talbot or a nearly allied breed. The
Talbot is the badge of the ancient House of Shrews-
bury (surname Talbot), and the crest of .some of
the princely houses of Germany.
TALLADEGA, a prosperous town of Alabama,
the seat of the Institution for the Deaf, Dumb and
Blind.
TALLAHASSEE, a city, the capital of Florida,
and the county-seat of Leon county, ])leasantly sit-
uated on the Jacksonville, Peusacola and Mobile
Railroad, in northern Florida. The city is regu-
T A L L 0 W J' R E E — T A N E V
1471
larly laid out, and is tlie center of a pousideiable
local trade. It has several excellent private
schools. Population in 1890, 2,933.
TALLOW TREE, the name given in difl'ereut
parts of the world to trees of difi'erent kinds which
produce a thick oil or vegetable tallow, or a some-
what resinous substance, which, like tallow, is cap-
able of being used for making candles. The Tal-
low Tree of Malabar (Vateria ludicii) is a very
large tree of the natural order Dipterocarpacea.
It has leathery leaves four to ten feet long, and
l)anicles of white, fragrant flowers, with five petals.
T!ic stem is often sixteen feet in circumference. By
incisions in the stem. East Indian copal isobtained;
and by boiling its seeds, there is extracted a firm,
white, vegetable tallow, which, as it has no un-
pleasant smell, is particularly suitable for making
both candles and soap. —The Tallow Tree of China
(SlilUngia sebifera) belongs to the natural order
Eti/phorbiaceo'. The candles made of it are beauti-
fully white. This tree has been introduced into
North America, is cultivated about Charleston and
Savannah, and is almost naturalized in the mari-
time parts of Carolina. It presents a very beauti-
ful and remarkable appearance at the approach of
winter, when the leaves become bright red, and the
pericarps falling off, leave the white seeds sus-
pended by threads.
TALLY, the name given to the notched sticks
which, till a recent period, were used in England
for keeping accounts in Exchequer, answering the
doable purpose of receipts and public records.
They were well seasoned rods of hazel or willow,
inscribed on one side with notches indicating the
sura for which the tally was an acknowledgment,
and on two opposite sides with the same sum in
Roman characters, along with the name of the
payer and the date of the transaction.
TALMAGE. Thomas De Witt, born in New
Jersey in 1832. He entered the legal profession,
but, after a shiut period, prepared for the ministry
at the New Brunswick Theological Seminary. His
first pastorate was at Belleville, N. J.; he after-
ward removed to Philadelphia, where his rising
fame induced the church at Brooklyn to make
strenuous eftbrts to obtain his services as their
minister, and he preached his first sermon there in
March. 1869. The great success which attended
Dr. Talmage's preaching necessitated the enlarge
ment of the Tabernacle in 187L, but it was burned
a Near later. However, a still larger and finer
structure was soon built, but this was also burnt
down in 1889. A new church was built, at a cost
of about ,'f400,000, and dedicated in 1891. Dr.
Talmage visited England in 1889, and afterward
made a tour in Pale.stine and on the Continent.
He is the author of several volumes of .sermons
and other religious work.". From Manfier to
Throne was published after his return from the
Holy Land.
TALUS, a term employed in geology to desig-
nate the sloping heap which accumulates at the
base of a rock or precipice, from fragments broken
ofl' h\ the weather, or materials in any way carried
over it. The term is also applied to the slope of
a wall which diminishes in thickness as it ri.ses.
TAMAQUA, a citv of Pennsylvania. Popula-
tion in 1890, 4,672. See Britannica, Vol. XXIII,
p. 40.
TAMARA SPICE, a favorite mixture of condi-
ments used by the Italians. It consists of pow-
dered cinnamon, cloves, and coriander seeds in
equal parts, and half the same quantity of aniseed
and fennel-seed ])owdered.
TAMARIN (Midas), a genus of South American
monkeys, small and beautiful, with short muzzle,
prominent forehead, long nails, which, except on
the hinder thumbs, are formed like claws, the tail
longer than the body, not prehensile, and covered
with hair so as to resemble the tail of a squirrel.
The Silky Tamakin, or Marakina (31. rosalia),
is the best known of the gei;us. It is of a golden
yellow color, with fine, silky hair, which it is ex-
ceedingly careful to keep free from stain. It is
often brought to Europe, but is very tender, and
seldom lives long. It is a very gentle and playful
creature.
TAMBOUR, a frame originally made round, upon
which muslin or other material is stretched for
embroidering. Tambour-work was extensively
employed for the decoration of large surfaces of
muslin, etc., for curtains and similar purposes; but
pattern-weaving has been brought to resemble it
so closely that it is being rapidly superseded.
TAMBOURINE, a very ancient musical instru-
ment of the drum species, much used by the Bis-
cayan and Italian peasants at their festivities, and
sometimes introduced into orchestral music where
the subject of the piece is connected with a people
who use it, as the Basques, gypsies, or peasants of
the Abruzzi.
TAMMANY SOCIETY, a noted political organ-
ization of the Democratic party in New York.
The society in New York city was organized iu
1789. Early in its history it began to be used as
a political engine, and in time became the most
effective instrument in the hands of the leaders of
the Democratic party of the city and state of New
York. Much reproach was brought upon the
society by the famous '■ Ring, ■' which for some
years ruled in its councils, and which nearly proved
its ruin; but a reorganization was afterward ef-
fected, and the regular meetings of the as.sociation
continue to be held in Tammany Hall. See Polit-
ical Parties in these Revisions and .Additions;
also Britannica, Vol. XVII, p. 463.
TAMPA, a town and an important shipping
port of Florida, on the Gulf coast. It is interested
in the manufacture of lumber.
TAMPICO, or Santa Anxa de TAMArLiPAS,
a seaport of Mexico, in the state of Tamaulipas, on
the I'anuco, five miles from its mouth, in the Gulf
of Mexico. At the mouth of the river is a danger-
ous bar, and the harbor is unsafe. Hides, tallow,
bones and salted meat are exported to Great
Britain and the United States.
TAMPION, the wooden plug placed in the
mouth of a piece of ordnance to preserve it from
dust and damp. In naval gunnery, the tampion is
the wooden bottom for a charge of grape.-^hot.
TAM-TAM, an Indian musical instrument, re-
sembling the tambourine, but larger and more
powerful, and oval instead of round. It has been
occasionally introduced into orchestral bauds.
TAN-BALLS, tan-bark pressed mto balls or
lumps, which harden on drying, and serve for fuel
in many parts of England.
TANEY, Roger Brooke, chief-justice of the
United States, born in Calvert county, il<l., in 1777,
died in Baltimore, Md., in 1861. After studying
1472
T A N K - W 0 K M S ~ T A K G 0 W I T Z
law he was admitted to the bar in 1799, and soon
obtained a large practice. He removed to Balti-
more in 1823. In 1831 President Jackson made
him United States attorney-general, and in De-
cember, 1835, Jackson nominated biiii chief-justice
of the United States. In the Dred Scott decision
(see Britannica, Vol. XXIII, p. 772) Chief-Justice
Taney decided that a negro slave had no standing
in a United States court, and that he had " no
rights which a white man was bound to respect. "
This decision, rendered in March, 1857, roused in
the North a fierce and determined antagonism to
the domination of the slave power. Taney died on
the same day on which the State of Maryland
abolished slavery, Oct. 12, 1864.
TANK-WORMS. The mud in Indian tanks has
been found to abound in FilarUe, some of which
closely resemble the guinea-worm infesting the
human body. Although there is no positive evi-
dence, there is extreme probability that these
tank-worms are the origin of the guinea-worm.
Dr. Carter, who has had much personal observa-
tion of the guinea-worm in India, " argues, and
apparently with good reason. No tank-worm, no
guinea-worm. Persons who bathe in water in
which the former is found may expect to have the
latter." Mr. Bastian, who has written an excel-
lent paper on the anatomy of the guinea-worm,
states that there is an undoubted anatomical rela-
tion between it and the tank- worm. The real
difficulty in the theory is that these tank-worms
are widely diffused, while the guinea-worm is re-
stricted in its localization.
TANTUM ERGO, the hymn uniformly sung in
the Roman Catholic Church, at benediction with
the Holy Sacrament. These are the first words of
the penultimate strophe of the hymn Pauge Lin-
gua. The Tantum Ergo is the most popular of all
the Eucharistic hymns of the Roman Catholic
Church.
TANZIMAT, or Tansimat, the plural of the
Arab word tansim, generally signifying " regula-
tions," but in a special sense denoting the organic
laws established by the Hatti-Sherif of Gulhane, in
accordance with which the administration of the
Turkish empire is carried on. These organic laws,
the first attempt at constitutional government in
Turkey, were published by Sultan Abdul-Medjid
in 1844. But the tauzimat was a dead letter, or
nearly so, except in connection with the army ; so
that on Sept. 7, 1854, the sultan fofind it necessary
to publish a new ordinance, in which the complete
carrying out of the tanzimat in all respects was
commanded; and a commission was appointed to
see that this was done.
TAPPAN, Arthur, a New York merchant and
abolitionist, born at Northampton, Mass., in 1786,
died at New Haven, Conn., in 1865. He was
widely known as a patron of religious and patri-
otic organizations, tract, bible and other societies,
endowed Lane Seminary at Cincinnati, a professor-
ship at Auburn Theological Seminary, and built
Tappan Hall at Oberlin ; assisted in founding the
" Journal of Commerce " and the " Emancipator,"
and was first president of the Anti-Slavery Society.
TAR. For general information on this subject
see Britannica, Vol. XXIII, pp. 57-59. In the
United States nearly all the wood-tar comes from
North Carolina. It is there produced by the
emothered burning of the wood and dead limbs of
the pitch pine. A tar-kiln is commenced by
scooping out of the ground a saucer-shaped
foundation, making a hole in the middle, and
thence running a wooden spout outside the rim of
the foundation. The wood is split into billets
three or lour feet long and about three inches in
diameter. The billets are stacked in the center
hole and piled upward, each upper stick lapping a
little over, thus giving the finished pile the appear-
ance of an inverted cone. Logs of wood and green
twigs arc then piled around, and the whole cov-
ered with earth. The tire is lighted at the top
eaves, and the distilled tar runs out through the
spout. .\ kiln yields 50, 100, or more barrels of
tar, according to its size. Large iron retorts have
been used, but the product is not sufficiently
gi-eater or more cleanly to pay for increased cost.
Coal-tar was for a long time a troublesome
product of gas-works, no useful application of it
being known to any great extent. Later it was
used as a covering to protect iron-work exposed to
the weather; and the pitch obtained by distillation
was found, when mixed with earthy matters, to be
a good substitute for the natural product, as-
phaltum, used for artificial pavement, water-tight
covering for roofs, etc. Finally tar distillers
learned to extract from it crude naphtha, and also
light oily fluids. The pitch, by continued distilla-
tion, was made to yield more oily matters. Crude
naphtha is now purified with it; by taking one-
tenth its bulk with concentrated sulphuric acid,
adding when cold 5 per cent, of peroxide of man-
ganese, and distilling oflf the upper portion a recti-
fied naphtha is obtained, which easily dissolves
India rubber. Mixed with wood-naphtha it pro-
duces a powerful solvent of various resinous sub-
stances useful in making varnishes. Still further
purified, the liquid benzole is obtained, used ex-
tensively as an illuminating agent. The light
essential oils, as well as the heavier ones, possess
antiseptic properties, which render them valuable
for preserving wood from decay. Among the other
products obtained from coal-tar are carbolic acid
and the aniline colors.
TARASCON, a town of France, whose inhab-
itants Alphonse Daudet made the subjects of his
charming extravaganza, Tartarin de Tarascon, a
most amusing satire on the characteristics of the
natives of the south of France, which he followed
up with a second part, Tartarin sur les Alpes, and
a third. Port Tarascon, published in 1890. S—
Britannica, Vol. XXIII, p. 60.
TARAZONA, a town of Spain, in the province
of Zaragoza, fifty-two miles northwest of the city
of that name, on the Queyles, a tributary of the
Ebro. It is the see of a bishop, and contains a
cathedral, a bishop's palace, and a Moorish Alcaear.
Population upward of 6,000, mainly engaged in
agriculture.
TARBAGATAI. a frontier town of Chine^c
Turkestan, 170 miles east of the eastern extremity
of Lake Balkash, at the foot of the mountains of
the same name, in a plain watered by the Imil,
with extensive meadows and pasture-grounds in
the vicinity. The inhabitants consist of 3,000
exiled Chinese, 1,000 of a Chinese garrison, and a
number of Mongolian merchants. The trade with
Russia is important.
TARGOWITZ, or Tabgowicza, in Russia, a
small town in the government of Kiev, on the
TARIFF LEGISLATION IX THE UNITED STATES. 1473
borders of Kherson, the scene (May, 1792) of a
confederation of the five Polish nobles who were
adverse to the constitution of May 3, 1791. They
were incited to this tiaitoious conduct toward
their country by Catharine II., and after their con-
duct had been fully unveiled, they were declared
traitors to their country, and only escaped death
by precipitate flight to Russia, where they were
munificently rewarded for the treason which had
given the czarina a pretext for executing the
second partition of Poland.
TARIFF LEGISLATION IN THE UNITED
STATES. The first tariff act was signed by
President Washington on July 4, 1789. The new
government had j ust been established, and the object
of the law was to put money into the empty treas-
ury of the republic. Alexander Hamilton was the
author of the measure, which was modeled on the
5 per cent, import duty that the Congress of the
Confederation had tried in vain to impose. This
first law imposed specific duties on forty-seven
articles and ad valorem rates of 7J, 10, 12i and 15
per cent, on four commodities or small groups.
The unennmerated goods were compelled to pay
5 per cent.
The second tariff act passed the House by a vote
of 39 to 13, and passed the Senate without a divis-
ion. It was approved by the President on Aug. 10,
1790. This act was longer than its predecessor,
and the scale of duties was higher. Then followed
the act of May 2, 1792, which became operative in
the following July. It raised the duty on unenn-
merated merchandise to 7* per cent, and that on
many articles paying 7i to 10 per cent. Another
tariff bill was passed on June 7, 1794, going into
effect on July 1. It imposed numerous rates in ad-
dition to those already payable, some of them spe-
cific and others 2i and 5 per cent, ad valorem.
Additional tariff measures were enacted on March
3 and July 8, 1797. and on May 13, 1800. These
acts imposed additional rates, and there was a
further increase of 2^ per cent, on March 26, 1804,
on all imports then payint;- ad valorem rates.
The whole industrial situation of the c(iunti-y
was changed suddenly and radically in 1S07-S.
Napoleon's Berlin and Milan decrees were followed
by the English orders in council, and Mr. Jeffer-
son's administration retaliateil for the outrages on
our commerce by the celebrated embargo in De
cember, 1807. This was followed by the non-
intercourse act in 1809, and by the declaration of
war against England in 1812. During the progress
of hostilities all commercial intercourse frith Great
Britain was, of course, suspended, and all import
duties were doubled as a war measure.
This is known as the "Tariff" of 1812." It
passed the House of Representatives by a vote of
76 to 48, and received the sanction of the Senate
by 20 votes in its favor to 9 against it. Amend-
ments to it were adopted on Feb. 25, and again on
July 29, 1813. On Feb. 15, 1816, the additional
duties imposed by the act of 1812 were repealed,
and additional duties of 42 per cent., to take effect
on July 1, were substituted, but the law did not
go into operation. From 1812 to ISKJ the average
rate on all imports was 32.73 per cent., the range
being from 6.84 per cent, in 1815 to 69.03 in 1813.
THE LOVrNDE.S-CAI.HOrX BILL.
The next great tarifl' measure is known as the
Lowndes-Calhoun bill of 1816. The desire to protect
the industries that had sprung up during the period of
restriction and war was very strong in the country,
and they were granted clear concessions in the
measure bearing the name of the great South Car-
olinian. It was approved April 27, 1816, took
effect the following July, and may be said to be the
first of the protective tariff's. It was not wholly
set aside until 1842, under the administration of
Mr. Polk. The ad valorem duties under it ranged
from 7i to 33 per cent. The unennmerated goods
paid 15 per cent., the manufacturers of iron and
other metals generally 15 per cent., the majority
of woolen goods 25 per cent., cotton goods 25 per
cent.. " with clauses establishing 'minimums' " —
that is, in reckoning duties, 25 cents per square
yard was to be deemed the minimum cost of cot-
ton cloth; unbleached and uncolored yarn, 60 cents,
and bleached or colored yarn, 75 cents per pound.
These rates became practically prohibitory on the
cheaper goods. The law was amended April 20
1818, and again on March 3, 1819. It had the
support of New England and the Middle States,
but the South was opposed to it. From 1817 to
1820 the average rate on imports was 26.52 per
cent.; from 1821 to 1824, 35.02 per cent., and from
1821 to 1824, on dutiable goods only, 36.88 percent.
This general increase of duties was due to the
necessity of providing forthe interest on the heavy
debt incurred by the second war with England.
The CLAY Tariff followed in 1824. The vote
in the House was close — 107 to 102; and there was
a majority of only 4 in the Senate — 25 for to 21
against it. New England and the South voted
against the measure, while on the other side were
ranged the West and Middle States. It received
the president's signature on May 22, 1824, and
went into eflect July 1. It remained in force in
almost its entirety until 1842. It raised the duty
on woolen goods from 25 to 30 per cent, for one
year, and then to 33i per cent. There was a
" minimum " of 30 cents per square yard on cot-
ton cloth. Wool over 10 cents a pound was rated
at 20 per cent, until June 1, 1825, then 25 per cent,
for one year, and then 30 per cent. The average
rate on all imports from 1825 to 1828 was 47.17
per cent, and on dutiable goc^ls .50.29 per cent.
THE " TARIFF OF ABOMrNATIONS. "
The '' Tariff of Abominations, " as it is called, was
approved May 19, 1828, and went into operation part
the following July and part in September. In the
House 105 members voted for it and 94 members,
mostly from New England and the South, against
it. In the Senate the vote was 26 to 21. It had
special reference to iron, wool and manufactures
of wool. The duty on wool was 4 cents per pound
i and 40 per cent, for one year ; then 4 cents and 45
, per cent, for a year; then 4 cents and 50 per cent.
i Somewhat lower duties were provided for in an
' act passed on May 24, 1S2S. again in May, 1830,
and still again on July 13, 1832. The average duty
on all goods from 1829 to 1832 was 47.81 per cent.,
and on all dutiable articles 51.55 percent.
The Modifying Tariff of 18,32 was intended " to
correct the inequalities of tluil of 1S2S. " It was
passed by the Whigs, or National Republicans, and
levied high duties on cotton and woolen goods and
other articles to which protection was meant to he
1474
TARIFF LEGISLATION.
applied. The vote in the House was 1.32 to 65 and
in the Senate 32 to 16, the votes in favor of it com-
ing from all sections of the country. The New
England vote in the House was a tie. It was ap-
proved on July 14, and took efl'ect on March 3,
1833. The existing duties were superseded by the
act, some of them reduced and a few raised. In a
-.separate act of the same date, railroad iron was
made free. Under its operation, the average rate
on imports in 1832-33, during the ten months it
was in force, was 28.99 per cent., and dutiable
articles 38.25 per cent.
The Compromise Tariff of 1833 provided for tak-
ing oft" one-third of the duties each year, until a
uniform rate on all of 20 per cent, should be reached.
It passed the House by 119 to 85, and ihe Senate
by 29 to 16. Xew England then joined the Middle
States in voting for high protective duties. It was
approved on March 2. 1833. the day before the
Tarift'of 1832 went into operation, and took effect
on Jan. 1, 1834. The terms of the compromise
were that all duties which in the Tarift' of 1832 ex-
ceeded 20 per cent., should have one-tenth of the
excess over 20 per cent, taken oft on Jan. 1, 1834 ;
one-tenth more on Jan. 1, 1836, again one-tenth
in 1838, and another one-tenth in 1840 : so that by
1840, four-tenths of the excess over 20 per cent,
would be disposed of. Then on Jan. 1 , 1842, one-
half of this remaining excess was to be taken ofl",
and on July 1. 1842, the other half of the remaining
excess was to go. There would, therefore, after
July 1. 1842. have been a uniform rate of 20 per
cent, on all articles. The average duty on all im-
ports from 1834 to 1842 was 19.25 per cent., and on
dutiable articles 34.73 per cent.
THf; TARIFF OF I.SIL'.
The Tarifl' of 1842 was passed by the Whigs as a
party measure, and was avowedly a protective
measure. It took efliect at once, on August ,30,
1842, changed all existing rates, was amended in
March, 1843. and died December 1, 1846. Xew
England and the Middle States gave it strong sup-
port. The South was earnest in oppo.silion and
the West was a tie. The average rate on all im-
ports under it was 26.92 per cent, and on duti-
able articles 33.47 p6r cent.
The Polk-Walker Tarift' of 1846 is one of the
most noteworthy acts in the fiscal history of the
country. In his inaugural address President Polk
said: " In the general proposition that no more
money shall be collected than the necessities of an
economical administration shall require all parties
seem to acquiesce. I have heretofore declared to
my fellow-citizens that in my judgment it is the
duty of the government to extend, as far as it may
be practicable to do so, by its revenue laws and ail
other means within its power, fair and just protec-
tion to all the great interests of the Union, embrac-
ing agriculture, manufactures, the mechanic arts,
commerce jind navigation. I have also declared
my opinion to be in favor of a tariff for revenue;
and that, in adjusting the details of such a tariff,
I have sanctioned such moderate discriminating
duties as would produce the amount of revenue
needed, and at the same time afford reasonable
protection to our home industries."
Tlie following table gives the averages of the
tarift' duties since 1791 :
TARIFF AVERAGES.
PEE CENT.
From 1791 to 1812 19.58
From 1812 to 1817 32.73
From 1817 to 1825 26.52
From 1825 to 1829 47.17
From 1829 to 1832 47.81
From 1832 to 1834 28.99
From 1S34 to 1S43 19.25
From l>-i:t to 1S47 ■. 26.92
From ls4r to LK.3S 23.20
From ia58 to 1862 15.66
From 1862 to 1884 34.16
From 1884 to 1890 45.50
From 1890 to about 60.00
Robert J. Walker, of Mississippi, who was Presi-
dent Polk's Secretary of the Treasury, laid down
these principles as a basis for revenue reform in
his celebrated report of 1845:
" Xo more money .shall be collected than is
needed for economical administration.
" The duty on no article .should exceed the
lowest rate which will yield the largest revenue.
" Below such rate discrimination may be made,
or for imperative reasons an article may be made
free.
" Luxuries should be taxed at the minimum rate
for revenue.
" Duties should be aU ad valorem, and never
specific.
" Duties should be so imposed as to operate as
equally as possible throughout the Union, without
respect to class or section. "
The bill framed on this basis was approved by
Mr. Polk on July 30, 1846. It passed the House
by 114 to 95, the East being in opposition and the
West and South in support. The vote in the
Senate on a third reading was a tie, and Vice-
President Dallas gave the casting vote in the
affirmative. The Senate on the final passage
stood 28 to 27. This act superseded the Whig
tariff', and remained in force until 1861. It swept
away specific and compound duties. It divided
all dutiable merchandise into eight classes, which
introduced greater .simplicity into the whole sys-
tem of customs regulations. The average duty on
all imports was, from 1847 to 1857, 23.20 per cent.,
and on dutiable articles 26.22 per cent.
The tariff of 1857, which was the next in order,
made a still further reduction in duties. It was
approved on March .3, 1867, took effect on July 1,
and remained in force until April 1, 1861. New
England united with the South in giving it 123
votes to 72 in the House, and in the Senate 33 to
12. The average duty on all goods, from 1858 to
1861, was 15.66 per cent., and on dutiable articles
20.12 per cent.
THE MORRILL TARIFF,
The Morrill Tarift'of 1861 dift'ered from aUits pred-
ecessors in that it provided for a general system of
compound and diflerential duties, specific and ad
valorem, and also made a distinction between goods
imported from different partsof the world. Itpassed
the House on May U, 1860, by a vote of 105 to 64,
and the Senate on February 20, 1861, by a vote of
25 to 14. From the first, through all the cum-
brous legislation that has followed in its wake, it
has been avowedly protective. It was frequently
changed during the War of the Rebellion, ostensi-
bly for purposes of revenue. At an early period
inits history the number of rates ran up to over
two thousand. From 1861 to 1869 every year pro-
TAEIFF LEGISLATION
1475
duced some enlargement of the original scheme.
In 1870 there was some modification of rates, gen-
erally iu the lino of reduction. Tea and coflee,
taxed since 1861. were then put on the free list,
and the duties on cotton and woolen goods, wool,
iron, paper, glass and leather were lowered about
10 per cent. The free list was somewhat enlarged,
but the reduction was rescinded iu the act of
March 3, 1875. The duty on quinine was abol-
ished on July 1, 1879. The average duty on all
imports, from 1862 to 1883, was 31.10 per cent.,
and on dutiable articles 42.74 per cent.
THE " COilMIS.SIOX TARIFF."
This was pas.sed by the House on March 3, 1883,
by a vote of 152 to 116, and passed the Senate on
March 2, the vote being 32 to 31. This was the
tariff which was in force until October 0, 1890,
when it was superseded, except as to tobacco ami
tin plate.
THE M'KINLET tariff.
The present tariff, familiarly called " The Mc-
Kinley Tariff" (from the name of the chairman of
the congressional committee having the matter in
charge iu the House of Representatives), passed the
House in October, 1890, by a vote of 152 to 81, and
the Senate by a vote of 33 to 27, and was approved
by President Harrison, 1890.
The following table gives the leading articles of
merchandise and the import duties on them by the
McKinley tariff:
Alcohol. 10 per cent, ad valorem.
Aluminium, immanufactured. I5c. per lb.
Aniline Colors or Dyes, 35 per cent.
Animals for breeding purposes, free.
Bagging for cotton, 1 6-10 and 1 8-lOc. per lb.
Bags, grain, 2c. per lb.
Barley, 30c. per bushel.
Beads, ornamental, 10 per cent.
Beef. Mutton and Pork, 2c. per lb.
Beer, Ale, not iu bottles, 20c, per gallon.
Beer, Porter and Ale, in bottles, 40c. per gallon.
Bindings, cotton, 40 per cent.
Bindings, fiax, 50 per cent.
Bindings, wool, (!0c, per lb, and 60 per cent.
Blankets, value not over 30c. per lb.. 16 l-2e, per lb, and 30
per cent.
Blankets, value 30c, and not over 40c., 22c, per lb. and 35
per cent.
Blankets, value 40c. aud not over 60c.. 33c. per lb. and .35
per cent.
Blankets, value COc. and not over 80c., 38 l-2c, per lb. and
40 per cent.
Blankets, value over 80c. (ler lb.. 38 l-2e, per lb. and 40 per
cent.
Bonnets, silk, 60 per cent.
Bonnets, straw, 30 per cent.
Books, Charts, Maps, 25 per cent.
Books, over 20 years old, or for public libraries, fi-ee.
Bronze, manufactures of, 45 per cent.
Brushes, 40 per cent.
Building Stone, rough, lie per cubic foot.
Building Stone, dressed, 40 per cent.
Butter and substitutes for, 6c. per lb.
Buttons, pearl. 2 l-2c. per line and 25 per cent.
Buttons, sleeve and collar, gilt, 50 per cent.
Buttons, wool, hair, etc., 60c, per lb. and 60 per eeul.
Canvas for sails, 50 per cent.
Caps, cotton. .50 percent.
Caps, fur and leather, 35 per cent.
Carpets, treble ingrain, I'Jc. per sq. yd. and 40 per cent.
Carpets, two-plv. 14c. per sq. yd. and 40 per cent.
Carpets, tapestir Brussels, 28c. per sq. yd. and 40 per cent.
Carpets, Wilton" and Axminster, 60c. per sq. yd. iind 40 per
cent.
Carpets, Brussels, 44c. per sq. yd. and 40 per cent.
Carpets, velvet, 40c. per sq. yd. and 40 per cent.
Cheese, all kinds, fie. per lb.
Cigars and Cigarettes, $4.50 per lb. and 25 per cent.
Clocks, n. o. p., 45 per cent.
per lb. and 60 per
Clothing, ready-made, cotton n. o. p., 50 per cent.
I'lothing, ready-made, linen, 55 per cent.
Clothing, readv-made, silk, 60 per cent.
Clothing, ready-made, woolen, 49 1.2c.
cent.
Coal, anthracite, free.
Coal, bitumiuous, 75c, per ton,
Coll'ee, free.
Confectionery, all sugar, 5c, per lb.
Copper, maniifactures of, 45 per cent.
Cotton Trimmings, 60 per cent.
Cotton Galloons and Gimps, 40 percent.
Cotton Gloves, 50 per cent.
Cotton Handkerchiefs, 50 per cent.
Cotton Hosiery valued at more than 60c, and not more than
.$2 per dozen pairs, 50e, per doz. and 30 per cent.
Cotton Hosiery, $2 to $4 per dozen, 75c. per doz. and 40 per
cent.
Cotton Hosiery, more than $4 per dozen, $1 per doz. and 40
per cent.
Cotton Shirts an<l Drawers, value $:) to $5, $1.25 per doz, and
40 per cent.
Cotton Plushes, Telvet, etc., lOe. per sq, yd. and 20 per
cent.
Cotton Swiss Muslin. 60 per cent.
Cotton Webbing. 40 per cent.
Cotton Curtains, 60 ]ht cent.
Cutlery, Pocket-Knives, etc, valued at not more than 50c.
per doz. , 12c. per doz. and 50 per cent.
Cutlery, 50c. to $2 per doz., 50c. per doz. and 50 per cent.
Cutlery, $1.50 to $3 per doz., $1 per doz, and 50 per cent.
Cutlery, more than $3 per doz., ^2 per doz. and 50 per cent.
Cutlery, Razors, less than $4 per doz., $1 per doz, and 30
per cent.
Cutlery, Razors, more than $4 per doa,, $1,75 per doz. and
30 per cent.
CutleiT. Table-Knives, not more than $1 i>er doz.. 10". per
doz. and 30 per cent.
Cutleiy. Table-Knives, $1 to $2 per doz,, 35c. per doz. and 30
per cent.
Cutlery, Table-Knives, $2 to $3 per doz., 40c. per doz. and
30 per cent.
Cutlery, Table-Knives. $3 to $8 per doz.. $1 per doz. and 30
per cent.
Cutleiy. Table- Knives, more than $8 per doz., $2 per doz.
and 30 per cent.
Diamonds, uncut (free): out and set, 50 per cent.
Diamonds, cut but not set. 10 per cent.
Drugs, crude, free.
Drugs, not crude, 10 per cent.
Earthenware, common, 25 per cent.
Earthenware, China, Porcelain, plain, 55 per cent.
Earthenware, decorated. 60 per cent.
Eggs, 5e. per doz.
Engravings, 25 per cent.
Extrae^ts, Dyewood, Logwood. 7 8i'. pur lb.
Extracts, meat, 3oc. per lb.
Fans, palm leaf, with handles. 30 i)er cent.
Felt, hats. 55 per cent.
Felt, shoes, 49 l-2c. per lb. and 60 pen- cent.
Fertilizers, guanos, manures, free.
Firearms, double-barreled, breech -loading, value not over
$6, $1.50 each and 35 per cent.
Firearms, value $0 to $12, $4 each and 35 per cent.
Firearms, value over $12, $6 each and 35 per cent.
Firearms, single-baiTcled. $1 each aud 35 per cent.
Firearms. Pistols, value over $1.50, $1 each and 35 per cent.
Fish. American lisheries, free.
Fish, smoked, dried, salted, pickled, 3-4c. per lb.
Flannels, value not over 30c. per lb., 16 l-2c, per lb. and 30
per cent.
Flannels, 30c. to 40c.. 22c. per lb. and 35 per cent.
Flannels, value 40c. to aOc. 33c. per lb. and 35 per cent.
Flax, manufactures of, 50 per cent.
Flowers, artificial. 50 per cent.
Fruits, preserved in their own juiic
Fruits, apples, 25c, per bushel.
Fruits, oranges andlemons, n, o, p.
cent.
Fur manufactures. 35 per cent.
FuiTiiture. wood. 35 per cent.
Glassware, plain and cut, 60 per cent.
Glass, lamp chimneys. 60 per cent.
Glass, polished plate, not over 16x24. ."«■.
Glass, silvered, not over 10x24, 6c. per sq! foot!
Glass, Bohemian. 60 per cent.
Glass, disks for optical instruments, 60 per cent.
Gloves, kid, men's plain, $1 doz,, not less than .50 ner cent
l:!i
JO jier cent.
l>er box aud 30 per
per sq. foot.
1476
TARIFF LEGISLATION
Gloves, embroidered, $1 50 doz., not less than 50 per cent. |
Gloves, lined, $2.50 doz . not less than 50 per cent.
Gloves, pique lined $2..'>0 doz., not less than 50 per cent.
Gloves, pique lined and embroidered, $3 doz., not less than
50 per cent.
Gloves, ladies' and children's, plain. $1 75 doz.. not less than
50 per cent.
Gloves, ladies' lined, $2.75 doz., not less than 50 per cent.
Glove.s, lined and embroidered, $3 25 doz., not less than 50
per cent.
Gloves, suedes and schmascben, embroidered, 50c. doz.,
not less than 50 per cent.
Gloves, suedes, lined, $1 doz., not less than 50 per cent.
Gloves, suedes, lined and embroidered. $1.50 doz., not less
than 50 per cent.
Glucose, 3 4c. per lb.
Glue, value not over 7c per lb , 1 l-2c. per lb.
Gold, manufactures of. not jewelry, 45 per cent
Hair of bogs, curled for mattresses, 15 per cent.
Hair manufactures n. o. p , 33c. per lb. and 40 per cent
Hair Braids and ornaments, 60c. per lb. and 60 per cent
Hair, human, unmanufactured, 20 percent.
Hams, 5c. per lb.
Haudlierchicfs, linen, 55 per cent.
Handkerchiefs, silk, 60 per cent.
Hay, $4 per ton.
Hemp Cordage, untarred. 2 l-2c. per lb
Hemp Cordaee, tarred, 3c per lb.
Hides, raw, dried, salted, pickled, free.
Hogs, $1.50 jicr head.
Honey, 20e. per gallon.
Hoops, iron or steel, for baling purposes, 1 3-lOc per lb
Hops, 15c. per lb
Horn, manufactures of, 30 per cent.
Horses, Mules, value under $150, $30 per head
Horses, Mules, value over $150, 30 per cent.
India-rubber, manufactures, 30 per cent.
India-rubber, vulcanized, 35 per cent.
India-rubber, wearing apparel, 50c per lb. and 50 per cent
Instruments, philosophical, metal. 45 per cent
Iron, manufactures of, n o. sp.. 45 per cent.
Iron Screws, 1-2 inch or less in length, 14c. per lb
Iron Tinned Plates, 2 2 10c per lb.
Ivory manufactures, n. o. p., 40 per cent.
Jewelry, 50 per cent.
Jute, burlaps, 1 5-8c. per lb.
Jute, cotton bagging, 1 6 10 and 1 8- 10c. per lb
Jute, other bagging, 2c. per lb
Knit Goods, wearing apparel, value not over 30c lb , :;:ii-
per lb. and 40 per cent.
Knit Goods, wearing apparel, value 30c and not over 40c .
38 1 2c. per lb. and 40 per cent.
Knit Goods, wearing apparel, value 40c. and not over (lOc .
44e. per lb. and 50 per cent.
Knit Goods, wearing apparel, value bOc. and not over SOc ,
44c. per lb. and 50 per ceut
Knit Goods, wearing apparel, value over SOc lb., 44c per
lb. and 50 per cent.
Knit Goods, silk, 60 per cent.
Knives, carving, $1 to $5 per doz. and 30 per cent.
Laces, cotton, 60 per cent.
Laces, linen, 60 per cent.
Lard, 2c. per lb.
Lead, pigs, bars, 2c. per lb.
Lead, type metal. 1 l-2c. per lb.
Leather manufactures n o p., 35 per cent
Lime, 6c. per 100 IBs.
Linen manufactures n. o. p., 50 per cent.
Linen, wearing apparel, 55 per cent.
Linen Thread, 45 per cent.
Linseed Oil, 3--V. per gallon.
Macaroni, 2c per lb.
Malt, 4.5c. per bushel.
Matches, friction, boxed, 10c. per gross
Mats, cocoa and rattan, 8c. per sq. ft.
Matting, jute, Oc. per sq. yd.
Mathematical Instruments, glass, 60 per cent.
Meerschaum Pipes. 70 per cent.
Miea. ground, 3o per cent.
Milk, fresh, 5c. nor gallon.
Milk, condensed, 3c, per lb.
Molasses, free (after April 1, 1891).
Muffs, fur, 35 per cent.
Musical Instruments, metal, 45 per cent.
Music Boxes, 45 per cent.
Nails, cut. Ic. per lb.
Nails, horseshoe, 4c. per lb.
Needles, sewing, free.
Newspapers, Periodicals, free
Oat Meal, le, per lb.
Oil Cloths for floors, value over 25e, per s(| yd . 15c ^ler sq.
yd, and 30 per cent
Oil, olive, 35e, per gallon.
Oil. whale and seal, 8c. per gallon.
Onions, 40c. per bushel.
Opium, liquid preparations, 40 per cent-
Organs, 45 per cent.
Paintings, by American artists, free.
Paintings, by foreign artists, 15 per cent.
Paper manufactures n. o. p., 25 per cent.
Paper Stock, crude, free.
Pepper, cayenne, unground, 2 l-2c. per lb.
Perfumery, alcoholic, $2.50 per gallon and 50 per cent
Personal EfTi'cts (see note).
Phosphorus, 20e. per lb.
Photograph Albums. 35 per cent.
Photograph Slides. 60 per cent
Pianofortes, 45 per cent.
Pickles, 45 per cent
Pins, metallic, 30 per cent.
Pipes of Clay, common (see Meerschaum), 15c. per gross.
Plants n. o. p., 20 per cent.
Poultry, dressed. 5c. per lb.
Potatoes, 25c.. per. bushel.
Pulp, wood, for paper-makers' use, grotmd, $2.50 per ton.
dry weight.
Quicksilver. lOe. per lb.
Quilts, cotton, 45 per cent.
Quinine, Sulphate and Salts, free.
Kailroafl Ties, cedar, 20 per cent.
Robes, bufl'alo, made up. 35 per cent.
Roofing Tiles, plain. 25 per cent.
Rope, bale, of hemp, 50 per cent.
Kope, bale, of cotton, 40 per cent.
Rugs, Oriental. 60c. per sq. yd. and 40 per cent.
iSalmon, dried or smoked, Ic. per lb.
Salmon, pickled .ind .suited. 30 per cent.
Salt, in bulk, Sc. per 100 lbs.
Salt, in bags. 12c per 100 lbs.
Sauces n. o. p., 45 percent.
Sausages, Bologna, free.
Sausages, all others. "25 per cent.
Sealskin Saeques, 35 per cent.
Seeds, (Jardin, 20 per cent.
Sheetings, liiion. 50 per cent.
Shirts, in whole or part linen, 55 per cent.
Shoe laces, cotton, 40 per cent.
Shoe-laces, leather. 35 per cent.
Shoes, leather. 25 per cent.
Shoes, India rubber, 30 per cent.
Silk, raw, free.
Silk, spun in skeins, 35 per cent
Silk, laces, embroideries, handkerchiefs, and all wearing
apparel, 60 per cent.
Skins, uncured. raw. free.
Skins, tanned and dressed. 20 per cent
Slates, porcelain, plain. 60 per cent.
Smokers' articles, except clav pipes, 70 per cent.
Snuft; SOc. per lb.
Soap, castile, 1 l-4e per lb.
Spelter, in blocks. 1 3 4c. per lb
Spirits, except bay rum, $2.50 per proof gallon.
Statuan-, marble, 15 per cent
Steel Ingots, Slabs, etc., value "c. to 10c. per lb , 2 8 lOc
per lb.
Steel Ingots, Slabs, etc., value 10c. to 13c. per lb , 3 1 2c
per lb.
Steel Ingots, Slabs, etc., value 13c lo 16c. per lb . 4 210e
per lb.
Steel Ingots, Slabs, etc., value above 16c. per Ih , 7c
per lb.
Stereoscopic Views, glass, 60 per cent.
Straw manufactures n. o. p., 30 per cent.
Sugars, not above 16 Dutch .standard, free lafter April I,
1891).
Sugars, above 16 Dutch standard. ; 2c. per lb.
Sumac, ground. 4-lOc. per lb.
Tea, free.
Telegraph-poles, cedar, 20 per cent.
Telescopes. 60 per cent.
Thermmueters, 60 per cent.
Thread, cotton, value from 25c. to 40c. per lb , I8c per lb.
Thread. 40c. lo SOc. per lb.. i;3c. per lb.
Thread, SOc. to 00c. per lb.. 28e. per lb.
Thread, flax or linen, value not over 13c per lb , Oc per lb.
Thread, over 13e. per lb . 45 per cent
TARIFF LEGISLATION.
1477
Tin, ore or metnl (aflor Jiilv 1. 18931. 4c. per lb.
Tin Plates (aftor July 1. 1891). 2 2 10c. per lb.
Tobacco, cigar-wrappers, not stemmed. $"i per lb.
Tobacco, if stemmed, $2.75 per lb.
Tobacco, all other leaf, if stemmed. oOe. per lb.
Tobacco, uumamifactured, not stemmed, 35c. per lb.
Tooth-brushes, 40 per cent.
Trees, nursery stock, 20 per cent.
Trimmings, cotton. 60 per cent.
Trimmings, linen. 60 per cent.
Trimmings, lace, 60 per cent.
Trimmings, wool, worsted, etc., 00c. per lb. and 60 per cent.
Towels, linen damask, .")0 per cent.
Umbrellas, silk or alpaca. 55 per cent.
Vegetables, natural n. o. p.. 25 per cent.
Yegetables, prepared or preserved, 45 per cent.
Vefvct-s. silk, $3.50 per lb. and 15 per cent., but not less
than 50 per cent.
Violins. 35 per cent.
Watches, and parts of, 25 per cent.
Water-colors, for artists, 30 per cent.
Wearing Apparel (see note).
Whips, raw hide and leather, 35 per cent
Wheat, 25c. per bushel.
Wicks and Wiekmg. cotton. 40 per cent.
Willow for basketmakers. 30 per cent.
Willow flats and Bonnets, 40 per cent.
Willow manufactures n o. p.. 40 per cent
Wines, champagne, in 1 2 pint bottles or less, $2 per doz.
Wines, champagne. 1-2 pint and not over 1 pint. $4 per doz.
Wines, champagne, 1 pint and not over 1 quart, $S per doz.
Wines, champagne, over 1 quart, $S and $2 50 per gallon.
Wines, still, in casks. 50c. per gallon.
Woods, cabinet, sawed, 15 per cent.
Wool, first and second class, 11 and 12c. per lb.
Wool, third class, n. o. p., 50 per cent.
Wool or Worsted Yams, value not over 30c. per lb., 27 l-2c.
per lb. and 35 per cent.
Wool or Worsted Yams, over 30c. and not over 40c., 33e.
per lb. and 35 per cent.
Wool or Worsted Yarns, over 40c.. 38 l-2c. per lb. and 40 per
cent.
Woolen aud Worsted Clothing, 49 l-2c. per lb. and 60 per
cent.
Woolen manufactures, n. o. p.. value not over 30c. per lb.,
33c. per lb. and 40 per cent.
Woolen manufactures, value 30i". aud not over 40c, 38 l-2c
per lb and 40 per cent.
Woolen manufactures, value 10c. and not over 60c , 44c.
per lb. and 50 per cent.
Woolen manufactures, value 60c. afed not over 80c., 44c.
per lb. and 50 per cent.
Woolen manufactures, value over 80c., 44c. per lb. aud 50
per cent.
Note. — Personal or household effects of persons arriving in
the United States, in use over one year, or of American
citizens dying abroad, free. Duty must be paid on all watches
but one. Articles and tools of trade, when in actual use, free.
RECIPROCITY SECTION OF THE TARIFF LAW.
In the present or McKinley tariflf law, a special
section (numbered section 3 in the tarifl" bill),
was inserted, providing for tlie encouragement of
" reciprocal trade" between the United States and
other countries. The following is the test of the
section relating to reciprocity:
Sec. 3. That with a view to secure reciprocal trade with
countries producing the followinc articles, and for this pur-
pose, on and after the tirst day ot July, 1892, whenever, and
so often as the president shall be satisfied that the govern-
ment of any country producing and exporting sugars, mola:*-
8es, coffee, tea and hides, raw and uncured. or any of such
Wticles. imposes duties or other exactions upon the agricult-
ural or other products of the United States, which in view of
the free introduction of such sugar, molasses, coffee, tea and
hides into the United States he may deem to be reciprocally
tmequal and unreasonable, he shall have the power and it
sbali bo his duty to suspend, by proclamation to that effect,
the provisions (if this act relating to the free introduction of
such siigar, molas.^es. coffee, tea and hides, the production of
Buch coimtry, for such time as he shall deem just, and in such
case aud during such suspension duties shall be levied, col-
lected and paid upon sugar, molasses, coffee, tea and hides,
the product of or exported from such designated country, as
follows, namely:
All sugars not above number thirteen Dutch standard in
color shall pay duty on their polariscopic tests as follows,
namely:
All sugiirs not above number thirteen Dutch standard in
color, all tank bottoms, syrups of cauc juice or of beet juice,
melada, concentrated melada. concrete and concentrated molas-
ses, testing by the pulariseope not above seventy-five degrees,
seven tenths of one cent per pound; and for every additional
degree or fraction of a degree shown by the polariscopic test,
two hundredths of one cent per poundadditional.
All sugars above number thirteen Dutch standard in color
shall be classified by the Dutch standard of color, and pay
duty as follows, namely:
All sugar above number thirteen and not above number
sixteen Dutch standard of color, one aud three-eighths cents
per pound.
All sugar above number sixteen and not above number
twenty Dutch standard of color, one and five-eighths cents per
pound.
All sugars above number twenty Dutch standard of color,
two cents per pound.
Molasses testing above fifty-six degrees, four cents per
gallon.
Sugar drainings and sugar sweepings shall be subject to
duty either as molasses or sugar, as the case may be, accord
ing to polariscopic test.
On coffee, three cents per pound.
On tea, ten cents per pound.
Hides, raw or uneuied, whether dry, salted or pickled.
Angora goat-skins, raw, without the wool, unmanufactured,
asses' skins, raw or unmanufactured, and skins, except sheep-
skins with the wool on, one and one-half cents per pound.
TARIFF OR CUSTOMS RATES IX THE UNITED
KINGDOM.
Informer years the tariff rate list of Great Britain
and Ireland embraced more than a thousand
articles of merchandise. At present the list in-
cludes only nineteen, as follows:
£ s. d.
Beer, mum and spruce, the original specific gravity
not exceeding 1215 deg. , per liarrel of 36 galls 1 6 0
Beer, exceeding 1215 deg., per barrel of 36 galls 1 10 6
Beer and Ale, worts of which were before fermenta-
tion of a specific gravity of 1055 deg., per barrel
of36galls 0 6 6
And so in proportion for any difference in gravity.
Cards (Playing) pcrdoz. packs 0 3 9
Chickory, raw or kiln-dried cwt. 0 13 3
Chickory. roasted or ground lb. 0 0 2
ChickoiT and coffee mixed lb. 0 0 2
Chloral hvdrate lb. 0 1 3
Chloroform lb. 0 3 0
Cocoa '. lb. 0 0 I
Cocoa husks and shells cwt. 0 2 0
Cocoa or Chocolate, ground, prepared or in Kny way
manufactured 16. 0 0 2
Coffee (raw) cwt. 0 14 0
Coffee ( kiln-dried, roasted or ground) lb. 0 0 2
Collodion gall. 14 0
Ether, acetic lb. 0 19
Ether, butyric gall. 0 15 0
Ether, sulphuric gall. 15 0
Ethyl. Iodide of gall. 0 13 0
Fruit (almonds and dates free) diied cwt. 0 7 0
Xaphtha or methylic alcohol (puri.) proof. gall. 0 10 4
Plate (gold) '. every oz. Troy 0 17 0
Plate (silver! Trof 0 1 6
Soap, transparent, in the manufacture of which
spirit has Deen used lb. 0 0 3
Spirits, or strong waters proof gall. 0 10 4
Spirits, Perfumed spirits and Cologne water
liquid gall. 0 16 6
Spirits. Liqueurs, Cordials, or othcrpreparations con-
taining spirit in bottle, if not to be tested for as-
certaining the strength ..liquid gall. 0 14 0
Tea r lb. 0 0 6
Tobacco, unmanufaeturod, containing 10 per cent or
more of moisture lb. 0 3 2
Tobacco, containiug less than 10 per cent lb. 0 3 6
Tobacco, cigars lb. 0 5 0
Tobacco, Cav endish or Xcgrohead lb. 0 4 6
Snuff, not more than 13 Ib.s. (lu 100 lbs. (moist-
ure lb. 0 4 6
Snuff', containing more than 13 lbs lb. 0 3 9
Tobacco, other manufactured lb. 0 4 0
Tobacco, Cavendish or Negrohead, manufactured in
bond from unmanufactured tobacco lb. 0 4 0
1478
T A R N 0 W — TASMANIA,
Varnish (Cont. spirit), same as spirits. £ .«. d.
Wine, not exceeding 30 deg., proof spirit gall. 0 10
Wine, exceeding 30 deg.. but not exceeding 42
deg gall. 0 2 t)
Wine, for each additional degree of strength
beyond 4i deg gall. 0 0 3
Sparkling Wine, imported in bottle gall. 0 2 6
Sparkling Wine, when the market value is proved
not to exceed 15s. per gall gall. 0 10
These duties arc in addition to the duty in respect of alco-
holic strength.
TARXOW, a towu of Austrian Galicia, near the
right bank of the Dunajec, a navigable tributary
of the Vistula, forty-nine miles east of Cracow by
the Vienna and Lemberg Railway. It is the seat
of a Catholic bishop, contains a theological college,
and a beautiful cathedral, in which are numerous
monuments of marble, surmounted by statues, en-
riched with b/issi riJievi, and rising to from sixty
to seventy feet in height. Several industries are
actively carried on, and there is a good general
trade Population (including suburbs), 16,-100.
TARPEIAN ROCK (Lat. Rupes Tarpeia, or
Mons Tarpeius), the name originally applied to
the whole of the Capitoline Hill, but latterly con-
fined to a portion of the southern part of the hill,
the following being the legend commonly related
in connection with it. In the time of Romulus,
Tarpeia (a vestal virgin), the daughter of Sp. Tar-
peius, governor of the Roman citadel on the Cap-
itoline, covetous of the golden ornaments on the
Sabine soldiery, and tempted by their ofl'er to give
her what they wore on their left arms, opened a
gate of the fortress to the Sabine king, Titus Tatius,
who had come to revenge the rape of the Sabine
women. " Keeping their promise to the ear." the
Sabines crushed Tarpeia to death beneath their
shields, and she was buried in the part of the hill
which bears her name. Sub.sequently, it was not
unusual for persons condemned on the charge of
aspiring to restore the monarchy, or of treason to
the state generally, to be hurled from the Tarpeian
Rock— e. g., the famous Manilas, the savior of
the capitol during the invasion of the Gauls.
TARRYTOWX, a town of New York. Popula-
tion in 1890, 3,901. See Britannica, Vol. XII,
p. 331.
TARSNEY, John C, member of Congress, born
in Michigan in 18i5. He attended the common
schools until August, 1862, when he enlisted in the
4th Regiment Michigan Infantry, then serving in
the Fifth Army Corps; joined the regiment in the
field, near Antietam, immediately after the battle
of that name; was slightly wounded at the battle
of Fredericksburg, and was severely wounded and
taken prisoner at the battle of Gettysburg ; re-
mained a prisoner of war at Belle Isle, Anderson-
ville, and Millen until the latter part of November,
1864, when, being exchanged, he rejoined his com-
mand in front of Petersburg, and participated in
the campaign which followed, ending in the sur-
render at Appomatto.x; was mustered out of the
service in June, 186.5, when he entered the High
School at Hudson, .Mich., and remained in that
school until the fall of 1866, when he entered the
Law Department of the University of Michigan,
from which he graduated March, 1869 ; practiced
law at Hud.son, Mich., until 1872, when he removed
t) Kansas City, Mo.; was city attorney of Kansas
City in 1874 and 1875, since which time he has fol-
lowed the profession of law ; was elected to Con-
gress in 1889, ami re-elected in 1891.
TASCHEREAU, Elzeak Alexander, cardi-
nal and archbishop of Quebec, born in 1820, and
educated at the Seminary of Quebec. He was or-
dained priest in 1842, and for twelve years filled
the professorship of philosophy in Quebec Semi-
nary, and studied the canon law in Rome for two
years. He was made rector of Laval University
in 1863. Eleven years later he became archbishop,
and in 1887 was created first Canadian cardinal.
He unsucces.sfully opposed in 1887 the incorpora-
tion of the Jesuit Order in Canada.
TASMANIA, one of the Australian states. ( For
general article see Britamiica, Vol. XXIII, pp. 72-
75.) The accredited reports of 1889 placed the area
at 26,21 5 square miles, or about 16,778,000 acres, of
which 15,571,500 acres are the area of Tasmania
proper, the rest being the area of a number of small
islands which form two main groups, northeast
and northwest. Population in 1889, 151,480, an
increase for the year of 3.75 per cent. The popu-
lation of Hobart. the capital, in 1881 was 21,118,
and of Launceston 12,752. At this writing the new
census (of 1891) had not been reported.
CossTiTPTiox. The parliament of Tasmania,
under the acts of 1871 and 1885, consists of a
Legislative Council and a House of Assembly.
The Council is composed of eighteen members,
elected by all natural born or naturalized subjects
of the Crown who possess either a freehold worth
£20 a year, or a leasehold of £80, or are barristers
or solicitors on roll of Supreme Court, medical
practitioners duly qualified, and all subjects hold-
ing a commission or possessing a degree. Each
member is elected for six years. The House of
Assembly consists of thirty-six members, elected
by all whose names appear on valuation rolls as
owners or occupiers of property, or who are in re-
ceipt of income of £60 per annum (of which £30
must have been received during last six months
before claim to vote is sent in), and who have con-
tinuously resided in Tasmania for over twelve
months. The Assembly is elected for five years.
The number of electors for the Legislative Coun-
cil in 1889 was 6,420, or 4.31 of the total popula-
tion, and for the House of Assembly 26,054, or
17.50 of the total population. The legislative
authority vests in both Houses, while the executive
is vested in a governor appointed by the Crown.
The governor is, by virtue of his office, commander-
in-chief of the troops in the colony ; he has a salary
of £5,000 per annum. He is aided in the exercise
of the executive by a cabinet of responsible min-
isters, consisting of four members, as follows i
Premier and Chief Secretary, Hon. Philip Oakley
Fysh; Treasurer, Hon. Bolton Staflbrd Bird; At-
torney-General, Hon. Andrew Inglis Clark; Min-
ister of Lands and Works, Hon. Alfred Pilliugei".
Each of the ministers has a salary of £900 per
annum. The position of premier has a salary of
£200 per annum in addition. Tlie ministers must
have a seat in either of the two Houses. The
pre.sent governor (1891) is Sir G. C. Hamilton, ap-
pointed in 1887.
Edccation. There were, in January, 1891,
sixteen high schools or colleges in Tasmania, with
an average attendance of 1,297 ; 229 public ele-
mentary schools, with 17,948 scholars on roll ; and
88 private schools, with 3,542 scholars. Education
is compulsory. There were also .596 children
attending ragged schools. Two technical schools
TASMAN SEA — TEKELI
1479
were started in 1888 at Hobart and Lannceston.
The higher education is under a uuiversit.v, who
hold examinations and grant degrees, being at
present merely an examining body. Elementary
education is under the control of a director work-
ing under a ministerial head. There are several
valuable scholarships from the lower to the higher
schools.
Reventje, Expenditures, Debt, and Trade.
The revenue in 1891 was estimated at £808,346,
and the expenditures at £793,206. The public
debt on January 31, 1890, was £5,019.050 (raised,
chiefly, for the construction of public works), con-
sisting of 3i and 4 per cent, debentures. There
are large customs duties, those in 1889 amounting
to £309,762, or over 19 per cent, of the imports.
The imports of 1889 were valued at £1,611,035,
the exports £1.459,857. In 1889, 842 vessels (of
458,247 tons) were entered. For Religion and
Railways see those topics in these Revisions and
Additions.
TASMAN SEA, the new name adopted by the
Australasian Association (at their third annual
meeting held in Christcbureh, New Zealand, Jan.
15, 1891) for the sea between Australia and New
Zealand
TASSISUDON, the capital of Bhotan, on the
right bank of the Godadda, an affluent of the
Brahmaputra. Many ot the inhabitants, whose
number has not been ascertained, are employed iu
manufacturing paper, and in making brass images
and ornaments toi their place.? of worship.
TATTA, a town of Sinde, on the right bank of
the Indus, and at the head of the delta of that
river, sLsty-fout miles east of Kurrachi. In former
times Tatta was a most flourishing town, and man-
ufactured fabrics of silk and cotton— a branch of
industry that has almost wholly disappeared. The
only noticeable structure is the mosque of Shah-
Jehan, built of brick, and is now falling into de-
cay; but the vast cemetery of Tatta deserves
mention. It has an area of six .square miles, con-
tains, it is calculated, at least a million tombs, and
has room for not less than four millions. Popula-
tion of Tatta, about 10,000.
TAUCHNITZ, Karl Chkistoph Trau<;ott, a
famous German printer and bookseller, born at
Grosspardau, near Leipzig, in 1761, died iu 1836.
In 1809 he began the issue of a series of editions of
the classic authors, the elegance and cheapness of
which gave them a European circulation. By of-
fering a prize of a ducat for every error pointed
out, he was able to bring out, in 1828, an edition
of Iloraer of extraordinary correctness. He was
the first to introduce (1816) stereotyping into Ger-
many; and he also applied it to music, which had
not been attempted before. In the latter years of
his bu-sy life he stereotyped the Hebrew Bible, and
the Koran in the original Arabic. On his death
the business was continued by his son, Karl
Christian Phil. Tauchnitz.— A nephew of the
elder Tauchnitz, Christian Bernh. Tauchnitz,
also set up a publishing establishment in Eeipzii;,
combined with printing. Among the most noted
of his undertakings is the issue of " Briti.sh Au-
thors" (begun 1842), so well known to all English
travelers on the continent, of which upward of
1,000 volumes had appeared in 1870.
TAUNTON, a city of Massachusetts. Popula-
tion in 1890, 25,448. See Britannica, Vol. XXIII,
p. 83.
TAXICORNES, a family of coleopterous insects,
of the section Heteromera, having the body gen-
erally square; the thorax either concealing or
receiving the head; the antenna .short; and the
legs adapted for running. Most of them are foimd
in fungi and beneath the bark of trees. They are
widely distributed over the world.
TAYLOR, Abner, member of Congress from
Illinois, born in Maine. He has been iu active
business all his life, as contractor, builder, and
merchant; the only office he ever held was that of
member of the State Legislature for one term;
was a delegate to the national Republican conven-
tion in 1884; was elected to Congress iu 1889, and
re-elected iu 1891
TAYLOR, Alfred Alexander, member of
Congress, born in Tennessee iu 1849. He was
educated at Pennington, N. J.; read law, and
wa.? admitted to the bar in 1870 ; was elected to
the Legislature in 1875; was nominated for gov-
ernor of Tennessee in 1886, and was defeated by his
brother, Robert L. Taylor; was elected to Congress
in 1.889, and re-elected in 1891.
TAYLOR, CoL. Charles H., an American journal-
ist, born in Charlestown, Mass., July 14, 1846. He
began industrial life doing chores and learning to
.?et type on the Massachusetts Ploughman, at a salary
of $2 per week. Later he changed to the office
of the Boston Traveler, remaining there until 1861,
when he enlisted in the 3Sth Jlassachusetts
Union Regiment. A year and a half later he was
wou'ided in battle and discharged, returning to
the office of the Traveler where he was placed on
tlie reportorial staff. By diligent application and
overtime work he soon succeeded in mastering
shorthand as well as becoming a more facile writer
for the press In 1866 he was sent to report a
meeting of the Anti-Slavery Society. Believing
that the speeches would prove to be of special in-
terest to the public he reported them in full, in-
cluding that of William Lloyd Garrison. His
report being declined by the Boston press, Mr.
Taylor forwarded it to the AVw Yorl- Tribune,
where it was accepted, and a check for it returned
by the next mail, with an invitation to become the
regular Boston correspondent of the Tribune.
His articles in the Tribune awakened notable
attention and brought him the ensuing year a
return of .$4,000. In 1872 he was a member of the
House of Representatives, and in 1873 was elected
Clerk of the House, a position which be held for
eleven years. During this time he became man-
ager of the Boston Globe, the paper having, when
he took charge of it, a circulation of 12,000 copies.
Under his management and enterprise the circula-
tion rapidly increased, and in 1.S90 reported a guar-
anteed daily issue of 1.5.5,937 copies, with a Sun-
day issue of 147,707 copies. Colonel Taylor's son,
C. H. Taylor, jr., a graduate of Harvard U^niver-
sity, inherits his father's talent for journalism,
and gives promise, in that line, of a most success-
ful future.
TAYLOR, EzR.\ B., member of Congress,
born at Nelson, Ohio, July 9. 1S23. He was
admitted to the bar in 1845: except while on
the bench and in the army has practiced his
profession ever since; was elected to fill a vacancy
in Congress in 1879. and has since been con-
tinuously re-elected; his present term expires in
1893.
TEKELI. Emeric. Count, a celebrated Hun-
14ftn
TELEGRAPH
garian patriot, descended from a noble Lutheran
family, born at the castle of Kasmark, in the
county of Zip.*;, in 165G, died at Constantinople in
1705." His wife, Helena, the widow of Ragotsky,
was celebrated all over Europe for her beauty, but
was no less distinguished for her heroic gallantry,
as was proved by her obstinate defense of her cas-
tle of Mongatz against an army of Imperialists.
TELEGRAPHS IN THE UNITED STATES.
TELEGRAPH STATISTICS — CONTINUED.
Links.
Miles of
Wire.
Miles of
Poles and
Cables.
No. of
Offices.
No. of
Employes
Western Union
678,997
29,500
3,000
1,09J
95,000
183,917
6,200
3.000
963
60,000
19,382
1,598
55
56
4,500
30,000
Postal
5,300
United States Government
90
57
Smaller Lines
7,000
Total
807,589
254,180
25,591
42.447
THE WESTERN UNION TELEGRAPH COMPANY.
Statement exhibiting the mileage of lines oper-
ated, number of offices, number of messages sent,
receipts, expenses and profits, for each year since
1868.
Tear
Miles of
Pole! 4
Milesof
Offices.
Messages
Receipts.
Expenses.
Profits.
Cables
1868
50,183
97,,594
3,219
6,404,595
$7,004,560
^,362,849
$2,641,711
I8tJ9
52,099
104,584
3,607
7,934,933
7,310,918
4,563,117
2,748,301
1870
54.109
112,191
3,972
9,157,646
7,138,738
4,910,772
2,227,966
1871
5(i,o:s
121,151
4,606
10,646,077
7.637,449
5,104,737
2,532,662
187i
62,o:o
137,190
5,237
12,414,499
8,457,096
5,666,363
2,790,233
1873
65,-57
154,472
6,740
14,4.56,832
9,3,13,019
6,575,056
2,757,963
1874
71,585
175,735
6,188
16,329.2.%
9,262 ,654
6,755,734
2,506,920
1875
72,833
179,496
6,.565
17.1,53.710
9,564,575
6,335,415
3,229,1.58
lit76
73,.yr2
183,332
7,072
18,729,.567
10,034,984
6,635,474
3.399,510
1877
76,955
194,323
7,500
21,1.58,941
9,812,353
6,672,225
3,140,128
1878
81.002
206,202
3,014
23,918.894
9 861,355
6,309,813
3,551,543
1879
82,987
211,566
8,534
25,070,106
10,960,640
6,160,200
4,800,440
1880
85,645
233,534
9,077
29,215,509
12,782,395
6,948,957
5,833,933
1831
l!0,:t40
327,171
10,7:17
32,500,000
14,393,.544
3,485,264
5,903,280
188a
131,060
374,368
12,068
38,342,247
17,114,166
9,996,096
7,118,070
188;i
144,294
432 726
12,917
41,181.177
19.454.903
11,794,553
7,660,350
1884
145.o:n
450,571
13.761
42,076,2-26
19,632,940
13,022,504
6,610,436
1835
147.500
462,283
14,184
42,0!I6,583
17,706,834
12,005,910
5,700,924
1886
151,832
489,607
15,142
43,289,807
16.298.639
12,378,783
3,919,355
1887
156,814
524,641
15,658
47,394,530
17.191.910
13,154,629
4,037,281
1888
171,375
616,248
17,241
51,463,95,5
19.711.164
14.640,592
5,070,572
1889
178,754
647,697
18,470
,54,108.:t26
20.783.194
14,,,S5,153
6,213,041
1890
183 917
673,997
19 382
55,878,762
22,387 029
15,074,304
7,312,725
The avcraffe toll per message In 1368 was 104.7; in 1889 was 31.2; in 1890
wa8 32.4. The areraffe cost per message to the company in 1368 was
63.4; in 1889 was 22.4; in 1890 was 22.7.
TELEGRAPH STATISTICS OF THE WORLD.
Algeria
Argentine Republic
Anstria-Hungary
Bel^um
Bolivia
Brazil
Bulgaria
Canada
Cape of Good Hope
Chili
Columbia
Costa Riea
Costa
Denmark
Dutch East Indies .
Ktiuador
Kgypt
France
Germany
1888
1889
188.S
1889
1889
18S9
1888
1889
1889
1889
1888
1888
1889
1889
1887
1889
1889
1889
1888
Miles of
Lines.
7,000
14,700
38,159
4,013
180
6.300
2.7.50
29,400
4,339
10.640
2,800
600
2,810
3,674
6,556
1,200
3,172
54,560
57,763
Miles of
Wires.
16,000
a8,550
m,53J
19,030
11,160
"61V2V9
10,280
5,423
241,800
186,733
Number of
Messages.
3.5U.420
13,240,642
7,266.694
16,127
567,935
620,690
4,064.381
1,063,949
572,333
112,639
396,366
666,869
22,341,000
17.782,323
Great Britain and Ireland.. 1889
1889
1888
1888
1889
Greece
Guatamala
Hawaii
Honduras
India, British
Italy
Japan
Luxemburg
Mexico
Montenegro
Netherlands
New South Wales. ,
New Zealand
Nicaragua
Norw.ty ,
Orange Free State ,
Paraguay
Persia
Peru
Philippine Islands
Porto Rico
Portugal
Queensland
Roumauia
Russia
Salvador
Servia
Siam
South Australia...
Spain
Sweden
Switzerland
Tasmania
Transvaal
Tunis
Turkev
United States
Uruguay
Venezuela
Victoria.
Western Australia
Total
1889
1888
1889
1889
1889
1889
1889
1889
1888
1889
1889
1889
1889
1878
1889
1889
1885
1889
1888
1888
1888
1889
1889
1889
1887
1889
1888
1889
18811
1889
1889
1890
1890
1888
1889
1889
Miles of
Lines.
30,726
4,362
1,923
250
1,800
31,894
19,460
6,164
1,6.53
27,861
280
3.100
12,000
4.992
1.700
5.638
1,120
100
3,824
1,382
720
470
3,210
9,167
3,271
88,280
1,440
1,810
1,000
5,509
11,512
5,120
4,340
1,894
1,250
2,000
15,000
2;54,110
2.234
3.000
4.194
2,385
Miles of
Wires.
183,502
5,062
Number of
Messages.
93,517
73,160
10,850
22,219
11,617
10,282
6,124
7,468
16,M8
8,084
172,360
3,060
11,448
28,870
13,:340
10,540
2,505
807,589
842,812
10,360
2,659
',765.347
936,638
457,009
2,807,617
8,772,671
2,564,514
4,059,674
3,410,417
1,765,860
1,314,583
1,730,107
1,284,438
1,317,689
10,477,049
471,126
3,549,860
1,430,481
3,000,000
271,769
80,000.000
148.166
408,514
2,743,938
180,735
The number of telcirraphie messages annually transmitted
may be estimated at 300,000,000.
The greatly increased mileage since 1880 is prin-
cipally due to the fact that in 1881 the Western
Union Telegraph Company absorbed by purchase
all the lines of the American Union and the At-
lantic and Pacific Telegraph Company, the former
having previously in operation over 12,000 miles of
line, and the latter 8,706 miles. Capital stock of
the Western Union $86,200,000.
The Western Union has exclusive contracts with
several International Cable Companies, operating
eight Atlantic cables, and guarantees 5 per cent,
annual dividends on the stock of the American
Cable Company ; amount, $14,000,000.
Besides the above, there are many new lines of
Telegraph, which have complied with the United
States Telegraph Act of 1866, and are operating
wires with or without connection with railway
companies.
The Mutual Union Telegraph Company, of the
United States, established in 1881, has about 8,000
miles of line, 60,000 miles of wire, 1,200 offices,
and has extended its lines north and south, oper-
ating alreadv from Boston to Chicago, St. Louis,
Washington,' etc. Capital stock, $2,500,000. This
lino is now leased and operated by the Western
Union Telegraph Company.
The Baltimore and Ohio Railroad Telegraph,
TELEOSAURUS — TELESCOPES
1481
having lines coextensive with its railway system
and branches, besides many newly extended wires
south and west, constituting (5,711 miles of line
and 54.087 miles of wire, was purchased for
$5,000,000 in 1SS7 by the Western I'nion Com-
pany, which now owns and operates.it.
The Bankers and Merchants' Telegraph Com-
pany, New York, organized March 23, 1881, has
about 4,000 miles of line, 28,300 miles of wire, and
is in operation to manv leading points. Capital
authorized, $3,000,000. "Debt about $7,500,000, as
stated in August, 1884. Sold in foreclosure, July
31, 1885, and now operated by the United Lines
of Telegraph.
The American Rapid Telegraph Company, New
York to Boston, Philadelphia, Baltimore, Wash-
ington, Buflalo, etc., with capital stock of $4,000,-
000. Has been leased by the Western Union
Company.
The Postal Telegraph and Cable Company, of
New York, organized June 21, 1881, has about
1,500 miles of line, and 4,500 miles of wire in oper-
ation, from New York to Chicago, etc., and owns
what are claimed to be very valuable patents in
improved wires and telegraphy. Authorized cap-
ital stock, $21,000,000, of which about $7,000,000
has been issued. Now operated by the United
Lines of Telegraph.
The aggregate mileage of telegraph lines in
the United State open for public business exceeds
190,000 miles, besides railway, government, pri-
vate, and telephonic lines', length not ascertain-
able.
TELEOSAURUS, a genus of fossil crocodiles,
whose remains occur in the oolitic rocks. They
are found associated with marine fossils, and the
peculiar modification of their skeleton seems to
have specially fitted them for an aquatic life. Both
surfaces of the vertebra were slightly concave, the
hind legs were large and strong, and the anterior
portion of the body gradually tapered into the long
and slender jaws, which were armed with numer-
ous equal and slender teeth, slightly recurved, and
admirably adapted for the capture of fishes, with
which tlie oolitic seas abounded. No less than
twenty species have been de.scribed.
TELEPHONES, in the United States. The
following are the latest statistics made public by
the American Bell Telephone Company, which
practically monopolizes the telephone business in
the United States :
1890.
Exchanges
Branch offices
Miles of wire on poles
Miles of wire on buildings
Miles of wire underground
Miles of wire submarine . .
Total miles of wire
Total circuits
Total employes
Total subscribers
1888.
1889.
7.39
742
452
452
127,839
142,631
10,225
10,266
8,009
17,038
365
536
14fi,43S
170,471
132,004
143,687
G,1S3
6,310
158.712
171,454
154
11
193,
156,
6,
185,
tOt
471
009
,484
117
603
213
780
758
003
The number of instruments in the hands of
licensees under rental at the be,giuning of 1890 was
444,861. The number of exchange connections
daily in the United States is 1,240,147, or a total
per year of over 400,000,000. The average luini-
ber of daily calls per subscriber is 6.13. The com-
pany received in rental of telephones in 1889,
$2,657,361. It paid its .stockholders in dividends
in 1889, $1,838,913.
The Bell Company and its subsidiary companies
represent about $80^000,000 of capital ; the Long-
Distance Telephone Company about $5,000,000.
TELEPHONING LON(i' DISTANCES. In
April, 1891, a telephone line was opened for public
use between Paris and Loudon, a distance of 297
miles. There has been telephoning over much
greater distances in the United States since 1883,
when conversation was carried on between New"
York and Cleveland, a distance of 650 miles, and
since then communication has been obtained be-
tween Boston and Chicago (1,00C miles). At the
time of the great blizzard of 1888, the only direct
means of communication between Boston and New
York for several days was over along distance tele-
phone wire, which withstood the storm that pros-
trated all the other lines. A charge of two dollars
is made for three minutes' use of the wire between
the English and French capitals. For general
article on the telephone see Britannica, Vol. XXIII,
pp. 127, 135.
TELESCOPES. For general subject see illus-
trated article in Britannica, Vol. XXII, pp. 135-
154. Alvan Clark & Sons, of Cambridgeport,
Mass., constructed in 1860 a telescope of eighteen
and one-half-inch aperture, then the largest re-
fractor known. It was originally intended lor the
University of Mississippi, but, being prevented by
the Civil War from reaching its destination, it was
purchased by the Chicago Astronomical Society
and mounted at the Dearborn Observatory. In
1873, the Clarks completed a twenty-six-iuch re-
fractor for the U. S. Naval Observatory at Wash-
ington, the contract price for which was $46,000.
At the same time they made for Mr. Leander
McCormick an objective of a slightly larger aper-
ture, which they mounted in 1883 at the Univensity
of Virginia. In 1879 the Clarks entered into a
contract with the Russian government to furnish
an objective glass of thirty inches, and in 1880 with
the trustees of the Lick Observatory for one of
thirty-six inches. The glass for these large lenses
comes either from Birmingham, England, or from
Paris, France. The makers experienced great
difficulties in obtaining disks of the requisite de-
gree of purity, particularly in the case of the thirty-
six-inch crown-glass disk, which involved nearly
three years' labor and nineteen failures, before a
suitable piece was obtained. Of smaller objectives
the Clarks have made a great number, some sixty
or more, between the apertures sis and twelve
inches.
The mounting for the thirty-inch Pulkowa (Rus-
sian) objective was made by a firm of Hamburg,
Germany, and that for the Lick lens by Warner
& Swasey, of Cleveland, Ohio. The eye end of the
Lick telescope is provided with a fine position
micrometer made by Tauth & Co., and a stellar
spectroscope made by Brashear. For use as a
photographic telescope, a third (crown) lens of
thirty-tbree-inch clear aperture is mounted in
front of the objective, its application shortening
the focal length of the telescope Liy ten feet. It is
yery desirable to have means by which the ordinary
visual objective can be readily transformed into a
photographic objective, in order to correct the
1482
T E L L E R — T E M P E R A X C E T E 31 P L E .
chromatic aberration. The third (photographic)
lens is removed when direct observations are to
be made.
Following is a list of the largest reflecting tele-
scopes, and another list of the largest refracting
telescopes of the world:
LIST OF THE LAEGEST REFLECTORS IN THE
WORLD.
.\perturc.
Observatory or Owner.
Cen-
tim-
eters.
In.
Constructed by
Lord Eosse, Birr Castle,
la's
128
122
122
122
120
W
9U
85
80
71
72
50}
48
48
48
47
.•17
36
33.'.
31 i
28
Lord Rosse. 1844.
Bessemer, London
Sir W. Herscbel. Slough
Lassell, Liverpool
Melbourne Observatory-
Paris Observatory
Common, Ealing'
Lord Rosse, Birr Castle
Toulouse Observatory . .
Marseilles Observatory.
Harvard College Observ-
atory
Bessemer.
Herschel.
Lassell, 1860 (destrd).
Grubb, 1870.
Martin. Eichens, 1876.
Calver and Common.
1870.
Lord Rosse.
Henrj-. Secretan.
Foucault. Eichens.
H. Draper.
LIST OF KEFRiCTOKs — continued.
LIST OF THE LARGEST REFRACTORS IS
WORLD.
.\perture.
Observatory or Owner.
Cen-
lini-
etere.
III.
Contitrncted by
Liek Observatorr, ilt.
Hamilton, Cal
91A
76"
76
71
73i
68i
66
66
63i
58i
48A
48i
47
40i
40i
40i
39i
38J
38
38
38
38
38
38
38
.■M
34
33
33
36
30
30
28
27
27
26
26
25
23
18
18
18J
16"
10
10
151
14
14
14
14
15
14
14
13i
13i
13
13
Clark, Warner and
Swasev. 1887.
Clark. Repsold. 1884.
Nice ■ - - -
HeniT. Gautier. 1886.
Grubb.
Paris
Martin (Eichens).
Grubb.
McCormick Obscrvatory
Clark. 1883.
Clark. 1873.
Kewell, Gateshead, Eng.
Cooke. 1868.
Clark. 1881.
Merz. Repsold, 1879.
]^[i]an
Merz. 1879.
Dearborn Observatory
(near Chicago)
Dr. Yan Duzee. Buffalo .
Warner Observatory.
Clark, 1863.
Fitz.
Clark. 1880.
Carleton College Observ-
Brashear.
Washburn Observatory.
Madison, Wis
Dun Echt Observatoiy,
( Lord Lindsay)
Harvard College Observ-
Clark. 1879.
Grubb, 1875.
Merz. 1843.
Pulkowa Observatory..
Paris Observatory
Lisbon Observatory
Huggins, London
Brussels Observatory.. .
Bordeaux Observatory. .
Litchfield Observatory,
Clinton, N. Y "..
Markreo Castle. Ireland.
Columbia College, Xew
York
Dubley Observatory. Al-
bany
Merz. 1840.
Lerebours, Brunner.
1854.
Merz. Repsold. 1861.
Grubb. 1871.
Merz, Cooke, 1880.
Merz. Eichens. 1880.
Spencer and Eaton.
Cauchoix. Grubb. 1834.
Rutherfurd.
Fitz.
Observatorv or Owner.
Harvard College Observ
atory
Catania- Etna
Greenwich
Ann Arbor, Mich
Yassar College, Pough
keepsie. K. Y
Momson Observatory..
Oxford, England
Cambridge. England . . .
Dublin, Ireland
Radcliffe Observatory
Oxford
Middletown. Conn
S. Y. White. Brooklyn
X. Y
Alleghany. Pa
Harvard College Observ
atory
IT. S. Slilitarv Academv
West Point "..
Lick Observatory. Cal..
Vienna ^
.\perture.
Cen.
tim.
elers.
33
32i
32i
32
31*
31
31
30i
m
30i
30i
30i
30i
13
12
12J
m
12i
12i
12
12
12
12
12
12
Constmcteil by
.30i ; 12
30J
30i
30A
CTark.
Merz. 1877.
Merz. Trouton and
Simms. 1860.
Fitz.
Fitz (reworked by
Clark).
Oark. 1876.
Grubb, 18i5.
Cauchoix.
Cauchoix.
Cauchoix.
Clark. 1869.
Clark (reworked. 1867).
Fitz (reworked by
Clark. 1874).
Clark. 1888.
aark. 1884.
Clark. 1881.
Clark. 1876.
TELLER. Henry M., United States senator,
born in AUeghanj- couHty, N. T., May 23, 1830.
He studied law, was admitted to the bar in New
York, and has since practiced; removed to Hlinois
in 1858, and thence to Colorado in 1861: was
elected to the United States Senate (on the admis-
sion of Colorado as a state), and took his seat Dec.
4, 1876; was re-elected Dec. 11, 1876, and served
until April 17, 1882, when he was appointed
Secretary of the Interior by President Arthur, and
served until March 3, 1885; was again elected to
the United States Senate, arid took his seat March
4, 1885. His present term expires in 1897.
TEMBU, Abatesibc, or Tajmbookie, the name
of an important tribe of Kaffirs, occupying the
region east of the present boundary of the Cape
Colony, where it forms the eastern limit of the dis-
trict of Queenstown, formed by Sir Harry Smith,
in 1849, 18.30. a rather elevated plateau, from
which flow the headwaters of the Kei, Bashee,
Tsomo, and other important rivers. They num-
ber about 90,000 .souls, and are of a less warlike
and predatory nature than the adjoining tribes of
the Amaxosa and Amagaleka Kaffirs. They have
located themselves in the unoccupied country east
of the White Kei and Tsomo Rivers, a good pas-
toral region, but rather bare of wood.
TEMPER AXCE REFORM. See Temperance
Societies, in Britannica, Vol. XXII. pp. 158-160.
TEMPERANCE TEMPLE. This temple, now
approaching completion, is one of the notable
buildings of Chicago. The corner-stone was laid
in the presence of a large audience Nov. 1, 1890,
with imposing ceremonies, conducted by Miss
Frances Willard, president of the Women's Na-
tional Christian Temperance Union, and her asso-
ciates in the executive administration of that
society. The edifice is to cost $1,100,000, and is
to be "completed by May 1, 1892. Its foundation
measures 190 feet on LaSalle street, and 96 feet on
TEMPLATE — TEX ED OS.
1483
Monroe stivct. The edifice is thirteen stories
high, including ten stories from the ground level
to the cornice, and three stories above that line.
The subjoined accredited description has been
kindlv furni.'-hed for insertion :
TEMPEKASCE TEMPLE.
It will be a steel, fire-proof building, the first
two stories being faced with a rich, dark red gran-
ite, and the remaining stories to the cornice with
a fine pressed brick, made to order, of a new and
corresponding tint. The architecture is descriljed
as French Gothic. The LaSalle street front bears
a very striking resemblance to the Adams street
front of the Pullman Building. Its general ground
plat is somewhat in the .shape of the letter H. The
building consi.sts of two immense wings united by
a narrower middle portion, called a vinculum. In
this wing there will be a central court, 70 feet
long and 30 feet deep, on the LaSalle street front,
and a similar court 18 feet deep on the west side
of the building, designed to admit light and pro-
mote ventilation, as well as a feature of beauty.
The LaSalle street front will be made continuous
by a lofty stone arch, which will span the court
and form the main entrance. The foitr corners
presented to LaSalle street will receive a rounded
turret treatment, and the intermediate windows in
the ft-ont of each wing will be grouped under a
broad arch on the nest .story. The steep roof is
broken into terraces, marking the three stories
above the cornice, each of which has its strikingly
beautiful gothic windows. From the roof of the
vinculum rises m graceful gold bronze fleche to the
height of 70 additional feet, surmounted with a
symbolical figure of a woman with face upturned
and arm outstretched, as if in prayer. The archi-
tectural effect of the whole design, therefore, is
not a little temple-like.
In the interior this great building will be fully
as much like a temple of mammon as a temple of
2
temperance. The basement will probably coiitaifi
a restaurant. The first floor has already been
rented to three banks, with the exception of a
large room at the southwest corner of the building
and a broad hull leading to it from an entrance on
Monroe street, near the northern corner of the
building This reserved room is to be called
Willard Hall. It is to be the trystiug place of
the temperance advocates of the world. It is to
be beautified with fountains, statuary, paintings
and relics, and from it is to ascend "daily for all
time to come the incense of prayer for the abate-
ment of the liquor evil. Even the broad hallway
leading to it is to be lined with marble and em-
blazoned with memorials of the temperance con-
flict. A considerable portion of the upper floors,
ncit yet selected, will be used for the other work of
the Women's Christian Temperance Union ; but,
with these exceptions, everything, from cellar to
garret, is to be rented for business purposes. To
add to its eligibility, every conceivable modern
convenience will be provided, and, among other
things, eight great elevators.
This enterprise, under the auspices of the
Women's National Christian Union, was sjiecially
conducted by the Women's Building Association,
of which Mrs. Matilda B. Carse was the head.
The association proposes to raise the money, or, as
it claims, has already raised it, bv the sale of
•fGOO.OOO worth of stock, and a loan of $500,000,
for which bonds have been Lssued, secured on the
property. But the stockholders are under obliga-
tions to sell their stock to the association at any
time within twelve years, and in this way the
women intend to own the whole outfit in a short
time. The process of raising money for this pur-
pose is going on incessantly through the " Union
Signal," which is pressing into service many women
and children in the United States as coUeetors and
contributors. There is no doubt of ultimate suc-
cess in this colo.ssal financial venture. The build-
ing, when completed, is expected to bring a reve-
nue of $250,000 per annum.
TEMPLATE, a mold in wood or metal, show-
ing the outline or profile of moldings, from which
muld the workmen execute the molding.
TEMPLEMORE, a market town of the county
of Tipperary, province of !Munster, Ireland, situ-
ated on the right bank of the River Suir, nine miles
north of Thurles. Although without manufacto-
ries of any note, Templemore has some considera-
ble share of inland tralflc. It is a station on the
Great Southern and Western Railway, seventy-
nine miles distant from Dublin. The public build-
ings, one of which is an extensive barrack, are
substantial, but without any noteworthy architect-
ural character. The population in 1871 was
3,443, of whom almost all were Koman Catholics.
TENDA COL DE, a pass over the maritime
Alps.
TENDER, in naval language, a small vessel ap-
pointed for the service of a larger one. Steam
gunboats are most commonlv emploved as tenders.
TENEDOS (Turk. Borjdsha-Ailassi), an island
belonging to Turkey, in tlie northeast of the J2gean
Sea,ofl'thec.oastof the Troad, about seventeen miles
south of the westeni entrance to the Strait of the
Dardanelles. It is about five miles long by two
broad, rocky, but not unproductive, with a popula-
tion of more than 6,000, who are partly Greeks and
1484
T E N E S — T E N N E S S E E .
partly Turks. The chief town, also called Tenedos,
or Bugdsha, on the northeast coast, is the seat of
a Gi'eek bishop and Turkish aga, and carries on an
active trade in wine.
TENES, a rising seaport of Algeria, 100 miles
west of the city of Algiers. It is happily situated
for commerce, is the entrepot for Orleansville, and
the depot for the supply of the army with pro-
visions. It is at once fortunate in the agricultural
resources of its territory, in its mineral wealth,
and its position in respect to tran.sit-trade. The
population of the commune is about 8,000.
TENNESSEE, State of. For general article on
Tennessee, see Britannica, Vol. XXIII.pp. 170-179.
The census of 1890 reports the area and popula-
tion as follows: Area, 42,050; population, 1,707,-
.518, an increase during the decade of 22."), 1.^9.
Capital, Nashville, with a population of 70,168.
The following table gives the populatinn of the
cities and towns of the State, which in 1890 had
each over 8,000 inhabitants; also their population
in 1880, and their ratio of increase:
AKEA AND POPULATION — Continued.
Cities and Towns.
Cbattanooga
Jackson .. . .
KuoxviUe ..
Memphis . . .
Nasliville . . .
29,100
10,039
22,53.5
04,495
76,168
12,892
5,377
9,693
33.592
43,350
16,208
4,662
12,842
30,903
32,818
Per
Cent.
125.72
86.70
132.49
92.00
7.5.70
Akeas and Population by Counties. The
land areas in square miles, and the population,
severally, of the counties of the state were as fol-
lows in 1890 :
Anderson . . .
Bedford
Benton
Bledsoe
Blount
Bradley
Campbell . . .
Cannon
Carroll
Carter
Cheatham . .
Chester
Claiborne . .
Clay
Cocke
Coffee
Crockett . . .
Cumberland
Davidson . .
Decatur
DeKalb....
Dickson
Dyer
Fayetto
Fentress . . .
Franklin . . .
Gibson
Giles
(irainger. . .
Greene
Grimdy
Hamblen . .
Hamilton ..
Htmeock . . .
Hardeman..
Hardin
Hawkins. . .
Haywood ..
.\roa
Population
St), m.
1890.
300
15,128
520
24,739
412
11,2.30
300
6,134
614
17,589
280
13,607
488
13,486
280
12,197
600
2:i,(!;!0
298
13,389
400
8,845
288
9,069
472
15,103
260
7,260
458
16,523
360
13,827
260
1.5,140
275
5,:t76
508
108.174
310
8.995
310
15.650
620
13,C>45
495
19.878
630
28,878
510
5,226
570
18.929
610
35,859
656
.34,957
294
13,196
580
26,614
410
6,345
150
11.418
440
53,482
260
10.:i42
640
21,029
.560
17,698
490
22.246
570
23,.5.58
Population
1880.
10,820
26.025
9;780
5,617
15.985
12,124
10,005
11,8.59
22. 103
10,019
7,956
13.:! 73
6.9S7
14,808
12,894
14,109
4,538
79,026
8.498
14.813
12,460
15,118
31.871
.5.941
17.178
32,685
3(i,014
12.384
24.005
4.,592
10,187
23,642
9.098
22,921
14,793
20,610
26.053
Henderson . . .
Henry
Hickman
Houston
Humphreys ..
.Jackson
James
Jefferson
Johnsou
Knox . . .'
Lake
La uderdide . . ,
Lawrence*
Lewis
Lincoln
Loudon
lleMinn
McNairy
ilaeon
.Madison
llariou
MarshivU
Maury
Meigs
Monroe
Montgomery
Moore
Morgan
Obion
Overton
Perrv
Pickett
Polk
Putnam
Rhea
Roane
Robertson . . .
Rutherford . .
Scott
Sequatchie . .
Sevier
Shelby
Smith
Stewart
Sullivan
Sumner
Tipton
Trousdale . . .
(Tuicoi
Union
Van Buren..
WaiTen
Washington.
Wa,yue
We'aklcv
White :
Williamson .
Wilson
.\rea Population
si\. m. 1890.
Population
530
16,336
580
21,070
648
14,499
210
5,390
420
11.720
280
13,325
210
4,903
310
16,478
•MO
8,858
.520
59,557
210
5,304
450
18,756
676
12,286
280
2,.555
540
27,.382
2S0
9,273
452
17,890
5.50
15,510
332
10,878
520
30,497
.50(1
15,411
.350
18,906
600
38,112
200
6,930
580
15,329
1)40
29,697
IVO
5,975
448
7,639
540
27,273
360
12,039
420
7,785
240
4.736
400
8,361
430
13,683
360
12,647
450
17,418
538
20.078
580
35,097
620
9,794
252
3,027
.560
18,761
728
112,740
368
18,404
500
12,193
410
20,879
536
23,668
404
21,271
166
5,850
196
4,019
220
11,459
;^22
2,86;i
446
14,413
344
20,354
720
11,471
620
28,955
390
12,348
550
26,321
5:i6
27,148
17,430
22,142
12,095
4,295
11, 1^79
12,008
5,187
15,846
7,766
:J9,124
3,968
14,918
10„383
2,181
26.960
9,148
15,064
17.271
9,321
30,874
10,910
19,259
39,904
7,117
14,283
28,481
6,233
5,156
22,912
12,153
7,174
' 7,269
11,501
7,073
15,237
18,861
36,741
6,021
2.565
15.541
78.430
17.799
12,690
18.321
23,625
21,033
6,640
3,645
10,260
2,933
14,079
16,181
11,301
24,538
11,176
28.313
28.747
Governors of Tennes.see. The following is a
complete list of the governors of the state, with
the periods and dates of service:
"STATU OF FRANKLIN."
John Sevier, 1785-1788.
TKKIUTOEY OK TENNESSEE.
William Blount, 1790-1796.
STATE OF TENNESSEE.
John Sevier. 179(>-1801.
Archibald Roane. lK01-0:t.
John Sevier. 180:i-09.
Williaui iilouut. 1809-1,5.
.loscpli McMiiui, 1,S1.5--.'L
William Carn.ll. IS21-27.
Samuel l](.usliiu. 1827-29.
William Carroll, 1829-35.
Newtiiii Cannon, 18:35-39.
James K. Polk, 1839-41.
.lames ('. Jones, 1841—15.
Aaron V. Brown, 1845-47.
Neil S. Brown, 1847-49.
William Trousdale. 1849-51
William B. Campbell, 1851-53.
Andrew Johnson, 1853-57.
Isham G. Harris, 1857-62.
Andrew Johnson, 1862-65.
Win. G. ISrownlow, 1865-69.
De WittC. Senter, 1869-71.
John C. Brown, 1871-75.
James D. Porter, 1875-79.
Albert S. Marks, 1879-81.
Alvin Hawkins, 1881-83.
Wm. B. Bate. 188.3-87.
Robert L. Ta\'Ior. 1887-91.
John P. Buchanan. 1891-93.
TENNIEL — TEEHUNE.
1485
The governor's salary is $4,000.
Brief Historic Outline. Tennessee was
early claimed by North CaroHna as a part of her
territory. In 1757 Fort Loudon was erected on the
Teunesaee River. The North Carolina people set-
tled in the Holston Kiver region. Other earlv
settlers came from Virsiuia and South Carolina.
In the Revolutionary \Yar the settlers joined the
patriot:-;, and in 1776 fought with and signally
defeated the Indians. Early in 17S.J the settlers iii
Ea.<t Tennessee formed a state government of their
own, namingtheir new state Franklin orFrankland,
and holding their first legislature later in the same
year. On June 1, 1790, a state constitution was
adopted, and the new state was admitted into the
Union. Knosville became the capital. An ordi-
nance of secession was adopted. Numerous severe
battles were fought during the Civil War. In
April, 1865, the legislature ratified the Thirteenth
Ameudment, and July 15th the Fourteenth
Amendment.
Progre.'5s of population in Tennessee by decades:
In 1790, 35,691; 1800, 105,602; 1810, 261,727;
1820,422,771; 1830,681,904; 1840,829,210; 1850
1,002,717; 1860, 1,109,801; 1870, 1,258,520; 1880
1,542,359; 1890,1,767,518.
For numerous other items of interest relating to
the State of Tennessee, see the article United
States in these Revisions and Additions.
TENNIEL, John, artist, born in 1820. Show-
ing the possession of artistic taste at an early age,
he may be considered as entirely self-taught. He
was a successful candidate in one of the cartoon
competitions for the decoration of Westminster
Hall, and painted a fresco for the Palace at West-
minster. His illustrations of books, although not
comprising many, have always been characterized
by great taste. Wlien Alice in Wonderland made
its appearance, some portion of the notice it ob-
tained may fairly be attributed to his illustrations
of the book. In 1851 he joined the. statt'of" Punch,"
with which newspaper he has since been connected,
and for which he draws the cartoon. Many of his
sketches have obtained world-wide notice "by this
means, among the most famous of his recent car-
toons being one that appeared in March, 1890, en-
titled Dropping the Pilot. The original of this
sketch, which had reference to the resignation of
Prince Bismarck, was purchased by the Earl of
Rosebery and presented to the e.x-chancellor.
TENNYSON, Alfred, Baron (creat. 1884),
the son of Rev. George Clayton Tennvson, rector
of Somersby, Lincolnshire; born at' Somersby,
England, in 1809. He was educated at Cambridge,
where he gained the Chancellor's medal for his
poem in blank ver.se, Timbuctoo; married Emily,
daughter of Henry Selwood, of Peasmore, arid
niece of Su- John Franklin; has been Poet Lau-
reate since 1850. He published in 1830 his first
volume. Poems Chiefli/ Lyrical; followed by Poems;
Hie Princess — which contains what many con-
sider the finest of his Ivries; Tears, Mle 'Tears-
Mai/ Queen, and Lockslc}/ Hall; In Memoriam ~i\
tribute to the memory of Arthur Hallam, son of
the hi.'itorian; this fine poem was at first published
anonymously. His other chief works being Maud:
Idylls of the King; Enoch Arden; The Holy Grail';
The Windotv, or the Songs of the Wren; Garcth
and Lynette; Queen Mary;' Harold; The Cup;
The Promise of May; The Cup and the Falcon;
Becket; Tireaias; Locksley Hall; Sixty Years After
—which attracted a great deal of attention; Jubilee
Ode, published in 1887. Lord Tennvson has for
many years resided at Freshwater, in the Isle of
Winht; Aldworth: or at Rundhurst, Susses. Al-
most simultaneously with the publication, in 1889,
of Asolando, by Robert Browning, a volume of
poetry by Lord Tennyson was issued, entitled
Dcmcter. and containing some very choice poems.
Among its contents was Crossing'the Bar. which,
by its exquisite music, excited great admiration.
TENTACULITES, agenusof oli-scure anniilated
tapei'ins shells, found abundantly in some strata of
Silurian ;ige. They are general'lv referred to an-
nelids, but the structure of the shell seems to
exhibit greater afliuities to recent pteropodous
molhuscs.
TENTERDEN, a municipal borongh and market-
town in the Weald of Kent, eighteen miles .south-
east of Maidstone. The church, which contains
portions of Early English, is surmounted by a
massive and lofty perpendicular tower. Tradition
asserts, that a quantity of stones, which had been
got together for the purpose of strengthening the
sea-wall of the Goodwin Sands, were employed in
the building of this tower, and that when the next
storm came, the district of Goodwin Sands, which
had formerly belonged to the mainland, was sub-
merged. Thus arose the popular saying, that
" Tenterden steeple was the cause of the Goodwin
Sands. " Population in 1871, 3,669.
TERCE (L;it. tenia — i. e., hora, the third hour),
one of the " Lesser Hours " of the Roman Brevi-
ary, so called from the time of the day for which it
is fixed.
TERCE, in the law of Scotland, the interest or
estate which a widow has in the land of her de-
ceased husband at common law. This amounts
to a life rent of one-third of such estates.
TERENTIUS AFER, Publics, the comic poet,
born at Carthage, 195 B.C. By birth or purchase,
he became the slave of the Roman senator, P.
Terentius Liicanus, who, out of regard to his hand-
some per.son and unusual talents, educated him
highly, and finely manumitted him. On his man-
umis.sion, he assumed, of course, his patron's
nomen Terentius. His first play was the Andria,
written in his twenty-seventh year, but not acted
till 166 B.C. Its success was immediate. He is
supposed to have died in his thirty-sixth or thirty-
seventh year, leaving one daughter. Six comedies
are extant under the name of Terentius, which are
perhaps all he produced, namely : Andria. Heci/ra.
Heauton-timoroumenos, Eunuchus, Phormio and
Adelphi. In conjimction with Plautus, Terentius,
on the revival of letters, was studied as a model by
the most accomplished ]ilay-writers. His language
is pure and almost immactilate.
TERHUNE. Mart Virginfa, an American au-
thoress, known by her pen name as Marion Har-
LAND, daughter of Samuel Hawes, a merchant of
Virginia, and wife of Edward Terhune, D.D., of
Brooklyn, born in Amelia county, Va., about 1S30.
She began to write for the newspapers at the age
of fourteen, and at sixteen published in a mas;a-
zine a sketch entitled Marrying from Prudential
Motives, which was copied in England, translated
for a French magazine, retranslated for a London
periodical, and copied again in its altered form in
the United States. Besides manv novels, she has
1486
T E E M I N r S — T E X A S .
written a number of popular works on housekeep-
ing ; was for some time editor of " Habyhood " ;
has edited special departments of " Saint Nich-
olas " and " Wide Awake "; and was the founder,
in 1888, of the " Home-Maker.".
TERMINUS, a Roman divinity, supposed to
preside over public and private boundaries. Origi-
nally, he appears to have been the same as Jupiter
himself, but gradually he was recognized as a sep-
i^rate and distinct god. Hardly any religious con-
ception is more thoroughly characteristic of the
Romans, that land-loving," law-reverencing peo-
ple, than the conception of Termiuns, whose wor-
ship was practiced down to a late period.
TERRA-PIRMA, a term frequently employed to
denote continental land as distinguished from
islands. But it was at one time more specially
applied — first, to all the mainland of Italy which
acknowledged the supremacy of Venice ; and sec-
ondly, to the extensive tract of South America,
bounded by the Pacific Ocean, Peru, the Silvas of
the Amazon, the Atlantic Ocean, and the Isthmus
of Panama, which mostly belonged to the Span-
iards during the last century. In a still more re-
stricted sense, the term was applied by the Span-
iards to the Isthmus of Panama itself
TERRE HAUTE, a city of Indiana. Population
in 1890, 30,217. See Britannica, Vol. XXIII,
p. 195.
TERRELL, a town of Texas, in Kaufman
county, a thriving trading and shipping point.
TERRY, Miss Ellex, an English actress, born
at Coventry in 1848. She made her first appear-
ance on the stage during Charles Keau's Shake-
spearian revivals in 1858, playing the parts of
Mamillius in The Winter's Tale and Prince Arthur
in King John. When only fourteen she was a
member of Mr. Chute's Bristol company, which in-
cluded Mrs. Kendal, Mrs. Labouchere, Kate Bishop,
and several other now prominent members of the
profession. She made her debut in London, in
1863, as Gertrude in The Little Treasure, and until
1864, played Hero in Much Ado About Nothing,
Mary Meredith in Our American Cousin, and other
secondary parts. In that year she married and
left the stage, but reappeared again in 1867, in The
Double Marriage at the New Queen's Theater,
Loudon. She afterward joined Mr. and Mrs. Ban-
croft at the Prince of Wales' Theater, where she
acted the part of Portia. In 1878 she made her
first appearance at the Lyceum, and has since, iu
conjunction with Mr. Irving, played in the longest
runs ever known of Hamlet, The Merchant of
Venice, Eomeo and Juliet, and Much Ado About
Nothing. She has also appeared as Viola in
Twelfth Night, Henrietta Maria in Charles I., Cam-
ma in Teuuyson's tragedy of The Cup, and Ruth
Meadows in Eugene Aram. She achieved immense
success as Marguerite in W. G. Wills' play of
Faust. She accompanied Mr. Irving on his Amer-
ican tour in 1887, and afterward reappeared at the
Lyceum in Faust, and at the same theater played
as Lady Macbeth and in Dead Heart. In 1890 she
appeared as Lucy Ashton in Ravenswood, with
great success. ,
TERRY, William L., member of Congress,
born in Anson county, N. C, Sept. 27, 1850.
He removed, with his parents, to Mississippi in
1857, and to Arkansas in 1861 ; w.as educated at
Bingham'.s Militaiy Academy, North Carolina, and
Trinity College, North Carolina, graduating in
1872 ; entered the profession of law in November,
1873; was an oflicer of Arkansas state troops in
1874; was elected a member of the City Council of
Little Rock in 1877, and a state senator in 1878,
.serving as president of the Senate ; was city attorney
of Little Rock eight terms. Was a delegate to the
Democratic National Conventions of 1884 and
1888. In 1890 was elected a representative from
the Fourth Congressional District of Arkansas to
the LII. Congress.
TEWFIK, Mohammed Tewfik Pasha, Khe-
dive OF Egypt, eldest son of Ismail Pasha, born
in 1852. He was made president of council by his
father upon dismissal of Nubar, in 1878. and
worked for a few weeks loyally with his colleagues.
Sir Rivers Wilson and ^I. de Blignieres, but re-
signed rather than be party to the coup d'etat.
On deposition of Lsmail he wus proclaimed Khe-
dive by Sultan's firman, in 1879; gave loyal sup-
port to Dual Control, 1879-82. He was unable to
resist rebellion of Arabi, but refused to take
refuge in British ships. After bombardment of
Alexandria be entered into negotiations with the
English, and proclaimed aumesty to all who would
return to obedience. This being iueflectual, after
Tel-el-Kobir Tewfik returned to Cairo. He be-
haved with great courage during the outbreak of
cholera in 1883, when, accompanied by his wife,
he visited the sick in .spite of the remonstrances of
niiui.sters. Atter 1S84 he usually acted under the
influence of Sir E. Baring. Though a Mohammedan,
Tewfik was strongly opposed to the Moslem institu-
tions of polygamy and slavery. He died iu 1892.
TEXARKANA, a town, the county seat of Miller
county. Ark., an important railway center, situated
about one-half in Arkansas, and the rest in Texas.
It is an important point on the southern line to the
Pacific coast. The post-office is iu the state of
Arkansas. Population in 1890, 3,486.
TEXAS State of. For general article on
Texas, see Britannica, Vol. XXIII, pp. 202-206.
The census of 1890 reports the area and population
as follows: Area 265,780; population, 2,235,523,
an increase during the decade of 643,774. Capi-
tal, Austni, with a population of 14,476. The fol-
lowing table gives the population of the cities and
towns of the state, which iu 1890 had each over
8,000 inhabitants; also their population iu 1880,
and their rate of increase:
Cities .\nd Towns.
Austin
Dalla.s
Doiiison
El Paso
Fort Wortli .
Galveston
Houston
Lavcdo
Paris
Sau Antonio .
Waco
47fi
OCT
,958
338
n8t
11,013
10,358
3.975
7«3
6.603
22,248
16,513
3.521
3,980
20,550
7,295
Per
Cent.
31.44
267.51
175.67
,.304.62
246.33
30.73
66.88
221.47
107.39
83.32
98.01
The census report of several other cities and
towns are as follows: Brenham, 4,683; Corpus
Christi, 4,,378 ; Corsicana, 8,278: Gainesville^
0,563; Marshall, 7,190; Palestine, 5,834; Sher-
man, 7,322 ; Tvler. 6.908; Navasota, 5,610.
TEXAS.
1487
Aeeas axd PoprLATiox BT Bounties. The
land areas in square miles, and the population,
severally, of the counties of the state were as fol-
lows. iul890:
Anderson
Andrews
Angelina
Aransas
Archer
Armstrong. . .
Atascosa
Austin
Bailcj-
Bandera
Bastrop
Baj-lor
Bee
Bell
Bexar
Blanco
Borden
Bosque
Bowie
Brazoria
Brazos
Brewster
Briscoe
Brown
Buchel
Burleson
Burnet
Caldwell
Calhoun
Callahan
Cameron
Camp
Carson
Cass
Castro
Chambers
Cherokee
Childress
Clay
Cochran
Coke
Coleman
ColUn
Collingsworth
Colorado
Comal
Comanche . . .
Concho
Cooke
Coryell
Cottle
Crane
Crockett
Crosby
Dallam
Dallas
Dawson
Deaf Smith ..
Delta
Denton
Dc Witt
Dickens
Dimmit
Donley
Duval
Eastland
Ector
Edwards
ElUs
ElPa,so
Encinal
Erath
Falls
Fannin
Fayette
Fisher
Floyd
Folev
Area,
sq. miles.
1.000
1.500
880
400
900
900
1.200
700
900
970
960
900
980
1,000
1.180
710
940
980
920
1.440
510
2,&tO
900
900
1.440
040
1.000
500
.500
900
1.960
200
900
950
840
1S40
1.000
7.50
1.100
840
900
1.290
880
900
900
580
960
1.010
920
1.000
1.080
1.000
3.510
900
1.400
900
900
L.'^O
260
900
880
«0
1.100
900
1.750
900
900
2.620
950
9.750
1,700
1.000
770
1,000
960
fK)0
1,100
2,100
Pop.
1890.
20,923
24
6,306
1.824
2.101
944
6,459
17.859
3,782
20.736
2.595
3.720
33.297
49.266
4.635
222
14,157
20.267
11.506
16.650
710
Pop
1880
17,395
5^239
996
596
31
4,217
14,429
2,1.58
17,215
715
2,298
20,518
30,470
3,5&3
35
11.217
10.965
9,774
13,576
12
11,359
8,414
A)7
13.001
9,243
10,721
6.855
15,769
11,757
815
1,739
5.4.34
3,453
14,424
14.959
6,624
5.931
356
22.554
16,724
9
2.241
2.187
22,975
16,723
1,175
25
7,503
5,045
2.6.59
6,088
3,603
36,736
25,983
357
6
19.512
16,673
6.398
5,546
16,393
8,608
1,059
800
24.696
20,391
16.816
10.924
240
24
15
194
127
346
82
ta
67,042
33,488
29
24
179
'.38
9.117
5. .597
21.289
18,143
14,307
10,082
295
28
1,049
665
1,056
160
7.598
5,732
10,.343
4,855
224
1,962
266
31.774
21,294
15,678
3,845
1.022
1,902
21.515
11,796
20.706
16,240
38,709
25,501
31.481
27,996
2,996
136
529
3
16
Fort Bend .
Franklin...
Freestone. .
Frio
Games
Galveston..
Garza
Gillespie . . .
Glasscock..
Goliad
Gonzales . .
Gray
Grayson . . .
Gregg
Gnmes
<;uadalupe .
Hale
Hall
Hamilton . .
Hansford . .
Hardeman .
Hardin
Hams
Harrison . . .
Hartley
Haskell
Hays
Hemphill . .
Henderson .
Hidalgo . . .
Hill
Hockler . . .
Hood..'
Hopkins . . .
Houston. . .
Howard . . .
Hunt
Hutohiuson
Irion
Jack
Jackson . . .
.laspcr
JeB Davis..
Jefferson . .
Johnson ...
Jones
Karnes
Kaufman ..
Kendall
Kent
Kerr
Kimble
King
Kinney
Knox
Lamar
Lamb
Lampasas . .
La Salle
Lavaca
Lee
Leon
Liberty
Limestone .
Lipscomb , .
Live Oak. . .
Llano
Loving
Lubbock - . .
Lynn
SlcCulloch .
.McLennan .
McMuUcn .
Madison ...
Marion
Martin
Mason
Matagorda .
Mavenck . .
Medina
ilenard
Midland....
.Milam
Mills
Area,
sq. miles.
880
300
870
010
500
640
900
960
900
820
980
900
960
260
720
710
100
900
900
910
180
940
800
880
480
900
680
900
960
970
000
940
460
750
200
840
870
900
970
000
880
840
.390
960
720
•too
730
800
620
840
100
360
900
700
900
900
010
800
460
000
1540
000
170
960
900
100
900
900
900
900
000
040
200
450
420
900
960
150
320
270
880
900
000
640
Fop.
1890,
10,586
6,481
15,987
3,112
68
31,476
14
7,028
208
5,910
18,016
203
,53,211
9.402
21.3J2
15,217
721
703
9,279
133
3,904
3,956
37,249
26,721
252
1,665
11,352
519
12,285
6,534
27,583
7,581
20,572
19,360
1,210
31,885
58
870
9,740
3,281
5,.592
1,394
5,857
22,313
3,797
3,637
21,598
3,809
324
4,445
2,234
173
3,781
1,134
37,302
4
7,565
2,139
21,887
11,952
13,841
4,230
21.678
632
2,055
6,759
3
33
24
3,205
39,204
1,038
8,512
10,862
264
5,168
3,985
3.698
5,730
1,207
1,033
24,773
5.480
Pop.
1880.
9,380
5,280
14,921
2,130
8
24,121
36
5,228
5^832
14,840
56
38,108
8,530
18,603
12,202
36
6,365
18
50
1,870
27.985
25,177
100
48
7,555
149
9,735
4,347
16,554
6,125
15,461
16.702
50
17,230
50
6,626
2,723
5,779
'3.489
17.911
.546
3,270
15,448
2,763
92
2,168
1,343
40
4,487
77
27,193
5,42i
789
13,641
8.937
12,817
4.999
16,246
69
1.994
4.962
25
9
1,533
26,934
701
5.395
10,983
12
2,655
3,940
2,967
4,492
1.239
18,659
1488
THALLOGENOUS PLANTS — THAN N.
4EKA AND POPULATION — Continued.
1
Mitchell
Montague
Mcntgbmerj- . . .
Moore
Morris
Motley
Nacogdoches . . .
Navarro
Newton
Nolan
Nueces
Ochiltree
Oldham ,
Orange ;
Palo Pinto
Panola
Parker
Parmer
Pecos
Polk
Potter
Presidio
Rains
Randall
Red River
Reeves
Refugio
Roberts
Robertson
Rockwall
Runnels
Rusk
Sabine
San Augustine .
San Jacinto
Ssn Patricio ...
San Saba
Schleicher ^
Scurry
Shackelford
Shelby
Sherman
Smith
Somervell
Starr
Stephens
Stonewall
Sutton
Swisher
Tarrant
Tarlor
Terry
Throckmorton .
Titus
Tom Green
Travis
Trinitv
Tyler!
Upshur
Upton
Uvalde
Val Verde
Van Zandt
Victoria
Walker
Waller
Ward
Washington
Webb
Wharton
Wheeler
Wichita
Wilbarger
Williamson
Wilson
Winkler
Wise
Wood
Yoakum
Young
Zapata
Zavalla
900
890
1.100
900
260
1,080
960
1.020
970
900
2.432
900
1.+60
390
960
800
900
850
6,700
1.200
9O0
3,470
270
900
1,060
2.390
760
900
850
150
910
930
580
560
640
930
1,180
1,500
900
900
800
900
930
200
2.570
900
900
1,620
900
900
900
900
900
400
2,940
1,040
710
930
520
1,140
1.420
2.880
840
850
740
500
1.160
600
1,680
1.100
900
600
940
1,070
800
900
700
Pop.
189a
840
900
1,370
1,200
2.059
18,863
11,765
15
6,580
139
15,984
26,373
4,650
1.573
8.093
198
270
4,770
8,320
14,328
21,682
7
1,326
10,.^S2
849
1.698
3,909
187
21,452
1,247
1,239
326
26.506
5.972
3,182
18.559
4,969
6.688
7.360
1,312
6,621
155
1.415
2,012
14,365
71
28.324
3,411
10.052
4.926
1,024
658
100
41,142
6.946
21
902
8,190
5.152
37,019
7.648
10.877
12,695
52
3.804
2.874
16.225
8,737
12.874
10,888
77
29.161
16,564
7.584
n%
4,831
7,092
25.878
10,655
18
24,134
13.932
4
5,049
3,562
1,097
Pop.
lEBO.
117
11,257
10,154
' 5,032
24
11,590
21,702
4,359
640
7,673
Governors of Texas. The following is a com-
plete list of the governors of the state, with the
periods and dates of service :
PEOVISIONAL GOVERKOK BEFORE THE DECLAHATIOS OF INDB-
FEXDESCE OF MEXICAN CONTEOL.
Henry Smith, 1835-36.
PRESIDENTS UNDER THE KEPtTBLIC.
David G. Burnet, 1836-36.
Sam Houston. 1836-38.
Mirabeau B. Lamar, 1838-40.
David J. Burnet, 1840-41.
Sam Houston, 1841-44.
Anson Jones, 1844-46.
GOVERNORS OF THE STATE.
287
2,938
5,885
12.219
15,870
1,807
7,189
28
2,873
3,035
3
17.194
1,585
32
22,383
2,984
980
18,986
4,161
5,084
6.186
1,010
5,324
"i62
2,037
9,523
21^863
2,649
8,304
4,725
104
4
24.671
1,736
5.959
3.615
27,028
4.915
5,825
10,266
2,541
12,619
6,289
12.024
9,024
27,565
5,273
4,549
512
433
126
15,155
7,118
ib^eoi
11,212
4,726
3,636
410
J. W. Throckmorton. 1866-67
Edward M. Pease, 1S67-70.
Edmund J. Davis. 1870-74.
Richard Coke, 1874 76.
Richard Hubbard, 1870-79.
Oram M. Roberts, 1879-83.
John Ireland. 1883 87.
Lawrence S. Ross. 1887-9L
James S. Hogg, 1891-93.
J. P. Henderson. 1846-47.
Geo. T. Wood, 1847-49.
P. Hansboroueh Bell. 1849-53
Edward M. Pease, 1853-57.
H. G. Runnels, 1857-59.
Sam Houston, 1859-61.
Edward Clark, 1861-61.
Francis B. Lubboclt,1861-63.
Pendleton Murraj-, 1863-65.
A. J. Hamilton, 1865-66.
The governor's salary is $4,000.
Brief Historic Chronology. De La Salle, a
Frenchman, landed at Matagorda Bay in 1d87, and
erected Fort St. Louis. He was soon after murdered
by some of his own men, and his colony failed.
Capt. Alonzo de Leon, a Spaniard, established a
mission and trading post on the site of the fort in
1690. This settlement was also abandoned. In
1714 Capt. de St. Denis succeeded in establishing
three missions on the Rio Grande. In 1735 a
French colony was established on Red River,
against the protest of the Spaniards After the
Louisiana purchase by the United States a contro-
versy with respect to the boundary line took place
with Texas, Spain claiming laud east of the Sabine
River, and the United States claiming the land
west of the Rio Grande. In the treaty of ISIO, in
which Spain ceded Florida to the United States,
the latter guaranteed to Spain her territory west of
the Rio Grande. Mexico became independent of
Spain in 1820. The Texan war with Mexico began
I Oct. 2, 183.5, and, on Nov. 12, 1835, a provisional
government was formed. Several bloody battles
followed. On March 17th the Texans adopted a
republican constitution, and elected David G.
Burnet president of the Republic of Texas. The
decisive battle was fought at San Jacinto. April
21st, Gen. Sam Houston leading the Texans to
success. The United States acknowledged the
independence of Texas in March, 1837. Annexa-
tion of Texas to the United States was voted by
Congress, Dec. 27, 184.5, and accepted bv Texas,
Feb^ 19, 1846. Texas followed the rest of the
South in the Civil War of 1860-65. In March,
1870, Texas was formally restored to the Union.
In February. 1876, a new state constitution was
adopteil.
Progress of population in Texas bv decades: In
1850,212,592; 1860,604.215: 1870,818,579; 1880,
1,-591,749 ; 1890, 2,235,523.
For numerous otlier items of interest relating to
Texas, see the article United States in these
Revisions and Additions.
THALLOGENOUS PLANTS, those acotyle-
donous plants which exhibit the greatest simplic-
ity of structure, consisting of a mere thalius with
reproductive organs. Of this description are
Algce, Characece. Fungi and Lichens.
THANN, a town of Alsace, in the former
French department of Haut-Rhin. prettily situ-
ated at the foot of a hill, crowned by the riiins of
T H E O L 0 (} I C A L SEMINARIES.
1481'
the castle of Engelburg, thirteen miles northwest
of Mulhouse. It contains a superb Gothic church,
surmounted by a spire of delicatt> open work up-
ward of 300 ieet high. Cotton cloths, chemicals
and machinery are manufactured. Population in
1871, 8,052.
THEOLOGICAL SEMINARIES IN THE
UNITED STATES. According to the latest re-
port of the U. S. commissioner of education the
theological schools in the United States were, in
1887, as follows:
Rkligiocs Dbnomixations.
No. of
Schools.
Baptist
Free Baptist
Roman Catholic
Lutheran
Methodist Episcopal
M^thodiiit Protestant
Methodist Eniscopa'. South.
Qennan iletnodist Episcopal
Wcslevan Methodist
"Pfesbytcrian
Cumberland Presbyterian . . .
United Presbyterian
Reformed Presbyterian
Protestant Episcopal
Congregational
Universalist
Unitarian
Christian
Reformed
Reformed ( Dutch)
Associate Reformed
Fnsectarian
United Brethren
Jewish
E.rangeiical Association
German Evangelical
Total
19
2
17
17
16
2
2
1
1
14
1
12
11
3
1
6
5
1
1
4
2
1
1
1
145
No. of In
structore.
107
11
150
69
107
10
20
3
5
81
19
19
3
68
66
18
15
6
6
30
9
9
4
3
867
No.of Stu-
dents
1,014
78
663
1,057
645
26
207
39
20
749
327
65
22
286
378
61
30
236
73
22
152
65
9
82
6,306
In the following list we give the names and
locations of these schools, together with the dates
of their organizations.
The Baptist Theological Schools are (The
dates tell when, founded):
1. Hamilton Theological Seminary, at Hamil-
ton, N. T., 1820.
2. Newton Theological Institution, at Newton
Centre, Mass., 1825.
3. Kochester Theological Seminary, at Roches-
ter, N. Y., 1850.
4. The Southern Baptist Theological Seminary,
at Greenville, S. C, 1859.
5. The Baptist Union Theological Seminary, at
Morgan Park, HI., 1866.
6. The Atlanta Theological Seminary, at At-
lanta, Ga., 1867.
7. Richmond Theological Seminary, at Rich-
mopfl, Va., 1867.
8. Crozer Theological Seminary, at Upland,
Delaware countv. Pa., 1867.
9. Shurtieff College, at Upper Alton, III., 1827.
10. Wavland Seminarv, at Washington, D. C,
1865.
11. Sh.aw University, at Raleigh, N. C , 1865.
12. Roeer Williams University, at Nashville,
Tenn., 18li.5.
13. William Jewell College, at Libertv. Mo.,
1868.
14. The Benedict Institute, at Columbia, S. C,
1871.
15. Jackson College, at Jackson, Mi.ss., 1877.
16. Indian Urrtversity, at Muskogee, Indian Tei
ritory, 1880.
17. The Selma University, at Selma, Ala., 187/ ,
18. Bishop College, at Marshall, Te.xas, 1881.
19. Leland University, at New Orleans, La.
FREE-W'ILL BAPTISTS.
1. Hillsdale College, at Hillsdale, Mich., 1852.
2. Bates College Theological Seminary, at Lew-
iston, Me., 1870.
ROMAN CATHOLIC THEOLOGICAL SCHOOLS.
1. Theological Department of St. Sulpice and
St. Mary's University, Baltimore, 1791.
2. Theological Department of Mount St. Mary's
College, Einmittsburg, Md., 1808
3. Theological Department of Viateur's Col-
lege, Bourboiinais Grove, 111.
4. St. Vincent Seminary, Germantown, Phila-
delphia, 1818.
5. Theological Seminary of St. Charles Bor-
romeo, at Overbrook, Pa., 1832.
6. St. Vincent's Theological Seminary, at Cape
Girardeau, Mo., 1843.
7. St. Mary's Theological Seminary, at Cleve-
land, Ohio, 1849.
8. St. Meinrad's Theological Seminary, at St.
Meinrad, Ind., 1854.
9. St. Joseph's Theological Seminary, at Troy,
N. Y., 1864.
10. St. Charles Borromeo Theological Seminary,
at Carthagena, Ohio, 1864.
11. Seminary of St. Francis of Sales, at St. Fran-
cis, Wis.. 1855.
12. Diocesan Seminary of the Immaculate Con-
ception, at South Orange, N. J., 1856.
13. College and Seminary of our Lady of Angels,
at Suspension Bridge, N. Y., 1856.
14. St. Bonaventure's Seminary, at Alleghany,
N. Y., 1859.
15. St. John's University, Collegeville, Minn., for-
merly St. John's Seminary, St. .foseph. Minn.. 1857.
16. Ecclesiastical Department of the Monastery
of St. Thomas Villanova, at Villanova, Pa., 1842,
17. Preston Park Theological Seminary, at
Louisville, Ky., 1870.
LUTHERAN THEOLOGICAL SEMINARIES.
1. The Theological Seminary of the general
Synod, at Gettysburg, Pa., 1826.
2. The Theological Seminary of the Synod of
Ohio, at Columbus, Ohio, 1830.
3. The Theological Seminary of the South, at
Newberry, S. C, 1830.
4. The Theological Seminary of the Evangel-
ical Lutheran Church, at Philadelphia, 1864.
5. Concordia Seminary, at St. Louis, Mo., 1830.
6. Wittenberg College, at Springfield, Ohio,
1845.
7. Wartburg Seminary, at Mendota, 111., 1856.
8. The Missionary Institute, at Sehnsgrove, Pa.,
1858.
9. Augustana Seminary, at Rock Island, HI.,
1860.
10. Hartwick Seminary, in Otsego county, N. T.,
1815.
11. Augsburg Seminary, at Minneapolis, Minn.,
1869.
12. Luther Seminary, at Madison, Wis., 1876.
13. The Evangelical Lutheran Theological Sem-
inary, at Milwaukee, Wis., 1878.
1490
THEOLOGICAL SEMINARIES.
14. The Ked Wiug, at Red Wins, Miun.
15. The Theological Seuiiuary at Alton, Minn.,
1881.
16. Concordia College, at Conover, N. C, 1883.
17. The Theological Seminary at Saginaw,
Mich.
METHOBIST EPISCOPAL .SEM INAEIE.S.
1. De Pauw University, at Greencastle, Ind.,
1837.
2. The Theological Department of Boston Uni-
ver.sity, at Boston, Mass., 1870.
3. (iarrett Biblical Institute, at Evanston, 111.,
1856.
4. Wallace College (Gorman), at Berea, Ohio,
1864.
5. Central Tennessee C^ollege, at Xa.shville,
Tenn., 1866.
6. The Gilbert-Haven School of Theology, at
New Orleans, La., 1866.
7. Tlie Drew Theological Seminary, at Madi-
son, N. J., 1867.
8. The Centenary Hiblical Institute, at Balti-
more, Md., 1867.
9. The German-Ent;iish College, at Galena,
111., 1868.
10. A Swedish Theological Seminary, at Evans-
ton, 111., 1870.
11. A German College, at Mount Pleasant, Iowa.
1873.
12. The Gammon School of Theology of Ckirk
University, at Atlanta, Ga., 1883.
13. Mckendree College, at Lebanon, 111.
14. Central Wesleyan College (German), at
Warrenton, Mo., 1864.
15. Vanderbilt University, at Nashville, Tenn.,
1872.
16. Trinity College of il. E. Chnrch South.
17. Wilberforce University (African), eit Wilber-
force, Ohio, 1853.
18. Livingstone College (African), at Salisbury,
N. C.
WESLETAN METHODIST SCHOOL.
The Wheaton Theological Seminary, at Whea-
ton, 111., 1881.
PRESBYTERIAN THEOLOGICAL SEMINAEIE.S.
1. Princeton Theological Seminary, at Prince-
ton, N. J., 1812.
2. Union Theological Seminary, at Hampden
Sidney College, Va., 1812.
3. Auburn Theological Seminary, at Auburn,
N. Y., 1819.
4. The Western Theological Seminary, at Al-
leghany, Pa., 1827.
5. Lane Theological Seminary, at Cincinnati,
Ohio, 1829.
6. Union Theological Seminary, at New York
city, 1836.
7. Danville Theological Seminary, at Danville,
Ky., 18.53.
8. The German Theological Seminary of the
Northwest, at Dubuque, Iowa, 1852.
9. The McCorniirk Theological Seminary, No.
1060 N. lialsted St., Chicago, 111., 1856.
10. The German Theological Seminary of New-
ark, at Bloomtield, N. J., 1868.
11. San Francisco Theological Seminary, at San
Francisco, Cal., 1871.
12. Biddle University, for cilored .students, at
Charlotte, N. C, 1868. '
13. Lincoln University, near Oxford, Pu., 1S71.
14. An Institute for Training Colored Ministers,
at Tuscaloosa, Ala , 1877.
CrilBERLAND PRESBYTERIANS.
1. The Cumberland University, at Lebanon,
Tenn., 1852.
2. Trinity University, at Tehuacana, Texas,
1871.
UNITED PRESBYTERIANS.
1. The U. P. Theological Seminary, at Xenia,
Ohio, 1860.
2. The Theological Seminary of the U. P.
Church, at Alleghany City, Pa., 1825.
PROTESTANT EPI.SCOPAL SEMINARIES.
1. The General Theological Seminary, in New
York City, 1819.
2. The Prot. E. Theological Seminary o^ Vir-
ginia, near Alexandria, Va., 1823. i
3. The Theological Seminary of the P. E.
Church in the Diocese of Ohio, at Gambler, Ohio,
1824.
4. The Episcopal Theological School of Mas-
sachu-setts, at Cambridge, 1867.
5. The Kansas Theological School, at Topeka,
Kans., 1874.
6. The Berkeley Divinity School, at Middle-
town, Conn., 1850.
7. The Seaburv Divinity School, at Faribault,
Alinn., 1860.
8 St. Andrew's Divinity School, at Syracuse,
N. Y., 1876.
9. The Divinity School of the P. E. Church, in
Philadelphia, Pa., 1862.
10. Griswold College, at Davenport, Iowa, 1859.
11. The Theological Department of the Uni-
versity of the South, at Suwanee, Tenn., 18.56.
12. Wheeler Hall, Chicago, 111., 1885.
CONGREGATIONAL THEOLO(;i('AL SEMINARIES.
1. Andover Theological Seminary, at Ando\ er,
Mass., 1808.
2. Bangor Theological Seminary, at Bangor.
Me., 1819.
3. Yale Theological Seminary (department of
Yale University), New Haven, Conn., 1755.
4. The Theological Institute of Connecticut, at
Hartford, Conn., 1834.
5. Oberlin Theological Seminary (department
of Olierlin College), at Oberlin. Ohio, 1834.
(). The Chicago Theological Seminary, at
Chicago, III,, 18.54.
7. The Pacific Theological Seminary, at Oak-
land, Cal., 1869.
8. Fisk University, at Nashville, Tenn., 1869.
9. Straight University, at New Orleans, La.,
1869.
10. Talladega College, at Talledaga, Ala.,
1869.
11 The German Theological Seminary, at Crete,
Neb., 1878.
UNIVEKSALIST SCHOOLS.
1. Canton Theological School, at Canton, N. Y.,
1858.
2. Divinity School of Tufts College, at College
Hill, Mass., 1869.
3. Theological Department of Londiard Uni-
versity, at Galesburg, 111., 1881.
T H E 0 S O P II Y — T ir E 1{ M I • .M E T E R .
1491
A rXITAKIAX SEMIXAEV.
The Meadville Theological Scliool. ;it Meatlville.
Pa . 1S«.
t HRISTIAX (niSCirLES OF CHRIST) SCHOOLS.
1. Eureka College. Eureka, lil.. ISo.').
-. Oskaloosa College. Oskaloosa. Iowa. 1S56.
•!. The Christian Bihlieal Institute, at Stauford-
ville. X. y.. 1S69.
4. The College of the Bihle. at Lexington. Kv.,
isr..-,.
•'). Drake University, at De.s Moines, Iowa, 1881.
6. Fniou Christian College, at -Meroiu. Ind..
1SI2.
REFORMED (GERMAN" AXD DCTCH) THEOLOGICAL
SCHOOLS.
1. The Theological .Seminary of the Reformed
Church, at Lancaster, Pa., 187i.
2. Heidelberg Theological .Seminary, at Tiffin,
Ohio, 1851.
3. Mission House, at Franklin. Wis., 1860.
4. Ursinus College, at Freeland. Pa.. 1870.
5. Dutch Reformed School of Rutgers College,
at New Brunswick. N. .).. 1810.
6. The Western Seminary, at Holland, Mich.,
1S66.
The United Brethren (in Christ) have a
Union Biblical Seminary, at Davton, Ohio, since
1881; and
The United Brethren, otherwise called
Moravians, have a Theological Seminarv, at
Bethlehem, Pa., 1838.
The S^edenborgians have a Theological
School, at Walthani. Mass., since 1866; and
The Jews have the Hebrew Union College, at
Cincinnati, Ohio, since 1875.
Un'denomtnatiunal is the Theological Depart-
ment of the Howard University, at Washington,
D. C, opened 1870.
METHODIST PROTESTANT SEMINARIES.
1. The Theological Department of Adrian Col-
lege, Mich., opened 1878: and
2. Westminster The-ological Seminary, at West-
minster, Md., opened 1882.
THEOSOPHY. an assumed knowledge of things
divine, directly obtained from God through spir-
itual intercommunion. It claims a special insight
into the divine nature. While mysticism and other
theological doctrines start from known phenomena
and deduce therefrom certain conclusions concern-
ing God, theosophy, on the other hand, starts with
a supposed or pretended insight into the nature of
Ood, directly revealed to its adherents, and es-
]>lains from this standpoint the phenomena of the
i.uter world. We find claims of such direct inspira-
tion among the Hindus, Persians, Arabs, Greeks
(the later Neo-Platonists). Jews (the Cabbalists).
and Christians. It was widely proclaimed in the
twelfth century, ami held to in some form by many
so-called Christians. In later times we had Para-
ceisns, Jacob Boehnie, Schelling, Franz von Baader
and others (about these see the article Theosopht
in Britannica, Vol. XXIII, pp. 278-9).
The Theosophical Society of Xew York was
started in 1877 by Madame Helene P. Blavatsky
(nee Hahn), born in St. Petersburg, Russia. She
was married to a man named Blavatsky while she
was a school-girl, but left her husband a few weeks
afterward. She came to New York about 1873,
after she had traveled widely, as she claimed, from
1850 till 1870, among the priests in the East who
professed to hold, and eventually revealed to her.
the secret of theosophy. In Xew York City she
joined Col. Henry S. Olcott, a former spiritualist
and successful lawyer; with his assistance she
founded the Theosophical Society of Xew York.
Wilham Q. Judge, who was for years before that
time a mystic, .joined the two partners in 1877.
Blavatsky performed some things which are said
to be wonderful. Gen. Abner A. Doubledav.
U.S.A.; Charles Lotheran, the journalist: Mitchell,
of the Xew York '• Sun : " Curtis, of the Xew York
■•World;" Prof. Alexander Wi'der, the anthro-
pologist; Donovan, the sculptor; half a dozen
Catholic priests, and a score of other well-educated
people, are ready to-day to testify to certain won-
derful happenings in the flat occupied by Mme.
I Blavatsky and Col. Olcott. These people assert
j that Blavatsky's performances there transcended
j all the recognized laws of nature. No one present
could explain the phenomena displayed before his
eyes. Newspaper articles attracted the attention
of the whole country to her doings, especially in
j 1878, when her society became an accomplished
j fact.
; A curious thing about Mme. Blavatsky was the
fact that she would look old one day and young
the nest. Nobody knew her exact age. But
sometimes in the forenoons she appeared like a
woman of seventy, while in the evenings she never
looked older than thirty-five.
It is said that the Theosophical Society num-
bered about 2.000 members in the United States,
in May, 1891. and it is al.so said that these mem-
bers are admitted for money, and that the society
is kept alive by means of dues and compulsory
subscriptions.
In 1879 Mme. Blavatsky broke up her house-
hold and started for India to revive theosophy
among the Hindus. Some respectable people iii
India accused her of imposture. Dr. Hodgson
had been sent out some years previous by the
London Society for Psychic Research. He spent
three months in finding out whether Mme. Blavat-
sky was a humbug or not. Information obtained
from her housekeeper with regard to evident im-
postures convinced him that she was a humbug,
and he .'Stated so publicly. Upon this the woman
left India and turned up in London, England,
where she was instrumental in reviving theosophy
considerably. Being a woman of very unusual
education, .she succeeded in convincing people who
did not belief in supernaturalism that she had
powers which they wer,e unable to explain, and
her system of wonderful performances or displays
she called theosophy. She died iu London. Mav
8. 1891.
THERAPIA, or Tarapia. a village of Euro-
pean Turkey, province of Rumili. situated on the
Bo.sporus. twenty-one miles northeast of Constan-
tinople, at the head of a large and beautiful bay
of the .same name. It is one of the most charm-
ingly picturesque spots in the neighborhood of the
Turkish capita!, and all summer has a climate
deliciously cool. Therapia is the residence of the
French and English embassies, and many of the
Frankish merchants have villas here.
THERMOMETER. See Britannica. Vol. XXII,
pp. 2SS-293.
1492
T H E R S I T E S — T H R 0 W ,
THERSITES, son of Agrius, whom Homer, in
the Iliad, makes the ugliest and most impudent
talker of the Greeks before Troy. His name in
antiquity was a synonym for dastardly and malevo-
lent impudence. The later poets say that he was
slain by Achilles for c.ilunmiating him.
THESSALONIANS, Epistles to the. See
Britannica, Vol. XXII, pp. 297-298.
THIRTY TYRANTS OF THE ROMAN EM-
PIRE, the collective title given to a set of military
usurpers who sprung up in different parts of the
empire during the fifteen yeans (a.d. 253-268) oc-
cupied by the reigns of Valerian and Gallienus,
and amid the wretched confusions of the time, en-
deavored tr establish themselves as independent
princes. The name is borrowed from the Thirty Ty-
rants at Athens, but in rjality historians can only
reckon nineteen.
THOLEN, an island in the Netherlands, prov-
ince of Zeeland, bounded ^n the south by the
Easter Scheldt. It contains about .34,000 acres of
rich land, and is defended from floods by strong
dykes, whose borders are planted with trees.
Population, 14,078. Wheat, rye, barley, oats,
beans and potatoes are extensively grown. The
annual produce of madder reaches a million of
pounds weight, and of fla.x, 400,000. Hor.ses,
cattle, sheep and swine are kept in large num-
bers. Tliolen, the chief town, with a population
of 2,540, is situated in the southeast corner of the
island.
THOMAS, Ormsby B., member of Congress,
bern in Vermont in 1832. He removed to Wiscon-
sin in childhood, was admitted to the bar in 1856;
was a member of the Wisconsin A.ssembly in 1862,
1865 and 1867, of th(! state Senate in 1880-81, and
member of Congress from 1885 to 1891.
THOMAS, William L., born in 1830. In early
life he studied engraving in Paris and Rome, under
his brother, the late Mr. G. H. Thomas. He vis-
ited America and started the first illustrated
American paper. On returning to England he
entered into business as a wood-engraver. In 1869
the " Graphic " was launched under Mr. Thomas'
direction, and he is managing director and art
editor of it. He is a member of the Royal Insti-
tute of Painters in Water Colors. The foundation
of the " Daily Graphic," under the artistic man-
agement of Mr. Thomas, took place in 1890.
THOMASTON, a town and port of JIaiue, ou the
St. George River^ fifteen miles from the coast, and
eighty miles northeast of Portland. Its extensive
granite quarries are worked by the conxicts of the
state prison ; 300,000 casks of lime are exported
annually. There are five churches and two public
libraries. Population in 1870, 3,092.
THOMPSON, Albert, member of Congress,
born at Brookville, Pa , Jan. 23, 1842. He studied
law, was admitted to tbe bar in 1864, and has since
practiced; was elected probate judge of Scioto
county, Ohio, in 1869; was elected couuuon pleas
judge cf the Seventh Judicial District of Ohio in
1881; served in the Union aimy as a lieutenant of
volunteers; was promoted to captain, and served
until 1803, when he was discharged for wounds
received in battle; was a metnber of Congress from
1885 to 1891.
THOMSON, Sir William, was bnrn at Bel-
fast in 1824. Ho was educated at Glasgow and
Cambridge, where he graduated as second wrang-
ler, and was elected to a fellowship. He was ap-
pointed professor of natural philosophy in the
University of Glasgow in 1846. Was editor of the
" Cambridge and Dublin Mathematical Journal "
in 1846, to which he contributed valuable addi-
tions to the mathematical theory of electricity. It
is in connection with submarine telegraphy that
Sir William Thomson's labors in electrical
science are best known. He has also made im-
portant additions to the science of magnetism.
His mathematical insight is seen to the greatest
advantage in his investigation of the nature of
heat. He was made president of the British
Association in 1871; and was knighted in 1866.
He is joint author with Profes.sor Tait of the well-
known treatise on Natural Philosophy. He was
created grand otfieier of the Legion d'Honneur
in 1889.
THORN, Conference of. One of those eflbrts-
to explain away the differences between the sev-
eral bodies of Christians, with a view to religious
reunion, of which the seventeenth century furnishes
more than one example. The originator of this
movement was the king of Poland, Ladislaus IV.,
who proposed his project for the consideration of a
synod of the bishops of his kingdom, held at War-
saw in 1643. The conference met in October,
1645, and was opened in a spirit of moderation;
but it soon lapsed into disputation and contro-
versy, and at length broke up without any result.
Nov. 21, 1645.
THORN-APPLE (Datura), a genus of plants of
the natural order Sotanaceee, having a tubular flve-
cleft calyx, a large funnel-shaped five-lobed flower^
a two-laminated stigma, and an imperfectly four-
celled, prickly, or unarmed capsule. The species
of this genus are annual herbaceous plants, rarely
shrubs or trees; and are in general very narcotic,
and productive of excitement or deiirium. The
common Thorn-apple, or Jamestown Weed (Z).
stramonium), is an annual plant, with smooth stem
and leaves, white flowers, and erect prickly cap-
sules, a native of the East Indies, brought by the
gypsies to Europe, where it is now very generally
to be met with, as also in Asia, the north of Africa,
and North America. It contains a peculiar nar-
cotic alkaloid, cluturine, and is one of the most
powerful narcotic acrid poisons; but its leaves and
seeds are emploved, although rarely, in medicine.
THREE KINGS, Feast of the, a famous
mediipval festival, identical with Epiphani/ or
Twelfth Night, and designed to commemorate the
visit of the three magi or wise men of the East
(transformed by the mingled ignorance and rever-
ence of the middle ages into great kings) to the
infant Savior. But the name is more particularly
given to a kind of dramatic or spectacular repre-
.sentation of the incidents recorded in the secimd
chapter of Matthew — as, the appearance of the
wise men in splendid pomp at the court of Herod,
the miraculous star, the manger at Bethlehem, the
solemn and costly worship of the Babe — which
was long very popular. In 1336, a peculiarly
gorgeous representation was got up at Milan by
the Preaching Friars.
THREE RIVERS, a town of Michigan, in St.
Joseph county. It has an extensive water power,
and produces a variety of manufactures. Popula-
tion in 1890, 3,122.
THROW, the term applied in mining to the
T H U N I) E R I N (r L E G I 0 N — T I L B U R Y FORT,
1493
amount of dislocation in a vertical direction, pro-
duced by a fault in the strata.
THrNUEKIXC4 LEGION, The, a legion of the
Roman army which is the subject of a well-known
miraculous legend, stating that, during Marcus
Aurelius' war with the Marcouianni (A. D. 174).
his army was supplied with water in auswer to the
prayer of Christian soldiers; this rain being also
turned upon the enemy in the sliape of a fearful
thunder-storm, under cover of which the Romans
attacked and utterly routed them.
THURIFER, the ministeiing attendant in the
Roman Catholic Church, at solemn mass, vespers,
and other solemn ceremonies, whose duty it is to
carry the thuribh', m- incense-vessel, and either to
minister incense himself, or to present the thurible
to be used for that purpose by the officiating
priest. The office of thurifer is one of those which
belong to the so-called ■• Minor Order" o( Acolyte.
THURMAN, Allen G., an American states-
man, born in Virginia in 1813. He was admitted
to the bar in 18 i5; was judge of the Supreme
Court of Ohio, in 1851; was chief justice from 1854
to 185G; and United States senator from 1869 to
1881.
THURSDAY (Swed. Thorsdaij, Ger. Don-
nerstag), the fifth day of the week, so called from
Donar or Thor, who as god of the air, had much
in common with the Roman Jupiter, to whom the
sameday was dedicated (Lat. Jovisdeis, Rf. Jemli).
THURSTON, Sir Johx Bates, governor of
Fiji, high commissioner and consul-general for
the Western Pacitlc, born in 1836. He spent the
early part of his life at sea; became consul at
Fiji and Tonga in 1866, and acquired tlie confidence
and good-will of the native king and chiefs of
Fiji; was their "chosen and special" adviser to
confer with the British comraissioneis as to the
cession of Fiji; wascolonial secretary and auditor-
general of Fiji in 1874, and five years later became
the secretary to the high commissioner for the
Western Pacific. Has administered the govern-
ment on various occasions, and has been appointed
on several commissions requiring tact and knowl-
edge of the natives. He was governor of Fiji and
high commissioner in 1887.
THYMELEACEiE, a natural order of exogenous
plants, of which the Mezereon and Spurge Laurel
are familiar examples. This order consists chiefly
of shrubs, with a few herbaceous plants, and con-
tains about 300 species, natives chiefly of the warm
and temperate climates. Poisonous properties
prevail in the order. The bark is in general very
caustic, and that of some species is used as a
vesicatory, and for other medicinal purposes.
THYRSUS, in botany, a panicle, in which the
flower-stalks are short, and the flowers are thu.s
close together, so that the panicle is dense. It is a
very common form in inflorescence. The use of
the term is, however, somewhat vague.
TICHVIN,atown of Great Russia, in the govern-
ment of Novgorod, 468 miles southeast of St.
Petersburg, on the Tichvinka, which, together
with the canal of the same name, connects the
Volga with the Baltic. It contains numerous
churches, but is best known for its monastery,
which contains a " thanmaturgical," or miracle-
working machine of the Virgin. The inhabitants
are chiefly employed in the transit-trade by land
and water. Population, 6,387.
TICKING, a strong cloth used chiefly for making
beds, mattresses and paillasses. Formerly it was
always manufactured of linen, but cotton is now
largely used for this purpose. A very general
character of ticking is that it is woven in stripes
of two colors, blue and white.
TICONDEROGA, a town of New York. See
Britannica, Vol. XXIII, p. 352.
TIE, in music, an arch drawn over two notes on
the same degree, uniting them so that they are
played or sung in one single note of the same
value.
TIEL, the seat of an arrondissemeut in the
Netherlands, province of Gelderland, picturesquely
situated on the right bank of the Waal. The
fortifications have been demolished and formed
into beautiful walks. The principal buildings are
the town house, court house, chamber of trade
and the great Reformed Church of St. Martin.
Tiel has a good haven and large trade in agricult-
ural produce and cattle. In 1864,319 ships dis-
charged grain, earthenware, lime, wood, coal,
bricks, salt, etc. The principal industries are
copper founding, brick making, tanning, book
printing, paper making, beer brewing, etc. Pop-
ulation, 7,748.
TIEN-TE (celestial virtue), the name given to
the Tae Ping- Wang (king of universal peace), the
pretender to imperial authority in China, and the
head of the mighty insurrection which for sixteen
years convulsed that country. The insurrection
was under the direction of five chiefs, independent
of each other, but all acknowledging the supremacy
of Tien-te; and as, according to the plan of the
rebellion, China, after being delivered from its
Manchoo rulers, was to be divided among those
chiefs; each of then\ assumed beforehand the title
and insignia of " king."
TIERS £TAT (Fr. tliird estate), the third branch
of the French estates, which consisted of repre-
sentatives of the trading inhabitants of the towns,
and of the peasantry in the country. The tiers
etat played an important part in the opening scene
of the Revolution.
TIFFIN, a citv of Ohio. Population in 1890,
10,801. See Britannica, Vol. XXIII, p. 385.
TIGER-FLOWER (Tigridia pavonia), a plant of
the natural order Tridnceee, the only known species
of its genus, which is distinguished by the three
outer segments of the perianth being larger, and
by the filaments being united into a long cylinder.
It is a native of Mexico, but hardy enough to en-
dure the climate of Britain, and is much culti-
vated in flower gardens for the singularity and
great beauty of its flowers, which are, however,
very evanescent. The root is a scalv bulb.
TILBURY FORT, in Essex, situated on the
north bank of the Thames, opposite Gravesend.
OriginiiUy erected in the time of Henry VIII. as a
block-house, it was converted (1667) into a regular
fortificatiiui after the bold expedition of De Ruyter
into the Thames and Medway. It is of a rectangu-
lar form, built chiefly of brick, with a massive
stone portal, and is surrounded by a deep and
wide fosse, which can easily be filled with water.
Batteries of heavy ordnance are placed so as to
command the river and the reach below; there are
al.so piers for the landing of troops, stores, etc.
The b:inks of the Thames being here very flat,
the ground around the fort is during floods and
1494
TILESTONES — TITULAR.
high tides laid under water, and the atmosphere
of the place is in consequence far from salubrious.
TILESTONES, the uppermost group of the
Silurian period, consisting of a reddish, thin-
bedded, slightly micaceous sandstone, which in
some places attains a thickness of 1,000 feet. It |
is now ascertained that the fossils agree in great ,
part specifically, and in general character entirely, '
with those of the underlying Upper Ludlow
Rocks, and they are accordingly considered to lie
the newest group of the Upper Silurian division.
The Tilesiones are well seen at Kington in Here-
fordshire, and at Downton Castle near Ludlow,
where they are quarried for building purposes.
TILLETT, Benjamin, one of the leaders of the
great Dock Strike in England, and general secre-
tary of the Dock, Wharf, Riverside and General
Laborers' Union, born in Bristol in 1859. Before
he was eight he worked in a brickj'ard, and at
twelve served six months on a fishing-smack. He
was then apprenticed to a bootmaker, but ran
away and joined the navy, from which he was dis-
charged invalided after a .short .service. Aftersev-
eral voyages in merchant vessels he settled at the
docks, and gradually formed the Dockers' Union,
which has now some 23,000 members. He gave
valuable evidence before the Parliamentary Com-
mission on Pauper Immigration, and before the
Lords' Committee on the Sweating System. He is
a ready speaker, and during the strike showed
much talent in the organization of labor. Was in-
vited to speak at the Church Congress ot 1890,
but, owing to his not being a member of the Estab-
lished Church, he withdrew from the appointment.
TIMBREL (Spanish tamburil), a small musical
instrument, of the drum species, in use in ancient
times, which was carried in the hand, and was ap-
parently not unlike the modern tambourine, with
or without bells.
TIME, Standard, is explained in the article on
Horology in these Revisions and Additions.
TINCTURES, .solutions of vegetable and ani-
mal drugs, and sometimes of mineral substances
in spirituous liquids. Tiie spirit most commonly
employed is proof-spirit; sometimes rectified spirit
is used; and occasionally ether.
TINEID^. a family of small moths, the small-
est insects of the lepidopterous order. The body
is long and slender, the wings entire, often narrow,
mostly convoluted in repose. Many of them are
very brilliantly colored. Many deposit their egt;s
in animal sulistnuccs, on which the larvaj feed, mak-
ing cases for themselves out of the substance they
feed on. The clothes moths are a familiar ex-
ample.
TINKER'S ROOT (Triosteum perfoliatumj, a
shrubby plant of the natural order Caprifoliacvre,
a native of North America, the root of "which is
used as an emetic and mild cathartic. It derives
its name from Dr. Tinker, who first brought it into
notice.
TINNITUS AURIUM, the Latin translation of,
and the ordinary medical term for, ringing in the
ears. In most cases it is an unimportant .symp-
tom, depending on some local temporary affection
of the ear, or on some disturbance of the diges-
tive system with which the part of the brain,
fmni which the auditory nerve springs, sym])a-
thizes, or which excites the cerebral circulation;
but as it is .also a commrin symptom of organic
disease of the auditory nerve, it may indicate a
diuijieious condition, or may be a prelude to com-
plete deafness. Hence, although commonly of no
consequence, it isa symptom that, especially'if per-
manent, must be carefully watched.
TINOS, or Ting (anc. Ypwos), an i.sland in the
Grecian Archipelago, belonging to the group of
the Cyclades, and lying southeast of the island of
Andros, fifty-three miles oil' the coast of Bteotia.
It is eighteen miles long, eight miles in extreme
breadth, has an area of eighty-one square miles,
and a population of 21,171. The Tenians were
conspicuous among the ancient Greeks for their
industry, and they still maintain their preeminence
in that respect. The island is carefully cultivated,
well watered, has a dehghtful climate, and is very
productive in silk, wine, barley and fruits. Silk
gloves and stockings are manufactured; and the
inhabitants have made themselves famous as
workers in marble, which is found in the island.
In the modern town of Tinos, or St. Nicholas, is a
cathedral built of white marble, and famous as a
resort for pilgrims.
TINSEL OF THE FEU, in the law of Scotland,
an iriitancy or forfeiture of a feu-right caused by
the failure to pay the feu-duty for two whole years.
A statute of 1597 authorized, in such a case, the
superior to take steps to obtain a decree of declar-
ator that the feu was forfeited; but the vassal
might, any time before decree, purge the irritancy
by paying the arrear. Tinsel of the Superiority
is a similar remedy which a vassal has against the
superior who has not got himself infeft, so as to be
in a position to complete the vassal's title. lusuch
a case, the tenant may under the statute 1474,
charge the superior, that if he do not within forty
days obtain infeftment, he shall lose the tenant or
vassal for his (the superior's) lifetime, and thereby
all the casualties that may fall to the superior from
the act or delinquen'cy of such vas.sal.
TIREE, one of the Inner Hebrides, included in
Argyleshire, twenty miles northwest of lona. It
is thirteen miles long, and over six miles in extreme
breadth. The surface is low, rising in the north to
little more than twenty feet, and in the south to
about 400 feet above sea-level. The absence
of trees and .shrubs gives to the island a bleak
appearnnce. Upward of 5,000 acres are under
tillage, while 10,700 acres are in pasture or waste-
land. Some interest attaches to the island from
the number of Scandinavian forts which dot the
shores, and from the standing-stones, ruined
churches, and ancient graves which occur in the
interior. Population, in 1871, 2,834, who support
themselves by rearing cattle, fishing, and export-
ing poultry.
TIRNOVA, a town of European Turkey, in Bul-
garia, on the Jantra, thirty-five miles southeast of
Sistova. There are numerous mosques, churches,
and .synagogues; dyeing is carried on, and silk
and coarse cloth are manufactured. Population
variously stated at from 12,000 to 10,000.
TISANE, TisAN, or Ptisan, an infusion made
of certain herbs, leaves, or flowers, used as
tea for medicinal purposes. It is a very favorite
form of remc<ly in the domestic medicine of France.
TITUL.\R, one who enjoys the bare title of an
office, without the actual possession of that office.
Thus, the English kiuffs styled themselves kings
of France from the time of Henry IV. down to the
T I T U :? \' I L L E — T 0 X G A B A Y .
1495
Tear 1800; and previous to ihe recent changes in
Italy, the king of Sardinia, as well as the king of
Naples, was titular king of Jerusalem. In Eng-
lish Ecclesiastical Law, a titular is a person in-
vested with a title, in virtue of which he holds a
benefice, whether he performs its duties or not.
In the law of Scotland the term has received an-
other acceptation. There are many titular dig-
nities in the Roman Catholic Church; but the class
of them which is chiefly noticeable is that which has
grown out of the separation between the eastern
and western churches.
TirrsviLLE, a citv of Pennsylvania. Popu-
lation in 1S90. 8,073. See Vol. XXIII. p. 420, and
XVIII. p. 713.
TOAD. See Britannica, Vol. XXII, pp. 422-423.
TOAST, the name given to bread dried or
scorched before the fire. So early as the sixteenth
century toasted bread formed a favorite addition
to Enghsh drinks. Sack was drunk with toast.
and so was punch. The practice of drinking healths
is one so natural that it is impossible to say when
it began. Certain it is, however, that it received
an artificial development owing to the prevalence
of convivial habits in the seventeenth centiuT. It
became the custom to describe a woman whose
health was so drunk as herself " a toast. '' What-
ever may be the origin of the use of the word
" toast " in this sense, we now apply it not only to
any person, but also to any sentiment mentioned
with honor before drinking. The French have
adopted the word •' toast, " making it masculine
when applied to a man or a sentiment, but fem-
inine when applied to a woman.
TOCHER, in the law of Scotland, an ancient
name for the marriage-portion given by a father
on the marriage of his daughter. It is settled ac-
cording to the wish of the father, or as may be
agreed with the intended hu.sband of the daughter.
TOD (derivation unknown), a weight of wool,
now unused; it was fixed at twenty-eight pounds
avoirdupois in 1671.
TODDY, the name given in the East Indies to
the fermented juice of various pahns from which
arrack is distilled. The name has been adopted
in Britain for a mixture of whisky, sugar and hot
water, which fonns the national drink of Scotland
and Ireland.
TOLEDO, a citv of Ohio. Population in 1890,
81,434. See Britannica, Vol. XXIII, p. 436.
TOLSTOI, CorxT Ltof Xixolaivitch, usu-
ally called Count Leo Tolstoi, the most eminent
living Russian novelist: born in 1828, at Yasnaia
Pohana. in the government of Toula, where he
stUl lives. He entered the army at the age of
twenty-three, and served in the Caucasus and at
Sebastopol. He first made literary reputation by
his vivid sketches from Sebastopol. Leaving the
army soon after the close of the Crimean war, he
devoted himself to literature. His War and Peace,
a tale of the invasion of Russia by Napoleon in
1812, is regarded by Russians as his masterpiece:
but his Anna Karenina. which appeared in 1876,
is better appreciated abroad. Matthew Arnold re-
viewed it enthusiastically a few months before his
death; and George Meredith says that .\una, the
beautiful but unfaithful wife, who ends her guilty
passion by suicide, is the most perfectly depicted
female character in all fiction. Tl(e Cossacks is his
oniy other novel. He wrote much on education,
and published many .short tales and reminiscences
of childhood and youth. The last six years of his
life he has devoted to religious teaching. He
makes •' Resist not evil'' the keystone of the Chris-
tian faith, and insists that the literal interpreta-
tion of the Sermon on the Moimt is the only rule of
the Christian life. His religious views are set forth
in Christ's CUiistianity; Count Tolstoi married in
1861, and has nine children living. Published in
1889 My BeUgioti. Translations of his Kreutzer
Sonata appeared in 1890, and the views contained
therein on the social question were the subject of
much attention.
TOMAHAWK, a light war-hatchet of the North
American Indians The early ones were rudely
made of stone, ingeniously fastened to their handles
by animal sinews, or cords of skin. European
traders supplied hatchets of steel, the heads of
which were made hollow, for a tobacco-pipe; the
handle of ash, with the pith removed, being the
stem. These hatchets are used in the chase and
in battle, not only in close combat, but by being
thrown with a wonderful skill, so as always to
strike the object aimed at with the edge of the
instrument. Thehandlesare curiously ornamented.
In the figurative language of the Indians, to make
peace, is to bury the tomahawk; to make war, is to
dig it up.
TOMATO (Lycopersicum esculentum), a plant
of the natural order Solanacea, formerly ranked
in the genus Solanum, and known as S. Lycopersi-
cum. The genus Lycopersicum is distinguished
by a 5-6-parted calyx, a wheel-shaped, 5-6-cleft
corolla, five stamens, and a 2-3-celled berry with
hairy seeds. The tomato is an annual, from
2 to 6 feet in height, requiring support when
tall. The leaves are unequally pirmate, the
leaflets cut ; the flowers numerous, followed by
berries, whicli are various in shape and color —
generally red and yellow — in diflerent varieties.
The plant is a native of the tropical parts of
America, but is now much cultivated in all
parts of the world suitable for it, as the South
of Europe and the United States. The fruit is
much used for sauces, catsup, preserves, confec-
tioners- and pickles. The unripe fruit makes one of
the best of pickles. Tomatoes appear with almost
every dish in Italy. The use of them is rapidly
increasing in different countries.
TON, a suffix of frequent occurrence in the names
of Anglo-Saxon settlements It seems to be from
the same root as the Gothic tains, meaning a twig,
the Ang-Sax. tynan, to hedge, and the Ger. saun,
a hedge. Hence, a tun or ton was a place sur-
rounded by a hedge, or rudely fortified by a palisade.
Originally, it meant only a single homestead or farm,
and this use of it is still common in Scotland. In
modem English, in the form of toicn, it is applied to
a collection of houses.
TONGA BAY, a small inlet on the east coast of
Africa, bounded on the north by Cape Delgado,
and extending inland in a north direction. Cocoa-
nut trees and jungle line the shores of the bay, and
at its head is the village of Tonga, important from
its frontier position. Cape Delgado was the north-
ern limit of the Portuguese colonial possession of
Mozambique: and the village of Tonga, which is
situated north of the parallel of latitude of the Cape,
was long possessed by the seyyid of Zanzibar. In
1887 it was forcibly occupied by the Portuguese.
1496
TONGA — TORNADOES.
TONGA, Kingdom of. For general article on
Tonga, see Friendly Isles in Britannica. The
Tonga Archipelago includes three adjaciait groups
of Islands, namely, Tonga, Haapai and Vavau; ]
total area, 374 square miles; population, about
21,000, including 400 foreigners. Present king,
George Tubau. The heir presumptive is Tanpa
Hau, great-grandson of the king. There is a
legislative assembly, composed one-half of nobles
nominated by the king, and the other half of rep-
resentatives elected by the people.
TONICITY, Muscular. The contractility of
muscles shows itself under two distinct forms —
IrritahUity and Tonicity, which are alike distinct
in the mode of their action and in the conditions
requisite for their exhibition. Irritability is most
manifest in the voluntary muscles and in the
heart, which, when in activity, exhibit powerful
contractions, alternating with relaxation; while
Tonicity is shown in a moderate and permanent
contraction, which, instead of being consequent
upon stimulation through the nerves, as in irri-
tability, is especially excited by change of temper-
ature in the tissue itself, and is mainly shown in
the involuntary or nonstriated muscles.
TONQUIN. " For general article on Tonquin, see
Britannica, Vol. XXIII, pp. 439-443. The terri-
tory was annexed to France in 1884. It is divided
into fourteen provinces, with 8,000 villages, and a
population estimated at 9,000,000. There are
400,000 Roman Catholics. Chief town, Hanoi, an
agglomeration of many villages, with a population
of 1.50,000. Revenue (1888) of Tonquin and Annam
17,321,000 francs, expenditure 17,034,620 francs.
There were 11,475 French troops in 1889, besides
6,500 native soldiers. The chief cultures are rice,
sugar-cane, silk-tree, cotton and various fruit trees
and tobacco. There are copper and iron mines of
good quality. The chief industries are silk, cotton,
sugar, pepper and oils. The imports were valued
in 1888 at 23,881,012 francs, and the exports at
6,988,249 francs. The expenditure of France for
Annam and Tonquin in the budget of 1891 was
10,450,000 francs.
TOOMBUDRA (correctly, Tunga-Bhadro), an
important tributary of the Kistnah or Krishna,
rising in the southwest of Maisur (Mysore), and,
after a northeast course of from 350 to 400 miles,
Joining the Kistnah twenty-five miles below
Karnul.
TOON, or TooNA (Cedrela Toona), a tree of the
natural order CedrelacefP, one of the largest timber
trees of India. Dr. Hooker measured one which
was thirty feet in girth at five feet above the ground.
The leaves are pinnate, the flowers small, in
panicles, with a honey-like smell, the petals erect,
and approaching each other so as to form a sort of
tube. The tree ascends to the height of 4,000 feet
on the Himalaya Mountains, and is found to the
furthest south of the East Indies. It is sometimes
called Bastard Cedar. The wood is soft, but is
used for furniture. The bark is a powerful astrin-
gent, and is used in dysentery, diarrhoea, etc.
TOP, in a ship, the platform at the head of each
lower-mast. It is supported on the trestle-trees
and cross-trees, and serves to give a wider base to
the top-mast shrouds. It is also used for working
the upper sails.
TOPE K A , a city of Kansas. Population in 1890,
31,007. See Britannica, Vol. XXIII, p. 446.
TOPHANE (correctly Top-haneh), a suburb of
Constantinople, forming a continuation of Galatea
along the northern shore of the Bosporus.
TOR (Celtic, " a projecting rock"), a word
" found in the names of Mount Taurus and the
Tors of Devonshire (Yes Tor, Brent Tor, etc.), and
Derbyshire (Mam Tor, Chee Tor, etc.) The higher
summits of the Tyr-(o\) are called Die Taiir-en."
TORGET, a small island oft" the northwest coast
of Norway. It serves as a landmark to sailors, is
the haunt of numerous water-fowl, but is chiefly
noteworthy for its lofty rock called Torghatten
(the Hat of Torget), which rises to the height of
756 feet above sea-level, and is pierced through,
near the top, by a cave or passage 80 feet wide and
1,300 feet long.
TORLONIA, a princely Roman family, remark-
able for their wealth, and for their extraordinarily
sudden rise from the very lowest condition. They
trace their origin to a poor " cicerone, " called
Giovanni Torlonia, born in 1754, who gained a rep-
utation in his profession, and became afterward an
agent of the French emissaries who were sent to
excite the Roman populace to revolution, and on
the failure of this project was left with considera-
ble funds in his hands; he afterward became a
merchant, gradually rising to the position of a
stock-broker, usurer, and money-dealer; and by
acquiring mortgages over the properties of the im-
poverished Roman princes, and by various other
ventures, amassed an immense fortune. He was
made a grandee of Spain, and duke of Bracciano
by the pope. His three sons have allied them-
selves with princely families of the highest rank.
TORNADOES and cyclones are both whirlwinds
of violent gyrations. In tlie tornado the move-
ment is principally vertical, and the ground area
of the storm is comparatively small. Tornadoes
range from the water spout of the ocean, and the
whirling sand-storm of the desert down to the lit-
tle dust-whirls which are so common in our streets.
Cyclones move with great velocity in a horizontal
direction, whereas, the horizontal motion of tor-
nadoes is slow. But their circular and upward
motion is very fast, so that their gyrations produce
funnels of water, sand, dust, etc., often of great
height. In the United States these whirling fun-
nels are sometimes seen pendent from a mass
of black clouds. Their whirling motion is always
from right to left, and often maintained for several
hours. Tornadoes generally arise just after the
hottest part of the day, when the atmosphere has
its greatest instability. The months of greatest
frequency are April, May, June and July. The
destructionin a tornado maybe caused either by the
surface wind, which is forced in on all sides to feed
the ascending current in the tornado-funnel, or by
the gyrating winds of the funnel itself when sufii-
ciently low to come within the reach of buildings
and trees. In the latter case no structure, how-
ever strongly built, is able to withstand the enor-
mous force of a good-sized tornado.
In the United States some 3,000 persons have
been killed, and as many injured, by these storms
(hiring the last century. The loss of property by
this destructive agency reaches scores of millions
of dollars. They occur most frequently in the
states bordering the northern Mississippi and the
lower Missouri. Here the warm and very moist
winds from the Gulf meet with currents of cold air
T OR NEA — TORPEDO WARFARE.
1497
from the north, and this produces very unstable at- j
tuospheric conditions. Tornadoes never occur
west of the one hundredth meridian. |
Gen. Greeley's list of destructive tornadoes is
given, in part, in the followinjj table, some of the
less destructive ones being omitted:
Date.
Persons
i
o
S
Statu.
1
Value of
Loss.
Mississippi
Mississippi
Connecticut
Missouri
Iowa
Mississippi
Wisconsin
Minnesota
Arkansas
North Carolina..
Dakota
Wisconsin
New Jersev
Ohio
Minnesota
Ohio
Kansas
May 7, 1840....
June 16, 1842..
Aug. 9, 1878...
April 18, 1880..
June 17, 1882..
April 22, 1883..
ilavl8, 1883...
Au!;. 21. 18a3 . .
Nov. 21, 1883..
Feb. lit, 1884 ..
Julv 28, 1884 . .
Sep't. 9, 1884.:.
Aus 3, 1885...
Sept. 8. 1885...
April 14, 1886..
Slav 12, 188C...
AprU21, 1887..
317
500
34
101
100
51
16
26
5
18
15
6
6
6
74
57
20
109
28
600
300
200
100
80
162
125
18
75
100
100
136
237
266
100
52
400
59
00
100
305
500
300
138
85
330
$1,260,000
2.600.666
1,000,000
1,000,000
300,000
175,000
700.000
300,000
4,600,666
500,000
500,000
385,000
1,006,666
Many of these tornadoes extended through sev-
eral states, that of April 14, 1886, for instance,
traveled 350 miles, from Council Blufls, Iowa, to
Sauk Rapids, Minn., which town it destroyed.
That of April 18, 1880, utterly wrecked the town of
Marshfield, Mo. Many other towns and villages
have been partly or wholly destroyed. The
forests of the Mississippi Valley often present great
lanes of broken-down and torn-up trees, indicat-
ing the tracks of tornadoes in the past. The At-
lantic States, while less frequently visited by this
destructive agent, are by no means exempt from
its visitations. Several examples given in the
above table were in the east, that of Aug. 3,
1885, passing through the city of Camden, N. J.,
where it made frightful havoc. A more recent
disaster of this kind was that of Jan. 9, 1889, in
which a violent tornado struck the city of Read-
ing, Pa., fortunately only on its outskirt, utterly
wrecking a silk-mill and a railroad paint-shop,
with a loss of twenty-four persons killed and
ninety-eight injured. An accompanying tornado
passed over Western Pennsylvania on the same
day, and did great damage in the oil-fields, tore
down the .suspension bridge at Niagara, and
wrecked an unfinished building at Pittsburgh,
with considerable loss of life.
TORNEA, a river, important as forming part of
the boundary line between Russia and Sweden.
It rises in Lake Tornea, in Sweden, and flows
southeast and south between Russia and Sweden,
entering the Gulf of Bothnia at its northern ex-
tremity, after a course of 250 miles. At its mouth
is the small town of Tornea.
TORNEA, a town in Finland, situated on the
peninsula of Svensar, at the mouth of the Tornea,
in the government of Uleaborg. The population,
which is about 800, is i)rincipally engaged in the
exchange-trade with the more northern and
scantily-inhabited districts of Finland and Sweden,
of which Tornea is the active center, as the most
northerly town in the Rus.sian Empire ; deals, salt-
fish, tar, hemp, reindeer skins and other peltries
being brought to Tornea to be exchanged for
tobacco, spirits, manufactured goods, etc. Tornea
is often visited in summer by travelers anxious to
witness the singular spectacle of the sun remain-
ing above the horizon both night and day at the
summer solstice. Tornea was several times taken
by the Russians from Sweden before its final ces-
sion at the peace of FrederikKlinran. in 1809, when
it was ceded, togetlier with the whole of Western
Finland, to Russia.
TORO, or ToRRo, an ancient but decayed town
of Spain, in the modern province of Zamora, stand-
ing on the right bank of the Douro, twenty-one
miles east of Zamora. It contains numerous re-
ligious houses, most of which have been allowed
to fall into a state of decay; and has brandy dis-
tilleries and brick and tile works. Population,
7,000.
TORONTO, a citv of Canada. Population in
1891, 181,200. See Britannica, Vol. XXIII,
pp. 447-49.
TORPEDO WARFARE. For general article
on torpedoes and the use of torpedoes in naval
warfare, see Britannica, Vol. XXIII, pp. 449-51.
It is only required that attention should here be
called to such new types of torpedoes as are now
engaging the attention of naval experts, and
which seem likely to prove of practical value here-
after.
In the United States, Secretary Tracy, of the
navy, appointed in 1891, a naval torpedo board
for experimenting with, and superintending the
construction of, such types, automobile or fish tor-
pedoes, as may give promise of fulfilling all the
requirements of the navy. The competitive tests
of the various patterns are to be made at New-
port, and hence that station, in this respect, prom-
ises for some time to be one of more than usual
interest. The development of torpedo appliance
in this country may be said to have just com-
menced.
Of explosives in general they all belong to one
of two classes — mechanical mixtures or chemical
compounds. Of the many kinds of high explosives
there are gun-cotton, dynamite No. 1, explosive
gelatine and forcite gelatine. But the vessels
from which it is proposed to send these to kill and
to destroy are of various patterns. The expendi-
ture of liberal appropriations, both in this country
and abroad, have resulted in a large series of ex-
periments, more or less successful, with air torpe-
does— including rockets and dynamite shells;
ground and buoyant mines: spar, towing and sub-
marine shells; controllable torpedoes, and auto-
matic, automobile and fish torpedoes. One of the
results is that all of the .ships which constitute the
cavalry of the sea, are fitted with torpedoes, and
also with torpedo nettings to i)rotect them from the
torpedoes of an enemy. And to-day we have tor-
pedo boats of the first and second classes, torpedo
dispatch vessels, torpedo cruisers, etc., and many
more about to be constructed. Those of the auto-
mobile type which have been extensively experi-
mented with are the Whitehead, the Brennan, the
one invented by Capt. John A. Howell of the navy,
the one invented by Lieutenant Hall of the navy,
the Sims-Edisim and the Patrick. There are sev-
1498
T 0 E P E D 0 W A 1! F A R E ,
eral others, but those mentioued have attained the
best results aud most prominence.
The Howell torpedo is one of the most complete
submarine, or autcunobile torpedoes yet perfected.
In fact it is considered the ideal torpedo, with a
capacity for a chari;e sufficient to insure the dis-
abling or anuihilation of the ship attacked, and
send every soul oa board before his Maker. It is
THE nOWEI.L TORPEDO.
self-contained, and so simple in itsmechanisui that
the ordinary enlisted men readily become familiar
with its mctliod of operation. It is ea.sy to repair
and overhaul without special tools or appliances —
although it is less liable than almost any of the
others to become disabled or get out of order; it
possesses a motive power easily applied and always
available, aud it is easily adapted for frequent ex-
ercises. In fact, it can be fitted and effectively
employed from every type of ship. The speed,
size, charge and accuracy of action are equal to
the best results that have been obtained with the
Whitehead torpedo. In fact, no other automatic
torpedo, of the same size, has reached so great a
speed. Its initial speed is now twenty-three
knots for the 8-foot pattern, weighing 325 pounds,
including seventy pounds of explosive, or greater
than that carried by any but the largest White-
head.
The general form of the Howell torpedo is that
of a spindle, the central portion being cylindrical.
The shell is constructed entirely of brass or bronze,
a material which is not corroded by contact with
sea water. Its characteristic feature is tlie heavy
fly-wheel by which it is propelled, and by which,
at the same time, it gives a directive force that
renders unnecessary any device for steering the
torpedo in the horizontal plane. The fly-wheel is
of steel and weighs about 130 pounds, and rotates
on frictioual wheels. It is geared to two shafts,
one on each side of the torpedo, which carry the
propellers; and when set to revolving at a consid-
erable speed it will continue to rotate for several
hours, if no additional load is applied. The pro-
pellers revolve in opposite directions, thus prevent-
ing the rolling motion of the torpedo. This forms
the whole driving mechanism of the torpedo, which
is, in principle, the same as that of the Whitehead.
To control the submersion recourse is had to a
horizontal rudder, which is operated automatically
by mechanism whose action is controlled by a com-
bined pendulum and hydro-pneumatic cylinder,
the piston of which moves with the varying ex-
ternal pressures at various depths. The discharg-
ing gear for sending the torpedo from the ship
toward the enemy, consists of a frame or derrick
extending from the ship's side, under which the
torpedo is hung by Clutches and studs on its shell.
The torpedo is so arranged that it can be con-
veniently slung from the deck, and on being de-
tached from the derrick, it does not dro]) vertically
into the water, but is swung outward in the arc of
a circle, being detached automatically by a check-
line and trigger on reaching the vertical below the
pivot. This gives it an impulse without changing
the angle of its longitudinal axis with the surface
of the water. The mechanical success of the
weapon seems assured. In the last lew years it
has been subjected to trial before several naval
boards, whose repm-ts .summed up maintain the
following elements of superiority for it over some
other types: It is a much cheaper weapon; for the
same size and weight it carries a heavier charge;
it does not pos.sess the element of danger contained
in the air Sash, thej-upture of which (by accident
or hostile shot) has already been .shown to be de-
structive to life and pi'operty; its track is not be-
trayed, in day-time and clear weather, by air
bubbles. The explo.sive charge, which is of gun-
cotton, is placed in the forward end of the torpedo,
and is fired by a detonating cap placed under a
percussion firing-pin. The outer end of the flriug-
pin is provided with fan-shaped corrugated horns,
which receive the impact blow, and are so shaped
and arranged as to prevent glancing or sliding
along on the object struck. The force of the blow
shears off the soft metal-pin and thus permits the
firing-pin to be driven down on the detonator by
the spring.
The navy department recently ordered thirty of
the Howell torpedoes to be made, together with
their launching carriages. Since then the principal
improvements made in the torpedo are mechanical,
and, though the form is the same as that before
used, the body of the torpedo, of spun brass, is
much improved in workmanship. It is made in
four sections, aud motion is communicated to the
fly-wheel by means of a clutch coupling driven by
a steam turbine motor. The following are the
dimensions agreed upon after a series of tests:
Length of body of torpedo, 9 feet ; length over all,
including propeller, 'Ji feet ; extreme diameter,
14.2 inches ; displacement, 410 pounds; weight of
explosive charge, at least, 72 pounds; minimum
speed, '22i knots. The eflective working range of
the torpedo will not be less than 400 yards, and
the mean speed for that range not less than 22i
knots per hour. The torpedoes are to be of good
material, so as to be easily handled and manipu-
lated, as would be necessary in actual naval service,
and this without undue risk or injury ; and it must
be so fitted as to be readily used for practice and
exercise, and recovered at the end of the run, and
be made ready for another run speedily aud without
elaborate preparation.
Like other fish torpedoes, that designed by Lieut.
M. E. Hall, of the navy, has the shape of a spindle
of revolution, carrying the charge in the nose, with
a percussion apparatus. The principal features
of this torpedo are its diving mechanism, the
THE I.IEUTE.VAXT HALL TORI'EDO.
pectoral fins, the device for overcoming the net-
defenses of vessels of war, and a special automatic
engine that utilizes the full expansion force of the
motive power. The pattern of the torpedo shown
in the cut has the following weights, dimensions,
etc.: Length, 15 feet; extreme diameter, 141 inches;
weight, 575 pounds : diameter of engines, 4 inches;
length of stroke, 4 inches ; diameter of propellers,
10 inches; revolutions a minute, 2,100; gun-cotton
charge, 80 pounds.
The cut shows a side view of the torpedo and its
three sections — the forward cone (A), the air-flask
TO K 1' K It O >\ A K FAKE
1499
(H) attachiug tlio buoyant grapnel (L). At the
end of the forwanl cone or compartment (A) the
tiring-rod (a) i.s titted loosely into the sleeve (b),
and actuated by a spring eouuected with the
trigger (c) upon contact -svith the object of attack.
The rib of the trigger is brol^en ofl" by impact,
.^hould the torpedo graze a vessel's bilge the trig-
ger would be tripped, and the tiring-rod would be
impelled by the spring against the plunger (d),
detonating the gun-cotton charge, as before, by
means of the primer and detouator. When attack-
ing a vessel protected by netting, the tloat (L) is
drawn aft by the resistance of the water, and tows
aft and above the torpedo until it fouls the net
that the torpedo passes under. Then the pull
upon the tow-line (e) trips the trigger (c), and
explodes the torpedo in close proximity to the
ship.
The magazine E contains eighty pounds of gun-
cotton in a copper case, which is pivoted at its
after end (g) and suspended by hangers (g g) at
its forward end, permitting a slight swinging
movement, which automatically steers the torpedo.
It has been well proved that when a ship heels
over to a brisk wind the lee bow becomes buried,
and has a greater displacement than the weather
one. This pressure under the lee bow throws her
into the wind unless counteracted by the helm.
This force is utilized in the Hall torpedo in the
following manner: A sea striking the torpedo in
launching drives it to leeward, at the same time,
owing to its slight stability it causes her to roll.
As the torpedo is symmetrical and circular in sec-
tion there would be no unbalanced pressure
under the lee bow, hence the pectoral fins have
been introduced. These are actuated by lugs
upon the swinging magazine (E) which take
against flexible brass plates and act upon the
torpedo so as to bring her upon an even keel, so
to speak. For instance, if a wave should strike
the torpedo on the port bow, she rolls to star-
board, and being deflected in this direction the
starboard pectoral fin is forced out by the swing-
ing magazine, causing an unbalanced pressure
under the lee bow and forcing the torpedo back to
her course. In other words, the torpedo has a
flexible bow which is automatically distended on
one side or the other, as required to keep her on
her course. As soon as the torpedo regains an
upright position the magazine is centered by the
springs (K).
The air-flask (B) has a capacity of nine cubic
feet and contains air under a pressure of 1,200
pounds a square inch. The throttle (1) is auto-
matically opened as the torpedo is discharged,
permitting air to reach the engine.
The engine chamber and the immersion cham-
ber are in the after cone. An automatic two-
cylinder double-eating trunk-engine actuates the
screws by means of the lever gears (n, n, n, n,)
the exhaust air escaping through the hollow screw-
shafts, which are provided with check-valves
(p p) to prevent the entrance of sea-water at the
end of the run. Abaft the engine-case is the im-
mersion chamber containing the diving mechanism.
The diving-valve is actuated by a float, the posi-
tion of which depends upon the amount of water
in the chamber. Water enters freely until it
reaches the bottom of the telescopic tube, after
which it can only enter by compressing the im-
3
prisoned atmospheric air within the chamber. By
extending the tube a greater pressure will bo re-
quired to fill the chamber than when the tube is
contracted; hence, in the former case the torpedo
will dive deeper than in the latter case. The
reaction of the air upon the water raises or de-
presses the tail of the torpedo, causing it to dive
or to rise to the surface. The motive-power is
steam, which, together with a suitable quantity
of water heated to 550 degrees, is .stored in a flask
or generator. As the pressure is leduced by the
consumption of the steam, the heated water grad-
ually vaporizes, furnishing a continuous supply.
The Patrick torpedo is an invention of J. N. H.
Patrick, and has been thoroughly tested, to the
satisfaction of both the United States and the
French governments. It has reached a stage
which, in the judgment of experts, renders it a
valuable weapon for use in actual warfare. It con-
sists of two fourteen-foot copper cylinders, held
by bars three feet apart. The upper cylinder is
filled with lampblack and carries signal flags. The
lower cylinder is filled with the firing charge. The
machinery is propelled by carbonic acid gas. Re-
cent experiments with it by the Xavy Torpedo
Board at Newport were reported as eminently suc-
cessful. The conditions of the test were that the
torpedo should make a speed of twenty knots for
one mile, maneuvering and firing under the con-
ditions of service, to be readily, certainly and
completely accomplished by the manipulator of
the operating apparatus, the center of the explo-
sive charge to be at least three feet below the sur-
face of the water when exploded.
When the torpedo was in motion only the two
flags and the foaming water, turned up by the
rapidly revolving propeller, could be seen. The
torpedo was first headed for the training-ship
Jamestown, then turned to the north, and run for
a quarter of a mile in that direction. A sharp
turn was then made in toward .shore and the tor-
pedo returned to the starting point, forming a
course the shape of an ellipse, and about a third
of a mile in its largest diameter. Several trials of
the torpedo were made, to test the efficiency of its
motive power. The torpedo is shaped like a spin-
dle, tapering at each end. It is about forty feet
in length, and its greatest diameter is twenty-four
inches. Its displacement is 5,163 pounds, and the
magazine charge of dynamite is 200 pounds. The
torpedo proper is sustained by a float which is
practically indestructible by mechanical gun-fire
during the short time that it would be exposed.
The float is also of the fusiform, and is made of
sheet-copper, one-eighth of an inch thick, filled
with lampblack. The propeller and rudder work
in solid water, and the former cannot easily be
fouled nor the cable grappled. The explosion
also takes place about three feet under the water.
In th-e application of the motive power, as in
many other details, the torpedo difl'ers from other
models. The propeller is two-bladed, and is fixed
on a hollow shaft through which the governing
cable is paid out, the controlling battery being 100
cells of bichromate. The acid, drawn in liquid
form from the bottom of the flask, is taken through
copper piping in the bottoms of the heaters.
These heaters are copper cylinders which contain
the diluted sulphuric acid, each having a cylindri-
cal trough in the top holding the lime. This
1500
TORPEDO W A R F A R E .
trough is divided into two parts, kept closed by a
series of lioolis on a common rod, the rod being
connected with a piston in a cylinder outside the
beater. The cable performs the functions of
starting, stopping, starboarding and porting the
helm, and firing the charge.
In considering the problem of the transmission
of power, the electric current has long occu-
pied attention, and has been in use for controlling
and directing torpedoes about twenty years.
The first application of electricity for propeUing
torpedoes was in 1877 by Mr. Sims, and after some
preliminary experimenting with a small pulling
boat, he completed a cigar-shaped torpedo pro-
pelled and controlled by electricity. It not being
successful in point of speed, a larger boat was
built, since when the perfection of the torpedo, or
rather the elficient generation of application of
power, by the dynamos on shore and the motor on
board, has been completed. A great increase in
speed is claimed for the Sims-Edison torpedo. As
THE SIMS-EDISON TORPEDO.
will be seen by the illustration, the apparatus
consists of two parts, the " float " and the sub-
merged " fish," a steel frame connects the two, be-
ing inclined at the bow and very sharp, so as either
to cut through obstructions, or dive under them, as
indicated by the dotted lines in the cut. Both the
float and flsh are of sheet copper. The former is
about thirty feet long and filled with cotton, which
renders it impervious to the water, and even if
struck repeatedly by small projectiles it would still
sustain its burden. It is broad at the top and nar-
row at the bottom, so that the bouyancy increases
rapidly with immersion. The fish, which carries a
200-pound charge of explosive, is submerged about
three and three-quarter feet, and can be exploded
at will or by concussion against the object of at-
tack. The flsh, or torpedo hull, is cyUndrical, with
conical ends.
As may be seen in the cut the flsh has four com-
partments with water-tight bulkheads, and, as
each compartment is separate from the other, it
can be taken apart when necessary for storage,
and can be put together again in flfteen minutes
ready for immediate service. The forward com-
partment carries the explosive, the next compart-
ment is empty, the third carries the cable and the
fourth carries the electric motor and steering
gear. Its total weight, including a forty horse-
power motor and 6,000 feet of cable, is 4,3(>4
pounds. The motor is two-pole, series-wound
and its resistance at rest is 6.53 ohms. The
Edison generator is capable of 1,500 to 1,600 revo-
lutions, with 1,300 volts at terminals and twenty-
five amperes normal capacity. On the official
trial the motor drove the boat at a speed of over
twenty-one miles an hour and on a short run
reached twenty-two miles an hour. The cable is
compound, having a small insulated conductor in
the center for the steering current produced by a
battery on shore, and an annular conductor for
the motor current. Steering is effected by a
powerful electro-magnet, into which is switched
the main current by means of a strong polarized
relay actuated by the current of the shore battery
through the central conductor of the cable. Two
keys, or one pole-changing key and switch, under
the hand of the officer on shore, control the relay
of the fish, and the rudder is thus thrown to one
side or the other at will at any moment. The
result is that while at full speed the boat may
have its course changed in auy desired direction
at any moment.
The charge is exploded electrically, hence there
is no probability of premature discharge. The
moment that the torpedo has reached and is push-
ing against the object of attack can be exactly
determined day or night by a simple ammeter in
the circuit showing by its great change of read-
ing when the motor is affected by the stoppage of
the boat. Besides the many advantages possessed
by such a torpedo for coast and harbor defense, it
has a special value as an instrument of offensive
warfare on the high seas, as nearly all the war
vessels are fitted with dynamos and engines for
them. By carrying a generator for torpedo service,
each vessel in commission can have one or more of
the Sims-Edison torpedoes fastened by 100-foot
hawsers furnished with electro-magnetic snap-
hooks, the electric cable communication being
then maintained permanently with the generator.
The torpedo can thus travel along within a con-
venient distance controlled by the navigator of the
war-ship. In action the war-vessel could approach
the euemy within a distance of two miles, stop and
send the torpedo on ahead, guiding it to the cer-
tain destruction of the hostile vessel.
Another recent invention of a torpedo controlled
by electricity is that of Lieutenant N. T. Halpine,
of the navy. It has a very noticeable feature not
DISCHABGING AN AERIAL TORPEDO.
possessed by any other. In all other torpedoes of
the "controlled" types it has been impossible to
have experimental drills without destroying the
flsh or hull; and as this was a matter of much ex-
pense, the drills have been conducted without
using an explosive charge. In Lieutenant Halpine'a
torpedo this difficulty has been overcome. The
forward part of the torpedo has a bell -mouth open-
ing, into which the explosive charge is fitted in its
own case, and is there held until the object of
T 0 K Q U E s — T 0 U L x\ .
1501
attack is reached, when it is detached and that
part of the hull which contains the mechanism is
left at a safe distance. The explosive charge can
then be fired at wUl and the torpedo proper, or the
hull, can be run to the starting point. The power
used can be either compressed air, electric or
other motor, working on a screw propeller.
There are other automobile or fish torpedoes,
especially the Whitehead, Brennan, Victoria,
Schwartzkopfl", that possess much merit; but they
are so nearly like the Howell, the Hall, the Patrick
and the Halpine that it is not necessary to describe
them here. John L. Lay, the inventor of the first
controllable torpedo that reached the phase of an
actual service weapon, has recently produced a
new weapon in England and he claims for it a
speed of sixteen knots with a range of two miles.
A new invention of a submarine torpedo boat, or
as this sort of weapon is frequently referred to, the
controllable torpedo, has recently appeared at
Detroit, and if it accomplishes all that the inventor
maintains for it, Jules Verne's dream of the Nait-
tilus promises to be realized. The boat is, in ap-
pearance, like a double-pointed cigar. It is forty
feet in length, sixteen feet deep from top to bot-
tom, and its extreme breadth, from the midship
point, is nine feet. The motive power is to be a
storage battery of electricity, connected with a
screw propeller on each side; and the vessel can
be submerged by simply turning a switch at the
shore station. The inventor of this " devihsh
weapon" declares that the machinery can be so
adjusted as to sink the boat to any depth and
send her along at a speed of ten miles an hour with
ease. And should any of the machinery become
deranged the torpedo would immediately rise to
the surface by the stopping of the propeller, which
alone keeps her submerged. The inventor has an
air chamber provided, the capacity of which is
suflBcient, with the aid of chemicals, to purify the
air for two men for twenty-four hours.
TORQUES, a species of gold ornament, worn
around the neck, and much in use in ancient
times, both among Asiatic and North European
nations. It consisted of a spirally-twisted bar of
gold, bent round nearly into a circle, with the ends
free, and terminating in hooks, or sometimes in
serpents.
TORRINGTON, a municipal borough and
market-town of the county of Devon, on an emi-
nence sloping to the Torridge, ten miles southwest of
Barnstaple. The inhabitants are for the most part
employed in agriculture and glove-making. The
name ofTorrington emerges frequently during the
great CivU War; and the capture of the town by
Fairfax in 1646, on which occasion the church,
with 200 prisoners, and those who guarded them,
were blown into the air by gunpowder, proved
fatal to the king's cause in the west. Population
in 1871, 3,529.
TORRINGTON, a township of Connecticut, on
the Naugatuck River. It has important manu-
factories of woolen goods, plated goods, hardware,
machiaery and needles. Population in 1890,
6,000.
TORSO (Ital.), strictly, a trunk, such as the
trunk of a tree,>but specially appUed to an ancient
statue of which only the body remains. Of such
imperfect relics of classic art, the most famous is
»he Torso of Hercules, a masterpiece of manly
beauty discovered in the Campo del Fiore, at the
beginning of the sixteenth century, and placed, by
order of Pope Julius II., in the Vatican.
TORTOISE, Turtle. See Britannica,Vol. XXII,
pp. 455-460.
TORTUGAS (Sp. Turtles), a group of ten low
coral islets or keys, also called the Dry Tortugas,
belonging to the United States, at the entrance of
the Gulf of Mexico, 120 miles southwest of Cape
Sable, the southern point of Florida. There has
been a lighthouse erected on Bush Key; and
refractory soldiers, and prisoners connected with
the War" of Secession, have been employed in
erecting a fort, called Fort Jefiersou.
TORULA CEREVISI^, or the Yeast Plant,
one of those fungi which are connected with the
process of fermentation. This plant, which is also
known under the names of Saccharomyces, My-
coderma cereviskc, and Cryptococcus fernientum,
may be readily observed by examining a little
yeast under the microscope, when it will be seen
in the form of round or oval corpuscles, varying in
diameter from the 800th to the 400th of a line, and
many ha%ing smaller corpuscles in their interior.
They grow by protrusion of gemmules, and germi-
nate sometimes on one, and sometimes on several
spots of the primitive fungus cells. These shoots
throwing off new gemmules, the yeast-plant
gradually forms single or branching rows of oblong
cells, connected together Uke beads. This peculiar
arrangement of the cells, and the fact that they
are not acted on by acetic acid, is characteristic of
the plant.
TOSHACH, the name given among Celtic nations
to the military leader of a clan or tribe, whose
functions were in early times separated from those
of the supreme judicial officer. When the office of
toshach, originally elective, became hereditary,
according to the principle of divided authority
characteristic of Celtic communities, it remained
permanently in the eldest cadet of the clan.
TOTIPALM.^, Cuvier's name for a group of
birds, of the order Palmipedes, having the hind
toe connected with the other toes by a web. Pel-
icans, cormorants, frigate-birds, gannets, and
darters belong to this group. All the TotipcUmee
are marine; they feed on fishes, moUuscs and
other marine animals, and are excellent swimmers
and divers. Many of them have long wings, and
are birds of powerful flight.
TOTNES, or Totness, a municipal and for-
merly a parliamentary borough and market-
town of Devonshire, situated on the slope of a
steep hill, on the right bank of the River Dart,
about ten miles from its mouth. It is a place of
great antiquity, has an interesting church of the
fifteenth century, and some curious antique houses.
The River Dart is navigable for vessels of 200 tons
up to the town, which has some little shipping
trade. The borough, which comprised also the
suburb of Bridgetown, was disfranchised for cor-
rupt practices by the Reform Bill of 1867.
Steamers ply during the summer months between
Totnes and Dartmouth. It is a station on the
South Devon railwav. Population in 1871, 4,073.
TOUCH-WOOD, " the wood of willows and
some other trees softened by decay. It is some-
times used as tinder for obtaining fire, from the
readiness with which a spark ignites it.
TOULA, or Tula, an important manufacturing
1502
T 0 U R A I ^' E — T E A N S K E I A N J' E K R I T 0 R I E S ,
town of Great Russia, capital of the government of
the same name, on the Upa, an aifluent of the Oka,
1 10 miles south of Moscow. Its churches, arsenal,
theater, industrial museum, cathedral and the an-
cient Kreml are the principal buildings. Toula is
an ancient town, and has suftbred severely from
Tartar mvasion, and during the wars of the com-
mencementof theseventeeifth century. Ironworks
founded here under Czar Alexis Michailovitch
have acquired a well-merited reputation. Cutlery,
locks, tea-urns and bells are made in great perfec-
tion; and bristles are prepared in large quantities
both for home consumption and export. Popula-
tion, .50,496.
TOURAIXE, one of the former provinces of
France, of which the capital was Tours, and which
was bounded on the north by the province of Or-
leannais, on the east by Berri, on the .south by
Poitou, and on the west by Anjou. It was about
sixty miles in length, and nearly the same number
of miles in breadth: it now appears on the map as
the department of Indre-et-Loire.
TOURGEE, Albion W., an American lawyer
and novelist, born in Ohio, in 1838. He sftrC ed
with credit throughout the Ci^il War, being twice
wounded ; practiced law in North Carolina : be-
came judge of the Xorth Carolina Superior Court
in 1S68, and assisted in the preparation of a Code
of Civil Procedure for North Carolina. He has
written a immber of novels, including A FooPs
Errand.
TOWN-ADJUTANT, Town-Majop., officers
on the statf of a garrison. They are often veteran
officers, too much worn for field-service. The pay
depends on the magnitude of the trust. The
town-major ranks as a captain ; the adjutant as a
lieutenant. The duties of these officers consist in
maintaining discipline, and looking after the find-
ing of the batteries, etc.
TOWNSEND, Charles Champlin, member of
Congress, born at Allegheny City, Pa., in 18il.
He received a common-school education: is a man-
ufacturer; served two years in the army during the
rebeUion as a private, and afterward as adjutant;
and was elected to Congress, 1889.
TOWNSEND, HosEA, member of Congress, born
in Ohio, in 1840. He entered Western Reserve
College, Ohio, in 1860; left school to enter the
army in 1861; was promoted to lieutenant, and
resigned in 1863, on account of disability; was ad-
mitted to the bar, and commenced the practice of
law in Tennessee in 1865; was elected to the Leg-
islature of that state in 1869, and served one term;
removed to Colorado in 1879, and was elected to
Congress in 1889, and re-elected in 1891.
TRACHOilA (derived from the Greek trachus,
rough), the term employed in ophthalmic surgery
to designate a granular condition of the mucous
covering of the eyelids, often accompanied with
haziness and vascularity of the cornea. It is
one of the most serious seqtieltB of purulent
ophthalmia.
TRACY, Benjamin F., secretary of the navy,
born at Owego, N. Y., in 1830. He studieil law;
was elected to the New York Assembly in 1861:
was a colonel of volunteers; was in the battle of
the Wilderness, and was brevetted brigadier-gen-
eral: became United States district attorney for
the eastern district of New York in 1866;
judge of the New York Court of Appeals in
'■ 1881: secretary of the navy in 1889. In
I February, 1890, Mrs. Tracy and Miss Mary Tracy,
1 the wife and youngest daughter of the secretaiy,
lost their lives by a fire which destroyed th ir
, Washington residence.
j TRADUCIANISM, one of the theories adopted
' for the purpose of explaining the production of the
; soul in the procreation of the human species. The
theory known as tradueianism, is ascribed to Ter-
tullian as its first author. He taught that souls
are propagated by souls, as bodies by bodies, and
by the same or a sinmltaneous process. The dis-
cussion of these theories in the fourth and fifth
centuries, was much promoted by the controver-
sies on Manichaeism.
TRAMMEL-NET. A kind of net re.sembling
the ch'ift-net used in the herring-fishery, but
anqliored and buoyed at each end. tlie back-rope
supported by small cork-floats, and the foot-rope
kept close to the ground by weights. The length
varies from 20 to 300 vards.
TKANS-ANDINE "railway, the first rail-
way across the continent of South America. It
runs from Buenos Ayres to Valparaiso, some
870 miles. In 1890 there were 640 miles finished
at the Buenos Ayi'es and 82 at the Valparaiso
end, while about a third of the rest was practically
complete. The Andes range is crossed at Cumbre
Pass, which is 13,045 feet above the sea level, and
at this point the railway follows a tunnel about
three miles long at an elevation of 10,450 feet, the
grades for a considerable distance being 1 in l'2i.
so that a rack rail is employed. " The opening of
the whole route is expected to take place in 1892.
Eight tunnels are being bored through the Andes
in connection with the line, of a total length of
nearly ten miles. Electricity and water are em-
ployed in novel fashion, and wnnk on the tunnels
goes on at twentv-six points.
TRANSITION, a term employed at first by
Werner to designate rocks having a mineral char-
acter intermediate between the highly crystal line,
or metamorphic rocks and ordinary sedimentary
deposits.
TRANSITORY ACTION, in the law of England,
is used, in contradistinction to local action, to de-
note that the particular action may be tried in
another county than that in which the occurrence
arose.
TRANSKEIAN TERRITORIES. For these
countries of South Africa, see Britannica, Vol.
XXIII, pp. .516-519. The area of Cape Colony, in
1889, was estimated at 233,430 square miles. This
includes an area of 15,283 square miles in the Trans-
keian Territories, and of Walfish Bay, in Damara-
land.
The estimated population in 1889 of Cape Col-
ony proper, including Griqualand West, was
1,048,628; and of its dependencies, Transkei, East
Griqualand, and Tembuland, 410.195: total 1,458,-
823. In 1880 it was 1,136,986. The total white
population is estimated at about 3.50,000. The
colony is divided into seventy divisions, and its
dependencies into sixteen districts.
The various Trauskeian territories are grouped
under their chief magistrates as follows, with
poimlation in January, 1889: Griqualand East,
comprising Port St. .tohn's, Noman's Land, and
the (latberg, with nine subordinate magistrates
(area 7,511 square miles, population 121,138, of
T R A X S L A T I C» N O 1- .M 1 .\ I s T E l{ S — T i; E A s U H ^
1503
whom 3,921 Europeans); Tembuland, comprising
Tembulaud proper, Bomvanaland, and Emigrant
Tembuland, with seven magistrates, inchiding resi-
dent magistrate (area 4,055 square miles, popula-
tion 159,325, of whom 5,515 Europeans); Trauskti.
comprising Fingoland, the Idutywa Reserve, and
Gcalekaland, with six magistrates (area '2,535
square miles, population 136,395. of whom 1,000
Europeans). These districts are subject to the
" Native Territories Penal Code. " Pondolaud,
population 200,000, with a resident commissioner
appniuted by the Cape government Walfish Bay
has an area of 430 square miles.
The capital of the colony. Cape Town, had a
population in 1SS9 of 41,704, excluding military
and shipping. The probable population of Cape
Town and suburbs is 70,000. Port Ehzabeth had a
population of 13,049 in 1S75, 15,926 in 1SS9; Kim-
berlev,13,590 in 1875, 28,663 in 1889; Beaconstield,
21.619 in 1889: Graham's Town, 6,903 m 1875,
8,261 in 1889: King William's Town, 5,195 in 1875,
5,386 in 1889: Woodstock, 5.720; East London,
5,903: Graaff Reinet, 5,622; Stellenbosch, 5,055.
A large proportion of the white inhabitants are of
Dutch, German, and French origin, mostly de-
scendants of the original settlers.
TRANSLATION OF MIXLSTERS. in the law
of Scotland, the removal of a mini.ster from one
parish benefice to another.
TRANSOMS, in artillery, the bars or bolls by
which the two sides — technically called " cheeks "
— of a gtm-carriage are held together. In a ship,
beams across the sternpost, at right angles to that
timber fastened in the same way as the floors upon
the keel,
TRANSPOSE, in music, to change a piece of
music in performance from the key in which it is
written to another key. To plav at sight an ac-
companiment for such an instrument as the piano-
forte or organ, transposed from one key to another,
requires considerable artistic skill. To the singer,
transposal presents no difficulties.
TRASS, a tufaceous deposit of the extinct vol-
canoes of the Eifel, near Coblenz, resembhng the
Puzzolana of Naples. Its base consists almost
entirely of pumice, in which are imbedded frag-
ments of basalt, burnt shale, slate, sandstone, etc.,
and even numerous trunks and branches of trees.
Its formation is accounted for by supposing an
eruption to have taken place, with copious evolu-
tion of gases, in a lake-basin, and a flood" of the
mud thus formed to have swept away whatever
came before it. Large areas are covered by the
trass, which has choked up valleys, now partially
re-excavated.
TRAVERSING PLATFORM, an arrangement
for the more rapid and easy movement of cannon
in battery. The gun is either mounted on an
ordinary truck-carriage, or on rollers under its
trunnions. The truck or rollers work in and out
on two parallel iron rails, which rails are mounted
on the traversing carriage, and are sixteen feet or
more in length. Wheels at each end of this plat-
form, or more frequently if the weight of the gun
be very great, are placed at right angles to the
direction of the rails, and run on circular tram-
ways, which have their center in the embrasure
through which the gun is fired. The rails incline
upward toward the rear, to moderate the gun's
recoil. The advantages are. that the leverage for
turning the gun is increased by the piatform's
length, while the circular rails diminish the resist-
ance; that the gun is easily run out for firing on
the upper rails; that by its own recoil it runs itself
in again for loading; and that a much smaller
embrasure is required to give a good compass to
the muzzle.
TRAVESTY, a term applied in literature to
denote a burlesque representation of something
previously executed in a serious and lofty manner.
It diiJ'ers from Parody in, that while the latter
changes the subject-matter and the dramatis
personee, but mockingly imitates the style of the
original, the former leaves the subject-matter
partially, and the dramatis j)erso»ce wholly, un-
altered; producing a purely comic efl'ect by the
substitution of the mean, the frivolous, and the
grotesque in action or speech, for the serious, the
noble, or the heroic.
TRAVXIK, a town of European Turkey, capital
of the province of Bosnia, on the Lasva River,
forty-five miles northwest of Bosna-Serai. Its
nmnerous mosques and the castle, which dates
from the middle ages, are the principal edifices.
It contains 12,000 inhabitants, almost all Moham-
medans. The principal branch of industry is the
manufacture of sword-blades.
TREASON. See Britannica, Vol. XXII, pp.
525-^530.
TREASURY. The United States Treasury De-
partment was established by act of Congress Sept.
2, 1789, and numerous amendments have since so
augmented its business, that it is now the largest
and most important of all the executive depart-
ments of our government. It is presided over by
a Secretary who is nominated by the President
and confirmed by the Senate. This officer has the
duty of managing the United States revenues
under the laws of Congress. Two Assistant Sec-
retaries of the Treasury are also appointed by the
President aad confirmed by the Senate. There
are also in the office of the secretary a Chief Clerk
and nine Division Chiefs, upon whom devolves the
general direction of the routine business and opera-
tions of the office.
In addition to the officers connected with the
secretary's office proper, there are in the treasury
department the following officers:
1. The First Comptroller examines all accounts
.'settled by the first auditor, except those relating
to receipts from customs. He also countersigns
all warrants drawn by the secretary of the treas-
ury.
2. The Second Comptroller examines all ac-
counts settled by the second, third and fourth
auditors. He also coimtersigns all requisitions
drawu on the secretary of the treasury by the sec-
retaries of war and of the navy.
3. The Commissioner of Customs examines all
accounts settled by the first auditor relating to re-
ceipts from customs, and certifies to balances
arising thereon to the register of the treasury.
4 The First Auditor examines all accovmts ac-
cruing in the treasury department (except those
arising under the iuterual revenue laws), certifies
the balance, and tran.smits the accounts to the first
comptroller, or to the commissioner of customs,
who have respectively the revision thereof.
5. The Second Auditor examines and settles the
accounts relating to the pay aud clothing of the
1504
T E E A S U R Y
army, ordnance service, subsistence of officers,
bounties to soldiers, Liospital stores, and contingent
expenses of tbe war department, and also those
relating to Indian affairs.
6. The Third Auditor examines all accounts
relating to the subsistence and tritnsportation of
the army, all accounts of the war department,
other than those assigned to the second auditor,
and all accounts relating to army pensions.
7. The Fourth Auditor receives and settles all
accounts relating to navy pensions and accounts
pertaining to the naval service.
8. The Fifth Auditor receives and examines all
accounts relative to tbe dijiloniatic and consular
service, accounts relating to the census, the
national museum and the contingent expenses of
the patent office.
9. The Sixth Auditor examines all accounts
relating to tbe postal service, and reports to the
postmaster-general all balances found on settle-
ment of such accounts.
10. The Treasurer of the United States re-
ceives and disburses all public moneys that may
bo deposited in the treasury at Washington, and
the sub- treasuries at New York, Boston, Phila-
delphia, Baltimore, New Orleans, San Francisco,
St. Louis, Chicago and Cincinnati, and in the
national bank United States depositories.
11. The Register of the Treasury is the official
bookkeeper of the United States. He prepares a
yearly statement which shows every receipt and
disbursement of the public money; signs and
issues all the United States bonds; registers all
warrants drawn by the secretary of the treasury
upon the United States treasurer and transmits
statements of balances due to individitals after the
settlement of their accounts by the first
comptroller, or the commissioner of customs,
upon which payment is made.
12. The Comptroller of the Currency has the
control of tlie national banks.
13. The Director of the Mint has general sup-
ervision of all the mints an<l assay offices of the
United States.
14. The Sohcitor of the Treasury is the law
officer of the deijartment. He takes cognizance
of all frauds or attempted frauds on the customs
revenue, and has supervision over suits for the
collection of moneys due to the United States,
excepting tho.se due under the internal revenue,
and over all suits relating to national l)anks, in
which the United States and its agents are
parties.
15. The Commissioner of Internal Revenue has
general superintendence of the collection of all
internal revenue taxes, and the enforcement of all
internal revenue laws.
16. The Superintendent of the Coa.st and Geo-
detic Survey is charged with the survey of the
Atlantic, Gulf and Pacific coasts of the United
.States, including the coasts of Alaska: the survey
of rivers to the head of tide- water or .ship naviga-
tion; deep-sea soundings; temperature and cur-
rent obsorvalinns along the said coasts; magnetic
observations and gravity research; determination
<if heights by geodetic leveling, and of geographical
position by Mnes of transcontinental triangula-
tion.
17. The Supervising Inspector-General of Steam
Vessels superintends the administration of the
steamboat inspection laws, presides at the meet-
ings of the board of supervising inspectors, re-
ceives all reports, and examines all accounts of
inspectors.
18. The Supervising Surgeon-General supervises
the marine hospitals and other relief stations of
the service; takes care of sick and disabled sea-
men, both from the merchant vessels of the United
States, and from the revenue-marine and light-
house services; purveys medical and other sup-
plies; assigns medical officers to the United States
hospitals, and examines requisitions, vouchers,
juoperty returns, and manages all matters pertain-
ing to the United States hospital service.
19. The General Superintendent of the Life-
Saving Service supervises the organization and
government of the employes of the .service; pre-
pares regulations therefor; fixes the number and
compensation nf sm'f'men to be employed at the
several stations; supervises the expenditure of aU
appropriations made for the service; examines
the accounts of disbursements of the district
superintendents, and the property returns of the
keepers of the several stations; prepares estim;ites
for tlie support of the service; compiles statistics
of marine disasters, and makes an annual report
of the expenditures for the maintenance of the
life-saving service and of the operations of said
service during the year.
20. The Chief of the Bureau of Statistics col-
lects and publishes the statistics of our foreign
commerce; makes monthly statements of imports
and exports, especially of breadstutt's, provisions,
petroleum, and cotton; makes annual reports on
navigation, and monthly reports on immigration,
and the total values of foreign commerce.
21. The Chief of the Bureau of Engraving and
Printing designs, engraves, prints, and finishes all
the securities and other similar work of the gov-
ernment printed from steel plates (except postage
stamps and postal notes), embracing United States
notes, bonds, and certificates, national bank notes,
internal revenue and customs stamps, treasury
drafts and checks, disbursing officers' checks,
licenses, commissions, patent and pension certifi-
cates, and portraits of deceased members of Con-
gress and other public officers authorized by law.
22. The Light-House Board is composed of two
officers of the navy of high rank, two officers of
the corns of engineers of the army, and two civil-
ians of high scientific attainments, together with
an officer of the navy and an officer of engineers
of the army as secretaries. Under the superin-
tendence of tlie secretary of the treasury this
board discharges all administrative duties relating
to the construction, illumination, inspection, and
superintendence of light-houses, light- vessels,
beacons, buoys, ami their appendages.
It is seen from the foregoing details that the
transaction of the immense and varied business
of the United States treasury department is dis-
tributed among a series of responsible officers.
The clerical and other foices employed in the va-
rious offices and bureaus number 15,697, of whom
2,8.32 are in bureaus in Washington, D.C., 4,450 in
the customs service, .3, .'50.'} in the internal revenue
service, 948 in the mints and assay offices, 225 in
the several sub-treasuries, and 3,919 in the life-
saving, marine hospital, steamboat inspection, and
revenue marine bureaus, and in the various public
T R E A T Y — T K E E S OF LIBERTY.
: .",05
buildings and other branches of the department
located throughout the country.
TREATY. For information on the general sub-
ject of treaties, see Britannica, Vol. XXII, pp. 530
-532. In the United States the treaties are nego-
tiated by the executive department and confirmed
by the Senate. When so confirmed, tbey are part
of the law of the land. The principal treaties
in which the United States are vitally interested
are:
1819. Declaration of the rights of neutrals, as
adopted by the United States and accepted by
Great Britain.
183S. Maine boundary dispute, between Great
Britain and the United States, settled by Lord
Ashburton and Daniel Webster.
lSi2. Anglo- American Convention to check the
slave trade.
ISiS. Arbitration on pecuniary disputes between
the United States and Mexico (under the King of
Prus.sia).
1846. Treaty between Great Britain and the
United States, fixing the forty-ninth parallel as
boundary, and confirming Vancouver Island to
Great Britain.
1850. Claytou-Bulwer Treaty, Great Britain and
United States (neutrality in Central America).
1853. Arbitration between Great Britain and the
United States (Florida bonds).
1853. Arbitration between the United States and
Mexico.
1851. Washington Treaty, between Great Britain
and the United States (Fisheries and Commerce).
1858. Convention between the Uuited States and
Japan (opening certain ports).
1858. Arbitratii u between the United States and
Chili (under the King of the Belgians).
1859. Arbitration between the United States and
Paraguay. Xew Granada, and Costa Rica.
18G3. A detailed Code of Instructions drawn up
for the Uuited States armies in the field, laying
down valuable principles of international law.
1863. Arbitration between the United States
and Peru.
1864. Convention of Geneva on behalf of the
sick and wounded in war. Red cross adopted.
1864. Arbitration between Great Britain and
the United States about Pugel Sound.
1865-6. .Slaves emancipated in the United
States.
1869. International Telegraphic Conference and
Treaty at Berne.
1871. Arbitration agi'eed to between Great
Britain and the United States on the Alabama
Claims. The award was made in June, 1872.
1871. Arbitration between the United States and
Mexico.
1871. International Telegraph Conference at
Rome.
1872. St. Juan Arbitration between Great Brit-
ain and the United States (under the emperor of
Germany).
1874. Dispute between Switzerland and Italy
referred to the United States minister at Rome.
1874. International Postal Treaty at Berne.
Postal Union established.
1874. International Conference and Declaration
of Brussels on the Laws and Customs of War.
1875. International Telegraph Conference at St.
Petersburg.
1875. International Postal and Metric Confer-
ence at Pari.s.
1S79. Telegraphic Convention in London.
1883. Convention at Paris on the protection of
industrial property.
1885. International Telegraph Conference at
Berlin.
1885. First International Congress on Inland
Xavigation at Brussels.
1885. African Conference at Berlin. The new
Congo State sanctioned.
1886. Conference at Tokio for the revision of
Japanese Treaties. New provisions in regard to
foreign residents.
1887. Conventions between China and France,
and China and the United States.
1887. Joint Commission at Washington to ar-
range the Fishery Disputes between the United
States, Great Britain and Canada.
1888. Fisheries Treaty concluded by the
Washington Commission ; rejected by the United
States Senate.
1888. Convention for the Xeutralizatiou of the
Suez Canal signed at Constantinople by repre-
sentatives of the powers.
1888. International Trades Union Congress in
London.
Up to 1873 the United States government ad-
justed its relations to the North American Indians
by means of treaties. Since 1873 this method has
been discontinued, and acts of Congress have
taken the place of treaties as means of adjusting
such relations.
TREBLE, the highest part in harmonized music,
which in general contains the melody, and is simg
by a soprano voice. The treble or G clef is placed
on the second line of the stall", indicating that the
note G occupies the line encircled by its lower
curve. It is one of the two clefs in use in music
for keyed instruments.
TREE, the name given to those plants which
live for many years, and have woody stems and
branches, the stem being generally single, and
bearing a head of branches and twigs; whereas
shrubs have generally a number of stems spring-
ing from one root. Tlie terms tree and shrub are
not, however, of very exactly defined signification;
and many .shrubs, under certain circumstances,
assume the form of trees, either naturally or by
the help of art; while trees are, in other circum-
stances, converted into .shrubs.
TREES OF LIBERTY. The custom, peculiar
to almost all the nations of Europe, celebrating
the beginning of spring and various festivals by
setting up green boughs, led, duruig the War of
Independence in the United States, to the habit
of planting poplars and other trees as the symbol
of growing freedom. This example was imitated
during the French Revolution. These trees,
crowned with the cap of liberty, were soon to be
found in every village, while the people danced
round them, singing revolutionary songs, and re-
garded them as the rendezvous of the patriots.
This custom was regulated by a decree of the
convention, and diffused over foreign countries by
the republican armies. During the Reigu of Ter-
ror, thousands lost their lives under the pretext of
having injured a tree of liberty. During the
empire, this custom, like all others that had
originated during the republic, was completely
15U<;
T i; K X T 0 N — T II E \' E S .
suppressed. After most of tlie trees of liberty had
fallen durins the eoiitlicts in the streets of Paris,
in June, 1848, government issued an order for
their removal from all places where they impeded
traffic. Before the end of the year, they had
entirely disappeared. Numerous trees of liberty
were likewise erected in Italy during the revolu-
tion of 1848 and 1849, but fell again as the dif-
ferent insurrections were quelled.
TRENTON, a town, and the couuty-seat of
Grundy county. Mo., on the Crooked Fork of
Grand River. It contains a number of machine
shops and flour and woolen mills. Population in
1890, 5,011.
TRENTON, a city of New Jersey. Population
in 1890, 57,458. See Britannica, Vol. XXIII, p.
552.
TREVELTAN, Sir GEoiici? Otto, born in
1838. He represented Tynemouth in 1865-08, and
commenced his official parliamentary career in 1809
as lord of the iidmiralty; and, in Mr. Gladstone's
ministry, became secretary to the admirality.
After holding the office of chief secretary for Ire-
land, Sir George was appointed chancellor of the
duchy of Lancaster (with a seat in the cabinet)
in 1884, and held the office of secretary for Scot-
land for a month in 1880. Sir George, being
luiable to agree with Mr. Gladstone's Irish policy,
resigned his position in the government, but on
the conclusion of the Round Table Conference, at
which he represented the Pnionist party, he an-
nounced that his opposition to the points of dis-
agreement with regard to the Home Rule move-
ment had been overcome, and he rejoined his
colleagues on the Front Opposition bench. Sir
George has gained distinction in the world of
letters by his Life of Lord M/icinilai/, his uncle.
He is also the author of some humorous poetry,
entitled The Ladies in Parliament.
TKfiVES, Holy Coat of. For general article
ou Treves, see Britannica, Vol. XXIII, pp. 552-53.
After an interval of forty-seven years another
great pilgrnnage was made in the midsummer of
1891, to Treves, Prussia, to obtain a personal view
of the alleged " seamless coat" of Jesus Christ,
which, at the time of his crucifixion, passed into
possession of the Roman soldiers, and which had
last been exhibited in 1844 to pilgrims, estimated
to number over 1,500,000. The story of this coat
which at intervals has awakened excited attention
for several centuries, is that it was discovered, or
rather found, by St. Helena, the innkeeper's
daughter, who became the wife of one Ca'sar and
the mother of another. On her return from Pales-
tine, early in the fourth century, she deposited the
garment in the basilica out of which grew the
Cathedral of Treves, a city which, in those days,
was the cai)ital of Belgie Gaul, and the residence
of the later Roman emperors. In course of time
this lordly chui'ch was so tilled with relics that
when the l)arbarians in the fifth century, and the
Normans in the ninth, played havoc with the town,
the treasures were concealed in crypts, and there
they remained for .so hmg a period that the exist-
ence of some of them was forgotten. This is the
legend. More authentic records tell us that the
holy coat was discovered, or rediscovered, in the
year 1196, and then solemnly exhibited to the un-
critical gaze of the pious. Contrary to the wont of
most other treasures of a similar kind, which are
exhibited pretty fre(|ueutly — the " great relics "in
Aix-la-Chapelle being an exception — the holy
coat was not seen again for more than three cent-
uries, an interval that is full of suggestiveness in
the case of a town crowded, as the archiepiseopal
capital of Treves then was, with crafty prie.sts and
skillful weavers.
At all events, it was not shown until 1512, when
the multitudes flocking to veuerateit were so great
that Leo X. determined that it should be produced
every seventh year. But, meantime, Tetzel and
his sale of indulgences had made their mark, and
the great festival of the holy coat ceased to be ob-
served with any regularity, profitable though the
occasion undoubtedly was to the church and
townsmen of Treves. In 1810 it was again exhib-
ited, anil in spite of the slowne.ss of traveling, and
notwithstanding Napoleon's prohibition against
the working of miracles, 227,000 people went to
the memorable sight. For thirty-four years noth-
ing more was heard of the coat, and the secret of
its hiding place was confided to so .select a body of
the cathedral clergy that it was feared that it had
again been lost. Indeed, so silent were the au-
thorities regarding this greatest of their relics that
as late as 1841, there were doubts whether it really
existed. All that the attendants of the church
could say was that it was walled up in the high
altar, and would appear once more on the cen-
tenary of its exhibition in 1744.
In 1844, accordingly. Bishop Arnoldi produced
the coat. It was then a loose garment with wide
sleeves, very simple in shape, of coarse material,
dark brown in color, and entirely without seam or
decoration. According to one of the many de-
scriptions and figures of it published at the time it
measured from the extremity of each sleeve five
feet four inches, the length from the collar to the
lowermost edge being five feet two inches. Ill
parts it was tender or threadbare, and some stains
on it were reinited to be those of the Redeemer's
blood, though nothing was said as to the patch-
work character of the tunic. On this, as on pre-
vious occasions, miracles were reported to have
been wiought by it in the shape of cures, the
nature of the best authenticated being closely akin
to those known nowadays as faith healing. Since
the Middle Ages no sucli pilgrimage had been
known, and no mediaival shrine could have at-
tracted the same number of people in tlie same
space of time, for it is said that 1,500,000 devotees
\isited the high altar on which the coat was placed.
They came from all quarters, many from long dis-
tances, traveling on foot, preceded by their village
priests and by surpliced boys bearing banners. All
the inns and lodging houses of the town were
crammed, and not a vacant room which the own-
ers were willing to let, could be had after the first
week for either love or money. But it was sum-
mer, and there was little hardship in sleeping on
stairca.ses, in out-houses, or even in the streets and
sciuares, with the pilgrim wallets for pillows.
Every morning at early dawn, the eager sight-
.seers took up their posts by the cathedral doors,
until a line of more than a mile in length was
formed, so that it was difficult for any, save the
head of the i)rocession, to reach the coat much
under three hours. The heat, dust and fatigue
exhausted many, who fainted by the way, while
the pent-up excitement of others gave way to
T 1{ I L) A C N I D .E — T K I L O G Y
1507
hysteria .is they made their oblatious before the
sacieti object.
At the close of the exhibition, amoiii:; those who
disapproved of the whole aflair was .lohami Ronge,
a Roman CathoUc priest, who, in October. 1844,
made a vigorous attack on Hishop Arnoidi for
encouraging those acts of adoration to what ho
declared was at best a relic of the most doubtful
authenticity. As this declaration was against a
canon of tbe church, and in contempt of more
than one papal bull, the recalcitrant churchman
was promptly escmiiiuunicated by the chapter of
Breslau. Tlie result, however, was a schism so
wide that in six months there were twenty-seven
congregations who professed themselves of Ronge's
way of thinking.
In midsummer. 1891, a committee of experts,
choseu by the Roman Catholic Bishop of Treves,
made a private examination of the garment and
vouched for its genuineness, " though it is rather
moldier and more mildewed than when last per-
mitted to see the light of day." That is to say,
they vouch that the coat is the same one which
was exhibited in 1844. the seals still being intact.
We need hardly observe that it was impossible for
them, or for anybody else, to produce a scintilla of
proof that it was the seamless coat for which the
Roman soldiers cast lots on Calvary nearly nine-
teen centuries ago. Roman Catholic tradition
affirms that the coat possesses a miraculous ])ower,
enabling it to defy the ravages of time. Unfortu-
nately, however, the pious citizens who had been
requested to examine it diil not bear out this
explanation by their report. On the contrary they
declare that the garment shows traces of having
been renewed, several patches on it being em-
bedded in a piece of linen or cotton cloth of a later
manufacture.
In 1891, alter extensive preparations, the ex-
hibition opened August 20th. A .cable telegram
received nn that date describing the opening
ceremonies, reads as follows:
" The garment known ;ts the holy coat was ex-
posed to view this morning in tbe cathedral at
Treves. Two Knights of Malta, in full costume,
with drawn swords in their hands, stood on either
side of the shrine inclosing the holy-coat case,
which was surrounded by tall lighted candles in
hand.some candlesticks and .surmounted l)y a large
gold cross. There- was an impre.ssive scene in
the sanctuary during the celebration of liigh
mass, over a hiradred priests assisted in the cer-
emonies.
" The bishop declares that the only aim of the
exhibition is -to revive the faith in and the love
toward our Divine Saviour,' and fervently exhorts
the Church to the end that the period of exhibi-
tion may be 'a season of grace for all.' This
grace, he urges, is to be petitioned for • through
fervent prayer and works of Christian penance.'
The feast should be celebrated in the spirit of our
forefathers. ' Not out of curiosity, not for amuse-
ment, did they come to our cathedral: but they
followed the impulse of grace, to profess their faith,
to show to God their love and gratitude by vener-
ating His holy coat.'
•' The holy coat is distinctly visible in the tiody
of the cathedral, and is much more plainly seen
than upon the former occasion of its exhibition.
The old .silken covering being almost entirely worn
I away, it appears to-day to be of a brownish yellow
I color. "
I During the exhibition of the ''Holy Coat,"
I which closed in October. 1891, it was estimated
that over 2,000,000 people visited Treves.
TRIDACXID.E, a family of lamellibranchiate
molluscs, having the .shell open, the valves equal,
tbe foot small, and furnished with a byssus. Tri-
dncna ffi'jas is remarkable for its great size, ex-
ceeding that of any other bivalve. The shell of a
single specimen has been known to weigh more
than 500 lbs. The valves are sometimes used in
Roman CathoUc churches for holy-water vessels.
They are also used as an ornament for grottoes
and fountains. They are deeply furrowed and
beautifully grooved. This great mollusc is a na-
tive of the East Indies, and is used for food.
TRIDEXT, in classic mythology, the symbol of
Neptune's sovereignty over the sea. It consisted
of a' staff, armed at one end with three short
prongs, with double barbs at the points, resem-
bling the fuscina used by the Italians in catching
large fish, particularly the sword-fish, from which
we may perhaps infer that Neptunus was origi-
uallv the god of fl.shermen.
TRIENNIAL PRESCRIPTION, in the law of
Scotland, a limit of three years Imposed on aU
creditors to bring their actions to recover a cer-
tain class of debts and damages, such as actions
to recover merchants' accounts, servants' wages,
house rents (where the lease is verbal), debts due
to tradesmen, lawyers and doctors. So actions to
recover damages for wrongous imprisonment must
be brought within three vears.
TRIGONOCARPON, a common fruit in the
coal-measures, occurring in all the strata except
I the underclays and limestones. Some six or eight
species have been established, which differ from
one another in .size and shape — some being as
I small as a pea, and others as large as a walnut.
They are marked, when preserved in the round,
; with three longitudinal ridges, and from this char-
I acter the name was derived. Tbey have never
j been found attached to any jilant. It was at first
thought that they were palm fruits, but Dr.
Hooker, from the examination of several speci-
mens whicli exhibit structure, has shown that
they are not unlike the structure of Salisburia, a
drupe-bearing coniferous tree, a native of China
and Japan.
TRIKHALA, or Trik.\la. a town of Europe, in
Greece, thirty-three miles southwest of Larissa.
It manufactures cotton and woolen stuffs, and has
a large transit trade with Epirus and Albania.
The neighboring plains, which are watered by the
Salembria (ancient Prneus), are rich in all sorts of
fruits. Population. (1889), 12,662. Trikhala is the
Trikka of Homer, and was celebrated in the classic
ages for its temple of ^Esculapius.
TRILOGY, the name given by the Greeks to a
group of three tragedies, either connected by a
common subject, or each representing a distinct
story. A satyric drama was customarily added as
a termination, whence the whole was sometimes
termed a tetralogy. Every tragic poet that wished
to take part in a poetic contest had to produce a
trilogy along with a satyric drama at the Diony-
i siac, Leuffian and Anthesteriac festivals. Wo
I possess only one perfect specimen of the classic
trilogy, the Oresteia of ^Eschylus. which embrace; 1
1508
'1' K I M il E E — T R I P L K ALLIANCE
the Agamemnon, the Chce.phora; and the Eume-
nirles.
TRIMMER, a political term in use in the reigns
of Charles II. and William III., originally applied
to certain politicians of Charles' time, of whom
the chief was Charles ilontagu, earl of Halifax,
who held opinions half-way between the extreme
Whigs and Tories. Halifa.^: adopted the name
Trimmer as a title of honor, maintaining that
everything good was a medium between extremes.
The same term was applied more generally by
IJryden and other writers of the same period to
all who, professing to be friends to monarchy,
were at the same time enemies to the duke of
York, and who were equally obnoxious to the
court and to the fanatical republicans.
TRIMURTI, the name of the Hindu triad, or
the gods Brahma (mascuhne), Vishnu and Siva,
when thought of as an inseparable unity, though
three in form. When represented, the Trimurti
is one body with three heads: the middle head,
that of Hrahma; at its right, that of Vishnu; and
at its left, that of Siva.
TRINIDAD, a town, the county-seat ot Las
Animas county, Colorado; on Purgatory River. It
is the seat of Rice Institute and other educational
institutions, and exports large quantities of wool.
Population in 1890, 5,500.
TRINITY, a river of Texas, formed by the
union of two streams, West Fork and Elm Fork,
which rise near the northern bomidary of the
state, and unite 150 miles southeast, the main
stream flowing thence 550 milesin the same gen-
eral direction to Galveston Bay, about forty miles
north of the city of Galveston. It is navigable
300 to 500 miles.
TRINITY, a river of California, rising near the
coast-range, and flowing through a country of rich
gold-mines, into the Klamath River.
TRINODA NECESSITAS, three species of con-
tributions, to which, in Anglo-Saxon times, all the
lands of England, whatever their tenure, not ex-
cepting those of the church, were subject, namely,
Brijge-hot, for keeping the bridges and highways
in repair; and Burg-hot, for keeping the fortresses
ill repair; and Fijrcl, for maintaining the military
and naval force of the kingdom.
TRIO, in music, a composition for three voices
or for three instruments. The same term is also
applied to a movement in f time in a different key,
which follows a minuet or other movement, and
always leads back to the previous movement in
the original key.
TRIPLE ALLIANCE, the name first given
in 1879, to a stipulation of mutual support between
Germany, Austria and Italy. It was a defensive
agreement of mutual support, for the ostensible
pupose of preserving the peace of Europe, but for
the real purpose of preventing Russia and France
from making any efforts to encroach upon the
present boundary allotment of the European
states. The alliance was for a term of six years.
In 1885 it was renewed for another term of six
years; and it now (1891) has been extended for
another six years' term.
The motive for this third alliance is obvious.
Germany has nothing to gain and much to lose
from another war. She does not care to add to
her territories, and in the event of a great struggle
there would probably be serious trouble in Alsace
and Lorraine. On the other hand, both Russia
and France have definite ends to be reached.
Russia is always working in the Balkan region for
additions to her territory, and always moving on
patiently, but with unbroken determination, to-
ward Constantinople. France is inspired with a
determination to recover her lost territory or be
revenged. It is believed that the arrangement
between Russia and France involves a distinct
understanding by which France is to be allowed
supremacy in the Mediterranean, and Russia to
have a perfectly free hand in the East. It must
be remembered also that while the populations of
Austria, Italy and Germany desire peace no less
earnestly than their rulers, there is in France
strong popular feeling against Germany, and in
Russia a latent desire for war, which at any
moment may be fanned into a flame. The war
initiated by Germany or Austria would be a
dynastic war. but a war initiated by either France
or Ru.'^.sia might be a popular war. The practical
l)faring of this fact lies in the pos.sibility of the
war being precipitated by an outburst of popular
feeling in either of these two countries. So far as
the members of the Triple Alliance are concerned,
war will not be precipitated save by the concur-
rent action of the sovereigns at the head of the
states. What Italy has to gain from this alliance
is not very clear. Her only apparant gain is in
prestige; as a member of tlie alliance she ranks as
a great power, and since the bold move of Cavour
in sending Italian troops to the Crimea this has
been part of her policy: a policy that has resulted
in the autonomy of the Italian people.
The chief beneficent result of tlie Triple Alli-
ance lies in the fact that in a way it insures for the
time the peace of Europe. A war to-day would
mean a struggle between two groups of powers
who would divide all Europe between them. Not
since the days of Napoleon has Europe witnessed
so gigantic a strife as would follow the outbreak
of hostilities; and this fact has a tendency to
make statesmen and rulers sober l)y making them
conscious of tremendous responsibilities. On the
other hand, the Triple Alliance is the direct
source of a number of very unfortunate influences.
It involves a military force on all sides of nearly
ten millions of men, and it represents the most
frightful burden of taxation known in history.
This enormous body of men must not only be sup-
ported and paid, but in great numbers they are
taken out of every field of productive work, and
the world loses just so much by their absence.
The situation involves more loss of productive
force and a heavier outgo to .sustain unproductive
hands, than any previous condition in the history
of the world. This is a very serious (act in the
economic situation. Moreover, the alliance, ex-
tended now for a third term of six years, makes it
impossible to take the first step toward the dis-
armament of Europe. It fastens the status qtM
more heavily than ever upon all the great nations.
There are apparently but two ways of escape
from the appalling burdens which Europe is now
bearing. A great war might so tlioroughly weaken
and disable one or two of the disputants as to de-
stroy the present equilibrium and relieve the
others of the dangers and fears which now sur-
round them; or, by consensus of opinion, a reduc-
tion of the different armaments. Sooner or later
T i; I 1' L E T — T R 0 r T ,
1509
the burden will be too heiivy to be borne; it is
already wearing into the hearts and souls of men;
but the Triple Alliance makes it impossible to re-
duce the burden or to relieve the situation.
TRIPLET, in music. When a note is divided
into three in place of two parts — as when a minim
is divided into three crotchets, a crotchet into
three quavers, etc. — the group is called a triplet,
and it is usual to place the figure 3 over it.
TRIPOD, any article of furniture supported on
three feet. Three-legged caldrons and bronze
altars more especially came under this denomina-
tion in classical times: many of them are of ex-
quisite workmanship, and richly decorated. The
sacrificial tripod in its earliest form resembled the
caldron, with the addition of three rings at the
top to serve as handles. Of this description
seems to have been the tripod at Delphi, from
■which the Pythian priestess delivered her oracles.
Tripods of a similar form were given as prizes at
the Pythian games; and at Athens, a tripod was
considered an appropriate reward for a successful
choragus. Some beautiful tripods were found at
Pompeii; and there are several very interesting
specimens in the British Museum.
TRIPOLI, a mineral substance employed in
polishing metals, marble, glass, etc., so named be-
cause it was originally brought from Tripoli in Af-
rica. It is a siliceous rock, composed of very
minute particles, somewhat loosely held together,
80 as to yield readily to the nail, and to crumble
down in water like rotten-stone.
TRITON, in Greek mythology, a son of Poseidon
and Amphitrite, who dwells with his parents in a
golden palace at the bottom of the sea. He usu-
ally figures as an attendant on his father, riding
over the Mediterranean on a horse or other sea-
mon.ster, and soothing tlie turbulent waves by
blowing his shell-trumpet — his " wreathed horn,''
as Wordsworth calls it. The later poets speak of
Tritons, in the plural, as a race of subordinate sea-
deities, who were frequently represented in works
of art.
TROMSOE, a small island on the northwest
coast of Norway, in Finmark, between the island
Kvalij and the mainland. It is four miles long and
about a mile and a half broad. On the eastern side
of the island is the small but thriving town of the
same name, the seat of a bishop. Russian vessels
from Archangel and the White Sea visit this town,
and bring corn, which they exchange for dried
fish. Population, about 3.000.
TRON, or Troke Weight, the most ancient
system of weight used in Scotland, so called from
trone, a species of heavy beam or balance set up in
the market-place, and employed for the weighing
of heavy wares. The weights employed in the
public markets formed the most convenient ref-
erence, and consequently tron weight became the
standard. The tron pound contained twenty
ounces, but from the custom of giving " one in '"
to the score, was always reckoned at twenty-one
ounces; this was the most general value ; but it
varied in the different market-towns between
this and twenty-eight ounces. The later tron
■ stone or standard weight contains sixteen tron
pounds, each pound sixteen tron ounces, and
each tron ounce sixteen drops; the tron pound
is estimated to be equivalent to 1.3747 pounds
avoirdupois.
TROOP, in cavalry, the unit of formation, form-
ing the command of a captain, consisting usually
of sixty troopers, and corresponding to a com-
pany of infantry. The officers of a troop are the
captain, lieutenant and cornet. Two troops form
a squadron.
TROPE (Gr. tropos, a" change, "a " turning "),
the name of a figure of speech which does not
appear to differ from metaphor.
TROPHY, a memorial of victory erected on the
spot where the enemy had turned to flight.
Among the Greeks (with the exception of the
M.acedoniaus, who erected no trophies), one or
two shields and helmets of the routed enemy,
placed upon the trunk of a tree, served as the
sign and memorial of victory. After a sea-fight,
the trophy consisted of the beaks and stern-orna-
ments of the captured vessels, set up on the near-
est coast. In early times the Romans never
! erected trophies on the field, but decorated the
buildings at Rome with the spoils of the van-
quished. Of this practice we have a fiimiliar
instance in the rostra or beaks set up in the
forum. In later times pillars and triumphal arches
were employed to commemorate victories. Be-
sides these, in modern times, the humiliation of
an enemy is rendered la.sting by such devices as
the bridge of Jena, of Waterloo, and by the dis-
tribution of captured cannon.
TROUT, the popular name of many species of
the geims Salmo. as characterized by Cuvier. The
name is given to some of the silvery species mi-
grating to the sea, and to all the yellow species,
which constantly inhabit fresh waters. Trouts
are found in almost all the lakes and rivers of the
temperate and colder parts of the Northern hemis-
phere. The Common Trout {Salmo fario or Salar
Ausonii) is widely diffused in the Eastern hemis-
phere. It is found even in very small streams,
and almost to their mountain sources, but attain.s
its largest size where there is considerable depth
of water and abundance of food. The head of the
Common Trout is large; the eye large; the gen-
eral form symmetrical, stouter than that of the
salmon, the convexity of the outline of the back
nearly similar to that of the belly; the tail is
slightly forked; the teeth numerous and curved.
The color is yellow, but the tint varies much in the
trout of different waters, sometimes passing into
greenish-black or violet. On the back and upper
part of the sides there are spots of black and red;
the belly is .silvery white. The fins are light-
brown; the dorsal fin and tail with nimierous
darker brown spots. America has numerous spe-
cies. One of them, the Common Brook Trout or
Speckled Trout (Salmo fontinalis), is .similar to the
Common Trout. It abounds in the streams of
Canada, and in the northern and middle parts of
the United States. The North American Lake
Trout (Salmo confinis) inhabits the deepest waters
of the great lakes, and sometimes nttainsa weight
of more than sixty pounds. It is dark-colored,
mottled with grayish spots. The finest species in
quality, as well as largest in size, is the IMackinaw
Trout, or Xamaycush (Salmo amethi/stus, or na-
maycnsh). It is found in Lake Huron, Lake Supe-
rior and the more northern lakes. The Red-bellied
Trout (Salmo. or Fario eriithrogaster) of the lakes
of New York and Pennsylvania, sometimes two
and one-half feet in length, is deep greenish on the
1510
T R 0 U V E R E — T E U C K FARMING.
back, lighter on the sides, which are spotted with
red, the belly orange-red.
TROr VERE, the name given in Xorthern France
to the same kind of courtly or polished poet who,
in Southern France was called a Troubadour.
TROT, a citv of Xew York. Population in 1890,
60,956. See Britannica, Vol. XXIII, p. .590.
TROY, a town, the county-seat of Miami
county, Ohio, on Great Miami River and Miami
Canal. It has abundant water-power, flour-mills,
wagon-factories, and an extensive trade. Popula-
tion in 1890, 4,.590.
TRUCKEE, a village in Xevada county, Cal..
near the crest of the Sierra, at an elevation of
about 6,000 feet. It has extensive .saw-mills and
lumber manufactories, run by the water-power of
the Truckee River. It is in the vicinity of Donner
Lake and Lake Tahoe. In winter snow falls to a
great depth.
TRUCK FARMIXG IX THE UNITED
STATES. The United States census .statistics
taken in 1890, showed that over $100,000,000 was
invested in truck farming, and that after paying
all freights and commis.sions, trucking received
about $75,000,000 for the produce of 1889. The
total cost of labor, manures, seeds, etc., amounted
to about $24,000,000, leaving about $52,000,000 as
net profit. The acreage covered by the truck
crops aggregated 535.000 acres. Over 200,000 men,
about 10,000 women and 15,000 children were em-
ployed, receiving for their labor nearly $10,000,000.
Seventy -six thousand horses and mules, and $9,-
000,000 worth of machines and other implements
were required.
Truck farming is not market gardening as this
special business is carried on, but it is ordinary
farming devoted to the heavier class of products
upon a much less exteu.sive system than the truly
garden culture of the grower of vegetables and
fruits, who is especially a market gardener. Truck
farming is market farming as distinguished from
the higher culture of the gardener who con-
fines him.self to a few acres in the immediate
vicinity, or within the actual bounds of a large
town or a city. The market gardener works on land
which costs $2,000 or .$3,000 an acre, or for which
he pays as annual rent a sum equal to the whole
value of an acre of a suburban farm. The market
farmer works on a farm and devotes only a part of
his time and labor to the truck which he grows.
He is usually a dairyman or a fruit grower, and de-
votes less or more of his available land to the
heavier class of vegetables which can be grown in
fields. The following list of products will give an
idea of his crops :
Acres.
Aspai-agus .37,970
Beans 12.707
Cab bagp 77,094
Kale 2,962
Spinach 20,195
lri.sh potatoes 28.046
Beets 2.420
Celery 15.381
Cacumbers 4,721
Watermelons lU-ISl
Other melons 28.477
Peas 56, 162
Sweet potatoes 28.621
Tomat«fs 12.802
Miscellaneous vegetables .S2.601
Total A...., 534.540
Truck fanning is carried on in the vicinity of
every city, town and village of the whole United
States. In some states, as in Florida, New Jersey,
the eastern part of Pennsylvania, Illinois for the
whole length of the state, in Maryland, North
Carolina, and in Xew York, especially in Long
Island, in Michigan and even in Kansas, whence
celery is now shipped to Xew York City, this
industry covers ceitainly a million acres of land.
Sweet corn alone occupies around the city of Xew
York at least 10.000 acres of land, and one smaU
town near that city alone has sent out every even-
ing for years past no less than 150 wagons loaded
with this kind of truck in the height of the season.
The list of the districts in which this business is
carried on is thus given, with the annual value of
the produce:
l>l;^TKM■TS.
Acres.
Value of
Products.
Xew England ...
6.838
108.135
25.714
45.375
37.181
lli;441
36,180
36,889
107,414
1.083
3.&33
$ 3,184,218
21,102..521
2 413 648
Norfolk
4 (i9'' 859
Baltimore
3 7H4 6%
13,183.516
Mississippi T:il]pv
4,982,567
4,979,783
15,432,223
204,791
Mountain
5.^r97B
Pacific Coast
14 .■!57 I 2 024 345
Total
534450 $76,517,143
Every village of two hundred or three hundred
people offers a market for farm products of this
kind and small fruits. In most of these small
communities it is supposed that the villagers grow
their own supplies in their own gardens. Ex-
perience in this direction has shown that this is
far from being the exact case, and that on the
contrary the village gardens are rarely productive
enough to satisfy their owners ; that the crops
grown are late, and not of tine quality, and that if
vegetables and fruits fresh from the farms are
oflered they will be eagerly taken. A case in point
may be referred to. A farmer, whose land adjoined
a village of about 500 people, had a surplus of
strawberries in his garden which he wished to
dispose of. He picked a dozen quarts and sent a
boy into the village to sell them. In an hour the
boy had returned, and wanted more. That day
more than 100 quarts were sold. Some of the
purchasers wanted cream, and the demand for
this was supplied at a price equal to twice the
value of the butter. The result was that a market
was found for asparagus, early cabbages, cauli-
flowers (not one of which was gi-own in the village),
tomatoes, and other truck, and gradually the
farmer was obliged to put several acres of his land
in these crops to meet the demands of this little
village. The income from this source l)ecarae
larger than that from the rest of the farm, which
had been previously wholly devoted to the dairy.
But it is not only the residents of villages who
will purchase truck of this kind. A milk dairy-
man may sell to farmers along his route many
products which they do not grow. Celery, aspara-
gus, cauliflowers, early cabbages, and sweet corn
may find many purchasers among dinners who
T i; r L L A X — TRTSTS.
1511
think tbese trilies are beneath their notice, and
cjive their attention to the Uirge crops. Some of
the most prosperous fanners belong to this class of
truckers, giving their sole attention to potatoes,
muskmelons, tomatoes, celery, onions, cabbages,
etc.. and thus make their small farms turn out
from $l!00 upward per acre, and, becomuig known
for the excellence of their products, their honesty
in dealing, and the certainty of supply, make
permanent business connections, and sell their
products without the least difficulty. This subject
is well worth the attentive study of farmers who
are complaining of the paucity of tlieir profits.
TRFLLAX, "the name (derived from the hall —
6r. trouUos — of the palace in which the Fathers
assembled) given to the council, also called Qiiin-
isext.
TRUST COMPANIES, financial corporations
which are authorized to receive money on deposit
and pay interest thereon, and also to receive se-
curities and other personal property from indi-
viduals or corporations, and loan money on real
estate and collateral or personal securities. They
may also act as the fiscal agents of states, munici-
palities or corporations, and in such capacity
receive and disburse money, and transfer, register,
and countersign certificates of stocks, bonds, or
other evidence of indebtedness. They also act as
trustees under mortgages given by corporations,
and accept and execute any other municipal or
corporate trusts not inconsistent with law. The
charters of such companies are obtained through
the state Legislature, and as a rule contain the
broadest of powers. But in the state of New
York, since 1887, they are organized under a
general law, which, however, is not applicable to
companies previou.sly chartered by special acts of
the Legi-slature. The affairs of trust companies
are managed by directors or trusstees, elected
annually by their stockholders. These officials
are generally forbidden from borrowing the moneys
or securities of the corporation. The capital of
• these companies varies from $100,000 to $2,000,000,
and must be invested in bonds and mortgages,
or designated public securities.
TRUSTS. Organizations for the control of sev-
eral corporations under one direction by the device
of a transfer by the stockholders in each corpora-
tion of at least a majority of the stock to a central
committee or board of trustees, which issues in
return to such stockholders respectively, certificates
showing in effect that, although they have parted
with their stock and the consequent voting power,
they are still entitled to dividends or to their share
in the profits — the object being to enable the trust-
ees to elect directors in all the corporations, to
control and suspend at pleasure the work of any
of them, and thus to economize expenses, regulate
production, and defeat competition. In a looser
sense, the term " trust " is applied to any com-
bination of establishments in the same line of
business for securing the same ends, by holding
the individual interests of each subservient to a
common authority for the common interests of all.
It is against public pohcy for a stockholder to
divest himself of his voting power; hence, such a
transfer of stock, if made, is revocable at the
pleasure of the maker. So far as the object of such a
combination is shown to be the control of prices of,
and the prevention of competition in, the necessaries
or conveniences of life, it is held to be a criminal
act upon the principles which rendered engrossing
and forestalling punishable; and a corporation,
which by corporate act. surrenders its powers to
the control of a trust, thereby att'ords ground for a
forfeiture of its charter by the state.
Anti-Trust Legislation by Congress. The
LI. Congress of the United States adopted an
important Anti-Trust Act, as follows:
The act provides that every contract, combina-
tion iu the form of trust or othervrise, or conspir-
acy, in restraint of trade or commerce among the
several states, or with foreign nations, is hereby
declarea to be illegal. Every person who .shall
make any such contract or engage in any such
combination or conspiracy shall be deemed guilty
of a misdemeanor, and, on conviction thereof,
shall be punished by fine not exceeding five
thousand dollars, or by imprisonment not exceed-
ing one year, or by both said punishments, in the
discretion of the court.
See. '2. Every persoa who shall mouopolize. oi attempt to
monopolize, or combine or conspire witli any other person or
persons, to monopolize any part of the trade or commerce
among the several states, or with foreign nations, shall be
deemed gnilty of a misdemeanor, and, on conviction thereof,
shall be punished bv tine not exceeding five thousand dollars,
or by imprisonment not exceeding one year, or by both said
punisliments, in the discretion of the court.
See. 3. Every contract, combination iu form of trust or
otherwise, or conspiracy, in restraint of trade or commerce in
any territory of the United States or of the District of Col-
umbia, or in restraint of trade or commerce between any such
ten'itory and another, or between any such territory or ter-
ritories and any state or states or the District of Columbia,
or with foreign nations, or between the District of Columbia
and any state or states or foreign nations, is hereby declared
illegal. Every person who shall make any such contract or
engage in any such combination or conspiracy, shall be
deemed guilty of a misdemeanor, and, on conviction thereof,
shall be punished by fine not exceeding five thousand dollars,
or by imprisonment not exceeding one year, or by both said
pum'shments, in the discretion of the court.
See, 4, The several Circuit Courts of the United States are
hereby invested with jurisdiction to prevent and restrain vio-
lation's of this act: and it shall be the duties of the several
district attorneys of the United States, in their respective
districts, under the direction of the attorney general, to m-
stitute proceedings in equity to prevent and restrain such
violations. Such proceedings may be by way of petition
setting forth the case and praying that such violation shall be
enjoined or otherwise prohibited. When the parties com-
plaimed of shall have deen didy notified of such petition, the
court shall proceed, as soon as may be, to the hearing and
determination of the case: and pending such petition and
before final decree, the eourtmay at any time make such tem-
porary restraining order or prohibition as shall be deemed
just in the premises.
Sec. 5, Whenever it shall appear to the court before which
any proceeding under Section 4 of this act may be pending,
that the ends of justice require that other parties should be
brought before the court, the court mav cause them to be
summoned, whether they reside in the district in which the
court is held or not, and "subpcenas to that cud may be served
in any district by the marshal thereof
Sec, 0, Any property owned under any contract or by any
combination, or pursuant to any conspiracy land being the
subject thereof) mentioned in Section 1 of this act, and being
in the course of transportation from one state to another, or
to a foreign country, shall be foiieited to the United States,
and may be seized andcondemned hy like proceedings a.s those
provided by law for the forfeiture, seizure and condemnation
of property imported into the United States contrary to law.
Sec, 7, Any person who shall be injured in his business or
property by any other person or corporation by reason of any-
thing forbidden or declared to be unlawful by this act may sue
therefor in any Circuit Court of the United States in the dis
trict in which the defendant resides or is found, without
respect to the amount in controversy, and shall recover throe-
fold the damages by him sustained, and the costs of suit, in-
cluding a reasonable attorney's fee.
Sec. 8, That the word "person," or "persons,'' wherever
1512
TKYSAIL — TUPPER
nsed in this act shall be deemed to include coi-porations and
associations existing under or authorized by the laws of either
the United States, the laws of any of the territories, the laws
of any state, or the laws of any foreign country.
The above bill, when reported by a committee
of conference, passed both houses without a
division.
TKVSAIL. a small fore-and-aft sail, mounted by
a cutter or schooner in a srorm, when the wind is
too violent for her to carry her ordinary canvas.
TUBICOL^E, an order of Annelida, having a
tubular shelly coverins;. into \\ hich the animal can
retreat, but from which, when undisturbed and
dispo.sed to activity, it projects its head and gill-
luft.^. The genus Serpula is a good example.
TCCKER, Henet St. George, member of
tJongress, born in Virginia in 1853. He was ed-
ucated at Washington and Lee Univensity, grad-
uating in 1875; has practiced law continuously
since; was elected to Congress in 1889, and re-
elected in 1891.
TUCSON, a citv of Arizona. Population in
1890, 5,095. See Britannica, Vol. XXIII, p. G04.
TCDOR STYLE, in architecture, a rather in-
definite term applied to the late Perpendicidar,
and the transition from that to the Elizabethan.
TUESDAY, the third day of the week, so called
from Thvesd(f'(j, the ilay of Tiw or Tin, the old
Saxon name for the god of war. The day bears a
corresponding name in the other Germanic di-
TUFTS COLLEGE. See Colleges axd Uni-
versities IN United States in these Revisions
and Additions.
TULIP TREE, often called Tulip Poplar,
(Liriodendron tuUpifirn), a beautiful tree of the
natural order Magnolmceff, a native of the United
States, having a stem sometimes 100 to 140 feet
high, and 3 feet thick, with a grayish-brown
cracked bark, and many gnarled branches. The
leaves are ovate, and three-lobed; the flowers sol-
itary at the extremities of the branchlets. The
bark has a bitter, aromatic taste, and in some parts
of the basin of the Mississippi it forms considerable
tracts of the forest.
TUNBRIDGE-WARE, a pretty kind of manu-
facture in wood, carried on at Tuubridge Wells.
It consists of small articles, such as ladies' work-
boxes, etc., which are covered with a veneer char-
acteristic of this industry; it is formed by building
up a geometric pattern with very small strips of
wood of a triangular or square shape in transverse
sections; these are carefully glued together so as
to form a solid mass, from which thin transverse
veneers are cut, and are used to cover the articles
made. This trade was formerly of much greater
importance than at present.
TUNIS, a country of northern Africa. For gen-
eral article on Tunis see Britannica, Vol. XXIII,
pp. 019-623. Tunis was acquired by France in
1881. It has an estimated area of 45,000 square
miles, and a population of about 1 ,500,000.
TUNNELS IN AMERICA. Among the prom-
inent tunnels in this country we mention the fol-
lowing :
1. The HoosAC Tunnel, on the railway from
Boston, Mass., to Troy, N. Y., is four and three-
fourths miles long, reaching through the Hoosac
Mountain, which is a part of the Green Mountain
Range. It was begun in 1862 and finished in 1880.
This timnel cost the state of Massachusetts about
eighteen millions of dollars: but the state sold it
in 1887, together with forty-four miles of railroad,
to the Fitchburg Railroad Company for five mill-
ions of dollars in bonds and five millions of dollars
in stock.
2. A Tunnel through the Cascade Range,
in the state of Washington, 9,850 feet long, was
built from 1886 to 18S8, for a single ti-ack railroad.
3. The Big Bend Tunnel of Butte county, Cal.,
Is two miles long, and was built from 1882 to 1887,
in order to reach some auriferous regions in the
valley of the Feather River. It diverts the water
of this river from its present channel and carries
it through a mountain.
4. The Chicago Tunnel, built from 1864 to 1876,
runs from the foot of a land-shaft at Chicago two
miles undei' Lake Michigan to the foot of a shaft
in the lake. The lake-shaft is protected by a
pentagonal crib or breakwater, forty feet high.
This tunnel supplies the city of Chicago with
water.
5. The SuTRO Tunnel, built from 1869 to 1879,
runs 20.000 feet into the mountain in which the
Comstock mine is situated, near the town of
Virginia City, Nev. It drains and ventilates a
number of important mines.
6. A Tunnel at Port Huron, Mich., some
miles above Detroit, under the St. Clair River, is
one and one-fourth miles in length, and large
enough for a single track railroad.
7. A Tunnel under the Hudson River, con-
necting New York City with New Jersey, is in
the course of construction, aud approaches com-
pletion now (October, 1891).
TUPELO (Nyssa), a genus of trees of the nat-
ural order Cornnce^, natives of North America,
chiefly of the middle and southern parts of the
United States; having simple alternate leaves,
mostly entire, greenish inconspicuous flowers at
the extremity of long stalks, the fruit a drupe. N.
multiflora attains a height of 60 to 70 feet. It is
often called Sour Gum Tree. N. tomentosa, the
Large Tupelo is a lofty and beautiful tree, remark-
able for the extraordinary enlargement of the base
of the trunk, which is sometimes 8 or 9 feet in di-
ameter, while at no great height the diameter
diminishes to 15 or 20 inches. The fruit re.sem-
bles a small olive, and is preserved in the same
way by the French settlers in America. N. candi-
cans or capitata, the Ogechee Lime or Sour Gum
Tree, is a small tree, of which the fruit Is very
acid, and is used like that of the lime. The wood
of all the species is soft, that of the large tupelo
remarkably so.
TUPELO, a prosperous and growing town of
Mississippi, in the eastern part of the state, on the
line of the Mobile and Ohio Railroad.
TUPPER, Sir Charles, high commissioner for
Canada in London, born at Amherst, Nova Scotia,
July, 1821. He was educated in Edinburgh for
the medical profession, and was the first president
of the Canadian Medical Association. He entered
politics, and became prime minister of his native
pro\incp in 1864 ; was a strong advocate of confed-
eration, and wrote a " Letter to the Earl of Car-
narvon on the Union question," in 1866; became
cabinet minieter of the Dominion in 18(0, and
held oflice with Sir John Macdonald till 1873; was
one of the leaders of the Conservative opposition
T U P P E R — T r R K E Y
1518
till 1878. ■when he was again appointed minister, i
As minister of railways he took the chief part in I
advocating throughout Canada the construction
of the Canadian I'acitic Railway, and took charge
of the measure in parliament. He received his
present ap{)ointment in 1SS4. Accompanied Mr. I
Chamberlain to Washington as Canadian repre-
sentative during the fishery negotiation in 18SS,
and for his services was created a baronet.
TCPPER. Martin F.. an English author, born
in ISIO. died in 1SS9. His principal work was
Prorerbial Philosophy.
TURKEY. Empire of. For general article on
Turkey see Britannica. Yol. XXIII. pp. 64S-6.57.
The latest estimated area and population of Tur-
key are as follows: Area (including .states nom-
inallv snl>iect), 1, 652.542 square miles: population.
33,360,000. viz.:
Turker in Europe
Turkey in Asia . .
Turkey in Africa*
Bulgafiaf
Bo^at
Samos
Egypt
Total
Square MUe«. Popolalion.
63.850
4.790.000
729.170
16.133.900
:»8.873
1.000.000
37.860
3,1.54.375
•23.570
1.5O4.091
210
41.156
400.000
6.817.265
1,653.533 83,440,787
I
The estimated populations of the other largest
towns are as follows: Adrianople. 100,000 : Salon-
icu, 60.000 . Monastir, 4.5.000 ; Scutari, 30,000
Janina. 20,000: Smvma. 200.000: Damascus
200,000: Bagdad. iSO.OOO: Aleppo. 120,000
Erzeroum, 60.000: Kaisarieh, 60,000: Mosul
45,000; Sana. .50.000: Sivas, 48,000: Mecca
45.000; Trebizond, 45,000; Adana, 45.000
Diarbekir. 40,000: Broussa, 35,700; Angora
30.000; Yan, 30,000: Jedda, 30.000; Jerusalem
28.000; Konieh. 25.000: Chios, 25,000; Bitlis
25,000; Canea. 1.5,000: Tripoli, 30,000.
Ethnological Statistics. In the European
provinces under immediate Turkish rule. Turks
(of Finno-Tataric race), Greeks and Albanians
are almost equally numerous, and constitute 70 per
cent, of the population. Other races represented
are Serbs, Bulgarians, Roumanians, Armenians,
Magyars. Gypsies, Jews. Circassians. In Asiatic
Turkey there is a large Turkish element, with
some four million Arabs, besides Greeks, Syrians,
Kurds, Circassians, Armenians, Jews and numerous
other races. The following are the returns for
Constantinople, arranged in order of religious be-
Uefs, viz.:
Mussulmans, 384,910: Greeks, 152,741; Armen-
ians, 149,.590: Bulgarians, 4.377. Roman Catholics
(native). 6,442: Greek Latins, 1,082: Protestants
(native), 819; Jews, 44.361; Foreigners, 129,243.
Total. 873..565. -
CoNSTiTCTiox AXD GovERXiTENT. The legis-
lative and executive authority is, under the su-
preme authority of the Sidtan, exercised by two
high dignitaries, the " Sadr-azm, " or Grand
Vizier, the head of the temporal government, and
the " Sheik-ul-Islam. " the head of the church.
* Tripoli.
t Including Eastern Eonmelia.
X Including Herzegovina and JTovibazar. a tributair prin-
cipality.
Both are appointed "by the Sultan, the latter with
the nominal concurrence of the " Ulema," a body
comprising the clergy and chief functionaries of
the law, over which the " Sheik-ul-Islam" pre-
sides, although he himself does not exercise
priestly functions. Connected with the •' Ulema"
are the ■' Mufti." the interpreters of the Koran.
The Ulema comprise all the great judges, theo-
logians and jurists, and the great teachers of
literature and science who may be summoned by
the Mufti. The principal civic functionaries bear
the titles of Efleudi, Bey or Pasha.
Forms of constitution, after the model of the
West European States, were drawn up at various
periods by successive Ottoman governments, the
lirst of them embodied in the " Hatti-Humayouu "
of Sultan Abdul-Medjid, proclaimed Feb. IS', 1856,
and the most recent in a decree of Sultan Abdul-
Hamid II., of November, 1876. But the carrying
out of these projects of reform appears entirely
impossible in the present condition of the Ottoman
empire.
The Grand Yizier, as head of the government
and representative of the .sovereign, is president
of the Medjliss-i-Hass, or Privy Council, which
corresponds to the British Cabinet. The Medjliss-
i-Hass consists of the following members, besides
the Prime Minister, namely: 1. The Sheik-ul-
Islam; 2. The Minister of the Interior; 3. The
Minister of Foreign Affiiirs; 4. The Minister of
War; 5. The Minister of Finance; 6. The Minister
of Marine; 7. The Minister of Commerce: 8. The
Minister of Public Works: 9. The Minister of Jus
tice: 10. The Minister of Public Instruction; 11.
The Minister of Evkaf {fondations piemes): 12.
The President of the Council of State; 13. The
Grand Master of Artillery.
The whole of the empire is divided into vilayets,
or governments, and subdivided into sanjaks, or
provinces, and kazas, or districts. A vali, or
governor-general, who is held to represent the
sultan, and is assisted by a provincial council, is
placed at the head of each vilayet. The provinces
and districts are subjected to inferior authorities,
under the superintendence of the principal gov-
ernor. The division of the country into vilayets
has been frequently modified of late for political
reasons. All .subjects, however humble their
origin, are eligible to, and may fill, the highest
offices in the state.
Under the capitulations, foreigners residing in
Turkey are under the laws of their respective
countries, and are amenable for trial (in cases in
which Turkish subjects are not concerned), to a
tribunal presided over by their consul. Foreigners
who own real property, are amenable to the Otto-
man civil courts in questions relative to their
landed property.
Present Reigntxg Sultan and Family.
Abdul-Hamid II., born Sept. 22, 1S42, the second
son of Sultan Abdul-Medjid. He succeeded to
the throne on the deposition of elder brother.
Sultan Mnrad Y, Aug. 31, 1876.
Children of the Sultan.— -J. Mehemmed-SeUm
EflFendi, bom Jan. 11, 1S70. II. Zekie Sultana,
born Jan. 12, 1871. III. Xaime Sultana, bom
Aug. 5. 1876. IV. Abdnl-Kadir Effendi, bora
Feb. 23, 1878. Y. Ahmed Efleudi. born March 14,
1878. YI. Xaile Sultana, born 1883. YII.
^lehemmed Burhaneddin Eflendi, bom 1885.
1514
'1- r R K K V .
Brothers ami Sisters of the Sultan. — I. Mi ihiimnied
Murad Effendi, burn Sept. "21, 1840: proclaimed
Sultan of Turkey on the deposition of his uucle,
Sultan Abdul-Aziz, May 30, 1876; declared by
the council of ministers to be suffering from
idiocy, and deposed from the throne Aug. 31.
1876. II. Djemilii Sultana, born Aug. 18, ISl.J:
married, June 3, 18.58, to Mahmoud-Djelal-Eddin
Pasha, son of Ahmet Feti Pasha. III. Mehem-
med-ReshadEflendi. born Nov. 3, 1814: lieir-appa-
rent to the throne. 1 V. Medihie Sultana, born Nov.
21, 1851 ; married to the late Mabmud Pasha, sou
ofHalilPasha. V. Suleiman Effendi. born Nov. 21,
1860. TI. Fehime Sultana, born Jan. 26, 1861.
VII. Wahieddin Effendi. born Jan. 12. 1862.
The present sovereign of Turkey is the thirty-
fourth, ia male descent, of the house of Othmau,
the founder of the empire, and the twenty-eighth
sultan since the conquest of Constantinople. By
the law of succession obeyed in the reigning family,
the crown is inherited according to seniority tjy
tlie male descendants of Othman, sprung from the
Imperial Harem. The harem is considered a
permanent state institution. All children bt)rn in
the harem, whetlier offspring of free women or of
slaves, are legitimate a"nd of equal lineage. The
sultan is succeeded by his eldest son, but only in
case there are no uncleS or cousins of greater age.
It has not been the custom of the sultans of
Turkey for some centuries to contract regular mar-
riages. The inmates of the harem come, by pur-
chase or free will, mostly from districts beyond
the limits of the empire, the majority from Cir-
cassia. From among these inmates the sultan
designates a certain number, generally seven, to
be "Kadyn." or ladies of the palace, the rest,
called ''Odalik," remahiing under them as serv-
ants. The superintendent of the harem, always
an aged lady of the palace, and bearing the title
of " Haznadar-Kadyn," has to keep up inter-
course with the outer world through the guard of
eunuchs, whose chief, called •' Kyzlar- Agassi,"
has the same rank as the grand vizier, but has
the precedence if present on state occasions.
The civillist of the Sultan is variously reported at
from one, to two millions sterling. To thf impe-
rial family belong a great number of crown do-
mains, the income from which contributes to the
revenue. The tinances of the ciril list have of late
been put into order, but are still reported to beiu-
Ruflicient to cover the expenditure of the court
and harem, numbering altogether over five
thousand individuals. The amount charged to
the budget of 1880 was P. 62,747,116 for the palace,
and P. 23,750,212 for the crown princes. Total,
about £785,000, or $3,925,000.
REVEXUES, EXPESDIXrEE.S AND NATIOXAL
Debt. The revenue for 1889 was estimated at
$92,500,000; expenditures, $107,000,000. The total
national cousolitated debt in 1888 was $450,-
543,900, drawing about 4 per cent, interest.
Army and Navy. The standing army in 1891
was composed of 264 battalions of infantry, 189
squadrons of cavalry, 104 batteries field artillery,
36 batteries mountain and 29 battalions garrison
artillery, 4 battalions infantry t-^aiu, 14 Itattalions
of artificers, 3 battalions fire brigade, 22 compa-
nies of engineers, 2 sanitary companies, and 1
telegraph company, with a total numerical force
of 9,810 ofiBcers and 149,000 men
According to the existing system, the army con-
sists of the nizam or regular army, two bans of
redif or landwehr, and the raustahflz or land-
.sturm. Non-Mahommedans are not liable to
military .service, but have to pay an exemption
tax,al>out six shillings per head per annum, levied
alike on males of all ages. Military service is
compulsory on all able-bodied Mahnmmedans who
have reached the age of twenty. By the recruit-
ing law of 1887 military service is rendered
oliligatory for all the Mussulman population of the
empire, excepting only Constantinople and its
suburbs, which still retains its privilege of exemp-
tion from military service.
The conscripts are divided into two classes;
1. Those who can claim no reason for exemption.
2. Those who are infirm, sole supports of fam-
ilies, or who are exempt for various special reasons.
The first class is again divided into two classes,
called fir.st and second levies (tertib).
As many men as are required to fill the ranks of
the standing army are taken for the first levy, and
go through twenty years' service, six with the
nizam and first reserve (Ikhtiyats), eight years in
the redif. and six in the mnstahfiz or landsturm.
The men of the second levy have to undergo .six
to nine months' drill with a nizam battalion in the
first year of their service, and thirty days' drill at
their homes in every subsequent year. They are
al.so lialile on emergency to be called to join the
nizam. Thus all the able-bodied Mahommedan
population will receive a fair amount of military
training, and it is expected that when the system
is in working order, the Ottoman government will
be able to put at least 800,000 tr;iined men into
the field.
The navy on Jan. 1, 1891. consisted of fifteen
large armor-clad ships, a river monitor, two river
gim-boats, twenty-seven sea-going torpedo boats,
two submarine boats, one torpedo school-ship, two
frigates, one spardecked corvette, eleven dispatch
vessels and yachts, and six dispatch boats.
The largest armor-clad ships of the Turki.sh
navy are the two frigates, the Mesoudiye and the
Hamidieh. These two frigates were built on some-
what similar designs, but the Hamidieh is the
smaller. The Mesoudiye is 332 feet long, with
extreme breadth of 59 feet. She is constructed on
the central battery principle, and has on the main
deck a 12-gun battery, 148 feet long, the armor-
plates of which are 12 inches thick at, and 10
inches thick above, the water-line. The bow also
is strongl) fortified, and fitted with a ram of great
strength, adapted to pierce an opponent below the
armor in the most vulnerable part. Forward,
under the forecastle, were two 6i-ton guns, firing
ahead, and under the poop aft was one gun of the
same caliber, but these have been removed for
smaller Krupp guns.
For the ruivy of 'I'urkey the crews are raised in
the same manner as the land forces, partly by
conscription, and partly by voluntary enlistment.
The time of service in the navy is twelve years,
five in active service, three in the reserve, and four
in the redif. The nominal strength of the navy
is 6 vice-admirals, 11 rear-admirals, 208 captains,
289 vice-captains, 228 lieutenants, 187 ensigns, and
30.000 sailors, besides 9,460 marines. The budget
of 1880 estimates the expenses for the maintenance
of the navy ;ir $81,154,650 piastres. '
T U R K M A N 8 H A I — T U S C A II 0 K A S
1515
Custom Duties. All articles of import into Tur-
key are taxed S per cent, ad valorem, except to-
bacco and salt, which are monopolies: there is also
au export duty of 1 per cent, on nativt' produce if
sent abroad, but of S per cent, if sent from one part
of the empire to another.
Turkey negotiated in 1S90 a new treaty of com-
merce with til eat Britain and some of the other pow-
ers, and it proposed removing the export custom ]
dutyof Iperceut., and building bonded warehouses ;
in some of the principal seaport towns of theem{)ire.
Articles destined for schools, churches, em-
bassies, consulates, as well as agricultural machines
iind the plant for raihvavs are free of dutv. |
The imports in 18S9 aggregated !i!87,55-4,940; j
the exports, $61,539,595. The balance of trade,
therefore, was against Turkev to the amount of
^"26,015,345.
Commerce and Shippixg. The mercantile |
navy of the Turkish empire, according to Lloyd's
Kegister, in 1890 consisted of 94 steamers (each of
100 tons or upward) of 71,607 gross tons, and 813
sailing vessels of 158,170 tons.
In 1888-89 (March to February) the Ottoman
ports of the ilediterrancan and Black Sea were
visited bv 177,150 vessels of 31,319,3.54 tons, those
of the Red Sea by 3,612 vessels of 435,309 tons,
and those of the Persian Gulf by 1,201 vessels of
179.007 tons. Constantinople alone was visited
by 30,057 vessels of 11,001.875 tons.
In 1888-89 (March 1 to February 28) 15.819
vessflsof 10,400,363 tons entered the Dardanelles;
of these 6,444 vessels of 7,034,837 tons were
Briti.sh.
In 1889, 5oi vessels of 272,019 tons entered the
port of Tripoli.
TURKMAXSHAI, a village of Azerbijau, sixty-
five miles southeast of Tabriz, the place where, on
Feb. 22, 1828, was concluded the treaty between
Persia and Russia, by which the former resigned to
the latter the provinces of Erivan and Xakchevan.
TURNAU, a walled town of Bohemia, circle of
Jung-Bunzlau, on the east bank of the Iser, fifty
miles northeast of Prague. It has a church, built
in 1825, which is reckoned one of the most beauti-
ful in Bohemia. Turnau has manufactories of cot-
ton, woolens, and more particularly of artificial
gems, which are exported in great quantities to
the United States. Population, 4,700. Here was
fought (July, 1866) a battle between the Prussians
and Austrians, in which the former were vic-
torious'.
TURNER, CHAELE.S !!., member of Congress,
born in Xi w Hampshire in 1801. He removed to
New York in 1879; was employed for six mouths
on the elevated railroad; drove an ice-wagon for
two years; entered the class of 1886 in Columbia
College, and pursued a course of two years; after
leaving college re-engaged in the ice business, and
continued therein till he became a candidate in
1888 for state senator; was a member of Congress
from 1889 to 1891.
TURNER, Erastu.s J., member of Congress,
born in Pennsylvania in 1846. He attended college
at Henry, Illinois, from 1856 to 1860; enlisted in a
regiment of Iowa infantry in 1864, and remained
till the close of the war; was a student at Adrian
College, Michigan, from 1866 to 1868; was ad-
mitted to the bar in 1871; removed to Kansas in
1879; was elected a member of the Legislature in
4
1881 and re-elected in 1883; was elected secretary
of the Kansas Board of Railroad Commissioner.?
April 1, 1883, which position he resigned August
1, 1886, to accept the nomination for Congress;
was a member of Congress from 1887 to 1891.
TURNER, Henry G., born in North Carolina
March 20. 1839. He was elected to Congress in
1881, and has been continuously re-elected; his
present term expires in 1893.
TURXEK, Sharon, the Anglo-Saxon historian,
born in Loudon, Sept. 24, 1768, died in 1847.
After years of hard reading and patient collection
of materials he published, 1799-1805, a History of
the Anglo- S(txons, in three xolumes, a work, witii
all its imperfections, that has given its author a
permanent place in English literature. He also
wrote numerous other historical works.
TURNPIKE STAIR, a turret stair revolving
round a central newel.
TURPIE, David, Unitwl States senator, born
in Ohio in 1829. He studied law and was admitted
to practice at Logansport, Ind., in '1849; was
appointed liy Governor Wright, whom he suc-
ceeded in the Senatt-, judge of the Court of Com-
mon Pleas in 18.54, and was .judge of the Circuit
Court in 1856 ; in 1853, and aiso in 1858, he was a
member of the Legislature of Indiana ; in 1863
was elected a senator to Congress for the unex-
pired term of Jesse D. Bright, and immediately
succeeding Joseph A. Wright, who served by
appointment of the governor; was elected a mem-
ber of the House of Representatives of the General
Assembly of Indiana, and served as speaker of
that body, 1874-5; in 1878 was appointed one of
the three commissioners to revise the laws of
Indiana, serving as such three years; in August,
1886, was appointed United States district at-
torney for the state of Indiana, and served as such
until March 3, 1887; was elected to the United
States Senate Feb. 2, 1887, and took liis seat
March 4, 1887. His term of service will expire
March 3, 1893.
TURPIX, Louis W., member of Congress, was
born in Charlottesville, Va,. Feb. 22 1849. He
removed to .Mabama in 1858; was self-educated,
in i)olitics is a Democrat, and was tax assessor of
Hale county, Ala., seven years; was elected a
representative from the Fourth Congressional Dis-
trict of .VlaC)ama to the Fifty-first Coiig-rcss, but wa.-,
uuseated b^ the House of Reprosentative.s. In 1890,
was elected from the same district to the Fifty-
second Congi'ets.
TURPIS CAUSA, a phrase in the law of Scot-
land borrowed from the Roman law, to express an
immoral consideration on which some contract or
obligation is founded. The rule is, that when an
immoral contract is broken, no court of law will
assist either party to enforce it.
TUSCALOOSA, a prosperous manufacturing city
of Alabama. It has fine water-power, and is the
.seat of the State University, two female colleges,
and seveial other excellent private schools. Pop-
ulation in 1890, 5,486.
TUSCAN ORDER OF ARCHITECTURE, one
of the five classic orders, being a Roman modifica-
tion of the Doric style with unfluted columns, and
without triglvphs. It is the simplest of the orders.
TUSC.VRORAS, a tribe of North American In-
dians, who. at the settlement of North Carolina,
b.ad fifteen towns on tlie Tar and Neuse Rivers,
1510
T I" .S K i: G E E — T Y P E W R I T E R S ,
and 1,200 warriors. In 1711 they l)egan a war
with the settlers, and after a series of savage en-
counters were defeated, and joined the Iroquois in
New York, where they hecame allies of the Eng-
lish, and where about fifty families still reside on
an Indian Reservation in the western part of the
state.
TUSKEGEE, a prosperous town of Alabama,
the seat of a female college, an orphans' home, and
of the Alabama High School for boys; also of a
normal school for colored teachers. Population in
1890. 2,600.
TUTTLINGEN, a town of Wiirtemberg, on the
right bank of the Danube, twenty miles south-
west of Sigmaringen. It has manufactories nf
knives, needles, cloth, cotton, hosiery, linen and
silk, and carries on some trade in corn. Popula-
tion, 7,031. Tutthngen is historically notable as
the scene of a battle in 1(543, during the Thirty
Years' War, in which ati Austro-Bavarian force,
under Hatzfeld and Mercy, defeated the French.
TUTTY-POWDER, an impure oxide of zinc,
found in the chimneys of the furnaces in which
the ores of that metal are roasted. It has some
value in medicine.
TWILL, a woven fabric, whose warp is raised
one thread and depressed two or more threads for
the passage of the filling. This gives the struct-
m-e a curious appearance of diagonal lines.
TWO RIVERS, a town of Wisconsin, on Lake
Michigan. It produces a variety of manufactures,
principally of wood. Population in 1890, 2,870.
TYBEE, an island and sound at the mouth of
the Savannah River, Georgia. ' The sound is a bay
of the Atlantic, extending from Tybee Island on
the South to Hilton Head on the north, opening
to Port Royal entrance by Cooper's River, Wall's
Cut, Lazaretto Creek, and other channels. The
island is six miles long by three wide, and was
occupied in 1861 byGeneral Sherman, who erected
batteries for the reduction of Fort Pulaski, which
capitulated April 11, 1862.
TYE, Christopher, an English musician of
note, born at Westminster in 1500. He was edu-
cated in the King's Chapel, and held the office of
musical instructor to Edward VI. when Prince of
Wales. He received the degree of Musical Doctor
from the university of Cambridge in 1545, and
from Oxford in 1548. Under Elizabeth, he was
organist to the Chapel Royal, and produced vari-
ous services and anthems, some of which are yet
in repute among musicians. Dr. Tye's general
8cholar.ship was considerable.
TYLER, a growing town and railroad junction
in Smith County, Texas, the seat of the United
States and state courts for northeastern Texas.
It is an important fruit market. Population in
1890, 6,908.
TYLOR, Edwaed Bttrnett, president of the
British Anthropological Society, and keeper of the
Oxford University Museum, born at Camberwell,
1832, and educated at the school of the Society of
Friends, Tottenham. He has greatly distinguished
himself by his researches in the history of man and
civilization. His best known works are his Hand-
book on Anthropology, and Primitive Culture:
Researches into the Development of Mythology,
Philosophy, Religion, Art and Custom.
TYNDALL, John, born Aug. 21, 1820, at
Leighlin Bridge, Carlow, Ireland. He was first
educated at a national school. In 1839 he left
school to join the Iri.sh Ordnance Survey. In 185]
he went to Berlin, and continued his researches
under Professor Magnus. He soon returned to
England, and was elected F. R. S. in 1852. In
1853 he was invited to give a Friday evening dis-
course at the Royal Institution. He was appointed
Professor of Natural Philosophy 1853, but resigned
in 1888. It was in 1849 that" Professor Tyndall
first visited the Alps, purely for the sake of recrea-
tion. The result of these visits and his investiga-
tions are contained in the Philosophical Transae-
tions for 1851, also in his Glaciers of the Alps. In
1863 his work. Heat Considered as a Mode of Mo-
tion, was published, and this at once put hiui in
in the forefront as a physicist. In 1866 he re-
lieved Professor Faraday at Trinity House, and on
the latter's death succeeded him as superintendent
of the Royal Institution. In 1874 he delivered the
famous Belfast address as president of the annual
meeting of the British Association. A political
correspondence took place in the early part of 1890
between Professor Tvndall and Sir W. Harcourt.
TYPEWRITERS.' For general article see
Britannica, Vol. XXIV, pp. 697-8. The archives
of the British Patent Office show- that the first
patent upon a writing machine was granted Jan. 7,
1714, to Henry Mill, a skilled engineer, who died
about the year 1770. As no drawings accom-
THE FIKST TTPEWHITEE.
panied the specification, the machine cannot now
be described. It is believed that it was for em-
bossing letters for the blind. The next invention
in this field was a French device for stamping
embossed letters upon paper for the use of the
blind ; it appeared about 1784. Until 1841 there
is no record in the English Patent Office of any
other writing machines. But from that date a
number of devices, all more or less impracticable,
made their appearance, and more than a hundred
inventions of writing machines have been patented
in England, not one of which has done its work in
a satisfactory manner.
American records show that, in 1843, Charles
Thurber, of Worcester, Mass., took out a patent
for a writing machine, followed by dn improve-
ment two years later. The Thurber machine wrote,
but so slowly that it remained a curiosity and
nothing more. The accompanying cut shows its
operation. The keys are small steel rods, four
inches long, with common types inserted in the
lower end, and bearing buttons on the top with
the corresponding letters marked on them. The
T Y 1' E W li 1 T E K S ,
ir>i7
keys are placed in a vertical position around tlie
rim of a horizontal brass wheel, sixteen inches
across, which turns about a central post, and each
SMITH rKEMIl.l..
key-rod is surrounded by a spiral spring, which
raises it after it has been pressed down upon the
paper.
Mr. A. Ely Beach, now one of the proprietors of
the " Scientific American," obtained a patent In
1856 for a machine intended to print embossed let-
ters for the use of the blind. It covered a princi-
ple afterward developed into success. All the
printing was done at one point, the center of a
circle, and the machine was made with type-bars
converging as the spokes of a wheel
Soon afterward Dr. Samuel W. Francis adopted
the pianoforte action and arranged his hammers,
each with the face of a letter, in a circle, throwing
them up as piano-hammers act, each one striking
at a common center. A silk ribbon saturated with
ink was made to pass under the paper very much
as is now done, and was so adjusted as to move
with each impression.
but then residing near London, England. The
" Scientihc American " article was followed by the
suggestion that whoever would make a successful
writing machine would not only secure a fortune,
but would confer a blessing upon mankind. Sholes
and Soulo were printers who had been engaged for
some time in perfecting a machine for numbering
the pages of blank books, and for printing serial
numbers on bank notes. Mr. Glidden, who was a
man of means, happened to be working at a patent
plow in the machine shop frequented by Sholes
and Soule. He took great interest in the paging
machine. One day he said to Sholes, " Why can't
a machine be made that will write letters and
words instead of simply figures? "
When the " Scientific American " article ap-
peared, Mr. Glidden showed it to Sholes, and,
Soule having joined them, the three went to work
upon the invention. Soulii suggested pivoted
types set in a circle, and Sholes suggested the let-
ter-spacing device. In September, 1867, the first
THE CKANDALL.
Several other early patents were issued, among
them one to Fairbanks, in 1848, and another to
Oliver T. Eddy, of Baltimore.
In 1867 a writing machine called " The Type
Writer," was patented by C. Latham Sholes, Sam-
uel W. Soule, and Carlos Glidden, of Milwaukee,
Wis. Neither of them knew what had previously
been done in the same line, except that Mr. Sholes
had seen an article in the " Scientific American, "
copied from " London Engineering, " in which was
described a writing machine called the " ptcro-
type," invented by John Pratt, of Centre, Ala.,
THE BAELOOK.
machine was finished, and letters written with it
were .sent to acquaintances and friends.
Mr. James Densmore, then of Meadville, Pa.,
who received one of these letters, was so Impressed
by it that by return mail he asked to become inter-
ested in the enterprise. In reply he was offered a
(juarter interest if he would pay all the expenses
up to date. He accepted the ofler, and when he
saw the machine, in March, 1868, he pronounced
it good for nothing except to show that the idea
was feasible. His faith, however, was unshaken,
and Soule and Glidden having dropped out of the
enterprise, he assumed all expenses; and urged
Sholes to remedy certain defects which he pointed
out. No less than twenty-five or thirty experi-
mental typewriters were made, each one a little
better than its predecessor. As fast as finished
they were placed in the hands of different experts,
among others James O. Clephaue, a stenographer
of Washington, D. C.,who by hard use destroyed
' lone after another till the patience of Sholes was
exhausted. But Densmore insisted that as the
machine must be made so that anybody could use
it, such tests were a blessing and not a misfortune.
Progress was made slowly until in 1873 the
machine was taken by E. Remington & Sons, of
Ilion, N. Y., when it received the attention of a
number of skilled machinists, who put into prac-
tical shape much that had been merely suggested
by the original inventors. When the machine
appeared upon the market, it was first offered
chiefly to professional men — lawyers, clergymen
and newspaper men ; and apparently its greatest
field of usefulness, the offices of mercantile houses,
was almost overlooked. It was not until 1882 that
ir,i8
'J' Y P E \( li I T E E S — T Y P 11 - F E V E R .
i s real possibilities became apparent : until then
I he machine had been, so to speak, on trial. There
liad been some defects that interfered with its
rapid growth and favor. From 1882 until the
present time, its history is one long record of suc-
CALIGKAPH.
cesses, abroad as well as at home, and those
successes are due perhaps not so much to the
fading away of prejudices as to actual improve-
ments in the machine itself.
In the Keiuington Typewriter the type arms or
bars, each bearing a lower-case letter and its cor-
respimding capital, are thrown up by pianoforte
lever action. Each impression causes the frame
carrying the rollers which hold the paper sheet to
move one space. The types are of tempered steel
and are practically indestructible. The perfection
of its mechanical construction is attested by the
immense amount of daily work which the machine
does without strain, and by the fact that experts
can work the keys so fast as to give clear impres-
Tirr. EF.MINGTOX.
sionsof a letter at the rate of thirteen to a second.
Among the improvements of recent years have
been tlie introduction of capital and lower-case
letters in the same machine without increasing the
number of keys — a radical and vast improve-
ment— the strengthening of the machine, the
aildition of some parts, the elimination of others.
The noise made by the old machine has been
gi'eatly lessened, and its liability to get out of
order reduced.
The most remarkal)le achievement of the type-
writer, the chief reason of its success and popu-
larity, has been the saving of time effected in busi-
ness offices. According to innumerable tests and
to the experience of nine out of ten of our active
business houses, the typewriter, as compared with
the pen, saves forty minutesan hour, or, tocarry out
the calculation, five hours and twenty minutes in a
business day. In a country like ours, where time
means money, it is very easy to estimate how
many times the typewriter must pay for itself
every year in a busy office. Last summer, in Eng-
land, Miss Emiline S. Owen, who went over to
show Englishmen what could be done with the
Reminnton typewriter, wrote for three minutes at
a speed of ninety-nine words a minute, the same
matter having been previously written out in long-
hand by Mr. Thomas Allen Reed, one of the most
rapid longhand writers in the world, at the unprec-
edented rate of sixty-five words per minute, the
best that he could do.
Tnii NATIO.N'AL.
Mr. E. D. Easton, one of the leading legal stenog-
raphers of Washington, in his summary of what
the typewriter has done for him, says that in the
Guiteau case two operators and machines an-
swered for getting up the copy, one each for an
associate reporter and himself. Something like
21,000 fohos were transcribed, at a saving over the
old method of about four cents per folio, or $840
in three months. In the Star Route cases, which
lasted about a year, there were in the neighbor-
hood of 70,000 folios written. The two machines
and operators saved about three thousand dollars.
In a recorded test made in New York city some
time ago, Miss M. E. Orr wrote an article contain-
ing 384 words from dictation, in the presence of
witnesses, in four minutes and twenty-nine sec-
onds, without error. The average was eighty-five
words per minute. Others have written at the rate
of more thap one hundred words per minute. At
many public institutions, in the United States,
such as the Cooper Institute and the Young
Women's Christian Association, in New York city,
tliere are free classes in typewriting. There are
over two hundred machines in use in the several
business colleges and .shorthand schools, for pur-
poses of instruction, in New York city alone. Type-
writing is now taught in some of the public schools,
and it is, probably, only a question of time when
it will be in manv of them.
TYPH-FEVER, a term now coming into use to
designate continued low fever. The best marked
varieties of this affection are known as typhus and
typhoid fevers, which in typical cases are easily
distinguished from each other, but not infrequently
it is difficult to decide whether the disease should
be classed as typhus or tyi)hoid fever; hence, the
general term typh-fever is a very convenient one
T Y K X A l'—\JLVL A T J () X .
1519
in doubtful eases. All the tvph-fevers belong
nosologically to the miasmatous order of zymotic
diseases.
TYRNAU, a town of Hungary, county of Ober-
Neutra, on the River Trna. about thirty miles i
northeast ot Prc-^burg. It has .so many churches
ana coinents that it has been nicknamed " Little
Rome." Tyrnau has manufactories of cloth linen
wood, etc., and a tolerably liyely general trade,
especially in wine.
1520
TJ
UEA-ULULATION.
UEA, or Uvea, a circle of islets in the South
Pacific Ocean. See Britannica, Vol. XV, p. 30.
UGANDA, or Buganda, the largest and most
powerful of the East Africa equatorial states. See
Britaunica, Vol. XXIII, pp. 717-18.
The sovereign, who bears the official title of Kaba-
kawaBuganda (Emperor of Uganda) and Overlord
of Unyoro, Buzongora, Karagwe, Buzinza, Usoga,
etc., is theoretically an autocrat, but his power is
restricted by custom and by the Luliiko, a sort of
privy council, composed of the Katikiro (chief
judge) and the Aba-Saza (great chiefs), who, how-
ever, are all appointed by the king himself, as are
also the Batongole (court officials), and even the
under officers of the five great territorial lords of
Lubiro (in the center about the capital), Kyagwe
(in the east), Bulemezi (in the northwest), Budu
(in the west), and Siugo (in the north). Another
important functionary is the Gabunga (head ad-
miral), who eoniuiauds a fleet of .several hundred
canoes on Lak(^ \'ictoria. The territorial lords are
hereditary feudal chiefs, enjoying almost royal
privileges. The revenue is collected by the Baso-
lonzi, or tax-gatherers, chiefly in the form of brass
and copper wire, Ijark cloth, and cowrie shells.
The capital, which was at Bandain 1862, has since
then been shifted, with the royal caprice, to
Rubaga, Nabulagala, and Mungo, which was the
royal residence in 1891.
UHLANS, light cavalry of .\siatic origin, intro-
duced into the north of Europe along with the colo-
nies of Tartars who established them.selves in
Poland and Lithuania. They were mounted on
light, active Tartar horses and armed with saber,
lance, and, latterly, with pistols. The Pru.s.sian
Uhlans won great renown in the Franco-German
war of 1870-71 by their bravery and marvelous
activity. The Prussians applied the term, rather
loosely, however, including all their light cavalry,
under the designation.
UJEIN, one of the seven sacred cities of Hindus-
tan, in Sindia's dominions, of which it was formerly
capital, on the right bank of the Sipra, thirty-five
miles northwest of Indore. It is surrounded by
walls witli round towers, is six miles in circumfer-
ence, contains the grand palace of the Sindia family,
several mosques and mausoleums, an observatory,
and an antique gate, supposed to date from before
the Christian era. An active trade is carried on in
cloths, opium, etc. The number of the inhabitants
is not ascertained.
UJHELY-SATORALYA, a market town of Hun-
gary, 105 miles northwest of Pesth. It stands on
theHagyalya Mountains, contains several churches
and a gynniasium. and is noted for its wine culture.
Population. 7,2iiii.
UK.\sr.. or I'kas. ii term applied iu Ru.ssia to
all the orders or .'dici^. legislative or administra-
tive, emanating from the government. The ukases
either ijroceed directly from the emperor, and are
then called imenny ukas, or are published as decis-
ions of the directing senate. Both have the force
of laws until they are annulled by subsequent de-
cisions.
ULODENDRON, a singular genus of coal-plants,
found on stems which occur chiefly in the roof-
shales. The .stems are covered with small rhom-
boidal scars, as in Lepidodendrou, formed by the
bases of leaves or scales; but they differ remark-
ably from that genus in having a double series of
large oval or circular markings, arranged linearly
on the opposite sides of the trunk. These markings
are variously interpreted as representing the cica-
trices produced by the bases of cones, by
branches, or by leaf-stalks. It is, like many of the
coal-tbssils, an extremely enigmatical plant ; and
it is difficult to determine its position in the vege-
table kingdom.
ULRIC, ST., bishop of Augsburg, venerated as
one of the Fathers of the German Church, born at
Augsburg about the year 890 ; died in 973. His
father,Hupald, was one of those counts of Dillingen
who play so important a part in medifeval German
histoi-y. He was educated at the celebrated Bene-
dictine monastery of St. Gall in Switzerland, and-
returned to his native diocese of Augsburg, where
he received holy orders. In accordance with the
usage of his times, he made a pilgrimage to Rome,
and soon after his retuin was consecrated bishop
of Augsburg, on the death of Hiltine in the year
92:!. Bishop Ulric bore an important part in the
jiublic atfairs of the empire during the reign of
Henry I. and his son Otho ; and he was the guid-
ing sjiirit of the several coimcils in Germany which,
in tile tenth century, labored at the work of ref-
ormation.
ULSTER BADGE. On the in.stitution of the
order of baronets in England by James I., a sinis-
ter hand, erect, open and couped at the wrist
gules, the armorial ensign of the province of Ulster,
was made their distinguishing liadge, in respect of
the order having been intended for the encourage-
ment of plantations in the province of Ulster.
ULTIMATUM, in diplomacy . the final conditions
or terms ottered by one government for the settle-
ment of its disputes with another; the most favor-
able terms which a negotiator is prepared to offer,
whose rejection will generally be considered to put
an end to negotiation.
ULTIMUS H^RES, in the law of Scotland, the
crown which is the last heir after aU the kin have
becomi^ exhausted, and succeeds to the property
of those who die without leaving next of kin, or
who, being bastards, have no next of kin.
DLULATION, a howling, or loud lamentation;
a wailing. It sometimes happens that articulate
stiunds or cries which resemble and perhaps imi-
tate those of animals, or arc a mere shrieking and
howling, form the sole or chief .syuiiitom and char-
acteristic of a morbid mental state. The act is
r L u X 1) A — r X 1 o X c o l i. k (; k .
1521
automatic, aiitl may be regarded as Indicativp of
grave chuu,^t's in the physical and moral nature.
In the Midcili' Ages, dining great rehgious excite-
ment, and those mental epidemics which involved
large commimities, such phenomena appear to have
been of frequent occurrence. It appears that in the
eighteenth century, a family of live sisters, in the
county of Oxford, were afl"ected with a modification
of hysteria, during which they howled or barked
like a dog; and that, about the same period, a
large religious community of females in France,
one and all, and at the same hours, shrieked or
mewed like cats : and were only reduced to so-
briety and to silence by the presence of military.
TLUX'DA, or LrsDA, a native feudal state of
Africa, the largest and most populous empire in
the Congo basin, comprising most of the territory ly-
ing bet ween the Kwango andKasai. Its ruler bears
the olHcial title of Muata Tanvo. and is the four-
teenth in descent from the founder of the dTOasty
in the seventeenth century. He is the suzerain of
about 300 monas and muenes, that is, vassal chiefs
and kinglets, who pay tribute in kind — ivory, lion
and leopard skins, corn, cloth, salt, etc. — .so long
as the central power is strong enough to enforce
it. Its present area cannot be estimated at much
less than 100.000 .square miles, with a population
perhaps not exceeding 2,000,000.
The succession goes to one of the sons of the two
<;hief wives, chosen by fom- official electors and con-
firmed by the Luko-shesha, or " Mother of the Kings
and Peoples. " The Lukoshesha, whose election is
made in the same way from the daughters of the
two chief wives, and ratified by the king, is ex-
empt from his jurisdiction and •' above all law, "
holding her own court, ruling over her own territo-
ries, and enjoying independent tribute.
The Mussamba. or royal residence, is displaced
at every succession, within a certain limit. The
dominant people in the empire are the Ka-Lunda.
a negroid race of Bantu speech. They import
woven goods and ironware from the south, and
•copperware from the southeast, and have also long
had dealings with the Portuguese half-breeds from
the west and the Arab slave-hunters from the east.
The chief exports are ivory and .slaves. But trade
languishes, being regarded as a royal monopoly,
and burdened with many restrictions.
ULUXDA, or Lcttda, a territory of Africa, in
the Lake Moero district, which about the middle
of this century was ruled over by the powert'ul
Muata Kazembe. heir of the Morupwe dynasty,
the most potent in South Central Africa during the
sixteenth century. The pre.sent Muata Kazembe
retains a mere semblance of authority, and is now
the vassal of Msidi (Msiri), founder of the new
kingdom of Garenganze (Katanga), in the region
between the Luapula and Lualaba, head streams
of the Congo within the limits of the Congo Free
State, and continuous southward with British
Zambesia (Barokeland and Mashukulumbweland).
UM. a Kaffir or Zulu word signifying river, and
used as a prefix in the names of most of the
rivers on the southeast coast of Africa, from the
Great Kei, where the names of Hottentot origin
appear to cease, nearly as far to the northeast as
the Sofala coast, where the names Imhambane,
Imhampoora, have the same prefix in a corrupted
state. The Hottentot word Kei has the same
meaning, and is still preserved in the Kei and
Keiskamma rivers, and other streams on the east
coast of the Cape Colimv.
UMBILICAL CORD." In botany, the connect-
ing link between the placenta of the ovary and the
ovule, through which pass the vessels that nour-
ish the ovule until it ripens into seed. In .some
plants the ovules are so closely connected with the
placenta that no umbilical cord can be said to
exist ; in others it is of considerable length.
UMBRELLA TREE. A small magnoUa tree
I (Magnolia umbrella), whose large leaves are
i crowded on the summit of the flowering branches
j in umbrella-like circles. Its range is from south-
! east Pennsylvania along the Alleghenies to central
j Alabama, and westward through Kentucky and
Tennessee to northeast Mississippi. It also occurs
in Arkansas. Like all the magnoUas it is a hand-
I some tree, bearing large, white, highly-scented
j flowers, and a rose-colored fruit.
UMPIRE. In law, a third pei-son appointed by
two arbitrators in the event of their differing in
opinion. When the reference or arbitration has
devolved upon the umpire, his award or umpirage
becomes final and binding upon the parties.
UNALASHKA, an island belonging to the
United States, in the North Pacific, one of the
Fox Islands, in lat. 5o" o2' X'., and 166= 32' W.
It is seventy-five miles long, and in some parts
twenty miles broad, has a rugged, mountainous
surfttce, and is thinly peopled. Ships are here
supplied with all necessaries except wood,
UXDIXES, the name given, in the fanciful sys-
tem of the Paracelsists, to the elementary spirits
( if the water. They are of the female sex. " Among
all the different orders of elementary s])irits, they
intermarry most readily with human beings.
Baron de la Motte Fouque has made this Paracel-
sist fancy the basis of an exquisite tale, entitled
rndine.
UX'ION, or ToKELAU. a group o^ three clusters
of islets in the Pacific Ocean. The principal are:
Fakaapo or Bowditch, Mikuhimo or Duke of
Clarence, and Atafu or Duke of York. Thev lie
between 8° 30' and 11' S. lat., and 171' and 172'
W. long. The group, which has been annexed to
Great Britain, is of importance, chiefly, as a stage
in the proposed telegraph route between British
Columbia and Australia, and as a coaling station
for steamers along the same route.
UNION CITY, a town of Pennsvlvania, about
cwenty-two miles southeast of Erie. It has man-
ufactories of leather, flour, barrels, furniture and
carriages, and contains an extensive oil refinery.
Population in 1890, 2,255.
UNION COLLEGE, a college in Schenectady.
N. Y., incoi-porated in 1795, chieflv bv the ef-
forts of General Philip Schuyler. It was named
Union from its being established by the coopera-
tion of several religious denominations. Its first
president was John Blajr Smith of Philadelphia,
who was succeeded in 1(99 by Jonathan Edwards,
the younger: but its great prosperity and useful-
ness ivere secured under the presidencv of Rev.
Eliphalet Nott, from ISO! until his death in 1S66.
By his zeal, entei-pri.*e, and large benefactions, it
was endowed and furnished with spacious build-
ings, a large library, and extensive cabinets of
natural history. Dr. X'ott was succeeded bv Dr.
Laurens P Hickok, the distin-ruished metaphysi-
cian. In 1869. Dr. Aiken of Princeton was called
1522
U N I 0 X T ( J W X — r P T 0 N^
to the presidency. He resigned in 1871, when Dr.
Eliphalet N. Potter, son of Bishop Alonzo Potter,
and grandson of Dr. Nott, was made president.
Tnder his administration the institution increased
in funds and students. In its general aims it has
lieen greatly enlarged by a connection with the
Law and iledical Colleges at Albany, and, together
with them, bears the name of Union University,
of which the president of Union College is the
chancellor. President Potter resigned in 1884, and
Hon. J. S. Landon was appointed president ad
intrrim. Harrison Edward Webster, LL.D., was
elected president in 1888.
UXIONTOWN, a borough, the county-seat of
Fayette county, Pa. It manufactures cement and
woolen goods. Population in 1890. 6,358.
UNITED LABOR PARTY, a political organ-
ization which grew out of the Central Labor
Union in New York city. This union was estab-
lished in 1881-82. In 1886 it appointed a com-
mittee to prepare a plan of political action. On
Sept. 23, a city convention was held, at which
176 labor organizations were represented. It
nominated Henry George as mayor and adopted
his doctrine of nationalizing all the land in the
United States. In the mayoralty contest George
was defeated, Abram S. Hewitt being elected.
The state convention of the United Labor Party
at Syracuse, N. Y., nominated George for secretary
of state, and also resolved in favor of many meas-
ures of particular importance to laboring men, as
fewer hours of work, free schools, etc. In the
election of November, 1887, George was again de-
feated. In October, 1888, the party nominated
James J. Coogau for mayor of New York city.
He obtained a much smaller vote than George
ever did. This sudden dwindling in numbers
showed that the United Labor Party has no real
bond of coherence, and that it cannot maintain its
existence as a factor in city or state politics.
i
1523
UNITED STATES OF AMERICA
For general article on the United States see
Britannica. Vol. XXIU. pp. 729-830. The article
is so elaborate and comprehensive — covering the
history, constitution and government, geography,
topography, productions and statistics down to
1S8S — that in these Revisions and Additions, it is
required that such supplementary matter shall be
given as may be needed to bring the record down
to the latest possible date, and also to furnish such
epitomized historic, political, and statistical in-
formation as may be found most convenient and
helpful.
Territory of United States in 1776.
An examination of the map of the United States
In the year 177ti shows the boundaries of tracts of
territory as follows :
At the northeast, but south of the river St. Law-
rence, Massachusetts begins with the former Saga-
dahoc Territory and Province of Maine, continues
over its present area to New York, while, westward
of Pennsylvania, broadening from the latitude of
its present southern boundary to that of Lake
Winnipiseogee in New Hampshire, it reaches a
western limit on the Mississippi River.
New York has its present area, and north of
Massachusetts has a boundary on New Hampshire
which extends between New York and the north-
eastern spur of Massachusetts.
Rhode Island appears as on the maps of to-day.
Connecticut has its present area, while beyond
Pennsylvania it extends to the Mississippi River.
Pennsylvania has no corner, as now, between
New York and Lake Erie.
New Jersey, Delaware, and Maryland, present
forms familiar to modern maps.
Virginia reaches to the Mississippi River, and
northward to the western territory of Connecticut.
North Carolina and Georgia in full width, and
South Carolina in a narrow belt, enfold the land to
the common Western River.
On the south of Georgia peninsula. East Florida
tends westward to the river Appalachicola, and
West Florida asserts a disputed northern limit
at the parallel of the mouth of the Yazoo River
in the west land of Georgia.
Quebec, reaching southward over the southern
trapping-grounds of the Hudson's Bay Company
and over the western lands- of Massachusetts, Con-
necticut, and Virginia, claims to cover the whole
territory between the Ohio and Mississippi rivers
and the great lakes.
Between the Mississippi River and the Stony
^Mountains lies Louisiana, a Spanish dependency.
Beyond, to the Pacific, stretches the vast ex-
panse of the older Spanish America.
At the extreme northwest there points toward
the opposing continent a peninsula whose forbid-
ding coast has been hitherto but a few times visited
by European navigators.
Oriqin.m, Public Land of the United States.
The Con federation asserted jurisdiction over all of
that portion of the present territory of the United
States east of the Mississippi River, from the
present British possessions on the north, to Florida
on the south. The concessions from the States to
the Confederation, divided this region into two
distinctive portions: one along the coast, whose
soil was so vested in the 13 States in severalty ;
another, inland, whose soil and exclusive jurisdic-
tion were possessed by the Confederacy.
These States and Federal domains were separated
by an irregular line along the present western
boundaries of the States of New York, Pennsylva-
nia, West Virginia, North Carolina, and Georgia.
Westward of this line, and separated into two
parcels by the territory of the present State of
Kentucky^ lay the original public domain of the
young Confederation, comprising 406,952 square
miles, while the aggregate area of the 13 States
was but 420,802 square miles.
Original Territukiai, Government.
Plans for the erection of governments on this
domain early engaged tlie attention of the Con-
gress of the Confederacy. Coincident with the
cession by Virginia, Jefferson, its delegate in Con-
gress, anticipating prompt cessions from the re-
maining States, reported from a committee a plan
of government for the whole public territory. This
plan required seventeen new States, each covering
about two degrees of latitude, arranged in two tiers
separated by meridians, each tier containing eight
States, the 17th State to be east of the eastern
tier and between the Ohio River and the western
boundary of Pennsylvania.
The famous proviso was included in this report,
and read as follow.s: "After the year 1800 there
shall be neither slavery nor involuntary servitude
in any of the said States other than in the punish-
ment of crimes whereof the party, shall be duly
convicted."
When the proviso was put to vote three States
were unrepresented; three, jMaryland, Virginia,
and South Carolina, voted iia;/ ; North Carolina
was divided; the four New England States, with
New York and Pennsylvania, voted aye. Failing
to receive the additional vote necessary to com-
plete a majority, the proviso was stricken out of
the report, and the report thus amended was
adopted. This ordinance was in no instance applied
in the erection of a government.
Again (July 13, 1787), soon after the region north-
west of the Ohio River had been transferred to the
Confederation by the cessions of New York, Vir-
ginia, Massachusetts; and Connecticut, another
ordinance was enacted, erecting " the territory
northwest of the Ohio River." To this ordinance
were appended six articles, the last of which pro-
vided for the future formation, on the land within
the territory, of "not less than three nor more
than five States," as follows : the western State be-
tween the Mississippi, Ohio, and 'Wabash Rivers
and a north line from Port Vincent, on the latter
river, to British territory ; the middle State be-
tween the last recited line, the Ohio River, and a
north line from the mouth of the Great Miami to
the border line ; the eastern State, between the
last, described line, the Ohio River, the State of
Pennsylvania, and the national boundary.
Authority was reserved to create two States in
that part of the territory north of the latitudinal
parallel of the southern extremity of Lake Mich-
igan. It will be noted that the meridianal bounda-
ries between those projecting States, which were
plotted on the river Ohio, now separate the States
of Illinois, Indiana, and Oliio, while the northern
part of the original territory has included the en-
1524
UNITED STATES OF AMERICA
tire States of Michigan and 'Wiscousin and fur-
nished part of the territory of the State of Minne-
sota.
Article VI, of the Ordinance of 1787, was as fol-
lows :
"There shall be neither slavery nor involuntary serv-
itude in the said territory otherwise than in punishment
of crimes whereof the party shall have been duly con-
victed: Provided, always, that any person escaping into
the sanie,from whom, labor or service is lawfully claimed
in any one of the original States, such fugitive may he
lawfully reclaimed and conveyed to the person claiming
his'or her labor or iien'ice, as aforesaid."
This inhibition of slavery, save that it was imme-
mediate, is in the very terms of the defeated pro-
viso in the first, or Jeffersonian project.
At the submission of this ordinance to vote eight
States were represented in Congress, and all voted
for the measure. The passage of the article was
possibly secured by the appendix of the proviso
respecting the return of fugitives from slavery, and
by the tacit understanding that slavery would be
permitted in the public domain south of the Ohio
River.
Original Area of the United States.
Meanwhile, and prior to the last two of the cessions
by the States, the independence of the States form-
ins the Confederacy had been recognized by Great
Britain iuthe Provisional Treaty of Peace signed at
Paris, Nov. 30, 1782, and in the definite Treaty of
Peace between Great Britain and the United
States, concluded at Paris, Sept. 3, 1783. By the
second article of the treaty the boundaries of the
territory of the United States were declared.
In substance, they ran from the mouth of the St.
Croix River to its head and thence due north, from
the source of the St. Croix River, to the Highlands;
along the said Highlands which divide those rivers
that empty themselves in the river St. Lawrence
from those vvhich fall into the Atlantic Ocean, to
the northwesternniost head of the Connecticut
River, and down that river to and westward along
the 45th parallel to and along the middle of the
Ontario, Erie, Huron, Superior, and Long Lakes,
and their water connections, "to the most north-
western point of the Lake of the Woods, and
thence, on a due west course, to the river Mississ-
ippi f thence, down the middle of that river to and
along the 31st parallel, to and along the middle of
the river Appalachicola to its junction with the
Flint River, and thence straight to the head of and
down the River St. Mary's to the Atlantic Ocean,
and included all islands within 20 leagues of the
Atlantic coast.
The western and southern boundaries of this
original area of the United States were confirmed
by treaty with Spain, the contiguous owner, Oct.
27, 1795. The northern line was the subject of pro-
tracted and difficult negotiations with Great
Britain. The Treaty of London, Nov. 19, 1794. in-
cluded provisions for determining the river St.
Croix and its source and the source of the Mississ-
ippi River.
By treaty of Ghent. Dec. 24, 1814, three Commis-
sions were authorized : one to settle the title to is-
lands off the coast of Maine; another to deter-
mine the boundary from the source of the river St.
Croix to the river St. Lawrence ; and a third to
lay the line from the river St. Lawrence to the
western point of Lake Huron, and also, as a sepa-
rate duty, thence to the most northwestern water
of the Lake of tlie woods.
The first Commission, Nov. 24. 1807. awarded
Moose, Dudley, and Frederick Islands to the United
States, and all otlier islands in Passamaquoddy
Bay. and also the Isle of Grand Menan, to Great
Britain.
Tlie fhird Commission defined their portion of
the lioundry line in their decision dated at Utica,
New York, .June 18, 1822.
Tlie second Commission failed to agree, and, af-
ter repeated attempts, all disputes affecting this
boundary of the Treaty of 1783 were adjusted by the
"Webster-Ashburton Treaty, of Washington, Aug-
ust 9, 1842, where may be found designated the
present line from the Atlantic Ocean to the St.
Lawrence River, and from the western terminus of
the work of the L'tica Commission to the western-
most water of the Lake of the Woods, and thence,
confirming the Treaty of Oct. 20, 1818, due south to
the 49th parallel.
It will be seen that the United States com-
menced its career as an acknowledged government
with the landed area which it now possesses east
of the Jlississippi River and north of the State of
Florida and. -nestward of that Slale, north ol ihe
31st parallel, being an extent of 627,844 square
miles.
Cession by Foreign Powers to the United
States.
The Fri iirli Cession. — Spain having held during 3?
years the Province of Louisiana, which she had re-
ceived (]7(i3) from France, receded it Oct. 1, 1890.
to France, and France, April 30, 1803, ceded it to-
the United States.
After this accession negotiations with Great
Britain were begun to determine its northern
boundary. In 1807 an agreement was reached, but
not formally perfected, and. the war of 1812 inter-
vening, the settlement of the boundary was de-
ferred to Oct. 20, 1818, when, by convention, it was
extended from the northwestern point of the Lake
of the Woods to and along the 49th parallel to the
Stony (Rocky) Mountains. The line was extended
no farther westward, among other reasons, in or-
der that no offense might be given to Spain, which
asserted title by discovery to the whole Pacific
slope of the continent. Yet it was agreed, to pre-
vent collisions, and without prejudice to the
claims of the parties or of outside powers, that any
country claimed by either party to the convention
should be free to both parties during ten years.
The part of the eastern boundary of this cession,
on the Mississippi River as far soutli as the 31st
parallel and its southeastern lioundary on the
Gulf of Mexico, were undisputed. But the remainder
of the eastern and the whole of the western
boundary was in controversy between the LTnited
States and Spain, and the western limit at the-
north, as asserted by France and maintained by
the United States and Spain.
The western limit at the north, as asserted by
France and maintained by the LTnited States, was
the Pacific Ocean. Spain, however, claimed title,
by prior discovery on the northwestern coast, as-
far eastward as the Rocky Mountains; and held
that, as against such discovery, the title of France
rested solely on discovery and exploration of the
Mississippi River, covered no more than the basin
drained by that river and its tributaries, and
consequently ended westerly at the Rocky Moun-
tains.
At the southwest the United States maintained
an extent of the French cession, including the
country east of the Rio Grande. But Spain having
long kept a line of garrisons in that region, held
the French territory to have been liounded by the
Sabine River.
These conflicting demands were satisfied by
treaty at Washington, Feb. 22, 1819. By this
UNITED STATES OF AMERICA
1525
authority the border line between Spanish pos-
sessions in the southwest and the territory of the
United States ran from the Gulf of Mexico up the
western bank of the Sabine River to the 31st par-
allel of north latitude, thence north to and along
the Red River, to and along the 23d meridian
(100th Greenwich), to and along the southern bank
of the Arkansas River to its source, and thence due
north to and along the 42d degree of north latitude
to the Pacific Ocean. This line in this discussion
will be regarded as having been the southwestern
boundary of the Province of Louisiana.
On the east the Treaty of 1763 had confined the
French cession to the Mississippi River as far south
as the 31st parallel, whence eastward various bound-
aries have been asserted.*
Under the construction of the cession adopted by
the United States, the Province of Louisiana is
now covered by those portions of the States of
Alabama and Mississippi which lie south of the
31st parallel by the entire States of Louisiana, Ar-
kansas, Missouri, Iowa, Nebraska, and Oregon,
and by that part of the State of Minnesota west of
the Mississippi River, and all that part of the State
of Kansas on the north of the Arkansas River and
east of the 23d meridian HOOth Greenwich^; by
the Dakotas, Washington, Idaho, and Montana, the
part of Colorado east of the Rocky Mountains and
north of the Arkansas River, by that part of
Wyoming north of the 4M parallel and east of the
meridian of the source of the River Arkansas, and
by what is known as the Indian Country.
This accession of area for which the United States
paid, in principal and interest, more than $23,500,-
000, added (adopting the L^nited States view ojf the
cession) 1,171,931 square miles to the public domain,
extended the United States from ocean to ocean,
and completed its possession of the central river
and basin of the continent.
The Spanish Cession. — The next addition to the
area of the United States was contributed by
Spain. At the time of the conclusion of the defini-
tive treaty of peace between the United States and
Great Britain iSept. 3, 1783), Great Britain ceded
to Spain the Provinces of East and West Florida
without definition of their boundaries. Hence
arose two opponent constructions of the treaty,
affecting the Province of West Florida. Great
Britain held the northern boundary of the province
which she ceded to be the 31st parallel from the
Appalachicola to the Mississippi River, and by a
simultaneous treaty acknowledged the territory
north of that parallel to belong to the United
States, which government also adhered to a bound-
ary on the 31st parallel.
In opposition, Spain claimed that, by the treaty,
the province of West Florida was ceded, and that
*The United States construed the cession of France (1803)
to include all the region between the 31st parallel and the
Gulf of Mexico, and between the Mississippi River, and the
Perdido River, now the western boundarv of the State of
Florida.
The ground of this construction seems to have been the
original Province of Louisiana extended eastward to the
Perdido, and that if France, as its cession to Spain, had not
actual possession, it yet had a possessorv right reaching to
the Perdido, which it ceded to Spain, (;763). which Spain re-
ceded to France (1800), and which France (1803), ceded
to the United States. On the other hand Spain as-
serted that Louisiana had its boundarv at the south-
east as expressed in the Treatv of 1763 between
Great Britain and France, namely, "The River Iberville
and Lake Maurepas and Poutchartrain," the waters skirting
the so-called •■ Island of New Orleans " westerlv and south-
erly from the river Mississippi to the Gulf of Mexico, and
that the successive transfers had carried that province with
that eastern boundary into the possession of the United
States. Under this construction of the cession of 1S03 it em-
braced, east of the Mississippi only the small "Island of
New Orleans.'
on the day of the treaty the province remained as
extended May 15, 1767, by Great Britain, includ-
ing the same rivers as bounded the original pro-
vince and northward from the 31st parallel lo that
of the mouth of the Yazoo River. This country
Spain took into possession and held until, by au-
thority of joint resolution of Congress, Jan. 15,
1811, and acts of the same date and of March 3,
1811, passed in secret session and first published
in 1818, the United States took it into possession.
On Feb. 22, 1819, the controversy was ended by
the treaty of Washington, whereby Spain ceded
to the United States its provinces of East and
West Florida. In accordance with the construction
maintained by the United States respecting the
southeastern limit of the French cession and the
northern limit of the Spanish cession, the latter
added the territory of the present State of Florida,
59,268 square miles, to the area of the United
States at a cost of nearly six and one-half millions
of dollars. By the same treaty Spain agreed to
that line between her western American posses-
sions and the United States which has herein been
adopted as the southwestern boundary of the
French cession, and ceded to the United States all
her claims to any territory east or north of that line.
After this cession by Spain, Great Britain and
the United States had only their own rights to
consider in the settlement of the northwestern
boundary. Hitherto the line had rested on the
49th parallel of north latitude at the Rocky Moun-
tains. By article 1, of the treaty of 1846, it was
stipulated that the boundary should be extended
from the Rocky Mountains westward along the
same (49th) parallel "to the middle of the channel
which separates the continent from Vancouver's
Land, and thence southerly through the middle of
said channel and of Fuca's Strait to the Pacific
Ocean." The British government claimed that the
"channel" of this article of the treaty is the so-
called Straits of Rosario. The United States main-
tained it to be the Canal de Haro. The question
was submitted to the arbitrament of William I,
Emperor of Germany, who gave decision Oct. 21,
1872, in favor of the Canal de Haro. Thus it re-
quired nearly ninety years for the national bound-
ary at the North to traverse the continent.
TJie Texan Aniiexation. — The next expansion of
the limits of the United States was southwestward.
The United Mexican States, having achieved their
independence of Spain, under the treaty at Cor-
dova, Feb. 24, 1821, by treaty of Mexico, Jan. 12,
1828, ratified that boundary with the United States
of America which had been acknowledged (1819)
by Spain, when possessed of their territory.
Subsequently the people of "Texas and Coahuila,"
one of the United States of Mexico, revolted from
the authority of that republic, and in convention,
March 2, 1836, declared the independent Republic
of Texas. By an act of the legislature of that Re-
public, passed Dec. 19, 1836, its boundaries were
declared to be on the north and east of the old line
settled (1819) by the United States and Spain, and
on the south and west from the mouth of the river
Sabine and three leagues from the coast to the
mouth of and up the Rio Grande to its source, and
thence due north to the 42d parallel of north lati-
tude. By joint resolution of ^larch 3, 1837. the
United States of America acknowledged the inde-
pendence of the Republic of Texas ; by joint reso-
lution of Dec. 29, 1845, the republic, with the limits
just now recited, was declared to be one of the
LTnited States of America. This was an annexation
of 376,163 square miles of territory, making the
total area of the United States 2.435.176 square
miles.
1526
UNITED STATES OF AMERICA
The Mexican Cessions. — The old Spanish provinces
of Texas and Coahuila were separated by the river
Nueces. At the institution of the Mexican Repub-
lic these provinces were united as the State of
"Texas and of Coahuila." The river Nueces was,
however, still regarded as the future boundary
between the probable separate States of Texas
and Coahuila as contemplated by the Constitution
•of the United Mexican States.
On the annexation of the Republic of Texas to
the United States of America, Mexico insisted that
Texas only — and not Coahuila — had revolted, and
consequently that its proper western boundary lay
on the river Nueces.
On the contrary, the Texan Republic has assert-
ed a wider revolt and the western boundary on the
Rio Grande. The United States annexed Texas as
bounded on the west by the Rio Grande, and main-
tained that boundary.
The ensuing war was concluded by a treaty
(Feb. 2, 1848), wherein the United States of Mexico
ceded to the tjnited States of America all claims to
the area asserted liy the former Republic of Texas,
and to the vast tract of land n'esl of the Rio Grande,
and of a meridian from its source to the 42d par-
allel of north latitude aoath of that parallel, east of
the Pacific Ocean, and north of the present bound-
ary of the United States, excepting the Mesilla
Valley south of the river Gila.
The latter territory, known as "The Gadsden*
Purchase," was ceded by Mexico, Dec. 30, 1853.
The money consideration passing from the
United States for the first Mexican cession was
$15,000,000, and for the second cession, $10,000,000.
The first cession (exclusive of the "Texan annexa-
tion") add^d 545,783 square miles, and the second
cession, 45,535 square miles, to the area of the
United States, and increased it to an aggregate of
3,020,494 square miles.
Tlie Russian f'fsaion. — Russia, by treaty of March
30, 1867, ratified .lune 20, 1867, for consideration of
$7,200,000, ceded her territory in America, which
has been named Alaska.t
Alaska is separated from the main territory of
the United States by that western part of the Brit-
isli possessions which lies between the parallels of
54 degrees 40 minutes and 49 degrees north lati-
tude, its southernmost point being nearly four
huuilred miles distant from the northern boundary
of Washington. Its area is estimated at 577,390
sijiiare miles.
Territorial Cessions by the Several States.
When the Confederation was formed by the
original thirteen colonies the cessions of their ter-
*.so called after Gen. James Gadsden, Unitfed States Minis-
ter to Mexico.
f On the east this cession has limit on the line which by
treaty between Great Britain and Russia (1825) senarated
their territory. It begins at the southernmost pointof Prince
of Wales Island, which Is on the parallel of hi degrees 40
minutes, runs northward along Portland Channel to the
junction of the .Wth parallel of north latitude with the conti-
nent, and thence along the summits of the mountains par-
allel to the coast to and along the 141st meridian to the Arctic
Ocean. But where the crest of the mountains skirting the
coast from the specified parallel to the meridian is more
thau ten marine leagues from the ocean, there the boundary
is a line not more than ten marine leagues from the coast
and parallel to its windings. The remainder of the boundary
of this llussian cession originated in the treaty bv which the
ces-iion was made. It commences in the .\rcti'c Ocean on
the ft4th meridian of west longitude (141st Greenwich),
descends Bering Straits midway between the islands of
Krusenstern and Kadmanov to 65 degrees 35 minutes (142
degrees .fO minutes Greenwich), just south of the nearest
points of .Vsia and America, continues between the Island of
St. Lawrence and Cape Chonkotski to the O.ith meridian
(172d Greenwich), thence midway between Atiouand Copper
Islands to lin degrees (167 east longitude from Greenwich),
anil iliPTu'e erw-<r\',i-:i' to include the Aleutian Isles.
ritory (shown on the map, and authorized by the
articles of agreement) were not immediately made.
Congress in an address, dated April 18, 1783, and
later by resolution, dated April 29, 1784, urged that
they be made speedily, as a source of common
revenue and for the promotion of harmony be-
tween the States. The following is a chronological
historic outline of the dates when the States sev-
erally acceded to the request of Congress :
New York authorized a cession in Feb. 1780,
and executed it March 1, 1781. It was renewed
by deed, April 19, 1785. The claims ceded
were titles acquired by treaties with the six
Nations of Indians, and covered the whole ter-
ritory from the lower of the Great Lakes south-
ward across the valley of the river Ohio as far as
the Cumberland Mountains. Oct. 29, 1782, the ces-
sion was accepted by the United States.
Virginia ofifered to cede, by Act of Jan. 2, 1781 ;
Congress, by Act of Sept. 13, 1783, agreed to accept
the cession as offered. Thereupon Virginia, by
Act of Nov. 20, 1783, authorized its delegates in
Congress to complete the transfer, which was done
by deed, March 1, 1784. The deed conveyed all the
title and claims of the State of Virginia to terri-
tory northwest of the Ohio River. Virginia, by
virtue of conquest of her militia, asserted titles as
far north as Lake Erie and Michigan, but due rec-
ognition of the ancient charter boundary of the
Colony of Connecticut places the northern limit
of the cession on the 41st parallel of north latitude,
and permits it to comprise only those parts of the
States of Ohio, Indiana, and Illinois situated south
of that parallel.
Mussaclnmttts, Nov. 13, 1784, authorized a cession
by her delegates in Congress; April 18, 1785, Con-
gress agreed to accept the cession, and April 19,
1785, it was executed. It included all title of the
State of Massachusetts to territory west of the
present western boundary of the State of New
York, and covered the land from the State of Penn-
sylvania to the Mississippi River, and giving the full
extent of the first charter of the colony between
the latitude of the southern boundary of the west-
ern extremity of the present State of Massachus-
etts and the latitude of a league north of the inflow
of Lake Winnipiseogee in the State of New Hamp-
shire.
Connecticut, Oct. 10, 1780, having offered to cede
with restrictions which were unsatisfactory to the
United States, on the second Thursday of May,
]78(), again authorized a cession; May 26, 1786,
Congress expressed readiness to accept the cession
as proposed, and Sept. 14, 1786, the cession was ac-
complished by the execution of a deed and its ac-
ceptance by Congress. This cession embraced the
soil and jurisdiction of the territory east of the
river Mississippi, between the latitudinal parallels
of 41 degrees and 42 degrees 2 minutes, and west of
a meridian one hundred and twenty miles west of
the present western limit of the State of Pennsyl-
vania. Connecticut, by Act of Oct., 1797, author-
ized the release to the United States of jurisdiction
over the land between the eastern boundary of her
former cession and the present western boundary
of the State of Pennsylvania. This transfer was
consuniated May 30, 1800. The State retained the
right of soil in the same territory, which lying in
the present State of Ohio between 41 degrees and
42 degrees 2 minutes, and reaching from the west-
ern boundary of the State of Pennsylvania west-
ward one hundred and twenty miles, has eversince
been known as "The Western Reserve of Connect-
icut." In 17f»2 the State conveyii! live hundred
thousand acres in the western part of tliis reservs>
to certain of its citizens as compensation for tiiyir
I
UNITED STATES OF AMERICA
1527
property destroyed by fire and pilhiije during the
Revolution. Sept. 9, 1795, the State alienated the
remainder of this reserve for $1,200,000. This sum
was appropriated asa fund whose annual interest is
pledfjed to the support of schools.
South Carolina^ August \9, 1787, by her delegates
in Congres^s. authorized by a previous Act of the
State Legislature, executed a deedof cession which
the United States accepted by Act of April 2, 1790.
The deed conveyed the area of the present State of
Tennessee.
Xorth Carolina, by Act of Dec. 22, 1789. authorized
a cession which was accepted April 2, 1790. The
deed conveyed the area of the present State of
Tennessee.
Georgia, by articles of agreement, dated April 24,
1802. ceded to the United States her claims to the
whole territory between her western boundary and
the Mississippi River ; while the United States at
the same time ceded to Georgia all of that portion
of South Carolina cession lying eastward of the
western boundary of Georgia. This cession con-
veyed all the land now in the States of Alabama
and Mississippi, except the portion along the
northern boundaries which was included in the
South Carolina cession.
The agreement included, among others, provi-
sions for: 1st, payment, out of proceeds from the
sale of the land in the cession, of $1,250,000 to the
State of Georgia as a reimbursement of its ex-
penses in relation to the territory ceded; 2nd, the
appropriation of 500,000 acres, or the proceeds of
at most that quantity of land, to satisfy the claims
against the lands of the cession ; and 3d, extin-
guishment of the Indian title to specified parts of
the cession. It resulted that the United States,
in addition to the cession to Georgia, paid not far
from $3,000,000 for this cession from Georgia.
Declaration of Independence.
The following is the full text of the world-re-
nowned Declaration of Independence, adopted by the
Continental Congress, in session in Independence
Hall, Philadelphia. Pa., July 4, 1776. The resolution
in favor of Independence was adopted July 2, 1776.
It was then placed in the hands of a committee, of
whom Thomas Jefferson was chairman, who duly
formulated and engrossed the document which
wag finally read, unanimously approved, and
adopted on July 4, 1776:
In Congress. July 4. 1776.
The Unanimous Declaration of the Thirtei7i Unitfii Stntfs of
America.
When, in the course of human events.it becomes necessary
for one people to dissolve the political bands which have
connected them with another, and to assume among: the
powers of the earth the separate and equal station to which
the laws of nature and of nature's God entitle them, a decent
respect to the opinions of mankind requires that they should
declare the causes which impel them to the separation.
We hold these truths to be self-evident— that all men are
created equal: that they are endowed by their Creator with
certain unalienable rights; that among these are life, liberty,
and the pursuit of happiness. That to secure these rights,
governments are instituted among men. deriving their just
powers from the consent of the governed; that when any
form of government becomes destructive to these ends, it is
the right of the people to alter or to abolish it/and its insti-
tute a new government, laying its foundation on such princi-
ples, and organizing its powers in such form, as to them
shall seem most likely to effect their safeiv and happiness.
Prudence, indeed, will dictate that governments long estab-
lished should not be changed for light and transient causes;
and accordingly, all experience hath shown that mankind
are more disposed to suffer, while evils are suflerable, than
to right themselves by abolishing the forms to which they
are accustomed. But when a long train of abuses and usur-
pations, pursuing invariably the same object . evinces a design
to reduce them under absolute despotism, it is their right,
it is their duty, to throw off such government, and to pro-
vide new guards for their future security. Such has been
the patient sufferance of these colonies, and such is now the
necessity which constrains them to alter their former sys-
tems of government. The history of the present king of
Ureat Britain is ;t hif^tory of repeated injuries aud usurpa-
tions, all having in direct object the establishment of an
absolute tyranny over these States. To prove this, let facts
be submitted to a candid world.
He has refused his assent to laws, the most wholesome and
necessary for the public good.
He has forbidden his governors to pass laws of immediate
and pressing importance, unless suspended in their operation
till his assent should be obtained; and, when so suspended,
he has utterly neglected to attend to them.
He has refused to pass other laws, for the accommodation
of large districts of pieople, unless those people would relin-
quish the right of representation in the legislature — a right
inestimable to them, and formidable to tyrants only.
He has called together legislative bodies at places unusual,
uncomfortable, and distant from the depository of their
public records, for the sole purpose of fatiguing them into
compliance with his measures.
He has dissolved representative houses repeatedlv, for
opposing, with manly firmness, his invasions on the rights of
the people.
He has refused, for a long time after such dissolutions, to
cause others to be elected; whereby the legislative powers,
incapable of annihilation, have returned to the people at
large, for their exercise; the state remaining, in the mean
time, exposed to all the dauger of invasion from without and
convulsions within.
He has endeavored to prevent the population of these
States; for that purpose obstructing the laws of naturaliza-
tion of foreigners; refusing to pass others to encourage their
migration hither, and raising the conditions of new appro-
priations of lands.
He has obstructed the admiuistration of justice by refus-
ing his assent to laws for establishing judiciary power.
He has made judges depend on bis will aloue for the ten-
ure of their ofiices, aud the- amount and payment of their
salaries.
He has erected a multitude of uew offices, and sent hither
swarms of officers to harass our people and eat out their
substance.
He has kept among us in limes of peace standing armies
without the consent of our legislature.
He has affected to render the military independent of. and
superior to, the civil power.
He has combined with others to subject us to a jurisdiction
foreign to our constitution aud unacknowledged by our laws;
giving his absent to their acts of pretended legislation.
For quartering large bodies of armed troops among us :
For protecting them, by a mock trial, from punishment
for any murders which they should commit on the inhabit-
ants of these States:
For cutting off our trade with all parts of the world :
For imposing taxes on us without our consent:
For depriving us, in many cases, of the benefits of trial by
jury:
For transporting us beyond the seas, to be tried for pre-
tended offenses:
For abolishing the free system of English laws in a neigh-
boring province, establishing therein an arbitrary govern-
ment, and enlarging its boundaries, so as to render it at once
an example and fit instrument for introducing the same ab-
solute rule into these colonies:
For taking awav our charters, abolishing our most valu-
able laws, and altering fundamentally the powers of our
governments:
For suspending our own legislatures, and declaring them-
selves invested with power to legislate for us in all cases
whatsoever.
He has abdicated government here by declaring us out of
his protection, and waging war against us.
He has plundered our seas, ravaged our coasts, burnt our
towns, and destroyed the lives of our peoi>le.
He is at this time transporting large armies of foreign
mercenaries to complete the work of death, desolation, and
tyranny, already begun, with circumstances of cruelty and
perfidy' scarcely paralleled in the most barbarous ages, and
totally unworthy the head of a civilized nation.
He has constrained our fellow-citizens, taken captive on
the high seas, to bear arms against their country, to become
the executioners of their friends and brethren, or to fall
themselves by their hands.
He has excited domestic insurrections among us, and has
endeavered to bring on the inhabitants of our frontiers the
merciless Indian savages, whose knowu rule of warfare is
an undistinguished destruction of all ages, sexes, and con-
ditions.
In every stage of these oppressions we have petitioned for
redress in the most humble terms; our repeated petitions
have been answered only by repeated injury. A prince
whose character is thus marked by every act which may de-
fine a tyrant, is unfit to be the ruler of a free people.
Nor have we been wanting in attention to our British
brethren. We have warned them, from time to time, of at-
tempts, made by their legislature, to extend an unwarrant-
able jurisdiction over us. We have reminded them of the
circumstances of our emigration and settlement here We
have appealed to their native justice and magnanimity, and
we have conjured them by the ties of our .common kindred
to disavow these usurptions. which would inevitably inter-
rupt our connections and correspondence. They, too. have
been deaf to the voice of justice and consanguinity. We
1528
UNITED STATES OF AMERICA
must, therefore, acquiesce in the necessity which denounces
our separation, and hold them, as we hold the rest of man-
kind—enemies in war — in peace, friends.
We. therefore, the representatives of the United States of
America, in general congress assembled, appealing to the Su-
preme Judge of the world for the rectitude of our intentions ;
Do, in the name and by the authority of the good people of
these colonies, solemnly publish and declare, that these
United Colonies are, and of right ovight to be, free and inde-
pendent states. That they are absolved from all allegiance
to the British crown, and that all political connection be-
tween them and the State of Great Britain is, and ought to
be, totally dissolved; and that, as free and independent
states, they have full power to levy war, conclude peace,
contract alliances, establish commerce, and to do all other
acts and things which independent states may of right do.
And for the supi)Ort of this declaration, with a firm reliance
on the protection of Divine Providence, we mutually pledge
to each other our lives, our fortunes, and our sacred honor.
Mas^aflufsrtts Bay.
John Hancock,
Samuel .\dam3,
John Adams.
Ko'^ert Treat Payne,
El bridge Gerry.
Bhod^ Island.
Stephen Hopkins,
William Ellery.
Connecticut.
Roger Sherman,
Samuel Huntington,
William Williams,
Oliver Wolcott.
yew York.
William Floyd,
Philip Livingston,
Francis Lewis,
Lewis Morris.
New Jersey.
ftichard Stockton,
John Witherspoon,
Erancis Hopkinson,
John Hart,
Abraham Clark.
Pennsyh'ania.
Robert Morris,
Benjamin Rush,
Benjamin Franklin,
John Morton,
George Clymer,
James Smith,
George Taylor,
James Wilson,
George Ross.
Kew Hampshire.
Josiah Bartlett,
William W'hipple.
Matthew Thornton.
Delaware.
Csesar Rodney,
George Read,
Thomas M'Kean.
Marylaiid.
Samuel Chase,
William Paca.
Thomas Stone,
Charles Carroll, of Carrollton.
Virginia.
George Wythe,
Richard Henry Lee,
Thomas Jefferson,
Benjamin Harrison,
Thomas Nelson, jun.,
Francis Lightfoot Lee,
Carter Braxton.
\orth -CaroHna.
William Hooper,
Joseph Hughes,
John Penn.
South Carolina.
Edward Rutledge,
Thomas Heyward, jun.,
Thomas Lynch, jun.,
Arthur Mi'ddleton.
Georgia.
Button Gwinnet,
Lyman Hall.
George Walton.
Governmental Recognition of the Independence
OF THE United States.
France acknowledged the Independence of the
American Colonies Feb. 6, 1778, and signed a treaty
of Alliance and Commerce with the American Em-
bassy. The alliance clause was regarded and
treated by England as a declaration of war by
France, and the two nations immediately began to
prepare for hostilities.
HoUaitd. — Great Britain declared war against
Holland, Dec. 20, 1780, on learning that Holland
was engaged in negotiating a commercial treaty
with the colonies. Holland recognized the inde-
pendence of the colonies, April 10, 1782.
Great Britain. — In the early part of 1782 several
earnest attempts were made by the British parlia-
ment to terminate the war against the colonies,
but the king and ministry persisted in their efforts
toward subjugation. On March 4, the commons
resolved, " That all who advise the king to con-
tinue the war shall be regarded as public enemies."
The administration of Lord North came to an end
March 20, and a strong peace party succeded
The summer of 1782 was largely spent in corre-
spondence and negotiations. Preliminary peace ar-
ticles were signed at Paris, Nov. 30, by Richard
Oswald, on the part of Great Britain, and by John
Adams, Benjamin Franklin, John Jay, and Henry
Laurens on the part of the United States.
Congress proclaimed cessation of hostilities, April
11, 1783, and ratified the preliminary treaty with
Great Britain, April 15. The Congressional procla-
mation was read to the army, April 19.
The last international act in the revolution was
consummated Sept. 23, when a definitive treaty was
signed by David Hartly, on the part of Great Brit-
ain, and by Benjamin Franklin, John Adams, and
John Jay, on the part of the United States. The
treaty fully conceded the independence of the
American States, secured boundaries extending
north to the great lakes and west of the Mississippi,
restored the two Floridas to Spain, and accorded
the Americans an unlimited right of fishing on the
banks of Newfoundland.
During the war. Great Britain sent 112,584 troops
for land-service and over 22,000 seamen to America,
and the Colonists had 230,000 Continental soldiers
and 5fi,000 militia under arms.
By a general order of Congress the army was
disbanded, Nov. 3, a small force being retained at
West Point, N. Y., under command of General
Knox, until the organization of a peace establish-
ment.
The British army evacuated New York City Nov.
25 ; General Knox moved his troops down from
West Point and halted in the Bowery, and as the
British marched to Whitehall he followed and took
possession of Fort George, the artillery on the Bat-
tery saluting the United States flag, and the citi-
zens giving Governor Clinton and the principal
civil officers of the State who accompanied General
Knox an enthusiastic reception.
Washington summoned his officers to meet him
at his quarters, corner of Pearl and Broad Streets,
New York, Dec. 4, and then amid copious tears and
prolonged sobs, he took an affectionate farewell
of each. The ceremony over, he proceeded direct
to Annapolis, Md., where Congress was in session,
and returned to it, Dec. 23, the commission it gave
him over eight years before. He rendered an ac-
count of his expenses as Commander-in-Chief,
amounting to about $74,480, but declined to receive
any compensation for his services, and sought the
retirement of his farm.
Articles of Confederation.
In the history of the United States there have
been three differently constituted Congresses : "The
Continental Congress." "TheCongresssof the Con-
federation," and "The Congress of the United
States." The Congress of the Confederation rep-
resented the States under the compact, or Consti-
tution, known as "The Articles of Confederation,"
the full text of which was as follows :
Articles of Confederation and perpetual Union between the Statet
of New Hampshire, llassachusctts Bay, Rhode Island and
Providence Plantations, Connecticut, New York, Sew Jersey,
Pennsylvania, Delaware. Maryland, Virginia, North Carolina,
South 'Carolina, and Georgia.
Article 1. The style of this confederacy shall be "The
United States of America."
Art. 2. Each State retains its sovereignty, freedom, and in-
dependence, and everv power, jurisdiction, and right, which
is not by this confederation expressly delegated to the United
States in Congress assembled.
-iRT. 3. The said States hereby severally enter into a firm
league of friendship with each other for their common de-
fense, the security of their liberties, and their mutual and
general welfare; binding themselves to assist each other
against all force offered to, or attacks made upon them, or
any of them, on account of religion, sovereignty, trade, or
auv other pretense whatever.
Art. 4. The better to secure and perpetuate mutual friend-
ship and intercourse among the people of the different States
in this Union, the free inhabitants of each of these States,
paupers, vagabonds, and fugitives from justice excepted,
shaft be entitled to all privileges and Immunities of free cit-
Uens in the several States ; aira the people of each State shall
UNITED STATES OF AMERICA
1529
have free ingress and regress to aud from any other State,
and shall enjoy therein all the privileges of trade and com-
merce, subject* to the same duties, impositions, and restric-
tious. as the inhabitants thereof respectively; provided that
such restrictions shall not extend so far as to prevent the
removal of property imported into any State to any other
State, of which the owner is an inhabitant; provided also,
that no imposition, duties, or restriction shall oe laid by any
State on the property of the United States or either of them.
if any i»erson guilty of or charged with treason, felony, or
■other liigh misdemeanor, in any State, shall flee from justice
and bf found in any of the United States, he shall, upon de-
mand of the Governor or Executive power of the State from
which he fled, be delivered up and removed to the State hav-
ing jurisdiction of his offense.
Full faith and credit shall be given in each of these States
to the records, acts, and judicial proceedings of the courts
and magistrates of every other State.
Art. 5. For the more couvenient management of the gener-
al interests of the United States, delegates shall be annually
appointed in such manner as the Legislature of each State
shall direct, to meet in Congress on the first Monday in No-
vember in every year, with a power reserved to each State to
recall its delegates, or any of them, at any time within the
year, and to send others in their stead for the remainder of
the year.
No State shall be represented in Congress by less than two.
nor by more than seven members; and no person shall be
■capable of being a delegate for more than three years in any
term of six years ; nor shall any person, being a delegate, be
■capable of "holding any ofl&ce under the United States, for
which he. or another for his benefit, receives auy salary, fees,
or emoluments of any kind.
Each State shall maintain its own delegates in a meeting
of the States, and white they act as members of the commit-
tee of the States,
In determining questions in the United States in Congress
assembled, each State shall have one vote.
Freedom of speech and debate in Congress shall not be
impeached or questioned in any court or place out of Con-
gress; and the members of Congress shall be protected in
their persons from arrests and imprisonments during the
timeof their going to and from and attendance on Congress.
except for treason, felony, or breach of the peace.
Art. t>. No State, without the consent of tne United States
in Congress assembled, shall send any embassy to, or receive
a.ny embassy from, or enter into any conference, agreement,
alliance or treaty, with any king, prince, or state; nor shall
any person holding any office of profit or trust under the
United States, or any of them, accept of any present, emolu-
ment, office, or title of any kind whatever, irom any king,
prince or foreign state : nor shall the United States in Con-
gress assembled, or any of them, grant any title of nobility.
No two or more States shall enter into any treaty, confed-
eration, or alliance whatever, between tliem. without the
consent of the United States in Congress assembled, specify-
ing accurately the purposes for which the same is to be en-
tered into, an& how long it shall continue.
No State shall lay any imposts or duties which may inter-
fere with any stipulations in treaties entered into "by the
United States in Congress assembled, with any king, prince,
or state, in pursuance of any treaties already proposed by
Congress to the courts of France and Spain.
No vessel of war shall be kept up in time of peace by any
State, except such number only as shall be deemed necessary
by the United States in Congress assembled for the defense
of such State or its trade: nor shall any body of forces be
kept up by any State in time of peace except such number
only, as in the judgment of the United States in Congress as-
sembled, shall be deemed requisite to garrison the forts nec-
essary for the defense of such State; but every State shall
always keep up a well-regulated and diciplined militia, suf-
ficiently armed and accoutred, and shall provide and have
confetantly ready for use, in public stores, a due number of
field-piecfs and tents, and a proper quantity of arms, ammu-
nition, and camp equipage.
No State shall engage in any war without the consent of the
United States in Congress assembled, unless such State be
actually invaded by enemies, or shall have received certain
advice of a resolution being formed by some nation of Indi-
ans to invade such State, and the danger is so imminent as
not to admit of a delay till the United States in Congress as-
sembled can be consulted; nor shall any State grant com-
missions to any ships or vessels of war. nor letters of marque
or reprisal, except it be after a declaration of war by the
United States in Congress assembled, and then only against
the kingdom or state, and the subjects thereof, against which
war has been so declared, and under such regulations as
shall be established by the United States in Congress assem-
bled, unless such State be infested by pirates, in which case
vessels of war may be fitted out for that occasion, and kept
so long as the danger shall continue, or until the United
States in Congress assembled shall determine otherwise.
Art. 7. When land forces aro raised bv any State for the
common defense, all officers of or under the rank of colonel,
shall be appointed by the legislature of each State respect-
ively, by whom such forces snail be raised, or in such man-
ner AS such State shall direct, and all vacancies shall be filled
up by the State which first made the appointment.
Art. S. All charges of war, and all other expenses that shall
be iOonrred for the common defense or general welfare, and
allowed by the United States in Congress assembled, shall
be defrayed out of a common treasury, which shall be sup-
plied by the several States in proportion to the value of all
land within each State granted to or surveyed for any per-
son, as such land and the buildings and improvements there-
on shall be estimated according to such mode as the United
States in Congress assembled shall from time to time direct
and appoint.
The taxes for paying that proportion shall be laid and lev-
ied by the authority aud direction of the legislatures of Che
several States, within the time agreed upon by the United
States in Congress assembled.
Art. 9. The United States in Congress assembled shall have
the sole and exclusive right aud power of determining on
peace and war, except in the cases mentioned in the sixth ar-
ticle— of sending and receiving aniliassadors— entering into
treaties and alliances ; provided, that no treaty of commerce
shall be made whereby the legislative power of the respect-
ive States shall be restrained from imposing such imposes
and duties on foreigners as their own people are subjected
to, or from prohibiting the exportation or importation of
any species of goods or commodities whatsoever — of estab-
lishing rules fordeciding in all cases what captures on land
or water shall be legal, and in what manner prizes taken by
land or naval forces in the service of the United States shall
be divided or appropriated — of granting letters of marque
and reprisal in times of peace— appointing courts for the
trial of piracies and fellonies committed on the high seas,
and establishing courts for receiving aud determining finally
appeals in all cases of captures ; provided that no member of
Congress shall be appointed a judge of any of the said courts.
The United States in Congress assembled shall also be the
last resort on appeal in all disputes and differences now
subsisting or that hereafter may arise between two or more
States concerning boundary, jurisdiction, or any other cause
whatever; which authority shall always be exercised in the
manner following: whenever the leg"islative or executive
authority or lawful agent of any State in controversy with
another shall present a petition to Congress, stating the
matter in question, and paying for a hearing, notice thereof
shall be given by order of Congress to the legislative or ex-
ecutive authority of the other State in controversy, and a
day assigned for the appearance of the parties, by their law-
ful agents, who shall then be directed to appoint by joint
consent commissioners or judges to constitute a court for
hearing and determining the matter in question ; but if they
cannot agree. Congress shall name three persons out of
each of the United States, and from the list of such persons
each party shall alternatively strike out one, the peti-
tioners beginning, until the number shall be reduced to
thirteen; and from that number not less than seven nor
more than nine names, as Congress shall direct, shall, in
the presence of Congress, be drawn out by lot; and the per-
sons whose names shall be so drawn. or any five of them,
shall be commissioners or judges, to hear and finally deter-
mine the controversy, so always as a major part of the
judges, who shall hear the cause, shall agree in the deter-
mination; and if either party shall neglect to attend at the
day appointed, without showing reasons which Congress
shall judge sufficient, or being present shall refuse to strike,
the Congress shall proceed to nominate three persons out
of each State, and the secretary of Congress shall strike in
behalf of suchiparty absent or refusing; and the judgement
aud sentence of the court, to be appointed in the manner
before prescribed, shall be final and conclusive; and if any
of the parties shall refuse to submit to the authority of such
court, or to appear, or defend their claim or cause, the court
shall, nevertheless, proceed to pronounce sentence or judg-
ment, which shall, in like manner, be final and decisive,
the judgment or sentence and other proceedings being in
either case transmitted to Congress, and lodged among the
acts of Congress for the security of the parties concerned;
provided, that every commissioner, before he sits in judg-
ment, shall take an oath, to be administered by one of the
judges of the supreme or superior court of the Slate, where
the cause shall be tried, "well and truly to hear and deter-
mine the matter in question, according to the best of his
judgment, without favor, affection, or hope of reward;"
provided, also, that no State shall be deprived of territory
for the benefit of the United States.
All controversies concerning the private right of soil.
claimed under different grants of two or more States, whose
jurisdiction as they may respect such lands and the States
which passed sucfi grants are adjusted, the said grants or
either of them being at the same time claimed to have origi-
nated antecedent to such settlement of jurisdiction, shall,
on the petition of either party to the Congress of the United
States, be finally determined, as near as may be. in the same
manner as is before prescribed for deciding disputes re-
specting territorial jurisdiction between different States.
The United States in Congress assembled shall also have
the sole and executive right and power of regulating the
alloy and value of coin struck by their own authoritv. or
by that of the respective States— fixing the standard of
weights and measures throughout the United States— regu-
lating the trade and managing all affairs with the Indians
not members of any of the States; provided that the legis-
lative right of any State within its own limits be not in-
fringed or violated — establishing and regulating post-offices
from one State to another throughout all the Uni^ted States,
and exacting such postage on the papers passing through
1530
U K 1 1 E i> STATES OF AMERICA
the same, as may be requisite to defray tlie expenses of the
said oiiice— app6iutiuf< all officers of the land forces iu the
service of the Tuited States exceptius regimental officers—
appointiug all the officers of the naval forces, and commis-
sioning all othcers whatever in the service of the United
States— making rules for the government and regulation of
the said land aud naval forces, and directing their operations.
The United States iu Congress assembled shall have au-
thority to appoint a committee to sit in the recess of Con-
gress,"to be denominated "a committee of the States." and to
ionsist of one delegate from each State; and to appoint such
other committees and civil officers as may be necessary for
managing the general affairs of the United States, under
their direction — to appoint one of their number to preside,
provided that no person be aljowed to serve in the office of
president more than one year in any term of three years to
ascertain the necessary sums of money to be raised for the
'Service of the United States, and to appropriate and ai.ply
the same for defraying the public expenses— to borrow
money or emit bills on the credit of the United States, trans-
mitting every half year to the respective States an account of
the sums of money so borrowed or emitted— to build and
equip a navy— to agree upon the number of land forces, aud
to make requisitions from each State for its quota, in pro-
portion to the number of white iuhabitants in such Slate;
which requisition shall be binding, and thereupon the legis-
lature of each State shall appoint the regimental officers,
raise the men, and clothe, arm, aud equip ihem. in a soldier-
like manner, at the expense of the United Siates; and the
officers and men so clothed, armed, and equipped, shall
march to the phice appointed, and within the time agreed on
bv the United States iu Congress assembled: but if the
United States in Congress assembled shall, on consideration
of circumstances, judge proper that any State should not
raise men. or should raise a smaller number than its quota,
and that any other State should raise a greater number of
men than tlie quota thereof, such extra number shall he
raised, officered, clothed, armed, and equipped, in the same
manner as the quota of such State, imless the legislature of
such State shall judge that such extra number cannot safely
be spared out of the same : iu which case they shall raise, of-
ficer, clothe, arm, and equip as many of such extra number
as they judge can be safely spared And the officers and
men so clothed, armed, and equipped, shall march to the
glace appointed, and within ino time agreed on by the
United .-states iu Congress assembled.
The United States m Congress assembled shall never en-
gage in war, nor grant letters of marque and reprisal in time
of peace, nor enter into any treaties or alliances, nor coin
money, nor regulate the value thereof, nor ascertain the
sums and expenses necessary for the defense and welfare of
the United States or any of them, nor emit bills, nor borrow
money on the credit of'the United States, nor appropriate
money, nor agree upon the number of vessels-of-war to be
built or purchased, or the number of land or sea forces to be
raised, nor appoint a commander-in-chief of the army and
navy, unless nine States assent to the same ; nor shall a ques-
tion on anv other point, except for adjourning from day to
day, be deteVmined. unless by the votes of a majority of the
Uuited States in Congress assembled.
The Congress of the United States shall have power to ad-
journ to any time within the year, and to any place within
the United States, so that no period of adjournment be for
a longer duration than the space of six months : and shall
publish the journal of their proceedings monthly, except
such parts thereof relating to treaties, alliances, or military
operations, as in their judgment require secrecy; and the
yeas and nays of the delegates of each State on any question
shall be entered on the journal, when it is desired by any
delegate; and the delegates of a State, or any of them, at his
or their request, shall be furnished with a transcript of the
said journal, except such parts as are above excepted, to lay
before the legislatures of the several States.
Art. U). The committee of the States, or any nine of them,
fihall be authorized to execute, in the recess of Congress,
such of the powers of Congress as the United States in Con-
gress assembled, by the consent of nine States, shall from
time to time think'expedient to vest them with; provided
that no power be delegated to the said committe, for the ex-
ercise of which, by the articles of confederation, the voice of
nine States in the Congress of the United States assembled
is requisite.
Akt. 11. Canada, acceding to this confederation, and join-
ing in the measures of the United States, shall be admitted
into, aud entitled to all the advantages of, this Union, but
no other colony shall be admitted into the same unless such
admission be agreed to by nine States.
Art. 12. All bills of credit emitted, moneys borrowed.
and debts contracted bv or under the authority of Congress,
before the assembling of the United States, in pursuance of
the present confederation, shall be deemed and considered
as a charge against the United States, for payment and satis-
faction whereof the said United States and the public faith
are hereby solemnly pledged.
Art. 13. Everv State shall abide by the decision of the
United States, in Congress assembled, on all questions
which, by this confederation, are submitted to them. And
the articles of this confederation shall be inviolably observed
by every State, and the Union shall be perpetual; nor shall
any alteration at any time hereafter be made in any of them,
unless such alteration be agreed to in a Congress of the
United States, and be afterwards confirmed by the legislar
ture of every State.
And whereas it has pleased the great Governor of the
world to incline the hearts of the legislatures we respectively
represent in Congress, to approve of and to authorize us to
ratify the said articles of confederation aud perpetual union;
K-iimv ij(. that we. the undersigned delegates, by virtue of the
power and authority to us given for that purpose, do, by
these presents, in the name and in behalf of our respective
constituents, fully and entirely ratify and confirm each and
every of the said articles of confederation aud perpetual
union, and all and singular the matters aud things therein
contained; and we do further solemnly )>ledge and engage
the faith of our resjieetive constituents, that they shall abide
by the determinations of the United States iu Congress as-
sembled, on all questions which, by the said confederation,
are submitted to them; and that the articles thereof shall be
inviolably observed by the States we respectively represent;
and that the Union be perpetual.
In witness whereof, we have hereunto set our hands, in
Congress. Done at Philadelphia, in the State of Pennsyl-
vania, the ninth day of July, in the year of our Lord one
thousand seven hundred and seventy-eight, and in the third
year of the independence of America.
Xf)!' Hmnpshiri .
Josiah Bartlett.
John Wentworth, Jr.
Mai^sachusctts Bat/.
John Hancock,
Somuel Adams,
Elbridge Uerry,
Francis Dana,
James Lovell,
SamuelHilton.
Rhode Island.
William Ellery,
Henry Marchant,
John Collins.
Connecticut.
Roger Sherman,
Saiimel Huntington,
Oliver Wolcott, ,;
Titus Hosmer,
Andrew Adams.
New York.
James Duane,
Francis Lewis,
William Duer,
Gonverneur Morris.
Pemifii/lvania.
Robert Morris,
Daniel Roberbeau,
Jonathan Bayard Smith,
William Klingan,
Joseph Reed.
X< IV Jersey.
John Witherspoon,
Nath. Scudder.
Df (aware.
Thomas McKean,
John Dickinson,
Nicholas Van Dyke.
Maryland.
John Hanson,
Daniel Carroll.
Virginia.
Richard Henry Lee,
John Banister".
Thomas Adams,
John Harvie,
Francis Lightfoot Lee.
North Carolina.
John Penn.
Cornelius Harnett,
John Williams.
South Carolina.
Henry Laurens,
William Henry Drayton,
John Matthew's,
Richard Hutson,
Thomas Heyward. Jr.
(feorfiin.
George Walton.
Edward Telfair.
Edward Langworthy.
Earliest Congress of the United States.
First Continental Co7igress, i;?^.— In May, 1774, the
Sons of Liberty of New York, first proposed a Gen-
eral Congress of the Aiuerfran Colonies. They for-
warded this proposition through Connecticut to
Boston, and through Philadelphia to every colony
in the South. On June 17. the Legislature of Mass-
achusetts appointed the first day of September,
1774, as the time, and Philadelphia as the place for
holding the Continental Congress. Samuel Adams,
John Adams, Thomas Cushing, and Robert Treat
Paine were chosen delegates. One colony after
another elected deputies soon afterward. On Mon-
day, Sept. 5, the members of the Congress moved in
a body into a plain but spacious hall offered by the
carpenters of Philadelphia, Peyton Randolph, late
speaker of the assembly of Virginia, M'as unani-
mously chosen chairman. The body named itself
"The Congress," and its chairman "The President."
Eleven colonies represented ; Georgia and North
Carolina had no delegates there at first. There
were 55 members present, each colony having sent
as many as it pleased.
It was resolved that each colony should have one
vote, and that the doors should be kept shut during
the time of business. The members bound them-
selves by their honor to keep the proceedings secret.
UNITED STATES OF AMERICA
1531
On the nomination of John Adams, Jacob Duch^,
an Episcopal clergyman, was chosen chaplain. In
the middle of September North Carolina sent its
delegates to Congress.
On October S, 1774, this Congress resolved : "We
approve the opposition of the inhabitants of the
Massachusetts Bay to the execution of ihe late acts
of parliament; and if the same shall be attempted
to be carried into execution hy force, in such case,
all America OK^/if to support them in their opposi-
tion." This measure hardened George the III. to
listen to no terms ; he was bent on enforcing the
obnoxious acts in Massachusetts, and extending
them to Connecticut and Rhode Island.
On October 10,Congress declared "that every per-
son who should accept or act under any commis-
sion or authority denied from the regulating act of
parliament, changing the form of government and
violating the charter of Massachusetts, ought to be
held in detestation."
In October Congress resolved unanimously,
"from the first day of December, 1774, not to im-
port any merchandise from Great Britain and Ire-
land." All the members bound themselves to this
measure by an association. They further cove-
nanted: "We will neither import, nor purchase any
slave imported after the first day of December
next, after which time we will wholly discontinue
the slave trade, and will neither be concerned in it
ourselves nor will we hire out our vessels, nor sell
our commodities or manufactures to those who are
concerned in it."
This first American Congress brought forth an-
other measure, which was without an example:
It recognized the }iolitlcal authority of the people. It
addressed the people of the provinces from Nova
Scotia to Florida, the people of Canada, the people of
Great Britain ; and laid its grievances before the
people, while it refused to petition parliament.
On October 26, 1774, this Congress adjourned, after
it had embodied its decision in a petition to the
king. This petition was very conciliatory, asking
for nothing but peace, liberty and safety.
Second Continental Congress. — On May 10, 1775, the
Second Continental Congress met at Philadelphia.
John Hancock presided. All the thirteen colonies
were now represented. Blood had been shed at
Lexington and Concord, Mass., and Ticonderoga,
N. Y , the key of the gateway to Canada, was on
the same day taken from the British by the "Green
Mountain Boys" under Ethan Allen. The repre-
sentatives met as a Congress of War, in the name
of a united people struggling for independence.
This Congress was a revolutionary body. But, in-
stead of establishing a centralized government, it
relied on the colonial governments for executive
acts. This Congress appointed Ward, Charles Lee,
Schuyler, and Putnam as major-generals, and
Gates as adjutant-general. It adopted the forces
around Boston as the "American Continental
Army," and formulated rules and articles of war
for it, It chose George Washington as general-in-
chief, June 17, 1775. The battle of Bunker Hill
touk place on the same day. At that time Con-
gress began to issue bills of credit or "Continental
currency." These bills soon began to depreciate,
in spite of being declared legal tender. By suc-
cessive issues of such bills, however, Congress
contrived to maintain the army for some years.
In July, 1775, it adopted the last petition to the
king, beseeching him to consider the complaints of
the colonists, and to repeal the acts which they had
found intolerable. Instead of an answer the king
called, by proclamation, "on all good subjects to give
information of such persons who were aiding and
abetting the American rebellion." He sent 25,000
men to America under General Howe. British
ships cannonaded Gloucester, Bristol, Falmouth,
and other defenseless American seacoast towns.
Gen. Washington raised on Jan. 1, 1776, the dis-
tinctive standard of the thirteen united American
colonies.
In November, 1775, Congress appointed Franklin,
Jay, and three other delegates a committee "to
maintain intercourse with friends of the colonies
in Great Britain, Ireland, and elsewhere." At the
same time (Nov. 25) Congress ordered that British
war vessels or transports should be open to cap-
ture. On March 26, 1776, it declared all British
vessels lawful prize. On April 6, it opened all
American ports to the vessels of all other nations
than Great Britain. In June, 1776, Congress ap-
pointed a committee, consisting of Thomas Jeffer-
son, of Virginia, John Adams, of Massachusetts,
Benjamin Frinklin, of Pennsylvania, Roger Sher-
man, of Connecticut, and Robert R. Livingston, of
New York, to draw up a resolution of independ-
ence. The result was the Declaration of Inde-
pendence, which see. The date of its adoption ia
the date of the legal existence of the United States.
On Dec. 12, 1776, the Second Continental Congress
adjourned.
Third Continental Congress. — This Congress met
at Baltimore, Dec. 20, 1776, and lasted until the
articles of "Confederation" went into operation
March 1, 1781. On Nov. 15, 1777, it adopted a reso-
lution favoring a federal government. On Decem-
ber 16, of the same year the United States were
recognized by France, and on the 6th day of Feb-
ruary, 177S, Benj. Franklin succeeded in conclud-
ing a treaty of alliance with France.
Confederated Congres.?.— On the second day ol
March, 1781, the "Congress of the Confederation"
assembled. On the same day the federal govern-
ment was accepted by the delegates from all the
States. The treaty of peace with Great Britain
was signed at Paris on Sept. 3, 1782, and ratified by
Congress on Jan. 4, 1784. John Adams was sent as
the first American embassador to Great Britain-
and was received by the king on June 1, 1785. A
new federal constitution was signed by a conven-
tion of States on Sept. 17, 1787, and the same was
ratified by the people on May 23, 1728. On March
4, 1789, the first Congress of the United States of
America assembled, and on April 30 of the same
year G. Washington was inaugurated as the first
President.
Early Tre.^ties With the United States.
Great Britain, 1795. — Great popular indignation in
the United States against England, because of her
persistent refusal to negotiate a commercial treaty
with this country, began to be reflected in congres-
sional legislation 'n 1794. Mr. Madison on January 4,
introduced resolutions in the House, declaring it ex-
pedient to increase the duties on the tonnage of ves-
sels of nations which had no commercial treaties with
the United States, and on their manufactures ot
leather, metals, wool, cotton, hemp, flax, and silk,
and to reduce the tonnage duties on vessels of na-
tions having such treaties; and to increase the
duty on importations from the West Indies in for-
eign vessels from the ports from which Americans
were excluded. The following is the further his-
toric record : "A notable debate is had on the reso-
lutions, but the House comes to no decision. A
report, made in response to a resolution declaring
that a naval force adequate to the protection of
the commerce of the United States against the Al-
gerine corsairs ought to be provided, is taken up
Feb. 5, and a bill providing for tlie construction of 6
frigates, 4 of 44 guns, and 2 of 36 each, is passed by
1532
U N I T E D STATES OF A M E R I C -V
both Houses and signed l)y the President. Mr.
Sedgwick proposes, Marcli 12, to raise a military
force of 15,000 men and to authorize the President
to lay an embargo on foreign vessels for 40 days ;
his resolutions are lost, but the subject is again
brought up, 26, ^vhen a substitute is adopted laying
an embargo for 30 days on all vessels in the ports
of the United States bound to any foreign place.
A bill is also passed for fortifying certain ports and
harbors. Mr. Smith declares that provisions ought
to be made for the indemnification of all citizens
of the United States, whose vessels or cargoes have
l)een seized and confiscated by any of the belliger-
ent powers, upon which Mr. Dayton moves a reso-
lution for the sequestration of ail debts due from
American citizens to British subjects, and to com-
pel their payment into the treasury as a fund for
the proposed indemnification. Mr. Clark intro-
duces a more stringent resolution, April 7, to pro-
hibit all commercial intercourse with Great Brit-
ain, so far as respects the products of Great
Britain and Ireland, until her government shall
make compensation for injuries sustained by citi-
zens of the United States from British armed ves-
sels, and until the western posts are vacated.
The House strikes out the western-posts clause
and passes the resolution, but the Senate defeats
it by the casting vote of the V'ice-President."
While Congress was thus fanning the war flame
the President determined on an effort at negotia-
tion, and, April 16, nominated Chief Justice Jay as
Envoy Extraordinary of the United States to
Great Britain. He was instructed to labor for res-
titution for spoliations of American commerce,
the fullfilment of the treaty of peace, and, if suc-
cessful in this for a treaty of commerce. Mr. Jay
embarked on his mission May 13, 1794.
The President received, March 7, a copy of a
treaty of amity, commerce, and navigation, con-
cluded by Chief Justice Jay and Lord Granville,
Nov. 19, he submitted it to the Senate in special
session, June 8, after violent debates it was ratified
by a vote of 20 to 10 (June 24). The treaty secured
indemnity to American Merchants for the seiz-
ure of their property by British vessels, and
pledged a surrender of the western posts by June 1,
1796.
Indian Tribes. — About 1,100 chiefs and notable
warriors, of the western Indian tribes met United
States Commissioners at Greenville, Aug. 3, 1795.
and signed a treaty of peace, ceding a large tract
of land to the United States.
Algiers. — A treaty of peace was signed between
the United States and Algiers, Sept. 5, 1795, by
which all American captives were released from
imprisonment upon the payment of an annual trib-
ute to the Dey.
Spain. — The long pending disputes between the
United States and Spain were settled by treaty
signed Oct. 27, 1795, in which Spain conceded the
claims of the United States in the matter of the
Florida boundary and the right to the free naviga-
tion of the Mississippi River. Compensation was
to be made to American citizens for property ille-
gally seized by Spanish cruisers.
France. — In February, 1796, the French min-
ister of foreign affairs informed the United States
Minister, James Monroe, that the French Directory
considered the alliance between the United States
and France ended by the Jay treaty ; that the
French minister to the United States was to be re-
called ; and that a special envoy was to be sent to
make the announcement. A few days later, Mr.
Monroe was served with a long list of complaints
preferred by the French government against the
United States. The President recalled Mr. Monroe,
Sept. 9, appointing Cliarles C. Piiickiiey, of Soi:llt
Carolina, in his place: their letters were presented
Dec. 9. Two days afterward, Mr. Monroe was in-
formed by the French minister of foreign affairs
that the Directory would no longer recognize a
minister from the United States until after a repa-
ration of the grievances demanded of the Ameri-
can government.
In 1797 the hitherto friendly relations of the
United States with France were interrupted. The
treaty negotiated by Jay between the United States
and England had given offense to France. The
French Directory issued decrees against American
commerce, on the alleged ground of a violation by
the United States of her neutral stand between
England and France. Ships flying the American
flag were captured by French cruisers, and con-
demned, in alleged violation of treaty provisions
and international law. Gerry, Marshall, and
Pinckney were sent to France as special envoys
to remonstrate and negotiate a new treaty.
In 1798 the troubles between the two countries
were still unadjusted. The dispatches from the
special envoys of the United States were made
public and indicated that Talleyrand, the French
prime minister, refused to treat with them until a
bribe had been tendered to the French Directory.
The names of the three agents of Talleyrand who
attempted to secure the bribe were designated in
the despatches as X. Y. L. The pul)lication of these
despatches produced great excitement, and were
quickly followed by the return of two of the special
envoys, without liaving negotiated any settlement
of difficulties. The country was aroused to a high
pitch of resentment against France, and Congress
voted appropriations for increasing the Navy and
Army. During the greater part of this year, al-
though there had been no formal declaration of
war between the countries, France and the United
States maintained a small naval warfare against
each other in the waters around the West Indies ;
vessels were captured and their crews taken pris-
oners. Hostilities ceased toward the end of the
year. Congress passed an Act suspending all com-
mercial relations with France.
In 1799, Napoleon Bonaparte, who had overthrown
the French Directory, offered satisfactory terms to
the United Statrs, and peace ensued.
In 1S03 the United States purchased from France
the Territory of Lousiana, paying therefor the sum
of .'f 15,000,000. This treaty bore date April 30. The
territory thus acquired included that now em-
braced in several western States, and extended as
far north as to the present Canadian boundary.
Tripoli. — On June 3, 1805, a treaty of peace was
concluded between Tripoli and the United States.
Great Britain. — In 1807 Great Britain began the
offensive search of United States vessels and seiz-
ing persons and goods suspected of being contra-
band of her wars with other nations. During that
year the British frigate Leopard stopped the
IJnited States frigate I'lie.'iapeal-e at sea, and took
from her several sailors. The United States passed.
December 21st, tlie Embargo Act, forbidding any
vessel from the United States from entering a
foreign port.
In 1809 Congress removed the embargo from af-
fecting all countries except Great Britain. June
18th, 1812, war was declared against that country.
In 1814 Great Britain offered, January 6th, to
treat for peace, and commissioners of peace were
appointed on both sides. The naval warfare be-
tween the two countries, however, continued until
December 24th, 1814, when a treaty of peace was
signed between Great Britain and the United
States at Ghent, Belgium.
I
UNITED STATES OF AMERICA
1533
CoSVKNTIOX FOR AnilPTIXCi THE CdXSTITl TIDN OK
THE United States.
In May, I7S5, a committee of the Federal Congress
in session in New York, made a report recommend-
ing an alteration of the Articles of Confederation,
li'it no action was taken on it, and it was left to
I lie 8tate legislature to take the initiative in this
matter.
In January. 1786, the Virginia legislature passed
a resolution providing for the appointment of "five
commissioners who, or any three of them," should
meet such commissioners as should be appointed
by other States of the Union, at a time and place
to be agreed upon, to take into consideration the
following topics :
"The trade of the United States."
"A uniform system in commercial regulations ; and
report to the several States such plan of action as
they might consider best for adoption by the Con-
federated Congress. The commissioners, after cor-
respondence, appointed the 1st Monday in Septem-
ber as the time, and Annapolis, Md., as the place
of meeting.
At the meeting in Annapolis only five States
were represented, namely, Virginia, Delaware, New
York, New Jersey and Pennsylvania, the commis-
sioners appointed by Massachusetts, New Hamp-
shire. North Carolina, and Rhode Island failed to
attend. Under the circumstances of so partial a
representation, the commissioners present agreed
upon a report (drawn by Mr. Hamilton, of New
York), expressing their unanimous conviction that
it might essentially tend to advance the interests
of the Union if the States by which they were re-
spectively delegated would concur, and use their
endeavors to procure the concurrence of the other
States, in the appointment of commissioners to
meet at Philadelphia on the second Monday of
May following, to take into consideration the situa-
tion of the United States; to devise such further
provisions as should appear to them necessary to
render the Constitution of the Federal Government
adequate to the exigencies of the Union ; and to
report such an act for that purpose to the United
States in Congress assembled as. when agreed to
by I hem and afterwards confirmed by the legisla-
tures of every State, would effectually provide for
the same.
Congress, on Feb. 21, 1787, adopted a resolution
in favor of a convention, and the legislatures of
those States which had not already done so (with
the exception of Rhode Island) promptly appoint-
ed delegates.
On May 25, seven States having convened,
George Washington, of Virginia, was unanimously
elected President, and the consideration of the
proposed constitution was commenced. On
Sept. 17, 1787, the constitution as engrossed and
agreed upon was signed by all the members pres-
ent, except Mr. Gerry, of Massachusetts, and
Messrs. Mason and Randolph, of Virginia. The
president of the convention transmitted it to Con-
gress, with a resolution stating how the proposed
Federal Government should be put in operation,
and an explanatory letter.
Congress, on Sept. 28, 1787, directed the Consti-
tution so framed, with the resolutions and letter
concerning the same, to "be transmitted to the
several legislatures in order to be submitted to a
convention of delegates chosen in each State by
the people thereof, in conformity to the resolves
of the convention."
On March 4, 1789, the day which had been fixed
for commencing the operations of government
under the new Constitution, it had been ratified
by the conventions chosen in each State to consid-
er it, as follows :
Delaware, December 7, 1787;
Pennsylvania, December 12, 1787;
New Jersey, December 18, 1787;
Georgia, January 2, 1788;
Connecticut, January 9, 1788;
Massachusetts, February 6. 1788;
Maryland, April 28, 1788;
South Carolina, May 23, 1788;
New Hampshire, June 21, 1788;
Virginia, June 20, 1788;
New York, July 26, 1788.
The other States did not ratify the new Consti-
tution until after the meeting of the first session of
the new Congress, and hence did not participate
in its legislation. Of these States, North Carolina
ratified the Constitution, Nov. 21, 1789; Rhode
Island, May 29, 1789; and Vermont, Jan. 10, 1791.
Constitution of the United States.
The following is the complete text of the Con-
stitution of the United States, as adopted by the
Federal Constitutional Convention held in Phila-
delphia and duly engrossed and signed, Sept. 17,
1787, and subsequently ratified by the legislatures
of the several States:
We, the people of the United States, in order to form a
more perfect Union, estal)Iish Justice, insure Domestic Tran-
quillity, provide for the Common Defense, promote the Gen-
eral Welfare, and secure the Blessings of Liberty, to our-
selves and our posterity, do ordain and establish this Con-
stitution FOK THE United States of America.
Article I
Section 1. All legislative powers herein granted shall be
vested in a Congress of the United States, which shall con-
sist of a Senate and House of Representatives.
Sec. 2. The House of Representatives shall be composed
of members chosen every second year by the people of the
several States, and the electors in each State shall have the
qualifications requisite for the electors of the most numerous
branch of the State legislature.
No person shall be a representative who shall not have at-
tained the age of twenty-five years, and been seven years a
citizen of the United States, and who shall not. when elected,
be an Inhabitant of that State in which he shall be chosen.
[Representatives and direct taxes shall be apportioned
among the several States which may be included within this
Union, according to their respective numbers, which shall be
determine by adding to the whole number of free persons,
including those bound to service for a term of years, and ex-
cluding Indians not taxed, three-fifths of all other persons.]*
The actual enumeration shall be made within three years
after the first meeting of the Congress of the United States,
and within every subsequent term of ten years, in such
manner as they shall by law direct. The number of repre-
sentatives shall not exceed one for every thirty thousand,
but each State shall have at least one Representative; and
until such enumeration shall be made the State of New
Hampshire shall be entitled to choose three, Massachusetts
eight, Rhode Island and Providence Plantations one, Con-
necticut five. New York six. New Jersey four, Pennsylvania
eight, Delaware one, Maryland six, Virginia ten, North Car-
olina five. South Carolina five, and Georgia three.
When va?ancies happen in the Representation from any
State, the executive authority thereof shall issue writs of
election to fill snch vacancies.
The House of Representatives shall choose their Speaker
and other officers, and shall have the sole power of impeach-
ment.
Sec. .3. The Senate of the United States shall be com-
posed of two Senators from each State, chosen by the Legis-
lature thereof, for six years; and each Senator shall have one
vote.
Immediately after they shall be assembled in consequence
of the first election, they shall be divided as equally as may
be into three classes. The seals of the Senators of the first
class shall be vacated at the expiration of the second year,
of the second class at the expiration of the fourth year, aud,
of the third class at the expiration of the sixth year, so that
one third may be chosen every secoud year; and if vacancies
happen by resignation or otherwise, during the recess of the
Legislature of any State, the Kxecutive thereof may make
temporary appointments until the next meeting of the Leg-
islature, which shall then fill such vacancies.
*The part here enclosed in brackets was afterward amended
by the 2nd section of the Fourteenth Amendment.
1534
U K I T E I) STATES OF A M E R I C A
No person shall he a Senator who shall not have attained
the age of thirty years, and been nine years a citizen of the
United States. "and who shall not, when elected.be an in-
habitant of that State for which he shall be ehmen
The Vice-President of the United States shall be President
of the Senate, but shall have no vote, unless they be equally
The Senate shall choose their other officers, and also a
President pro Irmpon; in the absence of the Vice-President,
or when he shall exercise the office of President of the
United States. » » ,i ■ ,
The Senate shall have the sole power to try all impeiich-
ments When sitting for that purpose, they shall be on oaih
or affirmation. When the President of the United States is
tried, the Chief Justice shall preside: and no person shall
be convicted without the concurrence of two-thirds of the
members present. , ,, ^ ^ 3 ., .i.
ludgment in cases of impeachment shall not e.\tend further
than to removal from office, and disqualification to hold and
enioy auv office of honor, trust, or nroHt under the United
States; but the party convicted shall nevertheless be liable
and subject to indictment, trial, judgment, and punishment
according to law. ,,_,,, , *j
Sec 4 The times, places, and manner of holding elections
for Senators and Representatives shall be prescribed m each
State bv the Legislatures thereof; but the Congress may at
any tinie by law make or alter such regulations, except as to
the place of choosing Senators.
The Congress shall assemble at least once in every year,
and such meeting shall be on tlie first Monday in December,
unless thev shall bv law appoint a different day.
SEC ,3 Each House shall be the judge of the elections,
returns, and qualifications of its own members, and a ma-
jority of each shall constitute a quorum to do business; but
a smaller number mav adjourn from day to day, and may be
authorized to compel the attendance of absent members, in
such manner and under such penalties as each House may
'' Each House mav determine the rules of its proceedings,
punish its members for disorderly behavior, and, with the
concurrence of two-thirds, expel a member.
Each House shall keep a journal of its proceedings, and
from time to time publish the same, excepting such parts as
may in their judgment require secrecy; and the yeas and
nays of the members of either House on any (luestion shall,
at the desire of one-fifth of those present, be entered on the
journal. , ^ , ,, .^,
Neither House, during the session of Congress, sbnll with-
out the consent of the other, adjourn for more than three
days, nor to any other place than that in whicli the two
Houses shall be sitting. .
Sec. 6. The Senators and Representatives shall receive a
compensation for their services, to be ascertained by law and
paid out of the Treasury of the United States. They shall
in all cases, except treason, felony, and breach of the peace,
be privileged from arrest during their attendance at the ses-
sion of their respective Houses, and in going to and return-
ing from the same ; and for any speech or debate in either
House, thev shall not be questioned in any other place.
No Senator or Ke|.rcsentative shall, during the tune for
which he was elected, l)e appointed to any civil office under
the authority of the Uuited States which shall have been
created, or 'the emoluments whereof shall have been in-
creased, during such time ; and no person holding any office
under the Uuited States shall be a member of either House
during his continuance in office. ,, , . ....
Sec 7 All bills for raising revenue shall originate in the
House of Representatives; but the Senate may propose or
concur with uiiiendments as on other bills.
Every bill which shall have passed the House of Repre-
sentatives and the Senate shall, before it become a law, be pre-
sented to the President of the United States; if he approve
he shall sign it, but If not he shall return it, with his objec-
tions, to that House in which it shall have originated, who
shall enter the objections at large on their journal and
proceed to reconsider it. If after such reconsideration
two-thirds of the House shall agree to pass the bill, it shall
be sent, together with the objections, to the other House, by
which it shall likewise be reconsidered, and if approved by
two-thirds of that House, it shall become a law. But m all
such cases the votes of both Houses shall be determined bv
yeas and navs, and the names of the persons voting for and
and against'the bill shall be entered on the journal of each
House respectively. If any bill shall not be returned by the
I'lfsident witliin ten days (Sundays excepted) after it shall
have been presented to him, the same shall be a law, m like
manner as if he had signed it, unless the Congress by their
adjournment prevent its return, in which case it shall not be
Every order, resolution, or vote to which the concurrence
of the Senate and House of Representatives may be necessary
(except on a question of adjournment) shall be presented to
the President of the United States; and before the same shal
take effect, shall be approved by him, or being disaj.proved
by him, shall be repassed by two-thirds of the Senate and
House of Representatives, according to the rules and limita-
tions prescribed in tlie case of a bill.
Sec. 8. The Congress shall have power
To lay and collect taxes, duties, imposts, and excises, to
pay the debts and provide for the common defense and
welfare of the United States; but all duties, imposts, and
excises shall be uniform throughout the Uuited States;
To borrow money on the credit of the United States ;
To regulate commerce with foreign nations, and among the
several States, and with the Indian tribes;
To establish a uniform rule of naturalization, and uniform
laws on the subject of bankruptcies throughout the United
States ; , , , j ^ r •
To coin money, regulate the value thereof, and of foreign
coin, and fix the standard of weights and measures;
To provide for the punishment of counterfeiting the secur-
ities and current coin of the United States;
To establish post-offices and post-roads ;
To promote the progress of science and useful arts, by
securing for limited times to authors and inventors the
exclusive right to their respective writings and discoveries;
To constitute tribunals inferior to the Supreme Court:
To deline and punish piracies and felonies committed on
the high seas, and offenses against the law of nations;
To declare war, to grant letters of marque and reprisal, and
make rules concerning captures on land and water;
To raise and support the armies, but no appropria-
tion of money to that use shall be tor a longer term than
two years ;
To provide and maintain a navy;
To make rules for the government and regulation of the
land and naval forces; ^ ^i.
To provide for calling forth the militia to execute the
laws of the Union, suppress insurrections, and repel in-
vasions; . ,...,.. ^.
To provide for organizing, arming, and disciplining the
militia, and for governing such part of them as may be em-
ployed iu the service of the United States, reserving to the
States respectively the appointment of the officers, and the
authority of traiuing the militia according to the discipline
prescribed by Congress; . ,, ,, .
To exercise exclusive legislation in all cases whatsoever,
over such district (not exceeding ten miles square) as may,
bv cession of particular States and the acceptance of Con-
gress become the seat of the Government of the I nited
States and to exercise like authority over all places pur-
chasi-d bv the consent of the Legislature in which the same
shall be. 'for the erection of forts, magazines, arsenals. docK-
vards.and all other needful buildings;— And,
To make all laws which shall be necessary and proper
for carrying into execution the foregoing powers, and
all other powers vested by this Constitution in tlit- Gov-
ernment of the United States, or in any department or officer
Sec 9 The migration or importation of such i>ersons as
any of the States now existing shall think proper to admit
shall not be prohibited bv the Congress prior to the year one
thousand eight hundred and eight, but a tax or duty may be
imiiosed upon such importation, not exceeding ten dollars
for each person. , ,, ». »,„
Tlie privilege of the writ of habeas corpus shall not he
snspcnSed, unless when in cases of rebellion or invasion the
public safety may require it. , ^ , , ,, , „„,
No bill of attainder or ex post facto law shall be passed.
So capitation or other direct lax shall be laid, unless in
proportion to the ecu, us or enumeration hereinbefore di-
rected to be taken. , . j t „
No tax or duty shall be laid on any article exported from
""no preference shall be given by any regulation of com-
"lerce or revenue to the ports of one State over those of an-
other- nor shall vessels bound to. or from, one State, be
obliged to enter, clear, or pay duties in another.
No money shall be drawn from the treasury, but in conse-
ouence of "oppropriatious made by law ; and a regular state-
ment and account of the receipts and expenditures of all
public money shall be i.ublishcd from time to time.
No title of nobility shall be granted by the United States,
and no person holding any office of trust or profit under
them, shall, without the consent of the Congress, accept of
auv present, emolument, oflice, or title, of any kind what-
ever, from any king, prince, or foreign State. ,,.„„„ „,.
Sec 10 No State shall enter into any treaty, alliance, or
confederation: grant letters of marque and reprisal ; coin
money,emit bills of credit: make anything but go d and
silver coin a tender in payment of debts; pass any bill ot at-
tainder, ex post facto law, or law impairing the obligations
of contracts ; or grant any title of nobility. , „ „„„
No State shall , without the consent of the Congress, lay any
imposts or duties on imports or exports, except wiiat may ne
absolutely necessary lor executing its inspecUon la^vs ;^and
the net produce of all duties and imposts, laid by any Jstatc
on imports or exports, shall be tor the use of "le Treasury of
the United States; and all such laws shall be subject to the
revision and control of the Congress.
No State shall, without the consent of Congres!
duty of tonnage, keep troops, or ships of w'ar, 1
peace, enter into any agreement or com|iact wu
revision and control of the Congress i„„ „„„
No State shall, without the consent of_ Congress. 'aV^^'^yj
th another
State,' or with a foreign power, or engage >" ''"";.•,,""''' f,^,f?;
tually invaded, or in such imminent danger as will not admit
of delay.
AUTICLE II.
section 1. The executive Powo' "'"i" devested in a Pres^
dent of the Uuited States of America. He shall hold his office
UNITED STATES OF AMERICA
1035
durina the term of four years, and. together with the Vice-
President, chosen for the same term, be elected as follows:
Each State shall appoint, in such manner as the Legisla-
ture thereof may direct, a number of electors, equal to the
whole number of Senators and Kepresenlatives to which the
State may be entitled in the Congress; but no Senator or
Representative, or person holding an ottice of trust or profit
under the United states, shall be appointed an elector.
[Theeleerors shall meet in their respective States and vote
by ballot for two persons, of whom one at least shall not be
an inhabitant of the same State with themselves And thev
shall make a list of all the persons voted for. and of the
uumberof votes for each: which list thev shall sign and
certify, and transmit sealed to the seat of the Government of
the United States, directed to the President of the Senate.
The President of the Senate shall, in presence of the Senate
and House of Representatives, open all the certificates, and
the votes shall then be counted. The person having the
greatest number of votes shall be the President, if such num-
ber be a majority of the whole number of electors appointed;
and if there be more than one who have such majority, and
have an equal number of votes, then the House of Represen-
tatives shall immediately choose by ballot one of them for
President; and if no person have a majority, then from the
five highest on the list the said House shall in like manner
choose the President. But in choosing the President the
votes shall be taken by States, the representation from each
State having one vote: a quorum for this purpose shall con-
sist of a member or members from two-thirds of the States,
and a majority of all the States shall be necessary to a
choice. In every case, after the choice of the President, the
j»erson having the greatest number of votes of the electors
shall be the Vice-President. But if there should remain
two or more who have equal votes, the Senate shall choose
from them by ballot the Vice-President.]*
The Congress may determine the time of choosing the
electors, and the day on which thev shall give their votes-
which day shall be the same throughout the United States
No person except a natural born citizen, or a citizen of the
United States at the time of the adoption of this Constitu-
tion, shall be eli^rible to the office of President : neither shall ■
any person be eligible to that office who shall not have at-
tained to the age ri thirty-five vears, and been fourteen vears
a resident within the United States.
In case of the removal of the President from office, or of
his death, resignation, or inability to discharge the powers
and duties of the said office, the same shall devolve on the
N ice-President, and the Congress mav by law provide for
the case of removal. death, resignation, or inabilitv. both of
the Pesident and Vice-President, declaring what officer shall
then act as President, and such officer shall act accordingly
until the disability be removed, or a President shall be
elected.
The President shail. at stated times, receive for his serv-
ices a compensation which shall neither be increased nor
diminished during the period for which he shall have been
elected, and he shall not receive within that period any
other emolument from the luited States, or anv of them
Before he enter on the execution of his offlce'he shall take
th? following oath or affirmation:
'I do solemnly swear (or affirm) that I will faithfullvexe-
cute the office of President of the United States, and will, to
the best of my ability, preserve, protect, and defend the
Constitution of the United States."
Sec. 2. The President shall be commander-in-chief of the
-Vrmy. and Navy of the United States, and of the militia of
the several States, when called into the active service of the
I nited States; he may require the opinion, in writing, of
the principal officer in.each of the executive departments
npon any subject relating to the duties of their respective
olBces. and he shall have power to grant reprieves and par-
dons for offenses against the United States, except in cases of
impeachment.
Ue shall have power, by and with the advice and consent
of the Senate, to make treaties, provided two-thirds of the
Senators present concur; and he shall nominate, and by and
with the advice and consent of the Senate, shall appoint
embassadors, other public ministers and consuls judges of
the Supreme Court, and all other officers of the United
Slates, whose appointments are not herein otherwise pro-
vided for. and which shall be established bv law; hut the
Congress may by law vest the appointment of such inferior
oBicers, as they think proper, in the President alone, in the
courts of law. or in the heads of departments.
The President shall have power to fill uv all vacancies
that may happen during the recess of the Senate, by granting
commissions which shall expire at the end of their next
session.
SEC 3. He shall from time to time give to the Congress in-
formation of the state of the Union, and recommend to
their consideration such measures as he shall judge neces-
sary and expedient; he may. on extraordinary occasions,
convene both Houses, or either of them, and in case of
disagreement between them with respect to the time of
adjournment, he may adjourn them to such time as he shall
think proper; he shall receive embassadors and other public
ministers, and he shall take care that the laws be faithfully
"This clause of the Constitution has been annulled : see l'2th
Article of the .Amendments.
executed, and he shall commission all the officers of the
United States.
Sec. 4. The President. Vice-President, and all civil officers
of the United States, shall be removed from office on im-
Eeachment for, and conviction of, treason, bribery, or other
igh crimes and misdemeanors.
Article hi.
SEC.!. The judicial power of the United States shall be
vested in one Supreme Court, and in such inferior courts as
the Congress may from time to time ordain and establish
The Judges both of the Supreme and inferior courts shall
hold their offices during good behavior, and shall at stated
times, receive for their services a compensation which shall
not be.diminished during their continuance in office
Sec 2. The judicial power shall extend to all cases, in law
and equity, arising under this Constitution, the Jaws of the
United States, and treaties made, or which shall be made
under their authority; to all cases a/Tectiug embassadors'
other public ministers, and consuls; to all cases of admir-
alty and maritime jurisdiction; to controversies to which
the United States shall be a party; to controversies between
two or more States; between a State and citizens of another
State; between citizens of different States: between citizens
of the same state claiming lands under grants of different
States, and between a State or the citizen thereof, and foreign
States, citizens, or subjects.
In all cases affecting embassadors, other public ministers
and consuls, and those in which a State shall be partv. the'
Supreme Court shall have original jurisdiction. In all the
other cases before mentioned, the Supreme Court shall have
appellate jurisdiction, both as to law and fact, with such ex-
ceptions and under such regulations as the Congress shall
make.
The trial of all crimes, except in cases of impeachment,
shall be by jury; and such trial shall be held in the State
where the said crime shall have been committed ■ but when
not committed within any State, the trial shall be at such
place 01 places as the Congress may bv law have directed
Sec 3. Treason against the United States shall consist only
m levying war against them, or in adhering to their enemies
giving t'.em aid and comfort. No person shall be convicted
of treason unless on the testimony of two witnessess to the
same overt act, or on confession in open court.
The Congress shall have power to cleclare the punishment
of treason, but no attainder of treason shall work corruption
of blood or forfeiture except during the life of the person
attainted.
Article iv.
Sec. 1. Full faith and credit shall be given in each State to
the public acts, records, and judicial proceedings of every
other State. And the Congress may by general laws pre-
scribe the manner in which such acts, records, and proceed-
ings shall be proved, and the effect thereof.
Sec. 2. The citizens of each State shall be entitled to all
privileges and immunities of citizens in the several States
A person charged in any State with treason, felonv or
other crime, who shall flee from justice, and be found in an-
other State, shall on demand of the executive authority of
the State from which he fled be delivered up, to be removed
to the State having jurisdiction of the crime.
No person held to service or labor in one State, under the
laws therot. escaping into another shall, in consequence of
any law or regulation therein, be discharged from such ser-
vice or labor, but shall be delivered up on claim of the party
to whom such service or labor mav be due.
Sec. 3. New States may be adm'itted by the Congress into
this Inion;but no new State shall be formed or erected
within the jurisdiction of any other State; nor any State
formed by the junction of two or more States, or parts of
States, without the consent of the Legislatures of the States
concerned as well as the Congress.
The Congress shall have power to dispose of and make all
needful rules and regulations respecting the territory and
other property belonging to the United States: and nothing
in this constitution shall be so construed as to prejudice
any claim of the United States, or of anv particular State.
Sec. 4. The United States shall guarantee to everv State in
the Union a republican form of government, and shall pro-
tect each of them against invasion, and, on application of
the Legislature or of the Executive (when the Legislature
cannot be convened), against domestic violence.
Article v.
The Congress, whenever two-thirds of both Houses shall
deem it necessary, shall propose amendments to this Con-
stitution, or on the application of the Legislatures of two-
thirds of the several States, shall call a convention for pro-
posing amendments to the Constitution, which, in either
case, shall be valid, to all intents and purposes, as part of
this Constitution, when ratified by the Legislatures of three-
fourths of the several States, or by Convention in three-
fourths thereof, as the one or the other mode of ratification
maybe proposed by the Congress; provided that no amend-
ment which may be made prior to the vear one thousand
eight hundred and eight, shall in any manner aiTect the first
and fourth clauses in the ninth section of the first article,
and that no State, without its consent, shall be deprived of
its equal right of suffrage in the Senate.
lo3t)
UNITED STATES OF AMERICA
Article vi.
All debts contracted and engagements entered into, before
the adoption of the Constitutiou, shall be as valid against
the United States under this Coustiiutiou as under the Con-
federation.
This Constitution, and the laws of the United States which
shall be made in pursuance thereof: and all treaties made,
or which shall be made, under the authority of the United
States, shall be the supreme law of the laud ; and the Judges
in every State shall be bound thereby, auythiug in the Con-
stitution or laws in any State to the contrary notwith-
standing.
The Senators and Representatives before mentioned, and
the members of the several State Legislatures, and all execu-
tive and judicial officers, both of the United States and of
the several States, shall be bound, by oath or affirmation, to
support this Constitution ; but no religious test shall ever be
required as a qualification to any office or public trust under
the United States.
Article vii.
The ratification of the Convention of nine States shall be
sufficient for the establishment of this Constitution between
the Slates so ratifying the same.
Done in Convention by the Unanimous Consent of the
States present the Seventeenth Day of September, in the
Year of our Lord one thousand seven hundred and PZighty-
seven, and of the Independence of the United States of Amer-
ica the Twelfth. In Witness whereof We have hereunto
subscribed our Names.
GEO. WASHINGTON'.
Presidt. and Deputy from Virginia.
Xetv Hampshirr.
John Langdon,
Nicholas Gilman.
MassachusfttJ?.
Nathaniel (iorman.
Rufus King.
Connecticut.
Wm. Saml. Johnson.
Roger Sherman.
New York.
Alexander Hamilton.
Neto Jersey.
Wil: Livingstone.
David Brearley,
Wm. Paterson.
Jona. Dayton.
PenJtsylvania,
B. Franklin.
Rcbt. Morris,
Tho; Fitzsimons.
James Wilson,
Thomas Mifflin.
Geo: Clymer,
Jared Ingersoll.
Gouv: Morris.
Attest:
Delaware.
Geo: Read.
John Dickinson.
Jaco: Broom,
Gunning Bedford. Juu'r.
Richard Bassett.
^faryland.
James M'Heury,
Danl. Carroll,
Dan: of St. Thos. Jenifer.
X'irginia.
John Blair.
James Madison, Jr.
Xorth Carolina.
Wm, Blount.
Hu. Williamson,
Rich'd Dobbs Spaight.
Sotith Carolina.
J Rutledge,
Gharles Pinckney,
Charles Coteswo'rth Pinckney,
Pierce Butler.
Georgia.
William Few,
Abr. Baldwin.
William 3 ackbos, Secretary.
FIRST TEN AMENDMENTS— 1791.
Article i.
Congress shall make no law respecting an establishment of
religion, or prohibiting the free exercise thereof ; or abridg-
ing the freedom of speech or of the press; or the right of the
people peaceably to assemble, and to petition the Govern-
ment for a redress of grievances.
Article ii.
A well-regulated militia being necessary to the security of
a free State, the right of the people to keep and bear arms
shall not be infringed.
Article hi.
No soldier shall in time of peace be quartered in any house
without the consent of -the owner, nor in time of war, but in
a manner to be prescribed by law.
Article iv.
The right of the people to be secure in their persons,
houses, papers, and effects, against unreasonable searches
and seizures, shall not be violated, and no warrants shall
issue but upon jirobable cause, supported bv oath or affirma-
tion, and particularly describing the place' to be searched,
and the persons or things to be seized.
Article v.
No person shall beheld to answer for a capital or otherwise
Infamous crime, unless on a presentment or indictment of a
Grand Jury, except in cases arising in the land or naval
forces, or in the militia when in actual service in time of
war or pulilic danger: nor shall any person be subject for the
r^arae offense to be twice put in jeopirdy of life or limb ; nor
shall he be compelled in any criminal ease to be a witness
against himself nor be deijrived of life, liberty, or property,
without due process of law; nor shall private property be
taken for public use without just compensation.
Article vi.
In all criminal prosecutions the accused shall enjoy the
right to a speedy and public trial, by an impartial jury of the
State and district wherein the crime shall have been com-
mitted, which district shall have previously been ascer-
tained by law. and to be informed of the nature and cause of
the accusation; to be confronted with tbe wituesses against
him; to have compulsory process for obtaining wituesses in
his favor, and to have the assistance of counsel for his de-
fense.
Article vii.
In suits at common law. where the value in controversy
shall exceed twenty dollars, the right of trial by jury shall
be preserved, and no fact tried by a jury shall be otherwise
re-examined in any court of the United States than accord-
ing to the rules of the common law.
Article viii.
Excessive bail shall not be required, nor excessive fines be
imposed, nor cruel nor unusual punishments inflicted.
Article ix.
The enumeration, in the Constitution, of certain rights
shall not be construed to deny or disparage others retnined
by the people.
Article x.
The powers not delegated to the United States by the Con-
stitution, nor prohibited by it to the States, are reserved to
the States respectively, or to the people.
ELEVENTH AMENDMENT— 1798.
Article xi.
The judicial power of tlie United States shall not be con-
strued to extend to any suit in law or etjuity. cumnienced or
■prosecuted gainst one of the United states by citizens of
another State, or by citizens or subjects of any foreign State.
TWELFTH AMENDMENT— 1804.
Article xii.
The Electors shall meet in their respective States and voje
by ballot for President and Vice-President, one of whom, at
least, shall not be an inhabitant of the same state with them-
selves. They shall name in their ballots the person voted for
as President and in distinct ballots the person voted for as
Vice-President, and they shall make distinct lists of all
persons voted for as President, and of all persons voted for
as Vice-President. and of the number of votes for each, which
lists they shall sign and certify, and transmit sealed to the
seat of the Government of the'United States, directed to the
President of the Senate;— The President of the Senate shall,
in presence of the Senate and House of Representatives, open
all the certificates and the votes shall then be counted ;-The
person having the greatest ruimber of votes for President
shall be the President, if such uiiniber be a majority of the
whole number of Electors ajipointed, and if no such person
have such majority, then from the persons having the highest
numbers not exceeding three on the list of those voted for aa
President, the House of Representatives shall choose imme
diately, by ballot, the President. But in choosing the Presi-
dent, the votes shall be taken by States, the representation
from each State having one vote': a quorum for this purpose
shall consist of a member or members from two thirds of
the States, and a majority of all the States shall be necessary
to a choice. And if the House of Representatives shall not
choose a President, whenever the right of choice shall de-
volve upon them, before the fourth day of March next follow-
ing, then the Vice-President shall act as President, as in case
of the death or other constitutional disability of the Presi-
dent. The person having the greatest number of votes as
Vice-President shall be Vice-President if such number be a
majority of the whole number of Electors appointed, and if
no person have a majority, then from the two highest num-
bers on the list, the Senate shall choose the Vice-President:
a quorum for the purpose shall consist of two thirds of the
whole number of Senators, and a majority of the whole num-
ber shall be necessary to a choice. But "no person constitu-
tionally ineligible to the office of President shall be eligible-
to thatof Vice-President of the United States.
THIRTEENTH AMENDMENT— 18G5. '
Article xih.
Section 1. Neither slavery nor involuntary servitudc.except
as a punishment for crime, whereof the party t^hail have
been duly convicted, shall exist within the United States, or
any place subject to their jurisdiction.
S"ec. 2. Congress shall have power toenforce this article
by appropriate legislation.
FOURTEENTH AMENDMENT— 1868.
Article xiv.
Section 1. All persons born or naturalized in the United
States, and subject to the jurisdiction thereof, are citizens
r X I T E D STATES OF AMERICA
1537
of the United States and of the State in which they reside.
Xo State shall make or enforce any law which shall abridge
the privileges orimmnnitle^ of citizens of the United States:
nor sdall any State deprive any person of life, liberty, or
l^ropertv witliout due process of law. nor deny to any person
" itbin its jurisdiction the equal protection of the laws.
Sec. 2. Representatives shall be apportioned among the
several States according to their respective numbers, count-
ing the whole number of persons in each State, including
Indians not taxed. Bufwnen the right to vote at any elec-
tion for the choice of Electors for President and Vice-Presi-
dent of the United States, representatives in Congress, the
executive and judical officers of a State, or the members of
the Legislature thereof, is denied to auy of the male inhabit-
ants of such State.being twenty-one years of age. and citi-
zens of the United States, or inany way abridged, except for
participation in rebellion or other" crime, the basis of repre-
sentation therein shall be reduced in the proportion which
the number of such male citizeus shall bear to the w-hole
number of male citizens twenty-one years of age in such
Slate.
Sec. 3. Xo person shall be a Senator or Representative
in Congress, or Elector of President or Vice-President, or
hold any office, civil or military, under the United States,
or under any State, who. having previously taken an oath as
a member of Congress, or as an officer of the United States,
or as a member of any State Legislature, or as an executive
or judicial officer of any State, to support the Constitution
of the United States, shall have engaged in insurrection or
rebellion against the same, or given aid or comfort to the
enemies thereof. But Coneress may. by a vote of two thirds
d each House, remove such disability.
Sec. 4. The validity of the public debt of the United
States, authorized bv law. including debts incurred by pay-
ment of pensions and bounties for services in suppressing
insurrection or rebellion shall nbt be questioned. But
neither the United Stales nor any other State shall assume
or pay any debt or obligation incurred in aid of insurrection
or rebellion against the United States, or any claim for the
loss or emancipation of any slave, but all such debts, obliga-
tions, and claims shall beheld illegal and void.
Sec. 5. That Congress shall have power to enforce, by ap-
propriate legislation, the provisions of this article.
FIFTEESTH AMEXDMEXT— 1870.
.RETICLE IV.
Sectios 1. The right of citizens Of the United States to vote
shall not be denied or abridged by the United States, or by
any State, on account of race, color. or previous condition of
servitude.
SEC. 2. Congress shall have power to enforce this article
by appropriate legislation.
Ratificatiok of thk Constitution and Amend-
The Constitution was adopted by a Convention
of the States held in Philadelphia, Pa., Sept. 17,
1787 ; and it was subsequently adopted by the sev-
eral State Legislatures at the dates and in the
order following :
Delaware, December 7, 1787.
Pennsylvania, December 12, 1787.
New Jersey, December 18, 1787.
Georgia. January 2, 1788.
Connecticut, January 9, 1788.
Massachusetts, February 6, 1788.
Maryland, April 28, 1788.
South Carolina, May 23. 1788.
Sew Hampshire, June 21, 1788.
Virginia, June 26, 1788.
>"ew York, July 26, 1788.
North Carolina, November 21, 1789.
Rhode Island, May 29, 1790.
The State of Vermont, by convention, ratified
I he Constitution, January 10, 1791, and was. by an
act of Congress of February 18, 1791, "received and
admitted into this Union as a new and entire
member of the United States of America."
Ratification of First Ten Amendm'nU.
The first ten amendments (with two others
which were not adopted by the requisite number
cjf States — see Constitution) were submitted to the
.■^tate Legislatures by a resolution of Congress
which was adopted by that body at its first session,
"^em. 2.5, \li<9. and was ratified by the several Leg-
isluturt.'S a« follows:
69
New Jersev, November 20, 1789.
Maryland.'December 19, 1789.
North Carolina, December 22, 1789.
South Carolina, January 19, 1790.
New Hampshire, January 25, 1790.
Delaware. January 28, 1790.
Pennsvlvania. March 10, 1790.
New York. March 27, 1790.
Rhode Island. June 15, 1790.
Vermont, November 3, 1791.
Virginia, December 15, 1791.
The acts of the State Legislatures ratifying the
Amendments were transmitted by the Governors
to the President of the L'nited States, and by him
communicated to Congress. The Legislatures of
Massachusetts and Connecticut, do not appear by
the record to have ratified them.
The Eleventh Amendment. — The eleventh article
of amendment was submitted to the State Legis-
latives by a resolution of Congress passed March
5, 1791, at the first session of the 3d Congress; and
Jan. 8, 1798, at the second session of the 5th Con-
gress, it was declared by the President, in a mes-
sage to the two Houses of Congress, to have been
adopted by the Legislature of three-fourths of the
States, there being at that time sixteen States in
the L'nion.
llie Tuelfth Amendment. — The twelfth article was
submitted to the Legislatures of the several States,
there being then seventeen States, by a resolution
of Congress passed Dec. 12, 1803, at the first session
of the 8th Congress; and was ratified by the Leg-
islatures of three-fourths of the States, in 1804, ac-
cording to a proclamation of the Secretary of
State, dated, Sep. 25, 1804.
TTie Thirteenth Amendment. — The thirteenth arti-
cle was submitted to the Legislatures of the sev-
eral States, there being then thirty-six States, by
a resolution of Congress passed Feb. 1. 1865, at the
second session of the 38th Congres*, and was rati-
fied, according to a proclamation of the Secretary
of State, dated Dec. 18, 1865, by the Legislatures of
the following States :
Illinois, Februarv 1, 1865.
Rhode Island, February 2, 1866.
Michigan, February 2, 1865.
Maryland, February 3, 1865.
New York, February 3, 1865.
West Virginia. February 3, 18fl*.
Maine, February 7, 1866.
Kansas, February 7, 1865.
Massachusetts, February 8, 1866.
Pennsylvania, February 8, 1865.
Virginia, February 9, 1865.
Ohio, February 10. 1865.
Missouri, February 10. 1865.
Indiana, February 16, 1865.
Nevada, February 16, 1865.
Lousiana, February 17, 1865.
Minnesota, February 23, 1866.
Wisconsin, March 1, 1665.
Vermont, March 9, 1865.
Tennessee, April 7. 1865.
Arkansas, April 20, 1865.
Connecticut, May 5, 1865.
New Hampshire, Julv 1, 1865.
South Carolina, November 13, 1865.
-Alabama. December 2, 1865.
North Carolina, December 4, 1865.
Georgia, December 9. 1865.
The following States not enumerated in the
proclamation of the Secretary of State also ratified
this amendment:
Oregon, December 11, 1S(>5.
California. December 20, 1S65.
Florida. December 28, 1865.
1538
UNITED STATES OF A M E R I C x\
New Jersey, January 23, 1866.
Iowa, January 24, 1866.
Texas, February J 8, 1870.
The Fourteenth Aniendmcnt. — The Fourteenth
Article of Amendment to the Constitution was
submitted to these State Legislatures by a Con-
gressional resolution passed by the 39th Congress,
June 16, 1866. The Secretary of State issued a
proclamation, dated July 28, 1868, declaring that
the proposed Fourteenth Amendment had been
ratified, in the manner hereafter mentioned, by
the legislatures of thirty of the thirty-six States,
namely :
Connecticut, June, 30, 1866.
New Hampshire, July 7, 1866.
Tennessee, July 19, 1866.
New Jersey, September 11, 1866 (and the legis-
lature of the same State passed a resolution in
April, 1868 to withdraw its consent to it).
Oregon, September 18, 1866.
Vermont, November 9, 1866.
Georgia rejected it, November 13, 1866. and
ratified it July 21, 1868.
North Carolina rejected it December 4, 1866, and
ratified it July 4, 1868.
South Carolina rejected it December 20, 1866, and
ratified it July 9, 1868.
New York ratified it January 10, 1867.
Ohio ratified it January 11, 1867 (and the legis-
lature of the same State passed a resolution in
January, 1868, to withdraw its consent to it).
Illinois ratified it January 15, 1867.
West Virginia, January 16, 1867.
Kansas, January 18, 1867.
Maine, January 19, 1867.
Nevada, January 22, 1867.
Missouri, January 2(), 1867.
Indiana, January 29, 1867.
Minnesota, February 1, 1867.
Rhode Island, February 7, 1867.
Wisconsin, February 13, 1867.
Pennsylvania, February 13, 1867.
Michigan, February 15, 1867.
Massachusetts, March 20, 1867.
Nebraska, June 15, 1867.
Iowa, April 3, 1868.
Arkansas, April 6, 1868.
Florida, June 9, 1868 .
Louisiana, July 9, 1868.
Alabama, July 13, 1868.
Georgia again ratified the amendment February
2, 1870.
Texas rejected it November 1, 1866, and ratified
it February 18, 1870.
Virginia rejected it January 19, 1867, and ratified
it October 8, 1869.
The amendment was rejected by Kentucky,
January 10, 1867 ; by Delaware, February 8, 1867;
by Maryland, March 23, 1867; and was not after-
ward ratified by either State.
T)ie Fifteenth Atneiulment. — The fifteenth article
was submitted to the Legislatures of the several
States, there being then thirty-seven States, by a
resolution of Congress passed February 27, 1869, at
the first session of the 41st Congress; and was
ratified according to a proclamation of the Secrtary
of State dated IMarch 30, 1870, by the Legislatures
of the following States:
Nevada. March 1,1869.
West Virginia, March 3, 1869.
North Carolina, March 5, 1869.
Louisiana, March 5. 1869.
Illinois, March 5, 1869.
Michigan, March 8, 1869.
Wiscf)nsin, March 9, 1869.
Massaehu.-;ptts, .March 12. 1869.
Maine, March 12, 1869.
South Carolina, March 16. 1869.
Pensylvania, March 26, 1869.
Arkansas, March 30, 1869.
*New York, April, 14, 1869.
Indiana, Mav 14, 1869.
Connecticut," May 19, 1869.
Florida, June 15, 1869.
New Hampshire, July 7, 1869.
Virginia, October 8, 1869.
Vermont, October 21, 1869.
Alabama, November 24, 1869.
Missouri, January 10, 1870.
Mississippi, January 15 — 17, 1870.
*Ohio, January 27, 1870.
Georgia, February 2, 1870.
Iowa, Februarys, 1870.
Nebraska, February 17, 1870.
Texas, February 18, 1870.
Rhode Island, January 18, 1870.
Kansas, January 18—19,1870.
Minnesota, February 19, 1870.
tNew Jersey ratified this amendment February
21, 1871. Subsequent to the proclamation of the
Secretary of State.
Calitornia, Delaware, Kentucky, Maryland and
Tennessee rejected this amendment.
Rel.\tion of the President of the United States
TO N.^TioNAL Legislation.
The Constitution enacts that the President shall
from time to time give to Congress information
of the State of the Union, and recommend to their
consideration such measures as he shall deem
necessary and expedient ; he may, on extraordinary
occasions, convene both houses, or either of them,
and in case of disagreement between them with
respect to the time of adjournment he may adjourn
them to such time as he shall judge proper.
"Every bill which shall have passed the House of
Representatives and the Senate shall, before it be-
comes a law, be presented to the President of the
United States; if he approve, he shall sign it; but
if not, he shall return it with his objections to that »
house in which it shall have originated. * * * *
If any bill shall not be returned by the President
within ten days (Sundays excepted) after it shall
have been presented to him, the same shall be a
law, in like manner as if he had signed it, unless
the Congress, by their adjournment, prevents its
return, in which case it shall not be a law." There
is a similar provision in regard to "every order,
resolution, or vote to which the concurrenci'
of the Senate and House of Representatives may
be necessary (except on a question of adjourn-
ment.)"
Where a House bill is allowed to become a law
by the failure of the President to return it, it is
usual for him to notify the House of that fact ;
and so also where he appioves a bill, giving also
the date of approval.
Where the President is prevented by adjourn-
ment from returning a bill with his objections, it
is usual for him at the next session to communicate
to the house where it originated his reasons for
not approving it.
Art. JJ, A7nendmenls to the Co7ist!tution, requires
that the certificate of electoral votes in the respect-
ive States for President and Vice-President shall
be opened by» the President of the Senate in the
presence of the Senate and House of Representa-
tives, and the vote shall then be counted.
*Ne\v York withdrew licr consent to the ratification
Januarv.'j. 1.S70.
■•Ohio hurt prevlonslv rciertert the Aineiuliiiprit. May 4. 1869.
+Ne«- .lersey had iirevioiisl.v rejeeted the .\moiidmient.
U X 1 T EDS T A T E S 0 F A M ERICA
1539
Congress shall be in session on the second
Wednesday in February succeeding every meeting
I'f the electors, and the certificates, or so many of
rhera as have l)een received, shall then be opened,
the votes counted, and the persons to fill the offices
of President and Vice-President ascertained and
declared agreeable to the Constitution.
It is further provided by the IJth At-tirlc of
Amfnthiicntii to CanKt., that if no person have a
majority of tlie electoral votes for President, "tlien,
from the persons having the highest numbers, not
exceeding three, on the list of those voted for as
President, the House of Kepresentatives shall
choose immediately, by ballot, the President. But
in choosing the President the votes shall be taken
by States, the representation from each State
having one vote; a quorum for this purpose shall
consist of a member or members from two-thirds
of the States, and a majority of all the States shall
be necessary to a choice. And if the House of
Kepresentatives shall not choose a President,
whenever the right of choice shall devolve upon
them, before the fourth day of ]March next follow-
ing, then the Vice-President shall act as President,
as in the case of the death or other constitutional
disability of the President."
In anticipation of the choice of President devolv-
ing upon it, the House of Representatives of the
second session, Eighteenth Congress, adopted a set
of rules for its government in said election.
Pbovision" for Conducting the Presidenti.\l
Administration in C.\se of the De.\th of
THE President .\nd Vice-President.
The act of Congress entitled "An act to provide
for the performance of the duties of the office of
President in case of the removal, death, resigna-
tion, or inability both of the President and Vice-
President," approved January 19, 1886 (Ist sess.
49th Congress), Statutes, vol. 24 page 1, enacts :
That in case of removal, death, resignation, or inability of
both the President and Vice-President of the United States,
the Secretary of State, or if there be none, or in case of his
removal, death, resignation, or inability, then the .Secretary
of the Treasury, or if there be none, or in case of his removal,
death, resiKnation, or inability, then the Secretary of War,
or if there be none, or in case of his removal, death, resig-
nation, or inability, then the Attorney-General, or if there
be none, or in case of his removal. "death, resignation, or
inability, then the Postmaster-General, or if there be none, or
in case of his removal, death, resignation or inability, then
the Secretary of the Navy, or if there be none, or in case of
bis removal, death, resignation, or inability, then the Secre-
tary of the Interior, shall act as President iintil the disabil-
ity of the President or Vice-President is removed or a Presi-
dent shall be elected : Proi-M^^, That whenever the powers
and duties of the office of President of the United States
shall devolve upon any of the persons named herein, if Con-
gress be not then in session, or if it would not meet in ac-
cordance with law within twenty days thereafter it shall be
the duty of the person upon whom said powers and duties
shall devolve to" issue a proclamation convening Congress in
extraordinary session giving twenty days notice of the time
of meeting.
Sec. 2. That the preceding section shall only be held to de-
scribe and apply to such offices as shall have been appointed
by the advice and consent of the Senate to the offices therein
named, and such as are eligible to the office of President
under the Coustitution. and not under impeachment by the
House of Representatives of the United States at the time
the powers and duties of the office shall devolve upon them
respectively.
Sec. 3. That sections 146. 147, 149, and 150 of the Revised
Statutes are hereby repealed.
Presidextiai, Cabinet Administr.ations.
The follov.ing is a full list of the Presidential
Administrations of the United States from the date
of the adoption of the Constitution to .Jan. 1, 1892.
Firsl . 1 (hii hi islratiiin.
President: George Washington, of Virginia.
Vice-President : John Adams, of Massachusetts.
Secretaries of State : Thomas Jefferson, of Virginia
Sept. ■-'(>, 17S9; Edmund Randolph, of Virginia,
Jan. 2, 1794; Timothy Pickering, of Massachu-
setts, Dee. 18, 1795.
Secretaries of the Treasury: Alexander Hamilton,
of New York, Sept. Il,'l789 ; Oliver Wolcott, of
Connecticut, Feb. 3, 1795.
Secretaries of War : Henry Knox, of Massachu-
setts, Sept. 12, 1789; Timothy Pickering, of Mas-
sachusetts. Jan. 2, 1795; James McHenry, of
Maryland. Jan. 27, 1796.
Secretaries of the Navy. No navy department was
organized during Washington's administration.
Postmasters-general: Samuel Osgood, of MaiBa-
chusetts, Sept. 26, 1789; Timothy Pickering, of
Massachusetts, Nov. 7,1794; Joseph Habersham,
of Georgia, Feb. 25, 1795.
Attorneys-general: Edmund Randolph, of Vir-
ginia, Sept. 26, 1789; AVilliam Bradford, of Penn-
sylvania, Jan. 27, 1794; Charles Lee, of Virginia,
Dec. 10, 1795.
Seco7id Administration — 1797 to ISOl.
President : John Adams, of Massachusetts.
Vice-President: Thomas Jefferson, of Virginia.
Secretaries of State: Timothy Pickering, contin-
ued in office ; John Marshall, of Virginia, May
13,1800.
Secretaries of the Treasury : Oliver Wolcott, con-
tinued in office; Samuel Dexter, of Massachu-
setts, Dec. 31, 1800.
Secretaries of War: James McHenry, continued in
office; Samuel Dexter, of Massachusetts, May 13,
1800; Roger Griswold, of Connecticut, Feb. 3,
1801.
Secretaries of the Navy : George Cabot, of Massa-
chusetts, Ma v 3, 1798, declined; Benjamin Stod-
dert, of Maryland, May 21, 1798.
Postmaster-general: Joseph Habersham, continued
in office.
Attorney-general : Charles Lee, continued in
office.
Third Administration— ISOl to 1809.
President: Thomas Jefferson, of Virginia.
Vice-Presidents: Aaron Burr, of New York, from
1801 to 1805; George Clinton, of New York, from
March 4, 1805.
Secretary of State : James Madison, of Virginia,
March 5, 1801.
Secretaries of the Treasury : Samuel Dexter, con-
tinued in office; Albert Gallatin, of Pennsylva-
nia, Jan. 26, 1802.
Secretary of War : Henry Dearborn, of Massachu-
setts, March 5, 1801.
Secretaries of the Navy : Benjamin Stoddert, con-
tinued in office ; Robert Smith, of Maryland, Jan.
26, 1802; Jacob Crowninshield, of Massachusetts,
March 2, 1805.
Postmasters-general: Joseph Habersham, contin-
ued in office ; Gideon Granger, of Connecticut.
Jan.26, ].>^02.
Attorneys-general : Levi Lincoln, of Massachu-
setts, ^larch 5, 1801 ; Robert Smith, of Maryland.
March 3, 1805; John Breckinridge, of Kentucky,
Jan. 17. 1806; Ciesar A. Rodney, of Delaware,
Jan. 20, 1807.
Fourth Administration— 1S09 to 7S17.
President: James Madison, of Virginia.
Vice-Presidents: Georee Clinton, of New York,
died April 20,1812; Elbridge Gerry, of Massa-
chusetts, March 4, 1813— died Nov. 23, 1813.
Secretaries of State : Robert Smith, of JIaryland,
ilarch 6, 1809 ; James Monroe, of Virginia, April
2. 1811.
1540
UNITED STATES OF x\ M E R I C A
Secretaries of the Treasury: Albert (Tallatin, con-
tinued in office ; George W. Campbell, of Tennes-
see, Feb.9, 1814; Alexander J. Dallas, of Penn-
sylvania, Oct. H, 1814.
Secretaries of War: William Eustis, of Massachu-
setts. March 7, 1809; .Jolin Armstrong, of New
York, Jan. 13. 1813; James Monroe, of Virginia,
Sept. 27, 1814, acting secretary ; William H.Craw-
ford, of Georgia. JIarch 3, 1815.
Secretaries of the Xavy : Paul Hamilton, of South
Carolina, March 7,1890; William Jones, of Penn-
sylvania, Jan. 12, 1818; Benjamin W. Crownin-
shield, of Massachusetts, Dec. 17, 1814.
Postmaster-general: Gideon Granger, continued
in office; Return J. Meigs, of Ohio, March 17,1814.
Attorney-general : Ca?sar A. Rodney, continued in
office; William Pinckney, of Maryland, Dec. 11,
1811; Richard Rush, of Pennsylvania, Feb. 10,
1814.
Fifth Administration — 1S17 to lS-25.
President : James Monroe, of Virginia.
Vice-President : Daniel D. Tompkins, of Xew York.
Secretary of State: John Quincy Adams, of Mass-
achusetts, March 5, 1817.
Secretary of the Treasury : \\'illiam H. Crawford,
of Georgia, March 5, 1817.
Secretaries of War: Isaac Shelby, of Kentucky,
March 5, 1817, declined the appointment ; George
Graham, of West Virginia, April 7, 1871 ; John C.
Calhoun, of South Carolina, Oct. 8. 1817.
Secretaries of the Navy: Benjamin W. Crownin-
shield, continued in office; Smith Thompson, of
New York, Nov. 9,1818; John Rogers.of Massachu-
setts, Sept. 1,1823; Samuel L. Southard, of New
Jersey, Sept. 16, 1823.
Postmaster-general : Return J. Meigs, continued
in office; John McLean, of Ohio. June 26, 1823.
Attorneys-general: Richard Rush, continued in
office; William Wirt, of Virginia, Nov. 13, 1817.
Sixth Administration — 1825 to 18i!9.
President : John Quincy Adams, of Massachusetts-
Vice-President : John C. Calhoun, of South Caro-
lina.
Secretary of State: Henry Clay, of Kentucky,
March 7, 1825.
Secretary of the Treasury : Richard Rush, of Penn-
sylvania, March 7, 1825.
Secretaries of War: James Barbour, of Virginia,
March 7, 1825; Peter B. Porter, of New York,
May 26, 1828.
Secretary of the Navy: Samuel L. Southard, con-
tinued in office.
Postmaster-general: John McLean, continued in
office.
Attorney-general: William Wirt, continued in
office.
Seventh Administration — lS:i9 to 1837.
President: Andrew Jackson, of Tennessee.
Vice-Presidents: John C. Calhoun, of South Caro-
lina— resigned Dec. 28, 1832; Martin Van Buren,
of New York, March 4, 1833.
Secretaries of State: Martin Van Buren, of New
York, March 6, 1829; Edward Livingston, of
Louisiana, May 24, 1831 ; Louis McLane, of Del-
aware. March 29, 1833; John Forsyth, of Georgia,
June 27, 1834.
Secretaries of the Treasury: Samuel D.Ingham,
of Pennsylvania, March 6. 1829; Louis McLane,
of Dela%vare, Aug. 8, 1831 ; William J. Duane, of
Pennsylvania, May 29, 1833 ; Roger B. Taney, of
Maryland, Sept. 23, 1833— not confirmed by the
Senate; Levi Woodbury, of New Hampshire, June
27, 1834.
Secretaries of War: John II. Heatou, of Tennes-
see, March 9, 1829; Lewis Cass, of Michigan, Aug-
1, 1831— resigned Nov. 1836.
Secretaries of the Navy: John Branch, of North
Carolina, March 9, 1829; Levi Woodbury, of New-
Hampshire, May 23, 1831 ; Mahlon Dickerson, i.f
New Jersey, June 30, 1834.
Postmaster-general: William T. Barry, of Ken-
tucky. March 9, 1829. Pre'-ious to this date the
postmaster-general had not been recognized as
a member of the president's cabinet. Amos Ken-
dall, of Kentucky, May 1, 1835.
Attorneys-general: John M,.Pherson Berrien, of
Georgia, March 9, 1829 ; Roger B. Tai:ey. of Mary-
land, Dec. 27, 1831 ; Benjamin F. Butler, of New
York, June 24, 1834.
Eighth Administration — lSo7 to IS4I.
President : Martin Van Buren, of New York.
Vice-President: Richard M. Johnson, of Kentucky.
Secretary of State: John Forsyth, continued in of-
fice.
Secretary of the Treasury: Levi Woodbury, con-
tinued in office.
Secretary of War: Joel R. Poinsett, of South Caro-
lina, March 7, 1837.
Secretaries of the Navy : Mahlon Dickerson, con-
tinued in office; James K. Paulding, of New
York, June 20. 1838.
Postmasters-general: Amos Kendall, continued in
office ; John M. Niles, of Connecticut, May 18,
1840.
Attorneys-general: Benjamin F. Butler, continued
in office; Felix Grundy, of Tennessee, July 7,
1838; Henry D. Gilpin, of Pennsylvania, Jan. 10,
1840.
Ninth Administration — IS4I to 1845.
President: William Henry Harrison, of Ohio. Died
Apri 4, 1841, when John Tyler, theVice-President,
became President.
Vice-President : John Tyler, of Virginia.
Secretaries of State: Daniel Webster, of Massachu-
setts, March 5, 1841— resigned May 8, 1843; Hugh
S. Legar^, of South Carolina. May 9, 1843, died
June 20, 1843; Abel P. Upshur, of Virginia, July
24, 1843— killed by the bursting of a cannon, Feb.
28,1844; John Nelson, of Maryland (acting sec-
retary). Feb. 29. 1.S44; John C. Calhoun, of South
Carolina, March 6, 1S44.
Secretaries of the Treasury : Thomas Ewing, of
Ohio. March .5, 1841— resigned Sept. 11, 1841;
AValter Forward, of Peiisylvania, Sept. 13, 1841 —
resigned March 1, 1843: Caleb Gushing, of Mass-
achusetts, rejected bj the Senate ; John C. Spen-
cer, of New York. March 3. 1843; George M. Bibb,
of Kentucky, June 15. 1844.
Secretaries of War: John Bell.of Tennessee, March
5, 1841 — resigned Sejit. 11. 1841 : John McLean, of
Ohio, Sept. 13, 1841, declined : John C. Spencer, of
New York, Oct. 12, 1841; James M. Porter, of
Pennsylvania. March 8. 1843, rejected by the Sen-
ate; AVilliam Williams, of Pensylvania, Feb. 16,
1844.
Secretaries of the Navy : George E. Badger, of
North Carolina, March 5, 1841— resigned Sept. 11,
1.S41 ; Abel P. Upshur, of Virginia. Sept. 13, 1841 ;
David Henshaw. of Massachusetts, July 24. 1843,
rejected by the Senate; Thomas W. Gilmer, of
Virginia, Feb. 15. 1844— died Feb. 28, 1844; John
Y. Jlason, of Virginia. March 14, 1844.
Postmasters-general: Francis Granger, of New
York, March 6, ].'J41— resigned Sept. 12. 1841;
Charles A. WicklilTe. of Kentucky, Sept. 13,
1841.
UNITED STATES OF AMERICA
1541
Attorneys-general : John J. Crittenden, of Ken-
tucky, March 5, 1S41— resigned Sept. 11, 1841;
Hugh S. Legare. of South Carolina, Sept. 13, 1841 ;
John Nelson, of Maryland, July 1, 1843.
Tenth Administration — 184S to 1849.
President : James K. Polk, of Tennessee.
Vice-President : George M. Dallas, of Pennsylvania.
Secretary of State : James Buchanan, of Pennsylva-
nia, March 5, 1845.
Secretary of the Treasury : Robert J. Walker, of
Mississippi, March 5, lS4o.
Secretary of War : William L. Marcy, of New York,
March 5, 1845.
Secretaries of the Navy : George Bancroft, of Mas-
sachusetts, March 10, 1845; John Y. Mason, of
Virginia, Sept. 9, 1846.
Postmaster-general : Cave Johnson, of Tennessee,
March 5, 1845.
Attorneys-general : John Y. Mason, of Virginia,
March 5, 1845 ; Nathan Clifford, of Maine, Oct. 17,
1846; Isaac Toucey, of Connecticut, June 21, 1848.
Eleventh Administration — 1849 to ISSS.
President : Zachary Taylor, of Louisiana. Died
July 9, 1850, and was succeeded by the Vice-Pres-
ident.
Vice-President : Millard Fillmore, of New York.
Secretaries of State: John 31. Clayton, of Delaware,
March 7, 1849— resigned July 10, 1850; Daniel
Webster, of Massachusetts, July 20, 18.50 — died
Oct. 24. 1852; Edward Everett, of Massachusetts,
Dec. 9, 1852.
Secretaries of the Treasury : William M. Meredith,
of Pennsylvania, March 7, 1849 — resigned July 10,
1850 ; Thomas Corwin, of Ohio, July 20, 1850.
-Secretaries of War : George W. Crawford, of Geor-
gia, March 7, 1849— resigned July 10, 1850; Will-
iam A Graham, of North Carolina, July 20, 1850 —
resigned July 15, 1852 : John P. Kennedy, of Mary-
land, July 22, 18.52.
Secretaries of the Interior (a new offlce) : Thomas
Ewing, of Ohio, March 7, 1849 — resigned July 10,
1850 ; James A. Pearce, of Maryland, July 20, 1850 ;
T. McKennon, of Pennsylvania, Aug. 15, 18.50, and
died soon afterwards ; Alexander H. H. Stuart,
of Virginia, Sept. 12, 18.50.
Postmasters-general : Jacob Collamer, of Vermont,
March 7, 1849— resigned July 10, 1850; N. K. Hall,
of New York, July 20, 1850 — resigned Aug. 1852;
Samuel D. Hubbard, of Connecticut, Aug. 31,
18.52.
Attorneys-general: Reverdy Johnson, of Maryland,
March 7, 1848— resigned July 10, 1850; John J.
Crittenden, of Kentucky, July 20, 1850.
Twelfth Administration — 1853 to 1857.
President : Franklin Pierce, of New Hampshire.
Vice-President : William R. King, of Alabama.
Died April 18,1853.
Secretary of State: WilliamL.Marcy.of New York.
March 5, 18.53.
Secretary of the Treasury: James Guthrie, of Ken-
tucky, March 5, 18.53.
Secretarv of War : Jefferson Davis, of Mississippi,
March 5, 1853.
Secretary of the Navy : James C. Dobbin, of North
Carolina, March 5, 1853.
Secretary of the Interior : Robert McCleUan, of
Michigan, March 5. 1853.
Postmaster-general : James Campbell, of Pennsyl-
vania, March 5, 1853.
Attorney-general : Caleb Gushing, of Massachusetts,
March 5, 1853.
Tliirteenth Administration — 1857 to 1861.
President : James Buchanan, of Pennsylvania.
Vice-President : John C. Breckenridge. of Kentucky.
Secretaries of State: Lewis Cass, of Michigan.
March 6. 1857— resigned Dec. 14, 1860. Jere-
miah S. Black, of Pennsylvania, succeeded him.
Secretaries of the Treasury : Howell Cobb, of Geor-
gia, March 6, 1857— resigned Dec. 10, 1860; Philip
F. Thomas, of Maryland — resigned Jan. 11, 1861 ;
John A. Dix, of New York.
Secretaries of War : John B. Floyd, of Virginia,
March 6, 1857 — resigned Dec. 29, 1860; Joseph
Holt, of Kentucky, Dec. 30, 1860.
Secretarv of the Navy : Isaac Toucey, of Connecti-
cut, March 6, 1857.
Secretary of the Interior: Jacob Thompson, of
Mississippi, March 6, 1857 — resigned Jan. 8, 1861.
Postmasters-general : Aaron V. Brown, of Tennesee,
March 6, 1857— died March 8, 1859; JosephHolt, of
Kentuckv, July, 1859; Horatio King, of Maine,
Feb. 12, l"861.
Attorneys-general : Jeremiah S. Black, of Pennsyl-
vania, March 6, 1857 ; Edwin M. Stanton, of Ohio,
Dec. I860.
Fourteenth Administration — 1861 to 1869.
Presidents: Abraham Lincoln, of Illinois, died April
15, 1865. Andrew Johnson, of Tennesee, succeed-
ed Abraliam Lincoln, April 15, 1865.
Vice-Presidents: Hannibal Hamlin, of Maine; An-
drew Johnson, of Tennessee, March 4, 1865 — died
July 31, 1875.
Secretary of State: William H. Seward, of New
York. March, 1861.
Secretary of the Treasury: Salmon P. Chase, of
Ohio, March, 1861; William P. Fessenden, of
Maine, Sept., 1864; Hugh McCuUoch, of Indiana,
March, 1865.
Secretaries of War: Simon Cameron, of Pennsyl-
vania, March, 1861 ; Edwin M. Stanton, of Ohio
Jan., 1862.
Secretary of the Navy : Gideon Welles, of Connecti-
cut, March. 1861.
Secretaries of the Interior: Caleb B. Smith, of In-
diana, March, 1861 — resigned Dec. 1862 ; John P.
Usher, of Indiana, Jan., 1863; James Harlan, of
Iowa, May, 1865; O. H. Browning, of Illinois. July,
1866.
Postmasters-general: Montgomery Blair, of Mary-
land, March, 1861 ; William Dennison, of Ohio,
Oct., 1864; Alexander W. Randall, of Wisconsin,
July, 1866.
Attorneys-general : Edward Bates, of Missouri,
March, 1861 ; James Speed, of Kentucky, Dec,
1864; H. F. Stansberry, of Kentucky, July, 1866.
Fifteenth Administration — 1869 to 1877.
President: Ulysses S. Grant, of Illinois.
Vice-Presidents: Schuyler Colfax, of Indiana;
Henry Wilson, of Massachusetts, March 4, 1873.
Secretaries of State : Elihu B. Washburne, of Illi-
nois, March 5, 1869; Hamilton Fish, of New York,
March 11, 1869.
Secretaries of the Treasury : George S. Boutwell. of
Massachusetts. March 11,1860: William A. Rich-
ardson, of Massachusetts, March 17, 1873; Benja-
min H. Bristow, of Kentucky, June 2, 1874; Lot
M. Morrill, of Maine, June 21, 1876.
Secretaries of AVar : John A. Rawlins, of Illinois,
March 11, 1869; William T. Sherman, of Ohio,
Sept. 9, 1869;.William W. Belknap, of Iowa, Oct.
25, 1869.
Secretaries of the Navy : Adolph E. Borie, of Penn-
sylvania, March 5, 1869; George M. Robeson, of
New Jersey, June 25. 1869.
1542
UNITED STATES OF AMERICA
Secretaries of the Interior : Jacob D. Cox, of Ohio,
March 5, 1869; Columbus Delano, of Ohio, Nov. 1,
1870 ; Zachariah Chandler, of Michigan, Oct. 19,
1875.
Postmasters-general: John A. J. Creswell, of Jlary-
land, March 5, 1869; James W. Marshal, of Penn-
sylvania, July 3, 1874; ^larshall Jewell, of Con-
necticut, Aug. 24, 1874; James N. Tyner, of Indi-
ana, July 12, 1876.
Attorneys-general: Ebenezer E. Hoar, of Massa-
chusetts, March 5, 1869; Amos T. Akermai>, of
Georgia, June 23, 1S70; George H. Williams, of
Oregon, Jan. 10, 1872; Edwards Pierrepont, of
New York, May 15, 1875; Ali)honso Taft, of Ohio,
May 22, 1876.
Sixteenth Ailinirii.itraliou — 1S77 to ISSl.
President: Rutherford B. Hayes, of Ohio.
Vice-President: William A. Wlieeler, of New York.
Secretary of State : William M. Evarts, of New
York, March 12, 1877.
Secretary of the Treasury: John Sherman, of Ohio,
March 8, 1877.
Secretaries of War : George W. McCrary, of Iowa,
March 12, 1877; Alexander Ramsey, of Minne-
sota, Dec. 10,1879.
Secretaries of the Navy : Richard W. Thompson, of
Indiana, March 12, 1877; Nathan Goff. Jr., of
West Virginia, Jan. 6, 1881.
Secretary of the Interior : Carl Schurz, of Missouri,
March 12, 1877.
Postmasters-general: David M. Key, of Tennessee,
March 12, 1877; Horace Maynard, of Tennessee,
June 2, 1880.
Attorney-general: Charles Devens, of Massachu-
setts, March 12, 1877.
Seventeenth Ad7ninistrntion — 1S81.
President: James A. Garfield, of Ohio — died Sept.
19, 1881, when Vice-President Chester A. Arthur,
of New York, became president.
Vice-President: Chester A. Arthur, of New York,
succeeded to the presidency Sept. 19, 1881.
Secretaries of State: James G. IJlaine, of Maine,
March 5, 1881 ; F. T. Frelinghuvsen, of New Jer-
sey, Dec. 12, 1881.
Secretaries of the Treasury : William Windom, of
Minnesota, March 5, 1881 ; Charles J. Folger, of
New York, Oct. 27, 1881.
Secretary of War : Robert T. Lincoln, of Illinois,
March 5, 1881.
Secretary of the Navy : William H. Hunt, of Louis-
iana, Rlarch 5, 1881.
Secretary of the Interior : Samuel J. Kirkwood, of
lo-wa, March 5, 1881.
Postmasters-general : Thomas L. James, of New
York, March 5, 1881 ; Timothy O. Howe, of Wis-
consin, Dec 20, 1881.
Attorneys-general: Wayne ^loVeatrh, of Pennsyl-
vania, March 5, 1881 ; Benjamin Harris Brewster,
of Pennsylvania, Dec. 16, 1881.
Eighteenth Admin intrntion—lSS'i to 1SS9.
President : Grover Cleveland, of New York.
Vice-President: Thomas A. Hendricks, of Indiana.
Secretary of State : Thomas F. Bayard, of Dela-
ware, JIareh 5, 188.5.
Secretary of the Treasury: Charles S. Fairchild,
of New York, March .5, 1885.
Secretary of War: William C. Endicott, of Massa-
chusetts, March r,, 1SS5.
Secretary of the Navv : AVilllam C. Whitney, of
New York. March 5, 1885.
Secretnry of the Interior: Lucius Q. C. Lamar, of
Wisconsin, ^larch 5, 1885.
Postmaster-General: William F. Vilas, of Wis-
consin, March 5, 1885.
Attorney-General : Augustus H. Garland, of Ar-
kansas, March 5, 1885.
. Nineteenth Ad)iii)ii.itrat(On — JSS!) to 1893.
President: Benjamin Harrison, of Indiana.
Vice-President : Levi P. ilorton, of New York.
Secretary of State : James G. Blaine, of Maine.
Secretary of the Treasury : William Windom, of
Minnesota, died Jan. 29, 1891;* John N. Foster,
of Ohio."
Secretary of War : Redfield Proctor, of Vermont.
Secretary of the Navy; Benjamin F. Tracy, of New
York.
Secretary of the Interior : John W. Noble, of
Indiana.
Postmaster-General : John Wanamaker, of Penn-
sylvania.
Attorney-General : William H. H. Miller, of
Indiana.
Sec'y of Agriculture : Jeremiah M. Rusk, of Illinois.
FoRM.\TioN OP States and Territories.
Alabama — From territory ceded to United States by
South Carolina and Georgia. Admitted Dec. 14,
1819.
Arkansas — From territory ceded by France. Ad-
mitted June 15, 1836.
California — From territory ceded by Mexico. Ad-
m'itted Sept. 9, 1850.
Colorado — From portion of territory ceded by
France and Mexico. Admitted Aug. 1, 1876.
Columbia, District of — From territory ceded by
Maryland and Virginia. Established as seat of
government July 16, 1790. Alexandria retroceded
July 1846.
Connecticut — One of the thirteen original States.
Ratified Constitution Jan. 9, 1788.
Delaware — One of the thirteen original States. Rat-
ified Constitution Dec. 7, 1787.
Florida — From territory ceded by Spain. Admit-
ted March 3, 1845.
Georgia — One of the thirteen original States. Rat-
ified Constitution Jan. 2, 1788.
Idaho — From Territory of Idaho. Admitted July
3, 1890.
Illinois — Out of territory ceded by Virginia. Ad-
mitted Dec. 3, 1818.
Indiana — From territory ceded by Virginia. .\d-
mitted Dec. 11,1816.
Iowa — From part of Wisconsin Territory. Admif-
ted Dec. 28, 1846.
Kansas — Composed of territory ceded by France
and the State of Texas. Admitted Jan. 29, 1861.
Kentucky — From the territory of Virginia. Admit-
ted Jiine 1, 1792.
Louisiana — From territorv ceded by France. Ad-
mitted April 8, 1812.
Maine — Out of part of territory of Massachusetts.
Admitted March 15, 1820.
Maryland — One of the thirteen original States.
Ratified Constitution April 28, 1788.
Massdchusi'tfs — One of the thirti en original States.
Ratified Constitution Feb. 6, 1788.
Michigan — From territory ceded by Virginia. Ad-
mitted Jan. 26, 1837.
Minnesota — From territory ceded by France. Ad-
mitted May 11, 1S58.
Mississijipi — From territory ceded by Georgia and
South Carolina. Admitted Dec. 10. 1817.
* .Secretary Windom immediately after closiue a lenpthy
and very able speech at a liani|iiet of tlie New York Chamber
of Commerce, suddenly expired Jan. 2y. I.s91, aped (j:>.
U K I T !•: I) STATES OF A M ERIC A
1513
MUsuti!-: — From territory ceded bv France. Admit-
ted .4 ug. 10, 1821.
ifontuKi — Territory of Montana. Admitted Nov.
8, ISSV.
Xehraska — From territory ceded by France. Ad-
mitted March 1, 1867.
.\,rada — From territory obtained from Mexico.
Admitted Oct. 31. 1864.
New Ha}i>pshire — One of the thirteen original States.
Ratified Constitution June 21, 1788.
New /('/Sfi/ — One of the thirteen original States.
Ratified Constitution Dec. 18, 1787.
New York — One of the thirteen original States.
Ratified Constitution .July 2(i, 1788.
North Carolina — One of the thirteen original States.
Ratified Constitution Nov. 21, 1789.
North Dakota — From Territory of Dakota. Admit-
ted Nov. 2. 1889.
Ohio — Out of territory ceded by Virginia. Admit-
ted Nov. 29, 1802.
Oregon — From territory included in treaty with
France. 1803, and Spain, 1819, and Great Britain,
18i6. Admitted Feb. 14, 1859.
Pennsyh'ania — One of the thirteen original States.
Ratified Constitution Dec. 12, 1787.
Rhode Island — One of the thirteen original States.
Ratified Constitution May 29, 1790.
South Carolina — One of the thirteen original States.
Ratified Constitution May 23, 1788.
South Dakota — From Territory of Dakota. Admit-
ted Nov. 2, 1889.
Tennessee — Out of territory ceded by North Caro-
lina. Admitted June, 1796.
7>.ra.< — Independent republic. Admitted Dec. 29,
1845.
Vermont — From part of the territory of New York.
Admitted March 4, 1791.
Virginia — One of the thirteen origiiial States. Rat-
ified Constitution June 26, 1788.
Washington — From Territory of Washington. Ad-
mitted Nov. 11, 1889.
West Virginia — Formed out of a portion of the State
of Virginia. Admitted Dec. 31. 1862.
Wisconsin — From part of the territory of Michigan.
Admitted May 20. 1848.
Wyoming — From Territory of AVyoming. Admitted
July 10, 1890.
Arizona ] The Territorial governments, when
established by Congress and organi-
New Mexico zed, send Delegates (one for each Ter-
^ritory) to the House of Representa-
Ohlahoma fives, who are present at its delibera-
tions, with a right of moving aniend-
Utah ) ments and debating, but not of voting.
Apportionments of Coxgression.\l Rephbsext.a-
TIONS.
The Constitution ( Sec. 2, of Fourteenth Amend-
ment ) provides that " Representatives shall be ap-
portioned among the several States according to
their respective numbers, counting the whole num-
ber of persons in each State, excluding Indians not
taxed. " This provision amended the first para-
graph of clause 3, Section 2, of Article 1 of the
original Constitution. Congress, under authority
of the quoted clause of the Constitution passed the
Census Act of March 1, 1790; the Act of Feb. 25,
1791, providing that Kentucky and Vermont should
have two Representatives each until the next ap-
portionment ; and the Act of April 14, 1792 — this
last being the first Apportionment Act passed
under the Census of 1790. This Act fixed the total
number of Representatives at 105, distributed as
shown in the 2d column of the table. The subse-
quent apportionment Acts under several suc-
cessive Censuses bore dates and made provision as
to ratios of representation and number^of Repre-
sentatives as follows :
Second Census (1800).— .\ct of Jan. 14, 1802, ratio
1 to 33,000; number of Representatives, 141.
77inrf Census (1810).— Act of Dec. 21,1811; ratio of
representation, 1 to 35,000; number of Rep-
resentatives, 181.
Forth Census (1820).— Act of ^March 7, 1822; ratio
of representation, 1 to 40,000; number of Represen-
tatives, 212.
Fijth Census {1830).— Act of May 22,1832; ratio
of representation, 1 to 47,700; number of Represen-
tatives, 212.
Sixth Census (.\S40).— Act of June 25,1842; ratio
of representation, 1 to 70,680 ; and "' 1 additional
menilier for each State having a fraction greater
than one moiety of said ratio;" number of Repre-
sentatives, 223. Under the following named Sup-
plement Acts, additional Representatives were
assigned until after the next Census and Appor-
tionment as follows; namely : Act of May 29, 1842,
3 for AVisconsin ; Act of Dec. 29, 1845, 2 for Texas ;
Act of Aug. 4. 1846, 2 for Iowa ; and Act of Sept. 9,
1850, 2 for California.
Seventh Census (1850). — Under the Census Act of
May 23, 1850, the House was to be composed of 233
members to be apportioned among the States as fol-
lows, viz :
Sec. 2.5. And bt it J'urtlitr tuacttd. That so goon as the uext
and each subsequent enumeration of the inhabitants of the
several States, directed by the Constitution of the United
States to be taken, shall be completed and returned to the
ot!]ce of the Department of the Interior, it shall be the duty
of the Secretary of the Interior to ascertain the aggregate
representative population of the I'uitcd States, by adding to
the whole number of free jiersons in all the States, including
those bound to service for a number of years, and excluding
Indians not taxed, three-tifths of all o'ther persons, which
aggregate population he shall divide by the number two
hundred and thirty-three, and the product of such division,
rejecting any fraction of a unit, if any such happen to remain,
shall be the ratio or rule of apportionment of Representa-
tives among the several States under such enumeration;
and the said Secretary of the Department of the Interior shall
then proceed, in the same manner, to ascertain the represen-
tative population of each State, and to divide the whole num-
ber of the representative population of each State by the
ratio already determined by him. as above directed, and the
product of this last divisioii shall be the number of Repre-
sentatives apportioned to such State binder the then last
enumeration ; Provided, That the loss in the number of mem-
bers caused by the fractions remaining in the several States
on the division of the population thereof shall be compen-
sated for by assigning to so many States having the largest
fractions one additional member each for Its fraction as may
be necessary to make the whole number of Reftresentalives
two hundred and thirty-three; And provided a^«o. That, if,
after the apportionment" of the Representatives under the
next or any subsequent census, a new State or States shall
be admitted into the Union, the Representative or Represen-
tatives assigned to such new State or States shall be in addi-
tion to the number of Representatives hereinabove limited,
which excess of Representatives over two hundred and thir-
ty-three shall only continue until the next succeeding
census.
The ratio of representation under this census
was fixed at 1 to 93,420; and under following Acts
two additional Representatives were assigned as
follows, namely : Under Act of Feb. 26, 1857, one
for Minnesota, and under Act of Feb. 14, 1859, one
for Oregon.
Eighth Census (1860).— Act of March 4, 1862,
fixed the number of members of the House after
^larch 3, 1863, at 241, the eight additional members
being assigned one each to Pennsylvania, Ohio.
Kentucky, Illinois, Iowa, Minnesota, Vermont, and
Rhode Island. The ratio of Representatives
was fixed at 1 to 127,381.
Ninth Census (1870).— Act of Feb. 2, 1872, provided
that after March 3, 1873, the House should be com-
posed of 293 members. The remainder of the Act
was as follows :
Section 2. That in each State entitled under this law to
more than one Representative, the number to which said
1544
UNITED STATES OF AMERICA
states shall be entitled In the Forty-third, and each subse-
quent Congress, shall be elected by districts composed of
contiguous territory, and containing as nearly as practicable
an equal number of inhabitants, and equal in number to the
number of Representatives to which said States may be en-
titled in Congress, no one district electing more tlian one
Representative: Providrd, That iu the election of Repre-
sentatives to the Forty-third Congress in any State which
by this law is given an increased number of Re'presentatives ;
The additional Representative or Representatives allowed to
such State may be elected by the State at large and the other
Representatives to which the State is entitled by the dis-
tricts as now prescribed by law in said State, unless the
Legislature of said State shall otherwise provide before the
time fixed by law for the election of Reju-esentatives therein.
Sec. 3. That the Tuesday next after the first Monday iu
November, in the year 1876, is hereby fixed and established
as the day, in each of the States and territories of the
United States, for election of Representatives and Delegates
to the Forty-ninth Congress; and the Tuesday next after the
first Moudiiv in November, in every second year thereafter, is
hereby fixed and established as the day for the election, in
each of said States and Territories, of Representatives and
Delegates to the Congress commencing on the fou.rth day of
March next thereafter.
Sec. 4. That if. upon trial, there shall be a failure to
elect a Representative or Delegate in Congress in any State,
District, or Territory, upon the day hereby fixed and estab-
lished for such election, or if. after any such election, a va-
cancy shall occur in any such State, District, or Territory,
from'death, resignation, or otherwise, an election shall be
held to fill any vacancy caused by such failure, resignation,
death, or otherwise, at'such time'as is or may be provided by
law for filling vacancies in the State or Territory in which
the same may occur.
Sec. h. Tliat no State shall be hereafter admitted to the
Union without having the necessary population to entitle it
to at least one Representative according to the ratio of rep-
resentation fixed on this bill.
Sec. 0. That should any State, after the passage of this
act, deny or abridge the right of any of the male inhabitants
of such State, being twenty-one years of age, and citizens of
the United States, to vote at any election named in the
amendments to the Constitution, article fourteen, section
two, except for participation in the rebellion or other crime,
the number of Representatives apportioned in this act to
such State shall be reduced in the proportion which the num-
ber of such male citizens shall have to the whole number of
male citizens twenty-one years of age in such State.
Under this Census the ratio of Representatives
was 1 to 131,425.
By the act of May 30. 1872, entitled "An act sup-
plemental to an act entitled 'An act for the appor-
tionment of Representatives to Congress among
the several States according to the Ninth Census,'"
the representation in the House of Representa-
tives was further increased as follows, viz :
That from and after the third day of March, eighteen hun-
dred and seventy-three, the following States shall }»e entitled
to one Representative each in the Congress of the United
States in addition to the number apportioned to such States
by the act entitled "An act for the apportionment of Repre-
sentatives to Congress among the several States according
to the Ninth Census," approved February second, eighteen
hundred and seventy-two, to wit: New Hampshire. Vermont,
New York, Pennsylvania, Indiana, Tennessee, Louisiana,
Alabama, and Florida, and be elected by separate districts,
as in said act directed: Provided, That in the election of
Representatives ti the Forty-third Congress only, in any
State which by th s law is given an increased number o"f
Representatives, the additional representative allowed to
such State may be elected by the State at large, unless the
legisL.ture of said State shall otherwise provide before the
time fixed by law for the election of Representatives there-
in.
Tenth Census (1880).— The act of Feb. 25, 1.S.S2,
enacted as follows :
Section 1. That after March S.ISR.'?. the House of Representa-
tives shall be composed of ;S25 members, to be apportioned as
follows: [See in table under column 1880. next T»nge.]
SEC. 2. That whenever a new State is admitted to the Union,
the Representative or Representatives assigned to it shall be
in addition to the number 3*25.
Sec .S. That iu each State entitled under this apportion-
ment the numl)er to which such State may be entitled in the
forty-eighth and each subsequent Congress shall be ele^■^ed
by districts com7>osed of contiguous territory, and contain-
ing as nearly as j)racticable an equal number of inhabitants,
and eqtial in number to the Representatives to which such
State may be entitled in Congress, no one district electing
more than one Representative: Pntnidid, 1\niX, unless the
Legislature of such State shall otherwise provide before the
election of such representatives shall take place as provided
by law, where no change shall be hereby made in the repre-
sentation of a State, the Representatives thereof to the-
forty-eighth Congress shall be elected therein as now pro-
vided by law. If the number as hereby provided for shall
be larger than it was before this change, then the additional
Representative or Representatives allowed to said State un-
der this apportionment may be elected by the State at large,
and the other Representatives to which the State is entitled
by the districts as now prescribed by law in said State: and
if the number hereby provided for shall in any State be less
than it was before the change hereby made, then the whole
number to such State hereby provided for shall be elected at
large, unless the Legislatures of said States have provided or
shall otherwise provide befoie the time fixed by law for the
next election of Representatives therein.
All acts and parts of acts inconsistent herewith ar« hereby
repealed.
The ratio of representation under the Tenth
Census was 1 to 151,912.
The act of February 22, 1889, providing for the
admission of the Stitcs of Montana, North Dakota,
South Dakota, and Washington, increased the rep-
resentation in the House to three bundled and
thirty membfrs, which was further increased by
the acts of July 3 and 10, 1890, admitting the
Ptates of Idaho and Wyoming, to three hundred
thirty-two members.
Eleventh C(nisvs (1890).— The Act of Congress'
fixing the ratio of representation for ensuing
Quadrennium at 1 to 173,901; the total number of
Representatives at 356; and the number of Repre-
sentatives for the States severally shown in the
last column of the Table of Assignments to the sev-
eral States.
Election and Rights of Territorial Delbg.^tes
TO Congress.
Every Territory sliall have the right to send a
Delegate to the House of Representatives of the
Vnited States, to serve during each (Jongress, who
shall be elected by the voters in the Territory
qualified to elect n embers of the legislative assem-
bly thereof. The person having the greatest num-
ber of votes shall be declared by the governor
duly elected, and a certificate shall be given ac-
cordingly. Every such Delegate shall have a
seat in the House of Representatives, with the
right of debating, but not of voting.
The first election of a delegate in any Territory
for which a temporary government is hereafter
provided by Congress shall be held at the time and
places and in the manner the governor of such Ter-
ritory may direct, after at least sixty days' notice,
to be given by proclamation ; but at all subsequent
elections therein, as well as at all elections for a
Delegate in organized Territories, such time,
places, and manner of holding the election shall be
prescribed by the law of each Territory.
The Speaker shall appoint from among the Dele-
gates one additional member on each of the fol-
lowing committees, viz.: Coinage, AVeights and
Pleasures; Agriculture; Jlilitary Affairs; Post-
Offices and Post-Roads; Public Lands; Indian
Affairs; Territories; Private Land Claims, and
Mines and Mining; and they shall possess in their
respective committees tlie same powers and priv-
ileges as in the House, and may make any motion
except to reconsider. — Rii.e XH.
In the organization of the Llouse, the names of
Delegates are called over after those of members,
and before taking their seats the same oath or
affirmation is administered as in the case of mem-
bers.
The right of a Delegate to sulimit a resolution is
recognized by Rri.E XII. and it is also competent
for him to submit any motion which a member
may make, except the motion to reconsider, which
is dependent on the right to vote.
UNITED STATES OF AMERICA
1545
NlMBBR OF ReHKESENTATIVKS IX CoXGRESS ASSIGNED
TO States and Territories.
The following table shows the number of Repre-
sentatives to Congress assigned to each of the
United States previous to 1790, and from 1790 to
1S90:
States and Terri-
tories.
ay
8
i
•1
1
3
5
•1
7
1
•2
7
2
2
6
3
3
8
4
4
*1
8
5
6
1
i
Alabama
q
fi
California
7
o
Connecticut
5
1
7
1
7
1
7
2
6
1
6
1
4
1
*1
8
4
1
1
8
4
1
1
7
4
1
2
9
4
1
2
10
»1
20
13
11
7
11
6
4
6
12
U
5
7
14
•1
3
1
2
7
34
9
*1
21
1
28
2
7
•2
10
11
2
10
*1
4
9
1
4
1
•1
3
2
4
6
7
9
11
Idaho
Illinois
»1
*1
1
3
3
7
7
10
-2
9
11
2
14
11
0
*1
9
5
5
5
10
6
2
5
9
19
13
9
3
10
6
5
6
11
9
3
6
13
w
n
11
H
Kentucky
•2
6
10
*1
7
9
20
12
v\
10
4
7
6
10
3
10
4
6
6
11
4
*2
5
7
11
3 1 3
7 ! S
6
4
Maryland
Massachusetts
Michigan
6
8
8
14
9
17
9
13
8
12
*1
6
13
1"
7
n
1
n
2
2
4
5
7
Missouri
It
1
Nebraska
*1
*1
3
5
31
7
1
1
3
6
33
8
H
Nevada
1
New Hampshire
New Jersev .
3
4
6
5
4
5
10
10
5
6
17
12
6
6
27
13
6
6
34
13
5
6
40
IS
4
5
34
9
3
5
33
8
2
n
New York
S4
North Carolina
North Dakota
9
1
Ohio
*1
6
14
19
21
21
*1
25
2
6
19
1
24
2
4
20
1
27
2
5
"1
Fennsylvania.
Rhode* Island
South Carolina
South Dakota
8
1
6
13
2
6
18
2
8
23
2
9
26
2
9
2«
2
9
24
2
7
30
2
7
n
3
6
9
IS
11
10
2
3
13
8
4
3
11
10
6
3
9
in
Texas
1
IS
*2
19
4
22
6
23
5
22
5 1
Virginia
10
12 i-"^
10
•'
West Virginia
*3
6
3
8
4
•2
3
10
1
•Arizona
lOklahoina
JUtah
♦Admitted into tlie Union after the apportionment under
which they are here arranged was made, but before the suc-
ceeding census.
fPrevious to March 3, 1820, Maine formed part of Massachu-
setts, and was called The DtMrict 0/ Maine, and its represen-
tatives were numbered with those of Massachusetts. By
compact between Maine and Massachusetts, Maine became a
separate and independent State, and by an act of Congress of
March 3, 1820, was admitted into the Union as such— the ad-
mission to take place on the loth of the same month. On
April 7,1820, Maine was declared entitled to seven Represent-
atives, to be taken from those of Massachusetts.
JTerritory— Not yet admitted to full representation in
House.
Note.— Ratios of representation: 1790 and 1800,1 to a3.900;
1810, :»,000; 1820,40.000; 18.30.47,700: 1810.70,680: 1850.93.420;
1860, 127,000; 1870, 131,425; 1880, 151,912; 1890, 1 to 173,912.
State Constitvtions and State Govern.ments.
By the constitutions of all the States except
New York. Pennsylvania, Ohio, Wisconsin, Kan-
sas, and Delaware, the powers of government are
divided into three distinct departments — the legis-
lative, executive, and judicial.
Tliere is in each State and Territory a legisla-
ture. In twenty it is called the General AssembJy;
:n Oregon and all the Territories, the Leqislatire
Assembly; and in New Hampshire and Massachu-
setts, the Genera/ Co/nV, consisting of a senate (in
the Territories a council) and a house of represen-
tatives, called in New York, Wisconsin, California,
Nevada, and Florida the Assemhiij; in Maryland,
Virginia, West Virginia, the House of Delegates,
and in New Jersey the General Assembly.
In all the States there is a governor, who is the
executive authority, and there is also generally a
lieutenant-governor. But when there is no lieuten-
ant-governor the president of the senate succeeds
if the governor dies or becomes incapable. His
powers are similar to those of the President of
the United States. The following are some of the
qualifications required in the various States:
No person, in eleven States, can be a governor
unless he is a citizen of the United States; in
three, he must have been so for two years; in five,
for five years; in Florida, nine years; in four, ten
years; in one, twelve years; in Georgia, fifteen
years, and in New Jersey and Mississippi, twenty
years. He must also have been resident for
periods varying from one year to ten.
In some States the governor must not be less
than twenty-five years of age, in most thirty years,
and in two (Kentucky and ^Missouri), thirty-five.
'In Delaware he is not eligible a second time for
office. In Tennessee he is not eligible for more
than six years in any term of eight. So in Oregon,
for not more tlian eight years in any period of
twelve years; in Indiana, for not more than four
years in any term of eight.
By the constitutions of seven States, the gover-
or is not eligible for reelection for any two succes-
sive terms, unless the office devolved upon him.
In Georgia he is not eligible for four years after
the second term.
In Massachusetts, he must be possessed of a free-
hold estate, in his own right, of the value of
$5,000. He is elected directly by the people, and,
not like the President, through a college of elect-
ors. His term of oflice varies from four years in
sixteen States to three years in three States, two
years in eighteen States, and a year in two States
(iMassachusetts and Rhode Island).
Both the senate and the house are in all States
elected at the general election day, and vacancies
in either house are generally filledin the same way
by special election; but in New Hampshire and
Maine vacancies are so filled by election only in
the house; a vacancy in the "senate is filled by
joint ballot of the legislatures : so in Massachusetts
vacancies in the Senate are filled by special elec-
tion, upon the order of a majority of the senators
elected.
A senator, by the constitution of most States, is
elected for four years ; in New Jersey for three
years, in several for two years, and in" two (Mas-
sachusetts and Rhode Island) for one year.
Half the senators are in many States elected at
each general election, the other half holding over;
but in two, one-third are elected at each general
election, the others keeping their seats.
Representatives are usually elected for two
years, but in Louisiana they are elected for four
years, and in Massachusetts, Rhode Island, New
York and New Jersey their tenure of office is only
for one year. As a rule no person can be a State
senator who is not a citizen of the United States,
and in Maine he must have been thus qualified
for four years.
Residence in the State is also required for terms
varying from one year in eight States to four years
in five, six years in one ( Kentucky), and seven
years in one (New Hampshire), besides which he
must have been usually resident in the senatorial
district for which he is a candidate for various
periods ranging from one year to three months,
and in Illinois and Louisiana for two years.
1546
UNITED STATES OF AMERICA
To be eligible as a State senator a candidate
must have paid a State and county tax within one
year of election. By the constitution of Delaware
no person can be a senator who is not possessed of
a freehold estate of 200 acres, of a personal or
mixed estate of the value of $5,000.
ay the constitutions of fourteen States, no per-
son can be a representative in the lower house of
the State legislature who is not a citizen of the
United States, and in Maine he must have been so
for five years. And in many he must have been
resident in the State for a certain period, varying
from one year in seven of the States to five years
in two (Illinois and Louisiana). In nine of the
States he must also be a quafifled elector of the
Srate, and in nearly, if not quite all, he must have
been resident in the district for which he is chosen
for a period varying from sixty days in Iowa to two
years in Illinois and Louisiana.
In thirteen States a representative loses his seat
it he ceases to reside in the district, and in six he
must be a qualified elector in such district.
In fourteen States a candidate must be twenty-
one years of age at the time of his election, in
three, twenty-four (Delaware, Kentucky, and Mis-
souri), and in Colorado twenty-five.
In Massachusetts the constitution forbids any
property qualification for the State Legislature or
council.
The following persons are disqualified from sit-
ting in the State legislature:
In Nebraska any person interested in a contract
with or an unadjusted claim against the State.
In Delaware, any person concerned in any army
or navy contract.
In West Virginia, any salaried officer of a rail-
road.
In Kansas and Georgia, every person convicted
of embezzlement of the public funds.
In Delaware, every person who has served as a
State treasurer, before his accounts have been set-
tled and discharged.
In Georgia, any person who has not paid his
legal taxes.
In West Virginia and South Carolina, any person
who has been convicted of bribery, perjury, or
other infamous crime, or who has not accounted
for public money intrusted to him.
In most States provision is made by the consti-
tution that members of the legislature shall re-
ceive compensation. In several it cannot be
increased or diminished during the term for which
they are elected, and in two (Missouri and Texas)
it cannot be altered at all by the legislature at any
time, the amount being fixed by the constitution.
In fourteen States no member of Congress is eli-
gible for the State legislature.
Members of the legislature are, by the constitu-
tions of most of the States, required to make oath
to support the National, and the State (if in a
State) constitutions, and in one (Arkansas) to sup-
port the Union, and in five that they have not
bribed anybody, and in four that they will not ac-
cept a bribe for giving or withholding a vote, or
for doing any duty relating to their olfice, and in
three (Kentucky, Texas, and Nevada) that they
have not been concerned in a duel.
The mode of election is in twelve States by bal-
lot ; but in Kentucky all election by the people
must be riva voce, except that dumb persons may
vote by ballot. By the constitution of nearly all,
the person having the highest number (in a plur-
ality) of votes is declared duly elected; but in
Ivhode Island, in all elections held by the peo-
ple, a majority of votes cast is necessary to a
choice. (Kentucky now has the Australian ballot.)
By the constitution of Illinois (each district
voting for three representatives) each voter may
cast as many votes for each candidate as there
are State representatives to be elected, or may
distribute his votes among the candidates as he
sees fit.
In nearly all the States and Territories elec-
tion day is fixed by the constitution or statutes
for the first Tuesday after the first Monday in
November; (1) biennially in the even years in
twenty-one States; (2) biennially in the odd years
in three States; (3) annually in nine States; the
remainder vary as to their day.
The right of suffrage is given to every male
citizen of the United States aged twenty-one or
who has declared his intention of becoming a cit-
izen.
Under the head of "Qualifications of Voters" w ill
be found a table giving the requirements of the
constitutions of the several States in respect to
suffrage. It is believed to be substantially ac-
curate, but will be verified before republication
in the next edition, and additional matter given.
By the constitution of all the States, exept Ne-
braska and Oregon, an impeachment is first made
by the House of Representatives, and is tried by
the Senate sitting as a court under oath, except in
New York, when it is tried by the Senate and the
judges of the court of appeals.
Two-thirds of the Senators elected must, in fif-
teen States, concur for conviction ; and in nine-
teen, two-thirds of the Senators present. In New
Hampshire, Massachusetts, Alabama, and Missis-
sippi a vote of a quorum is sufficient; but in Ne-
braska the impeachment is first made by the
Legislature in joint convention upon resolution in
either house, and a majority of elected members
must concur; audit is then tried bji the judges of
the Supreme court.
The effect of impeachment is, by the constitu-
tions of all but ^Maryland and Oregon, merely to
remove from office, and in all the States, except
five, to disqualify the person impeached from hold-
ing any other State appointment.
A person impeached, whether convicted or not
on the impeachment, is nevertheless liable, by the
constitutions of all the States, except Indiana and
IMaryland, to indictment, trial, and punishment
according to law.
By the constitutions of thirty-two States eitlier
house may (8) expel any of its members by a vole
of two-thirds of the elected members, and in Ver-
mont, by a majority vote of a quorum. But in
twenty-iive States no member can be expelled a
■second time for the same cause, nor in Vermont,
^Michigan, or Arizona for any cause known to liis
constituents before his election.
In Michigan and Arizona the reason for expulsien
must be entered in the journal, with the names of
the members voting.
In Pennsylvania, Arkansas, Colorado, and Ala-
bama a member expelled for corruption is not
thereafter eligible for either house.
Each house has in thirty of the States power to
punish its members for disorderly conduct; and in
many, either house may punish any person, not a
member, for disorderly or contemptuous conduct,
such punishment not to extend beyond the final
adjournment of the session, and in others, by dif-
ferent terms of imprisonment, varying from thirty
days to twenty-four hours.
The constitutions of all the States provide that
each house shall be the judge of the qualifications,
elections, and returns of its members.
In most cases it is provided that each house shall
I choose its own officers, except in certain cases the
UNITED STATES OF AMERICA
1547
vrt?sideiu of tlie senate, which place is filled (1) in
eiglueen States by the lieutenant-governor, (2) in
Rhode Island by the governor or lieutenant-gover-
nor or tlie seoreiiiry of state. In all other States
it is enacted that each house shall determine the
rules of its own proceedings.
By the constitutions of nearly all of the States a
majority of elected members in eitlier house con-
stitutes a quorum, Init in five two-thirds are neces-
sary. In New Hampshire a majority is a quorum
in the house, but when less than two-thirds are
present a two-thirds vote is necessary to any act or
proceeding, and in the senate thirteen are neces-
sary to a quorum, and when less than sixteen are
present a vote of ten is necessary, and in Massa-
chusetts sixteen memljers constitute a quorum in
the senate and one hundred in the house. But a
smaller number than a quorum may, in thirty-two
States, adjourn from day to day and compel the
attendance of abst-nt niemliers. Freedom of speech
is guaranteed by the constitutions of most of the
States, as well as freedom from arrest in all cases ex-
cept treason, felony, and breach of the peace during
the session of the legislature, and in going and
returning. In Michigan, Wisconsin, California, and
Arizona the privilege from arrest (except as above)
lasts during tlie whole of tlie time that they are
members of the legislature.
In most of the legislatures it is provided by the
constitutions that the proceedings shall be open to
flie public, except on such occasions as may, in the
opinion of the house, require secrecy.
The regular session of the legislature is in one
State ( Rhode Island) twice a year; in ilassachu-
setts. New York, New .fersey, and South Carolina,
once a year; and in others every two years, in the
even or the odd year as the case may be.
There are, however, often adjourned sessions
held in the intervening year, except in Pennsyl-
vania, where they are prohibited. The length of
the session is limited in many of the States, thus:
In Indiana the limit is sixty-one days ; in Colorado
and Georgia, forty days; in six States and two
Territories, sixty days; in Maryland, ninety days;
in Alabama, thirty days; West Virginia, forty-five
days.
Extra sessions on extraordinary occasions may
be convened by the governor, but no such extraor-
dinary session can be called in the Territories with-
out the approval of the President of the United
States. In Virginia an extra session is convened
on the application of two-thirds of the members;
in West Virginia, on application of three-fifths of
the elected members, except on extraordinary oc-
casions.
In West Virginia, Kentucky, and Georgia the
ordinary session may be continued by a two-thirds
■"•ote, and in Virginia the session may be continued
for thirty days beyond the time limited, upon the
concurrence of three-fifths of the members.
By the constitutions of all the States, neither
house can adjourn without the consent of the other
for more than three or two days (as the case
may be).
In most States, if the two houses disagree with
respect to the time of adjournment, the governor
may adjourn the legislature to such time as he
thinks proper, with certain limitations, such as not
beyond the first day of the regular session in fifteen
States; for not more than ninety days in New
Hampshire, Massachusetts, and Delaware, and not
exceeding four months in Pennsylvania, and Ken-
tucky ; no limit being given in Vermont and
Georgia.
Amendments to the constitution of a State may
be proposed by the State legislature for confirma-
6
tion by the people of the State (except in Ken-
tucky and New Hampshire), or the citizens may be
asked to decide on the advisability of holding a con-
vention for the revision of the constitution. If a
convention is decided upon, the amendments made
by it are referred for ratification or rejection to
the vote of the people.
Length of Congressional Sessions.
As stated elsewhere the Congressional terms are
for two full years beginning at noon, IMarch 4, of'
each alternate year; the Congressional sessions
generally begin on the first Monday in December
of each year, and continue until formal adjourn-
ment, which cannot be later than noon of Jlarch 4,
of each ^econd year. The following table gives the
numbers of the several Congresses, and the number
and dates of the sessions during each Congressional
term.
Congress.
1st
2d
3d
4th
5tli
6th
7th
8th
9th
10th
11th
12th
13th
14th
15th
16th
17th
18th
19th
20th
21st
22d
23d
24th
25th
26th
27th
28th
29 th
30th
31st
32d
1 1st Sessiou From
/ 2d From
(3d From
Time of Session.
(1st
From
i2d
From
(Ist
From
i2d
From
) 1st
Frtim
i2d
From
(1st
From
{ 2d .-.
From
(.3d
From
Ust
From
i2d
Ust
From
!2d
From
(1st
From
I2d.
From
i 2d
From
(1st
From
iad.;;
(1st
From
.2d
(3d
1 1st
From
i2d
From
(1st
From
2d
From
(3d
(Ist
From
|2d
From
\ 1st
From
■( 2d .
From
( 1st
From
)2d
( 1st
From
J2d
( 1st
From
i2d
From
(1st
From
(2d
From
(Ist
From
i2d
From
(1st
From
i2d
From
Ust
From
(2d
(1st
From
r-'d
From
) 1st
From
lad
From
(1st
2d
From
From
(3d
From
(1st
From
|2d
(' 1st .
From
'2d
From
(3d
From
Ust
From
i2d.
From
i 1st
From
|2d
From
Ust
From
J2d
( 1st
From
i2d
Ust
From
■/■id
From
March 4,
January 4.
December 6,
Octolier 24,
November 5.
December 2.
No\'tmber 3,
December 7,
December 5,
May 15,
November 13,
December 3,
December 2,
November 17,
December 7,
December 6,
(Jctober 17,
November 5,
December 2,
December 1,
October 26,
November 7,
May 22.
November 27,
December 3,
November 4.
November 2,
May 24,
Decemljer 6.
.September 19,
December 4,
December 2,
December 1.
November 16,
December 6,
November 13,
December 3,
December 2,
December 1,
December 6,
December 5,
December 4,
December 3,
December 1,
December 7,
December 6,
December 5,
December 3,
December 2,
December 1,
December 7,
December 5,
.September 4,
December 4.
December 3,
December 2,
December 7,
May 31,
December 6,
December 5,
December 4,
December 2.
December 1,
December 7.
December 6,
December 4.
December 3.
December 2,
December 1.
December r>.
1789, to Sept.
1790. to August
1790. to March
1791, to May
1792. to March
1793, to June
mn, to March
1795, to June
1796, to March
1797, to July
1797, to July
1798, to March
1799, to May
INW, to March
l.soi. to May
1802, to March
1803, to March
1804, to March
1805, to April
1806, to March
1807, to April
1808, to March
1809, to June
1809, to May
IMO, to March
1811, to Julv
1812, to March
1813, to August
1813, to April
1814, to March
1815, to April
1816, to March
1817, to April
1818, to March
1819, to May
1820, to March
1S21, to May
1822, to March
1823, to May
1824, to March
>25, to May
l.s'Jf), to March
1827, to May
1828, to March
1829, to May
1830, to March
1831, to July
1832, to March
],S,S3, to June
1834, to March
1835, to July
1836, to March
1837, to Oct.
1837, to July
1838, to March
1839, to July
1840, to March
1841, to Sept.
1841. to August
1812, to March
1813, to June
1814, to March
1815, to August
1.S46. to March
l.'*47. to August
l.MS. to March
1849. to Sept.
1850. to JIarch
1851. to August
1852. to March
29, 1789
12. 1790
3, 1791
8. 1792
2, 1793
9, 1794
3, 1795
1, 17%
3, 1797
10, 1797
16, 1798
3, 1799
14, ISOO
3, 1801
3, 1802
3. 1803
27, 1804
3, 1805
21, 1806
3. 1807
25. 180(>
3. 1809
28, Ih09
1, I.'-IO
3, i.--n
6. 1812
3. 1.M3
2, im:;
18, 1W4
3, 1815
30, 1816
3, 1817
20, 1818
3, 1819
15, 1820
3, 1821
8, 1822
9, 1823
27, 1824
3, 1825
22, 1826
3, 1827
26, 1828
3, 1829
31, 1830
3, 1831
16, 1832
3, 1833
30, 1834
3, 1835
4, 1836
3, 18.37
16, 1837
9, 1838
3, 1K19
21. 1840
3, 1811
13. 1841
31. 1844
3. 18iS
17. 1844
3. 1815
10. 1846
3. 1847
14. 1S4S
3, 1849
30, 1860
3, 1851
31, 1852
R. 1853
1548
L N I T E D STATES OF A iM E R I C A
Congress.
xith j
;;r.th j
:f7tli j
;isth j
S9th j
40tbJ
4'd ]
43d j
41th !
46th ■
47th i
48th j
49th j
50th j
Slst I
62d ■
Time of Session.
1st
From December ' 5,
From December 4,
From December 3,
From .August 21,
From December 1.
From December 7,
From December 6,
From December 6,
From December 3,
From July 4,
From December 2,
From December 1,
From December 7,
From December 5,
From December 4,
From December 3,
From March 4,
From July 3,
From November 21,
From December 2,
From December 7,
From March 4,
Fioin December 6,
Fioni December 5,
Krom March 4,
From December 4,
From December 2,
Fiom December 1.
From De<'ember 7,
From December 6.
From December 4,
From October 1.5,
F'rom December 3,
From December 2,
From March 18
From December 1,
From December 6,
From December 5,
From December 4,
From December 3,
From December 1
From December 7,
J'rom December 6
From December 5
From December 3
From Decemljer 2
From December 1
From December 7
From December 5
18!i3,
2d
1854,
1st ....
ISoo,
2d
1856,
Sd
18.'>K.
1st
1S57.
2d
1S.'>8,
1st
2d
1^5',l,
18(10,
1st
1861.
2d
1861,
3d
I«62,
1st
2d
1863,
1864,
1st
I860,
2d.
Isi
1866.
1867,
1st
1st
2d
3d
1st
2d
3d.
1st
1867,
x867,
lSo7,
186S.
1869,
18r.9,
1870,
1871.
2d .
1871,
3d
1st
2d
1st
2d
1st
2d
3d
1872,
1873,
1874,
1875,
1.S76,
1877,
1877,
1878,
1st
1879,
2d
3d
1879,
1880,
1st
1881,
2d
18.82,
1st
2d
1st
1883,
18S4,
18.S.5.
2d
18S6,
1st
18S7,
2d
1st
18^8,
18S9,
2d
1.S90,
1st
2d
1891,
1892,
to August 7,
to March 3,
to August 18,
to August 30,
to March 3,
to June 14,
to March 3.
to June
to March
to August
to July
to March
to July
to March
to July
to March
to March
to Jujy
to Dec.
to July
to March
to April
to July
to March
to April
to Juue
to March
to June
to March
to August 15,
to March 3,
to Dec. 3,
to June iO,
to March 3,
to July 1,
to Juue 10,
to March 3.
to August
to March
to July
to March
to Aupust
to March
to Oct.
to March
to Oct.
to March
to March
, to March
25,
6,
17,
3,
4,
3,
28,
2
.iu',
20,
2
27,'
3,
23,
15,
2U,'
10,
3,
23,
1854
1835
1856
18.56
1857
1858
1850
1860
1861
1861
1S>62
1863
1864
1865
1866
1867
i867
1867
1867
1868
1869
1869
1870
1S71
1871
1872
1873
1874
1875
1876
1877
1877
1878
1879
1879
1880
1881
1882
1883
1884
1885
1886
1887
1888
1889
1890
1891
1892
1893
Note.— To determine tlie years covered by a given Congress,
double the number of the Congress, and add the i)roduct to
1798; the result will be the year in which the Congress closed.
Thus, the 35th Congress = 70 + 17.89 = 1859, that being the
year which terminated the 35th Congress, on the 4th of
March. To find the number of a Congress sitting in any
given year, subtract 17.89 from the year; if the result is an
even n'umber. half that n\imber will give the Congress, of
which the year in qtiestion will be the closing year. If the
result is an odd number, add one to it, and half tlie result will
five the Congress, of which the year in question will be the
rst year.
E.XTRA Congressional Sessions.
The Congressional lirm. is for two years begin-
ning at noon on March 4 every odd year, and
terminating at noon on March 4, of the next odd
year. The general elections for members of the
House of Representatives take place the first Tues-
day after the first ^Monday in November of rren
years severally preceding the opening of tlie Con-
gressional term. In case of vacancies, however,
the election may occur at other dates but in all
cases the term closes at noon of March 4, of the odd
years.
The sessions of Congress open on the first Monday
of December in every year unless they are by law
specially appointed for a different date. In the
foregoing list of dates for the several Congresses,
the dates of the "extra sessions" are not spe-
cifically given. For greater convenience of refer-
ence they are properly classified in the follow-
ing tables showing the dates when convened, the
number of the Congress in which they took place,
with the number of the session in that Congress.
and the date of the passage of the act providing
for the holding of the extra session."
The first table shows the list of the "extra ses
aions" called by Congress itself :
When convened.
Congress.
Session.
Date of pas
sage of act.
March 4, 1789:
1st
First ....
•1788, Sept., 13
1789, Sept. 29
1791, Mar. 2
1st Monday in Jan., 1790. .
1st
Second. .
4th Monday in Oct., 1791.. 2nd
First ....
1st Monday in Nov., 1792. 2ud
Second. .
1792, May 5
1st Monday in Nov., 1794.
3rd
Second..
1794, May fit
1st Monday in Nov., 1797.
5th
First ...
1797, Mar. 3
Changed to 2d Monday in
5th
Second..
+1797, July 1
Nov. 1797.
3d Monday in Nov., 1800 ..
6th
Second. .
1800, May 13
1st Monday in Nov.. 1803.. 8th
First ....
1803, Mar. 3
1st Monday in Nov.. 1804. .'8th
Second. .
1804, Mar. 26
1st Monday in Nov., 1808..
10th
Second..
1808, Apr. 22
4th Monday in Mav.1809..
nth
First.. .
1809, Jan. m
4th Monday in Nov., 1809.
nth
Second .
1809, June -li
1st Monday in Nov., 1812..
12th
Second. .
1812, July 6
4th Monday in May, 1813..
13th
First
1813, Feb. 27
1st Monday in Dec 1813..
13th
Second. .
1813, July 27
Last Monday in Oct., 1814.
13th
Third...
1814, Apr. 18
Sd Monday in Nov., 1818.,
15th
Second. .
1818, Apr. 18
2d Monday in Nov.,l»20..
16th
Second. .
1820, May 13
March 4, 1867
40th
First....
11867, Jan. 22
March 4, 1869
41st
First
11867, Jan. 22
tl866, Jan. 22
March 4, 1871
42nd
First
♦The First Session of the First Congress was convened in
accordance with the following resolution of the Continental
Congress, adopted Sept. 13, 1788, namely:
"Ji'(*;o?('rrf, </c., That the first Wednesday in January next
be the day for appointing electors in the several "States
which before the said day shall have ratified the said Con-
stitution; that the first VVednesday in February next be the
day for the electors to assemble in" their several states and
vote for a President; and that the first Wednesday in March
nest be the time, and the present seat of Congress the place,,
for commencing proceedings under the said Constitution.
f Repetiled the act of March 3rd. 1797.
iThe act of Jnu. 22. 1867, provided that in additiou to the
regTilar times of meeting of Congress, there shall be a meet-
ing of the Congress of the United States, and of each sue
ceedmg Cong]"ess thereafter, at 12 o'clock meridian, on the
fourth day of March, the day on A\l)ich the term begins for
which the Congress is elected. That act was repealed by
the act of April 20. 1871. (17 Statutes 12.)
List of Extra Sessions of Congress Convened hy the
President.
The President * * may, on extraordi-
nary occasions, convene both Houses or either of
them.
Session.
When con-
vened.
Congress.
Session.
Cause.
V
First . . .
First . . .
First . . .
First . . .
Tliird...
First . . .
First . . .
Second.
First ...
First . . .
First ..
May 15, 1797
Oct. 17, 1803
Oct. 26, 1807
Nov. 4, 1811
Sept. 19, 1814
Sept. 4, 1837
May 31, 1841
Aug. 21, 1856
July 4, 1861
Oct. 15. 1877
Mar. 18, 1879
Suspension of diplomatic
relations with France.
Cessions of Louisana by
Spain to France.
Relations with Great
Britain.
Relations with Great
Britain.
War with Great Britain.
Suspension of specie pay-
ments.
Condition of finances and
revenue.
Failure of previous session
to make appropriations
for Army.
Insurrection In certain
Southern States.
Failure of previous session
to make aivpropriations
for .^rniy.
Failure of previous session
to make approprinttcn
for legislative, executive
and judicial and Army
expenses.
VIII
X
XII
XITI
XXV
XXXVII..
XXXIV..
XXXVII
XLV
XLVI
UNITED STATES OF AMERICA
1549
List of Special Sessions of the Senate from 1789 to
1SS9, Called by the President.
So.
Commencement.
-r
March4. 1791....
March 4. 1793
June 8, 1795
March 4, 1797...
Julv 17, 179S
March 4, 1,>«1 . . . .
Marchl, 1S09. ...
March 4,1S17....
March 4, l.SB
March 4, IS* . .
March 4, 1837 . . .
March 4, 1S41....
March4, 1845 .. ..
March 5. 1S19....
March 4, 1831 . .
March 4. 1S.53
March 4. !So7 . .
June 1.5. l.NoS . . .
March 4. Is59....
June 21). ISIJO
March 4, 1861
March 4, 186.3
March 4, 18iS —
April 1, 1867
April 12, 1869...
Mav 10, 1.S71
March 4, 1S7S. . . .
March 5. 1875
March 5, 1877
March 4, 1881. . . .
October 10, 1881,
March 4, 1S85 . - .
March 4, 1889. ..
Termination,
March 4, 1791
March 4,1793
June 26, 179.5
March 4, 1797
Julv 19, 1798
Mafcho, 1801
March 7, 1809
March 6, 1817
March9, 1825
March 17,1829
March 10, 1837
March 15. 1841
March 19, 1845
March 23. 1819
March 13. 1851
April 11, 185,S
March 14, 18.")7
June 16, 1S58
March 10, 1859
June 28, 1800.
March 28, 1861
March 14. 1863
March 11, 1865
April 20, 1867
April 22, 1,S69
Mav -27, 1871
Maich2r>, 1873
March 24, 1,S75
March 17, 1877.
Mav 20, l.'Wl
October 29,1881
April 2,1885
April 2, 1889
Days.
1
1
19
1
3
2
4
3
6
14
7
12
17
19
10
38
11
2
7
3
25
11
8
20
11
18
23
20
13
78
20
.SO
30
Admission to the Floor of the House op Repre-
sentatives.
The following is the rule of the House prevailing
in 1891, with regard to the admission of persons to
the floor occupied by the members of Congress:
Rule XXXIV.— The persons hereinafter named, aud none
other, shall be admitted to the hall of the House or rooms
leading thereto, viz: The President and Vice-President of
the United States and their private secretaries, Judges of the
Supreme Court, Members of Congress and Afenibers elect,
contestants in election cases during the pendencv of their
cases in the House, the Secretary aiid Sergeant-at-Arms of
the Senate, heads of Departments, Foreign Ministers, Gov-
ernors of States, the Architect of the Capital, the Librarian
of Congress and his assistant in charge of the Law Library,
sach persons as have, by name, received the thanks of Con-
gress, ex-Members of the House of Representatives who are
not interested in any claim or directly in any bill pending
before Congress, and clerks of comm'ittees vvhen business
from their committees is under consideration; and it shall
not be in order for the Speaker to entertain a request for the
suspension of this rule or to present from the chair the
request of any member for unanimous consent.
The first rule for the admission within the hall
of other than members was adopted Jan. 7, 1802,
and was confined to ".SVHo((;r.<, officers of the Gen-
eral and State Governments, foreign ministers and
such persons as members might introduce.'' Jan. 11,
1802, an attempt was made to amend so as to ex-
clude persons "introduced by members," which
failed. Nov. 8, 1804, a proposition was made to
confine the privilege to Senators, which also failed.
Dec. 17, 1805, officers of State governments were ex-
cluded. Feb. 1, 1808, a proposition was made to
admit ex-members of Congress and the judges of
the Supreme Court. After a good deal of debate it
was rejected. Feb. 11, 1S09, the rule was enlarged
so as to admit judicial officers of the United States,
as also ex-membersof Congress. Feb. 25, ISU, those
who had been heads of Departments were admitted.
Feb. 10, 1815, officers who had received the thanks
of Congress were included ; Jan. 12. 1S16, the Navy
commissioners ; Feb. 21, l.'i If), governors of States
and Territories ; and on March 13, 1822, the Presi-
dent's secretary. ,Ian. 26, 1833, the rule was further
enlarged by admitting "such persons as the Speaher
or a rneinher might introduce," and Dec. 10, 1883, the
House, by a vote almost unanimous, rescinded that
amendment. Dec. 23, 1857, soon after removing
into the new hall in the south wing of the Capitol
extension, the privilege of admission was restricted
to "members of the Senate, their secretary, heads
of Departments, President's private secretary, the
governor for the time being of any State, and
judges of the Supreme Court of the United States."
March 19, 1860, it was adopted in its present form,
excepting the last clause, a proposition to admit
ex-members having been rejected. The last clause,
adopted March 2, 1865, was intended to prevent
persons not entitled to the privilege of the hall
from occupying the cloak and other adjoining
rooms, Jan. 29, 1878, the House adopted the follow-
ing resolution, by yeas 155, to nays 92, viz : "Hesolved.
That the rule in regard to the admission of persons
to the privileges of the floor be enforced, and the
Speaker is requested to discontinue the practice of
issuing passes, which has been indulged in by com-
mon consent."
In the revision of the rules in the second session
46th Congress, the words "contestants in election
cases during the presidency of their cases in the
House" were added, so as to authorize the then
existing practice, and in the first session of the 48th
Congress the word "Congress" was striken and the
words "House of Representatives" inserted, so as
to restrict the privilege of the Hoor to ex-members
of the House of Representatives,
Veto Power op the President, and the Subse-
quent Congressional Legislature Relating
Thereto.
When a bill, having passed both houses, shall be
presented to the President of the United States,
"if he approve he shall sign it, but if not he shall
return it, with his objections, to that house in
which it shall have originated, who shall enter the
objections at large on their Journal and proceed
to reconsider it. If, after such reconsideration,
two-thirds of that house shall agree to pass the
bill, it shall be sent, together with the objections,
to the other house, by which it shall likewise be
reconsidered, and if approved by two-thirds of
that house it shall become a law. But in all such
cases the votes of both houses shall be determined
by yeas and nays, and the names of the persons
voting for and against the bill shall be entered on
the Journal of each house, respectively. If any
bill shall not be returned by the President within
ten days (Sundays excepted) after it shall have
been presented to him, the same shall be a law, in
like manner as if he had signed it, unless the Con-
gress by their adjournment prevent its return, in
which case it shall not be a law."
A similar provision is made in the case of orders,
resolutions, or votes presented to the President for
his approval.
Whenever a bill is returned to the House with
the objections of the President, it is usual to have
the message containing his objections immediately
read, and for the House to proceed to the recon-
sideration of the bill ; or to postpone its considera-
tion for a future day ; but not where less than a
quorum is present. A veto message ana a bill
may be referred, or the message alone, and the bill
may be laid on the table.
The main question in the consideration of a ve-
toed bill is, "Will the House on reconsideration
agree to pass the bill?"
The "liro-thirds" by which a vetoed bill must be
approved before it can become a law with the sig-
nature of the President, has been construed, in
looO
UNITED STATES OF AMERICA
both houses to mean "two-thirds of the members
present.
A motion to proceed to the consideration of a
vetoed bill with the objections of the President, is
a privileged question under the Constitution.
A vote on the passage of a vetoed bill cannot be
reconsidered. A motion to discharge a committee
from the further consideration of a veto message,
is a privileged question.
Whenever a bill, order, resolution, or vote is re-
turned by the President with his objections, and
on being reconsidered is passed by two-thirds of
each of the two houses of Congress, and thereby
becomes a law, or takes effect, it shall be received
by the Secretary of State from the President of the
Senate, or the Speaker of the House of Representa-
tives, in whiclisoever house it shall last have been
approved, and he shall carefully preserve the
originals. .
When the President does not approve a bill, ana
is prevented, by the adjournment of Congress from
returning it with his objections, it is usual for him
to inform the house in which the bill originated, at
the next session, of his reasons for not approv-
ing it.
Qi\\LiFic.\Tio.\-s OF Voters in the Several St.vtes.
Under the Constitution of the United States "all
persons born or naturalized in the United States,
a'ld subject to the jurisdiction thereof are citizens
of the United States and of the States wherein they
reside;" and "no State shall make or enforce any
law which shall abridge the privileges or immuni-
ties of citizens of the United States; nor shall any
State deprive any person of life, liberty, or prop-
erty without due process of law, nor deny to any
person within its jurisdiction the equal protection
of the law." In all the States except Wyoming,
the right of suffrage is limited to male citizens
twenty-one years of age, with the further excep-
tion that in Colorado, Massachusetts, and a few
other States women are permitted to vote at school
district elections. There is a great lack of uni-
formity in the suffrage laws of the several States,
as the following will show:*
ALABAMA —The voter must be a citizen , or have declared his
intention to become a citizen ; must have been in the State one
year in the county three months, and in the voting precinct
one 'month. Indians, idiots, and men convicted of crime
Arkansas —Citizens, or those who have declared their in-
tention to become such, except Indians, idiots, and crimi-
nals, may y:)te altera residence of one year iu the state, six
months in the county, and one month in the voting precinct.
Registration is prohibited, as being a bar to suffrage.
California —Only actual citizens can vote, after having
been one year in the State, ninety days in the county, and
thirty days in the voting precinct. Registration is required
bylaw; and Chinese, Indians, idiots, and convicts are ex-
CoLORADO.— Citizens, or those who have declared their in-
tention to become such, may vote after a residence o' s'/
months in the State, persons in prison only being excluded.
Registration is required by the constitution.
Connecticut.— Actual citizens, except those unable to
read and convicts, can vote after a residence of one year in
the State and six months in the county and voting precinct.
Registration is required by law. .
Delaware.— Actual county taxpayers, except convicts,
the insane, paupers and idiots,-may vote after a residence of
one year in the State and one month in the county.
FLORinA.— Citizens of the United States, or those who have
declared their intention to become such, except betters on
elections, duelists, idiots, the insane, and criminals, can vote
.■itter a residence of one vear in the State and six months in
the county. Registration is required by the constitution.
Georgia.- .\ctual citizens. except nontaxpayers, criminals,
idiots, and the insane, can vote after a residence of one year
in the State and six months in the county.
Idaho— Every male citizen of the L nited States twentj-
one years old, "who has resided in the State for six months
•Transferred in full text from the Manual and Digest of the
Hous« of Baiirsseutatives, .Ian. 1, '•Hi'-.
and in the county where he offers to vote thirty days next
preceding the dav of election, is a qualified elector, except
those under guardianship, idiotic or insane persons, or per-
sons convicted of felony, embezzlement of public funds, bar-
tering or offering to barter his vote, or of an infamous crime.
higauiists and polvgamists are also excluded.
Illinois.— Actual citizens, except convicts, may vote after
a residence of one year in the State and ninety days in the
county and thirty days in the voting precinct. Registration
is required by law. j .,. ■ ■ .
Indiana.— Citizens or those who have declared their inten-
tion so to become, except fraudulent voters and bribers, may
vote after a residence of six months in the State. sixty days
iu the county, and thirty days iu the voting precinct.
Iowa.— Actual citizens, except criminals. Idiots, and the
insane may vote alter a residence of six months in the State
and sixty 'days in the county. Registration is required by
Kansas.— Citizens, or those who have declared their Inten-
tiou to become so, except rebels, convicts, idiots, and the in-
sane, can vote after a residence of six months iu the State
and thirty days in the voting precinct. Registration is re-
quired in'cities only.
Kentuckt.— Under the State law free white male citizens,
except convicts can vote after a residence of two years in the
State, one vear in the county, and sixty days iu the voting
precinct- but the exclusion of colored citizens being in con-
flict with the Federal Constitution, the law limiting the
suffrage to white citizens is of no effect. , . . .
Louisiana.— Citizens, or those who have declared their in-
tention to become such, except criminals, idiots, and the in-
sane, can vote after a residence of one year in the State, six
months in the county, and thirty days in the voting precinct.
Maine.— Actual citizens, except paupers and Indians not
taxed, map vote after a residence of three months in the State.
Registration is required. . . , ,_ .,.
Maryland.— Actual citizens, except criminals, those guilty
of bribery, and the insane, can vote after a residence of one
' year in the State and six months in the county. Registration
IS required. ,,,..
MvssicHUSETTS.-Citizens. except paupers, illiterates, non-
taxpayers, and persons under guardians, can vote after a resi-
dence of one year in the State and six months in the voting
preciuct. Registration is required. ^ . . .
Michigan.— Citizens, or those who have declared their in-
tention of becoming such, except duelists, can vote altera
residence of three months in the State and ten days m the
voting precinct. Registration is required. . . . ■
Minnesota —Citizens, or those who have declared their in-
tention to become so, except convicts, lunatics and idiots,
can vote after a residence of four months in the State and
ten days in the voting precinct. Registration is required.
MissoURi.—Citizens. or those who have declared their in-
tention to become so. except United States soldiers, paupers,
criminals, and lunatics, can vote after a residence of one
year in the State and sixty days in the county. Registration
IS required in cities only. , . , .j- . j
Mississippi.— .\ctual citizens, except criminals, idiots, and
lunatics, can vote after a residence of six months in the
State and one month in the county. Registration is required.
Montana -Every male citizen of the United States twenty-
one years or over, who shall have resided in the State one
year immediately preceding the election at which he offers
to vote, and in the town, county, or preciuct such time as
may be prescribed by law. shall be a qualified elector, except
idiots or insane persons. Women shall have the right to
vote at any school district election. ^ .. . .
Nebraska.— Citizens, or those who have declared their in-
tention of becoming so, except United States soldiers, con-
victs, and idiots, can vote after a residence of six months in
the State. Registration is required. .,...■
\"EV ADA —Citizens, or those who have declared their in-
tention so to become, except criminals, idiots, and lunatics,
can vote after a residence of six months in the State and
thirty davs in the county. Registration is required.
New Hampshire— .Actual citizens, except paupers, can vote
after a residence of six months in the town. Registration is
required. . ...
Ne\v Jersey.- Actual citizens, except criminals, paupers,
lunatics, and idiots, can vote after a residence of one year
in the State and five months in the county. Registration is
required in cities of lO.lHXl inhabitants and over.
New York —Actual citizens, except convicts, and election
betters and bribers, mav vote aft. r a residence of one year in
the State, four months iu the county, and '.birty .days ^n the
voting [.recinct. Registration is required m cities of 10,000
inhabitants or over, . .
North CAROLiNA.-Actual citizens, except convicts, can
vote after a residence of twelve months in the State and
ninety days in the county. Registration is required.
North DAKOTA.-Evervmale person of twent^r-one years or
UD^vard who have reside'd in the State one year, in the county
six months, and in the precinct ninety days next preceeding
any election, shall be deemed qualified electors; citizens of
the United States, persons of foreign birth who have declared
their intention uf becoming citizens, and Indians who have
severed their tribal relations. No person who is under
guardianship, von compos mrntis, or insane, nor any person
convicted of treason or felony. ,, .. ..
Ohio —Actual citizens, except idiots and lunatics, can vote
after a residence of one year in the State, thirty days in the
r M T E D STATES OF AMERICA
1551
countv, aud single men after being twenty davs in the vot-
ing precinct.
Oregon.— Citizens, or those who have declared their in-
tention of becoming so. except Chiuameu. fiiited States
soldiers, convicts, lunatics, aud idiots, may vote after a res-
idence of six mouths in the State.
Pennsylvaxi.\.— .-ictual citizens, except non-taxpavers
and political bribers, can vote after a residence of oue year
m the State and two mouths in the voting precinct Eeeis-
tration is required.
Rhode Isl.\sd.— Actual taxpaying citizens, who possess
property to the value of J134. cau vote after a residence of
one year in the State and six months in the towns Regis-
tration is required.
South C.\rolina.— Actual citizens, except United States
soldiers, duelists. j>aupers. criminals, lunatics, and idiots
may vote after a residence of one vear in the State and sixty
days in the county. Kegistratiou is required.
South Dakot.i.— Citizens of the United States of the age
of twenty-one years and upward, or those who have declared
their intention of becoming citizens, and who have resided
in the State SIX months, in the countv thirty davs, and in
election precinct ten days next preceding any election are
qualified voters.
Te.vxessee.— Actual citizens. except non-pavers of poll tax,
may vote after a residence of twelve months in the State and
SIX months in the county.
Texas.— Citizens, or those who have declared their inten-
tion of becoming so, except United States soldiers, crimi-
nals. Idiots, lunatics, and paupers, can vote after a residence
of one year in the State and six mouths in the countv and vot-
ing precinct Registration is prohibited by the constitution
\EK.MONT— Actual citizens, except bribers, can vote after a
residence of one year in the State. Registrationis required
\IBG1NIA.— Actual citizens, except United States soldiers'
non-payers of capitation tax, duelists, convicts, idiots and
lunatics, can vote after a residence of twelve months in the
state and three months in towns. Registration is required
WASHi.vr.TON.— All male persons of the age of tweutv-one
or over, citizens of the United States, who have lived in the
State one year, and the county ninety davs. and in the city
town, ward, or precinct thirty davs immediatelv preceediiig
the election at which they offer to vote, shall be eutitled to
vote, except Indians not taxed, idiots, insane persons and
persons convicted of infamous crimes (unless restored to
their civil rights).
West Viriuxia.— Actual citizens, except convicts. paupers
and lunatics, can vote after a residence of oue year in the
•.'^'l"'"?; ^■'^ months in the county. Registration is i.rohib-
ited by the constitution.
WiscoN-sn.-.— Citizens, or those who have declared their in-
tention of becoming so, except duelist!<. bribers, betters, con-
victs, lunatics, and idiots, may vote after a residence of one
year in the State.
Wyo-MIng.- Suffrage not to be denied or abridged on ac-
count of sex. Every citizen of the United States twenty-one
years of age and upward who has resided in the State one
year and in the countv wherein such residence is located
sixty days next preceediug any election, shall be entitled to
voteat such election, except idiots, insane persons and per-
sons convicted of infamous crimes, and also such persons as
shall not be able to read the constitution of the State.
Chaplains of the United States Senate and
House op Representatives.
The Chaplains of the Senate and House of Repre-
sentatives are elected by a liva voce vote at the
commencement of each Congress, their official
terms to continue "until their successors are
chosen and their salaries to be $1,500 per year
The practice which had prevailed for several
years, of the election by each house of a chaplain
who should open their daily sessions with prayer
alternating weekly between the House and Senate'
was suspended during the 35th Congress. At the
first session of that Congress a resolution was
adopted by the House, which directed "that the
daily sessions of that body be opened by prayer
and requesting the ministers of the gospel in this
city (\\ashington) to attend and alternately per-
form this solemn duty." The clergymen of Wash-
ington generally responded to this request, and
for the remainder of the Congress performed the
duty of chaplains.
At the first session of the 36th Congress the old
practice of the election of a chaplain by each house
was revived, and it was at that time decided that
a proposition to proceed to such election presented
a question of privilege.
Until the revision of the rules in the 2d session
ot the 4bth Congress, tliere was no liuh relat-
ing to the election of chaplain
Supreme Court of the Tnited States.
The United States Supreme Court is composed
of a Chief Justice and eight Associate .Justices
appointed by the President of the United States
subject to the approval of the United States Senate.
The Associate Judges have precedence according
to the dates of their commissions, or, when the
commissions of two or more of them bear the same
date, according to their ages. In each case of a
vacancy in the office of Chief Justice, or of his
ii>ability to perform the duties and powers of his
office, those duties shall devolve upon the Associ-
ate Justice who is first in precedence until such
disability is removed, or, another Chief Justice is
appointed and duly qualified.
The salary of the Chief Justice is .1;]0.500 per
annum, and of each Associate Justice .$10,000.
The Chief Justices besides their duties in annual
sessions of the Supreme Court in Washington, have
assigned to them each his own judicial circuit.
these circuits having in addition, their own circuit
judges.
The following is a complete list of the Justices of
the United States Supreme Court, the names of the
Chief Justices are in italics.
Names.
John Jay, N. Y... .
John Rntledge.S. C
William Cushing, Mass
James Wilson, Pa
John Blair, Va
Robert H. Harrison, Md
James Iredell, N. C
Thomas Johnson, Md
William Paterson, N.J
John Sutledge. S.C ,'
Samuel Chase, Md
OUrcr FMsu-orlh, Conn
Bushrod Washington, Va..
Alfred Moore, N. C
John Marshall, Va
William Johnson, S.C
Brockholst Livingston, N. Y
Thomas Todd, Ky
Joseph Story, Ma'ss
Gabriel Duval, Md
Smith Thompson„N.Y. .
Robert Trimble. Ky
John McLean, Ohio
Henry Baldwin, Pa
James M. Wayne, Ga
Roger B Taney, Md..
PhilipP. Barbour, Va .'.
John Catron, Tenn
John McKinIey,Ala
Peter V. Daniel, Va
Samuel Nelson, N. Y
Levi Woodbury, N. H '.
Robert C. Grier, Pa
Benj. R. Curtis, Mass
John A. Campbell, Ala
Nathan Clifford, Maine
Noah H. Swayne,Ohio
Sanuiel F. Miller, Iowa
David Davis, III
Stephen J. Field. Cal
Snhnmi P. Cha.'^e. Ohio
William Strong, Pa.
Joseph P. Bradley, N. J
Ward Hunt. X. Y
Morrixim R. HrtiVf, Ohio
John M. Harlan. Kv
William B. Woods," Ga
Stanley Mathews. Ohio
Horace Gray, Mass
Samuel Blatchford. N. Y
Lucius Q. C. Lamar. Miss. . . .
.n.lville ir. Fullrr. Ill
David J. Brewer, Kan
Henry B. Brown. Mich
Service.
Born
Term . Years
ITSg-lTM
1789-1791
17S9-1W0
17X9-1798
1789-1790
1789-17911
1790-1799
1791-179:-;
179S-18(m;
1795-1793
1796-lKll
1796-lROO
1798-1829
1799-1804
1601-183.5
I8W-1834
1806-182,3
1807-1826
1811-1845
1811-1836
1823-1843
1826-1828
1829-1861
1830-1844
18.35-1867
18;i6-1864
18.36-1841
1837-1865
1837-1852
1841-1860
1845-1872
1845-1851
1846-1870
1851-1857
1853-1861
18,18-1881
1861-1881
1862-1890
1862-1877
1,S63-.
1864-1873
1870-1880
1870-.
1872-18S2
1874-1888
1877- - . .
1880-18S;
1881-18,S9
1881- .
1882- .
1888- .
1888- .
1889- .
1890-
6
2
21
9
7
1
■9
2
13
15
5
31
5
34
SO
17
19
34
25
20
2
32
16
32
28
5
28
15
19
27
6
23
6
8
23
20
28
15
1745
1739
173,3
1742
1732
1745
1751
17.32
1745
1739
1741
1745
1762
1755
1755
1771
1757
1765
1779
1752
1767
1777
1785
1779
1790
1777
1783
1786
1780
1785
1792
1789
1794
1809
1811
1803
1804
1816
1815
1816
180S
1808
1813
1811
1816
\mi
1,S24
1824
1828
1820
182.T
18:>3
l.'v"
1836
Died.
1829
ISUO
18111
179.S
1800
1790
1799
1819
ISOC
IKIXI
ISII
1S(17
1.'29
ISllI
18:«
IftU
182:;
182S
1845
1844
iRi;;
1828
1861
1844
1867
1861
1841
1S65
1852
1860
1873
1851
1870
1874
1889
1881
I8«
1890
1886
1873
1886
1888
1887
Each separate State has its own judicial system
for which see Britannica in he.
ibb'A
UNITED ST A T E S 0 I-' A M E 1{ 1 (J A
XcMBER OF Sessions, Terms of Office, Limit of Sessions, Salaries of Governobs, Etc., in the
Several States and Territories.
States.
Alabama
Arkansas . . . .
Califoruia . . .
Colorado . . . .
Conuecticut.
Delaware
Florida
Georgia
Idaho
Illinois
Indiana
Iowa - .
Kansas
Kentucky
Louisiana
Maine
Maryland
Massachusetts.
Michigan
Minnesota
Mississippi - . .
Missouri
Montana
Nebraska
Nevada
N. Hampshire..
New Jersey
New York
North Carolina
North Dakota..
Ohioi
Oregon
Pennsylvania .
Rhode Island t
South Carolina
South Dakota .
Tennessee
Texas
Vermont
Virginia .
Washington ...
West Virginia .
Wisconsin
Wyoming
TERRITORIES.
Arizona
New Mexico. .
Oklahoma
Utah
Sessions
Biennial
Biennial
Biennial .
Biennial .
Annual.. .
Biennial .
Biennial .
Bienulal .
Biennial .
Biennial .
Biennial .
Biennial .
Biennial .
Biennial .
Biennial .
Biennial .
Biennial .
Annual...
Biennial .
Biennial .
Biennial .
Biennial .
Biennial
Biennial .
Biennial .
Biennial .
Annual . .
Annual. . .
Biennial .
Biennial .
Biennial .
Biennial .
Biennial .
Annual
.\nnual
Biennial .
Biennial
Biennial
Biennial
Biennial .
Biennial
Biennial .
Bienulal .
Biennial .
Biennial
Biennial
Biennial .
Month and Day.
Tu. aft. 2 Mon.
2d Mon. Jan. .
1st Mon. aft. Jan. 1...
Wed. aft. 1 Mon. Jan.
Wed. aft. 1 Mon. Jan.
1st Tue. Jan
1st Wed. Nov.
2d Mon. Dec. .
Wed. aft. 1 Mon. Jan.
Thur. aft 1 Mon. Jan.
2d Mon. Jan
2d tu. Jan
Last Wed. Dec
2d Mon. May
ist Wed. Jan
1st ^^■ed. Jan
1st Wed. Jan
Ist Wed. Jan
Tu. aft. 1 Mon. Jan. .
Tu. aft. 1 Mon. Jan....
Wed, aft. Jan. 1
2d Mon. Jan
IstTu. Jan
1st Mon. Jan
Ist Wed. in Jan
2d Tu. in Jan
1st Tu. Jan
Wed. aft. 1 Mon. Jan.
2d Tu. Jan
Isl Mon. Jan
2d Mon. Jan
Ist Tu. Jan
Last Tu. May
4th Tu. Nov
2d Tu. Jan
Ist Mon. Jan
2d Tu. Jan
1st Wed. Oct
Ist Wed. Dec
Ist Mon. Jan
2d Wed. Jan
1st Mon. Jan
2d Tu. Jan
1st Mon. Jan. . .
Last Mon. Dec.
2d Mon. Jan.
Limit of
Sessions.
50 days.
60 days.. .
60 days..
90 days..
None
None
60 days..
40 days*.
60 days..
None
60 days. .
None
50 days. .
60 davs*.
60 days..
None
90 days..
None
None
60 days..
None
70 days.
60 days.
40 days.
60 days.
None .. .
Nono . ..
Nope . . .
60 days.
60 days.
None
40 days.
None...
None
None
69 days..
7.5 davs. .
90 days..
None
90 daysll..
60 days..
45 daysll.
None
60 days..
60 days.
60 days.
60 days.
33
100
92
49
249
20
76
175
24
100
100
151
117
210
100
107
120
140
24
100
40
321
60
128
120
48
110
60
204
72
124
48
99
106
240
100
24
65
100
24
Salary.
$4 a day and 10c. mileage.
$fi a day.
\ $8 a day and 10 cents
t mileage and $25.
$7 a day and 15c. mileage.
^300 and mileage.
43 a day and mileage.
$6 a day and 10c. mileage.
$4 a day and mileage.
$4 a day and 20c. mileage.
J $5 a day and 10 cents
) mileage and $50.
$6 a day and mileage.
$550 a year.
$3 a day and 15c mileage.
$5 a day and 15c. mileage.
hi a day and mileage
$150 and 20c. mileage.
$5 a day and mileage.
$750 a year and 20c. miltage
$3 a day and lOc. mileage.
$5 a day and I5c. mileage.
$400 a year.
( $5 a day and mllealgt.
f and $30.
$4 a dav and 20c. mileage.
« $3 a day and 10 cents
i mileage.
$8 a day and 40c. mileage.
$250 and mileage.
$500 a year.
($1,500 a year and lOc.
/ mileage.
$4 a day and 10c. mileage,
$4 a day and 20c. mileage.
$600 a year and 12c. mile.
$3 a day and 1.5c. mileage.
I $1,500 a year and 5 cents
f mileage.
$1 a day and 8e. mileage.
$5aday'and 10c. mileage,
$4 a day and 20c. mileage.
$4 a day and I6c. mileage.
i5 a day and mileage.
3 a day.
540 a year.
$4 a day and 20c. mileage.
$4 a day and 10c. mileage,
t $500 a year and 10 cents
} mileage.
$4 a day and 20e. mileage
$4 a day and 20 cents
mileage.
• Unless extended bv special vote. ,j j. j j <
+ In Ohio and a few other States, where the legislative sessions are biennial, the legislature hold3"adjourned sessions,
practicallv amounting to annual meetings. j j. ^
I The Rhode Island legislature is required to meet annually the last Tuesday in May, at Newport, and an adjournea
Bession to be holden annually at Providence.
II Unless extended by special vote.
U N I r E D S T A r E S OF A M E R I C A
1553
PRESIDENTIAL ELECTION IN THE UNITED STATES.
s
1
■3
1
S
s
z
no
15
16
16
17
17
18
19
24
34
24,
o
>
1
3
!_
73
135
138
138
176
176
218
221
-235
261
261
S
c
F
A-F
F
AF
F
F..
A-F
A-F
F..
F..
A-F
F
A-F
•Presidents.
•Vice-Presi-
dents.
c
o
u
o
3
o
X
o
z
o
o
>
z
1
•Presidents.
•Vice-Pres
dents.
-
a
o
Candidates.
Vote.
Candi-
dates.
to
e>
o
>
1
Candidates.
Vote.
Candidates.
o
>
33
Popu-
lar.
1
o
S
s
Popu-
lar.
"3
s
3
o
>
o
V
3
1789
G. Washington
John Adams.. .
69
1832
1836
1840
1844
1848
18S2
1856
1860
1864
1868
1872
1876
1880
18»
1888
26
26
26
30
31
31
33
»36
37
S7
38
38
38
38
288
294
294
275
290
296
296
303
314
317
366
369
369
401
401
D.
N.
R.;
A. Jackson
Henrv Clay
John Floyd |
William Wirt., i
15
7
1
1
687 j02
530,189
33,108
219
19
11
7
Van Buren..
Sergeant
Lee
189
3t
9
6
6
4
3
2
2
1
1
1
4
44
John Jav
11
R. H. Harrison
John Rutledge
John Hancock
AM..
Ellmaker....
Wilkins
7
V\
Vacancies
M. Van Buren ..
W.H. Harrison 1
Hugh L. White 1
Dan. Webster (
W. P. ManeumJ
W. H.Harrison..
M. Van Buren. . .
Jas. G. Birney ...
is
7
2
1
1
■ ■76l',549
736,656
2
170
73
?
D....
W
w..
w
w
w
D
L
Johnson** . .
147
S. Huntingdon
John Milton
26]TTler
14 Smith
47
Jas. Armstrong
Benj. Lincoln.
Edw. Telfair.. .
23
n
19 1 275.017 234 Tvler
234
Vacancies
4
132
7 I.I2S.7M 60 Johnson
48
n<»?
G. Washington
7,059
77
SO
4
1
3
Tazewell ....
Polk
11
1
Thos. Jefferson
b.
w
L.
W
D
F.
D
W
F.
D
R
A.
R
D
C.
L.
R
D
s.^
b:
v
D.
James K. Polk. .
Henry Clay
15
11
ii37i43 170
Dallas
170
1,299.068 105 Frelineh's'n
ins
3
71
C2.300
iJ!tJ)-ini
..1
1796
John \dam3
Zacharr Tavlor. 15
16.^ Fillmore .
\M
Thos. Jefferson
Thos. Pinckney
68
59
30
15
11
7
5
3
2
2
2
1
Lewis Cass'. islliao^is 127 Butler
127
M. Van Buren . .
Franklin Pierce.
WiBlield Scott..
John P. Hale. .
291,2631 .
27 1.601,474254
2f4
Samuel Adams
0 Ellsworth
4 1.386,5781 42'C;rflham
42
. 166.1491
19 1.838J69 174
Julian
174
John JaT
J. C. Fremont .. n|1.3«.2«,lH Davton
M.Fillmore 11 87.534; » Donelson . . .
Ab'ni Lincoln .'l7 1.S66.;i52'l«) Hamlin
J. C. Breckiur'ge 111 w.i.7tBt 72 Lane . .
114
James Iredell
G. Washington
8
180
72
S Johnson....
John Bell
S. A. Douglas ...
Ab'm Lincoln. ..
G.B. M'CIellan
Vacancies —
Ulysses S. Grant
H. Seymour
Vacancies
Ulysses S. Grant
Horace Greeley..
Charles O'Conor
James Black
T. A. Hendricks.
B.Gratz Brown..
S\ 5*9.5821 39 Everett
39
C. C. Pinckney
Thos. Jefferson
-\aron Burr.. . .
2[l.375J57
222J16.0C7
S 1,S0S,725
11
26 3,015,071
8,2,709,613
3
lalJobnson
212 Johnson. ...
21 Pendleton ..
81
214 Colfax
12
iwn
m
•}n
65
64
1
162
14
113
47
9
3
3
1
131
86
183
22
16
218
8
4
1
I
182
30
24
13
9
2
1
171
83
7
'I
81
C. C. Pinckney
John JaT
R
214
80
23
2S6
42
18
2
1
Blair
Wilson [.'.'.'.
Brown
Julian
Colquitt ....
Palmer
Branilette.. -
Groesbeck..
Maehen
Banks
80
1MM
Thos. Jefferson
C. C. Pinckney
Jas. Madison
C. C. Pinckney
Geo. Clinton..
•15
12
:e::
162
14
122
47
6
Clinton . . .
King
Clinton . . .
King
Langdon . .
Madison . .
Monroe . . .
•?3
1««IA
R..
DiL.
?:::::
31
6
3,597.070
2.KU,079
29.408
5j60S
286
47
5
5
3
S
A-F
F .
A-F
F..
Vacancv
1
128
89
1
183
34
C J. Jenkins. ..
1
Hfl2
Jas. Madison..
DeW. Clinton..
U
7
Gerry
IngersoU ..
1
1
17
14
]£16
Jjmes Monroe
Hufus King
16
3
Tompkins.
Howard. . .
Ross, etc. .
Tompkins.
Stockton. .
Rodney . . .
Harper
Bush
R
D
G
P
R. B Haves
S. J.Tilden
Peter Cooper
G.Clay Smith .
21
17
4.033550
4,284,885
81,740
9.522
2,636
185
184
Wheeler
Hendricks . .
185
184
imn
AF
F..
James Monroe
Jno. Q. Adams
21
231
1
*
R
D
G
b
R
P.
P
R
D
P
C.
p;
't.'.
J. A. Garfield. ..
W.S. Hancock ..
J B. Weaver
Scattering .
19
4.4,S4.416
?14
Arthur
English
Chambers...
214
'
1914,444.952 155
. 1 306.867'..
1.55
A-F
C.
A F
AF
3
12J76
4^74,986
4351,981
183*
A. Jackson
Jno. Q. Adams
W.B.Crawford
Henry Clay....
10
8
3
3
156372
105.321
44 282
^99, Calhoun ..
Sl'Santord...
G. Cleveland —
Jas. G. Blaine. .
Benj. F.' Butler
John P. St. John
Benj Harrison.
G. Cleveland .
Clinton B. Fisk
A.J. Streeter ...
20
IS
219
182
Hendricks . .
Logan
West
219
182
.. 1605691.-
I5.438.6r2 233
. i5..t34J!S2 168
Van Buren
Clay
Morton
Thurman . . .
Brooks.. ..
Cunningh'm
233
168
XR
Vacancy
244.034 . . .
146,839 . . .
1828
A. Jackson
Jno. Q. Adams
is 6*7,221; Its
9 509,097 83
Calhonn . .
Rush
Smith
1
1
F., stands tor Federalist: R., Republican: O..OppogiUon: C. Coalition: D., Democratic: N. R., National Republican: A.-M.,
Anii-Mofon: W., Whig: Ij., Liberty: F.S., Free Soil: T.D.. Free Democrat: C. V.. Conttitutional Union: l.T)., Independent Demo-
crat: D. & L.. Democratic and Liberal: T., Temperance: G., Greenback: P., Prohibition: A.. Anvrican: P. P., People's Party; U. L.,
United Labor.
* Previous to the election of 1804 each elector voted for two candidates for President : the one receiving the highest number
of votes, if a majoritv, was declared elected President: and the next highest Vice-President.
t Three States out of thirteen did not vote, viz.: New York, which had not passed an electoral law : and North Carolina
and Rhode Island, which had not adopted the Constitution.
I There having been a tie vote, the choice devolved upon the House of Representatives, which selected Jefferson.
^ No choice having been made bv the Electoral College, the choice devolved upon the House of Representatives, which
selected .idams on first ballot.
** No candidate having received a majority of the votes of the Electoral College, the Senate elected R. M. Johnson Vice-
President, who received 33 votes: Francis Granger received 16.
1554
UN IT K I) STATES OF AMERIOl
Speakers of the Holsk of Kepkesentatives.
The following is a complete list of the Speakers
of the House of Representatives from the organi-
zation of the 1st Congress until the close of tlie51st
Congress, in 1891, giving the State which the
Speaker represented, and the length of time of his
services as Speaker. The names of the Speakers
pro tern are not included.
Name.
F. A Muhlenberg,..
Jonathan Trumbull
F. A. Muhleubc-rg
Jonathan Dayton .
Geo. Dent
Theodore Sedgwick
Nathaniel Macon. . .
Joseph B. Varnum
Henry Clay*
Langdon Cheves. .
Henry Clayt
JohnW. Taylor
Philip P. Barbour.
Henry Clay
John W Taylor .
Andrew Stevensont
John Bell
James K. Polk
Robt. M. T. Hunter.
John White
John W. Jones
John W. Davis
Robert C. Wlnthrop
Howell Cobb
Nathaniel P. Banks
James L. Orr
Wm. Pennington
Galusha A. Grow
Schuyler Colfax.
Term of Service.
Linn Boyd Ky
JameE G. Blaine.
Michael C. Kerr...
Samuel S. Cox
Milton Sayler
Samuel J. Randall
J. Warren Kiefer
John G.Carlisle
Apr. 1, 1789,
Oct. 24, '91,
Dee. 2, '9S,
Dec. 7, 'as,
May 15, '97,
Dec. 3, '98,
Dec. 2, '99,
Dec. 7,1801,
Oct. 17, '03,
Dec. '2, '05.
Oct.as, '07,
MaT'2'2, '09,
Nov. 4, '11,
Mavj4, 'l.S,
Jan'. 19, '14,
Dec. 4. ■\-\
Dec. 1, '17.
Dec. ti, '19,
Nov. 15, '20,
Dec. 4, '21,
Dec. 1, '23.
Dec. 5, '25,
Dec. 3, '27,
Dec. 7, '29,
Dec. 5, '31,
Dec. 2, 'a3,
June 2, '.34,
Dec. 7, '35,
Sept. 5, '37,
Dec. 16, '39,
27th 'May 31, '41,
2Sth Dec. 4, '43,
29th 'Dec. 1, '45,
SOthlDec. 6, '47,
31st lDec.22, '49,
32d pec. 1, '51.
33d iDec. 5, '53,
34th Feb. 2, '66,
35thpec. 7, '87,
36thlFeb. 1, '60,
S7th July 4, '61,
to Mar. 8,
to Mar. 2
to Mar. 3
to Mar. ;i
to July 16
to Mar. 3
to Mar. 3,
, to Mar. 3
to Mar. 3,
to Mar. 3,
to Mar,
to Mar. 3
Ind..
N. Y..
Ohio
Pa...
38th
39th
40th
41st
43d
43d
44th
Ohio
Ky ..
Thomas B. Reed Me...
Dec. 7, '63,
Dec. 4, '65,
Mar. 4, '67,
Mar. 4, '69,
Mar. 4, '71,
Dec. 1, '73,
Dec. 6, '75,
44th Feb. 17, '76,
44th
44th
45th
4(Uh
47th
48th
49th
.50th
51st
June 19, '76,
Dec. 4, '76,
Oct. 15, '77,
Mar. 18, '79.
Dec. 5, '8!,
Dec. 3, '83,
Dec. 7, '85,
Dec. 5, '87,
Dec. 2, '89,
to Mar_ ,
to Jan. 19,
to Mar. 3,
to Mar. 3,
to 5Iar. 3,
to May 15,
to MaV. 3,
to Mar. 3,
to Mar. 3.
to Mar. 3,
to Mar. 3.
to Mar. 3,
to Mar. 3,
to June 2,
to Mar. 3,
to Mar. 3,
to Mar. 3.
to Mar. 3,
to Mar. 3,
to Mar. 3,
to Mar. 3,
to Mar. 3,
to Mar. 3,
to Mar. 3,
to Mar. 3,
to Mar. 3.
to Mar. 3,
to Mar. 2,
to Mar. 3,
to Mar. 3.
to Mar. 2,
to Mar. 3,
to Mar. 3,
to Mar. 3,
to Mar. 3,
to Aug 20,
to May 12,
to Juiie24,
to Mar. 3,
to Mar. 3,
to Mar. 3,
to Mar. 3,
to Mar. 3,
to Mar. 3,
to Mar. 3,
to Mar. 3,
1791
'93
, '95
, '97
, '118
, '99
1801
'03
'05
'07
'09
'11
'13
'14
'15
'17
'19
'20
'21
'23
'25
'29
'31
'3:^
'34
'35
'39
'41
'43
'45
'47
'49
'.'il
'53
'55
'.57
'.59
'61
'63
'C5
'67
'69
'71
'73
'75
'76
'76
, '76
'77
'79
'81
'82
'85
'87
'89
'91
claims the party would be entitled to redress against tl.e
United States either in a court of law. eriuity, or ad-.niralty
if the United States were suable: Proiiikd, hvwiecr, That
nothing in this section shall be construed as given to either
of the courts herein mentioned jurisdiction to hear and de-
termine claims growing out of the late civil war, and com-
monly known as "war claims." or to hear and determine
other claims which have heretofore been rejected or reported
on adversely by any court, department, or commission
authorized to hear arid determine the same.
Second. All set-offs, counter-claims, claims for damages,
whether liquidated or unliquidated, or other demands what
soever on the part of the Government of the United States
against any claimant against the Government in said court;
Pnn-UIrd that no suit against the Government of the United
States sh,all be allowed under this act unless the same shall
have been brought within six years after the right accrued
for which the claim is made. . . ^ „^ , ^ ,,
SEC 2 That the district courts of the United States shall
have concurred jurisdiction with the Court of Claims as to
all matters named in the preceeding section w'here the
amount of the claim does not exceed one thousand dollars,
and the circuit courts of the United Stales shall have such
concurrent jurisdiction in all cases where the amount of
such claim exceeds one thousand dollars and does not ex-
ceed ten thousand dollars. All causes brought and tried
under the provision of this act shall be tried by the court
without a jury.
Sec 3 That whenever any person shall present his petitioa
to the Court of Claims alleging that he is or has been in-
debted to the United States as an officer or agent thereof, or
by virtue of any contract therewith, or that he is the
gnarantor, or surety, or personal representative of any of-
ficer, or agent, or contractor so indebted, or that he or the
person for whom he is such surety, guarantor, or personal
representative has held any office or agency under the United
States, or entered into any contract therewith, under which
it may be or has been claimed that an indebtedness to the
United States has arisen and exists, and that he or
the person he represents has applied to the proper Depart-
ment of the Government requesting that the account
of such office, agencv.or indebtedness may be adjusted and
settled, and that thr'ee years have elapsed from the date of
such application and said account still remains unsettled
and unadjusted, nnd that no suit upon the same has been
brought bv the United States, said court shall, due notice
first being" given to the head of said department and to the
Attornev-Geueral of the United States, proceed to hear the
parties and to ascertain the amount, if any, due the United
States on said account. The Attorney-General shall repre-
sent the United States at the hearinp of said cause. The ,
court mav postpone the same from time to time whenever
justice shall require. The judgmcut of said court or of the
Supreme Court of the United States, to which an appeal
shall lie, as in other cases, as to the amount due, shall be
binding and conclusive npon the parties. The payment of
such amount so found due by the court shall discharge such
obligation An action shall accrue to the United States
against such principal, or surety, or representative to re-
cover the amount so found due, which may be brought at
any time within three years after the final jud™ent of said
court Unless suit shall be brought within said time, such
claim and the claim on the original indebtness shall be
°SEC 4 That the jurisdiction of the respective courts of the
United States proceeding under this act, including the right
of exception and appeal. shall be governed bv the law now in
force in so far as the same is applicable and not inconsist-
ent with the provisions of this act: and the course of pro-
cedure shall be in accordance with the established rules of
said respective courts, and of such additions and modifica-
tions thereof as said courts may adopt. , . , „
Sec 5 That the plaintift' in any suit brought under the
nroviiions of the second section of this act shall file a peti-
tion, duly verific^d.with the clerk of the respective court
• Resigned, Jan. 19, 1814.
■fResigned.Oct. 20, 1820.
J Resigned, June 2. 1834.
The United States Court of Claims.
The Court of Claims of the T'nited States was
established by Congressional Act of Feb. 24, 1855.
Members of Congress are not allowed to practice
in the Court of Claims. The Act of Congress,
approved March 3, 1887, enacted that "the Court
of Claims shall have jurisdiction to hear and deter-
mine" the following matters:
First All claiin'^ founded upon the Constitution of the
United States or niiv law of Congress, except for pensions,
or upon anv regulation of any Executive Departinent, or
upon iiiiv contract, exr^ressed or implied, with the Govern-
ment nf Uie I'nited States, or for damages, liquidated, or un-
liquidated, in cases not sounding in tort, in respect of which
having jurisdiction of the case, and in the district where the
■ iff resides Such petition shall set forth the full name
and residence of the plaintiff, the mature of hisclaim^and^a
i-ingjn .
plaintiff resides.
sS?cincfstat'ement~'orthe'Tacts 'upon. which the claim is
based, the money or any other thing claimed or the damages
sought to be recovered, and praying the court for a judgment
or decree upon the facts and law.
SEC 6 That the plaintiff shall cause a copy of his petition
filed under the preceding section to be served upon the dis-
trict attorney ol the UnTted States in the district wherein
suit is brought, and shall mail a copy of the same, hy ''K'V
tered letter, to the Attorney-General of the United State.,
and sl'al thereupon cause to be filed with the clerk of the
cmirt wherein suit is instituted an affidavit of such service
and the mailing of such letter. It shall be the duty of the
d?stri^l attorney upon whom service of 1'<-'"^°X Covern
aforesaid to appear and defend the interests of the Govern-
ment n the suit, and within sixty days after the service of
the petition upon him, unless the time should be extended
bv o?der of the court made in the case, to file a plea, answer,
of demurrer on the part of the Government aiul to file a no-
Uce of anv counter-claim, set-off. claim for damages or
other demand or defense whatsoever of the (.overnment in
theprensts Pm,'/,/<rf. That, should the district attorney
ueelect or refuse to file the plea, answer, demurrer, or de-
"euse as required, the plaintiff may proceed with the case
i
r X IT E D S T A T E S 0 F A Jkl E R I C A
1555
under such rules as the court may adopt in the premises:
l>at the plaintiff shall not have judgment or decree for his
claim, or any part thereof, unless he shall establish the same
by proof satisfactory to the court.
Sec. 7. That it shall be the duty of the court to cause a
written opinion to be filed in the cause, setting forth the
specific tindings by the court of the facts therein and the
conclusions of the court upon all questions of law involved
in the case, and to render judgment thereon. If the suit be
in equity or admiralty, the court shall proceed with the same
according to the rules of such courts.
Sec. 8. That in the trial of any suit brought under any of
the provisions of this act. no person shall be excluded'as a
witness because he is a party to or interested in said suit;
and any plaintiff or paTty in interest may be examined as a
witness on the part of the Government.
Section ten hundred and seventy-nine of the Revised Stat-
utes is hereby repealed. The provisions of section ten hun-
dred and eighty of the Revised Statutes shall apply to cases
under this act.
Sec. 9. That the plaintiff or the United States in anv suit
brought under the provisions of this act, shall have the'same
rights of appeal or writ of error as are now reserved in the
Statutes of the United States in that behalf made, and upon
the conditions and limit rtions therein contained. The
modes of procedure in claiming and perfecting an appeal or
writ of error shall conform in all respects, and as near as
may be, to the statutes and rules of court governing appeals
and writs of error in like causes.
Sec. 10. That when the findings of facts and the law appli-
cable thereto have been filed in auy case as providetl in sec-
tion six of this act, and the judgment of decree is adverse to
the Government, it shall be the duty of the district attorney
to transmit to the Attorney-General of the United States
certified copies of all the papers filed in the cause, with a
transcript of the testimony taken, the written findings of the
court, and his written opinion as to the same; whereupon
the --ittorney-Ueneral shall determine and direct whether
an appeal or writ of error shall be taken or not; and when so
directed the district attorney shall cause an appeal or writ
of error to be perfected in accordance with the terms of the
statutes and rules of practice governing the same: Pna-ided
That no appeal or writ of error shall be allowed after six
months from the judgment of decree in such suit. From the
date of such final judgment or decree interest shall be com-
puted thereon, at the rate of four per centum per annum,
until the time when an appropriation is made for the pay-
ment of the judgment or decree.
Sec. U. That the .Attorney-General shall report to Congress
and at the beginning of eaj^h session of Congress, the suits
nnder this act in which a final judgment or decree has been
rendered, giving the date of each, and a statement of the
costs taxed in each case.
Sec. 12. That when any claim or matter may be pendiu" in
any of the Executive Departments which involves contro-
verted questions of fact or law. the head of such Department,
with the consent of the claimant, mav transmit the lame
-withthe vouchers, papers, proofs and documents pertaining
■thereto, to said Court of Claims, and the same shall be there
proceeded in under such rules as the court mav adopt.
When the facts and conclusions of law shall have been found
the court shall reports its findings to the Department bv
which It was transmitted.
Sec. 13. That in every case which shall come before the
■Court of Claimg, or is now pending therein, under the pro-
visions of an act entitled ".\.n act to afford assistance and
Telief to Congress and the Executive Departments in the in-
vestigation of claims and demands against the Govern-
ment, approved March third, eighteen hundred and eighty-
three. If It shall appear to the satisfaction of the court, upon
the facts established, that it has jurisdiction to render judg-
ment or decree thereon under existing laws or under the
provisions of this act it shall proceed to do so, giving to
either party such further opportunitv for hearing as in its
judgment justice shall require, and report its proceedings
therein to either house of Congress or to the Department by
which the same was referred to said court.
Sec. 14. That whenever any bill. except forapension, shall
be pending m either house of Congress providing for the pay-
ment of a claim against the United States, legal or equitable
or for a grant gift, or bounty to any person, the house in
which such bill IS pending may refer the same to the Court
•.y?i™^'"'''-°-'''^''"?™'^<^«<^ with the same in accordance
with the provisions of the act approved March third, eigh-
teen hundred and eightv-three, entitled ■'An act to kfford
assistance and relief to Congress and the Executive Depart-
ments in the investigation of claims and demands against
the Government, and report to such house the facts in the
^^t 5° ^ amount, where the same can be liquidated,
h.J^fi^/';'' ^'"■'^, bt;a'""!K upon "le question whether there
fi,^?^^° ^f}^'^ or laches in presenting such claim or apply.
Jh? mn/V-'"'' ^'•«?'' Ki". or bounty,and any facts bearing upon
4hm?lrt^?,'"'° whether the. bar of any statute of limitation
??«imanffn1'"°';'''J, "''•'"'''''='' '''"J,' "« claimed to excuse the
reS^dv baving resorted to any established legal
Sec. 15. If the Government of the United States shall nnt
i?s df"c'rl?f."^'',',°' ""^ ^''"""'"^ '° ■■'■""■" the court nmy^n
Us discretion, allow costs to the prevailing party from the
tirne of .oimug such issue. Such costs, however, shall in*
<-..;deonly what is ,-.ctuaI'r incurred for witnesses, and for
summoning the same, and fees paid to the clerk of the
court.
Sec. IC. That all laws and parts of laws inconsistent with
this act are hereby repealed.
The Capit.-vi. of the United States.
As stated elseiivliere, the first Continental Con-
gress met in Carpenter's Hall, Philadelphia, Sept.
6, 1774. The hall ■svas a plain edifice (still stand-
ing) and provided fairly ■nell in respect of accom-
modations for a small deliberative body.
The second Continental Congress also met in
Philadelphia, and adjourned Dec. 12, ]77t), to Balti-
more, -n-here its third session began Dec. 20, 1776.
On Nov. 1, 17S4, the Confederative Congress assem-
bled in Trenton, K. J. On Jan. 11, 1885, it assem-
bled in New York City. The first National Con-
gress was also held in New York, commencing
March 4, 1789.
In 1789 Maryland ceded to the United States the
territory now known as the District of Columbia,
for its use by the Government as the National
headquarters. This gift was supplemented in 1789
by the Virginia Legislature, by the cession, for the
same purpose, of 40 square miles (including Alex-
andria), on the opposite side of the Potomac
River. These two tracts, selected by President
Washington, and having jointly an area of 100
square miles (10 miles square), were accepted by
the Government and designated "The District of
Columbia."
This selection was made by Congress in 1790
after a spirited controversy, in which the most vig-
orous effort was made to locate the National Capi-
tal in some other portion of the country. Indeed,
the contest was only settled by a compromise in
which the Northern Congressmen consented to
vote for the new Capital, and the Southern mem-
bers consented to vote for the Federal assumption
of the debts of the two States ceding the territory.
[In 1846 Congress receded to Virginia tliat por-
tion of the district which she had transferred to
the Federal Government.]
The Act of Congress, locating the Federal dis-
trict, passed June 28, 1790, contained the following
clause: "That a district of territory, on the river
Potomac, at some place between the mouths of '
the Eastern Branch of the Connegacheague, be,
and the same is hereby accepted for the perma-
nent seat for the Government of the United
States."
The same act provided also that Congress should
meet in Philadelphia until the first Monday in
November, 1800, when the Government should be
removed to the District of Columbia.
In 1791, under Washington's supervision, the
National Capital was planned and laid out on its
present site. The President desired it to be called
Federal City, but on Sept. 9 of that year, it was
named Washington.
On Sept. IS, 1793, President Washington laid the
cornerstone of the Capitol building with Masonic
ceremonies.
In 1800 the seat of Government was transferred
to Washington. The north wing of the Capitol
only was completed, but it was fitted up for both
Houses. The President's residence was completed
externally. The city of Washington at that date
was described as having "one good tavern and
very few houses in any one place, most of them
being very small huts, and the War Oftice and
Treasury Building burned down."
A bill for a monument to President Washington
passed the House of Representatives in 1800, but
after being amended in the Senate, was postponed.
Fifty years later it was commenced by funds raised
by private subscriptions.
1556
U N I T E D STATES OF A M ERICA
SOUTHERN LOBBY
THE MARBLE ROOM
SENATE CUAMBEJL
t.^^VH'frV
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r-^w:-' ■^■rS t"^'^'^'"-"'-ii L'- "^"^^■^
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NORTHERN DOOR
iJH
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60
T9
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4
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IIOL.'^K OK KH'i;i.,^>.".T,\TIV».
UNITED STATES OF AMERICA
1567
The Capitol Building.— The Capitol fronts the
east, and stands on a plateau ninety feet above the
level of the Potomac, in latitude 38'^ 53' 20.4" north
and longitude 77° 00' 35.7" west from Greenwich.
The southeast corner-stone of the original build-
ing was laid on Sept. 18, 1793, by President Wash-
ington, aided by the Freemasons of Maryland. It
was constructed of sandstone, painted white, from
an island in Aquia Creek, Virginia, under the
direction of Stephen H. Hallett. James Hoban,
George Hadtield, and afterward of B. H. Latrobe,
architects. The north wing was finished in 1800
and the south wing in 1811, a wooden passage-way
connecting them. On August 24, 1814. the interior
of both wings was destroyed by British incendi-
aries, but they were immediately rebuilt. In 1818
the central portion of the building was commenced
under the architectural superintendence of Charles
deep, with porticos of 22 columns each on their
eastern fronts, and with porticos of 10 columns on
their ends and on their western fronts. The entire
length of the building is 751 feet 4 inches, and the
greatest depth, including porticos and steps, is 324
feet. The area covered by the entire building is
153.112 square feet.
The dome is crowned by a bronze statue of Free-
dom, modeled by Crawford, which is 19 feet 6 inches
high, and weighs 14,985 pounds. The height of the
dome above the base-line of the east front is 287
feet 11 inches; the height from the top of the
balustrade of the building is 217 feet 11 inches;
and the greatest diameter at the base is 135 feet 5
inches.
The rotunda is 95 feet 6 inches in diameter, and
its height from the floor to the top of the canopy is
180 feet 3 inches.
The National Capitol.
Bulfinch, and the original building was finally
completed in 1827. Its cost, including the grading
of the grounds, alterations and repairs, up to 1827,
was $2,433,844.13.
The corner-stone to the extensions of the Capitol
was laid on July 4, 1,851. by President Fillmore,
Daniel Webster officiating as orator of the day.
Thomas U. Walter was architect, and subsequently
Edward Clark, under whose direction the work was
completed in November, 1867. The material used
for the extensions is white marble from the quar-
ries at Lee, Mass., with white marble columns from
the quarries at Cockeysville, ^Id.
The dome of the original central building was
constructed of wood, but was removed in 1856 to be
replaced by the present stupendous structure of
east iron, which was completed in 1865. The entire
weight of iron used is 8.909.200 pounds.
The main building is 352 feet 4 inches long in
front and 121 feet 6 inches deep, with a portico 160
feet wide, of 24 columns on the east and a projec-
tion of 83 feet on the west, embracing a recessed
portico of 10 coupled cohinins. The extensions are
placed at the north and south ends of the main-
building, with connecting corridors 44 feet long by
56 feet wide, flanked by columns. Each extension
is 142 feet 8 inches in front, bv 238 feet 10 inches
The Senate Chamber is 112 feet in length, by 82
feet in width, and thirty feet in height. Its gal-
leries will accommodate 1,000 persons.
The Representatives' Hall is 130 feet in length,
by 93 feet in width, and 30 feet in height.
The Supreme Court room was occupied by the
Senate until December, 1859, the court having pre-
viously occupied the room beneath, now used as a
law library.
[The Library of Congress wa.s burned by the British in
18U, and was partially destroyed bv an accidental fire in ISol.
The present center hall was finished in ISoS. and the wing
halls were finished in l.So7. The Library of Congress occu-
pies the entire western projection of the central Capitol
building. The original Library was coninienced in ISOO. but
w as destroyed with the Capitol in 1814. during the war with
Eneland. It was afterward replenished by the purchase of
the library belonging to ex-President JefTefson. bv Congress,
embracing about 7.000 volumes. In 1851 it contained m.OOO
volumes, and by an accidental fire in that vear the "whole
collection was destroyed, except 20.000 volumes. It was re-
built in 1852. when $75,000 was appropriated in one sum to re-
plenish the collection. The library is recruited by regular
appropriations made by Congress, which average about $11.-
000 per annum: also by additions received bv copvright.by
exchanges, and from the Smithsonian Institution.'] A new
edifice of ample dimensions, and of beautiful architectural
design, is now in process of erection near the Capitol, into
which the Congressional Library will be early transferred.
The basement story of the Capitol contains 73
rooms, of which 24 are in the "House Wing," 26 in
1558
UNITED STATES 0 V \ M E R I C A
the "Main Wing,'' and 23 in the "Senate Wing."
Many of the rooms are designated severally for the
use of the various committees.
The principal story of the Capitol contains 48
rooms. Of these 17 are in the "House Wing," and
include the hall of the House of Representatives;
the "Main Wing" has 12 chief rooms, including the
"Old Hall of Representatives," now used as a
"Statuary Hall" (to which each State has been in-
vited to contribute 2 statues of its most distin-
guished citizens J ; the "Congressional Library"
(subdivided into various departments) ; the "Su-
preme Court-room," and the "Rotunda."
The "Senate Wing" contains 19 chief rooms, in-
cluding the "Senate Chamber," the "President's
Room," "Vice-President's Room," etc., etc.
The attic story embraces 42 rooms, designated
chieflv for conamittees, documents, and as
"lobbies."
The diagrams on page 155(i furnish a clear view
of the two chief legislative halls.
Exports to .isn Imports from Y.\rious Cointries.
The following table shows for the year 1889-90
the values of the exports of domestic merchandise
to and the imports from the following countries,
according to the United States returns: —
Home Exports Imports from
CouDtry. to l.s,s9-90. 1889-90.
Great Britain and Ireland ii;444.459.00« $186,488,966
Germany S4-U5,215 98,837,683
France 49.013,004 77,672,311
British North America 38.514,4.>4 39,396,980
Belgium 20,140,377 9,336.482
Netherlands 22.487 j8.'< 17,029,233
Spain 12,736,273 5,288,537
Italy 12,974.249 20,3;«),051
Russia 10.601,531 3,409,879
British Australasia 11.108,081 4,277.676
Cuba 12,669,509 53,801591
Mexico 12,666,108 22,690,915
British West Indies 8.074.4.3;j 14,865.018
Brazil 11.902,496 .59,318,756
Argen tine Republic 8,3-22,627 5.401 ,697
Colombia 2,522351 3,575,253
Portugal 3.891,789 1,418..309
China 2.943,790 16,260.471
Hayti 4.101,464 2,421.221
Japan 5.-J;;7.1.S6 21,103,324
Central America 5,liii.-275 8,052,444
British East Indies 4,6iii5« 20,804.319
Hong Kong 4,431,641 %9,745
Africa 3.778,076 l,o01.038
Hawaii 4,60i;.900 12,313.908
Venezuela., .3,984.280 10.96i;.765
Denmark 5.037,290 2:18..508
Chili 3.219.4(15 3.1.S3.249
Dutch East Indies. 1.799.306 5,791A50
Guitoas 2.439.184 4.918.736
Uruguay 3.210.112 . 1.7.54.903
Austria-Hungary 94.5.70:; 9,.331,37S
Turkey in Europe, Asia, and
Africa 176,:W6 4,622,779
Philippine Islands 122.276 11 ,592,626
Switzerland -22,170 14,441.9.50
National Debt of tiik United St.^tes.
The official statement of the Public Debt of the
United States showed the following summaries on
the morning of Xoveml)er 1, 1S91 :
Interest-bearing Debt $.5,8.5.0-26,720 00
Debt on which interest had ceased 6. -209,230 26
Debt-bearing interest 3.89.074.025 85
$98(1,309.976 11
$740.,5:M.358 68
. 600.8.5S.:h:« 64
$1.39,671,920 04
Total Debt
Cash in Treasury
Demand Liabilities
The casli in Treasury consisted of gold, $263,774,-
741.S1 ; silver, $410,116,967.91 ; paper currency and
certificates, $45,763,786.76; other deposits, $20,874,-
762.12 ; total, $740,530,258,68.
The Demand Liabilities was for gold, silver, and
currency certificates, treasury notes, fund for re-
demption of National Bank notes, outstanding
checks, balance of disbursing offices and agencies,
etc.
Deducting the net balance in Treasury, $139,671,-
920.04, from the total debt ($980,309,976.11) leaves
the net debt Nov. 1, 1891, at $840,638,056.07.
Assessed Valuation of Property in the United
States.
The assessed valuation of real and personal
property in the several States and Territories for
188(5 and 1890, together with the increase of the
assessed valuation during the last decade, is shown
in the following table :
states and Terri-
tories.
Total
Alabama
Arizona
Arkansas
California
Colorado
Connecticut
Delaware
District of Columbia
Florida
Georgia
Idaho
Illinois
Indiana
Iowa
Kansas
Kentucky
Louisiana
Maine
Maryland
Massachusetts
Michigan
Minnesota
Mississippi
Missouri
Montana
Nebraska
Nevada
New Hampshire..
New Jersey
New Mexico
New York
North Carolina...
North Dakota
Ohio
*Oklnhoma
Oregon
Pennsylvania
Rhode Island
South Carolina, ,.
South Dakota. . .
Tennessee
Texas
Utah
Vermont
Virginia
Washington
West Virginia . , . .
Wisconsin
Wyoming
Total assessed valuation.
18.S0.
$16,902,993,543
122.867.2-28
9,-270,214
86,409 ,;?G4
584J78.036
74,471,093
327,177.385
59.951,613
99,401.78;
30.938.309
239,472.599
6.440,876
1786,616.394
727,815,131
398.671, -251
160,891,689
350,563.971
160,162.439
235.978.716
497,307,675
1,584,756,802
517.666.,359
258,028.687
110,628,129
532,795.801
18,609,802
90,585.782
29,291.459
164,755.181
572,518,361
11,363,406
2,651,940,006
156,100,-202
8,786,572
1,534.360,508
Increase
of assessed
valuation.
$24,249,589,804
$7,346,596,261
197.080,441
2I.4:'4.767
-rl72,408.497
1.071,102.327
188.911.325
;«8,913.906
i74.134,401
153.307,541
76,926,93.S
377,366,784
25J81,.305
1727.416,252
782.872.1-26
■7478.31838
-290^93,711
512,615,506
■234 320.780
309,129,101
482,184.824
2.1.54.134.026
^945,450.000
588..531.743
-rl57.518,906
786,313.753
106,392392
184,770,305
24,663.383
252.722,016
688.309, IS'
■i^6.041,010
3,7753-25,938
212,697,287
78394J36
1,778,138,457
,52,522,081
1,683.469,016
252,5:^6 ,0'
133,560.135
11.5;^4,95S
211,778,5:*
320361,51
24.775,-279
86.806.7
308.4.55.1:05
23.810.693
139.622.705
4:«.971,751
43,621.8-29
166,0-25,731
2,592 341.0:i2
321,764,.503
132.182.|-,:?8
131,592,58;
347,510,103
695,812 .:f-20
104.7.58.750
161 .551 3-28
.362.422,741
-H-24.795,449
169.927,58'
592,890,719
t31,431,495
74.213,213
12.164,553
85,999,133
4865-24,291
114.439,632
31,736521
14.182,758
53,905,754
45.988.629
137,894,185
19,140,429
•f59 ,200,142
.55,050,995
79.646.997
1-29,702.0-22
162,031,535
74,1.58.341
73,130 3;«
+13,122.851
569377,8-24
427.783,641
3:«) ,503.0.56
46,890.777
'253,547,9.52
87,783.090
94.184.523
■H .6-28.074
87,966 >S5
115,790.8-26
;M.677.604
1,123385,932
56597.0»
69,607,964
243,777.949
113,503.617
909.:«2.016
69,-2-27 .8:-*
I20,0.57.6-.>9
135,731,565
375,477305
79,98;i,471
74,74455:?
53,967.606
100,9.84,756
30,:«H382
153,918.968
17,809,666
Xft Rftlnnc*- in Treasu
*The assessed valuation of Oklahoma not being given, the
population of that territorv is omitted in calculating the
assessed valuation per capita for 1890 of the United States.
T.Vnnual report of 1889.
IThe state board of equalization declares that in 1880 the
assessed value was 50 per cent, and in 1890 only 25 per cent, of
the true value, hence the reduction.
^Decrease.
^Assessment of 1886: assessment made every .5 years.
UNITED STATES OF AMERICA
1559
United St.^tbs Census.
The act of Congress providing for taking the
eleventh (1890) and subsequent censuses was ap-
proved by President Cleveland March 1, 188S. It
provided that the census should be taken June
1, 1890, and on successive days, and create the office
of Superintendent of the Census with an annual
salary of $6,000. Subsequently Robert P. Porter,
of New York, was appointed Superintendent by
President Harrison, and later a list of professional
experts was selected and charged with supervising
severally the various departments of the work.
Their naoies appear in their reports embraced in
the several volumes included in the General Census
Report.
The work of enumerating and tabulating the
people and preparing the numerous reports for the
press requires many months, and at this writing
(October, 1S9I,) has been reported to the public
only in part. The first volume, it is expected, will
give all the data as to population by States, coun-
ties and towns, nativity, color, etc. ; volume two,
health and physical condition, vital and mortality
statistics; volume three, public schools, illiteracy,
pauperism and crime, and churches and religious
denominations; volume four, trades and profes-
sions; volume five, survivors of the late war; vol-
ume six, wealth, taxation, public indebtedness, and
estimated values of property; volume seven, in-
debtedness of business corporations and individu-
als, including mortgage indebtedness; volume
eight, agricultural statistics; volume nine, manu-
factures; volume ten, mines and mining; volume
eleven, fish and fisheries ; volume twelve, transpor-
tation, railways, navigation, telegraphs and tele-
phones; volume thirteen, insurance.
Production of Gold .\nd Silver in United States.
The total production of gold and silver in the
country was as follows during each of the years
from 1885 to 1889:—
Year. Gold. Silver. Total.
1885 $31,081,0fi0 $51. 600.000 $83,401,000
1886 35,000.000 51.000,000 86,000,000
1S87 &3, 100,000 53.441,300 86.&41.300
1888 33,17.5.(KI0 59,195,000 92,370.000
1889 32,800,000 64,646,464 97,446.464
The precious metals are raised mainly in Cali-
fornia for gold ; and Colorado, Arizona, Utah, Ne-
vada, and Montana for silver. The total value of
gold deposited at the mints and assay offices from
1793 to 1887 is estimated at $1,334,609,150, and the
silver at $423,655,811.
In 1889-90 gold (domestic product) to the value
of $49,228,823, and weighing 32,430,151 standard
ounces, were deposited.
For other mining and mineral statistics see the
several topics in these Revisions and Additions.
Imports and Exports of Merch.a^ndise.
The following table shows the total values of im-
ports and exports of merchandise for the years
named severally ending June 30 : —
Imports of Exports of
Years. Merchandise. Merchandise.
1879 $445,777,775 $698..340,790
1886 695,436,1.36 665,964,.529
1887 632.310.768 703,022,923
1888 223,9.57,114 688.862.104
1889 74.5.131,652 730.282,609
1890 789,222,228 845,293,828
Imports and Exports op (Jold .4Nd Sii-ver.
The following table gives the total value of gold
and silver bullion and specie imported into the
United States, and the value of that exported, be-
ing the product of the States, in the years ended
June 30, 1879 and 1886-90 :—
Exports of
Imports of Domestic and
Year. Species. Foreign Species.
1879 i 20,296,000 $24,997,441
1886 38,593,656 72,463.410
1887 60,170,792 86,997,691
1888 59,337,986 46.414,183
1SS9 28,963,073 96.641,533
1890 33,976,326 62,118,420
Population op the United States in 1890 and 1880
BY States and Groups op States.
States aud Territories.
1890.
1880.
Number.
Per-
cent-
age.
The United States
62,480,540
50,156,783
12,324,757
24.57
North Atlantic divis'u
17,364,429
14,507,407
2,857,022
19.69
660,261
376,827
332,205
2,233,407
346,343
746,861
5,981,934
1.441.017
5,248 ..574
8,8.36,769
(>18,936
:M6.991
332,286
1.783.085
276.531
622,700
5,082,871
1,131,116
,4,282,891
7,597,197
11,325
28.830
*81
450,322
68,812
123,161
899,063
309,901
965,683
1,239,662
1.75
New Hampshire
8.31
Vermout
*0.02
25.26
Rhode Island. .
24.88
Couuectieut
New York
New Jer,sey
19.78
17.69
27.40
22.55
South Atlantic divis'n
16.32
Delaware
Mi'.rvlaiid
167,871
1,040.431
229,796
1,648,911
760,448
1,617,340
1,147,161
1,834,366
390,435
22.322.151
146,608
934,943
177.624
1,512,565
618.457
1,399,750
995,577
1,542,180
269,493
17,364,111
21,263
105,488
52,172
136,346
141,991
217,590
151,584
292,186
120,942
4,958,040
14.50
11.28
District of Columbia
29.37
9.01
West Virpinia
22.96
North Carolina
South Carolina
Georgia
15.54
15.23
18.95
44.88
North Central division
28.55
Ohio
Indiana
Illinois
3,666,719
2.189,030
3,818.53i;
2,089.792
1,683,697
1,.300,017
1,906.729
2,677,080
182,425
327,^48
1,050,793
1,423,485
10,948,263
3,198,062
1.978,301
3,077,871
1,636,937
1,315,497
780,773
1,624.615
2,168,;M)
36,909
98,268
452,402
996,096
8,919,371
468,657
210,729
740,665
452,855
368,200
519,244
282,114
508.700
146,616
229,580
604,391
427,389
2,028,882
14.65
10.65
24.0rt
Michigan.
Wisconsin
27.66
27.99
Minnesota
66.80
17.36
Missouri
23.46
North Dakota
394.26
South Dakota
Nebraska
2:«63
i:«.60
Kansas
South Central division
42.91
22.75
1,&55,4.36
1,763,723
1„508,073
1,284,887
1,116,828
2,232,220
1,648.690
1,542,.359
1,262 ,.505
1.131,597
939,946
1,591,749
206,746
221,364
246,668
153,290
176,882
640,471
12.54
U.SS
Alabama
Mississippi
19.4!>
13.5.*
18.82
Texas . ,
40.24
t61,70I
1,125,385
3,008,948
61,701
322,860
1,241,251
Arkansas
802,525
1,767,697
40.2a
Western division
70.22
131,769
60,589
410,975
144,862
59,691
206,498
44,327
81,229
39,159
20,789
194,327
119,565
40.440
143.963
62,266
32,610
92,610
39,800
216,648
25,297
19,261
62,535
*17,939
51,619
236 ..50
191.46
Colorado
111.49
21.16
Arizona
Utah
47.66
43.44
•28.81
Idaho
168.29
Aln«l.-(ift
949,516
312,490
1,204,002
75,116
174,768
8ft4,694
274,400
147.722
339,308
Oregon
7880
California
♦ Decrease.
+ The number of white persons in the Indian Territory Is
not included in this table, as the census of Indians and other
persons on Indian reservations, which was made a subject of
special investigation by law, has not yet been completed.
t Including 5,8;?7 persons in Ureer county (in Inciiau Terri-
tory) claimed by Texas.
$ The number of white persons in Alaska is not included ilk
this table, as the census of Alaska, which was made a subject
Of special investigation by law, has not yet been completed
1560
UNITED STATES OF AMERICA
INDUSTRIES AND OCCUPATIONS OF THE PEOPLE OF THE
UNITED STATES. '
MANUFACTURING AND MECHANICAL INDUSTRIES
Acricultunil Implements
Boots and Shoes •' —
Srick and Tile . . .-.. ■
Carpels
Cnemlcab
Coke
Cotton Manufactures . •
Flour and lirut-mill products . . .
Gla>s
Hosiery and Knit Goods.
Iron and Steel (adgresate) .
Bessemer and Open-Hearth
Leather
Lumber (sawed)
Musical Instruments. ..
Paper
Patent Medicines
Printing and Publishing.
Sash. Door, and bUuds.-.
Sewing Machines
Shlp-bulIding
Silk .'
Slaughtering and Meat-packinfr
Tobacco
"Woolen Goods'
■Worsted Goods
Eftablittimenti.
1,943
]S,3b9
5,631
195
1,S19
149
7j6
a),3il8
211
359
1,005
36
5,4i4
25.7ns
429 .
693
3,4G7
l,'it8
106
2,IR8
383
7-,674
1,990
7C
Cnpitnl,
S02.in<i,C(8
2r,b,J,078
21,468,587
85.394,211
5,545,058
208,280,346
177.361,878
19,844,699
15,749,59:
!!30,97I,884
20,975,999
77,100,574
181,186,122
14,446,765
46,241,303 .
10,020,880
63.9^3,704
20.457.670
la,501,830
20.97^,874
l<),li->,313
4'i,419,213
39,995,293
96,095,564
20,374,043
HuQilf.
39,rAi
143,2%
60,355
20,371
29,520
3,142
172,514
58,408
!i4.177
26,-385
140,978
I0,8'15
S4,81j5
147,956
11,350
!M,422
4,025
58,478
21,898
9,553
21,345
31,337
27,297
87,577
86,501
18,803
W»gM.
$15,369,310
53,821.164
13.443,532
6,835,213
11,840,704
1,198,654
42,040,510
17,422,316
9,144,100
6,701,475
55,476,785
4,930,349
14,049,656
31,845,971
7,098,794
8.525,355
1.651,596
30,531.657
8.540,930
4,636,099
12,713.813
9,146,705
10,508,530
2.1.0.54.457
25,8i6,392
5.68.1.027
M«t«ruila.
31.531.1711
138.565,798
9,744,834
18,984,877
77,471,830
2.995.441
102.200.W7
441,545,225
8.028.631
15,210,051
191,271.150
36,826.938
145,255,716
I46,1W,:«5
8,361,227
83.951.297
6,704,720
32,460,395
20,790,919
4.829,106
19,736,358
22.467,701
267,738.902
65.384,407
100,845,611
32,01.3.028
Pr,H]uet9.
68,640,486
217,093,627
32,633,.'i«7
31,792,802
117,377,331
5,359,489
192,090.111)
505,185.71«
21,l.'>4,.57l
29,167,2J7-
290,557,685
55.805,210
181,695.603
233,268,729
19,254.730-;
55,109,914
14,682.4»1
90,789,311
36.621 ,.325
13,863,168
36,800,327
41,033,CM5
303,.562,4I3
118.670,108
160,606,721
S3,549.»42
* Euluuvc ol c&rpcti, Irlt goc.l«, gtovn and ii
rry uidlui.t goodi, miud tcxiil.t, moviI buU, uvJ H>-Kt«l i,'.«4>.
OCCTPATIO.VS OF THE PEOPLE.
Ftom the Official Betums of the Tenth Census. 1880.
E.NCACtD IS AGRICCLTUBE. |
1870. 1S80. I Llvcry-stable keepers. ....
AirricnlturJl laborers 2.885,'.m6 3,32:1,876 J'"';;*',';*'';"
DKnmeDAmiiaiowomen 3,W) ^i«»Mu-;;UUus (prore>,-u.nal. .
Fa™ ana vlanlatiouover- 3„^'omcersoVXn,iy»D;iNavy
^^?."°'':'-';''::'".;..:'-'^;blA'^5iHM..c^H.,ds^^^ .
<iar.le;K.^,nut^-r,andvin9 5, Jl^JStTs"".'.'.-'".'".-.-.-.-.:. '
pk:;!^:^;::::-..;.:. ; g ^r^^i^i^i:^''^:^-
Tunvntinc Janners and [Ti-iaiLi-. aoa biiemmc per-
Ott^m^i^cullure -.: '•'■ "' ^^.^^ ^ ;! SSf atid de-
TvMol en;,-ased in agricult- .^.p JwhHewShl^.-.V.-.-;:.:: ;
'"'■ ^•*—^" '•"""•^•"lOtUer professions
PRorKS:ov.u.A.NDPEIisoXAL.«tRncf:5. Tola, Professional and Per-
187U. 1880. sonal Services. ..... 3
Artors . 2.051 4.Rr."i
AnhllirtS .. 3.il|7 3.3... M.OTFAtrrVKI-VG A.ND
Aitists and teachers of art ■ 4,".t 9.vn\
Aucii-jiiwrs 2,366 -•■*"i ._,,.., , , . ,
AuiUmis I.vturers, and lit- Acrlc't 1-lmpIoment makers
er.il y pi-r-^hs S46 1,111 Apprentices to trades
BarlK-rs .lud luir-ilres>ers. ^4,794 44,851 An illcial-tlower makers —
Billi.ir.l aud bov\ Uu'' s,iloOD |BaK-makers
k.viurs 1.231) l,.VUBakers
Boiir.liii.;andlodOTiir-lioiL-* |Ba>ket-makers
l„.,.|,.rj 13,783 '19,058 black^milhs
Clicmi-i.. assaj-bts, and me- iHkachers. dyers, i scourers
t.illiii-'i^ls 61I8 l.Oi'.O HlinJ, door, i sash makers.
Cler-'ViU'-ii 4I.s:4 G4,t'.:ts H.jot-makers
Clerks .illd ccpvlsts 6.1 H ii.Ji.TUoDC and ivory workers. ..
Cl'Tks inL'ovcromi'nt oOices 8,673 16,s4'i lt.>ijkhinders and finishers.
Clerks iu hotels and n-stau- l!f«it and shoe makers
r^nits 5.343 10.016 Bottles and mineral water
Collectors and claim agents. O'li 4.311; makers
IX.ntiMs 8,."iii5 12.114 nox-ractory operators
De>lgnersand draughtsmen ''•i4 2.sJi', Brass founders and workers
I>oiiie>tic servants 975,7:il I.075,6ii Bieuere and m.iltsters
Zmplov.'s of charitable In- Brick andtile makers......
stitwions 848 2.T>6 Bridire liuilder^i & contraCrs
Emplovi'-iOf Rovemment.. 14.407 31,401, Britannia and Japanned
Employt'-!, of hotels and res- I ware makers.
tauranls 1',. . 24,438 77<113 Rro,im aud brush makers-.
FnKiQcers (civil); 7,374 S.Si.lBiiil.lers and contnictors
Hostlers 17,.Wi 31.i.'i7' not sivcirled
Hotel keepers ■ 20,:f91 .33,4.'.) Butiln-rs
Hunters, trappers, inildes. | Biitler-larlory operatives.
andscouts , 1.111 1,913 cablnet-m.iker^
Janitors .'.. . - 1.769 6.763CandIe. soap, and tallow
Journalists ■......• .5.286 12.:VW' make|-s
LilJorer^inotspeelOertl .. I,03,".SVi 1.8Vr.3J( rar-iiiaWers
LiiuiiUerers and laundresses 6U.!H6 131.'il.'(ari«'nters and Joiners
lawyers.. 40.710 04.137,CariK;l-imikers
I8S4I.
14.213 Carnage and wagon makers
13.'i8."j ciiaa-oal and lime burners..
3,11s fht.ese-lnakers
311,477 Chemical works employi?3. .
13.483 cigar-inakerx
3.660 Clerks and book-kei-pers in
57,ti8l| manulacturing hou>es. ..
8.\671 ClOi-k and walch makers...
13,074|Confectioners
2.44'.i,(.VHipers ■
2,604 Copper-workers ....
jcorset makers
24,161 Cotton-mill operatives
Distillers and rectifiers —
128,160 227.710 Employes (not spe<illed) ...
1,106 2,130 Enclneers and dreiuen
[Engravers
13.384|Fenili:;er establishment
3.316| operatives
4,.570FIIe makers, cutters, and
grinders
Fishermen and ovslennen..
,(»),7'J3 4,074,238 Flax-dressers. . ■. ..Tl....
Fur-workers
Galloon, gimp, and tassel
makers
Gas-works employes
1870.
8,504
8.717
1.186
16,010
10,976
2,336
44.743
63,44.5.
35,1*5
1,151
1,177
23,338
2,8:i7.
MfXl.VG.
1870. 1830.
3,811 4.891 [Gliders.
15,303 44,170 1.; lass-works operatives
1,169 3,399|Giove-makers
S06 1 .408 Gold and silver workers
27,680 41,.309'fiun and locksmiths
3,297 .5,654, Hair cleaners and dressers.
141,774 172.731. ,Hame.-;s and saddle makers.
4,901 8.23,' Hat and cap makers
.5,l.v> 4.941; Hosiery and knitting mill
2,101 2,1*^3! ofieratives
20s 1.888 Iron and steel works and
9,104 13,«:13| shop operatives
171,127 194,079 Lace makers
Lead and wire works
2.0S1 Leather case and pocket-
1.5,763 book makers .-. ■ .
ll,5iW:Leatlier curriers, dressers,
10.278] finishers, and tanners —
3(;.o.'>3|Lumbennen and raftsmen..
2,587|>larhlnlsts
[yiiiniifacturers
1,37'.Marbie and stone cutters. . .
8,479Masons. brick and stone. ..
iMeat and fruit preservlnK
10.804 emplovt^s
76.341 Meat packers, ciu*ers and
4.8731 tilcklei-s
00,054 Mechanics (not speclHed).
I 6,080
4,694
11,346
26,070
1,039
1,092
5,816
7,511
44,1'>4
1,372
43,835
1,942
3.333
IMill and factory operatives
2,93:1 (not specified)
4,708 Millers '
3U,996 373,14) .Milliners, dress-makers, and
15,669 17,068| seamstresses
1870.
1880.
43,464
49,881
3.834
5,851
3,534
4,570
i.Mi
28,286
56.599
5,861
10,114
1,779
13,820
8,210
1.3,693
41.789
49.138
2,132
2,312
4,660
111,606
169,771
2,874
3.-245
20,242
»(,5.36
34,233
79,025
4,-.KS
4,577
316
1,383
1,413
1,839
27,M9
41,. -152
1,018
1,894
1,101
1.580
569
2,235
2,080
4,695
1,534
1.76J
9,518
17,934
2,329
4.511
18,508
28,405
8,184
10,572
1,036
1.965
82,817
39,960
12,625
16,860
3,633
12,194
86,203
114,539
1.708
2,105
....
1,847
30,678
20,8«l
17,752
30.651
W.755
101.130
42,877
44,019
25,831
32,842
89.710
103,473
770
2,860
1,164
3,430
16,514
. 7,8SS
41,610
ao.838
41,582
53,41a
M,0S4
i85,40>
I' N I T E 1) STATES U F A M E II I C A
1561
Viaen. --
UlrTor aod picture-U^me
makers
Kail makers:
Otfictats of maoufa>'njhng
oocQi>dDi«s and rommj;
C(MD;«tnies ...
Oil, nuli. acd ivdncry
operatives
Oil-weii operators on J U-
boivre
Oncan makers
PaiDiers anJ vamlsbera ,.
Paper-banpers
Paper-iTUil operatives
Paiiero-niakenj ,
Ptiotograpbers. He
Piano-fone makers and
tuners
Ptasierers
Plumbers and sas-fltiers
Potters
Printers. Uth'.-ffrapbers. and
sterViXyper*
Prini-work uiieraluvs
Publishers (.1 tKXfks. maps,
and newspapers- . ... -
Pjrap-nukfTs
Quarnmivn
<)uanz and stamp-mill U-
boivre
Rae-pickers
Railroad buUders and can-
tnicionj
Roofers and sidters —
Rope and o xlaire makers
Rubber-factoi y operatites
Sail and aw nJtig makers .
Salt-makers . . '.. ...
Saw and planinj;-miU oper-
aiiTes — . . .
Sawyers ■
Scale and rul- makers
Srrew-makirrs
Sen~io2 marhlne (acton
operailvps ..
SewinS'inarhine operator*
Stiintflr nnd laib inakr-r> .
Sliip fdrpeni^Ts, caulktT".
ricct-rs. aL"J smithi
Sbin. cuS. and ivMati.h-
kers . .
fiiU-iiitil operatives
Starch makf-ps -
Siav<-. >u<.K'h. and beadin?
makers
Steam -K'll^^r mdkepi .
Stove, funuf'-. and grjto
iiuKer*
Straw -Morki^rH,.... . ,
Su(rar-m;iV.-r* .in'lTv-nn<'rv.
Tailors and MU'-n^*<»*-s
Tfir»-jd-in:ll <)i>-r^ti\<-«i
Tinn«-r* and ciii-waO' *n:\-
, ktrr» _ .. —
Tol.;i^i(>.f.iri/>r>- op«T3riw-^
T<v>I :ind rutVnr innk'-r*
Tr.iuk and vaU-*f maV'-r-*
isro. )SfX 1 . 1S70.
13:2,I(>7 2^.^ Umbrella and parasol ma-
: kei^ 1.439
9TO S.'^t^ Vpholrfeneni • 5.736
D.jOj Wbt^-lwTiphti: ... 30.at2
Wiiv-rxiakersand wort;en> i.siU
Wood.hoppere S.33S
2,730 8,1* Wood-turners, carvers, and
woorten-ware makers T.^ur
1.747 3.Ct» Woolf n-nuli operatives . 5f.!S36
Oibors in manufacturinsr.
mechanical and milling
inJu:»tries
8.3711
Toul Manufacturini? & Min-
ing . .. ■ 2,707.421 3.
TiLiDE A\D Transport ATfON.
3.»T3 T.aw
tiiw 2,«7
Sj.123 l:^..v.';
2.490 5.0I.J
12,4UU 2l.*«
3.9C0 b^£
7.558 S.S'JO
2.5.35 5.4V^* ^^^
23.577 2i.(KJ Aeenta -. 10.449
11,143 U».:«i Bankers and brokers 10,631
5.060 7^M Boatmen and watermen -. 21,3K
Brokers (commenriaU .
41,073 72.72G Canalmen .... - ... 7.338
3.738 5,419 (.Jerks in stores 254,359
Clerks and book-keepera In
1,577 2.7S1 bankd 7,103
1.672 ],3iki Clerks and book-keepers in
13,589 IS.HjIJ express com Da Hies-- ... 767
Clerks and book-keepers in
617 1,449 insurance otEces 1.568
436 2,206 Clerks and book-keepers In
railroad office 7 374
1.392 1.20G Commercial trav eters . 7 a62
2.. 30 4.0'3'> Draymen, hackmen. team-
2.675 3,514 sterv. etc 13J.'56
3.086 6.35*:' Employes and otBcials of
2.V9 2.*'0 tradm^anJ transportation
1.721 J.4-^1 companies 4.152
£nplo>es of banks, <ix>t
47,298 77.0V> clerks) 424
6.939 5.1'.<'» Eniplojes and ofllcial of cx-
416 I.0'/7 prvss companies, (not
780 l.-^-Jl U.rt^» 8,629
EmpioMrsofinsuran'^ com-
3.<**1 2.72) i»ani*»>. (not clerks) . 11.611
3.*>W 7..vx» F.inpl'>vt^ in wareboii'=es. . . .
3.7Sf( S.lijt- Emplovrs Of raUnxid com-
panies, ^not clcrkst .. .. 154,027
ei.'irt ir.4V; Hut kvter. find peddtcPt 34.^517
Milkmen nod nnllc women 3,^■a4
J.fXn ll.K^l \e">papfr criore and car-
3,iVi H.»>7I rir-rs 2.ft>2
■^r> 1.1*1 Offlfials and cinplov^ ..f
I tmdine and iniu>pona>
l.''Vi 4.tV.i| iion«-ompauiH<i - .. 97'5
i:.^Vyj 12.771 omrnUnf bankt .- . . 2.738
: OiTlrinN of iii>urance «om-
1.%43 3.3n! iwni^-s 762
2.<«9 4.2e'' OilI< iaN of railnmd cr^in-
^ l.fiOn 2.:fc;7 pani.-s .. ..... K0i>2
tCl.dd) t3:i.7-i«;om.-i;ils and *-mplov/-< <.f
.. . , ;'1.2.'»;»i slrii-i ntijuav r/iiitpini'-^ 5,191
i'>ni'ials .nnd i-mplox.^ <\f
•V.-OI 42.«lft| l^l.CT..i.h rotni^nrex . 8,53
11/JH-. &t.Wf.omM;iK und i'nipl(.v.*-< Of
•>.T'I M.Ii't icr>'phonf (oniiwiii--*
2,0(; .3.013 r.u k.-rs . l.ftW
1890. I ICTO. 1*0.
Pilots 3,6t9 3,770
1,967 Portereand laborers In stores
10.443 and warehouses 3.513 32.192
15,592 SaUors 56.663 60.070
7,17P Salesmen and saleswomen.. 14^203 72,279
12,731 Saloon-keepers and bar-
I tenders 14,362 68.461
12.964 Shippers and freighters ... 3.567 5,106
88,010 Steam-boat men and women 7,975 12,365
{Stewards and stewardesses. 1.245 22^03
IToIl-^te and bridge keep-
13,542. ere 2.253 2,308
r-Traders and dealers (not
I si^ciGed) 101,271 1123*
,837,112 Tniders in agricultural im-
I piements 1,939 1.999
Tradere in books and
Mion stationery. .. . 3,392 4.9ft2
i«v. Traders in boots and shoes 7,019 9.993
18.523; " in cabinet ware ... 4,«?7 7,419
1 5. 18i> Traders In cigars and lo-
20..368^ bacco 8.234 11.866
4.i9:i Tradere in clothing 7,595" IO.otS
4.329] " . in coal uDd wood .. 6,636 10.S71
353.444 " inct.itouand wool 1,701 2,494
I " In crc«ker\-. china,
10,227^ glass, sloneuare. I,7C5 2,373
" In dniffs and mctli-
1,856 cinc^ 17,309 27.Tft*
Indrvp'KxIs fancy
2.S30, g;KHj>. etc ... 40,953 45^31
Id R'>M .and silver
12.331 ware and jt-w-
28,158 «-lr\ . 6.7>« 2.^16
■ " In (rT.»i enes 74.410 101.K49
177.586' " inliai" and capH fi.375 ^.W9
; " in i( •• ... 1.46* 2ju4
in iri'U. lin.andcop-
9.702 p^rwyro 9.«lil3 1^076
• •• in Junk . . 3.5r«
1,070 •• inleailior. Iiidi-»aud
!.kms 2.a-.l Q.-tfti
' •* lnlinu«tn!4uiii..< 11.17^ H.-->i>
I3,ft^ *• in Ii\*->t4.-k 7.:2.i i2.vi6
in-lumUr 9. 44.1 ll.-.>j3
13.1W. " ininar)>l4'.«>t<'n*-,nud
5.i>i: slate ... \*(^
In niusirnivlimi-ic-
23f..«v^ Bl ii:Mniii»nls ftl8 l.^i6
53.i'"i " iu iiiu>p.Ti^is and
9.212 |Mri.-ilii;tK .. 1.4*«*» ^.^.•^»
! •' in t-jl<. pHims. nod
3,374 iiirpriititi'' . Wi- l.'Mii
in |>;ij-T and prtj^-T
M.-k . i.<va
9,''>J " in Pf'^l'"^' «ndi>r,t.
4.4.'l \i^i..n* .. i9.T3; r..i*»
; •• (n r. ill .M.ilc K'-il n.2M
1.774 *' in \«-\»inn iiia-
' rhin-^ . 3.»*»2 r..-.77
2.rt-9 Und,rtaV< r% . . . .- ^^'*• r-.ilJ
•wpighiTs. (mui:» r*. aud
n.'.rii, nicasurxrs .... O-.V r».3r2
l>ilnTs in trade nud lrai;s-
22,ftX>| pirtaiion . ^^
1.197 Tot:»I Tmd^ nnd Traa-*-
4.176 CH^rtauon i.l'.n.ew i.<ilf*.2:<
!n.'MM.*RY OF O^0U^.^TIlM/5 BY STATES.
A'aKima
Ariziina
Arkan<is
California —
rolor.i«lo
Conil'-ilirut .- .
I>akota
Ivlaware
l>i-!. Columbia
Tlorida
ij-Tina..
Jd.iho ;....
lUilWH
iH'lMna
1'nv;i .....;..,.
>i-m*i-*
JvHiiiu'-ky
J^iiitisina.
^lHin«r
^UrAUnd '
Ma'^^arltuseU*
>Ii*htff;»n
N:nn«->ni.i
OlWsix-sIppl....
^li'«M>uf1 .^...
AiunUna .....
...I
~ 3
Li. ■
SI
1
[ Tff.RifoaiK&
1=
»
-J?
7.1-1
i^
511
?1?
ii}4
i
0
Eil
f.4i
R!^
*- ■•
fc-i.3.
■^■^-ea
1
ti
■•^^ m
u ; i
»!.«)
73.011
in.vA
•■HMR
NVlira^ka
00 .V7
■i^: r-
IM'V.
l.< 2V»
.LWi
«.-.'lo
3.J-."
T.:(74
Nevada
4.1*1
ii>.3; 1
4.440
H.JII
2H..r-.v,
nl'*
!>.4W
51.:tK
Nfw Hnmp«:hirp.
4-1.4W
V^" -J"'"".
11.-. l^
W.irl7
7^i.«K
ISl.JV.
.'.7.:tt.'
1I<.2<J
.Vcw Jv*ru-y
.'•(1.21 1
)i<\:-.'--
ntsl-".'
1"'.-J.I
l^vil
•il.Kll
I.\4'^1
47.4.N
Now Mexico
11.119
1''..112
:i.---4
4.:«r7
■H/i--";
5i.ai<i-
ffi.'rS)
w..m
New York
.•177.4..1
Til", *^K
.'W.4i:>
r20-»j-
2K.-.H
11.010
i;.-,'io
!>.101
Nrtrth Carolina ..
»J\ft17
"••.•.T.M
IV"--
?,v«
IT.HJ'l
ir.cio
4.'«i7
14.14S
Ohio
307.4'i.-,
2.^1.171
1W.11.-.
242.204
l.W»
3^.0,-.
9.!i«
i.-.,:cir
27.ifil
10."4--.
i:.ij;i
17.4W
5«.ni
ir.'W)
6.441;
K.!;!-;
Pi nn-vUnnia . . .
.yil.llJ
440.711
i:o.'»L%
*J<.277
■«;.-4l4
lOl.ifiO
3>;.i.ir
nn-^I.- Mand.. .
l".'.'l-.
2i.';.'-7
1.-..21:
K-.li'l
3.SW
i.v^r
i;.r..«
■JM n>.'
r-i.iV,
u-v!
lO.i.-M
4-'!';.j;i
12<,lri
21V..-.M
Tcnii**ss*^'
201. IV)
S4.1i>7
Sl.^"
SI..1K2
»ii.-i«
wr.jHi
sf-.te
lli'.l-.'7
a-.i.:;ir
I'7 v. I
34.'»J
3i>,t4r.
.litt.V.7
Jrtl.'tW
V\'i7J
■ l.O.'ll
ruh
I4,.V-1
11.114
4.140
10.212
2i>i..k.1
■ W.™'7
S<;.:!l-:>
v.-rnnnt
V. r.i
2R.174
R.OIJ
Sfi,214
.w.5:i
1.H.SR1
.■Jl.v.l
fl.4^1
Virginia
2.-i4.iy'.i
lUi.r.".!
a\4H>
m.n-,"
ar^Tiv;
■►.111
--MX
Sf.iVSI
W'a'ihincton
12.7<1
C.«4<)
3.4<13
"2*;
if.iai
,47.(11
T2 ec:
!u>..t Virgluia...
lfC.r>7«
Sl.l.si)
lOAVJ
I>..J«
!><.-rl7
' !«.r>U
40.-iM
R-..117
IW.oni •
07.4-4
37..VO
Sv>10
f.ll'.l
I7i>.l>irt
11.-..1T1-,
STli.i-o
^Vyoiiiing
l/viO
4,il|I
l.M.'i
!.<«>
2H*3I0
14'IC4'»
51 T'T
1*1.011
a>.7s?i
iii.-.ri
■ .'V'».4".J
24.14a
V S.-Tot«). 18SP
^.e^Moi
4.I174.2W
i.sio.ay;
3.*17.IIi
OT'.'rW
4'1.) 1»
li'T.
M.ir.
1 Tdar, 1-70
S.Ov^.lM
2.&S4,7H
l,191.iK .
2.707.421
■tl-,»f
■ 7".»»
i""!.::!
:inc'-t*a'a'in 1**\ts.
• i.74>i.i).>^;
1,3S'.44>
cio.vm
1.120.691
. -I.MI
l'..»%4
2.765
K.(«i
1 ••p.T... •■ .
29 51
M T.)
.11.01;
41.758
1562
UNITED STATES OF AMERICA
Relative Kaxk of States and Tkbbitobies in
Respect of Population.
The subjoined lists show the relative order of
rank of the forty-four states and of four territories
in 1890; also the order and rank of the states and
territories in 18S0. Indian Territory and Alaska
are not included. The District of Columbia is
included in both lists :
1890.
1880.
1 New York.
1 New York.
2 Pennsylvania.
2 Pennsylvania.
3 Illinois.
3 Ohio.
4 Ohio.
4 Illinois.
5 Missouri.
5 Missouri.
6 Massachusetts.
6 Indiana.
7 Texas.
7 Massachusetts.
8 Indiana.
8 Kentucky.
9 Michigan.
9 Michigan.
10 Iowa.
10 Iowa.
11 Kentucky.
11 Texas.
12 Georgia.
12 Tennessee.
13 Tennessee.
13 Georgia.
14 "Wisconsin.
14 Virginia.
15 Virginia.
15 North Carolina.
16 Xortli Carolina.
16 Wisconsin.
17 Alabama.
17 Alabama.
18 New Jersey.
18 Mississippi.
19 Kansas.
19 New Jersey.
20 Minnesota.
20 Kansas.
21 Mississippi.
21 South Carolina.
22 California.
22 Louisana.
23 South Carolina.
23 JIaryland.
24 Arkansas.
24 California.
25 Louisiana.
25 Arkansas.
26 Nebraska.
26 Minnesota.
27 Jlaryland.
27 Maine.
28 West Virginia.
28 Connecticut.
29 Connecticut.
29 West Virginia.
30 Maine.
30 Nebraska.
31 Colorado.
31 New Hampshire.
32 Florida.
32 Vermont.
33 New Hampshire.
33 Rhode Island.
34 Washington.
34 Florida.
35 Rhode Island.
35 Colorado.
36 Vermont.
36 District of Columbia
37 South Dakota.
37 Oregon.
38 Oregon.
38 Delaware.
39 District Columbia.
39 rtah (Ter.).
40 Utah ;Ter.).
40 Dakota fTer.).
41 North Dakota.
41 New Mexico (Ter.).
42 Delaware.
42 Washington (Ter.;.
43 New Mexico (Ter.).
43 Nevada.
44 Montana.
44 Arizona (Ter.).
45 Idaho.
45 Montana (Ter.).
46 Oklahoma (Ter.).
46 Idaho (Ter.).
47 Wyoming.
47 Wyoming (Ter.).
48 Arizona (Ter.).
49 Nevada.
It will be seen that, as in 1880, New York still
led the list in 1890, and was followed by Pennsyl-
vania. Ohio and Illinois had exchanged places.
Of the other changes in the list the most marked
were those of Texas, which had risen from No. 11
to No. 7; Kentucky, wliich dropped from 8 to 11;
Minnesota, which had risen from 26 to 20; Ne-
braska, which had risen from 30 to 26 ; Maryland,
which dropped from 23 to 27; Colorado, which had
risen from 35 to 31 ; Vermont, which had dropped
from 32 to 36; AVashington, which had risen from
42 to 34 ; Delaware, which had dropped from 38 to
42; Nevada, which had dropped from 43 to 49, and
Arizona, which had dropped from 44 to 48.
Center of Population* of The United States.
'The center of population is the center of gravity
of the population of the country, each individual
being assumed to have the same weight. The
method of determination used, in order that the
result might be comparable with that obtained in
1880, was in brief as follows:
The population of the country was first dis-
tributed by "square degrees," as the area included
between consecutive parallels and meridians has
been designated. A point was then assumed ten-
tatively as the center, and corrections in latitude
and longitude to this tentavive position were com-
puted. In this case the center was assumed to be
at the intersection of the parallel of 39° with the
meridian of 86*^ west of Greenwich. The popu-
lation of each square degree was assumed to be
located at the center of that square degree, except
in cases where it was manifest that this assump-
tion would be untrue, as, for instance, where a part
of the square degree was occupied by the sea or
other large body of water, or where it contained a
city of considerable magnitude which was situated
"off center." In these cases the position of the
population of the square degree was estimated as
nearly as possible. The distance of each such
center of population of a square degree, whether
assumed to be at the center of the square degree
or at a distance from the center, from the assumed
parallel, and from the assumed meridian, were
then computed. The population of each square
degree was then multiplied bv its distance from
the assumed parallel of latitude, and the sum of
the products, or moments, north and south of tljat
parallel made up. Their difference, divided by
the total population of the country, gave a correc-
tion to the latitude. In a similar manner the east
and west moments were made up. and from thema>
correction in longitude was obtained.
In 1790 the center of population was at 39° 16.5''
north latitude and 76° 11.2' west longitude, whiclv
a comparison of the best maps available would
seem to place about twenty-three miles east of
Baltimore. During the decade of 1790 to 1800 it
appears to have moved almost due west to a point
about eighteen miles west of the same city, being-
in latitude 39° 16.1' and longitude 76° 56.5'.
From 1800 to 1810 it moved westward and slightly
southward to a point about forty miles northwest by
west from Washington,being in latitude39° 11.5' and
longitude 77° 37.2'. The southward movement
during this decade appears to have been due to the
annexation of the territory of Louisiana, which
contained quite extensive settlements.
From 1810 to 1820 it moved westward and again
slightly southward to a point about sixteen miles
north of Woodstock, Virginia, being in latitude
39° 5.7' and longitude 78° 33'. This second south-
ward movement appears to have been due to the
extension of settlement in Mississippi, Alabama
and eastern Georgia.
From 1820 to 1830 it moved still westward and
southward to a point about nineteen miles south-
west of Mooretield, in the present State of West
Virginia, being in latitude 38° 57.9' and longitude
79° 16.9'. This is the most decided southward
movement that it has made during any decade. It
appears to have been due in part to the addition of
Florida to our territory and in part to the great
extension of settlements in Louisiana. Jlississippi,
and Arkansas, or generally, it may be said, in the
southwest.
* Furnisheci bv Heurv Gannett to the Census Department
Washington, D.'C, Feb". 18, 1891.
UNITED STATES OF AMERICA
1563
Position of the Center of Popil.\tion.
Year?.
North
latitude.
West
longitude.
Approximate locations by important towns.
Westward movement
during
preceding decade.
17W)
1800
1810
1820
1830
1810
1850
1860
1870
18S0
1890
39° 16.5'
39 16.1
39 U.5
39 5.7
38 57.9
39 2.0
38 59.0
39 0.4
39 12.0
39 4.1
39 11.9
76=' 11.2'
76 56.5
77 37.2
78 33.0
79 16.9
SO 18.0
81 19.0
82 48.8
83 35.7
84 39.7
85 32.9
23 miles east of Baltimore, Marvland
18 miles west of Baltimore. Maryland
41 miles.
36 do.
50 do.
39 do.
55 do.
55 do.
81 do.
42 do.
58 do.
48 do.
40 miles northwest by west of Washington, District of Columbia. .
16 miles north of Woodstock, Virginia
19 miles west-southwest of Moorefield, West Virginia
16 miles south of Clarksburg. West Virginia
23 miles southeast of Parkersburg, West Virginia
20 miles south of Chillicothe, Ohio ^
48 miles east by north of Cincinnati, Ohio
8 miles west bv south of Cincinnati, Ohio
20 miles east of Columbus, Indiana
From 1830 to 1840 it moved still further west-
ward, but slightly changed its direction north-
ward, reaching a point sixteen miles south of
Clarksburg, West Virginia, being in latitude 39° 2'
and longitude 80° 18'. During this decade settle-
ment had made decided advances in the prairie
states and in the southern portions of Michigan
and Wisconsin, the balance of increase settlement
evidently being in favor of the northwest.
From 1840 to 1850 it moved westward and slightly
southward again, reaching a point about twenty-
three miles southeast of Parkersburg, West Vir-
ginia, in latitude 38° 59' and longitude 81° 19', the
change of direction southward being largely due
to the annexation of Texas.
From 1850 to 1860 it moved westward and slightly
northward, reaching a point twenty miles south of
Chillicothe, Ohio, this being in latitude 39° 0.4',
longitude 82° 48.8'.
From 1860 to 1870 it moved westward and sharply
northward, reaching a point about forty-eight
miles east by north of Cincinnati, Ohio, in latitude
39° 12', longitude 83° 35.7'. This northward move-
ment was due in part to waste and destruction in
the South consequent upon the civil war, and in
part probably to the fact that the census of 1870
was defective in its enumeration of the Southern
people, especially of the newly-enfranchised
colored population.
In 1880 the center of population had returned
southward to nearly the same latitude which it
had in 1860, being in latitude 39° 4.1', longitude 84°
39.7' This southward movement was due only in
part to an imperfect enumeration at the South in
1564
UNITED STATES OF AMERICA
1870. During the decade between 1870 and 1880 the
Southern States made a large positive increase,
both from natural growth and from immigration
southward.
During the past decade the center of population
has moved northward into practically the same
latitude which it occupied in 1870. It has moved
westward 53' 13", or forty-eight miles, being less by
ten miles than its movement during the preceding
decade, six miles greater than the movement
between 1860 and 1870, and slightly less than the
average westward movement since the first cen-
sus, its present position being in latitude 39° 11' 56"
and longitude 85° 32' 53". The most salient point
of its progress during the past decade is the north-
ing which has been made, which is doubtless due
to the great development in the cities of the
Northwest and in the State of Washington, and in
no small degree to the increase of population in
New England.
The center of the area of the United States
excluding Alaska is in Northern Kansas, in approx-
imate latitude 39° 55' and approximate longitude
98° 50'. 'The center of population is therefore
about three-fourths of a degree south and more
than seventeen degrees east to the center of area.
The table and map, on page 1563, show the
movement of the center of population since 1790.
White and Colored Population of the South.
The Southern States, in which comparisons are
usually made between the white and colored popu-
lation, embrace seventeen states and the District
of Columbia. The abnormal increase of the col-
ored population in what is known as the "Black
Belt" during the decade ending in 1880 led to the
popular belief that the negroes were increasing at
a much greater rate than the white population.
This error was a natural one. and arose from the
difficulty of ascertaining how much of the increase
shown by the Tenth Census was real, and how
much was due to the omissions of the census of
1870. The census reports of the Southern States
and of the District of ColumViia, by decades for
the last half century, are given in the subjoined
table :
Population.
Number of
Per cent, of in-
crease.
colored
to 100,000
Years.
White.
Colored.
white.
White.
Colored.
1790
1800
1,271,48S
1,702.980
689,881
64,258
918,336
53,925
33.94
33,1 i
1810
2,208,785
1,272,119
57,594
29.70
.3,8.52
1820
2,831,-560
1,653,240
58,486
28.20
29.96
1830
3.6130.758
2,187,545
59,757
29.28
32.32
1840
4,6:!2,.530
2,701,901
58,3-25
26.55
23.51
1850
6,222.418
3,442,238
55,329
34 32
27.40
1860
8,203,852
4.216,2U
51,393
31.84
32.49
1870
9,812,732
4. .555 ,990
46,429
19.61
8.06
1880
13 ,530,408
6,142,360
45,397
37 89
34.82
1890
16,868,205
6,996.166
41.475
24-67
13.90
It will be seen that in 1890, there were in the
states under discussion 6,996,166 colored inhab-
itants, and in 1880, 6,142,360. The colored element
increased during the decade at the rate of 13.90
per cent. The white population of these states in
1890 numbered 16,868,205, and in 1880, 13,530,408.
They increased during the decade at the rate of
24.67 per cent, or nearly twice as rapidly as the
colored element. In 1880 the proportion of white
to persons of color in these states was in the rela-
tion of 100,000 to 45„S97. In 1890 the proportion of
the latter class had diminished, being then as 100,-
000 to 41,475. During the last decade the colored
race has not held its own against the white in a
region where the climate and conditions are, of all
those which the country affords, the best suited t«
its development.
Referring again to this table, it is seen that in
but three decades, that is, from 1800 to 1830, during
a part of which time the slave trade was in pro-
gress, has the colored race increased more rapidly
than the white. Since 1830 the white people have
steadily increased at a more rapid rate than the
colored. This increase has not been eflfected by
the aid of immigration, for with the exception of
Kansas and Missouri these states have received
comparatively few immigrants either from foreign
countries or from the Northern States.
Similarly the proportion of the colored inhabit-
ants to the white increased somewhat between
1800 and 1830, but since that time it has steadily
diminished. In 1830, when this proportion was at
its maximum, there were nearly six colored inhab-
itants to ten white, but this proportion has been
reduced to a trifle more than four at the present
date, or by nearly one-third of its amount.
The Census Department states that the deficien-
cies of the Ninth Census are so apparent in this
table that any extended reference to them is
wholly unnecessary.
Of the total colored population in 1890 there
were 2,581 Chinese, 100 Japanese, and 8,207 ("civil-
ized" and counted) Indians, leaving of the Africaa
race 6,996,166.
Population op the State of California by Racb.
In 1890 a special count by race was made by the
United States Census Office, for the State of Cali-
fornia in order to separate the Chinese and Indi-
ans from the rest of the population, as required by
the laws of that State, for the purposes of State
apportionment. The results of this special count
showed that, for the State as a whole, the white
population had increased from 767,181 in 1880, to
1,111,558 in 1890, an increase of 344,377, or 44.89 per
cent. The colored population in the State showed
an increase during the decade of 5,419, or 90.05 per
cent, while there had been a decrease in the Chi-
nese of 3,451, or 4.59 per cent. The whole number
of Indians in the State was less in 1890 than in 1880
by 3,922, or a decrease of 24.10 per cent. The num-
ber of Japanese in 1890, as compared with 1880, was
large, although relatively small as compared with
the whole population. The number of Japanese
returned in 1890 was 1,099, as against 86 in 1880.
The total population of the State for 1890 was
1,208,130, as compared with 864,694 for 1880, the
increase being 343,436, and the per cent of increase
39.72.
Population With Reference to Mean Annual
Temperature.
In the following table from census reports of
1890 (furnished by Henry Gannett, of Washington,
D. C, from data contributed by Gen. A. W. Greely
and other officers of the U. S. Weather Bureau)
the 1st column shows the degrees of temperature;
the 2d, 3d, and 4th columns a distribution of popu-
lation in accordance with the isothermal lines, sub-
ject to the supposition that the entire population
of the country was at each date 100,000 persons, or,
in other words, these columns show the percentage
of the population which was at the date designated
living between the various isothermal lines, the
computation being carried out to the thousandth
of 1 per cent. The 5th and 6th columns show the
change in the number from census to census under
the same assumption that the entire population
UNITED STATES OF AMERICA
1566
PopcuiTioN With Reference to Mean Annual Temperatdre.
Degrees of
Number in 100.000
Inhabitants. i
t
Change in Nnm-!
ber 100,000. j
Number in lOO.OOO
Above Each Group.
Density of Popu-
lation.
Increase in
Density
of Population.
Temperature.
1890.
1880.
1870.
lS80-'90.
1870- '80.
1890.
1880.
1870.
1890.
1880.
1870.
1880-'90.
1870- '80.
Below 40
40 to45
45 to50
SO to55
1,653
8.180
37,423
31,583
13.775
9,865
6,279
1,210
32
1,155
7,413
37,324
32,!)96
14,230
9,982
6,262
14816
22
919
7,U9
28,986
33,182
13,723
9,152
5,662
1,242
15
498
767
99
—813
—455
-117
17
—6
10
236
294
-1,662
-786
507
830
600
—26
7
1.653
9333
37,256
68,839
82,614
92,479
98,758
99,968
10O.0OO
1,155
8,568
35,892
68.288
82.518
92,500
98,762
99.978
100.000
919
8.038
37.024
70.206
83,929
93,081
98,743
99,985
100 .000
4,699
12515
28,610
31,024
22,780
17393
14,161
7,493
3,597
2,635
9405
22366
25,545
18388
14,532
11,331
6,015
2,009
1,612
6,722
18,650
20,U3
14,005
10,240
7,881
4,702
1,031
2,064
3,410
5,744
5,479
3,892
3361
2,827
1,478
1388
1,038
23W
4,216
5343
S5to60
60 to65
4383
4,292
65 to 70
3,452
1,39S
9%
70 to 75
Above 75
was 100,000. The 7th. 8th, and 9th columns show
the number of inhabitants, the total population
being assumed at 100,000, living under temperate
conditions below each of the several groups. The
10th, 11th, and 12th columns show the density of
population, t". c, the number of inhabitants per
square mile in each of the several groups, while
the last two columns show the increase in density.
A glance at above table will show that in 1870. 1880,
and 1890 more than half the population was living
under a temperature between 45 and 55 degrees,
and that between 45 and 60 degrees were found
from 70 to 75 per cent of the inhabitants. Only a
trifle over one per cent were living where the
temperature was greater than 70 degrees, while in
the region whose mean annual temperature was
above 75 degrees the number of inhabitants was
trifling. The number of inhabitants to the square
mile not only expresses the density of popluation,
but also gives a comparative measure of the abso-
lute number and the increase in absolute number.
The greatest density is and has been since 1870,
•where the temperature ranges from 50 to 55 de-
grees. From this as a maximum it diminishes
rapidly both with an increase and decrease of
temperature. The most rapid proportional in-
crease in population has taken place at the two
extremes, where it has trebled during the twenty
years intervening between 1870 and 1890, while in
the same time it has increased but about 50 per
cent in the most densely-settled group.
The average annual temperature of the territory
of the United States, excluding Alaska from con-
sideration, is 53 degrees. The average annual
temperature under which the people of the country
live, taking into account the density of settlement,
is practically the same.
dlsteibutios of popul.\t10n in accordance with
Topographic Featcues.
The following table based on an exceedingly in-
structive subdivision of the territory of the United
States into areas differing in the character of their
surface, their products, and their climate, and clas-
sifying the population in accordance therewith, has
been condensed from a department of the Census
of 1890 prepared by Henry Gannett, Geographer
and Agent of the Census Department. The clas-
sification covers the population of the official cen-
sus of 1890, 1880, and 1870.
Regions.
Coast swamps
Atlantic plain
Piedmont region
New Eugland hills
Appalachian Mountain region. .
Cumberland - Allegheny pla-
teau
Interior timber region
Lake region
Ozark Mountain region
Alluvial region of the Missis-
sippi
Prairie region
Great Plains
North Rocky mountains
South Rocky mountains,
Plateau region
Basin region
Columbian mesas
Sierra Nevada
Pacific valley
Cascade range
Coast ranges
Population in
Thousands.
1890.
1880.
1309
1.569
8.784
7113
7.858
6.660
2.290
2J71
2,849
2386
5.749
4,787
11JJ92
9,891
3378
2307
1,041
734
885
683
13,0)8
9,777
737
222
153
50
247
192
110
81
403
252
210
91
146
136
135
248
179
M
810
552
1.284
5,546
5,f68
1.995
1,959
3,940
7,976
1,722
473
460
6,715
73
29>
78
29
149
29
111
166
30
3
O—
oi
n
21.5
74-4
69.5
40.7
49.8
593
443
25J
233
23.6
28.3
1.4
1.1
24
0.7
1.4
1.9
4.9
9.1
53
14.3
Topographical Description. — Coast Swamps.
These swamps are found along the South Atlantic
and Gulf coasts, extending inland to varying dis-
tances, in some places as much as a hundred miles.
They have the greater breadth in North Carolina
and Louisiana, but border the coast nearly all the
way from southeast Virginia to the mouth of the
Eio Grande, Texas. Upon the Atlantic coast the
surface of these swamps, while exceedingly level,
has ample slope for drainage, and accordingly as
the land becomes valuable their borders are being
drained and converted into farms. In the Caro-
linas a considerable area of them is utilized for
rice plantations. In the main they are well tim-
bered, principally with cypress and juniper, among
which is a luxuriant growth of cane. The popula-
tion of this region is mainly of the colored race,
the climate being very unhealthy for the white
1566
UNITED STATES OF AMERICA
Atlantic Plain.
The Atlantic plain comprises the strip of land
lying between the Coast swamps and the fall line
throughout the Atlantic States south of New York
and the Gulf States as far as the Mississippi River.
It is characterized by a level surface, a low eleva-
tion, scarcely reaching two hundred feet above the
sea, is underlaid by recent sedimentary rocks, and
except where they have been removed by the
hands of man is covered with pine forests.
Piedmont Region.
This region comprises a strip of country extend-
ing from Main to Alabama, lying between the fall
line on the east and the Blue Ridge on the west.
It is underlaid by metamorphic rocks and forested
with a mixed growth of broad and narrow leaf
trees. The lower portion is comparatively level,
being broken only by the beds of streams, but in
the neighborhood of the Blue Ridge and through-
out New England it is hilly.
Neiv England Hills.
This name has been applied to the hill country
in the upper part of New England, including all of
the upper part of Maine, the White Mountains of
New Hampshire, the Green Mountains of Vermont,
and the Adirondacks of New York, all of which is
a broken, mountainous country, ranging in eleva-
tion from one to six thousand feet, and covered
with forests.
Appalachian Mountain Region.
This region includes the Blue Ridge and the
Appalachian valley lying immediately north and
west of it, and extends from New Jersey to Ala-
bama and Georgia. The Blue Ridge, consisting of
a single range throughout Pennsylvania, Mary-
land, and Virginia, expands in North Carolina into
a very complex mass of mountains, and there
reaches its maximum elevation, namely, 6,700 feet.
The Appalachian valley is drained in New Jer-
sey and Pennsylvania by the Delaware and Susque-
hanna rivers, in Virginia by the Potomac, the
James, and Kanawha rivers, and in Tennessee
mainly by the Tennessee River. It is traversed by
numerous ranges, some of them assuming the dig-
nity of seperate mountain ranges, and all of them
running closely parallel to one another and to the
general direction of the valley.
Cumberland- Allegheny Plateau.
Rising from the northwest border of the Appal-
achian valley is an escarpment extending more or
less continuously from northeastern Pennsylvania
down through Maryland, Virginia, and Tennessee
into Alabama. From the summit of this escarp-
ment a plateau stretches with a general northwest-
ern slope. This plateau is everywhere deeply
scored by streams with a general northwesterly
direction. These streams have cut the plateau
into a mass of very irregular ridges and gorges,
making it one of the most intricate mountain
regions on the globe. The entire region is
densely covered with forests, the hand of man
having removed but a very small part of them.
Interior Timbered Region.
This region comprises southern Ohio and Indi-
ana, the western half of Kentucky and Tennessee,
and the northeastern part of Mississippi, together
with small areas in adjoining states. It pos-
sesses no characteristic features beyond the fact
that except in the settled regions it is covered with
forests.
Lake Ri ijlim.
A narrow strip of country bordering on the Great
Lakes has been segregated under this name, It
includes small parts of New York, Pennsylvania,
and Ohio, and most of ^lichigan, Wisconsin, and
northern Minnesota. Owing to the proximity of
large bodies of water this region has many of
the characteristics of a coast climate. The at-
mosphere being moist, the winters are abnormally
warm and the summers abnormally cool. This
region contains great pine forests, which are
still serving as a main source of supply of that
timber.
Ozark Mountain Region.
This region is located in northwest Arkansas,
southwest Missouri, and the eastern part of Indian
territory. In Arkansas it is made up of a succes-
sion of narrow ranges 2,000 to 3,000 feet high hav-
ing a generally east and west trend, separated by
somewhat broad valleys. Further to the northeast,
in Missouri, the hills become merely a confused
mass, without order or system.
Alluvial Region of the Mississippi.
This region extends in a rapidly widening strip
from Cairo, at the mouth of the Ohio, to the coast
swamps in Louisiana, into which it merges without
any sharp line of demarcation. It includes parts
of the states of Missouri, Arkansas, Mississippi,
and Louisiana, besides a trifling area in Kentucky
and Tennessee. Much the larger portion of it is
marshy, and is below the level of the waters in the
rivers. The dry land lies mainly along the imme-
diate banks of the streams, having been formed by
deposition from overflows. With the exception of the
cultivated land this region is entirely covered with
forests. The soil is of the highest degree of fertil-
ity, but the climate is hostile to the white race, and
by far the larger proportion of its inhabitants arf
of the colored race.
Prairie Region.
This region comprises a small portion of western
Indiana, most of Illinois and Iowa, southern Wis
cousin and Minnesota, northern Missouri, eastern
Dakota, Kansas, and Nebraska, and extends in a
broad belt down through the Indian territory and
Texas.
On the east it merges by insensible degrees into
the forest-clad regions, and on the west by equally
insensible degrees into the Great Plains. It is a
region of transition from the one to the other. Its
climate is such that without protection forests can
not thrive. Before the advent of man various
unfavorable conditions, among which forest fires
were the most prominent, prevented the growlh of
forests in this region.
Its surface is level or slightly undulating, and
was, in its natural state, covered with luxuriant
grasses, but timber growth was scarce, and was
confined almost entirely to the bluffs and the
borders of streams. With the protection afforded
by man the growth of forests has increased in this
region, until now it presents a landscape, diversi-
fied by a tree growth, whose extent is constantly
increasing. It is the granary of the country.
Great Plains.
Merging with the prairie region by insensible
degrees are the Great Plains, extending from
approximate longitude 99° to the foot of the Rocky
Mountains, and from the Canadian border to the
Rio Grande. It is a region devoid of timber,
except in the narrowest strips along certain
U ^■ I T E D STATES OF A M E R I C A
1567
streams, but sparsely covered with bunch grass,
changing in the more arid regions to sage, arte-
niisia, cactus, and yucca. Its surface is a monot-
onous, billowy expanse, broken only here and
tliere by lines of cliffs and buttes.
Throughout this region the rainfall is insufficient
(or the needs of agriculture, and irrigation is
necessary for the cultivation of the soil. The sup-
ply oi water in the flowing streams is sufficient- to
irrigate only a small part of the land, and the
exteiit to which settlement is possible will in the
futurt' become therefore a question of the abund-
ance iif water and not of land.
ConJUhran Begion.
The Cordilleran region is naturally subdivided
into districts, wliich differ from one another in cer-
tain features and have other features' in common.
Kxcept in the extreme northwest, in Washington,
Western Oregon, and Northwest California, the
(•limate is arid and the rainfall is insuthcient for
agriculture. This aridity of climate and deficency
of rainfall increase southw.ird and reach a maxi-
mum in Southern Nevada, California, and Arizona.
The prevalence of forests accompanies the rain-
fall. Upon the northwest coast and inland as far
as the Cascade range in Oregon and Washington
the country is densely covered with forests of
great trees. This forest belt extends inland
through Northern Washington and Idaho into the
mountainous region of Montana, and thence south-
eastward, accompanying the mountain ranges into
the Yellowstone Park. Elsewhere no forests are
found except upon the mountains, and in the more
arid regions of the south even the mountains are
bare to their summits. The valleys produce only
the vegetation characteristic of an arid region.
Where the rainfall is abundant bunch grass is
foifnd, but as the rainfall diminishes and the dry-
ness of the atmosphere increases, the vegetation of
the valleys changes to artemisia, cactus, yucca, and
other desert plants.
Rocl-y Mountain Region.
This region, including the easternmost portion
of the Cordilleran system, comprising Western
Montana, Eastern Idaho, Western Wyoming, Cen-
tral Colorado and New Mexico, with a little of
Texas, is composed of a series of ranges separated
by valleys of greater or Ipss breadth, trending
parallel to one another a little west of north and
east of south. It is naturally subdivided into two
parts. The northern part extends from Canada
southeastward into Central Wyoming; thence for
a distance of a hundred miles or thereabouts the !
mountain ranges disappear, leaving in their place |
only broad plateaus. The ranges reappear in South- 1
em Wyoming and extend thence southward. In I
the northern part the mountains range from nine
to thirteen thousand or more feet in altitude, rising
from a base of four or five thousand feet. In the
southern part the base is much higher, rising in
Colorado to six or eight thousand feet, with high
mountain valleys reaching 10,000 feet above the
sea, while many of the ranges exceed 14,000 feet in
altitude. Both the general level of the country
and the mountain ranges diminish in altitude
southward.
Plateau Region.
This region comprises most of the drainage basin
of the Colorado River aVtove the mouth of the Vir-
gin in Southern Nevada. It is a region of great
plateaus, whose surfaces are level or slightly in-
clined, and which terminate with great lines of
cliffs, in some cases thousands of feet in height.
From the mountains which border this range on
the east, north and west, these plateaus descend by
a succession of gigantic steps from an elevation of
I twelve thousand feet down to one or two thousand
feet abo%-e the sea. Every stream is in a canon,
I and as the rainfall is light and spasmodic a great
j majority of these canons are dry during the greater
part of the year. In many regions these caiions
are so abundant as to have reduced the plateau to
a mere skeleton, or the process of erosion may
have gone still further, so that nothing is left of
the upper iilateau but fragments in the form of
mesas and buttes.
The higher plateaus in the neighborhood of the
mountains are green and forested from the abun-
dant rainfall. The lower plateaus, on the other
hand, have only the sparsest vegetation or are
absolutely sterile.
Basin Region.
In the interior of the Cordilleran region is an
area comprising practically all of Nevada, Western
Utah, part of Eastern California, and Southern
Oregon, which has no drainage to the sea. It is a
closed basin. The only discharge of its waters is
by sinking into the thirsty soil or by evaporation
into the thirsty atmosphere. This is the most
desert part of the country, with the exception of
the course of the lower Colorado and Gila rivers.
The rainfall is scanty, even upon the mountains;
so scanty, indeed, that there are but two or three
running streams of any magnitude within it. Its
surface is diversified by many ranges of mountains
having a general parallel trend, rising from flat
valleys filled with alluvium. These ranges divide
the basin into numerous minor basins, in each of
which water collects and sinks. In the eastern
part the largest basin is that known as the Great
Salt Lake, into which several small streams flow
from the Wasatch Mountains. In the western part
the principal basin is that of the Humboldt River.
The elevation of the floor of the basin ranges from
6,000 feet near its middle line, downward, reaching
in Death Valley, in Eastern California, an eleva-
tion of 200 feet below the level of the sea.
Cohimbian Mesas.
The drainage basin of the Snake River, in Idaho,
Oregon, and Washington, together with a part
of the basin of the Columbia, in the latter state,
has been in great part covered by eruptions of
basalt, which, bursting out of the soil at various
points, has spread over the country, forming a
table-land.
Sierra Nevada.
Separating the Great Basin from the California
valley, in eastern California, is a broad, heavy
forest-covered range of mountains with long slopes
to the west and an abrupt ascent to the east.
Pacific Valley.
AVest of the Cascade range and the Sierra Nevada
and stretching from Puget sound to southern Cal-
ifornia is a valley drained in Oregon by the Will-
amette and in California by the Sacramento and
San Joaquin rivers. In its southern part, south of
the latitude of the Bay ol San Francisco, the clim-
ate is such that irrigation is necessary, while north
of it the rainfall is sufficient, and in Oregon and
Washington is more than sufficient for the farmer's
needs. Where the rainfall is insufficient this val-
ley is treeless, but farther north, and especially
in Oregon and Washington, it is covered with dense
forests.
1568
UNITED STATES OF A .M E R I C A
Cascade Range.
Stretching northward in line with the Sierra
Kevada, but distinguished sliarply from it by the
character of its formation, is the Cascade range.
It is a series of extinct volcanoes, rising from a
high plateau of volcanic rock. This range is
densely forested.
Coast Ranges.
Separating this valley from the Pacific is a suc-
cession of ranges trending parallel with the
coast and known as the Coast ranges. In southern
California the valleys among these ranges are
of the highest degree of fertility and produce
grapes and tropical fruits in profusion. Farther
north the country is but little settled or even
explored.
Distribution of Population With Refbrbnck to
Mean Annual Rainfall.
In 1890 Mr. Gannett obtained (from reports fur-
nished chiefly through the Weather Bureau from
nearly 2,000 stations) data from which he platted
upon a map of the United States the curves of
mean annual rainfall, at intervals of ten inches,
sketched in accordance with their indications, and
supplemented by his knowledge of the relief of
the country and its known influence upon rainfall.
From the map thus prepared the counties falling
between the diff'erent curves of mean annual rain-
fall were drawn ofif in lists. In cases where the
county was cut in parts by a curve, due weight was
given in the partition of the county to any inequal-
ity in distribution of population. The population
was then distributed by counties in accordance
with the lists. The result is shown in the table
below.
In this table the first column shows the grades,
expressed in inches of rainfall ; the second, third,
and fourth columns, the number of inhabitants
found in each grade in 1890, 1880, and 1870, assum-
ing that the total population at each of the above
periods was one hundred tliousand, or, in other
words, the percentage of the population in each of
these grades at the periods under consideration,
carrying the figures out to the thousandth of 1 per
cent ; the fifth and sixth columns show the increase
or decrease in number; the seventh, eighth, and
ninth columns show the number of inhabitants in
each one hundred thousand al>ove each grade, and
therefore are cumulative columns ; the tenth, elev-
enth, and twelfth columns show the density of pop-
ulation in each grade in 18110, 1880, and 1870, and
the last two columns show the increase in popula-
tion per square mile.
It will be noticed that the main body of the pop-
ulation of the country inhabits the region in which
the annual rainfall is between 30 and 50 inches,
three-fourths of the inhabitants or thereabouts
being found there. On eitlier side, as the rainfall
increases or diminishes, the population diminishes
rapidly. It will be seen further that the arid
region of the west, where the rainfall is less than
20 inches— a region which comprises two-fifths of
the entire area of the country — contains at present
less than 3 per cent of the population.
The greatest density of population is in the area
enjoying from 40 to 50 inches of annual rainfall,
the average of this region being 59 inhabitants to
the square mile. Next to that is tlie area having
from 30 to 40 inches, where the density is 43.1. The
density of population has increased rapidly in
these regions. It is apparent, however, that the
most rapid increase, as expressed by density of
population, is where the rainfall ranges from 20 to
30 inches; that is in the eastern portion of the
Great Plains ranging from Texas to the Dakotas,
where the density has increased in twenty years
from 1.6 to 8.1.
The average annual rainfall upon the surface of
the United States, as deduced from the map pre-
viously mentioned, is 29.6 inches. The average
annual rainfall with relation to the population,
deduced by giving weight to each area of country
in proportion to the number of its inhabitants, was,
in 1870, 42.5 inches; in 1880 it had diminished to 42
inches, and in 1890 to 41.4 inches, the diminution
being caused mainly by the settlement of the
Great Plains and the arid regions of the west.
Distribution of Population in Accordance With
Mean Relative Humidity of Atmosphere.
On the coast of Oregon and Washington, the
atmosphere is more highly charged with moisture
than elsewhere within our territory. The high
mountain regions of the Appalachian and to a con-
siderable extent those of the Rocky mountain
ranges also have a moist atmosphere. The moist-
ure is less in the Piedmont region east of the
Appalachians and in the upper Mississippi valley.
Passing across the prairie and the great plains, the
amount of moisture in the atmosphere diminishes
still more, while the minimum is reached in the
Great Basin, in Utah, Nevada, southern Arizona,
and southeastern California. In a general way,
the amount of moisture in tlie atmosphere in-
creases and decreases witli the rainfall, but this is
not always the case. The upper lake region, with
an atmosphere as moist as that of Washington
city, has a much smaller rainfall. The coast of
Inches of Rain-
fall.
Number in 100,000
Inhabitauts.
Change In Num-
ber in 100,000
Inhabitants.
Number in lOO.nOO Above
Kach Grade.
Population per
square mile.
Increase in
Population per
square mile.
1890.
1880.
1870.
1880-'90.
1870- '80.
1890.
1880.
1870.
1890.
1880.
1870.
1880-'90.
1870.'60.
Below 10
10 to 20
300
2,612
6,0.38
34,107
39,459
16,164
1,274
55
278
l,:i85
4,343
34,969
40,984
16,734
1,271
192
9)9
1,909
36,644
42,719
16,212
1,358
17
+22
+1.227
+1,695
-862
—1,525
-570
+3
—30
+86
+486
+2,434
—1,673
—1,735
+.532
—87
+ 18
300
2,910
8,948
43,050
82,515
98,679
99,952
100,000
278
1,603
6.006
10,975
81,959
98,693
99,965
100,000
192
1.142
3,050
39,695
82,414
98,626
99,979
100,000
O.K
1.8
8.1
43.1
59.0
25.1
18.1
4.1
0.6
0.8
4.7
35.5
49.2
20.9
14.5
2.1
0.3
0.4
1.6
28.6
39.4
15.5
11.9
0.8
0.2
1.0
3.4
7.6
9.8
4.2
3.6
2.0
0.3
0 4
ao to 30
3 i
30 to 40
40 t3 SO
6.9
9 8
SO to 60
5 4
60 to 70 *
Above 70
2.6
l.S
UNITED STATES OF AMERICA
1569
Bouthern California, with a deficient rainfall, has
as moist an atmosphere as the Atlantic coast.
In the following table the first column defines
tiie classes of population grouped by percentages
•f saturation of the atmospnere in the sections in
which the people reside ; the second gives the num-
ber of inhabitants in each class expressed in round
thousands; the third, the percentage of increase
during the last decade; the fourth, the percentage
of total population ; the fifth, the density of popu-
lation, or the population per square mile in each
•lass.
Pop.
in Class.
Percent.
Per Cent, of
Class.
of
Total
Density.
Increase.
Population.
Below 60...
2309,000
341.10
0.49
1.14
» to 55
433,000
114.36
0.69
1.44
55 to 60
291,000
117.16
0.46
1.35
«0 to 65
868,000
97.72
1.39
2.89
Kto 70
22,969.000
19.14
36.68
31.46
»to 75
34,067,000
24.28
54.40
40.07
7S to 80
3,341.000
39.03
5.34
14.21
Above 80. . .
344,000
72.00
0.55
5.55
A glance at this table shows that nearly all the
population breathe an atmosphere containing 65
to 75 percent, of its full capacity of moisture;
that is, the atmosphere is from two-thirds to three-
fourths saturated. In 1890, 57,036,000 out of 62,-
622,250 were found in this region. The number of
inhabitants living in a drier atmosphere was at the
date of the census comparatively trifling, number-
ing in 1890 less than two millions. In the moister
atmosphere were found larger numbers scattered
along the Gulf coast and the shores of Washington
and Oregon.
Distribution op Population in Respect of L.\ti-
TUDE AND Longitude.
The following diagrams show the distribution of
population of the United States with respect of
latitude and longitude at the dates severally of
the last three censuses. They were prepared for
the report of the census of 1890 by Henry Gan-
nett, Geographer and Special Agent of the Census
Department.
Naturally the greater density of population in a
square degree is governed by the location of the
larger cities. Thus the two square degrees be-
tween latitudes 40° and 41° and longitudes 73° and
75°, comprising New York, Brooklyn, Jersey City,
and other large cities, contain 3,653,000 inhabit-
ants. The square degree between latitudes 42°
and 43° and longitudes 71° and 72°, comprising
Boston and its suburbs, has 1,233,000 inhabitants;
^ J ■,
« « ••
'X -^ K
Degrees of lahUxfe
\ % h
•r ■* r-i
% I, % 14 •;*, ft T^ S. ^ S ^ r, * Vi ■
1
4v-
t It '
.7 /rt
# 1
r |- %.
f; ■■\
:"~T ^'?;;;:"t:_:
F """^''S
,'?£ ■■- \ '
— fi(;gr^oiF /^puic'jc^ f09O -^^<//-^oM 1680
--^gt^rc^afeiS70
that between latitudes 39° and 40° and longitudes
75° and 76°, in which is most of Philadelphia, has
1,414,000, while that between latitudes 41° and 42°
and longitudes 87° and 88°, in which is situated
most of Chicago, contains 950,000 people.
oj rj rj CM (\
Dccjrees of / onpitude
oooo'oCooooooDo'ottooooooooo
CM
'iv.v:i'iz^''A'R'^'^^r^^^
C w O w %/ o
<;>c.lo[ol ol d J ,: J ol cl d
(JnOt'CD - ^ -•
id ol oiol o' ol o'c' d ol ol r.l ^1 r.1 ,1 „l r,l ^1 ol ^f „1 ^1^1 .1 A ol ol d o' o' O <■! tl ol ol ol
ol'ol ol.
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i;2
1570
UNITED STATES OF AMERICA
Area and Population- of Drainage Basins of the
United States.
The following table was prepared by Henry Gan-
nett, Geographer and Special Agent of the Census
Department :
Approxi-
Popula-
Drainage Basins.
mate area
in siiuare
Population
1890.
tion per
square
miles.
mile.
2,178,210
61,830
60.220.763
New Entrland coast
4,486.813
72 0
Saiut Jolm river
7,890
.5:5,381
6.8
Penobscot river
8,934
113,179
12,7
Kenueliec river
10,102
2:«,553
23,4
Merrimac river
4,804
610,594
120 8
Connecticut river
11,269
7si:,2ii;
09 4
Housatonic river
1,933
•S,l 701
i:-io 2
Middle Atlantic coast —
8:^,020
11,482,411
i:iH,3
13,366
1 0'>4 120
81 9
Delaware river
12,012
2,5111,113
213,2
Susquehanna ri^ or
27,655
l,9li5,lS4
71,1
11,479
00 1
South Atlantic coast ...
132.0111
4,24h,4i;0
;,2,2
9,084
51 2
Cape Fear ri\er
8,310
2:;9.:M9
28,8
Neuse river
5.299
210.933
40,9
Pedee river
17,098
000,277
36,1
9.237
14,096
607,ll9.s
41,3
11,402
39 2
14,109
473,907
33,6
Great Lalies
175,340
7,009,8:j9
40 0
Saint Lawrence river..
13,036
474,158
,34,8
Lalic Ontarie
12,387
1,000,068
81,3
Lake Erie . •
17,207
2.179.209
126 7
18.839
439,:593
23,3
Lake Michigan
45,876
2,607,502
64,7
Lake Superior
17,830
1.55,271
8,7
Red river
39,577
247.518
6 3
1,725,980
48,900
32,993,234
435,603
Peninsula of Florida...
8,9
Apalachicola river
18,918
699,713
37 0
Mobile river
43,4:36
1,426,049
611,:i58
32 8
Tombigbee river
18,890
32 4
Alabama river
23,820
784,099
:i2 9
Pascagoula river
8.980
129,084
14,4
8.670
175.098
20,4-10
17,960
172,056
449,718
8 4
Trinity river
25 0
59,646
41.220
512,021
183 ,.524
4i,e:«
8 6
Nueces river
18,944
2 2
San Antonio river
10,352
169,847
10,4
Rio Grande
128,792
1.56,150
1.2
Mississippi river. ......
1,240.039
27,411,522
22.1
12,794
415,406
1,807.9:«
32 5
Illinois river
29,013
04.4
Rock river . ...
9,792
632,117
2;'>9.778
54 3
Wisconsin river
12,280
21,2
Chipuewa river
8,892
141,529
15 9
Saint Croix river...
7,576
92,854
12,3
Minnesota river
16,000
327,852
20,5
Cedar river
12,492
393,021
31.5
Des Moines river —
14,052
423,128
28 9
201.720
10,980,777
1,384 ,7:«
54 5
Tennessee river —
43,897
31.5
Cumberland river. .
18.573
720,012
38 8
Kentucky river
7,425
291,022
:»,2
Green river
9,065
358.804
39,6
Licking river
3,«'>8
221,478
60.6
Kanawha river
10,690
:«4.795
20.1
Monongahela river.
7.025
495,030
65.0
Allegheny river. . .
11,437
970,809
84.9
MiiHui river
5,400
469.5'.10
87,0
Scioto river
0,480
444,124
68 5
Muskingum river..
7,740
.Ml,:i78
69 9
Wabash river
33,725
1.915.790
56 8
Big Sandy river, . . .
4,050
190.283
47,0
Missouri river
527,155
4,.'J60,.561
8.7
Big Sioux river
YeJlowstoue river. .
7,880
119,3:;7
15,1
69,083
21, .574
OS
Platte river
90,011
59,2.50
647 ](I4
7 2
Kansas river
9,S5,521
16 6
Osaae river
15,444
.508,291
.32.9
Arkansas river
18-.,671
1,771.312
9 5
Cimarron river
17,300
.55,090
3.2
Canadian river
42.710
.54.700
1.3
White river
27,925
338,:505
9.55,7.57
12 1
Red riverof Loui'ana.
89,970
10.6
Washita
19,138
.300 ,.560
18.8
Saint Frauds river. .
7,884
162.897
20.7
Drainage Basins.
Great Basin
Great Salt Lake
Humboldt river
Pacific Ocean
Colorado river
Green river
Grand river
Little Colorado river
Gila river
Sacramento river
San Joaquin river
Klamath river
Columbia river
Willamette river .
Snake river
Clark fork
Popula-
'ojtulation
tion per
1890,
square
mile.
25C,1:W
1.1
156,1,50
4 8
::;8,119
12
2,145,357
3.5
208,043
09
27,494
06
47.:^49
1 8
3,821
0 1
45,917
0 7
378,462
0 4
134,206
4 »
18,199
i.e
,393,415
18
129.782
11.1
142,091
1.4
46,067
0 7
The areas of the respective drainage basins
were determined with care, and adjusted to suit
the total area of the United States, exclusive of
Alaska.
Urban Population of the United States.
In the census reports of the United States the
urban population has been understood as that in-
cluded in cities which have each 8,000 inhabitants
and over. While this limit is now recognized as
too high (the 4,000 limit being generally regarded
as tlie better one), it has been continued for the
convenience of comparisons with the figures of the
previous census reports.
The urban population returned in 1890 is 29.12
per cent, of the total population of the whole
country. The following are the corresponding fig-
ures for the several censuses :
Census Years.
Population
of the
United States.
Population
of cities.
Inhabitants of
cities in each
100 of the totaJ
population.
1790
8,929,214
131,472
8.35
1800
6,808,483
210,873
S.97
1810
7,239,881
356,920
4.93
1820
9,083,822
475,135
4.93
1830
12,806,020
864 ,,509
6.72
1840
17,009,453
1,453,994
8.52
1850 ,
23,191.876
2,Si»7,586
12,49
1800
31,443,321
6,072,256
16.13
1870
38,.558,.S71
8,071,875
30.93
1880
50.1.55,783
11,318,547
22.57
1890
62,622,250
18,235,670
29.12
It will be seen that the proportion of urban pop-
ulation has increased gradually during the past
century from 3.35 up to 29.12 per cent, or from one-
thirtieth up to nearly one-third of the total popula-
tion. The increase had been quite regular from
the beginning up to 1880, while from 1880 to 1890
it made a leap from 22.57 up to 29.12 per cent, thus
illustrating in a forcible manner the accelerated
tendency of our population toward urban life. The
number of cities having each a population of more
than 8,000 increased from 6 in 1790 to 286 in 1880,
whence it leaped to 443 in 1890.
In 1870 there were only 14 cities reporting each a
population of 100,000 or over; in 1880 there were
20; and in 1890 tlie number had increased to 28.
In 1880 New York was the only city whose popu-
lation had reached a million ; now there are three,
namely : New York, Chicago, and Philadelphia.
The list and relative rank of the cities having each
a poi)ulation of 100,000 in the census years of 1870,
1880, and l.SdO are shown as follows:
I
UNITED STATES OF AMERICA
1571
Rauk
1S90.
1880.
1S70.
,
New York. N. Y.
New York.N.Y.
New Y'ork, N Y.
2
Chicago, III.
Philadelp'a.Pi.
Philadelp'a, Pa.
3
l"hiladelpliia. Pa.
Brooklyn, N. Y.
Brooklyn, N. Y.
4
Brooklyn. X.Y.
Chicago. 111.
St. Louis. Mo.
5
Saint Louis. Mo.
Boston. Mass.
Chicago. 111.
6
Boston, Mass.
St. Louis. Mo,
Baltimore, Md.
Baltimore, Md.
Baltimore, Md.
Boston, Mass.
«
Sau Francisco.Cal.
Ciuciuuati, O.
Cincinnati. O
9
Cincinnati, Ohio.
San Franc. ,Cal.
N. Orleans. La.
10
Cleveland, Ohio.
N. Orleans. La.
S. Francisco.Cal.
11
Buffalo, N. Y'.
Cleveland. 0.
Buffalo, N. Y.
12
New Orleans, La.
Pittsburg, I'n.
Washington.D.C
13
Pittsburg. Pa.
Buffalo. N.Y.
Newark, N. J.
14
Washington. D. C.
Wash'gton.D.C.
Louisville, Ky.
15
Detroit, Mich.
Newark, N. J.
16
Milwaukee, Wis.
Louisville, Kv.
17
Newark, N.J.
JerseyCitv.N.J.
18
Minneapolis, Minn.
Jersey Citv, N. J.
Detroit, Mich.
19
Milw'kee, Wis.
»
Louisville, Ky.
Providence. K.I,
21
Omaha, Neb.
22
Rochester, N. Y.
23
Saint PauI.Miuu.
•a
Kansas Citv, Mo.
25
Providence, R. I.
38
Denver, Colo.
27
Indianapolis, Ind.
28
Alleghany City.Pa.
Cities Hud Towns.
List of Cities Having Each, in 1890, a Pohul.\tiox
of 8,000 or ovek.
Cities and Towns.
Adams, Mass
Adrian, Mich
Akrou.Ohio
Alameda, Cal
Albany, N.Y'
Alexandria, Va
Allegheny, Pa..
.Allentown, Pa
Alpena, Mich
Alton, 111
Altoona. Pa
Amesbury, Mass
Amsterdam, N. Y. ..
Anderson, Ind
Ann Arbor, Mich ...
Anniston, Ala
Appleton. Wis
Arkansas City, Kaus
Asheville, N. C
Ashland, Wis
Ashtabula, Ohio
Atchison. Kaus
Athens, Ga
Atlanta, Ga
Atlantic, City, N. J.
-Auburn, Me
Auburn, N. Y
Augn.sta, Ga
Augusta, Me
Aurora, 111
Austin, Tex
Baltimore, Md
Bangor, Me
Bath. Me
Baton Rouge, La. - .
Battle Creek, Mich...
Bay City. Mich
Bayonue, N. J
Beatrice, Neb
Beaver Falls, Pa
Bellaire, Ohio
Belleville, 111
Beverly, Mass
Biddeford, Me
Binghampton, N. Y..
Population.
9,213
8,756
27,601
11,165
91,923
14,3:»
105,287
25,228
11,283
10,291
30,337
9,798
17,336
10,741
9.431
9,876
11,869
8,347
10,335
9,950
8,338
13,963
8,639
65,533
13,055
11,250
25.858
S^,.S0O
10.527
19,688
14,476
434,4:;9
19,103
8,723
10,478
13,197
27,8:J9
19,033
13,836
9,735
9,934
15,861
10,821
14,443
35,005
5,591
7,849
16,512
5,708
90,758
13,659
78,682
18,063
6,15:5
8,975
19,710
3,355
9,466
4,126
8,061
942
8,005
1,012
2,616
Increase.
Numb'r.
4,445
15.105
6,099
37,409
5,477
9,555
21,924
21,891
8,665
11,873
11,013
332.313
16,856
7,874
7,197
7,063
20,093
9,372
2,447
5,104
8,025
10,683
8,456
12,651
17,317
3,622
907
11,089
5,457
4,165
080
26,605
7,165
5,130
1,319
10.027
0.443
7,870
6,615
1,370
8,934
3,864
7,335
7,619
Per
Cent.
3,893
1 ,142
2,540
28,124
7,578
1,095
3.934
11,409
1362
7,815
3,463
102,126
2,247
849
3,281
6,1.34
7,146
9,661
11,389
4,631
1,909
4.678
2,365
1.792
17.688
64.78
11.56
67.16
95 60
4.59
4.98
33.81
39.67
83.37
14.70
53.92
192.04
83.14
160.32
17.00
948,41
48.27
724.80
291.25
87.58
7.56
41.65
75.18
138.36
17.74
17.94
52.12
21.49
65.82
31.44
30.73
13.33
10.78
45.59
86.85
34.53
103.08
465.43
90.73
23.79
43.79
27.97
14.16
102.14
Birmingham, Ala.
Bloomington, 111 .
Boston, Mass
Braddock, Pa
Bradford, Pa
Bridgeport, Conn,
Bridgeton, N. J ., , ,
Brockton, Mass.,,,
Brookhne, Mass. , ,
Brooklyn, N. Y .. .
Brunswick, Ga
Buffalo, N. Y
Burlington, Iowa,
Burlington, N. J.,
Burlington, Vt
Butler, Pa
Butte, Mont
Cairo, III
Cambridge, Mass.,
Camden, N. J
Canton, Ohio
Carbondalc, Pa
Cedar Rapids, Iowa.,
Charleston. S. C
Charlotte, N. 0
Chattanooga, Tenn .,
Chicago. Ill, ,.
Chicopee. Mass
Chillicothe, Ohio
Chippewa Falls, Wis,
Chelsea, Mass ■ ■
Chester, Pa
Cheyenne, Wyo.,
Cincinnati. Ohio,
Cleveland, Ohio,.
Population.
Clinton, Iowa
Clinton, Mass
Cohoes. N. Y
Colorado Springs. Col
Columbia, Pa
Columbia, S. C. ,
Columbus, Ga , .
Columbus, Ohio..
Concord, N. H...
Corning, N. Y
Council Bluffs, Iowa,
Covington, Ky
Cranston, R. I
Cumberland, Md
Cumberland, R. I
Dallas, Tex
Danbury, Conn
Danville, 111
Danville, Va
Davenport, Iowa
Dayton, Ohio
Decatur, 111, , . , ,
Delaware. Ohio
Denison, Tex
Denver, Colo
Des Moines, Iowa
Detroit, Mich
Dover, N. H
Dubuque. Iowa
Duluth, Minn
Dunkirk, N. Y
Dunmore, Pa
East Liverpool, Ohio,
Easton, Pa
East Portland, Ore
East Providence. K. I
East St. Louis, 111
Eau Claire, Wis
Elgiu, 111
Elizabeth City, N. J.
Elkhart, Ind
26,178
20,048
448,477
8. .561
10,514
48,266
11.424
27,294
12,103
806,343
8,459
255,664
22,565
8,222
14,590
8,734
10,723
10.324
70.028
58,313
26,189
10,8:«
18,020
.'V4,955
11,557
29.100
1,099,850
14, aw
11,288
8,670
27,909
20,226
11.690
296,908
261,353
13,619
10,424
22,509
11,140
10,599
15,353
17,303
90,398
17,004
8,550
21,474
37,371
8.099
12,729
8,090
38,067
16,552
11,491
10,305
26,872
61.220
16,841
8,224
10,958
106,713
50.093
205.876
12,790
30,311
33,115
9,116
8,315
10,956
14,481
10,532
8,422
15,169
17,415
17,823
,37,764
11,:;60
1880.
3,086
17,180
362,839
3,310
9,197
27.C4S
8,722
13,008
8,057
566,663
2.891
155.134
19.450
9.0iK)
11,005
3,163
3,363
9,011
52,669
41,059
12,258
7,714
10.104
49.984
7.094
12,892
503.185
11,286
10,938
3,982
21,782
14,997
3,456
2!)5,lo'9
160,146
9,052
8,029
19,416
4.226
8,312
10,036
10,123
51,647
13343
4,802
18,063
29,720
5,940
10,693
6,445
10,368
11,066
7,733
7.526
21.831
38.678
9.547
6,894
3,975
85,629
22,408
116,340
11,687
22,254
3,483
7,248
5.151
5,568
11.924
2,934
5.0.56
9.1 S3
10,119
8,7.S7
28,22!l
6.933
Increase.
Numb'r
85,6.38
5.251
1.317
21,223
2,702
13,686
4,046
239.680
5368
100330
3,115
2,132
3,225
5371
7. 360
1.313
17,359
16,651
13,931
3,119
7.916
4,971
4,463
16,208
596,665
2,764
350
4,688
6,127
5,229
8,234
41,769
101,207
4367
2,395
3,093
6,914
2^88
5,317
7,180
38.743
3.161
3.748
3.411
7.651
2.169
2,036
1.645
27.709
4,886
3,758
2,779
5.041
22.542
7.294
1330
6,983
71,084
27,685
89,536
1,103
8.057
29,632
2,168
3,164
5388
2357
7,598
3,366
5 984
7,296
9,0.36
9,535
4.407
Per
Cent.
748.28
16.60
23.60
168.64
14.32
76.78
30.98
100.57
50.22
42,30
192.60
64.80
16.02
35.01
28.38
176.13
218.85
14.57
.32.96
113.65
40.43
78.:i5
9.95
62.91
125.72
118.58
24.49
3.20
117.73
28.13
34.87
238.25
16.87
63.90
50.46
29.8?
15.93
163.61
27.51
,12.98
70.93
71.68
22.83
78.05
18.88
25.74
36.35
19.04
25.52
267.61
41.88
48.60
36.93
23.09
58.28
76.40
19.29
175.67
199.51
123.55
76.%
9.44
36.80
850.76
29.91
61.42
96.T7
21.44
258.%
lW.57
65.15
72.10
102.83
33.78
1672
UNITED STATES OF AMERICA
Cities and Towns
Elmira, N. Y
El Paso, Tex
Brie, Pa
Kvansville, Ind
Everett, Mass
Fall River, Mass. . ..
Findlay, Ohio
FitcUburg, Mass
Flint, Mich
Flusliing, N. Y
Fond du Lac, M^is. . . .
Fort ScoU. Kan
Fort Smith, Ark
Fort Wayne, Ind
Port Worth, Tex
Framiupham, Mass..
Fredericli, Md
Freeport, 111
Fresno, Cal
Galesburg, 111
Galveston, Tex
(iardner. Mass
Gloucester, Mass
Gloversville, N. Y ...
Grand Rapids, Mich.
Green Bav,A\'is
Greeueviile, s. C
(.ireenwich, Conn.
Hagerstown, Md.. .
Hamilton, Ohio
Hannibal, Mo
Harrisbiirg, Pa
Harrison, N. J
Hartford, Conn
Hastings, Neb
Haverhill, Mass
Hazleton, Pa
Helena, Mont
Henderson, Ky
Hoboken, N.J
Holyoke, Mass
Hornellaville, N. Y...
Hot Springs, Ark
Houston, Tex
Hudson, N. Y'
Huntington, W. Va . .
Hutchinson. Kans . .
Hyde Park, Mass —
Indianapolis, Ind —
Population.
1S90.
Irouton.Ohio
Iron Mountain, Mich
Ishpeming, Mich
Ithaca, N. Y'
Jackson, Mich
Jackson, Tenn —
Jacksonville. Fla
Jacksonville. Ill .
Jamestown. N, Y ,
Jaraesville, Wis .
Jeffersonville. Ind
Jersey City. N. J., .
Johnston, R. I . . .
Jolinstowu, Pa, .
Joliet, 111
.loplin. Mo
Kalamazoo, Mich.
Kankakee, 111
Kansas City. Kans
Kansas City, Mo.. .
Kearney, Neb
Keokuk, Iowa
Key West, Fla
Kingston. N. Y'....
Knoxville, Tenu.. .
Kokomo, Ind
La Crosse, Wis,...
29,70S
10,.S88
40,6:M
50,756
11,068
74,398
18,553
22,037
9,803
10,868
12,024
11,946
11,311
35,393
23,076
9,289
8,193
10,189
10,818
15,264
29,084
8,424
24,651
13,864
60,278
9.069
8.607
10,131
10,118
17,.'J65
12,857
40,164
8,338
53,230
13.584
27,412
11.872
13,834
8,835
43,648
.35,637
10.996
8,086
27,557
9,970
10,108
8,682
10,193
105,436
10,939
8,.599
11,197
11,079
20,798
20,039
17,201
10,740
16,038
10,836
10,666
163,003
9,778
21,805
23,264
9,943
17,853
9,025
38.316
nl.32,716
8,074
14,101
18,080
21,261
22,536
8,261
25,090
20,541
736
27,737
29,280
4,159
48,961
4,633
12,429
8,409
n6.683
13,094
5,372
3,099
26,880
6,663
6,235
8,659
8,516
1,112
11,437
22,248
4,988
19,329
7,133
32,016
7,464
6.160
7,892
6,027
12,122
11,074
30,762
6,898
42,015
2,817
18,472
0,935
3,624
5,365
30,999
21,915
8,195
3,554
16,513
8,670
3.174
1.540
7.088
75,056
8,857
((■)
6,039
9,105
16,105
5,377
7,6.50
10,927
9,1357
9,018
9.357
120,722
5,765
8,380
11,657
7,038
1 1 ,937
5,651
3,200
55,785
1.782
12,117
9,890
18,344
9,693
4,042
14,605
Numb'r.
9,167
9,K02
12,897
21,476
6,909
25,437
13,920
9,608
1,394
4,185
ftl,070
6,574
8,212
8,513
16,413
3,004
h466
1,678
9,706
3,827
6,836
3,436
5,322
6,731
28,202
1,605
2.447
2.239
3,491
5,443
1,783
9,402
1,440
11,215
10,767
8,940
4.937
10.210
3,470
13,649
13,722
2,801
4,582
11,044
1,300
6,934
7,142
3,105
30,880
2,082
5,158
1,974
4.693
4,662
9„551
hlSJ
6.681
1,818
1,309
42,281
4,013
13,425
11,607
2,905
6,916
3,374
;W,116
76,931
6,292
1,984
8,190
2,917
12,842
4,219
10,585
Cent.
44.63
1,304.62
46.50
73.35
166.12
51.95
300.45
77.30
16.58
62.62
M.17
122.38
264.99
31.67
246.33
48.18
^5.38
19.65
872.84
33.40
30.73
68.89
27.58
94.36
88.27
21.50
39.72
28.37
52.68
44.90
16.10
29.05
20.88
26.69
.382 22
49.40
81.19
281.73
64.68
40.80
62.61
.34.18
127.52
66.88
14.99
218.46
463.77
43.81
40.48
23.51
85.41
21.68
29.14
86 70
124.85
M.71
71.40
20.16
13.99
3").02
69,61
160.20
99.57
41.28
49.56
.'■)9.71
1,079.38
137.91
:153.09
16.37
82.81
15.90
132.49
104.38
72.97
Cities and Towns.
Lafayette, lud...
Lancaster. Pa
Lansing, Mich
Lansiugburg, N. Y...
Laredo, Tex
La Salle, 111
Lawrence, Kans
Lawrence, Mass
Leadville, Colo
Leavenworth, Kan.
Lebanon, Pa
Lewiston, Me
Lexington. Ky
Lima, Ohio .
Lincoln, Neb
Lincoln, R. I
Little Falls, N. Y ....
Little Rock, Ark
Lockport, N. Y
Logansport. Ind
Loiig Island City. N.Y
Los Angeles, Cal
Louisville, Ky
Lowell, Mass
Lynchburg, Va
Lynn, Mass
McKeesport, Pa
Macou, lowtt
Madison, Ind
Madison, Wis
Mahanoy, Pa
Maiden, Mass
Manchester, Conn.. . .
Manchester, N. H , . . .
Manchester. Va
Manistee, Mich
Maukato, Minn
Mansfield, Ohio
Marblehead, Mass.. . .
Marietta. Ohio
Marinette, Wis
Marion, Ind
Marion, Ohio
Marlborough, Mass. . .
Marquette, Mich
Marshalltown, Iowa..
Massillon, Ohio
Meadville, I'a
Medford, Mass.
Melrose. Mass
Memphis, Tenu
Menominee, Mich .. . .
Meriden. Conn
Meridian. Miss
Michigan City, Ind. . .
Middletown, Conn. . .
Middletown, N. Y ...
Milford. Mass
Millville, N.J
Milwaukee, Wis
Minneapolis, Minn.
Moberly, Mo
Mobile," Ala
Population
1890.
1880.
Increase.
Numb'r.
Moline. Ill
Montgomery, Ala.. . .
Mount Carmel, 111.
Mount Vernou, N.Y.
Muncie, Ind
Muscatine, Iowa .
Muskegon, Mich .
Nanticoke, Pa —
Nashua, N. H . ..
Nashville, Teun
Notches, Miss
Natick, Mass
Nebraska City, Neb..
16,243
32,01!
13,102
10,550
11,319
9,855
9,997
44,654
11,212
19,708
14,664
21,701
21,567
15,987
55-1.54
20,365
8,7&3
26,874
16,038
13,328
30,506
60,395
161,129
77,690
19,709
55,727
20,741
22.746
8,937
13,426
11,286
23,031
8,222
44,126
9,246
12,812
■ 8,838
13,473
8,202
8.273
11,623
8,769
8,327
13,805
9,093
8,914
10,092
9,520
11,079
8,619
64,495
10,630
21,662
10,264
10,776
9,013
11,977
8.780
10,002
204,468
164,738
8,215
31,076
12,000
21.S.S3
8,2,54
10,677
11,:145
11,4,54
22,702
10,044
19.311
761.68
10.100
9.118
11,494
14,860
25.769
8,319
7,4.32
3,521
7,847
8,510
39,151
14, .820
16,646
8,778
19,083
16,656
7,567
13,003
13,766
6,910
13,138
13,622
11,198
17,129
11,183
123,758
59,476
15,969
28,274
8,212
12,749
8,945
10,324
7,181
12,017
6,462
.32,630
5,729
6,9.30
5.550
9,869
7,467
5,444
2,750
3,182
3,899
10,127
4,690
6,240
6,836
8,860
7,573
4,560
33,592
.3,288
15,540
4,008
7,366
6,826
8,494
9,310
7,660
116,587
46,887
6,070
29,132
7,800
16,713
2, .378
4,586
5,219
8,295
11,262
3,884
13,397
43,350
7,0,58
8479
1,183
1,383
6,242
4,783
3,118
7,798
2,008
1,487
5,503
V3,608
3,222
5,886
2,618
4,911
8,420
42,151
6,590
1,873
12,736
2,516
2,130
13.377
39,212
37,371
18,221
3,750
17,463
12,529
9,997
3,102
4,105
11.014
1,760
11,496
3.517
5.882
3,288
3,614
735
2,829
8,773
5,587
4,428
3,687
4,403
2,674
3,266
660
3,506
3,9.59
30,903
7,342
6,112
6,616
3,410
2,187
3,488
n630
2,342
88,881
n7,.S51
2,145
1,944
4,200
5,170
5,876
6,091
6,126
3,169
11,440
6,160
5,914
32,818
3,043
639
7,S11
Per
Cent.
9.SI
24.22
57.49
41.95
221.47
25.59
17.47
14.06
fc24.86
19.47
67.05
13.72
29.48
111.27
3M.16
47.88-
27.11
96.94
18.61
19.02
78.10
360.64
30.20
30.64
23.60
45.60
152,57
78.41
60.09
30.05
57.16
91.65
27.24
35.23
61.39
84.88
59.24
36.06
9.84
51.97
319.02
175.58
113.57
36.i»
93.88
42.85
47.63
7.45
46.30
86.82
92.00
223.30
39.33
165.07
46.29
32.04
41.01
06.69
30.57
76.90
251.35
35.34
6.67
63.85
80.9S
247.10
1.32.88
117.38
38.08
101.,58
168.60
44.14
75.70
43.11
7.54
174.7*
Estimated, b Decrease, r No population for 1880.
(1 lucludes 13,048 outside the limits of Kansas City.
UNITED STATES OF AMERICA
1573
t'itits and Towns.
Population.
Kew Albany, Ind.
Kewark, N. J
Newark, Ohio
Kew Bedford, Mass.
New Brighton, N. Y...
Kew Britain, Conn. (6)
New Brunswick, N, J
Jfewburg, X. Y
Newburyport, Mass.
Newcastle, Pa
New Haven, Conn...
New London, Conn
New Orleans, La
Newport, Ky
Mewport, R. I
New Rochelle, N.Y.
Newton, Mass
New York, X. Y
Norfolk, Va
Norristowu, Pa
North Adams, Mass.
Northampton, Mass
Norwalk, Conn
Norwich, Conn
Oakland, Cal
Ogden, Utah
Ogdensburg, N. Y...
Oil City, Pa
Omaha, Neb
Orange, N, J
Oshkosh, Wis
Oswego, N. Y
Ottawa City, 111
Ottumwa, Iowa
Owensborough, Ky. .
Paducah. Ky
Paris, Texas
Parkersburg, W. Va.
Passaic, N. .1.
Pater.'ion. N. J
Pawtueket, R. I
Peabody, Mass
Peekskill, N. Y
Pensacola, Fla
Peoria, 111
Perth Amboy, N. J..
Petersburg, Va
Philadelphia, Pa . .
Phillipsburg. N. J...
Ph(jenisville, Pa
PineBluft.Ark
Piqua. Ohio
Pittsburg, Pa
Pittsfield, Mass
Pittston,Pa
Plainfield, N. J
Plattsmouth, Neb ...
Plymouth, Pa
Port Huron, Mich . .
Port Jervis, N. Y'
Portland, Me
Portland, Ore
Portsmouth, N. H . .
Portsmouth. Ohio ..
Portsmouth, Va
Pottstown, Pa
Pottsville, Pa
Poughkeepsie, N. Y.
Providence, R. I. .
Pueblo, Colo
Quincy, 111
Quincy, Mass
Racine, Wis
Raleigh, N.C
Readiug, Pa
Richmond, Ind ...
Richmond. Va
21,059
181,830
14,270
40.733
]G,423
19,007
18,603
23,087
13,9-17
11,600
81,298
13,757
242.039
2»,91S
19,457
8318
84 379
1,51.5,301
34,h71
19,791
16,074
14,990
17,747
16.156
48,6X2
14,119
11,662
10.932
140.452
11.144
22,136
21,142
9,985
14,001
9.8:?7
13,076
8,254
8,408
13,028
78,347
27.633
10,058
9,676
11,750
41.024
9,512
22,680
1,046,964
8,644
8,514
9,952
9,090
238,617
17,281
10,302
11,267
8,392
9,344
13,.543
9,327
36,425
46,385
9,827
12,394
13,268
13,285
14,117
22,206
132,146
24,558
31,494
16,723
21,014
12,678
58,661
16,608
81,388
1880.
16,423
136 ,.508
9,600
26Jvi5
12,679
11,800
17,166
18,049
1S,5SS
,«<,418
62,882
10,567
216.090
20.433
15.693
5,276
16,995
1,206,299
21.966
13,063
10,191
12,172
13,956
15.112
34.555
6,069
10,341
7.315
30,518
13,207
15,748
21,116
7,834
9,004
6,231
8,036
3,980
6,582
6,532
51,031
19,0.30
9,028
6.893
6,845
29,259
4,808
21,656
847,170
7,181
6,682
3,203
6,031
156 ,.389
13,364
7,472
8,125
4,175
6,065
8,883
8,678
33,8i0
17,577
9,690
11,321
11,390
5,305
13,253
20,207
104,8.57
3,217
27,268
10,570
16,031
9,265
43,278
12,742
63,600
Increase.
Numb'r.
4,636
45322
4,670
13,S,SS
3,744
7,207
1,437
5,038
409
3,182
18,416
3,220
25,949
4.4h5
3,764
3,042
7,384
309,002
12,905
6,728
6,883
2,818
3,791
1,044
14,127
8,820
1,321
3,617
109,934
5,637
7,088
726
2,151
4,297
3,606
5,040
4,274
1,826
6,496
27,316
8,603
1,130
2,783
4,905
11,765
4,704
1,024
199,794
1,463
1,832
6,749
3,059
82,228
3,917
2,830
3,142
4,217
3,279
4,660
649
2,615
Cities and Towns.
Per
Cent,
1,37
1,073
1,878
7,980
864
1,999
27,289
21,341
4,226
6.153
4,983
3,413
15,383
3,866
17,788
28.23
33.20
48.65
51.73
29.53
61.08
8.47
27.91
3.02
37.80
29.29
30.56
12.01
21.95
23.99
57.66
43.45
25.62
58.75
51.50
57.73
23.15
27.16
6.91
.40.88
145.33
12.77
49.45
360.23
42.08
45.01
3.44
27.46
55.50
57,87
62.72
107.39
27.74
99.45
53.53
45.21
12.52
40.37
71.66
40.21
97.84
4.73
23.58
20.37
27.42
210.71
50.72
52.58
29.31
37.87
38.67
101.01
54.06
62.46
7.48
7.73
163.90
1.41
9.48
16.49
150.42
6.52
9.89
26,02
663.38
15.50
58.21
31.08
36.84
.35 54
30.34
27.97
Roanoke, Va
Rochester, N. Y
Rockford, 111
Rock Island, 111.
Rockland, Mo
Rome, N. Y
Rutland, Vt
Sacramento, Cal
Saginaw, Mich
Saint Joseph, Mo
Saint Louis, Mo
Saint Paul. Minn
.Salem. Mass
Salt Lake City, Utah.
San Antonio, Tex
San Diego, Cal
Sandusky, Ohio
San Francisco, Cal. . .
San Jos^,Cal
SaratogaSprings,N. Y
Savannah, Ga
Schenectady, N.Y...
Scran ton. Pa
Seattle, Wash
Sedalia, Mo
Shamokin, Pa
Sheboygan, Wis
Shenandoah, Pa
Shreveport. La
Sing Sing, N, Y
Sioux City, Iowa
Sioux Falls, S. Dak ..
Somerville. Mass ....
South Bend, Ind
South Bethlehem, Pa
South Omaha, Neb. . .
Spencer, Mass
Spokane Falls, Wash. .
Springfield, 111
Springfield, Mass
Sprinfield,Mo
Springfield, Ohio
Stamford, Conn
Steelton, Pa
Steubenville, Ohio. . . .
Stillwater, Minn
Stockton, Cal
Streator.Ill
Superior, Wis
Syracuse, N. Y
Tacoma, Wash
Taunton, Mass
Terre Haute, Ind
Tiffin, Ohio
Titusville,Pa
Toledo, Ohio
Topeka, Kans
Trenton, N. J
Troy, N. Y
Union, N.J
Utica.N.Y
Vernon, Conn
Vicksburg, Miss
Vincennes, Ind
Waco, Texas
Waltham, Mass
W'arwick, R. I
Washington. D. C
Waterbury, Conn
Water town, N. Y
Watertown, Wis
Wausau, Wis
West Bay City, Mich..
West Chester, Pa
Westfield,Mass
West Troy, N. Y
Wevmouth, Mass
I'opulation.
16,1.59
133,896
23,584
13,634
8,174
14,991
11,760
26,386
46,322
52,324
451,770
133,156
30,801
44,843
37,673
16,159
18,471
298,997
18,060
11,975
43,189
19,902
75,215
42,837
14,068
14,103
]B.:>59
15,944
11,979
9,352
37,806
10,177
40,152
21,819
10,302
8,062
8,747
19,922
24,963
44,179
21,850
31,895
15,700
9,250
13,394
11,200
14,424
11,414
11.983
88,143
36.006
25,448
30,217
10,801
8,073
81,431
31,007
57,458
60,95<;
10,643
44,007
8,808
13,373
8,853
14,445
18,707
17.761
230.392
28,646
14,725
8,755
9,2.53
12,981
8,028
9,805
12,967
10,866
1880.
(rl
89,366
13,129
11,659
7,599
12,191
12,149
21,420
29,541
32,431
350,518
41,473
27,563
20,768
20,550
2,637
15,838
233,959
12,567
8,421
30,709
13,655
45,850
3,533
9,561
8,184
7,314
10,147
8,009
6,578
7,366
2,164
24,933
13,280
4,925
(c)
7,466
360
19,743
33,340
6,522
20,730
11,297
2,447
12,093
9,055
10,282
5,157
(<■)
51,792
1,098
21,213
26,042
7,879
9,046
50,137
15,452
29,910
56,747
5,849
33,914
6,915
11,814
7,680
7,295
11,712
12,164
177,624
17,806
10,697
7,883
4,277
6,397
7,046
7,587 I
8,820
10,570
Increase.
Number. J^^^^^
44,530
10,4f>5
1,975
575
2,797
C7389
4,966
16,781
19,893
101,2.52
91,683
3,238
24,075
17,123
13,522
2,633
65,038
5,493
3,554
12,480
6,247
29,365
39,304
4,.507
6,219
9,045
5,797
3,970
2,774
30,440
8,013
15,219
8,539
5,377
1,281
19,572
5,220
10,839
15,328
11,165
4,403
6,803
1,301
2,205
4,142
6,257
36,351
34,908
4,2.35
4,175
2,922
a973
31,297
15,555
27,548
4,209
4,794
10,093
1,893
1,559
1,173
7,150
6,995
5,597
52,768
10,840
4,028
S72
4,976
6,584
982
2,218
4,147
296
49,88
79.63
16.94
7.57
22.94
n3.20
23.18
56.81
61.34
28.89
221.07
11.75
115 92
83.32
512.78
16.62
27.80
43.71
42.20
40.64
45.75
64 05
1,112.48
47.14
75.99
123.67
57.13
49.57
42.17
413.25
370.29
61.04
64.30
109.18
17.16
8,592.00
26.44
32.51
235.02
53.86
38.97
278.01
10.76
24.35
40.28
121.33
70.19
3,179.23
19.96
16,03
37,09
alO.76
62.42
100.67
92.10
7.42
81.96
29.76
27.38
13.20
15.27
98.01
59.73
46.01
29.71
60.88
37.66
11.06
116.34
102.92
13.94
29 .28
47.02
2.80
« Decrease, c No population for 1880.
b Includes New Britain City, not separately returned.
1574
U X I T E I) .S r A T E S OF AMERICA
Cities and Towns.
Population.
Increase.
1890.
1880.
Number.
Per
Cent.
Wheelins. W. Va
Wichita, Kans
35,01.3
2.3,853
37,718
27.132
8,6W
Gl,4.31
20.056
18,208
8,018
13.499
20,830
84,C55
32,033
20,793
33,220
21,009
30,737
4,911
23,339
18,934
6,608
42,478
17,360
10,208
2,854
10,931
16,050
58,291
18,892
13,940
15,4:35
18,113
4,276
18,942
14,379
8,198
2,040
18,953
2,706
8,000
5,164
2,56«
4,780
26,364
13,141
6,8.53
17.785
2,896
13.91
385.71
"NVilkesbarre. Pa
Williamsport, Pa
Willimantic, Conn. ,.,
Wilmington, Del
Wilmington, N. C. . .
Winona, Minn
61.61
43.30
30.87
44.62
15.60
78 37
Winston, N. C
Woburn, Mass
Woonsocket, R, I
Worcester, Mass
Yonkers, N. Y
York, Pa
180.94
23.49
29.78
45.23
69..56
49.16
Youngstown, Ohio
Zanesville, Ohio
115.23
15.99
The Superintendent of the Census of 1890 in clos-
ing his special report on the urban population,
says: In defining what constitutes a city in each
case the Census Office has consistently maintained
the policy of including only such population as
lives within the charter limits, because no other
defined limits exist. In many cases, however, this
does not give to the city all the population which
naturally belongs to it. There may be populous
suburbs, which are to all intent and purposes parts
of the city, whose inhabitants transact business
within the city, who are served by the same post-
office, etc., but who, living without the charter
limits, are not included in the city's population.
Of this our greatest city. New York, is a forcible
exami)le. Within a radius of fifteen miles of the
city hall on Manhattan Island the people are in
effect citizens of New York, so far as their business
and social interests go, although politically they
live in different cities, counties and states. This
body of population, the commercial metropolis of
the country, contains a population considerably in
excess of 3,000,000, or two-thirds that of London,
which is, similarly, a congeries of municipalities.
Next to London, New York and its suburbs form
the largest city of the globe. Other cases are
those of St. Paul and Minneapolis, whose corporate
limits join one another, and Bristol, Tenn., and
Bristol, Va., two corporations whose line of
division follows the middle of the main
street of the city, and which have a joint popu-
lation of 6,229. Texarkana, Tex., and Texarkana,
Ark., is a similar case. Knoxville, Tenn., has large
suburbs immediately adjoining, whose population
would, if added, increase it to very nearly 40,000
inhabitants.
The rate of growth of many of these cities,
especially those situated west of the Mississippi
River, has been amazing. Chicago has added over
Iialf a million to her inhabitants, thus more than
doul)ling her size in ten years. Rlinneapolis, St.
Paul, Omaha, Kansas City, and Denver have ex-
panded to triple or quadruple their former size,
while all over the west smaller cities have sprung
up as if by magic.
Population and Area op Fifty Cities of the
United States by Square Miles and Acres.
In the following lists ninteen other cities would
have been included had it not been for the lack of
data not reported to the Census Pepartment in
time for use in the tabulated summaries prepared
by that department. The missing figures except for
population (for which see page 465 of these Re-
visions and Additions) were from Pittsburg, Pa.,
Jersey City, N. J., Louisville, Ky., Kansas City, Mo.,
Providence, R. I., Allegheny, Pa., Albany, N. Y.,
Columbus, 0., Richmond, Va., Paterson, N. J.,
Scranton, Pa., Atlanta, Ga., Memphis, Tenn., Wil-
mington, Del., Dayton, O., Troy, N. Y., Grand
Rapids, Mich., and Reading, Pa.
The total population of the fifty cities (as shown
in table on opposite page) in 1890 was 10,095,370.
The area in square miles, and the density of pop-
ulation are given for convenience of comparison.
Washington, District of Columbia, is considered
as a city proper; that is, it includes the area and
population inclosed within the actual municipal
boundaries, and not those of the District of Co-
lumbia.
The area of New York includes the islands in the
East River, (having an aggregate of 520 acres) be-
longing to the twelfth, ninteenth, and twenty-third
wards. There being no way to separate the popu-
lation of these islands from that of the city proper,
the area must be included in the whole.
The area given for Fall River comprises all ex-
cept portions of the 6th and 9th wards, the area of
which the city engineer reported to the Census
Agent had never been measured.
Of the fifty cities included in the foregoing tables,
twenty-two have a population of over 100,000 each
and a total of 8,737,648, or 13.95 per cent, of the total
population of the United States.
The average density of population in these
twenty-two cities is 10,190.03 to the square mile,
or 15.92 to the acre. There are, however, enormous
differences in the ratios of population to area in-
cluded in the city limits of these various cities.
This ratio, stated in round numbers as persons to
the acre, ranges from 4 in St. Paul, 5 in Minneapolis,
9 in Omaha, 10 in New Orleans and Buffalo, 11 in
Chicago and Denver, 12 in Saint Louis, to 59 in
in New York, 48 in Brooklyn, 31 in Washington,
and 30 in San Francisco. For the other larger
cities, the figures for population per acre are, in
round numbers, Baltimore, 24; Boston, 20; Cincin-
nati and Milwaukee, 19 each ; Cleveland, Detroit,
Indianapolis, and Newark, 16 each ; Nashville, 14;
Rochester and Philadelphia, 13 each.
These ratios, however, give no information as to
the difference in density of population in the
actually built-up portions, as will be seen by com-
parisons of the density figures for wards in some
of these cities. Thus, in New York City the num-
ber of persons per acre ranges from 474 in ward ten
to 3 in ward twenty-four ; in Chicago, from 116 in
ward sixteen to 2 in wards twenty-eight and thirty-
three ; in Philadelphia, from 163 in ward three to 1
in ward twenty-three ; in Brooklyn, from 198 in
ward sixteen to 6 in ward twenty-six; in Boston,
from 204 in ward eight to 3 in ward twenty-three:
in Baltimore, from 141 in ward ten to 3 in ward
twenty-two ; in Cincinnati, from 162 in ward thirteen
to 3 in ward thirty ; in Buffalo, from 60 in ward two
to 1 in wards twelve and thirteen; in New Orleans
from 56 in ward ten to 2 in ward nine ; in Milwaukee,
from 43 in ward two to 7 in wards seventeen and
eighteen ; in Newark, from 64 in ward fifteen to 4
in ward ten; in Jlinneapolis, from 38 in ward six
to 1 in ward ten ; in Saint Paul, from 42 in ward
four to 1 in wards two and ten ; in Rochester, from
59 in ward thirteen to 4 in ward fifteen.
Army- and Navy op the United States.
For the latest statistics of the Army and Navy
see those articles in these Revisions and Additions.
U i\ I T E D STATES OF AMERICA
1575
Cities.
Counties.
New York
Chicago
Philadelphia.
Brooklyn
Saint Louis. ..
Boston
Baltimore.
San Francisco
Cincinnati
Cleveland
Buffalo
New Orleans..
Detroit
Milwaukee —
Washington ...
Newark
Minneapolis...
Omaha
Rochester
Saint Paul
Denver
Indianapolis . .
Worcester
Toledo
New Haven
Lowell
Nashville
Fall River
Cambridge
Camden
Trenton
Lynn
Hartford
Evansville
Los Angeles
Lawrence
Hoboken
Dallas
Sioux City
Portland
Holyoke
Binghamption .
Duluth
Elinira
Davenport
Canton
Taunton
La Crosse
Newport
Rockford
New York, N. Y.. .
Cook. Ill
Philadelphia, Pa
Kings, N. Y
Missouri
Suffolk, Mass
Maryland
San "Francisco, Cal..
Hamilton, Ohio
Cuyahoga, Ohio
Erie, N. Y
Orleans, La
Wayne, Mich
Milwaukee, Wis —
District of Colunibi
Essex, N. J
Hennepin, Minn .
Douglas, Nebr
Monroe, N. Y
Ramsey, Minn
Arapahoe. Colo
Marion. Ind
Worcester. Mass
Lucas, Ohio
New Haven, Conn. . .
Middlesex, Mass
Davidson, Tenn
Bristol, Mass
Middlesex, Mass
Camden, N. J
Mercer, N. J
Essex, ^fass
Hartford, Conn
Vanderburg. Ind
Los Angeles, Cal
Essex, Mass
Hudson, N. J
Dallas, Texas
Woodbury. Iowa ...
Cumberland, Me....
Hampden, Ma^s
Broome. N. Y
Saint Louis, Minn..
Chemung, N. Y
Scott. Iowa
Stark, Ohio
Bristol. Mass
La Crosse, Wis
Campbell, Ky
Winnebago, 111
Population.
1.515.S01
1,0J9,S50
1,046,964
806,343
451,770
44S,477
4;M,439
298,997
296,908
261,333
255,6&4
242,039
205.S76
204.4GS
202,978
181,830
164.738
140,4.52
133,#9«
133,156
106.713
105,4.36
84,t>!)5
81,434
81,288
77,696
76,168
74,398
70,028
58,313
.57,4.58
55.727
63,230
50,756
50 ,.395
44,0.54
43,(^S
38.067
37,806
36,425
35,637
35,005
33,115
19,708
26,872
26,189
25,448
25,090
24,908
23,.58J
Area.
Square
miles.
40.22
160.57
129.39
26.46
61.35
35.28
28.38
15.4G
25.00
24.88
.39.04
37.09
20.69
17.00
10.24
17.77
51.67
24.50
15.60
51.42
15.49
10.07
34.02
19.72
17-56
11.15
8.44
10.95
.5.83
4.31
3.95
10.64
14.66
4.42
27.60
6.67
1.47
7.68
30.90
2.51
3.98
10.04
3.23
4 45
4.41
6.80
47.40
8.19
1.20
6.37
Acres.
25,740.80
102,764.80
82,809.60
16,934.40
39,264.00
22,579.211
18,163.:?0
9,894.40
16,000.00
15,923.20
24,985.60
23.737.60
13.177.60
10.880.00
6,553.60
11,372 80
,S:?,OI'.S.OO
15,680.00
9.984.00
32,908.80
9,913.60
6,444.80
21,772.80
12,620.80
4,838. iO
7.136.00
5,401.60
7,008.00
3,731.20
2,777.60
2,528.00
6,809.60
9,382.40
2,828.80
17,664.00
4,268.80
940.80
4,915.20
19.776.C0
1,606.40
2,647.20
6,425.60
2,067.20
2,848.00
2,822.40
4,352.00
30,a36.00
5,241.60
708.00
4,076.80
Population to —
Each square
mile.
Each
acre
37,675.31
.58.87
6349.66
10.70
8,091.54
12.64
30,474.04
47.62
7..S63.81 •
11.51
12.711.93
19.86
15.307.93
23.92
19,340.04
30.22
11,876.32
18.50
10,504.51
16.41
6,548.77
10.23
6,525.72
10.20
9,998.33
15.62
12,027.53
18.79
19,822.07
30.97
•10,232.41
15.99
3,188.27
4.98
5,732.73
8.9&
8.583.08
13.41
2,589.58
4.05
6,889.15
10.76
10,470.31
16.36
2,488 39
3.89
4,129.51
6.45
10,75:i.70
16.80
6,968.25
10.89
9,024.64
14.10
6,794.31
10.62
12,011.66
18.77
13,436.18
20.99
14,546.33
22.73
5,237.50
8.18
3,630.97
5.67
11,483.26
17.94
1,825.91
2.85
6,694.75
10.46
29,692.52
46.39
4,956.64
7.74
1,223.50
1.91
14,511.95
22.67
8,954.02
13.99
3,486.55
0.45
10,252 »2
16.02
6,675.96
10.43
6,093.42
9.52
3.851.32
6.02
£36,88
0.84
3,063,49
4.79
20.765.00
32.45
3,702..35
5.78
There were in 1891 ten navy yards and stations,
namely: Brooklyn, Portsmoutli, Charleston,
League Island, New London, Washington, Norfolk,
Pensacola, Mare Island, and Port Royal. Of these
Brooklyn, Portsmouth, Norfolk, Mare Island, and
Port Royal are used as construction yards. At
Washington there is a manufactory for the com-
pletion of heavy ordnances.
Conqressionaij Cemetery of the United States.
By the Act of May 12, 1876, it is provided that
"hereafter, whenever any deceased Senator or
member of the House of Representatives shall bo
actually interred in the Congressional Cemetery,
so called, it shall be the duty of the Sergeant-at-
Arms of the Senate, in the case of a Senator, and
of the Sergeant-at-Arms of the House of Repre-
sentatives, in the case of a member of the House,
to have a monument erected, of granite, with suit-
able inscriptions, and the cost of the same shall be
a charge upon and paid out either from the con-
tingent funds of the Senate or the House of Repre-
sentatives, to whichever the deceased may have
belonged, and any existing omissions of monuments
or inscriptions, as aforesaid, are hereby directed
and authorized to be supplied in like manner; and
all laws upon the subject of monuments in the
Congressional Cemetery are hereby repealed."
Seed Farms in the United States.
The production of seeds was the first time made
a subject of census inquiry in 1890. The report
prepared by J. H. Hale under the direction of M.
Whitshed, special agent in charge of the Depart-
ment of Horticulture, was made after personal
application for the statistics, of seed farm proprie-
tors and dealers throughout the United States. It
showed that there were in the L^nited States in the
census year 596 farms, with a total of 169,851 acres,
devoted exclusively to seed growing, of which
96,567J<f acres were reported as producing seeds.
Of these, 12,905 acres were devoted to beans, 1,268
to oabbage, 919 to beets, 10,219 to cucumbers, 71 to
celery, 15,004 to sweet corn, 16,322 to field corn,
1576
UNITED STATES OF AMERICA
4,663 to squashes, 7,971 to peas, 5,149 to muskmelons,
662 to radishes, and 4,356 to tomatoes. The 596
seed iarnis reported represent a total value of
farms, implements, and buildings of $18,325,935.86,
and employed in the census year 13,500 men and
1,541 women. 258 of these farms are in the North
Atlantic division, with an average of 185 acres per
farm. In the North Central division there are 157
seed farms, with an average of 555 acres per farm.
The seed farms in Iowa and Nebraska average
695 acres, several being nearly 3,000 acres in extent.
Shipping on the Gkeat Lakes.
The total number of vessels on the great lakes
of the United States, Jan. 1, 1890, was 2,744 ; total
gross tonnage 924,472 ; estimated carrying capacity,
1,254,271 tons; commercial valuation, $48,809,750.
The following table gives the classes of vessels
severally , their tonnage,and their commercial value :
Classes.
Steam Vessels.
Side-wheel passenger
Propellers carryiug both passengers
and freight
Propellers carrying freight only
Tugs
Ferry
Pleasure yachts
Pile drivers
Sand dredges
Sand boats
Fire boats
Steam lighters
Unclassified steam vessels
Sail and Unrigged Vessels.
Schooners
Lake barges
Scows »
Sloops
Yawls
No.
Ton-
nage.
67
30,270
307
143,983
433
387,095
495
25,103
41
4,707
57
2,195
15
347
4
398
1
81
7
631
4
392
58
2,964
939
186,776
301
138,404
7
996
47
1,213
1
17
Com'cial
Value.
2,815,500
10,967,900
23,320,200
2,617,300
499,500
331,700
53,500
14.000
5,000
195,000
14.000
228,000
4,240,900
3,463,500
9,000
■,i5,4.50
300
Of these vessels there were on Lake Superior 167; on Lakes
Huron and St. Clair, 726; Lake Michigan, 1,003; Lake Erie,
664; Lake Ontario, 131, and St. Lawrence River and Lake
Champlain, 92.
Nurseries in the United States.
The material from which the following summa-
ries were made were reported direct from the nur-
serymen by filling up blanks sent out from the
Census Office in 1890. The tabulations show that
there are in the United States 4,510 nurseries, val-
ued at .$41,978,835.80 and occupying 172,806 acres of
land, with an invested capital of $54,425,669.51, and
giving employment to 45,657 men, 2,279 women,
and 14,200 animals, using in tlie propagation and
cultivation of trees and plants .$990,606.04 worth of
implements. Of the acreage in nurseries 95,025.42
were found to be used in growing trees, plants,
shrubs, and vines of all ages; and the figures,
based upon the best estimate of the nurserymen,
make the grand total of plants and trees 3,386,855,-
778, of which 518,016,612 are fruit trees, 685,603,396
grapevines and small fruits, and the balance nut,
deciduous, and evergreen trees, hardy shrubs, and
roses. The largest acreage is devoted to the pro-
duction of apple trees, viz. : 20,232.75 acres, number-
ing 240,570,666 young trees, giving an average of
11,890 per acre, while the plum, pear, and peach
have, respectively, 7,826.5, 6,854.25, and 3,357 acres,
producing 88,494,367, 77,223,402, and 49,887,894
young trees, or an average of 11,307, 11,266, and
14,861 trees to the acre.
The following shows the acreage and average
number of trees or plants grown per acre, sever-
ally, and the total iilants of each kind in the
United States in 1890 :
Trees or Plants.
Apple
Apricot
Cherry
Fig
Lemon
Lime
Nectarine . .
Olive
Orange
Peach
Pear
Plum
Pomelo
Prune
Quince
Nut
Deciduous
Evergreen
Hardy shrubs
Rose
Grapevines
Strawberry
Raspberry
Blackberry
Currant
Gooseberry
Miscellaneous fruit
trees aud plants.
Number of
acres.
20,232=^
269
3,690
63K
79
6
60
26
607H
3,357
6,8641^
7,826H
14
688
518
1,370H
12,342
8,644K
2,881}-i
346H
5,673
4,433
5,756U
4.8891^
2,021
1.009J^
1,477
Average
No. grown
per acre.
11,890
11,689
10,362
11,734
6,998
10,688
13,054
12,616
7,191
14,861
11.266
11.307
6,764
12,964
11,1175
10,072
105,121
95,094
15,989
11,295
28,052
61,157
15,026
21,639
24,432
14,047
Total num-
ber grown.
240,570,66*
3,144,466
38,236,254
742,200
652,841
64,125
662,679
328,016
4,368,323
49,887,894
77,223,402
88,494,367
80,700
7.623,000
6.047,680
13,803,008
1,297,408,257
822,0;»,324
46,072,530
3.91.653
159.139,248
271,108,253
86,487,491
105,310,810
49,:j76,80»
14,180,789
Number of Nurseries, Their Acreage, and Capital Im-
VESTED.
States and Territories.
The United States...
North Atlantic division
Maine
New Hampshire
Vermont
Massachusetts
Rhode Island
Connecticut
New York
New Jersey
Pennsylvania
South Atlantic division
Delaware
Maryland
District of Columbia .
Virginia
West Virginia
North Carolina
South Carolina
Georgia
Florida
North Central division:
Ohio
Indiana
Illinois
Michigan
Wisconsin
Minnesota
Iowa
Missouri
North Dakota
South Dakota
Nebraska
Kansas
South Central division;
Kentucky
Tennessee
Alabama
Mississippi
Louisiana
Texas
Arkansas
Western division:
Colorado
New Mexico
Arizona
Utah
Idaho
Washington
Oregon
California
Number of
Nurseries
4,510
41
6
17
120
9
20
5.30
145
311
36
50
1
54
22
32
3
16
137
393
223
434
155 ■
117
69
183
229
13
27
177
339
49
54
15
15
24
97
68
23
1
3
17
8
27
36
166
Acres of
Land
172,806
Total Capital
Invested.
$52,425,669.51
226
23
75
1,891
45
.S28
24.840
5,465
6,598
725
1,443
120
1,890
633
960
70
812
1,374
16,790
5,464
17,812
3,015
1.651
1,726
12,049
15,190
26
.586
15,641
11,493
621
1,M2
975
.505
280
4,665
767
637
70
82
199
248
435
1,576
11,144
208,177.5*
14,'iOO.OO
46.500.00
1,773,500.00
.58 ,.500.00
194,071 ..57
12,202,844.60
1,970,593.90
4,210,805.50
155,361.15
519,400.00
126,000.00
922,172.58
126,086.40
231,840.00
4,000.00
277,960.00
466,224.93
4,178,618.19
1,056,611.91
4,778,083.94
869,491.10
492.277.60
652,433.64
1,591,790.78
2,932,473.24
45,500.00
126,749.88
1,479,953.61
1,425,793.81
504393.75
1,015,971.66
455,040.00
79,284.00
170,400.00
I,211,9;«).6I
119,800.36
162,916.58
15,200.00
8,500.00
8:3,810.00
172,000.00
190,620.00
236,668.00
4,871 ,920.4«
UNITED STATES OF AMERICA
1577
Horses, Mules and Asses on Farms.
The following United States census summaries for
1890 include the number of these animals emplojed
only on farms which contain each three acres and
over, and show that in the states and territories
there were on hand, June 1, 1890, 14,976,017 horses,
2,24(5,936 mules, and 49,109 asses ; that in 1S89 there
were foaled 1,814,404 horses, 157,105 mules and 7,957
asses; that there were sold in the same year 1,309,-
557 horses, 329,995 mules, and 7,271 asses, and that
there died from all causes 765,211 horses, mules,
and asses during the same period.
The increase of horses from 1880 to 1890 is shown
to be 44.59 per cent, as against 44.95 per cent
between 1870 and 1880. The increase of mules
from 1880 to 1890 was 26.66 per cent.
Of the aggregate number of horses and mules in
the whole country, June 1, 1890, 86.95 per cent were
horses and 13.05 per cent were mules. The North
Atlantic group of states had the smallest propor-
tion of mules, 2.41 per cent, while tlie South
Atlantic group had the largest proportion, 32.04
per cent, as against 67.96 per cent of horses.
The census summaries by states and groups of
states are as follows :
states and Territories.
The United States...
yorth Atiantic Division
Maine
New Hampsliire
Vermont
Massachusetts.
Rliode Island
Connecticut
New York
New Jersey
Pensylvania
South Atlantic Division,
Delaware •
Maryland
District of Columbia
Virginia
West Virginia
Nortii Carolina
Soutli Carolina
Georgia
Florida
North Central Division,
Ohio
Indiana
Illinois
Michigan
Wisconsin
Minnesota
Iowa
Missouri
North Dakota
South Dakota
Nebraska
Kansas
South Central Division.
Kentucky
Tennessee
Alabama
Mississippi
Louisiana
Texas
Oklahoma
Arkansas
Western Division.
Montana
"Wyoming
Colorado
New Mexico
Arizona
Utah
Nevada
Idaho
Washington
Oregon
Cabfornia
Horses.
14,976,017
109,156
52,458
89,569
B3,h:«
9,864
43,704
664,4.30
86.926
618,660
25,6.56
1.30,395
826
242 .3.34
154,721
131,451
59,888
103,501
31,087
880,677
720,035
1,3.35,289
516,117
460,740
461, .509
1,312,079
946,191
130,931
250,305
626,789
930,305
401,356
311,842
121,207
155,050
126,777
1,025,876
25,854
186,867
144,826
87,403
155,170
38,1.30
15,780
64,801
56,788
84,l:«
163,770
224,962
405,313
Mules.
2,246,936
248
115
313
1.57
49
267
4,.386
8.166
29,235
4,790
14,064
40
37,119
7,221
99,299
86,073
156,860
9,6:M
18,493
58,608
106,180
3,670
5,406
9,315
40,746
245,102
8,665
7,522
45,972
93,932
146,.521
5,128
198,172
5,467
133 ,892
908
155,712
1.043
87 ,.539
489
220 ..596
6,8,36
4,882
41
124,888
1,600
949
16
1,185
57
5,144
1,995
2,409
5,958
637
309
1,122
432
1,632
91
976
86
1,312
33
4,756
190
52,886
1,649
Asses.
49,109
30
2
12
2.50
61
328
29
97
1
414
109
712
233
517
131
366
976
1.695
1.52
346
196
902
6,441
44
119
.540
2,005
Production of Cotton in the United States.
The manufacture of cotton in the United States
has been rapidly growing in recent years. At the
census of 1880 there were found to be 756 manu-
factories for materials solely for cotton, with a
capital of .$208,280,445, the number of spindles was
10,653,435 (12,000,000 in 1882); of looms, 225,759;
hands employed, 174,659; cotton consumed, 1,570,-
344 balss (750,343,981 lbs.), valued at $86,945,728;
producing materials valued at .$192,OJO,000.
The following are some statistics of cotton :
Ret'n'd for
Year.
Production.
Imports.
Exports.
Home Con-
sumption.
U.S.
lbs.
lbs.
lbs.
1880
2.771,797.596
3.547,792
1 .822.295, W3
953,(M9,10§
18W
2,757,544.422
7.019,492
1,863.926.466
900,6:J7,448
1886
2.742,966,011
5,115.680
1,893,268,732
854,812,959
le»6
3,182,305,659
5,072,334
2,059,314,405
1,128,063,588
1887
3,167,378,443
3,924,531
2,170,173,701
991,129,273
1888
3,439,172,391
5,497„592
2,264,324,798
1,180,346,185
1889
3,437,408,499
7,973,039
2,386,004,628
1,060,376,910
The value of cottons of domestic manufacture exported
from the United States were from $4,071,882 in 1875 to tU,-
639,691 in 1885, and $10,212,644 in 1889.
Live Stock Ranges.
On the ranges of Texas, the Indian Territory,
Colorado, the western portions of Kansas, Nebraska,
Wyoming, the Dakotas, Montana, Idaho, the eastern
portions of California, Oregon and Washington,
Nevada, Utah, Arizona and New Mexico there were
found in June 1890, 617,128 horses, 6,433 mules,
14,109 asses, or burros, 6,828,183 cattle, 6,676,902
sheep, and 17,276 swine. The sales of horses in
1889 amounted to $1,418,205; of cattle, $17,913,712;
of sheep, $2,669,663, and of swine, $27,132. The total
number of men reported upon ranges in care of
this stock is 15,390. This industry is found to be
more generally prosperous at this time than for
several years previous.
Coal Product West of Mississippi River.
The following table furnishes the census sum-
maries for 1890 :
States and Territories.
a
Produc-
tions.
Value.
■3 .
569
16,067,500
$24,413,262
$1.52
Trans-Mississippi Valley
449
10,051,229
1,4271,622
1.43
Dakota and Nebraska
5
127
10
172
123
8
4
98
30,307
2,230,763
752,832
4,061,704
2,567,823
279,584
128,216
4,836,368
46,331
3,294.754
1,323.806
5. .392 .220
3.478.058
.395.8:i6
340,617
7,486,004
1.53
1.48
1.76
1.33
1.35
1.42
Texas
3.66
Rocky Mountain region.
1.56
Montana
Wyoming.
8
15
53
18
4
22
363,301
1,1388,947
2,.360,536
486,983
236,601
1,179,903
881.523
1,748,618
3,605,622
872,785
377,456
2,655,636
3.4.'{
1.26
1.6S
1.79
Utah
1.60
Pacific Coast
3 25
California and Oregon
Washington
10
12
186,176
993,724
451.881
2.203.755
2.48
3.33
1578
UNITED STATES OF AMERICA
In North and South Dakota the ascertained coal
areas lie in the western counties, between a line
Tunning from the Turtle Mountains in the north
through Burleigh County to the southern borders
(if tlie Black Hills and the western boundary line.
The product is a fair grade of lignite or brown
coal, suitable for heating and steam, and in some
localities it is adapted for the manufacture of gas.
The output in 1889 was 28,907 short tons valued at
$41,431.
In Kansas the coal measures cover an area of
about 10,000 square miles, underlying the entire
eastern portion of the state. The coals are bitu-
minous and are found to be excellent for coking,
steam, gas, smelting, and domestic purposes. The
coal d'eposits are known to extend into twenty
counties, and in 1890 mining operations were car-
ried on in Leavenworth, Franklin, Neosho, Chero-
kee, Bourbon, and Osage Counties. The output is
rapidly increasing. The veins vary /om one to
five feet.
In the Indian Territory the only carboniferous
coal west of the Mississippi itiver extend across
the boundaries of Kansas, Slissouri, and Arkansas,
underlying almost the entire eastern half of that
territory. The present developments of import-
ance are along the line of the Missouri, Kansas
and Texas Railway, in the Choctaw Nation Reser-
vation, and are conducted by the Osage Coal and
Mining Company at McAlester and the Atoka
Mining Company at Lehigh.
The quality of the coal now being mined in this
territory is excellent for steam and heating pur-
poses, and is well suited for gas and coking. The
beds from which the product is obtained range
from three to five feet in thickness, and comprise
the two lower veins, which are here found to be of
much greater thickness and freer from bone and
other impurities than in any other part of the
field. Competent authorities assert that the coals
now being mined in the Indian Territory are
superior to any found west of the Appalachian
field.
In Iowa nearly half the State is underlaid with
coals. The northern extremity of the great coal
field occupies the southern portion of the State,
extending across the southeastern counties of
Nebraska, thence southward through Kansas,
Missouri, Arkansas, Texas, and Indian Territory.
Coal is produced in twenty-sis counties, and is of a
quality generally well adapted for steam and heat-
ing purposes. No canal or gas coal is found in the
State.
In Missouri coal is found in thirty-nine coun-
ties, the deposite being a part of what is known as
the Fourth Field underlying portions of Nebraska,
Iowa, Kansas, Missouri, Arkansas, and Indian Ter-
ritory. The geological surveys of the State have
not as yet clearly defined the outcroppings of the
beds in the several counties, but mining operations
have been conducted to a greater or less extent in
the territory lying north of the Missouri River
from the western boundary to the Mississippi
River, and in the counties lying south of the
Missouri River, between Kansas City and Jefferson
City, and along the western boundary to Jasper
and Dade counties. The principal developments
are within Adair, Audrain, Barton, Bates, Caldwell,
Callaway. Grundy, Henry, Johnson, Lafayette,
Macon, Montgomery, Putnam, Randolph, Ray, and
Vernon counties.
The character of the coal is semi-bituminous,
and is adapted for steam and heating purposes, as
well as for smithing.
In xirknnsas the coal deposits are located in the
western part of tlie State upon either side of the
Arkansas River, extending between Forth Smitli
and Little Rock. Mining operations have been
conducted in Sebastian, Franklin, Logan, Craw-
ford, Johnson, and Pope counties. The coals of
Arkansas are variable in quality, and are adapted
for steaming, coking, and gas manufacture, and
domestic purposes. Coal mining in this State may
be said to have begun about the year 1870, but it
did not assume commercial importance until about
the year 1883.
In Texas the principal coal lies in the northern
portion of the State, extending southwest from the
Red River in Montague county, to the Colorado
River. This basin is a continuation of the great
Foarth or Western field, of which it forms the
southern extremity. It is said to underlie the
whole or portions of twenty-five counties, and em-
braces an area of 12,000 square miles. The only
operation of importance in this field, in the year
1889 was that of the Tebas and Pacific Coal Com-
pany in Erath county. The field next in impor-
tance in this State lies along the Rio Grande,
underlying Webb, Dimmit, Zavalla, Uvalde,
Medina, and Maverick counties, known as the
Nueces coal field, and embraces about 3,700 square
miles. The quality here is variable, differing ma-
terially from that of the Central field, the lower
measures yielding a fair semi-bituminous product,
while tlie upper measures are somewhat lignitie.
The principal developments in this field are Santo
Tomas, in Webb county, and Eagle Pass, in Mav-
erick county.
An extended area, bounded by lines drawn from
Clarksburg, in Red River county, southwesterly
to the Rio Grande, and thence northeast to the
Sabine River, in Sabine county, is said to contain
important deposits of lignite. No developments
have thus far been reported in this field, except
those of the North Texas Coal and Mining Com-
pany in Raines county.
The Rocky Movntain coal regions are embraced in
Colorado, Wyoming, Montana, Utah, and Neir Mexico.
Although indications of lignite deposits have been
found in Nevada, Idaho, and Arizona, no effort at
development has yet been made beyond desultory
prospecting. Lignite, bituminous, and anthracite
coals are found in the region under consideration.
The latter, however, so far as known, is confined to
Gunnison and Pitkin counties, in Colorado, and the
quality is said to compare favorably with the
anthracite of eastern Pennsylvania. Tlie bitumin-
ous coals comprise some excellent qualities of cok-
ing and gas coals. During the decade since the
Tenth Census the development of coal mining in
the states and territories named has been intel-
ligently and vigorously prosecuted.
In California, although coal deposits of more or
less importance have been discovered in many of
the counties of the State west of the Sierras from
Siskiyou, in the vicinity of Mount Shasta, in the
north, to San Diego in tlie south, no mining opera-
tions upon a commercial scale have been prose-
cuted except in Amador and Contra Costa counties.
Coal was discovered in th6 Mount Dieblo district
in 1852, but productive mining was not prosecuted
until after the year 1860. This district now fur-
nishes tlie major portion of the product of the
State. The coals of California, so far as at present
known, are all lignitie in character, generally in-
ferior to the coals of Washington and Oregon, and
can not compete with tlie better coals supplied by
sea from British Columbia and Australia.
In Oregon outcroppings of coal have been found
in nineteen counties, both east and west of the
Cascade Range, but mining operations are reported
only in Coos county. These mines are located at
I
UNITED STATES OF AMERICA
1579
Marshfield, on Coos Bay, and are operated by the
Oregon Coal and Navigation Company. The Coos
county field is claimed to cover an area of several
hundred square miles, and is a fair quality of lig-
nite. The product is shipped mainly to San Fran-
cisco.
In Wafhiiigton the mining of coal began in 1S50-
51 in the vicinity of Bellingham Bay, in the ex-
treme northwestern part of the Territory now a
State), hut operations there were discontinued in
1S79, and have not been resumed. Several im-
portant coal areas have since been opened up, both
on the western and eastern slopes of the Cascade
Range, the most important of which are in the
vicinity of Puget Sound, in King, Pierce, and
Thurston counties, and in Yakima county, near
the Attanam River. Outcroppings have been
found in other localities, notably at Ellensburg,
and in Lincoln and Spokane counties, and also in
White Salmon River, in Cascade county. The
coals of this State embrace lignite, semi-bitumi-
nous, and bituminous varieties, adapted for coking,
gas, steam, and domestic purposes. Some speci-
mens of a very tine grade of coal, resembling
anthracite, are reported as having been taken from
Cowlitz pass, in Yakima county. The total area of
the coal deposits of Washington has not yet been
fully determined, but there is no doubt that
almost inexhaustible supplies are at hand, not only
for the future demand of its own population, bur
sufficient to furnish a basis for profitable traffic for
transportation to the entire Pacific coast.
QriCKSiLVER Mixes and Reductiox Works.
The quicksilver mines and reduction works of
the United States were limited in 18Si> to Califor-
nia and Oregon. In California there were three
mines in take county, four in Xapa county, and
one each in Merced. San Benito Santa Clara, and
Sonoma. There was also a non-productive mine in
Siskiyou and another in Trinity county.
In Oregon there were three non-productive mines
in Douglas county.
During the year there were 26,464 flask«, or 2,024,-
469 pounds, or 1,012 tons of quicksilver produced in
California. About 20 flasks were produced in Ore-
gon. This yield was much less than usual owing
to litigation and other causes.
At eleven active establishments there were ex-
pended $219,622 for supplies. $626,289 for wages, and
$.35,490 for other expenses, embracing taxes, rent,
interest, etc., making a total of $881,401, showing
that 71 per cent, was paid for wages, 25 per cent,
for supplies, and 4 per cent, for all other expenses.
Of the amount paid for wages the office force
absorbed $34,966, and there was paid to foremen,
mechanics, miners, furnace hands, and laborers,
$591,323. The total cost was $881,401 ; total market
value, $1,190,500 ; profit, $,309,099. The total capital
invested in mines, buildings, machinery, etc.. was
estimated at $1,331,114. The sale prices averaged
about $45 per flask.
St.\tistics for E.^^rher Periods. — The earliest
records relating to production of quicksih-er in
California for 1860, cinnabar having been first dis-
covered there in 184.5, and but very little quick-
silver was produced prior to 18.50, when active work
was commenced at New Almaden. Outside of Cal-
ifornia quicksilver has been produced in two local-
ities in the United States ; in Oregon, to the extent
of 2,000 flasks, and in Utah, where about 200 flasks
were reported.
The production of quicksilver in the United
States and in all other countries for ten years is
ihown by flasks in the following table :
„
;.'
~ i
^
V
0
be
4
Yenr.
Total of a
.States.
k
B
<
a
'5
1
0 >.
5
1880
59,920
45,322
10,510
3,410
59,242
119,168
1881
60,851
44,989
1133:5
3,760
60,082
120,933
1.SS2
f)2,732
46,716
11,663
4,110
62,489
115,221
ISivf
4«.725
49.177
13,1.52
6,065
68,394
115,119
l.S.'il
:u,9is
48,098
13,9i;7
7.850
69,915
101,828
lex's
;«.07,s
4.1.813
13,503
6,965
66,281
98.354
I.SJM-. ...
29,981
51.199
14,496
7,375
73.070
103,051
18.V7
33,760
.53,276
14.676
7,075
75,027
108,787
Ifv'i.'i
3;9.2sn
51,872
14.962
9,830
76,664
109,914
1S)49
26.«>4
49.477
15.295
10,000
74,772
101,236
Total
J07.r.75
4S5,939
133,557
(kj,440
685,936
1,093,611
Pkudi cTiox or Iron Ore ix the United States.
The census of 1890»i!owed that during the year
closing Dec. 31, 1889, the production of iron ore in
the United States amounted to 14,518,041 long tons,
the yield being from twenty-six States and two
Territories.
Michigan was by far the largest producer of iron
ore in the census year 1889, a total of 5,856,169 long
tons having been mined, the value of which was
$15,800,521 at tlie mines, an average of $2.70 per ton.
The tonnage from Michigan therefore represents
40.34 per cent, of the total, while the aggregate
value is 47.38 per cent, of that of the entire coun-
try.
The credit of holding second rank lies between
the States of Alabama and Pennsylvania, the for-
mer, from the figures collected, having apparently
a slightly greater output than the latter. This un-
certainty is owing to the fact that the reports ob-
tained from two of the larger Alabama mines
covered operations commencing May 1, 1889, and
ending May 1, 1890, and no detailed record of the
amount of ore produced and labor employed dur-
ing the three months of 1890 was obtainable. The
position of Pennsylvania is also affected by the
refusal of one large producer to supply absolute
figures, but it will be noted that in the shipments
or apparent consumption of iron ores Pennsylvania
takes precedence of Alabama.
Alabama is therefore placed second as a producer
of iron ore, with 1,570,319 long tons, valued at $1,-
511,611, an average of 96 cents per ton. These fig-
ures represent 10.82 and 4..53 percent., respectively,
of the total output and value.
Pennsylvania closely follows Alabama, its output
being 1.560.234 long tons, valued at $3,063,534, an
average of $1.96 per ton, and 10.75 and 9.19 per
cent., respectively, of the total output and value.
The other State which produced over 1,000,000
tons in the present census year was New York^
which is credited with 1,247,537 long tons, valued at
$3,100,216, an average of $2.49 per ton, the figures
representing, respectively, 8.59 and 9.30 per cent, of
the total output and value.
These four States, therefore, produced a total of
10,234,2.59 long tons, or 70,49 per cent, of the entire
output of the iron-ore mines of the United States,
while the value of the ore aggregates $23,475,882,
or 70.39 per cent, of the total valuation.
The tabulated statement which follows is taken
from actual returns, made to the Census Depart-
ment and verified in every way possible except
by individual visitations to all of the iron-ore
mines. The figures of production are possibly be-
low the actual results, for in some localities farm-
ers gather ore ai odd times and sell to blast fur-
1580
UNITED STATES OF .V M E R 1 C A
naces in small lots. AVherever this amount could 1
be obtained it is included in the table. !
States and
Territories.
Total
Alabama
Colorado
ConBecticut, Maine
and Massachii
setts
Delaware andMary-
land
Georgia and North
Carolina
Idaho and Montana
Kentucky
Michigan
Minnesota
Missouri..
New Jersey
New Mexico and
Utah
New York
Ohio
Oregon and Wash-
ington ".
Pennsylvania
Tennessee
Texas
Virginia and West
Virginia?
Wisconsin
^"mino"^-' Amount :Totalval-l Value
"'^yj', produced. ]ue of pro- per long
!Long tons.
45
18
2
33
70
16
14^18,OU
1370,319
109,136
88,251
29,380
238.140
21,072
77.487
5356,109
864,508
265,718
•115,510
36.050
1.247.537
251,291
26,283
1,t60.231
473,294
13,000
511,2.55
837,399
ductiou.
$33,a51,978
$-2.3t)
1,511,6U
487,433
265,901
68,240
334,025
I.vS.974
l;5A59
!.5..^00-t21
2.478.041
i61,(Hl
U3I1,513
70,956
.3,100516
532,725
39,234
.".(163,534
/' 606.476
19,750
935,290
1,810.908
0.96
4.47
3.01
2.32
1.29
6.60
1.75
2.70
2.87
2.1";
1.97
2 49
2 09
1 49
1 96
1 28
1 52
1.83
2 20
States and Territories.
Alabama - -
Arkansas
California
Colorado
Connecticut
Idaho
Illinois
Indiana
Iowa
Kansas
Kentucky
Maine
Maryland
Massachusetts...
Michigan ,..'.
Minnesota
Missouri
Montana
Nebraska
New Jersey
New Mexico
New York
Ohio
Pennsylvania . . .
Rhode Island . .
South Carolina .
Tennessee
Texas
Utah
Vermont
Virginia
Washington
West Virginia. . .
Wisconsin
Other states (i)
Total
Number
of
Total value.
quarries.
21
324,814
/
18,360
22
516,780
15
138,091
9
131,697
3
28,545
104
2,190,607
172
1.889,336
143
530.863
115
478,822
54
303.314
60
1.523.499
30
164.860
12
119.978
8
Sa.9o2
72
613.247
123
1359,960
4
24.964
29
207,019
33
129,662
4
3362
157
1,708330
221
1.514,984
37S
2,655,477
2
27.625
2
14,520
11
73,028
18
217,835
2
27.568
16
195.066
11
159.02.'>
8
231.287
8
93,856
79
813,963
6
77,935
1,954
$19,095,179
The total value given in the above table is exclusive of
that known as white marble. The latter would add $3,488.-
170. increasing the total to $22,562,349.
Limestone Qlaeries ix the United St.\tes.
The following table shows the number of quar-
rieg and the value of products in 1889 by states and
territories :
The production of limestone in the United States
for the census year 1889 was as follows : For build-
ing purposes, 92,289,896 cubic feet, valued at $5,405,-
671 ; converted into lime, 18,474,668 barrels, valued
at $8,217,015; stone for burning into lime, 478,082
tons, valued at $184,024: flux fqr furnaces, 3,894.337
tons, valued at .tl..569.312: for street work, 46.491,-
622 cubic feet, valued at $2.383,456 ; for bridge,
dam, and railroad work, 26,679,012 cubic feet, val-
ued at $1,289,622; miscellaneous uses, 549,875 cubic
feet, valued at $46,079, making a total value of $19,-
095.179. The expenditures were as follows: For
wages, $10,121,985 ; for supplies and materials con-
sumed. $4,227,246: other expenses of quarries,
$743,483, making a total of $15,092,714. The capital
invested in the industry amounted to $27,022,325;
of this sum $14,771,200 was in land, $4,988,207 in
buildings and fixtures, $4,541,623 in tools, imple-
ments, etc.. and $2,711,295 in cash.
Surveys of Public Lands of the United States.
I. Historical Xote*
After the close of the Revolutionary War, the
eastern colonies surrendered to the General Gov-
ernment their several claims to the lands north of
the Ohio, and west of Pennsylvania, as far as to the
Mississippi River. Connecticut, however, retained
the northeastern corner of Ohio, now called the
"Connecticut," or "AVestern Reserve." Virginia
also reserved a large tract in the southern part of
the State, between the Scioto and the Miami rivers.
Georgia relinquished her claim to Alabama and
Mississippi. Subsequently Florida, the Louisiana
Purchase. Texas. California, and Arizona were ac-
quired either by treaty or by purchase. See Ter-
ritorial Cessions OF the States in these Revisions
and Additions.
As early as 1785 provision was made by Congress
for a uniform system of surveys of all public lands.
The present system was adopted in 1786. Thomas
.leflCerson is generally credited with its authorship.
"Lot 16" of every township was set apart for the
maintenance of jjublic schools. Since 18-52, sec-
tions 16 and 36 in every township are given to the
school fund. They are called School Sections. The
surveys are not extended
across Indian Reservations,
nor over any lands which
are not the property of the
United States.
There was no system
adopted in allotting the
lands of the original States.
Each tract was described
bj' metes and bounds, and
often in a manner so vague
as to present various con-
flicting claims.
//. TTie Toirmhip and its
Stibdivisioyis.
The public lands of the
United States are gener-
ally laid out in toirnships
and sections. These town-
ships and sections are des-
ignated by a simple and
uniform system of number-
ing.
A tovnship is six miles
square, and consequently
contains thirty-six square
miles, or 23.040 acres. Its
*Orisina!ly and chiefly prepared for .Swinton's Geography,
and inst-rted in these Revisious and Additicns, through the
kindness of the American Book Exchange, New York, 1891.
Diagram l.
A TO'.VN.SIMP
N.
I
•) jlO'll
-i-
"r:
II 13
C3 .14' Jo;.)o
I : \ !
UNITED STATES OF AMERICA
1581
boundaries are meridians on the east and west,
and parallels of hititu<lt on the north and south.
A township is divided into 3(3 ■■n-riioiis, each one
mile square "as nearly as may be." A section con-
tains 640 acres.
The sections of a township are always numbered
in the order indicated by Diagram 1.
Section 1 is always in the northeast corner of
the township, and the numbers run alternately
west and east. Sections are divided as indi-
eated in Diagram 2.
The government surveyors mark the corners of
townships, sections, half-sections, and quarter-sec-
tions (except the corner in the center of the sec-
tion) with stakes, stones, or mounds of turf, after a
uniform system. In some of the later surveys
eighths and sixteenths are also measured.
///. yiiiiibering of TowHships.
Townships are legally designated by numbers
instead of names. All surveys begin l)y establish-
ing a true, meriiHan. along which the surveyors
Diagram 3.
)
,
N.
•orre;ctioh
5
INE
■i J£ 1
T. *h
1
i
3
1 ;;-■
2
•w.
PA<^E I
'
1
E.
IV.
III.
11.
:'
n.
ni.|iv.
1
a.
2
1. ?5
3
- .1
4
1
1
0
1
1
1 s
measure from some selected point, marking each
half-mile point with a "quarter stake," and each
mile point with a "section corner." At each six-
rnile point a "township corner" is marked. This
line is called a principal meridian.
Through this selected starting-point upon the
principal meridian, a true parallel of latitude is
run, and measured from the meridian. The half-
mile, mile, and six-mile corners are marked as
upon the meridian. This is called a base-line.
In the later surveys, additional parallels, called
'i.rreclion-lines are measured at distances of twenty-
four or thirty miles apart, and also true meridians
forty-eight miles apart, called guide meridians.
The principal meridians, guide-meridians, base-
lines, and correction-lines, are astronomical lines.
All other lines are run with chain and compass,
and are subject to two errors, — one from the varia-
tion of the needle, and the other from the impossi-
bility of making perfectly accurate measurements
with the chain. The sections are never surveyed
by the same surveyors that mark the townships.
Townships are numbered north and south from
the base-line. A row of townships runnin;j north
and south is called a range. Ranges are numbered
east and west from the principal meridian.
This is illustrated by diagram 3, — Each square
represents a township. Numerals on the base-line
indicate ranges east and west of the principal me-
ridian. Numerals on the principal meridian indi-
cate townships north and south of the base-line.
The southwest township on this diagram is de-
scribed as "Township 5 South, of Range 4 West,"
or"T. 5S.. R. 4^."
North of the base-line the correction-lines occur
every four townships, or twenty -four miles; south
of the base-line, every five townships, or thirty
miles. This is on account of the greater con-
vergence of the meridians as we proceed north.
In a survey of Central British America, to secure
equal accuracy, correction lines would need to be
laid out every two or three townships.
In locating townships they are always described
as north or south of the base-li)ie.
Sometimes a neir base-li)ie is located in passing
from one state to another. For instance, on the
fourth principal meridian the south boundary line
of AVisconsin forms a new base-line for surveys in
that state.
To locate any given township, as, for instance,
Township 16 North of Range 9 East, count east-
ward from the principal meridian along the base-
line until the ninth range is reached ; then count
northward in that range until its sixteenth town-
ship is reached.
To locate a t 'vuship accurately when its num-
ber and range are given, it is necessary to know
from what meridian it is reckoned, and where its
base-line crosses that meridian.
f r. Location of Meridians.
There are thirty meridians governing the sur-
veys of public lands in the United States, as fol-
lows :
The first principal mcriilian divides the states of Ohio
aud ludiana, having for its base the Ohio River, the river b&
iug coincident with Sl^ 51' of longitude west from Green-
wich. This meridian governs the surveys of public lands in
the State of Ohio.
The second principal meridian coiueides with 86° 28' of long-
itude west from Greenwich, starts from the confluence of
the Little Blue River with the Ohio, runs north to the
northern boundary of Indiana, and governs the surveys in
ludiana and a portion of those in Illinois.
The third principal meridian starts from the mouth of the
Ohio River and extends to the northern boundary of the
State of Illinois, and governs the surveys in said state
(<is(of the meridian, with the exception of those projected
from the second meridian, and the surveys on the icc^t to the
Illinois River. This meridian coincides with 89' 10' 30" of
longitude west from Greenwich.
The fourth principal meridian begins in the middle of the
channel of the mouth of the Illinois River, in latitude 38='
58' 12" north and longitude 90° 29' 5B" west from Greenwich,
and governs the surveys in Illinois west of the Illinois River
and west of the third principal meridian lying north of the
river. It also extends due north through Wisconsin and
northeastern Minnesota, governing all the surveys in the
former and those in the latter state lying east of the Missis-
sippi, and the third guide meridian (west of the fifth prin-
cipal meridian) north of the river.
The Jijth principal meridian starts from the mouth of the
Arkansas River, aud with a common base-line running due
west from the mouth of the Saint Francis River, in Arkan-
sas, governs the surveys iu .\rkansas, Missouri, Iowa, Min-
nesota west of the Mississippi, and the third guide merid-
ian north of the river, and in North and South Dakota east
of the Missouri River. This meridian is coincident with 90"
58' longitude west from Greenwich.
The sixth principal wrrfd/nn coincides with longitude 97°
22' west from Greenwich, and, with the principal base-line
intersecting it on the -lOth degree of north latitude, extends
north to the intersection of the Missouri River and south to
the 37th degree of north latitude, controlling the surveys in
Kansas, Nebraska, most of North and South Dakota lying
west of the Missouri River, Wyoming and Colorado, except-
ing the valley of the Rio Grande del Norte, in southwestern
Colorado, where the surveys are projected from the New
'Mexico meridian.
The Michigan meridian, in longitude 84^ 19' 09" west from
Greenwich, with a base-line on a parallel seven miles north of
Detroit, governing the surveys in Mioliigau.
Tlie Tallahassee nuridian.m longitude M' 18' west from
Greenwich, runs due north aud south from the point of in-
1582
UNITED STATES OF AMERICA
tersection with the base-liuu yt Tiillahassee. aud governs the
survevs in Florida.
The Saint Stcphrn'n mrridiaii, longitude 88^ 02' west from
Greenwich, starts from Mobile, passes through Saint
Stephen's, intersects the hase-line on the 31st degree of north I
latitude, and controls the surveys of the southern district in i
Alabama and of the Pearl Kivei- district lying east of the '
river and south of township 10 north in the state of Missis-
sippi,
The HtmtstiUe mfridinn. lougitudc 86^ .^1' west from Green-
wich, exteuds from the uortheru boundary of Alabama as a
base, passes through the town of Huntsville, and governs the
surveys of the uortheru district in Alabama.
Tbe'Clwctaw mcrhlhin. lougitude 89' 10' 30" west from Green-
wich, passes two miles west of the town of Jackson, in Mis-
sissippi, starting from the base-line twenty-nine miles south
of Jackson, and termiuatiug on the south boundary of the
Chickasaw cession, coutrolling the surveys east aud west of
the meridian and north of the base.
'The Wa.^h(i}tjt(ni inrritl/an, lougitude 9P 06' west from
Greenwich, seveu miles east of the town of Washington, in
Missis^ipiu. with the base-liue corresponding with the 31st
degree of north latitude, governs the surveys in the south-
western angle of the State.
"The Thf Sitiiit Hilina m(ri(lion.9V 05' west from Greenwich,
extends from the 31st degree of north latitude, as a base, due
south, and passing one mile east of Batou Kouge, controls the
surveys in the Greeusborougli and the southeastern districts
of Louisiana, both lying east of the Mississippi.
The Lottisiaun iinn'Jiaiu^2 2<)' west from Greenwich, inter-
sects the 31st degree north latitude at a distance of forty-
eight miles we«t of the eastern bank of the Mississippi River,
aiid, with the base-line coincident with the said parallel of
north latitude, governs the surveys in Louisiana west of the
Mississippi.
The ynr ^£rxico mrridftt^, longitude 106^ 52' 09" west from
Greenwich, intersects the principal base-line on the Rio
Grande del Xorte. about ten miles below the mouth of the
Puerco River, on the parallel of 34' 19' north latitude, and
governs the surveys in New Mexico, and the valley of the
Rio Grande del Norte, in Colorado.
The (Jieol Salt Lake mmidkui, longitude HP 53' 47" west
from Greenwich, intersects the base-line at the corner of
Temple Block, in Salt Lake City, Utah, on the parallel of 40'
46' 04" north latitude, and governs the surveys of I'tah.
The Buixr mM(((((i;i. lougitude 116' 20' west from Greenwich,
intersects the principal base between the .Snake and Boise
rivers, in latitude 43-26' north. The initial monument, at
the intersection of the base and meridian, is nineteen miles
distant from Boise City, on a course of south 29' 30' west.
The meridian governs the surveys in Idaho.
The Mount Diattln mt:ridi'tn, California, coincides with lon-
gitude 121' .54' west from Greenwich, intersects the base-line
on the summit of the mountain from which it takes its name,
in latitude 37' 53' north, and governs the surveys of all cen-
tral and northeastern California aud the entire State of
Nevada.
The San li'', nardhni mtiidian, California, longitude 116' 56'
west from (ireenv ich. intersects the base-line at Mount San
Bernardino, latitude 34' 06' north, aud eoverus the surveys
in Southern California lying east of the meridian and that
part of the surveys situated west of it which are south of the
eighth standard "parallel south of the Mount Diablo base-
line.
The HumlmU nn ridimi, lougitude 124' 11' west from Green-
wich, intersects the principal base-line on the summit of
Mount Pierce, In latitude 40"i5' 30" north, aud controls the
surveys in the northwestern corner of California lying west
of the coast range of mountaius and north of township 6
south of the Humbolt base.
The Witti'intttf iiicrtdiftn is coincident with longitude 122'
44' west from Greenwich, its intersection with the base-liue
is on the parallel of 45' 30' north latitude, and it controls the
public surveys in Oregon and Washington.
The Montana mrriitian extends north aud south from the
initial monument established on the summit of a limestone
hill, eight hundred feet high, longitude HI' 40' 54" west from
Greenwich. The base-line runs east aud west from the
monument on the parallel of 45' 46' 27" north latitude. Tlie
surveys for Montana are governed by this meridian.
The'(Vi7r; and Salt Rifff meridian intersects the base-line
on the south side of Gila River, opposite the mouth of Salt
River, in longitude 112' 15' 46" west from Greenwich, and
latitude 32' 22^^ 57" north, aud governs the public surveys in
Arizona.
The Indian meridian intersects the base-line at Fort Ar-
buckle. Indian territory, in longitude 97 15' .56" west from
Greenwich, latitude 34' 31' north, aud governs the surveys in
that territory.
The Wind tlirer Meridian governs the subdivisional surveys
within the Shoshone Indian Reservation, in W^yoming.
The Uinta spfciat t>ase and meridian govern the surveys of
the Uinta Indian Reservation, in Utah.
The Xarajin .tpe'^ial liai<r and meridian control the surveys of
the Navajoe Indian Reservation, in New Mexico and .\ri-
zona.
The Blaek Hithineri(tian is coincident with the west bound-
ary of South Dakota, on the 27' of longitude west from
Washington, and intersects the base-line in the parallel of
44' north latitiuie: it governs the surveys in the southwest-
ern corner of South Dakota.
The Grand Jiircr mcridittn aud base- line govern the sub-
divisional surveys for allotment to the Ute Iiidians, in West-
ern Colorado.
The t'iinnrroti meridian, coincident with the eastern
boundary of New- Mexico, or 103 ' meridian on longitude west
from Greenwich, intersects the base-line on the parallel 36°
:iO' north latitude ( the north boundary of Texas), and governs
the surveys in the strip of public lands inclosed beiween
Kansas and Colorado on the north, the Indian territory on
the east, Texasou the south, and New Mexico on the west.
T'. Convergence of Meridians.
In consequence of the convergence of meridians,
townships accurately surveyed are not perfect
squares, but are longer upon the southern than
upon the northern boundary.
If the township corners upon a base-line are ex-
actly six miles apart, the townships surveyed
northward grows less and less as the distance frum
the base-line increases, and those surveyed sout h-
ward grow larger. Hence the
necessity of standard paral-
lels, or rorrection-Iiiies, to pre-
vent the errors from becom-
ing so great as to destroy the
value of the system.
Upon these correction-lines
the township corners are care-
fully placed at distances of
six miles apart.
The convergence of meri-
dians is greater in the higher
latitudes; but at latitude 42°
it is about half a rod to a
mile. Supposing the surveys
to be perfectly accurate, and
the correction-lines to be
twenty-four miles apart, the B*$Ei.st
convergence of the meridians S-
will then be about twelve rods, and there will
be a double set of township corners, as illustrated
in the following diagram, in which the conver-
gence of the meridians is greatly exaggerated to
make it evident to the eye.
Explanation.— In consequence of the conver-
gence of meridians, a line run due north from a
strikes the correction-line at 6 instead of at o.
Double township corners are consequently estab-
lished at b and a, and so on, their distance apart
increasing with their distance from the principal
meridian.
Lands are legally advertised in the following
way :—
" The south-east quarter of the south-east quarter
of the north-west quarter of section thirty-five in
township twenty-nine north, of range seven east of
the fourth principal meridian, containing ten acres
more or less."
The above is often abbre- Diagraqjs.
viatedthus: — n.
"The S. E. J^of theS. E.
I4 of the N. AV. U Sect. 35,
T. 29 K., R. 7 E. of the 4th
p. m."
Supposing the annexed w.l ^ — ' " I ■ [g-
drawing to represent the
Section 35 described, the
star (■■") shows the position
of the lot advertised.
The proper description is
found by consulting the records of the land-offices,
or the deed by which the title wns originally con-
veyed by the government.
These records are presumed to be correct, and
the only appeal from tliem is to the commissioner
of the General Land Office, the Secretary of the
Interior, and ultimately to the President of the
United States.
tr
r X I T E D STATES OF A M E R 1 C A
1583
VI. Public Land Sales and Grants.
The immense extent of land, forming part of the
Cnited States, as yet chietiy uninhabited and
dncultivated, is held to be National property, at
the disposal of Congress and tlie Executive of the
Republic. The public lands of the United States
which are still undisposed of lie in nineteen States
and six Territories, including Alaska. The public
lands are divided into two great classes. The one
class have a dollar and a quarter an acre desig-
nated as the minimum price, and the other two
dollars and a half an acre, the latter being the
alternate sections, reserved by the United States
in land grants to railroads, etc. Titles to these
lands may be acquired by private entry or location
under the homestead, pre-emption, and timber-cul-
ture laws ; or, as to some classes, by purchase for
cash. The homestead laws give the right to 160
acres of a-doUar-and-a-quarter lands, or to SO acres
of two-doUar-and-a-half lands, to any citizen or
applicant for citizenship over twenty-one who will
actually settle upon and cultivate the land. The
title is "perfected by the issue of a patent after five
years of actual settlement. The only charges in
the case of homestead entries are fees and com-
missions.
Another large class of free entries of public
lands is that provided for under the Timber-Cul-
ture Acts of 1873-7S. The purpose of these laws is
to promote the growth of forest trees on the public
lands. They give the right to any settler who has
cultivated for two years as much as five acres in
trees to an 80-acre homestead, or, if ten acres, to a
homestead of 160 acres, and a free patent for his
land is given him at the end of three years instead
of five.
In the middle of 1889 there were 1,815,504,147
acres of public lands in the States and Territories,
of which 981,631,984 had been surveyed. Of the
total area of the United States, 1,400,000 square
miles, or 896.000,000 acres, were unoccupied at the
census of 1880. Upwards of 88 million acres of
land are settled under the Homestead and Timber-
Culture Acts. In 1889 there were 6,020,2.31 acres
taken up under the Homestead Act, and 3,735,305
under the Timber-Culture Act.
In 1888, 5,317,906 acres were sold for cash, and the
total number of acres of public lands disposed of
during that year was 30,116,684, the monev received
being $13,547,137. Of the public lands in 1SS9, 369,-
52d,6CO acres were in Alaska unsurveyed. It is pro-
vided by law that two sections, or 640 acres of land,
in each " township," are reserved for common
schools, so that the spread of education may go
together with colonization.
The power of Congress over the public territory is
exclusive and universal, except so far as restrained
by stipulations in the original cessions.
Presidents of the Early Americ.\x Congresses.
The following is a fuU list of presidents of Con-
gress up to the date of the adoption of the National
Cor.stitution. with the dates severally of their ad-
ministrations : *
Peyton Randolph, of Virginia 1774-75
Henry Middleton, of South Carolina 1775-76
John Hancock, of Massachusetts 1776-77
Henry Laurens, of South Carolina 1777-78
John Jay, of New York 1778-79
Samuel Huntington, of Connecticut 1779-80
Thomas McKean. of Pennsylvania 1780-81
John Hanson, of Maryland 1781-S2
•Kindly furnished for tbese Revisions and Additions bv
Prof I D. Gray, A. M., of Trenton. X. J.
Elias Boudinot, of New Jersey 1782-83
Thomas Mitflin, of Pennsylvania 1783-84
Richard Henry Lee, of Virginia 1784-86
Nathaniel Gorham, of Massachutts 1786-87
Arthur St. Clair, of Pennsylvania 1787-88
Cyrus Griffin, of Virginia ." 178&-89
John Hancock signed first as President of the
Congress the Declaration of Independence.
Elias Boudinot signed as president the definitive
treaty of peace.
Thomas Mifliin received as president AVashing-
ton's commission when he resigned it in 1783;
while
Richard Henry Lee presented the immortal reso-
lution which declared the colonies to be free and
independent States.
Chronological Historic Octlixe of the United
St.\tes.
Coast of Florida discovered by Ponce deLeon 1512
California discovered by Grijalva's expedition 1-535
Louisiana conquerred by De Soto 1-5-10
Raleigh establishes first settlement in Virginia 1-5S5
Jamestown, Virginia, founded by Lord de la
Warr 1607
New Amsterdam — now New York — built by
the Dutch 1614
New Jersey settled by the Dutch 1614
Settlement of New England begun by Captain
Smith ." 1614
Landing of the pilgrims at Plymouth Rock,
Dec. 25, 1620
Delaware settled by Swedes and Dutch 1614-1627
Massachusetts settled by Sir H. Rose well.... 1628
ilaryland settled by Lord Baltimore 1633
Connecticut settled by Lords Say and Brooke. 1635
Rhode Island settled by Roger Williams 1635
Connecticut (composed then of Hartford,
Windsor, and Wethersfield) adopted a lib-
eral constitution, the first written constitu-
tion in history Jan. 1, 1639
Roger Williams organized at Providence, R.
I. the first Baptist Church in America 1639
Rhode Island establishes a democratic consti-
tution 1641
An unsuccessful "Plan" was formulated to
unite all the American-English colonies into
one confederacy 1644
Maryland Assembly passed an act giving
complete toleration to all Christians 1649
The Connecticut Assembly prohibited the use
of tobacco to persons under the age of 20 1650
New Amsterdam (New York City) was in-
corporated 1652
Many Quakers sufifering persecution in Eng-
land began to migrate to the American
colonies but were persecuted in Massachu-
setts from this date 1657
An Indian church was organized in Natick,
Mass 1660
The General Court of Massachusetts published
a declaration of rights, claiming self-govern-
ment, and denying the right of Appeals to
England June, 1661
John Elliot published his translation of the
New Testament into the Massachusetts
Indian dialect 1661
The Virginia Assembly voted its members a
_ salary of 250 pounds of toLaco each day
' and passed severe laws against "Quakers,
Baptists, and other Dissenters" 1662
Execution for alleged witchcraft began in
Connecticut 1663
New York taken by the English 1664
The first settlement in Michigan iMission
Sault de Ste Marie) established 1668
1584
UNITED STATES OF A INI E R I C A
South Carolina settled by the English 1669
George Fox, founder of the (.Quakers, visited
the American Colonies 1671
Marquette and Joliet discovered and descend-
ed the Wisconsin, Des Moines, Mississippi,
and other Western rivers 1673
New York surrendered to a Dutch Squadron,
July 1673
Peace concluded between England and Hol-
land, the American colonies being ceded
back to England Feb. 1674
King Philip's war — Philip defeated and
killed 1676
Pennsylvania settled by William Penn 1682
Louisiana settled by the French 1682
William Penn published a frame of govern-
ment for Pennsylvania 1682
Philadelphia founded (there being "three or
four little cottages" ) 1683
A printing press was set up in Philadelphia
where there were 600 houses 1686
A French Census showed a population in
French America of 11,249 persons — about
one-twentieth of the population of the Eng-
lish American Colonies 1688
France declared war against England, lasting
till 1697, greatly disturbing the Colonies 1689
A semi-official estimate showed the popula-
tion of the Colonies to be about 200,000, as
follows: Massachusetts including Maine
and Plymouth, 44,000; Xew Hampshire,
6.000; Rhode Island and Providejice, 6,000
Connecticut, 19,000; New York, 20,000; New
Jersey, 10,000: Pennsylvania and Delaware,
12,000; Maryland, 25,000; Virginia 50,000;
Carolina (to Florida), 8,000 1690
A public post is established to send letters
from Philadelphia to the Potomnc eight times
a year! 1695
England and France signed articles of peace
at Eyswick Sept. 20, 1697
T^emoine D'lberville, commissioned by Louis
Xiy. of France sailed with four ships and
immigrants to mouth of Mississippi. 1698
Mississippi explored and settled by the
French 1699
Yale College was founded at Saybrook, Conn.,
Nov. 11 (chartered Oct. 1701 ) 1700
Detroit founded by La Mothe Cadillac (with
100 French colonists) 1701
England declared war against France and
Spain (the war of the Spanish succession,
lasting till 1713) 1702
New York Assembly appropriated £1.500 to
fortil'v tlie Narrows (Lord C'ornbury embez-
zled it) 1703
The Boston Neu's-Letter, the earliest news-
paper in America, started in Boston 1704
High Church party in South Carolina disfran-
chised dissenters (two-thirds of the popu-
lation) 1704
First Church erected in North Carolina 1705
New York succeeded in getting Lord Conibury
removed from the governorship 1708
A Colonial and English fleet captured Port
Royal, Acadia, and change its name to
Annapolis 1710
A committee of English (Commons report that
the American plantations ought to be furn-
ished with negroes at reasonable prices . . . 1711
An Anglo-Colonial fleet of 15 ships. 40 trans-
ports, and 10,000 men sailed from Boston to
conquer Canada; .s ships wer ^ wrecked and
expedition utterly failed 1711
Indians besieged Detroit but were xepulsed
by the French 1712
The peace of Utrecht was signed by England,
France and Spain 1713
[France ceded to Britain, Acadia, Hudson Bay and
its borders, and Newfoundland, and admits Britain's su-
premacy in tlie American fisheries: ttie Assiento Treaty is
transferred to England, which undertakes to carry to the
Spanish West Indies 4.J>U0 negroes a year for 30 years, paying
on 4,000 a duty of $:j3.3.3 per head, and" for all over 4,000 a diitv
of J16.67 a head ; during the 30 years not far from .SO.iKX) are
talien from Africa by the English annually, as against 15,000
a year for the previous 20 years. The population of the Eng-
glish colonies was about 400,000.]
A public bank was opened in Massachusetts.. 1716
Georgia settled by General Oglethorp. . . . 1717
War was declared between France and Spain
(lasting till 1721) 1719
The first newspaper was started in Philadel-
phia 1719
The South Sea and Mississippi Bulible Compa-
nies bursted and spread ruin 1720
The Boston "Courant" was started by James
Franklin, a brother of Benj. Franklin 1721
The "Gazette," a weekly, was started in New
York (the first paper in New York) 1725
The French built Fort Niagara 1728
Sir William Keith, ex-governor of Pennsylva-
nia, suggested the extension of the sfamj:
1.1 lit II system to the American Colonies 1728
New Orleans was fortified ; it numbered 4,000
French and 2,000 Negroes 1729
George Washington was born Feb. 22. 17.32
The first route was opened between New York
and Philadelphia 1732
Kentucky settled by Col. Boone 1732
Stamp Act, which led to the Revolutionary
War 1764
First Colonial Congress at New York. . Oct. 7, 1765
Boston "Tea Party;" English cargo of tea
destroyed 1 773
Declaration of Rights Nov. 4, 1774
First action between British and Americans at
Lexington April 19, 1775
George Washington appointed commander-in-
chief 1775
Battle of Bunker Hill June 17, 1775
Declaration of Independence July 4, 1776
Flag adopted Ijy act of Congress ... June 14, 1777
United States named by Congress . . . .Sept. 9, 1777
AVashington defeated at the Brandywine,
Sept. 11, 1777
A Federal government adopted by Congress,
Nov. 15, 1777
Lafayette and other French officers join the
Americans 1777
The States recognized by France 1777
The British troops evacuate Philadelphia. . . 1778
Major Andre hanged as a spy Oct. 2, 1780
Surrender of Lord Cornwallis at Yorktown,
Oct. 19, 1781
Definitive treaty of peace signed at Paris.
Sept. 3, 1788
John Adams, first American ambassador to
England 1785
The cotton plant introduced into Georgia. . . . 1786
Quakers of Philadelphia emancipate their
slaves 1788
United States Government organized, March 4, 1789
George Washington, 1st President. April 30, 1789
Present departments of State established 17(^9
Death of Benjamin Franklin April 17, 1790
United States bank instituted June 17, 1791
City of Washington chosen capital July 8, 1792
Re-election of Washington March 4, 1793
John .\dams, 2d President 3Iarch 4, 1797
Washington dies Dec. 14, 1799
Seat of government removed from Philadel-
phia to Washington 1800
I
UNITED STATES OF AMERICA
1585
Thomas Jefferson. 3d President. March 4, 1801
Louisiana bought from the Frenoli 1803
American ports closed to British . July, 1808
Importation of slaves abolished Jan. 1, 1807
James Madison. 4th President March 4, 1809
War with Great Britain — 1812-14 — begins
June 18, 1812
Buffalo burned by the British Dec, 1813
Treaty of peace signed at Ghent . . . Dec. 24, 1814
James Monroe, 5th President .March 4, 1817
Center foundation of the capitol, Washington,
laid Aug. 24, 1818
Florida ceded by the Spanish to the Tiiited
States Oct. 24, 1820
John t^uincy Adams, 6th President 1825
First passenger railway — Stockton to Darling-
ton, Eng 1825
Death of the two ex-Presidents Adams and
Jefferson July 4, 1826
Convention with Great Britain concerning in-
demnity for war of 1812-14 Nov. 13, 1826
General Jackson, 7th President March 4, 1829
Ports re-opened to British commerce Oct. 5, 1830
Commercial panic. 1832
Great fire at New York Dec. 16, 1835
National debt paid off 1836
Martin VanBuren, Sth President. . March 4, 1837
Steamer Caroline burned by the British,
Dec. 29, 1837
Telegraph perfected by Morse 1837
Great Western steamship arrives at New
York June 17, 1838
American banks suspend cash payments. Oct., 1839
Gen. Harrison, 9th President, March 4: dies
April 4, 1841
John Tyler, Vice-President, becomes 10th
President 1841
Resignation of all the ministers except Web-
ster Sept. 11, 1841
Sewing machines invented by Elias Howe
about 1841
James Knox Polk, 11th President . .Marcli 4, 1845
War declared against the United States by
Mexico June 4, 1845
Gen. Taylor, 12th President, March 4. 1S49;
dies July 9, 1850
Millard Filmore, Vice-President, becomes 13th
President July 10. 1850
California admitted a State Aug. 15, 1850
Fugitive slave bill passed August, 1850
Henry Clay dies June 29, 1851
J. F. Cooper, American novelist, dies Sept. 14, 1851
Part of the Capitol at Washington and the
whole of the library of Congress destroyed
by fire Dee. 24, 1851
Daniel AVebster dies Oct. 24, 1852
Commodore Perry's expedition to Japan . 1852
Gen. Franklin Pierce, 14th President, Marcli 4. 1853
Crystal Palace opens at New York. . July 14, 1853
Astor library. New York, opened Jan. 9, 1854
Commercial treaty between Japan and United
States March 28. 1854
Reciprocity treaty between Great Britain and
the United States June 7, 1854
James Buchanan, loth President. . . .ilarch 4, 1856
Commercial panic in New York August, 1857
Atlantic telegraph completed August, 1858
Massacre at Jlountain Meadows, Utah, Sept 18, 18.58
Prescott, the historian, dies Jan. 28. 1859
Insurrection at Harper's Ferry Oct. 16, 1859
Abraham Lincoln chosen as candidate for the
Presidency at Chicago May 16, 1860
Great Eastern arrives at New York June 23, 1860
Prince of Wales visits Washington Oct 3. 1860
South Carolina secedes from the liiion.
Dec. 20, 1860
New York and other Northern States protest
against secession Jan. 4, 1861
Kansas admitted as a State Jan. 21, 1861
Secession by Convention — Mississippi, Jan. 8 ;
Alabama and Florida, Jan. 11 ; Georgia, Jan.
19; Louisiana, Jan. 26; Texas, by Legisla-
lature Feb. 1, 1861
Morrill Tariff Bill passed March 2, 1861
Abraham Lincoln, 16th President. . March 4, 1861
Southern Commissioners not received by the
President at Washington March 12, 1861
Slavery abolished in District of Columbia,
April 4, 1861
Treaty between Great Britain and the United
States for the suppression of the slave-trade,
April 7, 1861
President Lincoln proclaims the blockade of
the ports of the seceding States. . . April 10, 1861
War begins; Major Anderson refuses to sur-
render Fort Sumter to the secessionists,
April 11, 1861
President Lincoln calls for volunteers and in-
forms foreign powers of his intention to
maintain the Li'nion by force of arms. May 4, 1861
Queen Victoria commands her subjects to be
neutral during the war May 13, 1861
Commodore Farragut ascends the Mississippi,
May, 1861
Neutrality announced by the French Emperor.
June 10. 1861
Congress authorizes a war loan of $250,000,000.
July 17, 1861
First Battle of Bull Run July. 21, 1861
McClellan assumes command of the .\rmy of
Potomac .\ug. 20, 1861
McClellan commander-in-chief of Federal
Army Nov. 1 . 1 861
Mason and Slidell taken off the British
steamer by Captain Wilkes Nov. 8, 1861
President Lincoln issues a proclamation con-
fiscating the property and emancipating the
slaves of all Confederates found in arms
after 60 days July 26, 1862
Ex-President ^Martin Van Buren dies. . . .July, 1S62
President Lincoln proclaims freedom to the
slaves Jan. 2, 1863
Grant's successful campaign in Tennessee.
May, 1863
Made commander-in-chief March 8. 1864
Lincoln re-elected President Nov., 1864
Nevada admitted to the Union 1864
Congress abolishes slavery Feb. 2, 1865
Lincoln and Johnson inaugurated March 4. 1865
Battle of Five Forks, April 1 ; Lee retreats,
April 2, 1865
Richmond and Petersburg evacuated by the
Confederates, and occupied by Grant,
April 3, 1865
Lee surrenders April 9, 1865
President Lincoln shot in Ford's Theater,
Washington, by Wilkes Booth, April 14;
dies April 15, 1865
Andrew Johnson, Vice-President, 17th Presi-
dent April 17. 1865
Confederates surrender, the war is over,
April 26, 1865
Solemn fast observed for death of President
Lincoln June 1, 1865
Armies on both sides rapidly disbanding,
June. 1865
Southern prisoners of war released on parole,
July 20, 1865
National thanksgiving for peace Nov. 2, 1865
Habeas Corpus Act restored. ... Dec, 1, 1865
Eighty-five members of the Southern States
excluded from Congress '. .Dec, 1865
1586
UNITED STATES OF AMERICA
The war proclaimed at au end . . April 3,
General AVinfield Scott dies May 29,
Atlantic Cable completed July 27,
Impeachment of President Johnson agreed to,
Jan. 7,
Alaska purchased for $7,000.000 April 9,
General amnesty (with exceptions) issued,
July 4,
Darien canal scheme approved by Congress,
Jan..
Suffrage bill abolishing distinctions based on
race, color, or property, passed Feb. 21,
General Grant, 18th President March 4,
Naturalization treaty with Great Britain rati-
fied by the Senate April 15,
Great peace jubilee at Boston ; colossal eon-
cert of 10,371 voice.s and 1,094 instruments
conducted by P. S. Gilmore June 15,
Naturalization treaty signed Jan. 26,
Proclamation against the Kuklux in North
Carolina March 5,
Formation of the Yellowstone National Park
authorized by Congress March,
General Grant re-elected President . . Nov. 5,
Great discoveries in electric lighting, by
Thomas A. Edison
Insurrection of Negroes suppressed at Tren-
ton, Tennessee : leaders hung August,
Great Centennial demonstration began at
Philadelphia Jan. 1,
Centennial Exposition opened at Philadelphia
May 10, and closed Nov. 10,
R. B. Hayes, 19th President March 4,
Telephone invented in
Plionograph invented by Thomas A. Edison . .
Movement against the Mormons on account of
their polygamy ; first conviction, fine, and
imprisonment Oct. 20,
James A. Garfield, 20th President March 4,
Was shot by Guiteau July 2.
Died Sept. 19; was succeeded by Chester A.
Arthur, Vice-President, 21st President . . .
Longfellow dies March 24,
Gpover Cleveland, 22d President. . . .March 4,
Death of General Grant July 23,
Pan-American Exposition in New Orleans,
Nov. 10,
Death of Vice-President Hendricks, Nov. 25,
Statue of Liberty unveiled in New York
Harbor Oct. 26,
Ex-President Arthur dies Nov. 18,
Interstate Commerce Bill becomes a law,
Feb. 4,
Centennial of the adoption of the Constitu-
tion celebrated in Philadelphia, Sept. 15-17,
Fisheries Convention between the United
States and England, signed Feb. 15,
A Blizzard paralyzes business in the Eastern
States March 11-14,
Benjamin Harrison inaugurated President of
the United States March 4,
Oklahoma opened for settlement, April 22,
Centennial of the inauguration of General
Wasliington as first President of the
United States celebrated in New York,
April 28-May 1,
North and South Dakota admitted tj the
Union Nov. 3,
Montana admitted to the Union Nov. 8,
Washington admitted to the Union, Nov. 11-,
Idalio admitted to the Union July 3,
Wyoming admitted to the Union. . . July 11,
The McKinley Tariff Bill passed the House,
May 21 ; passed the Senate Sept. 30,
Democrats elected majority of next Con-
gress Nov. .
61st Congress adjourned March 4,
1866
1866
1866
186'
1867
1868
1869
1869
1869
1869
1869
1870
1871
1872
1872
1872
1874
1876
1876
1877
1877
1877
1878
1881
1881
1881
1882
1885
1885
1885
1885
1886
1886
1887
1887
1888
1888
1889
1889
1889
1889
1889
1889
1890
1890
1890
1890
1891
International Copyright Law became opera-
tive, and President Harrison announced by
proclamation that the provisions of law now
extended to Belgium, France, Great Britain,
and Switzerland July 1, 1890
Ex-Vice-President Hamlin died July 4, 1891
Hon. James G. Blaine, Secretary of State
announced reciprocity treaties with Brazil.
San Domingo, and some other countries,*
Oct. !4, 1891
The Attorney-General of the United States
announced a Treaty of Agreement between
the Governments of the United States and
Great Britain, to submit to arbitration the
important questions growing out of the
Bering Sea and Fishery Controversies,Nov.lO, 1891
Funeral of James Kussell Lowell in Boston
Mass Aug. 14. 1891
Centennial of Admission of Vermont into U.
S. celebrated Aug. 19. 1891
A building in Park Place New York collapsed
killing 62 people Aug. 22, 1891
A wreck on Western North Carolina E. R.
killed and wounded 50 persons. . . Aug. 27, 1S91
News of defeat of Balmaceda Army in C'liili
received in U. S.. Aug. 28, 1S91
German Government removed the prohilii-
tion of American pork Sepl. 3. !s;»l
Tennessee legislature refused abolish Convict
lease system Sepl. 5, 1891
New Chillian Government recognized bj U.
S. Govenmient Sept. 7, 1891
Death of Balmaceda by suicide announced
Sept. 19, 1891
Oklahoma's new lands opened to settlers
Sept. 22, 1891
Leland Sanford Jr. University opened at
Palo Alto, Cal .' Oct. 1, 1891
Statue of General Grant unveiled at Chicago
Oct. 7, 1891
Earthquake shocks at San Francisco Oct. 14, 1891
Philip Brooks of Boston consecrated bishop
of Prot. Epis. Church Oct. 14, 1891
Sunol lowered the world's trotting record by
half a second Oct 18, 1891
Italian Government permitted the importa-
tion of .American pork Qct. 21, 1891
U. S. formally demanded reparation lor
assault on crew of Baltimore Ocl. 26 1891
N. Y. Court of Appeals decided the Tilden will
case in favor of the natural heirs . . Oct. 27, 1891
Maverick National Bank, Boston failed Nov. 2, 1891
Riotous miners released 200 Convict-workers
in Teim Nov. 2, 1891
New York Presbytery acquitted Prof Briggs
of heresy Nov. 4, 1891
Memorial meeting in honor of Parnell held in
New York Nov. 15, 1891
Attempt made bv a lunatic to assassinate
Dr. John Hall of New York Nov. 29, 1891
Armored Cruiser New York was launched
at Philadelphia Dec. 2, 1891
Norcross, a Boston lunatic endeavored to
assassinate Russell Sage, N. Y Dec. 4, 1891
•Brazil, some months since, euteied into a treaty by which
many American articles are admitted free. Flour is made
free and pork is admitted at a nominal duty.
Cuba and Porto Rico have reduced the duty on flour frnm
$5 80 a barrel to $1 (which gives us the market), besides put-
ting nearly one hundred articles of American productiou ou
the free list.
Sau Domineo has made a reciprocity treaty with flour and
pork upon the free list, besides a large number of other ar-
ticles. Other treaties for reciprocity are in progress.
Germany without negofialing a formal treaty, has removed
the prohibition on pork, and our Government, iti considera-
tion thereof, has left her sugar ou the free list. This nyuns
to us an entirelv new market, and $l.'i.000.000 to J'iO.OOO.ooil of
American pork will be consumed per annum where not a
pound has been taken for ten years.— !>e.'. mauies Letter.)
UNITED STATES OF A M E R I C A — U P T 0 X
1587
First Session of 5-d Congress opened L'lias.
C Crisp of Georgia elected speaker, Dec. 5, 1891
Edward M. Kield, Xew York arrested for for-
gery Dec. 15, 1891
The Poet AVhittier celebrated in Boston his
S4th birthday Dec. 24, 1S91
A collision on Hudson River R. R. kiUed
l-i persons Dee. 24, 1891
Tht wheat crop for 1891 was reported by the
C S. Government figures at the enormous
total of 611,780.00«.i bushel, nearly 100,000,000
bushels larger than any previous year, Jan. 1, 1892
Randolph Rogers the American Sculptor
died in Rome Italy aged 69 .Jan. 15, 1892
Chief Judge Ruger of New York Court of Ap-
peals died Jan. 16, 1892
Judge M. M. Kuapp of Xew Jersey Court died
while charging a grand jury Jan. 26. lS9l'
The Chillian reply to the U. S. demands was
received (satisfactory) Jan. 27, 1892
President Harrison in a second message to
Congress announces the satisfactory close of
the Chillian incidents Jan. 28, 1892
The U. S. Supreme Court decided that the
Anti-Lottery Act passed by Congress is
constitutional Jan. 31, 1892
North German Lloyd steamer "Eider'' was
wrecked Jan. 31, 1892
Reciprocal trade relations annouced by Presi-
dent Harrison as established between U. S.
and British West Indies Feb. 5, 1892
rXIVERSALISM, a belief that all mankind
vill eventually be redeemed from sin and suffer-
ing and brought back to hoUness and God. See
Religious Dexomixatioxs in these Revisions and
Additions.
rXIVERSAL LEGATEE, a legatee to whom the
whole estate of a dece;ised party is given, subject
only to the burden of other legacies and debts. It
nearly corresponds to residuary legatee in Eng-
land.
UNIVERSITIES. .=5EE Colleges axd Uxiter-
siTiES IX UxiTED States in these Revisions.
UNXA, a small town of Prussia, in Westphalia,
nineteen miles northwest of Amsberg. It was for-
merly fortifled. was one of the Hanse towns, and
played a role in the history of the Femgerichte.
Abtlut a mile to the north are the famous salt-
works of Konigsborn, which yield I'JO.OOO cwts. of
salt annually. Population in 1872, 6.915, who are
employed in weaving linen and hosiery and in
brewing and distilling.
UXYORC>. a kingdom of Central Africa. See
Britannica. Vol. XXIII. p. &59.
Kabba Regga. the present sovereign of Unyoro,
bears the official title of " King of Kitwara, " being
the direct representative and lineal descendant of
the dynasty of Wa-Huma (GaUa) conquerors, who
formerly ruled over the vast empire of Kitwaia,
now broken up into the states of Unyoro, Uganda,
Karagwe, Ruanda, and other territories. Kabba
Regga holds sway, directly or indirectly, over the
region inclosed east and north by the middle and
lower course of the Somerset Xile, separating it
from the former equatorial province of Egyptian
Sudan. On the southeast is Uganda, and it
stretches westward to Lake Albert Xyanza. beyond
which are the suljject or vassal territories of
Awamba, Uknnju, Uzongora and Uhaiyana. Islam
has been accepted by most of the Wa-Huma (Galla)
chiefs.
The royal residence, formeriy at Masindi, on an
alSuent of Lake Albert Xyanza. was removed, in
18i., to Xyamoga, which occupies a central posi-
tion in the region inclosed between the lake and the
great bend of the Somei-set Xile below il'ruli.
Other-stations are Koweira and ilagungo, both, till
recently, held by the Khedival governor, Emin
Pasha, and M'bakovia (Bakers Vacovia), on Lake
Albert Xyanza, the center of a large salt industrv.
UPHAM, Chaeles Wextworth, an American,
author, born at St. John, Xew_ Brunsvrick, in
1802; died at Salem, Mass., in 1S/.5. He came to
Boston in childhood, and graduated at Harvard in
1821. From 1824 till 184-5 he was pastor at Salem.
In 1853-4 he served in the United States Congress.
He wrote Lectures on Witchcraft and biographies
of Gen. Fremont, Francis Peabody, and Timothy
Pickering.
UPHAM. Thomas Cogswell, author, born at
Deerfield, X. H.. in 1799: died in Xew York city
in 1872. He graduated at Dartmouth and Ando-
ver colleges, and became in 1825 professor of philoso-
phy in Bowdoin College, which post he held for
forty-two years. During this time he published
Elements of Mental Fhilosophij (.3 vols.). Life and
Opinions u} Madame Guyon, Life of Faith, Divine
Union, and Letters from Europe, Egypt and Pales-
tine.
UPLAND, a borough of Pennsylvania, two miles
west of Chester. It manufacfares cotton goods,
and is the seat of Crozer Theological Seminary.
Popularion in 1890, 2,286.
UPPER SAXDU.SKY. A village, the county-
seat of Wyandot county, Ohio. It produces a
variety of manufactures. Population in 1890, 3,568.
UPTOX, EiiOKY. An .American general, horn
at Batavia, N. Y., in 1839; died at San Francisco,
Cal., in 1881. He graduated at West Point in
May, 1861. During the Civil War he fought at Bull
Run, where he was wounded: in the battle at
Rappahannock Station, Va. (1863). and in the
Wilderness campaign of 1864. especially at Spott-
syhauia, where he was again wounded while lead-
ing the assaulting column of twelve regiments of
Ms corps. For this he was appointed, on the spot,
brigadier-general of volunteers. He was present
' at the siege of Petersburg, in the defense of the
] capital in July, 1864, and in the Shenandoah c;tm-
' paign, where, while commanding a division of in-
fantry at the battle of Opequan. he was again severely
wounded. In April. 1866, he was mustered out of
the volunteer service. In lS70-i5 be was com-
mander of cadets in the United States military
' academy. In 1875-77 he was sent on a tour of
inspection of the armies of Europe and Asia, and
on his return he was assigned to the artillery
school at Fortress Monroe, where he wrote bis
, official report, published m 1878. In ISSO Upton
1588
U II A L — U RITG IT A Y.
became eoloiifl of the 4tli artillery, and soon after-
ward joined his regiment at the Presidio, San
Francisco, Cal. He died there by his own hand,
caused by despondency from chronic catarrh. He
pubUshed a standard work on Infantry Tactics
(1867), and the United States government has pub-
lished his Armies of Asia and Europe (1878).
URAL, a river of Russia, called Rimnn by the
ancients, later, Jaik. and since 1875, by Its present
name. It rises in the southern section of the Ural
Mountains, near the east frontier of the govern-
ment of Orenburg, flows south through the district
of Troitzk, past the town nf Virchnl- Uralsk, to its
confluence with the KlsiL in which region Its coin-.se
is over hilly meadows, and its current Is very
rapid, owing to its narrow and uneven bed. At
the town of Or.-<k, the river 1)ends westward, and
runs In that direction to the mouth of the river
Tchagan; thence it flows chrectly soutli, and falls
into tlie Caspian Sea. It is generally deep enough
for navigation; Init owing to the scarcity of wood
for ,shlp-building, and to the number of saud-banlcs
that bar the river, no navigation can lie carried on.
This loss, however, is compensated by its fisheries,
which vleld totheUossacks settled along its banks
an ainiual revenue of 600,000 rubles (.•}!468,750).
The Ural has long served as the frontier .separat-
ing Ru.ssia from the Kirghis Steppes, and many
forts have been erected, and a settlement of Cos-
.sacks — known as the Ural Cossacks — established
along the river. The ilirect length of the Ural
is estimated at 550 miles; with windings, 1,040
miles. The principal affluents are the Kl.sll and
Sakmara on the right, ;ind the (Jr and Ilek on the
left.
URBANA, a city of Ohio. Population In 1890,
0,499. See Britannica, Vol. XXIV, p. 9.
URBI ET ORBI (Lat., to the city and the
world), a form used in the publication of papal
bulls, for the purpose of sigiiifyiug their formal
promulgation to the entire Catholic world, as well
as to the city of Rome. By the canon law, ime of
the conditions required in order that any new law
shall be held to have force is "promulgation;"
but a celebrated controversy arose in the seven-
teenth century as to the kind of promulgation which
should bo regarded as sufficient. In ancient times
the practice of the popes had been to send copies
of their bulls to the primates, metropolitans, and
other ecclesiastical heads of the several churches,
to be l)y them communicated to their suffragan
bishops; but In progress of time, the practice of
publicly proclaiming or of po.stiug up the decree in
the Campo del Fiori in Rome was substituted for
this transmission; an<l decrees addressed Urhi ct
Orlii, and published In this way, were held to be
thus sufficiently promulgated to the various
churches, and to be thenceforth full of force.
URE, AxDEEW, M. IJj, a distinguished cheml.st,
born at Glasgow In 1778, died in London, Jan. 2,
1857. He was educated at Glasgow University,
.subsequently pro.'^ecuted his medical studies at
Edinburgh, and returned to Glasgow, where he
received the degree of M. I)., in 1801. The lit-
erary works for which ho is chiefly distinguLshed
are his Dictiomtri/ of ('hcmistry and Dictionary
of Arts, Mnnufdclitrcs and Mines.
URIM AND THUMMIM (Heb.), a mysterious
ocmtrivance i'l or on the high-priest's breast-plate,
either consisting of the four rows of precious stones
upon which the nmes of the twelve tribps wrr^
engraved, or ot iwo images personifying ■■•'■ist
probably — " Truth " and "Revelation." i 'le
etymology of the two words, which, derived from
Arabic roots, would indicate " Brilliant Amulet,"'
" Perfect Light," etc., is in reality no m-'c a.itisfae-
tory than the account of the manner in which the
contrivance was used for oracular parposes, or of
the time when, in reality, it ceased to act. It is
never mentioned after Solomon's t'me.
URSON (Erythison dorsatnm], a quadruped
nearly allied to the Porcupine, and often called the
Canada Porcupine. The genus Erythison differs
from the Ilystrix (Porcupine) in the flatter head,
the shorter and not convex muzzle, the longer tail,
and having the quills short and half hidden in the
hair. The Urson is about the siz(> of a small hare.
It is found as far south as Virginia and Kentucky,
and as far north as lat. 67°. Tts quills arc dyed
by the Indian women, and worked into ornamental
articles of various kinds.
URUGUAY, Republic of. For general ar-
ticle see Britannica, Vol. XXIV, pp. 14-10. The
area in 1887 was estimated at 72,110 square miles,
with a population of 614,257, which it was stated
should be increased to 651,112 to allow for omis-
sions in the census. A later count (in 1888) re-
turned the total population at 687,194. The fol-
lowing table gives the area, population and density
by provinces or states in 1887 :
I'KOVIN'CE.
Area in
sq. miles.
Pojiulation.
l)pu.sitT per
.sqtiMi-e'tnile.
Salto
4,863
4,392
5,115
:;,2i;9
3,.560
2,192
2.687
1.744
256
1.833
1,.')84
4,280
5,753
3,086
4,844
8,074
3,790
4,673
5,525
25,027
12,000
28.417
14,265
26,133
35,405
21,147
15,295
185,211
68.359
10,564
17,549
19,697
15.748
22.535
22.363
18,966
27,173
22,403
5.12
Artigas
2.73
Pavsandii . ...
.5.55
4.30
7.34
16.15
San Jose '.
Flores
Montevideo
7.87
8.77
723 50
37.28
Maidonado
10.45
4.11
3.42
4.27
4.65
2.76
5.00
5.80
4.05
Total
72,110
614,257
8.51
Constitution and Government. Under the
constitution the legislative authority is in a Sen-
ate and House of Representatives, which meet in
annual session, extending from Feb. 15 to July 15.
In the interval of the session, a permanent com-
mittee of two senators and five members of the
Lower House assume the legislative power, as well
as the general control of the administration. The
representatives are chosen for three years, in
the proportion of 1 to every 3,000 inhabitants of
male adults who can read and write. The sena-
tors are chosen liy an Electoral College, whose
members are directly elected by the people;_ there
is one senator for eacli department, chosen for sis
vears, (me-third retiring every two years. There
were in 1890, fifty-three representatives and nine-
teen senators.
The executive is \ested in the president of the
republic, who is elected for the term uf four years.
n
? Mi
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